Recuperating
by Christian O'Kane

   For Misha the debriefing seemed to last forever. He found himself being asked about even the smallest details of the fight. It did not help that his whole body hurt and he desperately needed several days rest to heal properly. The nanites could heal his body but even they had limits. Even if they were loath to admit it.  Having been thrown thirty feet by a rocket attack Misha had a huge number of broken bones and torn and bruised flesh.

   Misha stepped off the teleport pad and down onto the floor. He was grateful that he had finally convinced the nanites to allow at least 1 teleport in the base.  The nanites were good but more than a little paranoid about any threats. Teleporting into the base meant two DNA scans and no less than 7 codes each of which was 22 characters long. Still it was well worth the effort as it meant 1 minute entering codes instead of a 4 hour long flight. Just a step onto the teleport pad on the army base in New Mexico and step off the pad in Paragon city, Rhode Island. Then it was a brief elevator ride up to the tower and he was home. 

   There was no better sight then home. He simply stripped out of his gear and left it all in a large pile by the door, too tired to do more than brush off the worst of the dirt and grime. A thorough cleaning and repair would have to wait till later when he had rested up. His bow and quiver were placed on a table but the hand and stun grenades were taken to the armory and placed in the appropriate containers. Misha was always careful about explosives.

   "Have you been investigating Strela?" Misha asked silently as he made his way down stairs.

   "Researching her now," The nanites answered. "Basic facts; Height 5' 4" tall weight 156 pounds. Hair red with blue highlights. Eye color blue. There are four arrest warrants for her in the U.S. and another six in Rogues Isles. She has robbed several banks in Kings row and Atlas park. She also is believed to have been involved in a pharmaceutical plant break in last year.

   "That's all about the villain, what about the person?" Misha asked. He wandered over to a corner where a nice reclining chair and large TV waited. "Any personal details?"

   "No real information," the nanites answered. "Her secret identity is just that; secret." 

   "She showed considerable skill with a bow," Misha commented. The fox settled into the chair. Its soft cushions felt wonderful against his bruised body. "Probably competed in events. She was at least Olympic level."

   "That narrows the search but still no one matches the criteria exactly."

   "Not surprising as she has probably altered her looks. Too bad we were not able to get a decent DNA sample."

   "Next time," Misha said softly. His weariness was getting the better of him and he started to drift off to sleep.

   "Next time?"

   "Of course they'll be a next time," the fox said. "Don't you watch cartoons or read the comic books? A good villain ALWAYS returns in a later issue."

   "You must really be tired to talk like that."

   Misha gave a small yip of laughter. "I am tired. Her name is Strela, that's Russian for arrow. Try Russian archers or people from what used to be the Soviet Union."

   "Good call. Svetlana Malenchinsky. There is a 96.5% probability that this is her. She was disqualified from the World games 3  years ago when it was discovered that she was a mutant."

   "Why? Mutants are allowed in their own category," Misha asked.

   "She wasn't entered in the Supers category."

   "Could her mutant powers have manifested because of the stress of the games?" the super asked. He took a sip of iced tea enjoying the cold liquid going down his throat.

   "No. Examination by experts showed she had manifested them almost from birth."

   "She was cheating! Shame, since she would have probably won anyway."

   "Some people make mistakes," Misha commented calmly.

   "Are you defending her?"

   "I'm just saying that we all make mistakes," Misha countered. "What about outside of sports? She had a lot of skills you don't get practicing for sports."

   "Researching. Wow, this is impressive. She is the Great granddaughter of Iryna Alexandrov a Russian sniper from world war two with an astounding 347 kills."

   "Do you think Great Grandma passed along some secrets to her?" Misha asked.

   "Probably. He mother was also a sniper in the soviet army with a very long military record. She served four tours in Afghanistan!"

   "Now THIS is interesting. Part of Svetlana's records are sealed with a very efficient code and several powerful firewalls."

   "And what does that mean?" the fox asked and nibbled on a large, chocolate chip cookie.

