The Counterintelligence Department's purpose after a capture and recovery of US persons was to ensure that no sensitive information was leaked to the enemy and if there was, exactly what was leaked. Scott was interviewed by several different investigators. They were kind to him, sympathetic to his pain and likely psychological damage. He told the truth, leaving none of it out, no detail of his encounter with Abu Hassan and his group of fighters. When one investigator asked him what had happened and how he escaped from Abu Hassan, Scott told the truth about his creature. He would not lie to an investigator. He had to tell someone.
The investigator seemed surprised for a short moment before making a note on his clipboard.
"Are you telling me that you are a parahuman? That you can summon a creature that can kill 43 people?" he seemed slightly troubled by the question he had asked. Like it didn't quite make sense to him.
"I believe I am, sir." Lying to a CI investigator could lead to jail time and loss of benefits after being kicked out of the military. And there was no way for him to really come out about his abilities through the military other than this way.
"I'm going to tell you some things. It has happened in the past that a parahuman triggers while in service to the DoD. Our official policy is that we do not allow existing parahumans to join any branch of service. But those that trigger while fulfilling duties to the US… In this case, you will be given a few choices. You can finish out your current contract, however long that is with your current specialty but you will not be eligible for reenlistment. Or, you can agree to another contract. Something that will change your specialty."
"You mean, they'll kick me out? After everything I've done for this Army?!" Scott was getting red in the face. What right did they have to deny him the job he had done so well with? He was doing good work! He saved lives!
"Only if you don't take the alternative. Think of it as a specialty transfer."
"What kind of specialty?" Scott wasn't keen on changing specialties. He enjoyed his job just fine. There were far worse jobs in the Army he could wind up with. All of them, he thought to himself. He had been very lucky to land this job by lottery. A very select group of individuals, even in his specialty were qualified as ARSs. All the other soldiers he went to specialty school with had ended up as the infantry' bitch or stuck in an underground office.
"I'm not qualified to explain that to you. Nor do I have the liberty to divulge this information to you. Not here anyway." He leafed through some papers, seeming to not notice how frustrated Scott was getting. "I will put you in contact with someone who can help you. Once you get back stateside, he will give you further guidance. But I must warn you. Do not tell anyone about your abilities. Not even your family. Do not use your abilities." His eyes turned a stern glare on Scott's, giving him pause. "I can tell you that if you take the alternative deal, you will not want for opportunities to use them."
They want to make me a weapon.
-SHADY-
Scott felt tears prickle at his eyes as he looked at the drawing on his notepad. It was so beautiful. It captured something spectacular and simple, the elegance of the symbol he'd been seeing in his dreams. This symbol, her name in an alien tongue he could barely understand. He wanted it on his body. A brief flash of having it tattooed on his body flashed before his mind so he would never be apart from it. But he knew mere stained skin would not suffice. He wanted to be close to it. To have it on his being so completely that he would not be able to tell where it ended and he began. He could see things on the page he hadn't drawn. Stars of a glowing galaxy, clouds of particles swirling around black holes and a deep darkness he could only describe as a peaceful nothing. A personality he felt was familiar yet entirely alien. He could feel great power beyond him. Beyond this earth and the stars he knew. Like an ant might feel before the heel of man. Great danger. He savored his shivering fear. It crawled through his spine and ended in an acrid taste in his mouth. He could feel a yearning pull at him, tugging at his thoughts and his thumping heart with a sharp pain. A yearning to be together, to know. He could not tell if was his or hers. "Yogorzabothl," he whispered affectionately. Like he might breath the name of a lover.
The black creature appeared next to him. A great mass of writhing flesh atop a quadrupedal form with bubbling eyes on what may have been feet and claws on the end of midnight tendrils. He didn't need to look to know where she was. He didn't need to look to know that her form should have been disgusting to his human sensibilities. But it wasn't. She was beautiful. The creature made no noise, it merely stood statue still next to its summoner. The creature could hear his mind whirl, the language still new and ugly to its ears. "Can I talk to you? Can you use your voice for me?" Scott's words seemed to fall deaf on the creature before him before it winked out of existence and before him was a young woman.
"I will, since you asked it." She was wearing a simple robe. Like that of a priestess. Black hair framed her oval shaped face. Her brown eyes were wide and still. Like she wasn't looking at anything. She was not conventionally beautiful. Almost a caricature of a woman. She had learned of this world through Scott. Their connection able to pass information. She had understood his world and he… could not understand hers.
"What are these things I am seeing?" He traced his fingers along the page lovingly like one might caress a child. Entranced by the things not there. "It's so… pretty," he finished lamely.
"It is the home of my native race. The edge of the Void. It is where you brought me from."
