Where Do We Go From Here?

Posted on Fri Mar 25th, 2022 @ 5:45am by First Lieutenant Bethany Harrison & General Dyami Bentley (Tribal : Bent Leaf)
Edited on on Fri Mar 25th, 2022 @ 7:35am

Mission: HYDRA: Another Head Rises
Location: Mountain Peak, Arizona
Timeline: Present Day

Sitting high above Drake’s Academy, on the tallest peak overlooking the valley that housed the mutant-friendly community far below, Bethany’s sharp eyes took in the damage to one section of the expansive campus. The rainbow-eyed young woman glittered as the sun’s brilliant rays burst over her, then moved over her and down the hillside, her body greedily feeding on the only thing that truly nourished her.

“Julius, run the casualty list again,” Bethany ordered, her voice calm, distant.

“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” the nearly sentient AI that managed her bonded nano-armor responded, his accented voice gentle.

Bethany winced ever so slightly at the sound of Julius’ voice. So much like Jon’s British Tenor. It had been drawn from her subconscious during the bonding process, a sound pleasing to her ear, but in that moment, it drew tears to her eyes.

The other members of her team were either missing, or laying in the same state that Jon was. One had simply slid into the shadows of the world, invisible, unnoticed, though he had been in contact so at least she knew that he was alive, just out of touch for now.

“I don’t know how to live like this anymore, Julius,” she admitted softly.

Dyami stood behind the young woman unnoticed by either the green-eyed youth or her symbiotic companion.

The shaman's heart ached for Bethany. He thought of the girl as a daughter he never had. The young woman had been through so much in her short life. Born into an abusive, cultist commune, becoming a mutant, and losing her family because of her Fathers hatred. And all that by the age of sixteen. The young woman had bounced back as best she could, taking life's difficulties in stride. She trained harder than anyone he had ever trained, overcoming pain that would have killed even the strongest of humans.

Dedicating her life to doing what was right and good in a world that was all too often stained by evil, she paid the price that all warriors pay when confronting that evil. She had been injured, watched others be hurt and killed. She had found love, and now, had had that love torn from her grasp.

Dyami let out a mournful sigh., “Heavy is the head that wears the crown.” the Lord of the Dream realm thought. A fitting quote. Jon was asleep in the real world. And perpetually stuck in the realm of dreams. Dyami had sought him out in the Dream realm and the man was not aware of his situation. He thought it best to stay distant and keep watch, lest the dreams turn to nightmares. But he would not, no, could not tell Bethany of this, she would want to join him there. The shaman needed her here, in the real world. She had a part to play, but how could he get her to play it willingly, when she had paid such a high price already?

It had been years since the Shaman of the Nations had taken her under his wing, and he had trained her in ways that she never even imagined possible. What normal mentor takes you skulking through the underbrush as a racoon? Or hunting with a pack of wolves? “I hate that you can still sneak up on me like that,” she said, giving a soft laugh that lacked mirth, not turning her face away from the sun. “And you always seem to appear out of nowhere just when I need to talk to you. That’s kind of creepy. Not as creepy as Lorde, but still.”

Dyami chuckled, responding to the young woman’s statement “He and I have a lot in common, much to my chagrin I can assure you.”

The Shaman approached and sat near her in the grass. Crossing his legs he pulled his dream bag into his lap, and began fumbling around in it as if looking for something. “I know this is not the best time, but I need your help with something.” Dyami produced from his bag a small fuzzy brownish-orange exotic looking kitten, profering it to her he said “If you can handle it.” He looked at the woman hopefully.

Bethany glanced over at the shaman, her odd, swirling rainbow-colored eyes widening a bit at the sight of the kit being held out to her. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to make her feel better, give her something to focus on rather than the gut-churning emptiness that was always threatening to overtake her.

Slowly the young woman reached over to take the mostly helpless creature, giving her a good once over. “Another rehab, huh? She’s a little thin. And if you want me to raise and release her, I’d need to take her away from here, or she’ll get too used to being around people,” the battered brawler responded, then began dangling her fingers in her face as the small furry creature batted at them.

“Yes and no. Yes, I need you to raise her but if you were to release her you would be dooming her to a life of loneliness and solitude.” Dyami motioned to the small lump of fur that was greedily gnawing on Beth’s thumb. “She is the last of her kind. The mother died in childbirth, and I was never able to find the father. She is a Miracinonyx, her mother was the last American Cheetah. She will grow up to look like a rather large bobcat.

Bethany swallowed thickly, fighting back tears as she thought about Jon, laying silent and still in that bed. She knew very well the terror of possibly facing a life of solitude. “It feels like I can’t breathe, Dyami,” she said after a long silence, absently playing with the kit in her lap. “The last time we were apart, it almost killed me. It’s like part of me has just gone...dark. And I’m afraid it’s the better part of me.”

“Young one, he is not gone. He is there, if only asleep,” the shaman said quietly before continuing “And I am sure he thinks you are the better part of him, that is the way of love. And who knows, maybe you were both right? What matters, at this point, is for us all to carry forward and to do what we can, striving to deserve the pedestal that our loved ones placed us on.”

