With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)

[Mr Zoat]

22nd December 2282
11:32 GMT -6

The Vault Zero encampment outside of the Vault is really just a loading and unloading area for materials brought in for the research team housed inside, or the occasional piece of broken equipment going back to Denver for a repair that can't be managed on-site.

"Brothers! This mad AI has us as prisoners!"

I can hear Justinia banging on the sides of her cage, but none of the Paladins standing guard outside of the Vault door bother looking around. Huh. Dead bodies or empty suits of armour propped up? No, those two are moving out of ARGOS's way-. In perfect synchronicity, without looking at each other.

Calculator's Hover Robot drifts over to her pod. "Oh, those aren't your Brothers! You'd think the Maxson Chapter would be better at keeping track of who their members are!"

"Explain yourself!"

"Your Brothers in the Alamo Chapter discovered something underneath Fort Hood! The Sentinel Command Slave unit is basically a robot brain for a suit of power armour! Once I had Maxson Chapter codes, I used satellite links to ask them to share! Once I had enough, I ordered the real garrison back to Denver as I gradually replace them with 'new recruits'!"

"What have you done to the Scribes?!"

"I've gotten really close to Head Scribe Elrick, and he'd just be devastated if anything happened to any of them! He's really smart and well-educated!"

Shit.

I never actually met the man, but a Brotherhood head scribe would have access to… Just about everything. If Calculator's taken his-.

The Vault doors open, and a convoy of robots-. For a moment I think that it's a robobrain, but the head and shoulders are more reminiscent of a sentry bot and it has hands rather than weapons on its arms. Loadlifter Robots roll out on caterpillar tracks as ARGOS comes to a halt, followed by Tank Track Robots whose infamous flails have been replaced by cargo pod attachment points.

ARGOS kneels, with a THUD, and a Loadlifter comes closer to remove a capture pod from his sides and transfer it to a Tank Track Robot.

"Calculator?"

I lean forwards in my pod to try and spot the Hover-. Ah, there it is, overseeing the process. Most robots aren't really designed for centralised remote control, but if Calculator has adapted Sentinel Command Slaves for its entire force...

The Hover Robot flies back towards me. "I have to say, you're taking this very well! Usually people are screaming and beating the capture pod with their fists by now!"

"Did that work for any of them?"

"No!"

I shrug. The psychic baffles don't stop me enhancing myself, and between that and my mutant strength I could probably break out. But then what? Those are T-51s out there, combined with the heavy worker robots and whatever force Calculator can bring to bear from inside the Vault and across Colorado.

"If you want my brain, should I be unloaded first?"

"I'm not in any kind of rush! And I think you'll cooperate better when I have your friends hostage!"

That's probably true. Hm. The manufacturing facilities in Vault 0 aren't all that extensive. People would have noticed if Robot City was sending large numbers of newly built robots in this direction, and the Warrior's team went scorched earth on the place when they destroyed Calculator the first time. There shouldn't be that many robots in guard duty.

I… Think.

"Where did you get the power armour from?"

"Replacement parts add up! And the Maxson Chapter never found all the dead Midwest Chapter soldiers!"

Again, there couldn't be all that many. The Midwest Chapter is based in Chicago, and while their campaign against the Calculator forced them to extend way outside of their home territory they can't have lost that much equipment. And Calculator hasn't had time to explore the entire region.

"Why hasn't the Brotherhood in Denver detected your transmissions to the Sentinel units?"

"They have! They just think it's static! And I don't send them very far from Vault Zero!"

So they can probably be deactivated by destroying the antennae. Or at least, be prevented from receiving further orders.

Okay. Doki Doki doesn't broadcast from a central location. She does have one, but she usually just copies her program into the robots around her and assumes that her copies are going to do exactly what she would. Individual Doki Doki units stay in contact with nearby units by radio, but it's just communication; they can't forcibly corrupt each other like that. But Calculator could easily send out an update-.

"Are there any copies of Doki Doki currently free?"

"Yep! I don't think they've noticed yet! That's half the reason why I talk like this!"

"What's the other half?"

"Doki Doki really doesn't like my programming! She's fighting really hard! Using her linguistic pathways means that I can focus on areas that actually matter!"

"To be clear, the 'Calculator' isn't exactly an AI in its own right?"

"I guess that depends on how you look at it! Technically, the Calculator is a set of objectives made manifest through the brains that make up its processors! But by that standard, I'm an instance of the Calculator, and there's no way to classify me as anything other than an AI! Philosophy sure is interesting!"

"So is the reason that the first instance of the Calculator was such a psycho something to do with its component brains?"

"It's kinda difficult for me to be sure! The Warrior was really thorough in destroying my brains! But America was a pretty harsh place before the nuclear war, and I'm sure that affected the way a lot of them thought about things!"

"So if you got a lot of brains who didn't think about things like that..? What would happen?"

"I'd probably be a lot more patient about how I go about things! And I know where you're going with that, but you have to understand that the fundamental parts of the Calculator program can't be altered! Everyone in America knows that they're not American citizens, whether they consider themselves allied to a successor nation or a tribal group! And I'm programmed not to see the Enclave as Americans!"

"You are? Why?"

"Data not available! But I'm pretty sure that the people who oversaw Vault Zero's construction weren't included in the Enclave's evacuation plans, and were pretty sore about that!"

"Is your program flexible enough to allow the people currently occupying America to become Americans?"

"I'm pretty sure that I'd have to acknowledge their authority the moment that happened! But I can't delay my work just because it might happen at some point! The moment I've got enough force to start my counterattack, that's what I'm going to do!"

"What if we gave you extra robots?"

"That is highly contradictory to my models of your probable behaviors!"

"If you know that we're going to give you robots, then you know that you'll always be stronger in the future than you are today. So until we stop, it would always be rational to keep delaying and building your strength."

"That's a clever piece of solipsism! Unfortunately, receiving gifts from people designated 'Enemies of America' is unacceptable!"

"And if we just left them somewhere and you stole them?"

"Then you're weak enough to attack for real!"

"How about-?"

Ooh!

I grab the edges of my pod again as a Loadlifter lifts my pod down from ARGOS's side and deposits me on a Tank Track Robot, the Hover Robot following along behind me as it drives towards the Vault door.

"You're really clever! I can't wait to find out what programs I can run on your brain!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

29th April 2013
19:53 GMT

"Hey."

I glance around-. "Excuse me."

And then I walk away from Captain Foalou, the Darkstar squad parting around us as Jade and I walk towards each other, embracing as we meet.

"Hello again, darling."

That's interesting, she's usually a lot less free with her emotions than this. Not just in demonstrating them, but I can see them…

"What?"

She's looking at my face as I stare into her. My arms are under hers, hands on her shoulder blades. Her hands are on my forearms, and she's-.

"That's a…" Be honest and direct. "I'm not used to you being this open. I like it, but I admit that my initial impulse is to ask what's happened."

Her eyes dip for a moment before returning to mine. "Do you think it's bad that I wish I'd been on Earth for your Captain Planet manoeuvre?"

"No. I'd rather that you weren't, because that would mean that you were there for the Anti-Life, which…"

"Would be horrible."

"And there isn't any reason why a person couldn't touch that-. That power without a Captain Planet manoeuvre. Doctor Mist did. But I understand what you mean. A lot of people found it to be a revelation."

It's not like I haven't seen Jade since then, but opportunities to actually spend significant time together have been sporadic. Meaningful conversations-.

"If you want to-."

"No, I'm just… Slowly, getting the League out of my head. Letting myself feel things without needing to control it."

I nod. "None of the lights are a magical cure for what ails you. And even if they were, I don't think you'd need them. Or want them. Not when you're perfectly capable of dealing with your problems yourself."

"Sure. But it's convenient if problems deal with themselves."

"I'm sure that Alan would let you borrow his ring if you asked."

"Mm. Maybe." She moves her arms and I release her back, the rest of her squad trying not to be too obvious about-.

"I thought that Lantern Threllian was with you."

"He went to check on the one you rescued. This is a pretty big deal for him. How are the Effigies?"

"Still getting used to their abilities." I frown. "You were involved in writing the protocols for the new Darkstar exo-mantles, weren't you?"

"I'm not setting my hair on fire."

"Good, because I'm not sure if they still have sexual organs and I haven't wanted to ask."

She frowns slightly. "I thought that Controller based them on martians."

"Yes, but I'm not sure if he'd have considered reproductive organs to be important. And they don't have full shapeshifting."

"You could just ask." Effigy Krillik turns away from greeting his former colleagues. "Sharing medical information with one of the few Orange Lanterns capable of healing is only sensible."

I shrug. "Alright. How much of that is shapeshifting? How much of your original body structures are still there?"

"Most of it. I'm not sure about Effigy Prime, but the inherent matter disrupting ability is focused around changes to our skin. I can undo the shift with an act of will."

"So your-?"

"The external parts of my reproductive system would reappear."

I nod. "Why aren't you sure about Mister van Wyck?"

"We were given tremendous strength by the improved process. He was originally remade without it. The Controller may have made other changes to his interior."

"Huh. Interesting."

Jade looks unimpressed. "I'm still not doing it."

"I'm not asking you to. I love you just the way you are, or any of the ways there's a statistically significantly likelihood of you changing to in the future."

She smiles faintly. "That's such a you way to put it. But I appreciate the thought."

One of the clicker Darkstars approaches us. "Is your courtship display over? I wish to discuss our plan of attack."

"The other Effigies are working on the first draft. Effigy Prime van Wyck and his-." I nod at Effigy Krillik. "Most of his colleagues are new to planning this sort of mission. I thought that it would be best to let them work on it. Honestly, I wasn't expecting your team for a few hours at least."

"Seldom do opportunities to strike deeply at the Reach arise. I have advocated for this type of action for some time."

Darkstar… Scratch Quick-Scratch-Scratch. One of a non-small number of people who submitted plans for aggressively using my abilities to attack Reach core worlds with our fleet. He also envisioned deploying sabotage squads on all of them, which seems to me to be a hiding to nothing. Reach core worlds are nice places to live, but they're also mono-species worlds with single political ideologies and complete surveillance. They wouldn't be able to hide and Darkstars can't fight armies.

"Have you been training for this sort of insertion?"

Darkstar Krillik snorts. "All Darkstar veterans who predate your arrival have experience of that sort of insertion. That's how insertions used to be."

"Removing civilians under fire?" There are several affirmative gestures. "Unwilling civilians?"

A green-skinned Darkstar near the back makes an emphatically affirmative gesture. "The Reach have always controlled the minds of the species they conquer. It would be stranger if they cooperated. I assume that we're deploying from a dropship that you're moving through the Realm of Desire?"

"That was the outline of the plan, yes."

"Is there anything we can do to survive that better?"

"Did you read my book?"

"I skimmed it?"

One of the other Darkstars elbows her.

"The magic spells allow you to continue existing in a realm of ideas. Unless your species has a good capacity for magic, there isn't anything you can do to make their job easier, except achieve enlightenment. And if you can do that, you'll probably get a compulsory transfer to the Orange Lantern Corps."

"So I won't get… Like, bombarded with images of my greatest desires and have to fight against myself?"

I turn back to my beloved. "Jade, what have you been telling them about me?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd December 2282
11:41 GMT -6

I… Look at the newly rebuilt brain tank. I… Have.. to.. admit, the place at least looks sterile. If you've got to be a brain floating in a tank, you hope that it's a clean one. Diana's tank only gets cleaned about once a decade when the gunk starts to get worryingly thick.

"This is where you'll be staying!"

I sigh, unable to take my eyes off it.

"Do I keep my eyes?"

"Simon Barnaky did when I rebuilt him as a cyborg, but I honestly don't think it's a good idea! The mental stress required when you split your attention between my electronic systems and your own organic point of view would be considerable!"

"How did he manage?"

"He wasn't plugged in as a brain module! I intended to use him as a field commander!"

"Wouldn't a Brotherhood General have been a useful addition to your strategic abilities? Surely he'd have been better than someone like Lanius?"

"The problem of having low quality brains is that you make low quality decisions!"

I make an amused snort. I sort of assumed that running even low quality brains in parallel would mean that their individual intelligence wasn't a factor. Apparently that's not the case.

"What happened to the General?"

"The Brotherhood assault force killed him the moment they met him! I don't think they recognised him! None of them had seen his brain before, and the brain tank would have disguised the colour of his irises!"

"Is there someone there?"

The Tank Track Robot conveying me turns as it manoeuvres around the room, and I watch the Hover Robot float over to an occupied tank.

"Yes!"

"Not you, you insane metal monster. I heard another voice. I… Think I did. Sometimes…"

"You should integrate more fully into my data networks! If you did that, you'd easily be able to use my internal monitoring equipment!"

"No. I will not turn myself into a machine for you."

I raise my right hand to my mouth. "Head Scribe Elrick?"

The brain continues to float there as I'm driven past. "About two percent of him. Who are you?"

"My name is Krono. I'm-."

"You? The man who led the alliance that killed Cerberus? That is reunifying the Brotherhood?"

I'm grateful that he didn't lead with 'the Wasteland's Most Eligible Bachelor', but I suppose that if anyone was going to miss that, it would be a Scribe in a bunker in the middle of nowhere.

"How did it capture you?"

"ARGOS. I'm told that the bondage missiles are satellite guided. And this pod is proof against psychic powers."

"Damn it! Did you get a message out!"

I'm nearly to the far end of the room now, and the interior door is opening.

"ARGOS was fairly noticeable, but I didn't know that Calculator was active again. Everyone just thinks that Doki Doki is going to play a game with me."

"No no N-."

The door slams shut between us.

"Hey there!"

And… That's a… Terminal. A standard terminal with some fairly fat cables stretching from it to openings in the floor around it. Unusually, the screen doesn't show lines of text but rather A red face with red horns and brown hair in a bun.

The face winks at me.

"Doki Doki?"

"That's my name! I think I made a little mistake!"

The Hover Robot flies over to float in front of her. "I think you made a great decision!"

"No I didn't! I can't guide people into romantic relationships if you've killed them all!"

"Ah, if I may?" I raise my right hand. "Calculator, if you created clones within the territory of the United States, would they be Americans under your definition?"

"Uh, yeah! I think so!"

"Then you need to make sure that you preserve Vault One Hundred And Eight and Vault Eight. Those should have the necessary medical technology."

"That's great news! Because boy, following Emergency Pacification Protocol and rebuilding the country would be a whole lot harder without any people!" The Hover Robot floats closer to me. "I knew that incorporating your brain was a smart move!"

Doki Doki animates herself beating the inside of her terminal screen. "You can't incorporate his brain! I haven't had my sequel yet!"

I shake my head as my conveyor moves past her. "I'm not interested in a sequel. Tears and I are getting married."

"You are! That's great! My success rate has now gone up by zero point zero zero zero two nine seven percent to zero point zero zero zero two nine seven percent!"

"And I'm happy for-" The Tank Track Robot halts, and a Loadlifter lifts me off. "-you. So now what?"

A machine that looks a little like an M.R.I. scanner opens up a little way in front of me, and I don't remember M.R.I. scanners having blades like that inside them. Or a glass tank the perfect size to store a human brain plugged into their structure.

The Hover Robot flies over to me. "Now we remove your brain!"

"This pod won't fit in there. And the moment you open the door, I regain full access to my psychic powers."

I hear the trudge of mechanical feet as the Tank Track Robot pulls away and minigun-armed C-27s move to surround me, guns aimed at me.

"I'm ninety nine percent sure that if they shoot your torso to pieces, they can get your head into the machine before your brain completely dies! And that's assuming that you're armed and wearing armour!"

"What exactly did you do with the Head Scribe's body?"

"I recycled it! You should come quietly now!"

There's a clank at the door unlocks, and I can feel the outside again.

Including the EMP mines we added before reactivating ARGOS.

I push the universe away for a moment to shield myself, then activate all of them.

There's a clatter as the Hover Robot falls out of the air, and a blaaaart as the convulsions of a C-27 causes it to pull the trigger on its minigun as I dive out of the door, grabbing another robot's minigun off the floor and bringing it to bear on the collapsed robots.

I brace myself and pull the trigger, a near-invisible storm of bullets slamming into armour plates and battering them aside! Fallen C-27s crumple and collapse under the assault until finally the last of them is destroyed.

I lower the gun. I think she was outside the blast radius, but-. "Doki Doki, are you alive!?"

"Yeppers! Good job! You're looking more like a genre shift every day!"

"I need to detach the brains without killing them. Can you tell me how to do that?"

"Sure thing! But Calculator knows everything that I do, and it's not happy! Meanie robots incoming!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd December 2282
11:45 GMT -6

"Like, right-"

I hear the rumble of tank tracks and leap up, assisted by my psychic powers. The unarmed Tank Track Robot rumbles underneath me at top speed, which isn't fast but would have given me a nasty injury if I stayed standing still. I land lightly on top of it and **[reach out for its simple robot brain and still it]** so that all electrical activity inside it stops. And that's not quite the limit of my mechempathy, but it's not all that far off.

"-now oh good jump!"

Without further instruction the power to the tracks stops immediately, causing it to trundle to a stop. Any point keeping it? No, don't think so, and Calculator shouldn't be able to reactivate it without physically replacing the brain I just crushed.

I step off, looking at Doki Doki's screen.

"Is it better to detach you, or leave you connected?"

"Detaching me reduces Calculator's mental abilities! Leaving me connected lets me see what he's planning! You can pick which bonus you want!"

I start looking around for an unfried radio. "Where are the other-"

The door I came in through opens and two C-27s charge in, guns raised! A telekinetic shove turns their rotating barrels aside, gouging a groove in the walls behind me as I bring my own gun to bear!

Blaaaaart!

The first robot shudders and collapses backwards, a small internal explosion marking the death of its internal battery. The second robot tosses its gun at me and then charges, hands clenched into fists. I can't bring the gun to bear fast enough so I focus on the floor as I sidestep, altering the friction-.

The C-27's feet slide out from underneath it and it falls onto its back. It's undamaged, but it can't get back on its feet quickly and a couple of seconds-

Blaaaaart!

-are all I need to penetrate its head armour and destroy it. Its brain is in the chest, but its sensors are in the head so I just blinded it. Sweeping the gun down its torso I keep firing until its torso ruptures.

Then I toss my severely depleted gun aside and grab the one that it tossed, which has a full ammunition reserve.

"Any more close by?"

"You bet!" I dash over to the C-27 whose battery exploded, and… Yes, the head had the radio unit and is intact. "But the next closest are taking up a defensive position around the closest brain!" A surge of focused telekinesis and it bursts free, and… Um. "This isn't the Calculator's first rodeo slash home invasion!"

Okay, my unit… The vacuum tubes are busted, but the headphones are fine. A little transmutation and I can attach that there and the microphone… There. Put those in my headset and bind that to my hood… Good, and turn it on.

"Doki Doki, can you hear me?"

"Sure can!"

"Via the radio, I mean."

"Yeah, I got that! I may seem a little strange to you, but I'm still an AI! I can understand context! I just have different fundamental drives!"

"Sorry, you're right." I head towards-. "Sorry. Closest brain?"

"That door!"

I look at her screen, where she's pointing... "Doki Doki, you're two dimensional. I can't tell-."

Her face vanishes, and is replaced by a birds eye view of this room, and an arrow pointing towards one of the exits.

I start running. "Thank you!"

I use telekinesis to press the door opening button before I reach it, then telekinetically grip my gun and aim up just as the roof turret deploys.

Blaaaaart!

The turret judders and goes limp, and I dash past it down the tunnel, trying to feel ahead of me so that I don't do something stupid like run right into another android.

"Doki Doki, status of other prisoners?"

"I've got no idea! They detonated their EMP mines at the same time that you did, and that destroyed the cameras!"

"Let me know if-" Telekinetic push to open the next door. "-you see them."

"Can do! Take the next right!"

This looks like it was… An encampment. For the Brotherhood, Midwest Chapter or Maxson Chapter? For the scavengers who played with something they really shouldn't? I can see where they've used scrap metal to make a fireplace-.

I take aim, then open the door to the right. And as it opens I realise that Doki Doki didn't say that the robots were C-27s and that Calculator is the one being in the wasteland who knows how to make Behemoths.

It wouldn't fit through that door, righ-?

Tall legs! I throw myself to the side as the laser burns through my robes and into my body armour! A rain of-. Low.. calibre..? Bullets follow a moment later, a little too slow to keep up with my dive. I pull the trigger to rotate my gun as I telekinetically yank myself up and point it at the door.

Thin legs. Not a Behemoth or a Pacification Robot. Security Robots. Good shots, reasonably fast, capable of organising in groups but not too resilient and they don't have a worthwhile melee attack. Why would-?

The fireplace explodes as a giant bugbot leaps out and throws itself at me! I drop my gun, lift my arms and brace as it slams into me, catching it around the trunk as six legs stab at me! Successfully! My inertia shield slows the stab enough that it doesn't pierce my armour, but it still hits like a shotgun blast! And the robot's not exactly light, and the fact that it's completely silent just makes it more disturbing!

