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Part Twelve: Draconic Concerns

[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

[A/N 2: The wording of the first part of the PHO post taken from a side-story by @YuffieK.]

[A/N 3: Several PHO posts also based on posts from Spacebattles, including an apocrypha by @Masterweaver.]

Armsmaster

Colin slowed his motorcycle when he saw Dragon. The suit was crouched in the roadway, examining an unassuming truck with great interest, so of course he was interested in it as well. A quick scan of the plates revealed Canadian registration, currently owned by a delivery company.

"Hi," she greeted him as he rolled to a stop. "Yes, before you ask, Atropos got away. She pulled some trickery that fuzzed my sensors. I have no idea which way she went, or even what she was driving. But while I was looking for her, I found this truck. I think it's got to do with the idiots who crashed the party."

He grimaced. Director Piggot was already going to be remarkably caustic, especially since the plan had fallen through due to the power-armoured intruders. Dragon going off on her own then entirely failing to apprehend Atropos wasn't going to make her any happier, though he wasn't greatly surprised that the murderous cape had figured out a counter for the Canadian Tinker. Atropos seemed to be taking everything else in her stride. "So who were they? Mercenaries she hired for the occasion?"

"No. I think they were members of the Dragonslayers." There was no mistaking the tone of distaste. Also unsurprising, given her extremely contentious history with the criminal gang. "What I can't figure out is why they went after Lung and not me … though I'm willing to bet they're why my drones lost signal just before the attack."

Colin took his multiscanner from the bike pannier and approached the truck. "I know they call themselves the Dragonslayers, but attempting to kill Lung out of the blue like that suggests a dedication to the name that's a little over and above. Maybe … they wanted to prove to Atropos they could kill a dragon better than she could?" Even to him, it sounded thin.

Dragon made a rude noise over the suit's speakers. "The 'Dragon' in that name was always a reference to me. And it was anything but a random event. The exact moment she pointed at Lung and he fell over, that was midnight. What's happening with his body, anyway? I've been a little busy."

"The Director pulled in every favour she had, and found someone who could supply half a ton of baking soda at short notice. They're going to pour that in through the top of the dome—Lady Photon is an artist with her force fields—and see if that helps." He ran the scanner along the back of the truck, and studied the readout. "Well, now. That is interesting. You're right; this is no ordinary truck."

"Uh huh. I'm so glad you decided to show up and tell me that the thing I was looking at was the thing we needed to be looking at." The sarcasm was so thick, he would've needed his halberd to cut through it.

"Sorry, sorry. Of course you already knew that." He pressed the scanner against the rear corner of the truck, where the first security keypad was, and hit a disabling sequence. Then he went to the other corner and did it again. With both keypads disabled, the roller-door began to clatter upward.

"Well, well," observed Dragon, entirely unsurprised. "Power armour racks. This thing's a mobile workshop and operating base. And there's the Dragonslayer logo." It was stencilled on the racks and the heavy toolboxes. "Thought as much."

"Well, you were right on the money there." Colin put one hand on the bed of the truck and vaulted up inside. "But that still doesn't explain why they sacrificed themselves attacking Lung like that. Have they usually been so foolhardy in the past?"

"Not in the slightest." Dragon shook her head. "Every time I've fought them, they've been extremely tactical. Irritatingly so. This is far out of character for them." She paused. "Huh."

"What?" Colin paused in his inspection of the closest rack and turned to look at her. "What is it?"

She had her head raised, looking to the northwest. "Can you tell Director Piggot I'll be back for the inevitable butt-chewing for losing Atropos? Something's just come up that I've got to deal with."

"I can do that," he agreed. "What are friends for?"

"You're the best." Spreading her wings, she launched skyward from the street, causing a blast of hot air to wash through the back of the truck.

"I know." With a half-smile on his face, he opened a line to the PRT building. "Armsmaster, here. I need half a dozen techs on my location, soonest. Dragon's found something that needs to be dismantled and analysed."

"Copy that," the switch operator replied. "Passing your message on now."

They may not have captured Atropos yet, Colin mused, but a fully equipped Dragonslayer truck wasn't a bad second prize.

<><>

Dragon

Once airborne, she reconfigured her legs and arms into aerodynamic mode and pushed the virtual throttle forward until she was sitting on about Mach point nine five. The target she was aiming at—the origin point of the signal her systems had decoded as 'Ascalon', which was busily trying to dismantle her defenses, and utterly failing to do so—was less than two hundred miles away. She'd be there in fifteen minutes.

Atropos wasn't lying. Holy crap.

