September 8, 2009. Tuesday 1650 hours
"Armsmaster? You have a dog?"
"For the moment at least. Down, boy."
"Why do you have a dog?"
"Doolittle is currently in the lobby. She's been delayed because everyone wants to pet her animals and get pictures with the ninja mice."
"Oh. Doolittle is the temporary assigned name for the cape previously known as 'Power Girl'?"
"Yes."
"And a little Scottish Terrier is to test her enhance and empower abilities?"
"Exactly."
"And what happens to the poor little guy afterwards?"
"Goes back to Trooper Sanderson, most likely, who was planning on selling puppies. This one is a year old, apparently nobody wanted him."
"Or the market for purebred dogs is just crappy in this economy."
"Well, that too."
"You're scritching his ears."
"It's... oddly calming."
"Ah, here she is. Doolittle. That's a temporary name until you choose a better one. I think that was just because of the whole 'talk to the animals' thing. I'm Assault and this is Armsmaster. Which you probably already knew but I got to checkmark we did introductions. Paperwork."
"Yes, well, I see you brought your dogs with you. These are the ones in the photos you provided?"
"Yes, there's Gus. Well, I named him Gus but he tells me he wants to be called Ace. Locke is the bulldog. Don't make fun of his top hat or monocle, he really likes them. Taco is the dachshund that keeps blurring around the room. Hope is the glowing blue corgi. The ninja mice squad are around... somewhere."
"First we'll try out your ability to enhance animals. I have sensors and recording equipment running, so if you can try your power on this dog."
"I can only do animals that are my minions in some way. They can have more than one human in their life, but I have to have some form of connection I think."
"Here's a dog treat."
"Ah, and... there! Enhance and empower!"
* Armsmaster PoV *
The change was obvious. The Scottish Terrier weighed perhaps 15 pounds tops, being a particularly tiny one with a notched ear and a lower left leg that looked slightly twisted. Which still worked apparently, but no doubt was an explanation for why the dog had been passed over by other people looking for a pet.
Between one second and the next the dog changed. Perhaps 30 pounds total, twice the size it had been. The coat had looked a bit scruffy but now looked glossy and soft. The notched ear remained but that leg had straightened out.
It now looked about the room with obvious intelligence, then went straight for...
"Wait, no, that's my workbench... it's dan... ger... ous?"
The dog was seizing things in its mouth, nudging them with clumsy paws, and fitting together parts as quickly as it possibly could.
"A Tinker fugue," I realized. They happened after all. I'd seen recordings made of myself when I was in one such. Losing track of the outside world as ideas flowed through you as if a dam had burst and a river of thoughts and concepts threatened to flood one's being unless one got the basics down NOW.
"You got a dog Tinker?" asked Assault as he watched bits and pieces being assembled. "I wonder if environment plays a part in that. Or maybe you being present for this test influenced it."
I nodded. Further experimentation sounded needed.
Manipulator arms were added, a harness developed, and the dog slipped into it and barked once to cause an automatic process to contract the harness to fit into place around the dog.
"What are you making?" asked Doolittle.
"Arf!" indicated the dog.
"Manipulator arms and a neuro harness?" asked Doolittle. "Oh, and what's your name?"
"Arf!" declared the dog.
"Scotty," I decided. "Scottish terrier and an engineer. Some things have to be done."
"Agreed," said Assault, sounding surprised for some reason.
The dog glanced back at me, nodded, and continued working.
After a few moments I stepped up to the bench and figured out where this going and started assisting.
It just seemed right to do so.
"A dog. Tinker." Director Emily Piggot twitched just a little in her chair.
"Yes," said Armsmaster, sounding pleased.
"Eff," agreed Scotty.
Director Piggot looked at the little glossy black dog with a certain degree of suspicion. "Any further insights into Doolittle's power or its limitations?"
"Her power is Minion Empowerment," said Armsmaster. "Further testing is required to be certain but apparently the animal has to be a something she has authority over. Scotty manifested physical changes and immediately went into a frenzy of building which ended only when the manipulator arms harness was completed. He then was able to indicate that he would require a substantial amount of food in order to deal with the food requirements to stabilize the greater mass."
"So the changes are permanent?" asked Director Piggot.
"Still pending further testing, I suspect the answer will be both yes and no. Purely physical changes supported by an enhanced physiology will remain without Doolittle renewing her power on the animal in question. Paradog powers on the other hand may fade out without a renewal." Armsmaster shook his head. "Doolittle's power has a truly intriguing potential and seems to flout several of the rules normally associated with powers."
"Any chance of the enhanced animals posing a widespread threat?" asked Director Piggot.
"Beyond that of typical animals of their size, unlikely." Armsmaster indicated Scotty. "Scotty here could develop weapons technology but seems disinclined to do so."
The little (thirty pounds was still a little dog in Director Piggot's opinion) Scottish Terrier nodded at that, showing he was still following the conversation.
"No range from Doolittle required?" asked Director Piggot.
