League2
It had been simple enough. Easy to ignore for most people.
A gasp, a muffled sob, and it was miles away.
Batgirl and Iron Maiden had noticed Supergirl twitching for several minutes but didn't ask. Superhuman senses could be both blessing and curse, and they knew that her powers were increasing in scope and strength every day as she drank in solar radiation.
Mother had told them not to interfere. That she wanted them to be safe. That if their existence was known, and their connection to her was known, the PRT and other forces would try to take them from her. To get control of them, or to kill them for being a threat they couldn't control.
Taylor had some serious issues with authority. Toni fully supported those views, having memories of Tony Stark and various groups trying to get control of his technology.
"Kara. Kara! KARA! Don't..." tried Barbara/Batgirl as she noticed the clenched fists and trembling.
Too late. The backyard spot she'd been sunning herself in was now completely clear of one Kara Zor-el Hebert.
(Crack!) went the sound barrier uncomfortably close.
"Oh shit," said Toni at the same time as Barbara quickly went for her bike.
Toni growled something else as she ran towards the go cart "cockpit" that was attached to something that was absolutely not a go cart.
* Winslow *
(BOOM!) A section of football field now had a crater in it, causing a number of people to stop watching the spectacle of a weird loner girl getting bullied. They glanced in that direction, saw the blonde junior-high-aged girl stalking forward, and the plume of dust from her landing. It being an area with parahumans, those paying attention found reasons to get the heck out of the direct path.
More phones came out though, because this was an indication that something was going to happen.
Teeth and fists clenched, her posture one of incipient and overwhelming violence, leaving footprints in the field and then in the concrete as she stalked forward - everyone paying attention to something other than the shaving of Taylor Hebert was pretty sure they didn't want to be very close to what was about to happen.
"Well, now when you whore yourself out to the bums you won't have to worry about any fleas or cooties getting in your hair," said Emma Barnes, stepping back to inspect her work.
Sophia noted there was a sudden gap in the ring of onlookers, that all the onlookers were backing away, and glanced in the direction of least crowd. Just some kid who was apparently pissed off. "Hey, kid. Get lost or you're nexWAAAAAGH?!"
Sophia Hess wasn't light. That some little twelve-year-old girl had just grabbed her and slung her into an outbuilding hard enough that she was looking at all the pretty little sparklies was quickly noted by Madison Clements.
"WhaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Madison could appreciate that she'd just been tossed onto the roof of the sports equipment storage building. It meant that the little girl that was now hovering above the ground and glaring at the third member of the Trio was no longer paying attention to her. This was deemed a good thing.
Taylor was on the ground, her hair scattered about on the ground, stubble showing all over her skull with a couple of spots bleeding from inexpert use of the shaver still held in the hand of one Emma Barnes.
Emma Barnes stared at the little girl, finally having pulled her attention from the girl on the ground. "What?"
"You. Hurt. Her."
"If you lay a finger on me, I'll sue you so hard-"
(SLAP!)
Emma Barnes literally spun around from the impact.
(SLAP!)
Another hit. Another spin.
(SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP!)
Feeling severely rattled, as the dizziness retreated enough to notice that she was being held up by a hand on her collar, Emma Barnes began paying very close attention to the next set of words. She was aware that a couple of minutes had passed while her assailant had waited for her to recover.
"I. Don't. Care. The law is to protect everyone. Not just those who know a lawyer. You don't get to hurt her. Not any-" Sudden agony caused the blonde to release Emma.
A crossbow bolt was sticking out of the little blonde girl.
* PRT ENE HQ *
"She just keeps digging herself in deeper and deeper, doesn't she?" asked Assault.
"All those phones. And nobody clued in that this was going on?" asked Director Piggot. "Anything that would give us a clue before things got to this stage?"
"Agent Simmons should have been looking for such things using various keywords as she manages three of the Wards," offered Deputy Director Renick. "Stalker, Vista, and Kid Win."
"Tell me her work files are being gone over and that she hasn't been playing Galaga or something," said Director Piggot.
"We're looking into it," promised Renick.
* Winslow High School *
She was hurt in a physical sense. That hadn't happened very often and it had usually been the result of her trying to do something inadvisable. The more time that went by, the stronger she'd been getting. Not emotional pain, but the physical kind had been getting rarer and rarer as time went on.
Pulling the crossbow bolt out from where it had phased through her chest allowed her some relief. Then the second bolt slammed home and everything started going dark.
She'd been shot in the head. This wasn't right. This wasn't how her story was supposed to end. Her mama was hurt and she couldn't help. She was dying here on the cement. "I'm sorry, Mama. You were right. I'm..."
* Miss Militia *
Gravel had gone flying as she'd skidded her motorcycle to a halt, but by the time the automatic shut-down had begun she was already a good thirty feet up the lawn.
She was aware of a heavily-augmented dirtbike and some thruster-driven half-built vehicle coming up behind her, but most of her attention was on Shadow Stalker standing on a roof with her crossbow pointed at something concealed by one building.
As soon as she was in range, her power shifted to a beanbag shotgun and fired.
(click-BOOM!)
Beanbag ammo was not very accurate, and she'd been aiming automatically for center-of-mass. That this was a headshot was perfectly acceptable under the circumstances.
"WHAT THE HELL?!" yelled Shadow Stalker, who was just wearing her mask and was otherwise wearing the clothes she'd arrived in school in.
(click-BOOM!)
Another beanbag slammed into Shadow Stalker's head hard enough this time that she went down and stayed down.
For some reason the crowd that had gathered were now scattering. Almost like they had registered that someone heavily armed and equally heavily angry was bearing down upon them.
In the now-cleared space, a recently-shaved young girl was trying to pull a crossbow quarrel out of someone's head.
