Mind you, mockery aside, people like Aaron are much more dangerous than the idiots he used to gain her attention. He's sneaky, invasive, and uses slippery slopes on his victims until you're actively debating 'kill and oppress miniorites' with anything other than 'you're a shitbag disguised as a human.'
I doubt it'll work on the warship in the long run, but he's still incredibly dangerous.
Mind you, mockery aside, people like Aaron are much more dangerous than the idiots he used to gain her attention. He's sneaky, invasive, and uses slippery slopes on his victims until you're actively debating 'kill and oppress miniorites' with anything other than 'you're a shitbag disguised as a human.'
I doubt it'll work on the warship in the long run, but he's still incredibly dangerous.
Only to idiots. Yes, honeypots are a tried and true method, but it only really works against people who are not secure in their beliefs. There is no situation where someone with a solid morality would put up with that sort of thing, the ones who fall for it are the weak willed, emotionally vulnerable or were closet racists/supremacists to begin with, who are willing to excuse that ideology to avoid being alone.
Only to idiots. Yes, honeypots are a tried and true method, but it only really works against people who are not secure in their beliefs. There is no situation where someone with a solid morality would put up with that sort of thing, the ones who fall for it are the weak willed, emotionally vulnerable or were closet racists/supremacists to begin with, who are willing to excuse that ideology to avoid being alone.
Uh... yeah? Sure. I mean, I think it would be harder to find a opposing example. The validity of honeypotting tactics (in the context of recruitment) depends entirely on the target being so needy or desperate that they don't have any lines in the sand. Imagine you meet a nice boy or girl to your preference; they are attractive, share your interests, you go on a couple dates, everything is great.... and then you find out they are extremely racist. Not even regular DEYTOOKERJERBS racist, but like full on 'kill the minorities' racist.
Is that a deal breaker for you? It is for most people. I can say with complete certainty i would cut them off like a diseased limb. It might hurt, but life goes on, there are other fish in the sea and if that is how they think then there was no hope of a future anyway.
What your is imagining in this situation is the opposite. That you could find out your paramour was racist and.... just try to be okay with that. And then maybe they just really want you to come to a KKK rally next week. Its totally just a community thing, not about race. Now lets get you measured for a pointy white hat.... and you being okay with that. And you go to a bunch of meetings and everyone is nice and things seem normal, but of course you want to fit in with your new group of friends, and after hearing their racism over and over you start parroting it back... and then one day you find yourself thinking that way.
Does it work? Yes. But its not a tactic that would work for a normal person. There is a reason that they talk about 'vulnerable', 'susceptible' individuals in this context... because a average person wouldn't be so desperate and needy for human affection and contact that they would associate with that sort of person, or become a member of that group of people. Nazi-Taylor stories are, generally, predicated on the fact that shes alone, hurting and emotionally vulnerable. In may ways shes the perfect target for that sort of recruitment practice... the sort of person who would cling so strongly to the first affectionate human contact shed experienced in over a year that shed be willing to overlook things in the name of maintaining that contact. This in turn leans to the slippery slope.
Haida on the other hand has exactly none of the personality features that make her a workable target for that sort of thing. Shes strong, confident, competent and comfortable in her life and her own skin. She has a group of peers to support her as well as mentors who she respects and will work to protect and guide her. Shes nothing like Taylor was at this point in time, nor shes not some mewling invalid whod join the nazis for a pat on the head from a crush.
And thats before you get into the fact she is a modern Canadian(read: multicultural/pro-diversity) who is also a atlantic theater Canadian warship(fought Nazis in WW2). More, shes not just any ship, shes the Haida. The sole survivor out of 27 RNC Tribal class destroyers and credited with more surface tonnage kills than any other ship in the canadian navy. It was even the flagship for a while.
Now, back to you; As far as i can tell, your conflating the use of seduction for recruitment (what i am specifically talking about) with other similar subjects i think, like blackmail or stealing information. Using honeypots to create blackmail material works, but only if you can actually blackmail the target with the resulting images (a affair, homosexual activity back during the cold war era, etc). If he manages to fuck haida, its not going to create any useful blackmail material, just make the E88 look even more reprehensible... and since such photos would have a obvious source (ie, him) he has little chance of avoiding Haida giving new meaning to the phrase 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned', nor does the E88 in general. As far as information goes; in the age of M/S protocols the odds of a Ward having anything really important is basically nil and the odds of her handing out any key information she does have (like her password) is also basically nil. About the only information i could possibly see him getting out of this exchange is her patrol schedule... but there are easier ways to do that which dont involve pissing off a blasterbrute who could level a city block.. like watching PRT HQ with a pair of binoculars.