   "Hard to tell. But she was already an excellent sniper at the time. Also she was not drafted into the army like is usual. She volunteered. Her basic training was standard it seems. Svetlana graduated at the top of her class even though she was the only woman in it. She was then assigned to A company, 1st motorized battalion, 423rd Guards regiment, 2nd Guards Motorized rifle division."

   "That is impressive," the super commented. "And extremely rare. Russian combat units were almost all male at the time. Still are."

   "Here we are! I found her referenced in a combat report for the 6th Shock army. She served in Chechnya for four years. The report states she had 103 confirmed kills at the time."

   "After that she disappears for seven years. The only clue is a travel order telling mentioning that she was assigned  to something called Project 1277. Could that be a commando group like the Spetsnaz?"

   "No," Misha answered with a shake of the head. "The records would list her as being assigned to some bland sounding unit like Planning Detachment 247."

   "Good point. She is not on any of the rosters we can access so it's not one of the public super groups."

   "It could be one of the black super teams," Misha said. "One operating outside the law. That's not good."

   "Oh?"

   "Military run super teams have military discipline and a clear chain of command," Misha explained. "Even the most fanatic of teams has clear rules and are held accountable for all their actions. The public super teams always have the media and the government examining their every move. That tends to keep them honest. But the covert ones tend to get nasty. They answer to no one and ignore the law. All sorts of nasty things happen where collateral damage and innocent deaths are not a worry."

   "The US. had quite a few such teams until the protests against the Might for Right act in 1967 brought the abuses to light. That saw the end of a lot of careers."

   "The Russians never stopped using those Black teams," Misha explained. "Some of the worst crimes committed in Afghanistan and Chechnya were done by such teams."

   We will need to move carefully with this. If we break into those records the wrong way it would attract far too much attention to ourselves as a lot of those nasty  teams are still active."

   "How long was she in that project?"

   "Uncertain but the next record we have is 7 years later when she was disqualified from the world games.

    "I do have an after action report from a NATO team that mentions a female archer that is unidentified. But there is not enough information to confirm it is her."

   "You're working with Special Command on this?" Misha asked. "They might have more information on that."

   "Of course!"

   "ATTENTION!" a voice intruded, coming over the police band radio that Misha and the nanites monitored at all times. "This is the PPD Emergency command center with a city wide call to all Supers. Babbage is up in Skyway city."

   "This is Captain Ridgeway calling Misha, are you available?" This voice was on a private channel and intended for Misha alone. "They need your help."

   Misha sat up straight, now fully awake. He cursed several times over the channel. "I'm here. Are you sure you need my help?"

   "What?" came the captains irate voice. "Are you available or not?"

   "No, you are still only at 75% strength," the nanites commented to him. And your gravetic systems are still only at 12% strength. So no flying for you."

   "We are short of people and I can't spend all night waiting while you decide," the captain snapped.

   Misha let out a deep sigh and slowly stood up. "I'm coming," he answered and cursed as he felt a sharp pain along his back where he had slammed into a wall the day before. "But it will take me a while to get there."

   "Are you up to this? I am looking for more people."

   "No!"

   "Yes," Misha answered. "I took an oath to protect and serve all the time. not just when I felt like it. Where is he?"

   "Skyway city district, 168 yards north of the Green line's Lost street station."

   "Green line," Misha said to himself. "I'll be there ASAP."

*********************

   Misha stood still for a moment and surveyed the area around him. He was standing in a small alley almost two blocks from the train station that was his home and base. Like all good super hero bases the one Misha and Stealth used had a half dozen secret entrances and exits. The fox turned and ran up the alley and into a main street. Then he turned left and started running up the block. The super easily wove through traffic easily leaping over some cars and dodging the larger trucks.

   Up ahead a massive structure of steel and metal stretched over the road. He slowed to a walk and made his way to the steps that led upward to the station. The Paragon city Transit Authority ran and maintained an extensive monorail network. New York city has its famous subway and Paragon city has it's monorail network.

   This is a bad idea. You are simply not up to full status."

   "This is not an option," Misha answered the nanites. "They need me."

   "There are others."

