Ah, deja vu. Or not even even particularly deja-ish vu, since they /were/ here before, with Illyana standing up at the front. She's dressed up, even to the point of a light jacket, and her hair is clipped back at the nape of her neck rather than braided. She may look slightly less nervous this time, but almost might be an illusion, because she's looking down and reading as everyone files in. Has everyone done the reading before class? There'll be a quiz!

Kitty's awesome at quizzes. Don't let the seat in the back of the classroom fool you. She might be cheating, though, since she has all of the reports pulled up on her laptop for easy reference. The laptop is chilling in (surprisingly enough) her lap, and her legs are tucked under her. She hasn't dressed up. Just jeans and a t-shirt here.

Ashleigh is, fortunately, a jeans and t-shirt type, as well. Her seat is closer to the middle - both front to back and left to right. She actually has a notepad this time, and a pen. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, and she idly bounces her pen between two fingers, teeth biting her bottom lip almost absently.

Jess saunters in, her boots scuffing softly upon the ground as she takes a seat towards the middle of the room. Her hair is loose down her back, and her sunglasses, perched atop her head, keep it from her face. Tattered jeans and a tank cover her form as she leans back in her chair, her notepad and notes before her on the table surface.

Kelsey has learned since the last briefing. She's dressed down this time, nice jeans and a shirt. Lacking Kitty's eternal laptop, she has instead brought her physical copies of the reports in case she needs to check anything. The same notebook from last time is also present, and she's currently chewing on the end of the pen cap. Her seat is a few rows back from the front, slightly towards the right.

The back of the classroom is habitually where Remy LeBeau was to be found when he was in actual classrooms. He's somewhere vaguely middle-ish now. That he also looks like he was napping for a while before the presentation does not diminish that he is totally alert and attentive now. Really! With a yawn muffled behind one hand, he pokes and prods a PDA to life.

Bahir is dressed in clothes. A+. Seated smack in the middle, he is fiddling with something on his phone. Possibly Tetris. Maybe Puzzle Quest. Sunglasses on his nose despite the fact he is inside, he is completely paying attention.

Percy is nattily dressed in crisp, tailored grey and white, but the pose he has adopted suggests less crispness; he waggles a pen back and forth between his fingertips, slouched in his seat with both feet slung over the back of the seat ahead of him. There's a pad in his lap, with a few scrawled notes in some language or other, and his glasses are perched on his nose. He looks ... about as attentive as this pose might suggest.

Quick, everyone, into the middle. Dog pile there.

Tom is sitting in the front row with his arms folded over his knees, leaning into the brace of his elbows. He watches Illyana with narrowed green eyes. He is not taking any notes.

Casual seems to be the flavor of the evening and Alex sits near the front in a comfortable button up and a loose pair of jeans. Pen and notebook in lap, he seems generally attentive, if a little tired.

Also sitting somewhere close to the center is Amber in the themed jeans and t-shirt that others are sporting. No laptop rests in front of her, replaced instead with a pen and pad. Bring it on.
Since Tom is in the front row, it's a little hard to notice him, and that, at least, is well within Illyana's confidence. She narrow-eyes right back at him briefly before she turns her attention to the dog pile of the middle and speaks when enough of them have looked up to give her at least a semblance of silence. "So. We have confirmation of at least most of what is being done, but not where, or by who. All we have at the moment is an email address, taken from Senator Ashlock. Are there any questions about what we do know, before we turn to figuring out what we do to find out what we don't?"

"Could go f'a little refresher on Team Peru's results," Remy allows, with a stretch in place that results in him slouching further into his seat, long legs poking out beneath the row of seats in front of him. "The cloned bodies part. We got any more little details on that that weren't in the reports?"

"DNA matches," Kitty confirms after pulling up the report. "Cindy Ashlock's hair matches DNA entered in hospital records before her sudden cure." She clicks a few things to get back to what she was looking at before.

"Which begs the question, how in hell are they getting these clones to the right ages?" wonders Pete from somewhere near the back of the room. As this sums up most of his layman's understanding of how cloning operates - aka, not at the speed of light, despite what the media might want to say to the contrary - he says nothing further.

Kelsey removes the pen from her mouth thoughtfully. "Obviously we ken we're dealin' with a teep in regards tae the whole...switchin' minds part. What if there's a mutant who's power is related to aging cells, speeding up development?" A hand waves lazily in a visual 'etc., etc.' gesture.

