2007-03-30: Satellite Group Aka Not The Justice League


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Summary: Peter and Elle meet with Bob Bishop about their negotiations. And— oh yeah, Peter tells him he's dating his daughter. The beginnings of a satellite company begins… oh god.

Date It Happened: March 30, 2007

Satellite Group, aka. Not The Justice League

Bob Bishop's Office

Bob Bishop is at his desk with a legal pad. Alllll the problems the company is facing are listed down one side. The ones that are dealt with have little dashes off to the side and a brief series of notes about what has been done about them. The door to the conference room he's taken over is open, and he's let it be known that if Elle comes in with Petrelli they're not to be attacked and they're to be shown directly to him.

Seeing as how she knows the way to her father's office oh so well, Elle is the one leading the troop today. Wearing a business-like pantsuit, she walks next to Peter down the halls to where Bob is waiting. Before they reach his door, she says quietly, "I'm having some serious deja vu. You ready?"

A few steps behind her and to the side, Peter's dressed up as well, not quite wearing a tie, but still wearing a dark dress jacket and slacks. Tugging lightly on the cuff of his jacket when she speaks up, he glances over and inhales briefly, "Deja vu?" That— well, maybe she'll explain later. "Ready enough." There's a nervous tug on the side of his lips, before he moves to follow her inside.

Bob immediately puts his pen down and swivels in his chair to face them. He stands up and extends a hand to Peter, as if everything that's gone on before is just a business arrangement that went a little sour, and now they're going to try to patch things up. "Good evening," he tells both of them.

"Hello… Mr. Bishop." Yes, Elle was about to call him daddy. She catches herself, though, and the tone he sets with his body language and greeting. Looking aside to Peter, she settles into a chair in front of Bob's desk and sets her hands on the armrests.

Glancing sideways at Elle as she calls her father that, Peter looks back as he accepts the hand in a somewhat firm shake, "Mr. Bishop. Thank you for having us." Once he has his hand back, he returns to the fidgetting as he steps over to take a seat next to the young blonde.

Bob sits down and steeples his fingers. "I appreciate your willingness to help, and come in. I've been scouring my resources trying to find a lead to the kidnap victims, but so far I haven't turned anything up. As I think we're both in agreement about that and about stopping the disasters, is there anything you need to put up on the table, Peter?"

Elle nods to Bob and says, "I think we all realize that working together might be the only way to prevent the catastrophies." Then, without adding any more verbally, she slides a look over at Peter. It's a coercive look with only one thing to say: Speak up now or forever hold your peace. He might see it again someday.

There's a moment when it looks like Peter's about to settle into serious business talk, he suddenly stops and glances towards Elle. It's that look that makes him falter for a moment. Eyes shift away and decide to settle on something on her father's desk for a long moment. Wavering's always fun. Shifting a bit in his seat, until he's sitting straighter, he looks up and says, "Since we do agree about that much— I guess— I should say that— I'm dating your daughter." Not ashamed, by the sounds of things, but still nervous and insecure.

There's something that flickers across Bob's face that says…he did not expect that. He expected to hear a diatribe about all of his friends. He expected terms and conditions. He looks over at Elle, an eyebrow twitching, and then? He smiles. "Well. Excellent. You're a good man, Peter. I know you're treating her well and making her happy." OR ELSE. There /is/ an or else in there, as cold as Bob can seem towards his daughter sometimes. He does care about her, in his own weird way. "And knowing that, I can know that you would be on board with everything that would be best for her, don't I?"

From the slight look of surprise on Elle's face, that may not have been what she was hoping Peter would open up with. But, as it's out in the open, she goes with the flow and says, "He's been a gentleman, daddy." No need to boggle the Old Man's brain with more than that. Looking sidelong at Peter, she says, "Maybe now would be a good time to put your concerns about working with the Company on the table, Peter?" Yes yes, back to business. "Like we talked about?"

Oh, that comes next. "I just… wanted to get that part out first," Peter explains softly, looking down towards his hands again. "I do want to do what's best for her, but— right…" What they talked about. He takes a slow breath. "My friends and I need to work together without fear that… your Company… is going to take them and hold them prisoner. I understand you may only hold the dangerous ones…" Like himself as a prime example, "But I know of at least one who you'd held nearly as long as you held me, who could hardly be considered dangerous."

