A Jedi Knight, dragged from their death at the hands of their own soldiers, appears in the sky over Canberra on a fateful day.
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Chapter 1
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Adullahan
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Feb 24th
Ripplescale Redfeather fell through the sky buffeted by the air and the blooming terror and fear in the Force, coming far stronger than normal yet meeting their ragged mental defenses and parting around them in the Force, like they were a rock in a flood. Their left arm lacked any feathers at all, a large blaster burn prominent in the forefront of their final moments before… this. It was not the only wound they had had, but it seemed to be the only one that made the trip.
They had felt something grab them, as they died to the blaster fire of soldiers they had led for three long years as a General of the Grand Army of the Republic. Something monstrously distant in the Force had reached out of the foam of reality and grasped their soul as they died, pulling them out of communion with the Force. And then the changes began.
In a single moment that lasted forever, Ripplescale's connection to the Force was sundered and reforged stronger than ever, but bound to an alien presence, a distant thing that radiated a strange cloying affection. They had always known how to handle a hydrospanner and replace a power coupling, but in that single moment their mind burned with knowledge, an endless bonfire of the technologies of the Corsuca Galaxy, past, present and even future. And then there were the new abilities. Amidst all of this, their body turning strong as steel, their mind burning and their soul reforged, they saw a vision.
In the far distance, as they floated in the depths of space, they watched two crystalline worms undulating through a myriad of dimensions.
[IGNORANCE] blossomed a commanding Voice, laced with information and context. These two worms were ignorant savages, slash-and-burning sentient species in the search of the Answer, to eternal life. The voice considered itself above them. And it had a plan to kill them, with Ripplescale as the keystone.
The vision jumped, and Ripplescale now could see the Voice, another worm spiraling through dimensions, but leaner and alone. It was getting farther away, as they fell towards the blue-green planet. [CURIOSITY] spoke the closest worm, covering half the vision, broadcasting almost child-like feelings of glee at Ripplescale.
[DESTINATION] the farther worm said.
[AGREEMENT] the closer one said, almost absently.
The worms were going to infest this world and hundreds, thousands, millions more. Untold trillions of sentient beings would die when the worms finally turned. Something no Jedi would or could let happen willingly. And the suffering before it happened would be out of the worst exploitation vids of the underbelly of Coruscant.
It was with this knowledge in them they fell through the sky of the blue-green planet they knew was called Earth Bet in entirely different universe, let alone galaxy. They wanted to go back, to question Captain Jax why the Clones turn on them, but knew they couldn't and let the feeling go into the Force. There would be time for questions and mourning later, Ripplescale told themself. They were several thousand feet above a metropolis sitting on a wide winding river, filled with white-hot fear and black despair, vehicles fleeing on roads like tiny shiny bugs. They had their lightsaber, their general's uniform, and several new and old powers. They could feel feathers and scales eagerly drinking the sunlight, their body hardening, their reserves growing. They knew what they need to do. Where to go was the question?
A question answered by rotation of their head, their third eye catching a glimpse of figures appearing out of nowhere in a circle on top of a hill, which had what appeared to be tents set up in a somewhat military style. They focused on the hill, and found it a hive of activity, and bafflingly had the presence of sentients that appeared to fly without packs or wings, something they themself was supposed to be able to do, but had never seen before. With intent and ease, Ripplescale's falling smoothed out into a glide, before they accelerated for the encampment.
As they approached, one of the fliers headed for them, meeting them a couple hundred feet above the fast-growing camp, a woman in purple and gold jumpsuit with an iridescent wavy-cut cape and a gold helmet with a plume of white.
"Greetings," Ripplescale called out in English, the dominant trade language of the world. "I have come to assist whatever battle is at hand."
"Mauvelight. Are you new? You, uh, you look like a dinosaur. You some kind of Changer, or a Case 53?" the woman asked, as she floated, not getting closer than ten feet.
From what Ripplescale knew with the implanted knowledge of this world, and of its potential future, Case 53s were victims of a horrific crime against sentients, stripped of their lives and often forced into villainhood for the benefit of supposed heroes who purchased their powers or simply because they knew no better. They were most often plucked from other Earths, and sent to Earth Bet once the barbaric 'procedure' was finished, similar to how Ripplescale themself was plucked and changed. They would be honored to be considered one, but that was not who they were.
"Neither. I am Ripplescale Redfeather, an honorable Jedi Knight of the Galactic Republic. Of course, I suppose that will be hard to believe without proof."
She snorted good-naturedly, amusement bubbling, clearly not believing them. "Okay, Changer it is. Is this your first Endbringer battle?"
"Yes, I am unfamiliar with any procedures."
"When you land, grab an armband. The Sidekicks will be handing them out, carrying boxes. From there, they'll direct you where you need to go."
"Thank you. I hope to see you again when this finishes. May the Force be with you." With a gentle hand motion, they smoothed the whirling eddies of uncertainty and doubt, and strengthened the resolve of Mauvelight.
She nodded, a bubble of humor in her voice, "And also with you, Jedi Knight." She giggled. "I needed that. See you on the other side."
A brightly colored young man with fear in his heart gave them a wristband, a sleek thing that held a screen with a map of the city, and a couple simple buttons.
"Press the red for override, the green to send a message, and both for a hard override that will address every wristband. And-and when you put it on, press the green button and give your cape name."
A cape name. A name for which ones with power are known by, to hide behind. There would be no hiding for a Jedi Knight, no skulking. And their form wouldn't let them, even if they wanted to. They pressed the button and said, "Knight Ripplescale."
"Name 'Knight Ripplescale' confirmed," the wristband said in a soft, feminine voice.
"N-now," the boy said, trying to not stare at their long, serrated teeth, "the Capes are gathering further down. F-from there you'll be given directions."
They followed the other 'capes'—a misnomer given the dearth of actual capes—down the hill, where nearly a hundred had gathered, and more were coming. Floating above, in the center of the crowd, were three people. In the first they saw a strong hero's heart. He wore a blue jumpsuit with grey flames, and blue and grey halfmask, his blond hair and hearty smile visible. In the second, a worn and pitted thing, black and shriveled. She wore a black and grey costume with a skirt, knee-high boots and elbow-length gloves with a wide, heavy cape that flowed over her shoulders and draped onto the ground beside and behind her, and a steel helm like a Spartan helmet, with her hair spilling out behind her. The third, a thick and bitter rind of jealousy and inadequacy over a hero's heart. He wore a green-white skintight suit, with a heavy hood and cape built in and sleeves that draped over his hands. The interior of his hood and sleeves were filled with a soft green light, and he wore an opaque glassy helm that glowed blue-green, his eyes barely visible.
The Triumvirate. Legend, Alexandria, and Eidolon. Two were redeemable. The third… They had to remind themself that one can always come back to the Light, and even the Darkest of people had some Light in them. Still, they knew only the barest breadth of the crimes committed by Alexandria and that was enough to condem her for life. Legend was in the middle of a speech as they approached through the crowd, humans having always been particularly tense with sharing their space. It seems that didn't change in a new universe.
Legend spoke of hope, of change, and chances. "This is the earliest we've known of an Endbringer's arrival, ever. We have had an unprecedented thirty minutes to prepare, and if the Simurgh—" At that word a ripple of fear and terror goes through the crowd, and Ripplescale casually calms it with the immense power of the Force flowing through them. "—continues her current pace, we expect another half hour longer."
He continued on, explaining how the battle would be fought, having previous attenders raise hands so capes would know who to follow in the heat of battle. They would be divided in to groups based on ability and desire, and staggered, so that not too many capes would be off cycle, resting and counting down the minutes until they had to go back in. It seemed all very… amateurish, and likely to fall apart in the chaos. From what they knew of the future, that's often what happened. If they had been a little more militant, a little more focused, could Earth Bet have already killed one? Perhaps. And perhaps one would die today, by a Jedi Knight's hand. One could hope.
It was as the speech was ending that Alexandria locked eyes with Ripplescale. They stared at each other for maybe half a minute, their three eyes on hers. A myriad of emotions went through the woman, faint like they came from great distance, ending in cautious curiosity, before she broke their gaze.
"All Brutes and frontline fighters, gather around Alexandria, all Blasters and ranged fighters with me. Search and Rescue with Prism, here," Legend said, pointing to a young blonde woman in a shining dress.
With the sun shining on Ripplescale, their feathers rippling in the wind, their daggerclaws clicking rhythmically, they made their way to Alexandria, their lightsaber in their good hand. Once more the crowd parted around them, leaving them space for their tail lash slightly, the only hint of any nervousness in their tightly controlled form.
"Fliers are with me, form groups of four. These will be your flight groups. Dinosaur, you're with me," she said, pointing to them. "Land based, gather around Kingcobra. He'll be your lead for this battle."
They approached Alexandria, gently lifting off the ground, secretly delighting in flight. "My name is Knight Ripplescale, Alexandria."
"Ripplescale, then. I wanted to ask you some questions. Do you have any memory issues, any amnesia?"
"No, I am no Case 53. You are not the first to ask."
"Then you are a Changer," she said, feeling of faint relief.
"No, I am no Changer. I was born this way, and the Force willing, I will die this way. I am a Sauraptorian."
Something seemed to click in her eyes, and she dismissed whatever curiosity she had. "I understand. What are your powers?"
"I am powered by the sun, with flesh of steel, speed, flight and beams of light. I have telekinesis, precognition and enhanced reaction times, and most importantly, a sword that can cut through almost anything. I am a veteran martial artist with decades of rigorous training."
Alexandria nodded. "I suspect one thing it will not cut through is an Endbringer, but we shall see."
"The Force is with me, today. Perhaps it shall be with us all, and we shall kill the Simurgh."
She only nodded, and then made her way through the crowd, picking two other capes, a brute of a human named Olympic, and a slight woman in a black and white costume named Permanence. Both seemed awed to be chosen, with kernels of fear.
They could literally feel themselves getting stronger the longer they stood in direct sunlight. Not strong enough, but stronger, and it synergized with the Force, deepening and widening the river that rushed through him by little bits. If only the miasma of fear and despair and hopelessness didn't fill the air. They would have enjoyed their first couple hours on Earth Bet sunbathing and contemplating their place.
Instead, they flew to meet a strange figure that fell from the sky sedately, human-like if a giant, fifteen feet tall, naked and covering her modesty with wings. Alexandria and her team, would be the first to engage, starting an aerial battle before the Endbringer lands, with the Blasters setting up at the calculated landing spot, and those who can taking potshots at the Simurgh. The next Brutes would come in a half a minute later, and the next half a minute after them, and so on, until it would be time for Alexandria's group to rotate out, back to the tents for decompression from the Song.
Speaking of which, the Force rippled as the Simurgh began to sing when they got close enough, her mouth opening despite no audible sound. They could feel a pressure trying to worm it way into their minds, but their defenses, natural and new, blocked it out. Silence filled their mind, and their heart beat a little easier, knowing they were unaffected by such a terrifying thing. To either side of them, Permanence and Olympic winced, before shaking their heads and pushing a little faster. Alexandria had no reaction.
And then the battle engaged, as Alexandria accelerated and slammed into the Endbringer like a rocket, cracking skin and sending a spray of black ichor. Next Olympic took a wing and wrenched, tearing feathers, while Permanence grappled a leg and squeezed with her whole body, the leg beginning to decay. And Knight Ripplescale of the Grand Army of the Republic, waited.
Another wing swung and batted Olympic off at speed, while her other leg lifted and twisted, to push off Permanence with the side of her foot. And that was when Ripplescale made their move. Lunging forward, their blue lightsaber igniting only moment before it connected and sheared through the leg in a diagonal cut at the calf. The Simurgh left foot went tumbling down, smoking heavily, and the lightsaber felt hot in their hand, like they had pushed it near its limit.
The Simurgh reacted a moment later, the psychic pressure she exuded increasing, and she flailed, grabbing Alexandria as she came rocketing by, and swinging her down where Ripplescale had been just moments ago, sending Alexandria into the ground. But not where they were now. Could this being not see them? Were they one of these so-called 'blindspots?'
More Brutes piled on as the Simurgh got closer, causing cracks and bruises on the surface of the perfect skin, but not doing much more. Twice more there was a chance to detach an errant limb, and Ripplescale darted into the crush, letting the Force guide their blow. Half a wing and a hand detached, smoking, the lightsaber now dangerously hot.
They put it away, and leapt onto an empty space on the creatures back, tearing small furrows and cracks with their steel daggerclaws, holding on with their hands, even biting the creature's neck. She tasted like salt and rock and metal and their teeth only made the barest of scratches.
Then Alexandria was yelling, "All off. Blasters ready!" and they immediately fled, a warning in the Force screaming to move. Searing light in a rainbow of colors pounded the Endbringer, sloughing of flesh and feathers, as she defended her torso. The psychic pressure was slowly building. Buildings tore themselves apart, rising to block and defend the Simurgh, moving in a frantic fashion, as beams tore through them or she didn't move quickly enough. For over a minute, Ripplescale watched as defenses slowly grew, and the great bombardment slowly stopped doing damage.
What hope had been building plummeted, when the Blasters finished and the Simurgh still stood strong. Then the death began. What had been a defensive measure was suddenly offensive, as debris raced out in the momentary pause and smeared cape parts over Canberra. The Blasters broke, quickly fleeing the rain of debris, only to pause when a huge green energy shield appeared defending their retreat.
The armband broadcast endless injuries and deaths, helping no one.
"This ends today, foul mockery!" cried out Eidolon, from where he flew, his voice somehow carrying. With a hand, he swept a horrid-looking yellow beam that caused the debris shield to melt like acid, before it splashed against the Simurgh. Alexandria, meanwhile lead a renewed charge on the Endbringer, bringing the land-based Brutes with her, as they were injured, and died from errant blaster blasts that had started up again, and debris from the battle.
Permanence was with them, watching from the side, slightly shaking. Ripplescale put a hand on her shoulder and she tensed.
"The Force is with us today. Trust and hope, Permanence."
She nodded and stood straighter. "With that damn sword of yours, maybe so."
It still sat hot in its holster, slowly ticking as it cooled down.
"It will not be a single person who brings down such a beast, but a group, together. A lone hunter dies, but the pack survives."
While they spoke, death granted a reprieve to a half-dozen souls, and then their timers were going off. Olympic did not return with them.
For a long fifteen minutes the two sat in a tent listening to soothing music that muffled the sound of fighting in the distance, as more and more Brute and Blaster teams returned from the fray, missing teammates, some bearing minor injuries that didn't need the attention of the medical tents. Then Alexandria entered and the mood lifted briefly at the sight of her.
"Knight Ripplescale and Permanence, it's time."
As she lead us into the air, they could see the fight had moved more than a couple city blocks, to some sort of sprawling campus on the river. One of the buildings had its roof peeled like a can, and debris rained up into the air, into something that warbled danger in the Force. A growing danger that must be stopped.
"She has begun to build some sort of device. It must be destroyed. The Smirugh has trouble with other precognitives, and she seemed to have trouble with you, Ripplescale. If I distract her, could you destroy it?"
They nodded and gave a hiss of affirmation. "It radiates danger in the Force. I will deal with it as swiftly as one deals with a CIS superweapon and prepare for it to explode in the aftermath."
There was a distant sense of bemusement from Alexandria, and confusion from Permanence.
"You know the Force isn't real, right? It's made up."
They gave her a closelipped grin. Humans never understood their actual smile. "You have much to learn, young one. Let this elder show you that the Force is very real, and with us."
The battle raged when they arrived, a desperate struggle that seemed to be futile against the deft telekinesis and precognition of the Simurgh. She stood amidst clear air, seemingly singing with her eyes closed. One hand was missing, and her left leg beneath the knee, cracks and bruises covered her, and her shoulder was melted and warped, revealing perfect black bone. Three of the nine wings were completely gone, and of the six only one remained undamaged, her smallest. Yet she stood in the air without a care for the world.
It made them sick.
With resolve, while Alexandria battled the Simurgh, and Permanence followed her, looking for an in, Ripplescale Redfeather, Jedi Knight, sat atop a roof overlooking the battlefield and meditated. What they were attempting to do was something only Knight Skywalker could reasonably do with his ridiculous strength, but with their Solar reserves and their new, deeper connection to the Force, and a little luck, perhaps they could pull it off.
Deaths and injuries cycled from the armband, but they paid little attention to it.
Cycling their breathing, and letting go of all the little emotions, the despair, the fear, the worry, the disgust, into the Force, they reached out and pulled. They could feel, through the swirling cloud of debris and unfortunate humans caught in the crossfire, the object that screamed danger in the Force. It was a slowly growing sphere of material, building itself in the air like some mad scientists daydream. What would happen if they just went and squeezed it? At the errant thought, there was no sense of danger, so they went and followed through. It was surprisingly easy.
Immediately the sphere destabilized, wobbling and breaking apart with a squeal of tearing metal and the shatter of crystal, and the Simurgh turned and looked at them. The building they were on exploded, sending them tumbling through the air, before they corrected themselves, contorting their body to dodge debris as the Force warned them again and again. Still, it wasn't enough as speeding rebar launched itself against their skull, sending them stumbling through the air, their head ringing. Something else crashed against them, cracking ribs, and they let go of flight, slamming into the grass outside a campus building, and scampering for cover, as the Force warned against another dangerous series of attacks. They crashed through a window into a building, only for the building to began to shake.
The armband squealed about mass casualties.
A growing sense of danger had them fleeing through a cafeteria and down a hallway, headed south and out a set of double doors, their claws clicking on the linoleum floors, as dust fell and the building groaned. The door led to an empty street with abandoned cars; the air filled the sound of crackling beams of fire, and laser discharge and the thud and whistle of heavy objects flying.
They did not slow, knowing they risked death if they stayed in one place. But the Simurgh would expect them to flee, to run scared like a rat. It was how these creatures worked, on terror and fear. Well, Ripplescale already died once, and it wasn't so bad before they were stolen away. If they die here, killing the Simurgh, it would be a good death. So they arced themselves back around towards the Angel, taking to the air, as the building they were just in fell on itself.
A rictus frown marked the Simurgh's face, as she lashed out in swathes of telekinetic destructions, while Blasters and Brutes put up a desperate struggle. For over a minute Knight Ripplescale watched, waiting, every second, every injury, every needless death weighing on them, but the Force said hold, and so the Jedi Knight held.
A single slice through the undamaged wing, flared out for only a few moments. Something ground against the blade, causing the handle to heat exponentially. There was the briefest sense of give, of tearing through, and then the lightsaber exploded, incinerating Ripplescale's hand and blasting them off the Endbringer.
By the time they recover, the cheering had started.
Ripplescale Redfeather fell through the sky buffeted by the air and the blooming terror and fear in the Force, coming far stronger than normal yet meeting their ragged mental defenses and parting around them in the Force, like they were a rock in a flood. Their left arm lacked any feathers at all, a large blaster burn prominent in the forefront of their final moments before… this. It was not the only wound they had had, but it seemed to be the only one that made the trip.
They had felt something grab them, as they died to the blaster fire of soldiers they had led for three long years as a General of the Grand Army of the Republic. Something monstrously distant in the Force had reached out of the foam of reality and grasped their soul as they died, pulling them out of communion with the Force. And then the changes began.
In a single moment that lasted forever, Ripplescale's connection to the Force was sundered and reforged stronger than ever, but bound to an alien presence, a distant thing that radiated a strange cloying affection. They had always known how to handle a hydrospanner and replace a power coupling, but in that single moment their mind burned with knowledge, an endless bonfire of the technologies of the Corsuca Galaxy, past, present and even future. And then there were the new abilities. Amidst all of this, their body turning strong as steel, their mind burning and their soul reforged, they saw a vision.
In the far distance, as they floated in the depths of space, they watched two crystalline worms undulating through a myriad of dimensions.
[IGNORANCE] blossomed a commanding Voice, laced with information and context. These two worms were ignorant savages, slash-and-burning sentient species in the search of the Answer, to eternal life. The voice considered itself above them. And it had a plan to kill them, with Ripplescale as the keystone.
The vision jumped, and Ripplescale now could see the Voice, another worm spiraling through dimensions, but leaner and alone. It was getting farther away, as they fell towards the blue-green planet. [CURIOSITY] spoke the closest worm, covering half the vision, broadcasting almost child-like feelings of glee at Ripplescale.
[DESTINATION] the farther worm said.
[AGREEMENT] the closer one said, almost absently.
The worms were going to infest this world and hundreds, thousands, millions more. Untold trillions of sentient beings would die when the worms finally turned. Something no Jedi would or could let happen willingly. And the suffering before it happened would be out of the worst exploitation vids of the underbelly of Coruscant.
It was with this knowledge in them they fell through the sky of the blue-green planet they knew was called Earth Bet in entirely different universe, let alone galaxy. They wanted to go back, to question Captain Jax why the Clones turn on them, but knew they couldn't and let the feeling go into the Force. There would be time for questions and mourning later, Ripplescale told themself. They were several thousand feet above a metropolis sitting on a wide winding river, filled with white-hot fear and black despair, vehicles fleeing on roads like tiny shiny bugs. They had their lightsaber, their general's uniform, and several new and old powers. They could feel feathers and scales eagerly drinking the sunlight, their body hardening, their reserves growing. They knew what they need to do. Where to go was the question?
A question answered by rotation of their head, their third eye catching a glimpse of figures appearing out of nowhere in a circle on top of a hill, which had what appeared to be tents set up in a somewhat military style. They focused on the hill, and found it a hive of activity, and bafflingly had the presence of sentients that appeared to fly without packs or wings, something they themself was supposed to be able to do, but had never seen before. With intent and ease, Ripplescale's falling smoothed out into a glide, before they accelerated for the encampment.
As they approached, one of the fliers headed for them, meeting them a couple hundred feet above the fast-growing camp, a woman in purple and gold jumpsuit with an iridescent wavy-cut cape and a gold helmet with a plume of white.
"Greetings," Ripplescale called out in English, the dominant trade language of the world. "I have come to assist whatever battle is at hand."
"Mauvelight. Are you new? You, uh, you look like a dinosaur. You some kind of Changer, or a Case 53?" the woman asked, as she floated, not getting closer than ten feet.
From what Ripplescale knew with the implanted knowledge of this world, and of its potential future, Case 53s were victims of a horrific crime against sentients, stripped of their lives and often forced into villainhood for the benefit of supposed heroes who purchased their powers or simply because they knew no better. They were most often plucked from other Earths, and sent to Earth Bet once the barbaric 'procedure' was finished, similar to how Ripplescale themself was plucked and changed. They would be honored to be considered one, but that was not who they were.
"Neither. I am Ripplescale Redfeather, an honorable Jedi Knight of the Galactic Republic. Of course, I suppose that will be hard to believe without proof."
She snorted good-naturedly, amusement bubbling, clearly not believing them. "Okay, Changer it is. Is this your first Endbringer battle?"
"Yes, I am unfamiliar with any procedures."
"When you land, grab an armband. The Sidekicks will be handing them out, carrying boxes. From there, they'll direct you where you need to go."
"Thank you. I hope to see you again when this finishes. May the Force be with you." With a gentle hand motion, they smoothed the whirling eddies of uncertainty and doubt, and strengthened the resolve of Mauvelight.
She nodded, a bubble of humor in her voice, "And also with you, Jedi Knight." She giggled. "I needed that. See you on the other side."
A brightly colored young man with fear in his heart gave them a wristband, a sleek thing that held a screen with a map of the city, and a couple simple buttons.
"Press the red for override, the green to send a message, and both for a hard override that will address every wristband. And-and when you put it on, press the green button and give your cape name."
A cape name. A name for which ones with power are known by, to hide behind. There would be no hiding for a Jedi Knight, no skulking. And their form wouldn't let them, even if they wanted to. They pressed the button and said, "Knight Ripplescale."
"Name 'Knight Ripplescale' confirmed," the wristband said in a soft, feminine voice.
"N-now," the boy said, trying to not stare at their long, serrated teeth, "the Capes are gathering further down. F-from there you'll be given directions."
They followed the other 'capes'—a misnomer given the dearth of actual capes—down the hill, where nearly a hundred had gathered, and more were coming. Floating above, in the center of the crowd, were three people. In the first they saw a strong hero's heart. He wore a blue jumpsuit with grey flames, and blue and grey halfmask, his blond hair and hearty smile visible. In the second, a worn and pitted thing, black and shriveled. She wore a black and grey costume with a skirt, knee-high boots and elbow-length gloves with a wide, heavy cape that flowed over her shoulders and draped onto the ground beside and behind her, and a steel helm like a Spartan helmet, with her hair spilling out behind her. The third, a thick and bitter rind of jealousy and inadequacy over a hero's heart. He wore a green-white skintight suit, with a heavy hood and cape built in and sleeves that draped over his hands. The interior of his hood and sleeves were filled with a soft green light, and he wore an opaque glassy helm that glowed blue-green, his eyes barely visible.
The Triumvirate. Legend, Alexandria, and Eidolon. Two were redeemable. The third… They had to remind themself that one can always come back to the Light, and even the Darkest of people had some Light in them. Still, they knew only the barest breadth of the crimes committed by Alexandria and that was enough to condem her for life. Legend was in the middle of a speech as they approached through the crowd, humans having always been particularly tense with sharing their space. It seems that didn't change in a new universe.
Legend spoke of hope, of change, and chances. "This is the earliest we've known of an Endbringer's arrival, ever. We have had an unprecedented thirty minutes to prepare, and if the Simurgh—" At that word a ripple of fear and terror goes through the crowd, and Ripplescale casually calms it with the immense power of the Force flowing through them. "—continues her current pace, we expect another half hour longer."
He continued on, explaining how the battle would be fought, having previous attenders raise hands so capes would know who to follow in the heat of battle. They would be divided in to groups based on ability and desire, and staggered, so that not too many capes would be off cycle, resting and counting down the minutes until they had to go back in. It seemed all very… amateurish, and likely to fall apart in the chaos. From what they knew of the future, that's often what happened. If they had been a little more militant, a little more focused, could Earth Bet have already killed one? Perhaps. And perhaps one would die today, by a Jedi Knight's hand. One could hope.
It was as the speech was ending that Alexandria locked eyes with Ripplescale. They stared at each other for maybe half a minute, their three eyes on hers. A myriad of emotions went through the woman, faint like they came from great distance, ending in cautious curiosity, before she broke their gaze.
"All Brutes and frontline fighters, gather around Alexandria, all Blasters and ranged fighters with me. Search and Rescue with Prism, here," Legend said, pointing to a young blonde woman in a shining dress.
With the sun shining on Ripplescale, their feathers rippling in the wind, their daggerclaws clicking rhythmically, they made their way to Alexandria, their lightsaber in their good hand. Once more the crowd parted around them, leaving them space for their tail lash slightly, the only hint of any nervousness in their tightly controlled form.
"Fliers are with me, form groups of four. These will be your flight groups. Dinosaur, you're with me," she said, pointing to them. "Land based, gather around Kingcobra. He'll be your lead for this battle."
They approached Alexandria, gently lifting off the ground, secretly delighting in flight. "My name is Knight Ripplescale, Alexandria."
"Ripplescale, then. I wanted to ask you some questions. Do you have any memory issues, any amnesia?"
"No, I am no Case 53. You are not the first to ask."
"Then you are a Changer," she said, feeling of faint relief.
"No, I am no Changer. I was born this way, and the Force willing, I will die this way. I am a Sauraptorian."
Something seemed to click in her eyes, and she dismissed whatever curiosity she had. "I understand. What are your powers?"
"I am powered by the sun, with flesh of steel, speed, flight and beams of light. I have telekinesis, precognition and enhanced reaction times, and most importantly, a sword that can cut through almost anything. I am a veteran martial artist with decades of rigorous training."
Alexandria nodded. "I suspect one thing it will not cut through is an Endbringer, but we shall see."
"The Force is with me, today. Perhaps it shall be with us all, and we shall kill the Simurgh."
She only nodded, and then made her way through the crowd, picking two other capes, a brute of a human named Olympic, and a slight woman in a black and white costume named Permanence. Both seemed awed to be chosen, with kernels of fear.
They could literally feel themselves getting stronger the longer they stood in direct sunlight. Not strong enough, but stronger, and it synergized with the Force, deepening and widening the river that rushed through him by little bits. If only the miasma of fear and despair and hopelessness didn't fill the air. They would have enjoyed their first couple hours on Earth Bet sunbathing and contemplating their place.
Instead, they flew to meet a strange figure that fell from the sky sedately, human-like if a giant, fifteen feet tall, naked and covering her modesty with wings. Alexandria and her team, would be the first to engage, starting an aerial battle before the Endbringer lands, with the Blasters setting up at the calculated landing spot, and those who can taking potshots at the Simurgh. The next Brutes would come in a half a minute later, and the next half a minute after them, and so on, until it would be time for Alexandria's group to rotate out, back to the tents for decompression from the Song.
Speaking of which, the Force rippled as the Simurgh began to sing when they got close enough, her mouth opening despite no audible sound. They could feel a pressure trying to worm it way into their minds, but their defenses, natural and new, blocked it out. Silence filled their mind, and their heart beat a little easier, knowing they were unaffected by such a terrifying thing. To either side of them, Permanence and Olympic winced, before shaking their heads and pushing a little faster. Alexandria had no reaction.
And then the battle engaged, as Alexandria accelerated and slammed into the Endbringer like a rocket, cracking skin and sending a spray of black ichor. Next Olympic took a wing and wrenched, tearing feathers, while Permanence grappled a leg and squeezed with her whole body, the leg beginning to decay. And Knight Ripplescale of the Grand Army of the Republic, waited.
Another wing swung and batted Olympic off at speed, while her other leg lifted and twisted, to push off Permanence with the side of her foot. And that was when Ripplescale made their move. Lunging forward, their blue lightsaber igniting only moment before it connected and sheared through the leg in a diagonal cut at the calf. The Simurgh left foot went tumbling down, smoking heavily, and the lightsaber felt hot in their hand, like they had pushed it near its limit.
The Simurgh reacted a moment later, the psychic pressure she exuded increasing, and she flailed, grabbing Alexandria as she came rocketing by, and swinging her down where Ripplescale had been just moments ago, sending Alexandria into the ground. But not where they were now. Could this being not see them? Were they one of these so-called 'blindspots?'
More Brutes piled on as the Simurgh got closer, causing cracks and bruises on the surface of the perfect skin, but not doing much more. Twice more there was a chance to detach an errant limb, and Ripplescale darted into the crush, letting the Force guide their blow. Half a wing and a hand detached, smoking, the lightsaber now dangerously hot.
They put it away, and leapt onto an empty space on the creatures back, tearing small furrows and cracks with their steel daggerclaws, holding on with their hands, even biting the creature's neck. She tasted like salt and rock and metal and their teeth only made the barest of scratches.
Then Alexandria was yelling, "All off. Blasters ready!" and they immediately fled, a warning in the Force screaming to move. Searing light in a rainbow of colors pounded the Endbringer, sloughing of flesh and feathers, as she defended her torso. The psychic pressure was slowly building. Buildings tore themselves apart, rising to block and defend the Simurgh, moving in a frantic fashion, as beams tore through them or she didn't move quickly enough. For over a minute, Ripplescale watched as defenses slowly grew, and the great bombardment slowly stopped doing damage.
What hope had been building plummeted, when the Blasters finished and the Simurgh still stood strong. Then the death began. What had been a defensive measure was suddenly offensive, as debris raced out in the momentary pause and smeared cape parts over Canberra. The Blasters broke, quickly fleeing the rain of debris, only to pause when a huge green energy shield appeared defending their retreat.
The armband broadcast endless injuries and deaths, helping no one.
"This ends today, foul mockery!" cried out Eidolon, from where he flew, his voice somehow carrying. With a hand, he swept a horrid-looking yellow beam that caused the debris shield to melt like acid, before it splashed against the Simurgh. Alexandria, meanwhile lead a renewed charge on the Endbringer, bringing the land-based Brutes with her, as they were injured, and died from errant blaster blasts that had started up again, and debris from the battle.
Permanence was with them, watching from the side, slightly shaking. Ripplescale put a hand on her shoulder and she tensed.
"The Force is with us today. Trust and hope, Permanence."
She nodded and stood straighter. "With that damn sword of yours, maybe so."
It still sat hot in its holster, slowly ticking as it cooled down.
"It will not be a single person who brings down such a beast, but a group, together. A lone hunter dies, but the pack survives."
While they spoke, death granted a reprieve to a half-dozen souls, and then their timers were going off. Olympic did not return with them.
For a long fifteen minutes the two sat in a tent listening to soothing music that muffled the sound of fighting in the distance, as more and more Brute and Blaster teams returned from the fray, missing teammates, some bearing minor injuries that didn't need the attention of the medical tents. Then Alexandria entered and the mood lifted briefly at the sight of her.
"Knight Ripplescale and Permanence, it's time."
As she lead us into the air, they could see the fight had moved more than a couple city blocks, to some sort of sprawling campus on the river. One of the buildings had its roof peeled like a can, and debris rained up into the air, into something that warbled danger in the Force. A growing danger that must be stopped.
"She has begun to build some sort of device. It must be destroyed. The Smirugh has trouble with other precognitives, and she seemed to have trouble with you, Ripplescale. If I distract her, could you destroy it?"
They nodded and gave a hiss of affirmation. "It radiates danger in the Force. I will deal with it as swiftly as one deals with a CIS superweapon and prepare for it to explode in the aftermath."
There was a distant sense of bemusement from Alexandria, and confusion from Permanence.
"You know the Force isn't real, right? It's made up."
They gave her a closelipped grin. Humans never understood their actual smile. "You have much to learn, young one. Let this elder show you that the Force is very real, and with us."
The battle raged when they arrived, a desperate struggle that seemed to be futile against the deft telekinesis and precognition of the Simurgh. She stood amidst clear air, seemingly singing with her eyes closed. One hand was missing, and her left leg beneath the knee, cracks and bruises covered her, and her shoulder was melted and warped, revealing perfect black bone. Three of the nine wings were completely gone, and of the six only one remained undamaged, her smallest. Yet she stood in the air without a care for the world.
It made them sick.
With resolve, while Alexandria battled the Simurgh, and Permanence followed her, looking for an in, Ripplescale Redfeather, Jedi Knight, sat atop a roof overlooking the battlefield and meditated. What they were attempting to do was something only Knight Skywalker could reasonably do with his ridiculous strength, but with their Solar reserves and their new, deeper connection to the Force, and a little luck, perhaps they could pull it off.
Deaths and injuries cycled from the armband, but they paid little attention to it.
Cycling their breathing, and letting go of all the little emotions, the despair, the fear, the worry, the disgust, into the Force, they reached out and pulled. They could feel, through the swirling cloud of debris and unfortunate humans caught in the crossfire, the object that screamed danger in the Force. It was a slowly growing sphere of material, building itself in the air like some mad scientists daydream. What would happen if they just went and squeezed it? At the errant thought, there was no sense of danger, so they went and followed through. It was surprisingly easy.
Immediately the sphere destabilized, wobbling and breaking apart with a squeal of tearing metal and the shatter of crystal, and the Simurgh turned and looked at them. The building they were on exploded, sending them tumbling through the air, before they corrected themselves, contorting their body to dodge debris as the Force warned them again and again. Still, it wasn't enough as speeding rebar launched itself against their skull, sending them stumbling through the air, their head ringing. Something else crashed against them, cracking ribs, and they let go of flight, slamming into the grass outside a campus building, and scampering for cover, as the Force warned against another dangerous series of attacks. They crashed through a window into a building, only for the building to began to shake.
The armband squealed about mass casualties.
A growing sense of danger had them fleeing through a cafeteria and down a hallway, headed south and out a set of double doors, their claws clicking on the linoleum floors, as dust fell and the building groaned. The door led to an empty street with abandoned cars; the air filled the sound of crackling beams of fire, and laser discharge and the thud and whistle of heavy objects flying.
They did not slow, knowing they risked death if they stayed in one place. But the Simurgh would expect them to flee, to run scared like a rat. It was how these creatures worked, on terror and fear. Well, Ripplescale already died once, and it wasn't so bad before they were stolen away. If they die here, killing the Simurgh, it would be a good death. So they arced themselves back around towards the Angel, taking to the air, as the building they were just in fell on itself.
A rictus frown marked the Simurgh's face, as she lashed out in swathes of telekinetic destructions, while Blasters and Brutes put up a desperate struggle. For over a minute Knight Ripplescale watched, waiting, every second, every injury, every needless death weighing on them, but the Force said hold, and so the Jedi Knight held.
A single slice through the undamaged wing, flared out for only a few moments. Something ground against the blade, causing the handle to heat exponentially. There was the briefest sense of give, of tearing through, and then the lightsaber exploded, incinerating Ripplescale's hand and blasting them off the Endbringer.
By the time they recover, the cheering had started.
Chapter 2
New
Adullahan
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Alexandria reached them first and extended a hand. Ripplescale reached out their aching right arm, staring blankly at the missing hand. Perhaps losing a hand was something that powerful Jedi did, they thought in a pained delirium, and barked a laugh, before reached out with their wounded left. To her credit, Alexandria was gentle as she lifted them out of the crater they had made. One of their legs was definitely broken, as it couldn't bear their weight without a pain that would have been blinding without the Force they drank deeply of.
"A healing trance, and a dunk in a bacta tank, and I shall be fine," they reassured the corrupt hero, before realizing they had spoken in the sibilant hisses and whistles of Sauryx at the cape's abject confusion. They barked another laugh as they hovered over the edge of the crater. "I said, a healing trance and a dunk in a bacta tank and I shall be fine. I must have taken quite the hit. The battle is over, yes?"
She looked at them strangely. "Yes. And there's no such thing as bacta."
It hit them again, how far away they were from the Corsuca Galaxy. These humans didn't have bacta, or hyperdrives or even a unified planetary government, for the Light's sake! At that moment, an idea floated to the forefront of their brain. They may not have bacta, but they do have Panacea. "That cape, Panacea then. She can reconstruct limbs, can she not?" They tried not to sound too desperate.
"You know of her. Your biology may… cause some issues, but I'm certain she'll do what she can."
The Endbringer lay slumped on the ground, a huge chunk taken out of her where her smallest wing had been. Ichor pooled and bubbled around her, as capes cheered, hugging with weary but hopeful hearts. They could feel in the Force as the news spread, the miasma of fear and despair not enough to hide the brimming dawn of hope and joy. It made up, a little, for losing his longest-held blade, made when he was only a year into Knighthood. A Jedi without a lightsaber was still a Jedi. They knew that, but the loss keened, a twin to the loss of his hand.
At least the cause was dead.
"Let us make our way to the camp. I have no desire to linger," they said, not caring if they were being rude.
Alexandria nodded, and they followed.
Camp was a scene of controlled chaos that boiled over at the arrival of Alexandria.
Cries of "Is it true?" and "Is that him?" followed us as she ignored them, gliding resolutely to the medical tents. She went to the third one, open the door and stepping in to reveal a young woman in red and white robes, a miasma of depression, anxiety and fear enveloping her even as she worked, injuries reversing and disappearing on the cape she touched.
"Panacea, I have a case for you, when you are finished with the red tags."
She looked up, frowning turning into startlement as she caught sight of Ripplescale. "A Case 53?"
"You could say that. This is Knight Ripplescale. He has been instrumental in the death of the Simurgh, and lost a hand in the final moments. If you could regrow it, like you would a Case 53, I would appreciate it greatly."
"They," they said. "I am not male or female, as humans would understand it."
Panacea snorted. "If you're not human, then what are you? A dinosaur?"
"I am Ripplescale Redfeather, a Sauraptorian, of Sauryxia. A Jedi Knight of the Coruscant Temple. A General of the Grand Army of the Republic. Of course, none of those things mean anything in this galaxy."
Alexandria stared at them, and they could almost see her bemusement with how strong it was.
"Oh, you're a Jedi, huh? Yeah right. Read my mind," the healer said sarcastically.
She was thinking of her sister's hair. "Your sister's hair. You've heard of Jedi?"
She blushed, and said, "I was not! I was thinking the number three. Everyone's heard of Jedi, doofus. It just they aren't real."
"There is no need for falsehoods. Your sister's hair is quite beautiful, as far as humans consider such aesthetics. Why would they not be real?"
"Lift up that table, if you're a Jedi." They did easily, causing the objects on top it to rise into the air and began slowly circling.
"Parlor tricks for a Jedi," they said, amused at the wide eyes the display made.
"Well, if you're really a Jedi, where's your lightsaber."
Immediately their mood dimmed, their tail curling inward as they glanced at their missing hand. Skywalker handled it. They could handle it too.
Alexandria spoke for them, thankfully. "Knight Ripplescale lost their lightsaber in the final attack on the Simurgh, but I can attest it was very real, and very much cut through the Endbringer like she was paper, like a lightsaber would."
"Done. That's the last red tag," she said, taking her hand off the cape, who got off the stretcher whole and in amazement, thanking the healer. After the cape left, it was Ripplescale's turn.
"You're a big one, aren't you?" she said, as she reached over to touch their neck and stopped, eyes wide, and she didn't speak for nearly ten seconds. "You… you're… you were never human. I can't find any inch of human DNA in you. You didn't even evolve on the same planet. You don't have any evolutionary markers I recognize. What are you?"
"I already told you."
She snapped. "Everyone knows Star Wars isn't real. Its made up. Fiction. There's no galaxy far far away, no Obi-Wan Kenobi or Clone Wars, or Luke Skywalker or the Force. Quit messing around."
"His name is Anakin. Anakin Skywalker. And trust me, the Clone War is very very real." The sound of blaster fire echoed in their mind, of war machines crushing bodies littering the ground, the howl of orbital insertions and the terror of hot landings.
Alexandria interjected. "Before we spoil anything for our General here, is there anything you can do?"
Panacea nodded, returning to a distant gazing at them, as if she saw something entirely different. "Its… I'm just letting the body do its work, and there are plenty of reserves but you may want to get some red meat for this guy. I'm showing he—they are almost entirely carnivorous."
"I am also partial to fruit, especially sour ones," they added.
"And, and they have these strange symbiotic bacteria in their system that I cannot figure out the point of. And organs I'm not entirely sure are analogous to human organs. But regrowing their arms? I can do that."
"Good. I must go now, but I will leave our Jedi Knight in your hands." Her bemusement radiated at the title. Were Jedi such a joke to her? Why were they consider fictional? Was Earth Bet secretly in the Corsuca Galaxy's past or future, a world lost to the wider galaxy?
Panacea was silent for a minute, as she worked, their skin and flesh tingling as it re-knit itself.
"You were right about what I was thinking earlier," she said quietly. "So what am I thinking now?"
Her mind flit before it landed on an image, of a familiar spacecraft, a type of Corellian freighter common to smugglers that any good Jedi who traveled the Mid and Outer Rim was familiar with. "A YT-1200 or 1300 light freighter. How do you know of such a thing?"
"It's called the Millenium Falcon, and its from a movie. A motion picture. A vid or whatever."
"How is that possible? I'm in a different universe, I'm quite sure."
She snorted. "You're certainly in a different something. Let's do one more."
"Have I not proven my validity?"
"You've proven you have the powers of a Jedi, at least," she admitted, "even if I can't explain how. But the idea that there's some nebulous Force of good out there? Working for good ends? That's just not true."
"Maybe it wasn't true," they admitted, "before I arrived. But I have brought the Force with me, and I will awaken this benighted planet to the Light Side."
"If you're really from Star Wars, what's the last thing you remember?"
They couldn't stop the shudder, remembering their last moments. Instead of answering they said, "I am not from some schlocky vid called 'Star Wars,' I am from the Corsuca Galaxy."
"Was it bad?" she said, before slamming a hand over her mouth, instantly realizing the inappropriateness of the question.
"Do you consider betrayal by your loyal and trusted soldiers, bad, Panacea?" they said dryly.
"So wait, you came from Order 66?" The Force hummed with warning.
"Order what?" they asked, confused. They had to know.
"The order to kill all Jedi?" Panacea said, like they should know.
They couldn't move. Her words rung in the Force with the truth. Somehow, someway, this human girl knew the truth of what happened. The order… to kill all Jedi… To think that what happened to them was not some fluke or mutiny, but an order. And the clones always obeyed orders, even bad ones. Even terrible ones.
"Ripplescale?"
It made a sick sort of sense and yet didn't. Why eliminate the Jedi? They were so close to winning the war. And how would this girl know?
"Why?" they finally said. "Why kill the Jedi? We were winning the war, finally. Count Dooku and General Grievous were dead, for Light's sake, the CIS on the backfoot. It was almost over. It doesn't make sense, for High Command to betray the Jedi like that."
"You're not lying," she finally said. "You're actually confused. You aren't playing around."
"I have only ever told the truth," they bit out harshly, "it is you and Alexandria that mock me, thinking me a fool."
Panacea winced. "I… I know there are other Earths out there, but the idea that out there somewhere, Star Wars is real, that Jedi fight Sith, that the Force is a real thing, its ludicrous. But you believe it. So I guess, I believe it too."
"The existence of other universes is new one to me. I suppose we'll both muddle through it. This 'Star Wars' though. Is there a way to easily consume such media?"
She winced. "You… may not want to watch the original Trilogy. Or any of it, actually. Uh… what happens after you die isn't… pretty."
"Surely not every Jedi dies," they said, despair filling their voice, instantly going to the worst scenario.
"They don't! They don't. It's… I can't tell you, but maybe don't tell anyone you're a Jedi until you've seen them, so they don't uh, tell you upsetting information. They'll think you're joking or playing around, or try to tease you," Panacea said. Silence. Then she said, "Uh, and I finished a minute or two ago, so I should probably get back to more patients."
They stared at their limbs, restored as new, with fresh red plumage. "Thank you, Panacea. You truly are a miracle worker. Even Force Healing takes much more effort than that."
"Thank you for your interesting biology. I wouldn't mind healing you again… Not that I want to have to heal you!"
They laughed, a coughing bark. "I should tell you, I will be visiting Brockton Bay. There are matters of the Force I must attend to there," they said. "Perhaps you can show me these Star Wars movies?"
She perked up at the idea. "Yeah! Oh man, Vicky is going to lose her shit when she meets you. She loves Star Wars and Jurassic Park."
"I look forward to meeting your sister. May the Force be with you, Panacea."
She looked embarrassed as she said, "May the Force be with you, Ripplescale."
They smiled as they left, calling over their shoulder, "Is it not? An Endbringer is dead."
Outside the chaos had not died down one bit, and they made their way into the air above to find one of the Triumvirate. They found Legend talking with a group of capes, gesturing and laughing. The crowd parted around their saurian form, and Legend glanced at them, before gesturing them closer.
"Knight Ripplescale, you had a hand in defeating the Simurgh. Why not tell your tale?"
Well, there would be time to ask when Brockton Bay was leaving later, they thought as they settled in, starting with falling from the air—Getting an obligatory question about their nature, to which they simply said they were a Case 53—leading to being selected to fight beside Alexandria, the meeting in the open air, and slicing her leg, her hand and a wing. They cheered at that.
"You showed the feathered bitch!" a man drunkenly called out, leading to a parade of colorful exhortations against the Endbringer.
They told the rest of the tale, routinely interrupted by questions, and comments, as a crowd gathered round to listen. They told of their mission to destroy the dreaded Tinkertech the Simurgh was constructing, that so many lives were spent to end. Of sitting down and reaching out with the Force, and crushing it with their mind, as brave Alexandria distracted the Simurgh. Of the deadly cat and mouse game through campus buildings, ending with Ripplescale turning around and finding the perfect moment to strike, destroying their weapon and hand in the process.
"And the final blow? Did you deal it?" someone asked.
"We all dealt the final blow today," Legend said, a smile wide on his face. "The Endbringers are not invincible! With the combined might of Parahumans, working together, we can defeat them. Individuals did not save us. You saved us. We saved us."
"Let him answer the question!" another cape shouted, hidden in the crowd.
"Them, actually," Ripplescale stated. "And Legend is right. Who dealt the final blow has no bearing. There would have been no final blow to be dealt without the sacrifice of far too many. As a group, we achieve far more than we ever could as a single individual, no matter how powerful."
"Great, another fuckin' fag," muttered a man in a metal wolf mask, standing off to the side in the inner crowd.
They ignored the obvious pejorative, but Legend didn't. "Is there something you wish to say, Hookwolf?"
"Nah, not to you. Since the fun ain't happening, I'm just killing time before Strider leaves with Brockton Bay."
Legend looked disgustedly at the man. "Leave, then. You certainly aren't wanted."
Hookwolf flipped his middle finger up at Legend, then at Ripplescale for good measure. "Don't mind if I do." Before pushing himself through the crowd, bumping chests and growling.
Once he left, Legend took back over. "Now, to answer the question on all your minds, do to Thinker analysis we do believe that either Knight Ripplescale, or Eidolon dealt the final blow. Which means that the reward money for the successful slaying of an Endbringer will go to both of them, and both will be awarded numerous awards."
Awards speeches and ceremonies, oh joy, they thought with grim amusement. One would think you would get used to such things… "I will gladly accept such awards, but a reward is too much. Perhaps it could be donated?"
Legend stepped forward and put a hand on their flank. "Folks, a real hero. A Case 53, with nothing on but the clothes on their back, and they're talking about donating the reward already. Here, come with me, the rest of the Triumvirate are waiting to meet you. Eidolon is especially excited."
And the crowd parted, letting them go with cheers and cries.
As they walked, Legend relaxed a little, his smile dimming to a tired grin. "Case 53, huh? I thought you were a Jedi Knight?"
"Please don't mock me. Panacea informed me of your 'Star Wars' and its improbable resemblance to my very real life," they said stiffly, feeling the mirth in the man.
