Dinah stared at the large box, it was nearly bigger than her and had been put there by one of the ABB when they weren’t in the workshop. Unfortunately, it was also blocking the way to the storage room where she put her armor and mask.

Humph. Gang members were so lazy and incompetent. She’d have to find a way of motivating them.

Staring at the cardboard box, she frowned, eyes narrowing in concentration as she changed the tools from one hand to the other and extended her free lame, human hand toward it, fingers curled into a grasping motion. Then she frowned harder, arm extended.

With a long, suffering sigh, she lowered the hand.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be able to choke people with your mind soon enough, dear Mistress,” Hal patted her shoulder and moved the damn box.

Walking inside, she put on her equipment, grabbed her mask and went back to the main room, sitting at one of Anakin’s work desks.

Carefully, she put on the safety gear before taking out the lenses that covered the mask’s eyes and started working.

Dinah had been annoyed when Anakin vetoed the eyepatch but, in hindsight, it wouldn’t show under the mask anyway, and she had found a workaround.

Tongue poking from the side of her mouth, she adjusted the new lenses on her helmet and smiled. The left side was disguised to look the same as the rest of the mask’s material, making it seem like there was no eyehole, while the right side had a red lamp she could activate when she wanted to intimidate people.

Anakin made it look so easy but, with her age, she had to cheat if she wanted to be taken seriously.

“Ah, I remember when you first started messing with the temple’s droids,” the ghost said, sitting on the sofa and eating a bag of chips. “Good times.”

In the beginning, Dinah hadn’t been able to see Uncle Obi. She had thought Anakin was talking to the dark voices in his head, fighting off the evil influence of his power that wanted to consume him, to break free and lay waste to his enemies… which was so cool!

Uncle Obi was cool too, and she liked it when he told her stories of Anakin when young, he was just not as cool as the dark temptation of the voices.

Still, she wasn’t completely wrong, there was the Dark Side, so he did fight against the evil within.

Putting on the helmet, she smiled and turned to Anakin, activating the red lamp and making her eye shine ominously. “So, what do you think?”

“Very impressive,” Anakin had to admit, sipping from a coffee mug while looking at her newly created lenses.

“You should install some air circulation at the back,” Uncle Obi suggested. “This one liked to make his cape flutter with the Force, but I bet you can make it do that with some air vents, and it will make the armor more comfortable to wear.”

“I did not use the Force to flick my cape,” Anakin said, frustrated.

“Riiiight, and all those times your cape was waving while in space were coincidences. Star’s end, I knew I should have corrected it when you were younger.”

Anakin dropped the tool he had been using and pinched the bridge of his nose. With frustration, he asked. “Why didn’t you then?”

“Ah, let me see if I remember,” Uncle Obi-Wan bit into another ghostly snack, then changed his voice. “Flair for the theatrical, he has. Rebellious age, he is. Mention it, we will not, only encourage him, it will.”

Dinah let Uncle Obi bicker with Anakin and looked back at the large box, wondering what exactly was inside it now that she had finished her helmet.

Opening the container, she stared inside. There were a lot of smaller cardboard boxes filled with a collection of cylindrical objects, they were all different shapes and could fit on her hand, kind of like they were made for throwing.

Lifting one of the boxes with six cylinders, she read ‘Sand Grenade, based on Sere’. Looking at another, she saw. ‘Time grenade, based on Grey Boy’. “Coooool. Hey, Jun left us Bakuda’s old bombs, can I take some?”

Turning away from Uncle Obi, Anakin looked at the box and the sand grenade in her hand, then he shuddered. “What are the chances you’ll hurt yourself with one of them?”

“One point five, seven, nine, nine, three percent,” she said, her face growing eager.

“Very well, you may get rid of the… devices.”

“Ah, letting children play with explosives, very responsible, Anakin,” Uncle Obi scolded him.

“What? But she’s not going to hurt herself?” Anakin asked, confused. “I have been dealing with thermo-detonators for Watto since I was 5. Besides, wasn’t it you who took me to fight Krayn’s slavers at 13? I remember having grenades thrown at me, at least she’ll be the one throwing them this time.”

“... Fair point.”

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she said, giving Anakin a quick hug before ordering Hal to grab one of each grenade and running towards the door. “I’m going out with Hal. Bye Uncle Obi, bye Ani.”

“What are the chances you’re attacked by anyone?” Anakin made sure to ask.

“Ugh,” Dinah complained, she only had a few questions left! “Three point two, seven, nine, two, one percent.”

“Very well, stay on ABB territory and come home for dinner,” Anakin waved her goodbye, then turned back to his friend? Adopted brother? Dinah didn’t know what relationship they had. “What? I made the droid to protect her, what’s the worst that can happen, she brings back a scruffy, womanizer smuggler?”

“You know, you should really thank that smuggler,” Uncle Obi said with amusement.

“Please, Leia could do so much better.”

“Yeah… Did I ever tell you about her kissing Luke?”

Anakin spewed his coffee, coughing. “WHAT!”

Dinah snickered, then rushed out of the workshop, Hal put on a long, brown cloak that hid his entire body, a cowl covering his head so nobody could see he was a robot, then followed after her, closing the door.

Taking out her leather glove, she revealed the robotic hand in all its shining glory, then sent a command through the visor. With a ‘click,’ the hand reconfigured itself into a grenade launcher and she loaded one of the grenades based on Narwhal. Dinah still wasn’t good enough to make such modifications herself, but Hal had helped her.

“Where now, oh Mistress mine?”

“The rooftops, capes always run through the rooftops.”

“Ah, of course.

