Tertiary (Worm)

[Biigoh]

Oh Taylor.... The merchants are your only hope... You must take them over.

 

[Visual Pun]

Gaiatsu 2.3

Taylor sensed Emma by the earwig hidden behind her purse lining before she spotted her new hairdo under a cute jaunty beret in the distance while changing classes.

So far Emma had avoided Madison, apparently abandoning the girl to be grist for the rumor mill, so the bloom was off the rose there.

Taylor's early arrival at school to post half of the remaining defaced flyers before most of the student body arrived had paid off in starting Emma's school day off on the wrong foot. Bugs readjusted all of Emma's bras during her morning jog, so the left straps were all shorter than the ones on the right hand side, while the redhead was in the shower Taylor had also planted the seed for her ex-friends' discomfort later on.

Taylor had no opportunity to eavesdrop using swarms and undermine any of her former friend's plans before they even got started. However she already knew the shape the encounter with Emma was determined to take.

Emma gathered her regular social circle of hangers-on and proceeded to walk while they chatted in formation, they moved down the hall like a street sweeper constructed of popularity which forced other students to move out of their way.

Emma glanced in the direction of the restroom but saw Taylor up ahead and decided to use her internal tumult and redirect the sensations to fuel her vitriol towards her prey. "The poor thing's had the entire weekend off," she thought, "so better remind her of her proper place: at the bottom of the heap."

That's when Taylor did something unexpected. She took something out of her pocket and leaned into a classroom for a second, and leaned back out with it in her hands.

Emma smirked and said, "Oh Taylor, you look like you're about to..."

*FLASH*

She tried to blink away the green afterimage which dully strobed in the center of her sight. A few seconds later she looked around for Taylor who was nowhere to be seen.

"Going bald, Emma? You said you never wear hats, they look like crap."

Emma turned around angrily right into another *FLASH* from the disposable camera in Taylor's hands. Now two greenish blobs clouded her vision.
"What are you..."

"No time for talking out your ass, Emma, you look flushed. You're pushing your luck, is the pressure getting to you?"

Emma grasped her noisome belly, her knees locked as the eyedrops Taylor's bugs had liberally coated Emma's reusable water bottle with earlier that morning had finally loosened her bowels judging by the vibrations small bugs sensed on her abdomen.

Taylor turned and took a picture of a clock on the wall. "Better get your shit together before you let loose, Emma."

The clique of girls pulled away slightly in revulsion at Emma's ungainly sprint to the nearest bathroom, rudderless without their social alpha to lead them.

Taylor sensed the girls disperse. She knew that when Emma again experienced the red food coloring mixed with blood that had leaked from whatever mystery meat the cafeteria prepared after lunch, she'd head straight to the Nurse's office. It was why it was such an effective tool to use Emma's narcissism against her.

Taylor sent mosquitoes through the ducts to Emma's next class by way of the cafeteria kitchen to prepare. Emma would probably be concerned for her health and go home for the rest of the day. Good thing Taylor had already stashed bottles of eyedrops and red food coloring in the vents and on top of the lights in the cafeteria above her regular lunch table for any contingencies.

Taylor almost felt bad Emma hadn't pushed the issue further. She kind of looked forward to the confrontation in Blackwell's office where she backed up a bullying claim with pictures showing the nearest classroom with wall clock clearly visible, two more of her tag along tormentors in action, and another picture of the clock in the hallway bookending the events in place and time. Covering the Who, What, Where and When of Blackwell's W5+H criteria should go a long way to document the ongoing campaign of bullying against her.

Taylor tucked the disposable camera back into her sweatshirt pocket and walked to class. It went a little out of her way to take a photo of the calendar in the office every morning to 'level set' the time and place of subsequent photos, but the final goal would be worth it.

Meanwhile under the building Black Widows put the finishing touches on her new costume hood while on the third floor ants chewed partway through one shoelace right at the grommet on Sophia's left shoe as the athlete sat in in-school detention.

Taylor walked down the hall with a slight bounce in her step. Today was shaping up to be another good day.

__________

That evening Taylor sneaked out of the house again and headed deeper into the city. No point to risk running into the Merchants again nearer the Docks.

So far she'd only managed to scare off one mugger with a timely swarm of bees and planned to go after a convenience store robbery she'd just noticed two blocks over when a familiar tick popped in and out of her senses and was headed this way.

Smaller bugs disappeared nearby Shadow Stalker, and she landed flies on the person she figured out was Kid Win by the pistols on the hips of his armor and the trademark hoverboard which sucked bugs into its vents.

Taylor didn't want her first meeting with the Wards to go as badly as her run-in with Oni Lee and the Merchants had, so she decided to hang back and just observe instead.

If Sophia hadn't been there she might have made the first move. However since Shadow Stalker was present, Taylor was reminded of the relevance of something her fathers' friend had said after his divorce: 'He wouldn't cross the street to piss on her even if she were laying there on fire.'

The convenience store being robbed was between a boarded up abandoned building and a used car dealership surrounded by an electric fence. Neon beer signs crowded for space in the front windows with locked ice freezers on the side opposite the car dealership. Power and phone lines crisscrossed above the multiple lighted signs on top of the roof.

Kid Win flew ahead into the sky above the car dealership for overwatch, Shadow Stalkers' ghost-assisted leaps almost carried her all the way there as they took in the situation. Unfortunately Taylor couldn't risk massing enough bugs to hear what they said clearly over the ambient sounds of the city, too much chance of being noticed.

One of the robbers, a tall burly bear of a man going by how far apart the flies Taylor had placed on his shoulders were, held a pistol on the cashier. Next to the door the second tall skinny man with long hair skulked behind a postcard display and peered out past the neon signs on the widow on the lookout for police. Too bad he didn't look up and see Kid Win on his hoverboard. The third robber, the smallest of the three, helped himself to something from a refrigerated case. Taylor sent a few flies into his jacket pocket and verified the stun gun inside.

Then Shadow Stalker sprinted in a wide arc and bypassed the car dealership entirely, flickered into her shadow form as she leapt high above the convenience store parking lot. She landed on the abandoned building on the far side from the direction she had originally come from with Kid Win to finally leap into the alley behind the convenience store.

Taylor was puzzled why Shadow Stalker would take such a circuitous route to ghost through the wall to the right of the rear security door. Especially with a robbery in progress. Maybe she didn't want to chance she might set off the security alarm and alert the robbers to her presence.
Shadow Stalker crept all the way up the convenience store aisle to the front of the store like a mountain lion hunting a deer. Kid Win dropped down about ten feet and the tall robber at the window shouted something.

Just as the big guy holding the pistol on the cashier turned his head, Shadow Stalker popped up and shot a tranquilizer dart into his neck, causing his shot at her to go wide. Behind Shadow Stalker, a glass refrigerator door shattered. The tall skinny robber on lookout panicked, ran away from her out the front and got gunned down by Kid Win, where he fell unconscious almost immediately.

The lumbering robber next to the cash register collapsed as the tranquilizers took effect, the final robber on his feet fumbled the stun gun out of his pocket just to end up with Shadow Stalkers foot embedded in his groin.

Kid Win landed and pulled out a bundle of zip ties from a long pocket on his belt. Shadow Stalker secured both robbers arms behind their backs. Taylor had finally caught up to the Wards and saw the crime scene through her own eyes and through her bugs senses when Shadow Stalker gave the robber curled painfully on the floor another kick for good measure when Kid Win's back was turned calling the Brockton Bay Police Department.

"No surprise Sophia's a bully even when she's in costume," Taylor thought.

Now that she actually saw the entire neighborhood in person from where she hid in the alley across the street, it brought up even more questions about Shadow Stalkers behavior. Why bother to go around three sides of the square building to enter through the back when the robbery was going on and the cashier could have been shot at any time? She took them down so effortlessly, Shadow Stalker could have gone right in the front through one of the neon signs hanging in the windows and maintained the same element of surprise instead of sneaking up on them from inside the convenience store.

Something didn't add up.

Taylor could understand Shadow Stalker not ghosting through the car dealerships' electrified chain link fence since there wasn't enough of a gap to turn solid again before reaching the building. Maybe Shadow Stalker didn't have the momentum to carry through? No, because she had ghost-leaped clear across the parking lot in order to circumnavigate the convenience store, so that wasn't it.

Taylor tried to assess the situation again. Let Sophia's actions speak louder than words. She'd gone through the wall next to the security door in back. Not through the door, but next to it. For that matter, why not ghost leap through the refrigerators on the side of the convenience store with the abandoned building?

Shadow Stalker hadn't dropped through the roof either. Taylor took another look at the crisscrossed phone lines and power lines above the plethora of lit signs on the roof of the convenience store. Why wouldn't Shadow Stalker want to ghost through them? She would have had to go in blind if she ghosted through the roof… but Shadow Stalker did that anyway when she ghosted through the wall next to the door in the back of the store.

