The morning passed and the team set about discovering their new home while getting to know each other. The difference in personalities among them was stark, but they meshed in a complimentary way and nobody seemed to grate on anybody else.

The living quarters were the highlight of the just-begun day. Each was a giant multi-room suite with enough square footage to make even Salandra raise her eyebrows in surprise at their spaciousness. The kicker was that, aside from the bathroom walls, the interior partitions were able to segment and slide, allowing for almost any configuration of rooms, even one large space if that was what was desired.

The facility was huge, that was obvious. The corridors were wide and long but at each doorway there was a small panel in the wall ready to present a map to a destination or other helpful information should someone get lost. The technology was impressive, and equally impressive was the focus on efficiency, comfort, and useability in every facet of construction.

As the clock neared the time of the scheduled meeting, each Knight, regardless of where they were, heard the same disembodied message from the computer.

"The time is now ten fifty-five. All Knights please report to the conference room."

Rachel jumped when the message came out of nowhere. She had completely lost track of time. Happily chatting with any of the others who stayed in the lunch room, she reveled in the sheer joy of being part of group like this.

Rachel had always been a joiner, whether girl scouts, cheerleading, or a serority, but this was different. Everything else paled in comparison to being a superhero. Part of her was frightened. After all, she was barely out of high school and had not used her powers much. The others all seemed more mature and capable than she did. Most of her, however, was just excited at the opportunity.

She jumped up and smiled, putting her hair back under her cowl and reattaching her mask. "Let's go," she called out, grinning at the team from under her mask. Too excited to walk, she jogged to the conference room, even though it was right next door.

Johnny had walked around the complex after breakfast, the size of the building, and some of the things he found made him think he hadnt known what he had gotten himself into. When he finally came to his room, he barely stepped in, and looked around, before he was outside in the hallway again, wandering. When he came to the eastward facing window, on the third floor, he stopped, and looked down at the crowd of reporters and cameramen on the other side of the fence.

When the announcement broke over the PA system, he looked back down, and shook his head, before he headed to the meeting room. I guess, all those news stories about the Old Knights, had to come from somewhere. Never realized that those stories might have come with a price, though.

Salandra was the first to leave the dining room once breakfast was over. She was having a hard time processing all of the personalities, and knew it would be best to take some time to explore and reground herself. Her first stop was to revisit her room, still impressed by how spacious it was, it was quite a bit bigger than the penthouse suite that Ludmella had procurred for them in the city. After she was finished in her room, she began walking to each known exit, planning in her head who she was likely to bump into depending on which direction she went. Taking note of which room belonged to each of her teammates, also noting the empty suites, curious as to whether they would be filled in time.

Like Johnny, Elastic Man had wandered around the complex eager to learn more. He'd been amazed at the technology used within the place and surprised at the size of the building. The library intrigued him but, in the end, he had decided that one room was very much like another room. The majority of them had four walls and didn't change. Whereas the people in the facility, well they were much more interesting.

So he'd headed back to the lunch room, where the young woman known as Frostbite was still bouncing around. Although he was wary of the woman's powers, Elastic Man liked the fellow Knight. Her outward enthusiasm matched his own inner keenness. She was fascinating to watch and study, so Elastic Man did just that until the deep-voiced message summoned them all.

Dynamo was a little taken aback at the size of his room. He and Edith had been raising two boys in a walk-up one-quarter this size. He had thought about asking if one of the other men had wanted to bunk in with him; but then realized that they both had similarly sized rooms. After exploring his new living quarters, he meandered about the rest of the base. Trying to figure out how they could have time to use all this stuff and still get anything else done.

His teammates all seemed nice enough: he had worried that his "modern" way of seeing the world would clash with their no-doubt "post-modern" sensibilities. But, so far, things were going swimmingly. He found himself standing in the Map Room (what they called the "Command and Control" room), looking at just how the world had changed. He noted the Global hot-spots and other high-crime places. He asked himself if he could do more good just breaking down barriers and getting food to starving and oppressed people. Frankly, the world felt a lot less "beatable" than it had before. He was happy when the deep, rich voice called him to the meeting.

He walked downstairs stepped into the room and walked over to the coffee maker, "Can I pour anyone else a cup?"

At first Rachel was going to refuse, hot coffee didn't exactly agree with her, then she giggled. "Sure, thanks so much." she said. When the coffee arrived, she put it on the table, then concentrated on it. Ice crystals quickly formed in it. "Iced coffee," she announced with a grin. Moving her mask up just enough to sip it, she smiled. "Perfect."

Walking behind Rachel, Elastic Man smiled and said "No thank you". The brown liquid did little for him. He wondered why the humans drank so much of the stuff. Did they need the caffeine to stay alert and awake?

"Please and thank you," Chance agreed, breezing through the door at that moment. After looking over her quarters -- actually bigger than her family's ranch house outside Round Rock -- she'd taken the stairs up to the roof to check out that entrance, knowing it was going to be the one through which she'd be moving in her stuff. It looked to Serena as if life were finally throwing some lucky breaks her way, and she didn't miss the fact that it was all due to choosing life as a Knight.

"Ah sure don't know what Ah'm gonna do with all that room, do any o' y'all?" She asked, accepting the unsweetened black cup from Dynamo with a trademark Serena grin. "Maybe build a music room or somethin', lordy."

"I thought I might build a small house in mine, simple cottage place with a white picket fence." Dynamo joked. After seeing who else he could serve coffee to, he took a seat and drank his own cup.

"Sounds nice. You sure about the neighborhood though?"

Dynamo smiled, "I don't know about some of you." He said with mock suspicion. "But, I understand that the security around here is pretty top-shelf." He laughed, it was good to be on a team again. He felt those bonds, not really friendship yet -- but something that was strong, starting to build. Chance, at least, was someone he could come to work with.

"Ah sure would feel kinda sorry for any burglar that attempted a little B&E with this bunch," she agreed with a smile, slipping her arm though his companionably as they walked into the room.

