Liberty Legion: Chapter 02 (Patreon)

I try to stick to a strict release schedule for my three current projects: Luther’s Pride, How To Train Your Girlfriend, and Harem House. However, sometimes I just have to write what I want when I need a break from the usual fare. So, this week’s extra is something pretty random. Chapter 2 of Liberty Legion! We talk about it on Discord sometimes, and it’s been rattling around, so I figured, why not? Don’t worry, we’ll be back to our regularly scheduled programming for next week’s extra, and the next part of Harem House Chapter 52 will be up on Saturday! 

If you haven’t read it yet, I recommend starting with Liberty Legion, Chapter 1. 

~~~

Jason arrived at the doors to the concrete, steel, and glass building across the street from Independence Hall exactly thirty-two seconds late. He swallowed, took a breath, straightened his spine, used his powers, and walked through the main doors thirty-two seconds early. The people on the street didn’t notice his sudden appearance. He’d exchanged his superhero costume for civilian clothes to fit in. He didn’t know whether it would be presumptuous or standard to arrive in his gear, so he chose discretion. 

The sign outside read: “L.L. Inc.” A school bus parked in the lot beside the building, along with a few other cars, told him that the lower museum levels had visitors. The lobby smelled distinctly of lemon floor wax, and its large, open area echoed with every step. A counter with two receptionists waited for guests, and a woman in a navy-blue skirt and blazer leaned against it. She stepped forward as he approached, her heels clacking on the tile. 

“Right on time. You must be Jason.” She offered him a handshake. “I’m Miss Winters, the one you’ve been emailing with through the Academy.” 

He shook her hand, but the introduction was unnecessary. Jason recognized her. She was shorter than he expected, but at six feet tall without her heels, she wasn’t short either. Her chin-length hair in a straight, white bob framed her face, sharpening her features and following the line of her jaw. The red shirt beneath the navy blazer, combined with her hair, gave her a patriotic aesthetic that played to his expectations. 

She’d probably done that intentionally, to remind him, or others, that she used to be Captain Liberty. Technically, she still was. She appeared to be in fighting shape, as if she could still teach him a lesson or two in the field. 

“It’s an honor to meet you in person, Miss Winters,” Jason said, releasing her hand. 

“And a pleasure to meet you, young man.” Miss Winters said. “Do you have your ID?” 

“Yes,” Jason said, reaching into his left sleeve and producing his license and ID card. 

She took his Justice Department ID card behind the counter to scan it. The computer read the biometric profile on the card, verified it against its scans of him, and cleared him. She returned his ID to him with a smile.  

“Shall we?” she asked, gesturing to the archway behind her that led into the museum. 

“Oh, certainly.” Jason followed a step behind her as they entered. “Do I need to pay for admission?” 

Miss Winters laughed, clearly amused by his question. Perhaps it was a stupid question, given that she’d invited him here, but he didn’t want to get anyone in trouble if he was supposed to buy a ticket to the museum first. 

“No, you’re on a pass with me.” Miss Winters said. “Have you been here before?” 

“No, I always wanted to, though. Mister Fredericks always spoke highly of the team and his time here.” Jason said. “He wanted me to bring him back a cheesesteak, but from what I’ve seen, there are a lot of places to get one from, and he didn’t specify where.” 

“Will that travel well?” Miss Winters asked. “To wherever he is?”

“I don’t see why not. It’d only be a few seconds for it.” Jason answered. 

“Interesting. You’ll want to get one from Angelo’s, then. So what else did Mr. Fredericks tell you about the team?” Miss Winters asked. 

“A few stories from his time on the roster, mostly,” Jason answered, thinking back. The Liberty Legion had faced down a few villains in Mr. Fredericks’s time. He’d been on the second iteration of the team, and eager to keep the peace in Philadelphia, or Philly, as the locals called it. “I expect much of it is out of date.” 

Miss Winters giggled, a surprising noise from such a professional facade. “I see. Well, let me give you the tour, okay?” Miss Winters asked. “It’s standard for our new hires, and I want you to understand the proud legacy you’ll have to uphold as a member of the team.” 

“Of course.” Jason nodded. “I love to learn.” 

Miss Winters smiled gracefully. “I’m not sure how much of the information will be new. Are you a history buff?”

“Yes and no,” Jason said. “I enjoy learning about history, but there’s a lot of history out there. Superhero history has been a mainstay in my education, though.” 

“I’d expect nothing less with your pedigree,” Miss Winters said. 

She led him through the archway and through a short hallway into a domed atrium. A white marble statue stood in the center, and Roman columns flanked every exit, leading into different sections of the museum. The dome’s underside bore a mural depicting various superheroes over the decades fighting crime, supervillains, and invasions.  

“This is our Founder’s Memorial,” Miss Winters explained. 

The statue depicted the original members of the Liberty Legion, six men and one woman, in their superhero costumes reminiscent of their era. A small plaque at the base of the pedestal read their names along with the founding information and date. Jason could read it for himself, but that didn’t stop Miss Winters from reciting it from memory. She didn’t need to look at the plaque to remember the words, but kept her eyes on Jason as he read along. 

“December 10th, 1941 - In the wake of Pearl Harbor, these seven magnificent heroes came together to preserve America against those who threatened her peace and liberty. Fighting crime, villainy, and hatred throughout the decades, the Liberty Legion’s initial founders paved the way for those who followed in their footsteps and answered the call. We honor and memorialize those brave souls: Captain Liberty, Minuteman, Red Eagle, Wrath, Master Zohar, Keystone, and Lady Belle.”

Jason matched the faces to the names as Miss Winters recited them. Except for Captain Liberty, each hero had risen during the thirties as a vigilante fighting against crime and injustice. The statue made them appear larger than life, though each had been mortal. 

“Each iteration of the team has worked to uphold those goals in one form or another, and to make the heroes who came before them proud. The Liberty Legion might not be the oldest or most popular organized superhero team in the US, but they did what they could and even fought overseas during the war.” Miss Winters continued. “Come on, I’ll walk through the portrait gallery.” 