   In the small lobby on the side walls were what looked like ATM machines. Misha walked past the ticket machines without stopping. Up ahead was a set of turnstiles that controlled access to the trains. From a pocket on his belt Misha produced the small little plastic ID card that declared him to be a registered Super hero. He ran the card thru the card reader on the turnstile and was rewarded with a chime. The super stepped through the turnstile without paying. One of the perks of being a hero. A few steps took him to the platform which contained a number of people but no train. Just the single, empty concrete rail that the trains ran on.

   "How many people have they got so far?" Misha asked.

   "Ten so far," was the nanites answer. "We are unable to contact Stealth."

   "He's probably asleep."

   "Mommy!" a small voice cried out suddenly. "Look at the cute foxy!"

   Misha turned to the voice and saw a young woman herding three little girls. All four were looking at him. The smallest of the girls had to be no more than two and seemed to be all curls and smiles. She was pointing at him energetically. "Foxy! Foxy! Foxy!"

   His tail wagged and he gave the kids a wave of the hand. "Hello!" he said unsure of what else to say or do.

With a whoosh and a hum a large plastic and metal train rolled into the station. It slid to a halt and the doors opened up.

"Please watch your step," a pleasant voice warned him. "Mind the gap between the train and the platform.

   The Super fox stepped into the car and sat down in one of the plastic seats that lined the side of the automated monorail car. there was a soft chime. "Beware the closing doors!" the automated voice said as the doors slid shut.

   He was very self conscious of the other passengers looking at him. All supers were supposed to be able to fly or run at supersonic speeds and not have to use the transit system. But it made sense until his flying systems were repaired. Still he tried to act casual and hoped that his station would come quickly.

********************

   As soon as the doors opened Misha could tell he was in the right place. Smoke tinged with the smell of burning wood and plastic clogged his sensitive nose. His ears were filled with the sounds of explosions, crackling flames and the screams of people in fear. The vulpine superhero raced from the train and vaulted over the railing, dropping the ten feet to the ground below.

   He was standing in the small open plaza that was below the elevated station. In quiet times this was a crowded place, filled with all manner of people walking and talking and venders selling everything from magazines to coffee and bagels. The place was empty now but an overturned vendors cart told him it had recently been occupied.

   Misha leapt over the cart and around a garbage can and vaulted over the chain link fence at one corner of the plaza and dropped twenty feet to the sidewalk below. The fox hit the sidewalk with a solid thump that sent a jolt through his whole body. Across the street was a long, low concrete warehouse surrounded by a parking lot and a fence. Building, fence and lot were the scene of chaos. The fence had been torn up and the warehouse was burning. Misha caught his first sight of Babbage.

   Babbage stood over 20 feet tall and at least 5 tons of metal. The robot was a patchwork of mismatched parts of all sizes and shapes. Gears and levers were attached seemingly randomly spinning and whirring about. Massive claws capable of crushing a truck were attached to arms far too thin to support the weight. Two huge feet each a slab of bronze weighting half a ton shattered the concrete of the parking lot with each step. It was covered with bronze that was patched and corroded all over. It looked like some badly made, monstrous, clockwork toy. Which in a sense it was. All that was missing was the large winding key sticking out of the back. Bolts of electricity danced along Babbage's skin lancing out suddenly at anyone that got too close.

   "Commencing detailed scan of the target and adjoining subjects."

   The monster moved with amazing speed for something so large lunging and swinging at the crowd of superheroes that surrounded it. He recognized several of the supers but most were only known from TV or intelligence reports. Projected directly onto Misha's eyesight by the nanites was the identification of every super. With a thought he pushed that to the background and concentrated on Babbage. In moments large amounts of data was scrolling across his view giving all sorts of information. Exact dimensions; height, weight, width and reach of all the limbs, power levels, heat levels, detected weapons and defenses, suspected ones. Armor thickness. Known and suspected weaknesses. Some of the information was blinking in red.

   "Not possible! That is physically impossible. How can that thing be moving? The power to weight ratio is absurdly out of balance. The arms are too thin! The legs should not be able to carry that much weight so fast."

