Christmas was no different in the Rogue Isles than anywhere else, really.
There
was perhaps a greater degree of crime by burgeoning supervillains to
finance their own holiday gift giving, but this just meant that the
crime rate remained steady, while the funds went to different suppliers.
Renegade snowmen ambushing people out of packages were actually a
refreshingly mundane change compared to Arachnos flier raids, Wailer
hordes, Snake burrows, or any of a dozen other ways one could be
injured, killed, or mutated. In the end, the Rogue Isles endured, and
its population hunkered down for the new addition to blow over.
For
Nao, however, the walk into the local Arachnos precinct wasn’t
particularly threatening, even if the Destined One’s right to muck about
didn’t give her some protection. Madigan’s reasons had been her own for
enrolling the young Scimitar in Arachnos’ ground combat forces under a
fake identity, but these days Nao could see the advantages. Operative
Juliet Zhang had access to Arachnos that Kumi Scimitar did not...and the
training had hardened her to the brutal requirements of her real job.
For
now, though, she was enjoying the perks. Wolf Spiders perked up as she
entered, her emerald and gold armor indicating her identity as one of
the elite among their number. It was more than a badge of status; it was
a demonstration that the soldier in question had survived the
initiations set by the sub-set of elite Arachnos troopers that had
already attained their own custom gear. And woe betide any who attempted
to do so unauthorized. Nao ignored the looks for the most part,
concentrating on projecting the proper lack of fear and disdain for
those lower on the food chain than her needed for her role. If any of
the Spiders here scented blood, they’d be on her in a moment. The
retractable claws built into her gauntlets twitched slightly at the
thought.
“Ah,
Operative Zhang,” the quartermaster said as she approached him. “Your
order wasn’t hard to acquire once we received those scanners you managed
to ‘persuade’ Crey to part with. There’s only a few forms to fill out
and everything will be handled.”
“Excellent,
Worthington,” Nao said, taking the clipboard and signing her name and
ID code to it before handing it back. “Was there any resistance?”“Some,
ma’am, but nothing we weren’t able to deal with,” the Wolf Spider said
with a smirk. “The crate is completely sealed and isolated. Until you
open it, nothing’s getting in or out.”
Nao nodded, taking hold of the cart with the large armored crate on it. “Thank you. The fee will be wired to the account.”“Yes, ma’am,” Worthington replied, but Nao’s attention was already elsewhere.
After all, Christmas was nearly here, and there was no way anyone was going to be able to top this.
***
Mickey
was a small time operator. And though this particular job hadn’t been
exceptionally difficult to arrange, as he’d been acting primarily as a
go between, the Family had standards that they adhered to. Tradition and
blood were thicker than money, and thus it was without a trace of irony
that he uttered the typical line completely in fitting with the
cliche’. “You’ve got the money?”
“Of
course,” Galatea said, managing to fit a considerable amount of “are
you really asking me that question?” into two words with only slight
intonation and a raised eyebrow.
“...right,
of course you’ve got the money,” the fence said, thrown off balance by
her complete lack of intimidation. The chick was a Destined One, sure,
but they were a dime a dozen. The Family was big. You’d expect that
there’d be somethng from this little no-name he’d barely heard of. “Well, we got the merchandise then.”“I’m
to be assured it’s authentic?” she asked, her crimson eyes sharpening
as they focused on the small Family operator. “The last time that a
Family nobody like yourself thought he could bully me, he died bleeding
out on the floor. Or has Tommy Fingers been dead so long that I need to
make a new example to encourage proper cooperation?”
The
words were delivered with no malice, threat, or anger. It was a
chilling statement of fact and evaluation that made Mickey certain that
this woman would kill him where he stood if she thought that he was
stiffing her. Abruptly, he found himself reciting his old childhood
Catholic prayers in hopes of not voiding his bowels. “Y-yeah! I checked
it out m’self when I got it from the Whispered Hand. You wanted it, I
got it for ya, no problem!”
Galatea
pinned the Family fence to his chair like a butterfly on a card for a
few moments more before releasing him, pulling up a case and opening it
to reveal several large bundles of large denomination bills. Shutting
it, she slid it across the table.
Mickey,
not wanting to press his new lease on life, snapped his fingers
somewhat shakily, as a pair of muscular mooks brought out a large bag
between them, setting it on the floor. Galatea examined it for a moment
without moving, before nodding. Mickey managed to nod back, not letting
his breath out until the dark haired woman walked out the door, bag over
one shoulder. “Bloody God,” he muttered. “That gal ain’t got blood.
She’s got anti-freeze.”
***
Madigan
was, for once, feeling fairly secure in her day. Christmas had not
caused any massive inconveniences for her, all of her operatives were
now back out of Praetoria without incident, and the new additions to
their number, Ice and Caduceus, had been judged eminently reliable by
Robin and Nena’s independent verification. Even Nena seemed to be more
bright eyed and bushy tailed after that business a few months ago, a
situation that Madigan attributed to her new acquisition, a red haired
young bruiser by the code name of Lithium Cell. Even if she hadn’t been
useful, her bringing Madigan into contact with Battery Acid, who’d gone
looking for her “protege’”, had certainly accelerated Madigan’s own
plans to rely less on Crey resources. All in all, a fairly pleasant
holiday from the early days of chaos, fire, and blood that had marked
her hammering the Scimitars into a reliable unit.
