Heeey, everybody! Let's have some fun!
You only live but once, and when your dead, you're done!
So let the good times roooll~
"One of my favorites, though, is when Julian was about four years old. He comes in, crying about his banged-up knee. You would've thought that the world was ending the way he's carrying on."
Roberta was grinning from ear to ear as she told me a story from her son's childhood. A quick glance at Julian told me everything I needed to know about this one if the way his ears were turning red were any indication.
"Now, I'm the type of mom, there's nothing that a little lovin' from the oven can't help. So, I give him a fresh cookie, and tell him it'll make his knee feel better!"
I snickered into my hand. "Oh, no!"
"Ma, please…" Julian begged.
Roberta chuckled as she continued to work in the kitchen, moving back and forth between the cutting board and the stove. "Oh, yes! I give him the cookie and bless his little heart, he proceeds to rub it right on his knee."
"Ma,
why?"
"Ma, it's not doing anything!" she said, mimicking what was probably Julian when he was four.
Julian sighed and shook his head, holding his head in his hands in mock despair. "And just like that, my image of a cool big brother is over."
"I wouldn't say that," I told him. "You're still cool. It's just now I have blackmail material on you while we're at work."
"Gee, thanks," he rolled his eyes up at me.
Today was our day off. Well, more like it was Julian's day off. I was technically always on the clock, and most of my time was spent working back at base. It was a little refreshing, to be honest. I forgot how "homey" the Chase household could be. I also forgot how delicious Roberta's home-cooked meals smelled. I wasn't even in the kitchen physically and I could
feel how wonderful that stuff must be.
Heeey Mr. Landlord, lock up all the doors!
When the police comes around, tell 'em that the joint is closed!
And let the good times roooll~
"Let the good times roooll~" Julian sang. A nostalgic smile crossed his face. "This was one of Dad's favorite songs."
"Mine's more of a Rolling Stones kind of guy," I said.
Roberta entered the dining room, carrying three glasses and three plates of food. "That smells wonderful, Mrs. Chase," I told her honestly.
Julian's mom smiled. "It's a shame you can't join us in person, Taylor."
"Might be a good thing," he snickered. "If you got her hooked on your cooking, she wouldn't have been able to fit in the bodysuit."
"Hey!"
I would have smacked him if I could. To anyone else, the joke might have come off as insensitive, but it was coming from the guy who became my pillar of emotional support since my mom died. Has it really been that long since I first met him? It felt like we have known each other for years now.
Roberta briefly vanished from the dining room. "Dri, supper's ready!" she called. Judging by how loudly the music from upstairs was blairing, Driana probably could not hear her. Roberta sighed and spared me an apologetic look before she went storming up the stairs. "Dri, so help me…!"
Julian shook his head, grabbing his fork and knife. Just as he was about to dig in, his phone went off with a familiar tune. He frowned as he took it out from his pocket, looking ready to chuck it across the room before his features relaxed. "Whew, false alarm. It's Doc, says he wants us to come by when we have the time."
"Probably wants to see how you're doing," I said. "It hasn't been that long since you joined the Wards or the ESU."
"I think you mean
shanghaied into it," Julian snorted. "Not like I had much choice." He then smiled as he bit into the quiche. "Then again, I can't say it's all bad. The pay's decent, we get to be heroes for a while, and I get to hang out with my friends more often. 'course, the only downside is that we have to fight bad guys on a daily basis."
"Not all the time. The Empire doesn't exist much these days."
"True," Julian conceded before sighing wistfully. "Man, has it really been a year since the Empire got kicked out of ton? You know, I still really can't believe it. I mean, they were the biggest cape group in the city, you know?"
I nodded. "I know, I had to live with those guys for most of my life. And don't forget, they aren't
completely gone."
It would have been nice if we had wiped out the neo-Nazis for good, but that was wishful thinking at best. The Empire, for all its size and power, was just one of the many heads. The Gesellschaft, a sister organization of the Eighty-Eight, refused to lose their foothold in Brockton Bay. While Kaiser was squared away in the Mesa with over half of his capes, their remnants were scooped up by the Gesellschaft and reinforced.
Fenrir's Chosen, led by Hookwolf, while not as dangerous as Kaiser's Empire, were more careful and harder to track down. The silver lining here was that their smaller size meant they did not have much firepower, and they were outmatched by the Azn Bad Boys.
"Cape stuff aside, you hear the latest?" Julian leaned over the table. "We're supposed to be getting some new blood in the Wards."
I raised a brow. "New recruits?"
"Nah, just some transfers from Chicago. Heard it's part of some training program the Director got green-lit some time ago."
