"Ugh, what died here?" Kid Win asked, looking somewhat green.
"Don't ask," one of the troopers manning a hose stated.
"Yeah," Assault said from close by. "I did, they told me, and now I'm telling you, you don't want to know. Besides, there's a briefing in half an hour, so get your stuff back into the Ward's common area and get over to Conference Room One."
"You heard the man," Taylor grumbled.
It didn't take the Wards long before they were in The Rig's really big conference room, all seated in a small group. Various other Parahumans from around the city were present, most availing themselves of the provided coffee and donuts. Also of note were several military officers, along with Welshie, Arunta and a couple of the AIs that ran the other ships that Taylor wasn't familiar with.
Director Renick entered the room along with Director Piggot. "Thank you for coming, and apologies for the early hour. Last night we had an incursion of violent creatures in and around The Docks area and here on The Rig. These demi-human creatures have been termed goblins, hobgoblins, ogres and kuo-toa by our resident experts."
He paused to take a drink of coffee before continuing. "We currently have the leader of the group from the main incursion in custody, and he is scheduled to be interrogated by civilian specialists in the matter." He indicated the Aleshins, who were standing nearby. "We should have more information on what they were intending."
He took a look at his coffee cup and frowned as it was empty. "Anyway, the governor has called up the National Guard, specifically for Brockton Bay Colonel Jameson and Lt. Colonel Parker with their units in case things happen." He nodded to the more senior of the two.
"We're here to perform recon and defend from any incursion," Colonel Jameson explained. "My battalion will be deployed north of the city along US Highway 1. Colonel Parker will be deployed to the south. We have word that the Navy is moving some special assets into place, and the Air National Guard has been called up. We can expect CAP flights to begin later today."
Emily shook her head. "I hope this doesn't mean that Brockton Bay's going to be a war zone," she muttered.
"With all due respect, Major Piggot," Colonel Parker said, "many already consider Brockton Bay a war zone."
"So noted, Colonel," Emily replied. "And you're correct: Up until June of this year, it was a lot like Beirut or Belfast. Things have calmed down a lot, but there was something…"
"Kind of like a dark cloud hanging over things?" Tucker spoke up from where he sat to the left of Emily. "We've noticed for a while now. The feeling that something is watching, waiting for the right moment to do something." The large kobold shrugged. "It's been all over this place."
Kira spoke up. "It kind of grates on the edges of your nerves. It's the feeling you get when you know you're the target of the enemy, and it's only a matter of time before everything hits the fan."
Sonny Aleshin nodded. "I suspect that there are at least two forces trying to move into the area: The first is a rather stereotypical force of barbaric demihumans employed by a master who needs disposable minions capable of getting a job done if it's simple enough. I would expect the actual commander and any higher quality forces have yet to arrive.
"The second is a group of aquatic abominations, led by another, more powerful abomination," he continued. "The easiest way to counter them would be to find out where they're coming from and depth charge it into oblivion. We'd have to ask the Royal Navy destroyers if they have any sonar data from last night."
Armsmaster nodded. "Fortunately, we have representatives of their group with us."
"Yes," Welshie said, "we began running sensor sweeps when the unnatural fog first rose. I'll have a copy brought here."
"You can't just transmit it?" Director Rennick asked.
Welshie shook her head. "While we'll generate a data set your systems can handle, that will necessarily be an abbreviated version. There are some details I think you will want to see that are more obvious in the complete version."
"Not to mention it would take hours," Armsmaster added."Our network doesn't have the speed or bandwidth to handle the amount of data."
"Never underestimate the bandwidth of a truck full of thumbdrives," Assault quipped.
"Indeed," was Armsmaster's response.
Director Rennick looked at the Wards. "That's all we had for you," he said. "You're dismissed. There's breakfast available in the cafeteria, and we'll cart you over to school in a courtesy van with the usual precautions."
The briefing continued without the young parahumans.
- - - - - - - - - -
"God, that was boring," Missy uncharacteristically whined.
"But unfortunately necessary," Taylor answered. "We needed to know what happened last night, and what the response is going to be."
"The fact that the governor called up National Guard units for the state means that there have been happenings elsewhere," Dean added. "I also feel sorry for Carlos and Dennis, they're still in there."
"Not sorry," Takara added with a yawn. "Hero needs food, badly!"
Chris looked at her with a croggled gaze, one eyebrow arched. "Wasn't Gauntlet before your time?"
"Uh-uh," Takara answered. "A pizza place my dad owned had an old machine still working. It was fun to play." With that she hopped up to get some breakfast.
