Queen Taylor

If anyone has any ideas of things for Watchdog ENE to investigate under FBI direction, please do reply with your ideas.

 

Interlude

Rebecca looks up as Legend walks through the doorway before taking off his mask and sitting down as Paul. Off to one side Contessa stands looking at a wall, her eyes unfocused.
“Good afternoon everyone. This is our monthly planning meeting for Cauldron, so hopefully it will be a quick half an hour catch up. Before we begin, does anyone have any new business?”
Contessa turns to the table and, with a couple of crisp steps, takes a seat, “I cannot path Brockton Bay.”
Everyone at the table looks over at her at this point, eventually Kurt breaks the shocked silence, “Do you mean there’s someone there like Eidolon?”
Contessa shakes her head, “No, it’s like my agent has come against some form of randomness, and the steps get so far before veering off into so many possibilities that it stops.”
Rebecca nods with a concerned expression, “When did this start?”
“April 10^th 1432, Parahuman Feudalism Experiment: sit at hot desk 23 for 5 minutes, then leave. After that paths in Brockton bay started to vary in length. Three days ago Brockton Bay became unpathable.”
Rebecca nods, “Kurt, how about you, is there anything odd with Brockton Bay?”

Kurt opens his laptop and looks at some of his notes, “Nothing major, a few of Coil’s operations haven’t gone ahead that we expected to happen. There have been some changes in the PRT connected with a new trigger, and Lung is missing presumed dead.”
Rebecca nods, “I know about that, it’s to do with the first verified case 61. For some reason Director Piggot classified the file as eyes only, along with the new file on case 62’s. All I know is that at the Directors meeting last week, Armstrong stated that he’s read the files, and agrees with the eyes only classification.”
Paul nods, “Director Wilkins said as much herself, though she wouldn’t be drawn on the specifics. Only that the implications were as absolutely terrifying as they were hopeful.”
Dr Mother looks around the table, “Given this information, is the experiment still worth doing or should we cancel it?”
Paul looks uncomfortable as he looks around the table, “I say cancel it, as I was never happy with it to begin with.”
Eidolon shrugs, “I say continue, until we can’t contain it.”
Kurt nods, “There’s still an 83.4% chance it will give us the information we need, so continue.”
Rebecca thinks for a moment, “I think we should continue, though we need to take into account that the FBI now has a permanent interest, and the state legal services have started taking an interest. Contessa, is there any reason why you let that happen?”
Contessa shrugs, “Path to defeating Scion, it cut 10,000 steps off of the path.”

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In the middle of flying to Brazil in order to put out a fire, Scion stops over the Atlantic Ocean as a small group of shards reaches out to him on a little used channel. As he processes the new information, his permanent frown moves minutely into a neutral expression at the same time as he begins the slow process of removing one of his shards from deployment and repairing it. After nearly 15 minutes he detects that the fire has been extinguished and moves to a new objective.

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Kaiser sits at the head of an ornate table, while the rest of the E88 parahumans sit to either side in order of seniority.
“Victor, report.”
Olatha puts a hand on Victor’s leg as he shuffles some papers nervously, “Our protection income is down 2% on last month, and we have been unable to regain access to the areas that we had bugged in the PRT. This has also started to affect the planted bugs in the BBPD and City Hall. In particular, the mole we have in PRT dispatch has been unable restore the tap on the PRT network, so we are relying on our 911 tap for real time datamining. Consequently, we have seen encounters with the Protectorate increase by 25%, though we haven’t yet been caught without an avenue of retreat. Possibly due to the fact that Miss Militia has been transferred to a different department.”
Victor turns the page on his notes, “With the loss of Mr Hebert, we have been able to push through a test delivery from our overseas sponsor, due to the inexperience of the new contract and management staff. If this pans out, we will have access to a low key method of getting product in and out of the country that looks legitimate. Finally, Bakuda and Oni Lee are holding the borders of the ABB by liberal usage of exotic effect grenades, though they have scaled back on the size of those effects to minimise the effects on civilians. I recommend that we attempt to track down the tinker and eliminate her discretely, as any overt moves on our part could trigger an escalation targeted at our own territory.”

