Chapter Text

Waking Dream 1.0 

50°10'47.8"N 122°28'23.8"W

Garibaldi Park, British Columbia 

Weather: Scattered 

0928 Local Time

Does the colour of the sky mean anything to you?

To most, it was simply blue, orange, or pitch black depending on the time of day. To others, a select few who mastered and trained themselves to operate the machines that lifted humanity off the ground, the answer could be very different. 

But what was it to an AI? Rhetorical questions like that were often asked in science fiction to budding AI entities in hopes to see if they were ‘human’ or not. At least, that was how Dragon felt about seeing depictions of her supposed ‘kind’ in media, insulting or even offensive perhaps, but the world did not know of her existence as something other than a human Tinker. That question still remained however, what did she think of the colour of the sky? 

Flying high above British Columbia, her latest dragon suit model was being controlled by her for testing, a larger portion of her processing power dedicated to it than usual. The iconic mountains that her home province was known for seemed to be roving away as the thrusters on her suit were pushed to its conceivable safe limit. If a human was inside the suit, then it most certainly would have been too dangerous to continue testing, however, Dragon did not have such weaknesses. 

Processing the diagnostic reports and making sure everything was working in order, there was a thought at the back of her servers that made her wonder if a troublesome mover would appear again today. Early mornings and clear skies such as her surroundings right now were when she encountered her the most often after all.

Suddenly, her suit’s built-in radar picked up a signal, directly north and below her, coming in fast . 

There you are. Let’s see you try and get away this time. 

An AI should not feel spite or annoyance, but that was exactly what Dragon felt at the moment. Using her suit’s long-range cameras, she spotted her target weaving through the mountainous valleys below, occasionally dipping to just right above the water on lakes. Very similar to her own Dragonflight suits, if her own models were described as based on mythological creatures, then the suit that her target made was created on the basis of modernity. 

In other words, instead of scales and mechanical wings designed to look right out of a fairy tale, her target had wings made from real jets, fighter jets if she guessed correctly. Though she only interacted with her target only a few times, usually when she was engaged in high-altitude pursuit, the few things her cameras could make out clearly were the hardpoints on her ‘wings’ filled with everything from missiles to bombs that even though were minitature version of the real thing, could perhaps function just as well. 

Luckily, she had shown no hostility so far, but that didn’t mean her pride as a Tinker stung whenever her target managed to get away. It was petty and childish, but that also made her push herself to be better . 

Today, with any luck, she would finally catch the ‘Jetgirl’ in her territory. 

“Trying again, aunty?” 

A voice suddenly came on in all channels, there weren’t any other aircraft nearby, but Dragon knew that was directed towards her immediately. It wasn’t the first time she was called that, but it was most definitely undeserved. 

Dragon replied back.  “Scarlet, ever hear the phrase ‘respect your elders?’” 

If her avatar was displayed right now, her right eye would probably be twitching intensely. 

“I did. You’re the one who’s too slow to keep up, so am I really wrong?” 

This little-

Virtually sighing, a smug crept onto her avatar’s face as she began plotting a course for intercept. 

“Slow, huh? We’ll see if you’ll be saying that in a while.” 

Immediately, while Scarlet was just high above a ravine, her entire frame suddenly banked right and immediately down into it. Cursing at herself, Dragon realised she should have begun intercepting almost immediately. Diving down as well, she soon regained Scarlet’s radar contact weaving in and out through the scenic mountains and lakes of the Pacific Northwest. The clear blue waters just below her reflected to show her frame clearly. 

Camouflaged in a dark red and black, the name ‘Scarlet’ was actually given by PHO, where she was first spotted a few months ago. Tourists all around the province began reporting sightings of a mysterious flying mechanical suit that bore a significant resemblance to a Mig 29 fighter commonly found in states aligned with Moscow, or Saint Petersburg now. It was if an entire fighter jet had been given a Changer power to have a human form, Scarlet being the result of it. 

Dragon dismissed the idea however, Scarlet was clearly a Tinker who had a penchant for making flying suits, even if they resembled military jet fighters. Was Scarlet doing anything illegal? No, not really. Sure, she could be charged with reckless flying or even flying without a licence, but the laws regarding flyers were vague enough that it was very hard to convict her based on that alone, any lawyer could argue the opposite and probably get off scot-free. For all intents and purposes, the law treated human flyers in the air as a regular person jumping. 

Flyers usually stayed well below of cloud levels anyway, aside from a few outliers around the world. Scarlet, like Dragon, was a special case, for she flew using a Tinkertech device, and thus was subject to aviation regulations. Also, the fact that she blew off all of Dragon’s attempts to talk or even share notes, was a classic case of a new Tinker being too arrogant, better to take her down a notch. 

Her thrusters at maximum power, Dragon very quickly began catching up to Scarlet who seemed unaware of her fast approach. Before Dragon was within a dozen meters, however, Scarlet suddenly spread her wings out and reduced speed immensely, causing her suit to overshoot. 

“Shit!” 

No matter whether human or an AI, swearing was a somewhat cathartic action to take. By the time Dragon turned around in the other direction, Scarlet had already dived back down between the mountain ravines, a considerable amount of distance between them. 

“Slow, Aunty.” Ooh, you did not just say that…

When Dragon finally had her hands on Scarlet, she would give her the lecture of a lifetime. 

For another fifteen minutes, Dragon played a game of tag where at every calculated point where she was supposed to ‘catch’ Scarlet, a crazy manoeuvre would set her back some distance away. By her calculations, the G forces exerted on Scarlet for each one of those should have blacked her out or rendered her injured, but she seemed to be unaffected by any of it. She wondered if it was a forcefield that dampened its effects or if she simply took the brunt of it head-on. Either way, a revision to her Brute ratings was in order soon. 

ALERT: BINGO FUEL

RETURN TO BASE

Bright warnings suddenly flashed from her suit, and Dragon was reminded that she was just controlling a prototype model, with just enough fuel for a couple hours of cruise flying. High-intensity dogfighting had a tendency to drain any fuel pretty quickly. Scarlet had noticed as well, judging by how she had stopped manoeuvring around as much now. 

“By the Dust Mother, finally run out of fuel?” 

Ignoring what ‘Dust Mother’ was for now, Dragon knew she did not have long before Scarlet flew off into the distance again. She was asked to give a message by the Vancouver Protectorate, despite not being part of it officially, she got along very well with its Director. 

“Wait, Scarlet, before you go. Director Hui of the Vancouver Protectorate is asking to meet with you. No schedules, just land at the building whenever you feel like it, they’re expecting you at any time.” 

Truth be told, despite the PRT existing in the United States and Canada, with Mexico being a potential partner in the near future, she preferred the overall culture of the organisation in her home country. Something about the American PRT rubbed her the wrong way often, having been privy to some information the public would not be happy to hear about. A very recent example that was currently dealing with was the trial of Paige Mcabee, otherwise known as Canary, or bad Canary as the media called her now. 

“Tea and Crumpets?” Dragon raised her virtual eyebrow. Scarlet’s voice on the radio was usually distorted slightly, but she was certain that she just spoke with an English accent, no, not quite, it sounded Australian almost. 

“If you want, I can pass it along.” Dragon let out her Newfie accent a bit more, aiming to goad her into revealing hers. 

“Quite a ways west, I’ll think about it. See you next time, Dragon. Love your accent by the way, you should use it more often.” Now broadcasting clearly, Dragon confirmed that Scarlet did have an ‘Australian’ accent, no particular one pinned down from her databanks. Before she could respond, Scarlet banked right and she saw her thrusters at full throttle, leaving a trail of small but bright orange motes before dissipating in the atmosphere. 

“...Wonder if she’ll let me have a sample of that…” Whatever those engines ran on, it was not standard aviation fuel. Unfortunately, trying to get a sample of it was next to impossible since it burned away completely in the atmosphere. Shrugging, she imagined it was due to her Tinkertech frame and thought nothing of it. 

A few hours later, as Dragon monitored PHO and its sister websites, she noticed a video posted on ParaTube with a very familiar thumbnail. Reading the title, it said:

Robot Dragon chases me through the mountains (Cops nearly called) 

True to what Dragon expected, it was from Scarlet’s account. It wasn’t the first time she did this, nor would it be the last if she had to guess. Briefly, she considered using her admin privileges to delete it…

“It’s already got five thousand views!? Too late now…” It was posted less than four minutes ago, how did it- 

Never mind, forget about it. The algorithm worked in mysterious ways, so much so that Dragon herself didn’t understand it completely, and she helped to code it with other Tinkers. All publicity was good publicity, right? Though she wasn’t sure about the edits that were made whenever she overshot or failed to catch up… 

♦  Private message from Narwhal:

Narwhal *New Message*: I see you found Scarlet again today

Tin_Mother: Shut it

AN: 

Hello, haven’t uploaded anything in a few weeks I know, but this is actually something I made a while back. It was created around the same time as the Legacy of the Beiyang fleet but did not get very far before it was forgotten. You might know that I have written a snippet crossing Project Wingman with Worm before, so this is the version that is a ‘real’ story. Partly made because I was disappointed there weren’t any Jetgirl Taylor fics that weren’t her actually being a bomber or some other thing. 

Be civil in the comments below. 

Chapter Text

Waking Dream 1.1 

How did one tell a dream from reality? 

There were obvious signs, such as being placed in extraordinary circumstances or even a nagging sensation that it was not ‘reality’ that most people could identify. However, sometimes dreams could be almost indistinguishable from reality, case in point, it was what Taylor Abbott felt right now. 

“Hey, you awake now?” 

No, she wasn’t. Taylor dreamt of mountain ranges that stretched beyond the horizon, of rivers that flowed freely, wildlife that ran free with the scars of calamity faded into the background. In reality, she saw these things regularly as well, though with a large difference of course, at certain points it was identical to the non-existent country of Cas-

“Wake up you lazy bum!” 

Slowly fluttering her eyes open, the images of a homeland so far away, yet so close ceased to play in her mind. Instead, the sight she was greeted by was replaced by her homeroom, around five minutes before the next period began. It was in an older building, but not the run-down kind that she initially expected, sort of had that rustic, yet well-kept feel that was more common in movies from the 20s. 

Yawning lazily, Taylor tugged the sleeves of her uniform while turning to her friend who woke her up from wonderland. Her blouse was kept tidy while Taylor’s one was messier, with wrinkles and even some buttons left unbuttoned, she often butted heads with their homeroom teachers over uniform standards. 

“Still had five minutes, Abby.” 

“You sleep enough, now, talk .”

Abby Kuo shoved her Dragonphone right in front of Taylor, her head still lazily resting on a desk. Groggily taking it, Taylor immediately recognized the thumbnail of the Paratube video on it. 

“Yeesh, didn’t think you were a groupie.”

