SciFi > Prepped and Ready
October 26th 2006 21:46
Prepped and Ready
15 October 2054, 04:05 GMT
Medical Base 3, 180 miles above London, England
Denise floated gingerly in her quarters, as the half strength gravity wouldn't allow her to totally bounce around the place, but kept her weighted enough to allow her sense of balance to kick in. It had taken her some time to get used to the pseudo-gravity, and as time, and her healing would allow, she could only hope that they would move her to more stable parts of the ship.
She was not tired. She was excited. Her surgery was tomorrow, well rather today. After this surgery, she thought, she would be whole once again. Then she could resume her calling, her career. She could go back to being a hero. She smiled at that thought.
She had been up in this station for about a week now, and it was driving her crazy, not being able to use her power. If she were to assume per persona non Grata, as DarkStarr, she would blow out every fuse in the place and send the entire station into chaos.
She wondered to herself, as she often did, how she got to be DarkStarr. She was nobody special. After a near death experience at the age of twelve, she was genetically tested, and found to be a mutant. She could not initially control her abilities at all, but, slowly, quietly, with Gteams, she devolved her abilities, and could discharge bolts of static electricity and generate small-scale electro magnetic pulses.
She joined Gteams voluntarily, and through a lot of testing, teaching, and coaching, she learned how to use her powers. Then, the training with Crone began. She was a stern taskmistress, who did not take failure well.
Denise wasn't a quitter. Her parents taught her nothing was easy and nothing ever was given to her on a silver platter. She fought Crone with every tooth and nail she could, and gave her a hundred and ten percent. Crone, after a year told her there wasn't much more to learn being a rookie. She needed to fly solo, and solo she did. Fighting crime and basking in the glory. She loved the attention, both positive, and negative, and found herself an unofficial representative for Team America. She and Crone talked long, every night after work, about this, about that. She was bucking for Lieutenant, after testing for officer's training school, and there was talk about her taking an apprentice.
Then there was the call.
Denise shivered when she thought about it. The dark street, the shadows melting away, the men. Her armor could not protect her and buckled under the strain, exposing her to their non-existent mercy.
From there, she blacked out, only to wake up in the Intensive Care Unit at medical base three. She had no legs, and had to be sedated she was screaming so loud. She wept for four days, until Crone came to see her. It was still another week before she could talk coherently.
As soon as she could move around, General Kinomoto showed up and took her to the cloning bay. In there she saw a sight that she hoped to god she never hoped to see that again, ever, in her life.
There was a body, in a tank. To be specific, it was her body. When she entered the Gteams project, she had given them permission to take tissue and cell samples. This body had no head, just a series of tubes and wires coming from it. He showed her that the body had already been marked at mid-thigh where her legs were amputated.
He told her in six to eight months, she could have a transplant surgery. This surgery would take these legs, after they had been properly conditioned and prepared and graft them onto her stumps. Until then, she was on official, 'medical leave' and he suggested she catch up on her reading.
She looked at him coldly, and started to understand.
To him, she was just another piece of meat. Just another body, just another hero for hire. She was like a vehicle, that you kept spare parts on hand for, that you did not let break down.
The experience shocked her, stunned her, and set her into depression. She requested that she be returned to the surface, against his recommendation. She found she could still use her powers as DarkStarr that did not appear to be limited in any way.
After a long discussion with Crone, at night, she started training again. She would fly high into the air with Esmeralda and play tag with her. She practiced cutting loose her powers, allowing herself to fall, then, at the last minute, regaining control, like a game of chicken.
She made friends with Gears, and with Charlie, who was still unused to his code name of Über. He was a gentleman around her, although she felt that he had a crush on her. He was always pushing her in the wheelchair, and helping her whenever he could.
She got to get to know many of the other mutants as well. Redeye and she never really got along, but she found a kinship with him. He had lost both of his arms in the Iranian war, and had already gone through the process. He talked of the rehab, it being short, somewhat painful. He was also quick to note that it had absolutely no effect on his mutation at all.
While they would never be friends, she was somewhat glad to have actually been social with him. He was always a bit of an outsider to the group, preferring his alone time, well, as much as Crone did.
Denise also got to make friends with a young mutant called Firepower. Firepower's abilities were tremendously powerful, and she too, was very young, barely nine. She lived in a special dormitory that was fireproof. Her emotions were a catalyst for her abilities, and, like most young persons, she had a hard time with them.
Denise would sneak in real, paper books, and sit Firepower on her lap and read to her. While the nurses were great, and treated her well, Denise was already a hero, and someone Firepower cold look up to. In the dead of night, Firepower had once called her on the communications link after a nightmare. Denise could see in the background her entire room blazoned in a flickering, hellish light that made Denise wince, but she did not waver, did not falter.
Denise was a religious woman, a practicing Christian, as she called herself. After she had calmed Firepower down, and gotten her back to sleep, she wondered, that maybe this was the reason God had put her down there. So that this series of events could happen, so that, if nothing else, Firepower would learn that there were people that would care for her, even if she was a mutant.
Denise tried to think about these things, on this, the night before her surgery. She was scared. She was terrified. She signed up to be a hero, not to get her legs hacked off. What was she doing? She could have gone underground, maybe been an English teacher or something like that.
Her train of thought was shattered as the alarm clicked. Six o'clock. Time to go. Her stomach growled, she was not allowed to eat or drink for the last twelve hours. Her front door buzzed and she pulled on a pair of shorts, as an intern escorted her toward the operating theater. Softly, she crossed herself, and followed him down the long, central hall, her future uncertain.