"I'm sorry, it's just. Usually Case 53s don't have a backstory," he tried to explain. "I'll… be more mindful."
"That is all I ask. Two hours ago I was on Biraxis Prime, leading an assault. One hour ago, I was dying, betrayed by my comrades. Now I am here. I cannot explain it."
Mirth muddled with sour confusion and doubt radiated from the man, but he didn't say anything else rude.
Eidolon and Alexandria were standing alone on top of a hill, talking quietly when they approached.
Both turned to greet Legend, and Ripplescale, before they turned back to look over the Molongo River at the smoking ruined wreck of downtown, where even now capes swarmed in Search & Rescue.
Alexandria spoke first. "You aren't a Case 53. You aren't human. You claim to be from the Corsuca Galaxy, a fictional place in a fictional universe. Do you have proof?"
"Would you like me to read your mind? Befuddle your senses? Lift a rock? Or are you here to just mock me? I could sense your bemusement, even with your emotions as strange and distant as they are."
"Would I like to believe a… being from a fictional property has come alive and saved us? Yes. Do I believe its likely? No."
"Of course it is not likely. Traveling to other universes is not likely."
Eidolon snorted and Ripplescale glanced his way. "Traveling to other universes is easy. It's believing an alien will save us that's hard."
"So you admit I am an alien?"
"It is likely, with the evidence. All Changers contain human DNA. Non-human Case 53s have human DNA spliced into their bodies. Panacea found none, and you've repeatedly claimed to be an alien. Ipso facto," Alexandria said.
"But you think, what? I have taken up a kind of fictional identity?"
"Frankly, yes."
Legend looked surprised at this news. "I thought you said…"
"I've had time to consider it and get over my instinctual objections. Knight Ripplescale is an alien."
"Don't you both find this rather pat? We finally achieve what we've spent decades doing, and it comes down to an alien mysteriously appearing with powers that mimic a fictional property. Do you think the Enemy is fucking with us?" Eidolon asked, seriously.
"If by the Enemy, you mean the golden avatar of the worm infesting your planet, I have absolutely no relation and seek his demise."
"He even knows—"
"They," Legend said sternly, and Eidolon scoffed, before continuing.
"They even know about the Enemy. This is obviously a trap." They could see the paranoia worming its way through his mind, a fog turning everything hostile.
"I will awaken one of you to the Force. Will that suffice in clearing the air about whether I am telling the truth or not?"
"You can powershare?" Alexandria said sharply.
"I can awaken one to the Force that lies all around them. I share nothing."
"I always wanted to be a Jedi," Legend murmured, and even Eidolon looked a little intrigued.
"And so you shall be, Legend. In time, there will be many Jedi."
"You intend to use this 'awakening' power on others?"
"When I find those who will benefit themselves and others, yes."
"And the cost?" asked Alexandria.
"What cost? It costs me nothing."
"You want nothing for giving someone else your power?" She sounded incredulous.
"I want them to use it for good, for the Light. But the Force is not something you can purchase."
Eidolon watched the exchange silently, before asking, "Why Legend?"
"He is the purest of you three, by far, and the least tainted by your shared association."
"You are aware of Cauldron?" Eidolon asked, surprised.
They smiled, a full saurian smile, and gave a cool, "Yes, I am aware. The Force made me aware of many urgent things. Which is why I will be heading to Brockton Bay."
"Brockton? But you need to come to New York if you are to teach me," Legend said.
"Are you telling me you, the fastest man alive, cannot make the time to come train with me?"
"Wait, we haven't even decided if Legend will be taking this power," Eidolon protested.
"We haven't?" they asked. "Legend wishes to, and I wish to give it." And they reached out a hand to Legend, who took a step closer.
"The power is untested, and from an alien. Who know how it will react, and what will happen. Wait, until we have them tested."
They could see worry mounting in Alexandria, her distant thoughts flitting rapidly, and Eidolons thoughts were practically blaring worry Legend would find out the lies. It would suit them well, if Legend had that level of awareness after awakening. And Legend could tell they were worried, not about him, but about him gaining the Force. A resolve filled him and Legend took their scaled claws in his gloved hands.
"Do it," he said.
"Keith, don't—" Alexandria started, but it was already too late. The awakening had started.
"A healing trance, and a dunk in a bacta tank, and I shall be fine," they reassured the corrupt hero, before realizing they had spoken in the sibilant hisses and whistles of Sauryx at the cape's abject confusion. They barked another laugh as they hovered over the edge of the crater. "I said, a healing trance and a dunk in a bacta tank and I shall be fine. I must have taken quite the hit. The battle is over, yes?"
She looked at them strangely. "Yes. And there's no such thing as bacta."
It hit them again, how far away they were from the Corsuca Galaxy. These humans didn't have bacta, or hyperdrives or even a unified planetary government, for the Light's sake! At that moment, an idea floated to the forefront of their brain. They may not have bacta, but they do have Panacea. "That cape, Panacea then. She can reconstruct limbs, can she not?" They tried not to sound too desperate.
"You know of her. Your biology may… cause some issues, but I'm certain she'll do what she can."
The Endbringer lay slumped on the ground, a huge chunk taken out of her where her smallest wing had been. Ichor pooled and bubbled around her, as capes cheered, hugging with weary but hopeful hearts. They could feel in the Force as the news spread, the miasma of fear and despair not enough to hide the brimming dawn of hope and joy. It made up, a little, for losing his longest-held blade, made when he was only a year into Knighthood. A Jedi without a lightsaber was still a Jedi. They knew that, but the loss keened, a twin to the loss of his hand.
At least the cause was dead.
"Let us make our way to the camp. I have no desire to linger," they said, not caring if they were being rude.
Alexandria nodded, and they followed.
Camp was a scene of controlled chaos that boiled over at the arrival of Alexandria.
Cries of "Is it true?" and "Is that him?" followed us as she ignored them, gliding resolutely to the medical tents. She went to the third one, open the door and stepping in to reveal a young woman in red and white robes, a miasma of depression, anxiety and fear enveloping her even as she worked, injuries reversing and disappearing on the cape she touched.
"Panacea, I have a case for you, when you are finished with the red tags."
She looked up, frowning turning into startlement as she caught sight of Ripplescale. "A Case 53?"
"You could say that. This is Knight Ripplescale. He has been instrumental in the death of the Simurgh, and lost a hand in the final moments. If you could regrow it, like you would a Case 53, I would appreciate it greatly."
"They," they said. "I am not male or female, as humans would understand it."
Panacea snorted. "If you're not human, then what are you? A dinosaur?"
"I am Ripplescale Redfeather, a Sauraptorian, of Sauryxia. A Jedi Knight of the Coruscant Temple. A General of the Grand Army of the Republic. Of course, none of those things mean anything in this galaxy."
Alexandria stared at them, and they could almost see her bemusement with how strong it was.
"Oh, you're a Jedi, huh? Yeah right. Read my mind," the healer said sarcastically.
She was thinking of her sister's hair. "Your sister's hair. You've heard of Jedi?"
She blushed, and said, "I was not! I was thinking the number three. Everyone's heard of Jedi, doofus. It just they aren't real."
"There is no need for falsehoods. Your sister's hair is quite beautiful, as far as humans consider such aesthetics. Why would they not be real?"
"Lift up that table, if you're a Jedi." They did easily, causing the objects on top it to rise into the air and began slowly circling.
"Parlor tricks for a Jedi," they said, amused at the wide eyes the display made.
"Well, if you're really a Jedi, where's your lightsaber."
Immediately their mood dimmed, their tail curling inward as they glanced at their missing hand. Skywalker handled it. They could handle it too.
Alexandria spoke for them, thankfully. "Knight Ripplescale lost their lightsaber in the final attack on the Simurgh, but I can attest it was very real, and very much cut through the Endbringer like she was paper, like a lightsaber would."
"Done. That's the last red tag," she said, taking her hand off the cape, who got off the stretcher whole and in amazement, thanking the healer. After the cape left, it was Ripplescale's turn.
"You're a big one, aren't you?" she said, as she reached over to touch their neck and stopped, eyes wide, and she didn't speak for nearly ten seconds. "You… you're… you were never human. I can't find any inch of human DNA in you. You didn't even evolve on the same planet. You don't have any evolutionary markers I recognize. What are you?"
"I already told you."
She snapped. "Everyone knows Star Wars isn't real. Its made up. Fiction. There's no galaxy far far away, no Obi-Wan Kenobi or Clone Wars, or Luke Skywalker or the Force. Quit messing around."
"His name is Anakin. Anakin Skywalker. And trust me, the Clone War is very very real." The sound of blaster fire echoed in their mind, of war machines crushing bodies littering the ground, the howl of orbital insertions and the terror of hot landings.
Alexandria interjected. "Before we spoil anything for our General here, is there anything you can do?"
Panacea nodded, returning to a distant gazing at them, as if she saw something entirely different. "Its… I'm just letting the body do its work, and there are plenty of reserves but you may want to get some red meat for this guy. I'm showing he—they are almost entirely carnivorous."
"I am also partial to fruit, especially sour ones," they added.
"And, and they have these strange symbiotic bacteria in their system that I cannot figure out the point of. And organs I'm not entirely sure are analogous to human organs. But regrowing their arms? I can do that."
"Good. I must go now, but I will leave our Jedi Knight in your hands." Her bemusement radiated at the title. Were Jedi such a joke to her? Why were they consider fictional? Was Earth Bet secretly in the Corsuca Galaxy's past or future, a world lost to the wider galaxy?
Panacea was silent for a minute, as she worked, their skin and flesh tingling as it re-knit itself.
"You were right about what I was thinking earlier," she said quietly. "So what am I thinking now?"
Her mind flit before it landed on an image, of a familiar spacecraft, a type of Corellian freighter common to smugglers that any good Jedi who traveled the Mid and Outer Rim was familiar with. "A YT-1200 or 1300 light freighter. How do you know of such a thing?"
"It's called the Millenium Falcon, and its from a movie. A motion picture. A vid or whatever."
"How is that possible? I'm in a different universe, I'm quite sure."
She snorted. "You're certainly in a different something. Let's do one more."
"Have I not proven my validity?"
"You've proven you have the powers of a Jedi, at least," she admitted, "even if I can't explain how. But the idea that there's some nebulous Force of good out there? Working for good ends? That's just not true."
"Maybe it wasn't true," they admitted, "before I arrived. But I have brought the Force with me, and I will awaken this benighted planet to the Light Side."
"If you're really from Star Wars, what's the last thing you remember?"
They couldn't stop the shudder, remembering their last moments. Instead of answering they said, "I am not from some schlocky vid called 'Star Wars,' I am from the Corsuca Galaxy."
"Was it bad?" she said, before slamming a hand over her mouth, instantly realizing the inappropriateness of the question.
"Do you consider betrayal by your loyal and trusted soldiers, bad, Panacea?" they said dryly.
"So wait, you came from Order 66?" The Force hummed with warning.
"Order what?" they asked, confused. They had to know.
"The order to kill all Jedi?" Panacea said, like they should know.
They couldn't move. Her words rung in the Force with the truth. Somehow, someway, this human girl knew the truth of what happened. The order… to kill all Jedi… To think that what happened to them was not some fluke or mutiny, but an order. And the clones always obeyed orders, even bad ones. Even terrible ones.
"Ripplescale?"
It made a sick sort of sense and yet didn't. Why eliminate the Jedi? They were so close to winning the war. And how would this girl know?
"Why?" they finally said. "Why kill the Jedi? We were winning the war, finally. Count Dooku and General Grievous were dead, for Light's sake, the CIS on the backfoot. It was almost over. It doesn't make sense, for High Command to betray the Jedi like that."
"You're not lying," she finally said. "You're actually confused. You aren't playing around."
"I have only ever told the truth," they bit out harshly, "it is you and Alexandria that mock me, thinking me a fool."
Panacea winced. "I… I know there are other Earths out there, but the idea that out there somewhere, Star Wars is real, that Jedi fight Sith, that the Force is a real thing, its ludicrous. But you believe it. So I guess, I believe it too."
"The existence of other universes is new one to me. I suppose we'll both muddle through it. This 'Star Wars' though. Is there a way to easily consume such media?"
She winced. "You… may not want to watch the original Trilogy. Or any of it, actually. Uh… what happens after you die isn't… pretty."
"Surely not every Jedi dies," they said, despair filling their voice, instantly going to the worst scenario.
"They don't! They don't. It's… I can't tell you, but maybe don't tell anyone you're a Jedi until you've seen them, so they don't uh, tell you upsetting information. They'll think you're joking or playing around, or try to tease you," Panacea said. Silence. Then she said, "Uh, and I finished a minute or two ago, so I should probably get back to more patients."
They stared at their limbs, restored as new, with fresh red plumage. "Thank you, Panacea. You truly are a miracle worker. Even Force Healing takes much more effort than that."
"Thank you for your interesting biology. I wouldn't mind healing you again… Not that I want to have to heal you!"
They laughed, a coughing bark. "I should tell you, I will be visiting Brockton Bay. There are matters of the Force I must attend to there," they said. "Perhaps you can show me these Star Wars movies?"
She perked up at the idea. "Yeah! Oh man, Vicky is going to lose her shit when she meets you. She loves Star Wars and Jurassic Park."
"I look forward to meeting your sister. May the Force be with you, Panacea."
She looked embarrassed as she said, "May the Force be with you, Ripplescale."
They smiled as they left, calling over their shoulder, "Is it not? An Endbringer is dead."
Outside the chaos had not died down one bit, and they made their way into the air above to find one of the Triumvirate. They found Legend talking with a group of capes, gesturing and laughing. The crowd parted around their saurian form, and Legend glanced at them, before gesturing them closer.
"Knight Ripplescale, you had a hand in defeating the Simurgh. Why not tell your tale?"
Well, there would be time to ask when Brockton Bay was leaving later, they thought as they settled in, starting with falling from the air—Getting an obligatory question about their nature, to which they simply said they were a Case 53—leading to being selected to fight beside Alexandria, the meeting in the open air, and slicing her leg, her hand and a wing. They cheered at that.
"You showed the feathered bitch!" a man drunkenly called out, leading to a parade of colorful exhortations against the Endbringer.
They told the rest of the tale, routinely interrupted by questions, and comments, as a crowd gathered round to listen. They told of their mission to destroy the dreaded Tinkertech the Simurgh was constructing, that so many lives were spent to end. Of sitting down and reaching out with the Force, and crushing it with their mind, as brave Alexandria distracted the Simurgh. Of the deadly cat and mouse game through campus buildings, ending with Ripplescale turning around and finding the perfect moment to strike, destroying their weapon and hand in the process.
"And the final blow? Did you deal it?" someone asked.
"We all dealt the final blow today," Legend said, a smile wide on his face. "The Endbringers are not invincible! With the combined might of Parahumans, working together, we can defeat them. Individuals did not save us. You saved us. We saved us."
"Let him answer the question!" another cape shouted, hidden in the crowd.
"Them, actually," Ripplescale stated. "And Legend is right. Who dealt the final blow has no bearing. There would have been no final blow to be dealt without the sacrifice of far too many. As a group, we achieve far more than we ever could as a single individual, no matter how powerful."
"Great, another fuckin' fag," muttered a man in a metal wolf mask, standing off to the side in the inner crowd.
They ignored the obvious pejorative, but Legend didn't. "Is there something you wish to say, Hookwolf?"
"Nah, not to you. Since the fun ain't happening, I'm just killing time before Strider leaves with Brockton Bay."
Legend looked disgustedly at the man. "Leave, then. You certainly aren't wanted."
Hookwolf flipped his middle finger up at Legend, then at Ripplescale for good measure. "Don't mind if I do." Before pushing himself through the crowd, bumping chests and growling.
Once he left, Legend took back over. "Now, to answer the question on all your minds, do to Thinker analysis we do believe that either Knight Ripplescale, or Eidolon dealt the final blow. Which means that the reward money for the successful slaying of an Endbringer will go to both of them, and both will be awarded numerous awards."
Awards speeches and ceremonies, oh joy, they thought with grim amusement. One would think you would get used to such things… "I will gladly accept such awards, but a reward is too much. Perhaps it could be donated?"
Legend stepped forward and put a hand on their flank. "Folks, a real hero. A Case 53, with nothing on but the clothes on their back, and they're talking about donating the reward already. Here, come with me, the rest of the Triumvirate are waiting to meet you. Eidolon is especially excited."
And the crowd parted, letting them go with cheers and cries.
As they walked, Legend relaxed a little, his smile dimming to a tired grin. "Case 53, huh? I thought you were a Jedi Knight?"
"Please don't mock me. Panacea informed me of your 'Star Wars' and its improbable resemblance to my very real life," they said stiffly, feeling the mirth in the man.
"I'm sorry, it's just. Usually Case 53s don't have a backstory," he tried to explain. "I'll… be more mindful."
"That is all I ask. Two hours ago I was on Biraxis Prime, leading an assault. One hour ago, I was dying, betrayed by my comrades. Now I am here. I cannot explain it."
Mirth muddled with sour confusion and doubt radiated from the man, but he didn't say anything else rude.
Eidolon and Alexandria were standing alone on top of a hill, talking quietly when they approached.
Both turned to greet Legend, and Ripplescale, before they turned back to look over the Molongo River at the smoking ruined wreck of downtown, where even now capes swarmed in Search & Rescue.
Alexandria spoke first. "You aren't a Case 53. You aren't human. You claim to be from the Corsuca Galaxy, a fictional place in a fictional universe. Do you have proof?"
"Would you like me to read your mind? Befuddle your senses? Lift a rock? Or are you here to just mock me? I could sense your bemusement, even with your emotions as strange and distant as they are."
"Would I like to believe a… being from a fictional property has come alive and saved us? Yes. Do I believe its likely? No."
"Of course it is not likely. Traveling to other universes is not likely."
Eidolon snorted and Ripplescale glanced his way. "Traveling to other universes is easy. It's believing an alien will save us that's hard."
"So you admit I am an alien?"
"It is likely, with the evidence. All Changers contain human DNA. Non-human Case 53s have human DNA spliced into their bodies. Panacea found none, and you've repeatedly claimed to be an alien. Ipso facto," Alexandria said.
"But you think, what? I have taken up a kind of fictional identity?"
"Frankly, yes."
Legend looked surprised at this news. "I thought you said…"
"I've had time to consider it and get over my instinctual objections. Knight Ripplescale is an alien."
"Don't you both find this rather pat? We finally achieve what we've spent decades doing, and it comes down to an alien mysteriously appearing with powers that mimic a fictional property. Do you think the Enemy is fucking with us?" Eidolon asked, seriously.
"If by the Enemy, you mean the golden avatar of the worm infesting your planet, I have absolutely no relation and seek his demise."
"He even knows—"
"They," Legend said sternly, and Eidolon scoffed, before continuing.
"They even know about the Enemy. This is obviously a trap." They could see the paranoia worming its way through his mind, a fog turning everything hostile.
"I will awaken one of you to the Force. Will that suffice in clearing the air about whether I am telling the truth or not?"
"You can powershare?" Alexandria said sharply.
"I can awaken one to the Force that lies all around them. I share nothing."
"I always wanted to be a Jedi," Legend murmured, and even Eidolon looked a little intrigued.
"And so you shall be, Legend. In time, there will be many Jedi."
"You intend to use this 'awakening' power on others?"
"When I find those who will benefit themselves and others, yes."
"And the cost?" asked Alexandria.
"What cost? It costs me nothing."
"You want nothing for giving someone else your power?" She sounded incredulous.
"I want them to use it for good, for the Light. But the Force is not something you can purchase."
Eidolon watched the exchange silently, before asking, "Why Legend?"
"He is the purest of you three, by far, and the least tainted by your shared association."
"You are aware of Cauldron?" Eidolon asked, surprised.
They smiled, a full saurian smile, and gave a cool, "Yes, I am aware. The Force made me aware of many urgent things. Which is why I will be heading to Brockton Bay."
"Brockton? But you need to come to New York if you are to teach me," Legend said.
"Are you telling me you, the fastest man alive, cannot make the time to come train with me?"
"Wait, we haven't even decided if Legend will be taking this power," Eidolon protested.
"We haven't?" they asked. "Legend wishes to, and I wish to give it." And they reached out a hand to Legend, who took a step closer.
"The power is untested, and from an alien. Who know how it will react, and what will happen. Wait, until we have them tested."
They could see worry mounting in Alexandria, her distant thoughts flitting rapidly, and Eidolons thoughts were practically blaring worry Legend would find out the lies. It would suit them well, if Legend had that level of awareness after awakening. And Legend could tell they were worried, not about him, but about him gaining the Force. A resolve filled him and Legend took their scaled claws in his gloved hands.
"Do it," he said.
"Keith, don't—" Alexandria started, but it was already too late. The awakening had started.
Chapter 3
New
Adullahan
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"I feel so much, I feel it all, the hope and fear and joy and worry and all like a great tapestry," Legend was telling the Triumvirate, as he leaned back against a tree and smiled, minutes later. "And I feel it, the Force filling me, the Light Side like a beacon of rightness and in the distance the roiling rancid Darkness. But with the Light, I know I will be safe. They're right. The Force is real." He laughed. "The Force is real, David."
Eidolon soured, glancing at Ripplescale with a flash of envy and disdain, before adopting a smile. "I'm sure it is a real trip, your new power."
"So, am I a fool still, playing at pretend?" Ripplescale asked from where they lay sunbathing, having let Legend enjoy his first minutes with the Force. First, he had simply stared in wonder, before laughing and crying, truly disturbing the two. Thankfully, he had somehow convinced them of his sanity.
Eidolon looked unconvinced, but they could see conviction and resolve building in Alexandria, who nodded and said, "I find it highly improbable, but aliens exist. Interdimensional travel exists. It is entirely possible universes we view as fictional are actually real places, in the multiverse's vastness. So I must concede, you are most likely a Jedi Knight, and a veteran of three years of brutal, bloody warfare, who has somehow found themselves here after a bizarre accident."
"Thank you, Alexandria. I will take that as a no, you are not a fool playing pretend," they said dryly.
Legend laughed, a happy sound. "They got you."
"Now, for you, Legend, how about you reel yourself back in with some meditation? Focus on the self, not the whole," they begin, starting with a traditional meditation they learned when they were six and first learning to expand and contract their awareness in the Force.
It took a few minutes before Legend could keep his focus tight and narrow, but far faster than any child learned. Perhaps there was some utility to awakening adult Force Sensitives, Ripplescale pondered.
"That's… that was.. That was like a religious experience. I'm just glad we won. To imagine feeling Canberra as it was walled…" He shivered, imagining the fear and terror pouring from the city, polluting the very air.
"You must remember, always, that the emotions you feel in others are not your own. But yes, I imagine that such a feeling would be quite uncomfortable, especially for someone first awakening to the Force. It was why the Younglings were all kept inside the Temple except on pre-approved trips."
They all three winced at the word Younglings and a part of Ripplescale's heart shattered in that moment. Not the Younglings, they thought. Surely not. The silence stretched. They moved on, not wanting to address the matter. They would watch and learn with Panacea. They would know soon enough. They shoved the thought away deep in their mind and let go of the sorrow pooling in their heart, dripping in slowly like a poison.
"How long should I expect to be here, before leaving for Brockton Bay?" they asked into the silence.
"Brockton Bay leaves in the next hour. Are you sure about not staying in New York City?" Legend asked, clearly wanting to move on as well.
"It would make sense to train Legend a little before heading to Brockton Bay," added Alexandria.
"It is enough that he works on controlling his focus, before trying anything else. Taking up a sword based martial arts as well. Something traditional, with a history. It will add to when he begins lightsaber training."
"You can build another," Alexandria determined. Ideas flashed to Ripplescale's mind, of bulky lightsabers attached by cords to power packs, as many types and styles for as many Force sects. Different crystals glistened and shown, far more than just Kyber, shimmering in a dozen prismatic colors.
"I can build a bulky equivalent with this planet's technology. With time and resources, I will be able to make much more," they said. "Blasters, repulsors, shields, plasteel and duracrete, even droids."
"And you will get those resources, once you sign up to the Protectorate," Alexandria said, like it was guaranteed. That made their hackles rise, red feathers fanning around their skull in an ancient threat display.
"I will not be playing the game of Capes and Robbers you three seem to think is a functional society. I will respond as I am, a Jedi Knight. And I expect you can offer those resources to me, regardless, if you have any sense. And if not, I will find them as I cut down the savages you let parade around that city you've left to rot. It would only be just and right."
"Please tell us how you truly feel," Eidolon said with an insufferable smirk. "Without that 'game' as you call it, our Earth would be a feudal warzone of Parahuman despots. Cauldron is the only thing that keeps this planet from boiling over in an orgy of violence and destruction. And please, please, carve up Brockton Bay with a lightsaber, and see how you get treated. Fucking nutzo. You two can roleplay with the insane Changer, I'm done here."
Silence filled the top of the hill as Eidolon rocketed off into the sky.
"He'll come around," Legend offered weakly. "He just doesn't like getting shown up." A pause. "If you won't join the Protectorate, will you not at least sign up as an affiliate? If one of the heroes that slayed the Simurgh isn't associated with the Protectorate, it will not look good. I understand your hesitancy to… play by the rules, as it were, given your duty, but this isn't your galaxy."
"I am willing to affiliate myself, and create my technology in a workshop provided by the PRT. But I will not be putting on a mask, pretending I am someone I am not. I understand you are doing all you can to save not only this world, but a hundred billion others. That is not excusing it, however, nor is it condoning your choices."
"If that is the best we can hope for at this juncture, then I accept," Legend said. "Keep in mind pretty much everyone will view your claims of being a Jedi Knight as ridiculous as Myrridin claiming to be a wizard. They may accept it, but they'll never believe it. They'll always talk about you behind your back."
Ripplescale bristled. "I will not be mocked for my beliefs. They will learn in time a Jedi has come to Earth Bet," they said with certainty.
Legend seemed less sure.
"I will inform Armsmaster of your desire to affiliate yourself, and that we will be offering special dispensation for a Tinker budget," Alexandria noted, "but we should really be returning, now that Eidolon has left. Knight Ripplescale, if you would follow me, I'll lead you to the Brockton Bay contingent."
Ripplescale followed her in silence, thoughts stewing on the myriad crimes of the woman, but they did not say anything. Not yet. There would be time in the future for a frank discussion with Alexandria. And Eidolon, the arrogant man fleeing what he did not understand, lashing out in anger. He would need to be watched. Men like that sometimes made terrible choices. The contingent of Brockton Bay heroes gathered in one of the open air tents around a table, relaxing and having free coffee. Miss Milita stood and greeted them, the other heroes, Dauntless, Assault and Battery, also standing and shaking their hand.
"So what brings you to Brockton Bay, mighty Endslayer?" Assault asked with a smirk. "Aren't you a Case 53? Looking to join Faultline's Crew? Or just wanting to have some fun with the local crowd, maybe play hooky with Hookwolf, or hopscotch with Lung?"
"Neither," Ripplescale said, shaking their head. "I have matters to attend to, and your city is in dire need of heroes, according to Alexandria. I can do both there."
"We could always use more heroes, and someone of your skill will be highly valuable," Battery said with a smile. "The next week should be calm, but once the Truce ends…"
"Then I shall have time to prepare. I believe Alexandria said she would prepare a workshop for my… Tinkering, you call it."
"You're a Tinker as well? Soon you'll be saying you're actually some kind of Trump," joked Dauntless.
They calmly replied, "I am. I am a power-sharer. I can nurture a spark in another, awakening them to the same power as mine."
"And what's the downside?" Assault asked warily. "Power-sharing always has a downside."
"They must learn to use the power as it grows with them. The power is dangerous in the wrong hands, and can lead to tragedy, so do not expect me to simply use it on you, if you ask," they warned.
Assault shook his head. "No need to worry on that front, bucko. I think I speak for all of us when I say I pass. Power-sharers don't have the best reputation."
"Really? Legend seemed to accept my offer quite quickly," they mused.
"Are you saying you shared your power with Legend?" Battery asked. "Why?"
"He has the right heart for it, he is a true hero."
"So none of us are true heroes?" Dauntless questioned, sounding offended.
"There is a difference between the job title, and the truth of what a hero does. As far as the question of if there are any of you I would consider gifting my power to?" they examined the heroes before them, sensing their natures with the immense power and clarity the Force had in this universe. "Yes, more than one."
"Who are the lucky winners?" Assault asked eagerly. A childish man at heart, yet a noble soul. In the Corsuca Galaxy he would never be picked, and probably would have wound up in the Exploration Corp. Neither would Dauntless, a selfish man bound to his relationship with his family. Miss Militia, she would have been an excellent Jedi, and Battery, she had the heart and drive, if she wasn't so tightly bound to Assault, their connection obvious and deep. But these heroic Parahumans were the only ones they could awaken that would have any semblance of training and discipline. Things change, and beggars cannot be choosers.
"I must admit, if I had to choose, it would be the women," they said.
Battery chuckled. "Of course. We're much more reasonable. I honestly wouldn't mind have another power. Something to keep me safe when I'm charging."
"Hun, that's my job. You'll put me out of my job!" Assault cried theatrically and Battery rolled her eyes, punching him softly.
"I appreciate the sentiment, Ripplescale, but I decline. Untested power-sharing will not be the rule I break," said Miss Milita.
"The offer will stay open in the near future," they told the group. "It need not be untested, and I am willing to share with the PRT."
The New Wave contingent arrived in the tent next, a woman who introduced herself as Lady Photon, and the man beside her as Manpower, with Panacea trailing behind them, her face lighting up when she saw Ripplescale. She stood next to them and put a hand on their flank, eyes glazing over a bit as she examined their biology.
"It's strange, there are parts of you that read completely analogous to the human body, yet you evolved in a totally different environment, and from different evolutionary trees. The fact that there's any similarity at all is surprising me, but it's giving me a baseline that helps me figure out what your other organs do," Panacea, Amy, said in a low voice, while the other heroes chattered around them.
"In case you ever need to heal me again?" Ripplescale questioned.
"Exactly! And because you're, by far, the most interesting biology I've ever seen," she said, excitedly, her fingers absently digging into their scales, scratching an itch Ripplescale had. "You're like a puzzle that's incomplete and in a different language, and I'm trying to figure out what the picture is."
"Mmm." Ripplescale let Panacea absently scratch their flank, as she delved deeper into their biology. The touch of another being felt nice, the last time someone had itched them had been Jax, on that desert world when the fine sand kept getting in their scales, irritating them. This was much more pleasant.
Then came the villains: Hookwolf, followed by a woman in a cage mask, and a man in a bulletproof vest, with chains wrapped around his arms. All three reeked of disappointment, and simmering violence. In a flash, Ripplescale understood. They expected the city to be quarantined. But why would success disappoint them?
"Hookwolf, Cricket, and Stormtiger," Miss Miltia told Ripplescale. "Members of the Empire Eighty-Eight, a white supremacist gang in Brockton Bay. Hookwolf is very dangerous."
"We've met. He called me a fag," Ripplescale said dryly.
Assault whistled. "Well, no one ever said Hookwolf didn't have balls."
"Why are they disappointed? We have won the greatest success possible, yes? Canberra was saved and the Simurgh is dead," Ripplescale asked, confused.
Miss Militia grimaced and a disgusted look came over Assault's face.
"They expected to participate in maintaining the quarantine," Miss Militia said formally.
The quarantine that all cities fallen to the Simurgh experienced, walled off and cut off from modern civilization. They understood, now, disgusted themselves. These filth expected a good time killing helpless civilians attempting to flee such a nightmare. "Is that why they came?" they asked, incredulous.
"Hookwolf comes to every Simurgh battle, and it ain't because he thinks his wolf form can do any good against the Winged Bitch," Assault muttered.
Disgusting.
Soon enough it was time to leave. They made sure to stand next to Panacea, and the girl took their arm almost eagerly. Then there was sudden popping as a cape appeared in the center of the circle. "All aboard the Strider Express to Brockton Bay." He paused. "We got everyone?"
Miss Militia said, "Yes. Good to go."
"Then three, two, one, and here. We. Go!" the man called out.
The Force seemed to twist and ripple, practically screaming at the sundering of physical laws, before suddenly they appeared in the lobby of a building, standing in a circular mosaic. And just like that, this Strider was gone, popping away.
Miss Milita approached, after Panacea finally let their arm go, and said goodbye, Ripplescale promising to visit as soon as possible for their 'movie session'.
"If you'll follow me, we'll get you to power testing, which hopefully won't take too long, and then we can register you and find you a place to rest."
They followed her down empty office corridors, thinking surely it wouldn't take too long. How wrong they were.
"Give me the damage. What are we looking at here?" Emily said to her top two capes. The clock struck four in the morning half an hour ago, signaling the end of their exhaustive seven and a half-hour power testing session. They had been working with one of the Endslayers, a cape who had successfully taken down the Simurgh. It was a curious, and frustrating, choice for them to settle in her city. This Knight Ripplescale was certain to cause trouble, simply by their mere existence. They would bring other capes to the city, looking to meet or fight the Endslayer, who would in turn cause more trouble. It was a cycle she was hoping could be beat with the news Legend shared.
Hannah, Miss Milita, spoke first, standing at attention like this was some kind of formal meeting rather than an informal breakdown. It was to be expected, though. The woman was a stickler for rules and formality. "Knight Ripplescale is a Case 53 who first appeared in Canberra. They are, after extensive testing, a Blaster/Brute/Mover/Shaker/Thinker/Trump, with multiple major power expressions. They are tentatively a Shaker 10, after they revealed not only precision and large-scale telekinesis, but the fact that their telekinesis isn't Manton Limited. They can pick up living and non-living material with the same ease. Dr. Malick couldn't believe it until he witnessed it himself."
"And this is only one of their power expressions?" Emily clarified. Full telekinesis was an entire Cape powerset by itself.
Hannah nodded sharply. "They also demonstrated blasts and beams of light, giving them a tentative Blaster rating of 4, a minor Brute rating of 3, a surprisingly high top speed in land and air netting them a tentative Mover 5, mild clairvoyance and intuition giving them a Thinker rating of 3 and claimed to power share. We did not test the last one, though Ripplescale told us in Canberra that they shared, or 'awakened' their power in Legend. I don't know the validity of the claim."
"It's true. Legend called not two hours ago to let me know to expect him near daily, as he learns his new power from Ripplescale," Emily told her.
And hadn't that been a treat? Out of the Triumvirate, the one who is closest in proximity would finally arrive in Brockton Bay, but instead of addressing the city's problems, which Legend could reach in just a five-minute flight, they were here to learn about power-sharing from a Case 53. Only Emily could be so cursed a Director.
"Then you should know Knight Ripplescale offered their power to me, and Battery as well. They have a certain criterion in who they judge worthy of power, but they did mention intending to share it," Hannah informed her.
"Then one of you will have to be the guinea pig. If this Knight of ours can turn other capes into a powerhouse Grab-Bag like themself, we might have the key to securing Brockton Bay for now and the future. What about their mentality? What were they like?"
"They carry themself with a predatory grace that is a little unsettling at first, but they are very polite and kind and patient. Any other Parahuman would have run screaming bloody murder at the number of tests they were put through, but they kept at it. They seemed bored with it all, though, and didn't talk much about themself, which makes sense, given they are a Case 53. Polite and enduring is what I'd say."
Piggot nodded. That was good news. An unstable cape with those kinds of powers, with organic telekinesis… She didn't want to think about the kind of damage they could do, the bloody reign they'd wreak before they were taken down. Hannah sat back down.
Colin, Armsmaster, spoke next. "Knight Ripplescale is a Tinker with an unknown specialty, the only known Tinkertech they used being the laser sword they helped kill the Simurgh with, destroyed in the process. They built what they called a 'power pack,' a backpack sized power source that operated on a mixture of common gasses heated into plasma providing a stable and powerful electric flow. When I worked with them, I found them to be far more knowledge about the mechanical engineering of their work than the average, or even above-average Tinker. They even expressed a few basic scientific principles behind the workings of their Tinkertech—which I and the power scientists will have to study and verify—but based on the single test case I made while they finished their work, I believe the principles are sound."
"And what does that mean, exactly?" Emily asked. To her, it sounded like gibberish.
"Like Dragon's work, I believe it may lead to mass-reproducible production techniques, and new technologies. I believe we should analyze any blueprint they create and see if we cannot reproduce new scientific techniques from them. If we could get them to record explanations of the mechanical processes, then that would be a boon as well."
"You think our grab-bag is another Dragon?" Dragon. The Tinker who could translate Tinkertech into real world discovery and progress, advancing science and industry by years and decades. A priceless cape, and it was only one of Ripplescale's powers. What else were they? Secretly Eidolon's Case 53 lovechild? Emily thought, exasperated.
"Time will tell but I truly think they might be another Dragon, yes."
"So, yet another reason everyone will want them, and yet another reason we need to get them into the Protectorate. I've been told Knight Ripplescale will be receiving their own Tinker budget, before testing finished. I want you to make sure they have a workshop set up by before the end of the day, and everything they need by the time the Truce ends. New York City is providing the discretionary budget for this, so go hog wild."
Colin grinned for a moment like a child told he can have any candy he wishes, before resuming his calm, polite front.
"Yes, ma'am."
"And Hannah, see if Joslyn wishes to 'awaken' a Shaker 10 rating. If she does, I want her as a primary contact point with this Knight of ours. If not, we'll have to rely on you."
"I will do my duty, ma'am," Hannah said with a nod.
"As expected."
They took it as the dismissal it was, and left the office. Once they left Emily sighed and laid back in her chair, relaxing, rubbing her temples were a headache was forming. A power-sharing grab-bag Trump with maybe-reproducible tech, who was a Case 53. Might as well put a big flashing sign that said 'Kidnap Me' by coming to Brockton Bay. At least Legend arriving daily should deter anyone from any blatant action, if only for a while.
"What were you thinking, Keith? Truly, what were you thinking, accepting that thing's offer," David asked, exasperated, a hint of disgust in his voice.
They were in one of the many meeting rooms in Cauldron, a blank white room with a round table in the middle, all the nominal heads of Cauldron there to address the matter of Knight Ripplescale. It had been a contentious meeting so far.
David continued. "We all know I didn't kill the Simurgh, but the world doesn't know that, cannot know that. We can't tell them a supposed Jedi that literally fell out the sky managed to do what the Triumvirate couldn't. A frankly extremely fucking suspicious thing, and don't force the Infinite Worlds bullshit on me again, Keith! I know you and Becky are convinced, but I'm not. And we can't tell them you're running off to learn to become at a fake Jedi at their alien feet. But you didn't think of that before you made your choice, did you? Well, is your pretend Force worth it? Is being bound to an alien worth it?"
"What are you really upset about? That he didn't choose you, the great Eidolon?" Keith said in a mellow tone, calmly watching the proceedings. He had been noticeably calm the entire meeting, a sense of resolve filling him as they had discussed what to do, Kurt had noticed. "Maybe there was a reason for that. Ripplescale was very deliberate in their choice."
David's face transformed into a shade of sickly puce, his anger boiling over. "You sided with an alien, Keith," he hissed, the word dripping with disdain. The room grew heavy with tension, the air thick with the acrid scent of betrayal. David's voice reverberated, echoing through the room, as he continued, "You trusted an alien more than you trusted either Rebecca or I. Don't even think about trying to shift the blame onto me or my ego. This isn't about that."
"You're right that I should have trusted you more," Keith admitted with a sigh. "I just felt… I felt like saying no, or denying the offer was the absolute wrong choice. Call it instinct or a hunch, but I just knew I could trust Ripplescale, that what they were offering was real. And it wasn't powersharing that was the issue for either of you, I could tell in the moment. It was the Force. You didn't want me to have the Force, specifically. Something about it you don't like, or don't want me having."
David denied that vociferously, while Rebecca merely said, "And if we did?" Kurt and the others watched on, content to let the Triumvirate work through their issues.
"Well, that makes me damn curious what part caught both your attention so quickly. Was it the ability to sense truth and lies? I thought I trusted the both of you, but maybe I genuinely don't, push come to shove, as earlier proved. And if I don't trust either of you, well I damn sure don't trust the Numberman or Doctor Mother, or the Contessa. And if I don't trust any of you, what exactly am I doing here? So, tell me what you've been hiding from me, and let's see if we can't be honest with each other moving forward."
For the first time that night, Contessa spoke. "It's not optimal for the Path to Victory. Victory is more certain, the longer you remain ignorant," she said plainly, to the surprise of the others.
Keith leaned back in his chair, a little stunned. "There really is something you all have been hiding from me… I didn't want to believe but…" He glanced at everyone's faces.
The room fell into a profound silence, devoid of any sound. Not a single word escaped anyone's lips as a long minute stretched on. Keith's face displayed a myriad of emotional contortions, his features reflecting the invisible currents of the supposed 'Force'.
"Well," Keith spoke heavily with a sigh, breaking the silence, "is anyone going to be honest with me?"
Eyes stared back at him, some with placid indifference, others with regret or shame, or dogged stubbornness but no one spoke. Silence filled the air.
Keith stood from his chair, sliding it into the table, and said, "Since I'm obviously not welcome here, consider this my resignation. I'm done being the company mushroom, kept in the dark and fed bullshit. I have more important things to deal with, like running the Protectorate and learning the Force. Door, please. New York City."
When he was gone, Kurt grimaced, David looked about ready to explode, while Rebecca seemed at a loss for words. Only Doctor Mother and the Contessa were indifferent.
"Really Fortuna? That was the most optimal way to handle this clusterfuck with the alien? Legend, one of the Triumvirate, resigning from Cauldron? That's your solution?" Kurt asked.
"He would have left eventually, but this leaving has the smallest amount of blowback and no compromised individual in power. All he knows is there is something we're not telling him, but not any details. It could have been much worse," she replied unperturbed.
Kurt sighed, frustration evident in his voice. "I understand the need for damage control, but Legend's resignation? That's a significant loss for Cauldron. And what about the alien situation? We need a solid plan, not just secrecy."
Fortuna maintained her calm demeanor, her eyes focused on Kurt. "I assure you, Kurt, this was the best course of action. Legend's departure was inevitable, and by handling it this way, we minimize the fallout."
Kurt shook his head, his concern not fully assuaged. "But what if he becomes more suspicious about what exactly we've hidden? What if he starts digging deeper? We can't afford any loose ends."
Fortuna nodded, understanding Kurt's apprehension. "I've taken precautions, Kurt. We've planted enough breadcrumbs to keep him occupied without revealing the whole truth of Cauldron. And if he does become too curious, we have contingencies in place to handle it discreetly."
Kurt still seemed unsure, but he couldn't deny Fortuna's expertise in handling delicate situations, as grim as the idea was. "Alright, I'll trust your judgment for now. But if things go south, we'll need a backup plan."
Fortuna gave Kurt a reassuring smile. He didn't trust it. "Of course, Kurt. We always have backup plans. Let's focus on containing the fallout and finding a solution to the alien issue. We'll handle this, just like we always do. Like we must."
Kurt nodded, feeling a mix of relief and concern. He knew that Fortuna's strategic mind would guide them through this crisis, but the weight of the situation lingered in his thoughts. They had to tread carefully, for the stakes were higher than ever before. They had just lost a founding pillar, despite Keith's nature as a figurehead inside Cauldron more than anything. An alien had arrived and was squatting in the Terminus Project, and God only knows what the Enemy would do when he met the supposed Jedi.
As the meeting carried on, Kurt couldn't help but notice how effortlessly everyone accepted her response at face value. The sound of shuffling papers and murmured discussions filled the room, while the faint smell of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the clean, sterile air. He couldn't ignore the bitter taste that filled his thoughts, knowing that they no longer had to concern themselves with Keith's presence. What consequences would this hold for the Triumvirate? The Protectorate? With a sense of urgency, Kurt delved into the numbers, fully aware of their significance, trying to find a path forward.
Eidolon soured, glancing at Ripplescale with a flash of envy and disdain, before adopting a smile. "I'm sure it is a real trip, your new power."
"So, am I a fool still, playing at pretend?" Ripplescale asked from where they lay sunbathing, having let Legend enjoy his first minutes with the Force. First, he had simply stared in wonder, before laughing and crying, truly disturbing the two. Thankfully, he had somehow convinced them of his sanity.
Eidolon looked unconvinced, but they could see conviction and resolve building in Alexandria, who nodded and said, "I find it highly improbable, but aliens exist. Interdimensional travel exists. It is entirely possible universes we view as fictional are actually real places, in the multiverse's vastness. So I must concede, you are most likely a Jedi Knight, and a veteran of three years of brutal, bloody warfare, who has somehow found themselves here after a bizarre accident."
"Thank you, Alexandria. I will take that as a no, you are not a fool playing pretend," they said dryly.
Legend laughed, a happy sound. "They got you."
"Now, for you, Legend, how about you reel yourself back in with some meditation? Focus on the self, not the whole," they begin, starting with a traditional meditation they learned when they were six and first learning to expand and contract their awareness in the Force.
It took a few minutes before Legend could keep his focus tight and narrow, but far faster than any child learned. Perhaps there was some utility to awakening adult Force Sensitives, Ripplescale pondered.
"That's… that was.. That was like a religious experience. I'm just glad we won. To imagine feeling Canberra as it was walled…" He shivered, imagining the fear and terror pouring from the city, polluting the very air.
"You must remember, always, that the emotions you feel in others are not your own. But yes, I imagine that such a feeling would be quite uncomfortable, especially for someone first awakening to the Force. It was why the Younglings were all kept inside the Temple except on pre-approved trips."
They all three winced at the word Younglings and a part of Ripplescale's heart shattered in that moment. Not the Younglings, they thought. Surely not. The silence stretched. They moved on, not wanting to address the matter. They would watch and learn with Panacea. They would know soon enough. They shoved the thought away deep in their mind and let go of the sorrow pooling in their heart, dripping in slowly like a poison.
"How long should I expect to be here, before leaving for Brockton Bay?" they asked into the silence.
"Brockton Bay leaves in the next hour. Are you sure about not staying in New York City?" Legend asked, clearly wanting to move on as well.
"It would make sense to train Legend a little before heading to Brockton Bay," added Alexandria.
"It is enough that he works on controlling his focus, before trying anything else. Taking up a sword based martial arts as well. Something traditional, with a history. It will add to when he begins lightsaber training."
"You can build another," Alexandria determined. Ideas flashed to Ripplescale's mind, of bulky lightsabers attached by cords to power packs, as many types and styles for as many Force sects. Different crystals glistened and shown, far more than just Kyber, shimmering in a dozen prismatic colors.
"I can build a bulky equivalent with this planet's technology. With time and resources, I will be able to make much more," they said. "Blasters, repulsors, shields, plasteel and duracrete, even droids."
"And you will get those resources, once you sign up to the Protectorate," Alexandria said, like it was guaranteed. That made their hackles rise, red feathers fanning around their skull in an ancient threat display.
"I will not be playing the game of Capes and Robbers you three seem to think is a functional society. I will respond as I am, a Jedi Knight. And I expect you can offer those resources to me, regardless, if you have any sense. And if not, I will find them as I cut down the savages you let parade around that city you've left to rot. It would only be just and right."
"Please tell us how you truly feel," Eidolon said with an insufferable smirk. "Without that 'game' as you call it, our Earth would be a feudal warzone of Parahuman despots. Cauldron is the only thing that keeps this planet from boiling over in an orgy of violence and destruction. And please, please, carve up Brockton Bay with a lightsaber, and see how you get treated. Fucking nutzo. You two can roleplay with the insane Changer, I'm done here."
Silence filled the top of the hill as Eidolon rocketed off into the sky.
"He'll come around," Legend offered weakly. "He just doesn't like getting shown up." A pause. "If you won't join the Protectorate, will you not at least sign up as an affiliate? If one of the heroes that slayed the Simurgh isn't associated with the Protectorate, it will not look good. I understand your hesitancy to… play by the rules, as it were, given your duty, but this isn't your galaxy."
"I am willing to affiliate myself, and create my technology in a workshop provided by the PRT. But I will not be putting on a mask, pretending I am someone I am not. I understand you are doing all you can to save not only this world, but a hundred billion others. That is not excusing it, however, nor is it condoning your choices."
"If that is the best we can hope for at this juncture, then I accept," Legend said. "Keep in mind pretty much everyone will view your claims of being a Jedi Knight as ridiculous as Myrridin claiming to be a wizard. They may accept it, but they'll never believe it. They'll always talk about you behind your back."
Ripplescale bristled. "I will not be mocked for my beliefs. They will learn in time a Jedi has come to Earth Bet," they said with certainty.
Legend seemed less sure.
"I will inform Armsmaster of your desire to affiliate yourself, and that we will be offering special dispensation for a Tinker budget," Alexandria noted, "but we should really be returning, now that Eidolon has left. Knight Ripplescale, if you would follow me, I'll lead you to the Brockton Bay contingent."
Ripplescale followed her in silence, thoughts stewing on the myriad crimes of the woman, but they did not say anything. Not yet. There would be time in the future for a frank discussion with Alexandria. And Eidolon, the arrogant man fleeing what he did not understand, lashing out in anger. He would need to be watched. Men like that sometimes made terrible choices. The contingent of Brockton Bay heroes gathered in one of the open air tents around a table, relaxing and having free coffee. Miss Milita stood and greeted them, the other heroes, Dauntless, Assault and Battery, also standing and shaking their hand.
"So what brings you to Brockton Bay, mighty Endslayer?" Assault asked with a smirk. "Aren't you a Case 53? Looking to join Faultline's Crew? Or just wanting to have some fun with the local crowd, maybe play hooky with Hookwolf, or hopscotch with Lung?"
"Neither," Ripplescale said, shaking their head. "I have matters to attend to, and your city is in dire need of heroes, according to Alexandria. I can do both there."
