I would be happy to beta a Google doc for you going forward. Feel free to hit me up on discord.
The Shadows of a Worm (Worm X Shadowrun 3ed)
- Thread starter Rajvik_wolfboy
- Start date
I would be happy to beta a Google doc for you going forward. Feel free to hit me up on discord.
Chapter 10
Rajvik_wolfboy
Wolf amongst the stars.
- Location
- Florida
Martina Riggs was not a favored daughter of Brockton Bay. She had moved to the city from her native Los Angeles for two reasons. First was that it was a near instant promotion from being a senior patrolman in the Internal Affairs office in the LAPD, to the rank of Detective-Sergeant in the Brockton Bay Police Department's Narcotics Unit. With the number of people employed by the Los Angeles Police Department, it was going to seem like it was taking forever to reach the rank of either of her well-known parents. (Her father's captaincy being a bit of a family joke as it was for insurance purposes at the time.) But by moving to Brockton Bay, she would be able to advance that quickly within a period of mere months as opposed to near decades.
The second reason was that she had personally been asked by one of her favorite heroes, Alexandria, to try for the position and take it if she passed. "They need someone who is familiar with IA from what I am told," the heroine had told her. "I would normally try and poach an up and comer like you for the PRT, but I wouldn't be able to dictate where you would be sent, and that town really needs the help."
Riggs had taken the Sergeants exam and passed, both the one for LA and Brockton and the chief of police in Brockton had been ecstatic when she called to ask if they had any open positions. "I won't lie to you Sergeant," the Chief had said over the phone. "There are some strings being pulled for you, however, your test results and your history in Internal Affairs put you so far above any of the other candidates we have for the position that it is ridiculous. I'm just sorry that we can't match what the LAPD would be willing to pay you." The upside was that living in the bay was relatively cheap, massively so compared to Los Angeles, so she would still be able to save up money for investment like Uncle Roger.
She had thanked him before telling him, "I won't say that I particularly like strings being pulled for me, I would prefer to do things on my own merit. However, if not for my mother calling in an old favor in IA I would not have had that experience."
"Well it is one that I'm going to count on you to use at your discretion," he told her. "There is too much graft going on in the department and I can't even trust my current head of Internal Affairs, so I would like you to pay attention to who does what in Narcotics, because I might have to call on you to testify at an inquiry one day."
"I understand sir," she told him and two weeks later she was checking into the Narcotics section of the Brockton Bay Police Department.
**
"We're on our way." Riggs said before hanging up the phone and looking around the Narcotics squad room. The only person in tonight besides her was Johnson, who had surprised her by also being the only "Clean" person so far in the squad.
That may have been the reason why he always ended up with the worst shifts along with her. There was a distinct "Go along to get along," mentality amongst the Narcotics squad that it sickened her. The first day she had been in the squad room one of the senior detectives looked at her and commented, "Look Riggs, there isn't a damn thing we can do about things around here, so why make waves? Better to get a little something on the side rather than a bullet in the head, and that's assuming one of the damn capes that lead the three main gangs in town doesn't simply target your family for elimination." Her counterargument had been that there was a certain level of effort expected of the police department which earned her a snort from various members of the squad. "We can't arrest the gang leaders, and even when the PRT picks them up, they tend to break out within a week." The senior detective had told her. "No, the people around here know the score, and they don't blame us for it, not really." With that she had been shuffled off and handed the shittiest shifts amongst the squad.
"Hey Johnson," she called out getting the man's attention, his dark-skinned face turning to face her. "Armor up and grab as many patrolmen you can find without going out over the radio, I'm headed for the cage and the on duty SWAT members." The black detective looked at her with a quirked eyebrow but nodded as she pulled her pistol and badge out of her desk drawer, clipping the former to her hip while throwing the latter around her neck on its chain. "Meet in the garage in five, we have a hot one." At that the man smiled and got up quickly while grabbing his own gun and badge.
About damn time we did something around here, he thought as he headed across the hall to robbery/homicide and the two detectives there that he knew was like him and Riggs, clean.
**
Five minutes later nine people stood with Riggs as she explained, "I just received a call about a Merchant stash house that the caller had already raided," she told them. "The Vigilante is willing to clear a path for us through the sentries that the Merchants have out but doesn't know how many bodies they have inside."
"Any count on Parahumans?" the SWAT trainer/adviser, a Lieutenant named Hondo asked.
"I'm supposing none as she called us instead of the PRT," she answered and received a nod in return. "It is, according to the source, also an opiate den, so there will be multiple junkies in the place as we are securing it."
"Why aren't we calling in everyone to deal with this?" one of the patrolmen asked.
"Because we don't want the Merchants to know we're coming, Officer Vasquez." Riggs answered. "Quite frankly, you and the other three regular officers are the only ones here that either I, Johnson or Hondo haven't cleared as not on someone's payroll."
"And how do you know the two of them aren't on someone's payroll?" another officer asked. "Or how the two of them know that you're not on someone's payroll for that matter."
"I knew Riggs in LA before I came here last year," Hondo answered, giving the officer a stare as did his sergeant, a man named Street. "I can vouch for her and Street."
"And I can vouch for Johnson," Riggs said, her tone showing her irritation. "That said, the plan is simple. You four will take the street for security, with Street on overwatch?" she half-asked while looking to Hondo who nodded. "The Lieutenant, myself and the others will enter the building and then secure the gang members inside before calling in for transport. Now, everyone hand over your cell phones."
The four officers were reluctant to hand over their cellphones, but they understood the why of it, and didn't complain when the phones were locked into one of the SWAT van's lockers, especially since the detectives did the same. That done the detectives climbed into the back of the two squad cars and the three vehicles pulled out to go clean up a drug den.
**
It had taken them twenty minutes to get here, but I smiled as I watched two squad cars and a SWAT truck turn the corner two blocks from the hydraulics factory and come another block closer before stopping. I moved to the fire escape that dropped into the alley near them and climbed down before stepping out of the alley with my hands raised and empty.
**
We were a block short of the building when a figure came out of an alley, hands high, and waving them slightly like they were trying to flag us down. "Pull over Mulvaney," I told the uniform who was driving. She nodded and pulled to a stop, the other two vehicles stopping with us. When I climbed out the figure called out, "Detective Riggs?"
"That's me," I answered, "You the person that called this in?"
"I am," the figure said, stepping out of the shadows and into the squad car's headlights. Obviously female, she was tall, high five, maybe even six foot tall, dark haired and wearing some sort of body armor under a duster style long coat. "Call me Owl. This all you brought?"
I shrugged, "All I could find with any reasonable expectation that they would be clean." I answered. "Are you expecting trouble?"
"Only if someone finds those seven unconscious," the young woman answered with a smile. "If we move with some speed, we should be able to have all of them bound by the time anyone comes too."
I nodded, "Alright," I called out, turning to face the other two vehicles. "Everyone unload here, we'll go in just like we planned. Is there…" Turning back to ask another question of "Owl" I was surprised to find her gone, as if she had never existed. "Where the hell did she go?"
"I don't know, detective," Mulvaney said looking around. I looked away for a minute to pull the trunk release, and she was gone. Do you think this is a trap?"
"I don't think so," I said shaking my head after a moment. "But let's be careful just the same."
**
"And what did you find when you entered the stash house detective?" the Chief of Police for Brockton Bay asked as the station Captain looked on seething.
"Seven gang members wrapped in plastic wrap with one of them labeled as a potential parahuman, sir" I answered. "In the parts area there was a large amount of narcotics and opiates and there were about twenty or so addicts on the main floor of the factory, Most of the addicts were passed out, though there were two that were DOA from overdoses."
