Stardust Soldiers

[Avenger Assembled]

"Okay," said Edge without a trace of hesitation as the temperature in the air. "Kenzie, we're going to get you back to base," he told her as he set aside what had otherwise been a delicious crawfish platter to put his hand on her shoulder for transport. "And after that, I'll come back here and find whoever did that. We got unlucky before but don't worry - that doesn't happen to me much," 

 

-

 

"You have a very interesting system at the United Nations," said Nina with the politeness that showed teeth, her hands resting on the counter in front of her as Rivera spoke to the other agent about the mysterious man given access to some of UNISON's most important dictionaries. She thought this sounded really very foolish, but she wasn't about to say so out loud, especially when any number of people might be listening to someone who after all was just a paid contractor. In Socotra, things would all have been handled quite differently - quite differently indeed. 

[EternalPhoenix]

Kenzie Zhang nodded, and suddenly found herself back in her office with her assistants. “Be careful, Edge. Don’t take them lightly because they’re children.” Obviously, she’d felt them once the windows had started to frost over. “I haven’t sensed such purity of purpose in a long time.”

 

When Edge returned to the Southern Queen, the head chef was clearly not here. The seats where he, the mayor, and  Zhang had been sitting were perforated with arrows made out of crystal clear ice. Through the frosty windows a short battle between FCPD and a few AEGIS agents on one site and a blue haired and brown skilled girl with a bow was wrapping up. The girl was casually one shotting them with ice arrows.

 

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

 

Estelle, a grandmotherly type, directed the two to an small lunchroom in the back. Rivera led the way, showing signs of knowing at least part of her way around. “Well, I will admit it does look shady. If I were you, my every instinct would be screaming a warning not to trust Tariq al-Rabadi. But the thing is, his past isn’t unknown. We have it on file. I just don’t have clearance and nobody who does will say anything. Twenty five years ago, somebody very high up trusted him enough to bury his past and let him start over. The way I see it, you only get that high up by having a good nose for who you can trust and who you can’t.” It was then they arrived at the small lunchroom. There were few AEGIS agents around. This was apparently a more disused section of the floor. Rivera opened the door, and a chill breeze wafted out. “Tariq? Are you here?” There was a window to the outside, and it was shattered. The wall opposite sported several scorchmarks. “Blaster fire? And nobody heard?” The room was empty, and there was no place large enough for a grown man to hide. “Oh, no.” There was a spot of blood on the floor, right next to a phone. Rivera glanced out the window, but there wasn’t a corpse on the sidewalk. “This is Tariq’s phone and probably his blood. I…I need to report this.” She stepped out of the room and pulled out her own phone. “Don’t touch anything.”

[EternalPhoenix]

Brigitte was hidden further down the block and across the street. Personally, she thought Zara was crazy, taking on all comers like that. Brigitte wasn’t a close combat kind of girl, nope. And so when she sighted in, expected to see her previous target she was somehow not surprised to see the blue haired girl was taking on Edge. Alone. The most powerful superhero in the UN’s arsenal, and Zara was going to go toe to toe with him. Lunatic. Still, he was kind of in the way. Killing him would be a bad idea, so she switched out the clip in her sniper rifle for the rubber bullets. She resighted on Edge and fired, directly at the center of his body.

 

Zara, meanwhile, might have been kind of crazy in a scaredy cat like Brigitte’s view…but she wasn’t stupid. Edge had to be able to take some serious punishment to roll in the power league that he did. It’d be a waste of time to attack him directly. Instead she formed a Cryo Arrow and shot that at him. It usually frozen whoever it hit solid. Maybe not right away, but after a hit or two…

[Avenger Assembled]

Edge looked up, startled - and the ice arrow struck the bullet, the two of them spinning off into fragments and away from Mark. "Hey, quit that!" he yelled, the ice shaking beneath him as the ground itself seemed to rebel against the violence and cold all around him. "People are going to get hurt!" he went on, fragments of ice falling from walls and roofs around him, some falling towards the two assassins but none coming near the civilians all around.

