Author's Note: So, this chapter is a certified honker at 12k words. Fair warning. Breaking up this story has been different from FitS. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy the longer read. Chapters will probably continue to vary in length.
I haven't finished the overall story, yet, but I'm close. Things will continue to pick up, and there's a bit more Jackson in store, too. But the story does focus on Ellie's journey.
Enjoy!
Ellie walks forward through the light-lattice grid that is the HARM room before it develops into a realistic setting. She flexes her hands one at a time, the fingerless leather gloves creaking, snug and flexible. She shakes out her arms and shoulders.
Over time, Jarvis had helped her develop the body suit adapted from Nat's to something more suitable for Ellie. She wears black, metal-threaded leather jacket, with more elastic fabric about the joints, for freedom of movement. Not nearly as form-fitting as Nat's suit, per Ellie's request, but still snug. Plenty of pockets, and a belt for knives, guns, and other things. They'd taken turns doing shooting practice, using other tools and gadgets Nat had showed her, and knife fighting, but the lion's share, Nat insisted, be hand to hand.
Nat is standing in her combat stance. Somehow, the woman is as still as glass, without being rigid. Her every movement is controlled, in or out of combat, but she limbers up quickly and readily, moving with a smooth grace. She probably has one of the best-tuned non-super bodies on the planet. She used to do ballet, she'd confided in Ellie. All about control.
The environment around them settles, and they're on a city rooftop at night, dotted by AC ducting and stairwell blocks. The stars are out, great white clouds drifting between them, glowing from the light of the city and moon. It's all that lights the textured roofing beneath their feet.
Nat doesn't make any moves. Her sky-blue eyes are just shy of ice, the only part of her body that moves as they follow Ellie's approach. Nat reveals nothing. Whenever Ellie tries to ply her to rate her performance, she says nothing, or just smirks. When Ellie taunts that she thinks she got close to taking her down that last round—something that has yet to happen, in the weeks of this morning ritual—Nat just smiles, brushes herself off, and resumes her stance.
Ellie's gotten a little better at reading her, though. She's preoccupied with something. Nat speaks first.
"You seem extra determined, this morning," Nat observes.
"Yeah," says Ellie, rolling her neck. She has no intention of recapping last night for her. "Just got something I need to 'get out.'" Nat's phrase.
Nat nods subtly.
Just like she doesn't recap for Ellie, she doesn't set rules, either. It can start in any way, from Nat gesturing for her to come at her, to a group of robots appearing all around them and turning the duel into chaos. Other times—
Nat charges.
Ellie goes back a half step but has learned better than to retreat. Nat leads with a standing kick that Ellie stiff arms. Nat follows up with some fierce straights that Ellie is able to deflect, stepping forward. They exchange straights and light kicks, probing each other's vigilance, but neither fails to block or deflect a blow during the extended exchange.
Nat dips away from a hook and turns gracefully into a roundhouse that Ellie just manages to duck, feeling Nat's heel move through her hair.
As always, Ellie goes for a kick to Nat's side, but Nat's recovery from the roundhouse is practically seamless, and she blocks that, too.
Strength-wise, Nat's lower body beats out Ellie. Above the hips, though, Ellie has the advantage.
Ellie allows her eyes to drift away from Nat's body. She feints another kick at Nat's knee, which she goes to block, but Ellie's kick turns into a step in, so their bodies are inches apart.
Ellie's eyes are off in the distance, but she 'sees' Nat's widen slightly. Ellie finishes the movement by placing a heavy low punch into Nat's gut with all her weight, eliciting a little air from the older woman, and giving her just enough time to throw her other elbow into her jaw.
Nat jerks back, turning it into a glancing blow, but they're in-fighting now.
Ellie plants another low hook into Nat's side, and Nat goes to hook her wrist with her elbow, but Ellie punches her in the cheek at the same time. Nat continues backing up as they exchange close, back-powered blows, but Ellie presses on mercilessly. This is good, but any second—
Nat manages to get a foot between Ellie's and uses her knee to throw Ellie's off balance. She slugs Ellie in the jaw in a way that sends her tumbling—which she does, rolling gracefully to her feet like Nat taught her.
Nat is advancing, and Ellie heads it off with a reverse cartwheel kick.
Her eyes are still in their slackened, neutral gaze, but she 'sees' Nat's eyes widen again. The arch of her foot narrowly misses the woman's cheek. Ellie resumes her feet and her stance. Nat's combat scowl is growing, a sure sign that she's getting more serious. She sniffs and rubs her nose.
Nat starts circling, arms lowered. Her shoulders are cowled, and it's menacing. Ellie circles as well, frowning. It's an unusual strategy from Nat, she doesn't really beat around the bush.
Ellie senses the air duct behind her and her eyes widen.
Nat charges and threatens to pin Ellie against it, so Ellie rolls over it. As soon as she finds her feet, Nat is vaulting the vent and drop kicks Ellie with both feet to the chest. Ellie's back hits the roof hard. She manages to roll to a crouch, and Nat is already driving at her head with a front kick. Ellie turns and receives the kick into her braced shoulder muscle. Nat's hardened sole hurts, but Ellie is able to grab her ankle. Nat immediately lifts off with her other foot to kick Ellie's face, but Ellie ducks under it.
Nat ends up on three limbs, face down, and when she tries to recover Ellie yanks her leg to throw her off balance, then throws a full-body kick directly into her gut, eliciting a full-throated grunt from Nat, to Ellie's rare satisfaction.
She greedily goes for another one, but Nat wrenches her trapped foot free, quickly planting it into Ellie's gut.
Ellie stumbles backward into another air vent. Nat's recovery gives her time to roll over it safely.
Nat advances again, and the obstacle of the vent offers a number of advantages to Ellie, but Nat high-steps on top of it confidently as if daring Ellie to try one.
In the end, Ellie lets her step over it, sensing the edge of the rooftop behind her. She's lost too many matches by getting thrown over it. She grits her teeth and snarls.
"Angry, cornered rat?" Nat taunts her.
Ellie holds her fists aloft, bouncing readily. In-fighting is ideal, but it's almost impossible to avoid Nat's judo bullshit. Nat has the advantage as long as her back's to the roof's edge, so she tries circling to the right.
Nat doesn't seem to like that and advances immediately, throwing a kick to stop her progress. Ellie blocks it and a couple more punches before throwing more of her own. Ellie keeps trying to get in close, but Nat will take a step back or push Ellie, gaining distance and throwing more kicks, which grow more and more tiring to block.
Ellie steps in again but Nat steps in to meet her. Ellie's hook goes wide and Nat's left leg gets between Ellie's, lifting her right leg off the rooftop. Nat shoves her and Ellie goes down on her back, Nat immediately on top of her.
Nat straightens her right arm, palm pressing the side of Ellie's growling face into the ground. Ellie swings with her left, but Nat catches her wrist and with height advantage, pins that arm down, too. She's sitting on Ellie's left leg, and Ellie's left arm can't reach any of Nat's vital areas around her shoulder and pinning arm. Ellie's right leg is free, and she starts planting half-strength knees into Nat's side.
They're relatively weak, but Ellie keeps it up, prompting Nat to shift her weight, which is Ellie's opportunity.
Using all the strength in her right leg and core, Ellie lifts Nat upward and turns them. Her head remains pinned by Nat's arm, grinding painfully into the textured roof. Nat goes to hook Ellie's other leg but Ellie obstructs her, pushing away her hip with her left arm, allowing her to pull her left knee to her torso. Her right leg joins it.
Nat's eyes widen when she realizes what's about to happen. Ellie's left arm grabs her firmly around the back of the neck, and she pushes against Nat's torso with all the strength in her legs.
Nat's body is forced off and over Ellie's head, into the air, and over the side of the roof. She orients herself just in time to grab vainly at the roof's edge, then vanishes into the void below.
Not feeling like the fight is over, Ellie climbs to her feet, panting. She even puts her fists up. When she realizes Nat's really gone though, her features slacken.
An icy feeling enters her stomach, a bad feeling. "Nat?" she says, still panting. She swallows. "Nat?"
"Right here, kid."
Ellie wheels, and Nat is standing behind her, adjusting her gloves, as if nothing had happened.
