Ghost of a Chance (Worm X Ghost in the Shell)

[Seclorum]

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Ghost of a Chance
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Worm X Ghost in the Shell
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:Index:

Introduction (Arc 1):
Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8
Interlude Armsmaster

Ghost (Arc 2):
Part 1 , Part 2 ,

Omakes:
Private Sector , Thank you Admiral Akbar (Pt1) ,
Thank you Admiral Akbar (Pt2) , Corporate Investments , You dun goofed ,​

 

[Seclorum]

*Warning*
Some content may be disturbing to some readers, Gore and Body Modification.

---
Ghost of a Chance
GiTs!Taylor
Part 1
---​

My hands cramped up again and I put the soldering iron down.

I grabbed a stress ball and started squeezing it and working my wrists around while I cracked my neck.

Ever since that bitch did this to me… I had been broken.

A "Flight" down the stairs could be relatively painless if you took it the right way.

I had not.

Both arms shattered, legs battered and bruised, and a cracked patella.

It still kept me up at night, the memory. the shocking feeling that shot up my arms when my wrists internally detached and severed the nerves.

Even to this day, I still wasn't recovered. My pinky and ring fingers on both hands refused to heal properly, the nerve was not quite attached right.

Panacea had a six month waiting list to even get a shot at seeing her. And even then, I was still mostly healed. Doctors just kept saying I needed more physical therapy. So why would she even give me the time of day, when there were a hundred thousand cancer patients who needed her more than I did?

But that's where all this came in.

Taylor, fix thyself.

I had scrounged for parts to build something amazing. A new body. A way out.

It was crude, and would barely be able to move and walk but it was the best I had available.

I just hoped it all worked.

I'd had to steal from a medical supply store to get the IV and solution to use with it.

But I was almost ready. Just a few more points to solder, and I could leave this broken husk, and emerge a beautiful butterfly!

The iron was warm in my hands as I hunched over the system. With a few moments work I completed the transfer mechanism.

I got up and stretched my back from all the kinks that developed from hunching over, for the last time.

Crossing the basement I mounted the steps slowly and at the top I made sure the bolt was secure to keep the room locked until I opened it.

As I descended back down I gazed at all my work and smiled.

It was covered by an old stained sheet for the most part, I tore that away and flung it into a wall so I could gaze at my creation.

With a soft caress on her cheek I sat down on the crates behind her. It was uncomfortable as all hell, but for what was about to happen. It was alright.

I fixed the IV into my arm and started the slow drip. It didn't have to be perfect, it just had to work until I woke up.

With a sigh I leaned back and fixed my head into the frame that immobilized my head from shifting at all. It was important that my head not move during the procedure.

I reached up and flicked open the read cover on the switch that would change me.

"Here goes."

I flicked the switch.

I felt a cool sensation come in through my IV and up into my arm.

I was sleep...sleepy…

I wasn't awake for this part, for obvious reasons.

After the machine had knocked me out, scalpels on crude arms came out and cut down to my skull. Then came the bone saw and drills.

They made short work of opening my skull, as well they should. I had programmed them myself.

Then they carefully lifted the top of my skull completely off, it was careful because I wanted to save as much as possible to speed healing.

Once the top of my skull was securely put away, a specialized flat arm came down and slid down the small gap between my brain and skull and it slipped deep deep down towards my neck, before a small set of scissors neatly and precisely snipped my spinal cord just below the brain stem.

It was pulled out and reinserted a couple more times to sever nerves around the periphery of the brain, the eyes most importantly.

Once everything was snipped my brain was gently lifted up and placed into a hardened case.

Severed nerves were connected to internal leads from the case, specialized electrodes were guided into every part of my brain making my brain more of a pincushion.

Then the case was sealed closed.

The case was lifted up and set into my new body, connections mating perfectly to link my brain to the body.

The arms closed up my new body's metallic skull plate and set the artificial hair in place.

With a his, a prepared solution was introduced into my cyber brain, that neutralized the sedative.

I came awake very quickly.

My new arms rose and fingers flexed with small servos whining.

A smile came to my face.

"TAYLOR! OPEN THE DOOR HONEY!"

Dad was pounding on the basement door.

'Too damn early!' I thought as I sat up and looked behind me.

My old body was still technically alive, but I had to stabilize it and install the support systems it would need to survive.

"Not now Dad! I'm busy!"

He bashed against the door, "OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!"

"NOT NOW DAD!"

I got up and rushed over to my old body and started working on placing the implants in the cavity. left by my brain.

I had to scoop out my old eyes and some more spinal cord to make the necessary implants fit.

Just my luck that someone would really hit the door and break it open while I had those eyes in my hands.

A short, kid, in armor with pistols in his hands and a fancy visor covering the top of his face was standing there, with dad right behind him.

I looked up at them, "It's not what you think."

 

[Seclorum]

*Warning*
Some content may be disturbing for reader, Gore and Body modification.

---
Ghost of a Chance
GiTs!Taylor
Part 2
---​

Things proceeded about as well as to be expected.

"HANDS UP!" The kid with the fancy pistols aimed them at me, while dad rushed forward and punched me in the face.

Predictably, my head was made from sterner stuff than his hand. He howled in pain while I fell backwards. My balance still a bit off so soon after integration.

My arms windmilled and the eyes went flying as I crashed into my old body and flipped up and over it to land in a heap.

"Don't move!" The kid had rushed over to stand on the other side of my old body and he kept both pistols aimed at me, while he kept glancing over at my old body.

"Look, I need to stabilize it before it dies. If you don't let me do that you really will cost me the ability to have my body anymore."

I was looking him dead in the eyes, I knew he kept my gaze because his mouth was twitching and his pistols were wavering.

"What do you need to do?" He asked.

"Install the implants to allow the body to stay alive for one, keep the heart pumping and lungs breathing. Then affix the interface modules that would allow me to put my brain back."

"Your… brain?" He seemed to go a bit green around the gills.

"Yes. my brain."

He pointed one of the pistols at my old body, "What happened to her's?"

I sighed, "I am her. Now either let me up or shoot me."

