"You're on your usual patrol route and it's starting to get late. You're on your way back when Console calls you and says someone's reported possible parahuman activity at a nearby convenience store. The chance is low, but you and your partner head over anyway to check it out," Harrison paused to wet his lips, tongue leaving a tiny drop of spit in the corner of his moustache. "You get there and there's no obvious parahuman, but, you do see a nervous looking young man, and you can also see that a corner of his jacket is heavily weighed down and he looks like he's trying to hide it. How do you respond?"

I stared blankly. Why had we never had anything like this in Brockton? Every three months here they got a little training course, but never in Brockton. The only reason I got any extra training was because of Armsmaster, but it wasn't on stuff like this and I'd never heard from anyone else that they got trained like this.

The police had an academy, but I had absolutely no idea if the protectorate did too. Maybe it did, just not in Brockton? And nobody in Brockton got to hear about it? I felt the gears in my brain grind to a halt, I had to be missing something.

Jetstar kicked my foot under the table, "we approach and tell him to empty his pockets."

"I think you should take point and ask the guy running the store about the call in," I said, resisting the urge to kick her back. She was as smoking hot as Tyrone said, but I wasn't really into bossy chicks. "And let me feel out the guy."

"The store owner is a dead end who got spooked," she shook her head vigorously. "There obviously aren't any capes here, therefore we get this guy to show his gun and hold him for the cops."

"Yeah, maybe it is a gun but we don't want to scare the guy and have him shoot someone-"

"I'm fully armoured and you said you had combat thinker powers, versus one guy with a pea shooter. He can't do anything to us, and if he tries we arrest. It's that easy."

I understood the need to flex your massive dick and make sure everyone knew it, but that was too much of an early, low confidence Greg move and this was clearly an exercise to help us understand alternative methods of policing that weren't beating up bad guys; especially since we were Wards and the data said people don't like that so much. Most of the time, unless it was one of those daytime talk-show scenarios where a kid shoots a robber and everyone coos over how brave they were.

I picked at the edge of our work paper with a thumbnail, glancing over at where Tyrone sat with Lily; lucky bastard. I bet Lily knew how to handle suspect dudes with a little tact and rationality.

"Is that what your classes in New York said to do?"

Jetstar leant back in her chair, put her hands behind her head and kicked one leg up over the other, a superior smirk that really worked on her sexy lips. "You can't always do what they tell you."

As grateful as I was my visor hid my eyes I wrenched my view away from her confidently puffed out chest, "oh yeah, I know what that's like. Absolutely we could deal with it if he had a gun, easily before he even gets his finger on the trigger. I'm more thinking about what happens to that guy-"

"Even if we give him a chance to go before he commits a crime, he's just going to commit one later. Someone who's going to rob a convenience store isn't going to shape up because we turned up."

"Jail is fucked, though," I said, pouting. "He'll go from armed robbery to worrying about dropping soap."

"Yeah, it is shit," Jetstar leant forward again, putting her elbows on our desk. "It's where you go for committing crimes though, and the guy knows that. Telling him won't make a difference."

"This is still all assuming he has a gun and is going to commit a crime, which is what I was angling for at the start where you go and talk to the owner while I use my thinker powers to see if he has a gun or if he's just nervous."

"And if he does and flips out, you can handle it?"

"Of course," I said.

"Ok," Jetstar spread her hands out, showing me her palms. "We'll do it like that. By the way, what are your powers? Combat and social thinker? Flechette said you learned Japanese with your powers, and you're clearly also some kind of brute and mover. Grab Bag?"

I mirrored her leant in posture, making sure to shift my chair so I was exactly forty five degrees from hers. "Power stacking trump."

Jetstar frowned slightly, her head cocking to one side. "Were you Dauntless?"

I huffed.

"No, Dauntless is a different guy. And he's, like, twenty five."

"But you're also a stacking trump?"

"Yes."

"As in, power goes up?" she traced a line in the air with her finger that started on a sharp incline and slowly leveled off to near flat.

"Yes."

"What kinds of powers?"

"I have a list," I said, poking a dozen dot points in the air. "But uh, we do have that big group spar soon so I don't want to give too much away."

"Yeah, fair's fair," she said after a moments pause, then deliberately turned to her answer sheet and scribbled out my plan. "You're still going to lose, so I can see why you'd want to have a surprise ready."

"Bold words coming from the losing team."

"And big talk coming from a team with no specialisation, we're going to wipe the floor with you."

"You say that," I said. "But I'm going to be Triumvirate one day."

Jetstar tilted her head back skeptically. "You serious?"

I nodded.

"Whatever, dude. Come back when you can break the sound barrier and shoot lasers," she jabbed at her chest with her thumb. "Then we'll talk."

"And what if I already can?" I challenged.

Jetstar leant way into my personal space and poked my shoulder roughly. "Prove it."

A hot flush of shame started to creep up my neck and as I was about to shut my mouth my head split.

We don't have to take this.

I was right, I didn't. I was going to be Triumvirate some day. The speed would come, but lasers would be easy.