 

-

 

"She broke in," said Monsoon, standing by the window, appalled. "They used someone small enough to break in, take the man's life, and potentially make her escape." She fell silent, considering that. "Those were no metahumans or shrinking victims - those were children sent to war. And now this has happened. Are you still here, child?" she called out loud. "We will find you either way, and when we do, you will be free."  

[EternalPhoenix]

Zara didn’t know what hit her, but it was big and hard. It hurt. A lot. Pain rocketed through her body and she strugged to stay conscious. This was what it was like to fight Edge? What the hell had she been thinking? <”I’m such an idiot.”> She muttered in her native tongue, dropping to one knee. He was like a god, and she just had a talent for cryonics. The Director’s word, not hers. And what was Brigitte doing? She was supposed to be backing her up here.

 

Brigitte was in motion. Her first lesson as a sniper was to fire and move. After a few rubber bullet counter sniping KOs, she got the message. She abandoned her window and sprinted to get down the stairs. Zara was going to need her help. Something other than the rifles in her backpack needed  to be used. The flash bangs? The smoke? The sleep gas? Think, Brigitte, think. What do you use to take out a man with the power of a god?

 

*********

 

“Free?” The voice came from the doorway. “You really don’t know anything, do you?” This was not the voice of Francisca Rivera, who had gone out that same doorway just a few moments ago. A smallish teenage girl whose parents were decidedly from somewhere in the Eastern part of Asia walked into the room. “Everyone assumes that children who fight are being forced to.” She was wearing, of all things, a old stained painter’s smock restitched into a sleeveless dress. “Maybe we’re grateful to someone who gave us food and a home when no one else would bother.” She flashed the kind of haughty smirk that only teenage girls seem to possess. “Maybe we like putting one over on a world that abandoned us.” She shrugged. “Guess it doesn’t make any difference. Heroes will hero. The Director wants to talk to you, Nina al-Darsah.” She produced a paintbrush the size and shape of a quarterstaff. “I’m supposed to be your ride.” To prove the point she rode it like a witch’s broom, sidesaddle. Her feet hung several inches off the floor.

[Avenger Assembled]

With the shooting done for the moment, Edge walked up to the fallen blue-haired girl, slowly picking his way along the ice. As he went, his costume rippled and changed, transforming itself into a dark suit, blue shirt, and bright gold tie. Heedless of the fact that Zara had recently been shooting at him, he raised his hands and focused right on the girl. "Hey, sorry about the brick," he said reassuringly. "I just wanted to get you guys to stop shooting at me. There are a lot of people around here who could have gotten hurt." He smiled, doing his best to keep the girl calm and reassured, unaware of how he practically glowed like a sun as he approached her. "I go by Edge, but my name is Mark. I'm here to stop anybody else from getting hurt - and to make sure everybody gets help." The girl was bleeding from the glancing blow to the side of her head that she'd gotten from the falling brick, but she looked otherwise all right as far as he could tell. "Can I help you?" 

 

-

 

Monsoon laughed and laughed - and it didn't sound terribly nice. "Oh how delightful a picture you paint, child! Let me present you with an alternative vision of the future." She reached behind her and suddenly whipped out her scimitar, the blade digging into the girl's cheek with fantastic speed. "I will text Edge and tell him where I am going. If you try and run, I will stab you so that you cannot run. I will then dress for battle - if you try and run then, I will follow you and stab you so that you cannot run. I will then follow you to meet your Director, where he will be dealt with. You may test my patience if it pleases you but I warn you I am no mere superhero, I am Nina al-Darsah and I am MONSOON!"

