Taylor
April 23rd, 2011
T+6 Days

The metal boot slid onto Taylor's foot before it self-tightened, matching the right already in place. It was strange getting into her suit, considering the boots went on before the rest. Taylor pushed her arms into the sleeves, stepping forward and pushing her body against the opening before lining her legs up. The first layer closed around her bare calves as she tried not to think about her clothes or the lack of them.

In Taylor's mind, she knew clothes created creases, and having them under such form-fitting armor would only make her uncomfortable at best and cut off circulation at worst. That didn't mean it enthused her to walk around in only her underwear under the armor. A sentiment shared by both Missy and Tammi, but none of them even considered going without the suits.

The back closed next after the legs as it pulled tight, slightly constricting Taylor as it did everywhere. Only the comfortable, padded, and self-cleaning inside layer kept it bearable for long periods. It was always the perfect temperature, and it wicked away any sweat she built up. She carefully did not consider the long-term wear functions, as she vowed till the day she died she wouldn't use them.

Once the inner layer finished closing, the armored panels sealed over the inner layer and kept a slight separation between the two. It reduced any heat or electricity transmission because of the vacuum while also acting as spaced armor for anything that penetrated. A part of Taylor appreciated how the chest contained the vital components and hid how small her breasts were, even more so with how Tammi's and Missy's looked the same in general shape, giving nothing away about what was under it.

Taylor shifted her arms, feeling the armor flow around her movements as interlinking panels slid over others in a rippling motion that never left a part uncovered. At first, she doubted how well it would stand up to damage if a plate bent and became stuck, locking whatever area in place, but that was quickly disproved because it wasn't pure metal. Instead, it was a metallic ceramic that almost matched diamonds in hardness but was far less brittle, yet the panels wouldn't deform past the point of return.

They either absorbed the damage or shattered while bleeding off the incoming energy. Something about a continuous molecular chain, or she didn't know. It all flew past her after a point. It had nothing to do with a beefcake standing in front of a furnace without a shirt and molding metal while he talked about far less interesting things. What a sight.

Taylor shook her head, removing herself from the gutter she fell into, and finished moving her limbs around. Once everything felt right, the lock that kept the armor upright on the stand, disengaged and put the weight on her momentarily before artificial muscles removed the strain. It was a shame that they only compensated for the armor weight and didn't make her any stronger.

Even though it did nothing for Taylor's overall strength, she held up her hand and formed a fist; it made her feel indomitable. Then, she pulled back her fist and punched the concrete wall with everything she had. A dull thud rang out amid a spray of dust, and she only felt a brief jarring sensation. Each day she put on the suit, she did the same thing, just to remind herself that it wasn't a dream. But she wished the gloves didn't keep her fingers splayed; it was a price to pay for protection combined with mobility.

Taylor grabbed the helmet from the charging station, deliberating if she should put it on before tucking it under her arm. She'd enjoy having her hair out for a while longer before being locked up for the eighteen-hour day. On her way out of her room, she momentarily paused before the hanging mirror that Miles salvaged from her old room.

In the mirror wasn't a gawky teenager, but a hero, doing good. Taylor ran an armored finger down the side of her face and smiled. No glasses in sight.

Taylor stepped out into the hallway, closed the door behind her, and set off to get some food. Today was a big day for her, and she wanted to start it off right. The door to Missy's room tore inwards before she stepped out and slammed it shut. Armor like Taylor's adorned her, but instead of gray on black, it was green on white and without any decorations. It matched her old costume, but instead of a skirt, she had armored pants. Like Taylor, Missy held her helmet under her arm.

Taylor smiled at her teammate. "Good morning!" She chirped.

Baggy eyes twitched at her, lips down-turned in a scowl, with strands of blond hair sticking up in every direction. "I hate you." Missy turned away and stomped off.

Taylor almost missed a step before catching herself and running after Missy. "Are you ready for our big day?" She asked, not letting Missy's words get to her.

Missy sucked in a breath, stopped walking, and turned towards Taylor. "Okay, how are you so peppy all the time? At five in the morning, after working until midnight, you have a smile on your fucking face every moment of the day. I've only been working for a day, and I'm so tired. Four hours! That's how much sleep I got!"

"Oh, right?" Taylor awkwardly laughed. She was already used to having never-ending energy from the implants and constantly feeling well-rested. Damn, she sucked as a leader. "I don't suppose Rose or Miles gave you anything like a patch?"

"No! Miles fixed my ears, and that's it."

Taylor bit her lip, remembering the conversation she had with Miles on the way back from the PRT. She handled her team, and when she recruited Missy, it was up to her to deal with everything. That included requesting help and doing anything else Miles or Rose would typically do. Tammi was originally under Miles' care, and he fixed her up and gave her some improvements to go with it. The armored suit was almost required to work around the hangar area, with the coilgun firing hundreds of times a day. "Ah, so you know how I have artificial body parts?"

"Yes."

"So, they might be more than just replacements."

Missy's face went blank. "What about Tammi?"