15 October 2054, 04:05 GMT
Medical Base 3, 180 miles above London, England
Denise floated gingerly in her quarters, as the half strength gravity wouldn't allow her to totally bounce around the place, but kept her weighted enough to allow her sense of balance to kick in. It had taken her some time to get used to the pseudo-gravity, and as time, and her healing would allow, she could only hope that they would move her to more stable parts of the ship.
She was not tired. She was excited. Her surgery was tomorrow, well rather today. After this surgery, she thought, she would be whole once again. Then she could resume her calling, her career. She could go back to being a hero. She smiled at that thought.
She wondered to herself, as she often did, how she got to be DarkStarr. She was nobody special. After a near death experience at the age of twelve, she was genetically tested, and found to be a mutant. She could not initially control her abilities at all, but, slowly, quietly, with Gteams, she devolved her abilities, and could discharge bolts of static electricity and generate small-scale electro magnetic pulses.
She joined Gteams voluntarily, and through a lot of testing, teaching, and coaching, she learned how to use her powers. Then, the training with Crone began. She was a stern taskmistress, who did not take failure well.
Denise wasn't a quitter. Her parents taught her nothing was easy and nothing ever was given to her on a silver platter. She fought Crone with every tooth and nail she could, and gave her a hundred and ten percent. Crone, after a year told her there wasn't much more to learn being a rookie. She needed to fly solo, and solo she did. Fighting crime and basking in the glory. She loved the attention, both positive, and negative, and found herself an unofficial representative for Team America. She and Crone talked long, every night after work, about this, about that. She was bucking for Lieutenant, after testing for officer's training school, and there was talk about her taking an apprentice.
Denise shivered when she thought about it. The dark street, the shadows melting away, the men. Her armor could not protect her and buckled under the strain, exposing her to their non-existent mercy.
From there, she blacked out, only to wake up in the Intensive Care Unit at medical base three. She had no legs, and had to be sedated she was screaming so loud. She wept for four days, until Crone came to see her. It was still another week before she could talk coherently.
As soon as she could move around, General Kinomoto showed up and took her to the cloning bay. In there she saw a sight that she hoped to god she never hoped to see that again, ever, in her life.
There was a body, in a tank. To be specific, it was her body. When she entered the Gteams project, she had given them permission to take tissue and cell samples. This body had no head, just a series of tubes and wires coming from it. He showed her that the body had already been marked at mid-thigh where her legs were amputated.
He told her in six to eight months, she could have a transplant surgery. This surgery would take these legs, after they had been properly conditioned and prepared and graft them onto her stumps. Until then, she was on official, 'medical leave' and he suggested she catch up on her reading.
She looked at him coldly, and started to understand.
To him, she was just another piece of meat. Just another body, just another hero for hire. She was like a vehicle, that you kept spare parts on hand for, that you did not let break down.
The experience shocked her, stunned her, and set her into depression. She requested that she be returned to the surface, against his recommendation. She found she could still use her powers as DarkStarr that did not appear to be limited in any way.
After a long discussion with Crone, at night, she started training again. She would fly high into the air with Esmeralda and play tag with her. She practiced cutting loose her powers, allowing herself to fall, then, at the last minute, regaining control, like a game of chicken.
She made friends with Gears, and with Charlie, who was still unused to his code name of Über. He was a gentleman around her, although she felt that he had a crush on her. He was always pushing her in the wheelchair, and helping her whenever he could.
She got to get to know many of the other mutants as well. Redeye and she never really got along, but she found a kinship with him. He had lost both of his arms in the Iranian war, and had already gone through the process. He talked of the rehab, it being short, somewhat painful. He was also quick to note that it had absolutely no effect on his mutation at all.
While they would never be friends, she was somewhat glad to have actually been social with him. He was always a bit of an outsider to the group, preferring his alone time, well, as much as Crone did.
Denise also got to make friends with a young mutant called Firepower. Firepower's abilities were tremendously powerful, and she too, was very young, barely nine. She lived in a special dormitory that was fireproof. Her emotions were a catalyst for her abilities, and, like most young persons, she had a hard time with them.
Denise would sneak in real, paper books, and sit Firepower on her lap and read to her. While the nurses were great, and treated her well, Denise was already a hero, and someone Firepower cold look up to. In the dead of night, Firepower had once called her on the communications link after a nightmare. Denise could see in the background her entire room blazoned in a flickering, hellish light that made Denise wince, but she did not waver, did not falter.
Denise was a religious woman, a practicing Christian, as she called herself. After she had calmed Firepower down, and gotten her back to sleep, she wondered, that maybe this was the reason God had put her down there. So that this series of events could happen, so that, if nothing else, Firepower would learn that there were people that would care for her, even if she was a mutant.
Denise tried to think about these things, on this, the night before her surgery. She was scared. She was terrified. She signed up to be a hero, not to get her legs hacked off. What was she doing? She could have gone underground, maybe been an English teacher or something like that.
Her train of thought was shattered as the alarm clicked. Six o'clock. Time to go. Her stomach growled, she was not allowed to eat or drink for the last twelve hours. Her front door buzzed and she pulled on a pair of shorts, as an intern escorted her toward the operating theater. Softly, she crossed herself, and followed him down the long, central hall, her future uncertain.
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