"We could always use more heroes, and someone of your skill will be highly valuable," Battery said with a smile. "The next week should be calm, but once the Truce ends…"
"Then I shall have time to prepare. I believe Alexandria said she would prepare a workshop for my… Tinkering, you call it."
"You're a Tinker as well? Soon you'll be saying you're actually some kind of Trump," joked Dauntless.
They calmly replied, "I am. I am a power-sharer. I can nurture a spark in another, awakening them to the same power as mine."
"And what's the downside?" Assault asked warily. "Power-sharing always has a downside."
"They must learn to use the power as it grows with them. The power is dangerous in the wrong hands, and can lead to tragedy, so do not expect me to simply use it on you, if you ask," they warned.
Assault shook his head. "No need to worry on that front, bucko. I think I speak for all of us when I say I pass. Power-sharers don't have the best reputation."
"Really? Legend seemed to accept my offer quite quickly," they mused.
"Are you saying you shared your power with Legend?" Battery asked. "Why?"
"He has the right heart for it, he is a true hero."
"So none of us are true heroes?" Dauntless questioned, sounding offended.
"There is a difference between the job title, and the truth of what a hero does. As far as the question of if there are any of you I would consider gifting my power to?" they examined the heroes before them, sensing their natures with the immense power and clarity the Force had in this universe. "Yes, more than one."
"Who are the lucky winners?" Assault asked eagerly. A childish man at heart, yet a noble soul. In the Corsuca Galaxy he would never be picked, and probably would have wound up in the Exploration Corp. Neither would Dauntless, a selfish man bound to his relationship with his family. Miss Militia, she would have been an excellent Jedi, and Battery, she had the heart and drive, if she wasn't so tightly bound to Assault, their connection obvious and deep. But these heroic Parahumans were the only ones they could awaken that would have any semblance of training and discipline. Things change, and beggars cannot be choosers.
"I must admit, if I had to choose, it would be the women," they said.
Battery chuckled. "Of course. We're much more reasonable. I honestly wouldn't mind have another power. Something to keep me safe when I'm charging."
"Hun, that's my job. You'll put me out of my job!" Assault cried theatrically and Battery rolled her eyes, punching him softly.
"I appreciate the sentiment, Ripplescale, but I decline. Untested power-sharing will not be the rule I break," said Miss Milita.
"The offer will stay open in the near future," they told the group. "It need not be untested, and I am willing to share with the PRT."
The New Wave contingent arrived in the tent next, a woman who introduced herself as Lady Photon, and the man beside her as Manpower, with Panacea trailing behind them, her face lighting up when she saw Ripplescale. She stood next to them and put a hand on their flank, eyes glazing over a bit as she examined their biology.
"It's strange, there are parts of you that read completely analogous to the human body, yet you evolved in a totally different environment, and from different evolutionary trees. The fact that there's any similarity at all is surprising me, but it's giving me a baseline that helps me figure out what your other organs do," Panacea, Amy, said in a low voice, while the other heroes chattered around them.
"In case you ever need to heal me again?" Ripplescale questioned.
"Exactly! And because you're, by far, the most interesting biology I've ever seen," she said, excitedly, her fingers absently digging into their scales, scratching an itch Ripplescale had. "You're like a puzzle that's incomplete and in a different language, and I'm trying to figure out what the picture is."
"Mmm." Ripplescale let Panacea absently scratch their flank, as she delved deeper into their biology. The touch of another being felt nice, the last time someone had itched them had been Jax, on that desert world when the fine sand kept getting in their scales, irritating them. This was much more pleasant.
Then came the villains: Hookwolf, followed by a woman in a cage mask, and a man in a bulletproof vest, with chains wrapped around his arms. All three reeked of disappointment, and simmering violence. In a flash, Ripplescale understood. They expected the city to be quarantined. But why would success disappoint them?
"Hookwolf, Cricket, and Stormtiger," Miss Miltia told Ripplescale. "Members of the Empire Eighty-Eight, a white supremacist gang in Brockton Bay. Hookwolf is very dangerous."
"We've met. He called me a fag," Ripplescale said dryly.
Assault whistled. "Well, no one ever said Hookwolf didn't have balls."
"Why are they disappointed? We have won the greatest success possible, yes? Canberra was saved and the Simurgh is dead," Ripplescale asked, confused.
Miss Militia grimaced and a disgusted look came over Assault's face.
"They expected to participate in maintaining the quarantine," Miss Militia said formally.
The quarantine that all cities fallen to the Simurgh experienced, walled off and cut off from modern civilization. They understood, now, disgusted themselves. These filth expected a good time killing helpless civilians attempting to flee such a nightmare. "Is that why they came?" they asked, incredulous.
"Hookwolf comes to every Simurgh battle, and it ain't because he thinks his wolf form can do any good against the Winged Bitch," Assault muttered.
Disgusting.
Soon enough it was time to leave. They made sure to stand next to Panacea, and the girl took their arm almost eagerly. Then there was sudden popping as a cape appeared in the center of the circle. "All aboard the Strider Express to Brockton Bay." He paused. "We got everyone?"
Miss Militia said, "Yes. Good to go."
"Then three, two, one, and here. We. Go!" the man called out.
The Force seemed to twist and ripple, practically screaming at the sundering of physical laws, before suddenly they appeared in the lobby of a building, standing in a circular mosaic. And just like that, this Strider was gone, popping away.
Miss Milita approached, after Panacea finally let their arm go, and said goodbye, Ripplescale promising to visit as soon as possible for their 'movie session'.
"If you'll follow me, we'll get you to power testing, which hopefully won't take too long, and then we can register you and find you a place to rest."
They followed her down empty office corridors, thinking surely it wouldn't take too long. How wrong they were.
"Give me the damage. What are we looking at here?" Emily said to her top two capes. The clock struck four in the morning half an hour ago, signaling the end of their exhaustive seven and a half-hour power testing session. They had been working with one of the Endslayers, a cape who had successfully taken down the Simurgh. It was a curious, and frustrating, choice for them to settle in her city. This Knight Ripplescale was certain to cause trouble, simply by their mere existence. They would bring other capes to the city, looking to meet or fight the Endslayer, who would in turn cause more trouble. It was a cycle she was hoping could be beat with the news Legend shared.
Hannah, Miss Milita, spoke first, standing at attention like this was some kind of formal meeting rather than an informal breakdown. It was to be expected, though. The woman was a stickler for rules and formality. "Knight Ripplescale is a Case 53 who first appeared in Canberra. They are, after extensive testing, a Blaster/Brute/Mover/Shaker/Thinker/Trump, with multiple major power expressions. They are tentatively a Shaker 10, after they revealed not only precision and large-scale telekinesis, but the fact that their telekinesis isn't Manton Limited. They can pick up living and non-living material with the same ease. Dr. Malick couldn't believe it until he witnessed it himself."
"And this is only one of their power expressions?" Emily clarified. Full telekinesis was an entire Cape powerset by itself.
Hannah nodded sharply. "They also demonstrated blasts and beams of light, giving them a tentative Blaster rating of 4, a minor Brute rating of 3, a surprisingly high top speed in land and air netting them a tentative Mover 5, mild clairvoyance and intuition giving them a Thinker rating of 3 and claimed to power share. We did not test the last one, though Ripplescale told us in Canberra that they shared, or 'awakened' their power in Legend. I don't know the validity of the claim."
"It's true. Legend called not two hours ago to let me know to expect him near daily, as he learns his new power from Ripplescale," Emily told her.
And hadn't that been a treat? Out of the Triumvirate, the one who is closest in proximity would finally arrive in Brockton Bay, but instead of addressing the city's problems, which Legend could reach in just a five-minute flight, they were here to learn about power-sharing from a Case 53. Only Emily could be so cursed a Director.
"Then you should know Knight Ripplescale offered their power to me, and Battery as well. They have a certain criterion in who they judge worthy of power, but they did mention intending to share it," Hannah informed her.
"Then one of you will have to be the guinea pig. If this Knight of ours can turn other capes into a powerhouse Grab-Bag like themself, we might have the key to securing Brockton Bay for now and the future. What about their mentality? What were they like?"
"They carry themself with a predatory grace that is a little unsettling at first, but they are very polite and kind and patient. Any other Parahuman would have run screaming bloody murder at the number of tests they were put through, but they kept at it. They seemed bored with it all, though, and didn't talk much about themself, which makes sense, given they are a Case 53. Polite and enduring is what I'd say."
Piggot nodded. That was good news. An unstable cape with those kinds of powers, with organic telekinesis… She didn't want to think about the kind of damage they could do, the bloody reign they'd wreak before they were taken down. Hannah sat back down.
Colin, Armsmaster, spoke next. "Knight Ripplescale is a Tinker with an unknown specialty, the only known Tinkertech they used being the laser sword they helped kill the Simurgh with, destroyed in the process. They built what they called a 'power pack,' a backpack sized power source that operated on a mixture of common gasses heated into plasma providing a stable and powerful electric flow. When I worked with them, I found them to be far more knowledge about the mechanical engineering of their work than the average, or even above-average Tinker. They even expressed a few basic scientific principles behind the workings of their Tinkertech—which I and the power scientists will have to study and verify—but based on the single test case I made while they finished their work, I believe the principles are sound."
"And what does that mean, exactly?" Emily asked. To her, it sounded like gibberish.
"Like Dragon's work, I believe it may lead to mass-reproducible production techniques, and new technologies. I believe we should analyze any blueprint they create and see if we cannot reproduce new scientific techniques from them. If we could get them to record explanations of the mechanical processes, then that would be a boon as well."
"You think our grab-bag is another Dragon?" Dragon. The Tinker who could translate Tinkertech into real world discovery and progress, advancing science and industry by years and decades. A priceless cape, and it was only one of Ripplescale's powers. What else were they? Secretly Eidolon's Case 53 lovechild? Emily thought, exasperated.
"Time will tell but I truly think they might be another Dragon, yes."
"So, yet another reason everyone will want them, and yet another reason we need to get them into the Protectorate. I've been told Knight Ripplescale will be receiving their own Tinker budget, before testing finished. I want you to make sure they have a workshop set up by before the end of the day, and everything they need by the time the Truce ends. New York City is providing the discretionary budget for this, so go hog wild."
Colin grinned for a moment like a child told he can have any candy he wishes, before resuming his calm, polite front.
"Yes, ma'am."
"And Hannah, see if Joslyn wishes to 'awaken' a Shaker 10 rating. If she does, I want her as a primary contact point with this Knight of ours. If not, we'll have to rely on you."
"I will do my duty, ma'am," Hannah said with a nod.
"As expected."
They took it as the dismissal it was, and left the office. Once they left Emily sighed and laid back in her chair, relaxing, rubbing her temples were a headache was forming. A power-sharing grab-bag Trump with maybe-reproducible tech, who was a Case 53. Might as well put a big flashing sign that said 'Kidnap Me' by coming to Brockton Bay. At least Legend arriving daily should deter anyone from any blatant action, if only for a while.
"What were you thinking, Keith? Truly, what were you thinking, accepting that thing's offer," David asked, exasperated, a hint of disgust in his voice.
They were in one of the many meeting rooms in Cauldron, a blank white room with a round table in the middle, all the nominal heads of Cauldron there to address the matter of Knight Ripplescale. It had been a contentious meeting so far.
David continued. "We all know I didn't kill the Simurgh, but the world doesn't know that, cannot know that. We can't tell them a supposed Jedi that literally fell out the sky managed to do what the Triumvirate couldn't. A frankly extremely fucking suspicious thing, and don't force the Infinite Worlds bullshit on me again, Keith! I know you and Becky are convinced, but I'm not. And we can't tell them you're running off to learn to become at a fake Jedi at their alien feet. But you didn't think of that before you made your choice, did you? Well, is your pretend Force worth it? Is being bound to an alien worth it?"
"What are you really upset about? That he didn't choose you, the great Eidolon?" Keith said in a mellow tone, calmly watching the proceedings. He had been noticeably calm the entire meeting, a sense of resolve filling him as they had discussed what to do, Kurt had noticed. "Maybe there was a reason for that. Ripplescale was very deliberate in their choice."
David's face transformed into a shade of sickly puce, his anger boiling over. "You sided with an alien, Keith," he hissed, the word dripping with disdain. The room grew heavy with tension, the air thick with the acrid scent of betrayal. David's voice reverberated, echoing through the room, as he continued, "You trusted an alien more than you trusted either Rebecca or I. Don't even think about trying to shift the blame onto me or my ego. This isn't about that."
"You're right that I should have trusted you more," Keith admitted with a sigh. "I just felt… I felt like saying no, or denying the offer was the absolute wrong choice. Call it instinct or a hunch, but I just knew I could trust Ripplescale, that what they were offering was real. And it wasn't powersharing that was the issue for either of you, I could tell in the moment. It was the Force. You didn't want me to have the Force, specifically. Something about it you don't like, or don't want me having."
David denied that vociferously, while Rebecca merely said, "And if we did?" Kurt and the others watched on, content to let the Triumvirate work through their issues.
"Well, that makes me damn curious what part caught both your attention so quickly. Was it the ability to sense truth and lies? I thought I trusted the both of you, but maybe I genuinely don't, push come to shove, as earlier proved. And if I don't trust either of you, well I damn sure don't trust the Numberman or Doctor Mother, or the Contessa. And if I don't trust any of you, what exactly am I doing here? So, tell me what you've been hiding from me, and let's see if we can't be honest with each other moving forward."
For the first time that night, Contessa spoke. "It's not optimal for the Path to Victory. Victory is more certain, the longer you remain ignorant," she said plainly, to the surprise of the others.
Keith leaned back in his chair, a little stunned. "There really is something you all have been hiding from me… I didn't want to believe but…" He glanced at everyone's faces.
The room fell into a profound silence, devoid of any sound. Not a single word escaped anyone's lips as a long minute stretched on. Keith's face displayed a myriad of emotional contortions, his features reflecting the invisible currents of the supposed 'Force'.
"Well," Keith spoke heavily with a sigh, breaking the silence, "is anyone going to be honest with me?"
Eyes stared back at him, some with placid indifference, others with regret or shame, or dogged stubbornness but no one spoke. Silence filled the air.
Keith stood from his chair, sliding it into the table, and said, "Since I'm obviously not welcome here, consider this my resignation. I'm done being the company mushroom, kept in the dark and fed bullshit. I have more important things to deal with, like running the Protectorate and learning the Force. Door, please. New York City."
When he was gone, Kurt grimaced, David looked about ready to explode, while Rebecca seemed at a loss for words. Only Doctor Mother and the Contessa were indifferent.
"Really Fortuna? That was the most optimal way to handle this clusterfuck with the alien? Legend, one of the Triumvirate, resigning from Cauldron? That's your solution?" Kurt asked.
"He would have left eventually, but this leaving has the smallest amount of blowback and no compromised individual in power. All he knows is there is something we're not telling him, but not any details. It could have been much worse," she replied unperturbed.
Kurt sighed, frustration evident in his voice. "I understand the need for damage control, but Legend's resignation? That's a significant loss for Cauldron. And what about the alien situation? We need a solid plan, not just secrecy."
Fortuna maintained her calm demeanor, her eyes focused on Kurt. "I assure you, Kurt, this was the best course of action. Legend's departure was inevitable, and by handling it this way, we minimize the fallout."
Kurt shook his head, his concern not fully assuaged. "But what if he becomes more suspicious about what exactly we've hidden? What if he starts digging deeper? We can't afford any loose ends."
Fortuna nodded, understanding Kurt's apprehension. "I've taken precautions, Kurt. We've planted enough breadcrumbs to keep him occupied without revealing the whole truth of Cauldron. And if he does become too curious, we have contingencies in place to handle it discreetly."
Kurt still seemed unsure, but he couldn't deny Fortuna's expertise in handling delicate situations, as grim as the idea was. "Alright, I'll trust your judgment for now. But if things go south, we'll need a backup plan."
Fortuna gave Kurt a reassuring smile. He didn't trust it. "Of course, Kurt. We always have backup plans. Let's focus on containing the fallout and finding a solution to the alien issue. We'll handle this, just like we always do. Like we must."
Kurt nodded, feeling a mix of relief and concern. He knew that Fortuna's strategic mind would guide them through this crisis, but the weight of the situation lingered in his thoughts. They had to tread carefully, for the stakes were higher than ever before. They had just lost a founding pillar, despite Keith's nature as a figurehead inside Cauldron more than anything. An alien had arrived and was squatting in the Terminus Project, and God only knows what the Enemy would do when he met the supposed Jedi.
As the meeting carried on, Kurt couldn't help but notice how effortlessly everyone accepted her response at face value. The sound of shuffling papers and murmured discussions filled the room, while the faint smell of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the clean, sterile air. He couldn't ignore the bitter taste that filled his thoughts, knowing that they no longer had to concern themselves with Keith's presence. What consequences would this hold for the Triumvirate? The Protectorate? With a sense of urgency, Kurt delved into the numbers, fully aware of their significance, trying to find a path forward.
Adullahan
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The Cosmic Force is more wide reaching and powerful than the PtV IMHO. Don't expect Contessa to be fighting precog battles with Ripplescale though, given the shared origin of their shards. The Eye sees a brother-in-arms in Ripplescale's Shard, not an enemy.
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There's definitely going to be some tension with how a Jedi operates compared to capes. Maiming is foundational to lightsaber combat and against the Unwritten Rules, for example.
Chapter 4
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Adullahan
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And here we have the origin of this story. The idea of Victoria and Amy settling in to watch Star Wars with a Jedi. An idea I originally thought was funny, until I realized exactly how upsetting those movies would be to someone *from* the Corsuca Galaxy, especially a Jedi. Everything fell into place from there.
Feb 25th
Victoria was excited. Amy was finally bringing a friend over and it was the freaking dinosaur guy, the Endslayer! She had seen the pictures, the shaky videos, and the internet speculations, and now she would see the real thing, like out of Jurassic Park. And that wasn't even the craziest thing!
Knight Ripplescale, the Endslayer and newest Brockton Bay cape, wasn't human. Hadn't been human, like the poor Case 53s. According to Amy, they were an alien, who claimed to be a Jedi Knight. And Amy, bizarrely enough, kind of believed them. It was ludicrous, of course. A Jedi? But Amy seemed pretty sure, and laid down some harsh rules, which meant that there would be no making fun of Ripplescale's role-playing, or any spoilers, or making Order 66 jokes. Victoria was to treat the movie marathon like someone's first time watching Star Wars.
There was a knock on the door, and Victoria raced through the air to answer it, yelling, "I'll get it!" over Amy's frustrated, "Wait!"
She slammed open the door, grinning, only to stop and stare at how big Ripplescale was in real life. They stood maybe six feet tall, a feathered theropod with the signature sickle-shaped claws of a velociraptor clicking nervously, their tail whipping back and forth. They wore a leather harness and a plain brown cloak, but otherwise freely showed off their beautiful blue and white scales in a wavy pattern and their bright red feathers, running down their back and covering the top of their body. Their three eyes, two on either side and one on their forehead facing forward, were bright actinic blue with white slits, and they made sure to keep their mouth closed as they smiled, before speaking in perfect English, "You must be Victoria."
"That's me! And you must be Knight Ripplescale! Amy, your friend's here!"
Amy tramped down the stairs, wearing nicer clothes than she had been all day. Wow, she must really want to impress them!
"I heard the doorbell, Vicky! Hey, Knight Ripplescale," she said, a little shyly. "Come in, I made sure we have plenty of citrus fruits and red meat, in case you're planning on staying and watching the whole thing through."
She was not going to lie to herself, watching the living velociraptor walk into her home, brushing past her, made her scared. Something about the graceful, predatory movement, the clicking of the claws on the wood, and the strange dry smell of them triggered warning reflexes buried deep in her hindbrain.
"Vicky, aura!"
She slammed down on her aura, horrified. She had just assaulted the Endslayer with a Parahuman power! "Oh my god, I'm so, so sorry."
"You need not to worry, young one. A Jedi's mind is a great fortress. If the Simurgh could not penetrate it, neither will your power. Your aura is like a gentle breeze compared to the hyperstorm of the Simurgh," Ripplescale said kindly to her.
Still she felt like, super embarrassed. "I'm really sorry, I should be better at controlling it."
"Have you tried mediation? An ordered mind rarely leads to disorder."
"Can't sit still that long," she admitted.
"For Jedi whom traditional mediation does not work, often use a moving meditation based on their preferred lightsaber form. Perhaps something similar?"
She hadn't ever heard of that. "Like Tai Chi?"
They looked confused. "I am unfamiliar with much of your world, you will have to explain."
"Oh, its like a meditative martial art. Old people like to do it."
"Then perhaps there is some wisdom in it," they said, before making a strange whistling sound.
"Let's get out of the foyer," Amy interjected, reaching over and grabbing Victoria. "You, go get the Aleph Prequels and the Bet Original Box set. We'll grab snacks and drinks. Meet me in the back room."
Victoria grumbled, but did as the boss ordered, dashing into the darkened living room to grab the stuff, greeting her dad who sat watching the news blankly. It was a moderately bad day today.
"Hey, honey. Did I hear Amy was having a friend over?" he asked absently.
"Yeah, we're watching Star Wars. They've never seen."
He perked at that, like she knew he would. "They've never seen Star Wars? Where have they been?"
"In a galaxy, far far away," she joked, and Dad laughed, light coming into his eyes.
"Well, perhaps I'll have to come by and watch."
"You're welcome. We're going to try to watch everything, so Amy's friend will be staying for dinner."
Dad frowned. "Your mother has nothing planned, was she aware of company?"
"We told her a friend of Amy's was coming over." But not who. It was going to be so funny when Mom and Dad find out her new friend was the Endslayer!
"Well, let me call her, and see what she wants to do about dinner. It's still early so plans can change."
Giggling to herself at the total freakout Mom was going to have, Victoria floated her way back to the back room, where the old TV and the long couches lay, perfect for laying down and watching movie after movie. She found Ripplescale nestled on one of the couches, their tail curled around them, snacking on a piece of raw bacon, while Amy explained the different soda options the back room fridge had.
"I'll have the Squirt. A tangy, citrus beverage sounds most pleasant, Amy. Victoria, have you acquired the media?"
"Yup!" she said cheerfully. "So which are we starting with first, Ames. Original or Prequel."
"Prequel. They need to understand the reason why. Victoria, I was serious when I told you Ripplescale is a Jedi Knight. They died in Order 66. They don't know." She looked as serious, deadly serious, as Victoria had ever seen Ames.
It made her take a step back and reconsider all this. If she thought about it, from the perspective of Ripplescale really being who they pretended they were, then what was about to happen would not be a fun marathon, but a revelation of terrible tragedy, and mass death, of cultural and religious genocide on a galactic scale. She suddenly no longer felt quite so happy go lucky about this whole day. Either they were really a Jedi, and so would have a horrible time watching as their way of life was destroyed so utterly and throughly that only two Jedi remained, old, withered remnants of who they used to be. Or they were roleplaying, and would inflict a terrible time on Victoria and Amy pretending to be upset. Either way, not exactly a fun time.
"Oh," Victoria finally said.
"Yes," Amy replied dryly. "Oh." Then she turned to Ripplescale. "Do Sauraptorians cry?"
"We lack the gland many sentients have to cry, but we do mourn. You expect me to mourn." It was a statement, not a question. Victoria's stomach squirmed, as she put the Phantom Menace in the DVD slot, before turning the TV on.
Noise blared loudly, the TV on MTV. She reached for remote and turned it down, before switching the input to DVD. Then the screen displayed the DVD menu for Aleph Phantom Menace, including behind the scenes and deleted scenes. Given that usually the two of them were the only ones back here, they each got a couch, but today, with the Jedi in the room, they would get to snuggle! Amy had no idea what was coming to her.
"Come on Ames," she said as she flopped onto the couch. "Grab your snacks and get over here!"
"Actually, I'll sit with Ripplescale. I want to observe their biology as they watch. I think I'll learn a lot," Amy said, a little shyly.
Victoria did not pout, as she nodded. "Fine, fine. Leave your big sis lonely and cold. Shall we begin?"
"Let us get this started with. I have abstained from interacting with others in the past day while I waited to watch this… movie." Ripplescale said the word strangely, like they were unfamiliar with the term.
"First one's a little wacky, but its loads better than ours. And ours only get worse, while these get better," Victoria said, before realizing she was talking to someone who conceivably might have been in the events of the movies. "Sorry, sorry, I'll stop commenting. Still trying to get used to the whole 'Jedi are real' thing."
"Would a fresh orange slice provide a modicum of truth?" they asked, as they gestured with their hand and a whole orange floated up, before it peeled and divided itself. Victoria's mouth gaped, and Amy's eyes widened from where she sat next to Ripplescale, a hand on their tail.
""Oh my god!""
"You go first, Ames." That was so freaking cool.
"The symbiotic bacteria that I thought didn't do anything, they reacted when Ripplescale used the Force! They feed off of it, or use it, somehow. I cannot quite tell how. Do it again."
With a casual motion, the orange slices began to dip and dive, dancing around an ever changing center point. It was a level of skill she had never seen or heard of from a telekinetic. Ever. But they had to have a Manton Limit right?
"That is very very cool. But you have a Manton Limit, right? No living things?"
They made a barking cough that sounded viscerally similar to some of the sounds the raptors made in Jurassic Park. Which actually, was kind of cool, once Victoria got over her brief flare of fear. The raptors were scary, okay? Cool, but scary.
"No, I have no Manton Limit. I could dance you and Amy through the air like dolls. I find myself more powerful here than I ever was back in the Corsuca Galaxy."
"Do it, if you can," she said teasingly. If they were roleplaying, this would be the moment to find out. Manton Limits were very real and very much a part of powers. And if they weren't…
"May I, Amy?" Ripplescale asked.
Amy sat there before nodding. "Yes."
And then an invisible cloud engulfed her and picked her up, moving her through the air. Amy too floated by her, wide-eyed. "Oh. My. GOD Ames!" she squealed, reaching out to hug her sister close to her. "We're in a room with a real life Jedi!" Then she turned to look at the theropod resting on the couch and said, "Sorry for not totally believing you. You can put us down now, though!"
They let out another one of those coughs. "Very well."
Once they were all settled, Victoria started the movie. Ripplescale made occasional comments on the accuracy of the various species—far too many of the near-human species did not look nearly as strange as they would in reality apparently—and the accuracy of the lightsaber combat, but mostly watched intently, snacking occasionally, using the Force to deliver themself food.
They made it far, into the second movie, before they had to pause for dinner, right as Anakin beheaded two Tusken raiders.
"Please don't tell me… not the children, too," Ripplescale said, horror in their voice.
"Then we won't tell you. Just watch the movie. You'll learn, soon enough," said Amy, sadly. "But Mom's calling us. It's time to face the music."
"Whatever does that phrase mean?" they asked.
"It means we didn't tell her we were having a… well, you look like a dinosaur, from back before humans existed. She'll probably have a bit of a freakout," Victoria explained. "We're pranking her."
"Ah, I see. Pranking your parents with a nonhuman friend. It happens often enough in mass media. I shall play my part. Just have me come in last."
And so, the stage was set. Victoria and Amy entered from stage left into the dining room, where Dad was setting the table. "Hey girls, where's your friend?"
"Oh, they're just washing up," Amy said. "We had some bacon as a snack, they're a real red meat kind of person."
"That would have been good to know Amy Dallon, as would your friend coming over, but thankfully there were a number of steaks in the freezer. What's their name, anyway?" Mom said, as she entered in with a platter of steaks.
From behind Mom, came Ripplescale. "You may call me Ripplescale, Mrs. Dallon," they said, while Dad's eyes widened and his mouth moved but no sound came out. Mom had set the platter down and turned, before letting out a shriek, and transforming into her Breaker state, bouncing backwards before reappearing, drawing weapons made of burning orange plasma.
"MOM!" Victoria shouted at her, and Carol blinked, before warily releasing them. Then she took a second look, and recognition filled her eyes and she flushed.
"I am so, so sorry, Knight Ripplescale, I did not recognize you but from pictures and Sarah's descriptions. I did not mean to threaten you, and I apologize profusely," she said effusively, before her voice got chilly. "Amy, Victoria, if you would come with me for a moment, I'd like to speak with the two of you alone."
She took them upstairs to her room and closed the door.
"What were you two thinking, not telling me we have the Endslayer in our home?! Who knows what strange Case 53 biology he has that we have to worry about! You could have prepared me and your father for this."
"One, Mom, it was funny! Two, Amy knows. She's been getting all close and comfortable with them. Three, we could have, but again, funny. And four, it's not he, its them. Ripplescale uses they/them pronouns."
Carol rolled her eyes. "Oh, for Christ's sake, fine. Them. And its not funny, Ripplescale could have been hurt by me."
Victoria couldn't help snickering at that, and both Amy and Carol gave her the Look. "I don't think you need to worry about that, Mom. Knight Ripplescale can handle themself. They fought the Simurgh and won."
Carol ignored that fact. "Don't think you two aren't in trouble for this. I haven't heard an apology yet, Amy."
"For what? Bringing a friend over whose body non-conforming?" Amy asked with a sarcastic bite.
"For not letting me know you were bringing a friend over at all," Carol said harshly.
Victoria was incredulous. "Mom! Ames and I both told you she was having a friend over tonight."
At that Carol looked a bit flustered. "Did you? Well, you're still in trouble for… for scaring me. That is completely unacceptable. Both of you will be grounded for the next three days, and I mean literally and figuratively. No flying, Victoria Dallon. Now lets go down and have a nice meal with your… friend. Where ever did you meet Ripplescale?"
"Healed them, gave them their right hand back after they lost it in the final blow," Amy said, a bit smug. "Gave them some advice and invited them to watch Star Wars with us. They've never seen it."
"Oh," Mom said dismissively. She had never seen it, after falling asleep to the first movie. "Star Wars. Well, I suppose you shall have fun. I expect your father will be joining you, if you continue. He always likes that sort of thing."
They trooped back downstairs, where Ripplescale was talking quietly with Dad, who looked quite serious. Their conversation ended as the rest of the Dallon family entered the room, and Dad turned to grin at Victoria.
"You really got me honey. Did not expect to see a velociraptor come out of our kitchen. So what's the damage?"
Mom answered. "Your daughters are grounded for the next three days. No flight, no friends, no fun."
"Three days, Carol? That's a bit unreasonable. Surely one day would suffice," he said, surprisingly. Usually he went along with punishments, or made a token protest, not a counteroffer. Even Mom looked surprised.
That made her stop and reconsider. And she reluctantly nodded. "One day of grounding. Still literal and figurative. No flying tomorrow, Victoria. Use your legs like the rest of us do."
Dad gave a bright grin at Mom, looking more awake than he had when they left. Guess the prank must have scared him into a good mood! "Thanks, hun. I don't know about you all, but I'm feeling pretty dang hungry. Let's be seated."
Dinner was far less fractious, as used it as a platform to wax poetic about the accomplishments of New Wave, leading up to a less than stealthy fishing. "Have you found a hero team you wish to join yet?"
"I am looking to start my own… Order, you could say. Have the girls told you my origin?"
"You're a Case 53, are you not?" Mom asked, confused.
"In a way. But I remember my life before. I have no amnesia or tattoo. But I am not from this Earth. I come from an order of powered martial artists, who combine spirituality with their powers."
"Are you claiming Case 53s are from other Earths?" Dad said, sounding intrigued.
"Yes. I am certain they are, but I have no proof," Ripplescale admitted.
"So you were some kind of Cape monk, back on your Earth?" he asked.
"Back where I am from, I am what you on Earth Bet would call a Cape monk, yes," Ripplescale said, never lying once.
"And you want to establish this order of yours, in Brockton Bay?"
"And beyond, eventually. Legend is already a member, though he is the barest Youngling. Not even an Initiate."
"Legend joined an order of spiritual capes? That seems unlikely," Mom said dismissively. "Are you certain he understood what you were asking?"
"I will ask him next time he arrives for his teachings," Ripplescale said simply.
"Can anyone join?" asked Dad.
"No, only those with a strong enough resolution and heart can walk the Path without falling to Darkness in a world like this. I will not take just anyone. Out of the Triumvirate, only Legend could truly walk the Path of the Light. There are others as well I have met I am considering," they said, and their eyes flickered towards Amy.
Ohmigod. Could Ripplescale make other people Jedi? Was he like Teacher, but good? That's amazing! And did he want to make Amy a Jedi? It made sense. Amy was like, the greatest hero ever with all the healing she's done. She'd be perfect as a Jedi, and once she got into shape, they could cape together! It would be perfect. But she mustn't spoil the surprise for Amy. She quieted her mind and listened back in.
"—are we talking about? There are a lot of different things that call themselves spirituality."
"I will explain in a catechism we teach Initiates. Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Light."
Dad looked slightly confused, but Mom nodded along. "I assume this Light is some kind of nebulous, all-encompassing goodness?" she asked, nailing it. You go, Mom!
"Its part of an energy field that binds all life, from the smallest bacterium, to thinking life, to the grandest of animals. Powers tap into that energy field when they are used, but used in anger, in passion and in selfishness, it twists you to the Darkness. When they are used for selflessness, and others, in kindness and compassion and generosity, you bend towards the Light."
Mom nodded again, like it made any sense, while Dad looked increasingly confused, like someone was playing a prank. "An admirable philosophy. I assume you are part of an order of Light? And that you fought an order of Darkness?"
"Yes, you understand the nature of these things," Ripplescale nodded, their feathers rustling.
"Well, the Parahuman dynamic must come out one way or another, and I assume there are other Earths with as many Parahumans as us. How many of your order were there?"
"A little under ten thousand, the last that I knew. We were fighting a war against machines led by the order of Darkness."
"Ten thousand, that's…. that's far more than the PRT. So many…" Carol said, amazed. "So you were fighting a war before you arrived?"
"For three long years. Be glad you do not have to fight wars here, with powers. They are bloody, awful affairs. I had just been betrayed by what I thought were loyal soldiers, when I fell through the sky above Canberra."
A somber mood fell, and Carol looked like she wished she hadn't asked.
"I did not mean to ruin the table talk. I am actually happy to finally away from that cursed war. This world may have its issues, but all out war is not one of them. I think I will find it peaceful to clean the streets and teach Younglings."
"You deserve some rest," Amy said seriously.
"Thank you, Amy," they said, sounding pleased, "I intend to once I am certain this world will not end."
And that was a bombshell to drop. The Jedi thought the world was going to end?! Did they have a dream about it or a vision? "Uh, what?" asked Victoria. "End of the world?"
"A global civilization cannot sustain itself while being under attack by powered megafauna at the current rate," Ripplescale explained. "It's a simple matter of scientific fact. I need to make sure the other two Endbringers die as well."
Whew. Just some depressing statistic stuff and a suicide mission, no vision needed.
"Without your Tinkertech sword, how do you intend to?" asked Mom.
"I am a Tinker, and currently in the process of rebuilding a prototype. It will take a while before I'm back to making a weapon as elegant as my last blade, but they will suffice for the time being. I have a lot I need to rebuild."
"A Tinker as well?" Dad whistled. "You must be a Grab-Bag cape."
"You could say that," they demurred.
Talk then went on about powers, and Ripplescale's many powers, all of which, they claimed, were enhanced the more sunlight they got. "With enough sunlight, I could be a Blaster as powerful as Legend and a Brute as tough as Alexandria. Perhaps a month, or half a year's worth."
That sent disbelieving chuckles from the parents, but Ames and her looked at each other. Jedi don't lie, and this one was saying they was going to be Triumvirate tier.
Dinner finished, and Dad said, "Well, I'm just about ready to sit down and watch some Star Wars."
Mom rolled her eyes and sighed. "I've got some cases to finish. Don't stay up too late."
They tramped back to the room, settled down, and started watching again. Victoria wasn't sure it was going to be nearly as fun as Dad thought. She was proven right, soon enough.
"I… I killed them. I killed them all," Anakin was saying, a look of slight confusion on face as if he wasn't quite sure how it happened. "They're dead. Every single one of them."
Ripplescale keened, their feathers rustling, murmuring, "Please, no. Anakin, no."
"And not just the men…" Anakin said slowly, shaking his head, a grimace on his face, pacing forwards as it was Padme's turn to look confused. "But the women…" he said shakily, a tightness gathering in his throat, "And the children too."
The Jedi let out a distressed hiss, their feathers pulled tight against their scales, as Amy soothed them.
"How? How could this happen, and no one knew? How could no Jedi tell his hands were polluted with the blood of innocents? How could Grandmaster Yoda sense the feelings, the disturbance yet do nothing, not even a slap on the wrist?"
Meanwhile, Anakin half-sobbed about animals and hatred, while Padme looked on before trying to comfort him. Soon, Amy wasn't even watching the movie, whispering quietly with Ripplescale, petting their flank while Dad looked oddly uncomfortable about the whole situation. Ripplescale's mood ebbed and flowed, trending worse as time went on and the endgame of the Sith slowly revealed itself, turning utterly black and bitter by the end as Order 66 played across the screen, and remained so through the Original Trilogy, where they barely seemed to pay attention, seemingly lost in their own thoughts and the occasional discussion with Amy.
When Knight Ripplescale left, Amy stood in the doorway and watched them go under the light of the streetlamps, worriedly gnawing her lip, and Victoria waited for her sister. Amy didn't move til Ripplescale was long gone into the night.
"Do you think they'll be okay?" she finally asked Victoria, sliding in for a hug.
"I hope so, Ames. I really hope so," Victoria told her, as she held her sister tight.
Feb 25th
Victoria was excited. Amy was finally bringing a friend over and it was the freaking dinosaur guy, the Endslayer! She had seen the pictures, the shaky videos, and the internet speculations, and now she would see the real thing, like out of Jurassic Park. And that wasn't even the craziest thing!
Knight Ripplescale, the Endslayer and newest Brockton Bay cape, wasn't human. Hadn't been human, like the poor Case 53s. According to Amy, they were an alien, who claimed to be a Jedi Knight. And Amy, bizarrely enough, kind of believed them. It was ludicrous, of course. A Jedi? But Amy seemed pretty sure, and laid down some harsh rules, which meant that there would be no making fun of Ripplescale's role-playing, or any spoilers, or making Order 66 jokes. Victoria was to treat the movie marathon like someone's first time watching Star Wars.
There was a knock on the door, and Victoria raced through the air to answer it, yelling, "I'll get it!" over Amy's frustrated, "Wait!"
She slammed open the door, grinning, only to stop and stare at how big Ripplescale was in real life. They stood maybe six feet tall, a feathered theropod with the signature sickle-shaped claws of a velociraptor clicking nervously, their tail whipping back and forth. They wore a leather harness and a plain brown cloak, but otherwise freely showed off their beautiful blue and white scales in a wavy pattern and their bright red feathers, running down their back and covering the top of their body. Their three eyes, two on either side and one on their forehead facing forward, were bright actinic blue with white slits, and they made sure to keep their mouth closed as they smiled, before speaking in perfect English, "You must be Victoria."
"That's me! And you must be Knight Ripplescale! Amy, your friend's here!"
Amy tramped down the stairs, wearing nicer clothes than she had been all day. Wow, she must really want to impress them!
"I heard the doorbell, Vicky! Hey, Knight Ripplescale," she said, a little shyly. "Come in, I made sure we have plenty of citrus fruits and red meat, in case you're planning on staying and watching the whole thing through."
She was not going to lie to herself, watching the living velociraptor walk into her home, brushing past her, made her scared. Something about the graceful, predatory movement, the clicking of the claws on the wood, and the strange dry smell of them triggered warning reflexes buried deep in her hindbrain.
"Vicky, aura!"
She slammed down on her aura, horrified. She had just assaulted the Endslayer with a Parahuman power! "Oh my god, I'm so, so sorry."
"You need not to worry, young one. A Jedi's mind is a great fortress. If the Simurgh could not penetrate it, neither will your power. Your aura is like a gentle breeze compared to the hyperstorm of the Simurgh," Ripplescale said kindly to her.
Still she felt like, super embarrassed. "I'm really sorry, I should be better at controlling it."
"Have you tried mediation? An ordered mind rarely leads to disorder."
"Can't sit still that long," she admitted.
"For Jedi whom traditional mediation does not work, often use a moving meditation based on their preferred lightsaber form. Perhaps something similar?"
She hadn't ever heard of that. "Like Tai Chi?"
They looked confused. "I am unfamiliar with much of your world, you will have to explain."
"Oh, its like a meditative martial art. Old people like to do it."
"Then perhaps there is some wisdom in it," they said, before making a strange whistling sound.
"Let's get out of the foyer," Amy interjected, reaching over and grabbing Victoria. "You, go get the Aleph Prequels and the Bet Original Box set. We'll grab snacks and drinks. Meet me in the back room."
Victoria grumbled, but did as the boss ordered, dashing into the darkened living room to grab the stuff, greeting her dad who sat watching the news blankly. It was a moderately bad day today.
"Hey, honey. Did I hear Amy was having a friend over?" he asked absently.
"Yeah, we're watching Star Wars. They've never seen."
He perked at that, like she knew he would. "They've never seen Star Wars? Where have they been?"
"In a galaxy, far far away," she joked, and Dad laughed, light coming into his eyes.
"Well, perhaps I'll have to come by and watch."
"You're welcome. We're going to try to watch everything, so Amy's friend will be staying for dinner."
Dad frowned. "Your mother has nothing planned, was she aware of company?"
"We told her a friend of Amy's was coming over." But not who. It was going to be so funny when Mom and Dad find out her new friend was the Endslayer!
"Well, let me call her, and see what she wants to do about dinner. It's still early so plans can change."
Giggling to herself at the total freakout Mom was going to have, Victoria floated her way back to the back room, where the old TV and the long couches lay, perfect for laying down and watching movie after movie. She found Ripplescale nestled on one of the couches, their tail curled around them, snacking on a piece of raw bacon, while Amy explained the different soda options the back room fridge had.
"I'll have the Squirt. A tangy, citrus beverage sounds most pleasant, Amy. Victoria, have you acquired the media?"
"Yup!" she said cheerfully. "So which are we starting with first, Ames. Original or Prequel."
"Prequel. They need to understand the reason why. Victoria, I was serious when I told you Ripplescale is a Jedi Knight. They died in Order 66. They don't know." She looked as serious, deadly serious, as Victoria had ever seen Ames.
It made her take a step back and reconsider all this. If she thought about it, from the perspective of Ripplescale really being who they pretended they were, then what was about to happen would not be a fun marathon, but a revelation of terrible tragedy, and mass death, of cultural and religious genocide on a galactic scale. She suddenly no longer felt quite so happy go lucky about this whole day. Either they were really a Jedi, and so would have a horrible time watching as their way of life was destroyed so utterly and throughly that only two Jedi remained, old, withered remnants of who they used to be. Or they were roleplaying, and would inflict a terrible time on Victoria and Amy pretending to be upset. Either way, not exactly a fun time.
"Oh," Victoria finally said.
"Yes," Amy replied dryly. "Oh." Then she turned to Ripplescale. "Do Sauraptorians cry?"
"We lack the gland many sentients have to cry, but we do mourn. You expect me to mourn." It was a statement, not a question. Victoria's stomach squirmed, as she put the Phantom Menace in the DVD slot, before turning the TV on.
Noise blared loudly, the TV on MTV. She reached for remote and turned it down, before switching the input to DVD. Then the screen displayed the DVD menu for Aleph Phantom Menace, including behind the scenes and deleted scenes. Given that usually the two of them were the only ones back here, they each got a couch, but today, with the Jedi in the room, they would get to snuggle! Amy had no idea what was coming to her.
"Come on Ames," she said as she flopped onto the couch. "Grab your snacks and get over here!"
"Actually, I'll sit with Ripplescale. I want to observe their biology as they watch. I think I'll learn a lot," Amy said, a little shyly.
Victoria did not pout, as she nodded. "Fine, fine. Leave your big sis lonely and cold. Shall we begin?"
"Let us get this started with. I have abstained from interacting with others in the past day while I waited to watch this… movie." Ripplescale said the word strangely, like they were unfamiliar with the term.
"First one's a little wacky, but its loads better than ours. And ours only get worse, while these get better," Victoria said, before realizing she was talking to someone who conceivably might have been in the events of the movies. "Sorry, sorry, I'll stop commenting. Still trying to get used to the whole 'Jedi are real' thing."
"Would a fresh orange slice provide a modicum of truth?" they asked, as they gestured with their hand and a whole orange floated up, before it peeled and divided itself. Victoria's mouth gaped, and Amy's eyes widened from where she sat next to Ripplescale, a hand on their tail.
""Oh my god!""
"You go first, Ames." That was so freaking cool.
"The symbiotic bacteria that I thought didn't do anything, they reacted when Ripplescale used the Force! They feed off of it, or use it, somehow. I cannot quite tell how. Do it again."
With a casual motion, the orange slices began to dip and dive, dancing around an ever changing center point. It was a level of skill she had never seen or heard of from a telekinetic. Ever. But they had to have a Manton Limit right?
"That is very very cool. But you have a Manton Limit, right? No living things?"
They made a barking cough that sounded viscerally similar to some of the sounds the raptors made in Jurassic Park. Which actually, was kind of cool, once Victoria got over her brief flare of fear. The raptors were scary, okay? Cool, but scary.
"No, I have no Manton Limit. I could dance you and Amy through the air like dolls. I find myself more powerful here than I ever was back in the Corsuca Galaxy."
"Do it, if you can," she said teasingly. If they were roleplaying, this would be the moment to find out. Manton Limits were very real and very much a part of powers. And if they weren't…
"May I, Amy?" Ripplescale asked.
Amy sat there before nodding. "Yes."
And then an invisible cloud engulfed her and picked her up, moving her through the air. Amy too floated by her, wide-eyed. "Oh. My. GOD Ames!" she squealed, reaching out to hug her sister close to her. "We're in a room with a real life Jedi!" Then she turned to look at the theropod resting on the couch and said, "Sorry for not totally believing you. You can put us down now, though!"
They let out another one of those coughs. "Very well."
Once they were all settled, Victoria started the movie. Ripplescale made occasional comments on the accuracy of the various species—far too many of the near-human species did not look nearly as strange as they would in reality apparently—and the accuracy of the lightsaber combat, but mostly watched intently, snacking occasionally, using the Force to deliver themself food.
They made it far, into the second movie, before they had to pause for dinner, right as Anakin beheaded two Tusken raiders.
"Please don't tell me… not the children, too," Ripplescale said, horror in their voice.
"Then we won't tell you. Just watch the movie. You'll learn, soon enough," said Amy, sadly. "But Mom's calling us. It's time to face the music."
"Whatever does that phrase mean?" they asked.
"It means we didn't tell her we were having a… well, you look like a dinosaur, from back before humans existed. She'll probably have a bit of a freakout," Victoria explained. "We're pranking her."
"Ah, I see. Pranking your parents with a nonhuman friend. It happens often enough in mass media. I shall play my part. Just have me come in last."
And so, the stage was set. Victoria and Amy entered from stage left into the dining room, where Dad was setting the table. "Hey girls, where's your friend?"
"Oh, they're just washing up," Amy said. "We had some bacon as a snack, they're a real red meat kind of person."
"That would have been good to know Amy Dallon, as would your friend coming over, but thankfully there were a number of steaks in the freezer. What's their name, anyway?" Mom said, as she entered in with a platter of steaks.
From behind Mom, came Ripplescale. "You may call me Ripplescale, Mrs. Dallon," they said, while Dad's eyes widened and his mouth moved but no sound came out. Mom had set the platter down and turned, before letting out a shriek, and transforming into her Breaker state, bouncing backwards before reappearing, drawing weapons made of burning orange plasma.
"MOM!" Victoria shouted at her, and Carol blinked, before warily releasing them. Then she took a second look, and recognition filled her eyes and she flushed.
"I am so, so sorry, Knight Ripplescale, I did not recognize you but from pictures and Sarah's descriptions. I did not mean to threaten you, and I apologize profusely," she said effusively, before her voice got chilly. "Amy, Victoria, if you would come with me for a moment, I'd like to speak with the two of you alone."
She took them upstairs to her room and closed the door.
"What were you two thinking, not telling me we have the Endslayer in our home?! Who knows what strange Case 53 biology he has that we have to worry about! You could have prepared me and your father for this."
"One, Mom, it was funny! Two, Amy knows. She's been getting all close and comfortable with them. Three, we could have, but again, funny. And four, it's not he, its them. Ripplescale uses they/them pronouns."
Carol rolled her eyes. "Oh, for Christ's sake, fine. Them. And its not funny, Ripplescale could have been hurt by me."
Victoria couldn't help snickering at that, and both Amy and Carol gave her the Look. "I don't think you need to worry about that, Mom. Knight Ripplescale can handle themself. They fought the Simurgh and won."
Carol ignored that fact. "Don't think you two aren't in trouble for this. I haven't heard an apology yet, Amy."
"For what? Bringing a friend over whose body non-conforming?" Amy asked with a sarcastic bite.
"For not letting me know you were bringing a friend over at all," Carol said harshly.
Victoria was incredulous. "Mom! Ames and I both told you she was having a friend over tonight."
At that Carol looked a bit flustered. "Did you? Well, you're still in trouble for… for scaring me. That is completely unacceptable. Both of you will be grounded for the next three days, and I mean literally and figuratively. No flying, Victoria Dallon. Now lets go down and have a nice meal with your… friend. Where ever did you meet Ripplescale?"
"Healed them, gave them their right hand back after they lost it in the final blow," Amy said, a bit smug. "Gave them some advice and invited them to watch Star Wars with us. They've never seen it."
