Greg Veder

I stared at the vials, I read and reread all the paperwork, when I was finished I stared at them. Three choices, Trump, Shaker, Tinker. What would be my best option? Trump was tempting, that could be overwhelmingly powerful but it also could force me to rely on other capes and I prefered to be a solo act, it was safer for me that way. Shaker sounded good but that would lead to questions, uncomfortable questions, I was on a pedestal now and when you get high everyone wants to take you down. I stared at the Tinker vial, it would let me do what I did anyway better, more efficiently. Any upgrades could be excused as a second trigger, lord knows I have been through enough shit to justify one, I would just tell people that having my city attacked was something I took badly. It was true in a way, I still didn't have internet access, being able to fix it would be nice.

This was everything I had ever wanted, I took the Tinker vial and followed the instructions. It tasted bad, awful but I finished every drop and when I was finished I laid down on my bed and convulsed and dealt with the hallucinations. When I woke up I didn't feel that different, I felt angry until the ideas came, the inspiration. I looked around and suddenly everything made sense. My suit, I saw so many improvements. I looked around my workshop, at all of the electronics and other assorted crap that I had collected from yard sales, from thrift stores and from dumpster diving. Over a 4 year period I had collected so much crap and now I knew ways to put it to use. I had the tools, I had the materials. I just decided to start building, to start creating.

Things made sense now, force fields, anti-gravity, batteries, chemistry, math, it was if everything had just clicked. I found that my old tools were not precise enough so I looked around the house, finding my old broken down toys and the assorted garbage that broke down and wasn't thrown away because there was a war on and who knows it might come in handy. Well now it was coming in handy. I spent my time in a daze only getting away from my projects to eat and sleep.

I smiled at the results, I turned on a belt and looked at the almost invisible force field that enveloped my body. I looked at my new, improved suit and put it on. I had ideas on how to armor up my duster, how to hide lasers in my gloves. I put on my mask and hat and took to the sky I could fly now, honestly fly, not just jump around. I felt great, I felt awsome, I just went up and enjoyed the breeze.

I felt free and great, and-

"Your a hard man to find, Void Cowboy."

I turned around, Miss Militia?

"Um..."

"I'm on stake out, I'm actually not looking for you, but the Protectorate as a whole has been trying to get into contact."

"My internet's out."

"Oh that explains it, you missed the memorial ceremony, and you might have hurt Armsmaster's feelings."

She stared at my outfit.

"I didn't know you could fly?"

I looked away.

"Having my home town attacked, I didn't know it could happen to us and I didn't handle it well and then things started to click and become obvious and, ya know?"

She grimaced.

"Yeah a second trigger, look you're not the only one to go through that, Armsmaster isn't really good at the social niceties, which is why we're all glad Dragon's around to balance him out. Let me talk to him, smooth things over and we can get you your reward ceremony."

I though about that, the risk of Thinkers, the boredom, the demand that I hold myself to some standard I really don't feel I'm capable of.

"I think I will skip that."

She blinked.

"But a lot of people-"

"It's a waste of time and money, and I fight wars, I don't want to do a bunch of political stuff."

She sighed.

"I should have figured as much, so you're just going to cut yourself off from everyone else, just show up at the battles and then go home? What happens when the war ends, Void?"

I shrugged.

"I got a plot of land waiting for me, I think I will become a farmer, grow stuff, build my own house, maybe have a ranch. I mean it's in the name, I might as well become a real cowboy, right?"

They were just ideas but Miss Militia looked tired.

"Ok that's reasonable but here's a card, contact me if you ever change your mind."