"Well-" Taylor scratched her cheek, "she might've been in pieces at one point. So Miles did some upgrades when he put her back together."

"Are you telling me I've been working my ass off trying to keep up with you two, thinking I was just weak and lazy? But instead, you have literal tinkertech keeping you going?"

"Yeah."

Missy shook her free hand at Taylor before turning back around, space warping as she stepped to the end of the hallway. The distortion dissolved before Taylor could follow, and she could only stand there as Missy slammed the door to the kitchen. Taylor cringed, speed-walking down the hall while trying to find a good way to fix the problem. It wasn't like she could promise to have Miles give Missy the same benefits, nor was it okay for someone as young as Missy to have parts of her replaced.

Taylor blinked at her own hypocrisy, deciding for other people without even asking their opinion, something that she despised when it happened to her. She was Missy's team leader, not her parent. It should be up to Missy, and it wasn't like Taylor knew what Miles could do or if age limited his improvements. She steeled herself, placing her helmet on before connecting with Miles.

"Yo." Miles' computer-generated voice instantly answered. It bothered her sometimes, but she understood that neither he nor Rose had time to respond in person all the time.

Taylor coughed into her hand, licking her lips. It somewhat galled her to ask for help, but it was her responsibility. "Um, so, you know how, um, the… implants help me?"

"Yes…"

"Ah, would it," Taylor took a calming breath, "would it be possible for Missy to, um, get some of those benefits?" Butterflies filled her stomach as she turned to the nearest wall and headbutted it in embarrassment. Her helmet bounced off with a dull thud.

"Which ones?"

"The not needing to sleep and energy ones."

"...just give her a patch like every other worker is using."

"But what about her age? She's only twelve."

"And?"

"Wouldn't it, um, mess with," God, Taylor felt like she was about to die by saying this. "puberty?" She whispered.

Miles' true voice cracked in with a boisterous laugh that made Taylor want to die some more. "No, it's okay; in fact, it would streamline the whole ordeal with higher lows and lower highs. Maybe even ease the growing pains. Hmm, that'd be interesting to watch. I wonder if it could be condensed into a short period or guided to produce an end result different from what genetics would allow? Could I turn a midget into a giant without excessive tampering? Such possibilities."

Taylor recoiled as an intense wave focused in on her, standing the hairs on the back of her neck as some primal instinct screamed that she should run as far away as possible. She focused her bug's senses on Miles as he put down his tools and blitzed his way out of the hangar.

Trepidation filled Taylor as she stepped back; her mind flashed back to the first day she met him as he examined her like an object to be fixed or changed. Two steps, and Miles was already out of the main hangar and in the entryway. Another step and she saw him enter the hallway next to the kitchen. One more had him halfway to her, a force already pressing against her armor as she gave up. There was no escape now. Instead, she called Rose.

"Help! Miles is doing that thing again!"

Instead of answering, her headset played Rose laughing at her. The indignity!

Taylor left the ground as Miles stopped well within her personal space. Then her helmet came off, as the locks disengaged. Dread filled her as she met the crazed eyes, pupils narrowed to pinpricks. Her armored suit followed, with the armored panels and undersuit splitting into their constituent parts, leaving her in only her underwear, floating in midair. Miles hummed as he stroked his chin, nodding once in a while to some unheard question.

"Mini-Taylor-" God, how she hated that name. "How would you like to match Rose?" Miles asked, a warble in his voice making her feel like an ant next to a whale. A peasant kneeling before a king. A question that couldn't be lied to, and one that tapped into insecurities she thought she'd left behind.

It took a moment under the intense gaze for Taylor to find her voice. Miles examined her in minute detail, but thankfully he didn't touch her this time. "Match her how?" She squeaked.

Miles leaned closer, his nose almost touching hers. "How would you like to?"

"Height?" He nodded, "Muscles? …figure?"

"That and MORE!"

At this point, the pressure bore down on Taylor, and even if she were on the fence, she would've agreed, but she wasn't. There was no option but to accept. "Okay." She whispered.

A smile that stretched too wide not to be creepy spread from one ear to the other across Miles' face. He nodded, the insanity leaving his eyes as he stood up straight and lowered Taylor to the ground. "Come by the hangar each day before you go to sleep." His eyes ran up and down her body. "Ah, sorry about that. Let me."

Taylor closed her eyes as the armored suit reassembled around her, her helmet landing in her hands. She fought down the blush unsuccessfully, her cheeks burning as she opened her eyes, trying to focus her best glare on Miles. Ringing laughter filled her head, coming from the traitor, as the traitor pushed memories into her head that she did her damnedest to fight down and not affect her. "Could you, please, not strip me again."

Miles shrugged. "No promises." He stuck his hand in his pocket and fished out a two-by-two-centimeter patch. "Here, tell Missy to stick it on her upper arm or thigh. It should be good for a week before being replaced. Toddles, stuff needs to be done. Sorry again!"

And just like that, Miles left Taylor utterly frazzled and not feeling excited about the rest of the day. She held the patch in her hand, staring at the empty hallway with an urge to go back to bed and curl up into a ball.

