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Starhawk Chapter 3

Written by castor :: [Tuesday, 21 May 2013 05:51] Last updated by :: [Tuesday, 21 May 2013 11:31]


Chapter 3: Water for Strawberries


by Castor

(with special thanks to Dru1076 for proofreading and editing)



Water this time.

It was lucky that Starhawk was less then a mile away from the aquarium when one of its large tanks went off, thousands of gallons of water and helpless fish went out of the tank among people. When she got there 30 seconds after it happened, water was spilling out of the tank onto 30 or so people, who had already been shattered by glass.

No fatalities…at least among the people. Fish…who knows? But there were lacerations, bruises, and utter shocks. Pain. She could feel it.

And she moved.

Despite her amazing powers, in situations like this they weren’t particularly useful. She could know that about 10 people were really hurt, and the rest would probably be fine. Three were unconscious. However flying at super-speed would not do wonders for back injuries. You couldn't lift people with severe lacerations and internal bleeding.The saltwater wasn't helping. The large tank was still pouring water out at an incredible rate from a large hole in its centre.

She extended her hand. She didn't have super heat-vision, but if she moved her hand out she could create energy that did the same thing. She stuck her hand into the tank … and the remaining 12000 gallons that was spilling out. Vaporized.

For a second she thought of the fish. There where about 120 fish in there … and many corals and crabs. Millions upon millions of little microbes. They all died in less time then it took for her to think of them.

Her job was to save *them*.

Looking at the now empty tank she turned back to the humans. The glass … that she could do something about … but the people on the ground might as well be where they were. A lot of the people on the ground were running away … some where running towards them. Both were useless.

When she heard another glass tank go off.

Down the hall of the aquarium, was a tank with otters, another big one, another mysterious hole. This room thankfully had only two people in it … both far enough away. She grabbed them with her arms and raced out.

When she looked, she saw one of them was a five year old girl.

"Are you an angel?"

She put them down 20 feet away without answering. The otters, she noted in passing, would probably be okay.

Third one … a shark tank. By now the aquarium was mostly empty. And, despite what you may see on TV, when she got there the sharks looked as surprised as anyone that their tank was rapidly emptying of water. She grabbed them in both hands and lifted them, going through the roof of the tank to put them into a smaller one in the back of the upstairs. There they should be okay.

They did not say thank-you. But she didn't need thank-yous. It would have been odd.

Once is chance. Twice is Coincidence.

Three times …?

She extended her senses as far as she could.

It was in a small alley behind the aquarium. Within seconds she was there. It looked like a very pathetic gun, mounted on a camera tripod you could buy at Target. Cheap … which was perhaps the idea. A little pathetic thing. It was attached to a computer. It could shoot out powerful, and very intricate, sonics. It almost certainly could have shot off every pane of glass in the aquarium or within three miles if it wanted … but it didn't.

She walked toward it slowly.

When it shot it at her.

They had, so far, shot 2123 bullets at her. About a dozen large bombs … even artillery. None had damaged her skin. But energy … pure energy … she was vulnerable to. Quite vulnerable in fact. Her body may not truly be human but it was matter, and matter was vulnerable.

But she felt no pain. She felt no pain as the powerful sonics seared all the skin off her. She felt no pain as her muscles and bones cracked to dust. She felt no pain as her brain melted into nothing and her heart, if that was the word, stopped beating. She felt no pain as she was atomized.

For pain wasn't the word.

And for a second she felt free. She felt the entire world and all of its contents.

Then she would have to do it all again.


It was about an hour later when Selma woke up in the alley … naked. She noted that she wasn't in her Starhawk form, but her frail humanity. Somehow that had been a choice. There where still the sound of sirens of car alarms.

She would later learn that the blast that had destroyed her, had broken a lot of car windows in a mile radius, however no more serious damage, especially to the already damaged aquarium. Powerful but close range. Even now she noted that the device was just burning rubble atop a tripod. She groaned, and got up from a fetal position.

