Many thanks to @dwood15, @Technetium43, @fabledFreeboota, and @Assembler for betareading.
Many thanks to @MugaSofer for fact checking.
-x-x-x-
Wards HQ was empty, besides me. On one wall, the TV was playing an ongoing newscast, covering the ongoing bombing spree. I sat on the right-hand side of the leather, three-seat couch across from it, one elbow propped up on the armrest. My water bottle, half full, sat on the coffee table by my left arm.
"The bombings have slowed in recent days, but still continue largely unimpeded. Brockton Bay's hospitals report—"
My eyes were closed, my head resting on my fists as I let the anchor's voice wash over me.
The elevator opened. I glanced over without raising my head from its perch on my hands. Carlos stepped out, fully done up in mask and costume.
"How'd it go?" I asked.
He let out a sigh. "Villains," he said, ripping off his mask. "Where are the others?"
"Chris is in the workshop, Sophia's taking a nap, Dean and Sam are both out somewhere, and I think Missy's at home."
"—night, the offices of the local software firm BayMobile were struck by a tinkertech explosive, which—"
"All right." Carlos took a seat on the couch beside me and stretching his arms out to his sides, resting on the sofa's upper cushions. "We don't need to assemble yet, but we'll need them all to come in tonight."
"We're attacking?"
"Yes—in conjunction with the Protectorate and Faultline's Crew. We're going for Über and Leet's base while Faultline and the Protectorate make a two-pronged attack onto ABB territory. They're going to be looking for Bakuda while we hold off her support."
I grimaced. "I'd hoped to fight her."
"We all did," Carlos said, a wry smile crossing his features. "The important part is that she gets taken down."
"—no injuries, as the building was empty; however, employees report that overtime is common at the firm and—"
"We can't leave the Rig and PRT HQ undefended this time," I said. "What if she decides to hit us at home while we're out looking for her?"
"I know. That's why we're keeping at least two capes at both locations. One Protectorate hero on console at the Rig, one Ward on console here, and at least one hero to support each."
"Have you decided who's staying here?"
Carlos shook his head. "I was hoping you had ideas. We need a cape who can hold their own, but who won't be as useful as the others storming a tinker's workshop."
I sighed.
"What?"
"Think about it. Sophia's no good on defense, so she's out. Sam's best on support; he's not a powerhouse on his own. Same with Dennis, Dean, and Chris. And the assault team will need Vista."
"So, you or me."
"—police investigation of the tinker responsible suggests that the agency responsible is the local gang know as the ABB, or Azn—"
I nodded. "And they'll need you in the field," I said. "They need a leader."
"You can lead. They—we—all trust you."
I shook my head. "I can get them to follow, yeah," I said. "But I don't know my way around a battlefield yet. It's just a matter of experience, but you saw how the fight at the bank went. Piggot tore me apart after that."
"Yeah, but I also saw how the fight on the Rig went," Carlos argued. "You know what you're doing."
"I know what I'm doing when it's just me. I know how I work, I know how to use my skills and tools effectively." I shrugged. "Good for me, but I can't lead a team into battle. Not yet—I'll get there. For now, though, we need someone who already knows what they're doing."
"—Protectorate had apprehended the villain 'Lung' earlier this month, but last Sunday he—"
Carlos looked into his hands as the TV droned in the background. The golden light of Laureya shone from his finger and reflected into his eyes. After a lengthy pause, he said, "You're right. I don't like having to attack their base without you, but you're right."
"I'll still be there," I said, nudging him. "I'll be on console, after all."
"—the heroes can't keep prisoners in check, how can we—"
In a burst of motion Carlos stood up and slapped the table, dislodging my water bottle and sending it rolling onto the floor.
"Fuck this guy," he muttered, vaulting over the coffee table and turning off the TV manually.
"I had the remote," I offered, holding it up from where it had sat nestled against my side.
He looked over at me, his jaw clenched. After a moment, he sighed, tension bleeding out of his frame. "I'm just…." He stopped, shook his head. "I'm so tired of this. We're
trying. Can't they see we're
trying?"
I shrugged and shook my head as I said, "They really don't get it."
"No. No, they don't. You'd really think I'd be used to it by now."
"Why should you be? The people you're trying to protect are too busy
questioning you to notice how much you're doing for them. That's grounds to get annoyed, I'd say."
Carlos turned away, resting his head against the wall. "It's grounds," he agreed, his voice slightly muffled. "It's definitely grounds. But getting annoyed there? That's how half the heroes-turned-villains get started."