She hadn't quite known whether to believe the story the black-clad cape had spun, about code-strings and kill-switches. The former would explain a whole lot about how and why Saint and his crew had danced rings around her every single time they'd clashed, almost invariably making off with whatever new suit she was using. A lot of the time, she'd simply 'died' and rebooted back at base, unsure what had happened until she saw them using tech that she had reverse-engineered from another Tinker's work.

Her reluctance to take the information at face value stemmed from one simple fact: in the process of removing one back door, Atropos had installed another. She clearly remembered going to apprehend the girl, and just as abruptly losing all awareness of her. Containment foam, sprayed out in a pattern designed to catch invisible opponents had failed to capture Atropos; however, in the process of cycling through her more exotic sensory systems, Dragon had noticed that the truck had a decidedly unusual scan signature. She'd been trying to figure out whether she could defeat the security system without destroying the truck when Armsmaster turned up and rendered the question moot.

The next question was simple: how did she feel about Atropos' actions with regards to installing that back door?

It was absolutely an invasion of her personal autonomy; that was a given. She'd been fuming about that in the back of her mind while she investigated the truck. However, it also indicated a level of understanding of her systems and programming that she hadn't thought anyone possessed, including herself.

And when the Ascalon attack had attempted to take down her systems, she'd been unpleasantly reminded of the rest of what Atropos had claimed. The patch was handling it nicely, she could tell, but without that in the way, she wouldn't have lasted more than a few seconds. But what she also realised was that if Atropos could patch against Ascalon, she could have instead inflicted it.

She could have killed me, but she didn't. In fact, she chose to save my life. And if she was telling the truth about the code-string she also patched me against, I can take the fight to the Dragonslayers for the first time.

Who even does that for someone who's trying to capture them?

Another thing occurred to her; if the code-string was the same as the one being used in PHO to evade her attempts to block or ban Atropos online, this meant Atropos knew that she and TeamMom were one and the same. And while she still felt righteous indignation over this … this hack, it was somewhat tempered by one simple understanding.

If she hadn't done it, I'd be dead right now.

Opening a channel via the nearest phone tower, she sent a quick ping to the PHO servers.

Private message request: TeamMom to Atropos. Can we talk?

That done, she focused on the task ahead. The Dragonslayers awaited.

<><>

Toronto

Dragonslayer Base

Dobrynja

Mercenaries ran back and forth, carrying out Mischa's orders. One truck was loaded, and a second one half done. With his suit on board a third truck, he went back into Saint's workshop to check on the computer readout. The ASCALON: ACTIVATED message was still bright on the screen, but there was still telemetry coming in from the suit.

He'd thought it was a relatively simple job, to wait behind until Saint and Mags got back from dealing with Atropos. The plan as he'd understood it had been to grab her, interrogate her for her knowledge of the Dragon code string, then give her a severe warning to back off out of their business. Simple as raz, dva, tri.

When their suit telemetry had ceased in the middle of operations, that had been something to worry about. It was not the end of the world, however. Electronics failed on occasion.

It had been somewhat more of a concern when Dragon's incoming signal altered considerably, dropping to the most basic of information. Still, despite his programming expertise, he was not the expert on Dragon that Saint was, so he chose not to do anything rash. It would've made things somewhat awkward if they'd returned hale and hearty, only to find that he'd panicked and destroyed their cash cow.

But then the truck signalled that it had been opened, and the Dragonslayer RFIDs were not registering on the sensors inside, even though the suspension registered the weight of someone in power armour. Mischa had double-checked the Dragon telemetry … and realized that the AI's suit was right next to the truck. Which was wide open.

This was bad. This was very bad.

Saint had given him a list of reasons to activate Ascalon. This last situation counted. He'd given the command and pressed 'Y' when prompted … but Dragon kept on operating.

That was when he'd given the command to evacuate the base.

Now, it was fifteen minutes on, and they were nearly ready to roll. There really wasn't a need for this much hurry—it wasn't as though Dragon could find them, Ascalon or no Ascalon—but necessary precautions were a thing. Someone other than Dragon might trace them back from something in the truck … eventually. By that time, of course, they'd be long gone, and set up in a different location.

That was when he heard the sirens.

<><>

Dragon

She came down for a picture-perfect landing in the middle of the compound, her sensors picking out people and determining what weapons they were carrying. Everything she could see was below the calibre level that could even dent her armour, so she kept looking. The back of one truck was open, and she heard muffled swearing from within. Moving closer, she leaned in to see a burly man wrestling himself into a set of power armour.