She looked at herself. She was covered in a warm abiotic fluid. Gross. She wanted a bath.

What’s more, she wanted a warm shoulder to cry on. She wanted someone to tell her it was okay. That she had done okay.

She thought of the papers. She read them of course. Mostly there was awe. Occasionally there were grumbles … had she really killed all the animals in the main aquarium tank? But what could they say She was, after all, a god to them.

But she wanted to be human.

But right now she just wanted to go home.

However she didn't have her magic credit card, her magic cell-phone. She was alone and naked about 20 miles from her apartment. There was still probably cleanup Starhawk could do. Much to do.

She leaned against the wall and started. Started to rub her breasts gently. She didn't need to feel herself, to feel the soft weight of her breasts in her hands as she did this, certainly … but it did help with the pain. Helped with the butterflies in her stomach.

She looked down, if you looked down and squinted you would see her abs covered in just the slightest amount of flab. As she leaned back she put her fingers inside herself, and started to play, she watched the show. In time with the movement of her expert fingers, her abs began to pop. Slowly expanding from the flesh around them much as her clitoris did out of its hood. A four-pack appeared as notches appeared in her stomach. Then more definition … slight lines through all of them. She bent her back more, arching forward as they started to push out … they didn't grow much, but their growth expanded slowly as her increasingly fast movements pushed farther. They pushed out into a flat grid across her waist, becoming hard and flowing in power, pushing out her obliques as her waist trimmed. Her fingers were a blur at almost super speed. She looked at her arm and felt it plump as well … she lifted it and cried from her now too sensitive clit.

She felt pain. But this helped

As she came and came, she gushed fluid like those tanks did earlier creating a massive puddle on the ground.

And in a flash she was Starhawk.


The next day she and Karen went hiking in the Wisconsin Dells. No real part of the area was mountainous or hilly, but it was wilderness. She had never been hiking as such. She had spent some time in the wild area getting used to her powers, and had passed over this area dozens of times, but hiking? No. It was different. They had hiked about 4 miles.

Her human form took a fair amount to get tired. It was itself quite powerful. She could lift about a ton, and run a mile in about a minute. Still there was an inkling of fatigue. She enjoyed that. She enjoyed the smells, the forest.

But she mostly enjoyed Karen.

Her companion was wearing tight jean shorts that showed off her strong legs, larger and stronger than hers in this form. Well larger at least. Her cut off shirt showed, if not abs, the inkling. It was interesting. As was her smile, and her scent.

And when they reached a quiet pond at the end of the trail. Her kisses.

They where sweet. That was the word. Sweet. She had enjoyed many forms of sugars, carbs. Sweet was the word they grouped together with the emotion she was feeling, and it fit. It felt tender gentle, soft delicious. Hers.

A tone of possession entered her brain. Which confused her … everything she did in a way was for all. Though in a sense she owned materials … good; her energies and thoughts had been devoted to the common good. To want … to possess something, or in this case someone, felt utterly alien. And for a moment shocking. She broke the kiss.

She looked Karen in the eye, who saw her expression. Was it rejection? She wanted to comfort her, to make it feel better, to make it seem as if she wasn't leaving her, she wanted …

She wanted.

she closed her eyes for a second realizing that she was loosing something, loosing something important. But then she leaned in and kissed her and all her fears went away.


Somewhere, It smiled. If It could be said to be able to smile.


Daison sat up. He had survived the explosion at the lab by virtue of being behind a metal desk. If it had been a half time more powerful it would have shredded that to shrapnel and him too. But it didn't. That was the way with explosions. He was shocked bruised and had spent the last week in the hospital. But he was alive.

He had asked his colleagues to bring him a laptop. He looked at it. Something was going on. Something he needed to figure out.

Most detective books, and detective shows, tend to work on the theory that you find all the clues then the perp, the who-did-it. Really it worked in reverse. Mostly he found out who did it then work backward to find the clues. He knew they would be if he looked hard enough.

