[Wanda's still in the Chaos Dimension, dealing with the demons who are all hostile to her presence. We should eventually reach the central area of the dimension.] Alex told Natasha as they walked through the floating fortress to brief the widows about the new mission.
[Any estimate of when she might return?] Natasha asked Alex.
[Honestly, no clue. I can't say how long it's going to take her inside the dimension. And that's without even mentioning the fact that the dimension is synched with space days and not the jumbled time on this Earth. For all we know, she can return in two hours, or two months depending on how time moves here.]
[That means there is a big chance that she won't be here in case something big happens in the near future … That's a lot of firepower that we're down on.]
[Don't worry about that. As long as the widows are sufficiently sustainable with their farming work, we can take care of everything with the Infinity Stones.]
Natasha didn't say anything further as she reached the entrance to the assembly room. Taking a breath, she entered the room as the noise almost instantly died down, all of the women standing at attention with Yelena at the frontmost position in the group. They were all naturally standing in an orderly manner, spread across the room in ten rows with ten widows in each row except for a few, totaling ninety-six excluding Natasha and Yelena.
Nat stood some distance away from Yelena, facing all of the widows, and cleared her throat. "We have a new mission, one for which I will need all of you engaged completely. That is why I have recalled you from any missions that you were on. For the past month that we've been working together, all of you have had the 'fun' of the vigilante life. Playing around as street-level Avengers, which I'm sure was very fulfilling. But now, we need to go and get some serious work done, off-world. We will go to one of the copies of Earth that have appeared in the space around us. Your mission? To eradicate creatures of untold strength who can wipe out our entire planet if they reach us. We will be moving our fortress itself to that planet to act as a base of operations. You also have a secondary objective there. To bolster our numbers. We shall be taking in refugee candidates who suit our requirements and absorbing them into a secondary infantry division. I will explain the details about that once we all reach the planet."
One of the widows raised their hand and Natasha pointed her out as she asked her question, "What kind of planet is it? Is it the same as the Earth? Or something different?"
"That's a very good question," Natasha nodded. "It's a clear and complete nuclear wasteland. Scarce vegetation, even scarcer human presence. The planet is infested with creatures who are best described as Abominations. These Abominations were created from the mix of the nuclear fallout and the bioweapons that mutated ordinary humans. We are not fully clear about the source of the mutation, but that is the current working theory. Any more questions?"
"Will we be returning to this planet any time soon?" Another widow asked.
"The mission is a prolonged one, Natalie," Natasha said. "But I understand the toll that staying too long in such a location can have on soldiers. That is why after one year, you will all be brought back to Earth for a long vacation before we send you back once again. You will be asked how long of a vacation you require and we will come up with a consensus for that. Anything else?"
"How will the logistics of the situation work? The necessary resources to sustain such a mission, that is."
"Our long-term goal is to establish a permanent base of operations on that planet, codename Sanctuary. For that, we will need a hefty amount of resources and manpower. The foundation of Sanctuary's infrastructure will come from us taking over a specific established base that already has some of the manpower we will require. As for the rest, that will come from the inhabitants, refugees, and stray people that we gather. As for the logistical aspect of the situation. That will all come from this planet. Thankfully, Tony Stark has far more money than he knows what to do with and has agreed to fund this operation. Until the base is completely self-sustainable, regular shipments of food, water, construction materials, and any other necessary items will be delivered in weekly shipments."
"Will we be staying in the fortress or the New Sanctuary?" Another widow asked.
"The fortress. The widows will be the ones occupying the fortress, as it should be. We have enough capacity to comfortably accommodate a thousand people, yes, but only the widows will be the ones who will be allowed to stay here permanently. The refugees that we rescue will be living in the new base. The only exceptions will be the new widow candidates, who will get to live here permanently as well."
"Are we reviving the Black Widow program?" Another widow raised her concern.
