Danse Macabre: chapter 3

Chapter Three: Caveat Amicus I have one flaw above most others: I want to know more. The Lotus has scolded me over it; Ordis has expressed frustration. Simaris and Cephalon Suda have repeatedly touted it as one of my redeeming qualities but it prompts me to sometimes hesitate when I should act, to wait and watch when I should strike, or to dally and investigate when I should move on. Right now, though, I'm glad I decided against deploying to eliminate Skidmark or Squealer without giving the matter a second, deeper look. After digging into the Merchants' history, Ordis pinned down that the thing that makes them so hated, so reviled, by the people of this time period is... that they consume, distribute, and manufacture recreational chemicals. The idea is so preposterous I still have difficulty comprehending it. True, the chemicals and intoxicants they sell are physically destructive and range from moderately to devastatingly addictive, but the other gangs also sell these compounds. Furthermore, the Merchants' level of violence is no greater than that of other gangs in the city, and their territory is not only more constrained but does not have the support of the resident base in more than a perfunctory manner. They live in the worst conditions and hide in the most wretched places, and seem only to exist because nobody else can be bothering to try and dig them out. "Why are these specific guys the most hated in the city again, Ordis?" "As near as I can tell, Operator, it is because they are the most blatant about their use and distribution of illicit chemicals combined with the fact that their member base consists of the least influential and poorest segment of their society. Combined with draconian penalties in the nation's legal system due to political pressures twenty five years ago, and the campaign since that has consistently painted the users of illegal substances in the poorest possible light, the public perception of those who produce and sell these compounds is that they are the lowest of the low." I tap a finger thoughtfully against the arm of my transference couch. "But what about the other major gangs? I thought you said that they all served to distribute illegal substances." "While this is apparently true, the other gangs identify themselves by a specific ethnic or regional background primarily, and have cemented themselves into those definitions above their mutual illicit sales." Ordis's voice pauses. "The whole matter is indicative of a strange shortsightedness. The very nature of humans is to pull against perceived restraints; by banning harmful recreational substances they all but ensure that the most temperamentally defiant individuals in their population will rebel against the prohibition." "... Or maybe people just like to have fun?" I offer. The pause is almost a little insulting. "... As you say, Operator." "Still, we're in agreement that these..." I try to wrap my mouth around the unfamiliar word, "Nyonatsies?" "Neo Nazis, Operator, in reference to a political group from seven decades ago devoted to the premise of eugenics, ethnic supremacy, and domination by conquest." "... Right. Grineer wannabes. Neo Not-Sees. They're the ones whose initiation for the rank and file involves physical assault or murder of non specific individuals from other ancestral backgrounds, right?" "That is correct, Operator, although the initiation may include-" I interrupt him. "So they're quantifiably worse than the other factions. Do we have locations for any of them?" "We will need to reconnoiter further to gather such information, Operator. And I am uncertain that even the Neo Nazis are the worst this city has to offer. There is also the gang calling itself Misbehaving East Eurasian Children. Among their criminal behaviors there is also the forced prostitution to consider." "But they have fewer, ah, parahumans. We'll deal with them after we've thinned out the Neo Not-Sees, Ordis. We don't want to destabilize the balance too much at once or else the innocent suffer. By the time we turn our attention to Long I intend for the Neo Not-Sees to be unable to capitalize on the sudden lack of competition." "And what of local law enforcement?" Ordis presses. "A thorough reading of their local statutes indicates that lethal force in vigilantism is considered murder." I hope I misheard that. "Say that again?" "The use of lethal force is strictly regulated, Operator, and may only be used against specific persons for whom a kill order has been signed unless in defense of the life of oneself or others, from a credible threat to the lives being defended." He pauses. "And there are even statutes against unnecessary injury to others in the course of arrest. Frankly, the legal system here is extraordinarily convoluted. Resolving guilt or innocence seems as much a matter of the monetary resources of the defendant as anything else." I huff irritably. "So what should we do?" "You obviously do not wish to antagonize the local law enforcement, and understandably so; furthermore the laws here, while barbaric and bizarre, appear to be intended operate under the novel premise of innocent until proven guilty. It is, in its own way, far more friendly to those who have been