Note: Thanks for the comments those of you have left.

2.1

April 26, 2011, Puente Antiguo, New Mexico (north of Roswell)

The rock hard sand beneath my boots was covered in an intricate set of runes that were far beyond what I had learned in Loki's primer, and they were literally burned into the ground. Being on one knee, trying desperately not to lose my breakfast, I had a good minute or two to study them. The ride wasn't smooth at all. It made me wonder exactly how the Asgardians traveled like this all the time, entering into battle seconds after arriving. I suppose having a hardier constitution than a mere mortal had something to do with it. Or perhaps the whole "holding your breath to make the ride easier" was a load of crap. Yeah, I could see Heimdall as a troll. The guy had to be bored out of his mind perving on the entire Nine Realms, with nothing else to do.

After swallowing hard for the fourth time I called my spear and used it to help me stand.

"Well that sucked."

A few seconds later I and it seemed as if my body was finally adjusting well enough to dispel the spear and have a look around. It wasn't exactly flatland or rolling dunes like one would expect of the desert, unlike what I'd seen on TV and in the movies. There was that though, and rocky protrusions, not to mention various wildlife. Bugs were aplenty, though most of them would be useless to me at the moment. Unless my estimates were wrong, I had a seven hundred mile trip ahead of me and it was the middle of the night here in an amazingly chilly New Mexico.

I thought the desert was supposed to be hot!

Activating my wings, I shot up into the night sky and closed off my helmet soon after. I wouldn't be going high enough to have a problem with breathing, but going that fast would wreak hell on my complexion. I wasn't so far distanced from my early teen years to where I didn't have to worry about acne. No thanks.

Once I got high enough I looked around and realized I'd probably outdid myself this time. There was a feint aurora being caused by whatever powered my wings. Easing off a little I dropped a few hundred feet and that seemed to do the trick, making me all but invisible unless someone was specifically looking in my direction. Then off I went.

The Hulk, one of the two parahumans Heimdall mentioned to me, was currently south of the border, somewhere in Central America. I wasn't familiar enough with the geography in the area to pin it down more than that, but as long as he stayed put, what he was doing didn't concern me too much.

Iron Man, on the other hand, made his home mostly in California. That was a little too close for comfort considering I was heading to southern Nevada in the Mojave Desert.

Heimdall only watched them long enough to ascertain where they were spending most of their time and not much detail past that. So, it wasn't like I knew if they were part of a team or if they went with more of an independent route. Since they were so far apart I was going with the latter until proved wrong.

While I had a general area I needed to search, it was a big desert. It would have been nice if this high tech armor came with a nice, "You are here. Your destination is there," sign.

The location was remote, so I had that going for me. Contrary to what some people might think, the United States isn't overpopulated in terms of lack of space. They watch movies about living in New York City and think that everything is just as crowded, that people live in tiny no-bedroom apartments and survive on nothing but cup of noodles while they go about their lives. There are some people like that, don't get me wrong.

Thing is, once you get off the East Coast and head west, you can literally walk all day long in places and never see a single person. There are vast areas of empty space, mountains that rarely see any traffic at all, and vast valleys that medium sized cities could thrive within.

This is the only thing that made my destination somewhat easy to find once I was high enough to really look around. It's the lights that give it away, that and the giant white helipad with a black eagle taking up most of the middle.

Below me, out in the middle of nowhere, stood a sprawling building, with only one road, leading to and from Highway 93, east of Mount Tipton. I wouldn't even really call it a road for the most part, but it was well traveled. Two black SUVs were humming along at a good clip while I watched at my vantage point hundreds of yards away.

This was one of those expansive flat areas, well once the mountain was taken out of the equation. The building itself was about three or four stories tall, around two hundred yards wide, and had the air of a secret government facility all over the place: armed guards, random patrols, ten foot tall chain-link fence with razor wire on the top, and from the looks of the yellow lightning bolt signs hanging from the links, I had to say it was electrified as well.

There was no way I would be able to just swoop in, take a look around and swoop back out. This was going to take some time.

~O~

April 28, 2011 Las Vegas, Nevada

Illegal drugs along with the people that sell them are a thing. I'd almost forgotten how much I enjoyed terrifying the latter, and how willing they were to give up everything they took in over a night when presented with one of my bug clones.

After a few takedowns I moved on to the local Wal-Mart and dispelled my armor so I could buy something that wouldn't stand out too much in a crowd, well, that and a few supplies. Granted, my costume wasn't much better, however, it was better to look like someone going to a party instead of an armored goon looking to conquer the local department store. The few looks I received were understanding for the most part. Apparently, Las Vegas was loaded with enough weird looking people for me to appear as one of the locals.

Getting a hotel room was easier than I thought, especially on the edge of town in one of the more low rent areas. Slipping a hundred dollar tip on top of renting it out for the week was enough to get the teen at the counter to look the other way when I couldn't produce a valid ID. I guess it helped that the place was only a third occupied.

My take from the dealers amounted to a little less than a thousand dollars. I'd have to make a few more hits if I was going to be staying for any length of time. Hopefully, I'd be done and gone by then.

Odin's visions didn't give me much to go on in terms of specifics: check out the facility in Nevada and fine out how the low-tech mortals of Midgard could come to interact with the realm of Asgard… and stop it.

Simple. At least, one would think.

With the way governments work, all I'd have to do was make it more expensive to continue with a project than the end result would warrant. Bugs were good for this type of work. If I could figure out what was going on in the building, I'd swarm it and break it with my bugs. They'd have to replace or repair the problem, and then I'd break it again, ad infinitum. Eventually, they'd quit or move it to another location where I'd screw with them again until they gave up.

It was a no-brainer plan and wouldn't even take up much of my time once implemented. Though there would be a lot of sitting around and waiting involved. That's why I had a nice large stack of magazines at my disposal.

~O~

April 30, 2011 Mojave Desert, Nevada

Day four was turning out to be annoying. From my research of the area, it rained on average around four days out of an entire year. Guess what day it was?

I defaulted to my valkyrie armor for the trek up the mountainside this time. It was sealed tight against the elements, thankfully. My swarm was taking point ahead of me, as usual, giving me a visual layout of the surrounding area, but they were severely hampered by the downpour. When I landed, I was in the midst of deciding to call it a day, because I couldn't see much more than fifty yards ahead of me. Everything turned into a gray fog of rain and vapor rising off the heated ground, and I had no idea how long it was supposed to last.

"Excuse me," a male voice said from the side.

I jerked and spun on him only to find he was well out of my reach and backed up by four others holding rather large weapons trained on me. They were all guys, all in the six-foot range in height, and all of them were wearing rain ponchos to protect them from the elements. The lead guy, who I assumed was the one that caught me off-guard, held out a billfold with a gold badge secured inside.

"I'm Agent Phil Coulson of SHIELD." He flipped it closed and tucked it away. "You're on restricted land, and while I have to say I like the armor, I have to wonder why exactly you have been watching our facility for the last four days?"

I could get away easily. My armor and the costume underneath was more than proof against their bullets. My wings would take less than a second to activate and blast me well away from their range soon thereafter. However, they were aware of me already. I probably wouldn't get another chance to observe them, and I definitely wouldn't get a chance to see what was going on inside that building.

"Would you believe I'm from another world and I'm here to stop an interplanetary war from erupting?" I said rather bluntly.

He looked as if he was going to say something and then stopped. "I was going to say I've heard stranger things, but I think you've just made the top of the list."

I just smiled as well as I could under the circumstances.