"May I be very frank? From the company's perspective your friends are getting a little out of control. We have god knows how many people running around, telling nearly everyone they meet that there are people out there with abilities and oh by the way there is an 'evil' — a rather one sided view as I'm sure you can agree — company 'out to get them.'" Bob looks over the edges of his squarish glasses. "Hiro Nakamura broke into our facilities once before after property belonging to the company, then led a raid to come get you. If you and Elle have truly discussed our purpose here then you will understand the reasons for our secrecy and why we do things the way that we do. So I hope when you deliver this concern you have some suggestions for how I might handle the fire that's been caused in a way that would put your conscience at greater ease."

Elle takes her father's response stoically and responds before Peter has a chance to, "Hiro Nakamura is a good man. I had the chance to meet him. That said… I think his heart gets him and others into trouble. He didn't think things through before breaking into the Company's facilities. A lot of the mistakes that have happened in the past few weeks could have been prevented by all of us being as frank as you just were," she says, looking to Bob. "If we're going to stop what's coming, the Company is going to need help. These people want to help… but they're doing it in the wrong way right now. They need to be taught how to work discreetly and cohesively."

"If I thought your company was evil, I wouldn't be here," Peter does add, glancing down even as he says it. "I agree with Elle, that we need to work together and… learn from you if we're going to make it through this, I just… find some of your methods questionable. While I think Hiro had been wrong to come in guns blazing… They had no way of knowing I had agreed to stay on my own. And Claire— what had been done to keep her here— they might have thought you did to me, too. It's what you did to her.. and anything similar in the past…" There's a flicker of a glance towards Elle, "And what your people did to Jane Forrest. I want to avoid that happening to anyone else."

Bob is nothing if not a business strategist. He quickly thinks things through and taps his pen against the legal pad a few times. "Alright," he says. "I want to talk to all of these people. Everyone who got in on this rescue deal of yours, Peter. I'm going to extend a hand and grant them an amnesty." Tap tap tap goes the pen. "I'm thinking its time to start a satellite company of Primatech Paper. Funded by us, working on certain guidelines that we hash out between us, and focused on the kinds of projects you and Hiro enjoy. Preventing disasters. I'm not going to tell you, Peter, that I will never again play hardball. I'm sorry. There are just times when it is necessary. It's no worse than what the FBI or CIA does in defense of people, and what I do is in defense of other people. But in this case, on Elle's recommendation, I'm ready to work things out."

Elle fixes the man sitting next to her with her baby blues, noting softly: "I know you want to protect those people… but I know you want to help stop those disasters too, Peter. He's offering a chance to do both." Besides that, however, she stays out of the conversation. Bob's got his Business Fu going strong.

There's a sigh and Peter runs a hand over his short cropped hair. At a time like this he wishes his brother had come along to do the negotiations. "There's a difference between playing hardball and torture, and you can't tell me there'd been a reason for what you did to Claire besides forcing her father to rejoin you when he figured out she was missing." It sounds he's unsure on all the details there. "I'm not sure I wish to become an offical organization like that, but…" Looking towards Elle briefly, he takes a slow breath and looks back towards her father, aware that she's half leaving this up to him. "I'm not sure how many of them would agree to meet with you. But before I approach the ones I do know about— still haven't met all of them— I need to know exactly what will happen to them if they do meet with you. What this amnesty means." Rules can come next.

"It means that whether or not they agree to come on board," Bob says, "I will avoid taking them in or wiping their memory," or having them killed, but he doesn't say that, "on their agreement that they will keep their mouth shut from now on. One sign of them going on about the company to someone else and the deal is off. Those who don't agree to come in forfeit the amnesty should we find them, and we are free to deal with them as needed." He's not going to talk about Claire. He's not going to get into a justification of his actions, considering that objection dealt with.

Elle falls quiet as the terms start to fly back and forth. It's business. Haggling. She looks out the window briefly before looking back between the men.

From the looks of things, Peter isn't adverse to that, except one thing. "What about the markings? I know that— I know that Isaac had them when he'd been working for you. Are you going to put those on them?" For a second he'd been going to say another name, possibly. "And if we want to bring in anyone new, to help save stop Sylar or the disaster, those I don't know of yet… they'd need to come in and talk to you, too? To recieve the same amnesty."