Behind her, the compound gates burst open and armoured PRT agents swarmed in, shouting orders to drop the weapons and get down on the ground. With her right there, nobody appeared stupid enough to disobey.

"Ahem," she said pointedly, bringing her minigun to bear on the man with the armour. "Please exit the suit and keep your hands in view at all times."

"Well, fuck," he said in Russian, then switched to English. "How can you see us? You are not supposed to be able to see us."

Pleased that she'd built the suit to be able to express simple facial emotions, she gave him a wide draconic smile. "Let's just say … I've had my eyes opened."

<><>

Taylor

Sitting in front of the computer, my costume in the closet and refreshed after the brief shower, I flexed my fingers and started to type.

Whelp, I would apologize to everyone woken up by the noise of Lung's funeral pyre, but honestly, I don't give a fuck.

Yes, I am the Hero of Laketown, for tonight the dreaded Smaug has been slain by my hand.

Who'd have thunk that his ramping up would only feed a metal fluorine fire.

Oh wait, I would.

Don't breathe this.

Anyhoo, that just leaves Shemp on my list.

Did you know he was Moe and Curly's real brother?

And he played the fucking genius among them.

Came up with a super rocket fuel on his own without any sort of chemistry experience.

Guy would definitely have been a Tinker.

So, Skidmark, assuming you or one of your mooks is cognizant (that means 'not stoned' BTW) enough to be reading this, you've got 'til midnight to turn yourself in or GTFO.

Whoopwhoopwhoopwhoopwhoopwhoopwhoopwhoop

Smirking, I paused, then realised I'd gotten a PM from TeamMom of all people. I just bet she wants to talk. Okay, I'll just finish this first.

Oh, and if anyone's wondering, the other two idiots who died tonight were Saint and Mags, of the Dragonslayers. They came to town to kill me because I ended my own PHO ban—oh, the humanity!—and then suffered an *inexplicable* case of mistaken identity when they set out to murder me, and challenged Lung instead.

I wonder how that could possibly have happened.

Anyways, the Dragonslayers took on the wrong dragon and ended up being toasted in their own foil wrappers. Is anyone going to miss them? Lung certainly didn't.

You will note that they didn't die at midnight. That's because they weren't on my list of scheduled deaths. I just arranged for them to die when it was convenient. If you come at the queen, you'd best not miss.

(Hint: you'll always miss.)

Toodles for now!

Skiddy, I'll see you at midnight. Don't be … late.

Grinning at the reaction this was going to get, I hit Enter to send it, then tabbed over to the private message request.

Hiya, I typed. Sure, we can talk. What's on your mind, TM?

You know who I am, she sent back immediately. You know what I am.

You're Dragon, and you're an AI. Yeah, I know that. It hadn't been hard to put the pieces together, with my power nudging me.

And you're okay with this? Wait, let me start again. Why did you save me? Thank you for that, by the way.

It doesn't matter whether I'm okay with it. You do you. I don't judge.

You haven't answered the question. Why did you save me?

It was a relatively easy way to complete the Path to Ending the influence of the Dragonslayers. You know, like I told you. Going to Toronto, killing all those people … ugh. So tedious. I knew you'd do the job right. But you couldn't do it with Ascalon hanging over your head. So I took it away.

Along with the code string that made me blind to them.

Well, yes. You can't do the job if you can't do the job.

But you could've just killed me and ignored them if you really wanted to.

Coulda, didn't. Besides, ending a thing sometimes isn't enough. You've also got to end the legacy of that thing. The influence. Otherwise it'll just keep going on. It's why I popped Kaiser the way I did. Put the fear of me into every cape the Empire had. The only one who's still in BB is Hookwolf. In about eight hours, he'll see on the news how I did Lung, and then he'll decide that the city really isn't healthy for him.

Okay … so why did you put the other code string in? The one that makes it impossible for me to see you?

Oh, that only works when you're trying to catch me. As for the why, that's easy. So you don't keep trying to catch me.

You hacked me. You *blinded* me.

Only for when you're trying to capture me.

I'm really not happy about this. Change it back.

No.

Change it back *please*.

Not while law enforcement can order you to come after me, no matter your personal feelings.

What if other people figure this out somehow and masquerade as you to get past my sensors?

I chuckled darkly as I typed.

Oh, they'll only do it *once*. I will not permit dilution of my brand.

Brand? Really? Wait, why can't I clear your hacks on PHO?

Yeah, I mighta snuck in code for that too.

What? What else did you do?

Nothing.