"Why don't you stand there for a few minutes," he replied. "I'll be right back."

He turned away and then stopped and looked back. "You wouldn't by any chance know about a bright blue beam of light that appeared in the sky above Puente Antiguo a few nights ago and left behind a fancy design a lot like what's on your armor, would you?"

Raising a hand slightly I said, "Guilty."

"Good to know. I'll be right back."

The other four guys didn't seem much for chatting, so I stood there in the torrential downpour and waited for Phil to make a call. I couldn't even muster up enough bugs to listen in on his side of the conversation before they were washed away in the rain.

When he finally returned he gestured down the other side of the mountain we were on, toward the facility. "My boss would like to have a few words with you, if you don't mind."

Walking, yeah. No. While I wasn't a klutz by far, I was sure I'd fall on my ass a dozen times or more before we made it to the bottom and across the mud-filled landscape.

"No car?" I asked.

He smiled knowingly. "We didn't want to spook you until we had a chance to talk."

I nodded. "Right. I have a faster way to get there, not to mention much safer."

He cocked his head slightly with a confused look on his face. "You don't… have a spaceship up there do you?"

"No." With a thought, my wing constructs popped out and I stepped in and wrapped an arm around Phil's waist. "Hold on."

Agent Coulson's eyes widened. "What? Wait!"

We didn't wait. I shot up into the sky, but kept it low enough not to really freak him out. Ten seconds later we were touching down on the front steps of the facility where I finally got the chance to read what was written on the sign outside.

Joint Dark Energy Mission

Western Division

Project Pegasus

NASA Space Radiation Facility

S.H.I.E.L.D. Accelerator Testing Ground

Yeah, most of that was more than a little suspicious. What the heck was Dark Energy? Additionally, if there was a Western Division, that meant there was more than one out there, and I didn't have a clue as to the location of any of the others.

Phil appeared slightly rattled, but held it together rather admirably as he adjusted his poncho. "Did you miss the part where I said 'wait'?"

I shrugged. "Most people get panicked when the thought of flying under someone else's power comes up; this way it's done and over with. Besides, I don't know if you realized it or not, but it's raining really hard."

He cleared his throat and noted that the guards had made an appearance. With a wave of his hand they stood down, but kept me under close watch. I tried not to let it get to me. Once we were inside the front doors Phil unbuttoned the poncho and handed it off while someone passed on a couple of towels, which I was thankful for. While my armor shed the water quickly enough, my hair outside of my helmet was drenched.

"So, your name?" Phil asked as he patted his hands with the towel.

Being who I was, I'd already thought about this part. I didn't need any more villainous monikers attached to me on a brand new Earth. However, I did want to keep the nature of my true powers under wraps, at least until my mission was finished, or until it became impractical. Already wearing my Asgardian armor was rather fortuitous.

"Valkyrie."

He paused for a moment; I suppose to think over the ramifications of the name. "That's a very specific designation, and considering the style of your armor, not to mention the wings… were they real, by the way?"

"Energy construct."

"Ah. Anyway… I'm guessing there's a Norse theme involved?"

"Sort of." I glanced at the guards. "Do you want to do this here?"

"I'm tempted, but we have a more secure area."

Of course they did. Phil gestured to the right and I followed along while I was checking out the area with the bugs that were already indoors. It was a lot bigger on the inside and not in a Doctor Who kind of way. There had to be a number of underground floors beneath the building and one really big one at the very bottom, by the feedback I was getting more than a hundred feet down. Needless to say we didn't go very far and there wasn't an elevator in sight. I'd say Agent Coulson was very cautious about what he was allowing me to see. After all, this was a research facility from the public's point of view.

It was a small conference room. Dark colored wooden table, six generic chairs, and nothing overly comfortable. The widescreen on the wall was dark, along with the single laptop at one end of the table.

Roaches and spiders in the wall told me there was something up there that wasn't in the general area of the lights or the outlets. I guessed they were security cameras by the configuration.

When the door was closed, he turned to me and gestured to a chair on the other side of the table.

"We were talking about your Norse theme," he prompted.

"Asgardian actually."

By this time I think he was well enough indoctrinated to expect pretty much anything coming out of my mouth.

"I see… the pantheon, I presume? You're saying you're a god?"

Apparently, he thought he was dealing with a crazy person with high tech gizmos or something.

"No, not me. Though some of the people I work for might think so."

He nodded and folded his arms across his chest. "Let's talk about them."

With a shrug I didn't see anything really wrong with that, since he already knew something was up. If I was going to spend the rest of my life on this Earth, I'd rather not make overly powerful enemies in less than a week of my first day on the ground. Friends and allies; I could definitely do with some of those.

"They're really long-lived, like thousands of years long, and they have severally advanced technology. That's where the whole mythology came from. They used to hang out on Earth from time to time and the Norse people looked at them as gods, thought they used magic, and so on."

"Ah, any sufficiently advanced technology…." He left the rest hanging. "Makes sense. So, just for argument's sake, we're talking Odin…?"

"Thor, Loki, Sif, Brunnhilda, Heimdall," I continued. "All of them."

"And you take the souls of the heroic dead to… where was it again?"

"Valhalla. Yes, but not technically. They haven't done that for about a thousand years. We're more mission specialists now."

"Which brings us to your visit."

I leaned back on my chair and narrowed my eyes at him. While his belief wasn't exactly important to my mission, I did need to stall long enough to search the place with my bugs. At this point I really didn't know if he was buying any of this. So I pulled my serving platter out of my pocket dimension.

Phil blinked as I set it down on the table, clearly unsettled at my casual display. "Where did…?"

"It's part of my power, and it's a good way not to go hungry in a strange place. Fruit?" I offered.

Plucking a yellow apple off the top, I bit into it and chewed as he looked back and forth from the tray to me.

"Asgardian fruit?"

I nodded. "The apples taste like apples here, a little sweeter. The red things taste like passion fruit just not as messy. The green and purple ones are veggies. They're kind of bland, but nutritious. Go on. They're perfectly okay to eat."

Maybe he just didn't want to look like he was cautious of Asgardians bearing fruit, but he did take one of the small red ones.

"Safe for humans?" he asked.

"I'm human," I clarified. "I'm not Asgardian, so, yeah."

Phil sniffed it and then took a small bite. "Hmm."

The platter disappeared a second later.

"Where does it go?"

"Brunnhilda calls it the Heavenly Realm."

"Brunnhilda."

"She's the head valkyrie; my boss."

He nodded and took another bite. "It's good."

I took another bite and eventually swallowed. "Anyway. Odin had a vision."

"He does this a lot? I thought he rode around on a six-legged horse."

I shrugged. "Never saw it. He tends to sit on his throne and look constipated for the most part, but he's also a straight-shooter from what I can tell. We don't really interact much, but Brunnhilda vouches for him."

"Your boss."

"Right."

Once Phil finished with the fruit, he grabbed a tissue and wiped off his fingers. "So, interplanetary war?"

2.2

Phil was nice enough to send out for a cup of tea. I expected a very long talk if SHIELD could be compared to any other government agencies I've dealt with. Proper whistle wetting was a must in these sorts of situations. By these sorts I mean congenial interrogations, because that's what this was. He was smooth enough at first, but I could see a certain type of style with the method he used on me. It was one that said, "Since you're cooperating, I'll be nice to you, but don't expect me to go easy."

When I sat the cup down after my first sip, I nodded. "Thanks. All that rain out there and I'm still dry-mouthed. Isn't it ironic?"

