The Armorer

The summer was hotter than I thought it would be; I'd always thought the Pacific Northwest was cool and rainy. It was harder to get used to than the heat of the jungle since I was in and out of air conditioned buildings. Textiles were proving to be something I didn't really have a feel for, so those in the textile development and I kind of parted ways; the work I did for them was providing them with shears that cut tougher textiles, stronger pins, and special needles for the sewing machines. I liked learning new things, but I was getting more orders for new equipment that I needed to focus on.

The team went out on several missions in July and August; I improved the toughness of the casing of Natasha's bracelets and provided armor-piercing arrowheads for Hawkeye after some long-distance consults. Our team was leveling up, but so were the bad guys, and the team had to be reminded to retrieve any part of their ordnance or costumes that would have been left behind so that the bad guys couldn't research the tech. I was carefully building up Steve's new shield; he wasn't able to come out to test it and I didn't have to go full-bore on it like I had on his first shield. I was testing the layers of alloys and coatings, and spent quite a lot of time developing red and blue alloys that wouldn't scratch off like paint. The design would stay pristine unless the shield was actually destroyed. Steve consulted with the PR team and they were set to come up with a new logo, but in the end, the classic star and concentric circles design won out. I provided Sam with a better, stronger metal to attach the wings to his harness; that was the main point of stress in his gear, and metal fatigue was a serious concern. That summer I mostly put my head down and attended my work. Sigurd and Torburn were good company for each other, and I took occasional breaks for playtime. By the end of August, the R&D block was pretty much finished; they were extensively testing the hoods and the HVAC system since temperature is a concern with the more delicate instruments. Then the interior decorators went in. From my perspective, it was nice and quiet in this phrase.

Nick summoned me out to the New York facility just before Labor Day to provide some non-reactive vessels for special hazardous materials transport. While I was there, I'd meet the heads of the departments moving into the new facilities, which would be nice; it would be good to finally see the old labs. Aside from a trip to the dentist, I hadn't left the compound for months. I took advantage of the flight in a private plane to bring some gifts for the others as well-- blades of my latest and what might be my greatest alloy; a metal that kept its edge almost permanently and that actually managed to scratch my skin. I'd been so excited by that discovery that I'd tried again after the accident and when using significant force, managed a nice deep cut. It was good news/dumbass move, because I had to use medical-grade CA glue to get it to close. Also, ow. My nerves weren't as sensitive on the surface of my skin, but underneath they were apparently as keen as ever. I wanted to consult with the medical staff as well to see what medical tools I could make in case I needed treatment. I'd made full-tang knives for the others; they could get the hilts custom made of whatever material they chose. I had a small one for myself that I used frequently in my work; the metal was unreactive, nonmagnetic, fairly nonstick as well, and lightweight; I usually carried it in my pocket. Because I wasn't going to be working working, I wore a long cotton voile skirt and a sleeveless blouse; I had an overnight bag and my crossbody purse and my dogs; Sigurd and Torburn seemed excited to fly, even after I explained the differences between airplanes and the Bifrost.

A steward greeted me when I boarded, having had to boost Torburn up the stairs a little. Sigurd and Torburn immediately investigated the cabin as I got settled, then returned to graciously settle into the crates that had been provided for their safety. Several seats had been removed to make room for them. We settled in for the flight once cruising altitude had been reached; I accidentally spilled the glass of water the steward got for me and requested a bottle of water instead. The steward kindly provided bowls of water for my furry friends as well. I opened my Kindle and settled in, noting when the pilot directed my attention out the windows, when we began to fly over the Rockies. I went back to my book, looking at the sleeping dogs before I did. I smiled; they looked so cute when they weren't chewing things. I wondered if R&D could make tougher, more interesting chew toys for them.

Just then we hit some turbulence, and the pilot requested that I put on my seatbelt. Before I did, I woke the dogs and urged them back into the crates. They seemed tired, but I got them safe inside. I admit I was white-knuckling it a bit; then there was kind of a bang sound and the plane shuddered violently before diving steeply. I shrieked and masks fell down from the bulkhead. I looked around but didn't see the steward; there wasn't a way to get the masks on the dogs, so I put my mask on after texting Nick that we seemed to be going down. I didn't know whether the text would send, and I lost the phone after another bad bump. I bent over in my seat and hugged my knees. I knew that that the pilot would do the best he could to make sure we walked away from the accident, then tried to clear my mind and not panic. All I could hear was the scream of the airplane as the descent continued, then the plane shuddered violently as things hit--trees?--then the aircraft started to tear itself apart.