Rachel smiled at the two of them. "I'm thinking an ice rink in my room. Then it'd feel just like home. I just have to figure out how to get the snowmobile in there."

Elastic Man looked at Rachel and shivered a little. "Your home is an ice rink?" he wondered aloud. He was somewhat lost with this discussion. The rooms were certainly large but not large enough to build a small house in them. So he stayed quiet.

Johnny walked through the door, and moved over next to Dynamo, having caught the last of their conversation, he didnt intterject himself, though. Instead he poured himself a cup of coffee, and sat down in one of the chairs, trying to get caught up.

Mayhem had fallen into step behind Johnny as they walked towards the conference room and entered quietly after him. Heading over to a seat at the spacious table and plopping down uncerimoniously into her chair.

"Good morning, Knights," Daniel Lee said in greeting as he walked into the room. He was dressed in a suit, this one a dark brown accompanied by a cream-colored shirt and a dark green pattterned tie.

"Let's get started, shall we?" He went straight to the far end of the table and sat down. Once everybody was in thier seats and paying attention, he started right in.

"I hope you've been enjoying getting to know your new home. If you have any questions just let me know, or ask the computer." He took a breath to mark a change of topic.

"The mission of the Knights is the same as that of the NYPD: to serve and to protect the public. Only while they do so with regards to matters mundane, we handle things in the metahuman arena. The computer tracks a wide assortment of news sources and will give us alerts when it thinks there's a situation we need to know about. We don't have to respond to everything, but at least we'll know about it."

"Previously, NYPD dispatch, the Mayor's office, and several federal agencies had the ability to call us for help directly, but that's been decomissioned over the years. Starting with the NYPD today I've been trying to reestablish that link, but...well, the trust level has been less than I'd hoped. The day the Knights failed to respond a police officer died, and organizations like the NYPD have a long memory and tend to hold grudges. But the police bands are on the computer's watch list, so hopefully we'll be ready when the time comes."

Dynamo nodded his head. He had read about that and he wondered just how much Lee knew that wasn't in the records that he was given access to. He knew the only way to make things right with the NYPD was to get out there and show themselves as worthy of trust. Even had the Knights not disappeared, this team would need to form its own bond with the Police and G-men.

"Until then, the biggest job in front of us is to begin to get used to working with each other. The great strength of the Knights was never the individual powers or abilities of it's members, but in how those things were played off of each other. I'm talking about teamwork. In order to be successful, you're going to have to become greater than the sum of your parts. But that takes time and practice - lots and lots of practice."

"Fortunately, the simulation room is designed for exactly this level of fine-tuning. We're going to be running team exercises every night. Once you get the hang of what each other can do, we'll move to coordinational tactics. Some of you understand what I'm getting at and some of you don't. That's fine, we'll all be learning from each other at the beginning."

He leaned back and asked, "Any questions so far?"

"Will we have a trainer?" Mayhem asked as she leaned her chair backwards. "I'm all for your plan, I'll need some help though integrating into a team mentality. I've been a solo act out of Chicago until now."

Lee answered, "I'll be leading the simulations from the control booth, setting the parameters, conditions, and objectives of the training sessions and measuring various success factors which we'll review as a group. As you get more used to working as a team, my hope is that you'll begin to develop your own training routines."

Salandra sighed a bit, as the vision of a studly German trainer named Hans, slowly morphed into her mind until he was the disappointing apparition of Mr. Lee.

Dynamo raised his hand respectfully. Once acknowledged, he cleared his throat; he was clearly uncomfortable with this line of questions. When he began his question, his voice held no accusation; it was quiet and humble. "I have read about the disappearance of the former Knights team. Is there any more to the story that we need to know? Or that we ought to know?"

Daniel Lee seemed to freeze into a solid block of iron as the question was asked, his features hardening like winter. For a man who was known for his equanamity, the topic was clearly one that affected him deeply. His eyes swept across the compliment of Knights who, by their silent attention, revealed that this had been a large question on their minds as well. But that was to be expected, he knew. There was a pause pregnant enough to suggest twins before he finally took a deep breath and spoke.

"I've not spoken of this matter to anyone since it happened. In the end, I never felt it was anybody's damn business. But given who and where you are, I suppose that makes it your business."

He paused again as if collecting his thoughts, but there was a also sense of Lee gathering himself up to tell the tale.

"The records were kept pretty well for the 80's. An alert came in on April 30 around eleven thirty at night from upstate, some science facility in the Adirondacks reported they were under attack. The transmission was dicey so there weren't many details, but it was apparently enough that the team boarded the Falcon and took off for the place. And then...that's it."

Lee leaned back in his seat, staring into the middle distance watching a replay that only he could see. "I used every method at my disposal to locate them afterwards. Scanned with every technology known to man and a few that aren't. I tried telepathy, mysticism... I burned every contact I had - nothing. I couldn't even locate the damn jet."

He returned his attention to the room and it's occupants. "I looked on every continent, at the bottom of the oceans, in orbit, on the moon. When NASA sent that little robot to Mars I even arranged for a Knights beacon to be part of the surface package. That took some work, too."

Finally, he addressed Dynamo directly. "You know everything else. Over the years I had to let go or...well, I had to let it go. After twenty-three years I figured it was time to stop waiting for the Knights to return, which led to us all being here. This town has been without the Knights for too long."

Dynamo nodded. "Thank you. I am sorry for the loss of your friends." His words were heart-felt and solemn. "I'm sure we will all do our part to live up to the legacy that you have been so kind to lend to us."

Rachel's eyes had tears in them as Daniel talked about his fruitless search. "I'm sorry," she said simply. As usual, her sad mood didn't last long, although she was more subdued than usual as she continued. "I have a little different question."

She giggled, then continued. "It seems a little silly, compared to the others, but I wanted to ask. Are we going to have any staff here?" He looked around at the others. "From what we said, none of us know how to cook. I imagine we will get pretty tired of microwave food. I'm sure there are other jobs that will need doing too."

