40
The Rig was a buzzing hive of activity, and it was not a friendly kind of buzzing. No, this was a kicked anthill: as soon as the PRT had responded to the break-in at home, Taylor and Danny had been shuffled away and out of sight of cameras and police both, escorted to the Rig for safety and debriefing, respectively. Taylor and Sunny had been led to a nice, heavily defended waiting room and given a standard-issue jumpsuit to replace her pyjamas, while Danny had been given his costume (or a spare, perhaps) and kept being called away for this and that official statement or need, or just as often being approached by a uniformed PRT officer or one of the Protectorate who entered the room to interrupt Taylor and Danny's strained attempts at conversation. It was apparently starting to get on her father's nerves.
"Triumph, I appreciate what you're doing, but I've already given every bit of information I could to Armsmaster, it is almost six in the morning, and thus far nobody has been able to leave me alone for ten goddamned minutes, so I would really like to just have a cup of coffee and talk to my daughter. Yes? Good. Go."
Taylor rubbed at Sunny's ears, the wolf near-burying the girl under fur and fluff, and watched her hero father curse out one of his co-workers. "This is it. This is the most surreal day of my life thus far. That is a position with a lot of competition." Sunshine chuffed, a trifle uneasily. Taylor rubbed at her ears more to reassure her. "It's by a narrow margin, but still."
"If it's a narrow victory, then… can I ask what the second-most day is?" Danny moved to a chair nearby Taylor, the sight of her father's head on top of Chessman's body only reaffirming her decision.
"That time Sunny dug up a hot spring and then all the heroes and villains got drunk. Like, really drunk. You should have heard the things Assault was saying to Battery—are they married? It sounded like they were at least an item—or Lung mumbling and ranting at Purity. 'Stop being an uneducated heathen and come and play Go with us,' that sort of thing." In her lap, Sunny snorted at the memory, and wagged her tail a bit. "Uh, speaking of… Dad? I haven't, like… gotten you in trouble, have I? With the whole… parlaying with known villains and such."
"There've been a few… awkward questions," he hedged, as though both of them weren't skirting around the biggest ones of all, "But no, of course not. You're— well, I won't say you haven't been a person of interest for the Protectorate lately, Taylor, but your whole thing with the shrine and all has been… good. Good for the city and for you. Not so good for your old man's blood pressure, but y'know."
"Eheh..." Parts of it hadn't exactly been good for her own blood pressure, either. Though, the mention was a bit odd, unless… "Um. You—I mean the Protectorate—you haven't been… spying on the shrine or anything… have you?" The guilty look on Danny's face told her everything. "I see. And who will I need to speak to in order to have that rectified?"
"Ah, I guess that'd be Armsmaster, but—" Taylor prodded at Sunny until the wolf freed her to stand up. Danny waved his hands, saying, "—but most of it got taken down already, and I will speak to him about the rest as soon as he's available, okay?"
"Good," Taylor relented, and sat back down. "Given that I am running a neutral space that requires the cooperation of the shrine's visitors, having PRT surveillance would be a gross violation of that trust. I hope the PRT would not wish to compromise both their access to the shrine and its facilities, and my safety." Danny's face paled a bit, and he nodded.
"Excellent. That aside, then… what actually happened? At home, I mean. Did someone find out who you were and try to kill you?" She saw her father relax a bit as she shifted her tone away from Authority of Baachan and back into normalcy.
"Er… no, honey. I'm— I don't want to scare you, but…" Danny sighed, and gave her a rundown of the attack. Sunny's ears flattened against her head as they listened. "...it's a bit out of character for Skidmark, so we're not sure yet if it was actually something he ordered, or if his punks just got the idea on their own, but… well, either way, the Merchants are not going to have a good time of things. I might not have been their target, but attacking the home of a Protectorate hero? That does more than just attract attention. Whole team will be gunning for them, now, as well as whatever reinforcements we can call in and probably New Wave on top of it." Danny took off his glasses to rub at his eyes.
"I'm kinda surprised you'd need reinforcements? I mean… Merchants."
"Heh. It's not really about needing firepower, Taylor. Most of it is the display, making a show of it to remind villains that this is not acceptable. Most parahumans hold back from attacking each other at home— or at least if they do, they had better be certain they'll succeed and not get caught. Nobody wants their families involved, so when someone crosses that line, it tends to paint a really big target on their backs. An ounce of civility in this whole mess." He sighed again. "Well, that, and we'll need to hold the line on the ABB and what's left of the E88 while we concentrate on the Merchants. Can't get spread too thin, or there'll be attacks of opportunity."
