17

Chapter 17: Ripple 2-8

Beta'd by BigCC

"Damn you Sophia!" - Speech

'Why, Emma?' - Thought

Ripple 2.8

Two Days Later

Riptide's Workshop within the former S.S. Crazy Jane, Boat Graveyard, Brockton Bay

Taking a step back, I couldn't help but grin as I admired the fruits of my hard work. After two days of near-continuous work, I'd managed to finish the main skeleton for the Aqua RV. At just over fifteen meters long, five meters wide and just under two and a half meters high; it was close to half-again the size of a normal RV, but that was to be expected given all the 'extra' features it had to include. By the time I finished it, I fully expected it to be at least three meters high.

"Not bad, not bad at all." I muttered before smirking at my gynoid assistant. "We've gotten a good start, Salacia."

"Agreement. Current base structure meets and exceeds all available requirements. It is most…satisfactory…to see." my VI companion agreed. "With the current goal-points for Project: A.R.V. met, will you be heading out to patrol today, Mistress?"

"I think I will." I answered almost instantly. It was still early in the morning, I'd finished the last bits of work on the framework last night and had celebrated by getting a full eight hours of sleep, before coming in to do a quick spot-check to make sure I hadn't missed anything. Now that I'd finished that, I felt I'd more than earned a bit of a break away from my labs. A day patrol using my optical camouflage system sounded like the perfect mix of work and play for me. "A daylight field test of the camouflage system's effectiveness, plus a good chance to stretch my legs, sounds like an excellent deal to me. Besides, I plan on patrolling during the day once I move out of the house, I might as well get used to it."

Granted, that was still at least a year or two away from now. Dad and I were finally managing to bridge the gap that had formed between us after mom died, and I wasn't about to throw that away. Had we simply drifted further apart, it might be a different story; I'd have likely rushed to earn my G.E.D. and get emancipated. But that wasn't the case, so there was no need to accelerate my eventual independence…yet.

Mom always said to hope for the best, but plan for the worst.

"Is the Triton Armor fully prepared for a field excursion?" Salacia asked, her mechanical eyes seemingly focusing on something I couldn't perceive. I'd built a few advanced systems into her visual systems, particularly a zoom function that allowed her to magnify her sight to near-microscopic levels. The function was designed for both recon purposes and as part of her systems as my general helper-bot. It had been particularly useful for spotting micro-fractures in the Replacium beams we'd used for the framework.

"The general combat suite has been finished." I stated absently. The general suite was the best catch-all combat load-out I'd come up with so far. "Since I don't know what I'm going to run into out there, it's the best I can do for now." I frowned in thought for a moment. "Put a reminder on my To-Do List to see if I can come up with something to let me swap out part without having to come back to the docking bays."

"Reminder added to Folder: Future Projects." agreed Salacia.

In between fabricating the Replacium beams and shaping and forming them into the framework, I'd managed to build several more add-ons for my Triton Armor. They were primarily different weapons that could be slotted into the arm-mounted sockets; but I'd also managed to build a more robust model of my hydrokinetic flight-pack, this time with a dragon-wing design.

My new design was, surprisingly and annoyingly, far superior to the original, though I wasn't sure why exactly. It was faster, more power-efficient, and even looked better when activated. I could even extend the wings to a size large enough that I could use the edges as a set of enormous mono-molecular blades.

I was still keeping the older model in storage for now, in case the new one was damaged or destroyed somehow, but I intended on upgrading it the next time I got the change. I quite liked the insect-wing design.

The other weapons were…nothing extraordinary. Two were full-sized variants on the Micro-Goop Grenade Shoulder Turrets, which would be useful for taking down large groups of gangsters, or a giant cape like the size-altering Valkyrie twins. Another was a variant on the Aqua Blaster designed for long-ranged sniping and demolitions; it could send a bullet of water well in excess of three kilometers and capable of striking with the force of a shaped breaching charge (or so Amphitrite informed me). For a more passive approach, I'd managed to develop an Aquatic Forcefield Emitter, which formed a bubble of water a few millimeters thick around me that was somehow strong enough to laugh off Salacia punching it with the full force of her servo-muscles...without even rippling.

PHO was right. Tinkertech was such awesome bullshit!