Lee shook his head negatively. "There's never been a staff here," he explained. "This place has always been run like a home, with each member of the family doing their part. It's led to some arguments, some differences of opinion as to what should go where or how things should be done, but in the end it made the Knights more than just a team. They were a family, and that's something I'd like to see carried over if nobody has any objections."

The front of Mayhem's chair slapped back onto the ground in response to her 'objection'. She knew, like she knew, like she knew...that she needed to keep her mouth shut. ...but she was Salandra fucking Brandt and she'd been waited on hand and foot since she was a new born babe. "Well...if we're to be a family, I call dibs on the endearing spoiled teenager that breaks curfew." She tried to offer up a smile, but it wasn't very convincing. "...but Mr. Lee...it seems that none of really have any domestic skills. We wouldn't want to get malnourished...or drown in filth. Can't we just be a wealthy family with servants?"

Lee opened one of the files in his stack. "Speaking of cooking, I've completed a background check on the guest we spoke of, Flashfire. The guest policy here has always been pretty tight. The individual has to pass a vigorous background check and then the group has to decide if they're willing to give this person access to The Pier. If both pass, I issue a security clearance and a level three access card."

"Your requested guest passed the background check," he concluded to the team speedster, closing the file. "If you want to make them an official guest, it's up to you to get everyone's approval."

"Can whoever it is cook?" Chance asked hopefully.

"It's my Mama, and she makes Emeril look like the second assistant manager of fries at WhattaBurger." Johnny said, with a broad grin.

Rachel clapped her hands and laughed. "That takes care of both of my questions then. I was worried when you said you mother might not be able to visit. Plus if she would be willing to cook for us, even occasionally, that would be really great." She looked thoughtful, although her smile didn't fade. "We might need some kind of cover story to explain her coming and going. Or a costume."

"Well now, hang on, Frosty-girl, she ain't got full team approval just yet," Chance laughed. "And like you're pointing out, there are problems to consider even if she does. How we protect our real identities from her, for instance. Or do we? Johnny, she's in danger from the moment the first person recognizes that she's a regular visitor here, whether she really knows who we all are or not. There's a lot to think about, but Ah ain't sayin' `no', just so you know. Good Italian cookin', and leftovers, are gonna be worth some effort to figure the rest of it out somehow."

"I have no problems with Johnny's mother." Dynamo said. "Certainly having someone here to keep us all in line would be a good thing. Kind of like those fraternity house-mothers."

"Ey, whoa now.... Don' be gettin me wrong here. I love my Mama, but I was thinkin' like on Sundays, or, maybe, you know, like every other Sunday." Johnny began. "I know she'd never tell anyone, if she could help it, I thought there might be, you know, a secret entrance, like the batcave, or something she could use." He took a moment to look around at each of them.

"That we could all use. Im not looking forward to having my picture taken every time I gots ta leave or come back. Ain't there a back door outta here?"

"She passed all of security measures...and that seemed to be adequate for unmasking, for everyone else." Mayhem became acutely aware that she was the only one that hadn't shown her face. "...so, that works ok for me. I think that if any of you have people that you trust, that can pass the right security measures...I wouldn't want to stop you from having a guest."

And with that Mayhem pulled off the black cloth mask that covered her eyes and the top of her head. "I'm Salandra Brandt...some of my friends call me Salina."

Serena looked at her steadily, sure she'd seen her before but uncertain where that might have been. The feeling didn't have a good association with it, but other than that, she was drawing a blank. "Nice to meet you again, Salandra," she offered, toasting her with a coffee cup. "And Ah'm okay with Johnny's mama being a visitor here as often as he wants, though Ah may not choose to put her, and my family, at risk by sharing my identity with her, at least at first."

Dynamo nodded, though he had no idea who the woman was. "I should also tell you who I am." He stood and concentrated for a moment, his body seemed to give off a greenish glow and when that had faded, a much smaller man stood where Dynamo had been. "My name is Thomas Clay."

Clay was about 5'9" and thin. He looked very much like a college professor, including wearing a tan, camel's hair jacket with patches on the elbows. His dark hair was thinning just a bit at the front and he wore round, frame-less glasses. Thomas sat back at the table. "I promise; I really don't have any other secrets." He said with a self-effacing smile.

Her head tilted slightly as she watched Dynamo change into Thomas Clay, wondering if it felt as creepy to him on the inside of his skin, as it did to watch on the outside. "That's a neat trick," she said softly. "Is Dynamo a completely different person than Thomas Clay? Or are they -- you -- the same?"

"We are the same person - or we share the same mind." He said, having never really answered that question himself. "The atomic mass is shed into an ..." he stopped, "It's complicated." He paused, "It is a difficult feeling - shedding and gaining the mass and the power. If it would make you all more comfortable, I will change back."

Rachel smiled at Thomas. It was neat to see the team starting to come together. They were starting to trust each other already, which just felt great. Everything she had ever been a part of before had needed that trust, this probably would too. "Whichever way you want is fine with me," she said. "I'd love to discuss how it works some time, if you are willing. I'm not much of a nuclear physicist, but I know the basics."

Elastic Man had seen something like Dynamo's transformation before in an infocast about the Protectorate of Incoras VI. Elastic Man considered it for a moment. "Do you gain mass by converting the energy of atomic bonds?" he asked. The name Dynamo also seemed to be familiar from his brief studies of North American history. Some other hero with a similar name, perhaps?

Anyway, that was of no matter at the moment. The others seemed to be divulging their secret identities. He didn't really want to give away his own but should he do the same to fit in? Was this what was expected of him? Daniel Lee already knew his secret identity, or at least some of it, so was it all that secret?

He wanted to be accepted by these people so, smiling, Elastic Man caused the cowl around his head to melt into his skin. His face, or at least the human face of Rick Roe, was uncovered.