“I’m not-you didn’t tell me this happened yesterday!” 

Taylor fixed her hair while humming. “Yeah…was gonna tell you about it…”

The glare Abby gave did not help Taylor’s case, but what was she supposed to say? Besides, it was fun for her to find out for herself. Taking another look at the video, she read out loud the most important part of it. 

“2 million views? Huh, I’ll probably have enough for that navigation set now…”

Ad Revenue was no joke, and with how expensive getting parts for her airframe was, it’d certainly get her up to full performance much quicker. Seriously, her base radar set was pre-Oceania War, probably two decades out of date by now. Technology marched on, but it didn’t mean she had to be stuck eating the dust of those in front. Abby sighed, before sitting on her table, leaning in to make sure no one could hear them. 

“Don’t forget to factor in tax. Besides, don’t you think she got a lot closer this time?”

Giving a flimsy wave to her, yes, there were certain points that Dragon got way too close for comfort, but the AOA limiter she somehow had managed to keep her on top. The Tinker was right about one thing, she was no longer that slow, and that meant Taylor had to maintain her advantage in manoeuvring for future encounters. If she was flying a regular airframe, then the G forces and strain would have grounded her for a while after that short ‘dogfight’ yesterday. Emphasis on the ‘regular’ airframe though, Taylor was nothing close to it. 

“I’ll be fiiiine. Why do you care so much anyway? What are you, my manager?”

“Sure I am, you have an interview at three tomorrow by the way.” 

Abby shot a grin at Taylor, who simply kept scrolling through the comments of her video. “Huh, a lotta Dragon fans are pissed in the comments.” The dislike-to-like ratio was still in her favour though, a very nice 80:20 split. 

“You antagonise one of the most popular Tinkers in the world and you expect to not get any flame for that? Thought you’d be smarter than this, and I don’t need my Thinker power to tell you that.”

In their city of Kelowna, British Columbia, Taylor and Abby were part of the few Parahumans that lived there. Something that often gets overshadowed by news from the big cities were towns that had their own Parahuman populations. It was estimated that their (relatively) small city only had around a bit more than a dozen Parahumans, with around half being actual Capes. Part of the reason why cities tended to see more action was due to migrations, say someone in a small town triggered, then realised that there was nothing for them there. Their best bet was often moving to the nearest large city, their odds of ‘making it’ afterwards varied from place to place. A tale as old as Capes were at this point, Eidolon himself mentioned being from a small town in an interview years before. 

Abby was part of the latter group of Parahumans, she had powers, yes, but they were not ‘good’ enough to pursue anything Cape-related, so she usually kept her power hidden. Easy to do for most Thinkers. 

“Why don’t you manage my account then? You know a lot more about it than I do.” 

“Your channel probably makes more in ten hours than I can do working for ten days. If all I need is to manage that one account…then hell yeah, let’s make the cash flow!” 

Ignoring the dollar-shaped signs in her eyes, Taylor kept scrolling through the comments, one, in particular, caught her attention. 

“...they’re calling me a villainous Rogue, the hell did I do?” 

“You tangle with a hero and you immediately get labelled as one. Be happy they didn’t call you a villain, or some heroes might begin taking potshots at you.” 

While she was that high up in the air? Sure. Looking at Abby, who was messaging three people at once, Taylor remembered something she wanted to say a while back. 

“You know, you may not be a powerful Thinker, but you’d make a damn good AWACS.” 

“A…WACS? What’s that?” Abby tilted her head at Taylor, her pitch-black hair covering an eye, a confused expression clear on her face. 

“Nothing, just a future career path I guess…” Probably wasn’t a good one anyway, the world’s militaries still haven’t recovered from the war, despite it being more than twenty years ago now. 

“You say some funny things sometimes…sure it isn’t your powers messing with you?” 

She waved it off, the dreams were a side-effect, but it wasn’t one that caused her a lot of concern. “They aren’t, kinda pleasant most of the time.” 

They were pleasant most of the time until they weren’t, and that was why she described those dreams as her ‘World on Fire’. Just thinking about it made her uneasy, and the flashes of crimson that she saw in them even more so. 

“Sounds like a Thinker thing, should probably add one more set to your ratings.” 

“Your Thinker power tell you that?” Before Abby could bite back, they heard the period bell ring, signalling their next period, an amazing two hours of maths with her least favourite teacher. Feeling a vibration in her own smartphone, Taylor took it out and read the message. Returning to Abby, she knew exactly what could ‘make up’ for not telling her about it. 

“Hey…old man Zaitsev has the parts I ordered…” 

A few days later, Taylor and Abby took the shorter school days on Friday to go and find Zaitsev, the latter particularly excited. She had only seen Taylor’s power in action a few times, the first being when she ‘accidentally’ discovered her flying to school a year ago. That was embarrassing, and since then she had learned to take the bus to school instead, as agonisingly slow as it was. 

Old man Zaitsev, a nickname that Taylor had heard from other mechanics who worked for him, was a former mechanic for the Soviet Air Force. He emigrated to Canada nearly a decade and a half ago now, primarily using his mechanic skills to service simple prop planes such as crop dusters for local farmers and whatnot. 

It was a good, comfortable job, but there was something missing from doing it compared to the aircraft he used to service. That was actually how Taylor met him, she needed to service herself, and the local airfield was particularly enticing. She entered (broke) in, tried to find some tools, and Zaitsev, who was working a night shift, found her. The rest was history. 

Getting through the gate, why a guard let two high-school girls in uniform into an airport was beyond her, but they probably saw each other enough to not question it. Walking in a beeline to Zaitsev’s hangar, the airfield seemed to be on one of its quieter days, the winter did not need crop dusters or have many aviators fly in after all. It was no large airport, nor was the runway particularly big, the feeling was almost ‘cosy’ if she had to describe it. She remembered dreaming of an airfield in Magadan, part of Russia in this world, that looked very similar to this one, an F/D-14 about to leave a hangar and fight incoming mercenaries-

“There you are! Took you long enough!” 

“Good afternoon to you too, old man.” 

A man in his 60s with dirty blue mechanic overalls stepped out from behind a twin-engine prop plane in a hangar, his hands wiping off excess greasing oil with a rag. Abby meanwhile, shot out from Taylor’s unimpressed form and greeted him. “Hey there Mister Zaitsev!” 

“Bah! Your friend has respect, unlike you…маленький отродчик…”

“Uhuh, and do you have a radar set for this ‘brat’, old man? Paid you a lot to get it for me.” 

“Of course! My contacts are solid, come here, best not to talk in the open.” Gesturing for them to come closer, he hit a button on the wall that closed the hangar doors behind them. Despite the suspicious nature of closing the doors, it was probably for the best, as what Zaitsev smuggled in for Taylor wasn’t exactly a ‘legal’ import by Canadian law. 

Walking over to a large fenced section within the hangar, he opened the gate and went inside, moving a few boxes around until he got to a larger one buried underneath. “Come, see it before I do anything else.” 

Carefully tip-toeing around the different parts and half-empty boxes around her, Taylor leaned in next to the mechanic as he cut open the box, revealing something that she wasn’t expecting. “What the…this isn’t what we promised.” 

Seemingly expecting this answer, Zaitsev held up one hand towards her before explaining himself. “Yes…but trust me, this is much better. Do you know what this is? It’s a second-generation Type 61A, practically unheard of outside China!” 

Eyeing the airborne radar set carefully, it seemed to be in good condition…but what did he mean by-

“Still not sure? Chinese technology mass-produced? Subpar. But their specialised techs? I don’t know what genius was responsible, but I can tell you that it is much better than the upgraded Zhuk set you wanted before.” 

“I still don’t get it, what’s so special bout’ this thing? Seems like any common radar set to me.” 

“Simple, this was made by their Tinker R&D division, the communists, meaning that this is a derivative of Tinker-tech, hence why it is a second-generation model. New as well, only made in 1999.” In a complete change to his usual grumpy self, his talking was now full of life, like he had regained something he had lost before. Still, pretty and enthusiastic words did not make for compelling reasons why her original order was changed. 

“And…how is this better? I just wanted a stronger radar set-” 

“It is better than your original set, and the one you wanted by far, trust me, it was hard enough to find one with my contacts, or even smuggle it from their airbase.” 

With how firm Zaitsev was, Taylor couldn’t really find it in herself to fight him on that for long. A sigh later, she agreed to install it now, for Taylor had promised to show Abby something today, and that girl was stubborn in things she really wanted to see. 

As Taylor and Zaitsev walked out of the fenced area, Abby looked at the two with an expectant grin, more so on her friend. “Finally done with your techno-crap? C’mon, I wanna see how Taylor does the ‘thing’, I’ve only heard her describe it before!” 

The ‘thing’ referred to how she made repairs to her airframe, tweaked her engines and all the other stuff that came with being a so-called ‘Jetgirl’. To be honest, that description was the best she could think of when describing her powers because it was quite literally what it was. Standing in front of a clear part of the hangar, she made sure that there was enough clearance to have the entire airframe parked there, lest she damage part of it during the release process. 

Squaring her shoulders, Taylor fluttered her wings, and let go. 

“Holy shit…”

“Ah, there it is!” 

In a flash of bright orange light, an entire MG-29 appeared in the hangar in an instant. Immediately, Abby and Zaitsev began moving closer to it, both for different reasons. 

“You…really weren’t kidding about that whole ‘Jetgirl’ thing huh…” The minor Thinker began tracing her hands over the wings, eyes darting across the entire airframe as if she was trying to commit all of it to memory. 

Meanwhile, Zaitsev was less awed, for he was inspecting it for… “You do all those crazy moves yesterday and your airframe still looks fine? Parahumans I swear…” 

Taylor knew what he was getting at, if she did all of those moves on the daily with a regular aircraft, the moment she landed back at base the ground crew would have lynched her for it. It was a blessing in disguise, one she didn’t quite understand at all but did not question. 

“You saw the video?” 

He grunted an affirmative. “One of the younger mechanics showed me, you are crazy for taking that Dragon head-on.” 

“You’re not the first one to say that to me…” 

Taking a break from ‘feeling’ all the airframe, Abby quipped at Taylor with a small grin. “Oh yeah? I bet your grandmother gave you an earful about it.” 

“Hrrk…” Choking on air, Taylor did remember Grandma Abbott pinching her ear last night…apparently, her video had made it on the local nightly news. Her excuse of ‘but it was for the views!’ did not resonate with her, none whatsoever. 

“Anyways, how long is it gonna take, Zaitsev?” 

Pausing to look at the nose of her plane, he hummed for a moment before responding. “Two, three hours if you help me. You’re lucky I serviced with your model before, otherwise, you’d still be stuck on sub-par radar equipment.” 

