ExploerTM
Ruin has found you at last!
- Location
- Russia, Perm
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Definitely a big step up from other authors because with them most of the time you wonder "Is there gonna be a next chapter or fic is dead already?"
Brockton's Celestial Forge (Worm/Jumpchain)
- Thread starter LordRoustabout
- Start date
BoredMan
Maintaining the Agenda is our top priority
It's every two weeks on Wednesday night or Thursday morning depending on your time zone.
Your welcome lil bro.
- Location
- Behind you
*rereading a chapter for the millionth time because I feel like it* Hmm, you know, Tetra's ability to connect to other people like she does could also be misuderstood following Cluster theory if you squint at it like the PRT desperately does with some "powers".
Tetra connects with people, Survey connects with machines, Fleet connects with vehicules, the Matrix connects with themselves, Apeiron connects with the Forge (thinks is alternate selves), Lethe connects to no one (being the odd girl out), Kat connects with the dead, and Garments connects with the fashion version of the collective conciousness.
Tetra connects with people, Survey connects with machines, Fleet connects with vehicules, the Matrix connects with themselves, Apeiron connects with the Forge (thinks is alternate selves), Lethe connects to no one (being the odd girl out), Kat connects with the dead, and Garments connects with the fashion version of the collective conciousness.
ExploerTM
Ruin has found you at last!
- Location
- Russia, Perm
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Is explicit SEVERANCE of any and all connections is that odd though? If anything, having someone whose power is opposite of everyone else's makes complete sense given how powers work. Taking a concept and moving in opposite direction is completely logical thing to do in "screw around" type of experiment.
Shards: What if we give this one our original powers, but in reverse?
- Location
- Behind you
Tbh I was going to say that it's her Shard that connects to no one, but I thought I would be reaching a bit too far with that one 😅
Smoky Fart Shard: No one perceives stuff in it but the user.
Social Distancing Shard: No one perceives the user at all.
Btw, am I the only one who thinks that between Brian and Aisha it was Aisha who won the lottery Shard wise? I mean, not counting Brian's second trigger.
ExploerTM
Ruin has found you at last!
- Location
- Russia, Perm
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Given how Triggers work I honestly dont think anyone but Cauldron capes even have a chance to win power lottery. You might break even by getting a strong power but thats that.
No way. Aisha's power without some method of moderation is terrible. Remember; it even works when she's unconscious e.g. from being hit on the head or smoke inhalation or an anaesthetic. Imagine dying in an alley because your team forgot you existed, burning to death in a house fire because the firefighters couldn't see you to rescue you, Or being unable to get lifesaving surgery because as soon as they knock you out the surgical team forget why they were even there.
This Aisha won the lottery when Joe gave her Ren, and she damn well knows it.
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idk at the risk of seeming insensitive and all there are some canon triggers that aren't so bad or scarring. Yes Lisa's had the horrible background to it but the actual trigger itself happened while she was asleep dreaming, Riley's shard possibly due to broadcast doesn't allow her to remember her trigger and erases her memory of it whenever she dreams of it (which is how Contessa set up her switching sides), Purity got stuck in her car long after it crashed and suffered from dehydration to the point of hallucinating and Browbeat triggered on impact when he fell into freezing cold water.
Given all that there's bound to be capes who don't remember their triggers to be traumatised by them or heck to use an irl example the time someone knocked me unconscious I regained consciousness what I hope was only a minute or two later at most since no-one was actually checking on me or concerned that I hadn't gotten up yet with a pounding head but no memory of even entering the room it happened in and have never regained it. Additionally, there's then examples like Dauntless who actually considers his trigger to be a good thing because it let him save his unborn child.
You are an amazing author I love the weekly updates but it your amazingness (not sure that's a word) wouldn't diminish if you took time for yourself again I love the weekly updates but you're allowed to cut back I'd still be here for every chapter of it was biweekly or even monthly
- Location
- Right Where I Am
It is a biweekly schedule. Last chapter was two weeks ago.
Well it used to be weekly and time between chapters kinda blends together
- Location
- Behind you
I remember when the schedule was weekly, the mythical times when Lord would call 15k words chapters "short", say sorry for it, and I felt my sanity slip everytime, as if I was reading the words left behind by some forgotten Old One. Now he calls 10k words chapter "short", so my sanity doesn't slip as hard, more of a fumble rather than cartoonishly fall on it's metaphorical face.
I mean sure but these are also the times where Ryuugi goes oh sorry the next chapter is 3-4 weeks late I got distracted by a new game then binged all the good shows from the last anime set, then got distracted writing a new fic that's up to 50k and a few other things so it's only mostly done.
And so we wait for the morrow to come.
For the tale of "Crap he did a thing" Apeiron to continue and the reactions of several other factions apart from the fabled Celestial Forge that he leads.
Fortuna: Apeiron did something..... meh it's not interfere with the Path.
Random C53: Weld turned shiny again... So there is a limit.
Another C53: Hole up that ain't just normal shine of metal it's shinier.
Another Another C53: Also he's touching metal and he isn't being fused with it like before his Apeiron tier medical checkup.
PRT engineers/tinkers/thinkers/scientists: How does this work. *As they huddle around Lily's bracelet put inside a case with several examination equipment* Tell us your secrets. Give us insight, give us insight.
PRT Management 1: So should we..... *Worriedly looking at the group of PRT's best Brian's*
PRT Management 2: *Shaking his head* No... Yes.... Maybe?
PRT Management 3: So we're not talking about... You know the *She goes closer to the other management staff and speaks in a conspiracycal tone* the recent "Incident"
For the tale of "Crap he did a thing" Apeiron to continue and the reactions of several other factions apart from the fabled Celestial Forge that he leads.
Fortuna: Apeiron did something..... meh it's not interfere with the Path.
Random C53: Weld turned shiny again... So there is a limit.
Another C53: Hole up that ain't just normal shine of metal it's shinier.
Another Another C53: Also he's touching metal and he isn't being fused with it like before his Apeiron tier medical checkup.
PRT engineers/tinkers/thinkers/scientists: How does this work. *As they huddle around Lily's bracelet put inside a case with several examination equipment* Tell us your secrets. Give us insight, give us insight.
PRT Management 1: So should we..... *Worriedly looking at the group of PRT's best Brian's*
PRT Management 2: *Shaking his head* No... Yes.... Maybe?
PRT Management 3: So we're not talking about... You know the *She goes closer to the other management staff and speaks in a conspiracycal tone* the recent "Incident"
I wonder how many Brians they had to hire to actually consider a group of them the best Brians...
I figure your fingers went faster than your brain and either mistyped or hit the wrong autocorrect/autocomplete...
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Gumiho
Reach heaven through violence!
Or Thursday afternoon for some of us...It's every two weeks on Wednesday night or Thursday morning depending on your time zone.
Your welcome lil bro.
BCF update day is like a birthday and Christmas in one!
Nothing will be the wtf joy of the 43k lung fight chapter. 2/3 of a novel for one fight!
Nothing will be the wtf joy of the 43k lung fight chapter. 2/3 of a novel for one fight!
I'll leave it be it's funnier to imagine that the PRT has so many Brian's that they just put almost all of them in the science and engineering sections
They have almost 50% of all Brian's, sadly they can't go much higher otherwise they will have a monopoly on Brian's. This is unfortunate because they've found that Brian's make the best researchers so any growth is limited.
110 Tangential Concerns
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
110 Tangential Concerns
I apparated away from the boardwalk, vanishing in a slight pop and appearing in one of the heavily warded backrooms of Garment's studio. Actually, the entire studio counted as heavily warded at this point, and to a degree that felt slightly ridiculous, even for me. Unnatural skill with stonework, understanding of curses, and the fact that feng shui was an actual thing now, had allowed powerful and subtle defenses to be worked into the structure of the building. The extra wards that defended the expanded portions of the back rooms were probably unnecessary, but it was best to err on the side of overkill when dealing with parahuman abilities.
Like with the wide range of defensive effects that had been used to conceal my conversation with Weld and Flechette. Honestly, I probably could have gotten by just emulating a portion of Aisha's stranger power to get the people on the Boardwalk to ignore us, but that wasn't quite a universal effect. Until an absolute option presented itself, layered defenses were the best choice available to me, even if that could get a bit excessive.
Weld and Flechette had no idea of the number of magical, psionic, divine, and technological effects that had been in play during our conversation. Probably for the best. It was hard enough to get through the points I'd needed to cover without having to add another briefing to the mix.
That had gone reasonably well. I mean, I actually had social skills now, thanks to those expanded Star Trek skill powers. Well, actually, thanks to those expanded Star Trek skill powers I could realize that I'd always had social skills, or at least wasn't quite as lacking in them as I had thought.
Being able to reevaluate your past actions with skills and knowledge gained from another universe was an interesting experience. It tended to highlight mistakes and oversights, but also provided greater context to how those missteps had come about. Suddenly having Starfleet level mastery of Communication and Espionage definitely showed how I could have handled various situations better, but also helped me understand the reasoning I had for the approach I had taken.
I knew what mistakes and misconceptions I had made, but also why I had made them. It was easy to just think I should have done better, and that was probably how I would have thought about things earlier in my life, but when you had enough knowledge and context to understand 'why' rather than just 'what' it definitely changed the impression of how things played out. Understanding why you messed things up didn't need to be a personal failure, and it could provide a foundation for handling things better in the future.
Like I had with Weld and Flechette. Actual communication with people on the hero side of the equation with no massive misconceptions that would be likely to bring down disastrous overreactions. Or at least no reactions that I couldn't deal with. Once again, I wish I had been able to do this earlier in my career, but those communication problems weren't entirely on me. The environment in Brockton Bay hadn't been that friendly for people who didn't play into the balance of power that had been set up. Given how quickly it had collapsed in on itself, that kind of reaction was understandable, if not exactly forgivable.
"That went really well." Tetra said, suddenly appearing in front of me.
"About as well as we could have hoped." I said, not reacting as I continued through the backrooms. "Sorry you had to sit that out."
"It wasn't like I wasn't there, I just didn't become any more there than I already was." She explained. Once again, Tetra's unique way of interacting with the world had its own set of concerns. "I would have liked to properly meet Weld and Flechette, but they were already really nervous. It was probably better that you were the only one to talk to them."
Because I could actually handle that now. Well, no. I could have handled that before I got insanely advanced diplomacy and espionage skills loaded into my head, I would have just been a nervous wreck about the entire affair and constantly panicked over the idea that I was going to mess things up. In reality it usually wasn't my approach that was the problem so much as my concern over the situation and failure to recognize other factors that were in play.
That was probably the most significant thing about those communication skills. It wasn't that they let me take the perfect approach to any situation, because there was no such thing as a single perfect approach. What it did was allow me to be dynamic in response to unexpected factors. There was no universally right way to deal with everyone and everything. You had to be able to understand the situation and other people's views on it and adjust things accordingly. Even then, there was no way to be certain that things would go well, but with enough experience it was at least possible to recognize what went wrong and address it, or at least not blame yourself for things that were outside your control.
"Given what Weld was dealing with, that was probably for the best." I said. "I don't think he knows about your new form yet."
Tetra nodded. "He would have thought I was a Case 53." She said, "A lot of people do. They don't really understand what that classification means."
"It has kind of become shorthand for 'monstrous cape'. They also tend to get more media attention." And usually not for good reasons. Weld's guest role on that teen drama was the outlier of outliers.
Tetra nodded. "I would have liked to see Weld's passenger. Flechette's as well." She said.
I returned the nod. Case 53 and Cluster Trigger passenger would have made for useful data points. Having Tetra connect to them would have made it easier to locate them, rather than leaving things to Fleet.
Of course, Fleet likes when things are left to him. A long and arduous search through Passenger Space requiring the coordination of thousands of ships wasn't exactly a burden in his eyes.
"What are you going to do about Weld's contract?" Tetra asked. "I mean, you were already going to help the other Case 53s."
I nodded. "I was going to start offering general treatments once things had calmed down enough that it wouldn't destabilize things. They'll just have to wait for a bit."
"But not Gully?" Tetra asked.
"No." I said. "I think there's more than enough justification to make her a special case." Plus any panic or rushed policy decisions that were likely to be forced through in response to treating Gully, or from my conversation with Weld and Flechette, would be a bit overshadowed by the aftermath of putting down the Slaughterhouse Nine.
Provided they actually made it to the city in decent time. Which was why I was making my way to check in on Survey.
"So what are you going to do?" Tetra asked.
"Given the kind of reaction I get, there's not much that I can do." I said, "That is, me specifically."
Tetra's eyes widened. "So we get to help?" She asked. "Well, me and the Matrix, and maybe coordination help from Survey."
"Definitely coordination help from Survey." I said, and watched as Tetra pouted adorably. Yes, she could process information at legitimately supernatural speeds, but she didn't have six reports prepared in advance on the Case 53 residents of the city and proposed methods of addressing their conditions.
Well, six was an estimate. Checking the workshop records…. It was actually fourteen, with five sets of commentary from her parallel iterations as part of a peer review process. And two responses from her in an effort to peer review their peer reviews.
At least no one could say she wasn't checking her work.
"We won't be able to completely fix things, but that's the point, right?" Tetra asked.
"Kind of." I said. "I could probably put together some basic treatment that would be moderately effective without needing to be personalized, but that would require splitting focus from the current projects, and given what we're up against…"
Tetra nodded. Fully fixing things, on the order of what I was prepared to offer Gully, was off the table, but the rest of my team were more than capable of managing minor treatments and stopgap solutions, at least on the same level as what Weld received on his first treatment.
"And it will mean we can do something before everything gets crazy after we kill the Slaughterhouse Nine." Tetra said cheerfully.
Normally murder wouldn't be a bright subject, but with the Nine things were different. There had never been a time when a threat of that level had been taken off the board. Some S-class threats were contained or defeated before they could do irreparable damage, but the blight of the Nine's existence had been going on for longer than I had been alive, at least if you counted their years under King. I don't think people even seriously considered the idea that they could be defeated, not anymore, not after decades of them only becoming stronger and more dangerous.
"We'll probably be able to act more freely after the Nine." I said, "Though that will likely complicate things."
Once again, something of an understatement there. I could barely approach people for 'casual' chats in my current situation. After removing a long-standing S-class threat things would get a lot more difficult.
"It will mean interacting with more parahumans." Tetra said excitedly. "So it's good that we don't need to worry about that getting back to Jack Slash."
"Countermeasures to passenger network monitoring protocols have been performing admirably." Survey's voice called towards us as we entered her scrying chamber.
Well, not really a 'chamber', at least not anymore. The overpowered use of extension charms and related effects had been applied as strongly to Survey's observation post as to any other part of Garment's backrooms. What had been a collection of divination tools was now more of a landmark, a purpose-built structure at the center of a nexus of ley lines and focused mantic energy designed to amplify divine divination to an insane degree.
On an elevated hill in the center of the precisely aligned landscape sat a structure of marble columns and daises. An ephemeral figure in a flowing white robe that clung to her shapely and elegant form flitted between columns. Her steps were so light and so graceful that she was practically floating. Sometimes literally floating as she moved between carefully arranged mirrors, braziers, pools of water, boards of runes and tokens, and countless other tools of divination.
The entire structure may have looked a little bit like the Delphic Tholos, at least if it was fully intact and not a ruin. That may have been kind of accentuated by the fact that Garment had conspired with my duplicates to construct divination-enhancing clothing in the form of a Greek himation and chiton, basically their version of a toga. Survey had fully embraced the aesthetic, though primarily for its practical benefits. Still, given the role of symbolism when it came to enhancing powers with the Arcane Craft, her going all in on the divine oracle look was probably a benefit.
Though it was probably for the best that this was limited to the Workshop. Survey's appearance had caused enough of a stir online with just her standard cape outfit. This was the kind of thing that could end up causing a new fashion trend if it leaked. Or if Garment somehow managed to convince Survey to do that photoshoot she wanted.
"So no trouble keeping things quiet during the conversation?" I asked as Tetra and I approached. I'd gotten reports that the information had been contained, but hadn't had a chance to look into details.
As we reached the temple Tetra's form blurred, replacing her costume with a glowing red version of Survey's flowing robe. Survey nodded to Tetra, then turned to me expectantly.
