"The tour?" Tosh cast a sour glance back at the synth who was nonchalantly stubbing out the reeking smokestik on the console.

"C'mon. Lemme show you my baby.." Karada's eyes lit up momentarily, a child ready to show off his favorite toy to someone new. Resigned, Tosh followed him, hands jammed in his pockets. He felt numb, leaden…unreal.

Part of him refused to accept it. Refused to accept the concept that he'd been decanted from a synthetic womb filled with polyamniotic gel. But it was the truth. He knew it with a sick certainty that went all the way down to his toes.

So lost in the twists of memory he was, Tosh nearly ran into Karada's back when the white-haired TA stopped suddenly. "Here we are." He practically cooed, full of pride.

Toshi looked up at the suit of crimson body armor static in a lighted suspension field. "Looks like bird boy armor" he offered weakly, watching the light ooze off the dully gleaming surface. "It was… Hotspur acquired it for me. I didn't ask how." Karada answered, absently. "But I remade it into something better.."

He turned to Tosh with a bright edge in his steel grey eyes. "Tell me.. you ever hear of the Red Impulse Squadron, Mr. Washio?"

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tosh? Hey, come on.. you're gonna be late for the study group!" Mel tapped on the door to Tosh's room. She looked at her chrono and scuffed her foot against the carpeting in the hall, some unidentifiable greyish hue. When there was no response, she frowned. Tosh wasn't the most punctual, but he was consistent, and reliable.

Mel pounded the door, then, for several minutes before giving up and trying a different tack. "big dumb stupid cro-mag.. you better not have gotten yourself into any trouble." She muttered, fishing through her backpack for her wallet. Mel looked up and down the hallway a few times, then crouched in front of the door, jamming her laminated Hayashiland frequent buyer's card in between the jamb and the lock until she was able to jimmie it open.

The door to the room swung open, and Mel straightened. A quick glance around indicated his things were still there.. and a feeling of relief washed over her, making her knees suddenly weak.

"…and just who might you be?" The voice, so much like Tosh's made her wheel around with a shriek. The face was nearly the same too, but the scarlet hair was replaced with dark chocolate, and the good humor so evident in his bright blue eyes was conspicuously missing.

Mel swallowed and regained a little of her composure. "I could ask you the same thing, pal." She frowned, tossing her hair back, the laminates giving it a pink glow in the hall lighting.