A hand landed on Taylor's shoulder, making her jump as she spun around to see Tammi standing there with her faceplate blank.

"So you suffered his touch too?" Tammi asked.

Taylor scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion. "What? How long were you watching?"

"From the beginning."

"You saw that whole thing?!" Taylor shrieked.

Tammi nodded, turning her head away before reaching up as the locking mechanism unclamped, and she pulled her helmet off. Taylor gasped at seeing her fuzzy head, devoid of the long blond hair she had seen days ago. On closer inspection, a silver line wrapped around her skull like an extremely faded scar. "Like I said, suffered his touch." Her fingers traced along a silver band around her throat before moving to the one on her head.

"...Miles did that? What did he do?" Taylor asked, now sick to her stomach at the possibilities. She wondered what would've happened that day weeks ago if she wasn't a younger Rose with her protection. Would she even be alive after being cut open and examined?

Tammi's eyes unfocused, her hand absently tracing the fading line on her forehead. "So much, so very much. He… they aren't good guys." She shivered. "No. Monsters wrapped in human skin."

Taylor wasn't one for casual physical contact, but even she could see that Tammi needed a hug, ex-nazi or not. Armored bodies clinked together as she squeezed Tammi with all her strength. A distant awe from the traitor made the blush return as she glowered at the faint feeling of Rose in her head.

Tammi blinked before losing the vulnerability that had oozed from her body language. A dopey smile crossed her face before she shoved Taylor away with a scowl. "I'm fine."

"Oh, okay. I was just… you know."

Tammi cleared her throat, sliding her helmet back on. "Just… don't mention it. It was my choice and the payment to be whole again."

"That… you're my responsibility now, so Miles won't do anything without our say-so!" Taylor nodded her head, fist hitting her palm in response to her declaration.

Instead of the reaction she expected, Tammi snorted. "How are you going to do that? You couldn't even protect yourself?"

"Hey! I'm still in one piece. Well, almost one piece."

Tammi cocked her head slightly to the side and crossed her arms, giving Taylor a look.

"What? He saved my life, but maybe replacing my heart and lung was a bit overkill."

"So that story was true? Miss Militia almost killed you in your civilian identity?"

"Well, yes, but Rose explained why it happened, and it was just an unpleasant situation with bad intel." It was hard for Taylor to accept when it was her life that was almost ended, but she could see how rescuing a kidnapped kid who was there superseded some aspects.

"Fucking sand… um, ah," Tammi froze before she turned away and stomped off.


Breakfast was… not what Taylor expected. It was a Miles special, whatever that meant, but it was a glass of… something green. It swirled and moved on its own, memorizing currents. One for her, Missy, and a disgruntled Tammi. They labeled each glass with their names and mixed it to suit their bodily needs for twenty-four hours.

The taste defied its looks, sliding down her throat like the smoothest ice cream with a taste that had Taylor licking her lips even if she couldn't describe it. It was like it bypassed her taste buds and went straight to hijacking the nerves underneath, and knowing Miles, that was most likely the case. A thought hit Taylor: did Miles just use a neurotoxin to cover up the horrible taste? Fuck, there was a good reason people feared bio-tinkerers. That could've just as easily killed her and everyone else, and there wasn't a single thing to prevent it. Worse, now that food was running low, everything would come from Miles and his technology.

A tingling sensation coursed through Taylor's limbs, the same one that had been happening every few minutes since she drank that smoothie. It was nothing "concerning," they said, but she begged to differ, but she didn't have the time to find Rose and get her to weasel the answers from Miles. Another laugh echoed in her head, making her grit her teeth. Now she knew Rose knew but wasn't saying anything. That was it; Rose was now permanently a traitor.

Taylor pulled herself back to the present, running her eyes over the gathered groups. The one her helmet led her toward wasn't… what… she… expected, but the second one fit her expectations. Behind her, Missy and Tammi followed her to the rear of the hangar, the same spot she once used to relax for brief periods. Twenty people milled about in two groups of ten with racks of guns and armor, including three heavily modified vehicles. All under tents or locked in boxes, with one or two in the open. Dust, dust was everywhere.

An older guy with a huge gut turned to her, throwing out his arms. "Why isn't it the pretty little princesses. Call me Big Dog." He thumped his belly; a gnarled scar ran from his temple across his head, leaving a wide streak of pink skin with no hair.

"Because you've got a giant gut, and your bark is bigger than your bite!" one woman called out.

Big Dog turned around and pointed at the woman. "Correct!" Then he faced Taylor again. "So what can the humble Big Dog do for you, little nepotism babies? Silver spoon and all."

Taylor could only blink, unprepared and out of her depth. "Big Dog's" words said one thing, but the tone held no anger or disgust. She didn't know if she should be offended or not because she was only where she was now because of Rose and Miles. "U-um," she stuttered.

"Come on, spit it out. Times'a'ticking."

Taylor marshaled her willpower. "Is this Bravo Squad?"