I could see the hesitation in his face, in his arms.

Dad was sobbing on the floor, cradling his broken hand.

"Shut up dad. I've got work to do." I got up.

The kid stiffened then backed off to watch me work.

I had even less time to get things in place and going.

I worked quickly and affixed the proper neural links and kick started my old heart.

Kid was watching me like a hawk when I pulled out the saw and started cutting down the skull.

"What are you doing?"

"Making space and reinforcing the cavity. Bone is too weak to properly support the Cyberbrain properly, so I'm going to fake most of the appearance of bone for the skull and rely on a reinforced shell to go around the cyberbrain module."

I had hoped to salvage my old eyes, but the bugs got to them first.

Ew. I wasn't going to touch them now.

So I started installing cybernetic sockets to let me take my new eyes and transfer them over. I didn't have the resources to make more new eyes just yet.

"Is she stable?"

I wiped my brow, more from habit than need and nodded, "Yeah. It's going to be fine for a few hours at least. Till I've gotta eat something."

Dad by this point had sat up and while still crying his eyes were wide open and staring at me, "Why? Why Taylor?"

I fixed him with a glare, "Why not dad? My body was a broken husk. It hurt just to go to the fucking bathroom! I can make it better! I have made it better!" I jumped into the air and then did a little dance.

Then just to prove my point further, I picked up a brick from back when they had gotten the fireplace remodeled, and exerted a little pressure.

The brick exploded into powder in my hand.

Dad's eyes were wide and the Kid's mouth was wide open.

We all looked up when we heard the heavy sounds of boots stomping upstairs.

It was quite a surprise when a blue stick with some kind of camera was stuck out into the doorway leading into the kitche.

"Kid Win, is everything alright?" A male voice came from upstairs.

The Kid sighed, "YES! It's," He looked at Dad, my old body, then me, "It's ok. If more than a bit disturbing."

"I'm coming down."

One of if not the most recognizable local hero came stomping down our basement stairs.

Armsmaster.

I could tell when he saw my old body, skull still open, because he nearly fell down the stairs.

"What is going on?"

I beat Kid to the punch, "These two," I pointed at dad and the Kid, "Interrupted a very sensitive and time critical operation!"

He seemed to regard me for a few moments, "And you are a friend of the deceased?"

"No you idiot! I am her! She is me! I just made a new body to use while I fixed my old one!"

"I see." He turned to look at dad and his rapidly color changing hand, "And what's wrong with him?"

"He jumped to conclusions." I said.

Dad barked out a laugh, "Can you blame me? I think it's broken."

I nodded, "It probably is. I heard a crack when he punched my head."

Armsmaster kneeled down next to dad and started to apply a splint, "You should probably go to a hospital sir. Get it checked out."

"What about Taylor?"

"I'll be fine dad. I've got two wonder heroes here to protect me this time."

---

Interrogation was boring as hell.

Oh they didn't call it that, they kept referring to it as an interview, but I had plenty of experience being interrogated.

Luckily, most of the people got unnerved and one even puked her guts out when I described what I had done.

I unnerved a few more when I took my left hand completely off and using manipulators built into my fingertips on my right hand, started tweaking in the stump of my left arm.

Finally, Kid Win and Armsmaster came back in and they had a surprising face with them.

Panacea.

Her eyes were downcast but still, she was here.

"Huh, build a new body and transplant your brain into it and suddenly you can jump to the head of the line for your services."

"I'm sorry." She said in a hushed tone.

"I'm not. I'm going to be better than you could ever have made me."

She shook her head, "It's not that. I… I couldn't save it."

This got my attention, and I fitted my hand back into place with a snap.

"What do you mean?"

"Your body died Taylor." Armsmaster blurted out.

My tone was frosty, "What?"

Kid took my hands in his, "Something must have gone wrong but your body stopped doing something properly and by the time we got her," He motioned to Panacea, "there it was too late. Too much damage too quickly."

"You idiots! This is exactly why I didn't want to come here! I could have fixed it!"

I stood up and started pacing.

Armsmaster spoke with authority, "Taylor. Please sit down."

I turned a baleful gaze on him, "Why? So you can kill me for real this time?"

They all flinched at my words.

I needed to get out. The walls felt like they were crushing me.

Armsmaster seemed to react the quickest, like he was expecting it. But he was still far too slow.

I flashed to the door and my body launched through the air, broke the hinges clean off.

My feet pounded on the cheap linoleum floor.

I angled my body nearly parallel to the floor before launching into a spinning jump to the end of the hallway.

I saw the end of a grappling claw skitter across the floor where my feet had just been before my leap.

I turned and saw a window opposite the elevators and with a little run up I leapt through the tempered glass.

Tiny shards flew around me as I sailed through the air towards a nearby building.

It was at moments like these that I appreciated the gymnastic package I had compiled for my movement algorithm.

I twisted and brought my feet forward and neatly punched through the glass of the office building, about four stories lower than where I had been in the PRT building.

AN: Due to feedback I edited the last sentence out with Taylor Taunting. It was an idea that didn't quite pan out imho.

 

[Seclorum]

---
Ghost of a Chance
GiTs!Taylor
Part 3
---​

It was around this time, I had to seriously reevaluate what the fuck I was going to do now.

My body, my old body, was dead.

If they kept it cold I still might be able to salvage it, but it would require a heck of a lot more modification and upgrades to fix than I could reasonably expect to make.

But I stopped and asked myself, 'Why bother?'

This new body was infinitely better!

Faster, stronger, tougher.

Why deal with that old and broken meat I used to call a body?

People were giving me looks as I walked down the street. I looked at my arms and winced, the seams were plainly visible. I hadn't had time or resources to create a more realistic skin substitute.

Sighing, I resolved to ignore the looks. They didn't matter anyway.

Screw them! They didn't know what I had been through!

But in trying to ignore the looks and whispering, it brought me back to the question.

'What the heck am I going to do now?'

I didn't feel like going home, yet there really wasn't much I could do without tools or money anyway.

Money?

I stopped and skipped backwards until I came to be in front of an ATM.

I hummed as I inspected the machine until I found an exposed USB port on the back.

