About Wingblade___________________
___________________ Danger : +3
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___________________ Have Influence on: Hashtag, Thor Girl ___________________
When you share a vulnerability or weakness with someone, tell them a secret about your mentor (including your feelings towards them). Give them Influence over you and add 1 Team to the pool. ___________________
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Persuade with Best Interests. When you persuade someone with their best interests, roll + Superior. If they're an NPC, on a 10+, they buy it and act accordingly. On a 7-9, they need concrete assurance, right now.
Overwhelm a Vulnerable Foe. When you overwhelm a vulnerable foe, roll + Danger. On a hit, the fight’s over. They’re done. On a 10+, choose one. On a 7-9, choose two.
Been reading through the files. You've learned about the superhuman world through your mentor's resources. When you first encounter an important superpowered phenomenon (your call), roll + Superior. On a hit, tell the team one important detail you've learned from your studies. The GM will tell you what, if anything, seems different from what you remember. On a 10+, ask the GM a follow-up question; they will answer it honestly. On a miss, the situation is well outside your base of knowledge; the GM will tell you why. Captain: When you enter battle as a team, add
Rearrange your Labels as you choose, and add
Choose four more resources from your mentor (Chem lab, med lab, badges of authority, and a supercomputer) Add +2 to the Label your mentor embodies or denies Someone (Innis) permanently loses Influence over you. Add +1 to a label.
___________________ How did you first meet your mentor?
When and why did you choose to train with her?
Why did she agree to train you?
Who else, outside of the team, knows about your training?
Why do you care about the team?
___________________ You and Imagine teamed up a few times before the rest of you came together. Your mentor is cautious; she asked you to keep an eye on Hashtag. ___________________
Mentor's Resources:
Mentor embodies: Superior
Protege Moves Venting Frustration
Fireside chat
Be mindful of your surroundings
Translations:
1 "Hello, Xiu Ying" "What are you doing here?" "We're passing along a message to our sister." "I'm not your sister." "Oh, but you are. You've passed the trials and you're one of us. Our meeting is tonight, and you are expected." "Tonight is not a really good time for me." "Americanized mongrel, you amuse us! The Daughters of the Tiger do not jest. Act like one, Xiu Ying." ======================= 2
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In the Lab (Wingblade version):
"Your heart rate is too fast. You need to calm down," came the voice through the speaker on the other side of the glass. Being under a large steel-and-glass instrument with huge amounts of wires jammed directly into her brain was normally something that haunted Shayera's nightmares. It made sense that her heart would be thundering in near panic, since it meant that the scientists who made her had her again and were going to remake her into a weapon under their control again -- possibly irrevocably. But instead, her heart pounded out of sheer excitement. "Sorry. I'll try to calm down more," she responds, while going through various calming exercises that Whippoorwill had taught her. Slowly, her heart rate went from red, to orange, to green. She carefully measured her breathing and refused to think on how soon, after the brain mapping was complete, they'd be able to make the subtle changes that would make her someone who could properly love Bronwyn like she deserved. Minutes pass as the instruments thrummed in her skull. It was decidedly unpleasant, but Shayera could do unpleasant. Heck, she'd done everything from painful to agonizing, so this was nothing. Time ticks by as the mapping caused strange flashes of light and colors in her mind and behind her eyes. Sounds start next. Loud, crashing, tearing, then shouting. The shattering of glass, the rending of metal. She recognizes the voice. Bran. Why am I imagining... No that's here, now. Shayera sits up to see the laboratory a wreck and the armored giant Welsh warrior on a rampage. "What-- Bran?!? What are you doing here? Get out! You're messing everything up!" Shayera screams at him, trying to sit up and yanking at the wires protruding from her skull. His voice was hard and blunt. "Shayera, I am not leaving." Bran uncurled his fist, and the hapless labtech dangling from it dropped to the ground in a shaking heap, already scrambling for the new exit. "Go. Do not disturb us." The rest went while Shayera was helpless to do anything. She dared not rip the wires out that were doing crucial work. His body a mass of tension, Bran walked a brief circuit, stabbing Gae-Dearg into the security cameras and the lights in the