Ellie takes a few more breaths. For a second she'd had a sickening feeling, like she'd really hurt Nat. She'd felt bad.
No sorries in the HARM room, Nat's voice comes back to her.
Now she realizes that after she fell, Nat simply let JARVIS reset her position back on the rooftop. Which means…
"Holy shit," says Ellie. She takes a few more breaths. "Holy shit," she repeats, smiling. "I won."
Nat cocks her eyebrow at her, a ghost of a smile on her face.
Ellie breaks out in a laugh. "I freaking won, dude!" She throws a few play jabs at Nat, whose smile broadens as she bats them away.
"Yeah, yeah, easy now. Don't let it go to your head."
"Does this make me an Avenger, now?"
Nat laughs. "Not quite."
"So what's next, then?"
Nat cocks her head.
The HARM environment shifts, and she and Nat are back to their starting positions on the rooftop. Nat drops into her combat stance.
"Seriously?" says Ellie. "Does it ever end?"
"Not till the hour's up," says Nat. She moves in on Ellie.
Teeth bared, Ellie moves to meet her.
Ellie scoops a bit of the runny eggs onto her toast with jam, and balances it untils he can take the bite. Sweet, savory and crunch mix in her mouth.
"Mm…" she says, chewing with a big smile.
"I like that appetite," says Nat across from her, wearing a little smile. "You were strong when I found you. If anything, you've put on a bit of muscle."
Ellie shrugs. "Workouts every day and good food in my face all the time. What'd you expect?"
Nat rarely joins her for breakfast after their routine. She's very busy, of course. But she had time today, and that always brightens Ellie's spirit. She surveys Nat's plate. She's got toast and eggs, like her, along with a bowl of fruit and some kind of sausage.
"Sausage today, huh? That go with your strict diet?"
"It does, in fact. Chicken apple, one of my favorites." Nat takes a bite as if to show her.
"Yeah, that doesn't sound too bad… but why don't you just eat burgers and pizza and stuff like me?"
"I mean, I do," says Nat, leaning in for emphasis, "on occasion. I don't have a fusion reactor for a stomach like some 21 year olds I know. Give it ten or fifteen years, then you might just find those burgers and pizza to be a lot heavier than before."
Ellie thinks about it, then scrunches up her face. "Nah."
Nat chuckles, chewing another bite.
Nat is sharp, strong, determined, but still possessed of good humor. Ellie likes her a lot. She's glad to have the morning with her.
Nat gives her a warm little secret smile, like she knows what she's thinking. "You've got character, Ellie. They must miss you, back in Jackson."
The words pass through her ears and settle like a stone in her stomach. It doesn't ruin the mood, but it does bring her down a bit. She wears her I'm-fine half smirk, playing with some eggs on her plate. That hurt her, but Nat wouldn't do that for no reason. "Yeah…" she says, "they do, for some reason."
"For some reason?" Nat asks.
"Are you probing me, now?" Ellie asks, her brow muscles tense. "Cause I thought we were having breakfast."
"Well," says Nat, "since it's not nice to hide your intentions with friends, I was going to ask you about Jackson."
"Why?" asks Ellie, still annoyed.
"Because it's got to mean a lot to you," says Nat, "but I haven't heard you talk about it in a long while."
Ellie snorts softly. "Yeah." She starts cutting her toast into pieces with her fork. "Of course it does. But that doesn't mean I need to talk about it."
"Now that's where we disagree, Ellie," says Nat. "Believe me, I know about bottled feelings. I did it for a long time. I still do, when I'm not practicing right…" Nat shakes away the thought. "The point is, I know that smile I see you carrying around the Chimera. To be honest with you, it's disturbingly familiar."
Ellie's brow twitches. Is Nat admitting she does the same thing?
"Look." Nat leans on the table. "I'm not here trying to twist your arm into trusting me. That's messed up and it doesn't work. I see you and Kamala. You two have gotten closer. You can talk to her."
This conversation is making her think of Sarah, and Mount Hood, outside Seattle. She doesn't like the feeling at all.
"Nat," she says, covering her face with her hand, "why does this matter so much? Do we have to talk about this? Can't I just have the day?"
"We don't have to talk about this, but I want to. And it matters because when we don't talk about things that matter-"
"It makes us soft?" Ellie asks drily.
"No, it makes us brittle," replies Nat.
That doesn't feel good, and Ellie's eyes find the table.
Nat leans back a bit. "But that's probably enough. You're right. You did take me down earlier, that was good. You didn't hesitate and you showed me some great moves."
Now Ellie's blushing. Whiplash, much? God, why does Nat have to be so… on. Can't they just chill? She's like a machine. In a good way, though. "Thanks," is all she says, but she means it.
Ellie's still looking down, but with her second sight, she watches Nat looking over her sympathetically, even affectionately. Then her brow scrunches.
"Are you looking at me?" Nat asks.
Ellie's eyes dart about. "No…"
"Yes, you are. Would you look at me when-would you…" Nat stumbles, and shakes her head. "Would you look at me when you're looking at me?"
Ellie looks up and meets Nat's crystal blue eyes. Ellie's cheek rests in her palm, the faintest of amusement on her face.
For a moment, Nat just smiles back. Then she glances to the side. She scrunches her cheek.
"Oh, what now?" Ellie asks.
"No, no, it's alright," replies Nat, "we can be done for now." She cuts into her chicken apple sausage.
"Just say it, so I can finish my breakfast." Not that she wants it to be over so Nat can go, tough talk or no.
Nat considers her and sets down her utensils. "What you said before."
Ellie frowns.
"Your people, in Jackson. They miss you, 'for some reason?'"
That does drain the rest of Ellie's humor. She thinks twice about having asked.
"It's fine, Ellie. I think I understand. We can just-"
"When I first met you, you said you'd be surprised if I'd done half the things you have." Ellie doesn't think. It just comes out.
Nat frowns. She nods, soberly.
"Well, I don't know your past. You're older than me. It could be true." A cold, burning feeling comes up in Ellie's belly. It's not new; it's always there. But she almost never addresses it. "But I've done some pretty bad things."
This time, it's Nora. In the red light in that hellhole underneath the hospital. There are screams of dying people behind her, and the infected feasting on them. Nora's trapped. She's terrified. She knows she's powerless, that this is the end. Her lip quivers. She was never a fighter. It had been obvious to Ellie at the time. It hadn't stopped her when her hand wrapped around the machete.
It's settled over Ellie now, and she's melting into her seat. She's staring at the table, but she can see naked worry creep into Nat's features. She's here, now. She's not about to stop halfway.
"Some really, really bad things. To people who didn't really deserve it, even though I thought they did at the time."
"Me, too," Nat whispers.
Ellie sniffs. Her chest is cold and her shoulders and arms burn as if from a caustic substance. "One of them survived to forgive me, and I'll be thankful for that for the rest of my life. But the rest…"
Nat is very still. Head slightly cocked, listening.
Ellie wipes the snot from her nose. "Most people in Jackson don't know what I'm capable of. But I was welcome there anyway. Kinda like Joel. And I loved them for that. Sometimes I just needed to remind myself I was welcome."
"Keep doing that," says Nat, surprising Ellie. She's no longer taken aback. She looks resolved. "Because you are."
It feels good but it also makes Ellie want to cry, and she turns away. "I've had some people tell me to let it go." Her voice is shaky. "But I just don't know how… Looking back, there was no reason any of it had to happen." She grinds her palm into her eye. "It just seems like such a fucking waste."
"I can't tell you how to let it go," says Nat, "because I haven't figured it out, either. But I can tell you this. No matter how far down you've gone, no matter how deep, how pitch black, none of it was for no reason. None of it was worthless, or a waste."
Ellie frowns in earnest, meeting Nat's eyes. "How? How can you say that?"
"Because," Nat continues, "by going there, to that place, you know, in a way that most don't. And that enables you to help people. Which is the one, surefire solution I've found for myself. It's why I do what I do, every day. And that counts, Ellie." Nat raises her voice and Ellie lifts her head off her palm in surprise. "It counts, and even then, if nothing else, if nothing else, Ellie-" Nat leans in. "A day may come when all you need to do is to tell someone else that you've been there, too. And that there is still a better way. And hope."