"Hi, I'm Richard Roe", Elastic Man said and then added, as an echo of Salandra's words, "Some of my friends call me Rick". Well, actually, Milo called him Ricky most of the time but others called him Rick. Most humans seemed to have a nickname or a shortened version of their first name. And Rick was pretty close to his real name.

"In any event," Lee interjected, "A decision doesn't have to be made today. After all, it's only Monday, and Sunday is a ways off yet." He almost smiled at his own humor to Flashfire.

"I think it would be a good idea if--"

The lights in the room dimmed for two seconds as the computer voice interrupted, "Alert...Outer perimiter breach attempt in progress, south wing."

"Computer, display a visual," Lee replied calmly.

The entire top half of the western conference room wall suddenly became an amazingly sharp high-definition video screen. What looked like a live feed from a security camera clearly showed two men attempting to scale the tall wrought-iron fence which surrounded The Pier. They'd chosen a harder-to-see spot semi-concealed by some large utility boxes on the outside. One was giving the other a five-finger lift up to the top crossbar. The one givng the lift looked like he had a small video camera attached to a strap over his shoulder.

"The media," Lee grumbled almost under his breath. His tone when he said the word 'media' clearly stated his personal opinion of the breed. "I should have that fence electrified."

Addressing the team, Lee explained, "I expected a circus of some kind today but I admit I didn't think they'd try jumping the fence at least until nightfall. It appears our friends in the media have become even more arrogant than I realized."

He studied each member of the team for a moment, weighing his options. Elastic Man and Frostbite weren't ready to handle the press one-on-one just yet. As right-minded as he might be, Flashfire was unfortunately a strong stereotype. That might work to the team's advantage some other time, but not for a first impression. Mayhem - he really wished she'd taken his advice about that name - was media savvy, but too much a wildcard. That left Dynamo and Chance, and she was the fastest of the two.

"Chance, would you please ask our univited guests to apply on our website if they wish a guest pass. Remind them, too, if you will, about the laws regarding breaking and entering in New York City. Then please join us in the atrium."

"Of course, Boss. Mah pleasure," Chance drawled, not bothering to hide her grin. "Shouldn't be a problem a'tall."

Lee stood. "Everyone else, please come with me. A press conference was inevitable today. We might as well get it over with before they start digging tunnels."

Reporters! Thomas said, shifting back into his Dynamo form. He had not realized that they would be so brazen. He grimaced at the thought of people trespassing into the Knights' Shrine, defiling their base. These people would need to learn respect.

"Awww....come on Mr. Lee. Can I back her up? In the spirit of team...they might be packing more than cameras there?" Mayhem's voice rang with convincing sincerity, but on the inside she was just trying not to sulk over not getting to go. Regardless of his answer, she swept her mask off of the table and put it back on.

Now Lee did smile. "Oh, I'm sure Chance can handle a couple of overzealous reporters," he told her while walking over and making to join her in a walk towards the door. "Besides, I need you to help me with your teammates. You've had more experience in front of a pack of paparazzi then anybody, so I'm counting on you to see to it that they look good as well as competent. You know what I mean."

"Alright, Mr. Lee." Mayhem's voice was a bit sulky, but she lifted her chin a little higher when he gave her the task.

Dynamo stood. He was unsure - exactly - what good a press conference would do; but he had had lessons in dealing with the media from his friends at West Point. It seemed much more important now than it had. He hoped that he would not disappoint Mr. Lee -- or the good name of the Knights.

Chance never dropped her grin, drawing on her mask and hat with some relish. She'd known as soon as Salandra asked the question what the answer had to be -- Mr. Lee was every bit the diplomat Ahriman had once been, though. She tipped her hat to her team once, stepped through the door to the hallway, and pixellated out of existence.

As Chance vanished, Rachel popped up to her feet. "My first press conference. This is going to be so awesome," she bubbled. Wishing she had a mirror, she checked her cowl and mask as best she could, making sure it was all straight. "Where do we go?" she asked brightly.

"To the atrium," Lee answered. "Where you entered this morning."

****BAMF!!****

To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall, dash away dash away... She was reciting it to herself as she repixellated just inside the door onto the roof. Mr. Lee had said the exterior walls had been built to resist t-porting in or out, and Chance knew this wasn't a good time to put that to the test. Instead she exited the normal way and stood on the roof for a moment, reorienting, then finding the two would-be intruders with her Probability Sight.

Wasn't nothin' but a thing to reappear near them -- normals could be so slow -- smiling broadly. As Chance's form assembled itself near the fence, the reporter climbing the fence was already carefully clearing the top and preparing to leap down. His back was to her, and his buddy's focus was on the climber, so she hadn't been noticed just yet.

"Howdy boys!" She said loudly, pointing at the guy atop the fence with a sweeping, under-handed, palm-up kind of gesture. That kind of "Instant Karma" was usually rough on everyone, but she'd toned it down to about half-strength and hoped that, in this case, it would at least cause the seat of his pants to blow out -- if not fritz out the camera too.

The man at the top of the fence startled at her sudden appearance and lost his handling.

"Woah-woAAAHHH-erk-" He hit the ground hard, but didn't appear to be more than dazed.

"Ah been asked to inform y'all on behalf of the New York Knights that applications for guest passes are available on our website -- that's `www.NewYorkKnights.net' -- and that enterin' the premises without one is actually against the laws of the Great State of New York. Now, Ah'm sure you two really didn't intend on a little recreational B&E today, so Ah'm more than happy to help y'all out, keep you on the right side of the law and all."

Chance didn't bother to walk like a mundane. She pixellated away from one spot and into another right next to the guy on the ground. She reached out to touch him, then laughed -- it was the same guy who'd accosted her when she tried to enter, earlier. "Ah should put you in the river this time, honey, but Ah'm on my best behavior, so Ah won't."

"Now now, let's not be hasty! Perhaps we can come to some sort of arrang---"

He pixellated out of existence before he could finish the sentence. She looked at the next guy, head tilted.