"Uh, no. I'm good." I said.
"Aesthetic and thematic consistency improve the quality of the divination process." Survey said. "While the Nine are active I would prefer to maintain optimal efficiency."
"And I would prefer to wear pants." I said. Garment had worked with my duplicates and provided a complete set of divination-enhancing robes for the entire team, even the Matrix, though use was optional. And I was exercising that option. "Even the base level is beyond our previous monitoring. I'm sure we can manage for the length of a conversation."
Survey conceded the point, though I was half convinced the entire endeavor was part of an attempt by Garment to get me to play dress up. "Monitoring has revealed that Jack Slash's passenger maintains an aggressive notification system that has permeated the passenger network through an unknown mechanism. It provides active alerts to any relevant information encountered by a parahuman through communication with their passenger." She explained. "It is likely that his passenger is somehow intrinsically tied to communication methodologies, given the apparent level of access."
"But we've been able to block them?" I asked as I mentally reviewed the logs from the Final Frontier's efforts in Passenger Space.
"We have." She said, slightly smugly. "Both the network and the passenger in question have proven highly adaptive to interception attempts, but the concentrated efforts of the expedition have been able to maintain information security." Her smile widened as she continued. "Furthermore, attempts to circumvent our interference have revealed additional details as to the mechanics of passenger communication, which had proved useful in advancing theoretical assessments and planned countermeasures to the effect of Jack Slash's passenger on other parahumans."
Meaning the more the passenger fought our efforts, the more it was giving away. In all likelihood it probably didn't realize there was anything seriously wrong, or it would have warned off Jack as a precaution. The level of adaptation did mean that the passenger space expedition needed to stay focused on information control and monitoring, which would slow down the search for Bakuda's hidden dimension, but with the signal subverted and the hostages safe that could be put on the backburner for half a day.
"So we're confident in stepping up interactions with other parahumans?" I asked. I could draw my own conclusions from the analysis, but Survey had been living this problem for days. She would have the best insight to the risk/reward balance.
"I do not believe that incidental encounters will be difficult to suppress, but directly informing an unprotected parahuman of the Nine's imminent arrival may override the countermeasures we have been able to put into place." She explained. "To say nothing of the reaction such information would be likely to provoke from the individual in question."
"Agreed." I said, checking one of the scrying mirrors.
The Nine had been running around making preparations for their arrival in Brockton Bay. As much as they liked to portray themselves as an unbridled force of destruction, there was a surprising amount of caution that went into their approach. Measures were prepared, information was gathered, fallback sites were scouted, and tactics were considered and evaluated. Jack's power might have been carrying them through the years, but it seemed the man wasn't a complete idiot when it came to dealing with powerful opponents.
Of course, thanks to the combined efforts of Fleet, Survey, and the Matrix all their preparations were countered, their tactics were undermined, and their fallback sites were nothing but fabrications specifically prepared to present a false set of security. We were doing everything we could to speed run them through their cautious approach, but even so, they weren't likely to actually arrive until the next morning.
Everything was well in hand, but at the same time it was hard to not be frustrated by every moment of indecision, bickering, and strife that was observed. Yes, they were a band of insane murderers. Without Jack's power tying them together they would have undoubtedly fractured or killed each other by this point, but even with an effect that powerful in place, it seemed that the conflicts still had to play themselves out. Only now with an increasingly frustrated audience.
"Cherish and Shatterbird are arguing again." Tetra said in an almost tired voice. I didn't bother asking what the latest bickering session was about and Tetra didn't seem interested in sharing. Survey merely gave a single nod.
"I will update the projections for their arrival." She said, "Though it will not be possible to finalize estimates until the current conflict is resolved."
I let out a breath and nodded. It was safe to say that any mystique that the Slaughterhouse Nine had ever possessed was well and truly gone at this point, at least as far as my team was concerned. You'd think, given the atrocities that they had been responsible for, that petty annoyances wouldn't really register, but somehow having to play spectator to the worst reality show in the history of mankind made the countdown to finally being able to end them all the more frustrating.
"Anyway." I said, turning away from the various monitoring devices. "I still need to get the other two sets of nanites to Taylor and Panacea."
"The matter of Amy Dallon is being handled with extreme caution and confidentiality, but observations indicate that a conditional release is being planned for later this afternoon." Survey said, switching a few reserve mirrors over from members of the Nine to the interior of the PRT where, presumably, Panacea's case was being processed.
"That's good." And badly overdue. "But actually approaching her will be tricky."
And would probably be the most difficult of the three offers, and that was including the fact that Taylor's meeting was going to include her explanation of the situation leading to Emma assaulting her yesterday. It was possible there might be some gap where I would be able to approach Panacea without interference, but that would take a lot of luck.
And I had a lot of luck. Normally I'd say that fortune energy didn't work on random events like that, but fortune energy seemed to be the kind of thing that drove things to happen, rather than prevented bad things from happening. It was entirely possible that the extraordinary and frighteningly uncontrolled nature of my luck would create a situation where I'd be able to meet with Panacea before I had to deal with the Nine.
It wasn't something I was relying on, but those kinds of things seemed to be the moments when luck decided to go hog wild with unlikely circumstances, so really, it was anyone's guess what would happen. It was definitely an unusual situation to have a precise assessment of the probabilities of various events occurring, and then needing to add asterisks to flag anything that was incredibly unlikely but also exactly the kind of thing that fortune energy would go nuts over.
It was weird to effectively be complaining about 'luck', but for most people luck wasn't an actively intrusive force that drove major events in your life. Hell, it was entirely possible that the entire encounter leading to my date with Crystal had been my luck deciding to seize on an incredibly unlikely opportunity.
I shook my head. "We'll keep an eye on things, in case an opportunity comes up. Otherwise we'll have to deal with that after the Nine."
"That would considerably complicate matters." Survey said. "Furthermore, it would be advisable to ensure all sets are issued prior to the disruption likely to follow the Nine's defeat."
"I know, but there's no certainty that she'll accept the nanites." There was no certainty she'd even talk with me, but once again, it was possible some convoluted situation might present itself.
I'd definitely feel better if Panacea had that kind of protection before things got really out of hand. In addition to effective physical immortality, the healing effects could counter any master power reliant on altering neural processes, and the temporal effects of the mantic cores provided some level of obscurement against precognition. It was as close to an absolute defense as I could issue to anyone, though that had clearly been somewhat lost on Flechette.
Might need to change my pitch going forward, or at least take a slightly different approach to the presentation.
"If you explain things, she probably will." Tetra said cheerfully.
"There is a high level of confidence in your ability to convey the severity of the situation and make a convincing case for adoption of the measures offered." Survey added.
I blinked at that. "Are you factoring my communication skills into your assessments? As a positive factor?" I asked.
"I am." She said plainly. "I understand you may be inclined to hold to your earlier and largely erroneous assessments of your interpersonal skills, but given the impact of granted abilities and the information provided by your duplicates, the extended level of confidence is well warranted." She said as Tetra nodded along.
"Uh, right." I said a bit awkwardly, and not just because I couldn't actually refute any of that. "I need to speak with Garment." I said. A quick check confirmed she was back in her studio proper, meaning I didn't need to mess up the time dilation in the Workshop.
"Is it about Flechette?" Tetra asked.
I let out a breath and nodded. "Yeah." Even without physically being present, it seemed Tetra had been able to pick up on that particular detail.
"Good luck." She wished me earnestly as I departed. I appreciate the sentiment, but I was largely at a loss for how to approach things.
This had been a surprise. I mean, more of a surprise than I was expecting. I felt half blind for missing it, but really, it was more that I hadn't been looking for it.
It also didn't help that the idea had been pitched by that obsessed cape fan at Garment's debut, causing me to dismiss it out of hand. But no, for once PHO shipping theories actually panned out.
Flechette has it bad for Garment. Learning about it through the blessing of Aphrodite while she was pleading for help on Garment's behalf, that felt a little intrusive. Still, looking back, it had been actually fairly obvious. I mean, providing you weren't actively filtering out that kind of thing.
Which was what I needed to talk to Garment about. This was an unusual situation, and not just because of the fact that Flechette's sexuality wasn't publicly disclosed or because of Garment's 'unique' nature.
And the fact that Garment was either two weeks old, or as ancient as the concept of fashion itself, depending on how you counted things. Things only got more complicated when you added in temporal acceleration effects, but given that Garment seemed to have sprung into existence with full competency and maturity, that wasn't the main concern.
At least not compared to the fact that Flechette was a Ward. An older Ward, but the fact that she was a Ward meant she was still in high school, or at least high school age. Garment's existence didn't really match up to human development, but an established parahuman with their own business and extensive contacts across the country was in a very different situation from someone with a trust fund and minimum wage spending money issued to them by the Protectorate.
And everything indicated that Flechette's situation was probably even worse than that. An assessment of her history showed an unusual number of transfers between the various New York Wards teams. Either she had very accommodating parents who were amenable to frequent relocations, or her situation was less grounded. The fact that she had been selected for a short notice transfer to Brockton Bay suggested the latter, which implied things about her personal situation.
At the very least, it didn't appear that any parental figures had transferred to the city with her. That meant that, as the person in charge of the Brockton Bay Wards, it would fall to Director Piggot to act in Flechette's interests and advocate on her behalf. That did not sound like a healthy situation on any level. Not at the best of times, and I doubt there had been much concern extended towards Flechette's situation with everything else that Director Piggot had been dealing with.
Flechette's transfer had been conducted on extremely short notice and had thrown her immediately into a monstrously chaotic situation with what I was guessing were very few sources of support. The Brockton Bay Wards had been dealing with the aftermath of a colossal defeat, with Taylor's Aegislash really taking things over the top. Given that two of their long term members in high ranked positions had been transferred away to make room for Weld and Flechette, I doubted either of them were that warmly received. Flechette seemed to get along well with Weld, but him being lost in the bay and then isolated in containment couldn't have made things easy in the early days. Even after he was back, the two of them were apparently paired with Shadow Stalker, which didn't seem like a pleasant arrangement.
That was a bad enough situation even without taking the gang war into account. Considering everything she had been dealing with, it was no wonder she had gravitated towards Garment. Honestly, compared to the absolute disaster that was the city and PRT during Flechette's term with the Brockton Bay Wards, any social outlet would have been a relief, much less one as dynamic as Garment. It was easy to see why Flechette had latched on as hard as she did.
Which was where my concern came from. Flechette wasn't a child, but she was in a vulnerable situation. I wasn't worried about Garment taking advantage of the situation, but I couldn't ignore the fact that this was a Ward. It added an extra level of concern, beyond just a young girl's crush on a cape.
Of course, considering I had just offered her medical technology without so much as a suggestion that she talk it over with her guardian, I wasn't really one to pass judgment. Still, defensive measures were less of a concern than romantic entanglements, even if I probably violated a phonebook worth of medical codes with that offer.
Despite the nature of my concerns, I wasn't able to raise them when I approached Garment inside her studio. She had a much more pressing issue that she needed addressed.
"Um, Garment, are you sure…" She aggressively tapped on her sketchbook and I let out a sigh. "Alright, what's the problem?"
She tapped on several sketches of Flechette's costume, then on a separate set of sketches of the various forms of the paper sword. Specifically, the contrast between the white paper and blue ink with the deep purple and metallic white sections of her costume.
"I wasn't trying to coordinate, and it doesn't look that bad." I said in my defense. Garment conceded that point, though it was more that my style powers carried the day than the result of any conscious effort on my part.
Which was the primary issue that Garment had with the situation. Just because it was a spur of the moment creation built out of scrap solely for demonstration purposes was no reason to ignore stylistic consideration, at least as far as Garment was concerned. There was a clear distinction between the design of the paper sword and the theming of Flechette's costume. While the striking nature of that contrast had a level of appeal of its own, it was clear that Garment felt things could have been handled better. And was currently planning to address that at the earliest opportunity.
"It would probably be best if you at least pretend that you don't know about this in advance." I said. Garment made a slightly placating gesture and put away the concept sketches for costume modifications based on the sword. I noticed there was another stack of drawings intended for Weld, accounting for the impact the mithril had on his general appearance. Despite her frustration, there was clear excitement in being able to work with the new aesthetic for the two capes.
"Will you have a chance to-" I began before Garment showed me her phone.
A message from Flechette asking if she could stop by towards the end of her patrol, with a single word confirmation from Garment on the matter. Which explained why she was getting the main studio ready, or was at least creating the impression that it was where she did most of her work, rather than the immense area she had committed to her projects back in the Workshop.
"Oh, good." I said. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."
Garment set her designs down and turned towards me with a clear expression of interest.
"Um, yeah. I probably should have picked up on this earlier, but I wasn't really looking for it, and it wasn't obvious until I spoke with Flechette in person." I began. "I know you've been messaging her and have met several times, but… you know how she feels about you?" I asked.
Garment settled slightly as she considered the question. It was a complicated one and brought a rather complex response. Without my level of understanding and fashion knowledge I wouldn't have had a hope of following what she was trying to convey. All the details and feelings of Garment's interactions with Flechette summed up in a handful of movements, poses, flares of fabric, and design references.
I nodded. "Right, but it's more than that." I said. Garment made a confused gesture. "Romantic." I could see that Garment was skeptical. "No, I'm sure. Blessings confirmed it." She gestured again and I let out a breath, remembering some of her earlier interactions with Garment, both in the studio and at the charity show.
"She WAS trying to let you know." I said. Garment made a slightly frustrated gesture. "Because she's a Ward. They have strict costume guidelines. They can't exactly dress for a date if they're interested in someone."
Because of course Garment looked to fashion first when evaluating what someone was trying to convey. To be fair, I knew exactly how telling that kind of thing could be. Something as simple as choosing one belt rather than another, undoing a single button, or adjusting the way your shirt sat before leaving the house could all carry immense meaning. There was a language to fashion, even when you were working with a limited vocabulary.
The thing was, for heroes, particularly heroes who worked under the Protectorate and Wards, they weren't just working with a limited vocabulary. It was more like a video game where you had to choose between four prewritten responses with no ability to add modification or nuance. Fashion was a language, but for Protectorate heroes there was a lot of effort to make sure they always said the same thing, and as clearly as possible.
That was made worse by the fact that Flechette clearly only had the vaguest idea of how fashion could convey ideas and the fact that it was the primary means through which Garment interacted with the world. She wasn't completely limited to it, but taking that out of the equation was the difference between her being able to convey the entire history of her interactions with someone though slight movements of her dress and her spending five minutes picking out a handful of words on a keyboard.
"Yeah." I said as I watched Garment process the 'new' information. It was the first time I'd ever told someone that another person had a crush on them. I imagine this is the kind of thing that most people learn how to handle in elementary school. And frankly, the fact that I was the one who had more insight into this kind of thing just felt wrong. Then again, in literally any other situation than one where the person in question was only interacting in a strictly mandated uniform with clear image guidelines, Garment would have picked up on things long before I even thought to look.
Ironically, due to the costume limitations that Flechette was working under, you actually had complex and dynamic interactions from Garment's side and completely flat responses from Flechette, which was probably the complete opposite of how Flechette was seeing things. For someone who was obviously enamored with Garment, she had clearly been struggling with the most basic level of interaction.
Which could cast some uncertainty over the actual dynamics of the relationship, at least from Flechette's perspective. If there was even the potential for a relationship.
"I mean, are you even interested in this… kind of thing?" I asked.
Garment turned towards me, her posture shifting slightly, then made a fairly obvious gesture towards the outfits on display in her studio. Mostly dresses and gowns, but also casual wear, and everything crafted with an intent behind it. And if you could read that intent, then there was really no question.
Fashion didn't just exist for its own sake. There were some designs that were basically impressionist art on a runway, attempts at style and dynamic design with only the most superficial connection to convention, but for most people fashion grew from a definite purpose. Clothing served a function before anything else, and an incredibly broad range of functions at that.
That was even more the case when it came to romance. Even the most utilitarian cultures maintained specific elements of apparel for the purposes of courtship. The idea of someone agonizing over what to wear on a date was practically a cliché at this point. In a situation where open communication wasn't always possible or socially acceptable, being able to convey interest or availability through fashion choices was incredibly important.