"You really shouldn't..." Miss Militia paused as a little girl dressed in black and gray was now standing between her and the two on the ground.
"Nonononono," called out the shorn girl, cradling the blonde. "No. You don't get to leave me. No no no."
A redhead got up. "Sue. Sue all you."
(PUNCH!)
A redhead went down.
"Batgirl, isn't it?" asked Miss Militia.
"My hand slipped," explained Batgirl.
"Excuse me, is that your drone?" asked Toni.
"What drone?" asked Miss Militia.
"The drone that's using a pretty darn sophisticated encryption system but the beam's loose enough that I'm getting some feedback on a couple of frequencies," said Toni. "I take it you're streaming video?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Miss Militia.
Supergirl groaned.
"What the hell happened?" groaned Shadow Stalker as she slowly got back up.
(click-BOOM!)
"Nice shot," said Toni.
PRT Transports began arriving, driving up at speed and not paying much attention to what was in the way.
"MY BIKE!" yelled Batgirl.
At which point drug darts started hitting various girls.
* PRT ENE HQ, two hours later *
"I did it. Not proud of it. Dislike this intensely. But I followed orders. I WILL be filing an official protest."
"Noted, Miss Militia. That is within your rights."
"Why are we further antagonizing this girl by locking her creations away?"
"She is a loose cannon who will never trust us, has cause to actively dislike the PRT in general, and creates superpowered minions. She's an S-Class threat just from the observed power levels of 'Supergirl' not to mention the possibilities of the other two if they're allowed to progress in developing their abilities." Director Piggot looked the three capes over. "The situation in Brockton Bay is a powder keg and there are way too many people running around with matches."
"Director," said Armsmaster, "I can begin analyzing the tech brought by Miss Stark. Batgirl's bike however, is mangled beyond repair. By having a five-ton transport run over it. Then backed up over it when leaving the scene."
"This whole situation is a mess," admitted Director Piggot. "Honestly, I would have preferred a slow recruitment of the capes with warning Leaguer about the various PR problems she'd be facing. Unfortunately, the details of Leaguer and her minion-daughters is already out and being speculated on. Fortunately, we do have someone responsible for the whole deal going into the crapper whom we can feed to the wolves. It even has the benefit of being true."
"Ah, I see," said Armsmaster.
Director Piggot nodded. "It's all Shadow Stalker's fault."
* PRT ENE HQ *
It was inevitable. Someone, for whatever reason, left a bottle of beer in Taylor Hebert's cell.
That it happened the first day she was in there was a bit more unexpected.
That cameras had mysteriously malfunctioned, people were coincidentally elsewhere, and only Miss Militia checking in because "she had a feeling" caused people to realize something was up before it all went down.
As it was, a bored Taylor Hebert took a swig while Miss Militia was still trying to convince the guards that Someone Done Goofed Up and they needed to stop things now.
"Where'd that door come from?" asked Miss Militia, aware that Armsmaster was now arguing with the same guards who had their orders.
Stupid orders, but orders just the same.
"Miss Militia, report," came from her headset. Director Piggot sounded a bit upset for some reason.
Armsmaster just pushed past the guards at this point. "Recording. Evidence of extradimensional space opened up by Hebert's power. Door is similar in construction to other doors on this level, just without the identifier codes stenciled on the outside. Door is free-standing without visible support. Taylor Hebert is visibly staggering after drinking... about a half-inch of a Bud Light?"
"Well, they said she was a lightweight," muttered Miss Militia before speaking a bit louder. "Miss Hebert. Stop where you are!"
"Goss to fix pepple," slurred Taylor Hebert as she entered a room.
"What did she say?" asked Director Piggot.
"She said something about fixing people," said Miss Militia, entering and then looking around. "Okay. This is different."
"Door leads to about ten feet of corridor and then expands to a full room. Irregular round. Looks to be thirty feet diameter, twelve and a half feet in height," read off Armsmaster as he looked around. "Central pit filled with reddish fluid. Central column supporting articulated robot arms. Taylor Hebert is accessing a control panel. Should I take her down?"
"Record and Observe, this way we at least get data on what she's doing. We can enact bio-containment procedures if it is needed," answered Director Piggot.
"Searching," said a female voice that was either mechanical or heavily auto-tuned. "Thirteen potential targets in ten realities that fit the desired search parameters."
"Who was that?" asked Director Piggot.
"The complex apparently, some sort of factory crossed with Hollywood's idea of a mad scientist lab," answered Miss Militia. "There's even a couple of bubbling beakers."
"Role: Healer," said the complex. "Selection made. Source DNA acquired. Cloning process started."
"You're recording this?" asked Miss Militia as a circular extension from the central column slowly built a skeleton. Then organs and connective tissues. Bit by bit a form was put together with another machine-arm occasionally beaming energy into the figure. Flesh filled out.
"Why does she have cat ears and a tail?" asked Miss Militia.
The circular-ending arm dipped the partly completed figure into the red bubbling fluid, then retracted empty to a resting position near its column.
"Clothing extruded and provided. Memories downloaded. Skills set. Ensoulment to occur in three, two, one," said the complex.
"What?" asked Miss Militia, thinking implications.
A girl of approximately twelve years age got up out of the pit, the red fluid draining off of her quickly. She looked around, eyed both of the costumed adults, then went around the pool to get to where Taylor had just collapsed.
"It is fine, Mother, I am here. You shall recover."
"Who are you?" asked Miss Militia, hoping that things would proceed a bit easier with a name. She'd worry about various implications and various other aspects later, thank you.
The catgirl's ears flicked, then she stood tall and proud. Except that she was quite short actually. She turned and stared into Miss Militia's eyes with brilliant blue-green eyes. "I am Y'shtola Rhul, also called Master Matoya by some, or Shtola of the Jaguar Tribe to others. Trifle not with me."