Jason followed her, walking by her side as they turned right from the atrium and entered a wide hallway. Miss Winters turned toward the front of the building, and Jason kept pace. She turned left, entering a gallery where some children ran past them and kept going. The labyrinth they entered had a team portrait of the seven founding members on one side and seven smaller portraits on the opposite wall. Each bore delicate brushstrokes and an info card, dating the paintings to 1947, just after the Second World War ended. 

“So what do you know of the team’s history?” Miss Winters asked. “Did you do any research?” 

“I did, yes,” Jason said, nodding. He assumed the question was a test. “After their founding, the Liberty Legion became local legends, though their function as a team remained ceremonial until they left the US to join the war in the European Theater. They returned in nineteen-forty-seven and resumed local operations, with a much more unified presence, until Lady Belle resigned from the team later that year.” 

“Do you know why she left the team?” Miss Winters asked, gesturing to Lady Belle’s portrait. 

The woman in the painting wore a heavily stylized suit of armor. Her form-fitting gold cuirass bore the shape, but not the details, of a woman’s torso. The gauntlets, greaves, and boots left slight gaps where a black unitard covered her skin and limbs. Her gold miniskirt was Greco-Roman in style, with gold-plated leather strips hanging from her waist. The gold domino mask disguised her identity beneath her Barbut-style helmet, the T-shaped opening leaving her nose and mouth free to breathe. 

“She resigned over a controversy with the local newspaper, correct?” Jason asked, recalling what he’d read in the articles. 

“Do you know the story?” Miss Winters asked. 

“I know the version of it that the newspapers reported,” Jason answered. “But I suspect the reality was more nuanced.” 

Miss Winters smiled. “That’s an excellent observation, Jason. The world is often more nuanced than reports suggest.” She looked at the portrait, and then back to Jason. “Do you have any experience or empathy for what this world is like, particularly for female heroes?”

“Only secondhand experience, but empathy, yes. My mother’s contributions to my upbringing and my experiences with my sisters have helped shape who I am today. Granted, we weren’t on-planet for most of it, and each civilization we visited was different. Still, I regularly read and absorb various authors’ works, which detail the personal experiences of women in the world.” 

“So what do you imagine Lady Belle’s experience on the team was like?” 

Jason considered what he knew of the team. Lady Belle had been the only woman on an otherwise male team. She had phonokinetic abilities that let her manipulate sound and vibrations. She was a powerhouse, but given the era’s social norms, the media mistreated her. They downplayed her lethality and her power, often suggesting that she was there to support the team in other ways. 

History painted a believable lie, except that Belle rose to prominence in the pre-war era. Few female heroes could claim success, much less fame, in the twenties and thirties. Even he could only recall a few, and most of them had male partners.

“I imagine she did more work and received fewer accolades for it than the others,” Jason answered. “Returning from the war, the frequent urging for women to return to domestic labor might have frustrated her. Assuming her male teammates treated her with respect, they likely infantilized her or projected unconscious prejudices and stereotypes onto her. I know there were theories she was romantically involved with one or more of the other members, but they all claim their relationship with her was platonic. Still, in every interview with her I’ve read, they ask her about the team’s costumes, whether she’s found someone special, and what it’s like cleaning up after so many men.” 

Miss Winters nodded. 

“Given the practiced form of her answers, Lady Belle knew how to handle such inquiries. Her private life is still classified information, of course,” Jason said. It’d been almost a century. Still, because the information could endanger agents currently in the field through their connections, the government redacted identities from any declassified files, assuming they survived the century. 

“You’re very formal, Jason. Has anyone ever told you that? Sometimes, it’s like you’re reading from a textbook.” 

“Sorry, Ma’am,” Jason said. 

“It’s Miss Winters,” she corrected. “No need to call me Ma’am.” 

“Sorry, Miss Winters.” 

“So why do you think she resigned from the team?” Miss Winters asked. 

“She resigned from the team because of a controversy with the local papers about some photographs of her in a bikini, if I recall correctly,” Jason said. He glanced at Miss Winters to see if he was correct.

“You’re half right,” Miss Winters said. “Belle and her roommate, Dolores, went to Florida for a weekend. Both wore bikinis. The pictures in question were of them kissing on a balcony. A certain media mogul purchased the negatives, and Belle retired two weeks later.” 

“Are you suggesting that the same level of homophobia and persecution exists for women now?” Jason asked, confused as to the lesson in this story. 

“Oh, goodness, no,” Miss Winters said. “We’ve come a long way as a society, though we still have work to do. No, I’m telling you this story because you need to realize that the past, the legacy of this team, isn’t just marble statues and oil paintings. It’s people. Yet, the public will hold you to an impossible standard, no matter what. You will fail to live up to expectations, and how you handle that failure is important. I don’t want any quitters on my team.”

“I’m not a quitter,” Jason assured her.  

Jason understood. In a way, he probably had something in common with Lady Belle, besides both of them liking women. She was the only woman on the team when she joined. He’d be the only man on this one. Equality was ideal, but reality could be messy. He’d be the outsider, like she was, and he’d have to win over his new teammates and earn their trust, as she presumably did. 

“As fans of the team and its heroes, the public often loses that perspective,” Miss Winters said. “Heroes become symbols. The masks, powers, and costumes help perpetuate the myths, but behind those masks, heroes are still products of their time, cultures, and experiences. Heroes are people, and people don’t belong on pedestals; only statues do. I want you to remember that.”

“I think I understand,” Jason said. Each hero on the team was a different person, and if he were going to get along with them, he’d have to learn more than their names, but their personalities in and out of the masks. He had to treat his teammates like people, not as heroes. Perhaps that had been his mistake when he’d encountered them on the highway.  

“Come on, let’s continue the tour.” Miss Winters gestured for him to follow as she walked through the maze. The portraits changed to other iterations of the team, each with plaques describing their subjects. 

“After the war, things went well enough for the team, but it was a difficult time for the government. You’re familiar with the Alias Act of 1955?” Miss Winters asked as they walked.

