Wrestling With Questions

[Jay Omega]

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”The hardest thing about the road not taken is that you never know where it might have led.”
-A Month of Summer
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Phoenix, Arizona, Earth
August 28, 2017
0017 hrs, Local Time

~Time seems to crawl at an incredibly slow pace when one is waiting for something. The observation held true for any being able to conceive the passage of Time, and the galaxy was littered with idioms and proverbs reflecting on the phenomenon. But the being currently observing Time’s passage was a sentient cluster of programming code that wasn’t prone to the same self-deception organic minds were, and as such understood that the speed of Time’s flow remained constant; it was merely neurochemical trickery which affected one’s perception. Even armed with this knowledge, the digital lifeform called Erin couldn’t help but feel that if Time moved any slower, it would stop altogether. It had been nearly three hours since her Pilot - the human she was bonded to, known across the galaxy as Jay Omega - had disappeared from her scanners, and to someone who measured seconds in the same way organics measured hours, that was quite a long time to wait. A major difference between organic and digital sapients - aside from obvious physical aspects - was their patience; it was no trouble at all for Erin to remain motionless in the heavily armored Suit she currently occupied, and there were so many unshielded Wi-Fi access points nearby that tapping into the vast repository of information known as the Internet was as easy as taking candy from a diabetic man who no longer wished to eat candy. There was a wealth of information to be had, but bandwidth limitations were still a thing, and there was only so much Erin could do at one time, however, splitting off several runtime subroutines allowed her to absorb exponentially more information.

  It also allowed her to research several different topics simultaneously, which had been her original intent. Sadly, by the time the energy-dampening dome over the arena across the street dissipated, only one of her subroutines was still at its original task; the others having all re-synced. With the first ripple in the distortion field’s otherwise smooth surface, Erin had closed the YouTube browser window playing a compilation of cats climbing into small spaces. By the time the field had dropped, the artificial intelligence had run a preliminary check on all the Suit’s systems, then activated the Pilot locator beacon. Erin was both pleased and relieved when the wetware implanted in Jay’s gray matter responded immediately with a cheery update on Omega’s current location relative to the Suit, as well as a complete medical readout detailing his physical condition. Though she had tried not to be, the A.I. had been worried ever since the final word she had spoken to him had sent jagged pulses of fear colored with deep tones of dread spiking over the connection. Jay had quickly seized control of himself, but he had still been shaken when he had left to “take care of business”, and he hadn’t said anything about taking three hours. Fear wasn’t something Erin was used to feeling from her Pilot - shock, worry, occasionally panic, but rarely fear - so whoever or whatever “Jalaxaritkatusa” was, it was a planetary-level concern at the very least. Scouring the Internet for any mention had been the first task she had assigned a subroutine to, and when the algorithm had returned a wide array of alien and conspiracy websites, Erin had discovered the word was supposedly the name of a planet.

  Having traveled a good portion of the galaxy recently and not heard the name, the digital sentient was almost certain the mystery planet was a work of fiction pulled from some mentally ill vagrant’s drug-induced fever dream. Of course, a fever dream was unlikely to bring her Pilot to the brink of defecating himself, and so more merit was given to the possibility. Several other subroutines had been created and dispatched to trawl through the compiled data on Jalaxaritkatusa, looking to cross-reference with supposedly secure government databases, as well as the accumulated information on the galactic community stored in the computer banks of the Khybaris. The search had produced more questions with precious few answers, and Erin’s attempts to uncover more than rumor and hearsay had been thoroughly stymied. If she didn’t know better, the A.I. might have almost believed someone had gone ahead of her, sweeping the Internet clean of any solid information on her quarry. But such a notion was preposterous; in order to do something like that a person would have to be extremely intelligent; capable of rewriting the source code of thousands of servers while remaining invisibile and untraceable, which was supposed to be impossible by human standards. Of course, Erin herself could do so, and Iceberg-7 could probably handle the task without too much difficulty as well. Which meant that the task was likely akin to child’s play for the digital sapient who had tried to kill Omega and herself only twelve hours ago. Though non-corporeal, Erin simulated a shiver running up the “spine” of the Suit; it felt appropriate, given the situation.