Ellie's breathing has deepened. If this goes on any longer, she's going to cry, and she doesn't want to do that.
Then Nat gets up, walking around the table at a businesslike pace. Surprised, Ellie turns to her. Should she stand up?
Nat lays a firm hand on her shoulder and leans in. "And when that day does come, you'll be able to tell them, and it will only be because you've been there. And that's why there's no such thing as a waste."
Ellie takes a shuddering breath. Nat really means it, she can tell.
The older woman lets her go, turns, and walks out of the cafeteria.
A few people are glancing her way, but Ellie ignores them, resting on the table. After that, she barely cares about her surroundings. She plays with the food on her plate for a while. Nat just left hers there.
She sits that way for a few minutes, then stabs the rest of Nat's sausage and adds it to her plate.
Ellie makes her way up to the upper bridge, where Alisande can be found this time of morning, to begin her shift.
After she'd finished her food, she'd found herself feeling surprisingly good. She keeps thinking about Nat, but she may not be able to see her again until tomorrow.
Sande—she lets her call her that when it's just the two of them—had relented in letting her stick to jeans, but she's wearing the SHIELD jacket they'd issued to her as a semblance of a uniform. Ellie had only ever used tablets and computers at the FEDRA academy in Boston until she arrived at the Chimera. Alisande had quickly got her up to speed on their basic functionality.
SHIELD tech is far more advanced than anything she'd used before, which, paradoxically, made it remarkably easy to learn and use. In a couple weeks' time, Alisande was asking her questions and proceeding to instruct her to navigate the programs and subroutines only to find Ellie already doing it.
Alisande has had her help her navigate in the incoming flood of information they're getting from AIM. It turns out despite AIM's size and advanced tech, they're a little sloppy in their on-the-ground operations. With the Avengers help and knowledge of so much of the technology AIM uses—sourced from Tony's acquisitioned intellectual property, as well as some others—SHIELD has backdoors in their system and enough low-level moles to provide a constant influx of huge amounts of data. It just needs to be analyzed. Alisande's job is to track their movements and predict where they plan to move next, and how best to counter it. Ellie is mostly there for support, doing legwork Alisande would be doing herself on the terminals so she can spend more time doing the high-level analysis.
Sande is the best. Ellie feels lucky that she landed with her. She's spent plenty of time in the field, not unlike Ellie, so she understands life and death stakes. And she takes her job now just as seriously. It's why she's always got bags under her eyes, but she stays sharp. All that being said, she's also got kind eyes, a good sense of humor, and a relentless, convicted positive outlook.
As Ellie approaches the double doors to the upper bridge, the automated voice sounds.
"SHIELD Clearance 3 detected."
The doors part. Alisande is staring up at the main portside display, expectedly, with one hand on her hip.
"Morning, Sande," says Ellie.
"Morning, El," says Alisande without looking.
"I brought you breakfast."
"I actually ate breakfast today, for your information. What did you bring?"
"Bagel. With strawberry cream cheese."
"You said strawberry—" That gets Alisande's attention. She turns and takes the reusable plastic container from Ellie's hands. "That'll get eaten." She puts it on the end of one of the consoles. Her first cup of coffee is still steaming next to it. Or second, you never know when Alisande started her day.
"Where are we at today?" Ellie asks. "Are we still looking at air traffic in the Pacific Northwest, or did you jump past me again?"
"No…" says Alisande, distracted again by the display. She slides over to a different group of metrics. "Still a concern, but you've got other business."
"Ah, but—"
"Down below."
"Huh?" Since she started working for Alisande, she's spent almost no time on the lower bridge, which is operations oriented. A whim pops up. "Ooh, am I gonna get to fly the Chimera today?!"
Alisande chuckles. "Not yet. But I suspect you'll be interested."
Piqued, Ellie looks through the glass to the lower bridge and is taken aback when she sees all the Avengers she's met assembled around the War Table.
Alisande turns with a smile before she's recovered. "Steve requested you."
Ellie looks up. "Like right away…?"
"Well, when Steve asks…"
Ellie is at once tense, excited, nervous, and disappointed. She'd hoped to work with Alisande, but she knows she can't miss this. "Loop me in later?"
"Whether you like it or not."
Ellie takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. She walks through the starboard doors and starts climbing down the stairs.
Kamala is the first to notice her. She's got a super serious expression on her face as she listens to Steve talk, but when she sees Ellie, she breaks into a smile.
"If this were CIA, or even Hammer Industries sanctioned-research, it would be one thing," says Steve to the others, "but with Monica at the helm of this operation, we have to assume she could have the worst ends in mind. We need to shut this thing down. She can't be allowed to monopolize interdimensional travel, or even exploit it at all, if such a thing could prove dangerous to wider society."
He's talking about Monica Rappaccini. She's the head of AIM, and apparently a brilliant megalomaniac. She's the one responsible for the experiment that dragged Ellie to this world, and a lot of other bad stuff besides. Ellie doesn't know their exact history, but the Avengers talk about her very seriously.
Steve notices her as she climbs the last steps down to the war table area. Tony, Bruce, Nat, Thor, and Kamala are there, along with two others in purple outfits that Ellie doesn't recognize.
"Ellie," says Steve, "thank you for joining us."
"I hope I'm not late." She pulls up next to Nat. Bruce looks down, some kind of secret smile on his face that's more obvious than he seems to think it is.
"You're fine. We're going over our progress on AIM's newest drive, and it only seemed fitting you be a part of that."
Ellie glances up. The holographic display above the War Table shows an oblong crystal, and floating text reads '2-Tachyon.' She sucks in a little breath. That's the stuff they used to bring her here.
With Ellie in place, Steve resumes addressing all of them. "So far, we've narrowed down three active probing facilities, including the one we raided, though it's likely more may pop up. That being said, there does seem to be a bottleneck. These experimental sessions have significant downtimes. Multiple days, it seems like."
"Based on what Tony, Hank and I have put together," says Bruce, "it does seem like there is some level of degradation of 2-Tachyon during the reaction. So either it degrades quickly—"
"Or it's real hard to synthesize in the first place," finishes Tony. Bruce points to him as if he's correct.
"Either way," says Steve, "it makes the acquisition of AIM-synthesized 2-Tachyon a top-level asset, both for furthering our own understanding, and for slowing AIM down."
"How much did you guys get in that last raid?" the purple-wearing girl asks. She's even got a classic comics-style purple mask over her eyes, as well as a high-quality compound bow slung over her shoulder.
"Just a sliver," says Bruce. "We still have it. It's lost 28 percent of its mass already, suggesting a half-life of… ten weeks?"
"You guys haven't tried juicing it yet?" she asks, a little cavalierly.
There's a tense pause.
"Safety first," says Tony ruefully.
"That's right," says Steve. "We need to understand this thing, or we could cause unexpected damage, just like AIM."
"So what's next?" asks Nat.
"As I'm sure you're aware, Nat," says Steve, "after our raid weeks ago, AIM has armed these facilities to the teeth. Not the kind of fight we can afford right now. Nonetheless—"
"AIM supply lines have always been a weak spot," says the purple-wearing man. He's barefaced, with a buzz cut. He seems to second guess himself. "Sorry, Cap."
"No, that's right, Clint," says Steve. The name catches Ellie's attention. "And with new data from Alisande—and Ellie," Steve nods. Ellie's cheeks grow warm. "We have critical new data."
Steve looks up at the holographic display, which changes to a table of code words that Ellie actually recognizes from her work.
Jarvis's formal, accented voice sounds from the War Table. It doesn't sound like the automatic voice from the doors, it's almost as natural as if a person were standing there. "We know from experience that AIM labels much of its more classified cargo with code names, which rotate at each new delivery location. Over time, Agent Morales has managed to group them into lists. Some pointing to known resources, like vibranium, cosmic capacitors, and, most notably so far, the original Tachyon.
"AIM's cleverness, though, as in the past, may prove its weakness. A newer asset has been assigned no less than fourteen different code names during its transit routes. Suggesting a high level of secrecy. We believe this may be 2-Tachyon."