After the founding team, the painted portraits depicted younger individuals–the team’s second iteration. There were fewer suits, ties, and hats; more tights, uniforms, and jackets. The repeating scene on their left changed from a study’s fireplace and wing-backed chair to each hero standing before the Liberty Belle in an open courtyard.

Jason nodded. “Yes, Ma’am. It’s what prompted the first Captain Liberty to retire, as did many other heroes.”

“Correct,” Miss Winters said. “By that point, the team was under the management of Captain Liberty’s son, who determined that the show must go on. He recruited Captain Liberty’s original protégé, Lieutenant Liberty, to become the new Captain Liberty. Minuteman passed his title onto his son, having already reached retirement age. Wrath’s daughter took over the persona, inheriting her father’s powers. She trained hard to incorporate them. They hired Triton and Sentinel, having partnered with them before, and Master Zohar and Red Eagle continued on the team, mentoring the younger heroes until they retired.”

Jason nodded, waiting for her to continue. 

“The team had its disagreements over the Alias Act, and they could have lost their goodwill and become outlaws, but each one realized that the legacy of the team was important, and whether or not they agreed with the law, the work had to continue.” Miss Winter’s history lesson had a point. “Since then, the team has answered to the organization, Liberty Legion Incorporated, and to the government, operating with the oversight of a board.”

Jason examined the portraits, waiting to see if she had a question. She watched him as he perused the gallery, conducting her interview while giving him the tour.

The second Captain Liberty was a face he recognized. Mister Fredericks was much younger in his painting, but had a commanding presence. His body armor improved on his predecessor’s stylized military fatigues. 

The second Minuteman had ditched the Revolutionary War costume and adopted a sleek unitard in the same colors. It looked awful, but Jason didn’t comment on the fashion. 

Wrath’s daughter, or Wrath II, had ditched the trench coat and fedora as well. She traded them for a stylized crimson jacket, pants, boots, gauntlets, and mask. 

Sentinel was new, in an aviator’s jacket and a pilot’s helmet. The giant mech behind him looked silly by modern standards, but the extraterrestrial tech was at least three centuries ahead of his peers. 

Triton wore scaled armor and bore his namesake weapon. Every superhero team had an aquatic warrior type in the early days. If anything, Liberty Legion was behind the curve on that fad. 

Master Zohar’s hair was silver in his portrait, giving his goatee an even more distinguished appearance. The Red Eagle looked the same as ever.

“Do you have any issues with the government knowing your identity and authorizing you as one of its agents?” Miss Winters asked. “Do you resent accountability?” 

“No,” Jason answered honestly. “I have no issue being held accountable for my actions and their consequences. If I did, I wouldn’t have made it through the Academy, Ma’am.” 

“I told you to stop calling me ma’am.” Miss Winters smiled. “Miss Winters or just Miss will do, or Nicole.” 

“If you wish.” Jason nodded. He’d do better to remember. Ma’am was a reflex by now, after working with the Green Knight. 

“As a member of the team, the board will hold you accountable for your actions while operating as a hero both to the US government’s Department of Superhuman Justice and to Liberty Legion Incorporated. You read the guidelines I sent you, including the personal morality clause?” Miss Winters arched one eyebrow. “The rules that apply both in and out of the mask?” 

“I did. I found nothing objectionable or in contradiction with my current moral preferences and behavior.” Jason said. 

Miss Winters chuckled to herself. “There’s that textbook jargon again. With language like that, I can tell you’re not a party animal.” 

Jason scratched the back of his neck. “Was that awkward phrasing?”

“More overly proper,” Miss Winters said. “Are you nervous?”

“I just want to make a good impression,” Jason admitted. 

Miss Winters smiled to hide her amusement and subdue her laughter. Her eyes sparkled in the spotlight, illuminating her and the various portraits around the room.  

“Is this your first interview?” Miss Winters asked. “Didn’t they prepare you for this during your media training?” 

“They did,” Jason answered. “And yes, this is my first job interview.” But this was far more unique than anything he’d prepared for in training. The museum tour made their conversation more casual, which he appreciated, but it also carried an intimidating element of presenting the heroes who came before him. 

“I spoke with Green Knight,” Miss Winters said. “She gave you a glowing review. I confess, it surprised me to learn you sought her out as a mentor. Don’t speedsters typically study under other speedsters?” Miss Winters asked. 

“They do,” Jason nodded. Statistics would support her assessment, and if he wanted to learn more about field applications of his abilities, that would have been the route to take. 

“But you didn’t,” Miss Winters pointed out. “Why was that?” 

“The Green Knight is a more detective-based hero, which was something I wanted more experience in before graduating from the Academy,” Jason explained. “Plenty of speedsters could mentor me in how to use that aspect of my abilities, but I’ve been training in them since I was a kid, under tutelage from some of the greatest heroes throughout the cosmos. And while many of the principles are the same, my powers aren’t identical to most speedsters. I realized it would be more beneficial to gain field experience in handling crime, casework, and using my brain more than my powers.” 

Miss Winters smiled. “And why did you decide against working full-time in Boston?” She asked, gesturing for him to follow as she began walking to the next gallery. 

“The crime rate there wasn’t high enough to warrant my involvement when the city would benefit from other heroes more,” Jason answered. “And Liberty Legion was always my first choice after I graduated.” 

“You don’t want to work solo?” Miss Winters asked. 

“No, Ma’am. I mean, Miss Winters,” Jason said, correcting himself before she could.

“You qualify for solo work,” Nicole said. 

“Yes,” Jason said. “But I’d feel more comfortable as part of a team, especially since I’m just starting out.”

“Competent and humble is a delightful combination in a hero,” Miss Winters said. “And you’re very polite. I must say I’m surprised. Having met your father, I thought you’d be more neurodivergent and socially oblivious. Not to mention arrogant. No offense to you or your father, but I assume that’s where your textbook manner of speech comes from.” 

