Freedom: Another Dream by Lynceus All I had ever wanted was to become a woman; surgery and drugs had given me the form, but there was one thing I wanted so desperately, I'd do anything to get it. And then I met Dr. Deidre Wentworth...

A Tale of the Comics Retcon Universe!: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/20577/comics-retcon-universe

Prologue: The Mysterious Y-Women!

You know, when I look back at my life, it's funny how one decision leads to another. I mean, I never intended to become a hero. Don't get me wrong, I loved comics when I was younger. My favorite, although it took me a long time to figure out why it was my favorite, was Lee Stone's Mysterious Y-Women. Now at the time when I started reading it, it was pretty controversial stuff.

In retrospect, I think Ms. Stone was simply ahead of her time. Back in the late 60's, I imagine it was hard to be a woman who read comics, let alone wrote them! But the things her and Jackie King created were nothing short of incredible. At first, they didn't reveal that they were women, but used masculine-sounding pseudonyms.

It wasn't until their comics hit the world by storm that they 'came out', so to speak. Anyways, the Y-Women. It all started when a scientist named Dr. Charlemagne discovered his amazing formula, that could unlock the hidden powers all men possess. “Inside each of us, is another person, another being, who possesses talents and abilities none of us could ever imagine!”

Of course, like all great scientists, Dr. Charlemagne couldn't test this stuff out on anyone, no, he chose himself. The formula killed the man known as Dr. Charlemagne, but then, an amazing transformation occurred! Like alchemy, the formula transmuted Dr. C's body...and from man, was born a woman!

Specifically, a young girl who called herself Charlotte. She possessed all of Dr. C's memories, but considered herself an entirely different person. Due to some imperfection in the formula, however, her legs were weak, unable to support her weight.

Thus, in her early appearances, she sat in a wheelchair. It wasn't until the 80's that she underwent intense physical therapy to let her walk (although even then, she required a cane), but...that's another story.

Anyways, Dr. Charlotte was a strange character. She had this really long, I mean super-long hair that she was always fussing with. It looked great, but she had to spend so much time dealing with it (trust me, long hair is high maintenance!) that I always wondered why she didn't cut it.

It wasn't revealed until much later that her beautiful Titian hair wasn't really hair at all; it looked and felt like hair, but each strand was actually a sort of nerve ending that extended from her brain, allowing her to perceive the world around her in ways no man could ever know! In fact, it turned out that those 'piercing stormy grey eyes' of hers were actually blind! In addition to her incredible sensitivity to her environment, Dr. Charlotte was a 'counterpath'. She had incredible telepathic abilities, but they only functioned when she was subject to a mental attack or contact with another; she lacked the ability to open a psionic channel into another mind. But look out if someone attempted to open a pathway into her mind! Once they revealed the truth about her 'hair', it was discovered that she could use her telepathy on anyone who touched her hair with their skin.

So yeah, very offbeat character, but because of all the increased sensory input, she came off as tripped-out of her mind, but incredibly wise, drawing some unfair comparisons to the Free Love movement. (Ms. Stone admitted in later years that she had indeed based Charlotte on a young woman she met on a college campus, who serenely watched over a flock of stoned out-of-their minds young people while handing out flowers).

Anyways, Dr. C would go around recruiting great men who were nearing the end of their lives, who were reborn as young women possessed of bizarre powers...and thus the Y-Women were born! The Y stood for the Y-chromosome, indicating that each of these young women was once a man. It wasn't until the mid-90's that it was revealed all of the Y-Women were still chemically male, and unable to have children, a revelation that caused one team member, Beatrix, to attempt suicide, as she had always longed to become a mother.

Powerful stuff, I know. I always felt sorry for Beatrix, she was usually the one team member who had the hardest time fitting in. Reborn from a genius-level chemist, she had this strange blue hair, and came off as the slowest team member, mentally, as well as being physically the smallest (when Dr. Charlotte started to walk, despite being frozen at the age of 12 since her rebirth, it was revealed that she was actually an inch taller than Beatrix!). The other team members would often poke fun at how much of a clutz Beatrix was, and she was constantly fumbling or tripping.