accused in error or malice, if highly inefficient. Inconvenient, of course, when dealing with the blatantly guilty, but is supposed to be applied universally to ensure fairness. Perhaps a capture beam instead?" "We'd need a destination portal, Ordis, and it's not like rendering their weapons inoperable in transit. This is like capturing a rogue Tenno; their most dangerous powers are a part of them." I think for a moment. "Perhaps we can reprogram some toxin modules to release a sedative instead of a neurotoxin." "That will take time, Operator. And you are discounting the fact that even a Mark one Furis will [b]{chunky salsa}[/b] inflict catastrophic damage on unarmored targets. The lack of delivery system that will not render a sedative pointless makes the whole premise a moot one." "What about my Ignis?" I ask. "Can we rig a module for vapor distribution in place of ignition?" "It is... [I]possible[/I]... but Operator, it would be highly impractical. You would lose a third of its range. And it would occupy a module socket; the overall efficacy of the weapon would suffer." "Because it's not like we're trying to not kill people here, huh?" I reply snidely. "As long as there's a toggle that will activate standard functionality, preferably the aerosolized azide derivatives, all will be well." Ordis responds in a voice with more surprise than I feel is justified. "Ah, good. You WERE listening when I described the Brute classification to you." "Let's get on with it," I say. I'm not sulking. "Oh, and Operator? If you wish to blend in effectively, there's one more thing." --- "And they just... patrol like this?" I ask, feeling uncomfortable with the walking pace I'm maintaining. The modified Ignis is slung across the back of my Oberon, while I scratch the ears of Ulber as he pads along obediently beside my 'frame. It's broad daylight, and my every instinct is screaming to stick to the alley or scuttle from cover to cover. Around us, people are using what Ordis says are primitive personal computers to capture image and video of Ulber and I as we walk. "Yes, Operator. The activity is seen as reassuring to the public." "I feel exposed. And ridiculous." "Operator, if you wish to cultivate a relationship with local law enforcement while simultaneously dealing with the criminal element, I've calculated this to be the optimal way." I don't reply with what immediately springs to mind, that using non lethal measures to capture criminals and subject them to incarceration of an indeterminate duration is barbaric and cruel. Much more efficient and merciful to kill the ones that need killing. But he is correct; I can't afford to make enemies out of factions I wouldn't willingly exterminate, so until I get a better feel for how to work properly without stepping on toes, I need to act like I'm one of them. It probably won't hold long, that act, but... A humanoid blip appears on my radar, approaching at the sorts of speeds you'd expect of a Volt or Nezha. I have about a second before the target arrives at melee range; my hand snaps up, pulling the Ignis from beneath my syandana, just as a figure in red with black stripes skids to a halt in front of me. He raises both hands in a gesture that appears placating. "Ordis, what's he saying?" "Translation software online." "Excuse me, ah... Sir?" the man says. His lips are visible under helmet and visor; the outfit he's wearing is skin tight, leaving little to the imagination. He looks to be in good shape, an athletic but sturdy build that brings to mind the few Orokin who obsessively sculpted their bodies through exercise, gene surgery, and nanites. "Yes, I am male," I answer slowly through Oberon. In my real body, I ask, "Ordis, is this one of the Protectors?" Ordis answers, "Protectorate, Operator. Perhaps now would be a good time to attempt to gather information on their local resources, as we discussed?" Meanwhile, my response through Oberon seems to puzzle the newcomer, before he continues, "I'm Velocity. We received a call about an unfamiliar but dangerous looking parahuman in the area; the Protectorate sent me to introduce ourselves and get a feel for your intentions." How to reply to this? "I am... for now, call me Oberon. And my intentions are to patrol, looking for those who are breaking the law, to apprehend them and turn them over to the custody of law enforcement." As I speak, I slowly return my Ignis to its original location across my back and beneath my syandana. The answer and action seem to calm him a little; he smiles and holds out a hand. I take and shake it. "Wow. Got a bit of a grip on you." He looks at Ulber. "Ah, is this your dog?" "No. Ulber is my kubrow," I answer. "Genetically related to your... dogs... but with superior smell, hearing, strength, and intellect." This answer doesn't particularly please him. "Is... it a tinkertech creation?" I shrug Oberon's shoulders. "You might call him that, though he is not. It is hard to explain. But he is completely loyal and obedient." I turn 'my' head to Ulber and make a raised fist with the thumb sideways, then open it palm upwards, fingers tilted in Velocity's direction. Ulber whuffles and trots up to the man, sitting in front of him and looking at him expectantly. "What did you