Ellie stares. Alisande—'Agent Morales'—had had her put that list together. To her, it had been just another task.
"That's right," says Steve.
"That's strong intel," Nat points out, "but how many AIM facilities can we regularly retrieve manifests from?"
"Only about twenty three percent—of known facilities," Steve concedes, "but that's enough to trace rough routes, with Jarvis's help. We've identified a number of transit depots with low-level security that we can hit safely. Today, we will be issuing multiple teams to strike these targets. We want to snatch up everything we can before AIM catches wind and shifts their strategy."
"Every minute AIM spends restrategizing is a minute lost to their progress," says Clint.
The girl smacks his shoulder, a smirk on her lips. "I was just gonna say that."
"Making this the critical mission at this time. You guys in?"
"Every day of the week," says Nat, pushing herself up off the console column.
"Let's take it to 'em!" says Kamala, balling her enlarged fists.
"You said it," says Steve. "We launch in two hours. Prep your gear."
Bruce and Tony immediately break to the side and start talking in low tones as if continuing a previous conversation. Thor gets Steve's attention and they start a conversation of their own while Clint and the other girl leave the bridge together.
Nat catches Ellie's eye and beckons her with her head. Kamala looks at them expectantly.
"Why don't you make sure you're prepped, Kamala," says Nat. "I'll let you know when we have team assignments."
Kamala nods dutifully and jogs out of the bridge after the purple duo. Nat pulls Ellie to the side near the exit, where they can talk in private.
"Sorry I left abruptly earlier," says Nat.
Ellie just shakes her head. She figures the conversation was a lot for her, too. In hindsight, she's thankful. "Don't worry about it."
"How you feeling?" Nat asks.
Even her lack of elaboration feels like a test on some level. Ellie considers. "Okay."
Nat doesn't react.
"In some ways," Ellie continues, "it still feels crazy to be a part of this."
"You don't have to be. This is our job."
"No," says Ellie. She looks up at the War Table, still displaying the report she'd helped create. "It feels good."
"I believe it," says Nat. "I talked with Steve, and we'll put you on the ground today, if you want it."
Ellie looks at her, incredulous, but Nat doesn't say anything else. She's tempted to ask if she's serious, but Ellie's learned when Nat's employing her dry humor, and she doesn't seem to like hesitancy. Ellie decided weeks ago, in their first session, that Nat is someone she doesn't want to disappoint.
"Okay."
"Mean it."
"What's the op?"
"You heard Steve."
"Details, Nat."
"Thor and I are to strike a railway depot in Eastern Utah. You would be with us. Remote location, no civilians. In ninety minutes, a cargo drop will be made that will be accessible for exactly one hour until it is to be consolidated onto a larger, more secure train heading to one of the testing sites Steve mentioned."
"What's the security like?"
"No match for us. But good question. We expect standard Synthoid security units, maybe some elites."
"Adaptoids?"
Nat shakes her head. "Not at this waystation. But if you see one, your standing orders are to run, do you understand me?"
Ellie nods. Nat's made the danger level of that particular automaton very clear.
She really means it. She'll bring her along. "I'm good for it," says Ellie.
Nat grabs her shoulder, blue eyes piercing into her. "You understand what it means, to be out there?"
A pulse of anger runs through Ellie. She's pretty sure she knows as well as Nat does, and she's pretty sure Nat knows it, too. But still, she's asking. She keeps the heat down in her chest. "I'm good for it. And it's about time I get off this damn ship for a while."
After a moment, the corner of Nat's lip turns upward. She lets go of Ellie's shoulder. "Good. Head to the tech lab, Tony will outfit you."
"Huh?" Outfit her?
"What?" asks Nat over her shoulder as she leaves the bridge. "You were gonna wear jeans?"
Ellie leans against the worktable near Tony's row of suits, where she'd found him that first day on the Chimera. Her arms and legs are crossed, and her brow furrowed as she just thinks about life.
Her time with the Avengers has been a roller coaster. The highs, a constantly renewed sense of wonder at the impossible, fantastical reality into which she'd been thrust, and the incredible people she's met, and even a good friend, in Kamala. And a mentor of sorts, in Nat, though she hadn't even told Kamala that part.
The lows, every time she thinks of someone she was ripped from because of her own mistake, made out of her stupid, stupid curiosity and stubbornness.
I've met quite a few people who confuse 'stupid' and 'innocent.' Steve's words come back to her. And 'stubborn' and 'determined' are two sides of the same coin.
Ellie's frown deepens, conflicting feelings in her chest. Why did he use the word 'innocent?' It's the last word that should be applied to her.
She frowns and shifts her feet uncomfortably. Why do these people seem to think so much of her?
A flash of color on her periphery catches Ellie's attention. It's that girl, who was with the Clint guy.
She notices Ellie, too, and a look of keen curiosity comes over her face. She struts over. "Hey, there. We haven't met yet. Name's Kate. Lotta folks call me Hawkeye, like Clint. But you can call me the Better Marksman. Or markswoman, actually."
She's wearing see-through aviators. Her upper back-length hair is pulled into a ponytail. She's got a snug tank top and jeans on. She's younger than the others. She's got keen eyes. She looks sharp, and peppy. And very pretty.
Ellie leans off of the workbench and shakes her hand. "I'm Ellie."
"I could tell at first glance. Long way from home, huh?"
Ellie's gut tenses, and she draws a long, silent breath. That actually hurts quite a bit, but Kate didn't seem to mean anything by it. Ellie hides the feeling.
"Still," Kate continues, "you seem to have made yourself at home. Working for Morales? Is she a hard ass? I mean, don't get me wrong, she's great, I love her, but I always felt like she would be a hard ass for a boss."
The girl has an undeniable energy. Ellie tries to exhale the feeling in her chest, and screws up her face. "No, she's great. As long as her blood sugar's up, anyway."
Kate laughs. "Oh my gosh, right? She's a straight workaholic! What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for that scatterbrain to show up."
"Oh, what? You mean Tony? Oh, that's perfect. Describes him exactly. Wouldn't wait up too long though. He could be like, reinventing fusion or something."
"He's supposed to meet me."
"He is? Says who?"
"Nat. And no one seems to like making her mad."
Kate laughs. "Totally. I mean," she says conspiratorially, "yours truly included. What business do you have with him?"
"He's gonna gear me up. I'm going out with Nat and Thor today."
It's the first time Kate's taken aback. "Whoa… really? That's… pretty huge, dude. Do you… have training?"
Ellie shrugs. "Well, where I come from, you learn to fight young. Plus, Nat's been drilling the crap out of me in the weeks I've been here. And between you and me?" Ellie leans in, and so does Kate. "Between you and me, Nat is the hard ass."
"Oh," says Kate, laughing, "you didn't have to tell me that. Jeez. So… wow, big time, huh? Nat must see a lot in you."
That causes Ellie's features to slacken. She looks down. Yeah… she must.
"Good for you, kid!" Kate punches her shoulder. "Oh, you know. Girl. People used to call me kid a lot and I hated it."
Ellie shrugs, smiling. "I've been called worse. What are you in here for?"
"Oh, I was just picking up my order. Standard pre-op stuff. The fabs here are the best, I'm telling you." She gestures with a tube-shaped canister she's holding. Judging from the bow on her back, they're arrows?
"Hawkeye, huh? Any good with that thing?"
For a second, Kate is honestly stunned. She scoffs. "You kidding?"
In a flash, she readies the compound bow and pulls it into a full draw, eyes down sights, still as stone. Ellie's impressed. "Nice, dude!"
"Well," says Kate, not as modest as she sounds, "I learned from the best."
"Can I try?"
"It's got a heave to it…"
Ellie just holds out her hand with a relaxed smile, belying her confidence.
Skeptical, Kate hands it over.
Ellie looks it over. She's handled a few compound bows in her day. This one indeed looks like a hard pull. She picks a point across the lab, spotting the head of one of those synthoid units laying on a table. She braces her feet and pulls it into a full draw.
The muscles in her back ripple. She's shorter than Kate, but she has long arms, and it's about the right size for her. She limits out the tension and the bow makes a satisfying creek. Kate actually starts at that. Ellie's done a lot of target shooting, gun and bow, with Nat in the HARM room, but it's been some time since she's done it in real life. It feels good.