"That's easy. I'm Makoto.. I'm looking for my cousin….."

~~~~~~~~~~~

"R..red Impulse?" Tosh frowned. "Well, smeg.... they worked with the original Gatchaman team..like.. sidekicks or something." Karada frowned in response, a chilly rime coating his next words.

"Wrong." Karada swatted him like he would an unruly student. "Red Impulse had been the first line of defense against Galactor.. long before the Science Ninja team came on the scene." He sniffed. "They were led by a man named Washio. Kentaro Washio."

Tosh's eyes widened. "You mean…" Karada just nodded. "The same. He was a great hero. A brave soul.."

"An asshole. But he got the job done." Hotspur's voice ground behind them as the synth wandered into the chamber. "He knew when the bird kids were out of line. Knew when to try and rein 'em in."

Karada made a face at the synthetic, then continued on. "The Red Impulse armor was a precursor of the G-style units. Kentaro Washio was the first to test out the RI armor in the field, as a matter of fact." He turned, unable to hide the smug little look that crept across his face. "It wasn't difficult to find those old specifications in the ISO archive banks… or the current G-style ones for that matter."

Karada deflated visibly when Tosh shrugged. "so, you hacked the ISO frame using your old man's codes?" It came out nastier than he'd meant it to. Karada froze over again. "Something like that."

"What Gabe here did was use those specs to modify this enforcer armor into something the right person could use to take on Gatchaman." Hotspur perched the mirrorshades on the top of his head, garnet eyes looking up at the suit, but focused somewhere else. "In the last days of the Galactor War, there was a piece of tech used called the hypersuit.. It was untested, dangerous.. and it's overuse would've sent Ken Washio to an early and basically unpleasant grave if it hadn't been for…other events." Hotspur's voice grated noncommittally as he walked around the suit, seemingly oblivious to the blanching of Tosh's face. "The current G-style uses an improved version of the hypersuit technology to boost your…"cousin's" abilities tenfold. It's keyed specifically to his genecode."

Hotspur paused, the ember eyes fixing on Tosh's blue ones. "The same genecode you possess, Washio."

Tosh stared at him, aghast for a moment, the complete unreality of the situation sucking him under. Karada and Hotspur watched him with interest as he sat on the floor, heavily and gracelessly. "There's no time to play around, Washio. We have a lot to do.." Karada said softly.

"Everything I know is a lie…" he whispered, staring at the pitted concrete floor. "first you tell me that I..was made.." that word tasted bitter in his mouth. "to be some kind of …replacement… for Gatchaman.. the next thing you want..me.. to be your little tool in some grudge against the bird boys?" Tosh studied his hands for a few moments, watching the tendons move has he flexed his fingers. "You lay all this smeg on me, and what.. just expect me to be your good little doggie?" His voice broke a little, a moment of hysteria catching in it. "is that it??"

Hotspur looked down at him, a faint look of disgust crossing the carefully sculpted features. "The freedom and peace Ken and the others fought so long for isn't here, Toshi… Freedom's an illusion and the peace is enforced by fear. People are becoming sheep.. fat and content.. while the IEC and the ISO play god. That's not what the Science Ninja Team stood for." Hotspur's black-gloved hands grabbed a handful of Tosh's jersey and dragged him to his feet. "Rui Washio was killed in a terrorist attack on the lab in the Nederlands where you were.. born. They weren't ready to wake up you or Yohji when it went down. That's why your memories are all scrambled. Out of the remaining Series 3.0, you're all that's left. Rui was killed outright.. Yohji was so badly damaged in his womb that they pulled the plug on him.

"They said my parents were killed in a plane crash in the Nederlands.. that I was the only survivor.. that I'd been sent to Utoland to recover thanks to the ISO.." Tosh's voice was weak as Hotspur shook him. "There was never any plane.. you know that….. and the terrorist attack never made the newsfeeds because the ISO doesn't want people to know that there's still danger in the world." Hotspur glared at him. "Goddamnit, boy, we need to wake up the world.. and we need you to do it."

"Leave me alone. I don't want to know any more. I want to go back to my room." He said numbly. There was a sudden blur of motion, a sudden snap of pain and he was on the floor, his face throbbing like he'd been hit by a two-by-four. Karada was staring, stunned at Hotspur, whose open hand was still upraised. "You don't have time to be a self-indulgent baby, Washio. Or did you forget about your friend.. and the others facing the same fate as him?" The synthetic sneered faintly at him.

Tosh touched the side of his face, the shriveling cold inside of him replaced by a burn.. a boiling anger. "You.. self..righteous smeg-sucking son of a bitch!" The words were a growl as he launched himself at the synthetic, toppling them both over, crashing into the cabling and circuit boxes that littered the area.

"Ghoddamnit, Hotspur! Watch the la…!!" Karada shouted as the synthetic used Tosh's momentum to throw him tumbling across the floor. His words trailed off as he watched the redhead find his feet with a sudden and surprising grace, even as Hotspur righted himself. "C'mon, baby eagle. You wanna hit me? Come on, then…" Hotspur beckoned him. "Try."

There was a rapid succession of movement, the combat falling into a dance-like rhythm where both partners knew the moves like old friends, ending with abrupt violence as Tosh spun, the heel of his foot connecting with Hotspur's head, shattering the mirrorshades, and staggering the synthetic back.

Tosh stopped, panting and wide-eyed, watching the tall synth wipe a rivulet of greenish ichor from the corner of his mouth, and …… laugh.

"That's the way to do it, Washio. That's the stuff.."

~~~~

"Your.. cousin?" Mel blinked (Twin is more like it) as she digested his appearance. "I.. I'm Mel.. Tosh's a..a friend of mine.." she felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny of that at once familiar and strange blue-eyed gaze. "He…was.. supposed to go to a study group with me tonight…" Unconsciously, Mel backed up a step into Tosh's room.

Makoto lifted his chin a little, eyes flicking over the neat little room. "And he's not here." He nodded to himself, and gave Mel a chilly smile. "Could you call me if he shows back up? I really need to see him.. I've been worried about Toshi."

Mel smiled uneasily in return. "Oh, sure, yeah." (yeah. Right). She backed up another step, and he followed her in. "Nothing to be worried about, though.. he's fine.. fine…"

"But he's not here.. and he should be here, shouldn't he, Mel?" He tilted his head a little and she shivered as he overemphasized her name. His little motions, his movements, all belonged to Tosh, but that lacked any reassurance. The warmth of his personality, his smile were replaced with something chilly and rigid, and it sent a creeping sensation up Mel's spine "Oh, he's probably chugging some brewz with his teammates…he can be a real cro-mag sometimes…" she added weakly, realizing the mistake as a frightening light sparked behind the wide sapphire eyes.

"Oh, I doubt that very much."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Take off your clothes."

"What?" Tosh shook his head and looked at the synthetic in disbelief.

"Take them off. Gabriel needs to key the armor to something you wear." Hotspur tapped his foot impatiently, looking over the disheveled young man in front of him. Karada made a snort in the background as he busied himself with cleaning up the mess the brief tussle had left.

Tosh blinked at them. "Who said I'm going to wear your armor?" he said indignantly. "When did THAT decision get made??" He took a deep breath, shaking, trying hard not to think about how easy it had been, or how good it had felt to go after Hotspur like that.