Bahir's expression darkens and he gives a muttered, "Not necessarily," as he looks over at Kelsey. It isn't the most audible, but he doesn't go out of his way to be quiet about it. He looks thoughtful at her second question, without the TP defensiveness. He does not, however, volunteer an idea.

"That's one of the points they highlighted," Illyana says, nodding to Pete. "And a mutation seems at least one possibility." Her eyes sweep the audience for someone more likely to be able to answer the question than her, no research scientist as she is. "Bahir? Is that possible?" Since he was speaking up.

"There other ways o' makin' the switch?" Remy wonders, stylus describing lines and loops as he jots down notes to himself.

Will walks into the room and holds the door open for Parker who gives a quiet thanks. Will moves toward a chair and takes a seat, doing his best to not cause a disturbance.
Parker enters and also moves toward a chair, but not before giving a careful look toward everyone in the room. Wow, secret agents! And technology! His amazement pacifies other curiosities he might have.

Bahir startles a little at the address and looks around, as if to see if there is someone named Bahir sitting behind him that Illyana might be referring to. Strangely, there isn't, and his answer is a fair part 'kid not paying attention' as he begins, "What? Aging cells? Speeding up development? I don't see why not. I mean. We know aging is easily retarded with a healing factor, and we've seen ourselves one way that aging can be accelerated." He eyes Tom, mostly, but he arches his eyebrows at Illyana, as well. To Remy, he adds, "Doesn't necessarily have to be a real /telepath/. /Jeff/ wasn't. Not really." Semantics? Yes.

"Hey!" Amadeus suddenly bursts into the room when he realizes that A. He's late, and B. They're talking about his mission! "Clone bodies," he says inbetween pants. "They're grown in tubes!"
Ashleigh startles. Up until this point, she'd been sitting quietly, simply listening as the ideas are passed back and forth around her. With Amadeus' noisy entrance, however, she glances toward him, bites her bottom lip, then looks back toward Illyana, wincing faintly.

Tom scrubs a hand at the back of his neck, although if he can feel Bahir's eyes on him, it is probably not with his telepathy; his mind is solidly shielded for the moment, his expression tuned a little darker and more broody.

Pete jerks around to eye Amadeus as he bursts in. There is a mutter, pitched too low to carry far, of, "I wonder if they're kind enough to clone /parts/ as well..."

Ashleigh isn't the only one startled by Amadeus's enterance. Jess jumps a bit as he bursts through the door, a smirk tugging at her lips. She shifts in her chair as she watches him take a seat, her attention then returning to Illyana and the other agents.

"That means more than one mutant, doesn't it?" Illyana asks, giving Amadeus an acid glare, and then pushing the conversation back onto it's track. "Something like healing factor /and/ something like telepathy?" Her eyes scan everyone for her answer again.

Amadeus receives no look of surprise or scorn from Alex. Only a lazy nod before the young man turns back and resumes jotting some of the disorganized details down. He has nothing to add, so he listens.

"Or a very powerful mutant, that can do both," Kitty suggests with a shrug, not sounding very sure about it.

"And a telepath puts the minds into bodies, but no one gets to meet the guy." Amadeus holds up a piece of paper with a name on it. "And I got this Ashlock guy's name. Lopez said he's a middleman, but all the other middlemen go through him. And I gotta tell you, this guy was a hard sell. I mean, this guy had like a silver tongue, but I had to use my years of experience..."

"Barring a few very strange and secret scientific breakthroughs," Percy says, still waggling his pen. He hasn't actually written much down since the briefing actually began.

Parker perks up, "From what I've read, cloning technology isn't really advanced enough to rapidly age cells. It would take a lot of energy to clone and age cells, too. A /massive/ power grid." He looks around, a little lost. "I'm Peter, by the way," he adds quietly afterward.

"Knew there was gonna be tubes -somewhere-," Remy reflects, but quietly. "Unless there's maybe some sort o' biotech solution?" he counter-suggests, with a glance Bahir-wards.

"Could be healing." Amadeus speaks up again, taking a seat at the back of the class near Remy. "Kaci can age people, she just doesn't have a lot of practice with it."

