SciFi > No Small Measure of Success
November 3rd 2006 16:02
No Small Measure of Success
15 October 2054, 16:35 GMT
Medical Base 3, 180 miles above London, England. Recovery Room.
Denise took several long breathes in succession and only briefly opened her eyes when she was wheeled out of the operating room. Softly, she heard the voice of Dr. Reis call to her.
“Denise? Denise, can you hear me?”
Her vision was blurry and her mouth coated with a nasty film; the effects of the ten-hour marathon surgery were not without side effects. A small part of her brain clicked in and she tried to feel out with her magnetic capabilities.
Lt. Harker, in the room had been prepped for such an event and watched cautiously as a magnometer began to react. He softly tapped on Dr. Reis’s shoulder and pointed to the panel.
“Denise, relax please. You’re still in space, and your powers are starting to disrupt the equipment.”
Denise mouthed an apology and Harker watched the sensors die down again. Her marveled at her abilities as he did to any mutant, but did breathe a sigh of relief when she halted.
Harker knew what Denise was capable of, he’d watcher her training videos over and over again. One simple flick of her mind and the structural integrity of the space station would be so much scrap metal. With a single spark from her hand, and electrostatic charge could fry every system on the station, plunging them into darkness and, without heat, death.
Conscious, Denise was in full control; she would be able to restrain herself, but in the flux state during the time she went from being groggy to natural sleep, therein lay the problem.
Dr. Reis monitored the amount of anesthesia still running in her bloodstream; the worst of it would pass in twenty to thirty minutes. She would be observed closely throughout her stay on Medbase 3 and even took a mild sedative when she would use the space elevator.
Denise’s eyes were half opened and half closed; she felt the extra weight despite the low gravity, and a part of her, deep inside, knew at least that the operation would be a partial success.
Her mind drifted, happy at least now to have legs, her subconscious went with this happiness to a calm, centered dark place in her mind. On the verge of true REM sleep, a sharp, shooting pain struck her mid-thigh and began to turn her safe dark place into a nightmare.
In her mind, Denise was flying in her persona-non-grata of DarkStarr. She had just stopped a gravcar that had gone out of control and was checking on its’ driver when the call came through.
“MMB to DarkStarr, robbery in commission, forty-third and Halcion, mutant involved, repeat, mutant involved.”
“DarkStarr to MMB, I’m on it.”
She turned toward the driver, handed him a small plastic card with the standard GTEAMS propaganda videos on it, and sent him packing with a standard, “drive safe, citizen.”
She lifted into the air, flying at a reasonable velocity, trying not to go too quickly for to do so would excessively disrupt the delicate magnetic fields surrounding the buildings of Gigopolis One. Circling around the scene of the crime, her eyes took in the carnage. An enormous Strongarian Mutant, easily nine feet tall was wielding a plastic advertising sign like a baseball bat, smashing windows and street parked automobiles.
DarkStarr’s head’s-up display quickly identified this mutant as Hank “Smash” Warkowski, one of the infamous Crush Brothers, known enforcers of the Gambini Crime Family. A felon wanted for many crimes.
She announced her presence with a warning:
“Give it up Warkowski,” and sent down a small electrical charge, missing him deliberately.
“Fuck you, bitch,” he replied, and flung the ten-foot long sign at her.
It has enough Ferro magnetic materials in it that she was able to magnetically grab it and ride it like a surfboard. She knew from the HUD that he had a tendency to throw things and when a half-ton ground car followed, she was able to redirect it to a safe distance.
A huge explosion erupted as the other half of the duo, Lance “Crash” Warkowski lumbered out of one of the destroyed buildings, carrying a bag of stolen gemstones.
DarkStarr knew that to take the both of them simultaneously would be a difficult task, and put out an emergency backup call. The only reservist available, Mindbinder, would defiantly come in handy here. Sinking an electrical charge into the sign, she magnetically shredded it, and threw it back at Smash, peppering him with hot stringing particulate. Some of the shards struck Crash as well, making him angry.
“Stupid bitch. You attack one of us, you attack us both,” and with an eagle eye, threw the plastic bag of diamonds at her. It sailed true, striking her square in the helmet, knocking out her infrared scanner and two-way telemetry.
