"We'll be arriving shortly."

A brief announcement crackled through the PA system of a passing Whale King, prompting an excited murmur from two of the three passangers. Theresa Wicken and Gregory Clark being those two particular pilots, Hector Jacobs being the third. The three were the members of the recently formed Team Eidolon, an obscure team without a single official battle on their record. They all had high hopes, though, even moreso with the recent accomplishments of Theresa and Greg.

Presently, Hector was watching a replay of the Blue Heat Cup on his laptop, while Greg and Theresa chattered some, looking out the window anxiously.

"I still can't believe you got chosen.. I mean, what were the odds?" Greg smiled, shaking his head a bit to get the hair out of his eyes. "I dunno, but there was no way in hell I expected-" Theresa was cut off by a sudden grunt from Hector.

"Greg. It was your idea to get up onto the rock shelf, wasn't it? The hell were you thinking, man? Both of those zoids had more than enough firepower to level it, easily-"

More than a little irate at being interupted, Theresa grumbled. "Will you quit naggin' him? It seems like you're pretty damn jealous that you didn't get to fi-"

Cut off, again. "You know damn well I don't want anything to do with the Institute, Theresa. First of all, it wasn't even a real victory for either of you, more luck than anything."

Greg yawned lazily. "Whatever, dude. We must have done something right, even if you don't think so. Not like you work there, so your opinion really isn't worth anythin'. Lighten up."

Hector rolled his eyes, pulling his hat down a bit lower on his head. Still watching the battle replay, taking notes to himself and muttering every now and then. Theresa and Greg ignored him for the most part.

"What is it you're doing, again? Test pilot.. Dunno, seems rather vague.."

Theresa raised an eyebrow. "Vague? How's that vague? Test pilot. Obviously.. I'll be piloting stuff they haven't released yet. Testing it. Not that hard to comprehend."

"Well yeah, I get that much. I just thought they'd have the developers do stuff like that so they didn't have a need to hire test pilots. Don't all zoids function in the same basic way? I mean.. I dunno."

"Not all of 'em."

"Well, then.. there's gotta be some catch, or somethin'. There just gonna let you run around and fight in prototypes?"

"I guess?" Theresa shrugged, raising an eyebrow as Greg snickered a bit.

"You know, maybe they need a test pilot so they don't risk killing off any of their well-trained employees, or somethin'," he elbowed her shoulder jokingly before going on. "Or maybe-"

Hector looked up from his laptop, glaring at Greg. "The fuck're you talking about, boy? Would they have a whole big contest like Blue Heat to find a crash dummy?"

Greg yawned again. "Still can't identify sarcasm, can ya?"

Theresa just rolled her eyes. "Can't you both just save it for the battlefield? I mean, honestly. We should be there soon, just chill out.. really."

Hector rolled his eyes, looking back down at the laptop. Greg and Theresa simply continued watching out the window, eagar to arrive at last.

A young Trillstani male sat at another table in the common room. Everything about him spoke of a distinguished gentleman, from the square-rimmed bifocals perched on the end of his nose to the newspaper braced against his crossed legs and the cane resting with its head against the exposed sole of his left shoe. He was Ash Brackston, the twenty-year-old grandson of the Institute's venerable project director, and he was riding the liner to chauffeur Miss Wicken and her comrades to the Institute once the Whale King set down in the Athenian port. He was also escorting the two Stingers the Whale King carried in its cargo bay, but nobody needed to know about that.

Hector closed the replay of the battle in favor of browsing the net, checking email, something of that nature. It was hard to tell without looking over his shoulder, and since he had his back to the wall of the Whale King, it remained unknown.

Another crackle over the PA system.

"We'll be touching down at the Athenian port within five minutes. Please prepare for arrival."

Following the announcement was a brief series of chime-sounding beeps, and then elevator music. Theresa grinned anxiously.

"I wonder how different it'll be from the last time I was here," Greg mused, eyes still focused outside the window.

"You've been here before?" Theresa questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Yup. On vacation with my parents an' Sarah a couple years ago, remember? Missed the first week of school, n'all."

"Oh yeah. You know, I can't help but wonder why they'd base an Insitute like this in such a touristy place.."

Greg shrugged, and Hector looked up from his computer, rolling his eyes.

