Lady Bombardier / A Calling?
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
Heather pressed the relay button attached to her gloves to increase the speed of her rocket boots as she came blazing out of the shadows of Talos Island’s last scrapers before the approach of the sea. She hit the clearing above the beach and twirled in a few corkscrews before circling out above the Atlantic Ocean. Soaring high above the water, Heather took a deep breath of the ocean air which compelled her to lower her altitude so that she was just a few feet from the water’s surface. The blasts from her boots caused the water to part behind her, creating a misty spray which shot up all around her. She couldn’t help but smile, as the cold water felt good on her face and neck, reminding her she was alive and free.
Out of the corner of her eye, Heather spotted the large wooden pier located just off of Spanky’s Boardwalk. She outstretched her arms and changed her course, lining up with the length of the pier, making it an ideal landing spot. Reducing her speed, Heather touched down lightly on the wooden planks which were constructed high above the surface of the ocean. She moved quickly to the railing overlooking the long drop below to the water. Like she had done so much as a little girl at Lake Erie, she looked for the flattest rock she could find and quickly tossed it side-arm over the edge. She watched it hit the water and skip along the surface several times before making a final "sploosh."
Heather sighed to herself, “Life was so much easier back then, wasn’t it?”
She walked along the plank back towards the boardwalk and as soon as the beach found its way under the pier, she decided to jump down into the sand. At first, Heather just moved the sand around with her boots.
Then her face suddenly lit up with a goofy smile, “What the heck! They’re already full of sand.” Bending down, she slipped off her boots. Remembering the open wounds on her calves and shins, she was extra careful to pull them off slowly, along with her socks, so as to not cause any more pain than was necessary. She then stuffed her socks in her boots and connecting the boots with the strap she used to carry them with, she flung them across her shoulder.
She recalled going to the beach when she was a kid. Back then, going barefoot would have been a no-brainer. But things change; they always do.
Heather buried her feet deep in the sand. It was still warm. But definitely not the hot, summer sand that was on this beach just a short month ago. Even so, Heather still appreciated the calming sensation she felt as the tiny grains moved in and out and in-between her toes.
Hearing the waves crash slowly into the beach, Heather turned her attention towards the water. Below her, the warm sand quickly became wet and cold and looking back she could see her footprints in the sand.
She approached the water’s edge, allowing her feet to hit the small waves of water rolling up on the beach. The initial sting of the ice, cold water caused her to flinch, so she pulled back. She decided that it was now or never so she gritted her teeth and walked out ankle deep into the water, making sure not to allow the water to reach her sores.
Heather stood there for a few minutes with her feet imbedded in the thick, wet sand. The sea was cold, but it felt good. The sensation reminded her of the autumn trips to the lake with her grandparents. Every year her grandpa took the family on a short vacation to celebrate the end of another year of the air show. She had no worries back then, no real pressing issues. All she had to do was...have fun.
Realizing that her teeth were starting to chatter and her wounds starting to sting from the open air, Heather shuddered and walked back out of the water; once again resting her feet down in the warmer sand. She sat down on the driest patch of sand she could find and took off her bombardier’s jacket. Laying it over her legs and feet, she started to bask in what little warmth the October sun still had to offer. Her gaze went deeply into the jacket; another reminder of her grandpa, her childhood, her past. She missed him. She missed the carefree days of youth.
Over the past ten months she had been through a lot. Sitting at the ocean's edge, Heather began to recall the path she had traveled. She still remembers the butterflies she had the first day she came to Paragon City. The pride she felt when she became one of its heroes and joined the elite United Sentinels of America. The pain she endured dealing with her torture and loss of her arm. The adjustments she needed to make when her arm was restored to her and the long road of recovery she took in order to exorcise her demons. And of course, there were her legs; the discomfort of her wounds a constant reminder of the choices she chose to make. Would she ever escape the past?
Before she could dwell on that too long, pictures of all the friends that she had made in this city flashed through her mind. They had all stood by her so lovingly through everything. There to pick her up. There to wipe her tears. There to help her stand. And Jack, yes Jack. The reason she kept on going. Her strong, silent protector. Her hope, her dreams, her life. Her first and only love. Yet, she wasn't even sure if he could provide the answer to her questions...
Sitting on the sand, Heather took a deep breath. Gripping two handfuls of sand, she attempted to fight back the tears that were slowly falling down her cheeks. Far cry was these experiences from the days growing up in Ohio. Things weren't so simple now.
Yet, she had no regrets. She wouldn’t have traded any one of her experiences, good or bad, for chance at a “do-over”. Everything had happened for a reason. All of it made her into the person she had become.
Still, the question whether this life was a life she still wanted for herself remained unanswered and simply opened up the door to more confusion. Was it once a hero, always a hero? Did she always have to put aside her "personal life" in order to serve and protect the lives of those she doesn't even know? Discarding her hopes and dreams in life, marriage, family, future?
Before she could ponder too much more, she heard a woman yelling, “Help me! Help me!”
Heather quickly got up, shaking off the sand and slipping her feet into her rocket boots. Not even bothering with her socks, she winced as sand made its way into her sores, but that would be something she would have to deal with later. Throwing on her bombadier's jacket, she pressed the relay buttons on her gloves and fired up mini-rocket engines. This time the sand below her was sent spraying into the air as she shot into the sky to search for the source of the desperate cries.
While up high above the buildings of the boardwalk, she spotted a young woman backed into a corner in the alley below. She was surrounded by three aptly named Freaks, who obviously had horrible intentions for their defenseless prey.
Heather jetted right down the alleyway and timed her landing perfectly, so that she was in between the poor woman and her attackers. When the dust had settled, the young woman, whose eye shadow was running down her neck by now, leapt straight into Heather’s arms.
“Thank you. Thank you so much!” cried the young woman. Heather held her tight in her arms and patted her back. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay Sweetie.” Heather remembered her friends doing the same thing for her on so many occasions, actually too many times to count.
Heather helped the young woman take a seat on the ledge near the alley and then took a quick survey of the area. She focused her attention to the still unconscious Freaks littered in the alley amongst the garbage cans. Taking her comm unit off her utility belt, she dialed up the P.P.D. for a wagon to head out and pick up the thugs she just apprehended.
Although she was still in a state of shock, the girl wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at Heather closely. “You’re. Hey you’re…”
“…Lady Bombardier.” Heather finished her sentence with a smile and wink. She was Lady Bombardier. She was a hero. It was her calling. It is her calling. It always will be her calling, right?