Uh... yeah? Sure. I mean, I think it would be harder to find a opposing example. The validity of honeypotting tactics (in the context of recruitment) depends entirely on the target being so needy or desperate that they don't have any lines in the sand. Imagine you meet a nice boy or girl to your preference; they are attractive, share your interests, you go on a couple dates, everything is great.... and then you find out they are extremely racist. Not even regular DEYTOOKERJERBS racist, but like full on 'kill the minorities' racist.
Is that a deal breaker for you? It is for most people. I can say with complete certainty i would cut them off like a diseased limb. It might hurt, but life goes on, there are other fish in the sea and if that is how they think then there was no hope of a future anyway.
Now imagine that boy doesn't just suddenly dump his racism on you but eases you in. Then it becomes much easier.
In your scenario you fail to remember that the tactic is usually a two-step process. If there's no pre-existent need then the perception of such a need will be created first, before the solution is offered.
Now imagine that boy doesn't just suddenly dump his racism on you but eases you in. Then it becomes much easier.
In your scenario you fail to remember that the tactic is usually a two-step process. If there's no pre-existent need then the perception of such a need will be created first, before the solution is offered.
Honestly not much difference, whether he reveals that hes a superracist all at one or reveals hes racist a little at a time, hes still being a racist . At some point hes going to have to let it slip that hes not exactly a fan of colour. Thats the point where normal people leave.
And its Brockton Bay... youd have to be extra stupid to date a hansom white racist football player. You literally cannot make the 'this person is E88' flags any more obvious.
In addition, the E88 lacks the ability to cut Haida's social safetynet.
Uh... yeah? Sure. I mean, I think it would be harder to find a opposing example. The validity of honeypotting tactics (in the context of recruitment) depends entirely on the target being so needy or desperate that they don't have any lines in the sand.
I don't think you're right, but if you are restricting your objection to a honypot recruitment (which there's no evidence they're going for) as opposed to slow seduction of one form or another, or espionage then you may be right.
I misread your post as describing anyone who falls for the Nazi rethoric/ideology as someone who is "weak willed, emotionally vulnerable or were closet racists/supremacists to begin with"
Dani is using the Japaneses invasion of China as the start of WWII instead of the 1st September, 1939 invasion of Poland?
...
With regard to Haida's torpedo tubes, you might want to check out the Royal Navy's Mark X series depth charges which were launched from 21 inch torpedo tubes.
A) I personally consider the Second Sino-Japanese War to be part of the Second World War. The US and Russia were providing aid to the Chinese; and would later get absorbed into 'Planetary Clusterfuck Part Deux: This Time it's Nuclear'. Dating from the Poland invasion is eurocentric (in my opinion) and it's dismissive of the monsterous casualties suffered (upwards of seventeen million Chinese).
B) A three thousand pound bomb with a two thousand pound bursting charge? Oh my. It's not a first generation SubRoc; but it'll do. It won't go very far; but Haida's willing to ConFoam her own position for a win.
"Looks like the wetback's finally clued in, I'm going to be on the starting lineup. Doesn't hurt that the nigger he was gonna cut me for got his leg broken in a cape fight." Aaron smiled.
Normally I'd toss some sort of relevant quote or song lyric in here just to set the tone for the half-assed poorly written drek of a chapter to come. But the discussion re: Aaron has me wanting to get something off my chest.
Dani is broken. Like every other natural trigger, Dani has suffered intense, prolonged psychological stress; in her specific case both social and physical; culminating in an attempted murder. To the point where she so desperately needed to be someone, anyone, anything but who she was. The space-whale brain parasite merging her with a two million kilogram war machine still hasn't made her feel entirely safe in her own skin. She has issues trusting people; even her teammates. Director Piggot and AD Rennick know some of what was involved with her trigger and the aftermath because it's in her file; but the only person with the full details is Dragon.
