I stood on the grass, illuminated by the new garden lights, as the two women scowled at me with their arms crossed. The fact that they were swinging back and forth on the chair in front of me only slightly dulled their annoyed looks.
“It’s illegal as shit, Dubs,” Roxy reiterated. “You’re about to be a hero. Don’t fuck it up.”
[It’s only illegal if they find out.]
She growled and shook her head. “I should knock some sense into you. Back me up here, Clara.”
Although the techie was giving me an equal amount of ire, she wrinkled her face up. “This alloy is illegal to mine, store, sell, or fabricate into anything.”
“That’s just stating fact. You’re not dissuading him.”
[Quick, Clara. Tell Roxy something much worse than some dirty rock ammunition.]
The techie blinked once. “In the southern jungles there is a large wasp species that will immediately seek out the ear canals of humanoids to lay their eggs within. The eggs secrete a-”
“That’s enough.” Roxy put her face into her hands. “You’re both going to get us branded as villains eventually, aren’t you? Is having ammunition that can break through the weakness of superheroes that important?”
It was. Despite my recent ascension into being more of a goody-two-shoes, there was still an underlying part of me that needed to have contingencies. Against everyone more powerful than me. Even Roxy. The League wasn’t likely to give me any Sanguine stakes, so this was the next best thing - even if we had to make them ourselves.
[It will level the playing field Rank-wise and keep me safer.]
She deflated. “I hate being the fucking sensible rule-following one out of us. I don’t have the temperament for it.”
Clara tilted away from the super. “Aren’t you the leader, though?”
“Yeah…” Roxy narrowed her eyes at me. “Dubs, I forbid you from doing this.”
[I’m not part of the team yet.]
“Motherfucker! Fine. You can play with fire, but leave me out of it.” She returned to crossing her arms. “I do hate being the stick in the mud, and love being part of your shenanigans, but if it could invoke the League’s wrath, then I’d rather be left in the dark.”
I understood her stance completely. She was being sensible - biting the hand that feeds would get our team dismantled and us labeled as villains. I was partly betting on the League giving me a lot more allowances than most. They were interested in how I developed; I was sure. Like a kid watching an ant farm. My only hope was to not become boring and outstay my use.
“More secrets to keep from my sister, Gunquake.” The techie gave me a coy smile.
Rather than get further annoyed, Roxy just rolled her eyes. “I was watching this attractive hunk of bad ideas assemble furniture in nothing but a low-rise thong earlier, gremlin. Nothing you could say will override that memory.”
Clara wrinkled up her face again. The additional descriptors further to what I had told her clearly more information than she wanted. Roxy seemed pleased enough that she had scored a point over the techie for a change that she didn’t push the point any further. Her views had been made clear.
No magic-detector could be acquired today, but Clara was working on it. The result of the scanner had distracted us from the other question I had intended to ask her.
[Clara, how does V-Force work?]
“It’s like a material that holds a lot of potential energy. Usually inert and has the properties of… clay - but with the right electronics attached, it can be powered to exert force briefly.”
[So it’s like an electromagnet, or there’s a chemical reaction that facilitates it?]
She was silent for a moment, before pulling a face. “You are implying that it works via magic, Gunquake?”
[It’s beyond my understanding either way. I am just hoping to get a clue as to my powers, without having to go through near-death experiences or further traumatic flashbacks.]
The techie sighed, giving me a shrug. “I honestly don’t know. We’ll have to test once I can procure the detection device from Dr Jarl.”
Roxy grinned, leaning back in the swing seat. “I reckon the readings will be off the chart. Dubs is filled with magical bullshit for healing and precognition.”
“And I think that it will show nothing. Gunquake is just a man melded with technology that we just don’t understand yet.”
They both looked at me to see what my thoughts on the matter would be.
[Perhaps whoever is closest to being correct can have a date night with me.]
“Look at you, thinking you’re all hot shit.” Roxy rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure where you get off in thinking we’re both simping for you non stop. Right, Clara?”
“What kind of date?” the techie asked.
The super stood up from the seat and just shook her head at the techie. “I’m going to make another hot drink. You want one, gremlin?”
“Hot chocolate, please. Oh, and a beer for Gunquake? I want to try out his canister fabricator before we retire for the night.”
