Chapter 1: Origin Story

June 17, 1988 at a remote spot on the Shoshoni Indian reservation in Utah. Three men are standing around drinking beers next to a pickup truck. They're dressed in jeans and white shirts, but the word 'Agent' is still written all over their faces and posture.

Daryl Proudfeather doesn't much like these two. He's been on this case for three weeks now and doesn't much appreciate the company of men like them -men whose fathers had worked to break the backs of A.I.M. nearly two decades ago.

Still they're good, and he's a lot closer to figuring out who killed Jenny Whitehair. Maybe too close, he hasn't said anything, but he's got a feeling he's drinking a beer right now with the killer. If he could only pin it down to one of them he could take this back to Washington and be out of here. He's not fond of life on the Res, he got this job to get him and his little sister out of it after mom died.

He looks up to the trees and sees him. Owl. Waiting there, watching him. 'Damn' He hears the cocking of the gun behind him. "So I was right then?" he doesn't bother to turn around.

"Damn Injun! Why'd they have to send you out here anyway?" agent Silverton sneers at him. Agent O'Donovan is silent.

Hundreds of miles away in Oakland California a young 4 year old girl wakes up screaming. She knows. Big brother isn't coming home. All she has left now is Auntie Nessa, her brother's girlfriend.

When the men leave, Owl takes Daryl's spirit away. Owl brings him to his father, and his father's father. Bringing him home. Three weeks later when they find the body the coroner rules it death by exposure "Damn Injun must've got drunk and lost. Damn Injun's is always getting drunk out there. Damn fools." Never mind the big hole in the back of his head. "Must've hit a rock when he fell down." Never mind the FBI bullet lost in the trashcan. These things happen, it's just another dead Injun.

Nessa was a good stepmother -loving the girl with all her heart. Her family had pressured her to put the girl up for adoption. To move on, forget about it. 'You don't need some orphan Native American holding you back'. It's not even your kid. You never even married the guy. But Marya was all she had left of Daryl. She raised her like it was her own daughter. She had her own daughter; she treated them like blood sisters -two near twins, a year apart- one black, one brown.

When the girl got a scholarship to Berkeley, she was proud, like it had been her own daughter. And it was by then, they were a family stronger than blood -her, Marya, and Tisha.

Marya Proudfeather remembers the day her brother died like it was yesterday. 14 years later and she can still see his face. She can still hear his voice. Still hear him saying goodbye in her dreams as Owl took him away. Somewhere in her mind, she knows who did it; she just hasn't put the final pieces together yet. When she does, there will hell to pay.

Jason Silverton was a man on the right track. After solving the Jenny Whitehair case he got the promotion an agent dreams of. Assigned to the Guard -America's premiere Super Squadron- on their west coast investigative unit. At 50 he had a fancy flat in San Francisco's Marina and a comfy desk job heading up that same unit. His men found the crooks and the evidence; then called in the supers for the bust. He was also high up in the local KKK. It was a small group in this diverse community; but somebody had to do the Lord's work, and Jason felt the calling. He'd even thought of becoming a pastor at his Baptist church, till they let that nigger family join. To bad about O'Donovan though, lost in 93 somewhere south of Tijuana. These things happen, just another dead Irishman.

UC Berkeley, Auguest 20th, 2002. Marya Proudfeather sat outside of Sproul hall going over her class schedule. There were new faces all around her, speaking in a flurry of languages; it was the first day of school. Tisha sat next to her "Marya check him out... that boy is fine..."

Marya looked up to see the object of her sister's three second infatuation, a tall blond boy in a well pressed deep blue suit. "A bit over dressed though, hardly your type."

"What-ever... I could use some vanilla like that in my chocolate."

"You're just putting his face on Keith's bod anyway, like always..." Marya rolled her eyes.

"Say, don't he look familiar though?" Tisha squinted to get the sun out of her view.

Marya covered her forhead and took a good look at the boy now talking to a group of young women across the plaza. "Hmm... wait... isn't he... Sparrow! That's Sparrow from the Guard, no wonder he's got that suit on."

"Sparrow? Mongoose's old sidekick? What's he doing here?"

"Even supers gotta go to college Tisha... Girl you really need to study more."

Tisha sighed "You're just like mom sometimes you know..." Truth was, Tisha got better grades, but she played the dumb black chick to sound cool.

A boy across from them took a second look; they sure didn't look related, not that he'd toss them out of bed either way anyway.

Tisha was 17, tall, and stacked like a brick house -dark skin, powerful muscles, full breasts, and a fully rounded rear. She had long black braids framing the lovely face of an African queen with deep eyes you could drown in and lips that left the mind wandering down dirty roads.

Marya was a little shorter at around 5 foot 6, with a curvy figure like her 'sister', but on a smaller scale and lacking the muscle tone. Her skin was a deep reddish brown, her eyes black and her hair straight, thin, and coming down to mid breast. Her face spoke of her full Cherokee ancestry with its strong angles and prominent nose yet exotic beauty.

Both girls had blossomed well. Both were dressed in hip hugging jeans and cotton T's which left their navels bare. Tisha's was pierced with a gold stud, Marya's bare.

"Hey, aren't you supposed to be hang'n with Keith anyway?" Marya asked.

"Oh my god! What time is it?"

Marya laughed. Poor Keith must be used to this by now... He probably made a habit of being late just to be 'on Tisha time'. She looked at her watch "You're half an hour late girl, better run."