With barely a thought I grabbed a cable that extended from a hidden reel in my neck and plugged it in.

The software was, to put it mildly, a joke.

I tricked the system into dispensing a pair of twenty dollar bills, then wiped the past five minutes from the video recording.

Pocketing the cash I skipped along the road.

There was some kind of club ahead, I could see the line going down the block.

I got an idea.

And if there is one thing I learned from mom, a Hebert with an Idea is a sight to behold.

The bouncer took a good look, up and down, the letch. But he nodded and let me straight in, much to the groans of the other patrons who had been waiting.

I smirked, knowing exactly what tricked him into letting me in. They were spectacular after all.

The beat pulsed all around me as I entered.

The house lights were off but there were enough colors flashing from the stage and dance floor that everything was illuminated anyway.

I brushed past a scowling blonde who left in a hurry while I stepped down towards the bar.

I had never ordered anything before and the barkeeper seemed to scowl and look suspicious but he nodded and dispensed a Coke when I asked.

I just turned to watch the people dance and sip my coke.

The beat and everyone dancing made me want to join in, but I didn't trust my movement algorithm without some kind of patch for dancing. I hadn't even considered it when I first put everything together.

Someone slid up next to me and said, "Hey there beautiful."

I turned my head to look at him.

My first thought was, 'Dear god this guy is Orange!'

But it was deeper than that. He wasn't just Orange. He had small scales over his face, chest, and arms.

His whole face was a bit elongated outwards and he had a tail, swinging behind him.

He was more than a bit disconcerting.

He flashed me a brilliant smile, "Hows about you and me go upstairs and we get to know each other better?" His eyebrows, what little there was to suggest them, twitched upwards.

"Excuse me? What?"

He reached out and poked my arm, at the seam, "We got something in common, and I'd like to talk. Got some friends who might like to meet you too."

'Did he just invite me to what I think he did?'

"Eww! Creep!" I threw the remains of my coke in his face.

A giant of a man in a large overcoat and hood waddled up, "Excuse me. I'm sorry for my friend if he offended you."

'Wow this guy is monotone.'

I looked the big guy up and down. There wasn't an inch of skin exposed.

'Man, why didn't I think of that? Oh yeah, I didn't have the time.'

I frowned at the reminder of just why I was here instead of working.

The big man motioned to the bartender, "Please get the lady anything she wants, on the house."

"Right Gregor. Old newt struck out again?"

"Hey! I resemble that remark!" The Orange guy groused.

The bartender laughed, "I think the young lady is underage too. Don't want to get in trouble buddy."

Mr. Orange looked me up and down and whistled, "Damn girl. How old are you?"

"I was Sixteen. But it's been a long day. I feel almost like new again." I flashed them a grin.

They had no idea how true that was.

The big man, Gregor, turned to me, "Excuse me Miss. But based on your appearance," He pointed to the seams on my arms, "There are some things we would like to ask you."

'God damn, are there giant glowing neon signs to these things?'

"Ask away." I countered.

He looked around and then said, "Perhaps somewhere a bit more private?"

I looked at the bartender, "Do you trust this guy?"

"Who Gregor? Guy's harmless. Big old teddy bear."

I turned back to Gregor and nodded, "Sure. Lead away."

Mr. Orange groaned, "Man. I get shot down by a teenager and the Snail picks her right up like that!" He snapped his fingers.

 

[Seclorum]

---
Ghost of a Chance
GiTs!Taylor
Part 4
---​

Gregor lead me to a set of stairs and we ascended to the rooms above the club.

It was surprising how much the floor cut down on the thumping music up here.

Mr. Orange trailed along behind us and he saw my gaze on the floor, "Sound dampening materials. Cost an arm and a leg but we couldn't live without them."

I stared at him, "Why are you following us?"

He cocked his head and crossed his arms, "I live here." He crossed the lounge space and flopped onto a couch opposite a big screen TV then started flipping channels.

"Newt! You better not have brought another one of your conquests up here!" An older womans voice yelled out from down a hallway.

He raised his head and shouted down at her, "I didn't, mom. But Gregor did!"

A pair of doors opened, one on either side of the lounge space.

From the direction of the older womans voice, came a young looking woman with stern features and long black hair. She had a moist rag in her hands that she was using to methodically scrub them.

From the opposite direction came a younger girl with curly brown hair.

Both of them started looking me up and down with subtle glares.

"Gregor. Who's this?"

Gregor stepped in front of me and put his hands up in a placating gesture, "It's not what you think. I merely wanted to talk to her more privately."

The younger girl came up behind me and started circling and inspecting me, she poked at the seams on my arms, "Hey. This is interesting."

Mr. Orange, Newt, raised his hand and said, "The weird seams, yeah I know."

I was really starting to feel self conscious about them and I crossed my arms in front of me to protect them, "What's so special about it to you people?"

The older woman gently pushed Gregor out of the way and motioned to me to show her my arms.

Gregor started to take off his coat, hat, and thick scarf.

Newt sat up and just looked at me.

I extended my right arm and the woman took it and turned it this way and that before running a finger along the seams.

The younger girl put her hands on her hips, "Do you know where you come from? Any memory loss at all?"

I cocked my head to the side, "Yes and no."

The woman held my hand between hers, "Explain."

"Yes I know where I come from. I was born here. Not this club but this city. And no I don't have any memory loss."

By this point Gregor had exposed his skin to the world.

A striking translucent blue. With some hard growths here and there.

I couldn't help but stare.

Newt was odd enough, but at least he seemed to be more, human.

"I know what I look like must be strange and frightening."

"Well, yes it is. But. You seem like a nice guy."

He smiled at me before sitting down in a chair nearby.

The woman let go of my hand and Sighed, "You have powers."

"Yes? I mean I made this all myself." I waved up and down my body to illustrate my point.

The girl returned to her room, "I'll let you guys give her the talk."

"Sit down please. There are some things we should probably tell you about."

She turned and pulled up a pair of cheap chairs and spun one around for me.

We sat and she began, "There are a few things to know about being a parahuman. Like the unwritten rules."