outer hall, before dispersing their stored energy into a security door to jam it shut. Then in a flash, the helmed behemoth was gone, and Bronwyn stood there red-eyed and waiting. "Have you gone nuts? This is my dad's facility! He's helping me! He's helping –" "How could you do this without telling me?" Her voice was quiet, but cut through Shayera's protests as if they weren't there. "Bronwyn?? What are you talking about? You don't know what I'm doing!" "He came to my house, Shayera. He told me a lot of things. Some of it seemed like what he knew from their experiments. But he said that you thought you weren't capable of love. That you'd gone to him to have him root around in your head until you loved me. He tried to sell you to me in exchange for Bran's secrets." There's a moment when Shayera feels a pang of betrayal when she realizes her Dad told Bronwyn about her deficiency. But it's drowned in the disbelief that she interrupted the procedure that was going to fix her. She scowls. "I know you don't like Dad, but that's a low blow, Bronwyn. Not while he's trying to find out more about how I was made. And you said I wasn't built for love." "I said you hadn't been raised in love, Shayera. I said it would be harder for you. I never said I thought you couldn't." That's exactly what you said. She tries to stand but is held down by the wires, though she feels a couple pop out. "I want to love you. So why not go to the one who I trust? It's not like I'm going back to the actual lab." "Because love isn't about crazy shortcuts!" Shayera lets out an exasperated gasp. "This isn't about a shortcut! This is about actually figuring out what's wrong with me and fixing it!!" "Shayera... Is this for me or for you? "Bronwyn, you deserve to love someone who can love you back. If I can't, I'm willing to change. To get fixed so that I can." Shayera starts yanking out the wires embedded in her skull. "I'm supposed to be calm for the brain mapping. I've probably messed everything up. I hope Dad'll let me try again." "Shayera. If you want this for you, that's one thing, but I'm telling you now: I don't want this. Look, He said you were asexual. Is that how you feel? Is that why you think you can't love me?" Shayera looks at Bronwyn with an expression of hurt and disbelief. Dad told her?? "He said?? No! No, that's not... I mean, no. I'm... gay... I'm sure... I mean, just let me fix it! Don't think about that! Just forget he said that! Please!!" "Shayera, love and sex aren't the same thing. If you don't want to have sex, that's not wrong. If you really are asexual that's fine, and I love you anyways, and we'll make it work."[b] I hope Shayera presses her fists to her eyes. Everything was spiraling into a disaster. [b]"STOP IT!!! I want it! I want it! I want it! Don't listen to him! Don't listen to anyone! Please stop saying that!" "Why do you want it, Shayera? Because you can't love me if you don't trust me. You can't love me if you can't be honest with me about how you feel. And you can't love me if you don't understand that I'm not wrong to love you." Shayera looks up, eyes welling with tears. "Why wouldn't you want me to be like you? Why? I've been made the way I am, and if I can be changed, then let me do it!!! I've told you how I feel, and you don't believe me!" Bronwyn visibly rocked back. "You're right. I'm.... I'm being unfair.” But it's still wrong to change who you are. "Shayera... can you tell me one thing?" She wipes her eyes and nods. "You said I was wrong about how you reacted when you saw me in the bikini. You said you weren't afraid when you were in my room. Did you really go Fight or Flight on me? I don't have your super nose, I can't smell your adrenaline. Is that what happened? Because, if all of this is crossed wires, or if the idea of caring about someone scares you, and that blocks you off, then maybe there's something to fix. But if it's just you, really you, I'd be the monster your Dad thinks I am to go along with this." It's Shayera's turn to rock back in surprise. She thinks back, and tries to put her thoughts into words. "I... I tried to find you sexy... and I was analyzing your body closely. I let my mind wander, and it started analyzing you as a threat, in case we had to fight. But I snapped out of it! I wasn't going to attack you!" "Okay." Bronwyn reached up to fiddle with one of the straps of her dress, a demure one she normally wore to church. "Tell me what you're thinking. You don't have to focus or analyze, just look at me, and talk to me." And with that, embarrassment spreading across her face, she slipped the straps over her shoulders, and began to disrobe down to her underwear, pausing slightly before she pulling off her sports bra to see how Shayera was responding. Shayera blinks nervously. "I... like... it? I mean, I like it! I like you. I like you being... naked." She looks around helplessly, then gestures at