Valkyrie, from Old Norse valkyrja "chooser of the slain", is one of a host of female figures who decide which soldiers die in battle and which live.
Jet thought that Sergei did not really think about the name when he had thrown it out for her to catch, did not think he would appreciate appointing herself to such a task. The truth of it was that she didn't believe that she was a chooser of the slain....or she wasn't now. That, she was learning, was the part of who she had been created to be, a code of Laws had been etched into her bones and they still held sway over the core of her value system.
She had been a part of something called the Brigade, and they protected a place named the Nine Hundred Planes. As the name implied there were nine hundred Planes of existence that were populated by a wide range of sentient, or semi-sentient, beings all tied together by the fabric of the Planes themselves; a universe in a bubble protected by created monsters. That was harsh but she was coming to understand the truth of it. They did not protect the inhabitants of the Planes, they protected the Planes themselves, and if any did something to disrupt the balance they would step in and 'deal" with it.
She had been a Valkyrie, choosing those that would die to protect the Planes, and she had been good at it, efficient and cold-blooded. Ranking high in the warrior caste she had more than her fair share of blood on her hands. When she had lost her memories she had transitioned to being a bounty hunter, a job at which she excelled even without the use of the majority of her special abilities. That had been different in some ways and the same in others; she still choose who died when she took a job, and who would live to be incarcerated.
Most of the bounties she took on were for beings that had committed a certain range of crimes, and she could see that, given a facade of free will, she chosen to help those less able to defend themselves. That didn't mean she was like Sergei, or perhaps the Soldier, she did not know him well enough to decide. Sergei helped people because they needed it right then, and without hesitation. For every bounty she took she weighed a dozen variables....yes, the man had killed a family for profit, or burned down a building with people inside, but that did not necessarily mean that she felt a need to bring them to justice, it was rarely about justice for her when she did take a bounty. No, it was that they had upset the balance of an area to an extent that there was instability, and those Laws, carved upon her bones, called her to action.
Now, well now there was another impetus to her actions, and one that she had far more difficulty understanding than "it is writ upon your bones, blood and sinew and therefore you will obey?. It was for him that she did this thing, this preparation to be a first response unit. She would rescue those he said were in need because he asked, not because she felt the driving desire to help those strangers. She would tear down the city if he asked, kill every inhabitant she could manage to kill if he asked; she felt it prudent not to mention that to him, he would not appreciate the sentiment.
Her hands moved to pick up another mask, she had been trying different ones on in an attempt to disguise her face, she wasn't sure that it was working. It was an easy trick for her to change the color of her hair via the use of her technomancy, the nanites infiltrated every cell, even her hair and it was a matter of light reflection to make her red hair appear black. Likewise it was easy to change the color of her eyes, they flooded with nanites when she was working a large amount of technomancy and nearly always turned a silver color during that time.
The mask was a black matte overlaid with silver workings, the metal work was delicate and weighed next to nothing on her face. She had infused the silver with her nanites so that it would not bend unless a great deal of force was applied, no need to put something on her face that would break easily and puncture her eye or anything. Turning so that she could see herself in the mirror that hung on the wall above the sofa. It was the only mirror in her home, such as it was, not even the bathroom had a mirror in it. That said something about her but what that something was would remain undiscovered by Jet, self reflection wasn't high on her list of priorities.
It fit her face well and added some contour to her cheekbones that she didn't possess naturally, changing the shape just enough that it would be difficult to picture her own structure as being the one that was beneath. So change of hair and eye color and re contouring of her face. There was nothing she could do about her height, but when in the guise of Valkyrie her wings would be visible, something she had shied away from showing in public thus far. All those things combined should protect her identity; more importantly it would keep Sergei from becoming a target if anyone got angry with what she was doing.
She decided to keep the mask on. Sergei would be there soon and she planned on greeting him while wearing it....and precious little else.
Jet thought that Sergei did not really think about the name when he had thrown it out for her to catch, did not think he would appreciate appointing herself to such a task. The truth of it was that she didn't believe that she was a chooser of the slain....or she wasn't now. That, she was learning, was the part of who she had been created to be, a code of Laws had been etched into her bones and they still held sway over the core of her value system.
She had been a part of something called the Brigade, and they protected a place named the Nine Hundred Planes. As the name implied there were nine hundred Planes of existence that were populated by a wide range of sentient, or semi-sentient, beings all tied together by the fabric of the Planes themselves; a universe in a bubble protected by created monsters. That was harsh but she was coming to understand the truth of it. They did not protect the inhabitants of the Planes, they protected the Planes themselves, and if any did something to disrupt the balance they would step in and 'deal" with it.
She had been a Valkyrie, choosing those that would die to protect the Planes, and she had been good at it, efficient and cold-blooded. Ranking high in the warrior caste she had more than her fair share of blood on her hands. When she had lost her memories she had transitioned to being a bounty hunter, a job at which she excelled even without the use of the majority of her special abilities. That had been different in some ways and the same in others; she still choose who died when she took a job, and who would live to be incarcerated.
Most of the bounties she took on were for beings that had committed a certain range of crimes, and she could see that, given a facade of free will, she chosen to help those less able to defend themselves. That didn't mean she was like Sergei, or perhaps the Soldier, she did not know him well enough to decide. Sergei helped people because they needed it right then, and without hesitation. For every bounty she took she weighed a dozen variables....yes, the man had killed a family for profit, or burned down a building with people inside, but that did not necessarily mean that she felt a need to bring them to justice, it was rarely about justice for her when she did take a bounty. No, it was that they had upset the balance of an area to an extent that there was instability, and those Laws, carved upon her bones, called her to action.
Now, well now there was another impetus to her actions, and one that she had far more difficulty understanding than "it is writ upon your bones, blood and sinew and therefore you will obey?. It was for him that she did this thing, this preparation to be a first response unit. She would rescue those he said were in need because he asked, not because she felt the driving desire to help those strangers. She would tear down the city if he asked, kill every inhabitant she could manage to kill if he asked; she felt it prudent not to mention that to him, he would not appreciate the sentiment.
Her hands moved to pick up another mask, she had been trying different ones on in an attempt to disguise her face, she wasn't sure that it was working. It was an easy trick for her to change the color of her hair via the use of her technomancy, the nanites infiltrated every cell, even her hair and it was a matter of light reflection to make her red hair appear black. Likewise it was easy to change the color of her eyes, they flooded with nanites when she was working a large amount of technomancy and nearly always turned a silver color during that time.
The mask was a black matte overlaid with silver workings, the metal work was delicate and weighed next to nothing on her face. She had infused the silver with her nanites so that it would not bend unless a great deal of force was applied, no need to put something on her face that would break easily and puncture her eye or anything. Turning so that she could see herself in the mirror that hung on the wall above the sofa. It was the only mirror in her home, such as it was, not even the bathroom had a mirror in it. That said something about her but what that something was would remain undiscovered by Jet, self reflection wasn't high on her list of priorities.
It fit her face well and added some contour to her cheekbones that she didn't possess naturally, changing the shape just enough that it would be difficult to picture her own structure as being the one that was beneath. So change of hair and eye color and re contouring of her face. There was nothing she could do about her height, but when in the guise of Valkyrie her wings would be visible, something she had shied away from showing in public thus far. All those things combined should protect her identity; more importantly it would keep Sergei from becoming a target if anyone got angry with what she was doing.
She decided to keep the mask on. Sergei would be there soon and she planned on greeting him while wearing it....and precious little else.