Why didn't Shadow Stalker do any of those things? Was it that she didn't want to? Or was it that Shadow Stalker couldn't? Taylor pieced it together in her mind: Shadow Stalker avoided the electric fence, the neon signs, the refrigerator wall, the security door in back and the wires and lit signs on the roof. She also held a grudge against the robber with the stun gun, but not the one who had actually got a shot off at her. All had one commonality.

"A working theory, but how to test it?" Taylor pondered.

Taylor reached into her storage compartment and pulled out a wrinkled bill and debated whether or not to call the number scrawled on it.

 

[Chojomeka]

The worst enemy is the one who you believed beaten and beneath you, Sophia's going to find out just how true those words are.

 

[Biigoh]

Yes... Call Squealer on the Wards. She'll love you....

 

[Visual Pun]

Interlude: Merchants in Repose

Calm waves lapped on the beach of this overcast night, the thalassic susurrus of the surf soothed stretched nerves of many.

"ARE THEY FUCKIN' HERE YET?!?"

...But not of all.

"They're your guys, you should know," said a balaclava clad head which poked out of the semi truck, its flatbed trailer weighed down with the best scrap a vehicle Tinker could ever lust after.

A trackless bulldozer with fire scorched backhoe, helicopter turbine engines, farming tractors, gearboxes, differentials, car and truck axles, the fuselage of a 2-seater airplane, the winches off of a collapsed construction crane and assorted engines piled haphazardly and more overflowed the open top of one sturdy steel shipping container.

A second container held large sheets of steel and stacked steel I-beams as well as securely strapped down pressurized tanks of Oxygen, Acetylene, and Liquid Nitrogen among full tool chests and welding gear.

Skidmark muttered expletive laced complaints as time dragged on. The irritation to get this job finished so he could kick back and destroy some more brain cells increased in direct proportion to the rate the drugs he'd used to take the edge off metabolized.

Too bad Mush had practically O.D.'d yesterday and was still sleeping it off.

Skidmark had no one to talk to except Moist, that stuck-up asshole.

Eventually he went back to try, but mostly fail, to skip rocks across the water.

Sand and saltwater sprayed in the air as Squealer's vehicle brutally skimmed into view as the buxom blonde Tinker steered it up the beach to hover on a caged lightning storm.

Some sand fused into glass while spots of asphalt melted under the electrical discharges zapped randomly as Squealer steered her creation to a rest, multiple noisy engines idled to a stop one by one.

Squealer raised dark welding goggles from her face. "Hey baby, you miss me?" the Tinker asked as she leaned out the window of the bashed together kludge of a vehicle.

"Fuckin' A!" shouted Skidmark in response, "and the rest of the fuckin' alphabet too!"

"As delightful as nearly being electrocuted in the open ocean has been," said a top-hatted cape who stretched his legs after he exited the vehicle, "let's get this show on the road."

"Who pissed in your cornflakes, Trickster?" asked Sundancer while she helped a four armed Genesis move her comatose real body out of the passenger area.

"Let's just get going before anything happens," he said with a nervous glance back at the large modified shipping container secured to Squealer's vehicle with straps. Coil's mercenaries followed Trickster's instructions and removed the tie downs.

With a whoosh of displaced air the two cargoes on the vehicles swapped places like chess pieces in a castling maneuver. A second bump marked the transit of the Travellers container of personal belongings for the construction skip of tools and supplies.

A repetitious whine followed by a crack contrasted with sudden snapping sounds from down the beach while Coil's mercenaries re-secured both loads for transport.

Skidmark had piled dozens of his blueshifted layers of force on a driftwood log half buried in the beach sand and engaged in a rock skipping contest with Ballistic.

"OK, OK, OK... Five more layers down, a hundred bucks says my rock goes the farthest this time."

"You're on," said Ballistic, with a snap the rock in his palm leapt out into the ocean at incredible velocity.

Skidmark dropped his stone on the driftwood log and watched it rapidly accelerate, another thin layer of wood splintered from the log with a buzzsaw whine as the rock created a small sonic boom and sailed into the distance.

The mercenary drafted as referee raised his binoculars up and watched two plumes far out in the bay and said, "Skidmark got it this time."

"YES! Pay up!"

Ballistic counted out the money he owed the leader of the Merchants out of the winnings he'd already taken from the man.

Skidmark yelled, "Hey Moist! Reposition this log so it points at the PRT's rig, I bet I can hit it from here."

The waterlogged cape stood up from the damp patch where he sat, sand clung to his damp jeans since water continually condensed out of the air onto his skin, a rivulet of water rolled from the puddle he had created down into the surf.

Moist raised his arms and a rippling tentacle formed out of water topped by a large blob formed in the bay and moved toward the shore.

"Knock it off, dumbasses!" Squealer shouted, "We're ready to go! The stealth field's gonna cut way down as soon as we get movin'."

"Rain check?"

"Definitely."

Skidmark faded the blue layers of force out of existence and climbed next to Squealer in the cab.

An outside observer would have seen a semi truck suddenly appear and drive out of the beachfront parking lot while short lived dust devils of sand arose on the beach also apparently from nowhere.
__________

The lone light bulb flickered erratically for a moment where it dangled from the central peak of the army tent.

He lay flat on his back on a folding cot, the only conscious observer left after this winter campaign to push south past the line on a map denoting the parallel of fifty four degrees, forty minutes north.

It wasn't the sporadic moans of the wounded which got to him the most, nor the putrid septic stench of the dead and the dying as their numbers inexorably shifted from the latter to the former.

Not even the pain where his knees used to be, or that incessant itch where the arch of his right foot would have been if he hadn't stepped on that landmine.

No, the soaked bandages, uniform, and blanket clung to him. He sweated profusely as his body futilely fought the fires of infection which burnt through him even while snow fell silently mere inches away on the other side of canvas.

He'd never liked the heat. Where others would flock west to the beaches in the summertime he escaped east to mountains and cool glacier-fed lakes as often as possible to avoid the merest hint of muggy humid weather.

But here and now he knew that just like that doctor on that show about a space station had said, "Every problem eventually boils down to one of two things: Biology or Math."

Biology, in that his own had failed to overcome the infection which ravaged his body after the loss of his legs.

Math, in that impersonal cruel calculus of the greatest good for the most wounded with the best chance of recovery amid limited resources.

Triage. Lumped in with all the rest too far gone to save, the dead and the dying, or those who could not recover in time to flee the artillery bombardments coming ever northward from the enemy guns.

Over the interminable hours that passed he'd heard desperate whispered pleas to saints, angels, and even devils.

But there were no bargains brokered, no deals struck, no agreements kept or last minute reprieves granted for any.

Only the minor variations of paroxysms of death, reduced sounds which indicated life became rarer as the inexorable arrow of time flew on, occasionally punctuated by explosions coming nearer and nearer.

A lull in the bombardment, his own ability to draw breath was now unique among all others around him. Futile thoughts raced inside his skull, desperation almost gave way to panic as he tried to think of a way to survive this.

His own eyes were the only ones to see the white rectangle elongate in mid air, the woman step through, his were the only ears able to hear her offer.

Biology or Math. He accepted the narrowest of chances offering the slimmest possibility of survival, but when the only other option paid off at negative infinity, what choice was there, really?
__________

Bums brawled in the street a block ahead, a police car already pulled up to break up the fight. Squealers vehicle buoyed by forces which casually gave physics the finger turned and proceeded down the road.

Unseen by all save the few inside the energetic field generated by her vehicle.

Technically it wasn't a stealth field, but it served the same purpose.

Space warped around the vehicle seamlessly, a folded pocket which allowed almost all light to skip past them to any observer as if they weren't there at all.

Since some light could get in, but none could get out, the interior of the area warped around them gradually brightened the longer the tinker-tech was activated.

The recent long run from Boston had Squealer squinting against the brightness even through the thick smoked glass of her welders goggles.

Other staged distractions for the cost of a bottle of gin here or a baggie of pills there provided a traffic free, although circuitous, route into their destination. Just one of many abandoned warehouses near the Docks.

The seemingly haphazard mishmash of technology settled to the concrete floor.

Merchants opened hatches to either side of Squealer's creation and ran with cables coiled on spools which unrolled until they clamped on to pillars that supported the warehouse roof.

Strange energies conducted through the buildings' metal frame and anyone who happened to look in a window would see a dark, silent, empty warehouse.

Yet walk cross the threshold inside the building and shouted orders could be heard in the dim, but gradually brightening area.

This was how Squealer could weld, rivet, drill, and hammer yet never be disturbed or discovered as her creations took shape in the night, a different location every night.

An invisible floating chop shop to render stolen vehicles down to parts for easy resale or components for Squealers' latest creation.

"You wanna join me for a toke and poke?" Skidmark asked with a leer.