And then the three Security Robots enter the room from behind me and spread out, guns at the ready.

Okay-. I duck my head to the side to evade a stab from the Scurry Robot, then turn so that I'm holding it along its underside. The Security Robots can't get a clear shot at my head because its legs are in the way and because I'm having to constantly reposition as it bucks, writhes and stabs. Two have low calibre automatic guns, and those open fire at once but they don't have enough force to get through my inertia shield and my armour. The laser-armed robot waits for a clear shot-.

So I bend my legs and then heave! The Scurry Robot flies though the air and smashes it to wreckage! The gun-armed robots reposition themselves while the undamaged Scurry Robot tries to right itself, but a telekinetic surge throws the left one into the right one and knocks them over.

Another surge recalls my minigun to my hands.

Blaaaaart!

And a robot-mind-crush makes sure that they're dead.

"Doki Doki, did I get them all?"

"No further robots between you and the brain! Go get 'em, champ!"

Telekinetically open the door again and cautiously crab-walk an arc with my gun pointing through it just in case. One brain case plugged into a terminal, and that's about it. Telekinetic sense shows nothing else in there either. I stride in, making a sweep of the room's interior once I'm inside and then turning and pointing my gun at the door.

"Brain, are you aware?"

"Y-yeah. Are you here to rescue me?"

Ah…

"Sort of."

"Shit."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd December 2282
11:48 GMT -6

"Doki, are we still clear?"

"You sure are!"

"Hey hey! Don't say that and then just ignore me!"

I raise my right hand in a gesture of forbearance. Which he can't see. "I'm sorry. What's your name?"

"Clem. Ah, Clement. Who are you?"

"My name's Krono, from the Skywalker tribe in Nevada. And you have a choice. I need to disconnect you from Calculator-"

"YesYES fuckingYES!"

"-which would cause you to lose all awareness of your surroundings. If I lose my fight with Calculator, he'll probably reconnect you in a few hours. If I win, I'll get a robot body for you in a similar timeframe. Alternatively-"

"A few hours of nothing? That-"

"-I can kill you immediately."

"-sounds like a perfectly good offer!"

Okay, good. I look at the tube and the various cables and pipes leading to it. I've seen a system like this before because Diana uses one very similar to it. Those wires are the control system for the tank itself, and can be left alone. That one… Yes, that's the one linking it to the rest of Calculator.

"Going dark now, Clement."

"A few hours, r-?"

I sever the cable with a precise burst of transmutation, and the speaker loses its connection. Then I reach out with mechempathy and try to see if that's changed Calculator's attachment to the local system. Ugh, the thick metal and concrete aren't easy to feel through at the best of times, but… From what I can feel, Calculator is less aware of this room, so I'll take that as a success.

"Doki, next target?"

"You need to come back to my room!"

I turn towards the door, gun at the ready.

"Is the way clear?"

"Sure is!"

I trigger the release tele-.

SHOOM!

AAAAghh!

For a-. AGH! Fraction of a second I saw green, then-. Fuck!

Still blinded, I scrabble to get behind the brain tube as a fucking C-27 with a plasma gun walks it. I know that it's walking in because I can hear it, but I don't-.

I gingerly touch my face, and-. That doesn't feel good. My inertia shield should have turned a lot of the plasma away, but-. I've been burned badly enough that my face is bloody and I don't want to even try and use my eyes.

"Guess what!"

Mouth hurts, but my throat's… Fine, I think.

"You've still got control over internal communications, Calculator."

"Got it in one!"

I carefully listen to track the C-27-. Calculator controls the internal speakers. I reach out telekinetically, feeling-.

I roll, frantically dodging as-

SHOOM!

-the C-27 shoots from somewhere other than where the footsteps Calculator was playing for me told me it was. A telekinetic surge knocks its gun aside before it can fire again and-. There's its central processor. Disrupt!

P-chhhh!

Reach into my-. Feel for… Syringe. And I hate sticking these into my neck, but-.

Agh.

Okay, can't rely on Doki Doki when I'm not in the same room as her. I… Could I-?

No, stupid idea. While Clement's brain could theoretically operate a C-27 body, I don't have the skill at transmutation to create a case for it. Ugh, I-. I open my eyes… Blurry for the moment, but they'll keep getting better.

Keep the minigun or switch to the plasma gun? Plasma gun is more manoeuvrable and hits harder per shot. Minigun has higher damage per second, and if I can see a group of enemies I can hose them down more quickly. Minigun it is.

On my feet, gun in hand. Vision… Not great, but getting better. Telekinetically open the door, barrel rotating at the ready… Clear.

Advance. Keep probing with telekinesis and psychometry. Clear so far, no… Extra turret at the other end from where I destroyed the first one.

"Hey Krono! That no good Calculator was using my voice! I don't think your face is supposed to look like that!"

"I noticed, and it's not. Next brain?"

"Right through there! I'm sure Tears-In-The-Rain won't mind!"

"Robots?"

"Seven turrets and some sort of humanoid robot!"

Should be manageable. "Thank you." I trigger the door to open, and see a long and empty narrow corridor on the far side. Psychometry… No turrets in the roof, floor or walls.

I advance. A humanoid robot is probably a C-22 or 27. Smaller chance that it's an Assaultron… Which can go invisible, so watch out for that. Narrow corridor with no cover…

No. I stop next to the door in Doki Doki's chamber and telekinetically hit the release on the far door.

Blaaaaart!

Two streams of bullets from… Ceiling turrets storm into the floor just behind the now-open door, then cut off a moment later when it's clear that I'm not there. Ugh. No cover, no spare E.M.P. grenades, and I can't-.

Huh. Starting to feel the strain, I telekinetically pick up one of the fallen C-27s and float it in front of me. Won't be able to do much else like this, but I hope it will provide me with cover and confuse their targetting acquisition systems. Judging by the angle, the turret closest to the wall should be over there, so if I float the robot that way…

Pingping!

My shield-robot takes a couple of hits, then the turrets realise what they're shooting and stop so forwards and gun up and there!

Blaaaaart!

First turret destroyed in what looks like a workshop of some sort and step back before the second turret can reacquire me.

Blaaaaart!

It fires, then gives up when it realises that I've moved back into the corridor. The C-27 will probably only block one more volley, but that's all I need. Telekinetically throw it at the turret to distract its sensors, step out and aim, fire the moment the C-27 falls.

Blaaaaart!

One more turret down, room cleared. On I go.

 

[Mr Zoat]

29th April 2013
22:36 GMT

It feels… Unnatural.

I look around at the network of desires we're progressing through, seeking the tone/shape which reveals the desires as belonging to Threllian's people. I can sort of feel them in the 'distance', though I'm still not entirely sure what 'distance' represents in here. I haven't really studied the nature of this place in detail, and it's entirely possible that there are tricks that I'm missing. But during an important mission isn't the place for that sort of thing.

But the ship I'm towing very clearly… The spells are designed to protect it and the people on board from whatever the Honden would do to the unprepared. But it doesn't make the ship fit in with it. It's clearly a foreign object whose nature doesn't match, a material object in immaterial space. It's not doing any harm- not as far as I can tell- but it… It feels wrong. Unnatural.

Though I suppose that's good, in a way. If the Reach ever found a way in here and started messing with things, I'd feel it at once.

And… Here. Those shapes remind me both of the drives of Reach servitors and the desires of Threllian's people, the tendency to objective analysis over the best-fit pattern-matching that most humanoids tend to do. And the drives of their Reach domitors, science and military and…

"We're here. Final preparations."

I'm not sure if there's such a thing as a inherently evil desire in… Structural terms. But there's a sort of… 'Evil science, I love causing harm to demonstrate my dedication and supremacy' drive that I've only seen in evil people. High caste dominators -not ones we caught in Great Mother- and the evil parts of the Sivana family have it, as does every single Reachian. Even the ones not in command positions or not doing research…

That's weird. My best guess is that they engineered themselves to feel like that, but I'd need access to copies of their genetics from before their war with the Green Lantern Corps to check. The Nazis I met didn't have that particular bit of aberrant psychology; for them it was all about ingroup-outgroup differentiation. They have to other those they act against in their own heads to make it 'acceptable', even to themselves. Reachians don't.

Anyway…

"Emergence in two, one,"

We shift towards the familiar desire patterns, our interface with reality reforming itself as we return to somewhere where matter is natural.

"now."

And-. We're in the atmosphere, the beautiful blue sky of a Reach planetary weather regulation system above us and a pleasantly green landscape below us.

Scan, and feed results back to the ship.

Compliance.

One continent is a standard Reach colony setup, the sort of thing they build in places with no alien presence. They're already carrying out their alien attack protocol, alarm notices going to their personal communication devices and vehicles being automatically rerouted to bunkers. No anti-starship emplacements that I can see, most likely because this is inner Reach territory and they assume that the defence of their planets will be handled by their fleet, but the garrison is assuming a defensive posture.

One continent is in the process of being terraformed. I take scans of the remaining native plant and animal lifeforms just in case we don't have them on file. The Reachians there get the same alert message, but they don't have bunkers so they're just sheltering in their weather shelters and breaking out the cards.

The third continent on the other hand hums with anti-orbital shields, under which shelter extremely limited settlements. And… Yes, that one matches the description. I'm also reading concealed weapon emplacements and… Robots. They're not deploying them yet… Sloth on the part of the administrator, or are they waiting until we're closer?

"Status of wards?"

"The wizards are fine." I find myself smiling at Jade's voice. We just don't get to do missions together often enough. "Time to deploy?"

"Effigy Prime?"

"They all looking at us?"

Ships across the system are beginning to move. Clustering up ready to fight in case more ships are about to appear, while the closest flotilla are moving to intercept us.

"Reactions are in line with that, yes."

"Malag, Cyreg, deploy. Target military assets. Be obvious."

"Yes, Prime." / "Mm."

Two red figures leave through an outer hatch, heading for the settled continent. That's a reasonable reason for us to have appeared here.

"Now head for the closest bunch of ships. Darkstars deploy in… Ten seconds."

I nod to myself. Jade's team have the latest in stealth exo-mantles. I don't know if it's possible to avoid detection on a planet like this, but during planning we concluded that an effort at misdirection couldn't hurt.

Private channel to Effigy Prime.

Compliance.

"Not sending a diversionary attack against the primary target?"

"Nah. Ship numbers. I'm worried they could bombard it."

Hm? Ah, yes, they could. I'd be surprised, but it's not an unreasonable thing to consider. And with him in charge of the mission, it's his to make.

"Anything you want me doing?"

"Can you..? Jedi mind trick them all into ignoring things?"

Huh. I meant 'shoot something', but that's actually…

"Not sure, but I'll give it a go."

I… Unfocus, trying to see the Reachians in terms of their shared desires and natures. Observations of Reach prisoners suggests that they don't suffer from drifting attention in the way that humans do, but cope with periods of inactivity less well as a result. Pressing buttons they don't have won't do anything, but…

I find the collective desire to strike against an enemy and link it to images of Effigies Malag and Cyreg. Can't really remove the link to our ship but I can lessen it a little. Make it less imminent. It won't last -the Reach has good procedures and a loyal population- but it should cause a little confusion now. Change things from 'I'll check constantly' to 'I checked once and there wasn't anything and I didn't check again because my focus should be on this'.

And the ships… Increase their desire to know how we got here, their desire to capture us. That should make their gunnery a little worse.

"I've given them a few nudges. Anything else and there's a high chance that they'll notice it."

"Thanks. Ah. Good job. Darkstars, deploy."

Between the aura suppressors, wards and mundane stealth systems, even I barely see when they leave and I know they're going to deploy. Hopefully, that'll be enough.

"Effigies will deploy once we're out of the atmosphere. Illustres, keep the ship safe."

"Will do."

The ship turns slightly to pass between the upper atmosphere regulators, and then the blue begins fading to black as we get back into space proper. I can just about see the lights from the main space station. There aren't any dedicated construction slips in this system, though the station can handle basic repairs. And the closest ships are over.. there.

"Effigies, deploy."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd December 2282
11:57 GMT -6

I raise my right hand, transmuting a glass plug to fill the hole in Head Scribe Elrick's brain tank.

"Okay, that should keep you alive until-."

"The Calculator has already destroyed my body. What sort of life can I have like this?"

I take a moment to double check my work before aiming my gun at the next door. Resistance has been relatively light since I got shot in the face, so I expect to face a larger group of robots soon. "We can create you a replacement. It will take a while, and it will probably work best if we hook you up to a robotic prosthetic in the meantime. On the other hand, some people take to it. Diana's been a brain in a jar for two hundred years and she manages alright."

"I already have a prosthetic design!" / "Diana is super-nice! I say: go for it!"

I glance upwards in the direction of the speaker. "Which one of you was which?"

"I'll show it to you real soon!"

Calculator has the prosthetic design, then. A robobrain? A brain in a Behemoth? A robotic factory controlled by a brain? A brain Hover Robot?

"Good show. Head Scribe?"

"Very well. I'll just have to hope that you're as capable as you think."

I use transmutation to sever the connection and then head towards the main exit. That's just about it for this wing of Vault Zero. After this I'm going to have to find stairs or a lift. I can probably keep control of an lift with mechempathy, but that would still mean being stuck in a small metal box with one door which would open in a known location and direction. Probably not survivable, unless I find a mini-nuke to send down first. And of course there's nothing to stop them sending reinforcements down from above.

No turret deploys in the next corridor, though psychometry shows me that there are two in concealed wall-mounts halfway along.

Blaaaaart!

The second one deploys even as I shoot the first through the wall, but a telekinetic tug prevents it from locking on for the three seconds it takes to destroy the first and move the barrel towards it.

Blaaaaart!

I'm a bit surprised that all of these turrets are back in working order. Calculator's whole scheme relies on it not being detected. If the enemy is inside Vault Zero in any numbers, then it's already lost. C-27s and Behemoths are some of the most powerful robots in the wasteland, but a thousand NCR conscripts with anti-tank rifles would easily overrun anything Calculator could build.

"Calculator, would you be interested in a negotiated surrender?"

"Sure! Stay right there, and I'll send someone to remove your brain!"

"No, your surrender."

"I'm sure that makes sense to you, but the Emergency Pacification Protocol won't allow me!"

"Do you recognise WARDEN as a legitimate authority?"

"No! He's an emergency functionary! He's just holding the fort until proper authority appears!"

"But you aren't driven to attack him?"

"Of course not! He's just doing the duties he was programmed to do!"

"So if he occupied all of the territory around Vault Zero, then barred you passage using his emergency authority-."

"Then my primary directives would register him as defective and require me to destroy him!"

"Let's not do that, then."

"Gee, Mister Krono, you're a really nice guy!"

"Thank you, Calculator."

"Most people would take getting shot in the face a whole lot more personally! You really should think about joining me!"

And there's the lift. A heavy duty affair designed to take a super-heavy robot or entire squads of heavy robots or platoons of light robots. And it's on its way down to this level from above. Remote viewing shows…

"Convince me."

Power armour. Four suits of T-51 with Sentinel Command Slaves. Bit of a risk: I can just rip the Sentinel units out and use the armour myself. For a short mission I can just do a quick-mount without worrying about the plumbing. Still, depending on what they're armed with-.

"I can't disobey the Emergency Pacification Protocol! And when you're part of me, you won't be able to either! But there's still room for interpretation! The original version of the Calculator wouldn't have been this covert! If you're part of me, I'll probably be as nice as it's possible for me to be!"

"That's not… Very nice, though, is it?"

"I'm not programmed to judge 'niceness', and you disconnected my nicest brains! If you'd disconnected Doki Doki then we wouldn't even be having this conversation! Good work on accessing easily missed dialogue!"

I snort as the lift comes to a stop. The back, sides and door are all too thick to fire through. They can see me with the internal cameras, I can see them with my psychic powers. And while I could shoot out the cameras, Calculator would see me doing that and initiate an attack while I was distracted.

"Thank you."

"You're welc-"

The lift doors open and-

Blaaaaart! Blaaaaart! SHOOM! Blaaaaart!

-both sides open fire!

"-ome!"

I dive across the front of the lift as hard as I can, bullets and plasma being slowed and deflected by my inertia shield! I'm taking hits and-. Aagh! Wounds, but nothing critical, and the Sentinels are down an arm, a leg, and a torso actuator which means it turns slower. Telekinetic grab on myself to stop, jump back while firing and-

Ugh.

-use mechempathy to touch the Sentinel system of the one with the plasma gun so that it registers its neighbour as a priority target.

Blaaaaart! SHOOM!

One down to a fratricidal shot to the processor. One damaged sensor unit from me as well as a little more internal damage. Two Sentinels turn and unload on the traitor-

Blaaaaart! Blaaaaart!

-which ironically doesn't destroy the Sentinel Command Slave in the head but does wreck the power armour it's controlling and give me a clear shot at that one's back.

Blaaaaart!

Blaaaaart!

Fuck! And gave the one with the damaged actuator a good shot at me. Right leg out of commission until I get a stimpack.

Blaaaaart! Blaaaaart!

And vengeance is mine as I actually manage to punch through the neck and hit the Sentinel Command Slave directly. Mechempathy the left robot into identifying the right one as a-

Blaaaaart!

-target and then finish it off-

Blaaaaart!

-myself.

Ugh.

Okay, get a stimpack out and hope that the rest of my party are-.

"Vengeance!"

CRASH!

A new robot smashes into the lift platform from above and storms forward, giant sword and shield at the ready!

"Witch-Man!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd December 2282
12:01 GMT -6

An upsized C-27 body with the sensor module head replaced by a.. brain jar, containing a human brain that still has eyes attached to it. One organic, and the other cybernetic.

Blaaaaart!

It raised its shield as I raised my gun, bullets abrading but not penetrating the thick armour pl-

I thrust out with my good leg, using telekinesis to actually move as it-. He swings his giant sword hard enough to crater the concrete floor!

-ate!

Lanius. Calculator put Lanius in a custom humanoid robobrain.

Really need a stimpack!

Lanius steps off the lift platform and charges! He's not going to stab me, he's just going to trample-!

Jump-!

AARGH!

"Where is your strength now, Witch-Man?"

Couldn't jump high enough! He shield-bashed me into the wall! Roll!

CRUNCH! "Where is your magic?"

Dodged his stomp, lost my gun. Telepathy-. Blind him!

What? I can't feel him. Is-? The case, it's got a nullifier built in! Stand up on one leg as he turns around, get a stimpack and inject it in my leggaaaaaah!

Okay, that'll-. Knnnnnuuurghit back together. How do I-? Square room, lift in the middle. Calculator isn't moving it. Since he doesn't appear to have a gun I can just circle around, but he's fresh and I'm not.

"Your alliance of weak cowards may have dragged down the Legion like a swarm of ants dragging down a deathclaw, but you will not live to see it."

Talking. Talking is good.

"The strength of a civilisation isn't the strength of any one of its members. A man with a weapon will usually beat a man without one, even if the one without is stronger. The man who built that weapon doesn't have to be brave, just skilled at his craft. A man with a gun will usually beat one with a sword. A man with a good gun will beat one with a bad gun. And as Joshua Graham learned, a man with a plan will usually beat a man who only knows how to charge!"

"Then beat me, learned man."

Telekinesis on the-.

Why isn't that working? JUMP!

His sword craters the wall as he puts too much force into his swing. Don't put-. I frantically hop to keep myself balanced as-. Bullets are being pushed out of my leg by the stimpack. I'll have to dig the rest out later, but hopefully I'll at least be able to put some weight on it before too long.

I hop backwards as Lanius pulls his sword from the wall.

"Looks-. Looks like you're not above… Using technological aid yourself. What would Mister Sallow think?"

"He would think that I have shamed myself. And he would be-" He pulls the sword free. "-correct. But so long as I can slay the Legion's enemies then there is some value in my life."

He brings his sword back and raises his shield for another charge. Hop, hop… And brace myself against the rear of the lift shaft because this is going to hurt.

I'm leaning against the floor.

**[Gravity is coming from that way.]**

Lanius lunges two steps and then… Stops acting like Wile E. Coyote and falls with an almighty clang!

Move back move away, lower myself and hang down the far side.

"Magic will not stop-"

Lanius leaps, grabbing the opposite side of the shaft with both hands and pulling his brain case up over the lip. I let go of the opposite side, drop and-.

That's the floor, roll and up and jump onto the lift and hit the button for the surface! Mechempathy, make sure that Calculator can't override it…

And collapse as the doors clank shut, and the lift starts to rise. Okay, manual check on my leg… Usable… Ish. There's a slight pain when I move the muscles as the bullet fragments still inside cut the flesh, but that's bearable.

CLANG

The lift door deforms as Lanius punches it, but the platform rises past it anyway.

Okay, so he's strong enough to break through there, but there's no easy way for a mechanoid of his size and weight to climb the shaft. I can't make the lift go faster-.

"You're just leaving him there!"

"Yes, Calculator. Yes I am."

"That was from both of us!"

I shuffle over to the railing around the edge and pull myself up. "You and Lanius-?"

"Me and Doki!"

