Trigger Warning
Taylor would never be able to say exactly how she ended up Triggering.
There wasn't any one thing, something major to push her over the edge.
Instead it was the same, low-level, bullying day after day after day after-
And then, documenting the days events, she looked at how many pages were already full, how much had already happened.
All the same.
Just as bad as the rest.
And no hope for anything changing.
And… it went black.
She awoke with the urge to build, to create, an urge that sent her into the basement to dig through the boxes stored down there for parts.
Despite her powers, Taylor felt somehow… despondent. As though nothing she could do would make any difference.
And then she dug out the old 'atomic energy lab' play set, and her power took notice.
When she found the Uranium, still present, her power felt excited.
Schematics flew through her mind, and Taylor found her hands already moving, picking through the discarded junk for parts.
In what felt like minutes she had her first creation built, a computer that could fit on her wrist, powered by a sample of the Uranium.
And around her were the disassembled parts of the other junk she had used to build it, reduced to the smallest of their parts.
Taylor found herself slipping the device on, almost without thinking about the act, and flicked the power on.
There was a hum as it started, only to break into a whine and series of beeps.
Not programmed yet.
She found herself nodding, and headed back upstairs to her old laptop.
There was an extendable cable on the back of the device, but when she drew it out, it was clear that it wasn't compatible.
It was like an old plug, big and round, while her laptop had usb ports and other, more esoteric, connections.
But Taylor was a Tinker now, and not to be put off by mechanical problems!
With just a few components, she had an adaptor built and fitted, plugging the computers together.
An unseen hand guided her to the unnamed directory waiting to be programmed, and her fingers flew across the keyboard, assembling the code faster than she would have believed, faster than she could even read it.
At last the code was complete, and she set it to compile.
Zero errors.
A grin flashed across her face as she unplugged.
"Let's try this again."
Taylor held her breath as she flicked the power on again.
It activated with a hum, a rush of text running up the screen, before it flashed to a display of a human body in green on black.
Each arm, plus the head, had small bars next to them, with a larger bar beneath, clear even with the occasional distortion across the display.
Likely some kind of health indicator, given the way the less than full bars corresponded pretty well with the bruises from the day.
A vague sense of disappointment welled up within her.
She hadn't been paying too much attention to what she was building, but a simple diagnostic aid?
She turned the main dial, next to the screen, and it flickered to a new display.
A set of radio stations.
She turned the dial back a bit.
A list of items, including her clothing, appeared on the screen, alongside a 20/250 at the bottom of the screen, some kind of carrying capacity.
There were small squares next to her clothes and glasses, and Taylor tried the dial behind the main one for the first time, a highlight on the screen moving down to 'glasses'.
She flicked the switch between the dials.
Her vision immediately blurred, a quick exploratory hand demonstrating that her glasses were no longer present.
Taylor quickly brought her hand back to the device, flicking the switch again, and her glasses reappeared.
This… this shouldn't be possible.
How did she build a wrist computer that could seemingly store physical items at the flick of a switch from junk she found in the basement?
She span the dials some more, trying to see what else it could do.
There was the status screen, the inventory, the radio and a 'data' screen, she discovered, although about the only thing on the 'data' screen was a note about getting used to her 'personal information processor'.
Well, it needed a name, so why not?
Personal information processor… PIP… it needed something more…
Pipwatch? Pipbracelet? Piplet?
Pipboy?
Yes, pipboy.
That would definitely work.
{}
Taylor was just about to consider what else she could try building when her dad called her down for dinner.
Which took her rather by surprise, given she hadn't noticed him get home.
A glance at the clock showed that she had been in the basement for hours, rather than the minutes she had assumed, and Taylor immediately made for the door.
Before stopping to turn off her pipboy, and drop it on her desk.
No need to let her dad know about this just yet.
Although, given the diagnostic function, it could be handy for him to get one…
No, dinner first, Tinker later.
Keeping an eye on the time this… time.
{}
Danny didn't notice anything.
Not that Taylor wanted him to, or did anything to give it away.
But it still stung.
They had both fallen to pieces after her mothers death, but Taylor hadn't had the luxury to recover in her own time.
Her betrayal at Emmas hands had forced her to pull herself back together, into a cracked whole, before she was ready.
But that didn't mean she was going to force her father to stop his grieving, if he still needed it.
