(Worm) To Boldly Grow...

[ScottotheUnwise]

To Boldly Grow…

This is the tale of one Taylor Hebert, fresh to the command of a fleet Starship found in salvage.
Will there be analogs of Star Trek, probably. Will there be Wards or Undersiders prominent, that is not the base intent but the muse may wander off in that direction. Puns? Yes, but not as the focus. A different take on both Emma and Sophia from the get go, due largely to AU elements that may be explained or go the route of handwavium –like how the heck does Taylor get a starship and not immediately go to space.

Posting schedule, when the muse sneaks up and smacks me upside the head. (Approximately 1 per month unless I say otherwise.)

Audience: Worm might be a good thing, canon or fanon, with the understanding that this train is off the tracks before the first station is in sight. Star Trek knowledge is not a must as this story is approximating the genre and referring to the show of that name to make comparisons that highly amuse the people* involved.

*Yes one of them is an AI.

 

[ScottotheUnwise]

Log entry 1 07.13.10—----------------------------------------------

In the last week of summer camp, we scoured the small creek for stones to make friendship necklaces. I was among dozens of gangly preteens and teens working over the same areas as last year's group. My impression of the stones found was that the camp coordinators likely dumped a bag of generic river rock here with a handful of less common stones for the lucky few. I'd found one nice smooth stone and sat down to wait while idly digging my hand in the mud beside me. And I found it.

An unusual stone indeed. All sharp angles and cube shapes.

Pyrite. Fool's gold.

But it was a little different from the picture as it had lines that were connected but made turns, snaking back and forth on one face. S shapes, repeating.

The dirt around it broke on me tapping it and washed clear.

In the light, some of it was golden in color, but other parts seemed almost purple and the lines cut into it as the S shapes reflected a rainbow coloration.

We queued up to have the counselor drill holes in our stones so we could thread them for the necklaces. I had hung back, ever the wallflower, no deep camp friendships having come out as I was one of the few older kids who was not a special needs camper. My smooth stone drilled with nary an issue, but the Pyrite one refused.

"Huh, broke the tip." The counselor tut tutted. "Damn thing, that was my last bit." He dug around in a drawer for bits and bobs and came up with a mounting clasp, just a crow's foot of metal with a ring for the string, and offered it up. "Just fit this around a corner and glue it in place. Pretty stone, that. Unusual for a mountain stream." He winked at that as if including me in the big secret.

I smiled shyly as he handed it over and pointed to the glue.

Emma would love it, especially since it could be worn gold side out or lavender. At least it seemed to be the color.

The last day of camp came and went.

Dad had called and said that he was off on a business trip, and would be another two weeks. Uncle Alan volunteered to pick me up and Emma was coming along, she had been giddy on the phone to tell me about her latest modeling gig.

They thought I didn't know about Dad being in rehab upstate, but the walls are thin at our house. Dad hadn't so much as fallen off the horse after mom's passing as been thrown, then run over by the remainder of the herd. Aunt Zoe had taken me to camp herself, packing my things while Uncle Alan had sat Dad down and spelled it out for him.

As my godparents, they had a responsibility to take care of me if Dad could not. They'd both promised Annette just as Dad had promised for their kids. "...nd frankly Dan, you are one step away from having Taylor taken away from you by the state. Once CPS gets their paws on her, you may never get parental rights back –the few rich people wanting to adopt actually prefer smart young women…"

Aunt Zoe had closed the door at that point.

By the time we'd left, Dad had his hair combed and he and Uncle Alan were collecting empties from around the house in two different garbage bags that were nearly full.

Dad had kissed me off. He still smelled of alcohol and mouthwash both.

I was waiting in the church lot where Uncle Alan was going to pick me up. It had been an hour so far and all the other campers had been collected. Something wasn't right. If I had a phone, I would have called them, but Dad had vetoed the need for one.

This church was a little one, serving three different denominations and acting as a meeting hall for different groups just a few blocks in from the Boardwalk. It wasn't a bad area by a long shot. But here I was, a preteen girl waiting under a single streetlight, and the last counselor just pulled out of the parking lot.

My nerves were getting to me.

And then I saw Uncle Alan's sedan coming. He pulled in, and popped the trunk.

"Throw your bag in the trunk hun, I am trying to get this damn GPS to work to route us back to the house." He noted.

I lifted the rolling suitcase into the trunk and closed it. My backpack, an old handmade jeans thing that Grandma Hebert made me before she moved to Florida, I shouldered and got in.

"Hey Ems."

She was engrossed in her phone for another moment, then she mimed a squee. In a stage whisper she noted. "Dad complained that if I made too much noise, he wouldn't stop for ice cream on the way. There is a place that does drive through three blocks up."

I raised an eyebrow. As a docks kid, I knew that the ABB turf started around that point. "Isn't that in the 'no Bueno' zone?"

Alan chuckled at the interplay. "Nothing will stop this one when it comes to ice cream. And you deserve the treat. Danny said to say hi, he –ah– had to extend to graduate the training course."

He was driving again, following the GPS instructions.

"Turn right, now." The electric voice sounded.

His frustrated growl answered. "Down an alley? Hell no."

"Recalculating. Turn right in… point 1 miles." The voice was almost British in intonation.

As Uncle Alan turned, it seems this road was a private access instead of a full road. Panel vans were parked along the left side, backed up against a loading dock. In a gap of trucks, I saw young men in green and red colors loading a truck with pallets of shoe boxes.

"Eyes front girls." Uncle Alan muttered. He drove on slowly. It felt like he was tip toeing.

One of the shrink wrapped packages shifted and loose shoe boxes fell off, revealing a pair.

Emma jumped to the window, hands flat to the glass. "Oh wow, those are Zigtech Reebocks!"

Several faces turned our way. We couldn't go forward now as Alan was stopped to let another group of the young men cross.

"Emma! Sit down, eyes forward."

One of them older guys, in a ski cap down to his ears came over and tapped the driver side window. The guy said something over his shoulder at the others, the only word I caught was "Gwailo" then he chinned (like a nod but reversed) to Uncle Alan. "What chu doing this part of town old man?"

Smiling slightly, Uncle Alan acted like he was talking to the police. "Just passing through. GPS says this is the quickest route to old man Wang's Ice Creamery." He was inching his right hand up, the pistol in his hand seemed hidden from view as he used the left hand to point at the GPS box on the dash.

"Ass cream?" The thug mocked Uncle Alan's accent as he leaned to look at Emma and me. "We got you some nice…" He froze as he heard the click.

The other bangers did not as they tried the passenger doors. Emma buried her face in my arm in reaction.

"Guys?" The barrel on the pistol in Uncle Alan's hand was just above the arm rest and tracked up just a bit. "Don't bother the man, he's just passing through." His voice broke a little.

One of the smarter ones hissed "Gun!" and the rest backed off from the car.

"I have no quarrel with you or your boss." Alan uttered the most badass flat tone I'd heard outside of old Westerns. He put the car into gear and slowly pulled away. "Duck down girls."

He didn't gun it, but we began to bounce in the potholes where the gravel was thin before we hit the turn. Shots rang out as I dragged Emma to the floorboard.

Several hit the car and then the back windshield shattered with the slug suspended in it. "Bulletproof glass you dumb shits." Alan ground out as he turned. "Going to have to pass on the Ice Cream girls, seems like Lung's boys are feeling their oats."

We got to the Barnes household and piled out before he pulled into the garage. The trunk popped so I could get my bag. There were two holes in the trunk lid, and a hole in my rolling luggage.

We ran in and yelled for Aunt Zoe and told the story. Zoe went out to the garage and had a long talk with Alan about endangering kids off the main roads –and why they don't take cars at night into the bad parts of town.

"They are all bad parts of town." was his tired reply. "And while that glass paid for itself today, our deductible will be a pain in the… behind the next time." His eyes drifted to us as he changed his words out.

"Why don't you girls get settled and we can have a late snack for Taylor." Zoe saved him from further discussion.

*******

"I got you a present at camp. A friendship necklace." I noted as we thumped the case up the stairs.

In her room I opened it on the floor next to the blow up mattress I sleep on when staying over. The bullet passed through it, putting shampoo over the section –now mostly all dirty clothes in a garbage bag. I felt around the inside pocket and came up with the smooth stone and a crumbled mess where the Pyrite should be. The bullet had hit it, darn the luck!

I'd painted a cute peace symbol in many colors on the stone and Emma's face lit up as I took it out to show her. "Here it is." I lied.

So I lied. She loved it anyway. "But not for school. Mom says mean girls will doss you for anything homemade or even break them." She said knowingly.

I nodded along, not having the motherly advice appropriate for high school. Mom's passing before I hit ninth grade still hit me sometimes. Soldiering on as she got up to check how it looked in the mirror, I pulled out the other necklace. There were crumbs all over the bottom of the pocket that came out in my grip. The necklace was on the clasp still, but the stone was half sized. The main part of the cubes was gone, but there was something in the middle poking out that was rounded and thin –like a disc.

I held it up to the light and there were flickers of reflection on it.

Emma came back in and put away her necklace in a drawer. She nodded at the one in my hand as she saw me tossing the bits that had broken off. "Pyrite right? Did it break?"

"Yeah. I think it had a penny wedged into it or something. Want to see?" I asked, holding it up.

"Taylor! Emma! Come on down a minute, the officer wants to talk to you." Zoe called out.

"Hooboy." Emma griped.

 

[ScottotheUnwise]

Log entry 2 07.13.10 (Sophia)—----------------------------------------------

Shadow Stalker stayed put watching the smugglers load the van. Despite the bad acting, she figured the car of lost uptown folk were unlikely to have been in real danger. The top boxes had all been loose, added later. The bottom boxes weren't separate, they were the shells of shoeboxes glued together around crates of wood. These guys were taking weapons smuggled in by sea and shipping them out to drive to New York or maybe Boston. The gun cases were packed in along with bags of drugs sprayed down with cleaning solution made with a component chosen to smell overwhelmingly bad to dogs as well as being toxic to them.

That was what she was tracking here, smugglers. Or the capes involved with this smuggling racket.

Not Lung's capes, but the out of towners that took the pickup outside of BB to ride with it back to other cities. It was close to a line that she didn't want to cross, as Lung would demand payment for the shipment whether it got there or not, but she wasn't exactly in the game for the safest option.

That and this week was the last before school started. Ugh, High School in the gang contested part of the city. But it was either that or go where the Empire had its control entrenched such as Clarendon or find a way to afford attending Arcadia. The scholarship had been withdrawn quietly so it was clear they'd caught the steroids in her system on the bloodwork.

She wasn't taking them anymore, not after that fiasco over softball in Middle school. The coach had pushed it to stay on the team, and gotten her career tanked instead of getting to state finals. The students involved, herself included, were relocated to avoid the taint but she'd been warned it could be years before she tested 'clean'.

To Sophia, this was all camouflage to what was really going on. Coach Everett's little army experiment had been about Softball on the surface, but included camping, weapons training, survivalist stuff that would set the local PTA's hair on fire. At the end of it, they'd hunted criminals in the area. Moonshiners. Deadbeat dads. Poachers. Sophia had become a good shot with bow, rifle, throwing knife and the hunting crossbow Coach Everett gave her when she felt the noose closing in. Well, that and the attempted Bolivian necktie.

Dear old Coach had grabbed her as a hostage with a machete to her throat when the cops stormed the place. Sophia herself had felt her fear spike as the flash bangs rang out, and Coach had tried to 'saw' her one head shorter but there was nothing there to cut. Sophia had fallen through Coach and the floor into the basement. While the cops tackled Coach, Sophia had loaded a go bag and the prized crossbow and beat feet for the tree line.

Brockton Bay was where they'd sent her family, knowing that it was as far away from the panhandle as you could get without saying 'eh' all the time. Mom was an analyst for the PR side of the PRT. Hah.

The crossbow had been broken down into a bag that superficially looked like a guitar case for ease of travel. It had been repainted in shades of gray, along with the hockey mask that now sported cartoonish lidded eyes over a painted-on bandanna.

Mom knew most of it. The powers. The tips called in to police and later the PRT. Her rule was that if her powers were found out, she could go to the Wards or skip town. In her family sixteen years was old enough to set off on their own if need be –not pushing but it was a thing done in the past.

'Ah, the truck was rolling out. Good, another five minutes and I would have to pretend not to notice the three goons trying to sneak up on me from my six. Time to take out the garbage.'

*************************

Alan and Zoe took me to my few appointments before school. I finally got my braces off, just a retainer 'partial' to keep my teeth from straying and that was only overnight. We got most of my clothes checked for size and replaced as needed. Dad had kept Mom's rainy-day fund to the last, even after her sparse insurance had run out.

I was convinced to not wear barrettes or ribbons in my hair. Oh, I didn't cut it but a touch of straightener made it less of an issue. Scrunchies were okay for physical stuff but never for real modeling.

Emma helped me shop, using her modeling connections to ruthlessly get discounts from the stores who used her agency. She had mentioned the modeling itself as a lure to get their attention. While I was in no way the beauty she was, my height was close enough to the waif look they preferred to be a model after a growth spurt kicked in over summer.