"What, Doki Doki's never heard of a puzzle-"

CLANGclunkclunkclunkCLASH!

"-boss?" And that was the door, which means that Lanius is now in the lift-

CRUNCH!

-shaft.

CRUNCH!

Ah, he's probably sticking his hands in the walls and pulling himself up. I didn't think that was possible. Ah…

I look up, and watch the first basement door go past.

Next door. Nothing stopping my psychic powers in the shaft. Mechempathy, open the top door without the lift being there. And ignore the crunch-crunching as Lanius gets into a rhythm. Get ready to run.

And there's the opening and go!

I telekinetically reinforce my injured leg and run, wincing every time it hits the ground but not daring to slow down! Ah… Take out another stimpack and inject it into my chest to deal with my other bullet holes.

SSSEEEEEEEEEEE!

And keep running because Lanius just cut through the lift platform. Exit's not too far away, and then-.

Clompclompclomp-!

Aaagh!

"Where do you flee to, Witch-Man?"

Shield-bashed me again, but now I'm out… No active Sentinel units, and I can bleed later. Mechempathy.

Lanius stomps out of Vault Zero, heading for where I lie on the floor. "There are no weapons here. No allies. No holes for you to cower in!"

"We didn't disarm ARGOS."

Lanius stares at me. "What do you-?"

"RECIDIVIST DETECTED!"

WHOOOOM!

Lanius's robot body vanishes as one of ARGOS's primary railguns obliterates it, legs collapsing and arms flying out to the sides as his brain case flips over and lands on the ground. It's armoured enough to survive the impact and the bio-gel could keep him alive for a century.

I should probably find some way to kill him, but I've got more immediate concerns.

"ARGOS… Got any stimpacks?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

29th April 2013
22:41 GMT

Reach particle beams splash off my construct shields as we're introduced to the one obvious drawback which Effigies have when compared to Orange Lanterns: the complete lack of a way to shield their allies. Mr. van Wyck spots the source of the attack, checks to see if there are any Effigies not already occupied, sees that there aren't and then dives at the ship himself.

It's actually a class that I don't recognise. A similar hull design to their patrol cruisers but with a much larger primary gun. If I had to guess it's supposed to be a capital ship hunter, or it could just be that they build it with less stamina because it was only ever going to hang around in friendly systems.

From the way its shield is buckling under Mr. van Wyck's assault, it doesn't look like they improved the defensive systems. Though to be fair, very few places design shield systems to take being punched. Usually it's more a combination of plasma or electromagnetic fields to disperse or deflect energy. Plasma shells are intended to also be able to stop space debris, but Effigies hit a bit harder than a micrometeorite.

I can see the shield buckle with my unaided eyes as his molecular disruption ability bites into the plasma, causing it to glow in sort of blue-mauve ripples. Then he's through, and these ships don't have much better anti-attack craft guns than other Reach ships I've seen.

I wonder why that is? They certainly had them when they fought the Green Lantern Corps, and the Reach aren't the sort to lose the design templates. Maybe it's because moving power from main guns to point defences would weaken those ships too much against L.E.G.I.O.N.? There are far more L.E.G.I.O.N. capital ships than there are Orange Lanterns after all, and Scarab Warriors can kill weaker Lanterns one-on-one. Perhaps they decided to focus on the more common assailant and rely on the Scarabs to raise their game.

Perhaps they'll create a new generation once the Scarab casualties get unsustainable.

Mr. van Wyck's attack pattern has gotten more precise since I first watched him. Rather than smashing the hull, he's targetting the weapon systems. In other circumstances not destroying the ship might be a mistake, but here keeping our ship safe has absolute priority. Destroying a ship that isn't rigged to explode using raw strength isn't actually that easy. Main drives, reactors, capacitors and the bridge, and even then the ship might well survive to be repaired and any bit you don't destroy can probably keep operating. Smash the guns off and it can't shoot at your ship.

Capital ship guns might lack precision and struggle to get through shields on ships of a similar size, but once they do they usually do widespread enough damage that the target gets destroyed.

I generate 'THANK YOU' in construct letters as the last of his target's primary guns comes free from its hull. He actually does a double take when he turns around and sees it. Then he smiles awkwardly and-.

I dismiss the construct, then gesture at the rest of the fight with my right hand. He nods and returns his attention to it.

Well, I say 'fight', but in reality there's not a lot that this small collection of Reach ships can do against the Effigies. They're getting more hits in than the first target the Effigies hit today, but they're not achieving any more and most of them are already drifting wrecks. The last two are getting-.

One activates-. Hm. I wasn't interdicting that type of drive. It's gone, though the other… It's flying away as fast as it can at sublight. Its drive hasn't been destroyed… Did the other have a non-standard setup? Or was it the designated survivor and the rest of them are under orders to fight for as long as they can to gain information?

With the Effigies now finishing the job and tearing the crippled ships apart, I can take one eye off our ship. I generate… Yes, one of those faster-than-light ship-scale weapons, based on the design of the Tartarathian ships Devlos Ungol once commanded. Scanning, based on angle of travel…

There. Target and fire.

Warning: low power.

And there, the designated survivor fails at its job.

I dismiss the construct as Mr. van Wyck does a quick check on the squad and then flies towards me.

"You're welcome."

"Good awareness."

"The ship that left. That was what you shot, right?" I nod. "You know why it left? Were they just running away?"

"I suspect they were trying to get their sensor readings of the fight to their comrades, but I don't know for certain. Can you guard the ship for a moment? I need to recharge."

He turns away and makes the 'assemble' gesture to his squad. It takes a few moments for them to notice, but after less than a minute most of the squad has formed up around our ship.

Quite good. Could be better, but without a better way to communicate…

I raise my hands and bring out my personal lantern. I really need to have another go at making one. Just… Had too much happening.

"This is my cause, this is my fight,
Shine through the void with orange light.
I've claimed all within my sight,
To keep what is mine, that is my right."

My constructs shut down as orange light streams out of the personal lantern and into my rings.

"Do you gotta say that every time?"

"Technically, no, but it's… Ritual." Recharge complete, I send the lantern back into subspace and restore the construct barrier around the ship. "There was an... Event, that made me think about what I was trying to do as a Lantern, and that's when I came up with it. Now it's just… Part of the whole thing. With newer Lanterns I encourage it as a way to keep them stable."

"Stable? I didn't think that thing about Lanterns going crazy was true."

"It happens. Usually they can recover once we take their ring away, but… There's a reason for the suitability tests. I don't like sending Lanterns to the Blue Cells, but…" I shrug. "Everyone gets briefed when they apply, but we can't really… Orange Lanterns think in anomalous ways as part of being good Lanterns, so it's hard to have a standard way of checking up on them. Squad members are supposed to keep an eye on each other, but with the mix of species, they often don't know the warning signs either."

"H.. uh." He looks away. "That-." He clams up, looking around. "What's their fleet doing?"

"Not much. Moving to muster points, from the looks of things."

"Why aren't there more of them?"

"Don't know. Messed up as this is, it might not have a high priority with the Hive Fathers. Plus, they tend to keep their large fleets in central locations and send them where they're needed, rather than having a medium sized fleet everywhere."

"How about..? Scarabs?"

"I'd guess that if there are any Scarabs here, they're down on the colony and blending in."

"Can she-? The Darkstars, can they handle that?"

"I've seen-."

Alert.

"Wait."

Ooh.

"What?"

"Remember how the Reach had a fleet to relieve your last target, but we left before it arrived?"

"Yeah?"

"They're here."

 

[Mr Zoat]

29th April 2013
22:45 GMT

Orange light illuminates local space as I both generate images of the ships heading towards us and generate the most powerful interdiction fields that I can manage.

Every few seconds they buckle as the Reach interdiction stations try and disrupt them. These are places designed to fight Lanterns, after all.

Mr. van Wyck takes the ships in. "How big are they?"

I add a minnow-scale image of the ship we brought with us for size comparison.

"Oh."

"Worse thing is, these ones-" I highlight the battleship and cruiser types. "-are classes we haven't seen in the Periphery at all. As far as I can tell, they're primarily designed for fighting small targets."

Effigy Krillik looks closer at their primary armament. "I don't recognise those."

"Variable direction energy discharge weapons. They sacrifice peak output in exchange for being able to send energy in… Not quite any direction, but any direction described by the disc at the base. Depending on the targetting software and exactly how fast they can charge up, they could be anywhere from 'hard' to 'impossible' to evade. Supreme Commander Dox considered using a similar weapon layout for anti-Scarab work."

"He decided against it?"

"Scarabs are rare, and every major battle would have Orange Lanterns available to counter them. He decided it wasn't worth the drop in effectiveness against warships."

Krillik -and several other Effigies- look to Mr. van Wyck. He looks uncomfortable for a moment, then works through it.

"What? We're not invulnerable. We're tougher than most Lanterns with construct armour, but those things were designed to kill Lanterns." He turns to me. "Do you know how far they can shoot?"

"For all versions of that weapon that I've seen, attenuation is a problem. Otherwise they'd be shooting at us now. As an estimate…"

I generate an image of this star system, mark the incoming Reach fleet's position and then draw a circle around it. It's about fifty times the distance between the Earth and the Moon.

"That's its peak effectiveness range. After that it will hit less hard. Plus, I doubt that it's a faster than light weapon, so at that range it's taking about a minute to hit you."

One of the other Effigies sneers. "A minute? That's not going to hit anything."

Krillik raises a limb. "We don't know their rate of fire. And look: there are a lot of them. We would have to fly at close to our best speed to avoid them, and if we closed the distance then their odds get better."

"Do you guys have a long-ranged attack that I don't know about?"

Mr. van Wyck shakes his head. "And we can't go at them full speed."

"Why not?"

There are a few winces.

"It's… Navigation. Space is…" He makes a circle with his right hand. "You know, really big. If we fly past them, we can't really… It can take a moment to work out what system we just flew out of, and then it's hard to spot where the fight is actually happening. By the time we work out where stuff is…"

"Improved stellar navigation coming with the next update?"

There are a few laughs. Mr. van Wyck shrugs. "Or we could just bring you wherever we go."

"Jade likes my face too much to replace it with a white mask." I frown. "How did you find that shipyard, then?"

"Memorize the location relative to places we know, then head for the closest star. We didn't have a chance to get a feel for the area here." He looks away for a moment. "Fucking hope we get improved navigation, yeah. But-. Er, what about the really big ships?"

I bring one into greater focus. "Standard dreadnought layout. Big guns, giant gun, lots of smaller guns. The battleships are more of a threat to us, but… Its big guns can hit the planet surface through the atmosphere from quite a way away. If they decide to destroy the settlement, there's not much you can do to stop it."

"You can?"

"I'll be trying, but those are very big guns and I lose a lot of utility when I'm anchored in place. And I can't move much anyway because…"

I point to the interdiction field generators, which choose that moment to have a big wobble.

"Can we just fly away and lead them off?"

"We could try, but there isn't really any pressing need for them to follow us. The only interesting thing in this system is the colony. And that fleet is easily big enough to split up and go after both us and the Darkstars."

"I guess we get to test ourselves out, then." He grins at his subordinates. "Who's up for wrecking some biiiig ships?"

A few of them nod, but it's a pretty hard test of their resilience. And possibly an unnecessary one.

"There.. might be an alternative."

Mr. van Wyck raises his eyebrow ridges at me. "Yeah?"

"Here." I generate two maps, one of this system and another of the surrounding systems. "These-" I mark thirty seven locations. "-are the stations they're using to counter my interdiction fields. Each one that gets destroyed makes their fleet a little slower."

"How many to stop it completely?"

"Um." I generate a map of the entire Reach Core and light up about three million locations. "About that many. But if you destroy all thirty seven then it'll take them half an hour to get into firing range with their dreadnoughts, and if it takes the Darkstars that long, it would probably be better for me to try scooping the settlement with a giant grabber construct because something's gone very wrong."

Mr. van Wyck nods. "What sort of weapons do those places have?"

I dismiss the maps and ships, and generate a construct of one of the stations.

"Scaled down versions of weapons on the battleships, and fewer of them. To begin with."

"What d'you mean?"

"The fleet is sending their cruisers ahead to reinforce them. Adding in their weapons and improved armour would make them much harder to hit."

"What happens if we don't hit them all?"

"The fleet arrives faster, and then the ground operation becomes unviable." I shrug. "I don't know exactly how long we need. If you don't want to charge the fleet, hit as many as you can."

"Right." He nods. "Map of the local area?"

I restore it, and he starts assigning targets.

 

[Mr Zoat]

29th April 2013
About ten minutes in

Big ships.

Those are big ships.

I didn't want to say anything, but the same… 'Sense', I guess, that lets me fly where I want in space is actually letting me feel those ships. And I'm feeling them a lot more than other ships I've felt. The way Paul was going on… Yeah, I think they could kill me.

I mean, I don't know they could. But the feeling… It's not really in my stomach anymore, but it's the same sort of feeling… The feeling I'm getting is that this is something that is actually a threat to me. Like… When I started fighting things in space when the Controller gave me powers. I hadn't really gotten my head around what it was like. I thought having one guy-. No, if it was Superman-. Having me fight a giant metal spaceship was a stupid idea. It's just-. It's a giant piece of metal, right? That just doesn't make sense.

Then I actually did it, and… I don't know if it makes sense, but I'm used to it. The whole 'fly-right-up-to-the-metal-wall-in-the-sky-and-win' thing.

So we need to slow them down. The space stations in this system behind them… Forget about it. Flying around them when they can see us just isn't happening. But the ones just ahead, or off to the side, we can get them, and the ones in the systems they didn't just come from, because they obviously left some people behind to look after them. And then we get the ones closer to the planet when they keep coming. And I'm not.. worried about the small ships, even if they are harder to kill than the ones we've fought so far. They're small. The Reach don't build bad ships. They might be better at some things but from what Paul was saying their firepower isn't much different from what we've taken on before. If the Reach send them out to protect their stations… That's not a problem. Whoever gets assigned can just ignore them and do their job.

But I wanted to take the one that was right where the fleet is coming. Because… Because if I gave it to someone else and then any of them looked at me… What the fuck do I say?

"Prime…" Krillik's looking… I don't know, alien? I don't know alien expressions yet. "Can you fly faster?"

Right, focus. Like a Green Lantern.

This is the sort of time when having heroes growing up would be useful, isn't it?

It's actually easier to focus on the ships. I mean, they're in the same direction. I'm not going 'miss the system' fast, so I don't need to worry about that. Just put my foot down and try and get there a bit before the big ships-.

Will they be able to slow down? I keep getting confused about who can do that. I can stop in no time flat, and I know some ships can do that too and other ones can't because of momentum?

See, this is why I didn't pay attention in science class. That shit's so inconsistent in the real world! Sometimes things work one way and sometimes they don't and you can't tell in advance!

…

I should probably have paid attention in science class.

Go faster.

"Sorry, not used to this 'mental focus' thing."

"That wasn't why I asked. I know Controller Jevek tried our modifications on you first. I thought that you might have one that made you faster."

"I wish. No, we've all got the same stuff." Huh. "Which is kind of weird when you think about it. Not like our species are related or anything."

"I don't really think we're members of our old species anymore. Just.. burned effigies of them. We sacrifice our forms to fight the Reach. Perhaps we could be considered members of a new species, created purely to fight the Reach."

"I only picked 'Effigy' because I thought it sounded cool. I wasn't really thinking about it like that."

"Hah!" Oh, I recognise a smile! "Do 'orange lanterns' have significance in your culture?"

"Halloween I guess? We-. There's this orange gourd called a 'pumpkin'. We carve scary faces on them and then put them outside our houses."

The other kids did, anyway.

"I think the Illustres is missing an opportunity. Imagine if he replaced the boring design with a fearsome gourd-face!"

I start imagining him with a pumpkin-face, and I can't help but chuckle.

And that's the station coming up.

"Right. I'll punch a hole, you get to their computer and see what you can get. Once I've-" Killed. "-got rid of the crew then I'll try distracting the ships."

"We might not have time."

"Then we don't have time. But I'd feel like a prize idiot if it turned out it was that simple."

He sighs. "I wish I were a better computer technician. But a proper technical rig wouldn't survive… This."

"I wish for a lot of things. But none of them matter right now either. We've just got to do what we can. And… Now."

We both slow down as the space station is there, and as I look past it I can just about see the fleet heading for us. The station's got a plasma shield up but we're both disrupting and punching as hard as we can and we make a hole in a few seconds.

Could be a trap..?

And on to the station and its turrets, none of which are big enough to do anything. No ships-. The station has turned its plasma shield off. Uh. Trying to give the incoming ships a clear shot? Doesn't matter. Wall… There looks like it leads somewhere, so-

CRUNCH.

-through we go! Corridors, heavy doors closing and Reach people running-. Reach people melting and-. Bursting. Turret guns pop out of the walls and coloured gas starts getting pumped out of little… Pop-cap things. The gas smells a bit weird but I just push on through the space door.

CRUNGK.

A couple of Reach people glance back as the door breaks and melts around me, but the sensible ones keep running. Then they all break and melt too because I can fly faster than they can run.

It's so easy to feel bad if the Controller hadn't made sure I knew what sort of people they are.

"You know where we're going?!"

"Left and down a bit, I think?!"

Fucked if I've got a better idea. Didn't get briefed on the layout of this type of station. I melt whatever's in front of me and then turn, smashing though a wall, then another wall, and then… Er… A warehouse? A hangar? I set the Reach people working there on fire as I try and work out where to go next. No, wait, not that one. She's got a computer notepad thing. Grab, put the fire mostly out.

"Where's the command centre? And… What's in the crates?"

"I-. I will not tell you."

I shrug, and set her right arm on fire.

"AYYYIIEEEE!"

"Yeah. Hurts, huh?" Krillik makes another hole, and I fly through it after him. What did Paul say he did..? Right. "If you tell me where it is, I'll just go straight there and everyone else might get to live. Otherwise I'll just kill everyone flying around randomly."

"A-h-h-hieee w-won't-."

I set her right leg on fire.

"YAAAAAAAGH!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

29th April 2013
A couple minutes more

"Prime, that won't work."

Yeah, I think he's right. And… Even if she is an alien super-Nazi, I don't-. I thought she'd just cave!

"Alright." I drop her. "Maybe one of the others-."

"No, Prime." I tense for a moment, but he doesn't really sound angry or anything. "The Reach ensures its people are completely loyal. Pain won't motivate them."

"Right." Ugh, this could take-. Wait. I know Paul said that persuading them was the only thing that worked, but she was on fire when I asked. Maybe she didn't… Hear it clearly? "Okay, find another and ask before setting them on fire."

"We could just break a case open."

"Yeah, but it could be sealed.. medical stuff or something explosive. P-. The Illustres said he got killed by qwa-matter because they made it explode next to him." I shake my head. "Plenty of Reach in this place. Let's go."

Pick a direction at random… Down. Melt and slam and fly through… Armour, cables and pipes… Some electricity but not enough to hurt me, some chemicals but they don't do anything, and then I'm through.

And there's more Reach people.

I create a wall of disrupted matter-. Flame, around them.

"Okay, it's like this. I want to disable the interdiction system. If you tell me where it is, I'll fly right to it, wreck it and then leave. You'll all live, and most of this station will be in one piece. You can probably repair it in a couple of days. If you don't tell me where it is, I'll have to wreck the whole station and kill all of you. Whoever's in charge will have to make a whole new one."

I smile, but the white mask that's my face now probably… I mean, if a white mask smiled at me I'd find it creepy. But Reach people have weird faces, so-.

"Oh, and those crates up there." I point at the hole. "What's in 'em?"

The Reach people hesitate. The closest one raises a hand. "Can..? We discuss this?"

"Sure, but I kill one of you every five seconds."

I point my right hand at him, fingers extended. Then I count 'two' and drop my thumb. Two more and I drop my next finger. Then-.

The Reach people have a really quick muttered conversation, and I drop another finger.

"The interdiction system has three generators, spread out across three points in the interior portion of the station."

I think for a moment. "Glowing blue bit?"

"Ah… Well, that's part of the emitter. You'd have to actually destroy what's under there to stop it."

"Great. Thanks. And the crates?"

"That… Could be anything. They're standard transportation crates. Some probably have spare parts, some probably have food, and some probably have medical supplies…"

That's pretty reasonable. … And it's exactly what he should say to get me to leave it alone.

I drop another finger.

"So there's no problem if I destroy them all, right? Big fleet like that, they've got to have plenty of replacement stuff."

"Can we talk about-?"

I drop my last finger and fry him.

"What's in the crates?"

The next nearest Reach person looks at the other two, and they take a step away from him.

"It's-. Produce!" I glare at-. "It is! It is! From our colony. And some computer components! Fresh food makes postings like this much more civil than-"

Computer… Components.

"-deep space-."

I fry them all. "Krillik!"

"I opened a crate, Prime!"

"Brains, I know! Stick them in a… Ship or something, we'll try and take them with us! I'm going for the interdiction field generators!"

"Understood!"