"Of course they'd have it in a tourist-trap. Another way to make money. Yanno, charging for tours and crap like that. Wouldn't suprise me if they had some sorta mueseum or somethin' either. That's all these places are concerned about. Money."

He spat the last word with a hint of disgust. The Whale King jolted a bit, signifying their descent, perhaps. Hector grumbled again, turning off his laptop and folding it, sliding it into his open bag and closing it before turning his attention back to his teammates.

"Baggage claim's gonna be a bitch, so let's try an' get off before the crowd."

Theresa nodded a bit automatically, while Greg simply shrugged. "Eh, whatever. Not like there's any rush."

Hector just growled dully, shaking his head and waiting for the Whale King to land and the doors to open.

Ash noted the PA announcement, then folded up his newspaper and picked his cane up. He tucked the paper under his left arm, holding the cane in his right hand. It was clear from the way he moved that his right leg was all but useless. He looked about the common room, then walked out with a surprisingly swift limp. Unlike the members of Team Eidolon, he'd stayed in a room aboard the Whale King due to the fact that he'd been aboard it for a few days prior to this trans-oceanic trip. He figured he had plenty of time to catch up with the new test pilot, seeing as how this was her first time in Athens. Baggage claim alone would take up at least an hour.
Ash reached the room by the time the Whale King had put in port, though passengers had not begun debarking. He was a light traveler, keeping everything in one suitcase. It was a simple matter to pack his razor and toothbrush back into his black briefcase and change out of his jeans and polo shirt into a business suit. It wouldn't do to seem too casual when chaperoning these kids, after all.
Almost as soon as he was finished, the PA intoned again. "Thank you for choosing the White Line Shipping. We hope you enjoyed your trip, and welcome you to beautiful Athens. Passengers may now begin debarking the ship. Thank you."
Ash noted the second announcement, hanging back a bit. Debarking would take two hours, give or take, and the first rush was always the worst. With his game leg, he couldn't exactly handle pushing and shoving. So Ash sat down on the bed, opened up his newspaper and resumed reading it.

With the doors open, the crowd made its way forward. Hector did a good ammount of shoving to try and get up there, but despite his height, he was actually lacking the sheer body weight to force his way to the front. To further complicate matters, Greg was taking his sweet time grabbing his carry-on, and Theresa didn't seem to be in any hurry either. And well, getting seperated would really just be an even bigger pain in the ass.

"Will you two hurry up?"

Greg yawned, and Theresa didn't seem to hear - either that, or she was just flat-out ignoring him.

"Oh, for the love of fuck- no way we're gonna get out early now," he snarrled, stamping back to the seats the other two were leaning against. "Good work, guys. We'll be stuck in here for at least an hour at this rate."

Theresa rolled her eyes. "Lighten up, bro. Seriously, what's your hurry?"

"Hurry? Y'mean besides wanting to avoid the fuckin' crowd and maybe get out of the goddamn port-"

He was cut off by a swift elbow to his gut. Eyes blazing, he glared at Theresa - who pointed to a family leading two small children towards the crowd. She hissed through teeth clenched in a smile.

"Watch your language."

Greg snickered to himself at the other two, quietly watching the passangers that passed by. No one in particular caught his attention, until he noticed a man with a cane limping in the opposite direction, perhaps to the bathroom or a personal room. He shrugged, his attention drifting back and forth between Theresa and Hector's bantering and people-watching.

Ash checked his watch. About an hour had passed since they started letting the passengers off the Whale King. The crowds should be just starting to thin out enough for him to get through. He folded his newspaper up and set it on the bed beside him. Ash picked up his cane, braced himself on it with both hands, and hauled himself up. Hooking the handle of his briefcase with his left, he headed out the door and towards the debarkation ramps. He made a steady pace, and by now the only folks left aboard were the ones decent enough to give a cripple room to walk.
Ash appreciated that. He was still getting used to his right leg being all but a dead weight since that car accident last year, and had learned to really appreciate little gestures like someone holding a door open for him.

Hector spent the hour of waiting sitting, fuming, barking curses at Greg every now and then. So naturally, when he noticed the majority of the people were already gone, he got a bit more uptight - new questions were forming in his mind. He turned to Theresa.

"Is someone from the Institute s'posed to meet us, or somethin'?"

She just shrugged, yawning. Probably disregarding most of what he said.

"Dunno."

