You'd be surprised at just how much down time I have at work...well, no you wouldn't, not after reading this.

Anyway, one of my favorite NPC (non-playing characters) of my favorite game, City of Heroes, is Blue Steel. He is the hero trainer for the Kings Row zone and is actually an afterthought of the developers of the game. Originally, it was supposed to be the Back Alley Brawler but towards the end of the beta testing days, the developers needed another "starting city" (Atlas Park and Galaxy City) so BAB was bumbed to Galaxy. That left a hole open in Kings Row so Blue Steel was created and tossed into the mix without any background whatsoever.

As it stands now, Blue Steel is not part of the Freedom Phalanx as many have suggested, nor is he affiliated with any of the NPC Super Groups. He is a registered super hero that works directly for the Paragon City Police Department in the Kings Row district. Since there is no background, I thought it would be cool to write a quick history (yes, I consider 2,500 words a quick history).

I wanted to write this not only because he is my favorite NPC, but also because it's going to be required for my continued writing of the life of Ms. Lorelei. He figures prominently into her training and it couldn't be done without it. It is an extremely rough version (please disregard the errors) and a lot of details need to be edited, but since the weekend is coming up, I wanted to get it out there.

So, without further delay, here is the history of Blue Steel...

Enjoy.

Rob

A lone, battle-clad figure stands watch over the Kings Row district, all day and all night. Wearing his police uniform proudly and holding his shield (a gift to him from Statesman himself for services rendered to the Freedom Phalanx), this man gladly offers his knowledge to aspiring heroes seeking assistance. The many hours he has stood at his post, the man is not without thoughts.

“One day, Kings Row will be restored to her former glory…….one day”, he thought to himself.

Once considered the promise for a prosperous future for Paragon City with the constant construction of new manufacturing factories, Kings Row was the idyllic blue-collar heaven. When King Garment Works opened their factory doors, a celebration was held in the street that Kings Row hasn’t seen the like since. Why, even if a drifter floated through town, chances are a kind citizen would guide their feet towards this district for their was always employment to be had for hard, working men.

Kings Row was hit hard when the depression rolled around. Slowly, factories began to lay people off just to make the weekly payroll. In time, factory owners (with their families and all their belongings loaded up in a truck) would drive by their factory in the middle of the night to chain the doors and hang a “Closed” sign as they snuck out of town. The workers, not having any work to do, couldn’t feed their families and began to look towards other…employment.

He managed to tough it out and survive all those hard years, though. Born on September 26, 1925 to a hard, working, Irish-born foreman and a roadside deli waitress, Patrick Aiden Brehony was a welcome blessing in a thriving household. He grew up in a household that never denied him the love and support any growing child needed. His father would sometimes allow him to come to work with him during the summer school break and only then if it wasn’t too hot.

Around the age of eight, Pat (or as his mother called him, Patty) took after his father’s example and picked up a newspaper delivery route from Mr. Barnes, who ran the newspaper stand right outside the roadside deli his mother worked in. Times were starting to get pretty tough and earning a whopping penny a day for delivering newspapers around the neighborhood, Pat felt that he was “pulling his own weight”, as his father always put it. Not too long after his newfound employment, Pat’s world was forever changed.

A new group of villains had foreseen the potential for huge profits in the ailing district of Kings Row. Moving in silently, they began to make connections by blackmailing union leaders, threatening factory owners, and, of course, hiring the newly unemployed factory workers as cheap muscle to enforce their “policies”. A typical day at any given factory (that hadn’t shut it’s door yet) involved large scores of rough looking men carrying chains, pipes, and baseball bats accompanying a couple of other men in cheap pinstriped suits to the factory owner’s office. Shortly thereafter, the factory owner would divert monies from the payroll so they could invest in the new “health plan” offered by the cheap hoods.

One day, this same mob strolled into the factory where Pat’s father worked. As they strode across the manufacturing floor unopposed, Pat’s father stepped up with a metal pipe in his hand, blocking their way to the staircase that led to the owner’s office.

“Wha-choo doin’ there pops? Ged outta da’ way before youse gets hurt,” the one with the pencil thin mustache in a cheap suit said.

“Get the hell out of here and take that scum with ya’,” he yelled as he pointed to the dirty mob.