"Right in one, come on, introduce yourselves!"

"I'm Weaver or Taylor, this is Vista or Missy, and that's-"

"Tammi."

"No, no, no. That won't do! Give me a name, a propa name!"

"Tammi."

Big Dog leaned towards Tammi, hands on his hips, as he scanned her plain gunmetal-gray armored suit. "Well… Magneto." Just as Tammi bristled at the name, he said it with the biggest shiteating grin Taylor had ever seen. "A comic book Jewish supervillain that moves metal with his mind. Fitting, isn't it, Magneto?"

Tammi's hand curled into a fist, but Taylor pushed herself between the two before a fight could break out. "We'll come up with one. Just call her Tammi for now."

"No, you don't come up with a name for yourself. You're given it. Shit luck you have there, Magneto." Big Dog barked out a reverberating laugh before walking back to the line of nine. "Time to introduce this band of misfits!"

"First up, we have Murphy because anyone missing a leg has tempted it at some point!" Big Dog patted the man on his back, getting a scowl. Taylor glanced down and saw that Murphy had replaced his right leg with a robotic one, Miles' work if she guessed.

"Next, we have Bob because he has bitch tits!" Taylor didn't understand that one, but Bob was quite overweight, and the slap by Big Dog made his whole body jiggle. She nodded, trying not to stare at how his body still vibrated.

"This is Edith. I would call her Bitch, but there's already one in town, and everyone knows an Edith is a bitch." Big Dog pulled back his hand to slap Edith's butt, the woman who called him out earlier, but she caught his hand.

"If you touch my ass one more time, I'm shoving my boot so far up your ass, you'll taste leather before chopping your balls off." Edith threatened, only coming up to Big Dog's armpits, but her bare skin showed rolling muscles.

"Feisty as always, chika. I would give him a good slap, but last time I couldn't pull my hand away. Give it up for Sticky Joe, the resident hobo. Not even a dip in the ocean could rid him of that smell!"

Joe growled, his hair and beard striking out in every direction, and he was by far the oldest person in the line. If Taylor had to guess, he was in his sixties at a minimum. The fresh clothes he wore looked at odds with his body, but he wasn't that out of shape if she had to guess.

Big Dog stepped around the only other woman in the line, pointing at her from a meter away. "That's Lilith, our crazy bitch and sociopath of the group. Watch the knives." A flash of metal caught Taylor's eye before it disappeared back into Lilith's jacket.

"While his name is Redshirt, I haven't found one yet for him." Big Dog said, slapping Redshirt on the back; he rolled his eyes with crossed arms. Scars covered his face and part of his neck that was showing. "My man survived an IED, but that shrapnel gave him a run for his money."

Big Dog grinned at Taylor, standing behind the shortest person in the group besides Missy. He grabbed the man's shoulders and leaned down. "This one is Forest because he just loves running but is slow as shit."

Forest was by far the best dressed of everyone in the line, with neat, tidy hair and a dress jacket. But, while his face remained stoic, Taylor saw the twitches.

"Seaman, or was that your breakfast? Our fabulous Navy man!" Seaman tisked but said nothing.

"Last but not left," Big Dog winked at Taylor, "Muhammad Alright!"

Taylor blinked at Alright, the man missing his left arm but was the most jacked person she had ever seen who wasn't Miles. He was also black. She shot a look at Tammi, but she didn't show any reaction through her body language, and her mask stayed blank. Taylor could override the feature, but it was something she had to work towards. Not just Alright, but a few people in the group went against what the Empire spouted, something she would have to pay attention to unless unnecessary friction formed.

"Now, our sorry sacks of shit are here for different reasons, but I'm going over our mission again. Because I don't know about you guys, I've been hit on the head a fair few times in my life, and my memories are not what they used to be." Big Dog said, running a hand through his graying hair until it hit the scar patch and itched it. "I was once an infantry sergeant, but they don't do brain damage." "I can tell!" "So now you jackasses gotta deal with me. Our job is to man that convoy, and the capes are for flexibility." Big Dog held up his arms and crouched down just a hair, facing the line. "But do you know what this means?"

No one answered.

"DO YOU?"

"No, sir." A couple answered, others grunted, and Joe growled, but half stayed silent.

"The kiddy gloves are coming off, and it's open season on any capes that stick their noses in our operation!"

"Fuck yeah, can I cut one open?"

"Keep it in your pants, Lilith."

Taylor turned to the three vehicles: two trucks with large guns mounted on the truck bed, with the last being either a school bus or greyhound. She couldn't tell under the heavy modifications and layers of armor that covered the whole thing.

"I'm the squad leader. My second is Weaver. I know, I know, it's the prissy lieutenants fresh from the academy all over again, but it's what we gotta deal with, conditions of the Lord and Lady."

Taylor bristled before shoving it down. Just that morning, she wished she had more experience leading, and now she was second to someone who actually was in the military at one point. This was a chance to learn, not one she'd throw away because of her pride or crass words.

"For the next four hours, we're training on driving those machines, firing these fancy pansy guns, then rolling out at noon!"

