[ Queen Consolidated HQ, Star City ]
During the whole day, Thea had formed a general understanding of Queen Consolidated's weapons research and development department. Her conclusion? It was far too scattered and disorganized. The scientists simply explored whatever struck their fancy. Although she badly wanted to repurpose some of the equipment, she couldn't just walk off with company property.
That's the downside of the modern corporate system—everything was strictly regulated. Even if she became president tomorrow, that wouldn't give her free rein to requisition missiles. After all, this was the company's property, not her personal arsenal.
Batman managed it, she thought darkly. He got his gear by colluding with the company president and essentially robbing himself. Isn't that a genius-level act of "stealing from yourself"?
She had laughed at that part when watching the movie. But now that she was in a similar situation, it wasn't so funny. She couldn't exactly stroll into the warehouse and say, "Hey, I'd like two of those missiles to make my work more humane." Or "Your submachine guns are pretty sleek—mind handing over 5,000 rounds to decorate my office?"
Besides, even if she could sneak stuff out, where would she process it? Maybe the Queen Steel Manufacturing and Welding Factory—that place would eventually become Oliver's base. But no. Moira Queen was watching her too closely. There just wasn't enough breathing room.
...
[ Few Months Later ]
Still, in the days that followed, Thea kept visiting the R&D department. If she couldn't have the tech, she could at least learn from it. Dr. Hoffman didn't seem to mind that the young heir of the company preferred explosives over earrings. The two chatted often, and the days slipped by quietly.
Moira, of course, was aware of her daughter's daily visits. She chalked it up to lingering psychological trauma. What other explanation could there be for a teenage girl who preferred missiles over mani-pedis?
Malcolm Merlyn, on the other hand, wasn't overly concerned. He was already toeing the line between sane and delusional. Upon reviewing a report from his subordinate that detailed Thea's interest in high-tech weapons of mass destruction, he mused, Is she planning to destroy the world? After all, he had only been planning to level the slums. Was his daughter somehow more extreme than him? A true Merlyn heir?
Finally, one morning, Thea and Dr. Hoffman spent several hours studying medium-range missiles. That was the final straw for Moira.
She needed to act. In corporate terms, she needed to "add a burden."
"Thea, take a look at this document."
"The company wants to expand its software department? That's great, let's do it," Thea said, puzzled. "But why are you showing this to me?"
"Because I'm assigning you to lead the establishment and eventual operation of that department," Moira replied calmly.
Queen Consolidated was a titan in steel and infrastructure, with most of its talent and finances geared toward physical industries. The software department had long been a hollow shell. Moira figured it was harmless enough—let Thea have her fun. And software? What could come of it? She'd never even heard of artificial intelligence.
Thea didn't overthink it. All she saw was authority. Finally, she wasn't just a glorified assistant fetching coffee. She had her own mandate, her own mission! Now she could finally be independent. Congratulations to me.
"Where do I work from, then? There's no sign of any software division here," Thea asked.
"You can choose your own office space from among the company's owned properties. Everything else, you'll build yourself. Let your mother see what you're capable of," Moira said, putting on her most encouraging face.
Really? Thea almost couldn't believe her luck. Independence and the freedom to choose her base? There was no doubt in her mind—she would take over the future Green Arrow's hideout before Oliver even had the chance.
Of course, she couldn't just announce her decision. No, she had to inspect the site, weigh its "potential," then formally declare her intent with due ceremony. "I understand. I'll do my best to achieve results," she'd say solemnly.
With her mother's approval, Thea was authorized to transfer ten employees and recruit the rest herself. She practically skipped out of the office, humming a cheerful tune.
Moira, watching her daughter's unbothered departure, finally exhaled in relief. This girl was strange. Driven. Intense. The kind of person who studied martial arts and missile specs in her free time. She could never be as relaxed and irresponsible as Tommy. Now he was normal, Moira thought, remembering how he'd recently flirted with the Merlyn Global receptionist just for fun.
Picking up her phone, she gave one final instruction to her secretary: book a three-month, all-expenses-paid European vacation for Dr. Hoffman and his family.
There was only one condition: he was not to return within those three months.
Dr. Hoffman, a widower, received the news with quiet joy. Taking his two sons, daughter, and loyal dog, he embarked on a European journey that would end—serendipitously—with him finding love again in the Aegean Sea. He remained deeply grateful to Queen Consolidated forever after.
But that's a story for another time.
Blissfully unaware of how her new friend will find love again because of her actions, Thea returned to her desk and reread the software directive.
This was a gift from the gods.
If she'd been assigned to another department, things might've gotten tricky. But software? She knew Felicity. With her elite-level hacking skills, there was no program Felicity couldn't master.
Ever since their wine-fueled hangout, the two had become fast friends. It might sound strange, but alcohol was the great equalizer. Who said bonding over drinks was just for men?
She hadn't yet visited Felicity at work, but now was the perfect excuse. The only question: would Felicity agree to leave her current position and help build something new from scratch?
Thea wasn't sure. Her feelings were oddly mixed—hopeful, worried, excited. And if Felicity refused? Well, she could issue a formal order.
Felicity worked in the company's Archive Management and IT department—about as obscure as it sounded. After wandering the second floor and squinting at barely legible nameplates, Thea finally found her in a forgotten corner.
Miss Felicity Smoak, tech girl and future overwatch, had taken off her glasses and was fast asleep at her desk. Her lipstick had smudged, leaving a wide red blotch on her sleeve where she'd drooled.
Thea knocked on the table. "Hey, wake up. Nap time's over."
Felicity stirred, blinking groggily. She fumbled for her glasses, squinted at Thea, then grinned sleepily. "Thea? Off work already? Wanna grab a drink?"
Oh dear god, Thea thought. Is this girl secretly an alcoholic? She's supposed to be a homebody in the canon!
Without thinking, she blurted out, "Felicity, will you come with me?"
Felicity stared at her blankly. Then her eyes widened. "Are you... are you confessing to me? I... I need time to think about it."
Thea nearly facepalmed. Seriously? That's your interpretation of that sentence? Then again... yeah, maybe it did sound a little ambiguous.
She sighed inwardly. Communication. Always more complicated than missiles.
To Be Continued...
---xxx---
[POWER STONES AND REVIEWS PLS]