I had no idea what Accord could possibly want by inviting me to the next Moot, but I had ten whole days before I'd find out. I had plenty to occupy me in the meantime, the first thing being the soup kitchen finishing construction.
I had met up with Markus the day after my meeting with the PRT, let him know to spread the word that the first meals would be served the morning after it was complete.
I needed the time to get the rest of the logistics in order. Namely getting the Enforcers programmed to haul the food from Fort Bluff, serve the food and load the dishes into the dishwasher I threw together inside. I had thought about taking the time to design a bot dedicated to these functions, but in the end I figured why waste the time creating a new design when an Enforcer could do it instead. I planned to have a lot of them anyways and then they could both serve food and stand as guards at the same time.
When that morning came it wasn't just the homeless I had come to recognize lined up for a warm meal, others in need of a good free meal had come, poor families, college students and various others. I wasn't complaining, the more the merrier I figured. Wasn't like it was going to cause me a supply shortage.
I showed my face for a little while that morning, or the MKII did at least. Talking to Markus and my other regulars and greeting some of the new faces.
Just as I was about to send an order for it to return so I could lay down and sleep while my Enforcers handled everything, I was interrupted by a gentle knock on the MKII's leg.
Looking down at a small girl, probably no older than five, she stared up at me through the camera. She looked just about ready to speak before making a squeaking noise and running away, hiding behind the dress of what I could only assume was her mother.
"Anna, you're okay dear, Novax isn't going to hurt you." Her mother said, before looking my way. "She just wanted to say thank you for the food, isn't that right Anna?"
She nudged her daughter, who seemed to prepare herself before stepping forward.
"T-thank you f-for the food." She said in an innocent voice.
I had the MKII kneel down to her level. "You're very welcome."
"C-can we come e-eat here a-again?" She asked, her head tilting as she asked her question.
I couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable it looked. "Of course, anyone and everyone is welcome. Twenty-four-seven, if you're hungry and your mom is willing to bring you, come eat as much as you want. Okay?"
Her mom gave me a nod with a smile and soon the two of them were on their way. The MKII returned and I got ready for bed.
Any semblance of a normal sleep schedule had long been shattered from my life. I had so many projects taking up my time and all too frequently I caught myself completely losing track of time while I worked, hours going by in what felt like the span of a few minutes. Not to mention being awake for my patrols during the night. As a result I slept when I could, a full eight hours were a rarity.
Coffee made up for any sleep deprivation, and if things ever got really bad I could always make stims designed to keep an ACU Commander awake and going in the heat of combat. Hopefully it will never come to that.
I laid in bed thinking about the soup kitchen. I was proud of it, of what I was doing. Seeing the way people smiled knowing they didn't have to worry about going hungry thanks to me felt good.
Yet it also made me feel worse.
I frowned.
Seeing all the people there talking, socializing, and enjoying each other's company. It hurt. Ever since my trigger any chance of normal social interaction was swiftly killed for me. The closest I had come for a while was the brief conversations I had with villains in Brockton before a fight broke out. Of course since coming here I had come to talk frequently with the homeless nearby and had grown friendly with a few in particular like Markus. But talking to someone through a computer screen just wasn't the same as face to face.
It was getting to me a little, the lack of true human interaction, to actually speak to another human being in the flesh. No matter how much I sent out the MKII and talked to Markus or anyone else I came across it never truly filled the pit of loneliness. I had contemplated journeying out of Bunker Hill, going for a walk on one of the nearby trails, trying to find a person to have a face to face conversation with, but I was too paranoid that something bad would happen. The PRT knew my identity, and while I knew they wouldn't be trying to arrest me on site anymore I also knew the Empire had managed to figure out my identity as well, information that could easily be sold to a third party in Boston. Not to mention I didn't want to accidentally give away Bunker Hill's existence. So I stayed inside, most I ever did was go up to the surface near one of my hidden entrances deep in the forest, my old MKI and plasma rifle close by, hidden cameras observing, ready to alert me to anyone moving my direction, there I would sit in the forest and enjoy nature a little bit, feel some actual sunlight on my skin.
I sighed as I laid in bed, at least I hadn't killed anyone again. I still didn't care about Cricket, not even remotely, and I probably wouldn't feel anything if I did again outside of the knowledge I was taught growing up that killing is wrong. A mental shift I blamed my powers on, done for reasons I still didn't understand.
After the fight with the group I now knew to be the Travelers, a level of separation from being remote seemed to be doing the trick in keeping me from making a snap reaction ending in someone's death again. So as long as I kept a cool head.
On the same note of mental changes and new skills, I believed I had identified another thing I suddenly became better at since getting my powers. As my operations were growing I was noticing my ability to multitask was much better than it had been, to what level I wasn't sure yet, but considering how far my technology would scale I was sure I'd find out in time.
I yawned, my own exhaustion was catching up with me. So I put my thoughts and my woes back into their box and let sleep take me.
It wouldn't be until the end of the week until the reactor was complete after the delay from getting the soup kitchen up and running. Then I would already be halfway through March. Once it was done I needed to hurry up and put some serious time into my economy if I wanted to keep my personal deadline of having the MACU up and running by sometime in April.
In the meantime though, side projects, the bane of the MACU's eventual existence.
The most important side project at hand was setting up a way the PRT could contact me that wouldn't be traced back to Bunker Hill.
Setting up a communication suite for the PRT to call me was quick enough, I forwarded the PRT a special number that they could call that would direct them into a heavily encrypted channel on my comm network if they ever needed to chat. And should they ever attempt to try and trace its destination I had everything setup to where it should seem like I'm communicating from inside Fort Bluff rather than in a deep hole underneath the forest.
Afterwards, I was fully set to dedicate the majority of my time towards the inner workings of the MACU while waiting on the reactor. The next two days I made decent progress, some major headway on the quantum controller. Despite finding myself getting faster at making brand new designs, the two most complicated pieces of the MACU were still taking their time.
I was playing with my hair as I was wracking my brain, trying to find a solution to a problem with one of the quantum circuits when my comms notified me of an incoming call. It seemed the PRT was making use of the line of communication I had given seem sooner than I had expected.
I minimized my work, before preparing myself for whatever they could be calling me about at this late hour- oh wait it's actually noon.
I frowned, God my sleeping pattern fucking sucked.
I accepted the call with a sigh. "This is Novax."
"Novax, my name is Agent Horne, hope you are having a good afternoon."
It would be once I got some sleep I thought. "I'm doing fine. What does the PRT want? I didn't expect you guys to actually call so soon, is something wrong?"
"Nothings wrong, but the Director wanted us to reach out, see if you'd be interested in a joint patrol?"
A joint patrol? Armstrong did make it clear his goal for me was that I join, I figured a joint patrol was going to be offered to try and slowly warm me up to the idea at some point, just didn't expect it so soon. Not that it would ever convince me to join. Still, I had no reason to decline, keeping good relations with the PRT would only help me in the long run.
"Sure, I can swing that, when and where?
"Tomorrow night, I'll forward you all the details, we can have a van pick you up from the school and bring you to the starting point tomorrow night if that works for you?"
"Yeah, that will work."
