෴Raz෴

෴Midnight෴

෴Hex෴

෴Nicolette෴

෴Fidel෴

෴Jim Hunter෴

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

Do We Even Have a Plan?

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

Raz slipped through the double-doored man-trap and took in the room. Midnight was leaning forward on a table, resting his head on his folded arms. Everyone else was at the far end of the room, clustered around a table in what looked like animated conversation. What stood out to him immediately was the near total lack of sound coming from that end of the large room. A slight shimmer in the air caught his eye. A nearly invisible wavy pattern in the air near the soft dividing line between the front of the room, the multipurpose showroom, and the rear workshop area. Electrosense showed him a semi opaque surface where the shimmer was. Regular vision and biosense could see through it just fine. Hex and the new guy, Jim, were strapping something to Fidel, as Brock and Nicolette worked on a large device of some kind with a pair of heavy straps attached to it.

So that shimmer is some kind of privacy screen, I guess. Unless it’s got a physical presence. Kind of tempted to toss a pencil at it and find out.

He sat down across from Midnight. “How long till you’re ready?”

The older man raised his head to look at Raz, then frowned. “I’m ready now. How long till you’re ready?”

Raz shrugged, still keenly aware of, and enjoying, the feeling of the movement along his arms and shoulders as the armor silently articulated with his movements.

“I’m good as soon as you are. I’m still hoping you have more information for me, or, I don’t know, a plan. Maybe I’m assuming too much, do we even have a plan?”

For a long moment, Midnight didn’t reply, just watched a screen across the room as it scrolled world news headlines under a story about a new UN resolution Raz hadn’t heard of. “So, what was your proposition?” Midnight asked.

Raz scowled. “No. Let’s not do that. We can come back to my proposition after you tell me the plan. You were freaking out at the thought of me taking a detour to help Sia, and now it feels like you’re dragging your feet. So what changed? Why aren’t we leaving already?”

So, I’m full on Catalyst, full on Capacity, and a whole bag full of Catalyst in reserve. I’m guessing you’ll say we should wait, but I can’t help but think this might be the last chance to get any tools for this fight.

[All the notes imply that the last thing you want to do before a serious fight is unlock new abilities, even passives and energy only changes are still considered a risk.]

That sucks, but the way Midnight’s reacting to the thought of fighting this guy, I think it’s about as serious as it can get. If you say it’s a bad call, we’ll go with that. I won’t even ask why you didn’t warn me about this in the past.

[If I told you every possible warning before it was relevant, that would be all we ever did. This is the only time we’ve considered spending Catalyst when we know for certain that we’re going into combat, so I’m telling you now.]

Fair enough.

Midnight still hadn’t answered. While the older man watched the screen, Raz grabbed a clean bowl and took a moment to dissolve several lumps of Catalyst with his blood into the thick golden fluid. He’d nearly filled the small metal catalyst flask when Midnight’s gaze snapped to focus and looked at the flask in his hand. “Where did you get that?” Midnight demanded.

Raz wiped the excess onto his forearm, twisted the cap to seal it and held it up. “This? I got it from that same guy I was telling you about. He looked like you but older, had your abilities but was better than you at using them. I forgot to mention the stack of documents written on metal wasn’t the only thing he left me with. He left me with this little flask and a canteen. I don’t have the canteen anymore. I’ve looked it over. It’s just a stainless steel flask.”

Midnight held out his hand in a wordless request. Raz handed it over without comment.

Knowing I have the whole bag of Catalyst makes it a lot easier to hand that over without worrying too much about it.

Midnight activated an ability. To Raz’s gaze, a thin invisible flow of something, some kind of energy flowed from Midnight, through the flask, then back into him.

A moment later he handed the flask back to Raz. “Something else I made, that I didn’t make. I don’t know what to think. I’m starting to think there’s an older me running around that I’ve never met or even heard of. I—I’m not sure what I should think, or do, about that.”

“So do you think it’s you, or another version of you, like… well, us?” Raz asked

Midnight didn’t respond, just continued to look at the flask. While he waited, Raz pulled up the HUD’s visual display and started sketching the loops that Midnight had described.

“So if he’s visibly older than you, that means—” Raz started.

“He’s from a loop further back than any I’ve ever managed.” Midnight finished.

They nodded at each other. “And if he’s from a further back loop, he’s been here every time, so why—” Raz started.

Midnight nodded emphatically. “Exactly! If he—or I, have been here every time, why am I only now hearing about him now?”

A ghost of a smile chased off by a frown crossed Raz’s face. “That seems obvious to me. You said it yourself. This time around is very different from usual, right?”

