Shenanigans 17 - Mischief I
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
It was a very sleepy group of Wards that made their way to the dining hall for a slightly delayed breakfast the next morning. The cleanup after Bastard Son's attempt at dragon hunting had taken several hours, along with recording everyone's statements and getting everyone debriefed. Even Armsmaster was in favor of letting the Wards get some extra rest.
Which meant instead of being up at the crack of dawn, they were allowed to sleep in to around eight AM.
Breakfast was simple, hearty and plentiful. Taylor herself had a plate heaped with eggs, ham, bacon and potatoes, the abundance and omissions being something others had gently teased her about. "I wonder how many more times I'm going to be interviewed about that idiot," she said with a yawn.
"At the very least," Amy added, "he found out that the information the PRT has on their website about Naurelin is understating her abilities."
"It understates everyone's abilities while trying to sound like bragging," Ethan noted. "More fool he for not noticing."
Vicky, arriving later than even the Wards and her own sister, floated through the door, or at least tried to. She bumped into the door jamb a couple of times before she finally got through. "Ugh, what a night," she said sleepily. "And I didn't get to hit anything either."
"At least no one got hurt," Theresa said from where she was enjoying her breakfast. "That would have thrown a wrench into our schedule for things."
"We had a schedule?" quipped Ethan from where he was eating his breakfast, consisting mainly of pop tarts and coffee.
"Of course we did," Karen groused. "I suspect Colin had the next several days scheduled out for efficient use of everyone's time."
"I can hear you, you know," Colin noted from where he was eating his breakfast and working on something on a tablet. "Fortunately, my assistance, along with Chris and Theresa's, has been requested by the Aleshins. We should be getting another couple of visitors later today, in addition to the three joining us for breakfast.
"I suspect all of you are familiar with Samira," he said while the former Simurgh was happily munching away at a bowl of cereal. "Her companions are Matthew," and with that, the large black youth saluted the group with his coffee cup, "And Nathan." The young man with the swimmer's build waved and went back to stuffing pieces of toast into his mouth.
"They're here to help our younger members with Power usage. Matthew and Nathan will help Takara, while Samira will be working with Dinah."
"Mr. Wallis?" Taylor asked, politely.
"Yes, Taylor?"
"Can you explain to me why we had to go through all that to finally arrest Bastard Son? I mean, we all got shot at, the resort got shot up, but we knew he was coming. Why didn't we stop him before all this?" Taylor's voice had a note of exasperation to it.
"I'll take this one, Colin," Theresa said. "OK, you know how the PRT and Protectorate are Federal agencies?"
Taylor nodded. "We're part of the military, but not, which is confusing."
"One part Department of Defense due to the firepower needed, one part FBI so it can operate inside the borders, and independent of both for various reasons. Due to the resulting jurisdictional issues, the PRT and Protectorate can only arrest someone if they catch the person in the act or if there is a Federal warrant for their arrest. The Department of Justice here in the US doesn't get along with the PRT, so the PRT and Protectorate have to make sure they have all the evidence to prove their case in front of a judge to get one instead of the lesser standard of probable cause that's usually used. The US Treasury department is one of the more reliable agencies to get warrants from, and surprisingly, the Fish and Wildlife Service." There was a pause as she took a drink of juice before continuing.
"It's a bit different in Canada, where the PRT and Protectorate aren't as limited by law in what they can and can't do."
"There were a couple of incidents in the nineties that resulted in piss-poor laws that curtailed our ability to make arrests," Ethan said, having worked his way through a bowl of Tinker Crunch cereal. "An incident in South Dakota resulted in the town of Sturgis becoming a pile of rubble. After that, Congress passed some laws that handicapped the PRT in general. It's like someone wanted us to be less effective. What're the odds?"
"94.2478% likely," Dinah said before giving Ethan a dirty look. "Mr, Walsh, please don't do that." She'd barely had time to swallow, and had to wipe her mouth after.
"Sorry, Dinah," Ethan replied sincerely. "I'll try not to, but I can't guarantee it."
"That's fine," the girl answered. "After all, you wouldn't want all the spiders in your sleeping bag, right?" Dinah's grin was pure mischief.
"And that's why I'm going to figure out a more concrete way to say I'm sorry," Ethan replied with a grin. "So no spiders from all the surrounding woods in my sleeping bag, OK?"
"Deal."
Karen Walsh, better known to most as Battery, looked at Taylor. "If it's any consolation, your father is going to be getting the same explanation from Director Renick today." She shook her head. "I suspect he's going to be much more upset than you were.