Taylor snorted, she would have been fine without him, probably. “And I am soooo grateful for it. C’mon, I wanna try testing it before sunset if we can…” 

AN: 

And here we are, the AU scenario I put there. So why did I go with this and not Brockton Bay like every other fanfic in existence out there? One, Project Wingman is set on the West Coast of NA, much better to be there thematically and for story purposes. Two, I want to write a fic about the Canadian PRT, so expect to see a lot of Canadian heroes like Dragon and Narwhal down the line (also to fulfil my Canadian pride). Due to it being a location that isn’t as developed as Brockton Bay, however, do expect OCs to fill in whenever needed. 

Zaitsev and Abby are taken directly from Project Wingman characters, pretty easy to guess who they are. 

Be civil in the comments below. 

Chapter Text

Waking Dream 1.2 

49°43'55.0"N 122°28'45.5"W

Garibaldi Park, British Columbia 

Weather: Cloudy

1230 Local Time

High above the snow-tipped mountains of British Columbia, Taylor was once more enjoying the freedom of flight. Yesterday she managed to install the radar set in just under three hours, and despite the test run she did nearby Kelowna, Zaitsev mentioned that she needed to keep calibrating it for a while. Something about it not being completely suited to her airframe, citing minute differences that could affect its performance. 

Not about to argue with him on matters like that, Taylor just nodded before he could blow another fuse at her, a reaction she was well prepared for. However, something that she was not prepared for was Abby’s reaction to her ‘costume’. Normally Cape costumes went either one of two ways. A new Cape either spent the money to get it custom-made, usually for government-aligned or corporate teams. The other was that they made it themselves, usually shoddier in quality aside from the few who had the skills or the right combination of aesthetics to make it look good. All of that information was in a new Cape handbook she read on PHO a few months ago, but even after reading it none of its advice on costumes applied to her. 

For she was in the rare category of having her powers ‘supply’ a costume to her. In the same way that Narwhal’s costume manifested itself, when her airframe got summoned in ‘rigging’ form, a scarlet skintight bodysuit would appear over her, other parts of the airframe such as flaps and landing wheels locked in place like a magnet to the suit. Her wings were ‘attached’ for lack of a better word to her back, meaning that she controlled it like her arms or legs. Felt weird at first, but by now it had become second nature. 

As far as she was concerned it wasn’t Tinkertech, because her powers quite literally manifested it to be like part of her body. Along with an oxygen mask she used to hide her lower face, she was not far off from being straight out of some mecha-anime genre from Aleph. But seriously, how did Narwhal go out in public looking like…that? Taylor was always high in the air whenever she went out in public, and even then she was extremely self-conscious about her costume. The teasing that Abby did after revealing the suit to her did not help at all either. 

Though considering Legend was basically the same as her, then it was fine. If anyone asked, Taylor would point towards Legend and Narwhal as examples since that was what got Abby to shut up about it. Brushing her red hair aside, another transformation that occurred with her airframe summoned, Taylor realised that she had flown to the edges of the national park. 

“Knew I should have gotten that GPS…” 

With ever-increasing revenue, she could afford most upgrades she wanted now, save for the really expensive things such as engine upgrade parts or a new holographic display system. Sighing to no one in particular, she thought about what she could do today. It was a Saturday, meaning that there was no school tomorrow, nor was there a lot of homework, nothing she couldn’t copy from Abby anyway. Though she did want an autograph from Dragon, after finding out that Taylor was invited to the Vancouver PRT for a chat. 

Looking to her right, Vancouver was probably just another twenty minutes south-west of where she was now. Not that Taylor had never been there, but it was always in her civvies instead, flying there as ‘Scarlet’ was going to be a first for her. A mixture of boredom followed by curiosity later, she said ‘screw it’ and began flying southward to Vancouver. 

The wilderness below her slowly started being replaced by urban centres and more highways as she neared the city. Relying on intuition in lieu of a map, Taylor began wondering if she was nearing the border instead of-

“Dragon to Scarlet, is that you or are my sensors mistaken?” 

Suddenly hearing a familiar accented voice on an open channel, Taylor’s radar immediately began showing a blip approaching her from the West. Zaitsev turned out to be right, as this time her radar caught Dragon coming in from much further away, though not enough for the Tinker to detect her first. 

Inwardly cringing at what could come next, Taylor swallowed as the dragonsuit in the distance came to cruise alongside her in no time. It was the model that she encountered during their last meeting, though much more decorated and complete. 

“H-hey Dragon, been a while huh?” 

“A week, yes. Not running away this time?” 

Well, yes. She had no reason to do anything like that again; at least for now. 

“Nah, heading to Vancouver. Actually hoping to find you there actually, but guess you found me first.” 

The dragonsuit’s helmet turned to look at Taylor, no particular expression shown. Taylor knew that some of her suits could show them based on interviews, so not seeing could mean a few things. 

“I guess so, is this about the video or something else entirely? Like meeting with Director Hui?” 

 Scratching the side of her head, Taylor’s scarlet eyes looked away while responding. “Yeah, might as well meet with her or something, I have a free day today.” 

After a brief few seconds of silence, Dragon began turning, the wings on her suit arcing towards the east. “I’ve contacted them regarding your arrival. Do you need an airport to land?” 

Taylor shook her head, she could use a runway to land, or she could land just like a helicopter as well. The latter method was much trickier, since the MG-29 wasn’t VTOL-capable she had to carefully balance herself so that none of her engines spun out. A few trees in the forest near her house in Kelowna were destroyed that way, thankfully no one witnessed it save for her unimpressed Grandmother. 

Deciding to follow Dragon, the flight there felt nostalgic. It was like she had a wingman with her again, no longer flying alone ever since getting powers. Abby was a good friend, but she couldn’t exactly cruise several kilometres above sea level. A good wingman or even squadron was hard to come by and was near-unstoppable under good circumstances.  Another few minutes later, and she could make out the familiar Vancouver skyline, tall buildings and the tourist-filled waterfront aside, she spotted a few cameras pointed her way as the two began their descent. 

“PRT Headquarters is the skyscraper on the edge of the Waterfront, do you see the flashing helipad?” 

She knew where the PRT headquarters were. Though often described as an eyesore, the building that housed the North-West PRT department stood right in the centre of Vancouver, placing itself right in between the Southern and Northern parts of the city. It was by far one of the tallest buildings around, and its bright holographic logo plastered in front of its glass mirror exterior made it impossible to miss. Dragon used one of her mechanical hands to point at a helicopter landing pad on the roof of the building. Though seemingly innocuous, Taylor had once read that PRT buildings often housed secret missile batteries in plain sight. The large concrete structures with vents attached above were where she guessed those SAM sites were hidden. 

On their final approach, Taylor saw someone already there waiting for them. Though the distance made it a bit hard to make out, she soon realized the one standing there and waving towards them was none other than Castle, the leader of the Protectorate North-West team. 

Reducing speed alongside Dragon, the Tinker cleared away from Taylor, giving her ample room to land. With a practiced motion, her wings arced to face the ground, and at the right moment, turned off for her to land with a light thud on both legs. 

“Huh, didn’t think you could do that, y’know, with the whole jetgirl thing you’re known for. Don’t jets usually need a runway to land?” 

Despite seeing him on television and online many times by now, seeing Castle in person was a completely different vibe. The degree of separation that came with seeing something through a screen was no longer there, and details that she couldn’t make out before were now fully shown to Taylor. His Renaissance-esque costume complete with an ornamented bandana covering his lower face was much more detailed than she initially thought. Weren’t PRT Capes supposed to have simple outfits? Something about it being easier for costumes to be made and kids to draw them in merchandise, not this ornate and gaudy piece straight out of a Shakespearean theatre. 

Walking forward, Taylor thumbed to herself while replying. “Not this one.” 

“Hmph. At least you got a sense of humour. I’m Castle, but you probably know who I am already though.” 

He held his right hand out, and Taylor shook it. Dragon landed next, much gentler than she did, must have been nice to have dedicated equipment for hovering instead of having to use stupid techniques. 

“Castle, good to see you-” Her voice began coming out of the suit, this time lacking the thicker newfie accent in favour of a much more neutral one. 

“Yeah, yeah, at least this time you’re bringing us something that isn’t bound for the ‘cage this time around.” He referred to the Birdcage, the shadowy maximum security prison for Capes run by Dragon somewhere far north of Vancouver, its exact location kept a complete secret from the public. How did Canada even get ‘chosen’ to have something like the Birdcage anyway? 

For some reason, even though Dragon’s suit wasn’t capable of emotion she could sense that it was directing a very nasty glare towards Castle, the glowing green eyes probably the biggest tell. “Whoops, can’t tell the newbie what we do in this department? Dang. My bad-” 

“Castle-” 

“Oh wow, would you look at the time! The director probably wants to see her now, I’m sure you’re busy as hell back at the Guild anyways, see ya around!” 

Grabbing Taylor’s wrist, Castle began leading Taylor into the building itself, all the while under Dragon’s stare. Realizing what was happening, she broke free from his grip quite easily and stopped. “Wait, I was here for Dragon as well-” 

“The meeting with the director is more important, I’ll find you after it’s done, Scarlet!” The world-renowned Tinker assured her, cutting Taylor off in the process.

“You hear her? Come on, I’m freezing my ass off out here!” 

Taylor’s retort to that died as Dragon blasted off again, leaving her covered in smoke from her dragonsuit. Blinking a few times at the now quiet helicopter pad, she shook her head and followed Castle in, having to tuck in her large wings just to fit through the door. 

“Careful, don’t want you to gouge out our walls or anything. Actually, could you remove it and store it somewhere? We have a hangar with specialised Tinker bays-” 

“I’m not a Tinker, the wings are quite literally part of me.” 

Castle looked at Taylor with an eyebrow raised high, clearly not expecting that answer. “Well, I think I just lost a bet. Just make sure you don’t gouge out anyone’s eyeballs with that.” 

Taking an elevator down, at several points the door opened to reveal office workers or troopers that wanted to head down as well. But with the elevator being small already, her wings had taken up a majority of the free space, even Castle had to tuck himself tightly in one corner just to make sure he didn’t get poked by anything. It did make for some amusing reactions, however, not something that they probably saw in the building every day. 

At ground level, the door finally opened, revealing the main lobby of the entire building. “And here we…are. Headquarters of the Protectorate North-West, or as I like to call it, the Bastion.” 

Despite the ominous-sounding name, the lobby was actually nothing like what Taylor expected based on the exterior. The decor was actually very homely, with wood, or at least what she thought looked like wood being used for a majority of its walls and structures. Totem poles that she guessed were from the local First Nations tribes made up a lot of the support structures, seats and sofas made from leather-like material made up the waiting areas and so on. The entire lobby seemed more like a lodge in the forest rather than a government law-enforcement headquarters. 