“Excuse m…”

The pencil thin mustache in the cheap suit didn’t get to finish his sentence because at that precise moment a 3/4" steel pipe connected with the side of his face. Going down in an instant, the other two cheap suits looked at one another and then Pat’s father. Having no idea what to do (as they never had anyone resist them before), they picked up their leader and dragged him to the exit door, throwing looks of anger over their shoulders. Little did Pat’s father know that he had just signed his death warrant.

The crime scene was a grisly one. One white male, approximate age 32 years old, died from multiple shotgun burst to the chest. One white female, approximate age 30 years old, died from multiple bruising to the head and a .22 gunshot wound to the back of the head. Surviving, one white male child, approximate age 6 years old.

Maiden Justice was the first to arrive onto the scene. Strange, she thought, that the call came to the Freedom Phalanx headquarters instead of the High Park Police Precinct. With this neighborhood being the way it is, the cops are probably on the King’s payroll, too. No wonder Statesman has been wary of working side by side with their police force in bringing the Kings down.

Maiden Justice entered the apartment on the upper west side of High Park expecting to find the criminals still in the act. Instead, what she found was much worse. It’s not every day that you discover a couple with their kid brutally murdered as they ate their nightly dinner. What a shame. We need to bring down the Kings and we need to bring them down now.

Wait.

The boy is still breathing!

Maiden Justice rushed to the little boy and checked his pulse and breathing. Slow pulse with rapid breathing. Not good, she thought. I have to get him help now or else he’ll die. She gently scooped the child up into her arms and flew out the window towards the new Crowne Memorial hospital.

Hospital staff were stunned when Maiden Justice flew through the open emergency doors and into the new Critical Care Unit.

“Dr., this child needs help right now!”, she screamed.

The young medical doctor swiftly attended to the child, reading and taking note of the child’s weakened vital signs. Being pragmatic, the doctor didn’t waste his time asking for an irrelevant explanation of what happened but rather starting lifesaving treatment. First priority was getting some blood back into the child.

“This kid needs a blood transfusion now! What do we have in the stores?”, asked the doctor.

“Nothing doctor, we just opened today!”, replied the nurse.

“Take mine”, she said. “Take mine.”

The doctor looked up at Maiden Justice as if seeing her for the first time.

“You know, it could kill the child if you have the wrong type”, warned the doctor.

“He’ll die anyway if you don’t do it”, replied Maiden Justice.

“O.K. Nurse, get some help in here and start the transfusion”

The nurse was a no-nonsense nurse and started the preparations for a blood transfusion without argument. She helped Maiden Justice up on the gurney and made her comfortable while the other nurses tended to young Patrick. In no time, the transfusion was started and all the doctors could do is wait.

While they waited, the doctor returned and spoke with Maiden Justice about her giving up her blood to help the child. He warned that the makeup of her blood could very well alter the little boy in ways not seen before. Maiden Justice understood and told the doctor what had happened and heartache filled the eyes of the young doctor.

“He’s not going to be the same, you know…when he wakes up,” said the doctor. “He’s going to have your long life ability and your healing ability, that much is certain because that originates from your blood. As far as your other powers…who is to say but I wouldn’t bet the farm on it.”

“He’ll be taken care of, doctor”, replied Maiden Justice. If the boy has no family left, I’ll take him in and raise him as my own. If the time comes that he does show super power ability, I’ll be there to help him along, she thought.

Young Patrick was released from the hospital a lot sooner than expected, even with Maiden Justice’s special blood flowing through his veins. Maiden Justice was there when he was released and took him to his new home in Perez Park. Although you could detect a sadness in his eyes, Patrick grew at a phenomenal rate, not knowing what new power flowed through his veins, excelling both in his studies and in sports. Soon little Patty became Patrick and seemingly forgot about his parent’s murder and even his past. Maiden Justice was as proud of Patrick as any real mother could be of her own child. However, she knew that one day she must tell him the truth…that she wasn’t his real mother and how he came to be in her care. It was not until midway through his ninth year that they discovered just how special Patrick really was.

Patrick had just finished junior varsity football practice at Atlas Park High School and was walking home with his high school sweetheart, Jenny, when they were jumped by a rough looking gang of criminals. As they were outnumbered 10 to 2, Patrick knew that his only chance to save Jenny was to sacrifice himself. Barely whispering, he told Jenny to run as fast as she could when all of a sudden, Patrick screamed a battle cry and lunged out towards the nearest hoodlums.