With a groan, Hector rose to his feet, grabbing his bag again. "Come on, then.. bet the baggage claim's crowded as fuck by now." Greg rolled his eyes a bit, responding cooly as he stood.

"By the time we get there, I'm sure the rush'll have passed."

Hector just scoffed and shook his head, heading towards the exit ramp and looking over his shoulder every now and then to make sure his teammates were following him. Theresa kept some distance from her stepbrother, but headed after him anyway. Greg tagged along, slowest of the bunch.. just watching.

Catching sight of the man with the cane, he blinked a bit. The suitcase he was toting didn't look that heavy, but it must have been hampering him somewhat. Letting the others walk ahead, he slowed his pace to match the man's. Tilting his head a bit, he spoke up at last, still a bit quiet.

"'Scuse me, need any help with that?"

Greg simply offered, not wanting to offend or impose on him. Not like he had any malicious intention, or anything.

Ash stopped and eyed Greg for a moment. “Your offer is kind, Mr. Clark; but I assure you I can manage this briefcase just fine.” His voice was gravelly, though not unpleasantly so. He recognized Greg from pictures he had seen of the Cup-winning Team. “I am Ashley Brackston. The Institute sent me to chaperone yourself and your teammates around Athens until you have become accustomed to the city.”

Greg blinked. He didn't recognize the guy in the slightest, how did he know his name? He was about to interupt, but being a bit soft-spoken and trying to be polite despite the fact he was startled, didn't quite manage. Which worked anyway, since Ash answered his question. He grinned a bit, nodding.

"Ahh, alright, cool. Hector was just whining about finding someone from the Institute. Hey, Theresa!"

Hector groaned, turning and stopping as Theresa turned her head. "Eh?"

"This guy's from the Institute," Greg stated simply, still grinning, especially after noting Hector's growing irritation. He offered a hand to Ash as the other two started walking over. "Nice to meet ya."

Ash stooped to set his briefcase down and switch his cane to his left hand to shake Greg's hand. "I assure you, the pleasure is mine." He turned to address Theresa and Hector. "As I said to your friend, my name is Ashley Brackston. I take it you are Miss Wicken and Mr. Jacobs?"

Theresa nodded, offering her hand as well, while Hector simply stood with a sulky look on his face, arms folded.

"Yep, that'd be us." She responded cheerfully. Really, she was looking forward to this new job of hers, and even Hector being an ass wasn't going to ruin her mood. After a moment, Hector spoke up again, offering a half-smile.

"So, don't suppose your affiliation with the Institute'll let us get through baggage claim and get our zoids outta here any faster, eh?"

Greg rolled his eyes a bit at Hector's comment, but didn't say anything.

Ash smiled thinly. "Unfortunately, no. The Athenian officials have a policy of checking every zoid that comes through the city, and they seem to delight in making the baggage claim procedure as long and difficult as possible."

"Well, damn." Hector sighed, shifting his bag on his shoulder. "Don't travel much.. so, how long will all that take? Baggage an' zoids, n'all that?"

"The zoids can take up to two or three days," Ash replied. "The baggage up to four hours, depending on how slow they're moving and how busy they are. Given that this is the only Whale King in port right now, it should only be an hour or so."

With a bit of an annoyed grumble, Hector simply shrugged in response. Greg peered down at Ash's suitcase, taking a guess that he brought that with him to avoid baggage claim. "Ah, well." Greg shrugged. "S'pose by the time we get to the baggage claim our stuff'll be there."

Theresa grinned, a bit anxious. "So, after we get our stuff, are you gonna take us to the Institute?"

Ash smiled faintly. "I don't see why not."

About an hour and a half later, they pulled up to the Institute's security checkpoint in Ash's black-and-chrome four-seater convertable. He had the top down, exposing the mainlanders to the bright Athenian sun and midday sprinkles. Both of which occured at the same time.
The armed guard checked Ash's ID and eyeballed the other three. "Who're these people?" He was a classic Trillstani, with sun-bronzed skin and black hair. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, and a microphone was barely noticeable inside his ear. Much more interesting, though, was the fact that he wore full Kevlar body armor over his torso and limbs, with a helmet protecting his head. He only seemed to be armed with a sidearm, but undoubtably there were heavier weapons over with his partner in the station.
"Theresa Wicken, Gregory Clark, and Hector Jacobs." Ash didn't make eye contact with the guard. The Trillstani considered it rude to lock eyes with someone you were unfamiliar with.
"I'll have to see some ID," the guard announced. "Government-issued IDs and passports are preferred, but student IDs will suffice for everything save where you're not supposed to go anyways."

