challenge #4: alternate universes, part 1
Title: In Peace, Vigilance part 1
Rating: T for cartoon violence
Summary: With the help of D.Un.C.An. and the Wardens, Grey Commander fights crime in Denerim City. When Mayor Theirin is kidnapped by the criminal organization Darkspawn, can she trust Police Commissioner MacTir? Or will his hatred of masked vigilantism put everything at risk?
“Watch out!”
Without turning to look, Grey Commander gracefully ducked the arc of the bat swung at her head and turned her drop to the ground into a fluid leg-sweep that sent the goon behind her sprawling.
“Thanks!” she shouted to Holy Archer, who nodded and eyed another mobster down the sight of her bow. Drawing the padded arrow behind her ear, she let loose and felled the man on the other side of the room. He had been almost ready to level his tommy gun at Vixen, but it didn't look like he'd be bothering anyone any time soon.
It was hard to tell, as she was currently a giant spider, but Grey Commander suspected the shapeshifter sniffed with disdain before pouncing on a nearby opponent. Holy Archer knew better than to expect Vixen's gratitude, and Grey Commander wondered under what circumstances the two of them would ever be friends.
No time to think about that now, though. The Shade was about to get away. Shooting a grappling hook into one of the ceiling beams above, Grey Commander swooped across the warehouse to the rear platform, aiming a double-footed kick right at the gangster's back. Not bad, she thought as the kick connected, sending him to the floor. Kneeling forcefully on top of him, she cuffed his arms behind his back and was about to start asking questions when D.Un.C.An.'s electronic voice crackled in her ear.
“Wardens! Come in, Wardens!”
Stifling a sigh, Grey Commander pressed two fingers to the side of her cowl.
“Grey Commander here. What's up?”
“Report to base immediately,” came the reply. “We've received an urgent message from Mayor Theirin's office.”
“When is it never not urgent?” Grey Commander grumbled, hoisting the gangster to his feet. She whistled to Warhound, who dropped the mobster he had been shaking by the collar and trotted over, panting with pleasure. His mistress allowed herself a smile and scratched him behind his ears before motioning the rest of the troop over. “Vixen, could you web these guys up for the cops? We've got to go.”
Holy Archer dropped gracefully from her perch atop the crates and helped drag the gang members to the center of the warehouse, where Vixen encased them in a thick layer of white webbing.
“You think this will hold them long enough for the police to arrive?” Holy Archer asked doubtfully, massaging a crick in her shoulder.
“If I had called and told them there was suspicious activity by the docks, probably not,” Grey Commander admitted, tapping something into the controls on her watch. “So I reported seeing a group of costumed individuals breaking into a warehouse.”
“Wait, what --”
The sudden sound of sirens announced the arrival of the Denerim police.
“Huh. They're a little early,” Grey Commander observed calmly. “Guess Commissioner MacTir's promise to lower response times wasn't just a press stunt.”
“COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP,” a megaphone commanded outside. “WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED.”
“Grey...” Holy Archer said warningly, a note of panic in her voice.
“Vixen, a little help?” Grey Commander said, pointing to the broken skylight overhead.
Vixen, who had just transformed into her own form, rolled her eyes. “Oh yes, I am ever your willing slave,” she spat. Throwing her arms into the air, she became a giant eagle in a blinding flash of light. Without waiting another moment, she picked up her team mates (Holy Archer in one talon, Grey Commander and Warhound in the other) and vaulted for the sky. Half a moment later the SWAT team burst through the doors to find only an oddly-wrapped pile of criminals, and not so much as a feather more.
------
“I am so sorry,” All-Star said for what must have been the fifteenth time since Vixen had flown them neatly into the jet's hangar. If she hadn't known that it would break her knuckles, Grey Commander probably would have punched him by now. Though it still wasn't his fault that the police had responded faster than they anticipated, he was all too willing to shoulder the blame for not getting the jet there in time. Even that wouldn't have been so bad if he would just shut up about it, already.
Holy Archer put a comforting hand on her friend's broad shoulder, and Grey Commander quickened her pace for the meeting room. Already at their customary places around the table were Qun, and Victory, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. Zipper and Boulder were not at their seats, and were in fact nearly at each other's throats, the slight speedster literally running circles around his increasingly irritated companion, whose face was fast approaching the same color as his flame-red beard. Grey Commander hoped that they would knock it off before Boulder got really angry. They were still repairing the damage to the Keep after Zip hit on him last week.