Squealer replied, "Nah, I gotta sort through the new toys and got some new boys to interview later as well."

"Cool, cool," said Skidmark, "Wake me with a blowjob when you get home."

Merchants drifted in over the next hour to help Squealer set up her transient workshop.

A Merchant lookout at a high window pointed and shouted, "Hey! Armsmaster's coming!"

Everyone dropped what they were doing and ran to the windows, tables and chairs pushed close to the glass outside.

Squealer bellowed commands at Merchants to fan out all along the widows.

"Here he comes!"

Thumbs tucked into her belt, Squealer yelled "It's a go! …In three! …two…"
__________

Armsmaster steered his motorcycle down the street between two abandoned warehouses alert for any gang activity.

Unknown to him, not fifteen feet away thirty Merchants had dropped their pants and mooned the arguably second most powerful Tinker on the planet.

Oblivious, he continued his patrol and drove away.

The sound of laughter and belts being re-buckled filled the warehouse.

"Operation 'Assmaster' never gets old!"
__________

The woman in the white lab coat stood on the other side of the painted line on the floor across the opening to his cell. The man with her hung back in the shadows, mostly unseen.

"I have to say, I'm less than impressed."

He glared at the shrouded figure and did his best to ignore the callous casual insult.

The woman consulted her clipboard and impersonally rattled off information about him as if he weren't even there. "The apparent partial transformation may have been exacerbated by his injured condition resulting in the profusion of lower vestigial appendages. None of them below the waist alone or in concert are strong enough to move even the atrophied mass of his torso. Effectively sessile. One of our rare Tinkers and only rated at level one or perhaps barely a two. Thinker zero or one since he can operate his overbuilt prosthetics without electronics 'by hand', or flipper as it were."

"Not even a candidate for the Nemesis program, then?"

"No electronics means no easy EMP vulnerability to exploit, although the sheer durability of his crude Tinkering holds some merit."

He didn't like being talked about like the mangiest dog in the pound, but it still beat the alternative he left behind. At least they provided him with tools and parts to build the admittedly basic designs that swam through his brain.

His artificial legs walked him around the half completed project of a miniaturized steam power plant held in place by the strong, bulky artificial arms still to be integrated into his battlesuit.

If only the damn thing weren't so hot he wouldn't have had to include so many heat sinks and the secondary electrical systems for ventilation fans and lights.

A brief flash of light glinted off the man's glasses as he nodded. "Nevermind, I know the perfect placement for him."

Well, it wasn't like he actually had a choice in the matter anyway.
__________

Squealer looked at the men in front of her. Drug addicts all, in deep debt to the Merchant organization or they wouldn't be here.

What separated these few from the pack was the jobs they had, or once had, before their addictions brought them to this point.

Over the sometimes deafening sounds of power tools and screech of tortured metal they lined up and stated their previous occupations.

They called out Engine Technician, a couple of Mechanics, an Electrician, a Machinist, a few Welders and one honest to goodness Sanitation Engineer.

Not the jumped-up title for a garbage man, but the guy who graduated college to learn the two most important things about city wide Plumbing. First: that water flows downhill, and second: that it ain't all water.

"You're all here because some of you might be useful stripping stolen cars to sell for parts or building my next vehicle instead of toting a rifle or becoming a new dealer for us," Squealer said over the din.

She pointed to a sturdy but beat up table with an anvil bolted on one end, a large vise on the other, and several hammers of different sizes inbetween.

"OK, first test," said Squealer as she held up a bulky foot-long bolt with a large hex nut halfway up it, inexpertly welded on in one place and handed it to a Mechanic, "unscrew this."

"You gotta be shitting me," he complained, holding the heavy metal in his hands, "that weld's huge."

"Right, you're out, go help the others unload." Squealer yanked the bolt out of his grasp and handed it to the next man in line.

With a mumbled "righty tighty, lefty loosey" the unshaven addict separated the threaded bottom half of the bolt from the hex nut welded to the top, a slight grin on his face at working the task to completion.

Squealer bounced her hands under her breasts and announced to the group, "These ain't brains, but I'm a Tinker, which makes me smarter than you. That also means if I tell you to do something, I don't want the first words outta your mouth to be a whiny bitchfest about how you can't do shit without even trying first."

She pointed at the Sanitation Engineer and said, "You, college guy. Poke your head through this," as she handed the man a length of steel rebar bent and welded into a six-inch across circle.

"Um, what exactly do you mean?" asked the Sanitation Engineer while he looked skeptically through the small ring of solid steel.

"I mean poke your head through it, like this…" said the Tinker. She sauntered up to him, leaned in close and reached her arm through the ring to flick him on the forehead as she playfully said, "Poke!"

A few chuckled when she took the ring back from the blushing man, tossed it on the table and said, "He did the right thing. If you don't understand what I tell ya to do, ASK."

"If ya don't, you just might end up with a nickname," Squealer turned and yelled at a Merchant in a leather apron pounding a rod through two clamped pieces of steel to create a large hinge, "AIN'T THAT RIGHT, 'HALO'?"

The Merchant in question looked up, frowned, and flipped off Squealer.

She laughed a little then turned back to the group, "Now, next each one of you grab one of those hammers on the table."

The men walked forward, elbowed each other for position, picked up a hammer and returned to the line.

Squealer appraised their choices, walked over to the burly man who took the largest sledgehammer and said, "OK, we get it. Understood. Message received, loud and clear. You have a tiny dick."

Amid the outbursts of nervous laughter of the assembled men, Squealer returned to the table and picked up a hammer of her own. Squealer turned back to the laughing men and said, "This next bit is for bragging rights. But also so it sinks in that if you're here in my shop, you work hard. No slacking, no excuses."

Squealer pointed to a clock on the wall, its' second hand swept rapidly towards twelve. "Arm straight, raise your hammer to shoulder level and keep it there for one minute," she said as she raised her own hammer, "starting… NOW."

After the first ten seconds the mens' hammers wavered slightly in the air, while Squealer's remained still, practically unmoving. The big sledgehammer was the first to fall and cracked the concrete.

Over the next ten seconds arms wobbled and weaved. "You in the red, no bending your elbow, you're out," Squealer said, "and you in the back... nice try, but no holding up your arm with your other arm. You're out too."

Five seconds later three of the remaining six men had dropped their arms. Squealer smiled a lopsided grin and said through clenched teeth, "Final four, time to separate the men from the boys."

Seven sweaty seconds later the next man dropped his arm and tried to massage some feeling back into it with his other hand. Squealer glanced at the clock, the second hand swept past the eight, then locked eyes with the bearded, bald, clock-watching Machinist and said, "Halfway there…"

He muttered "But..." and with his concentration broken dropped his hammer as well.

"OK strong guy…" said Squealer, but she was interrupted by a loud screech of metal moving against metal.

All attention in the noisy warehouse focused on the shifting parts inside the largest container. A transmission tipped over one side and an engine block went the other way and noisily banged on the ground.

"GET THE GUNS!" Squealer yelled as she ran toward the container of machinery hammer in hand and thought, "If Coil fucked us I'm gonna shove this hammer up his ass sideways."

A massive hydraulic fist lifted a tractor up in the air, another grasped the lip of the container and bent the steel with a complaining screech of metal.

An armored form eight feet tall rose into view, the faceplate a crudely welded mishmash of rusty iron grillwork and lenses from welders masks.

A few Merchants quick on the uptake realized their rifles would do little against this metal colossus and looked to Squealer to provide orders.

The hulking form dropped the tractor on top of an airplane cockpit which shattered.

Now both metallic hands crushed the steel container rim further, the metal man leaned forward and flipped head over heels out of the massive bin of parts with a cacophonous clatter.

Squealer got a good look at the powered armor as it rolled onto all fours.

Hydraulic rams mimiced muscle groups, pushing instead of pulling. Each foot had two large toes angled out for stability.

The faceplate popped open and a man's head lolled forward and vomited copiously on the floor beneath him.

"Eeeughk... Milk was a baaaad choice…"
__________

He reviewed the files on the Merchants one more time.

"You have the backup locations for your dead drops in case you communications gear conks out, yes?"

He stared down at the obsequious little man Coil employed to handle some of his affairs. 'Yes, Mr. Porter, I've got it. You're sure this insertion plan is going to work?"

"Oh yes, definitely. It's not like they would turn away an apparent addict and your designs are congruent with Squealer's own style."

He slipped the bottle of ipecac into his breast pocket to sell the illusion and climbed into the container as cranes loaded equipment on top of his battle suit.

Even with the power plant running at minimum the delightful heat permeated his body.

At least he wouldn't be cold. He hated the cold.
__________

The armored suit clambered into a standing position. The man inside asked, "This ain't New Orleans, is it?"

"Nope," answered Squealer, "Brockton Bay. You got a name?"