"Of course not," Natasha almost snapped. "I have experienced the torture of that program and will never inflict that on anyone, ever. We will merely be taking inspiration from the original system for candidate selection for the program. They will not be subjected to any of the horrible tests and surgeries that come with it. Nor will be snatching them away from their parents. The refugees we find will have an abundance of orphaned children who will all need a place to call home. We will give them that home and train them into becoming not killers, but defenders."
"Is that planet not a post-nuclear fallout wasteland? There will be a large number of things that will emit active radiation. Will it be safe for us to be exposed to such an environment?"
"Yes, about that," Natasha nodded. "Your suits all have certain presets of outfits that go from two to nine, with the first preset being your combat uniform, correct? Now, presets one through nine will be modifiable while you merely need to call out the default preset to form the modified combat suit that will make sure to keep you safe and sound in the face of the environment of the wasteland, which, yes is very toxic. Yelena, will you demonstrate?"
The blonde second-in-command nodded as she called out to Apex under her breath, "Default preset." With her words, her combat suit started shifting as a thin internal layer formed over her skin, covering her up to her throat followed by a secondary layer that seemed to be the actual full-body combat suit with slight padding at the knees and elbows along with the necessary straps and belts to hold her weapons and leave her with ample maneuverability. Next, thin, red lines formed along the suit, going down from the sides of her modified choker that now showed five glowing red lines that went horizontally across its surface and down to her arms, ending just before her wrists where two similar bracelet cuffs formed with red energy seeming to course through them. The lines then extended from the bracelet to the inner side of her arms and moved along her sides all the way down to her ankles where similar, sleek red and black ankle cuffs formed, allowing for the final streak of red to pass along the insides of her legs to close the circuit that essentially outlined her body. Last, the innermost layer that was stuck to her body extended up her neck and went all the way up to her nose to form a layer that covered all of her exposed skin with a black full-face mask that extended over her ears and even up her scalp. While her hair was still free and flowing, there wasn't an ounce of her skin exposed.
"It's done," Yelena spoke, looking around through the se-through visor that was formed in front of her eyes, going from her brows to the middle of her nose, "I think." Her voice was perfectly clear as if the mask wasn't even there.
Natasha smiled, "How about everyone else also give it a try?" She asked and the widows were suddenly all dressed in identical uniforms, the only difference was that instead of the five red lines on Yelena's choker, bracelets, and anklets, the widows merely had two on each. "You can ask the choker to remove your masks, but there is a failsafe in it that will refuse your request in case you are in a harmful environment." Some of the widows attempted it and the head part of the mask retracted back into their collars.
"Are these red streaks some kind of a filtering mechanism that will collect any harmful particles and energies?" A widow asked while examining the newly formed bracelets on her wrists that seemed unmovable over her suit.
"Yes," Natasha said. "It is a filtering mechanism that makes sure that no harmful particles stay on the suit. This way, you do not need to disinfect yourselves when you enter a safe environment."
"Will we need to do something about these filters?" Another widow asked, "Such as changing them at regular intervals."
"No need for that. Your chokers are as foolproof as they have always been. They will never require any maintenance. Period."
"I noticed that Miss Yelena has five streaks while we have only two," One of the widows asked from behind Yelena. "Is there any significance to it?"
"Not in its effect. That is what the chokers will look like from now on. Since Yelena is my Deputy Commander, she has five lines, and I, as the Commander have six. The streaks and ranks don't particularly have any significance currently because the widows are barely the size of a small company for now. Things are manageable due to your small numbers for now, but once we start expanding and getting more trainees, things will change and we will need to establish a working hierarchy system. You do not need to worry about that for now, however. Even if the trainees do come, they will be left with single-streaked chokers until they finish their training. Any more questions?"
After no one said anything, Nat spoke up once again.
"Since everyone has understood what we will be doing" As the widows all collectively straightened up further, Natasha continued. "You can prepare yourselves mentally, look at the bright blue skies all you want for today because once we move to the next planet, all you will see are dusty, yellowed skies filled with pollution particles. We leave tomorrow, an hour before dawn."
***
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