Three months.

Three months since the Jawa trafficking was uncovered, three months of fighting a political war more complex than any field operation.

Kiera Moss sat in her office, Rebecca’s chair. The picture of her mother that she had discreetly placed on the desk was slowly becoming less of a comfort and more like a challenge.

“Rebecca Moss is finally stepping down to retirement due to injuries acquired six months ago after decades of invaluable service as founder of Interceptor Technologies! Her legacy of interceptor suits, cryogenic solutions, and incendiary ray technology will be carried on by her daughter, Kiera Moss.” Jamie read in a dramatic voice as she bounced into the office, enjoying the newfound access her recent promotion awarded her.

After their successful run with Bluestar, NovaStar had been trusted with more missions. She was a vital combatant against Jawal attacks as more of I.T.’s resources were allocated to investigating the crime-filled world of Jawal trafficking.

Now, Jamie had the privilege of moving through the headquarters freely and being sent on solo assignments.

“Nice going with that whole ‘well-deserved retirement’ narrative.” Jamie chirped. She held a tablet in her hand that held the news column she just read. 

“It was Pierce.“ Kiera replied, pretending to bury her face in the papers in front of her. While she had a lot of real work to do as the new official CEO of Interceptor Technologies, Jamie usually didn’t take the hint that she wanted to be alone unless Kiera looked swamped with work. The pop singer avoided paperwork like the plague, claiming that she handled enough in showbiz.

“Speaking of the delightful Pierce,” Jamie added sarcastically, “She sent me to come get you.

Something about the traffickers? Which reminds me - did you hear my new single, Stuck in Traffic?“ 

Kiera stood immediately, leaving her papers and Jamie’s rambling voice behind. Grabbing the black sweater she had found in her mother’s office drawer one cold night, she made a quick exit to find the reserved secretary. Pierce had setup shop in one of the conference rooms, leading a team of staff who investigated Jawal trafficking leads around the clock. Despite her official role as a secretary, Pierce was a clutch personnel when the pressure was on hard.

“What have we got?” Kiera asked, all assertive CEO. Having dropped the role of Rebecca, she wasted no time with friendly small talk or chit chat. It wasn’t her. And it wasn’t Pierce either.

“We have enough evidence to take it to the top.“ Kiera felt a rare sense of accomplishment. “Good. Walk me through it.“ After nodding towards a technician whose gesture coincided with the room darkening, a holographic screen rose up. It depicted the timeline and evidence gathered of the investigation.

While other law enforcement may have been better to take down the Jawal trafficking, the interceptors invulnerability to infection meant they were responsible for all ventures pertaining to Jawal, excluding clean-up. No one wanted to see police getting turned into barbaric monsters.

Pierce went through a monotone but detailed explanation that they had gathered informants, placed tracking devices on Jawal, and followed known faces in trafficking to build a case against Monique Heissman, who was shown to be a large buyer in the Jawal trafficking market.

The name made Kiera frown.

Monique Heissman was a scientist with a PhD in biochemistry and virology that had been blacklisted from respectable science circles. She was known for her radical science ambitions, shortcutting federal regulations, and bribing institutional review board members.

She was a mad scientist whose ambitions knew no bounds.

Kiera had met Monique Heissman once, in her childhood. She had attended a seminar on ethics in science with her mother at sixteen years old. It had been a heated topic, especially then considering the many breakthroughs in cryogenic stasis for those with early stage infections.

Her mother, dressed in crisp professional white clothing, was gagging on a celery-mint iced coffee that Kiera insisted was delicious.

They had been laughing when an orange-haired woman with glasses and a piercing gaze stopped them in their tracks. Her mother had sobered up, still projecting a charming smile, but Kiera knew there was nothing sincere there. The shift in her mother's mood made her stop laughing too.

 “Rebecca! How good to see you.” The red-head shifted her attention to Kiera. She was not an insecure teenager, but under the stranger's gaze, she felt like she was under a microscope.