It wasn't until I was older that I got it though. Beatrix was simply the most feminine of all the Y-Women. She had tiny hands and feet, and she was very petite. Ms. Stone created her to exemplify all the traits women were expected to have at the time.

Traits that made her seem useless for being a hero! Even during the 90's, when all women were drawn with tiny waists and large breasts, Beatrix remained somewhat feminine. You might wonder why they kept her on the team at all, but Beatrix had the power to bring a creature from her nightmares to life, a powerful, bestial savage woman called 'Beastrix'. Beastrix was basically the opposite of what women were supposed to be like. She was tall, and powerfully-built, physically aggressive, and didn't care about her appearance much (that didn't really hide the fact that she was really hot, and basically ran around in a bikini to fight bad guys)!

Beastrix was, bizarrely enough, a fan favorite, to the point that they toyed around in the late 80's of having Beastrix become her own character, rather than be summoned by a total girly girl. But without the counterpoint of the kind, gentle Beatrix, the character fell sort of flat. Like a female Sabertooth or something.

So why am I going on about obscure comics history? Well, it was the Y-Women who made me realize that I wanted to be a woman. When I was growing up, guys were expected to act like, you know, guys. But where my friends were all buff and muscled, I had a slender build, more like a dancer, I guess.

Although I could outrun any of them in track. I guess that's how I escaped being picked-on for being 'gay' or, as much as I hate the word, a 'fag'. God! Just thinking about the way other kids like me got treated! But no, I was an athlete, a borderline-Jock myself, so as long as I kept my mouth shut, they wouldn't bother me. The fact that I was also on the soccer team didn't hurt either.

But the truth was, I did have a feminine build, and delicate features. The girls called me cute, but they had no idea. When I turned 18, I moved out of the house, so I could work my way through college. My family would never understand me, and I grew tired of Dad's homophobia.

It was around this time that I finally did it. Oh I'd fantasized about it, but I never dared to, for risk of being caught. I started to wear my hair long. With just a little styling, some makeup, and the right clothes, I wasn't Cash Webster any longer.
I was Cathy, and I was beautiful. Oh sure, maybe I had no breasts to speak of, but that didn't matter. The girls all treated me like a little sister, and the guys were fascinated by this cute girl who could talk comics and movies (and beat any one of them at Street Fighter).

This was the life I wanted! Unfortunately, I had a choice. School or becoming the real me. So I was forced to put off college. I worked long hours, and rarely had time to be myself. Trapped in this cursed male body. If only there was a real Dr. Charlotte; I would give up this life in a heartbeat. But somehow, I did it. I barely ate, I barely slept, but I began taking hormones and estrogen and any other weird chemical the Doc gave me.

I started growing small breasts, which I had to tape down at work (and wear two shirts, which got HOT as hell during the summer!). My waist seemed to narrow, my hips widened. And finally, I was able to fly to Europe, where they surgically reconstructed my genitalia.

I changed my name legally, and Cathy Webster was truly born.

Now, being a post-op transsexual isn't all fun and games. Sure, I looked the part (although I did have some faint scars that were hard to explain), but I wasn't really a woman. And I never would be. This would be the best I could ever hope for.

Don't get me wrong, I know a lot of people who would kill to be like me. Any time I met with others like myself, they always seemed awed by my presence. Like I was some kind of transsexual Goddess. Heh. Little did they know how intensely I still envied real women.

So I started college later than most. I still looked young, but I knew it would be years before I had the degree I wanted. When I could finally start living my true life, would I be young enough to enjoy it? God, I sound so shallow and superficial. I'm not, really. I just worry about stuff that doesn't matter.