"So they won't be staying for long, then."
Julian shrugged. "Maybe, who knows? Could be a permanent thing, like with Armsmaster and Kid Win. They were supposed to help in Boston for, what, six weeks. It's been over a year since they left, and I haven't heard about them coming back yet."
"To be fair, no one was expecting the Union to attack Boston," I pointed out. Julian shrugged and conceded to my point.
Footsteps echoed loudly from the hallway adjacent to the dining room. Coming down the stairs was Roberta, followed by Driana, who looked like a grouchy Armsmaster.
"Who's side of the bed did you wake up on?" Julian asked with a wry grin.
Driana rolled her eyes at her brother as she took a seat at the table. "I was in the middle of a live stream when mom oh so rudely barged in." She shot her mother a dirty look. Roberta shot back a smirk before she began eating her quiche. Sighing in defeat, Driana slumped in her chair, grabbed her fork before finally noticing me, and jumped. "Holy s—when did you get here?!"
"She's been here since noon, which you would know if you left your room," Julian teased.
I snickered into my scarf. "This isn't the first time I snuck up on Dri without meaning to."
Driana huffed. "You are just too quiet, that's your problem. Seriously, Tay, you need to be more outgoing. Be a little more like me!"
"You mean become a NEET?"
"Hey, I'm not a shut-in. I go to school like everyone else, and I have friends." Dri pointed an accusing finger at Julian. "Which is more than I can say about Julian."
"I'll have you know I have friends too," Julian replied defensively. "I've been best buds with Taylor, haven't I?"
She rolled her eyes. "Dearest brother of mine, Tay is an exception. She is practically our sister in all but blood." Julian opened his mouth to retort, but Dri shushed him. "And before you bring up the others, they are not your friends, they are your work colleagues."
"That's not—"
"When have you guys hung out outside of work?"
Julian fell silent, brow knit in thought. When it became clear he was not going to win, he sighed and threw his hands up in the air. "Okay, fine, maybe you got a point." Driana smirked. That smirk quickly died when Julian continued with a devious smile of his own. "But at least I'm not getting
fat."
"Lies! I weighed myself the other day!"
And so it begins, the age-old sibling spat. It was a thing of beauty to witness up close. It almost made me wish I was not an only child, but I could settle for watching the real thing happen right in front of me. I heard Roberta sigh as she shook her head.
"Seriously, what am I going to do with these kids?"
I smiled and watched the chaos unfold. The Chase household felt more and more like a second home to me with every passing day.
After lunch was squared away and the siblings agreed to a cease-fire, Julian and I split to meet back at the base. Seeing as how I was already there, I went ahead and jumped into Doctor Weller's lab. As usual, the place was cluttered, metal containers and equipment I still had no idea what they were stacked and piled all across the room, wires scattered about the floor in a haphazard mess. I found Weller in front of his computer, and from the looks of it, I arrived at the tail-end of his conversation.
"I need you to keep an open mind here!" Whoever was on the screen didn't seem to have an open mind as the communication channel was terminated. Weller looked somewhat hopeful. "Can I take that as you'll think about it?"
"Am I interrupting something, Doc?"
Weller jumped a little, startled by my sudden appearance. I couldn't help but giggle. "Ah, Taylor! Good to see you again," he smiled as he turned around. "You arrived at a good time. I just got off the comms with our dear Chief-Director."
"Director Marin?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. "What were you two talking about?"
"Well, for starters, let me tell you the good news. Medical results just got back to me early this morning. We have a potential recruit for our team of misfits!" Seeing my shocked expression, Weller smiled and continued. "Her name is Yasamin Madrani. She's a bit like Robin; ex-military, has significant military experience, top of her class in infantry training, and flew as a combat pilot."
"That sounds incredible!" My excitement dulled when I realized there was something wrong. There had to be a reason why the Director ended the call if Weller was asking her to keep an open mind. "Wait… You said she's military?"
"Yes, I did."
"…who did she serve?"
Weller's smile dimmed. "Ah, there's the rub. Yasamin is an ideal recruit for the program, but there's a problem. For her to actually be
part of the program, I need her in my custody. So, I was hoping the Director would approve a transfer."
"A transfer from
where?"
"Oh, nowhere special, just the Mesa Detainment Center."
I stared at Weller for a full moment. I understood then why Director Marin ended the call. Weller's "potential recruit" was a criminal; a criminal currently being housed in the Mesa. There were one of two conclusions I could think of that would have her be placed in the Mesa. The first was that she was a cape, which was natural to think given how often the Protectorate got involved in parahuman conflicts. The second option, and the most likely, was…
"She's from the Union?" Weller winced. I balked. "Doc, no offense, but do you realize how crazy that sounds?"