Victory graced the arrivals with a grateful smile, setting aside her book.
“I am so glad to see that you all arrived safely,” she said, wrinkles around her blue eyes indicating the depths of her sincerity. Whether it was because they were well or because their arrival would end Zipper's antics, it was hard to say. Victory's powers came from the favor of Andraste, her people's goddess of wisdom. Grey Commander wondered if superhuman patience was one of them.
“Thank you,” Grey Commander said, taking her seat at the head of the table. Qun remained impassive, the merest ghost of a nod indicating that he had noticed their arrival at all. Even after all this time, it was hard to intuit his feelings; the alien from Qunari kept his own counsel. Still, he could be counted on, and had saved her life more times than she could count. Grey Commander was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially as he was content to be paid in cookies.
“I am still really sorry,” All Star repeated, taking his seat next to her. She counted to ten backwards in her head. Slowly.
“I believe you,” she said, noticing that Zipper and Boulder were still at it. With a sigh, she grabbed the empty coffee mug at her elbow and chucked it at them. Zip skidded to a halt, catching it neatly.
“Are we all ready to start?” she demanded.
“Commander,” the speedster purred, slinking to his chair in a way that invited her to watch.
“Boulder?” Grey Commander asked, purposefully looking the other way. “You all right?”
“Aye,” he grumbled, hopping into his chair.
“Then can we all get started?” she asked the general assembly. Various sounds of assent rose from around the table. “Good. D.Un.C.An., what do you have?”
Here at Vigil's Keep, the Digital Universal Communication Analyst, or D.Un.C.An., mostly existed as a disembodied, bearded face on the communication screens, when he wasn't busy being a disembodied baritone voice dispensing alerts (often at the most inopportune times).
“The First Lady wishes to speak to you, Commander.”
Behind her cowl, Grey Commander's eyebrows shot towards the sky. The woman's father was an outspoken public opponent of the Wardens, much as her husband commended them personally. In her other life as Elissa Cousland, party girl heiress, Grey Commander had spoken once or twice with Anora on the subject of vigilantism, over benefit auction cocktails. The First Lady was not a fan. What could she want with the Wardens?
“Patch her through.”
The AI's avatar disappeared from the screen and was replaced by that of Anora Theirin, wife of the mayor and by most accounts the real power in town hall. Her hair and makeup were immaculate, as always, but from the way she twisted her wedding ring and knit her brow it appeared that something was wrong. Grey Commander thought of all the things that could disturb Anora's composure. There weren't many, and none of them were pleasant.
“First Lady,” Grey Commander hailed the woman, keeping the concern from her voice. “How can we help you?”
“Wardens,” Anora said, voice slightly unsteady, “I --”
To the team's great discomfort, she began to cry.
Grey Commander and All Star exchanged meaningful glances.
“It's all right,” he said softly. “Just take your time.” Grey Commander knew there was a reason she kept him around. Something about his voice was just so... reassuring. Maybe it was those big puppy dog eyes of his, the clean-cut church boy wholesomeness that just radiated earnest goodness. Whatever it was, she didn't have it.
“You're my only hope,” Anora sniffed.
“What seems to be the problem, ma'am?”
“You are no doubt aware of the terrorist organization known as Darkspawn,” she told them, regaining herself a bit and smoothing a non-existent flyaway hair.
“Yes ma'am, we are,” All Star agreed. Darkspawn had been spreading like a blight across downtown. Robbery, arson, murder - they were more than ordinary thugs. Ordinary thugs leave something behind. Darkspawn was laying siege to Denerim block by block, with car bombs scouting ahead and cop-killers bringing up the rear.
“They have kidnapped my husband and are holding him for ransom.”
Grey Warden sucked in a breath. “Have you contacted the police?” she asked, cutting off whatever All Star had been about to say.
“Of course I have,” Anora sighed, sounding almost annoyed. “My father has his best men on it.”
“But you still called us,” Grey Warden observed.
Anora looked at her hands, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. “This... has not been a good year for the city, financially. I fear we cannot meet their demands. And if we do not...”
Grey Commander let the rest remain unsaid. “How long have they given you?”
“Until 9 o'clock tomorrow morning.”
“Darkspawn is not above killing the mayor if they are paid even a minute late,” Qun observed impassively. “It would greatly enhance their credibility with later threats.”
“Where is he being held? Do you know?” Grey Commander asked, really wishing Qun knew a bit more about human emotion.