"I'm gone," he assured her, taking off on foot at an amazingly fast run.

"Oh good. So 'm Ah," Chance agreed, taking a quick P-Jump back to the atrium to join her new friends.

****BAMF!!****

Lee led the team into the large, expansive entrance foyer and kept them near the back, by the memorial. Outside the glass main entrance they could see what now looked like at least thirty or forty members of the press collected outside the gate. Beyond them, closer to the street, a long line of parked news vans were all in various stages of raising the mini-towers full of satellite broadcast gear on their roofs. In front of each was a talking head in front of a camera. They were either giving a report, preparing to do so, or working makeup and hair.

"This is where we hold our events involving the public, including things like press conferences, celebrations, cocktail parties, birthday parties, whatever. We typically put a small stage and a podium over there against the wall and arrange the seating in rows facing. It's all in storage under the floor."

He looked outside at the media zoo. "Today, I think, we'll have the press conference outside. I'm not quite willing to let that mob in here just yet."

Salandra took a few moments to walk around each of her team mates, considering their appearance and their costumes. "Dynamo. You look great. Are you prepared to answer those questions about the old Dynamo? ...cuz somebody is going to hit you with that."

Dynamo nodded, "I supposed I'll have to be." He said. He looked over to Lee. "Are you sure this is important?" He asked. "We could just announce our presence by saving some people or stopping some crime - couldn't we. Without ... well ... without all this media?"

Lee nodded to the atomic hero. "The press is very different than you remember," he explained. "The news cycle is 24-7 now, so anything with potential legs is hyped up and pumped out by the mass media. Unfortunately, somewhere in the modern rush, journalism and integrity gave way to infotainment and yellow journalism. Nowadays these vultures will make up the details rather than do their homework, so it's more important than ever to get ahead of the stories and do what you can to control the content."

While Salandra listened to Lee's reply she stopped at Frostbite and straightened her hood and mask, a bit. "Can you breathe alright under all of this? Make sure you speak loud and clear, no muffly speech. Got it? They're going to love you...they'll eat up that bubbly personality of yours."

"Thank you so much," Rachel said happily. She spontaneously hugged Mayhem quickly and felt the dark heroine become rigid under her affection. Rachel was still on cloud nine at the thought of being at an actual press conference. "I'll do my best. Somehow I doubt their going to be paying much attention to me with you and Chance there. You guys are so beautiful and well dressed. I still feel kind of silly," she added quietly with a grin.

"Elastic Man." She smiled at him a bit, his face made him seem to be the serious sort, but only time and interaction would tell. "Try to smile, you have a nice smile. ...not sure about that whole...your flexible friend gimmick... but whatever works for you."

His cowl back in place and covering the top half of his head, Elastic Man nodded at Salandra and then broke into a grin. It was a winning smile and yet... something seemed off. He looked a little predatory.

Mayhem shook her head a bit and lifted a hand to his face, placing a slender finger on each side of his mouth and squeezing in a bit. "Not quite so ... much. There. Better. Very subtle difference between nice smile and looking like the big bad wolf."

"Flexible friend is my plucky catchphrase or descriptive calling card", explained Elastic Man, his face still grinning. "Most superheroes have them. 'Friend' indicates that I am to be trusted and am one of the good guys. Flexible describes my ability". Though not all of my abilities, thought Elastic Man. He was flexible but it went further than that. Much further.

Salandra put a hand over her mouth to stifle a grin. She wasn't the jovial sort when she was in costume and really didn't want to break character, but his catch phrase was too much. "Dude. Flexible friend sounds like a tag line on my battery operated boyfriend. I'm just saying...if you don't want to make Letterman's top 10 dirtiest catchphrases EVER, you might wanna rethink it. ...but..." She couldn't keep her green eyes from dancing merrily, "...I really don't care. Just giving you a heads up that it might be more humorous than you intended it to be."

Elastic Man stood up tall and then asked, "Do you wish me to look different? Perhaps different colors for my costume or a build that is more well-built?"

Mayhem cocked her eyebrow at that but shook her head. "You look fine for this. ...but it might be fun for some show and tell later."

Elastic Man had never been to a press conference before. Although he looked forward to the opportunity, he wasn't sure he liked the attention. He preferred to stay in the background in situations like this.

Chance was still gone, but Mayhem wasn't worried about her in the least. She looked great, and she was blessed with both the gift of gab and a sexy accent. Totally not fair.

Last she walked over to Flashfire, taking another lingering look at him as she walked around him one last time. "That costume looks really good on you. Really good, nice and tight." She gave him one of her dazzling smiles. "Colors are great too. Now...you didn't seem too familiar with your name earlier at security. You good with Flashfire? It has a nice ring to it, I just wanna make sure you're down with it before we go out there. And make sure to project your voice past that mask, don't let it slur that sexy accent of yours. The locals are gonna be into you."

Johnny had been all kinds of quiet, since the security alarm had gone off. He had seen plenty of press, at fires and traffic accidents, but the official FDNY line had been for him to say, "no comment". This was going to be a bit different. He nodded at Salan... Mayhem. He was going to have to remember their code names, and not give their real ones.

"Thanks." Was the only thing he could think to say.

"You all look fabulous!" Salandra affected an exaggerated pose with a hand on her hip. while her other hand gestured towards them. "If you get asked a question you don't want to answer, strike a bit of a pose, don't over do it though. The flashes should save you until another question is shouted out at you."

Outside, there was some commotion among the gathered throng as a body appeared out of nowhere among them, causing some laughter and a few dollars to be exchanged among the more savvy. Chance pixelated into the room soon after, and Lee took a few steps and turned around to face them all.