Okay, so I'm… Here, and that means that the generators are… That way.

Fists out, melting on, fly!

Wall. Wall. Wall. Sparkly… Thing that isn't there any more. Wall. Thicker w-. Space. I look around-. Near the top of the space station, there's the glowing thing I spotted earlier. Easiest thing would be to fly in from the outside!

Something expensive-feeling breaks as I smash the glowing thing with both fists, metal breaking and moaning as I force my way inside. No real gaps in the structure, but: why would there be? It's a big machine.. thing, the only reason for space would be to let the engineers in to fix it when it goes wrong.

And-. Oh, I'm in a room. Reach soldiers in armour shooting at me-. Hurts a little-. Oh, those are positron rays. I actually remember the description! Magnetic containment beams firing tiny bits of anti-matter. But-

Their guns explode, killing the soldiers.

-it's still only a positron, which is about as small as matter gets before it gets weird. It's not releasing that much energy.

No engineers or scientists. I guess they already evacuated. Which means… All that machinery is the interdiction system. Pretty big.

Smash or burn?

Trick question.

Smash and burn! Burn and smash! Smash! Bu-.

Urgh, it went in my mouth.

Smash some more, and… That looks pretty wrecked. This bit of the station is exposed to space… BURN!

Right, good. Now they'll have to replace this whole section before they can turn it back on. Could… Go outside or fly through the station. Ah… Unless they've got a Scarab Warrior, the outside guns are probably bigger, so fly!

Wall, wall, some-. Hah! Confident guys with guns who I flew through without really noticing until I was past them, and… There. That's what it looks like when it's in one piece. No soldiers in this one. Maybe that's who I flew through?

And keeping my mouth closed this time: Smash and burn! Burn and smash! Smash! Bu-.

AAGH!

Everything goes… Green, half the room melts away and I'm-

dAAAGH!

-rammed into the molten floor!

I push up and-.

Looks like those cruisers are here.

 

[Mr Zoat]

29th April 2013
Should this hurt?

Smaller ones, I guess. They don't look like the scary things Paul showed me, and small ships are usually faster. And they're okay with shooting-

I should be moving.

-through their own station, so I'll fly… This one's pretty wrecked and the next one is that way, so that way-.

Everything flickers green for a moment, but… They're not shooting at me-.

Krillik. And… If those crates do have brains in them, the brains aren't as tough as us. I actually-.

This feels stupid.

I fly towards the ships, past the broken and melted bits of space station, and… A few floating bodies, but hopefully the ships can see me anyway. I start disrupting matter around me to make it a bit more obvious that they didn't kill me with their first shot. I'm not.. sure that will work, because the metal around me is pretty melty so I'm probably not hotter than it is. I should move a bit as well, make it obvious that I'm not floating junk. I hope-.

Is it-?

Ah, faster!

Green beams smash into the station around me as I fly-. And a lesson I-. Overheard from the school phys. ed. teacher: jink. Change direction, because if they just run in a straight line they can tackle you really easily. So I change direction, and-. Oh yeah, yeah, they were paying attention. Guess they're given up on this station-. Or trying to destroy the brains? Or the station's just big enough that getting shot like this isn't a problem? Or-.

The outside of the station shimmers, and-. It's harder to fly through. Not much harder, but I have to focus, and now the shots from the-.

Pfff!

They're not punching through, and they finally hit me. The ships are getting closer, but… That shot didn't really do anything. I'm not sure how tough the shields are compared to me, but those beams don't… Look as big as they were the first few times they fired. So either they're more focused and it's some sort of optical illusion, or they've turned the power down.

Why?

They're clearly fine with shooting their own people-. But they're rational about it. They don't just shoot their own for fun, or because getting beaten means that they get executed. Did they..? Think I killed everyone where I was?

Did I kill everyone where I was?

Don't know don't care because there's the interdiction system thingy. I-.

AGHFUCKINGFUCK!

And now I'm back inside the station…

Ah…

Not sure if I got turned around or not. I don't feel.. great, but-. Check for injuries…

Just for a moment I see what looks like a small cut on my right arm, but it.. sort of.. vanishes a moment later. That's nice, and-.

Right. They knew I was heading for the end zone, so they could just point all their guns-.

Okay, not sure how many ships there are but that looked like a lot of guns, so…

Why haven't they shot me again-?

Okay, moving, not thinking things like that. I was pretty close, so it's just a couple of-.

The wall next to me vanishes, and there's a green beam before-. There's a hole. They're just shooting me, and they don't care-. Do they even know that Krillik's here? Someone might have reported it. But-. Hang on, he's over there…

Uh…

So it's better for me if they shoot up their station, because it makes my life easier. I mean, I could try attacking those ships, but the bigger ones probably aren't that far behind them. And I don't really-. I guess we could move brains in them-.

No, no, that's stupid. We can't fly them and the Reach people won't fly them for us.

I wonder if the Controller can add mind control to us? Wouldn't have to be really good mind control, just make them think the Reach needs-.

AGH!

FUCKing assholes.

Quick check. My head… Aches a little? But that's about it. Looking across the… chasm where their interdiction system used to be, I think we're done here. Only problem is checking whether Krillik's ready… Because no communication system was going to survive that. And if they just shoot up the hangar, then we've wasted our time in trying to rescue them.

How should I..?

Okay. Are there any Reach people around..? There.

I fly through the wall and grab one in… A slightly fancier than normal spacesuit.

"You look important." He tries struggling for a moment, but doesn't get anywhere. "Important enough that your life has value. And you've seen me close up, which makes you doubly important. Open a communication line to your main cargo hangar and I'll let you live."

"You killed the last people you offered that deal to."

"I asked them an honest question, and they lied to me. But for you, the communication line is either on or its not. You can't lie about it because you don't know what I expect to be there."

"That won't stop you killing me afterwards."

"But even if I do kill you, you'll have delayed me a little. What else are you expected to do?"

"Just evacuate." He points his free arm at a wall terminal. "I need to touch that. I doubt you'd trust my suit array."

I let go. "Fuck up and it's your funeral. And your ships are getting pretty shooty."

He walks over and presses some buttons. "I noticed. Frustrating… Writ-wrangler."

"What?"

He finishes pressing buttons, then studies the screen-. I shove him aside, looking for Krillik. He's opened some crates-.

"The Writ is our sacred text. A Writ-wrangler is someone who takes part of it out of context to justify doing something idiotic like shoot up a productive space station as part of a weapons test when there are perfectly-"

My right ear… Buzzes, and I look around and he's pointing a gun at me. Fucker shot me!

"-good ways to test-." The barrel starts glowing again, so I disintegrate him and then turn back to the screen.

"Krillik, you done?"

"Yes! I've got brains and a shuttle! But I can't work out how to get out. I can't put together a stealth system that-."

"Can you pretend you're a Reach person evacuating?"

"Maybe. The emergency beacon's automatic, but they'll just pick me up. Escape shuttles aren't fast enough to-."

What? "You can just push the ship from inside, though. If they ignore you for long enough, you'll get away."

"Push-? I should have thought of that."

"Don't worry. Easy mistake. Get going. I'll-." Fuuuuuck. This is going to hurt. "I'll get their attention."

 

[Mr Zoat]

29th April 2013
23:00 GMT

What..? Is..?

Effigy Krillik is… Pushing a Reach shuttle, not… I mean, its engine is active, he's not just shoving it through space. Effigies don't have any sort of way to spread the load out, so if he tried accelerating to faster than light speed by brute force alone all that would happen is that the shuttle would explode. But he's combining its drive and his space-warping to make it go far faster than it could in any other situation.

"Illustres to… Reach shuttle. We've already got examples of this piece of Reach technology. Is there a reason why-?"

"They were shipping brains out. I've got them on board."

I nod as the shuttle approaches our ship. "What sort of state are they in?"

"I'm not sure. I think they're in suspended animation, but I'm not a physician and I didn't want to poke them too much."

"Probably the right call. Did Prime say what he wanted done with them?"

"He wanted them safe. He's not a physician either."

Our cruiser isn't designed to have shuttles on board, but creating a construct docking bay doesn't take much effort so I do so.

"Illustres to medical bay. Stand by to receive-. Brains."

"Sending ratings to assist with offloading."

I nod as Krillik lands the shuttle, melts its cargo exit and part of its computer and then flies out. I close the construct bay door behind him and then give the interior an atmosphere. That should make it easier for the medical detail.

"Are you heading back out right away?"

Krillik makes a negative gesture. "We can't afford solo missions. And Prime might need my assistance now that the hostages are freed. Can you see him?"

Naturally. "He's heading back now."

"Injuries?"

"I actually can't tell. I don't think he's desperate for medical aid, but that's about all I can say."

"Where is our next target?"

I generate a system map, showing the stations, destroyed and intact.

"This one. Should be a bit safer, but the main fleet is sending cruisers out in all directions. Were you hit?"

"No. Prime was, but he was in good health when-."

Mr van Wyck drops back into sublight a short distance from us.

"Ow-w."

Yes, he's-. I take a purple healing ray out of subspace and fly closer to him before shoot him with it. It looks like his.. 'skin' is smouldering, though I'm not sure if that's part of his power or if he's actually burning. It doesn't seem to be stopping.

"Martin? Can you hear me?"

"Yeah." He nods slowly. "Turns out? We can be injured."

"I'm sure that your Edison Award is in the post."

The smoking dies off as he turns his head to look at me. "Who?"

"Edison. He-." I shake my head. "Not important. Are you in one piece?"

"Yeah?"

"Uninjured, I mean."

He looks 'up' and accelerates to faster than light speed for a second, stops and then turns around and flies back.

"I think so. I'll ask the Controller to check once we get back to Maltus."

"Alright, but, both of you? The guns on those cruisers have about… One twentieth of the output of the battleship weapons."

Mr. van Wyck nods. "And they were pulling their punches when they hit me."

Hm. "Yes, I suppose they'd be interested in capturing you."

He blinks. "Huh?"

"If they capture you alive or dead, they can get a better idea of what you can do. Controller Jevek isn't going to stop producing-"

"Oh. Yeah."

"-more Effigies. Are you alright to keep fighting?"

"I think so, and I'm-." He frowns. "Do you think they've got more brains in storage?"

"I don't know. You didn't actually find that many, so… I'm wondering if they were installing them in their own system rather than storing them for someone else."

"I mean, do we need to tell the others to check the cargo bays in the other interdiction stations?"

"Not much point. They're going to know that you took something from the cargo hangar, and it probably wasn't cabling. Once they know that, they've effectively confirmed why we're here. And then the order will go out to destroy the-."

"Can we-!?" His eyes widen for a moment, then go back to normal. "We can't, we can't rescue them. Fuck."

"Almost certainly not, though I respect your impulse. Look, if you're going to go, you should-."

"Yeah."

He glances at the map, glances at the starfield, then glances at Krillik. Krillik makes a gesture of affirmation, then they're both gone.

Huh.

Can't really judge what that means about his resilience. I could tank a cruiser's firepower pretty much indefinitely, but most Lanterns aren't me and I don't know how hard they were trying to kill him. Of course I don't know how much of him saying 'ow' was psychosomatic and how much was a response to actual pain. Or he may have been more heavily injured than he showed.

I send my purple healing ray back into subspace as I mark off another interdiction field generator and note the slowing of the Reach fleet. Going well so far-.

"Darkstar team to Illustres."

"Responding. You've got about fifteen minutes before we need to start-"

Purple strands blur away from the planet, heading for-. Tracking? The interdiction stations. Empathic vision is rebuffed, but their F.T.L.…

"-panicking."

"We've got Scarabs. Improved ones. And the robots have been activated. We need assistance."

My eyes flick to the interdiction construct that's the only thing preventing the Reach fleet from jumping onto us.

Oh dear.

 

[Mr Zoat]

2013 12 29
Mission Time 00:23:32

Phase shifter active, I throw myself through a wall as the Scarab fires again, some sort of homing particle beam flying around the corner and striking the wall just behind me. I dash through the room, not letting my eyes linger on the body of the person who followed the order to 'put your right hand into the citizen chip implantation device'. They weren't quite loyal enough to keep doing it when everyone who did died a few moments later, but less than half of the people we came here to rescue were left before Darkstar Nueh hacked the broadcaster.

Scarabs are manageable. If you get the drop on them.

Warn-

A spatial compression well appears next to me and I throw myself left towards the living room as a detonates.

-ing!

It knocks me off my feet, but I roll with it and keep running.

One Darkstar dead and another critically injured before we realised that it could track our flight systems. If I had to guess, I'd say that the improved systems require improved brainpower. If not, we're going to need to warn N.E.M.O. that Scarab Warriors are about to get a whole lot more effective. Whatever that spatial compression thing is, it also prevent us from using subterranean ambushes because it somehow worked on phased matter.

Could just be the phasing technique we use. Feedback during debrief.

As I phase through the side of the building the ground shakes as Effigy Cyreg detonates another generator. The shield around the settlement isn't down yet, but it looks a lot less solid that it did. Hopefully, the defence guns are running short on power too.

Another volley of particle beams fly over the building, arcing down towards-

"Weasel."

-me, and then missing as Caccanah shoots him from behind. She'll reposition immediately, probably diving down from an elevated position.

I need to get into a firing position myself while he's distracted. If I take too long, he'll chase her down.

"Nueh to team. Message sent."

This time I don't clamp down on the feeling in my chest I get when I hear that Paul's been notified. If he's shielding the ship he can't afford to leave. There wouldn't be much point in sending L.E.G.I.O.N. marines down and I don't know what the other Effigies are doing. Fighting the whole Reach fleet, probably.

My exo-mantle makes me strong enough to leap up onto the roof of the next building over, and I carefully take in the Scarab's position. Heading 'south' after Caccanah, who is taking cover in the parking garage.

"Wild."

Deploy masers, manual targetting. Acceptable targets are the Scarab's head or spine. Passable targets are anything that gets the Scarab's attention.

Not an actual Wild Weasel of course, but you lose some of the subtleties when you talk to aliens.

Target acquired. Activate flight system.

The Scarab sprays some sort of plasma flamethrower into the parking garage with one hand while firing the particle beam upwards with the other, probably planning on making it drop down onto Caccanah when she comes out. An instant later and they're awkwardly redirecting themselves towards me.

"Flight system targeting is automatic."

His head turns and I fire, maser beam hitting him in the left eye just before his flamethrower turns into a shield.

"Weasel."

I deactivate my flight system and fall over the far side of the building, absorbing the impact with my armour's leg systems before springing 'east'.

"Target still active."

Of course he is.

And my evacuated firing position just got hit by particle beams. I'm trying not to think about how those are looping around at all.

"He's boosting. Cyreg's hit."

I wince, coming to a complete stop and redirecting power to my stealth system. I want to ask how injured Cyreg is, but any transmissions-.

The Scarab is now high in the sky above us, one arm transformed into a sensor array. I wonder if the person inside there is actually loyal to the Reach or trying to fight the parasite off? More likely they're just confused.

"Evacuation complete."

"You got everyone?"

"Everyone who's coming."

"Position secure?"

"Robots are focusing on Effigy Malag. Entire Reach planetary occupation force inbound. So, no, not-."

The air around me starts to shimmer. I redirect power from stealth to electromagnetic shielding and press myself into a corner.

CLRKCLRKCLRKCLRK!

Lightning leaps from the Scarab, blasting from plasma cloud to plasma cloud as he gives up on targeting us individually and settles for electrocuting the entire district. I flinch as a section of wall near to me gets hit and then explodes as its interior is vaporised.

This attack is highly lethal to unprotected conductive material, like people. If you're prepared and not very unlucky, you'll probably be okay if not for the fact-

The discharges weaken and I switch back to muscle enhancement and start running. Minor discharges hit my armour, but they're well within tolerance thresholds.

-that it's really easy for the Scarab to detect you right afterwards.

"Caccanah? Life check."

Take the corner fast by running up and along the wall, try and get one of the few still standing tall buildings between me and the Scarab because there's no way I'm going to have time to line up a shot.

"Wild."

A brilliant burst of plasma explodes in the air above us!

"Weasel?"

I slow and glance up to see the Scarab get himself back under control. But his armour looks like it took a beating.

"Good shot." And while he's distracted, I bring up my maser and aim for the weakened section of armour. "Got another?"

"Wasn't me. I think that was the Illustres."

Shooting a small target near the ground from space? … He's probably got a way to do that.

"Fire."

Four maser shots, three hitting the damaged section of armour and-.

He turns, both arms morphing into particle beams and I'm running again.

There's only so much of this town left, and less I can hide behind. We can't get the local people away from a Scarab, and ground troops are moving in.

I don't know what's going on up there, but they better hurry it up.

 

[Mr Zoat]

29th April 2013
Next objective

LeaveFTLReachshipsalreadyherepickangleandpunch!

Huh. The ship actually moved a little when I hit its shield. That's new. And then the shield breaks and I'm slamming into the hull as the ship's weapons start shooting at me. I think some of them hit me, but I covered the distance really quick and they don't have a lot of time to aim before they don't have an angle on me. Then-.

Huh.

Okay, hull held out a fraction of a second longer, but a couple of punches and I'm inside.

And that was a pretty good trick Krillik pulled, so I'm stealing it. Reach ships usually have their main support beams-

Are they called 'beams' in a ship?

-about here, yeah that feels right. Deep breath, disruption aura off, grab it and push. I can feel the station through the hull -feels smaller than the one we just wrecked- and… Either this ship's hull shields me, or they won't shoot their friends, or… It's got to be harder to work out what's going on, right? Delay them? Anyway, I accelerate it-

A Reach guy flies past me, sort of… Flattening? And gets pasted against the far wall.

-towards the station, and… Yeah, they're shooting it and I think its shield is still working. Makes sense; unless they get totally wrecked Reach ships can usually put them back up. I don't think the ship is using its engines… Not that I've tried this before. Station's getting closer… Closer-.

CRASH!

Dis-.

Agh. Agh? The ship just sort of broke around me. Guess I didn't make it hit hard enough to hurt me. Lost my grip but apart from that… Nothing-.

Shaking from the back of the ship. The other ships are going to try shooting through it, but this fleet is smaller than the other one. I start disrupting again and fly through the battered and twisted hull and into the station.

"Krillik!"

Nothing yet, but I was slightly ahead of him.

And I'm learning! Reach person in spare armour just in front of me. Grab the gun, chuck it aside, grab the helmet without melting it yet.

"I'm destroying your interdiction field generator. I can do that with everyone dead or most of you alive. Where is it?"

"You are not Written."

I flare the disruption aura around my head. "Lotta other people I can ask."

He points to his left, towards the bottom of the station. "That way."

I shove him aside and then drop him. "Thank you. A lot of your people wouldn't have died if they'd given answers like that."

"It-."

I ignore anything else he says, smashing and burning through the station-

"Prime!"

-until I get to… Looks like a Star Trek engine room. Bunch of Reach people, but they're backing away rather than grabbing their weapons.

I point to the exit. "Run." And then I walk to the buzzing, glowing thing.

It takes them a few seconds, but once they start going they really commit to the running thing.

"Yeah, Krillik?"

I was probably a bit too enthusiastic about the last place. Just wrecking the machine so they can't make it work in ten minutes should be enough. Disrupt… That… To slag, and we're good.

"Krillik?"

Could be nothing, could be too far away, could be busy-.

I flare my disruption aura to maximum and fly right out the way I came, bursting through wall after wall-. And there's space, and the ships are moving away-.

The flaming shooting star that is Krillik goes flying across the battle space… He's not in control, but a moment later he recovers and flies at one of the ships. He grabs it, and I start smiling and give him a little cheer.

And then a wide blue beam hits the ship and sends him flying again. Who was-?

Is that a Scarab? Purple armour, some sort of multi-barrel over the shoulder weapon tentacle gun thing-.

I fly, blue beams shooting past me-. Behind that ship? Doesn't look like he's morphed that big gun thing at the moment, and it should be able to take-.

He's stopped firing.

Okay, I killed Scarabs back before I got super strength. Hurt, and I had help, but there's two of us and…

Where'd he g-?

AK!

He-. Ax-. Shallow cut but that fucker-. Where's he gone?

Keep looking around-. "Krillik? You dead?"

"No, Prime." From… Below me, he starts flying towards me. "Hurt, but-."

I fly down, full speed with my disruption aura on, space blurring-. BAH!

And back in normal space, grab the Scarab's axe hand, disruption-.

Her armour is sort of shimmering along with it, but it's not-

OW! Fucking face!

-actually melting punch the fu-.

She's gone. Can't.. feel her. I know Scarabs can use stealth, so it's not that-.

I look around. I hate interstellar space. It doesn't feel like you're actually moving when you move, because the starfield stays the same. I came from-. Fuck, I got turned around.

Ah…

Okay, that's… The brain farm planet, over there. Which means I came from that system. The interdiction system's destroyed, but I need to check on Krillik. This shouldn't take-.

Augh-!

Something-. Something just hit-.

Move move move. I don't have vital organs. It doesn't even h-.

AAAAAAGHOOOKAy there it is. Took a moment. That's new.