Garment lived for fashion, but she didn't treat it like some scientist making impartial observations and minimizing their impact on the system they were studying. She immersed herself in it, and everything it represented. And that meant immersing herself in life, in human society, culture, and yes, relationships. The interactions would always be conducted through the lens of fashion and design, but that didn't mean they were any less sincere because of it.
"Ah, I see." I said, then paused. And with that context, and some of the specific outfits that she was drawing attention to, it was possible to discern additional implications from the designs and fashion suggestions that Garment had put forward, possibly going all the way back to that first motorcycle trip out into the city. "Um, right." I continued. I was the one who was supposed to be breaking news to Garment here. I really didn't expect for the conversation to end up revealing more obliviousness on my part.
"So, about Flechette…" I said, quickly changing the subject. There was a flicker of amusement from Garment as she accepted the shift in topic. "I don't know if this is something that you want to be pursued, or if it should even be pursued given her situation, or how it would be pursued…?" Garment made an irreverent gesture at that question. I suppose that the physical practicalities were the least of the current concerns.
Garment made some complex gestures and I nodded. "Right." I said. "As long as you know." There was another flicker of frustration from Garment and an indication towards one of her design books. "And yes, it would help if there was more variety in Protectorate costumes."
At the very least it would make things less awkward when they tried to put capes in situations other than combat. That was particularly awkward for anyone who used power armor when they were expected to attend some kind of fundraising event. People in battle suits trying to manage canapes or make small talk with people who weren't currently wearing half a tank.
The counterpoint was that people who came to those events tended to want to meet heroes as they were in the field. If you were paying hundreds or thousands of dollars for a chance to get your picture taken with a cape, you wanted it to be with the power armor, not some power armor inspired formal attire, no matter how well designed it might be.
"I mean, as long as you know about the situation…" I said. Garment signaled her agreement, though still with shades of frustration at the fact that Protectorate image policies had effectively muzzled Flechette during their earlier interactions. Given my own experience with romantic misunderstandings, even if there was no interest it was better to make things clear rather than leaving a misconception in place.
There was no clear stance at this point, probably because, as far as Garment was concerned, there was no clear intention on Flechette's part. I could tell she had felt fairly strongly when she made that request on Garment's behalf, but her situation combined with the fact that she was still a Ward complicated things considerably.
Flechette would be visiting towards the end of her patrol. Garment was excited about the prospect of new style possibilities accounting for the impact of the sword. Blue, purple, and white could work together if you were actually trying to create a coherent style, even though Garment would be limited in what she could offer. At the very least, Flechette was probably going to leave with a new cape.
And hopefully with less confusion about her situation. It was clear Garment wasn't about to jump into anything, but at least they would both be close to speaking the same language, rather than constantly talking past each other.
Which was an odd way to refer to things, considering this involved every aspect of communication other than clear and direct statements. Once again, actually being able to handle that kind of thing, to understand it and being aware of its significance, was still a novel experience for me. Novel, but not exactly bad, particularly since it could let me head off potential problems before they got out of hand.
Really wish that could have been an option earlier.
The conversation was suddenly interrupted by a notification through the workshop network. Call from Tattletale. Given her general reluctance around our daily talks, I was a bit concerned that it might be something serious, but there wasn't any special priority on the call or other alerts from her watch.
"I need to take this call." I said to Garment. "Are you alright or…" She indicated that she was fine. At most mild annoyance at the situation, but at the very least able to handle things. No clear indication of what would happen, if anything, but at least no one was going into it blind.
"Right." I said before apparating out of her main studio and into one of the offices that had been built into the back rooms. Not on the level of my office in the workshop, but still perfectly functional.
I connected the call and pulled up a holographic screen. "Hello Lisa." I said as the image appeared.
"Joe." She said with a slight nod. Lisa was sitting in her apartment, at a kitchen table covered in printouts. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and she was dressed casually in a fitted t-shirt and light jacket.
I could see she was still tired, but didn't seem to be in markedly worse shape than yesterday. There were some signs of sleep deprivation in hints of dark circles under her eyes. They had been left visible, clearly with the knowledge that I'd notice them, but also the knowledge that my manipulation sense would be able to recognize the reasoning for leaving them visible, but would also recognize manipulation of trying to hide signs of exhaustion. An entire feedback loop centered around whether to put on makeup before the call.
Despite the clear aftermath of a thinker feedback loop, the fact that she was holding together was an encouraging sight. Even if the situation wasn't allowing her to recover, she at least wasn't being worn down like in the days after the Ungodly Hour. "You're in a different office." Tattletale added as she took in the image from the video call.
"You caught me away from home." I said. There was a slight tick of her expression at the news that I had a secondary location outside my workshop, even if the level of separation was a little arbitrary.
"Right." She said, "Normally I'm not exactly thrilled about these check-ins, but with everything that's happened I couldn't wait for an update."
"Everything?" I asked.
That did annoy her. "The hostage transfer out of the city. Survey and Kataklyzein demolishing the Teeth and publicly humbling the Empire. Fleet doing the same thing last night with an even bigger conflict. Also something involving Dauntless that the PRT is desperately trying to keep secret while at the same time bringing in every expert that they can contact."
"Yeah." I said, and the casual response clearly did me no favors. "But I told you about that. Most of that."
"About the hostages, and that one of your team MIGHT step in if things got out of hand. That wasn't exactly 'stepping in'." She said.
"What did you think I meant by that?" I asked. "That someone would show up and sternly remind them of the terms?" I saw her expression. "What, really?"
"It's how these things usually go." She said, "With villains it's a lot of bluster and posturing. People don't usually jump straight to going all out with split second notice."
"You seriously think that was them going all out?" I asked. There was a bit of humor in my voice that fell flat when I saw her face.
"No." She said morosely. "I don't, but it does by the standards of this city, or frankly any cape in the country." She took a breath. "That kind of response has only made people more concerned, and they were already on edge to begin with."
"How were we supposed to handle things?" I asked.
"Generally people get a warning when they push things too far so they can back off." She Explained. "It doesn't go from zero to apocalypse."
I shook my head. "I'm not interested in doing a back and forth as people try to figure out how far they can push boundaries. Not when civilian lives are at stake."
Tattletale gave a shallow nod. "I understand, but capes aren't used to hard lines, or at least not lines that hard. These are people who push limits. It would have helped if the limits were set with some give so they could be pushed."
"You mean overreach and then back down?" I said, shaking my head. "No, I already set things to the bare minimum. It's a limit I shouldn't even have to take a stance on."
"I get that." Tattle said. "But that kind of absolutist stance isn't common in cape circles."
I smiled. "Well, neither am I."
Tattletale looked up at me, briefly shocked by the audacity. An amused smile may have flickered across her face before fading back to the tired expression. "Fine, fair point." She said, "No need to leave room for negotiation."
"I wasn't negotiating." I said.
"Yeah, but not everyone has realized that." She said, "Not yet, at least."
"Ah." I said. "So now that they know the boundaries are real, they're going to start seeing how close they can get or, what? Try to drive other groups into them?"
"Possibly." She said, "Though not for a while. After Fleet, no one wants to be responsible for the third incident."
Well, he had certainly made an impression. The statement about 'individual members amending their approach to the situation' was vague enough to cause no end of concern, which was kind of the point.
"I trust you don't have a problem with the decision to step in?" I asked.
Tattletale let out a breath. "No. Would have preferred something a little less aggressive, but definitely no. Especially with Fleet." She said, pinching her eyes shut. "I've been digging through blurry cell phone videos taken by stoned Merchants to try to piece the incident together, but it's clear how bad that could have gotten."
I looked at the exhausted girl on the screen. "You know, you could have just asked for a record of the incident."
She blinked. "What?"
"Fleet has a full breakdown of the entire encounter. If you wanted to check anything you could have just asked for footage." I explained.
She took a deep breath, raised a hand to her forehead, then slowly let it out. I waited for her to finish before I responded.
"I'm guessing that didn't occur to you?" I asked.
"Not the most obvious information source, though it probably should have been." She said, "And it was better for me to use public sources for the analysis. At least technically." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.
"Analysis for Coil?" I asked. "Which I'm guessing is what this is about?"
She nodded. "He wanted confirmation that Scrub would have actually killed the Butcher if Fleet hadn't intervened. Lots of people were hoping he jumped the gun, but that's half them not wanting to admit what could have happened and half are afraid of what that could mean about Fleet's capabilities." She looked to me hopefully.
"You have his number." I said with a smile. "He's there if you want to ask." An amusing thought occurred to me. "Or you could just gossip with Rachel."
That actually got a short laugh. "She's not exactly the chatty type. Also kind of defensive about Fleet. Whatever happened on that 'riding lesson', Rachel is taking it seriously."
I shrugged. "That's her business." I said. "But I'm guessing this situation is affecting the next wave of planned operations?"
"If by 'affecting them' you mean all plans have been thrown out with everyone starting from square one, then yeah, that's about right." She explained. "Both the Merchants and the Teeth are spooked over what almost happened, even if they're not letting it show. Things didn't go nearly as well for the Empire as Kaiser was hoping, so he's dealing with internal politics and there's some serious concern over Crusader that they're trying to keep quiet." She looked up at me. "I really need to know, what did Kataklyzein do to him?"
"He took Crusader's spear." I said.
"I know. Everyone saw that on the video. It shouldn't have been possible, but I'm guessing that with Kataklyzein…" She looked at me expectantly. I just made a gesture towards my own watch. "Right, have his number." She said flatly. "But this was something more than just interacting with his ghosts, right?"
"Yeah. He took Crusader's spear." I said. Tattletale gave me a flat look. "Conceptually."
She blinked. "Conceptually? Like, the concept of him having a spear?"
"Or really any other weapon." I said. "He can't manifest them through his projections anymore."
She took a deep breath, brought a hand to her forehead, and slowly breathed out with a muttered "fuck" at the end. Then she lowered her hand and looked up at me.
"So Crusader's power had been…. permanently? Altered by a high-level trump effect that severely impairs his ability to operate in an offensive capacity."
"That's about right." I said.
"And does Kataklyzein still have… no, don't actually want to know that." She said, taking another breath. "Is this related to the reality warping stuff around your name and a concerning number of other unspecified targets?"
"Tangentially." I said. They did both count as curses, though the use of shikigami was a very different category of effect.
"Right." She muttered, dropping her head.
"I'm guessing Coil is still pressing you on this?" I asked. "Is he why you called early?"
"He is, and yeah." She said, "Officially, we've got the only reliable line to Apeiron, which means Coil gets to act like HE has the only reliable line to Apeiron."
"And you're maintaining that impression." I said.
She nodded. "Trust me, you don't want to know what will happen if Coil loses that sense of control." She said.
Actually, I very much did, because I was almost completely certain that I could counter it with trivial effort and absolutely certain that it would be utterly meaningless if my team got serious. Still, Tattletale's concerns had to come from somewhere. I could afford to make sure things were safe before making my play, if only to minimize the amount of cleanup required.
And I could tell that Tattletale had read most of that from my expression. I mean, I wasn't actually trying to obscure it, and it clearly did a lot to calm her concerns. Except recognizing that I could tell that it had calmed her concerns, which left her feeling exposed and embarrassed.
"You're a lot better at this than you were yesterday." She observed, sounding only a little bitter.
I shrugged. The arrival of Star Trek level diplomacy and espionage skills hadn't been expected, but they were definitely useful, even if Tattletale was a bit thrown off. Though that was probably because they were combined with a manipulation sense that meant she actually had to deal openly with someone who suddenly knew how to deal.
"Dynamics of power growth." I said. "Occasionally I get something useful instead of just instructions for a better mousetrap."
"That's a cute reference, but I can't help but feel like everyone else counts as the mouse in that analogy." She said before shaking her head. "Well, the mice are scared and trying to figure out what's happening next. Coil had plans, but they're out the window now. That's why he's pressing for analysis and assurance."
"Assurance about me?" I guessed. Tattletale nodded. "What kind of assurances?"
"Mostly that you aren't mounting any major operations. You or any of your team." She explained.
"Everything we've done has been reactionary, and in response to the terms we set at the summit." I said.
"Yeah, but reactions can go a long way." She said.
I nodded. "I'm guessing this is less about his own peace of mind and more about being able to offer some level of assurance to the other gangs who might have decided to be a little more conservative in their approach to the situation." Which was kind of my intention, but clearly didn't line up with whatever Coil had been planning. "Assurances that would let whatever plans Coil had brewing get back on track after my team managed to derail them."
"Cynical, but not wrong." She said, "Cautious and conservative gangs weren't really something anyone saw coming. Even with assurances, it's going to set things back."
An anxious expression played across her face. She was aware of how displaying her emotions could be seen as manipulation, but would be less manipulative than pretty much anything else she could try. Once again, I was treated to the sight of Tattletale tying herself in mental knots before just pushing forward.
"This is going to set things back for me as well." She said, "It's going to take longer to get brought fully onboard, longer to confirm things. This will push the schedule by days, at least."
"Alright." I said.
Tattletale froze, then looked up at me. "Alright? With how much you were pressing me on this?"
"Yeah." I said. A quick link to the Final Frontier confirmed that no part of this had a chance of getting back to Jack's passenger. Still, I kept things as vague as I could. "I'll be busy with an unrelated matter for the next couple of days, so the delay's no problem."
"You'll be busy." She said, "Busy for a couple of days. Do I have to point out how terrifying that is?"
I raised an eyebrow. "I figured you'd be happy to get a bit of a grace period."
"Not in exchange for something you consider to be a priority. Which I'm guessing I don't even want to know about?" She asked. The idea of not wanting to know something sounded alien to her, but that didn't seem to affect her conviction on the matter.
"Not if you want to stay at our current level of collaboration." I said. She took a breath and leaned back in her chair in response to the implication. "Your choice, but some of the stuff I'm working on needs strict information controls. Stricter than what's possible with our current relationship."
"Thanks, but given the choice, I think I'd rather stay independent." She said quickly. There was a particular emphasis on the word 'choice'. I nodded and she visibly relaxed. "Just, whatever this is, you have it under control?"
"Very much so." I said confidently, something she clearly picked up on.
"Right. Taking your word for that. And hopefully won't lose too much sleep over it." She muttered.
There wasn't much I could offer in the way of assurances, not when even thinking about the scale of what was coming up would only create more stress.
"Collaboration arrangements still stand." I said. "We just aren't expanding them."
"I know." She said, and once more shadows of exhaustion passed across her face. "I reviewed her information about the… situation in New York."
I nodded. "Take it you weren't aware of that?"
She shook her head slowly. "No. It's an outlier. A significant outlier, but it explains some things."
That specific contingency, the S-class threat waiting to happen, with built in epidemic and trump-based protocols, had just gotten more complicated. The fact that the Travelers had left forty dead bodies in their wake, or more concerningly the lack of forty dead bodies, definitely painted them in a different light.
Plus, Survey's analysis didn't stop with police reports and news articles. Tattletale had a full breakdown of the situation of every disappearance, as well as several other missing persons who she suspected to have been involved. Tattletale was fairly jaded as a villain, but everyone had limits and I doubted even she could dismiss this.
"Is it going to be a problem?" I asked, as if the loss of forty people in one night could be considered a minor incident.
"It will complicate things. This situation is more volatile than I thought, so please, let me handle it." She pleaded.
"Still?" I asked.
She nodded. "It's contained. Will stay contained, at least for a while." She held up her watch. "If I can get a scan we can be sure of any countermeasures. Until then, let me handle this."
"Alright." I said. At the very least I had enough on my plate for the moment. "Anything else?"
"Not relating to Coil." She said, "But I'm guessing you know about what happened to Taylor?"
I nodded. "The watch picked up the attack."
"Makes sense." She said, "You didn't interfere?"
"Checked in with her. Offered some advice and technical help, but it's connected with what happened to her back in January." I explained.
"Yeah, that…" Tattletale paused. "You really don't know what happened to her." It wasn't a question, more a statement of mixed amazement and exasperation.
"Some of my team does, but I've been specifically avoiding looking into it." I said. "Taylor wanted to be able to explain things herself. We're meeting later today to go over things."
"Ah." She said in response. I raised an eyebrow at the stilted reaction and she continued. "What happened was bad. Really bad. Given everything with Taylor…"
"You're worried about how I'll react." I said. Which in itself was concerning as to how bad this was.