And he started to look.


They didn't actually make love, though Selma knew that’s what it would have been. But she wanted to. And so did Karen. She didn't need superpowers to know that. But they didn't … and somehow that made it better.

Instead they laid on the grass next to the pond. Selma had brought strawberries in her bag … and somehow realized that was the exact right thing to bring. Karen smiled. "Ooooooooh. You know, I can't remember the last time I had strawberries."

"Really?" said Selma. She had been on earth for about a year now, and had them many times.

"Just because your out and about, and your living life … you don't always get strawberries. They’re not something you normally eat."

Selma paused. "Even ice-cream". She thought aloud. “I love strawberry ice-cream"

"Nope" Karen replied "Chocolate vanilla … they do stuff with cookie dough. I haven’t had strawberry ice-cream for a couple of years"

Selma could barely comprehend this. "You’re strange"

Karen realized something. "So are you. Tractor factory worker. You’re so … innocent.

"I’m not a virgin" Selma blurted. That much was very true.

"But still. Aphrodite used to bathe in the foam to restore her innocence each year". Her college years did not go to waste.

"I am not a godess" Selma said with some forcefulness. More then she knew she had. There was more power behind the words then a 100 tons. "I am just … I am just yours … to do with as you wish. Take me. And let me have you … ”

Selma paused "Wait that sounds very weird."

Karen giggled "Like I was saying"


It was night time before she got back to her car. She realized she had left her cell-phone there. She checked it. Nothing major … a couple of small fires, one fatality. The FBI was still investigating the device and wanted to talk to her. Traffic … nothing nothing nothing.

200 people had died in Chicago that day. 3 from gunshots, though she had already learned there wasn't much she could do about that. The death and decay became part of the noise in her head.

She did what she could. That was what was important …

But questions developed in her mind as she drove back into the city. How would she tell her was a big one, and how would she respond when she did? There were numerous good scenarios of course … these were in fact the greater possibility.

But what if she rejected her? This frightened Selma. More in fact then the sonic cannon had yesterday. More then anything she had ever faced on Earth. These could in fact just destroy her body. She could grow a new one in a matter of minutes. But that … that could *hurt* her. Her. The part that actually had some meaningful existence. The part that had feelings and wants and desires. Beyond the flesh.

A poet may say that she had a soul. And that was one word for it, the best word any human could come. But it was not quite.

The thought gripped her as she gripped the wheel. She noted that she bent the wheel slightly … it wasn't steel but fiberglass. Her human muscles could damage it as perhaps anyone’s. But it was real. The fear. What if not now … but what if 10 years from now?

And what if not in 10 years? Time had little meaning to her … She would remain fair till the sun decayed into entropy. But she knew Karen was not that way. Was there something she could do about that? She would think.

But then a third thought came. Slightly more insidious. What if she did accept her? What if she did love her back?

What if she worshiped her?

She knew that in town several small but devoted groups had come to worship her as a god. She had laughed it off to be honest. But she wasn't laughing now. What if Karen became her high priestess?

That would not do at all. she wanted to love her … to love Selma Harding tractor designer.

(Note to self, she thought: Got to do something about tractors … have to do something real with tractors.)

Selma wasn't real, not really. But she wanted Karen to love her. She wanted that love to be real.

When she got home, she sat in a tub and thought … thoughts. Maybe Starhawk should go away … give a speech telling humanity is ready but she will always be watching … then Karen and Selma could be together. There were a thousand steps to make Selma real. She could buy a tractor company … or maybe just open up some kind of engineering or consulting firm. That sounded more logical. And just go to work each day come home to a bank manager and be happy.

What if Karen wanted children? She herself couldn't have any … or could she? But that could be taken care of. She could alter her body to age, to grow old with her. That was simple enough. She could just … be.

She thought of it through the night.


And elsewhere … It laughed.

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