"That's bullshit. Four hours to learn all that? Fucking Bob can't run twenty meters, and Joe's been out of the military longer than I've been alive!" Edith kicked at the dust-covered ground. Bob curled in on himself, his eyes never leaving the ground. Joe growled, shrugging his shoulders, and moved his jaw around; it was too close together to have teeth. "Alright doesn't even have a left arm! Fuck!"

"Yeah? Suck it up, Buttercup. What don't you understand about vol-un-teer squad? Don't like it? GTFO." Big Dog thundered. "The lot of you, go fuck around with the armor; I gotta get the pretty princesses going."

Taylor kept her mouth closed, waving off both Tammi and Missy as they started throwing fits in their own way. That man did his damnedest to get on everyone's nerves. She could see it on the assembled squad's faces, so she knew it wasn't just her. Why he did it, she didn't know, but maybe it was because of that scar, or he was just an ass.

For now, Taylor would watch and learn everything she could, and once she knew enough… she didn't know. It was something! Not that it was really up to her, as Rose and Miles gave her tasks to do and set everything up behind the scenes. She didn't even know she was joining a squad or being a part of a convoy until last night, and now she was going to actually act like a cape! Not some glorified taskmaster directing Missy and Tammi around.

Taylor grimaced, feeling out her power, a useless power. Even worse now than before, as the temperature dropped to the negatives and active insects hid away or froze. Some tiny fleas remained, but the dust suffocated them and any food source. For now, the tiny blips of active insects remained in warm houses or around people, and even then, she lacked a broad or valuable scope.

Big Dog stomped his way to the tent with weapons, turning to them as they had yet to follow. "Get your asses moving!"

Taylor nodded, jogging over, followed by Missy, as Tammi trailed behind, dragging her feet. Big Dog pulled a gun from the crate, looking like nothing she'd ever seen before. Of course, she knew little about guns besides the fact that they hurt to get shot by.

"Have any of you miserable miscreants fired a gun before?"

Tammi half raised a hand.

"Why am I not surprised that Magneto has fired a gun before?" Big Dog said, before muttering to himself. "Okay, this isn't anything I can explain, being all fancy tinkertech and all, but just don't point it at anything you don't want to shoot. You got that?" Taylor nodded. "Good, figure out the rest yourself; I ain't holding your hands."

Taylor flinched but still managed to catch the gun Big Dog threw at her before waving at the pile and stomping off, yelling at the squad around the armor tent. At first glance, it was like any other gun, but now she saw how the barrel was 12 centimeters wide, making it feel clunky in her hands. A prompt popped up on her visor called "CR-01 training."

"Um, grab a gun. A training guide will pop up." Taylor instructed, mentally opening it as information sprouted out of the gun she was looking at.

"The CR-01, a coilgun-based rifle that fires a 100gr 6mm slug at 1,000 m/s. It's powered by a plasma cell under the barrel and fed by a 100-round magazine behind the grip. The CR-01 has an effective accuracy of 500 meters and a variable rate of fire of up to 600 rounds a minute. A dry mass of 2 kg and a wet mass of 6 kg. Please begin familiarizing yourself with the CR-01." A feminine computer voice read the prompt aloud.

Taylor flipped the rifle around in her hands, finding the two empty ports and the trigger with nothing else on the gun, including sights. A window popped up explaining that the gun had an electronic trigger and control system; it wouldn't fire unless in the hands of an approved user with the intent to fire; there wasn't such a thing as an accidental discharge.

Next came the battery pack, tube-shaped and as long as the barrel it slotted under. Warnings filled the screen about breaching the containment vessel and tossing the gun away at the hint of damage. An automated self-destruct would handle the rest. The battery was good for a thousand shots, and the drones would manage the refilling.

Taylor grabbed a ten-centimeter-long tube from the indicated box, mimicking the overlay as she slid it down a hidden rail until it locked into place. It matched the barrel length, making the whole thing look even weirder. Then came the magazine. She pulled out one, seeing the silver slug at the top. Curiously, the magazine was twice as long as the projectile. An x-ray of the magazine showed how the slugs sat, with it containing two mini-magazines; when the first emptied, the second slid into place, with fifty rounds each. This slid in far behind the grip and trigger. She took two more, and following the prompt, she placed them on her hip, where they snapped into place.

Missy tried to act like Taylor but bounced around with a big smile on her face while her hands shook. She couldn't get the plasma battery into place, missing the rail on the first few attempts. The rifle looked ridiculously big on her slight frame. On the other hand, Tammi robotically went about the procedure before making a pulling motion at the back, only to realize there wasn't anything there.

Next on the training list was firing the gun at holographic targets floating on the bay. Taylor didn't know when Rose and Miles did this, but their levels of bullshit were off the chart at times. The monolithic bunker that sprouted up in a day said as much, just as the dozen or more foundations painted another picture. She tried not to think of the missile they had made, having watched the launch and detonation from inside the hangar. The missile ripped apart an asteroid as large as a mountain. She was so useless compared to them.

