Krissie and I got to the cafeteria just in time – we weren’t the last to arrive, but it was close – that honor went to Jimmy, who was struggling with his pants and his cat tail. 

 

                “I really need to figure something better out than this.”  He muttered.  I looked over and saw his jeans had a little slit with a button on top to allow his tail to fit the pants better.  It looked ingenious, but it was obviously a little uncomfortable for Jimmy, who kept shifting to see if it felt better.

 

                “Thank you, Jimmy.”  Ms. Potter began.  “If everyone is ready, I have some announcements before you begin you first day of training.  As you may know, emerged crime and altercations with the emerged have not stopped because you are not fully trained – and because of this, we’ve set up a training schedule, where some of you are on active duty with metro Toronto police officers, and where some of you are training here at school.  We’ll switch it out every few days – so some of you will always be on ‘active duty’ while the rest of you are ‘on call.’  You’ll be dressed as Police Officer Trainees for the time being, and you’ll be partnering with two senior officers.  Try to learn as much from them as you do from your classes – if not more.”

 

                Ms. Potter handed out schedules to everyone – and I noticed that today I was on patrol.  Krissie and Mike were too, as well as Cliff.  Not a bad mix, I thought.  A Sorceress, a Tiger-Man, a Telekinetic and Supergirl.  At least we’d cover a number of different bases if things got really weird.

 

                “Do we use callsigns, Ms. Potter?”  I asked.  “Or do we use our own names?”

 

                “I’d prefer if you used a callsign – your personal information is known by the government, and unless you want to go public, no one else needs to know.  You might want the anonymity to keep your family and loved ones safe – some of these emerged bad guys are really psycho.”

 

                “Oooh!  Callsign party!”  Ellie called out.  “I’m Metallica!”

 

                “Ummm… Actually, the government had a few consultants brought in to help design a team costume and some codenames.  I’ll have to check with them before we decide on anything permanent…”

 

                Cliff growled.  “We don’t even get to name ourselves?  This is bullshit!”   The general consensus around the table indicated the feelings were pretty mutual for everyone.  “What names did they pick for us?”

 

                Nadine looked embarrassed, and sighed.  “I told them this wasn’t going to work – I want you all to know that.  But someone in the bureaucracy decided to get a consultant to arrange for family friendly names that didn’t infringe on anyone’s copyright licenses. 

 

                The cries of dismay this time were much louder – my own included.  Nadine could see our stormy faces, and the displeasure in our attitudes.  “I’ll give you the preliminary list they came up with… let me know what you think, so I can tell them honestly where to shove their consultant and their panel.”

 

                 Nadine handed out the list of supposed super-names, and almost immediately the cries of anger and annoyance filled the room!

 

                “Techno-Cat?” Jimmy growled.  “What the fuck were they thinking?”

 

                “Hey – does that mean when you’re on the street you’re having a Techno-Kitten Adventure?”  Cliff laughed.

 

                “Shut it, Cliff – that Xbox game was underrated.  What was your name, big man?”

 

                Cliff growled, and nearly spat the words out.  “Mr. Mindbender – apparently cause I can bend things with my mind.  Idiots.”

 

                “Yeah, well they want to call me “Mysti-Gal!” Krissie groaned.  “How about you, Dom?”

 

                “Rocky.  Friggen Rocky.  Some asshole is going to scream ‘Adriaaaaaaaaaan’ when I arrest his farking ass.  Jesus… who hired these guys?”

 

                “Yeah – like have any of them read a comic book in the last 50 years?  There’s no way I’m going out with the name Ms. Mental”  Jessica groused, and frowned when Cliff broke out laughing, and a half dozen snickers came from others.

 

                I looked at my nickname, and groaned.  No – they couldn’t use Guardian, which I’d already used with the police… No – they went with Mighty Maid.  Jesus H. Christ on a popsicle stick.  “Ms. Potter… There is no way in hell I’m calling myself Might Maid.  Just No.”

 

                “There is no goddamn way these stuffed shirts and suits are calling me ‘Captain fucking Canada!” Mal called out.  “I saw what happened with that movie.  Hell no.”

 

                “You think you’ve got it bad?  My nick was Pachu…”  said Rain.  “I think they meant ‘Good Luck’, but in local slang it means the sound the toilet makes when a turd hits the water.  Who did they get to do their translations?  Google?!  Seriously!”

 

                “They named me ‘White Tiger’.”  Mike replied.  “Not very imaginative.”

 

                “Yes, well.”  Kumar began.  “They named me Elastic Man.  I think there might be a conflict of copyright there at the very least.  And If not, still no.  At least they didn’t name me Captain Turban.”

 

                “So, Emile, Karen.  What did they call you?”  Ben called out.  “They called me Warper… like WTF?”

 

                I laughed.  “Mighty Maid… I can’t fucking believe it.  Mighty Maid.  What about you, Emile?”