"Perfect, I'll let the Director know. Have a good afternoon."
With a click on the other side of the line the PRT Agent was gone, and all of a sudden, I had plans for tomorrow night. I felt a little giddy at the thought, a joint patrol could mean responding to calls put in directly to PRT. Perhaps I'd get my next shot at a fight with another cape. My last one with the Travelers had resulted in a defeat, but I didn't get to deploy the MKII then, only the Enforcers, and I was itching to finally use it in a proper fight. With luck, the patrol would see me facing off with more villains.
I pulled my work back up on my monitors with a smile.
A girl could only hope.
The next night the MKII got picked up by a PRT van, the patrol was going to be way outside of my usual area, down near Cambridge. Near what was considered Unmasked territory if I remembered correctly.
As the van came to a stop I had the MKII disembark and step out to see which members of the Protectorate I'd be patrolling wit-
I blinked, and then frowned.
Wards, not the Protectorate, I was going to be patrolling with the Wards.
Part of me cursed letting it slip that I was too young to be in the Protectorate. Granted I had no idea they thought I was Protectorate age to begin with or that they didn't actually connect me to my cape identity as Novax, but still.
I took a deep breath.
Just power through Taylor, you can put up with a single patrol, it's not like you've joined and are stuck dealing with school but with powers all over again. A single patrol won't kill you, it would look bad to back out now.
The two Wards, Weld and Blockade if I remembered correctly from my research, were staring at the MKII. I suddenly realized I had stepped out and started staring at them, getting lost in my train of thought. I had to stop doing that.
Not wanting to make this anymore awkward I began to approach the both of them.
Weld, a Case 53, was made entirely out of metal. Blockade on the other hand looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. Sci-fi themed plate armor in blues and grays covered her, a helmet resting on the top of her head, her mouth exposed along with bits of her blonde hair poking out from underneath. On her belt rested a mace and a tower shield was strapped to her left arm.
Walking up, Weld gave me a smile before greeting me.
"Novax, glad you could join us. I'm Weld, current Ward leader, and this is Blockade. I'd shake your hand but I'd end up bonding to the metal of your suit."
Blockade simply gave me a nod.
"That's fine, good to meet you as well. Shall we get going?"
With agreements from both of them we set out on our patrol.
It started out mostly in awkward silence, outside of Weld communicating with Console. Blockade seemed fine to walk in silence, Weld on the other hand…
"So how long have you been in Boston for?"
And just like that the silence had been broken with an attempt to fish for information. I wasn't upset, I expected as much when I agreed to a joint patrol. It would only make sense that the heroes would try to use it to snag some info out of me.
"For a little bit now." I responded, not intent on giving him an exact timeframe.
Weld simply nodded. "What made you choose to come here out of all places?"
I was not going to let the PRT know about mass points or my dependence on them. "No reason in particular, it wasn't too far a trip from Brockton and I just happened to head south when I left there. Just happened to end up here."
"That's fair, Boston's not a bad place to end up, most of the time anyways." He paused for a moment. "I assume Armstrong and Bastion gave you the general Boston spiel when you met with them."
"They did… I have to ask, is Bastion always-"
"A massive dickhead?" Blockade blurted out a little irate, cutting me off.
"Blockade." Weld frowned.
"What? He is. He's a narcissistic, stuck up, self serving, massive dickhead."
The two Wards stopped and stared at each other. I did as well, looking in between the two as some sort of silent conversation occurred between them.
"Sorry-" Blockade started with a sigh. "Bastions my dad… we… don't get along."
"You don't say…".
"He is an ass, don't get me wrong, but he's not… that bad. I just have to deal with him at home which… is something." She said, gritting her teeth.
Despite what she said it didn't sound like she actually meant it.
"An ass would be the word I would use after my short meeting…"
Weld jumped back into the conversation. "He can be difficult to work with at times… but he does good work, and there is a lot you can learn from him… even his… mistakes."
My mind jumped to that scandal I read about. My opinion of the Boston Protectorate leader falls even further.
Blockade laughed. "Oh yeah, plenty of mistakes…" Her face then morphs into a frown.
Weld coughed. "Anyways…" He began, trying to change the subject. "You got any questions for us you'd like to ask Novax?"
"Not really." I told him honestly. He looked a little disappointed at that, was he hoping I'd be asking questions about what it was like to be a Ward or something?
"What's it like living on your own in that school?" Blockade spoke up.
"It's not bad. Little lonely at times but other than that living on my own has its perks."
Blockade smiled. "Having a place of your own with no parents must be nice, let alone an entire school."
"Living on my own does have its perks, but it's not all sunshine and roses."
"Still, I wish I had my own place. Closest I have is my room in the Ward's common area."
Weld looked ready to try and jump back into the conversation when he stopped on a dime, putting a hand up to the communicator in his ear, with Blockade doing the same. Both listening to someone on the other end.
"Damn." Weld said.
"So much for a quiet patrol night…" Blockade muttered.
"Sorry to cut the talking off short." Weld said, turning to me. "I can probably guess what your answer will be, but I'll ask anyway since we honestly were just intending for tonight to end up being mostly a walk and talk, but dispatch just got a call about the Mullen Brothers causing problems. We're the closest to respond, you down to trade fists with a couple of block heads?"
I smiled, just what I wanted out of tonight. Looks like I'll get to throw the MKII into some combat after all.
"Always, lead the way."
I ordered my Phantom in the air. I had left it at base purely because I wanted to avoid getting questioned about it, I technically didn't know if my drone was considered legal to fly around. The PRT knew it existed already but they hadn't brought it up yet and I had no desire to give them a reason to if I could avoid it. Now though, I wanted the intelligence it could give me in a fight.
The MKII was currently running alongside Weld and Blockade as the three of them made their way towards the location of the call, some store the Mullen Brothers were tearing up for some reason or another.
"You know much about the Mullen Brothers Novax?" Blockade called out as she ran.
"Not really, most I know is they are twins, don't have secret identities and are brutes of some kind." I replied.
"Oh they are brutes alright, they're tough, strong and resistant to pain. That and their bodies generate a lot of heat, hot to the touch and when they touch metal with their hands they can rapidly increase its temperature, melt it within a few seconds. So don't let them grapple with you, especially with you being in a metal suit."
"What about Weld? His entire body is metal." I asked, a little concerned.
"I'll be fine, I've tussled with them before, even if I get melted a little I can fix myself later. I'm more worried about you inside your suit." He said.
"My suit has a shield it can deploy, I'll turn it on when we get close. They'll have to get through that first." Even if they do, I'm not inside, I thought to myself. "Do we have a better idea of what exactly we are responding to yet?"
"Console, do we have any updates on the Mullens?" Blockade asked into her comm, pausing for a moment while whoever it was on the other end gave their response. "Console says it looks like an arson. Callers are reporting they are burning the place down, BFD have been called but they can't move in while the Mullen's are on scene. We are going to need to take them down quickly before the fire can spread."
"Is it just us or do we have support coming?" I asked.
"Console has already dispatched Troopers." Weld jumped in. "They'll get there hopefully not too long after we do. Challenger and Chubster are also rerouting, but they are on the other side of the city. It's going to be up to us more than likely, at least until the Trooper's get there with containment foam. The Mullens are a little difficult to keep down without it."