When the whole metagene thing was announced by Earth's first superhero (superheroine, excuse me), the mysterious (and very hot) Jade, there was a lot of buzz, especially when the rumors about transgendered heroines started to fly. It so wasn't fair! Somewhere out there, some kid will get the body I always wanted, just for winning some genetic lottery?

Which is how I fell in with Dr. Deidre Wentworth.

Chapter One: How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Being a grad student when you're a few years older than the others is no picnic. I busted my ass, and I was starting to get kind of waifish-looking. I mean, I was still really active; I ran every morning, I worked out, and there was my martial arts class at night, but I was really running myself ragged.

I needed extra credit, and I needed it bad. So when the Summer Semester started, I tried to get an internship. A new teacher had recently joined the college, a tall, Nordic-looking blonde named Deidre Wentworth. She was really tall, over 6', and she didn't hide her physique, she flaunted her well-toned muscles. And I had to admit, she was beautiful.

She also looked pretty darned young to be a teacher, but hey, I wasn't going to hold that against her. Dr. Wentworth had a few problems though. First of all, she was a total misandrist. She had little use for men, and she didn't bother candy-coating it.
Second of all, she was openly lesbian, and while she never hit on her students, the girls were always kind of weirded-out by her interest. So, as you can tell, there weren't many people willing to work for her.

I still remember the day she looked me up and down (all 5' 6” of me). “You're pretty enough, but I don't think you have the strength for this job, why should I choose you?”

I didn't care for her tone one bit. “Strength, or courage?”

She blinked. “What?”

“What would you rather have, strength, or courage? Because maybe I'm not as strong as you, but you don't intimidate me.”

She gave me a long glance. “And what have you done that is so courageous?”

“I'm a post-op transsexual asking a man-hating she-bitch for a job.”

To my shock, her features seemed to soften, and there was something unreadable in her eyes. “Your surgeon does excellent work, I never would have guessed.”

“I'll make sure to send him your regards. The job?”

She laughed then. “Oh yes, you have the job. You remind me of someone...I used to work with. Everyone thought he was weak, but he turned out to be the strongest man I ever met.” She sighed. “Very well, when can you start?”

“Right now.”

-

Somehow, we got along pretty well. Apparently there were some men she could tolerate, she just hated the way most of them were programmed to behave. “I mean, it's not as if we are inferior to them in any meaningful way. Yes, men tend to be taller and can build muscle easier, but physical strength isn't everything.”

I snorted. “Says the valkyrie. Pull the other one.”

She laughed. “Oh Cathy, you're a treasure. I only wish Damon could have met you.” She sighed.

“Damon?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Never you mind. Now, where was I?”

“Women being superior to men in every way, I imagine.”

She shook her head. “Am I really that bad?”

“Pretty much.”

She sighed. “No wonder I'm not very popular. Tell me something, Cathy. If you were offered a magic potion to make you strong, would you take it?”

I had a strange flashback to my comics-reading days. “Actually...” My voice choked up.

“Cathy? What's wrong?”

“You're my friend, right? We've gotten past the whole evil boss/cute employee thing?”

She put her hand on my shoulder. “Of course we're friends. I don't have many, you know.”

I tried to smile, but I shook my head. “If you're peddling potions...I'd rather have one that could turn me into a real woman.”

She blinked. “Cathy, you're one of the proudest examples of womanhood I've had the pleasure of knowing.”

“But I'm not! Even with all the drugs, and the surgery, I'm not! I'm just pretending, it's a lie....” I trailed off.

“Cathy. It's not as if there are any real differences between us. No PMS, for one. Well, maybe the sex would be better...”

“I don't.”

“What?”

“I don't have sex. I can't really explain the scars.”

“I didn't know. I'm sorry. But if not sex then...” And her eyes got very wide. “Oh Cathy...how could I be so blind?”

I shrugged.

“You want to be a mother.”