“Oh, none taken,” Jason said. “I’m not sure I believe in neurotypical as a status. Biodiversity implies neurodiversity as the default, but my father’s lack of social skills is well documented and observed. My mom overcompensated by teaching me how to be polite and to observe proper customs.” 

“You’re well-adjusted for someone who spent their formative years off-planet,” Miss Winters remarked. “If you don’t mind my saying so.” 

“Not at all,” Jason assured her. “I’ll take it as a compliment.” 

“Good, as that is how I meant it,” Miss Winters said, smiling. “Now, tell me, how familiar are you with the current lineup for the Liberty Legion?” 

“Very,” Jason answered. “I know the roster changes have been slow since the Pandemonium Pandemic of Twenty-Twenty, and it’s a roster of all women, which has made the internet refer to them as the Liberty Belles.” 

“We helped that along for PR and marketing purposes,” Miss Winters confessed. 

Jason nodded as they reached the last stretch of the portrait gallery, having walked past the other portraits and gallery rooms. Each image on the wall was of a different hero or group of heroes from various decades and eras. The linear progression through time showed gradual changes in style, even as the same heroes worked for multiple decades. When they reached the last room, they came to the modern era. 

“Meet your future teammates,” Miss Winters gestured to the portraits on the wall. 

“Oh, I—” 

“Lieutenant Liberty is close to being worthy of the Captain Liberty title, but she hasn’t quite earned it yet,” Miss Winters said, gesturing to her portrait. These portraits were professional photographs, rather than paintings, with each team member posing in front of the founder’s statue and in a group shot in front of the LOVE statue. 

“She’s capable, though, from what I’ve seen,” Jason said. 

“She ought to be. She’s been training her entire life to take over the mantle. Unfortunately, her powers aren’t as physically oriented as her father’s, so she compensates with technology,” Miss Winters said. 

“Technology that she creates and maintains herself, if the article I read was accurate, which is impressive. Her powers seem to have enhanced her brain and her body, even if she doesn’t have her father’s muscle mass,” Jason said. 

“And what do you think of Feral?” Miss Winter gestured to the purple-furred woman’s portrait. “I wouldn’t expect that you’d have active prejudices against non-terrestrial species, but do you anticipate any difficulties working with her?” 

“None on my end. I’m accustomed to respecting and observing a wide variety of customs, hers included,” Jason said. “But don’t worry, I won’t challenge her to any trial more combative than a chess match.” 

“I think it might surprise you how combative she can make a chess match,” Miss Winters chuckled. “And how would you handle her being combative toward you?” 

“I’d have to accept a trial if she offered one, or she’d consider it a sign of disrespect, but I wouldn’t permanently injure or kill her.” 

“You’re not worried she might injure or kill you?” Miss Winters asked. 

“No, but only some of that is confidence in my abilities. I also deduced from the paperwork I signed that if she were the type to wantonly maim or kill, she wouldn’t be on the team.” 

“A good deduction.” Miss Winters’s smile suggested his answer amused her. “Do you have experience working with people from Regulus?” 

“I’ve met a handful in my time. There was a bounty hunter my uncle worked with for a while, but I suspect he was from a different clan than Feral.” The markings and colors in the fur were distinct between the clans, and which worked together and which were at war shifted, making it difficult for outsiders to navigate. 

“If she offers you a trial, please counter with a non-combat-related competition. We can’t have a fight breaking out in the HQ outside of the training facilities.” Miss Winters chuckled as they left the portrait gallery behind them and walked into a new hallway. 

The exit from the gallery led to a different exhibit, and then back to the main hallway they’d come from. The museum’s labyrinth was new to Jason, but Miss Winters navigated through it as if she could walk it with her eyes closed, and he didn’t doubt she could. 

“So, what is your role here, Miss Winters? Are you still on the team as its leader?” 

“Yes and no,” Miss Winters answered. “I’m on reserve for fieldwork, so I don’t go into the field unless there’s a genuine emergency. Most of the time, I’m behind a desk. Lieutenant Liberty leads the team in the field when group effort is required. I lead the team from here, serving as a mentor and overseer. I’m half-retired, and once Lieutenant Liberty is ready to take the mantle of Captain, I’ll pass into a full support capacity.” 

“A pity. From what I understand, you had quite a positive career,” Jason said, having done his homework. 

Miss Winters smiled. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Daniels.” She stopped at the elevator and gestured. “Shall we move to the behind-the-scenes tour?” 

The words weren’t suggestive, given her tone. So far, she’d shown him the portrait gallery and a portion of the museum on their way to the elevators. The surrounding civilians were never in earshot of their conversation, but they were still in civilian-accessible areas. She was suggesting they move into team-only levels. 

“Of course,” Jason said. “Lead on.” 

Miss Winters entered the elevator first, after Jason gestured for her to do so. He followed, and the doors closed behind him. Nicole scanned her ID card against the elevator’s card reader, triggering a biometric scan. Jason worried his signature beside hers would stop them, but the elevator began moving upward without protest.

“It didn’t trigger an inquiry over a guest?” Jason asked. 

“We entered your biometric data when we scanned your ID,” Miss Winters said as the elevator stopped and its doors opened onto a restricted hallway. “This is residential level two. Would you expect to live here, or commute?” 

“If living here is an option, that might be best,” Jason said. “Commuting would remove me from on-call availability. Unless I had something nearby.”

“The apartments here are nicer than any you might rent nearby, and there are some amenities and perks, like proximity to the training room, garage, and more frequent team-building opportunities.” 

“That’d be nice. I made some friends at the Academy, but none of them are living here,” Jason said. “So I’m looking forward to making more friends.” 

“Speaking of which, if you aren’t living offsite, I should remind you that the team contract requires a certain number of hours per week spent among civilians. It’s not cumbersome, and we don’t care what you do. Volunteer at local charities or museums, or spend your time partying. What’s important is that you get out there and make friends,” Nicole said. “It keeps you grounded and connected to the people you’re serving.” 

“That sounds admirable,” Jason said. “As myself, or in an assumed identity?” 