"Where's Dinah?" Chris asked, looking around.
"Probably had to answer some questions for Miss Militia," Taylor said as she sat down, a plate piled high with bacon and eggs, plus some toast on the side on her tray.
"Yeah, I did," came the answer as the resident spider girl made her way to the table reserved for the Wards. Her tray had a lot of steak, ham, bacon and eggs along with one of the protein shakes she normally drank. "Outlook for the city in the coming days is not good."
"Of course it isn't," Chris complained. "Even when it is, it isn't. This city doesn't do good, it does just barely functional."
Taylor's PRT phone played its incoming message jingle. Reading the message quickly, she grinned. "Well, a bit of good news, bad news. We have a meeting when we come in this afternoon, that's the bad news. Good news, at least for Chris, is we have some help for the Wards coming in from Department Six."
"Department Six?" Chris mused. "That's Phoenix. Who do they have who'd be coming here?" He fiddled with his phone, bringing up the roster of Wards there. "Probably not Coyote or Roadrunner. Those two do as much damage as the villains around there. There's Condor, Ox, Ephemeral, Thunderclap and Golem." There was a brief pause. "We're getting Golem back for a while?"
"Looks like," Taylor allowed. "We'll find out more after school."
= = = = = = = = = =
There is a section of countryside to the north of Brockton Bay that is often called "No Man's Land". While the coastline consists of a mix of rocky cliffs and areas of gradual slopes down to the water, most of it had been flooded when Leviathan had sunk Newfoundland. The resulting tsunami had easily topped the bluffs and inundated the land as far inland as Interstate 95 in some places where the highway ran close to the coast, killing nearly all the vegetation and depositing remains from farther north. Entire communities suffered in the aftermath, while some did not because of the surrounding geography.
The resulting strip of land was ten miles at its widest, and ran all the way to the border of Canada. A few survivalist types lived in the region, and some efforts were made to reclaim the towns and cities that had been affected, but for the most part it was a wasteland of wrecked buildings, salt marshes and dead vegetation. Nature was slowly reclaiming it, and that would take a long time.
There was an awful lot of land where a large group could hide, if they were careful.
Forty miles north of Brockton Bay was one such group, currently hiding in the ruins of a wrecked town, relying on illusions to keep their presence secret as they marched south along the shore.
They consisted of about a hundred men, some well equipped, others seemingly less so. They moved in an orderly disciplined fashion and would be considered soldiers, despite the medieval style equipment; plate armor and chainmail (camouflaged), shields, swords of various lengths, spears, bows and crossbows. They moved as quietly as men encumbered with heavy armor could.
It was when they stopped, having run out of cover to hide their movements, that they observed what had to be more soldiers in unfamiliar uniforms. They carried weapons that vaguely resembled flint and matchlock weapons, except much smaller and more complex. They rode in strange carts – probably Dwarvish or Gnomish contraptions – that could move themselves about without horses.
The captain in charge of this group pulled out his
Sending Stone. "My lord, we've been misled; the city has at least militia, armed with firearms," he whispered to the stone.
"Understood," came back the voice of his commander. "Pull back and have some of the scouts observe them."
- - - - - - - - - -
Miss Militia was waiting for the Wards when they arrived after school. "Gear up," she instructed, "then we'll talk." There were a few minutes of relative tranquility as everyone put costumes and armor on. "As you probably all know, Golem from Department Six is temporarily transferring in while his guardian takes care of legal matters in Concord. He'll be arriving tomorrow. Also, we've had violent encounters with groups of various demi-humans within the last twenty-four hours. Should you be confronted, take whatever means necessary to defend yourselves and withdraw, then call it in. Kid Win?"
"Yes Ma'am?" the Tinker answered.
"Your alternator cannon is cleared for field use," she stated.
"Yes, Ma'am!"
"Please remember your use of appropriate force classes. Only use lethal force if they escalate to it," she reminded all of them. "You do not want to deal with a hearing on the matter if it is decided that it was not needed. That results in charges, and possible time in the stockade. Are we clear?"
All the Wards nodded. "Yes Ma'am," they responded.
"Then I'll let you get on with your patrols," she said. "Also, we've had some rumors of some Case 53s or new Mythicals wandering about. Should you encounter one, be cautious, but friendly."
= = = = = = = = =
Brockton Bay was used to the strange and unusual. Natives would hardly spare a glance for some of the things that walked the streets these days. Therefore, anything that caused the residents of the city to stop and stare had to be really unusual. Just ask William Brown, operator of a hot dog vending cart on the Boardwalk.