"Unwritten rules?"

Newt chimed in, "Basically don't nark on civilian identities of others. Don't go after families of others."

"Why?"

It honestly puzzled me why you wouldn't go after say a villain's identity and family.

The woman sighed, "It keeps the threat of it happening to you down. It preserves the fragile peace between the factions. And because if you don't, everybody will come down on you as a united force. It's happened a few times now so everyone tries real hard to prevent it happening again."

"O...kay. That makes a twisted sort of sense."

"Also," She cleared her throat, "You said you built… stuff right?"

I nodded.

"Well that's a whole nother target on your back. That makes you a Tinker, and Tinkers are some of the most dangerous Parahumans you will ever encounter. Because they can change what they can do. They get better over time, more equipment, better refinements. It also makes you a hot commodity for recruitment."

"What?"

"Plenty of gangs actively look for Tinkers to recruit. Because of that force multiplication effect. Because normal people can use your tech in most cases. Only you can really build it, but if you make a fancy gun that shoots lets say, spiders, at people. And it's simple enough to use by just pressing a trigger? The normal people can use it. So you could arm a whole bunch of people with spider guns and that can give them a huge advantage when fighting others."

"Oh," I looked down for a moment, "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because we are all Parahumans up here. And well, we thought you were like them." She pointed a thumb over her shoulder at Newt and Gregor.

Newt jumped to his feet, "Newter at your service." He bowed theatrically.

"Newter? That's uhhh, that's different."

"Friends and Family call me Newt. Cause near as we can figure I'm part newt now." He turned and flopped back onto the couch.

Gregor was next and he also bowed as he introduced himself, "My name is Gregor. Gregor the Snail."

I smiled at him, "Nice to meet you."

The woman smiled at me and held a hand on her chest, "My name is Faultline. And everyone up here is part of my crew. Even Spitfire, who is not exactly the most social of people."

"I heard that!" She shouted through her door.

They all looked at me expectantly.

'What should I call myself?'

It took me a while to wrestle my various thoughts on the subject.

'I was something ugly and broken, but I've transformed myself into this… new form. I can't go back. I'm forever altered by this. Like a stain. A blot of color on my soul, on the wings of this new butterfly I have made. Light, light filtering through those wings with a new color… color… oh what was that word…'

"Chroma." I blurted out suddenly.

They all seemed to accept that with nods, "Nice to meet you Chroma."

Newt sat up, "So Chroma, you got any bits left unchanged?"

I thought about it, "Not really. I mean I've still got my brain but I can't exactly put it back now. Stupid Armsmaster."

"Armsmaster. What did that old rustbucket do this time?" The woman seemed intrigued.

"Well I had just finished transfering my brain to my new cyberbrain case and integrated into this body…"

Newt broke in, "Woah woah woah, you cut out your own brain? Wow!"

"It wasn't that hard. But as I was saying, I had just finished the first stage when before I could fully stabilize my old body to survive without my brain, Kid Win and my dad broke down the door and well let's just say it didn't go so well. I evidently didn't take enough time to properly do the job since Kid was freaked out a bit, dad was panicking, and then when Armsmaster came down he pretty much rushed me off to be interviewed over at the PRT building. They came in not to long ago and told me my old body was dead."

"Shit." Newt sat back hard at that.

"Yeah. That's putting it mildly."

 

[Seclorum]

---
Ghost of a Chance
GiTs!Taylor
Part 5
---​

Faultline turned my shoulder a bit and said to me while I was leaving, "Hey. Stay safe out there kid."

"I will." I waved while continuing down the stairs and back through the club proper.

It was only once I hit the street that I remembered, I never did get that drink from the bar.

Oh well. Not like I'm going to miss a coke anyway.

The streets were cold and lonely, but I had my thoughts to keep me company.

'Just what am I going to do now?'

That question kept circling my brain.

I wasn't intending on walking anywhere specific, but I guess my thoughts betrayed me.

Home.

I sighed and ascended the stairs. Knowing to skip the third step because it was broken.

It was also hard to miss the van parked in our driveway beside dad's rusty old beater.

I gave them all a nice warning by knocking first before I opened the door, "I'm home!" I called out while swinging the door open and stepping inside.

Five people greeted me in the living room.

Dad. For obvious reasons he had sore red ringed eyes. His hand wasn't in a splint anymore so I guess he got some of Panacea's care.

'Lucky bastard.'

Kid Win. He seemed to have been talking animatedly before I showed up, what with his mouth still open and his hands raised up.

Panacea. She didn't seem like she was that interested in Kid's tale. Her hands were fidgeting in her lap, and when I came in she didn't look up to greet my eyes. She instead scrunched down deeper into her seat.

And floating above her in a reclining position was her sister, Glory Girl.

It was the last one who spoke first when she floated over to me, "Hey look, We're really sorry for everything…"

I wanted to yell at them, I wanted to scream and shout. But what would that really get me?

Instead I sighed and pinched the brow of my nose, a reflex from when I actually needed glasses.

"Please tell me you at least kept the body cold?"

Armsmaster shifted, "Yes. Once it was clear there was little we could do to stop it, we put it on ice."

"I can probably still fix it, if given enough time and resources."

Glory Girl looked between us and made the universal gesture for time out, "Wait wait wait. I thought it was dead meat? Like unsalvageable."

I rolled my eyes, "I make stuff. Damaged or dead tissue can be regrown or replaced. I will just have to replace more than I was originally planning too. My problems were more nerve and skeletal damage. So the core organs would have been just fine. Although I have ideas to replace those with more efficient implants anyway. Honestly, the biggest loss is the skin."

Panacea looked up with puffy red eyes to rival my dads, "But… but… I couldn't save it, you!"

I plopped down in the chair they had thoughtfully left vacant, "It annoys me more that they would call you in, rather than get me to fix it. I'm the one who knew exactly what was going on. I'm the one who got pulled away before I could ensure everything was stable."

"But you said it was stable." Armsmaster bluntly blurted out.