[EternalPhoenix]

Zara didn’t understand a word in three of what Edge was saying. Although she spoke several different languages, all of them originated a world away from England. Most of them weren’t of any use outside of their small (on a global scale, anyway) ethnic group.  So Zara’s English was, in a word, terrible. Really, really bad. She wracked her brain for the words and meaning to respond properly. At the very least, she had to buy time. “English. Bad.” Her accent was atrocious. The pain was receding and she stood up straight again. She strung up her bow with a new bitterly cold arrow, but hesitated before aiming. Edge could’ve just flattened her while she was stunned from the pain, but he didn’t. In fact, he’d changed out of his uniform and just talked to her. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, and willed the arrow away. <”Help?”> The word had finally penetrated her brain. Edge wanted to help? <”You want to help? Can you bring back my mother? My brothers? Our village?”> Knowing he wouldn’t understand a word of her native tongue, she spat the words at him bitterly. <”Can you make the storm have never happened? Can you even turn my hair a normal color? Americans, always so arrogant. Some things cannot be changed.”> She glared at him with not burning rage, but the kind of fury only grief can spawn. <”Your ‘help’ is too late.”>

 

Brigitte hit the street, still far enough away that she was lost in the crowd. The FCPD were already trying to contain the incident and keep the civilians out of the way. She was just a kid with a backpack and, after she unchained it, a bike. She could see Zara and Edge…talking? The police officers didn’t notice her casually walk her bike past their improved line. She could be like a ghost when she put her mind to it. She had a plan, now. The target wasn’t here. Time to bail out. Ride up reasonably close, drop smoke, run away. It…was a plan, anyway. She hopped on her bike and started pedaling.

 

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

 

The girl’s voice betrayed some fear, but her face and posture didn’t change one iota. In fact, her skin was too supple, giving way to Monsoon’s scimitar entirely too easily. Her diction was precise in nature, and her elevated emotion state allowed an accent fitting her appearance to leak out. “I’m not going to run.  I have no reason to run.” The girl blinked once, and touched a hand to the scimitar. “I like your sword, but you’re pointing it in the wrong direction.” The girl’s voice wasn’t exactly coming from her, if indeed it ever had. “The Director told me about your reputation, and said to be careful. So I was. It’s no use looking around.” The fear in her voice was gone. “My paintbrush isn’t just for show, you know. My name is Yumiko, Nina al-Darsah. I like to paint. I’m very good at it.”

[Avenger Assembled]

Mark put his hands on his knees, thinking about what he could do about a girl whose language he didn't speak. "I wish I spoke your language," he commented quietly. "I don't know if you speak mine. But I can tell a lot of bad things have brought you to this point. I can help you with some of them later..." He pointed at the girl, magical energy zapping from his fingers in a bolt of purple-black energy, striking Zara in the hair. In the space of a few seconds, her hair rippled and waved like it was in a strong breeze, falling back down on her shoulders in long, lustrous shades of deep raven black. "It's something, anyway," he said with a little shrug. He offered her his hand. "Can I help?" 

 

He looked down, glancing momentarily at his phone as he started to buzz. "Huh, we may need to make a little stop off..." 

 

- 

 

Nina frowned - sensing a trap, but not able to penetrate it. "Stay here," she finally said, putting her scimitar away. "I will return shortly." She left the room and closed the door behind her - glad that she'd bothered to bring the armor with her. When she returned several minutes later, Monsoon was an entirely new figure - blue and gold armor, a gold cape behind her, and sword at her hip. "Wait there," she announced to the room at large, increasingly frustrated by the suspicion that there was someone else there that she couldn't see. "We will all see your Director together - so says MONSOON." 

[EternalPhoenix]

Zara touched her hair in wonder. Let it fall through her fingers. She didn’t know what to say. Her hair wasn’t blue. It wasn’t blue. All of her life, since the day she was born, it had been blue. The shade had varied some, based on how much sun she’d had and how old she’d been, but always blue. And now it just…wasn’t. She didn’t collapse into a blubbering heap, but it was suddenly hard to see out of her tear filled eyes. The taunts would be gone forever, now. “Ice-haired witch” being the kindest of them. She reached out to take Edge’s hand…and then Brigitte’s smoke grenade exploded. The smaller girl grabbed her hand and pulled the shell shocked teen assassin away. They rode double on the bicycle through the smoke, with Zara taking over after noticing Brigitte’s smaller body struggling to keep up speed. They burst out of the smoke cloud, and Brigitte fired a rubber bullet burst from her machine gun at no one in particular. People scattered in terror and the two girls disappeared in the city streets. Zara found her voice and begin to tell Brigitte of Edge, both his power and his kindness. The younger girl listened attentively.