"They would." Bob says. "As for the markings," his mouth twists. "Its not a concern. The original purpose behind them has been rendered so useless as to be a waste of time in any event. So long as everyone abides by the terms of their individual agreements and our collective ones, I will not have a problem with them. Breach of agreement and I make no bones about the fact that I will get nasty. There are greater things at stake than individual sensations of moral outrage. You know that, or you would not be here. They need to know that too, wouldn't you agree?"

There's a nod, though it looks as if he's tempted to ask what they'd been for originally. No one had ever told him. "I agree," Peter does say after a pause. "We both want to stop what Isaac's paintings showed, your group, us… If I can insure them some protection from what they most fear— then hopefully that's enough." With a slow breath, he glances towards his hands again, fidgetting, "Guess now we need to discuss the rules. Besides not talking about your Company with people who shouldn't know… what else are you wanting?"

Bob tap tap taps the pen again. "It is not their job to go telling people about abilities," he says at last. "Or that abilities exist. Nor should they be showing off their abilities if it does not directly relate to a mission. The flow of information is utterly out of control. Nobody shall be working against this company in any way, shape, form or fashion. They will not interfere with Company actions or hinder the parent company in any way. I am willing to give the satellite company, under your guidance and leadership, a light hand, keeping my eye on it from afar. I'm not willing to let it work at cross purposes to the parent company, Primatech Paper." Bob leans forward, his lips thinning. "They are not the Scooby Do gang, they are not the Justice League. They are going to become professionals if they work with us, doesn't that make sense? And if they don't they're going to do their best to stay out of the way. Your company will have the right to deal with psychotic evolved out to hurt others, but I won't condone independents. They agree to get on board the boat or stay off the water, and I'm content to leave alone those who do not wish to join."

There's a lot there that seems to surprise Peter. Especially when the mention of /his guidance and leadership/. What??? That almost keeps him from speaking for a few seconds. "I… I agree that showing off their abilities in public should be minimized unless to protect someone, or in case of an emergency or… mission." Oh man, he's going to have to give people missions? "But I do believe there are some situations where people need to be told about who you are— what you're capable of. Or who they are, as well. Not everyone, but— some people have the right to know. Others like us, if they know of their ability already, especially. And family too…"

"You're stammering, Peter," Bob says. "It's a little hard to understand what you're getting at, when you're stammering." He sounds patient. Like a mentor. "Could you clarify your point for me?"

"I think that we should have some conditions when we can tell people about our abilities," Peter says, jaw setting afterwards, as if he's actually gaining a stubborn streak from being talked to like that. "If someone already knows what they can do, they shouldn't be left alone to figure everything out by themselves. And they could help us."

"Typically it is Primatech Paper who makes those determinations." Bob says. "Based on the person's maturity, psychological profile, level of ability, type of ability, likelihood of danger…the old 'bag and tag' philosophy, with a memory wipe, was meant to return people to their lives as best as we could after determining the best course of action and creating a means to keep tabs on them. So long as they stayed out of trouble, there was little reason to intervene."

"If this is the case, then I wouldn't be able to bring in anyone that I don't already know about," Peter says softly, trying to think of a loop hole. "And what about family and close friends that we trust? Like… someone we bring in might be married, or have older children that they'd want to talk to. I don't think people should hide what they are from people they care about."

"And where does it end, Peter?" Bob asks, leaning forward. "Mom? Dad? Sister, Brother, spouse who may or may not stay, girlfriend who may or may not stay, Aunt Barbara and Uncle Joe and cousin Jim and second cousin Doug…" He lifts an eyebrow. "Why don't we do this? We're talking a totally new direction for both of us. Lets table the discussion of revelation of powers and recruitment until we've taken a few baby steps. I don't see us coming to an agreement on this issue tonight."

"Fine," Peter says with a sign, "As long as we come back to it." Sounds like this would be something rather important to him. "What about missions? Am I— am I in charge of assigning missions to my people?" That— sounds so weird.

"Well you'll have Elle to help you, of course. But people trust you. They obviously care about you. Perhaps you can get Hiro to give us a second chance and work with you. You two do plenty of work on your own initiative. You inspire people. Why is it so hard to conceive of doing it in a more formal setting?"