"Not noted," said Armsmaster, checking a chronometer built into one of his gauntlets. "By now Doolittle and her father are home."
"Is she joining the Wards?" asked Director Piggot. Having adult supervision and some measure of control here would certainly put her mind more at ease. Though a bio-manipulator gave her some serious problems, it would be hard to look at Nilbog's monsters and Doolittle's paranimals in the same light.
There was, after all, a significant difference between a desire to help and a desire to kill.
"Tentatively yes," said Armsmaster, sounding quite pleased about that. "Her father wants to go over all contracts before anything is signed."
"Good," said Director Piggot. Way too many parents on finding their children had powers were too quick to sign anything if it made that someone else's problem. "We have their identities then?"
"Yes, it wasn't hard. Her father drove here in his own truck and Doolittle's mask does very little to change the contours of her face. It even fell off at one point." Armsmaster shook his head slightly. "I gave them the PRT booklet #4, hopefully they will read that and adjust their behavior."
Director Piggot nodded. Trooper Ayako Nogiwa had already gotten a commendation for that little pamphlet: "So now you're a parahuman. The basics of survival." It was written simply and dealt with the most common mistakes (some fatal, some only potentially so) that new capes made. Such as using an easily traceable vehicle to go to meetings in their cape identity.
"Her power does present some hurdles to maintaining a secret identity," noted Armsmaster.
"So when are you returning the dog to his owner?" asked Miss Militia, breaking her silence from where she'd been sitting through the meeting.
"I'm not. Sanderson has already been paid and I've filed the paperwork to be Scotty's owner," said Armsmaster, sounding slightly embarassed. "Down boy."
Scotty collected himself and went off to sit next to Armsmaster and seeming to be both happy and proud.
"I see." Director Piggot mused over that, then decided it was unlikely to be a Master situation. Simply the dog was still a dog despite having at least near-human intelligence.
"I have also filed Form 19940403-PDR-3C, in order to list Scotty as a sidekick of mine as well as 19960217-PDR-1D as a shared minion with Doolittle," said Armsmaster.
"I see," repeated Director Piggot. She leaned over her desk to stare directly at the dog. "I expect you to conform to all applicable rules of behavior."
One of the dog's manipulator arms managed a quick salute.
"Good," said Director Piggot. She thought a bit. "What about cats? Birds? If she has someone human under her authority, can they be given temporary powers?"
"These and many more tests are already on the list," admitted Armsmaster.
* September 10, 2009 *
* Vista *
There had been some talk overheard about a potential new Ward. This was exciting. Being the lone girl on the team was a bit of a bummer. Not many Wards at this point, and often she felt she'd been shifted over to cheerleader or team mascot. She was a Shaker 9 damnit!
"Incoming. Prospective Ward," announced Miss Militia over the intercom.
"You suppose it's Doolittle?" asked Aegis.
"She didn't like that name," said Triumph. "She's going by Huntsman now."
"That's not much better," said Aegis.
"She's a she so shouldn't she be Huntsperson or Huntswoman or something?" asked Vista. Then the door opened and reactions changed.
"PUPPIES!" exclaimed Vista. "So it IS Huntswoman."
Suddenly she had a Corgi flying (literally) in and trying to lick her face. A German Shepherd that hmphed and began looking over the room. A HUGE bulldog who hesitated but then tried to corner Aegis in order to beg a piece of his Hot Pocket.
On the other hand, she had a flying Pembroke Welsh Corgi trying to reach her face in order to lick it.
Not like this was a BAD thing.
"No, Huntwoman just sounds off. Huntress is already taken - she's a cape in New Jersey," said Miss Militia. "She's a Thinker 3, able to track things and people."
"Hope, down! Locke, stop begging. You just had a snack. Ace... nobody is going to attack you."
"Maybe," rumbled a voice from Ace.
"You... talk?!" asked Triumph.
"Scotty whipped up some collars that allow them to speak, before that they could understand but not answer," said the new cape.
"Growing. Hungry. Smell good," put in Locke.
"Doesn't matter," said the new cape. "It's not polite."
"I take it this is the '1.0' version of the dog speaking collar?" asked Triumph.
"Yes," said Ace.
"So, limited vocabulary," said Triumph with a nod. "Got it."
"There's an update planned to allow for a better interface," said the new cape.
"Triumph," said Triumph, jerking a thumb at himself.
"Vista, and... oh my god! Ninja Mice!"
"Squeak," said a mouse in a ninja outfit, clenching a fist in Declarative Stance #3.
Vista made a happy noise.
"Squeak," squeaked the same mouse, looking satisfied.
"Seriously? 'A ninja's life is full of drama'?" Huntswoman sounded long-suffering for a moment.
"Squeak," agreed the ninja.
"So, prospective Ward?" asked Vista, thinking that getting another girl on the team + dogs was pretty much an awesome combination. Plus a mouse in a little ninja costume. Really, was there a down side?
"Thinking about it," said Huntswoman, shrugging slightly. "I see the benefits, but there's having my friends here poked and prodded and experimented on. I have some problems with that."