Frightened for her life, Jenny turned and ran as fast as she could, knocking two of the surprised gang members out of the way. The two started to take off after Jenny but quickly turned back when they heard the sounds of battle behind them. She doesn’t remember how long she ran but she finally found a police officer and shakily told her story.

Both Jenny and the police officer ran back to the scene where, to their surprise, they found young Patrick staring around dazedly at the nine unconscious gang members lying on the ground. With a cut lip and bloody eye socket, Patrick recounted to the stunned officer the way he had unleashed a flurry punches and kicks, knocking the foes back out of range while he turned to the next aggressor. Before he knew it, all nine were laying on the ground in front of him while the gang’s leader ran off like a scared rabbit. The officer didn’t have trouble believing this but what he did have trouble believing is that Patrick’s lip and eye socket was no longer bleeding. In fact, by the time he finished his story, there was no blood left on his face.

The officer took the report and told Patrick to walk Jenny straight home on some well-lit streets. The officer had also taken Patrick aside and told him that he needs to be tested and tested soon if he suspects what Patrick really is. Patrick thanked the officer as he turned to walk Jenny home.

Once Patrick got home, he told Maiden Justice what had happened. Instead of looking concerned, she could only hang her head in shame. Patrick sat confused as Maiden Justice spent the next half hour relating the story of how his parent’s were murdered and he came to be in her care. Memories began to flood back to Patrick, tiny, inconsequential things like the floral pattern on his mother’s cooking apron…the roughness of his father’s hands as they wrestled on the floor.

“But how…”, he began.

“I was the one that found you, Patrick. You were nearly gone when I took you to the Crowne Memorial hospital and the doctor said that the only thing that could save you is a blood transfusion. You’ve got my blood in your veins, honey”, she explained.

“But what does…”, he asked.

“I’m a super hero, Patrick. My super hero identity is Maiden Justice. You never knew, did you? I tried the best I could to hide my super hero identity from you to give you the chance at a normal life. I wanted to you be yourself, not the kid of a super hero. Most people put on a suit and tie to go to work….I put on a cape and a mask.”

“So…”, he asked.

“Yes. I possess the ability to heal instantly if I concentrate hard enough, plus I’m….a little older than you think. Patrick. Remember back when you first came to live here? Remember how I looked then? Do I look any different now?”, she asked. “I possess a natural…huh, natural, they call it. Anyway, I’m more than a few decades old now and I still look like I’m in my young 20’s.”

Patrick sat there in thoughtful silence as he studied the women who he had thought for years was his mother. He didn’t blame her nor did he hate her. Reaching out, he hugged his crying adopted mother like she was his real mother. He held her tight as their emotions flowed from their eyes until they ran dry.

“It’s time for you to begin your training, Pat. I’ll call Statesman in the morning to get you set up for entrance into the new program the Freedom Phalanx is sponsoring authorized under the Citizens Crime Fighting Act. It’s time for you to accept your destiny.”

Pat enrolled into the program for a few short weeks until December 7, 1941 when the Storm Korps attacked Paragon City. Threatened with defeat, the Freedom Phalanx fought back ferociously until the attack was repelled. With the new threat on America’s horizon, the Freedom Phalanx (working closely with the U.S. Army) set up a training ground for new heroes on Circle Island. Pat attempted to join at once but was rebuffed time and time again by his adoptive mother.

With the sudden rush of new recruits to go fight the war effort, young men were now finding themselves in positions of responsibility. A young man of Pat’s intelligence and build was quickly hired as a new Paragon City’s new police recruit, even without his high school diploma. Pat rose through the ranks quickly thanks in large part to his super hero abilities but also his keen sense of street smarts. One morning at his precincts daily muster, the shift sergeant jokingly referred to Pat “as tough as steel” when someone yelled out, “yeah, blue steel!”

Without surprise, the name “Blue Steel” stuck. Although never officially registered as a super hero, Blue Steel continued to work for the Paragon City Police Department, eventually getting assigned to the Kings Row district. Working hard, Blue Steel led platoon after platoon into armed combat against the thugs that roam the streets of his former childhood, pushing crime back down into the recesses of the gutters. To this day, he stands vigil over the crime-ridden district, providing his knowledge to fledgling heroes seeking to advance their security levels in the hopes that one day, Kings Row will flourish once more.