She returned to the basement to resume her Tinkering.
First, gather the parts on tools onto the work surface, while accessing the pipboy schematic in her head.
Except it wasn't there.
Instead there was a sense of her power denying that the pipboy was something she could build, that she must have just found it somewhere.
The impression of innocent whistling was especially bizarre.
So, a second pipboy was out.
Well, it wasn't like she needed one.
Right, what would she need to go out as a hero?
She was a Tinker, so armour and weaponry were the immediate considerations.
Schematics for a set of powered armour unfolded in her head.
Unfortunately there was no way she had access to enough material for one.
So, weaponry.
… Was that a nuke she had the schematics for?
And a laser minigun?
Okay, those were a bit more lethal than she was interested in.
What else could she make…
A new schematic formed, almost reluctantly.
A small drone, with some kind of healing field.
Her powers seemed to be whining in the back of her head, telling her that it was incomplete, that it should be more than a regeneration field strapped to a rocket engine, but given the lack of parts Taylor ignored it, getting to work again.
{}
"Taylor, are you still down there," her father called, distracting Taylor from her work.
She hadn't been as zoned out as when making the pipboy, the struggle to just build the drone she had the parts for rather than starting a full robot too distracting, but, judging from her watch, she had still lost track of the time.
"Sorry, I decided to tidy up and lost track of the time," she called back up to him, hurriedly finishing up the reactor.
Given the use of Uranium, she didn't think it was a good idea to leave it half finished.
"You may not have school tomorrow, but there's still a limit to how long you can stay up."
"I'll finish tomorrow," Taylor responded, setting her tools down quietly. "I'm heading up now anyway."
She set word to action, meeting her father at the basement door.
He seemed relieved that she was coming up as she said, and led the way upstairs to their bedrooms.
As she lay there, trying to sleep, Taylor found herself thinking about her powers without the drive to Tinker for the first time.
She was going to be a hero, of course, there were enough Capes in the gangs making life harder for everyone already.
But there were multiple ways to be a hero.
She could join the Wards, look for a less official team, or just go independent.
Any other powers, she would definitely favour the independent option.
Go solo, without any risk of interpersonal issues?
No chance of another Emma?
Sign her up!
But…
Tinkers were different.
She had heard about how strongly gangs pursued Tinkers, but that wasn't her reason, the numbers were clearly exaggerated.
Otherwise the pair of Uber and Leet wouldn't exist.
No, the problem was the cost of materials.
A Tinker was only as good as their equipment, and everything they built had an associated cost.
She could let her morals slide somewhat, become a Rogue and charge for her services, but she would still need to buy up the materials from somewhere.
So, a team it was.
The only heroic groups she knew of in the Bay were the Wards and New Wave.
And everyone knew New Wave was a family team.
So, unless she was willing to start dating Eric, chances were she wouldn't be accepted into the group.
Oh, and that was the other thing.
New Wave didn't hide their identities.
So even if she did convince them to let her join, she would have to unmask and put her dad at risk.
No, too much associated risk to put in the effort unless she had no other option.
Which left the Wards.
A group of teenagers with powers.
A repeat of school with powers mixed in.
An extension of her school experiences with added fighting villains.
It was almost enough to throw the idea out completely.
But… could she put her father at risk?
The options warred in her mind until she finally fell asleep.
{}
Danny put in the effort to wake early.
Something just didn't fit, about Taylor tidying the basement.
It wasn't anything major enough to confront her with, but that didn't mean he was about to just let it go.
He was careful not to make enough sound to disturb her as he made his way into the basement.
The light seemed a lot dimmer, closer to burning out completely, than he remembered, a reminder of how long it was since he'd come down here. Not since he'd had to move some reminders of Annette here, where they wouldn't be so painful.
A glance at the workbench he'd left down there, and he knew he was right to be concerned.
There was something half-constructed on the bench.
He felt his heart stop at the site.
It… it looked like a gun.
There was no question that it was Tinkertech, and no doubt that Taylor knew it was there even if he tried to convince himself that she wasn't the one making it.
Why… why did Taylor have something like this down here? What was planning to do with it?
He was going to have to confront her after all.
A ringing from upstairs drew his attention, and Danny hurried to the phone.
There was a problem at the docks, he needed to come in.