"You're not a villain, Carlos. You're not even close."
"I know." He shoved off the wall and turned back to face me. "Because I don't
allow myself to ask questions like those. I don't allow myself to get annoyed with them. I'm sorry I broke down like this
. The villains just… got to me."
I shook my head. "You're a hero because you care about the people who can't protect themselves," I said. "No matter how annoyed with them you get, you won't stop caring."
"You don't know that."
I raised an eyebrow at him. "I gave you Laureya, didn't I?"
He glanced away.
I continued when he didn't answer. "The Ring of the Sun. I told you, it's more than just a tool. It's a part of you now."
"I know. It's a responsibility."
"And the means to
fulfill that responsibility."
"Yeah. I—"
His phone chimed
—a text. He pulled it out of his pocket, checked it. "Armsmaster wants me at the Rig. We're going to plan the operation tonight."
"Good luck."
He smiled at me—a frail, wan expression, wavering even as it appeared and vanishing quickly. "I'll tell them you'll take console," he said. "Can you get the others to meet at the Rig in about an hour and a half?"
"Definitely."
"Thanks. See you there."
-x-x-x-
The setting sun cast a flickering light over the uneven surface of the ocean. It shone in through the east-facing window, glittering like a hoard of gold. A faint band of pale cloud hung just above the horizon, out to sea, and beneath their shadow the night had already fallen. The sky was deepening into darker blues and purples in the east, even as light still shone on the water from the west. The long shadow of the Rig cast an imposing silhouette upon the waves, its edges shuddering slightly on the shifting water.
On the carpet behind my seat, Vista paced back and forth, her eyes alternating between the ocean and the map of the Bay on the wall. Clockblocker sat on my left, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling. Sophia was on my right, polishing one of her crossbows. Gallant drummed his fingers on the polished wood of the long table, and Browbeat sat perfectly still beside him.
Kid Win was finishing a project in the workshop—he'd asked us to fill him in later.
"Where
are they?" Vista exploded, her voice cutting into the evening silence like a knife. "The clock's ticking!"
"Planning, I'd assume," said Sophia, her voice a deadpan monotone.
"Well, what's taking them so long?"
"Vista, it's all right. Come sit down," Gallant said. "We've got time."
Vista took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Yeah," she sighed. "Yeah, I—sorry. I'm just—pent up, you know?"
"We all get it," he said as she came and sat beside him. "We all feel the same."
"Waiting for a fight is the
worst," Sophia chimed in.
Vista grunted an agreement and leaned back against her chair, eyes closing. Quiet fell across the table.
"Oh, hey, I've got one," said Clockblocker, suddenly breaking the silence.
"One what?" I asked after a moment. The fact that no one else spoke up should probably have warned me.
"What do aliens do before a fight?" he asked.
"What?"
"Planet."
There was a round of groans, and Vista's forehead met the table with a resounding
clunk. My head turned slowly to stare at him. He stared back, his face hidden behind his mask.
"No," I said. "Bad Clockblocker."
"Plenty more where that came from." He was laughing as he spoke.
"Please no."
At that moment, the door across from us opened. Armsmaster led the way in, followed by Aegis. In a moment, all of us were around the table—the seven present Wards and the seven Protectorate heroes.
Armsmaster spoke first. "Wards, Protectorate," he said, "Aegis, Miss Militia and I have developed a plan in conjunction with the Director. Miss Militia?"
Miss Militia cleared her throat. "The Protectorate will be pushing an offensive into the ABB's territory proper," she said. "We will be seeking to bait Lung into a direct fight so that Armsmaster can defeat him using his tinkertech tranquilizers once again. Faultline's Crew will be pushing in from the other direction in a pincer maneuver."
Aegis took over from there. "Meanwhile, the Wards will be headed for Über and Leet's base. With help from Faultline, we've isolated its location. They're in a warehouse near the shoreline just north of downtown, between ABB and Empire territories. It's a tinker's base, so expect resistance and fortifications."
"Of course, as we saw last Sunday," Armsmaster said dryly, "we can't afford to leave
our bases undefended. That's why one Ward and one Protectorate member will be staying behind at each location—here and PRT Headquarters.
"Dauntless will be staying here, on Protectorate console. In support, he'll have Browbeat."
Browbeat nodded once, his face impassive under his mask. By the furrowing of his brow, Dauntless seemed slightly disappointed, but he gave no complaint.
"At PRT Headquarters, Annatar will be taking Wards console—"
"Wait, what?" Sophia asked sharply. "You're benching
Annatar?"
