Which is technically a non-lethal weapon.
Hmm. Omake? Omake.
In a Universe where Loom joins (joined?) the Wards.
Omake: The Tinker Approval Board
(aka put the Tinker-tech on my TAB)
In New York, there was a fairly nondescript office block just down the road from the Protectorate Tower, home-base of the New York team and center of the entire Protectorate organization. In this building guarded day and night by plain clothes PRT officers was every Tinkers worst nightmare... Aside from accidentally creating anti-matter outside the containment field, or arcing the flux capacitor and having it ground through you, or the nuclear battery malfunctioning and going into melt down, or...
Ahem.
Every Tinkers worst nightmare beyond their tech failing, the Simugh, Mannequin and Slaughterhouse 9...
The Tinker Approval Board!
Deep inside this building a trio of scientists were looking at a piece of Tinker tech they'd just received from Brockton Bay.
Sighing the first Scientist, an older man, picked up the manifest that come with the rather large and very heavy package. Reading it he let out a grunt of disgust.
"Oh, look. Another submission from Loom. I swear, if this is another one of her doomsday weapons..." The first Scientist began, only to be interrupted.
"Or Gauss anything." The second Scientist, this time a younger man said.
"Yes, or Gauss anything," the first Scientist said, looking annoyed at the second. "I swear I am going to just stamp everything she ever sends with denied even if it wouldn't hurt a kitten. Now lets see here... Hey where it go?"
The first Scientist started looking around, confused. He'd have sworn he'd just been holding the manuscript a sceond ago.
"Hmm... This sounds like it should be okay." The third Scientist, a middle aged woman said, reviewing the manuscript she'd snatched while the other two were distracted.
"What does it do?" The second Scientist grunted as out of the box, from amidst styrofoam packing, he lifted out a rather long long... gun.
There really was no other way to describe it. Oh, it didn't look normal certainly, definatly as space aged and futuristic as one would expect from a cheap science fiction film. It was large and made of the same dark grey almost black and matte colored metal as nearly all of Looms work. At one end, presumably the safe one, there was a large square oblong block inset with numerous vents which, from experience, they knew would light up an ominous green when turned on. Atop it was some kind of screen and a handle come trigger mechanism, more a palm grip for another of Loom's neural interfaces. At the bottom was a series of spiery legs that ended in rounded feet, apparently designed to magnetically lock the weapon onto a firing platform like a building, vehicle, Kid Win's hoverboard, or the still pending approval on Loom's bike.
The barrel of the weapon was fairly dull really, just a long sleek tube with four metal supports running as extended square ridges down the top, bottom and sides. However, at the far end, presumably the end to stay away from, was a large green gem, almost like an emerald, cut into, according to the manuscript, which did stand up to casual observation, a perfect sphere. Though given this was apparently one of seven spheres all perfectly folded via dimensional layering, into each other they were somewhat more dubious.
"So what's it do?" The second Scientist asked.
Reading, the third Scientist answered him.
"Apparently it creates and maintains a dimensional pocket. When fired, the space caught in the beam is folded into the dimensional pocket, removing any object, or person presumably, from real space." The third Scientist said frowning. She quickly flicked through the notes while the other two talked.
"Hmm," the first Scientist said. "That actually sounds non-lethal for once and not like a crime against nature. If she can simply shove any criminal she encounters into a pocket dimension, she could easily and painlessly capture someone."
The second Scientist rubbed the stubble on his chin, having fogotten to shave.
"Huh. Even better, it would completely negate many powers she's likely to come across and give most capes trouble containing, such as Brutes, Shakers, or higher end Srtikers. Faultline springs to mind from Brockton bay."
The first Scientist looked confused for a moment.
"Who?" The first Scientist asked.
"A mercenary. Never mind, the point is this is finally a piece of non-lethal tech from..." The second Scientist began but was cut off by the third.
"It kills people." The third Scientist said with a queasy smile.
"What?
How?" The second said, looking at her incredulously.
The third Scientist sighed, shaking her head as if appalled at her colleagues lack of understanding.
"There's no exit. Anything that gets sucked in, stay in. Forever." The third Scientist said.
The other two looked appalled, imagining a weapon which basically condemned anyone who was hit by a slow and cruel death by thirst.
"Why? Why would she design something like..." The second scientist said.
The first looked over the manuscript, finally looking at the heading and reading the brief description of the weapons purpose, instead of just the specs.
"Huh." The first Scientist, interrupting the brewing ethical debate as the third scientist argued with the first about using such a weapon. Pausing the second and third looked at the first. Looking back at them he stated the perfectly reasonable reason for making such a horrific and Geneva Convention breaking weapon.
"It's a vacuum cleaner."