"Now, before you go jumping to conclusions, Yasamin willing went into Polity custody," Weller hastily explained. "She's
ex-Union. She defected several weeks ago and came to the Polity looking for asylum. The only reason she wasn't given safe passage was because of travel restrictions and her service record. Being part of the enemy military tends to make you famous, especially if you're a fighter pilot."
I wanted to object, I really did. Granted, I would later learn that Yasamin was not as bad as her service career made her out to be, but at the time, I did not have the best opinion of the Union. Memories of what happened in Maine were still fresh in my mind. The smoke, people being dragged into Spider Mechs, the bodies lying dead in the street…
My fingers dug into my sleeves, making my avatar ripple. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I took a long, hard look at the doctor. "…are you sure Yasamin can be trusted?"
"She came to us looking for a second chance, Taylor," Weller said softly. "A new start in her life somewhere that was not the Union."
I still felt uncomfortable with the idea. Even so, I had to put personal feelings aside. Every person we had in the program meant a better chance at winning and protecting everyone. If our chances were going to improve by having an ex-Union in the program, then so be it.
Seeing my reluctant, non-verbal agreement, the doctor smiled. "Now, come on, don't be so glum. Who knows? Maybe Yasamin might be your new best friend."
"I highly doubt that, doc," I replied.
Weller shrugged. "If you say so. Oh, by the way, I'm sure Chase probably told you already, but we're getting some fresh blood in the Wards, straight from Chicago. Seems the Director's agreed to something of a training program."
I appreciated the change in topic. To be honest, I was a little interested in knowing who the new arrivals are. "Who are we getting?"
Weller gestured me over as he fiddled with his console, the holo-screen changing from a communications channel to a dossier. It showed two people, one a blonde wearing what looked like a karate uniform holding a trophy and a skittish-looking boy with curly brown hair with a hood pulled over his head.
"Katherine Oldershaw, alias Grace, fifteen years old," Weller pointed to the blonde girl. "She Triggered half a year ago in Youngstown, Ohio. Remarkably tight-lipped about what happened, which is understandable, but her powerset leads us to believe she might be part of a multi-trigger event. No signs of a kiss/kill dynamic, but there's still a possibility of her being part of a cluster. A Striker and a Brute; perfect front-line fighter. Enhanced strikes, temporarily invulnerability, enhanced physical capabilities and reflexes, and an excellent perception of time. She combines her powers with her skills in martial arts. Has the quite the potty mouth, too."
I rolled my eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, Weller, everyone and their mother in Brockton Bay has a tendency to say 'fuck' at the drop of a hat."
"As I'm painfully aware, yes," Weller sighed. "Moving on! Oswald Ulysses, alias Wanton, sixteen-years-old. He's a bit of a fresh one, having triggered four months ago in San Diego. He originally started out with the Wards there before transferring to Chicago two months later. A Breaker/Shaker; he's a walking telekinetic storm, grabbing anything and everything that isn't nailed down around his person."
I whistled. "Sounds like they'd be good to have in a fight," I said. "I don't think Rune will like Wanton very much."
"That's the Director's hope, anyway. They're scheduled to arrive first thing tomorrow. Chevalier and Aegis want you there to greet them."
I blinked, looking at Weller in confusion. "Wait, why me?"
"Well, you
are a senior member of the Wards."
"I've only been here a year."
"And you've been in quite a few scrapes since you joined," Weller pointed out. "You've had as much combat experience with the Wards as a seasoned member of the Protectorate. If it makes you feel any better, Gallant will be there as well." I sighed in relief. Gallant was a lot better at meet-and-greets than I was, regardless if I was in a Holon or not.
Julian arrived ten minutes after my talk with Weller. I found him lounging in the common room, sitting on a beanbag with a controller in his hands. Next to him was Dennis, also holding a controller.
"So, what's going on this time?" I asked as I walked over to the two.
Dennis looked up and grinned. "Oh, nothing much, just plotting Julian's utter defeat is all."
"In your dreams, man," Julian smirked. "Last I checked, you still can't beat Missy."
At the mention of the younger girl, I looked around and noticed she was nowhere to be found. "Speaking of Missy, where is she? Doesn't she usually join you when you guys are gaming?"
"She's out on patrol with Tommy and Charley. Lily wanted to go, but she's with Double G and Jamar. Somethin' about training with Miss Militia, I think."