"Damn…" says Kate. "You almost make that look easy."
Ellie releases the draw, returning her gaze.
Kate breaks out into a big smile. "Nice, girl! Let me get a look at those lats!" Kate puts a hand on her shoulder, trying to turn her around.
"Hey, what?!"
"Take the jacket off. What kind of workouts do you do?"
Unbidden, the image of some random asshole bandit slugging her, then getting the daylights knocked out of him comes to mind. "I don't know, man, hey stop that!"
"Come on, dude, don't make it weird! Here, look at mine." Kate is wearing a tank top. She turns around and flexes her indeed impressive upper back muscles. "I do rows, obvs, but I mix it with pilates for full-body core engagement, and obviously, a lot of drawing."
Ellie is blushing. Kate is undeniably cute.
"Hey, hey, hey," comes a familiar voice, "no harassing the talent."
Ellie turns to see, to her relief, Tony approaching.
Kate scoffs, holding out her arms as if to say who's the talent?
"Ellie and I here have business to attend to," he says, dropping a case and a roll of canvas onto the workbench. "Don't you have some preparations to do, or something?"
"Or something," says Kate. She shrugs. "Eh, may as well get in some last minute practice. Hey," she punches Ellie's arm. "I'll see you around."
Just like that, she struts out of the lab. She's wearing jeans, Ellie notes with minor indignation. Then she realizes she's looking at her butt, her cheeks grow warm again and she turns around smartly.
Tony's gaze isn't exactly welcome. "Don't mind her. She's real… plucky. Almost too much. And I like plucky. Here, your prescription came in."
"Huh?" Prescription?
Tony unrolls the canvas, revealing a smattering of gleaming instruments.
"Whoa…" says Ellie. Automatically she reaches out and grabs a ten-inch combat knife. The leather grip fits her hand nicely, there's a small guard, and the blade has a three inch serration. It's a flat, gray metal of some kind. Darker than steel. She tests it with her thumb, and almost cuts herself, it's amazingly sharp. "What's this made of?"
"Good question. Tungsten carbide, down to the pommel. Best metal you could reasonably ask for in a blade. It'll hold up against anything, except maybe a bullet. It's all tensile and yield strength, not so much impact."
She's never heard of tungsten carbide, and she doesn't know what tensile strength is. She looks around, and sees another one of those synthoid heads on a table nearby. She tosses the knife into the air, catches the tip of the blade, and hurls it. Tony flinches. The blade zooms through the air and the tip sinks into the eye of the android head, tumbling it across the table.
"Nice! Man, that feels great!"
"Agree," Tony stammers, "to disagree—kid, this is a lab, not a testing area. Are you kidding me?"
"I thought that's what that was for?" She says, referring to the head.
"Actually, that was for study, and I'm pretty sure you took out its left ocular chip, which I could have used. Anyway, can you just cool it, a bit?"
"Sorry…" she says. She walks over and yanks the knife out of the thing's head, replacing it more or less how it had been.
"Yeesh," says Tony under his breath. "Here, Nat has made you familiar with some of this stuff in the HARMchair, I believe…"
There are a variety of specialized cutting tools and multi-tools. She recognizes a pikAx from Nat's training. "Whoa! I get one of these?"
Tony raises his brows. "Standard issue. Unless you became an expert level hacker in there these last few weeks."
"Not hardly, dude…" She looks over the device in her hands. It's a small, sturdy tablet with an impact resistant cover, and a variety of extendable connectors around the edge for interfacing with various things. Nat showed her how to use it to hack or bypass various technological obstacles. "So will Jarvis be with me the whole time, then?"
"As long as you are within my signal range," comes Jarvis's voice from the tablet, to Ellie's surprise. "I will help you to my fullest capabilities to get where you need to go. If you do lose my signal for any reason, the device will still function, albeit in a more manual capacity."
"Cool…" she says. Then her eyes notice something even better. "Dude!"
She grabs the tac bracers. They're just like Nat's. She looks at Tony with hope in her eyes.
"All yours," he says, unable to resist a smile. "And don't look at me, Nat ordered all this stuff. If it were up to me, you'd just get the knife, a pack of gum and some paperclips."
She returns his look in confusion.
"Just a McGuyver reference—nevermind. No shocky shocky, though. You'll have to ask Nat if you want that."
Ellie's already securing it on her wrist. "But it's got the—"
"Don't!" he says suddenly, then lowers his voice. "Yes, yes, it's got the grapple. Do not fire that in here."
Ellie breaks out into a grin.
"Okay, last thing." He gives her a meaningful look. "Any other time, I'd be hesitant about this, but Nat tells me you know your way around them."
He opens the case he brought and there are two handguns inside. The first looks like a newly crafted P938, but a little different. Standard gunmetal, textured wood grip. Compact, easy to handle. "Nice…" she starts, then she notices the other one. "Dude!"
It's a Desert Eagle. She picks up the massive handgun, looking at it in awe in her palm. Her hand is barely big enough for it, but it wraps the grip nicely. It's heavy, but it feels good. A couple people around Jackson had these and she'd always wanted one, impractical or no.
"Now Nat said you handled it fine in the HARM room, but I'm still a bit skeptical—"
She pulls the slide and chambers a round.
"Hey!" shouts Tony, making Ellie start. He turns, running a hand through his hair. Ellie looks up with apprehension. "Again, this is not a testing area—do you want me to take that back?"
"The safety's on…" she says defensively. She opens the chamber and removes the large round, proceeding to remove the magazine and replace it. "Just testing it."
"If you fire that thing in here, I'm putting you on house arrest."
She goes to tuck it into her waistband and Tony holds out his hand.
"No, no, no. We're Avengers, not a biker gang. Come over here."
He leads her over past the stands of suits, and there's a single outfit hanging from a rack. It takes Ellie a second to recognize it, as she's only ever seen it while wearing it.
"Hey, that's…"
"Yep. Jarvis gave me the specs. Got all the details you wanted."
"You could just make it in real life, just like that?"
He considers her. "Well there's material sourcing, leather conditioning, and a list of other things, but yeah, that's what we do here."
She puts her hands on the suit. It's just like the outfit she'd asked Jarvis for in the HARM room. Dark leather, metal-threaded, with flexible patches at all the joints, for maneuverability during a fight. Lots of pockets on the chest and upper legs, and a utility belt. The boots and gloves are hanging from the belt, along with thigh holsters for both size guns.
"This is amazing. Thanks, Tony," she says honestly.
For once, he's a little taken aback. "I mean, I didn't do much. Other than leverage decades of military design concepts to fine tune it, but yeah. No problem."
She takes the suit off the rack. It's sturdy, but not excessively heavy. "Can I take all this to my room?"
"Better. I didn't leave you much time to suit up. But hey," he puts a hand on her shoulder. "Kid—" He twists his lips. "Ellie. I know this isn't new to you, but the way we operate is. Keep your head on straight, stay in Thor and Nat's shadow. Listen to what she tells you. This is a low-threat op, but that doesn't mean low-caution, I trust we're on the same page?"
It doesn't feel patronizing, he means it. And if she's not mistaken, he's saying it because he cares. She returns him a solemn, earnest look, and nods.
"That's good. Now, go on, I got to give old rusty the rundown before the show starts."
She smiles, gathers up her new kit, and heads back to her room.
"Drop in thirty," says the pilot.
Ellie is standing with Nat and Thor. She and Nat have hands on the straps attached to the upper hull of the quinjet. Thor doesn't seem to need one, standing firmly on his feet, hammer—Mjolnir—in hand.
Nerves and fervor wrestle in Ellie's chest. The level-headed part of her notes the insanity of all this, and how out of her element she is. She acknowledged that and tucked it to the back of her mind. Another part of her, the part that's always up for a fight, is readily at hand. She's as nervous to disappoint Nat as she is to get into the fray. Nat assured her that their blitz tactics are highly effective in these situations, and these two are old hands, not to mention…
If anything, Thor's brilliant, blaring glow has only grown more powerful with the anticipation of combat. His face is solemn, and placid, but he practically radiates power. Nat's eyes are even more serious, her focus absolute. Her glow is a deep, almost regal scarlet right now. It's no coincidence that Nat chose the two of them to accompany Ellie on this excursion.