"Give me a minute," I sneered, settling into a more comfortable sitting position and activating my meditation skill. Both minds focused inward as I delved into the calm lake of my mana, all the way to the bottom. I breathed evenly, circulating it around me, drawing in in and out in slow fluxuating pulses, each one condensing further into a specific point on my body. The mana started to crystalise so I let it go and started again, it needed to stay in a malleable state. My energy gathered again, loose and flowing, too loose, I compressed as far as I could-

You have created the spell 'Beam'!

Beam has been added to Basic Spellcraft!

Opened my eyes, pointed at the wall and let fly. A thin, bright blue laser burst from my fingertip and hit the wall with the sound of spitting oil, burning a little black smudge on the paint.

I grinned at Jetstar victoriously, savoring her sour expression.

"OI!"

I flinched and looked up at Harrison. His moustache bristled as he strode over to our desk, looming with crossed arms of disappointment.

"That's one strike. Two more and you're out of here."

"Sorry, sir," I cringed into my chair.

He exhaled loudly through his nose in extra disappointment, "ok, everyone switch partners again. Come on, quick."

I gave Jetstar one last lingering look of superiority before swiping my papers, getting up and moving to sit with Pinstripe.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"Stuff," I shrugged.

"Alright! Next scenario!" Harrison called from back on his perch, a big desk at the front of the conference room. "You're in the park and you come across a few teenage boys making a fire under a tree. It's late autumn and there's a lot of dry leaves about and you're certain you just saw one of them light it by clicking his fingers; how do you respond?"

"Come on!" I cheered, jogging backward over the mud pit like it was sand. "That's it!"

Hunch gasped for breath, his caveman jaw hanging loose as he clawed his way through the mud that threatened to suck him down. Just in front of him Daisy dragged herself out of the pit, eyes sunken into her head with exhaustion, and flopped onto the grass. When Hunch got close enough she limply held out a hand to drag him the last, hardest step.

"Awesome work guys!" I clapped enthusiastically, patting them on the back and lifting them back onto their feet. "You're almost there."

I looked up ahead, up the other nine kilometers of obstacle course, and then back to them. Hunch and Daisy, being strictly non-combatants, had both skipped out on one too many gym sesh's.

They groaned inarticulately.

"Doing great!" I gave them a beaming smile and pulled them forward. "I'll be back in a sec."

I turned and set off at a quick run. Our activity for today was a 'Tough Mudder' style course, which while it was easy as pie for me it was gruelling for everyone without a brute power, thus making it my job to inspire the team to victory. I hopped over a six foot wall and sprinted up a punishingly steep, slippery hill.

"Lookin' fit, buddy," I slapped Tyrone on the back, almost sending him sprawling down the slick hill.

"Fuck," he gasped, swiping wildly at me with one hand and anchoring himself on a tuft of grass with his other. "Off!"

I laughed and grabbed his hand, hauling him up the hill and setting him gently down at the peak, "less cards more cardio, fagboi."

He made to swipe at me again but I jumped backward, skating down the other side of the hill and continuing on until I reached the gaggle that was Valerie, Fred, Norm, Jetstar, Noodle, Shaman and Bangarang all trying to balance across a pair of elastic bands stretched over a pool of murky brown water with varying levels of success.

Weld was somewhere up ahead and I had a feeling he skipped this one on account of weighing a few hundred kilos. Man, fuck Cauldron.

Shaman slipped on one foot, the sudden change of balance sending the rubber bands twanging as he fell into the muddy water with a strangled gasp. He surfaced, wiping grit off his face as the equally gritty assembled group made sympathetic noises and encouragement while he pulled himself out and retook his place in the line.

Valerie, the next in line, approached the bands. She crouched down and gingerly crawled her hands out, one on each band, and then carefully placed her right foot down only to immediately slip and fall face first into the water.

The audience made more sympathetic noises.

This wouldn't do. I hopped forward, gliding through the air, the bands bouncing me gently as I landed with one foot on each. I put my hands on my hips, inhaled deeply, and sighed.

"Come on Boston Gang, we know New York Gang are losers but they're pretty much tied with us. We needs them gloating rights! Imagine us at the end of the week having finally beaten them! Boston Gang rise up!"

"Losers?!" Bangarang shouted, pushing forward and readying herself in front of the bands. "Eat shit and die, we're going to win!"

I kept my feet on the bands, steadying them as she started her crawl, fighting a powerful urge to do the splits when she was halfway. That was Old Greg behaviour and I hadn't illegally downloaded a pdf of How to Win Friends and Influence People for nothing. I slowly walked back as she approached, shooting a smile to the other side-

+1 WIS!

+1 CHA!

Ok, I was doing the right thing, ignore the bad thoughts. It's not your fault.

I kept my smile plastered on-

Acting has leveled up!

And kept stabilising the bands. I stepped back onto the bank and moments later Bangarang clawed her way up, taking a moment to catch her breath before shooting me a dirty look and jogging away, taking care to jostle me with her elbow. But that was fine, I'd upset her knowing she was hyper-competitive.

I hopped back onto the bands as Jetstar, apparently not to be outdone on anything, practically leapt forward to be next. I looked over my shoulder at Bangarang, and then past her to where Lily was, too far to be visible. My god would I have loved to watch her crawl towards me.