"Can you show me more? Please?" The images brought to his mind were like a drug. Both heightening his senses and closing his mind from his body's sensation. His head buzzed with awesome excitement. "W-Why can I summon you?" His breath was shaky and his words distracted.
"I could hear your cries through the void. You called for me with such power..."
"But how could I have known your name? How could I see your sign?"
"You held something in you. Something I do not recognize. It gave you a voice for me to hear, and you spoke to me through space and the void."
"But there are others as well, ones I can't truly see, or only a little bit."
"Oh yes, I am merely a small part of those beings outside your people's perception. You could not say their names or look upon their forms without going mad. Your people possess weak minds. They could not understand much of it without losing themselves.
But you… You have a strength your brothers do not. Visions of my home do not damage you."
"I'm don't know what they do to me." Scott gave a distant smile as the shapes in his mind conveyed the vast stary depths of the cosmos. His wonder was palpable. "Are you an angel?"
"In a sense. I have a spark of the Eldritch Truth. But the gods that spawned me are not what you think. The Blind Idiot God, the father of the multiverse, Azathoth, is not a benevolent creator. He his unaware of his creation. It is said that all of reality, The Dreamlands, the Void and the Cosmos are merely creations of his dreams and when he awakens, all will cease to exist. The other gods care not for the woes of the creatures in the universe. Some even delight in the suffering of lost worlds and extinction of races.
You humans are not a concern for the Gods. But if even their children turned to this Earth, there would be no evidence of its existence left."
"Should I worship them? Will that appease them? Will it help me?"
"No. No being that could hear you would care. If they did, they would take from you more than they would give. But worship is not the only way to protect your planet. I can tell that you fight for good on this world. For life and freedom. You want your world to be better don't you?"
"Yes. I want to be a hero. I want to protect those who can't protect themselves. I want to protect my family."
"I know. You were trying before I found you. But I can share my power with you in a sense. The place I found my Spark of the Eldritch, it is accessible from anywhere in the multiverse. If the conditions were right… you could perhaps connect to it. It is the source of my strength."
"How would I connect to this Spark?"
"You would need a blood sacrifice. And a complicated ritual with several components. The greater the sacrifice the greater the gift."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea…"
"It is an option. I know your people have an aversion to spilling blood in the name of sacrifice. But it is the simplest solution to your dilemma."
"But I can call upon you to help me right? If I'm in trouble?"
"Yes. As long as you can speak my name I will come to you."
"But, why? Why will you leave your home to visit this place and lend me your strength?"
"I can feel you. Through the Cosmos I can hear your thoughts. Humanity will face destruction. Whether it is sooner or later is yet to be determined. A race capable of such compassion and love is rare in this universe. Many consider these emotions primitive and weak. My native people did not feel that way. We embraced our brothers and sisters in companionship and trust. We loved. It was our downfall. My native race was killed by invaders because we were too weak to protect our own home. I want to feel that again. Compassion and trust for another. To defend a race that knows suffering and sacrifice."
"I… don't know what to say." Scott was drawn to her form. An ethereal beauty exuded from her. He was drawn to her in ways not entirely comparable to the way man wants woman but in a way that truly transcended his understanding. Like her beauty was unbound by her human form and lie in something that he could not sense with his human limitations.
"Then don't say anything. Do you still want to hear of my home?"
Scott nodded his head. "And maybe a bit more about these gods please?"
He listened as she spoke of the nature of the universe. She would not show him the terrible appearance of the Gods or their children, saying they were not fit for mortals to gaze upon. She showed him terrifying views of alien races and of beings that lurked in darkness of the Cosmos.
Abu Hassan and his torture seemed far away as Scott conversed with her through mind and mouth.
-SHADY-
The Army Times was allowed to do a limited write up of what happened to PFC, now SPC (a quick waiver for a promotion 3 months early) Hebert and Chief Warrant Officer Proctor. All they wrote about was that they were captured in the line of duty, losing one of their own, LT Watson. It went on to say that they bravely fought their way out of the enemy camp, sustaining injuries but ultimately triumphing. It was not an exaggeration to say that Scott saved Chief Proctor's life that day. For this he was awarded a Silver Star Medal for Valor. Scott held the paper before him as his father drove North back to Brockton Bay.
The victory over Abu Hassan's terrorist cell meant that US troops in Sudan were that much safer. Turns out that intelligence wasn't even tracking that Abu Hassan was operating in that part of Sudan. Scott sure wasn't. Nore did anybody even know that he was a cape. The camp was swept of any evidence and the information gathered there would help warfighters in the area for quite a while. New targets were identified and tasked, new places of interest, and even contacts operating within the United States.