“For security, most use an assumed identity. We can provide you with one,” Nicole said. 

“I might have to ask someone to show me around,” Jason said. “But I’m sure once I make friends with the team, they’ll introduce me to some of theirs.” 

Nicole smiled. “Well, you might have your work cut out for you, but they’re a talented group of girls. I’m sure you’ll win them over in no time.” 

“I hope so.” 

“And this would be your apartment,” Nicole said, gesturing to a security pad beside the door. She made a few quick taps, then stepped aside and motioned for him to use it. “Go ahead.” 

Jason pressed his flat palm against the pad, letting it scan his hand. It beeped, and he pulled it away. 

“New occupant registered: Welcome home, Mr. Daniels.” 

The voice was pleasant and feminine, but robotic. Not that it bothered Jason. The sentient computer on his wrist was likely more developed, but he didn’t hold that against the resident system. He hoped they interfaced well. 

The locked door slid aside, letting them into the apartment. 

“I hope it’s okay that I used your legal name. Your documentation still has your hero name as undecided. Have you decided on one?” Miss Winters asked as they stepped inside.

“I was thinking of going by Gladiator, in tribute to my grandfather,” Jason said. “My father wants me to use Aion, but I’m not into mythology.” 

He entered the apartment to find himself in a small rectangular hallway wider than it was long. To his left, a sliding double-door hall closet waited for any coats or gear he might wish to hang and store. There was space between it and the door for an umbrella stand, with a small mirror and coat hooks mounted on the wall. 

“Gladiator, huh? That doesn’t really seem to match your personality, or your flair, given your powerset and hero persona. Would you consider being the new Minuteman?” Miss Winters asked. “I’m sure we could get a sign-off.” 

“Oh, uh, no. I feel like that’d be disrespectful since I’ve never met those predecessors.” He had no connection to the previous Minutemen outside his tenuous prior connections to the team.

“Fair enough. You could always be Sergeant Liberty, if you wanted to. I’m sure Mister Fredericks wouldn’t protest your taking on that legacy, nor do I.” Miss Winters said.  

“That’s quite the compliment coming from the current Captain Liberty,” Jason said, surprised. “Thank you, but I think Lieutenant Liberty might not like the idea very much, and I’d prefer to be her teammate rather than her sidekick, if that makes sense.” 

“That’s fair,” Miss Winters agreed. “Just consider it. We’ll need a name to announce you to the media, which we’d like to do sooner rather than later. So, consider your deadline in hours, not days.” 

“Understood,” Jason said, moving further into the apartment. 

“The place comes furnished,” Miss Winters said as she closed the door. “But if you have furniture you’d like to move in, we can put whatever you don’t need from us in storage.” 

“Oh, no, the furnishings are good. I don’t have any furniture,” Jason said as he examined his surroundings. 

Miss Winters nodded and gestured to the rest of the apartment. The hallway’s opening on the far wall from the front door led into a large, open living room. The sofa on the right wall faced the large flat-screen TV on the left with a low coffee table between them. An open door on the right wall, near the entrance, led into a bedroom; the wall ended just past the sofa, revealing an open dining room area to the right of the kitchen. The left wall had an opening leading into a hallway that split to the left and right. 

“The guest room,” Miss Winters indicated the nearest room to their right. “In case your family visits, or whatever other guests you may have. They’ll be able to access the ground floor from the elevator, but they won’t be able to access this floor or your apartment without you. Without security clearance, they won’t be able to access the other floors, even with you. We take our security very seriously, but we covered the guidelines in the documentation we sent you.” 

Jason remembered it. He didn’t believe it would be an issue. His family had no plans to visit him that he knew of, but it comforted him to know they had a place to stay if his sisters, mother, father, or uncles came to visit. 

“The main living room is meant to feel spacious. The TV comes with subscriptions to all the streaming services, but you’ll simply need to create your own profile. We don’t supply consoles, but my step-daughter tells me the equipment is fantastic for the latest games. Do you play many video games?” 

“No, there wasn’t much opportunity to play them growing up, but I’ve had some experience with vintage games. There was an arcade bar in Boston that Green Knight frequented on her off-time.” Jason examined the TV, not particularly confident in how much time he’d spend watching it.

Nicole kept the tour moving. “The kitchen is state-of-the-art, with all of the typical appliances. We can provide a meal plan, if you’d prefer it, but food preparation is up to you.”

The open-plan kitchen hugged the far wall, with a breakfast counter separating it from the carpeted living room. The brick facade on the back wall separated the countertops from the cabinets above and below. The stove was on the left side of the back wall, with the fridge on the right. The counter then wrapped around from the back wall, against the left wall, to the breakfast counter. The sink was on the left wall, with lighting built into the cabinets above it to illuminate the stainless steel fixtures. 

The dining room furnishings were dark-stained wood, polished and shining under the overhead chandelier. From the open kitchen, he could see the bathroom door between the dining room and the guest room. The washer and dryer in the closet past the bathroom door seemed industrial, which Nicole confirmed. 

“Given the amount of laundry people in our line of work go through, we’ve equipped each apartment with the toughest possible washing machines, capable of handling large loads.” She amused herself with the statement, and her eyes dipped momentarily, but Jason missed the innuendo. 

“And across the apartment, we have the primary bedroom suite with bath, a walk-in closet with hidden compartments, and another bedroom, which most prefer to outfit as a rec room or study.” Miss Winters gestured as she entered the empty extra room. “Do you have any preferences? We can load the furniture by tomorrow.” 

“Oh, uh, a study might be more appropriate, or an electronics lab,” Jason answered.  

“Any specific equipment specs?” Miss Winters asked. “We might not be able to get everything, mind you, but we have a fair bit in storage and can access a fair amount of tech in our networks.” 

“I can send you the specs, and whatever you can provide would be most welcome,” Jason said. 

“Excellent.” Miss Winters motioned for them to return to the living room, and Jason led the way. 