The Chief nodded, "Exactly the sort of work I was expecting when I hired you detective Riggs," he said smiling. "What about the money that should have been there?"
"I'm assuming our informant removed it when she raided the stash house first," I answered.
"Wouldn't that be tampering with evidence?" the Captain asked growling.
"Don?" the Chief asked, looking at the department's legal representative.
"It's kind of a grey area actually," the lawyer, a weedy looking man with wire-rimmed glasses replied. "Ostensibly, the vigilante laws that were passed are only supposed to apply to Parahuman vigilantes. That said, there is precedence out of Detroit where a neighborhood watch group became, shall we say, a little proactive by raiding and destroying a group of crack houses in their area. When the local ADA tried to bring charges the judge literally laughed him out of the courtroom."
"That is a bad precedence to make," the Captain grumbled.
The Department attorney shrugged, "I would say that it would be up to the DA to decide whether or not to prosecute in this case,' he responded facing the Captain. "But I wouldn't want to try and prosecute the young woman." The captain could only grumble under his breath as the Chief shook my hand and sent me out of the room with a comment about cultivating informants and seeing to my team. I couldn't help but smile as the voices got louder once the door closed behind me.
The second reason was that she had personally been asked by one of her favorite heroes, Alexandria, to try for the position and take it if she passed. "They need someone who is familiar with IA from what I am told," the heroine had told her. "I would normally try and poach an up and comer like you for the PRT, but I wouldn't be able to dictate where you would be sent, and that town really needs the help."
Riggs had taken the Sergeants exam and passed, both the one for LA and Brockton and the chief of police in Brockton had been ecstatic when she called to ask if they had any open positions. "I won't lie to you Sergeant," the Chief had said over the phone. "There are some strings being pulled for you, however, your test results and your history in Internal Affairs put you so far above any of the other candidates we have for the position that it is ridiculous. I'm just sorry that we can't match what the LAPD would be willing to pay you." The upside was that living in the bay was relatively cheap, massively so compared to Los Angeles, so she would still be able to save up money for investment like Uncle Roger.
She had thanked him before telling him, "I won't say that I particularly like strings being pulled for me, I would prefer to do things on my own merit. However, if not for my mother calling in an old favor in IA I would not have had that experience."
"Well it is one that I'm going to count on you to use at your discretion," he told her. "There is too much graft going on in the department and I can't even trust my current head of Internal Affairs, so I would like you to pay attention to who does what in Narcotics, because I might have to call on you to testify at an inquiry one day."
"I understand sir," she told him and two weeks later she was checking into the Narcotics section of the Brockton Bay Police Department.
**
"We're on our way." Riggs said before hanging up the phone and looking around the Narcotics squad room. The only person in tonight besides her was Johnson, who had surprised her by also being the only "Clean" person so far in the squad.
That may have been the reason why he always ended up with the worst shifts along with her. There was a distinct "Go along to get along," mentality amongst the Narcotics squad that it sickened her. The first day she had been in the squad room one of the senior detectives looked at her and commented, "Look Riggs, there isn't a damn thing we can do about things around here, so why make waves? Better to get a little something on the side rather than a bullet in the head, and that's assuming one of the damn capes that lead the three main gangs in town doesn't simply target your family for elimination." Her counterargument had been that there was a certain level of effort expected of the police department which earned her a snort from various members of the squad. "We can't arrest the gang leaders, and even when the PRT picks them up, they tend to break out within a week." The senior detective had told her. "No, the people around here know the score, and they don't blame us for it, not really." With that she had been shuffled off and handed the shittiest shifts amongst the squad.
"Hey Johnson," she called out getting the man's attention, his dark-skinned face turning to face her. "Armor up and grab as many patrolmen you can find without going out over the radio, I'm headed for the cage and the on duty SWAT members." The black detective looked at her with a quirked eyebrow but nodded as she pulled her pistol and badge out of her desk drawer, clipping the former to her hip while throwing the latter around her neck on its chain. "Meet in the garage in five, we have a hot one." At that the man smiled and got up quickly while grabbing his own gun and badge.
About damn time we did something around here, he thought as he headed across the hall to robbery/homicide and the two detectives there that he knew was like him and Riggs, clean.
**
Five minutes later nine people stood with Riggs as she explained, "I just received a call about a Merchant stash house that the caller had already raided," she told them. "The Vigilante is willing to clear a path for us through the sentries that the Merchants have out but doesn't know how many bodies they have inside."
"Any count on Parahumans?" the SWAT trainer/adviser, a Lieutenant named Hondo asked.
"I'm supposing none as she called us instead of the PRT," she answered and received a nod in return. "It is, according to the source, also an opiate den, so there will be multiple junkies in the place as we are securing it."
"Why aren't we calling in everyone to deal with this?" one of the patrolmen asked.
"Because we don't want the Merchants to know we're coming, Officer Vasquez." Riggs answered. "Quite frankly, you and the other three regular officers are the only ones here that either I, Johnson or Hondo haven't cleared as not on someone's payroll."
"And how do you know the two of them aren't on someone's payroll?" another officer asked. "Or how the two of them know that you're not on someone's payroll for that matter."
"I knew Riggs in LA before I came here last year," Hondo answered, giving the officer a stare as did his sergeant, a man named Street. "I can vouch for her and Street."
"And I can vouch for Johnson," Riggs said, her tone showing her irritation. "That said, the plan is simple. You four will take the street for security, with Street on overwatch?" she half-asked while looking to Hondo who nodded. "The Lieutenant, myself and the others will enter the building and then secure the gang members inside before calling in for transport. Now, everyone hand over your cell phones."
The four officers were reluctant to hand over their cellphones, but they understood the why of it, and didn't complain when the phones were locked into one of the SWAT van's lockers, especially since the detectives did the same. That done the detectives climbed into the back of the two squad cars and the three vehicles pulled out to go clean up a drug den.
**
It had taken them twenty minutes to get here, but I smiled as I watched two squad cars and a SWAT truck turn the corner two blocks from the hydraulics factory and come another block closer before stopping. I moved to the fire escape that dropped into the alley near them and climbed down before stepping out of the alley with my hands raised and empty.
**
We were a block short of the building when a figure came out of an alley, hands high, and waving them slightly like they were trying to flag us down. "Pull over Mulvaney," I told the uniform who was driving. She nodded and pulled to a stop, the other two vehicles stopping with us. When I climbed out the figure called out, "Detective Riggs?"
"That's me," I answered, "You the person that called this in?"
"I am," the figure said, stepping out of the shadows and into the squad car's headlights. Obviously female, she was tall, high five, maybe even six foot tall, dark haired and wearing some sort of body armor under a duster style long coat. "Call me Owl. This all you brought?"
I shrugged, "All I could find with any reasonable expectation that they would be clean." I answered. "Are you expecting trouble?"
"Only if someone finds those seven unconscious," the young woman answered with a smile. "If we move with some speed, we should be able to have all of them bound by the time anyone comes too."
I nodded, "Alright," I called out, turning to face the other two vehicles. "Everyone unload here, we'll go in just like we planned. Is there…" Turning back to ask another question of "Owl" I was surprised to find her gone, as if she had never existed. "Where the hell did she go?"
"I don't know, detective," Mulvaney said looking around. I looked away for a minute to pull the trunk release, and she was gone. Do you think this is a trap?"
"I don't think so," I said shaking my head after a moment. "But let's be careful just the same."
**
"And what did you find when you entered the stash house detective?" the Chief of Police for Brockton Bay asked as the station Captain looked on seething.