Hector wordlessly reached into his pocket, withdrawing his passport. They had needed them to board the Whale King, and he was either smart and planned ahead, or simply too lazy to put it back in his bag. Greg and Theresa fumbled for their IDs, and while she managed to find her passport, her slightly disorganized teammate simply used his student ID, the three of them holding the cards out for the guard to check.

Theresa tapped her foot softly, a sort of nervous twitch, maybe. Spotting the guards all armored-up was a bit unnerving, but she wasn't exactly afraid. It was more like just another reality check, that somehow, she really -had- pulled it off and managed to get the job, and she wasn't just dreaming. Another grin crept to her face.

"Welcome to the Institute," the guard said. "Have an excellent day."
Ash nodded. "The same to you," he said. The gates opened, and the muscle car accelerated into the compound itself.
"The guard is in full combat gear like that in order to discourage would-be thieves," Ash explained. "There is a great deal of valuable information and material in the Institute. Only the brightest minds on Zi work here, developing new applications and refining old ones for zoid technology. They do some very exciting things in here."
As he spoke, the car wound its way through what almost seemed to be a military base. There were a number of zoid hangars and other buildings scattered about, with pairs of armed guards much like the ones in front patroling the area. Off in the distance, perched atop a seaside cliff, was the modern glass and steel building that formed the heart of the Athens Institute of Zoid Design and Technology.

Hector and Greg observed quietly, nodding every now and then to acknowledge what they were hearing, while Theresa questioned Ash, pointing to the strange looking glass and steel building on the cliff.

"What's that building over there for?"

She turned her head a bit to get a better view, squinting to try and see it better. Maybe it was just the town where they had all grown up in, but she hadn't seen many buildings of that nature before.

Ash glanced in the direction where Theresa pointed before returning his eyes to the road. The guards hated it when someone looked like a tourist. They usually flagged those people down and asked them if they needed 'assistance.' "That is the Institute's main building," he explained. "The Empire built it in NC forty-one to provide an observation post. It has since expanded with the addition of three wings and extensive renovation in NC forty-four and forty-five." The answer came mechanically, with that particular tone of someone who's repeated the same information many times beforehand.

Theresa listened intently, nodding once he had finished what sounded like a prerecorded speech that you'd hear at a museum. "Hmm. Is that where we're going now?"

She asked again, a bit tenatively. Didn't want to be obnoxious or anything, but she couldn't help but be curious and excited.

Ash smiled. It was rare to see someone quite this enthusiastic about working at the Institute. Most of the pilots who won the Cup were either cocky blow-hards who thought it was their due or veterans who thought they had seen it all. Both were usually proven wrong within a few minutes of the real tour. "Yes, and that is where you will spend most of your time working."

She grinned, her foot still tapping anxiously. Greg snickered, elbowing her side gently.

"Geez, haven't seen you so psyched for something since that concert last year."

Theresa punched his shoulder - a little less gently than his attack. He winced, still smirking. Hector rolled his eyes, peering around at the various hangars and buildings. For the first time since they had passed the guard station, he spoke up.

"So, what're the three of us gonna do as far as living arrangements are concerned?"

"Oh, I figure a box will suit you just fine." Ash chuckled as the car turned down into the underground parking lot.

Hector had meant to keep his expression surly, and perhaps make some smartass comment in return - but he held his tongue, grinning a bit despite his intentions.

"So s'pose that means the best Theresa gets with the job-deal is a box, neh? For some classy place like this, you'd think they'd at least give ya a box with a view."

Theresa and Greg just sort ot blinked at each other, rolling their eyes and stifling mocking laughs at their teammate.

Ash cocked an eyebrow. People familiar with him would have recognized that laughing gleam in his eye, though his face betrayed no mirth. "Hm, I suppose so. I assume that would be why Director Miagi asked me to clear out the spare bedrooms until the Institute can arrange something a little more permanent." He pulled into a parking garage, snagging his spot near the elevator shaft. "Alright, kiddoes. Everybody out."

Hector nodded, blinking a bit. Wouldn't it have been easier for Ash to have just said that first? Ah, well, no matter. He yawned a bit, opening the door and sliding out of the car, Greg and Theresa getting out on the other side. Theres tilted her head a bit.