With a quick about-face, I headed toward the tunnel that Salacia had created using the Mole Droid to link the Crazy Jane and Nevermore. Having competent subordinates who could anticipate your needs before you knew them was certainly nice. I really needed to get in contact with Networker next time I talked with Toybox and thank him for my oh-so-clever assistants.

The airlocks covering both entrances to the tunnel had taken me an hour to build and another to install even with Salacia's help, but they were well-worth the effort. Both were built from heavily reinforced Replacium (doubly so on the Nevermore's end to prevent any structural issues when she went airborne) and used a slightly altered version of the hard-light mirage system to make them blend in perfectly with the surrounding surfaces. An alarm system also alerted both my VI's and my personal system whenever one was opened, so even if someone did manage to slip into one of my ships and find the hatch, I'd know immediately and could lock down the other end remotely before detonating a few micro-charges in the tunnel to flood it.

Paranoid? Maybe just a bit, but when you're a Tinker out on your own, paranoia was a justifiable precaution.

"Amphitrite, how's the newest piece of equipment working?" I asked aloud as I arrived back in the Nevermore's lower hull.

"Everything is plugged in and running at optimal efficiency, Mistress Riptide." Amphitrite's voice echoed from one of several micro-speakers I'd planted across the ship's interior. "With the new system up and running, I calculate that there is a less than a 0.001% chance of any ordinary hacker or monitoring system will be capable of detecting my normal activities. Dragon and other programming-specialized Tinkers, however, remain unknowns. I shall be exercising all possible caution and stealth in the systems of Brockton Bay until we are capable of gathering more data and making an accurate threat assessment."

"Good call. The last thing we need at the moment is for her to stick her well-intentioned nose in where it isn't wanted." I agreed with a nod. I had nothing against Dragon, if anything I honestly respected how much she did for the world at large, but she would most likely inform Armsmaster about my lab if she ever found about it, and then he'd inform the rest of the Protectorate and I'd find myself politely invaded and my base would be 'accidentally' be revealed, making it all the more important that I join the Wards for protection.

Again, Paranoia was a lone Tinker's best friend.

Walking over to the rack that held the Triton Armor MK-II, I couldn't help but purse my lips in annoyance. I had already drawn up several improvements for the MK-III, to the point that it would be close to power-assisted armor. Still lighter and more streamlined than the actual Poseidon Power Armor (which I still hadn't started on yet, I knew it was going to be a resource (and time) intensive project, but I shouldn't keep procrastinating like this), but with a lot more protection and firepower than I'd originally intended.

My little run-in with Hookwolf and Vista had been a much needed wake-up call for me in many respects. The MK-II simply wasn't resilient enough to handle a direct hit from a monster like Hookwolf, so I needed to up its defensive power in addition to its load-out. Granted the main mark-up from the MK-I to the MK-II was the inclusion of the modular weapon systems linked to the arm and shoulder slots; I hadn't actually tried to improve the suit's defensive capabilities.

That had been a mistake. One I was not going to make again. All of the offensive capabilities in the world were worthless if the person you're fighting could swat you out of the sky like a fly. I'd gotten overconfident thanks to the MK-I's ability to shrug off small-arms fire, I'd forgotten that there were lots of things in Brockton more dangerous than a bunch of pistol-wielding grunts.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind for further contemplation later, I started getting suited up. That was another upgrade I'd need to focus on when I started work on the MKIII, it still took me nearly five minutes to get fully suited up. I'd have to find some way to cut that down significantly, hopefully to less than a full minute but I'd settle for just being able to cut it in half.

"Salacia, while I'm out I'd like you to start fabricating the sheets of Replacium we're going to need to continue our work on the A.R.V.." I ordered into my helmet's built-in comm system as I headed to the launching bay. "If you run out of raw materials, begin working with Amphitrite and start using the camouflaged drones to scout and identify ships we can scavenge for Replacium without drawing attention. Amphitrite, assist her as needed but you're to focus on updating the map of Brockton Bay showing the latest incidents you can discover using the police scanner I built. I need to know where the greatest areas of tension are."

"Yes Mistress." the two VI responded simultaneously.

Since I was launching in broad daylight, I'd already my visual distortion and bypass systems activated to cover the area where the deployment hatch would open. Using some well-placed hidden cameras and a water-based hologram system I'd designed, there was no way for anyone to notice anything out of the ordinary even if they were staring right at the Nevermore when I launched.