And all that being said, Ellie is growing more and more excited. She takes another deep breath, trying to find a level not unlike Nat's.
"One more time," says Ellie, as if this were her hundredth mission.
Nat doesn't hesitate. "We drop fast, a hundred yards out. You and I take some pot shots, then get into cover. Once security rallies, Thor does his thing, and we push in. We staunch reinforcements, subdue the rest, and open the path to the cargo bay. The SHIELD team drops, loads the goods, and we get out, just like that."
"Just like that," says Ellie, trying to sound confident.
Thor looks her way, a little smile forming on his lips. He inclines his head toward her, adopting an assuring look. "Just like that," he says in his deep, accented voice.
"Dropping in five," says the pilot.
Ellie takes a stiff breath, then rattles it out, letting the thoughts fall from her mind.
The roar of the quinjet's engines grow in pitch as it nears the ground, slowing. The cargo bay opens and the roar grows in volume. The ground is about twelve feet below them.
Without a word, Nat runs forward and jumps out, tumbling into a crouch in the dust. Ellie follows suit.
She ends up on one knee, hand in the soft desert sand. It's hot. The smell brings her back to her first moments she spent on this world. She squares her jaw and stands up.
A long, elevated railway constructed of dark metal extends as far as the eye can see to left and right, about a hundred yards away. There's a large waystation constructed above ground with two sets of stairs leading up to it. Behind that, there are more metallic buildings built into the walls of a red rock cliff face. The sun is bright, the sky a clear blue.
Humanoid forms dot the facility in front of them, carrying guns. Most are robots, but some she recognizes as uniformed humans.
Thor touches down gracefully next to them, having no need for acrobatics.
"Oh shit!" she hears one of the people cry out in the distance.
"Spook 'em," says Nat, drawing her pistol.
Ellie does the same and the two of them begin laying down shots at the most exposed targets. They're too far away to land many shots, but the desired effect is achieved, and the guards scramble. The need for ammo conservation sounds at the back of Ellie's mind, but this isn't like back home. She's got plenty.
The sounds of gunfire and some bright blue, plasma-like bolts come their way with unremarkable accuracy.
Nat drops behind a raised rock formation near where they landed, and Ellie does the same a second later.
Ellie looks at Nat as if to ask all going to plan so far?
Nat shakes her head, then gestures over the rock.
Ellie peeks to see Thor flying rapidly toward the installation. His approach is met with several curses.
He pulls up a short ways from the buildings, and most of those in front of him take cover. Several AIM drones have taken flight amidst the bullets and ray trails. Thor seems to mind them little more than rain. He spins his hammer with blinding speed. His deep voice carries the long distance.
"In the name of Odin," he intones, as electricity arcs from his body, "you have invoked my wrath!"
Small, dark storm clouds even form above him. He catches his hammer and directs it toward them, and a terrifying burst of lightning covers the entire face of the structure, sending the guards flying, some of the synthoids in pieces.
"Holy crap," breathes Ellie.
"Yep," says Nat, "move."
They charge out from the rock across the packed dirt. Thor has already advanced. Those that survived the initial assault are continuing to lay pressure on him. A group of smaller proto-synthoids jump at him, but none land a hit, or survive a single blow from his hammer, flying through the air, striking metal walls and tumbling through the dirt.
As Ellie nears the structure, one of the synthoids is attempting to regain its feet. She plants a 9mm round into its temple, and it goes limp. One of the humans lying on the metal platform, scorch marks on his chest armor, rouses and grabs her leg as she tries to pass him. She bends down and slugs him in the jaw, and he goes out.
"Barracks on the left and right, main storage access ahead," says Jarvis into their comms.
Passing underneath the elevated train station, there are indeed two sets of heavy, hydraulic doors set into the stone walls to the left and right, about fifty meters apart. Farther away and in front of them is a large rolling door, maybe ten meters across.
"Keep this clean," says Nat over her shoulder to Ellie, gunning down a standing synthoid, "lock down the right barracks." She immediately moves off to the left.
After a split second, Ellie follows her meaning, and sprints to the doors on the right. What's to happen if they open up before she gets there, she doesn't—
The doors open a few meters in front of her, revealing a sizable group of armed human guards. They pull back in surprise at seeing her.
"The hell? Freeze!" the lead guard shouts at her, shouldering his gun.
But Ellie is already throwing one of her impact stun grenades, and it strikes his chest.
She closes her eyes, but she still bears witness to the blinding flash and thunderous sound. The corridor is filled with grunts and curses as guards fall to the ground.
Ellie's shoulder slams into the metallic housing for the doors, next to the console that controls them. "How do I—"
"Just hold the pikAx in close proximity," says Jarvis into her comms.
Ellie pulls it from her belt and does as asked. The door console begins reacting immediately. It emits an angry sound and the doors slam shut.
"I've, ah, hosed it all up," says Jarvis. "These doors will not open for some time."
"Converge at the cargo bay," says Nat over comms.
Ellie looks to see Thor standing in front of them, unopposed. He points his hammer at a console next to the huge roll up door, small arcs of electricity probing it, but there's no effect.
"No?" he says. "Fine. Withstand me, then!"
He spins his hammer and hurls it into the center of the massive rollup door. Its impact immediately folds the doors inward, crinkling under the strain, then ripping out of their housing and tumbling into the interior space.
The destruction knocks several guards that were waiting inside off their feet forcefully.
By this point, Ellie is closing in on the threshold herself. Thor is aloft inside. He begins batting down drones that are flying into attack. Nat assists by blasting them down one at a time with her own Desert Eagle. She steps into each terrific blast just as her feet are planted as she steps forward, professionally, making the huge recoil look manageable.
Ellie opts for her Nighthawk—the P938-like 9mm—and peppers the drones until their propulsion goes haywire and they careen into the floor and wall.
She notices movement. One of the guards is still conscious. He goes limp, but he's playing. She walks up, holstering the pistol, grabs his hair, and just as his eyes go wide and he flails a defense, she slugs him out, too.
"Is that it, then?" asks Thor? The wreckage of the door he destroyed obstructs the middle of the large inner chamber. He grabs it with one hand, and hurls it to the side against the wall.
"Still need to secure the objective," says Nat. She holsters her gun.
Ellie follows Nat's eyes to the rear of the chamber.
There are stacks of pallets and crates of various sizes where they are, but the majority of the stores are at the back of the chamber, behind a floor-to-ceiling, glowing golden-yellow barrier of some kind.
"That won't give, even to Mjolnir," says Nat.
"Are you sure?" Thor says, uncertain.
"Not without putting Ellie and I in danger," says Nat. "Jarvis?"
"There is a junction room downstairs, it should be no problem. More immediately, this facility seems to have fielded a dreadbot, which you may wish to address."
There's a huge crashing sound, accompanied by whirring and hydraulics. Ellie turns to see a massive, spider-like robot steadying itself a few meters outside the entrance to the bay.
"Damn it," Nat curses, more in annoyance. "Thor, let's handle this."
"With pleasure," he replies, flying at the monstrosity, hammer first.
"Ellie, get Jarvis to the junction room," says Nat, right before cartwheeling out of the way of a laser from the dreadbot's eye, which looks like it could have cut her in half.
Ellie hesitates, and Nat shoots a look over her shoulder. "Ellie!"
Ellie snaps to, looking over her shoulder at a door on the right side of the bay.
"That's the one, Ms. Coulsen."
Ellie breaks into a sprint for the door, which opens automatically. Metallic steps lead her down a couple landings to another door, which opens just as easily.
She enters a five by ten meter room with six pillars along the inside of it. Several panels covered with instruments line the walls.
"Which…?"
"Mind your Oculus, Ms. Coulsen."
Ellie's mind snaps back to Nat's tech tool training, and she raises her arm under her eyes, a holographic display projecting from her vambrace. It highlights a panel against the back wall. Ellie rushes over to it.
"Red and yellow, please," says Jarvis.