Remember that, outside of Cauldron; the best guess that anyone has about trigger events and powers is that something happened to a person that screwed them up so hard they broke the laws of physics.
Along comes Aaron. He's slightly older, good looking, athletic. He's on the football team; and while Dani may not know a lot about football; she recognizes that this is a socially advantageous trait to posses. More importantly; Aaron is willing to take Dani at face value. He's treating her as a normal girl; asking her out on a date, and so on. First you build trust and familiarity, then you ask for one little favor; no big deal really...
Anyways, have some music for now; at least until Dani starts singing again.
Warehouse District
31Oct10, 2017 Lima
"I can't believe I have to miss out on my first Halloween party as a Ward to go on patrol. I had plans! I overheard Aaron talking with one of his friends about a keg. But noooo, all the Protectorate heros are 'ensuring the safety of the residential districts' and we 'wouldn't be a visible deterrent because we could be mistaken for a civilian child in costume'." I managed a pretty fair impression of AD Rennick, I think.
Clockblocker was walking beside me and managed to convey a raised eyebrow despite his full-face mask. "Seriously? First, you're underage. Second, I've seen you eat; I doubt a keg would slow you down."
Vista, riding on my shoulder to take a break from walking, laughed. "He's got a point there."
"And what you do for a costume? Piggy'd throw a fit if video of you playing beer-pong in your 'work clothes' surfaced on PHO." Clock continued. "It'd definitely hurt your merch sales."
I frowned and nodded. Even with the PRT picking up my room and board, I leaned more heavily on the 'allowance' we earned than any of my fellow Wards who actually had families. "I actually had a thought on that; wanted to see what you guys think before I raised it with my branding agent. My figures don't move very well; but what about doing a 1:100 scale remote control toy of my ship form?"
"Rights might get complicated. Wasn't HMCS Haida a park before you..." Vista waved a hand at me vaguely.
"Merged?" I shrugged. "Yeah, well, a national historic site, anyways. They moved me to Esquimalt after Newfoundland sent the tidal wave up the St. Lawrence and trashed the Hamilton waterfront. For that matter, I'm still listed on the naval register. Flagship of the whole Canadian Navy."
"It's still weird to hear you talk about, ya know, being an inanimate object like that." Clockblocker made a gesture I couldn't translate in my direction.
"Clock, if you think ships are inanimate; you need to spend more time sailing." I smiled.
Vista and Clockblocker traded a look, then the diminutive spacewarper hopped down from my shoulders. "Ok. We're getting close to where Uber was sighted last night, and I wouldn't put it past them to be planning something special for tonight."
"So naturally," Clock quipped, "We're walking straight into whatever it turns out to be."
"Stupid orders are still orders, Clock." I shook my head. "Console, Haida." After a moment I frowned. Response should have been quicker. "Console, Haida; how read, over?" Another pause while Vista and Clockblocker looked around warily. "Any station this net, Haida, Radio check, over."
"Try a radar sweep." Vista ordered; and I nodded. One quick pulse later, I frowned.
"We're in a box. Nearest wall is about five hundred feet back behind us. Call it half mile on a side. It's radio-opaque."
Vista nodded. "We're pulling back. Clock, point, Haida, tail. Rig up."
I frowned as I called up my rigging. It was Clockblocker that voiced my objection, however. "Vista, it's Uber and Leet."
"Never underestimate a Tinker. Especially one that's already got us trapped, on a prepared battlefield of their choosing."
"You're creepy when you talk like that, you know?" Clock waved at the tiny patrol leader. "If you did that more in public, PHO wouldn't have voted you 'Cutest Ward' two years in a row."
"She's been doing this longer than both of us combined, Clock; that's why I've been pushing to have seniority based on experience, not calendar."
With Vista scrunching space, returning to the boundary took seconds. It looked like a perfectly normal intersection; for Brockton's mostly-abandoned warehouse district. Potholed, trash-strewn, and the occasional abandoned car from the dock riots years ago. As we approached, I could make out a slight shimmer in the air, like heat rising off a car in summer.
"Hold here." Vista scowled as we crouched behind a rusted Volkswagen. "I can't 'reach' past that line with my power."