"I think it's a reasonable concern." She said, "So I guess if the sky splits open this afternoon, I'll at least know why."
I took a breath. "No matter how bad this is, if Taylor wanted that kind of help with it, she would have asked already." She gave me a skeptical look. "I can't promise I'll stay out of this, but I'm going to try to handle things in a reasonable manner."
"Well, that's something." She said.
I shrugged. "What did Taylor tell you about the attack?" I asked.
"She didn't have to tell me anything." She said, "By the time we spoke, I'd already seen the video." I raised an eyebrow. "Taylor is internet famous."
"Seriously?" I'd been deliberately avoiding that kind of media, seeing as it was almost certainly going to contain some context to what happened in January. I knew the video had spread beyond the students at Winslow, but I didn't have a good sense of how far it had gone.
Tattletale nodded. "It hit a lot of buttons for the current state of the city. Also tears down the bitchy girl, and everyone likes seeing that. Helped that she was scheduled for the event before she bailed."
"How's Taylor dealing with this?" I asked.
"She's mortified." Tattletale said smartly. "Her father made a statement about not speaking on the matter and she's been hiding at home while people make edits of the video set to music or other stuff."
"I see." I said. It made sense, given how improbably well shot it was and how well it happened to frame Taylor. This really wasn't something I saw coming.
"Wait." Tattletale said. "You leaked that video? Hacked and leaked the video? That's what you consider technical help?"
"Given what the school was trying to pull, it seemed reasonable." I explained. "Didn't anticipate it going this far."
"Right." She said, "And probably a lot further."
"You're still worried." I said.
She let out a breath. "Just promise me you won't burn the city down over what she tells you." I raised an eyebrow. "Seriously."
"I promise. No arson sprees." I said flatly. "Though I'm guessing we're going to have some interesting things to cover at our next check in."
"As long as they don't involve a gang war, I can live with that." She said.
"That I can promise." I said confidently. If anything, my confidence proved to be another point of concern for Tattletale.
"Right." She said, not quite stifling a yawn that I could tell was actually authentic and not an effort to convey the level of stress she was under, though she recognized that it did convey as much and wasn't particularly happy about the manipulation through non-manipulation strategy she was locked into. "I think that's enough terrifying revelations for one day. I'll check in tomorrow for more looming terror and existential dread."
"Sure." I said as I rolled my eyes. "Though like I said, you can check in with the rest of my team if you need to."
"No thank you." She said sharply. "One point of contact is more than enough for me. I don't think I could handle a full discourse. And something tells me that a chat with Survey wouldn't go particularly well."
"She's not that bad." I protested.
"She sent five gigabytes of supporting data for a ten-page report." Lisa said flatly.
"She likes to be thorough." I replied. Now it was Lisa's turn to roll her eyes. Somehow I doubted she was used to that level of analysis, at least not from anyone else, and her own assessments probably weren't quite so meticulously documented.
We closed out the call, which did manage to cross off another item from my rather crowded schedule for the day. And raised some concerns about the upcoming talk with Taylor. That was primarily about getting her the nanites, but from the sound of things the breakdown of her situation at school was likely to be fairly serious. I'd like to think that if it had been critical she would have asked for help, but considering this was Taylor there was a decent chance she had stubbornly decided to handle everything on her own despite my earlier offers of help.
Well, help for everything but more weaponry, which seemed like the only things she would have actually requested if it had been on the table. At least the nanites I was handing out were thoroughly limited to healing, and there was only so far that regeneration could be weaponized.
I was distracted from my long-term concerns over Taylor's violent abuses of my technology by a sense of movement from the Celestial Forge. The slow rotation of the constellation had resulted in three missed connections since I had acquired Workshop grocery delivery, with two of those landing on the Toolkits constellation which only held a single oversized mote. Which meant that this connection was coming in with an amount of reach sufficient to secure any of the remaining motes in the constellations.
The Knowledge constellation swung towards me and I felt a connection to one of the large motes. It dislodged and descended towards me like a burning sun, washing over me as new knowledge and understanding flowed into my mind.
And I understood. The shadows of the past blazed a trail to the future, extending to the heavens. Looking backwards, the ruins and remains of a great people that had been lost to time created a map, a guide for how their greatest works could manifest.
The power was called Xenoarcheaologist. It gave me an incredible understanding of ancient civilizations, but that was just the foundation for the real effect of the power. Through the effect of Xenoarcheaologist, my understanding of past civilizations improved my understanding of alien technology. The connection of the two unrelated fields sounded like something out of an ancient aliens conspiracy theory, probably because it was. Or at least it was in whatever world this power originated from.
This power was from a version of Earth where aliens definitely built the pyramids. I could understand that, how the ancient structures integrated into their technology and how other alien technology could be discerned from the same principles, no matter how convoluted the connection between archaeology and xeno-engineering was.
I could also recognize the lack of that connection, at least in this world. I was on a planet where the pyramids were not alien landing pads, but I also knew that they could have been, and what that would say about the nature of the alien ships and the technology they would use.
At least in vague terms. The power didn't actually give me any direct technical knowledge, just the capacity to easily discern it through casual investigation. Just observing a piece of alien technology or an example of their scientific principles was enough for me to gain information on the underlying principles and operations, and actually interacting with the technology massively accelerated the process.
It was a major power that was entirely focused on reverse engineering alien tech, though through a seriously obtuse method. That didn't change the fact that it was incredibly powerful, allowing me to discern the purpose of any piece of tinker tech with nothing but a glance and fully understanding the operational principles, to the point of replication and improvement, with nothing but a brief examination of the device in question.
It was 'limited' to alien technology, but that was significantly less limiting than it could be, considering what I was working with. Particularly considering that passenger space was effectively an immense semi-virtual environment constructed to facilitate the operation of passengers, who themselves were effectively biomechanical constructs of alien origin.
And that was just parahumans. Any examples of alien technology or science available to me could be just as easily deciphered. Ironically, that included the mechanics behind life fiber clothing. This power would have allowed me to bypass the need for the Tailoring ability and work out the creation of Kamui from first principles. Even now, it could easily fill in any gaps that had been left in that knowledge base, but that was just the start.
It also extended to the technorganic cores of the Zoids, a good deal of my element zero based equipment, certain select designs present in the mental schemas of Techno Fixer, Armourer, and Weaponsmith, various pieces of technology from Star Wars and Halo, and all Transformers tech, including the Cybertronian Forge itself.
But, of course, for the biggest impact you had to circle back to the Prismatic Laboratory. Everything in that place, from the colors to the creatures to the souls, amber, and burning sigil, was unmistakable eldritch, but it wasn't erratic. Or not completely erratic. Right from the start it was clear that they all followed some kind of twisted logic, a science unlike any conventional field of study.
Now it was clear. The science wasn't just unconventional, it was fully alien. Alien, but strongly linked to the ancient past. Not in the same way the pyramids could have been, but not entirely different either. Through Xenoarcheaologist I could see how the practices of an ancient world, of cities before recorded history, shaped, and wielded the forces that were now present in that laboratory. Every impossible aspect was a core piece of some field of study or meticulous art, and I could see how all that insanity fit together to create something that was almost logical.
And it was all alien. All from aliens. Not only were the impossible colors the result of alien scientific principles, the same effect could be found in the burning letters and even the vital essence contained in amber. Squid people actually turning out to be aliens wasn't that surprising, but the fact that the burning sigils from hell also counted seemed to indicate something rather strange about that universe's version of devils.
Regardless, it was another point of advantage towards being able to use those elements to deal with Jack's influence, and a fairly major advantage at that.
I reached out to my duplicates mentally. The time dilation made that difficult, but it was still possible to get updates.
"Yeah, it's already helping with Aisha's work." My first duplicate transmitted. "So no need to come in and throw off the temporal acceleration."
It was said with good humor, and I could understand the frustration of effectively having to suffer through random shifts in the flow of time whenever I needed to duck into the workshop for a minute.
"Work's coming along with the other abilities as well." My second duplicate added. "Well, not the insult power, but that's more of a specialized application."
Unleash the Snark. It was one of three free powers that came bundled with Xenoarcheaologist. Some of the 'free' powers that I've received have been disproportionately powerful, but enhanced proficiency with insults wasn't going to make the top ten. It was an amusing power, but kind of overshadowed by the other two.
Toxicology Reports was a power that altered my body, placing traces of an alien metal called Naquadah in my bloodstream. It was a material with the ability to amplify energy through complex effects related to higher level physics. You needed substantial quantities of high purity to produce significant amounts of power, but the traces in my blood were enough to begin the feedback loop, allowing Naquadah based technology to be operated.
The traces in my blood weren't large enough to siphon or concentrate into any meaningful quantity, but they were enough to provide a complete model for how Naquadah functioned, which was more than enough to begin fabricating it. It could be replicated with some difficulty, transmuted somewhat more easily, or one of my duplicates could just write a short script using the eight trigrams and transform a slab of granite into a massive quantity of high-grade alien metal.
Which was enough to open up applications of the final free ability that I had received. Round Telephone was a power that granted the skills needed to operate a specific piece of Naquadah based technology. One with an eclectic and archaic interface based on symbology corresponding to advanced scientific concepts of celestial navigation. The connection between ancient principles and advanced alien technology made it the archetypical example of what Xenoarcheaologist was designed to decipher. An ancient piece of alien technology capable of generating stable wormholes between star systems.
I knew how to operate a Stargate. How to decipher the interface and use it to travel from one world to another. Unfortunately, that was all I knew. I knew what the device looked like, how to operate it, and what function it served, but I had no clue to the actual internal processes save that they involved significant amounts of high grade Naquadah and were capable of transporting people and materials thousands of light years in a single step.
It was like asking someone who had only been taught how to use a tablet computer how the device functioned. They knew how to turn it on, what icons to push to get the needed effect, and even some minor troubleshooting, but had no understanding of the computer science that made the device possible. The only thing that they could be sure of was that it was possible.
And this was possible. To be fair, with Cybertronian Space Bridges, interstellar wormhole travel wasn't impressive, but the robustness, resilience, and ease of use a gate network could provide made it worth exploring. It would need to be developed from the ground up, but it was possible to conduct the research and testing within the Spiritron Core, allowing full abuse of its temporal acceleration stacked with what the Workshop was capable of.
A whole new field of physics allowing instantaneous interstellar travel, and it was basically a side project for me. A minor point of interest for the purposes of recreating a device from another universe that I had vague operational experience with. Not something world shattering, but something that could be explored and analyzed for possible integration into other projects.
But something that was very much secondary to immediate concerns.
"Naquadah has the potential to be big." My second duplicate continued. "Especially after we get a chance to imbue the material."
No question there. Energy amplification was a big deal, and would only get bigger as my various forging techniques improved the properties of the material, but with the Volcano I could imbue aspects of one material into another. The energy generation properties of Ragnite added to Naquadah's energy amplification could be huge. Or Naquadah added to Ragnite, or any other naturally energetic material.
Xenoarcheaologist was an incredible power, and one that opened thousands of opportunities for research and advancement, but they were just that. Opportunities. Naquadah was something that had immediate benefits that could be rolled out across the entire workshop. Particularly with the Matrix's interest in what would happen if it was imbued into a Mantic Core.
"We've got this covered for now." My first duplicate transmitted through our connection. "You know, seeing as we don't have a handy version of Flechette's striker power to experiment with."
I could hear the bitterness in their words, and it made me smile. Having seen Flechette fully charge the sword with her power, I could recreate it with my Dark Slayer projections and potentially eventually recreate it through runic enchantments. What's more, as a paper sword with elemental aspects, it could reconfigure and shift form, letting me form it into just about any configuration. Add in the fact that it was made out of blue demonic energy, and there were decent odds that no one would realize it was a recreation of the weapon I had given to Flechette.
Well, no one but high-level thinkers, who would almost certainly be looking into any substantial display of power on my part.
"The next set of duplicates will be able to project it." I transferred back. "Until then you could always use March's sword."
I could actually feel the psionic imprint of outrage through both of my duplicate's responses. We all felt largely the same way about March's stupid mall kiosk sword that had almost been used to kill me. Having another source of that striker power was an immense relief, particularly since it was connected to some actually decent craftsmanship. Well, garbage by my standard, but miles above mall ninja store wall-hanger weapons.
I projected a version of Flechette's sword, charged with a 'lesser' version of her power. It was similar to March, but the effect needed to unfold through space, rather than build like a fuse. That was actually the limiting factor for my reduced version.
Flechette needed time to 'charge' an item with her power before she could use it. The process actually involved extending the item through countless universes while severing it from any number of physical laws and effects. For Flechette that was usually friction and gravity, allowing her to fire her shots without any drop off or concern for air resistance or wind.
My lesser version took longer to unfold to full power and wasn't capable of ignoring as many physical laws. There was also a timing aspect that I hadn't fully considered before. Flechette typically timed the duration of her power's effect, allowing her to fuse her bolts with other objects. The thing was, that duration wasn't optional. The process of unfolding an object put it on a timer. There was only so long that kind of power could be maintained before it snapped back.
In all likelihood that was some kind of power conservation mechanism. There were truly insane amounts of power being extended in even the most minor expression of March or Flechette's power, but from the look of things almost all of that energy was recovered. The only expenditure was whatever was actually needed for it to overcome the defense of whatever was hit.
Normally that would be a rounding error in the scale of energy being used, but I couldn't help but wonder if the attack March used on me was actually a considerable exertion on the part of her passenger. Not enough to stop the blasts, but enough to present an unwelcome bill for her efforts. Exactly how much power had it taken to blow though that much flesh with the durability of magically enhanced divine metal? Probably a lot more than her passenger was expecting.
The point was, just because I had a copy of Flechette's power didn't mean I had an unstoppable sword that I could use to annihilate everything in my path. The sword needed to be charged up, unfolding to its full potential, and was only able to hold that effect for a brief moment. Of course, a moment was all you needed to absolutely devastate your target, but it was still a little disappointing.
I'd be able to improve the effect through study and practice, but that would have to wait until the next set of duplicates were able to manifest their own version. In the meantime, I happily transferred my own experiences with how incredible the sword was and how much better it was to emulate than March's stupid prop blade.
Based on their reactions, I was probably lucky that my awareness of the contents of the Workshop meant they couldn't hide any more surprise projects for me to discover at a later date.
"Any more project updates?" I asked, letting the projected paper sword disperse into blue demonic energy.
"Things are looking good on the Prismatic Laboratory's front." The First Duplicate transferred back. Every exchange was slowed down from my side and accelerated for them, with lengthy pauses between my replies. Still, that was better than holding up work. "This might actually be the way to go to deal with Jack."
"Of course, Fleet thinks we should just build a Big and let that handle it." The second added.
"A Megadeus?" I asked. Well, a Megadeus Big, which was a whole different beast from the 'basic' designs of giant robots from my Valuable Memories powers.
"Technically, it could deal with this kind of thing. Particularly since we're talking about memories." The duplicate responded.
"It could but this is…" I trailed off. Technically this was something I'd been capable of since just before the Ungodly Hour. But there was a reason I'd stayed away from that technology.
The term 'Megadeus' wasn't much of an exaggeration when it came to the type of giant robots that I'd learned how to build from my Valuable Memories powers, but Bigs were a class beyond even them. They were god machines with extremely complex abilities and natures that could be best described as 'temperamental'. At full power they were basically reality engines, but that kind of power came at a cost. It wasn't the kind of thing you treated lightly.
But then again, neither were impossible colors or burning sigils of reality. Neither were Superweapon projects that required entire passengers as components. Nor were global curses, parahuman network subversions, psionic interventions in the collective unconscious of humanity, or any of the other desperate and insane methods that had been proposed for countering decades of parahuman brainwashing by Jack Slash's shard.
Building a Big could go very wrong. It was tampering with incredible forces beyond mortal comprehension, but that wasn't exactly an unusual state of affairs for my team. And at this point, I really couldn't afford to take any options off the table.
I hadn't expected to be lining up another major crafting project this soon, but I was doing fairly well on Spiritual Energy. Even intense conversations counted as the kind of interactions I needed to recharge. Though I sincerely doubt Director Armstrong, Weld, or Flechette expected me to end up using the spiritual energy from our interactions to build a thirty-meter-tall god machine.
