REAL NAME: Heather Wells
AGE: 28
BACKGROUND:
THEN: K’Shuk Nur’s craft skimmed the surface of one of the blue-green planet’s oceans.  He would have marveled such a vast mass of free water but he was too busy keeping his ship together.  The vessel had miraculously survived the encounter with the Kraan vessel and now it had narrowly avoided this planet’s crude satellite detection arrays.  Now all he had to do was land somewhere where he could make repairs to his ship.
    Simple.
    The ship’s cloaking device began to fail, it had not been designed for operation in an atmosphere let alone friction caused by traveling at eight times the speed of sound.  Cursing under his breath, K’Shuk activated his Symbiote.  It would take them some time to analyze the local environment, but once it had it would allow him to function without the need of a bulky encounter suit.
    The ship finally gave up its fight with gravity, but by now K’Shuk had slowed it sufficiently to land it in the upcoming bay without smashing it to bits.  He brought the nose up, killed the primary engines, and prayed…

NOW: Heather knew this was a stupid idea from the start; no search warrant, no back-up, and no proof.  But the file had said Tommy Tanaka had been a primary suspect in her father’s murder.  And Tanaka only came to America to make a hit and head back home.
    And Tommy Tanaka had just arrived on a freighter carrying a load of Japanese cars.
    She had no trouble getting onto the docks, a combination of a good bribe and her Japanese features insured that she blended in with the crew, or at least it prevented them from asking questions.  She did her best to act as if she belonged and headed right for the Marashi Maru…

THEN: Four EVA’s was enough to tell K’Shuk that the ship was a total loss.  The superstructure had survived the crash, but the engines had been torn off as it sank to the bottom of the bay.  He was stranded on an alien world with strange beings.  Oh, he shared a superficial resemblance, but that was all.  He was very, very alone here.
    He watched local news reports and taught himself the local dialect of what was known as “English”.  It was a difficult and contradictory language full of words with double or even triple meanings, or meanings which held up to a dozen words, and he found it hard to grasp.  What he was able to grasp was that he was not alone; there were beings much like himself, strangers who stood out from the masses in their wild garb and their strange powers.  Beings potentially like himself.  Some fought for the law, while others fought for personal gain.  The question was, which should he choose?

NOW: Teresa’s father had been a good cop.  Smart, tough, and compassionate.  To him it had been more about law enforcement; serving the public trust meant people had to be protected no matter what.  It got him into trouble more than once, but he had developed a reputation on the street as a man of integrity, who wouldn’t back down from a threat.  He couldn’t be bought.
    It got him killed.
    The Yakuza needed street cop Michael Wells bought, needed his blind eye in the Tenderloin district so they could peddle their drugs.  When he could not be bribed they slit his throat and left him in an alley with a pocket full of heroin.  His good name had been destroyed in a storm of controversy, a controversy his wife spent years trying to fight.  Now it was Heather’s turn…

THEN: K’Shuk-now Seahawk-found acceptance in the group known as the Liberty Project.  His symbiotes had given him the ability to survive in and out of the seas, and gave him enhanced strength and toughness and allowed him to fly.  Combined with his technical knowledge he was a welcome member to that team.  And in time his homesickness faded to a dull ache.  He could forget about the war, could create a niche among these decent-if primitive people.
    Five years after he joined the Project they diagnosed him with Cancer.  On a more advanced planet he could have been treated, but here he was a dead man.  There was no hope.  So K’Shuk did what his people always did in such a situation.  He bid his good-byes to his friends and returned to his ship to die.  But he prepared a parting gift for his adopted planet.  His symbiote still functioned perfectly, it would outlast almost any host.  He removed it from his system and placed it in a launch tube.  He programmed the ship’s sensors to detect any human who may be in need of it, a drowning man, or a diver in distress.  The symbiote was programmed to bond only with a being of similar moral intent to K’Shuk.  It was not much, but it was something to leave this world.
    K’Shuk lay back in his pilot’s chair, placed the hypo of fast-acting poison against his arm, and squeezed…

NOW: Tommy Tanaka smiled as Teresa’s eyes focused on him.  She remembered slipping up the stairs to the deck, then there had been a sound behind her, then…
    Well, the welt on the back of her head was evidence of what had happened.  Her hands were tied, and her legs…
    She stared, not quite believing what she saw.  Chained to her legs were concrete blocks.  Now she felt the odd pitching beneath her, she heard the sound of an outboard motor.  They were heading into the middle of the bay.  They were going to drown her and make sure no one found her.
    “Glad to see you’re awake, Wells,” Tanaka said, “In case you’re wondering, that file was planted so you’d see it.”
    “You wanted me to come and get you,” she said, feeling surprisingly calm.
    “Yes.  You were following in your father’s footsteps, we couldn’t allow that.  He had given us enough trouble fifteen years ago, we couldn’t have you doing the same.  I wouldn’t take a breath before we throw you over, if I were you.  Make it quick.”
    “Thanks for the advice.”
    Tanaka laughed, “Oh, you’re just like your father.  I hated killing him, I really did.  He had courage, that one.  I hated smearing his reputation, but we did not need a martyre.  As for you,” he shrugged, “If you disappear you’ll remain a mystery.  Here we are.”
    The boat slowed and came around, Tanaka and one of his henchmen pulled Teresa up and over to the edge of the boat.
    “Any last words?” Tommy asked.
    It came to Heather for some strange reason, she could not explain why.  In a perfectly calm voice she said, “Wait around, I’ll be right back.”
    Tanaka laughed as he pushed her in.