At least that is what they said while pushing every 'last year' item in my size over the counter. Most of the clothes I had left from camp were washed but passed over to Goodwill, I'd outgrown most of it already.

Just being out of clothes that no longer really fit me or fit my new sense of fashion –living with Emma did that to you through osmosis– made me stand taller. Lessons in walking with poise, in heels and on narrow boards to prepare for the catwalk lanes.

"If you can't stay cool while strutting, then someone like Carly will push you off the side 'by accident'." She warned me about the usual teenager suspects from her own agency. The book balancing thing was movie fluff, they practiced with an egg on a spoon held in your mouth and scattered Legos on the floor.

Because we were going to be starting at a gang adjacent school, we'd been through a two-day self-defense course and were going to be taking further classes together at a dojo in the strip mall near Uncle Alan's offices.

****************

The day before school started Emma and I were walking back from the dojo to his offices, well the company he worked for anyway, and nearly walked into a family coming out of the lobby. A mother, daughter around out age and someone that read like 'stepdad' waiting off to the side but still with them.

"Soph, a deal is a deal. You are going to Winslow because it is closer, and we can't afford the tuition. Your…" She looked up and caught our eyes as we came in. "Excuse me ladies, but where do you go?"

Emma started to say "My dad's office." but the woman smiled and held up a hand.

"No, no. I mean to school. Which school do you attend?" Slipping into a southern accent to match her dark skin.

Not a Brocktonite born, or from Boston for that matter. Transplant.

I piped up. "We start at Winslow tomorrow." Odd that they wasted the Monday of the week, but it was one more day at the dojo.

The teenager rolling her eyes while her mother talked zeroed in on Ems and me. "Why do you have wet hair in this weather?"

Ems and I were in jogging sweats, clean with damp hair. It was a little blustery but we were still warmed up from the classes.

"Taking classes at the dojo. Winslow has a reputation." Emma drawled. "Emma Barnes." pointing at me. "Taylor Hebert." Head tilt the question.

Her mother gave her the shoulder bump to answer us.

Phwww. "Sophia Hess." She said it almost like she expected us to jump on her name for some reason.

She made a fist though and I felt comfort when Emma matched me turning to the right a little to expose only my guard left arm while I positioned my right foot.

Sophia relaxed, nodding to herself. "A little basic, but good instincts. I guess I will see you tomorrow." She stepped around us as her mother and the 'tool' walked out as well.

They were met by their car by a college aged… brother, definitely brother the way they play fought for the front seat before both resigned to the back with a youngster in a car seat.

I heard the girl call him Terry and some kind of insinuation that he was too good to come inside. Then the door finished closing and Emma was holding the elevator heading up.

The ride up was accompanied with light muzak, something from the 'Cars' I think. The third floor was reserved for full partners, among which Alan Barnes' name stood out on the plaque. Right below it was Carol Dallon, but she was only there predominantly because of her ties in the cape world. At least that is what Emma said.

As we were pointed to the conference room all thought of that dropped from my mind as I saw a freshly shaved man in a suit turn my way and stand up from his chair. The look on his face cleared away any doubt in my mind as he whispered, "Taylor?"

I rushed forward, "Dad!"

His hug was something I missed, still needed. Despite everything, despite the missed meals and dirty laundry. The beer cans on the floor or hidden half drained in the cabinets instead of food.

"Are you … good?" I asked.

He half shook his head. "Today is more of a formality, honey. The Barnes have agreed to take custody of you for the duration. I … I have a lot more time I need to spend in after-care. There was damage to my liver because of the drinking."

The glow of health faded a little as I took in his new crow's feet. He was gaining back some of the weight he'd lost during the binge. His face was clean shaven, but he'd lost enough hair that he'd buzz cut it back to almost gone.

My look made him self-conscious enough to brush his temple. "Yeah, the program is like boot camp in some ways. Shaved my hair. Boots and Army Surplus clothing. Long hikes in the mountains, sweat lodges." He shook his head. "This one can take a year and I am only part way."

Zoe Barnes spoke up from the table. "Danny is here to sign over his parental rights which is a prerequisite for the state funding for a long-term treatment program like this. He has to go back within two days."

Uncle Alan opened a folder of papers. "The sooner we get through this, the sooner we can go out for dinner…"

So the gist of it was that I was going to continue living with the Barnes', in Anne's room now. To pay for the treatment, Dad was selling our house. Half to pay and half in trust for me at eighteen for college or twenty-one if I don't go. The state funding was set up to reimburse Dad if he graduates the program and stays clean for another six months.

I got to keep my name. Alan and Zoe Barnes are named my guardians. Emma became my sister legally as well.

Dinner with Dad was a mixed blessing. We went to his favorite place downtown, Italian and he had to keep his glass upside down. Not even coffee was allowed, or tea. He waved off the breadsticks and had some dish made mostly of eggplant with meat sauce.

"I will pay for all this for a day or so, but the withdrawal effect of caffeine is a terror." He smiled sadly, "And no wine or beer of course."

The program was largely grains, coarse ground by hand, trapping game if they wanted meat, vegetables grown in planters with their own composted wastes. They collected on their hikes or went hungry.

Bittersweet thoughts made me skip dessert. Emma nodded and did the same, saluting my resolve for 'modeling'. Right.

 

[ScottotheUnwise]

Log entry 3 09.01.10—----------------------------------------------

The first day of school dawned with Emma pushing for matching outfits and getting Aunt Zoe's veto. No fancy clothes. No lipstick. Nothing that stood out beyond the yardstick of the school dress codes. But I did wear my necklace on the thin chain, under my shirt.

I took to my computer classes like a fish to water. Emma took to the social group hierarchy like she was born to it. The others moved to exclude me at first, but Emma pointed out diplomatically that I was HER sister. It didn't hurt that I was making good marks from the get go and was willing to tutor.

Julia and Madison were some of the first to find the worth of someone willing to share SOME homework assignments, while pushing them toward dropping the 'copy' method and converting them to doing their own work. I was marking up their first drafts and making suggestions for how they write their seconds. In return, I was treated albeit grudgingly as one of them.

The teachers saw of course, but what they decided they saw was a means to reduce their workload. The smarter ones called me in to discuss the weak points the others needed to review better.

Weeks passed and I found the group expanded to cheerleaders, and then to the jocks. And then the girl's track team. I'd seen Sophia occasionally, always looking angry at something. She had a chip on her shoulder the size of my shoe and glowered at the study group from time to time. We didn't have any classes together.

And then I ran into Sophia Hess in the hall.

"Twig. I'm failing English Lit." Her approach was as subtle as a brick thrown through the window. She continued in a similar vein. "Here's the deal, you do my homework, and I don't take out my frustrations on your body."

My answer was calm and thought out. "While that sounds like such a bargain, I feel less than infatuated with the outlined plan." I smile. "Let me propose a counterplan. You join the group. You write the words and I proofread. I make suggestions to improve your work to the level required to improve your grade."

"No, no, that doesn't work with my schedule." She started to reach for my collar.

I nudged her hand aside. She moved faster and I blocked that. Again.

"I see you've kept up with your classes. What belt are you up to?" Sophia leaned in and grabbed the straps of my bag. She attempted to hip toss me right there in the hallway.

My twist and hook of her legs stopped her leverage dead. It helped that my legs are longer.

The look on her face!

She was up in a moment, ready to continue.

"I don't keep track of things like belts. Did you know they offer Aikido classes?" My hands moved without thought, twisting her arms some as I lifted her leg with the one I had hooked. "Judo too."

She stumbled away, coming up in a stance.

"Hess! Hebert! What is the meaning of this?" I did not recognize the Principal at that point, only the authority.

Summoning up my best calm voice I told her 'a' truth. Not THE truth. Emma had drilled that into me from day one. "Sophia is having problems in English class and came to me. She offered to trade in training in self defense and was assessing how far along I was."

"Is that so?" Her name tag said Blackwell. Oh right, they introduced her at the first assembly, but the sound equipment was crappy to the point none of the freshmen could understand squat.

Sophia switched to 'interacts-with-authority' mode and spoke clearly with no anger showing. "Yes ma'am. Might have let it go on too long, but she isn't a complete write off. She does need to improve her wind."

The truth hurts. It was something my instructors had mentioned, that I don't have the stamina for a longer fight. I could but nod at her assessment.

"Instead of sparring in the halls, why don't you help Miss Hebert with improving her stamina? I'm assigning both of you to run laps today after school. And since I know you run track Miss Hess, you can do it with dumb bells in hand." Blackwell wrote us off in her mind and walked off, but this only revealed a smirking coach behind her.

"I will see you both later." The woman noted.

The detention laps after school became the primary subject at lunch.

The study group tables quieted down as Sophia brought her tray over and scootched in the empty on my left.

Wordlessly she pulled out an assignment sheet and ruled paper with a longhand essay on it. It was makeup work and had notations on 'clarity of subject' and 'unoriginal work' on the original, with plenty of red marks here and there.

As she was taking a bite out of her sandwich, I asked her "Did you buy that off the internet?"

Her eyebrows shot up as she tried not to choke. "Mrrph?"

"Thought so. This reads like someone from the sixties with a conservationist agenda." I looked her over. "Unlikely tone for you. I would suggest planning it out like a sports event. First you check in and stretch. Then you do the events. Then you cool down and finish."

I could see her thinking about it.

"See? Here at the beginning, you tell what you are going to accomplish, the stretch is your plan. Then you go on to…"

***After school

Laps were miserable. But I wasn't alone with Sophia at all. The entire study group dressed out after school and ran laps, soaking up the briefing she gave –asking questions about what was necessary before the run, how much water to carry.

"This isn't a marathon. Laps are to teach you to breathe slower than you want to at the end. Then you stretch to keep from getting acids built up in your calves, charlie horses."

This was the first time I saw her not be angry while talking. She was in her element. Confident we would listen as she jogged in reverse half the way. The track went around a soccer field with the football field and its bleachers on one side. On the fifth lap, our quiet group came up even with the bleachers to find two groups of boys ready to fight. Some of them were white. The others were clearly not, but mostly of Asian descent, with a sprinkling of Hispanic and African tones.

Sophia brought our group to a halt, staring at them with arms crossed. The rest of the study group fell into place beside her, a real mix of ethnic groups ourselves but far more mingled than the lines drawn up here.

One of the smoother fellows with a blond sweep of hair stepped out with a "Hellooo, Ladies." His attempt at a suave voice got derisive chuckles.

Sophia put it succinctly. "Hello, morons." She leaned to the side to eye the other group. "And hello, ethnic morons."

This brought out the angry mutters from both groups, seeming to forget their disagreement their leaders stalked toward us.

Emma tapped Sophia's shoulder and stepped in front. "You know school grounds aren't the best place to meet to 'discuss' your grievances. You also know your chances to impress the cheerleaders drops to zero if you hassle new prospects and their friends."

The Chad guy up front was looking past us now while he spoke up to answer. "No problems, Mr. Chen, shall we meet over by the Sunshine park?" He tilted his head over toward the Soccer team in the middle doing practice and the coach visibly watching our way.

A few phrases in one or more dialects had the smaller group peel away. The white boys more or less paraded by, headed toward a different exit, chests out and flexing when they could.

One rather short guy tried to catch my eye and ended up tripping over his own feet. He got up without looking back but I could see how red he'd turned in his neck as he ran to catch up.

As I turned back, Sophia was giving Emma a fist bump. "Way to take the wind out of their sails." She grinned. "Al-most as fun as punching." She caught my look. "Something to say, Twig."

"Better get back to laps. Coach might decide to double them." I note with a shoulder roll.

After detention cum practice we walked out to the parking area adjacent to the track. Aunt Zoe had been waiting for us where she could watch from the car. "Glad those boys knew when to take 'no' for an answer." She frowned, "Who is this?"

Sophia was trudging out our way. "Can I get a ride with you? Already got the hotheads riled up, no need to play rabbit with them too."

Nodding, Aunt Zoe answered. "Hop in"

Both Emma and I snorted, knowing the puns were going to start.

"Where do I drop you?" Zoe asked as we got onto the main street from the dock area to –huh, I guess it is really home now.

Emma jumped in. "Take us to the house, mom. We have some time before going to the dojo to work on homework. Way I hear it, Sophia could use a hand."

Sophia looked like she was ready to deny, deny, deny but I just shook a finger at her.

"You won't get away now that she's adopted you as a project." I looked past Emma. "And the dojo is downtown, walking distance from the law offices we met you at."

Aunt Zoe glanced at the rear view mirror, "Are you a client of Fenway, Barnes, Dallon and Howell?"

"My mom is." She said quietly.

Inwardly I expected Emma to pipe in with her version of the acronym she created, 'Filchem, Burn em, Deal em and How', but she was quiet.

Oh. Divorce lawyers the half of them. The other two of the Fenway brothers –there were three– and Carol Dallon all practiced Parahuman law, an odd branch off that happened due to 'unusual circumstances' according to Uncle Alan. Wait, didn't she have a 'clearly a stepdad' in tow that day?

 

[ScottotheUnwise]

Log entry 4 11.19.10—----------------------------------------------
Some few weeks later, Friday.