"Never thought of myself as a leader, I guess. I'll take all the help I can get," Peter admits softly, glancing down towards his hands again. There are a lot of people with more experience at leading than him, after all. "Do need to know if— are these missions coming from you? All of them? Some of them?"

Bob considers this. He leans back in his chair, and it turns, creaking. Back and forth. Back and forth. "Some from me. Some you'll initiate. I expect that you and I will keep the lines of communication open. I /want/ you to exercise initiative. I want to have regular reports and the ability to provide input."

"Are weekly reports enough?" Peter asks, not seeming to mind /this/ part at all. He had been a nurse, and had to keep shift reports up to date. Sure, it's a lot more work, but he might be able to manage it. "The missions from you— from the main office. I hope it won't come up, but— Will I have the right to protest them, or… adjust the parameters, if I don't believe they fit with our purpose?"

"Weekly reports are fine. As for protest — " Bob smiles faintly. "Can I stop you? No, you'll have the right to protest. And we'll sit down like men, the way we're doing now, and hash it out. But I do reserve the right for the buck to stop with me. It has to stop somewhere. That said, I do not expect that our moral compasses will align the same."

"Fine," Peter says, though he feels as if he just gave something up, still. "Suppose that means you might do the same with missions I start…" And if the buck stops with the man in the glasses… "Guess the only request is that you keep me informed on anything at all that deals with my people." His people. Sounds /so strange/. "And what's the policy for if someone… on my team… wishes to retire?"

"Same for the ones that don't want to join. They stay out of the way, stay quiet, stay sane, and I have no problem with them." Bob leans forward. "If they do something other than this, they will be dealt with. How intensely I deal with them will depend on how good a job /you/ do at dealing with them first. I am a firm believer that words can be quite effective before other actions need be taken, coming from the right person. Keep them in line."

"Assuming we don't learn about it at the same time, would you give me a heads up if one of them acts out of line?" Peter asks, on that note. "So that I have the chance to deal with it first?" Intense measures may not be his specialty, but at least he'd know he tried to talk to them first, this way.

"Yes." Bob says, without any hesitation. "They're /your/ people. At Primatech…whatever industry you want as your cover." A pause. "Maybe, given the fact that Hiro likes to run around with swords, it should be Primatech Antiques."

"Do we really have to call ourselves 'Primatech'?" Peter asks, finding something rather amusing about this particular situation. "I'd have to discuss what kind of cover we could use. I've— well you know what fields I have training in, and I don't think any of the others I could bring in could qualify for that."

"No, not in particular," Bob muses. He supposes the children will have fun coming up with the name. Pause. Beat. "But I draw the line at 'The Mystery Machine.'" Did Bob just make a joke? "I'll have the commitment drawn up and we'll go over them together in the morning. I'm sure you'll want to discuss things with Elle," he nods to her faintly, "before agreeing to the paperwork."

That actually makes Peter laugh faintly, more of a surprised exhale. "Yeah, we'll need to talk about this," the former nurse says, glancing towards the woman sitting beside him. "And we still need to figure out how I'm allowed to recruit new people, but I'll let you propose an option. As long as I /have/ the option to recruit outside of those I already know of."

Bob taps his fingers on the table. "How about this for now. You identify a potential recruit. You bring him to my attention and we come to an agreement on him. As long as we're in agreement about new recruits and their handling, you can proceed. You agree not to proceed if I ask you not to, and I agree to consider every recruit fairly and with reason."

"All right," Peter says with a nod, finding this acceptable. Shifting to sit back up again, he glances towards his companion, before looking back towards her father. "Anything else we need to cover before we part ways to discuss things?"

"I think that's everything. I'm rather pleased." Bob smiles one of those thin smiles he sometimes gives. "I think this has been…productive." He stands up, again holding his hand out for a shake.

And when all is said and done, Peter's sure he'll hear someone say he gave up the farm, or something. But he stands up and accepts the hand for a shake. "It was nice to meet you again, Mr. Bishop. I'm sure we'll have a lot to discuss later." A glance towards the man's daughter indicates it won't all be business, but he'd already covered that part. Had to get that out of the way first, even.

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