"Oh," Mom said dismissively. She had never seen it, after falling asleep to the first movie. "Star Wars. Well, I suppose you shall have fun. I expect your father will be joining you, if you continue. He always likes that sort of thing."
They trooped back downstairs, where Ripplescale was talking quietly with Dad, who looked quite serious. Their conversation ended as the rest of the Dallon family entered the room, and Dad turned to grin at Victoria.
"You really got me honey. Did not expect to see a velociraptor come out of our kitchen. So what's the damage?"
Mom answered. "Your daughters are grounded for the next three days. No flight, no friends, no fun."
"Three days, Carol? That's a bit unreasonable. Surely one day would suffice," he said, surprisingly. Usually he went along with punishments, or made a token protest, not a counteroffer. Even Mom looked surprised.
That made her stop and reconsider. And she reluctantly nodded. "One day of grounding. Still literal and figurative. No flying tomorrow, Victoria. Use your legs like the rest of us do."
Dad gave a bright grin at Mom, looking more awake than he had when they left. Guess the prank must have scared him into a good mood! "Thanks, hun. I don't know about you all, but I'm feeling pretty dang hungry. Let's be seated."
Dinner was far less fractious, as used it as a platform to wax poetic about the accomplishments of New Wave, leading up to a less than stealthy fishing. "Have you found a hero team you wish to join yet?"
"I am looking to start my own… Order, you could say. Have the girls told you my origin?"
"You're a Case 53, are you not?" Mom asked, confused.
"In a way. But I remember my life before. I have no amnesia or tattoo. But I am not from this Earth. I come from an order of powered martial artists, who combine spirituality with their powers."
"Are you claiming Case 53s are from other Earths?" Dad said, sounding intrigued.
"Yes. I am certain they are, but I have no proof," Ripplescale admitted.
"So you were some kind of Cape monk, back on your Earth?" he asked.
"Back where I am from, I am what you on Earth Bet would call a Cape monk, yes," Ripplescale said, never lying once.
"And you want to establish this order of yours, in Brockton Bay?"
"And beyond, eventually. Legend is already a member, though he is the barest Youngling. Not even an Initiate."
"Legend joined an order of spiritual capes? That seems unlikely," Mom said dismissively. "Are you certain he understood what you were asking?"
"I will ask him next time he arrives for his teachings," Ripplescale said simply.
"Can anyone join?" asked Dad.
"No, only those with a strong enough resolution and heart can walk the Path without falling to Darkness in a world like this. I will not take just anyone. Out of the Triumvirate, only Legend could truly walk the Path of the Light. There are others as well I have met I am considering," they said, and their eyes flickered towards Amy.
Ohmigod. Could Ripplescale make other people Jedi? Was he like Teacher, but good? That's amazing! And did he want to make Amy a Jedi? It made sense. Amy was like, the greatest hero ever with all the healing she's done. She'd be perfect as a Jedi, and once she got into shape, they could cape together! It would be perfect. But she mustn't spoil the surprise for Amy. She quieted her mind and listened back in.
"—are we talking about? There are a lot of different things that call themselves spirituality."
"I will explain in a catechism we teach Initiates. Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Light."
Dad looked slightly confused, but Mom nodded along. "I assume this Light is some kind of nebulous, all-encompassing goodness?" she asked, nailing it. You go, Mom!
"Its part of an energy field that binds all life, from the smallest bacterium, to thinking life, to the grandest of animals. Powers tap into that energy field when they are used, but used in anger, in passion and in selfishness, it twists you to the Darkness. When they are used for selflessness, and others, in kindness and compassion and generosity, you bend towards the Light."
Mom nodded again, like it made any sense, while Dad looked increasingly confused, like someone was playing a prank. "An admirable philosophy. I assume you are part of an order of Light? And that you fought an order of Darkness?"
"Yes, you understand the nature of these things," Ripplescale nodded, their feathers rustling.
"Well, the Parahuman dynamic must come out one way or another, and I assume there are other Earths with as many Parahumans as us. How many of your order were there?"
"A little under ten thousand, the last that I knew. We were fighting a war against machines led by the order of Darkness."
"Ten thousand, that's…. that's far more than the PRT. So many…" Carol said, amazed. "So you were fighting a war before you arrived?"
"For three long years. Be glad you do not have to fight wars here, with powers. They are bloody, awful affairs. I had just been betrayed by what I thought were loyal soldiers, when I fell through the sky above Canberra."
A somber mood fell, and Carol looked like she wished she hadn't asked.
"I did not mean to ruin the table talk. I am actually happy to finally away from that cursed war. This world may have its issues, but all out war is not one of them. I think I will find it peaceful to clean the streets and teach Younglings."
"You deserve some rest," Amy said seriously.
"Thank you, Amy," they said, sounding pleased, "I intend to once I am certain this world will not end."
And that was a bombshell to drop. The Jedi thought the world was going to end?! Did they have a dream about it or a vision? "Uh, what?" asked Victoria. "End of the world?"
"A global civilization cannot sustain itself while being under attack by powered megafauna at the current rate," Ripplescale explained. "It's a simple matter of scientific fact. I need to make sure the other two Endbringers die as well."
Whew. Just some depressing statistic stuff and a suicide mission, no vision needed.
"Without your Tinkertech sword, how do you intend to?" asked Mom.
"I am a Tinker, and currently in the process of rebuilding a prototype. It will take a while before I'm back to making a weapon as elegant as my last blade, but they will suffice for the time being. I have a lot I need to rebuild."
"A Tinker as well?" Dad whistled. "You must be a Grab-Bag cape."
"You could say that," they demurred.
Talk then went on about powers, and Ripplescale's many powers, all of which, they claimed, were enhanced the more sunlight they got. "With enough sunlight, I could be a Blaster as powerful as Legend and a Brute as tough as Alexandria. Perhaps a month, or half a year's worth."
That sent disbelieving chuckles from the parents, but Ames and her looked at each other. Jedi don't lie, and this one was saying they was going to be Triumvirate tier.
Dinner finished, and Dad said, "Well, I'm just about ready to sit down and watch some Star Wars."
Mom rolled her eyes and sighed. "I've got some cases to finish. Don't stay up too late."
They tramped back to the room, settled down, and started watching again. Victoria wasn't sure it was going to be nearly as fun as Dad thought. She was proven right, soon enough.
"I… I killed them. I killed them all," Anakin was saying, a look of slight confusion on face as if he wasn't quite sure how it happened. "They're dead. Every single one of them."
Ripplescale keened, their feathers rustling, murmuring, "Please, no. Anakin, no."
"And not just the men…" Anakin said slowly, shaking his head, a grimace on his face, pacing forwards as it was Padme's turn to look confused. "But the women…" he said shakily, a tightness gathering in his throat, "And the children too."
The Jedi let out a distressed hiss, their feathers pulled tight against their scales, as Amy soothed them.
"How? How could this happen, and no one knew? How could no Jedi tell his hands were polluted with the blood of innocents? How could Grandmaster Yoda sense the feelings, the disturbance yet do nothing, not even a slap on the wrist?"
Meanwhile, Anakin half-sobbed about animals and hatred, while Padme looked on before trying to comfort him. Soon, Amy wasn't even watching the movie, whispering quietly with Ripplescale, petting their flank while Dad looked oddly uncomfortable about the whole situation. Ripplescale's mood ebbed and flowed, trending worse as time went on and the endgame of the Sith slowly revealed itself, turning utterly black and bitter by the end as Order 66 played across the screen, and remained so through the Original Trilogy, where they barely seemed to pay attention, seemingly lost in their own thoughts and the occasional discussion with Amy.
When Knight Ripplescale left, Amy stood in the doorway and watched them go under the light of the streetlamps, worriedly gnawing her lip, and Victoria waited for her sister. Amy didn't move til Ripplescale was long gone into the night.
"Do you think they'll be okay?" she finally asked Victoria, sliding in for a hug.
"I hope so, Ames. I really hope so," Victoria told her, as she held her sister tight.
Last edited:
Chapter 5
New
Adullahan
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Feb 26th
It was past two am when they left the Dallon home and started walking, their thoughts stuck, twisting and turning in their mind, trapped in a labyrinthian knot of unsettled emotion and turmoil.
The Sith. It always came down to the Sith. Well, there were no Sith here to whisper poison in a scared man's ears. There were no Sith to orchestrate grand wars and genocides. No Sith to corrupt the Republic into the Empire amidst cheers and admiration, a sight that burned in Ripplescale's mind. No Sith to turn the greatest Jedi Knight on the battlefield into a mechanical monstrosity and little better than an executioner of Jedi. There were no Sith at all, only humans ever being human, squabbling over a single planet as the end ticked ever closer. An end they all knew was coming. They gave a bitter, mocking laugh at it all. The galaxies 'dominant species' couldn't even get off its own kriffing planet, stuck by alien megafauna they simply had no technology that could deal with.
Well, that should change soon enough. A simple hyperdrive on a stick pointed and aimed correctly should kill an Endbringer. It would also happen to destroy everything around the Endbringer, so there were definitely situational uses for such technology. But simple gravionics and Surface-To-Space Planes should be enough to escape the prison of Earth Bet's gravity well. Enough to establish bases on the Moon and Earth-Moon libration points. From there, simple hyperdrives will turn the Solar system into Earth's backyard, and nearby stars possibilities. The Simurgh was dead, and the Solar System free. It would be the beginnings of a Golden Age, after the decades-long Parahuman Nightmare.
Then their thoughts traveled back to what they had seen. And what they hadn't needed to see.
The Younglings.
They dry heaved at the thought, at the blood spilt for absolutely nothing, their dinner having long been thrown up when they first realized what was going to happen. An embarrassing and humiliating experience that paused the movie while the Dallon's cleaned up and Ripplescale emptied their stomach into the closest toilet, their agitated tail whipping knocking over personal grooming supplies. They were sure they had burned any goodwill with Mark they gained from boiling away the depressive fog that hung around the man, as he had mopped up their sick, giving them a look of frustration and confusion. It had made their skin burn with shame thinking about it still. They'd always had a weak stomach, even as a clutchling, they just hadn't thought they would need to worry about it and eaten their fill of the underseasoned meat. Foolish. They should have expected something like the massacre.
Oh, Ripplescale knew why the massacre of the Younglings happened. Understood the horrid, awful logic of it all. If Anakin could do that sickening act, he could do anything, anything the Sith desired. He had been free, and he went right back to a Master, became a slave and all for nothing. He had killed his own wife, for the Light's sake. It was all so pointless and tragic, and most of all; it was preventable. No, Anakin was not the only one who failed. Yoda failed Anakin. Obi-Wan failed Anakin. The Order failed Anakin. And when push came to shove, he fell and fell harder and faster than any other, always the one for grand statements. A harsh bark of laughter tore itself from their lips once more, startling a nightbird into flight over the empty street. It was all they could do. If they didn't laugh, they would mourn. If they mourned, they would shiver and wail a high keening sound, between low barking coughs, a noise that unsettles many a sentient, especially humans.
How many of Ripplescale's future students will fall, they wondered, flashes of yellow eyes haunting them as they walked through the night. How many will they have to kill? Instinct, or the Force, tells them it'll be more than one. Their heart feels heavy already, full and near leaking. Is this truly what they have to expect? For a moment, everything is silent and they listen. Its early or late enough that some birds have started chirping.
And then, oh then, there was the 'New Hope'. After being neglected for nineteen years, Anakin's son was presented with a lightsaber and given the directive to terminate his own father, Darth Vader. What were Master Kenobi and Grandmaster Yoda thinking? Had things truly gotten so desperate that they forced patricide on the shoulders of their last padawan, an untrained farmboy? Perhaps so. Perhaps if Ripplescale had survived Captain Jax and fled to the Outer Rim, they would have turned as gnarled and bitter and twisted as those two old men, and sent off young men to their death with the same ease.
Perhaps that's what too much sorrow does, twists and gnarls you until you don't recognize yourself anymore. Ripplescale could barely comprehend surviving the death of the Jedi Order. They cannot imagine what it was like for the Grandmaster, to lose everything, and live, when so many died. Perhaps that explains his choices. Certainly explains Master Kenobi's abject failure to do anything to connect or teach the boy, until far too late.
Unlike in the Prequels, the absence of non-humanoid aliens in the Original Trilogy had a distinct and unresolved quality that couldn't be easily dismissed as humans lacking the proper talent or imagination. There was something the Force hinted at, yet shied away from explicating. Something terrible happened in those nineteen years. Ripplescale's awareness of the profoundly unsettling and enigmatic event was limited to subtle suggestions conveyed through the Force. Flashes of images of high walls and camps, and a strange black angular shape like a cross where each arm bent, forming a clockwise pinwheel on a circle of white and a rectangle of red. They would have to ask what such a symbol meant, but they were certain it meant nothing good.
As their stomach twisted at distant implications, they found themself in front of a park, empty this late. The park was lonely and cold in the faded yellow lights of streetlamps, yet a place of life inside a grey, decrepit city, a green space to get their head back on straight, to settle their aching, weary heart. It was something they desperately needed.
For an hour Knight Ripplescale simply lay on the grass staring up at the unfamiliar stars, and slowly went through their emotions, acknowledging them and releasing them into the Force. They were right to feel everything they felt. Justified in their despair and anger and fear, their disgust and confusion and soul-deep weariness, and most of all, their sense of betrayal.
Death had been a constant companion these past years, but that didn't mean seeing Ki-Adi-Mundi, Mace Windu, Shaak Ti and so many others perish didn't affect them, even if they were being played by humans in bad costumes. The Force had sung with the truth of the matter. Order 66 was very real, Ripplescale had experienced it firsthand.
But wallowing in such feelings wouldn't help Ripplescale or anyone else on Earth Bet. They had to be understood and released. Unfortunately, it wasn't nearly enough. They wanted to hit something or scream, still. Wanted to shake Grandmaster Yoda and throttle Master Kenobi.
So they stood and ran through the Form I katas, slowly, glacially, feeling every movement of Shii-Cho in their newly healed limbs and taking tens of minutes. Then again, faster this time, moving through at a regular pace. Then again, lightning quick, feeling the Force flowing through them as they wove their body through the sinuous motions. Then they did the same with Form II, Makashi. By the time they reached Form V, Djem So, the sun had been up for an hour and a crowd had gathered on the edges of the park, filming them. Ripplescale did not mind. Let the public enjoy the spectacle. They had a lot to work out. If they imagined it the elder Skywalker against their imaginary blade sometimes and themself winning, it was an indulgence they let themselves experience.
Of course, eventually the PRT showed up. Battery came out of the van alone and walked over.
"So you didn't come back last night, after leaving the Dallons. Made a few people worried," she said carefully.
Ripplescale bristled a little at the implication they had done something wrong, feathers fanning their face. "I believe I have the right to spend my days and nights how I please," they said stiffly, "but I appreciate the worry. I am not without defenses, however."
"What are you doing, if you don't mind me asking?" she questioned in a curious tone.
"I am working out my feelings and then releasing them. I find moving meditation quite helpful with anger and frustration."
"Do you mind if I watch? These people aren't bothering you, are they?"
"No, of course not. Let them watch and film to their heart's content."
Observing from a nearby bench, Battery witnessed the completion of Form VII. Ripplescale had knowledge and experience in both Juyo and Vaapad, but they considered the idea of consistently utilizing either form, particularly without the guidance and monitoring of other Jedi, to be unwise. Therefore, they opted for the only somewhat safer alternative of Vaapad and ultimately returned to practicing Shii-Cho. When they finished with the Form I set, they stopped, and knelt on the grass, facing the sun and meditated once more on the Jedi Code, finding themselves lingering on the Initiate's Mantra, the former Jedi Code.
A code from a bygone era, when the world was less complicated. A code Parahumans could reasonably adhere to. A code lonely Jedi could follow with any amount of reasonability. They nodded, accepting the choice easily. There was a time for tradition and a time for change. This was a time for change.
Battery knelt in the grass next to them, brimming with curiosity, excitement, doubt. "Legend told me," she said quietly. "I don't mean to interrupt, but would you mind teaching me what you're doing? How you are meditating? I… You said before, you would choose me. I want to know why."
They opened their third eye and rolled their head over their flank to gaze at her. "It is good to ask questions. Do you believe Legend?"
"Well, yes. The circumstance in which he spoke to me almost guaranteed it must be the truth. He says you know about them. About Cauldron." The last is whispered dead quiet.
"I am aware of their activities." It was said a tad bit colder than they intended.
Her heart beat faster. "You don't approve?"
They let out a whistling sigh. "There are reasons why I must tolerate them. But if you knew only some of what they've done… But that matters not, today. So you believe. I presume Cauldron asked you to spy on me."
She nodded. "And so did the PRT."
They let out a sibilant giggle at that. "Ah well, I suppose you are fit for the task, then."
"What, uh did that noise mean, Knight Ripplescale? If you don't mind me asking."
"Please do, I will not be offended. I am a nonhuman on a human-dominant world. I shouldn't expect you to be able to read my body language. That was a giggle, for humans."
"Oh! You think its funny. That's good. That's good. What task?"
Ripplescale smiled closed-lipped at her. "I'm working on updating what it means to be a Jedi in this world, and I wanted to run by a potential Jedi Code you would be following."
"Oh, a, a new code? That you expect me to follow?" Battery asked, sounding surprised.
"Yes," they nodded. "If you are going to be a Force User, you will follow the Code. The Dark Side is very real and very dangerous. Any and all defenses against its insidious nature will be required of you."
"Of course, I'm still just trying to wrap my head around all this being real, and needing to be considered. But go ahead, let me hear the Code," Battery said, curious yet uncertain.
"Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force."
To her credit she considered it for over a minute before speaking. They would have liked a little longer thinking, but this was not the Temple. These people had lives to live, and things to do outside of philosophy. Unfortunately, it was practical philosophy that would save the lives of new Force users.
"I don't think I quite understand it, but I don't see anything wrong with it, necessarily. But how can one be ignorant, yet knowledgeable?" Battery asked, confused.
"You can be ignorant of the dangers that lay around you, yet knowledgeable that the Force will guide your step. The Force is in all things, and the Force is all things. With the Force to guide you, all things are possible. And so, even in our ignorance, we have the knowledge of the Force."
"I think I need to have the Force to actually get it," admitted Battery. "That doesn't seem possible."
"With the Force, the impossible is possible. But you must experience to believe, and believe to experience. That will come later. You foresee no insurmountable difficulties adhering those maxims?"
"I… No, I like to think I keep a cool head, even in battle. Have to. Having to stand still to get your power to work, just watching others go in, makes you have to consider and think. The part about death, that's… both harder and easier. To know there's something genuinely good after all this, is freeing. But I think, I don't know how I'd handle certain people's deaths, even knowing."
"Death is always hard. Never easy. Not even three endless years of them made them any easier. Life will be different for you, having the Force. It is not a power you can turn off. You can adjust your focus, your attention, but its always there. You'll read people's emotions and mental states, maybe even their nature, just by passing by them. You'll feel the city when it mourns and when it fears and when it celebrates, as if it were a great lumbering beast or a storm system. You'll feel the grass growing and the birds in flight, the intricate wonders of nature, the interconnectedness of us all and this planet, and the stars beyond. It is a heavy burden and a wondrous miracle, the Force."
"That sounds… Legend made it seem like a dream. But I suppose you get the good with the bad. I can't imagine how New York City must feel. Makes me worried, about how Brockton Bay feels."
"We shall have to make sure we awaken you in a green space, far from people. Cities can be overwhelming," Ripplescale noted.
"You still haven't said why you chose me," Battery asked carefully.
"You have a heroic disposition and a calm, rational demeanor. You are familiar with learning how to use powers. Instinct."
"Instinct," she repeated, disbelieving.
"Trusting your instinct is very important. It is one of the method's the Force uses to deliver intuition. Yet you must not rely on them solely. Of course, that for much later. For now, though, simply consider the Code, while I finish my meditation. I shall not be much longer."
"Take your time," Battery protested. "If I'm needed, they'll let me know."
They finished after a half hour, feeling much more settled. "Thank you for your patience. I'm ready to leave now." The crowd had ebbed, but some still lingered, watching, as the two left the park together.
Ripplescale could fit inside the van with Battery, though probably not many more could without things becoming cramped, given their size.
"How was the Dallon's?" Battery asked into the silence.
"The Dallon's themselves were a delight. The evening was wearing and long, though. We watched Star Wars. The Prequels and the Original Trilogy."
Battery's eyes widened. "Oh. That must have been… difficult and strange."
"Your depictions of aliens are far too human-centric, and your lightsaber combat is silly. But to know it was all a Sith trap from the very beginning… That the entire Order fell because of the actions of a Sith given the levers of power…" They shook their head and ruffled their feathers mournfully. "We were blind. Buffoons stumbling in a dark room, never sensing the assailant coming closer. We were fools. Worst of all, we were arrogant. We had thought our enemies long dead, and we forgot and it cost us everything."
Battery's mouth moved a couple times, before she settled on, "I'm sorry. I truly am. But there's more than just the movies. There are books. They call it the Extended Universe. There's a whole new Jedi Order, lead by Luke Skywalker, the son of Anakin. The Jedi Order lives on."
"There is some comfort in knowing that. Less that I'd like. That doesn't change the Younglings."
Thinking about it made their heart ache fiercely, made their stomach seize and their throat burn. They had been glad for the comforting presence of Amy laying against their bulk in that moment, even as they had thrown up all over the Dallon's wooden floor from the stress of understanding the sheer horror of what Anakin had done. It didn't matter that the vid's scene had been quiet and bloodless. They had been sick because they knew it was true. They had needed and still needed the touch of another being or to hit something, or both, but they kept themselves calm, focusing on the moment and releasing their frustration.
Battery winced, her face paling as a rush of understanding washed over her like icy water. "I understand completely now why you needed to work out anger." The van rattled over a bump, before smoothing out.
"I will need to work on it regularly. Is there a green space near the PRT building I can use?"
"My husband would probably make a joke about Tai Chi right about now," she said with some fondness, "but yes, Cavalier Park is two blocks west, and open 24/7."
"Good, I was thinking about making a regular ritual of greeting the morning sun. Work out my anger and frustration through katas. Keep myself regulated and maintain my combat effectiveness, while preparing for teaching my own… Initiates," they said, deciding that certain words had become taboo.
"I'm sure that will be perfectly fine, but PR would love to film you if you let them know. I know you're not a member of the Protectorate, but I don't think it would matter. Might be interesting to do sometime. They'd probably want to interview you though."
Interviews… They'd probably have to explain their nature as a Jedi in Cape terms again, like they had at the Dallons, not wanting to turn dinner into a spectacle. "I am familiar with interviews. I do not mind giving one. I have been working on a backstory that is true but palatable for Earth Bet, before I am ready to reveal to all and sundry I am truly a Jedi."
"Oh, let me hear it," Battery asked excitedly.
"I am not a simple Case 53. I remember my life before I arrived on Earth Bet. I was a member of an order of militant Parahuman monks who followed the Light of the Path. We believe that there is an energy field that bind all life together, from the smallest bacterium to the grandest animal, and all people as well and empowers one's power. This energy field, this Path of Life has two directions; to bend to the Light, or fall to the Dark. I was wounded in a war against an order of Darkness, before suddenly appearing in the skies above Canberra."
"Militant Parahuman monks, huh?" Battery mused.
"Carol Dallon seemed to find the remixing of the Hero/Villain dynamic into spiritual warfare par for the course for another Earth. Of course I never told her I was from Earth, she simply assumed. And I told her Legend joined my new Order I'm establishing. She didn't believe it, of course."
Battery snorted. "Of course she didn't believe it. It sounds ridiculous despite being true. We'll have to get proper names down for your backstory, some more details, maybe a couple stories from your life remade into Earth-Ripple."
"I'd rather not lie, so maybe no stories. Or only war stories, sanitized." The face of Captain Jax, cold as he discharged his weapon into Ripplescale's chest. Order 66. So many dead in three years. The light of the galaxy going out, never to return. A lonely Luke Skywalker, the last of the Jedi; a half-trained weapon meant to kill his father, not restore the Jedi. They pushed the images from their mind and let out a whistling sigh, rustling their feathers. "Or maybe not that, even. I'm fine with being secretive."
"It's not like they can do anything more than ask. You are entirely in your rights to not answer."
"Do you know of symbols? The Force gave me one. If I described one to you, would you recognize it?" they asked Battery.
"Maybe," she hedged.
They described the symbol, and the high walled camps, with barracks and smokestacks. Battery took a moment to place what they are talking about, but slowly explained an event called the Holocaust. A little over 70 years ago, a government began the mass killing of an entire ethnic group of humans, called Jews, after a long period of persecution. They made work camps, concentration camps, for them, working them to death. When that wasn't fast enough, they gassed them and burn them in ovens. They killed two-thirds of the local population before they were stopped.
With this revelation, Ripplescale comprehended the full extent of exactly what had transpired across numerous worlds in the former Galactic Republic, the Empire, affecting not just one, but possibly hundreds of sentient species known to the Galaxy. They had thought they were done, that they were finished with the heartbreaking knowledge that made them want to do anything but understand and accept.
"Why... why do you ask?" Battery questioned, finally, after she finished her macabre tale.
They took a deep shuddering breath, unable to stop a low keen. "I... I was curious, I suppose." A pause. "The Force showed me that symbol when I questioned why there were no aliens that didn't follow the human body plan in A New Hope."
Battery takes a moment to realize what that means, but she gets it quickly enough. "You think... you think the Empire killed them all?"
"I don't think, I know. The Force showed me that symbol and those camps for a reason. The Empire is committing genocide. And instead of being somewhere I can help, I'm here. On Earth Bet." Disdain leaked into their voice, and they had to throttle it.
Battery still caught it. The rest of the ride was quiet, as they chased their tail in their mind, imagining the shining urban jungles of Sauryx empty, or worse, filled with just humans. It was an image they couldn't get out of their mind. They needed something to do, something to distract them.
The van gradually decelerated, coming to a gentle halt. They stepped out into the cramped confines of the smaller garage on the Rig, the Protectorate Headquarters. The converted oil rig now stood as a formidable fortress, adorned with a shield generator emitting a faint hum and strategically placed missile emplacements.
"Your workshop is fully ready now, so Armsmaster wanted to walk you through," Battery told them. Armsmaster met them halfway there, and took over, greeting Ripplescale with enthusiasm, and not a little Tinker worship. Apparently his own recreations of the power pack were turning out to not be Tinkertech, at least as far as the strictures of the PRT went. That meant the power packs didn't need to be turned over for examination and approval, they could be used in the field at any time. Armsmaster was ecstatic. They tried to match their energy and just couldn't.
They recognized all the tools, as versions flitted through their brain, ancient versions to Ripplescale yet far more advanced than these. And it would be easy to make them as well, while Armsmaster had spent so much making sure they got the best tools. "Armsmaster, would you be offended if I used these tools by taking them apart to make new tools?"
He laughed heartily and clapped their flank. "That's the point, Ripplescale. You truly are a Tinker. That's why I got you the best ones. Should give you a step up, maybe even skip a few steps. Any questions? Any additions you need?"
"Thank you, Armsmaster. This is truly a gift and I appreciate you doing it on such short notice. Crystals actually. All kinds and geodes, natural if possible. I need samples of metals and different gasses. I have the ability to convert common materials into tinker materials," they said as they began to tear down the first tool in front of them, eager to escape thoughts of the Empire and Anakin.
"Crystals, geodes, metals and gasses. The Protectorate would be glad to provide. Anything else?"
"Be sure to send my blueprints to your Dragon. I believe she can get much from them."
"Already have. She's fascinated by your power pack. Claims it could scale enough to power her mecha, so you already have a fan," Armsmaster said with a soft grin.
"Good, I am aware of the good work she does." And will need to make a trip to Newfoundland to deal with some horrible people, before they decide to pull the trigger.
"I'll be sure to tell her."
Armsmaster left them to get to work.
They meticulously worked on the tools, carefully transforming them into their Corsuca equivalent. The clanging of metal against metal reverberated through the workshop as they skillfully crafted each blueprint. Hours slipped away as they focused intently on the task at hand. Their dedication to detail was evident in every stroke of the hammer and every twist of the wrench. With precision and expertise, they shaped the tools, ensuring that each one mirrored its Corsuca counterpart flawlessly.
The rhythmic symphony of clanging metal filled the workshop, resonating with a sense of purpose and determination. Time seemed to lose its grip as they immersed themselves wholeheartedly in the art of crafting. Each blueprint was meticulously followed, bringing the envisioned design to life. Hours slipped away, unnoticed, as their concentration remained unyielding. They were consumed by the task at hand, their focus unwavering. Every tool was honed to perfection, every detail meticulously attended to. Finally, as the last stroke was made, they stepped back to admire their work. The tools were now in the style of the Ancient Corsuca Galaxay, their transformation complete. With a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction, they knew that their efforts would bring them one step closer to ending the Endbringers and finding a solution for the Worm.
As they delved into the realm of lightsabers, a sense of disappointment washed over them. The name itself seemed inadequate when they observed its reliance on a modified power pack and cable, hindering its mobility and range. It lacked the essence of a true lightsaber, resembling more of a protosaber. Undeterred, they set their sights on crafting a sleek handle specifically designed for the effortless maneuvering required in Form I and Form II, Shii-Cho and Makashi. With their scaled and feathered hands coated in grease and sweat, they toiled throughout the night, constructing the casing and intricate focusing mechanisms. The air was infused with the tangy scent of metal and the crackling hint of ozone, as they diligently utilized the power pack they had already created. Immersed in their work, their thoughts were consumed, shielding them from any intrusive distractions.
Only in the moments before sleep did the weight of their contemplations seep in, haunting them like a relentless pack of feathered pyx-hounds. The Sith and their machinations, the Worm and its inevitable turn, the exhausted, rundown city they found themself in, and the dying world they were stuck on, the Empire and its plans, and what they could possibly do about it; these and more ran through their head. Finally, they found fitful rest, their body exhausted from a night of tireless labor.
It was past two am when they left the Dallon home and started walking, their thoughts stuck, twisting and turning in their mind, trapped in a labyrinthian knot of unsettled emotion and turmoil.
The Sith. It always came down to the Sith. Well, there were no Sith here to whisper poison in a scared man's ears. There were no Sith to orchestrate grand wars and genocides. No Sith to corrupt the Republic into the Empire amidst cheers and admiration, a sight that burned in Ripplescale's mind. No Sith to turn the greatest Jedi Knight on the battlefield into a mechanical monstrosity and little better than an executioner of Jedi. There were no Sith at all, only humans ever being human, squabbling over a single planet as the end ticked ever closer. An end they all knew was coming. They gave a bitter, mocking laugh at it all. The galaxies 'dominant species' couldn't even get off its own kriffing planet, stuck by alien megafauna they simply had no technology that could deal with.
Well, that should change soon enough. A simple hyperdrive on a stick pointed and aimed correctly should kill an Endbringer. It would also happen to destroy everything around the Endbringer, so there were definitely situational uses for such technology. But simple gravionics and Surface-To-Space Planes should be enough to escape the prison of Earth Bet's gravity well. Enough to establish bases on the Moon and Earth-Moon libration points. From there, simple hyperdrives will turn the Solar system into Earth's backyard, and nearby stars possibilities. The Simurgh was dead, and the Solar System free. It would be the beginnings of a Golden Age, after the decades-long Parahuman Nightmare.
Then their thoughts traveled back to what they had seen. And what they hadn't needed to see.
The Younglings.
They dry heaved at the thought, at the blood spilt for absolutely nothing, their dinner having long been thrown up when they first realized what was going to happen. An embarrassing and humiliating experience that paused the movie while the Dallon's cleaned up and Ripplescale emptied their stomach into the closest toilet, their agitated tail whipping knocking over personal grooming supplies. They were sure they had burned any goodwill with Mark they gained from boiling away the depressive fog that hung around the man, as he had mopped up their sick, giving them a look of frustration and confusion. It had made their skin burn with shame thinking about it still. They'd always had a weak stomach, even as a clutchling, they just hadn't thought they would need to worry about it and eaten their fill of the underseasoned meat. Foolish. They should have expected something like the massacre.
Oh, Ripplescale knew why the massacre of the Younglings happened. Understood the horrid, awful logic of it all. If Anakin could do that sickening act, he could do anything, anything the Sith desired. He had been free, and he went right back to a Master, became a slave and all for nothing. He had killed his own wife, for the Light's sake. It was all so pointless and tragic, and most of all; it was preventable. No, Anakin was not the only one who failed. Yoda failed Anakin. Obi-Wan failed Anakin. The Order failed Anakin. And when push came to shove, he fell and fell harder and faster than any other, always the one for grand statements. A harsh bark of laughter tore itself from their lips once more, startling a nightbird into flight over the empty street. It was all they could do. If they didn't laugh, they would mourn. If they mourned, they would shiver and wail a high keening sound, between low barking coughs, a noise that unsettles many a sentient, especially humans.
How many of Ripplescale's future students will fall, they wondered, flashes of yellow eyes haunting them as they walked through the night. How many will they have to kill? Instinct, or the Force, tells them it'll be more than one. Their heart feels heavy already, full and near leaking. Is this truly what they have to expect? For a moment, everything is silent and they listen. Its early or late enough that some birds have started chirping.
And then, oh then, there was the 'New Hope'. After being neglected for nineteen years, Anakin's son was presented with a lightsaber and given the directive to terminate his own father, Darth Vader. What were Master Kenobi and Grandmaster Yoda thinking? Had things truly gotten so desperate that they forced patricide on the shoulders of their last padawan, an untrained farmboy? Perhaps so. Perhaps if Ripplescale had survived Captain Jax and fled to the Outer Rim, they would have turned as gnarled and bitter and twisted as those two old men, and sent off young men to their death with the same ease.
Perhaps that's what too much sorrow does, twists and gnarls you until you don't recognize yourself anymore. Ripplescale could barely comprehend surviving the death of the Jedi Order. They cannot imagine what it was like for the Grandmaster, to lose everything, and live, when so many died. Perhaps that explains his choices. Certainly explains Master Kenobi's abject failure to do anything to connect or teach the boy, until far too late.
Unlike in the Prequels, the absence of non-humanoid aliens in the Original Trilogy had a distinct and unresolved quality that couldn't be easily dismissed as humans lacking the proper talent or imagination. There was something the Force hinted at, yet shied away from explicating. Something terrible happened in those nineteen years. Ripplescale's awareness of the profoundly unsettling and enigmatic event was limited to subtle suggestions conveyed through the Force. Flashes of images of high walls and camps, and a strange black angular shape like a cross where each arm bent, forming a clockwise pinwheel on a circle of white and a rectangle of red. They would have to ask what such a symbol meant, but they were certain it meant nothing good.
As their stomach twisted at distant implications, they found themself in front of a park, empty this late. The park was lonely and cold in the faded yellow lights of streetlamps, yet a place of life inside a grey, decrepit city, a green space to get their head back on straight, to settle their aching, weary heart. It was something they desperately needed.
For an hour Knight Ripplescale simply lay on the grass staring up at the unfamiliar stars, and slowly went through their emotions, acknowledging them and releasing them into the Force. They were right to feel everything they felt. Justified in their despair and anger and fear, their disgust and confusion and soul-deep weariness, and most of all, their sense of betrayal.
Death had been a constant companion these past years, but that didn't mean seeing Ki-Adi-Mundi, Mace Windu, Shaak Ti and so many others perish didn't affect them, even if they were being played by humans in bad costumes. The Force had sung with the truth of the matter. Order 66 was very real, Ripplescale had experienced it firsthand.
But wallowing in such feelings wouldn't help Ripplescale or anyone else on Earth Bet. They had to be understood and released. Unfortunately, it wasn't nearly enough. They wanted to hit something or scream, still. Wanted to shake Grandmaster Yoda and throttle Master Kenobi.
So they stood and ran through the Form I katas, slowly, glacially, feeling every movement of Shii-Cho in their newly healed limbs and taking tens of minutes. Then again, faster this time, moving through at a regular pace. Then again, lightning quick, feeling the Force flowing through them as they wove their body through the sinuous motions. Then they did the same with Form II, Makashi. By the time they reached Form V, Djem So, the sun had been up for an hour and a crowd had gathered on the edges of the park, filming them. Ripplescale did not mind. Let the public enjoy the spectacle. They had a lot to work out. If they imagined it the elder Skywalker against their imaginary blade sometimes and themself winning, it was an indulgence they let themselves experience.
Of course, eventually the PRT showed up. Battery came out of the van alone and walked over.
"So you didn't come back last night, after leaving the Dallons. Made a few people worried," she said carefully.
Ripplescale bristled a little at the implication they had done something wrong, feathers fanning their face. "I believe I have the right to spend my days and nights how I please," they said stiffly, "but I appreciate the worry. I am not without defenses, however."
"What are you doing, if you don't mind me asking?" she questioned in a curious tone.
"I am working out my feelings and then releasing them. I find moving meditation quite helpful with anger and frustration."
"Do you mind if I watch? These people aren't bothering you, are they?"
"No, of course not. Let them watch and film to their heart's content."
Observing from a nearby bench, Battery witnessed the completion of Form VII. Ripplescale had knowledge and experience in both Juyo and Vaapad, but they considered the idea of consistently utilizing either form, particularly without the guidance and monitoring of other Jedi, to be unwise. Therefore, they opted for the only somewhat safer alternative of Vaapad and ultimately returned to practicing Shii-Cho. When they finished with the Form I set, they stopped, and knelt on the grass, facing the sun and meditated once more on the Jedi Code, finding themselves lingering on the Initiate's Mantra, the former Jedi Code.
A code from a bygone era, when the world was less complicated. A code Parahumans could reasonably adhere to. A code lonely Jedi could follow with any amount of reasonability. They nodded, accepting the choice easily. There was a time for tradition and a time for change. This was a time for change.
Battery knelt in the grass next to them, brimming with curiosity, excitement, doubt. "Legend told me," she said quietly. "I don't mean to interrupt, but would you mind teaching me what you're doing? How you are meditating? I… You said before, you would choose me. I want to know why."
They opened their third eye and rolled their head over their flank to gaze at her. "It is good to ask questions. Do you believe Legend?"
"Well, yes. The circumstance in which he spoke to me almost guaranteed it must be the truth. He says you know about them. About Cauldron." The last is whispered dead quiet.
"I am aware of their activities." It was said a tad bit colder than they intended.
Her heart beat faster. "You don't approve?"
They let out a whistling sigh. "There are reasons why I must tolerate them. But if you knew only some of what they've done… But that matters not, today. So you believe. I presume Cauldron asked you to spy on me."
She nodded. "And so did the PRT."
They let out a sibilant giggle at that. "Ah well, I suppose you are fit for the task, then."
"What, uh did that noise mean, Knight Ripplescale? If you don't mind me asking."
"Please do, I will not be offended. I am a nonhuman on a human-dominant world. I shouldn't expect you to be able to read my body language. That was a giggle, for humans."
"Oh! You think its funny. That's good. That's good. What task?"
Ripplescale smiled closed-lipped at her. "I'm working on updating what it means to be a Jedi in this world, and I wanted to run by a potential Jedi Code you would be following."
"Oh, a, a new code? That you expect me to follow?" Battery asked, sounding surprised.
"Yes," they nodded. "If you are going to be a Force User, you will follow the Code. The Dark Side is very real and very dangerous. Any and all defenses against its insidious nature will be required of you."
"Of course, I'm still just trying to wrap my head around all this being real, and needing to be considered. But go ahead, let me hear the Code," Battery said, curious yet uncertain.
"Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force."
To her credit she considered it for over a minute before speaking. They would have liked a little longer thinking, but this was not the Temple. These people had lives to live, and things to do outside of philosophy. Unfortunately, it was practical philosophy that would save the lives of new Force users.
"I don't think I quite understand it, but I don't see anything wrong with it, necessarily. But how can one be ignorant, yet knowledgeable?" Battery asked, confused.
"You can be ignorant of the dangers that lay around you, yet knowledgeable that the Force will guide your step. The Force is in all things, and the Force is all things. With the Force to guide you, all things are possible. And so, even in our ignorance, we have the knowledge of the Force."
"I think I need to have the Force to actually get it," admitted Battery. "That doesn't seem possible."
"With the Force, the impossible is possible. But you must experience to believe, and believe to experience. That will come later. You foresee no insurmountable difficulties adhering those maxims?"
"I… No, I like to think I keep a cool head, even in battle. Have to. Having to stand still to get your power to work, just watching others go in, makes you have to consider and think. The part about death, that's… both harder and easier. To know there's something genuinely good after all this, is freeing. But I think, I don't know how I'd handle certain people's deaths, even knowing."
"Death is always hard. Never easy. Not even three endless years of them made them any easier. Life will be different for you, having the Force. It is not a power you can turn off. You can adjust your focus, your attention, but its always there. You'll read people's emotions and mental states, maybe even their nature, just by passing by them. You'll feel the city when it mourns and when it fears and when it celebrates, as if it were a great lumbering beast or a storm system. You'll feel the grass growing and the birds in flight, the intricate wonders of nature, the interconnectedness of us all and this planet, and the stars beyond. It is a heavy burden and a wondrous miracle, the Force."
"That sounds… Legend made it seem like a dream. But I suppose you get the good with the bad. I can't imagine how New York City must feel. Makes me worried, about how Brockton Bay feels."
"We shall have to make sure we awaken you in a green space, far from people. Cities can be overwhelming," Ripplescale noted.
"You still haven't said why you chose me," Battery asked carefully.
"You have a heroic disposition and a calm, rational demeanor. You are familiar with learning how to use powers. Instinct."
"Instinct," she repeated, disbelieving.
"Trusting your instinct is very important. It is one of the method's the Force uses to deliver intuition. Yet you must not rely on them solely. Of course, that for much later. For now, though, simply consider the Code, while I finish my meditation. I shall not be much longer."
"Take your time," Battery protested. "If I'm needed, they'll let me know."
They finished after a half hour, feeling much more settled. "Thank you for your patience. I'm ready to leave now." The crowd had ebbed, but some still lingered, watching, as the two left the park together.
Ripplescale could fit inside the van with Battery, though probably not many more could without things becoming cramped, given their size.
"How was the Dallon's?" Battery asked into the silence.
"The Dallon's themselves were a delight. The evening was wearing and long, though. We watched Star Wars. The Prequels and the Original Trilogy."
Battery's eyes widened. "Oh. That must have been… difficult and strange."
"Your depictions of aliens are far too human-centric, and your lightsaber combat is silly. But to know it was all a Sith trap from the very beginning… That the entire Order fell because of the actions of a Sith given the levers of power…" They shook their head and ruffled their feathers mournfully. "We were blind. Buffoons stumbling in a dark room, never sensing the assailant coming closer. We were fools. Worst of all, we were arrogant. We had thought our enemies long dead, and we forgot and it cost us everything."
Battery's mouth moved a couple times, before she settled on, "I'm sorry. I truly am. But there's more than just the movies. There are books. They call it the Extended Universe. There's a whole new Jedi Order, lead by Luke Skywalker, the son of Anakin. The Jedi Order lives on."
"There is some comfort in knowing that. Less that I'd like. That doesn't change the Younglings."
Thinking about it made their heart ache fiercely, made their stomach seize and their throat burn. They had been glad for the comforting presence of Amy laying against their bulk in that moment, even as they had thrown up all over the Dallon's wooden floor from the stress of understanding the sheer horror of what Anakin had done. It didn't matter that the vid's scene had been quiet and bloodless. They had been sick because they knew it was true. They had needed and still needed the touch of another being or to hit something, or both, but they kept themselves calm, focusing on the moment and releasing their frustration.
Battery winced, her face paling as a rush of understanding washed over her like icy water. "I understand completely now why you needed to work out anger." The van rattled over a bump, before smoothing out.
"I will need to work on it regularly. Is there a green space near the PRT building I can use?"
"My husband would probably make a joke about Tai Chi right about now," she said with some fondness, "but yes, Cavalier Park is two blocks west, and open 24/7."
"Good, I was thinking about making a regular ritual of greeting the morning sun. Work out my anger and frustration through katas. Keep myself regulated and maintain my combat effectiveness, while preparing for teaching my own… Initiates," they said, deciding that certain words had become taboo.
"I'm sure that will be perfectly fine, but PR would love to film you if you let them know. I know you're not a member of the Protectorate, but I don't think it would matter. Might be interesting to do sometime. They'd probably want to interview you though."
Interviews… They'd probably have to explain their nature as a Jedi in Cape terms again, like they had at the Dallons, not wanting to turn dinner into a spectacle. "I am familiar with interviews. I do not mind giving one. I have been working on a backstory that is true but palatable for Earth Bet, before I am ready to reveal to all and sundry I am truly a Jedi."
"Oh, let me hear it," Battery asked excitedly.
"I am not a simple Case 53. I remember my life before I arrived on Earth Bet. I was a member of an order of militant Parahuman monks who followed the Light of the Path. We believe that there is an energy field that bind all life together, from the smallest bacterium to the grandest animal, and all people as well and empowers one's power. This energy field, this Path of Life has two directions; to bend to the Light, or fall to the Dark. I was wounded in a war against an order of Darkness, before suddenly appearing in the skies above Canberra."
"Militant Parahuman monks, huh?" Battery mused.
"Carol Dallon seemed to find the remixing of the Hero/Villain dynamic into spiritual warfare par for the course for another Earth. Of course I never told her I was from Earth, she simply assumed. And I told her Legend joined my new Order I'm establishing. She didn't believe it, of course."
Battery snorted. "Of course she didn't believe it. It sounds ridiculous despite being true. We'll have to get proper names down for your backstory, some more details, maybe a couple stories from your life remade into Earth-Ripple."
"I'd rather not lie, so maybe no stories. Or only war stories, sanitized." The face of Captain Jax, cold as he discharged his weapon into Ripplescale's chest. Order 66. So many dead in three years. The light of the galaxy going out, never to return. A lonely Luke Skywalker, the last of the Jedi; a half-trained weapon meant to kill his father, not restore the Jedi. They pushed the images from their mind and let out a whistling sigh, rustling their feathers. "Or maybe not that, even. I'm fine with being secretive."
"It's not like they can do anything more than ask. You are entirely in your rights to not answer."
"Do you know of symbols? The Force gave me one. If I described one to you, would you recognize it?" they asked Battery.
"Maybe," she hedged.
They described the symbol, and the high walled camps, with barracks and smokestacks. Battery took a moment to place what they are talking about, but slowly explained an event called the Holocaust. A little over 70 years ago, a government began the mass killing of an entire ethnic group of humans, called Jews, after a long period of persecution. They made work camps, concentration camps, for them, working them to death. When that wasn't fast enough, they gassed them and burn them in ovens. They killed two-thirds of the local population before they were stopped.
With this revelation, Ripplescale comprehended the full extent of exactly what had transpired across numerous worlds in the former Galactic Republic, the Empire, affecting not just one, but possibly hundreds of sentient species known to the Galaxy. They had thought they were done, that they were finished with the heartbreaking knowledge that made them want to do anything but understand and accept.
"Why... why do you ask?" Battery questioned, finally, after she finished her macabre tale.
They took a deep shuddering breath, unable to stop a low keen. "I... I was curious, I suppose." A pause. "The Force showed me that symbol when I questioned why there were no aliens that didn't follow the human body plan in A New Hope."
Battery takes a moment to realize what that means, but she gets it quickly enough. "You think... you think the Empire killed them all?"
"I don't think, I know. The Force showed me that symbol and those camps for a reason. The Empire is committing genocide. And instead of being somewhere I can help, I'm here. On Earth Bet." Disdain leaked into their voice, and they had to throttle it.
Battery still caught it. The rest of the ride was quiet, as they chased their tail in their mind, imagining the shining urban jungles of Sauryx empty, or worse, filled with just humans. It was an image they couldn't get out of their mind. They needed something to do, something to distract them.
The van gradually decelerated, coming to a gentle halt. They stepped out into the cramped confines of the smaller garage on the Rig, the Protectorate Headquarters. The converted oil rig now stood as a formidable fortress, adorned with a shield generator emitting a faint hum and strategically placed missile emplacements.
"Your workshop is fully ready now, so Armsmaster wanted to walk you through," Battery told them. Armsmaster met them halfway there, and took over, greeting Ripplescale with enthusiasm, and not a little Tinker worship. Apparently his own recreations of the power pack were turning out to not be Tinkertech, at least as far as the strictures of the PRT went. That meant the power packs didn't need to be turned over for examination and approval, they could be used in the field at any time. Armsmaster was ecstatic. They tried to match their energy and just couldn't.
They recognized all the tools, as versions flitted through their brain, ancient versions to Ripplescale yet far more advanced than these. And it would be easy to make them as well, while Armsmaster had spent so much making sure they got the best tools. "Armsmaster, would you be offended if I used these tools by taking them apart to make new tools?"
He laughed heartily and clapped their flank. "That's the point, Ripplescale. You truly are a Tinker. That's why I got you the best ones. Should give you a step up, maybe even skip a few steps. Any questions? Any additions you need?"
"Thank you, Armsmaster. This is truly a gift and I appreciate you doing it on such short notice. Crystals actually. All kinds and geodes, natural if possible. I need samples of metals and different gasses. I have the ability to convert common materials into tinker materials," they said as they began to tear down the first tool in front of them, eager to escape thoughts of the Empire and Anakin.
"Crystals, geodes, metals and gasses. The Protectorate would be glad to provide. Anything else?"
"Be sure to send my blueprints to your Dragon. I believe she can get much from them."
"Already have. She's fascinated by your power pack. Claims it could scale enough to power her mecha, so you already have a fan," Armsmaster said with a soft grin.
"Good, I am aware of the good work she does." And will need to make a trip to Newfoundland to deal with some horrible people, before they decide to pull the trigger.