"I'll go out first and set the table," he explained like a coach breaking down the team's game plan. "When we're ready, I'll motion for you to come outside and join me. Try to stand in a line, side-by side, so they can see all of you. These folk are all about image, so think about the image you're presenting - stand straight, look focused and engaged, and so on. I will make a statement and then I'll take questions one at a time from the press. If you are asked a direct question, pause to collect your thoughts before answering. If you don't want to answer, just say "no comment". If you need help, our signal will be to just raise a hand over your shoulders in any kind of gesture like a head scratch or a chin rub. I'll jump in at that point."

He took a sigh and appraised his team. Could be worse, he thought. Could be much worse. Hell, it's been worse.

Daniel Lee seemed all of his seventy-two years of age for a moment, the first real view of how much this person had been through over the years and the toll which had been exacted on display if even for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry if this seems like a lot, but first impressions are important. Once things settle down these people will go back to their desks and it will become a much more manageable situation."

He straightened his tie and smoothed his suit jacket while turning to Mayhem. "How do I look?"

Salandra took a step forward and straightened his already straight tie. "You look like your living in a bad dream. Smile. We won't embarrass you or the memory of the Knights." ...yet.

The cool and steady Daniel Lee they'd all interviewed with turned on his heel and strode to and out the main entrance doors. An immediate uproar from the press ensued. From inside the atrium, the Knights watched as he made his way to the gate, looking around and even up in the sky several times.

Another microphone appeared in the general throng of them, completely unnoticed in the hubbub Mr. Lee's appearance had caused. Inside, with the others, Chance grinned to herself and listened to his words, ready to relay to the others anything he said that they'd need to back up. And if there ain't nothin', well, we can always watch it on the news, later.

He raised his hands to calm the crowd and then started speaking to them, digital recorders and microphones on booms stretched out through the bars of the gate. NYPD had arrived and Lee worked something out with them before returning to address the crowd who had put their recording devices away. After five minutes, when all was said and done, the wide gate had been opened but was still closed off by blue police wooden horses. Some five or six police officers were present, two at the barricade and the rest trying to ensure the gathering remained orderly.

Then Lee turned back towards The Pier's main entrance and gestured for the team to join him.

"Remember stand together, united," Mayhem said as she nudged Rachel to step forward with her. The dark heroine advanced with the others towards Mr. Lee, making sure to stand with them and not behind or in front of them. She felt the power in the air around her, whispering to her, offering her its aid if she needed it.

Dynamo smiled and began his walk toward the press. He had handled the press in the past, but it had normally been just one or two reporters -- and they had given him as much information as he had given them. This was likely going to be more of a one-way street. He smiled as the flashbulbs went off and gave a friendly wave. He stopped on his mark and turned to face the reporters, waiting patiently for the questions to begin. Mr. Lee had emphasized how important this was: and if it was important to Lee, it was important to him.

Rachel walked beside Mayhem, trying not to bounce too obviously. As flashbulbs began to go off, blinding her, and a wall of sound hit her, she resisted the urge to put her hands up or retreat from the sheer noise. She knew how to present a good image, although this might even be louder than a football game. Smiling under her mask and concentrating on not falling down, she lined up with the rest and stood, standing straight and tall.

Still smiling, Elastic Man walked forward next to Dynamo but perhaps half a step behind. It was all more than he was expecting. He had wanted to ask Daniel what sort of questions the reporters might ask but it was too late now. And he wasn't sure what the point of all this was. They were superheroes - "to protect and serve" as Daniel Lee had put it - not entertainers. Why they insisted on so much spectacle Elastic Man wasn't sure.

"Why are all these reporters so eager to meet us?", Elastic Man whispered to Dynamo, feeling out of his depth.

It was the kind of press attention Serena Shaene would have adored, had it been for her music. The smile she offered was tinged with a bit of irony at that as she tipped that outrageously cool hat to the press several times, finally catching sight of the reporter she'd already encountered twice that day and giving him a playful wink. Gonna have to not reach for my hat once the questions start, unless it's one Ah don't wanna answer. Gotta remember that.

Johnny filed in with the rest of them, glad the reflective quality of his visor took the edge off the brilliant flashes of light. He assumed a place at the end of the line, and stood tall and straight, hoping that no one took any interest in him.

The immediate thing which struck all of them upon exiting the building, aside from the heat of the day, was the surprisingly proximate sound of helicopters. Looking up, there were two of them. They hovered in place maybe a couple thousand feet above them like gleaming metal dragonflies distinguished only by the color of the news team logo on the sides.

The previous mob of question shouters had become a semi-organized contingent preparing themselves on their side of the blue horses for whatever was to come. Some checked digital recorders, others scribed or dictated colorfully descriptive opening paragraphs or potential headlines. The talking heads were standing by in makeup and paper bibs while their technical crews checked lighting and angles.

Roughly fifty or so local Manhattanites were scattered closely behind the press, enjoying that most New York City of spectacles, the media circus. Some had small radios to their ears or were listening through earbuds. Inside one cable news van standing with it's sliding side door open the team could see a studio news feed in progress, the local diorama filling a small square screen over the anchor's shoulder. This morning's presentation was being shown live, all across the planet. Many of the surrounding apartment building windows were open with people who didn't have to be at work yet or at all leaning out to watch from afar while listening to their televisions.

As the Knights formed a line behind and to the right of Daniel Lee, a pair of high-wattage tower lights in the back flared to brightness and did the impossible task of making a perfectly sunny morning even brighter. Lee raised a hand and the multitude began to settle.

"For those of you who don't know me, my name is Daniel Lee," he started, knowing full well that everybody here knew who he was. "Since 1980 I have been the named trustee of the New York Knights Trust. For the past twenty-three years my duties in this regard have been mainly focused on the maintenence of this property and the management of the financial assets of the trust which serves to finance the operations of the New York Knights, operations which during that time have been nonexistent."

"As of today, that all changes. The activity seen here over the past several months, contractor and otherwise, has been the preparation for today. It is now my honor to make the following announcement: as of today, the New York Knights are officially back to full operating status."