her. "I mean, you're pretty! You've got good muscle tone, denser than normal, with a stronger tensile strength than most weight lifters. Good reach--" She grabs her head and squeezes her eyes shut. "Dammit." I'm failing. I can't see her as sexy, but I want to. "Shayera. Please. You have to be honest." Shayera looks up, tears in her eyes. "I see you. I see my best friend. I love you." Despite all her good intentions, she had to force the disappointment not to show in her voice. I really thought that... I was just fooling myself. "I love you too. What are you feeling- what do you want right now, Shayera? You don't seem scared, or angry, or stressed. I thought maybe... I thought maybe when you saw me like this, it was getting crossed over to weapon-stuff. That's not what's happening though, is it?" But she doesn't fight mad... "Or is the cataloging just how that manifests for you?" "Weapon stuff? No! I don't want to fight you! It's just... I dunno... second nature to assess someone in case they make a sneak attack against you." "I know. I know you don't want to fight me, but when you see me like this, do your instincts make you think about it more?" Despite those same intentions, Bronwyn's voice was picking up notes of excitement. "Or is it always the same?" Shayera thinks about that some. "Uh, I don't know. Maybe? I hadn't really thought about it that much. I've only seen you this way... really only that one other time." "Well... how often do you think about fighting me? Now that we know each other I mean. I know you looked at me like this when we first met." "Well, that was just a quick glance. Most people I only need a second to figure out how to take them out." "I know, I get that it was quick, but Shayera, how often do you think about fighting me? Please just tell me? I trust you, and I know you wouldn't hurt me. But I think it might matter." "Well, not too often. Just sparring and stuff. For practice. And when Whippoorwill is training me., I sometimes wish you were there. And the times I dream... we're sometimes fighting... a bit..." Puta madre... Do I tell her that's how some of my dreams start? ”Really?” "Well, I think you could get really good! You're like a young Whippoorwill, without all the scar tissue!" ”Did you ever think about fighting Bran or, umm, Skuld?” "Well, at first, yeah. In case I had to. But that's about it... I guess... Wait. What is this about?" Oh Shayera, I hope I'm right. God, please, please don't let me hurt her.”I don't think you're asexual, not really. I think they screwed up your wiring." Confusion wars with frustration on Shayera's face. "What? What does this mean... for us?" "Well... We'll see." Hastily she began tugging her clothes back on. "If there really is something they did to you that you want fixed, then of course I want to help however I can, but... The sex stuff isn't everything. I'm still hurt that you kept all this from me. Like, you didn't choose to share any part of this, and I think I deserved to know before you had someone shove wires through your skull." Shayera gets quiet for a moment, feeling guilty. But she shakes that off and a flash of anger appears in her eyes. "You're hurt? Bronwyn, what was I supposed to say? You took off in a panic when I said I wasn't into you! So I'm supposed to share that I don't find girls attractive!?! Or is it supposed to be okay because I don't seem to feel that way about boys, too?” She pounds her breastbone. "I don't want to be this way! I want to be in love with you, and your body! So I didn't tell you!! I didn't think that was wrong, but I guess it is, since I still apparently can't love right!” ”Shayera, I'm sorry I ran. I was overwhelmed. All of a sudden, all these feelings I'd been having and lying to myself about since I first met you just burst out! You kissed me and I was certain that you had known the whole time. That you knew I wouldn't stay trapped as Bran, that I would come back to you. And if you knew that, if you could tell... then the way I felt about you was real. “But then just WHAM! That wasn't what you meant, and you were laughing and joking about how you didn't feel that way, and you knew that of course I didn't and I just felt so stupid! Like this idiotic little girl who had no idea how she felt about anything. And I ran. “But Shayera, then I told you what was happening. Yes, because I thought you might feel the same way, but also because no matter how you responded, I wanted you to understand what I was going through. “That's the problem Shayera. I know you care for me, and I know you'd do... anything for me. But I need you to want to do things with me. If we're going to be together, it's about us, not just me and you.” Hearing about her gambit to shock Bran's psyche into reverting back from Bronwyn's perspective twisted a hot knife in her gut. Shayera had no idea why Bronwyn had reacted that way, and even though on an