There was a special kind of humiliation that came from sitting at table six in penitentiary lot C of the Anchorage Transdimensional Prison Complex -- aka, the Thunderdome. People in Lot A were kept in a transdimensional bubble surrounded by the most advanced security locks that Project Aegis could devise, borrow, buy or steal from the multiverse. Only three people had ever escaped from Lot A -- two of them had been aided by relatives or allies from outside the Thunderdome.
Lot B was where people were just kept in cells, but they were still part of this Earth. They were taken food, and only let into the yard when under very careful guard. They were people like Loki or Set or Toys R' Die, people who were strong or clever or magical, but not Ozymandias dangerous.
But then there was Lot C.
Lot C was run a lot like a regular prison. It was full of people with gimmicks and smarts but not a whole lot of power. And table six was where the lowest of the low went. Table one was where people like LoC and the Real Q sat, chatting and laughing and scheming. Table six had people like...
Beta
. Beta sighed as he looked at his meal, pondering if it would taste better if he waited longer before chowing down. Cause it sure wasn't being improved by the company.
"Oh, lookie here," Lady Deathglider said, her drawling Australian accent almost too thick to be real, her eyes transfixed on her newspaper, which was folded daintily next to her breakfast tray. "Look who just
happened
to hit the top tens of Linkara's 'worst dressed villains' list. Again. For the third year
running
." She grinned wickedly as she leaned forward on her elbows, her orange and black jumpsuit crinkling around her. Even in a shapeless prison jumpsuit, she still looked
really
freaking gorgeous: Full, plush lips, firm breasts, a body that teetered between athleticism and curvaceousness.
Things you start to notice when you get testosterone. Beta licked his chops slightly as, next to him, Dr. Insano sat and smoldered. Beta was shocked that smoke wasn't pouring from under the good doctor's mop of black hair. Dr. Insano was a gangly fellow -- easily the tallest person at the table, stork-like in proportion, with a prominent nose and eyes that, when they were visible, tended to be brooding and filled with
deep
thoughts. Pretentiously deep. But they weren't visible because he was, as of now, still wearing his cheap looking spiral goggles that looked like they had been stolen from Fisher Price.
The guards hadn't even taken them from him when they had given him his orange jumpsuit.
Lady DG grinned as she leaned even deeper on her arms. "Dr. Insano stomps around with cheap goggles, a flimsy white lab coat,
green
under shirt, leaving us with a question: Is he a supervillain or an overworked nurse..."
"I mean, uh," Hoopster said, leaning into the conversation, her voice husky. "She's got a point, do the goggles even
do
anything?"
"They're full of
science
!" Dr. Insano screeched, thrusting his finger into the air, dramatically. "And don't you
start
with me,
Hoopster
! The woman with a thousand
hoop
gimmicks! And
you
-" He thrust his finger at DG. "You throw
boomerangs
at people!"
DG sniffed, looking huffy. "They're highly advanced mobile wings armed with-"
Dr. Insano sprang to his feet. "Boomerangs! Boomerangs! Boomerangs!"
Beta put his paws over his face and sighed. "Dear Fenris, what did I ever do to get locked in here with you?"
"Robbed a bank," Hoopster said, cheerfully.
"Stole a med-truck," DG added.
"Worked for The Real Q," Dr. Insano growled. "And that was my post you stole!
Mine
! And if I had been there, then the heist would have gone off perfectly, via the almighty power of
science
!" He thrust a finger into the air.
"How, exactly?" Beta asked, rubbing his temples.
Dr. Insano opened his mouth, then closed it, then said: "With...science..."
After forcing their lunches down their collective throats, the many prisoners of Lot C were left to their own devices. A small ball game started. Some prisoners ambled to the indoor gym. Others just walked about. Beta, Dr. Insano, DG and Hoopster leaned on the only wall that they'd be allowed to lean against -- the one that got hit face first by the sun. The good walls -- the walls that provided shade -- were taken by the more impressive gangs.
"Think any of us will get any mail today?" Beta asked, his tail twitching against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.
"My niece keeps writing me," Hoopster said, cheerfully. "She's getting into the Saturnian Ring Expedition launching later this week."
DG snorted. "So, you're saying she's getting into the family business?"