“Ostagar Towers,” Anora said. “Please. Hurry.”
Rating: T for cartoon violence
Summary: With the help of D.Un.C.An. and the Wardens, Grey Commander fights crime in Denerim City. When Mayor Theirin is kidnapped by the criminal organization Darkspawn, can she trust Police Commissioner MacTir? Or will his hatred of masked vigilantism put everything at risk?
“Watch out!”
Without turning to look, Grey Commander gracefully ducked the arc of the bat swung at her head and turned her drop to the ground into a fluid leg-sweep that sent the goon behind her sprawling.
“Thanks!” she shouted to Holy Archer, who nodded and eyed another mobster down the sight of her bow. Drawing the padded arrow behind her ear, she let loose and felled the man on the other side of the room. He had been almost ready to level his tommy gun at Vixen, but it didn't look like he'd be bothering anyone any time soon.
It was hard to tell, as she was currently a giant spider, but Grey Commander suspected the shapeshifter sniffed with disdain before pouncing on a nearby opponent. Holy Archer knew better than to expect Vixen's gratitude, and Grey Commander wondered under what circumstances the two of them would ever be friends.
No time to think about that now, though. The Shade was about to get away. Shooting a grappling hook into one of the ceiling beams above, Grey Commander swooped across the warehouse to the rear platform, aiming a double-footed kick right at the gangster's back. Not bad, she thought as the kick connected, sending him to the floor. Kneeling forcefully on top of him, she cuffed his arms behind his back and was about to start asking questions when D.Un.C.An.'s electronic voice crackled in her ear.
“Wardens! Come in, Wardens!”
Stifling a sigh, Grey Commander pressed two fingers to the side of her cowl.
“Grey Commander here. What's up?”
“Report to base immediately,” came the reply. “We've received an urgent message from Mayor Theirin's office.”
“When is it never not urgent?” Grey Commander grumbled, hoisting the gangster to his feet. She whistled to Warhound, who dropped the mobster he had been shaking by the collar and trotted over, panting with pleasure. His mistress allowed herself a smile and scratched him behind his ears before motioning the rest of the troop over. “Vixen, could you web these guys up for the cops? We've got to go.”
Holy Archer dropped gracefully from her perch atop the crates and helped drag the gang members to the center of the warehouse, where Vixen encased them in a thick layer of white webbing.
“You think this will hold them long enough for the police to arrive?” Holy Archer asked doubtfully, massaging a crick in her shoulder.
“If I had called and told them there was suspicious activity by the docks, probably not,” Grey Commander admitted, tapping something into the controls on her watch. “So I reported seeing a group of costumed individuals breaking into a warehouse.”
“Wait, what --”
The sudden sound of sirens announced the arrival of the Denerim police.
“Huh. They're a little early,” Grey Commander observed calmly. “Guess Commissioner MacTir's promise to lower response times wasn't just a press stunt.”
“COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP,” a megaphone commanded outside. “WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED.”
“Grey...” Holy Archer said warningly, a note of panic in her voice.
“Vixen, a little help?” Grey Commander said, pointing to the broken skylight overhead.
Vixen, who had just transformed into her own form, rolled her eyes. “Oh yes, I am ever your willing slave,” she spat. Throwing her arms into the air, she became a giant eagle in a blinding flash of light. Without waiting another moment, she picked up her team mates (Holy Archer in one talon, Grey Commander and Warhound in the other) and vaulted for the sky. Half a moment later the SWAT team burst through the doors to find only an oddly-wrapped pile of criminals, and not so much as a feather more.
------
“I am so sorry,” All-Star said for what must have been the fifteenth time since Vixen had flown them neatly into the jet's hangar. If she hadn't known that it would break her knuckles, Grey Commander probably would have punched him by now. Though it still wasn't his fault that the police had responded faster than they anticipated, he was all too willing to shoulder the blame for not getting the jet there in time. Even that wouldn't have been so bad if he would just shut up about it, already.
Holy Archer put a comforting hand on her friend's broad shoulder, and Grey Commander quickened her pace for the meeting room. Already at their customary places around the table were Qun, and Victory, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. Zipper and Boulder were not at their seats, and were in fact nearly at each other's throats, the slight speedster literally running circles around his increasingly irritated companion, whose face was fast approaching the same color as his flame-red beard. Grey Commander hoped that they would knock it off before Boulder got really angry. They were still repairing the damage to the Keep after Zip hit on him last week.
Victory graced the arrivals with a grateful smile, setting aside her book.