“It's a thing I can never know. To feel a life growing inside me. Something that's a part of me, but isn't. I'd do so much for that...”

Her eyes seemed to flash. “What if I told you that there was a way? And I'm not teasing you, there is.”

“What? But how?”

“I didn't always look like I do now. Would you believe that I'm 38?”

I goggled at her. “No way!”

She smiled. “Yes way. My real name is Amy Zhan.”

“Wait...the biochemist? The one that died?”

She nodded. “Except that I didn't die. Dr. Zeul and I, we created a compound that could enhance physical strength. And I improved on it. I created something that could give women a true equalizer. Look at me! Youth, beauty, height, strength...I am superior to any man. And I'll tell you something else...this is just the beginning.”

“But would it...would it make me a woman?”

She smiled. “Yes. Yes it would.”

“Please, I'll do anything. Anything!” She had me.

One blood test later, and her smile was all the answer I needed.

-

So the next few weeks were spent taking her 'mutagenic compound'. At night, I would sleep in a special deprivation chamber. Deidre...Amy...had told me that I tested positive for the metagene. Of course, I knew damn well that there is no test for it that works yet, and I told her so.

“You would be surprised, Cathy. I didn't think it was possible either, until I was shown the notes of Dr. Josef Reinstein. Highly classified, of course.”

“And you got those, how?”

She frowned. “I made mistakes, which is why I had to pretend to be dead, and take on a new identity. One of those mistakes was going to a man for funding.”

“That man being...?”

“Lex Luthor.”

I sucked in a breath. “You really did make a deal with The Devil, hon. He's everything you hate!”

She nodded.

I snapped my fingers. “Hey! Those valet girls he's always with...your formula gave them those amazon bodies!”

“Yes! He stole my work outright. But he will pay...”

Sometimes, the Doc got scary. I let that one go.

-

I started to grow taller. My muscles became more pronounced, my weight skyrocketed as my body became more dense. I was having strange dreams, but I chalked that up to sensory deprivation. I had so much energy now! I worked out constantly.

And the most amazing changes of all were going on inside of me. My scars faded, and my faux-vagina became incredibly sensitive. I started getting aroused a lot more often. My breasts grew larger as well. I was starting to resemble a young model who was serious about physical fitness!

And by young, I swear, I had the body of an 18 year-old! I had to work out constantly to burn off excess energy, and I ate like a damn horse!

“We're nearing the final phase. I wish I could have gotten more growth and muscle on your frame, but I think this is about your peak level. Tonight, I'll administer the Herakles and some adrenaline so we can try to awaken your metagene fully; what I've done so far is only a fraction of your true potential.”

“A fraction? God, I feel more like a woman all the time!”

“When this is over, there will be no difference between you and someone who was born female. I promise.”

I was so excited I felt giddy!

-

“So Herakles, I thought you said that was the basis of your Athena to begin with?”

“Yes, but I realized I had gone about things a bit backwards. We developed it first, so I took it first, before Athena. But if it was done in the reverse order...I think the effects will be much more dramatic.”

“Let's do this!”

She injected me with the serum, and then adrenaline...right in the heart, ow! My heart was about to pound out of my rib cage, I felt like I was going into arrest! I was going to die...oh fuck...

“I am sorry, Cathy. But one day, you will thank me.” She got out a taser and she shocked me...and everything went...

Chapter Two: In Woman We Trust

“Jade, I need a sitrep.” The young woman known as American Dream raced down the crowded street on her monster bike.

“Looks like a hostage situation, some kind of female supremacist group, if you can believe it.”

Courtney blinked. “Oh for the love of...please tell me they're not called Valkyries or something?”

“Dies Walkure, actually. Day of the Valkyrie.”

“I told you not to tell me that! So ok, women with guns?”

“And some kind of nonlethal nerve gas.”

Dream groaned. “Great. Girls with guns and nerve toxin. What's your ETA?”

