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Chapter 3: Snake eater

=KroganDragon=

Part 1

=KroganDragon=

11 April 2011

Brockton Bay

If I wanted Coil's base and assets intact, dealing with him would a bit more complicated than headbutting my way through his base of operations in one timeline. Then, kidnapping, and convincing him to choose another when he was playing being Tomas Calvert. Unless I fished for a Master power, which could turn out to be messy for everyone involved, I would need more mundane minions just in case. Gathering some actionable intelligence would be in order either way.

Thus, the pressing question was simple – did I visit the local powered mercenary crew and try to contact them first, or go after the Undersiders and subvert them? The latter, especially Tattletale, would be a useful source of intelligence, one I would use in conjunction with thinker powers before acting against Coil. However, contacting the Undersiders first ran the risk of alerting the snake in the grass.

Logically, the mercenaries came first.

I fished for a thinker and a flight power while pondering on how to handle Faultline's crew. If I had more money available, I might try for a straightforward business transaction. Another option was to search for a power that would allow me to create precious metals or something in that vein. A third way to gain their allegiance was to offer both support in the form of Krogan backup, and my services in dealing with their Case 53 issues. With the right power, it might be possible to get them normal-looking bodies if they wished it or even recover their memories. Of course, the latter ran the risk of indirectly alerting Cauldron that I was messing up with things better left laying for now.

Decisions, decisions…

Yet another angle was to set up the mercenaries against Coil anyway. That might even work if I could handle it just right…

A flight power slotted in, and I rose in the air like a balloon. This was obviously less than ideal. I focused and eventually slowly touched down. I dismissed the flight power and went searching for a more convenient one.

It took me four attempts and a few minutes of frustration to get a good enough self-sustained flight. Perhaps with experience, finding powers better suited to my needs would be easier. For the time being, I would need to keep in mind that I might not get what I needed when I needed it.

On the bright side, I got a thinker power that allowed me to locate Faultline's crew on the second try. The first attempt got me an x-ray vision. While useful, it would have taken too long to scout the city for the target.

I was already in the air when I recalled that Faultline and company had a rather famous club in the city. I could have just asked someone for directions… That's why I spent a few minutes just flying around and grumbling to myself for not thinking things through, before calming down and heading for the Palanquin. That was the name, right?

The club itself wasn't anything to write home about. Outside, it looked more tasteful than some, though there were too many neon lights and such for my taste. At a first glance, the most notable thing about it was the location – it was on a top of a small hill, making it vaguely resemble a fortress.

This early in the morning, the place was closed. The only sign of life was a janitor cleaning outside and chatting with a tired-looking bouncer who was busy draining an energy drink. My landing made them both look my way. The janitor was an old, graying man who just shrugged and kept cleaning. The bouncer looked warily at me. He was built like a wardrobe – large, thick, and not necessarily particularly bright. Nothing out of the ordinary there, though he appeared more competent, and alert than the trash you could find protecting various dumps all over the galaxy.

"I have business with Faultline." I rumbled good-naturedly and even flashed him a reassuring smile.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, sir." The bouncer announced politely, but firmly.

"Call your boss. I have a business proposition." Trying to roll my eyes at him didn't quite work out.

The bouncer kept staring at me for a few long moments before slowly pulling out a thick phone and calling someone, presumably one of the mercenaries.

"Boss, there's a Case 53 here looking for Faultline. Yes. You can go inside and head to the bar. Someone will meet you there." The bouncer grumbled.

"See, it wasn't that hard!" I cheerfully waved at him and strode into the club.

Inside, it wasn't anything groundbreaking either. It was kind of neat, but, it wouldn't have been able to impress me even before I got Wrex's memories. I guess that the service and the allure of meeting capes in safe-ish conditions to have fun would be the primary selling points.

I went past the empty dancing floor and looked over a long wooden bar. Unless I tried to drink everything I could see, I doubted anything on display could give me more than a buzz. There was a reason why Krogan preferred ryncol if it was available. It wasn't because we wanted to show everyone how tough we were by drinking that radioactive rotgut. All the redundant organs and secondary nervous system made trying to get drunk with regular booze an exercise in frustration.

Well, unless you were a pyjak fresh out of the egg, but I digress.

