Rejoice for me, Rubrics, for I have returned.
Mourn for me, Rubrics, for I still do not own Worm or Warhammer 40k and therefore lack the ego boost such would give me.
TTS references aside, I hope you enjoy. As an aside, I intend to go back and re-jig the ending of the last Chapter at some point, I just don't have time right now and thought you would prefer a new chapter over some slight changes.
The wall of Taylors cellar lair was cold stone, chill enough that it felt almost damp against the back of her skull but she found it oddly comforting as she sat there, slumped. She had left a brief note for her Dad, a short message to tell him that she couldn't sleep and had gone for a walk. She hoped he didn't find it before she got back, though. He would just worry about her running into muggers or whatever.
The thought of that brought a brief and tiny smile to her lips. He cared, at least. He might not be the perfect parent, but at least he cared. That aside, however, she had larger concerns.
'Why are we having visions like that now?' she demanded, closing her eyes and letting the coldness of the wall seep through her skin and cool the incipient headache. The Emperor made a noise of aggravation.
"As I said, we have had a similar vision before. One almost certainly connected with Coil. And it happened when we were sleeping, too…perhaps because, while we are awake, we focus our pre-cognition upon immediate threats."
'We weren't pre-cognitive when we had the first vision.' Taylor argued, albeit weakly. The Emperor dismissed the thought.
"We could not use it purposefully, no, but we still had the potential. As I have said before, it seems that our initial focus upon telekinesis stifled our other abilities somewhat."
'I'm still suspicious about that.' Taylor grumbled. She let out a long sigh.
'So. We saw an alternate past. How?'
"It is not uncommon for visions to follow a different path than reality. Mainly, of course, because the one who sees the vision will almost invariably act upon it…not all prophecies are self-fulfilling."
'But we didn't see the vision until afterwards, meaning that we weren't the ones who made the difference. That means that the one who made the difference was…Coil.'
"Yes. However, it would be a mistake to assume that his powers are pre-cognitive. Visions are frequently difficult to interpret…it may be that the vision we saw had some entirely different meaning."
'Occams Razor. Coil is a pre-cog, which is why he was able to predict the coin tosses like the merc told us. He pre-cog…ed…sending in the Travellers, saw the absolute shitshow that commenced, and called it off. But then why would we see it? And…he didn't call it right every time. The merc said that he got heads every time, that's not something that being a pre-cog could help with. Ugh.'
A pause.
"I know that you do not like this reasoning, but not everything can be explained logically. Especially when related to the Warp. There may simply be no logical explanation."
'But you still have some wild, out-there theory.'
"Several. Firstly, it is possible that Coil is not in fact a pre-cognitive. There may be some other reason behind the alteration of the timeline, one which has us as the base…which is why we are seeing it."
'Because somehow, something we did led to the Travellers not being sent in or…our other vision…or the Undersiders raiding the bank and drawing us away. But we can't have done anything. There isn't anything I can think of that could change things like that.'
"Perhaps it is something we did not do." The Emperor said ominously. He cleared his throat and continued, without waiting for Taylor to fully process that.
"And yet, it may also be that the Warp is working in some way unknown to us. Even after millennia, I do not understand the Warp. I daresay that even the oldest beings do not understand the Warp…certainly the Old Ones, for all their mastery of it's manipulation, did not understand the Immaterium."
'Otherwise they wouldn't have pushed too hard and turned the Realm of Souls into a non-stop clusterfuck.' Taylor completed, finishing the tangent. The Emperor grunted in agreement before continuing.
"And warp-granted visions are often difficult, to say the least. To call them perplexing is to vastly understate the situation. It is possible this vision is warning of something else entirely, the vision itself merely a vessel for another lesson."
'I think I'm getting a migraine.'
"Usually the correct response. Regardless, my second theory around Coil. It is not unknown for visions in the Warp to be shared or seen by more than one being. And it is entirely possible- likely, even- that our Warp presence would draw us into a vision controlled and caused by another being who possesses power in the Warp."
Taylor took a moment to think about that, a chill settling in her spine as she realised what The Emperor was pushing towards.
'You think Coil might be Warp sensitive? An Eldar?'
"I do not like to discount the possibility."
Taylor shuddered at the thought of an Eldar being present. Especially considering that with the Warp so quiet here, the Eldar would be free to act as it pleased, without fear of repercussion. And given the way that the Eldar Empire had acted- but then.
'No.'
"No?"
'No. I can't see it. I mean, I can maybe see an Eldar being sneaky enough to act like Coil, and I can understand the whole vision thing, but there's a whole bunch of problems. One: we would have felt it. Right now, the Warp is so quiet it would have screamed out to us. Two: there's no way an Eldar would have stayed around as long as Coil has and not done something. They might be ok at long term planning, but their arrogance always makes them rash. And three- and this is really most important- how would an Eldar even get here? You made it, yeah, but you're a being of ludicrous power who was chained up to the Golden Throne and intertwined with the Astronomicon. I can't see an Eldar getting here the same way you did, much less before you did.'
The Emperor considered that.
"All good points." He conceded. Taylor nodded to herself.
'We won't throw the theory out completely- where there's a Warp there's a way. But leave it as a wildcard and assume that Coil just has some kind of seer ability. So how do we deal with that?'
"In my experience, you cannot. Attempting to out-think a seer requires an immense amount of effort and time and, in many ways, is contingent upon the seer themselves. Multiple plans is often the best way, plans that can be altered immediately- for, after all, if you have four plans to victory it matters not if your foe has countered two or even three. The other option is to- well, to simply overpower your foe. Knowing what will happen does not necessarily mean you can prevent it."
'Brute force solves everything?'
A chuckle in the back of her mind.
"A crippling blow is a crippling blow, regardless of response. If your foe chooses a broken arm over broken ribs, is he not still injured? We will deal with this as it comes, and crush Coil's schemes as they are laid. But that is not the thing most important here."
Taylor opened her eyes for a moment before she let her chin slump onto her chest and closed them again.
'Isn't it?'
She had a faint inkling of what the Emperor wanted to talk about, but she didn't intend to make it easy for him. He seemed utterly unperturbed, annoyingly enough.
"At least we are aware that our powers are not inaccessible. You were probably even stronger than when we fought Lung."
Oh look, a tangent. Taylor refused to acknowledge it, because she was not going to crack first.
'Yeah, and it was fucking me up. I don't know if you felt it, but it was like someone had jammed a blender into my insides.'
Almost unwillingly she remembered the agony, feeding it into the Warp in exchange for power. It had been a paradox, she understood, her powers tearing her body apart even as she used them to keep herself together. She remembered the sheer power of it, the empty satisfaction of seeing the Traveller pyro's fingers twist and tear and shatter inside a vacuum vortex and shivered lightly. While she wouldn't mind being able to access that level of power again, she'd prefer that it didn't turn her into a bleeding, shambling wreck with insides more like jam than flesh.
"Wise." The Emperor said, his voice filled with amused sarcasm. Taylor ignored it.