Taylor shook her head. She was doing her own acts of goodness, even if they weren't on the same level.

Tammi took off, following the laid-out path to the firing platform, as Taylor waited for Missy to calm down and finish going over the rifle set-up. "You seem excited?"

"Um, yeah! Do you know how many times I begged to try firing a gun? Thousands! Blah, blah, blah, you're twelve, a girl, and it would ruin my cute image. Who's laughing now?" Missy giggled to herself.

"Ah, okay?"

"I mean Miss Militia, sorry again, always has guns on her, and she's had them since like nine or something. Darn it, I'm a hero! I fought Hookwolf; I don't have time to enjoy my childhood, blarg. I'm grown up and mature!" Taylor ducked as Missy swung the rifle by her, holding up her hand and grabbing the barrel before she could point it at everyone. "Shadow Stalker had a crossbow! Kid Win had a laser pistol! Why couldn't I have something? What was I supposed to do? Slap someone? Twist them until they puke? How can I be a hero when people laugh at me?"

"Okay, Missy, calm down," Taylor said, struggling against the surprisingly strong Missy in keeping her rifle pointed at the sky.

"Why? Are you going to take it away too?" Missy's voice turned shrill.

"Stop pointing it at people!"

"Oh."

"And that's ladies, gentlemen, Edith," "Fuck you!" "Joe, why we keep guns away from kids. They'll kill us all." Big Dog yelled from the side.

Taylor glanced over, hands still on Missy's rifle, and saw everyone either hiding behind crates or lying on the ground—well, all but Joe, who kept gumming something, not a care in the world. When she turned back, Missy stopped resisting, her face turning red as she dropped the rifle into Taylor's hands and warped space. The next instant, Missy vanished.

This, this was going to be a problem. Taylor saw Tammi looking over at her before facing the bay again, bringing the rifle up and firing. There wasn't a bang, just a soft crack each time she fired, then a string of them. Downrange over the Bay, the holographic target pinpointed each hit. While she wanted to try that out, she had leadership things to do. Taylor sighed, putting both rifles down.

At least with the armor suits, Taylor always knew where Missy and Tammi were if she wanted. A tap later, she found Missy hiding on top of the hangar. Why couldn't it have been at ground level? Another sigh left her as she trudged off, hoping that there was a ladder leading to the roof.

Some searching later and a helpful nudge from the traitor, she was on the steaming roof, sitting beside a sniffling Missy, feeling surprisingly warm for how cold it was out. Sometimes silence was better than empty platitudes.

"I just wanted to be a hero, you know? But since that day at the bank, it's all crumbled around me. I've never felt as useless," Missy said, hugging herself. "My parents are as bad as always. They didn't care about the moon exploding, only who I stayed with, as long as it wasn't the other. After the power went out, I hadn't even heard from them. They only live a few minutes away and never even visited!" Missy sniffled, clinking her armored hand against her faceplate as she tried to wipe away something. "I never want to see them again! I hope they're dead!"

Taylor bit her tongue against her will. The traitor forced her to as she was about to speak about wishing she still had her mom, and she couldn't imagine not wanting to see her ever again or hoping her dad would die. A silent thank you to the traitor, as she understood how insensitive that would've been only afterward.

Taylor probed the traitor with a few ideas of what to say. She was unsure and didn't want to say the wrong thing now. She licked her lips, running over the list of ones Rose had given her nod of approval. "Come on, let's go shoot some guns. I have a special target for you." Deflection, distraction, just add in some venting. To be honest, she didn't know what that target was, but Rose alluded to it, and Taylor conveyed it.

"You'd let me?" The sheer hope in Missy's voice forced Taylor to muffle an awe. It was so precious, and it would be more so if they weren't talking about shooting guns.

"I mean, sure, just watch where you're pointing it." Taylor choked out, pushing herself up to avoid being questioned about her cracking voice.

A quick brush removed any dust clinging to Taylor's rear before offering a hand to Missy. With both back on their feet, Taylor gave the detection array a wide berth, able to feel the radiating power through her suit. Her skin felt like she was under the sun, as well as the shimmering air. She worked through a few options on her helmet before she found the radiation monitor and blanched. They were taking at least fifteen rads per minute. The total was over a hundred since she came up there, and that was through her suit. Missy sat at just under two hundred.

Taylor was just moments away from a meltdown before noticing that the warning was still far off. Whatever Miles had going on inside them handled the radiation they were taking and prevented any damage, or so it said. She snarled in her helmet, clicking Miles' name as she led Missy to the roof's edge. "Did you just use me as an UNWILLING test subject?!" She hated that Tammi's words rattled around in her head, and the first option was that Miles didn't warn them on purpose.

"Ha! Hey, Rose, you were pretty sharp as a kid!" There was some murmur that didn't carry over. "Oh, Mini-Taylor, you weren't ever at risk and should be good for a daily thousand. Just some field testing. Nasty stuff and all. It would be a shame if people started dropping for no reason. And no, I warned you about getting too close to the array. It was your job to pay attention and tell your team. Consider it a learning opportunity." And then he hung up.