Danny didn't hesitate, grabbing his coat and heading to work.
He trusted his daughter enough to give her the day before confronting her.
{}
Taylor hadn't even realised her dad was out until she had finished her heal-drone and was checking if the coast was clear to bring it out.
It was only as she poked her head out the door, seeing the car was gone, that it occurred to Taylor that she needed some way to bring her drone to the PRT without being seen.
It wasn't as though she could convince them to accept her as a Tinker without proof, after all, but it wasn't something she could carry in the open either.
For a moment she considered calling them, asking for a pickup to a recruitment meeting, but wasn't it possible to tap phones somehow?
A secure line wouldn't be at risk of one of the gangs listening in and intercepting her, but didn't they need to be secured at both ends?
So, she would be heading to the PRT by herself.
And she needed something to safely transport her drone on the bus.
…
Minutes later she was on the bus to the PRT building, carrying a cardboard box.
With the lid on, the box looked like some junk being taken to a secondhand shop, or a pawn shop, nothing too suspicious.
Not long now, and she would take her first proper steps towards being a hero…
{}
It hadn't been immediately clear to Danny what the problem was when he reached the docks.
And then the Empire arrived.
There weren't any Capes with them at least.
Not that you really needed that kind of backup when you had so many feet on the ground, all armed with guns. Not when all you were up against were underpaid workers.
"It's time the Empire consolidated their territory," the spokesman of the group called through the gates. "You can join us, leave or fight and die."
The cocking of guns served as the final punctuation for his ultimatum.
"Does Kaiser know you're here?"
It wasn't anything formal, but Danny had come to an arrangement with the gangs.
The docks stayed neutral, they didn't have to test how the Capes stood up to all the weaponry abandoned in various warehouses.
The man laughed.
"Do you really think Kaiser has to be involved in every little thing the Empire does? The Empire is larger than one man!"
"He didn't attack here for a reason," Danny cautioned, buying more time for the other workers to grab what guns they could.
"That's what you think. See, it occurred to us that the reason he didn't give the order is that you are beneath his notice. And that is why we're here now."
Oh great, a loose cannon.
"Times up," the Nazi decided, and nodded at a group of his associates. "Fire."
Danny and the other dockworkers didn't have time to respond before they brought out the big guns and fired.
Explosives flew overhead, smashing into the office building and, in a case of bad aim or dodgy maintenance, his car.
Even as the dockworkers started firing back, Danny fell to his knees.
Without the files in the office, the association was dead, and his income with it.
And his car, the only thing he could have put up as collateral, was gone as well.
Everything he could use to try and look after Taylor, gone.
Everything went black.
{}
Taylor only realised she didn't know how to broach the topic of joining the Wards when she reached the reception desk.
The lobby was hardly empty after all, and any of the visitors could be gang plants.
"What brings you to the PRT today," the bored looking trooper asked in a disinterested manner.
Taylor went with the first explanation she could think of.
"I, uh, found some Tinkertech I want Armsmaster to look at."
It was even sort of true.
From a certain point of view.
The trooper sighed, and reached for the box. "Let me just make sure it really is Tinkertech, not just another-"
He took one look at the drone, before putting the lid back on and picking up the phone.
"Front desk, someone just came in with a piece of Tinkertech. Please contact Armsmaster and send an escort down."
He put down the phone, and returned his attention to Taylor.
"If you'll take a seat, someone will be by shortly to escort you to Armsmasters lab."
Taylor nodded, too excited by the prospect of meeting Armsmaster to use words.
Today was going so well!
{}
Danny came to.
It took a moment to identify the situation.
One of the Empire goons was standing next to him, a spare pistol on his leg as he waved another in the air for emphasis.
A few more were flanking him, the rearguard who refused to just run.
And the dockworkers were in cover, unwilling to open fire when he was so close.
He focused on the gun.
With it, he could help fight them off, actually do something to make a difference.
He moved almost without thinking, grabbing the gun from the goons holster.
And they started to aim at him.
Something clicked in Dannys head, and the world all but froze. He took aim at the ringleader, the idiot responsible for everything, and had a sense of certainty about hitting him. Or at least a 95% chance.
A flick in his head, and he considered the second goon, then the third, and the fourth.
Each time he 'locked' them as a target, each a 95% hit chance.
And then released it.