Miss Winters sat on a stool with her back to the kitchen and gestured around the apartment. “So, Jason. What do you think? Are you willing to join the Liberty Legion?” 

The question struck Jason as humorous, though he didn’t laugh. He’d wanted to join the Liberty Legion since he was a kid, and Uncle Billy told him all the stories of his adventures with the superhero team. Touring the museum was interesting. He wanted to see the rest, but touring the ‘behind-the-scenes’ facilities was a thrill he hadn’t expected. Did her question mean he’d passed the interview? Was it an official offer, or was it a test?

“Of course!” Jason answered. “I wouldn’t have interviewed otherwise.”  

“Well then, welcome to the team.” Miss Winters stood and offered him a handshake. 

Jason shook her hand with enthusiasm, careful not to squeeze too hard but giving her hand a firm embrace. “Just like that?” he asked. 

“We’ll get your paperwork sorted immediately, and you can start tomorrow morning with the team training session, but for now, Control tells me the team is nearing the end of their debriefing.” Miss Winters tapped her ear, where a skin-thin patch behind her earlobe kept her in communication with the control center. “Would you like to meet them?” 

“Oh, I sort of already did, on my way in,” Jason said. “They were doing a rescue op on the highway, and I deactivated the robot. That’s why I was late.” 

Miss Winters arched an eyebrow. “You were right on time.” 

“Right,” Jason said. “I meant to arrive a few minutes early.” 

Miss Winters laughed. “I can see why someone like you might consider that late. Come on, let’s introduce you to the rest of the team as you are. I’m sure they’ll want to thank you for your help and get to know you before training with you tomorrow.” 

“Are you sure? Lieutenant Liberty—” He hesitated, not wanting to disparage Captain Liberty’s protégé. 

“Libby, as her teammates sometimes call her, can be harsh until you get behind her walls. Honestly, I don’t think a single teammate has had a good first impression of her until they fight alongside her,” Nicole said, starting to walk. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll warm up to you over time, and once she’s in your corner, you couldn’t ask for a better friend.” 

Jason supposed that didn’t sound too bad. Her optimism brushed away his brief experience with her, and he hoped time proved her right. He followed Miss Winters out of the apartment and into the hallway as she presented her case for Lieutenant Liberty. 

“Still, you might want to prepare them before they meet me as their new teammate,” Jason said. “I wouldn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with Lieutenant Liberty a second time.” 

“I’ll speak with her. Would you prefer to meet them in costume or as you are? You already signed the NDA and have your security clearances in place, as do they, but it’s entirely up to your comfort levels.” 

They reached the elevator, and it opened for Miss Winters as she approached. She presented her ID card, and the biometric scan triggered an inquiry. Nicole entered his data on the pad, approved his traveling with her, and the elevator began rising. 

“Maybe it’s best if I meet them in civilian clothes this time, let them judge me for me,” Jason said. The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open to reveal a wide hallway with multiple elevators beside theirs. Not every elevator had a door on the ground floor, he noticed. 

“That’s a great idea,” Miss Winters said, walking forward. Her heels echoed in the hallway.

She walked him forward through the hallway, past the plexiglass-windowed walls that separated offices and conference rooms. At the end of the hallway, a large room with multiple workstations awaited them. People inside bustled with earpieces in place, moving like bees. There wasn’t a specific uniform, but everyone wore business casual. Most men wore button-down shirts and slacks, and most women wore a wider variety of clothing. 

“This is our field support level, and this is our mission control. They handle incoming calls, scan for emergencies and potential operations, and support our field operations. The directors of mission control also assign our hero staff to the missions they take on, so be sure to stay in their good graces, or you’ll find yourself on more than your fair share of unpleasant work.” 

Jason looked surprised that she’d admit to such a breach of impartial protocol, but the levity in her voice and smile on her lips suggested she was teasing more than instructing. He nodded his acceptance. He had no interest in antagonizing any support staff who might help him in the field. Their contributions could be invaluable and help to save more lives than he could alone. That was one reason he chose to work on a team.

“Everyone!” Miss Winters’ voice carried after she entered Mission Control, dulling the buzzing bees into silence as if the queen had entered the room and announced herself. “I’d like you to meet Jason Daniels, our newest addition to the hero staff.” 

Several eyes widened in his direction. They stared at him with a wide range of expressions. Some appeared curious, others surprised, several wore smirks as if wishing him luck, and the remainder were too busy to show any interest. 

A voice from his left made him turn to face the speaker. 

“It’s nice to meet you, sir. My name’s Octavia. I’m the Public Relations Officer.” A slender, hawkish young woman in a black pencil skirt and a white blouse introduced herself. “Aaron over there is usually the director at this time of day. The second shift has Anila. Third shift is Mister Graves, or Albert. Don’t make a graveyard shift joke at his expense. He has no sense of humor about his name.” Her smile was friendly, and her stature was so petite that Jason stepped back to avoid towering over her. 

“You’ll meet them later,” Miss Winters said.

Jason nodded. “It’s nice to meet you.” He offered Octavia a handshake, and she shook it with both hands.

“What’s your alias, Mr. Daniels? Have I heard of you before?” Octavia asked without releasing his hand. “Or are you a rookie?” 

“A rookie,” Jason answered, withdrawing his hand from the overly friendly handshake. “And it’s Jason. No need to call me Mister Daniels.” 

“Mister Daniels is your father, eh?” Octavia asked.

“No,” Jason said, shaking his head. “He has several doctorates and prefers the professional honorifics.” 

Octavia blinked at him, then broke into a grin that dimpled one cheek. “He sounds like a barrel of fun,” Octavia said, chuckling. “We have one of those. Our tech advisor over there, Dr. Valenti, is an advanced intellect with a few degrees from MIT hanging on her office wall. What about you? Are you a mister or a doctor? You sound like a doctor.” 

Jason didn’t know what she meant, but her smile and bubbling nature made it hard to take it as an insult. Her cheerful, whirlwind of a personality must have swept many people away over the years. 