"Tell Fleet we'll look into it." I said.
And then Fleet was next to me in the office. I could actually follow his accelerated movements, but even so, as a fully divine construct he moved impossibly fast. And that wasn't exactly hyperbole.
"That is excellent news." He said. "I believe the Matrix would be interested in assisting with the work as well."
"I would." They transmitted through the network. "And given the scope and nature of the project, there is considerable enthusiasm from the machine spirits and skulls of the Laboratorium."
"I'll bet there is." I said, leaning against the desk of the office. There had been no shortage of enthusiasm on that front, and no shortage of disappointment that my low rank as a Enginseer tech priest meant I was unable to perform or unaware of certain rites and rituals.
Their primary concern was the fact that the workshop's various Questor Imperialis had no knightley houses attributed to them. Of course, as a 'mere' Enginseer, I didn't have the authority to imbue new knightly houses. What authority I did have was mostly connected to being the techpriest in charge of a major facility, rather than my own personal rank. It also created some difficulties with the various Kerbals who wanted very much to join the Adeptus Mechanicus, but were effectively locked at the rank of aspirant until we figured out some workaround.
"I'm willing to look into this, but will need more time to evaluate our options. And I'd want to hold off at least until the next set of duplicates." I explained.
"Understandable." Fleet said with a slight nod. "Currently, efforts are primarily being focused using the more recent power to analyze how passengers operate."
He opened a link, the data feed from the Final Frontier, where my duplicates were using Xenoarcheaologist to grab whatever insights they could from Passenger Space. Specifically, the more active a passenger was, the more Xenoarcheaologist could tell us about how they functioned.
In fact, if someone were to invoke fundamental operational responses from a passenger, like the kind you saw from a trigger, or a trigger-like response to a serious disruption, then that would provide an incredible opportunity to analyze the dynamics of passenger space and that passenger in particular. Enough to help with any parahuman who might be connected to the passenger in question if they happened to be dealing with any particular power issue.
"That's interesting. And potentially useful." I smiled at Fleet. "I think it's time to inform Gully of the contract that's been awarded on her behalf."
Jumpchain abilities this chapter:
Xenoarcheaologist (Stargate SG-1) 600:
For whatever reason, understanding the civilizations of old means you're able to understand alien technology a lot better. You may not know everything off the bat, but upon first sight you have an idea of what it was meant for... and the longer you look at it, the more information you can glean. Fiddling with it will let you familiarize yourself with it more quickly.
Round Telephone (Stargate SG-1) Free:
The Stargate is a pretty important piece of technology, that much is certain. It's the name of the series, of COURSE it's important. You have knowledge on how to decipher its interface, and as such can use it to go from world to world.
Unleash the Snark (Stargate SG-1) Free:
All these aliens acting all hoity-toity... someone needs to take them down a peg. You always know what to say to be snarky at others, whether it be at a superior or a terrorist or an alien menace. They may have weapons and lasers, but the battle of wits belongs to you.
Toxicology Reports (Stargate SG-1) Free:
That wasn't there before. For whatever reason your blood contains just a bit of Naquadah now. Not enough to drain yourself and siphon it, but enough to utilize and work the technology of the Goa'uld. As a bonus, this allows you to sense when other Goa'uld symbiotes are nearby.
I apparated away from the boardwalk, vanishing in a slight pop and appearing in one of the heavily warded backrooms of Garment's studio. Actually, the entire studio counted as heavily warded at this point, and to a degree that felt slightly ridiculous, even for me. Unnatural skill with stonework, understanding of curses, and the fact that feng shui was an actual thing now, had allowed powerful and subtle defenses to be worked into the structure of the building. The extra wards that defended the expanded portions of the back rooms were probably unnecessary, but it was best to err on the side of overkill when dealing with parahuman abilities.
Like with the wide range of defensive effects that had been used to conceal my conversation with Weld and Flechette. Honestly, I probably could have gotten by just emulating a portion of Aisha's stranger power to get the people on the Boardwalk to ignore us, but that wasn't quite a universal effect. Until an absolute option presented itself, layered defenses were the best choice available to me, even if that could get a bit excessive.
Weld and Flechette had no idea of the number of magical, psionic, divine, and technological effects that had been in play during our conversation. Probably for the best. It was hard enough to get through the points I'd needed to cover without having to add another briefing to the mix.
That had gone reasonably well. I mean, I actually had social skills now, thanks to those expanded Star Trek skill powers. Well, actually, thanks to those expanded Star Trek skill powers I could realize that I'd always had social skills, or at least wasn't quite as lacking in them as I had thought.
Being able to reevaluate your past actions with skills and knowledge gained from another universe was an interesting experience. It tended to highlight mistakes and oversights, but also provided greater context to how those missteps had come about. Suddenly having Starfleet level mastery of Communication and Espionage definitely showed how I could have handled various situations better, but also helped me understand the reasoning I had for the approach I had taken.
I knew what mistakes and misconceptions I had made, but also why I had made them. It was easy to just think I should have done better, and that was probably how I would have thought about things earlier in my life, but when you had enough knowledge and context to understand 'why' rather than just 'what' it definitely changed the impression of how things played out. Understanding why you messed things up didn't need to be a personal failure, and it could provide a foundation for handling things better in the future.
Like I had with Weld and Flechette. Actual communication with people on the hero side of the equation with no massive misconceptions that would be likely to bring down disastrous overreactions. Or at least no reactions that I couldn't deal with. Once again, I wish I had been able to do this earlier in my career, but those communication problems weren't entirely on me. The environment in Brockton Bay hadn't been that friendly for people who didn't play into the balance of power that had been set up. Given how quickly it had collapsed in on itself, that kind of reaction was understandable, if not exactly forgivable.
"That went really well." Tetra said, suddenly appearing in front of me.
"About as well as we could have hoped." I said, not reacting as I continued through the backrooms. "Sorry you had to sit that out."
"It wasn't like I wasn't there, I just didn't become any more there than I already was." She explained. Once again, Tetra's unique way of interacting with the world had its own set of concerns. "I would have liked to properly meet Weld and Flechette, but they were already really nervous. It was probably better that you were the only one to talk to them."
Because I could actually handle that now. Well, no. I could have handled that before I got insanely advanced diplomacy and espionage skills loaded into my head, I would have just been a nervous wreck about the entire affair and constantly panicked over the idea that I was going to mess things up. In reality it usually wasn't my approach that was the problem so much as my concern over the situation and failure to recognize other factors that were in play.
That was probably the most significant thing about those communication skills. It wasn't that they let me take the perfect approach to any situation, because there was no such thing as a single perfect approach. What it did was allow me to be dynamic in response to unexpected factors. There was no universally right way to deal with everyone and everything. You had to be able to understand the situation and other people's views on it and adjust things accordingly. Even then, there was no way to be certain that things would go well, but with enough experience it was at least possible to recognize what went wrong and address it, or at least not blame yourself for things that were outside your control.
"Given what Weld was dealing with, that was probably for the best." I said. "I don't think he knows about your new form yet."
Tetra nodded. "He would have thought I was a Case 53." She said, "A lot of people do. They don't really understand what that classification means."
"It has kind of become shorthand for 'monstrous cape'. They also tend to get more media attention." And usually not for good reasons. Weld's guest role on that teen drama was the outlier of outliers.
Tetra nodded. "I would have liked to see Weld's passenger. Flechette's as well." She said.
I returned the nod. Case 53 and Cluster Trigger passenger would have made for useful data points. Having Tetra connect to them would have made it easier to locate them, rather than leaving things to Fleet.
Of course, Fleet likes when things are left to him. A long and arduous search through Passenger Space requiring the coordination of thousands of ships wasn't exactly a burden in his eyes.
"What are you going to do about Weld's contract?" Tetra asked. "I mean, you were already going to help the other Case 53s."
I nodded. "I was going to start offering general treatments once things had calmed down enough that it wouldn't destabilize things. They'll just have to wait for a bit."
"But not Gully?" Tetra asked.
"No." I said. "I think there's more than enough justification to make her a special case." Plus any panic or rushed policy decisions that were likely to be forced through in response to treating Gully, or from my conversation with Weld and Flechette, would be a bit overshadowed by the aftermath of putting down the Slaughterhouse Nine.
Provided they actually made it to the city in decent time. Which was why I was making my way to check in on Survey.
"So what are you going to do?" Tetra asked.
"Given the kind of reaction I get, there's not much that I can do." I said, "That is, me specifically."
Tetra's eyes widened. "So we get to help?" She asked. "Well, me and the Matrix, and maybe coordination help from Survey."
"Definitely coordination help from Survey." I said, and watched as Tetra pouted adorably. Yes, she could process information at legitimately supernatural speeds, but she didn't have six reports prepared in advance on the Case 53 residents of the city and proposed methods of addressing their conditions.
Well, six was an estimate. Checking the workshop records…. It was actually fourteen, with five sets of commentary from her parallel iterations as part of a peer review process. And two responses from her in an effort to peer review their peer reviews.
At least no one could say she wasn't checking her work.
"We won't be able to completely fix things, but that's the point, right?" Tetra asked.
"Kind of." I said. "I could probably put together some basic treatment that would be moderately effective without needing to be personalized, but that would require splitting focus from the current projects, and given what we're up against…"
Tetra nodded. Fully fixing things, on the order of what I was prepared to offer Gully, was off the table, but the rest of my team were more than capable of managing minor treatments and stopgap solutions, at least on the same level as what Weld received on his first treatment.
"And it will mean we can do something before everything gets crazy after we kill the Slaughterhouse Nine." Tetra said cheerfully.
Normally murder wouldn't be a bright subject, but with the Nine things were different. There had never been a time when a threat of that level had been taken off the board. Some S-class threats were contained or defeated before they could do irreparable damage, but the blight of the Nine's existence had been going on for longer than I had been alive, at least if you counted their years under King. I don't think people even seriously considered the idea that they could be defeated, not anymore, not after decades of them only becoming stronger and more dangerous.
"We'll probably be able to act more freely after the Nine." I said, "Though that will likely complicate things."
Once again, something of an understatement there. I could barely approach people for 'casual' chats in my current situation. After removing a long-standing S-class threat things would get a lot more difficult.
"It will mean interacting with more parahumans." Tetra said excitedly. "So it's good that we don't need to worry about that getting back to Jack Slash."
"Countermeasures to passenger network monitoring protocols have been performing admirably." Survey's voice called towards us as we entered her scrying chamber.
Well, not really a 'chamber', at least not anymore. The overpowered use of extension charms and related effects had been applied as strongly to Survey's observation post as to any other part of Garment's backrooms. What had been a collection of divination tools was now more of a landmark, a purpose-built structure at the center of a nexus of ley lines and focused mantic energy designed to amplify divine divination to an insane degree.
On an elevated hill in the center of the precisely aligned landscape sat a structure of marble columns and daises. An ephemeral figure in a flowing white robe that clung to her shapely and elegant form flitted between columns. Her steps were so light and so graceful that she was practically floating. Sometimes literally floating as she moved between carefully arranged mirrors, braziers, pools of water, boards of runes and tokens, and countless other tools of divination.
The entire structure may have looked a little bit like the Delphic Tholos, at least if it was fully intact and not a ruin. That may have been kind of accentuated by the fact that Garment had conspired with my duplicates to construct divination-enhancing clothing in the form of a Greek himation and chiton, basically their version of a toga. Survey had fully embraced the aesthetic, though primarily for its practical benefits. Still, given the role of symbolism when it came to enhancing powers with the Arcane Craft, her going all in on the divine oracle look was probably a benefit.
Though it was probably for the best that this was limited to the Workshop. Survey's appearance had caused enough of a stir online with just her standard cape outfit. This was the kind of thing that could end up causing a new fashion trend if it leaked. Or if Garment somehow managed to convince Survey to do that photoshoot she wanted.
"So no trouble keeping things quiet during the conversation?" I asked as Tetra and I approached. I'd gotten reports that the information had been contained, but hadn't had a chance to look into details.
As we reached the temple Tetra's form blurred, replacing her costume with a glowing red version of Survey's flowing robe. Survey nodded to Tetra, then turned to me expectantly.
"Uh, no. I'm good." I said.
"Aesthetic and thematic consistency improve the quality of the divination process." Survey said. "While the Nine are active I would prefer to maintain optimal efficiency."
"And I would prefer to wear pants." I said. Garment had worked with my duplicates and provided a complete set of divination-enhancing robes for the entire team, even the Matrix, though use was optional. And I was exercising that option. "Even the base level is beyond our previous monitoring. I'm sure we can manage for the length of a conversation."
Survey conceded the point, though I was half convinced the entire endeavor was part of an attempt by Garment to get me to play dress up. "Monitoring has revealed that Jack Slash's passenger maintains an aggressive notification system that has permeated the passenger network through an unknown mechanism. It provides active alerts to any relevant information encountered by a parahuman through communication with their passenger." She explained. "It is likely that his passenger is somehow intrinsically tied to communication methodologies, given the apparent level of access."
"But we've been able to block them?" I asked as I mentally reviewed the logs from the Final Frontier's efforts in Passenger Space.
"We have." She said, slightly smugly. "Both the network and the passenger in question have proven highly adaptive to interception attempts, but the concentrated efforts of the expedition have been able to maintain information security." Her smile widened as she continued. "Furthermore, attempts to circumvent our interference have revealed additional details as to the mechanics of passenger communication, which had proved useful in advancing theoretical assessments and planned countermeasures to the effect of Jack Slash's passenger on other parahumans."
Meaning the more the passenger fought our efforts, the more it was giving away. In all likelihood it probably didn't realize there was anything seriously wrong, or it would have warned off Jack as a precaution. The level of adaptation did mean that the passenger space expedition needed to stay focused on information control and monitoring, which would slow down the search for Bakuda's hidden dimension, but with the signal subverted and the hostages safe that could be put on the backburner for half a day.
"So we're confident in stepping up interactions with other parahumans?" I asked. I could draw my own conclusions from the analysis, but Survey had been living this problem for days. She would have the best insight to the risk/reward balance.
"I do not believe that incidental encounters will be difficult to suppress, but directly informing an unprotected parahuman of the Nine's imminent arrival may override the countermeasures we have been able to put into place." She explained. "To say nothing of the reaction such information would be likely to provoke from the individual in question."
"Agreed." I said, checking one of the scrying mirrors.
The Nine had been running around making preparations for their arrival in Brockton Bay. As much as they liked to portray themselves as an unbridled force of destruction, there was a surprising amount of caution that went into their approach. Measures were prepared, information was gathered, fallback sites were scouted, and tactics were considered and evaluated. Jack's power might have been carrying them through the years, but it seemed the man wasn't a complete idiot when it came to dealing with powerful opponents.
Of course, thanks to the combined efforts of Fleet, Survey, and the Matrix all their preparations were countered, their tactics were undermined, and their fallback sites were nothing but fabrications specifically prepared to present a false set of security. We were doing everything we could to speed run them through their cautious approach, but even so, they weren't likely to actually arrive until the next morning.
Everything was well in hand, but at the same time it was hard to not be frustrated by every moment of indecision, bickering, and strife that was observed. Yes, they were a band of insane murderers. Without Jack's power tying them together they would have undoubtedly fractured or killed each other by this point, but even with an effect that powerful in place, it seemed that the conflicts still had to play themselves out. Only now with an increasingly frustrated audience.
"Cherish and Shatterbird are arguing again." Tetra said in an almost tired voice. I didn't bother asking what the latest bickering session was about and Tetra didn't seem interested in sharing. Survey merely gave a single nod.
"I will update the projections for their arrival." She said, "Though it will not be possible to finalize estimates until the current conflict is resolved."
I let out a breath and nodded. It was safe to say that any mystique that the Slaughterhouse Nine had ever possessed was well and truly gone at this point, at least as far as my team was concerned. You'd think, given the atrocities that they had been responsible for, that petty annoyances wouldn't really register, but somehow having to play spectator to the worst reality show in the history of mankind made the countdown to finally being able to end them all the more frustrating.
"Anyway." I said, turning away from the various monitoring devices. "I still need to get the other two sets of nanites to Taylor and Panacea."