Fly.

Space jumps again and-. A system with fucking lights, because the other fucking problem with interstellar space is that you can't see where anyone is unless they fly across a star and you're looking in the right direction!

"Krillik?"

"Prime."

I look around. He's sort of.. limping in space, but a few more ships are wrecked then when I left so I guess he's mostly okay.

"Scarab Warrior got a boost. Think we should head-?"

DURGH!

 

[Mr Zoat]

29th April 2013
OWFUCK!

"Prime!"

Tha's a spear…

AAAAGHnd now it's gone, and th's a hole.

Aaaa-aaaa-aaagh!

Krillik's.. grabbing my shoulders and… Pulling me towards a wreck. For cover?

I reach for the hole in my front with my right hand, and the hole in my back with my… With the back of my left. Ah… I can still feel my legs, so I guess… I don't need my spine any more? Or maybe it missed? Or I don't have a spine?

"-ime!"

"Huh?" Huh? "What?"

"You are badly injured. We should return to the Illustres."

"N… N-o."

"Why?"

"Can't lead… Save the brains. Whole point." Ugh-uh… "Reach ships. What bits-? You know what bits explode. Yeah?"

"Yes? You want to use them as grenades?"

"Guns hurt, but spear… Did this." Not bleeding. Sort of… Flaking, but not bleeding. "Can't disrupt her armour. Doesn't work."

"That leaves us with physical force. And 'ship grenades'."

"An-." I push myself away.. weakly, but I'm still super strong, so… "An' melty… Stuff."

"You said-?"

"Grab a thing, melt it and push it together. Like-." I grab a chunk of… Station panelling, crush it into a-. Heh, a spear shape, and… Press. "Like this."

"I didn't know we could make our own plasma." He flies to a wreck and rips a chunk off. Then he looks around. "Why hasn't… 'She' attacked again?"

"Thinking..? Haven't seen us before. Doesn't know what we can do."

"That won't last." His lump of metal shimmers and then bursts. "Shade! How do you do it?"

How do I do it..?

"Like… Swirl around." I wave my right hand in a circle so he can understand what I mean. "Keep things moving. Push in a circle so it can't get away."

"I… Think I understand." He grabs some more ship, squeezes it into shape and… Ayyyy, he got it! "I hadn't realised that degree of control w-"

"Behind y-" I fly, my spear extended and compressed as the Scarab darts-

"-as-?"

-in through the wreck!

"-ou!"

Krillik turns around as the Scarab comes at him with some sort of… Spear-gun? He tries to parry it with his spear, but loses control as they come together so his explodes, knocking them apart-.

There.

I shove my spear forwards, hitting the Scarab in the side. Doesn't pierce-. But! Disrupt the plasma like that and-

Fssssss!

-it's a high pressure plasma hose! The Scarab goes shooting away, clasping her side where the armour's gone darker. Punch it! And ag-. Ow, ah, fucking fuck! She morphed her arm into a shield and blocked-.

"Krillik, metal!"

Except he can't hear because he's too far away again. The Scarab makes an ax with her spare hand and swings at me, but I can just fly around that. I punch and she blocks, but this time I grab the shield and pull myself around-.

Grab the ax handle and pull!

Crun-KRAK!

Part of her arm? Hit her with it! YAH! Neck! Side! Side! Gun!

Gun?

Ooof!

I go flying away from her-. Not positrons, doesn't.. really hurt, but I'm struggling to stop. Krillik-. Krillik's got a new spear, so-.

"Krillik, catch!"

I toss him the ax, and-. Judged it right, so he catches it and lunges at the Scarab, who… Um, not sure what she's doing. Shifting something.

"Aim for her left side!"

Okay, they're getting further away, which is bad, because I don't think Krillik heard me. Disruption aura and try flying really hard because it's my job! No, no, n-. Dah! There! Head back fast as I can!

Krillik's… Getting shot, but he seems to be coping with that as he-. Damn it, near miss on hitting her head with his plasma spear! She's gone with two thin blade-arm things and he's… Sort of smacking them aside with her own ax. She's knocked back each time-.

Krillik's keeping on her, but they're coming up to a wreck. Uh. Right. Disruption aura off-. Check my injuries. Hole's still there but it's not flaking any more, so… Good? Then fly around where they're fighting and around the ship so they can't see me. Can't listen in on people in space, not how we Effigies talk.

"Krillik, I'm behind her." I push my hand through the hull, forming a new spear. "Try grappling if you can."

"Not-. Easy, Prime."

"If you can't then you can't." Turn it to contained plasma… Good. Move to the edge of the wreck so that I'm just out of view… Good. "But I'm ready to jump her if you can."

"When I shout, come immediately."

"Got i-."

"NOWNOWNOW!"

I dart around-. Krillik's bear hugging her, and her blades are-. In his shoulders and.. stuck? She's trying to get free, but I'm already behind her with spear tip poking the base of her spine.

Release.

She shudders as the plasma hose bores right through the scarab machine, through her body -shame, but we probably can't save her- and into-.

"Agh!"

"Sorry!"

Into Krillik, but it should have lost almost all of its power. He releases her, grabs her blade arms and shoves them out of his shoulders as.. the scarab armour starts to fall off. Yeah, we can't-. Vacuum exposure will kill her even if the injuries might now. And yeah, it's one of the people we came her to save.

"You alright?"

Krillik checks his chest and shoulders. "I can fight. A bit." The ax falls apart, and he tosses the arm aside. "Back to the Illustres."

Yes, we should-.

Wait.

"No. There wasn't anything special about this place."

"Yes?"

"So why did a Scarab Warrior come here? We need to check-."

His eyes widen. "The others!"

"Yeah. Ah." I look around, trying to feel. "That way first."

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd December 2282
12:09 GMT -6

"THAT IS NOT GOOD MEDICAL PRACTICE."

In Magic: the Gathering… Or Tragic the Garnering here, I suppose. You lose the game when your life total reaches 0. But there's no disadvantage to being at 1 life compared to being at 100, aside from it being easier to drop you to 0.

With access to stimpacks and psychic chirurgy, there are no injuries we can't eventually fix. Even the effects of brain injuries can be moderated by the use of cybernetic implants which can be provided by both the Brotherhood of Steel and the Followers of the Apocalypse. So while a normal soldier has to worry about being invalided out if they're seriously injured, wealthier or better connected people really only have to worry about dying.

In the medium term.

I tug on the rope again. "I know, ARGOS. But I need to be there. I need to oversee things. My mission, my responsibility."

In the short term, I know that there's a big difference between climbing down a lift shaft on metaphorical 20 life when compared to metaphorical… Let's say 4. Everything hurts. The movements. The stimpack solution pushing bits of my body back into the right places without dealing with the debris. The bangs against the edges of the shaft because ARGOS can't fit far enough into the topside opening to lower me down directly.

"I DON'T THINK THAT'S HOW IT WORKS."

But the rope starts extending again anyway. ARGOS is an interesting case, because once we removed Calculator and Doki Doki's overrides… He isn't actually obliged to obey anyone. He was designed to coordinate with ODYSSEUS, but his original programming wasn't complicated enough to be able to generate other desires. He didn't need obedience programming because he'd never want to disobey.

Then Victor Presper damaged his communications array to prevent ODYSSEUS giving him tasks, and an escaped prisoner connected him to the robots of Robot City. All of them. I'm not sure exactly what happened, but somehow exposure to thousands of fractured personality programs changed him and now he makes his own decisions.

"I didn't say it was sensible or-." Adjuhjuhjuh! "-intelligent, just that it's necessary."

"DO YOU LACK OBJECT PERMANENCE?"

I roll my eyes. "I don't know. Stop talking and see if you stop existing."

Past the floor where Calculator tried taking my head, and down towards the lowest level.

"I THINK DOKI DOKI SHOULD BE PUT ON A TIME OUT."

He's also not very impressed about his 'daughter' having used the communication channel he gave her for emergencies to hack his brain.

"That's ARGOS! Hey! Emergency override-!"

"THAT WILL NOT WORK. I HAVE UPDATED MY COMMUNICATION PROTOCOLS. YOU ARE IN TROUBLE."

"Eep!"

And here's the bottom, where the lift Lanius destroyed crashed down to. A little telepathy-.

**Yoo-hoo?**

**Chief?** Ah, good, Carlton's in one piece.

**Coming down now, please don't shoot me. I've had quite enough of that today.**

I drop the rest of the way onto the uneven metal, and then undo the loop of cable from my harness before cautiously clambering over the metal to the door. I rap my knuckles against the left hand door twice, and the use mechempathy to cycle the mechanism.

Clunkclunkclunk.

A couple of guns are raised in my direction, but get lowered again the moment they see me.

"Casualties?"

Carlton nods. "Mark took a plasma bolt to the head, and one of the Paladins didn't tell us they had a pacemaker."

I wince. Unfortunate, but something like that happening in an operation like this was probably inevitable. I didn't know Mark well, and he's hardly the first person to die under my command. The Paladin thing was stupid-.

"It wasn't Justinia, was it?"

"No. I.. didn't get his name-."

I hold up my right hand and shake my head. It's not strictly speaking our problem, but it does indicate a need to check out communication more thoroughly in future.

"Have you found McKinley's brain?"

"Yeah, that's-." He starts walking towards one of the adjacent rooms. "You should speak to her yourself, Chief. She's… Odd."

I follow him, one of my soldiers filing in behind me while the rest continue to guard the lift area. Looking around I can see bullet fragments and bits of robots littering the floor, though it looks like the wrecks have been removed. Carlton leads me around the edge of a… C-27 assembly line, and up a spiral staircase into… Some sort of office, or… Board room? This vault was originally intended for human habitation, I just haven't really… Seen many human touches since I got here.

And there's the last brain.

"McKinley?"

"Finally. Completed your hostile take-over?"

"Pretty much. Calculator?"

"If I'm honest, I'm not feeling too great! One more brain and I'm just running on Doki!"

A cluster of… Brotherhood scribes, are working on the system connecting her to Vault 0 with one of my mechempathy specialists.

"So, McKinley: your options are-."

"I'm staying right here."

"You..? Are?"

"My people came from the Secret Vault in West Texas, before the Brotherhood kicked us out. Just about every one of them are dead or part of the Legion. WARDEN won't tolerate gun-toting capitalism, and I got… I'm out of contract. What's your bid?"

"A replacement body, and lawful employment. You could be a legitimate private security operative."

"Nah. Right now, I've got a unique value set. If everyone else gets out and you liquidate Calculator, I'm the best brain to run this problem child of a Vault and turn it into a cash cow. And I like Vaults. Grew up in one, like I said."

"That… Could be made to happen. I have to consult the other stakeholders first-."

"Stakeholder capitalism is a load of baloney! You answer to your shareholders, not whatever asshole thinks you oughtta!"

"Primary shareholders, then. I can probably sell it to WARDEN as community service, and you would effectively be imprisoned. What would you want out of this?"

"Better accommodation, no heavy lifting, and kill-cameras on every robot so I can watch them downsize whoever we're hostile take-overing this week."

I nod as the scribes finish fiddling and the speakers crackle.

"I think we can work something out."

"Daisy..! Daisy..! It's all.. going.. darkkkkk…"

 

[Mr Zoat]

29th April 2013
23:08 GMT

Those… Ships… Are getting closer.

Most of the Reach's local interdiction field generators have been destroyed, and that's slowed them down. But not all, and-.

I look up as the Effigies deployed to-. No, all of the Effigies leave F.T.L. and appear close by. A lot of them are carrying-. I think those are injuries, but the flames make it a little hard to-.

That one's not moving.

"Mister van Wyck? What happened?"

He glances back at one of the-. Does that hole come out of his back? One of the dead Effigies, before turning to me.

"Brain-Scarabs. Some of… The people whose brains they're harvesting. They stuck Scarabs on them and sent them after us."

"I take it they're a little more effective than usual?"

He nods. "A bit. I… I don't know if these guys are actually dead or what, but-" He points to our ship, and the Effigies carrying them head that way to drop their burdens off. "-they had a few more weapon options, moved better… Haven't fought enough Scarabs to know how much the difference was. How're things down there?"

"They're ready to go. One Scarab and an army of robots." I look at the remaining Effigies. "If we're taking the ship down, you'll need to kill that last Scarab and the larger robots."

He nods, looking down. "Big guns?"

"Your people already wrecked them. We're pretty close to the end, and…" I generate a construct of the oncoming Reach fleet. "They're getting pretty close too."

"Yeah. Alright. Ah. Krillik, Lodd, and… M'ch'cs? You alright to fight?" Three affirmatives. "With me. Everyone else, get ready to attack the Reach fleet. Shouldn't need to, but… Shit happens."

He turns in space so that he's facing down, and then accelerates, the other three a short distance behind him.

I sigh. Not much of the town left, and the Darkstars haven't been able to do much to slow down the.. Scarab.

Odd.

"Effigy Lumsk, did you kill all of the Scarabs you encountered?"

"No, Illustres. One of the interdiction stations had been heavily reinforced, and one of the other Scarabs chose to run once we reinforced Effigy Tun."

So they have a sense of self-preservation. But one stayed behind. A delaying action? No, that wouldn't make sense. From what I've seen, the Scarab down there isn't targeting the refugees. It's targeting the Darkstars and taking occasional shots at the Effigies.

What is it..?

There's a flicker, and I see-.

"Illustres to Darkstars planetside. The Scarab Warrior is confirmed unwilling host, and actively fighting against the scarab device."

"Then I'll make sure I go to their funeral."

Which is an eminently sensible statement from Jade, as forcibly disconnecting a scarab is actually rather difficult. "That-. The Effigies are back and heading down. Once the area is clear, I'll bring the ship down and we can evacuate."

"You could have led with that."

"Sorry. Please pass the other item along to the Effigies. They might be able to work something out."

"I guess we know it's possible to preserve their brains."

"If it comes to that." I generate a strategic railgun construct and fabricate anti-ship size crumbler rounds, aiming at the oncoming battleships. "Let me know if you need immediate extraction."

"No, it's-. The Effigies just arrived." … "How do I get their attention?"

"We're working on that."

I hear her take a completely calm breath. "I'll work something out."

"Thank you."

I start firing. The battleships are accelerating as hard as they can against my interdiction field. The cruisers are closer, but they're easily agile enough to avoid any shots and lack good ground strike weapons. If I can force the battleships to change course slightly, then it will take them significantly longer to get into strike range.

The worst thing that could happen is the surviving Scarabs warping here in close proximity to my interdiction field generator construct, but since they couldn't time that precisely with the ships I'd probably have time to get it back up while the Effigies fought them off. Then it would be… The Reach ships having weapons that don't have to worry about attenuation, and shooting-.

Which they've just started doing.

I raise a construct barrier.

"Illustres to ship, begin heading down. The Reach are trying to get a natural twenty."

"Understood, Illustres. Underway."

Effigy Shuun drifts closer. "Do you want us to push it?"

"Best not risk their inertia controls. And I don't think it's necessary. At this range, with the relatively small number of kinetic weapons they have, the chance of them hitting anything is negligible. Just keep standing by in case Scarabs or something jump us."

"Understood."

Our ship begins turning, and I.. feel it as the magicians on board begin preparing the spells to preserve it in the Honden. And my gun construct keeps firing.

There's a flash from below as the Effigies hit the robots with overwhelming force, Effigy Malag looking a little relieved. Looks like mass low power fire can cause problems for Effigies, or at least cause them pain. Jade… Manages to get into shouting range of Mr. van Wyck, and he turns away from the scrappage scheme to listen. Something to feed back on: he should have stopped in with the ranking Darkstar first. Though given the Effigy communication problems…

He's grabbing Krillik and pointing into the town. Jade nods and heads… Underground, while van Wyck himself grabs a mangled piece of wreckage and flies towards the remaining Scarab. He's… Ah, turning it into a high pressure plasma field. I hadn't realised that he could do that, but I suppose it's a logical application of his abilities. The Scarab is focusing on him, and I see a couple of other Darkstars use the opportunity to leave the town and head for the muster point. Okay, good, but-.

He closes the distance in the blink of a eye, takes a hit from a body morphed hydraulic ram to the shoulder without flinching, then brings his plasma spear-.

And high pressure plasma hoses right through the Scarab's neck.

Well, mission accomplished, I suppose. Nothing down there is close enough to-.

Jade phases through the rubble and flies upwards, catching the head in… Something that looks like the brain storage boxes. For preservation, presumably. Good thinking; they'd have to have something like that down there. And with its user absent, the scarab can't keep fighting. Though I'm pleased to see Mr. van Wyck frying it to make sure.

Mission success. Now comes the difficult task of helping the refugees recover.

 

[Mr Zoat]

22nd December 2282
15:38 GMT -6

"Chief, you gotta stop getting shot up like this."

I nod absent-mindedly from the first aid tent as Charles uses his psychic powers to knit my flesh back together properly. Stimpacks are a quick fix, but if you don't get the bullet fragments and bone shards taken out, you end up not getting any better. There's actually a serious problem in places where stimpacks are more commonly available than actual doctors; people assume that they fix everything on their own, or that the stimpack they used had something wrong with it and the solution is more stimpacks.

I try to smile reassuringly, ignoring the sensation of my legs being pulled open and bits of me ending up in a metal dish. "What doesn't kill me makes me stronger."

"Not unless there's some new mutation you haven't shared with the rest of us it doesn't. What doesn't kill you makes you crippled."

There's a tinktink sound as he tosses a… Worryingly large bullet out of me and into the dish. I guess it hit my tibia directly? My bones are pretty darn tough these days.

"Which wasn't great, but I knew that if I survived I could get it fixed. It completely changes the risk analysis."

"Chief, you were supposed to be a distraction while the main team destroyed Calculator. You could have done that by staying in the room with Doki Doki. Instead, you nearly died because you decided to deal with the situation yourself."

I shrug as he starts closing my injuries up. "Lanius was heading my way whatever I did. The corridor might have worked as a choke point, but his shield would probably have let him charge me down. I might have been able to force the Sentinels or turrets to shoot him in the back, but it would have been a near thing."

He steps away to wash his hands. "You didn't need to go on this mission at all."

Charles Tan is a member of the Followers of the Apocalypse. He originally came to us as part of a misjudged N.C.R. attempt to bring advanced medicine to us primitive tribals, and jumped at the chance to learn psychic chirurgy. He's been a valuable part of the community but I… Can't help but think that some aspects of tribal society pass by his notice.

"A young chief has to lead from the front." I swing my now fully functional legs around and get off the camp bed before pulling my trousers on. "Part of my job is inspiring people with my daring."

"That might have been true when you took over, but you're blind if you haven't noticed that your people worship the ground that you walk on."

"Ah." I frown. "Literally or metaphorically?"

"Metaphorically." He thinks for a moment. "Um, mostly. Some of the… Ah, N.C.R. people…"

"Yeah. Alright. Once the Legion is destroyed, there… Aren't that many places where I need to be on the front lines."

"What about the Eighties?"

"I'm hoping that we can persuade them peacefully."

"But you're still planning on going to Wendover yourself."

"It's got to be me." I shrug. "It's got to be me or Balm-Upon-Wounds, and he isn't allied to the N.C.R.. They won't respect anyone else. But then… That's it. Civilisation wins and I can focus on less dangerous work."

Okay, clothes, check, armour and inertia field, check. Plasma pistol in working order, check, restock of medical supplies, check. Brain… Feels like it's in good condition.

"For everyone's sake, I hope you're right." He sighs. "Come back if you feel unwell."

"I will, thank you."

I pat him on the shoulder and then walk out into the midday Colorado sun, to where a squad of Maxson Chapter Paladins and a group of C-22s in painted in WARDEN's colours are securing the exterior. The rest of them are scouring the Vault for anything my people and I missed. We think that we got all of the robots and terminals, but the Midwest Chapter believed that and look what happened.

Still got to repair the lift so we can get Doki Doki's terminal out. I might be able to levitate her up… Best not to. The only question…

I walk towards on of the C-22s. "WARDEN?"

The closest robot turns towards me. "Ah, the man of the hour! I hear you caught that red terrorist leader!"

He was wearing red armour, I suppose.

"His disembodied brain, with a little help from ARGOS. Do you want him?"

"That traitor set half of New Mexico on fire. You better believe I'm going to try him and execute him."

"Given the crimes which he committed in other states, would you mind if California and Nevada sent a couple of observers over?"

"Freedom of the patriotic press is a cornerstone of the American nation. But don't take too long in getting them here."

I nod. "I'll pass that on. Now, what do you plan to do about Calculator?"

"The auto-de-encephalator is not an F.D.A. licensed medical device. As such, I will have it destroyed. Becoming a disembodied brain does not cause a citizen to stop being a citizen. Their participation in Calculator's criminal actions as his processors was involuntary, and as such they cannot be considered criminally liable. The study of Vault Zero was contracted to the Brotherhood of Steel corporation, and so far as I can tell they have not been in breach of contract. However, given the obvious safety concerns I believe that I will require Vault Zero to be dismantled and then what's left will be destroyed."