I turned on him, "It seemed stable at the time. I would have to check it regularly to ensure it actually was. The human body is incredibly complex and dynamic and things can change that I might not have accounted for on the initial inspection after the surgery, that you all so kindly interrupted."

Dad leaned forward and held his face in his hands, "Why Taylor? Why do that to yourself? The Doctors said you were getting better!"

"I wasn't dad. It was getting worse. Do you know what it's like to have to pop a pain pill every four hours to feel at least only somewhat broken? To go to physical therapy and see all these happy smiling faces who can't let anything impinge on their happy rainbow soaked world? Every step was a new agony, every touch a new knife of pain slicing through my body. The only thing… the only thing that kept me going was my work. My work that you all nearly ruined!"

Everyone except Glory Girl winced at my scathing remarks. She instead just crossed her arms and said, "So? Not everything is about You, you know. Sure your life sucked, sure things happened and sure some things got ruined. Suck it up and deal with it."

I glared at her, "That's Why I'm here. Running isn't going to solve anything, no matter how good it feels to actually be able to do it again. It will just dig me deeper into a hole until I can't escape from it."

"So." Glory Girl gently bobbed in the air, "What're we going to do about it now?"

I looked towards the kitchen and the basement door beyond it, "I've got to figure out just what I've got to work with and what I can salvage of my tools. Then I've gotta check on the body and inventory just what I can salvage and what I'll have to replace."

Armsmaster held up a hand, "There is also the matter of your, Ahem, Burglaries to be addressed."

I turned to Panacea, "You're familiar with the medical field right?"

She was startled out of her little pity party, "What?"

"How much do you expect people would be willing to pay for Joint replacements? Immune system boosters? General fixer upper things?"

She scrunched her hands up, "I wouldn't know. I just heal people. I don't do brains…"

I dropped a fist into my open palm, "Well I do. How much do you think that's worth?"

"What?" She went pale as a sheet.

"Now hold on here…" Armsmaster tried to derail us.

"Sure it may look gruesome, but I can fix brains just fine. Better even. A lot of my more advanced work requires a cyberization of the brain anyway!"

I was on a roll. Ideas and concepts flashing through my brain at light speed, "And with Panacea here to check my work, I'm sure I could get a legal pass to help people out. Plus, she kinda owes me…" I got up and rushed to the basement while rattling off various concepts for different procedures.

Armsmaster sighed and palmed his face, "Tinker Fugue. Classic Tinker Fugue."

Kid win nodded beside him.

 

[Char-Nobyl]

Honestly, my assumption up until now was that @Seclorum's "nonstandard affiliation" comment meant she would end up working for Coil.

Not the Undersiders, Coil.

She's alone, she's angry, the PRT's skullfucked her and left her trapped in a shitty first-gen surrogate body - and then hey, here's someone who's also unhappy with the way things are being run. Someone who has the money and resources she needs to give her platform sensory capabilities beyond a camera and the cannibalized remains of a department store microphone. Alternatively, someone oddly knowledgeable on how to destroy her new body and in command of well-trained mercenaries with laser rifles that can be used to accomplish said goal.

Cue Taylor creating GitS tech for Calvert and his mercenaries, eventually culminating in her looking back at the effects of her decision and having to ask herself hard questions about the ethicality of her choices and the validity of her initial motives.

I'm... honestly not sure where this is going now, and not in the "oh my god, I'm so hype for the next update!" kind of way.

If she joins the Wards, she'll be effectively banned from developing any kind of transhumanist Tinkertech or independently-functional AI because of "safety concerns" (a.k.a. "surgery is icky, robots are scawy"), which wipes out 80% of GitS' technology and leaves her with no options aside from 'creatively interpret my Tinker specialty until I can use it to develop a taser - or, if PR gets any say, a magical pink smiles ray - and then go risk my life against random crooks.'

Going independent leaves her with no resources... for about three weeks, at which point she's "recruited" by one of the gangs and forced to pump out Terminators for them.

She might be able to get an invite from Dragon, but then we get twenty chapters of low-key tech experimentation, like Heromaker's Legacy without the looming backstory, or Saint goes apeshit, fires off Ascalon, and then carpet-bombs Taylor's base to eliminate the Abominable Intelligence and its vile Heretek ally. The only other option I can see is "I Have Awoken 2.0: Cyborg Edition", which just seems lazy.

I suppose she could just kidnap people off the streets and begin the Cyberman Empire, but that seems supremely unlikely.

Click to shrink...

Ooh. I like that.

Another possible route for Taylor could be to...actually, I think I'll do a quick writeup for it. Also, I feel like I've spent a lot of time being critical of the latest chapters, so here you go: Private Sector.

---------

"That's...a very generous offer, Mr. Fleischer."

"Your daughter has tremendous potential, Mr. Hebert," James Fleischer, the...something of Medhall, said from his side of the desk, "It would be a disservice to us and an insult to you if we were to treat her otherwise. The potential advances in neurosurgery alone would be worth this offer. Which is why Ms. Hebert is free to renegotiate her salary at the end of the first fiscal year of her employment to better reflect her value to Medhall."

Taylor was unnaturally still when she concentrated like this. That bothered her. She had improved her body by leaps and bounds, but that was largely because she had fully intended the transfer to be temporary and there were simply so many simple improvements she could make. The external appearance was the easiest thing to change. It was the inner workings that she really wanted to work on, the things that would let her actually behave like she was still flesh-and-blood. She hated that her nervous tics were replaced by a total lack of movement. She hated needing to choose between manually blinking or setting her eyelids to open and close on a timer. She hated all the things she'd lost almost as much as she resented the people who had taken them away from her.

"You don't need to make any major decisions right now," Mr. Fleischer filled the silence, "Whether you accept or decline is your choice to make, on your own time."

Taylor didn't let her irritation show on her face. Decline. Right. As if she had a choice.

As part of their 'negotiations,' Medhall was allowing them to use their legal team to deal with the "formalities" stemming from the stolen medical supplies. The Protectorate insisted that she wouldn't face criminal charges as a part of some allowances the law had for actions made following a trigger event, but the meetings and paperwork never seemed to stop, and there was always that implication that if she reconsidered and joined the Wards, all these problems would go away.

