Thanks for the Reviews everyone, please keep them coming; it's the only way I'll get better. Sorry this chapter took so long, the next one should be up within the next few days.
Disclaimer: I don't own CoH. Sista Strike and Nema are only characters I play in game, and fantasize about at night. I know I'm not the only one that has thought about hot nuns right? ...............right?
Chapter 4
Aftermath
After the events in Atlas Park, the two agents were once again on the train heading to Nema's apartment in Kings Row. While together, they sat in silence; Nema gazing out the train windows at the bypassing scenery, and Strike staring into space recalling the recent happenings. It had taken her quite awhile to recover from the adrenaline rush the battle gave her; she could still feel her hands trembling slightly. "First real fight, huh?" Nema said, finally breaking the silence. Strike jolted at the sudden noise that shook her from her hypnotized state. "Is it that obvious?" "Well, if you shook any harder, the train would jump the track for sure." Nema replied playfully, smiling warmly at her while holding her katana across her lap. It was the same smile she gave her earlier in Atlas, the smile that made her forget that she almost ginsued a bunch of hellions in a flash. How did she do that? She must be more skilled than my report gives her credit for. "Um...." Strike started; "I've been meaning to ask you. Those hellions.....you didn't....um" She struggled to find the right words not to offend her new partner. "Kill them?" Nema finished. "Nope, that's not allowed in Paragon, hero or not. Those guys may be walking funny when they wake up, but they'll live, trust me." Strike nodded in response, a slight feeling of relief coming over her after hearing this. Sure, according to the authority that the AHD had given them, they were allowed to "dispose of heretics by any means necessary", but the thought of killing someone in the streets left a bad taste in her mouth that she didn't want to have to endure. She rested her head on the wall of the train and let her thoughts drift as they continued to ride toward their destination.
The train came to a halt at its next stop, the last stop for the two AHD agents: Kings Row. Strike followed closely as Nema lead the way to her apartment. As they walked down the once bountiful and lively streets of the old industrial city, Strike could only wonder why anyone would live here voluntarily. The streets were filthy, members of the Skull gang were at every corner, and the old factories left the town smelling like burnt rubber 24 hours a day. "Here we are, home sweet home." Nema said as she stopped in front of a complex that looked strikingly similar to all the others in the area. The walls looked dull and chipped, litter was everywhere, and even the building numbers were illegible. This is supposed to be where we live for now? Ewwww. "The AHD set us up with a place like this? Glad to see we mean sooo much to them." Strike complained. Though it wasn't her nature, this sight could push anyone to their limit of patience. Nema simply shrugged and entered. "We work for a network of churches, what do you expect?" They climbed the apartment steps together (the elevator was out of order, surprise, surprise). Inside the apartment was surprisingly cleaner than Strike would have guessed, but only barely. There was still an aroma in the air that she would rather not have taken a guess at what it may be though.
"Oh god, don't tell me you're recruiting now." A voice came from behind them causing Strike to nearly blow a hole in the floor. She turned to face the owner, only to see a man dressed in red carrying a very large weapon. Strike assumed a defensive position and was ready to attack when she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down rookie. I know this deadbeat." Nema said jokingly. "Better a deadbeat than the next star in a Hollywood slasher flick." The man replied. He was wearing a custom made suit that seemed to be meant for a nice date rather than fighting crime. His weapon, which Strike had seen many heroes carrying, was slung over his shoulder by a sturdy leather strap. It seemed to weigh heavily on the man as he was leaning his body to compensate. "Whatever, anyway, this is Sista Strike. She'll be staying with me while we complete our mission here. Strike, this Casanova wannabe is Hot Lead; our resident marksman and snazzy dresser." "Pleased to meet you Mr. Lead." Strike answered with a small bow. "Please just call me HL, or Lead, or Hot. All the other ladies do, if you know what I'm saying." He flashed a smile toward Strike that hinted that he was only kidding.....maybe. Nema tugged on her cloak slightly telling her it was time to go. "We'll catch you later Lead, it's been a long trip for her." With a carefree wave, Hot Lead headed back down the hall as Nema and Strike went in the opposite direction. Nema's apartment was near the end of the hall on the fourth floor of the complex; it wasn't exactly how Strike pictured it would be. There were beer cans and magazines scattered all over the floor and empty pizza boxes on the table. The small kitchen was piled with dirty dishes and grease covered the stove like a fresh coat of paint. This looks like a damn college dorm. She's supposed to be a nun like me? She thought as she tip-toed around the small, two room apartment, trying carefully not to trip over the clutter.