Soaring out of my base, with my optical camo system going on full blast, I lazily circled the Nevermore a few times just to be sure no one was observing her, before speeding off to perform my patrol. Flying around like this, in broad daylight, was giving me something of a thrill, even if no one could possibly notice me. I was a hero. No one knew it, few even knew of Riptide's existence, but I was a hero.

'In your face, Sophia.' I though with a slightly feral snarl on my face. 'One day, I'll be in a position to make sure that you pay for every injustice and humiliation you've heaped upon me and everyone else that you've tortured, as yourself and as Shadow Stalker. Then I'll forget that you ever existed, and move on with my life.'

Being forgotten about, treated as nothing more than a passing annoyance...I could think of nothing that would infuriate and humiliate her more than that.

The Next Day

Main Room, Undersiders Loft Hideout

"So, what's the boss got on the menu for us today?" Alec asked with a smirk as he leaned back into the couch, having temporarily paused Call of Duty when he noticed Lisa walking in. "Another smash'n'grab or something actually interesting?"

"Wait for Rachel to get back Alec." Lisa responded with a roll of her eyes as she walked into the kitchen. "She's out walking her dogs, but she should be back soon enough."

"Whatever." Grumbled the indolent Master as he went back to his game, though there was no heat in his voice. Not that there was ever much emotion in Alec's voice; the boy was a borderline sociopath thanks to his father's conditioning. "Can you at least tell me if the money from the crime wave we've been running has been deposited yet?"

"You got a text confirming it on your phone five minutes ago." the blonde Thinker replied with a smirk.

Alec blinked, pausing his game again and reaching into his pocket and pulling out his personal cell. "So I did." he agreed before returning to his game.

Lisa resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the man-child before turning to Brian, who was filling out the paperwork to legalize his lease on the new apartment he'd be moving into soon. "So how's Aisha doing?"

"Still blowing off school whenever she thinks she can get away with it…which is pretty much all the damn time these days." the older teen answered letting out a bone-rattling sigh. "And of course, Dad's about as useful as a set of cardboard handcuffs when it comes to disciplining her."

His mother was most deliberately not even mentioned.

Lisa held back a grimace. Celia Laborn was a habitual drug user with all the self-control and willpower of a soggy sugar cube. The woman was a textbook definition of an addict with no scruples about getting her next fix, whether that fix be drugs, alcohol, or sex. The Thinker strongly suspected (and her power agreed) that the cocktail of drugs she'd taken while pregnant with Aisha had scrambled the younger teen's brain chemistry something fierce, leaving her with a severe case of ADHD. Aisha's judgment, impulse control, learning ability, and even her memory were all over the place. The girl could be intuitive as hell one second, and about as smart as a concussed lemming the next.

As for the father of the Laborn siblings, well that was an entirely different kind of mess. Frank Laborn wasn't a bad man, but he was hard and about as empathic as a boulder. He'd be the first to admit that he wasn't cut out to be a father for a relatively decent boy like Brian, let alone a girl with the issues Aisha had to deal with. He'd done the best he could with Brian, and had done a rather decent job with him, at least when it came to instilling a sense of responsibility and teaching him how to defend himself. On the hand, the man had no clue how to handle Aisha, unwilling to take the harsh approach with her and equally incapable of taking a softer one.

That had left Brian as the only one willing and capable of enforcing any form of discipline on his sister.

The Thinker was about to say something when the familiar sound of a set of heavy boots stomping up the stairs alerted them all to Rachel's return. The Canine Cape didn't say anything as she threw herself into 'her' seat, glowering at Alec as she did.

"Alright, now that everyone's back, I can give you all the details on the next job the boss wants done." Lisa offered, rising to her feet and cutting off Alec before he could say anything to further rile the mental troubled girl.

All three of her teammates quickly turned their attention to her, Brian setting down his pen while Alec actually managed to sit up properly.

"So, thanks to our recent crime spree, we've managed to start making a name for ourselves as something more than casual robbers in the eyes of the PRT and Protectorate." Lisa offered simply. "The boss wants us to cement that burgeoning reputation with something eye-catching and bold. He made several…imaginative suggestions, but I managed to talk him down to something that, while eye-catching, isn't outside our ability to accomplish."