 

                Emile hung his head, looking a bit red with annoyance.  He muttered under his breath – but had to say it again when no one heard him…  “Darkwing.  They want to call me Darkwing.”

 

                Krissie giggled… and began to sing.  “Darkwing Duck!  When there’s trouble you call DW.  Darkwing Duck… Let’s get Dangerous!”  At that point, she couldn’t keep the laughter in, and broke down giggling.  “They named you after a Disney cartoon, Emile.”

 

                “I am NOT amused.”  Emile said, glowering. 

 

                Nadine stood there, her jaw dropped at the horrifically bad names, and it was obvious that she could feel a full on revolt brewing.  “Yeah, these names aren’t going to work, are they guys?”

 

                A chorus of Noes and Hell Noes filled the air, with some people even tearing their sheets with names up into little pieces or crumpling them into balls. 

 

                “Well, fuck it.  I might get in trouble with my boss – but make your own names.  I’ll let the brass know they screwed this one up.  We’ll sort out the lawsuits and all that later.”

 

                Everyone nodded, and agreed. 

 

                “Well, take a few minutes over breakfast to think about a more acceptable code name and I’ll make sure it gets approved unless it’s ridiculous.  After breakfast, a car will be coming for you four – Krissie, Mike, Cliff, and Karen.  They’ll take you to the station, and get you settled with your patrol partners, and you’ll be theirs for the next eight to twelve hours.” 

 

                “Yes, Ma’am.”  I replied, as did the others, in their own way. 

 

                “Jimmy… How is that project for a team uniform coming along?”  Nadine asked.

 

                “It’s going.  I’ll be done in a day or two, I think.  Once the fabric is made, I’ll need to see a patent lawyer before I turn anything over – no offence.”

 

                “None taken, Jimmy.  We’ll see that get’s done.”  Ms. Potter turned to the rest of us.  “Jimmy has been working on a new type of cloth that will act as armor, and which will not get destroyed easily through the use of your powers.  He claims it should be able to transform or stretch with you, when you use your powers.”

 

                “It will when I get the formula right.  I’m really close!”  Jimmy agreed.

 

                Everyone nodded, and congratulated Jimmy on his new tech…  It didn’t take a genius to see that Jimmy was going to be obscenely rich in short order with sales or licenses from his new inventions.  Good for Jimmy!

 

                “That’s about it.  I’ve got some information here about your classes.”  Ms. Potter said as she handed out the folders.  “There’s one for everyone, but the classroom times might be different because of the patrol schedules.  If anyone notices a major conflict, let me know.”  Nadine waited for us to take the papers, and then motioned for us to go grab something to eat.

 

                Hungry, and a little annoyed at the naming disaster, I got up and headed into line to join the others in bitching about their almost-names, and grabbed some breakfast.

 

 

*              *              *

 

 

                After breakfast, Krissie and I returned to our room and got dressed in what passed for our uniform at the moment – Black slacks with a red pinstripe, a black button-down shirt with MRT patches on the shoulder, a Kevlar vest that said “Police Trainee” and a nylon jacket that also said “Police Trainee.”  We also had a belt for carrying basic stuff like a radio, handcuffs, notepad, pen, and so forth, and a uniform hat.  We didn’t carry a gun. 

 

                “You look pretty amazing, Karen.”  I said to myself in the mirror.  I did look pretty good, I thought.  “Hey Krissie!  You ready?”  I called out as I headed to our dorm’s front door.

 

                “Yep!”  Krissie said, coming from her room…  She looked way better than I did – and I realized she had some nice makeup on – it made her look a bit more professional that I felt.  Dammit.  I’m going to have to learn how to do that.

 

                “I’m jealous.  Can you show me how to put on makeup later, Krissie?”

 

                “Huh?  Yeah sure – It’ll be fun!  We should get going though – don’t want to keep our new partners waiting do we?”

 

                “Nope!”

 

                Pepsi ran over to us, and walked between our legs, and headbutted me before we left.  “Bye, Pepsi!  I’ll see you later!  I promise!”  I picked her up and gave her some cuddles – getting some cat fur on my uniform.  Oh well.  We said goodbye to Pepsi and headed out. 

 

                Outside, Cliff and Mike were already waiting.  “Hey guys!”  I called out.  “Where’s our ride?”

 

                Mike snorted.  “Not here yet.  You figured a good code name yet?”

 

                “Yeah!  I’m going with Guardian.”

 

                “I’m going with Sabertooth – since my tiger form is practically a sabertooth tiger.”  Mike replied.

                “I think I’m going with Impulse.”  Cliff said.  “What about you, Krissie?”

 

                “It sounds stupid.”  She replied, looking embarrassed. 

 

                “C’mon, Krissie.  It can’t be worse than Mystigal, can it?”  I whispered.

 

                “Lady Arcane.  I was going to call myself Lady Arcane.”  Krissie said.

 

                “That’s an awesome name, honey.”  Cliff replied, tenderly – a little out of sorts for his big, bluff appearance.  “That name rocks.”