PikAx interfacing is color coded. She produces the device again, pulls the red-capped bolt plug, and inserts it into a compatible socket on the panel. She searches for a space for the yellow bar-plug.
"Ah, behind the display, you may need to—"
Ellie doesn't hesitate, having done it many times in the HARM room. She pulls out her combat knife and slides it into the gap to the sides of a mid-size touch screen at shoulder-height. It's secured by cheap plastic plugs, and pops off with some leverage. Several cords connect it to the circuitry underneath. She yanks out the bar plug, and replaces it with the pikAx extension, which automatically resizes itself to fit securely.
"Very good," says Jarvis, "a moment, then."
Mechanical sounds issue from the side of the room where she entered. She wheels.
Two compartments open near the entrance door, and units she recognizes as elite synthoids climb out of them. Black, angular metal frames capped with red running lights and sinister, red-glowing eyes, these are way tougher and smarter than their low-grade counterparts.
"Shit!" she curses.
"Escape untenable," says Jarvis, "I recommend taking cover and disabling by any means."
Ellie's already taking cover, this time drawing her heavy handgun.
"Hostile in the control room," says one of the units in a robotic voice.
"Avengers on site," says the other. "Subdue immediately."
Despite the fact that she can see them through her cover, Ellie instinctively peeks around it. One of them levels it's laser wielding hand toward her, glowing a hateful red. She pulls back just in time to avoid the piercing beam, its heat stinging her cheek.
"Rushing," says one of them, and it makes metallic footfalls as it sprints across the chamber.
Ellie emerges and raises her weapon. The charging unit pulls up and dips its shoulder as she pulls the trigger. The round misses it and glances the unit behind it, unbalancing it.
It's the first live .50 caliber round she's shot, and even her seasoned shoulder muscles cause her to take a half-step back.
The closer unit takes advantage and swings, trying to knock the gun from her hand. It's fast and powerful, but still lacks human intuition. Ellie separates her hands and evades the swing, as well as the follow up, aimed for her head. The wall is closed behind her, and she grabs the unit's shoulder and slams the butt of the heavy gun into its forehead.
Its head rocks back, but it is unfazed, and proceeds to head butt Ellie.
Her back slams into the wall. It advances on her, rearing a straight that could knock her brains out. She aims the gun in hip-fire, bracing it with her left hand, and fires a round directly into the unit's chest cavity.
The round rips through the robot and ricochets angrily around the room. Its body spasms.
"Unit damaged," it says.
Before she can fire again, it's arm strikes her hand whip-like, sending the gun from her grip. Snarling, she steps forward, grabs it by the back of its head. It resists, but its functions are clearly impaired by the damage to its torso. She's about to slam its head into the wall when she sees the other preparing its primary laser weapon.
She spins, using the bot as cover. There's a flash of red light and her near adversary absorbs the cutting beam, spasming again.
"Threat escalated," says the farther unit. "Priority shift."
The unit is scarcely grappling with her anymore, reduced to mostly twitching. She draws her combat knife and rams it under the thing's jaw into its central control chip, like Nat taught her. It goes limp and drops to the ground.
The other synthoid is operating a touchpad. There are more mechanical sounds, and Ellie looks to see a larger compartment opening across the room. Encased inside is a larger unit, over two meters tall, rippling with synthetic muscle. It has a single, lifeless cybernetic eye in the middle of its humanoid skull.
An adaptoid.
Ellie's heart skips a beat. She rips a scrambler from her belt, and hurls the electrical disruption blade at the touch screen. It cracks the glass display and there's a flash. The screen goes white, then powers down.
The synthoid stares at the inert screen for a moment, then turns and extends its arm at her, its palm glowing red.
Ellie dives and just avoids the lethal beam, taking cover behind a pillar. Through it, she can see that lights continue to blink and flicker in the adaptoid's housing and body. "JARVIS!"
"Yes, addressing urgently."
The elite synthoid advances on her, and Ellie moves at the same time. She slips to the next pillar, using it for cover as well. She feints to the right, drawing another laser beam, then slips back around the left, closes in and backhands the unit across the face.
Again, it is barely stunned, and goes for a low punch to Ellie's gut.
She turns, but still takes a hit, grunting with pain. She slugs it in the jaw. It swings widely and she ducks it easily. She slugs it again, but it scarcely reacts. She draws her knife. It swings from her right, and she blocks at the elbow. It immediately follows up from the left, and she blocks that too, grabs its forearm, shoves it, and drives her knife forcefully into its left shoulder to the hilt.
Its left arm spasms and goes limb. "Damage sustained." It raises its leg and swiftly boots Ellie in the midsection. She tumbles back into a crouch, but as she's rising, it's readying another beam.
This time, there's no time to dive out of the way. The energy in its palm reaches peak intensity, and time slows to a crawl. Ellie's eyes lose focus, her awareness fully unifying with her sixth sense. Its arm carves an upward path from the ground as it emits the deadly beam, and Ellie pivots on her right foot, her body turning sideways, moving only inches. The beam passes right in front of her, painful heat moving in a wave up her body, but the beam only cuts a few strands of her swinging hair.
Time resumes its normal pace and Ellie advances, furious. The unit seems to be given pause, this time. It takes a step back, but before its foot finds the ground, Ellie kicks its knee savagely. It stumbles awkwardly to its other knee and hands, and she knees it in the face with all her strength.
It falls onto its back, her knife still jutting from its shoulder. She falls on its torso, her left leg pinning its good arm. She rips her knife from its shoulder.
"Unit—"
She slams the knife down into its ocular cavity. It spasms and goes still.
"Wasted," Ellie finishes.
Some beeping catches her attention, and she looks up to see lights dancing across the adaptoid's massive frame. A growing, conscious light appears in its central eye. She sucks in a breath.
Then there's a loud clack, and the sound of machinery spinning down. The light fades.
"Emergency boot sequence terminated," says Jarvis. "Narrowly," he adds. "Excellent play with the disruption blade."
"Thank you," says Ellie, somewhat numbly, standing up.
"The field is down. Retrieve the pikAx and rejoin the others."
Ellie does as instructed. The device hangs by the cords she connected. When she picks it up, they retract automatically.
She climbs back up the stairs without further incident. The ground level doors part in front of her.
The other threats must be neutralized, because Thor is floating in the air, hammer in hand and vigilant, while Nat concisely directs a team of SHIELD personnel who are loading crates by hand onto hovering platforms, while others haul full loads out of the bay.
Past the smoking wreckage of the dreadbot, another ship has landed outside the bay entrance. This one is more square and far bulkier, with four rotary propulsion engines on the corners, kind of like a micro-Chimera. It has a large cargo bay where the goods are being loaded.
Nat beckons her.
"No searching, grab what you see!" she says in a raised voice. "You know the orders. Cargo codes Condor, Backdraft, and Bangalore, in that order. Last grab in thirty seconds. No pushing it!"
The SHIELD operatives move with alacrity at her commands. She looks at Ellie.
"Ran into trouble in there, huh? That wasn't expected. I was about to go down there when I heard Jarvis say the threat had been neutralized."
"I managed," says Ellie. "What do I do now?"
"Wait here," she says, "I don't expect more trouble, but you'll be ready for it. We're out of here in sixty."
She's not looking at Ellie but Ellie nods anyway.
Indeed, no more trouble materializes. Nat calls off the acquisition team and loading proceeds with tactical swiftness. The quinjet they rode in on drops down next to the cargo carrier.
"Load up!" shouts Nat.
Ellie runs to the quinjet, but it's pretty far off the ground. Thor appears next to her, hovering. He offers her his hand.
She takes it, grabs his shoulder with the other, and steps on top of his foot. He lifts them easily into the open door of the quinjet. Ellie grabs the handhold.
The cargo ship is closing up, the last of crew and crate inside. Nat, last on the ground, sprints toward the quinjet, fires her grapple into the interior, and jumps along with the retracting cord, landing forcefully but securely inside.
It's extremely badass.
Ellie's chastising herself for not trying the same when the cargo doors close.
"That's a wrap," says Nat, "Davis, take us home."