His brows furrowed and I watched as his lips twitched at the same time. "Alanis Morissette?"

"Who," I replied somewhat confused.

He shook his head. "Songwriter; she did a thing; not important. We were talking about the war."

"Right." With a gesture, a box appeared on the table and Phil jerked.

"I really wish you would warn me before you do things like that."

"Sorry. It's my stash container. I just can't send every little thing away. It would take far too long to prepare them and… nevermind. The box has my stuff in it. It'll be easier to explain with visual aids."

When I folded the lid over, Phil leaned toward me to look inside. From the expression on his face I think he was disappointed to find it pretty cluttered.

"I just bought some things, clothes and supplies, so I could fit in."

"Uh-huh," he commented nonchalantly. "What all is in there?"

Oh, he was probably looking for weapons or maybe a bomb. "The worst thing is a couple of pepper sprays, but they're in the backpack."

"I could have sworn valkyries were supposed to carry a spear, or maybe it was a sword."

"Both. Usually not at the same time," I replied. "I'm more of a Smith and Wesson kind of girl. I wasn't always a valkyrie."

He seemed interested in that particular point, but kept on watching me dig through the box. "Really? So, it's more of a job?"

"Brunnhilda recruited me from Valhalla."

"Don't you have to be dead to go there?"

"Pretty much," I said as I finally found what I was looking for and pulled out the long sheets of what passed for paper in Asgard. "I was shot twice in the head. Next thing I know I was walking into this really big tavern."

Phil's eyes popped up, looking for evidence I suppose.

I pointed to my forehead. "Right here; shot from behind."

"You seemed to have gotten over it pretty well."

"Odin again. The heroes in Valhalla heal over time, or else they'd be pretty much useless whenever Ragnarök came about. Odin accelerated the process and turned me into a valkyrie."

When I flipped the lid closed, Phil turned his head to take in the drawings. "Is that… Captain America?"

"Who?"

He reached out with a hand. "Do you mind?"

I shrugged and slid them over.

"Steve Rogers was the world's first recorded superhero, back in the forties. His plane went down and the body was never found." He studied with the drawling with intense interest, almost boyish if I had to throw a label on the expression. "It's an amazing likeness, but the helmet is all wrong. Where did you get this?"

"Odin. His vision was a bunch of snapshots of the future. This was one of them."

Phil looked up at me. I could swear that I thought he was going to pop right there on the spot. Instead, he set everything down on the table and started spreading the sheets apart, taking each one in as he did. Once he made it to the girl with the red hair and blood dripping down her face, his body language nearly shut down and he went cold.

"You know these people," I concluded.

He didn't bother acknowledging what I knew was fact. "What is this?"

"That… I don't know." I leaned forward and saw the blue beam of light that wasn't the same color as the Bifrost. "It's not good though. That one and this one over here is what spooked Odin the most."

I moved a picture of a green monster out of the way and pointed to the one underneath.

"Is that an explosion?" he asked. "And what's with the circle? It looks like clouds or maybe smoke on the outside and an explosion on the inside."

Leaning back, I settled onto my chair and watched him. "Unknown. Look at the background, around the explosion. That isn't debris from the blast; they're stars, and then only inside the circle."

Phil pressed his lips together, most likely arranging all the pieces of the puzzle in his mind and coming to the same conclusion that the Asgardians did. At that point he started gathering all the sheets.

"I'm getting copies made of these."

I nodded. "I guess I'll be waiting here."

"This shouldn't take long. I'll be back."

He was already tagged with a few flies, so were the guards just outside the door.

~O~

"Hey Boss."

"Coulson. Are you buying any of this?"

Someone with a rather deep and commanding voice stood in the middle of the room where Phil eventually wound up. It seemed to be some sort of command center or maybe just an observation room, which would make sense considering the cameras I noticed earlier. A dozen or so monitors were lined up on the wall. If I could only see them then I'd be happy.

"Let's say that I've seen some really questionable things in the last hour. I have them routing the pictures here as soon as they're scanned in. Take a look at the first one."

I sipped at the last of the tea in my cup and attempted to look nonchalant as I was listening in through my bugs.

"Hng. While I admit there's a good resemblance, this couldn't be Rogers. The man's been dead for over sixty years."

"Are you thinking clone or maybe a descendent?" Phil asked.

"It's a possibility; one that I'm not too happy with, but that doesn't explain the others. What's she doing with a picture of the Black Widow?"

"A lot of red flags are being raised that I don't have answers for. She claims that Odin had a vision and these are the scenes he saw."

"Yeah, I was here for that part. I see a lot of high-tech toys. Does she have any hard evidence to support her claim?"

"Like an Asgardian passport? I don't know, Boss. Short of visiting the place myself I still have a hard time believing most of what she's saying, but she does have a reasonable answer for every question I ask. To top that off she's saying it all with a straight face. I don't read any deception off of her and that makes me nervous."

"Clench up. Barton's eyes are off, then there's Stark, Romanoff, Banner, Rogers… who's this guy?"

"Erik Selvig; Professor of Theoretical Astrophysics at Culver University. He was brought in by Jane Foster in Puente Antiguo to help explain what's going on down there."

"Which we're now attributing to Valkyrie's arrival by the blue beam of light thing in the middle of nowhere." There was a brief pause before he continued. "I don't like crap like this going on in my backyard, Coulson, especially not with what we've got downstairs. Dig deeper with this Valkyrie. I want proof positive she is who she says she is before we take another step."

"You want me to hold her?"

"Can we hold her?"

"Unknown. She's displayed some interesting abilities already, and I'm not exactly sure what kind of metal that armor is made of. Ideally, I'd like to not find out if she can pull something out of that Heavenly Realm of hers that could level the building."

The boss guy chuckled. "Run with what you're already doing, drain her dry of intelligence and I'll make my decision after. Get me some proof she's from another world or Asgard or wherever. The Council wouldn't even consider changing the game plan without something really big getting in the way, and I'm not likely to either. For all we know, she's from this other world we're supposed to get into this war with, and they sent her here to infiltrate. I'd do the same thing in a heartbeat."

~O~

When Phil returned, it was with my pictures in hand which I returned to the box before dispelling it once more.

"How do you do that?" he asked.

It wasn't exactly a surprise that they'd try to pump me for any and all information. Like his boss said earlier, I'd do the same thing in a heartbeat, especially if it looked useful.

"I get that you want to know everything about me, Agent Coulson, and if we work together to end this threat, then I'll tell you pretty much everything that you want to know."

He smiled lightly. "That obvious, huh?"

"I'd do the same. Anyway, as far as I know this is a valkyrie thing or maybe an Asgardian thing. I know how to activate it, but not the science around the process."

Phil nodded. "So it is science and not magic."

With a shrug I leaned back. "I think they're pretty much the same thing on Asgard."

"Hm. My boss wants proof that you are who you say you are."

This time I was ahead of the game and already thought of a few responses for the more obvious questions or demands.

"Short of taking you to Asgard personally, I don't know how. Even then, what will that prove? You won't know if our intentions are sincere or not."

He seemed interested in that option. "Can you take someone with you?"

"Depends on Heimdall; he's the one at the controls, and he's not supposed to retrieve me until my mission is complete."

"Heimdall?"

"He's the one that guards the Bifrost. That's how I got here."

"The blue beam of light."

"Right. He cranks up the machine. I step into the beam and it shoots me from there to here."

"Interesting."

"Nauseating."

He crossed his arms again and looked at me. "You don't get used to it over time?"