The ceremony that awarded Scott the Silver Star was not long, or formal. It was held in the Battalion HQ building back in South Carolina. The only ones wearing their dress blues were Scott and his supervisors. His family was there too. The Army had given him a bonus to get them here to celebrate. The Brigade Commander and The Brigade Command Sergeant Major shook his hand, giving speeches about why heroism was a part of what every soldier should strive to be. In reality, there were only about 75 people there. Most were his coworkers and their families. He knew who everyone was. Almost. He was glad to leave there at any rate.
Scott should have been proud. But all he could think of was how Taylor cried when she saw him for the first time in six and a half months. How she was so scared of what she heard of what happened. Danny was proud. Scott could tell just by looking at him. He didn't have to say it. There was a flash of pride as Scott looked down at his chest, Combat Action Badge gleaming under the fluorescent lights right above his aviation wings and the medal dangling from the other side. This is why I joined. To make a difference. It was rue, one of Scott's greatest motivations for joining the military was to have pride in himself. To bring pride to his family and protect them. To be a part of something greater, a cause that would make the world better for his family. But now it seemed to fall flat. There was great danger here. What if Abu Hassan had found his family? Was any of it worth it?
While he was at the ceremony, He had been approached by a stranger in a brown suit. His name was Mr. Jackson. He had handed Scott a phone number with instructions to call him sometime over his leave in Brockton Bay. It was about his parahuman abilities and what it meant for his military career. He said that they would set up a meeting in Brockton Bay to discuss his career. From what the CI investigator had told him, it would end one of two ways: 1, Scott's termination of service or 2, Scott's reassignment to a position that would allow him to use his abilities. It could be good or bad, Scott couldn't tell.
Scott handed the paper back to Taylor, who accepted it. "So how much of this is true?" Taylor was smart enough to know that the true details of what happened could not be divulged nor could he tell her in any definitive terms. He wished, not for the first time, that he could tell her just everything. He had been sorely tempted before, but now more than ever.
"Some of it. They didn't technically lie, so much as omitted the truth a little bit. But really it's par for the course for these kinds of journalists."
"I figured as much. They wanted to show that they had heroes in their ranks but nothing is truly that simple. But what do you want to do once we get home? I made sure Dad didn't convert your room into a closet so, you're welcome."
"I mean, just want to spend some time with you guys really. I want to catch up on how you all've been. Get some ice cream or hot chocolate. I don't think I can describe how much it means for me to have you here with me. It… I can't be more grateful."
"Yeah well we missed you too." Danny could hear her smile through her voice.
Danny was very pleased with how Taylor seemed to be bouncing back from what had happened to her in January. How she found a bit of happiness through her brother. He still hadn't told Scott about the incedent...
-STAYSHADY-
It was a cold February day in Brocton Bay. Danny was relaying what had happened earlier that month to Scott.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" Scott seemed to be in a trance. Whoever had hurt his baby sister would pay. His anger was a calm one. Icy.
"You had your own shit going on! Taylor could barely take it when she heard about what happened to you. I didn't know what to do."
Well there's a fucking first, Scott thought to himself. "What else can you tell me about what happened?" He needed information. Who was responsible? Why? What would hurt them?
"I don't know much. She won't talk to me." The pain showed through his eyes. He was deeply hurt that Taylor didn't trust him. That he was failing her as a father.
Scott went to Taylor's room and knocked on the door.
"Come in," Taylor was working on what Scott thought was most likely homework. The way she quickly covered what she was writing was a little suspicious but he pressed on.
"Taylor, I'm gonna ask you something and I want you to be honest with me." Scott could see her tense up. Her eyes darting around the room, not looking at him. "Why didn't you tell me what happened? Why didn't you tell me that you went to the hospital?"
"Because you were dealing with your own stuff at the time! I know those bandages on your hands aren't from papercuts!"
"I am dealing with stuff. And so are you! If I can't help you with what's going on, what use am I? I want to help you more than anything, but I can't do that if you don't tell me!"
"There's nothing you could have done! Nothing would have changed had I told you. You wouldn't be better and I wouldn't be better."
"That's not true, Taylor-"
"And you're one to talk! You haven't told us what happened to you! You don't tell us anything! You're never even around! You left me! Why should I have to share with you shit that you wouldn't tell me?"
"It's not like that!" Scott's found his anger rising and squashed it. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you when you needed it. But, please, I just want to help. I want to know what's going on with my sister. I want to help you, even if it just means I sit here and listen to you."
"I don't need your help…" Her protests were weaker, less angry and more sad.
"I don't care. Please just tell me. I can tell it's not something small."
"..."
Scott pulled the bandage off of his left hand, showing Taylor the ugly half-healed wound beneath. "This was done with a corkscrew. He also did it to my legs. He waterboarded me day after day. He would have executed me had I not escaped. He was going to film it for propaganda. I killed him and ran." Scott was going out on a limb here. Maybe if he told her something, she would tell him? It was a little manipulative, but Scott was getting frustrated fast.