  On the street below, Jay Omega ducked into an alley and made use of his density manipulation to traverse the three storey climb with ease. As Omega alighted on the rooftop, Erin cancelled the subroutine’s task and synchronized with it, absorbing all the information it had gathered. Interestingly, the subroutine had been digging through the Shadownet - the hodgepodge communication network used by terrorist cells and deep cover intelligence operatives - in search of references to an “Order of the Owls”. Erin noted the name for later research, and turned all her attention to her approaching Pilot. “What kept you?” She asked aloud as Jay drew near, “You said you’d just be negotiating a one-off contract, or did you get distracted by your reflection again?” Omega frowned at the second question - it had only been one time, and only because Jay had sworn he’d seen the reflection move first - but didn’t rise to the bait. “I decided to check out some of the so-called competition before I saw Seth,” Omega replied while Erin popped the Suit’s hatch, “Kinda glad I did, too; some of these new dudes ain’t quite the scrubs I thought they’d be. Still ain’t shit next to me, but good enough that WAR’s gonna be more than just a light workout, ya dig?” Jay took hold of the hatch door and used it to hoist his legs into the armored Suit. Not giving Erin time to acknowledge her understanding, Omega continued his ceaseless flow of words, “Provided everyone involved actually competes this time, I estimate a ninety-three percent probability that I’ll win. And that’s if I start at number one; the later I enter, the more certain my victory is.” The Suit fit itself to Jay’s form as it sealed, and a small spike entered his neural implants.

  “Symbiosis achieved,” Omega smiled, taking pleasure in the rare opportunity to beat Erin to her de facto catchphrase, “But by comin’ here tonight, I’ve stepped in a deeper pile of shit than I thought.” Once the navigation systems were online, Erin placed an objective marker on Jay’s HUD, showing the direction and relative distance of the waiting shuttle, then asked for a clarification. “That’s quite the colorful metaphor. So there’s more trouble than you were expecting? More than a few higher calibre fighters, I mean.” Erin felt Omega’s uneasiness through their shared synthetic synapses, but he didn’t elaborate. “I’ll tell ya more once we get back to the shuttle; part of it is relevant to a conversation I need to have with Tasha, and I don’t want to repeat myself.” The Suit’s flight systems weren’t designed for long distances and extended use, but the 35 mile flight to the rendezvous point wouldn’t be taxing. Wouldn’t take long, either, despite the Suit’s strictly subsonic capabilities; with a top airspeed of nearly 500 miles per hour, what might have been a 45 minute drive became a four minute flight. The Omega Man touched down on a windswept plateau Southwest of the city, taking care that his boot jets didn’t ignite any of the dried brush scattered about, and took a moment to glance back at the glowing Phoenix skyline. There was something oddly comforting about a city of glass, steel, and concrete bathed in the orange glow of a million street lamps; Jay had seen a dozen alien cities built in a variety of colors and materials, but none had felt like this. It felt good to be back on Earth; the planet might be a primitive shithole by galactic standards, but it was home. Not even the Crystal Spires of Aldevenlen on Belsair Four could inspire the same comfortable awe he felt now.

  The moment was interrupted by a mechanical clunking followed by a hydraulic hiss, and Omega checked his rear camera feed to see the shuttle’s cargo ramp slowly lowering. To the naked human eye, Jay stood alone amongst the sand and scrub, while an 8 foot wide rectangular hole appeared some 12 feet in the air and slowly enlarged as it spread toward the ground; becoming a ramp into nothingness. Thanks to the Suit's HUD and Erin's link, The Omega Man could see the energy signatures of the shuttle’s retro reflective panels; the invisible shuttle practically glowed to his eye. Omega turned and began marching toward the ramp before it settled into place, not looking forward to the impending conversation with his mate, but eager to be done with it. Once aboard the shuttle both Jay and Erin exited the Suit, Omega heading for the cockpit where Tasha was waiting, while Erin transferred into the shuttle’s computer core and control systems. The A.I. was already halfway through the preflight checklist by the time Jay strapped in, and the shuttle was airborne before Omega managed to broach the subject of his potentially extended stay on Earth. “So Tasha, listen, about this vacation…” The apprehension in his voice caused the Darrikaan woman’s delicately pointed ears to twitch, “I do hope you aren’t about to tell me we must depart already, dear one,” Tasha interrupted with a touch of petulance, “I was looking forward to learning more of your people’s culture and history; we left so swiftly the last time we were here, I hardly had the opportunity to do much of anything.” Jay gave her a small smile and patted her hand reassuringly as the shuttle reached a cruising altitude of 50,000 feet.