Undaunted, she reached out to the underground water network and weakened the two nearest fire hydrants, causing them to burst. The metal end cap struck Crush squarely on the skull and dazed him, knocking him to his knees.
Flying lower, knowing her electrical bursts where short range at beast, she dropped several thousand volts into the now-soaked Smash, causing him to writhe as the strong DC current ran through him like an electric eel, stunning its prey.
Lower still, she flew, barely eight feet into the air, losing her advantage. Crush’s advanced healing quickly took him from being stunned to being fully conscious in the blink of an eye, and with no small pleasure, he grabbed her ankle and slammed her bodily into a plastic public internet kiosk. Only her armor saved her life.
She was not conscious for the rest.
Crush abused her body like an angry child would a stuffed toy, slamming her back into the store he just robbed. Over, and over again, he grabbed her, threw her onto a hard surface and would smile as the sickening sound of broken bones resounded. Further and further, he worked his way into the dark recesses of the store, and was only satisfied when both of her legs were facing unnatural directions.
With a predatory hunger, her then began to peel her armor off, ripping the layers of plasteel and Kevlar, like someone might peel an onion. Once down her underwear he did not stop, but tore it from her body.
Over, and over he raped her, and then, flipped her face down, and sodomized her, leaving her lower half bathed in blood. He only stopped when he saw movement.
There, behind him his brother was moving toward him. Crush could only seethe big man’s silhouette.
“Come for a taste, bro? You might be a little late, I think this one’s dead. No loss, though. You know how these heroes are, there’s always another one down the block.”
Crush cold not see his brother’s eyes I the dim light. If he could, he would be very surprised. His brother’s eyes had no pupil, nor iris. In fact, they looked like slices of the night sky.
Smash took one step closer and with all the power he could muster, kicked his brother as hard as he could in the groin. Smash’s steel tipped boots sent Crush into shock.
Mindbinder slipped behind Smash.
“Very good, Smash. Now take your brother outside and surrender to the authorities like a good little attempted murdered. Don’t’ forget to confess everything you’ve ever done since your last incarceration and tell them that you want the maximum sentence possible.”
“Yes, sir.” Smash said. Mindbinder leaped to Denise and ordered an immediate evacuation to Medbase. Smash began to politely explain to the officers how he and his brother were responsible for a number of heinous crimes.
Denise writhed on the post op table as the parts of the past she could remember played through her mind, over and over again. She felt the pain at the reconstruction surgeries of her vaginal and anal area, and her subconscious reached out in anger again, using her electrical powers, causing arcs in the air.
“Doctor, we’ve got to stop her,” Harker shouted, “she’ll destroy the station.”
Dr. Reis reached down to touch her as her body began to throw off additional electrical charges. Despite the pain of the sensation, he placed his hand on her chest.
“Denise, DENISE, listen to me. You’re going to kill everyone on this station if you don’t stop. Wake up, WAKE UP, DAMMIT!”
Denise opened up her eyes. Other than a nearby control panel and the magnometer, there didn’t seem to be any long-term casualties.
“What?” She muttered.
“Sit up, girl, it’s important.” Dr. Reis insisted.
Slowly she tried to use her arms to prop herself up but they were weak, rubbery and she fell back, striking the cheap military foam pillow with a thud.
“Ow,” she cried, whimpered. Her mind wrapped itself around this new pain, one that she could understand.
Dr. Reis tapped at a wall panel, the foot of her bed rotated pointed toward the floor, and her head raised up more. This put pressure and strain on the new joints and cause them to ache.
‘Ooh, Ow,” she cried, and tears began to fall.
In a fatherly manner, Dr. Reis held her hand.
“Don’t you worry, girl, we’ve got you all patched up now, see?”
Her pointed down toward her feet, bloated and puffy from the time they had spent in the cloning growth tank.
“My…feet…” he tears of pain turned into tears of joy. The shock was too great, and this time she fainted cold, and slept well.
Harker took deep breaths. He had entered a code sequence into the terminal that would have jettisoned this part of the station into deep space. Better to loose the three of them than the entire station and the cloning tanks.
“You can stand down now, Harker. Tell The General she’s going to be fine.”