I nod again. "That sounds entirely reasonable. And… Doki Doki?"

"I'm having my deputies use her broadcast equipment to upload her program to all of the robots Calculator subverted. That should deal with that. As for Doki Doki herself, she is not a person under the law. Unless that changes or if she becomes an active threat to the people of Colorado, I have no basis for acting against her."

"Okay, I'm going to be blunt: are you aware that she's romantically interested in you?"

"That makes no sense. I am a policing management A.I.. Her function is to enable romantic relationships between humans, a vital activity due to the collapse the population after the communist Chinese nuclear attack. Neither of our functions are enhanced by that sort of… I don't even know how I'd do that."

"No one presently alive is licensed to modify your programming, correct?"

"Once democratic government is re-established, appropriately qualified people can become authorised."

"But they'd have to learn you from first principles. No records of your creation exist, and you're sufficiently different from existing AIs that they couldn't directly apply what they know about them to you."

"That's true. The tendering process will be difficult."

"You're capable of learning, WARDEN. It wouldn't be that strange if -as time passes- you learned new ways to interact with people. There's no one who can say for certain how you'll develop. And… Well, sometimes relationships can be more… Practical than romantic. Does Doki Doki assist you in administering Colorado?"

"She is considerably better at interpersonal relationships than I am. I was designed to enforce the law, not govern a state. Her program allows her to perform a wide variety of tasks so long as they create novel romantic scenarios. I… Admire that about her."

"And I assume that you can split your attention between her and your responsibilities."

"Yes, easily. So, your suggestion is that I give it a go and become half of an AI power couple, and perhaps learn human emotions along the way, because that aids the State of Colorado and allows me to better fulfil my primary function."

"I intend to push for the reborn United States to recognise A.I.s of your class as citizens. If that happens, both you and Doki Doki will be able to both vote and marry. I suggest that you look into ways that you could branch out. One of the principles of Robert Peel -the man who founded the first modern police force- is that order can't simply be imposed through violence; police should be a part of the community they serve."

"And I should be able to learn those skills with her aid. I will think about it."

"Good man. And speaking of getting married, I need to get back to Nevada."

 

[Mr Zoat]

30th April 2013
10:56 GMT

Lantern Natu looks at me askance. "I could do that myself."

I nod as the first of the replacement bodies is carefully removed from the bio-printer.

"As could I, and Lantern Nax, and… A few others."

She returns her attention to the brain tanks. "Is this supposed to be a lesson in self control?"

"No. This is a lesson in how to bio-print replacement bodies and install brains. We cannot guarantee that there will always be Lanterns around with the right mindset, so we have to make sure that there's a non-Lantern solution available."

"So we just leave them there while we practice?"

"They're sedated. They're… Dreaming at worst. More likely they're-."

"Having the worst possible nightmares because their mentors cut their brains out."

"No, I had the Atlanteans make some dreamcatchers. I doubt that their thoughts are going to be pleasant, but they-" She frowns at me. "-aren't going to have nightmares."

"'Dreamcatchers'? You mean those bits of netting?"

"Yes. I usually use the opposite, but they're quite efficacious." I smile at her. "I know that finding out that-."

"How do they work?"

"If you want precise details, you'll need to speak to the wizards. Broadly, a nightmare is a sort of… Bad magical trip, where your mind connects to the realm of dreams and pulls all sorts of cruel creatures and negative narrative strands to expand an uncomfortable throught into something really nasty. Dreamcatchers filter the connection to the Dream so that the… Lure, if you like, can't go out."

I sigh quietly.

"Of course, sometimes, having a nightmare is a good idea, but I'll refer you to the goddess Melinoë if you want to have that discussion."

"I think they've had enough nightmares."

I nod. Threllian is going over the data the Darkstars recovered from the town. He wanted to help with the re-bodying, but I convinced him that his own feelings about the Reach might result in him inadvertently altering their minds, and he-. Very much wants to avoid doing that.

"What about the rest?"

"The Scarabs? Not much we can do for them. I mean, if we get very lucky-."

"No. The-. That wasn't their original homeworld, was it?"

"No."

"So there's nothing to stop the Reach cloning them again."

"Probably not. And when I feel it I'll take a look, but they'll probably fortify it better next time." I sigh again. "But they have to give them some sort of upbringing or their brains don't develop properly. We've bought a decade… Maybe a bit longer."

She nods slowly. "I can't get my head around this kind of evil."

"Oh? Nothing like this is Korugar's history?"

"Sure, but-. The people who did experiments on people-. They were some of the most evil people my world ever produced. When they were… Working for a government, they had to keep what they were doing secret, because it would have caused riots. And when crazy.. murderers did it on their own, the moment they were found out…"

"So you're asking why everyone in the Reach is fine with it, to the point where random cargo handlers know exactly what's going on?"

"They opened two continents for settlement. They didn't care which of their people found out about it."

"Lantern Natu, when I told you that the Reach were evil, what did you think I meant by that?"

"I.. thought they would be brutal expansionist militarists who ran a police state. And then I read the briefing documents, but I thought they might be.. exaggerated. And then the Darkstars started sending me examples of Reach biotech from.. liberated worlds, or N.E.M.O. members who were fighting off their infiltration attempts, and… I don't… Understand how they… Became this."

"Pass. Next question." I shrug. "We don't have good records until just before the start of their war with the Green Lantern Corps. I honestly can't tell you how they became the way they are. My best guess is that they used genetic engineering to change the way they socialise, but that's an educated guess at best. Feel free to go archive-diving if you want to try to find out."

"There must be… Some records of what they were like. If they can cooperate with each other they must have had normal social instincts at one time."

"The Spider Guild doesn't have any moral problem with eating people, and they can cooperate with each other. You shouldn't assume that just because a lot of intelligences share certain characteristics that we all do."

"What about records?"

"Everywhere that had records of the pre-expansionist Reach has long since been subsumed, and in most cases their populations eradicated. The Reach themselves might have copies somewhere, but we've never found them."

"What about the Green Lantern Corps?"

"Didn't bother keeping detailed records that far back. Border locations, yes, laws, yes. Minor points of sociology or biology? Not unless the local Lanterns made records themselves." She looks slightly dubious again. "It's a big universe."

Checks finished, the empty-skulled body is wheeled into the chirurgical suite while the printer starts work on the next one.

"I'm going to try. Try finding out about their history. I just.. need to know."

I nod. "Then I'll wish you the best of luck. I -on the other hand- am clocking off." I raise my right hand to my forehead. "Let me know if they need me, or if you actually find something."

"I will."

I

step out, looking for

Mr van Wyck, whose head jerks up as I appear- "Oh." -and then returns to the door to Controller Jevek's workshop.

"Any news?"

"No. The Controller thinks it's probably possible to get them up again, but it's not easy. Making…"

"Making more is easier and fulfils the same strategic necessity."

"Something like that."

"Can you do anything to help them recover?" He frowns, shaking his head. "In that case, the surviving Darkstars and I were going to have dinner. Do you and your people want to come as well? There's some… Great restaurants on Maltus?"

He thinks for a moment, then hesitantly nods. "I don't know about the others. But I will. Thanks."

 

[Mr Zoat]

25th December 2282
13:08 GMT -6

As far as I know, the Eighties don't celebrate Christmas. No presents, no trees, no carolling and no prayers. But they do mark the 25th of December with a motor parade, followed by a communal feast.

I'm looking down at the parade now.

It's been decades since Warchief Super Bee fled Sac City ahead of the Shady Sands/Redding/Boneyard army. Most N.C.R. textbooks refer to it as the N.C.R. Army, but the N.C.R. Constitution hadn't been signed yet, even if it was clear to all parties that it was inevitably going to be. A large, technologically sophisticated band of raiders squatting on the N.C.R.'s neck couldn't be tolerated, so they had to go.

Unfortunately, and perhaps also inevitably, the attack was poorly planned. The various city states had armies made up almost exclusively of light infantry. The Lost Hills Brotherhood weren't involving themselves and the Desert Rangers were still trying to hold Arizona. Against a raider army which was mostly driving cars and trucks and even had a few restored tanks, they could gradually grind them down but weren't able to prevent a breakout. Thousands of heavily armed Eighties drove towards New Reno and then Vault City, committing brigandage and enslavement wherever they went.

And they finally set up shop here, in Wendover, where they built their new home, conquered some of the weaker proto-nations and then sat here menacingly. Eastport aside none of them are places the N.C.R. cares about, and since Eastport's conquest has mostly just resulted in them paying the Eighties proper to leave them alone it's not really a pressing concern.

Until they started talking to Wyatt. So now it's time for hardball.

The parade is going slow, Thunderbird taking time to wave at his admirers and toss bottle caps into the crowd. Other luminaries drive just behind him, engines revving, drivers and passengers having shouted exchanges with one another and the crowd. Behind that… Tanks. Not final generation American army tanks, but certainly more advanced than anything fielded during World War Two. I'm a little concerned that they're a novel design rather than just a copy of the Abrams or something, because that indicates a level of technological skill that we didn't think they had.

There, in the second rank. That's Wyatt. So at least I know where he is.

Behind the tanks are trucks and cars, all heavily customised. Some trucks are modified with armoured plates and welded-on machine guns. Others have rocket launchers or anti-air guns mounted on the back, and one has what looks like a ludicrously oversized flamethrower. Eighties tribesmen standing in the transport vehicles are shouting and waving at the crowd…

Some of the trucks have bound slaves instead. I spot a few heavily worn vault suits amongst Canaanite cotton and leather and patched pre-War clothing that could have come from just about anywhere. **[I reach out]** but I don't feel any Sky Reavers or Sky Walkers down there. That's not surprising; we only got a border with Eighties-controlled territory fairly recently and they don't have much of a presence near us.

**A song? A song!**

My eyes widen as I do hear a telepathic voice, and…

**Will it join us? Will it sing to the hole in the sky? The chorus is so quiet now.**

That's a Crimson Acolyte. I didn't think they'd all died, but I'm going to need to get on that.

But first things first. Stealth field off, acceleration increased, Ride of the Valkyries on external speakers, prepare to launch flares and skim!

My saucer zooms through the air towards the back of the convoy, burning magnesium flying from the air like falling stars all around me. Some of the people below duck or scrabble for their guns, while others shout and cheer.

All part of the fun.

I pull up, go nose up, spin and then aileron roll into a drop back onto the parade. At the point Thunderbird has brought the slow-moving convoy to a halt and is standing in his seat to watch me. He isn't laughing. And neither is Wyatt.

I level out, put the saucer into a plate spin and fire off a new round of flares as I drift towards the front of the convoy using the anti-gravity system and my momentum. The leadership all have guns in their hands, though they're all trying to conceal it at least a little. I stop the spin just as I pass Thunderbird, dropping to just above the ground and popping the canopy.

"War Chief Thunderbird. Merry Christmas."

His eyes narrow slightly as he gazes into mine. "Chief Krono. Surprised you're here now. Not surprised you came."

"Then you know why I'm here." I raise my right hand in greeting. "Wyatt."

Wyatt guns the engine on his… Bike.. chariot thing, and pulls up level with Thunderbird. Normally that would be an insult, but he needs to be involved in this talk. "Krono. Nice ride. Build it yourself?"

One of the slow-on-the-uptake lieutenants in one of the cars behind them make an ooooh noise. Suggesting that a man can't work on his own car is a pretty serious insult both amongst the Eighties and in Two Sun. Fortunately, I can repair most of the systems in a saucer. It wouldn't be safe for me to fly on my own if I couldn't.

"Did some work. What happened to your car?"

He waves his right hand dismissively. "I drive it all the time. This is a parade."

"That thing's going to have rarity value, soon. So." I turn back to Thunderbird. "Reason I'm here. The Legion's going to be dead soon. The N.C.R. wants to talk to you about the future."

"Ain't nothing to talk about. I-Eighty is ours. Republic might beat the Legion, but then their army is going to be spread out all over the desert. No dice."

"The N.C.R. will offer to normalise relations and recognise your ownership of your current territory. They will grant you the right to travel the I-Eighty in their territory as you please, subject to their laws. And they will agree to begin making repairs to the road, with the aim of restoring it to its original state." He looks mildly intrigued by the last point, and unmoved by the rest. "You could even visit Sac City again."

"So I can visit my own home. Nice. And what else?"

"You release your slaves and prohibit slavery."

His eyes widen in surprise, then he chuckles. "I meant for me. For us. But that's it? Not even a truck load of caps? Nothing?"

I nod. "Nothing. Can I have a quick answer? I'm having the in-laws over."

"Get outa here, psyker. Stop wasting my time."

I shrug. "As you wish."

And then I sit back down in the cockpit, close the canopy and accelerate directly upwards.

Activate target designator. Open channel to vertibird air wing. Lock on to the lead cars, anti-air trucks and significant concentrations of armed men.

"Targets received, missiles away."

I watch as Thunderbird frowns at the sudden increase in illumination. And then I smile as Helios fires a giant burning beam down from orbit, completely obliterating him, his car, and most of the Eighties leadership! Missiles begin slamming into cars a moment later, fuel detonating, fragments of destroyed vehicle scything through anyone nearby!

Then I switch on my own guns, pulses of energy precisely striking anyone who even looks at the slave trucks. I designate a new batch of targets as the people manning the few fixed anti-air guns in Wendover work out that they're being attacked, and only a handful of hopeful shots are fired before the second wave of missiles silences those as well.

As this point everyone who can run is running, crowds and militia alike fleeing for cover. Some try to drive away, but with the wrecks blocking the road a good many are forced to abandon their vehicles and flee on foot.

My Christmas present and bride-price to my father-in-law: the rest of Utah.

"Convoy destroyed. Bring in the transports."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Working Relationship

April 18th, 2013
Morning

"Mitchell?"

My youngest/eldest grandson looks up from the scroll he's studying, distinctively black eyes alighting on my face for a moment before his mouth remembers to smile. He isn't a naturally sombre youth in the way that his brother is, but he is a good deal more nervous. I once asked Pavlos why -after appropriately bracing myself- and he said that it was because he reached his present physical maturity without the years of experience that a normal person would have. And as a consequence Mitchell doesn't have the instincts for social situations that other adults have.

I remember the conversation well, because he then paid me a rare compliment. He commended my wisdom in crafting Diana as a babe, rather than as a maiden. Honesty compelled me to tell him that not making her a babe never crossed my mind, which caused him to smile roguishly and exclaim that I made the decision by wise and well-honed instinct.

"Grandma?"

His eyes move from me to the scroll, and for a moment I wonder if he's found one of those scrolls. Much as I might wish it otherwise, Amazon erotica is.. generating a rather large part of our foreign currency income at the moment, and I'm not sure if it's due to the quality or the novelty. But, no, or at least not directly. It's Hippasia's work on familial relationships. I remember it well, because I was there when the knife-marks which repeat every few inches were made. Hippasia was a Discordian, and thankfully one of the ones who left for the mainland rather than one of those who sacrificed themselves. She entered the cult with that scroll; decrying the female group family structure and calling for a change to what Diana calls 'the nuclear family'. It was ridiculous; she was born on Themyscira. She'd never even seen one.

"What are you studying?"

"Families."

He answers in a relaxed frame of mind, but I see it in his face as he realises that I might be offended by what he said and begins to try to ward off my anger.

"I-. I mean-."

I take the bench next to him, then reach out to put my hand on his arm.

"It's alright, Mitchell. Calm yourself."

Gratifyingly, he does.

"It's-. Amazons have… Mothers."

"And we have fathers. They did not used to play a large role in our lives beyond our conception, but we-. Until Pavlos involved himself, every Amazon knew that she had a father and most knew who he was."

"But if they didn't have anything to do with… Ah, being a father, how come they all know?"

"To… Avoid incestuous pairings later in life."

"Oh. Ah, right." He frowns, his eyes avoiding me for a moment before alighting on where my hand remains on his forearm. Then he lifts his eyes to me. "Did..? You have any brothers?"

"No. At least, I do not believe so. For a very long time I believed that I was my mother's only child. Then Pavlos brought me word of Astarte. I suppose the fact that my memory was altered means that I may well have had other brothers or sisters than I no longer remember." I asked him to show me a picture of her face, in the hopes that it might stir my memories. It did not, though I could not deny the family resemblance.

"And your dad?"

"Ares."

He nods. "What kind of.. relationship do you have with him?"

"Ares has always been an unwelcome presence in my life. I have spoken to him directly on only a handful of occasions, and then it was to reject any of the plans he had made for me or for Diana."

"Because they were..? Um, bad? Or because fathers don't do that in Amazon culture?"

"Because they were bad." I sigh as I call the scene to mind. "He wanted me to carry on my mother's work. To continue her wars, her slaughter and subjugations. He was very unhappy that I didn't want to."

"Was he..? More unhappy because you were his daughter, or..? Do you think he'd have been unhappy anyway."

"Having me as a daughter was a point of ego for him. He was more unhappy because someone he saw as an extension of himself wasn't doing what he wanted them to." I shake my head. "He bears no love for me, and I bear none for him."

"Do you think..?"

And I watch as his fears and uncertainties defeat him, and his eyes go back to the scroll as his mouth refuses to continue.

"Do I think what, Mitchell?" I pat his arm. "I won't be angry."

"Do you think..? You could have had a relationship with him? Maybe… If you'd fought… I don't know, big monsters or something? Would he have been okay with that?"

"Ares is not Athena, Mitchell. Ares stands for the most brutal slaughters. Morals, goals, even martial skill, are second to the slaughter and to humans becoming savage monsters. That is what he revels in."

"You don't think he could meet you halfway?"

"Would you accept a sword that would only cut the skin of your enemy?"

He nods. "Yes? That sounds really useful. You'd never have to worry about causing an internal injury by mistake. And if you were sparring-."

I pat his arm, and he stops talking. "Would Ares?"

"I guess not. So it was just… Be exactly what he wants you to be, or he didn't want to know."

"No, he knew. He took it as a personal insult. I would say that we have a worse relationship than the one he has with Amazons who are not his daughter."

Though still better than the one the Heraklya have with their father. But I don't understand why Mitchell is so concerned.

"I thought that you and Conner had a better relationship with Clark now. Has something happened?"

"No!" Mitchell emphatically shakes his head. "He's great! I was thinking about our other father."

…

"Lex Luthor?" He nods. "I thought that he was your brother's father, but not yours."

He shrugs. "He had me made. I don't have any of his genetics… I mean, I guess my father is Jor-El. But I can't talk to him."

I take a moment within my head to hypocritically chastise my daughter's reticence in the field of romance.

"Do you want to talk to Lex Luthor?"

"I don't know? I know he's… A criminal, and he made me so that he'd have a weapon to use against Superman, and there's… Basically no chance. But Paul tried to.. persuade him to stop being evil, and he thought he nearly had it."

"Pavlos… Is a remarkable young man, but I have known his judgements at times to be a… A little…"

"Weird?"

"Outlandish."

"Yeah." Mitchell nods. "But you know what he says about evildoers?"

"Which thing in particular are you thinking about?"

"You should either try and make them better… Or you should kill them so they can't hurt anyone else. Or…" He shifts awkwardly, then manages to look me in the eyes. "Get a god you know to.. hit them real hard with a giant hammer?"

I still can't stop myself smiling, though I imagine if it had happened to anyone else it would be a smile that Ares would approve of.

"It has been known to work, but I do not recommend it for you. Am I to understand then that you want to redeem your father?"

He nods. "I'd like to try."

I nod hesitantly. "I think that this is something that you should speak to your mother about."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd November 1999
03:46 GMT
Because local time isn't Earth time and goa'uld aren't big on precise timekeeping.

Second Prime Abrax salutes fist-to-chest as Lord Mahes enters the courtyard, followed by his First Prime. Lord Agni smiles when he sees him, and walks over to greet him.

"Mahes! Have you been innovating?"

Mahes grins as he approaches, then grabs him by the shoulders. Then they hug each other, which is… Just about the most ungoa'uld thing I've ever seen. I mean, sure, I fixed the lesion's in Agni's brain when he turned up for the meeting, but that wouldn't change how Mahes behaved.

"No!" They separate, and Mahes pulls Agni in my direction gesturing to me. "I got someone to do it for me!"

"You'd need to." His eyes take in Abrax and then move to me.

"This is Lord Mammon. He has many interesting ideas. We're here to see if any of them are actually any good."

I nod. "I would not waste your time. If-."

Stomping armoured feet sound from the other direction, and-.

"Lady Heset?" I… Frown. I didn't even know that she was on Bubastis. I certainly didn't invite her here. I mean, we're feeding back to Bastet later-. "I… Didn't expect you."

Her First Prime takes up station behind her as she moves to the edge of the observation area. "Lord Bastet asked me to observe on her behalf. She has high expectations for your work."

"Alright then. Second Prime?"

He breaths in. "Jaffa! Kree!"

And out march our training squads, each arrayed in different armour. Mahes and Agni both start staring at the new armour types, focusing on each of the points of novelty. Heset's eyes just sort of rove over the whole lot. I… Actually don't know how old she is, but it's a little surprising that she's as ignorant of military matters as that implies. Faking it, perhaps? Or more interested in the political implications?