   "Those power readings must be wrong! It cannot be generating bolts of electricity and powering all the systems with a power plant that small."

   "Beware Misha, the electricity it is producing is at lethal levels."

   "You're late!" someone shouted.

   The fox turned to find himself looking at a tall, thin female dressed head to toe in white tights and her face covered with a bright pink scarf hiding all features. Her long feline tail lashed back and forth repeatedly in agitation.

   Misha did not speak but held up his right hand with the middle finger extended. Then he drew an arrow from his quiver and nocked his bow. He took aim at Babbage and loosed the arrow.

   Quickly Misha was caught up in the fight nocking and loosing arrows as quickly as possible. Standing next to him was a tall man wearing cowboy boots, jeans, flannel shirt and a wide brimmed cowboy hat. He looked like something out of an old western movie right down to the spurs on his boots and the six shooters in his hands.  The cowboy was shooting both pistols as fast as he could not bothering with having to reload.
   
   Misha caught sight of a tall, muscular woman dressed wearing a skin tight spandex dress and carrying a large circular shield. In her left hand was a battle axe with absurdly large blades on it. Everything she had was painted bright green right down to the shamrock on her chest. Even the axe was green. His computers identified her as the heroine 'Irish Lass.' She within a few feet of Babbage and was hunched over with her shield held up over her head. One of the monsters massive claws came down on her and slammed into the shield with a sound like an artillery shell exploding. There was a flash of light so bright that it momentarily blinded Misha. When the filters kicked in and his vision cleared the green woman was still there swinging her axe with considerable skill in spite of the electricity that arced along her body. The massive charges of electricity seemed to have no effect on her.

   A red haired woman wearing a red, white and blue outfit complete with a large white star on her chest rushed forward. In each of her hands was with a long, sharp dagger. She leapt off the ground and landed on the thin, metal pipe on top of the chain link fence. With astounding nimbleness the woman raced along the fence top till she was close to Babbage. Then the woman leapt into the air with the gracefulness of a gazelle. She came down onto the robot, blades first. Their points puncturing the bronze skin of the robot.

   Bolts of electricity arced across the monsters skin as one of its arms reached back to deal with the intruder. But the woman leapt clear doing a back flip in midair before coming to land on the fence some twenty feet away.

   But for all the people shooting, blasting and slashing it, Babbage seemed unaffected and was lashing out at its assailants.  A ball of electricity with bolts of lightning crackling over its surface appeared in its massive clawed fists. The robot tossed the ball at a tall, blue skinned man. It exploded at his feet sending the super flying through the air and into a truck.

   Misha took a grenade from his belt and pulled the pin. He kept a firm grip on the grenade, being sure that the safety lever was tight under his thumb. "GRENADE!" the vulpine shouted and tossed the deadly green object at Babbage. The safety lever flew off arming the weapon. Misha's aim was true and the sphere landed between the feet of the monster. It went off with a loud bang sending shrapnel lancing into the bronze legs of the creature.

   Babbage turned and its bronze face seemed to look straight at him.

   "Oh shit!" Misha snarled just as a bolt of lightning shot out from the robots chest and caught the fox in the legs.

   Misha toppled to the ground as the electricity raced through his body. The searing pain made him howl in agony. He convulsed uncontrollably as the energy scrambled his mind and body.

   "POWER OVERLOAD! Shunt electricity away from primary systems! Main CPU has crashed. Protected auxiliary is still operational. Reassert control over voluntary systems."

   Slowly Misha regained his senses. He was laying on the ground about, the damp cool concrete felt good against his body. The fight was still raging in front of him but thankfully Babbage had lost interest in him and was busy fighting all the other superheroes. The data usually displayed in his eyesight was gone telling him of damage to the computer inside him. That worried him, he had grown accustomed to having the computer telling him everything he needed to know instantly. He slowly stood up  trying to shake off the lingering effects of the jolt.

   "Restarting primary CPU," came the nanites words. "Major damage. Stand still till we effect emergency repairs. That shot was twelve points over what we thought was your limit for electrical resistence."