"It's fine, Shadow Stalker," I soothed. "I knew about this."
"You're one of our strongest capes!" she argued. "We need you out there!"
"We
need someone defending the home base." Aegis stared Sophia down, and I saw the telltale corona of Laureya infusing him as he channeled his ability to control his subordinates. "Annatar volunteered, Shadow Stalker. She'll be coordinating us on console. We needed someone who could hold their own to take the defense."
"I could take the console," Sophia said. "I—"
"
Enough, Stalker," Armsmaster growled. "Annatar will be on Wards console, with Triumph supporting her at PRT HQ. That is final."
Aegis stood up. "And with that, we'd better get back there," he said. "We need to get ready. Kid Win's still working on something?"
I nodded. "He's already at PRT HQ," I said. "I think he's testing something to help with the fight tonight."
"Good. We'll go meet him there. Armsmaster, permission to take the Wards back to base?"
"Granted. Keep in radio contact, and good luck, Aegis."
Aegis nodded and led us out of the room. Once the door shut behind us, he rounded on Sophia.
"What was that?" he growled.
"We
need Annatar in the field," she barked—quietly, to avoid being heard by the heroes on the other side of the door. "I can't do half as good an infiltration on my own, and she can take a hit better than any of us besides you. What the
hell are you benching her for?"
"For exactly that reason," I said. "I've got the most well-rounded powerset of us, Shadow Stalker. If Bakuda or Lung decides to attack base because of what we're doing, I can hold them off longer than any other one of us.
"That's what
Triumph is there for," grumbled Sophia.
"Yes," I agreed. "But two capes are better than one."
Aegis shook his head. "All this is beside the point," he said. "Shadow Stalker, you
can't undermine my authority like that in the middle of a meeting with the Protectorate."
Sophia gritted her teeth. For a moment, they glared at each other before Aegis sighed and turned away. "Let's get to base," he said.
As we followed him out, I heard Sophia mutter a reply, almost inaudible. "I'm not here for
you."
I glanced at her, but she avoided my gaze, and after a moment, I looked away again.
-x-x-x-
"Okay, so I've been working on this for the past week or so," said Kid Win, fiddling with the communications console and hooking up several wires to it. "I started rushing it when I heard we'd be attacking tonight. Only just managed to get it through testing."
"What is it?" I asked, studying the console. Where before it had been a desk with a few screens, microphones, dials and switches on it, now it was augmented by eight screens which were attached to the wall behind it, rising two up and four across. Each was wired into the back of the console, connected to a black box I was sure hadn't been there before.
Kid Win tossed me something—I caught it instinctively and brought it up to my eyes. It was a small camera, or so it seemed, attached to an adhesive panel.
"Each of us attaches one of those to our masks," he said, pointing at the camera he'd fitted onto his visor, "and the feed gets broadcast back here. It's encrypted using one of Dragon's codes, so it should be pretty damn secure."
"So I'll have visual as well as an audio channel?"
"Exactly! Just, uh, be careful not to get too caught up in it, all right? Don't want to have any crossed wires between you and Aegis. Contradictory orders, that sort of thing."
"Of course. Thanks, Kid Win."
He grinned at me, shaking his head. "Thank
you. I'd never have been able to finish
one tinkertech camera before Mirilya. Now I've made
eight of them. I've built more in the past week than I did in two months before."
I smiled. "I'm glad it's treating you well," I said. "Be careful that it doesn't become a crutch, though. You hadn't found your specialty before, right?"
"No," he admitted. "But I don't even
need it, anymore! I can—"
"Your specialty is what makes your tinkertech different from just very advanced ordinary technology," I cut him off. "Mirilya is a painkiller, Chris—it's blocking symptoms, but you'll never fully come into your own unless you force yourself to push past that and find your specialty. A Ring of Power is a wonderful tool, but it's no substitute for real knowledge and growth."
He looked away. "Right." There was a pause.
"All the same, thank you for this," I said, sitting down in the console chair. "I've been worried all day about sitting here with no ability to really tell what's going on while you guys are out on the battlefield."
Kid Win grimaced. "It's not fun, I can tell you that," he said. "Anyway, this screen is mine." He tapped the power button on one of the eight new monitors and the screen lit up, displaying my face hidden under the bright silver of my helmet, dark hair cascading behind me.
Kid Win pointed out the other seven screens, ending with mine. "I'll go pass these out," he said.
"I'll come with you," I said, standing up. "I'll see you all off before you leave."
-x-x-x-
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