And hadn't that been a fun conversation? The snake-themed sadist's first suggestion had been an attack on the PRT headquarters for God's sake! Granted, she was 80% sure that it had been done simply to get a reaction out of her and make her more amenable to his later suggestions, but still! Most of his other suggestions had still sucked, but she'd managed to suggest something that wasn't so outlandish. He hadn't been happy at first, didn't think it was flashy enough, but had reluctantly agreed that it was a 'classic.'

She was half-sure the man honestly thought he was some kind of Bond villain. Her power had yet to confirm or deny that opinion.

"Alright, I'll bite." Brian stepped forward. "What's the job?"

"Why the classic of supervillains everywhere." Lisa grinned devilishly. "We shall…rob a bank! The Brockton Bay Central Bank, to be exact."

"Is that even gonna turn a profit? I mean, how much to banks in a shithole like Brockton actually have in them at any one time?" Alec asked skeptically.

"Not much, only 4K for each of us, tops." Lisa admitted. "However, the boss has agreed to double whatever take we get out of the bank in question, plus buying anything we pull from the safety deposit boxes and any confidential information we get out of the bank's computer systems. That last part is my job."

Brian looked dubious. "I'm not sure about this one Lisa, this sound a bit hinky to me. Brockton Central's less than ten minutes away from Arcadia, that means we'll have to deal with the Wards at least?"

"Hinky? Seriously, how old are you dude?" Alec snorted.

"Alec, shut up."

"Look, I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't have a plan to make it happen Brian." Tattletale promised her 'leader' firmly. "I'd honestly be happier if we'd managed to recruit at least one or two more members, but that didn't happen. As it is, I'll need to be extra careful with planning it out since its just the four of us. The layout, the escape routes, the backup, and the backup-backup; I'm going to double-check all of it before we start.

"Fuck's sake, we get it already!" Rachel growled out. "Stop whining. We'll do the job."

"Eh, why not." the Canadian remarked with a shrug. "A payday's a payday as far as I'm concerned."

Brian sighed, massaging his nose. "Fine, but I want a full plan Lisa. No ad-libbing or dramatics at go-time; we go in, do the job, and get out double-time."

"Understood, fearless leader. I'm planning on hacking the bank's security network tonight to start pulling all the data I'll need." Lisa agreed. It would be a pain, particularly with the Thinker-resistant firewalls that Dragon and several other programming Tinkers had put on the market. She'd need to focus and use her power carefully to get through those, but it was still easily within her reach.

"And the rest?" Brian probed.

"A bit of physical reconnaissance." the Thinker admitted. "But the boss has already agreed to help with that."

Again, the man hadn't been happy about it, but she'd managed to get Coil to agree to loan her use of two of his mercs. Both men would be taking pictures of all the ins and outs of the bank throughout the next day or two. She suspected that Coil was actually hoping that one or more of the Undersides would get caught on this job, just so he could break them out, increasing their 'debt' to him.

Really, the man should have chosen a spider reference rather than a snake. He acted like one, spinning a web of intrigue and debt and drawing people deeper and deeper into his parlor.

Brian huffed, but nodded. "When does he want this to happen?"

"The day after tomorrow." Lisa answered. "I'm going to be on the computer for the rest of the day and most of the night pulling all the data I need from the systems and what Coil's men provide. Then I'll likely be out of it for most of the day tomorrow thanks to my Thinker headaches, before I can collate the information and turn it into a working plan, which I'll read you in on. We're aiming for midday, particularly when every member of the Protectorate will be out of town attending some kind of seminar. At worst, we'll have to deal with a few of the Wards."

"Huh, you know that actually does make me feel a bit better about this." the black darkness-manipulator mused. Knowing they wouldn't have to deal with any of the 'big guns' was definitely a relief.

None of the Wards were particularly dangerous (save Stalker and that was more her attitude and weapon than her powers) and the only other Capes to worry about with the Protectorate gone was New Wave. Most of them were all-but retired, save for Glory Girl and Panacea; and none of their patrol routes were anywhere near the bank.

"Alright, we'll leave the detail work up to you, Tats." agreed Brian.

"As well you should." Lisa nodded imperiously.

"Great, now that the team powwow's over, can I get back to shooting Nazis?" Alec asked, slumping back into his seat.