"The matter of Amy Dallon is being handled with extreme caution and confidentiality, but observations indicate that a conditional release is being planned for later this afternoon." Survey said, switching a few reserve mirrors over from members of the Nine to the interior of the PRT where, presumably, Panacea's case was being processed.
"That's good." And badly overdue. "But actually approaching her will be tricky."
And would probably be the most difficult of the three offers, and that was including the fact that Taylor's meeting was going to include her explanation of the situation leading to Emma assaulting her yesterday. It was possible there might be some gap where I would be able to approach Panacea without interference, but that would take a lot of luck.
And I had a lot of luck. Normally I'd say that fortune energy didn't work on random events like that, but fortune energy seemed to be the kind of thing that drove things to happen, rather than prevented bad things from happening. It was entirely possible that the extraordinary and frighteningly uncontrolled nature of my luck would create a situation where I'd be able to meet with Panacea before I had to deal with the Nine.
It wasn't something I was relying on, but those kinds of things seemed to be the moments when luck decided to go hog wild with unlikely circumstances, so really, it was anyone's guess what would happen. It was definitely an unusual situation to have a precise assessment of the probabilities of various events occurring, and then needing to add asterisks to flag anything that was incredibly unlikely but also exactly the kind of thing that fortune energy would go nuts over.
It was weird to effectively be complaining about 'luck', but for most people luck wasn't an actively intrusive force that drove major events in your life. Hell, it was entirely possible that the entire encounter leading to my date with Crystal had been my luck deciding to seize on an incredibly unlikely opportunity.
I shook my head. "We'll keep an eye on things, in case an opportunity comes up. Otherwise we'll have to deal with that after the Nine."
"That would considerably complicate matters." Survey said. "Furthermore, it would be advisable to ensure all sets are issued prior to the disruption likely to follow the Nine's defeat."
"I know, but there's no certainty that she'll accept the nanites." There was no certainty she'd even talk with me, but once again, it was possible some convoluted situation might present itself.
I'd definitely feel better if Panacea had that kind of protection before things got really out of hand. In addition to effective physical immortality, the healing effects could counter any master power reliant on altering neural processes, and the temporal effects of the mantic cores provided some level of obscurement against precognition. It was as close to an absolute defense as I could issue to anyone, though that had clearly been somewhat lost on Flechette.
Might need to change my pitch going forward, or at least take a slightly different approach to the presentation.
"If you explain things, she probably will." Tetra said cheerfully.
"There is a high level of confidence in your ability to convey the severity of the situation and make a convincing case for adoption of the measures offered." Survey added.
I blinked at that. "Are you factoring my communication skills into your assessments? As a positive factor?" I asked.
"I am." She said plainly. "I understand you may be inclined to hold to your earlier and largely erroneous assessments of your interpersonal skills, but given the impact of granted abilities and the information provided by your duplicates, the extended level of confidence is well warranted." She said as Tetra nodded along.
"Uh, right." I said a bit awkwardly, and not just because I couldn't actually refute any of that. "I need to speak with Garment." I said. A quick check confirmed she was back in her studio proper, meaning I didn't need to mess up the time dilation in the Workshop.
"Is it about Flechette?" Tetra asked.
I let out a breath and nodded. "Yeah." Even without physically being present, it seemed Tetra had been able to pick up on that particular detail.
"Good luck." She wished me earnestly as I departed. I appreciate the sentiment, but I was largely at a loss for how to approach things.
This had been a surprise. I mean, more of a surprise than I was expecting. I felt half blind for missing it, but really, it was more that I hadn't been looking for it.
It also didn't help that the idea had been pitched by that obsessed cape fan at Garment's debut, causing me to dismiss it out of hand. But no, for once PHO shipping theories actually panned out.
Flechette has it bad for Garment. Learning about it through the blessing of Aphrodite while she was pleading for help on Garment's behalf, that felt a little intrusive. Still, looking back, it had been actually fairly obvious. I mean, providing you weren't actively filtering out that kind of thing.
Which was what I needed to talk to Garment about. This was an unusual situation, and not just because of the fact that Flechette's sexuality wasn't publicly disclosed or because of Garment's 'unique' nature.
And the fact that Garment was either two weeks old, or as ancient as the concept of fashion itself, depending on how you counted things. Things only got more complicated when you added in temporal acceleration effects, but given that Garment seemed to have sprung into existence with full competency and maturity, that wasn't the main concern.
At least not compared to the fact that Flechette was a Ward. An older Ward, but the fact that she was a Ward meant she was still in high school, or at least high school age. Garment's existence didn't really match up to human development, but an established parahuman with their own business and extensive contacts across the country was in a very different situation from someone with a trust fund and minimum wage spending money issued to them by the Protectorate.
And everything indicated that Flechette's situation was probably even worse than that. An assessment of her history showed an unusual number of transfers between the various New York Wards teams. Either she had very accommodating parents who were amenable to frequent relocations, or her situation was less grounded. The fact that she had been selected for a short notice transfer to Brockton Bay suggested the latter, which implied things about her personal situation.
At the very least, it didn't appear that any parental figures had transferred to the city with her. That meant that, as the person in charge of the Brockton Bay Wards, it would fall to Director Piggot to act in Flechette's interests and advocate on her behalf. That did not sound like a healthy situation on any level. Not at the best of times, and I doubt there had been much concern extended towards Flechette's situation with everything else that Director Piggot had been dealing with.
Flechette's transfer had been conducted on extremely short notice and had thrown her immediately into a monstrously chaotic situation with what I was guessing were very few sources of support. The Brockton Bay Wards had been dealing with the aftermath of a colossal defeat, with Taylor's Aegislash really taking things over the top. Given that two of their long term members in high ranked positions had been transferred away to make room for Weld and Flechette, I doubted either of them were that warmly received. Flechette seemed to get along well with Weld, but him being lost in the bay and then isolated in containment couldn't have made things easy in the early days. Even after he was back, the two of them were apparently paired with Shadow Stalker, which didn't seem like a pleasant arrangement.
That was a bad enough situation even without taking the gang war into account. Considering everything she had been dealing with, it was no wonder she had gravitated towards Garment. Honestly, compared to the absolute disaster that was the city and PRT during Flechette's term with the Brockton Bay Wards, any social outlet would have been a relief, much less one as dynamic as Garment. It was easy to see why Flechette had latched on as hard as she did.
Which was where my concern came from. Flechette wasn't a child, but she was in a vulnerable situation. I wasn't worried about Garment taking advantage of the situation, but I couldn't ignore the fact that this was a Ward. It added an extra level of concern, beyond just a young girl's crush on a cape.
Of course, considering I had just offered her medical technology without so much as a suggestion that she talk it over with her guardian, I wasn't really one to pass judgment. Still, defensive measures were less of a concern than romantic entanglements, even if I probably violated a phonebook worth of medical codes with that offer.
Despite the nature of my concerns, I wasn't able to raise them when I approached Garment inside her studio. She had a much more pressing issue that she needed addressed.
"Um, Garment, are you sure…" She aggressively tapped on her sketchbook and I let out a sigh. "Alright, what's the problem?"
She tapped on several sketches of Flechette's costume, then on a separate set of sketches of the various forms of the paper sword. Specifically, the contrast between the white paper and blue ink with the deep purple and metallic white sections of her costume.
"I wasn't trying to coordinate, and it doesn't look that bad." I said in my defense. Garment conceded that point, though it was more that my style powers carried the day than the result of any conscious effort on my part.
Which was the primary issue that Garment had with the situation. Just because it was a spur of the moment creation built out of scrap solely for demonstration purposes was no reason to ignore stylistic consideration, at least as far as Garment was concerned. There was a clear distinction between the design of the paper sword and the theming of Flechette's costume. While the striking nature of that contrast had a level of appeal of its own, it was clear that Garment felt things could have been handled better. And was currently planning to address that at the earliest opportunity.
"It would probably be best if you at least pretend that you don't know about this in advance." I said. Garment made a slightly placating gesture and put away the concept sketches for costume modifications based on the sword. I noticed there was another stack of drawings intended for Weld, accounting for the impact the mithril had on his general appearance. Despite her frustration, there was clear excitement in being able to work with the new aesthetic for the two capes.
"Will you have a chance to-" I began before Garment showed me her phone.
A message from Flechette asking if she could stop by towards the end of her patrol, with a single word confirmation from Garment on the matter. Which explained why she was getting the main studio ready, or was at least creating the impression that it was where she did most of her work, rather than the immense area she had committed to her projects back in the Workshop.
"Oh, good." I said. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."
Garment set her designs down and turned towards me with a clear expression of interest.
"Um, yeah. I probably should have picked up on this earlier, but I wasn't really looking for it, and it wasn't obvious until I spoke with Flechette in person." I began. "I know you've been messaging her and have met several times, but… you know how she feels about you?" I asked.
Garment settled slightly as she considered the question. It was a complicated one and brought a rather complex response. Without my level of understanding and fashion knowledge I wouldn't have had a hope of following what she was trying to convey. All the details and feelings of Garment's interactions with Flechette summed up in a handful of movements, poses, flares of fabric, and design references.
I nodded. "Right, but it's more than that." I said. Garment made a confused gesture. "Romantic." I could see that Garment was skeptical. "No, I'm sure. Blessings confirmed it." She gestured again and I let out a breath, remembering some of her earlier interactions with Garment, both in the studio and at the charity show.
"She WAS trying to let you know." I said. Garment made a slightly frustrated gesture. "Because she's a Ward. They have strict costume guidelines. They can't exactly dress for a date if they're interested in someone."
Because of course Garment looked to fashion first when evaluating what someone was trying to convey. To be fair, I knew exactly how telling that kind of thing could be. Something as simple as choosing one belt rather than another, undoing a single button, or adjusting the way your shirt sat before leaving the house could all carry immense meaning. There was a language to fashion, even when you were working with a limited vocabulary.
The thing was, for heroes, particularly heroes who worked under the Protectorate and Wards, they weren't just working with a limited vocabulary. It was more like a video game where you had to choose between four prewritten responses with no ability to add modification or nuance. Fashion was a language, but for Protectorate heroes there was a lot of effort to make sure they always said the same thing, and as clearly as possible.
That was made worse by the fact that Flechette clearly only had the vaguest idea of how fashion could convey ideas and the fact that it was the primary means through which Garment interacted with the world. She wasn't completely limited to it, but taking that out of the equation was the difference between her being able to convey the entire history of her interactions with someone though slight movements of her dress and her spending five minutes picking out a handful of words on a keyboard.
"Yeah." I said as I watched Garment process the 'new' information. It was the first time I'd ever told someone that another person had a crush on them. I imagine this is the kind of thing that most people learn how to handle in elementary school. And frankly, the fact that I was the one who had more insight into this kind of thing just felt wrong. Then again, in literally any other situation than one where the person in question was only interacting in a strictly mandated uniform with clear image guidelines, Garment would have picked up on things long before I even thought to look.
Ironically, due to the costume limitations that Flechette was working under, you actually had complex and dynamic interactions from Garment's side and completely flat responses from Flechette, which was probably the complete opposite of how Flechette was seeing things. For someone who was obviously enamored with Garment, she had clearly been struggling with the most basic level of interaction.
Which could cast some uncertainty over the actual dynamics of the relationship, at least from Flechette's perspective. If there was even the potential for a relationship.
"I mean, are you even interested in this… kind of thing?" I asked.
Garment turned towards me, her posture shifting slightly, then made a fairly obvious gesture towards the outfits on display in her studio. Mostly dresses and gowns, but also casual wear, and everything crafted with an intent behind it. And if you could read that intent, then there was really no question.
Fashion didn't just exist for its own sake. There were some designs that were basically impressionist art on a runway, attempts at style and dynamic design with only the most superficial connection to convention, but for most people fashion grew from a definite purpose. Clothing served a function before anything else, and an incredibly broad range of functions at that.
That was even more the case when it came to romance. Even the most utilitarian cultures maintained specific elements of apparel for the purposes of courtship. The idea of someone agonizing over what to wear on a date was practically a cliché at this point. In a situation where open communication wasn't always possible or socially acceptable, being able to convey interest or availability through fashion choices was incredibly important.
Garment lived for fashion, but she didn't treat it like some scientist making impartial observations and minimizing their impact on the system they were studying. She immersed herself in it, and everything it represented. And that meant immersing herself in life, in human society, culture, and yes, relationships. The interactions would always be conducted through the lens of fashion and design, but that didn't mean they were any less sincere because of it.
"Ah, I see." I said, then paused. And with that context, and some of the specific outfits that she was drawing attention to, it was possible to discern additional implications from the designs and fashion suggestions that Garment had put forward, possibly going all the way back to that first motorcycle trip out into the city. "Um, right." I continued. I was the one who was supposed to be breaking news to Garment here. I really didn't expect for the conversation to end up revealing more obliviousness on my part.
"So, about Flechette…" I said, quickly changing the subject. There was a flicker of amusement from Garment as she accepted the shift in topic. "I don't know if this is something that you want to be pursued, or if it should even be pursued given her situation, or how it would be pursued…?" Garment made an irreverent gesture at that question. I suppose that the physical practicalities were the least of the current concerns.
Garment made some complex gestures and I nodded. "Right." I said. "As long as you know." There was another flicker of frustration from Garment and an indication towards one of her design books. "And yes, it would help if there was more variety in Protectorate costumes."
At the very least it would make things less awkward when they tried to put capes in situations other than combat. That was particularly awkward for anyone who used power armor when they were expected to attend some kind of fundraising event. People in battle suits trying to manage canapes or make small talk with people who weren't currently wearing half a tank.
The counterpoint was that people who came to those events tended to want to meet heroes as they were in the field. If you were paying hundreds or thousands of dollars for a chance to get your picture taken with a cape, you wanted it to be with the power armor, not some power armor inspired formal attire, no matter how well designed it might be.
"I mean, as long as you know about the situation…" I said. Garment signaled her agreement, though still with shades of frustration at the fact that Protectorate image policies had effectively muzzled Flechette during their earlier interactions. Given my own experience with romantic misunderstandings, even if there was no interest it was better to make things clear rather than leaving a misconception in place.
There was no clear stance at this point, probably because, as far as Garment was concerned, there was no clear intention on Flechette's part. I could tell she had felt fairly strongly when she made that request on Garment's behalf, but her situation combined with the fact that she was still a Ward complicated things considerably.
Flechette would be visiting towards the end of her patrol. Garment was excited about the prospect of new style possibilities accounting for the impact of the sword. Blue, purple, and white could work together if you were actually trying to create a coherent style, even though Garment would be limited in what she could offer. At the very least, Flechette was probably going to leave with a new cape.
And hopefully with less confusion about her situation. It was clear Garment wasn't about to jump into anything, but at least they would both be close to speaking the same language, rather than constantly talking past each other.
Which was an odd way to refer to things, considering this involved every aspect of communication other than clear and direct statements. Once again, actually being able to handle that kind of thing, to understand it and being aware of its significance, was still a novel experience for me. Novel, but not exactly bad, particularly since it could let me head off potential problems before they got out of hand.
Really wish that could have been an option earlier.
The conversation was suddenly interrupted by a notification through the workshop network. Call from Tattletale. Given her general reluctance around our daily talks, I was a bit concerned that it might be something serious, but there wasn't any special priority on the call or other alerts from her watch.
"I need to take this call." I said to Garment. "Are you alright or…" She indicated that she was fine. At most mild annoyance at the situation, but at the very least able to handle things. No clear indication of what would happen, if anything, but at least no one was going into it blind.
"Right." I said before apparating out of her main studio and into one of the offices that had been built into the back rooms. Not on the level of my office in the workshop, but still perfectly functional.
I connected the call and pulled up a holographic screen. "Hello Lisa." I said as the image appeared.
"Joe." She said with a slight nod. Lisa was sitting in her apartment, at a kitchen table covered in printouts. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and she was dressed casually in a fitted t-shirt and light jacket.
I could see she was still tired, but didn't seem to be in markedly worse shape than yesterday. There were some signs of sleep deprivation in hints of dark circles under her eyes. They had been left visible, clearly with the knowledge that I'd notice them, but also the knowledge that my manipulation sense would be able to recognize the reasoning for leaving them visible, but would also recognize manipulation of trying to hide signs of exhaustion. An entire feedback loop centered around whether to put on makeup before the call.