"Call me Trainwreck. Brockton Bay, huh. East Coast?"

Squealer nodded.

"Good. The farther away from Cranial the better."

Squealer turned and lifted the bolt from the table. "Since you're new in town, you might as well join these guys in the interview…"

A minute later at the mechanical man's feet lay two halves of a cut bolt, a hex nut unceremoniously stripped off one end with its' weld broken by force, the remains of a ring of steel rebar warped and twisted by hydraulic driven fingers before it was yanked in two.

"We'll skip the hammer test," Squealer said, and turned to the Electrician. "Here, hold this."

The man reached out and grabbed the metal ends of the jumper cables and convulsed as he was electrocuted.

"My ASS you're an Electrician!" Squealer said, unclipping the jumper cables she had connected to a car battery earlier,, "Drag this dipshit out of here."

Trainwreck watched the impostor get carried out and said, "Anyone have something to eat? That technicolor yawn really emptied me out."

At Squealer's hip a phone buzzed to life, the Tinker didn't recognize the incoming number.

Squealer answered, "Yeah? Who is this?"

"This is…" the voice on the phone sighed slightly, "…Butterfly. Kid Win's at the convenience store at Lord Street and Mission. BBPD are on their way"

"Great!" Squealer replied, "I'm heading out right now. Call me later for your finder's fee."

Butterfly interrupted, "One more thing. Shadow Stalker's with him, and I noticed she's avoiding power lines and neon signs like they're contagious."

Sparks flew as Trainwreck tapped the jumper cables on his armored body to the tune of 'Shave and a Haircut'.

Squealer glanced at Trainwreck with a smirk, "Thanks, that'll come in handy. Squealer out."

She turned to the prospective apprentice mechanics with a feral grin. "Okay, boys, saddle up! This is your trial by fire!" She pointed to the vehicle in the center of the cavernous building, "Halo! Unhook the cables and pile in. Half of you with guns stay here and lay low, the other half come with me."

She pointed to a wet lump in a hammock suspended over a drain in the concrete floor and said, "Somebody wake Moist, we might as well take him along."

Squealer addressed the new recruits and said, "Out there, they all think you're worthless junkies. In here, you have value. Everyone contributes, everyone profits. We're Merchants! We take all we want and sell the rest!"

The tinker barked more orders as the chop shop ceased operations then approached Trainwreck.

"You bring that too," Squealer pointed to the car battery and jumper cables, "We'll knock over a fast food place on the way back."

Steam hissed as ungainly pistons propelled the mechanical man forward. "Best offer I've had all day," he said and clambered aboard the now-hovering vehicle.

Squealer accelerated through the open warehouse doors and said, "I can tell this is gonna be the start of a beautiful friendship…."

 

[Chojomeka]

Armsmaster steered his motorcycle down the street between two abandoned warehouses alert for any gang activity.

Unknown to him, not fifteen feet away thirty Merchants had dropped their pants and mooned the arguably second most powerful Tinker on the planet.

Oblivious, he continued his patrol and drove away.

The sound of laughter and belts being re-buckled filled the warehouse.

"Operation 'Assmaster' never gets old!"

Click to shrink...

Truly no matter how many times I see this part I begin to laugh...it's just so true!

 

[Biigoh]

This ish awesome. Also, a very nice Train wreck back story.

And yes, Taylor just screwed over Sophia bad. :3

 

[Visual Pun]

The next chapter might as well be titled 'Repercussions, or Dominoes Fall...'

 

[Visual Pun]

Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay, had to deal with kids off for Spring Break and also render unto Ceasar what it Ceasars' (Pay your taxes, the roads aren't going to pave themselves...)

Gaiatsu 2.4

Butterfly stayed hidden in the alley, not wanting to betray her presence or become linked to anything which was about to occur.

She still felt a little morally conflicted about having made the call, but justified it with three words: Sophia. Fucking. Hess.

Currently it was like a live TV show, two police cars with flashing red and blue lights in the convenience store parking lot as the Wards gave their statements to the BBPD.

The apprehended criminals sat handcuffed in the squad cars still to be driven off to jail.

Like the feral growl of an angry wounded animal the roar of engine noise flooded the street from everywhere as an armor plated monstrosity of skimmed into view on uncountable arcs of lightning.

Tortured metal screeched as one of the BBPD cars was sideswiped followed by a horrific oddly hollow crunch and hiss of pressurized water from the fire hydrant rammed off of its mounting.

Contrary to expectations, the water did not spray into the air, instead a globular mass of water somehow held itself together while it grew and grew even as the Merchant vehicle rocked from the disembarkation of a massive metal man who moved with hissing pistons and belched vents of steam.

The police officers pulled their service pistols and opened fire where their bullets joined Shadow Stalker's crossbow bolts to bounce off the brobdingnagian Brute ineffectively.

Kid Win tried to take to the air, but couldn't even detach the hoverboard from the back of his armor before the aquatic mass the size of a minivan simply enveloped him.

Based off of Moist's flailing arms and Kid Win's energetic deluged cavitations the teen Tinker might as well have been put in a oversized washing machine on spin cycle.

Shots from the lone laser pistol barely made it three feet into the water only to leave a line of bubbles where the water had boiled before absorbing the beam's energy.

Squealer's vehicle sent out a shockwave of distorted air which caught the cops unaware and knocked them off their feet.

Across the street the expanding wavefront even managed to forcefully bump the trashcans Butterfly had hidden behind as the crash and tinkle of broken windows came from all around.

Shadow Stalker ghosted briefly and was unaffected by the buffeting force in her breaker state. She crouched behind a cop car and reloaded her crossbows as the cyclopean steampunk stomped towards her.

With a ghost-assisted leap Shadow Stalker fired from ten feet in the air at the piston pushed powered armor on the other side of the BBPD car.

Precision use of her powers sent one bolt halfway into the fifty gallon barrel sized left forearm which apparently caused him to finch away as if in pain and the other shot re-solidified in the middle of the metal man's forehead.

"Walk that one off asshoOAAaaAAiiieee!!!"

Electricity snapped when the giant juggernaut whipped Shadow Stalker in the air above the police cruiser with the jumper cables.

The faked flinch was actually camouflage for him to whirl his right arm rapidly around and what had appeared to be a power cable inexpertly attached to the exterior of his armor flew loose to catch the Ward while in her breaker state.

The overconfident electrocuted former vigilante painfully smashed into the roof of the patrol vehicle, her prone form cast eerie moving shadows as the red and blue lights revolved beneath her body.

With a contemptuous flick of his wrist he broke off the crossbow bolt imbedded in his forearm and tossed the remains in Shadow Stalker's mask, leaned closer to the downed Ward menacingly and pointed to the bolt imbedded in his armored helmet.

"Ha, ha! You missed all my vital spots!"

"TRAINWRECK!" Squealer bellowed from the cab of her vehicle, "Quit fuckin' around and load that pig-mobile on the flatbed. We got what we came for!"

Kid Win was on all fours and vomited water as Moist climbed into Squealer's rig with one of the Ward's pistols captured as spoils of war.

The half-crushed cop car with two panicked robbers still handcuffed in the backseat rocked on its' suspension as Trainwreck unceremoniously scooped up the damaged vehicle and dropped it on the flatbed of Squealer's vehicle before clambering up after it.

With the deafening roar of engines and extension of middle fingers the Merchant Machine skimmed away on a platform of lightning to disappear without a trace not half a block away.

Butterfly briefly surveyed the aftermath of the cape battle, well... ambush if she was honest with herself, she had called down on the Wards and police officers as they moved slowly amid the broken glass scattered everywhere by that shockwave weapon of Squealers'.

"It couldn't happen to a nicer bitch," Butterfly thought as she made her way to the far end of the alley to jog back home. She was comforted in the knowledge that for Sophia the worst part was yet to come.

Filling out the paperwork.

She jogged home in the darkness, confident she would get to sleep well before Sophia had bumbled her way through whatever forms she was required to fill out as a Ward.

One advantage to being an independent hero the PRT never mentioned.

She was asleep in her own bed just over half an hour later.

__________

Hours later in the middle of the graveyard shift Deputy PRT Director Rennick read the Wards after action reports taken on the way to the hospital where Panacea was before she went home for the evening.

Supplemented by video from the BBPD cameras as well as the convenience store's own footage gave them an excellent overview of what happened.

New power armor Tinker Trainwreck used jumper cables as an improvised cat-o-nine-tails versus Shadow Stalker.

She was faked out by the car battery hidden in his fist, thought the cables up his arm were attached.

Kid Win was double teamed by Squealer who ran over a fire hydrant which gave Moist plenty of water to work with.

Even though his Hoverboard was barely attached to his back it stayed on under the hydrokinetic assault, but he did lose one hard light pistol, the one out of its holster.

So far no success in tracking the Wards' stolen equipment.