"Seven gang members wrapped in plastic wrap with one of them labeled as a potential parahuman, sir" I answered. "In the parts area there was a large amount of narcotics and opiates and there were about twenty or so addicts on the main floor of the factory, Most of the addicts were passed out, though there were two that were DOA from overdoses."
The Chief nodded, "Exactly the sort of work I was expecting when I hired you detective Riggs," he said smiling. "What about the money that should have been there?"
"I'm assuming our informant removed it when she raided the stash house first," I answered.
"Wouldn't that be tampering with evidence?" the Captain asked growling.
"Don?" the Chief asked, looking at the department's legal representative.
"It's kind of a grey area actually," the lawyer, a weedy looking man with wire-rimmed glasses replied. "Ostensibly, the vigilante laws that were passed are only supposed to apply to Parahuman vigilantes. That said, there is precedence out of Detroit where a neighborhood watch group became, shall we say, a little proactive by raiding and destroying a group of crack houses in their area. When the local ADA tried to bring charges the judge literally laughed him out of the courtroom."
"That is a bad precedence to make," the Captain grumbled.
The Department attorney shrugged, "I would say that it would be up to the DA to decide whether or not to prosecute in this case,' he responded facing the Captain. "But I wouldn't want to try and prosecute the young woman." The captain could only grumble under his breath as the Chief shook my hand and sent me out of the room with a comment about cultivating informants and seeing to my team. I couldn't help but smile as the voices got louder once the door closed behind me.
LostArchivist
Sane, unfortunately.
- Location
- The State of Confusion
This was great. An actual honest group of police were sent in for this one, and probably just nabbed a good amount of the Merchants' leadership too. I bet the villains are going to find that the revolving door has been temporarily closed...
Or if they manage to get out anyway it'll spark that IA investigation. Win-win.
Or if they manage to get out anyway it'll spark that IA investigation. Win-win.
Note, they never commented on the possibility of the informant (a body armor wearing one) possibly being a parahuman. Especially after taking out so many Merchants.
- Location
- Estonia
Remember, from the least chapter:
Of course not. There's no evidence of parahuman powers, thus, no reasonable suspicion of parahumans, thus no need to call the PRT.
No need at all for the PRT to take over jurisdiction.
Period.
Got it, rookie?
Chapter 11
Rajvik_wolfboy
Wolf amongst the stars.
- Location
- Florida
I was surprised to find dad fixing a pot of coffee as I slipped in through the back door. "Is meeting like this, at this hour going to become a common thing?" he asked as he turned around and leaned against the counter in front of the sink.
Glancing at the clock I winced, "Honestly I expected to be back hours ago," I told him as I set the bags of money down next to the opposite counter. "One thing I knew would be needed though was money, and before you say anything dad, I know that you are the parent here, but what I'm talking about, we could not have afforded." He had opened his mouth to make just that argument but closed it before waving for me to continue. "There is one group of people in this city that it is legal for me to steal from, the criminals and their criminal enterprises. Did you know that the Merchants had turned the old Johnson Hydraulics building into a drug den and stash house?" I asked him.
He sighed and hung his head, "Pretty much everyone in the docks knows where the Merchants hide their stashes," Dad said, hanging his head. "It's a part of how they do business. The problem isn't finding the drugs, or the criminals for that matter, it's a question of who you are willing to cross. Crossing Skidmark like that isn't that big a deal, especially if they cannot identify who did it. Kaiser or Lung on the other hand, cross them and they're likely to try and hunt you down, and they will go after your family if they think they can get away with it."
I nodded to that, "Even the cops can't identify me right now," I said, crossing the kitchen in two steps to wrap my arms around him. "Hell, half the reason I am so late is that I stuck around to make sure everything went smoothly when they took the drugs and druggies into custody."
"How do you know the police can't identify you?" dad asked, and I smiled before going back over to the bags and pulling out the ballistic mask that I had worn.
"Pretty hard to ID someone that's wearing one of these," I said. "And between that and the armor, they could tell I was female, with long dark hair, that is about it."
"And how did you call the police," he asked, "and why the police and not the PRT?"
"Used the cell phone off of one of the street dealers after I made him tell me where the stash house was," I answered. "As for who to call, if there was more than one Parahuman in there I would be surprised, and the one I thought might be I tagged as such so that they could call the PRT, which they did." Dad grimaced but nodded to that. "I even talked to the lead detective after they did and got her personal contact information."
"So now you have a contact in the Bay PD?" dad asked, and I waggled my hand in a so-so gesture.
"Sorta," I answered. "Right now, it is more someone I can call and trust that there is a high likelihood that I will be listened to and not lectured about how I really should join the Protectorate."
Dad sighed, "Are you planning on making a habit of this?" he asked.
"Oh no," I answered, shaking my head. "As much as I would like to rip all the crime right out of the bay, one of the things I understand is that crime is going to be there no matter what we do. You cannot stop it, you can only punish it, and through that regulate it to some degree, and not even much there."
"That sounds pretty defeatist coming from you, baby," Dad said as he started to fix himself a cup of coffee. "I like to believe that if we just give law enforcement enough time and money, they will get the job done."
I shook my head at that. "Dad," I said, "Law enforcement is a business, same as any other, and the same as most crime, and if they managed to stop all the crime, they would be out of a job. What they do is keep just enough of the worst crimes pushed down in the right areas, so that when they make a big bust, and get their names in the papers, it seems like a real accomplishment to the man on the street."
"That's a little," Dad started and then paused as if searching for the correct word.
"Pessimistic? Dark? Negative?" I suggested.
"Cynical," he finished, and I shrugged.
"You pay for protection one way or another," I countered as I turned around and pulled another mug from the cabinet. "And with a decent organized crime group, you actually get protection from the various groups instead of just not being allowed to be targeted by the local gang." He lifted an eyebrow at me in question as I poured half a cup in my mug before adding some milk and sugar. "Look at it this way, you pay your taxes, which provides for the pay and equipment of the police, but how often do we see patrol cars roll through this neighborhood?" I asked and his face became thoughtful. "Rarely, and usually only if something other than the gangs are occurring right?" He sighed and nodded, lifting his mug in salute of the point. "Compare that to the number of squad cars that surround downtown, plus they have the Protectorate and PRT there to handle the gangs and what do we have out here?"
"Nothing," he answered with a sigh. "I see your point, which is why I occasionally miss Marquis being around. Yeah, there were still sections of downtown that you didn't go after dark if you weren't white, but they were less than they are now. Add to that, the Merchants weren't a thing, and the crime levels weren't as in your face." He sighed again, "Were things that bad in that other universe?"
"Eh," I said before going over to the table with one of the money bags. Sitting down I started pulling wads and stacks of cash out of the bag to count it. "To a degree they were at least a good bit more honest about it," I finally answered as I started counting the money. "There at least you knew the police were a business considering you were either dealing with Lone Star Security, or the Knight Errant division of Ares Macrotechnology."
"Jesus Taylor," I heard dad mumble before drinking from his mug. "Well, what do you have planned for today?
"First I'm going to count this and then I'll get some sleep. Later on I'll go shopping for some clothes and other things," I answered honestly. "I'll probably cook something for dinner when I get back. What do you think about chicken and rice with peas?"
"Sounds good," Dad answered with a smile before looking up at the clock. "I need to get a shower and get to work, anything I need to know before I leave?"
"Invite Uncle Kurt and Aunt Lacey over for dinner Saturday," I told him. "I'm going to do oven cooked, barbeque ribs and fresh potato salad."
"Oven barbeque is sacrilege," dad countered as he headed for the stairs.
"Well unless you feel like pulling the grill out and barbequing in the snow," I told him, "then we're going to have oven barbeque, unless you can think of something better."