"It's radio-opaque in every frequency I can receive or transmit. I'd need higher ground to reach the Rig with a signal lamp; it obviously lets light through." I shrugged.
For his part, Clockblocker pulled the side mirror off the car and lobbed it over the car, it bounced off the shimmer in the air; drawing a grunt. "It's bad level design."
"What?"
"It's bad level design having to rely on invisible walls like this. Sloppy and lazy." Clock shrugged.
"Sloppy and lazy.... Clock, you're a genius. Haida, you've got maps? Stupid question. Where's the nearest storm drain access?"
"Two seven zero at one hundred yards. Manhole cover." I gestured up the street.
"Same order, move out. Clock, try to figure out what game they're ripping off."
We moved out. A football field doesn't seem that far to walk until you're surrounded by abandoned buildings at night, expecting attack from any direction. Clockblocker started looking... twitchy. I tapped Vista on the shoulder, held up two hands, one with a finger pointing down between two raised fingers from the other; then rotated the lower hand. Vista nodded, tapped Clock on the shoulder; and the two of us swapped out.
Nearing the end of the block I held up a fist for a halt. Even on land, my hearing was better than a normal persons, and I could make out a soft sobbing ahead. A disheveled-looking young girl sitting with her back to us in tattered clothes, hugging her knees to her chest and crying.
^v^V^v^ A Control Center ^v^V^v^
"Shut it down dude, shut it down fast!" The minor villain known as Uber stared with growing horror at the screen as Vista, not the time-stopping striker or humanoid tank made the approach to the flash-cloned cyborg playing the part of a Left 4 Dead witch.
"I can't man, the Director's not responding and the fail-safe... isn't." His partner Leet desperately tried to shut down the runaway recreation. "The feed's locked in to the Director too. Shit."
The two stared at the screen as their creation screamed and slashed at the youngest Wards' chest with ts claws; cutting deep. Vista's cry of pain was met with a snarl of rage; Haida leaping to body-check the witch into the ruins of a bus shelter hard enough to cause the organic construct to fold around a post. Its head split open like a water melon shot from an air cannon, exposing the Tinkertech it had in lieu of an actual brain.
"Dude." Leet stared at the screen, Tinker mind automatically calculating force vectors imparted to his construct in order to inflict that sort of damage. "She went straight to lethal force."
"No shit sherlock; we just hurt Vista. Last chance, bro; can we shut this down?"
"We're totally locked out."
"Then it's time to initiate Plan Robin."
"Run away, run away!" Leet nodded.
"I hear California is nice this time of year."
^v^V^v^ Warehouse District ^v^V^v^
"Stay with me Vista. You're tougher than this." I was already ripping a soaker from a trauma kit as I knelt down beside her. "Clock, pressure here. Good. This is nothing Vista, just a scratch." It was anything but. The lateral rake had gotten between ribs; the sucking sound and red froth on Vista's lips told me everything I needed to know. It wasn't good. "All right boss, I need you to focus for a minute. I need you to warp things just one more time for me; get yourself and Clock aboard me. Can you do that for me?" I got a wet, bloody cough and a thumbs up in response.
"Clock- CLOCK!" I smacked him upside the helmet to get his attention. "Focus. When she does her thing I need you to carry her onto me. Try to get her to sickbay. Then freeze her and keep her frozen until I get Pancea. Do you understand?"
"I... yes."
"We'll have her to Pancea in a few seconds from her perspective. She'll be fine. You'll be fine in just a minute, Vista. But now you've gotta make the universe your bitch one more time. Ready? Clock? Ok, on three. One. Two. Three."
With the two of them safely aboard and below, I let my battlestations alarm blare over my external speakers, then fired a star shell to illuminate the area. True to the type Clock had identified, too late, more zombies started scrambling towards the light and noise. I cut the alarm. The first one, the one that nearly killed my friend, had some sort of computer in its skull. I might have said that I was hoping they were all synthetic. Honestly, at that point, I didn't care. I potted a couple zombies with my oerlikons, firing high-explosive incendiary. The effects of what had once been an antitank caliber on a human body were predictably splattery.