"Now, for the morning, since we were all up well into the pre-dawn hours, we're keeping the schedule clear," she explained. "Take it easy, rest, play, whatever. Trust me, your counselors will be doing the same, since we were up much later. After lunch, we'll go over the schedule for the remainder of the day."
"Did you have to sit on them, Dennis?" Panacea asked. "Even at your reduced size, I still had to fix a lot of broken bones." Almost everyone was sitting in a common area in the dining hall.
"I didn't do that," Dennis retorted. "I barely put any weight on them, just enough to hold them down. They wouldn't stop struggling, even after being told several times to stop. I don't remember feeling any bones break while they were there."
"I think the broken hand was from the guy who tried to punch Armsmaster," Aegis said. "One of the side effects of Bastard Son's powers is diminished intelligence, according to what the PRT has on him."
Amy stared into space for a moment before saying, "Okay, those could have been self-inflicted stupidity."
"I hope the PRT drops him in a very deep hole and forgets about him," Taylor grumbled. "This is the third idiot that's tried to kill me."
"I believe your fight with Lung was you putting yourself between him and 'innocents'," Vista added. "Who was the third idiot?"
"Actually, in chronological order they were the first idiots, meaning Sophia and Emma," Taylor grumbled. "Followed by whoever shot at me with some rifles that are normally used for destroying armored trucks, and then this guy.
"Being a dragon is great and all," Taylor continued, "but it seems that there's a line of idiots wanting to try and slay the dragon." She slumped down in her comfy chair.
"Well," said Theresa as she walked into the area, "you'll be happy to know that by international agreement, dragons are considered a critically endangered species. And because of the incident with Naichi, they're also considered human in the US and Canada." She grinned fiercely. "So, not only does he get an attempted murder charge, he gets hit with massive fines and forfeiture of property because of that. Then the government really gets involved. If that idiot ends up with a cent left to his name, I'll be surprised.
"If it's any consolation, Taylor," Theresa continued, "I kind of know how you feel. I had a group of idiots who were after me all the time, trying to steal my stuff. They'd even managed to 'enchant' me, affecting my mind and creating blind spots. I'm so glad Saint and company are behind bars or in an asylum."
"And let's not forget what the BATF will have to say about Bastard Son having – and using – two anti-tank missiles," Ethan said from where he was juggling some rubber balls. "While officially it will be summed up as violations of Federal statutes, it could best be said that he's screwed." Assault expertly caught all five of the balls he was juggling. "What I don't get is why. The idiot ball he was carrying around was almost big enough to keep a guy from doing anything."
"That is a question we're looking to answer," Colin said as he walked in. "So far, even with Samira's help, it's not going well." He took a drink of the normal coffee he had. "Chris, Theresa and I will need your help with a project and evaluating another Tinker later today. "
Chris looked up from his tablet. "OK. Where and when?"
"After lunch," Colin answered, "and here in camp. We have also recovered your equipment, functioning and not. It is placed in a secure box at the men's cabin."
Chris shut down the tablet. "Looks like my morning is planned out then. Anything needed for the investigation?"
"We have already downloaded the video from the non-functional turrets," Colin answered, "so no. We have what we need. I need to get back to work as well." With that, he finished his cup of coffee and walked out of the room, placing the mug at the dirty dishes station as he left.
"So, Theresa," Taylor asked. "How did you deal with the stress Saint and the Dragonslayers caused you?"
"Normally, I'd talk with a friend," Theresa said after thinking a bit. "There were also a couple of times where I fired up a simulation and proceeded to destroy a virtual environment." She looked at Taylor. "Everyone deals with stress differently, Taylor. Find out what works for you."
"I, however, know the perfect cure for stress for you to try, Tay," Vicky announced. "Get whatever you need, we're going flying."
"So, Emily," Mike Renick said, looking over at the currently suspended special operations director, "do you mind telling me what you were doing at the old boat landing in Vaughan Woods State Park last night?"
"I was swimming," Emily said. "Power-based needs and all that."
"I get that," Mike replied. "What about the fact that you were sitting next to three inflatable boats that had our perpetrators' fingerprints and other evidence all over them, and were watching the disturbance going on across the river while eating a pair of Fugly Bob's dragon burgers?"
"While I was swimming, I encountered a citizen who was concerned that three boats had been left unsecured on the far bank, and they thought the former occupants were up to something.
"Since I'm currently suspended, I did the only thing I could do, which was re-secure the boats – which I did with the citizen's help – and called both Dover 911 and the PRT's number, because Wards were clearly involved at some point." Emily stopped to take a drink from the cup of water she had at the table.