Kaiser nods and turns to Hookwolf, “What of your report?”
Hookwolf grumbles, “Dog and cage fighting are doing well even with the sweep the BBPD did after our Lieutenant was caught with the surveillance footage and take. Though I’ve been seeing more state police around since then. Something’s been going down in the slums and North Docks, as recruitment from those areas has slowed slightly. On the plus side, the Merchants have been laying low in the slums with the increased state police presence. Though reports say that they’re still active in the north.”

Kaiser nods again, “Some of my own contacts have let me know that the state is investigating the various government services that we’ve been seeding. One of our bought judges has been rotated out to another city, and social services is under investigation. Now, onto the rest of the meeting.”
Once the board meeting finishes and everyone else has filed out, Kaiser places a hand on Victor’s shoulder, “Victor, I want you to start separating our Medhall ties, and find a patsy we can hang things on if we’re investigated. Also, start looking for a new building we can buy to hold these meetings in, in future.”
Victor nods before he too leaves to join his wife.

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Rupert tugs the lapels of his suit jacket nervously, as the bailiff opens the door to the Federal court. Here he is about to find out if the union has the standing to sue the government about NEPEA-5 given the fact it applies to permanently granted powers, and it has forced them to suspend a valuable worker that has been with them for decades because their power allows them to be better at the jobs they’ve been doing for most of that time.

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In a small solitary confinement cell, there is a barely audible pop. The occupant of the bed doesn’t even stir as the cause of the pop leans over to see the tear tracked face that’s facing the wall on the hard bed with only a flimsy blanket for warmth. Gently the figure covers the occupants nostrils until they open their mouth, and then they gently place a face hugger over the mouth. When the face hugger latches on, the occupant wakes up for a few seconds to struggle before the face hugger knocks them out again. The intruder carefully turns them over, and covers them back up with the blanket before moving to the door and pulling out a phone to play games on.

Once the face hugger releases from the occupant, the intruder gathers up the dead face hugger, and disappears as silently as they appeared.

 

Expansion – Space


Agent Jon Franks looks at the files that are listed on his laptop with an expression somewhat akin to exasperation. Carefully, he turns his chair, before pushing it backwards so that he can stand from the desk.
Looking up, Imelda asks, “Are you ok Jon?”
Jon nods, “I am, it’s just that Head Office has wasted no time asking for a consult on a number of cases.”
Imelda frowns, and turns her chair around, wincing as it catches on Jon’s chair, “I’ve not even had time to do their psych evals yet. Aren’t we supposed to have a 90 day grace period?”
Jon sighs, “That’s what the manual says for normal employees when setting up a new office. Apparently, that doesn’t apply to parahumans.”
Imelda sags and starts packing up her own equipment, “I’ll come with you. Might as well get Washington and O’Donnell’s first sessions out of the way today. I’m not happy about including Willborne on the team, as she’s still under age.”
Picking up his bag, Jon slips his laptop inside, “I know, but consider the reading you’ve been doing on trigger events.”
Imelda scowls as she stands up herself, “In every other law enforcement field, a PTSD inducing event would be grounds for months of therapy, and possibly medical discharge. Yet, with parahumans it’s just par for the course, and a reason to employ them.”
Jon places a hand on her shoulder, “I know, and that’s why you’re here. I got a letter from Quantico too.”
“Let me guess, we need to go to the office. It would be much simpler if we could teleport too.”
Jon chuckles, “Don’t say that near any of the hive, unless you want to join them.”
Imelda nods and picks up her own bag, before leaving the office, “So, when are the eggheads doing power testing?”
“We’ll discuss that later.” That said, Jon locks the office behind them, before heading to the street, and then the watchdog HQ.

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Taylor smiles to herself as she looks at the cave she’s dug out of the rocky core of Europa. It should be nearly impossible to find without following on of her hive into the entrance tunnel. Granted, it’s likely to collapse sometime between 50 and 100 year in the future, but for now it’s an absolutely secure location.

A few minutes later, she’s seated in her ovipositor, happily laying magical eggs. Once she’s got a nice stock, she lays 10 adoption eggs as an afterthought. There, now she doesn’t need to bother the PRT if she wants to bring someone into her hive. Her job done, she gathers four of the adoption eggs, and flames to the office.

