Fragmentation 1.7
(Ashley Cross)
November 22, 2010
-15d, 5h, 26m, 13s.
15 days, 5 hours, 26 minutes, and 14 seconds since Ashley needed to have a night's sleep longer than 4 hours.
Time until she next needed to use the toilet: ~ 3 hours, 20 minutes.
Time until she began to use up her fat stores: 1 day, 2 hours, 16 minutes, and 12 seconds.
Time until she became dehydrated: 21 hours, 42 minutes, and 24 seconds.
Closest IDPD agent: Undetermined. (14 days, 1 hour, and 54 seconds after her visor was built, and she still didn't know what an IDPD agent was.)
Number of jumps until empty battery (Warning, dimension lockdown activated): 3.
2h, 5m, 29s since she'd been awoken in the alley she'd been hiding in by someone dressed as a PRT trooper.
14d, 1h, 1m, 12s since she couldn't tell the difference without a name and face.
Two sides were after her. One for going AWOL, the other for discovering they existed.
One would put her in prison, the other would kill her when she got there.
One was on the cover of every newspaper in the United States, the other only had a name on PHO.
Just a name.
Coil.
And the most important timer of all:
3m, 31s away from target location lockdown.
A few minutes from going right to the head of the snake.
…
…
…
She wasn't sure she was ready.
2 weeks, 2 days, 5 hours ago exactly, she had been an analyst working directly under Director Piggot. She had been asked to look for possible reasons that the Brockton Bay PRT had the worst mission success ratings in the United States. One and a half hours were spent scanning records of missions, vacation requests, outside training, and transfers, when she noticed something.
One of their Commanders and CEO of Fortress Construction, Thomas Calvert, had asked to subcontract some soldiers sometime in late 2007 that were from some rather questionable sources. His request was denied, by order of Piggot herself but years later, analysts and technicians were hired under the same names as the soldiers that were suggested by Calvert.
It must have been an error.
And then it was.
The names from Calvert's request in 2007 were different now. But she had seen those names.
It must have been an error.
But it wasn't.
She hadn't saved the names. She didn't have any proof.
So she kept searching.
Over the next two days and three hours, Ashley had discovered more evidence of Calvert's intrusions. Nothing outright hostile, but she didn't see how replacing construction workers with his own men could mean anything good. She had learned as well. Every speck of proof against Calvert that she discovered, she printed out for Piggot, partially because she didn't want to forget the details. Mostly because the computer system forgot the details after she found them.
She printed those changes out as well.
And she kept searching.
Ashley was finishing up her report for Piggot when pop-ups began appearing on her screen.
*Access to has been interrupted, input security key to re-attempt access*
Typing in her security key, Ashley was beginning to panic. They'd stopped her from accessing files two minutes after she'd finished her report. She was in the middle of typing in her final notes when the cutoff occurred, but she had all she needed to imprison Calvert for decades on her desk, including illegal transfers, money laundering, bribery, and more.
Including what happened to the construction workers she'd noticed at the beginning.
They hadn't only been replaced, they'd been replaced, used by Fortress Construction, and then disappeared.
There was a structure beneath an abandoned building, 14 stories deep, filled with traps and vaults and tunnels.
And everyone who'd worked on it?
Dead, or vanished without a trace. Car accident, accident at home, fallen down stairs, suicide, heart attack, moved to Mexico, took a trip to Vegas. All of the crew who worked on this superstructure were gone. The only ones who knew of it now was Calvert and his personal guards. And when she found references and matches to one of his hired mercs in the PRT escapee list, she found the connection she was looking for.
Thomas Calvert was Coil.
Or, a mole of his at least.
She hadn't typed that into her console, in fear that Coil's moles were in her computer already.
Seeing her security key failing to work a third time confirmed her hypothesis.
She wasn't meant to survive the next few minutes.
Calvert wasn't an idiot after all.
Well, he was back in 2007, but he wasn't now.
She was the top analyst in the PRT, but she'd been Calvert's top analyst for the past two days solving his mistakes.
She'd been working for Calvert without her knowledge, and once she'd been gotten rid of, without anyone's. She needed to get her report to Piggot now, but she couldn't alert whoever was in her computer now that she knew she was being monitored. Piggot's desk was two floors up and at the end of the hall the elevator opened up to. And she needed to plan a way up to her room, without getting detained or murdered.
She may have been a little rusty in tactics… Well, she was a lot worse than rusty in tactics; three years without any firearm and physical training besides lifting two hours a day would hurt her chances, but she needed to get these reports to Piggot. Identities of thirty-four moles including Calvert, who was at the least a lieutenant of Coil, were vital to the Brockton Bay PRT's success. The report was also necessary for the failure of Coil's apparent plan to humiliate the PRT and have Piggot fired, replacing her with, if she read her notes right, a certain Thomas Calvert.
She started planning.
Ugh, she had some running to do.
She should have listened to her weight lifting buddy. Even if he was one of the traitors.
Leg day was important after all.
45 minutes have passed, and she was ready to bolt.
