Daughter, Lover, Superheroine Ch. 10

[This story is set in Paragon City, taken from the former MMO game City of Heroes. All place names, hero names and registered trademarks belong to their rightful legal owners and are not intended as copyright infringement in any way. This work is purely meant as a piece of entertainment, and not for commercial purposes in any way, shape or form.]

[The precursor to this series is entitled "Mom the Superheroine".]

[Thanks to my girlfriend Ashley for being my muse as always <3... and to AwkwardMD for being such a good reader and sounding board!]

[Oh, and... there's no actual sex in this chapter. Just stating this in advance.]

The man whom Mercedes Sheldon had just identified as Odysseus, the leader of the Warriors who normally operated behind the scenes, smiled and raised a hand. "No need for that, Midnighter. I'm not here to fight you, or your companion. You've more than proved your worth, by so... easily... defeating Menelaus and the men under his command. "

He cast a withering look at the kneeling Menelaus, who mumbled something unintelligible and looked away.

"I am here to strike a deal with you that will be to our mutual benefit. So please, Ms. Sheldon... be at ease. You as well, Battleborn," he said, addressing Cindy directly. "You and I will not fight today."

Cindy couldn't help feeling a small surge of pride. The bad guys really were learning to respect her name! She had to be doing something right.

"You will forgive me for taking whatever precautions I can against the Fists of Vulcan, David," Mercedes replied stonily. The nimbus of energy still played around her hands.

Clearly, Cindy thought, she too should stay on her guard. She didn't know if she could take on such a notorious criminal boss yet, but she had never backed down from a fight and wasn't about to start!

It seemed, though, that the fighting was done, for now. Odysseus -- whom Mercedes had just addressed by his real name, apparently -- chuckled and spread his hands in a gesture of goodwill. "As you can see, and no doubt sense, magician, I have not brought the Fists. I promise you, at the moment you have nothing to fear from me.

"Let me give you the information you want: there is a cargo ship not too far from here, near Striga Isle, and Hector has made that the base of his current operations, along with the Warrior leaders who have defected to him. He has the Crown of Glory. And all I ask, in return for what I have just told you, is simply this: defeat him. Stop him in his tracks. Otherwise, the vainglorious fool will use the Crown in his attempt to take over all of Paragon City.

"He will fail, of course -- eventually. But the Crown will confer upon him enough tactical acumen and leadership to establish his regime, for a time. It will veil his eyes with the illusion of success, since the mightier forces that can and will defeat him are temporarily... preoccupied, though they will return sooner or later. Still, I think the aftermath of his campaign of conquest is not something any of us wants to deal with.

"After you've subdued them in whatever way you see fit, you may retrieve the Crown for yourself. I will then move to reassert my influence and restore unity to the Warriors. Our paths will diverge there, and our interactions will end. Are we agreed?"

Mercedes hesitated for a few moments, then nodded. "What you offer is, of course, a devil's bargain... in other words, nothing we of the Midnight Club are unfamiliar with. We are agreed. Tell us where."

Cindy felt disgruntled. The haughty Mercedes had not even thought to ask her what she felt about this deal. "I suppose she really meant it when she said she would be the brain, and only needed me for my brawn!" she thought.

Well, she was here to discharge the debt incurred when she asked the Midnighters to take care of Debbie Dinh. She'd just have to discharge it the best way she could, even if it meant putting up with the insufferable Mercedes Sheldon.

She wondered how Debbie was getting on. It would be nice to catch up sometime soon.

**

Barbara bent over to check the oven, and smiled.

The pot roast was nearly done, and the aroma filled the kitchen. The advanced ventilation system would soon dispel the esters and purify the air, of course, which Barbara personally thought was a great pity when it came to kitchen facilities. What was a kitchen without the various smells of food and condiments?

Still, that was how it had to be. They were no longer living alone in their modest apartment in Kings Row. This was a fully-equipped Supergroup base. Hospital-like standards of sanitation were only to be expected from the automated systems quietly whirring away in the background.

Still, no matter what their life circumstances were, Barbara Beck would ensure that she could make a nice pot roast for her strong, lovely daughter's dinner -- and for any guests, such as the one who was about to arrive. Barbara had already laid out the tea and cakes for young Debbie, but she would be glad to offer the diminutive Vietnamese woman a slice or two of meat.