“A mister. I haven’t pursued any advanced degrees.” Jason shrugged. He noticed Dr. Valenti’s sneer as she resumed her work. “Not that there’s anything wrong with academia; I pursued the hero path instead.”

“Of course,” Octavia said, smiling. “Well, it was nice meeting you! I’m sure we’ll have a proper sit-down meeting soon. I look forward to working with you!” 

“Likewise,” Jason said. He nodded farewell, and Octavia returned to dealing with a notification on her screen. 

Miss Winters returned to his side, which was the first indication Jason had that she’d been away. The activity level in mission control was distracting, and there were so many sounds and visuals to examine that he almost used his abilities to sift through them. Instead, he refocused on Miss Winters. 

“Come on,” Miss Winters said, motioning for Jason to follow her. “The girls have finished debriefing. It’s time to meet the team.”

Miss Winters moved from the Mission Control room to the hallway, rounded the corner, and stopped beside a windowless door. The plaque beside the door read: “Debriefing Suite A.” She opened the door and held it open behind her for Jason to follow. 

Jason followed and closed the door behind him, leaving them in a lightly furnished sitting room with a table full of snacks, a coffeemaker, several comfortable chairs, and a row of doors on the left, spaced far apart and marked A, B, and C.

The room had the atmosphere of a college lounge, with a fireplace against the right wall and a relaxing ambiance meant to put people at ease. It seemed incongruous with the high-tech, style-forward professional layout behind them. 

Miss Winters gestured to the table against the near wall. “Would you like a snack? We have cookies, candy, jerky, whatever you need.” 

“No, thank you,” Jason said, shaking his head. 

“Don’t speedsters usually have voracious appetites?” Miss Winters asked. “You haven’t eaten since you got here, unless you’ve been running off when I’m not looking.” 

Jason laughed. “No, I haven’t been running off. Some speedsters require an increased intake, depending on their metabolisms,” Jason agreed. “But I’m not built that way, and I ate before I came.” 

Nicole nodded and turned her attention to conference room B as the door opened. An African-American woman in black jeans and a gray sweater that Jason didn’t recognize exited the room. She wore more casual clothes, and her entire aura suggested she could put someone at ease with a kind expression and a soft smile. The Liberty Belles followed her. 

“Ah, Dr. Fiscian, good, we can get two birds with one stone,” Nicole said, smiling as the group milled into the lounge, stopped, and fanned out. 

The Liberty Belles were still in costume, the same way Jason had left them on the highway. Galatea, Feral, Lieutenant Liberty, Tempest, and Umbra. They stared at him with shock plain on their faces. Without a mask, his change into business-casual attire offered no disguise. 

“Allow me to introduce Jason Daniels, the newest member of the Liberty Legion,” Nicole said, gesturing to Jason. “Jason, this is Dr. Fiscian, one of our mental health professionals. She’ll be the one completing your evaluation before you begin field duty, and I’m sure you’ll see plenty of her.” 

“You’ll tire of me,” Dr. Fiscian confirmed. “But it’s a pleasure to meet you, Jason.” 

Jason nodded his greeting. 

“And this is our team,” Nicole said, moving from Jason’s left to right as she introduced them. “Emily Morgenstern, Galatea, our resident powerhouse.” 

Galatea, the tall, imposing woman, waved to him. She brushed her blonde hair behind her ear with her other hand and adjusted her stance. She leaned slightly toward Jason, examining him more closely in his casual attire. Her marbled leotard hugged her body well. Her gold capelet and hair had dried after her dip in the river during the fight. 

Jason returned her wave, which made her smile. 

“Tora Vega, Feral, our infiltration specialist,” Nicole said, gesturing to the purple-furred woman whose yellow eyes gleamed as they rose from his feet to his face. She strode forward in silky steps, weaving her way past the others to circle Jason. Her bra and short-shorts costume was scanty, but made of some of the most expensive material on the planet. 

He had to remind himself not to turn to track her as she circled him. To the Regulans, indifference signaled strength and confidence, while her circling him was a typical, traditional greeting. 

“It’s nice to meet you, formally,” Jason said without looking at her. 

“The pleasure is mine,” Tora said, licking her lips as she rejoined her team. Her thin, prehensile tail hooked behind her in curious excitement, which he supposed was a good sign. He much preferred that to angry stiffness or hostile flicking. 

“Hannah Cameron,” Nicole said, continuing the introductions. “AKA Lieutenant Liberty, field leader on group missions, and future Captain Liberty if she continues to do well,” Nicole said, smiling and clearly meaning it as encouragement. Lieutenant Liberty’s scowl darkened further; however, she clearly took the comment as a threat that she might lose the title if she stepped out of line. She didn’t acknowledge Jason. 

“Ariel Zohar, Tempest, our resident arcane specialist.” 

Ariel inclined her torso, bowing. The inscribed silver choker around her neck glinted in the light while her tight black leather pants squeaked as she slid one leg forward and bowed. Her flowing peasant top gave anyone who looked a view down her cleavage, but Jason kept his gaze aimed at her eyes, which never left his. He returned her bow, holding it until she straightened. She smiled as she stood, as if he’d passed some kind of test. 

“A gentleman,” Ariel said, her expression shifting from curious to pleased. “It’s not every day you meet one of those.” 

“And Ishani Nadar, Umbra, our resident psionic.” 

The young Indian woman stared at him from behind her face veil, her eyes boring into his when they met. Jason smiled. She didn’t. Her costume obscured her short, curvier figure, leaving her eyes as her only unobstructed body parts. Jason thought she was gorgeous, but knew her specialty meant her mind was more important than her body. Plus, from what he’d read, she hadn’t had the lifelong battle training the others had. Her academy training had toughened her up and molded her into shape, but not everyone maintained military-level fitness after graduation. 

Nicole had finished the introductions, and an awkward silence settled over the group until Jason realized they were waiting for him to speak. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you again, and formally this time. I’m honored to become a member of the Liberty Legion, and I’ll uphold the team’s legacy as best as I can. I look forward to working with you,” Jason said, offering them an award-winning smile. 