'I frequently am.'
"Hmm."
Taylor leaned back again, sighing. Alright. Looked like she would have to broach the topic after all.
'Y'know, it's almost funny. All that posturing I've done about not killing people, and then I see I'm more than capable of snapping and laying waste to anyone within range. It makes the whole thing a little…I don't know. Disconcerting?'
"It makes you sharply aware of what you consider a weakness." The Emperor stated flatly. Taylor blinked.
'I-'
"Don't try and deny it, Taylor. Pertinent as your excuses are- that the PRT and the Protectorate would turn upon you, that you might start killing and never be able to stop, even that it might turn your friends against you- really, you think it is a weakness. You hold yourself to a standard that is never going to truly be upheld by any other."
'You think it's wrong to try and never to kill? Wrong to think that we are not judge, jury and executioner? Wrong to think that everyone deserves a trial, a fair say?' Taylor demanded. Distantly, she knew the answer. She even knew her own answer. The Emperor laughed softly.
"To even ask me that question shows how the vision has affected you, Taylor. Do you really think that you should never kill? That we should never be judge, jury and executioner? That everyone should be given a fair trial?"
'…no.' Taylor admitted sourly. She took a deep breath.
What, no psychoanalysis for me?'
The Emperor snorted sardonically.
"I am not your personal therapist. Besides, you know the truth. I know the truth. To try and skirt around it with fumbling words is nothing short of asinine."
Taylor sighed aloud, suddenly very tired.
'Alright. Alright. You sure I can't just say that I'm frightened that it would be a slippery slope and if I started killing I wouldn't stop?'
A second snort, more derisive than the first.
"You aren't Batman, Taylor, and this isn't Gotham City."
Taylor frowned for a while, searching her memory until a faint remembrance of the comic he was referencing came to mind.
'How do you even know about that?'
"You would be amazed at how long that comic ran and how embedded it became in human pop culture in a world without parahumans."
'…huh. Regardless…the truth, right?'
"The truth."
'Alright, fine! So I don't want to kill anyone because it's going to make me an outcast all over again. I don't want to be ostracised again, even if you'll always be here and I'll never be truly alone again! Is that what you wanted?'
"Not what I wanted. But perhaps what you needed. Tell me, Taylor, since we talked of hard decisions- would you truly let a mass murderer or a serial killer live? Would you stay your hand in battle, take an injury in an attempt to spare the life of your foe?"
Taylor bowed her head, silent.
'No.'
The word hung heavy in her thoughts, an understanding that thickened her throat and sent a chill up her spine. She shook her head, laughed.
'I'm not who I was, am I? Heh- there's a much better example you could have used, you know?'
"Oh?"
'Oh, yeah. The PRT- their three strikes policy dictates that someone committing a serious crime three times gets sent to the Birdcage. The inescapable prison- what I hear, no-one can ever be freed. There was a little murmur of controversy when someone sent to the Birdcage was thought to be innocent but could never be freed, not that the PRT let it grow too big. But in that case- life sentence in an inescapable prison- why go to the trouble? Why not just kill them in battle and save them the time, and the expense of even building it?'
Taylor stood, a slight and ironic smile crossing her face.
'Really, what's the difference between killing someone like Oni Lee in combat and beating him down and sending him to the Birdcage? It's just a matter of time.'
"You did not think so before."
Taylor sighed again, stretching out and blinking against the tiredness.
'I know. I guess we'll see if it's a useful change.' she finished, slowly making her way from her lair. Best to head back to her house for the moment- she was fairly sure she would have a busy day, and she'd better be well rested for it.
Breakfast with her Dad was as awkward as she thought it would be. He just…didn't respond to anything out of the ordinary. She had even asked him if anything strange had happened at night, and his response had been utter confusion. She saw it in him- he knew something had happened, but the subconscious command was too strong. It was getting worse, in fact, and Taylor was in a dark mood after he left, stalking across to her lair as soon as she could.
"I suspect that it is not entirely your own fault, Taylor." The Emperor attempted to reassure her. Taylor clenched her fingers around the screwdriver in her hand until the handle creaked.
'If not mine, whose?' she demanded, aggressive. The Emperor made a noise that sounded a lot like he was clearing his throat.
"I suspect that he was already sunken into apathy, as you said. He was already attempting to ignore all strange things- which explains why the command is so strong. It is feeding off his own mentality."
'That's not much fucking use to me if we can't help him. In fact, it makes it worse! I need my powers back.'
Taylor ground her teeth for an instant before she turned on her heel and threw the screwdriver with a snap of her wrist, seeing it clatter into the wall and forcing down her rage.
'And I have an idea.'
"Do tell."
'In my vision, I had my powers back. The only reason I can't use them is because they are massively damaging to me if I use them on any sort of scale, true?'
"True."
'But. Is there any way that we could construct a device of some sort that will take away that damage? Some sort of insulating device, something like a Psychic Hood but super juiced up?'
Silence. Taylor waited.
"An intriguing idea, Taylor. Hmm…perhaps. A Psychic Hood does, after all, allow the wearer to dampen the powers of other nearby Psykers and that is more or less what we require, to dampen the effect of our powers upon ourselves. A project indeed…allow me to think more upon this, but I believe that it can be done. At least, to a certain scale."
'So long as I get at least some of my powers back.'
"You still have powers. Your biokinetic abilities grow daily, do they not?"
'Don't be smart, you know what I mean. I'd like to be able to punt people through walls with my mind again.'
"Always a worthy goal. I might suggest, however, that you take some time to reflect upon the vision we saw. Painful as it was, there are things we can learn from it."
Taylor grunted in annoyance, not particularly wanting to assess it again. Still, there was truth in what the Emperor said. She settled down to dissect one of the rifles she had looted, letting the work calm her as she thought.
'Alright. So we know that Coil has more Parahuman muscle than we expected- first the Undersiders and now the Travellers, whoever they are. Two men, one woman, one shapeshifting thing. Seems like the Travellers have a chunk more firepower than the Undersiders though, with the whole fire-generation thing alongside a teleporter and the muscle the shapeshifter has and the last one. They got sent in like a reaction force, but I don't think they actually intended to kill anyone. The way they reacted to the…thing…suggested that it was an accident.'
"In turn, that would suggest that they did not expect the pyromancer to be able to actually harm Victoria. Which would imply that her powers may not quite be what the public is lead to believe."
'Yeah. Something to bear in mind if we ever go up against them again. Though if it's just me…don't get hit, I guess."
"Somehow, I imagine that not getting hit is simply the best idea in any combat."
'Well, yes. I guess.'
"Besides that, we know that the Travellers are not only working for Coil, but they are able to respond quickly to any threats. That means that we must take them into account should we move against Coil."
'Unless we just move against Coil himself. If he suffers a sudden aneurysm at his desk, what are they going to do about it?'
Another pause, loaded with some indefinable emotion.
"While I am not opposed to the idea, per se, it seems a little odd that you would suggest it."
Taylor paused in her dissection of the rifle, staring at the wall.