"Uh, maybe. Since it was my first time I don't know."

Something obviously clicked in his head, and he made a small leap in thought. "This is your first mission."

"Like I said, I was recruited from Valhalla. They wanted a mortal so I'd fit in better."

When he shifted I could almost tell he thought he'd caught me in a lie. "Ever since we first spotted you we've been running your face through our recognition programs. We're coming up dry."

"Maybe you don't have all the faces in the US included?"

"We're very thorough; the database is very comprehensive."

That made me wonder exactly how big this organization was. Did they work hand in hand with the CIA and the FBI? Alphabet agencies usually only carried images of people of interest. Maybe the NSA?

"Alternate Earth?"

Phil blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I'm from an alternate earth."

"I thought you were from Asgard."

"Originally, I was from Earth Bet. We had a planet-wide war. I was killed and wound up in Valhalla."

He nodded, seemingly unsurprised at my answer. "Are you from anywhere before that?"

"Not that I know of."

By that point, my inspection of the floors below ground was pretty much complete and I was annoyed at not finding anything, especially since the boss here acknowledged that something big was downstairs. Granted there were a lot of places that I couldn't get into: containers, cleanrooms, and so forth. I could manage it with more time, but by the first pass I got nothing. If the big item was here, it was thoroughly sealed away from prying eyes and prying bugs or I just plain didn't recognize what it was.

That wasn't out of the realm of possibility. While I wasn't expecting a glowing neon sign that read, "Mysterious item here!" I was at least hoping for a specific place where a number of people were congregated above others. I didn't even get that. Everyone that I'd tagged looked no different from any other office building I've invaded. People were simply going about their business.

I did find the elevators though.

"Let's talk about the Asgardians."

With a shrug I nodded. "What do you want to know?"

"You said you originally aren't one, so let's go from there."

Other than gaining intelligence on the other side I really didn't think much of telling him everything he wanted to know. Most of the big names were already legend and it's not like they had the ability to even find the place much less attack it if they were so inclined.

"The people are pretty much the same from the mythology, at least the ones I read about. I've told you some of their names already. One of the books I read while I was there was a brief, sixth grade type primer of the Nine Realms: names of the others, the locals, and so on. They weren't big on the details since it really wasn't part of my mission."

He nodded. "Give me some examples."

I blew out a breath at what he was asking for. I was really the wrong person to bring out for a history lesson.

"I'm not exactly knowledgeable about the subject."

Phil waved my concern away. "A simple prospective is fine. It'll back up whatever our researchers can dig up."

"Okay. Well Earth is Midgard. Then you have Vanaheim, Nidavellir, Alfheim, Jotunheim, Muspelheim, Svartalfheim and Niflheim. Asgard rules over all of them and basically slaps them down if any of the tries to start a war. Like the Dark Elves did five thousand years ago. They're all dead now."

Phil cocked his head. "All of them?"

"I guess. Like I said, it was a very basic info guide."

"So… Asgardians are not above genocide."

Oh shit. That sounded really bad, but I suppose it was pretty much true. "From what I read, they were going to destroy the universe, so Odin's father was backed into a corner."

"Why would someone want to destroy the universe? Isn't that where they live?"

"I have absolutely no idea, and I really think you should talk to someone that actually does before passing judgement on them."

"Fair enough. Can you call them up?"

And there was the crux of the situation. My mission was to find out what was going on and stop it from happening. I suppose having some sort of negotiations between the worlds would count… maybe. Huh. I was almost disappointed. It's been something like three weeks since I killed anything or even caused massive amounts of destruction. Maybe this was the beginning of a new me. Maybe Skitter and Weaver were people of a bygone era that didn't have to define who I was anymore. Maybe I could just talk my way through situations instead of escalating everything until death and destruction were the means and the ends.

"We need a place where we won't be seen. Las Vegas isn't exactly far enough away."

Phil nodded. "Right. Big beam of light. I'll see what I can do."

~O~

The day wore on and I wound up relaying the general stuff that most likely didn't mean anything to anyone. Seriously, I didn't go to very many places while I was there, so it wasn't like I was able to talk troop numbers or weapons capabilities. They pretty much kept me secluded in the training area, my room, and places between until the last day or so. Maybe Brunnhilda knew that I'd sing like a canary when I got here.

Now that I come to think on it, they were probably expecting me to do just that. It's not like I owed them my loyalty. Sure, they saved my life, but that was about it. They really didn't go out of their way to endear themselves to me or anything of the sort. Well, Brunnhilda did, but one person out of a couple of dozen that I interacted with? That didn't really jibe with normal personal interactions, from my experience anyway.

These were Asgardians though. They didn't necessarily have to fall in line with human expectations.

"Why are you scowling?" Phil asked me as we were riding in the back of a helicopter to the middle of nowhere. Apparently there were a lot of these places in the desert.

"I think I've been played."

"How so?"

"I'm not exactly sure yet. I let you know when I figure it out."

When we landed, I hadn't even cleared the rotors of the helicopter before the Bifrost had been activated and the sand exploded about fifty yards in front of us. At least it wasn't raining anymore.

"Yep. I was played."

"Should I be worried?" he asked.

"No. For some reason they weren't supposed to be coming down here. That's why they brought me onboard. I'm human, so me coming here isn't a problem, but now someone from here, in authority, has requested they come down," I explained.

He nodded, picking up where I was going. "It's not their fault anymore. We asked them to come. Which leads me to my next question: a thousand years ago, why did the Asgardians leave and not come back?"

I frowned and noticed Brunnhilda step out of the beam along with someone who really didn't belong in this type of situation.

"The one on the left is my boss, Brunnhilda, leader of the Valkyrior."

"Another valkyrie – and the other one?"

"Thor."

Phil turned his head slightly. "As in the Thor?"

"That's the one. Note the hammer. Hide your women."

He threw up a perfunctory smile at the two new visitors and whispered. "You owe me an explanation for that last shot."

"Beefcake, 'nuff said."

"Ah."

"Taylor," Brunnhilda spoke upon her approach. "The Allfather sends his regards."

I flinched slightly when she used my real name. We really had to sit down and talk about the unwritten rules. Phil and his team of researchers now had a name to add to their endless search. I don't know if he bought the whole alternate Earth bit from before.

"Brunnhilda of Asgard," I said congenially, "Meet Agent Phil Coulson of SHIELD."

She already had him in height in her bare feet. Add boots and her valkyrie helmet and Brunnhilda nearly towered over Phil.

"A pleasure," she replied.

"Welcome to Earth. And you would be Thor."

"I am, Phil, son of Coul." He looked around and raised a brow. "Midgard has changed since last I set foot on this ground. A desolate place it has become."

"We're in the States, not Norway," I said, wanting desperately to add, 'you idiot' to the end.

Why did they bother sending someone that wasn't the least bit familiar with the area or the culture? Meh, that's why I was there, I suppose.

"States?" Thor said, somewhat confused. "What are these states you speak of?"

Phil broke in before I had the chance. "The United States of America. Norway is on the other side of the world and a little more north of here."

"Odinson," Brunnhilda interrupted. "The Allfather sent us here for a purpose, not to sightsee."

He didn't take it as a rebuke, just gave a sharp nod and looked to Phil. "Come, son of Coul; take us to your ruler. We have dread matters to discuss that concern the safety of the Nine Realms."

I glanced at my boss and shook my head in disbelief. She set a hand on my shoulder and leaned in while the guys headed to the helicopter.