"I don't like playing games with the rules and regs, Mike," she said, leaning back in the chair. "I did what the rules said I could do and not jeopardize the investigation into my alleged misconduct, nor the operation to catch Bastard Son in the act so a felony arrest could be made."
"So noted," Renick stated. "Could we talk to your concerned citizen?"
"It's possible, but I have no easy way to contact him; he's kind of a hermit. I managed to get a picture with my phone that should explain things." She brought up an image, and sent it to Renick's tablet, with predictable results.
"Gaaaah! Who or what is that!?" he shouted in shock.
"That's Bitey," Emily calmly explained. "Known as Ol' Bitey in local folklore."
"I thought Ol' Bitey was supposed to be a big snapping turtle?"
"He's a relatively young dragon turtle I encountered while swimming last night; they tend to resemble southern alligator snapping turtles of… unusual size. He was more interested in pursuing a possible… romantic partner, but he did help me shift the boats back across the river and properly secure them at the boat landing. Which you have to admit, aided in the capture of Bastard Son and his minions, because it cut off a means of escape.
"And I don't need to remind you about his status as a person," she reminded him. "He was perfectly able to communicate in an intelligent fashion – even if it wasn't in English – and would be considered a citizen of the US because he was born here about forty years ago. Subsistence living, so he's tax exempt."
"Yes, I'm well aware of the mess the incident with Naichi has caused," Mike replied. "There are currently eleven challenges to that in front of Federal courts, none are expected to succeed." He tapped the screen on his tablet. "Of all the cases except hers, they're all mostly human – two arms, two legs, head, with skin instead of fur. Or at least enough skin to make things obvious. Some have lived in the US all their lives, some came over as immigrants. The most non-human group that's applied for citizenship is Tucker's group."
"Oh God, I can see the look on the judge's face now," Emily sniggered. "Still, they must have behaved themselves."
"They got Quinn Calle to represent them at their hearing," Mike admitted. "As much as I dislike the man professionally, he does get the job done."
"Could have been worse," Emily added, pacing her words for proper timing. "Could have been the bunch out of Concord. You know, Grabbe, Sacke, and Twiste?"
Mike's water exploded out of his cup in an epic spit take. "Must you, Emily? I'd expect this from Assault or Clockblocker."
"I've been reminded that I need to laugh a little more," Emily admitted, "by someone whose opinion I respect very much. Also a dragon thing, apparently, so it could be called a Power-based need. At least it wasn't Dewey, Beatham, and Howe out of Boston."
Mike Renick had been waiting for the punchline, and his only response was an almost impressive glare.
Which meant instead of being up at the crack of dawn, they were allowed to sleep in to around eight AM.
Breakfast was simple, hearty and plentiful. Taylor herself had a plate heaped with eggs, ham, bacon and potatoes, the abundance and omissions being something others had gently teased her about. "I wonder how many more times I'm going to be interviewed about that idiot," she said with a yawn.
"At the very least," Amy added, "he found out that the information the PRT has on their website about Naurelin is understating her abilities."
"It understates everyone's abilities while trying to sound like bragging," Ethan noted. "More fool he for not noticing."
Vicky, arriving later than even the Wards and her own sister, floated through the door, or at least tried to. She bumped into the door jamb a couple of times before she finally got through. "Ugh, what a night," she said sleepily. "And I didn't get to hit anything either."
"At least no one got hurt," Theresa said from where she was enjoying her breakfast. "That would have thrown a wrench into our schedule for things."
"We had a schedule?" quipped Ethan from where he was eating his breakfast, consisting mainly of pop tarts and coffee.
"Of course we did," Karen groused. "I suspect Colin had the next several days scheduled out for efficient use of everyone's time."
"I can hear you, you know," Colin noted from where he was eating his breakfast and working on something on a tablet. "Fortunately, my assistance, along with Chris and Theresa's, has been requested by the Aleshins. We should be getting another couple of visitors later today, in addition to the three joining us for breakfast.
"I suspect all of you are familiar with Samira," he said while the former Simurgh was happily munching away at a bowl of cereal. "Her companions are Matthew," and with that, the large black youth saluted the group with his coffee cup, "And Nathan." The young man with the swimmer's build waved and went back to stuffing pieces of toast into his mouth.
"They're here to help our younger members with Power usage. Matthew and Nathan will help Takara, while Samira will be working with Dinah."
"Mr. Wallis?" Taylor asked, politely.
"Yes, Taylor?"
"Can you explain to me why we had to go through all that to finally arrest Bastard Son? I mean, we all got shot at, the resort got shot up, but we knew he was coming. Why didn't we stop him before all this?" Taylor's voice had a note of exasperation to it.
"I'll take this one, Colin," Theresa said. "OK, you know how the PRT and Protectorate are Federal agencies?"