 

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

 

Where Yumiko had been, there was only a puddle of paint on the floor. However, her copy sat on the windowsill, having cleared the window glass out of it while Monsoon was away. The paintbrush was nowhere to be seen. “All of us?” She frowned. “It was just supposed to be you and me. Who else could be going?” As before, her voice didn’t entirely come from her. Close, not but not quite right. “Edge?” She froze in place. “Yes, Director. I’ll tell.” Her lips hadn’t moved, and yet there she spoke. She unfroze. “The Director says it’s okay if Edge comes too.”

[Avenger Assembled]

The air crackled for a moment - and Monsoon and her ride were joined by a new figure. Mark Lucas's eyes blazed with power but his voice was calm and perfectly rational, even reassuring as he spoke to the young woman Nina had met. He took Monsoon's hand, an open hand to her blade. "Take us to your leader. We're going to make everything all right." 

[EternalPhoenix]

Yumiko didn’t get up from her seat, but her paintbrush appeared in her hand. With a flamboyant gesture, she made a rainbow bridge from the window to a relatively short skyscraper a block away. Her voice did display some surprise at Edge’s sudden appearance. “It’s not solid, so don’t walk on it. The Director will see you there.” She waved her brush again, and the air shimmered. The teenage girl in the window no longer appeared to be a living human being. In fact, it was a very well done three dimensional portrait in oil paint. The subject of that portrait, Yumiko, was actually outside the window, standing on her long paintbrush. The portrait was very much an idealized version of the girl out there. While the painting had long, graceful limbs, high cheekbones, and perfect hair; the real Yumiko…did not possess those qualities. “All right? You say that something’s wrong now. I have a home. I have sisters.” The height was the same. However, she was stocky, with short blocky limbs, a round face, and untamable hair. There was also a vicious knife scar marring one cheek that was decidedly not reproduced on the painting. “More importantly, I don’t have a father who gets drunk and thinks he can play amateur plastic surgeon because I’m not pretty like my mother.” She flicked a free hand at them. “You can teleport, so don’t wait for me. I don't have to take you there now. The director wants to meet alone.” She flashed a bold smirk. “Try anything crazy, and I’ll fall off my brush. It’s a long way down.”

[Avenger Assembled]

Monsoon put her hand on Edge's shoulder, sensing a level of tension in her fiance that was unusual in the gregarious Mark. Edge put his hand on hers, grateful for the connection even if she was behind blue-gold steel, and smiled. Turning back to Yumiko, he said, "We'll do this differently. I'm not going to leave a meta-soldier here so close to all these civilians and UNISON agents, even if they already know you're here. Monsoon is going to keep an eye on you - and I'm going to see your boss." He vanished with the sound like the popping of a soap bubble, leaving Yumiko alone with Monsoon.

 

Aware now of the nature of the girl's powers, Monsoon said,not ungently, "Come inside, child. It's cold out there. You eluded me this far - what threat do you have from me now?" 

[EternalPhoenix]

The indicated skyscraper rooftop was empty when Edge arrived. And then it wasn’t anymore. The woman who appeared was South Asian (India, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh) in appearance, and not especially young. Lines of silver were liberally threaded through her hair. She was dressed in entirely in white, without any cold weather gear. A small outline of a rabbit was just above her left breast. She smiled politely and spoke in accented English. “Oh, Edge. I wanted to speak with Miss al-Darsah, not you. I have a business proposition in the form of an exchange of favors. She’s quite a good swordswoman, and sadly my students are below par in melee. If she would join my training staff, in five years we ought to be able to take Socotra from her father. You’ve both been dealing with my best students all day. Just imagine what they’ll be like in five years, along with all the other graduates.” She walked up to Edge, polite smile still in place. “I do know that you’re opposed to assassinations as a matter of principle, but let’s try to be reasonable. Certain people are always going to want certain other people to be less alive. Given the choice, I would rather the job get done in an efficient and professional manner, as opposed to some amateur with a cheap pistol or a fertilizer bomb.”