It was evening, dark mostly with occasional heat lightning showing through the window. I was in a long nightgown, old fashioned like from the eighties. It was a body length once-was-pink T-shirt slash dress that mom got in college. Sipping tea and reading because I couldn't sleep. My necklace was on the window sill in front of me. I could see the occasional flash of lightning reflected in it, clear where the pyrite clung to the disc, but dark on the disc. Odd. That flicker happened out of sequence with the lightning. I leaned over and examined the necklace without picking it up.

From this angle, it made me think of a building with little port holes or windows. Huh, that one is lit now and I can almost see a room inside of it.

It was reminiscent of the front half of one of those ships in Star Trek, a really old series that sort of fell away before I was born –at least here on Bet. Feeling a little whimsical as I was clearly half asleep, I sat up straighter and saluted. "Captain Taylor Hebert, reporting in. Permission to board?"

The light grew stronger in the window, in the other windows along the edge. There was a feeling of energy, of static in the air…

Lightning struck maybe six blocks away. Wow, that was close. I looked back down to my necklace and had to ask myself, did it look like the disc was smoother than before. I'd probably worn away more of the coating of pyrite on the disc itself.

A knock on the window sill jolted me enough to almost spill my tea. Looking outside I saw a dark shape with a cape and some kind of crossbow out there on the roof over the porch. Hockey mask with face painted on. 'She' was breathing heavily, heaving with effort, holding one shoulder.

Shit! There was blood on her hand seeping between her fingers.

I unlocked and slid the window up without considering. I was about to pull a cape, even a teenaged girl of one, inside my room at night.

"Twig... Need help." She started to slip down the roof a little.

Fucking what?' A little bit of Dock brat was still in the Hebert mix, I guess. I lunged for her arm and blessed the weights we'd been using for upper body development –Emma's private quest for more defined cups beside the point. I got her up to the window and pulled her across onto the bed.

Gunshot wound.

As I reached for the phone, she opened her eyes and grabbed my wrist. "No cops. No hospital. They are hunting me out there and that kind of shit will just have them burning down this house after the commotion dies down." She grins lopsidedly. "You got any rockets, just pop one in to stop the bleeding. I got a little regen if I don't bleed out."

Fumbling in the drawer for the ah feminine products I opened the box of small tampons grumbling to myself. "If I was a ship captain I would just have them beam us to sickbay."

"Order acknowledged" A voice both prim and quiet in the night.

The fuck?

Light filled my eyes. When it passed, Sophia and I were in a different place. She was on a bed of dark woven material covering over metal. There were displays on the walls and mechanical arms coming down out of the ceiling.

One of the arms was moving its grippers like a mouth as others formed a pair of eyes above that. "Fractured ribs. Chemical projectile lodged in shoulder, small circumference –caliber?" They moved smoothly together, even with another behind forming pupils that showed through the gaps to roll at my expression.

Freaky.

Play along.

"Fix her up." To myself, much quieter, "This must be a dream." Louder again. "Do what you can to help her out. She really needs better protective armor against gun shots."

"Acknowledged." I heard it like a whisper.

More light played over Sophia as it got to work. A circle was excised from her costume and the lights played around the wound area seemed to reassemble the damaged area. I turned away and looked around.

There was another couch/bed like the one she was on, so I hopped up on it. My fingers found controls that raised it to a sitting position. "What can you do for me?"

The screen closest to me started scrolling with glyphs and notations.

"Communications. Subdermal mesh. Haptic feedback array. Improved sensor control…"

The whispering voice seemed like it was going to go on and on, so I stopped it with a raised hand covering a yawn.

"Gimme that. And if we are going to be all sci-fi dream works then give me the full Captain package!" I thought this was all a dream but I suppose even in a dream one can be sleepy.

The last thing I heard before sagging into sleep. "Welcome aboard, Captain Hebert."

 

[ScottotheUnwise]

Log entry 5 11.20.10—----------------------------------------------

I woke to the sound of Sophia startling awake on the other bed. As I opened my eyes, I could see her casting around until she spotted her mask on a small table. Her weapons were behind a clear panel in the wall that didn't open despite her banging.

And then it hit me, I could see. I mean I could see just fine around the room despite my glasses being on a similar table just a bit away from me.

I turned to put my feet down and found Sophia RIGHT THERE in my face. "What. Did. You. Do?"

She tried to grab me but found little purchase on the jumpsuit I was in. Jumpsuit? It was gold on top, had a sort of belt area and darker legs with some of the gold down the sides to my knees. Either the shoes were integral or it blended in. "Seems like your wound is coming along nicely."

Her shirt –and bra– was still missing the circle cut out of it. She jolted and covered the ah area and frowned. "Didn't think you swung that way, Hebert." She pouted with a raised eyebrow of suspicion. "Wait. No way!" She fingered the slightly pinkish sealed wound there. "It felt a lot worse last night, that and my ribs?" The last bit was asked as she wiggled her arm in a circle. "Damn. I feel better than I have in years."

"Good to hear it." I stood up and looked around. She seemed a little shorter than usual. I held a hand out to measure her height, bringing it back to where my mouth was. I could swear she was closer to my eyebrow level yesterday. Ah, if this is tomorrow. Might still be in a dream state. Dream, this is still the dream...

"Ah, ship, can we get some civilian clothes for Miss Hess here?"

Immediately the near whispered answer. "Please define civilian wear."

"It's freaky to hear with no face to look at, do the puppet hand thing like before. And you can scan my closet for examples, just dark and broody, ah trade any red for black."

A pair of the arms lowered and became the puppet face. "With power returned, local communications monitoring suggests several items."

An image right out of Grease the movie of the bad girl in leather and off the shoulders top appears.

"Ah, hard no." Sophia groused.

"Hoodie and sweatpants." I clarified. Another image came up. "A jacket with a hood, not the Klan wannabe. And the pants should be cloth, not that nineties reject. In her size."

A hoodie and the correct gray sweatpants materialize on the bed she'd gotten up from.

Sophia gestured for me to turn around, which I did. The puppet face appeared to turn away as well. She stripped off her blood-soaked pants and I could hear her stop. "Where is the shower?"

I shrugged. "It's just a dream, I haven't thought out details." I considered a moment. "Ship, clean off the blood, sweat and any accumulated grime on her please."

The light flashed and Sophia was shaking a little as she pulled on the sweatpants. "Can it fix my bra, that is one of my favorites."

"Three bras, just like that one, but intact." I say.

Three bras appear on the bed.

She whistles. "I thought I was on the good stuff before. Which hospital am I at?"

Whisper again, "This is no hospital. You are on the exploration craft Freyja. According to my records, you are Sophia Hess also known as Shadow Stalker –friend of Captain Hebert."

The puppet mouth stayed in sync so well, I could swear it was talking. I turned to speak to Sophia after I heard her finish getting the sports bra and the hoodie on. She had her nose pressed to the clear panel with her gear in it, looking down.

"Does that look like my costume inside there?" She asked.

I look at the puppet. "Explain please."

"Your orders to bring you and Sophia aboard. You requested that she be fixed up. You also stated that she needed better armor versus small arms."

We were interrupted by a loud bang followed by a very loud Emma voice. "OHMIGOD, TAYLOR!" Thump, Thump, Thump, slide.

"BLOOD?!" Emma's voice rose an octave.

Holding my hands over my ears. "Too loud, quiet it down."

Thump, Thump, Thump, SLAM.

"Exterior sensors are connected to communications." The Puppet face explained.

"What noise?" Sophia asked, looking puzzled.

"Did you give her comms?" I asked.

Solemn puppet face nod. Sophia blanched and backed away, having just fully noticed where the voice came from.

"Activate. Authorize. Turn 'em on."

Sophia. "Huh, I hear Emma's voice shouting."

"Ah, ship. Put me in my bed clothes and beam me to the bathroom."

As the light flashed. "Beam? How quaint."

I dabbed some water on my face, brushing my hair back as I walked out into the hall.

Emma was rushing up the stairs with Aunt Zoe behind her. "What's happening?"

"Taylor, what is this all about? Emma said she found a lot of blood."

I walked in my door and held it for a moment. "Ship, clean up evidence." I whispered.

The flickers of light as the bloody mess on my bed disappeared was quite amusing to me. Emma pushed on me to keep me from blocking the door. "See?!"

Zoe crossed her arms. "See what exactly?"

"Already cleaned up." I muttered. "Ahem." I nod toward the drawer with the open box of tampons sitting in it.

"Oh." Zoe grimaced and shook her head. "Don't forget to run the batch through the laundry or the stain will set, honey. Emma. downstairs, pronto."

I close the door and get dressed.

I heard snickering over the communicator. "I guess we are even after that show, Hebert."

Red faced now. "Ship, cut off external sensor imaging unless I am aboard. Keep it down, Hess, I don't know if there is some way to overhear things."

I dressed for a jog, it's a Saturday and I think that is what Emma was dressed for. I open my door to find Emma leaning against it with a glass.

"You heard me." I say voice flat.

She waved her hand side to side and looked around my room. "Where is she?"

"Not here. Let's go to the park." My necklace is on and tucked into my shirt. It's sunny out, but a little on the blustery side so we grab light jackets to tie around our waists if the weather turns.

Emma is simmering with curiosity on the way to the park. But I wasn't listening. I was paying more attention to the HUD that was displaying on my eyeballs. It highlighted groups of people with gang affiliations.

"How long until we get to the park? And why?" Sophia spoke over the communicator.

"Almost there. Sensors on." I added.

Emma harrumphed. "You are acting most strangely, sister-friend. What sensors?"

I walked us into the park and headed for the picnic tables. Nice day, but not nice enough for anyone but the kids gathered at the jungle gym. That and mom's chatting by the benches over that way.

"Hess in her civvies? Beam her outside."

"Acknowledged."

"Whut?" Emma asked, then squeaked as Sophia sat up from the grass on the other side of the picnic table.

"Hey Red. Twig." She gave me a look. "I see we are out of Never-Never land. Can we head to my place so I can have my stuff back?"

"Am I going crazy here?" Emma was holding her head, elbows on the table. "There was no one there."

Sophia grinned a little nasty version of her usual mood. "And no blood on the bed, right?"

"How did you even know that?" Emma's voice dropped to a whisper. "Are you a Stranger?"

Sophia rolled her eyes. "Noooooo." She raised an eyebrow at me. "Wanna bet you get rated as one though?"

I blink. "Moi? I'm not a parahuman."

"How do I loathe thee? Let me count the ways: Healing. Pocket Universe. Material creation?" she growled but did not whisper, not in the least. She was also rubbing her collar where the injury had been.

Emma looks at us like she is watching a tennis match but her eyes light up now. "TayTay, are you a cape?"

"Say it louder. The mom patrol didn't quite hear you." I use my deadpan at her.

One of the women from the bench by the little kids got up and walked our way. "Ladies." She said, looking at Emma and me. "Is this young woman bothering you?" She said, judgmentally looking toward Sophia. Her brown hair didn't much make her look anything beyond a Karen.

She held herself like she was armed.

"This is our friend from school. She is not bothering us as we invited her to meet us here." I spoke up.

She reassessed me and I came out less favorable as she turned away muttering "Dock trash."

She made it four feet before I raised my hand in salute –bird finger flying.

Sophia who had half stood was about to comment further when Emma grabbed her with a hissed "Calm down." Then, she had laser focus on me. "Healing?"

"Bullet hole in her right shoulder. Cracked ribs. Ship handled it." I mutter.

"Ship?" She started, then looked beyond us at the two men approaching.

"You are being rather loud. Why don't you move along?" The one said while the other glowered at us without speaking.

I tilted my head. "So, did you hear what we were talking about as you walked up?"

Tweedle Dee looked at Dum and shook his head.

"How does that track with us being loud then?" I said, getting up. I don't think he was quite ready for me to be taller than him. He took a half step backward. "Go on back to your kennels, little yappy dogs. Ladies, we are leaving."

Emma and Sophia fell in with me as we turned. "Your place, by way of somewhere to lose the tail."

"Long jog from here." Hess grumbled.

"Then we jog to the bus and take it to your turf." I note.

*******

The apartment building she took us to was run down. Like a watch ticking it's last minute. It had a visible tilt to it. Or so it seemed. Optical illusion?

On the inside it was just a little worn, but as you passed through the lobby with the older black gentleman reading the paper, it got nicer by layers. We bypassed the elevator as it 'takes all day' and walked the stairs.

An odd mixture of people on the terraces facing inward. Black, white, Mexican, Hindu. Bit of everything. I recognized a few faces from the dock workers too.

The change outside tripled when we went into her apartment. Clean. New. WTF?

"Mom works for the PRT. They own the building. Employee benefits include on-call security, bigger on the inside suites, and the ability to call bullshit." She smiled widely. "Now where is my stuff?"

I glanced at Emma. "Fine. Ship, I need her costume and gear in a carrying case like she described."

The light flash showed the bed and there was a garment bag on the bed. On top of it was an instrument carrying case.

Sophia lifted the case with a frown and then opened it. The body of the crossbow looked the same, but the arms looked very different. "What the hell? This isn't MY crossbow." She lifted it up showing a stock but a more cylindrical shape like a two-liter plastic bottle. There were small arms visibly spaced around it that folded into slits. Picking it up caused two of the arms to open and almost tension up, and her whistle at the cartridge of six bolts ready to load.