"I'll be sure to tell her."
Armsmaster left them to get to work.
They meticulously worked on the tools, carefully transforming them into their Corsuca equivalent. The clanging of metal against metal reverberated through the workshop as they skillfully crafted each blueprint. Hours slipped away as they focused intently on the task at hand. Their dedication to detail was evident in every stroke of the hammer and every twist of the wrench. With precision and expertise, they shaped the tools, ensuring that each one mirrored its Corsuca counterpart flawlessly.
The rhythmic symphony of clanging metal filled the workshop, resonating with a sense of purpose and determination. Time seemed to lose its grip as they immersed themselves wholeheartedly in the art of crafting. Each blueprint was meticulously followed, bringing the envisioned design to life. Hours slipped away, unnoticed, as their concentration remained unyielding. They were consumed by the task at hand, their focus unwavering. Every tool was honed to perfection, every detail meticulously attended to. Finally, as the last stroke was made, they stepped back to admire their work. The tools were now in the style of the Ancient Corsuca Galaxay, their transformation complete. With a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction, they knew that their efforts would bring them one step closer to ending the Endbringers and finding a solution for the Worm.
As they delved into the realm of lightsabers, a sense of disappointment washed over them. The name itself seemed inadequate when they observed its reliance on a modified power pack and cable, hindering its mobility and range. It lacked the essence of a true lightsaber, resembling more of a protosaber. Undeterred, they set their sights on crafting a sleek handle specifically designed for the effortless maneuvering required in Form I and Form II, Shii-Cho and Makashi. With their scaled and feathered hands coated in grease and sweat, they toiled throughout the night, constructing the casing and intricate focusing mechanisms. The air was infused with the tangy scent of metal and the crackling hint of ozone, as they diligently utilized the power pack they had already created. Immersed in their work, their thoughts were consumed, shielding them from any intrusive distractions.
Only in the moments before sleep did the weight of their contemplations seep in, haunting them like a relentless pack of feathered pyx-hounds. The Sith and their machinations, the Worm and its inevitable turn, the exhausted, rundown city they found themself in, and the dying world they were stuck on, the Empire and its plans, and what they could possibly do about it; these and more ran through their head. Finally, they found fitful rest, their body exhausted from a night of tireless labor.
Chapter 6
New
Adullahan
Know what you're doing yet?
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Feb 27th
Ripplescale Redfeather, Jedi Knight, awoke to the gentle warmth of sunlight streaming through the window, casting soft rays of golden light across the room. Stretching their lithe, saurian body, they could feel the softness of the human bed beneath them, providing a comforting support. As they rose, the faint scent of fresh linen mingled with the crisp morning air, invigorating their senses. Then they remembered where they were, and why.
With a determined resolve and no little heartache dripping like poison, Ripplescale made their way to Cavalier Park, the sound of birds chirping and leaves rustling in the gentle breeze filling the air. Amidst the serene surroundings, they began their katas, their movements fluid and precise, as they sought to banish the haunting images and unwelcome thoughts that plagued their mind.
As they finished their morning meditation, a shipment of crystals and geodes arrived, glimmering and catching the light. Excitement filled the air as they eagerly began the process of synthesizing Kyber. The solution they created had a surprisingly mundane appearance, but its faint radioactive glow and intense corrosiveness added an edge of danger to the atmosphere. The process took a couple of days, during which they could feel the anticipation building. They knew that they would only have the protosaber ready by the time the Truce ended.
Realizing the urgency, they started preparing different weapons, opting for an electro-staff. This classic weapon had stood the test of time in galactic warfare, its design remaining relatively unchanged. The familiarity and ease of construction made it the logical choice. With that completed in two and a half hours, next was larger scale power packs, boring but necessary as prototypes for production models.
Legend arriving meant that had to pull themself out of the workshop.
Legend stood in his blue and gray costume, the colors vibrant against the backdrop of their workshop. With a contemplative gaze, he looked out into the distance, his mind deep in thought. Breaking the silence, he spoke quietly, his voice barely audible.
"I left Cauldron," he revealed.
Ripplescale, standing by his side, nodded in understanding. The sound of distant traffic filled the air, a constant reminder of the bustling city beyond their sanctuary. Ripplescale's scaled hand gently rested on Legend's shoulder, providing a comforting touch.
"Good," Ripplescale responded, their voice filled with conviction. "They do not deserve you. I assume you found out about their lies?"
"I… I asked them. To tell me the truth," Legend started, "and do you know what they did? Do you know what they said? Contessa told me that it was better if I kept being lied to, better that I was kept in the dark. She claimed it would result in a greater chance of victory. And when I asked anyone to speak, they just looked at me. Looked at me like I was some kind of zoo animal or spectacle," he hissed, deeply upset. "I left. I couldn't take it anymore, knowing that there was something hidden from me, something kept from me, and no one had the audacity to meet my eyes and tell me the simple truth about what it was."
"Would you like to know?" they asked the Protectorate leader simply, and he nodded.
"To be honest, it is Cauldron who is accountable for the existence of the Case 53s. Their testing failures have not ceased; rather, they have become more proficient at concealing them from you. Inside Cauldron prisons on other Earths, there are countless Case 53s, numbering in the thousands. They are meant little more than as a distraction against the Enemy, to die a near-pointless death achieving nothing."
Legend was stunned. "They really did lie to me…" he murmured.
"Of course they did. They knew you would never agree to half of what they get up to, running the United States through assassination and blackmail, the Nemesis Program, kidnapping and imprisoning people inter-dimensionally, various crimes against sentients; they knew you would try to stop them."
"The Nemesis Program?"
"Programmable villains using brainwashed Case 53s, meant for up and coming heroes to take out," they said quietly. "They even brainwashed them to lose on purpose. What's another life ruined and turned into a tool for evil, if it meant the survival of humanity?"
Legend looked sick.
"I'm glad you left. Truly, they don't deserve you."
He nodded tightly. "Is there more?"
"I'm sure there is, but I do not know all of Cauldron's crimes."
Legend nodded again, frowning, a look of contemplation on his face. "I should have realized the Cases were ours. That the formulas wouldn't suddenly work better, especially with Manton on the run."
"Maybe, but they were keeping it from you, probably using powers to protect the information. But enough of such grim talk. We need to get started. We shall grab Battery as well," they told Legend. "I should awaken her sooner than later. Let us travel to this Captain's Hill of yours, so she may view the city at a remove when she is opened to the Force."
"Yes, Master," Legend tried to joke and Ripplescale hissed in displeasure, turning on him whip-fast.
"I am not your Master, Initiate. You still have much to learn before I could ever be. And besides, that word is taboo here and unnecessary. I will be your teacher, your guide to the Force. You have no need for a Master, to rule your life."
"Well, that's certainly true. Shall you be my Teacher then? Sensei?"
"Teacher would be fine, if not for that despicable man. If you must call me anything, I suppose I can accept Sensei, but I would rather you just call me Ripplescale."
"Yes, Sensei," Legend said, amused and Ripplescale sighed.
Battery was available and joined them in a PRT van, nervous and excited as she clambered in to the tight fit.
Conversation revealed the two were longtime friends, Battery having been a Ward in the New York Protectorate. Ripplescale was content to listen to the two chatter, as Legend subtly tried to calm the nervous Battery. They were dropped off at the parking lot halfway up the hill, and walked the rest of the way. It was a little before eleven AM, as they took the gravel path lined with vibrant, blooming flowers, their colors painting a picturesque scene. The Hill, a semi-manicured meadow, exuded a gentle fragrance of freshly cut grass and wildflowers. It was adorned with a couple of majestic trees, including a towering oak at the top of the hill, casting a comforting shade. The trio chose this serene spot as their gathering place, feeling the cool breeze caress their skin.
Legend settled down against the tree to meditate, while Ripplescale took Battery to the very center of the hill.
"My name is Ripplescale. It is not a cape name, a name to hide behind. Would you mind introducing yourself to me as your true name before we go any further?" they said to Battery.
"Joslyn."
They nodded, before solemnly intoning, "Joslyn, are you willing to accept the mantle of the Force? To take the first step in becoming a Jedi, a defender of all living beings, and a protector of this planet?"
She nodded resolutely, staring straight into their eyes, their words ringing with truth. "I am."
"Then step forward and take my hand."
It was like seeing God in everything, Joslyn thought in amazement. As she connected with the Force, the world unveiled its interlaced relations, meticulously binding it into a state of perfect imperfection, like a well-oiled clockwork. In awe, she witnessed the profound interconnectedness of life, where every action, from the tiniest microorganism to the mightiest ruler, held deep meaning. She found herself crying, smiling, looking at Ripplescale who's kind blue-white eyes carried the depths of wisdom inside them.
"It all means something," she said, unable to stop the smile blossoming across her face, her cheeks high and tight. "It really means something."
It was as if a veil had been lifted, and she could now sense the Light of the Force surrounding her, a subtle tingling sensation that whispered of ancient wisdom, true goodness and infinite possibilities. Had the Light, the Force always been there and humanity just blind to it? It seemed impossible. Yet it also seemed impossible that it had just blossomed into existence around a single person, no matter how strange or powerful Ripplescale was.
Joslyn pondered, thinking back to instances when her instincts would unexpectedly intensify, signaling danger even when there were no apparent risks. Nevertheless, she always trusted her gut feelings, and they consistently proved to be correct. Just seconds later, she narrowly escaped attacks that were intended for a Brute, incidents that would have resulted in her demise or serious injury, if she hadn't activated her power.
Other capes often had instincts like hers, though not all listened to them. Challenger certainly hadn't, and it had cost her Brockton Bay. These instincts, sometimes referred colloquially as 'guardian angels,' weren't something much talked about, or even studied, yet word and tales spread amongst Parahumans, older taking younger aside and explaining to them to always listen to their instincts, that someday it would save their life.
The Force felt like a powerful blend of these instincts mixed with a new set of powers, amplified to an extraordinary level and infused with the brilliance of God's light. She was certain now that those that spoke of God's light, of the endless white heaven, were speaking of the Force and the Light Side. The profound connection, the revelation of the divine clockwork of life, the endless soft glow, the feeling of capital g Goodness, all of it was nigh-religious and instilled in Joslyn and profound sense of contentment and hope.
With the demise of an Endbringer and the undeniable reality of the Light, Joslyn experienced a profound sense of hope for the first time in years. Legend grinned at them.
"It's a trip, huh? Like God is real and whispering in your ear," he said.
"I can see why the Jedi are a religious organization, if they feel like this all the time…" Joslyn replied.
"It is hard to see the Light and not become at least spiritual, though there are secular Force Sensitives scattered about the galaxy, practicing the Force without viewing it as more than a tool. Or… there were…" Joslyn could feel Ripplescale's mood plunge, only for them to wrestle it under control, calming themself.
Keith put a hand on their flank, patting them. "I've never been much for religion, if you can't guess, but I think I can make an exception for the Jedi. It's a lot harder to deny that there's something to the Light, you know?"
"It's God's work," Joslyn said firmly.
"Which god?" asked Ripplescale, confused.
"God. The big one. The Creator of the universe, and all life."
A trill came from their lips. "You are monotheists. How interesting! Not many monotheists thrive in the Corsuca galaxy, too many useful gods to pray to. Tell me more about this God of yours, what does He require of His followers?"
Between Joslyn and Keith, they clumsily pieced together a rough understanding of basic Christian theology. Neither of them were particularly religious.
"The human preoccupation with punishment and the concept of hells has always perplexed me," Ripplescale murmured. "Nevertheless, if you perceive the hand of the Creator in the Force and the Light, I respect your viewpoint. Many a Jedi found signs of their own religious awakening inside the Force, though it is not a topic often discussed. As a newly made Jedi Knight, thirty years ago, I myself encountered powerful visions and revelations that I was convinced originated from the Goddess Lashni-Rukov-Alakeesh, the three-faced Binder of Fate for the Aelayir people. Three visions I received from the Goddess and three times I sought her priests, seeking answers, though what I received was profoundly lacking."
Joslyn was fascinated. Keith replied, "And then what happened?"
"The priests denied me the first time. 'Your eyes are blind' they told me, 'and you are fettered.' They considered Jedi at best to be fools, and worse, slaves. The second time they listened to my vision, but did nothing except mutter and murmur amongst themselves about its meaning. The third time I came, they spoke first. 'Fettered and blind, yet the Goddess speaks through you, weaving a grand tapestry around you in the coming decades. Your fate sends you far and away, if you speak this final vision to us.' I considered it for a long while, maybe an hour, but the priests were patient. And then I told them my third vision."
"What did you see?" Joslyn couldn't help asking.
"As the first vision unfolded, two stars, one radiant gold and the other shimmering silver, traveled across the vast expanse of the cosmos. With each step, they set ablaze the planets they encountered, until a sinister black star approached and handed them a chalice filled with poison. Above a pale blue dot, the silver drank deeply. As the second vision unfurled, I witnessed the galaxy spinning, the lights flickering out like distant bonfires fading amidst the emptiness, until all that remained was a single, radiant yellow star defiantly shining against the encroaching entropy, the same pale blue dot orbiting the star. In the third vision, I saw a strange city, filled with dilapidated buildings and crumbling infrastructure. People, dressed in vibrant and eccentric costumes, stood fearlessly in the face of a colossal green crystalline lizard, and I stood amongst them in unfamiliar armor, surrounded by unfamiliar Jedi. I recognize it now as Brockton Bay, and the creature as Leviathan."
"Wait. You're telling me you had a vision thirty years ago of Brockton Bay being attacked by an Endbringer, that you claim some Goddess sent you?"
"The Goddess or the Force, but yes. I'm not sure there's much of a distinction, to be honest. Fate Deities are notoriously interchangeable with the Force itself."
"How is that possible?" asked Joslyn, utterly confused.
"In the Force, all things are possible," the Jedi said, infuriatingly.
"So we have an Endbringer to expect," Keith murmured, staring out onto the city.
"Yes, we do, but enough talk about fates and visions. If it happens, it will happen. For now, let us focus on the Force, and how to manipulate it," Ripplescale said, adopting a teaching tone.
Despite her perplexed thoughts about the vastness of the Force and the seemingly impossible visions of other universes, she centered herself through familiar meditation techniques to find mental clarity. Ripplescale approved, and she got to work, learning the Force beside Keith.
Feb 28th - Mar 2nd
During the remainder of the Truce, Ripplescale toiled diligently, the rhythmic hum of machinery drowning out intrusive thoughts. The workshop buzzed with activity as they focused on crafting training protosabers, their bulkiness evident in the reinforced containment field that safeguarded against fatal injuries. The sight of the imposing body armor, both large and hulking, filled the space, while the air carried the metallic tang of ongoing fabrication.
They meticulously tinkered with basic technologies, envisioning their adaptation for Earth Bet's use, particularly in power technology and aerospace technology. Their first blaster, a massive two-handed contraption, required an immense power pack to discharge its formidable energy. The power scientists had taken one look and claimed it, going hog wild in breaking down how exactly it functioned. With every passing day, Ripplescale diligently worked on producing more compact power packs, the whirring of machinery growing quieter as advancements were made.
Meanwhile, their first through third batches of Kyber crystals slowly grew, their luminescent glow casting a mesmerizing aura in the room. In addition, they delved into the intricate task of forging blaster gasses, blending noble gases with irradiated counterparts, infused with negative ions. The resulting mixtures, filling the air with a faint chemical scent, held the potential to be devastatingly effective.
Undeterred by the laborious nature of the process, they embarked on crafting beskar armor, a complex endeavor that would consume weeks, if not months of their time. The tactile sensation of working with the durable material, their hands moving with purpose and precision, hinted at the life-saving capabilities it possessed, should they ever find themselves facing another lightsaber-wielding opponent.
When Ripplescale wasn't in their lab, they could be found meditating in Cavilier Park in the early mornings, the gentle rustle of leaves and chirping of birds creating a serene atmosphere, as they danced amongst the greenery in their katas. Over the course of the week, they became a familiar sight, a fixed figure amidst the tranquil surroundings. In the afternoons, Ripplescale would teach Legend and Battery, Keith and Joslyn, the ways of the Force on Captain's Hill. The afternoon sun bathed the hill in warm golden hues, casting long shadows as they trained.
Under Ripplescale's expert guidance, Keith and Joslyn advanced swiftly, their progress evident as they effortlessly reached out in the Force. By the second day, they were capable of manipulating sticks and leaves in a group, causing them to wobble and float in the air. Joslyn, in particular, possessed a natural talent for imbuing herself with the Force, enabling her to move with agility and react with remarkable speed. At the end of each session, Ripplescale would have the two spar using only the Force, devoid of any other supernatural powers.
The air on top of Captain's Hill crackled with anticipation as the two Initiates faced off using martial arts, their movements fluid and precise in a way they hadn't been before awakening to the Force. Keith, although slower in grasping the Force, showed steady improvement. However, despite Keith's efforts, Joslyn emerged victorious every time, her innate skill at using the Force to imbue and amplify her movements evident in her every action, the instincts of her power having taught her well.
Keith's muscles strained as he launched a furious series of punches, his fists slicing through the air like arrows. But Joslyn effortlessly sidestepped each blow, her lithe form dancing with grace. With a sudden burst of speed, Keith unleashed a devastating roundhouse kick, aiming for Joslyn's temple. Yet, she effortlessly ducked under his attack, her body moving as if guided by an unseen force.
The ground trembled beneath them as Keith channeled his frustration, summoning the Force to enhance his strikes instinctually and clumsily. His fist almost seemed to crackle with energy, unleashing a powerful blast towards Joslyn's chest.
But she was quicker than lightning, her senses attuned to the ebb and flow of the Force. With a deft twist of her body, she dodged, sending it spiraling harmlessly into the surrounding air. Keith's eyes widened in awe as he witnessed Joslyn's mastery. She moved with an otherworldly finesse, her every motion a testament to the raw power coursing through both their veins.
In one swift motion, Joslyn closed the distance between them, her hand darting forward like a viper striking its prey. The air seemed to crackle with tension as her palm connected with Keith's chest, the impact echoing through the quiet hilltop. He was sent hurtling backward, crashing into a tree with a bone-jarring crack, the scent of freshly broken branches filling the air.
Gasping for air, Keith struggled to regain his footing. His body ached, but his determination burned bright. He refused to be defeated, to let his limitations define him. Summoning every ounce of strength, Keith charged forward, his movements fueled by sheer will. His strikes became faster, more precise, as the Force itself flowed through his very being and he floated in a bubble of calm, relying heavily on the active meditation technique Ripplescale taught them.
The air seemed to crackle with intensity as Keith and Joslyn clashed once more, their bodies a blur of motion. Each strike carried the weight of their training, both Protectorate and Jedi, the culmination of endless hours of sweat and sacrifice. But in the end, it was Joslyn who emerged triumphant, her every move a symphony of power and elegance. Keith, though defeated, couldn't help but admire her skill, her new, yet unwavering connection to the Force.
Addressing matters of the Code also took up some time, as both capes had questions about what exactly was allowed and forbidden. And the honest truth was Ripplescale had seen what forbidding had done to the Jedi, so for some things they had no answers. Relationships couldn't be forbidden. Ripplescale had no say in telling anyone who not to love, and both of their rapidly learning force-sensitives were in long-term committed relationships. They also had no intention of returning to the traditional method of gaining students, though it confused Ripplescale how vehemently the two were against such practices. They figured it must be a cultural more.
And then, on the crisp morning of March 2nd, the air carried a sense of anticipation. The first batch of Kyber crystals, their vibrant energy resonating in the Force, were finally ready. Ripplescale could almost hear their faint hum, like a melody in their mind that had been missing since Canberra.
Before the sun could even break the horizon, they meticulously prepared their protosaber, a rough and heavy weapon of power. With nimble hands, they attached the latest power pack, its compact size allowing it to rest comfortably on their shoulder. Carefully, they placed the precious Kyber crystals into a bag, feeling the subtle pull of the Force from some of them, but ignoring their beckoning call. Their Initiates would have the first choice.
Without hesitation, Ripplescale reached out to Keith. "If you would like to join me at Captain's Hill, I have a gift for you and Joslyn," they said quietly, knowing sleep still held him half-captive. The words stirred Keith from his slumber, his curiosity piqued.
Excitement coursing through his veins, Keith swiftly replied, his voice laced with anticipation, "I'll be there in half an hour."
"I'll be waiting."
Then they called Joslyn. "Mm-yes? Battery speaking."
"It's Ripplescale. Can you get to Captain's Hill in half an hour? I have a gift for you and Keith that I think you'll enjoy."
A yawn came over the line. "I can be there, yeah. Is it that important?"
"Come and see."
Then they flew to the hill and waited. By the time fifteen minutes were up Legend was there in costume, yawning, while Battery had just finished hiking up the Hill. Ripplescale sat beneath the old oak, with the protosabers lying on the grass before them. The two settled on the grass in front of Ripplescale, gazing curiously at the technology.
"Are these the gifts?" asked Keith.
"These are training protosabers," Ripplescale answered as the morning breeze rustled the leaves overhead and dawn barely peeked over the horizon "I don't have miniaturized power packs down yet, so we need to rely on these hip-side or backside power pack for the time being."
They paused, waiting for questions, and when they received none they continued.
"As the morning sun rises, take the time to find a Kyber crystal that speaks to your soul, and let its mystical essence guide your meditation. Feel it in the Force. These are no ordinary crystals. One could call them living things and not be wrong, though their existence is very different from most lifeforms. Then, when you are ready, use the Force to inset the Kyber into the protosaber. When you feel a click, you've succeeded and should have a fulling functioning protosaber."
Each of them held a thick tube with blocky housing, for the stronger containment field, with a cable trailing to a hip-side power pack attached to a new belt for Joslyn and a small backpack sized power pack for Keith.
"Now, since you aren't actually children, and sometime you will be in situations where you need to kill or maim, if you press the red switch and the green switch at the same time the containment field will drop in strength to a regular lightsaber, allowing lethal blows. Do not abuse that knowledge. You are not ready for a real lightsaber yet. Certainly not full time. Is that understood?"
They both nodded their heads and said yes.
"Good, now I want you to rummage in this bag until you find a Kyber crystal that calls to you. You should be able to sense it in the Force, even as untrained as you both are."
Keith carefully pulled out a shimmering gold crystal, its radiant glow captivating to the eyes. The Kyber emitted a melodic hum that filled the air with the power of the Light, resonating deeply within Ripplescale's heart, but they were happy it chose Legend as well. Battery, on the other hand, delicately revealed a sleek and graceful blue crystal singing of protection, its smooth surface glistening under the ambient light. Ripplescale themselves retrieved a captivating purple crystal, emanating a song of violent justice that filled the air with a profound sense of righteousness and pride.
With utmost precision, they effortlessly slotted their purple crystal into their lightsaber, guided by the invisible hand of the Force. The smooth click of the crystal settling into place brought a sense of accomplishment to their fingertips. They then dedicated themselves to assisting their Initiates, ensuring that each crystal was aligned perfectly, and offering guidance to make any necessary adjustments.
As the preparations neared completion, a sense of anticipation filled the air. The scene was charged with a palpable energy, as if the very Force itself was holding its breath.
"Knowing that you both are proven heroes, I entrust you with these sacred weapons, confident that you will wield them responsibly and only in times of true need. Honor your protosabers, and the Kyber that lies within, and let the Force guide your hand in battle, and you will stand before every enemy as a rock before the flood. You will join me every morning for lightsaber practice. We will begin with Shii-Cho, the traditional first form."
"Every morning?" Keith questioned. "I cannot do every morning. I have a home life, a kid and a husband."
"Will every other morning suffice, then?"
Keith frowned but nodded, reluctantly. "I can try."
They sighed. Things must change, but they would raise up no weekend warrior as a Jedi. "Or you may join me as much as you are willing and able. I will teach lessons in the park every morning one of you comes. Otherwise I will be meditating."
"I'd like the weekends off, but I can get up early during the week," said Joslyn, feeling excited.
"Very well, I will try to come as often as I can. I find Brockton Bay nicely quiet after dealing with New York. I can come in the mornings too, sometimes," Keith answered.
"I know I am asking a lot of you, both. Learning new powers, philosophy, ethics, and now martial arts. I will push you hard and quick, for we do not have time. The world is ending, Joslyn, Keith. I think we all know that, but the Force made it quite certain to me. I don't intend to let it happen, however. This world needs Jedi, those that can do what must be done."
"And what is it that you think must be done?" Legend asked, honestly curious. "Yes, you ask a lot, but you offer more. I am uncertain of your end goal, though."
"The re-establishment of some kind of Jedi Order, a planetary organization of Force wielders, dedicated to the Light and seeking to right wrongs, and deal with existential threats to the planet."
"So you want to be something like the Guild? Taking on bounties and S-Class threats?" Battery asked.
"And handling HOSV, and Quarantine Sites. Traveling, taking care of small town supervillains, and large-scale threats alike. Going where the Force guides them. Traveling the world, dealing with threats large and small. That's my end goal. A reborn Jedi Order. But that is after I fix Brockton Bay."
Battery smiled. "When you say it, I kind of believe it, that some day there'll be a real Jedi Order, standing for justice and the Light."
"Believe it," Ripplescale said, their voice filled with passion, the words echoing in the meadow on top the Hill. The air crackled with anticipation as they continued, their eyes shining with determination. "You will be its heralds, the originating nucleus of a New Jedi Order." A brief silence hung, filled only with the sound of their steady breaths. "But enough talking. Let us move our limbs," they said, their voice commanding, as they prepared to demonstrate.
With a snap-hiss, the protosaber ignited, its vibrant violet blade casting a warm glow on the surroundings. The scent of ozone filled the air, adding an electric tang to the atmosphere. As the hum of the protosaber reverberated in the air, a sense of safety washed over Ripplescale, relieving the tension that had plagued them for days. They were truly a Jedi again, in every sense.
Keith and Joslyn, their bodies tense yet eager, absorbed every detail, their eyes locked on Ripplescale's every move. With a fluidity born from their familiarity with martial arts, they swiftly grasped the foundations of Shii-Cho. The hours flew by, filled with the sound of their footsteps in the grass and the swish of their blades through the air, as they made remarkable progress. In a mere fraction of the time it takes most students, they surpassed expectations, their dedication evident in every precise movement they replicated.
The early evening air crackled with anticipation as the two apprentices faced off, Joslyn's and Keith's movements semi-fluid and imprecise, their blades swinging through the air with a ungraceful swish. It was a middling lightsaber spar, but the first one on Earth Bet, and therefore infinitely more special.
Sparks erupted as their blades clashed, a shower of fiery defiance as azure met aureate in a flash of white. Joslyn's eyes blazed with determination, her every strike fueled by unyielding resolve. Keith's grin was a mix of excitement and nerves, his instincts and basic Kendo training guiding his every move.
They danced across the meadow, their footsteps echoing with growing purpose, each more confident than the last. Each swing carried the weight of their dreams, the desire to prove themselves worthy of the honor Knight Ripplescale gave them. The air hummed with their energy, crackling with the promise of greatness.
Joslyn lunged forward, her blade aimed at Keith's chest, a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Keith parried with a flash, his own counterattack slicing through the air like a streak of lightning, their blades meeting like thunder. The clash of plasma reverberated with a harsh squeal, a symphony of determination and strength.
Their movements became blurred as each tapped into the Force, a whirlwind of flashing lights and swift strikes, blue blade meeting gold, over and over. They weaved through the meadow, their bodies fluid and limbs agile, a testament to their career heroism. Each parry, each dodge, brought them closer to their destiny as true Jedi, both Joslyn and Keith learning with every moment they fought, learning from each other. The spar was a symphony of lightsabers locked in an eternal struggle, one never overcoming the other more than temporarily.
When they finished, exhausted, they stood side by side, their chests heaving, their gazes locked, grins on each face. Earth Bet had witnessed its first lightsaber spar, a tie, a testament to their unshakeable determination, and proof they had much further to go than here.
The air crackled with anticipation, but now it crackled with something more. It crackled with the birth of legends, the birth of heroes. And as they sheathed their blades, they knew, deep in their hearts, that this was only the beginning. They would be Jedi.
When Ripplescale wasn't in Cavalier Park in the tranquil morning working through their feelings, or on Captain's Hill after a hearty lunch working with their Initiates, they immersed themselves in their Tinker workshop, surrounded by the scent of oil and metal shavings. The clanging of tools and the whirring of machines filled the air, creating a symphony of creativity, as they worked on various technologies and gadgets.
As evening approached, dinner was a special affair for Ripplescale, often featuring towering stacks of succulent, meticulously prepared meats and handfuls of fresh citrus. However, on a delightful Wednesday before the Truce ended, they were greeted with a tantalizing surprise - a whole pig carcass, raw but expertly seasoned with zesty lemon, tangy lime, and aromatic garlic pepper. Though not the traditional hailyukqueeza meal they remember—a whole raw kqueez dipped in traditional aromatic spices and citrus juices of the hail tree, both native to their homeworld—the delicious and satisfying flavors danced on their palate and the texture was nostalgic, leaving them content and fulfilled and missing home.
Their dreams painted a picture of tall towers adorned with blooming vines and sprawling trees that served as entire neighborhoods, while city streets were remodeled into lush green spaces, a dream of the Sauryxia they knew and loved, until a destructive fire came to ravage it all. Alongside the fire came the imposition of false order, as white armored soldiers advanced in a rigid formation, their synchronized gunfire drowning out the sounds of protest and death. They woke up sweaty, their head throbbing, and despite the early hour, went to Cavalier Park, eager to work the images out of their mind.
It was the 3rd, and the Truce was over. Little did they know how quickly the violence would start.
Ripplescale Redfeather, Jedi Knight, awoke to the gentle warmth of sunlight streaming through the window, casting soft rays of golden light across the room. Stretching their lithe, saurian body, they could feel the softness of the human bed beneath them, providing a comforting support. As they rose, the faint scent of fresh linen mingled with the crisp morning air, invigorating their senses. Then they remembered where they were, and why.
With a determined resolve and no little heartache dripping like poison, Ripplescale made their way to Cavalier Park, the sound of birds chirping and leaves rustling in the gentle breeze filling the air. Amidst the serene surroundings, they began their katas, their movements fluid and precise, as they sought to banish the haunting images and unwelcome thoughts that plagued their mind.
As they finished their morning meditation, a shipment of crystals and geodes arrived, glimmering and catching the light. Excitement filled the air as they eagerly began the process of synthesizing Kyber. The solution they created had a surprisingly mundane appearance, but its faint radioactive glow and intense corrosiveness added an edge of danger to the atmosphere. The process took a couple of days, during which they could feel the anticipation building. They knew that they would only have the protosaber ready by the time the Truce ended.
Realizing the urgency, they started preparing different weapons, opting for an electro-staff. This classic weapon had stood the test of time in galactic warfare, its design remaining relatively unchanged. The familiarity and ease of construction made it the logical choice. With that completed in two and a half hours, next was larger scale power packs, boring but necessary as prototypes for production models.
Legend arriving meant that had to pull themself out of the workshop.
Legend stood in his blue and gray costume, the colors vibrant against the backdrop of their workshop. With a contemplative gaze, he looked out into the distance, his mind deep in thought. Breaking the silence, he spoke quietly, his voice barely audible.
"I left Cauldron," he revealed.
Ripplescale, standing by his side, nodded in understanding. The sound of distant traffic filled the air, a constant reminder of the bustling city beyond their sanctuary. Ripplescale's scaled hand gently rested on Legend's shoulder, providing a comforting touch.
"Good," Ripplescale responded, their voice filled with conviction. "They do not deserve you. I assume you found out about their lies?"
"I… I asked them. To tell me the truth," Legend started, "and do you know what they did? Do you know what they said? Contessa told me that it was better if I kept being lied to, better that I was kept in the dark. She claimed it would result in a greater chance of victory. And when I asked anyone to speak, they just looked at me. Looked at me like I was some kind of zoo animal or spectacle," he hissed, deeply upset. "I left. I couldn't take it anymore, knowing that there was something hidden from me, something kept from me, and no one had the audacity to meet my eyes and tell me the simple truth about what it was."
"Would you like to know?" they asked the Protectorate leader simply, and he nodded.
"To be honest, it is Cauldron who is accountable for the existence of the Case 53s. Their testing failures have not ceased; rather, they have become more proficient at concealing them from you. Inside Cauldron prisons on other Earths, there are countless Case 53s, numbering in the thousands. They are meant little more than as a distraction against the Enemy, to die a near-pointless death achieving nothing."
Legend was stunned. "They really did lie to me…" he murmured.
"Of course they did. They knew you would never agree to half of what they get up to, running the United States through assassination and blackmail, the Nemesis Program, kidnapping and imprisoning people inter-dimensionally, various crimes against sentients; they knew you would try to stop them."
"The Nemesis Program?"
"Programmable villains using brainwashed Case 53s, meant for up and coming heroes to take out," they said quietly. "They even brainwashed them to lose on purpose. What's another life ruined and turned into a tool for evil, if it meant the survival of humanity?"
Legend looked sick.
"I'm glad you left. Truly, they don't deserve you."
He nodded tightly. "Is there more?"
"I'm sure there is, but I do not know all of Cauldron's crimes."
Legend nodded again, frowning, a look of contemplation on his face. "I should have realized the Cases were ours. That the formulas wouldn't suddenly work better, especially with Manton on the run."
"Maybe, but they were keeping it from you, probably using powers to protect the information. But enough of such grim talk. We need to get started. We shall grab Battery as well," they told Legend. "I should awaken her sooner than later. Let us travel to this Captain's Hill of yours, so she may view the city at a remove when she is opened to the Force."
"Yes, Master," Legend tried to joke and Ripplescale hissed in displeasure, turning on him whip-fast.
"I am not your Master, Initiate. You still have much to learn before I could ever be. And besides, that word is taboo here and unnecessary. I will be your teacher, your guide to the Force. You have no need for a Master, to rule your life."
"Well, that's certainly true. Shall you be my Teacher then? Sensei?"
"Teacher would be fine, if not for that despicable man. If you must call me anything, I suppose I can accept Sensei, but I would rather you just call me Ripplescale."
"Yes, Sensei," Legend said, amused and Ripplescale sighed.
Battery was available and joined them in a PRT van, nervous and excited as she clambered in to the tight fit.
Conversation revealed the two were longtime friends, Battery having been a Ward in the New York Protectorate. Ripplescale was content to listen to the two chatter, as Legend subtly tried to calm the nervous Battery. They were dropped off at the parking lot halfway up the hill, and walked the rest of the way. It was a little before eleven AM, as they took the gravel path lined with vibrant, blooming flowers, their colors painting a picturesque scene. The Hill, a semi-manicured meadow, exuded a gentle fragrance of freshly cut grass and wildflowers. It was adorned with a couple of majestic trees, including a towering oak at the top of the hill, casting a comforting shade. The trio chose this serene spot as their gathering place, feeling the cool breeze caress their skin.
Legend settled down against the tree to meditate, while Ripplescale took Battery to the very center of the hill.
"My name is Ripplescale. It is not a cape name, a name to hide behind. Would you mind introducing yourself to me as your true name before we go any further?" they said to Battery.
"Joslyn."
They nodded, before solemnly intoning, "Joslyn, are you willing to accept the mantle of the Force? To take the first step in becoming a Jedi, a defender of all living beings, and a protector of this planet?"
She nodded resolutely, staring straight into their eyes, their words ringing with truth. "I am."
"Then step forward and take my hand."
It was like seeing God in everything, Joslyn thought in amazement. As she connected with the Force, the world unveiled its interlaced relations, meticulously binding it into a state of perfect imperfection, like a well-oiled clockwork. In awe, she witnessed the profound interconnectedness of life, where every action, from the tiniest microorganism to the mightiest ruler, held deep meaning. She found herself crying, smiling, looking at Ripplescale who's kind blue-white eyes carried the depths of wisdom inside them.
"It all means something," she said, unable to stop the smile blossoming across her face, her cheeks high and tight. "It really means something."
It was as if a veil had been lifted, and she could now sense the Light of the Force surrounding her, a subtle tingling sensation that whispered of ancient wisdom, true goodness and infinite possibilities. Had the Light, the Force always been there and humanity just blind to it? It seemed impossible. Yet it also seemed impossible that it had just blossomed into existence around a single person, no matter how strange or powerful Ripplescale was.
Joslyn pondered, thinking back to instances when her instincts would unexpectedly intensify, signaling danger even when there were no apparent risks. Nevertheless, she always trusted her gut feelings, and they consistently proved to be correct. Just seconds later, she narrowly escaped attacks that were intended for a Brute, incidents that would have resulted in her demise or serious injury, if she hadn't activated her power.
Other capes often had instincts like hers, though not all listened to them. Challenger certainly hadn't, and it had cost her Brockton Bay. These instincts, sometimes referred colloquially as 'guardian angels,' weren't something much talked about, or even studied, yet word and tales spread amongst Parahumans, older taking younger aside and explaining to them to always listen to their instincts, that someday it would save their life.
The Force felt like a powerful blend of these instincts mixed with a new set of powers, amplified to an extraordinary level and infused with the brilliance of God's light. She was certain now that those that spoke of God's light, of the endless white heaven, were speaking of the Force and the Light Side. The profound connection, the revelation of the divine clockwork of life, the endless soft glow, the feeling of capital g Goodness, all of it was nigh-religious and instilled in Joslyn and profound sense of contentment and hope.
With the demise of an Endbringer and the undeniable reality of the Light, Joslyn experienced a profound sense of hope for the first time in years. Legend grinned at them.
"It's a trip, huh? Like God is real and whispering in your ear," he said.
"I can see why the Jedi are a religious organization, if they feel like this all the time…" Joslyn replied.
"It is hard to see the Light and not become at least spiritual, though there are secular Force Sensitives scattered about the galaxy, practicing the Force without viewing it as more than a tool. Or… there were…" Joslyn could feel Ripplescale's mood plunge, only for them to wrestle it under control, calming themself.
Keith put a hand on their flank, patting them. "I've never been much for religion, if you can't guess, but I think I can make an exception for the Jedi. It's a lot harder to deny that there's something to the Light, you know?"
"It's God's work," Joslyn said firmly.
"Which god?" asked Ripplescale, confused.
"God. The big one. The Creator of the universe, and all life."
A trill came from their lips. "You are monotheists. How interesting! Not many monotheists thrive in the Corsuca galaxy, too many useful gods to pray to. Tell me more about this God of yours, what does He require of His followers?"
Between Joslyn and Keith, they clumsily pieced together a rough understanding of basic Christian theology. Neither of them were particularly religious.
"The human preoccupation with punishment and the concept of hells has always perplexed me," Ripplescale murmured. "Nevertheless, if you perceive the hand of the Creator in the Force and the Light, I respect your viewpoint. Many a Jedi found signs of their own religious awakening inside the Force, though it is not a topic often discussed. As a newly made Jedi Knight, thirty years ago, I myself encountered powerful visions and revelations that I was convinced originated from the Goddess Lashni-Rukov-Alakeesh, the three-faced Binder of Fate for the Aelayir people. Three visions I received from the Goddess and three times I sought her priests, seeking answers, though what I received was profoundly lacking."
Joslyn was fascinated. Keith replied, "And then what happened?"
"The priests denied me the first time. 'Your eyes are blind' they told me, 'and you are fettered.' They considered Jedi at best to be fools, and worse, slaves. The second time they listened to my vision, but did nothing except mutter and murmur amongst themselves about its meaning. The third time I came, they spoke first. 'Fettered and blind, yet the Goddess speaks through you, weaving a grand tapestry around you in the coming decades. Your fate sends you far and away, if you speak this final vision to us.' I considered it for a long while, maybe an hour, but the priests were patient. And then I told them my third vision."
"What did you see?" Joslyn couldn't help asking.
"As the first vision unfolded, two stars, one radiant gold and the other shimmering silver, traveled across the vast expanse of the cosmos. With each step, they set ablaze the planets they encountered, until a sinister black star approached and handed them a chalice filled with poison. Above a pale blue dot, the silver drank deeply. As the second vision unfurled, I witnessed the galaxy spinning, the lights flickering out like distant bonfires fading amidst the emptiness, until all that remained was a single, radiant yellow star defiantly shining against the encroaching entropy, the same pale blue dot orbiting the star. In the third vision, I saw a strange city, filled with dilapidated buildings and crumbling infrastructure. People, dressed in vibrant and eccentric costumes, stood fearlessly in the face of a colossal green crystalline lizard, and I stood amongst them in unfamiliar armor, surrounded by unfamiliar Jedi. I recognize it now as Brockton Bay, and the creature as Leviathan."
"Wait. You're telling me you had a vision thirty years ago of Brockton Bay being attacked by an Endbringer, that you claim some Goddess sent you?"
"The Goddess or the Force, but yes. I'm not sure there's much of a distinction, to be honest. Fate Deities are notoriously interchangeable with the Force itself."
"How is that possible?" asked Joslyn, utterly confused.
"In the Force, all things are possible," the Jedi said, infuriatingly.
"So we have an Endbringer to expect," Keith murmured, staring out onto the city.
"Yes, we do, but enough talk about fates and visions. If it happens, it will happen. For now, let us focus on the Force, and how to manipulate it," Ripplescale said, adopting a teaching tone.
Despite her perplexed thoughts about the vastness of the Force and the seemingly impossible visions of other universes, she centered herself through familiar meditation techniques to find mental clarity. Ripplescale approved, and she got to work, learning the Force beside Keith.
Feb 28th - Mar 2nd
During the remainder of the Truce, Ripplescale toiled diligently, the rhythmic hum of machinery drowning out intrusive thoughts. The workshop buzzed with activity as they focused on crafting training protosabers, their bulkiness evident in the reinforced containment field that safeguarded against fatal injuries. The sight of the imposing body armor, both large and hulking, filled the space, while the air carried the metallic tang of ongoing fabrication.
They meticulously tinkered with basic technologies, envisioning their adaptation for Earth Bet's use, particularly in power technology and aerospace technology. Their first blaster, a massive two-handed contraption, required an immense power pack to discharge its formidable energy. The power scientists had taken one look and claimed it, going hog wild in breaking down how exactly it functioned. With every passing day, Ripplescale diligently worked on producing more compact power packs, the whirring of machinery growing quieter as advancements were made.
Meanwhile, their first through third batches of Kyber crystals slowly grew, their luminescent glow casting a mesmerizing aura in the room. In addition, they delved into the intricate task of forging blaster gasses, blending noble gases with irradiated counterparts, infused with negative ions. The resulting mixtures, filling the air with a faint chemical scent, held the potential to be devastatingly effective.
Undeterred by the laborious nature of the process, they embarked on crafting beskar armor, a complex endeavor that would consume weeks, if not months of their time. The tactile sensation of working with the durable material, their hands moving with purpose and precision, hinted at the life-saving capabilities it possessed, should they ever find themselves facing another lightsaber-wielding opponent.
When Ripplescale wasn't in their lab, they could be found meditating in Cavilier Park in the early mornings, the gentle rustle of leaves and chirping of birds creating a serene atmosphere, as they danced amongst the greenery in their katas. Over the course of the week, they became a familiar sight, a fixed figure amidst the tranquil surroundings. In the afternoons, Ripplescale would teach Legend and Battery, Keith and Joslyn, the ways of the Force on Captain's Hill. The afternoon sun bathed the hill in warm golden hues, casting long shadows as they trained.
Under Ripplescale's expert guidance, Keith and Joslyn advanced swiftly, their progress evident as they effortlessly reached out in the Force. By the second day, they were capable of manipulating sticks and leaves in a group, causing them to wobble and float in the air. Joslyn, in particular, possessed a natural talent for imbuing herself with the Force, enabling her to move with agility and react with remarkable speed. At the end of each session, Ripplescale would have the two spar using only the Force, devoid of any other supernatural powers.
The air on top of Captain's Hill crackled with anticipation as the two Initiates faced off using martial arts, their movements fluid and precise in a way they hadn't been before awakening to the Force. Keith, although slower in grasping the Force, showed steady improvement. However, despite Keith's efforts, Joslyn emerged victorious every time, her innate skill at using the Force to imbue and amplify her movements evident in her every action, the instincts of her power having taught her well.
Keith's muscles strained as he launched a furious series of punches, his fists slicing through the air like arrows. But Joslyn effortlessly sidestepped each blow, her lithe form dancing with grace. With a sudden burst of speed, Keith unleashed a devastating roundhouse kick, aiming for Joslyn's temple. Yet, she effortlessly ducked under his attack, her body moving as if guided by an unseen force.
The ground trembled beneath them as Keith channeled his frustration, summoning the Force to enhance his strikes instinctually and clumsily. His fist almost seemed to crackle with energy, unleashing a powerful blast towards Joslyn's chest.
But she was quicker than lightning, her senses attuned to the ebb and flow of the Force. With a deft twist of her body, she dodged, sending it spiraling harmlessly into the surrounding air. Keith's eyes widened in awe as he witnessed Joslyn's mastery. She moved with an otherworldly finesse, her every motion a testament to the raw power coursing through both their veins.
In one swift motion, Joslyn closed the distance between them, her hand darting forward like a viper striking its prey. The air seemed to crackle with tension as her palm connected with Keith's chest, the impact echoing through the quiet hilltop. He was sent hurtling backward, crashing into a tree with a bone-jarring crack, the scent of freshly broken branches filling the air.
Gasping for air, Keith struggled to regain his footing. His body ached, but his determination burned bright. He refused to be defeated, to let his limitations define him. Summoning every ounce of strength, Keith charged forward, his movements fueled by sheer will. His strikes became faster, more precise, as the Force itself flowed through his very being and he floated in a bubble of calm, relying heavily on the active meditation technique Ripplescale taught them.
The air seemed to crackle with intensity as Keith and Joslyn clashed once more, their bodies a blur of motion. Each strike carried the weight of their training, both Protectorate and Jedi, the culmination of endless hours of sweat and sacrifice. But in the end, it was Joslyn who emerged triumphant, her every move a symphony of power and elegance. Keith, though defeated, couldn't help but admire her skill, her new, yet unwavering connection to the Force.
Addressing matters of the Code also took up some time, as both capes had questions about what exactly was allowed and forbidden. And the honest truth was Ripplescale had seen what forbidding had done to the Jedi, so for some things they had no answers. Relationships couldn't be forbidden. Ripplescale had no say in telling anyone who not to love, and both of their rapidly learning force-sensitives were in long-term committed relationships. They also had no intention of returning to the traditional method of gaining students, though it confused Ripplescale how vehemently the two were against such practices. They figured it must be a cultural more.
And then, on the crisp morning of March 2nd, the air carried a sense of anticipation. The first batch of Kyber crystals, their vibrant energy resonating in the Force, were finally ready. Ripplescale could almost hear their faint hum, like a melody in their mind that had been missing since Canberra.
Before the sun could even break the horizon, they meticulously prepared their protosaber, a rough and heavy weapon of power. With nimble hands, they attached the latest power pack, its compact size allowing it to rest comfortably on their shoulder. Carefully, they placed the precious Kyber crystals into a bag, feeling the subtle pull of the Force from some of them, but ignoring their beckoning call. Their Initiates would have the first choice.
Without hesitation, Ripplescale reached out to Keith. "If you would like to join me at Captain's Hill, I have a gift for you and Joslyn," they said quietly, knowing sleep still held him half-captive. The words stirred Keith from his slumber, his curiosity piqued.
Excitement coursing through his veins, Keith swiftly replied, his voice laced with anticipation, "I'll be there in half an hour."
"I'll be waiting."
Then they called Joslyn. "Mm-yes? Battery speaking."
"It's Ripplescale. Can you get to Captain's Hill in half an hour? I have a gift for you and Keith that I think you'll enjoy."
A yawn came over the line. "I can be there, yeah. Is it that important?"
"Come and see."
Then they flew to the hill and waited. By the time fifteen minutes were up Legend was there in costume, yawning, while Battery had just finished hiking up the Hill. Ripplescale sat beneath the old oak, with the protosabers lying on the grass before them. The two settled on the grass in front of Ripplescale, gazing curiously at the technology.
"Are these the gifts?" asked Keith.
"These are training protosabers," Ripplescale answered as the morning breeze rustled the leaves overhead and dawn barely peeked over the horizon "I don't have miniaturized power packs down yet, so we need to rely on these hip-side or backside power pack for the time being."
They paused, waiting for questions, and when they received none they continued.
"As the morning sun rises, take the time to find a Kyber crystal that speaks to your soul, and let its mystical essence guide your meditation. Feel it in the Force. These are no ordinary crystals. One could call them living things and not be wrong, though their existence is very different from most lifeforms. Then, when you are ready, use the Force to inset the Kyber into the protosaber. When you feel a click, you've succeeded and should have a fulling functioning protosaber."
Each of them held a thick tube with blocky housing, for the stronger containment field, with a cable trailing to a hip-side power pack attached to a new belt for Joslyn and a small backpack sized power pack for Keith.
"Now, since you aren't actually children, and sometime you will be in situations where you need to kill or maim, if you press the red switch and the green switch at the same time the containment field will drop in strength to a regular lightsaber, allowing lethal blows. Do not abuse that knowledge. You are not ready for a real lightsaber yet. Certainly not full time. Is that understood?"
They both nodded their heads and said yes.
"Good, now I want you to rummage in this bag until you find a Kyber crystal that calls to you. You should be able to sense it in the Force, even as untrained as you both are."
Keith carefully pulled out a shimmering gold crystal, its radiant glow captivating to the eyes. The Kyber emitted a melodic hum that filled the air with the power of the Light, resonating deeply within Ripplescale's heart, but they were happy it chose Legend as well. Battery, on the other hand, delicately revealed a sleek and graceful blue crystal singing of protection, its smooth surface glistening under the ambient light. Ripplescale themselves retrieved a captivating purple crystal, emanating a song of violent justice that filled the air with a profound sense of righteousness and pride.
