Two people were currently in the range, both deftly throwing knives
at the moving targets. The person on the right side of the room finished
first, deftly flicking her final knife through a ball with an underhand
toss that earned a glance of admiration. Silently, the woman walked out
of the room, knowing that her knives would be retrieved, cleaned, and brought
to her room before the day was out.
She turned left at a fork in the bare hallway, the only notice of where
she was going being a simple pictographic sign. She paused for a few seconds
as she passed a pair of doors inset into either side of the hallway, but
shook off whatever had bothered her, with the only reaction being a slight
twitch of something painful.
She arrived at the room she officially ‘lived’ in, and, once inside, she headed into the privy. However, instead of using any of the facilities, she slowly examined her face in the mirror, gently touching the jagged scar running from just above her eyebrow to halfway down her cheek. Instead of a normal eye, the wounded socket sported a black and red replacement, which continually tracked everything that moved with a tiny sighting laser.
Turning on the small shower, she quickly removed her grimy clothing,
examining her body’s myriad collection of scars, and remembering how she
had collected each of them. The only other visible effect of her often-deadly
dealings around the world was that the vast majority of her hair had turned
bone white, with what remained of her natural colour having faded to a
dull pinkish shade that was only visible to close scrutiny.
Taking longer than normal to clean off the accumulated grit from the
ranges, she let her thoughts wander, until they returned to the prison
she had been stuck in for all of three days. Almost instantly, her hands
clenched, crushing the bar of soap she had been holding into not much more
than tiny flakes. For almost five minutes, she did nothing. Blood from
where her fingernails had torn skin mixed with the water still running
over her body, dripping off of her hands in a diluted mix of red and silver.
Finally, her hands relaxed, letting her flex her fingers slowly as the small wounds in her hands healed almost instantly, stopping any further bleeding. Sighing, she looked at her hands, noting that two of the self-inflicted wounds had created scars, which she added to the mental tally of injuries. Turning off the shower, she dried off, then decided to wear casual clothes, selecting a pair of ratty-looking jeans, a tattered tank top, and a denim jacket as her selection of the day. Shortly after getting dressed, and after tying her hair off in a long ponytail, she headed off to where she was supposed to be for the day.
–Mikae’s House, 9:19 AM–
Mikae rolled over at her mother’s repeated insistence, much of which was some solidly ungentle poking from some solidly ungentle fingertips. She moaned something approximating human speech after a few moments, then let her arms flop loosely over the edge of the bed, revealing the black tattoos that marked her as ‘altered’. Almost two minutes elapsed before Mikae finally woke up enough to mutter some assurances to her mother that she was still alive, which got her mom out of the room.
After several minutes, Mikae slowly sat up, groaning in protest at waking up before noon. Sliding out of the heaped mass of blankets, books, and other accumulated teenager debris that had evolved into some form of bed, she virtually oozed into her closet, yanking off her nightclothes before pulling on her favourite jeans and a t-shirt emblazoned with her favourite band’s logo.
She then headed for the bathroom, figuring that she really didn’t want to kill her mom with her morning breath. After finishing with the necessities, Mikae stumped downstairs like a lump of rocks in human form, entering the kitchen in time to see her mom just finishing the preparations for a rather large breakfast. "Hey. I’m going to see that little news conference downtown today, ‘kay?"
"Only if you promise to keep out of trouble. You give me enough stress by gallivanting off at all hours when you need to refuel, and it worries me." "Mikae rolled her eyes when her mom turned to butter some toast that had popped up, then tore into the breakfast that was waiting for her.
"I will mom. Besides, I’ll be with two people who know how to handle themselves in a fight, so I think I’ll be okay, even if something bad happens." She finished her breakfast quickly, helping out by dumping her dishes into the sink before snagging her bomber jacket and scooting out the door. Long before she had reached the bus stop, Mikae had shrugged into the jacket, hiding her arms, and her tattoos, from casual view.
In about five minutes after arriving at the stop, she was on a bus heading towards the city hall, and was getting a vague sense of unease, much of which could be attributed to the trenchcoat-clad man that stared at her like she was a piece of jerky on a string. Not feeling at all safe being on the same vehicle with the person, Mikae got off of the bus at the nearest stop, noticing that the same creep followed her into an alleyway that she occasionally used as a shortcut.
A few moments after she entered the alley, followed shortly by the man, a person walking past was shocked to see a naked man tied to the nearest lamp-post, screaming something about a demon girl. The person who found the man was so scandalized by the sight, she simply called the police and waited just long enough to watch two nearby officers haul the man away for indecent exposure.
By the time the police had collected the man, Mikae had quietly landed a few metres away from the mouth of an alleyway that opened out to the small open square in front of the city hall. Dusting off her jeans, followed by her jacket, she then walked the five metres to the square, which was rather sparsely populated, though it was beginning to fill up.
