It was over.
Beaten, her clothing torn and hair messed, manic eyes glaring back at her from behind cracked glasses, the Countess Crey....Julianne Thompson....was
nonetheless no longer capable of presenting any resistance to the team of heroes that'd come together to bring her down. Edge Sabre let a shuddering breath
go through her as she looked at her from behind the reflective faceplate of her armor.
There were shouts as PPD SWAT and other units combed the caves, picking up the dozens of unconscious Crey Security troops that'd tried desperately to fend
off the oncoming onslaught, and Neko glanced at the armored figure standing over the Countess, ornate Cimerorean sword still gripped tightly in one hand. She
glanced at her, and waited, as the others went to clear out the small remaining patches of resistance.
The Countess considered her options as she stared up at the faceless armored figure that was now standing in front of her. Her brilliant mind let nothing slip,
and reports came to mind of this one. Edge Sabre, formerly Scimitar 3920, who'd operated several missions for Crey Security before she'd been present
for the recovery of one of Nemesis's automatons for study. When the automaton had been scheduled for disposal, Scimitar 3920 had gone rogue, defeating the
security forces present and escaping with both the automaton and a second Scimitar that'd been sent to delay her.
And now, as the armored figure removed her helmet and the Countess looked into those ice cold blue eyes, framed by the most odd pink hair, she felt, for one of
the first times in her life, real fear. Crey had hunted these women. Hounded them. Pursued them, hurt them, and in some cases, killed them. And now, without
the protection of her lawyers or her corporation or her money, she found herself at the mercy of one of these women, and by the look of the sword in her hand,
she had very little problem with ending a life. And when she raised the sword, the Countess realized the catwoman standing behind her wasn't going to stop
her. She closed her eyes in fear, waiting for the cold stabbing pain of the battle steel going through her chest....before she heard a sharp crunch beside her
and opened her eyes, looking at where the sword was impaled in solid rock three inches deep an inch beside her.
Neko let a breath out behind Utena as she went down to one knee beside the Countess, eyes cold and laser like with intent. "We aren't afraid of you
anymore," she said softly, so no one else could hear. "We used to be. We ran for our lives from your troops, lived in fear of your discovering our
names and ruining our lives, and we cowered and ran. But no more. You may get out of this. You may escape justice again this time. I don't know. But it
doesn't matter. The Knight Sabres don't live in fear of Crey. There're many of us, and we're strong, and we have the power and the allies to
fight you openly if need be. So take that knowledge with you to prison, you mind controlling bitch. Because we'll be watching," she said, before
standing up and leaving the frozen woman behind, staring at her back as Utena put her helmet back on.
***
"Please, she's my daughter...."
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but she's refused all visitors. Including you. I can't let you in to see her."
"I don't understand..."
The conversation trailed off as it went away from the precinct cell where the Countess Crey sat, hidden in plain sight lest Crey forces attempt a rescue. She
sat, and she brooded, and she thought of the irony of what had finally brought her down. Her mother's own love for her, her desire to find her even after
she'd thrown her name away in a rage and become Clarissa Van Dorn, the Countess Crey....had never wavered. Never stopped. And her need for closure had
recruited the heroes that had defeated her. Had locked her up in this infernal box.
Quietly, she laughed to herself, a bitter, half-sobbing sound that lacked any mirth.
Where had she gone wrong? Her plans had been meant to save the world....to make it a better place. But she'd tried to topple the wrong man, and wound up in
prison for her trouble. She'd gotten out, but no one trusted Julianne Thompson, political activist and extremist borderline-terrorist. None of the heroes
had. And City Hall had hardly trusted her either. So she'd decided to put her gifts to better use. Clarissa Van Dorn had been a mindless dilletante. No one
would've mourned the loss of one more parasite on the human species. And with her name and connections, Julianne had risen phoenix-like to become the
Countess Crey. Under her direction, Crey would've eventually brought order to the world. Eliminated corruption. Its armored troops would've been the
armies that smashed bastions of tyranny such as Arachnos, however much Lord Recluse thought her subservient to his aims. And in the end, she would've saved
the world.