"I've launched a drone from the school to scout ahead, it will be overhead in a second. Give us a better idea of what we are walking into." I said.
Weld and Blockade nodded as they ran.
A few moments later the Phantom was at its destination. Zooming in with the gimbal I couldn't see the Mullens on scene, but I could see the fire, the entire store was completely engulfed in flames.
"Don't see the Mullen's, either they've left or they are still inside, but the building is completely engulfed." I told the two of them.
Blockade spoke up. "They should be able to withstand the heat inside, they may still be on scene. We'll find out soon enough, only a couple more blocks."
She was right, from the perspective of the MKII I could see the smoke rising ahead.
Finally reaching the store, the fire seemed even more intense from the MKII's perspective.
"Novax, has your drone seen anyone leave since it got here?" Weld asked, looking around.
"Nope, nothing."
"Damn." He raised a hand up to his ear. "Weld to Console, no eyes on the Mullen's, buildings completely engulfed. No idea if they've already left or if they are inside the building. Please advise, did any of the callers report the Mullen's leaving?" A moment passed. "No reports of anyone seeing them leave, they might actually still be inside."
"Regardless if they can take the heat, why in the world would they still be inside?" I asked.
"No ide-"
He stopped, head snapping towards the flames. "They're here."
Looking towards the building, two men began walking out from within the flames. To say they were huge would be an understatement, the MKII was six foot eight, yet they were easily a few inches taller and incredibly bulky. Both covered head to toe in metal armor. It was crudely fashioned, like someone with the strength to do so had literally bent the metal into the rough shape of a person and called it a day. Random jagged pieces jutting out, various sharp edges in random places. Some parts were welded together, but looked as if rather than using an actual welder they had melted the ends of both pieces and then shoved them together. Like a kid smashing two pieces of putty together. Other pieces were tied together by what looked like razor wire. To top it all off the entire ensemble glowed a yellowish orange, most prominently around where their hearts would be, the few pieces of skin I could see glowed a dark red. The entire thing looked like an absolute monstrosity to wear. Jagged edges and razor wire cut into their skin at various places, but they seemed to not care. The entire visage with them walking out of the flames made them look down right demonic.
One of them had a wall safe stowed over their shoulder. Both carried what would best be described as great clubs made out of large metal pipes with jagged pieces of molten slag and more razor wire adorned along from top to bottom, minus the area where they would be held.
The one without the safe growled before speaking to his brother in a low rough voice. "See, you took too fucking long finding that damn thing and now the brat patrol is here."
"But they brought a new face with them." His brother responded with a crooked smile. "They look fun." He said with a deep chuckle as he sized up the MKII. "I call dibs."
"Mullens stand down, you're under arrest." Blockade yelled out.
Both of the brothers laughed. "Stand down? But then we wouldn't get to hit anyone, and we do love it when we get to throw down." One of them called out before the other dropped the safe to the ground before lifting up his club.
I instantly turned on the MKII's shield, blue energy surrounding the suit, before deploying the suits nano out of the left forearm and firing a reclamation beam, hitting one of their clubs, the monstrosity of a weapon dissolving into mass.
"What the fuc-"
"Holy hel-"
"Nova-"
"What are yo-"
Weld, Blockade and the Mullen's all shouted in surprise, before they even finished speaking the first club was gone and I was already started on the second which was gone moments after. "One on the right is mine." I said, before I ordered the MKII to charge forward.
"Novax wait-" Blockade called out from behind.
The Mullens both quickly put up their fists, their weapons gone from their hands. Both were surprised however when the MKII didn't slow down as it closed the distance. The MKII lowered itself and slammed into one of the Mullen's at full speed, wrapping arms around their torso as it continued forward picking them up in transit and tackling him through the wall of the building behind them, taking him to the ground inside the burning building. As they hit the ground the MKII rolled off of him, the suit sliding across the floor as it still had the momentum from the full body tackle, as it came to a stop it quickly got up to a knee turning in the direction of the Mullen. I could have sat on top of him and rained punches down onto him but Weld had warned against grappling with them, until I had a better idea of how hard they could hit or if they could alter the temperature of the metal in my suit through my shield I didn't want to risk it going down on the ground within arms reach of one of them, my full body tackle about as much as I was willing to risk in my opening move.
I quickly spared a glance at the Phantom's camera. I had wanted to give the Ward's a two to one advantage against the other Mullen by isolating the other. They had already jumped into action, Blockades tower shield now had a bright blue force field layered against it and Weld now also sported small rectangular force fields attached to his forearms, as they surrounded the other Mullen.
I didn't have time to watch their fight however, my Mullen was already back on his feet.
"I'm going to enjoy pulling you out of that tin can." He growled, a wicked grin on his face.
He charged forward.
I raised the MKII back to its feet into a ready stance, as it stood I fired another reclamation beam at his armor, specifically his helmet, dissolving the headpiece.
Mullen yelled out in anger as he closed the distance, throwing a jab which the MKII managed to sidestep, before I followed up with a right hook. Mullen leaned back onto his left heel, avoiding the punch by a hair. I let the MKII's combat AI take over, I had it programmed to be able to fight on its own, I couldn't always baby it's every move once I had more unit's under my control. I didn't think any of the less-lethal options in the suit's current iteration had any chance of putting him down, and I wasn't sure if he was tough enough to withstand a bolt of plasma despite his seeming resistance to heat, so I decided I'd have to handle this the old fashioned way, with a pair of fists. I had trained its AI on hand to hand combat, primarily with countless video's of boxing. As the AI took over it jumped back, settling into a boxing stance, Mullen immediately closed the distance and soon the both of them were engaged in a dance of fists as the fire raged around them.
If Mullen was utilizing any particular style of fighting I didn't recognize it. Regardless, he was aggressive, constantly trying to get as close as he possibly could, the MKII's AI wasn't letting him fully close the distance however, backing up everytime he closed in with a mixture of back and side steps that caused their dance to go in a circle around the room as the building burned and the flames danced around them. In one instance he managed to grab the MKII by the wrist, and I saw his hands glow brighter underneath the armor as he tried to change the temperature of the suit's metal, but thankfully he found no success as my shield separating him from directly touching the metal underneath seemed to be enough to prevent his abilities. His grip was soon forcefully removed as the MKII delivered a devastating right hook to the side of his skull, yanking the wrist from his grasp as he recovered from the recoil before coming back at the MKII anew.
A jab here, a hook there, the MKII was forced to block several blows that it simply couldn't dodge fast enough. Alerts flooding my screen with every hit about the shield's status, he was hitting hard. If the punches he was throwing hit a normal man anywhere that wasn't an extremity it would have killed them on the spot. Thankfully, the MKII's shield was leagues stronger than the first I had put in the MKI, it would hold, but him breaking through it if this went on long enough wasn't out of the question.
The MKII was landing its own shares of blows, similarly lethal to anyone that wasn't a brute, but the Mullens were and I had no idea just how many blows to the head it would take to put him on his ass.
