Even the Chrononauts didn't enjoy having infinite resources. Sometimes, when things became burdensome to take on by themselves, they enlisted the help of the SBI, the Spacetime Bureau of Investigation. As both the SBI and Chrononauts stood over the site of the dead dragon, they knew that it would take both of them and more to finally deal with Chong once and for all.

"So, what we got?"

Agent Lovefool handed her associate a datachip, which he took and plugged into a slot at the back of his head. He hummed and ahh'd every few seconds while scanning the information.

"That's not all," Lovefool sighed. "Intel from Chrono says our guy made off with some eggs."

"Eggs?" Agent Fluffy rubbed his chin. "What would a veteran of the Time Wars need with some eggs?"

Lovefool shrugged. "Dunno."

"Local intel from law enforcement? Military?"

"We know Hogwarts is sending wizards who are en route as we speak. We've sectioned off this part of the reserve. They've got a five-acre cordon. We have all the space we need to figure this out."

"Where's Chrono now?"

"They have a lead on Chong's whereabouts. Said they're assembling strike teams to start hitting him."

Sadly, for all these two knew, Chong was long gone by now.

"Agent Lovefool. Agent Fluffy." Lifting the yellow cordon tape, Detective Senior Inspector Queror strode over to the two agents. Her blue hair was in its signature bun--always neat with nary a hair astray--her grey-blue skin and jet black eyes regarded the two heavily. "This just in from Desk. You're looking for eggs? There's a shop not too far from here that one of Chrono's stakeouts in the city noticed had suspicious movement. One profile fitting Chong's. They looked to be holding a sack or case of some kind with egg-shaped objects inside. You know what that means?"

Before she could even finish, Lovefool grabbed her coat from a nearby vehicle and donned it. "It means, I don't want to let Chrono get the credit for this one. Sorry, boss. You can write me up later."

Queror chuckled. "When did that stop you? I don't mind taking over the dragon corpse investigation. But hey--make sure this one is done by the book. We're working with foreign nationals outside of our normal timeline. Have Hogwarts leadership secure you a warrant for this shop, have a team of special-entry wizards or whoever they use here and do what you have to do. And I better hear some good intel after the raid. Fluffy, you can go too. I know how bored you get on simple detail."

"Uh, thanks boss! Don't worry--we'll be back before ya know it!"

((Chrono = the chrononauts))
((Difference? Chrononauts are like the military. US Armed Forces. SAS. Delta. That kind of thing. SBI would be FBI/federal/interior agencies. MI5, CIA, NSA--the "spooks" and such.))

That's just it. With all that is going on, I'm saying that it's a hard entry. Also didn't get answers to my questions about the RP, so I'm unable to continue without them.

That was my plan originally. I was going to send them to the aftermath of the site where Chong killed the dragon, but other RPers posted that first, and as stated previously, wasn't sure if I would have had the green light, in case my post overwrote what you all had planned. Ya dig?

I'll likely add some of my own content to the tropes page.

I was going to write a Chrono team heading to the site of the dragon slaying. Didn't end up going with that because I didn't want to step on toes. That's the problem with being written into a corner between transitions. The pre-Pottermore stuff was dragging on for quite a while.

Threed and Kit nodded and left the chambers, quickly finding themselves at the landing point for the forces. From here, they would be organized into different groups who would then scout for Chong and his forces, then take them out. During this time, the detectives would also separate--Kit conducting more recon and small-unit actions, and Threed overseeing wider-scale conflicts and coordinating tactical movements at the company and battalion levels.


"It's a little quaint, no?" Sergeant Hourlaw said, mostly to himself.

"Agreed sir," his subordinate replied, looking around the dusty shop.

"These orange robes are squeezing me something fierce. Petty Officer Ticktock, put in a memo to modify these later to suit more tactical needs. We can't conduct business like this. These wizards will have to get used to non-wizards at some point. We're here to help them, after all."

"Noted, sir."

"Excellent, now . . ." The sergeant strode to a nearby room. "Admin in here. The rest of the building you all can divvy between yourselves."

"Understood, sir."

"Excellent. Now," turning from Stripetail to Dumbledore, "I will likely use a pocket dimension to act as a forward base for my men. However, I highly recommend allowing me to use an old building in town as a headquarters. Since it will be a week until those wizards are ready, I was going to split the battalion into smaller task forces who will hit Chong where it hurts: his allies and his logistics centers--should he have any. I won't attempt to make the final push without those wizards. Notify me or my men here as soon as possible, Professor Dumbledore. Should you be comfortable with it, I intend to leave one company's worth of men here just in case Chong shows up to counter-attack. Before you ask, a company is typically four platoons with twenty men each. So you'll have a small, yet very capable contingent of 80-100 men. Likely 80, given how easily shaken up wizards tend to be with anything not-magic."

Kit stepped forward. "That's where your wrong, Professor. The men have all the info on Chong that you had in those books. I scanned them and sent them as nanodata to Admin, who then distributed it to the battalion."