"Is there any way to tell mutation or technology without actually getting to the lab?" Illyana puts in, tapping fingers against the edge of the podium, then stilling again.

"Check the electricity bill?" Parker suggests.

"How big a power grid?" Alex asks of Parker, lifting pen from paper and glancing towards the new arrival with a small smile. "If the operation is lucrative enough, maybe they could bribe some department of energy officials to look the other way in a second or third world country?"

"Well, like, huge. Big as this place's, I'd bet. It would eat energy like... well, like something big and fat," Parker adds.

Bahir gives Remy a slight shake of his head, a frown etched on his features from Amadeus's repetition of telepath. "Not without getting -- actually," he says, and breaks off. "We could pull Cindy's medical records and see if there was anything done after her miracle cure. Blood work, MRIs, everything. It's a place to start. Having her would be more useful." But they make do.

"Why'd it need a big power grid?" Remy wonders, with a hand lifting to rake through his hair. "I mean, not that trackin' weird power spikes ain't a good idea, but why'd it be drawin' a lot of juice? You got mutants, y'could just have a back room off an alley somewhere just as easy."

"Mutants aren't the only solution though. I'm not saying it's wrong, just. We shouldn't discount more conventional unconventional methods." Alex muses, flipping the pen in his hand to tap against the notebook. He shrugs to Remy and smiles weakly. He's just bouncing ideas.
Amadeus raises his hand before speaking. "What if they're cloning a mutant that grows super fast and stops at a certain age?"

"DNA," Kitty repeats with a shrug. "I collected a sample off Cindy Ashlock."

"What if it isn't any sort of mutation? What if it's just genetic manipulation by gene splicing or something?" Jess wonders, thinking that maybe this could be a sort of mad scientist type of deal.

"Well, it'd be a good way to tell if they're using technology or mutation. Anyway, cloning in /tubes/ would mean an external womb, outside of a host body. To simulate a womb would be like... well... really hard. And you'd have all sorts of fail safes in case power went down, etc." Parker glances over toward Amadeus. "That could work. I don't know much about the X gene, though. Can it really be cloned that specifically?"

"They aren't all the same age, either," Pete puts in. "So whatever process they're using, mutational or otherwise, it can't be one that stops at a fixed point."

Will listens to the discourse with a mild frown. He begins to tap his fingers, letting his attention drift from person to person as they make their various comments.

Ashleigh sucks in a very deep breath, then finally offers toward the group, "Whether they're using technology or mutation... they still would have to keep these clones alive somehow. So no matter the actual method of the cloning, there would be a lot of power used. But there's no way to determine where that power could be coming from. For all we know, they could be off on some windy island, and using a huge amount of windmills to do what they need to do."

"Various types of diseases and disorders that cause accelerated aging also have some pretty serious side-effects," Bahir says, not looking up with his eyes on the screen. "And we don't see results like /this/. I still think mutation: either time-acceleration or healing."

Amber remains compltely silent, figuring she doesn't have enough experience to throw her two cents in. She does however take a lot of notes, writing down everything.

Illyana presses her lips together slightly. The scientific arguments look like they're makign her head swim a little.. "Speculation is only useful to a point. We need to /find/ these people. Back up to looking for power spikes? What would we look for if it's a mutant?"

"We have the email address," Bahir points out, glancing up. "Why don't we follow /that/? I don't know if there's anything to look for if it is a mutant, given that it could be one of a handful of mutations."

"Or someone can volunteer for the project. I don't know how else we'd find them, since there are /tons/ of places that use a lot of electricity," Kitty echoes Bahir's statement, almost. Hey, bad idea, anyone?

"If we have a location, I'll just go as a freakin' cat. It's not hard." Amadeus throws out there while idly tapping the desk. "Or I can volunteer, whatever works, I don't care."

"What about a plant?" Remy wonders, on the heels of Kitty's bringing up the bad idea. "Make contact with the email that we got," he ticks off with a wave of his stylus and a nod to Bahir, "Posin' as someone lookin' f'their services."

"Maybe we can hack the email address and see if it has an IP record or something," Tom says. He cradles his cheeks in both hands, propped up on his elbows, and studies the floor with his brow creased in a frown.

"I don't think we want to send anyone into the lion's den unless we have to," Pete says, eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "Considering what happened /last/ time we ran up against something that could fuck with people's minds to any great degree..."