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After a gruelling flight on a military jet, Director Emily Piggot sits, stony faced, in front of a tribunal in New York.
At the table at the front of the room, Chief Director Rebecca Costa Brown looks up from her paperwork, “Ms Piggot, we’ve all seen the evidence. Before we move into deliberation, is there anything you would like to say in your defence?”
Emily looks along the table starting with Legend on one end, Ellis Morris – the youth guard rep, Rebecca, Drew Person – an expert psychologist, and Director James Tagg.

Once she’s looked at each of them, she sighs, “What happened was a tragedy, one that could have been avoided if I had left my side arm in my gun safe. Indeed, immediately after that incident, that’s precisely what I did, as I have no wish to endanger my ward unnecessarily. Since then, I have restarted my therapy, and I have been working with my ward, and the other two children under PRT care, to acclimatise myself to their changer state. It hasn’t been easy, however it is already starting to show results.
“I believe that my record speaks for itself as to how I’ve been able to maintain the peace in Brockton Bay, despite the fact that a thinker or stranger with a high level of clearance at the PRT had managed to plant bugs in strategic locations. As I did before, I will over come my own trauma and continue to treat everyone in my command with professionalism and due care.”

The Chief Director looks around the table as Emily finishes, “Does anyone have any questions?” When no answers are forthcoming, she continues, “Very well, we will adjourn for an hour to discuss this case.”

An hour later, the panel returns with sombre expressions. Rebecca looks down at her notes while everyone else is taking their seats. After a couple of minutes, she looks up, “Ms Piggot, the tribunal has deliberated. Due to the nature of the incident, and that it involved an unaffiliated minor. We have had to consider not only your health, but also punishment for you. As such, you are to be placed on medical leave without pay for no less than 6 months. In addition, all of your security clearances will be suspended for the same length of time. In the meantime we are appointing Commander Calvert as the interim Director. If you wish your position back after 6 months, then we will reconvene after you have undergone a psychiatric evaluation.”

With a flinty expression, Emily grounds out, “I understand Chief Director. If you don’t mind, I need to get back to Brockton Bay and collect my ward from school.”
Standing up, she walks out with her back straight, and doesn’t relax until she’s uncomfortably strapped into the jet that will takes her back to Brockton Bay.

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On another Earth, a woman stands beside her partner as his xenomorph body is swollen with an egg. Suddenly he starts to choke, as the muscles in his abdomen contract violently, forcing the egg up into his ribs. A second contraction is accompanied by a loud crack, as the egg is forced into his ribcage. The sound of hissing acid is loud in the small cave they found, as it pits the stone floor. A final contraction sees the ribcage rip clear through the skin with a rush of blood, and the egg. As he lies dying, he tries to reach out to his partner as she cries nearby. A moment later, there is a flare of fire, and a chest burster crawls out of the ashes, to the joy of the woman.

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Imelda screams as she opens the door to the main office for Watchdog ENE. As she does, Jon pulls her out of the way and steps to the side of the door, pulling his sidearm. Carefully looking around the door, he can’t help yelping when a massive head appears six inches from his own, and the inner jaws shoot out to nip him on the nose. There’s a loud retort as he unloads his gun into the thing in front of him, to seemingly little to no effect.
As his gun clicks empty, it grabs his leg and pulls it out from underneath him, before throwing him into the spare room, and pulling the door closed. A few seconds later, there’s a short scream, that cuts off abruptly. That done, the creature goes over to a cupboard and pulls out a marker and a sheet of paper before scrawling “Eg9 St0rag3” on it in messy scrawl.

While it’s trying to look at the paper, Imelda pulls out her mobile phone and desperately calls Susan with shaky fingers. After a couple of rings Susan answers.
“O’Connell speaking.”
Imelda whispers, “S…Susan, there’s, there’s a monster here.”
“Imelda? Are you OK?”
“It got Jon.”
“Imelda, make your way outside, we…” Whatever Susan was going to say is unknown, as Imelda drops the phone when a clawed hand lands on her shoulder.
Nervously she turns around to see a young woman with luscious brown hair staring at her, “Hi, I’m Taylor. Sorry about scaring you like that. Would you happen to know where the Sellotape is?”

Her eyes drop down to the blood stains, slowly spreading through her top. That last sight is just too much, and Imelda’s eyes roll back into her head as her world goes dark.

