Winnowwill, Part 5/Conclusion

“Heidiiiiiii…” Came the wail from the distant room; Mannifred was, in some ways, sentimental, it seemed.

Winnow ‘honored’ that sentimentality by turning her Facade off, revealing her true face as she shoved the 3T in the belt she had and resumed running.

No Log Togs for this mission…but she still had Facade. And unlike the crude shadow and clone effects that had had obvious ‘projection lines’ that someone like Hudson could see, she’d had a little time after taking down Heidi and other guards and swapping their appearances to make a more thorough concealment. But she knew Hudson was too damn paranoid to not check for that, so she’d also doubled up on a distraction. Maybe Vesper needed a quiet sneaking entrance, but Immiserate sure didn’t when she’d set off her grenade pen, and it had arrived just in time, finding its own entrance, getting to the room, and then sacrificing itself to provide the needed extra distraction to keep Hudson off guard and looking the wrong way. Cole had nicely added to it by giving into her inner psychopath and shooting what she THOUGHT was her, Winnow, dead, something Winnow did feel a bit bad about. But it was what it was: she had the 3T, and she had to get out, NOW.

She hadn’t had time to look at any blueprints of the place, but she’d paid attention as she’d snuck in and through and she was FAIRLY sure she was running in-

-to two guards, each coming around a corner.

If Winnow was a pure human, what she did, once again, probably wouldn’t have worked.

But she was more than that, and so when she leapt and did a two-footed dropkick right into the face of one of the guards, he went flying backwards into the wall with a massive crash, Winnow hitting the ground and rolling over at rapid speed, slamming into the other guard’s legs before he could adjust his gun and knocking him down, Vesper pouncing on him like she was an octopus, grabbing his wrist with one hand and slamming her elbow into his face with her other arm, once, twice, three times, stealing his handgun like she’d done in her past mission before springing up and resuming running for it, taking a quick moment to check that the 3T was still on her. Okay, this way…then up some stairs…and provided she hadn’t somehow made a bad error…

The stairs had a man on top. Winnow juked in, then snapped back out as he fired his submachine gun down the spiral, Winnow hissing as ricocheting bullets barely missed her and caused slivers of stone to sting her face and body; the Octocamo really offered no protection in that regard. Her shots were more accurate, as she snapped back in and fired off four quick bullets, resuming her run upwards even as the man was driven backwards by the impacts and then began falling down the stairs immediately to his right.

Vesper hopped over him on the way up, using the hand rail as a brace, and put her shoulder to the door, sunlight exploding in her face as she exited from the stairway. Ah, the rain had cleared up, right fast it seemed.

She’d come out near the small power substation located next to the dam. No guards there, though she suspected they were probably close enough to beeline for her, fast. Okay…get past these generators, and she could hear the whipping noise. Good. The call had gone through; she’d sent it as soon as she’d fled the room.

Not Immiserate this time; that was still back on the floor of the broken up meeting. This was considerably larger, a Eurocopter AS350, also known as the ‘Little Bird’. Not so little, considering it had enough room for her and the two people already in it. It had swung to its side, trying to lower itself both down and towards Winnow as she ran for it, the gunner starting to lean out of the open side to offer his hand-

His jerking backwards was all Vesper needed to know, and she hit the deck before the blast of fire flew over her head.

“Going so soon? Before we’ve settled up?” The dam’s innards were a bit of a maze, and Cole was no tracker. But Winnow having stolen the man’s gun and shooting in the stairway had been exactly what she needed to zero in, and once Cole knew where to go, she was really damn fast. No matter her faults, the hunt was part of her paradigm.

Not exactly amazingly accurate though, the helicopter jerking back up and JUST avoiding the other fire blast she’d aimed at the rear rotor. Cole hissed her annoyance, before her eyes jerked back to Winnow, as she rose back up and resumed running. Smirking, Cole took another shot at her. The white flames alighting both of her swordblades were thick and cloying, a little too solid as they screamed toward Vesper in arcs.

Not quite there. But the fire exploding just behind Winnow sent her flying forward, Cole again smirking. She’d lit up again, like a doll coming to life, at the sight of Winnow being pitched forward…

No. Not just flying forward. A taken-control-of tumble, Winnow turning around in mid fall and aiming for Cole, firing bullets at her. Cole cackled; even if they hit, and they weren’t, unless that woman whipped out a grenade launcher all she was going to do was annoy her-

Winnow hit the ground proper, and emptied her gun, Cole taking the time to line up her next shot…

She never knew exactly what hit her.

But the plant had a few emergency generators that didn’t run on the hydroelectric aspects. Sometimes, you needed power NOW, and hence you had generators that ran on fuel.

Fuel which was stored in tanks.

Fuel tanks which Cole hadn’t seen that she’d put herself in front of as she shot at her targets. Fuel tanks which, with Vesper’s Stream empowered bullets, went off like a giant bomb, Cole yelling in shocked surprise as the fire and kinetic blast wave engulfed her from behind and sent her flying forward before she was planted on her face fifteen feet down.

“Wahhhh! Never a dull moment!” Roman Torchwick, ensconced in the helicopter that had arrived, was not surprised everything had gone tits up. Once again, he was mildly regretting taking this job. Apparently he was second choice.

–

“What do you mean you don’t know how to fly this thing?!?” Evolto yelled, having stupidly been the one to ‘assess’ one of Dawn’s hires.

“I mean, I don’t really know how to fly this thing, I do not know how it could be any clearer!” Gelato said.

“THEN HOW DID WE GET UP HERE?!?”

“I DON’T KNOW, I JUST STARTED PUSHING BUTTONS!”

—

One crash later, and Roman was called in, because he COULD fly a helicopter. Apparently Gelato had thought he could pick up the technique on the, well, fly. It was a trait that happened a lot with Stand users: get into a situation and improvise. Unfortunately for him and his attempt to make some money, Dawn had wanted someone who actually DID have experience flying a helicopter. One suspected that Gelato might be proscribed another poop cave mission for his stunt. Even if she didn’t, Dawn still needed a helicopter pilot.

Which was Roman. He’d done a grabbag of things back in the day, including piloting aerial craft. He had told himself that the money was worth it. Maybe he’d think that when things WEREN’T all going sideways, AGAIN.

“Aye, I’d imagine.” The other person in the helicopter was completely new to this scene. Somewhere in his head, Roman had some mild resentment that he seemed to be handling it better than he was. Then again, his Semblence wouldn’t help him here, and it was the new guy who had the weapons to shoot back.

Gundrar Ironfist. Yeah, that was a fitting name. He was a ‘dwarf’, though exactly what THAT meant, Roman didn’t know. He looked more like a darn space marine with his chosen armored getup, even though his main job was apparently some kind of miner. Or protection for miners. Apparently he was connected to the rough location the Kobbers were aiming to go to after having moved on from Whalestrand, Argo, where the mining was apparently real damn dangerous in places. Dawn had started putting down seeds there, as had her new agent, the also strange little toothy alien called Mr. Clever; assumingly, when she’d needed a ‘gunner’, she’d decided to hire local.

Despite being a ‘dwarf’, he didn’t seem to mind being airbound at the moment, though Roman was considering putting in a weight complaint, if just to make sure the point was raised that if Dawn was going to assign him to more jobs like this, she might strongly want to consider a larger helicopter. Or maybe he was just making excuses for his less than great flying/dodging. Well, at least figure out which was which.

Anyway, it had been Gundrar who had been trying to grab Winnow’s hand, though he’d had to switch his offered grip to holding onto the open door so as to not fall out. He mildly grumbled at this, saying something under his breath that might have been English or another language.

“This is too hot!” Winnow said, waving the machine off. “Fall back, we’ll set up a secondary pickup! Back off, before you get shot out of the air! GO!” Winnow knew by the time the helicopter tried to get back down to her, the minions would be converging on her, and the copter was a much bigger target than her.

“Take this first, girl.” Her usual coat fell down the ground near her, tossed by Gundrar. Perfect, her stolen gun was out of ammo again, and said coat had more of her gear, including her new favorite little gun. She picked it up in a run, throwing it over her shoulders and getting her arms through the sleeves as the helicopter went into a steep ascent, Winnow hearing some distant gunfire as it was, as she predicted, being shot at. In one smooth move, she moved the 3T from her belt to an inner coat pocket, and then twisted her wrist, getting the grapnel armed and firing it, aiming for the side and top of the dam, essentially both going back the way she came and taking the high ground, so she couldn’t be closed in on.

As the helicopter also made its exit, Cole picked herself up, wiping soot from her face, before she activated her own communication device. She barely noticed her habit burning.

“Ma’am, she managed to catch me in an explosion. Yes, fully intact. Systems are a bit screwed up. You want me to immediately resume pursuit?” Ie, not stand there and take a minute to make sure all her bodily functions were all lined up and working perfectly again. Hudson’s response was a firm “NO, IMMEDIATELY RESUME.” “Yes ma’am.” Well, she’d follow orders. Yeah she’d be slower and less effective for the lack of full reset, but that was what she’d been told to do. She idly patted out the flames and got moving.

---

Winnow reached the top of the dam and threw herself behind cover as a man on a motorcycle with a machine gun (but no cool theme) drove down the length of the dam towards her, his weapon spitting fire. Ironic: her cover had been another stairwell entrance. Winnow knew as soon as the man drove past he’d shoot into where she was. She could trade fire, but that was a big risk…wait…

The man did fire as he drove past, attempting an immediate sight and loose, but to his confusion, there was no one there…wait there was a faint black running smear…

Winnow’s gun spat fire in turn. She’d pulled enough power out of the Octocamo to get one last half-done merging with the wall; her head and jacket weren’t part of it, but between the distortion and her going into a kneel it threw off the man’s aim enough so that she could shoot back better for two seconds, which was all she needed to shoot him off his motorcycle. It crashed down to the ground, Winnow deactivating the Camo, checking her six, and then emerging, firing and shooting down more armed people the way the first one had come, one more on another motorcycle, the rest on foot, before she turned to sprint towards the first motorcycle she’d relieved its occupant of, popping her empty clip out and slapping a new one in as she ran. She pulled up the bike, letting her brain shift in the acquired knowledge. Simple enough. She checked to make sure there weren’t any bullet holes in the engine or the wheels, and then hit the gas and took off, her open coat streaming behind her as she drove off. The dam’s top connected to a rough road that would take her onto land and then off into Tennessee proper (more technically, immediately northwest into an area marked on the maps as “Beech Springs”), where she could then set up a secondary pickup…

Bullets striking the road as she actually left the dam top proper made it clear that they weren’t going to just let her drive off. Winnow fired a few wild shots in return and then gunned the engine, trying to once again outrun the problem that insisted on hounding her.