"You guys wanted a little Halloween fun? Well as usual, Leet, you've fucked up! You guys got the genre wrong you idiots. When you hurt MY friend, this stopped being survival-horror." A short burst into a cluster, sending limbs and bits of limbs spinning off into the shadows. A famous guitar riff blared from my speakers. "Uber? Leet? May God have mercy on your souls; for I have none. Welcome... to BULLET HELL."
Below, Clock had pulled his helmet off and looked up at the overhead. "Who wrote you a themesong?"
"Kids these days, no appreciation for the classics." My decks shook.
"What was that?" Clock looked... worried.
"Main battery firing modified M1028. Don't worry, just keep an eye on Vista."
^v^V^v^ PRT HQ ^v^V^v^
With Armsmaster and Kid Win already dispatched to the scene to attempt to free the Wards from the forcefield, there was nothing the rest of the Protectorate could do but watch the disaster unfold. Piggot and Miss Militia were watching the villian duo's stream on the big screen. Velocity looked pale. Assault was throwing up in a trashcan and Battery had left the room.
"What the hell was that?" Haida had waded through the horde of zombies trying, unsuccessfully, to drag her down, until she reached an intersection. Her rifles spoke once, and down each street a fan of zombies a block deep were reduced to so much pasta sauce. Piggot glanced over at Hanna.
"M1028. Canister round. Each casing has just under twelve hundred tungsten ball bearings. Think the shotgun shell from hell. Each of the pellets is about the size of your thumb; moving at... well, fast. Looks like she aimed low to maximize grazers skipping off the pavement."
"Please don't." Assault threw up again; while on the big screen the Ward slogged forward through ankle-deep organic slurry; her autocannons blazing almost continually while her eyes tracked for something worthy of her main guns' attention.
"She's not conserving ammo, she's just full rock-and-roll." Velocity frowned.
"She's angry, and she's making a point." Piggot gestured to the teen who was, ultimately, her responsibility. "Those two idiots hurt Vista. Maybe not intentionally. After all, it's Leet. But you hurt one of MY Wards, and you deserve what you get." Everyone winced as a giant zombie threw a car at the Ward, who pushed it off her and replied with a high explosive shell; then continued on.
"And it looks like she's solved her angularity problems." Hanna nodded as the juggernaut on screen turned a corner, finally able to see the large warehouse in the middle of the walled-off zone. All eight guns tracked on the same point, fired, and the feed went dead.
^v^V^v^ Warehouse District ^v^V^v^
Armsmaster frowned under his helmet as Leet's forcefield defied his ability to disrupt it. While it blocked radio communications with the interior, it apparently did nothing to block sound. Heavy metal blared at apocalyptic levels warred with a continuous torrent of autocannon fire. Kid Win looked up at his mentor for reassurance when a flash of light and a massive crash resounded. An instant later the forcefield rattled; rippling like a pond in the rain as a spray of metal ball-bearings hit the interior face and dropped to the pavement. Bloody fragments that might once have been body parts, blown clear of the epicenter, followed in slower ballistic trajectories.
"Kid Win; when we get this forcefield down, I do not want you entering the perimeter."
Chris swallowed and nodded; making a mental note that people on the news describing a gang fight as 'a war zone' needed to find a new description. "I think the generator's somewhere inside the field; Haida's going to have to find it and shut it down herself. Fuck, we can't even tell her."
Another wave of thunder. The field dropped. Another, and another. A warship in a murderous rage going full continuous rate with her main guns. The PRT main frequency crackled. "Haida, Milita. Check fire, check fire."
Armsmaster made one last 'stay here' gesture at his protege and jumped on his bike.
"Check fire Aye!" The constant roar of lesser gunfire died instantly. "Haida declaring medical emergency. I need evac."
"Haida, Armsmaster; I'm coming in from the west, talk to me."
"Armsmaster? Good. I need you to give me a ride to the waterfront ASAP. Someone get Pancea to meet us there."
Collin resisted the urge to puke as he carefully guided his customized bike through the abattoir the new Ward had made of the streets. He'd seen violence before, been at Endbringer battles. But this passed 'gutters running with blood'. It was a blizzard of gore, and only the gyro stabilizers kept his bike from skidding out in the red slush. He kept his eyes on the navigation prompts until he found the Ward still standing at the edge of a collapsed... no, bombed out warehouse still burning with the white phosphorous of star shells doing double duty as incendiaries. If it weren't for silhouette matching, he'd never have been able to tell under the blood that it was her.