She was jittery, shaking slightly, and she was at the end of her patience.
Her plan was foolproof. She knew which moles were on her floor and Piggot's, she knew which path left the largest openings to dash through, she knew which of her colleagues she could trust and which she should avoid unless she wanted to be apprehended. But most of all, she knew what to hand to Piggot once she arrived, and what to hide in her office in case she didn't. All agents had compartments in their office for sensitive and private information, which only they and their superior officer knew about, paper informed of course, they weren't stupid. Ashley knew that even if she was stopped on the way up, Piggot would find the report's copy.
She was at the door now. She just had to open it, dash out, run, run, dodge, jump, throw if to left, push if to right, etc. She was ready.
1…
2…
3…
*Slam!*
…
The door was locked.
Shit! Shitshitshitshitshit why didn't she think of that! Of course they'd lock the door! That's like missing the eggs in a cake, or a screw in an IKEA project, or a landing in a precognitive vision (She still didn't understand that simile, but it had caught on in PHO so she might as well use it).
But the door was locked!
Now she couldn't even…
"Excuse me, Ms. Cross?"
She didn't have a speaker in her room.
"It has come to my attention that you've been such a valued employee to me that I would like to offer you a job."
This was Calvert.
The scent of blackmail was strong in this one.
"In return for you putting the papers in your hand in the shredder to the left of your desk and joining my forces, I won't dispose of you in the same way as the men and women on page 25 of your report."
Page 25 was the violent disappearance page.
Shit.
"Um, Piggot knows I'm working on this project, so wouldn't my disappearance seem a little suspicious?"
That's right Ashley, keep him talking. Villains love to monologue right?
"No. You have 30 minutes to come to a decision, both because I am a generous man, and because you chose to soundproof your room. That was well done by the way, some of the rooms in my base aren't nearly as soundproofed as yours."
Well fuck, Calvert was Coil.
The speaker clicked off after Calvert finished talking, and her thoughts began to race.
'Need to think, need to plan, need to get out' Ashley repeatedly screamed in her mind.
She had spent days solving this problem for Piggot, and it was all for waste, well, not for waste actually. But her being dead to not rub it in his face was not acceptable. It wasn't on her to do list for today or anytime soon, and she knew, she checked.
'1. Fuck Calvert over.
2. Find a boyfriend.
3. Lift at 4:30pm Jones is a traitor, fucking bastard!
4. Call mom, birthday in tomorrow!
5. Turn in finished report redundant, look at 1, Ashley.
6. Don't die.
7. Eat/ drink/sleep etc. Ties in with 6.
8. Project Relax.'
See? It wasn't on her list, so she couldn't die. And Calvert would get fucked over, even if it was the last thing she did (Which was looking kind of likely).
She didn't want to have spent her last days on this fucking messed up world at a computer doing her job! She wanted to die in her sleep! Or on another planet! Or in space! Or after eating enough ice cream to die!
Hmm, that last one might be a good plan if she got out of this.
Minus the dying part of course.
Five minutes had passed, and Ashley had just finished a strain of curse words that would have caused Skidmark to nod in agreement. She had no plan still, as nothing she could think up could get her through the blocked door.
She had no way out, and she was terrified.
All the plans she had made, from Escalade to Jubalee to Sleepicide were useless. Pretending to die was out. She couldn't drill through the wall. She couldn't get any help.
So Ashley Cross, for the first time since she was 8, began to cry.
'I'm dead' She thought 'I'm well, and truly, dead'
Time ticked on, and on and on, and as the clock ticked on her wall, Ashley cried, and whimpered, and thrashed, and screamed, and…
She blacked out.
A campfire.
It seemed well made, structurally sound, lots of logs.
She'd been camping before with her father when she was younger, but this fire was different.
It wasn't just the amount of people sitting around it (Her mother had hated the woods with a passion. "If man were meant to live in the woods, would they have invented the air-conditioning unit?" she used to say.), or the guitar music playing from the figure to her left. It was the pure calm that seemed to emanate from the flame.
'I'll keep you safe' it seemed to whisper 'I won't let corruption ruin you as well'.
Then it brightened and glowed, sparks flashing into the sky.
Her vision followed its ascent, and she saw the stars. She'd never seen so many before, even hundreds of miles from the city.
And she didn't think any stars she'd seen could dance!
And swirl the stars did, until her body began to glow, and her vision began to fade.
She knew to fire was in her now, and she knew other things as well. Portals were at the forefront of her mind, leading to dimensions of destruction and doom, as well as relaxation and peace. But she knew she wasn't meant to travel. Her visions had a purpose.
Escape.
Five minutes until her time was up, and she saw her mind show her a beautiful object. A visor, masterfully crafted with a shining black metal, showing her information. And a toolkit, fittable to her back and activated with the visor that allowed her a way out. A way to escape. She looked around the room quickly, noting all pieces of technology that could be adapted into the visor and toolkit, and nodded. It would look nowhere near as cool, but it would work. Well, a desktop, personal laptop, pencil sharpener and paper shredder couldn't give access to any other dimensions, but it would allow her to get around in this one.