And now? Now she was looking at a prison term. Her secrets exposed. Her power in ruins. And all because she'd never made that last, cold decision to cut
ties with her former life. It would've been so simple. She wouldn't have even needed to die. But she couldn't.
She knew her board of directors. They'd disavow her. Sharks smelling blood in the water. They'd cut her out of the loop, and Crey would go on without
her. Become a bastion of corruption like all the others she'd fought.
No.
She would not let that happen. Her plans would not be used to make things
worse. She. Would. Not. LET. THEM.
And it was then that she considered her Omega plan, the one designed to clear her name even in such circumstances. And so she fiddled with an earring she'd
been left, which transmitted a tiny signal to the one person she knew would see her free no matter the cost...
***
"In other news, the recent arrest of Countess Crey has been overturned in light of new evidence, implicating a genetic clone used to smear Countess
Clarissa Van Dorn Crey of illegal activities. Several board members of Crey Industries have been indicted in the wake of the Countess's return to her
corporation, with a variety of files being made public indicting them not only in the cloning of the Countess but also the Revenant Hero Project and a variety
of illegal operations. The Countess has gone on the record as being horrified with what has been done in her name in recent months and that Crey Biotech and
Crey Industries proper will make massive reparations to those harmed by rogue elements of the company...."
The TV shut off as the various board members looked over at the click-click-clicking of a pair of stilletto heals walking over the expensive wood floor to the
board table itself. Several seats were empty, as the news broadcast had said, and the remaining members looked up at the striking woman advancing on them,
flanked on one side by a massive, unsmiling bulk of muscle wearing dark glasses that hid his eyes.
The Countess Crey sat down in her chair and looked about the room.
"By now, I'm sure many of you have wondered about the truth of my recent arrest. The truth is this. Such plans were in place to prevent my capture.
The three of your number that were removed were also the most inept. But I have "proof" on hand to make each and every one of you a sacrifice to
Crey's good name if you even think of trying to use the details of my past against me, and you will not get such a
marvellous eleventh hour stay of conviction like I did."
Her eyes swept across the room, getting nods from each and every one before she smiled, the expression being fit to shame Mako.
"Very well then, gentlemen. Let's get down to business."
***
The unmarked car pulled up a few blocks away from the door as an armored figure stepped out, grey metal covering every inch of her distinctly impressive
figure. She bent down as the car window opened.
"Are you sure about this, madame?"
"Yes, H-...Anthony. This is the only way. And if I'm sure of anything, it's that she won't pass up this opportunity, no matter what her
feelings."
"...very well, madame."
"And if I don't check in in an hour, you can call in the firepower to rescue me."
"...very good, madame," the bearded man in the driver's seat said with a slight smile. "An hour then."
As the car drove off, the armored figure walked over to the door of the large storefront bearing the name "The Silky Doll", her armor shedding its
grey coloring in a shifting of colors for a brilliant white as she rang the bell.
There was a brief moment of hesitation before the door creeped open. "Enter."
She did, before walking in and facing an aristocratic looking woman in an elegant evening robe. Even caught in the middle of the night, Sylia Stingray looked
as stunning as most women could only dream of. Behind her, another woman in a ratty t-shirt and shorts watched the situation suspiciously.
"I have to admit, you've chosen a rather direct way of contacting me. It might be a bit of a security risk."
"With respect, Miss Stingray, Crey already knows who you are, and no one else knows, so you're as safe as you
can get."
The younger woman stiffened as Sylia's eyes narrowed. "Your armor shows who you want to become, but you'll understand if I don't trust you
right off the bat because you know more than the average escapee."
"Of course. Let me introduce myself," the armored woman said, reaching up and undoing the clasps of her helmet. She pulled it off before pulling out
a pair of glasses from a storage capsule on her belt and putting them on.
Behind her, Priss stiffened, even as Sylia's own eyes widened at the sight of the short, dark hair, and the aristocratic features anyone with a television
would've seen at least once. But she'd hardly expected to see them here.
"My name is Julianne Thompson, Miss Stingray," the woman said. "...and I'm in dire need of your assistance."
