Hamolton Park, Newburgh, Nebraska
One Week after Invasion

To many the site before us today would be, indeed, very strange. That could be because not many of us are used to seeing an alien spacecraft in the middle of Hamilton Park in Newburgh city, Nebraska.

It was very large; standing about three stories tall and its shape seemed reminiscent of a bell. It was covered in a gold-colored substance and on its side was painted the word ‘BELLE’. The name however did not come with the ship. It came from the boy who, at the time, was one of the most recognizable people in the world. At least, he was when he had his mask on.

The papers dubbed him Ironclad, mainly because he covered himself in armor. His armor was complimented by his roller-skates and a mask that seemed to be a meld of a bicycle helmet and a hockey mask. He and a hand full of others were famous for repelling a recent alien invasion. He had landed his ship (witch he had gained during the invasion) in the park so that him and the heroes that fought with him could have it inspected by a government official. It would have to be approved in order to have it declared as the headquarters of their new team and maybe get some government funding.

Mostly, Ironclad was looking forward to the possibility of funding mainly because he had many plans for his armor that he couldn’t exactly afford with his bagboy’s salary. So, with the promise of new gizmos to drive him he was cleaning up the outside of The Belle.

As he was racking his brains on how to remove laser burns he was greeted by one of the other members of the team.

“I heard grape soda is good for that stuff.” Ironclad knew who it was the moment he heard her. They called her ‘Psych’; she was the youngest member of the team, only about 13 years old. The first thing you would notice about her were her eyes, they had a crazed look to them and where almost hypnotic. It seemed like she could see right though you. Her less-than-sane look was accompanied by her manor of dress. A straight jacket who’s sleeves where ripped and ragged, a pair of lose pants, like the kind doctors wear, and to top it all off, on her feet staring right up at you were a pair of bunny slippers.

“Ya know Psych, I think I’m gonna keep it. Gives her class, shows we can take whatever anyone throws at us”

“It also shows we’re slobs”

“Truth in advertising, Psych, truth in advertising”

“Government’s man ain’t gonna like it.” She replied well too quiet for anyone to hear. She knew that if the team was not approved they would take her away, put her back in her little cell in the base.

She sat there on the floor of her cell, the psychonic dampener on her head and the straight jacket wrapped tight around her. The precautions were not without reason; the straight jacket was to prevent her from using her mastery of unarmed combat and she had been trained to use her physic abilities to their fullest extent. The dampener could only stop her telekinetic abilities, leaving her telepathy only somewhat free. Because of this, even though she was in a cell 50 ft under a base that didn’t officially exist, she knew something was wrong.

She could hear all the solders worried thoughts; ‘Will my family be alright’ ‘why are they coming here?’ ‘What are they planning to do?’ Then amidst the chaos of thoughts came one speaking directly to her. It was warm and familiar to her but at the time it sounded very worried.

“Sylvie? I know you can hear me, as you probably know, something really big is about to go down. We’ve picked up several hostile spacecrafts moving towards a city, Newburgh, not far from here. As far as we can tell, they plan on localizing their attack there. We’re not sure why, but we know that they don’t want any capes around. They’re probably going to find some way to isolate the area. I need you to go there, gather up every Meta-human you can find, and keep them there. There are some unguarded jeeps in the north parking lot. Your medicine will be there in less than one minute. I’m counting on you Sylvie”

She took the few seconds she had to try and work out the details of her mission. She had served other missions before, steal the microfilm, get the weapon plans, erase the spy’s memory, but she knew this one was different. The same man who always gave her missions had given this on, but this time he did not want any one to know he was involved in any way.

The instant she had gotten some of the finer details worked out the door to her cell opened and in came an armed M.P. with the medication that would keep her under their control. He brought the small paper cup up to her mouth, expecting this to be like every other day, but she then turned her head away and grinned at him playfully. She could clearly tell he was not in the mood for games. He grabbed the psychonic dampener that was strapped securely to her head. She squirmed free and ran, giggling into the corner and pretended to be hiding. That was the last straw; the solder then marched over and once again grabbed the helmet tightly. Just tight enough so that with a quick movement of her neck the straps keeping the device on snapped. It took him half a second to realize the magnitude of what just happened. That was half a second to long. Before he could even think about reacting, he was knocked unconscious by a bolt of mental energy. Soon she was standing over him and carefully with her foot she removed the knife on his belt and cut the sleeves of her jacket.

After that it was easy the take out the guards at the door and in the halls. But then, just as she was going down the hall that led out side, she made a quick detour. After going up a few stairs she reached an office. After opening the door she used her powers to rip the security camera out of the wall. It was only then that she turned her attention to the man that had contacted her just a few minutes earlier. He was a somewhat stocky man whose entire demeanor screamed that he had bee in the military all his life.

“Good job Sylvie,” he said, “the invasion should start at about 5:15 tomorrow so you’re going to have to hurry, and keep in mind I’ll have to try and find you before then, so I want you to be on the top of your game. The meta-tracker prototype is in my desk. Do you understand your orders”

“Yes, sir”

“Good luck Sylvie”

“Thank you, Daddy.” She muttered, and then used her powers to slam him into the bookcase behind him. After she had grabbed the meta-tracker she broke the glass in the window and jumped. By the time she was in the parking lot the base alarm had sounded. She had the jeep hot wired just as the M.P.s came out to stop her, the other jeeps sabotaged before they were with in 50 feet and she was on the road by the time they reached the other jeeps.

She flicked on the tracker and could see three meta-humans near Newburgh. She knew her orders and was ready to carry them out. But most importantly she knew what would happen if she failed.