—

Mannifred’s men were all exiting the dam and piling into their own cars and vans to give chase when Cole walked up to the gathered driving off vehicles. Normally, she’d have just used her own two feet, but she had orders and circumstances. Having spotted another motorcyclist coming along, Cole flash stepped over (disliking the disorientation that this caused due to her systems still a bit wonky), grabbing the woman by the neck of her jacket and casually tossing her off, the motorcycle coming to an abrupt stop. Cole vaguely thought ‘Oh, I threw her off the dam’ and then forgot the woman entirely after dismissing it, getting on the motorcycle. Clutch, brake, engine, she was certain she could drive it, and she did, following after Mannifred’s goons and bringing up the rear of the chase.

—

But that was back at the end of the line. The car at the front had managed to catch up to Winnow alarmingly fast. It had a good engine in it, it seemed.

They were not, however, the only one.

“Get us closer, lad.” Gundrar opened a crate and removed the very large machine gun; Roman swore it should have been bolted on the helicopter instead of being in the man/dwarf’s hands. Gundrar had decided mid-retreat that just flying away was no good: maybe they couldn’t pick up Winnow/Vesper, but they could cover her. Roman had not argued, as the dwarf was armed and he wasn’t. “Ack, bit small for my taste…” The machine gun was small for him?! What the heck did he want, a literal anti-tank rifle? Roman decided he didn’t want to know and activated the sound bafflers in his headset. This was gonna be LOUD.

The roar of the firearm exploded through the helicopter a second later, Gundrar firing at Winnow’s pursuers. To their credit, the two people already leaning out the window to shoot at Winnow immediately altered their firing aim and shot at the helicopter instead, Roman jerking his head down as a few stray bullets hit non-critical parts of the helicopter. Gundrar strafed the car in turn, but he neither disabled the vehicle or hit the shooters.

Instead, one hit him, the impact making him fall back into the helicopter with a grunt. The shot had been wholly absorbed by his body armor, but his pride still hurt.

“Okay, dander is up now.” Gundrar said.

Winnow turned around, aiming and firing a few shots at the pursuing car, specifically at the driver. She didn’t know if she hit, but the way the vehicle swerved around seemed like a good sign…which matched the bad sign of the OTHER vehicle, a van this time, turning towards her further up the road. Damn. This machine, ie her stolen motorcycle, must have had some kind of tracking device on it; how else could they have so effectively intercepted her?

Actually, she was wrong in that regard. It was actually because the people in the just-arrived van weren't Mannifred’s people; it was Hudson’s, having been called in and being the closest group. Fortunately, it was just her group’s equivalent of mooks, instead of any of the high class names by Vici. Didn’t matter much to Winnow, considering she was now stuck between two automobiles, one chasing her and one driving at her.

Before Gundrar, having opened a smaller crate on the helicopter’s inner wall, removed the grenade launcher there, inserted one of the large explosive rounds, aimed, and fired.

The van heading towards Vesper lifted up on two wheels as the explosive hit its flank, but somehow it crashed back down, veering, but still driving.

“Right then.” Gundrar said, and just loaded a second explosive and fired again.

Gas tank. Bullseye. The van exploded, pieces of shrapnel flying past Winnow, the vehicle pitched upward into the air and flying off the road in a fiery tumble, crashing down as Vesper drove through the flaming patch where it had just been. Winnow again glanced behind her; Roman was now adjusting the pursuit/cover so Gundrar couldn’t fire a shot at the car behind her, and said car was still on her rear…

…and there was a second van, also arriving. THIS one was Mannifred’s people, coming the other way on the T-section that the just-exploded van had driven and turned towards Winnow on; it was coming from Vesper’s right instead of her left.

Instinct took over. Time slowed down for the woman. As had been noted, you COULD train yourself to get a reaction like that without forcibly altering your brain on Weav.

The van at her front. Assess position, distance, and speed. It wouldn’t make it in time to turn and block her, but if she turned left on the T to go away from it it might get a good shot at her. Same if she turned towards it and tried to go past it. Going offroad was a bad option. So was slamming on the brakes; it would make the car behind her catch up.

But…

What if SHE slowed down too, but not via pure braking? Her mind ripped through all the new information, mixing certain aspects of physics with granted understanding of driving…

Yeah.

The van in front of her had apparently hoped to either ram her in an intercept or shoot her otherwise.

All that went out the window when Winnow yanked her weight forward, balanced perfectly as she gently squeezed the brake, the motorcycle sliding on its front wheel, losing some speed but still going smoothly forward, the van’s attempted ramming making it overshoot and drive PAST Winnow as she drove behind them, slamming her bike ‘s rear wheel back down as she aimed, even as she twisted in her own turn.

Three shots blew out the rear right tire, making the van twist. Winnow sighted the gas tank and fired the rest of the clip, adding in a touch of Stream extra kick.

The kick blew the van end over end, not quite the same explosive destruction caused by Gundrar’s grenade launcher, but Winnow wasn’t going to split hairs. Especially since the closer range of the explosion made her bike wobble, forcing her to slow down a bit to regain control as she drove past where the van had just been…

She was getting back up to speed when the car rammed into the back of her bike, nearly making her lose control again. The one still in pursuit, which had caught up despite her efforts. Winnow almost hit the gas again, and then realized if she darted ahead, she’d be an easier target.

So, seeing the car closing in again, she juked to the side, putting herself next to the driver’s side door, as she fired her gun.

Which clicked empty. She’d forgotten she’d used all the shots blowing up the second van; even she couldn’t keep track of everything.

And for further misfortune, Roman and Gundrar had returned to resume their covering fire…except now since Winnow was driving ALONGSIDE the car, Gundrar couldn’t aim without potentially hitting their ally. Mumbling, Gundrar put down the grenade launcher and hoisted up the machine gun, then concluded that was also too imprecise and looked for his handgun-

The shots fired from the car, unfortunately, were more accurate this time, smoke erupting as they tore up the area around the rear rotor, alarms going off within the machine, even as it lurched and Gundrar found himself grabbing on to prevent himself from falling out again.

“HIT! BAD HIT! Sorry man, we have to back off or WE’LL CRASH!” Roman yelled.

An annoyed grunt was a response, Roman turning to look at Winnow as she veered to dodge an attempted side slam. She was in trouble: the gunners were clearly ‘switching sides’ to aim better at the woman, and she didn’t have her gun, it seemed…

The car veered in again, trying one last sideways ram as they reached the end of the road.

Winnow couldn’t reload. Not while driving the bike. She was not the Terminator, and she didn’t have a shotgun anyway.

But, grab at her coat, pull out a small glue capsule, and throw it into the car’s closest wheel?

THAT, she could do.

The car literally stopped dead, the incredibly strong adhesive immediately seizing on both the road and wheels and ripping the entire front axel off the car as it flipped over and smashed down onto several other parked cars, the sound of crunching metal and shattering safety glass echoing in Winnow’s wake as she drove on.

“Woooooo!” Roman said, taking in the sight. Gundrar just gave a brief thumbs up.

The delight faded as the THIRD SUV van drove in from the side road and finally began proper pursuit of their target. Third van AND fifth vehicle, another car was following that third van…

Then it was getting blown onto its side as Gundrar got his grenade launcher back in his hands and managed one last cover shot, Even he was mildly surprised that at the distance and angle, he’d managed it. But that was still just one problem out of two, Vesper being chased by the last(?) van, one lone gunman aiming out of the passenger side’s window and firing, the driver adding to it with handgun fire out of his own window. She couldn’t fall back past the van, she’d be a sitting duck. Same if she sped ahead. She couldn’t reload, her hands were not THAT talented to do it while driving a motorcycle while under fire.

…but she still had glue containers. Two of them.

But if she tossed them on the road, they might drive around them. She…

Saw something.

Two seconds later, she turned and threw one of the containers. Not at the road. At the van. T.A.N.G.L.E taught all sorts of aiming, and that included pitching, the glue container hitting…the vans windshield, splattering all over.

“Gah, the hell-!” The driver had to stop shooting, sticking his head out the window so he could see better. Winnow tossed the other glue bomb after her. It hit…the windshield again, the whole front of the car covered in glue.

“She missed!” His passenger said. The driver instinctively tried to turn on the windshield wipers as he pulled himself back in, not knowing she was out of ammo, Winnow vanishing from his sight as he watched the wipers get immediately stuck. Growling, he stuck his head out the window again, again trying to aim.

“AHHHHHH! STOP! STOPPPP!” His passenger suddenly screamed. The driver only had time to get back inside and look in his direction as he drove through the intersection, noting that Winnow had done a hard left turn…

…the glue had destroyed his peripheral vision. But, back in the car, he could now see, through the passenger side, the 18 wheeler truck he’d been goaded into blind-driving directly in front of.

The screaming howl of both men was lost in the screaming howl as 20 tons of metal rammed hard into two tons, and the smaller mass lost, the van ripped in twain, the truck roaring its own horn as it swerved around from the accident, thankfully hitting its brakes before it also lost control, Winnow driving on and leaving the makeshift demolition derby behind her.

“I hope they’re insured!” Roman said; he was tacking too far away for Gundrar to help, but he was still close enough to see what had occurred. “Okay Ironfist, I think I can get this back under control, but I’m going to have to do a long, large loop to do it. Vesper’s on her own; if anyone else shows up, she’ll have to handle it.”

Gundrar didn’t reply, and Roman put all his attention into flying his mildly crippled craft. Huh, he was actually not going to crash. Maybe he was better at this than even he expected.

So was Winnow, as she finally used the breathing room to slow down a bit and reload her Walter PPK, finally. All right. Maybe it was fully set that she’d die another day…

They said that when you were riding a motorcycle, you should wear a helmet.

The irony here was that if Vesper HAD been wearing a helmet, it would have provided just that bit of extra mass so that the bullet would have just clipped ‘her head’ rather than miss by a centimeter, the super close passage bursting blood vessels in her ear.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” Cole. She’d taken a completely different route. A shortcut, more or less. How she knew the way, only Cole knew based on instinct. But she’d gotten ahead of Winnow, turned back, and was now driving down the road in front of her, towards her. Damn it, jousting/chicken again.

The handgun Cole was wielding? That had been in a holster in the bike’s handlebars. Cole wasn’t going to turn a weapon down no matter how inelegant it was compared to a blade, as she fired another shot at Winnow, and another, Winnow trying to lean away and realizing it wasn’t going to work.

So she took the next step. Literally, jumping off her motorcycle and, still holding onto the handlebars, crouching and using it as bare bones makeshift cover, the bike dragging her along. Cole could only goggle at the sight, though she kept firing, shooting up the front of the bike, and having the gun run out just before they passed each other, which kept an annoyed Cole from potentially shooting her in the side. Then they were past each other, Cole annoyingly slamming her foot down even as she yanked on her brakes, stopping her motorcycle and tearing up the road with her foot to do a tight spin, Winnow leaping back onto her seat and driving on.