"I'll think on it and we can talk about it tonight," he replied as he walked up the stairs and I returned to counting the money.
**
Emily Piggot looked at the three adult women who had been waiting for her in the conference room and suppressed a glare. It took all that she could do not to start ripping into them as soon as she walked into the room. Jennifer Hess, Sophia's mother, stood there, looking at the clock and probably wondering if this was going to make her late for her job. Agatha Hathaway, the Youth Guard representative, was her normal snooty self, and already tapping her foot in impatience. The last person was Margaret Blankenship, Sophia's handler and PRT Supervisor at Winslow, and the person in the deepest shit in this case outside Sophia herself, was casting worried glances at Sophia's mother. "Ladies," Emily said, taking a seat at one end of the table and settling the file in her hands, "we have a problem, and I am hoping that between the four of us can come up with a solution."
"What does this problem have to do with the Youth Guard," Hathaway asked, a look of disgust on her face as she sat down to Emily's left.
"What did Sophia do now?" the girl's mother asked as she sat down with a sigh across the table from Emily before looking over at Blankenship.
"Um," The final woman said, taking her seat to Emily's right. "As far as I know there isn't anything that Sophia has done to end up in trouble. Is there a problem, director?"
Emily smirked, "Is there a problem she asks," the director said before opening the folder in front of her and passing the photographs inside to the PRT Agent, the emails to the Youth Guard and the text messages to Sophia's mother. "Yes, I do believe you can say that there is a problem," the director growled. "This!" she continued poking her finger into the stack of photos, "is a direct result of your negligence in policing your charge and making sure the girl was toeing the line like she was supposed to be, as well as a discipline problem caused by your asinine rules," she finished, turning to the Youth Guard Rep.
"Apparently," the director continued after a moment. "Sophia has, for the last eighteen months, been systematically torturing a young lady to the point that she triggered. She is not the only one involved in this, and all of them will be tried, to the best of the state attorney's ability, as adults, and sentenced as the same unless they manage to make some sort of deal. Sophia does not get that option as I am cancelling her plea agreement citing cause due to violation of her probation. No matter what happens, Sophia is going to Juvenile Detention and maybe that will knock some of the stupid arrogance out of the girl.
"Now see here director," Hathaway argued as she put the stack of email screen shots down. "That's unfairly harsh as we only have the accuser's side of things, doesn't Sophia get a chance to defend herself?"
"Miss Hathaway," Emily said, giving the other woman a glare that used to silence green recruits cold. "If I did not have the evidence that I have, I would consider listening to Sophia's side of things. If Sophia had not been forced on me by your group's politicking, I might be more lenient, neither of those things are the case however, and this is not just the accuser's account, but also that of one of her co-conspirators who handed over the evidence without having to even be asked as well as the contents of Sophia's own phone."
Sophia's mother sighed before hanging her head. "I want to hear Sophia explain this if you don't mind," the woman said wearily. "Can she be brought in here so she can answer my questions?"
"I figured you might ask for that," Emily said giving the woman on her left a nod. Reaching over from her chair to the intercom that was mounted at the head of the table. Pushing a button she calmly said, "Bring in Shadow Stalker," before releasing it.
"Yes ma'am," another voice answered and a couple of minutes later Sophia Hess was brought into the room by a pair of troopers and sat next to her mother.
The teen glared around the room including at her mother who met that gaze with one of disappointment and despair. "Sophia," Jennifer Hess said hesitantly, "Explain to us what has happened and why."
"I don't know what you are talking about," the teen said, crossing her arms and looking around the room with a sneer. "What do you want from me, or maybe I should ask what you are accusing me of?"
That caused Piggot's eyebrows to rise, "Sophia," the director said evenly. "Currently you are accused of tormenting and torturing one of your classmates and specifically locking them in a locker filled with bio-waste and refuse."
"And do you have evidence of my participation in such an act," the teen asked coldly.
The Director smiled coldly, "I do," she answered. "But your mother wishes to hear your side of things and Miss Hathaway feels like I am only listening to the complainant's side of the issue. As such, and against my better judgement, I am going to allow you to say your peace, without the chance of it being used against you at any possible trial. There are no recording devices in this room, so you may speak without any fear. Whatever happens, you will at least, not be a member of the East-Northeast Wards as of later this morning. Whether that means Juvenile Detention or reassignment to another branch remains to be seen."
"I see," Sophia said with a nod. "Well let me explain to you the, cesspit you put me in when you left me in Winslow High School. It is a school that the gang members wear their colors openly, where drug deals are done in corners of the hallways and the locker rooms, and it is a school where the administration is so corrupt, that it is obvious that someone has been skimming the funds that are supposed to go to the upkeep and security of the school. There are no security guards, the metal detectors are broken, and if any of the smoke detectors or fire suppression systems work, I would honestly be surprised."
"What does any of that have to do with you torturing a girl Sophia," Jennifer Hess growled at her daughter, a daughter who just smirked in response.
"She was too weak to survive," Sophia said, her smirk turning into a sneer as she said it and looked at Piggot. "Much like this city, and especially this command, too weak to survive, too damn weak to do what needs to be done and take the fight to the enemy. To hunt people like the ABB and Empire down where they live and put an end to them instead of coddling them and the so-called heroes who are supposed to stop them."
Emily blinked at the teen in front of her and thought, This girl has lost her ever-loving mind! before clearing her throat. "And you felt that it was your job to what, toughen her up?"
Sophia snorted, "Hell no," the teen laughed out. "Emma wanted her to prove how tough she was, told me that Taylor was the strongest person she knew and that since her mother's death didn't crack her that she could take anything we threw at her and dish it back just as well. Emma was disappointed when Hebert turned out to be just another sheep that couldn't and wouldn't fight back. From my first look at the girl I could see that she was nothing but a worm though, not worth the time it would take to build her up."
"I think that's enough," Emily said, raising one of her hands. "Trooper, take miss Hess back to her cell."
"What the fuck do you mean take me back to my cell Piggy?" Sophia snarled at the director as the trooper stepped over and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Take your hand off me, you asshat." She bit out at the trooper before turning back to Piggot. "You need me out there, keeping your precious little darlings safe from ending up in Lung's brothels or Hookwolf's fighting ring. I am that hero that while you may not want me, you do need me to keep the thugs and racists in check."
"No, I do not," Emily Piggot said in a flat tone. "And while nothing you have said in here can be used at a trial against you, do not think for one damn second that I'm going to have you out on that street, on my streets where you can cause a damn gang war, a race war, or just piss off the wrong parahuman to the point that they throw the rules out the damn window and start coming after MY Wards." By the end of her sentence the director was seething at the teen. "Get her out of my sight!" she snapped at the trooper.
Sophia, in comparison, looked at the adults in the room in shock as the Director gave her order to the trooper. "And you are all going to just allow this?" she asked, shock apparent in her tone.
Her mother gave her an embarrassed look, "Sophia," she said, catching the teen's attention. "Baby girl, you need help, and I hope that the court can see that and get you it. It is apparent that I have failed you as a mother, and that rips my heart, but maybe with some help you can come back to us." The scream that Sophia Hess let out as she was pulled from the conference room would have made a wounded Jaguar proud at both its rage and its volume.
Once the door closed behind the teen and the trooper, Emily looked at the three other women and asked a simple question, "Suggestions?"
**
Glancing at the clock I winced, "Honestly I expected to be back hours ago," I told him as I set the bags of money down next to the opposite counter. "One thing I knew would be needed though was money, and before you say anything dad, I know that you are the parent here, but what I'm talking about, we could not have afforded." He had opened his mouth to make just that argument but closed it before waving for me to continue. "There is one group of people in this city that it is legal for me to steal from, the criminals and their criminal enterprises. Did you know that the Merchants had turned the old Johnson Hydraulics building into a drug den and stash house?" I asked him.
