1.3

-- Tanya von Degurechaff --

We soon arrived at Tattletale's 'hideout.'

"A disaster relief shelter? Not very hidden, is it?"

She startled at the sound of my voice. She'd been kind enough to let me stew in silence the last several minutes of our walk, despite not knowing the reason for it. Well, maybe she guessed. No secret that soldiers die in war, after all.

"Ah, but that's what makes it perfect. What sort of supervillain spends her off hours providing shelter to the dispossessed?"

I again reflected that I didn't want to live in a world where that sort of reasoning made sense, but since when has that mattered?

"Very well. One moment."

"Weiss, Koenig, we've arrived. Come down discreetly a couple blocks away, then walk over. Everyone, disguise your uniforms with illusions. Don't drop your mage shells and maintain low level reflex enhancement."

Of course, if Tattletale was lying about the lack of magic detectors, these 'disguises' would in fact draw a great deal more attention. If so, better to learn that now. If she was lying about that, she was probably lying about other things, but the authorities almost certainly wouldn't move straight to shelling a relief camp, and, if Dauntless was indicative of the quality of the local 'heroes,' we could deal with whatever else they might send.

If it came to that I resolved to kill Tattletale first. If she can truly read my intentions, the one bright spot was the ease of making credible threats. I looked over at her and noted a gratifyingly wide eyed stare. Well, gratifying in the moment. The implications were disturbing. How could I negotiate with someone who could effectively read my mind? If I depended on her for information, how could I ever be sure she wasn't just telling me what she needed to get me to do what she wanted? Maybe she wasn't worth the--

"Let's eat! The cafeteria here is nothing special, but I get the impression 'nothing special' would be an improvement for you."

Well, I could always kill her after lunch. Soon enough the five of us entered the campus. Tattletale lead us past the reception area into a sparsely occupied outdoor cafeteria. I immediately noted a pair of... ugh, I guess I have to call them 'henchmen.' Henchmen with slung assault rifles. No masks, so probably not mages. Rapid fire, even from the relatively piddly intermediate cartridge those guns fired, certainly could break a mage shell. It would take 2 seconds, maybe? I had to interpolate because guns of that sort hadn't yet been invented on my previous world. Regardless, plenty of time to react.

Of course, hiding your mages as normal soldiers to stage an ambush is an obvious tactic. I felt no magic from them, which at this distance meant they could at most be hiding only some very light internal spells. Given that we're keeping our spells up, we should have a decisive advantage if they began any serious casting. I watched my men and made sure they noted the threat and came to the correct conclusions regarding it. They wouldn't know the particulars of those guns, but they should still be able to draw the right answer. Thankfully, I could practically see the same thoughts pass behind each of their eyes. I gave them a nod and a smile.

From the regular patrons, we attracted some glances, but really not too many. I'd disguised my uniform as a nondescript, somewhat grimy hoodie and a pair of similarly grimy jeans, as appeared to be the dominant local fashion. The rifles were a little unusual, but not too much; most of the people here were armed in some fashion.

The food was about what you'd expect: dry cereal, gruel, canned goods. And Tattletale was right, it was incredible. If I never see another sausage in my life it'll be too soon. They even had coffee, though it turned out to be so abysmal I couldn't finish my cup. And to my muted surprise, I discovered I was famished. When had I last ate? The recent past was a bit of a blur. Not the complete blank I'd expected, but little details and the precise chronology were hard to pin down. I suppose I'll have to keep closer track myself, now that-- now that no one's going to do it for me.

After we'd taken the edge off, I restarted the conversation.

"If we're to integrate into this community, we need to know more about the local distribution of forces. Tell me about these 'heroes' and 'villains.' Who is Leviathan, and who is growing these clones?"

And so she launched into a frankly bizarre series of explanations. Mages dressing up in silly costumes and calling themselves things like 'Miss Militia' and 'Laser Dream?' Well, it's a comic book world, I suppose there's no way out of the basic conventions of the genre. Though even if Being X had arranged for our kidnapping to the most absurd world he could find, surely there must still be some internal logic to its absurdity? I couldn't bring myself to care enough to ask.