I spared a glance at the Wards outside through the Phantom, just in time to watch as Blockade jumped in front of Weld to block the Mullen outside from grabbing him by the arm, blocking his arm with her towershield, the forcefield anchored to her shield absorbing the impact before she jumped backwards. Weld, small parts of his body clearly turned to slag and several more small forcefields now anchored to his upper arms and chest, jumped back with her as they then separated, each going for one of their Mullen's separate flanks.
I sat, looking in between both fights. Weld and Blockade had settled into a rhythm, staying on opposite sides of their respective Mullen, taking turns diving in and out, Weld with his fists and the force fields attached to his arms for defense, and Blockade with her mace that sparked with electricity whenever it struck. Both retreating whenever he turned their way, Blockade's force fields taking the blows whenever he managed to land a hit on either, it was a delicate dance. I wasn't sure exactly how they were going to take theirs down, or if they even could. Weld had a natural disadvantage due to their powers and Blockade's mace, electrified or not, simply wasn't doing enough. Not to mention the heat his body was giving off, it didn't seem to impact Weld heavily but zooming in I could tell Blockade was being slowly exhausted from the heat despite only diving in for moments at a time and using her force field coated tower shield to block most of the heat. Though, I guess all they really need to do is stall, they did mention PRT Trooper's were on their way with containment foam.
Speaking of taking them down I was asking the same question for my Mullen as I watched what was probably the most violent looking boxing match I'd ever seen. The Mullen inside had decided that trying to grapple wasn't getting him anywhere so long as my shield was still up and had committed to trading blows. I had looked back just in time to watch through the MKII's perspective as it landed a right hook into the side of Mullen's head while at the same time Mullen landed his own into the MKII's torso. Pieces of flaming debris collapsed above them as he stumbled backwards from the blow as the MKII pressed the advantage after tanking the opposing punch and throwing a left jab into his face.
The MKII seemed to be winning, but the damn bastard just would not go down. I needed to figure something out, my shield was holding, but the bastard hit hard and it wouldn't hold forever, and the moment it failed, if I understood his powers correctly, all he would need to do is grab the MKII and then he could raise its temperature up to its melting point in a matter of seconds.
If that happened and it was destroyed…
The MKII power generator would go critical. That would not be good for anyone in the immediate vicinity.
Mullen stumbled back before regaining his footing, spitting up a little bit of blood as I saw blood coating his teeth. "You're going to pay for that bitch." He snarled.
At least he wasn't completely uninjured, honestly I was surprised he wasn't coughing from fighting inside this inferno with all this smoke, but I guess they did walk out of it just fine from the beginning, the smoke and heat clearly didn't impact his breathin-
Wait. That's it. Doesn't matter how much of a brute he is, he still needs to breathe. If I can't punch him out then I need to choke him out.
Through the MKII's camera I scanned what I could see inside of the inferno as I began to concoct a plan. Retaking control I began backpedaling.
"Where do you think you're going? Don't tell me you are backing out now, I was having fun!" Mullen yelled out, squaring up and advancing, closing the distance.
I kept backing up, letting him advance on me, right until he was right under a load bearing beam that had been exposed by the fire.
Pointing the nano up into the air, a reclamation beam fired out, parts of the beam turned into mass.
With the beam compromised, the section of ceiling and roof directly above it, already damaged from the flames, finally collapsed, falling on top of him.
I kept backpedaling the MKII, narrowly avoiding the section that came down. A pile of burning debris now in front of me, I needed to move quickly, running around to the side, reclamation beam firing and removing anything impeding my path. I made my way to where Mullen should have been standing. In fact, I already saw the debris moving where he stood as he began shoving rubble off himself.
After a few moments he burst from underneath with a rage filled yell, thankfully I had already finished my maneuver. Tackling him from behind the MKII took him back to the ground, one arm wrapped around his neck in a headlock, the other going to try and restrain one of his arms.
The MKII squeezed.
His response was instantaneous as he began thrashing against my creations grip. I managed to restrain one arm, but with his free one he began slamming his elbow into the side of the MKII, the shield flaring with each blow. His struggle was intense, but it didn't take long before his movements became sluggish, and eventually he finally lost consciousness.
I have the MKII ease up on the hold, not wanting to suffocate him to death.
I look back at the Phantom's camera feed to check on the Wards, just in time to watch as two PRT vans come screeching to a stop on the street. PRT Troopers flooded out the back of both vans before advancing on the remaining Mullen.
Both Weld and Blockade, realizing their support had arrived, changed tactics and began trying to close in from opposing sides to pin him in and prevent him from leaving. The Troopers soon after spraying containment foam from tanks on their backs. Seeing the yellow-white liquid coming his way the villain began to panic, but it was already too late. As the liquid hit him it began rapidly expanding into foam and a few moments later his entire body was constrained and he fell onto his back.
Shortly after I saw as both Weld and Blockade began pointing towards the burning building while yelling out to the Troopers.
Guess they didn't really have an idea of what had been going on in my own fight.
With an arm still around his neck, for if he woke up and started trying to fight again, I ordered the MKII to begin dragging the remaining Mullen out of the building. Leaving out the same hole I had put into the side when I had tackled him into here.
As it walked outside the Troopers and Wards all tensed up, several Troopers pointing their foam sprayers my way until they realized who I was.
"Jesus Christ Novax, warn somebody before you full body tackle someone into a burning building!" Blockade yelled.
"I was fine." I responded.
"I was fine… I was fine she says, Jesus-" a groan and the sound of her face hitting her palm soon follows. "Just… let the Trooper foam him up will ya?"
At her request I laid the other Mullen brother down and several Troopers came up and sprayed him with foam in short order. Another, carrying a large bottle, began forcing a liquid down the man's throat. Looking over at the other brother I saw Weld doing the same to him.
"What the hell are you forcing them to drink?" I asked.
"One of Cask's mixtures, it should nullify their powers for about twenty four hours. Makes them easier to transport." One of the Troopers answered.
Huh. "Didn't know he could make stuff like that…"
"Has to make them special for each parahuman, and it takes a bit of work and research but yeah he can. The entire reason Armstrong went out of his way to get him transferred here was the hope that he could make one for the Butcher to help contain them, assuming we ever managed to capture them in the first place. If only it didn't take over a liter for a single dose, we could be putting them in tranq darts instead of forcing it down people's throats from two liter bottles." Blockade said.
Looking back at Weld, I watched as the Mullen he was handling was no longer glowing, his powers nullified now that the entire mixture had been forced down his throat. He began walking towards the MKII and I got a closer look at how banged up he got with his respective Mullen. Several hand shaped imprints now adorned his skin in places the force fields didn't cover or simply didn't exist in time.
He stopped in front of my suit and gave it a once over. "Glad to see you and your suit is still in one piece. Not shaken up are you?"
"No? Why would I be?" I asked, confused.
"If I was fighting a brute who could turn my metal armor into slag if he so much as touched it while fighting inside of an already burning building I'd be a little, even if I won. Are you sure you're alright?"
"Perfectly fine." I said.
He frowned, and gave me a weird look. "If you say so."
What was that about?
"Me and Blockade need to update Console, if you can sit tight one of the Troopers will need to get a statement from you for the eventual report."