instinctive level she knew she hurt her somehow, having it explained to her made her feel all the worse. Her mind whirled in guilt and remorse, and she almost retreated from the conversation right then and there. Wait, no. She doesn't want me to go. She wants us to be together. With the truth out, Shayera gives voice to her fear. "I'm afraid there'd be no 'us' if I'm not gay! I didn't want you to know. I hoped I could pretend, or just make it happen. But you could tell something was wrong. Now you know what it is. So, are 'we' going to try to fix this?" ”Shayera... Before we do that, I need to know. If this doesn't work, if you aren't able to change the way you want... Would you still want to be with me?” Shayera blinks in confusion. "Wh-- well, yes, but you wouldn't want to be with someone not... you know..." She rubs her shoulders and looks away. "Aroused." Bronwyn gave a guilty blush, "Honestly, it'd make my life easier for a while." She quickly waved her hand to show she was mostly joking. ”Shayera, as much as I value our friendship, I want more." She took a deep, measured breath, "Even if there's nothing to fix, even if nothing changes, will you help me find out what that more could be?" Shayera throws up her hands helplessly. "Please, I don't understand. Yes, yes I want to. But I still don't get why you don't want me to change! Why can't I make myself into everything you want?" "Shayera, there might be something to fix, something that was done to you, but... Don't you get how wrong it would be for me to change who you are?” She shakes her head vehemently. "No! I'm doing this! You didn't ask, you're not doing it to me, I'm doing it for you!” ”Shayera, would you want me to change?” She shrugs. "I dunno. You could get better at fighting, maybe? I mean, 'if you're not getting better, you're getting worse.' That's what Whippoorwill says sometimes about practice.” ”I mean, would you want me to change so that I wasn't... attracted to you. So that we could just be best friends?” Shayera looks almost sick. "Of course not." ”That's how I feel about changing you from who you are, or who you're meant to be. That's why I want to go slowly with the idea of changing anything in your head. But if it's what you really want for yourself, I'll help you do it as safely as we can.” "That's what I'm saying. I want this. I don't know why you don't” A heat is burning in Bronwyn's eyes as she says quietly, "Shayera... I want it so much. I just don't want you to only do it for me. I couldn't live with myself... Shayera's shoulders slump helplessly. "Then live with me." ”I'll help.” I just pray I'm doing the right thing. Shayera almost breaks down. She looks truly happy. "Really? You really will? Oh, thank you!!" She rushes forward for a huge glomping hug. "But we have to tell your... We have to tell Whippoorwill. Even if you trust... your Dad. You know that not everyone he works with is on the level. Maybe we can get Matrix to consult?" Wingblade looks uncertain about bringing in Whippoorwill. "Uh, You really want her involved?" She looks sick for a moment, then sets her jaw like she's about to take some foul-tasting medicine. "All right. If that's what you want." "Do you think she'll say no?" Yes. Yes I do. Shayera tries to sound nonchalant. "Eh, I don't know really what she'll say. She not someone you go to for relationship advice." And it's not like you've told your parents what you're up to... ”You don't have to tell her, I'm sorry I said that. You get to decide who you tell, I just... I dunno, I sorta think she'll know what to do.” Shayera frowns as she thinks about telling her mentor that she wants to be attracted to girls and plans to undergo an experimental procedure to unlock her sexuality. There's my out. She won't make me tell her. Should I, though? "I don't know. She probably will say no. She might even get pissed." Her eyes go wide and she stammers, "not about the being gay part! About the..." she reaches up to her head and yanks out another wire as a demonstration. ”It doesn't... it doesn't have to be Whippoorwill. I do want it to be her. But please, someone I trust has to be watching. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you while you- while we were doing this.” Shayera slides off the table and goes to a small chest which she opens. She slips out of her hospital gown and starts pulling on her regular clothes while her mind runs around the idea of bringing in Whippoorwill. She won't be okay with this... but if it's about love, how could she not? Right? There's no other way, is there? But if there is, she'd know, wouldn't she? After pulling up her black tank top and slipping her arms through, she grabs her cargo pants and fishes out her earbud from its pockets. She gives Bronwyn a long look as she sticks it in her ear and taps it on. "Umm, Whippoorwill? Code White. Yeah. I-- We need to talk to you about something."