He sighed and hung his head, "Pretty much everyone in the docks knows where the Merchants hide their stashes," Dad said, hanging his head. "It's a part of how they do business. The problem isn't finding the drugs, or the criminals for that matter, it's a question of who you are willing to cross. Crossing Skidmark like that isn't that big a deal, especially if they cannot identify who did it. Kaiser or Lung on the other hand, cross them and they're likely to try and hunt you down, and they will go after your family if they think they can get away with it."
I nodded to that, "Even the cops can't identify me right now," I said, crossing the kitchen in two steps to wrap my arms around him. "Hell, half the reason I am so late is that I stuck around to make sure everything went smoothly when they took the drugs and druggies into custody."
"How do you know the police can't identify you?" dad asked, and I smiled before going back over to the bags and pulling out the ballistic mask that I had worn.
"Pretty hard to ID someone that's wearing one of these," I said. "And between that and the armor, they could tell I was female, with long dark hair, that is about it."
"And how did you call the police," he asked, "and why the police and not the PRT?"
"Used the cell phone off of one of the street dealers after I made him tell me where the stash house was," I answered. "As for who to call, if there was more than one Parahuman in there I would be surprised, and the one I thought might be I tagged as such so that they could call the PRT, which they did." Dad grimaced but nodded to that. "I even talked to the lead detective after they did and got her personal contact information."
"So now you have a contact in the Bay PD?" dad asked, and I waggled my hand in a so-so gesture.
"Sorta," I answered. "Right now, it is more someone I can call and trust that there is a high likelihood that I will be listened to and not lectured about how I really should join the Protectorate."
Dad sighed, "Are you planning on making a habit of this?" he asked.
"Oh no," I answered, shaking my head. "As much as I would like to rip all the crime right out of the bay, one of the things I understand is that crime is going to be there no matter what we do. You cannot stop it, you can only punish it, and through that regulate it to some degree, and not even much there."
"That sounds pretty defeatist coming from you, baby," Dad said as he started to fix himself a cup of coffee. "I like to believe that if we just give law enforcement enough time and money, they will get the job done."
I shook my head at that. "Dad," I said, "Law enforcement is a business, same as any other, and the same as most crime, and if they managed to stop all the crime, they would be out of a job. What they do is keep just enough of the worst crimes pushed down in the right areas, so that when they make a big bust, and get their names in the papers, it seems like a real accomplishment to the man on the street."
"That's a little," Dad started and then paused as if searching for the correct word.
"Pessimistic? Dark? Negative?" I suggested.
"Cynical," he finished, and I shrugged.
"You pay for protection one way or another," I countered as I turned around and pulled another mug from the cabinet. "And with a decent organized crime group, you actually get protection from the various groups instead of just not being allowed to be targeted by the local gang." He lifted an eyebrow at me in question as I poured half a cup in my mug before adding some milk and sugar. "Look at it this way, you pay your taxes, which provides for the pay and equipment of the police, but how often do we see patrol cars roll through this neighborhood?" I asked and his face became thoughtful. "Rarely, and usually only if something other than the gangs are occurring right?" He sighed and nodded, lifting his mug in salute of the point. "Compare that to the number of squad cars that surround downtown, plus they have the Protectorate and PRT there to handle the gangs and what do we have out here?"
"Nothing," he answered with a sigh. "I see your point, which is why I occasionally miss Marquis being around. Yeah, there were still sections of downtown that you didn't go after dark if you weren't white, but they were less than they are now. Add to that, the Merchants weren't a thing, and the crime levels weren't as in your face." He sighed again, "Were things that bad in that other universe?"
"Eh," I said before going over to the table with one of the money bags. Sitting down I started pulling wads and stacks of cash out of the bag to count it. "To a degree they were at least a good bit more honest about it," I finally answered as I started counting the money. "There at least you knew the police were a business considering you were either dealing with Lone Star Security, or the Knight Errant division of Ares Macrotechnology."
"Jesus Taylor," I heard dad mumble before drinking from his mug. "Well, what do you have planned for today?
"First I'm going to count this and then I'll get some sleep. Later on I'll go shopping for some clothes and other things," I answered honestly. "I'll probably cook something for dinner when I get back. What do you think about chicken and rice with peas?"
"Sounds good," Dad answered with a smile before looking up at the clock. "I need to get a shower and get to work, anything I need to know before I leave?"
"Invite Uncle Kurt and Aunt Lacey over for dinner Saturday," I told him. "I'm going to do oven cooked, barbeque ribs and fresh potato salad."
"Oven barbeque is sacrilege," dad countered as he headed for the stairs.
"Well unless you feel like pulling the grill out and barbequing in the snow," I told him, "then we're going to have oven barbeque, unless you can think of something better."
"I'll think on it and we can talk about it tonight," he replied as he walked up the stairs and I returned to counting the money.
**
Emily Piggot looked at the three adult women who had been waiting for her in the conference room and suppressed a glare. It took all that she could do not to start ripping into them as soon as she walked into the room. Jennifer Hess, Sophia's mother, stood there, looking at the clock and probably wondering if this was going to make her late for her job. Agatha Hathaway, the Youth Guard representative, was her normal snooty self, and already tapping her foot in impatience. The last person was Margaret Blankenship, Sophia's handler and PRT Supervisor at Winslow, and the person in the deepest shit in this case outside Sophia herself, was casting worried glances at Sophia's mother. "Ladies," Emily said, taking a seat at one end of the table and settling the file in her hands, "we have a problem, and I am hoping that between the four of us can come up with a solution."
"What does this problem have to do with the Youth Guard," Hathaway asked, a look of disgust on her face as she sat down to Emily's left.
"What did Sophia do now?" the girl's mother asked as she sat down with a sigh across the table from Emily before looking over at Blankenship.
"Um," The final woman said, taking her seat to Emily's right. "As far as I know there isn't anything that Sophia has done to end up in trouble. Is there a problem, director?"
Emily smirked, "Is there a problem she asks," the director said before opening the folder in front of her and passing the photographs inside to the PRT Agent, the emails to the Youth Guard and the text messages to Sophia's mother. "Yes, I do believe you can say that there is a problem," the director growled. "This!" she continued poking her finger into the stack of photos, "is a direct result of your negligence in policing your charge and making sure the girl was toeing the line like she was supposed to be, as well as a discipline problem caused by your asinine rules," she finished, turning to the Youth Guard Rep.
"Apparently," the director continued after a moment. "Sophia has, for the last eighteen months, been systematically torturing a young lady to the point that she triggered. She is not the only one involved in this, and all of them will be tried, to the best of the state attorney's ability, as adults, and sentenced as the same unless they manage to make some sort of deal. Sophia does not get that option as I am cancelling her plea agreement citing cause due to violation of her probation. No matter what happens, Sophia is going to Juvenile Detention and maybe that will knock some of the stupid arrogance out of the girl.
"Now see here director," Hathaway argued as she put the stack of email screen shots down. "That's unfairly harsh as we only have the accuser's side of things, doesn't Sophia get a chance to defend herself?"
"Miss Hathaway," Emily said, giving the other woman a glare that used to silence green recruits cold. "If I did not have the evidence that I have, I would consider listening to Sophia's side of things. If Sophia had not been forced on me by your group's politicking, I might be more lenient, neither of those things are the case however, and this is not just the accuser's account, but also that of one of her co-conspirators who handed over the evidence without having to even be asked as well as the contents of Sophia's own phone."