Cole took a moment to draw one of her swords before she resumed the chase. This time, she would be sure.

“Faster, faster! I’m on your heels!” Cole said, and fired a blast of flame from the edge of the blade, arcing it close, trying to catch the rear of the bike. Not close enough, the blast exploding on the pavement, Cole driving past the smouldering hole she left as she took another shot. Missed again, but she was getting the range. The flames stuck behind her, igniting lines in the stone.

Winnow crouched low on her bike: she could tell herself she was being zeroed in on.

…so she’d have to aim better. Winnow drew out her Walter PPK. Turn around? No, it would cause extra wind resistance from her stance and make her less aerodynamic. Blind fire? Near pointless.

…but her rear view mirror had escaped destruction. Winnow looked at it, gave the briefest of glances back, and then looked again.

Then she aimed backwards, looking at the mirror, and fired.

The bullet hit the road, but it was close. Cole, this time, actually stopped in mid flame blast, unable to believe what this damn woman was doing without tech, based on what Hudson had said. Oh, she did have tech, but Cole was unaware of the fine details. The incredulity whet her bloodlust. She just thought this was a normal woman; maybe she had tools and gear and training, but she was just a standard human, a frail, fallible human, the thing Cole and others in Benedicine’s orbit had done their best to move past, and here she was firing at her using her damn motorcycle mirror to SIGHT-!

Not fire at.

Hit, Winnow firing five more times. Two bullets missed.

Three hit the front wheel of Cole’s bike.

“Oh, not good-” She started to herself.

The wheel broke and the bike immediately went into a complete forward crash, dumping Cole off the front, the bike going into a shattering tumble as Cole looked to do the same.

…except this time, Cole had something of an idea of what COULD happen. Even if she couldn’t believe it.

And so, THIS time, Cole didn’t faceplant. Instead, she expertly caught herself and landed on her hands, doing a speedy rolling flip and landing on her feet in turn.

“Full of tricks, are we? You aren’t the only one.” Cole said, and took off after Winnow.

Winnow barely had time for her eyes to bug before Cole was right alongside her, easily keeping pace with the motorcycle. Craned forward, she was racing along at a speed no unaltered human could’ve matched.

“Hoping to leave me behind? Not going to happen!”

Winnow aimed her Walter PPK, only for Cole to flashstep to the side and slightly forward, dodging the shots.

“Too slow!” Cole smirked, and grabbed for Winnow’s gun. In the end, Winnow had to let it go: if she tried to fight the woman she’d get yanked off the motorcycle, and at this speed she would handle the landing much worse than Cole had. Cole looked at her new ‘toy’, then snapped it in half and flash stepped forward, showing that she’d been holding back her speed.

Winnow hit the brakes, stopping, as Cole came to a stop a hundred feet down the road and turned around, waving a finger.

“The game is over, girl.” It was pretty clear what she meant. If Winnow tried to flee on the motorcycle, Cole would easily run her down. If her helicopter returned, Cole would blast it out of the sky. And if she fought, well…Cole might just literally bring her head back to Hudson, instead of figuratively. Vesper could tell just tossing the 3T away wouldn’t work either. Cole wanted HER as a trophy, not what she’d stolen.

The two stared at each other across the road, which had emptied of cars. Probably very good it had: anything that interrupted this risked getting a Cole fire blast.

Vesper ran her tongue over her upper teeth.

…yeah.

“Do you expect me to talk?”

“If you’d like, feel free. I’m more interested in hearing you scream!”

Winnow cocked her head, staring still. A few seconds ticked by.

Then braced herself on the bike and hit the engine, resuming her drive and aiming directly at Cole.

“Oh, thank you.” Cole said. She was going for the go down swinging route. That meant that Cole could take her time and no one would complain. Oh, what a mess she’d make. Tensing, she hefted her swords and readied herself to spill blood.

Winnow hunched low, the distance between the two rapidly shrinking.

Cole raised both hands, fire licking at her swords…

Back at the dam, Hudson finally managed to get outside, but her call to Cole was not answered, the warning just meeting a buzzing noise of non-connection. She’d seen it happen, and gotten outside darn fast (wheeled legs helped there)…not that it did her any good.

Cole had bashed up Immiserate pretty darn good.

But it hadn’t been destroyed. Just knocked around. It had ‘played dead’, Winnow having forgotten it until just now, in the standoff. For a moment, Cole’s eyebrow arched as she heard the sound of its rapid approach. Wait, she knew that noise…

Immiserate was more than just a ‘drone-board’. It was somewhat inconvenient for Vesper Maser/Rapanga to be carrying around the blade she used to blinkdraw. That was what Immiserate’s other main function was. Inspired by Christopher’s Great Flamel setup, one of the two main tricks of the new arrangement was transport.

The other was storage. Of the sword, which was what actually bore the name Immiserate, as the drone-board sliced down next to Vesper and she snapped her hand up.

Cole screamed in anticipation.

Her fire went wide as Winnow closed the distance and drew her blade in mid-drive from the board/sheath, hitting the trigger to add the micro-explosion to make the sword emerge even faster, the woman doing an expert slash that took Cole, who despite it all STILL managed to dodge…which meant the sword caught her at the elbow of her left arm and just above the elbow on the right, slicing both limbs off as the slash carved a groove on the road on either side of Cole, before the wind-force of such a fast strike blew her off her feet and sent her tumbling off the road and into the grasses beyond.

Nearly perfect…save for the fact that Winnow lost control of the motorcycle.

Well, you couldn’t have everything, as the vehicle rapid-wobbled and Winnow began to fall…before she managed to snag the ‘Immiserate board’ with her non-sword wielding hand, briefly balancing herself and getting a little control before the motorcycle’s front wheel twisted too hard and Winnow lost her ride entirely, holding onto Immiserate the board for another second before she lost her grip, the woman just managing to let go of her sword and wrap her coat around herself before she hit the road in a tumble, several immensely painful impacts slamming into her as she bounced a few times, before she managed enough control to get on her back and have her momentum drag her the rest of the way, her Intricacies-laced coat taking the brunt of the punishment.

For several seconds, she just lay there. In pain.

Part of her didn’t want to move. She’d hit her wall. She couldn’t do any more. All she knew was pain.

…and if she didn’t move, she knew, pain would be her world.

And that world was not enough.

So she rolled over. She found her legs hadn’t broken anything vital. She got up. Pain was temporary. Pride endured.

Immiserate-the-board was floating nearby. Vesper rolled her neck and shoulders, and then pressed on the ‘trigger tooth’ again in her mouth, the board going over to the blade and retrieving it, returning it to Vesper as she removed half of the ‘board’, equipping the sheath onto her side proper and sliding her sword back in, as she looked at where Cole was.

…no movement there. It wouldn’t last, she could tell, but at least for the immediate now, she was stunned and not a threat.

…and a familiar sound. The sound of a helicopter, coming back in. Winnow looked up, then back at Cole’s form, and then back at her ride, gesturing for them to just drop a rope ladder.

They did. Apparently, they’d remembered that they had one.

—

Hudson didn’t delay herself by letting her driver let her out as her SUV came to a stop this time; she COULD manage to exit these things herself, especially if she was in a hurry. Her cold eyes looked up at the sight of the helicopter as it was starting to fly away. She did a quick assessment: out of her range. She had some potential for offense, but she had always felt she had people for that. And unfortunately, none were around that were viable.

Winnow looked back, holding onto the ladder with one hand. She considered fishing out the 3T to show that she had it and wave it at Hudson, but decided in a second that was childish. This was over. Adults moved on. Despite the distance, the two seemed to manage a held gaze.

Neither said anything, and after a few more seconds, even as her form and the aerial vehicle she was on further shrank into the distance, Winnow turned and finished climbing the ladder to get back in.

Hudson watched her go in silence for the same reason; There was no point in screaming or threats she couldn’t carry out unless she could suddenly fly. While she’d marked Winnow’s face and person, and intended to dig into and find out who exactly had put her and all this into motion it was as over as could be, she had to swallow that it had come up as her loss.

“Well, guess that’s that.” She said sullenly, as Cole shifted and then sat up on her forearms soundlessly. Dribbles of blood ran from where they’d been severed, along with a few sparks. Cole looked down at them and then toward the helicopter shrinking in the distance, tight lipped before Hudson made her way over to her.

“She got you, huh?” Hudson asked, Cole going back to her wounds before rising up to her feet and considering the matter. “...I feel something.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I feel unfulfilled. Like an empty vessel.” She said in hollow tones, turning it over in her mind like she was chewing something tough. Outside of aggression or loyalty, it was a new sort of taste she didn’t care for. “I don’t like this being unfinished.”

“You and me both, but it’s as finished as it’s going to get. Come on, she can’t be the first one that’s ever escaped you.” Hudson sighed, taking a look around and ending with the pair of hands on the floor still clenched around the hilts of Cole’s swords. From the distance between them and her, they’d just about been blown off her arms. “I thought if anyone would end up taking her head it’d be you.”

“...It’s been a very long time since I’ve failed in pursuit. Even longer since the quarry bit back hard enough to matter.” Cole confessed, before bowing her head. “Will Benedictine be disappointed in me?”

Hudson glanced at her and considered pressing the matter of the reckoning she’d threatened her with, but shrugged it off after a few seconds. There was no point kicking her when she was down, even if this had been a wash Cole had always delivered in the past. One failure didn’t need to offset countless successes… The same applied to her no matter how much money they’d have made off T3. It was more her failure than anyone, if blame was going to go around.

“No, she won’t. You did the best you could have. I’ll put in a good word either way. If the world ran on would’ve, should’ve, and could’ves, no one would ever make any mistakes and things would be perfect. But it doesn’t. Let’s pack it in and get you to someone who can put those hands back on, huh?” She sighed again, Cole slowly nodding. In her own way she was marking the occasion. She likewise wouldn’t forget Winnow any time soon.

—

-The Pearl-

Dawn tended towards very basic facial expressions; even now, she tended to only show emotion if she was having an extreme emotional reaction. Still, the contented look on her face, however base it was, was still in its own way, a reward, as Vesper handed the 3T over to her.

“Excellent work, Agent Winnow. A grand debut, and hopefully a herald for all your future work, should you choose to accept it.”

“...maybe if the next one isn’t so damn…petty.” Vesper said. “All that, for money.”

“It’s said to be the root of all evil for a reason. But it’s not the core of us. If you want proof, look no further than yourself. You had no skin in this game, and you devoted yourself to it, above and beyond the call of duty. The sorts of people you’ve decided to try and follow, they would say you did them proud. Lives will be saved by this. One day.” Dawn placed the container into a more secure secondary container.

“Not now?”