"Should we bring our bags?"

Ash shook his head. "There is no need to. The entire facility is under constant surveillance, and they would only be a hindrance as we showed you around." He gestured towards a doorway marked as an elevator shaft. "Thataway."

"Alrighty."

Theresa grinned, heading in the direction Ash indicated with Hector following, Greg slamming the door shut and catching up to them.

Ash whacked Greg in the back of the knee with his cane. "Be a little nicer to that car, young man. It is worth more than most zoids."

Greg twitched, expression blanking as his knee was hit, biting his tongue to avoid growling an expletive. Instead, he just gave a brief and slightly strained reply.

"Right, sorry."

Theresa couldn't help but snicker a bit, causing a bit of an irate look from Greg and an amused one from Hector.

Ash walked to the door, swiping his cardkey ID through the recognition slot. A moment later, the elevator shaft opened up, revealing a rather sparsely-decorated elevator with a man working the control panel. He wore a uniform similar to the one the guards outside wore, save he did not have kevlar armor over the charcoal-grey jumpsuit. He wore a sidearm on his belt, but no assault rifle. Also unlike the other guard, he was clearly of Imperial descent, if his pale skin indicated anything. The Trillstani were uniformly tanned.
"Ground floor," Ash said. "The young lady is Theresa Wicken, the new test pilot. The other two are her friends."
"Everybody in?" The guard looked the three up and down, barely paying any heed to Ash.

The three shuffled into the elevator, Hector noticing the guard - sidearm and all - and shifting a bit uncomfortably. Theresa answered for them, nodding an afirmative.

"Yep, all in."

Greg couldn't help but feel a tad jealous - while it was Theresa's job, she was the only one introduced with a name, while he and Hector were just 'friends'. A petty thing, but he still took note. No matter. Not like this was his job, or anything. He simply shrugged it off.

The guard pressed a button on the control panel, and the door slid shut. The elevator rose up in the shaft, and a few moments later they were at the ground floor. "Ground floor," he announced as the door slid open.
Ash stepped out first. He emerged from the doorway into a spacious lobby with glass doors in front, leading to the outside, and tall double doors leading into the building itself. Four armed guards like those in the elevator stood at the double doors, chatting amongst themselves, whilst two marched a patrol inside the glass doors and another two marched outside the glass doors. The lobby had tiled floors with a few tables and chairs on the opposite wall from where the elevator shaft opened up, as well as potted plants surrounding each of the eight stone pillars forming double rows of four from the glass doors to the double doors, about seven feet in between each of them. Ivy climbed from the pots below up the pillars, and several of the plants were in bloom with delicate pink blossoms exotic to the mainlanders.
"As you can see," Ash said as he gestured towards the guards. "We take our security very seriously."

Greg nodded at Ash's statement as the three exited the elevator.

"Clearly. D'you really have that many threats or stuff to worry about, though? 'side from the fact I can't think of anyone in their right mind that'd try to pull anything with all the guards.."

Hector rolled his eyes. "Duh." Theresa simply grinned, looking around the lobby with a bit of a spark in her eyes.

Ash shrugged. "Ah, but it is always the unknown that catches you by surprise, no?" He gestured with his cane towards the double doors. "That way."

Theresa was the first to start heading towards the doors, followed by Hector.

"Mmhm, good point." Greg replied with a bit of a shrug as well.

Moments later, after the increasingly familiar process of checking IDs, the group was inside the Institute itself. As the doors closed behind them, Ash ushered the trio through a sort of airlock. In between bursts of some sort of whitish mist, he explained the purpose. "The area beyond this decon chamber is a clean room. We are being exposed to high doses of ultraviolet radiation and the gas is carbon dioxide. The purpose is to kill most, if not all, of the spores, viruses, and bacterium on your persons and reduce the amount of static electricity in your clothing as much as possible. This is only for touring the Institute itself, mind you. If we're in any of the really interesting facilities, you have to put on a containment suit."

The three stood in the airlock, listening as Ash explained the reasoning behind it. Theresa tilted her head. "Wow, all this for just a tour... So we don't get to go to any of the 'really interesting facilities' today, then?"

"That would be mostly correct, Miss Wicken." Ash stepped through the airlock into the spartan corridors of the Institute proper. "Mostly."