"Ship, explain please." I note, holding up a finger.

A holographic image of the puppet hands forming a face appeared in front of us.

Emma squeaked but cut off as Freyja began to speak.

"The weapon you carried was damaged during your fight. When you described it, I checked my records for recreational weapons that closely match the desired result. While there is a charge in the battery, it can reload by pressure backwards on the trigger. It can maintain three shots at the ready, with the recoil absorbed into loading another shot for three more. Six bolts are required to fully reload." Pause. "Turn the lever to the on position."

She did so and gaped. "It is floating on its own power!" she turned it around a point in space easily, but it wasn't until Ship told her to depress the smaller button next to the trigger, she couldn't budge the center of gravity.

"The gloves of your costume contain remote controls. The unit can fly on its own from its current location to the costume wearer. The unit can hold your weight in place for up to five minutes at a time as well as rappelling with cord integral to the butt stock."

Emma was fish mouthed, sucking air as this went on. "Taylor, how long have you been a Tinker?" She managed to get out.

"To my knowledge, I am not a Tinker." I speak slowly. "I have… a ship. It existed. I found it. And I apparently claimed the 'Captain' position while panicking over a heavily bleeding visitor last night."

Emma's confusion was palpable.

Sophia cackled. "You told them it was Aunt Flow that got your bed bloody, didn't you?" She touched her collar. "Gunshot. Not a nine, but certainly bigger than a twenty-two."

Time to change the subject. "Ship, what did you do to her costume?"

The whispery voice was audible but barely so. "All materials are improved to Fleet standard protective rating... Controls were added in gloves as described before. The quiver has been modified to attach at any point of the costume chosen by the wearer, releasing only by contact of the gloves to colored portions. Communication earbud added to mask with integrated visual display interior of mask. Manuals downloaded into storage of camera systems, simply request 'manuals display'" The prim voice seemed a little peeved somehow.

I asked about that. "Ship, speak freely. What is bothering you about my decisions here?"

The voice brightened immediately. "Captain, revealing secure information to non-crew is suboptimal to continued function…"

As both Emma and Sophia reacted to this, I held up a hand. "I have a solution to your misgivings. Ship, I designate Emma Barnes as First Officer and Sophia Hess as ... Security Chief."

"You nerd! Did you just make me a red shirt?" Sophia laughed.

"Officer positions accepted, albeit with slightly different official naming conventions. Query, what does 'redshirt' mean?"

I shake my head a little. "Ship, try to connect with the communications and data storage of the city. The Library should have records of a fictional series known as 'Star Trek'. Review related works and discussion for similarities and differences so we don't stumble too much."

"Noted. Ah. I see surface similarities already." A pause. "I see no correlation between the ship design and any existing vessels of my origin… Before it is forgotten, when would you like to schedule Officer upgrades for your crew?"

"Define… upgrades." Emma breathed hopefully. I could feel her thinking about cup size.

"All upgrades need to conform to existing visible traits." I note, watching Emma deflate a bit. "This isn't time to call out the boob fairy."

Ship waited for me to finish then began briefing on the changes, similar to mine though not as extreme. Subdermal mesh. Biological additions to bone structure. Musculature improvements. Internal communications. This wasn't Star Trek. It was a might closer to Borg if anything.

"Nothing that would make us too far outside of human baseline in normal activity. If you can pack in other features that do not show on current era scans unless called on, do so but give us a manual." I then had a thought. "Is there a way for them to have their uniform –or Sophia's costume– available for immediate use when away from me?"

"Yes. I would suggest embedding a shuttlecraft inside a piece of small jewelry such as an ear stud such as –what is your preferred appellation in the field Emma Barnes?"

Ems shook her head and shrugged. "Haven't actually considered it." She was rubbing her gold stud in the second spot up on her ear. She got it when she turned fifteen. "Better add masks if we go out Captain. You gave your name before. Freyja? And do the shuttlecraft have names?"

"I am of the exploration class, designation FC-2045 Freyja. I have two shuttles aboard, the Bygul and Trjegul. Ah, the local data stream and found references to Norse mythology with my name as a goddess, with the shuttle names being two… cats. There are similarities between my original crew –most of them calling themselves Hume and others. Their origins refer to 'Earth' or 'Dirt' with much of their pre space history obscured. That suggests the Zhin field anomaly placed me in the distant past or perhaps a parallel line."

I could see Emma inhaling to ask but made a slit throat gesture while shaking my head side to side.

"I'm no scientist, but aren't you a little small to be carrying around Earthlings or descendants of such?" Sophia's tone was dry.

Freyja paused for a moment. "In the time before my creation, a development allowed the creation of a subspace zone attached to a physical device. This followed after the creation of Mattermission, what you referred to as beaming. What you experienced inside my hull was largely material that was naturally at that size." She sounded proud. "There will be no gigantic ships coming to the rescue here. The largest items in my storage are the shuttles themselves, though when they engage their subspace fields they could be missed in a bag of beans."

Ship –ah, Freyja– then made small flashes near their ears. In Emma's case the gold stud briefly disappeared and then reappeared. For Sophia a stud in silver appeared in her left ear.

"Better give her a matching one on the right. There are cultural connotations to single earrings…"

Sophia just snickered and shook her head negatively.

"Ah." Ship answered. "Captain, I would like to relocate from a necklace to a more secure location, also on the ear but as a clip stud."

"I suppose you could heal it up if I don't like it. Let me see."

There is a feeling of light pain from two points high on my ear. Between the two studs on the front side is a one-inch chain of gold with four small –ballpoint pen tip sized– crystals. The ship I feel on the back side of my ear. The pain was gone before I realized it.

"Can you give us a primer on some stuff? Like display it on the TV as if it was for the series?" Emma asked. "Better that than the a …" She waved at the hologram display. "Operational security as you said."

It was clear Freyja was multitasking, but she agreed to this plan to prevent 'unauthorized information breach'. Besides displaying various things available, she was inserting details that showed Protectorate ratings on moves we could pull off.

Brute was first and obvious. The mesh underneath our skin –after tonight for Emma– increased our defense to penetrations well beyond what most bullets could push our way. The field running through it was like an inside the skin forcefield as well. That same field could add to our strength in usage. It could also dampen the effects of gravity, redirect it about our bodies. It took energy though, and we would eventually need to find more of the materials needed for fuel production. The odd thing was that the kinetic barrier could absorb energy as long as there was enough to protect us in the first place.

Each of our vessels could project images over the surface of things. I WILL NOT call it a Holodeck, dammit. Freyja did admit that there were nodes in the earrings and on Sophia's costume and Emma's and my uniform. She elaborated that the costume was closer to a Harsh Environment Reconnaissance Suit –but Sophia just smirked and called it "Hers".

Where I had gold, Emma's uniform had violet. In an odd coincidence, security was a red theme with other levels below it. Sophia had noted an undershirt in red was part of her costume. A common tan or brown were 'Passengers' and had the least clearances on ship.

Mover/Stranger: If we needed to actually fly rather than float a bit with style we would have to beam into our respective craft. Because 'cloaking' was apparently complete fiction there would have to be an image overlay that showed us, costumed us, something like a cat or bird for faster movement or some other overlay to hide the presence of the craft inside. Top speed would be on par with a jet, but for operational security would be closer to a car.

That was the major issue with that mode right there. The craft –in this case the jewelry the craft was embedded in– could not beam into the ship, just us. Each would have to be placed somewhere within the image they showed, in a location that allowed site lines to what 'we' would see.

"Unless we were together in Freyja, then we could spread them out or dock them onto the main piece." Emma pointed out.

I didn't like the muley tone Freyja got when asked about ship's weapons. The shuttlecraft themselves were unarmed, but ship weaponry was only unlocked in emergency situations involving mass loss of life threats.

"Like Endbringers."

The TV screen froze, then showed three overlapping images. Behemoth in New York. Leviathan in Kyushu. Simurgh hovering over Lausanne in the Alps. On the edges, death counts and dates scrolled by.

Even Freyja seemed taken aback. "Quite."

It was clear that Freyja began to concentrate on her research as the TV returned to showing scenes of ships moving around the planets of not-Earth systems.

We heard the jingling of keys in the front door. Sophia quickly took her uniform and Caster to her room, while Emma and I sat on the couch.

The young man who came in was the same as from the car weeks ago, but now I saw why he didn't come in. He was in a leg brace, using a crutch. He immediately fixated on the TV and the ships on it.

"Oh cool, what is that? A new series?" He glanced at us and did a double take.

Freyja scrolled some credits and then switched the channel back to what appeared to be a newsbreak.

Sophia's mother trundled in with a toddler in her arms as well as a grocery bag.

"Mom, the worst possible thing has happened!" He was cringing over dramatically. "Sophia. She has FRIENDS!"

"Oh, ha, HA." The so-called came back in.

"Girl, I need help with the other bags, stat." Emma and I shared a look and got up to help. There was some middle schooler holding the elevator door down the hall, so we scrambled to grab the bags taking up the back half.

The poof ball afro tween girl holding it smiled at us. Yeesh no middle school girl needs, ah, boobage like that! She winked as she slid an apple behind her back. I pretended not to notice but Sophia waved a fist as a half threat. Clearly, she was a resident of the building who had been dragged along in the wake of one Kiki Hess.

Coming back in a line I could see her mother examine us in turn then frown at Sophia.

"Sophia Eve Hess." Ah the fated 'brooks no argument' tone. "I thought we discussed piercings and why they would be a BAD idea for your, ah, work life."

Sophia set the bag in the kitchen then spoke through the pass through over the breakfast counter, feeling safer out of reach. "We discussed other kinds of piercings, not earrings."

"You have the matching one on the other side?" Observant, thy name is mother.

Sophia lifted the hair on her left side. "Nope. And before you say or ask it, I am not gay. But I dooo enjoy taunting certain Empire affiliated boys at school. Just more reasons for me to thump them good."

Sighing but smiling. "Yes, and it is a blessing when you use up that spitfire outside of our home. But what if you get grabbed by it?"

"Trust me, Mom. That won't be a problem." Sophia grinned.

The toddler ran out of the room, the shy type. Terry ambled off the way boys do, even though he looked like a senior he didn't appear to handle company well.

Her mother paused to introduce herself then. "Kiki Hess, girls." She considered us. "I remember you two from the law offices. Emma and Taylor. I had not connected you to Red and the Twig my loving daughter has mentioned at times."

"Ma'am." I noted.

Hand up to her forehead, dramatic mode on. "Oh lord! You done called me up. No way MY daughter found herself friends with pleasant, POLITE people.".

Sophia sighed even as Emma chuckled. "I know where Terry gets his sense of humor."

"Fine." Kiki rolled her eyes at us. "Introductions aside", she looked me up and down, pausing at my one slightly overlarge earring and then at the doors down the hall which had closed. Her tone went to adult 'serious-mode' and she looked me square in the eyes and asked. "Is Sophia recruiting you or are you recruiting her?"

Emma's squeak of "She knows?" was blocked by the TV going to a loud commercial.

Sophia cringed as Kiki held my hand, waiting.

Clearing my throat. "Not how I expected this to come up, but I am recruiting her."

"Hero, rogue or… vill?" She asked.

I considered that her other hand had slipped behind her back under her jacket. "Ah, not a villain. It is complicated, but we aren't here to flip her."

She studied me as her finger rubbed my wrist. Then she let go, relaxing and showing her other hand. "No change in your pulse as a reaction to my asking or on your answer. Something under the skin." She turned away and started putting away the food like nothing had happened. "You are either a very good liar or that is God's honest truth."

Kiki kept the chatter up while we put away things and then further as she cooked. While she chatted about anything and nothing at all she brought out papers from her bag. She pointed to a blank pad and then to a pamphlet for the Wards, and managed to say Team twice once while touching each.

Sophia quickly pointed at the paper. Emma was kind of wishy-washy. I thought about it and pointed at the pad as well.

Nodding along she took up a pen and wrote on the pad. 'Independent team. Did you check for bugs? I work for the PRT.'

I was about to ask Freyja but saw the TV switch to an ad on 'Pest Control services. Kills Bugs Dead.' with a logo that showed a circuit patterned roach. I nodded and answered confidently there were none.

"Huh?" Kiki intoned. "I would have sworn that they had a mike on me most of the time, even if it was my phone."

"You would be correct." Freyja's voice came from the TV. "But your phone's microphone is currently hearing the news cast under light conversation in real time. Your son and other daughter are using the internet."

Kiki's eyebrow raised at me.

"That is Freyja." I gesture at my earring. Point at Emma's. "Bygul ." then to Sophia who brushes back her hair again to show the earring more clearly. "Trjegul."

"Mine can speak and think for herself, the others do not, yet." I feel a little pinch at misdirecting the woman, but there was a point to keeping your cards close.

Sophia looked at me and shrugged. "Still going by Shadow Stalker. I don't need to build up a rep from scratch."

Emma shook her head demurely, "I haven't come up with anything good yet."

"And you? Your cape name is?" Kiki asked.