The first Case 53 I saw appeared very odd. It was almost as if the poor bastard had spent too long in one of the hot areas on Tuchanka, then contacted a terminal case of parasites. He was a short bald man, with almost transparent skin. Looking closer, I could make the shadow of his skeleton even if there was no bright light shining behind him to make it easier. Odd growth covered his patchy skin, making my fingers clench for the handle of a flamethrower.

The parahuman took a swipe from a large mug of coffee and stared at me.

"I'm Gregor. What do you want with the boss?" He looked me over in interest. "Do you want to join or just have questions about what we are?"

"I'm a Krogan." I declared with no small amount of pride. "I have a business proposition for your crew."

"A krogan, not Krogan?" Gregor raised a non-existent eyebrow in question.

"Name's Wrex. Urdnot Wrex. Take me to your leader."

=KroganDragon=

Part 2

=KroganDragon=

11 April 2011

The Palanquin

Brockton Bay

The odd Case 53 stared at me as if I was crazy or something then chuckled.

"You've been dying to use that line ever since you awoke as one of us, weren't you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I denied primly. Besides, I was now an honest to God alien! If anyone had the right to use this cliche, it would be me!

"Right, and I'm the Queen of England." Gregor kept chuckling.

"I'm not joking, you know. I do have a business proposition for your crew." I fought back a growl that threatened to escape my throat. Even at the best of times, a Krogan wasn't the most patient of people.

"And I'm still waiting to hear a reason why should I bother the boss." Gregor stopped chuckling and leveled a pointed look at me.

"I have information your group might find valuable and potential means to either get your memories back or at least figure out what happened to you."

Gregor narrowed his eyes at me. "I've heard that one before. Many times at that."

"I'm a Trump. I can get what powers I want from a pool of semi-random powers. Testing at the PRT a few days ago confirmed it. With the right powers, I should be able to either restore your memories or use thinker abilities to figure out what happened. Do I have your attention now, Gregor the Snail?"

"I'll need a demonstration. This is a bold claim you make, friend." Now I did have his undivided attention.

I let go of the powers I had slotted and grinned widely at the Cape 53. For some odd reason, he didn't find it reassuring. Something quick to make a point… I grabbed a Stranger power, followed by one that would allow me to shape energy. My grin was still in place when I vanished from sight, making Gregor step back and raise his hands in a defensive stance. A moment later, I carefully activated the second power and willed it to come to life in the form of a bird made of electricity.

A large avian vaguely shaped like a raven came into existence above the dancing floor. It stood there, flapping on wings made of cracking lighting.

Gregor looked at the energy construct and grunted. I used the distraction to walk behind him.

"Is that enough, or should I see if there is a power that would allow me to turn you into a real snail just to make a point?"

To his credit, Gregor didn't quite jump. However, he froze for a moment, then carefully looked over his shoulder. I kept grinning at him and shaped a second lighting construct. This one hovered above my shoulder cracking merrily.

"You've got odd powers, all right. The boss will want a demonstration too. I bet." He glanced between the lighting birds. "Something very different at that."

"My word's good," I grumbled. "Is the dick measuring contest over now?"

Gregor snorted and walked past me. "Wait here, I'll speak with Faultline."

I let go of the Stranger power and carefully leaned on the bar, which groaned under my bulk. The ability to shape energy was fascinating, and I wondered what I could do with it. What were its limits? How much raw power I could draw from it? That wasn't something I could test here without turning this visit in a monumental waste of time.

I dismissed those thoughts and one of the constructs, letting the second one circle me for effect. While what I told Gregor was true, and even without my memories, I would likely be able to get them the information they wanted, the question was, should I? Sooner or later, I would run into Cauldron. However, I wasn't in a particular hurry on that front. I wanted both reputation and experience with my power on my side before engaging with them for any reason.

It might not matter in the short term. I could always claim that I couldn't get the right powers to do the job properly at this time. Then I would string the mercenaries along until it might be safe-ish to give them what they wanted. At any rate, I wasn't going to risk dropping Contessa on them, with all the complications that entailed while Coil was still a factor.

A few minutes later, Gregor returned with two women. He and a slim figure in a red and black suit flanked their presumed leader. The girl to the right had an odd, old-fashioned gas mask concealing her features.