'If- Glory would have died if Coil had actually deployed the Travellers. Glory would have died. The Travellers would have died. And how many more would have died if I had gone through with my rampage? It's put a certain perspective on things.'
She frowned, trying to find a way to put her thoughts into order.
'I still don't want to kill. I'll be delighted if we can take down Coil without bloodshed. But if push comes to shove…it's like, you remember our talk about blood on your hands?'
"Taylor…I said it before, and I stand by it. Nobody is responsible for the people they kill but themselves. You are not responsible for anyone Coil kills if you leave him alive, just as you were not responsible for Hookwolf killing Squealer and Skidmark."
'But if Coil does something that makes me lose it…all the blood that is shed after that is on my hands. It's my fault. My weakness.'
Taylor bit her lip, almost unconsciously, the pain and slow trickle of blood down her chin bringing her attention back.
'Call it a weakness, but I don't want that on my conscience.'
"I don't think anybody who is sane would want it. But that does not mean it will not happen."
'Tch.'
Taylor turned her head away, changing the conversation with no need for subtlety.
'I can't make heads or tails of this rifle. The components are useful, but the design escapes me. It shouldn't work, no matter that it does.'
"Ah. Yes. The perennial problem of Tinkertech. As it happens, I have been considering the mechanics of tinkers." The Emperor announced. Taylor paused in her working, laying down the rifle in order to devote her full attention to him.
'Oh?'
"Yes. I believe that they have some similarity to the technology of the Orks, with power filling in the gaps of the technology. However, after considering the bombs of Bakuda that we took apart and this rifle before us now, I believe that is not all."
'So you think there's something else to it, something that makes Tinkertech work when by all rights it shouldn't?'
"Indeed. I am of the opinion- I cannot say this as a fact, but I believe it to be true- that Tinker powers are not as passive as is generally thought. I believe that Tinker powers act upon components as well as the Tinker themselves. A normal fuse becomes one hundred times as efficient. A power source takes the step from a battery to a miniature fusion reactor. The sources themselves become far more efficient and therefore can be packed into a much smaller area. A laser focusing lens is altered in such a way that a laser shotgun becomes a viable option, and so forth."
'And it can't be replicated by non-Tinkers because the components are uniquely altered in the tech.'
"Yes."
'Which makes a large portion of the tech useless to us, because we will never be able to replicate the components no matter how advanced our knowledge is, preventing us from replicating the more interesting and useful bombs that Bakuda made or creating weaponry with the more basic supplies as Tinkers can.'
"That is not so certain. we will not be able to replicate them perfectly, but perhaps, by studying them as we have been, we can understand how to recreate something like them in a different manner. And at the very least we can disassemble them and use the components for our own equipment- albeit with a certain amount of caution regarding the possible changes to the components."
'Maybe. But it isn't something that will happen quickly. Bloody Tinkers.'
"It is somewhat inconvenient, yes."
Taylor sighed, starting on stripping apart the rifle for parts before an idea struck and she glanced over her shoulder to where the frame of her power armour stood. It was about halfway completed, she estimated, most of the work on the muscle fibres and actual moving parts completed. She just needed to finish that- in itself an awkward and time-consuming task- and attach the armour plates to it. The plates themselves had mostly been printed, she just needed a reliable power source as far as resources for it went. So far, she had been unable to see a way to create a power source capable of powering the armour for any length of time, but maybe her idea would help with that.
'The armour…is there any reason that we couldn't use multiple smaller power cells to fuel it, rather than one large one?'
"Hmm. There is no reason, really, except that the design does not support it. But, crude as the design currently is, it will be a trivial matter to modify the design. There will be downsides."
'More points of failure, since if any one of the cells is destroyed the others won't have the power to run the suit. We could put in more than we need, redundancies. And as well as that, it's a lot easier to carry and replace smaller cells on the fly than a large one.'
"All true points. A redesign it is."
Taylor looked at the mess of partially deconstructed rifle and the half-finished suit and sighed. Yet more work for her, yet the thought of being able to storm around in power armour was enough to keep her going.
"Don't forget, your exam is soon and we will need to pass that."
'Yes, thank you for that reminder. Add it to the list of yet more bloody things to do.'
As it turned out, the exam was easy. Well, perhaps not easy, but Taylor had done some last minute studying and, after all, there were really two people working on it. At least it was done and Taylor had managed to wrangle her way to almost the same deal as before: she would study at home, attend to complete exams, and the school would fudge the books so that she appeared to have been present all the time. Not that it really mattered so long as her technology plans went through, but there was no reason to potentially cut herself off.
That didn't mean that she didn't begrudge the wasted time, though. Most of a day spent on exams was most of a day in which she wasn't working on her various projects. Not only her power armour and solar cells, but she was seriously considering altering her normal armour- or building a new set, really- in order to make herself a little more recognisable. Or, perhaps not recognisable since she was fairly obvious, but something that made her a little more heroic looking. She was seriously considering a new set of armour in a colour different from grey. White and gold, perhaps, in reference to New Wave and, to a certain extent, the all gold colour scheme of the Emperor, but she was still a little reluctant to commit to something like that. It would make her a lot less stealthy, for one.
"It would at least be more suitable for a social event." The Emperor had opined. He had mostly declined to give an opinion on it afterwards, however, admitting that it was hard to think of any colour combination without being reminded of the Space Marine Legions and the Primarchs who led them, and that was somewhere beyond a conversational landmine. Somewhere into a conversational minefield. In space. Nuclear mines. But anyway, that more or less made it purely Taylor's choice. She thought she would at least see how it looked. She had plenty of material for the ceramite and, besides, she had been meaning to create another backup set for a while. She shrugged to herself, burying herself in thoughts of plans and schematics as she walked, hands tucked into pockets and chin dipped. It wasn't cold, exactly, but there was a stiff breeze blowing. She relished the clean stinging in her skin, deciding that she would simply walk all the way home. It would take a while, but sometimes a long walk was just right to clear her head. And she liked to think that it helped to keep her grounded, seeing the state of the city not as a hero, or a vigilante, but just another anonymous citizen.
She couldn't vouch for how well that actually worked, since it mainly just fed the smouldering resentment she carried towards the state of her hometown, but still. That had to count for something.
"Be careful where you walk." The Emperor suddenly warned her. Taylor kept moving so as to not draw undue attention, heartrate suddenly increasing and attention sharply piqued.
'What? Is there danger?'
"Not danger precisely, but look to your left."
Taylor glanced in the direction and immediately saw what the Emperor was referring to. Three girls, clustered close together, three very familiar girls: Emma. Sophia. Madison. Taylor automatically hunched a little more, glad that the hood of her hoodie was raised to hide her face.
'I'd forgotten that the school would be getting out around now.' She admitted. She ducked her head a little, still watching them from the corner of her eye.
'I wonder if they've moved on to another target now, or if they would be pleased to see me.' She pondered. The Emperor snorted in the back of her head.
"I doubt they will have moved on. Perhaps they will still be bullying whoever takes their fancy, but I think it would not have the same intensity as against you."
'Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You think they would come after us if they saw us?'
"Hmm. Perhaps Emma, perhaps Madison would follow. But Sophia? I do not think she would follow were we to leave. After all, much of her aggression was predicated upon you not fitting into her simplistic worldview and philosophy. With you having left the school, she would presumably think that you have succumbed to your weakness and not follow, for the weak are below her notice unless they stand before her."
Taylor heard him out, her fist clenching in her pocket and jaw tightening. She couldn't find a fault with what he said, but- Taylor had a temper. She knew that full well, and it had only gotten worse since gaining her powers. Being reminded that Sophia would think her so weak as to be below her notice fed the embers of that temper, causing it to flare up. A further glance across, to where Sophia and the other two were clearly heckling a boy she vaguely recognised, pushed the anger higher and for a long, exultant moment Taylor almost turned and walked over to them, to confront the. The Emperor made no move to stop her and, strangely, that was what pulled her from her sudden fury, stopping in her stride and just looking at them. No. No, she couldn't go across. What would she say? What would she do? And acting out of character- Taylor didn't put it past Sophia to either realise something was wrong or report that something was wrong from sheer spite. And a member of the PRT arriving at her house, where her Dad lived with the mental blocks that she had placed upon him, would…
The rage was abruptly stifled, smothered by an ache in her chest and a painful hollowness in her throat. Taylor tilted her head down, blinking, closing her eyes for a long few seconds before opening them again and turning away. She couldn't afford to give herself away. Couldn't afford to arouse suspicion, especially couldn't allow herself to be open to revealing her identity. She had to simply walk away, like a coward. She walked slowly, hating every step but knowing it was necessary, leaving the boy- Greg, she thought despondently, Greg Veder- to the tender mercies of three bullies.
'Why didn't you stop me?' she asked, tiredly. The Emperor made a noise, like taking a deep breath.
"I have said before, Taylor. If I do everything for you, there is little point in this. I would not have let you reveal yourself, but I needed to know if you had truly understood our talk on decisions. If you were truly willing to sacrifice doing the moral thing for the right thing."
'Not stopping a bully is hardly the right thing.' She snapped in response. The Emperor's voice remained steady, level and implacable.
"Perhaps. But many children are bullied. He will, as the saying goes, get over it. What could you have done, Taylor? Walked across to them and stood up to them? Turned their words against them? No. You would have attacked them, in your anger. Would attacking a Ward have been the right decision?"
Taylor shook her head silently.
'No. Of course not.' She admitted. A wan, wry smile crossed her face.
'You know, I never even liked Greg Veder. He was always willing to stick up for me, but only when they weren't around. A weak-willed boy. I was never sure if he really had sympathy for me, or if he just thought it would be an easy way to get into my pants.'
"You may be misjudging him."
'Maybe. Your cynicism is affecting me.'
She walked on for several steps before sighing and speaking again.
'I think Sophia saw us. You were right, she didn't bother to come across.'
The dull ember of anger at that thought still burned, but she let it smoulder without rancour. She had time. And besides, there was always the thought, now coming through to her clearer head…
'I suppose it will just make it all the sweeter when I reveal who I am to them and tell them that they meant nothing to me. So little, that I didn't even bother to acknowledge them.'
A wintry smile graced her lips at the thought.
"Revenge is sometimes best served cold."
'Only sometimes?'
Instead of replying verbally the Emperor simply sent her a memory of Hookwolf tearing into Skidmark and Squealer, followed by a second one: Hookwolf, battered and beaten at her hands. Taylor's smile broadened into something more real, more wolfish.
'Only sometimes.'
The Forsberg Gallery, site of the fundraising gala, was something of an engineering marvel. Twenty-six stories, glass and steel, it was very…modern.
Personally, Taylor thought it was ugly and should probably be torn down for being an offence to good taste. But that was the sort of opinion best not shared with the people she would have to socialise with tonight. She sighed heavily before forcing herself to push away from the shadows she had been lurking in for the past few minutes and walk towards the entrance.
"Have you sufficiently worked yourself up, then?" The Emperor asked, voice full of amusement. Taylor scowled behind her new mask, refusing to answer. So she was a little apprehensive about throwing herself into a mob of the rich and powerful. She couldn't be blamed for that.
She mentally continued to justify as she approached the entrance. Several fully armoured PRT troopers waited there, two of them carrying heft tanks on their backs that bore a more than passing resemblance to flamethrowers- tanks of the fancy expanding foam that the PRT used, she assumed. Highly expansive and resistant to shocks, temperatures and most physical force, the foam was very effective at keeping parahumans trapped. Assuming you could get it onto them, of course, but…regardless. She greeted the man at the doorway who was dressed in a suit: a plainclothes officer, she presumed. Security would be high, and…she suddenly realised that there might be a problem. How was she supposed to identify herself when she wore a mask?
"That could prove a problem." The Emperor noted blankly. Taylor swore mentally, cursing at him, herself and everyone. The plainclothes officer raised an eyebrow as she approached.
"Circaetus." She said.
"I've had an invite, but…"
"You don't have any way to prove you are who you say you are?" the man asked, a tolerant smile gracing his face. Taylor shuffled, embarrassed. He chuckled.
"Don't worry, we'll have someone come down and sort all this out." He reassured her. Taylor nodded stiffly.
"Thanks." She murmured, tucking her hands into the pockets of her coat and waiting. Hopefully it would be someone who she knew.
She waited. And waited. And- it had only been a minute or two, but she was already starting to shuffle when a voice rang out.
"Circ! You made it!" enthused Glory, floating out of the doorway with a beaming smile. She stopped, doing a mid-air double-take as she took in the entirety of Taylor's costume.
"And you've got some new threads! Looking good."
Taylor smiled, relieved.
"Thanks, Glory." She said. She was, in fact, wearing her new armour. She had decided on white and gold eventually: her helmet was of much the same design, but the eyepieces had been split into two large, one way lenses for each eye, framed in gold against the blank white of the rest of the mask. Her breastplate was equally white, the Imperial Aquila upon her chest in gold. Her boots and vambraces were white with a single narrow band of gold down the centre, and her gauntlets were pure white. It made a striking contrast the darkness of her coat and the rest of her clothes, but Taylor suspected that she would be better off returning to her older, darker armour when actually out and about.
"I thought it was fitting, given how much you and your family have helped me." She explained, taking the moment to assess Glory. Glory- Victoria when out of costume, she supposed, but it was too weird for Taylor to stick with- was a vision of loveliness in a white evening gown. Taylor held no illusions though: Glory would be just as dangerous so dressed as in her normal costume. The advantages of being a Brute.
"It looks good on you." Glory enthused. She leaned in closer, apparently assessing before she nodded
"This is Circaetus, officer. I can take her from here, right?"
The plainclothes officer nodded.
"Yes, Miss. Thank you."
Glory gave him a beaming smile.
"No, thank you, officer. Come on, Circ- it's a long way back to the top!"