Had it really been two years or slightly less since Barbara had been forced out of retirement by the actions of Valerie Phelps? In some ways, it felt as though it had been longer. So much had happened since then. And yet, in other ways, time's arrow had flown so swiftly. Cindy was going to graduate soon, and then she would take on the mantle of a full-time Hero of Paragon, and of the nation!

Cindy had changed so much since the kidnapping incident with Valerie and Elena... and yet, she was still the same at her core. A mother could know this better than anyone else. Cindy before her powers manifested had already been a good, strong woman; Cindy with powers was simply Cindy writ larger, a more empowered version of the same wonderful woman. Her reputation had grown like one of her own unbounded leaps.

How was she getting on with that British magician? Mercedes Sheldon had seemed a little haughty, and somewhat condescending even to heroines in good standing. Barbara wondered if her daughter would work well enough with a wide range of personalities and temperaments. She well remembered her own heroic career, and the people it had brought her into contact with.

So many of them were gone now, especially after the Rikti invasion. Some, like her, had retired and dropped into obscurity; others were no longer among the living. A few, unfortunately, had chosen to follow paths other than that of the Hero. Barbara could not condone their fall from grace; she still held out hope that some day those lost sheep could return to the fold. But it never seemed likely. Not everyone, after all, could be a Frostfire or a Miss Thystle. Not every superpowered being had the same kind of moral core, the one thing above all that defined a Hero: the spirit of self-sacrifice for the sake of others.

Barbara sighed. Regrets were not to be dwelled upon. The only thing one could ever do was to look to the future, and do one's part to make it better than the past.

The base announcement system chimed; a contralto voice that sounded like a blend of Cindy's and Barbara's said, "You have a visitor in the waiting room."

That would be Debbie Dinh. Barbara stripped off her potholders, slipped out of her apron, and hurried to the antechamber. When she saw her guest for the afternoon, she beamed in welcome.

Debbie smiled shyly back at her. She was very different from that pale, frightened and tormented girl Barbara and Cindy had first encountered. Gone were her eyebags and pinched cheeks, her hunched shoulders and sallow skin. She stood straighter now, and she had evidently been eating and sleeping better. Her straight black hair now fell to her shoulders. A black tee and light blue ripped jeans comprised her punk ensemble -- there were various occult symbols printed on her shirt, and she wore a medallion and ring that bore skull designs. In other words... she was the picture of a normal, healthy young woman in her early twenties.

"Battler Babe! Hi... it's good to see you. Again." She half-raised a hand, and then let it fall awkwardly.

Barbara allowed her maternal instincts to take over and enveloped Debbie in a hug. "Please, I'm out of uniform, as you can see. Call me Barbara," she said, chuckling a little. "Welcome, Debbie. It's so good to have you here. Come and have some refreshments."

"Thank you for having me." They walked together down the main hallway, and Debbie looked about her avidly. "This is a really nice place!"

"Yes, it's old, but it's cleaned up well. We were very lucky to get it. Michelle has been such a great help -- you know Michelle White? Michael White's first cousin."

"The Back Alley Brawler's cousin? Yes, I've heard of her, but we've never met. Did she help you and Cindy with this base?"

"Absolutely! She pulled some strings, I'm afraid to say, and got us assigned here. I still feel it's too large for just the two of us, but well... I can't say I'm unhappy about it. We'll just have to work harder to deserve it, I suppose."

"Nobody deserves it more," Debbie said fervently. "I'm so happy the both of you have all this. It's only right." To which Barbara could only laugh a little in grateful acknowledgement.

"I'll show you around shortly if you like, give you a brief tour."

"I would love that."

They had arrived at the sitting room. "Will you take tea? Coffee? Or any other beverage?"

"Coffee sounds great, Battler... I mean, Barbara. Dark, please, no sugar."

"Would you like some pot roast? I'm making some for dinner, and we have plenty to spare, if you're hungry."

"Oh, no, I couldn't put you to trouble..."

"Not at all, my dear. Let me just pop into the kitchen and cut you a few slices."