"Captain." I answered automatically.

She smirked in a way showing Sophia was not adopted. "Girl, I read comics before they faded out in the eighties. Captain America you aren't."

"Not The Captain or Captain America, just 'Captain'." I nod to the TV. So much for cards… "Freyja is my ship."

"Pull the other one, it's got bells..." Flash.

We three were on the bridge of the ship, Emma, Kiki and I.

Sophia looked around in a near panic. "What if someone walks in?!" I could hear her as if she were in the room, but she was out there, displayed on screens split into two different views. There was an echo from the room so Kiki could hear it.

Freyja did the multi-limbed face puppet thing and answered. "I am projecting you and Taylor. Emma is projecting through her shuttle, Bygul. Sophia will cover for us if need be."

Kiki mouthed a word. "Alien" I think.

"We are not aliens." Freyja spoke calmly. "This ship around you dates from a time so far in the future that the mythical origin point for all Hume is just 'Dirt'. Whether I come from your future via time travel or from an alternate running parallel that was in effect thousands of years ahead of your own… The point is moot. It is what it is. My original captain and crew are dust. I was trapped in stone, without an organic intelligence that would allow me to interact with the world around me." She seemed to take a breath metaphorically, "I moved forward through hundreds of thousands of years the natural way. Taylor found and claimed me under salvage rules. She bonded with me to become my Captain. Emma and Sophia are now part of my –our– crew."

The flash put us back in our respective places as the door to the toddler's room rattled then opened. Kid TV music played as she came out. Smiling around her paci, hair flouncing as she walked into the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator by leaning away from it holding the towel on the handle. She reached in and collected a premade bottle of chocolate milk then hip checked the door shut.

Holding it up she took out the paci with her off hand and pronounced her triumph. "Choco Bob." and walked down the hall to her room. As she left, she tossed the paci over her shoulder to land in the sink without missing a beat.

Sophia just shrugged it off as if that was completely normal. Moving on autopilot, she mixed up another chocolate milk bottle and screwed the lid on before putting it in the bottom shelf.

Emma popped a poser that didn't occur to me. "How come Bygul doesn't talk?"

Freyja replied through the TV again. "My shuttlecraft are sentient to a degree, but not sapient as of yet. You can think of them as un-developed versions of me. My class of ship is designed to build them out into fully developed ships of their own when I have sufficient resources and time. And then more shuttles. Until they are fully formed they are essentially cats, friendly but aloof."

"Cats?" Emma simpered. "I like cats."

 

[ScottotheUnwise]

From Nine Lives of the Calico.

Kate was inclined to agree. Then she started laughing and laughing. She couldn't breathe for a few moments. Then she whipped out her phone, called up the web and a wiki article. "You have to go by Freyja! Look here."

There was a picture of a white-skinned goddess portrayed as in a chariot being pulled along by CATS. She wore a necklace called the Brisingamen, jewelry of fire. She was a warrior. Her cloak of feathers allowed her to travel between worlds. The dots connected. It was kind of scary how close it fits.

Click to shrink...

A/N Freyja - Simple English Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia Cus Knowledge is Power! Also, who knew?

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[ScottotheUnwise]

Log entry 6 11.22.10 (Sophia)—----------------------------------------------

Unable to sleep. Sophia settled in to use the HUD in the form of contacts on her eyes, pulling her covers over her head. "Okay, say your name again." Well, the built in appearance of contacts in Cybernetic form.

"Trjegul." It came out hard to describe. Like saying 'Terrible' with a mouth full of cereal.

Right, well she'd lived with a brother who talked while eating so that is just what it was. "Terrible." Shrugging, Sophia focused on things she could understand. "Show me the usage of the Bolt Caster weapon. Give me options for lethal, less than lethal and passive takedowns."

There was a pause before the video started playing, although calling it video was less than accurate as it felt three dimensional as she looked left and right. "Freyja here, Trjegul is relaying your requests to me. Shuttles don't carry extensive library resources. And your pronunciation is 'Terrible'."

"Oh, ha, ha." As the video showed what it could do, the Caster threw any thought of the name out of her head. "Ooooh."

Throughout the night, she worked out how to master macros for what she wanted. Then she figured out how to set them up to play when she pressed a certain place on her gloves.

Nearly infinite bolts. Swapping out the blunt bolts for sharp. Bolts with cameras that deploy to look around after it is stuck in. Ball bearing filled bolts for tripping. One-shot Taser bolts –not a Taser really, better. Bolos that fired as a single bolt that split in flight. One shot emitters that would show smoke roiling in an area until the power ran down or the shuttle beamed it out.
And then there was a bolt made up of filaments of a supermaterial that unfolded as it neared the target area, becoming a net.

Automated recovery of shot bolts by beaming once the combat is over with. No pesky evidence.

Camouflage built right into her costume. Being able to blend into the coloring of buildings in real time when mostly still. Being able to trigger a flash effect to blind night sight.

Freyja watched as the Security Officer proved her worth by rounding out her own weapons. Then she doubled it as she called up the real problems in the city and tied them to villains and gangs –the kind of information that is either not on the internet or muddied with falsehoods presented as fact.

When Sophia finally slipped into sleep, inter-ship beaming brought her to Freyja. In sickbay, the rest of the Officer package was applied. Minus the height addition. A tall person getting slightly taller was overlooked. An average sized teenager, not so much. Flushing out the steroids took longer as they were not built to flush easily. Combat add-ins that were not incompatible with the phasing the girl could do would have to wait for another day. Her hair appeared much as it had before, if one ignored the texture of braided metal.

Sophia was beamed back to her bed just as Emma was beamed in.

Freyja considered the note pinned to Emma's pajama top before beginning. Her Captain had said no visits from the ah boob-fairy with sudden changes, but Emma's own wishes considered that a growth over several weeks would not be considered out of place at her age group. Nor would adjusting her metabolism to better harness energy but not store large amounts as fat elsewhere be extraordinary.

Emma had postulated that a difference from regular looks in uniform would assist in keeping their civilian persona intact, which would help prevent their home from being targeted. While Freyja did not herself approve of such tactics, 'when in Rome' indeed. The girl suggested her uniform sleeve and gloves appear to be furred bare arms, with imagery overlaid on her face that suggested a Cat race.

She did not mention a Cat tail, but Freyja remembered one poor crewmate who had not been a good candidate for regeneration treatment had had a prosthetic tail. With that on file, Emma's uniform had an addition to the belt, a furred Cat tail that could move on its own. That it also contained a small energy weapon was merely additional safety.

Emma's upgrades included emitter nodes in the face for her disguise, eyes that could convincingly appear catlike on demand, and claws that normally show as flattened, colored nails, but could fold down the middle while curving. The edges could score metal at need. With the other Officer upgrades in place, she would pass for the same race as the fellow who had had the prosthesis. The underskin layer was thinner, a mesh of ceramics with field emitters to harden on command.

****

Morning arrived and I went into the bathroom and showered with dark hair.

When I went to dry it, I wondered what I would look like with a different color. My yelp of surprise got Emma coming in to look at me. "Color change hair? Not fair."

I had long white hair. Not like see-through white, almost glowing white. It made my skin look gray…

She pouted pitifully. "I wish I could change somehow…" She muttered as I turned back to the mirror.

Standing there wondering why not green –or blue even?-- I got a pinch on my behind right as my hair turned green and then blue. Turning again, there was Emma freaking out about her claws and cat features in the mirror. She made a pretty cat at that, red fur in stripes like a tabby.

Her voice grew panicked until both she and I heard the communicator click. "You can return to your normal form by willing it."

Aunt Zoe's raised voice sounded in the moment of silence. "WHAT is the matter?"

And There she was, just a redhead again.

A glance in the mirror showed my hair was dark and curly, not short and white. And my skin wasn't nearly as gray as it was moments ago. As I looked closer, my Sclera faded from black to white in a way that totally outlined the change.

Emma was unscrewing a little tube of concealer. Dabbing some on her nose, she opened the door and halfway yelled down the hall. "There was a Zit on my nose! I have a shoot this week!"

The disgusted "Uggh!" from downstairs at least proved Emma wasn't adopted.

"Come on, we have school in an hour." I thought about the sensors like the manual had stated and they came on line for me. Wireframes showed me the rooms beyond me and some of the downstairs. "We are clear to talk. Ship, can we put a hold on the 'changes' during school unless direct physical threat is involved? And try to come up with some plausible deniability options, please."

Ship's whisper came back immediately. "As you say, Captain."

"This is going to get old sooo fast." I groaned.

**********************

We didn't share classes before lunch, but Sophia was there waiting at our table as we got in line. She opened her paper bag by tearing it in half, catching her sandwich and apple without looking. "Why do I feel like I am only able to touch the wrapping paper on my Christmas presents?" She ground out. She was repressing a bounce and frustration showed when she wasn't directly concentrating on something.

Others were joining us, having to check in on their respective groups, just the ones needing specific help coming to sit with us –me.

"Does it look like Christmas? Presents come to those who wait. Unless there is an emergency." I state, taking my salad off my tray.

Sophia glared at me like I was playing with a new kitten and would not share.

The way her eyes widening hinted at threats unspoken made me look away. And right there was Julia.

She was the head Cheerleader, and always looking for some angle to evoke privilege she hadn't earned. A Captain, oh ha, ha.

"Do I detect a crack in the solidarity?" She smiled sweetly. "Dear Sophia appears to be tweaking. Or is it juicing? Either way it is ground for suspension if not expulsion. Without your bodyguard, there is no reason to negotiate for our time slots in the study group. That is of course if the teachers didn't also hear that you are her supplier of the drug of choice." Her fangs were clearly showing, social judo is one of her stronger points. "The deal has changed, pray that I don't change it any further." She tittered behind her hand as one of the other Cheerleaders crossed her arms in front of me. "Now then, give me your notebook so I can handle scheduling the appointments." She held out her hand, demandingly.

Sophia stood and looked ready to move in, but one of the bigger jocks made his presence known by stepping closer.

"Stand down." I say offhand. Back to Julia, I return her look and take out the scheduling notebook. Opening it, I can see the cheerleader appointments for the two in front of me are outlined in red, meaning their grades had slipped below the standards for the school system and would be facing suspension by midterms. "An interesting take on negotiations. No doubt you've planted evidence here or there –in a locker perhaps?"

"No doubt…" She started but Mai thwacked her in the arm. "Mai?! The fuck!"

Mai herself frowned further. "No names. Don't talk with them. Tell them what you want. Full Stop."

Julia frowned. "But Paul is like right there?!" She winced "Ow!"

I subvocalized. "Ship, give me a cell phone actively recording in my bag please."

The voice answering me could not be heard outside my head. "Splicing in previous audio with the interior of your bag. Pull your hand out when ready."

I could tell the moment when Ship either informed Sophia and Emma or that they heard the answer. Both of them relaxed from the tension filled atmosphere.

My hand in the bag settled on a pencil. Taking it out I started erasing sessions for tomorrow and Friday.

Julia's voice cracked. "W-what are you doing?"

I erased two more, glancing at Paul when I took him off the schedule, getting a little shiver there.

Mai eased closer. "You can't do that. We OWN your ass now!" Her growl cut short as I reached into my bag again. 'What is that?"

I pulled the phone out. "This?" I played it around to show Mai, Julia and then Paul. "One continuous recording, visual presence and audio from before. Time and date stamped."

Mai appeared to be gauging the distance to grab the phone.

"Streaming to an offsite location in real time." I heard Emma say.

Ah, Ship fed her a line.

"Paul, I NEED that phone." Mai spoke up. Huh, they were both blonde haired, blue eyed purebred folk while Julia was better than average, Eastern European mix. A beauty, but not the right sort of people in the long run.

Sophia squared off against Paul now, easing herself up and blocking his approach to me. Defensively, she only had to keep him from making a play to take it.

Julia opened her mouth, but my offhand forestalled her. "Quiet now, the adults are talking. It is clear to me that Mai is running this show."

The girl in question lunged across the table, hand shifting from aiming at my phone to my throat. Without thinking, I slapped her hand down onto the plastic table. I am able to get a grip on the wrist, giving it a twist.

This puts me right by her ear. "Leave now. I will keep this recording private and I will remove you three from the schedule for a… week. Remove whatever you planted and tell your people to leave us be."

She gave me a glare. "Paul is going to break you..." She blanched, her eyes taking in Sophia holding Paul in an arm lock down on his knees with her foot holding his calf down..

Julia is backing away, Paul not being a help. Mai threw in the towel, going limp. "You win. We'll clean up any loose ends. Return to the status quo in a week." It is like I was twisting her arm. Oh, right I should probably let go now.

Sophia sashays back close to sit down and all but put her arm around me.

Paul has this confused look on his face as Sophia steps away. His eyes flick to her ear and then to mine. His features turn dark with suppressed anger. He follows Mai out. Julia watches them go, now fully aware that being 'head' cheerleader is not in fact leading their faction. As she leaves it is clear the rest of the Empire wannabes got up and walked out, dumping trays with food, plates and silverware in the trash. The ABB kids all eat outside or in the gym as a group

Emma breaks the ice with a chuckle. "You know the gossip mill is going to treat it like Sophia defended your 'honor'."