 

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

 

Yumiko looked like she was about to refuse. Then a particularly chilly breeze blew and she shivered rather violently. Taking a seat sidesaddle on her paintbrush, she floated inside. “T-thanks. I left my coat at home." She twirled the brush and essentially painted a nearly transparent wall between her and Monsson. “I am a professional, though. I don’t hurt anyone who isn’t my target, except in self defense.” She regarded her wall. “Still need to work on my glass. It’s not right yet.”

[Avenger Assembled]

Mark ticked off points on his fingers, circling the White Rabbit on the roof. 

 

"I came alone because Nina trusts me - and because she knows I can handle anything you'll throw at me." He was sure he'd have to give Monsoon a detailed report upon his return, so he did his best to memorize any detail. "I'm not going to speak for her - but you should know that if Nina was interested in outsiders helping change who sits on the throne of Socotra, we would be in Typhoon City right now." He frowned. "And if you are a professional mercenary, you know that Typhoon isn't like the other metahuman dictators. He's not interested in respectability or ideology. If your people invade Socotra, he will kill them all before he gives up his throne." 

 

He looked at the woman, his arms folded across his chest, and said, "I'm offering you a chance to turn yourself in. It'll be a trial for you, and placement for the children somewhere where they can live the lives they deserve. I can't promise it'll be easy," he admitted. "But it'll be a better shake than you'll be likely to get any other way." 

 

- 

 

For the combative hydrokinetic, this was a new role - but not an unfamiliar one. "Let me get you some water," suggested Monsoon, casually summoning the pitcher in the corner of the room. "That must be thirsty work." When the girl had the glass, Monsoon took a seat across from her, but kept her armor on to maintain a certain amount of distance. "I know...something about fathers," she said after a long pause. "How did White Rabbit find you?"

[EternalPhoenix]

The White Rabbit’s polite smile faltered, confusion slipping in. “There seems to have been a misunderstanding. My offer wasn’t to simply depose him. As you said, Typhoon isn’t the kind of man who will give up short of death. So it would be far more practical to simply kill him and anyone else who might take issue with Miss al-Darsah assuming the throne. And before you say it wouldn’t be that easy, I’m an assassin, not a soldier. My students are assassins as well. We specialize in unfair fights, if there’s even a fight at all. I have been an assassin since I was their age and I assure you, no one is invulnerable at all times.” There was absolutely nothing in her face or voice but confidence as the polite smile slid back into place. “As for the children, there does appear to be another misunderstanding. I am not holding them against their will. They are free to leave whenever they like. And I did not make them killers.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “Every single one of my students are orphans, rejected or ignored by the system in their country. They all attempted to kill someone and most of them were successful. They all did have at least one good reason, I will admit, but…a killing is a killing.” Her smile brightened. “All I did was provide a stable home and turn those natural instincts into something that could earn a steady living. My old master always said give a man a fish and he’ll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish and he’ll eat for his entire life. He taught me to fish very well, and now I pass on the lessons to the next generation.” She sighed softly and appeared truly regretful. “So I must apologize, but I simply don’t have the time to be arrested, charged, tried, and imprisoned. I have too much to do and too little aid. If Miss al-Darsah will not help me, then I suppose I should wrap up my business in Freedom and go.”