“Sir, yes sir,” Harker replied absently. With one hand, he tapped at a panel, sending The General the video of the reattachment procedure including the minor epic they had just lived through. Eventually, Harker left once Dr. Reis had indicated he did not believe there would be any future episodes of this problem. Now the task of recovery lay in the hands of Denise Jacobs herself, and Dr. Reis knew she would not falter.
15 October 2054, 16:35 GMT
Medical Base 3, 180 miles above London, England. Recovery Room.
Denise took several long breathes in succession and only briefly opened her eyes when she was wheeled out of the operating room. Softly, she heard the voice of Dr. Reis call to her.
“Denise? Denise, can you hear me?”
Her vision was blurry and her mouth coated with a nasty film; the effects of the ten-hour marathon surgery were not without side effects. A small part of her brain clicked in and she tried to feel out with her magnetic capabilities.
“Denise, relax please. You’re still in space, and your powers are starting to disrupt the equipment.”
Denise mouthed an apology and Harker watched the sensors die down again. Her marveled at her abilities as he did to any mutant, but did breathe a sigh of relief when she halted.
Harker knew what Denise was capable of, he’d watcher her training videos over and over again. One simple flick of her mind and the structural integrity of the space station would be so much scrap metal. With a single spark from her hand, and electrostatic charge could fry every system on the station, plunging them into darkness and, without heat, death.
Conscious, Denise was in full control; she would be able to restrain herself, but in the flux state during the time she went from being groggy to natural sleep, therein lay the problem.
Dr. Reis monitored the amount of anesthesia still running in her bloodstream; the worst of it would pass in twenty to thirty minutes. She would be observed closely throughout her stay on Medbase 3 and even took a mild sedative when she would use the space elevator.
Her mind drifted, happy at least now to have legs, her subconscious went with this happiness to a calm, centered dark place in her mind. On the verge of true REM sleep, a sharp, shooting pain struck her mid-thigh and began to turn her safe dark place into a nightmare.
In her mind, Denise was flying in her persona-non-grata of DarkStarr. She had just stopped a gravcar that had gone out of control and was checking on its’ driver when the call came through.
“MMB to DarkStarr, robbery in commission, forty-third and Halcion, mutant involved, repeat, mutant involved.”
“DarkStarr to MMB, I’m on it.”
She turned toward the driver, handed him a small plastic card with the standard GTEAMS propaganda videos on it, and sent him packing with a standard, “drive safe, citizen.”
She lifted into the air, flying at a reasonable velocity, trying not to go too quickly for to do so would excessively disrupt the delicate magnetic fields surrounding the buildings of Gigopolis One. Circling around the scene of the crime, her eyes took in the carnage. An enormous Strongarian Mutant, easily nine feet tall was wielding a plastic advertising sign like a baseball bat, smashing windows and street parked automobiles.
DarkStarr’s head’s-up display quickly identified this mutant as Hank “Smash” Warkowski, one of the infamous Crush Brothers, known enforcers of the Gambini Crime Family. A felon wanted for many crimes.
She announced her presence with a warning:
“Give it up Warkowski,” and sent down a small electrical charge, missing him deliberately.
“Fuck you, bitch,” he replied, and flung the ten-foot long sign at her.
It has enough Ferro magnetic materials in it that she was able to magnetically grab it and ride it like a surfboard. She knew from the HUD that he had a tendency to throw things and when a half-ton ground car followed, she was able to redirect it to a safe distance.
A huge explosion erupted as the other half of the duo, Lance “Crash” Warkowski lumbered out of one of the destroyed buildings, carrying a bag of stolen gemstones.
DarkStarr knew that to take the both of them simultaneously would be a difficult task, and put out an emergency backup call. The only reservist available, Mindbinder, would defiantly come in handy here. Sinking an electrical charge into the sign, she magnetically shredded it, and threw it back at Smash, peppering him with hot stringing particulate. Some of the shards struck Crash as well, making him angry.
“Stupid bitch. You attack one of us, you attack us both,” and with an eagle eye, threw the plastic bag of diamonds at her. It sailed true, striking her square in the helmet, knocking out her infrared scanner and two-way telemetry.
Undaunted, she reached out to the underground water network and weakened the two nearest fire hydrants, causing them to burst. The metal end cap struck Crush squarely on the skull and dazed him, knocking him to his knees.