After she had settled in, she and Nema sat in what Strike had concluded to be the living room. Strike sat silently drinking tea going over the forms in her folder, while Nema sat opposite of her; drinking beer and watching television. "You know," Strike started "you're not exactly what I had in mind. You're an AHD agent just like me, and yet you're so.....um" she stalled, once again searching for the right words. "Un-nun like?" Nema finished. "Exactly, what gives? I just realized that I really don't know much about you, aside from what I have in my files. Mind letting me in on the Nema-story?" Nema gave her a mixed look, one of confusion and annoyance. It also seemed like the alcohol was finally starting to kick in. She walked to the fridge and got two more cans, then plopped back down in front of Strike, tossing a can in the process. "You wanna know, then drink up." Strike hesitantly opened the can and started to drink the amber fluid inside. Not being much of a drinker, she nearly gagged at the first taste. This, of course, caused Nema to erupt in a laughing heap on the floor. "Good stuff huh?" she said as she continued to make fun of her partner. "Ok so, what do you want to know?" Strike tried to think. Even though she hadn't even finished one can of beer, she was already finding it hard to concentrate. Let's see, maybe you could tell me why the hell you're such a slob, or why you're acting like a drunken prom date, or.... "Um...why don't you tell me how you are able to use a razor sharp weapon, and not kill anyone." She said as she eyed the sheathed weapon in the corner of the room. Nema took another sip from her can before she spoke. "I use a technique called kenshin-baiken-ryu. It's basically a sword style that's meant to incapacitate your opponent rather than killing them. It's not common knowledge, but most heroes here use similar styles since killing isn't allowed like I said earlier." "Why is that anyway? Many AHD missions end in bloodshed, why is this so different?" Nema looked at the floor, shuffling through a pile of papers lying there. She finally handed a sheet to Strike. "This is your hero license for Paragon City. Everyone that fights crime here is required to have one. The rules of heroing in Paragon state that "heroes are in place to help justice, and not to take it in their own hands", thus no killing is allowed. If we are to complete our mission, we can't bring a bad image to our organization and have people asking questions. So, until we find our targets, we'll have to abide by the rules for the time being. Understand?" She said before finishing yet another can. She must be quite the drinker. I wonder why she drinks so much. "Ok, now it's my turn." Nema's words sent a chill down Strike's spine. What could she possibly want to know about me? Please don't ask about my past, please don't. Nema gave her an accusing look at first, as if she knew what Strike was thinking. Then her features relaxed to their normal state. "Exactly, how much control do you have over your power?" The question echoed in her mind over and over. Visions of the ruined village flashed before her, the sights and sounds of death clawing their way to the surface of her psyche. Does she know? She can't...can she? "Um, why do you ask?" Nema's accusing look returned. "Well, you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but it's pretty obvious that you lack complete control. The way you handled yourself in Atlas was good for a noob, but you missed more baddies than you actually hit. Like I said: it was still a good attempt for your first real fight." Whew. "Well, I can control my powers about as well as the next hero I guess. No real problems to speak of." She lied. She knew that it was wrong to lie to someone that she basically owed her life to, but she couldn't bear to have to tell the tale of her past. "Good to hear. Before we get started on our mission, we'll have to get you some experience. I'll have Hot Lead and few other friends I've met here take you around and show you the ropes. When you're ready, we'll show those heretics what the wrath of god really is. YEAH!!" Apparently, the beer was really starting to kick in. Strike was already finding it hard to stay awake, as her head bobbed up and down in a desperate attempt to stay conscience. The last thing she remembers seeing that night was Nema placing a blanket over her while she lay on the couch. "We'll continue this tomorrow. Get some sleep; I'll see you in the morning......lightweight." Her laughs sent her into a deep sleep, as thoughts for tomorrow raced in her mind.
Not bad for a full days worth of work, once again, I 'm sorry for the delay.