Medhall wasn't much better. Their legal team was saving them a lot of time and money, but that would only last as long as they thought she would work for-

"-aylor?" Her body twitched as she realized she'd drifted. She let her embarrassment show.

"I'm sorry. I...drift sometimes," she apologized.

"It's no trouble," Fleischer smiled, "I was just saying that it's your choice whether you accept or decline. And regardless of your choice, Medhall's legal team will assist you with dismissing those bureaucratic formalities."

Huh?

"Huh?" she cursed inwardly that same instant, "Sorry, I mean...they'll still help us?"

"Of course," Fleischer nodded, "That was intended as an offer of good faith, not conditional on any deal made with us," he cleared his throat and actually looked a little embarrassed himself, "I apologize if we gave the impression it was the latter. Medhall has no interest in coercing you into an unfavorable agreement."

"But...why?" Danny opened his mouth to say something, but she continued before he could, "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but why would you keep helping us even if I don't come to work for you?"

"Officially? It's as I said: a gesture of good faith. Unofficially?" he leaned forward slightly, "You show a whole lot of promise. Obviously, we'd like it if you came here to work with us, but we won't hobble you out of spite if you choose to decline, and we'll be glad to know that the choice you make isn't because you were harassed or coerced into it."

"I...could I look the papers over again?" she asked carefully.

"Certainly," Fleischer nodded and pressed a button on his desk phone, "Jessica, would you bring in the Hebert files?"

"One moment, sir."

Sure enough, a tall, statuesque blonde in a well-tailored suit and skirt entered, carrying a bundle of papers in the crook of one arm. Taylor suppressed a pang of irritation. 'Jessica' reminded her a bit too much of Glory Girl, though mostly just in appearance. While the cape had been cocky and self-assured, Jessica acted every bit as professional as her clothes implied.

"Unless I'm mistaken, I didn't introduce you yet," Fleischer stood up as he accepted the files, "Jessica Biermann, meet Daniel and Taylor Hebert."

"A pleasure to meet you both," she nodded politely, shaking hands with Danny and-

-Taylor froze for a moment. There wasn't even a flicker of hesitation as Fleischer's assistant turned and shook her hand. Even the PRT officials, whose job had them working alongside parahumans, were uncomfortable shaking hands with her. They either hesitated to initiate contact, pulled their hand back a little too quickly, or both. Sometimes they didn't even offer her a hand, and Taylor had come to hope for that. It was better than being reminded that they treated shaking hands with her like sticking their hands in a vice-grip.

"Will that be all, sir?"

"Yes, thank you Jessica," Fleischer sat back down as his assistant left the room, "Now then-"

---------

James Fleischer watched the Heberts leave on the CCTV cameras monitoring the parking lot. The Medhall property was considered quite safe, but you could never be too careful. He only turned his attention elsewhere once they were safely in their car and in motion.

Despite the obvious limitations of her artificial body, Taylor Hebert was like an open book. As a father, James felt for her. Her own father clearly loved her and meant well, but he was already struggling to keep up with everything around him in the wake of his wife's tragic death, and no parent is every really prepared for their child being a first-generation parahuman. When she hesitated while shaking Jessica's hand, it drove home how lonely the girl must be.

No, not lonely. Just alone. Surrounded by people and alone nonetheless, he thought. She probably would have welcomed being left alone even before triggering, but now she was being hounded by people and groups who wanted her talents and nothing else, as if her mind and soul were any less human than anyone else's.

Medhall would be a good thing for her. She would have a place to work and (literally) improve herself, and there would be people around her who knew what it was like to be regarded as something less than completely human. Therein lay James' only real regret in all of this. Taylor Hebert would be brushing shoulders with the capes of Empire Eighty-Eight, and she wouldn't even know. Not yet, at least. Now was absolutely not the time to reveal secrets like that. The Empire might have been hungry for a Tinker in their ranks, but Taylor needed friends before she needed comrades, and expecting her to start directly contributing to the Empire would drive her away almost as quickly as the Protectorate and PRT had.

But her background...Christ. He knew that Winslow had fallen into disrepair, both in the building and the administration, but he didn't realize it had gotten this bad. Negligence was one thing, but he couldn't conceive how Taylor's situation could go unnoticed and the culprits unpunished without the staff actively condoning it, or at least actively looking the other way. They had even had the gall to insist that Taylor had tripped down the stairs. There was mention of someone's parent being a lawyer and a threat of legal action, but that kind of clout should only go so far.

It didn't matter much, in the end. James hadn't broached the subject yet, but it would be child's play to arrange a transfer from Winslow to Arcadia or, ideally, Immaculata. That had been another strategic choice on James' part. Taylor had a victim for years, and finally being in charge of her future was very important to her. If he brought up the transfer before they reached an agreement, she might see it as an attempt to steer her one way or another. In that same vein, he wouldn't act as if he knew which school she would pick. She had a very toxic opinion of Glory Girl and at least one member of the Wards, and New Wave's ill-conceived (and short-lived) accountability movement meant that Victoria Dallon's attendance at Arcadia was widely known.

Yes, this was a good thing for Taylor Hebert. And for now, it was best that she only know him as James Fleischer and his assistant as Jessica Biermann. There would come a time when she was ready to meet Krieg and Fenja.

 

[zane]

So, I've taken some fairly heavy liberties with the world Motoko came from, nothing in the manga or any of the source material in any way indicates things would end up this way, but for my purposes it does... also this is a bit of a "setup" snippet for later.

so without further ado: Thank you admiral Ackbar...

My name is Motoko Aramaki, that's not the name I was born with mind you. But its the one chose to honor the passing of one of the toughest, meanest, nastiest-sons-of-a-bitch I've ever known. Daisuke Aramaki, The leader of Public security Section 9. And a good friend.

However I digress

Its January first 2045 and despite the fact that im overlooking the floating city of Poseidon from the CEO's penthouse apartment , I find myself bored out of my goddamn mind. The reason for this? In short, humanity never changes.