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
Beaten, her clothing torn and hair messed, manic eyes glaring back at her from behind cracked glasses, the Countess Crey....Julianne Thompson....was
nonetheless no longer capable of presenting any resistance to the team of heroes that'd come together to bring her down. Edge Sabre let a shuddering breath
go through her as she looked at her from behind the reflective faceplate of her armor.
There were shouts as PPD SWAT and other units combed the caves, picking up the dozens of unconscious Crey Security troops that'd tried desperately to fend
off the oncoming onslaught, and Neko glanced at the armored figure standing over the Countess, ornate Cimerorean sword still gripped tightly in one hand. She
glanced at her, and waited, as the others went to clear out the small remaining patches of resistance.
The Countess considered her options as she stared up at the faceless armored figure that was now standing in front of her. Her brilliant mind let nothing slip,
and reports came to mind of this one. Edge Sabre, formerly Scimitar 3920, who'd operated several missions for Crey Security before she'd been present
for the recovery of one of Nemesis's automatons for study. When the automaton had been scheduled for disposal, Scimitar 3920 had gone rogue, defeating the
security forces present and escaping with both the automaton and a second Scimitar that'd been sent to delay her.
And now, as the armored figure removed her helmet and the Countess looked into those ice cold blue eyes, framed by the most odd pink hair, she felt, for one of
the first times in her life, real fear. Crey had hunted these women. Hounded them. Pursued them, hurt them, and in some cases, killed them. And now, without
the protection of her lawyers or her corporation or her money, she found herself at the mercy of one of these women, and by the look of the sword in her hand,
she had very little problem with ending a life. And when she raised the sword, the Countess realized the catwoman standing behind her wasn't going to stop
her. She closed her eyes in fear, waiting for the cold stabbing pain of the battle steel going through her chest....before she heard a sharp crunch beside her
and opened her eyes, looking at where the sword was impaled in solid rock three inches deep an inch beside her.
Neko let a breath out behind Utena as she went down to one knee beside the Countess, eyes cold and laser like with intent. "We aren't afraid of you
anymore," she said softly, so no one else could hear. "We used to be. We ran for our lives from your troops, lived in fear of your discovering our
names and ruining our lives, and we cowered and ran. But no more. You may get out of this. You may escape justice again this time. I don't know. But it
doesn't matter. The Knight Sabres don't live in fear of Crey. There're many of us, and we're strong, and we have the power and the allies to
fight you openly if need be. So take that knowledge with you to prison, you mind controlling bitch. Because we'll be watching," she said, before
standing up and leaving the frozen woman behind, staring at her back as Utena put her helmet back on.
***
"Please, she's my daughter...."
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but she's refused all visitors. Including you. I can't let you in to see her."
"I don't understand..."
The conversation trailed off as it went away from the precinct cell where the Countess Crey sat, hidden in plain sight lest Crey forces attempt a rescue. She
sat, and she brooded, and she thought of the irony of what had finally brought her down. Her mother's own love for her, her desire to find her even after
she'd thrown her name away in a rage and become Clarissa Van Dorn, the Countess Crey....had never wavered. Never stopped. And her need for closure had
recruited the heroes that had defeated her. Had locked her up in this infernal box.
Quietly, she laughed to herself, a bitter, half-sobbing sound that lacked any mirth.
Where had she gone wrong? Her plans had been meant to save the world....to make it a better place. But she'd tried to topple the wrong man, and wound up in
prison for her trouble. She'd gotten out, but no one trusted Julianne Thompson, political activist and extremist borderline-terrorist. None of the heroes
had. And City Hall had hardly trusted her either. So she'd decided to put her gifts to better use. Clarissa Van Dorn had been a mindless dilletante. No one
would've mourned the loss of one more parasite on the human species. And with her name and connections, Julianne had risen phoenix-like to become the
Countess Crey. Under her direction, Crey would've eventually brought order to the world. Eliminated corruption. Its armored troops would've been the
armies that smashed bastions of tyranny such as Arachnos, however much Lord Recluse thought her subservient to his aims. And in the end, she would've saved
the world.