   He could feel the nanites at work inside him repairing cybernetic systems and healing wounds. After a moment information reappeared on his eyesight, "system rebooting, please wait." Then more familiar data came up. First it displayed an update on his body telling him what had already known - that he had been really hurt.

   A woman dressed in what looked to be a Viking outfit (complete with a helmet with horns on it) walked over to him. "Are you all right?" His computer identified her as the Ice Queen.

   He noticed that icicles dangled from the horns on her helmet and she was covered with a fine layer of frost.

   "I'm all right," he responded. "Just a little battered."

   She nodded and snowflakes rained down onto the ground. "Babbage packs quite a punch. But so do I!" With that she turned and pointed her hand at the monster. A blast of razor sharp icicles raced from her hand slamming into the bronze patchwork on Babbage's chest.

   "Try not to let that happen again," the nanites commented.

   "I didn't want it to happen the first time," Misha countered. Looking around he spotted his bow resting on the concrete close by. He grabbed the weapon and examined it closely. Thankfully it seemed undamaged and he reached around to his quiver. His fingers ran along the projectiles counting them and taking stock of their condition. None of them seemed to have been damaged but it was not an arrow he wanted. The fox reached to his belt and pulled two grenades off.

   "You didn't like that grenade did you?" Misha snarled at the rampaging monster. "Try these!" and with that he tossed both grenades. Both went off with a loud blast that ripped into the bronze skin of the creature. The fox reached around and grabbed hold of an arrow with the large, cylindrical head filled with explosives. The fox pulled that arrow and nocked it to his bow. A prompted thought brought up a targeting reticule into his eyesight. The wind speed, direction and temperature also popped into view. Also the computer warned of the fifteen other heroes and heroines that were close to the robot. Misha took his time aiming at the massive robot.

   Around the monster was pure chaos as a score of heroes and heroines doing there level best to destroy it with swords, claws, flames, ice and even one tall man wielding a telephone pole like it was a baseball bat. Misha tried to shoot, but his way was always blocked. He took two steps to the right and then several to the left. Finally the fox saw his opening. The bow snapped and the projectile arced through the air before slamming into Babbage's left leg and exploding a load roar. The blast ripped open the clockwork monster's leg causing a lot of damage. But Babbage refused to fall. Still stomping about as if the damage was nothing.

   "Oh come on! That should have shattered that leg."

   "STOP SHOOTING AT THE CHEST AND GO FOR THE LEGS!" Misha shouted as loud as possible. Trying to be heard over the noise.

   The woman in white tights who had yelled at him before stepped forward. She spread out all her fingers as she pointed her hands at the monster. A cloud of glowing, green vapor shot out from the woman's hands and wrapped around Babbage's left leg.

   "WARNING! Radiation levels are spiking at 20 Milirads! The radiation is contained to the cloud but do not get too close."

   "Levels are STILL rising. 100 milirads. Wow! She really is a radioactive mutant! Just like the comic books!"

   The only effect that Misha could see was a slight pitting on the surface. "Harder!" he shouted to the girl. He snapped off arrow after arrow. The missiles slamming into the leg moments before they dissolved. 

   "You need to rest. There is too much damage to heal it all while you are exerting yourself like this."

   In his vision he was getting all sorts of warnings. Bones broken, flesh and muscles torn, organs torn and bruised. He worked hard now pushing his body and ignoring the warnings he was getting. Now was not the time to stop or slow down.

   "570 milirads and rising! You are starting to take surface damage. Limit exposure time."

   A quick glance at the girl showed a look of pain and determination on her face and the cloud grew a lighter shade of green as the glow increased. Misha watched as the metal on the monsters leg just dissolved under the attack of the radioactive cloud. Babbage stumbled and Irish Lass raced forward swinging her axe up as the monster fell down towards her. The massive blade bit deeply into the bronze covered chest ripping and tearing the innards as she twisted out of the way. The several tons of bronze slammed into the pavement at her feet with enough force to shake the ground like an earthquake. The girl let out a gasp and stumbled backwards and came to rest against a wall. 