"He is soon to be crowned King of Asgard. Remember this, Taylor."

2.3

May 3, 2011

Officially, it was the second day of talks. I don't know if it would technically be considered negotiations since it wasn't like they were battling over land rights or the ending of a war, but there was bartering involved, and I was fairly sure I overheard mention of Asgardian support of one type or another. Brunnhilda, the only person on Earth at the moment who knew the most about my power, forbade me from listening in on the private talks. I didn't see what the big deal was, but she explained it as bargaining in good faith. It was the Asgardian version of the Golden Rule.

When I let her know there were cameras covering every square inch of that building, recording everything that was said or done, it didn't make any difference whatsoever. Asgardians were the bigger people in this instance, in her eyes anyway. That didn't stop me from making it known to Phil that I knew they were watching.

He just took it in stride, like it was simply a fact of life that he'd be recorded doing the least little thing when at the facility.

While they did that, I showed Brunnhilda around Sin City, at least the parts that I'd already visited. It was really weird being in a place where parahumans, or their equivalent, barely existed, where the common person off the streets didn't have to worry about someone flying in and melting their car for no particular reason. There weren't any PRT trucks racing down the street to contain the next big threat, no Wards interacting with the locals or signing autographs, and no sense of impending doom on the horizon in the form of the Endbringers. Best of all, there was no Scion.

Granted, there was a Hulk, which turned out to be the green monster in Odin's picture. He rampaged every so often in different parts of the world, but there was no horrendous death count to speak of. It was just average everyday people going about doing average everyday things.

In other words, it was awful.

I was going stir crazy with want of something to do; anything. I think that's why Brunnhilda had me out and about, dressing in civilian clothes that she thought were quaint looking. Me? I felt dumpy wearing a pair of linen shorts and a thin cami to escape the desert heat, while she was the picture of poise and muscled grace in a pair of jeans and a colorful tank. Of course, she'd look awesome in anything she wore.

While there weren't any comedic face-plants while we walked down Las Vegas Boulevard, men didn't even bother approaching her. They just stood out of the way and stared.

This was obviously a very bad idea. Sure, I wasn't biting at the bit to hunt down some sort of criminal element, but my ego and self-image were taking a massive thrashing.

"Are all of Midgard's cities like this?" she asked

I glanced around at all the glitz and glamor with a measuring eye. "If it's anything like my Earth, then no. People come here to gamble, drink, and generally to do things they'd be less likely to do at home where they're supposedly more civilized. That's probably saying it mildly."

She quirked a smile. "I understand. We all must have a place where our darker selves are allowed to be set free."

That didn't make me feel any less disturbed about what went on around here. "There's a difference between relaxation and debauchery."

"You mistake what amounts to escapism for something more sinister, Taylor. Within each of us is something more malevolent than we'd ordinarily show to those that know us best – something selfish and dark. It must be given free reign from time to time or the beast inside will express itself, will find a way out at a less than opportune time."

I shot her a brief look and then set my attention in front of us in an attempt to change the subject. "Am I finished here – for Odin, I mean."

"On Midgard? That depends on you."

"What's that mean?"

Brunnhilda stopped in front of a storefront and looked curiously at the display in the window. I pulled up to her side and tried to wait patiently.

"If you so choose, I can conclude your duty to the Valkyrior and you may go about whatever business you desire, here and not on Asgard. However, I wish you to consider something."

If it was going back to the training grounds and being the local pariah then I'd have to choose a big fat no.

She looked down at me. "What would you do here?"

I suddenly found myself with nothing to do with my hands, so I shoved them into my pockets. "I don't know. It's… too peaceful. I'm used to barely having time to breathe much less entire days of doing nothing. I guess maybe go back to school? Get a job? I don't know. I haven't really put much thought into life beyond the cape."

She nodded. "Understandable. The impact you…."

When Brunnhilda continued down the sidewalk I had to stop her with a hand to her upper arm. That's when the high-pitched scream coming from the guy darting out from between stores interrupted the flow of pedestrian traffic. Hot on his trail was a swarm of wasps that had been nesting not too far away. The guy ran out into the boulevard, slapping at his own face, and straight into a moving van, before bouncing off of it and staggering away as fast as his legs would take him.

Brunnhilda glanced back at me and I shrugged.

"He was mugging someone… or about to anyway." I looked around the side of the store and there was a middle-aged guy in a Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts picking up his wallet from the ground. "You okay?"

He nodded bewildered. "They came out of nowhere."

"Huh," I returned. "Weird."

Another scream came from down the street – same guy, judging from the pitch. I guess my wasps caught him. Well, I didn't really have to guess. They gave him two stings to the back of his neck and afterward I steered them away and back above the stores out of sight.

"No more shortcuts," he mumbled before he increased his speed away from the scene.

I sighed, almost euphoric. After going so long between incidents it was like starting my cape career all over again. The quick and easy satisfaction of helping an average everyday citizen had been lost to me years ago. Everything I became involved in was large scale life and death. It was nice to just help without making a gigantic production of the situation.

Brunnhilda suppressed a smile, but I could see she was chuckling underneath it all. "I was concerned that this would be more challenging. I think you need something to keep you occupied beyond the occasional… mugging did you say?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, already seeing that she had something planned for me that I might object to. "What would be more challenging?"

"If the talks are fruitful then my people will be coming here on occasion. We have lost relics that were left behind a millennium ago, items that would cause havoc if found by mortal men. We intend to retrieve and secure them elsewhere. While Midgard is still using ancient technology compared to Asgardian, they are not far from making their presence known to the greater galaxy. If you are willing, I would like you to remain here and be the face of Asgard amongst your kind."

"Face," I said more to myself than to her.

While I definitely wouldn't mind hanging onto the armor for its flight capability alone, I didn't know if remaining a valkyrie and having to eventually answer to Thor of all people was the wisest decision to make. I just could just see him yelling for "another" and me sending him a mouth full of bugs. Then there would be this big battle and things just get really messy soon afterward.

"Why would you want me of all people hanging around?" I asked. "I'm not exactly popular with your king and the guy that's soon to be king."

That seemed to have pressed the wrong button with my boss.

"I was not born only of Asgard, Taylor. Have care how you speak of outsiders, especially if you still think of yourself in such a way," she said rather dramatically. "It was the Allfather that chose an outsider, me, above all others even his own kin, his favorites. While the Odinson is lacking in certain qualities that some might think are needed in a true leader, do not think him thoroughly imprudent. He may be rash at times, when his temper is high, but he has been guided by Odin himself in the ways of his role as leader to the citizens of Asgard and the Nine Realms as a whole."

She had to be kidding somewhat. "You don't consider me an outsider on Asgard?"

"New perhaps, but someone that doesn't belong? No more than a number of others that eventually comes to be considered brother and sister among those that have lived there all their lives. Hogun the Grim, for instance, is Vanir. His homeworld is Vanaheim, yet he is one of Thor's closest friends and allies. At some point even Hogun was what you consider an outsider."

That wasn't as great of an endorsement as one might think. Becoming what amounts to the equivalent of a frat brother with a sword wasn't exactly a goal in my life. I had no desire to become the second coming of Sif.

"Odin learned long ago that popularity has no place when filling certain roles," she mused. "While he might question my decision as to who I bring into the Valkyrior, he has always ceded to my choices, and not one of them has ever been wrong. You deserve the chance to prove your right to be there, Taylor, to him and to yourself."

"Why would I want to?" I said before actually thinking. "I mean…."