It did Barbara's heart a power of good to see Debbie eating the meat with evident enjoyment. She would never say so out loud, but she thought Debbie's body still bore the marks of her chronic malnourishment. It wasn't simply that Barbara herself was generously proportioned, or that she was accustomed to Cindy's meaty frame. Debbie really had gone through tough times after losing her parents. She was a young adult now, in her own right, and could take care of herself... but if Barbara could do her own little part to help in that department, she most certainly would.

"So, you're with the Midnight Club now! It must be a terribly interesting experience. What have they got you doing?"

"Oh yes, it's definitely been pretty interesting. They are... very interesting people." Debbie coughed uncomfortably. "No, that's not right, I don't want to make out like they're shady or anything, although for some of them... I'm really not so sure..." Under her breath she muttered something that sounded a little like "Ashley McKnight" but Barbara couldn't quite make out the words.

"Don't worry, dear," Barbara said with a reassuring smile, "I'm familiar with who they are as an organization. I know they're neither heroic nor villainous -- they're just practitioners of the occult. I got to know quite a few of them during the Rikti War. In many ways they took the brunt of the invasion, you know -- they took a horrendous number of casualties, since the Rikti were so afraid of magic. I may not know anything about magic myself, but I do appreciate that they must be doing something good. Like, say, taking in people who need protection from supernatural reprisal." Barbara winked.

Debbie laughed. "Yeah, I suppose they do! I'm always going to be grateful to Genevieve for opening the door with them. It's really been a mixed bag. I've learned so much, overall, and I'm really pleased with that. It's much safer than being a dabbler like I used to be. Now at least I know what I'm doing when I summon demons."

"Oh... so... you're still... doing that?" Barbara tried her best not to sound the least bit judgmental. But for a woman with her sensibilities, it was still a difficult notion to wrap her head around.

"Mmhmm. I'm far from the only demon summoner within our ranks. In fact, I'm just a novice. Right now, I can just about handle two minions at once, in addition to one... sort of... you might call it a 'lieutenant', I guess. A more powerful one."

"I see... and um... what does... demon summoning entail? How does it work?" It was only polite, surely, to get someone talking about their passions, or course of study, or line of work.

"Well, I'm not sure I'm the right one to explain about the principles of it... I'm still very much a student! But it seems that when it comes to demonology, the summoner's emotions figure prominently in the process," Debbie explained earnestly, warming to the topic. "This is what I've been able to learn, anyway -- our emotional energy is a sort of fuel. More advanced rituals bind specific demons who have names, but the sort of summoning I do right now is really more akin to just conjuration. I'm working with some basic forces in the universe, and giving them shape according to some prescribed constraints. So the demons I summon aren't really sentient entities, with minds of their own, you know what I mean? Not like that first succubus I summoned, the one that... um..."

The one that Cindy faced down and defeated, Barbara filled in mentally. Well, as good as defeated.

"Emotional energy," she said, to try and change the topic, as Debbie blushed in chagrin. "How do you mean? How does that work to make, uh, demons form?"

"Well... typically, demonologists aren't the most personable types of people. We tend to be... troubled. And that's putting it mildly. Myself most emphatically not excepted," Debbie said, rolling her eyes slightly. "So, typically, demonologists channel their... their negative emotions, you know, things like... hatred, resentment, anger, pain and all of that... and after the rituals and spells and all of that, it takes physical form. That's usually why demons look the way they do, I guess.

"But in my case... I decided after a while that I didn't want to do it that way. I didn't want to be... feeling those things all the time anymore. You and Cindy really are an inspiration to me, you know. I, um..." She glanced at the floor shyly. "I really look up to the both of you, not only for what you did for me, but... what you showed me. About life. And how to face it. Just... your spirit, you know? The both of you.

"So basically I just... went to Sigil -- that's one of the senior Midnighters -- and told her how I felt, and asked her if there was some other way. If there wasn't, I was prepared to basically give up demonology altogether, and maybe just be a researcher or archivist of some sort.

"But she told me there definitely was an alternative. I didn't have to become all happy-sunshine-flowers, unicorns and rainbows, all of that... but I could deal with my negative emotions, and use some other emotions to fuel my demonology, not quite so negative or harmful but just as powerful in their own ways.