Deputy Director Rennick sipped his coffee and typed his own reports, assigned preliminary power rankings for Trainwreck and pulled together other reports of increased Merchant activity, especially the rumored new insect Master mercenary.

ABB and E88 would see the increase in membership as an escalation and act accordingly.

Have to schedule extra patrols this weekend... Shit, that goddamn mandatory Dance thing was the day after tomorrow.

Just have to stack the deck with as many Wards tonight, tomorrow morning, and Saturday to free up the Protectorate capes to deal with it.

He scheduled a PRT representative to go to Anders Memorial Hospital and follow up on the reported muscular rogue who self-healed in the ER, try to get to him before the gangs recruited him.

Too bad Miss Militia had to reinforce Kid Win and Shadow Stalker instead of doing new cape outreach so now the trail had grown cold.

Just our luck he'd end up in one of the gangs, or worse in the Merchants and delude Skidmark he had enough firepower to take a run at E88.

He uploaded the first draft to the server and went to refill his coffee mug before editing his report to send to Director Piggot .

__________

Timeline A: Coil's computer chimed as he received an automatic download of Deputy Director Rennick's report from the backdoor he'd had Tattletale hack into the PRT systems for him. It made for fascinating reading.

Timeline B: Thomas Calvert rolled over and went back to sleep.
​

 

[Chojomeka]

Timeline A: Coil's computer chimed as he received an automatic download of Deputy Director Rennick's report from the backdoor he'd had Tattletale hack into the PRT systems for him. It made for fascinating reading.

Timeline B: Thomas Calvert rolled over and went back to sleep.

Click to shrink...

This is probably by far the best use of his power I've ever seen.

 

[askldjflkajskje]

Timeline A: Coil's computer chimed as he received an automatic download of Deputy Director Rennick's report from the backdoor he'd had Tattletale hack into the PRT systems for him. It made for fascinating reading.

Timeline B: Thomas Calvert rolled over and went back to sleep.

Click to shrink...

Coil, like the noble dolphin, undergoes an unusual form of slumber known as "unihemispheric slow-wave sleep." When it's time to rest, the little Coils and dolphins shut down only one hemisphere of their brain at a time, allowing the other half to control breathing functions and monitor their surrounding environment for potential dangers.

 

[jrbless]

This is probably by far the best use of his power I've ever seen.

Click to shrink...

Then you haven't read this yet: https://forums.spacebattles.com/thr...sion-thread-40.311933/page-1012#post-16496790

 

[Drak4806]

Then you haven't read this yet: https://forums.spacebattles.com/thr...sion-thread-40.311933/page-1012#post-16496790

Click to shrink...

I like the one where he's does random fun stuff all the time like robbing a bank in one timeline while depositing a check in the another.

 

[jrbless]

I like the one where he's does random fun stuff all the time like robbing a bank in one timeline while depositing a check in the another.

Click to shrink...

I haven't seen that one. Link please?

 

[Drak4806]

I haven't seen that one. Link please?

Click to shrink...

Somewhere on SB don't remember where.

 

[Visual Pun]

Gaiatsu 2.5

It was another perfect start to her school day.

Taylor had just taken a picture in the school office to cement any subsequent pictures from the disposable camera in her pocket in time and place.

Then it happened.

A tap on her left shoulder to made Taylor turn and look, momentarily confused that there was no one there. An explosion of pain filled her universe when an elbow smashed into the side of her head. She stumbled away from the unexpected blow, tripped over something and was shoved headfirst into a garbage can at the juncture of two hallways. A quick lift and Taylor's face was buried in trash, her legs flailed helplessly up in the air.


With a scowl Sophia stared down any potential witnesses, watched their eyes flick away from her own as they all broke eye contact one by one. Sophia basked in her return to power over these pitiful losers, until some upperclassmen Track Team members walked around the corner. She knew they would rat her out to Jesse if she beat down Hebert a little more so she sprinted up the stairs three at a time to her in-school suspension.
It felt good to blow off a little steam after being ambushed by the Merchants last night.

"What kind of asshole junk-robot makes a whip out of jumper cables, anyway?" Sophia thought.

At least the PRT vans had dropped them off at Anders Memorial where Panacea was finishing up her rounds. The New Wave cape had healed Kid Win and her before leaving for the night, with the usual blah, blah, blah; eat more and build more muscle over the next three days. No clue why the girl had babbled at her about Lyme Disease for so long though.

As soon as Sophia got home last night she choked down an entire package of sliced turkey and rummaged in the hiding place on top of her closet door to give herself an injection before bed.

"Hey, if one boost is good, then more is better, right?" Sophia thought as she drifted off to sleep.

The needle and bottle of steroids lay on her nightstand for her next injection when she woke up. The all too familiar 'roid rage was upon her by the time she got to school and spotted Hebert in the hall. With her back turned, oblivious, it was too perfect to pass up.

As Sophia entered the in-school suspension room she thought, "Maybe I can goad Kenny the Skinhead into arm wrestling and make tomorrow be 'leg day' instead..."


By the time Taylor had ungracefully extracted herself from the garbage can the bell rang for first period. With practically empty hallways she cleaned herself off as she walked and was grateful the garbage can held mostly paper at this time of day and not half-eaten food like it would later.

She apologized to Mrs. Knott and took her desk in the computer class and reached out with her senses to her insects while she worked on the assignment.

Taylor fumed silently as her thoughts raced,. "How the hell had Sophia got rid of that tick? It had been buried all the way under her skin for weeks, why had bitchcakes decided to do something about it now? I guess I probably should have stuck around longer last night to see what happened in the aftermath. I also shouldn't have fed the rest of the ticks to her Black Widows, now I have to find more before I can tag Sophia again."

In the third floor detention room, her bugs confirmed it was Sophia by the sagging sock elastic. The tick Taylor had used to track her was nowhere to be found. The situation was like the computer problem Mrs. Knott had assigned, too much depended on a single point of failure. Taylor had grown too used to noting Sophia by the only tick in her range so that when it was gone she merged into the crowd, overlooked and effectively invisible.

Taylor mentally sorted through the bugs in her range and didn't even find any ticks on a mangy dog who accompanied a homeless guy dumpster diving behind the school kitchen. Too bad she couldn't conceive of a vector to get his master's tapeworm into Sophia as well. However his crabs infestation would find its way to Sophia by way of the exercise gear in her gym locker before the end of the school day. Taylor would have to swing by Sophia's house and set the crotch crickets to breed once the infestation had set in so she would always have a secondary way to tell where Sophia was from now on.

If only she could find another tick...


Taylor had made it to World Affairs class before Mr. Gladly again. From the hallway she heard a guy say, "Hey, Boo-Boo Buttsu..."

Madison interrupted him in a slow sarcastic monotone, "Oh... Take... Me... You... (yawn) Stallion... Take... Me... Now."

"Uh, what?" he replied urbanely.

"OK, studmuffin," Madison said venomously, "If that's what you want, whip it out, right here, right now."

"Um. Listen, I..." he began apologetically.

"No? Then go back to dating Rosie Palm and her five sisters," Madison interrupted with an over-exaggerated wave of her hand, "using such a deathgrip you'll end up looking like a lopsided Popeye!"

"But I didn't..."

"No, you DIDN'T. Guess what, I DIDN'T either. It was an April Fool's day joke. LAST. WEEK. Acknowledge. Move on."

"I'm not..."

"You're not going to harass me anymore?" Madison pointed at the boy and said sweetly, "Oh, so kind of you."

Madison pointed at him with her left hand as well and said, "But if you keep it up, I'll tell everyone you claimed that... this," she pointed both index fingers to the sky as she brought her curled fingers into contact, "was ten inches."

The erstwhile bandwagon-jumping bully paled in terror and tried to apologize, "OK, Ok, ok, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

While the socially defeated boy retreated to his desk, Julia high-fived Madison and said, "Oh my god, that gets better every time you do it."

"Wait until I break out some of the lines from Real Genius and Pump Up the Volume," Madison said, "I'm so glad my Mom showed me clips from those movies after I asked for her advice on how to handle this."


At lunch Emma wouldn't shut up about this fashion shoot she had last night and how 'Phillippe loved the new haircut' and on and on about other fashion minutiae. Julia and Madison were just part of the gathering as Emma held court, Madison fed her a line or asked a question which kept the topic of Emma's conversation focused on Emma. It was practically a lesson in how to ingratiate oneself to a narcissist.

Sophia had skipped lunch and remained upstairs in detention and was in the middle of a tricep dip competition against her fellow delinquents.

"How the hell did everything I've set up against them come crashing down already?" Taylor thought frustratedly. The rest of the school day dragged on interminably, she longingly awaited her Dad to finally fall asleep so she could put on her Butterfly costume and take out her frustrations on the criminal element somewhere in town.