“This is still a product that needs a lot of work and testing. But now there’s a chance for it to be a saving grace to many people. Not just the ones with money. Mainly because since I have it, I can copy it. And once I do, no forced artificial scarcity will apply.”

“...so I took all that, for a chance.”

“...yes. The better question is, do you think you regret it?”

“..........I don’t know.”

“Good answer. Take a break, Vesper. A good, deep one. Compare this form of risk and reward. And maybe then, the full answer will be clear.”

“You’re not going to call me in again if you somehow find something that fits what I can provide, are you?”

“It wouldn’t be much of a break if I did.”

—

-Some Earth city, ie not onWeav-

When it was said and done, when the wounds were treated and healing, when the muscles had stopped aching and the nerves had cooled down…

…yes. She thought she COULD see why her dad had wanted this. He’d never quite gotten it, not in the pure sense. She had a feeling that he’d find it a little strange that none of his sons ever tried it, but his daughter had been the one to catch its hook. After all, wasn’t she more the type to be the secondary player in such works?

Maybe.

Sometimes, though, things got shaken up. Stir the pot. Sometimes, the new elements would bond.

“Hey Vesperrrrrr!”

One might think the speaker was Patricia Ravensky. Not this time, though. It was Sunny; she was always changing her look, and sometimes, you went for the most basic changes, in this case, just an alternate hairstyle via a wig. Patricia was more social than her older sister, but not quite as comfortable as Sunny was in her socializing. Perhaps they could work on that. But for now, it was just these two girls on a night out. Not by themselves though, it seemed.

“I found some interesting additions to our plans! You ready?”

“Damn straight. Let’s get lost.”

“Nice to meet you. My name’s Rapanga. Vesper Rapanga.”

Whatever It Takes, Part 9: 'Cause I Love How It Feels When I Break The Chains

-Just another average day-

Well, not really. Celeste was ill.

Well, mildly ill. She had a nasty headache, one that was keeping her ‘bedridden’. She seemingly had a system; she would sleep for an hour, and then she would play checkers (or, if no one was available at the time, solo card games in the vein of solitaire) for another hour, then sleep another hour, then have some soup and read for another hour, then sleep, checkers, sleep, and so on. She said it worked, and did her best to assuage the girls that she’d be fine, she’d had it before and this had worked.

But, it had hit her when no one else was at the house. Christopher had left for a tri-monthly supply run, needing to get even more supplies as Celeste and Patty looked to be heading back to the lands of the Kobbers soon, and Patty was off with Sunny training with her over the latest ‘gift’ Sunny had been given (some piece of tech, was all the dragon girls knew). Left to their own devices otherwise, Vimmy and Venny had the run of the property and no assignments besides checking in on their mother.

Keeping themselves intermittently occupied wasn’t as hard as it could have been, the two having plenty of things to get into and distract themselves with. Either together or apart, they’d managed to fiddle with their own devices or just wile away the hours, Vimmy mostly focussing on fine tuning her drones a little more and Venny reading or sketching whatever she happened to decide to draw. Drifting in between when Celeste was awake or asleep, they’d stood watch a little uneasily. Her system did seem to be working for her, but they didn’t like seeing the effects of the headache on her when there wasn’t much they could do to help with it beyond just being around.

They’d eventually ended up at the library in the lower levels of the house, quietly reading in between small snippets of conversation. Their time in Weav had deepened their already tight bond, enough they could almost guess what the other was thinking just based on surface clues. Venny had dug into a couple of books on the surrounding areas and their flora and fauna, while Vimmy had found a few accounts of things the Ravenskys had taken part in in the past and settled down to read through them. Oh, here was an account of the Hinagon, Celeste had mentioned that before. And Dawn had video of the event, which is mainly how Vimmy knew about it. She’d only done one move at said event, one hell of a kick to the enemy, but it had been…well, one hell of a kick. Against a Harrower, everything counted. She’d broken most of the bones in her leg doing it, according to her, so she sure as heck hoped it had counted.

Vimmy had been returning some of the books she’d taken to their places on the shelves when she’d found another one that looked interesting, but when she’d gone to take it there had been some resistance to being removed, causing muffled sounds she couldn’t immediately place; A few seconds later the shelf seemed to dip and then silently parted from the wall like a door, she stepping back and making a surprised sound. Venny had looked up at her then stared as Vimmy examined the parting, pausing and turning to her with big eyes. “Uh…”

“Yeah, I see it. What’s that, do you think?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I dunno, a secret room? Maybe a passage or something?” She said hesitantly. “Come here, let’s… Let’s check it out!”

“Eh… I don’t know. Secrets are secrets for a reason, you don’t think it’s a little like snooping?” Venny asked; despite saying that, she was still rising and walking over to join her.

“I think if it were like that, there’d be no chance anybody could find it. This is probably more like a normal secret, not a life or death one.” She pointed out. Venny nodded, seeing what she meant. “Well- oh, okay. Just a peek, though.”

They held their breath as Vimmy slowly opened the bookshelf, both noticing it didn’t creak or make a real noise when she did; That probably meant the hinges weren’t old or rusty. The sight of many crates and boxes greeted their low light vision, the two of them hesitating at the entrance before walking towards them all. It seemed the room was being used for storage more than anything, from what they could tell.

“...Huh! It’s not what I was expecting.”

“What did you think it was going to be?” Venny said, smiling a little. Once she’d seen the crates stacked neatly she’d been reminded of holiday decorations bundled away in a garage, even though she knew that wasn’t the case here.

“Well, I don’t know! Some big thing you wouldn’t want people to just stumble across, I guess.” She pointed out. Venny shrugged. “I think these count. I wouldn’t want a bunch of boxes all over my house either, tripping people up and taking up space.”

“What do you think is in them?”

“I’d say it doesn’t matter, that’s a step too far. They’re in here for a reason even if it’s totally benign. I don’t want to poke around in them, we’d have been told if it was something we should have looked at in the first place.” Venny decided, Vimmy hesitating before she nodded in agreement. “Well… Huh. I wonder how many secret rooms and passages and things there are here in the house.”

“Hundreds. Maybe thousands!” Venny said, before she laughed a little. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Think you can figure out how to close it back up?”

“I sure hope so.” Vimmy said, taking a look over her shoulder at the crates as they walked back out. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but wonder…

As it turned out, closing the secret passage was just down to pulling on the false book again. The two girls resumed perusing the shelves.

It was Venny who noticed the lone book on top of said shelves, having been out of sight before the hidden door being opened had adjusted its position, apparently having been right on the ‘hinge’ between two bookshelves, and being ‘left behind’ when the door was closed again. Hovering up a bit, she pulled it down. This one was a bit dusty, but the title was clear.

THE FOUR BIDDEN LESSERS.

The book was also locked. As in, it had a lock keeping it closed, like a diary.

“Hey- look at this.” She said, after wiping the front off with her palm. “It was up top there, sort of tucked away.”

“The four bidden- the forbidden?” Vimmy asked, leaning in and squinting at the lock. “What’s that mean?”

“I think it’s actually four, or a play on words or something. It’d just say forbidden if it was forbidden. Though I guess that could be why it’s locked shut like this.” Venny said, looking down at it too.

“Huh! We’re finding all kinds of things in here. What do you think it says?”

“I have no idea. I don’t remember anybody saying anything about Lessers, four bidden or not. Do you?” Venny asked, Vimmy shaking her head. “Maybe it’s something we’re not- No, that makes it sound intentional. Maybe it’s just something that has no bearing on us, you know? Like how I wouldn’t expect Julia to know about, I dunno, ancient Roman culture or something. It’s just not something that would come up for her.”

“I get what you’re saying. Well… Let’s show it to mom, maybe she’ll tell us. Or at least, take it back and hide it better. If we weren’t supposed to see this either it probably should’ve been put somewhere we wouldn’t just run across it. At all. ” Venny suggested. Vimmy nodded before looking back down at the lock on the front. “...Why do you think it’s bound like that?”

“Probably not meant to be read by just anybody at their leisure, would be my guess. Who knows why? But that’s the only reason I could think of. That or it’s a private matter, but it comes to the same thing.” Venny pointed out. “We’ve got a few minutes before she wakes up again, let’s clean up and then we can get to the bottom of this.”

—

The fact that Celeste, who had woken up for her ‘soup and book’, looked a touch alarmed when the two girls showed her the book they’d found was worrisome.

“...you certainly know how to keep me on my toes. This is not the kind of reading material I should peruse at this time. For relaxation, anyway. You were down in the lower libraries?”

Yes.

“Curious little cats. Well, at least you didn’t try to open it. This keyhole is a fake. Attempting to force the book open or insert a key into it will trigger spells that would destroy it. If we don’t want it opened, it stays closed, and if someone tries to get it open anyway, well…some things are better lost. No no, it’s not an EVIL or cursed book or anything.” Celeste said as the girls looked worried in turn. “It just has…things we like to have recorded…but not things we’d like to have known.

“...but you did stumble over it, which might be an indication from the universe. I do think you girls can handle the knowledge of what’s in here. Maybe not in EXECUTION, but just so you know what it is, and why it’s hidden. All right, the actual way to open this is…hook my finger on this corner…there’s a very tiny button…the code is…three presses…” A very faint series of clicks. “Then one…then five….and then four.”

Click-clickclickclickclickclick-clickclickclickclick. The lock part on the front of the book popped off, allowing the book to be opened.

Within…was what appeared at first glance to be an anatomy book, with handwritten pages and all sorts of instructions and theorems.

“We’ve told you about the subset of Stream-based uses for combat and general use on the body and mind. T.A.N.G.L.E, thaumaturgy, and the basic techniques for using it for attack and defense. Which neither of you can use because you can’t tap the Stream, but we did still show you said basics.” One might not be able to repair an engine themselves, but they could still look at and understand the blueprints. “The Fray and the Aegis arts. Like martial arts, there are ranks to them. Various things let you do more, more power, more variety, and so on.

“Well…these are techniques off the end of the map. For combat, the Fray, that is. Stuff we personally developed because…well, we’re strong and…kind of prone to excess.” That was one way of putting it. “Techniques we’ve determined are…somewhat workable, but not feasible. Even for us, especially with extended use. Hence the name. There’s four of them, it’s wordplay…as for Lessers, it’s our naming convention. Now, as said…these are techniques we personally developed, but overall, we’ve decided that the risks and long term detriments mean we don’t want the knowledge being wide spread.We haven’t even taught any of our children these techniques. We don’t want to risk it. For the most part…every now and then, somewhere in the world, someone who’s a good person starts figuring out one of said techniques in their own way…and we, if we found them, would combine our knowledge with theirs so they could learn it in a more safe way. And do our best to make sure that knowledge stays with them. There’s been like…seven people like that, over the years. And some bad people, but we just made sure they couldn’t do anything. We haven’t even shown this book to our friends and family, the 44, any of them. But between your devotion to us, and your unique bodies meaning none of these would likely work for you, I think I can tell you. I assume, like the secret history of our world, you’ll keep it to yourselves.” Well, yes. That went without saying. The two girls would have kept very BAD secrets for their mother; ‘good’ secrets like this they’d likely die before revealing. Unless they determined it was best otherwise of course. They were still learning the finer details of that possibility; hopefully they’d never have to use that knowledge. Sort of like what was in the book, actually.