And now? Now she was looking at a prison term. Her secrets exposed. Her power in ruins. And all because she'd never made that last, cold decision to cut
ties with her former life. It would've been so simple. She wouldn't have even needed to die. But she couldn't.
She knew her board of directors. They'd disavow her. Sharks smelling blood in the water. They'd cut her out of the loop, and Crey would go on without
her. Become a bastion of corruption like all the others she'd fought.
No.
She would not let that happen. Her plans would not be used to make things
worse. She. Would. Not. LET. THEM.
And it was then that she considered her Omega plan, the one designed to clear her name even in such circumstances. And so she fiddled with an earring she'd
been left, which transmitted a tiny signal to the one person she knew would see her free no matter the cost...
***
"In other news, the recent arrest of Countess Crey has been overturned in light of new evidence, implicating a genetic clone used to smear Countess
Clarissa Van Dorn Crey of illegal activities. Several board members of Crey Industries have been indicted in the wake of the Countess's return to her
corporation, with a variety of files being made public indicting them not only in the cloning of the Countess but also the Revenant Hero Project and a variety
of illegal operations. The Countess has gone on the record as being horrified with what has been done in her name in recent months and that Crey Biotech and
Crey Industries proper will make massive reparations to those harmed by rogue elements of the company...."
The TV shut off as the various board members looked over at the click-click-clicking of a pair of stilletto heals walking over the expensive wood floor to the
board table itself. Several seats were empty, as the news broadcast had said, and the remaining members looked up at the striking woman advancing on them,
flanked on one side by a massive, unsmiling bulk of muscle wearing dark glasses that hid his eyes.
The Countess Crey sat down in her chair and looked about the room.
"By now, I'm sure many of you have wondered about the truth of my recent arrest. The truth is this. Such plans were in place to prevent my capture.
The three of your number that were removed were also the most inept. But I have "proof" on hand to make each and every one of you a sacrifice to
Crey's good name if you even think of trying to use the details of my past against me, and you will not get such a
marvellous eleventh hour stay of conviction like I did."
Her eyes swept across the room, getting nods from each and every one before she smiled, the expression being fit to shame Mako.
"Very well then, gentlemen. Let's get down to business."
***
The unmarked car pulled up a few blocks away from the door as an armored figure stepped out, grey metal covering every inch of her distinctly impressive
figure. She bent down as the car window opened.
"Are you sure about this, madame?"
"Yes, H-...Anthony. This is the only way. And if I'm sure of anything, it's that she won't pass up this opportunity, no matter what her
feelings."
"...very well, madame."
"And if I don't check in in an hour, you can call in the firepower to rescue me."
"...very good, madame," the bearded man in the driver's seat said with a slight smile. "An hour then."
As the car drove off, the armored figure walked over to the door of the large storefront bearing the name "The Silky Doll", her armor shedding its
grey coloring in a shifting of colors for a brilliant white as she rang the bell.
There was a brief moment of hesitation before the door creeped open. "Enter."
She did, before walking in and facing an aristocratic looking woman in an elegant evening robe. Even caught in the middle of the night, Sylia Stingray looked
as stunning as most women could only dream of. Behind her, another woman in a ratty t-shirt and shorts watched the situation suspiciously.
"I have to admit, you've chosen a rather direct way of contacting me. It might be a bit of a security risk."
"With respect, Miss Stingray, Crey already knows who you are, and no one else knows, so you're as safe as you
can get."
The younger woman stiffened as Sylia's eyes narrowed. "Your armor shows who you want to become, but you'll understand if I don't trust you
right off the bat because you know more than the average escapee."
"Of course. Let me introduce myself," the armored woman said, reaching up and undoing the clasps of her helmet. She pulled it off before pulling out
a pair of glasses from a storage capsule on her belt and putting them on.
Behind her, Priss stiffened, even as Sylia's own eyes widened at the sight of the short, dark hair, and the aristocratic features anyone with a television
would've seen at least once. But she'd hardly expected to see them here.
"My name is Julianne Thompson, Miss Stingray," the woman said. "...and I'm in dire need of your assistance."
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."