Flying lower, knowing her electrical bursts where short range at beast, she dropped several thousand volts into the now-soaked Smash, causing him to writhe as the strong DC current ran through him like an electric eel, stunning its prey.
Lower still, she flew, barely eight feet into the air, losing her advantage. Crush’s advanced healing quickly took him from being stunned to being fully conscious in the blink of an eye, and with no small pleasure, he grabbed her ankle and slammed her bodily into a plastic public internet kiosk. Only her armor saved her life.
She was not conscious for the rest.
Crush abused her body like an angry child would a stuffed toy, slamming her back into the store he just robbed. Over, and over again, he grabbed her, threw her onto a hard surface and would smile as the sickening sound of broken bones resounded. Further and further, he worked his way into the dark recesses of the store, and was only satisfied when both of her legs were facing unnatural directions.
With a predatory hunger, her then began to peel her armor off, ripping the layers of plasteel and Kevlar, like someone might peel an onion. Once down her underwear he did not stop, but tore it from her body.
Over, and over he raped her, and then, flipped her face down, and sodomized her, leaving her lower half bathed in blood. He only stopped when he saw movement.
There, behind him his brother was moving toward him. Crush could only seethe big man’s silhouette.
“Come for a taste, bro? You might be a little late, I think this one’s dead. No loss, though. You know how these heroes are, there’s always another one down the block.”
Crush cold not see his brother’s eyes I the dim light. If he could, he would be very surprised. His brother’s eyes had no pupil, nor iris. In fact, they looked like slices of the night sky.
Smash took one step closer and with all the power he could muster, kicked his brother as hard as he could in the groin. Smash’s steel tipped boots sent Crush into shock.
Mindbinder slipped behind Smash.
“Very good, Smash. Now take your brother outside and surrender to the authorities like a good little attempted murdered. Don’t’ forget to confess everything you’ve ever done since your last incarceration and tell them that you want the maximum sentence possible.”
“Yes, sir.” Smash said. Mindbinder leaped to Denise and ordered an immediate evacuation to Medbase. Smash began to politely explain to the officers how he and his brother were responsible for a number of heinous crimes.
Denise writhed on the post op table as the parts of the past she could remember played through her mind, over and over again. She felt the pain at the reconstruction surgeries of her vaginal and anal area, and her subconscious reached out in anger again, using her electrical powers, causing arcs in the air.
“Doctor, we’ve got to stop her,” Harker shouted, “she’ll destroy the station.”
Dr. Reis reached down to touch her as her body began to throw off additional electrical charges. Despite the pain of the sensation, he placed his hand on her chest.
“Denise, DENISE, listen to me. You’re going to kill everyone on this station if you don’t stop. Wake up, WAKE UP, DAMMIT!”
Denise opened up her eyes. Other than a nearby control panel and the magnometer, there didn’t seem to be any long-term casualties.
“What?” She muttered.
“Sit up, girl, it’s important.” Dr. Reis insisted.
Slowly she tried to use her arms to prop herself up but they were weak, rubbery and she fell back, striking the cheap military foam pillow with a thud.
“Ow,” she cried, whimpered. Her mind wrapped itself around this new pain, one that she could understand.
Dr. Reis tapped at a wall panel, the foot of her bed rotated pointed toward the floor, and her head raised up more. This put pressure and strain on the new joints and cause them to ache.
‘Ooh, Ow,” she cried, and tears began to fall.
In a fatherly manner, Dr. Reis held her hand.
“Don’t you worry, girl, we’ve got you all patched up now, see?”
Her pointed down toward her feet, bloated and puffy from the time they had spent in the cloning growth tank.
“My…feet…” he tears of pain turned into tears of joy. The shock was too great, and this time she fainted cold, and slept well.
Harker took deep breaths. He had entered a code sequence into the terminal that would have jettisoned this part of the station into deep space. Better to loose the three of them than the entire station and the cloning tanks.
“You can stand down now, Harker. Tell The General she’s going to be fine.”
“Sir, yes sir,” Harker replied absently. With one hand, he tapped at a panel, sending The General the video of the reattachment procedure including the minor epic they had just lived through. Eventually, Harker left once Dr. Reis had indicated he did not believe there would be any future episodes of this problem. Now the task of recovery lay in the hands of Denise Jacobs herself, and Dr. Reis knew she would not falter.
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