She got to work.
45 seconds, and she was done.
Visor and kit on and destination chosen, Ashley held up the activation switch and tried to think of a decent one liner to yell out to Calvert.
"Fuck you Coilvert you fucking douchemagoosh!"
She hit the switch, and with a swirl of blue energy, she regretted one thing.
That one liner was terrible.
It was three days later in a library in southern Miami when she visited the Brockton Bay news site for the first time since she left.
Well.
This was the first time she'd been a fugitive before.
Apparently, Calvert had finagled his influence into the PRT to convince everyone that she'd gone rogue. The published info had described how she'd stolen some valuable information, was working for the villain Coil (which wasn't exactly wrong) and was to be captured on sight.
Piggot obviously hadn't found her report, or was waiting for her return to arrest Calvert.
That just wouldn't do, now would it?
She'd discovered her blueprints in her head were mostly focused around escape and evasion, with some weaponry sprinkled in, but there was one design that had her combing over every recycling bin and thrift store in the East Coast.
A locator.
It was a beautiful device. Able to find the quantum location in the current universe of any person whose name was inputted into it.
It would help her find Calvert, regain her reputation as a decent analyst, and hopefully get her her job… back…
Oh, yeah…
She triggered.
Did the Protectorate accept transfers?
30 seconds to teleport!
Calvert was going to pay. He made her lose her job, her reputation, her bank accounts, and her spotting buddy!
She had all of the equipment she needed too.
Stun gun. Check.
Dodgeifier (Patent not pending). Check.
Visor and JumpPack. Check.
Calvert's coordinates. Check.
Timer hitting zero? Check.
Calvert in a meeting with Piggot and the Brockton Bay Protectorate?
Shit.
"Uhhhhhhh, hey guys, what's up?"
Calvert immediately stood and pulled his gun up to Ashley's head. "Get on the…"
He started shaking after that moment, as the rest of the room took aim or prepared to apprehend her.
I was really glad he hadn't fired, mostly because I didn't want to be shot. Ow. But also because I hadn't tested my Dodgeifier yet, and I wasn't sure of its full capabilities.
"Rogue, put your hands in the air, and drop the… weapon?" Armsmaster grunted out.
"It's just a stun gun, sheesh." At her words, the rest of the Protectorate tensed, and Calvert turned white and grimaced. "And my name's Ashley."
"Regardless," Armsmaster ordered "Drop it and the other object now!"
"Well if you'd just ask politely," Assault giggled "then maybe I will, but seeing as Director Piggot is here I need to turn in my report on Thomas Calvert's identity as…"
Calvert started bleeding from his nose, falling to the ground and seizing.
"…Coil. Um… That wasn't… supposed to happen…"
The rest of the room looked shocked.
"Can you repeat what you just said?" Piggot asked with a critical look on her face.
"Right, Thomas Calvert is Coil," Piggot looked to Armsmaster at this and he nodded "and I was teleporting to his location to stun him and turn him in." He nodded again.
"What did you do to him?" Battery blurted out "Is he..?"
"Dead? No clue. That wasn't me." Ashley commented, looking at Piggot as her face grew grim. "So I guess you didn't find my report?"
"No," Piggot replied as the rest of the Protectorate moved to detain Calvert "Your hiding space was... indisposed of after you took it apart."
"I did?"
"You put it inside the shredder right?"
"Yeah? And I… Oh."
"Yes, you took it apart to go… I guess the word isn't rogue after all."
"Nope, never went AWOL. I was waiting for you to find my report, which I guess is my fault you didn't, and when nothing happened I decided to confront Coilvert over there."
"But you're a criminal!" Velocity cried out
"No I'm not, I committed no crimes"
"But you…" Miss Militia commented "You're a criminal, and you…"
"Uhm, I just said I'm not a criminal."
"Ma'am," Armsmaster interrupted "I have reason to believe Rogue has a secondary stranger power that can…"
"Of course!" Velocity yelled out "She's trying to make us believe she's innocent!"
"Call in Master/Stranger Protocols Director! She's making a run for it!" All of the Protectorate except for Armsmaster began to draw their weapons and target her.
"I'm not though! " She yelled in reply "I'm standing right here. Director, you have my report, I haven't done anything illegal."
"There is a stranger effect emanating from you," Armsmaster replied "It's causing…"
*Beep*
The director had her hand beneath her desk, and Armsmaster looked like he was sighing heavily.
"Director," Armsmaster let out exasperatedly "She is innocent."
"I don't know, she seems rather suspicious." Piggot replied
"Really! I mean really! "Ashley yelled out "I have proof and you just… You know what? I've been through M/S protocols before. FUCK. THAT. Call me when you're done." Then she chose the coordinates to her home, and jumped.
A few seconds passed before Armsmaster spoke up again.
"Director?"
"Yes?"
"You put us all through M/S because her power appears to make her seem guilty." Armsmaster sighed out
"Oh."
"Goddamn it."
"Shit."
The room filled with foam, and all was quiet.