Roxy nodded, taking her cup from the ground and going off into the house. Once she was out of earshot, Clara pat the swing seat for me to sit beside her. I did so and sighed as I relaxed into the soft cushions.
“Although I can’t taste the chocolate, the warmth and texture is a novelty.” The techie gave me a brief smile before looking out over the workshop buildings to the dark sky. “It’s not even something wrong with my tongue, but something in my brain can’t process the signals. After I lost my eyes, I was pretty miserable.”
[Not something cybernetically fixable?]
“Eh.” Her hand slid over to hold on to my gun-arm, her fingers squeezing it gently. “At first it was a cost thing. After my eyes, I had my fill of people prodding around in my brain. It’s not something that really bothers me anymore.” She turned her gaze back to me. “Can’t miss something you’ve never had.”
I nodded, but couldn’t find the words to respond. As much as I wanted to reassure her that if she ever changed her mind then I’d support her, it seemed to be something she had long made peace with. I couldn’t taste food either, but had at some point in my life. Couldn’t quite remember it, but there was a lump in my thoughts. Food eating had existed in my previous incarnation.
She looked to be content enough with my silence and strummed her fingertips on my weapon. “I’ll perform maintenance on your gun-arm once the fabricator is running, Gunquake. If we can ditch Rockslide for a little while, then we’ll talk about our illegal ideas.”
And that’s just what we did. The super returned shortly after with the drinks, and the three of us went over to the workshop to see the new toy in action. It seemed simple enough to work. Clara just warned that anything we made at present wouldn’t have the usual nanites and nutrition I was used to - those things were still due to arrive soon.
One part of the machine on the right side opened up to reveal a glass drawer. A foot deep and wide, and a little longer lengthwise. Clara emptied the contents of the beer bottle inside and pushed the draw closed to sit flush within the machine. She made note that we could probably include the whole bottle and it would work, but I’d probably not want liquified glass particles running through my bloodstream. I agreed.
Left side of the machine had a slot for inserting an empty canister. We had twenty of the glass vials and would get more, depending how useful the fabricator ended up being. Once inserted, the machine power-washed the new canister to ensure it was sterilized. The center, which housed all the hidden working parts, vibrated and hummed as it vacuumed up the beer and started to process it.
Something that would take a good twenty minutes, apparently.
Roxy headed back indoors to catch up on her social media, assuring us that she’d only read the ‘get well soon’ fan mail and nothing that would annoy her. Clara brought out the maintenance kit, and we sat back on the swing seat so that she could clean out my barrel.
“I know where you’re heading with the metal processing idea, Gunquake. There are a lot of parts that could go wrong, I’m sure you know.” She paused to look out to the wastes. “Finding the mine is the first step.”
[League hasn’t called me back, so I’ll probably do some investigating tomorrow.]
Her green eyes came back to me. “I’m sure you’re aware that I’ll be with Dr Jarl, and Rockslide will refuse to join you.”
[Of course. I’m sure I can survive on my own for a day.]
She hummed but didn’t respond to that. I wasn’t exactly much of a detective, but I knew well enough how to shake answers out of people. I might even get away with not getting injured if I was lucky.
As I had emptied the tank of lubricant from my backpack, we needed to find something else to fill it up before my next outing. While Clara was eager to tell me she personally didn’t have enough lube to fill it, we probably didn’t have much else around the house that could be useful in battle. She checked the internet to see if we could buy the industrial stuff in bulk, while I considered whether water could be a safe alternative in certain situations.
Once my gun maintenance was complete, we fell into idle conversation over tech ideas.
“What about a knife that pneumatically extends, and then also has tubes within the mechanism that let out a jet of air?” Clara looked up at the sky as we swung gently.
[To overload their bloodstream with air bubbles? You could probably do something similar with a cartridge that would be more effective.]
“Oh. Like a little metal puffer fish. Have it expand with hollow spikes that eject something when it detects a certain temperature and moisture - so that it functions as soon as it punctures someone.”
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
[At that point, then poison might be more useful than air. We’re reinventing the wheel again, however. Soft metal rods that would expand when striking soft targets would be deadly enough.]
Clara pouted slightly. “I suppose there’s little point in being too creative, Gunquake. As long as you have an option for killing and subduing for soft, armored, and super targets, you’re all set.”