“The first one, you wouldn’t even need if you COULD use the Stream. You already sort of have it, based on your altered semi-artificial muscle fibers, the ‘merged twitch’ muscle fibers and all that. But for us normal flesh and bloods, we call the technique Heedless. It’s using the Stream to invoke full use of uninhibited muscle power at will. What makes it different than say, a panicking mother, is that it is executed across the entire body. All the muscles, in sync. Which just means more ways it can go wrong. Tear your body up horribly, break your own bones…but, it does provide a considerable strength boost. But, as said, your muscles just sort of do that naturally, so it probably wouldn’t work for you at all. Same way the Glorious didn’t affect you.” Now that they had some context, they could see how the anatomy drawings tied to what Celeste had said, the specific instructions on Stream control, the results, and the downsides. It did seem to cause severe muscle swelling, like your body was actually getting extra mass added directly to it when the technique worked…and the damage that could happen during it or if you didn’t ‘cool down’ properly.

After the book was opened they’d taken their standard formation of one dragon on each side, Vimmy and Venny blinking down at the diagrams and written notes with a little surprise. Neither one had quite expected the reality, but the gist made sense to them; There was always something new to learn in any arena, and Stream-based applications would fit right into that… especially with other people likewise working on their own understanding of it all. Still, the title being both four bidden and forbidden made a little more sense. While initially disappointed that the sum of their own Stream capabilities were and always would be a true option of last resort, it hadn’t made them any less interested or curious in a world beyond their own.

The Heedless technique sort of exemplified that, and the other takeaway; They already had so much going for them there was no reason to be greedy. The drawings and notations were a little clearer from the first, but even the obvious side effects or ways it could go wrong pointed out pretty clearly why it wasn’t something to be messed around with idly.

“...Huh. So this would sort of be, the next logical step from using the Stream to boost your own movements and capabilities, I guess…” Venny muttered, narrowing her eyes. “No wonder it’s off the edge of the map.”

“...It really does come down to anatomy to a pretty big part, doesn’t it? Even before we really knew exactly why some of the things we’ve seen and been in didn’t quite take on us, that was sort of our guess.” Vimmy said, not quite going pale but a little preoccupied by imaging the use of uninhibited muscle strength. She knew the body had locks on it, both physical and mental, to prevent just that, because of the danger and trauma, but in a pinch… She could see why it would be forbidden off the rip.

“Especially for the next technique. This is one I’ve used. I’d used. Heartless.” Ah, hence the ‘Lessers’ name. Were all of them going to be named Something-Less? “We’ve shown how Stream use acts as a growth agent for our bodies. Allows us to be more than human. This is generally a sort of all around strengthening and toughening as you learn its ways, but it CAN be targeted. The Heartless technique, we’ve basically determined that specialized training to apply an extra amount of that process to the cardiovascular system is needed. Without that, things go bad real fast. Not impossible, but…well, real bad. But, if you improve your body the right way, like I have…Heartless overclocks the cardiovascular system. Which in turn rapidly boosts the metabolic rate of the body. We also called it Hummingbirding, because when done…it sounds like a hummingbird’s wings. Made very loud. You can hear the person’s heartbeat like a muted drum even when it’s just ‘warming up’...and when it’s going, well, the average person’s heart goes at 180 or so beats a minute or so when exerting themselves…Heartless can double that, even get it close to triple that rate. It almost sounds like a buzzing low roar at that point.” From Celeste’s tone, she definitely sounded like she was speaking from experience there.

“The technique also requires a sort of ‘skin breathing’, because the lungs can’t provide enough oxygen for the blood to get the effective ‘supercharge’, you need more air. Done right, it mainly increases your capacity to utilize acceleration and torque to make your blows stronger. And it can, and pretty much will, cause blood vessel damage, cerebral hemorrhaging, damage to the brain from how fast the blood is being run through the body, we’ve noted memory loss, and hallucinations, both visual and audial. I had those, the audial ones. And of course, overdo it or go past even your extended limit, and you get heart failure and death. Or in two cases we’ve recorded…literal heart explosion, the organ just going too fast and hard and breaking completely.”

It also apparently caused skin darkening and intense vascularity, there being a drawing of Celeste with her body a mass of superficial veins bulging across her whole drawn form, including eyes stained red with burst blood vessels, which, from how it was drawn, made her look like her eyes were a midnight black.

“Patty started figuring this one out on her own…we’ve asked her to stop working on it until she turns 21. If she still wants to consider it as an option, we’ll consider teaching her the technique as we’ve designed it. I hope she changes her mind. I’m pretty sure the reason I react so badly to the cold when I’ve sealed myself is because I damaged myself using it. But…doing so saved lives. So, a worthwhile sacrifice.”

“...Oh, my god.” Vimmy said quietly. The How made sense, it followed one thing after the other… but the full reality of it still made her swallow and put a hand over her mouth. It was a specific sort of targeting, the kind of thing that would obviously be an ace held back in reserve, but the consequences were- Despite herself she could imagine it, a heart beating so hard and fast other people could hear the motion and blood pressurized beyond what anything could normally have and survive. Even though they were entirely different, she couldn’t help but wonder how a mechanically assisted heart like hers or Venny’s would compare just down to the numbers.

“Huh. So this is- Yeah, it would be the next entailment. I’m not going to pretend the implications aren’t a little terrifying, but it does make sense as progression.” Venny nodded. “You definitely weren’t kidding about the more than human part. I honestly can’t imagine anyone who wasn’t trained, ready, and prepared trying something like this and living through the next ten minutes of their life.”

Vimmy looked back down at the annotations and the drawing itself, not able to keep from it. As cut and dried as it was, and despite the scientific sort of way it was presented… the sketch of Celeste still looked like she was in pain to her, and Vimmy could just barely imagine the totality of the feeling. She leaned a little bit back and then made herself look again, because it was important.

“If it helps, Patricia’s unique ‘Bones’ technique where she can somewhat ‘rubberize’ her form might make it safer for her to use…maybe. We’ll see. And even so…Stream healing, and specialized healing like the chrono-manipulation my sister in law Christine uses can repair heart damage. And there ARE heart transplants. In THEORY, you can handle the damage the first two of these techniques can, and will, cause. The last one we’ve actually…worked out, though? Not so much. We alternately call it Timeless, or Mindless. There’s training we do that allows us various kinds of altered perception, but those are, if you can manage them, safe…well, safe-ish. Think of them like when you were growing your seeds. Correct use of the soil, water, plant food, light, all combining to make a better whole.

“This technique, however, it’s akin to feeding raw Stream energy into the seeds to induce immediate, explosive growth. Specifically, Timeless involves directly manipulating your brain’s bio-electrical signals via Stream technique to induce a condition called tachyphysia. Your brain actually enters, or more accurately, is forcibly warped into an altered state where its perception of time gets slowed down, directly. Beyond hand-eye coordination, or reflexes, or Stream empowering of those, or Christine directly fiddling with local time itself…in this state, fast movements, actions, events, they all go at a crawl, and those who are ludicrously fast, even they seem to move slow. I’ve seen Christopher catch bullets between his fingers using the technique, and someone else we helped figure it out repeatedly dodged lightning AFTER it had been fired. That is something of extreme note; if you want to dodge lightning, even if you’re as good as us with potential and training and Stream use and all that, we, and you, do it by assessing it’s coming and moving BEFORE the bolt is fired. Because lightning goes at 3,700 miles a second. Once it’s out, no amount of reflexes can help you. Unless, in our world anyway, you use Timeless. Well, and have an incredibly well honed body and reflexes, but no one who could figure out and use Timeless WOULDN’T have that.

“I’m sure you can hazard a guess on why this sort of thing is bad. But altering your brain’s own natural electrical signals is just part of the danger. It also forces your brain to process information much faster than a brain is meant to. Christopher only used it because his brain’s been altered, and he can shunt some of the danger onto the computers inside his head, interconnected with his actual brain. I…wasn’t so changed, so…I made minimal use and quickly abandoned it. And tachyphysia can go the other way: you see things happening faster than they are, instead of slower, which doesn’t help you at all, so you have to not only induce it, but induce it the right way, which adds more strain and consequence. The brain is the one part of the body that doesn’t naturally heal and get restored if it’s damaged, and that holds true with our special healing techniques as well. Christine can do more with her unique one of a kind powers, but she’s one woman. Timeless causes death, brain damage, paralysis, insanity…or well, our studies indicate that it would do that. We don’t have a lot of real world data to draw on. Even using it ‘right’, it rapidly becomes akin to basically doing one of those colored block puzzles that you have to twist around to try and make all the colors the same on each side…with one hand. On a time limit. And if you fail, you get badly electrocuted. And honestly, electrocution and death is a kindness to some ways that it could go wrong. At least, that’s what we theorize.”

Those ‘theories’ had drawings, of course. People whose heads were literally smoking, their hair on end from static electrical ‘sidecharge’, their pupils so small that they were more or less gone, inducing a sort of ‘blank madness’ in their gaze. There were also considerably less notes than the first two: the Heedless technique could have been learned out of the book, and the Heartless could probably have been put together if you had other knowledge learned from Stream technique use. But the Timeless? Only a few solid details, and otherwise a lot of theorizing and in some ways, catastrophizing.

Listening quietly, the two had nodded along as the picture of Timeless made itself clear to them; More than just a garden variety Haste effect or something like that, it was a totality of speed and reaction that made it much more. Even early on in Celeste’s explanation they were able to grasp the particulars of why it wasn’t something to be trifled with or the sort of thing that could be flippantly experimented with; Any other organ for the most part could be healed, or fixed to a degree, or something along those lines, but brains were a different matter entirely. It was partly why their own hadn’t been replaced or slotted with machines, only the outputs and inputs enhanced.

“...sounds about right. To go back to something, the whole thing of dodging lightning- Once it’s coming it’s too late, but with something along these lines, I could see that making the difference. You’re barely measuring a space between seconds, you’d be, well, the whole rate of everything would just stretch, I’d think.” Venny nodded, raising her eyebrows. The fact that Christopher and her mother had managed to utilize it surprised her on the surface level, but not much beyond that. IF anyone would have the ability to do so and live…

“I can see why this one is a lot of conjecture and thought but not a lot of practical experience. After it’s said and done I don’t think anyone would be in a state to get much information you couldn’t already guess from.” Vimmy said, once again taken by the drawings and sketches of the potential aftereffects. She’d immediately grasped why there weren’t as many notes… In their own ways, both the dragons were a little morbidly curious; If this was the third of the Lessers, what was the fourth? And their mother, after all, was a mind reader.

