Dangerous by Default

58. Transwomen always make history

I am surrounded by morons.

White Wing had begun to tap the sole of her heavy black boot impatiently on the shiny floor, displeased by her team's current lack of confidence. If she wasn't so irritated, she would have noticed how out of place they all looked in the operating room of the secret Dimensions lab. Fluorescent lights and shiny medical equipment looked pure in comparison to their athletic builds and tactical gear. It was only a matter of time before the Dimensions board found out about the labs, and they couldn't afford to have any unexpected variables. The Doves wouldn't allow it.

Decipiens and Godefrida fumbled with the womb for a few more minutes before Godefrida turned to face her.

"Okay, update. For whatever reason, it looks like the womb is still configuring itself. It has yet to connect to the surgical bot's database, which is necessary for a safe and successful implantation of the womb. We should be up and running in about five to ten minutes, I'd say."

What. The actual. Fuck.

White Wing glared back at Godefrida with palpable impatience, furious over the lack of control of the situation. "I don't understand, this should only take 30 minutes and it's been almost an hour! You said you were following Ami's instructions to a T... If this technology is so state of the art, why is this taking so fucking long, gorge? Turtur wants this done like yesterday."

"State-of-the-art technology can be unpredictable, even with meticulous instructions. And-and we are the first people to attempt this surgery. It's better not to rush..." Godefrida's voice had grown increasingly strained with fear, her eye contact wavering as she fidgeted with the scrubs that covered her tactical get up.

"Rush it if you damn well have to. We don't have time for this shit. The future is NOW. If you idiots don't get that fucking womb in her in the next half hour, I swear to god I will start performing the operation on one of you, wheather it's synced or not! And I've never been a girl for administering anesthesia."

White Wing gave one last threatening eye before lighting a cigarette and pacing about the sterile room. Senegalanesis and Pulchellus, who both stood lazily by the entrance of the room, instinctively avoided her eye contact as she puffed away in thought. At least those two were smart enough to stay out of the way.

It all had begun to feel like one big joke. They were supposed to be the best, the top tier agents prepared for any and every high stress scenario. That was what the Cote was made for. Hell, White Wing had been known for executing missions at lightning speed her entire career. There wasn't a single thing she had left unprepared for them, everything was lined up how it was meant to be. So why the hell was it taking so long?

Just like the circular pattern of her boots on the squeaky clean floors, White Wings thoughts spiraled faster and faster.

They don't realize how much pressure weighs on these crimson shoulders. How much harder I have to work to prove myself as a Trans woman. How much of myself I have sacrificed just to get to this point, just to get steps away from becoming a core member of the Dove's inner circle instead of toting a stupid title. They think this is just another high paying paycheck with some added scifi. Ungrateful losers! They should feel lucky just to be here, to pay witness to such a big milestone for our organization. It's pathetic. My deserved position of power as ceo of Dimensions is literally reliant on a pack of misfit assassins impregnating this dumb bitch. White Wing carelessly tossed her cigarette butt on the floor to spark a fresh one. With the new intake of soothing nicotine, the rush of a delicious thought calmed her nerves for a moment, slowing the spirals. Roseogrisea is going to be sooo jealous of me! At least she could take comfort in that...

"Hey Godefrida, take a look at the monitor." Decipiens soft voice grabbed the room's attention, breaking the silence.

"Uuuhhh, I think we may be ready to begin surgery."

Sending another cigarette flying to the floor, White Wing turned to face Godefrida and her thought spirals stopped completely.

"Wooo-eeeh!" The Texan proclaimed from the back of the lab. Pulchellus dramatically rolled her eyes next to him. They were both quickly ignored.

"Though the connection is poor, I think we found a way to fast track the data sync. The womb looks to be live and connected." Godefrida said. The middle aged woman's newly confident but tired face went unnoticed by White Wing.

She was more concerned with the array of strange graphs and beeps that now lit up the vitals monitor, which was connected to the surgical bot. Whatever she was looking at seemed to be doing something, and at this point that was all she needed to feel that they were back on track.

"Shall I get the bot going?" Decipiens said with the most energy he most likely had had all year.

"Hellooo," White Wing said, her impish smile eerily encouraging them. "We haven't got all night, and your audience awaits you, Gorginas. Get with the program!"

They were about to make history. Better yet, shape it. Transwomen always do.