Her
first clue should’ve been the size of the present. Nena slid a rather
sizable gift out from under the tree, the tag saying it was from
Galatea. The young telepath ripped into the gift with abandon, flipping
the lid off, and squealing with glee as the box fell apart and Madigan’s
heart stopped in her chest.
Inside
was a muscular female figure, creatively clad in nothing but a simple
red ribbon looped several times so as to conceal anything and also act
as a source of restraint against movement. White hair and facial
features confirmed themselves with Madigan’s memory even as Nena babbled
an enthusiastic thanks to Galatea. The dark haired woman nodded, before
leaning down by Madigan’s shoulder. “A
duplicate, caught by assassins trying to frame the real Hanagawa for
crimes she hadn’t committed. I purchased her on the chance that having
one of her own would keep Nena from causing problems in the future.
Also, Hanagawa saw her run through by Silent Blade, so she is presumed
dead.”
Madigan blinked, glancing over at her second in command, before her mind began working through what she’d said. The plan was
workable. Nena wans’t interested in physical backup, just physical fun,
and this one was unlikely to attract any attention, given everyone,
including her possible handlers, thought she’d died in her last
confrontation. It was a well-thought through plan that covered their
weaknesses. Just the sort of thing that Galatea would think of. Of
course.
Madigan’s
slowly calming state of mind was interrupted by a small salvo of curses
from nearby, which drew her eye to Nao, Robin, and Jen. The three
Scimitars looked up at her, before abruptly going silent.
“Girls? What is it?” Madigan asked, wary.
Robin and Nao remained silent, before Jen perked up, somewhat comically indignant. “It’s just....Miss Galatea stole our idea!”
“What?”
Madigan said, her mind drawing the obvious conclusion, but her sense of
justice in this world wanting to rail against the concept that this had
happened a little still.
Robin
pressed a button on her PDA while Nao slid a card through a crate with a
bow on it, and Jen snipped the rope on a particularly large, lumpy
sack.
Three similarly decorated and identical Sachie Hanagawas sat in the interiors of all three gifts.
Nena’s
eyes watered up slightly as she looked around, before turning back to
her sisters. “You guys! This is the best Christmas ever!”
Madigan just put a hand to her face, even as Galatea handed her a bottle of aspirin.
It was going to be a long New Year.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
There
was perhaps a greater degree of crime by burgeoning supervillains to
finance their own holiday gift giving, but this just meant that the
crime rate remained steady, while the funds went to different suppliers.
Renegade snowmen ambushing people out of packages were actually a
refreshingly mundane change compared to Arachnos flier raids, Wailer
hordes, Snake burrows, or any of a dozen other ways one could be
injured, killed, or mutated. In the end, the Rogue Isles endured, and
its population hunkered down for the new addition to blow over.
For
Nao, however, the walk into the local Arachnos precinct wasn’t
particularly threatening, even if the Destined One’s right to muck about
didn’t give her some protection. Madigan’s reasons had been her own for
enrolling the young Scimitar in Arachnos’ ground combat forces under a
fake identity, but these days Nao could see the advantages. Operative
Juliet Zhang had access to Arachnos that Kumi Scimitar did not...and the
training had hardened her to the brutal requirements of her real job.
For
now, though, she was enjoying the perks. Wolf Spiders perked up as she
entered, her emerald and gold armor indicating her identity as one of
the elite among their number. It was more than a badge of status; it was
a demonstration that the soldier in question had survived the
initiations set by the sub-set of elite Arachnos troopers that had
already attained their own custom gear. And woe betide any who attempted
to do so unauthorized. Nao ignored the looks for the most part,
concentrating on projecting the proper lack of fear and disdain for
those lower on the food chain than her needed for her role. If any of
the Spiders here scented blood, they’d be on her in a moment. The
retractable claws built into her gauntlets twitched slightly at the
thought.
“Ah,
Operative Zhang,” the quartermaster said as she approached him. “Your
order wasn’t hard to acquire once we received those scanners you managed
to ‘persuade’ Crey to part with. There’s only a few forms to fill out
and everything will be handled.”
“Excellent,
Worthington,” Nao said, taking the clipboard and signing her name and
ID code to it before handing it back. “Was there any resistance?”“Some,
ma’am, but nothing we weren’t able to deal with,” the Wolf Spider said
with a smirk. “The crate is completely sealed and isolated. Until you
open it, nothing’s getting in or out.”
Nao nodded, taking hold of the cart with the large armored crate on it. “Thank you. The fee will be wired to the account.”“Yes, ma’am,” Worthington replied, but Nao’s attention was already elsewhere.
After all, Christmas was nearly here, and there was no way anyone was going to be able to top this.
