Crystalized Munchkinry - Act III - Chapter 34 (Patreon)

He stepped over the last spasming criminal, absentmindedly dropping one of his remaining ConFoam grenades, and looked toward the tank. Relief flickered as he noted Dragon was finishing with the stragglers as well, so he redirected his attention toward the gang’s leaders.

They were suspiciously silent, and that bothered him. Skidmark was never quiet in their previous encounters, usually nonstop talking and cursing. Silence meant unpredictability, and unpredictability required investigation.

He was halfway to the tank when the makeshift doors snapped open, and Skidmark stepped out, grinning, a massive gun in hand. It was unmistakably tinkertech, obvious from the vacuum-sealed construction and the thick feed tube running into the vehicle.

He immediately threw one of his experimental magnetic grenades. The moment it entered the space in front of Skidmark, the familiar purplish-blue field flared and deflected it away.

He remotely deactivated it. No point wasting resources.

Skidmark laughed like a maniac, and Squealer’s laughter echoed from inside the vehicle.

“Skidmark, stand down. You are surrounded and have no means of escape,” he called out, sending a quick message to Dragon as he did. He did not expect compliance. Rational behavior had never been Skidmark’s strength.

“Fuck you, you tin-can! I’ve got an awesome gun! You’ve just got that fucking toothpick. Come at me if you dare!” the villain yelled, visibly high, frothing slightly as he threw his head back in laughter.

Then he fired the monstrous gun.

He had to leap aside as the coruscating blue projectile streaked toward him.

He landed in a roll, came up immediately, and sprinted toward the rear of the tank, aiming to exit Skidmark’s firing arc. He could hear Squealer moving on the opposite side, doing the same.

The plan remained simple: reach the tank and disable the generator with precise strikes. Dragon could have collapsed the structure with one of her suits, but they had both agreed the risk of a detonation was too high, so precision was necessary.

They could have targeted the parahumans directly, but Skidmark’s power made him more dangerous in close-range chaos than his apparent condition suggested.

He fired a few shots from his halberd while running, just enough to discourage pursuit.

A volley of debris forced him into a duck, and a final leap carried him into position behind the tank.

Reaching it, he was relieved to note that Skidmark had enough brain to stop firing, and he could hear him moving around, probably trying to get a clear shot at him.

"I'm at the engine."

"Roger. On your mark, I will jump Squealer."

No verbal reply needed. He immediately began work on the engine.

A quick review allowed him to trace a few pipes, then follow them to a junction, and so on. He was searching for a connection to the generator that would allow him to disconnect it.

Unfortunately, it was tinkertech, and more importantly, built by a drug addict. It was a grand, chaotic mess. Still, he didn’t spend time studying other tinkers’ work only to fail here.

In the time it took Skidmark to clamber down the side of the tank – rather foolishly – he identified a weak point. Severing a specific cable, based on his experience, should force the generator into idle.

"Mark on three."

Dragon sent back an acknowledgment.

"One."

He adjusted his grip on the halberd as Skidmark raised his massive gun, still conveniently ignoring the field generator.

"Two."

The villain took aim, and he prepared to evade if necessary.

"Three."

He struck.

The machine let out a strained whine. He turned toward the grinning Skidmark, gauging his next movement in case the sabotage failed.

“I got you now, asshole!” the delirious parahuman yelled and pulled the trigger.

Click.

He moved instantly. The sound of a scream behind him confirmed Dragon had engaged Squealer, while Skidmark stared dumbly at his weapon, trying to understand why it hadn’t fired.

He expected that if he wouldn't be here, the man would try to look down the barrel to see if something was clogging it.

He reached Skidmark before that could happen or before the field could be reactivated.

“I demand a rema–” was all the villain managed before an electricity-charged hand dropped him to the ground.

He watched him twitch briefly in satisfaction, then contacted Dragon.

"Skidmark down."

"Squealer down too. Excellent work with the engine."

“Thank you,” he replied, dropping his last ConFoam grenade onto one of the most unpleasant individuals he had ever encountered.

As the foam expanded, he surveyed the battlefield.

The truck was falling apart, apparently the result of Dragon’s lack of restraint. The remaining detained criminals were either unconscious or groaning in place, and Skidmark’s erratic fire had been prevented from reaching them by the drones.

The same couldn’t be said about the grounds and nearby buildings.

The ground was pockmarked with craters and detritus, some of them still faintly glowing. He already disliked the amount of cleanup this would require. Several projectiles had struck nearby warehouses as well, which were now in the process of burning and collapsing.

It took him a moment to realize Dragon had likely directed some of the incoming fire toward those structures deliberately, accelerating their demolition for future use.

Efficient.

He was mildly jealous.

He was about to ask for confirmation when his radio came alive.

“Armsmaster, come in. Armsmaster, do you copy?”

He exhaled quietly, mourning the loss of uninterrupted alone time with a competent Tinker, and replied, “This is Armsmaster. Copy, Assault.”