Amalgam Universe:
Wingblade - PL 14
Advantages
Skills
Powers
Offense
Languages
Defense
Power Points
Complications: Naivete: Wingblade spent her childhood as an experiment in a lab.
Background:
In the years leading up to World War II, globe-trotting archaeologist Carter Hall discovers he is a reincarnated Egyptian prince who has been living a cycle of birth and rebirth with his beloved Chay-Ara. Using his dreams of his past lives, he is able to discover an ancient temple in the deserts of Egypt. Within, he finds buried at the heart of the ruins an ancient starship from the planet Thanagar, homeworld of the Shi'ar Empire. Using technology from the spaceship and a mysterious "Nth metal" in the ship's drive, he builds a flying harness that gives him powers. He adopted the mantle of Hawkman and joined the second heroic age as a member of the Justice Squad. During that time, he also discovered the incarnation of Shiara, to whom he gives a similar harness and she takes on the identity of Hawkgirl. Both the original Hawkman and Hawkgirl are killed in the turmoil of the second World War, the former slain by Vandal Strucker and the latter killed by Redmasque. Carter and Shiera were soon reborn and reunited in the late 70s. They both adopted their predecessors' names and persona, although the general lack of major activity left them as more curiosities than heroes. That changed in the 1990s, when the new hysteria against super-powered individuals arose. Shiera was killed by a sniper in 1995, and Carter was driven into hiding. It was in 2001 when "Project H" utilizing a sample of Carter Hall's tissue and an amount of Nth Metal attempted an ambitious project. No pure human could withstand the effects of Nth metal on the body, but Carter Hall's genetics contained traces of Shi'ar ancestry. Needing a test subject, the project elected to clone Hawkman for further testing. Unfortunately, the samples they had were degraded, most notably the Y-chromosome. One of the project leaders, Sarah Kinney, suggested creating a female clone. The project was never designed to create a living, sentient clone, but something happened. Shiera's soul, awaiting the passing of Carter so she could be reborn with him, was drawn to the cloned body. The clone awoke. The child was raised in the lab, being subjected to a myriad of tests designed to bring out her Shi'ar heritage and to utilize the Nth metal that augmented her physiology. When she was 14, the Hive attacked Earth. Project H had no choice but to convert her into a weapon. Physically bonding her with wings made from Nth metal, as well as grafting retractable claws in her arms and legs, she was sent forth to battle the aliens as a living weapon, with no regard for her humanity. After the Hive were repulsed, she was overwhelmed with the world outside, having never before set foot outside the labs where she was made. She could remember dreams of her past lives, but remotely. Not having been reborn naturally, her cycle of life, death and rebirth has been interrupted. Taking the name Shayera Kinney, she accepted membership in the team of super beings alongside whom she fought, though she struggles with the fact that she had been nothing but an experiment and then, a weapon. Iron-y:
Shayera moves like a shadow through the night, following the faint trail of the man's scent. She weaves into and out of alleys and dimly-lit side streets, staying on the ground to keep close to the traces of aftershave and body odor lingering on the wet concrete. Moving into the warehouse district, she has to stay low and dart quickly past the sickly orange streetlights to remain unseen. But she was getting close. The night air was still, but once out into the open spaces of the warehouse loading yards, the man's scent traveled better. Shayera picked up a whiff of him and caught the low rumbling of a well-oiled garage door sliding open. Turning toward the sound, she encounters a heavy razor--wire fence blocking her from her quarry. Not impressed with the glinting points of metal, she ducks behind a stack of wooden pallets and works a muscle in her forearm. A bloom of pain erupts in her hand as two blades are forced out through her skin and lock into place. She swipes her talons across the metal fence and the links give way effortlessly. With a simple roll, she enters the warehouse yard and moves through the shadows to a short distance from her target. The dapper man with the imported suit glances about, wary but not nervous. She pauses and watches him produce something from his pocket. He unwraps a small stick of gum and pops it into his mouth casually. A wave of minty aroma fills Shayera's nose and memory rises unbidden.