Sophia's mother sighed before hanging her head. "I want to hear Sophia explain this if you don't mind," the woman said wearily. "Can she be brought in here so she can answer my questions?"
"I figured you might ask for that," Emily said giving the woman on her left a nod. Reaching over from her chair to the intercom that was mounted at the head of the table. Pushing a button she calmly said, "Bring in Shadow Stalker," before releasing it.
"Yes ma'am," another voice answered and a couple of minutes later Sophia Hess was brought into the room by a pair of troopers and sat next to her mother.
The teen glared around the room including at her mother who met that gaze with one of disappointment and despair. "Sophia," Jennifer Hess said hesitantly, "Explain to us what has happened and why."
"I don't know what you are talking about," the teen said, crossing her arms and looking around the room with a sneer. "What do you want from me, or maybe I should ask what you are accusing me of?"
That caused Piggot's eyebrows to rise, "Sophia," the director said evenly. "Currently you are accused of tormenting and torturing one of your classmates and specifically locking them in a locker filled with bio-waste and refuse."
"And do you have evidence of my participation in such an act," the teen asked coldly.
The Director smiled coldly, "I do," she answered. "But your mother wishes to hear your side of things and Miss Hathaway feels like I am only listening to the complainant's side of the issue. As such, and against my better judgement, I am going to allow you to say your peace, without the chance of it being used against you at any possible trial. There are no recording devices in this room, so you may speak without any fear. Whatever happens, you will at least, not be a member of the East-Northeast Wards as of later this morning. Whether that means Juvenile Detention or reassignment to another branch remains to be seen."
"I see," Sophia said with a nod. "Well let me explain to you the, cesspit you put me in when you left me in Winslow High School. It is a school that the gang members wear their colors openly, where drug deals are done in corners of the hallways and the locker rooms, and it is a school where the administration is so corrupt, that it is obvious that someone has been skimming the funds that are supposed to go to the upkeep and security of the school. There are no security guards, the metal detectors are broken, and if any of the smoke detectors or fire suppression systems work, I would honestly be surprised."
"What does any of that have to do with you torturing a girl Sophia," Jennifer Hess growled at her daughter, a daughter who just smirked in response.
"She was too weak to survive," Sophia said, her smirk turning into a sneer as she said it and looked at Piggot. "Much like this city, and especially this command, too weak to survive, too damn weak to do what needs to be done and take the fight to the enemy. To hunt people like the ABB and Empire down where they live and put an end to them instead of coddling them and the so-called heroes who are supposed to stop them."
Emily blinked at the teen in front of her and thought, This girl has lost her ever-loving mind! before clearing her throat. "And you felt that it was your job to what, toughen her up?"
Sophia snorted, "Hell no," the teen laughed out. "Emma wanted her to prove how tough she was, told me that Taylor was the strongest person she knew and that since her mother's death didn't crack her that she could take anything we threw at her and dish it back just as well. Emma was disappointed when Hebert turned out to be just another sheep that couldn't and wouldn't fight back. From my first look at the girl I could see that she was nothing but a worm though, not worth the time it would take to build her up."
"I think that's enough," Emily said, raising one of her hands. "Trooper, take miss Hess back to her cell."
"What the fuck do you mean take me back to my cell Piggy?" Sophia snarled at the director as the trooper stepped over and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Take your hand off me, you asshat." She bit out at the trooper before turning back to Piggot. "You need me out there, keeping your precious little darlings safe from ending up in Lung's brothels or Hookwolf's fighting ring. I am that hero that while you may not want me, you do need me to keep the thugs and racists in check."
"No, I do not," Emily Piggot said in a flat tone. "And while nothing you have said in here can be used at a trial against you, do not think for one damn second that I'm going to have you out on that street, on my streets where you can cause a damn gang war, a race war, or just piss off the wrong parahuman to the point that they throw the rules out the damn window and start coming after MY Wards." By the end of her sentence the director was seething at the teen. "Get her out of my sight!" she snapped at the trooper.
Sophia, in comparison, looked at the adults in the room in shock as the Director gave her order to the trooper. "And you are all going to just allow this?" she asked, shock apparent in her tone.
Her mother gave her an embarrassed look, "Sophia," she said, catching the teen's attention. "Baby girl, you need help, and I hope that the court can see that and get you it. It is apparent that I have failed you as a mother, and that rips my heart, but maybe with some help you can come back to us." The scream that Sophia Hess let out as she was pulled from the conference room would have made a wounded Jaguar proud at both its rage and its volume.
Once the door closed behind the teen and the trooper, Emily looked at the three other women and asked a simple question, "Suggestions?"
**
Fixed that for Emily. She's not going to change her mind, but there is always the outside chance something happens that means Sophia doesn't go to juvie.
Like Behemoth incinerating them all or something.
- Location
- England
piece
There isn't going to be much peace involved.
That's not actually true. People misunderstand how 'hearsay' works. She's just said stuff in front of a whole bunch of people and if those people choose to testify about that stuff it is likely to be admissible.
Last edited:
- Location
- Koszalin, Poland
I don't see anything that would stop her from going to juvie. It happened in canon, so it should happen here as well.
Sophia has, while useful power, nothing incredible as well. It's in the end just Breaker 3.
Also according to the WoG she was 'disciplined' by Alexandria before she ended up in Wards in their version of parahuman boot camp. In this case, Sophia did something worse - she made a fool of Alexandria, and I have a feeling that Rebecca won't be merciful in this case. Just a feeling
.
John Therion
The Rat In The Wall
- Location
- Walls
"Police is a business" is cynical? That's so American it hurts. Because in other parts of the world, in a hypothetical dystopia it's much more likely to end up being a tool of the dictatorship rather than a business. That said, few typos which I saw were already mentioned by others.
It's always nice to see someone deal with Sophia, but I gotta be honest, I'll have to re-read the whole thing soon because this felt disconnected to me. It's been too long since I read this one. That said, I like what I remember.... not much of a praise, but oh w ell. Keep trucking. I'll return on the scene of the crime once I've refreshed my memory.
It's always nice to see someone deal with Sophia, but I gotta be honest, I'll have to re-read the whole thing soon because this felt disconnected to me. It's been too long since I read this one. That said, I like what I remember.... not much of a praise, but oh w ell. Keep trucking. I'll return on the scene of the crime once I've refreshed my memory.
Rajvik_wolfboy
Wolf amongst the stars.
- Location
- Florida
sighs, yes, an american standpoint from a pair of american characters as rewritten by an american author about a game universe that was written by predominantly american creators. I understand that other places in the universe, (both this one and the Shadowrun universe) can be and usually is not as americans view the world, we tend to be very american-centric. That said, as some of you may have noticed, there are things Taylor is specifically NOT telling her father about the world she spent almost a decade of her most formative years in. If she did he would derail her plans and shove her into in patient therapy, (which yes, she needs, but like most runners, doesn't really admit that she needs) and bankrupt himself doing so. She knows that they cannot afford that, and thus she's going to keep her mouth shut, (hello canon martyrdom complex)
Interlude: While you were sleeping
Rajvik_wolfboy
Wolf amongst the stars.
- Location
- Florida
"I'll get it," Emma chirped from the couch as the doorbell rang through the house. Getting up she fixed her "lazy clothes" so that they sat right as she approached the front door. Opening the door, she expected to see either Madison or Sophia. Winslow had been shut down due to the need to "Investigate an incident" according to the news the night before, and with no school scheduled, there was no reason for the three of them to go troll the mall and the boardwalk while celebrating what was likely to be their final victory over Taylor. Instead of her friends though, Emma opened the door to find a pair of uniformed officers of the Brockton Pay Police Department standing there with a Crime Scene van parked behind their cruiser. "Miss Emma Barnes?" one of the officers asked. "Is your mother home?"
