Originally posted on Spacebattles, each chapter is a stand-alone one-shot vignette (or omake if you prefer the term) based on Copacetic by Materia-Blade, a Taylor Hebert fanfiction continuation of Worm. If you haven't read Copacetic, it is located here:

fanfiction dot net/s/10063793/1/Copacetic

A more up-to-date version of Copacetic is available on Spacebattles.

Minimal spoilers ahead….

Copacetic picks up where Worm leaves off. Taylor and her father have been exiled to Earth Delet, where Taylor recovers physically, starts college, makes friends, and begins to regain powers, both old and new. Even her father begins to show some unusual abilities.

With Taylor likely to become more powerful than ever, I thought it would be fun to project ahead to what the end game might eventually be.

Game Over

"Hi there. Long time no see," I said as I looked around. "Nice office."

"Taylor!" exclaimed a very surprised Miss Militia as she pressed a silent alarm under her desk. "How the hell did you get in here? For that matter, how are you even still alive?"

"Oh, it's a long story, but I'm better now," I said lightly before staring Miss Militia directly in the eyes. "Much better in fact."

Unnerved, Miss Militia stood up quickly, knocking her rolling chair back against the credenza behind her with a clatter. She held up her hands as an M134 minigun appeared. "You were never granted amnesty, Taylor," she said quietly. "I'm afraid I cannot allow you to leave."

The expression on Miss Militia's face was priceless as I laughed. "Always handy with a weapon. An interesting adaptation. I could change that for you, you know."

Miss Militia frowned with suspicion. "What do you mean?" she asked warily. It had been nearly thirty seconds since she had pressed the panic alarm. Where was her backup?

"Your power," I replied. I smiled to myself as I noticed Miss Militia's nervous glance at the door. We were not going to be interrupted. "I can change that for you. Improve it, lift the Manton limit if you like, change your shard's instructions to produce flowers instead of weapons, or banish it entirely. You could be normal again."

For a moment, Miss Militia seemed to seriously consider what I said, but then I saw it - a hardening of her expression. Oh well, it had been worth a try.

"As intriguing as that sounds, I think I'll stay the way I am," she said slowly. "And I'm afraid standing orders are for you to be shot on sight if you should ever make an appearance." She shook her head. "I'm sorry to be the one to do this to you."

Miss Militia fired the minigun, it's roar earsplittingly loud in the enclosed office.

It didn't matter - I was already prepared for the possibility. I simply stood there and smiled as the bullets turned into butterflies and began to fly around the room in intricate patterns. It was a very pretty display.

The minigun made a whining sound as it spun to a stop. The silence was nearly as stunning as the noise it made. Miss Militia stared hard. "How?" she finally managed to ask.

"Your weapons are all manifestations of your shard - your ability. The gun is not a real gun, and the bullets are not real bullets. I can control them, change them. So you see, when I say I can change you - well really, change your passenger - I mean it."

Miss Militia dropped her minigun, which vanished before it hit the floor. She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a revolver. "This happens to be a real gun. So what you're saying is, you cannot change real bullets."

"Not as such-" I started to say when Miss Militia opened fire.

Really?

I waited until the revolver clicked on an empty casing. "But I can protect myself," I finished. "Nice personal force field, don't you think? It's a trick I picked up from my dad."

Miss Militia took a step back, sitting abruptly in her chair. She was breathing hard, as if she'd just finished a morning run. "What do you want?" she asked after several long seconds of silence as she worked to calm herself down.

I smiled and stretched. "A cup of coffee would be nice," I replied. "Cream, no sugar. I'm just here to drop by and say hello to old friends and colleagues. But when it comes to stuff like you guys trying to hurt me or my friends? I have just one thing to say to that."

I leaned over the desk, holding Miss Militia's undivided attention as I stared her down.

"Game over."