Butterfly had jogged across that vague line which separated gang territories a few minutes ago when insects at the edge of the range detected something odd.

Two men in suits were trying to force open a locked door at an otherwise nondescript windowless building with several expensive cars parked in front of it.

As her bugs investigated further they entered an area where sounds were deadened and some quality of the air itself apparently thickened into a miasma, somehow slightly more difficult for her bugs to move through it.

Electrical junction boxes on the back of the building had the same swampy effect cloaking them as well as security cameras positioned at the ends of the alley behind the building.

Oddest of all were the armored lizard-horses or buffalo-dinosaurs and a human form who waited in that alley.

She could detect from a few of the bugs inside a moving bubble devoid of whatever shrouded the rest of the interior of the building.

Inside that bubble were three people who each carried a bag or two as they strode purposefully toward the rear exit and deftly avoided whoever groped their way near their bubble.


Grue guided Regent and Tattletale past guards and gamblers as they made their way out of the Casino they had just robbed. Tattletale shifted the full bag to a more comfortable position on her shoulders and brushed a fly away from her face.

A bug had landed on each of them. Bugs on furniture in the room to delineate space, Bugs keeping pace with them as they walked, Insects under Master control…

Tattletale said, "Regent, scan the roofs as we exit. That cape, the Merchant's mercenary I told you about is out there."

"Roger, dodger."


Butterfly walked in a crouch across the roof as quietly as she could after she climbed up the fire escape on the side of the building and finally got a look at the alley below with her own eyes.

Tendrils of darkness oozed around a doorframe and enveloped the lights in the alley save for the bulb over the door itself, suddenly kicked open noiselessly by a well built young black man who carried two large duffel bags.

She leaned forward to get a better look at his companions, a masked young woman in an evening dress with her hair up and a slighter man in a mask.

The thinner guy glanced her way right when her calves spasmed which caused her to pitch forward and fall gracelessly off the two storey building to land painfully amidst a heap of garbage bags piled in a dumpster.

Butterfly flailed in the darkness which now surrounded her as she struggled to get to her feet in the odd enveloping blackout, the bugs she had placed on the robbers moved her way rapidly.

Her swarms moved to attack them even one of the huge mutated things body checked the dumpster she was in into the wall behind her. She was knocked back into the garbage bags split open by her fall as she sensed the gargantuan animals as their riders goaded them to run further away.

Butterfly still felt the effects of that fall in earnest as she cautiously forced her aching body out of the alley which was still cloaked by the cloying, pervasive darkness. Her bugs sensed Casino guards with submachine guns venture out into the enshrouded area, yet even in her injured state Butterfly avoided them and turned the corner to make her own getaway.

At least they weren't firing blindly and... too late, they actually were shooting at each other in the sound-enveloping darkness. She sensed two fall prone, probably shot, while three others pulled their triggers and aimlessly sprayed bullets to ricochet in the darkened alley.

Butterfly limped away from the just-robbed Casino and dug in her storage compartment for painkillers in her First Aid kit. The long slog back home would be excruciating without them, and it was still early enough that she considered it worth the risk to catch a bus most of the way home. A twist and pull removed the plug for the hole she'd drilled through her mask. She placed the pill inside the end of the straw, an ersatz proboscis, she fit through her mask, swallowed the pill and leaned her free hand on the brick wall as she drank from the small bottle of water taken from her storage compartment.

A disturbance at the far end of the narrow road in front of her moved aside bugs without her control, just barely nudging them out of the way. Her head snapped up, but she wasn't sure she saw anything as she sensed… whatever it was disappear again while the insects it had displaced were hardly perturbed when whatever it had been appeared in the first place.

"Oh crap," she thought, "It's Oni Lee…"

Then the same thing happened close to the edge of her range a few blocks behind her, she sensed him raise a hand to his ear as if he talked to someone by radio but he'd disappeared again before she could turn to look.

She discarded the water bottle, scrambled for her pepper spray and forced herself to move ahead faster despite her pain. A shock of adrenalin flooded her body as she prepared for another fight against the homicidal teleporter, but without backup this time.

"I don't know what's worse, if he thinks I had something to do with the robbery or if he doesn't," She didn't know if which she dreaded more; the possibility of torture for information or just being killed summarily because she didn't know anything.

Once was happenstance. Twice is coincidence, Three times is enemy action, the old saying goes. This was confirmed as she sensed another disturbance shift her bugs on the far side of the office park on the opposite side of the road.

Fear gripped her guts as she thought, "He's toying with me…" and considered whether to draw her collapsible baton or that large hunting knife.
He spoke again, but she couldn't make out what he said with her dispersed insects over two and a half blocks away.

What she could hear was a muffled yet dreadfully familiar voice answer "OK, got her centered in my sights." from her swarms a not even a block away above and behind her.

"Oh no… no, no, no, no, no…." Taylor's mind froze as her pepper spray dropped from her limp fingers.

Dauntless teleported into the vacant street beside her, walked toward her slowly with a glowing shield held defensively before him while he gestured toward her with a raised Arclance and said, " You would be Butterfly, I presume?"

"Butterfly, really?" her swarms heard Shadow Stalker mutter. "I ought to shoot her just for picking such a candy-ass name."

With the Protectorates' rising star in front of her, as her unknowing school bully pointed a loaded crossbow at her back she thought, "This day just keeps on sucking more than the Hoover test facility."

 

[Visual Pun]

Gaiatsu 2.6
"Goddamn Merchants can't keep their mouths shut I guess." Taylor thought.

Her mind raced about how to best play the situation. Some part of her even wanted to try and fight her way out of this scenario.

She imagined in the aftermath of violence as she attempted to explain that she'd had a really bad day. From getting tripped off of a two storey building, almost being shot, dealing with Oni Lee and then just her life in general... She certainly wasn't in a particularly talkative mood. She wondered at what point during that screed she'd be hit with containment foam and carted away.

Instead should she be confident, try and play up the professional mercenary aspect? Perhaps use humor to portray a ditzy façade which categorized her as unthreatening?

She decided to downplay, deflect, and defuse the situation instead. She slumped her shoulders with a dramatic sigh said, "Yes, I'm Butterfly. Long story, but I had to head off other choices that were worse."

"We heard rumors of a new cape from informants on the street," said Dauntless, "A Merchant bug controller."

"I'm not in the Merchants, I'm an independent Hero." Butterfly said.

Insects around Shadow Stalker's hidden perch heard a snort of derision, "Liar."

"You know, the Protectorate offers addiction rehabilitation services to former gang members," Dauntless said.

Shadow Stalker murmured under her breath, "Stomp her druggie little face in, already."

Butterfly raised her palms placatingly, "Not an addict, not a Merchant, just got pulled in when it all went down."

"So, might be a mercenary, might belong to the Merchants. Care to explain?'

"Just string her along and we'll track her back to the rest of the addicts." Shadow Stalker said.

Dauntless raised his shield arm and tapped a pattern against his helmet. Shadow Stalker's commentary to him cut out, but I could still hear it through the bugs around her impromptu snipers nest.

Glad she hadn't poisoned the well with a bad joke answer like, "Would you believe, 'Her Megalomaniac Highness, Supreme Empress of the Swarm' was already taken?" Taylor would have bet money that Sophia would have just shot her in the back on general principles.

Butterfly considered her answer carefully, "The Merchants... It wasn't joining them so much as trying to survive against Oni Lee when they turned up and fought him too. More like 'Any port in a storm', or 'Needs must as the Devil drives'."

"Or it takes scum to know scum." interjected Shadow Stalker.

Dauntless lowered his shield, rested his Arclance against his shoulder and said, "Or 'The enemy of my enemy'…"

"…is my enemy's enemy. No more, no less." Butterfly interrupted, glad she remembered #29 of a list she had read while she researched mercenaries on the computer.

Dauntless said "I'm just...very confused that you were willing to help a gang of what are literally disease-ridden drug addicts infamous for mugging people and hooking them on addictive drugs to expand their client base. There's...kind of a reason the Merchants are regarded as the lowest of the low, scum by even human-trafficking or racist thug drug-dealer standards."

Butterfly explained, "I didn't want to help them, I just don't like the idea of ANYONE dying, and everyone there was extremely close to getting sliced up by Oni Lee. It's the same reason I carry epi-pens with all the time, because there might just be that one time where they are needed. I even used one on a guy afterwards who had trouble breathing."

"Dumbass just placed herself at the scene," Shadow Stalker said, "keep her talking and see what other crimes she admits to."

"Aptly put," Dauntless replied and inclined his head, "and as for the mercenary part of it?"

"Technically true, I guess," Butterfly said, "After Oni Lee ran off they made an assumption based on the quality of my costume even though it was my first night out. It seemed safest to go along with it and let them throw money at me rather than start up another fight against 4 capes and all their henchmen just seemed wrong at the time."