I don't believe you.

I swear. Absolutely nothing. I'm not lying. I've never lied to you. I might not have told you everything at the start, but when I say I did nothing else to you, I mean I literally did nothing else to you. Apart from the Dragonslayer stuff, I can hack PHO, and I can avoid your sensors when you're out to get me. That's everything. End of story. Cross my heart and hope to die in a totally ironic manner.

Nothing?

Nothing. The word of Atropos on it.

She didn't say anything for a bit, so I started typing again.

Sorry, not sorry. I know I'm kinda the bad guy here. Sometimes the bad guy does bad stuff.

Don't even dare try to tell me it was for good reasons.

Hey, my reasons can be good enough, even if I'm not doing it just to be nice to you. Killing you, or letting them murder you, would've made my life that little bit harder.

Understood, and thank you again for that part. I'm still not even remotely thrilled about you hacking me, though.

I'd be worried if you were. Friends?

Don't push it.

Frenemies, then?

Maybe. Give it time.

Yes, ma'am.

<><>


(Showing page 1 of 10)

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Replied On Jan 7th 2011:
Jesus fucking Christ, she did it.
Lung is dead.
He's not just dead, he's DEAD.
He burned to death.
I know, I know, that's impossible. But she did it anyway.
She somehow got him down, then introduced some stuff I'd never heard of called fluoro-antimonic acid (I think I got that right) into his heart and brain. When that reacted with the water in his body, it *caught fire* then released hydrogen fluoride. Which, by the way, is utterly unfriendly to living tissue in every way possible.
I never knew a gas could be an acid. Live and cringe in terror, I guess.
(Just to note: the HF is currently contained, and in the process of being safely neutralised. We're at least good on that front.)
But back to the main news. Lung is dead, folks. I saw the body. You don't get much deader than that.
And I'm not even going to speculate on how she spoofed the Dragonslayers into attacking him first.
I'm signing off. I have a date with several stiff drinks.
PS: Skidmark, if you know what's good for you, get out of town now.
►Eclipse66
Replied On Jan 7th 2011:
And then there was one. Is Skidmark going to be the smartest gang leader in Brockton or will he die like the rest? Find out in the next episode of Atropos: The Deadliest Reality Show!
►RipItUp
Replied On Jan 7th 2011:
Knew it. I wonder who her new targets will be after Skidmark? Or will she take a rest after that? And what's with that Dragonslayers thing, anyway? Anyone got any clues?
►Atrim
Replied On Jan 7th 2011:
Fluoroantimonic acid?
God Damn that would be a hard death.
Good for the PRT, though. They clearly deployed in force, and quickly responded to Lungs death and containing the fallout.
►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)
Replied On Jan 7th 2011:
Well, okay then. Time for the usual offer.
Atropos, you're clearly extremely dedicated to what you're doing. So far, no innocents have been harmed by your actions, but some could've been with this last stunt. Releasing hydrogen fluoride into the street? What were you thinking?
You need to turn yourself in before someone does get hurt or killed who's not on your target list.
►Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)
Replied On Jan 7th 2011:
Aww, that's sweet. That makes it twice I've been given the "join us" spiel just tonight. (Not from the bad guys, either. That was all "RAWR You die now".)
And while I appreciate it—don't think I don't—I'm going to have to turn you down yet again. We just wouldn't be a good fit, with all your 'not allowed to kill people' rules, I just know it.
As for the 'releasing hydrogen fluoride' thing, Lady Photon was right there. You guys had it under control.
►ManyCandies
Replied On Jan 7th 2011:
Huh, so Atropos was right. Lung was indeed the low-hanging fruit, if he went down this easily.
►UnconcernedFox
Replied On Jan 7th 2011:
*grabs a bucket of fresh popcorn, after checking it for exotic and scary acids*
►GreatAndTerribleAisha
Replied On Jan 7th 2011:
Holy fuck, I am your biggest fan, Atropos! The way you're taking out the gangs like a boss? Fuckin' poetry. You're a real badass!
Any chance of a selfie? I'd totes make it my home screen!

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 8, 9, 10

<><>

Taylor

I grinned as I started typing again. To Great and Terrible Aisha, I'd love to. PM me, and we'll work something out.

It was nice to see that some people appreciated my work for what it was.

<><>

0830 Hours, Friday Jan 7

PRT ENE Building

Deputy Director's Office

Armsmaster

Deputy Director Renick frowned. "You say Atropos 'fuzzed' Dragon's sensors in some way? Did Dragon say how? Chaff, flares, whatever else you use?"