"And as for intelligence," Threed added, finding his second wind. "They have it. Do you really think I would have them show up aimlessly? There is a reason, Mr. Stripetail, that I am automatically given a military commission rank during any operation I'm part of. Now, I may be eccentric, I may be out-there, I may be-"

"Annoying and a little stupid."

Three shot a glare at Kit, who smirked and rolled her eyes. "Yes. Well, I may be all sorts of things, but the word 'ineffective' cannot be counted among them. In fact, I dare say this would only be a 'wild goose chase' if you fail to produce any meaningful intelligence on Chong's whereabouts. Now, since my arrival you all have been somewhat amiable, but also very space-cadet when it comes to turning your brains on and cooperating with me. Perhaps you doubt that I have stake in Chong's apprehension and subsequent termination. Allow me to explain . . ."

"Threed."

"No, no. No, Kit. I will not be doubted as to my effectiveness nor my motives for engaging upon this quest. Ahem."

"If talking about it is still too much for you . . ."

Threed gently placed a hand on Kit's shoulder. "I'm quite all right, dear girl. Right then. Chong is a multidimensional paramilitary criminal. Of this, nothing can be said to the contrary. The reason . . ." he paused, taking a few silent breaths, "I am here, is because we served together in the Second Time War. I suspect that his service is partly what led him to tread the path he is currently on. Now, in the First Time War my home, Triforia, was lost to the Machine Empire. Have you seen what a temporal deletion looks like? I doubt it. Have you seen what happens when . . . when your homeworld is simply deleted from your primary timeline? No, you haven't. Now, I am here to ensure the same doesn't happen to Hogwarts. In this timeline, I haven't a home, sir. But you all do. Fail to work with me and I'll go, thus ensuring you too, haven't one. That includes the muggle world as well who, as I recall, aren't ready for you to integrate with them in full force. I am deeply sorry if the arrival of my men upsets you or the magical world. They are, obviously, not here to fight nor invade sovereign territory. They are here to establish a rally point so that I may ensure everything is accounted for prior to our world-hopping, military crusade. That being said, if you're going to get hung up on the fact that I'm using any resource at my disposal to help all of existence, do let me know, and I can return to Admin, take the battalion with me, and find a Hogwarts in a different timeline who will be a little more grateful. However . . . if you and I are truly of the same allegiance, and both want Chong finished for good, I respectfully insist you give me what I ask, produce proper intel on Chong's could-be whereabouts, and let me know if you'll need any combat armor of your own to join us, assuming you're no stranger to the front lines."

". . . Threed." Kit treasured rare moments like these. Moments when, if only for a few seconds, Threed seemed to shine with a radiant aura, his purpose burned into her heart like a brand. It was moments like these that assured her, she was in good hands and couldn't ask for a more capable partner, and leader.

"Hmm. Good question, Professor. Allow me to confer with my partner."

"We'll just be a minute, Professor Dumbledore." Kit added. "Pleased to meet you by the way."

The two temporal detectives had a small huddle a few feet away from the two (one?) professor(s).

"Right, then. So Kit, I'm thinking . . . about a platoon's worth of wizards should do?"

Kit blinked. "Pretty small amount. Chong might wipe the floor with so few. Dark Arts or not."

"He may . . . if they were going in alone."

". . . I know that tone. What do you have planned, Threed?" Kit raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing . . . except using the battalion of support Chronopolis offered."

"What!? I knew it! I knew y-"

"Ssh!" Threed put a finger on Kit's lips, who snapped at it. "You loud foxkin! There's no need to invite all of bloody Hogwarts into our huddle! Besides" -- a quick pause to steal an over-the-shoulder glance at Dumbledore -- "they will be under my explicit direction. Capture or kill. Preferably kill. No temporal erasure. Period. Remember: I'm automatically promoted to Line Major during any sanctioned military operation. And, my dear, it gets no more sanctioned than a battalion of to--I mean soldiers to play w--I mean command."

Kit nodded, then rolled her eyes. "I'm going to assume you've already requisitioned this battalion from Admin then? And that they're likely on their way to this timeline as we speak?"

A smirk painted itself on Threed's face. One that betrayed the answer Kit sought.

Just then, Threed's wrist watch began to blink blue. A quick tap on its screen and a holoscreen appeared with a blue-skinned Chronopolian fitted in their signature white-and-blue combat gear. "Sir!" he barked. "Rear Major Deskin Minutehand. I'll be your second-in-command for this op."

"Yes, yes. Pleased to meet you, Major." Typically, in the military arm of the Chrononauts, the battalion level was manned by a Line Major or Lead Major, his XO as Rear Major, and assisted by a Sergeant Major--one of the highest NCO ranks within the organization. In times of "extreme circumstance", the ranks will be renamed to Grand Commander, Lord Commander, and High Sergeant. With powers reorganized to fit the roles. "So I take this meet-and-greet to mean you're on your way then?"

"Correct, sir! Stand-by for timefall deployment. We're using the temporal loom system and will be with you at Hogwarts shortly!"

"Ah. Yes, y--beg pardon?"

"Sir? I said we'll be with you at Hogwarts Castle shortly."