"Alright." I said, Weld and Blockade then walked away talking between one another, an occasional glance being thrown my way.
My attention was pulled away from them however, as fire trucks began pulling up to combat the blaze still ongoing behind me.
"Novax." I turned towards the voice, a Trooper making their way towards me while taking out a small recorder. "Don't need anything fancy, just give a run down of what happened from your point of view. The transcript will be added to the incident report."
I gave the Trooper the spiel about my version of events. Tackling one of the brothers, brawling inside, bringing the roof down on his head before choking him out. Oh course told from the perspective I was inside the suit the entire time. After I finished, the Trooper left with a nod.
Looking around a crowd was beginning to form now that the action was over. Bystanders recording with their phones while firefighters fought the fire that had jumped to both adjacent buildings, and PRT Troopers and a mix of police that had begun to arrive kept people from getting too close.
Ordering the Phantom home, I sought out the two Wards.
I found the two of them near the back of one of the two PRT vans.
"Well, that went surprisingly smooth." I said as I approached. "How long until we keep going?"
They both looked at each other before Weld gave me an answer. "Probably won't be."
"Wait, what?"
"Getting into a fight with villains isn't always a regular nightly occurrence for a patrol Novax. Let alone actually making an arrest. Once the Troopers are ready to move out with the Mullen's we'll be providing escort and then going through a debrief and then paperwork to get them processed. Even once all that is done I'm technically injured, even if it's mostly superficial, and won't be let out again until my body is repaired. Patrol might as well be over." Weld said.
"Thank God." Blockade said with a stretch. "I won't mind getting to bed early, I hate night time patrols. Not often we're able to end a patrol this early."
"But you can come with us if you want, hang out and see how a villain gets processed after capture. Maybe get to meet some of the other Wards?" Weld asked, with a hopeful smile.
"Oh…" If I had known this would have been the outcome I wouldn't have been so glad to get a call about villains so early into the night… I was hoping to do more tonight.
"If that's the case… I think I'll just head back home. There are some projects I could work on and stuff."
Weld looked disappointed but maintained his smile. "Alright then. I'll call for a transport to come pick you up if you want."
"Don't worry about it, I'll walk back. It'll take longer but I can just count the walk as part of my patrol since our joint one is getting cut short."
"You sure? Aren't you all the way up in Arlington basically?" Blockade asked.
"Yeah, don't worry about it though. I'll be fine." I said as I began to turn to leave. "You guys have a good night."
"You too…" She called out, a strange inflection in her voice I couldn't quite place.
I noticed the two of them give each other another weird look before they both shrugged and walked over to help the Troopers load the Mullen Brothers into one of the vans.
Once I had gotten the MKII away from the scene and the bystanders, ducking into an alleyway, I ordered it to return to base and leaned back in my chair. I was still pretty happy with how tonight went despite it getting cut short. I had gotten some good data from the fight and I had helped put a couple of villains away behind bars. As disappointing as it was to have the patrol cut short, in my mind that made up for it. Besides, it got me out of having to make awkward conversation with the Wards for the rest of the night. Maybe next time they'd actually let me patrol with some of the Protectorate instead.
With a stretch I stood from my chair to go grab something to eat. The walk back was going to take about an hour and a half. I was going to need to stay by my computer for the duration just in case the MKII actually did stumble across something.
Walking into what was my kitchen, I punched in an order for a cup of coffee and a bagel into my food processor. Stepping back while the machine did its work, my eyes drifted over to a shelf in the room with a picture frame on it.
I froze.
I had forgotten I had put that there.
Sitting on the shelf was the picture frame I had taken from home when I first ran away the day I got my powers. A simple family portrait from a few years ago, before mom had died.
I hadn't thought about them in a while…
Back when I was still in the first few weeks on the streets in Brockton I had spent a few nights in tears about dad, crying myself to sleep in the privacy of the warehouse I had called home. That was back when I didn't have as much going on in terms of work.
After the Empire had hit my warehouse and I was forced to move locations I had thrown myself into my tinkering. Partially out of necessity and partially because it hurt to think about the both of them. I had thought I had gotten over mom's death before, but now that dad is gone too… It made memories resurface now that I'd never see either of them again. Now that I am an orphan.
It fucking sucked.
To avoid the pain I had made tinkering my escape, drowning out my thoughts with long sessions of designing, planning, patrolling… Anything to keep my mind on something else.
It probably wasn't healthy, but I didn't care.
Looking back at the photo I began to recall when it was taken. My eighth birthday pa-
I reached my hand up to my face, my eyes were starting to water…
I shook my head, placing the picture back down, turning and grabbing the finished food and beverage. I didn't have time for this, nor did I want to ponder memories that would only upset me. I had to get back to monitoring the MKII and after that… maybe work… yeah, I had more work to do.
The reactor was going to be finished soon, and then I needed to start all the upgrades I had planned, and build my new unit constructor in Fort Bluff.
I'd need it for the troop transport I wanted to build, and I needed that before the Moot. I didn't plan on walking. That and more Enforcers, I needed to replenish my ranks and more.
It wouldn't be just Accord at the Moot after all, a lot of other villains would be there. And I didn't plan on looking weak when I arrived.
Taylor
My reactor was completed, and oh boy was my new power limit a blast. Was it infinite? No. Would I still need more or an even better reactor later? Oh most definitely. But the power my first was bringing in was going to allow for a lot of upgrades to both my mass extractors and in making better nano constructors, and be the first step in eventually swapping over to the more energy intensive protocrafters.
The first few days after its completion I ordered upgrades across the five mass extractors. My income more than doubled by the time they were complete. Then it was a new unit fabricator inside Fort Bluff in the gymnasium, which I was turning into a garage for vehicle and unit storage.
I'd want something similar in Bunker Hill soon, but until I had enough of a power backlog for a quantum gate there wasn't much of a point since there would be no discrete way to move anything built there to Fort Bluff.
Ideally, I'd have a single reactor dedicated solely for the gate. But, considering I only had the one it simply wasn't an option at the moment.
More importantly the Moot was here. The five days I had after the reactor's completion had seen a build up of my forces as well as my economic capabilities.
Before I set out to build the reactor my Enforcer numbers topped out at a meager six units before I lost four to the Travelers. Now I had fourteen.
It had more than doubled and would have been higher if not for my newest toy I had built with the new unit fabricator in preparation for the Moot.
Two of the Enforcers stayed at the soup kitchen at all times, serving as both guards and servers for those that came to eat. The rest cycled between my patrols and guarding the school.
There were always two patrolling the school's perimeter, and four others made up my nighttime patrols. The rest I kept hidden inside for the time being. I was worried about how the PRT might react if it seemed like my unit numbers were climbing too quickly and wanted to stagger their appearances as much as possible when I could.
Besides, with my current setup I could only comfortably keep around fifty to sixty combat units at the moment. Saving the rest of my network's bandwidth for other systems, some of the space reserved for if I ever needed to entrench either base in defenses as well as engineers of which I now had six split evenly between the two bases. That limit would skyrocket once the MACU was up and running, but for the time being it wasn't too big of a deal. I was probably going to increase my Enforcer numbers up to around thirty and then save the rest of the space for the new designs I had been cooking up to diversify my unit portfolio.