Taylor tilted her head a bit, thinking. "Why not just request a cease-fire for the duration?"
"Not really that simple, Taylor. We can't just walk up to Lung or Kaiser and…" Danny blinked a couple times. "That is exactly what you're suggesting, isn't it."
"Neutral territory and liaison, remember? Write a couple notes and I'll pass them along. I know I can get a message to Lung easily enough, and I'm sure Sunny has an idea or two on Kaiser."
"That— would give some different options, I suppose. More time would let the Protectorate do a more thorough sweep of the territory, dismantle any drug dens or Squealer workshops we can find." Danny trailed off, thinking, then scrubbed a hand through his thinning hair and sighed. "It's very strange, talking about this with you."
"Yeah, um… you could say that." Seriously. Taylor wasn't entirely sure how upset she was allowed to be, here, considering she hadn't exactly been forthcoming about her summer project and everything that followed. But— Chessman? Really? The whole time? Oh god, he'd been at the Rig when Sunny tricked her into playing fetch with Armsmaster's toy halberd. Her frantic scramble to keep the TV turned off and all the newspapers hidden had been doomed from the start. How much else had he known the whole time?
"Taylor? You're getting kinda a sour look, there."
"...yeah. It's just— I can kinda understand not telling me about being Chessman. Kinda." Taylor huffed a bit, then continued. "But you knew I was going to the shrine the whole time, and never said anything? Even though the PRT thinks I'm a parahuman?"
"Not the whole time, exactly," he hedged. "Armsmaster had seen you painting, you remember, but we didn't know anything about the shrine until there was an incident with the city's weather. Lightning without any clouds or warning, massive changes in local humidity and sunlight; Shaker effects with that wide a range are not to be taken lightly, so surveillance was set up at the epicenter and that happened to be where you were." There was an unspoken question in his tone, and Taylor thought back to what he might be referring to.
"Oh… no, you don't have to worry about that."
"You know what it was, then?"
"Ssssssort of. I didn't really see it myself, but, uh… the first time I met Lung he… sorta-kinda punched me in the face." Taylor coughed, and wished for a cup of tea. "I'm not sure on the specifics, but I'm told that he was 'chastised' by Sunny shortly thereafter. Very shortly."
"Good Dog… struck Lung… with lightning. After he hit you," Danny said, very carefully. He owed Good Dog a case of beer and Lung a case of murder, it seemed.
"I won't say he's been on his best behavior since, because I'm still hoping what I've seen from him since is not the best he can do. And her name is Sunny, you know."
"I… see." Danny sat back in his chair to just… process this, for a bit. His little girl was a parahuman. His little girl was a parahuman with potentially city-wide powers. His little girl had slapped around Lung, and in return, got presents. Maybe her Master power was stronger than they'd thought. Armsmaster was going to lose his shit.
Any further brooding was forestalled by a quick knock at the door, which opened to admit Velocity. His costume looked a bit wrinkled, so either the speedster had been up all night, or he'd only just awoken. "Hey, Chessman—oh hi Brushstroke!—you're needed topside, we're almost ready and Legend'll be here any minute."
"Yeah, I'll be right—" "Legend?!"
Taylor's hand flew up to her mouth and her cheeks pinked as she caught Velocity's grin in her direction. Okay, yes, he might have been third in her Top 3 Favorite (Living) Triumvirate Heroes, but— Legend! Here! Could she call in that tour promise from Battery right now and maybe just maybe get his autograph? (Wait— her father was a hero. He saw the heroes every day. Could… could she get all the autographs?)
"I'll ask if he can stay a few minutes after the raid so you can meet him, okay?"
"I will get you so much dango."
"Sold!"
"Taylor, please stay here, the Rig is the safest place right now. We'll probably be staying here for a while, actually, I have no idea what we'll do about the house, and—"
"Wait wait. I'm not doing that." Taylor shook her head, cutting off her father's protests. "I have things to do, you know. I have school, I have work at the shrine, I have appointments to keep. I can't just hide here. Once Sunny gets back, I know she'll protect me, it's okay."
"...'gets back'?" Danny blinked, then looked at the empty couch cushions next to Taylor, covered in little white hairs. "Wha…"
"She slipped out after you finished telling me about the break-in." The heroes stared at her. Velocity abruptly vanished from the doorframe in a red blur. Taylor waved. "Come back safe."