“Great! People were getting worried because only Dragon was responding,” Assault said in his usual upbeat tone.

He briefly considered admitting he had left his radio off to avoid unnecessary coordination during a clean engagement. That explanation would almost certainly generate more questions than it solved. He was about to open his excuse generator when a prompt appeared on his HUD.

He accepted it.

“Squealer deployed a jammer. Dragon’s upgraded systems remained unaffected.”

“Makes sense. I’m two minutes out with Puppy. Dauntless is coming in from the water, and PRT transport with firefighter support is also en route.”

“All targets are already down. Including Skidmark and Squealer.”

There was a silence on the line for a few seconds.

"…What?"

“I said Skidmark and Squealer are–” he couldn't finish before Assault interrupted him.

“I heard you the first time. I was just surprised. This is big, Armsy. You need to call the Director immediately. She needs to know.”

Before he could respond, Dragon, now walking toward him, cut in.

“Don’t worry, Assault. She already knows. I’ve been keeping her apprised.”

Her helmet retracted as she walked, revealing the smile on her face. "I even recorded it in high def!"

“Cool!” Assault replied, still far too enthusiastic given the situation. “By the way, how was your first date?”

She gave a quick laugh at Assault’s joke, mostly because of the expression Colin made. At the same time, she was coordinating drones and suits to collect the captured criminals and parahumans. She also had one of the suits shut down the massive death machine assembled from scrap.

The weapon system itself was rather fascinating, so she assigned a fork along with a small drone swarm to begin examining it.

She scanned the area again, taking in the damage to the surroundings, and sighed. It had only just been finished…

Still, she had contact information for the necessary repair crews. As Dauntless arrived and Assault and Battery moved in, she placed a call.

It rang briefly before being answered. “Hello, Danny Hebert speaking.”

“Hello, Danny,” she greeted the father of her friend.

“Dragon, what a pleasant surprise,” came the calm reply. “Are you calling because of the surprise fireworks we just saw?”

“Of course, Danny,” she said, smiling. “It seems inconsiderate individuals have damaged the ground of the loading area.”

“That’s a shame. I hope you reprimanded them. But I doubt you called just to tell me that.”

“You are correct. I require a competent work crew willing to work overtime for repairs.”

“What a surprise,” Danny replied, still perfectly calm. “The Dockworkers’ Union can handle that.”

“That’s good to hear. Would you mind sending them as soon as possible? I’ll forward the paperwork after this call.”

“Yes. Give it half an hour, and they’ll be there,” Danny said, the sound of keyboard typing audible in the background.

“Thank you. I’ll make sure the crime scene teams let them through.”

"Good luck with them."

She chuckled softly and hung up, only for another call to come in immediately. She was already fielding several dozen calls from all sorts of people, but she made sure to pay special attention to the important ones.

Like Taylor.

“Hello, you’ve reached the Dragon Hotline. If you want a signed autograph, press one. If you–” she began in her best robotic voice.

“Tess, what the hell? I just saw a video of the Merchants attacking you! Why didn’t you call me?” Taylor interrupted, sounding genuinely angry.

“Because there was no need. They are Merchants, and I had sufficient forces on hand to handle a small army. Including Armsmaster. We outnumbered them,” she explained calmly. "Do you want an autograph from him?"

“That’s not the point! What if something had happened? What if other gangs had moved in? What if it spilled over to the Union?”

“I maintain twenty-four-hour protection around the Union offices, as I told you. And thank you for your concern, but I had the situation under control.” She smiled faintly. Taylor’s worry was… pleasant. “Your presence would have only introduced unnecessary complications.”

“Ugh…” Taylor groaned. “I just hate that I can’t go out and fight people! What’s the point of these powers if I can’t use them to save people?”

She considered pointing out that Taylor had likely already saved thousands through the devices she designed, but decided against it. She knew Taylor was only complaining for the sake of it.

“I’ll come by after I organize repairs and brief the Director. Then we can sit down with your father and talk about it properly. Agreed?”

“Fiiine!” Taylor relented. “AlsopleasebringmeanautographfromArmsmaster. OK. Thanks. Bye.”

It took her a moment to parse the final sentence, then she laughed. Colin, hearing it, turned away from the PRT agent he had been speaking with.

"What's so funny?"

She grinned. “Do you still carry signed pictures with you?”

The sour expression on his face made her laugh again.

He looked at the screen and set down the headset he had been using for the operation.

He glanced away, then back again, confirming what he was seeing was real.

It was impossible.

His power had failed.

He had set up the Merchants properly. Thanks to their unusually low intelligence, it had barely required any resources. He had even ensured they would find several high-grade parts that could be used for tinkering, just to make sure their effectiveness was maximized.

He had run the scenario through Tattletale, across multiple timelines and instruction sets, and she had given it a green light. It seemed that after he solved his current issue, he would need to have a proper talk with the girl. There was no way in hell she hadn’t seen something wrong with it.

But before he could address his pet, he needed to determine why his power was not working.