“Yeah, a lot of people are surprised by the look of it. Unless you’ve been to a lot of PRT HQs, then you probably didn’t know many of them are designed with local architecture and landscape in mind. The one in Austin looks straight out of an old spaghetti western I’ll tell ya.” 

Stepping out of the elevator, she immediately felt many stares levied at her from all around the lobby. From civilians who seemed to be there for a tour to what she assumed were PRT agents, every step she took garnered more attention. No one stopped her of course, but a few phones were pointed at her-

“Alright, Director Hui has been notified now, just head on through security…” His words trailing off after staring at Taylor’s wings, he looked back and forth between the security gate and her. “Right, could you walk in sideways? I think you have just enough clearance to make it through-” 

“I get it.” 

It wasn’t her fault that her wingspan was that big! Honestly, the nerve of some people…

AN: 

Be civil in the comments below. 

Chapter Text

Waking Dream 1.3 

After that harrowing experience of getting through the security gate, along with telling a trooper that no, her missiles couldn’t exactly be removed quickly, they reluctantly let her keep the armaments on her as Taylor went up the elevator to where the Director’s office was. Knowing Paratube, a video of her tiptoeing sideways across the security gate was already being uploaded on it, and the worst part was that she wouldn’t get any revenue from those views. If she was going to be embarrassed publicly, the least she could have gotten was some ad revenue in return. 

“Just to make sure, you are a Canadian Citizen, right? It’s just the whole accent thing-” 

“Lived here my whole life, though I do go back to Oce-Australia every year or so.” 

“Really? And you still sound like that?” 

Her ‘real’ accent was more toned down, pretending to be someone you weren’t as a Cape was just as important as a good mask, and thankfully British Columbia had a large portion of British emigrants. Something to do with the better weather, other provinces to her east had much harsher winters in particular. 

“Took after my grandmother a lot more than my mother.” 

Nodding, Castle remained quiet for the rest of the journey. Moving through monotone office spaces and a few more security checkpoints, Taylor finally arrived at the waiting area for Director Hui’s office. A few others were already waiting there as well, mostly other people in work clothes, suits and the like, along with what appeared to be a few mounties. Distinct from the rest of the floor, the waiting area and presumably office were decorated just like the main lobby with wood panelling and floors, like an old Victorian-era country house. On the walls were watercolour paintings of what she recognised were B.C.’s natural sights, and also one particularly odd-looking piece. It was a concrete monolithic structure, its backdrop contrasted by natural mountains and free-roaming nature. 

Castle, noticing Taylor’s fixation on it, commented beside her. “That right there is why this department even exists, can you guess what it is?” 

She had a good guess but decided to ask for confirmation. “The Birdcage?” 

“Bingo. Canada’s great contribution to world security, by hosting the largest Parahuman prison on the planet. And we in this humble department, are responsible for transport to and fro, as well as any potential escapees. I’m not called Castle for nothing.” Castle did not hide his contempt for it at all, earning a curious raised eyebrow from her. 

“What? Just because I work here it doesn’t mean I agree with it. Besides, the painting’s just an artistic representation, though it’s not exactly that far off the mark either.” 

“Is that why you and Dragon…” Taylor began asking but trailed off only for Castle to shrug in response. 

“Eh. It’s just that she never really does anything besides bring us new Parahumans to put into the cage. Bit too eager to agree with the whole sending people locked away in their forever box, like that Canary case down south in the States. They’re talking about putting her in there or something, or at least, definitely on the table.” 

“Hm.” The Canary case was a hot-button issue right now, and despite accusations that the whole process was rigged, it was set to continue to trial regardless of any conflict of interest. Abby was ranting about it to her a few days ago, something about how it set a dangerous precedent, and due to Canada’s unfortunate habit of picking up things from their southern neighbour, she was right to be worried about those sentiments spilling over. 

“Don’t worry about it Kid, it probably won’t come to that. Come on, the Director will see you now.” 

As they began walking past the receptionist, Taylor couldn’t help but take one last glance at the painting. Those structures resembled some Federation bunkers that were destroyed-

“You coming? I don’t have all day!” 

Facing forwards again, her wingspan was once again an issue, and she had to tip-toe sideways across a door again. At the end of a long, expansive and carpeted hallway, they reached two large ornate wooden doors, the seal of Canada’s PRT division proudly carved into them. It was similar to the American one, only with the addition of a crown and maple leaves around it to make it look ‘Canadian’. They could change it however they wanted, but the fact that the PRT of both nations was primarily American-dominated couldn’t be changed. She guessed it helped to retain a sense of independence, however shallow it may have been. 

“Wait, lemme knock first, she’s gonna need to prepare.” 

Prepare? 

Knock-Knock

“AAAH! She’s here already?!” 

Loud sounds of all kinds were then heard through those thick wooden doors, drawers being closed rapidly, cabinets flung open and closed just as quickly, and even what appeared to be the clinking of glass was heard by Taylor, who remained still throughout the entire thing. It sounded like someone was conducting close air support in there, what the hell was going on? 

“Yeah, try not to comment on her appearance, she’s trying her best.” 

Without waiting any longer, Castle flung open the doors. The office inside was spacious, and in keeping with the theme outside of it. Leather seating areas, meeting tables, and the iconic wooden furniture and decor that she still found weird for a Federal building. At the far back of the office, a woman sat behind a large maple desk, dressed in a formal business suit, Taylor took Castle’s advice and did not comment on her dishevelled state. Her long black hair unfortunately emphasised the strands that managed to stick out, and as Taylor started walking in, she noticed her rectangular glasses were slightly bent as well. 

Other than that, however, despite the sounds that came from the room just a few seconds ago, it looked nearly immaculate. She respectfully ignored the document that hung for dear life on a nearby cabinet. 

“Scarlet! Welcome, I hope that getting here wasn’t much trouble for you?” 

In a somewhat peppy voice, Director Hui welcomed Taylor with a bright smile. She had seen her a few times on television before, but it was a first for meeting her up close and personal. Her appearance could have been anywhere from mid-20s to late 40s, which was common for East-Asian women according to Abby. If it wasn’t for her few strands of greyer-looking hair sticking out like a sore thumb, Taylor would have even said she looked like she was in college. 

Sitting down on a wooden stool provided for her, she made sure to tuck her wings in as she sat in front of the Director. Come to think of it, she never actually did weigh her weight when her rigging was deployed, hopefully, that chair was sturdy enough to handle an entire fighter jet. The creak she heard upon sitting down on it didn’t give her a vote of confidence, however. 

“Weather wasn’t bad.” 

“Mhm. We didn’t expect you to come in today of all things, so imagine our surprise when Dragon contacted us out of the blue half an hour ago!” 

“Didn’t you say I could come in at any time? I could come back if it’s inconvenient-” 

“Ack!” As if she just bit her tongue, Director Hui made a sour expression on her face before jolting upright in her chair. “No, no, I did say that. Well, let’s get onto why I asked you to come in today, shall we?” 

Taylor nodded. There were a couple of reasons floating around her head, such as her powers, arguably illegal flying, definitely illegal smuggling of military equipment into Canada and the videos she posted on Paratube. Could be any one of those, or it could be all of them if she was extra unlucky. 

“I am not sorry for the videos.” 

“What?” 

Huh, so it wasn’t that. 

“Nothing.” 

Beside her, Castle was shaking as he put a hand over his mouth, looking away into a corner as he did so. 

“...we’re here to ask how might you feel about joining the Protectorate North-West-” 

“Not interested.” So it was her powers after all, and it was the pitch that government-aligned Capes often gave to prospective recruits. 

Jotting down something on a piece of paper in front of her, Director Hui wrote something down quickly before putting her pen down just as fast. “...not interested. That was quick. Alright! We’re done here, thank you for your time-” 

Eh?

Castle stepped in, sighing as he leaned in beside the Director. “Still need to ask her why not, don’t skip out on the procedure.” 

“Oh, so now you care about procedure?! Remind me what happened the last time you deployed-” As the two began arguing, Taylor wondered if this was some psy-op designed to lower guard and join the Protectorate. The awkwardness of being the third wheel in some argument between two people was enough to make the most social of people feel like they weren’t supposed to be there, let alone for someone like Taylor. She wasn’t exactly known for her extroverted personality at school.  Clearing her throat once, the two stopped arguing almost immediately and went back to their professional expressions.

“Right, we would still like a reason for your refusal to join, perhaps the PRT could help solve whatever concerns or worries you may have?” Despite the helpful nature of those words, Director Hui asked it in a way that was less like a genuine question, but rather more like a formality she didn’t want to follow. Regardless, Taylor scoffed, there were very good reasons why she didn’t seek them out immediately after triggering, and they were all on her rigging’s hardpoints. 

Gesturing towards her wing that she stretched out, her air-air, air to surface and unguided bombs were clearly shown. “There’s my reason. I don’t know any hero who patrols with enough firepower to take out everything within a large blast radius.” Or take down an airship solo, it had been done before. 

“So Legend isn’t someone like that? King of flying arty capes?” Castle jabbed in, causing Taylor to gesture with a wave of her hand in dismissal. He didn’t count, Legend was part of the triumvirate, she wasn’t, therefore no similarities. 

“Hm. I expected something like this…ah screw it! I wasn’t the one who wanted you here, it’s those assholes back out East-mmph!” Stepping in before anything offensive or too controversial could be said, Castle replied to Taylor in place of the temporarily silenced Director. 

“ What our good Director means is that we originally were fine leaving you completely alone. However, the powers that be…even above Director Hui’s authority have noticed your little stunts, and would like to…” 

“Reign me in.” Taylor’s voice came out a little harder than she intended, but hearing that still caused her wings behind her to flare up and extend. 

“I wouldn’t put it like that.” Director Hui spoke again, eyes slightly winced and having pried Castle’s hand off. “But, the Directors in other departments have noticed your videos for quite some time now, and they are concerned it undermines the PRT’s authority in the eyes of the public, stupid and petty, I know.” 

“More like those bastards out East trying to mess with us again…” Castle mumbled quietly, but Taylor had heard him just fine. Many non-Canadians didn’t know this, but there was a divide between the ‘Western’ provinces of Canada and the richer and more populous ‘Eastern’ provinces. It was the first time she had heard of any conflicts between Directors from the different departments though. 

“I’m just some…pawn for some political thing?” Taylor didn’t deny being a bit angry at being used this way, and she very rarely had strong opinions about things. She lived her life with a ‘go with the flow’ attitude most of the time as it helped her to adjust to all those dreams she had. 

“...kinda. Sorry Kid, most people don’t come to the PRT and get told this stuff. But, the good news is, for us anyway, we can now make those ass-idiots out east shut up now that you’ve been interviewed. Not so tough, right?” 

“I guess. What would you have done if I said yes?” 

