22 April 2011 1600 Lima(EDT)
Naurelin soared above the city of Brockton Bay, her altitude appropriate for the camera she was wearing to make a detailed survey of the damage done during the fighting with the gang formerly known as the Empire 88. Things along the Boardwalk were in decent shape, though the section of the street where the Rig's Goalkeeper Phalanx gun had opened up on Hookwolf was still torn up rather badly, despite Vista trying to concentrate the fire onto Hookwolf.
At the ferry terminal there was a small, improvised shrine with flowers and pictures, for the hero who had almost given everything he had to keep people safe. She nodded, as if she was agreeing with the people. She was just happy that it wasn't a shrine to Clockblocker's
memory.
"Naurelin, Console," came Vista's voice over the radio. "They need you to make a couple of passes over the Docks area, to see from the air what damage was done."
"Naurelin copies, Console. Coming around to pass over the Docks now," she rumbled. The new throat mike helped with the communications problems she'd had, namely being unable to reply. She had a remote control on the palm of one forepaw, and she keyed the camera to start recording as she began her pass. "Camera's rolling. Wow, looks like Leet had some issues to work out from the last time the Empire tried to recruit him."
"Naurelin, Andraste. I've been told that Uber & Leet tried to talk them down, but the Empire took a potshot at one of the mental models with them." There was a bit of silence. "I was also told it didn't end well, though Arunta and Ms. Wales showed great restraint. No one was killed or even seriously injured."
"Naurelin copies. Looks like they're cleaning things up… Is that a girl in a maid uniform I see down there?" Naurelin paused in her observations while a small golden drone buzzed around her. "Looks like they've noticed me."
She turned her attention to the drone as she soared above the docks. "Hi guys, just taking some pictures for my bosses." She included a friendly wave towards the Snitch. The drone waggled a bit then peeled off, doing whatever it had been tasked to do. Naurelin continued her pattern over the Docks, getting the footage the PRT and City wanted for purposes of planning repairs and getting Federal disaster assistance.
"Naurelin, Console. Arsmaster requests that you make a pass over the wreck in the channel. They've been watching some activity over there and are curious."
"Naurelin copies," she replied. "I do know that some kind of salvage operation should be taking place, according to my sources. It could be that this is the start of the work." With that, she banked towards the channel, and headed out over the wreck.
She could see the three ships that looked very old yet very new at the same time. Rather, the ships looked brand new, but the designs were very old. Still, they'd pulled up alongside the seaward side of the wreck, and she could see cables and lines running from them to the wreck. Flashes of blue-white light meant someone was making some temporary repairs to the hull, or removing something problematic. Or both.
The third ship was in the shallow channel to the side of the wreck, and appeared to be dredging up material from the bottom. Not having any way to communicate with the salvage team, she waggled her wings as she passed overhead. Once over the mouth of the channel, she wheeled around and headed back, taking more pictures of the south side of Brockton Bay before turning for home.
- - - - - - - - - -
Dale looked up as the great flying creature flew overhead, waggling it's wings. She noticed that many of her work drones, which looked like child sized versions of herself, were staring skyward, chattering amongst themselves with exclamations of poi, desu, eh, hey, wot, and other sounds that were totally incomprehensible to anyone but a mental model.
The quantum communications link crackled to life.
"Wow," exclaimed Jenny, who was watching things from the other end of the wreck. "Not something you see every day."
Dale nodded. "Yep. Good thing our boss gave us updated intel about things here. Otherwise, we might have found out who was better armed, a dragon or a battleship."
Suzy chimed in from where she was processing the silt from the shipping channel. "My money would be on the battleship."
"Uh huh," Jenny replied. "Some of the things Arunta said were strange. I don't want to find out if that one," and the channel displayed a picture of Naurelin, "can drain every last bit of energy out of me."
"That would be bad," Dale added. "Very bad." Surprisingly, Physics said nothing exciting like the sudden release of all the binding energy would happen, but the side effects of doing that would mean some catastrophic damage to herself and to the environment immediately surrounding her. Nowhere near as bad as having her entire mass converted directly into energy, which would be an extinction level event, but bad enough to ensure a very bad day for the nearby city for several years.
"So noted, chief," came Suzy's uneasy reply. "No pissing off the out of context flying creature."
//\\//\\//\\
Miss Militia pulled to a stop in front of the Pelham residence. Her normal, official mode of transportation – her custom Harley-Davidson motorcycle – was currently a collection of broken and charred parts, having taken the RPG meant for her when the Empire 88 had staged an uprising. For the time being she had a normal PRT motorpool motorcycle until a new Harley could be procured.
She pulled a notebook from one of the saddlebags and walked up to the front door. Knocking a couple of times, she waited. Soon the door opened, revealing Sarah Pelham. She looked kind of frazzled, but managed a smile.
"Miss Militia," she said, "please, come in. What business brings you here today?"
At the other woman's invitation, she entered the house. "Business, though thankfully, unofficial business."
Sarah closed the door. "I'm assuming this is about Panacea," she said. "We'd been trying to figure out the best way to reveal what happened in February, but it looks like matters have been taken out of our hands." Sarah gestured to the study where Sarah usually handled New Wave business. "Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?"
"Some iced tea would be nice," Miss Militia said as she sat down in one of the very comfortable chairs in the office. It wasn't long before Sarah was back with a couple glasses of iced tea. She took a sip and waited for the woman to sit down before continuing. "As you can imagine, there are some questions about what happened last Wednesday, and Panacea's sudden ability to transform to and from a dragon."
"We're not entirely clear on the why either," Sarah admitted, "other than it appears to be a side effect of the process that resuscitated her after she'd been shredded during that incident with the Merchants.