"So, long story short, I did. I'm just... feeling better, these days, than I ever used to. And I've found other emotions to channel into my demon summoning, though it's sort of changed the form my demons take. Um..." Debbie flushed suddenly, and fidgeted. "Um, yes. That's about it, really. Sorry, I really ramble on sometimes."

"No, no... it's fascinating," Barbara said sincerely. "And I'm so glad you're finding ways to manage your emotions and strike a healthier balance for yourself. It's never easy for anyone, and I'm so proud of you for doing so well."

"Thank you, Barbara! It means so much to me, to hear you say that." Debbie smiled broadly.

"If you'd ever like to take to the streets and become a registered Heroine some day, I'd be proud to be your referee, Debbie. I'm sure Cindy would be just as happy as I would be to go on patrol with you!"

"Um... uh... why... yes, thank you, I mean, but no, I..." Debbie stammered, completely flustered. "I mean, I would love to... maybe... some day."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. It's nothing you must feel obliged to do. Just a silly suggestion from me. Please forget I said anything."

"No, it's not silly at all... I would love to! But... it's just that, um..."

Barbara mentally chastened herself. Well, now, I've really gone and messed this up! I've made the poor girl feel ill at ease, now. I really need to remember, not everyone feels the same moral imperatives or has the same set of values.

"Why don't we have a tour of the facilities?" she suggested brightly. "I can show you the training room, where Cindy and I do our training, and our medical bay has some extremely interesting diagnostic equipment."

"Oh, I'd love that, please!"

But just as they stood up, an alert chimed. "Medi-porter beacon activated. Designation: Battleborn. Current location: medical bay. Current status: stable, non-critical."

Barbara's heart jumped into her mouth. My baby... my darling Cindy...

Debbie was gaping at her in shock, but quickly recovered. "Is Cindy hurt?" she cried. "We should go to her!"

"Yes. Come with me." Barbara swiftly led the way to the medical bay.

The doors slid open, and Barbara rushed in. "Cin..." Her cry died on her lips. Debbie followed close behind, but stopped short at the sight that greeted them.

The unconscious form lying on the medi-porter platform was not Cindy.

**

"That seriously sounded too good to be true," Cindy finally commented, after they'd both made their way to the location given.

The cargo ship was visible, anchored and tethered where Odysseus had said it would be. There were squads of Warriors patrolling on and about it, which seemed to lend credence to his information, but still... it could be a trap, Cindy thought.

"Well, be that as it may, I don't see any reason to look a gift horse in the mouth," Mercedes said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Even if this particular horse happens to be... Greek?" Cindy remembered that much from her studies.

Mercedes made a moue. "Most risible. Amusing quips aside, our objective is simple and it so happens that our aims align well with his. So even if David Hill -- Odysseus -- does intend to move in on us with a view to gaining the Crown for himself, we'll be prepared for that. Or at least, I will be, but that should suffice. Just follow my direction, and all will be well."

"Sure," Cindy muttered. Saying a sarcastic "yes, Mistress" would've been too on the nose.

"All right," Mercedes announced authoritatively. "Let's not muck about here. Come along, let's give these berks a right good bollocking. They've got my bloody Crown, and I want it back!"

Cindy cracked her knuckles, and smiled. She didn't like violence for its own sake... but punching these cleft-jawed stubble-sporting faces with their perpetual scowls was so immensely satisfying!

Ten minutes later, the last of the sentries on deck went down to a well-placed punch from Cindy.

They did work well as a team, she reflected. Mercedes's magic was mostly used outside of combat -- she could read magical auras or something, she'd said -- but also allowed her to perform telekinesis in various ways. Some of her spells froze enemies in their tracks, leaving them wide upon for Cindy's smashing haymakers and knockout blows.

She had to admit that the fight would've gone on for considerably longer without this magical assistance. These Warriors were extremely tough and resilient, far stronger opponents than street criminals like the Hellions or Skulls, or even the Outcasts with their elemental powers. They were comparable to Trolls, even, except that they fought with actual skill and tactics, making them much more dangerous than the Superadine-crazed ravers.

"Down this way. Stop lollygagging, will you? I can sense the Crown -- its aura is strong enough even through these layers of metal. Come along, no more dawdling!"