"Oh my god!" Tisha jumped up and bounced around. "I hope he's not mad... I gotta go."

Marya began to say bye, but her sister was already halfway to Telegraph by then. Instead she shook her head and chuckled. Poor Keith indeed... Sometimes she wondered how that boy put up with Tisha, he seemed so nice...

When it happened, it was all very sudden. A matter of seconds really. Marya was walking in a wooded area between buildings, off to her first class -English 1A. Sparrow was behind her, minding his own business, glad to be away from the fans who'd spotted him; watching a nice piece of ass moving on her way up ahead. Neither of them spotted the ambush. Neither saw Volcano waiting for his chance.

He'd been waiting on this moment for weeks. That fool Sparrow hadn't bothered to hide his identity like Mongoose always had. Kid thought he was some kind of superstar, immune to the consequences of his actions. Volcano wanted to get even; the Guard had busted his team up months before. It had been brutal, only he'd got away. The papers said he'd been killed, but he knew better. So did Guard, but they weren't talking. They never told it like it was.

Now he had him, if he could get the shot right. If that damn chic would get out of the way. Ready... Aim... there she goes, come on sister, a little to the left... that's it... Now!

Volcano stepped from the bushes, letting loose with the full power of his famous napalm effect. "Oh shit!" that stupid Mexican chic tripped on something, she fell right into the blast.

Sparrow spotted it right as Volcano let loose. He didn't even stop to think; he let loose with his siren cry -a piercing sonic wave that could rip concrete off a steel wall. That piece of ass forgotten in the moment.

Marya was hit from both sides. She went down in a ball of fire and ripped up concrete, her clothes ashes before she hit the ground.

Both supers looked on in horror. 'Oh shit, what'd I do?' Volcano thought. 'She's gotta be dead, I better get out of here before Sparrow comes to his senses.'

'Damn! How did she get in the way?' Sparrow thought. 'I ain't going down for no spic. My career's too important for this. I gotta get out of here.'

They both fled the scene, neither checked to see if Marya was ok.

She was, but she didn't know it. She was in too much pain. Ever wonder what it feels like to be bathed in napalm? How about what it feels like when you can feel it, but it just keeps going and doesn't burn you up?

However there was a third force none of them saw. Coyote'd been watching over the girl; he was the one who put the rock under her feet to trip her. Always up to his tricks, the old dog hadn't seen the two mortals until it was too late. He'd lost her brother when he wasn't paying attention all those years ago, he didn't want to lose her now. Coyote froze Marya in time, at the moment of impact. He considered his options. She had soul, even more than Daryl, even more than their great great grandmother... she was his after all; the whole line of them were, after that day in the snow when he'd sired the first of them. She was the last.

She was pretty cute... A devilish idea sprang into him. It would fit; she might never peg it down to him. Most of these kids didn't believe in him anymore anyway.

"Well Marya, I can save you, but I can't make everything all right. After all, it's not like I'm a god or something."

Coyote left. Time started for Marya. The burning continued. But the pain was gone -the flesh wasn't melting. The young woman was confused. She couldn't piece together what had happened. One minute she was walking along, heading to class, the next she was on fire.

But it didn't hurt. Then it hit her. "Oh my god! Oh... my... god!" She reached out, as if reaching for the flames around her. "It's... Oh my... I'm... I've just had a freak'n super origin!"

She jumped up, looking around. She was alone. "Yes! This is so freak'n cool! I'm a mutant or something!" Then she realized three things. First, she was still on fire. Second, she was stark naked. Third, her breasts felt suddenly heavy.

She hefted them up "They're freak'n huge! What the heck is that about?" Her hands briefly brushed against her nipples "Ooooh! Damn, girl, sensitive too..." Marya looked down "They're so hard I could cut diamonds with them. Hmmm... I wonder if I could..." She didn't notice the wetness between her thighs; she was still too distracted.

"Gotta put out this fire..." As she said this, she thought about fires going out; the flames pulled back, going into her body. She was glowing red, like hot metal. Then she heard the sound, like a million screeching tires, like all the nails in the world being pulled across a chalkboard. She was still in the middle of a sonic tornado; the fire had blocked her awareness of it.

"Oh my god..." She staggered from the noise, a sound that should have ripped her limb from limb. She leaned into a tree, but it shredded like paper in a sawmill. "Maybe I can pull this one in too..." She thought for a moment "Ok. Sonic Power: De- activate!" Nothing.

"Oh! Duh!" She thought about silence, and it was.

For a moment at least.

"Wow! Cool! A naked super chic!" It was a girl's voice, down the path. A bit familiar.

Marya turned and saw one of Tisha's friends. 'Latoya I think' "Hey..."

"Wow that was so cool how you sucked in all that fire. Sucks what you did to that tree though. Who are you? I've never read about you before."

'She doesn't recognize me. I've got no costume, I'm freak'n nude. Why doesn't she recognize me?'

"Hey are you ok... ? You look kinda funny..."

'Wait! I'm freak'n naked! I gotta get out of here!' Marya ran. And ran. And ran.

Somewhere past a few mountains and into a desert she stopped to collect herself, about twenty minutes later. "Where the hell am I?" She looked around. "This must be like... Nevada or Utah or something. Guess I can't just take off like that." Marya should've paid more attention in geography class.