^v^V^v^ Epicenter ^v^V^v^
Armsmaster barely halted when I jumped on the back of his bike and wrapped my arms around his waist, shaking a foot to kick off a ribcage that my boot had gotten stuck in. The bike was already moving. "Get me to the water. I took a gamble that Clock's freeze would be relative to my pocket of warped space; but without Vista, we can't get Pancea into the pocket to treat her."
"Or get Clockblocker out." The Protectorate leader nodded.
"Or that." I pulled a fragment of jawbone out of the neck of my collar and flicked it away. "Sorry about the mess. So, I'm going to have to fully open the pocket that I keep myself in, and that means I need a wharf."
"Glory Girl and Pancea are already en route to a rendezvous."
"Great." I yawned. "I'm gonna need a bath and something to eat before I fall asleep. But first, save Vista."
This started as one of the original snippets I'd always had planned; the fact that I got it finished at the end of October is just a bonus. Then I started writing and it just got huge. It probably needs an editing pass for brevity. And it does sort of end abruptly; but I want to save the aftermath, and there will be fallout, for another chapter.
Edit: Formatting bit my ass on this one. Let's try this again.
I wonder how this will factor into the recruitment attempts from the E88, it's one thing to know someone is a strong cape it's another thing entirely to see them reduce a multi-block radius chock full of zombies into an organic slurry. I imagine they'll make sure to take things extra slow, since the consequences for messing it up have made themselves abundantly clear, what with her having enough firepower to decimate literally their entire roster.
She's also in a position where she'll get into the least fights possible, with being in the wards. She's in the best possible position for them at the moment, least capable of putting away their capes and also pointed at their enemies. They're also not stupid, considering they've been a major contender in the bay for something like the past 20-30 years.
There's also of course the fallout for Uber & Leet in a more immediate sense, which should be interesting to see.
Wow! That was some beautiful zombie carnage. Its going to be some interesting fallout to see when people catch on that she is a walking gun battery, because there is always someone who yells about stupid things no matter how stupid that makes them sound, but since it was some creepy tinker tech organic zombies those people can go stuff it. Seriously though it was beautifully written without going over the top about it, and still being some over the top carnage!
And Haida's just a destroyer. An Iowa-class carries almost twice as many guns, and of a larger caliber, per side; as their secondary battery. If someone had pissed off The Big Stick that much, they'd be rerouting the interstate around the Brockton Memorial Crater.
I'm pretty sure the Coast Guard or Navy is going to have something to say when Haida goes full size in the Bay.
And Haida's just a destroyer. An Iowa-class carries almost twice as many guns, and of a larger caliber, per side; as their secondary battery. If someone had pissed off The Big Stick that much, they'd be rerouting the interstate around the Brockton Memorial Crater.
Fixed, and some spacing missing in the next exchange that I tripped across while looking for the line to be fixed. Thanks.
Then imagine if she was a Montana-class battleship (follow up class to the Iowas, better armour, bigger, with 3 more 16 inchers on top of even more secondaries and tertiaries) or a Super Yamato? Those ships could devastate the entire STATE of New Hampshire, and then move onto Massachusetts, New York, and New Jersey if she felt like it. Or level Rhode Island even faster than Leviathan sank Newfoundland.
I wonder how this will factor into the recruitment attempts from the E88, it's one thing to know someone is a strong cape it's another thing entirely to see them reduce a multi-block radius chock full of zombies into an organic slurry. I imagine they'll make sure to take things extra slow, since the consequences for messing it up have made themselves abundantly clear, what with her having enough firepower to decimate literally their entire roster.
Haida is just a puny little tin can. An actual battleship fires a broadside of 8-12 main guns, for which every shell has a lethal blast radius of several hundred meters.
Naval rifles make normal artillery look like popcorn.
As for the actual update, this pleases me greatly, both for the Halloween carnagecarnage, the fact that it lined up the dates, and most importantly: the use of Vista to shrink people to be fairies. Every shipgirl needs fairies, and having them be the Wards due to wacky power interactions is one of my favorite aspects of this fic.
. At some point hes going to have to let it slip that hes not exactly a fan of colour. Thats the point where normal people leave. 