“I am so glad to see that you all arrived safely,” she said, wrinkles around her blue eyes indicating the depths of her sincerity. Whether it was because they were well or because their arrival would end Zipper's antics, it was hard to say. Victory's powers came from the favor of Andraste, her people's goddess of wisdom. Grey Commander wondered if superhuman patience was one of them.
“Thank you,” Grey Commander said, taking her seat at the head of the table. Qun remained impassive, the merest ghost of a nod indicating that he had noticed their arrival at all. Even after all this time, it was hard to intuit his feelings; the alien from Qunari kept his own counsel. Still, he could be counted on, and had saved her life more times than she could count. Grey Commander was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially as he was content to be paid in cookies.
“I am still really sorry,” All Star repeated, taking his seat next to her. She counted to ten backwards in her head. Slowly.
“I believe you,” she said, noticing that Zipper and Boulder were still at it. With a sigh, she grabbed the empty coffee mug at her elbow and chucked it at them. Zip skidded to a halt, catching it neatly.
“Are we all ready to start?” she demanded.
“Commander,” the speedster purred, slinking to his chair in a way that invited her to watch.
“Boulder?” Grey Commander asked, purposefully looking the other way. “You all right?”
“Aye,” he grumbled, hopping into his chair.
“Then can we all get started?” she asked the general assembly. Various sounds of assent rose from around the table. “Good. D.Un.C.An., what do you have?”
Here at Vigil's Keep, the Digital Universal Communication Analyst, or D.Un.C.An., mostly existed as a disembodied, bearded face on the communication screens, when he wasn't busy being a disembodied baritone voice dispensing alerts (often at the most inopportune times).
“The First Lady wishes to speak to you, Commander.”
Behind her cowl, Grey Commander's eyebrows shot towards the sky. The woman's father was an outspoken public opponent of the Wardens, much as her husband commended them personally. In her other life as Elissa Cousland, party girl heiress, Grey Commander had spoken once or twice with Anora on the subject of vigilantism, over benefit auction cocktails. The First Lady was not a fan. What could she want with the Wardens?
“Patch her through.”
The AI's avatar disappeared from the screen and was replaced by that of Anora Theirin, wife of the mayor and by most accounts the real power in town hall. Her hair and makeup were immaculate, as always, but from the way she twisted her wedding ring and knit her brow it appeared that something was wrong. Grey Commander thought of all the things that could disturb Anora's composure. There weren't many, and none of them were pleasant.
“First Lady,” Grey Commander hailed the woman, keeping the concern from her voice. “How can we help you?”
“Wardens,” Anora said, voice slightly unsteady, “I --”
To the team's great discomfort, she began to cry.
Grey Commander and All Star exchanged meaningful glances.
“It's all right,” he said softly. “Just take your time.” Grey Commander knew there was a reason she kept him around. Something about his voice was just so... reassuring. Maybe it was those big puppy dog eyes of his, the clean-cut church boy wholesomeness that just radiated earnest goodness. Whatever it was, she didn't have it.
“You're my only hope,” Anora sniffed.
“What seems to be the problem, ma'am?”
“You are no doubt aware of the terrorist organization known as Darkspawn,” she told them, regaining herself a bit and smoothing a non-existent flyaway hair.
“Yes ma'am, we are,” All Star agreed. Darkspawn had been spreading like a blight across downtown. Robbery, arson, murder - they were more than ordinary thugs. Ordinary thugs leave something behind. Darkspawn was laying siege to Denerim block by block, with car bombs scouting ahead and cop-killers bringing up the rear.
“They have kidnapped my husband and are holding him for ransom.”
Grey Warden sucked in a breath. “Have you contacted the police?” she asked, cutting off whatever All Star had been about to say.
“Of course I have,” Anora sighed, sounding almost annoyed. “My father has his best men on it.”
“But you still called us,” Grey Warden observed.
Anora looked at her hands, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. “This... has not been a good year for the city, financially. I fear we cannot meet their demands. And if we do not...”
Grey Commander let the rest remain unsaid. “How long have they given you?”
“Until 9 o'clock tomorrow morning.”
“Darkspawn is not above killing the mayor if they are paid even a minute late,” Qun observed impassively. “It would greatly enhance their credibility with later threats.”
“Where is he being held? Do you know?” Grey Commander asked, really wishing Qun knew a bit more about human emotion.
“Ostagar Towers,” Anora said. “Please. Hurry.”