“The last one, well…it’s more or less just theory. It’s taking all these and combining them. Using them all at the same time. We just, for lack of a better term, call it Nevertheless.”

This was just a few small notes and sketches, mostly what looked like math equations that showed the process was essentially impossible under virtually all circumstances.

“From what we’ve learned, as we have no practical experience at all…this wouldn’t work. It can’t. The strain of it, the pain it would cause, the DAMAGE it would do to you even if you somehow got it ALL perfectly synced…well, maybe you could use it as fuel for a suicide attack, but there’s easier methods for similar results. So you’re probably wondering why we have it at all. Well…there’s a reason.

“We’ve basically come to realize that if you wanted to use this…you’d need more than a Stream hardened body, or something like your bodies. You’d need a healing factor. One of very high strength. Convert energy directly to mass strength. And…well, you’d need to basically enjoy the pain. Blocking it wouldn’t work; it would interfere with the Timeless technique. You’d need to be so warped physically and mentally that the pain of Nevertheless would be like a drug high, sheer ecstasy, all lines broken in pure SENSATION and power. And there was only one…thing we knew that fit that description.”

Over the page went as Celeste turned it, to that lone possibility, the drawing of her. They’d never seen her, but they knew her. The story fragments of her had forged a very, very firm and dark picture.

“Patricia Delhart. Agony. In her prime. She…could go on a level that might still exceed anyone else on this planet. My husband in his prime, him and his friends, him and me operating in perfect sync…she could match it and go past it. If she wasn’t so damn crazy and in need to HURT, she would have been unbeatable. We think that in terms of actual execution, she used the Nevertheless theory technique we’ve puzzled on to just keep going past even the limits we have, because she loved the pain and her body healed from everything. So, by that fact, no one else will ever be able to figure out this Nevertheless technique. To make it work, anyway. It would, will just kill anyone else. But we have it recorded, as something that might exist. What little details we think are most accurate. And the hope that if it DID exist it’s now lost and forgotten. Nothing in here is going to teach you it. It will just lead you to a horrible demise. But…while we think that such knowledge SHOULD be recorded…it needs to otherwise be locked away. Because too many would seek it anyway. And well, we can’t say with 100 percent certainty that absolutely NO ONE could figure it out, especially if there’s even the slightest hint of how.

“So, as we wrote it down, as wordplay. The Forbidden Lesses, Four Bidden Lessers. Commanding yourself to find the edge, and then go past it, draw a new line…and then, if you dare, step past THAT. To make all else before you a lesser. Hence we have it locked up as you found it.

“That is that, more or…less. I’m sure your questions are well answered. With that all said, I’m going to re-lock it. Just leave it by the bedside for now: I’ll replace it downstairs when I’m feeling better.”

Vimmy and Venny had been a little surprised by the picture of Agony more than anything; Not because of who it was, because in all the things they’d heard, and the stories they’d been told, their mental picture had been pretty close to the reality. Not a perfect one to one, but close enough that despite it just being lines on a page they were still taken aback. Any one of the individual techniques was essentially flirting with death, but all of them in one person- especially a creature that lived and breathed pain and atrocity- was a horrible thing to imagine. They understood why it all should have been recorded, but both silently agreed with locking it away.

“...Yeah. Yeah, I’d say they are. Thanks for telling us and not just glossing over it all, I don’t think either of us really grasped how far things could go if they were pushed. Even with our enhancements and what’s been done to us, it’s still… I guess there’s always going to be a line of some kind, and maybe that’s a good thing.” Venny slowly nodded.

“We’ll leave it right here.” Vimmy said, before she hugged Celeste from the side. “...Thanks, mom. We’ll be back soon.”

As they left, both in their own private thoughts over what they’d learned, Vimmy couldn’t help but look behind her at Celeste. The picture from the Heartless technique had stuck with her, and even though she knew she was made of pretty tough stuff, it was still a little worrying to her. She’d move past it soon enough, but… It was a reminder that some things were beyond the pair for a reason and to be grateful for what they had instead of what they couldn’t.

Winnowwill, Part 4

-Douglas Dam, Tennessee. Officially classed under geographic terms as part of the nearby, southward Sevier County. Which was about 20/25 miles north of ‘The Crayon’ give or take a mile or two-

The funny thing about some structures; you could run them smoothly with fewer people than you’d expect. Such it was with Douglas Dam; a few phone calls and you could shut it down for a day and no one would notice. And move your people in to do what was needed, just as long as you didn’t break anything.

Well, as long as it was a simple thing like a meeting. Still, in terms of neutral ground, Hudson had seen worse.

And she expected worse. That was why this time, she’d actually brought some muscle. Forvale hadn’t wanted to be called in, but Hudson’s authority exceeded her own, and she’d brought along Vici and an assortment of goons to begin the process of clearing and securing the surrounding area. Being disappointed in the security of others had underlined to her that their own forces were the only ones she could really depend on to do their jobs and be competent at the same time. The rabbit-eared commander had been appraised of the situation and taken to her role without any words of complaint no matter what Hudson had taken her from, too professional to gripe.

And for her personal guard, Cole. Who honestly might have been overkill, but Hudson had spread out her own forces too much around the area to have any other real choice, and Cole hated guard work and observation work; she was either ‘give me action or don’t bother me’. Mannifred, having much more in the way of gun toting goons, criminals drawn from various walks of life, all seeking the easy money that being part of Benedictine’s kingdom could allow them access to, and in some cases, even more, as Creed showed (his recent disappointment aside, he was a good earner and more subtle with the use of what he’d been granted than you would think), would provide virtually all of the on site security. Between Cole, and the driver of her SUV, she figured she had enough people on that ground as she arrived in her personal vehicle.

You’d think it would be the opposite, that she would want all her people here, watching and combing and waiting to see if they spotted anything out of the ordinary. But in Hudson’s mind, she was one step away from just washing her hands of this. The attempts to figure out who Winnow was had only eliminated who she WASN’T working for, not who she was, which meant her motivations were still a complete wild card. Oh, she’d sounded like she was in this for altruism, but if you believed everything that was told to you the first time out, Hudson had a bridge in Brooklyn to sell you. If Winnow showed up, Hudson would just leave, Cole protecting her and the 3T. Winnow had demonstrated a fair degree of skill, but Hudson was 80 percent sure that 1) She wouldn’t engage in a straight up fight with Cole, and 2) She’d lose if that was forced. After all, while she’d made a fighting retreat from that party, she hadn’t exactly left a trail of bodies the whole way out. And Hudson actually knew math, so she had concluded that those odds were good enough.

Her driver, Hudson thought her name was Emily something (and she had been checked to make sure she was not Winnow in disguise), got out of her driver’s seat and opened the special doors built into Hudson’s vehicle; having wheels for feet meant that getting out of small spaces could be a little tricky, and if Hudson activated her ‘grip’ feature she’d tear up the car’s inner floor over time, and she hated that sort of gradual damage. She’d had a great aunt who’d smoked like a chimney and seemed ‘the picture of health’ to several accounts until she’d developed cancer; A seven year old Hudson, pulled along on a visit, had been rather terrified of how frail and decayed the woman had become in the space of three months. She’d died soon after, and as she’d grown up, Hudson had come to conclude that the damage she had actually been inflicting on herself with her poison had been so subtle that it had finally resulted in a complete collapse when it finally got too much to bear, all at once and ‘out of nowhere’. You had to take care of things; even small, seeming unimportant damage added up, especially if you dismissed it.

Cole hadn’t used a vehicle: she knew how to drive (several kinds of vehicles, actually), but why waste gas and cause pollution when you were faster and more agile than most any vehicle on the planet? She’d beaten Hudson there and was waiting by the parking area; judging from her bored expression, she’d also done a sweep beforehand.

“All clear, boss.”

“Right.” So then, Winnow.

What were you planning?

—

“The problem with this insertion is that we don’t have the time we did for the first one. Based on how we’re handling this, we can’t use the Land Lark again. Too much needed setup. Trying to drive up or fly up, or drop in via parachute, probably too risky. I suspect they’ll be paranoid and alert, and checking people. Barring a really good distraction or two…so. We’ve decided that the best way to get in is the old fashioned way, along with the slow and steady way.

“No Log Togs this time. This time, we’re going with something borrowed from another master of insertion. Evolto, quit snickering, that’s far too easy for you. This is OctoCamo.”

Oh joy, a skintight bondage esque outfit, in terms of what the material looked like. And she barely had the figure to pull it off, Vesper mused.

“I see the sour look. Trust me, this is worth it. Put it on, activate it, and…”

The long glove on Dawn’s arm, applied so she could demonstrate, shimmered and completely took on the texture of the table she’d laid it on. When moved, it took on the texture of the wall it was laid on in turn.

“Complete adaptation of the surrounding space, color, depth, all of it. It also fiddles a bit with light to make your form have less depth, ie, you’ll stick out less if you press yourself on a wall or floor. It comes with a full face and head mask, of course. It can also hook up with your glasses to sense nearby movement, because otherwise you’re somewhat blind while wearing it. But, plant yourself fully against something and don’t move, and as long as no one normal gets a close look, you can probably walk right past them, or have them walk right past you. However, it won’t foil anything that detects heat, or motion. But considering this is likely going to be a makeshift meeting place, I doubt it will have anything fancy like that in place.

“But, two problems. One, again, the battery is limited. You can’t wear it for hours. Not even AN hour. So you’ll need to be slow and steady in a fast way. “ Vesper gave the woman a look. “You know what I mean. Also, it gets hot after some time. Hot enough to risk heatstroke. So, again, we’re on a clock here. But as things are now, it’s your best option for getting in undetected. Blasting your way in, well…if I thought that would work, I know blunt instruments. This is going to require both stealth and the quick problem solving you’ve demonstrated, Vesper.”

“The jammer, mother.” Vent said, speaking up a reminder.

“Oh yes. Another small piece of gear. That Hudson woman has technopathy. You caught her off guard the first time, but she’ll be expecting trouble now. We need to keep her from accessing your tech if she tries, and perhaps more importantly, not noticing there’s a ‘cold spot’ that she can’t access, hence warning her you’re there. It doubles as a hacker type device, if for some reason you need to access a radio or phone, but the primary purpose is to keep Miss Crete out of your tech and not have her notice that fact.”

“Anything else?” Vesper said.