“Well of course you would think that. It would make this all about you.” Midnight scoffed.

“Would it? The way I see it, the past ten years, most of my adult life, is all fallout from your actions, your arrival. That’s hardly all about me.” Raz countered.

Midnight raised his hands in conciliation and nodded. “You have a point.”

Raz glanced down at his rough scribbles on the imaginary sketch pad. “What I don’t get is how this is possible. You said your earlier self disappears when you catch up to the later loops. Wouldn't that mean you should have disappeared when he caught up with your arrival? Not that I can claim to understand how any of this works. But you were fairly clear on that.”

Midnight nodded. ”I’m wondering that myself. In all this time, I have never once met myself. I mean, I’ve met you lots of times. Hell, I think we’ve crossed paths in every single loop, and worked together in a lot of the past loops,” he scratched at his chin, then looked at Raz’s full beard and armor, “Of course, those times we had a very different kind of working relationship,” he leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling, “But meeting myself? I’m not sure that’s possible. I’m a little worried about what might happen if we did meet. How much older di—”

Raz cut him off. “You know, this is all very fascinating, but we’re losing track of what’s important. We need to go get my mom out of there, and to do that, we need a strategy.”

Midnight rolled his eyes. “Look, this fight won't be like those games you used to play. There’s no ‘boss strat’ for Mercator. Do you get that?!”

The tightly packed core of rage inside had been poked and prodded one too many times. It uncoiled, and Raz no longer had the will to keep it completely under control. He’d gotten to his feet before he realized he was moving.

“We go in, hit him hard, don’t get in each other’s way, and...” Midnight trailed off at the sight of Raz’s face, twisted in fury as the air around him became charged with energy.

Raz spoke, his voice low, even as his words seemed to rumble and echo in the room. “I am trying. I am doing everything I can to save this for the enemy. I need you to stop,” the word struck the room like the beat of a tympani, echoing against the walls, and even drawing the attention of those past the privacy screen, “talking down to me. I’m not your boy, I’m not your sidekick.”

Bit by bit, Raz brought the rage under his control again. Fighting against his drive to battle felt draining, and unnatural. With a final effort of will he took his seat again.

“So, do you have a plan or not?” he grated out.

Midnight nodded. “Yeah, but it's more a series of goals and realities to keep in mind than a detailed plan. You’re going to need to watch your own back. Whichever of us he focuses on, the other needs to slip away from the fight and get Adele.”

Raz nodded. “That makes sense. Does he have any direct weaknesses?”

Midnight shook his head. “Nothing I haven’t mentioned. As a general rule, the Megiror, or at least Mercator himself, doesn’t seem to have much grasp on game theory, or strategy,” he shrugged dismissively, “But that won't matter. In close tactical combat he’s more than capable.”

“So you get in close and I hit him from range?”

Midnight nodded slightly. “Sort of. I don’t want to be too close either, and there isn’t that much range to be had. He’s big, fast and very strong,” he looked Raz over, “I saw you lifting those, uh, subterradente. If that’s all the strength you have, you absolutely cannot afford to come into melee range with him. He could tear you limb from limb.”

“Yeah, I don’t feel like getting killed, I’ll keep it a ranged fight. Anything else you can tell me?” Raz asked.

“Unless you want me to start telling you about the Megiror as a whole, I’m out of things to tell you. Usually when I’ve killed him, I start the fight with a sucker punch. This time he surprised me, and I barely made it out alive,” he scratched at his chin again, “Actually, this is something I can and should tell you. I know you won't like hearing this, but here’s my priority list. Number one, I have to survive. If I die, this is all over. Sorry, that's just how it is. Number two, I want to get Adele out of there. Your safety is third on the list, barely above killing Mercator,” he threw up his hands in mock supplication, “I know, I’m terrible, but that’s the truth. If you can’t accept that, tell me now so I can look for someone else.”

Raz bit back the rage inside for several long seconds before he trusted himself to reply. “Bullshit. You know damn well I’m all in. That's my mother we’re talking about,” the acoustics in the room abruptly changed, letting Raz know the privacy screen was down. “I am going. Don’t pretend like you’re offering me some kind of last minute opportunity to bail out. In fact, I’m going whether or not you are.”

He looked up at the others across the room. “I see you’ve taken down the curtain, or whatever you call it. Brock, could you send me to Mercator if he changed his mind?” Raz pointed at Midnight.

Brock nodded cautiously. “Jah, but not all the vay. I can get you vithin a few kilometers. If vhat I hear about this creature is true, then opening a gate near him vould be foolhardy.”