"Doc, can you forward the address to me? I can see what I can do, but if they're at all smart, I probably won't find anything," Kitty offers with a smile towards Tom. << Smart idea. >> she tries to project to him, though he probably has his shields up.

Back to the telepaths, Bahir first, but then Illyana makes herself address the question to Tom, since it more directly concerns him. "Do we have any idea what this telepath can do? The report said inexperienced...?"

Bahir frowns. FROWN. T-word.

"I don't know," Tom says testily. He is shielded, so he is not aware of Kitty's appreciation of his awesome. How sad. "Maybe not. Could have just been lazy, self-trained." He rolls a look back at Bahir, twisting in his seat with his dark eyebrows pushed up. "Or like Bahir said it doesn't even have to be a telepath. Maybe it can't clean up after itself."

"Some sort o... mind-transferrin' machine?" Remy sounds dubious at this suggestion, but doesn't come up with any reason there -can't- be one. He makes an irritable noise over the whole thing, and styluses a few more notes into his PDA. "Well, if we can mock out what'd go into makin' one, we could maybe hunt f'parts suppliers."

"How can a shitty telepathy accomplish such a mind fuck?" Will asks, shaking his head. "Can either of you do this?" Will asks, looking between Tom and Bahir.

"Are they lazy and self-trained enough to make it worth the risk to the plant, is the question," Illyana sharpens her words, for Tom.

"Sorry to backtrack a wee bit, but...surely with the resources of all the other agencies, there must be some further information we can get from that e-mail address, even if Kitty doesnae have any luck with it," Kelsey notes, brushing some stray locks of hair back.

"No," Bahir says, flat, as he gives Will a short shake of his head.

"Then how the fuck can this motherfucker do it? He's either like that dick in Colorado or he has a specificied mutation like Jeff," Will concludes. "Either way, I'm not sure how he can be untrained. This sounds like complicated shit."

"No," Tom echoes Bahir to Will, scratching at the back of his head. He still really needs a haircut, in case anyone is keeping track. "And, no," he adds to Illyana, "not if you ask me, which is why I suggested we do something /other/ than the plant idea with the email address."
Bahir very nearly /smiles/ at Will. He gets it. HE GETS IT.

"It /is/ a telepath, unless Lopez was lying out of his ass." Amadeus repeats with an exasperated sigh.

"Could either of those two experts brought in to help clean up the mess in Colorado do it?" Pete asks, glancing towards Bahir. "How likely /is/ it that we're dealing with a proper telepath, rather than something a little more specific?"

Her eyebrows furrowing, Ashleigh takes a glance back toward Will before settling her attention forward to Illyana again - apparently satisfied to focus there, though her eyes squint a little, head tilting as she listens to the others surrounding.

"No," Bahir says again, lifting his eyes to Pete. "Not on their own."

"How the hell else are we going to find them, if not a plant?" Kitty throws out, sighing in frustration at the lack of information. "At least keep up the idea until they give us a location to meet them at. Don't show up, but follow them from there?" More bad ideas, hey, look.
Will leans back and rubs his brow. "Fucking telepaths," he says. "No offense. I think the two of you are stand up gents, but... come on... not this shit again," he concludes, speaking directly between Bahir and Tom.

Bahir shrugs. He can't argue.

"Maybe Lopez is a fucking dumbass," Tom growls. He leans back in his seat, and looks at the ceiling.

"As for the tracing down bit: let's get one of us to send them an email and wait for contact information. We have people that can triangulate cellphone coordinates, and we can track IP addresses if we hack whatever email-host site they use. We just have to be prepared when they contact the inquirer," Will supplies.

"Or just misinformed... but even if we don't send in a plant, I thinkin' that email address is the best lead forward we got. That, an' maybe trackin' the Ashlocks movements. Trips out o' country, that sort o' thing, or if there ain't any, maybe we lookin' at domestic."
SAYS REMY.

"We know they're using a clinic of some sort, or claiming to use one - Glazkov transferred his records there before he went off to be resurrected," Pete points out. His fingertips drum a brief tattoo on the arm of his chair. "Someone's got to know where /that/ facility is. If not Ashlock, then Glazkov, or one of their other recipients."

"Following the email is obviously the best plan," Illyana says, falling back into observe and record mode. "The difference seems to be in how. Contacting them or not, if we can't get a location from the address alone."