“About ten minutes, I swear though, if you can buy me that much time, I have an atom bomb with me.”

The young woman smiled to herself. “You mean there's something scarier than you around?”

“I'm not scary...am I?”

“Hold that thought, I'm going to engage in nine seconds.”

“Good luck, Dream.”

-

A busload of college football players. As choices of hostages go, that wouldn't be Dream's first choice. They had used the bus to form a barricade, blocking the entrance to the subterranean parking garage. The police had already been notified to make an opening for her. The bike would take some damage, but Uncle Sam owed her quite a bit, so...as long as it got the job done!

Dream cut sharply to the right, the bike skidding along the ground sideways, scraping away it's paint job. She leaped off just before it hit the bus, narrowly avoiding gunfire. Not that she really needed to avoid the gunfire, but old habits die hard.

Flipping in mid-air, she threw down a pair of flash-bangs, and landed on top of the bus in a crouch. Replaying the stunt in her mind, she had to admit, she made this look good!

She unslung her MP5, slid a clip into it, and switched of the safety. She hated using lethal force, but these women were armed with Soviet bloc stuff. AK-74's, mostly. She lay down some suppressing fire, and the women (mostly college age, if you can believe it) took cover.

She wasn't sure how she was going to move the bus, they had damaged the tires and probably ruined the engine block. Just then, she heard the tumble of an object landing on the roof, and only her metahuman reflexes allowed Dream to react fast enough to kick the grenade off the bus!

“Jade...where are you?!”

“Look up!”

Courtney did, and to her suprise, saw Jade carrying a stunning redhead. Who she then dropped. To Dream's amazement, the redhead grew as she fell, and when she landed on the street, her body cracked the concrete with such force that a shockwave knocked all of the terrorists on their derrieres!

Dream had trouble standing, even with her agility, but then a green light struck her, and she was floated safely to the ground. “You weren't kidding about the atom bomb! So that's Giganta?”
Jade used her ring to disarm the women. “Oh yeah. Doris, think you can move that bus?”

Giganta swelled to the height of a four story building and crackled her knuckles. “No problem, Boss!”

She grabbed the bus, the frame twisting in protest, and casually shoved it to the side, revealing the entrance to the parking garage. There was a sign saying MAX HEADROOM 12'. “Oh doesn't that figure.”

She shrank down to about a fourth of her current height. “This is the best I can do, Jade.”

“It'll do just fine, Doris. Let's do this!”

-

The three heroines knew they were heading into a trap, but what choice did they have? Still, only years of intense combat experience gave Dream the warning. “Move!”

A grenade launcher fired a canister of rapidly-spreading greyish mist in their direction; while Giganta and Dream moved aside, Jade held her ground, a green light from her ring surrounding the mist in a translucent emerald bubble. Gas will be neutralized in 13.6 seconds.

“Jeez, thanks for the update...stupid ring...”

Dream didn't wait to listen to Jade's complaining; she'd worked with the Green Lantern before, as much as she grouched, she was very competent. She moved ahead, Giganta keeping up with her easily with her longer strides.

A woman dressed like some kind of Norse warrior stepped into view. She was tall, over 6', with short blonde hair, and striking features. She carried a very large axe as well. “You have done well to come this far, but you will go no further!”

Giganta gasped. “Amy?!”

The woman frowned. “...do I know you?”

“But...you died, I saw it!”

The neo-valkyrie's eyes widened. “No...it can't be...Damon?!”

“Sorry ladies, this isn't a good time for a reunion.” Dream pulled her Colt out of it's holster and aimed it at the woman's head. “Put the axe down, or else.”

The tall woman chuckled. “The American Dream. The government's feeble attempt to improve on my work! Well, prepare yourself to meet....Miss America!”