***
Mickey
was a small time operator. And though this particular job hadn’t been
exceptionally difficult to arrange, as he’d been acting primarily as a
go between, the Family had standards that they adhered to. Tradition and
blood were thicker than money, and thus it was without a trace of irony
that he uttered the typical line completely in fitting with the
cliche’. “You’ve got the money?”
“Of
course,” Galatea said, managing to fit a considerable amount of “are
you really asking me that question?” into two words with only slight
intonation and a raised eyebrow.
“...right,
of course you’ve got the money,” the fence said, thrown off balance by
her complete lack of intimidation. The chick was a Destined One, sure,
but they were a dime a dozen. The Family was big. You’d expect that
there’d be somethng from this little no-name he’d barely heard of. “Well, we got the merchandise then.”“I’m
to be assured it’s authentic?” she asked, her crimson eyes sharpening
as they focused on the small Family operator. “The last time that a
Family nobody like yourself thought he could bully me, he died bleeding
out on the floor. Or has Tommy Fingers been dead so long that I need to
make a new example to encourage proper cooperation?”
The
words were delivered with no malice, threat, or anger. It was a
chilling statement of fact and evaluation that made Mickey certain that
this woman would kill him where he stood if she thought that he was
stiffing her. Abruptly, he found himself reciting his old childhood
Catholic prayers in hopes of not voiding his bowels. “Y-yeah! I checked
it out m’self when I got it from the Whispered Hand. You wanted it, I
got it for ya, no problem!”
Galatea
pinned the Family fence to his chair like a butterfly on a card for a
few moments more before releasing him, pulling up a case and opening it
to reveal several large bundles of large denomination bills. Shutting
it, she slid it across the table.
Mickey,
not wanting to press his new lease on life, snapped his fingers
somewhat shakily, as a pair of muscular mooks brought out a large bag
between them, setting it on the floor. Galatea examined it for a moment
without moving, before nodding. Mickey managed to nod back, not letting
his breath out until the dark haired woman walked out the door, bag over
one shoulder. “Bloody God,” he muttered. “That gal ain’t got blood.
She’s got anti-freeze.”
***
Madigan
was, for once, feeling fairly secure in her day. Christmas had not
caused any massive inconveniences for her, all of her operatives were
now back out of Praetoria without incident, and the new additions to
their number, Ice and Caduceus, had been judged eminently reliable by
Robin and Nena’s independent verification. Even Nena seemed to be more
bright eyed and bushy tailed after that business a few months ago, a
situation that Madigan attributed to her new acquisition, a red haired
young bruiser by the code name of Lithium Cell. Even if she hadn’t been
useful, her bringing Madigan into contact with Battery Acid, who’d gone
looking for her “protege’”, had certainly accelerated Madigan’s own
plans to rely less on Crey resources. All in all, a fairly pleasant
holiday from the early days of chaos, fire, and blood that had marked
her hammering the Scimitars into a reliable unit.
Her
first clue should’ve been the size of the present. Nena slid a rather
sizable gift out from under the tree, the tag saying it was from
Galatea. The young telepath ripped into the gift with abandon, flipping
the lid off, and squealing with glee as the box fell apart and Madigan’s
heart stopped in her chest.
Inside
was a muscular female figure, creatively clad in nothing but a simple
red ribbon looped several times so as to conceal anything and also act
as a source of restraint against movement. White hair and facial
features confirmed themselves with Madigan’s memory even as Nena babbled
an enthusiastic thanks to Galatea. The dark haired woman nodded, before
leaning down by Madigan’s shoulder. “A
duplicate, caught by assassins trying to frame the real Hanagawa for
crimes she hadn’t committed. I purchased her on the chance that having
one of her own would keep Nena from causing problems in the future.
Also, Hanagawa saw her run through by Silent Blade, so she is presumed
dead.”
Madigan blinked, glancing over at her second in command, before her mind began working through what she’d said. The plan was
workable. Nena wans’t interested in physical backup, just physical fun,
and this one was unlikely to attract any attention, given everyone,
including her possible handlers, thought she’d died in her last
confrontation. It was a well-thought through plan that covered their
weaknesses. Just the sort of thing that Galatea would think of. Of
course.
Madigan’s
slowly calming state of mind was interrupted by a small salvo of curses
from nearby, which drew her eye to Nao, Robin, and Jen. The three
Scimitars looked up at her, before abruptly going silent.
“Girls? What is it?” Madigan asked, wary.
Robin and Nao remained silent, before Jen perked up, somewhat comically indignant. “It’s just....Miss Galatea stole our idea!”
“What?”
Madigan said, her mind drawing the obvious conclusion, but her sense of
justice in this world wanting to rail against the concept that this had
happened a little still.
Robin
pressed a button on her PDA while Nao slid a card through a crate with a
bow on it, and Jen snipped the rope on a particularly large, lumpy
sack.
Three similarly decorated and identical Sachie Hanagawas sat in the interiors of all three gifts.
Nena’s
eyes watered up slightly as she looked around, before turning back to
her sisters. “You guys! This is the best Christmas ever!”
Madigan just put a hand to her face, even as Galatea handed her a bottle of aspirin.
It was going to be a long New Year.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."