A mix of anger and shame hit Taylor and left her gaping. At times, Miles and Rose held out their hands and helped her along; other times, they left her out to dry! A fucking failure, that's what she was. She had to do better, be better, and stop relying on them to pull her ass out of the fire!

Taylor pushed up against the freshly laid down concrete wall, which rose a meter higher than initially. That also blocked the line of sight from the array to any nearby buildings. She was so stupid. "Can you warp us to behind Tammi?" She asked Missy while sending off a message to let Tammi know. Everything that could go wrong had to be planned for.

"Yup!"

As always, Taylor hated looking through the distortions but took a dutiful step right behind Missy as they traveled thirty meters in an instant. Taylor swallowed her nausea before steadying herself. Down the line of firing positions, the rest of the squad went through drills, firing off over the bay. She gave Tammi a nod and gestured for her to follow them.

While the CR-01 didn't sound as loud as a gun, each shot produced a crack. With ten people firing, Taylor had a hard time hearing. She braced herself back at the gun tent, absently noticing how Tammi kept the gun pointed at the ground with a finger off the trigger and filed it away. "So I failed to warn you about a no-fly zone around the detection arrays."

"Do you mean the one we were just standing around?" Missy asked.

"Yes."

"Was that why it felt like I was sun tanning?"

Tammi facepalmed. "Two days ago, you told me not to fly thirty meters up within a kilometer of the hangar."

"Ah, yeah? Oh." Taylor blamed the lack of sleep, even if her implants dealt with. "Anyway, the patches will handle it."

"You mean the one you just got me?" Missy asked, her voice taking on a particular tone.

Taylor stepped back, grimacing. Tammi watched, neither accusing Taylor nor standing up in her defense. "I'm trying, okay? I'm— not used to people."

"And you're my leader? What experience do you have? Who gave you that spot? Is it because you're older?" Missy accused, a one-eighty of how she was just behaving.

That was an obvious sore spot. Even Taylor could figure that one out. She gave Tammi a pleading look and was met with crossed arms. Why was Missy flip-flopping like that? Taylor racked her brain and returned to the patch that Missy lacked until not long ago. Sleep deprivation.

'Maybe she should take a nap? Wait, kids take naps. She doesn't like being called out on her age. Um, the truth?' Taylor struggled, and there weren't any helpful tips from the traitor. So she regaled Missy with the story about Rose being an older her from another dimension, and their brains interacted because of Rose's powers.

"Oh, that explains a lot."

"It does?"

"Yeah! At times, it's like you're two separate people."

"Oh." Well, Taylor couldn't have everything, and she was working on it, but at least Missy wasn't throwing a fit anymore. She debated whether it was worth calling Miles to ask if the patch worked retroactively, but checked her visor first, only to find that it wouldn't, and Missy had to rest for a bit. How to convince her had Taylor grasping at straws.

The ground then started shaking as everyone dropped low, Taylor's eyes darting around. Earthquakes weren't rare. In fact, she felt dozens a day, but most did nothing besides give her a little jiggle. However, this one was decidedly a bit more than usual as built-up dust rained down. Some car alarms honked in the distance, and her visor gave four beeps moments before the Endbringer alarms blared.

A single long beep was for kissing their asses goodbye, and everyone was about to die. Two were for hiding behind the thickest concrete structure they could find. Three was for everyone to seek cover, and last, four was for the unarmored to retreat indoors. No beeps meant no danger.

Taylor didn't have to worry too much, as it was four beeps, and instead used it as an opportunity to get back on track. "Okay, now that's over, let's get back to it." She grabbed her rifle and handed Missy hers before pushing out, eating up the distance to the firing range with her long legs.

A nearby drone snagged her attention as it scurried by, holding a small box. It went up to Joe, who rubbed his hands together, dropping his rifle to swing by his side. He daintily flipped the cover off and pulled out a giant brown cigarette? Then the bottom part of his helmet flipped down, and he stuck it in his mouth. The drone ignited a plasma torch, and he used it to light it, releasing a huge puff of multifaceted smoke that shimmered in the air. Even ten meters away, she heard him make a pleased growl while nodding his head.

Taylor blinked and decided she didn't need to know, but the envious looks the squad gave Joe as he cradled the box were disturbing. Instead of curiosity, she wanted no part in whatever they were doing or the yelling as they tried to get Joe to share. It had to have come from Miles, and there was no telling what was in it, but the faint smell of skunk already told her a little.

Another drone ambled by, placing a large metal statue downrange at the edge of the pier before revealing who it was. It was a detailed carving of Hookwolf in his human form, mask and all. That had to be the special target for Missy, and by the pleased squeal, she appreciated it.

Taylor pushed it out of her mind, bringing up the instructions again. It covered everything from hand placement to correct posture; unlike before, she etched it into her mind. Aiming with it wasn't like in the movies with no optics or iron sights, but it used her visor, eye movements, general rifle angle, and intent to select the target and adjust her arm placement to hit the target. It wasn't mandatory and could easily be switched off as the system would then paint crosshairs on her visor while projecting the path the round would take.