Ellie walks into the conference room—the same one Nat had broken the awful news to her weeks before—and it's a bustle. All the Avengers she's met, including the Hawkeyes, are there, talking casually in good spirits. Tony seems to be competing with Thor on who had accomplished the more heroic antics for the day. Kate is excitedly recounting to Clint the highlights of their own successful run. Despite having been there, he listens with patient amusement. Bruce… isn't Bruce, he's Hulk. He picks at his fingernails idly, seemingly waiting for something. Nat is, as usual, on her tablet, going over some kind of data, and relaying things to Steve in lower tones.
Ellie hesitates for a second, then catches Kamala's eye. The younger girl beckons her excitedly. Ellie walks around the table and takes an empty seat next to her.
"Good mood, huh?" Ellie says to her in low tones.
"Smells like victory!" Kamala says back, fist bumping her. She looks over Ellie's outfit. "Dude, badass much?"
Ellie looks down. She left her guns and tool belt in her room, but she's still wearing the rest of the getup. "You like it?"
Kamala makes a face like uh, yeah!
Ellie smiles. "I'm thinking of requesting some modifications."
"Oh, yeah," says Kamala. "I'm always thinking of little changes. Mostly just for looks, though. Chastity—have you met her? She's all about design. She'll hook you up with all sorts of cool accessories..."
As she listens, Ellie glances over her shoulder. Behind her is that wide window she'd been afraid of on her first day. Thousands of feet in the air, the continental US spreads out below her in swirls of desert, forest and mountain, wispy swirls of cloud dancing in the atmosphere they share. She smiles and shakes her head.
"Alright, folks," says Steve, and the conversations die down. "Time for the recap."
"How'd we do?" Kamala asks eagerly.
"Oh, we did," says Steve. "What's our tally, Nat?"
"We secured 324 crates of various supplies," says Nat formally, "99.1% of them target assets. Scarcely a mishap, few casualties, no deaths on either side."
"Huzzah!" says Thor. He appears to be hefting a mug of ale? "A sign of great victory!"
"That's a lot of assets," says Tony, "but you know what I want to hear."
"Teams have been logging the more volatile assets into secure storage," says Nat. "Based on their scans, I can confirm we retrieved 35 crates of 2-Tachyon."
Tony whistles. "Total mass?"
"Each crate is about 98% containment material, but in total, we got roughly 8 kilograms of pure molecular structure."
Tony chuckles. "I'd say increasing our supply by 7,481% is a pretty good day, wouldn't you Bruce?"
He addresses Hulk, who after a moment, looks at Tony and scowls. "No Bruce." He looks down at his awesome musculature and pounds his chest, incredulous. "Tony know. Hulk! No Bruce…" He looks away and pouts his lips, snorting. "Tony know."
"What does that mean?" Ellie asks, hung up on the 2-Tachyon, their primary mission, and also the most relevant to her.
"It means a few things," says Steve. "It means a major setback to AIM, firstly. It also means a solid supply of material, if and when we get to a testing phase, which…" He looks at Tony.
"Not yet, Cap. I'm ready to push the button, but you know my role on the team. Bruce and Hank are hard at work calculating every conceivable contingency. May be a few weeks, yet."
Steve nods, looking back at Ellie. "It also means our analytics team had it on the nose. We hit AIM where it hurts, today."
When Ellie realizes what he's saying, she feels her cheek redden. Kamala punches her on the shoulder with a way to go, you! face. It feels good, but the attention is also somewhat unwanted.
"Ellie proved her mettle today!" says Thor sonorously. "Whilst disabling AIM's occult barrier, she was ambushed by two of those nasty—what are they? The red ones, you know…"
"Elite synthoids?" Tony asks with genuine interest. "Wow, those guys are mean. By yourself?"
Not sure how to respond, Ellie just nods. "I mean, it was them or me."
Hulk laughs at that, unsettling Ellie. He slaps his leg, jutting his head toward her. "Always them."
Ellie smiles involuntarily and nods. She can't disagree.
The door to the conference room opens, and a Japanese man in his late twenties pushes a cart into the room.
"Now," says Steve, "you guys know I don't normally approve special requisitions for the Avengers."
Ellie looks at the cart curiously. There are two tiers of large, covered ceramic bowls with light pink foreign characters stained about the circumference.
"He's talking about food," Nat whispers to her, increasing Ellie's interest.
"But there was a bit of leftovers from the celebration last month, and Liam was amenable."
Kamala sucks in a gasp. "Is that ramen?"
Ellie looks on with interest. The Japanese soldiers in Sacramento had told her all about the virtues of ramen, but she'd never had any.
"Have you ever had this?" Nat asks her, as if reading her mind. Ellie shakes her head. Nat inclines hers, offering a silent thumbs-up.
"And you'll find this a good bowl, indeed," says Liam, placing the huge dish in front of her.
"It's huge," Ellie remarks.
"Once you start," he continues, "you'll find it's just enough."
"Thank you," she says before she forgets.
"He's right," says Steve. "We didn't have much of this in Brooklyn, back in my day. I never tried it until this millennium. Thank you for whipping this up for us, Liam."
"It's my pleasure," says Liam, laying a bowl in front of Kamala, who's literally bouncing in her seat. "My grandfather once told me that schooling is essential, but the most important lessons are learned at home. One of those, of course, was him teaching me to prepare ramen."
"Tokyo?" Kamala asks. "Sapporo?"
"Sapporo, of course," Liam replies.
"What kind of…?" Kamala trails off.
Liam laughs. "Why don't you look and see?"
The bowl is topped with a paper covering, and Ellie lifts it off.
The huge bowl is filled near to the brim with a rich brown broth. There are lots of noodles, and it's topped with bright greens, a split, boiled egg, mushrooms, corn, flakes of red pepper, and thick slices of some fair meat. It's steaming heartily, and when the smell hits Ellie's nose, her eyes practically roll back in her head.
"Dude, this smells incredible."
"Wait till you try it," says Kamala. "Oh my god, chashuuu, I've missed yoooouuu."
Liam is serving Hulk. He leans over holding up two fingers questioningly. Hulk frowns, considering. He holds up three huge fingers. Liam nods. "I thought so." One by one, he puts down three of the large bowls in front of Hulk. Hulk purses his lips and rubs his hands together rapidly in comic anticipation.
"Enjoy," says Liam with clear pride, before wheeling the cart from the room.
"Ah, a passing fine succor!" says Thor before his steaming bowl. "You humans truly have made strides in the culinary world. Still, these endeavor to vex me…" He spends a few moments arranging the chopsticks in his hand.
Ellie's no pro, but the Zhang family's restaurant in Jackson has familiarized her with the utensils. Following Kamala's lead, she picks up a swath of noodles, blowing on them before taking a bite. They're chewy, and the savory broth provides an explosion of flavor. "Oh my god, dude…" she says, her mouth mostly full.
Nat, still chewing, uses her chopsticks to point to the split boiled egg.
After swallowing, Ellie picks one of hers up, with some difficulty. It looks familiar enough, but the yolk is soft, even runny, and the outside is darkened, as if soaked in a dark sauce. She takes a bite.
She's had plenty of boiled eggs, especially since the girls started laying. She generally associates them as a relatively flavorless source of protein, but this isn't even close.
She has to lean back in her chair and cover her mouth to avoid grunting in satisfaction. Kamala eyes her and nods her head with a conspiratorial smile, as if to say yeah, right?
Hours removed from the pulse-pounding harrows of combat, the table alights with good-humored jokes and conversation. As they eat, Thor tells a few tales from his time that sound straight of out mythology. Ellie ends up agreeing to a friendly archery competition with Kate, which Clint agrees to judge. Hulk, after gorging himself on three bowls of ramen—and forget chopsticks, he drinks directly from the bowl—ends up threatening to destroy his chair as he leans back into it with a hand on his belly, half-asleep. Steve reminisces about the old first-generation Italian restaurants of his youth, while Nat relates her nostalgia for the ubiquitous pirozhki street stands she remembers from her youth in Russia.
Her fear and sorry nag at the back of her mind, but for the evening, Ellie allows herself just to feel good. Still, it's strange that the danger of the earlier operation can coexist with this warm atmosphere of camaraderie on the same day.
She finds herself wondering, is this what it's like to be an Avenger?