I sigh and shrug off a chuckling Sophia. "That was a mistake. Empire kids will be starting trouble now."

The lunchroom has really gone still. The nerds, the few band kids, neo-Goths and unaligned are standing. There is a smattering of applause with a few salutes. None of them were Nazi, but there were 'live long and prosper' mixed in with surfer horns and a few finger snaps that is like cheering from the second gen Goth movement.

"Welcome to the Kompani." Ship's whisper sounded in my ear, the last word having a tang of pronunciation.

With a shrug I focused on moving up the waiting list for scheduled sessions among those in the red and NOT on the Cheer or Football team. I did not take off anyone but those three. Interesting how there were a number of cancellations that led to them moving up in the list. There is another reason beyond the first to ban them, they've been buying or intimidating their way up to being full time tutored for free.

Catching the eye of Emma I note. "No more opportunity filled cancellations."

Sophia whistled innocently.

"For you I will just have to make an exception for 'crew'." I deadpan back at her.

"Aye." She drawled out.

My ears caught a change in the note of the talk resuming around us as several in the crowd noted the response and calm acquiescence –something out of character for Sophia.

********

After lunch there were a few panicked Football players making sure their spots had not been cut. I had to warn them that if they passed the work they did over to Paul, they would be under scrutiny themselves. Bans could extend. Other names could be added. But if they felt they wanted to repeat what I told them to him, it might help with their own problems in the long run.


"See it. Say it. Do it." I noted. "Those are the best ways to remember. To teach it is just another way to say it."
As the boy moved off, mumbling to himself the last bell for the day rang. Walking out together, Emma and I fell into step with Sophia ahead until we hit the wider sidewalk.

As she matched us stride for stride, she asked. "So, when are we going out?"

I smiled tersely. "First thing we need to do is get some training complete. We may not always have access to the tech base, so rustic versions of first aid need to be cleared. Emma needs to get a smattering of combat training and leadership compared to a lot of engineering." I focus on Sophia, "You and I need a wider breadth of combat arts to avoid being too similar to our civilian identities, and then a smattering of engineering ourselves."

Sophia grunted. "And OpSec. You just blurted out everything in the open."

"Freyja?" I noted.

"As you say Captain, the privacy field is engaged. To any listener, you were speaking about a Canary song you heard."

Snorting, "Does that mean I am banned from going out as Shadow Stalker?"

"No, of course not. But you should be aware that the new tech will be noticed. As will your Brute rating unless you hold back." Emma, acting the voice of reason.

I nodded, but had to put the stick back in sight. "There will be a proficiency test in the coursework I outlined. Fail to meet the milestone and the tech, including the shuttle, is locked out from casual use."

"Okay, Mom… Ow. Ah, Captain." Sophia responded.

I thought I saw a wince and she rubbed her ear thoughtfully. I guess Freyja is not against a little shock to keep discipline in check.

 

[ScottotheUnwise]

Log entry 7 11.25.10 ---------------------------------------------

Thanksgiving snuck up on us just days later. We'd met the pass criterion of the sleep learning programs that we'd requested, and some that Freyja had required. Officer training for one thing. Strangely, Sophia had decided to hold off on outings as Shadow Stalker to get in extra time in the training. It turned out she was an avid combat game fan since she could bust heads in the sims.

Emma and I had invited her over after their family had their meal –their tradition was early so they could watch parades and Football after. The Barnes's waited until five o'clock for the Turkey meal. And then they mostly vegged out.

While Freyja was nowhere near ready to create another craft, she was able to create a holoprojector that could handle showing imagery of us crashed out on the couch watching TV after Sophia 'left'. She just told her parents she was 'staying over' which was code to her mom. It meant it was a cape night.

Ems, bless her heart, had settled on the name 'Gingembre'. I would have preferred if she could just go by 'First Officer', but other than Sophia we didn't really have a second or third, let alone regular crew. She took her name from the French term for an orange cat, which was how her cat 'change' appeared, if just a little darker.

I was sticking to my guns over "Captain" although I adopted a little bit of a lilt to saying it that made it sound, well to be honest, like Chekhov. 'Nuke-lee-are Veapons' ish, but not for all my speech. In any documentation it would be "Keptain" to be consistent.

The bridge of the ship was adjustable, with partitions that were moved aside as needed, the couches were mobile and could be used as beds or configured to chairs for many humanoid options. Or cleared away. Freyja had noted that the last two members of her crew that survived the disaster that sent her to this Earth had lived out their days together in this one room.

The ship was not a Tardis, but it was significantly bigger than the one room.

We were running an impromptu obstacle course around the corridors looping the main disc. Turkey is nice, but with our upgrades and their ability to subsist on tiny amounts of food, we needed a lot of activity to burn the calories we ate at school. I was already getting concerned looks from teachers who thought I was "too thin" for someone my height. Being able to eat a single apple and live on it for days was not helping things. So we had to eat like teenagers and do heavy training just to burn off the extras. It was that or bear the burden of having our systems ah eliminate the extras. Personally I think Freyja might have engineered the situation to get more training time in.

"Freyja, are you sure we couldn't just turn down the metabolism just a hair?" I was not going to admit defeat on this.

The arms being able to pace us from the ceiling had been unnerving at first, but the calm answer held a tone of reproach. "Changing settings on the fly would open up paths to control. The current situation is annoying at best. Compare it to finding yourself without resources after an Endbringer attack."

I hopped over a low drawer she pushed into the hallway. Obstacles. Since I dropped the line of questions she returned to the display of her appropriated historical resources. She was fascinated with history, having amassed a huge equivalent of data from libraries all over the world. If she wasn't so advanced, she would probably have the authorities sniffing all over us by now. But she wasn't using Brockton Bay connections to get all this data, every satellite in line of sight was hers to make use of at will. Ground stations for TV could be probed for information. The internet trunks connecting New York and Boston ran through underground links along the railroad, creating alternate junctions routing in places beyond the Bay was child's play.

I was getting better at this. Not good. Ironically, Emma was a natural. That or the memories of the crew member of feline nature seemed to bleed through when she moved in that format. Something to consider, I suppose. Did the memories of her previous Captain bleed through as well? Captains?

"Freyja, how much of the memory storage I have contains the prior Captain, or is it more than one?"

The hallway cleared of obstacles as she considered.

"The 'Captain' package includes the memory engrams of ninety-one previous Captains, although the last was only a few cycles long. They are accessible on demand of the current Captain, but skills that are drilled to second nature will come forward at subconscious desire."

"Have you looked over the heroes and villains detailed on PHO? Particularly the Butcher?"

Freyja paused significantly. "Ah. While there are surface similarities, it is not the personalities encoded. Physical skills need to be calibrated to the body, the length of the limb and such. At no time will there be a voice in your head."

I chuckled a little at her discomfort. "Just in my earpiece."

Sounding downright British, she answered. "Quite."

****************
Armsmaster's workspace.

"There it is again."

"Colin, you can't still be worrying about an anomaly in global downloads and satellite traffic. We've traced these bursts time and again and they turn into chaos and noise with no real source."

Not pausing in his typing, Colin Wallis, otherwise known to the world as Armsmaster, followed the flow of analytical data from one blind corner of the internet to another. "I'm telling you it has to be some kind of intelligence directing these flows. A sudden uptick of data flows from institutions of higher learning? Petabytes of data going nowhere?"

"If it were actionable, we would be taking action." Dragon noted. "There is no crime as yet, all the data accessed has been found to be public domain."

"Dragon, I think someone out there is using all that data to train an artificial intelligence."

The image on his monitor spluttered, at a loss for words. Then it froze for 2.3 seconds. "That is ridiculous. There have been no known instances of AI lasting more than a few days let alone a month now."

Collin frowned. "Not in a single server or even a server farm. This could be a distributed form of intelligence. That would explain the difficulty in pinning down the movements of libraries worth of information."


****************
The next week drifted over into December. With the Christmas break coming up, and our midterms scheduled just before then, the study group was very popular. Julia and Mai had toed the line and were happily above the redline for being cut for Cheerleading. But others were further down and looked for a way to scrabble out of the red they could. The less forthright of those decided to reduce the curve by cutting out the top end of the test scores.

If you cannot cheat on the tests, find ways to remove the honest good scores.

"Taylor Hebert, report to the Principal's Office."

There were a few smirks from the stoners and wannabe Merchants in the class. Gladly's class, or perhaps Gad-fly as some called him. He started to write out a pass but I simply picked up my backpack and headed for the door.

"Taylor, don't you want to get the assignments?" He asked.

I considered a moment. "Why? I've aced every test you've set us. I have three of your extra credit projects done so I could take a zero off anything you throw at the class." It confused me when he attempted to be a teacher in between his buddy-buddy discussions and waste of time projects.

Moving down the hallway I found there were already several people in the offices, all from one of the math classes, mine.

Blackwood was there with hands on her hips. "So! The ringleader is here at last. Come into my office, young woman. Sit."

I came in and sat, not concerned for all her air of smug certainty. "What do you mean, ma'am?"

"Oh, can it with that act. I have sixteen test papers with exactly the same answers, all of them ninety eight out of one hundred and they all belong to your study group! Cheating."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really? From the same class group? Sitting together?" At her faltering look among her papers. "If this is about the Calculus I exam on Monday, it was from problems given in the homework. We were allowed note sheets as long as they were handwritten. Yes my group had nearly identical note sheets –but that is hardly a reason to accuse them of cheating."

She firms up and waves a ruler at me. "Don't give me lip!" She smiled menacingly. "The ones who didn't cheat turned you in."

"Yes. Let me guess, those in the lower sixties results would rather be graded as C work instead of failing." I note. "And you choose to believe them over straight A students, why?"

She blinked then doubled down. "I could have you expelled." Okay, waving big guns now.

"At this time I would like to have my Guardians brought in. You are charging into lawsuit territory already by threatening me with a weapon." I gesture at the ruler. "Throwing my academic standing in question purely on the strength of hearsay. Has Mr. Jenkins been consulted for his opinion on this nonsense?"

"Donald Jenkins was let go this very afternoon. His inability to control his baser urges around female students has been documented…"

I stood up then. "I see." I take a step to and open the door to the office. "You have chosen to embrace the insanity rather than reexamine faulty assumptions."

"Get back in here!"

"No, I think that is not going to happen." I reached for the door. "Not without parental guidance, or at least counsel."

She drew herself up like a bandy little rooster. "Fine then! You are expelled. Leave school property immediately. Paperwork will be sent to your home of residence."

I was already walking out.

What I did not expect was for a group of students to be following me off campus. Emma and Sophia, sure, but Julia? Madison? Mai? Paul? Half the football team was there already and they were quick to assure us that the rest were being gathered up.

Emma gestured at her phone. "I have Dad on the way. He is gathering up a few colleagues, one is already contacting Mr. Jenkins, offering to represent him to the School Board inquiry."

Sophia held up her phone. "Mom is calling in the press. We should have a news van here…" She snorted and pointed. "About now."

I could see several of the Cheerleaders primping on the chance they could be on camera.

Emma held out the phone for me to hear Alan talking. "You can talk to the press but do not give any opinion on Blackwell herself or how she does her job. Stick to the facts."

Fine then. "What about a recording of what she said to me in the office?"

"You recorded it?" He sounded impressed.

I just smiled a little as I saw Mai hold out a hand to Julia who passed over a twenty. "Told you."

"Excuse me!" A woman in a sharp business suit with a microphone in hand approached. "Channel Six. Are you the young woman accused of ma… Cut. Give me a sec hon. Are you the young woman wrongfully accused of leading a cheating ring? Our tips line says there are accusations that a set of test answers were shared among the students of a ga-group led by Taylor Herbert."

Sighing. "Hebert. Only one R in there please." I pause a beat. "I am not in fact sure of what they were accusing. The principal fired our Calculus teacher after our study group got excellent scores on Calculus midterms. The test rules allowed a single hand printed note sheet, which we each wrote out our own copy but yes it was a shared effort in creation. That is the definition of 'study group', isn't it?" I gesture to the kids lined up in solidarity –or the chance to be on air–

"If anything, the fact that sixteen of us scored all but one correct should be cause for celebration. But that is not what is happening." I gesture back to the school. "And since I would not immediately confess to the charge of cheating, I have been expelled."

She nodded at the correct times and the mike swiveled back to her. "All without an investigation? You were questioned without a parent present? Shocking developments at Winslow High School, back to you John."

We repeated this same line for two other outlets, one a print newspaper –okay so they published electronically as well as print– with similar results. The one did try to angle the camera to show all the non-white kids behind me rather than the Cheerleaders and Football team stars. I noted it and signed for Emma and Sophia to shuffle them into frame. When he said cheating, the camera pointed not at me but at Sophia. Right.

It was starting to get dark, afternoons ended quickly with mountains starting just west of the city, when the school superintendent showed up.

Uncle Alan was right there chatting him up as he approached.

"Alan here says you have a recording of what went on in the office itself. That would not be admissible in court…"

"Really? It is a public place." Emma noted. "With no expectation of privacy. They have cameras in the halls –if they still worked."

