There's other Psi-Judges, but none so constantly in danger of failing out, so she is unique in a certain sense. Certainly, she's isolated; Anderson just wouldn't have been less lonely if she hadn't joined up, not after her parents died. By this point in her life, it's hard to fathom seeing herself learning a trade, and farming is an abstract concept she barely understands. Her reality seems like a distant one right now.
Automatically, she wants to treat this more like a case, a long-term one she's still assigned to. What she's going to do with herself is impossible to know, but what she wants to do?
"What I want is to abduct one of your brothers and see if I can turn the chip off," she answers, forthright and without hesitation, meeting his gaze evenly. Her chin propped on her hand, elbow on the copilot's armrest, Anderson looks speculative, like she's really considering it. "I don't know if it's possible, and I haven't been through advanced psi training yet, so it might be a waste of time."
But she's often able to do things that don't seem quite possible - the strongest psychic they've ever seen wasn't an idle title - and it's been an itch since the first time she encountered one of them. There's an injustice right in front of her, something she would easily classify as a crime five different ways back in Mega-City One, and without her badge she's free to act solely on her own conscience and acceptable risk levels. There's a freedom to her new status she's never experienced before; Anderson is just starting to feel out her lack of limits, and the instinct to stretch into it is strong.
"It's definitely not going to pay the bills," she thinks to add, wry. Moral crusades are well and good, but her first nine years of abject poverty linger like a spill of ink in water. She never wants to go back to that.
no subject
Automatically, she wants to treat this more like a case, a long-term one she's still assigned to. What she's going to do with herself is impossible to know, but what she wants to do?
"What I want is to abduct one of your brothers and see if I can turn the chip off," she answers, forthright and without hesitation, meeting his gaze evenly. Her chin propped on her hand, elbow on the copilot's armrest, Anderson looks speculative, like she's really considering it. "I don't know if it's possible, and I haven't been through advanced psi training yet, so it might be a waste of time."
But she's often able to do things that don't seem quite possible - the strongest psychic they've ever seen wasn't an idle title - and it's been an itch since the first time she encountered one of them. There's an injustice right in front of her, something she would easily classify as a crime five different ways back in Mega-City One, and without her badge she's free to act solely on her own conscience and acceptable risk levels. There's a freedom to her new status she's never experienced before; Anderson is just starting to feel out her lack of limits, and the instinct to stretch into it is strong.
"It's definitely not going to pay the bills," she thinks to add, wry. Moral crusades are well and good, but her first nine years of abject poverty linger like a spill of ink in water. She never wants to go back to that.