The instructions disabled the automatic aiming, leaving Taylor in manual mode as she lined up the first target twenty meters away. She pulled the trigger with the middle of her finger as instructed, feeling the rifle push her back slightly as the armor cushioned the recoil. It went through the holographic target centimeters away from where she aimed as the system went through why it happened. It was all on her as she flinched just a little.

Another twenty shots flew out before Taylor didn't flinch each time she pulled the trigger. It was a little embarrassing, as Missy had already blazed past her, and Tammi was doing something called drills. It terrified Taylor to watch Tammi as she hit twenty different targets in the heart in just five seconds before switching to full auto and pumping out the rest of the clip in eight seconds, eighty shots.

Taylor stopped gawking and returned to her own task. She was their leader, and that meant she had to keep up with them and be better, no matter what. The magazine soon ran dry after nailing a target four hundred meters away with only a slight deviation. She reloaded the rifle, placed the empty on a separate hip, and clipped in a new one, going through the automatic aiming system, a system that only she, Missy, and Tammi had. It required a full suit, after all.

A large splash sent water high into the air before the bay erupted into tiny impacts. Clanking and dings echoed around them as it turned into a roar that sounded like a hailstorm. A few slapped Taylor, forcing her to step forward.

"Gah! Fuck! That smarts like a motherfucker!" Big Dog hollered as he hopped around, holding his unarmored shin.

"Ha!" Edith laughed before a rock smacked her on the helmet, sending her to the ground.

"That's karma for you, stupid b-" Big Dog started before another slapped him.

Everyone else didn't fair much better, with Bob taking it the worst as his large body wasn't exactly covered by the armor. The rain of rocks only lasted thirty seconds before puttering out, and Big Dog yelled at them to get back to work with a dozen new bruises. It wasn't difficult to see how that would've killed a person without a helmet, but the warning hadn't let up yet.

Taylor pulled up her rifle as the program had her look at a target with the intent of shooting it, and her body moved by itself and fired. The round landed dead center. This time she went down the line, focusing on four different targets before initiating. A moment later, all four were hit, and she understood how Tammi hit twenty targets so quickly, as the next task was to do the same thing. That included dumping the rest of the magazine, and there wasn't anything quite like it. A shiver of thrill crawled up her spine.

Unlike Taylor, Missy didn't dump her magazine into a target but instead into the Hookwolf statue. And Taylor didn't expect the bullets to just disintegrate while leaving shallow dents! A similar sound of shocked disgust from Missy. Were they even real bullets? A prompt then described in detail that they were firing frangible rounds so as not to kill their target before piercing through five buildings behind them. The armor-piercing rounds were locked up unless required, and only Missy could fire one round.

Missy lined up and fired. The recoil sent her into the air, flying backward while squealing as the statue of Hookwolf evaporated from the waist up, and a cone of shrapnel kicked up jets of water. The gun in her hands steamed as the heat distorted the surrounding air. Maybe that was a little overkill. Only then did Taylor find out that Missy had set the rifle to maximum, depleting a quarter of the power cell in that single shot.

"Wow! That was amazing!" Missy yelled from the ground.

Moments later, a powerful gust of wind roared through Brockton Bay, coming from behind them just like the raining rocks, and pushed all the settled dust up into the air. The group of them continued to train once it settled back down, including the Beta and Alpha squads, for a total of twenty-three people. This included driving around in convoys and the positions they would take. A subtle conspiracy between them had Missy out like a light after struggling with the boredom of driving around in a loop while the drivers learned.

Even compared to the long days of working from morning to midnight, didn't have Taylor feeling this mentally exhausted. Redshirt pulled the truck up beside the others and behind a large crowd. As a group, they disembarked as trained, with Lilith jumping off the mounted machine gun and Edith leaving through the opposite side of Taylor, both of them in the backseat, and Joe, still puffing away, riding shotgun.

Tammi nudged her after walking over from the front truck, "What's this about?" Her tone was a touch strained. Something about being stuck with Big Dog, Seaman (gay), and Alright (black). It couldn't be that Big Dog deliberately did that to screw with her.

"I don't know," Taylor said, receiving the same notification as everyone else.

Thousands of people gathered around, with Rose standing up on stage and a man kneeling with his hands tied behind his back.

"I'm Empress, and today one of us, under my and Emperor's shelter, used it to act like a savage." The tone had the hairs on Taylor's neck stand up as everyone shifted from one foot to the next. "This man attempted to rape a minor, here, under our protection. The world may be ending, and hope is bleak, but that does not give us the excuse to act like barbarians!"

Before anyone even had time to react, Rose's hand flashed, and a spray of blood colored the stage. She held up his decapitated head before flinging it into the sky, with it disappearing from sight, soon followed by the body. "Friends and family of the guilty party and victim may access the recordings. Have a good day."

Taylor turned to the side, pulled off her helmet, and puked on the ground.