  “Actually, it’s kind of the opposite; fuckin’ Lerch won’t even let me enter WAR without giving him a six month commitment. ” Omega scrubbed a hand through his hair and took a steadying breath, “I know that’s a lot longer than I said, and I honestly don’t even know if it’s worth it; I mean, let’s say I win WAR again and get a title shot, what then? Just set up shop and settle in, or some shit? I doubt the crew would be cool with being planet bound for half an Earth year or more, but I ain’t got a choice if I want to enter. And since that’s the whole fuckin’ reason we came here, I don’t what the fuck to do.” Jay had been expecting some sign of sympathetic anger on Tasha’s part, and was surprised by the blank look she gave him. “Six of your months in service to this Lerch, in exchange for a place in the Grand Melee that has been named ‘WAR’ in dramatic fashion?” The Omega Man nodded, his expression a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “My heart, the answer is as obvious as it is simple: Do it.” The exiled alien princess said with a shrug, causing Omega raise an eyebrow at the conciseness of her response. “Krishna, today is a day of swift decisions, ain’t it? Just like that, eh?” Tasha gave him a searching look, then shrugged her shoulders again, “James, I think you might be looking at this wrong,” The Darrikaan brushed a strand of her aquamarine hair back behind a pointed ear, then reached over to take Jay’s hand with a small smile, “You see it as binding yourself to this planet for the duration of the proposed contract, but you need only be here for a short time each Sun’s Day. The Khybaris has the jump coordinates of our arrival logged, so we can return here as and when we wish.”

  Omega’s expression turned thoughtful as he considered this alternate viewpoint, then took the solution a step further, “That’s a good point, Ymsyllynt. I bet Nicky could probably build a jump array somewhere on the island, too; that way if need be, I can use the Elevator Buttons to come and go if the Khybaris is indisposed.” Jay nodded slowly as he mulled the idea over, then frowned as he came to a second conclusion. “Well, that solves the issue of whether or not I actually have the time, so the question now is whether or not this is actually a good idea. I mean, the situation was a little volatile last year, and I can’t imagine it’s improved all that much.” Tasha removed her hand from his grip, and gave Omega another searching look. “You almost sound as though you’re seeking reasons not to accept Lerch’s proposition, dear one,” The Darrikaan woman stated with a touch of concern; it wasn’t like Jay to avoid the opportunity for battle, “You have other concerns about the matter?” Omega hesitated visibly, squirming in his seat, and he gave Tasha a look every bit as guarded as hers had been searching. “One of the major players right now is pretty bad news, a dude named John Rabid; he’s a snaky sumbitch with a knack for corruption and subversion.” The Omega Man took a deep breath and heaved out a great sigh as he shouldered some responsibility. “And I can’t help but feel that my inaction makes me at least partly at fault for his rise to power; I could have nipped this shit in the bud, but I chose to ignore Beach Crew while they consolidated and expanded.” Whatever else happened, Jay was determined to rectify that mistake before he left again.

  “My heart, I cannot make this decision for you,” Tasha said softly, “You know my mind on this matter, and I will stand by you however you do decide, but may I suggest you discuss your troubles with someone closer to the source of them? Perhaps a friend inside this Federation of Champions?” It was solid advice, and Omega meant to take it. But not right away; there was a week until his final decision was needed and this was supposed to be a vacation after all, he could afford a day or two of relaxing and refitting first. Now that Nikola Tesla had joined the crew, Jay wanted the time displaced engineer to go over the Khybaris with a fine toothed comb to see what improvements he could make, what human touches he could add. Omega had a few renovation ideas of his own, but he wanted Tesla’s input as to whether or not some of them were even possible. The lull in the conversation was momentarily lifted by Erin updating the couple about their approach to Jay’s island micronation, though the comfortable silence resumed as they made their descent.

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San Fernando, California, Earth
August 30, 2017
1642 hrs, Local Time

~The Omega Man glanced around the dim and seedy establishment for the fourth time, not really expecting anything to have changed; the same shameless drunks were still rooted to their booths scattered about the hazy room, faces buried in their drinks. It wasn’t that the place was rundown - with the kind of money that came through the door on a regular basis, the watering hole was well maintained - it was the locale that made Jay feel like he constantly needed to wash his hands. Omega was aware that health and safety regulations required the owner to keep the place clean, but he was also aware that the floor wasn’t supposed to be sticky in some places. But the person he had come to meet would be arriving from work, would be desperate for a drink, and this was the closest dispensary of alcohol to the "film set". It didn’t help that his guest was late, leaving Jay to sit in the sort of sticky, smoky, dark, despondent bar he’d expect to find Steven Osbourne in. At great length, Omega’s guest finally arrived, caught Jay’s eye from across the room, then casually navigated the distance to slide easily into the booth opposite Omega. Raising two fingers to the passing waitress to indicate his usual order, WCF Tag Team Champion Jayson Price sent the server on her way with a hearty slap to her backside before turning his attention to The Omega Man. “Okay, I’m here; the fuck do you want?” Jay barked a short laugh, and shook his head once. “Fuck’s sake, is that how people say hello these days? Lerch said pretty much the same thing.” Price didn’t respond, he just fixed Omega with a level expression, and waited for him to answer the question.