Hex spoke up, her voice sounded torn between good cheer and worry. “I hope it doesn’t come to that, but if you do have to hike in, these might help,” she held up a pair of steel toed utility boots, “I got the kind you like.”

She vanished and instantly appeared at his feet, “Should have gotten you socks while I was at it. Whoops.”

With loving care, she gave all her focus to placing the boots on his feet. Her cool fingers traced across each foot before she slipped his feet into the boots and tied them up into a secure hiker’s knot. She looked up at him with an enigmatic smile before walking her hands and body up his legs and then pulling him in for a hard kiss.

“For luck, and you better come back to me!” she whispered urgently in his ear.

He swallowed, and nodded.

Midnight rolled his eyes at the whole affair. “Dramatic much? Of course I’m going. You’re the one who said I’m only at half a tank.”

Hex immediately stretched out her hand. “Do that thing like you did that night when you were helping Darby. Take my energy.”

Midnight’s somber expression went even more serious. “No, that would be pointless. No offense, but taking you and all your aspects out of commission for a drop of energy in my bucket just isn’t a good trade.”

Oh snap. I could fill his energy reserve up a lot faster with transfuse, right?

[Yes, transfuse and siphon remain at rank 2, and thus lose approximately 33% energy in the transmission, but having observed how slowly he regains energy, I see no reason why you shouldn’t try it.]

“So you can drain energy and take it for yourself?” Raz interjected.

Midnight nodded. “I can, but it’s not all that helpful. The target can’t be hostile to me, and most people are thrown for a loop, or totally unable to use their abilities for a while after I do it. Worst of all, I don’t have the capacity to improve the ability, so it barely gives me any energy. So, it’s like taking someone on my team out of the fight, for almost no benefit. Of course, it only works on someone with an ability in the first place.”

Midnight shook his head slightly and sighed, “You know, you asked once what advice I’d give you about ability paths. I know you didn’t like my answer then, so I’ve thought about it since. Here’s my advice for you, assuming it’s not too late,” he looked Raz in the eye with an intent gaze, “Don’t spread yourself too thin. You should master, or least make significant progress in the chains you choose, before starting other chains. I still won't tell you what chains to pick, and honestly, it seems like you’re doing fine there. Just take my advice and don’t ignore any warnings about it costing total Capacity to unlock other chains early.”

It was with gratitude and a sense of relief that Raz thought of the many times Bee had told him he could hurry things along or circumvent rules by spending Capacity, and also strongly advised against it.

[You’re welcome.]

Fidel came over and sat down next to Raz. He wore a heavy belt with a pair of mounting hooks in the back, and several cameras were strapped to his body.

Raz looked him over. “So.... you planning to get into livestreaming extreme sports or something? That’s a lot of cameras.”

Fidel smiled and nodded, but before he could formulate a response, Brock jumped in. “Nein!” He pointed at the large device with straps on it. “That is a lot of cameras.”

Everyone but Raz and Midnight nodded in emphatic agreement.

“So, what's going on then?” Raz ventured.

Hex sat down on his lap. “Fidel is going with you,” she saw Raz start to smile even as Midnight frowned and hurried to continue, “Not as a combatant. We need to know what we’re dealing with, and getting video and whatever we can from that sensor package is the best way we can do it. Besides,” she looked at Midnight meaningfully, “You’ve made it clear how dangerous Mercator is, so the best chance has to be when he’s distracted with you two double teaming him.”

Midnight frowned, then gradually the lines in his face smoothed out. “That–is a good idea. I hope it all goes well, but getting video of what happens could be valuable. I’ll want a copy I can carry with me when you’re done.”

She nodded. “No problem, although we still need to talk about why you want that.”

Raz snorted. “Obviously, he wants it because win or lose, this is just another loop to him. He’s still assuming that he’ll be bailing out of all this shortly.”

Midnight shrugged. “I can’t afford to let myself die. If that happens, the world loses.”

Fidel frowned. “Have heard this from others. ‘I am too important to die!’ is something said by many people who have since died. No one truly feel they are expendable.”

Brock chuckled, “Jah, er hat recht. If you run away, what happens to all that has happened?”

Midnight threw up his hands in surrender. “How about we save that discussion until after we go fight the scary monster?”

His evasion couldn’t have been more obvious to Raz, but he decided to let it go until they could talk about it alone. He looked over at Brock.

“So, do you want me to wear a body camera? I will, but I should warn you I have no idea if electronics can survive me while I’m fighting.”

Yes Bee, I know I can mark it with friendly fire. I’m just managing expectations.

Brock looked at him with a surprised smile. “Vould you? Having a direct angle vould be wery helpful!”