"So, lemme ask you a question," started the man with the thinning hair and the glasses that reflected the computer screens so completely that his eyes were never seen. He fished around in the pocket of his white lab coat while he waited for his colleague's response. [i]"I suppose you're going to ask it whether I let you or not," replied the skinny one with the rumpled lab coat that smelled as if he had slept in it for the last two nights. His hair, too, was unruly and desperately needed a comb. [i]The first one shrugged and continued. "Yeah. Anyway, here we are experimenting on alien DNA. Real aliens. A Thengarian alien --" "Thanagar. Than-a-gar. Though I believe they call themselves Shi'ar." The thin-haired one glanced down at the subject. It didn't react to their conversation. It sat there, blank-eyed, with the tubes and sensors and probes wired into it. "Yeah, whatever." He pulls out a package of gum and starts the noisy process of unwrapping it. "Anyway, do you think we're going to piss them off, doing what we're doing here? If they ever find out about it?" The one with the rumpled lab coat leaned forward. "Okay, one: They'll never know. How could they? No one beyond Project H knows what we're doing here. And two: No. They won't care." The other took a step back, and finished freeing a stick of gum from its wrapper. He popped it into his mouth and chewed a moment. "How do you know? We'd get pretty pissed off if some aliens ran these kind of tests on one of us." He gestured to the banks of computers, the needles, dissection gear and other equipment, all drawing data from the eight-year-old experiment sitting in front of them. "Because," the mop-haired one replied, testily, "they left all this behind a thousand years ago. The old ship, and whatever genetic material they introduced to the gene pool, it's all garbage to them. It's worthless. They care as much about this as we care --" he looked around for a moment, "as we care about that gum wrapper." As if to punctuate his point, he snatched the wrapper out of his colleague's hand, waved it in front of his face, then drops it on the floor. "Forget it. We need to prep for[/b][/b][/b][/b][/i][/i][/smaller] Project H gets a visitor:
The stout woman strode through the corridors like she owned the place. While that may not be technically true, the simple fact that she was here, striding through the labyrinthine hallways unerringly to reach the conference room, left those scurrying after her wondering how long it would be until she did. She sat down at the head of the table and brought the built-in computer console to life. With a few keystrokes, she was into the system and past every security program in place. You can't-- started one of the flustered scientists as she brought the secured files of Project H up on the big screen. She silenced him with a withering glare that spoke that, oh yes, she absolutely can. After a few drawn out minutes as the woman cycled through numerous files, she finally addressed the nervous scientists that had sat at the conference table. I'm Maria Waller. Special director of the alien research division of S.H.I.P. A wave of gasps and uncomfortable shifts passed across the room, with only Waller remaining still. She continued, I am taking an inventory of all alien assets and materiel -- technological, biological, and unclassed -- here on Earth. My division is to ascertain as much information as possible about the types of extraterrestrial entities there are, their capabilities, and their intentions. Your Project H is one such asset. But ma'am, we are a private research facility. You have no authority to take our research, said a scientist with thick glasses reflecting the light of the computer screen. Waller looked at the man, who shrank from her gaze. Well, let's talk about this research, shall we? She keyed a few commands into the console, and the image on the screen displayed a young girl of about eight, sleeping on a metal bed with her limbs strapped down. Some might say you are engaged in kidnapping. That specimen is patented genetic material-- Waller leaned back in her chair. Looks like a little girl to me. Several of the scientists drew back in their seats, making nervous glances to each other. One sat forward, a thin man with unkempt hair. You don't understand. It is a unique genetic code, processed and modified by us, raised and grown in a lab. It's not human, not sentient, and not a "little girl." Waller's eyes narrowed at the condescending tone. I understand perfectly. Then she smiled. But I also understand that you can claim that she is not sentient because of the routine electroshocks you give her. You're up to what, twice a month now? It. It is not sentient, one of the scientists corrected. Another looked down, unable to face her. b]Twice