do?" he asks, carefully watching Ulber, who has an amused glint in his eyes. "I indicated that you were an ally," I answer, "and to introduce himself to you. He knows hand signals so as not to give away our position in the field." Velocity nods slowly, putting his hand out with fingers curled loosely, a few inches from Ulber's snout. The kubrow sniffs the offered hand, then butts his brow against it gently. Velocity chuckles almost despite himself, and scratches between Ulber's ears. "Friendly enough." "Yes. He understands ally very well." I almost add more, but Ulber's ears snap upright, his posture following a moment later as his ears pitch and swivel, trying to pinpoint some sound. A few seconds later, I hear it too-- a whining noise like a turbine at high speeds. "Someone is coming." "That would be Armsmaster," Velocity says. "I called him in when I saw your weapon and armor." Armsmaster... that was... the Brute? No, the Tinker. Why would that necessitate calling in another hero, unless... "I see. Am I being detained?" I try to keep my tone as level as possible. "What? No, not at all." He scratches his head. "It's just standard to meet a Tinker for the first time in the company of a Protectorate Tinker. Since you weren't committing any crimes and were walking in the open, it was considered safe to approach you cautiously." "Oh. But I am not a Tinker, as you would understand it." This is the other part of our cover story, that Ordis was very meticulous about planning. But before I can continue, a vehicle turns a corner nearby, the one producing the howling turbine sound. Ulber flattens his ears back as he looks in the direction of the machine and its rider, pulling up to a stop. The rider is the first example I've seen of anyone wearing even so much as scout armor since I've arrived-- and at a glance, it's still a generous comparison. He dismounts from the vehicle, the silver trim of his armor glinting past the sky blue plating. A polearm is slung professionally across his back, and beneath his half helmet and visor, a neatly trimmed beard frames a mouth set in a slightly tense, but otherwise neutral line. He turns his head fractionally towards the red suited man next to me, and says, "Velocity. I take it first contact went well enough." Velocity nods. "Armsmaster. He seems friendly enough." As the newcomer, Armsmaster apparently, turns his head slightly downward, Ulber tenses, watching warily. "Ulber," I say, grabbing his attention, then repeating the gesture. Armsmaster's hand twitches towards his weapon but Ulber recognizes the armored man's tension, and stands, taking two relaxed steps towards Armsmaster and sitting down in front of him. Ulber's tongue lolls out of his mouth sideways as he gives an open mouthed kubrow smile. "... A well trained animal," Armsmaster says after a moment. "And intelligent enough to recognize a potential misunderstanding. I don't recognize the breed." "He's not a dog; he's a kubrow," I answer. "His name is Ulber. The species is designed for loyalty, intellect, and combat efficacy." "Designed?" Armsmaster says, in a tone that I recognize as potentially hazardous. "Is he a bioengineered animal?" "Not in the way you're thinking," I reply. "But he is made to my specifications." Armsmaster and Velocity exchange a look, before turning their attention back to me. I continue, "Right before you arrived, Velocity brought up the topic of me being a Tinker, which I am not. By the classifications you use, at least. I couldn't build the things I use the way you're thinking of. It's more organic than that." Neither of them says anything, paying close attention. I feel like I'm saying maybe a little too much. "I don't wish to go into further details, but this is no suit. It is my body. It is durable, strong, fast, and has... I believe you'd refer to them as a set of Shaker effects. My personal preference is for the regeneration aura." The bait has been thrown in and the water dyed; Ordis was very specific about how rare healing abilities are among parahumans. "A healing aura?" Armsmaster repeats back to me. There's the silhouette. "Are you willing to go into detail?" "If you like," I reply casually. "It extends out to about thirty five meters; and induces regeneration in any living creatures that I do not register as hostile." "And it's always active?" Armsmaster prods. "No, it is limited. The more people it regenerates, and the more damage it repairs, the faster it depletes itself. My energy reserves can be replenished, but not quickly enough to leave the aura active continuously. While active, it can even repair catastrophic injury, so long as it is not overwhelmed." Velocity gives a whistle; I'm not quite sure what it's supposed to mean. Armsmaster asks, "This sounds like an exceptionally useful ability. Would you consent to coming in for powers testing?" If I was spear fishing, I'd be posing for the image capture by my sentinel right now. "I can do this if you wish. When would you like me to do so?" Velocity looks at Armsmaster; the latter ignores him in favor of me. "Would now be inconvenient?" "Now would be just fine," I reply. Patrolling for Neo Not-Sees can definitely wait in favor of an inside reconnaissance of the Protectorate facilities.