“Beyond that, a simple wrist grapnel to pull yourself places. Don’t use it with the Octocamo active, it will cause rapid attempts to camouflage due to you moving so fast and burn the battery out more or less immediately. Beyond that, well…just Immiserate. And your exit; the pilot and gunner have been hired and are ready and waiting. If we’re lucky, you won’t need the gunner. But I don’t like working around luck. I guess I’ll have them carry some stuff, just in case. Hmmm, all things being equal…we might be able to allow one or two other items, depending on this and that. But we’d have to choose those extras very carefully. And I’m not liking the logistics of taking a gun in. Any kind of gun.”

“Understood.” Not liked, but understood. “So, you want me to…crawl in?”

“Unfortunately, the timeframe isn’t wide enough for that. We’ll need more information to decide on the best option.”

That ‘more information’, when it came, pleased Dawn.

“Like I said. There’s something we can do here that I deemed carrying too much risk with the party at that mountain home. But a place like this, a neutral meeting place…it lacks aspects that prevent me from just doing this…as we tend to.”

—

As said, driving up or walking up to the dam was probably not going to work: even if Vesper did somehow sneak in via that, she wouldn’t benefit from the ‘just part of the background hired masses’ this time; if anyone saw her, the unknown element of her presence could well put people on alert, and if they knew something was off, the game might well be up right then and there. The Land Lark would take too long. Insertion via the air carried the same risk of being spotted. Insertion via the water was possible, swimming inside the dam via the mechanisms used to process the water’s movement for the hydroelectric dam’s, well, hydroelectricity, but Dawn concluded that Vesper possessed neither sufficient swimming strength or things like underwater breathing that reduced the risk of such a process going badly wrong and resulting in the insertee’s demise, or, if they were hardy enough to survive being sucked into a dam’s turbines (like say, Tenshi would be), causing such obvious chaos that the inserted person might as well have just gone up to the dam with a full marching band. And between time and battery life, Vesper couldn’t set down a mile or two away and crawl over hidden by her camouflage; maybe she wouldn’t be spotted, but she wouldn’t get there in time either.

But luck was in their sails today. Both in terms of chosen location…and the weather. It was gray and rainy, at least for now. It would be passing swiftly, but the key words there were ‘for now’. It meant that the guards outside were more uncomfortable and were paying less attention as they walked around the top of the dam.

Vesper, two miles away, settled on a spot via some scan-in binoculars, waiting. Then it was just a matter of the best timing, when the patrols were going a certain way, when the clouds rumbled in some thunder…

To cover the VROP noise as Vesper was teleported from her perch onto the dam. THIS, Dawn was willing to risk a ‘Sift into’ for; the Monastery/Crayon might have had security that would have detected that, but this was just a normal dam with makeshift security.

Vesper immediately went prone, the Octocamo shifting and making her blend into the stone ground, the cameras also catching the water as it fell on her without adjusting the pattern that would have caused a notable shimmer. Okay. She was in. And there was no way back out; Dawn had basically used a ‘zap gun’ technique to move Vesper, as the distance was very short (well, short compared to the distances Sifter teleportation normally travelled); she had no Sifter token to get her back. She’d have to get out on her own, whether via her transport or some other way.

She held her teeth to prevent chatter, her body cold despite Dawn’s warning that the Octocamo would actually be hot, as she crawled along towards the staircase she’d picked out. Her first trial was one of the dam-top guards walking her way. She laid herself face down flat, her glasses’ interior lenses showing the dot as it moved towards her.

And past her. No comment, no sound that indicated she’d been spotted. Vesper waited for it to move a little further, then resumed crawling, her neck prickling: if the guard happened to look behind themselves and saw a moving patch of ground…

Someone else coming, same direction. Vesper put her face down again. It went past her at a quicker pace. Vesper tried to keep her breathing slow and…stayed still.

Good instincts; the two ‘dots’ came back the way Vesper was heading. The second dot had run over to retrieve the first, it seemed. If she’d started crawling again, odds were high she would have been spotted. But both sets of eyes passed over her as the dots moved on. Vesper thought of her mother; “The issue with security systems is always the people.” It seemed true: they were actively looking for intruders and yet they still weren’t alert or aware enough to spot her. Yeah, she was wearing fancy camouflage and had literally teleported into their lap, but still. How many eyes were here, and yet all were blind? For now. She’d best not gloat.

A few minutes passed as she crawled towards her chosen entrance into the dam: a small ‘box’ on the top of the dam that had stairs leading down into it. The door was almost in her reach, but Winnow kept alert, flipping through her glasses’ settings to see what lay beyond. Man, these were becoming the MVP of her gear…and kept being so as she was able to use their crude ‘x-ray’ function to tell that someone was at the top of the stairs and about to come out.

The man who did looked damn unhappy to do so; he was soaked to the skin already, though via what method, Vesper didn’t know (he had neglected to bring any sort of rain gear, just wearing a gray sweater, pants, and shoes with some tactical pouches). He stepped out from the staircase ‘box’, moving a flashlight around, cursing as it flickered, slapping at the light to get it to function properly, then doing a scan that took about 1 ½ seconds before turning back around and heading back into the stairwell, slamming the door, wanting out of the rain. He went down the stairs…not noticing the spreading pool of water on the nearby floor as it ran off Vesper’s suit, her camouflage unable to disguise it.

Right then…okay. Vesper peeled herself off her spot against the wall right next to the door, and as quietly as possible, began going down the stairs after the guard.

He never even looked up or around, struggling to first get his flashlight back into his belt and then get out a cigarette. When he stopped in the door that would lead to the hallway beyond, Vesper crept up behind him, went into a kneeling stance, and leaned against the wall again. There was no sound from the shifting camouflage, thankfully. This was the big risk…

Which didn’t happen; The guard took a few puffs on his smoke, and once again headed out into the hallway, not even turning around. Vesper noted on her glasses which way he was going, and then slipped out after confirming he wasn’t looking her way, leaned against the wall of the hallway, and went the other direction.

—

Despite being behind and within thick stone walls and guarded by plenty of bodies, Hudson didn’t like being as exposed as they were. It put her hackles up to have to depend on Mannifred’s security no matter how many they were or how they were armed, because they weren’t directly Benedictine's own forces (and she’d chosen to have those forces be elsewhere, so it was ‘her own darn fault’, but that didn’t mean she had to like it). Walking past the ranks and the patrols might have given someone else some confidence, but no matter how many men (and a woman or two) with guns she saw it still wasn’t enough to keep the hair on the back of her neck from prickling.

It wasn’t that they were lacking in some way, or that they didn’t inspire any confidence, but they were a step removed from Her People and that meant ultimately they couldn’t be trusted implicitly. It had already been proven to her that numbers couldn’t stand in the way of true interference no matter how big the numbers were, assuming things went according to the enemy's plan. Equipment and dispersion weren’t the issue, it was something bone deep. Waiting for Mannifred and tapping the tips of her claws against one of her wheels to distract herself instead of pacing, every now and then she’d glance over to Cole, who had taken her side and then stood still. The fact that out of everyone she was banking on the knife that walked like a woman in an approximation of a nun’s habit was maybe the clearest sign that no matter what, there were layers to the security that were obvious. Trust wasn’t quite the right word, but out of all the armed guards she knew Cole was the only one she could really depend on with any real certainty. The sooner this was said and done, the better.

She also didn't like that this room had two entrances and exits; she would have much preferred one.

How right she was, Vesper having crept her way through the hallways, sneaking past the guards, though the sweat on her brow wasn’t just due to the heat of the Octocamo, which HAD kicked in, big time. She knew she was almost out of battery time for this sort of action to work.

…one last useful side effect of her jammer. It not only made it so Hudson couldn’t pick up her ‘vibe’, but it also gave her something of an idea where Hudson herself was. Which, if she was right…was right through that door in this last hallway she’d turned down, after moving through the depths of the dam for the last fifteen or twenty minutes.

Said door was guarded by two men, with two more patrolling the hallway. That was far too many eyes to sneak around, especially considering 1) She needed to open the door still, and 2) Her glasses told her there were multiple people inside there as well.

Mannifred, as it turned out, had entered through the other door in the room, bringing a few more guards of his own (Heidi among them) and a large briefcase.

“No pleasantries. On the table.” Hudson withdrew the 3T and placed it down first. Mannifred, with some resigned concern (and oh she didn’t like what that indicated), put the briefcase down and opened it.

Okay…time to put up or shut up. She was at the most important part. Dawn said she thought well on her feet, under pressure, and quickly. Now she needed to prove all that could be true in a high pressure situation. All the talent in the world didn’t matter much if you cracked or froze up when it mattered most. So. She had been limited in what she could carry in, very limited. She hadn’t taken a gun. She had to get inside, AND deal with the people in there, as well as the guards outside the door. If she waited too long, her suit was going to run out of power. Never mind who might be inside the room. Though based on her memory, she was pretty sure one of the rough shapes was that darn Heidi woman who had punched…

…yes.

Based on what she had…she now had a plan.

It would have a lot of risk, but that was this world.

This would NOT do. Hudson could count very fast, and had confirmed it within seconds.

“...this is not the agreed upon amount. And you’re too short for me to look past.” This was, at best, 65 percent of the agreed on price.

“I need more time.”

“You had…”

“It was NOT ENOUGH. You can’t get blood from a damn stone, Miss Crete. Maybe your boss never gave you a near impossible task, but I am not going to set my house on fire for the damn insurance money.”

“Oh, look who’s grown a spine. That sounds like a refusal.” Cole said. “Let’s take a look.”

One of the patrolling guards had stopped to talk with the two at the door. The fourth was approaching. Now or never, she wasn’t going to get a better opening.

Vesper withdrew her pen.

Click click click.

The guards, those who saw it, would have thought that they’d seen a pen just come flying out of an empty hallway and roll to a stop between them.

“DAMN IT, STOP! I EXPECT BETTER THAN THIS!” Mannifred said, a strange mix of defiant, angry, scared, and sickened as Cole started for him.

“Do you? Cole, wait.” Hudson said, holding a finger. Cole halted but didn’t look away or blink, hands on her swordhilts. “Do you really? Damn near a week, and you couldn’t fulfill your end of the bargain? I expected better from you, frankly. You said you had the funds, you invited me in to make this deal, and now at the moment of truth it’s all of a sudden an impossible task and we’re not playing fair after you dropped the ball? Mannifred, you’re either screwing me around or you’ve forgotten your position in the pecking order. It’s one or the other, it can’t be neither, so let me put this as clear as possible; Do you have our money, or should I just go ahead and let Cole cut pieces off you until you die? Because once she starts she isn’t going to stop.”

Cole slowly tilted her head, only now narrowing her eyes and taking another half step forward to be in position for a lunge. She was clearly waiting for the signal to start bloodletting, like a hunting dog waiting for the point.