It took almost five minutes for Mikae to find Six, who was standing in such a way as to allow her an easy vantage of both the podium that had been set up in front of the city hall, as well as any possible routes that might be used by hostile ‘guests’. Presently, Six was talking quietly to Dr. Zack, who was tapping one of his feet slowly as he thought out his responses.
A gust of wind rustled through the now-crowded park, which whipped Six’s loose pants against her legs, earning her several appreciative glances from several young men that had just walked past. At the same time, Mikae tapped Six on the arm, which earned her a nod and a gentle tap on the shoulder. "How are you today, Mikae?"
Mikae shrugged, absently brushing at a small rip in her jacket, which she had just noticed. "Fine, ‘cept for the cost in jacket repairs again. It’s getting to be that you can’t leave your house for five minutes before some jerk decides to rip up something valuable."
Six shrugged, accenting her shoulders, even through the leather jacket she was wearing. "I feel your pain. You ever figure how tough it is to buy leather patch kits on a tiny salary? It’s not fun, to say the least. By the way, why do you wear that beat-up old thing? It probably has no physical value whatsoever, and its sentimental value isn’t up there either, last I heard."
Mikae just grinned, looking like the evil twin of Six. "I just think it’s cool. Besides, how many people do you know of that have a genuine bomber jacket?"
Six smiled for a split second, then frowned."I’ll give you a hint: He’s about three feet tall, psychotic, and tries to sexually assault anything with a pair of x chromosomes."
Mikae just nodded, then looked over to where a hotdog vendor was doing brisk business. "Well, I’m going to fill a void in my midsection. I’ll be back soon."
Six nodded, watching as Mikae quickly headed off to the vendor before she turned back to Dr. Zack. "So, did you find out anything about the team that came in? Hopefully, you didn’t risk your neck."
He just chuckled in response, then handed over several printed sheets of information. "No. Erin took the risks, all in exchange for about fifty dollars’ worth of junk food and a new modem."
Six flipped through the pages absently, smiling slightly. "She really does think with her stomach and her computer, but she is the best at what she does. Too bad she doesn’t go out and bust heads as often."
Dr. Zack smiled slightly, remembering the ‘bad old days’ when raging battles were commonplace, and Six and Erin had taken it upon themselves to gang up and bust up every Fixed Idea that even dared to set foot within ten blocks of the Angel’s park. "Well, I can’t blame her. After all, she does have a job that is pretty time-intensive."
Six shook her head, frowning. "Hacking is not a job."
Dr. Zack nodded, then raised a finger to show that he had a point of contention. "It is when you’re collecting illicit information about top-secret sources for distribution to the open market. Besides, I really don’t think that she’s out of the ‘active roster’. She’s just waiting for the right time."
Six had to smile."Hmm. And this... ‘open market’ as you put it is almost completely funded by you, huh? Well, when she does decide to get back out on the ‘patrols’, she’s going to get a surprise."
Just as Six finished speaking, three large vehicles rolled into the square, each of which looked like they were prepared for open warfare instead of a ‘peacekeeping’ operation. Dr. Zack raised an eyebrow as one of the heavy vehicles rumbled past him, the greyed steel and angled plates telling him everything he needed to know about just how heavy the vehicle actually was. "Now, here’s a question for you. Who would bring a group of forty-ton armoured personnel carriers into a city, just for peacekeeping?"
Six frowned, looking at the pulverized concrete left behind from the big vehicle’s large tires. "Someone who expects a war."
Dr. Zack nodded, watching as the three vehicles stopped before he spoke again. "You sound like you’re expecting trouble."
Six frowned, watching the APC nearest the podium. "Always. Especially with Jose still out and about."
Dr. Zack grinned to himself, failing to resist an urge to needle his friend. "You’re getting paranoid in your age."
Six shot back quickly, and scored. "Still can’t match your standards though. Why’d you have to upgrade to sustenance-powered lasers?"
A nod was returned, conceding the point. "Less ammunition expenses, and less moving parts. Easier to maintain them that way."
Six pointed at the large man who slowly walked up the steps to the podium, followed quickly by a short blonde woman and a thin man who looked like an ebony statue for all the expression on his face. "Hmm. Well, look at that. I thought people only came in non-Idea sizes."
Dr. Zack also looked at the big man, nodding to himself. "Rules get broken all the time. Just look at my chosen profession as a perfect example."
Just about then, Mikae returned from her jaunt to the hotdog vendor’s, carrying a ministack of five in her left hand, while her free hand helped her manipulate one she had halfway into her mouth. Six took one look at the hungry teen and snickered, barely keeping from laughing outright. "Have enough?"
Mikae finished chewing on the first dog, then glared at Six until she could swallow and respond. "No. I ran out of cash for yours and the Doc. I’d offer, but I’m hungry."