Next Day, Night

Amy's Room, Dallon Residence

Groaning under her breath, Amy reached up and massaged her temples in a fruitless attempt to rid herself of her headache. It wouldn't work, she knew. The only thing that was going to help her was getting some actual sleep, considering she hadn't gotten more than a handful of hours each night for the past month

Carol, her 'mother,' had really been pushing her whole 'heroes are supposed to put others first' spiel hard recently, which had, of course, aggravated her own guilt complex. She'd been sneaking to the hospital most nights, trying to heal a few more people to assuage her unreasonably guilty conscience, but it couldn't go on much longer. Her body was reaching its breaking point; any more and she'd likely collapse on a street somewhere.

'I need to sleep.' she thought tiredly, glancing toward the mirror on top of her dresser and immediately regretting it. Mousy brown hair, freckles, a plain face; all the usual features were now mixed with dark circles surrounding her bloodshot eyes.

She was a mess.

No wonder Vicky had been looking so worried lately whenever she saw her, Amy honestly looked like she was on the verge of collapsing.

If only her power actually worked on herself rather than only affecting other people, the she could put herself to sleep with a touch. She'd claim life was unfair, but she'd known that for years.

The sound of her door opening made Amy jump slightly, before she noticed who it was. Turning, she saw the caught sight of the concerned face of her adopted older sister, Vicky, as she came in and closed the door.

"Ames, you okay?" Vicky asked softly.

Amy tried to offer her a reassuring smile, and failed miserably when the result looked more like a pained grimace. "I…It's fine Vicky. Just a bit of insomnia, I'll get over it."

"You've been like this for the past month, sis." the older girl frowned. "I'm seriously getting worried, maybe you should have one of the docs take a look at you."

Swallowing, Amy tried to think of something, anything, that might ease her sister's worries. Unfortunately, her sleep-deprived mind was offering no assistance. "It's just a phase Vicky, I just need to rest."

"Ames…" Vicky frowned. "Be honest with me. There's something deep going on here and I need to know what if I'm going to help. So just spill it."

"I...I..." Amy swallowed, trying to think of some excuse, only for her mouth to betray her. She was just so tired… "It's just, Carol's been…more strident about how I should be healing people, you know? I…I just feel guilty…since I'm not doing as much as she says I should."

"Bullshit." Vicky shot back, looking angry now. "You spend most of your time in the hospital healing people. You help more people each day than a normal hospital treats in a month! And now you're practically killing yourself trying to do more!?"

"I…I know." Amy mumbled wearily. "But it's never enough….Carol always says I can do more…I can't ever do enough for her….she's always so critical."

Vicky bit her lip, looking for a way to refute that, but coming up blank. As much as she tried to stay positive, she was well aware that there was something decidedly…off…about how her mother treated Amy. It was obvious to anyone who saw them together that Amy was adopted, but Victoria Dallon had never seen Amy as anything less than her sister; which made the impossibly high standards Carol Dallon set for Amy even more confusing. It was also one of the biggest sharp points between her and her mother, since Vicky was never afraid to stand up on Amy's behalf.

Amy was too compliant, too willing to accept the authority and criticism of others, especially from their mother. Just about the most rebellious thing Amy did was to not refer to Carol as 'Mom' or 'Mother' when talking about her with others.

"I know, sis." Vicky finally offered. "And I don't get why Mom's like this. Dad, Aunt Sarah and Uncle Neil aren't like that, so why's it just Mom?"

"I...overheard...Carol talking with Aunt Sarah, a long time ago." the healer said quietly. "It was just a couple of years after I was adopted. I...I'm the child of a supervillain, Vicky. Carol hates me because of that."

"Wha…?" Vicky couldn't even finish her thought. She simply stared at her sister, gaping in shock and a growing kernel of outrage growing in her breast.

"And...I think that the villain...I think that my birth-father was Marquis." Amy continued, her voice trembling as she spoke. "He was captured by New Wave and sent to the Birdcage at right around the same time that I was adopted, and you've seen how Carol acts when someone brings him up."

Vicky nodded absently. That…that did make a very twisted kind of sense. For some reason her mother utterly loathed Marquis. More so, whenever he was mentioned her reactions always seemed tinged with…panic, fear? She wasn't an empath like Gallant, but Vicky considered herself a good judge of people, and there was definitely something going on there.