Picking her up, Hal climbed the side of the building like a spider, only much faster. Sitting on his shoulder, they started their patrol. It was a pity she couldn’t leave ABB territory… but she could go to the edge?

Using her last questions, she discovered there was an 80% chance something would happen if she went downtown. Great!

“Onwards!” She pointed.

Hal moved. He wasn’t exactly a comfortable ride, but she couldn’t jump buildings yet, and Anakin hadn’t installed a jetpack on her armor… could he install a jetpack? She’d have to ask.

A few minutes later, she heard it, the sound of fighting, a few gunshots, and some cursing. Stepping on the edge of the building, she stared down at the street to see the air twisting. A second later, Vista stumbled on the street, her costume dirty.

The small, green girl twisted around, a bent police baton in her arm. She grit her teeth and throws the damaged weapon to the ground, desperately looking around for something else to use. Vista was clearly cursing up a storm, but Dinha was too far away to hear it.

“Not again, bitch,” Hal said from behind Dinah. “That’s what she just said. Very dirty mouth for a pipsqueak.”

Turning a corner, Hookwolf appeared. The bladed creature in the shape of a wolf had a huge dent on his side, but he was already recovering, new blades sprouting from the metal and correcting his shape.

“Take us down,” Dinah ordered.

“Very well, Mistress.”

Grabbing her, Hal leaped from the building, falling on top of a car and utterly collapsing the roof, metal and glass flying everywhere as the two capes paused to stare at their entrance. Dinah approved.

Using her newly acquired dexterity, she jumped down from the robot’s shoulder and flapped her cape, making sure to activate the red lamp on her mask, making her eye shine with crimson light.

Taking a stance, she ignited her lightsaber, tip pointed to the ground, then she put her robotic hand in front of her face, fingers in a gripping motion. “It would be wise to retreat, criminal scum! I will give you one chance.”

Hookwolf stared at her, then at Hal who stepped back behind the car, letting her deal with the situation. “Children shouldn’t play with adults, not when you don’t have Susanoo protecting you.”

“This is my last warning, do not make me unleash the darkness within my arm!” She growled.

“Hmmm, I already intended to teach one kid a lesson, I can make it two,” Hookwolf commented, then he rushed her.

“Dinah!” Vista screamed, voice strangely recognizable.

Dinah smiled under the mask, a single visual order reconfigured her arm and she shot. The grenade flew straight at the villain. Hookwolf dodged, showing far more dexterity than she thought he was capable of.

Fortunately, Anakin had taught how to use grenades; the explosive hadn’t been aimed at him, but at the ground right beside him. Bakuda’s bomb exploded in a wave of purple shards, passing through the street as if there was no resistance and cutting the villain into ribbons.

Hookwolf fell apart, metal pieces continuing to move from Momentum. He wasn’t dead, a central piece quickly started regrowing, blades almost exploding from the surface. Dinah calmly recharged the launcher, putting one of the Grey Boy’s grenades.

“I have given you one chance,” She warned, walking closer with her lightsaber ready. “Do not make me continue. When I let go of my restrictions, I scare even myself.”

Diminished, the villain stared at her, then turned away and started to run away. Dinah flicked her cape and turned away –-Hal was keeping an eye so the villain wouldn’t turn around— then she focused on the ward.

“... that’s so fucking unfair,” Vista cursed under her breath, looking from Dinah’s lightsaber to the damaged street, clear envy in her voice.

“... Missy?” Dinah asked, she knew she recognized that voice.

In her mind, she quickly asked the chances Missy Biron was Vista and it turned out to be 98%,

“Ah, no?” Vista said, looking away from her.

Dinah disassembled her grenade launcher and put both hands on her waist. “You guys do know I’m a Thinker, right?”

“Fine,” Missy grumbled. “Can you, like, not mention this when we rescue you later? I’m not supposed to be out on patrol right now… or engaging a villain.”

Dinah looked at her school friend, the dirty costume, the scraped dress and the bruise on her exposed face. She had always liked Vista but, now that she was a parahuman herself, she couldn’t help thinking about her situation.

As a Thinker, Dinah had been helpless to do anything to protect herself, her power was restricted to information only and it had been incredibly frustrating, she couldn’t even imagine how it felt to HAVE the power to do something, but always be denied it, not even allowed a weapon.

“Say… want to have some ice cream?” She offered.

“No!” Patting her costume down, Missi sighed. “... FIne, anything not to have to go home.”

Inside ABB territory, Dinah called Jun and had the minion bring them into one of their hideouts, another minion quickly bought a liter of ice cream for them to share. Sitting on the balcony, they had Jun prepare ice cream cones for them.

“... And they don’t even give me a teaser,” Missy grumbled. “I had to buy a police baton with my own money! How am I supposed to arrest people if I can’t even beat them?”

“I don’t have a taser,” Dinah tried to be sympathetic, but Missy just stared at her with a frown, then angrily pointed at the lightsaber lying on the balcony without saying a word. “... it’s not a taser.”

“Gah!” Missy bit into her ice cream, taking a big piece off and withstanding the brain freeze without saying a word. “So unfair, and you even get Bakuda’s bombs! I was the one who helped disable her giant EMP and Armsmaster wouldn’t let me near the rest of the grenades!”

Staring at her school friend, Dinah had an idea. Capes used costumes not to be recognized, and she read on PHO that the Protectorate sometimes took villains and changed their names, why couldn’t they do the same?

Looking up from her scone, she asked the question. “Eighty-nine point seven, three, nine percent chance nobody recognizes you if you change costume.”

.

.

.

.

An hour later, Uncle Obi looked up from Anakin’s latest work to see Dinah starting to teach her friend the beginning Matukai exercises. “Hey, look, they’re multiplying!

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