"Might have something to do with Katherine and Oswald coming by tomorrow," Julian surmised. "I just hope for our sakes Dennis doesn't try his usual shtick."
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Dennis said in mock offense, knowing full well what Julian was talking about.
"You do realize Katherine knows kung-fu, right? Hell, I'm about to take some bets with Missy about whether she'll kick your ass."
I immediately jumped in. "I'll take that action."
Dennis flipped the bird at both of us, making us laugh.
I decided to join in on the festivities. I didn't need a controller since the game was on the ether. The commands for the game were accessed via a virtual console that appeared in my hands. I would like to say that I was good at games, but that would be lying. I sucked at them. The fact could not be anymore obvious than when Dennis, who played games when the opportunity presented itself, beat the ever-loving shit out of me in under a minute.
Julian fared slightly better than I did. I had the vain hope he would avenge my loss, but alas, it was not meant to be.
"God damn, that combo is such bullshit."
Dennis cackled. "Yes, that's right. Bow before the master of Street Fighter!"
The only reason he could say that was because Missy wasn't here. If she were, she'd dope-slap his ass faster than you could say Scion.
Truth be told, I enjoyed moments like these. When it was game time, we weren't teenagers having fun. We were capes working for the Vanguard, defending the citizens of Polity. For lack of better word, we were soldiers. Out there in the field, there was no time for celebration or hanging out. The moment you were in a Holon or in your costume, all you could do was fight, look out for people in need of help, and prayed you were in time.
But we weren't out in the field yet. Right here, right now, we were kids having fun. I cherished these times, because I never knew when I would see them again.
When I first joined the Wards, there used to be twenty-two of us. Now there were thirteen if you included Kid Win, who was in Boston with Armsmaster.
When I remembered Browb—
Trent, I remembered that stoic look of his, how cold and distant he was towards the rest of us. A look that betrayed the camaraderie he cherished, how protective he was for those under his care.
When I remembered Alec, I remembered how much I miss that asshole. He never took anything seriously, and out on the field he took an approach that skirted between the lines of heroes and villains. Despite his claims otherwise, he didn't hesitate taking a blast meant for Lisa. He died after having the last laugh, just like he wanted.
When I remembered Jouster, the prick, I remembered how stuck-up he was. He never treated me like he did the others, almost like I was some kind of social pariah. I never knew what I did to piss him off, nor did I care. It hadn't been until after Maine that I wished I knew what I did. Maybe if I had…
…when I remembered all the others, like Shelter, Chronicler, Arbiter, Young Buck…
"Taylor?"
I took a deep breathe and calmed my nerves. I hated whenever I found myself looking back at the past, at how many people we lost along the way. If Alec were here, he'd probably tell me something along the lines of
shut up and get over it. I could almost picture him saying that.
"Sorry, I was just lost in thought," I said to Julian.
My friend nodded in understanding. "You up for another game?"
"Sure. I have to avenge my honor somehow."
Dennis chuckled, greedily rubbing his palms together. "Prepare to be disappointed, Taylor Hebert."
After the second round of gaming, we disbanded in favor of going to see what Lily and the others were up to. Or at least I was; Julian still needed to talk to Weller about something and Dennis got called to the training room by Carlos.
Training Ground Beta was the result of the technical genius of yours truly and the other brilliant minds of Vanguard tinkerers. It was easily one of the largest rooms in the base, spanning the size of a football stadium in terms of length. Admittedly, I shamelessly took some designs from X-Men's 'Danger Room' as inspiration. Depending on who was in the room and what the training was, the room would adjust itself accordingly, creating hazards, obstacles and sending out drones to impede the room's inhabitants.
In this case, I arrived to see the aftermath of what looked like an extensive workout. Gentle Giant was lying flat on his back, wheezing while unsuccessfully trying to get back on his feet. Jamar was unconscious by the look of it and sporting a nasty-looking goose-egg above his left eyebrow. The only one still standing was Lily, and even she looked ready to drop down to the floor.
By contrast, Miss Militia was the only cape standing with zero problems. She wasn't wearing her usual fatigues, but instead a familiar tinkertech bodysuit with a green-and-blue colorscheme with red circuits. Leaning on her shoulder was an Anti-Materiel assault rifle.
"Best…" Lily wheezed. "Two outta three?"
Miss Militia smiled wryly. "That
was two out of three. Good try nonetheless, Flechette."
"I am starting to realize the downsides of not having enhanced strength," Double G bemoaned. "As well as how much rubber bullets hurt when they hit you in the eyes."
"Could be worse," I said, injecting myself into the conversation. "She could be using a shotgun instead."