As time started to return to normal he fired, once each, and the goons fell before they could react.
And Danny dropped the gun, already feeling revulsion at what he'd just done.
The Empire had finally killed the association, but that didn't mean he was right to shoot them.
His eyes fell on the gun, taking a closer look.
And fell into hysterical laughter.
It fired tranquilisers.
They weren't dead, he'd just knocked them out.
At least the laughter stopped before the sirens reached them.
{}
Taylor stood nervously before Armsmaster as he examined her drone.
"This is an interesting design," he noted, in what could have been a positive or negative manner. "Do you know who built it?"
Taylor wet her lips nervously.
It was now or never…
"I did," she admitted, and Armsmasters head shot up to look at her.
"You? A recent Trigger," he concluded. "My condolences. Triggers are… rough. Can I recommend you consider the Wards?"
Taylor stifled a laugh. "That is why I came in. I just… couldn't think of a way to say that without risking being overheard."
Armsmaster considered.
"You trusted that, as an active Protectorate member, I would be safe to discuss the matter with and that, as a Tinker, I would be the best to understand your situation?"
"Something like that," Taylor hedged.
She really hadn't thought the matter through that far.
"Interesting. In any case, as a PRT associated Cape it would be required for you to go through power testing. As you have brought an example of your Tinkertech, I believe we can make a headstart on the process. If I may, what is the purpose of this device?"
"A drone that provides a regeneration field," Taylor answered without hesitation. "It would be a full robot, with more functionality, but I couldn't get the parts safely. Especially for the power supply…"
Armsmaster nodded. "That is a common problem for independent Tinkers. May I ask what the power supply is exactly? I can only assume that batteries can't supply enough power, and I'm not aware of a reactor type small enough to fit."
"Nuclear," Taylor answered. "It seems to be the same power source as all my tech."
"Nuclear…"
Armsmasters gaze was fixed over her shoulder, until he shook himself and refocused on her.
"While I still officially recommend you join the Wards, I must unofficially suggest a different course of action."
"Why?"
"Among the supplies forbidden to Wards are all radiologicals. As such, if you joined the Wards you would be unable to build any of your designs. And as a Tinker, being unable to Tinker would cause you certain issues. As such, I cannot in good conscience ask you to join the Wards at this time, but I would request that you reconsider when old enough for the Protectorate."
There was a pause.
"I officially proffer an invitation for you to join the Protectorate when your age is no longer a concern."
He hesitated again, before returning her drone into the box she had used to bring it in, adding a card next to it.
"Should you have concerns and need another Tinkers perspective for advice, do not hesitate to contact me."
The inherent dismissal was clear, and Taylor soon found herself back on the bus heading home.
It seemed she was going to have to go independent after all…
{}
It wasn't long after Taylor got home that her dad arrived, dropped off by an unfamiliar car.
He had a dazed expression, but quickly shook it off after seeing her.
"What happened," she asked, barely recognising him compared to how he'd been for the last couple of years.
"Empire attacked the docks," he managed, face falling. "Associations gone, we couldn't hope to rebuild. Managed to get us new jobs but… it won't be the same."
He hesitated.
"Taylor, this morning… I looked in the basement."
"Ah, you saw it. My regen drone."
Her thoughts raced. How could she convince him this wasn't something to worry about?
"Drone? Wait, regen? As in regeneration? It heals people?"
Taylor nodded. "I was thinking that if I finish it properly, I could call it 'Curie'."
Her dad nodded slowly, working himself up to say something.
"Taylor, have you considered joining the Wards?"
She nodded.
"I'm a Tinker, so they seemed the best option. I went to see them earlier."
He visibly relaxed. "That's-"
"But they said it would be a bad idea."
"What? Why?"
"My tech needs materials I wouldn't be allowed as a Ward. So if I did join anyway, I'd be little better than an underage, untrained trooper."
He nodded sloy, processing what she said.
"Taylor, I… when the attack happened… I got powers too. The PRT… they offered me a place in the Protectorate, and… with the damage to the docks… I accepted, on the condition they hire on the other dockworkers where they can. If they hadn't..." He trailed off, before thinking of something.
"Taylor, with all the damage from the attack, we need to clear the docks, and all the warehouses. Do you think you would be able to make use of the materials there?"
Taylor felt as though every christmas across her entire lifetime came at once.