A woman stepped into view. She was wearing a blue bodysuit with a star emblem on the chest, red gauntlets, and red and white stripes along her midsection. Dream noted idly that unlike her costume, this one covered almost all of the woman's body. Her cowl had a large white 'A' on the forehead, and she was carrying a large, disc-shaped shield. Dream raised an eyebrow? "A shield? Really?"

Dream fired at the woman, who casually ducked into a crouch, using the shield as cover. The bullets bounced off as if the thing was a piece of tank armor; the red and white paint on it's surface wasn't even scratched! Then, in a fluid motion, the woman tossed her shield like a discus, and Dream could barely roll to the side to avoid it! Ok, maybe I shouldn't have insulted her weapon choice!

“Miss America. She is better than you. Stronger, more mature. And unlike you, a real woman, not some piece of dressed-up jailbait!”

“Amy, you're seriously twisted.” Giganta threw a punch at 'Amy', who barely blocked with her axe. The handle of the axe, despite being metal, bent in response to Giganta's blow, even as the cement beneath her cracked.

That's right, Giganta could increase her density. Useful, that. 'Miss America' charged Courtney, who casually picked up the woman's shield and threw it at her. “Here, you dropped this!”

Stupid, I could have shot her when she didn't have the cover...I must be getting soft!

Miss America grabbed her shield in mid-air, and reversed it's momentum with such speed that Dream couldn't dodge, it hit her in the shoulder, and it immediately went numb. No joke, this woman was really strong!

But Courtney wasn't done yet, ignoring the pain with gritted teeth, she raised the gun. “Take another step, Missy, and I'll put a bullet right through that big A of yours.”

Meanwhile, 'Amy' was wrestling with the taller Giganta; it was evident that while she wasn't as strong as the giantess, she was a much better fighter, and got some savage blows in. Dream couldn't be sure how hurt Giganta really was, but she couldn't move to help.

She had to think of something! “Whoever you are, is this really what you want to be? A lackey for a terrorist? If you really believe in America, you'd be helping us!”

The woman looked confused, uncertain. Almost like she'd been drugged...Courtney saw green light behind her. “Jade, can your ring counter mind control?!”

“That's what the tech manual says!”

“She's under some kind of hypnosis, I think!”

A green light fired out of Jade's ring, as she attempted to bolster the willpower of the young woman.

-

“What...where...” I held a hand to my head. Idly, I noticed a pair of women behind me with guns. No time to think! “Give me the shield!”

American Dream tossed the shield at me. I couldn't remember when I'd learned to use it, but it felt like an extension of my arm. How long had Deidre been controlling me while I slept? I charged forward, using the shield to block the weapons fire. I shield-bashed the first gunwoman, and threw it at the second, taking both down. Then I grabbed one of the fallen rifles.

Giganta had finally overpowered Deidre, and had her pinned to the floor. I saw Jade hovering nearby, using her ring to create a large broom, of all things, which she was using to quite literally sweep up the other women. I walked up and put the gun to Deidre's head. “You used me. You turned my dreams against me, tried to turn me into your pawn!”

“No, Sister, I freed you! This is the way it has to be!”

“Put the gun down.” Dream was at my side.

“You don't understand! All I wanted was...I didn't want this! She got into my head, made me into a terrorist!

“Yes! I did, but it was a necessary sacrifice! The metagene is the prophet! The day will come when women will rule the world, and men will become a sad footnote in history!”

Giganta sighed. “Amy...what happened to you?”

“Amy Zhan is dead. I am Superia now!”

The gun shook in my hands. “Damn you! Damn you!” I wanted to pull the trigger. I really did! But I couldn't. I wanted to be a mother...could I nurture a child inside of me, if I became a murderer?

I dropped the gun, and sank to my knees, crying. “I...I can't!”

American Dream put her arms around me. “It's ok. Everything is going to be ok.”

Chapter Three: To Live Free

Jade was kind enough to give me a lift back to my apartment, concealing my costume with her Power Ring. She promised to pick me up later, as she had to get Doris back home. I was burning to ask Giganta more questions about Deidre, but I guessed it would have to wait.

