Author's note:
This is version 3. I went back once to edit inconsistencies/continuity errors and really embarrassing editing mistakes, and now I've edited it so I don't have to retcon later on. I wrote the first of these purely as a one-off satire, then it grew while I wasn't looking. I've now worked out the rules of the world properly, so here's another edit.
Original note:
This is what happens when you let characters develop a personality, get together and start making little stories. I never intended the original story to have one sequel, let alone three. Which also means that the backstory just evolves all the time and there may be continuity errors building up. Oh well, characters can get like that.
This took me a long time to write because it took me a long time to tie together three distinct threads, and then decide one of them would wait until another story to be dealt with and resolved.
Ultimately, I resolved it in one of the oldest of writing techniques: Be cruel, brutally so, to your characters.
Now: This is a parody. It is a spoof. It is, not to beat about the bush, written in a spirit of sarcasm, mockery and gleeful parody. It has evolved and become more serious with the passage of time, but anybody who was expecting a conventional superhero story will be disappointed.
It also contains what I hope are some running threads of titillation and some hot sex, with vacuum pumps and electricity and Really Big Things.
I just don't want you thinking I'm being serious about the traditional "super" genre, that's all.
Also: if you haven't read the rest of the series, this probably won't make the slightest sense to you. This really is a serial, not independent stories set in the same universe.
As always—I welcome feedback, positive or constructively negative, in the comments below or anonymously. Also pictures of adoring female fans who want a character based upon them.
Now grab some popcorn and tissues, and enjoy.
#
After a week, the only thing Sable could complain about was the loneliness.
The flying luxury yacht given to her by the Engineer was working perfectly, and continued to give her perfectly prepared foods and drinks, strong and hot showers, any music she could ask for (it had a remarkably up-to-date catalogue, which bothered her) and any style of massage she had ever heard of.
There were also the two gymnasiums (why two? Did he expect to run back and forth between two captives? Probably best not to know the answer to that) but, frankly, she hadn't felt horny enough yet. The loneliness was dampening her libido.
The computer, although it knew how to be charming, solicitous, flirtatious and downright dirty as well as helpful and efficient, was just no match for human company.
Not, she sometimes thought darkly, that she had met many humans since becoming Sable. One, in fact, and she wasn't quite sure about him.
She had found four more cities in that time. The first one had looked so bright and sappy on the long-range scan she had gone straight past.
The second was grimy, full of hard-bitten men and distrustful, hard women and overworked, bitter Heroes. She had given it a miss as well.
The third had been so paramilitary it was a fort, but the Engineer's handiwork had slipped undetected past its surveillance equipment with ease.
The yacht was now parked outside the fourth city, and she was planning her entrance. It seemed to be average, not overly aggressive or charming, if anything slightly less violent than she had become used to. She had seen a few battles at long range and the range of powers appeared to be interesting and not worrying.
She didn't trust anything, but she had to draw a line somewhere and this would be it.
She dressed with care, not wanting to reveal her uniform but not wanting to leave herself entirely without the option.
She compromised on a cut-down leotard version, still with what she now thought of as her trademark corset, that served as panties (barely) and bra (even more barely) but allowed her to wear a range of normal clothes without revealing her identity.
Tights, an above-the-knee skirt, nearly sensible boots with high heels, a white blouse and a charcoal grey jacket built up the picture of a businesswoman who could walk into offices and demand appointments. She almost wore glasses, but decided that would be overkill.
She found a slim briefcase able to conceal a full version of her costume (a clever trick, that) and some useful accessories. She was almost sorry there were no sedative-dispensing rings or one-shot 9mm pens on board.
She parked as close to the city as she dared, put on a long, waterproof and stain-resistant coat to keep her civvies presentable then, as dawn broke, flew low, skimming the grass, into a train station on the city's outskirts.
She looked slightly out of place among the early-morning commuters, but not enough to be a problem.
The route she had chosen took her through residential suburbs, shopping malls and parkland before getting into the business district—areas not likely to be either targets or headquarters. She wanted to get a feel for the place first.
A busy café opposite the train station provided a decent croissant and promising coffee and she hadn't been harassed, propositioned or pan handled once yet.
A brisk walk through the central park gave her no causes for concern or niggling feelings of wrongness, so the obvious thing would be to go into a big and frequently robbed bank and find some reason to justify her presence and linger.