Will nods toward Remy and Pete. "Unless the information was removed from their memories. We could also try and use Aletheia's mutation."

"Not necessarily," Bahir says, speaking up again. "There wasn't much from Ashlock about the location. They went to some length to keep it hidden from him. It might be true of the others."
"Assuming we collect the location from whatever source, what then?" Percy's tone is a little dry. "If we follow the plant pathway, so to speak, it would come with a free opportunity of infiltration on the side. I am a believer in caution, but in the cost-benefit analysis, we might just be burning our time and resources."

"Do we have any volunteers?" Illyana asks, with a slightly wry smile. "If the plant was only to find the location, not go inside--"

Amadeus raises his hand. "I'll go as a person or a cat, which ever."

Jess gives a shrug. "I'd could do it," she replies softly.

Pressing her lips together, Ashleigh raises her hand, though unlike the others, she does not vocalize her own volunteering.

"Yeah, not sure," Will replies. "Take out the telepath first this time, though, would be my recommendation," he says, for Percy's benefit. For Illyana, he says, "I'm not rich or suave enough. I'd recommend someone who can pull off that big business aristocratic bullshit."

Amber perks a brow at that and finally raises a hand. "I don't have as much experience as a lot of people here. But I'd be willing to be bait if need be." Buuut, it looks like there are plenty of others who might be able to pull it off better.

Alex can't do that. A collection of glances scan the room with the rythmic tappity tapping of his notepad.

"Y'need me, y'got me," Remy offers, with a hitch of a shoulder. "But I do gotta say, Drake, we also got options f'influential criminal types... an' hella agreed on dealin' with TPs first if we can."

"We should send someone with a bit more experience," Kitty suggests, looking a bit worried. "Preferably someone who could get away in case things go bad." Then she falls silent.

Percy tips his head slightly to one side, and then glances at his nails, fighting a smile. Despite Will's recommendation, he does not add his voice to the list of volunteers.

Wade steps out from a stealthy shadow. Was he always there? It's hard to say, but his arms are dramatically crossed, and he raises a finger to say in an incredibly dramatic and deadpan fashion, "I'll do it."

"Someone who doesn't hurt themselves in bar fights," Kitty mumbles to herself, glancing at Wade.
She has so many ideas about who should go, doesn't she?

"Or someone who can look deathly sick," Illyana reminds everyone. She makes notes of the volunteers.

"Oh, yeah, crime," Will replies. "I forgot these fuckers were dirty. Haha." Will continues to look around at people who volunteer.

"I'd be willing," Pete says, in spite of the earlier arguments against the strategy. "It wouldn't be the first time I've done something similar, excepting the Body Snatchers angle - though I'd still vote for looking into other options first."

"I dinnae mean tae volunteer anyone, but...if the influence of another telepath--or someone with related powers--is of concern, would it make sense tae send another telepath?" Kelsey shifts in her seat. "Otherwise, aye, I'll volunteer, though I think ye might have better candidates."

Wade protests a bit louder, "I'm an infiltration specialist! I can get in there, kill twenty men, set up explosives, order pizza, then exit just as the explosions and pieces of glass are flying over my head, like in a Michael Bay movie."

"'Cause what we need right now is explosives," Jess mumbles under her breath as she doodles idly on her notepad.

"We're not setting off explosives, as far as I know. We're going under cover. Can you pull that off?" Kitty questions, louder for his benefit. It is a completely valid question.

Silent through most of the briefing, Christoph's frozen eyes glide across the room and settle on Illyana. "This telepath is unskilled but may possess a great deal of power, yes? Is it required alive?" He asks, tearing his eyes away to regard the rest of the room.

Will looks at Wade like he's a fucking psycho. "If you're captured, I don't want clones of you running around." He laughs. "As funny as that would be." His expression tightens. "Anyway, another telepath would be a good idea."

Pete looks over at Wade speculatively. "He certainly could fake a brain tumor, if we set up /dementia/ as one of his symptoms..."

"I've learned," Ashleigh comments quietly toward Illyana, "That with makeup... you can make someone look just about like anything. I imagine sick is no different."

"Of course I can." Wade confidently says with a thumbs up. "I can make us all look like zombies if you want, or if you're going for a /really/ sickly look, Michael Jackson."