“And how old are you, dear?” the woman asked out of the blue, eyes examining from her feet to her head.

Had the stranger been a man, Kiera would have probably been disgusted. Rebecca shoved her daughter back and said, “She will not be participating, thank you,” with an insight Kiera lacked.

Afterwards, it was explained: Dr. Monique Heissman was recruiting youth for an experimental vaccine trial. The trial was rumored to be disapproved by the FDA due to its core component, the banned Jawal virus.

Unlike successful vaccines, studies showed the Jawal virus acted like a parasite, consuming the chemicals and plasmas meant to neutralize it. This meant the injected subjects would still end up infected and turned.

“A pity. She looks very young and strong!” Dr. Heissman replied in an unnaturally upbeat cadence.

She spun on her heel and made quick work towards another group of people, whom Kiera observed were wary of her approach. That day her mother had taken her aside and had an uncharacteristically serious conversation with her about the dangers of work like Heissman’s.

She remembered that the evening ended with a cheesy 4D movie and popcorn, but the infamous scientist remained on her mind for a while after that encounter. 

“What has her latest activity been?“ Kiera asked. “Aside from debt payments? She’s been opening test centers all around the globe.“

“With what money?" Kiera asked incredulously. "And why?"

Ever since her vaccine experiment had resulted in the fatality of 6 minors, she’d been under a pile of debt from the fines and lawsuits. The only reason she wasn’t in jail was because the pharmaceutical company that funded her experiments had fought tooth and nail to keep her out. They were bankrupt now.

“That’s what we still need to find out, ma'm. If we bring what we have now to the coalition, we may be able to answer those questions with a subpoena or shut her down for good.“

Kiera wasn’t one to waste time. In less than two hours, they set up a secure holo-conference in the East Coast Coalition Building. Across the table, the sparkling holograph of select interceptors and Paul Moss listened attentively to the findings of I.T.

“Do we know who her suppliers are?” A man with a low ponytail and sharp blue suit leaned forward. He was an interceptor and marine biologist who was assigned to the Atlantic ocean. He represented a smaller interceptor company.

Kiera nodded, “Yes, Robert.“, and shared two photos suspended in midair.

The first depicted a lean and muscular dark-skinned woman in black. The second, an equally dark man in militia gear who was smiling. “Black Snake and Dogg. They primarily work from South America, which we assume is their origin. 'Dogg' stands for Sam Diggs, who’s a mercenary turned trafficker. His daughter, Serendipity Diggs, is most likely the brain behind the operation. From what we know, she’s only been involved in the Jawal trafficking rings. Her father has a considerably longer rap sheet.” 

“And why not clean house? Send a task-force after the three of them?“ Paul asked speculatively. Kiera shook her head and was going to answer when Ophelia interrupted.

“Because we need to find out who Monique is working for.“ The Indian woman leveled an apologetic gaze at Kiera, but made a gesture for permission to continue.

Kiera nodded, slightly miffed. She’d prepared diligently for this meeting and wanted to get through all the points in adequate time.

Kiera found herself less offended when Ophelia’s information proved worthwhile.

“We stationed our own surveillance at Heissman’s centers. Our resident humanoids-,“ she pulled up her a slide featuring an image of the lithe and fast humanoid speaking to the mad scientist in a parking lot.

“-have made repeated contact with her in the USA, at her northeast testing centers. In addition, we found this-” Another image, more pixelated, showed the familiar faces of Black Snake,

Monique Heissman and the lithe humanoid with caged Jawal, in addition to another figure clad in red and metallic grey.

“So you believe they’re working with another party.“ Kiera concluded.

The debate became whether they should nip Heissman’s conspiracy in the bud by pressing charges for illegal ownership of Jawal, or let it play out to find the mystery party involved.

Kiera believed in containing the problem while it was still small, but the majority of the coalition agreed to find out more before moving in.