"I know of what you speak," she replied grimly. "This is why I would prefer to have the Valkyrior training grounds somewhere other than butting up on the palace itself. My valkyries have enough on their minds without having to suffer the indignity of being looked down upon at first. However, such is that way in every walk of life. Am I mistaken?"

I sighed and reached up to rub between my eyes as I thought of how things were when I first started out as a cape. Lisa, with Brian as a close second, was the only one that really saw beyond the geeky girl that threw bugs at Lung. When I joined the Wards, my team was the only one that even wanted me in Chicago, much less out of prison.

"No; you're right."

With a nod Brunnhilda seemed at ease again. "Then take my advice, Taylor. Remain as you are – one of the Valkyrior. Use this mantle as you will, with honor of course. Aid those on Midgard in the name of Asgard. I would even go so far as to suggest building a comradery with this group you encountered. They seem somewhat powerful in this land."

My shoulders dropped and I nearly groaned. "I'm not joining SHIELD… but I'll make myself available if they need help."

With a sharp nod, Brunnhilda smiled. "A wise decision."

~O~

When we returned to the facility I made myself comfortable in the original conference room where Phil interrogated me, while Brunnhilda went off to do whatever it was she was doing here. Setting my bag of purchases on the table I pulled out the X-acto knife I bought and started practicing my runes. It was better than sitting around doing nothing but listening into meetings that I shouldn't be listening to in the first place. Seriously though, why shouldn't I? The golden rule never really worked where I was concerned anyway.

"… will not be one of your warriors, Agent Coulson."

"Agents," he corrected. "If you want her to work with SHIELD then she will have to go through the training like everyone else. She couldn't be more than eighteen or nineteen years old. Normally…."

Brunnhilda's voice took on an edge that makes most people back away when she used it. "Taylor is a valkyrie of Asgard. She has seen and participated in more battles than you could dream of against foes more powerful than her by several orders of magnitude. Still she prevailed."

"Coulson," yelled the boss guy from across the room. "What's this?"

"Sorry, Boss. Brunnhilda was telling me about Valkyrie's qualifications. I was considering sponsoring her for training at the academy."

"Yeah, I heard that part. What's this about fighting powerful people?"

"Taylor originates from an alternate Midgard where your Iron Man and Hulk are a two among tens of thousands of what she would call parahumans – those with powers far above those of the average mortal."

"You don't say," the Boss replied with increased interest. "So she has a lot of experience taking these parahumans down?"

"If by 'taking down' you mean was she a member of the local law enforcement and was she directly responsible for defeating even the most powerful among them, then yes."

The room went quiet for a few moments before the boss stood. "I think this is good time for a break, Prince Thor. I'll have someone bring you some lunch. Coulson, take care of our guest."

I tried my best to not respond to what was being said, even when I already told Brunnhilda to go easy on who she announces my name to, but this was all about me. So I took a nice cleansing breath and leaned back with my X-acto knife and a block of wood, trying my best to remain looking bored while the leader of this place was making wide strides in my direction.

Needless to say, he didn't bother knocking.

"You're Valkyrie," he said as a matter of fact.

I tilted my head up just a little and made a minor show of still concentrating on my work. "And you're…?"

"Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD."

Well, that put an end to my speculating as to how high up the ladder this guy stood upon. Apparently, it was the very top. He had a presence about him, even beyond the whole dressed totally in black thing he had going, not to mention the eyepatch covering his left eye, the overly long leather jacket, and the two pistols he had hiding one underneath each arm.

I already had a number of bugs on him and found more than the average person's fair share of weapons: a knife off center at the small of his back and a back-up strapped to his calf. This didn't count whatever was folded up in his jacket pockets. I guessed when told you'd be meeting an ancient Norse god then you'd come prepared. Personally, I think I would have brought a rocket launcher.

"Your valkyrie buddy in the room down the hall had some interesting things to say about you."

With a wry smile I looked back down to my block of wood. "You're here to make the pitch, I'm guessing?"

"What pitch is that?"

"The one where you want me to take down the parahumans that are annoying you. The Hulk I presume. From what I've seen of Iron Man, he's more help than hindrance."

He shot a quick glance at me and started to slowly pace the room. I guess that's where Phil picked up the mild intimidation trick from.

"You would presume wrong. As long as you leave the Hulk alone then he's not much of an issue. Stark is… well, he's Stark. Tell me about some of the threats you've gone against."

"Why?"

He didn't even break stride. "I'm told you want to stick around here on Earth. You have to have a paper presence in order to have a life here. SHIELD can provide that, amongst other things."

I shrugged and tried to play the situation as cool as I could. While it would be nice to have just that, I didn't want him to know I was fairly eager for the opportunity. I learned long ago not to show all my cards at the first go-around.

"I'm not one for bragging. That's where the Asgardians and I differ. Suffice to say when I'm pointed toward a mission I make sure it's complete, usually to the annoyance of those that only want to look good for the public or for those above them on the food chain."

He nodded. "You dot your I's and cross your T's; is that what you're saying?"

I shook my head. "No. I mean if I go in to take out the bad guy, I don't stop in the middle of a mission to ponder if I'm doing the right thing anymore. If somewhere along the way I find out that I'm not doing the right thing, well that typically goes bad for the guy that sent me on the mission to begin with. I don't usually take orders without cause and explanations, Director Fury; I'm the one that gives them."

He shrugged, almost uncaring. "SHIELD wouldn't be your thing then. I do have a better idea for your talents, though. The idea is to bring together a group of remarkable people, see if they become something more. See if they can work together when we needed them to. To fight the battles that we never could."

My brows furrowed and I set my block of wood down. "You know about more parahumans?"

Fury deflected the question. "Let's say, for instance, I did. Do you have experience pulling them together, working as a team, or do you work as one of the team under someone else?"

"Both, but I've been team leader for a while now, hunting down the worst sort."

"Hm. This valkyrie thing; it's not your only gig is it. That came after Brunnhilda picked you up."

Hats off to the Director. He definitely wasn't stupid. "No. It isn't my only gig."

He stopped and narrowed his good eye at me. "What is it you do?"

Revealing my true powers was something I wanted to keep under wraps for a while, at least until I got my footing on this new Earth. However, Fury was skirting around something that I could really have an interest in pursuing. Being part of a team of parahumans, on a planet that was just emerging into its own onto the scene? It was like the beginnings of the Protectorate. They could do so many things wrong in the process, at least wrong by my terms. I could actually make a difference to those that would be coming into their powers for the first time.

Granted, they wouldn't be triggering like I did, since there wasn't a Scion in the mix, but the thought was the same. Lead them instead of using them.

"Don't freak out," I warned him.

His voice took on a defensive tone. "Freak out about what."

It was the low buzzing that alerted him that things weren't as they should be. The second was when the air conditioning vent started spewing forth my swarm. Hundreds of bugs: wasps, common houseflies, roaches, ants, scorpions, centipedes, and so forth landed on the ground on the far side of the room and built up from the floor into a single swarm clone.

Fury's single eye widened, but I couldn't tell if it was from fear or simply amazement. Either way, he stood his ground rather valiantly.

The clone took two steps toward him and stopped, buzzing out, "Hello, Director Fury."

He licked his lips a single time and then backed away enough to keep both of us in his line of sight. "Is that… you, or are you making them do that?"

"They're an extension of me. I see what they see. I hear what they hear. They do what I want them to do."

Then the penny dropped for him. "You've been watching us this entire time."

I nodded. "The entire facility. That's why I never tried to break in here, or confront you until I was ready."