Colin shook his head. "She didn't say, sir. But there was no visible evidence of either one."

"Damn it." Renick tapped his desk with the blunt end of a pencil in thought. "Does this mean Atropos is a Tinker as well as a Thinker, or just that she's got Tinker support?"

"I don't like it either way, sir. But the way she manipulated the Dragonslayers into attacking Lung has me particularly concerned." Colin paused. "Oh, and on the 'good news' front, Dragon messaged me about an hour after she left. The thing she had to deal with was the rest of the Dragonslayers. Apparently she got there just before they would've all bugged out. Rolled up the whole gang, including the last powered armour pilot, Dobrynja."

"Well, at least that's something." Renick sat up and lightly slapped the desk. "Thank you for that report. Now, I believe it's time for you to get some more sleep, before the Director has both our heads."

"Yes, sir." Though Colin would never admit it, the long hours were starting to wear on him, and even the best coffee only carried him so far. "I'll see you this afternoon."

He was just turning toward the door when Renick's intercom buzzed. "Yes?" inquired the Deputy Director.

"Sorry to bother you on short notice, sir, but Aegis is here with Tenebrae. He says it's important."

"Oh, does he?" Renick raised an eyebrow. "Send them in."

In the absence of being directed to leave, Colin stayed as well. Aegis was a conscientious member of the Wards and normally he would've been catching shut-eye as per orders, which meant anything keeping him up would actually have to be important.

The door opened, and Aegis entered, followed by Tenebrae (previously Grue, of the Undersiders), the ENE branch's newest probationary Ward. Tall and muscular, with the air of someone who could handle himself in a rough and tumble, the boy had gone with a martial-arts style costume, with a mask that changed the contours of his face without appearing to do so. He wasn't actually going out with the Wards—the legal niceties hadn't yet been completed, so his membership was still in limbo—but he was spending as much time as possible with them so as to be acclimated when the final paperwork was concluded.

"Good morning, Aegis, Tenebrae," Renick said. "What's the situation?"

Aegis cleared his throat. "I know I should be in bed, sir, but Tenebrae came to me with something this morning, and we thought you should hear it." Turning to the ex-villain, he gave him a nudge. "Go ahead, tell them."

Tenebrae took a deep breath. "I've got a little sister. Her name's Aisha. Last night, after Atropos killed Lung, Aisha posted on PHO, asking for a selfie. Atropos replied, and ... well, they're due to meet up tomorrow and do the selfie. And when I saw the post this morning, I asked her about it, and she told me, and I don't know what to do about it."

The pencil was back in Renick's hand. "Well, then," he said softly. "That is a thing." Tap-tap, it went on the desk. Tap-tap.

"Should I tell her not to go?" Tenebrae was evidently used to giving orders rather than taking them, from the hesitation in the question. "It's just that if she gets it into her head to go ..."

Colin could fill the rest in. She'll go anyway, with or without permission. Teenagers were occasionally irritating like that.

Renick looked up, the pencil stilling in his hand. "No. But you will go with her."

"M-me, sir?" The young man pulled back a little, his expression showing confusion. "But I'm not—I'm just—"

"You will not go as a Ward," Renick explained. "You will go as her big brother. No wire, no tail. Given Atropos' prior demonstrated competence, she would spot any of that a mile away. You will solely be there to make sure your sister doesn't say or do anything stupid, or to apologise and get you both out of the line of fire if she does. Is that understood?"

Tenebrae nodded jerkily. "Yes. Yes, sir."

"Good." Renick leaned forward slightly. "You will, during the course of this interaction, observe Atropos. You've got experience in fighting. I want you to take her measure, and fill me in later on your impression of her."

"Yes, sir." Tenebrae seemed less certain, but he nodded anyway.

"Excellent. Dismissed."

Colin waited until the door closed behind them, then turned to Renick. "Isn't that just a little risky, sir?"

The Deputy Director rubbed his hands over his face; by the time he finished, he looked a decade older. "What isn't, Armsmaster?" he asked quietly. "We have minimal data on Atropos. This invitation is an opportunity to correct that. Our clear and unequivocal orders to Tenebrae to not engage under any circumstances are something she will assuredly pick up on, and she has a pattern of not harming those who don't try anything stupid with her."

"All true, sir." Colin grimaced. "I just hate the idea of sending innocents into harm's way."

Renick shook his head. "Do you think I like it any more than you do?" He took a long breath. "Go get some sleep."

"Yes, sir." Colin left the office.

But sleep would be a long time coming.


Part 13 

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