  “Right. Okay, what I want is to show up for WAR, and kick the shit out of it again. I also may or may not want to cripple John Rabid, but that’s not the point,” The waitress returned bearing a tray with two shot glasses and a 12 year old bottle of Glenlivet Scotch, which she set in front of Price before departing with another slap to her backside. “Point is, Lerch won’t let me anywhere near the ring without at least a six month commitment, and I ain’t sure I want to go back to workin’ for him full-time. Long story short, I could use some advice.” Price broke the seal on the bottle and filled both shot glasses, then tossed one down the hatch. “So why come to me? Wouldn’t it make more sense to talk to one of your friends?” Omega winced, then smiled sheepishly, “As sad as this might sound, I’m pretty sure you’re the closest thing to a friend I’ve got in the Dub.” Price snorted and picked up the second shot glass. Rather than pass it across to Jay, the South Street Nightmare drained that one as well. “You’re right; that is fucking pathetic.” Omega scowled at the lack of both respect and alcohol, “That’s not what I said--” Jay began, only to be cut off by Price. “Maybe not, but that’s what it is.” Jayson said as he refilled both shot glasses, passing one over to Omega this time, “You had it all, man; fame, fortune, the World Championship, and Pantheon at your back. And you fucked it up. Just vanished without a word after you dropped the strap to Wade Moor, and now you’re a fucking disgrace.” The Omega Man sat in silence as he let the words wash over him, his drink remaining untouched. It wasn't as though Price were telling him anything he hadn't said to himself.

  “There was a lot of hype around you, which you did back up to an extent. But you turned out to be one of the most underwhelming champions in recent memory, and I don’t just mean your weak ass World title run. Now you’re coming to me for advice? Why would I help you, when I don’t even like you?” Jay frowned and grumbled to himself as he took the shot glass in front of him, and drained the booze contained therein. “That weak ass World title run did you a favour; now that I’ve got the shortest reign on record, that’s one less thing for Corey Black to taunt you with.” Price nodded in concession, and refilled both glasses again. “Speaking of which, if memory serves, you ain’t all that fond of ol’ Corey Black either, yet here you are flying the Pantheon flag under his command, once again.” Omega slammed back his shot, while Price gave a half shrug. “What can I say? So long as Pantheon represents the best in the Dub, Corey will never be able to get rid of me.” Jay gave a sly grin as Price tossed back his shot. “Yeah, you are like a bad case of herpes, aren’t you?” The Omega Man chuckled when Price flipped him off; it was the expected response. “Fuck it, take the deal and come back; it’ll be funny to watch you get your ass beat,” Declared the Tag Champ with an arrogant smirk, “Maybe find yourself someone dumb enough to pair up with you, so Andre and I can show you what Pantheon’s about these days.” Omega raised his arms in a warding manner, and put on a mockingly fearful expression. “Ooh, so intimidating! That’s some big talk coming from the dude I whooped in my second week. And as for your bromance with the poor man’s Steve Orbit, no thank you; I don’t want to get anywhere near your Mushy Mangina.”