That part was a tiny white lie, but not technically.

"How many?" he asked.

"Bugs? How many can I control?" When I received a nod of conformation I smiled as evilly as I could manage. "All of them."

"Can you," he made a gesture and I dispersed the clone, allowing it to shoot back up through the vents. When they disappeared, Fury pulled a chair out and sat down. "Let's talk about the Avengers Initiative."

2.4

May 3, 2011

Our conversation was revealing if nothing else. The Avengers Initiative, while still in its infancy, was on shaky ground with those even higher on the food chain than himself. Some people like to rely on good old fashion ordinary mortal knowhow. Fury wasn't one of them. The read I got off of him was that he was the type of guy that would use anyone or anything to help him meet his goal, and then he'd deal with the fallout afterward.

I could relate. I think that's one of the things he noticed about me right off the bat.

My mission, if I chose to accept it was to see if I could build one of these teams out of the dregs that he was given over time. It wasn't going to be full of high powered, well known people like Iron Man, and definitely not the volatile Hulk – they were for when the entire septic system hit the fan and not just the average every day shit. Even then, they weren't a guaranteed thing. It would take something incredibly dangerous on the horizon to bring them on board.

He had something much easier to manage, something that I could figuratively cut my teeth on, in his eyes… eye… whatever. If I could prove that I could get something like this done, then he'd move me up the ladder to play with the big boys.

It was more than I could reasonably hope for, if I was honest with myself. I really didn't expect to walk in the door and be trusted with all the toys and the free reign to do with them whatever I wanted. People like Fury needed to see results for themselves.

He opened the door to the interrogation room and stepped out with me right behind him, shopping bag in hand.

"Carter," he yelled down the hall.

A woman walked quickly toward us, mid-twenties, blonde, shorter than me – maybe five-seven or eight – in a gray pants suit. She looked a little young to be among all the older agents I'd been exposed to.

"Sir!"

"Agent Carter, this is Taylor Hebert codename Valkyrie. I'm bringing her onboard," he said before looking back at me. "Carter will be working alongside you providing logistical and material support. She's the SHIELD side of this project."

Carter didn't look like she had a clue as to what was going on, but she hid it well. She just stood there with her hands clasped behind her back, with her suit coat buttoned, all riged and determined, except for the clueless thing.

"Carter," Fury said when he turned back. "You'll requisition a quinjet and get over to Hill's field office. She'll head the project until it bears fruit. Set Valkyrie up with all the standard materials, and…." He stopped and looked back at me with a gimlet eye. "Do you even own any normal clothes?"

I glanced down at my shorts and cami. "Not really. My armor is standard fare on Asgard."

That got Carter's attention. She took me in with a different sort of attention, most likely measuring my looks compared to Brunnhilda and Thor. I didn't exactly toe the statuesque picture they did.

"Fine. Get her set up and looking like a project manager, at least. Hill will fill you in on the particulars when you get there."

"Yes, sir," she replied respectfully.

"Oh, and Carter, I'm bumping you up to level seven. You'll need clearance to access most of the information on this." He nodded to her and then back at me. "I'll be keeping an eye on you, Valkyrie."

While Carter went off to arrange a ride to wherever this field office was, I took the time to find out if this was what Brunnhilda had in mind for me when she offered me up on a silver platter to the locals. That sounds worse than I actually think it was, but the thought was valid.

"How go the talks?"

"As well as expected," she replied. "We will be required to notify SHIELD whenever we arrive on Midgard as to the purpose of our visit. In turn we will be assigned an escort until such time as we are trained in local customs."

I smirked. "You realize that isn't the reason you'll be escorted, right? They just want to keep an eye on you and have first dibs on whatever it is you're after."

"Agreed. Most of these items will be useless to a mortal and some of them would be lethal. They were designed with an Asgardian physiology in mind."

"Ah." That made sense I suppose.

"We have no objection to their presence."

I nodded. "And they have no objection to Asgard offering up protection for any future problems Earth may have from the other realms, I'm guessing?"

"Which we are bound to do, as Midgard is within the Nine Realms and the Allfather's rule."

"And it took two days to figure all of this out?"

"No." She looked down on me. "It took a single day to explain why we exterminated the Dark Elves and a few other issues in our past."

"Oh." My bad.

"Nicholas Fury accepted our reasoning. The rest is details."

That was my cue. "Well, I accepted Fury's offer. I'm off to… somewhere."

Brunnhilda smiled slightly. "I will ask Heimdall to keep aware of your whereabouts."

"Not too close," I warned. "Remember what I said about him being able to see everything."

"Agreed; not too close. Farewell, Taylor. If you have need of my counsel, simply call on Heimdall and he will bring you home."

~O~

The quinjet reminded me of a junior version of one of Dragon's ships. It wasn't quite as roomy and there wasn't tinkertech lying around every five feet, but I could see the appeal of using one of these things to get around as opposed to the commercial scene. I just wished the company was a little more talkative.

"Are we there yet?" I asked as I leaned over what I guessed was the co-pilot's seat.

Agent Carter shot me a look and then realized I was joking. "Sorry, I know we're supposed to work together, but right now I don't know what you're cleared to know."

I nodded. "And you can't reveal where the super-secret base is along with what your average day is like at SHIELD until you do. Yeah, I get it."

When she gave me the go-ahead to at least sit on the seat behind the one that could see out the front window I let her pick the topic of conversation.

"You're Asgardian."

"Uh, no."

She looked back at me. "But…."

"I just met them three or four weeks ago, and I got recruited to the Valkyrior, but I didn't grow up there or anything like that."

Carter seemed almost disappointed at that news. She probably thought this was supposed to be some great adventure with aliens that looked totally human, and strangely enough spoke English.

"I'm from an alternate dimension – another Earth."

That cheered her up. "Oh… how does that work?"

"I don't have a clue. Brunnhilda – the other valkyrie – she picked me up and brought me on board."

She nodded. "And now you're working with SHIELD."

"Right."

Awesome; man this conversation sucks. Instead of trying to make more, I just leaned back and picked a blank portion on the hull of the ship to stare at.

There were similarities between this Earth and my own, enough to call forth a little melancholy. There would be people and places that I missed from my old life. However, I'd thoroughly burned all of my bridges when Khepri came into being. They wound up killing me in the end. I suppose I understood. I would have done the same thing, or at the very least stuck me in a hole in the ground for the rest of my life. With all things being equal, I think I would have chosen two to the head rather than live my life in a prisoner of my own warped body.

I don't bear them any ill will for their decision for that. What does piss me off was the whole idea I was all but forced to do it for the survival of our race and those of numerous other Earths as well.

With a shake of my head I shoved those thoughts away and tried to concentrate on other things. Dwelling on the fates of my friends and my dad wasn't going to do anything but make me moody and easily annoyed. This was a time to make new friends and get on with my new life.

"Are we there yet?" I said and immediately thereafter started chuckling.

"Actually, yes," Carter supplied with satisfaction. "Strap in for landing."

That didn't take long at all. We couldn't have gone far – a few hundred miles if that. I have to give it to her though; she made a very nice landing. Dragon would have been proud. That's something good to note. It's really difficult to beat an AI that has perfect control over her own ship.

The loading ramp dropped down in the back of the ship and there was already a prim looking woman waiting about ten feet away with her hands clasped behind her back, thin eyes, short cropped brown hair and dressed in a dark blue SHIELD uniform.

Since everyone else was going about their business, she was obviously there for us.