    The ship’s onboard computer had spent the past eighteen years monitoring the radio traffic of the bay’s surface.  Its sensors had scanned each and every item which moved in these waters, waiting…
    It’s wait was over.
    It had listened to Tanaka and Wells' conversation, deduction algorithms determined the reason for Heather’s execution, a brief brain scan confirmed it.  A command was sent to the launch tube, and a bluish-green blaze of light erupted into the water…

    Heather held her breath, she swore she would not give up.  She felt herself almost flying downward through the water, all she could see was blackness above and blackness below.  And the pressure around her chest grew until it felt as if her organs would be shoved up and out through her throat.
    Then the light hit.
    She was bathed in a bluish-green glow that blinded her light-starved eyes, she lost what little breath was left in her chest.  She inhaled reflexively.
    And found she could breath.l
    She was breathing!  Breathing water!  And the pressure was gone, as if ocean depths meant nothing.  She flexed her muscles and felt the ropes holding her break easily, a moment later so did the chains.  Grinning with the maniacal intoxication of a death-row reprieve, she unconsciously propelled herself back upward to the surface.
    There it was, Tanaka’s boat.  Screaming in exultation, she flew into it, somehow knowing such an action would not harm her.  The boat shattered as she flew up through it, she paused in mid-air to view the wreckage.  Tanaka’s two henchmen were dead.  Tanaka wasn’t.
    Heather changed that with a swoop which would have made an osprey proud.

    Lieutenant Blackburn stared at the badge and gun sitting on his desk.  Then he stared up at Wells.
    “You at least owe me an explanation.” He said.
    “I crossed the line last night.”
    “How?”
    “Tanaka’s dead.”
    “…And you killed him.”
   Heather was silent.  Tanaka and his men had drifted out to sea a week ago, there had been no record of their being found.  She had spent the past seven days on sick leave, worrying that they would.  But it had not been the fear of discovery that had made her ill.  It had been shame.
    “I crossed the line,” she said quietly, “I betrayed my oath.  I don’t deserve to be a cop.”
    “Tanaka hasn’t been reported dead, Heather…”
    “I know he’s dead!  I crossed the line.  And I might have avenged my father’s death but I didn’t clear his name!  The only man who could have done that is shark food!  I don’t deserve to wear that badge.”
    Blackburn stared at the badge.  Quietly he said, “You would have made detective in five years.”
    “I would have shot myself first.”

    Heather reclined in the deck chair and stared out at the bay.  She had done a little digging and found out about Seahawk.  He had not been a major super hero, but he had been a good man.  It was another legacy to live up to, however.  She hoped she would be up to it, this time.

PERSONALITY: Heather feels strongly about ethics and the law.  She believes in everything her father stood for.  The fact that she was unable to live up to her ideals has struck her a terrible blow.  Only time and her perseverance will allow her to overcome it.  Still, she is a survivor, and if anything she will be wiser and stronger for her experiences.
    Heather has a fondness for the sea, and she loves San Francisco.  She has become Seahawk for the primary reason to defend her city and not for personal glory or gain.  To Serve and Protect still means something to her, even though she no longer carries a badge.

POWERS/SKILLS: Heather is an ex-cop who was very good at her job.  She is smart, intuitive and well educated in most law-enforcement fields.
Seahawk is possessed by a symbiotic life form that gives her the ability to fly through the air and to effectively operate in the ocean.  Her lungs can process both sea water and fresh water to extract oxygen and she can easily survive the extreme pressure of the ocean depths and rapid pressure extremes.  Her sight extends farther into both ends of the visual spectrum, allowing her a better view of the ocean depths, and her hearing and sense of smell are both improved when below.  The symbiotes also make her very tough and very fast as well as granting her tremendous strength.  The original Seahawk was also able to adapt to other hostile environments such as vacuum.  Whether the new Seahawk will be able to likewise adapt remains to be seen.

DESCRIPTION: Heather takes after her Japanese mother, Ikumi; she is a petite five foot three and is slim and athletic.  She has long black hair and dark brown eyes, and she is very pretty.  As Seahawk she wears a dark blue one-piece outfit similar to a bathing suit and goes barefoot.  Her skin pales and her hair becomes silvery-blue, and a pair of translucent blue-green wings sprout from her shoulder blades.  These wings look somewhat avian, but become more scaly when she uses them to swim.  A silvery film covers her eyes as well.

OCCUPATION: Heather is a private detective who also writes mystery novels under the alias Skip Boorman.  Her last book, Buried Conscience, earned her a Tweedy Award and was her first best seller.