Illyana looks lost and nervous as to how to deal with Wade, so she just ignores him entirely. Sorry, Wade. "Or more than one person? Concerned family?" She turns her gaze to Christoph. "Management didn't specify, but I imagine that we want him alive unles he's directly threatening someone."

"Oh, I'm sure they'll completely believe that," Kitty responds back, a quirk of an eyebrow at Wade. "I'd volunter myself, but it seems we already have enough qualified individuals."

"Oh, snap," says Remy, with an amused snort. "Could be handy, Bottle Boy. Might want t'stay away from actually fakin' sick with makeup, though, just in case they got a healer or somethin' that could call us on the bullshit."

Tom folds his arms over his head and looks slightly sour. He intones, "Maybe they do sex change operations."

The mild tensing of muscles along Christoph's chin could very easily be irritation or consideration. Being the mandroid that he is, precious other indicators are provided. "I understand." He says, raising an arm to rub at the back of his neck with thought.

Illyana nods to Remy. "Good point. I guess that leaves us with pretending to be criminals? Since none of us seem old enough otherwise..." She gives Tom a narrow look. "You want to come along, as the telepath?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Tom does not remove the fold of his arms from his head. "If it can sense other telepaths, having me along might be kind of stupid."

"Might as well pacify the targets," Will says, shrugging toward Christoph. "Prisoners are usually prized over corpses, especially if it means scientific study. Personally, I'd like to know how so many goddamn telepaths keep popping up."

"Criminals also has the advantage o' explainin' why we so very off the radar," Remy reflects, tracing his thumb along the line of his jaw thoughtfully, before a crooked grin blossoms. "Shame we can't just say we foreign intelligence agents lookin' f'new identities... but crooks is versatile. Y'lookin' at drugs, guns or white collar shit, gettin' this much money together, though. Organized."

Percy makes a mafia joke. In Russian. There are a few people in here who can understand that, you know.

Illyana is one of the ones who can, and she's startled into a laugh. "What about the team to track them? Provide back-up if necessary?"

"It is a particularly effective ability against most people." Christoph says, raising a finger to trace along the stubble of his chin. Eyes dart towards Percy at his joke then slip back to Illyana.
"I can assist that team." He adds.

"I'll be on whichever team I'd be most useful." Ashleigh finally speaks again! Her arms cross lightly over her chest - notepad slipped onto the edge of the table, and her pen still pinched between two fingers.

"I'd feel more comfortable on an evac team," Will chimes in, after Christoph.

The Russian is all Greek to Remy, and so he settles a little deeper in his seat, somehow finding the added slouch-capacity, and shifts so that he's got his feet pressed against the back of the chair in front of him. "Backup," Remy muses. "Remote monitorin'."

Or rather, it's Russian and not Greek. Kitty frowns at it, trying to figure it out. Unforunately, it's too fast and complicated for her. "Is that the plan then?" she tries to confirm.

Before answering Kitty, Illyana tries to catch everyone's eyes one by one. "Any objections? Further improvements? Do all the volunteers to be the plant feel they can pull off a criminal cover?"

Remy's answer to -that- question comes in the form of a crooked smirk, "It be a challenge," he drawls. "But I think I can pull it off."

"I don't exactly have to try hard." Amadeus points out with a raised hand.

Will shrugs. "Eh. It'll probably be ten definitions of fucked up, but what can you do? I say it's as good a plan as can be planned."

"I might need a little help," Ashleigh admits, "but I could come up with something."

Jess gives yet another shrug as she glances about the room, her voice quiet but her gaze confident. "Same here. I don't think it'd be too hard. I mean I /was/ in the presence of Oz's worst for a while. That should provide some inspiration," she adds softly.

Illyana finishes her notes. "I'll pass this on, I'm sure assignments will be sent soon. Is there anything else, before I let you go?" Her smile makes that into a joke, since no one is hopefully actively shuffling their belongings like restive students watching the clock just yet.

Will shakes his head. "No questions," he replies.

Parker also shakes his head, his expression timid.

Ashleigh shakes her head, as if in response to Illyana. She leans forward a bit in her seat, though, as if in anticipation for leaving.

Christoph steps aside and slips out the door.

Everyone else presumably files out in some order after, and Illyana stays until the end. Go forth, little agents! Be free!

The whole base is pretty much here, and this is what we come up with.