They also wanted to be careful of anything pertaining to the humanoids, who had increased in popularity and influence since their first appearances. 

Politics.

“So we sit on our hands until Christmas?“ Jamie asked once they were back at I.T, taking a swing at Jason who danced backwards in a surprising show of agility. He raised an eyebrow at her comment. 

“I mean, they’re waiting on a red-fitted dude to show up - that sounds like Santa Claus to me.“ Jamie shrugged, rolling under a low-kick delivered by Jason.

They were having a sparring session while Kiera briefed them on the results of the coalition’s meeting.

The CEO was currently leaning against the walls of the the training room, which combined a sleek, minimalist aesthetic of a control center with a central combat arena. Multiple holographic displays and blue vining lights highlighted the training area.

“By the time Santa Claus arrives, it’ll be too late.” Kiera replied under her breath.

She felt uncomfortable waiting for the hammer to fall. If they waited too long to deliver justice, it may give the enemy, whoever they were, time to execute whatever plans they had in mind.

“Then why not go see what Santa’s doing in his workshop?” Jason asked as he sprang back from the low-kick, and capitalized on the reprieve to throw a rapid, three-punch combination.

Jamie blocked the first two with her forearms but managed to duck just under the hook, her puffy pigtails just grazed. "Woah there!" Jamie squeaked, quickly circling to her right and forcing Jason to adjust his stance. She feinted a jab to the body, watched Jason slightly drop his guard, and then shot a quick, roundhouse kick at her opponent's chin. Grazing it, Jason yelped slightly, in surprise.

"Remind me not to underestimate you, short stuff," Jason smiled, throwing his hands up in a gesture of surrender and breathing heavily. Jamie laughed before throwing a couple insults back at him while he got his towel.

Kiera barely remembered to correct her ribbing because she was deep in thought about what Jason said, 

Then why not go see what Santa’s doing in his workshop?

Her deep thoughts were interrupted when Jamie’s phone buzzed. 

“Traffic in the morning, traffic in the night. All around my city in my heart, in my mind.”

Was this Jamie’s new song she mentioned earlier? Jamie ran excitedly to her phone, "Hey, girl!" Jamie answered, still catching her breath.

She mouthed Delilah to the rest of the room.

Jason and Kiera smiled at each other. Sometimes they forgot she was only a teenager.

"Jamie, you must turn on the news!" Delilah’s voice on the other end was urgent. "My teammate, Purpleheart, is having her stage crashed. It's ridiculous!"

Jamie frowned, walked over to the main screen in the room and grabbed the remote. The headline banner blazed across the bottom of the screen:

‘VIGILANTES SAVE 40 FROM COLLAPSED BRIDGE IN ROCHESTER! INTERCEPTORS MIA!’ Onscreen, a man Kiera recognized as the lithe, and fast one, cleared sections of highway debris rapidly, only stopping briefly to smile shyly at the cameras. He didn't wear a mask. The humanoids moved with a practiced, almost professional ease that was designed for onlookers. A purple interceptor stood forgotten on the side, helping individuals out of cars.  

“Wow.” Jason said, watching the screen.

Another clip played: another humanoid—the woman with pink hair - Jamie sucked her teeth - was demonstrating for the flabbergasted interviewer how many old Jawal bite scars were on her arm. She gave an effortlessly pretty smile for the camera. There was something eerie about her beauty. The way Jason stared at her nagged Kiera, for some reason. “H-how?!,” the anchor shouted before regaining her composure. “We confirmed our immunity, thanks to Monique Heissman’s Testing Centers. The abilities came after. Coincidence, perhaps.” The pink-haired girl continued nonchalantly.

“Coincidence my a-” Jamie started. Jason slapped a palm over her mouth and gave her a look.

Chastised but undeterred, she rambled on with Delilah about what this could do to their brands, while Kiera marched off, her phone blowing up with calls about the recent development. Jason’s own phone was also going off in record time, most likely social media, but another headline kept him glued to the TV screen.