The newest one that was already built was my new transport.
I had contemplated going the air route for my first unit transports, but in the end I elected to stay grounded in that department for now. Specifically because the new APC could double as a weapon platform should I ever need some heavier fire power. I didn't think I would anytime soon, but better safe than sorry. Not to mention being able to carry actual people if I ever needed to. All the air transport designs I had available to downsize without making something new weren't designed to carry people.
While waiting on everything to finish I had also put a new project on my to-do list. But one I thought was worth the effort.
Knockout gas.
My fight with the Mullens had gotten me thinking. Knocking out opponents was always an effective tactic, but I wouldn't always be able to choke people out like I had with them. That got me thinking about ways to knock people out from range, eventually I got stuck on the idea of some form of knockout gas. I hadn't made any headway on it yet, but my hope was eventually I could deploy it via grenades from my APCs or from Lobbers, a unit I had been designing based off the Lobo light artillery design, but altered for street level use.
That was assuming I could find a way to limit it's effects so breathing in too much doesn't cause people to stop breathing and die.
That problem could come later though, I had a Moot to attend.
It wouldn't just be Accord present, but every major parahuman gang in the city from what I understood, and a variety of independent villains. So I was going to roll out in force, these things were supposed to be off limits for fighting but I wasn't entirely sure if I trusted that or not. Not to mention I didn't want to appear weak, I wanted to send a strong message that I wasn't someone to be messed with. That I was confident and capable. So I was going to break away from downplaying my numbers for tonight at least.
Hopefully rolling up in the APC would send the right message.
Citrine
Citrine stood idly by Accord's side, observing the rest of the Moot around her. It wasn't their usual location for these meetings. Novax was a new player in Boston's cape scene and no one trusted her to know the normal meeting location. Not to mention, based on her activity since arriving she was clearly trying to align herself as a heroic element, despite what the PRT ENE had labeled her originally. Further supported by Armstrong it seemed with her recent reclassification by the Boston PRT, and the recent joint patrol she shared with two of the local Wards. It was standard procedure whenever the very rare instance a hero or vigilante got invited to a Moot to move the meeting to a temporary location, even if they already knew the usual spot.
A matter of principle.
She glanced around the abandoned warehouse that had been chosen for tonight's meeting. The space was cleaned as best it could be to appease her boss, Accord.
Attendance was high tonight, everyone who was important had attended. Heaven's Light and one of his lieutenants, Herald, and a couple others were present representing Mystic Mass. Dressed in their usual edgy dark angel attire, with thorny halos, creepy masks and crosses.
Not far from them stood the Irish, Morning Glory. Their leader Midr had brought several other members, but the most important one making an appearance tonight was Fury, Morning Glory's trump card. Her being here was a big deal and telling to everyone present their stance on tonight's discussion. Not to mention it would send a message to Novax if they even knew who they were. Morning Glory hadn't used their trump card in any major capacity since the Boston Games, and that had ended in the PRT using intercity missiles to put a stop to her, yet here she remained. An ever present threat Midr kept happy and around should he ever need her, though after her last rampage her mere presence was normally enough to get the message across in most instances. It made Morning Glory an important piece in the game of chess Accord played daily to maintain the grip and order he had over the city's underbelly.
On the other side of the warehouse Dark Society's delegation stood, four in total had come, though she could only identify one of them. They had multiple chapters up and down the east coast. Annoyingly, every chapter had the habit of wearing the exact same outfits. Mono-colored suits with bandages covering every possible spot of their body that would normally show exposed skin. The chapter here in Boston preferred maroon for the color of their suits. The only notable difference in dress was their leader, the one she could pick out. Compulsion, a creepy smiley face painted onto the bandages on his face.
She didn't trust that fucker as far as she could throw him. Dark Society was content with their alliance at the moment, but it was well known they've always wanted Boston to themselves. Both Accord and herself fully expected them to try and stab them in the back along with the rest of the alliance one day, probably once they felt they were fully recovered from their losses from the Boston Games, something they still hadn't truly recovered from several years later, but for now they were content to bide their time and take advantage of the benefits their alliance brought them.
The last major piece of Boston's major alliance was currently in a yelling match with Digger.
The Unmasked, God were they unsettling. The only good part about The Unmasked in her opinion was that they were easy to manage, surprisingly laid back despite their horrific self-harm motif. Beyond that though, the sight of the self-harm obsessed freaks made her uncomfortable. Spill, with parts of his skin peeled away in various designs and patterns, was in the center of the warehouse, standing around a fire someone had started in a barrel, accusing Digger of paying the Mullen Brothers to burn down some building in their territory, its importance to them unknown to her.
She had no idea why Digger even showed up. The Bikers, despite having a small permanent presence in Brookline through some persistent unpowered members, only ever came to town on business. Business that was usually with Blasto, held behind closed doors as Blasto rarely bothered leaving his lab to attend a Moot if he could help it. A pattern he was keeping with tonight.
Whatever the reason, Digger was clearly enjoying himself. It was no secret he hated Accord and the grip he had over the city. It wasn't uncommon for him to kick up a little dirt so to speak whenever in town. Never enough to warrant a heavy response, but enough to be annoying. Something he was doing now by egging on Spill. She had no idea if he actually did hire the Mullens, but she wouldn't be surprised if even if he didn't Digger was still acting smug just to piss Spill off.
Various independents had shown as well, the Travelers, who were now down a member after one made an ill-advised interruption in Accord's presence. She didn't know how long they'd remain in Boston, but they weren't going to be a permanent staple, they would move on in probably a month or two.
The Four had also shown face, they were problematic most of the time, but had been behaving as of late thankfully.
Plenty of the other independents were also present, but she couldn't be bothered to pay any much attention, other than that most of them looked bored, they were all small fish afterall.
Outside of Spill and Digger's bickering everyone was silent. The usual networking and business had already concluded, now they were simply waiting for the main event so to speak.
Novax.
They had already finished the discussion between everyone important, double checking everyone was already on the same page on how to deal with the new Tinker, and getting those on board who weren't. All that was left was sitting her down and her and Accord having a chat so to speak, everyone hanging around as both a show of unity against the potential major threat as well as simply wanting to witness the talk.
Originally the Tinker wasn't a concern when she first appeared up in Arlington. Sure the robots were something, but they didn't appear intelligent nor capable of self replication from what they could tell. If they were, the PRT would swoop in and handle it either way before it got out of hand. Boston's branch was competent enough and probably had the Tinker under surveillance from day one, something Accord was able to confirm later.
That all changed once she started building that soup kitchen.
Accord and herself, and probably anyone else that had eyes on the school she had taken over, had been questioning what she was building inside. Afterall it wasn't very often a tinker so blatantly exposed where they were setting up shop, not unless they were stupid or overly confident. But more importantly, the question quickly arose as more and more robots came in and out of the building on where the hell she was getting her material. Sure Novax came and went, but she never carried anything back with her.
That question still remained, to a degree, but less so now.