More odd was how she described their 'superpowers,' as though each mage could cast only one or two spells. And most of these spells I'd have no idea how to recreate. I'm no expert in magical theory, but I like to think I have a good grasp on the fundamentals. And on the practical application of magical violence I can claim without too much boasting to have been among the very best on my previous world. But turning dogs into elephant sized monsters, and then turning them back? I hadn't the faintest clue how to accomplish that.

Well, this world has had several additional decades to research obscure spells, I guess. But why would you even want to? If you can perform complicated biological transformations at range, surely it would be easier to just turn your enemies into corpses directly? Or outside of combat, wouldn't an animal more used to labor, like a horse or donkey, make more sense? Though, frankly, a modern world shouldn't have much use for beasts of burden of any sort. And these 'Undersiders' used them as their principal means of transport? Why not just fly? Well, I had an idea about that. I cut off Tattletale's meandering digression into the Pelhams' relative capabilities with the four simple spells that apparently comprised their whole repertoire.

"Oh, I think I get it. All the A and B rank mages are conscripted, right? You're talking about the dregs, who are forced to specialize and practice intensely to manage a couple combat viable spells? Perhaps you have specialized orbs, too?"

It made a lot of sense. It explained the deplorable state of training I'd observed in the local mages, the variety in their 'powers,' and the comparatively tiny amount of magic I'd felt from Regent and Skitter. Well, I'm still not sure why someone would choose to specialize in some of these spells, but I guess people make odd choices sometimes. In a capitalist society, it's naturally up to the customer to decide what they want, and the magical researchers and orb developers simply provide in return for a tidy profit.

The expense would have been exorbitant in my last life, but perhaps computers could streamline the process into something manageable for a wealthy individual or small organization to sponsor a promising young C rank mage or two. Tattletale had said something about corporate teams, hadn't she? All and all I felt pretty pleased with my deduction. Weiss's increasingly baffled expression had also morphed into understanding. Koenig still looked confused, but I think his Albish just wasn't good enough to keep up. Granz wasn't even trying, electing instead to focus on our surroundings. I approved, though we'd really need to all master the local language sooner or later.

But surely they could leave a few true mages behind to maintain order? The quantity and relative success of magical criminals Tattletale had described to me couldn't be good for the war effort. Well, Dauntless was probably B rank. Absolute bottom of the barrel in terms of skill, but shuffling off the worst of the lot to man the home front made some sense. Of course, it'd make more sense to do the opposite: award some tiny number of safe peacekeeping roles to the best of the best. You lose some aces that way, but the bulk of your conscripts will work their hardest in training, instead of slacking off for a chance to get out of the war they want no part in, only to find themselves thrust onto the front lines anyway. But I know better than anyone that military bureaucracy simply doesn't think that way, so it wasn't evidence against this theory. Oh, and this could solve my Tattletale issue neatly, too. I obviously couldn't trust her not to use her 'power' on me, but if she could surrender her orb while we spoke, I wouldn't have to trust. Actually, if I can get that specialized orb and learn to use it, I wouldn't really need Tattletale at all.

Tattletale just stared at me while I mentally patted myself on the back.

Finally, she responded "No, I think you actually don't get it. I'm not sure what a lot of what you just said means, but I'm still sure it was wrong in every particular."

Hmm. Perhaps she picked up on my last thought and now wanted to dissemble. I quirked an eyebrow and waited for her to elaborate.

She took a few seconds to put her thoughts together, then continued "OK, I'm going to walk you through the absolute basics so we can figure out where we lost common ground."

And so she did. Scion, the triumvirate, the endbringers, the (virtually nonexistent) role of parahumans in the military, trigger events, and prt power classifications. A lot of it was incredible, but a lot of it was also easily verified.

"Ser-- Weiss, go speak to some of these people. Try to confirm some of these details. Maintain your cover as a local, but it's fine to let them think you're weird or dumb."

Weiss gave me a put upon look. Koenig clapped him on the back.