"Those are
rings
. Not
hoops
," Hoopster said, sounding offended. "But the important thing is-"
Beta's ears twitched. He could hear the faint
rattle
and click of an inner gate. He looked up, his brow furrowing as the gateway leading into the prison courtyard opened. Several Project Aegis guards strode in, wearing the thick metal and plasteel armor that ended up being incredibly useless against pretty much every single threat the galaxy threw at the Earth. They carried blaster rifles and flanked a woman in a business suit. The woman was a Martian, with green skin and curved antennas, and she looked aggressively un-superheroic. She was chubby, with rounded cheeks and a kind of gently smiling face that said 'school marm' rather than 'defender of the innocent', and she wore a suit rather than a cape and cowl. She looked about herself with curious disinterest before she spotted Beta, Dr. Insano, DG and the Hoopster.
She started forward, with her guards.
"What did you do?" Beta hissed.
"Me? Nothing!" Dr. Insano squeaked. "Why do you always think it's
me
."
"Because it's
you
," Beta snarled. "I'm not getting an extra few years on my time because-"
"Hello, I wanted to-" The Martian said.
"Now!" The Hoopster shouted, flicking her wrist. Her sleeve ballooned and a small ring of metal came rolling onto her palm. It struck her crooked finger, shooting up like a wheel hitting a ramp, then flew right at the Martian. Some spin put on it by a minute flick of her wrist caused the hoop to become perpendicular to the ground before it expanded outwards with a ratcheting
clank
. It landed around the shoulders of one of the guards, tightening up, locking his arms together. The Hoopster turned to run and got blasted in the side by the three other guard's. She sprawled on the ground as DG sighed, lifting her hands.
"In my defense," she said. "I thought we would have until tonight to try and escape."
"And you didn't tell
me
!?" Dr. Insano asked, drawing a glare from Beta.
"Well...no," DG said, grinning as the guards yanked the hoop off their friend, then advanced with truncheons drawn.
***
Beta felt the Martian arrive before the door even opened into the small containment room he had been jammed into. It was the curse -- and the blessing -- of his powers. He felt his empathy and compassion unfolding, making guilt begin to squirm in his gut. But he was fairly good at ignoring that kind of thing. After all...
He wasn't
as
empathetic as a Martian.
The door shut behind her and she saw down across the table from him, beaming as she set her tablet down. Tapping it with her fingers, she read off the data there. "Beta -- born Mary Theresa Randolph. You changed your name and began to transition in '99?" She looked up at Beta, who nodded, frowning slightly. "But that was during the tail end of the Bronze Era, and the pharmacutical companies weren't really being kept on the leash they are now. But who could blame them. It had only been ten years since the Darkthornn War, we were all still rebuilding..."
She looked back down at the papers. "But selling nanocyte contaminated hormone treatments to transgendered teenagers? No wonder you wanted
revenge
."
Beta pursed his muzzle. "Do you have a point Miss Martian?"
"Please, call me Jane!" she said, cheerfully. "And I just have a few questions. Why did you stick with it?"
"With...transitioning?" Beta asked, narrowing his eyes.
"With crime," Jane said, nodding. "You've your unique abilities-"
"Oh, yeah, such an amazing power!" Beta said, angrily, slamming his paw into the tabletop. It hurt. He tried to ignore it. "I'm the
second best.
Forever. Do you know what it's like? Every time some new guy walked up beside me, I get slightly
less
better than him. I could be a genius one second, then step next to a moron and be a dribbling idiot." He shook his head. "Trying to hold down a job like that? It's..." He sighed. "It seemed impossible."
"Seemed," Jane said, her voice dry.
Beta glared at her.
"And you didn't ever go too far. Too hard." She looked down at the tablet. "Lots of robberies here. No murders."
"They throw the book at you for murder," Beta said. "I'm an idiot some of the time, but I'm smart some of the other times, so..."
She nodded. "Well. Beta. How would you like a cure? Or, more accurately, an improvement?"
Beta twitched his tail once. He tried to put on his poker face -- but his poker face was slightly less good than Jane's poker face. And her poker face was
terrible
. His eyes shone with excitement as he licked his muzzle. "What kind of improvement?"
"Well." She smiled, clasping her hands. "We think we can set your nanocytes at a specific power level. Due to your criminal past, it'd be at human norms, but..." She shrugged. "A wolfman within human norms and a will can find any number of jobs. Furry artist, porn star, furry porn star..."