It was the beam from the other robot on wheels. One of its kind had been spotted when Novax took over the building, but no one had seen one since up until the soup kitchen's construction started. Firing a beam identical to the one seen in the footage of her fight with Hookwolf.
A disintegration beam is what she had assumed originally, or something of the sort. Everyone else had probably assumed so as well, dangerous sure, but so long as you knew she had it you could plan for it. Especially since it seemed it had a range limit.
Now though…
It wasn't a coincidence that the PRT had made contact and changed her villain status within twenty four hours. They likely had come to the same conclusion Accord had, and now they wanted her bad.
Yet to be sure that afternoon Accord had reached out to a friend of his, Coil, and paid to have a thinker under his employ submit an emergency analysis of the footage.
Atomic Reassembly was what Coil's thinker, Tattletale, had reported Novax's specialization most likely was. Ripping things apart down to the atom and reassembling them into whatever she could program into her machines. Which led to a few questions the PRT was probably also asking.
One, just how rapidly could those robots of her's be produced?
Two, if she had the atomic make-up of another tinker's technology, could she recreate it?
Three, just what the hell was she disassembling for material? Parts of the school? They had no way to be certain. Tattletail's report concluded it was the most likely outcome, but they also stated they didn't have enough information to be sure they weren't getting a bad read, which the Thinker was pretty sure she was.
The answer to question one they determined, was probably a hell of a lot faster than they were comfortable with. Especially once she built an entire trailer sized building in only a couple of days. And that was with only two of her construction robots. She assumed so long as Novax had the material, wherever and however she stored and retrieved it she didn't know, the more robots Novax had the faster she could replicate things.
That was not good for them long term. Accord was certain she had the potential to be a second Dragon with her own version of the Dragonflight in time. So the question for them was what to do about it. They hoped tonight would help answer that question.
"She's late." Accord spoke, his mask having morphed to show his displeasure.
She looked down at a time piece she kept on her wrist. He was right, the time on the invitation Othello dropped off at Novax's hideout was five minutes ago.
"She is." She responded.
Trying to give excuses for a tinker she had never met was pointless. She could only guess Novax had misinterpreted how long it would take to walk here. Assuming she was actually going to show.
"What are we doing if she doesn't show?" Midr spoke up, seemed that possibility was on his mind as well.
"Then we give her our message in a way she can't ignore." Accord responded.
Heaven's Light looked ready to put in his two cents when he suddenly turned his head out the warehouse door. Spill and Digger also ceased their bickering, looking in the same direction. Citrine soon realized why.
The entire assembly of villains all looked out the main doors as they heard the unmistakable sound of a vehicle coming towards the entrance.
Looking out the large warehouse doors Citrine's eyes widened as she saw a hulking armored vehicle driving towards them. Her eyes darted to the turret mounted on top.
"The fucking PRT is here?" Some upstart independent shouted out.
"No." Accord spoke up, just loud enough to stop anyone from getting too jumpy. "Novax is here, and she's brought a new toy."
A new toy was an understatement. Citrine had been wondering if Novax was going to bring something new with her if she came to the Moot, a show of force of some kind, but she hadn't anticipated this.
As it pulled to a stop just at the entrance of the warehouse she watched as the atmosphere turned tense as everyone present got a closer look at what had just driven in.
A large armored APC, or maybe it would be considered an IFV? A tank? Citrine wasn't sure, but whatever it was it didn't look anything like one of the armored vehicles the PRT used. It had no apparent driver's seat and no windows in general from what she could see, painted in a mixture of greys and blue with the same symbol made up of multiple squares seen on the rest of Novax's creations placed on parts of the vehicle. Most importantly however, was the massive turret placed on the top. Whatever it was meant to shoot she didn't think it was meant to be nonlethal. A smaller barrel was placed below the main one. A coaxial gun maybe? On the left side of the turret base were several tubes pointed upwards at an angle and on the other side a couple more pointed straight forward. Grenades and Missiles? Maybe, she couldn't tell what was in them, all of the tube's ends were covered.
She heard the sound of hydraulics whirring as the door on the back of the vehicle opened. Instantly the sound of metal footsteps filled the warehouse as those combat bots Novax used exited out of the back. Eight in total, four going to each side of the vehicle, spreading out in a line as they stood at attention. Blue light poured out of their cyclops eyes as they seemingly scanned the room in front of them. Not long after, even heavier footsteps sounded as Novax herself walked around the right side of the vehicle.
She was tall, or at least her suit was. Citrine could hear the suit's weight with every footstep. Its slanted blue eyes looked as if they were staring into her soul.
Her suit, her robots and now this monstrosity of a vehicle. This was part of the problem with Novax, Citrine thought. Everything she made was so militaristic in design, dystopian almost. It was discomforting.
Sure maybe it made all those homeless she was feeding feel safe, knowing that those robots were on their side so to speak. But to her, and she could only imagine for others, it put her on edge. If the PRT ever managed to actually recruit Novax she could only imagine some PR person losing their mind dealing with the Tinker's image.
Citrine was pulled from her thoughts as Novax's footsteps ceased. Coming to a stop in front of the IFV. The Tinker looked side to side across the room, taking in all the villains spread out in front of her.
"Which one of you is Accord?" Novax said.
"That would be me." Accord responded. "You're late, your invitation specifically stated to show up five minutes ago. Why the delay?"
Novax stood there unmoving for a moment before she responded. "Traffic."
"Traffic?" Accord said, questionably.
"Traffic." She responded, her tone flat.
Citrine, and everyone else present, looked in between the two trying to determine the direction the tense atmosphere was going. Accord's mask had moved into a suspicious expression, Novax's full helm betrayed nothing.
"You're shorter than I expected."
Oh why did you say that. Citrine thought.
The room froze, looking towards Accord.
His mask morphed into anger.
"Was that meant to be an insult?" Accord asked, a hint of anger in his voice.
"An observation. I merely expected you would be taller for a man of your apparent status."
Silence lingered, everyone looked to Accord for his response. His mask eased up ever so slightly, but the anger was still present.
"Some observations are better kept to oneself. I'll pardon it this time due to the nature of these meetings, but I'd suggest you learn from this for your own health."
Citrine let out a bated breath she didn't know she was holding. If it wasn't for Accord's personal ambitions and his hopes for Novax in them, that probably would have gone much worse.
Citrine looked back towards Novax. The Tinker stood there, not even moving an inch. It only now hit her just how still the Tinker had been standing, it was unsettling.
"Understood. No offense, but I've been wondering all week why I received an invitation to this meeting. I'd like to get to the point of it if we could." Novax responded.
"Of course." Accord said. "I'll get straight to the point then, what are your intentions in Boston?"
"My intentions?" Novax asked, a hint of confusion in her voice. The first actual change in her tone Citrine had noticed since she first spoke.
