Skadi versus Science, part 2

“It’s over, Juicer.” Skadi defiantly stated as she looked down at the fallen form of her opponent. “Finished.”

“Excuse me, Miss?” Skadi glanced around, noting the prison guard next to her. “Something wrong?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Just thinking about the last time that the prisoner and I clashed, that’s all.”

“Ah.” The guard nodded slowly. “We don’t get many of you super-types in here, either prisoners or visiting. Can’t say I’ve ever heard of something like this either.”

She glanced over at the small pouch she was carrying, an unusual accessory to her otherwise straightforward costume. “Well then I guess this is a very unusual circumstance for all involved then.”

Under normal circumstances, captured superhumans were held by PRIMUS until they could be transported to Stronghold, their special superhuman containment prison. However, in the cases of those who derived their powers from weapons or powered armour or the like, they would normally be held by a more conventional prison once disarmed. The prisoner Skadi was here to see was one such individual; reliant on technological sources for his power, once they were removed he was no longer a threat.

Of course, it extended beyond just that; if her suspicions were correct, it was unlikely that he would be a threat to anyone very soon.

“We’re ready for you, miss.” The guard spoke up. “This way please”

The pair of them walked down a long hallway, stepping into a small meeting room. Bare concrete save for one barred window, it boasted two chairs and a single table that was clearly bolted to the floor. She figured that, if the worst came to the worst, she could easily rip it free and throw it. Not that she expected to need to.

“We’ll bring him in now.” The guard spoke up. Nodding, she took a seat, waiting patiently. A moment later, the second door opened, a pair of guards entering, a prisoner between them. She watched him intently as he was seated, the two guards looming over him.

Skadi looked up at Juicer – no, Wayne Carella – as he took his seat. The transformation was dramatic; not just for being stripped of his combat armour and in a prison uniform, but the actual physical changes that he seemed to have undergone since she last saw him.

It was clear that they had removed his injection harness; she could see the results that he had described to her once before. He looked to be about a decade older, his face heavy and lined, his eyes sunken and bloodshot. His hair was now lined with grey, while his body was not only clearly less muscular, but seemed to have shrunken somehow. More to the point, it proved that her theories were correct.

She was somewhat taken aback, but tried her best not to show it as he sat down opposite her. The two guards behind remained behind him, both with their weapons ready; however, there was an unspoken acknowledgement that such would not be needed. Skadi was more then capable of stopping him on her own, and in this de-powered state, there was very little he could do against her.

“So have you come to gloat?” he croaked out, doing his best to look her in the eye. It wasn’t easy, given that she towered over him. None the less, he managed to give something of an air of defiance in the face of inevitability. “See what you have reduced me too, Skadi? A helpless old man with only a few years left to live.”

“You burned yourself up against me.” She stated, in a manner of fact tone. “You pushed yourself too hard when you knew that your system was on the verge of breaking down anyway. It was inevitable.”

“It was a do or die situation.” He countered. “I was going to die if I didn’t get what I needed from you. I realised that I had no option; push myself to near death now, or simply die afterwards. And even after the prison wardens pulled the rig off me, I haven’t got much time. My body’s so used to living with the chemicals that it can’t cope without them.” He shook his head and managed a weak laugh. “They both were what was keeping me alive, and what was killing me.”

“And that is why I am here today.” She finally spoke up. “You have a third option.”

He raised a brow. “Which is?”

She reached into the case that she had bought with her, removing a small vial that contained a yellowy-brown liquid inside. “This is a serum made form an extract of my own blood as well as the remnants of the original serum you used.” Skadi explained. “I am going to give it to the prison medics, who will, in turn, administer it to you in regular doses.”

The replaced it, looking him directly in the eyes, matching his angry glare with a determined one of her own. “It won’t give you back your abilities, nor will it replace the juice you were injecting into yourself. What it will do, however, is stabilise your system and help counteract the toxicity of what you had before. In essence, Wayne, it will allow you to live a normal life.”

“But why?” He asked, a look of genuine surprise on his face. “After I tried to kill and gut you…”

She had asked herself that question before she came here, but she’d had enough time to think it through. This had been an action of Jill Vader, the struggling university biochemist, not Skadi, the muscle-bound engine of random destruction; in sense, she had done it because she simply wanted to see what she could do, and to prove that she could solve a problem that nobody else had. In essence, she had done it to show that she was not just big, dumb muscle.

But there had been more to it then just that.

“Because, in a way Juicer, I owe you.” She settled on instead. “Your carelessness and desperation inadvertently made me what I am today. If you had decided on a less rash course of action, then I would not have gained the powers that I now possess – and the ones that I used to stop you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “We are even now. You changed my life, and I have given you yours back. Now it is up to you to make the most of it.” She raised one hand, casually flexing the fingers, knowing full well that Juicer had been on the receiving end of innumerable blows from said hand. They had bought him down in the end, and that was when he was superhuman. Now, he probably couldn’t even take a single hit.

“I understand.” He finally offered, his voice weak. “Thank you, Skadi.”

She stood, case in hand. “I’ll make arrangements with the prison medic to begin your treatment.” She finished. “Unlike you, Juicer, I value life, no matter whose it is. When I defeated you, there was a very brief moment when I was terrified that I had killed you. By doing this, I hope to make up for that. Do not make me regret this charity, Juicer.”

He swallowed loudly, then nodded. “I won’t, Skadi.”

“Good.” She finished. “I’ll get them to send me a report on how it all goes.” With that, she turned to leave.

Behind her, Juicer sat back in his chair, understanding full well what she had said. He’d been given a second chance; true, it wasn’t the one he had hoped for but, at the same time, it was still more then he had expected. Rather then a life measured in months, he still had decades. And he had a very large and angry woman who would be very displeased with him if he made the wrong choices.