Miss Militia was a realistic sort. A dusky skinned patriot, she knew full well the depravities that her adopted country could stoop to. Given all that, she still felt hope for their future. A land that could reach for greatness, if only the people within it were given the chance.
She steadied her power, sighting along the barrel of her manifested rifle. One more shot, and the last of the five men fell unconscious from the tranq dart she had propelled directly into his chest.
"Last one's down," she relayed across the comms.
"Awwwwww, really? Couldn't leave even one for me?" Assault whined through the bud in her ear.
She loved the big lug, but she really would appreciate when Battery got back from her conference in Boston. Assault was amusing to be around, but he had a tendency to slowly and surely grate on the nerves of anyone he tended to be in the general vicinity of. She once had suggested it to be a slight rank one master effect, a choice which she had immediately regretted. Armsmaster was a thorough individual, but she wished he retained the ability to discern a joke.
"Yes," she retorted. "Can you secure them? I'll check the wreck to see if our two joyriders survived the crash."
"On it," Assault crowed, a blur of movement as he 'bounced' past Miss Militia and off the side of the building she had been perched on. Once he reached ground level, she could see him coming up alongside the softly sleeping group. Tinkertech 'zipties' slipped around each mans wrists, holding them behind their backs.
Miss Militia made her way to the ground -slower and more carefully than Assaults madcap descent, changing her rifle into a grappling gun before once more changing it back into a knife.- and cautiously made her way over to the ruined bulk of the upturned truck. She had seen the vehicle flip, too far to help and with Assault still in transit she was near helpless to do anything.
The men in the trailing cars had shot out the trucks rear tires, resulting in its upheaval, She had seen the driver flung from the wreck, a green tinged missle that went flying into a nearby alley. That still left the other occupant according to the anonymous call in. A person who had been run off a sidewalk said they had seen the green skinned case 53 in the drivers seat, with a young girl down between her legs to work the pedals.
Coming up on the upturned truck, she quickly liberated the unconscious girl from its' crumpled form. There was little worry about the truck exploding, and thankfully the child didn't appear to be too terribly injured. A bump on her head, perhaps a concussion. Really, it was absolutely amazing that she wasn't injured beyond a couple scrapes and bruises.
The cape -if she didn't have a brute rating- couldn't possibly be so lucky.
She lay down the girl as comfortably as she could make her, her coat bundled up beneath her head to form a makeshift pillow.
"Assault!" She called out, gaining his attention, "Stay with the girl while I check on the cape. She seems to be in good shape, just sleeping."
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"Got it!" He let out in a chirpy tone whilst giving her a goofy thumbs up.
She stood up, making her way to the alley beyond. What she found there was not what she had been expecting. Instead of the green skinned cape, she found a boy. A teenager, somewhere between the ages of fourteen and sixteen, sprawled out among the trash as he sat up and painfully clutched at his forehead.
"Excuse me, are you alrig-" she started, flinching at a clatter of sound on the catwalks above. Peering up she saw a flash of movement, disappearing over the lip of the closest roof. "Excuse me," she muttered, changing her power once more into a grappling gun. A sharp retort of compressed air, and she hastily made her way to the roof above. There was nothing to be seen, the cape having made good her escape.
A bit worrying, especially regarding the fact that she saw fit to leave the young girl on her own without even checking to see if she was alright.
She made her way back to street level, pausing to see if the teenager needed any assistance. He seemed slightly familiar, but she couldn't immediately recall...
Ah yes. Gregory Damascus Veder. Online handle 'VoidCowboy'. Add or remove a few 'x's', dependent on if Tin Mother had banned another one of his paranoia spewing accounts. Investigated on suspicion of being either connected to, or being the real life identity of 'The Wrangler'. Based off corresponding assumptions shared by VoidCowboy on PHO, a team had been authorized to investigate the minor, scanning him for evidence of a Corona Pollentia and Corona Gemma. Unfortunately it was discovered that while Veder held a Corona Pollentia, he had not as of yet generated a Corona Gemma. He was not a parahuman, and as such could not possibly be the cape known as The Wrangler.
A slight application of a tinkertech drug erased the previous six hours of his and his mothers memory, leaving neither the wiser. Not harm, no foul.
The young man appeared to be unharmed, nursing what he claimed to be a 'slight bump' on his forehead. His pupils weren't dilated, so she was sure he didn't have a concussion. Beyond the rather useless testimonial of 'she ran right past me', she had no further use for him. He had asked if the other girl was unharmed, noting that he recognized her.
Dinah Alcott, Niece to the mayor. This correlated to the report of finding her parents knocked out at a local restaurant. Troublesome. It was odd that the lad had recognized her, But VoidCowboy was well known for dumpster diving through the depths of the Internet. Who knew what useless information he had filled his head up with.
Eventually a PRT van arrived, ten entire minutes before the ambulance managed to arrive.It was at this poin that the Protectorate took full responsibility on the matter. Upon questioning young Dinah Alcott after she had awoken, it was discovered that the girl was in fact a parahuman herself.
It had gone from the relatively simple case of a parahuman joyriding in a stolen vehicle, to said parahuman fleeing from assailants with tinkertech weapons, to said group of assailants attempting to murder a young duo of parahumans.
Dinah claimed she hadn't met the green parahuman before today, but she was rather frazzled. Miss Militia made a note to have Vista question her once more once they got back to HQ. Perhaps a face closer to her own age would help her unwind and feel more comfortable.
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Dinah peered out the window, looking on as the city around them whipped by.
The numbers had changed.
What once had been painfully low, now gave slightly more enthusiastic results.
'Will I survive the year if I join the Wards?'
'Seventy Three Point oh Nine.'
Whatever had happened this day had changed the numbers. It had given her a chance.
She idly scratched at her hand, stopping once she felt something unfamiliar. Lying just beneath the gloves she still wore, looted from the trucks glovebox. She peeled back the glove on her right hand, restraining a gasp as she peered down at her palm.
Looking back up at her rested a shallow dome of polished blue crystal.
The sapphires triangular facet winked in the light, glimmering with an inner icyness.