With utmost precision, they effortlessly slotted their purple crystal into their lightsaber, guided by the invisible hand of the Force. The smooth click of the crystal settling into place brought a sense of accomplishment to their fingertips. They then dedicated themselves to assisting their Initiates, ensuring that each crystal was aligned perfectly, and offering guidance to make any necessary adjustments.
As the preparations neared completion, a sense of anticipation filled the air. The scene was charged with a palpable energy, as if the very Force itself was holding its breath.
"Knowing that you both are proven heroes, I entrust you with these sacred weapons, confident that you will wield them responsibly and only in times of true need. Honor your protosabers, and the Kyber that lies within, and let the Force guide your hand in battle, and you will stand before every enemy as a rock before the flood. You will join me every morning for lightsaber practice. We will begin with Shii-Cho, the traditional first form."
"Every morning?" Keith questioned. "I cannot do every morning. I have a home life, a kid and a husband."
"Will every other morning suffice, then?"
Keith frowned but nodded, reluctantly. "I can try."
They sighed. Things must change, but they would raise up no weekend warrior as a Jedi. "Or you may join me as much as you are willing and able. I will teach lessons in the park every morning one of you comes. Otherwise I will be meditating."
"I'd like the weekends off, but I can get up early during the week," said Joslyn, feeling excited.
"Very well, I will try to come as often as I can. I find Brockton Bay nicely quiet after dealing with New York. I can come in the mornings too, sometimes," Keith answered.
"I know I am asking a lot of you, both. Learning new powers, philosophy, ethics, and now martial arts. I will push you hard and quick, for we do not have time. The world is ending, Joslyn, Keith. I think we all know that, but the Force made it quite certain to me. I don't intend to let it happen, however. This world needs Jedi, those that can do what must be done."
"And what is it that you think must be done?" Legend asked, honestly curious. "Yes, you ask a lot, but you offer more. I am uncertain of your end goal, though."
"The re-establishment of some kind of Jedi Order, a planetary organization of Force wielders, dedicated to the Light and seeking to right wrongs, and deal with existential threats to the planet."
"So you want to be something like the Guild? Taking on bounties and S-Class threats?" Battery asked.
"And handling HOSV, and Quarantine Sites. Traveling, taking care of small town supervillains, and large-scale threats alike. Going where the Force guides them. Traveling the world, dealing with threats large and small. That's my end goal. A reborn Jedi Order. But that is after I fix Brockton Bay."
Battery smiled. "When you say it, I kind of believe it, that some day there'll be a real Jedi Order, standing for justice and the Light."
"Believe it," Ripplescale said, their voice filled with passion, the words echoing in the meadow on top the Hill. The air crackled with anticipation as they continued, their eyes shining with determination. "You will be its heralds, the originating nucleus of a New Jedi Order." A brief silence hung, filled only with the sound of their steady breaths. "But enough talking. Let us move our limbs," they said, their voice commanding, as they prepared to demonstrate.
With a snap-hiss, the protosaber ignited, its vibrant violet blade casting a warm glow on the surroundings. The scent of ozone filled the air, adding an electric tang to the atmosphere. As the hum of the protosaber reverberated in the air, a sense of safety washed over Ripplescale, relieving the tension that had plagued them for days. They were truly a Jedi again, in every sense.
Keith and Joslyn, their bodies tense yet eager, absorbed every detail, their eyes locked on Ripplescale's every move. With a fluidity born from their familiarity with martial arts, they swiftly grasped the foundations of Shii-Cho. The hours flew by, filled with the sound of their footsteps in the grass and the swish of their blades through the air, as they made remarkable progress. In a mere fraction of the time it takes most students, they surpassed expectations, their dedication evident in every precise movement they replicated.
The early evening air crackled with anticipation as the two apprentices faced off, Joslyn's and Keith's movements semi-fluid and imprecise, their blades swinging through the air with a ungraceful swish. It was a middling lightsaber spar, but the first one on Earth Bet, and therefore infinitely more special.
Sparks erupted as their blades clashed, a shower of fiery defiance as azure met aureate in a flash of white. Joslyn's eyes blazed with determination, her every strike fueled by unyielding resolve. Keith's grin was a mix of excitement and nerves, his instincts and basic Kendo training guiding his every move.
They danced across the meadow, their footsteps echoing with growing purpose, each more confident than the last. Each swing carried the weight of their dreams, the desire to prove themselves worthy of the honor Knight Ripplescale gave them. The air hummed with their energy, crackling with the promise of greatness.
Joslyn lunged forward, her blade aimed at Keith's chest, a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Keith parried with a flash, his own counterattack slicing through the air like a streak of lightning, their blades meeting like thunder. The clash of plasma reverberated with a harsh squeal, a symphony of determination and strength.
Their movements became blurred as each tapped into the Force, a whirlwind of flashing lights and swift strikes, blue blade meeting gold, over and over. They weaved through the meadow, their bodies fluid and limbs agile, a testament to their career heroism. Each parry, each dodge, brought them closer to their destiny as true Jedi, both Joslyn and Keith learning with every moment they fought, learning from each other. The spar was a symphony of lightsabers locked in an eternal struggle, one never overcoming the other more than temporarily.
When they finished, exhausted, they stood side by side, their chests heaving, their gazes locked, grins on each face. Earth Bet had witnessed its first lightsaber spar, a tie, a testament to their unshakeable determination, and proof they had much further to go than here.
The air crackled with anticipation, but now it crackled with something more. It crackled with the birth of legends, the birth of heroes. And as they sheathed their blades, they knew, deep in their hearts, that this was only the beginning. They would be Jedi.
When Ripplescale wasn't in Cavalier Park in the tranquil morning working through their feelings, or on Captain's Hill after a hearty lunch working with their Initiates, they immersed themselves in their Tinker workshop, surrounded by the scent of oil and metal shavings. The clanging of tools and the whirring of machines filled the air, creating a symphony of creativity, as they worked on various technologies and gadgets.
As evening approached, dinner was a special affair for Ripplescale, often featuring towering stacks of succulent, meticulously prepared meats and handfuls of fresh citrus. However, on a delightful Wednesday before the Truce ended, they were greeted with a tantalizing surprise - a whole pig carcass, raw but expertly seasoned with zesty lemon, tangy lime, and aromatic garlic pepper. Though not the traditional hailyukqueeza meal they remember—a whole raw kqueez dipped in traditional aromatic spices and citrus juices of the hail tree, both native to their homeworld—the delicious and satisfying flavors danced on their palate and the texture was nostalgic, leaving them content and fulfilled and missing home.
Their dreams painted a picture of tall towers adorned with blooming vines and sprawling trees that served as entire neighborhoods, while city streets were remodeled into lush green spaces, a dream of the Sauryxia they knew and loved, until a destructive fire came to ravage it all. Alongside the fire came the imposition of false order, as white armored soldiers advanced in a rigid formation, their synchronized gunfire drowning out the sounds of protest and death. They woke up sweaty, their head throbbing, and despite the early hour, went to Cavalier Park, eager to work the images out of their mind.
It was the 3rd, and the Truce was over. Little did they know how quickly the violence would start.
Chapter 7
New
Adullahan
Know what you're doing yet?
- Joined
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Edited content 9/17 Slightly less violent
Mar 3rd
The PR job that Erica Beaumont landed was truly the opportunity of a lifetime; to interview one of the Endslayers themselves, the enigmatic Case 53 Ripplescale. The cape, despite being quite available to Brockton Bay, had yet to officially appear in interviews or news programs about the Angelfall. She couldn't believe her luck, that the world-famous cape would chose to settle in the Bay and in turn the PRT would chose her. It had turned her unofficial exile into something that could be the stepping stone back into the upper echelons of PR, back to New York City. All she had to do was nail the interview of a lifetime.
Erica and the team did the interview in Cavalier Park, recording wonderful B-Roll of the startlingly large prehistoric Case 53 dancing about doing their martial arts. Their violet laser sword darting this way and that lent credence to the 'Jedi' rumors that had been spreading on PHO. They also got footage of them meditating and generally 'vibing' as they used their power to delicately lift stones around themself, sending them orbiting in circles of resonance. When the team got enough, and Ripplescale finished their 'Form VII'—a strikingly violent and swift series of movements that seemed to almost radiate controlled malice—she joined the cape on a blanket, the two of them looking like they were having a casual conversation in the park.
"Thank you so much for letting us join you this morning, Knight Ripplescale," she said, as the cameras started rolling. "I have some questions that I think a lot of people have been waiting to hear answered."
The dinosaur smiled at her before opening their mouth, revealing sharp serrated teeth. "Thank you for letting me have the opportunity to tell my story and speak with the world, as it were. I'd be glad to answer any questions you have."
"First of all, the oft repeated claim that you fell out of the sky before the attack on Canberra. Is that true? Was the Day the Angel Fell truly your first you can remember?" Erica asked, curious herself. To think, finding yourself lost and alone, falling through the sky, only to have to join in battle against a monster like the Simurgh. To actually win? It baffled the mind how lucky the world was Knight Ripplescale appeared that day.
Their answer was the first sign there was something far stranger, and far more interesting, going on with Ripplescale than the average Case 53.
"To answer this truthfully, I must admit something about myself that is true about no other Case 53. I remember my past. I remember it vividly, painfully at times. I know my name and my people and the history of my Republic. I am not from Earth Bet. In the language of English, my home planet's name is Coruscating Light. It is a world much like Earth, where life thrives in diverse habitats - from sprawling deserts and lush forests, to vast plains and towering mountains, and from deep oceans to expansive icefields. But yes, my first moment on Earth Bet was falling through the sky above Canberra."
All of the other questions fled from her mind. She glanced at Legend—who had joined the Case 53 halfway through their exercises, pulling out his own laser sword—and Legend nodded.
"He's telling the truth. Thinker analysis confirms it," Legend said.
An entire other world, another Earth like Aleph, and somehow this cape had made the journey to Bet. Do all Case 53s come from other Earths? It would explain why they don't match up with missing person reports. Questions swirled in Erica's mind, her curiosity burning brightly. But what to ask first?
"What were you doing before you… arrived on Earth Bet? What was the journey like?"
Their tail began to swish back and forth, as they answered. "I was assaulting the capital Biraxis of a region known as the Almethean Reach. You must understand, the Republic has been fighting a civil war on Coruscating Light for three long years, and members of the Order, capes, like myself are, were, the generals of the Republic. We lead the soldiers from the front, wielding our lightsabers and our powers."
She ignored that they called it a lightsaber. That meant nothing to her. "So you're a soldier, then?"
"No, I am a Monk of the Light, and a member of the Order. We follow the Path, and bend to the Light, eschewing the Darkness and those that fall to its black embrace. But because of our powers, we were the ones chosen to lead the clone armies of the Republic against the machine army of the Confederation and their Dark masters, the Dwellers in the Dark, who follow the Path and fall to Darkness."
There was so much she wanted to ask, wanted to clarify, but she had to focus. "What is this Path?"
"The Path is an energy field that permeates all life forms, connects even the smallest bacterium to the most complex organisms, and all thinking beings to each other. As powers are utilized, they tap into the energy field, but if used with anger, passion, or selfishness, a gradual, or not so gradual, fall into Darkness occurs. When powers are utilized to help others selflessly, treating them with kindness, compassion, and generosity, you bend towards the Light. As a Monk of the Light, I seek to better others and the world around me with the use of my powers. Even now, stuck as I am on another planet, in a different dimension, I trust the Path to guide me."
As the interview progressed, they covered a wide range of topics, some relevant some not, as she occasionally remembered to ask the questions she actually intended to use, before she had gotten so thoroughly derailed by the utterly strange tale being told.
For how long has their Earth possessed powers?
"Coruscating Light has had powers for far far longer than your Earth Aleph and Bet, and the first ancestor to the Order is over six thousand years old," they explained to a frankly fascinated Erica. "It was known even back then, that were there was radiant Light, so too there would be cloying Darkness. The Monks of the Light have sought to defend the peoples of Coruscating Light from the depredations of the Dwellers in the Dark for countless generations across a thousand thousand battlefields, and our civil war is only the latest front in an endless war for total victory or defeat by the Dwellers in the Dark."
Erica couldn't help but feel a sense of dread at the idea of enduring six thousand years of Parahumanity. Six thousand years of capes wrecking the world. Yet, until their civil war, started by villains, this Earth had a planetary government. Could Earth Bet have ever achieved that? She didn't think so.
Has their appearance always resembled that of a dinosaur, or were they initially born as human and later transformed?
"I am from a region known as Sauryxia. I am not a conventional Case 53, as I was born this way, from a clutch of eggs as is traditional, as my mother was born and her mother. Multiple thinking species live on, above, and below the surface of Coruscating Light, and the Sauraptorians, my people, are one of them. But I was born with a power, and so I was given up to the temple of the Order and raised to be a Monk, as was proper."
That answer had her clarifying exactly what they meant, and Ripplescale did so, truly claiming that their Earth was home to multiple intelligent species, specifically naming seven, including humans and Sauraptorians, and described them in detail. She was stunned at the thought of humanity being only one of seven thinking species on Earth. What kind of madhouse had this cape come from?
A reference was made to a clone army, could they elaborate on its intended significance?
"We fought the war alongside clones rather than volunteers or a draft army. All of the clones are of the same man; a famous mercenary and notorious Monk-killer named Jango. The Republic was compelled to pay a significant price to the Tinkers who had engineered the hidden clone army, in order to keep up the constant stream of clones needed to fight the never-ending war against the Confederation's machine army. Despite the signs that should have alerted us to their betrayal, I was unaware until it was too late, and I suspect my fellow Monks were equally blindsided. Captain Jax was putting a laser bolt in my chest when I found myself in the skies over Earth Bet. Since then I've tried not to think too much about what is most assuredly happening on Coruscating Light without the protection of the Monks, as the Dwellers in the Dark assume control of the planet." Their tail thrashed and their voice sounded distant.
Erica's blood ran cold as a wave of horror washed over her. A group of villains had gained control over the entire Earth, leaving it in their merciless hands. The nightmare of Earth Bet, but it's already happening to Ripplescale's home.
"The Dwellers will fall," they declared with fierce determination, vowing to dismantle their twisted works and false order, when they return to Coruscating Light. Of course, they hadn't the first clue of how to return, only that it was possible, Ripplescale told her, for they had made the journey once, and they would make it again, with a New Order at their back.
Erica continued to ask more questions, often receiving complete answers, while other times sensing Ripplescale's guardedness almost tangibly.
"Finally, there's been much chatter and speculation, given your 'lightsaber' and your ability with telekinesis, as well as persistent rumors on PHO, that you are pretending to be a Jedi," Erica said with a laugh, not returned. "What do you have to say to such claims?"
They were silent for a long moment, the Case 53 looking almost humanly uncomfortable before Legend spoke up. "Let's cut that last question. It isn't relevant, do you have another one?"
"No, I can answer," Ripplescale replied. "I am not pretending to be anything. I am myself, and I am what my Order made me, for good and ill. With my sacred lightsaber in hand, I stand as a Monk of the Light, using my formidable powers to spread goodness and uphold justice. If that happens to bear a resemblance to some schlock called Star Wars, maybe reality is truly stranger than anything we could imagine."
And wasn't that the truth? An Earth with over half a dozen sentient species, where powers had been a fact of life for millennia and the Parahuman dynamic was ingrained with a deep spirituality, yet still managed to shake out true.
"I want to express my sincere gratitude, Knight Ripplescale. Throughout this interview, we have embarked on a mesmerizing odyssey through your extraordinary life and the profound consequences of Parahumanity on diverse Earths. Simultaneously, it has served as a terrifying cautionary tale, highlighting the dangers of unchecked villainy and providing a glimpse into the potential trajectory of our own world. Thank you so much for speaking with me today."
"It was my pleasure, Erica. Perhaps we can do it again, when I am ready to tell stories from the War."
She carefully kept her face calm, but inside she was shrieking with excitement. Oh, could this day not get any better? Hours later, she watched the news in horror, as it certainly got worse.
"It is done," Fortuna told Doctor Mother. "We should get an accurate reading on the full extent of the Alien's abilities and what it has taught Legend and Battery in the short time it spent with them."
Doctor Mother nodded, her expression a mix of anticipation and caution. "Indeed, Fortuna. Assessing the Alien's abilities and its impact on Legend and Battery is crucial for our understanding of their potential. The remarkable speed at which they have acquired proficiency in the Force and lightsaber combat is intriguing and speaks to power-enhanced training. We must gather precise data to uncover the extent of their newfound skills, as well as what methods of insidious control the Alien may have."
Fortuna's confidence radiated as she continued, "Rest assured, the process should proceed smoothly without encountering any significant challenges. The actual threat level is minimal, and these so-called Jedis are, at worst, at risk of being crippled."
Doctor Mother's brow furrowed slightly, concern flickering across her face. "Even Legend? We can't have one of the Triumvirate taken down with a gun. Think of the consequences."
"I made sure they intend to target the Alien, not Legend. While they dislike Legend of course, their hatred for the Alien burns bright, viewing them as everything currently wrong in the world; a Case 53, non-conforming and incredibly powerful yet doesn't use that power, and most of all, they ruined the fun of Simurgh battles." Fortuna couldn't help the disdain that crept into her voice.
Doctor Mother's concern deepened as she processed Fortuna's words. The potential danger to Legend was not something she could dismiss lightly. The Triumvirate held immense power and influence, and losing one of their members would have far-reaching consequences.
"Fortuna, we cannot underestimate the risk. Legend is a symbol of hope for many, and his absence would be felt deeply. We must take all necessary precautions to ensure his safety," Doctor Mother insisted, her voice laced with determination.
Fortuna's eyes narrowed, her confidence momentarily wavering. She understood the gravity of the situation but remained steadfast in her assessment. "I assure you, Doctor Mother, the plan is carefully devised. Legend will not be targeted and should be out of permanent harm's way. Our priority is to gather information on the Alien and its effects on both him and Battery."
Doctor Mother sighed, realizing the delicate balance they were attempting to maintain, even after Keith had left. The Triumvirate had faced numerous threats in the past, but this new development posed unique challenges. The unknown capabilities of the Alien and its potential influence on their allies demanded a thorough investigation.
"Very well, Fortuna," Doctor Mother conceded, her voice tinged with caution. "Proceed with the assessment, but be vigilant. We cannot afford any missteps or compromises in our efforts to understand this situation fully. Hastiness is how we got in this situation."
Fortuna nodded, her determination renewed. "I will ensure the safety of our assets while gathering the necessary data. We will uncover the truth behind the Alien's abilities and assess their impact on our allies. The Triumvirate's strength must not be compromised further."
As the two women exchanged a final glance, their shared resolve echoed in that simple white room. They knew their actions would shape the future, not only for the Triumvirate and Cauldron but for Earth Bet itself. The potential repercussions of underestimating the Alien's influence were too great to ignore, and they were prepared to face any challenges that lay ahead. In the shadows of their conversation, unseen forces were set into motion, destinies entwined, and a dangerous game of manipulation and power played out. The consequences of their actions would reverberate far beyond what either of them could imagine.
The first sign something was wrong was the number of trucks and unmarked vans in the parking lot, but Keith spent little mind on the matter. As the interview progressed, Ripplescales skillfully crafted a believable story, while Keith silently plotted the eventual unveiling of Ripplescales' true identity to the heads of the Protectorate and Parahuman Response Team. It would be tough for the heads to understand, but it was the first step in making sure that Knight Ripplescale could live their life truthfully. They deserved that much.
The second, far more glaring sign, happened while Ripplescale was assisting himself and Joslyn with a kata, about to place their hand on Keith's. There was the crack of a high-powered rifle and his right arm below the elbow was gone, the upper arm a mass of shredded muscle. He stared uncomprehendingly at where his arm used to be, the pain not reaching him yet. Then he was slammed into the ground by Ripplescale, who shouted, "Slugthrower! Hit the deck, Battery!"
Ripplescale desperately tore at Keith's left sleeve, frantically gathering fabric to fashion a makeshift tourniquet, tightly wrapping his right arm at the shoulder. With a warning, they whispered, "Prepare for pain," before igniting their protosaber. The searing violet blade met the oozing wound where Keith's right arm once was, causing him to unleash a gut-wrenching scream. In that moment, Keith's body morphed into a radiant, humanoid form, emanating an ethereal glow; his Breaker state. As he absorbed the potent energy coursing through the protosaber, a surge of power consumed him, filling him with radiant health and he drunk deeply and greedily. But unexpectedly, the life-giving flow ceased as the protosaber abruptly flickered out, and Ripplescale clambered off of him and rolled to the side, shouting "Sniper, 3 o'clock!"
A second bullet tore through Keith, unleashing a scorching spray of molten metal as it exited his glowing energetic body. Time stretches into precious seconds, as Keith's sluggish thoughts struggle to keep pace in the quick and disorienting Breaker state. Confusion clouds his mind before he finally relinquishes the altered state. As his consciousness returns, he gazes in disbelief at his smooth and unharmed right arm, which abruptly ends just beyond his elbow. His eyes remain fixed, unable to comprehend the surreal sight before him.
The afternoon came alive with the screeching of tires and the powerful rumble of engines as the trucks and vans in the parking lot embarked on an off-road adventure up Captain's Hill to the meadow on top. Joslyn swore violently at the sight, as Ripplescale scanned the horizon, hand on blade.
His arm is gone, he thought incredulous. He had triumphed over the formidable Behemoth, outsmarted the cunning Leviathan, and faced the unnerving Simurgh unharmed til the day she died. However, after spending just one week in Brockton Bay, he found himself with a missing arm. He wanted to laugh. Perhaps this place truly was cursed?
A good dozen vans and trucks descended upon the Hill, unleashing a torrent of Empire 88 soldiers wielding stolen military weapons, white supremacist militia squads armed with modified AR-15s, and rowdy troublemakers brandishing shotguns and hunting rifles. From one van as well, stepped a man in a wolf mask.
"I see Victor missed and got the wrong faggot," he shouted, as he transformed, becoming a hulking wolf-like monstrosity of whining metal hooks. "But one crippled fag is as good as another. Let's spill some fucking blood!"
At that, gunfire erupted from the Empire goons, bullets whizzing overhead and to the sides and all around, as the Force screamed warnings at Keith to dodge and duck, and he did so after a moment's hesitation and a bullet to the side, the pain a distant notice. Hookwolf charged their group, but Joslyn, ever brave, stood firm before him. With impeccable timing, she unleashed her power and swung a fist, sending the hulking cape crashing into a tree with a resounding crack, the branches shuddering and shattering. The Force screamed at Keith and he twisted just enough that the high-powered bullet merely grazed his cheek, ripping a long strip of flesh. The heat of the pain focused Keith, and he began to act.
Meanwhile, Knight Ripplescale moved swiftly amongst the most militant of squads, leaping and dancing to the beat of their own drum, their violet blade violent and themself seemingly inviolate. With each graceful movement, they left a trail of cut-through gun barrels and the occasional hand at the wrist. The other squads quickly turned and fired upon them, pulling gunfire away from Keith and Joslyn, but Ripplescale's agility allowed them to dodge most of the incoming bullets, and what they didn't dodge they would simply Brute through, letting the bullets sting and smear against their solar-hardened scales.
Keith, on the other hand, turned to focus his attention on neutralizing the rest of Empire's firepower as there must have been half a hundred guns surrounding them. He aimed and unleashed icy-white lasers that froze and cracked the enemy's weapons, rendering them useless. And if some hands were caught in the process, Keith didn't mind. As the freezing beams disrupted the goons' firepower, Keith's allies gained an advantage in the chaotic battlefield. He sent occasional blasts at Hookwoolf, as Joslyn and the deadly cape played Cat and Mouse through the meadow, the woman dodging and landing what blows she could before darting away, while Ripplescale tore apart the most militant squads like they were paper.
Together, Keith, Joslyn, and Ripplescale fought with precision and power, pushing back the Empire goons, holding off Hookwolf, and turning the tide of the battle in their favor. Then Cricket and Stormtiger made their appearance.
Utilizing a less-than-subtle touch of the Force and her power, Joslyn swiftly raced away, disappearing in a blur of motion. A crack filled the air, a bullet pierced through the spot where she'd been standing, digging itself into the ground. Victor apparently didn't care who he killed, as long as he got one of them today. She could feel his malice, his desire for blood, radiating like a beacon as he focused on her this time.
Bullets filled the air—Joslyn had at least one bullet inside her calf, the burn of it exacerbating with every step yet with the Force it didn't seem to matter—as Keith fired ice lasers at various weapons around him, flash-freezing them and some hands as well as he dipped and dodged sprays of fire. In a flurry of movement, Joslyn made her way back to where Knight Ripplescale was engaged in combat, seeking to join in before Hookwolf caught her. They were facing off against Cricket, a woman who donned a cage mask and brandished a pair of kamas. Meanwhile, a shirtless man wearing a tiger mask named Stormtiger, with chains coiled around his arms, conjured razor-sharp claws of air to attack Ripplescale at distance, not even glancing at Joslyn as she raced towards him. Yet Ripplescale effortlessly dodged each strike and each claw of compressed air, their protosaber gleaming violet in anticipation of the impending counterattack against Cricket.
Hookwolf, his massive wolf-like form made of grinding metal, lunged at Joslyn from behind, his sharp claws digging into her flesh as the Force belatedly screamed a warning. Or perhaps she just hadn't been listening right. Her body crashed onto the unforgiving ground, leaving Joslyn's senses jolted and her ears ringing. As she pushed up and struggled to find her footing, blood trickled from her split lip and numerous cuts and the wound in her calf, serving as a painful reminder of her desperate fight, and her gratitude for her Brute power grew, for otherwise she would likely be dead. She clawed for a semblance of calm as she turned to face the wolf across the field of battle. Passion, yet serenity, she told herself. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, her thoughts whispered, yet the Force.
As Ripplescale's violet blade clashed with Cricket's kamas, sparks flew in a deadly dance. The hot metal flew with each blow, causing the air to reverberate from the force of their clash. Each strike cleaved the weapons until Cricket screamed, her very shriek causing the air to vibrate. Knight Ripplescale stumbled, causing their control to falter, and their protosaber hewed through Cricket's forearm, leaving her hand half attached. Another scream escaped Cricket's lips, this time filled with agony.
Meanwhile, Stormtiger's roars of frustration reverberated through the tempestuous air, his fury matching the howling wind that encircled him. His chains cracked and lashed through the tumultuous atmosphere, resembling wild serpents in their ferocity. Amidst the chaos, Ripplescale moved with ethereal grace, seamlessly navigating between the gusts. Their dance became a symbol of defiance, a testament to their unwavering spirit in the face of the raging storm. With every step, they closed the distance between them and Stormtiger, Cricket left behind and forgotten.
Keith's icy lasers relentlessly pierced through the air, emitting a faint glimmer as they connected with the Empire footsoldiers' weapons. The sound of freezing metal reverberated across the battlefield, creating an eerie symphony of chills. The pungent scent of frost permeated the air, tingling the nostrils of those caught in the freezing embrace of his lasers, their hands often frozen to the weapon itself. Some tried tearing their hands off the frozen weapons and took a palm of skin off as well. Those men bled profusely and begged for medical attention, but were ignored by all fighters.
Hookwolf was relentless, his metal wolf tearing through the chaos, cutting through his own men to reach her. His grinding jaws closed in on Joslyn, hungering for her flesh after getting a taste. With a surge of determination, Joslyn tapped into the Force, her body a conduit of raw energy and her mind at peace, an oasis of calm amidst the swirling chaos. Passion, yet serenity, her mind echoed, chaos, yet harmony. She leaped to her feet, evading the wolf's jaws by mere inches. Ethan was going to be so upset he didn't join her, came the errant thought, he would love a mess like this.
In a swift motion, she drew her protosaber, pressing the red and the green buttons for emergency lethality, its azure blade singing to life. With a shout of defiance, she engaged her power and charged at Hookwolf, her azure blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Their clash was thunderous, sparks exploding with each strike as she cleaved powerfully through his metal. The collision of metal and plasma energy produced a sharp, whining sound that resonated amidst the chaos, accompanied by the sight of molten metal peeling away from the Nazi cape. With each strike her determination grew stronger. Not only should she end this man's reign of terror, she in fact could, with the power of the protosaber and trust in the Force. In the midst of it all, she took glancing blows and ragged cuts to miss getting shot by the distant sniper rifle, an obvious sign of the Empire 88's Victor still being in the picture.
What was the point of this, she couldn't help thinking, the point of trying to kill Legend or Knight Ripplescale or even herself? They have to know the Protectorate and the heroes would come down on them like a bag of bricks. That the Empire wouldn't survive this. It made no sense; she thought they were supposed to be smarter than this.
Max Anders, also known as Kaiser, felt a surge of adrenaline as he absorbed the news. The sudden turn of events had shattered his previously pleasant day, leaving him seething with frustration. Brad, always eager to display his toughness, had instigated this reckless attack on the Endslayer, managing to sway Victor and even convincing Krieg to create a diversion for the Protectorate. The fact that none of his trusted lieutenants had bothered to inform him until it was too late infuriated Max, and he vowed to extract payment for their disobedience.
Without wasting a moment, Max hastily adorned his metal suit and secured the crown upon his head. He was prepared to unleash his full strength and demonstrate the might of the Empire. As he awaited his ride, thoughts of the potential success that awaited him amidst this chaotic situation consumed his mind. Regardless of the circumstances, victory was practically guaranteed. Even the formidable Endslayer himself would be no match for the Empire's power.
As Max entered Medhall that day, little did he know that it would be Kaiser who would emerge, his metallic footsteps resounding on the chunk of street beneath him as it made its way towards the chaos of fighting on Captain's Hill.
As Cricket writhed in pain, blood weeping from her mangled, half cauterized arm, Ripplescale's eyes blazed with determination. Their purple saber spun in the style of Shii-Cho, a whirlwind of deadly precision, cutting Stormtiger's chains with lightning speed. Each strike resonated with the force of a thunderclap, tearing through the chains with ease.
This Empire, these supremacists. They made Ripplescale sick, fighting against their own species simply based on something so basic as skin pigmentation. They had always intended to seek them out and end them, and now this Empire simply waltzed up to Ripplescale themself. Well, they would take the opportunity given. No quarter given, no holding back. Their mind was filled with the crimes this Empire had committed, would intend to commit if they ever gained power, and as a Jedi it was their duty to ensure such sentients paid for their crimes. They would be satisfied with putting them all behind bars and making sure they stayed there.
The storm raged on around Stormtiger, drowning out Cricket's screams. Ripplescale leapt, defying gravity, their blade slicing through the air like a comet, only barely catching Stormtiger's shoulder as the man used the wind raging around him to dodge. They landed behind him, a flicker of triumph in their eyes.
"Surrender, Stormtiger. This is over and I cannot guarantee your health if we continue."
But Stormtiger was relentless, his fury unyielding. He roared, unleashing a tempest of raw power, blades of wind tearing through the air that Ripplescale danced around. The wind intensified, whipping their feathers and cloak into a frenzy, screaming like a banshee.
"Never!" shouted Stormtiger and a ragged claw of air barreled towards Knight Ripplescale, too close to dodge. "Long live the Empire!"
Yet, in that moment of vulnerability, Ripplescale found strength. They channeled the very essence of the storm, becoming one with its wrath. Wielding their saber in the style of Vaapad with a primal shriek, they sidestepped and lunged forward, their saber a blazing beacon of defiance as blades of air tore open their scales, cutting huge furrows in their chest and rending the front of their harness. It did not matter as the protosaber licked out to remove Stormtiger's right hand. The purple beam of plasma, hotter than the surface of the sun, cauterized the wounds, making sure he would bleed out. Stormtiger screamed and collapsed to the ground, the storm around him dissipating as he stared in horror at his missing hand.
Cricket's body trembled as she stumbled back, desperately trying to put distance between herself and the Jedi. The fear in her eyes was unmistakable, even behind her cage mask, and she stunk with it as Ripplescale closed in, their feathers splayed out and surrounding their elongated saurian head like a red wreath, shaking and vibrating in an ancient threat display.
"Surrender," Ripplescale said simply, unwilling to give these supremacist scum anything but the most basic of allowances.
Cricket screamed, the air around her seeming to vibrate, disorienting Ripplescale for a moment as she turned to run. She did not make it far, before Ripplescale reached out in the Force and captured Cricket in a telekinetic grip. The Jedi's grip tightened, causing Cricket to gasp for air. "You cannot escape justice," Ripplescale declared, their voice laced with determination.
Cricket struggled, her eyes filled with desperation. Ripplescale's grip remained unyielding, unwavering in their resolve. They had an idea of the pain and suffering caused by the Empire 88, and they would not allow it to continue.
With a surge of power, Ripplescale lifted Cricket off the ground, their grip tightening even further. "Your reign of oppression ends now," they stated, their voice echoing with authority.
Cricket's struggles grew weaker as Ripplescale's hold on her intensified. The Jedi's eyes glowed with a fierce determination, their unwavering commitment to justice shining through.
As Cricket's resistance faded, Ripplescale slowly lowered her to the ground, releasing their grip. Cricket fell to her knees, gasping for air, holding her ruined hand. Ripplescale stood before her, their saber held firmly in their hand.
"You have a choice," Ripplescale stated firmly. "Face the consequences for your actions or continue down a path of destruction. The choice is yours."
Cricket looked up at Ripplescale, her eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. After a moment of hesitation, she slowly nodded, surrendering to the Jedi's authority.
Ripplescale's expression softened slightly, their gaze filled with a mix of compassion and determination. "You have made the right decision," they said, extending a hand to help Cricket up.
Cricket accepted the Jedi's hand, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and relief.
As the battle raged on, the air crackled with tension. Hookwolf, a formidable opponent with his metallic tendrils and razor-sharp claws, fought ferociously, his attacks fueled by a primal rage of being denied. But the swift and skilled Joslyn, with her glowing blue protosaber and the Force on her side, danced with agility and grace, parrying each blow with calculated precision, her protosaber burning through the metal. In strategic moments, she stood still, before engaging her power, cleaving powerful blows with relentless speed, peeling Hookwolf like a can opener, yet there was always more metal.
Their clash was a symphony of chaos, the clash of metal against energy echoing through the battlefield. Sparks erupted with every strike, illuminating the surroundings in bright actinic flashes. Joslyn's determination radiated as she relentlessly pressed forward, her blade seeming to leave trails of glowing energy in its wake. Blood trickled from a dozen cuts and gouges she's had to take to prevent a lethal blow, and her body screamed with bruises and maybe even a broken bone—every step with her right foot was sharp with pain—but still she kept going. Passion, yet serenity repeated like a mantra in her mind.
Hookwolf, sensing the threat she posed, unleashed a flurry of attacks, his metal distending and whipping like a tentacle of metal. But Joslyn, undeterred, dodged out of the way. The Force surged within Joslyn, guiding her every move. She spun and twirled, her protosaber a blur of light, deflecting Hookwolf's relentless onslaught, metal shearing and melting, littering the meadow and starting small fires.
The battlefield was a symphony of violence, the clash of weapons and the screams of the wounded echoing in Joslyn's ears. But she remained focused, her eyes locked on her enemy. She felt it coming, the moment this fight would end. And she trusted, with an absolute certainty that would have seemed impossibly naïve before Ripplescale, that with the Force she would see it through, whole, if not hale.
With a final surge of power, taking a cut right below her eyes from a spearing tendril of metal, Joslyn's blade sliced through the air with an intense hum before her, flying like a spear. It struck true, penetrating Hookwolf's metallic body with a satisfying squeal. A deafening crash followed, Joslyn slamming into Hookwolf, as the impact sent a shockwave rippling through the air and forced the protosaber deeper, accompanied by the metallic screech of tearing molten metal. The acrid scent of burning ozone filled the battlefield, mingling with the metallic tang of blood, as Joslyn struck true, piercing the fleshy core buried deep inside Hookwolf's metal body.
As the wolf crumbled, its once imposing form collapsed into a twisted heap of shattered metal, leaving behind a half-naked man with a massive cauterized wound down his chest. Joslyn stood amidst the wreckage, victorious but weary. Every labored breath sent waves of exhaustion through her body, her foot ached fiercely, and her skin glistened with a mix of sweat and blood, her clothes ragged and shredded. Yet, there was no time for rest.
The battle lulled, but it wasn't over yet. Joslyn could sense that something was coming. She tightened her grip on her protosaber, ready to face whatever came her way. For in the chaos of Captain's Hill, she knew that the fate of not just Brockton Bay hung in the balance, and she would not falter. If Ripplescale died… If Legend died… The cost would be enormous, perhaps too much to bear.
Turning from the last of the Empire gangsters on the Hill—men crying bitter tears of pain as they tore their frozen skin from their weapons, warm blood hissing when it met freezing metal—Keith noticed the rapidly approaching 'vehicle' first; a chunk of city street ripped out by force of gravity covered in capes. A small young woman knelt touching and guiding the crumbling chunk, while white ghosts poured off an armored man bearing a spear, surrounding the hilltop battle. Rune and Crusader. Two women, both around ten feet tall, stood ready to engage, armed and armored. Fenja and Menja. And finally, wearing a full set of armor with a crown of spikes, stood Kaiser. He cursed whatever incompetence in Piggot's department that had them all out here alone with no backup, and prayed that the Protectorate team would be here soon.
The Force gave a sharp warning to duck, and Keith did one better, turning into his Breaker state, feeling the bullet pass through and out him as a spray of molten metal. If he had a minute, he could easily take out Victor. Would gladly do so. He didn't have a minute, let alone thirty seconds, as the chunk of street raced closer for the hill.
Once it was close enough that the destruction of their 'vehicle' wouldn't kill who rode down with it, Keith unleashed a series of blindingly bright lights, piercing lasers that tore through the power-controlled substance like it was paper. Crusader caught a ride with his ghosts, Rune piloted her chunk down alongside one twin, while the other twin grew as she fell, and Kasier hit the ground with a reverberating clang-splat that must have sent his head spinning.
Knight Ripplescale was amongst the debris in seconds, their purple blade out and swinging. Rising up like a zombie, Kaiser extended his hand and metal spikes appeared, defending the growing Fenja from the Jedi Knight as she got her bearings. Twisted metal groans as the protosaber did its duty, tearing apart Kaiser's defenses like paper.
Joslyn's blue blade cut through the ethereal forms of the Crusader's ghosts, bursting them like delicate balloons. As she moved closer, the scent of ancient dust mingled with the metallic tang of her weapon. The echoes of her swift strikes reverberated through the air, a symphony of clashes and pops. Menja stood by, a stalwart guardian eyeing the Force Sensitive warily, while the panicked Rune trembled in fear. The tension in the air was palpable, as if the very fabric of the Force crackled with anticipation. Keith, driven by the urgency of the situation, hastened to join Ripplescale, their destinies intertwined in the battle ahead.
Keith raced past Fenja, the sound of the heat ray crackling through the air from his hand. The intense heat turned a section of Kaiser's metallic armor into a glowing cherry red. With a swift movement, Kaiser turned to confront Keith, momentarily obscuring Knight Ripplescale from view. Suddenly, the air filled with the whooshing sound of the purple blade swinging towards Fenja.
As Fenja lost her balance and fell, her left ankle detached from her foot, completely sliced through. The sound of bones cracking echoed through the air, accompanied by a sickening squelch of flesh being torn. Knight Ripplescale swiftly maneuvered past her outstretched hand grasping wildly and delivered a powerful strike, the impact reverberating through the air. It was followed by a gruesome sight as three fingers and a chunk of palm were ripped away from the giantess. The woman let out a horrible screech, a piercing sound that sent shivers down the spine, and curled up on herself, desperately clutching the severed limb.
Keith, dodging massive spikes growing around him, could feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins as he concentrated on burning Kaiser out of his armor. Meanwhile, Ripplescale closed in on Kaiser as the man gestured grandly, his words falling on deaf ears as Keith had no desire to listen and had been ignoring him. The purple protosaber lashed out, its blade slicing through the air with a low hum, and a pointing limb fell to the ground. Molten metal dripped from both ends, the sizzling sound filling the air, and the stump glowed cherry-red, radiating intense heat. Kaiser couldn't contain the pain any longer and let out a ragged scream, a sound resembling the tearing of paper. He collapsed onto his knees on the ground, staring at his arm in shock.
Crusader lay motionless on the ground as Keith circled back, the sight of Menja covered in cauterized wounds as she valiantly protected Rune from Joslyn sent a shiver down Keith's spine. Keith joined the fray only for Menja to be swiftly defeated, leaving Rune begging for mercy, which was granted.
As the PRT and Protectorate finally arrived, black helicopters descended upon Captain's Hill, disgorging troopers who fanned out across the battlefield. Dauntless and Aegis descended from the sky, while Armsmaster and Miss Militia disembarked from a helicopter. The once serene hill now exuded a chilling atmosphere, the air tainted with a haunting mix of icy coldness, the metallic tang of blood, and the acrid odor of cauterized flesh. Faint sounds of men quietly weeping or moaning carried on the wind that rustled through the surrounding trees. A bizarre thought crossed Keith's mind amidst the grim scene - Captain's Hill would no longer serve as a training ground - and he let out a sharp, mirthless bark of laughter.
Mar 3rd
The PR job that Erica Beaumont landed was truly the opportunity of a lifetime; to interview one of the Endslayers themselves, the enigmatic Case 53 Ripplescale. The cape, despite being quite available to Brockton Bay, had yet to officially appear in interviews or news programs about the Angelfall. She couldn't believe her luck, that the world-famous cape would chose to settle in the Bay and in turn the PRT would chose her. It had turned her unofficial exile into something that could be the stepping stone back into the upper echelons of PR, back to New York City. All she had to do was nail the interview of a lifetime.
Erica and the team did the interview in Cavalier Park, recording wonderful B-Roll of the startlingly large prehistoric Case 53 dancing about doing their martial arts. Their violet laser sword darting this way and that lent credence to the 'Jedi' rumors that had been spreading on PHO. They also got footage of them meditating and generally 'vibing' as they used their power to delicately lift stones around themself, sending them orbiting in circles of resonance. When the team got enough, and Ripplescale finished their 'Form VII'—a strikingly violent and swift series of movements that seemed to almost radiate controlled malice—she joined the cape on a blanket, the two of them looking like they were having a casual conversation in the park.
"Thank you so much for letting us join you this morning, Knight Ripplescale," she said, as the cameras started rolling. "I have some questions that I think a lot of people have been waiting to hear answered."
The dinosaur smiled at her before opening their mouth, revealing sharp serrated teeth. "Thank you for letting me have the opportunity to tell my story and speak with the world, as it were. I'd be glad to answer any questions you have."
"First of all, the oft repeated claim that you fell out of the sky before the attack on Canberra. Is that true? Was the Day the Angel Fell truly your first you can remember?" Erica asked, curious herself. To think, finding yourself lost and alone, falling through the sky, only to have to join in battle against a monster like the Simurgh. To actually win? It baffled the mind how lucky the world was Knight Ripplescale appeared that day.
Their answer was the first sign there was something far stranger, and far more interesting, going on with Ripplescale than the average Case 53.
"To answer this truthfully, I must admit something about myself that is true about no other Case 53. I remember my past. I remember it vividly, painfully at times. I know my name and my people and the history of my Republic. I am not from Earth Bet. In the language of English, my home planet's name is Coruscating Light. It is a world much like Earth, where life thrives in diverse habitats - from sprawling deserts and lush forests, to vast plains and towering mountains, and from deep oceans to expansive icefields. But yes, my first moment on Earth Bet was falling through the sky above Canberra."
All of the other questions fled from her mind. She glanced at Legend—who had joined the Case 53 halfway through their exercises, pulling out his own laser sword—and Legend nodded.
"He's telling the truth. Thinker analysis confirms it," Legend said.
An entire other world, another Earth like Aleph, and somehow this cape had made the journey to Bet. Do all Case 53s come from other Earths? It would explain why they don't match up with missing person reports. Questions swirled in Erica's mind, her curiosity burning brightly. But what to ask first?
"What were you doing before you… arrived on Earth Bet? What was the journey like?"
Their tail began to swish back and forth, as they answered. "I was assaulting the capital Biraxis of a region known as the Almethean Reach. You must understand, the Republic has been fighting a civil war on Coruscating Light for three long years, and members of the Order, capes, like myself are, were, the generals of the Republic. We lead the soldiers from the front, wielding our lightsabers and our powers."
She ignored that they called it a lightsaber. That meant nothing to her. "So you're a soldier, then?"
"No, I am a Monk of the Light, and a member of the Order. We follow the Path, and bend to the Light, eschewing the Darkness and those that fall to its black embrace. But because of our powers, we were the ones chosen to lead the clone armies of the Republic against the machine army of the Confederation and their Dark masters, the Dwellers in the Dark, who follow the Path and fall to Darkness."
There was so much she wanted to ask, wanted to clarify, but she had to focus. "What is this Path?"
"The Path is an energy field that permeates all life forms, connects even the smallest bacterium to the most complex organisms, and all thinking beings to each other. As powers are utilized, they tap into the energy field, but if used with anger, passion, or selfishness, a gradual, or not so gradual, fall into Darkness occurs. When powers are utilized to help others selflessly, treating them with kindness, compassion, and generosity, you bend towards the Light. As a Monk of the Light, I seek to better others and the world around me with the use of my powers. Even now, stuck as I am on another planet, in a different dimension, I trust the Path to guide me."
As the interview progressed, they covered a wide range of topics, some relevant some not, as she occasionally remembered to ask the questions she actually intended to use, before she had gotten so thoroughly derailed by the utterly strange tale being told.
For how long has their Earth possessed powers?
"Coruscating Light has had powers for far far longer than your Earth Aleph and Bet, and the first ancestor to the Order is over six thousand years old," they explained to a frankly fascinated Erica. "It was known even back then, that were there was radiant Light, so too there would be cloying Darkness. The Monks of the Light have sought to defend the peoples of Coruscating Light from the depredations of the Dwellers in the Dark for countless generations across a thousand thousand battlefields, and our civil war is only the latest front in an endless war for total victory or defeat by the Dwellers in the Dark."
Erica couldn't help but feel a sense of dread at the idea of enduring six thousand years of Parahumanity. Six thousand years of capes wrecking the world. Yet, until their civil war, started by villains, this Earth had a planetary government. Could Earth Bet have ever achieved that? She didn't think so.
Has their appearance always resembled that of a dinosaur, or were they initially born as human and later transformed?
"I am from a region known as Sauryxia. I am not a conventional Case 53, as I was born this way, from a clutch of eggs as is traditional, as my mother was born and her mother. Multiple thinking species live on, above, and below the surface of Coruscating Light, and the Sauraptorians, my people, are one of them. But I was born with a power, and so I was given up to the temple of the Order and raised to be a Monk, as was proper."
That answer had her clarifying exactly what they meant, and Ripplescale did so, truly claiming that their Earth was home to multiple intelligent species, specifically naming seven, including humans and Sauraptorians, and described them in detail. She was stunned at the thought of humanity being only one of seven thinking species on Earth. What kind of madhouse had this cape come from?
A reference was made to a clone army, could they elaborate on its intended significance?
"We fought the war alongside clones rather than volunteers or a draft army. All of the clones are of the same man; a famous mercenary and notorious Monk-killer named Jango. The Republic was compelled to pay a significant price to the Tinkers who had engineered the hidden clone army, in order to keep up the constant stream of clones needed to fight the never-ending war against the Confederation's machine army. Despite the signs that should have alerted us to their betrayal, I was unaware until it was too late, and I suspect my fellow Monks were equally blindsided. Captain Jax was putting a laser bolt in my chest when I found myself in the skies over Earth Bet. Since then I've tried not to think too much about what is most assuredly happening on Coruscating Light without the protection of the Monks, as the Dwellers in the Dark assume control of the planet." Their tail thrashed and their voice sounded distant.
Erica's blood ran cold as a wave of horror washed over her. A group of villains had gained control over the entire Earth, leaving it in their merciless hands. The nightmare of Earth Bet, but it's already happening to Ripplescale's home.
"The Dwellers will fall," they declared with fierce determination, vowing to dismantle their twisted works and false order, when they return to Coruscating Light. Of course, they hadn't the first clue of how to return, only that it was possible, Ripplescale told her, for they had made the journey once, and they would make it again, with a New Order at their back.
Erica continued to ask more questions, often receiving complete answers, while other times sensing Ripplescale's guardedness almost tangibly.
"Finally, there's been much chatter and speculation, given your 'lightsaber' and your ability with telekinesis, as well as persistent rumors on PHO, that you are pretending to be a Jedi," Erica said with a laugh, not returned. "What do you have to say to such claims?"
They were silent for a long moment, the Case 53 looking almost humanly uncomfortable before Legend spoke up. "Let's cut that last question. It isn't relevant, do you have another one?"
"No, I can answer," Ripplescale replied. "I am not pretending to be anything. I am myself, and I am what my Order made me, for good and ill. With my sacred lightsaber in hand, I stand as a Monk of the Light, using my formidable powers to spread goodness and uphold justice. If that happens to bear a resemblance to some schlock called Star Wars, maybe reality is truly stranger than anything we could imagine."
And wasn't that the truth? An Earth with over half a dozen sentient species, where powers had been a fact of life for millennia and the Parahuman dynamic was ingrained with a deep spirituality, yet still managed to shake out true.
"I want to express my sincere gratitude, Knight Ripplescale. Throughout this interview, we have embarked on a mesmerizing odyssey through your extraordinary life and the profound consequences of Parahumanity on diverse Earths. Simultaneously, it has served as a terrifying cautionary tale, highlighting the dangers of unchecked villainy and providing a glimpse into the potential trajectory of our own world. Thank you so much for speaking with me today."