That certainly got everyone's attention, as expected an annoucement as it was given the group of costumed individuals lined up in front of them. The media group took the pause as an opportunity to shout their best questions, while everywhere else the reaction was fairly uniform. The locals gathered around, even those in the apartment windows, applauded enthusiastically. Many were outright cheering with a hoot and a holler.

"Please...please..." Lee worked to calm the reporters down so as to continue his statement. Once they were somewhat ready he went on.

"We'll be picking up right where we left off two decades ago, serving the public to the best of our abilities and earning the trust of the city and it's citizens. I have already begun the process of reaching out to the NYPD and federal law enforcement agencies as well as the mayor's office to set expectations and develop working relationships."

Lee paused as if to brace himself, then said, "And now I would like to present to you your New York Knights. Starting at the far left we have Flashfire, Chance, Frostbite, Elastic Man, Dynamo, and Mayhem."

The flashbulbs were nearly constant as Lee introduced the team. They varied in size and intensity, some dimmer than others, with one in particular so powerfully dazzling that it almost seemed to pulse through them physically, adding a semi-regular heartbeat to the popping rhythm. The photographers jostled and elbowed for position as each tried to get the best shot.

Rachel smiled and waved at the reporters and the crowd. Nervous or not, she was having a great time. This was as exciting as she had hoped. Her mask hid her expression and rubbed funny on her face, annoying her. She made a mental note to see about a mask that left her mouth free to talk and eat.

Mayhem was a natural in front of the camera, striking one subtle pose after another, her face remained serious but through the lens of the camera, they could see from the fire in her eyes that she was enjoying the attention. She liked her spot standing next to Mr. Lee and didn't consider the reason, that he might have had, to keep her within his reach. Her good looks and presence did much to keep many of the watchful eyes focused on her.

Elastic Man stood there smiling a more natural smile than his earlier grimace and looking around at the crowds. This wasn't quite what he had agreed to when he'd decided to become one of Earth's protectors but if he had to go it to be a New York Knight then so be it.

He scanned the crowd looking for trouble and then looked up at the helicopters high above them. It was all rather overwhelming. Celebrities were practically unknown to the Qys. His people remembered the what and the how but not generally the who. It all seemed somewhat overdone and fake.

Glancing at Frostbite, Elstic Man noticed that the young woman was waving and nodding to the crowd. Looking down at his own arms, he realised that he was simply standing there impassively. Shrugging, Elastic Man formed his own hands into giant-sized foam-like hands like he'd seen at many sports events and started waving to the crowd. That seemed to help, he thought. It certainly got a reaction.

"Woah, that's bright," Lee replied smiling warily to one of the stronger bursts of light. "At this point I would like to follow with a brief question and answer period. Please, be respectful," he joke-chided them, eliciting some good-natured chortles from the press.

"Yes," Lee prompted, pointing at one of the recorder-weilding journalists.

"Gia Rubenstein, New York Sun," the reporter led with, realizing she was on live television and taking advantage to make sure that everybody knew who she was. "Is there any new information you can share with us regarding the search for the missing Knights? Are they now presumed dead?"

So much for respectful, Lee noted, but maneged to hide it behind a neutral expression.

"I'm presuming nothing at this point. The current status of those Knights is still officially unknown. Next question." He pointed to one of the talking heads in the back row.

"Dan Randall, CNN...my question is for Dynamo. Sir, you may recall a Doctor Dynamo who operated in a similar capacity some fifty-sixty years ago and to who you bear a striking resemblance. Any relation there?"

Rachel looked over at Dynamo, wondering how he would handle this first, difficult question.

Dynamo smiled and nodded at Mr. Randall then took a step forward towards the microphone. "My goal ... my hope ... is to live up to the name of Doctor Dynamo. When he spoke at the Point du Hoc Memorial in 1947, he said that it was 'the heroism of the men who died here that inspired him'. I too am inspired by the heroism that I see around me -- in our police and firemen -- and will hope to carry on now, as then. Thank you." He easily stepped back into line.

Oh, now wasn't that smooth, Chance mused to herself, admiringly. Answerin', without really sayin' anything. Showin' his experience there, a real pro. Wonder if he was ever considerin' a career in politics? Ah'd vote for him....

Most of the questions which followed were directed at Mr. Lee. In the end, the press seemed happy to be fed. There was a minor amount of posing for the cameras which was fine except for everyone other than Mayhem having to adjust to appearing open-eyed in the face of a flash bulb barrage.

When that one photographer with the super-intense flash asked for a group shot at the end, you could almost hear the collective groan. But he got his shot, and by the time the team had recovered their senses from the almost-phyiscal explosion of light the man had already muttered his thanks and had begun to make his way to his car parked across the street along the park with the other media vehicles.

****BAMF!!****

Six minutes later and the team was back in the conference room. The press had dispersed and a police officer had remained behind to keep vehicle and pedestrian traffic moving along.

"It's going to take some time," Lee told them, "but once the initial excitement dies down things will seem closer to normal. Actually, the general mood was more upbeat than I expected, so good for us. If you have any questions about dealing with the press, just see me or perhaps Mayhem off-line."

"Now," he said, switching topics, "There's always been an informal chain of command around here. Someone's always been tapped for a leadership role within the group, to make decisions when there's disagreement, to keep the team organized, and to make sure that everyone's on the same page. The team captain is responsible for duty assignments and for sanctioning team members when appropriate. The position is filled by acclamation, and said vote can be called by any team member at any time when all team members are present."

"As the team's advisor, I don't get a vote. But you all do, and this is a need you should address sooner rather than later."

This most recent news had Mayhem a bit concerned. "Look it. Mr. Lee. We've only know each other for a couple of hours. How on Earth are we suppose to make any sort of guess on this? Do you have a recommendation from the research you did when you selected us? You may not have a vote, but you don't strike me as a man that wouldn't have an opinion on the matter." She cocked her head cutely and grinned at him. "...and I for one would like to hear it."