When he got the notification that the Merchants had departed, he ordered his men into position to observe and, if necessary, intervene. He also used his power to split the timeline.

He watched calmly through the screen in both timelines as the Merchants approached the building, the buildup, and when he saw Armsmaster preparing to dodge, in one timeline he ordered a sniper to fire.

The shot missed.

Then the events unfolded the same way as in the unaffected timeline.

He promised himself that he would harshly punish the sniper later, but it wasn’t something that hadn’t happened before. He simply ordered another sniper to fire when an opportunity presented itself.

Making Armsmaster fail in this kind of situation would tarnish the reputation of the man – if he survived – and the PRT enough that he could advance several of his plans.

But the sniper missed.

And all the other snipers missed too.

A grenade stealthily thrown under Dragon was a dud.

An RPG was accidentally fired backward.

Nothing worked.

Everything he had prepared failed in some small way, or rather spectacularly, with one of his men even getting hit by a speeding car while trying to get into position.

It was impossible.

He watched numbly as the heroes dealt with the Merchants while wondering what had happened to his power.

In a final desperate move, he instructed all of his men to open fire on the two heroes standing in the middle of the neutralized gang.

The beating they received made him wince, but Dragon’s next action of searching their equipment and loudly telling Armsmaster that they belonged to Coil was finally enough to shut down the timeline.

He needed to figure out how Dragon was spoofing his power, because this was unacceptable.

And now the Merchants were captured.

Well, not all of them…

Maybe a breakout?

They sat together after dinner, watching a simple TV show, though both of them were really waiting for the news to come on.

When Danny came home, she gave him a quick once-over to check for injuries, then pulled him into a hug and immediately demanded everything he knew about the incident.

There were dozens of videos online, and PHO was melting down over the fact that Armsmaster and Dragon had taken out an entire gang alone (the shippers were in heaven), but nothing concrete had been said by Dragon, the Protectorate, or the PRT.

And whenever she texted Tess, the conversation was always steered toward other topics, leaving her with no real idea of what had actually happened.

Sadly, neither did her father. The moment they heard the explosion, they took shelter. All he could tell her was that Dragon had requested people for repair work afterward.

So frustrating.

Her only real chance at information since she refused to believe the internet theory that Dragon was taking over the city just to establish herself by taking out a gang was the news.

How far she has fallen…

Her father, sitting beside her, glanced at his watch and changed the channel. “Let’s see what they’re saying about it.”

She listened to the news jingle and hoped they would start with the incident.

“Welcome, people of Brockton Bay. Today, the Archer’s Bridge Merchants led an attack on the new recycling facility that Dragon has built. The Mayor’s Office announced–” started the pretty blonde on the screen.

She immediately tuned out anything unrelated to the attack and instead started thinking about designing a better entertainment system.

After a few minutes of local updates, they finally started talking about the incident.

“It seems the Archer’s Bridge Merchants, using an actual tinker-built giant tank, attacked the recently built recycling facility. Fortunately, the Protectorate leader Armsmaster was present to provide assistance. According to the PRT, the heroes suffered no injuries and successfully detained all the criminals, including the notorious leaders of the gang. The PRT will hold a press conference where they will share further details, but this network’s reporter managed to get on scene and secure an interview with the famous Dragon. Sadly, Armsmaster was unavailable to comment.”

So no additional information. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. Judging by her father’s snort, he agreed.

They still listened to the interview, where Dragon calmly repeated what had happened, again providing no new information. Though she did notice Dragon seemed to emphasize how easy it had been.

Maybe as a warning to the other gangs?

The only interesting thing happened at the end of the interview.

“…Anything else to add, Dragon?” asked the peppy reporter.

“Of course, Cathy. I would like to announce that the recycling facility will be operational in a few days, and I will also be starting a new project on behalf of Weaver Industries.”

"Oh, what kind of project?"

“Weaver Industries has hired me, due to my expertise with tinker technology, to build a factory for producing the newly revealed medi-gel. They hope to distribute it free or at cost to hospitals and those who need it, so I am happy to help.”

"That's amazing. Thank you, Dragon!"

"No problem."

“Well, people, you heard it here first…”

She tuned out the rest and looked at her father.

"Is that good?"

He seemed to consider it for a moment. “Yes. If she can maintain protection against the gangs, and Congress doesn’t mess up the medi-gel legislation, then it will be great.”

"Is that possible?" she asked, worried.

“It’s Congress,” he replied with a shrug. “I’m more curious about Weaver Industries. I wonder who they are.”

“I’ve never heard of them.”

“Me neither. I’ll ask Dragon tomorrow.”

“Cool.” She stood up and stretched. “I’m going to take a shower, then go to bed. Worrying about you tired me out.”

“Okay, honey. I still have a few emails to write, so I’ll go later.”

“Have fun,” she said as she headed upstairs.

While getting ready for a hot bath, she wondered why the name Weaver sounded so familiar.

She was sitting in the bathtub, relaxing, when it came to her.

Wasn’t that the codename Admin had offered to her?