“Seriously?” Lieutenant Liberty aimed her question at Nicole, not Jason. “This asshole? If you were so desperate to recruit a rookie, why couldn’t you find a woman? What happened to the Liberty Belles? What are we supposed to be now, the Liberty Belles and the Beast?” 

Nicole’s smile didn’t falter as she glared at Lieutenant Liberty. “The marketing team is prepared for the return to the original team branding. The Liberty Legion has a long and proud history of inclusive membership, hiring the best regardless of race, religion, planetary origin, orientation, gender, sex, or any other category of discrimination. I’ve been working to recruit Jason for months, and I’m delighted that he’s accepted our offer to join the team.” 

“You didn’t even run this by me.” The edge in Hannah’s voice threatened to cut. “I’m this team’s leader and—” 

“You’re this team’s field leader,” Nicole interrupted her without heat. She wasn’t a stepmother chiding a child, or a boss chiding an employee, but a teacher explaining something to a protégé. Nicole didn’t need to add heat to her tone to command the room. She spoke, and they listened. “I’m still this team’s official leader, and I have the authority to hire new members. If you’d like to discuss that, we can do so privately. If you’d like to move to dismiss me, you’re free to speak to the board. But until my role here changes, you will follow my orders. Won’t you, Lieutenant?”

Lieutenant Liberty narrowed her eyes at Miss Winters, not flinching away or showing any signs of yielding. Her breathing was slow and steady, but finally she sucked in a deeper breath, sighed, and turned her glare toward Jason. “Welcome to the team.”

“Thank you,” Jason said, though he doubted her sincerity. They could work on that. 

“Do we need a speedster?” Tempest asked. “No offense, I’m sure you’re great, and you helped us out earlier, but we have an excellent team. I’m worried that introducing a new member will upset the balance we’ve established. Plus, aren’t speedsters usually showboaters? Again, no offense.” 

“Jason brings more to the table than his powers,” Miss Winters said, stepping in to defend him. “Given his personality profile and the observations I’ve made during the interview, I think he’ll fit in very well.” 

“Are you homosexual?” Feral asked. 

“Tora! You can’t just ask someone if they’re homosexual!” Umbra said through gritted teeth. 

Jason laughed. It was one of the few references to Earth-based entertainment that he understood, having seen the source material. But the way they stared at him made it seem as if she hadn’t been making a reference. 

“That’s fine,” Feral said. She turned her attention to Umbra, as if asking her instead. 

Umbra didn’t acknowledge Feral’s attention. She kept her eyes on Jason. “I can’t read your mind. Are you a robot?” 

Galatea tilted her head as she examined Jason in a new light. 

“I can’t ask if he’s homosexual, but you can ask if he’s a robot?” Tora asked, frustrated. Umbra didn’t answer. 

“No, but I had some intense psionic training before attending the Academy,” Jason answered, not expanding further. Not that he wanted to be mysterious, but the nature and purpose of his training would reveal more about himself than he was ready to share until he knew they’d accept him for who he was. “I can let you read my mind, if you’d like, or if it’s necessary for field communication.” 

Umbra blinked. “That won’t be necessary.” 

“So you’re adding a guy with dubious abilities and training to the team without even—” 

“Mister Fredericks trained Mister Daniels himself,” Miss Winters said, cutting Hannah off again. “His family line contains some of the oldest and strongest heroes in our cosmos who have seen to his education, training, and upbringing. His academy and field-study scores are the highest in his class. He broke several Academy records during his time there. He’s a dedicated hero, a hard worker, intelligent but humble, and eager to join.”

The team’s eyes turned toward him, looking at him now as if he were far more impressive than before. Jason wished Miss Winters hadn’t rattled off his resume and pedigree. He had nothing to do with who his parents were or what family line he came from. That hadn’t mattered at the Academy, where they judged him solely on performance. Some of those broken records were outdated limits. These new expressions measured him by standards that shouldn’t matter. He wasn’t sure he preferred that to the mild curiosity and mingled caution from before. 

Jason supposed it was a better place to start from than the enmity Lieutenant Liberty kept displaying. He might not convince her to like him, but he’d do what he could to stay on her good side. 

“So he’s a nepo hire,” Tempest said. 

“Pot, Kettle,” Umbra said, shutting Tempest’s mouth faster than if she’d smacked it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—” 

“Whatever,” Tempest said, straightening. “I earned my place on this team. Everyone knows that.” 

“So has Mr. Daniels,” Miss Winters said.  

Feral shrugged. “He’s already proven his helpfulness, and it will be nice to have someone who might match my stealth and mobility.” 

“Welcome to the team,” Galatea said. “If you need a sparring partner, I’m always available.” 

“I’ll take you up on that,” Jason said, nodding. “Thank you. And the rest of you, too. I didn’t realize that my joining would be a surprise, but, well, I’m determined to be the best teammate I can be. I’ll make the Liberty Legion proud, and I look forward to getting to know each of you and working with you in the future.” 

The girls stared at him, each looking at him differently from their neighbor. He smiled, and Miss Winters patted him on the back. 

“Let’s take care of the paperwork,” she said. “The girls are tired, and I know Umbra’s overdue for the end of her shift.” 

Jason nodded and followed Miss Winters as she led him into the hallway once more. The final paperwork, the evaluation, and the meeting with PR had to go well, but today was his first day as an official member of the Liberty Legion. Uncle Bill would be happy to hear it. His sisters didn’t care about the superhero team, but they’d be happy for him. 

“Miss Winters?” Jason asked as they walked. 

“Yes, Jason?” Miss Winters asked. 

“Thank you, by the way. For believing in me and inviting me to join the team.” 

Miss Winters smiled as she held an office door open for him. “You’re welcome, Jason. I think you’ll be a great addition, and you’ll fit in, in no time.” 

Jason took his seat at the conference table she’d led him to, nodding as he introduced himself to one of the legal reps who had documents for him to sign. The next few hours might be pretty dull, but on the other side of it, he’d be an official member of the Liberty Legion.