Taylor obediently followed Glory, exchanging a friendly nod with the officers as she walked. The gala was being held far up the structure, far enough that they took an elevator there: Taylor listened to Glory chattering, made small talk with her friend, and mentally prepared herself. At the very least she had some small advantage: between them, throughout the several days between coming up with the idea and this gala, she and the Emperor had been able to build a very basic prototype of their focusing array. It was pathetic, really, a plate of ceramite littered with runes and using a small chunk of quartz as a focus, but it had allowed Taylor to draw upon the Warp far more than before. At her best estimate, she was three times as powerful as when she wasn't using it. Still nothing compared to her power when she faced Lung, or even her power when she had first bonded with the Emperor, but much better than nothing. The array was currently attached to the top right of her chest, near her shoulder, well hidden by the edge of her coat, although the gem itself was still visible. It simply appeared like it was the eye of one of the heads of the Acquila, which was appropriate. After all, only half the Imperial Eagle was blind. She didn't intend to bring any sort of attention to it, however. The less questions asked, the better. Not that she really expected that many questions here, in this presumably more relaxed setting. The various politicians of Brockton Bay did not strike her as the sort to have paid so much attention to the friendly neighbourhood vigilante to notice a slight change in her emblem.
"I'm not late, am I?" she asked as they reached the top of the building, the dull roar of conversation emitting from behind the closed door before them. Glory gave her a grin.
"A little bit."
"Fashionably?"
"If you'd like to think so. Ready to go into the lion's den?"
"Not even remotely." Taylor grumbled as Glory pushed open the doors and strolled in, but she followed, nonetheless. She moved with confidence, raking her gaze across the room with the bare minimum of head movement, trying to look unimpressed by the gathering. She hoped she succeeded, because the gathering was, admittedly, moderately impressive. Rich kids, teen actors, a Brockton Bay who's who mingling with their older counterparts, Heroes of the Protectorate and, of course, a small group of Wards. Far less in stature and number than some receptions that the Emperor had known, it was still something for her to see, the memories of the Emperor not quite as real as this. She saw Armsmaster and Dauntless upon the stage at the rear of the room, talking to a man she recognised as the mayor of the city.
'I suppose I had better go and say hello.'
"Make sure to compliment his policies. Politicians always love being complimented on the magnificence and intriguing aspects of their policies, I've found."
'…is that a euphemism?'
"Anything can be a euphemism if you try hard enough, Taylor, I thought we had discussed this. But as it happens, no. Not in this case."
'Oh good.'
Taylor made her way through the crowd, noting with amusement that the crowd actually moved for her rather than needing to be moved. The perks of rapidly becoming infamous, she reckoned as she made her way through. She was still looking for anyone she might recognise, but there was no-one other than a few heroes who she might know rather than vaguely remember. But there wasn't anyone- oh. Never mind. There was someone else there who she knew.
Emma was there. Her childhood friend, pretty in a blue dress that clashed impressively with red hair. Taylor wouldn't have thought that her family would be rich enough to be here, though: word was that tickets had passed two hundred dollars each and were still climbing. Then again, a high-flying divorce lawyer like Emma's father probably knew al sorts of dirty little secrets that would get him something so simple as a charity ball ticket. Taylor made a mental note to avoid Emma as best she could, absently wondering if Emma would be socialising with Sophia in this little shindig, especially as she could see Shadow Stalker lurking near the other Wards. Her body language spoke of a whole lot of frustration.
Petty though it was, Taylor took a bit of satisfaction from that. And then she was climbing the steps to the stage and she pushed all of that out of her mind. She stepped onto the stage with an easy tread, catching Dauntless' eye and giving him a lazy nod. Dauntless broke off his brief conversation with the Mayor, stepping past and inclining his head to her.
"Nice armour." He said. Taylor smiled behind her helmet.
"I feel like we've had this conversation before." She wryly noted. Dauntless shrugged.
"Quite possibly." He admitted, amused. He shook it off and gestured.
"Well, I suppose I had better make the introductions. Not that either of you really need it, but it's only polite."
Taylor shrugged and waited as Dauntless moved the few steps needed to close on the Mayor and spoke quietly to him. She glanced at Armsmaster for a moment, frowning behind her helmet. Maybe she should take a peek at what the senior Hero was thinking? She could sense a slight irritation from him, but it was hard to tell exactly what it came from without a closer look. Then again, she could guess. Armsmaster, for all that he could manage to look reasonable, for all that he was very front cover worthy with the gleaming blue armour and the dazzling smile, was not fond of being upstaged. And what else was she doing, being here when she was the one to bring down Bakuda and stage a live internet battle with Lung? No, he wouldn't be pleased at all. Best not to make an issue of it.
Although, should Armsmaster ever become an enemy, she would definitely keep that thought in mind. After all, it was always advantageous to know which buttons to press and which buttons to avoid in your opponents.
The Mayor turned around. Taylor used the advantage of her helmet to look him over, finding him unimpressive. He was an older man, fifty or sixty at a guess, his hair balding. He had a kind, homely face though, the very picture of an affable American boy who lived in a modest house and worked a modest job. No wonder he'd been elected for the past several years, though Taylor couldn't say that she thought he was a bad Mayor. It was just that, in a city where there were the largest Neo-Nazi gang in America- she thought there was a larger organisation in Germany, maybe, and made a mental note to go and check it out once her powers had made a proper return and she had some time- and a large Asian gang led by one of the Cape boogeymen were based, as well as Coil and whatever the Merchants had been, the Mayor was a little irrelevant. Still, there was no need to be rude.
"Mayor Christner. A pleasure to meet you." Taylor said warmly, shaking his offered hand. The Mayor gave her a cherubic smile in reply.
"No, no, it's my pleasure to meet the hero of the hour. Or perhaps not quite this hour, given how much time it's been, but the hero of the hour we are celebrating?"
"I like to think of myself as the hero of any hour, Mayor, but it's gratifying to know that someone shares my belief on occasion." She replied cheerfully, not bothering to hide her ego. Given that the Mayor laughed, she assumed it was the right attitude to take.
"I see that all the stories of your fire aren't exaggerated! I'm pleased to see it." He replied, genial and smiling. Taylor briefly considered taking a glimpse at his thoughts to see if he was being genuine but decided against it. Giddy as she was at being able to properly use her powers again, that was probably breaking some kind of moral code. Besides, she wanted to preserve the dampener just in case. And even beyond that- well, she liked to think that he was being genuine. It bolstered her ego.
"Does your ego really need bolstering?"
'No, but it's a pretty good feeling anyway.'
"Not that the other heroes in the city lack fire, of course they don't but, well-"
The Mayor leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice in conspiratorial manner,
"Sometimes I wish they weren't quite so formal, eh?"
"Ah, the classic. Sharing something in confidence to make the mark feel truly appreciated."
'Your cynicism is not wanted.'
"That's a lie and you know it."