Six just shook her head, turning away from Mikae so she could watch what was going on at the podium. The mayor had appeared from somewhere, most likely from inside the Town Hall, and was speaking quietly with the big man who towered over everyone else in the general area. After speaking for several seconds, the mayor smiled, then turned towards the cluster of microphones and TV cameras that were all generally aimed at the centre of the stage where the podium had been set up. The first words out of the mayor’s mouth were intentionally funny, causing a wave of laughter to ripple through the now-huge crowd. "Hello, is this thing on?"
After the laughter had subsided, the mayor continued from the prepared script that was already waiting for him. "I guess most of you know who I am, seeing as how you probably voted for me last year. Well, anyhow, we’re here to welcome a special addition to our city. Many of you have heard stories of the infamous ‘Giant Green Goon Gangs’ that have generally turned our fair city into a warzone. Also, I’m guessing that most of you have heard of the Gen-Core Cooperative."
The majority of the crowd suddenly broke into excited, if sporadic conversations, causing the mayor to pause in his speech. The conversations quickly died out, allowing the speech to be resumed. "Well, the Gen-Core Cooperative has agreed to assist us with our resident population of green men, and these people are here as proof positive of that. Without further ado, I would like to introduce Will Wilson, who commands the group sent to assist us."
The hulking man walked to the microphones, shook hands with the mayor before waving at the crowd. Naturally, he also smiled for the cameras, though his thick beard hid much of his grin. Pausing for a second, he reached into a pocket of the jacket he was wearing, pulling out several cue cards, much to the amusement of the audience. "Sorry. I never got the hang of public speaking; I always forget my lines, until ten minutes after the bit’s over."
The assembled media in the front row laughed the most, though everyone
in the crowd at least chuckled. "Well, from the reception we’ve had so
far, I think you people like us as much as we like you. Also, just to answer
your burning question on nationality, yes, I did hail from the US. I just
don’t see a need to listen to a dummy who doesn’t know a thing about the
little guys." Everyone laughed at that, as the self-destructive foreign
and domestic policies of the current president were well-known, and had
made the nation the butt of just about every joke possible.
"Well, anyhow, you’ve already heard that I’m the boss of the group
sent here to remove your green men, and I think we have enough room on
the next Mars research rocket to fit most of ‘em. Also, many of the people
I work with are also members of humanitarian organizations, so we’ll be
helping out your disenfranchised with free food and clothing, as well as
helping out with any other civil services that might be required during
our tenure here."
Wilson paused for a second, flipping through his few cards, then grinned and put the cards away. "Well, just because I’m really nice, I’ll let you get back to using the mayor as your verbal punching bag, okay?" Wilson then stepped backwards, beckoning the mayor forwards to field the mundane questions that were usually fired off at the end of any major announcements.
In the crowd, Mikae had separated herself from Six and Dr. Zack just enough so she could finish scarfing down her hotdogs in peace. She was halfway through her last one when a loud noise caused her to turn around, instinctively ducking as she did so. Mikae took in the sight in front of her for almost half a second, which was just enough time for her to drop the hotdog. She then screamed, loudly enough for everyone in the park to hear her. Almost instantly, everything went to hell as a small army of Fixed Ideas, armed with rocket launchers, machine guns, and Mikae actually took the time to glance again at the advancing force when she saw that some of the big brutes were actually carrying chainsaws.
The crowd instantly scattered, and with good reason; a Fixed Idea with a rocket launcher was as indiscriminate as a nuclear weapon, though far less devastating, due to the fact that a nuke was everywhere at once, while a single Idea could only shoot as fast as it could reload its weapon. Mikae, however, counted fifty Ideas with rocket launchers, and that was more than enough to kill everything in the square twice over. Several of the Ideas spotted her, and their rudimentary threat assessments tagged her with a half-dozen rockets before she could even squeak.
A flying tackle by Six saved Mikae from being turned into steamy pink pulp, though at the cost of another rip in the teen’s jacket. "Aww dammit! Not again!"
Six had to smile as she stood up, watching as the three APCs all turned their weapons onto the leading ranks of Fixed Ideas, which quite quickly vaporized under a pounding crossfire from a half-dozen turret-mounted gatling guns. "I think we’d best let the ones with the guns deal with this group; there’s a bit too many, even for us."
Mikae nodded, watching as Wilson’s ‘team’ opened up with their weapons, much to the obvious detriment of everything downrange. Mikae noted that whatever was shot had a tendency to be knocked sprawling, if it hadn’t been neatly separated into its component appendages. Nearly half of the attacking force had been shredded when reinforcements appeared. Mikae’s first thought when she saw the reinforcements was solidly vulgar, and cut off when a rocket blew out a large chunk of building’s wall she was taking cover behind.
The debris, mostly large cinder blocks and bricks, proceeded to rain down onto the luckless teen, who dodged to the side, keeping along the wall so she wouldn’t take several errant bullets. Instead, she took a solid blow to the head that knocked her silly. A large chunk of stone, loosened by the fighting, slid free of the crumbling mortar that still held it, and fell ten stories. Onto Mikae’s head. Right about then, everything went black.