“Look, when we were arranging this, I was looking to do a mix of options. Having to solely do it for cash…”

Mannifred was saved from having to give any further explanation when the door to the room they were in literally blew off its hinges.

Heck, more than that. The explosive that was used to destroy the door more or less reduced said door to scrap and kindling, the blast shockwave knocking most everyone over and the closest guards inside the room outright flying; it even knocked Cole over, and she was not easy to knock off her feet. Hudson, her ears ringing so loud she wondered if she’d suffered overt hearing damage, tried to get her senses back.

Her eyes happened to be on the entrance, now afire, when the form stepped into it.

Not THROUGH it. Just into the space it now represented. Peering over some thin sunglasses, having removed the hood of the Octocamo so Hudson knew exactly who it was, Winnow locked eyes with the major domo, before she stepped back out of sight and moved on, like she was just casually strolling by and peering into the room.

Hudson knew when she was being mocked.

She was also long, long past any point in her life where it would affect her.

“Ugh…” Hudson shook her head to clear it and her ears before pointing at the space. “Every one of you that can get up, go after that girl and take care of this right now. I want her dead as soon as possible, and that means get to it!”

“Cole, you stay here.” She said as she’d started that way too, the inquisitor stopping and looking over her shoulder to check she’d heard right. “I’m not playing every card in my hand, you’re the ace I’m holding back. She’s tricky enough that just because a couple of these guys could handle it doesn’t mean they will. If they don’t, you’ll get your chance.”

“As you wish.” She bowed her head before drawing her ornate blades to stand ready, taking Hudson’s side. Hudson crossed her arms and sighed in frustration, not liking all the wrinkles in the plan that had developed in so short a time.

“And where are WE going?” She said after a bit: Mannifred had been knocked flat, and had spent the last twenty seconds trying to crawl away from where the explosion had been.

“Uggrgghhhhh…”

“He blew it again, boss. She tracked him down.” Cole said.

“Actually, that’s not correct.”

Hudson’s head jerked as the voice came over her phone. As in, her personal smart phone. Winnow had found a use for the hacking function as well.

“That whole party crashing?” Vesper’s voice continued, before it was briefly interrupted by the sounds of combat. “Never wanted to find anything there. Just stir you up. Make you make a move. Watched you closely. Not him. You. I gambled that you’d fail to cover your six if you felt that it was someone else who had compromised things. And you did. And I followed YOU. I don’t really care what happens to him, but I’d hate for someone to get murdered on the wrong infor-”

The voice cut off again per the sounds of more combat, and the connection broke a few seconds later.

Staring down silently at the phone in her claws, Hudson felt what most any person would at the revelation; Outside of taking it personal because it was personal, however, there were a few other little gleaming pieces to be raked over. The only reason to reveal something like that was because it no longer mattered in the slightest, especially that Winnow could access her phone in the first place. Things were either going to come to a head here or they weren’t, but as Winnow was in the building she could guess at how that was shaping up already. Whoever she worked for or served wasn’t as important in the moment, but it would be afterward since it directly would point to where she’d gotten her information in the first place.

Hudson thoughtfully put her phone back in her pocket, debating about telling Cole to decapitate Mannifred there and then just to tie up the loose end, but deciding it would be too much work to set up a successor as of yet. She believed Winnow about not caring about his life on the surface, since that response had been to get her goat, but there would be a tomorrow after today no matter what else happened. Besides, it pointed to pride, and pride could always be exploited… Her’s certainly had.

“I’m hoping one of them puts a bullet in her, but that’s about it for hopes. Whether or not that happens, when she makes her way out of the mess and back towards us, I’m going to have you handle her.” Hudson said, biting down on her irritation to sound calm. Cole was watching her, and she asked “Handle?”

“I’d prefer her alive afterward, but we’ll see how things shake out.” She allowed, Cole starting to smile at the possibilities.

It seemed, though, that Hudson and Cole were going to get the best of both worlds.

Three minutes later, the pair of forms appeared.

Heidi was a mess. Her clothing, already ripped up by the explosion, had been further torn by combat, both her eyes starting to swell shut, and the hand she wasn’t using covered in blood. But as the saying went, ‘you should see the other guy’, or girl, in this case. Which Hudson could, as Heidi dumped the woman on the floor in front of the two (and Mannifred).

“She got my gun. But I got her.” Heidi mildly wheezed through a split lip. Vesper’s hands had been zip-tied behind her, and her own face was a mess of bruises, even as terrified eyes darted around. “So, now you do.”

Vesper made loud mumbling noises. Things had gone very, very poorly, it seemed.

“Though, I think I broke her jaw bad. Dunno how well you’re gonna get her to talk.”

Vesper thrashed around, until Heidi kicked her upside the head and limped past her, moving over to where Mannifred was leaning on the table they’d been sitting around not seven minutes before.

“...like I said. Heidi the Hammer.” Mannifred said.

“Well, fantastic. I’m not griping about her shape, I’d have taken her dead or alive.” Hudson said aside to them, leaning down a little to peer at her. “Wish I had some zip ties handy.”

Partly unable to believe that Winnow had been taken down by a human after the mess she’d made of Creed, Hudson kept a little distance while she assessed her condition. Both to avoid being grabbed and because she knew trickery was still very in play, she was a second away from using her crown to scan Winnow for the particulars of her tech before Cole gripped one of her swords and started toward her, raising it to her shoulder for a lunge-

“Stop, what are you doing?” Hudson asked. Cole responded slowly, with clear intent.

“If she’s alive, she has a chance no matter how small. I want this to be her last chance.”

“So do I, but let’s hedge our bets anyway. Let me take a look over her and then I’ll decide if she’s more trouble to bring back without a pulse.” Hudson said, Cole glancing at her but acquiescing. “You know as well as I do taking her lightly at this point is an advantage for her. Last time we had her dead to rights everything went to hell in a handbasket, and I’m not going to lose this chance again.”

“Do you think she planned to end up half dead, with her jaw broken?” Cole asked. Anyone else Hudson would have snapped at, but Cole’s simple, matter of fact question wasn’t loaded with anything for her to take offense at. “I think I’m not going to assume anything until it’s as black and white as can be. Now let me scan her and see what all she’s packing, hard tech or otherwise.”

Hudson, as it turned out, didn’t have to use her crown to assess…certain tech.

The ‘drone board’ came in through the blasted door clear as day, though in terms of sound, as silent as a stalking cat, slashing liquid smooth through the air. Later, Hudson was fairly sure there weren’t any weapons on the front of the thing, but if it had slammed her upside her face, it would have been real bad for her, the board summoned to try and mitigate the bad situation Winnow was in, just like on the lake.

But this time, Cole was there. And Cole was faster.

Not fast enough that she managed to draw one of her swords, though. Maybe she shouldn’t have put them back away.

Still, her fist served, as she slashed out a punch and sent the ‘drone-board’ spinning off to the side in a spray of sparks and a few pieces of broken metal: in the back of her head, Hudson equated it to one of those crude robot combat shows when one of the vehicles took a bad hit. The board hit the wall, its jets snarling as it tried to re-adjust, and then Cole was on top of it, punching down on it like it was a wild animal she was trying to disable. It went down easy, hitting the ground, broken pieces emitting more sparks. Fragile, these things tended to be.

Despite being disabled, it managed one last blast of fire from its ignition system, perhaps purely by accident, that ended up giving Cole a glorified hotfoot. For Cole, it was just an irritation, but as she stepped back and slapped at her ankle, Hudson knew full well what happened when the woman was irritated.

“I’ve had enough. This ends now.” Cole stalked over to one of the nameless guards, violently relieving him of his firearm.

“Cole, just what are you doing?” She asked.

“Rectifying the situation. It’s only fair.” Cole said tonelessly, stalking over to Vesper and promptly putting a bullet in her knee.

The broken jaw muffled the woman’s scream of agony, turning them into low moaning semi-wails as Cole stomped on the wound, grinding her foot in.

“Did that hurt? Not so clever now, are you? Are you happy? Is this going the way you’d imagined? Go on, smile, grin, and laugh- I want to see it!” Cole hissed, eyes starting to dully shine like buttons. “Let me watch you smirk through the pain and the blood!”

“Miss Cole, really, I must…” Mannifred, speaking up. Hudson was a bit surprised at that. There was no surprise when Cole snapped around and aimed her stolen gun at him.

“GET. ON. YOUR KNEES.” Cole snapped. Her eyes were blank again, and that meant things could get very violent very fast. “Don’t speak to me, when every breath you’ve taken since this mess began has been a gift.”

“Cole.” Hudson said, in a tone of mild warning.

“Do it right now! On your knees and bow your head!” Well, Hudson was good at estimating some things, and in this case, not getting a reply was ‘best’, here. Things had gone completely out of control, and she didn’t feel like expending ‘capital’ to get them back on track.

Mannifred, trembling, did just that.

“Now then. Let’s clear the table and simplify things. We’ll be starting at zero, every one of us, and that means a reset in the status quo.” Cole said, and then turned and emptied the firearm into Winnow’s fallen form.

The woman jerked under the assault, one last wheezy gasp of agony coming from her, and then her form slumped, dead, Cole twinning the last of the gunshots with a big smile.

Which died off when Winnow’s form…sparked. Shimmered.

It hit Hudson as hard as the ‘drone-board’ might have, even as the hologram distorted and then faded away. Not Winnow.

Heidi. Her mouth taped shut. Hudson snapped her head towards where ‘Heidi’ had been. She was gone.

So was the 3T, forgotten on the table. Swiped by the spy.

…the same damn hologram trick, done in a new way. The damn board had been another distraction. This woman might well have been a magician during her day job; she had a REAL talent for misdirection.

And reading the room, it seemed. Because this misdirection had relied on outside factors. Like knowing how someone would react, it seemed. Or making an educated guess. And it wasn’t something she’d been predicted to do.

“...Cole.” Hudson said, her voice low and dangerous, only vaguely aware of Mannifred expressing sorrow over the death of his prized minion.

“...Yes?” She asked slowly, like a clockwork toy running down. Staring silently at the body, she’d lost some of her killing edge.

“You done? You had all your fun? Great. Now go get her, whole or in pieces, and this time I want no mistakes and no sloppy excess. Consider this an order from Benedictine, and not from me; You get your fucking hands on her and bring her back here, with the 3T, or so help me there’ll be a reckoning no amount of prayer will save you from.” Hudson said, the hard edge of her statement making Cole bow her head.

“...Yes. Yes, as you wish. Consider it done.” Cole said flatly, the bloodlust fading a little more to be replaced and refilled with her normal dead eyed bearing. She was gone an instant later, just the sound of her habit reacting to her speed as it flapped around her. Hudson let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose, glancing over at Mannifred.

“Good help is getting hard to find, huh?” She asked sourly.