Regardless of the Emperor's highly jaded political advice, Taylor more or less understood that it was better to play the game, better to act as though she thought that the Mayor was being sincere- which he could be, a small and optimistic part of her argued. Anyway, she should respond in kind, she reasoned.
"It can be intimidating." She agreed cheerfully.
"They dress to look approachable, but then they don't act like it."
The Mayor beamed.
"Whereas you dress intimidatingly but act approachably?" he asked, seemingly pleased with the juxtaposition. Taylor simply gave an expressive shrug, grinning as she saw Dauntless, behind the Mayor, move his head in a motion that clearly indicated that he was rolling his eyes. The Mayor leaned back and raised his voice a little, though he was still standing close enough to give the impression that she was the sole centre of his attention.
"No wonder he has been elected several times even as the city sinks into a dystopian quagmire." The Emperor groused. Taylor did her best to ignore him. He had been a strong proponent of going to this cursed event, he could at least be more supportive. A faint chuckle echoed in the recesses of her mind even as she thought that.
"Would you mind saying a few words?" the Mayor asked.
"Not many of course, I don't want to pressure you, but some small statement, perhaps some words of encouragement in support of the city would be greatly appreciated."
The Mayor was still smiling, but there was something brittle in it. For a brief, dark moment Taylor wondered how much damage she could do to the Mayor's campaign and career with a few words, before the flash of malice passed.
"Of course." She said. The Mayor smiled quickly and moved away, towards the front of the stage. Taylor suddenly realised that she was going to have to make a speech and turned to Dauntless, almost in a panic.
"I should not have agreed to that." She hissed. Dauntless made a noise of amusement. Taylor gritted her teeth and repressed the urge to swear.
"I'm not a politician. What do I say?"
"Try and be inoffensive and butter their ego. Usually works as good PR." Dauntless advised, still sounding like he was finding it far too funny for Taylor's tastes.
"Wow, thanks for that advice." Taylor growled. The Mayor had said something about the hero of the hour and had half-turned back to her. Taylor scowled under her helmet before forcing her features into a smile. It couldn't be seen, but it at least helped push her into a more suitable mindset.
"Attempt to be humble. I have found that very few things sate the ego of the rich like one truly powerful acting like they are not above them in every way." The Emperor advised. Taylor kept her smile locked in place.
'That doesn't seem anything like what you would do.'
"After a certain level of power is reached humility seems more like condescension. You are not yet at that level."
'Thank you for reminding me.' She deadpanned. The Emperor chuckled but offered no further advice. Taylor sighed and moved to stand next to the Mayor, consciously altering her stance to be looser. More inviting, approachable. And the speech- humble. Short, sweet, flattering. Make them feel good about themselves. Easy.
"I have to say," she began, looking over the crowd and carefully modulating her tone,
"That I didn't expect to have to make a speech. I think it's more frightening than having to face Lung and Bakuda."
Some small laughter. Good enough. Taylor let her smile drop, letting her voice become a little more serious, consciously looking down at the ground.
"I've been invited here, I know, because I was the one who fought Lung. The one who brought down Bakuda. The one who left Oni Lee broken and vulnerable to the PRT, the Protectorate. To some people, that makes me a hero."
Taylor raised her head.
"In all truth, I can't say that what I did was heroic. It wasn't a thought-out act. It wasn't something that I knew would be good for the city. It was something born of anger, and frustration. Anger, because my friend had been kidnapped. But just as much, it was anger at what Lung represented. What Oni Lee and Bakuda represented. To me, they weren't just villains, weren't just criminals: they were a symbol of the corruption seeping into this city. Lung had become arrogant, thinking that his power made him above the law. Above justice. And though I wanted to rescue my friend more, I wanted to knock him down a notch. To demonstrate that he wasn't untouchable."
Taylor paused to take a breath, gave a small, self-deprecating shrug.
"Perhaps I succeeded. Perhaps I did not. But it was a selfish thing to do. No matter how well it turned out, it was selfish and stupid. And that is why I believe that you- all of you here- are greater heroes than I am. I merely face the symptoms of the villainy that infects Brockton, infects the world. You…you, with your donations, and your generosity, fight against the causes Fighting, just as Mayor Christner has been for his terms, and just as I trust he will be so long as he serves in office. You reach out your hands and lift up those less advantaged. You give shelter to the homeless, food to the starving, hope to those without hope, while all I do is the work of a warrior, cutting away the worst of the rot. All of you- though this reception may have been envisaged as a celebration of victory, I say it is not. It is an opportunity, a celebration of the goodness of human hearts and the triumph of common good over parahuman evil. And for all that you do, I salute you."
The Psychic Dampener was working extremely well, Taylor idly mused as the crowd began to applaud. She had been layering her voice with mildly hypnotic suggestions of sincerity and truthfulness…not too many or far reaching, she thought with a faint shudder of regret at the thought of her still-blinkered father and a strange stinging in her throat, but enough that the crowd would believe that she really thought what she was saying was true. And in a way it might be. Money could solve many problems, and she was not rich. If these indolent modern aristocrats wanted to fund improvements, then who was she to avoid helping them indulge in goodness?
"I thought you said you weren't a politician?" Dauntless said from behind her, voice very low. Taylor smiled faintly.
"I'm not. But I am a passable liar." She replied just as softly, moving down from the stage to where the Mayor was excitedly gesturing to her. She endured the next few minutes, a whirl of bonhomie and good-natured introductions to people who would, perhaps, be useful in the future, but eventually she was able to extricate herself and wend her way to the table where a few recognisable faces sat. Clockblocker, Vista and Aegis all wore their costumes, but Glory was, of course, in civilian clothes, as was Gallant.
Technically, Taylor wasn't supposed to know that Glory was dating Gallant, since they were dating in civilian identities not cape. But, really. With Glory's natural exuberance it would be almost impossible to be her friend and not know.
Also, Taylor could read minds, which was a considerable help. Or she used to be able to- no. She still could, it was just harder. Could read minds.
Taylor inwardly shook herself and focused.
Despite all that, however, she had never actually seen Gallant unmasked. Seeing him now, she could definitely admit that Glory had excellent taste. All square jaw and all-American good looks, Glory and Gallant made a striking couple out of costume as much as they did in. Taylor wasn't ashamed to admit that she took a moment to commit the image of the two to memory.
She was glad that her mask hid her staring.
"Hey there you crazy kids." She said, sliding into a seat. Clockblocker gave her a lazy wave.
"Nice speech." He said. Taylor shrugged.
"I thought it was appropriate." She replied casually, turning to Glory.
"So, Glory. Aren't you going to introduce me to your paramour?"
Glory grinned knowingly at her, but introduced them, nonetheless. Taylor turned her smile upon Gallant, despite knowing that it couldn't be seen, and continued the polite fiction of being new to him.
"Dean Stansfield." She pronounced, rolling the word in her mouth for a moment before she simply leaned across and offered a hand.
"That name seems familiar from somewhere…your parents, I think." She commented as he shook her hand. She grinned to herself, having half expected that he might do the whole bowing over her hand thing that his Gallant persona might. Of course he wouldn't, she realised with amusement, just as she wouldn't make a stream of questionably amusing remarks out of costume.