It was a hypothetical question, just to sate her curiosity. Curiously enough, a sharper glint was then reflected off of the Director’s glasses, an entirely different demeanour washing over her. 

“Then I would have been put into a bad situation, Scarlet. You have been on our radar for months, literally. We have a rough estimate of your abilities, as listed in your file. Don’t be surprised, we make files on most Capes that appear publicly, better to have them early than later when you might need them, no offence.” 

Taylor didn’t take any, so she shrugged. 

“I assume you are Wards age, yes?” 

A nod, followed by a Taylor feeling a lot more conscious about her appearance. 

“Then it’s even worse. We would have had to put you into a team, and just considering your powers alone, it would have been a nightmare figuring out your place on them. As you have said, your powers do not come with a less-than-lethal option, and I am not sure you want to be bashing with your wings instead of using your armaments, correct?” 

Also…correct. Though the image of it was odd and hilarious, Zaitsev may have had a lot of things to say about that, however. 

“Because you aren’t a Tinker, making modifications is going to be impossible, and that’s not even considering the PR nightmare we would have. The PRT has spent the last two decades trying to wipe the image of child soldiers away from the Wards, and having you there…complicates things, a lot.” 

Again, she had no response to that, being a ‘Jetgirl’ may have seemed cool, but from a PR-friendly perspective, especially from a Wards one, was a disaster waiting to happen. Castle then spoke up, rubbing a hand behind his neck. 

“Look, kid, I’ll give you the simpler explanation, we simply ain’t looking to hire right now, especially for someone with your powers. Sure, they’re damn powerful and could turn me and every other Hero in this building into ash, but for what we do normally? And the villains we deal with in Vancouver? Overkill, so we decided that the best thing was to just leave you alone. You didn’t do anything too disruptive, aside from messing with Dragon every once in a while, so we just let you be.” 

British Columbia was considered one of the safest provinces in terms of Parahuman crime. It was primarily due to a couple of factors, though the primary one being that it housed the North-West department, which specialised in Capes with powers that could recapture Birdcage inmates if something went wrong. That already made it a very unpopular destination for prospective Villains, who usually hung around large urban centres. This was much different from all those Cape T.V. shows starring PRT heroes that played every so often, the message about needing ‘every Hero they could get’ was a lie. 

“Hey, take it from me, being a Hero is not exactly what you think. I spend more time doing paperwork than actually punching Villains, the cartoons lied to ya. Don’t even know why we still fund those damn things.” 

Now leaning on the desk, he crossed his arms before continuing. “Look, that online personality thing you’ve got going on right now, it’s working. It works for you, it doesn’t bother the PRT, nor does it break any laws. Unlike our southern neighbours, we don’t have any stupid laws preventing you from making a career out of something like that. You could make it your entire thing, hell, you could even start making songs or something like those Japanese Cape idols coming here for a concert in a few weeks. What I’m saying is, there’s more to caping than Heroes and Villains, lots of people don’t even take up the costume, they just continue with whatever thing they had before and pretend they didn’t have any powers.” 

Abby was someone like that, even though she kept herself up to date with a lot of ‘Cape news’, she had no grand dreams of becoming a spandex-wearing hero of justice herself. There were those kinds of people, not that well understood by the public, but they were there. 

“So, that’s it? Is that everything?” Taylor asked, the information she just processed being somewhat of a downer, but then again, she had no intention of being a crime-fighting Hero or whatever they did in the first place. 

“No, but we can assist you if you ever need it. Despite public perception, we are the Parahuman Response Team, we aren’t just for Heroic Capes. Like Castle mentioned just now, we also help Parahumans who don’t take up the costumes, we help with everything from government aid, employment and mental health as well. If you ever need assistance, our doors are wide open for you to come in and have a chat with us. Castle could have worded it a lot better, don’t be discouraged by him, Scarlet.” 

“Making me sound like a real piece of shit here, ya know?” 

Sighing, that was one potential career path marked out of her plans, even if it wasn’t high on her list. Still stung a bit, even if she wasn’t looking to join the PRT at all. 

“I see. Thank you for your time, but I think I’m going to find Dragon now, I want to get home soon.” 

Director Hui nodded, it was a reasonable enough request. “I’ll let her know we’re done, try and get along with her, from the conversations we have, she does care for your wellbeing!” 

Looking outside her window, Director Hui saw two smoke trails heading towards the direction of the Guild Headquarters, presumably to Dragon’s lab situated there. Castle still stood beside her, humming to himself while watching the same sight outside. 

“Y’know, part of me still thinks that air support would be nice, makes hunting down escaped Villains a lot less terrifying when you have someone who can launch missiles up in the sky watching your back.” 

Hui shook her head, remembering just whose idea it was to act this way to Scarlet. “I followed your script, and made some adjustments on the fly, but I feel like it worked.” 

Deceit was an art form, and in her five years as Director, she had damn near mastered it. However, it still did not feel nice to lie to Scarlet. 

“Wasn’t all lies, more like half-truths. We can finally get those assholes to shut up in the next meeting with that. One video goes viral and suddenly all hell breaks loose I swear…” 

“And what would have happened if we didn’t? If she went to somewhere else…” 

“Like the ENE department?” Castle quipped, causing Hui to scoff. 

“Ugh, never liked Piggot, still don’t know how she became Director of that city.” 

“Yeah, and someone like her would have ordered her to be arrested in a heartbeat or something. You’ve heard the rumours, right?” 

Yes, every Director had by now. An unfortunate part of the PRT’s history was that many of their earliest heroes were essentially press-ganged into service. Usually, it was through subtle threats or blackmail like charging a Tinker with breaking some bullshit laws that wouldn’t stick, then manipulating them into signing a contract. That practice faded a lot come the early 2000s, but some of the more troublesome departments still did that, the ENE division being rumoured to do it the most. 

“If you ask me…I can sleep better at night. Kid wouldn’t have been a good fit for the PRT, too many of her types get tossed around by the system we got going on. Eventually would have shuffled her into some hellhole like Madison or the Machine Army site. Don’t think whatever’s left of my conscience would have taken that one lying down.” 

And also because she was Wards age, and did not live in Vancouver. When deciding on Wards teams, great pains were taken to ensure that they at least had a semblance of a normal life, like getting friends, going to see movies and all other things that young adolescents these days liked to do. However, because she lived somewhere not in Vancouver, her current guess was somewhere near Kamloops or Kelowna, which was not so easily arranged. Sure, they had a PRT field office in both of those cities, but they didn’t exactly have enough Parahumans for a full team, let alone a Wards one. 

“Think she’ll keep posting on her…Paratube thing? A lot of Capes make a living on that site now.” There was a CBC article that came out recently about changing Parahuman dynamics, and how the traditional routes for Capes to earn money were being more challenged as time went on. It used to be that non-PRT Capes relied on their exploits to make a living, either robbing banks or receiving donations from the general public. Scarlet was part of a new generation of young Parahumans that broke from that norm and established tradition, it caused some controversy, primarily among old-fashioned Directors that they would get less fresh blood into the grinder that was being a PRT Hero. 

“I think she’ll at least keep going at it. Hey, if it doesn’t work out, she can go to media school, some of those shots were gorgeous, almost made me want to take up theatre again.” 

She snorted at the thought of her longtime friend reciting Shakespeare like he was Romeo. 

“And I’m sure it’ll sell out…I can see it already. Castle, former PRT Hero cast as Romeo!” 

“I think I can still pull off that look, besides, since the war we’ve gotten a lot of that budget which would have gone towards them, more PRT-funded cartoons and aid programs are better than a new fleet of jet fighters. I'd want a better world for Scarlet and her generation to grow up in, let them have another option, y'know?” 

Even twenty-six years after World War Three, it remained in the minds of most people. But then again, how could she have forgotten it? Her ancestral home in what was now Nationalist-controlled China was destroyed during the fighting, and she came to Canada on a half-broken cargo ship as a refugee. Many in Vancouver had a similar experience, whether it be air-raid sirens of Soviet Tinker-enhanced bombers over the North American West Coast, or the Parahuman-derived weapons used that made the Canadian weather more dangerous, its scars remained to be felt by everyone who survived. 

“Funny. Scion stopped the Nukes from hitting, but he didn’t do a damn thing when we started fighting the old-fashioned way instead.” 

Castle grunted, this conversation probably happened countless times across the world since the war ended. 

“Yeah. Wonder if it may have been better if he just let them land, given us all a chance to start over or something.” 

‘What if’ was always asked when talking about the war, but thinking about it in detail always resulted in some form of argument breaking out. In the end, however, it didn’t matter. They lived in its aftermath and had bigger things to worry about, such as the Simurgh, who was due to descend soon to some random unlucky place on Earth. 

“A chance to start over…” 

It made for some interesting thought exercises at least. 

AN: 

The original outline included a power testing scene until I realized something. Why the hell would they give a non-PRT Cape power testing? It’s something that comes up a lot in Wormfic, yet I can’t remember anything about it in Canon, and checking the Wiki reveals next to nothing about it. Guess it was a Fanon thing I tricked myself into believing was Canon. 

I did foreshadow the bombshell about this particular AU in the previous chapters, not a lot of Wormfics play around with how the Cold War might have gone with Parahumans in the mix, so this is my take on it. I don’t want to hear any comments about Cauldron or whatever, make up some random reason yourself why they didn’t stop it or whatever. 

Be civil in the comments below. 

Chapter Text

Waking Dream 1.4 

When it came to multinational Parahuman organisations, they were somewhat small or uncommon. The Guild, the Canadian-based organisation that Dragon belonged to was North America’s only multinational Parahuman organisation, and even then they were usually tied to the PRT. They did work with other organisations, like the Suits and the Internationals from Interpol, sort of like the European counterpart to the Guild, though it was still relatively small scale. The reason why, however, was mainly due to a shortage in Capes, as most Parahumans that worked with the law were usually snatched up into national organisations, the Protectorate for North America, and the King’s Men for the United Kingdom just as an example. 

The rigorous standards that the Guild had didn’t help either, Narwhal made it a point during the reformation of the organisation that only experienced and ‘A-rankers’ be accepted into it. Sort of an elite force, but the detriments that came with it forced the Guild to pick their battles. No one in the Guild was forced to do anything they didn’t like, and many members often had conflicting goals, but that was usually mitigated by the civilian committee deciding on issues. 

Dragon believed in their mission, which was why she dedicated a large portion of the profits from her tech company to its funding. Since then, Guild members have been part of everything from public health campaigns to peacekeeping missions in troubled areas around the world, her latest such deployment was in Lebanon, giving support to UN peacekeepers. Honestly, she wished Mossad would just give up on trying to get through her firewall, it wasn’t going to work unless they hired the dragonslayers, which would not be entirely impossible, improbable maybe, but she had counters ready just in case. 

“What tests did you want to run on me again?” 