 

                “Yeah, it sounds badass!”  Mike joined in.

 

                “See, Krissie.  It’s awesome and you’re awesome!”  I joined in.  “I think I hear our ride coming.”

 

                “Damn super hearing.  How far away is it?”  Cliff asked.

 

                I pointed down the block, as we saw the police van turn the corner and enter the parking lot.  It was a white mini-van with a red and blue stripe, and proudly bore the word POLICE on the side.  There was only a single officer driving – a young black man in his mid twenties.

 

                He pulled up beside us, and leaned over to the window.  “If you guys are the MRT, hop in!”  We all hopped in – Cliff took the front seat, and Mike, Krissie and I took the back seats. 

 

                “My name is Police Constable David Harcourt,”  He said cheerily.  “What are your names – I mean, whatever code name’s you’re going by – we were told to avoid real names unless you offered them.”

 

                “I’m going by Sabertooth.”  Mike replied.  “The two ladies are Lady Arcane – she’s the redhead, and the blonde is Guardian.  The man in the front seat is Impulse.”

 

                “Nice to meet you.”  David replied.  “It is super awesome actually meeting you guys.  Everyone on the force has been talking about you since the prime minister said you would be embedded with us.”

 

                “They looking forward to it?”  Cliff asked.

 

                “What? Oh hell, no.  Most of the police think it’ll be a giant clusterfuck, but they’re willing to see how it plays out.  Maybe it’ll work?”

 

                “Nice to hear we’re basically persona non-grata.”  I remarked.

 

                “Nah – it’s not that, Guardian.  A lot of us still remember what you and Sabertooth and a few others did here in Toronto – and you saved a lot of lives.  A lot of the guys think this is a bullshit publicity stunt by the federal government and that it’s going to blow up in our faces.”

 

                “Well, just so you know, it’s not a publicity stunt for us.  We really want to help.”

 

                “Well, if you want any advice from me, if you want to help, listen to what your drive-along officers tell you.  They’ve been on the streets for years, and they know what’s what.  If they tell you to do something, do it – and if they tell you to do nothing, do that.  A lot of what works on the street you don’t learn in a classroom.”

 

                “Fair enough.”  I replied.  “How bad is it on the streets?  Have the emerged been causing a lot of damage?”

 

                “To be honest, about half the calls involving the emerged we’ve been getting involve normal people attacking the emerged – and the other half are superpowered emerged doing criminal stuff.  A lot of domestic disputes and fights – some lady finds her husband is now a Dog-person and wants a divorce, you know – that kind of thing.  There’s also a bunch of people who think that the emerged are demons or against gods will or something and have engaged in hate crimes.  The worst are the people who just attack them cause they’re different.  The super-powered ones are something else.  Sometimes we can stop them – sometimes we can’t.  There’s already a couple of big names we’re hunting – a couple of them you’ve fought, Guardian.  Some guy named Rhino and his buddy Trash Panda?  Apparently Trash Panda got some high tech weapons and is trying to change his name to Rocket Raccoon or something, but everyone still calls him Trash Panda.”

 

                I laughed… “Those names stuck!  OMG!”

 

                “Yeah.  Not too funny when you consider he’s put four cops in the hospital and killed one.”  David replied, a little grim. 

 

                I nodded, realizing the severity of the situation.  It was no laughing matter.

 

                “Who are the other ones?”  Cliff/Impulse asked David.

 

                “There’s a girl calling herself Misdemeanour, who seemed to be a petty thief at first, but now she’s been stealing top secret files from corporations all over the city.  We assume it’s to sell as corporate espionage.  She’s ridiculously agile, and can teleport – which makes her a tough nut to catch.  She also uses it to attack anyone who tries to stop her.  She’s not really dangerous – but a lot of people want her head for stealing their intel.  Another is a real piece of work.  A guy from Haiti – one of the bad ones that slipped through the screening process – is calling himself Machete and is building a gang in east Scarborough by decapitating the leaders of the other gangs.  Some people even say he can raise the dead.  He’s creepy as fuck and wears face paint to make his face look like a skull.”

 

                “Jesus, that’s psycho.”  Cliff/Impulse replied.

 

                “Totally.  He’s just a murderer scumbag.  No one knows where his gang hides out though – at least not yet.”

 

                “That the entire rogue’s gallery?”  Cliff asked.

 

                “Most of them, at the moment.  There might be more after the weekend.  Check with your partners.”

 

                We all nodded, and soon we arrived at the Toronto Police Headquarters, where we were apparently being farmed out to various Police precincts and divisions.

 

                “Thanks for the help, David.”  I called out as we climbed out of the van.

 

                “You’re welcome, Guardian.  Glad to help – and I’m glad to have met all of you.  Knock ‘em dead!”

 

                “It’s nice to see at least one cop think we’re going to be something other than a clusterfuck.”  Mike muttered.

 

                “Yeah, definitely.  Let’s go inside and see our partners!”  I said – and we all headed inside to find out what the day had in store for us.