Up on the flight deck, a good half of the city's superheroes had assembled, and were going over a few last-minute preparations for the heroic equivalent of a smash-and-grab on the Merchant territories. The Merchants had four known capes (and the possibility of other, unknown capes— but if they hadn't been advertised by the gang, then they were likely to be low-tier at best) and, while only Squealer had anything resembling known permanent residences, conflict within the Merchant territories had a high chance of drawing out Skidmark and a medium chance of luring Mush and Trainwreck. At least, the first time; once the Merchants realized that the hostilities would continue, the gang's leaders would start to scatter and shift over to guerrilla tactics, until the cost of attrition outweighed the benefit of arrests. It was a pretty good strategy for the relatively low-powered but deeply embedded Merchants under normal circumstances. These were not normal circumstances.
Legend, for all the attention he gathered simply by existing, didn't actually tend to promote fanfare. He could do speeches, certainly, but while Alexandria and Eidolon were remote and mythical figures, Legend was a family man. It lent him a certain approachability that the other Triumvirate members often lacked. It helped that the approachability was genuine.
Battery was quick to welcome her old mentor with a smile and an outstretched hand. Legend took one look at the hand, grasped it, and used the grip to pull Battery into a one-armed hug. Assault made an affronted sound, and got a grin and a handshake. "Battery! And Assault, hello! I hear you're all working hard down here. Half the Empire Eighty-Eight in a week, really?"
"Aha...ha. Yeah, it's… definitely been a thing, lately," Battery tugged at her gloves. "I'm not sure how much you've heard about local capes in the Bay in the last few months?"
"Not much, I have to say. It's all very mysterious. There's a lot of pictures of a dog online and a few rumors, but not much over official channels. Why?"
"Yyyyyeah. Well the dog is a cape."
"...what?"
"Cape duo," Assault explained, "And an open cape duo at that. That's kinda why this shindig started— Merchants attacked Brushstroke at her home. Bad enough, but she's Chessman's daughter."
"Oh, my. Is this a rescue, or is she okay?"
"Oh she's fine," Battery grinned. "Chessman was home at the time. You can imagine what happened next."
"Ha— yes, I suppose I can. But what was this about a dog?"
A red blur zipped between the speakers and skidded to a stop a couple feet away. Velocity held up his hands for attention. "Okay, important—oh hi Legend sir—has anyone seen Good Dog?"
"It accompanied Brushstroke to a secure visitor's room," Armsmaster's voice carried well, even keeping the clipped tone and sense of gritted teeth. "So if there are no further interruptions, could we get started?"
"Boss, about that, you see—"
"Hey—hold up—has anyone seen-- Good Dog?" Chessman arrived at the tail end of a sprint, huffing and trying to catch his breath. Armsmaster's teeth creaked, just slightly. "Because T— Brushstroke says she's missing."
Armsmaster stared at Chessman for a second, then turned away as he opened a panel on his armor's wrist and tapped at it. "Dragon, do you still have an eye on those low-flying monitor satellites?"
"I can, give me just a second…. Ah. The local air temperature over about a third of the city has increased by approximately 6 degrees Fahrenheit. I suggest that whatever you're doing, you hurry."
"Move out. Now."
* * *
The sunlight was harsh.
Every unrusted bit of metal in the Trainyards, every broken pane of glass gleamed with it, cast bright reflections across the rock and litter strewn ground. It was only dawn, but the Merchant territories blazed with the light of a high noon. The destitute and the malicious both crept away from the heavy paws that marched with purpose, because no matter the rumors or the cute photographs or the news programs, memory always failed to accurately report just how large Good Dog was.
Sunny moved quickly, but not so quickly that word couldn't spread. And the very moment that someone called for Skidmark, she started to run. The Merchants scattered like leaves.
She found Skidmark just as he was leaving the house he'd been squatting in. The gang leader cursed and she growled, a bone-trembling sound like thunder. Her jaws were large enough to crush his head like an egg, but she gripped his stained shirt instead, and started pulling. Bands of red and blue and purple force spread out along the ground, but a wave of her tail and they puddled like watercolors, and evaporated. Sunny dragged Skidmark over the ground for a mile or more, until they reached the highway.
She tossed him onto the asphalt. Skidmark rolled to a stop and groaned. "Shit— hey, man, what'd I do? The fuck did I do to you!?" He got to his scraped knees and then to his feet, lips curled in a snarl—
There was a crack as a piece of the road near his foot exploded, the sound like a gunshot. Skidmark staggered back a step, on reflex. A sudden gust of wind forced him back another. Another crack of an invisible gun, a third. Skidmark looked at the wide empty road behind him, then at the towering beast in front of him. The message was clear:
Start walking.