 

***********

 

Yumiko frowned and folded her arms. “I’m not giving away any of the Director’s secrets, Nina al-Darsah.” She sipped the water cautiously. “She has her ways of finding things out.”  She paused. “I was in a hospital, after...” She touched her scar. “It was for crazy people, though, and I’m not crazy. I was defending myself.” She was pouting, as that part of the memory irritated her. “He didn’t know about my brush and my paints, but he learned. Then he died.” She smiled, savoring that memory. “The Director took me away from there. Gave me books on chemistry and magic. Taught me how to fight better. I met Brigitte, Claire, Olivia, and Zara.” She breathed in and then out. “She gave me my sisters, and my home. She's not the nicest person, but she's not my mother or anything. She's the Director.”

[Avenger Assembled]

"Mm. I always liked books on history better," said Nina thoughtfully. "My...father raised me on stories of the kings and queens of ancient Arabia, how once we could reach out our hand and take what we wanted - instead of whoring our birthright for oil money." She hmmed. "Reality is more complicated than that, of course, but you'd be surprised how pleasant it can be to make your own decisions, child. Look at me." She gave Yumiko a conspiratorial smile. "When my father exiled me, I had nothing but my wits and the friends I'd made - and now I have power that goes far beyond my gifts. If your training is as good as you say, you could easily do the same. So, who did the killing?" she inquired.

 

---

 

Mark shook his head. "You're just a sad person who thinks doing sad things is how people are supposed to act," he said, his tone quiet and level. "You're not even big enough on the world stage to show your face here. When this is done, I want you to remember that it could have ended right here. I'm sorry it's come to this." And with that, he was gone, reappearing in the conference room where he'd left Nina and the child soldier. 

[EternalPhoenix]

Yumiko looked…confused. “I do make my own decisions. I just said so.” A flick of the wrist and her brush spread paint on the wall. In an instant the wall smoked and burned through, as if the paint was acid. She shifted from confusion to shining pride. “Wasn’t that good, then, but it worked. Now it’s better. They wanted me to be sorry. I’m not sorry. I’ll never be sorry.” Her eyes were not cold and reptilian. She did not sound particularly angry, bitter, or hateful. Not about the killing, at any rate.“My father was a bad man. He hurt me. So I killed him.” She smiled. “With my brush and my paints.”

 

She tilted her head, as if hearing something. “Yes, Director.” There was a pause, as if she was receiving new instructions. “I understand, Director. Is it all right if I finish speaking to Nina al-Darsah? Or there time constraints?” Another pause. “Yes, Director. I will return to the rendezvous point when I am finished.” Her eyes refocused on Monsoon. “I’m sorry, I had to take that.” She smiled again, noticing Edge had arrived while she was in communication with the Director. “I still have a few minutes if you’d like to keep talking.”

Edited October 5, 2016 by EternalPhoenix

[Avenger Assembled]

"Sometimes fathers need killing," said Nina, her eyes flat and unreadable for a moment. "Why should you be sorry for what you've done? Take it from someone who has reached the advanced age of 24 - it's better to be sorry for what you haven't done than what you have." She sipped her tea. "What decisions do you choose to make, then? You obviously have an employer." 

 

"That's amazing!" said Mark smoothly. "Is that telepathy? My friend Psyche can do that and she's amazing, she can reach anybody anywhere in the world that way." 

 

"Oh, I don't know, Edge," said Nina amiably. "You always go straight for the mentalism - I think it could be cybernetics. I'll tell you what we could make a wager..." They settled on a twenty-dollar bet, then Nina turned back. "What do you think, girl, do I owe him money or not?" she smiled warmly as she asked. 

[EternalPhoenix]

Yumiko smiled mischievously. “That’s for me to know and you to figure out.” She finished her cup of water in one gulp. “I decide whether to go on missions or not. There’s no pressure. If I don’t, somebody else will do it. How the target is eliminated is also up to me, usually. Sometimes the client has a special request and that’s more important than what I want to do.” She paused for a moment. “The money is for the Academy, but I do get a small percentage to do whatever I want with.” She sighed, as if in resignation. “All right, I’ll give you a clue. We do have a cyborg at the Academy, but she isn’t one of the students. That clue’s for two things. How the Director finds things out, and how she talks in my head.”