[Where you can really help is the niche options. The edge cases for dealing with certain powers or situations that are beyond the norm.]
“I suppose we should be aiming to work with what we can.” She gave me a slight smile. “Even when we have the in-house shell maker, I don’t think we can do anything as high-tech as our imaginations are guiding us. I’m not sure I can stop breaking the law, however.”
[And why is that?]
Her head tilted slightly. “I’m sorry, Gunquake. You haven’t unlocked that dialogue option yet. It’s not a matter of trust, but my own readiness. I’m sure you can read between the lines.”
The house opening behind us interrupted any further thoughts on the matter. Probably something to do with her parents dying. An event that had shaped her life since. Amusing how the past could shackle us like that.
“Hey, nerds,” Roxy said, stepping over to us. “The machine done yet?”
It turned out that it was complete. A singular canister sat on the left side, now filled with a slightly-brown clear liquid. Given that it was about to go straight into my bloodstream, Clara assured me that it was safe - but I should limit the bullshit I tried to stick in me.
With both their eyes on me, I removed my current one to replace with the beer canister. It wasn’t as refreshing as the usual type I liked. I didn’t immediately keel over though, so that was something.
Roxy beamed. “You know what this means? I’m cooking your ass breakfast tomorrow.”
[You do realize I still can’t taste things this way?]
“Sure, but it’s more of the process. It’ll be fun for me.”
I shrugged and allowed her that. The machine could breakdown most edible things into something my body could absorb, so I’d get whatever nutrients were in her cooking, even if I couldn’t taste or enjoy it in a traditional sense. While the techie explained how to use the machine for when she wasn’t there, I stepped over to the window and looked out to the wasteland just past the house.
There was a slight buzz from the beer. I wasn’t used to alcohol, so I was probably just as much a lightweight as Clara was. It felt softer compared to how I felt back at the bar with Roy. Maybe without the sour tones of violence, it was easier to find comfort in the odd wooziness.
If anything, it mostly made me feel tired. As if it wore away all the constant turning wheels in my mind. Despite the promise of a bubble bath and some frisky time with the super, I actually just felt like getting some rest instead.
Both women were slightly disappointed when I made my intention known, but our days had been long and full of adventure as of late. I was eager to shut all that out, if only for a night.
Thanks to the canister, the rest of the process was a blur. Inside, undressed, into the soft bed—which slowly turned for some reason—and then the familiar darkness.
It was with some discomfort that I woke up the next morning, the light a little too bright for my liking. With a groan, I turned over to see the super sitting on the side of the bed. Already dressed in her gym wear, with a smile on her face.
[Feel like someone opened my skull like a clamshell and filled my insides with sand. Would murder for a-]
My sentence fell away as Roxy produced a chilled canister in her hand.
[Did I ever tell you I love you?]
“Morning, Dubs.” Her smile softened, and one hand ran along my neck, unclasping the beer canister with practised precision. Once the new one hissed into place, I couldn’t stop myself from sighing.
[Absolute bliss.]
“You should put a normal one in before bed if you’ve been drinking.” She held up the empty one to observe it. “A lesson learned the hard way, huh?”
I had luck on my side, and a pack of stims willing to pump me full of soothing painkillers to stop my head from falling into shards. Just needed some hydration, and I’d be in peak form once more. I had… an interesting day ahead.
[How are you today?]
“I’m good, Dubs. Clara has already set off - you slept in a little. I’ve got lots of training planned, as I reckon I’ll be back in the field soon enough.” She grasped at the skin near her hips. “All this fun and ice-cream is putting me off my game.”
My brow furrowed. It didn’t look as though she had changed a bit since the day I had met her. She must have seen the concern clearly in my eyes as she rolled her own.
“Don’t worry, I’m only half serious. If I want to reach for A-Rank I do have to push a little more though, mostly with my volcano shit.”
[I won’t tell you what I’m doing, but I’ll be going for a bike ride for a bit.]
“There we go then. I’ll lose the weight through worry.” The super leaned closer to cup the side of my face. “Don’t. Fucking. Die.”
I bit my non-existent tongue and didn’t say something to wind her up. Instead, I just nodded, which seemed to be enough to satisfy her. With a quick kiss on my forehead, she stood up from the bed and stretched out.