"As you should," commented Triumph.
Miss Militia looked like she wanted to say something, but remained silent and just observed the byplay.
"Tasty," said Locke as he licked his lips. He'd successfully acquired a tiny little bite of Hot Pocket after all. He had his priorities.
* Cauldron *
"...and that's it for Death Reaver."
"His name is Death Reaver and his ability is hydrokinesis of small streams of water?" asked Doctor Mother.
"To be fair, he IS six years old," pointed out Contessa.
"Fine. Next one?" prompted Doctor Mother.
"Temporary name: Huntswoman. Power is Minion Enhancement without command effects," said Alexandria, bringing up the next file so that it populated on their tablets. "Some anomalies. Her power is difficult to track or path though. Still, it decreases significantly the number of steps to save the world so there's that."
"Nature of anomalies?" asked Doctor Mother.
"They're stronger than one would expect," said Alexandria. "The dachshund named Taco has been measured running at speeds well in excess of Mach 3."
"That's one fast weiner dog," noted Doctor Mother.
"Mice that have a Stranger rating, all these enhanced minions having near-human levels of intelligence," stated Alexandria. "She also has a Thinker, a Tinker, and a teleporting Mover."
"The teleporter can take others with it?" asked Doctor Mother. On receiving a nod from Alexandria, she raised an eyebrow and summed up her reaction. "Useful."
"Further testing required to determine full extent of Huntswoman's abilities," stated Alexandria.
"Who is handling the testing?" asked Doctor Mother, scrolling the report on her tablet. "Ah. Armsmaster. Hopefully he won't get too narrowly focused on some minor aspect."
"I'll have Dragon assist, the dogs might be useful with the usual canine senses and things like super-speed when it comes to Search & Rescue." Alexandria made a note on her own tablet. "Next on the newly triggered list is in Truth or Consequences in New Mexico. Bumblebee, an insect-controlling Master. Classified as a rogue or a joke villain, depending on who you ask. Mainly interested in the industrial uses of bees and selling various bee-related products like honey and honeycombs and royal jelly. Also helping to increase the numbers of agricultural bees by pushing the reproductive rates up."
"Depending on her limitations, that is also potentially useful," admitted Doctor Mother. "Pity she's not in someplace with a higher conflict rating but maybe the Slaughterhouse will visit and give her a nudge towards a more combative role."
* PRT ENE HQ *
Huntswoman's father was filling out paperwork. She would be in the Wards and that meant a measure of control and training regarding Huntswoman. On that front, there was a moment of satisfaction with Director Emily Piggot. The girl seemed a little bit shy, but tended to get very chatty once she accepted soemone was actually friendly towards her.
"Squeak?"
Director Emily Piggot glanced at the four ninja mice on her desk. "So. Technically I'm your boss now because I'm in the chain-of-command regarding Huntswoman?"
"Squeak! Squeak?"
"No, I'm just getting better at figuring out mouse ninja body language."
"Squeak!" was the impressed squeak from the lead ninja mouse.
"Also the one in orange is holding up cue cards," pointed out Director Piggot.
The lead mouse let out an entirely understandable long-suffering sigh before glaring at his subordinate.
"It's actually fairly helpful," pointed out Director Piggot. "So you want missions? Seeing as you are ninja after all."
"Squeak," squeaked Hattori.
Director Piggot thought a few moments. Ninja mice specialized in being unseen, so something sneaky. Something that would keep them off her desk. Something long term so she wasn't micromanaging mice. Something simple enough that mice could manage it. She truly doubted their combat abilities - mice after all - so that sort of thing was off the table. Keep them busy, off desks and out of everyone's way. Ninja, from what little she knew of them historically, were that they were actually spies and assassins.
"Ah, I have just the thing," said Director Piggot. "It's a long term mission that has to be done in complete secrecy. Are your mice up to it?"
From the way two of the subordinate mice perked right up, it looked like this was the right method of dealing with this.
"You need to be unseen, unheard, shadows that pass without trace," said Director Piggot. Damn, that one mouse was actually quivering with stiff-whiskered excitement. She'd known troopers like that, back in her day. "We may have a problem with moles in our organization."
"Squeak?" asked the lead ninja mouse. Director Piggot waited for the subordinate to finish writing out a translation before shaking her head. "Not moles as in the burrowing mammal. Moles as in people under my authority who are working for someone else like one of the criminal gangs. I need someone trustworthy and dependable to find them, then report back to me with evidence. Can you do this?"
The lead ninja did a little fist-to-chest salute and bow, then all four were off her desk and off on their "mission" - she didn't really expect anything of this. Mice after all. If they found something and it turned out to be valid, so much the better.
* Downstairs, several days later *
Thomas Calvert looked around, pushing away from his desk to get a better view. He kept getting a feeling he was being watched. That was ridiculous of course. He did several timelines that he immediately discarded where he did something to draw out a watcher and nothing happened. Yet that feeling persisted.