Despite the clear aftermath of a thinker feedback loop, the fact that she was holding together was an encouraging sight. Even if the situation wasn't allowing her to recover, she at least wasn't being worn down like in the days after the Ungodly Hour. "You're in a different office." Tattletale added as she took in the image from the video call.
"You caught me away from home." I said. There was a slight tick of her expression at the news that I had a secondary location outside my workshop, even if the level of separation was a little arbitrary.
"Right." She said, "Normally I'm not exactly thrilled about these check-ins, but with everything that's happened I couldn't wait for an update."
"Everything?" I asked.
That did annoy her. "The hostage transfer out of the city. Survey and Kataklyzein demolishing the Teeth and publicly humbling the Empire. Fleet doing the same thing last night with an even bigger conflict. Also something involving Dauntless that the PRT is desperately trying to keep secret while at the same time bringing in every expert that they can contact."
"Yeah." I said, and the casual response clearly did me no favors. "But I told you about that. Most of that."
"About the hostages, and that one of your team MIGHT step in if things got out of hand. That wasn't exactly 'stepping in'." She said.
"What did you think I meant by that?" I asked. "That someone would show up and sternly remind them of the terms?" I saw her expression. "What, really?"
"It's how these things usually go." She said, "With villains it's a lot of bluster and posturing. People don't usually jump straight to going all out with split second notice."
"You seriously think that was them going all out?" I asked. There was a bit of humor in my voice that fell flat when I saw her face.
"No." She said morosely. "I don't, but it does by the standards of this city, or frankly any cape in the country." She took a breath. "That kind of response has only made people more concerned, and they were already on edge to begin with."
"How were we supposed to handle things?" I asked.
"Generally people get a warning when they push things too far so they can back off." She Explained. "It doesn't go from zero to apocalypse."
I shook my head. "I'm not interested in doing a back and forth as people try to figure out how far they can push boundaries. Not when civilian lives are at stake."
Tattletale gave a shallow nod. "I understand, but capes aren't used to hard lines, or at least not lines that hard. These are people who push limits. It would have helped if the limits were set with some give so they could be pushed."
"You mean overreach and then back down?" I said, shaking my head. "No, I already set things to the bare minimum. It's a limit I shouldn't even have to take a stance on."
"I get that." Tattle said. "But that kind of absolutist stance isn't common in cape circles."
I smiled. "Well, neither am I."
Tattletale looked up at me, briefly shocked by the audacity. An amused smile may have flickered across her face before fading back to the tired expression. "Fine, fair point." She said, "No need to leave room for negotiation."
"I wasn't negotiating." I said.
"Yeah, but not everyone has realized that." She said, "Not yet, at least."
"Ah." I said. "So now that they know the boundaries are real, they're going to start seeing how close they can get or, what? Try to drive other groups into them?"
"Possibly." She said, "Though not for a while. After Fleet, no one wants to be responsible for the third incident."
Well, he had certainly made an impression. The statement about 'individual members amending their approach to the situation' was vague enough to cause no end of concern, which was kind of the point.
"I trust you don't have a problem with the decision to step in?" I asked.
Tattletale let out a breath. "No. Would have preferred something a little less aggressive, but definitely no. Especially with Fleet." She said, pinching her eyes shut. "I've been digging through blurry cell phone videos taken by stoned Merchants to try to piece the incident together, but it's clear how bad that could have gotten."
I looked at the exhausted girl on the screen. "You know, you could have just asked for a record of the incident."
She blinked. "What?"
"Fleet has a full breakdown of the entire encounter. If you wanted to check anything you could have just asked for footage." I explained.
She took a deep breath, raised a hand to her forehead, then slowly let it out. I waited for her to finish before I responded.
"I'm guessing that didn't occur to you?" I asked.
"Not the most obvious information source, though it probably should have been." She said, "And it was better for me to use public sources for the analysis. At least technically." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.
"Analysis for Coil?" I asked. "Which I'm guessing is what this is about?"
She nodded. "He wanted confirmation that Scrub would have actually killed the Butcher if Fleet hadn't intervened. Lots of people were hoping he jumped the gun, but that's half them not wanting to admit what could have happened and half are afraid of what that could mean about Fleet's capabilities." She looked to me hopefully.
"You have his number." I said with a smile. "He's there if you want to ask." An amusing thought occurred to me. "Or you could just gossip with Rachel."
That actually got a short laugh. "She's not exactly the chatty type. Also kind of defensive about Fleet. Whatever happened on that 'riding lesson', Rachel is taking it seriously."
I shrugged. "That's her business." I said. "But I'm guessing this situation is affecting the next wave of planned operations?"
"If by 'affecting them' you mean all plans have been thrown out with everyone starting from square one, then yeah, that's about right." She explained. "Both the Merchants and the Teeth are spooked over what almost happened, even if they're not letting it show. Things didn't go nearly as well for the Empire as Kaiser was hoping, so he's dealing with internal politics and there's some serious concern over Crusader that they're trying to keep quiet." She looked up at me. "I really need to know, what did Kataklyzein do to him?"
"He took Crusader's spear." I said.
"I know. Everyone saw that on the video. It shouldn't have been possible, but I'm guessing that with Kataklyzein…" She looked at me expectantly. I just made a gesture towards my own watch. "Right, have his number." She said flatly. "But this was something more than just interacting with his ghosts, right?"
"Yeah. He took Crusader's spear." I said. Tattletale gave me a flat look. "Conceptually."
She blinked. "Conceptually? Like, the concept of him having a spear?"
"Or really any other weapon." I said. "He can't manifest them through his projections anymore."
She took a deep breath, brought a hand to her forehead, and slowly breathed out with a muttered "fuck" at the end. Then she lowered her hand and looked up at me.
"So Crusader's power had been…. permanently? Altered by a high-level trump effect that severely impairs his ability to operate in an offensive capacity."
"That's about right." I said.
"And does Kataklyzein still have… no, don't actually want to know that." She said, taking another breath. "Is this related to the reality warping stuff around your name and a concerning number of other unspecified targets?"
"Tangentially." I said. They did both count as curses, though the use of shikigami was a very different category of effect.
"Right." She muttered, dropping her head.
"I'm guessing Coil is still pressing you on this?" I asked. "Is he why you called early?"
"He is, and yeah." She said, "Officially, we've got the only reliable line to Apeiron, which means Coil gets to act like HE has the only reliable line to Apeiron."
"And you're maintaining that impression." I said.
She nodded. "Trust me, you don't want to know what will happen if Coil loses that sense of control." She said.
Actually, I very much did, because I was almost completely certain that I could counter it with trivial effort and absolutely certain that it would be utterly meaningless if my team got serious. Still, Tattletale's concerns had to come from somewhere. I could afford to make sure things were safe before making my play, if only to minimize the amount of cleanup required.
And I could tell that Tattletale had read most of that from my expression. I mean, I wasn't actually trying to obscure it, and it clearly did a lot to calm her concerns. Except recognizing that I could tell that it had calmed her concerns, which left her feeling exposed and embarrassed.
"You're a lot better at this than you were yesterday." She observed, sounding only a little bitter.
I shrugged. The arrival of Star Trek level diplomacy and espionage skills hadn't been expected, but they were definitely useful, even if Tattletale was a bit thrown off. Though that was probably because they were combined with a manipulation sense that meant she actually had to deal openly with someone who suddenly knew how to deal.
"Dynamics of power growth." I said. "Occasionally I get something useful instead of just instructions for a better mousetrap."
"That's a cute reference, but I can't help but feel like everyone else counts as the mouse in that analogy." She said before shaking her head. "Well, the mice are scared and trying to figure out what's happening next. Coil had plans, but they're out the window now. That's why he's pressing for analysis and assurance."
"Assurance about me?" I guessed. Tattletale nodded. "What kind of assurances?"
"Mostly that you aren't mounting any major operations. You or any of your team." She explained.
"Everything we've done has been reactionary, and in response to the terms we set at the summit." I said.
"Yeah, but reactions can go a long way." She said.
I nodded. "I'm guessing this is less about his own peace of mind and more about being able to offer some level of assurance to the other gangs who might have decided to be a little more conservative in their approach to the situation." Which was kind of my intention, but clearly didn't line up with whatever Coil had been planning. "Assurances that would let whatever plans Coil had brewing get back on track after my team managed to derail them."
"Cynical, but not wrong." She said, "Cautious and conservative gangs weren't really something anyone saw coming. Even with assurances, it's going to set things back."
An anxious expression played across her face. She was aware of how displaying her emotions could be seen as manipulation, but would be less manipulative than pretty much anything else she could try. Once again, I was treated to the sight of Tattletale tying herself in mental knots before just pushing forward.
"This is going to set things back for me as well." She said, "It's going to take longer to get brought fully onboard, longer to confirm things. This will push the schedule by days, at least."
"Alright." I said.
Tattletale froze, then looked up at me. "Alright? With how much you were pressing me on this?"
"Yeah." I said. A quick link to the Final Frontier confirmed that no part of this had a chance of getting back to Jack's passenger. Still, I kept things as vague as I could. "I'll be busy with an unrelated matter for the next couple of days, so the delay's no problem."
"You'll be busy." She said, "Busy for a couple of days. Do I have to point out how terrifying that is?"
I raised an eyebrow. "I figured you'd be happy to get a bit of a grace period."
"Not in exchange for something you consider to be a priority. Which I'm guessing I don't even want to know about?" She asked. The idea of not wanting to know something sounded alien to her, but that didn't seem to affect her conviction on the matter.
"Not if you want to stay at our current level of collaboration." I said. She took a breath and leaned back in her chair in response to the implication. "Your choice, but some of the stuff I'm working on needs strict information controls. Stricter than what's possible with our current relationship."
"Thanks, but given the choice, I think I'd rather stay independent." She said quickly. There was a particular emphasis on the word 'choice'. I nodded and she visibly relaxed. "Just, whatever this is, you have it under control?"
"Very much so." I said confidently, something she clearly picked up on.
"Right. Taking your word for that. And hopefully won't lose too much sleep over it." She muttered.
There wasn't much I could offer in the way of assurances, not when even thinking about the scale of what was coming up would only create more stress.
"Collaboration arrangements still stand." I said. "We just aren't expanding them."
"I know." She said, and once more shadows of exhaustion passed across her face. "I reviewed her information about the… situation in New York."
I nodded. "Take it you weren't aware of that?"
She shook her head slowly. "No. It's an outlier. A significant outlier, but it explains some things."
That specific contingency, the S-class threat waiting to happen, with built in epidemic and trump-based protocols, had just gotten more complicated. The fact that the Travelers had left forty dead bodies in their wake, or more concerningly the lack of forty dead bodies, definitely painted them in a different light.
Plus, Survey's analysis didn't stop with police reports and news articles. Tattletale had a full breakdown of the situation of every disappearance, as well as several other missing persons who she suspected to have been involved. Tattletale was fairly jaded as a villain, but everyone had limits and I doubted even she could dismiss this.
"Is it going to be a problem?" I asked, as if the loss of forty people in one night could be considered a minor incident.
"It will complicate things. This situation is more volatile than I thought, so please, let me handle it." She pleaded.
"Still?" I asked.
She nodded. "It's contained. Will stay contained, at least for a while." She held up her watch. "If I can get a scan we can be sure of any countermeasures. Until then, let me handle this."
"Alright." I said. At the very least I had enough on my plate for the moment. "Anything else?"
"Not relating to Coil." She said, "But I'm guessing you know about what happened to Taylor?"
I nodded. "The watch picked up the attack."
"Makes sense." She said, "You didn't interfere?"
"Checked in with her. Offered some advice and technical help, but it's connected with what happened to her back in January." I explained.
"Yeah, that…" Tattletale paused. "You really don't know what happened to her." It wasn't a question, more a statement of mixed amazement and exasperation.
"Some of my team does, but I've been specifically avoiding looking into it." I said. "Taylor wanted to be able to explain things herself. We're meeting later today to go over things."
"Ah." She said in response. I raised an eyebrow at the stilted reaction and she continued. "What happened was bad. Really bad. Given everything with Taylor…"
"You're worried about how I'll react." I said. Which in itself was concerning as to how bad this was.
"I think it's a reasonable concern." She said, "So I guess if the sky splits open this afternoon, I'll at least know why."
I took a breath. "No matter how bad this is, if Taylor wanted that kind of help with it, she would have asked already." She gave me a skeptical look. "I can't promise I'll stay out of this, but I'm going to try to handle things in a reasonable manner."
"Well, that's something." She said.
I shrugged. "What did Taylor tell you about the attack?" I asked.
"She didn't have to tell me anything." She said, "By the time we spoke, I'd already seen the video." I raised an eyebrow. "Taylor is internet famous."
"Seriously?" I'd been deliberately avoiding that kind of media, seeing as it was almost certainly going to contain some context to what happened in January. I knew the video had spread beyond the students at Winslow, but I didn't have a good sense of how far it had gone.
Tattletale nodded. "It hit a lot of buttons for the current state of the city. Also tears down the bitchy girl, and everyone likes seeing that. Helped that she was scheduled for the event before she bailed."
"How's Taylor dealing with this?" I asked.
"She's mortified." Tattletale said smartly. "Her father made a statement about not speaking on the matter and she's been hiding at home while people make edits of the video set to music or other stuff."
"I see." I said. It made sense, given how improbably well shot it was and how well it happened to frame Taylor. This really wasn't something I saw coming.
"Wait." Tattletale said. "You leaked that video? Hacked and leaked the video? That's what you consider technical help?"
"Given what the school was trying to pull, it seemed reasonable." I explained. "Didn't anticipate it going this far."
"Right." She said, "And probably a lot further."
"You're still worried." I said.
She let out a breath. "Just promise me you won't burn the city down over what she tells you." I raised an eyebrow. "Seriously."
"I promise. No arson sprees." I said flatly. "Though I'm guessing we're going to have some interesting things to cover at our next check in."
"As long as they don't involve a gang war, I can live with that." She said.
"That I can promise." I said confidently. If anything, my confidence proved to be another point of concern for Tattletale.
"Right." She said, not quite stifling a yawn that I could tell was actually authentic and not an effort to convey the level of stress she was under, though she recognized that it did convey as much and wasn't particularly happy about the manipulation through non-manipulation strategy she was locked into. "I think that's enough terrifying revelations for one day. I'll check in tomorrow for more looming terror and existential dread."
"Sure." I said as I rolled my eyes. "Though like I said, you can check in with the rest of my team if you need to."
"No thank you." She said sharply. "One point of contact is more than enough for me. I don't think I could handle a full discourse. And something tells me that a chat with Survey wouldn't go particularly well."
"She's not that bad." I protested.
"She sent five gigabytes of supporting data for a ten-page report." Lisa said flatly.
"She likes to be thorough." I replied. Now it was Lisa's turn to roll her eyes. Somehow I doubted she was used to that level of analysis, at least not from anyone else, and her own assessments probably weren't quite so meticulously documented.
We closed out the call, which did manage to cross off another item from my rather crowded schedule for the day. And raised some concerns about the upcoming talk with Taylor. That was primarily about getting her the nanites, but from the sound of things the breakdown of her situation at school was likely to be fairly serious. I'd like to think that if it had been critical she would have asked for help, but considering this was Taylor there was a decent chance she had stubbornly decided to handle everything on her own despite my earlier offers of help.
Well, help for everything but more weaponry, which seemed like the only things she would have actually requested if it had been on the table. At least the nanites I was handing out were thoroughly limited to healing, and there was only so far that regeneration could be weaponized.
I was distracted from my long-term concerns over Taylor's violent abuses of my technology by a sense of movement from the Celestial Forge. The slow rotation of the constellation had resulted in three missed connections since I had acquired Workshop grocery delivery, with two of those landing on the Toolkits constellation which only held a single oversized mote. Which meant that this connection was coming in with an amount of reach sufficient to secure any of the remaining motes in the constellations.
The Knowledge constellation swung towards me and I felt a connection to one of the large motes. It dislodged and descended towards me like a burning sun, washing over me as new knowledge and understanding flowed into my mind.