There were queues everywhere, which was handy, so she found a bench along the wall, pulled some notes out of her briefcase and began appearing to scan them while scanning the bank out of the corner of her eye.
Part of her brain was giving it a thorough tactical assessment (doors there, there and there, vault through there, security cameras there, there, ...) While part was scanning for social cues and hints of anything unusual or likely to trip her up.
She appeared to be the only one wearing grey, which bothered her slightly—most women in similar outfits chose tans or pastels. But nobody had looked at her askance or even obliquely, so...
"Can I help you, madam?"
Ah. That would be the officious security guard.
She folded her papers with a brisk snap, looked him straight in the eye and said "I hope so. I wish to make enquiries regarding your bank's investment products."
The guard pointed with all his fingers held flat, indicating somewhere on the other side of the cavernous building. "If madam wishes to go..."
And then the doors exploded inwards, which was excellent timing.
She screamed and hit the ground, trying to hide under the bench. She wanted to avoid revealing her hand until she knew who all the other players were.
The bank filled with a billowing cloud of dust and grit, ricocheting pieces of masonry and wood splinters and a crackling, jagged bolt of blue lightning that struck the security guard in the act of drawing and aiming, throwing him five metres backwards into a pillar.
Two came in, one high and one low, the woman up high dressed in a suit of black and electric dark blue, the design so jagged it was difficult for the eye to work out what her limbs were doing or even which end was her head.
The man down low was solid, his hands slightly too large and clenched into fists, his costume black with streaks of yellow, a Spartan helmet covering the top and sides of his head.
He moved at a run as the woman soared up, striking two more security guards with her bolts and then exploding the door into the vault.
Neither said anything amid the screams of terror and pain from the bank customers and employees. The man went straight through the counters, tellers scattering in front of him like sheep, and straight through a dividing wall into the back. He was accelerating as he approached where the vault should be, and Sable didn't expect the door to be up to the challenge.
Her senses and instincts were screaming at her to help the wounded and stop the criminals, and she had to curl her fingers into the floor, splintering the slate tiles, to stop herself.
Any minute ...
A window up high shattered, a bolt of pure white streaked towards the woman in blue, who dodged wildly, the bolt exploding a pillar with an actinic flair but no apparent debris.
That would be the cavalry, then.
The woman in blue dived low, heading at first for a side door but, at the last minute, dodging another white bolt before following her compatriot towards the vault.
Sable expected them to be making their own way out the back. A distant booming/crashing noise seemed to confirm that theory.
A crashing sound heralded the arrival of a Hero through the remains of the front door, and a sparkle of light announced a Heroine through an ex-window. Sable could see a pattern developing.
With the Villains gone and the Heroes arrived, order began to be re-established quickly.
Sable got up quietly, avoiding notice, grabbed her briefcase (which had survived apparently unscathed, she was pleased to note) and made a show of stumbling, coughing and shaking, out the door.
A policewoman hurrying in saw her, changed direction and then the growing look of professional concern on her face changed to horror as she recoiled.
Startled, Sable followed the officer's eyes to her midriff. Her jacket was open, her blouse had been torn and the ribbed black corset midriff of her leotard costume was showing.
"Ah," she said, brightly, "the thing is..."
The officer pulled her gun and began shouting for help.
Sable had too much experience by now to try and reason with her. Hoping her civvies would be enough to hide her identity when she officially came out, and berating herself for not wearing those glasses, she launched herself sideways, around the building, heading for alleyways and less crowded areas.
A shield thrown up behind her by sheer reflex absorbed the impact of several bullets as she jinked wildly around the corner, tucked up like a skydiver and still accelerating, as a crash far above her telegraphed the female Hero joining the fight.
She threw a shield above her, hoping it would make her difficult to spot as well as hit, and was nearly driven into the ground when it absorbed the impact of an actinic bolt.
The end of the alleyway came onto a deserted street filled with rubble from the Villain's escape. She headed away from the rubble, throwing a second shield far behind her, trying to offer the Hero a choice of two to follow.
By sheer good luck the ruse worked and she slipped to ground behind a rubbish bin as she let her shield dissipate, keeping the other one going as long as she could.
"Quick, in here!"
She nearly jumped to the top of the building opposite.