"Why are you telling me that stuff?" she was shocked and confused. He wasn't supposed to talk about this stuff, right?
"Because I want to show you that you're not alone in your pain. That I trust you with my pain. Please trust me with yours?" Scott looked pleadingly into Taylor's eyes and seemed to lose a bit of anger for more sadness.
"Okay…" Her voice was shaky and soft. Eyes wet with unshed tears.
-STAYSHADY-
While talking about her problems was painful and unpleasant, Taylor had seemed quite a bit better after it was all said and done. Scott had taken everything he learned and tried to come up with an answer to her problem. Not that she knew what he was doing of course.
A solution was not presenting itself to Scott immediately. Scott told his father what he had heard from Taylor. It was grim stuff. Scott felt like he had failed her. And in a way he did. He truly did leave a few short months after their mother's death. He abandoned her. These thoughts did nothing to quell his anger at the girls responsible for Taylor's torment. He would at the very least find a way to make them stop.
Which leads to Scott sitting at his old desk with his personal computer. He was debating the risks of using some collection equipment that was technically illegal to use on US citizens. All he needed was an MSISDN (phone number) and he could see where the target went, who they talked to, what kind of data was stored on the device (even 'deleted' data) and what they were texting. It was a kind of Bluetooth device that could essentially rip an entire phone's data in 20 minutes from up to a mile away. You could even record phone calls if you left the device on and were in range. The device was very difficult to get on the civilian market (illegal), but thankfully Scott had the expertise to build one. He decided it didn't matter. He was not likely to be caught at any rate.
Sophia Hess, Emma Barnes, and Madison Clements. Their phone numbers were easy enough to acquire. The initial collection was as simple as hanging out at the coffee shop 4 blocks away from the school and placing the equipment in his backpack as it did its thing. And lo and behold they were using 'em! What Scott found was evidence of a systematic criminal bullying campaign right there planned out in plain text message form. Even a 'big surprise' for after winter break. And photographs of what they did to Taylor's locker! How dumb were these girls? Dumb shitbags. Scott wasn't sure what he could reasonably do with this evidence. He couldn't waltz into the police station with a hard drive of illegally acquired 'evidence' that wasn't even permissable in court. But it was evidence that could not be ignored if the right people found it. I just had to find someone who would listen. Who held power over the girls. It was clear that Hess was the ring leader. So he began tracking her movements through the city. He found that she visited the Brockton Bay PRT building too often to be a coincidence.
He found that she had a second phone. And ensnaring it through bluetooth was a bit more tricky. He had to manipulate the first phone to use its bluetooth to connect to the second to transfer that phone's selectors. What he got was an encrypted IMSI, IMEI, Ki, and MSISDN. Now why the fuck would a teenager have a phone so heavily encrypted? So Scott tried time and time again to crack the encryption but was ultimately unsuccessful. He may have been able to crack it if he had had some help, but ultimately it was not something he could afford to ask for help with. However, he did find that the style of encryption matched one he had encountered during training before. One that involved the Columbia Protectorate. So there! Some possible proof that she was a member of the Protectorate, or more probably the Wards.
From the pictures of the Wards online he ascertained that one 'Shadow Stalker' was an eerie match for the body type of Sophia Hess. But he couldn't be sure. He needed more evidence.
-SHADY-
"You love your sister dearly," Yogorzabothl was standing close by Scott watching as he looked through his tablet at where Hess was currently located. She was out on the streets of Brockton Bay in the middle of the night. It could mean a few things. She could be a thug for one of the local gangs or she could be on patrol with the Wards. If he could get there, he would know definitively how best to deal with her. Ie, if he should anonymously send the evidence he had to the PRT. They would at least take a closer look at one of their own.
"I do. I would do anything for her." As they approached Hess' location, Scott pulled a gas mask over his face to hide his features and Yogorzabothl flitted to her dog-like form and hid in the shadows, almost melding into them.
There! Hess was standing on the rooftop of a building in downtown Brockton Bay. right in broad … moonlight... dressed as Shadow Stalker! Scott felt a rush of excitement at his discovery. This will make the next bit easier. He immediately pulled up the pre-written email and attached documents on his tablet and sent it with the tap of a finger. He had carefully disguised his IP address and MAC address, with techniques that should not be distributed to the PRT unless someone was breaking the rules… well, more than he was. With any luck, Something would be done.
-SHADY-
A/N
So work has been pretty scarce around the holidays this year so I've been putting my disgusting brain child to paper because I don't have a better use of my time. Leave a review and tell me what you think. I hope you enjoy!- Max