The man seemed to grind his teeth for a moment, then continued smoothly. "I suppose. Can you email me a copy at this email address?"

"Easily." Alan took the card, but my enhanced vision had already picked it up and I was typing it into the 'To' field on the phone itself. Alan noted further, "You understand that should Taylor be expelled, her college expectations and eventual career could be derailed. That is a large monetary loss."

I hit send on the email, laughing to myself slightly. Freyja had created the phone after all, and it wasn't like it was limited to the quality of other phones or the tiny bandwidth available to normal cellular…

Oh.

Well shit.

Might have just outed ourselves there.

*********************

"Hellooo." Dragon's voice spoke up from her usual humming as she worked.

Armsmaster perked up, shutting off the miniature welding rig he was using. "Do you have something?"

"One of those bursts of data just happened. And it coincides with a rather detailed video being entered into evidence on a school board server."

Frowning, "You monitor school board servers?"

She chuckled. "My systems host many of them at a discount. And this is a cell phone video recording that seems to be five times larger than usual. More pixels per frame, more frames per second. Dedicated CCD cameras are uncommon at this resolution. Oh, it even manages to have true stereo channels in the audio." She paused. "The time stamp is also a little odd. It isn't synched to the cell towers. That is very interesting."

Armsmaster waited. "Something else?"

"No. it just looks like Winslow will be getting a new principal soon."

"Already? Is that a record?"

"Sadly, no. The shortest tenure was a week, but suicide shouldn't count."

"Suicide." Rolling his eyes now. "The BBPD officer who investigated that incident noted the man shot himself three times."

********************

It wasn't two days later that Winter Break was supposed to start. I got extra time in training, and to be honest there was nothing missed that could really affect my grades going on. That Friday, Ex-Principal Blackwell was escorted off school property. And they were looking for the kids that had made up the story about the cheating. She somehow forgot to document who they were.

Calling it a phone tree would be using dated terms but that was what it was in fact. Julia called Emma after checking in with others. I hadn't been at school of course, but Emma and Sophia had. Sophia had been oblivious, checked out watching her video feed on her contacts.

Too bad Freyja didn't consider that against my orders for no 'Ship' stuff during school hours. As long as it was training, education of some sort was allowed at the place of education. Her firm opinions on the curriculum showed.

When Emma got home with Sophia in tow, we went to the Dojo again. Sophia was just about teaching some of the classes. For my sins of extreme patience, I got to teach one of the classes of youngsters.

But as we were getting back into our streetwear Emma brought up the calls going around the phone lists.

"Madison was seen coming to school but never made it to second period." She sounded nervous. "Her phone goes straight to voicemail. None of our friend apps can find her location. Julia tried her home phone and Maddie's parents haven't seen her either. They are, to put it bluntly, freaked."

"Last seen at the school." Sophia noted. "First place to look." She gave me a look.

"I suppose we do have to go out eventually." I noted. "And checking in on someone from the group who is missing makes sense."

Freyja clearly agreed. On my own contact I could see a path of a cell phone traced back over several days. It did come to the school and then seemed to wink out. There was a brief ping a block away and then nothing –and this was at nine AM this morning, well after the first bell.

Emma leaned in. "Are we going like this or fully kitted out?"

I smiled fully, letting out all the tension in my shoulders. We needed this.

"Time to dress for the job you want."

Emma and Sophia high fiving was a little out of decorum.

"Nothing for it but to tell the rents we are going to the theater." I said.

"Nerd." followed by "Ow. Worth it." Sophia may actually like the shocks.

**************************

"Someone!" the wail echoed in the cold empty school. Bang, bang. Her shoe against the steel door. "Let me out of here!"

Covered in soot from the door to the old coal pen behind the furnace in the basement of Winslow, Madison Clements could just see the lantern they'd left in the other room. Her phone was sitting there next to it, the battery out next to it.

The double-door was locked by a metal chair leg wedged through the handles. They'd left her like that.

Narc.

Stoolie.

They said she was the one that turned them in for making up the cheating ring. Her fault they would be expelled for real. So, if she liked school so much, she could live out her remaining hours there. They'd laughed and left candles here and there on the floor or on steps or on the table.

And they'd left her. With a steel can full of wood burning to keep her warm. But they'd also closed the flume, taped the windows and had sprayed expanding foam around the doors. She could feel the carbon monoxide building up in the room. The floor candles had gone out first after about an hour. They hadn't burned down, they'd just gone out.

And she'd been banging on the walls and things all day. No answer.

The janitors had left by midday and never came down to the basement if they could help it.

She was so tired. But there was nowhere to lay down that wasn't the floor. She was sure the carbon monoxide was filling the room by now, getting higher as time went on.

Another candle went out.

The batteries on the lantern dimmed.

Madison cringed as she saw there were spiders climbing up the walls, roaches coming out of cracks and moving up any way they could.

There were roaches ON HER.

*************************

My costume was basically the ship uniform, gold on top and darker pants that sealed into the suit. Unlike the Star Trek similarities our uniform did have sort of a helmet affair, that was more or less a bike helmet made with thinner material with a built in clear visor. There was enough electronics packed in there to make Armsmaster sweat should he ever get a good look.

I had a 'Fleet standard' sidearm, like a bronze colored ergonomic computer mouse made of metal. There was even a ball near the thumb. It locked to my suit at the waist –or anywhere I chose to leave it on the costume.

Differences were there. My hair was changed to the white format, locked into tight curls that made it appear much shorter in a ponytail. Skin is gray with the full changes in effect.

The gloves were fingerless, showing my nails that were a solid ivory shade.

Emma was in a purple topped equivalent, her red hair even more wild and spiky than ever. Cat ears sized up with red fur on them. Her face and neck showed a fringe of striped red fur with a little white at the throat, the 'prosthetic' red fur tail attached from the inside of her suit, moving with her like a pendulum. Her bike helmet was almost lost in that hair of hers. She had fingerless gloves showing cat fur 'fingers' with clawed tips. Her toes showed through her 'shoes'.

Shadow Stalker had on her dark costume, the material upgraded to the same stuff as the ship materials, cut to look more like a jacket over the top of her red ship suit top. Her boltcaster was clipped to her shoulder, but her mouse-like sidearm was integrated to the handgrip of the boltcaster.

We'd each chosen a mode of travel to use. I got flight as Freyja had more than enough power to keep me in the air, if I wasn't as fast as some capes could go. Gingembre –Emma– would parkour and run, being able to lock onto the wall by foot or hand, her weight dropping to negligible amounts as she moved. Shadow Stalker would still run and leap but now she could also shoot out a grapple line that would anchor using gravity tech and reel her into the bolt's location. Or she could swing from the line. Or she could lock her boltcaster into place midair and swing or rappel down from it. Clearly she had the most options for movement among us three.

*****************
Miss Militia.

The Merchants were angry over something or other. They didn't often push south out of the Docks toward the more central areas of Brockton. But here they were, making themselves a nuisance all the way down to … Winslow?

That made no sense.

Miss Militia shrugged. Merchants rarely made any sense anyway.

So she monitored from building tops and made notes about where they were moving, sending a text to the police so they could respond in force. There were no capes visible, yet. Velocity was helping her reposition while he scouted the edges of the movement and checked the other gang ranges.

Or maybe that was premature as she saw a group of younger female capes.

That was different. The Protectorate had seen Shadow Stalker before, but never with a Team? She wasn't much of a socializer. Or a talker. Raising binoculars up she zeroed in on the most interesting item to her military mindset. It was a crossbow if you squinted. It bore looking into if the thing was sold anywhere she might be able to duplicate it.

And then there were the two girls with her. A flying gray girl with white hair. A cat girl Changer bouncing along as if she had little or no weight. Those two had matching costumes color shifted.

Item: Shadow Stalker was wearing something under her jacket that matched as well. One of them is a Tinker?

...They were also heading to Winslow. Joy.

"Console, this is Militia. The Merchant rank and file are coming down past Winslow heading toward the north end of the Boardwalk. And I've just spotted Shadow Stalker out after a month absent. She has two new cape friends. Description follows…"

***********************

It was full dark now. December weather. The barrel of wood had burned low to just a slight glow, now giving off more smoke than heat or light.

And she was so tired.

She barely cared that the bugs were using her to stay above the carbon monoxide. Roaches mostly. Flies. Spiders climbed all about, but they could go higher and did so.

Shivering, even with the insulation of all the roach bodies across her skin, Madison clung to hope.

The room was spinning.

And she was falling.

SHE WAS GOING TO DIE!

[DESTINA…
********************

We'd reached Winslow proper. Shadow Stalker ghosted her way in and opened a door from the inside. There was a smell, like creosote in the building.

"Freyja, can you scan for life signs or something?"

"There is life everywhere my captain. But if you mean Hume there is very little to detect in this area. None on the floors above you. I would suggest moving downward."

Since the comms were on I knew the other two had heard that. "Down we go ladies."

We'd barely reached the chair locked double-doors to the basement when Sophia nearly dropped like her strings were cut. It was just a moment really. She was standing straight again and waved us off as she scanned around for threats.

"Gingembre, cut the lock."

Emma laughed and used her claws to cut the chains. It was a function of the tech in the false fingers and claws, but it still managed to get a whistle out of Stalker.

"Kind of wish I'd had that option." She noted. "Course I would forget and scratch my nose. Does your nose itch?" She added sweetly.

She waltzed past Emma who was now visibly restraining herself from scratching at an itchy nose.

As the door opened a veritable swarm of bugs flew out. Mostly German Cockroaches, moths, flies and gnats. Then a wave of spiders ran across the walls and out. I was somewhat glad to be able to fly. Emma was balanced on one toe, her weight reduced to a feather to avoid them.

"Behind you, Keptain." Emma squeaked as Freyja alerted on the HUD.

I turned, hand weapon at the ready, to find the swarm of bugs forming into a humanoid shape. It turned into a girl –into Madison.

Shit.

She triggered.

"Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod." She was saying. Over and over. She pointed at me, "Famine.", then Stalker, "Death." and then to Emma "War?" Looking down at her own self covered still in roaches of five kinds and spiders mixed in. "Does that make me Pestilence?"

We three looked at her as she began to have a panic attack, then at each other and in unison shook our heads "NO".

I took the lead on talking. "Not part of the Four Horsemen, no." I point at myself. "Keptain." wave to Stalker.

"Shadow Stalker. Sup?"

To Emma.

"Gingembre. Nyan!" She made an air claw pose that would fit right in in Anime.

"Are you all capes?" Madison asked tentatively.

Sophia answered. "Duh, yeah we are."

"Heroes?" She squeaked.

I rolled my eyes. "We aren't villains."

She smiled now. "That's good because it would be a shame to roll on people in the study group…"

"Whut?" Deer in headlights moment for me.

"Taylor, Emma and Sophia. Come on, you totally can't think some gray body paint, fur and even a mask would hide you from someone who hangs out with you. I'm the cute one, not the dumb one."

"It would be advised to not use civilian names. Captain, there is someone entering the main hallway doors." Freyja noted out loud.

"Who said that?" Madison buzz squeaked. Her form writhed and she was made up partially of wasps and ants as well as roaches for a moment.

"Visor, now." I state. The small flash of light leaves a bike helmet like ours with the visor attached. "Put this on and stay bug-like so you won't be recognized."

Madison accepted the helmet, pushing it on easily. All our visors went slightly smoky as the lights in the halls came on. A group of people strode around the corner led by --well I would say 'pimp' but that would be racist. Gaudy. Obnoxious. Oblivious to dress and hygiene standards? Faux Cheetah fur trim and bedazzle in excess of recommended sane levels?

A flamboyant black male voice rang out.

"Greetings, dick schnizzles and douchbags! Skidmark is IN the House!"

 

[ScottotheUnwise]

Log entry 7.1 Supplemental 11.25.10 ---------------------------------------------

"The girl should be in the basement, boss!" Front boy was talking. He looked almost big enough to be on the football team, but probably cut because of the juice based on the muscles in his arms showing. He looked like a mocha version of Popeye without the squint.

Skidmark nodded and waved the high schooler to silence. "Quiet down. The adults are ready to speak."

A high pitched woman's voice doing a fair New Jersey accent came over the walkie talkie in Skidmark's left hand. "Skids baby, we got maybe five before the white hats swarm the place."

Looking past the three of us to Madison. "Swarm you say? That sounds like a legit name. You up for a party, girl? Ditch the posers and come to the dark side we have the special cookies." He leered at Madison a bit. Ewww.

Oh, Changer girl was upsizing her measurements. In bugs.

"Did you all just let the girl out or do these idiots have to take a fall?" He gestured back and three kids were pulled to the front of the Merchants, tied up and gagged. Ah the cheaters who had locked Madison up.

"We three came to let her out but found Pestilence here had already done so. Not Swarm…" I turn to give Madison a look. "Not unless she wants to go willingly with you Merchants?"

Maddie shook her head 'no', closing her eyes and balling fists.

Everyone else in the area flinched or drew back a notch from the flung roaches and beetles that flew out of her mass. Gross.

When she opened her eyes again a layer of ladybugs surfaced on her face and then all the flung roaches and such winged it back to her main body. She saw the reactions and chuckled a little. "Maybe just Pest for now."