Taylor nodded. "We're part of the military, but not, which is confusing."
"One part Department of Defense due to the firepower needed, one part FBI so it can operate inside the borders, and independent of both for various reasons. Due to the resulting jurisdictional issues, the PRT and Protectorate can only arrest someone if they catch the person in the act or if there is a Federal warrant for their arrest. The Department of Justice here in the US doesn't get along with the PRT, so the PRT and Protectorate have to make sure they have all the evidence to prove their case in front of a judge to get one instead of the lesser standard of probable cause that's usually used. The US Treasury department is one of the more reliable agencies to get warrants from, and surprisingly, the Fish and Wildlife Service." There was a pause as she took a drink of juice before continuing.
"It's a bit different in Canada, where the PRT and Protectorate aren't as limited by law in what they can and can't do."
"There were a couple of incidents in the nineties that resulted in piss-poor laws that curtailed our ability to make arrests," Ethan said, having worked his way through a bowl of Tinker Crunch cereal. "An incident in South Dakota resulted in the town of Sturgis becoming a pile of rubble. After that, Congress passed some laws that handicapped the PRT in general. It's like someone wanted us to be less effective. What're the odds?"
"94.2478% likely," Dinah said before giving Ethan a dirty look. "Mr, Walsh, please don't do that." She'd barely had time to swallow, and had to wipe her mouth after.
"Sorry, Dinah," Ethan replied sincerely. "I'll try not to, but I can't guarantee it."
"That's fine," the girl answered. "After all, you wouldn't want all the spiders in your sleeping bag, right?" Dinah's grin was pure mischief.
"And that's why I'm going to figure out a more concrete way to say I'm sorry," Ethan replied with a grin. "So no spiders from all the surrounding woods in my sleeping bag, OK?"
"Deal."
Karen Walsh, better known to most as Battery, looked at Taylor. "If it's any consolation, your father is going to be getting the same explanation from Director Renick today." She shook her head. "I suspect he's going to be much more upset than you were.
"Now, for the morning, since we were all up well into the pre-dawn hours, we're keeping the schedule clear," she explained. "Take it easy, rest, play, whatever. Trust me, your counselors will be doing the same, since we were up much later. After lunch, we'll go over the schedule for the remainder of the day."
- - - - - - - - - -
"Did you have to sit on them, Dennis?" Panacea asked. "Even at your reduced size, I still had to fix a lot of broken bones." Almost everyone was sitting in a common area in the dining hall.
"I didn't do that," Dennis retorted. "I barely put any weight on them, just enough to hold them down. They wouldn't stop struggling, even after being told several times to stop. I don't remember feeling any bones break while they were there."
"I think the broken hand was from the guy who tried to punch Armsmaster," Aegis said. "One of the side effects of Bastard Son's powers is diminished intelligence, according to what the PRT has on him."
Amy stared into space for a moment before saying, "Okay, those could have been self-inflicted stupidity."
"I hope the PRT drops him in a very deep hole and forgets about him," Taylor grumbled. "This is the third idiot that's tried to kill me."
"I believe your fight with Lung was you putting yourself between him and 'innocents'," Vista added. "Who was the third idiot?"
"Actually, in chronological order they were the first idiots, meaning Sophia and Emma," Taylor grumbled. "Followed by whoever shot at me with some rifles that are normally used for destroying armored trucks, and then this guy.
"Being a dragon is great and all," Taylor continued, "but it seems that there's a line of idiots wanting to try and slay the dragon." She slumped down in her comfy chair.
"Well," said Theresa as she walked into the area, "you'll be happy to know that by international agreement, dragons are considered a critically endangered species. And because of the incident with Naichi, they're also considered human in the US and Canada." She grinned fiercely. "So, not only does he get an attempted murder charge, he gets hit with massive fines and forfeiture of property because of that. Then the government really gets involved. If that idiot ends up with a cent left to his name, I'll be surprised.
"If it's any consolation, Taylor," Theresa continued, "I kind of know how you feel. I had a group of idiots who were after me all the time, trying to steal my stuff. They'd even managed to 'enchant' me, affecting my mind and creating blind spots. I'm so glad Saint and company are behind bars or in an asylum."
"And let's not forget what the BATF will have to say about Bastard Son having – and using – two anti-tank missiles," Ethan said from where he was juggling some rubber balls. "While officially it will be summed up as violations of Federal statutes, it could best be said that he's screwed." Assault expertly caught all five of the balls he was juggling. "What I don't get is why. The idiot ball he was carrying around was almost big enough to keep a guy from doing anything."