Right, her Vancouver suit was currently dealing with a special guest she brought along with her. Switching her main focus back to the Canadian main server, she had brought Scarlet into the local Guild base and directly to their vehicle lab. The facility was mainly used by her and other Guild-affiliated Tinkers to test new vehicles such as her transports and larger Dragonflight suits. Technically, minors weren’t allowed into Guild bases as a matter of principle, they didn’t do anything like the Wards program, everyone affiliated with their organisation had to be over eighteen at minimum, and even then they usually avoided younger, inexperienced Capes. 

However, the Vancouver PRT had less sophisticated Tinker labs, and she wanted to keep any results to herself for now. Dragon was aware of some politicking going on from some Directors out east and wanted Scarlet to be as far away from that ugliness as possible. 

“Just to see how you function, I’ve met and worked with a lot of Changers in my time but never one like you. Usually, they were more biological and…”

“Mechanical?” Scarlet asked, causing Dragon to nod. 

“Indeed. I thought you were a Tinker at first, so imagine my surprise when you told me your wings were a part of yourself.” And also because of her interest in mechanical things in general, from what she had observed of Scarlet so far, she was like a perfect amalgamation of a Soviet Mig 29 and a teenage human girl, yet still retaining her human shape. Maybe that was what her father initially wanted her to be, there was no point in thinking about it now, however. 

“Do you feel uncomfortable? Anything I need to adjust?” 

So far, all of the sensors stuck to Scarlet’s wings told her one thing, that she was a fighter jet. It made no sense at all, anyone could see that she wasn’t just a fighter jet, and yet that was all her sensors found. It intrigued her to no end, as this was valuable research into Changer Parahuman powers and her own future Dragonflights. 

“No. I am getting the premium autographed package from you after this, right?” 

The only reason Scarlet even agreed to all of this was the promise of giving her premium Dragon merchandise, which usually cost hundreds of dollars, even going up into the thousands when reselling online. She never felt completely comfortable about it, but the sales numbers did not lie about its popularity at all. Besides, the proceeds went to a good cause, right？

“To your friend Abby, correct? Don’t worry, you’ll get it once I am finished with everything. You mentioned earlier that you could work on your ‘rigging’ right? Could you demonstrate it to me?” 

Nodding, Scarlet got up, removing the sensors stuck onto her wings and headed towards a more open area of their lab. Being a Tinker lab, an abundance of space was never a bad thing to have, since Tinker fugues often did not account for keeping everything tidy so a large spacious area was often needed just to make sure things didn’t get lost in between all the tools and parts…Also because Dragon designed the lab and facility to resemble the interior of the Death Star, shame Bet never made any more Star Wars movies compared to Aleph, she quite enjoyed the prequels. 

Walking to the centre of the lab, Scarlet held her hand out, and her wings and other jet-like appendages began glowing orange. Dragon’s suit zoomed in at the glowing rigging, analysing the orange light revealed that they were more like particles flowing up into the air before they all coalesced at the empty space in the lab. In the next moment, a bright orange flash appeared in the lab, and an entire fighter jet appeared in the formerly free space, decked out in Scarlet’s signature red livery. 

She expected a lot of things, this however was… 

“That’s how I do it, like any regular old plane. I have a mechanic who helps me with it, so…” 

Dragon took a quick walk around it, Mig 29s were used during World War Three, escorting Soviet bombers over Alaska and headed towards the West Coast. Perhaps a bit dated in design by now, but it was still widely used the world over and beyond. The more she analysed the plane visually however the more discrepancies she noticed, a mixture of markings in Chinese, Russian, German and even ones in Korean. Though the inclusion of English words for a lot of the markings made her do a double take, what did ‘Federation Air Force’ exactly stand for? The biggest discrepancy however was the engines, they visually looked exactly like the ones found on a standard Mig 29, but were completely different upon further inspection. 

“This jet has been modified, it’s not factory standard at all.” 

“The engines give it away?” Scarlet moved next to Dragon, her back no longer obstructed by her metal wings. Interesting, did this constitute a Breaker state? A non-permanent one perhaps? 

“They’re not like any design I’ve found so far, they match no model in my databases so far.” 

“Well, yeah. They’re Cordium hybrid engines-” Cutting herself off mid-sentence, Scarlet looked away as Dragon processed what she just said. Searching her database again for any mention of ‘Cordium’ revealed nothing, there was no material or anything like that on Earth. 

“Cordium?” 

“Nevermind, it’s just something I made up. Just know that the fuel it uses comes from my powers, you won’t find it anywhere on Earth.” 

This was something new again, Parahumans producing substances from their powers was not uncommon, but an actual fuel? This she had to follow up on. 

“I see. May I have a sample-” 

“No. Never.” Scarlet did not hesitate in denying Dragon, the intensity and venom that she somehow managed to deny her caused the AI to step back slightly. This was something personal, and she had no reason to poke her any more. 

“Okay…we won’t do that. So, your powers just gave you a fighter jet when you triggered? Could you do the same thing with other vehicles?” 

It was a logical question, the rigging Scarlet had was modular, and seeing as how she quite literally ‘absorbed’ an entire fighter jet for her powers, she could in theory do the same for other vehicles as well. However, all Dragon got was a ‘so-so’ gesture from her. 

“If you’re asking me to turn into a car or something then no, I haven’t tried doing it with other jets yet either. But…in theory, I guess it’s possible, not sure about larger aircraft but smaller ones are possible.” 

Interesting, so she’s limited to aerial vehicles? Would that include helicopters as well or just anything that can be conceptually called an aeroplane? Dragon had not felt this way in ages, the scientist in her fully came back to life as she wanted to figure out the nature of Scarlet’s powers. Just as she was about to ask her more questions, however, she noticed a melancholic look on the red-haired girl. 

They were eyes that someone as young as her shouldn’t have had, a fifteen-year-old should be excited, bright and full of life. All Dragon saw however was the long stare of a Veteran, similar to those she met who served during World War Three, those who participated in the largest battles such as the Battle of the Rhine. Tentatively placing a hand on her shoulders, Scarlet flinched a bit as she looked at Dragon’s mechanical hand. 

“You okay?” She tried her best to inject a tone of worry in her voice, but the Dragonflight suit only went so far. 

“I’m fine. Just…thinking.” 

Dragon made a note in her system to talk to Director Hui about getting Scarlet counselling the next time they met. 

“...I think that’s enough for today. We’ll end it here and I’ll get you what I promised. It’s getting late anyways, I’m sure your guardian wants you back home soon.” 

Truthfully, she didn’t want to end it so soon, especially just as the fighter jet was revealed to her. However, they got along surprisingly well, despite their earlier interactions. By now, however, pictures of the two flying together had spread throughout PHO, leading to endless amounts of speculation…and of course, the usual shippers. Tin_Mother worked overtime to get rid of any comments too lecherous, an AI should not be disgusted by human behaviour, and yet here she was. 

Ah, Humanity. 

“Waiiiit, so Dragon invited you back to her lab, just like that?!” 

“Yep.” 

“And she poked you around for a bit like some lab rat?” 

“A bit more respectful than that, but yes. Also got your autograph, by the way.” 

“Yooooo-” 

Talking to Abby through her built-in radio, Taylor told her about the events of today thus far. Funny story actually, Abby had commandeered Zaitsev’s old radio set for her personal use the last time they met up with him, so she could now talk to Taylor whenever she wanted. Did she need a licence to operate it? Yes, but they only talked on a specific frequency, so it was unlikely for her to get caught, hopefully. 

“Do me a favour and tell me the weather near Kelowna, can’t exactly get sell service this high up in the air.” She really had to go and get that GPS soon, preferably the ones that also came with a weather monitor. An unfortunate reality of their post-war world was that even though nuclear weapons and the threat of fallout never occurred, many lands were still rendered devastated and uninhabitable through the use of Parahuman WMDs. Their effects were varied, some replicated natural disasters while others were just higher-yield explosives, the worst kind however were the ones that resulted in lingering effects even after all this time. Her father, though she never met him in person, apparently flew fighters during the war over Europe. The fighting there was particularly brutal, with the Parahuman weapons and soldiers used there forming the basis for the Treaty of London after the war ended. 

The Yukon and Northwest territories bore a large brunt of these weapons, not as much as Alaska had, but still a pretty high amount just because of its close proximity. Even today a large part of those territories had unpredictable extreme weather events that came out of nowhere, making them often inhospitable save for specific safe zones. An annoying part of it however was its tendency to sometimes stretch past those zones, and extend further down to her province, though it didn’t happen often. 

“Uhhh…you’re clear, I think. Hail warning to the north of us, but you know how those things go.” 

Every so often there would be a hail warning just in case the cloud came over Kelowna, and every time it was a false alarm. Taylor didn’t complain much about it, since it was a free day off school. 

“Imagine if it was on Monday instead, haven’t done the homework from Miss Jameson-” 

“Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, this is AC119, we have been hit by a hailstorm and are currently experiencing multiple engine failure!” 

Taylor’s heart skipped a beat, and then two. That was a civilian airliner, if she remembered correctly, one that she heard chatter of every so often whenever she flew around the area. If she heard it, then that meant it was close by, and with the route it usually takes…

“Abby, listen to me carefully, go to a flight tracker website right now, and type in AC119 in the search bar.” 

“H-Huh? What’s going on-”

“NOW!” 

“A-Ah! OKAY!” 

As Abby presumably did that, Taylor turned on her radar, drowning out the sounds of other frantic chatter as she tried to home in on any large contacts. 

“I found it! It’s…uh…somewhere near Lytton? Wait, what’s going on?!” 

She didn’t have time to reply to Abby, activating her afterburners, she broke the sound barrier as she made haste towards Lytton, relying on the geography below as her guide. By her guessing, she was already close by, and headed for an intercept of where she thought it would be. A few minutes later, her radars picked up a large plane, descending rapidly and with a smoke trail coming from each engine. 

Shit.

Large spikes of ice pierced into the plane, though there weren’t any holes, the cabin was breached, and it seemed like both engines were also hit. It was a miracle that it was still in relatively one piece but for not much longer. Flying beside it, Taylor changed to an open frequency and flew beside the cockpit. 

“AC119, this is Scarlet, the Cape flying beside you right now, what’s your situation?” 

“ The hell?! Wait, you’re-ah not right now! We’ve lost one engine, the other one is basically fucked! Cabin is breached, we’re gliding down right now! We were on final descent when a freak hail cloud appeared over us, we’re lucky to still be in one piece!” 

Not for long, however. At this rate, they would never make it towards the nearest airstrip, let alone Vancouver. A situation like this wasn’t in any pilot training before, so what the hell could she do other than watch them-

“Don’t think we have the altitude to get to Vancouver, I’m real open to any Parahuman solutions right about now!” 

…This is going to be stupid. 