"Agent Carter," she opened with a slight jerk of her head.

"Agent Hill, this is Taylor Hebert codename Valkyrie. Director Fury said you would be in charge of the project."

I've received the look she was giving me so many times before. It's the one that says, "You don't look like much, but people I respect say otherwise. What is it about you that has them so wary?"

I really should have changed on the flight over, but sometimes it's better to be underestimated – at least until it's time not to be.

"Ms. Hebert, Carter." She turned away but kept the pace slow until we caught up. "This is Director Fury's pet project and has been ever since Stark blasted out of the Middle East last August."

She looked over at me. "You're familiar with Tony Stark and Iron Man?"

"Multi-billionaire, tinker, flight capable power armor; that's about it. I've been here less than a week."

"Tinker… cute."

I shook my head. "Not cute. It's a classification system that defines pretty much every conceivable parahuman power out there; with accompanying direct response ratings that will warrant degrees of normal human response and if a parahuman presence is needed."

Hill looked thoughtful for a moment. "I look forward to your first report defining this system."

Dammit.

Here I was thinking I'd learn a little about this world's parahumans then head out into the field, and I've just set myself up for starting from virtual scratch building SHIELDs parahuman response protocols.

Hill definitely noticed my reaction. "This particular location is where we make the red tape, Hebert. Welcome to SHIELD."

Agent Carter quirked a smile before we stepped into the elevator and waited for Hill to choose a level.

"You two have a single office and an assistant to take care of the little things until you warrant more. A quinjet and a mobile response unit, along with the typical bells and whistles, will be at your disposal twenty-four-seven. Anything beyond that will have to be requisitioned through proper channels – me. Show me that you can be productive with what you have and I'll push Fury for a new division."

Carter took that moment to finally speak up. "The Director wasn't exactly clear as to what we'd be doing."

Hill thumbed at me. "That's her call."

The elevator doors opened in front of a desk with two badges already waiting for us, one with my picture displayed. Hill picked that one up and handed it to me while Carter was clipping hers to her suit jacket.

"Everywhere you go in this this facility, you wear this. Nobody but Agent Carter and me knows why you are here. Let's keep it that way." She directed the last part to Carter. "Level seven or above only."

"What's one through six?" I asked.

"People that are fresh out of SHIELD Academy on up." Once I clipped the badge to my cami we continued on. "You're being given a provisional level seven compartmentalized clearance. In other words you'll be allowed access to materials that pertain to your purview only. Don't try to muscle in on other level seven projects; you'll be denied. Agents work for years and bleed copious amounts of blood to earn the privilege of wearing that."

"I've bled, Agent Hill; trust me. I won't abuse it."

Her hands went to her hips and she stared me down, probably not knowing whether to believe me or not. "How old are you?"

Oh, this again. Like age was some ultimate qualifier of experience. "Eighteen."

"And you've bled? What are we talking about?"

I looked to the side and saw that we were relatively private. "I think the worst was a little over a month ago when I was in a battle with a hundred other parahumans and I was ripped in half at the waist. Hips and legs went one direction and my torso went in the other. That hurt. But I've been in the middle of war zones, faced a number of eldritch abominations up close and personal that would make you turn and run screaming for your sanity and a nice quiet office. So, yeah, I've bled. I started all this at the tender age of fifteen. So, don't talk down to me about paying my dues, Agent Hill. Just state what I can and can't do and then leave me the fuck alone until I produce."

She stared me down, and believe me when I say she had absolutely nothing on Alexandria, but she gave it her best shot. Then she glanced at Carter who was currently looking at me like I'd grown gills or something.

"I think we'll get along just fine. Carter, tell your assistant to get her something to wear. We have an image to maintain."

~O~

The office wasn't exactly something to write home about. Lisa would have had a field day with the computer set up and the potential goldmine of information that was likely on the SHIELD servers. I could almost imagine the thinker headaches it would have produced for her.

Once I was outfitted with a SHIELD standard uniform and my measurements were sent out somewhere for some pant suits I settled in behind my new desk and pulled up a standard report template Carter set up for me. Meanwhile, she got to work studying the materials concerning our project so she could get up to speed.

It wasn't glamorous in the slightest, but it was hopefully a new beginning for parahumans on this planet.

It only took an hour of work before Carter pulled up enough courage, or whatever, to ask me what had been bugging her since I locked horns with Hill.

She spun her chair around. "Did you really get torn in half?"

I looked away from my attempt to classify a breaker. "Uh… yeah. I was on an oil platform out in the middle of the ocean at the time."

That obviously didn't fulfill her curiosity. "How… I mean… how?"

"How'd I survive?"

"Yeah."

"Luck, preparation, inspiration born out of insanity, and in the end a bio-kinetic."

Before she could ask the next obvious question I went ahead and answered. "The bio-kinetic could touch someone and do anything she wanted to their body: cure cancer, fix broken bones, engineer a plague – all of it in seconds. She grew me a new lower half."

Carter sat there staring at me. "There's powers out there like that?"

"Here?" I shrugged. "I don't have a clue. Back home it's just another power. Granted, it had the potential to be used incredibly badly, but she was mostly sane there at the end. She did the right thing when we needed her to – put a lot of people back together that otherwise would have died. That's all I really cared about."

She wanted to say something else, but I didn't know what, so I offered a distraction. "Can I get access to everything we have on Iron Man and the Hulk, power wise, so I can use them as examples for this classification system I want to set up?"

Carter paused to for a moment and then nodded. "Sure."

"And anyone else that's displayed powers. Fury said we had something called The Index? The wider selection of powers I can use as examples, the better."

"Right." She tapped on her keyboard and clicked her mouse a few times. "There you go. Just to warn you, anytime these kinds of files are accessed, it gets flagged; Agent Hill gets notified."

I nodded. "Well, she's welcome to look over my shoulder if she wants, just as long as she doesn't get in my way."

"She's the Deputy Director, one step below Director himself. The bad-ass attitude will only go so far with her."

I grinned. "I know her type Agent Carter. Get results and she's happy. You can be as much of a jerk as you want, just as long as you get the job done and make her look good. I don't have anything personal against her as of yet. I don't even know her. This is just me being me."

"A bad-ass?"

A tilt of my head to acknowledge her assessment later and I had to shrug. "Being a parahuman on Earth Bet meant beating your enemy. No that's not right; it means annihilating your enemy so thoroughly that even those with powers in the upper tiers should question whether or not they want to fight you. At least that's what it was like at the beginning."

"When you were fifteen," she confirmed.

"I was fifteen when I stuck nanothorn halberd into Leviathan's ass - think giant monster that can manipulate water any way he wishes -went up against a group of parahuman serial killers commonly called the Slaughterhouse Nine – the name alone should give you a general idea of what they do when they come to your city. Then I celebrated my sweet sixteenth birthday by executing a guy, with a bullet to the head, he liked to drug up a twelve year old girl in order to use her power as a pre-cognitive so he could rule over my hometown."

The seed was planted I just had to water it a little.

"I'm not telling you all of this to inflate my ego, Agent Carter. All of that was done in less than a month of my life. The truth is I am a bad-ass. I have the wallet, bought the shirt, and the bag of chips that came with it. It's why I take this job seriously, and will come down like a biblical insect plague if people get in my way and as a result turn this world into something like the one I came from. I won't have it."

The elephant in the room just sat down and rolled around for a good minute before she responded. "Does Director Fury know about all of this?"

I licked my lips and then grinned. "That's specifically why he offered me the job."