Case in point: The strange creature floating along the boardwalk looking around. Ten eyes on stalks swiveled about, taking in everything around it, and one large eye opened on the same side as its mouth. Incogruously, it wore an oversized Boston Red Sox baseball cap on the top of its roughly spherical body, covering the area between the eye stalks. The corners of its toothy mouth were turned up in a grin, and it hummed off-key bits of tunes; some familiar, some not.
As he watched, the creature had noticed a lot of people had phones and cameras out and were taking pictures, but it wasn't paying too much attention to them, and was pretty much left alone beyond that. "Ah, it feels good to be back," he heard the creature say to itself, then catch the scent of something. "Mmm, hot dogs." It oriented on his cart and floated over to wait in line like any other customer.
"Can I help you?" Bill asked once it became the spherical customer's turn.
"I'd like three of your chili and cheese dogs, please." the creature pleasantly said.
"That'll be ten bucks," the vendor stated. He'd survived Glory Girl crashing through his cart and him, a six armed, half snake demon who frightened the bejeezus out of him but tipped well, and that chaotic situation involving a biker, a Karen and her spoiled rotten dog – he could survive this.
Just smile, be polite.
The creature floated a gold coin out of a pouch. "I hope this is enough," it said.
The coin in his hand was heavy, and he was able to leave an impression in it with his fingernail. It was probably pure gold, or close to it. "Yeah, it's enough," the hot dog vendor said. "I'd recommend you talk to the people at the Suisse Bank branch that opened recently in the financial district. They should be able to get you some local currency." While he talked, he put together three of the hot dogs, as ordered.
"Hey, thanks for the tip!" the creature cheerfully said. "If I overpaid, keep the change."
"Sure thing, sir. Have a good one."
"Thanks!" With that, the three hot dogs levitated off the cart, and the creature began eating one as it floated its way further down the Boardwalk.
- - - - - - - - - -
One by one, the creature popped the morsels into its maw, and disposed of the trash in a nearby receptacle. Years of living aboard an airship had taught him the discipline to keep things secured, lest they become projectiles or safety hazards to the ship.
"Hey, cool! It's an actual gold dragon!" he exclaimed.
The exclamation drew Naurelin's attention. "Console, Naurelin. We have a strange creature, possibly a Case 53 or Mythical, floating along the Boardwalk."
"Affirmative, Naurelin," the Protectorate console confirmed. "We've had reports of it all afternoon. It seems to be playing tourist, and has been paying absurd amounts of money for things."
"I copy, Console," she answered.
"Be polite and friendly. Subject has been friendly and law abiding so far, let's not give it a reason to change that."
"Naurelin, out." She turned her attention to the possible case fifty-three. "Good afternoon," she said pleasantly. "Can I help you with something?"
"Nah, just strange to see a gold dragon walking around my old home town," the creature said. "Place sure has changed since I was here last."
"Can I ask when that was?" Kid Win asked.
"Early nineties," he replied, because the voice was most definitely male. "I probably got declared dead after I got hit by a truck, then woke up somewhere else. Haven't checked; always a chance this isn't my original Earth. Anyway, I haven't seen a gold dragon since I had a chat with that old one in Sigil."
"You've been there?" Naurelin queried.
"A couple of times," the creature replied. "I'm the captain of a trading airship, and we've had an opportunity or two to deliver goods to the city and do some trading around the Ring. So, what's your name?"
"Naurelin," she replied, somewhat confused.
"I'm Dave. I'm a beholder, by the way, and not a Case 53," it continued. "Quite a shock when I woke up like this, but it beats being dead, I guess." A pocket watch floated out of a pouch and an eye stalk looked at it. "Cool to meet you guys, but I gotta get back to where my ship is waiting for me.
"Oh, and a word of caution," Dave continued. "Scuttlebutt around otherworldly ports has a lot of trouble – mean trouble – headed this way." It tipped to one side in the approximation of a shrug. "Could be anything, from Githyanki raiders to an Aboleth trying to get a foothold. Normally I'd say dragon attack, but considering you're the only other dragon I've seen in fifteen years… Hope to talk again sometime!" With that, the creature floated off, over the rooftops, in the direction of The Docks before disappearing from sight, but not before hearing final comments from the two Capes..
"What was that?" Kid Win asked.
"Whatever it was, it was friendly and polite," Naurelin answered. "I'll take a friendly beholder over violent neo-nazi thugs any day."