Threed began awkwardly tugging on his collar, and trying to signal something to Major Minutehand, who only arched an eyebrow. Confusion written on his face.

"Major, are you in distress? I'm merely following your deployment plan."

At this, Kit raised one of her own eyebrows. "Rear Major," she cut in. "Major-Adjutant Kit here. Tell me, what exactly did the Major order for your deployment?"

"Well ma'am, on my holopad it says to 'arrive in full force at Hogwarts Castle', and that we have to 'make it look good' so that he 'looks cool'. It says here it's to 'induce a hit to enemy morale'. Was this not an accurate plan? I can amend-"

"No," Kit said flatly, glaring at Threed who was, slowly, trying to hide behind the mountain of man that was Professor Dumbledore. "No, that won't be needed, Rear Major. As you were."

"Ma'am". Major Minutehand gave a crisp salute, and ended the holowatch call.

"So, we're now using military assets to 'look cool'? Is that right, Major?"

"N-Now Kit. I can explain!" He replied, backing up even more behind Dumbledore. "Y-You heard the XO. It's for morale purposes! We have to come with our A-game to beat Chong!"

"Do you see Chong here? Is the 'A-game' to have them causing a panic in the streets of Hogwarts? Not to mention, any anti-muggle contingencies they might have here. It's a hidden magical city. Emphasis on hidden. You have to be magical or some kind of complex tech-user just to get here! Oh, and reminder--we're not at war with Hogwarts! We're at war with CHONG!"

"U-Uh, well . . . hehe, let's not speak for our most magnanimous hosts. Ahaha. Why, I'm sure Dumbledore appreciates the show of force. They could use help around here with security! Isn't that right, Professor? WHOA!" He narrowly missed Kit's claw swiping at him. "Calm down! You're going to ruin another longcoat!"

"Professor Stripetail. Ah, yes. Temporal Detective Inspector Threed Fourson. This is my partner, Temporal Detective Sergeant Kitsune-"

"Just Kit is fine."

". . . Indeed. As I was telling your esteemed colleague, I'll be needing at least a squadron's worth of your finest wizards. I'll need them well-versed in the Dark Arts. To make an exhaustingly long story short: we're to seek Chong and dispatch him in this timeline. Once and for all. So, I suggest if you don't want to melt into temporal aether, you prepare those wizards for me, chop-chop!"

". . . I think what Threed means is, take us to Dumbledore? We were told that's who has to sign-off on this wizard loan."

"Mm. About that," Threed began. "The only way Voldemort would be able to join forces with Chong is if you wizards didn't bipity-bopity him into the netherrealm. One has to ask: why did you not dispatch him when you had the chance? I mean, I don't recall if you did so in the novels, but--" he paused to look over at Kit, whose wrist watch was blinking bright blue. "That'll likely be Chronopolis then, Kit."

"No shit, Threed." A blue holographic screen appeared in front of her, bathing her face in light of the same color in the dimly lit castle.


FROM: CRONOPOLIS || SUBJECT: CHONG, Re

SUBJECT: Chong, SNU
TIMELINE: Source
SPAN: Proper
SPECIES: UNK
SEX/GENDER: Male (ASD)

CRIMES: Inappropriate Use of Spacetime Manipulation; Unauthorized Use of Spacetime; Aggressive Quantum Armament; Quantum Manipulation with Hostile Intent - 1st Degree; Manslaughter, multiple counts; 3rd Degree Murder, multiple counts; 2nd Degree Murder, multiple counts; 1st Degree Murder, multiple counts; Quantum Terrorism (Terrorism Through Time and Space), multiple counts (FURTHER OFFENSES CONT>)

CATEGORY: |F| |E| |D| |C| |B| |A| |S| |SS| |SSS|
ALERT LEVEL: GAMMA

RECOMMEND: TERMINATION, POSSIBLE H.A.K.A.I.

NOTES: Allies and conspirators recommended for termination and/or possible H.A.K.A.I.

". . . Whoa. Threed, come read this real quick."

"What? Why?"

"Just get the hell over here! It's about Chong."

"Oh. All right, all right." He strode over and peered over the datapad. He began to mumble various words contained thereon. Then, his eyes widened and he blinked, then looked over to Kit and blinked again. "Oh. Oh my. I can't remember the last time we've encountered an S-class hazard to spacetime. Even the First Time War wasn't that dangerous."

"Read the bottom lines."

That's where he saw it: H.A.K.A.I. Threed gulped. "A-Are they serious? They want us to H.A.K.A.I not only Chong, but anyone he's even managed to get his little grubby hands on? Anyone that has ever or will ever work with him? At all period?"

"It, uh, seems that way." Kit replied, having lost most of her fuel to jab at Threed sarcastically.

"Er, oh. Well uh, see if you can get Admin on the phone. It doesn't hurt to double-check with the blue men themselves, after all."

Kit nodded. "On it."

"Oh, Tarrax," Threed said to the dragon. "I'm afraid we'll have to rain-check that tour. But I do need a few favors from you, if you would be so kind . . ."