And I understood. The shadows of the past blazed a trail to the future, extending to the heavens. Looking backwards, the ruins and remains of a great people that had been lost to time created a map, a guide for how their greatest works could manifest.
The power was called Xenoarcheaologist. It gave me an incredible understanding of ancient civilizations, but that was just the foundation for the real effect of the power. Through the effect of Xenoarcheaologist, my understanding of past civilizations improved my understanding of alien technology. The connection of the two unrelated fields sounded like something out of an ancient aliens conspiracy theory, probably because it was. Or at least it was in whatever world this power originated from.
This power was from a version of Earth where aliens definitely built the pyramids. I could understand that, how the ancient structures integrated into their technology and how other alien technology could be discerned from the same principles, no matter how convoluted the connection between archaeology and xeno-engineering was.
I could also recognize the lack of that connection, at least in this world. I was on a planet where the pyramids were not alien landing pads, but I also knew that they could have been, and what that would say about the nature of the alien ships and the technology they would use.
At least in vague terms. The power didn't actually give me any direct technical knowledge, just the capacity to easily discern it through casual investigation. Just observing a piece of alien technology or an example of their scientific principles was enough for me to gain information on the underlying principles and operations, and actually interacting with the technology massively accelerated the process.
It was a major power that was entirely focused on reverse engineering alien tech, though through a seriously obtuse method. That didn't change the fact that it was incredibly powerful, allowing me to discern the purpose of any piece of tinker tech with nothing but a glance and fully understanding the operational principles, to the point of replication and improvement, with nothing but a brief examination of the device in question.
It was 'limited' to alien technology, but that was significantly less limiting than it could be, considering what I was working with. Particularly considering that passenger space was effectively an immense semi-virtual environment constructed to facilitate the operation of passengers, who themselves were effectively biomechanical constructs of alien origin.
And that was just parahumans. Any examples of alien technology or science available to me could be just as easily deciphered. Ironically, that included the mechanics behind life fiber clothing. This power would have allowed me to bypass the need for the Tailoring ability and work out the creation of Kamui from first principles. Even now, it could easily fill in any gaps that had been left in that knowledge base, but that was just the start.
It also extended to the technorganic cores of the Zoids, a good deal of my element zero based equipment, certain select designs present in the mental schemas of Techno Fixer, Armourer, and Weaponsmith, various pieces of technology from Star Wars and Halo, and all Transformers tech, including the Cybertronian Forge itself.
But, of course, for the biggest impact you had to circle back to the Prismatic Laboratory. Everything in that place, from the colors to the creatures to the souls, amber, and burning sigil, was unmistakable eldritch, but it wasn't erratic. Or not completely erratic. Right from the start it was clear that they all followed some kind of twisted logic, a science unlike any conventional field of study.
Now it was clear. The science wasn't just unconventional, it was fully alien. Alien, but strongly linked to the ancient past. Not in the same way the pyramids could have been, but not entirely different either. Through Xenoarcheaologist I could see how the practices of an ancient world, of cities before recorded history, shaped, and wielded the forces that were now present in that laboratory. Every impossible aspect was a core piece of some field of study or meticulous art, and I could see how all that insanity fit together to create something that was almost logical.
And it was all alien. All from aliens. Not only were the impossible colors the result of alien scientific principles, the same effect could be found in the burning letters and even the vital essence contained in amber. Squid people actually turning out to be aliens wasn't that surprising, but the fact that the burning sigils from hell also counted seemed to indicate something rather strange about that universe's version of devils.
Regardless, it was another point of advantage towards being able to use those elements to deal with Jack's influence, and a fairly major advantage at that.
I reached out to my duplicates mentally. The time dilation made that difficult, but it was still possible to get updates.
"Yeah, it's already helping with Aisha's work." My first duplicate transmitted. "So no need to come in and throw off the temporal acceleration."
It was said with good humor, and I could understand the frustration of effectively having to suffer through random shifts in the flow of time whenever I needed to duck into the workshop for a minute.
"Work's coming along with the other abilities as well." My second duplicate added. "Well, not the insult power, but that's more of a specialized application."
Unleash the Snark. It was one of three free powers that came bundled with Xenoarcheaologist. Some of the 'free' powers that I've received have been disproportionately powerful, but enhanced proficiency with insults wasn't going to make the top ten. It was an amusing power, but kind of overshadowed by the other two.
Toxicology Reports was a power that altered my body, placing traces of an alien metal called Naquadah in my bloodstream. It was a material with the ability to amplify energy through complex effects related to higher level physics. You needed substantial quantities of high purity to produce significant amounts of power, but the traces in my blood were enough to begin the feedback loop, allowing Naquadah based technology to be operated.
The traces in my blood weren't large enough to siphon or concentrate into any meaningful quantity, but they were enough to provide a complete model for how Naquadah functioned, which was more than enough to begin fabricating it. It could be replicated with some difficulty, transmuted somewhat more easily, or one of my duplicates could just write a short script using the eight trigrams and transform a slab of granite into a massive quantity of high-grade alien metal.
Which was enough to open up applications of the final free ability that I had received. Round Telephone was a power that granted the skills needed to operate a specific piece of Naquadah based technology. One with an eclectic and archaic interface based on symbology corresponding to advanced scientific concepts of celestial navigation. The connection between ancient principles and advanced alien technology made it the archetypical example of what Xenoarcheaologist was designed to decipher. An ancient piece of alien technology capable of generating stable wormholes between star systems.
I knew how to operate a Stargate. How to decipher the interface and use it to travel from one world to another. Unfortunately, that was all I knew. I knew what the device looked like, how to operate it, and what function it served, but I had no clue to the actual internal processes save that they involved significant amounts of high grade Naquadah and were capable of transporting people and materials thousands of light years in a single step.
It was like asking someone who had only been taught how to use a tablet computer how the device functioned. They knew how to turn it on, what icons to push to get the needed effect, and even some minor troubleshooting, but had no understanding of the computer science that made the device possible. The only thing that they could be sure of was that it was possible.
And this was possible. To be fair, with Cybertronian Space Bridges, interstellar wormhole travel wasn't impressive, but the robustness, resilience, and ease of use a gate network could provide made it worth exploring. It would need to be developed from the ground up, but it was possible to conduct the research and testing within the Spiritron Core, allowing full abuse of its temporal acceleration stacked with what the Workshop was capable of.
A whole new field of physics allowing instantaneous interstellar travel, and it was basically a side project for me. A minor point of interest for the purposes of recreating a device from another universe that I had vague operational experience with. Not something world shattering, but something that could be explored and analyzed for possible integration into other projects.
But something that was very much secondary to immediate concerns.
"Naquadah has the potential to be big." My second duplicate continued. "Especially after we get a chance to imbue the material."
No question there. Energy amplification was a big deal, and would only get bigger as my various forging techniques improved the properties of the material, but with the Volcano I could imbue aspects of one material into another. The energy generation properties of Ragnite added to Naquadah's energy amplification could be huge. Or Naquadah added to Ragnite, or any other naturally energetic material.
Xenoarcheaologist was an incredible power, and one that opened thousands of opportunities for research and advancement, but they were just that. Opportunities. Naquadah was something that had immediate benefits that could be rolled out across the entire workshop. Particularly with the Matrix's interest in what would happen if it was imbued into a Mantic Core.
"We've got this covered for now." My first duplicate transmitted through our connection. "You know, seeing as we don't have a handy version of Flechette's striker power to experiment with."
I could hear the bitterness in their words, and it made me smile. Having seen Flechette fully charge the sword with her power, I could recreate it with my Dark Slayer projections and potentially eventually recreate it through runic enchantments. What's more, as a paper sword with elemental aspects, it could reconfigure and shift form, letting me form it into just about any configuration. Add in the fact that it was made out of blue demonic energy, and there were decent odds that no one would realize it was a recreation of the weapon I had given to Flechette.
Well, no one but high-level thinkers, who would almost certainly be looking into any substantial display of power on my part.
"The next set of duplicates will be able to project it." I transferred back. "Until then you could always use March's sword."
I could actually feel the psionic imprint of outrage through both of my duplicate's responses. We all felt largely the same way about March's stupid mall kiosk sword that had almost been used to kill me. Having another source of that striker power was an immense relief, particularly since it was connected to some actually decent craftsmanship. Well, garbage by my standard, but miles above mall ninja store wall-hanger weapons.
I projected a version of Flechette's sword, charged with a 'lesser' version of her power. It was similar to March, but the effect needed to unfold through space, rather than build like a fuse. That was actually the limiting factor for my reduced version.
Flechette needed time to 'charge' an item with her power before she could use it. The process actually involved extending the item through countless universes while severing it from any number of physical laws and effects. For Flechette that was usually friction and gravity, allowing her to fire her shots without any drop off or concern for air resistance or wind.
My lesser version took longer to unfold to full power and wasn't capable of ignoring as many physical laws. There was also a timing aspect that I hadn't fully considered before. Flechette typically timed the duration of her power's effect, allowing her to fuse her bolts with other objects. The thing was, that duration wasn't optional. The process of unfolding an object put it on a timer. There was only so long that kind of power could be maintained before it snapped back.
In all likelihood that was some kind of power conservation mechanism. There were truly insane amounts of power being extended in even the most minor expression of March or Flechette's power, but from the look of things almost all of that energy was recovered. The only expenditure was whatever was actually needed for it to overcome the defense of whatever was hit.
Normally that would be a rounding error in the scale of energy being used, but I couldn't help but wonder if the attack March used on me was actually a considerable exertion on the part of her passenger. Not enough to stop the blasts, but enough to present an unwelcome bill for her efforts. Exactly how much power had it taken to blow though that much flesh with the durability of magically enhanced divine metal? Probably a lot more than her passenger was expecting.
The point was, just because I had a copy of Flechette's power didn't mean I had an unstoppable sword that I could use to annihilate everything in my path. The sword needed to be charged up, unfolding to its full potential, and was only able to hold that effect for a brief moment. Of course, a moment was all you needed to absolutely devastate your target, but it was still a little disappointing.
I'd be able to improve the effect through study and practice, but that would have to wait until the next set of duplicates were able to manifest their own version. In the meantime, I happily transferred my own experiences with how incredible the sword was and how much better it was to emulate than March's stupid prop blade.
Based on their reactions, I was probably lucky that my awareness of the contents of the Workshop meant they couldn't hide any more surprise projects for me to discover at a later date.
"Any more project updates?" I asked, letting the projected paper sword disperse into blue demonic energy.
"Things are looking good on the Prismatic Laboratory's front." The First Duplicate transferred back. Every exchange was slowed down from my side and accelerated for them, with lengthy pauses between my replies. Still, that was better than holding up work. "This might actually be the way to go to deal with Jack."
"Of course, Fleet thinks we should just build a Big and let that handle it." The second added.
"A Megadeus?" I asked. Well, a Megadeus Big, which was a whole different beast from the 'basic' designs of giant robots from my Valuable Memories powers.
"Technically, it could deal with this kind of thing. Particularly since we're talking about memories." The duplicate responded.
"It could but this is…" I trailed off. Technically this was something I'd been capable of since just before the Ungodly Hour. But there was a reason I'd stayed away from that technology.
The term 'Megadeus' wasn't much of an exaggeration when it came to the type of giant robots that I'd learned how to build from my Valuable Memories powers, but Bigs were a class beyond even them. They were god machines with extremely complex abilities and natures that could be best described as 'temperamental'. At full power they were basically reality engines, but that kind of power came at a cost. It wasn't the kind of thing you treated lightly.
But then again, neither were impossible colors or burning sigils of reality. Neither were Superweapon projects that required entire passengers as components. Nor were global curses, parahuman network subversions, psionic interventions in the collective unconscious of humanity, or any of the other desperate and insane methods that had been proposed for countering decades of parahuman brainwashing by Jack Slash's shard.
Building a Big could go very wrong. It was tampering with incredible forces beyond mortal comprehension, but that wasn't exactly an unusual state of affairs for my team. And at this point, I really couldn't afford to take any options off the table.
I hadn't expected to be lining up another major crafting project this soon, but I was doing fairly well on Spiritual Energy. Even intense conversations counted as the kind of interactions I needed to recharge. Though I sincerely doubt Director Armstrong, Weld, or Flechette expected me to end up using the spiritual energy from our interactions to build a thirty-meter-tall god machine.
"Tell Fleet we'll look into it." I said.
And then Fleet was next to me in the office. I could actually follow his accelerated movements, but even so, as a fully divine construct he moved impossibly fast. And that wasn't exactly hyperbole.
"That is excellent news." He said. "I believe the Matrix would be interested in assisting with the work as well."
"I would." They transmitted through the network. "And given the scope and nature of the project, there is considerable enthusiasm from the machine spirits and skulls of the Laboratorium."
"I'll bet there is." I said, leaning against the desk of the office. There had been no shortage of enthusiasm on that front, and no shortage of disappointment that my low rank as a Enginseer tech priest meant I was unable to perform or unaware of certain rites and rituals.
Their primary concern was the fact that the workshop's various Questor Imperialis had no knightley houses attributed to them. Of course, as a 'mere' Enginseer, I didn't have the authority to imbue new knightly houses. What authority I did have was mostly connected to being the techpriest in charge of a major facility, rather than my own personal rank. It also created some difficulties with the various Kerbals who wanted very much to join the Adeptus Mechanicus, but were effectively locked at the rank of aspirant until we figured out some workaround.
"I'm willing to look into this, but will need more time to evaluate our options. And I'd want to hold off at least until the next set of duplicates." I explained.
"Understandable." Fleet said with a slight nod. "Currently, efforts are primarily being focused using the more recent power to analyze how passengers operate."
He opened a link, the data feed from the Final Frontier, where my duplicates were using Xenoarcheaologist to grab whatever insights they could from Passenger Space. Specifically, the more active a passenger was, the more Xenoarcheaologist could tell us about how they functioned.
In fact, if someone were to invoke fundamental operational responses from a passenger, like the kind you saw from a trigger, or a trigger-like response to a serious disruption, then that would provide an incredible opportunity to analyze the dynamics of passenger space and that passenger in particular. Enough to help with any parahuman who might be connected to the passenger in question if they happened to be dealing with any particular power issue.
"That's interesting. And potentially useful." I smiled at Fleet. "I think it's time to inform Gully of the contract that's been awarded on her behalf."
Jumpchain abilities this chapter:
Xenoarcheaologist (Stargate SG-1) 600:
For whatever reason, understanding the civilizations of old means you're able to understand alien technology a lot better. You may not know everything off the bat, but upon first sight you have an idea of what it was meant for... and the longer you look at it, the more information you can glean. Fiddling with it will let you familiarize yourself with it more quickly.
Round Telephone (Stargate SG-1) Free:
The Stargate is a pretty important piece of technology, that much is certain. It's the name of the series, of COURSE it's important. You have knowledge on how to decipher its interface, and as such can use it to go from world to world.
Unleash the Snark (Stargate SG-1) Free:
All these aliens acting all hoity-toity... someone needs to take them down a peg. You always know what to say to be snarky at others, whether it be at a superior or a terrorist or an alien menace. They may have weapons and lasers, but the battle of wits belongs to you.
Toxicology Reports (Stargate SG-1) Free:
That wasn't there before. For whatever reason your blood contains just a bit of Naquadah now. Not enough to drain yourself and siphon it, but enough to utilize and work the technology of the Goa'uld. As a bonus, this allows you to sense when other Goa'uld symbiotes are nearby.
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- Location
- Miami
Sad it's not an 800 point but xeno is still awesome.
Edit: And now the whole workshop has yet another insane metal to work with. I wonder what a full Naq body would do for Weld.
Edit: And now the whole workshop has yet another insane metal to work with. I wonder what a full Naq body would do for Weld.
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Rem Freeman
Clouded Personality
- Location
- Ocean Bound
Really enjoyed this chapter, though I do find it funny that Joe has to play the "romantic expert" when explaining to Garment that Flechette has a crush on him
Garment talking to Joe about Crystal: "You dunce, of course she likes you. You don't understand anything about romance!"
Joe: "Yeah, about that. You do know Flechette has a crush on you right?"
Garment: Surprised Pikachu face
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- Location
- Alberta / Canada
Well... that's oddly convenient. I just checked for the update 4 minutes ago after getting off work and nothing now I catch it in seconds nice.