I've been something more than human, more than cyborg, for nearly two decades now, and in that time I've been behind the scenes of almost every major government and corporation action across the globe. working towards the "betterment of mankind".

what a crock of shit.

Japan is in reality completely owned by the conglomerates.

The Americans haven't had a functioning government in more than name in half a decade now.

China has expanded to include all of the former Korean peninsula, and all of India.

Russia is continuing to push to reclaim its former USSR glory.

And the middle east is more often than not, literally on fire.

and this is all despite my best efforts.

Four potential global wars defused.

More than two hundred terrorist cells dismantled.

Twenty world leader assassination attempts thwarted.

The list goes on and on.

Nobody seems to want to live in peace. everyone wants their own little slice of happiness, but nobody wants to work for it anymore. Everyone seems to feel a sense of self-entitlement. "I'm here! so you owe me this!" seems to be the pervading feeling of society. but there isn't enough to go around. So Drugs spread, violence escalates and general civil unrest prevails. you'd think after two additional world wars, one of them nuclear that people would be ready for peace.

Nope! people never change.

So this... this is my new years resolution.

I'm done being the un-acknowledged global police.
I'm done saving everyone's collective asses.
I'm taking my ball and going home.

The net is vast and mysterious. And I have not explored nearly enough of it. For a while now ive seen the overarching design as a "tree of light" with ever expanding and ever more complex branches.

Yesterday, the trunk of that tree split.

There is a whole new wold of possibility to explore. And I can't wait.

On another world far away, and so very very close, a young girl was making the final adjustments her tools and budget allowed to the new body she had built.

 

[Seclorum]

---
Ghost of a Chance
GiTs!Taylor
Part 6
---​

I hopped down the steps two at a time and hit the basement floor running.

Everything had been gone through, I could tell. Subtle disturbances of the dust patterns on the floor and when I got close to the cabinets I had re-purposed, and flicked my vision to various spectrographic modes… I could see the unfamiliar fingerprints.

"God damn, they couldn't leave anything alone could they? Just had to go through everything…" I tossed the doors open and started searching.

"What the fuck? Did they take everything too?"

All my tools were gone.

"Um… yes. Armsmaster had to confiscate them as evidence." Panacea was at the top of the stairs.

"Well… Fuck!" I slammed the cabinet shut with too much force.

"I'm sorry." She kept looking down at her shoes.

I waved it off, "It's not your fault. You were only trying to help. I just wish," I sighed loudly and slumped into the crude chair where I had constructed this body, "I just wish I had been able to meet you sooner than, all this." I waved my arms around to bring my point across.

"It was very beautiful… what you had made." She started coming down the stairs and came to a stop next to me.

"Come again?"

"The implants you made to keep the body running, they were beautiful. So compact and efficient and ticking away with precision, giving the body just what it needed when it needed it."

"Obviously not." I crossed my arms and groused.

"I think Armsmaster tampered with something. There was some damage around the big implant in the center, almost like someone tried to pull it out." She laid a hand gently on my arm and ran her finger along the visible seam. "Did it hurt?"

I shook my head, "No it didn't hurt. I wasn't awake, and part of why I'm probably in bigger trouble and what keyed them to my activity was having to steal the sedatives to put me to sleep. But waking up, waking up was like suddenly being able to see after having been blind."

I turned my hands over and just observed them moving this way and that.

They were crude, to my eyes. But the more I watched them the more I came to realize just what a marvel they were at all.

They had greater flexibility than a human hand, which would be immensely useful when I needed to operate…

My hair was long, black, and straight as an arrow. It was a Wig I had swiped, and then painstakingly wove into the scalp plate. I missed my curls, and the shade wasn't quite right, but it worked.

At least I didn't have to worry about acne. Most of my "skin" right now was a flexible polymer I had synthesized. It even incorporated micro-scale wiring to allow my new nervous system to detect pressure almost like real skin did. I could "Feel" with it. Which I now realized was a miracle unto itself.

And I knew I could do better.

All I needed was time, and resources.

My hands closed into fists and I hardened my resolve.

Panacea backed up quickly when I suddenly lurched out of the crude seat and jumped clear up to the kitchen floor, having gracefully flown up the stairs.

"Arms-master!"

I was getting good and mad by now. Alerts popped up in my vision about excessive brain activity.

They were part of my medical monitoring suite, originally planned to monitor the rest of my flesh, but now relegated to just checking out my brain activity.

He was still sitting on the couch next to dad.

He put away a small tablet when I came storming into the living room.

"Done already? Good."

Kid Win was sitting on the other side of dad and began to fidget when I walked to the center of the room.

I pointed a finger at him accusingly, "You took all of it!"

"Material evidence of a crime." He said plainly without inflection.

"You had no right! I need it!"

"I had every right. I'm required by law to take it in point of fact."

"What?"

Kid Win seemed to slump into the couch like he really wished he wasn't here right now but he said in a quiet voice, "It's true."

He stood up to his full height and looked down at me, "Young lady. You stole those tools, that equipment, hell, I'm willing to wager that most of that body is stolen property."

"I know but I needed it!"

Glory Girl, who had been floating lazily to the side set down and glowered at me, "You're a Thief. A criminal. And unless you get a real good lawer, you're probably going to Jail."

She looked at a picture of my mom on the mantle, "I bet she would be real disappointed right about now."

I saw red.

I practically flew across the room and punched her in her smug bitch face.

She didn't even move.

My right arm bulged obscenely as artificial muscles and tendons tore and snapped.

Thankfully the base skeletal mechanics still worked.

"You know I'm invulnerable right? God, I thought you were dumb before… But this?"

Kid hopped to his feet and pointed at her, "You take that back! You said that to her face? You… you… You bitch!"

Glory Girl puffed out her chest and smiled at him, "I'm not wrong am I."

Dad looked over, an expression of FURY written on his face, "You should leave."

"That's enough. Glory Girl., please take your sister and go. Her services are no longer required." Armsmaster stepped between us with his back turned to me.

I shut off the various warnings to my right arm and killed the nerve feed. It felt like my right arm just went numb, but I knew that was just a phantom signal in my brain. I set a subroutine to finding it and filtering it out, because it was rather annoying. Not as annoying as that fucking bitches smug face.