"Outwardly, the only change that's noticeable is that Amy grew three inches, and became less chunky and more wiry, if that makes any sense. She still has some difficulty with the events that led to that."
"Aegis said the same in a report he made," Miss Militia added. "Quote, 'She started getting really stressed out, and partially changed' during lunch at school, while they were talking about related things. Armsmaster also had questions, but most of his questions were answered by Director Piggot, who knew some of what happened. He deferred the rest of his questions, waiting for the results of my own inquiries."
"That Director Piggot knew is news to me," Sarah replied, one eyebrow arched. "Am I going to need to call her over to answer some questions?"
"Since doing so would inevitably involve Brandish in New Wave Legal Counsel mode, I'd like to try to avoid that. But if you get a chance to speak privately with her unofficially, there's no reason you can't ask."
Sarah's cellphone played a little jingle. "Excuse me a moment," she said as she looked at the message. "That was Amy. 'Saw a PRT bike outside your house, suspect I know what it's about. Need me over?'"
"If she's volunteering. Be sure to tell her this isn't official in any way, just getting a heads-up for my bosses."
- - - - - - - - - -
"Hello, Miss Militia," Amy greeted the heroine in her aunt's study. "I take it this is about me having a Changer power to become a dragon, with all the attendant powers?"
"Yes, it is."
"It started off with me getting shot up at the end of February, something I'm loath to repeat." She sat down in one of the less comfortable chairs in the room. "Whatever power Naurelin used to bring me back came with a personal cost, though I suspect that's because of the being that grants that Power rather than Naurelin herself."
"Another being grants her the Power to resuscitate the dead?" Miss Militia asked.
"The Power is more nuanced than that, but yes. You've met her, I suspect. Tall, regal, Middle Eastern looks? She appears to be one of Naurelin's patrons," Amy explained. "I've not met Tiamat personally, only seen the video of her appearance at Medhall – which was awesome and terrifying – and what Taylor has told me. She's incredibly powerful. As Naurelin told us at school, 'Real wrath of God stuff.' Also, when it happened I met yet
another dragon who talked me through deciding what to do; I was actually given a choice, even if I can't prove that."
Miss Militia just wrote some notes in her notebook while Amy spoke. "Director Piggot said she knew about this, but not how."
"Every second or third night, we all get together in a shared lucid dream, where we all learn about what we can do, practice our skills in a safe environment, and generally learn about dragons and being dragons and other things like that. Director Piggot and Dragon join us less often." Amy leaned back in her chair. "As to who is teaching us, there are other dragons who are local to the area…"
"The parents of Naichi, I presume?" Miss Militia interrupted.
"...Yes, though their identities are covered by a form of the Unwritten Rules." Amy shrugged, then grinned. "If the thought of angry Parahumans coming after you for breaking the Unwritten Rules is frightening, think of something three times the size of Naurelin with an axe to grind coming after you."
"Perish the thought," Miss Militia muttered. "They'll be treated like any other parahuman; if they don't give us a reason to dig into their identities, we won't go looking."
Sarsh Pelham had sat back quietly while Amy had talked. "It isn't like New Wave deliberately hid this," she said, "but rather, never made mention of it. We were trying to find an opportunity to announce this, and even had a few ideas, but things were taken out of our hands when Clockblocker was injured." Sarah took a sip from her iced tea. "We feel she made the right choice, since her normal form of rapid transportation was busy subduing Fenja. How is the boy doing?"
Miss Militia chuckled. "Clockblocker is doing just fine, champing at the bit and wanting to go home. He may have to wait a bit before resuming his Wards' duties, but that's the Youth Guard talking."
//\\//\\//\\
Dauntless looked at the scene below him. His patrol that evening had been one of the aerial routes that covered the south side of the city. In this case, he was flying over the old Southpoint Mall, where something was going on out in the parking lot. Several large tents had been set up in the parking lot, and a pair of semi trailers were parked nearby.
"Console, Dauntless. I'm near my turn-around point and noticed some activity in the parking lot of the old Southpoint Mall. Anything I should be concerned about?"
"Dauntless, Console. What information we have is that it's Uber & Leet, setting up for one of their shows. It appears to be all above board, all permits and licenses filed. Even donating proceeds to local charities. Check it out if you want, it is advised to not push too hard."
"Dauntless copies, Console. I'm going to drop in to check things out."
- - - - - - - - - -
"Heads up guys," Arunta called out. "Looks like the Protectorate's here."
"Right," came back Uber's reply, "I'm on it!" Uber walked out from the trailer where he'd been taking care of something to meet Dauntless, who was landing away from the tents, waving to get the hero's attention. "Good evening, oh Spartany one! What can I help you with?"
"Good evening, Uber. I was curious what's going on here?" Dauntless asked, surveying the scene around him. "Given your… activities, I think that's a fair question."
"As you have no doubt surmised," Uber answered, "we're getting ready for an event. Unlike previous ones, which were legally questionable, this one is for charity, to help families rebuild after the Empire 88's failed attempt at insurrection."
"I see," Dauntless deadpanned. "I find that kind of hard to believe."
"Seriously, this is all above board. We got all our permits filed, have a signature bond on file for property damage, and are even renting the equipment, so it won't blow up on us!"
"That would explain the Dragontech generator trucks." Dauntless sighed. "Sorry about that, it's just you two have given us so many minor headaches."
"We know," Uber said with a smile. "We try to keep you guys on your toes. Would you rather throw down with Lung, wrecking major sections of the city, or do something interesting that doesn't wreck things -- too much."
Dauntless noticed the Uber had added the last bit hastily, obviously remembering some of the more energetic failures of Leet's tinkertech. "So what's this all about?"
"Come on, and I'll give you a tour..."