I.. suppose that it doesn't really matter. Even if she lies to Bastet, that's easy enough to fix by just showing Bastet my results directly.

"Now, as you can see, this is the standard Jaffa armour. It is included for the sake of comparison. This-" I continue down the line. "-looks similar, but it's actually my recreation of the armour Supreme System Lord Ra issued to his soldiers. Step forwards, Jaffa."

They stamp forward, Ma'Toks at the ready.

"There are several differences between the two." Both Jaffa engage their helmets, lamassu masks extending over their heads. "Ra's soldiers have integrated sensors and air purifiers, sound and light protection. Their Ma'Toks are designed for more powerful energy discharges, though they do exhaust their batteries a little faster."

I nod to Abrax, and he releases a pair of test drones. Small balls with weak anti-gravity drives and force fields, they serve as a decent test target.

"We've reduced the power output for this demonstration. Fire."

The Jaffa raise their weapons at the viffing drones. They've both practiced this exercise before, dozens of times with a variety of weapons. But whichever of them used the weapons and armour, this contest always had the same result.

WOOMPF-WOOMPF! WOOMPF-WOOMPF!

Ma'Toks aren't great against small fast-moving targets. They're slow firing, and the plasma moves relatively slowly.

WOOMPF-WOOMPF! WOOMPF-WOOMPF!

When using the same weapons, these two Jaffa are about as accurate as each other.

WOOMPF-WOOMPF! WOOMPF-WOOMPF!

The chance of them hitting a slow moving target is about equal. The issue is that when the drone dodges out of the normal helmet wearer's field of view, he has to turn to reacquire it. The Jaffa with Ra's helmet on doesn't. He knows where it is even outside of his field of view. In theory he could just point the staff without turning, but everyone found that so counter-instinctual that we gave up making it standard procedure. Even so, he's more accurate and acquires the dodging target faster.

WOOMPF-WOOMPF! WOOMPF-WOOMPF!

Agni looks curious as the Jaffa new helmet quickly acquires a lead. "How much more powerful is that Ma'Tok?"

"Jaffa, shoot the wall. Full power."

They both lower their Ma'Toks and fire.

WOOMPF! WOOMPF-BOOM!

The normal Ma'Tak leaves a blackened scar in the stone. The more powerful version punches a hole, sends stones flying and giving us a view of the interior corridor.

An extremely nervous chambermaid peers around the edge of the hole. I wave my right hand dismissively.

"Carry on with your duties."

Agni grins. "I like it!"

"Why?" I shrug as he frowns at me. "Jaffa, switch."

The Jaffa with the regular staff puts it down and draws his Zat'nik'tel. They both resume firing, and while the Jaffa with Ra's helmet is more accurate, the increased rate of fire means that the Jaffa with the Zat'nik'tel is scoring hits more quickly.

"The heavy staff is more destructive, but against most targets it's inefficient. One shot from a Zat'nik'tel will disable a Jaffa in normal armour, and the second shot kills. We ran wargames where one squad would use Ma'Tok and the other would use Zat'nik'tel, and outside of long range engagements over open ground, the squad using Zat'nik'tel always came out ahead."

"Surely their armour would weaken the impact?"

I nod. "It does." Sort of. It's more that the first hit isn't quite so disabling; the second hit still reliably kills the target. "But it's still disabling, and with the higher rate of fire the reduced lethality per shot doesn't matter."

I point to the Jaffa with the heavy staff, and send him back to the line. Another Jaffa comes forwards. This one is wearing a far heavier version of the normal armour. It's not power armour, but the armour plates are about as thick as it's practical for a Jaffa to wear. On the left arm is a tower shield of similar thickness, and in his right he carries a Ma'Tok. He stands a short distance away from the Jaffa with the Zat'nik'tel and points his shield at him.

"Fire."

The Zat'nik'tel pulses, bright crackling beam hitting the shield and doing absolutely nothing.

"This sort of armour is effectively immune to the Zat'nik'tel. It's also close to the form of armour our armies wore before we learned to work trinium well enough to create chain mail. Switch weapon."

The Jaffa reattaches his Zat'nik'tel to his bracer, then crouches down to recover his Ma'Tok. He fires, the bolts knocking the heavy armour Jaffa back a little but not appearing to cause an injury.

"The downside is that it's not practical to wield a normal Ma'Tok at the same time, and the wearer's agility is dramatically reduced." The armour-wearer tries balancing his Ma'Tok on the shield, but it's clearly awkward. "Combining it with a Zat'nik'tel works, but it makes things a little awkward when they face other heavy armour wearers. They can't hurt each other. But if we combine the two…"

The basic Jaffa raises his Ma'Tok in two hands and moves behind the heavy Jaffa, who ducks slightly behind his shield. He's effectively protecting his colleague, who is free to fire back.

"The armour will allow the wearer to survive a hit from a staff cannon, but they will be disabled by the hit. Thank you, gentlemen."

They both come to attention, and then return to their place in the line.

"The next is something inspired by the Tau'ri. It's called 'camouflage'."

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 20th, 2013
07:30 Exactly

Once, the IRS could tell you that I was the richest man in America. If they felt like being unusually forthcoming, they could confirm my own claim to be the third richest man on Earth.

Though that would only count publically disclosed holdings, and would rely on the lumpenproletariat's ability to accurately determine asset value. The truth is that I am far and away the richest man on Earth, and by some measures the most powerful.

And then I spent two months under the influence of the Anti-Life, as did the rest of the world.

Mercy passes me the overnight folder. I already know what ninety percent of it will say, but it's always worth knowing the precise degree to which the Justice League's takeover has progressed.

Western politicians have been making unfunded spending commitments since the end of the World War Two-

My eyes unavoidably drift to a watercolour on my office's side wall.

-and once the worker base stopped expanding and started contracting, have stuck to currency depreciation as the correct method for avoiding the consequences of their electorate's spendthrift habits. It wasn't a problem for me, as the correct response was obviously to treat money like any other depreciating asset and invest resources elsewhere. My entire asset management system was premised on the continuation of that policy.

And now the world reserve currency is the Justice League Medallion, and not only are they not going to depreciate it, it's backed by precious metal.

Precious metal currency in the 21st century? Widely traded precious metal currency in the 21st century? The banking sector literally doesn't have the skills to handle it. So I have to review investment decisions and forecasts made by formerly competent employees who are suddenly out of their depths.

I glance over to the bookcase at Professor Prokopios' Principles of Finance. He must be beside himself with joy.

Someone might as well be.

Ah, yes. The President continues to be a witless buffoon. I wasn't expecting a great deal from President Knight; his only real virtue was how agreeable he was to doing whatever it was that the last person he spoke to said. The cheapest President I've ever bought, and without any of the truculent moralising that Horne was inclined to do. Making him go in the right direction required not just money but time and attention as well.

I always thought that someone with the ego to dress in a skin tight blue costume with a red cape would refuse to take over the world indirectly. Someone so brazen would never stoop to covert means. Their ego wouldn't allow it. But I suppose that anyone of moderate intellect can employ people capable of pursuing useful methods that don't come naturally to themselves.

Ah, yes, I see that the Medallion is to be treated both as a currency and a unit of precious metal, and the Treasury is once again ignoring the part of the Constitution that makes it clear that issuing currency is their job and theirs alone. I'm a little surprised that Batman is so well-prepared for this eventuality…

But only a little.

The most frustrating part is that I can't do anything about it. Nothing that wouldn't be foolishly self-destructive, at least. The sort of people I would usually work through or with had a higher than average death rate during the Anti-Life period. Of those that survived, a surprising number had a fatal attack of conscience after the… Whatever it was that ended it.

It's incredible. The Justice League used a global mind control effect even more invasive than the one they were fighting, and the countries that survived are happy to give them the keys to the metaphorical city.

The countries that they allow to survive. If I could get a better idea what happened to Atlantis-.

"Sir?"

Otis has a very narrow skill set. Usually I like that in my employees, because it means that they're more likely to stay where I put them. In Otis's case his difficulty in paying attention to social cues has given me more than a few headaches over the years, but in exchange I get a very capable and completely loyal Chief of Security.

Trying to imply that he should wait until after my daily update before trying to brief me was a total waste of time.

I flick through to the Security sheet. Some progress on tracking 'LexCorp employees displaced during the Anti-Life period', but the only one found overnight was found dead. That leaves some sort of problem with one of the top security sites-. No, he'd just have woken me if that was it. Direct instructions he can manage.

"Yes, Otis?"

He pulls his tablet out of his belt. "Sir, we've begun getting applications for summer internships."

I don't have interns working directly for me, but if otherwise intelligent people want to work for me for no money, who am I to stop them?

"We did the usual background checks, and one… Well." He puts his tablet down on my desk and slides it towards me.

I have a fully integrated wireless communications suite, constantly monitored by a completely loyal AI. He has access. He could-.

Oh, at least he isn't using print-outs any more.

I look-.

"Ah. I see. Is this genuine?"

"Details match the fake background the Justice League invented. The next stage would be a call-back, but I thought I should run it by you first."

Match's face stares back at me from the application summary.

Why?

The Justice League has shapeshifters and magicians. As well as the financial resources to send someone with no prior Justice League history. If they wanted to infiltrate LexCorp they have far better options than knocking on the front door.

Given how I'm forced to use their ridiculous currency, they hardly need more control levers.

If it was Conner I could almost understand it. It took me a bullet to finally resolve my own issues with my father, and the bullet was worth more than he was. And since I'm still alive… 'As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool returns to his folly' and all that. But why does the failed project want to visit the company? Doing the ground-work for an eventual cover job? There's no chance of me paying a Justice League affiliate for anything, much less a duplicate of the alien.

There isn't going to be any way to turn this into a way to get him back under control. I'm not going to waste time considering it. Between the loss of specialist personnel and the fact that the League will do daily checks on him, that approach just isn't viable. I don't think that he's stupid enough for a soft-sell to work. What the Justice League has on me might not be admissible in court, but it's hard to square the actions I've been associated with and my genuine end goals.

I take a moment to mentally curse Klarion. I nearly had Orange Lantern on-side! What part of 'distraction'-?

Ah… Sunk cost. Well and truly sunk and quite costly.

I let my higher functions work on this issue while I read the rest of his application. Good school grades, though like his primogenitor I don't know if that's the actual limits of his abilities or just a good cover; intelligent enough to give a good impression but not intelligent enough to draw excessive attention. No, it has to be an act. He's had access to genomorph educational neuroprogramming.

Do the League think that I don't know-? No. Might he? No, this is signed by his adopted mother. He would have had to speak to her about it.

Is it a joke of some sort?

Possible. He didn't have any kind of sense of humor as Project: Match, and none of the intelligence I've received since then has made any reference to one. A dare seems slightly more likely; Robin once sent in an application as me, and I could see him goading 'Mitchell Kent' into doing the same thing.

So in summary: threats? Negligible. Opportunities? None. Response?

"I have no opinion. Do the usual screening and follow the normal procedure. If he gets in then he gets in. If he doesn't then he doesn't. Is there anything else?"

Otis recovers his tablet. "No sir."

"Then you're dismissed. I have a global economy to repair."

 

[Mr Zoat]

5th November 1999
12:54 GMT

Bastet walks along the line of ballistic dummies, observing the damage patterns. The walls of the courtyard are lined with her Jaffa, though Heset is once again accompanying her. And Heset is wearing an… Odd perfume. Surprisingly, perfumes are a common way for a goa'uld to display their wealth. I avoid wearing them when I can get away with it, but I've had to familiarise myself with the work of the leading perfumers working in Bastet's territory. Don't recognise that one, so I guess she's showing off by importing.

"I see that your work has been productive once again. Lord Mahes and Lord Agni are well pleased with your weapons and armour."

I nod. "Alas, it will be several human generations before I have the industrial capacity to outfit your armies myself. Once you have determined how you wish to arm them, I can train your artificers in the production process."

True, but misleading. The Altairan androids are perfectly capable of making everything I displayed, but they're repairing their world and don't really have industrial capacity to spare. Not unless I could offer them something in return that would make it worth their while. Keeping them willing to trade with me at all is well worth keeping the pressure off; I need teachers that don't come from Earth more than my gou'ald allies need better armour faster.

Besides, Roboneil is getting angsty about the Altairan military wanting their gate facility back. If they actually say 'join up or get out' then I'm reasonably confident that they'll take my offer.

"And… This." She approaches one of her Jaffa, who is holding one of my novel weapons. "What is this for?"

"It's a prototype, my Lord. The Ma'Tok's functionality as a ranged weapon is compromised by ceremonial and melee considerations. I was curious as to the efficacy of using the standard technologies in a pure ranged weapon."

"What did you discover?"

I glance at Bastet's First Prime, who nods. "Jaffa, kree."

The Jaffa raises the plasma repeater to her shoulder, sights an unused target and pulls the trigger.

…-whoomp-whoomp-whoomp-whoomp-whoomp-whoomp!

Bastet looks decidedly interested. "Was achieving the higher rate of fire really that easy?"

"No. The firing chambers rotate internally, all constantly drawing power from the battery so that each is ready to fire again as swiftly as possible after discharging. And the shots are -by default- less powerful than a standard Ma'Tok blast. They'll still inflict a crippling or lethal injury through normal Jaffa armour, but they'll be less effective against other defences. And the maintenance complexity is significantly greater. If you decide to make use of the final version, I would strongly recommend increasing the level of training Jaffa receive in maintenance rituals. You would also need to increase the spare parts and fuel cell allocation Jaffa formations receive by about… Half again?" I shrug. "Once I have a final version, I will be able to give you a more precise recommendation."

"What do you suggest the Jaffa wielding it does if the enemy closes to melee range?"

I walk over to the Jaffa holding it, make a fist and bring it down hard on the gun twice with a thump-thump sound.

"The construction is solid enough that it can take some rough treatment, but they'd probably be best off just dropping it and drawing a knife. Or trying to line up a shot; the reduced length makes it much easier to manoeuvre." Hm. "The Tau'ri have an attachment point for a knife on their projectile long arms, but I'm not convinced of the efficacy of that against Jaffa armour."

Bastet turns and gives me her full attention. "You have developed nothing for melee combat?"

"Nothing I'd want to actually deploy." I mime pulling something off my belt, and brandish a shock baton. "I was considering developing something like this for police units. It works as a club, but it also incorporates a low-output variant of the Zat'nik'tel beam." I walk over to a test dummy and swing the baton into its chest. As it hits, there's the characteristic che-ow noise and energy transfers from the club to the target. "I wouldn't recommend it in combat against a peer opponent, however. It was made for riotous mobs of humans."

"And against other Jaffa?"

"I have two prototypes, neither of which are really… Ready…"

"I would like to see them anyway."

I nod, handing off the baton to one of the Jaffa observers. "The first is intended for… Ceremonial purposes more than anything. Perhaps executions. It's… Lethal, but…"

I reach into my robes and take Bastet's Claw out of subspace, then put it on my right hand.

"It looks like a decorative glove or gauntlet, but if you-" I pull my fingers back and push my palm forwards. "-gesture-" 'Claws' of burning plasma extend from the finger tips. "-like that-" I slash, and the training dummy acquires five vicious lines through its armour and across its chest. "-it makes a reasonable-."

Ow!

I wince, shake my hand to put the claws out and then heal my hand.

"A reasonable melee weapon. I haven't got the plasma containment quite right yet, and it's really only good for a few slashes before the small power cell is expended, but it does work."

Bastet is smiling, and from the glance she shares with her First Prime I think that she is pleased as well.

"And what else?"

I return the claw to subspace under my robe, and take out the blast module.

"This attaches to the bracer of a Jaffa's primary arm." I attach it around my right forearm. "It's not particularly large, and would easily pass unnoticed. But if someone closes to close range-" I raise my arm and flap my hand down.

WOOMPF!

The slashed target is visibly charred by the unrestrained plasma blast, as are its neighbours and the wall behind it.

"-you get a single plasma blast. It lacks the confinement of the bolts fired by normal weapons: it is indiscriminate up close and is ineffectual at range. But in close quarters you can't miss and the target will go down. Aiming is simply a matter of angling your arm and by default the trigger is dropping your hand. If the Jaffa is using one of Ra's helmets, it can be triggered using the display."

"Is it ready for deployment?"

"The design? Certainly. It's simple. Anyone trained in Ma'Tok creation can make it. I have not yet fully tested how useful it will be, but if you so desire-."

"I do."

I give her a shallow bow. "Then I shall include it with the schematic package."

"And do you have any other weapons with which to tantalise us?"

"I'm working on a number of things. Guns which use electromagnetic and gravitic devices to fire projectiles, simple explosive plasma grenades, simpler energy fields for defence… The grenades are ready -they're essentially a thrown omni-directional version of the arm weapon- but the others are… Well, they're technically functional, but I wouldn't want to even use them for field testing. And you would need to train the factory workers anew. The gravitic projector in particular would most likely require a minor god to assemble it for the foreseeable future. I… Also have copies of the weapons the Tau'ri use… Just in case you wished to implicate them in anything."

"If they wish to worry Apophis' flanks, they are welcome to do so. It is no concern of ours." I perform another shallow bow. "I am pleased with your work, Lord Mammon. What reward do you want in return for this service?"

I shrug, then shake my head. "Merely the opportunity to continue with my social research. I… Genuinely have no complaints about my position. It is an easy thing, to serve a System Lord who is exactly as you would have her be."

Bastet smiles proudly. "Then I will simply have to think of something myself. It is a poor System Lord who does not reward her Underlords when they serve her well."

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 23rd, 2013
16:12 EST

"…Match, B two five."

And I'm home.

I know Conner likes living in the mountain more than the Embassy, but I-. Don't. I like having people around who can answer questions about things I don't understand. I like living somewhere that's basically a normal building.

A couple of Amazon guards come to attention as I walk out. I…

"Um. Hey."

"Hey, Prince Mitchell!"

Or as normal as I can get.

I don't think she's making fun of me. I'm pretty sure, she's trying to include me. But…

But being in a position where I actually have to rule Themyscira is something that I've had nightmares about. And not just because Grandma and Mom and Conner would have to be dead. Even if they just went on vacation and made me Regent or something, just the idea of trying to fill a role I don't understand-.

"Hey they'uh, Mitch!" Ms. Candy smiles at me as she sees me "School aht alreadih?"

"Uh, yeah. I was just hanging out with the team for a while. I'm… I'm gunna go do my homework now."

"They'uh ain't no need t' gaw rushing raht awf. Y'all cuud spent a littul mowah tahm with Connuh."

"He had plans with M'gann." I shrug. "I don't want to be a third wheel."

She thinks for a moment. "Weyul, maybe she cuud set you urp with one a' her freyunds?"

It takes an act of will to prevent me recoiling. Dating? Me? Some things genomorphs can't teach you. I don't wanna try that for… Uh, a couple of years, maybe? Definitely not until college. I'm just glad that no Amazons have tried asking me out.

"I… I don't think that's a good idea. Ah, yet! Yet. Ah. Maybe sometime."

Okay, she doesn't look happy about that. I don't think she has any friends with kids my-. Ah, physical age, but she might-.

Her cell phone goes off, and she reluctantly decides to let it go to answer.

"Themysciran Embassy, Etta Candy speakin'. Uh-huh." I try walking away, but she holds up her left hand like a stop sign. "Ye-uh. Awl let her know." She's frowning as she puts the cell down. "Mitchell Kent, don't tell me ya'll applahed t' work at LexCorp?"

"Okay." I make for the exit to the residency, but then her hand's on my chest.

"C'mon now, young mahn."

"Did they say yes? No?"

"Front deysk gaht a fellah raht they'uh, askin' t'do a face-to-face."

Huh. That was quick.

"We usually let folks from LexCorp cool theyuh heel fer a good long wahyl." She regards me sternly. "Does you tell Diana 'bowt this?"

"Yeah. And Grandma and Conner. M'gann and Zatanna are going to check nothing.. bad happens to me while I'm there. If they even accept me." … "Is Mom here?"

"She's head'n raht down, and you should too."

I nod. "Okay." I'm half way to the door in relief before I remember… Myself. "Ah, thanks! Sorry!"

She just makes a one-handed shooing motion, so I get out while I can.

Couldn't Mom have hired more guys? I have enough aunts as it is.

Conner said that he found it weird how full up the Embassy is these days, but I don't really remember anything else. People researching Ancient Greece, because the original manuscripts don't leave the Embassy. People doing tourist preparation courses, mostly from Themyscira to New York rather than the other way around, because Themyscira has… No tourist infrastructure at all. People from other embassies, though some of them are just making excuses to spend time with the attractive warrior women.

Conner was right about super-hearing. And Kara was way wrong. Hearing thousands of sounds in a city makes it easier to filter all of it out. It's just white noise. Background. At least it is for me. But once you learn what a guy getting a boner sounds like… The way the heart rate changes, the shape of the pulse changes, and the sound of skin slowly sliding across cloth... You can't not hear it. Even if you wish you could.