“I made you a breakfast burrito canister. You don’t have to use it because it admittedly looks kinda gross, but it’s there if you want a snack on your little adventure today.” Roxy smiled and started towards the door. “I’m going to get stuck in to my weights now, but message me later, okay? I love you.”
[I promise. Love you too.]
Still half under the covers, I turned to watch her leave. I had spent years working solo and living alone. Now I couldn’t imagine things being any other way. With both of them busy today, I did look forward to some Dubs-only action, even if part of me would miss the team-play.
Once the whole group was together, I would relish our first proper team mission. Would be like the old days… although I didn’t think that I led my old squad. Hmm. It seemed more likely I held a position that reflected my assigned class. So who would have been in charge of the ten of us?
Warrior had no immediate connection. Paladin did, but didn’t feel like we had been a religious or belief led group. Knight? Nothing. Battlemaster? No, too out there. Champion? My left arm tensed involuntarily at this thought. Something to add to the pile of question marks at the back of my head.
I shook away these thoughts. Knowing at present wouldn’t do anything to help with today’s plans. I exited the bed, got dressed, and went down to the kitchen. Breakfast canister sat on the side. It looked like liquid shit. I took it anyway, because appearances could be deceiving, and Roxy had made the earnest effort to do this for me.
Out into the garden, and it was a sunny day again. Perfect for melting away in the wastes. I went into the workshop to load up on gear. Drum full of Nerve, but enough ten-mags full of lethal ammunition to take on a small army. The heat-ray Jolt God had beamed me with hadn’t damaged my gear more than some minor warping. Maybe reduced the active life of the fabric and connections, but that shouldn’t matter.
Clara was keen to tell me that once I was a hero, the League would then replace my gear with higher quality things, anyway. I’d be even more death-resistant, but look the same.
The computer was now four doors through the encryption on the drive, and I hope that it wouldn’t be something banal or disappointing after all this buildup. A quick peek into the large side of the workshop and the scanning machine was now full of my ruined Bard tactical vest. Just to check the long-dried blood was mine, I was sure.
And that was it for me this morning. I stretched out before getting atop my bike and sent Roxy a message.
//Dubs: Heading out, will keep you updated.
No immediate response, so I flicked the bike on and rolled away. I had a long ride ahead of me, so the sooner I could get started the better. Map came up on my goggle lense, and I plotted a route. A simple enough journey.
Back to the mutants who had shot Roxy with the odd material.
Clara had called it Frauxemite. There was little useful information available publicly about it, but there were rumors over it being either from an ancient artefact that was destroyed, or a meteor that hit Othea a long time ago. Given that the first option involved magic, Clara leaned toward it being from somewhere else in the universe.
Other than partially ignoring superpowers, there was no other known use - at least from what we could research. It made me wonder if the mutants had knowingly created the rough bullets with the stuff or it was just chance. I hoped for the former, and that I could shoot enough charisma into their faces to tell me where the mine was.
And then?
Well, there was a lot a moving parts needed before I held our own version of the Sanguine stakes. This was just the domino-setting-up stage. Illegal, sure. If they wanted to stop me, then I’d be there waiting for them. Ready to burn everything down if I didn’t get my own way.
Perhaps the hangover still lingered.
At least the journey was smooth enough. I took the time to think about how best to approach Belle. Cult aside, I didn’t really know much about her supposed religion and the man who was financially backing her. Perhaps it was time to twist the arms of my newer allies.
//Gunquake: Hope you are pleased with our approval, Wren.
//Wren: You can call me Ren, Dubs. Although it sounds the same out loud, I’d prefer to think we were on first name basis now.
//Wren: And yes, I am very pleased. I know it probably feels like I had you both by the balls.
//Wren: But this will be a huge boon to the team.
//Gunquake: I believe it. In regards to that, I wondered if you’d do me a favor.
//Gunquake: As you are someone who likes to be in the know, I’d like to learn about Belle before I go to meet her.
//Wren: Pragmatic, of course.
//Wren: I’ll send some documents over shortly.
//Gunquake: Thanks, Ren.