"Bullshit. Then why did you accept payment and NOT take them down once Oni Lee fled? You had the opportunity to didn't you? Besides, beating them up and taking their money isn't mugging if they are villains." Shadow Stalker opined.

She would never have even thought to seriously consider joining the Merchants. Right now she envisioned herself as an independent hero, kind-of mercenary and the only confirmed drug abuser in her day to day life was currently denigrating other drug abusers as unworthy to live while pointing loaded a weapon at her back. Taylor considered the irony and hypocrisy of it all, culminating in that moment when she realized that the drug peddling, diseased addict supervillains were better people than Sophia.

Dauntless said, "I get that you're still coming to grips with what happened. That's why having a support system like the Wards is so worthwhile."

"Like I said, I didn't expect so many repercussions from a first night out in costume," Butterfly said.

Shadow Stalker scoffed, "She's paid by disgusting drug-peddlers, how long until she also forces their shit on men, women, and children whenever she can. You know, addicting them against their will and all that? I'd rather have a quick death."

"Well, since you're new you can get compensated for returning stolen goods or a keep a portion of confiscated money through the spoils system once you fill out the paperwork at the PRT offices." Dauntless explained. "It's not the Wild West, though, so don't just take anything not nailed down and leave the claw hammer at home."

"Oh, OK… and now that you know I'm not a villain, can you get Shadow Stalker to stop her William Tell impression?" Butterfly gestured over her shoulder behind her. "I don't have an apple on my head."

Shadow Stalker noticed bugs form a smiley face and the word 'HI' on the ledge in front of her from where she took cover behind the chimney. "A cutesy name, and now this happy horseshit?" she thought disgustedly.

"How did you know she was there?" Dauntless asked.

"I noticed your teleporting around pushed away my bugs, and half panicked when I thought it might be Oni Lee. I only noticed her up there when I was searching for where he might be lurking," Butterfly lied. "Besides, once I saw you were heroes I knew you wouldn't shoot me without probable cause, like if I pulled a weapon or something, which is why I dropped my pepper spray. Mind if I pick it up now?"

"Certainly, as long as you're putting it away," the Protectorate hero said, "After talking to you, you don't seem like the type to pull a weapon in front of the authorities."
Shadow Stalker dropped down across the gap between buildings as she flickered in and out of her Breaker state and said, "So what's Merchant scum like you doing out here in ABB turf anyway?"

She could see correcting this misconception being a recurring theme throughout her cape career.

"I AM NOT A MERCHANT! I was keeping Oni Lee from trying to kill me. That doing so helped the Merchants was an unintended side-effect."

Butterfly placed her pepper spray back into her storage compartment and pointed to the unnaturally dark alley a block or so behind her and said, "I stumbled across a robbery in progress. A Casino was being robbed over that way, and I got slammed into a dumpster by buffalo-dinosaur things ridden by three people in eveningwear plus a punk rocker chick in masks when I tried to investigate."

"Then you two showed up while I tried to walk it off."

"The BBPD only called in the Undersiders, nothing about a Casino robbery, probably an illegal gang front," Dauntless said, "Let me go scout the area…"

"No need," said Butterfly as she reordered swarms of insects on the brick wall over her head into a map of the surrounding area, "The X's are guys with guns, the O's are the two… no, another guy just caught a bullet, make that three who fell to friendly fire shooting blindly in the darkness, no one else in the alley."

"I could use this..." Shadow Stalker thought.

Dauntless peered past her to see Grue's darkness persisting in an alley two blocks away and noted the X's moving and asked, "You're making this map in real time? From inside of that darkness? No delay?"

"No delay. And yes, I can sense the bugs under my control inside that darkness."

"Never the best idea to rush in blindly," said Dauntless gesturing to the persistent cloud of Grue's darkness.

Shadow Stalker surreptitiously disconnected her communication gear.

"One of them is groping his way out this end of the alley," Butterfly said, "He's going to appear right…."

A swarm of bugs flew ahead to form two loose crosshairs which lined up outside the preternatural darkness.

Butterfly finished the sentence, "…there."

Dauntless pointed his Arclance through the flying bugs and zapped an arm holding a submachine gun as it emerged from the darkness, an Asian man in a suit collapsed halfway out of the alley, unconscious.

Shadow Stalker scribbled a quick note and palmed the piece of paper while Dauntless was preoccupied securing the unconscious man.

"The other guy wandered back inside the Casino." Butterfly said.

"Shadow Stalker, please inform Butterfly here about the benefits of joining the Wards while I call this in." Dauntless said as he clapped the insect master on the shoulder.

Butterfly winced at the contact, a bruise probably already formed under her costume either from the fall or monstrous sideswipe of the dumpster she had landed in.

"Ouch," Shadow Stalker sympathized as she turned her head and watched Dauntless walk away to place the call, "Well, one perk of joining the Wards is the healthcare. I took a tumble last night and Panacea fixed me up, right as rain."

"So that's how she got rid of the tick under her skin," Taylor realized disappointedly, "and her Breaker form must have prevented the crabs infestation from gaining hold."

Butterfly said, "So you get to be the cheerleader, 'Rah, rah, rah, Join the Wards', is that it?"

"Fuck that shit," whispered Shadow Stalker who turned to face Butterfly now that Dauntless was out of hearing range, "I want to hire you to tie up a loose end from my own career as a... how'd you put it? 'Independent Hero'."

Butterfly cocked her head in startlement as Shadow Stalker stealthily passed her a folded up piece of paper.

"I thought you cared about me possibly being a Merchant," Butterfly said in low tones.

"I don't. At all. It takes a special kind of idiotic stupidity for the Merchants to sell drugs. Either that or they're just plain bad," Shadow Stalker replied, "I don't give a shit what they're into as long as you don't hang up your mercenary hat just yet."

Taylor wished she had a voice recorder so she could replay this moment of Sophia breaking the law over and over again in more than just her memories. At least the phone number now in her hand would be some evidence.

Butterfly replied, "Yeah, I mean you need to be really evil or stupid to sell people addictive substances like coffee, or cola and don't get me started on how evil chocolate is."

"Smartass." Shadow Stalker said, "Call me later and we can hash out the details. Once my job with you is done I'll tell you the real deal on the Wards."

Dauntless returned and said, "The BBPD are on the way. In the mean time, let me cover a few points about Wards membership Shadow Stalker probably missed..."

"Dick," thought Butterfly and Shadow Stalker simultaneously.
_____

Oni Lee surveyed the BBPD cars parked around the Casino from the roof of a neighboring tall apartment block and called Lung.

The kamikaze teleporter told his boss about the Casino heist, Grue's darkness as it evaporated, and that new Merchant cape as she was interviewed by the PRT heroes in the aftermath.

"She shall suffer the fate of all moths that approach flame." Lung intoned gravely.


Author's Note:

If some of this dialogue seems eerily familiar, then you've been paying attention to the comments (across several sites). Thanks to Eternity Dragon – NecroMac - Akritedes – Clappie – Firethorn - Shulta - The Stormbringer - Omnis - Drachir - Hye and the TheUnicorn for having such insightful (or snarky) commentary to mine for gold. Who knew this kind of thing could happen outside of a PHO Interlude?
​

 

[Chojomeka]

I wonder what Shadow Stalker could be hiring Butterfly for.

 

[Ack]

Sophia's going to hire Butterfly to screw with Taylor, isn't she?

 

[Visual Pun]

>rolls up newspaper to smack whoever is peeking at the Author's notes through wormholes this time...<

Oh... Hi, Ack.

Newspaper? What newspaper? Look, a distraction! (discrete tossing motion)

Well, that would cause maximum chaos.... especially after my story catches up with the start of canon and....

[Door #1] [Door #2] [Door #3]

Remember the last line of the first chapter?

...it's coming soon.

Outlined the next arc, just gotta flesh out more than (event) happens to (Character) except (complication)

 

[Biigoh]

Oh hi, Sophia... XD

 

[jrbless]

I count what I'm about to say as being very unlikely. Sophia is bored of picking on Taylor and only continues because Emma expects it. To end her boredom, Sophia wants Butterfly to attack Emma. If Emma doesn't fight back, Sophia drops Emma as a friend and begins ignoring Taylor. If Emma does fight back, Sophia convinces Emma to leave Taylor alone because Emma is strong on her own. The only reason I thought of this is because Sophia rescuing Emma happened before she joined the Wards.

A more likely option is that Sophia wants to hire Butterfly to find the Undersiders' base so she can settle her grudge with Grue.

 

[Visual Pun]

Spilling the beans here a little.... (a QQ 'exclusive! Until I copy & paste it somewhere else, that is...)

The chapter title 'Gaiatsu', meaning outside pressure, is something that each character in this chapter exerts on another character (or group) in this chapter, while at the same time is exerted upon by another character.