"Yes, your intentions. Your goals, what are you hoping to achieve here in this city? And before you ask why we want to know, let me paint you a picture. You're dangerous, to put it simply. I know it, the PRT knows it, everyone else here knows it. I don't expect you to answer any questions on your abilities or specialization, but I don't need you to. The footage of your fight with Hookwolf combined with the manner in which you constructed your soup kitchen is all anyone needs to make an educated guess. Even more so with the right thinkers. Every tinker has something they specialize in, some more narrow than others. But in my experience it's the ones whose specializations are the most versatile that are the most dangerous given time. Armsmaster, Dragon, the late Hero, a few others come to mind but I digress. Your speciality is centered on disassembling and reassembling things on an atomic level correct? Rip things apart down to the atom and assemble them into whatever you require?"
Citrine looked to Novax, to look for any reaction from the Tinker, a shift in their stance or anything.
Nothing, they stood perfectly still.
Accord continued. "Anyone that has you on their radar can do nothing but think about what your limits are. You've only been active for, what? Maybe a couple months and some change? With no one supporting you. Yet in that time you've already demonstrated more than enough to be considered a threat. You have people behind closed doors, myself included, questioning if you are going to be a second Dragon. After all, you already are building a force of drones are you not?" He gestured to the array of robots behind her. "Even today you've shown an escalation in the tools that lie in your arsenal, just how long until the numbers and capabilities of them expands to a force comparable to Dragon's own Dragonflight? So the question must be asked. What are your intentions in Boston? Is this city your focus? Are we your focus? Or is Boston merely where you plan to stage yourself, like Dragon to Vancouver? Is it merely a stepping stool for greater ambitions? Is your goal to focus on the wider world or is your focus here?"
The warehouse laid silent, bare the crackling of the fires that had been made, as everyone looked to Novax for her response.
"My ambitions are much larger than Boston. In the grand scheme I see this city as merely a stepping stool to my actual ambitions." She spoke, her voice back to that flat yet serious tone.
"And those ambitions are?" Accord asked.
"Unrelated to this discussion. But if you are worried I'm going to go on a crusade to rip out every gang in Boston put your fears aside. If you go out and openly commit a crime and I'm there I'll stop you. But my goal isn't to end the gangs here, it's to build up to my true potential somewhere where there aren't Nazi's that have a vendetta against me."
Build up to her true potential? Citrine thought.
She couldn't help but wonder what Novax viewed as her true potential, and whether or not they should be more concerned than they already were.
Accord's mask shifted into a much more agreeable expression. "Good. Perfect actually. I'll be blunt, I'm not opposed to your presence here in Boston. Especially considering you've set up in territory that currently lays unclaimed. I have a vested interest in maintaining the order I've established here. Your presence I feel long term could serve as a deterrent to… undesirables that may have ambitions in carving their own personal kingdom here, disturbing that order. But let me make one thing clear. The PRT is content to patrol and handle only what willingly pokes out its head here in Boston. They learned from the Boston Games that no matter how much of this city's underbelly they rip out, something will take its place, and they are quite content with it being me and what I have built here so long as we maintain things as we currently are. Yet, there have been independents and vigilantes that don't quite follow the same philosophy that have come and gone before. They were never a concern, because they never truly had the power to pull any of us out root and stem. However, if you ever changed your mind about what you want to accomplish here, you may be capable in time. Maybe not now, but sometime in the future. So I'll be blunt, so long as you have a presence here in Boston, conducting your patrols and crime fighting that you heroic types so love to do, we won't have any issues. But if at any point you appear to be trying to disturb the current order, tear me or anyone else in this room out root and stem, we have come to the conclusion due to your apparent… potential, to respond as a united front." He said, gesturing to the rest of the villains present.
Accord paused for a moment, letting his words linger in the air before continuing. "I would prefer it to not come to that. We do not want war in Boston. Whether that be a gang war, turf war, war between us and someone trying to weasel their way into the city or war with you. War would bring chaos and destruction, something we get enough of whenever the Butcher is in town. I'm sure you wouldn't want to place additional chaos on the people of Boston, and neither do I, albeit for different reasons. Which leaves it in our best interests for our relationship to mirror that which we have with the PRT. Do we have an understanding?"
Novax paused, letting silence hang briefly before she responded. "I suppose we do… I'm not here looking to start a war in the streets of Boston. Not unless someone gives me a damn good reason to."
Accord nodded. "We have an understanding then. Furthermore, your soup kitchen and any future sites we have all agreed to label as neutral ground. With the same protections we afford schools or hospitals. No one will interfere, and if someone does, assuming you don't deal with them yourself, they will answer for it."
"Umm… thanks, I guess? Is that it then?"
"No, there was one other reason for this meeting. Citrine, if you would."
Citrine stepped towards the Tinker. A folder in her hand that she had been holding onto this entire time. After handing the folder off to Novax she returned to Accord's side and turned to look back as Novax began looking through its contents.
"What is this?" Novax asked, suspicion in her voice.
"A detailed plan made by myself. Alterations may need to be made, after all I don't fully know your exact capabilities, but it is otherwise sound."
"A detailed plan for what?" She asked while holding up a map with several locations marked. One of which Citrine knew was the location of the Tinker's current soup kitchen.
"A plan for eliminating hunger in Boston. Centered around you and your ability to create food seemingly from anything. I've laid out the ideal path for expansion, and the best locations for future sites to give the best coverage of the city. It comes with the assumption that you can acquire the land to build without drawing ire from the PRT or the city, but should you run into any trouble I'd be more than willing to assist in the acquisition of the plots of land or buildings."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you care about a soup kitchen, let alone me making more? What does that even gain you?"
"The same thing any other program for the poor and hungry does. By helping Boston prosper. A prosperous city is a profitable city. Besides, hunger is one of the biggest driving forces for chaos. If the means exists to eliminate it anywhere then those steps should be taken."
Citrine couldn't help but smile a little. Accord was always an ambitious man, hoping to achieve great things. She'd been there as he worked on the plan she had just handed to Novax, she hadn't seen Accord seem so happy working on a plan like he had that one in some time. She only hoped Novax took it seriously, for Accord's sake. Too many of his plans that could have done good had been ignored in the past by those with the power to put them in motion. She hoped this time would be different. The idea of being able to make food from anything had gotten Accord worked up into a frenzy, she'd even seen him pull out his plans to end world hunger he had made when he still worked for the PRT. To adapt it to new possibilities just in case he said.
Citrine was pulled from her thoughts not by a voice, but the lack thereof as she noticed the room had gone quiet as Novax took a closer look at the documents in her hands. The only noises being the sound of movements from her suit and the many onlookers shuffling around as they watched and waited as the various barrel fires cracked.
Finally, the Tinker looked back up. "Thank you, when it comes time to expand I'll make use of this."
Citrine smiled, happy that for once someone new was taking Accord's plans seriously for onc-
"What about outside of Boston?" Novax suddenly asked.
What? She thought.
Accord's mask shifted into an inquisitive expression. "What about it?"
"Not right now, but down the line, what would it cost for you to develop a plan for ending hunger on a larger scale?"
Citrine's eyes widened before she looked towards Accord.
"Oh? Just how large are you planning to go?" Accord asked, a trickle of what she thought might have been hope in his voice.
"World wide."
Citrine felt her heart skip a beat. This girl had no idea what she had just proposed meant to her boss.
For the first time since the Moot had begun, Accord's mask shifted into an expression she didn't see very often.
A smile.
"I think the two of us might just get along after all."