Even if she was money orientated, she at least understood what I was trying to do. Raising each of us up would elevate the team, which meant being showered with credits and attention. It… wasn’t necessarily what I wanted, but was a stepping stone to my eventual goal.
Of being free?
It had seemed reasonable at one point. Be beyond the control of the League, even if we’d still be under the thumb of… the World Government? The motorbike wavered slightly as my concentration went off course, before I corrected.
Before long, I saw the familiar rock formations and the small outpost that we had literally kicked through not a couple of days ago. I didn’t have the drone to warn me of the land mines, and didn’t fancy walking too far in this heat - so driving right up to the front door was how this was going to go.
Foolish, sure, but I was willing to put my luck to the test.
A crack whipped through the air from the direction of the looming outpost. I flung back, pain radiating through me as the bike slid out, both of us hitting the gravel and tumbling across the warm ground. Awash with a cloud of dust, I rolled up to my feet and raised my secret weapon in the air.
My breathing came haggard as my lungs recovered from the shock. The bullet had struck my upper chest, skimming through my collarbone and over my cybernetic neck. Wasn’t too damaging due to my outfit and the distance. Their firearms were just a pale imitation - but now I was a sitting duck.
So I walked forward, my left arm up, waving a white flag even though it ached. Hadn’t broken anything in my tumble, but was certainly bruised up. I waited for the inevitable follow-up shot. Instead, there were muffled yells.
I was sweating something fierce beneath my coat and balaclava. My eyes were trained on their newly-built sniper tower even as I stood my bike back up. It had a defensive shield I could pop up, but my reactions weren’t quick enough to stop a bullet. I didn’t want to seem like a threat.
A difficult sell.
The only thing more surprising than reaching the front gates without earning a new speed hole through my skull was the fact that they understood and were honoring the white flag. Assuming they didn’t have a plan to capture and eat me alive, of course. That would probably be an awkward message to have to send to Roxy.
“Green-gas,” a voice shrieked from what I assumed was the top ladder above the closed metal gates. A bald head poked up, scaled on one side, two bright eyes full of ire for me. “Why have you returned? To slay more of us?”
[I have come to discuss something - a trade.]
The mysterious man pulled a face before looking down away from me to people behind the door. The sound of muffled arguing came through as I stepped off my bike and stretched my weary legs out.
“Is the Crimson-bitch still with you?”
[No… we are no longer allies.]
At least, in this matter, it was the truth. My eyes went back up to the shadowed tower, where the glint of a long weapon prodded through metal slats - pointing directly at me. Perhaps if this all went wrong, I’d tell her what they had called her.
The head reappeared. “We already have enough problems thanks to you, Green-gas. Did the Jaded Tusks send you?”
I shook my head.
[You have access to mining a certain mineral. I want a part of that.]
He vanished again to argue amongst the others. I noticed that the walls of the outpost were slightly different from the last time I was here. There were now jutting metal panels like castle ramparts all around - I’d just caught the sight of another mutant hiding behind one off to the side. Rusted razor-wire sat around the base of the outer wall. Was it a response to Roxy and I coming in and destroying them?
The gates opened, a clunk and grinding sound that made me twitch in reflex. No immediate violence came my way, as instead it revealed a dozen or so mutants standing waiting for me - armed and with makeshift armor on.
At the front was the speaker, now revealed to have one arm on the scaled side that looked like a bird’s talon. He had a wide stance, with slightly longer legs that fit the rest of his body. His armor was better fabricated than the others, but still dusty and rusting in places. With his humanoid hand, he gestured me forward.
“I am Hear-guts, Green-gas.” With his nod, the gates started to close behind me. “You have many testicles for returning after murdering so many of us.”
[It is surprising you are willing to give me a chance.]
“Desperation is a wet pillow when you really want a soft bosom, but better than sleeping against sharp stones.” Hear-guts grinned, revealing oddly shaped teeth. “Your massacre weakened us, and now another tribe seeks to erase us from the grace of the eternal warmth.”
[Would that be the Jaded Tusks?]
He nodded and the smile sunk from his expression. “If you want the secret mine, city-scum, there is one thing you can do for us…”
I knew what it would be before he even said it. The worst thing was, I felt butterflies in my stomach at the prospect. Excitement in my core.
“Join us in the fight and kill the invaders. They’re already on the way.”