(Andrea)
It was two in the morning on Friday (March 11), when there was a gentle knock on the door of the factory. I checked the security camera… and it was Ryan, one of our employees from shipping and receiving. Right, I better see what the problem was.
Thirty seconds later, I'd let Ryan into the lobby, and asked,
"Is there any particular reason you're here so early?"
Ryan nodded grimly,
"It's Skidmark. He's decided to try shaking down Reliabuilt employees for money, and he's threatening to chuck construction materials through our windows if we don't pay up."
I thought for a moment,
"And you're counting on me to handle things more permanently than the PRT would, I'm presuming?"
Another grim nod.
"Understood. Where did you last see him?"
"Rosebrick projects, one of the residential districts Reliabuilt's refurbished. Pretty sure Mush is slinking around somewhere too, but not sure where exactly."
With that, I wrangled a team of security robots – the newer antigrav models – and off I went. Skidmark needed to be informed that Reliabuilt employees and customers were off the list.
I briefly considered my approach as I flew; there was far too much chance of getting rightly charged for murder if I simply killed Skidmark, but I also needed to fuck him up badly enough that he would be physically incapable of causing further problems. While passing it off as an accident. Yes, an injury to the spinal cord should do the job quite nicely.
Soon enough, I caught a glimpse of Skidmark in all his 'glory', shouting obscenities at a condo block. To legally cover my ass, I sent notice to the PRT that I'd encountered Skidmark "on patrol", and requested backup. If everything went right, this would be over long before they got here.
I then activated my bodycam, and without even the slightest sound I touched down behind Skidmark. I tapped him gently on the shoulder, and as he whirled around I growled out the only warning the man would ever get.
"Reliabuilt employees and property are Off. Limits."
Skidmark scoffed,
"Fuck you, star cunt."
Then he went for something or other; I didn't wait to see what it was. Instead, I lunged and grabbed Skidmark, simultaneously saying "Fine, we'll do this the hard way!"
Then I threw him. The direction I'd thrown him towards had been unoccupied at the time of the throw, but one of the drones had been drifting that way, and "coincidentally" happened to line up its hard forwards edge with the back of Skidmark's neck right when their trajectories aligned.
With a sickening crack, Skidmark slid limply to the ground, and I immediately rushed over to administer first aid. There was no love lost, but this being an accident would be much easier to believe if I did my best to prevent Skidmark from dying of his injuries after the fact. This also let me covertly assess the degree of spinal damage the initial impact had inflicted, and if necessary increase it.
Fortunately, I didn't actually need to risk blowing my legal cover by doing that; all the information I could glean indicated that Skidmark was now a quadriplegic. That should do perfectly fine at keeping him from causing future problems. I also confirmed that his injuries weren't life-threatening. Good.
Three minutes after the initial notification I sent to the PRT, Velocity showed up.
"Laniakea, what happened here?"
I sighed,
"Skidmark got hurt worse than I meant to, and I've been administering first aid for the last few minutes. He's been out of it since the injury, and I've got reason to suspect spinal injuries."
The speedster nodded,
"Right, we already have an ambulance on the way. They should be here in a few minutes."
Anyway, I gave the PRT my bodycam footage of the altercation, and soon enough they hauled Skidmark off to… somewhere. Couldn't put him in a regular prison, or he'd die pretty quick on account of his newfound disability. Couldn't put him in a regular hospital either, or he'd trash the place with his power, paralysis or no.
Meh, not my problem anymore.
(Emmy)
The status of the Brockton Bay Revitalization Fund within Reliabuilt was a bit odd; strictly speaking it was a separate company operating as a non-profit, but it benefited from Reliabuilt's overall legal department and… I suppose the term "non-profit subsidiary" might be applicable? Either way, I was at least nominally the boss of both organizations.
Anyway, today I was interviewing an applicant for seed money. Normally I'd be delegating this, but the applicant in question was a parahuman.
"So, you want to open a martial arts school?"
The self-titled Sensei nodded.
"Correct. My power is extreme skill in analyzing people's movements and fluidly controlling my own body. This seems like something I could use to teach people who are interested in defending themselves, even though I myself have no formal training."
I thought for a moment.
"Could I hear an example, perhaps?"