   "Radiation levels are dropping but the monster is still hot!"

   A crowd of supers rushed forward intent on finishing the monster. Misha trotted forward but stopped when he was ten feet away. Babbage had both arms under itself and was slowly lifting its massive bulk off the ground. He spotted one of the deep wounds made earlier by the knife wielding woman.  He took careful aim and sent an arrow flying into one of the wounds. The arrow disappeared completely into the monster! A moment later there was a soft whump! and flames shot out of the wound. The crowd closed around the monster blasting and smashing the robot. Babbage struggled to get up but a ball of flame took his arm out and the monster fell to the shattered concrete.

   The fox stepped forward as all the supers clustered closer for the final kill and it became hard to see the robot through the flames and explosions. He snapped off arrow after arrow fast putting the projectiles into the  monster. He alternated his arrows with a hand grenade tossing the spheres till he reached for one off his belt and found he had no more. Babbage shifted again and a bolt of lightning shot out of one hand but did not go very far. Sparks danced along its body and then stopped. the massive clockwork dropped to the ground and this time did not move.

   "Babbage's power output is zero. We're not picking up no activity in the robot at all. Structural damage is at 100%."

   "He's dead Jim."

   Misha stopped shooting and relaxed. Returning the arrow he had in his hand to the quiver on his back.

   "IT'S OVER!" Misha shouted. "Babbage is down!"

   The attacks continued for a moment then slackened as people realized their enemy was dead. Finally silence fell over the group. The only noise was the crackling and snapping of flames. The group just stood there in shock and amazement.

   "Wow!" someone said in a soft voice. "We won!"

   The sounds of several sirens screaming grew louder, telling of the arrival of ambulances and fire engines. The sound snapped everyone out of their revere.

   "Check those wrecked cars for trapped people," Misha ordered as he pointed to where Babbage had smashed a trio of automobiles. Beyond the cars he saw a building fully engulfed in flames. "Get that warehouse fire out before it spreads to the whole block!"

   "Your power levels are down to 15%," the nanites warned. "Rest now or we will do it for you."

   Exhausted, Misha sagged against a wrecked car then sat down resting his back against the metal of the hood. He felt the pain ease and he closed his eyes to rest both mind and body.

   "Better! We are doing a complete check on all systems. We need at least ten minutes of rest here before you even consider moving."

   "Concentrating on primary systems until we can get him into bed!"

   Misha was aware of people rushing around him. He heard several supers pulling apart the metal of a car to reach the injured people inside. A loud hissing noise and the sudden ending of the crackling of flames told him of someone fighting fires.

   "Are you all right?" Someone asked suddenly.

   Misha opened his eyes to find a fireman bending over him with a concerned look on his face. "Are you all right?" the man asked again.

   "I'll be all right after a good night's sleep."

   The fireman pointed a book shaped object at the vulpine. "As a matter of fact you are NOT all right. You have 9 broken ribs along with a half dozen more broken bones, burns and contusions."

   He sighed. "Sometimes when you push the envelope," Misha said. "It pushes back."

   The man just looked at Misha with a puzzled expression.

   "I've had a busy week," Misha explained. "I had most of those injuries before the fight with Babbage. Damn Sky raiders. slammed me good yesterday."

   "Skyraiders? There's hasn't been any Raider activity all week here in Paragon city."

   "You do know that there is this small place called the rest of the world," Misha commented sarcastically. "Not everything happens just in Paragon city."

   "The world?" the fireman answered and smiled. "What's that? Everything happens here," was the half humorous answer. "Sometimes I think I should move to someplace quieter. Like Somalia."

   Misha shook his head slowly. "I've been to Somalia. That place is hell on earth. Even the Rikti avoid it. The joke in the rangers is that the Rikti attacked Somalia and no one there noticed."

*****************

   The fox made his way back to the transit station ignoring the commotion going on around him. They didn't need him here, not with all the police, fire and supers wandering about. The vulpine leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. Misha was just about to drift off when he heard the whoosh of an arriving train. slowly he made his way into the car and gratefully sank into an open seat. He was asleep before the doors closed.