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“Taylor, you can’t just do that to people.”
“They’re lucky to be alive. Do you have any idea what screams do to me when I’m Queenie?”
“That doesn’t mean exposing them to your eggs, you know this.”
“Well, what else do you expect me to do?”
Imelda opens her eyes and tries to say something, only to become aware of something on her face. Panicking, she reaches up to pull it off, only for her world to go dark again as it squeezes her neck.

Imelda comes round for a second time, this time with a dry cough. As her eyes flicker open, someone helps her sit up on the mattress, before putting a glass of water to her lips.
“Wh…” Imelda licks her lips, “What happened?”
Hannah helps her stand up from the mattress, “You fainted, so Taylor kindly decided to move you to the mattresses that we brought over for such an eventuality. Completely ignoring the fact that those mattresses are in the room that she’s now designated as egg storage.”

The events from earlier suddenly catch up with her, and she looks around wildly, “Is Jon alright?”
Hannah points to another mattress in the corner, “He hit his head when Taylor threw him in here, so he’s still out of it. But, yes he’ll be fine.”
“We need to get him to the hospital, he could have a concussion.”
“He’s just asleep, as we fed him some tears when his face hugger released. Come on, let’s get you sat down with a cup of matcha tea, and a teaspoon of honey, before the main aspect of becoming a hive starts to kick in.”
Imelda follows Hannah into the office that’s actually in use, where the young girl that surprised her earlier is whisking some matcha powder in a wooden bowl with a scowl.
“That’s my favourite mix of tea, how did you know?”
Hannah shakes her head, and takes a seat, “Sit down, as this is very much a theory vs practice thing.” Once Imelda is sitting, she continues, “Do you remember that we all share a hive mind?”
Imelda nods, “I do, and Taylor is the queen, as in ants.”
“Well, part of that is that all of our memories are part of the hive. Every single one. Including when you snuck a look in your mother’s toy drawer.”
Imelda flushes red, and covers her face in mortification, “How did you know that? Not even my mother knew.”
Hannah gently takes Imelda’s hands, “I know, that’s why I picked that memory. You were the only one that could have possibly known it, and even Lisa… Willborne wouldn’t have been able to guess it without some hint on your side.”
“But why? Why me?”
Taylor looks up, “Why not you? Jon knew it was a risk of this assignment, and you get the ability to teleport, flame travel, and do magic. On top of that, you get a get out of death free card that renews once you grow up enough. It’s now no longer a risk of this assignment.”
“But, how am I supposed to remain objective while also being your therapists?”
Taylor bursts out laughing, “You’re not. We don’t need someone that’s objective. What you are is a living member of our hive that can use her education to see and understand the people in it. Then, provide a living voice that can give advice, or one of us can do that bit if it’s better coming from them. We already have the memories of an experienced psychologist, but that’s all they are, memories. They’re static, and we can learn from them, but they never grow. Oh, and I’m sorry, but it’s unlikely you’ll remain vegetarian for long.”
Hannah sounds scandalised when she shouts, “Taylor, what’s got into you. You never used to be like this.”
Taylor sobers, “Do you realise that I can now barely remember Emma personally, or my time at Winslow. Oh, I can go looking for those memories, but they aren’t mine anymore. However, they’re only about as traumatic as the mildest of our ancestral memories. I’m still me, but I think I’m the me that wasn’t bullied for 18 months.”
Imelda looks distraught, “But why?”
Taylor shrugs, “Dunno, best guess? Can’t exactly be the queen of a hive that evolved near the bottom of it’s food chain, and have trauma hanging around you. I figure that I’ll be needing your help to come up with a better reasoning than that.”

With a click of Taylor’s fingers, Imelda’s tea is finished, and passed over to her. Then Taylor leaves to start sorting through the pallet of wood while Imelda cradles the tea while she’s trying to come to grips with what’s happened, and what she was told.

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This is Simon for ABC News live at the New York Federal courthouse where Canary is being led out to the Dragon transport on her way to the Bird Cage. Behind me you can see the thousands of protestors that are crowding the steps of the courthouse in protest of this action. The ACLU has already released a press statement stating that they are taking this case to the court of appeals. Though the general consensus is that it's useless for the victim, as by the time they can get a judge to sign off on a say of execution, Canary will already be in the Jail.