Then she realized exactly what all this meant and that kernel of outrage exploded into a fiery tirade.

"For fuck's sake, please don't tell me she's acting like this because she thinks you'll go villain just because of who your dad was!?" the blonde snarled out, her fear-inducing aura rising and lashing out with her temper.

"Vicky! Aura!" Amy hissed out, years of exposure having let her build up enough of a tolerance to her sister's power to momentarily push the fear to the side.

"Ah, shit. Sorry, sorry." the Flying Brick cursed and tamped down on her most troublesome power. Really, Vicky did her best to try and control it, but it seemed tied so tightly to her emotions that it activated whenever she lost her temper or felt excited. Which, considering her emotional nature, was fairly often.

"You're really going to have to do something about that, Vicky." Amy sighed. "One day, someone's going to cry 'Master!' at you for it."

Vicky shivered. She'd read horror stories about what Master powers could do to people, and the fact that her Shaker designation was only a polite misrepresentation of what could just as easily be labeled a Master power always turned her stomach. She loved her forcefield and her flight, but she'd gladly trade them away if it meant getting rid of the damned aura.

Quickly shaking it off, Vicky got her head back in the game. Amy was trying to distract her from the issue at hand, but that wasn't going to happen. If her sister wasn't going to do something about this, she would! "Uh-uh, Ames. No distractions on this one. So what if Marquis was your dad? The fuck does that matter? Can you even remember him?"

"I...vaguely. I was very young, about three or four, when Carol adopted me, so any memories of that time are very faint." Amy swallowed. "I remember a man reading me stories in bed as I went to sleep, someone who wasn't Mark Dallon or Uncle Neil, and in a house that isn't this one. I...don't know if he was Marquis, but I do remember that he was kind to me and that he loved me."

"He was your Dad, Ames. Of course he did." Vicky crossed over and sat on the bed next to her sister, giving her a one-armed hug. "We need to find out the truth, and there's only one person who'll give it to us without any bias or bullshit."

"Aunt Sarah." Amy whispered.

"Got it in one, sis." the older girl nodded grimly. "We need the truth here. If the way Mom's treating you is because of whatever shit she has going on with Marquis, then we need to do something about it. It isn't right. Lunchtime tomorrow, you'n'me are going to pay Aunt Sarah a visit."

"Vicky…" the brunette blinked some tears out of her eyes.

"Don't worry sis. I've got your back, thick or thin." Vicky leaned into her sister. "Aunt Sarah'll help us sort this out. Just you wait and see."

The Next Day

Coil's Office, Underground Base

Coil sat back in his chair seemingly lost in thought. Beneath the surface, however, he was practically bubbling with anticipation. Today was the day, quite possibly the most important day in the course of his plans since he'd first acquired his vial from Cauldron. Today was the day he got his hands on Dinah Alcott.

Everything had been planned out to perfection and all the pieces were accounted for.

The entirety of the Protectorate were out of town at a publicity event he'd bribed, blackmailed, cajoled, and manipulated several higher-ups into setting up. They would be too far out to interfere with his plans in any timely manner.

The Undersider's robbery would draw the attention of the Wards, removing them from play. While he'd been hoping for something flashier to ensure that his pawns had their full attention, he had, reluctantly, conceded to Tattletale's point that anything bigger risked losing more of his pieces with little to no extra gain.

New Wave…ha! That 'team' was obsolescent and almost completely retired. The only possible outlier would be Glory Girl, and, considering she attended Arcadia as well, she'd be drawn into the bank heist with the Wards.

A dark grin spreading across his lips, Coil tapped the earpiece that was part of his mask. "Command to Baker Team, deploy for the mission. I want you in the AO in the next ten minutes.

"Confirmed, Command. In route now, ETA to OA is seven minutes." confirmed the mercenary he'd put in charge of Baker Team.

"Confirmed. Report in on any disruptions." Nodding in satisfaction, Coil laced his hands together and set to waiting to hear from Tattletale that the Undersiders were ready to move.

He had no way of knowing that Glory Girl and Panacea were currently flying across town to the Pelham home (citing a 'family emergency' to get out of school), or that at the edge of the Boat Graveyard, an armored figure had shot out of the 'hulk' of the S.S. Nevermore and was making for Brockton Bay proper.

«