An example is Sophia getting the tick removed/absorbed by Panacea is then able to act against Taylor again, but is stopped when outside influence (members of the Track Team) arrive and force her hand Sophia in a way she doesn't want.

But living up to this fics' ethos of 'Decide how would this be handled in Canon? Then how in most fanfics? Then write something different.'

What IS in my notes is Shadow Stalker hires Butterfly to take down (SPOILER)... If Canon, this would be Grue. In most fanfics this would be... Hmm, most fanfics wouldn't tie themselves into a gordian knot like this, would they?

Copied from the SpaceBattles thread --> The tricky part now is doing what I want to do next with the minimum amount of confusion for readers.

The characters will be plenty confused, though.

There's an inspirational quote I wrote down in my ratty old notebook near the start of this story:

History is shaped by the choices you make when you don't have enough information, and the second chances you get to remake those choices.

 

[Visual Pun]

Interlude: Squealer

Squealer luxuriated in the afterglow of a late night celebration with Skidmark at 'counting coup' on another Tinker, even if it was just "Armsmaster Junior". The light breeze across her sweaty, naked body felt good. The box fan which provided the breeze wasn't even plugged in and gave off a faint blue glow where Skidmark had laid down just one layer of force on the blades almost a year ago last summer. Even while stationary, air accelerated off the blades as if they were turning. She had only plugged it in that week it got over 100, but it turned their bedroom into a wind tunnel even on low. The false dawn in the east grew as she triggered armored shutters which doubled as blackout curtains to close and she drifted off to sleep.

It was wake and bake as usual in the early afternoon, better than the hair of the dog that bit you was the craving-crushing first drag of the day. It had been true with cigarettes, and just that much better, in her opinion, when the tabaccy was wacky.

"G'mornin' babe," Alan said as he motioned for Sherrel to pass the pipe.

"I recruited a couple of decent greasemonkeys last night, the usual number of posers, though." Sherrel took back the pipe and inhaled, the illicit pharmaceuticals nicely altered her brain chemistry and she continued, "Oh, hey. That bug Master actually called back. I'll need a couple of grand to throw her way. Got me a present to open later."

Alan exhaled a huge cloud of smoke from his lungs then said, "Hey, it's a cape that's not trying to attack us. Let's be all nice like so she sees what the fuck the Merchants can really do."

He rose from the bed and kicked on a pair of well worn jeans. "I wonder if bug venom would make for a good trip...?"

Sherrel cautioned, "Let's not have a repeat of the banana peel incident, okay hun?"

He snickered at the memory and shrugged on the rest of his clothing then left to tackle the business of the day. Or until something pissed him off enough to arrange an attack in retaliation by the Merchants, that is. Or if he got too blitzed out sampling the latest shipment to do anything useful afterward.

Behind his mask, Skidmark knew everyone thought the Merchants would probably... Not exactly fall apart, but stop functioning if you removed capes like him, Squealer and Mush from the equation. Oh, it would probably get going again, but not for a good long time they would think to themselves, seeing as it's unstructured and probably have no, or very little, paperwork telling of their holdings, money, traders etc. Which means that whoever takes over would have to start over from scratch.

But he smirked since he knew it was all a smokescreen. Look at the shiny distracting capes while the street people picked your metaphorical pocket. Enough junkies just kept circling the drain and yet had enough longevity to never fell all the way into the depths of addiction to keep an institutional memory going. The betting action on Police Department schedules and Protectorate cape patrols was so refined through practice that only Endbringer casualties or big cop fatalities really threw it off. Even then everyone knew the long odds against Armsmaster, one of the original Wards, was a suckers bet.

Otherwise, planned obsolescence was the key. Distribution not going the way it should? Cash flow from a certain neighborhood turned up a little too light on a regular basis? Hook someone else with the skills needed to keep the enterprise going, make 'em train underlings to do their job as they descended deeper into addiction and then there are multiples able to handle the job when they eventually ran themselves into the ground. Funny how folks thought Merchants would grab just anyone. It wasn't just addicting people for kicks, but the right kid of an accountant here or the wife of a long haul trucker there and the administration of the Merchants kept on turning. Delegation via drug addiction; an equilibrium in chaos, but it worked.

Now that Skidmark had left for the day to lean on the appropriate underlings who actually did the amorphous organization behind the Merchants, Sherrel had no more distractions. The imminent Tinker frenzy which tempted her to examine Kid Win's pistol safe under stealth field and reverse engineer whatever she could. Sherrel had started taking drugs to blot out the incessant dreams of building vehicles of aircraft carrier size and larger, only to have a lack of good supplies eternally be her foil and ground her in reality. If only her creations could hold together under the increased strain. It was the story of her life, can't get the quality materials she needs, but can overbuild it to make up for any shortages. Then she'd inevitably run out of whatever she was using as a substitution or need to adjust for the increased mass and have to scale down her ambitions.

Sherrel unlocked a safe and studied Kid Win's hard light pistol. Too bad she couldn't get her hands on that hoverboard, but it just stuck to his back armor like it was nailed there. She disabled the tracker, so at least she could now carry it out of the Stealth Field. The damn thing was harder to crack open than she'd thought. Her mind flooded with technical inspiration as she recognized capacitors there, a step-up transformer, plasma coils, hard light maser focusing array, and recursive attenuation emitters to prevent heat bloom and increase range. With all the efficiencies and miniaturization this thing practically had Armsmaster's fingerprints all over it. IFF interlock for visor targeting. Removable power cell... huh. No locking mechanism or latch to prevent it falling out. Then how did the thing say in there?

For that matter, how did any of the components stay in place? There were no screws or retaining clips as far as she could see. When Sherrel had to pry the casing open, the battery should have just fallen out, but it hadn't. Closer inspection revealed little induction channels engraved on both edges where it snapped into place. She re-examined the hard light pistol and a similar engraved induction network held all the components in place, very few screws or bolts except through insulating elements. That was what really sparked her interest... a low level structural integrity system aligned and locked the electron valences of separate parts to make the whole thing behave as if it were one piece instead of merely a system of modular components. The modularity thing wouldn't work on one of her vehicles, but they way they attached together and became a strong integrated whole would greatly increase the durability of her designs.

She removed a paper thin panel of conductive plastic which bent slightly under its own weight as she held it aloft with tweezers. But placed back where it belonged and it was as rock solid as cast iron. No engraving adorned the panel, so the effect was contiguous through the material itself.

Sherrel grinned wider than she had in ages. She could copy this structural integrity system and use it to offset the ever present materials deficiencies she was forced to overbuild to handle. Multiple assemblies could combine to make a larger vehicle and it would be stronger than the sum of its parts, the integrated joins as robust as the armored panel right next to it. But in order to scale it up and increase power to a level where it was effectively a stiffening force field conducted throughout the vehicle frame would be a massive energy suck. That new helicopter engine might run it for a while, but even with the structural integrity boost to keep the turbine blades from self-shattering the compression of the airflow would have to be enormously increased...

Sherrel's gaze fell on the blue glow of the box fan and she became paralyzed by the possibilities as her power shifted into overdrive.

Author's Note:

Spoiler

More inclusion of thoughts from comment threads by etincelle047 - webxro - rollobeast - Jetsmillion, and anyone I forgot to drag and drop here as inspiration to answer the questions of how the Merchants are still a force to be reckoned with in Brockton Bay, even being the lowlifes that they are.

 

[Chojomeka]

It's scary what they could do if they were sober and had the resources.

 

[Biigoh]

Doh ho ho ho ho! Competent Squealer and Skidmark. A rarity!

 

[jrbless]

Skidmark could make handguns hit so much harder than they should. All he has to do is put his fields inside the barrel. Or he could make an awesome potato gun

 

[Visual Pun]

I'm taking liberties with Skidmark's power.

In Canon, and most fanfics he always dispelled his ability. I'm not sure if it would fade over time, so I decided to give it a more permanent aspect.

Plus I wasn't sure how many zones of force he could maintain, so his Shard is going to have to work overtime in my fic.

But think of all the data it will be able to collect...

 

[macdjord]

Skidmark could make handguns hit so much harder than they should. All he has to do is put his fields inside the barrel. Or he could make an awesome potato gun

Click to shrink...

A bullet accelerates down the barrel of a gun at 10s of thousands of Gs. In order to significantly affect the speed of a bullet, Skidmark would have to generate a field of comparable intensity. If he could do that, then he wouldn't be walking around throwing people into walls - he'd be throwing them through walls, and out the other side. A 200 lbs human body flying at the speed of a bullet does just as much damage as a 200 lbs cannonball. You know what a weapon firing 200 lbs cannonballs is called? Siege artillery.

 

[Ack]

One little tiny nitpick. Skidmark's name is Adam, not Alan. (Adam Mustain, that is).

The only Alan's named in canon IIRC are Alan Barnes and Alan Gramme (Emma's dad and Mannequin, respectively).