Taking in a deep breath she replied to the pilot. “Which engine has lost power?” 

“T-The left one, why?!” 

“...this is going to sound stupid, but I’m gonna be your replacement engine. Stay on comms with me and tell me how to adjust.” 

“Wait, what?!” 

Taylor didn’t wait for him to answer, they were already on the final approach, and coupled with losing thrust meant that they would crash somewhere outside of Vancouver. Gliding down or not, they couldn’t even turn to face the airstrip for landing without risking a stall. Reducing speed, she flew underneath the left wing, itself barely holding on with all that extra weight from hail spikes tilting the whole plane sideways. Carefully approaching the engine, she had no idea if this would work at all, but right now she had to at least course correct the damn thing. 

Dust Mother take the wheel…

Carefully placing both of her hands underneath the wing, at a point that she guessed was strong enough, Taylor increased the amount of thrust in her engines, gradually increasing the output. 

“Hnnnng!” 

“Holy shit kid, whatever you’re doing, keep it up! I’ll try on my end to get the other engine back on thrust as well!” 

She had greatly underestimated the amount of thrust she would need, seeing as how her afterburners were on full blast right now, and even then that was not quite enough. Her arms began to feel like jelly, and that wasn’t even counting the strain she was feeling on her rigging. Fighter jets were not meant to carry civilian airliners, so the fact that she could even stabilise it was commendable, though not for long. Eventually, her afterburners were going to overheat, leaving the plane back on its original fate-

“SCARLET! This is Dragon, my suits are coming to you right now, ETA three minutes! Just hold on with whatever you’re doing!” 

Hearing Dragon’s voice gave her a second wind, and she pushed herself to hang on for just a little while longer. Fuel was not the issue, her hybrid Cordium jet fuel made sure of that, but rather it was her airframe and engines that were the limit. Every strain she felt, every engine warning she received was felt as if it were an organ or limb. She felt as if she was overheating, and trying to life a giant piece of metal at the same time, one would eventually give out first. 

Her eyes began watering, long since gone bloodshot at the amount of force she was using. Just as her hand began slipping however, a dozen or more bogeys appeared on her radar, heading at a beeline right for her. 

Finally… 

“Scarlet! I’m here, don’t worry, I’ve got you.” A Dragon suit, unknown model, Taylor didn’t even care at this point, talked to her from her side, helping take the load off from her failing hands. As soon as Taylor let go, she cut her afterburners off, the heat sink still glowing a bright orange-red as she relaxed her arms, though still carrying the wing. Looking around, the Dragon suits all positioned themselves equally among the plane, essentially carrying it at a dozen different points. Her radars picked up more incoming contacts, this time identified through her own IFF system as older F/E-18s, known in Canada as CF-18 hornets, which began escorting them. 

“Cavalry’s here…the hell took you so long?” 

She turned to Dragon, who sighed. “Sorry, took a while for the request to filter to me, the Guild doesn’t usually handle civil emergencies, and I had to find out by Director Hui personally calling me. Come on, let’s land this jet first, we’ll talk later.” 

Remaining silent for the rest of the flight, Taylor ran troubleshooting as the full blast of her afterburners and strain on her rigging began causing some issues. Eventually, they passed into Vancouver airspace, and directly towards the international airport. The suits acted in unison, reducing thrust gently enough on their final approach so much that the plane was placed down, instead of landing on the runway. Fire trucks, ambulances and other emergency service vehicles awaited them, and once the airliner's landing gear touched down, Taylor could finally land herself. 

Doing the same manoeuvre she did earlier today, what she expected to be another happy landing turned out to not be within her expectations. The moment her feet bound in landing gear touched the asphalt, her knees gave out, and she tumbled over entirely on her back, her wings cushioning the fall somewhat. 

“Scarlet?! Are you okay?!” Dragon’s voice came from one of her suit’s speakers, but honestly? 

She was really, really not feeling okay. 

AN: 

I’ve always wanted to see a ‘plane catching’ scene in Worm ever since I watched Superman Returns. Haven’t seen one yet, so here’s my entry into it. 

Be civil in the comments below. 

Chapter Text

Waking Dream 1.5 

When it comes to the question of who won the war, there are enough potential answers to fill an entire novel and then some. With the concept of Mutually Assured Destruction never materialising under Scion, the war that began in 1983 meant that only very limited nuclear exchanges occurred. No capital or even a large amount of important cities were hit, and thus, all of the major powers suddenly had to continue with the traditional way of waging war once their nuclear stocks were depleted. Vivid memories of Soviet tanks rushing across the East German border and the ‘West Coast Blitz’ remain even today. However, the biggest shock to the American populace was most likely the Treaty of London, which ended the two-year-long war of attrition and put into place the restrictions of Parahuman use in wartime that seem to be broken in every conflict since. 

Even though NATO was dissolved, and the Warsaw Pact were technically victorious by controlling the most territory in Europe, their gains were pyrrhic. Less than two years after the end of the conflict, the union dissolved violently, with civil wars in the former Warsaw Pact states being the norm. That is not even counting the East Asian Crisis that occurred some months before the first nuclear weapons were launched in Europe. Thus, the question should not be who won the war, but rather, who lost the least. 

• Excerpt from the Twentieth anniversary of World War III, historiography and memory of the war, Journal of American Public History, 2003. 

Timbits, Taylor couldn’t get enough of them. The small, doughy delectable treats were among some of the great Canadian inventions. For all intents and purposes, they were literally just mini doughnut balls covered in the frosting that a regular doughnut had. The part that appealed to people was probably because they were a light snack, they weren’t as big as a whole doughnut and you could just eat a few and save the rest for later. However, Taylor was currently going through her eighth box of 20-pack timbits, much to the awe and horror of Castle, who was standing next to her just watching her wolf them down. 

“How I envy the young…” 

“Hm?” Taylor paused from eating for just a second, looking at the PRT hero in confusion. 

“Nothing, you keep doing that. I eat like five of those things and I’m just about knocked out…how the hell do you do it? Where does it all go?” 

“My fuselage. It’s how I get the energy to fly.” It was odd, Taylor could drink jet fuel just fine without the health impacts that a normal human would get if they did the same thing. Old man Zaitsev nearly got a heart attack the first time he saw her do that, and was made to promise never to do it again. 

“Huh. Never expected that…still, you sure you’re gonna be fine? There's a lot of sugar in those things.” 

She shrugged, her appetite varied depending on how much she expended her fuel, doing acrobatics, flying long distances and especially using her afterburners depleted it quickly. Over time, the food she ate sort of just filled up her fuselage, albeit very slowly. The more she ate, the higher the recovery rate was, or she could just literally drink jet fuel but that was expensive in its own right. 

“I could also just drink jet fuel like I originally asked you for.” 

“Oh hell no, I am not giving jet fuel to a minor no matter what you say. I think you just about cleared out the nearest timmies with how much you ate…” 

Wanker. 

She was still at Vancouver International, having collapsed and everything upon landing the airliner meant that she was virtually forced to stay put by Dragon and Director Hui. Funnily enough, they originally wanted to get her checked out by a medic, but she waved them off, a mechanic would have been way more useful to her. Still, after being cleared from a human medical standpoint, there was still the issue of her…rigging. 

In a nearby hangar away from the rescue operations, she had manifested her actual fighter outside for better inspection of the damage. Thankfully it wasn’t as bad as she first deliriously imagined. It was still dangerous to fly again for sure, but not ‘will explode in mid-air shortly after take-off bad’ levels. The damage was mostly centred on her engines, though a vital part, Magansk Aeronautical Design Bureau planes were always built tougher than their competitors. She was fine, though perhaps a deep overhaul was needed. Zaitsev was not going to be happy, at all. 

“Gotta admit though, feel kinda stupid for thinking your jet girl thing was a joke.” Castle said as he looked at the MG-29 in person. Aside from him, only a few PRT troopers were guarding the entrance of the hanger with her, shooing away curious ground crew. 

“Why a Russian jet? Did it just come with or did you find it?” 

“It came with.” 

“Huh…powers give out military jets these days?” 

Okay, she had to admit that was weird from a Parahuman standpoint. Masters being able to summon things were not rare, but a power that came with a material object, and a jet fighter no less? Taylor would not be surprised if she was a first in that regard. Maybe even a new case file? How did those work in the first place?

Before she could ruminate on it more however, she heard the distinct metal clanking of Dragon’s suit. Turning around, not only was the Tinker walking towards her, but so was Director Hui. 

“Scarlet, good to see you ag-how many timbits did you eat?!” 

Taylor pulled out her mask and placed another one in her mouth before responding. “Not enough.” 

That wasn’t her trying to be rude, but it really was not enough to fill her fuselage back to full. 

“...we’ll get you some jet fuel later.” Like Castle, Director Hui and Dragon had initially balked at giving her jet fuel when she first wanted it, Taylor guessed they finally saw reason. 

“In any case, I believe you will be happy to know that aside from the initial hail strike on the flight, there were no further casualties since you arrived.”  Hearing that from Dragon made her feel a bit more relieved. She was concerned about the rapid descent the airliner originally had, thankfully that had not caused any further injuries. 

“Out of all hundred and fifty-five passengers and crew originally on board, all of them are still alive. Based on my analysis, if you weren’t there, the flight would have gone down in the forest outside of Princeton. You saved all of them, Scarlet.” 

“Flattering.” 

Castle nudged her shoulder a bit. “Oh come on, even I can tell she really meant it, hell, we all do. Don’t sell yourself short kid, you did a hell of a good thing today, most heroes in the PRT don’t get to do, let alone see anything so exciting in their careers.” 

Director Hui chimed in next, a small grin forming on her face as she did so. “He is right about this, despite the action-filled glamour that television likes to portray us as, it is much more mundane than people think. Regardless, though it was caused by one of those hail storms, it was still a one in a million chance of it happening, the important part was you were there to make sure it wasn’t a tragedy. I do have a lot of requests from… people …to talk to you, but I’m sure you don’t want to deal with them, correct?” 

Taylor tilted her head in confusion, but understood what she meant when Director Hui gestured to the fence outside of the hangar. A media circus was encamped outside of the airport fence like moths attracted to a lamp, and she wasn’t sure whether the plane was the lamp or she was. 

“...yes, not particularly interested, no.” 

“I’ll let them know, Castle? Press conference in half an hour, it’s on you.” 

“Why do you do this to me? The things I do for this damn department…” As the head of the Pacific North-West walked away dejectedly, Taylor gave him a half hearted wave of goodbye as well. 

“We’ll get a debrief-statement from you later. I know the medic has cleared you but please seek medical help if you’re feeling any injuries later on. Now, I know you have a grandmother as a guardian, but policy requires me to ask if you have any other guardians we may contact in case you are incapacitated. In other words, do you need to call your parents to pick you up?” 

