by terre nymphe
as aforementioned in the summary, this piece borrows both characters and storylines from Gundam Wing, Sailor Moon, and Dark Angel. I do not own, nor have any claim to, any of these shows and/or comics. I apologize for any perceived plagiarism and assure readers that it is not intentional.
Director A looked down at the circled date on his calendar. It was Usa's birthday. Exactly fifteen years ago, he'd received the call from Dr. Smith. Fourteen years ago, she'd begun her training. Ten years ago, she'd been further sequestered and the intensity of her training had been increased exponentially. Three years ago, she'd been implanted with her security clearance chip. Now, she was fifteen and ready for fieldwork, skipping general population for now. All she needed now was her identification tattoo and she would be off on her first real mission. A knock on the door was enough to wipe the tiny smirk of pride from his face.
"You may enter."
"G0-0630 reporting as ordered, sir!"
"Sit down Usagi. I have some work to finish before we take our little trip."
The girl sat down on the edge of the nearest chair; her posture was perfect. Director A took a good look at the girl sitting in front of him. She stared straight ahead– fully aware of his intense scrutiny. Her petite figure, long blonde hair, and ice blue eyes carefully hid the powerhouse that she really was. To an outside observer, she might seem to be innocent and frail, but in reality, she had the strength and ability to kill a man with her pinkie– he'd seen her do it. He had created her with this kind of deception in mind. Her training program had been almost identical to the program developed by Dr. J for his soldier. Usagi was proficient in weapons, strategy, physical combat/acrobatics, intelligence, and she was a fully trained medic. The feline DNA incorporated in her genetic make-up added many advantages. She could see long distances and in the dark; she could balance on a wire; she could run faster than a speeding bullet; and she could leap tall buildings in a single bound. As if that wasn't enough, Director A had added shark DNA, which allowed her to stay awake, alert, and fully functioning with a minimum of 7 hours of sleep per week. The other 161 hours in the week were devoted purely to training. She was indeed a super-being.
In addition to her military training, Usagi was a classically trained dancer. Director A had foreseen the need for her to interact in high society functions with victims and informants, as well as, the easily infiltrated entertainment business. If she couldn't finagle her way into the parties with an invitation or a date, she could pose as entertainment. He'd had her exposed to every type of dance he could find tutors for. The emphasis, though, had fallen on ballet, and Usagi excelled in it. The discipline required in ballet rivaled that of the discipline demanded by The Society. It was a comfortable position for her, and she liked it as much as she liked anything– or was allowed to like anything.
"I am ready to go now, Usagi." Director rose from his seat and left the room; followed closely by the silent soldier.
The pair stopped by the Requisitions building and retrieved the suitcase for Usagi's first mission before walking to the motor pool. A car was waiting for them and it drove off as soon as the director closed the door behind him. The trip continued in silence. While Usa studied her mission specs for the last time, Director A used the time to reflect on the past few years.
Five years ago, the Founders decided to switch teams– sort of. The UN taskforce that had formed and bankrolled the project, as well as, the entire world's government had been replaced by the OZ organization. Secretly, OZ had been running things for years, but they'd decided to go public. The change in power had threatened the anonymity of The Society and its goals. The Founders did not want OZ to find out about the program and disrupt the valuable research and work they'd accomplished. To solve the problem, they'd gotten in touch with the ruling families of the space colonies, and in essence, switched sides. The addition of The Society allowed the space colonies to go ahead with their plan to fight for their freedom. Many Society soldiers had been deployed across the world, establishing safe houses, bases, contacts, and shell companies– everything a covert operation would require. The Society's new mission statement was to get rid of OZ.
When he was finished reminiscing, Director A turned to Usagi and together they reviewed her mission specifications. The pair had an interesting relationship. He treated her like a soldier, but he spoke to her almost like a daughter, not with kindness so much as with informality. She called him "sir" and her posture was always straighter when he entered a room, but he spoke to her with a conversational tone and never gave her a direct order– not that he needed to. Usagi would follow him to the ends of the earth. He was the father figure she wasn't supposed to have and she was the daughter in the life that he hadn't allowed himself to partake of.
The journey ended in a week. The van pulled into a dark alley behind an abandoned warehouse. Usagi had been here fifteen years before, though she would not have remembered it. Director A found it quite poetic that her last bit of freedom would die in the same room in which she'd been born. He, closely followed by Usagi, found his way inside via the well-hidden service entrance. They walked through the dimly lit hallways until they reached the only room with furniture. A short, portly man was waiting for them; his name, not that it mattered, was Hector. He motioned Usagi to the table in front of him. With a glance to Director A for approval, Usagi unbelted her trousers and lay down. Hector's eyes widened a bit at the sight of her smooth, unblemished skin; Usagi saw his reaction but remained unaffected. Hector raised his hand to her hip to hold her in place. With his other hand, he tattooed her. She was to have a small, black crescent moon on the right side of her pelvis, directly above her credentials (G0-0630). The numbers were in barcode form and had been present since birth– encoded in her DNA. As her identification tattoos, they had to be discreet. Were they ever seen, she would be able to explain them away as a youthful indiscretion.
Hector finished the last bit of shading and stepped back to admire his work– and the girl. She had not so much flinched through the entire process. He'd seen the roughest bikers cry when they were being tattooed, but this girl had not even whimpered. He took one last swipe at the tattoo with his towel, letting his fingers linger for a minute. Unlike the others, she didn't shy away from his inappropriate caress. He looked up at her face and was met with two emotionless, ice blue eyes. She rose from the table, readjusted her pants, and returned to Director A's side. Hector turned to look at the other man and was surprised by what he saw. There was a gun pointed at his head; the face behind it was twisted in rage. Director A stared him straight in the eyes.
"If you ever touch her again, I will burn off your hands. If you ever look at her like that again, I will cut out your eyes. And if you ever tell anyone that G0-0630 is female, I will rip out your tongue."
Hector nodded slowly. He knew the risks when he joined the Society. He knew that any screw up could result in a bullet between the eyes, but he had never actually been so scared as he was now. He had encounters with the other five Founders, but none of them were as menacing as Director A.
Putting his gun back in its holster, Director A turned to the girl. She was unfazed. She'd been trained to use her sexuality to her advantage– it was just another weapon. Hector's attention had not bothered her, though she seemed slightly surprised by her Founder's reaction. He was surprised as well. He knew that she would have to endure this sort of treatment eventually and made sure she could handle it. He worried about her sometimes though. He and Dr. J had purposely created emotionless soldiers– living machines. The idea had been favorable at the time, but Director A almost regretted his decision. Usa just seemed so empty. Selfish as it seemed, he wanted her to feel the same kind of devotion for him that he felt for her– he wanted his daughter to love him. He hoped that when the threat of OZ was extinguished, she would be able to put aside her soldier ways and consent to live a "normal" life as his daughter. Storing the unrealistic hope in the back of his head, he put on his "Founder face" and headed toward the door. As silently as they'd entered, they left the warehouse and made their way back to the van. Sitting next to it was a sleek, black motorcycle. Director A handed Usagi the key and, with a final salute, she rode off on her first mission.