"Yes," she answered, giving the officer a smile. "Mom," she shouted back over her shoulder. "Could you come to the door please?"
"One minute," her mother called back from the kitchen, so Emma stood there and waited with the officers. After about a minute and a half her mother walked into the short entryway hall. "Yes officers, can I help you?"
"Are you Zoe Barnes?" the second officer asked.
"Yes," her mother answered. "Is there a problem?"
"I'm afraid so ma'am," the first officer replied. "Miss Emma Barnes, please step out onto the porch, I need to place you under arrest for the attempted murder of one Taylor Hebert."
"What!?!" Emma and her mother both said at the same time.
"Miss Barnes," the second officer said, starting to reach for her. "Please don't make this difficult, just step out here, place your hands behind your back, and we can sort this all out at the station."
Emma jerked back out of the officer's reach with a startled, "Like hell!" and started to run back into the house.
"Miss Barnes," the second officer said even as her mother cried out, "Emma!" and the officer cursed.
"Damn it," the officer said. "Mrs. Barnes, are there any weapons in the house?"
"Just the twelve-gauge in the entryway closet," Zoe Barnes answered. "That is, unless she got something from one of the bastards that she goes to school with at Winslow."
"Damn," The first officer said as the second ran after the teenager. "Control, this is Johnson, we need backup and possibly a negotiator at 1322 Captain's Way."
"Backup in route," the radio squawked. "Please clear any bystanders from the residence and immediate area. Negotiator is enroute." Zoe Barnes could only step out and worry her lip, as she worried about her daughter.
**
Officer Michael Jenkins ducked back as a crossbow bolt buried itself in the wall opposite the doorway, a quick peek around the corner of the doorway showed the girl frantically scrabbling at a computer with her right hand while with a mechanical whirring and a click, a crossbow in her left hand pointed in the general direction of the doorway. "Miss Barnes," he called into the room. "You need to put the weapon down and surrender. You're only making this more difficult for yourself."
"Fuck you," the teen yelled back, the sound of a mouse clicking frantically from the other room. "I'm too pretty, too important and too damn rich to go to fucking jail, so fuck off."
Jenkins sighed and keyed his microphone, "Subject is armed with a small repeating crossbow that looks to possibly be tinker-tech." he said into the radio. "She might be trying to erase evidence from her computer."
"PRT is being notified," dispatch answered. "Tasers are authorized, try not to hit the computer."
"Miss Barnes, last chance to surrender or you will be tasered," Jenkins warned as he drew his taser from its holster.
"Get bent you…" as the girl started to speak Jenkins first peeked around the doorway before reaching around it with his taser and shooting the girl with the prongs. The girl's scream was loud as the electricity caused her hands to grip, firing the crossbow into the ceiling.
"Subject is down to taser effects," Jenkins said into his radio as he stepped into the room. Removing the currently reloading crossbow from the girl's hand and forearm so that he could handcuff her, he could see that while it might not actually be tinker-tech, it was, at least, a very expensive crossbow. Looking at the computer on her desk, Jenkins stopped the deletion of the files that the girl had been clearing from her computer. "Control, we are going to need a computer specialist. Subject was trying to delete files from her computer."
"Understood," dispatch answered. "They are already on their way."
**
"Explain to me," Emily Piggot said in a low, even voice. "How the Brockton Bay Police Department ended up with both Mush and Squealer in custody?"
"Ma'am," Velocity said, almost squeaking at the tone that had sent plenty of PRT officers to the roughest and dirtiest jobs in the area. "You have to understand that my contact on the local police force was not in on the bust." The director nodded so the cape continued. "That said, according to my contact, at approximately one in the morning, a call came in specifically asking for the narcotics or gang divisions, someone who needed the police to come and pick up a bunch of Merchants."
"Then why did the answering detective not have the person call the PRT?" Piggot asked in a growl.
"Because they did not notice anyone using any parahuman abilities and were not a parahuman themselves," Velocity answered. "Outside the users in the drug den, there were about a half dozen people seran wrapped and stacked like cordwood in the front room along with a few hundred thousand dollars' worth of drugs and paraphernalia."
"Then how did they know they had Squealer and Mush?" Piggot asked, blinking and lifting her eyebrows as she suddenly sat back, a contemplative look on her face.
"Squealer and Mush were picked out due to their fingerprints after they had been transported back to the precinct," Velocity answered. "We have their prints flagged for PRT attention in the system in case they are ever arrested."
Piggot nodded, "What do we know about the Vigilante?" she asked.
"Practically nothing unfortunately," the hero answered. "They called the police directly, not through 911, and while showing the possibility of being either a mover or stranger by disappearing in front of ten sober officers, we have no other information other than the caller was female."
Emily sighed and nodded again, "Very well," she said. "How bad were the injuries to the Merchants?"
"That's the really weird thing ma'am," Velocity said looking at a notebook. "None of them were injured, I mean at all. Squealer had a taser burn where the prongs connected, but otherwise all of them were simply asleep."
Emily wiped her hands down her face and groaned. "Powers are such bullshit," she muttered. "Fine," she continued, "start a new Vigilante file, did she at least give a name?"
"Yes ma'am," Velocity answered, "The detective involved called her Owl."
**
Contessa blinked her eyes open and stared at the acoustic tile ceiling above her as a steady beep sounded from her right. Why am I in medical? she thought. They had been having a meeting when the door to the next room had opened and then, nothing.
"It is good to see you awake again Fortuna," Doctor Mother said as the older, dark skinned woman walked into the room. The doctor was followed into the room by another woman with white hair and pointed ears. Elf, enemy, eliminate with extreme prejudice, the words slammed to the forefront of Contessa's mind as her power freaked out. "You've been in a coma since November when our new allies arrived, do you know what caused it?"
"My passenger," she replied hoarsely before taking the cup of water that the doctor offered her. "They consider her, her kind, to be a dangerous enemy. Who and what are you?"
The other woman smiled. "My name is Aina Dupree," she said, "and I am, what in my universe, is referred to as an immortal elf. I am also, one of the few beings that know exactly what your powers are from, and what those beings do."
The passenger gibbered away in Contessa's mind, trying to force her to attack the being in front of her, trying to force Contessa to try and escape from the facility in any way possible. Blocking it out was an effort and in heavily accented English, she asked without using her power, "Why do you scare them so?"
"Because we know where they come from," Dupree answered. "As well as how to actually kill them."
**
"Yes," she answered, giving the officer a smile. "Mom," she shouted back over her shoulder. "Could you come to the door please?"
"One minute," her mother called back from the kitchen, so Emma stood there and waited with the officers. After about a minute and a half her mother walked into the short entryway hall. "Yes officers, can I help you?"
"Are you Zoe Barnes?" the second officer asked.
"Yes," her mother answered. "Is there a problem?"
"I'm afraid so ma'am," the first officer replied. "Miss Emma Barnes, please step out onto the porch, I need to place you under arrest for the attempted murder of one Taylor Hebert."
"What!?!" Emma and her mother both said at the same time.
"Miss Barnes," the second officer said, starting to reach for her. "Please don't make this difficult, just step out here, place your hands behind your back, and we can sort this all out at the station."
Emma jerked back out of the officer's reach with a startled, "Like hell!" and started to run back into the house.
"Miss Barnes," the second officer said even as her mother cried out, "Emma!" and the officer cursed.
"Damn it," the officer said. "Mrs. Barnes, are there any weapons in the house?"