"Right, right." Skidmark considered. "Are you going to fight us?" He almost seemed eager.

Shadow Stalker was eager as well but paused to look at me. The tiny bit of smoke coming from the ear with the earring suggested Freyja had made it known to follow my lead.

"I think not. You can leave those three and we will relay that the Merchants don't attempt murder in schools. We have not seen any crimes committed by Merchants beyond a mild trespass."

Mr. Forearms spoke up again. "Boss, we got the numbers!"

Waving a hand back and forth in front of his mouth, Skids did a "Zzzz-zi-zi-ZIPP-IT!" That was a callback to 'Fifth Element' –a film my parents loved as much as I did 'Princess Bride'-- Chris Tucker's voice and mannerisms in many ways, all things considered.

And then he opened his mouth again, shifting to the street trash talk he was famous for. "Fuck nuggets don't talk or they soon won't walk!" He thumbed a coin into the air over his shoulder, and we could see a field come into existence behind him, angled back toward…

"Ah! Shit…" As the coin slammed into his foot he eyeballed Skidmark warily as that (un)worthy jingled a handful of quarters.

"Back it you pack of blue waffle snafflers!" He spat. "All yours to pass along to the shinies. Watch out or they will have you by the short hairs. Skidmark OUT!"

He did something and someone in the second row back started playing music out of an outsized 80's boombox –yes, movies have shown me ancient tech. He strutted out without a backward glance, though I did note another few fields popping into place on the floor, and above it as his 'men' scrambled to the edges for him to pass, then quick marched along the edge of the halls. Other fields formed along those edges.

The three tied up students were dropped on the floor in the middle. They started to spin on the floor from the fields, one had a leg off to the side and was shot toward us.

Shadow Stalker put a foot out to keep him from being launched through the doors leading down to the basement.

A moment later I had to catch another. The last one was almost out of the three field areas entirely and ended up on his back looking up at Gingembre.

She waved at him, showing her claws extending past fingertips by an inch or more.

"Follow him and his crew out, Shadow Stalker. Make sure he leaves without tearing down the school." I note.

Still a little aggressive minded, Sophia fades through the walls on one side and makes her way to an outside window.

Madison spoke up. "So, Shadow Stalker I've heard of. What are your cape names again?"

"Gingembre."

"Keptain."

She smiled and I was going to have to drink brain bleach over what I saw in her 'mouth'. "Pleased to meetcha."

Freyja took the opportunity to point out. "Armsmaster is inbound with a van of PRT. Miss Militia is acting as overwatch and is busy trying to watch an overlarge yet thoroughly invisible vehicle that is fading from my sensors. I would need satellite coverage using my era's technology or to be in an overwatch position above the city myself to track it." Sounding smug, she added. "She is reporting they are leaving the area and gone from sight."

Gingembre pointed to the hall. "Skidmark's fields aren't gone yet. How do we get her through them?"

Pest grunted. Her body separated into thousands of bugs. Roaches, beetles, moths, wasps. The mass flew down the hall past the fields, only a tenth of them coming back along the edges or thrown around in the eddies. Those simply reformed into a secondary cloud following the first.

On the other end of the hall Pest reformed but took a few half drunk steps, off balance.

"Wow. That was a rush."

Considering how much of her was swirled around beyond the movement vector itself, I probably would have been puking my guts out. Well, before Freyja got ahold of me.

"Let's go!" Gingembre jumped up a wall, got one claw set in the ceiling and swarmed her own way to the junction where Pest was waiting. It looked like her tail swirled a bit, but nothing special.

I flew up and moved down the hall sedately. Okay my image did. Freyja pulled me inside to keep from having to cover for me getting nauseated. Even so I felt the ship shift left and right from the eddies she crossed. The three cheaters were beamed aboard, with cloth bags added over their heads as they lay there.

Landing, and being beamed back out had Pest squinting at me oddly.

"Did you just..?" She waved at where the three were not showing anymore.

I tutted her. "Powers. Not sharing, thank you. The Protectorate is coming, right outside the main doors. They don't know who you are and you probably shouldn't tell them. Unless you want to go Wards that is." I wagged a finger. "But you should not give out any information on OUR civilian identities either."

"Right. Unwritten Rules." She made a zipping of lips motion. Right, Madison is a cape geek. Joy.

A loudspeaker halted all conversation. "You in the school. Come out peacefully or there will be …trouble."

Oh lord, save me from 80's movie fanatics. Robocop?! Really?

The man, the motorcycle, the line of armed Troopers with muzzles trained on the doors.

We walked up to the front doors without dawdling.

I opened it slightly. "We are coming out. There will be no fighting. We responded to a tip that there was a student trapped inside. We have three students –or perhaps ex-students by now– who put the girl in jeopardy."

Pest looked around confused. "We do?"

Armsmaster's voice reached us. Was he REALLY speaking to the empty fist like he was holding a megaphone? "Come out and we can talk amicably. How many of you are there?"

"Three here." I stepped through the door cautiously, showing my empty hands as I walked down the steps. "Shadow Stalker was watching Skidmark leave the area."

"Skidmark was here?" Armsmaster seemed unamused. "And you didn't try to arrest him?"

As Gingembre and Pest filed out and stood on either side of me facing him, a step up yet only barely my height.

My height seemed to catch his attention as he unconsciously adjusted his stance.

"Skidmark was there to check on the welfare of the girl these three left trapped in the basement." I pointed to the side and Freyja obligingly beamed the three out. They seemed to sense the sudden change in the air and sat up. The way they tried to mumble out curses said it all.

This seemed to tense up Armsmaster, but the Troopers were more than happy to have something else to focus on.

"And where is the girl?" He asked, anger starting to brim as he waved the Troopers in to process the three.

Pest jumped into the gap. "I let her free BEFORE the others arrived, before Skidmark showed up. But I got her story. She's probably already home or nearly there. Since there were no capes involved, she will be contacting the police directly."

"Who are you all?"

Madison did a sort of twirl in a circle, only it was her top turning at first and then the rest just sort of turned in a spiral without quite matching the rest. It was unnerving. "I'm Pestilence, or you can call me Pest. My friends do." She grinned at me and Gingembre.

"Gingembre." Emma waved her clawed hand slightly as she really leaned into the French accent.

I shook my head at their antics. "Keptain, with a 'K'. The Scandinavian version." I add the last and see someone taking note scramble to erase and rewrite the names taken down.

"Hero, Villain or Rogue?" He growled.

"We just met Pest tonight, but Shadow Stalker, Gingembre and I are, shall we say, not villains." As I completed that statement he relaxed a notch.

"You are school aged it seems. The Wards offers a comprehensive education in the use of powers in a socially approved setting. Although you appear to have already formed some kind of team, there is statistically danger of being inducted forcibly into the gangs." He turned to his motorcycle and tapped a compartment three times which released pamphlets for each of us present.

"You should be aware as well that although you have clean records, Shadow Stalker is being monitored for cases of assault with a Parahuman power in excess of approved levels." He added quiet enough to be unheard by the Troopers still moving around.

"Anything in the last month or so?" I asked honestly.

He shook his head in the negation. "She has not been seen active in the past month. There was honestly a worry that she had met a bad end already."

I took the offered pamphlets. "I will discuss the option with my girls. We were considering several before we found ourselves needing to come out tonight. I believe there is also an 'Associate' category?" Turning the last word into a question, I felt out my preferred choice.

"You have been checking your sources in detail if you found the footnote pertaining to that. It is unlikely that your parents will agree to the stipulations involved for underaged Associate status." He seemed to smile a little there.

"Really? And why would we involve our parents?" Gingembre spoke up. "After all, we are offering to help, not committing crimes."

"Do your parents know what you are doing? Are they aware that you have powers?"

I wagged a finger then. "And that is far too much personal information to give. I think it is time to cut the evening short. Goodbye, Armsmaster."

He held up a hand. "Wait!"

I flew upward, one hand catching Gingembre by hers. The reality was we were both in Freyja by that point, but my image appeared to tow her along below me as we swooped away.

*********************

Armsmaster was left with Pest, who was watching the two go.

"So cool…" Pest intoned. Then she started as she noticed Armsmaster tapping an armored foot. "Oh, yeah. Um School night, got to go!" She made sure to speak in a lower octave than her regular voice.

The woman-shape in front of him dissolved into a mass of bugs that scattered in multiple directions.

Gone.

"What was your impression of them, Dragon?" He asked. After years of having her work with him, he could tell when she was directly monitoring his systems.

Her avatar formed up in the corner of the view of his HUD. "They seem very well equipped for starting parahumans. Except Pestilence, who seemed to be a fresh trigger."

As he mounted his motorcycle, he flicked the autopilot on and set a destination to HQ, while staying near the Trooper transport. "I want to review the footage we have of them. Did you notice a flicker of light when the three Merchants were materialized?"

Dragon's avatar nodded. "I am actually interested in those last few seconds as Pestilence disperses. She was clearly human there with a covering of insects to make her seem larger, but as that layer peeled back her human portions turned into bugs as well. I'm not sure if that makes her a Master or Changer –or both."

As they passed the side street a rather large monster truck that had been idling behind a gas station pulled out. Sometimes the best kind of invisibility was just not doing things in front of the authorities.

"Kids didn't mix it up with the Protectorate pukes. But they didn't fall all over themselves to jump in bed with the Wards neither." He folded his arms and leaned back. "Executive decision time! Hands off those four! Unless they get up all in my biz-ness they aren't my biz-ness. Are we GREEN?"

Squealer in the driver's seat and the three piled into the jump seat all echoed back as one. "Super Green!"

Squealer knew that look. Time to dig out the stewardess outfit –or maybe the Lelu one. Either way, Skids was happy to have skipped the heat generated by any of his crew doing something stupid involving school. That was a metric fuck ton of heat. Involving a Ward aged girl was worse. FOUR of them? Nope, nope all the motherfucking nope. Clearly it was time to lay low a week or so and just vibe.

The three in the backseat groaned lightly as he reached for the sound system. Not that music again? The beginning strains of Opera music building covered any untoward noises.

*********************

As the Trooper vehicle and Armsmaster's motorcycle left Winslow's parking areas, Hannah Washington relaxed, letting her power-made rifle shift from a sniper rifle to something more discrete.

Stretching, she turned and noted the wall to her right had someone sitting there quietly. Shadow Stalker!

"Sup."

Taking a calming breath, Miss Militia answered. "Sneaking up on an armed parahuman, even a Hero, is not the best plan in the world."

"Figured you knew I was there." Shrugs eloquently. "I can ghost out as fast as I ghosted in." Suiting her statement, the young cape turned to smoke then reformed a foot or so forward in a standing position. "Couple things you should pass along. Keptain runs the show. She got my loyalty for saving my ass. With healing technology. I know how rare that is, especially with all the other things that we have and may eventually share. That's free. Keep the tether loose or she could just <poof> back to where she came from."

"Back?" Hannah had a moment to question it, but this time Shadow Stalker's cloudy form was moving down through the rooftop.

And she's gone.

That would get old very quickly. Now Hannah felt sorry for chewing out Aegis for the missed encounters to pitch the Wards.

Come to think of it, she was no doubt about to get the same kind of dressing down. At least Colin will be right there next to her.

*******************

At the Weiss Bierhalle on the western side of downtown, two men were sitting together waiting for a third to come back from returning some rented beer.

Alabaster was retelling his epic destruction of a certain thorn in their side. He'd been crowing over putting a bullet in that vigilante Shadow Stalker. The fact that the rank and file had not had any trouble with the fierce little thing was why he'd been getting free beers the past two weeks. The first week he'd had to settle for a few kudos or cheers.

Victor started sniggering to himself. He was checking things on PHO, having his phone ready for a call even on a night off was important. And there was a thread showing Shadow Stalker seen quite alive in the vicinity of Winslow High School this very evening.

"It seems someone has been boasting about an achievement they did not accomplish." He showed his phone to Brad, "What do you think of that?"

Alabaster sputtered his beer. "WhAaat?!" Thinking fast he drained the remainder of the stein. "I did at least wing her. That's miles better than you've been able to do, vigilante or Hero. That has to be worth something!"

He was up, backing away from the muscled man cracking knuckles as he advanced.

"Don't run from me John." Brad smiled. "You know this will take longer if you run." Turning aside, he noted that Victor was pulling out the harness with the chain from behind the bar.

"Gentlemen … and Ladies" He saluted Cricket on her lonely barstool with one empty on either side. "Herr Ala… hrhrrum John here owes everyone who stood him a round, a punch or two in recompense for his idle bragging."

Cornered, John was soon tied up in a bag-like harness with just his head showing, hanging from a convenient nail in the rafters as the people lined up to punch him. Yes, he reset after a handful of seconds, but he wasn't immune to pain.

But he could ride the wave of these pansies until Brad decided it was his turn.

"You hit like a girl!" He crowed.

And then Cricket got up. Melony did not pull her punches.

Spinning wildly, John amended his further comment. "I mean he hit almost as hard as Melony. ALMOST!"

For that the scarred woman stopped his spinning a moment to splash beer in his face. But she immediately set him spinning the other way as she moved back to her place.