Raz fingered the dark grey armor jumpsuit and his gauntlets and vambraces. “It’d be pretty ungrateful of me to worry about strapping on a camera after all your generosity.”

Brock gestured for Raz to follow, and hurried over and began sorting through a pile of straps and cameras. While he looked for the right device, he pointed to an odd looking double headed scepter, with three protrusions like sharp talons forming a small trident on each side.

“Take that. You may need a weapon.”

Raz looked at it with mixed feelings.

His stuff seems to be pretty amazing, but what the heck would I even do with this? I don’t want to get into melee range with something as big as Midnight describes this thing.

“Um, thanks, but I—”

Brock turned away from the cameras and looked at him with furrowed brows. “I am not asking. You must accept it. I made it for you, and you alone. It carries your sturm und kraft. Perhaps later you may vear it vith the girdle.” He pointed at the thick belt made of some kind of leather and metal, with the large silly looking round buckle.

Ok then, no pressure to accept it or anything. Ugh, that belt is going to look ridiculous. I mean girdle… because calling it a girdle totally makes it better. Sturm und kraft, what is that, come on highschool German class, storm and power?

“Thanks then. I’ll give it a try.”

Raz put the belt on, and immediately felt it begin to draw hungrily at his energy stores and regeneration. He felt Bee kick him into a fast energy regeneration to keep up with the belt girdle’s hungry draw. He pulled it back off and felt the draw ease and then cease.

Maybe later when I have time to sit around being a human battery charger, but that thing is like a vacuum sucking me dry. No thanks.

“When you are ready for it, it vill give you kraft und durchbruch. Just as the armor gives you zähigkeit und stärke.”

Raz held up a hand in an attempt to slow the shorter man down. “So, yeah, I took one semester of German in highschool. I remember it pretty well, but I never heard those words before. What is that in English?”

Brock held up a pair of body cams triumphantly. “Kraft is power. Durchbruch is breakthrough, or penetration,” he slowed down and scratched at his beard in thought, “ Zähigkeit and stärke are–toughness, or fortitude, and weight or impact.”

He strapped four cameras across Raz’s chest. Each strap bore a front and a rear facing camera. To Raz’s questioning look as he strapped the second pair on, he just muttered, “just in case.”

Raz glanced over his shoulder and confirmed they were alone on that end of the building. He kept his voice low. “I hate to sound ungracious in the face of your sudden change of heart, but why are you suddenly so generous? This feels like a big change from how our first meeting went.”

Brock put on an expression Raz would have called a smile, but it had far too much fear and desolation. The broadly built short man took Raz’s gauntleted hand in both of his. “Ve met poorly. This I know. Then you vere simply another customer, perhaps even one with an unsavory past. Now I also know that vithout you, there is no hope for us,” he glanced over at Midnight with a disappointed sigh, “Once, I put faith in him. Now I fear he is too broken. He feels too much fear for the sake of others. A leader who cannot accept any loss is one who cannot take any risk. More to the point, I owe a great debt to you. As I see him falter and you rise, I know that anything I can do to help you is cheap at twice the cost.”

Raz glanced around the room with avarice. “Does that mean you’ll give Hex that rifle? She thinks it’s pretty cool. Or what about that hammer?”

Brock gave him a wry smile. “She said you vould say that. Das gewehr, eh, the veapon is hers. As for the hammer, you are more than velcome to try.” he said with an ill-disguised smirk that reminded Raz of more than a few fratboys playing practical jokes.

Raz couched down next to the hammer that lay at the center of a deep divot in the steel plate flooring. As he reached for it, Brock gently kicked his hand away.

“Not right now! As much funny as it will be to see you collapse and womit all over yourself, you are on a timetable, are you not?”

Raz nodded and stood up.

So is it just his personal practical joke, or something else?

Without the time to consider it, he turned his attention to the last object. The double-headed scepter. He reached for it, then hesitated and looked at Brock. “What about this one? Is this one going to make me collapse and vomit?”

The smaller man shook his head vehemently. “Nein, this one also hungers greatly, but it will not feast upon you like that will,” he pointed at the hammer.

Feast upon me. I don’t like the sound of that.

Raz gingerly picked up the scepter. The draw on his reserves was considerable, but nothing like the ravenous hunger of the girdle.

“Thanks, I don’t suppose you have something more like a stick or a club? I’ve got a little training in that area.”

Let’s ignore that it’s very recent training, with no actual combat experience. Of course, it sounds like if I’m reduced to fighting with hand weapons I’m already dead.

Brock nodded and smiled. “This veapon vill be vhat you need of it. Mit oder ohne blitz.” He pantomimed pulling it apart with both hands.