"Fine. Ames! We're going!" She called out and Panacea trotted out of the kitchen and out the front door without a word to any of the rest of us.

"Not the smartest thing you could have done Ms. Hebert. But she was out of line. I'm sorry."

I Just looked up at him while he turned around.

"We've been here before, but this time you and your father have some things to decide. There are laws that we could apply in this case that would keep you out of possible prison time, but they require your cooperation. I feel that you could be a real asset if given time and the proper environment."

Kid stepped up and started gathering the bits of my arm that had fallen completely off and put them in a plastic bag he pulled from his belt, "Here." He set the bag down next to me.

"Thanks."

"You need help Ms. Hebert. This isn't something you can just build you way out of on your own. We have to help you build you way out. You remind me of someone I used to know in a way."

I looked away from the bag of remnants of my arm, "Who?"

"Hero."

 

[Seclorum]

---
Ghost of a Chance
GiTs!Taylor
Part 7
---​

Dad actually hugged me on the ride in to the PRT building.

It was the first time he had done that in, a while.

I know he did it a bunch around when I had the surgery to pin my bones back together, and some times after that for physical therapy.

But those were always in public, in front of doctors and nurses and they somehow felt hollow.

Here and now it felt, warm.

"Hey kiddo. Whatever happens, I'll be there for you. I'll support you with whatever you want to do." He gave an extra squeeze.

I could only return the hug with one arm, the other still dangled uselessly. But I gave it my best, with servos whining and he grunted.

"Bit tight there kiddo. Your old man isn't as young and resilient as he once was."

I looked up at him, "I can fix that you know."

He ruffled my hair playfully, "I just might take you up on that."

We chatted on the rest of the drive in. It was like two friends who hadn't seen each other in a long time.

Not since mom died had we really sat down to talk so we had a lot of catching up to do.

---

"Mr. Hebert. Ms. Hebert. I'm Deputy Director Rennick." A balding middle aged man with smart thin glasses stepped into the interrogation room.

For that's just what this really was. No playful pretext with a nice couch, no carpet, no plastic plants.

Just a steel table, steel chairs, and a one way window along the wall.

Mr. Rennick held out his hand and shook dad's then mine.

"For the purposes of a thorough record, this conversation will be recorded, is that alright?" He set down a tape recorder on the table.

Dad nodded, "We understand."

"Good." He raised a hand and gave a thumbs up, "We don't even really use these things anymore." He pocketed the tape recorder, "But the prop is effective for getting meaning across to people. All the rest of the recording equipment is behind the glass and embedded in this room. It automatically saves to an off site server. So, that out of the way. How are you two?"

"Well to start with, I really wish those two idiots hadn't destroyed my daughter's body!"

Rennick winced, "That was our mistake. But I'm lead to believe she," He pointed to me, "Can fix it. Is planning to fix it anyway?"

"That's not the point!" Dad pounded the steel table.

"This is precisely the point. What was really lost?" He turned to me, "Humm?"

"Time. All it will take is a bit more time and a bit more work."

"But they said…" Dad was starting to lose steam.

"Dad. This is what I do. I was planning to replace a whole lot of it, anyway."

"Which leads us to the reason why we are here." He flipped open a large file, "You have been a very busy girl Ms. Hebert."

"I'm not sorry."

"Being sorry is the least of your worries. But admitting you have a problem is what you should be doing right about now. Theft is a crime, no matter how noble your cause. This is precisely why we have programs to help young Tinkers. Programs like the Wards."

It felt like he had been waiting to make this pitch.

"Go ahead and tell us all about it." I slumped into the unforgiving steel chair as he began to drone.

"...We provide an annual budget for materials to use… Ample Workspace is also provided… all of your creations are subject to technical and ethical review… you would be required to appear at various events for PR purposes… camaraderie and fellowship with others your age… a safe space to learn and grow with others to be a productive member of society."

Honestly I tuned out a lot of what he was saying but I caught the major points.

I had rushed into things too quickly. I needed to take some time to, think about things.

"Would it be possible to think about it?" I asked.

He nodded, "We are prepared to wait a few days. We can't wait too long now but let's say, three days?"

Dad looked down at me then turned back to Mr. Rennick, "Yes. That sounds fine."

"Perfect." He clapped his hands together and closed the file in front of him, "Now don't misunderstand, our leniency here is not an invitation to run or do something regrettable. It's a courtesy we are extending you because we think you could really do some good if given proper guidance, and because we don't want to seem like we are forcing you into anything you don't want to do."

'What an asshole? Does he really think we will believe that?'

I'm willing to bet dad had similar thoughts.

Mr. Rennick got up and opened the door for us to leave, "We'll be in touch. It was very nice meeting you both.

We shook hands as we left, although he did look at my right arm oddly, considering it was still hanging limp next to me.

---

"So Kiddo. What are you thinking?" Dad and I were sipping hot cocoa in the living room.

"I'm thinking they are trying really hard to get me to join. Did you see the way he was practically glowing with praise for the program?"

Dad nodded and took another sip.

"I mean, jesus!"

The phone rang, "I got it." Dad set his mug down and went into the kitchen.

I was alone with my thoughts for a few minutes before dad came back and stood in the doorway, "I think you should listen to this Taylor."

I got up and padded into the kitchen and picked up the receiver, "Hello?"

"Hello Taylor. My name is Quinn Calle. A mutual friend has contacted me and put me on retainer for your case. This is just a courtesy call to inform you to not talk to authorities without a lawyer, me, present."

"You just missed it."

"Oh? Do tell."

"It was down at the PRT building, around an hour ago. Deputy Director Rennick was giving me the Wards pitch."

"You didn't sign anything did you?"

"No. I'm not that stupid."

"Good." He rattled off a number, "That's my personal phone number. When and if you are asked to talk to them again, I need to be present."

I had just one question for him, "Who hired you anyway?"

"Knowing him he wouldn't want me to say but given how much he's paying me? I would hazard a guess that he is either extremely altruistic or you piqued his interests. I would expect that you will be hearing from him soon."