"Just the twelve-gauge in the entryway closet," Zoe Barnes answered. "That is, unless she got something from one of the bastards that she goes to school with at Winslow."
"Damn," The first officer said as the second ran after the teenager. "Control, this is Johnson, we need backup and possibly a negotiator at 1322 Captain's Way."
"Backup in route," the radio squawked. "Please clear any bystanders from the residence and immediate area. Negotiator is enroute." Zoe Barnes could only step out and worry her lip, as she worried about her daughter.
**
Officer Michael Jenkins ducked back as a crossbow bolt buried itself in the wall opposite the doorway, a quick peek around the corner of the doorway showed the girl frantically scrabbling at a computer with her right hand while with a mechanical whirring and a click, a crossbow in her left hand pointed in the general direction of the doorway. "Miss Barnes," he called into the room. "You need to put the weapon down and surrender. You're only making this more difficult for yourself."
"Fuck you," the teen yelled back, the sound of a mouse clicking frantically from the other room. "I'm too pretty, too important and too damn rich to go to fucking jail, so fuck off."
Jenkins sighed and keyed his microphone, "Subject is armed with a small repeating crossbow that looks to possibly be tinker-tech." he said into the radio. "She might be trying to erase evidence from her computer."
"PRT is being notified," dispatch answered. "Tasers are authorized, try not to hit the computer."
"Miss Barnes, last chance to surrender or you will be tasered," Jenkins warned as he drew his taser from its holster.
"Get bent you…" as the girl started to speak Jenkins first peeked around the doorway before reaching around it with his taser and shooting the girl with the prongs. The girl's scream was loud as the electricity caused her hands to grip, firing the crossbow into the ceiling.
"Subject is down to taser effects," Jenkins said into his radio as he stepped into the room. Removing the currently reloading crossbow from the girl's hand and forearm so that he could handcuff her, he could see that while it might not actually be tinker-tech, it was, at least, a very expensive crossbow. Looking at the computer on her desk, Jenkins stopped the deletion of the files that the girl had been clearing from her computer. "Control, we are going to need a computer specialist. Subject was trying to delete files from her computer."
"Understood," dispatch answered. "They are already on their way."
**
"Explain to me," Emily Piggot said in a low, even voice. "How the Brockton Bay Police Department ended up with both Mush and Squealer in custody?"
"Ma'am," Velocity said, almost squeaking at the tone that had sent plenty of PRT officers to the roughest and dirtiest jobs in the area. "You have to understand that my contact on the local police force was not in on the bust." The director nodded so the cape continued. "That said, according to my contact, at approximately one in the morning, a call came in specifically asking for the narcotics or gang divisions, someone who needed the police to come and pick up a bunch of Merchants."
"Then why did the answering detective not have the person call the PRT?" Piggot asked in a growl.
"Because they did not notice anyone using any parahuman abilities and were not a parahuman themselves," Velocity answered. "Outside the users in the drug den, there were about a half dozen people seran wrapped and stacked like cordwood in the front room along with a few hundred thousand dollars' worth of drugs and paraphernalia."
"Then how did they know they had Squealer and Mush?" Piggot asked, blinking and lifting her eyebrows as she suddenly sat back, a contemplative look on her face.
"Squealer and Mush were picked out due to their fingerprints after they had been transported back to the precinct," Velocity answered. "We have their prints flagged for PRT attention in the system in case they are ever arrested."
Piggot nodded, "What do we know about the Vigilante?" she asked.
"Practically nothing unfortunately," the hero answered. "They called the police directly, not through 911, and while showing the possibility of being either a mover or stranger by disappearing in front of ten sober officers, we have no other information other than the caller was female."
Emily sighed and nodded again, "Very well," she said. "How bad were the injuries to the Merchants?"
"That's the really weird thing ma'am," Velocity said looking at a notebook. "None of them were injured, I mean at all. Squealer had a taser burn where the prongs connected, but otherwise all of them were simply asleep."
Emily wiped her hands down her face and groaned. "Powers are such bullshit," she muttered. "Fine," she continued, "start a new Vigilante file, did she at least give a name?"
"Yes ma'am," Velocity answered, "The detective involved called her Owl."
**
Contessa blinked her eyes open and stared at the acoustic tile ceiling above her as a steady beep sounded from her right. Why am I in medical? she thought. They had been having a meeting when the door to the next room had opened and then, nothing.
"It is good to see you awake again Fortuna," Doctor Mother said as the older, dark skinned woman walked into the room. The doctor was followed into the room by another woman with white hair and pointed ears. Elf, enemy, eliminate with extreme prejudice, the words slammed to the forefront of Contessa's mind as her power freaked out. "You've been in a coma since November when our new allies arrived, do you know what caused it?"
"My passenger," she replied hoarsely before taking the cup of water that the doctor offered her. "They consider her, her kind, to be a dangerous enemy. Who and what are you?"
The other woman smiled. "My name is Aina Dupree," she said, "and I am, what in my universe, is referred to as an immortal elf. I am also, one of the few beings that know exactly what your powers are from, and what those beings do."
The passenger gibbered away in Contessa's mind, trying to force her to attack the being in front of her, trying to force Contessa to try and escape from the facility in any way possible. Blocking it out was an effort and in heavily accented English, she asked without using her power, "Why do you scare them so?"
"Because we know where they come from," Dupree answered. "As well as how to actually kill them."
**
Last edited:
- Location
- united states
ooooooohhhhhhh snap!!! What are the powers if someone from the shadowrun world knows how to kill them??
OstermanA
(Unverified Penguin)
- Location
- $PWD
The important thing here is that Ms. Dupree is an Immortal Elf. There aren't very many of them, but these beings are all millions of years old, immensely powerful, and were created by the Great Dragons for the specific purpose of fighting and hopefully destroying an endless, uncountable swarm of extradimensional Cthulhu-analogs. There's more of them than you can count and even one of the older ones could strip all life from the planet.
Fighting an individual shard would be challenging, but not nearly as challenging as the task they were created for. Especially given that The Enemy come from another plane of existence nearly unconnected to our own. Dealing with shards on parallel worlds wouldn't even require a paradigm shift for them.
Given the slightest bit of warning, an Immortal Elf could match and slaughter entire companies of elite soldiers and mercenaries. A few hours, and they could wipe a city off the map. Annihilating entire countries isn't out of the question, given a few weeks of uninterrupted preparation.
Last edited:
ecs05norway
Zenryoku Zenkai!
Which makes one wonder if the Entities might actually be the enemies they were supposed to fight....
- Location
- USA
At lest one of them at Min.
SolarFlare
(Verified Cape)
- Location
- Brockton Bay, USA
- Pronouns
- She/Her
What you did there. I see it.
Rajvik_wolfboy
Wolf amongst the stars.
- Location
- Florida
i'm glad you do because i have no clue what you are talking about
Cyclone1969
Lurker
- Location
- Stockton-on-tees, UK
Google phoo - A.C.A.B - All Cop Are B......s (
Edited to change a word
Last edited:
OstermanA
(Unverified Penguin)
- Location
- $PWD
No, the things that the Immortal Elves were intended to fight are so much worse than anything Scion or Eden could possibly come up with. The Enemy have a pretty serious hatred of all intelligent life for a variety of reasons that are somewhat off topic here, but the end result is that their primary drive in life is to murder the fuck out of anything smarter than a goldfish. There was a whole thing about some doomsday cultists trying to fashion a bridge for The Enemy to arrive on Earth using the twisted remains of human souls. Even the memory of looking at the thing was enough to cause serious SAN damage.
The Sixth World is one of the few fictional universes that are unequivocally more fucked than Bet could ever hope to be.