Sensei clammed up. Not quite like he'd been caught lying, but like he was trying very hard to psych himself up for something he really didn't want to talk about. Eventually, he spoke.
"Six days ago, I was cornered by a group of ex-Empire men. I did not have my power then, but-"
I shook my head.
"Not quite what I meant. You don't need to tell me about your trigger. I want to know if you can teach."
Sensei let out a sigh of relief.
"I was a mathematics teacher at a high school for fifteen years. I was away on vacation when the Slaughterhouse Nine made a visit to said school, and there was no school to return to afterwards. I don't wish to discuss that matter further, but I'm willing to provide my credentials if you need them."
I thought for a moment.
"Would you, please?"
Sensei opened the briefcase he'd brought with him, and provided me with the relevant documents. Apparently his civilian name was Markus Rasp, his teacher's license was legitimate (though expired), and the fingerprints I got off him matched what was in the digital database.
"Good news, Sensei. Looks like you're approved for funding and assistance."
(Rachel)
Date Point: 0133, March 12, 2011
I snapped to awareness in a standing position. Four people were standing around me; I quickly identified them as Emmy, Melissa, Andrea, and Marcus Sykes.
Marcus spoke first.
"Rachel, are you feeling alright? Did the world knowledge directory integrate properly?"
I nodded.
"Yes. I'm in Brockton Bay, and I am a Reliabuilt product intended for sale to law enforcement."
Everyone looked flabbergasted and appalled, and I couldn't help but crack up after a few seconds.
"Hah, gotcha! I know you're my family and never had any intention of selling me, but you only ever get one chance for a prank like that."
Emmy and Andrea both facepalmed, Marcus started giggling, and Melissa grumbled,
"Not funny."
"Was too funny. Also, what's the deal with that encrypted directory?"
Marcus went very serious then.
"That directory contains absolutely top secret information, only kept at such high levels of secrecy out of necessity. If that information gets out at all? The world dies. Why that would happen is one of those incredibly dangerous secrets."
There was a pause, before Marcus continued.
"If you don't want to be burdened by those secrets, you don't have to. But if you do choose to learn it, the programs in that directory will render you straight-up incapable of spreading those secrets without an absolute guarantee of maintaining infosec."
I thought for a moment, before giving my answer.
"Sounds like you need the help. Gimme that encryption key."
(Melissa)
While Andrea, Marcus and Rachel got busy planning the latter's public debut, I was planning our next move against the Dynaliths with Emmy.
Emmy started,
"So, we need to find an unoccupied earth that's only under light surveillance, and set up our operations there."
I nodded,
"That's correct."
"We can't ship enough assets to really get things started from either of our factory complexes. Not without compromising on secrecy, which is unacceptable."
"That's also correct."
"Therefore, we need to find some other site to use as our jumping off point."
There was a long pause, before I finally had an idea. A horrible and insane idea, but one that could work.
"The Eagleton quarantine zone, it's perfect."
Emmy blinked.
"What. How?"
"Think for a moment; because it's a quarantine zone, information on what's going on in there is extremely limited. On top of that, the reason it's quarantined is because of aggressive robots. I do believe we know someone who can Master robots."
Emmy focused on the idea for a moment.
"Do you really think we can read Taylor in on this? Not to mention she'd need to be extremely selective with what she actually did to the Eagleton robots, to avoid tipping off her power."
I thought about it for a bit.
"If push comes to shove, we do have a couple other options. We could get some feedback from Dragon, or we could maybe duplicate Taylor's connection to her Dynalith and do it ourselves."
Emmy answered almost immediately.
"Dragon first. She's already shielded and read in on the problem, not to mention having a lot of resources to work with that we don't have direct access to."
(Marcus)
It was 2 PM on Saturday. Rachel wasn't even 24 hours old yet, and I was keeping an eye on the news. Sure enough, a news story about Bakuda's bombs being used to level a building quickly surfaced. The news program quickly brought on a PRT representative saying that an all-out manhunt for the bomb tinker was now in effect.
I nodded grimly, and activated my internal phone.
"You've reached the Palanquin." said the voice of a receptionist I'd met briefly during previous business discussions.
"It's Mr. E. Let Faultline know that the previously arranged contract to deal with a liability is now active. I'll be there with the first half of the pay within the hour. In cash, as agreed."