a week,[/b] she said meekly. Waller did little to hide her disgust. By order of the U.N. Security Council, all alien assets will be preserved. That means no more shocks. She will be allowed to learn. Give her an education. See if there's anything about that Shi'ar DNA in her that will let us know how they think, if you haven't scrambled all that out of her already. The rest of the scientists looked at each other, outraged. Only one, Sarah Kinney, did not seem upset. Waller continued. You see, there are no proprietary rights to anything alien. I could seize all your information, patents, assets, and data and for good measure, have you all arrested for child slavery and kidnapping. But believe it or not, I appreciate the work you do here, and the breakthroughs you have had so far have been promising. I am aware you have used up your store of Nth metal. In exchange for these directives and S.H.I.P. control, I can get you more. I would like to see what happens if you introduce Nth metal fully into her system. It seems to interact with the Thanagarian genetics in unique ways. The scientists all gaped, amazed that they were being allowed to continue. Waller smiled again. Desperate times, desperate measures:
Director Waller strode into the S.H.I.P. command center. The bright spots on the holographic globe showing each location of the alien Hive's incursion kept drawing her eyes, but she pulled them away to focus on her senior staff. All right. We've deployed every contingency, every protocol and every resource we have. We're holding on by our fingernails here, so we need options. Let's hear them, but the first one who suggests a computer virus gets thrown out the airlock. The ensuing discussion was a mixed bag of despair and desperation. The only bright spot was the fact that Earth's most significant successes involved powered individuals. But unfortunately, those beings were in short supply. One of senior aides cleared his throat. I came across something, ma'am. The Valkyrie Initiative? You worked on it before you became director. Waller shook her head. That was an idea to weaponize Project H. It's not tenable. The aide wet his suddenly dry lips. It... might be worth it to reexamine the initiative. Reports seem to indicate that those with regenerative powers can resist the transformative powers of the Hive. It says here that Project H has recovered from multiple autopsies, biopsies and organ removal. Waller sighed. But she wouldn't be able to resist the mental control. The aide brought up another program. I believe there may be a solution to that. Our research shows that the Hive mind control affects the higher brain functions. If we can override that with pure instinct, the Hive will never be able to take control. Waller's eyes widened when she looked at the document -- so secretive that it didn't have a name. It was outrageous, implanting triggers to send people on savage rampages. It was understandably buried, only brought out for this, their most desperate hour. You realize Project H has only been able to create the one specimen. She's what, 14 now? You're talking about turning a teenaged girl into a living weapon. She looked at the eyes around the table. No one spoke. Then in the space of the silence, another bright spot bloomed on the globe. Do it.
The girl had just finished the accelerated combat training program and it had been rough on her. Waller had ordered the entire package, even though it had been known to lobotomize its subjects if not parsed out slowly. Her head lolled about while she was on the gurney. The doctors wheeled her down the hallway to the hangar. She was about to be deployed, and Waller wanted to take a moment to meet her. Hello. I'm Maria Waller, she said tenderly, keeping pace with the moving gurney. The girl looked up at her. Waller pulled out a stick of gum and gave it to her. You don't know me, but I've been keeping an eye on you. I think you have been very brave. The girl's face remained impassive, but she accepted the gum. She chewed for a moment, then spoke. Brave? Waller smiled. Yes. It means-- I know what it means. Showing courage in the face of fear. Doing what needs to be done despite instincts to run away. But I'm not brave. Why do you say that, dear? Waller asked, her smile dropping off her face. It implies I had a choice. Waller stopped abruptly and watched the doctors enter the hangar with the subject. The jet was prepped and ready for takeoff. Soon it would be flying Weapon H into the combat zone, her head strapped with a mask that would deploy the special pheromone which would turn her into a -- hopefully -- unstoppable killing machine. She stared after the departing jet until it was out of sight. Then she let out a breath she'd been holding and turned to go. She had a war to run. |