"It was my pleasure, Erica. Perhaps we can do it again, when I am ready to tell stories from the War."
She carefully kept her face calm, but inside she was shrieking with excitement. Oh, could this day not get any better? Hours later, she watched the news in horror, as it certainly got worse.
"It is done," Fortuna told Doctor Mother. "We should get an accurate reading on the full extent of the Alien's abilities and what it has taught Legend and Battery in the short time it spent with them."
Doctor Mother nodded, her expression a mix of anticipation and caution. "Indeed, Fortuna. Assessing the Alien's abilities and its impact on Legend and Battery is crucial for our understanding of their potential. The remarkable speed at which they have acquired proficiency in the Force and lightsaber combat is intriguing and speaks to power-enhanced training. We must gather precise data to uncover the extent of their newfound skills, as well as what methods of insidious control the Alien may have."
Fortuna's confidence radiated as she continued, "Rest assured, the process should proceed smoothly without encountering any significant challenges. The actual threat level is minimal, and these so-called Jedis are, at worst, at risk of being crippled."
Doctor Mother's brow furrowed slightly, concern flickering across her face. "Even Legend? We can't have one of the Triumvirate taken down with a gun. Think of the consequences."
"I made sure they intend to target the Alien, not Legend. While they dislike Legend of course, their hatred for the Alien burns bright, viewing them as everything currently wrong in the world; a Case 53, non-conforming and incredibly powerful yet doesn't use that power, and most of all, they ruined the fun of Simurgh battles." Fortuna couldn't help the disdain that crept into her voice.
Doctor Mother's concern deepened as she processed Fortuna's words. The potential danger to Legend was not something she could dismiss lightly. The Triumvirate held immense power and influence, and losing one of their members would have far-reaching consequences.
"Fortuna, we cannot underestimate the risk. Legend is a symbol of hope for many, and his absence would be felt deeply. We must take all necessary precautions to ensure his safety," Doctor Mother insisted, her voice laced with determination.
Fortuna's eyes narrowed, her confidence momentarily wavering. She understood the gravity of the situation but remained steadfast in her assessment. "I assure you, Doctor Mother, the plan is carefully devised. Legend will not be targeted and should be out of permanent harm's way. Our priority is to gather information on the Alien and its effects on both him and Battery."
Doctor Mother sighed, realizing the delicate balance they were attempting to maintain, even after Keith had left. The Triumvirate had faced numerous threats in the past, but this new development posed unique challenges. The unknown capabilities of the Alien and its potential influence on their allies demanded a thorough investigation.
"Very well, Fortuna," Doctor Mother conceded, her voice tinged with caution. "Proceed with the assessment, but be vigilant. We cannot afford any missteps or compromises in our efforts to understand this situation fully. Hastiness is how we got in this situation."
Fortuna nodded, her determination renewed. "I will ensure the safety of our assets while gathering the necessary data. We will uncover the truth behind the Alien's abilities and assess their impact on our allies. The Triumvirate's strength must not be compromised further."
As the two women exchanged a final glance, their shared resolve echoed in that simple white room. They knew their actions would shape the future, not only for the Triumvirate and Cauldron but for Earth Bet itself. The potential repercussions of underestimating the Alien's influence were too great to ignore, and they were prepared to face any challenges that lay ahead. In the shadows of their conversation, unseen forces were set into motion, destinies entwined, and a dangerous game of manipulation and power played out. The consequences of their actions would reverberate far beyond what either of them could imagine.
The first sign something was wrong was the number of trucks and unmarked vans in the parking lot, but Keith spent little mind on the matter. As the interview progressed, Ripplescales skillfully crafted a believable story, while Keith silently plotted the eventual unveiling of Ripplescales' true identity to the heads of the Protectorate and Parahuman Response Team. It would be tough for the heads to understand, but it was the first step in making sure that Knight Ripplescale could live their life truthfully. They deserved that much.
The second, far more glaring sign, happened while Ripplescale was assisting himself and Joslyn with a kata, about to place their hand on Keith's. There was the crack of a high-powered rifle and his right arm below the elbow was gone, the upper arm a mass of shredded muscle. He stared uncomprehendingly at where his arm used to be, the pain not reaching him yet. Then he was slammed into the ground by Ripplescale, who shouted, "Slugthrower! Hit the deck, Battery!"
Ripplescale desperately tore at Keith's left sleeve, frantically gathering fabric to fashion a makeshift tourniquet, tightly wrapping his right arm at the shoulder. With a warning, they whispered, "Prepare for pain," before igniting their protosaber. The searing violet blade met the oozing wound where Keith's right arm once was, causing him to unleash a gut-wrenching scream. In that moment, Keith's body morphed into a radiant, humanoid form, emanating an ethereal glow; his Breaker state. As he absorbed the potent energy coursing through the protosaber, a surge of power consumed him, filling him with radiant health and he drunk deeply and greedily. But unexpectedly, the life-giving flow ceased as the protosaber abruptly flickered out, and Ripplescale clambered off of him and rolled to the side, shouting "Sniper, 3 o'clock!"
A second bullet tore through Keith, unleashing a scorching spray of molten metal as it exited his glowing energetic body. Time stretches into precious seconds, as Keith's sluggish thoughts struggle to keep pace in the quick and disorienting Breaker state. Confusion clouds his mind before he finally relinquishes the altered state. As his consciousness returns, he gazes in disbelief at his smooth and unharmed right arm, which abruptly ends just beyond his elbow. His eyes remain fixed, unable to comprehend the surreal sight before him.
The afternoon came alive with the screeching of tires and the powerful rumble of engines as the trucks and vans in the parking lot embarked on an off-road adventure up Captain's Hill to the meadow on top. Joslyn swore violently at the sight, as Ripplescale scanned the horizon, hand on blade.
His arm is gone, he thought incredulous. He had triumphed over the formidable Behemoth, outsmarted the cunning Leviathan, and faced the unnerving Simurgh unharmed til the day she died. However, after spending just one week in Brockton Bay, he found himself with a missing arm. He wanted to laugh. Perhaps this place truly was cursed?
A good dozen vans and trucks descended upon the Hill, unleashing a torrent of Empire 88 soldiers wielding stolen military weapons, white supremacist militia squads armed with modified AR-15s, and rowdy troublemakers brandishing shotguns and hunting rifles. From one van as well, stepped a man in a wolf mask.
"I see Victor missed and got the wrong faggot," he shouted, as he transformed, becoming a hulking wolf-like monstrosity of whining metal hooks. "But one crippled fag is as good as another. Let's spill some fucking blood!"
At that, gunfire erupted from the Empire goons, bullets whizzing overhead and to the sides and all around, as the Force screamed warnings at Keith to dodge and duck, and he did so after a moment's hesitation and a bullet to the side, the pain a distant notice. Hookwolf charged their group, but Joslyn, ever brave, stood firm before him. With impeccable timing, she unleashed her power and swung a fist, sending the hulking cape crashing into a tree with a resounding crack, the branches shuddering and shattering. The Force screamed at Keith and he twisted just enough that the high-powered bullet merely grazed his cheek, ripping a long strip of flesh. The heat of the pain focused Keith, and he began to act.
Meanwhile, Knight Ripplescale moved swiftly amongst the most militant of squads, leaping and dancing to the beat of their own drum, their violet blade violent and themself seemingly inviolate. With each graceful movement, they left a trail of cut-through gun barrels and the occasional hand at the wrist. The other squads quickly turned and fired upon them, pulling gunfire away from Keith and Joslyn, but Ripplescale's agility allowed them to dodge most of the incoming bullets, and what they didn't dodge they would simply Brute through, letting the bullets sting and smear against their solar-hardened scales.
Keith, on the other hand, turned to focus his attention on neutralizing the rest of Empire's firepower as there must have been half a hundred guns surrounding them. He aimed and unleashed icy-white lasers that froze and cracked the enemy's weapons, rendering them useless. And if some hands were caught in the process, Keith didn't mind. As the freezing beams disrupted the goons' firepower, Keith's allies gained an advantage in the chaotic battlefield. He sent occasional blasts at Hookwoolf, as Joslyn and the deadly cape played Cat and Mouse through the meadow, the woman dodging and landing what blows she could before darting away, while Ripplescale tore apart the most militant squads like they were paper.
Together, Keith, Joslyn, and Ripplescale fought with precision and power, pushing back the Empire goons, holding off Hookwolf, and turning the tide of the battle in their favor. Then Cricket and Stormtiger made their appearance.
Utilizing a less-than-subtle touch of the Force and her power, Joslyn swiftly raced away, disappearing in a blur of motion. A crack filled the air, a bullet pierced through the spot where she'd been standing, digging itself into the ground. Victor apparently didn't care who he killed, as long as he got one of them today. She could feel his malice, his desire for blood, radiating like a beacon as he focused on her this time.
Bullets filled the air—Joslyn had at least one bullet inside her calf, the burn of it exacerbating with every step yet with the Force it didn't seem to matter—as Keith fired ice lasers at various weapons around him, flash-freezing them and some hands as well as he dipped and dodged sprays of fire. In a flurry of movement, Joslyn made her way back to where Knight Ripplescale was engaged in combat, seeking to join in before Hookwolf caught her. They were facing off against Cricket, a woman who donned a cage mask and brandished a pair of kamas. Meanwhile, a shirtless man wearing a tiger mask named Stormtiger, with chains coiled around his arms, conjured razor-sharp claws of air to attack Ripplescale at distance, not even glancing at Joslyn as she raced towards him. Yet Ripplescale effortlessly dodged each strike and each claw of compressed air, their protosaber gleaming violet in anticipation of the impending counterattack against Cricket.
Hookwolf, his massive wolf-like form made of grinding metal, lunged at Joslyn from behind, his sharp claws digging into her flesh as the Force belatedly screamed a warning. Or perhaps she just hadn't been listening right. Her body crashed onto the unforgiving ground, leaving Joslyn's senses jolted and her ears ringing. As she pushed up and struggled to find her footing, blood trickled from her split lip and numerous cuts and the wound in her calf, serving as a painful reminder of her desperate fight, and her gratitude for her Brute power grew, for otherwise she would likely be dead. She clawed for a semblance of calm as she turned to face the wolf across the field of battle. Passion, yet serenity, she told herself. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, her thoughts whispered, yet the Force.
As Ripplescale's violet blade clashed with Cricket's kamas, sparks flew in a deadly dance. The hot metal flew with each blow, causing the air to reverberate from the force of their clash. Each strike cleaved the weapons until Cricket screamed, her very shriek causing the air to vibrate. Knight Ripplescale stumbled, causing their control to falter, and their protosaber hewed through Cricket's forearm, leaving her hand half attached. Another scream escaped Cricket's lips, this time filled with agony.
Meanwhile, Stormtiger's roars of frustration reverberated through the tempestuous air, his fury matching the howling wind that encircled him. His chains cracked and lashed through the tumultuous atmosphere, resembling wild serpents in their ferocity. Amidst the chaos, Ripplescale moved with ethereal grace, seamlessly navigating between the gusts. Their dance became a symbol of defiance, a testament to their unwavering spirit in the face of the raging storm. With every step, they closed the distance between them and Stormtiger, Cricket left behind and forgotten.
Keith's icy lasers relentlessly pierced through the air, emitting a faint glimmer as they connected with the Empire footsoldiers' weapons. The sound of freezing metal reverberated across the battlefield, creating an eerie symphony of chills. The pungent scent of frost permeated the air, tingling the nostrils of those caught in the freezing embrace of his lasers, their hands often frozen to the weapon itself. Some tried tearing their hands off the frozen weapons and took a palm of skin off as well. Those men bled profusely and begged for medical attention, but were ignored by all fighters.
Hookwolf was relentless, his metal wolf tearing through the chaos, cutting through his own men to reach her. His grinding jaws closed in on Joslyn, hungering for her flesh after getting a taste. With a surge of determination, Joslyn tapped into the Force, her body a conduit of raw energy and her mind at peace, an oasis of calm amidst the swirling chaos. Passion, yet serenity, her mind echoed, chaos, yet harmony. She leaped to her feet, evading the wolf's jaws by mere inches. Ethan was going to be so upset he didn't join her, came the errant thought, he would love a mess like this.
In a swift motion, she drew her protosaber, pressing the red and the green buttons for emergency lethality, its azure blade singing to life. With a shout of defiance, she engaged her power and charged at Hookwolf, her azure blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Their clash was thunderous, sparks exploding with each strike as she cleaved powerfully through his metal. The collision of metal and plasma energy produced a sharp, whining sound that resonated amidst the chaos, accompanied by the sight of molten metal peeling away from the Nazi cape. With each strike her determination grew stronger. Not only should she end this man's reign of terror, she in fact could, with the power of the protosaber and trust in the Force. In the midst of it all, she took glancing blows and ragged cuts to miss getting shot by the distant sniper rifle, an obvious sign of the Empire 88's Victor still being in the picture.
What was the point of this, she couldn't help thinking, the point of trying to kill Legend or Knight Ripplescale or even herself? They have to know the Protectorate and the heroes would come down on them like a bag of bricks. That the Empire wouldn't survive this. It made no sense; she thought they were supposed to be smarter than this.
Max Anders, also known as Kaiser, felt a surge of adrenaline as he absorbed the news. The sudden turn of events had shattered his previously pleasant day, leaving him seething with frustration. Brad, always eager to display his toughness, had instigated this reckless attack on the Endslayer, managing to sway Victor and even convincing Krieg to create a diversion for the Protectorate. The fact that none of his trusted lieutenants had bothered to inform him until it was too late infuriated Max, and he vowed to extract payment for their disobedience.
Without wasting a moment, Max hastily adorned his metal suit and secured the crown upon his head. He was prepared to unleash his full strength and demonstrate the might of the Empire. As he awaited his ride, thoughts of the potential success that awaited him amidst this chaotic situation consumed his mind. Regardless of the circumstances, victory was practically guaranteed. Even the formidable Endslayer himself would be no match for the Empire's power.
As Max entered Medhall that day, little did he know that it would be Kaiser who would emerge, his metallic footsteps resounding on the chunk of street beneath him as it made its way towards the chaos of fighting on Captain's Hill.
As Cricket writhed in pain, blood weeping from her mangled, half cauterized arm, Ripplescale's eyes blazed with determination. Their purple saber spun in the style of Shii-Cho, a whirlwind of deadly precision, cutting Stormtiger's chains with lightning speed. Each strike resonated with the force of a thunderclap, tearing through the chains with ease.
This Empire, these supremacists. They made Ripplescale sick, fighting against their own species simply based on something so basic as skin pigmentation. They had always intended to seek them out and end them, and now this Empire simply waltzed up to Ripplescale themself. Well, they would take the opportunity given. No quarter given, no holding back. Their mind was filled with the crimes this Empire had committed, would intend to commit if they ever gained power, and as a Jedi it was their duty to ensure such sentients paid for their crimes. They would be satisfied with putting them all behind bars and making sure they stayed there.
The storm raged on around Stormtiger, drowning out Cricket's screams. Ripplescale leapt, defying gravity, their blade slicing through the air like a comet, only barely catching Stormtiger's shoulder as the man used the wind raging around him to dodge. They landed behind him, a flicker of triumph in their eyes.
"Surrender, Stormtiger. This is over and I cannot guarantee your health if we continue."
But Stormtiger was relentless, his fury unyielding. He roared, unleashing a tempest of raw power, blades of wind tearing through the air that Ripplescale danced around. The wind intensified, whipping their feathers and cloak into a frenzy, screaming like a banshee.
"Never!" shouted Stormtiger and a ragged claw of air barreled towards Knight Ripplescale, too close to dodge. "Long live the Empire!"
Yet, in that moment of vulnerability, Ripplescale found strength. They channeled the very essence of the storm, becoming one with its wrath. Wielding their saber in the style of Vaapad with a primal shriek, they sidestepped and lunged forward, their saber a blazing beacon of defiance as blades of air tore open their scales, cutting huge furrows in their chest and rending the front of their harness. It did not matter as the protosaber licked out to remove Stormtiger's right hand. The purple beam of plasma, hotter than the surface of the sun, cauterized the wounds, making sure he would bleed out. Stormtiger screamed and collapsed to the ground, the storm around him dissipating as he stared in horror at his missing hand.
Cricket's body trembled as she stumbled back, desperately trying to put distance between herself and the Jedi. The fear in her eyes was unmistakable, even behind her cage mask, and she stunk with it as Ripplescale closed in, their feathers splayed out and surrounding their elongated saurian head like a red wreath, shaking and vibrating in an ancient threat display.
"Surrender," Ripplescale said simply, unwilling to give these supremacist scum anything but the most basic of allowances.
Cricket screamed, the air around her seeming to vibrate, disorienting Ripplescale for a moment as she turned to run. She did not make it far, before Ripplescale reached out in the Force and captured Cricket in a telekinetic grip. The Jedi's grip tightened, causing Cricket to gasp for air. "You cannot escape justice," Ripplescale declared, their voice laced with determination.
Cricket struggled, her eyes filled with desperation. Ripplescale's grip remained unyielding, unwavering in their resolve. They had an idea of the pain and suffering caused by the Empire 88, and they would not allow it to continue.
With a surge of power, Ripplescale lifted Cricket off the ground, their grip tightening even further. "Your reign of oppression ends now," they stated, their voice echoing with authority.
Cricket's struggles grew weaker as Ripplescale's hold on her intensified. The Jedi's eyes glowed with a fierce determination, their unwavering commitment to justice shining through.
As Cricket's resistance faded, Ripplescale slowly lowered her to the ground, releasing their grip. Cricket fell to her knees, gasping for air, holding her ruined hand. Ripplescale stood before her, their saber held firmly in their hand.
"You have a choice," Ripplescale stated firmly. "Face the consequences for your actions or continue down a path of destruction. The choice is yours."
Cricket looked up at Ripplescale, her eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. After a moment of hesitation, she slowly nodded, surrendering to the Jedi's authority.
Ripplescale's expression softened slightly, their gaze filled with a mix of compassion and determination. "You have made the right decision," they said, extending a hand to help Cricket up.
Cricket accepted the Jedi's hand, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and relief.
As the battle raged on, the air crackled with tension. Hookwolf, a formidable opponent with his metallic tendrils and razor-sharp claws, fought ferociously, his attacks fueled by a primal rage of being denied. But the swift and skilled Joslyn, with her glowing blue protosaber and the Force on her side, danced with agility and grace, parrying each blow with calculated precision, her protosaber burning through the metal. In strategic moments, she stood still, before engaging her power, cleaving powerful blows with relentless speed, peeling Hookwolf like a can opener, yet there was always more metal.
Their clash was a symphony of chaos, the clash of metal against energy echoing through the battlefield. Sparks erupted with every strike, illuminating the surroundings in bright actinic flashes. Joslyn's determination radiated as she relentlessly pressed forward, her blade seeming to leave trails of glowing energy in its wake. Blood trickled from a dozen cuts and gouges she's had to take to prevent a lethal blow, and her body screamed with bruises and maybe even a broken bone—every step with her right foot was sharp with pain—but still she kept going. Passion, yet serenity repeated like a mantra in her mind.
Hookwolf, sensing the threat she posed, unleashed a flurry of attacks, his metal distending and whipping like a tentacle of metal. But Joslyn, undeterred, dodged out of the way. The Force surged within Joslyn, guiding her every move. She spun and twirled, her protosaber a blur of light, deflecting Hookwolf's relentless onslaught, metal shearing and melting, littering the meadow and starting small fires.
The battlefield was a symphony of violence, the clash of weapons and the screams of the wounded echoing in Joslyn's ears. But she remained focused, her eyes locked on her enemy. She felt it coming, the moment this fight would end. And she trusted, with an absolute certainty that would have seemed impossibly naïve before Ripplescale, that with the Force she would see it through, whole, if not hale.
With a final surge of power, taking a cut right below her eyes from a spearing tendril of metal, Joslyn's blade sliced through the air with an intense hum before her, flying like a spear. It struck true, penetrating Hookwolf's metallic body with a satisfying squeal. A deafening crash followed, Joslyn slamming into Hookwolf, as the impact sent a shockwave rippling through the air and forced the protosaber deeper, accompanied by the metallic screech of tearing molten metal. The acrid scent of burning ozone filled the battlefield, mingling with the metallic tang of blood, as Joslyn struck true, piercing the fleshy core buried deep inside Hookwolf's metal body.
As the wolf crumbled, its once imposing form collapsed into a twisted heap of shattered metal, leaving behind a half-naked man with a massive cauterized wound down his chest. Joslyn stood amidst the wreckage, victorious but weary. Every labored breath sent waves of exhaustion through her body, her foot ached fiercely, and her skin glistened with a mix of sweat and blood, her clothes ragged and shredded. Yet, there was no time for rest.
The battle lulled, but it wasn't over yet. Joslyn could sense that something was coming. She tightened her grip on her protosaber, ready to face whatever came her way. For in the chaos of Captain's Hill, she knew that the fate of not just Brockton Bay hung in the balance, and she would not falter. If Ripplescale died… If Legend died… The cost would be enormous, perhaps too much to bear.
Turning from the last of the Empire gangsters on the Hill—men crying bitter tears of pain as they tore their frozen skin from their weapons, warm blood hissing when it met freezing metal—Keith noticed the rapidly approaching 'vehicle' first; a chunk of city street ripped out by force of gravity covered in capes. A small young woman knelt touching and guiding the crumbling chunk, while white ghosts poured off an armored man bearing a spear, surrounding the hilltop battle. Rune and Crusader. Two women, both around ten feet tall, stood ready to engage, armed and armored. Fenja and Menja. And finally, wearing a full set of armor with a crown of spikes, stood Kaiser. He cursed whatever incompetence in Piggot's department that had them all out here alone with no backup, and prayed that the Protectorate team would be here soon.
The Force gave a sharp warning to duck, and Keith did one better, turning into his Breaker state, feeling the bullet pass through and out him as a spray of molten metal. If he had a minute, he could easily take out Victor. Would gladly do so. He didn't have a minute, let alone thirty seconds, as the chunk of street raced closer for the hill.
Once it was close enough that the destruction of their 'vehicle' wouldn't kill who rode down with it, Keith unleashed a series of blindingly bright lights, piercing lasers that tore through the power-controlled substance like it was paper. Crusader caught a ride with his ghosts, Rune piloted her chunk down alongside one twin, while the other twin grew as she fell, and Kasier hit the ground with a reverberating clang-splat that must have sent his head spinning.
Knight Ripplescale was amongst the debris in seconds, their purple blade out and swinging. Rising up like a zombie, Kaiser extended his hand and metal spikes appeared, defending the growing Fenja from the Jedi Knight as she got her bearings. Twisted metal groans as the protosaber did its duty, tearing apart Kaiser's defenses like paper.
Joslyn's blue blade cut through the ethereal forms of the Crusader's ghosts, bursting them like delicate balloons. As she moved closer, the scent of ancient dust mingled with the metallic tang of her weapon. The echoes of her swift strikes reverberated through the air, a symphony of clashes and pops. Menja stood by, a stalwart guardian eyeing the Force Sensitive warily, while the panicked Rune trembled in fear. The tension in the air was palpable, as if the very fabric of the Force crackled with anticipation. Keith, driven by the urgency of the situation, hastened to join Ripplescale, their destinies intertwined in the battle ahead.
Keith raced past Fenja, the sound of the heat ray crackling through the air from his hand. The intense heat turned a section of Kaiser's metallic armor into a glowing cherry red. With a swift movement, Kaiser turned to confront Keith, momentarily obscuring Knight Ripplescale from view. Suddenly, the air filled with the whooshing sound of the purple blade swinging towards Fenja.
As Fenja lost her balance and fell, her left ankle detached from her foot, completely sliced through. The sound of bones cracking echoed through the air, accompanied by a sickening squelch of flesh being torn. Knight Ripplescale swiftly maneuvered past her outstretched hand grasping wildly and delivered a powerful strike, the impact reverberating through the air. It was followed by a gruesome sight as three fingers and a chunk of palm were ripped away from the giantess. The woman let out a horrible screech, a piercing sound that sent shivers down the spine, and curled up on herself, desperately clutching the severed limb.
Keith, dodging massive spikes growing around him, could feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins as he concentrated on burning Kaiser out of his armor. Meanwhile, Ripplescale closed in on Kaiser as the man gestured grandly, his words falling on deaf ears as Keith had no desire to listen and had been ignoring him. The purple protosaber lashed out, its blade slicing through the air with a low hum, and a pointing limb fell to the ground. Molten metal dripped from both ends, the sizzling sound filling the air, and the stump glowed cherry-red, radiating intense heat. Kaiser couldn't contain the pain any longer and let out a ragged scream, a sound resembling the tearing of paper. He collapsed onto his knees on the ground, staring at his arm in shock.
Crusader lay motionless on the ground as Keith circled back, the sight of Menja covered in cauterized wounds as she valiantly protected Rune from Joslyn sent a shiver down Keith's spine. Keith joined the fray only for Menja to be swiftly defeated, leaving Rune begging for mercy, which was granted.
As the PRT and Protectorate finally arrived, black helicopters descended upon Captain's Hill, disgorging troopers who fanned out across the battlefield. Dauntless and Aegis descended from the sky, while Armsmaster and Miss Militia disembarked from a helicopter. The once serene hill now exuded a chilling atmosphere, the air tainted with a haunting mix of icy coldness, the metallic tang of blood, and the acrid odor of cauterized flesh. Faint sounds of men quietly weeping or moaning carried on the wind that rustled through the surrounding trees. A bizarre thought crossed Keith's mind amidst the grim scene - Captain's Hill would no longer serve as a training ground - and he let out a sharp, mirthless bark of laughter.
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Tsumegothorns
Getting sticky.
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Good stuff. Cannot wait for Amy to become a padawan.
Adullahan
Know what you're doing yet?
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Thanks! It should be fun getting a Brockton Bay Order together. I'm wanting to get Taylor as a padawan as well
Chapter 8
New
Adullahan
Know what you're doing yet?
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The blaring sound of sirens pierced through the air, blending with the thunderous thump of helicopter blades as a black chopper lifted off, carrying an injured Hookwolf in desperate need of medical attention. A fleet of ambulances rumbled up the Hill, their presence adding to the symphony of noise. Overhead, news helicopters circled, their rotors creating a rhythmic hum that echoed in the background, and on the ground, reporters swarmed the parking lot, their voices overlapping as they bombarded the scene with questions, their cameras capturing long-range footage. The battle had been a spectacle, its effects visible from miles away. The sharp flashes of Knight Ripplescale's weaponry had lit up the sky like a distress signal, while the sound of gunfire had carried on the wind, reaching far and wide. Now, like vultures descending upon prey, the reporters descended upon the aftermath.
PRT agents worked tirelessly to keep them at bay, their authoritative presence a barrier against the relentless onslaught of questions. Nearby, troopers meticulously combed the area, their gridsearch pattern resembling a methodical dance as they searched for missing body parts. Troopers also stood guard over the trembling Empire capes and gangsters, their vigilance a stark reminder of the chaos that had unfolded. It was like a scene out of the opening of some horror or serial killer film.
Colin should have felt a sense of relief, given the successful outcome of the battle. The Empire 88, or at least the capes that actually mattered, had been captured, all but Victor and Krieg. It was a swift and decisive battle, if a startlingly violent one.
All it had taken was Legend, the head of the Protectorate, being nearly assassinated on Colin's watch, and forced to fight a desperate battle, while the PRT and the Protectorate were distracted. At the same time Victor had been trying to kill Legend, Krieg, Purity, Night and Fog had led the Protectorate into a fight with ABB where both Oni Lee and Lung had shown up, turning it into a desperate three-way battle in the Docks, far from Captain's Hill. It had been a cunning plan for the Empire, and it had taken precious minutes for the Protectorate to disengage, minutes where Hookwolf made a good attempt at Battery's life. Minutes that gave Victor his almost-certain Kill Order, and maybe even the rest of the surviving Empire 88. Minutes that Knight Ripplescale had spent tearing through the Empire, maiming gangster and cape alike with their lightsaber.
The Case 53 in question spoke quietly with Legend and Battery, the three isolating themselves from the rest of the meadow, Legend leaning against an old oak tree while Battery stood on one foot, leaning against Knight Ripplescale. Colin liked Ripplescale. Still did, even after all this. If there was anyone who would understand the desire to let loose and de-hand some Nazis, it was him. But it was a serious breach of the Unwritten Rules, especially the maiming of the non-Parahumans by a hero, and would be viewed as an escalation by the Endslayer even if the Empire started it. The problem was that Ripplescale was a foreign cape with foreign senses of justice, how capes act, and what is viewed as acceptable levels of violence.
And hadn't that been a revelation to learn? Legend had taken aside Colin Sunday, and gave him an abbreviated history of Ripplescale, their Order and the Parahuman dynamic that had evolved on their Earth. And now the first signs of friction between cape culture, and Ripplescale's cultural mores had appeared, drastically so.
He approached the group, catching Legend's eye. Legend seemed to be filled with a sense of tired resolution, while Battery seemed to be deep in thought. Knight Ripplescale looked at him with their bright blue eyes. Colin cleared his throat, drawing their attention to him. "Knight Ripplescale, may I have a word?" Colin asked politely.
Ripplescale nodded, their feathers rustling as they shifted their saurian bulk to face him. "Of course, Armsmaster. What is on your mind?"
Colin took a moment to gather his thoughts. He needed to approach this delicately, mindful of the cultural differences at play. "I wanted to discuss the recent events during the battle," he began. "Specifically, the level of violence and maiming inflicted by you on the non-Parahumans."
Ripplescale's expression remained impassive, but Colin could see a hint of something in their eyes. "I understand that your cultural norms may differ from ours, but it is important to adhere to the Unwritten Rules. Excessive violence, especially towards non-Parahumans, can lead to unintended consequences."
"Unintended consequences greater then me and my Initiates being ambushed and assaulted with lethal force?"
"Colin paused, taking a moment to choose his words carefully. "I understand that you and your Initiates were attacked, and I empathize with the need to defend yourselves," he replied. "But it's crucial to consider the bigger picture. If we deviate too far from the Unwritten Rules, we risk escalating the violence and causing more harm in the long run."
Ripplescale's feathers seemed to stiffen for a moment. "You mean the Unwritten Rules, who by their very nature are unenforceable? The Rules this Empire flagrantly breaks? The Rules that appear to specifically not apply to civilians, given the actions of villains daily across this country? Those Rules? You expect me to adhere to them, even in the face of lethal force? Do not make me laugh, Armsmaste," they said with cool disdain.
Colin paused, considering Ripplescale's words. It was true that the Empire had a history of disregarding the Unwritten Rules, but that didn't justify a hero stooping to their level, regardless of force used against them. He needed to find common ground. Dragon told him so, often.
"I understand your frustration," Colin replied, "and I agree that the Empire's actions are concerning." Battery coughed. "However, as heroes, we must hold ourselves to a higher standard. We have a responsibility to protect everyone, including non-Parahumans, and to uphold the principles that define us."
Ripplescale's tone was straightforward, and they twisted their head as if quizzical. "And that is very admirable, but if we don't respond forcefully, they will continue to harm innocent people, as they have for years, for decades. I cannot simply turn a blind eye to their atrocities, past, present and future. Those men I fought were seeking lethal harm. I could feel their intent through the Force, and I responded with as limited force as I was willing in that moment, while addressing their very real chance of killing Battery or Legend."
Colin couldn't hold back, his voice sharp and tinged with frustration. "Limited force? You cut their hands off with a swift stroke of your blade, like clockwork. There's nine ordinary American citizens missing their hand or forearm on this hill. I understand the urgency and the need to protect your… Initiates, but we must consider the consequences of our actions. By resorting to extreme measures, we risk escalating the violence and perpetuating a cycle of retaliation."
Legend spoke up. "The crux of the matter is that for Knight Ripplescale this was appropriate and proportionate, Armsmaster, and not a bought of excessive violence. They have spent three long years in brutal internecine warfare against villains seeking to overthrow their government. What they did was the action of a soldier, fighting a war. It may not have been proper, or convenient, for us, but for them it was the correct choice, faced with battle. And I honestly think things would have been worse if they hadn't acted so swiftly. Without their quick action to cauterize my wound with their protosaber, I wouldn't have entered my Breaker state and survived the second bullet. I could very well be dead."
Colin paused, taking in Legend's words. He understood the weight of Ripplescale's experiences and the context in which they operated. The truth was, he had never faced the same level of violence and desperation that Ripplescale must have endured, despite how Brockton Bay sometimes seemed. It was easy for him to advocate for more peaceful means when he hadn't experienced the horrors of war firsthand. And today had been an outsized battle, with several dozens worth of Empire footsoldiers targeting capes with assault weaponry, as well as multiple groups of capes attacking without holding back. A truly chaotic and complex situation to fight your way out of and one that would stymie even the greatest of heroes.
But Colin believed in the power of compassion and the potential for redemption. He had seen villains turn their lives around, given the opportunity. Assault was a valued member of the Protectorate. Would he have been so eager to join up, if his arm had been removed at the elbow during his capture? Colin didn't think so.
"I understand you've faced hardships, Ripplescale," Colin said, his voice filled with empathy. "And I respect the choices you've made based on those experiences. But we must remember that our duty as heroes is not just to protect, but to inspire. We must strive to be a beacon of hope, even in the darkest times."
Ripplescale's feathers ruffled, a mix of frustration and understanding evident on their face. "Hope can only get you so far, Armsmaster," they replied, their voice tinged with resignation. "Sometimes, the threat is too great, the danger too imminent. In those moments, hope alone cannot save lives. Action must be taken, even if it means crossing certain cultural boundaries you all appear to have that I do not. I apologize that my actions caused you so much trouble, but I am not sorry for the act itself. Those men meant lethal harm for me and mine, and I handled them accordingly."
Colin took a deep breath, grappling with the complexity of the situation. He couldn't ignore the truth in Ripplescale's words, nor could he abandon his own principles. The path forward seemed uncertain.
Legend spoke again before Colin could. "I think we're all going to have to agree to disagree for the moment. It's been a long day already, and I'd rather not listen to you two go in circles. Knight Ripplescale, is Battery healed?"
"She finished about half a minute ago," they spoke.
Battery gently, then steadily, put her foot down, before hopping a couple times. "Hey, good as new! Thanks, Ripplescale."
"Then lets get going. We need to address the crowd down there, and then I'm certain Director Piggot will want to say some things of her own to Knight Ripplescale," Legend said, in an even tone.
As they made their way down Captain's Hill to the parking lot, they were met with a scene of chaos. Flashing lights from parked squad cars mixed with the light of photography, creating a disorienting visual display. The air was filled with the cacophony of shouts and cries, accompanied by the piercing sound of wailing sirens. A crowd of journalists surged at the sight of them, their cries unable to be heard.
Legend approached the barricade and paused, the shouts and cries slowly dimming as he said nothing. When the crowd simmered down, he spoke.
"Today, as myself, Battery and Knight Ripplescale attended to our lessons on Captain's Hill, the Empire 88 attempted to assassinate me." He held up his right arm, ending a little past the elbow in a smooth pale cap. "Victor crippled me in his opening shot, and Kaiser proceeded to send almost every major cape in his roster against us, with intent to harm, deadly harm."
A roar went up, as questions flooded the air. Legend waited patiently for them to die down to a rumble before he continued.
"Thanks to the swift and decisive actions of myself, Battery and Knight Ripplescale, the battle was won, but at a cost. It is not a cost any of us have to bear, but instead a cost our enemies have to bear. In pursuit of ending the lethal battle as soon as possible, Knight Ripplescale resorted to removing hands and limbs of Empire 88 members, cape and non-cape alike." He paused, swallowing. "Knight Ripplescale is a foreign cape, from a different Earth, with different rules of engagement. What they and Earth Bet consider acceptable are two different things. The Protectorate does not condone their actions, but I personally believe that without the swift action of Knight Ripplescale leading to the activation my Breaker State, I would be dead right now."
The flood of questions returns, and this time Legend begins to answer them.
David stared wildly at the tv screen. "What did I say? What did I say?!" to no one in particular, alone in his home. It was on mute and showing the latest news, footage from a news helicopter of three figures with lightsabers fighting, and dicing, gang members. "I knew he was going to carve up Brockton Bay like the freak he is," he muttered.
Cricket? Maimed. Her right hand carved in half.
Stormtiger? Amputated. Missing his right hand and part of his forearm.
Hookwolf? Dying. Partial organ failure in multiple major organs from piercing his core and lancing him through with white hot plasma. It's not expected he live the night without Panacea, who was refusing to heal him.
Rune? Perfectly safe and being treated like glass in hopes of turning and joining the Wards and letting her gain something out of this massive clusterfuck.
Crusader? Injured. Both arms broken in multiple places and his jaw swollen shut. Battery did a number on him.
Menja? Maimed. Missing fingers and toes, and criss-crossed with cauterized flesh. Again, Battery. A disturbing pattern.
Fenja? Amputated. Missing her left foot and half her right hand.
Kaiser? Amputated. Covered in 1st and 2nd degree burns and his left arm at the elbow.
Victor? MIA, and considered highly dangerous and highly motivated to seek revenge.
Othala? Caught fleeing the scene in civilian disguise, having forgotten to change out of her eyepatch.
Krieg, Night, Fog and Purity were all also MIA, having fled the Docks after they distracted the Protectorate long enough. Kill Orders for all four were being drafted, the writing on the wall. The Empire 88 had attempted to kill the head of the Protectorate in seemingly cold blood. There could be no quarter left, according to the hotheads like Tagg.
Emily couldn't believe what had unfolded in her city as she was stuck in the PRT building. Nine capes arrested and seven of them left injured in the PRT hospital. It was a chaotic mix of emotions for her - a miracle that no one died yet, a coup in successfully apprehending the dangerous capes and the majority of the Empire's frontline roster in one fell swoop, and a disaster in the level of violence displayed by the Endslayer and the Empire alike.
As the news broke, Emily knew the press would have a field day with this. The violence exhibited by the Endslayer would undoubtedly make headlines and spark debates about the limits of power and the consequences of vigilante justice. It was a story that would sell, but it also highlighted the darker side of the cape world. Especially coming from one of the Endslayers, it may even cause there to be a boost in such violence, as hapless capes attempt to do what a Case 53 soldier thought was appropriate response.
Eidolon's warning about Ripplescale's violent tendencies echoed in Emily's mind. The enigmatic hero had mentioned it during their strange phone call just days ago. But she hadn't anticipated the extent to which Ripplescale would go. The brutal act of cutting off limbs and hands, both the capes, and especially a number of the Empire's footsoldiers, showed a disturbing willingness to break or ignore the Unwritten Rules and unleash wanton violence for a hero.
Emily couldn't help but wonder what drove Ripplescale to such extremes. Was it a deep-rooted anger or a twisted sense of justice from their own Earth? Whatever the reason, it was clear that this cape posed a significant threat to both heroes and villains alike, and when she asked them why they resorted to such a level of violence, Ripplescale had the audacity to make some odd noise that apparently meant laughter, according to Joslyn when Emily asked her afterwards. She didn't like what many of the noises the cape made meant.
"You ask me why? You really do not understand? They intended to kill me, so I put them down with quickly and with sufficient force, like you do with any gangster whose blaster is bigger than their brain and means to do wanton savagery. Removing their hands or limbs was the quickest, most sufficient path forward through the chaos of battle, to end a lethal engagement with as little casualties as possible."
Exactly not what Emily wanted to hear from the cape. Oh, she understood the logic. But it was a soldier's logic and not a hero's.
"It's not your place to make that kind of decision. What you did was not justice, it was violence and cruelty, plain and simple, and has no place in our United States of America," Emily told the Case 53.
"It has no place in your United States?" A falling whistle. "I have spent time studying and listening. I have examined parts of your local hypernet and let me ask you something, Director Emily Piggot," they said, their voice calm and methodical.
"How many brilliant minds and kind hearts do their initiations have to snuff out? How many Brockton Bay capes have to be sent to Gesselschaft for brainwashing, snatched off the streets by the Empire and sentenced to hell on Earth? How many lives ruined, homes destroyed and business burnt down, dreams shattered? How many, before you stop playing your game of Cops and Robbers and start handling the villains that live in your city, Director? These men, this Empire," they hissed, their tail stiff and trembling, feathers flattened, their calmness gone, "seeks to restore Nazis to power. I have read about these Nazis. It sickens me that seventy years later, people like that are still allowed to exist, and spew their hateful views without a care, without threat. That the Empire 88 was allowed to operate with impunity for so long. What I have done today, I have no regrets. No regrets at all."
Emily bristled at the unending accusations, the disdain in the Case 53's voice by the end, the sheer emotion in their body. Oh my god, she thought half in wonder and half fright, this is a cape that truly hates me.
She snapped. "Everything I've done is to keep this city alive, and today you risk that with your blatant and flagrant violations of the Unwritten Rules. Kaiser and Stormtiger are missing arms, for God's sake, and Fenja her foot. And that's to say nothing else, like what you apparently taught Battery to do, maiming Menja like she was in a torture flick and practically killing Hookwolf. As far as the ridiculous accusation I let the Empire operate when I've spent every goddamn day of my life fighting them, with a shoe string budget and a gaggle of mad capes, I'll let that slide, once. Once. But as for the rest, what do you have to say for yourself?"
"One, I did nothing beyond communicating a fraction of the suffering that these men have imposed on others in an act of self-defense. If they did not wish to suffer consequences, they should not commit actions. Two, I acted to end a potentially lethal situation with as limited violence as I had available to me. I am a… Monk of the Path. Disarming my opponent is the kinder option, when I wield my lightsaber. It is not a kind option, but the kinder. Death comes for us all but it needed not come for anyone today. Three, I taught Battery the basics of how to defend herself in the time we've had training our blades, and if she used that it to take on a killer like Hookwolf and win, and more importantly, survive? I am proud of my student, Director."
They just didn't get it, so Emily explained in plain language. "Capes will see what you've done, how far you're willing to go, and they'll escalate. Expect permanent harm and maiming to be on the table going forward, since you've selected them as options. Every time you escalate, expect other capes to escalate in response. That's how this whole thing works. Stay in your lane and don't cause trouble? No trouble gets caused for you. Make your way into other lanes and cause trouble? The hammer comes down on you. You've just jumped three lanes, causing a pileup. And you haven't just embroiled yourself in it, you brought Legend and Battery into this mess."
Piggot took a sip of water, trying to settle her nerves, as the cape stared at her with those beady eyes. "You will be confined to base for the immediate future and escorted around the city, while the situation with the Empire settles. Victor is still missing and a danger to all of us, as shown by his attempt to kill Legend."
Knight Ripplescale let out a wheezing noise, a kind of braying. "No, I don't think that I will."
Emily raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"You will not confine me because my sense of justice and due punishment differs from your own, or because your world's bizarre cultural artifacts says my actions are uncouth and improper, yet allow the villains to do the same, unchecked."
Emily stared at Ripplescale in disbelief. "This isn't a negotiation. You've caused a massive incident and escalated violence to an unacceptable level. You will be confined to base for your own safety and to prevent further destabilization of the situation. There will be those seeking revenge and I don't need more maimed American citizens."
Ripplescale's three eyes narrowed, and their feathers ruffled. "I am not one of your subordinates to be ordered about, Director. I acted in defense of myself and others against a group that intended lethal harm. Their injuries are a consequence of their own choices and actions. I will not take responsibility."
"That's not how we handle things here," Emily snapped. "There are rules and procedures in place for a reason. You can't just maim villains as you see fit!"
"I can and I will act how I deem necessary. Your rules have allowed groups like the Empire to flourish and terrorize innocents, a revolving door inside your prison letting capes continually escape or get broken free. Well not anymore," Ripplescale countered, a tense resolution in their voice. "I will not stand idly by while such evil persists, especially if it waves a slugthrower in my face. I will handle it like a Monk. If you wish to confine me, you are welcome to try, but I warn you it will not end well."
Emily's face flushed with anger at the continued accusations. "Is that a threat?"
"Merely a statement of fact," Ripplescale said, before taking a deep breath and exhaling, looking at Emily straight in the eyes. "I am not your subordinate, nor am I beholden to your rules. I will continue to act as I see fit to protect this city and its people from those who would do them harm. It is my duty as a Monk of the Light. If that conflicts with your procedures, so be it. I will do my duty, know the Light guides my path, and be content with that which comes."
Emily took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. This situation was rapidly spiraling out of control. "Knight Ripplescale, I understand you believe you were acting in the best interests of the people and of justice by committing the actions you have today, but please try and understand. We have these rules and procedures in place for good reasons. Escalating violence like this will only lead to more violence and chaos. We need to work within the system to bring criminals to justice, not take matters into our own hands, and becoming judge, jury and executioner."
Ripplescale's tail swished back and forth as they considered Emily's words. After a moment, they spoke, their voice calm but firm. "Director Piggot, I hear your concerns. But I must respectfully disagree. Your system, your rules, have allowed groups like the Empire and the ABB to blossom for far too long. They terrorize innocents, spread hatred, and corrupt your society. Allowing them a foothold was a step too far, and allowing them to flourish like they have? You have introduced a virus into the body politic, a virus that must be hunted down, and its evil pulled up by the roots, lest it infect another generation, growing in the warm, dark hearts of man. With their leaders disabled and in chains, the Empire will collapse into squabbling tribes easily handled by your law enforcement, and I can focus on the ABB next. I am perfectly suited for this type of mission, having dealt with these types of organizations back on Coruscating Light."
Emily stared at Ripplescale in disbelief, her frustration mounting. Were they mad? "You can't just declare war on the gangs like this, single-handedly. There are consequences, ripple effects that impact the entire city. We have to consider civilian safety, economic impacts, potential power vacuums. It's not as simple as just taking out the leaders."
"Perhaps not," Ripplescale conceded. "But allowing them to continue operating with impunity is no longer an option. I will not stand idly by while evil festers and grows. If you wish to work with me to dismantle these criminal organizations that infest your city in a more... measured way, I am open to that. But make no mistake—they will be dismantled, one way or another."
The conversation between continued just as intense and lasted for an hour. During this time, they delved into several thought-provoking topics that had Emily's blood boiling. These topics ranged from the boundaries of justice and the conflicting opinions regarding the use of maiming, the greater Protectorate and PRT's failure to assist Brockton Bay in any meaningful way, to Ripplescale's bold claims about Piggot's role in perpetuating a failing status quo, and Emily's firm, loud, stance on holding Ripplescale responsible for any rise in violence against the Protectorate resulting from their actions. In short, it was an absolute shitshow and not what Emily wanted to deal with.
When the Case 53 left the room, their tail stiff in the air, Emily pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. As the Director of the ENE PRT, Emily had always believed in following proper procedures and maintaining oversight to ensure the safety and well-being of both heroes and civilians. But today's events had shaken her convictions. The Empire 88, a notorious gang with ties to white supremacy and dangerous ideologies, had crossed a line by targeting Legend, the head of the Protectorate. Their actions had left a trail of destruction and violence in their wake. Violence a hero committed.
While she understood the urgency to dismantle the Empire, Emily couldn't help but question the methods employed by Knight Ripplescale. Maiming and amputating nine gang members, and that's excluding capes, felt excessive and morally questionable. It challenged the principles she had dedicated her career to upholding. And the worst thing of all, is that Ripplescale did not even seem bothered by it. They held no remorse for the violence they did, cape or otherwise.
Emily knew the Empire needed to be stopped, but she couldn't shake off the unease that came with accepting such extreme measures, especially from a cape, and a Case 53 at that. You never knew what was going on in a Case 53 brain. They just were built differently from humans, unique, alien. It showed today with Ripplescale's obstinance to admit their violence was overzealous; it was their predatory mind. Made them violent, like Eidolon said.
But for now, she needed to set aside her doubts and focus on the immediate task at hand—ensuring the safety of the city and its inhabitants. The aftermath of the Empire's collapse would require careful handling, both in terms of public perception and the inevitable power vacuum that would arise. Whichever gang came next out of this, and there would be one, would hopefully prove to be less of a perpetual problem as the Empire had been.
The beach was empty, stony and sandy. The wind rustled the sea grass, the waves pounded the shore, and the cries of seagulls echoed across the bay as Ripplescale simply sat and listened, feeling the life in all things that surrounded them, meditating on their place. It was much easier to decompress after a bought of violence in a place like this, than in the stark mediation room aboard a Venator. Jax had taken to filling them with plantlife but it wasn't enough.
They had been angry today. Angry that those men almost killed their Initiates. Would have. Keith and Joslyn only survived today because of the Force, and because they trusted the Force. And because Ripplescale had remembered that they weren't children and would sometimes need lightsaber blades to do what they were made to do. Because for all a lightsaber was a tool, it was a weapon first. They had done the right think, and their initiates had done the right thing, because they had survived.
They were angry Piggot but really, they were angry at Cauldron. The Empire 88 would never exist in a world without the ridiculous Parahuman Feudalism 'experiment', and or if they did, they wouldn't be near as much trouble as they were. This was their fault, one way or another, and in the end, Ripplescale would like to think they'll make them pay for almost costing them the only two other Force Sensitives on the planet.
They had not expected the PRT to be so… upset with their actions. It's possible that they had been overly aggressive in their determination to end the battle the Empire 88 had started, but the Clone War had ingrained in them the understanding that the longer a skirmish persisted, the more swiftly death approached. And losing their Initiates was never going to be an option for Ripplescale.