"It got made when you were able to hit me, baby eagle." Hotspur ruffled Tosh's scarlet hair affectionately. Tosh swatted at him irritably. "Stop calling me that. Fine. Ok. I'll wear the stupid suit." He peeled out of his jersey, awkward and self conscious. "now, are you going to stop yanking me around and tell me what happened with Ferdy and the other kids?"

Tosh took a deep breath. He needed to focus on something he could deal with, and the concept of being a …a.. clone was so far outside of what he could handle at the moment, he simply put it aside. He handed the jersey and his pants over to the exasperated-looking Karada, and shifted from foot to foot nervous and cold. "Well?"

Hotspur shucked his own coat and tossed it to the boy. "Familiar with the UN Youth Services Division office downtown?" Tosh caught it, and draped it over himself. It reeked of patchouli and some peculiar artificial smell… synth smell. He made a small face and shook his head. "I mean, I've heard of it. I've never been there, or anything…"

"It's where you get sent when you're not a good little citizen.. where you… learn to be a good little citizen…" The synthetic's odd emphasis on "learn" sent a quaver down Tosh's spine.

"How … do you know all this? You're just a …" He trailed off, suddenly feeling embarrassed at the stern look on the synth's elegant face. "..I'm just a synthetic. I know kid. You could say I've been around the block a couple of times." Came the grating reply. "I've got my sources."

"Sorry.." Tosh looked down at his feet for a moment, then back at Hotspur, and beyond him, to Karada, who was running his clothes through something that looked like a cross between a vend-o-snak kiosk and a washing machine. "Ok, then. What do you want me to do?"

"Consider it a little trial run.. get in.. mix it up with some enforcers.. get the kids out of there… get yourself out. I'll handle the rest."

Tosh nodded, shaking the black gloved hand, unable to shake the feeling that he'd just made a deal with a very peculiar devil.

"I hate to break up the feelgood moment that you two are experiencing, but I'm finished. Here's your ensemble, Washio." Karada sniffed, handing over the brightly colored jersey and pants to him.

They had a strange feel to them, and Tosh held them gingerly. "They're slimy." He wrinkled his nose in distaste. The corners of the synthetic's mouth twitched slightly in an attempt not to smile as Karada gave a huff of exasperation. "It's not slimy. It's a sub-molecular quantum field phase generating nanocyte generated coat…..ing…." he trailed off, looking at the utterly blank expression on the redhead's face. "……..it'll stop feeling slimy in a few minutes. Just get dressed." Tosh quirked an eyebrow at him. "aye-aye Mr. Wizard." There was a cough from the synthetic that sounded suspiciously like a suppressed chortle, and Tosh gave him a virulent glare.

He felt oddly better, though, as he put on his alien-feeling clothing, and glanced up at the other two. "Why are you doing this?" Karada opened his mouth, but the synthetic held up a long-fingered, black gloved hand. "Because it needs doing." He said simply in his grating voice.

There was a look on his face that Tosh could never remember seeing on anyone before, let alone a synthetic. He wouldn't have been able to describe it, except that it made him feel very small and uncomfortable. It was also intensely clear how much Hotspur believed in it. The sudden thought that the synth was just malfunctioning or crazy, and persuasive enough to get Karada.. and him… to go along with his delusions, crossed his mind, but quickly pushed off to the side. He couldn't explain it, other than..

Other than that he trusted him.

"Here." Karada's cool voice snapped him back to the current situation, and Tosh looked down at what looked like a chrono in his hand. "What's this?" He picked it up. Thankfully, it wasn't slimy like his clothes.

"It's the trigger for the transmutation sequencer.." Karada brightened up a little again, obviously happy to be explaining something. "put it on, so the contacts in the back can read your genecode, and…" he waited patiently for Tosh to strap it on. "this is my favorite part…. Bring up your arm… and say.. 'Red Go'" He grinned widely for a second, a strange expression on his normally reserved face, as though he were enjoying some sort of private joke.

Tosh looked at him incredulously. "Right. Ok…" He felt incredibly silly, but he did as Karada said. Nothing could surprise him anymore today after the shocks his system had taken. "..er..Red..Go?"

There was a brief moment where nothing seemed to happen, and he felt stupider. Then there was a bright light in his eyes, a rushing sound all around him, and the singularly unpleasant moment of feeling as though he were covered in bugs. It was over as quickly as it started, and he stood there, for a moment. He felt stiff and awkward. His head felt heavy, and it took a second to realize he had a helmet on. "What the smeg?"

They were looking at him, Hotspur and Karada, surprised. "Holy Shit, Gabe.. it actually worked.." The synth took a long drag on his smokestik as the scientist glared at him. "Of course it did!" Tosh frowned. Their voices were clearer than if he hadn't had the big heavy thing on his head, with a visor, suddenly bringing displays up, targeting sensors sliding across his field of vision. Hotspur gently guided him towards a shiny surface.

"Tosh.. meet the new Red Impulse…" He said good naturedly.