"That is a question we're looking to answer," Colin said as he walked in. "So far, even with Samira's help, it's not going well." He took a drink of the normal coffee he had. "Chris, Theresa and I will need your help with a project and evaluating another Tinker later today. "
Chris looked up from his tablet. "OK. Where and when?"
"After lunch," Colin answered, "and here in camp. We have also recovered your equipment, functioning and not. It is placed in a secure box at the men's cabin."
Chris shut down the tablet. "Looks like my morning is planned out then. Anything needed for the investigation?"
"We have already downloaded the video from the non-functional turrets," Colin answered, "so no. We have what we need. I need to get back to work as well." With that, he finished his cup of coffee and walked out of the room, placing the mug at the dirty dishes station as he left.
"So, Theresa," Taylor asked. "How did you deal with the stress Saint and the Dragonslayers caused you?"
"Normally, I'd talk with a friend," Theresa said after thinking a bit. "There were also a couple of times where I fired up a simulation and proceeded to destroy a virtual environment." She looked at Taylor. "Everyone deals with stress differently, Taylor. Find out what works for you."
"I, however, know the perfect cure for stress for you to try, Tay," Vicky announced. "Get whatever you need, we're going flying."
- - - - - - - - - -
"So, Emily," Mike Renick said, looking over at the currently suspended special operations director, "do you mind telling me what you were doing at the old boat landing in Vaughan Woods State Park last night?"
"I was swimming," Emily said. "Power-based needs and all that."
"I get that," Mike replied. "What about the fact that you were sitting next to three inflatable boats that had our perpetrators' fingerprints and other evidence all over them, and were watching the disturbance going on across the river while eating a pair of Fugly Bob's dragon burgers?"
"While I was swimming, I encountered a citizen who was concerned that three boats had been left unsecured on the far bank, and they thought the former occupants were up to something.
"Since I'm currently suspended, I did the only thing I could do, which was re-secure the boats – which I did with the citizen's help – and called both Dover 911 and the PRT's number, because Wards were clearly involved at some point." Emily stopped to take a drink from the cup of water she had at the table.
"I don't like playing games with the rules and regs, Mike," she said, leaning back in the chair. "I did what the rules said I could do and not jeopardize the investigation into my alleged misconduct, nor the operation to catch Bastard Son in the act so a felony arrest could be made."
"So noted," Renick stated. "Could we talk to your concerned citizen?"
"It's possible, but I have no easy way to contact him; he's kind of a hermit. I managed to get a picture with my phone that should explain things." She brought up an image, and sent it to Renick's tablet, with predictable results.
"Gaaaah! Who or what is that!?" he shouted in shock.
"That's Bitey," Emily calmly explained. "Known as Ol' Bitey in local folklore."
"I thought Ol' Bitey was supposed to be a big snapping turtle?"
"He's a relatively young dragon turtle I encountered while swimming last night; they tend to resemble southern alligator snapping turtles of… unusual size. He was more interested in pursuing a possible… romantic partner, but he did help me shift the boats back across the river and properly secure them at the boat landing. Which you have to admit, aided in the capture of Bastard Son and his minions, because it cut off a means of escape.
"And I don't need to remind you about his status as a person," she reminded him. "He was perfectly able to communicate in an intelligent fashion – even if it wasn't in English – and would be considered a citizen of the US because he was born here about forty years ago. Subsistence living, so he's tax exempt."
"Yes, I'm well aware of the mess the incident with Naichi has caused," Mike replied. "There are currently eleven challenges to that in front of Federal courts, none are expected to succeed." He tapped the screen on his tablet. "Of all the cases except hers, they're all mostly human – two arms, two legs, head, with skin instead of fur. Or at least enough skin to make things obvious. Some have lived in the US all their lives, some came over as immigrants. The most non-human group that's applied for citizenship is Tucker's group."
"Oh God, I can see the look on the judge's face now," Emily sniggered. "Still, they must have behaved themselves."
"They got Quinn Calle to represent them at their hearing," Mike admitted. "As much as I dislike the man professionally, he does get the job done."
"Could have been worse," Emily added, pacing her words for proper timing. "Could have been the bunch out of Concord. You know, Grabbe, Sacke, and Twiste?"
Mike's water exploded out of his cup in an epic spit take. "Must you, Emily? I'd expect this from Assault or Clockblocker."
"I've been reminded that I need to laugh a little more," Emily admitted, "by someone whose opinion I respect very much. Also a dragon thing, apparently, so it could be called a Power-based need. At least it wasn't Dewey, Beatham, and Howe out of Boston."
Mike Renick had been waiting for the punchline, and his only response was an almost impressive glare.