"They're fairly well known." He admitted, a gentle smile gracing his features. She could just bet that he was a hit with the girls. Almost a pity that his armour had a full-face helmet, he could have his own line in charming smiles. Armsmaster-light. Only Gallant was actually socially capable.
To her right, Clockblocker made a whining noise.
"That's it? No threatening? No "I have a .45 and a shovel" speech?"
Taylor laughed at that, taken off guard.
"I'm fairly sure Dean has known Glory longer than I have, Tick-tock. Besides, look at how pretty he is. I'd feel bad about it."
Clockblocker was grinning, she was pretty sure.
"Tick-Tock, Tweety? That's a low one. And you should watch out, calling Glory's boyfriend pretty. She might take offence."
"Oh no," Taylor deadpanned, "Whatever would I do? I can't afford to offend Glory. Pretty sure half my fans are only mine so they can rabidly ship us."
Glory went a beautiful shade of pink. Vista choked on her drink. Gallant kept smiling, utterly unruffled. Taylor suspected that he could tell that she was joking. Clockblocker started to say something, interrupted himself by being unable to keep down a laugh, made the heroic effort to speak again.
"Man tweety, you've no idea."
Taylor spun in her seat, so she was directly facing him. Splitting her attention, she started to very subtly channel her power.
'You know, while we're here I think it might be worth doing some snooping. All these aristos have got to have some juicy secrets, right? Can you help me do some spying? I don't think I'm quite up to reading dozens of minds and holding a conversation like this at the same time.'
"Naturally I shall help. Not a bad idea at all, Taylor."
Taylor gave a brief mental acknowledgement before returning her attention to Clockblocker.
"C'mon then Tock, enlighten me."
Clockblocker coughed, though he still sounded amused.
"Wait- you really haven't noticed? But you take the pi- mick out of shippers all the time!"
Taylor rolled her eyes and held up a hand, beckoning. The Emperor muttered in the back of her mind and a couple of shady deals came to mind, bringing her grin back in increasingly wolfish form.
"I don't actually spend all my time on the internet. So c'mon, it can't be that bad."
"Uh- well, you know how Rune has picked up that whole rivalry thing with you, or had done? Well…"
Taylor thought that through for a moment before the sheer hilarity of it dawned on her. She supressed her amusement with an effort, instead tilting her head down and staring at Clockblocker, who was still clearly amused.
"Excuse me?"
Clockblocker hastily muffled a laugh.
"It, uh, yeah. The darker corners of PHO- the ones where they're a bit less selective about the whole 'no shipping Wards age' and the mods aren't quite as fast…second most popular."
Taylor very slowly shook her head before she started to laugh.
"You're kidding me, right? Glory, tell me he's kidding."
Glory, mostly recovered from her blush, grinned back and shook her head.
"Sorry, Circ. I'm not as up to date on all that as Clockblocker, but I've heard about it."
"I'm behind on the times." Taylor mock-mourned. She shook her head, though she was still amused.
"Tell me they aren't rabid enough to have named it."
"Not yet," Clockblocker contributed, sounding supremely smug, "But give it time."
Taylor couldn't help but laugh helplessly.
"I can't believe it. Rune. How did they ever come up with it?"
"Well, to be fair," Glory noted, "It's hard to not notice that Rune has a bit of a fixation on you."
Taylor snorted in amusement. She could see that- even if it had been a while since she'd tangled with the Empire telekinetic. Maybe she should try and find Rune soon, for old times sake.
"Well, you aren't wrong. But do people thing that would that really happen? She's a Neo-Nazi, that sort of thing is verboten right?"
"Hey, the heart wants what the heart wants."
Vista had gone bright red and Taylor took pity on her.
"Thank you, Tock, for ruining my night." She said, patting Clockblocker on the shoulder. He gave her the finger-guns gesture.
"Don't worry about it."
Taylor leaned back in her seat, letting the conversation shift to gossip- mainly about Wards and Capes in other cities, nothing that she needed to pay too much attention to. It was useful, allowing her to work more closely with the Emperor in ferreting out the secrets of the rich and powerful in Brockton Bay- and what secrets. Should Taylor ever need a favour at a point where blackmail couldn't be turned against her, she would have ample material. And then there was something even more interesting, plucked directly from the mind of Director Piggot.
'So Hookwolf is going to be moved to the Birdcage, hmm? What do you want to bed that the Empire will stage a breakout?'
"I try not to take fool bets. Besides that, I would say it's a certainty. And speaking of the Empire…"
Taylor almost leapt to her feet as the information from the Emperor filtered through her mind. Kaiser was here. The leader of the Empire Eighty-Eight was in this room, among heroes and businessmen and the mayor himself. Taylor stood, making a brief excuse about needing to socialise- conveniently heading off a few men who had been moving towards their table- and cast her gaze about, finding the man she was thinking on.
"Max Anders, CEO of the corporation Medhall. A man of healing, in a way. Ironic." The Emperor mused. Taylor moved through the crowd, making small talk, heading for the small exit that led out onto a brief balcony area.
'I have to admire his gall. Not a coward, to come here so brazenly.'
"None know his identity. It is safe as anything else." The Emperor reminded her. Taylor grunted.
'Still a ballsy move.' She responded, moving out onto the balcony and into the night. It was much cooler out here than in there, and she smiled faintly as the cold sank through her clothes and cooled her skin. Out here, she could think more clearly.
'Almost a pity that we can't reveal that we're psychic. Outing Kaiser would be quite the coup.'
"Or quite the mistake. I believe that the, ah, 'unwritten rules' would look upon such unfavourably."
'That's true enough I suppose.' Taylor begrudgingly admitted. She crossed to the balcony edge, glancing up at the sky. Obscured by the myriad lights of Brockton, the night sky still bore a smattering of faint pin-prick lights, just visible upon the opaque ebony of the night. Most of the night and stars were hidden, however, washed out by the orange smear of artificial light. For a moment Taylor felt a sense of sadness and longing, though it wasn't hers.
"One of the things I miss from my youth is the stars in the night sky. I always thought it a shame that the polluted skies over Terra blocked the night." The Emperor commented softly. Taylor, not knowing what to say to that, was about to try nonetheless when a soft scrape of footfalls made her turn.
Max Anders offered an affable smile as he approached, brilliant blue eyes crinkling with the expression, but Taylor wasn't fooled. He knew who she was- though she knew full well that he wasn't going to pull anything. No, he wanted to take her measure- but that blade cut both ways. She studied him in return. He was taller than she was, sharply handsome and trim. His smile was winning, magazine cover worthy. Taylor wondered if that was part of the reason that nobody suspected he was Kaiser, or whether it was simply the abundance of options that meant nobody had considered him. Either way, it didn't really matter.
"Circaetus." He said, offering a hand. She took it easily enough, weighing his tone and voice. An orator, she thought.