Double G weakly raised a two-fingered salute in greeting. "Taylor…"
"Hey, Taylor…" Lily panted. "Come to…get wrecked…like the rest of us…?"
"No thanks, I've already had my dignity ruined thanks to Dennis," I replied before looking to Miss Militia. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
Miss Militia shook her head. "No, if anything, you came at just the right time." The rifle on her shoulder dissipated into nothing. "Are you up for a patrol around the city?"
It was mid-day when we went out. The sky was tinted orange and traffic around the city was beginning to slow to a trickle. There were not as many people out at this time of day, some returning from work and others going about their business. I almost envied how they could live their lives so easily, especially when in times like these.
We were patrolling the Commercial District for signs of gang activity. The drug addicts and would-be distributers were long since dismantled, but the Empire's remains and the ABB were still present.
Flechette stopped and stared at one of the nearby buildings. "Look at that," she said and pointed.
I followed her finger and saw a familiar insignia spray-painted on the shutter of a building. It was four Ls circled around each other, forming the shape of rectangular 'O'. I knew that insignia very well. I glared at it in the vain hope it would be set aflame, but alas, heat vision was not part of my skill set.
"It's not surprising there would be Union propaganda here," Miss Militia remarked coolly. "There are plenty of people in Brockton Bay who have voiced their displeasure with the Polity."
"We're doing the best we can," I said firmly. "Isn't that enough?"
The veteran cape sighed. "For some, the 'best you can' isn't enough."
Ain't that the truth? I thought bitterly.
That's the thing when it comes to heroics. There is no instruction manual to tell you what to do or how to go about the job. It's all trial by fire. The only way to learn is to jump feet-first into the fire, then go from there. The worst part isn't not knowing what comes next. The worst part is not knowing how to
deal with what comes afterwards. People love you for saving them and looking after them. People adore you when you succeed.
And they're just as quick to condemn and cuss at you when you fail. People love heroes so long as they do their job and win fights while protecting civilians.
These days, heroes got the short end of the stick. Every day, whether it's Union or villains, it feels like we're just barely winning. Sure, we still get praises. People still believe in us…but there are just as many people who think we're not 'doing enough'.
Sometimes, I think they're right.
A hand rapped against my shoulder. I look over and see Flechette looking at me in concern. "You doin' okay?"
"I'm fine," I replied.
She was not convinced. "Were you…thinking about what happened in Maine?"
"No, I was…" I sighed. "I was just—"
BOOM!
Never thought I would appreciate an explosion going off for saving me from an awkward conversation.
Miss Militia immediately went into combat mode, hand reaching to the communication earpiece. "Blue Crown, this is Miss Militia. What the hell was that?"
"Blue Crown to Miss Militia, we have eyes on the scene. We've got parahuman activity."
"ABB or Chosen?"
"Both. Yurei is engaging Stormtiger."
"We're on our way. Miss Militia, out." The veteran hero turned to Flechette and me. "Flechette, you take up the rear. Daemon, you're with me."
There was no more need for words. Patrol was officially over for now.
Time to get to work.
Aaaaaaaaaand here we are, with what will hopefully –HOPEFULLY- be my last fanfic for a good long while. I refuse to have more than a hundred god dammit. I did it once before, I will not do so again!
Anyway, for those unfamiliar with
gen:LOCK, it's more or less a mecha series created by RoosterTeeth (same people who created RWBY), whose main cast of characters pilot their mecha by digitizing their brains. It's an eight-episode series, and Season 2 recently got a teaser, which reinvigorated my plans for this fanfic.
Fun fact: Among the voice actors involved in gen:LOCK are Michael B. Jordan and David Tennant, the latter of whom should be recognizable to some for his portrayal of the Doctor from
Doctor Who.
The original version of this chapter was very short, barely 2k words and would have involved fighting Kaiser.
Regarding Taylor's powerset, she is a tinker here. I will also
not be going into any flashback sequences and are jumping straight into Taylor's life as a Ward well into her career. Information surrounding the current state of Earth-Bet, as well as certain mysteries like why the fuck are the Undersiders Wards and why the Wards from Los Angeles, New York, and Houston are in Brockton Bay, will be answered as we progress.
I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! On a quite note, the update schedule for this story is a little wonky as I mostly wrote this chapter when I was in the mood.
In regards to
Devil Trigger, the update bananza from hell will drop on August 20th. The reason for this is because I want to go over the chapters and see if there's anything I missed or fucked up on.
That's it for now! Oh, and before I forget, I recently published a new fanfic titled
Demon Slayer: Grimm Chronicles! Please take a look at it if any of you are interested.
See you!