Dyami reached forward and scratched the kit on the head. “We will find out how to reverse this Beth. I know we will.” Dyami looked the girl in the eyes. “And we will need you to help with that. Jon and the others need us all to be stronger than we think we can be. They cannot save themselves, so we have to carry the load and do it for them.”

“I have something else for you.” The long haired Indian pulled a worn and battered map from his back pocket. Handing it to the brawler he nodded to the map. Marked on it was a small Hydra compound. “Nothing important to our cause, but I would say a little payback was in order. How do you feel about making a smoking crater?” Dyami watched the girl's expression closely as he awaited her reply.

Bethany looked down at the map and slowly took it, pulling it out of the kit’s way as it reached for the new toy. “We’ll shred the evidence later,” she admonished, a slight smile touching her lips. Then she looked back to Dyami, giving a slight shrug, wincing only slightly at the twinge of pain that shot through her with the motion.

“If the heads keep growing back, maybe we should start taking out fingers and toes. The greedy corporations and slimy politicians that keep their pockets lined with blood money, the traffickers that tear families apart. I don’t care how many graves I have to fill,” the young woman said, her skin going an ashen color beneath the brilliant sparkles. “But I need time. And some...distance. To heal, and to do what I have to do to keep Jon protected from what’s going to come.”

Dyami nodded. “Sometimes you have to break some fingers and toes to find out what you need to know. And we both know that the academy’s students will not do that. So maybe we do.” The Shaman looked at the sky as if for guidance before adding, “Take whatever time you need, I will protect Jon, and the others, with my life. I have already seen to their mental health, they will not suffer any ill effects from the sleep they are in.” Dyami looked back at the green eyed girl, “What are your plans and is there any way I can help?”

“Thank you for that,” Bethany said, sighing heavily. “At least I know he isn’t in there screaming to get out and we can’t help him.” She then scooped the kit up and draped her over her shoulder, rising gracefully from her previously seated position to stretch and let more of her body absorb the light that was fully surrounding her, allowing the familiar warmth of the desert mountain to work though healing muscles.

“Put me on the missing list. I’m already a ghost, but if they think I’m missing, maybe I can keep them focused away from the academy, or the underground,” Bethany responded to his question. “Other than that, I’ll need access to untraceable funds. I can use Julius for any research. It’s probably best that you don’t know too much, but I’ll be going back to Nevada for a while. I have to heal, and this one needs proper training. I think I will name her Mosi,” she said, pulling the little cat off of her shoulder and holding her up in front of her. “Oh, and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna need a permit for her.”

The Shaman chuckled and asked, “Do you ever think I do not know where my people are? You are a part of our tribe Bethany. Remember that if you ever need us we will be there for you. I will have your papers drawn up. And I will have cash and ID delivered to your room along with the money.”

Dyami placed his hand on the woman’s strong shoulder and looked her in the eye again, “You are like a daughter to me child. I will move heaven and earth to help the one you love.” The Indian Shaman waved his hand in front of Beth tracing runes in the air, and speaking words of power in Tsalagi. “If you ever truly need me, call out to me and I will come.”

The deranged tyrant that had fathered Bethany had nearly destroyed any trust that she had in men. She still didn’t trust most of them, and with good reason. Jon had been the first man to earn her trust and respect, even earning her love. Dyami had been the second man that she had learned to trust, then the men in her cell that had earned her trust over the last couple of years.

“Alright, Agidoda,” the young woman teased, grinning as she called him father in the language that he was speaking. She gave him a gentle smile. If any man had earned the title of father in her eyes, it was definitely the odd old shaman.

The blue-eyed shaman beamed at the young woman's response. “Let me know if you need anything else. On a more serious note, I am moving most of the inflicted to the Mesa base. What do you think of me moving Jon there? He would be safest there and he will have the best doctors I can find.”

“I would be more comfortable with him closer to home,” Bethany admitted, pulling Mosi close to her, trying to get her little claws under control. The thought of going home to their empty house with the white picket fence made the young woman shudder slightly. “Maybe see if you can have someone keep up with my garden. I...I can’t go there yet. Too many of our happy moments are there, and I’m not sure I could leave again if I went back now.”

“I understand agehutsa, come back when you are ready, in the meantime we will care for Jon and your home. And I will break a few fingers and toes to warm things up for you.” Dyami patted the kitten again and said “She will be fully grown in about one year. She will resemble a three hundred pound bobcat with extra long canines. At that point you will need a leash when in town.” The Shaman smiled once again and pulled out a small book from his dream bag. “Here is another gift. Something to pass the time in the desert.” Dyami turned and walked away waving over his shoulder as he did. “There will be a test when you get back, do not get soft while you are gone.” With that the image of the man faded into the desert wind.

The rainbow-eyed brawler chuckled a bit as Dyami pulled one of his disappearing acts. “As if,” she shouted as he faded, using one of the weird terms that seemed so popular with kids, with a certain learned ease. Then she looked down at the little cat in her arms, pondering what she was supposed to do with a three-hundred pound bobcat while she was trying to maintain some form of anonymity.

“Damn it, Dyami,” she muttered, looking back down into the valley. The trip down was going to be a bit more difficult with the fidgety kit in tow.

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FIN
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Dyami Bentley
"Talon"
Mutant Underground

Bethany Davies
"Fractal"
Mutant Underground