"You seem to have me at a disadvantage, Mr…"
"Anders. Max Anders. My apologies if I am intruding, I simply saw you come out here and wondered if I might have the chance for a few words. You will forgive me for saying, but you are in rather high demand inside and I am merely a businessman."
He was still smiling as he spoke, laughing a little at the end in false self-deprecation. Taylor could admit, he seemed like a charismatic and likeable man. If only he wasn't a power-hungry fascist, she mused.
She ignored the irony that 'power-hungry fascist' could be used to describe The Emperor if one was not intimately acquainted with his hopes, dreams and motivations.
"It is quite busy, yes." She admitted. Anders laughed, a pleasant laugh, not the smug or menacing laugh one might have expected of a villain. The Emperor scoffed in her mind.
"A villainous laugh? Are you feeling whimsical, Taylor?"
'Almost always.'
"Did you want to ask something of me, Mr Anders?" Taylor asked. Anders- Kaiser- looked at her, a sudden shrewdness in his eyes.
"I did, yes. I admit, I had intended to ask something inconsequential first, perhaps some question about your Tinkertech or your motives. But I feel that you are a woman who would appreciate forthrightness."
"I do, as it happens."
He nodded, moving to the balcony, though she noted that he didn't come within arm's reach of her.
"You have made quite the stir since you arrived, Circaetus, I will not lie. I wonder, however. You have made no secret of your disdain for all the criminal gangs in Brockton Bay, yet you seem to have a particular antipathy towards the Empire Eighty-Eight. Would it be indelicate of me to ask why?"
Taylor smiled. So the leader was curious as to the motives of his enemy? Well, she could indulge him.
"You know, if you had attempted some middling small talk, I might have misdirected you, Mr Anders. Maybe I would have told you that the Empire killed my parents. Perhaps I would have said that they attacked me once. Or perhaps some other lie. But I will do you the courtesy of being forthright, as you have with me: my issue is merely an ideological one."
"Ideological?" Kaiser questioned. Taylor saw it in his thoughts: he wasn't a believer. Just like Hookwolf, the ideology of the Empire was merely a convenient smokescreen for his own nature, his own desires. The thought amused her.
"In this world, Mr Anders, we are beset. I do not say we as any race, not as a white woman, a black woman, an Asian…I say it as the only race who matters. A member of the human race. Parahumans spring up constantly, every time the Endbringers attack men die, yet still some cannot let go of their prejudices. They wallow in the self-indulgence of race and colour, a stagnant and tired creed. It…offends me."
"And yet you do not seem to have such antipathy for the ABB, who recruit only Asians and are, arguably, as racist in their desire." Kaiser baited. Taylor could see his thoughts: that perhaps she was as racist as any of the Empire. That she thought only the white men should be held to a higher standard. The thought that he had taken that verbal trap amused her.
"Not at all. I repudiate the ABB and their racism every bit as much as the Empire. But when your house is threatened by an approaching flood, do you pay heed to the broken window? The Empire is a far larger organisation. Therefore, I choose to confront them first."
Taylor turned her back, speaking on.
"Of course, there are those who will believe that I chose poorly. That the Empire are the lesser evil. The Empire has become civilised, they will say. That compared to the bad, old days of Highfather and his neo-Nazi thugs the Empire is positively a force for good. They provide protection as they say they will. They defend, rather than attack, they are far more noble than the ABB.
"You do not agree?" Kaiser asked, his voice leavened with interest. Taylor contemplated the dangers of giving him the truth, but only for a moment.
"No. A more civilised gang is still a gang. A protective tyrant is still a tyrant. Good deeds do not cancel out the bad, and with their numbers and their potential for good the Empire is every bit as savage as the ABB. At least, that is what I believe."
Taylor turned.
"What do you believe, Mr Anders?"
Kaiser gazed at her for a moment, still smiling.
"I believe that your philosophy is most interesting, Circaetus, and that I am glad to have been able to speak to you on it. But alas, I may not remain and debate with you. Duty calls." He eventually replied. He tilted his head to her and returned to the gala, leaving Taylor alone to gaze into the night and wonder if she had said too much.
The day that the PRT planned to move Hookwolf dawned grey and foggy, leaving Taylor uncertain of whether or not it was a good thing. She intended to shadow the convoy, without any doubt: the Empire could well attack, and she would not allow her triumph to be diluted by the chance that Hookwolf would escape. If all went well she would never have to be seen. If not…well, she would call it coincidence.
'I just wish that I had completed my armour in time.' She complained to the Emperor, shooting a sour glance at the still not fully constructed armour.
"For that, you have only yourself to blame." The Emperor replied, his voice filled with unshakeable patience. Taylor grumbled but knew it was true. She might have been able to finish it in time, had she not been busy imitating Kid Win and being distracted by all the chances for improvement. The success of her Psychic Dampener had spurred her on, leading to her becoming engrossed in planning a more advanced version for her armour- a Psychic Enhancer, to not only aid her but empower her. And then a notice of a Tinker who had built arms into his armour had spurred a half-dream of Ferrus Manus, and a rush to build a servo harness for her armour, as well as a realisation that something built for such heavy combat would be well served with more potent weaponry, lightning claws or a real power fist or…
It had taken a significant effort on the part of the Emperor to curb her frantic planning and experimentation and reduce the alterations to only the Enhancer. But still, that would set her back significantly. Taylor frowned and cast the thought away, however, as she picked up her staff and tucked her laspistol, now with a fresh power cell installed, into its holster in her old, grey-black armour. She doubted she would need the protection of power armour, even in the unlikely event that the Empire discovered that Hookwolf was being moved now and attacked.
Or at least, that was what she told herself as she strode out into the foggy Brockton morning.
And there we go, one more Chapter. Rejoice, for I was not lying when I said I intended for Taylor to regain her powers. Eventually she won't need the Dampener, but for now...well. As to the mechanics, think of it like this: she drew far, far too heavily on the Warp when fighting Lung. This basically caused an allergic reaction to the Warp that makes it far more inimical to her than normal, though she's slowly getting over that. The Dampener insulates her, though it itself takes damage as she uses it, meaning she's still a little limited.
I am aware of the irony of Taylor not wanting to wear colours like any of the Space Marine Legions when she normally wears grey, a colour shared by several Legions, including the Luna Wolves and Word Bearers. But really, colours are hard. She's trying.
I had intended a long lecture on my opinion of The Emperor in 40k canon, but unfortunately I don't have time. Perhaps in the next chapter: for now, suffice it to say that I think Games Workshop is going down the path that makes the Emperor to be a just as planned, scheming, Greater Good type who is basically a villain whereas I feel that The Emperor was fundamentally out of his depth in dealing with a humanity that was suddenly at risk of exploding into daemons and had far too much faith in both humanity and the Primarchs. I think he made mistakes, plenty of them: he's only human after all. Though whether you think that or prefer him to be a Machiavellian chess master who knew some Primarchs would fall and knowingly manipulated them to achieve the best result is, of course, all up to you.
Rambling over: as always, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and reviews are always welcomed.