  “Hey, fuck you; it’s ‘Mushroom Mandingo’, you dickbag.” Price reached across the table and took the shot glass from Jay’s hand, causing Omega to snort in amusement. From within his red leathery vest, The Omega Man produced his ever-present black cigarette case, removed a long and slender joint, then shook his head at Price as he lit up. “Yeah, I’m never referring to your tag team as anything but Mushy Mangina. You can call it whatever you want, it’s a blatant rip off of the Cockblockers either way. Except neither of you is sexy enough to be me, which makes you both the Osbourne of the team.” Jay leaned in and put a hand beside his mouth to speak in a conspiratorial stage whisper, “Spoiler alert; that’s not really a good thing.” Omega leaned back with a smirk, and drew deeply on his joint. Price just rolled his eyes, and poured himself another drink. “As if! Mushroom Mandingo is easily the bigger and better team.” Jay exhaled a cloud of smoke and gestured vaguely with his spliff. “I am most definitely not having a dick measuring contest with you.” Price nodded with another half shrug, accepting this as a matter of course, “Because you know you’d lose.” Omega gave him a wry look, and hit his joint again before offering a retort. “Because I’m a nice guy, and don’t want to embarrass you outside the ring as well. Though in all fairness, you do a pretty good job of that yourself.” This time it was Price’s turn to snort in amusement as he tossed his head. “Please; you’ve got to have shame in order to be embarrassed, and we both know I don’t have any.” Jay barked a laugh, choked on his hit of pot smoke, and launched into a hacking fit.

  Once Omega had regained his composure, Jayson poured another pair of shots, and slid one across the table with a serious expression. “For real though, if you do come back, you got anything in mind involving Pantheon?” Price’s tone and phrasing were ambiguous, and Jay gazed at him with a touch of suspicion. “Are you asking if I’m looking to rejoin? Or checking to see if I’m looking for a fight with all o’ y’all?” The self-styled Mushroom God smiled and downed his shot. “Yes.” No other answer was forthcoming, and The Omega Man drank his own serving of Scotch while he considered his reply. “Do I want to reclaim my place in Pantheon? Not at this time, no; I’ve failed enough teams enough times to know that I work best as a solo act. Maybe some day.” Price’s body language shifted subtly, the set of his eyes suddenly wary. “As for the old cliche about trying to destroy Pantheon? I mean, it ain’t on the agenda, but I’m an equal opportunity ass-kicker, and if y’all end up on the other side of the ring…” Omega trailed off with a shrug and a helpless expression, then tilted his head and raised a finger as he thought of something. “With the exception of Rabid; I feel somewhat obligated to pulverize the bones in his face.” Jay took another deep haul from his doobie, while Price narrowed his eyes. “What gives with that, anyway? What’s your beef with Rabid? He’s a little off, sure, but he’s a nice enough guy.” Omega shook his head as he exhaled through his nose, causing a thin wall of smoke to rise between him and Price. “No, he really isn’t. And the fact that you think he is, is a major part of my beef with him. Due to personal experience, I’m not overly fond of vile manipulators.”

  Price shrugged nonchalantly, indicating he didn’t really care, then checked the wristwatch he wasn’t wearing. “Well, it’s getting late, and I’ve got a long flight back to Philly ahead of me, followed by an even longer night of booze and strippers, so I’m gonna take off. And I’m gonna take this,” Said the owner of Philly’s Phinest Phallus, grabbing the bottle of Glenlivet as he stood, “You did say you were paying, right?” Jay waved dismissively and hit the joint once more. “Sure man, no problem. After all, what are friends for?” Price paused long enough to look at Omega with an unreadable expression, and shook his head in resignation. “Y’know, you’ve got a real fucked up definition of friendship.” Jay was wise enough to fully exhale his lungful of smoke before he tried to chuckle. “Dude, you don’t know the half of it.” Omega didn’t elaborate further, and Jayson didn’t much care, so with a shrug, the South Street Nightmare turned away and left the establishment. With no reason to remain, Jay was more than happy to settle the bill and skedaddle; he’d gotten what he had come for, and there was nothing left to do now but weigh the pros and cons with all the information he had available. Outside, Omega ducked into the nearby alley, and made himself light enough to leap 15 feet straight up. Jay kicked off the wall to change direction and gain momentum, and soared across the width of the alley to grab hold of a flimsy vent cover. The thin metal easily held what little weight he had, and Omega threw himself upward while pushing off the wall to soar back across the alley, bringing him just high enough to grab the lip of the roof.

  Within moments The Omega Man had Suited up, and for the second time that week, he found himself flying away from a city at top speed, towards a secluded landing zone on a lightly vegetated rise of land too large to be a hill, but too small to be a mountain. There was no Tasha waiting this time, Erin had flown the shuttle here, and so the ride back to Jay's island was a quiet one. Omega continued to turn the prospect over in his mind; some nagging feeling kept trying to warn him away from acceding to Seth Lerch's offer, but he couldn't determine why. There was also the overwhelming sensation that his presence was unlikely to be a welcome one among the roster. There were advantages and disadvantages whatever he decided, but the more he contemplated a return to the WCF, the less certain he became that it was a wise decision.~