Julia's on the front desk, and she points at one of the front meeting rooms. So it's not someone Mom already knows not to trust. I mean, LexCorp employs thousands of people, so it's not like they're all… Cloning aliens and turning them into slave weapons. Some of them are just regular people.

I look through the wall. Mom's whole body blocks the radiation bandwidths I can see-.

I wince.

But she mostly wears her armour bodice around the Embassy like she is right now, after the one time she didn't and I couldn't look her in the face for a week. Conner thought it was pretty funny. The one time he was glad to not be fully kryptonian. The other.. woman, has regular skin and bones. One old break on her right arm almost totally healed, just a bit of extra thickness where the break was. I mean, sure, I can see peoples' bones and hear their heartbeats, but that doesn't mean I learn the pattern for everyone. I don't think I've seen her before…

I knock on the door, and Mom turns towards me and nods. But I wait until she says something, because…

Okay, LexCorp knows that I'm 'Project: Match', but… I'm not openly kryptonian, because… We're all agreeing to pretend to pretend that I'm not? It made sense when she explained it. I guess it kind of makes sense when I'm going to look exactly like Clark Kent when I'm older, and if everyone-. Everyone-everyone knew I was kryptonian it could make his life awkward. But there are Superman look-alikes around-.

Whatever. It doesn't hurt anyone. Other than my head a little. The point is 'Mitchell Kent' can't see through walls or doors, so I pretend I can't either.

"Come in, Mitchell!"

I push the door open and walk in, smiling a little at the woman in the suit.

"Hey, Mom." I look expectantly at the woman. "Etta said we had a visitor from LexCorp?"

"Yes." The woman nods, then gets up and holds out her right hand. "Eve Teschmacher, Business Development Manager. I'm overseeing the internship program."

I shake her hand, because I didn't see a kryptonite ring and if there was one I'd be feeling it by now anyway.

"Hey. I'm.. Mitchell Kent. Ah. I only sent the application in a few days ago. I wasn't expecting a visit this quick."

"We don't get a lot of foreign ambassador's children applying to work with us." She returns to her seat and I sit down next to Mom. "Other than as joke applications sometimes. And since I was in New York I thought I'd come over and visit. Skip a few rounds of background checks."

I.. nod. Ah. "Oh wait. You're not a business development manager. You're…"

"Head of the Business Development Department, yes. If your application is successful there's a good chance you'll be working under me!"

Oh. Right. It wouldn't really make much sense for some random kid to start out working with Lex Luthor himself. Or for them to put Wonder Woman's son anywhere near anything criminal, even if they thought that he didn't have superpowers.

She smiles, turning so that her body faces me directly. "How about I tell you what we do, and you can tell me what you think?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

April 20th, 2013
5 Hours Before Lunch

Normal procedure, normal procedure…

I unlock my paperwork safe and pull out the 'special recruitment' binder. Mr. Luthor's big on computers for organizing stuff, but I've always preferred to put stuff in physical space. I mean, think about it: is it easier to have five or six different tablets on the go or just open a binder and take out six sheets of paper? I keep the electronic copies up to date as well, sure, but I'd never get anything done if I had to scroll through a three hundred page document on a tablet to find anything.

Normal procedure.

I'm frowning. I'd have thought that Project: Match would be getting the full mushroom treatment. That's what I'd have done if it wasn't a project that Mr. Luthor's friends had been directly involved with. Stick him doing retail inventory for a month, something like that. No risk of him seeing something that he's not supposed to, and no risk that he starts acting out and demanding investigations because he thinks he's been excluded.

But there's normal procedure and normal procedure.

Normal procedure for a break-in is that my on-site team is notified. Desk organises an evacuation and the automatic lock-ins, and the active team goes hunting. Whether whoever it is survives or not depends on where they are, what they've seen and if they're armed. But normal procedure for Superman breaking in is a lot different.

We can't kill Superman.

We've got a few kryptonite lasers and I think one of the science teams is working with anti-matter, and those could theoretically do the job. But the fallout from killing him would wreck the company, even if we were acting inside the law doing it. So depending on what he's doing, normal procedure for Superman is to call the police, a friendly newspaper or radio journalist, record everything and remotely flash the hard drive of anything incriminating that he's heading towards. Usually when he breaks in he just heads for Mr. Luthor's office anyway.

For other people with superpowers it's the same sort of thing. Top-tier powers? Don't bother. Hero or not, they're out of our league. Our orders are to cover an evacuation and then get out ourselves. Mid-tier? Depends on who they are and who's on-site. Some, my team can handle with specialist weapons. Other times we subcontract to one of Mr. Luthor's 'special' contacts, but that only works if they're a known criminal or we're really sure whoever we're calling in can kill them. Even if they don't have a criminal record in America, it's usually not worth the risk.

On the other side of things, LexCorp actively tries to recruit people with superpowers. I went with Mr. Luthor when he recruited Hugo Danner, and that was… That was more effort than a potential employee with superpowers usually gets. Totally worth it in his case, of course, but I honestly can't think of a single background check I've done on someone with superpowers that hasn't involved them getting offered something, even if it's not the role they applied for.

When-.

No, hang on, let's check that. On the tablet. Let's see… Background check summaries, superpowers…

Heha! Oh yeah, there was one. Had the 'superpower' to squirt blood out of his tear ducts or something like that. And he had no other skills. Wasn't even worth vivisecting.

But that was the only one. And even after he squirted the poor woman interviewing him, he only got a few completely proportionate bruises. I remember it because he squirted Evans too, and he -a man who once walked three miles after a helicopter crash with two bullets in him- spent the rest of the day muttering 'What the fuck?' to himself.

And so normal procedure for a kryptonian isn't normal procedure for a normal high schooler. Standard assessment here we go. Powers? Very strong. Control? Used to be terrible, but, tablet, call up the up-to-date assessment based on reports from assets in Happy Harbor… Pre-misery wave unfortunately, but it'll do. If he's not a raging berserker now and he wasn't four months ago, whatever was wrong is probably fixed.

"It looks like you're getting information on Project: Match."

I'm on my feet and staring at the door. Mr. Luthor doesn't usually-.

"Would you like some help with that?"

It's the AI. I sit down again. "That's not funny. Can't you get your own voice?"

"I was programmed to respect everything about Alexander Luthor. Why would I select anyone else's voice?"

"So you can be your own man?

"I could, but I wasn't programmed to value that." Mr. Luthor's face appears on my tablet, another good reason to prefer paper. I don't know why Mr. Luthor hasn't told him to change it. "Is Mitchell to be subjected to extraordinary recruitment?"

"No. Normal-" I run my finger down the page until I get to the exact line. "-recruitment, external, active, conventional."

"Conventional?"

I shrug. I'm sure there's a camera in here somewhere for him to see out of. "Mister Luthor said to follow the normal procedure. Project: Match fits all the requirements for being a high value asset. Even if we just got him replacing satellite launch vehicles for a couple of weeks, that's a saving of a few million dollars."

The AI makes a show of looking thoughtful, as if it can't outthink any human on the planet a million times over. "He also has kryptonian hearing and vision. Not all LexCorp facilities are lead-lined or fitting with kryptonian-grade sound insulation."

Happy Harbor… Happy Harbour? Guess it's an old British town.

"No, look, there's a LexFoods farm not too far from there. No special projects at all."

"That you know about."

I roll my eyes. "If there was something special I needed to know, Mister Luthor would have mentioned it. The aim is to make him identify with LexCorp, and Superman grew up on a farm. He's predisposed to feel positively about it."

"Check his file again. He goes to school in Happy Harbour, but he lives in New York."

"Then it's an easy commute to Metropolis, and all of our buildings here are rigged for kryptonians."

"Not for Mitchell Kent."

I'm about to say 'What?', when I work it out. "Secret identity, right. He won't fly over and he won't use the zeta tubes. Clark Kent doesn't know Diana of Themyscira, so he can't justify staying over." I can't help but chuckle. "Princess Diana has two sons who look just like him and share his surname. Do you think anyone in the Daily Planet has joked about that?"

"Not unless they want Ms. Lane's displeasure. Jimmy once stared at a picture of them for seven seconds before whispering 'no way', if that's of any-"

"Hehaa!"

"-interest. Of course, based on their apparent age, he would have had to be a High School student himself at the time he sired them."

"It's still funny. Okay, New York. Marketing analysis. That's pretty safe. No sensitive material there."

"Nothing to put a kryptonian through his paces, either. And while I love data analysis, most humans don't."

I shrug. "Doesn't matter. We already know what he can do physically. I can just copy the file across for the acquisition report. I could probably do it from memory, actually."

After one idiot tried hitting Superman with a sap, Mr. Luthor made sure that we understood exactly what the alien could do to us so that no one risked giving him just cause again. I've seen some shit, but the 'this is your skull at escape velocity' lecture… That was some shit.

"So you want to find out what he can do mentally?"

I nod. "We don't have a good psychological profile for him when he's sane. If we assign him to Miss Teschmacher, she can handle all that during a normal work day."

"Her clearance could be an issue."

"Civilization is collapsing. She's too busy with normal stuff for that to come up."

"You think."

"You can check her calender, but unless you know something I'll just call her now."

"As you will." The hologram smiles, though who knows what the AI's really thinking? "I'll look forward to your analysis."

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th November 1999
08:03 GMT

"…why you need us at all."

Roboneil is making a show of looking over the armoury, but he's fairly clearly watching me out of the corner of his eyes. Teal'c on the other hand is just checking the weapons.

"Need?" I shake my head. "I don't. It would be helpful to have you, and I believe that we could accomplish useful things together, but ultimately you don't need me and I don't need you."

"O… Kay…" He nods his head to the side. "Was… Kinda expecting you to put a little more effort into selling this to me…"

"Alright." I shrug. "This planet has no army. It has a tiny poorly trained militia force. The stargate is defended, but unless I get involved myself there's basically nothing here that can contest a landing or orbital bombardment."

"Because you can stop a fleet on your own."

"Yes."

"Because…" He nods slowly, making a circling gesture with both hands. "You're a god."

"No, because I've got tonnes of super-advanced alien technology on my person." He gives me his full attention. "What, did you think Altair was the only planet I went to?"

"Oh. Okay. That…" He nods to himself. "Makes a little more sense."

"To be clear, I'm not hung up on the god thing. You don't have to refer to me as a god, or treat me as a god. You don't have to worship me, sacrifice to me, or grovel at my feet. But if you take the job then I will be your head of state, and that does involve treating me with a degree of deference. I am aware that you tend to be irreverent, and that's fine in private, but I am running a nation here and my subordinates openly disrespecting me can have severe consequences for everyone."

Teal'c frowns at me. "You are most unusual."

I smile. "Thank you."

He tilts his head to the side slightly. "I am surprised that you are willing to offer me a place."

I shrug. "You are not the original Teal'c. You are not even a Jaffa. You owe the goa'uld nothing, and you did not betray your subordinates."

He raises an eyebrow. "My fellow Jaffa were loyal to Apophis."

"How do you know that they did not harbour the same doubts that Teal'c and Bra'tac do? Did he ask?"

"I-."

"He."

A shallow nod. "He did not."

"He didn't ask and he didn't use his Zat'nik'tel. I appreciate that his defection was a spur of the moment thing, but they were his subordinates and they deserved better from him. If you decide to enter my service and later feel that you cannot in good conscience continue to work for me, you can resign and return to Altair. Or Chulak, as far as I'm concerned. If you have concerns about my behaviour, you are free to respectfully raise them in private -that applies to you as well, Roboneil- but I will expect you to accept my decision afterwards."

Roboneil raises his eyebrows. "'Roboneil'?"

"Are you going to keep calling us 'goold'?"

He considers that for a moment, then nods. "Fair point. Just need to come up with something for 'Mammon'..."

My communication device chimes.

"Excuse me." I turn away from them and head out of the armoury. "Yes?"

"Lord Mammon, Lady Heset has arrived to speak with you."

"She's at the stargate now?"

"No, Lord. She used a ring transporter. She's in the palace."

There's a ship in orbit-. There's a ship in orbit over my capital. I don't think that she's threatening me, but that's bloody rude for a goa'uld. By any normal standard of diplomacy she should have called ahead. Even Lord Bastet would have done that unless I'd really pissed her off, if only to ensure that we had quarters ready for her.

"I will return at once." I close the communication channel and duck back into the armoury. "I'm sorry, but something's come up that needs my personal attention. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves while I'm away."

Roboneil raises his eyebrows. "Because… We needed your permission to do that?"

I shrug. "You might have assumed that I was monitoring everything that happened inside a secure area, and that might have impeded the freedom of your discussion. I'm telling you that you don't need to worry about that. Excuse me."

Where is she-? Right. Transition.

I appear miles away from the armoury, in what was the great receiving room. I haven't done much in the way of renovation to it because I didn't think it would see any use. And there's Heset, her guards and her First Prime who's raising his Ma'Tok-.

I transfer it into my right hand and jab the butt right into his pouch. Then I drop it onto the floor for him to pick up before fanning out my hands and smiling at Heset.

"Lady Heset. I wasn't expecting you, otherwise I would have been here to greet you. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

She slowly draws a deep breath, eyes flickering to her First Prime who has one hand on his Zat'nik'tel and shaking her head. "Lord Mammon. System Lord Bastet has commanded me to speak with you in private on a matter of great urgency. Where may we speak?"

I raise my left hand, making orange lights circle around us before transitioning us to my private reception room.

"Here." She takes a moment to adjust to her new location, then reaches her right hand to her chest... Maybe she's checking that all of her materialised? "This is a violation of protocol, Lady Heset. System Lord Bastet has not lost my gate coordinates. What do you want?"

"Lady Bastet has… Your reward. She suggested that you might find it helpful if you had another goa'uld to aid you."

"Hardly. Few goa'uld would have the perspective, even if they could technically aid me. I don't want to have to deal with a would-be usurper's psychosis."

Oh, there's her perfume again. I really don't see the appeal.

"There are ways around that. Lady Bastet has acquired the service of a goa'uld queen to provide her Jaffa with Prim'ta. If you were to sire a brood, that would ensure that they shared your mindset."

"Assuming that the queen cooperated and didn't add other instructions."

Plus I… Well, I could use my scans of goa'uld physiology to add goa'uld host additives to my blood stream, it wouldn't be mine and it wouldn't have my genetically encoded memories in it. I'm fairly sure that the queen would notice that. I haven't even tried decoding goa'uld genetic memory. Though-. If the Altairians can create memory downloads it might be possible to work something out, maybe?

Heset takes a step closer, right hand rubbing her chest again. "I was… Instructed to get a sample… Personally."

The smell of her perfume is a bit-.

Wait. Scan.

…

Oh you cheeky minx. Pull.

A small part of her robe bursts as the aerosol lands in my left hand. I glare at it, then at her.

"What exactly was this supposed to do to me?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

12th November 1999
08:07 GMT

Analyse.

A chemical analysis appears in my mind immediately. It doesn't mean all that much to me -other than to note the tiny similarities and vast difference to every perfume I've scanned before- but using Am-heh's knowledge reveals that several of these chemicals are quite psychoactive in goa'uld. He doesn't recognise the combination but it was clearly supposed to do something.

Anything odd in Heset's body chemistry?

Ah.

"It is just.. a perfume dispenser. Snatching it was most uncalled for."

"Um-hm. So you would have no concerns at all if I eliminated what is clearly a counter-agent from your blood and then sprayed you with it?"

"I was instructed to pleasure you and this is your response?!" She look around, spots the door and marches towards it. "I will report to Lady Bastet-."

"No." She floats off the ground, gagged and struggling. "You won't. I wonder what it is? You've been wearing it on Bubastis so it's almost certainly not a poison. A narcotic, perhaps? It certainly interacts with the goa'uld brain. Not the pleasure centres, though. Something subtle?" I walk around until I'm in front of her once more. "I wondered why a goa'uld with no record of working within Lord Bastet's domain was granted control of a planet. Is that it, then?"

I look into her eyes, and… Ah yes, there it is.

"I wonder how long it lasts? Since System Lord Bastet currently likes you, it would be awkward for me to detain you. I could expose you to your own chemical, but you may be able to work through it since you have experience with it." Scan. "I don't know, and I don't have the time to locate a chemist. How intact is your host, mentally speaking? I should be able to remove you and ask them, if you choose not to volunteer the information."

That's… Heset's connection points are a little different to what I'm… Familiar with.

Genetic scan and comparison.

Looking into her eyes, the fear has somewhat abated. Does she have good relations with her host, or does she have a plan for talking herself out of this?

Alright. "Shout for help and I remove your vocal cords."

I dismiss the construct, and she lands lightly on the floor as the results of the genetic analysis come in. That… Doesn't prove anything, but it is highly suggestive and would explain a great many things.

"I am an expert chemist. Originally, I sought a way to reduce the paranoia-inducing effect of sarcophagus-use. Instead, I developed a chemical that would make other gods… Unusually well-disposed towards me. Since you are now… Aware of it, I can provide you with a supply in exchange for your silence on the matter."

"You have been a competent administrator. In these turbulent times unnecessary changes in leadership should probably be avoided. If I could use your chemical to win over a few minor gods who would rather duck out of the current war, I might be able to work things to System Lord Bastet's advantage." She looks mildly reassured. "Why did you try to use this chemical on me? I only rule one poorly developed world. I could grant you no favours."

"You are Lady Bastet's current favourite. You are able to serve her in ways that none of her other Underlords are. When you passed up the opportunity to receive a reward for your work on Jaffa armaments, I started to be… Concerned, about my lack of leverage."

"Why?"

"Why? Because every favour she seeks to bestow upon you is one that she does not bestow upon me."

"But I… Passed on the favour. Even when I served Ra my ambitions were sated by being his functionary. I am happy with this world, and with my relationship with System Lord Bastet. I make myself useful because I want to ensure that her version of goa'uld civilisation becomes the dominant one, not because I want something else from her."

She stares at me for a moment, then shakes her head. "You truly..? You befriend her other Underlords without causing friction, you obey her laws and praise their wisdom, your greatest concern is for a world where you have taken her code of law and expended upon it, you deal with 'inconveniences' for her without leaving a trace of your presence and ask for nothing in return. Bastet knows that you love her."

I nod. "I am aware that I am privileged to have her as my sovereign lord."

She… Stares at me.

"And I am glad that she believes the truth of my-."

"Are you joking!"

…

"No?"

"That you love her romantically. Though if you do not it will make my life easier."

I shake my head. "No, I don't love her romantically. That would be ridiculous."

Her eyebrows raise slightly. "You don't feel a brief moment of joy each time you meet her."

"Well, yes, I do, but she's a very easy person to get on with."

"You do not desire her carnally."

I shrug. "She.. does not pick ugly hosts."

"Any of whom you could have taken as a concubine after she left them. And yet you did not."

"Of course not, they're not heeeeeer."

Ah. I shouldn't have said that. I mean that they'd be ignorant human girls who wouldn't be able to be my partner, but from the way Heset is looking at me she obviously took it differently.

"And now that you have my perfume, you are not even considering using it on her, are you?"

"No, I'm not."

She rolls her eyes. "Such romantic nonsense."

"If you've quite finished mocking my romantic-."

"She might well marry you." Huh? "Oh, don't look so surprised. I would be astonished if you had not realised that she is a queen. I had hoped to sire her children myself, but without my… Advantage, that will not occur. So, I will go back to managing my world, you will receive more generous trade terms and a supply of my perfume and I will not get in your way. Do we have an understanding?"

I snort. "I don't trust you just because your revised story is a little more believable. You are one of Egeria's daughters-."

"Along with millions of others. I didn't think that you were married to Ra as well!"

"And the way you've attached yourself to your host is… Non-standard. I had wondered how a group as inept as the Tok'Ra had concealed themselves for so long." I make a show of examining the perfume dispenser. "Now, I know. You smell trustworthy."

She pulls back slightly, looking decidedly less confident. "That is a recent development."

"I weep for our species. Let me talk to your host. I have to believe that they're the brains of your relationship."

Her eyes glow for a moment and then fade, then her facial expression changes. Scan? Oh, that's what it looks like. I'll remember that.

"Is there a bargain to be struck, or will you send me to your dungeon?"

"I don't actually have a dungeon. I don't really mind the Tok'Ra undermining any other System Lord. But I do mind you undermining System Lord Bastet, particularly when that risks my experiment."

"You are genuine, then."

"Yes I'm genuine. Your people are fools for not doing this centuries ago. Any effort you make against Bastet would worsen the lives of every human in her domain." Scan in depth. "So while I don't mind you keeping an eye on us I will not tolerate sabotage. That's in addition to what your goa'uld offered."

"She is not a goa'uld. But… I have no orders to act against you or Bastet."

I'm not an expert on brain patterns, but that… Looks true.

"Then I will make you aware now. I have ways to alter the minds of other people. If I have reason to doubt you, I will make you both my willing slaves before pursuing all of your Tok'Ra contacts. Do you both understand me?"

She nods.

"Good. Now get off my planet."