Men armed with lethal weaponry, unable to be easily restrained or put down by stun blasts or some other form of less-lethal weaponry, in a chaotic battlefield with multiple 'Sith' meant resorting to Shii-Cho in its most potent form and disarming the opponent with speed and force. It was simply what was done, how a Jedi acted. They didn't take enjoyment out of the violence, nor satisfaction, much, like the Director seemed to think. It was a logical choice. If the enemy is handless, they cannot operate their weaponry and potentially kill someone.
These Unwritten Rules… They spat on the beach, a flicker of anger in their heart. A stricture surely invented by Cauldron to twist and turn this world into a parody of justice, where villains got to go home at the end of the day and put their masks up after committing all kinds of crimes. The Rules were strictly upheld by heroes, while villains showed as little regard for them as they could get away with, causing the heroes to be handicapped in their ability to deliver justice, thinking it somehow more moral to let villains act with impunity.
Then they sighed and let go of the anger. There were many things to be angry at Cauldron about, they did not need to make one up. Instead, they began focusing on their emotions, examining them as one would precious jewels, then casting them into the ocean of the Force.
Sometime later, their thoughts somewhat settled as the sun cast the scene in brilliant orange, an older gentleman came and sat beside them. He had dark skin and a bushy white beard, a cream knit sweater and dark pants, and a kind smile. He felt curious and happy in the Force.
"I'm surprised to see you so lonely," he said. "Shouldn't you be out celebrating, big guy?"
"Why do you say that?" Ripplescale asked the man, curiously.
"The Empire is dead, my scaley man. You taught Kaiser a lesson he ain't ever going to forget, and all his little Nazi friends too. They're shouting your name in the hood, and Little Japan, Koreatown, and all the enclaves in Brockton Bay. You're a hero, man. Heroes shouldn't be sitting alone on the beach, sulking. They need to be amongst the people, man, partying."
They considered the man's words. Perhaps a visit to unfamiliar parts of the city would be best, something to lift their mood and see the direct results of their actions, something to get the bitter taste of argument out of their mouth. "How does one get to this 'Hood' or 'Little Japan'?"
The man grinned. "Ron Hilcrest," he said, putting out a hand. "And I'll be more than glad to take you to the Block Party in the Hood. It's going to be a wild one tonight. Everybody's going to be out."
They shook it and said, "Ripplescale Redfeather, Monk of the Light."
Fitting into his vehicle was a bit of a hassle, and uncomfortable but Ripplescale made it work. When they parked, they could already hear pounding music and shouts, which grew louder as they walked down the street with Ron, people milling in the streets and calling out to them as they passed, the crowd parting around them.
"Is that him?!"
"Them, idiot," another said, punching the first.
"Holy shit, the Endslayer's here?!"
"DEATH TO THE EMPIRE! LONG LIVE KNIGHT RIPPLESCALE! WOOOOOOOOH!" screamed one man without a shirt on, shaking his belly back and forth, already intoxicated.
So on and so forth, the cries came out over the sound of music and the crowd, as Ron led them through the party. Smoke smelling of strange citrus and pine filled the air, and beverages were in every hand. People passed what looked like fat deathsticks with that pungent smoke, laughing and cheering. They could feel the burgeoning hope, the joy and the relief of these people. Many of them were dark in their pigmentation, a target of the Empire, and what Ripplescale had done brought them much needed relief.
For hours they shook hands, spoke with people, listened to their stories, and, of course, ate wonderful food cooked in the street or in open homes and drank cheap but refreshing beverages called 'beer'. It was difficult listening to stories of the crimes of the Empire 88, knowing they were a microcosm of the pain and suffering surely being experienced not only by Ripplescale's own people but many non-humanoid aliens in the Corsuca Galaxy. It was also hard, knowing that all this could have been prevented if Cauldron hadn't wanted to make this city into a testbed for their ridiculous notions. But these were hopeful, happy, joyful people, and so Ripplescale did not let dark emotions overwhelm them, instead taking small moments to release them into the Force, focusing on the joy of connection.
People spoke about everything and anything with them, they spoke about their hopes and dreams, their fears, their desires and wants. They spoke about family and friends lost to the Empire, about their favorite homegrown capes who seemingly disappeared, about business burnt and lives wrecked. But they also spoke about their hopes for the future, and their dreams they'd never given up, about their desires for change, for a better Brockton Bay, a desire that they felt could see fruition now with the Empire a shambling corpse. They spoke about their fears, irrational and rational, of Endbringers coming or the Butcher returning or even, some whispered, the Slaughterhouse Nine making their way back. And throughout it all, Ripplescale spoke and offered what advice they could, or simply listened when that was needed, letting their instincts guide them as well as memories of doing such a thing, years before, when they were a young Knight and rescued a town from a group of long-term violent gang-squatters that had committed crimes with impunity. They were much worse at it then, they thought amusedly.
So when they found themselves cornered by a young woman, a streak of purple in her hair, begging to be a Padawan, they didn't immediately say no, intrigued by her apparent knowledge of their true nature.
"Please? I've watched the footage of Captain's Hill, and its like swoosh, zoom, zwee, you're dancing about tearing through those fuckin' Nazi's like they're paper. That's what I want, I want to be like that, so graceful and fast that they can't handle me."
Ripplescale sighed. "Young one, I cannot begin to tell you how wrong of a way to approach this that is. Violence should not be cherished or desired, but meted out with as little passion as possible. Something I myself should focus on better. There is far more to being what I am then wielding a lightsaber." They paused and let out a whistling sigh. "Something I need to remember, as well."
The girl frowned, "But the lightsaber is the best part about being a Jedi, it's like a sword but cooler! I mean, I like the Force, and telekinesis would be nice, but really, it's the laser sword."
"And that, young one, is why I won't be teaching you. Your desire will lead you down dangerous and murky paths. The Force is not a toy, or just a tool, it is something far more encompassing and beautiful. And when twisted to the wrong ends, disastrous."
The girl grinned at them. "You said it. You said the Force. You really are a Jedi! They were right!" She did a little fist pump.
They glanced around, and found only a few others listening in, and sighed. "Yes. Yes, I am a Jedi Knight of the Galactic Republic." They waited for laughter, and amusement, and got some but none from the girl, surprisingly. Instead, she radiated satisfaction and glee.
"I'm Aisha, by the way. I read all the rumors on PHO, and I've seen all the videos of you and Legend and Battery, and I'm a Truther! This is so cool," she gushed rapidly, "I have so many questions, like why are you here? Did you mean to or was it an accident? What's the last thing you were doing, before you fought the Simurgh? Did you know—"
They held up a clawed hand, and she stopped. "Young Aisha, please, one question at a time. And let me ask you this, what is a 'Truther'?"
"Oh, well, you see, on PHO there's two camps of thought about you and your powers and the whole 'Jedi' rumors. There's the Truthers and the Fakers. Truthers think, well, you're the real thing. There's other Earths out there, billions of them scientists think, so why not other galaxies, far far away? And dimensional travel is real, so a lot of things are possible. Fakers think it's all fake, for a variety of reasons. Some think that its all a ploy to get people to distrust the Endslayer, while others think it is some cry for attention, and so on and so forth. Their reasons are many. But yeah… I'm a Truther! And I was right! Brian is going to eat crow."
"There are rumors about me?" they asked, confused. They had only told a very few people they were a Jedi Knight before their experience with Amy told them to keep it quiet.
"Yeah, some Australian cape, Mauve-something? Anyway, she posted with her official account that you might be a Jedi Knight, including evidence, and that started the ball rolling and people started coming out of the woodwork, capes who witnessed you in Canberra doing impossible things like reacting before things happen, and out-TKing the freaking Simurgh, and of course all your daily meditations and martial arts and you're a crazy telekinetic. It all fits and got people thinking. When Panacea came out as a Truther yesterday, it almost broke PHO."
They really need to check the local hypernet more often, if this was happening. What's the point of pretending to be a Monk of the Path, if a good chunk of the world thinks they're a Jedi? They'll need to consult with Keith about their path forward. They would much rather fully live their truth and be accepted.
"Amy came to my defense?" they asked, feeling a bit of pride. They should really visit the Dallons again, and see if there wasn't anything they could do for the girl. She was such a little bundle of misery that really needed a friend and Ripplescale hadn't even checked back in with her. They resolved to do so as soon as possible.
"Yeah, said you don't have any human DNA, that you didn't evolve on Earth, and that she believes you're a Jedi Knight. Like I said, it almost broke PHO. People went nuts, the thread had to be locked because of the Faker flame wars that started badmouthing Panacea. Like, holy crap! Badmouthing Panacea? Now, are you going to answer my questions?"
"I am not sure why I am here," they lied, "but the Force will guide me where I need to be. I did not mean to come here, and the last thing I remember," they paused and took a deep breath, "was Order 66."
The glee that had been bright and cheery curdled and crumbled.
"You died?" Aisha asked, a tinge of mournfulness in her tone.
"I almost died, until I was sent here," they clarified. "I was close to becoming one in the Force when something snatched me and brought me here."
"And then you went on to kill an Endbringer…" Aisha said with wide eyes, considering the circumstance. "Woah. You're freaking bad-ass, Knight Ripplescale! Like, to go from that to Canberra, and win? Hardcore. I couldn't do it. I'd probably cry my butt off."
"Thank you, I suppose," they sighed. That day had been a long one.
"You really think you're a Jedi," stated one of the men who'd been listening to them talk.
"I am," they nodded. "It may seem difficult to believe but—"
The man waved him off, slightly slurring as he said, "Superheroesh were stuck in comic books until the 80s, whose to say Jedi won't find themselves popping out of the shinematic woodwork now? It may be a more than a bit ridiculoush, but so was Scion, a naked golden man running around saving kittens and stopping volcanoes like some kind of retarded Shuperman. Perhaps you're the Scion of a new era," he mused, eyeing them with a slightly glazed look. Others around him seemed intrigued by the notion, looking at Ripplescale with new eyes.
They hoped to be nothing like Scion, the avatar of the golden worm, but in the most barest of ways, doing good and shaping the world positively.
"Perhaps," they replied. "Perhaps I am a sign of something new," Ripplescale conceded.
"If you're a Jedi, what's Coruscant like?" asked another, younger man, maybe twenty with curly dark hair and a grin, like he was catching Ripplescale out in a trap.
"Coruscant, more than anything else," they began, "is loud. Loud in the Force, and loud audibly, the wind endlessly rushing as the Climate Controllers kept Corsuscant cool and the endless traffic hummed. Over a trillion beings live on Coruscant, and the gleaming surface of near-orbital towers where the Jedi Temple resides is just the tip of the iceberg." They continued, waxing lyrical about sunrises and sunsets, about the stark urban beauty, and the streams of aerial traffic like arteries, and all sorts of aspects of upper Coruscanti life.
Answering that opened a floodgate of questions, from Aisha, and the young man, Timmy, and other folks listening in around them that joined, and as the night progressed Ripplescale found themselves telling tales of the Corsuca Galaxy to curious minds, sharing stories of battles fought on distant planets, the intricate politics of the Galactic Senate, and the grandeur of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Aisha and the others were enthralled, hanging onto every word as Ripplescale painted vivid pictures with their descriptions.
As the night wore on, the atmosphere shifted from amusement and doubt to awe and excitement. Ripplescale's presence, their connection to the Force, and their tales of adventure had captivated all who heard, even if they were uncertain how true it was. It was as if a spark of hope had been ignited in their hearts, reminding them that even in the face of darkness, heroes could emerge.
Aisha leaned in closer, her eyes shining with anticipation. "Tell us more about the Force," she said excitedly, her voice filled with reverence.
Ripplescale smiled, realizing the impact their words had on these people. They began to explain the concept of the Force, describing its light and dark sides, the Jedi Code, and the importance of maintaining balance. The audience hung onto every word, soaking in the wisdom and philosophy that came with being a Jedi. It was a good reminder for them as well, explaining and re-explaining to confused and drunken humans exactly what the Code meant helped them clarify it for themself.
As midnight hit with no sign of the Block Party ending, Ripplescale couldn't help but reflect on the power of storytelling. It had the ability to transport people to different worlds, to ignite their imaginations, and to instill a sense of purpose. They hoped that their encounter had planted seeds of courage and compassion, just as the Jedi teachings had done for them, though they failed them at times.
With renewed determination, Ripplescale continued, knowing that their role as a Jedi was not just about fighting battles but also about inspiring others to be heroes in their own right. The Force flowed through them, guiding their path as they sought to bring Light to a world that was on the brink of the end.
PRT agents worked tirelessly to keep them at bay, their authoritative presence a barrier against the relentless onslaught of questions. Nearby, troopers meticulously combed the area, their gridsearch pattern resembling a methodical dance as they searched for missing body parts. Troopers also stood guard over the trembling Empire capes and gangsters, their vigilance a stark reminder of the chaos that had unfolded. It was like a scene out of the opening of some horror or serial killer film.
Colin should have felt a sense of relief, given the successful outcome of the battle. The Empire 88, or at least the capes that actually mattered, had been captured, all but Victor and Krieg. It was a swift and decisive battle, if a startlingly violent one.
All it had taken was Legend, the head of the Protectorate, being nearly assassinated on Colin's watch, and forced to fight a desperate battle, while the PRT and the Protectorate were distracted. At the same time Victor had been trying to kill Legend, Krieg, Purity, Night and Fog had led the Protectorate into a fight with ABB where both Oni Lee and Lung had shown up, turning it into a desperate three-way battle in the Docks, far from Captain's Hill. It had been a cunning plan for the Empire, and it had taken precious minutes for the Protectorate to disengage, minutes where Hookwolf made a good attempt at Battery's life. Minutes that gave Victor his almost-certain Kill Order, and maybe even the rest of the surviving Empire 88. Minutes that Knight Ripplescale had spent tearing through the Empire, maiming gangster and cape alike with their lightsaber.
The Case 53 in question spoke quietly with Legend and Battery, the three isolating themselves from the rest of the meadow, Legend leaning against an old oak tree while Battery stood on one foot, leaning against Knight Ripplescale. Colin liked Ripplescale. Still did, even after all this. If there was anyone who would understand the desire to let loose and de-hand some Nazis, it was him. But it was a serious breach of the Unwritten Rules, especially the maiming of the non-Parahumans by a hero, and would be viewed as an escalation by the Endslayer even if the Empire started it. The problem was that Ripplescale was a foreign cape with foreign senses of justice, how capes act, and what is viewed as acceptable levels of violence.
And hadn't that been a revelation to learn? Legend had taken aside Colin Sunday, and gave him an abbreviated history of Ripplescale, their Order and the Parahuman dynamic that had evolved on their Earth. And now the first signs of friction between cape culture, and Ripplescale's cultural mores had appeared, drastically so.
He approached the group, catching Legend's eye. Legend seemed to be filled with a sense of tired resolution, while Battery seemed to be deep in thought. Knight Ripplescale looked at him with their bright blue eyes. Colin cleared his throat, drawing their attention to him. "Knight Ripplescale, may I have a word?" Colin asked politely.
Ripplescale nodded, their feathers rustling as they shifted their saurian bulk to face him. "Of course, Armsmaster. What is on your mind?"
Colin took a moment to gather his thoughts. He needed to approach this delicately, mindful of the cultural differences at play. "I wanted to discuss the recent events during the battle," he began. "Specifically, the level of violence and maiming inflicted by you on the non-Parahumans."
Ripplescale's expression remained impassive, but Colin could see a hint of something in their eyes. "I understand that your cultural norms may differ from ours, but it is important to adhere to the Unwritten Rules. Excessive violence, especially towards non-Parahumans, can lead to unintended consequences."
"Unintended consequences greater then me and my Initiates being ambushed and assaulted with lethal force?"
"Colin paused, taking a moment to choose his words carefully. "I understand that you and your Initiates were attacked, and I empathize with the need to defend yourselves," he replied. "But it's crucial to consider the bigger picture. If we deviate too far from the Unwritten Rules, we risk escalating the violence and causing more harm in the long run."
Ripplescale's feathers seemed to stiffen for a moment. "You mean the Unwritten Rules, who by their very nature are unenforceable? The Rules this Empire flagrantly breaks? The Rules that appear to specifically not apply to civilians, given the actions of villains daily across this country? Those Rules? You expect me to adhere to them, even in the face of lethal force? Do not make me laugh, Armsmaste," they said with cool disdain.
Colin paused, considering Ripplescale's words. It was true that the Empire had a history of disregarding the Unwritten Rules, but that didn't justify a hero stooping to their level, regardless of force used against them. He needed to find common ground. Dragon told him so, often.
"I understand your frustration," Colin replied, "and I agree that the Empire's actions are concerning." Battery coughed. "However, as heroes, we must hold ourselves to a higher standard. We have a responsibility to protect everyone, including non-Parahumans, and to uphold the principles that define us."
Ripplescale's tone was straightforward, and they twisted their head as if quizzical. "And that is very admirable, but if we don't respond forcefully, they will continue to harm innocent people, as they have for years, for decades. I cannot simply turn a blind eye to their atrocities, past, present and future. Those men I fought were seeking lethal harm. I could feel their intent through the Force, and I responded with as limited force as I was willing in that moment, while addressing their very real chance of killing Battery or Legend."
Colin couldn't hold back, his voice sharp and tinged with frustration. "Limited force? You cut their hands off with a swift stroke of your blade, like clockwork. There's nine ordinary American citizens missing their hand or forearm on this hill. I understand the urgency and the need to protect your… Initiates, but we must consider the consequences of our actions. By resorting to extreme measures, we risk escalating the violence and perpetuating a cycle of retaliation."
Legend spoke up. "The crux of the matter is that for Knight Ripplescale this was appropriate and proportionate, Armsmaster, and not a bought of excessive violence. They have spent three long years in brutal internecine warfare against villains seeking to overthrow their government. What they did was the action of a soldier, fighting a war. It may not have been proper, or convenient, for us, but for them it was the correct choice, faced with battle. And I honestly think things would have been worse if they hadn't acted so swiftly. Without their quick action to cauterize my wound with their protosaber, I wouldn't have entered my Breaker state and survived the second bullet. I could very well be dead."
Colin paused, taking in Legend's words. He understood the weight of Ripplescale's experiences and the context in which they operated. The truth was, he had never faced the same level of violence and desperation that Ripplescale must have endured, despite how Brockton Bay sometimes seemed. It was easy for him to advocate for more peaceful means when he hadn't experienced the horrors of war firsthand. And today had been an outsized battle, with several dozens worth of Empire footsoldiers targeting capes with assault weaponry, as well as multiple groups of capes attacking without holding back. A truly chaotic and complex situation to fight your way out of and one that would stymie even the greatest of heroes.
But Colin believed in the power of compassion and the potential for redemption. He had seen villains turn their lives around, given the opportunity. Assault was a valued member of the Protectorate. Would he have been so eager to join up, if his arm had been removed at the elbow during his capture? Colin didn't think so.
"I understand you've faced hardships, Ripplescale," Colin said, his voice filled with empathy. "And I respect the choices you've made based on those experiences. But we must remember that our duty as heroes is not just to protect, but to inspire. We must strive to be a beacon of hope, even in the darkest times."
Ripplescale's feathers ruffled, a mix of frustration and understanding evident on their face. "Hope can only get you so far, Armsmaster," they replied, their voice tinged with resignation. "Sometimes, the threat is too great, the danger too imminent. In those moments, hope alone cannot save lives. Action must be taken, even if it means crossing certain cultural boundaries you all appear to have that I do not. I apologize that my actions caused you so much trouble, but I am not sorry for the act itself. Those men meant lethal harm for me and mine, and I handled them accordingly."
Colin took a deep breath, grappling with the complexity of the situation. He couldn't ignore the truth in Ripplescale's words, nor could he abandon his own principles. The path forward seemed uncertain.
Legend spoke again before Colin could. "I think we're all going to have to agree to disagree for the moment. It's been a long day already, and I'd rather not listen to you two go in circles. Knight Ripplescale, is Battery healed?"
"She finished about half a minute ago," they spoke.
Battery gently, then steadily, put her foot down, before hopping a couple times. "Hey, good as new! Thanks, Ripplescale."
"Then lets get going. We need to address the crowd down there, and then I'm certain Director Piggot will want to say some things of her own to Knight Ripplescale," Legend said, in an even tone.
As they made their way down Captain's Hill to the parking lot, they were met with a scene of chaos. Flashing lights from parked squad cars mixed with the light of photography, creating a disorienting visual display. The air was filled with the cacophony of shouts and cries, accompanied by the piercing sound of wailing sirens. A crowd of journalists surged at the sight of them, their cries unable to be heard.
Legend approached the barricade and paused, the shouts and cries slowly dimming as he said nothing. When the crowd simmered down, he spoke.
"Today, as myself, Battery and Knight Ripplescale attended to our lessons on Captain's Hill, the Empire 88 attempted to assassinate me." He held up his right arm, ending a little past the elbow in a smooth pale cap. "Victor crippled me in his opening shot, and Kaiser proceeded to send almost every major cape in his roster against us, with intent to harm, deadly harm."
A roar went up, as questions flooded the air. Legend waited patiently for them to die down to a rumble before he continued.
"Thanks to the swift and decisive actions of myself, Battery and Knight Ripplescale, the battle was won, but at a cost. It is not a cost any of us have to bear, but instead a cost our enemies have to bear. In pursuit of ending the lethal battle as soon as possible, Knight Ripplescale resorted to removing hands and limbs of Empire 88 members, cape and non-cape alike." He paused, swallowing. "Knight Ripplescale is a foreign cape, from a different Earth, with different rules of engagement. What they and Earth Bet consider acceptable are two different things. The Protectorate does not condone their actions, but I personally believe that without the swift action of Knight Ripplescale leading to the activation my Breaker State, I would be dead right now."
The flood of questions returns, and this time Legend begins to answer them.
David stared wildly at the tv screen. "What did I say? What did I say?!" to no one in particular, alone in his home. It was on mute and showing the latest news, footage from a news helicopter of three figures with lightsabers fighting, and dicing, gang members. "I knew he was going to carve up Brockton Bay like the freak he is," he muttered.
Cricket? Maimed. Her right hand carved in half.
Stormtiger? Amputated. Missing his right hand and part of his forearm.
Hookwolf? Dying. Partial organ failure in multiple major organs from piercing his core and lancing him through with white hot plasma. It's not expected he live the night without Panacea, who was refusing to heal him.
Rune? Perfectly safe and being treated like glass in hopes of turning and joining the Wards and letting her gain something out of this massive clusterfuck.
Crusader? Injured. Both arms broken in multiple places and his jaw swollen shut. Battery did a number on him.
Menja? Maimed. Missing fingers and toes, and criss-crossed with cauterized flesh. Again, Battery. A disturbing pattern.
Fenja? Amputated. Missing her left foot and half her right hand.
Kaiser? Amputated. Covered in 1st and 2nd degree burns and his left arm at the elbow.
Victor? MIA, and considered highly dangerous and highly motivated to seek revenge.
Othala? Caught fleeing the scene in civilian disguise, having forgotten to change out of her eyepatch.
Krieg, Night, Fog and Purity were all also MIA, having fled the Docks after they distracted the Protectorate long enough. Kill Orders for all four were being drafted, the writing on the wall. The Empire 88 had attempted to kill the head of the Protectorate in seemingly cold blood. There could be no quarter left, according to the hotheads like Tagg.
Emily couldn't believe what had unfolded in her city as she was stuck in the PRT building. Nine capes arrested and seven of them left injured in the PRT hospital. It was a chaotic mix of emotions for her - a miracle that no one died yet, a coup in successfully apprehending the dangerous capes and the majority of the Empire's frontline roster in one fell swoop, and a disaster in the level of violence displayed by the Endslayer and the Empire alike.
As the news broke, Emily knew the press would have a field day with this. The violence exhibited by the Endslayer would undoubtedly make headlines and spark debates about the limits of power and the consequences of vigilante justice. It was a story that would sell, but it also highlighted the darker side of the cape world. Especially coming from one of the Endslayers, it may even cause there to be a boost in such violence, as hapless capes attempt to do what a Case 53 soldier thought was appropriate response.
Eidolon's warning about Ripplescale's violent tendencies echoed in Emily's mind. The enigmatic hero had mentioned it during their strange phone call just days ago. But she hadn't anticipated the extent to which Ripplescale would go. The brutal act of cutting off limbs and hands, both the capes, and especially a number of the Empire's footsoldiers, showed a disturbing willingness to break or ignore the Unwritten Rules and unleash wanton violence for a hero.
Emily couldn't help but wonder what drove Ripplescale to such extremes. Was it a deep-rooted anger or a twisted sense of justice from their own Earth? Whatever the reason, it was clear that this cape posed a significant threat to both heroes and villains alike, and when she asked them why they resorted to such a level of violence, Ripplescale had the audacity to make some odd noise that apparently meant laughter, according to Joslyn when Emily asked her afterwards. She didn't like what many of the noises the cape made meant.
"You ask me why? You really do not understand? They intended to kill me, so I put them down with quickly and with sufficient force, like you do with any gangster whose blaster is bigger than their brain and means to do wanton savagery. Removing their hands or limbs was the quickest, most sufficient path forward through the chaos of battle, to end a lethal engagement with as little casualties as possible."
Exactly not what Emily wanted to hear from the cape. Oh, she understood the logic. But it was a soldier's logic and not a hero's.
"It's not your place to make that kind of decision. What you did was not justice, it was violence and cruelty, plain and simple, and has no place in our United States of America," Emily told the Case 53.
"It has no place in your United States?" A falling whistle. "I have spent time studying and listening. I have examined parts of your local hypernet and let me ask you something, Director Emily Piggot," they said, their voice calm and methodical.
"How many brilliant minds and kind hearts do their initiations have to snuff out? How many Brockton Bay capes have to be sent to Gesselschaft for brainwashing, snatched off the streets by the Empire and sentenced to hell on Earth? How many lives ruined, homes destroyed and business burnt down, dreams shattered? How many, before you stop playing your game of Cops and Robbers and start handling the villains that live in your city, Director? These men, this Empire," they hissed, their tail stiff and trembling, feathers flattened, their calmness gone, "seeks to restore Nazis to power. I have read about these Nazis. It sickens me that seventy years later, people like that are still allowed to exist, and spew their hateful views without a care, without threat. That the Empire 88 was allowed to operate with impunity for so long. What I have done today, I have no regrets. No regrets at all."
Emily bristled at the unending accusations, the disdain in the Case 53's voice by the end, the sheer emotion in their body. Oh my god, she thought half in wonder and half fright, this is a cape that truly hates me.
She snapped. "Everything I've done is to keep this city alive, and today you risk that with your blatant and flagrant violations of the Unwritten Rules. Kaiser and Stormtiger are missing arms, for God's sake, and Fenja her foot. And that's to say nothing else, like what you apparently taught Battery to do, maiming Menja like she was in a torture flick and practically killing Hookwolf. As far as the ridiculous accusation I let the Empire operate when I've spent every goddamn day of my life fighting them, with a shoe string budget and a gaggle of mad capes, I'll let that slide, once. Once. But as for the rest, what do you have to say for yourself?"
"One, I did nothing beyond communicating a fraction of the suffering that these men have imposed on others in an act of self-defense. If they did not wish to suffer consequences, they should not commit actions. Two, I acted to end a potentially lethal situation with as limited violence as I had available to me. I am a… Monk of the Path. Disarming my opponent is the kinder option, when I wield my lightsaber. It is not a kind option, but the kinder. Death comes for us all but it needed not come for anyone today. Three, I taught Battery the basics of how to defend herself in the time we've had training our blades, and if she used that it to take on a killer like Hookwolf and win, and more importantly, survive? I am proud of my student, Director."
They just didn't get it, so Emily explained in plain language. "Capes will see what you've done, how far you're willing to go, and they'll escalate. Expect permanent harm and maiming to be on the table going forward, since you've selected them as options. Every time you escalate, expect other capes to escalate in response. That's how this whole thing works. Stay in your lane and don't cause trouble? No trouble gets caused for you. Make your way into other lanes and cause trouble? The hammer comes down on you. You've just jumped three lanes, causing a pileup. And you haven't just embroiled yourself in it, you brought Legend and Battery into this mess."
Piggot took a sip of water, trying to settle her nerves, as the cape stared at her with those beady eyes. "You will be confined to base for the immediate future and escorted around the city, while the situation with the Empire settles. Victor is still missing and a danger to all of us, as shown by his attempt to kill Legend."
Knight Ripplescale let out a wheezing noise, a kind of braying. "No, I don't think that I will."
Emily raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"You will not confine me because my sense of justice and due punishment differs from your own, or because your world's bizarre cultural artifacts says my actions are uncouth and improper, yet allow the villains to do the same, unchecked."
Emily stared at Ripplescale in disbelief. "This isn't a negotiation. You've caused a massive incident and escalated violence to an unacceptable level. You will be confined to base for your own safety and to prevent further destabilization of the situation. There will be those seeking revenge and I don't need more maimed American citizens."
Ripplescale's three eyes narrowed, and their feathers ruffled. "I am not one of your subordinates to be ordered about, Director. I acted in defense of myself and others against a group that intended lethal harm. Their injuries are a consequence of their own choices and actions. I will not take responsibility."
"That's not how we handle things here," Emily snapped. "There are rules and procedures in place for a reason. You can't just maim villains as you see fit!"
"I can and I will act how I deem necessary. Your rules have allowed groups like the Empire to flourish and terrorize innocents, a revolving door inside your prison letting capes continually escape or get broken free. Well not anymore," Ripplescale countered, a tense resolution in their voice. "I will not stand idly by while such evil persists, especially if it waves a slugthrower in my face. I will handle it like a Monk. If you wish to confine me, you are welcome to try, but I warn you it will not end well."
Emily's face flushed with anger at the continued accusations. "Is that a threat?"
"Merely a statement of fact," Ripplescale said, before taking a deep breath and exhaling, looking at Emily straight in the eyes. "I am not your subordinate, nor am I beholden to your rules. I will continue to act as I see fit to protect this city and its people from those who would do them harm. It is my duty as a Monk of the Light. If that conflicts with your procedures, so be it. I will do my duty, know the Light guides my path, and be content with that which comes."
Emily took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. This situation was rapidly spiraling out of control. "Knight Ripplescale, I understand you believe you were acting in the best interests of the people and of justice by committing the actions you have today, but please try and understand. We have these rules and procedures in place for good reasons. Escalating violence like this will only lead to more violence and chaos. We need to work within the system to bring criminals to justice, not take matters into our own hands, and becoming judge, jury and executioner."
Ripplescale's tail swished back and forth as they considered Emily's words. After a moment, they spoke, their voice calm but firm. "Director Piggot, I hear your concerns. But I must respectfully disagree. Your system, your rules, have allowed groups like the Empire and the ABB to blossom for far too long. They terrorize innocents, spread hatred, and corrupt your society. Allowing them a foothold was a step too far, and allowing them to flourish like they have? You have introduced a virus into the body politic, a virus that must be hunted down, and its evil pulled up by the roots, lest it infect another generation, growing in the warm, dark hearts of man. With their leaders disabled and in chains, the Empire will collapse into squabbling tribes easily handled by your law enforcement, and I can focus on the ABB next. I am perfectly suited for this type of mission, having dealt with these types of organizations back on Coruscating Light."
Emily stared at Ripplescale in disbelief, her frustration mounting. Were they mad? "You can't just declare war on the gangs like this, single-handedly. There are consequences, ripple effects that impact the entire city. We have to consider civilian safety, economic impacts, potential power vacuums. It's not as simple as just taking out the leaders."
"Perhaps not," Ripplescale conceded. "But allowing them to continue operating with impunity is no longer an option. I will not stand idly by while evil festers and grows. If you wish to work with me to dismantle these criminal organizations that infest your city in a more... measured way, I am open to that. But make no mistake—they will be dismantled, one way or another."
The conversation between continued just as intense and lasted for an hour. During this time, they delved into several thought-provoking topics that had Emily's blood boiling. These topics ranged from the boundaries of justice and the conflicting opinions regarding the use of maiming, the greater Protectorate and PRT's failure to assist Brockton Bay in any meaningful way, to Ripplescale's bold claims about Piggot's role in perpetuating a failing status quo, and Emily's firm, loud, stance on holding Ripplescale responsible for any rise in violence against the Protectorate resulting from their actions. In short, it was an absolute shitshow and not what Emily wanted to deal with.
When the Case 53 left the room, their tail stiff in the air, Emily pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. As the Director of the ENE PRT, Emily had always believed in following proper procedures and maintaining oversight to ensure the safety and well-being of both heroes and civilians. But today's events had shaken her convictions. The Empire 88, a notorious gang with ties to white supremacy and dangerous ideologies, had crossed a line by targeting Legend, the head of the Protectorate. Their actions had left a trail of destruction and violence in their wake. Violence a hero committed.
While she understood the urgency to dismantle the Empire, Emily couldn't help but question the methods employed by Knight Ripplescale. Maiming and amputating nine gang members, and that's excluding capes, felt excessive and morally questionable. It challenged the principles she had dedicated her career to upholding. And the worst thing of all, is that Ripplescale did not even seem bothered by it. They held no remorse for the violence they did, cape or otherwise.
Emily knew the Empire needed to be stopped, but she couldn't shake off the unease that came with accepting such extreme measures, especially from a cape, and a Case 53 at that. You never knew what was going on in a Case 53 brain. They just were built differently from humans, unique, alien. It showed today with Ripplescale's obstinance to admit their violence was overzealous; it was their predatory mind. Made them violent, like Eidolon said.
But for now, she needed to set aside her doubts and focus on the immediate task at hand—ensuring the safety of the city and its inhabitants. The aftermath of the Empire's collapse would require careful handling, both in terms of public perception and the inevitable power vacuum that would arise. Whichever gang came next out of this, and there would be one, would hopefully prove to be less of a perpetual problem as the Empire had been.
The beach was empty, stony and sandy. The wind rustled the sea grass, the waves pounded the shore, and the cries of seagulls echoed across the bay as Ripplescale simply sat and listened, feeling the life in all things that surrounded them, meditating on their place. It was much easier to decompress after a bought of violence in a place like this, than in the stark mediation room aboard a Venator. Jax had taken to filling them with plantlife but it wasn't enough.
They had been angry today. Angry that those men almost killed their Initiates. Would have. Keith and Joslyn only survived today because of the Force, and because they trusted the Force. And because Ripplescale had remembered that they weren't children and would sometimes need lightsaber blades to do what they were made to do. Because for all a lightsaber was a tool, it was a weapon first. They had done the right think, and their initiates had done the right thing, because they had survived.
They were angry Piggot but really, they were angry at Cauldron. The Empire 88 would never exist in a world without the ridiculous Parahuman Feudalism 'experiment', and or if they did, they wouldn't be near as much trouble as they were. This was their fault, one way or another, and in the end, Ripplescale would like to think they'll make them pay for almost costing them the only two other Force Sensitives on the planet.
They had not expected the PRT to be so… upset with their actions. It's possible that they had been overly aggressive in their determination to end the battle the Empire 88 had started, but the Clone War had ingrained in them the understanding that the longer a skirmish persisted, the more swiftly death approached. And losing their Initiates was never going to be an option for Ripplescale.
Men armed with lethal weaponry, unable to be easily restrained or put down by stun blasts or some other form of less-lethal weaponry, in a chaotic battlefield with multiple 'Sith' meant resorting to Shii-Cho in its most potent form and disarming the opponent with speed and force. It was simply what was done, how a Jedi acted. They didn't take enjoyment out of the violence, nor satisfaction, much, like the Director seemed to think. It was a logical choice. If the enemy is handless, they cannot operate their weaponry and potentially kill someone.
These Unwritten Rules… They spat on the beach, a flicker of anger in their heart. A stricture surely invented by Cauldron to twist and turn this world into a parody of justice, where villains got to go home at the end of the day and put their masks up after committing all kinds of crimes. The Rules were strictly upheld by heroes, while villains showed as little regard for them as they could get away with, causing the heroes to be handicapped in their ability to deliver justice, thinking it somehow more moral to let villains act with impunity.
Then they sighed and let go of the anger. There were many things to be angry at Cauldron about, they did not need to make one up. Instead, they began focusing on their emotions, examining them as one would precious jewels, then casting them into the ocean of the Force.
Sometime later, their thoughts somewhat settled as the sun cast the scene in brilliant orange, an older gentleman came and sat beside them. He had dark skin and a bushy white beard, a cream knit sweater and dark pants, and a kind smile. He felt curious and happy in the Force.
"I'm surprised to see you so lonely," he said. "Shouldn't you be out celebrating, big guy?"
"Why do you say that?" Ripplescale asked the man, curiously.
"The Empire is dead, my scaley man. You taught Kaiser a lesson he ain't ever going to forget, and all his little Nazi friends too. They're shouting your name in the hood, and Little Japan, Koreatown, and all the enclaves in Brockton Bay. You're a hero, man. Heroes shouldn't be sitting alone on the beach, sulking. They need to be amongst the people, man, partying."
They considered the man's words. Perhaps a visit to unfamiliar parts of the city would be best, something to lift their mood and see the direct results of their actions, something to get the bitter taste of argument out of their mouth. "How does one get to this 'Hood' or 'Little Japan'?"
The man grinned. "Ron Hilcrest," he said, putting out a hand. "And I'll be more than glad to take you to the Block Party in the Hood. It's going to be a wild one tonight. Everybody's going to be out."
They shook it and said, "Ripplescale Redfeather, Monk of the Light."
Fitting into his vehicle was a bit of a hassle, and uncomfortable but Ripplescale made it work. When they parked, they could already hear pounding music and shouts, which grew louder as they walked down the street with Ron, people milling in the streets and calling out to them as they passed, the crowd parting around them.
"Is that him?!"
"Them, idiot," another said, punching the first.
"Holy shit, the Endslayer's here?!"
"DEATH TO THE EMPIRE! LONG LIVE KNIGHT RIPPLESCALE! WOOOOOOOOH!" screamed one man without a shirt on, shaking his belly back and forth, already intoxicated.
So on and so forth, the cries came out over the sound of music and the crowd, as Ron led them through the party. Smoke smelling of strange citrus and pine filled the air, and beverages were in every hand. People passed what looked like fat deathsticks with that pungent smoke, laughing and cheering. They could feel the burgeoning hope, the joy and the relief of these people. Many of them were dark in their pigmentation, a target of the Empire, and what Ripplescale had done brought them much needed relief.
For hours they shook hands, spoke with people, listened to their stories, and, of course, ate wonderful food cooked in the street or in open homes and drank cheap but refreshing beverages called 'beer'. It was difficult listening to stories of the crimes of the Empire 88, knowing they were a microcosm of the pain and suffering surely being experienced not only by Ripplescale's own people but many non-humanoid aliens in the Corsuca Galaxy. It was also hard, knowing that all this could have been prevented if Cauldron hadn't wanted to make this city into a testbed for their ridiculous notions. But these were hopeful, happy, joyful people, and so Ripplescale did not let dark emotions overwhelm them, instead taking small moments to release them into the Force, focusing on the joy of connection.
People spoke about everything and anything with them, they spoke about their hopes and dreams, their fears, their desires and wants. They spoke about family and friends lost to the Empire, about their favorite homegrown capes who seemingly disappeared, about business burnt and lives wrecked. But they also spoke about their hopes for the future, and their dreams they'd never given up, about their desires for change, for a better Brockton Bay, a desire that they felt could see fruition now with the Empire a shambling corpse. They spoke about their fears, irrational and rational, of Endbringers coming or the Butcher returning or even, some whispered, the Slaughterhouse Nine making their way back. And throughout it all, Ripplescale spoke and offered what advice they could, or simply listened when that was needed, letting their instincts guide them as well as memories of doing such a thing, years before, when they were a young Knight and rescued a town from a group of long-term violent gang-squatters that had committed crimes with impunity. They were much worse at it then, they thought amusedly.
So when they found themselves cornered by a young woman, a streak of purple in her hair, begging to be a Padawan, they didn't immediately say no, intrigued by her apparent knowledge of their true nature.
"Please? I've watched the footage of Captain's Hill, and its like swoosh, zoom, zwee, you're dancing about tearing through those fuckin' Nazi's like they're paper. That's what I want, I want to be like that, so graceful and fast that they can't handle me."
Ripplescale sighed. "Young one, I cannot begin to tell you how wrong of a way to approach this that is. Violence should not be cherished or desired, but meted out with as little passion as possible. Something I myself should focus on better. There is far more to being what I am then wielding a lightsaber." They paused and let out a whistling sigh. "Something I need to remember, as well."
The girl frowned, "But the lightsaber is the best part about being a Jedi, it's like a sword but cooler! I mean, I like the Force, and telekinesis would be nice, but really, it's the laser sword."
"And that, young one, is why I won't be teaching you. Your desire will lead you down dangerous and murky paths. The Force is not a toy, or just a tool, it is something far more encompassing and beautiful. And when twisted to the wrong ends, disastrous."
The girl grinned at them. "You said it. You said the Force. You really are a Jedi! They were right!" She did a little fist pump.
They glanced around, and found only a few others listening in, and sighed. "Yes. Yes, I am a Jedi Knight of the Galactic Republic." They waited for laughter, and amusement, and got some but none from the girl, surprisingly. Instead, she radiated satisfaction and glee.
"I'm Aisha, by the way. I read all the rumors on PHO, and I've seen all the videos of you and Legend and Battery, and I'm a Truther! This is so cool," she gushed rapidly, "I have so many questions, like why are you here? Did you mean to or was it an accident? What's the last thing you were doing, before you fought the Simurgh? Did you know—"
They held up a clawed hand, and she stopped. "Young Aisha, please, one question at a time. And let me ask you this, what is a 'Truther'?"
"Oh, well, you see, on PHO there's two camps of thought about you and your powers and the whole 'Jedi' rumors. There's the Truthers and the Fakers. Truthers think, well, you're the real thing. There's other Earths out there, billions of them scientists think, so why not other galaxies, far far away? And dimensional travel is real, so a lot of things are possible. Fakers think it's all fake, for a variety of reasons. Some think that its all a ploy to get people to distrust the Endslayer, while others think it is some cry for attention, and so on and so forth. Their reasons are many. But yeah… I'm a Truther! And I was right! Brian is going to eat crow."
"There are rumors about me?" they asked, confused. They had only told a very few people they were a Jedi Knight before their experience with Amy told them to keep it quiet.
"Yeah, some Australian cape, Mauve-something? Anyway, she posted with her official account that you might be a Jedi Knight, including evidence, and that started the ball rolling and people started coming out of the woodwork, capes who witnessed you in Canberra doing impossible things like reacting before things happen, and out-TKing the freaking Simurgh, and of course all your daily meditations and martial arts and you're a crazy telekinetic. It all fits and got people thinking. When Panacea came out as a Truther yesterday, it almost broke PHO."
They really need to check the local hypernet more often, if this was happening. What's the point of pretending to be a Monk of the Path, if a good chunk of the world thinks they're a Jedi? They'll need to consult with Keith about their path forward. They would much rather fully live their truth and be accepted.
"Amy came to my defense?" they asked, feeling a bit of pride. They should really visit the Dallons again, and see if there wasn't anything they could do for the girl. She was such a little bundle of misery that really needed a friend and Ripplescale hadn't even checked back in with her. They resolved to do so as soon as possible.
"Yeah, said you don't have any human DNA, that you didn't evolve on Earth, and that she believes you're a Jedi Knight. Like I said, it almost broke PHO. People went nuts, the thread had to be locked because of the Faker flame wars that started badmouthing Panacea. Like, holy crap! Badmouthing Panacea? Now, are you going to answer my questions?"
"I am not sure why I am here," they lied, "but the Force will guide me where I need to be. I did not mean to come here, and the last thing I remember," they paused and took a deep breath, "was Order 66."
The glee that had been bright and cheery curdled and crumbled.
"You died?" Aisha asked, a tinge of mournfulness in her tone.
"I almost died, until I was sent here," they clarified. "I was close to becoming one in the Force when something snatched me and brought me here."
"And then you went on to kill an Endbringer…" Aisha said with wide eyes, considering the circumstance. "Woah. You're freaking bad-ass, Knight Ripplescale! Like, to go from that to Canberra, and win? Hardcore. I couldn't do it. I'd probably cry my butt off."
"Thank you, I suppose," they sighed. That day had been a long one.
"You really think you're a Jedi," stated one of the men who'd been listening to them talk.
"I am," they nodded. "It may seem difficult to believe but—"
The man waved him off, slightly slurring as he said, "Superheroesh were stuck in comic books until the 80s, whose to say Jedi won't find themselves popping out of the shinematic woodwork now? It may be a more than a bit ridiculoush, but so was Scion, a naked golden man running around saving kittens and stopping volcanoes like some kind of retarded Shuperman. Perhaps you're the Scion of a new era," he mused, eyeing them with a slightly glazed look. Others around him seemed intrigued by the notion, looking at Ripplescale with new eyes.
They hoped to be nothing like Scion, the avatar of the golden worm, but in the most barest of ways, doing good and shaping the world positively.
"Perhaps," they replied. "Perhaps I am a sign of something new," Ripplescale conceded.
"If you're a Jedi, what's Coruscant like?" asked another, younger man, maybe twenty with curly dark hair and a grin, like he was catching Ripplescale out in a trap.
"Coruscant, more than anything else," they began, "is loud. Loud in the Force, and loud audibly, the wind endlessly rushing as the Climate Controllers kept Corsuscant cool and the endless traffic hummed. Over a trillion beings live on Coruscant, and the gleaming surface of near-orbital towers where the Jedi Temple resides is just the tip of the iceberg." They continued, waxing lyrical about sunrises and sunsets, about the stark urban beauty, and the streams of aerial traffic like arteries, and all sorts of aspects of upper Coruscanti life.
Answering that opened a floodgate of questions, from Aisha, and the young man, Timmy, and other folks listening in around them that joined, and as the night progressed Ripplescale found themselves telling tales of the Corsuca Galaxy to curious minds, sharing stories of battles fought on distant planets, the intricate politics of the Galactic Senate, and the grandeur of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Aisha and the others were enthralled, hanging onto every word as Ripplescale painted vivid pictures with their descriptions.
As the night wore on, the atmosphere shifted from amusement and doubt to awe and excitement. Ripplescale's presence, their connection to the Force, and their tales of adventure had captivated all who heard, even if they were uncertain how true it was. It was as if a spark of hope had been ignited in their hearts, reminding them that even in the face of darkness, heroes could emerge.
Aisha leaned in closer, her eyes shining with anticipation. "Tell us more about the Force," she said excitedly, her voice filled with reverence.
Ripplescale smiled, realizing the impact their words had on these people. They began to explain the concept of the Force, describing its light and dark sides, the Jedi Code, and the importance of maintaining balance. The audience hung onto every word, soaking in the wisdom and philosophy that came with being a Jedi. It was a good reminder for them as well, explaining and re-explaining to confused and drunken humans exactly what the Code meant helped them clarify it for themself.
As midnight hit with no sign of the Block Party ending, Ripplescale couldn't help but reflect on the power of storytelling. It had the ability to transport people to different worlds, to ignite their imaginations, and to instill a sense of purpose. They hoped that their encounter had planted seeds of courage and compassion, just as the Jedi teachings had done for them, though they failed them at times.
With renewed determination, Ripplescale continued, knowing that their role as a Jedi was not just about fighting battles but also about inspiring others to be heroes in their own right. The Force flowed through them, guiding their path as they sought to bring Light to a world that was on the brink of the end.
impia
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Love that! I'm glad all the arguments with the higher-ups about use of force (heh) against nazis were followed up with meeting all the people just celebrating that they don't have to live in fear of being blenderized by Hookwolf.
(It is especially silly to insist that all the other jackboots with guns were somehow a completely different type of opponent than Victor.)
Not surprised the Jedi stuff leaked anyway, it was a pretty paper-thin cover
(It is especially silly to insist that all the other jackboots with guns were somehow a completely different type of opponent than Victor.)
Not surprised the Jedi stuff leaked anyway, it was a pretty paper-thin cover
Adullahan
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The Triumvirate: No one will believe a Jedi came to save usLove that! I'm glad all the arguments with the higher-ups about use of force (heh) against nazis were followed up with meeting all the people just celebrating that they don't have to live in fear of being blenderized by Hookwolf.
(It is especially silly to insist that all the other jackboots with guns were somehow a completely different type of opponent than Victor.)
Not surprised the Jedi stuff leaked anyway, it was a pretty paper-thin cover
The general populace: Telekinesis? A laser sword? That dudes a fucking Jedi!
After writing the arguments and the previous chapter, I needed Ripplescale to have something good happen to them, and like, obviously there are going to be parties! The Empire went and impaled itself on a lightsaber, you gotta celebrate that!
I had to cut a part that had Brian walking up and listening to a Clone Wars battle, because it was pretty gratuitous and unnecessary, and turned maudlin, which was not the vibe our jedi needed for the night, getting all heartsick about their Captain.
impia
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The network cut the part of the interview where Ripplescale waved weirdly at the camera while saying, "This definitely isn't Star Wars with the serial numbers filled off. Don't worry about it. It's a coincidence. This part of the interview is normal."
Not enough punchy sensationalism in that segment, since it was so normal, not really fitting for the interview with the awesome Endslayer alien
ReignBloodark
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Thank cauldron for that. They literally brainwashed the entire world with their idiotic propaganda for the sake of their so called "greater good". Look at their hypocrisy, they are willing to condemn countless innocent civilian to death and torture disguised as experiment while someone committing self defense is proclaimed is immoral and evil. What a fcking joke.
Canon proved they were retarded and wrong, literally relying on plot armor named Taylor to achieve their goal.
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Adullahan
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The day needs to be rougher for Ripplescale to even think about killing. They're a Jedi, and they have a lot of options before it comes down to that.