As I walked up to my door, I realized my costume didn't have pockets, or even a belt to store things. Not only was that a silly oversight, it meant I didn't have my keys. I walked up to the door. “What are the odds I left the door unlocked?”

I felt very strange for a moment, and then I turned the handle. It opened! “Weird...”

Tossing the shield on my couch, I walked into the bathroom and stripped. Wow, is not the word. I held my C-cup breasts with a big goofy smile on my face, and busted out the measuring tape. 36-26-36, my my! Even though I wasn't as buff-looking as Deidre was, I could feel the firm muscles under my skin. “Honey, you are so hot!”

I sat down on the toilet seat and cried, unable to believe that I had finally become a real woman, and a beautiful one, at that! “Ok, come on you big blubbering bitch, let's get cleaned up.”

The shower felt so good, and I marveled at how tall I was now. For the first time in recent memory I really explored my womanly parts, and if my arousal and burning face were any indications, everything was in perfect order!

My hair had grown longer, but I really didn't know what to do with it, so I just tied it back in a ponytail. I really did have a striking resemblance to American Dream, looking a lot like her older sister. I barely resembled my old self at all; I could walk up to Dad on the street and he'd probably check me out, the old bastard!

I giggled at the thought. Of course, I had nothing that really fit me, though I was loath to put the costume Deidre had made for me back on. It wasn't bad looking, I actually liked how it didn't turn me into cheesecake, but it was hot, and I had felt pretty sticky taking it off.

I rummaged in my closet until I found an oversized Seattle Seahawks shirt I usually used as evening wear; where once it had fallen to about mid-thigh, it seemed to fit me just fine now! I fit into some cutoff sweatpants I had as well, but I hoped Jade didn't mind me going sans brassiere...mine didn't fit me at all!

Shoes were out as well...my God, I was going to have to do some serious shopping! The thought excited me more than a little, although I really didn't have the money for it. It occurred to me that I wasn't going to get my extra credit either.

Then again, I looked and felt years younger, so maybe I could afford to take some time off from my grad studies? Heck, forget Biophysics, I was a superhero now, right?

I sat down and got out my pack of cards and started playing Solitaire as I thought.

Deidre...Superia...she may have turned me into a weapon. But a weapon can protect as well. She gave me a shield, not a sword. I guess she understood me better than I thought. Miss America...what a joke.

Even as she ranted about the objectification of women, she named me after a damn beauty queen? No, if I'm going to be a hero, a protector...I need to keep an open mind. America has a lot of different kinds of people. Different thoughts, different ideals. But we all hold one thing sacred.

Freedom. Freedom to choose any path in life we cared to. Superia had tried to take my Freedom away, but I vowed to never let my judgment be clouded again.

So I would be Free Spirit. I liked the sound of that.

I then noticed that I'd won every game of solitaire, which never happened. Weird. But before I could think about it more, the doorbell rang, and I knew my ride was here.

-

Flying is one of those things you just have to do in order to appreciate. The physical closeness to Jade made me realize just what an attractive woman she was, and I started feeling those crazy urges again. Urges I no longer had any real need to deny myself! Well, then again, if I was going to work with Jade, I should be professional, right? Oh man, was it hard though!

How to describe going into space? Or visiting a spacecraft parked on the moon's dark side? God, I can't. I was terrified, but also awed beyond belief. It took me a few moments to realize Jade was talking to me!

“Oh, um, sorry!” I blushed.

“It's ok, it has that effect on people. And you've had a rough day.”

Now that she mentioned it, I was feeling a bit on edge. “Ugh, maybe I should have napped or something.”

She smiled. “It's ok, why don't you go lay down for a bit, we can talk later.”

“Thank you, I'd like that.”

And so I lay down, on a bed, the thrumming engines of the starship helping me drift off to sleep. I could really get used to this...

To be continued...