Raz looked at him dubiously and pulled on both ends of the weapon. Nothing happened. He pulled harder, grunting with effort.

Brock rolled his eyes. “You have to vant it! Do you vant it to extend?”

Raz visualized what he wanted and tried one more time. The double-headed scepter smoothly extended out into a shaft the right length for a war club. Now it had one end with the three taloned trident. clasped together into a ribbed club head, a long knurled shaft, and the other end sported a three bladed dagger point, the spear tip and blunt edges more suited to stabbing than cutting.

He stepped back from Brock and gave the weapon a few experimental swings, quickly falling into one of the many procedural memories he’d stored while being trained in the use of the war club.

“I hope I don’t need it, but this will do nicely. Thanks.”

Brock nodded, his expression grave. “You are velcome. I hope it is enough.”

Why is everyone else so much more worried than me? I’m starting to think Midnight has told everyone else the real truth and given me the sugarcoated version.

He collapsed the club back down to the short two ended scepter and tucked it into the pocket outside his thigh armor plate. He was almost back to Hex when a thought occurred to him. “Hey Brock, how do I turn these on?”

“They are already on. They vill record for forty-eight hours.” The short hairy man replied.

Well, this’ll be over by then one way or another.

He sat down next to Hex and across from Midnight. With slightly exaggerated care, he willed one gauntlet to collapse down to the thick bracelet and watched with glee as it did just that in the space of a single heartbeat.

I got gladiator space armor! That is so cool.

Once the vambrace had collapsed into the torc below his biceps, he extended his bare hand. “We were talking about this a minute ago. Go ahead, take what energy you can.”

Midnight waved him away. “It’s not worth it. Thanks, but give me a few more minutes and I’ll be ready.”

Raz reached into his pocket and took hold of the scepter before pumping up his energy regen to the highest level he’d managed, bringing in power through every inch of his skin. The armor suit, glove and vambraces quickly began to emit the almost subliminal hum indicating they were fully charged. The scepter/trident/club/dagger thing drank in the excess energy like dry sand pulling in water. It was soon clear that the scepter was meant to work with the grip system Brock seemed to favor. As the weapon filled with energy, he felt a pattern of ridges raise from the knurling that matched the pattern of subtle notches in the gloves. That keyed pattern would make the glove and weapon practically become one while he held it, but also would have made the weapon downright uncomfortable to wield bare handed.

While he did this, he watched Fidel chat with Brock, and eventually add a few more items to the large pack. While Fidel and Brock chatted, Hex and Jim were talking about his going back to Africa to do something. Jim seemed eager to do it, Hex seemed reluctant to send him into danger.

Exactly two minutes later, he put his hand out to Midnight once again. “Ok, it’s been two minutes. You’re still only at 58%. Let me see what I can do for you.

If this works as well as I hope, I’ll be mad at myself for not thinking of it earlier.

[Try to avoid that. Self-directed anger is the hardest to keep from spinning toward Berzerk.]

That’s for sure. I’ll try.

Midnight clasped his hand. They each maintained a firm grip as Raz began to analyze his other self while sending energy into him. Within seconds, he’d let go of the weapon to devote all his energy regen to the task. Then he watched his energy plummet nearly as fast as using Spark Gap.

When his energy dropped into the teens, he let go and focussed on regeneration. “Ok, you have a deep well.” Raz said, while panting with an exertion more metaphysical than physical. “You said you felt full at around 50%. Now you’re up to 81%. How do you feel?”

Midnight got to his feet and stood up straight. Raz noticed the forward hunch was gone. This time he stood fully erect, with his shoulders back. Even his breathing seemed easier, stronger.

“I feel pretty good. No, actually I feel really good. I don’t think I’ve felt this good in quite a while. Are you sure that isn’t full power? I feel like I’m literally brimming with energy now.” Midnight exclaimed with excitement.

Raz nodded wearily. “Give me a minute and we’ll get you the rest of the way there. I should have thought about doing this a while ago.”

Midnight looked through the windows at the large block of metal he’d left outside. “You know, I think I’m going to want to stop for more materials along the way.”

A few minutes later, Midnight was completely topped off for energy. He seemed like a different person. The man who’d looked like an old melancholy warrior, defeated even before the battle had begun, was gone, replaced by a man with conviction and purpose.

They all stepped outside. Hex wanted one more goodbye, Brock wanted to go over Fidel’s instructions one more time.

As soon as they could, the three stepped a few feet away from the rest, Midnight encapsulated them in travel pods, and they took to the air.

I’ve wanted to get an analysis of Midnight since I met him, so why doesn’t this feel like a win? On a related note, I don’t feel at all ready for this.