"No need for that look, my friend. You were going to do it anyway, so it's good to get permission."

Weiss shook his head and got up as Granz guffawed and I suppressed a smile at the familiar antics. Good to see them in high spirits, after all the grim seriousness lately. I guess the prospect of a whole new world to put their mark on had the lovable war maniacs fired up. Tattletale just rolled her eyes.

"Why would I lie about things you could easily check?"

I snorted "You wouldn't, but only because you knew I would check. Therefore I have to check, even knowing your story will be confirmed."

Was that a bit of frustration I saw on her face? Confirmation my strategies to limit her advantage were working? I was considering the possibility of a double bluff when she interjected, now just looking irritated.

"You know we're not enemies, right? I want things from you, and you want things from me. Why not just collaborate for our mutual benefit?"

I considered her words while Koenig interjected this time, accent thick.

"Clearly. You are too lively to be enemy to the colonel."

The reply was essentially automatic while I continued to think.

"Thank you, Lieutenant, but I assure you I can handle threatening Tattletale myself."

"Yes ma'am."

It was... disturbing that Tattletale had to be the one to propose the commonsense arrangement. I put my suspicions aside for the moment. When had I begun to default to violence and threats to solve my all problems? Of course, there's no place for that sort of thinking in war. War is a matter of mutual detriment, not benefit, and my job as a soldier was just to ensure the enemy hurt worse. It's the role of diplomats to try to extract something of value out of the whole sordid mess, and the Empire didn't send A rank children off to become diplomats. But I'm free of the war now, and I'm not truly this child, who's known little else. Of course, Being X would not just allow me to put aside this persona and return to living in accordance with my principles, my first minutes on this world had already proven that, but... when did I stop trying?

I let that thought sit in my mind for a moment as I finally collected myself... and turned towards the cause of this little identity crisis. I could practically feel the smugness radiating off her. Oh, her poker face wasn't bad, but I'd played cards with-- Well, the smugness faded rapidly as she took in my expression. I'd known she was dangerous. I mean, obviously, I'd be an utter failure of an officer if I didn't understand how you could exploit intel to hurt someone. But this... even knowing she planned it, even knowing her words were a tool to control me, I couldn't make myself dismiss my realization.

We'd exchanged what, a hundred words? And she'd found a fault line in my mind I didn't know about, that I'm certain no one knew about. And was this the only one she found, which just so happened to work out to her benefit? Doubtful. What would the others do? I almost killed her then, before she could say another word, reflex enhancement rapidly building from the low level I was maintaining constantly to full combat readiness, little mage blades appearing over my fingernails.

Was I overreacting? Was I falling back on violence because it had become comfortable? Probably, but could I trust that judgment? To what extent could she plot out the course of my thoughts? Granz and Koenig, ever faithful, followed suit an instant later, not understanding the threat but trusting my judgment. But even so, something made me hesitate. Was I really going to kill some civilian, some kid because of how she spoke to me? I'd... killed civilians and kids before, but I'd had orders. My own back was to the wall. Well, maybe not always on orders. Things got chaotic in battle, and I can't guarantee there was never any collateral. Especially recently... the pursuit was a confusing mess, whole units turning on their commissars and fleeing into the Russy night. But I couldn't regret that, could I?

Still, this? No orders, no ambiguity, no promise, no noble cause to wipe away all stains. Just murdering a teenager over words. No, not yet. My safety and personal autonomy comes before my principles, always, but I could afford her one more chance to let me have both. I let my mage blades fade and slowly relaxed my reflex enhancement, causing Granz and Koenig to do the same. But I kept enough enhancement to watch Tattletale's poker face break in slow motion, only speaking to interrupt her as she tried to correct course.

"Every parahuman power is a weapon, isn't that what you said? Do that again and I will kill you. No more chances. Now, I think we need to have a brief conversation in private."

"I-"

"Don't speak. Just lead the way."

"Koenig, Granz, gather Weiss and position yourselves around the main building. If you feel me spin up my full combat suite, kill the guards and fly. I'll join you shortly. This shouldn't take long either way."