Faultline at least had something resembling armor. Or at least, an outfit that an Asari cos-player might find worthy of wearing. A welder's mask hid her face, and something looking like riot gear provided protection. A cape and half-skirt made the outfit less sensible than it would be otherwise. At least, the combat boots she wore looked sturdy and comfortable so bonus points there.

"You've made some bold claims, stranger." Faultline declared in a boisterous voice as they approached.

"As I told your man, my word's good." I flashed the trio a toothy grin. "I'm here to talk business, not to swap pleasantries."

"So I've been told. I'm Faultline, the leader of this group of misfits. What do you want, and what do you offer in exchange?"

"I offer information and money. Perhaps muscle, if you need it during a future job. In exchange, I would like to hire your services in removing a certain thorn in everyone's side." I happily explained.

"Elaborate."

"Fifty thousand as a down payment. Once the job is complete, I'll use my free time to get the appropriate powers to restore the memories of your Case 53 crew members. If that proves impossible, I'll use various thinker abilities to figure out what happened to them. Perhaps both."

"I'll need a demonstration on the fact that you're as versatile a Trump as you claim to be. Details on the job you want us to do as well."

"Demonstration or details first?" I inquired filled my free slots with powers.

A moment later, I blinked into existence behind the three Parahumans.

"Let's get the demonstration out of the way, first," I announced.

The red-clad woman swirled around and the front of her gas mask glowed ominously red.

"That's new," Gregor concluded.

I blinked again, returning to my previous position. Next, I used telekinesis to pull a bottle of amber liquid from the bar. I sniffed at it and glanced at the label. It was expensive and unfortunately, practically worthless rotgut. I doubted that draining the whole bottle would give me more than a brief buzz.

Interestingly enough, using this power felt almost like using my biotics but not quite. It lacked the familiar tingling and feedback of the eezo nodules along my nervous systems firing up and sparkling with energy.

I floated the bottle back to its place and returned my undivided attention to the mercenaries.

"You're a Trump all right." Faultline nodded. "What do you need to be done? From what I see, you can handle yourself pretty well."

"First, some context. One of your local troublemakers, Coil has been a very busy boy. A very bad snake too." I cheerfully explained. "He's a Thinker with a very curious power. He can run two simultaneous timelines, choose the one he wants, discards the other but still remembers what happened in it. So for example, let's say that in one timeline he is safe in the home, doing what smug villains do to relax…" I began my story, while three pairs of eyes stared at me. I didn't need to see Faultline and the other woman's eyes to notice their growing apprehension.

I could smell it. Gregor, on the other hand, did look a bit sick. I was sure he was guessing already where I was going.

"In the other timeline, Coil sends a bunch of his tinker-tech armed mercenaries to kidnap a few people. He tortures them for information, and either when he has what he wants, or response busts down his door, he drops that timeline, and retains the information. You know, information about the civilian identities of every known Parahuman in the city, PRT and Protectorate passwords and protocols, etc… In the same regard, every time he has his people do a major job, he can try again and again until he gets an outcome he deems good enough."

I didn't have to spell it to them that Coil undoubtedly had a chat or ten with Faultline's crew, knew their identities and secrets.

"I'm pretty sure I can take him out with the right combination of powers. What I can't guarantee is that if I'm by myself he wouldn't be able to throw the whole city into chaos as a final fuck you. I'm certain he has fail-safes that would release all kinds of uncomfortable information. Like the Empire Eighty Eights identities and blame it either on the ABB, PRT, or even you people. As a final fuck you to everyone if nothing else."

While Gregor's horrified expression said it all, the way the woman in red trembled and Faultline had frozen in place, was more than telling. I was sure that they could vividly imagine what would have happened to them in a throw-away timeline.

"How do you know any of this?" Faultline eventually asked, her voice nearly cracking.

"While testing the scope of my powers, I stumbled on very interesting precognition. It gave me a snap-shot centered on Brockton Bay and notable events that would have happened before my appearance." It was even true, from a certain point of view. "That's how I know of Coil, who he is, what he does, and that he has the PRT compromised to hell and back."

"You know his real identity." At that, Faultline sounded a bit happier.

"Among other things, yes."

The three mercenaries looked at each other.

"I'll call the rest of the crew and brief them. You've got our attention." Faultline shuddered once before retaking control of herself."Tell us all you know about Coil."

"Well, you can start calling him Tom…"

=KroganDragon=

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