Duty rosters? Sanctions? Sounds like the kind of thing that ought to be shunted off onto someone else's shoulders, Serena thought to herself, glancing around at her teammates. Someone's very broad shoulders, in fact. Very broad, experienced shoulders.

"Bet it's Dynamo," she smiled, pixellating out of her costume and into a clingy black, off the shoulder cashmere wool sweater dress and high heels. She kept the scarf from her costume, but changed it to a patterned black and emerald green -- Salandra spotted the classic Dior-esque detailing in both right away. "He's got the charisma and the team leadership cred. He'd be great for the job."

Elastic Man thought for a moment and then nodded. "I agree with Mayhem", he stated. "At this moment, I do not know who would be best to lead this group".

He looked around at the others. Although he didn't know the rest, a couple of candidates presented themselves. Frostbite and Flashfire seemed new to the superheroing business so they wouldn't be the best choices. There was something about Mayhew that seemed too chaotic, which ruled her out. That left Dynamo and Chance.

"Dynamo is a good choice", Elastic Man agreed with Chance. "He has previous experience. However, I get the impression you also have experience in this area, Chance?".

He looked across at his fellow knight and then across at Daniel Lee, awaiting his comments.

"Ah-heh, well yeah, see, the funny thing about all that was that Ah got a lot of experience in being the young smart-as---aleck. Smart aleck," she corrected herself almost immediately. "Was a member of MATST -- Multinational Anti-Terrorist Strike Team -- for a few years before it dissolved. Covert group of super powered beings trained to take out super-powered terrorist threats. Trained so well to work in a team that Ah wasn't much good at soloin' after it was over. But Ah was never the leader o' that group, not really. Spent most o' my time crackin' wise and makin' people laugh. Ain't hardly what y'all are lookin' for in a leader."

She jerked her thumb over at Dynamo. "He probably is, though."

Johnny looked around as he settled back into a chair and shrugged. "Works for me." He said simply.

Dynamo had been silent during the debate, he was certainly never one to politic for such a position; but would accept it if everyone wanted him to. Still, this wasn't the war or the military and he wasn't sure exactly what sanctioning a teammate would mean.

"If you would like me to lead you, I humbly accept." He said. "But, I am uncomfortable with certain aspects of the job - as Mr. Lee has described it."

He turned to Lee, "What exactly do you mean by sanction?"

Lee shrugged and replied, "If someone steps out of line, you get to resolve the issue. That includes assigning extra duties, even suspending someone from active participation on the team. It's up to you to handle it however you see fit, and it's very informal."

Lee smiled big then. "We've had some rather...creative punishments from time to time. Blue Shield actually had The Mantis write 'I will not continue to beat on surrendered foes' one thousand times on the conference room whiteboard once - no lie. It seems juvenile," he added, "but Mantis was a prideful SOB and he was pissed. You'll be amazed at how much the team responds to stuff like that once you get better accquainted."

That far-away look came back to Daniel's eyes again as he waxed nostalgic. "For the most part, you police each other. But...well, somebody needs to be nominally in charge of this crew. Otherwise you get chaos, and your enemies will feed off of that, believe me."

Dynamo nodded, "OK - I'll do it." He smiled at his teammates and humbly added, "I will do my best to not fail any of you."

"Well now, sounds real good to me," Serena chirped. "But Ah think Mayhem still had a reservation or two. What you say, gal? Gonna give ol' Dynamo here a trial run at bein' the boss, at least?"

Salandra rolled her eyes towards the ceiling and shrugged her shoulders. "Look it. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against any of you being the leader. I'm just against being told what to do in general. It usually doesn't work well for me. I do agree though, that of what little I know of you all, Dynamo seems to be the best choice. So...he's got my vote."

Rachel gave a cheer. "Yay, Dynamo. You'll be a great leader!" Giving the large man a quick hug, she smiled happily. The team seemed to be coming together. Now they had a leader and everything. She was just glad no one had mentioned her for the job. Although she had been captain of the cheerleading team and the debate team, she wasn't ready to lead something like this. She had enough to do just figuring out how to be part of the team.

Lee nodded. "Congratulations, Dynamo. I'm sure you will be up to the challenge."

The rest of the meeting was much more mundane. Lee detailed the more administrative aspects of being a Knight, such as payroll, benefits, and yes, even insurance. Once that was over he took the meeting for a walking tour of the base.

The facility was impressive to say the least. Some of the technology seemed impossible by modern standards, but Lee did a fair job explaining how everything worked. The science labs were marvels of efficiency of space, allowing for deep exploration into any of the various scientific fields.

The crown jewel of the place was easily the simulation room. From the control room, any environment could be generated via the intuitive computer controls. The voice recognition allowed use and control of the space from within, so that team members could work out on their own time outside of scheduled team exercises.

The machine that made it all possible was located beneath the room itself. It ventured outside of science to touch on science fiction, using conversions of matter and energy to generate completely convincing simulations, even physically harmful ones should there be a call for it. So advanced was the technology that Lee admitted it wasn't "local" in origin, but a token of esteem from an organization "not quite earthly in origin" who had benefitted from the Knights actions in an earlier time.

The command and control center was the operational heart of the Knights. When a call came in, this was where it was received. Computer stations for managing a crisis, the team communication network, and the computer were all present. A huge wide screen, easily seventeen feet on the diagonal, was the videoconference and main computer display.

One chair had a small brass plate bolted to the back. The plate showed signs of age not shared by the rest of the new decor and was engraved with the words "THE HOT SEAT".

"An inside joke amongst the previous team," Lee explained. This was the seat used by whomever was assigned monitor duty, a post expected to be filled at all times back then. Now, Lee advised, the team had to decide for themselves if they wished to keep the policy from the old regime or adopt a new style. There were pros and cons to either approach, but Lee offered no advice other than to think about it.

Once the tour was completed, the Knights were again left to their own devices until that evening's training session. Lee departed the base for his Upper East Side apartment, his job complete.

The New York Knights were back.