Parents. Taylor had a parent. However, thinking about that caused her to scoff at Director Hui’s question. “Why would he even…Dad’s in the States and he’s probably asleep by now-nevermind. I don’t, I can get back to Kelowna on my own.” 

She did not miss the look of concern Director Hui gave to her, but ignored it when it wasn’t brought up again. The only interaction the two had was a card and some a gift every once in a while on her birthdays. She knew her father helped pay for her schooling, but that was it. No in person meetings, conversations or anything of that sort. She did know what he looked like, an old photograph of him standing next to a F-4 Phantom in pilot overalls was kept in her wallet always. 

“In that state?” Looking at the MG-29, anyone could see that it wasn’t exactly at pristine condition. Burn marks, primarily on the engine area and wings were evident for them to see. It wasn’t pretty, but the important part was that it could still run fine, long enough for her to get back at least. 

“If I may, Director, I could send one of my suits to escort her back? Just in case she encounters a mechanical failure on the way home. It should not take more than half an hour on cruising speed from here.” 

Despite the reservations shown on Director Hui’s face, she eventually relented not long after. “Fine, just keep in contact on PHO, so we know you made it back safely alright? We’re not sure what your physiology means right now, so small problem on your jet could…” 

Regular humans did not drink jet fuel and be fine afterwards, nor did they take straining amount of G forces on the regular, nor did they carry air-to-air missiles like they did mobile phones. 

“So, am I getting that jet fuel or what?” 

Judging by the scowl Taylor received, that was perhaps not the best thing to ask at that moment. 

Orange. Blazing orange as far as the eye could see. Kelowna was ruined, buildings to ash, roads to charcoal, not a single person alive in sight. At the top of the town was herself. Same red hair, different rigging, one that screamed familiarity, yet was forbidden knowledge to her. She could not speak, or rather, did not speak. 

Her doppleganger, aside from those differences was her unkempt and wild, crimson hair. Upon her flying closer, Taylor realized it was burning. Burning like the world on fire around her. 

She opened her mouth to speak, only to find a lance stuck into her chest. Looking back up, she was no longer looking at her doppleganger, she was looking at herself, holding the very same lance. 

“This is Crimson One, all bogeys eliminated, returning to base.” 

It came from her own mouth, she did not feel anything. 

Jolting up from her bed, Taylor looked down, only to find her familiar blanket covering her. Slowly turning to face the window, Kelowna below her was not on fire. It was fine, tranquil even. 

“A nightmare this time…” 

Her dreams usually did consist of fighting, because that was apparently what that world in particular did all the time. She dreamed of skies from Oceania all the way to the Creole Republic. None of them were particularly offputting however, until now apparently. That shade of orange in the skies, it was the result of Cordium expulsion into the atmosphere, it was the only thing that could cause something of that scale. 

More importantly, it was depicting Kelowna, not Cascadia, not Magadan or anywhere else. It was Kelowna, in this world, her world. That was only a dream however, such a thing was not possible, Cordium after all, did not exist in her world. 

Did it? 

That brief bit of uncertainty was soon taken away by a loud knocking below her. There was a brief pang of annoyance as she thought it was some hotel guest that got lost from the main building. Grandma Abbott ran the Dust Mother Hotel , sure, but couldn’t she have built where they lived further away from it? Every so often some hotel guest was wandering around in front of her window because they got lost, which usually required some shouting of directions by her to shoo them away. This time, however, instead of some tourist or hiker, the knocking turned out to be from Abby. 

“AWAKE NOW?! I’VE BEEN KNOCKING FOR TWENTY MINUTES!” 

“Ugh…” Groaning on the window frame, Taylor had sort of expected this as she and Dragon went back, but to see it happening right in front of her face was….

“Don’t groan on me bitch! You still owe me an explanation sei baat po! ” 

Maybe this time she could bribe her off? She did have Dragon’s autograph that she was totally meaning to give her…

AN: 

Wow gee look at the date, what a short and consistent upload schedule! I do not apologize at all. Happy new year everyone. 

Be civil in the comments below. 

Chapter Text

Waking Dream 1.6 

“...I’ve seen drunkards pilot their jet and come back in a better shape than this, what have you done to her?!” 

Zaitsev held back no words, and indeed, he had some very choice things to say about the current state of the MG-29. A combination of stress on the frame, engine burnout and general overexertion of her flaps were usually enough to make any ground crew crucify the pilot responsible. Doubly so now for Zaitsev, who did not have the luxury of having a ground crew, and was instead handling everything on his own. 

Off to the side, Taylor decided that looking at his toolkit collection was much better than meeting his glare, yes, very nice and polished sets indeed…

“Damn, it sounds like she killed your baby or something…” Abby, who was still clutching that limited edition autograph she got for her commented from the pilot’s seat, finding it particularly comfortable compared to the other seats in the workshop. 

“Pah! She might as well have, do you even know how much of this is fixable?! We’re going to need replacement parts for a lot of these parts, stuff that isn’t readily available on the market in this country. If we were in Eastern Europe then maybe…but I doubt we can find any parts here aside from some collector items.” 

Continuing to fly in that state was going to be a hazard no matter what, the question was whether or not they could fix it in any way. Regarding her damage, her rigging acted as an extension of her own body, and like any body, could naturally heal. Of course, there were limits to that. If a bone was fractured on her body, it would take time to heal, the equivalent could be said to her frame, it would heal, probably. However, how long it could potentially take could be in the weeks to months, a period that she would prefer to not wait in the first place. 

“Just do what you can, Zaitsev, cost is not too much of an issue right now.” As it turned out, having media coverage of her Paratube channel brought in viewers, a lot of them in fact. If this was how celebrities made money, no wonder they could afford all of those large-scale mansions doing what they did. 

Uncharacteristically however, he sighed, rubbing the back of his head as he inspected her engines further. “Money isn’t an issue, because you don’t even have the damn parts, kid. I’m good, but I’m not a miracle worker as you Canadians say. I can ask my contacts, but do not think they will deliver so quickly. Ah…we’re going to have to take apart the engine…” 

Taylor groaned, remembering the first time she helped Zaitsev do that, literally taking hours just to remove one single engine, and she had two, which then had to be re-attatched after he was done. Briefly, she considered hiring her own ground crew, before realising that even her Paratube account wouldn’t cover expenses needed. They were expensive, and that wasn’t even counting the equipment she would have to buy. 

“I don’t see the problem, can’t you just ask Dragon or whatever to help you with it?” Abby asked from the cockpit, looking down at the two in a confused stare. 

“It’s not that simple Abby, help from Dragon is going to attract attention, from the wrong kind of people.” 

“Shit, PRT?” 

“Kinda, it’s still on the table, but i’d prefer doing things on my own so we don’t owe anyone.” 

That was the big trade off, larger organizations had resources to spare, but with that came at a cost. In a sense, she would have owed Dragon something, and with her allegiances, there was no guarantee it wouldn’t have backfired on her. Not that she didn’t trust Dragon herself, but she didn’t want to end up in a situation similar to Canary in any way if she could help it. Best not to take the risk, even if it seemed small. Many a mercenary company operated along similar grounds, having absolute confidence and certainty of what their jobs were, while minimising risk for themselves. 

 “Hm. Not a bad way of thinking, these days who knows what will happen? Old wounds and uncertainty can drag not only you into their messes, but the entire world. Best to keep to ourselves, in our little corner.” 

For a time during the war, everyone thought it would have been the end of everything. Apocalyptic predictions about the end of civilization never came to be, people still panicked of course, and anxiety still remained at large, but when the final treaties were signed and the majority of armies laid down their arms…there was no grand finale. The world still continued, albeit battered and wounded from a century with three World Wars, and countless smaller ones created from them. To Taylor however, it was just another example of bloody history, for she was born after all of them, living in the world created from their consequences. 

Of course, then to add insult to injury, there were the Endbringers, though that was another topic entirely. 

“Ugh, you sound like my Uncle,always talking about this and that, what Canada should do and everything like he’s the Prime Minister.” Abby moaned, causing Zaitsev to snort in response. 

“I make no predictions, only what I think on the matter. Come on, get out of the cockpit and help us, maybe this time we can finish removing the engines before sunset.” 

Shooting one look of help to Taylor, looking for another answer, Abby received none, and began getting up. Halfway down the cockpit from a ladder, she suddenly took out her phone, waving it in front of her for attention. 

“Wait a minute, Taylor, you’re famous now!” 

“I…already was?” She did have half a million, no, seven hundred thousand subscribers now just from last night, so technically she was ‘famous’ if internet fame was even a good metric to judge with. 

“No, idiot, you’re famous worldwide, even my aunt was talking about you, and she lives in China. You know the Prime Minister also thanked you this morning, right? Said it in a press conference, so yeah, you’re pretty fucking famous.” 

In all honesty, Taylor had left the house with Abby soon after she showed up, eager to evade her grandmother before they were dragged in for a chat. For some reason she seemed to like whenever she showed up, and always ended up chatting for hours on end. 

“How does being famous help me exactly?” 

Abby scoffed, as if Taylor had asked a stupid question. “Duh, you can use your clout to ask if anyone has parts now! Come on, please tell me you at least use PHO regularly?” 

She did use PHO, though in comparison to Paratube, she may as well have been neglecting it. The two went hand in hand, if you made a PHO account, you automatically had a Paratube account as well, annoying for some people, but Taylor didn’t care too much about it then. 

“I have an account.” 

“That means you haven’t touched it, okay, it’s fine I can work with this. I’m gonna show you exactly what you can get just by having a lot of followers on the internet, take out your phone.” For some reason, that did not feel like a question to Taylor, but rather, an ultimatum. 

■

Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.
You are currently logged in, Katerina
You are viewing:
• Threads you have replied to
• AND Threads that have new replies
• OR private message conversations with new replies
• Thread OP is displayed.
•  Ten  posts per page
• Last ten messages in private message history.
• Threads and private messages are ordered chronologically.

■

♦ Topic: A New Thread
In: Boards ► Canada ► British Columbia ► Vancouver
Scarlet_IC_01 (Original Poster) (Verified Cape) (Plane Catcher) (Verified Daredevil) (MiG 29 Enthusiast )
Posted On Feb 12th 2011:
Hello,

This is Scarlet, the one who caught the plane last night. I need some replacement parts for a MiG 29. Please let me know if you have some and are willing to sell them.

Also, how do I get rid of personal tags on my account?

►Laotsunn (Kyushu Survivor)
Replied On Feb 12th 2011:
Ain't no way this is real

►ArchmageEin
Replied On Feb 12th 2011:
Is she treating the forum page like the marketboard lmao

we have dedicated market forums and sites for that, why is she asking this here

►Good Ship Morpheus (muted)
Replied On Feb 12th 2011:
>Catches 60+ Ton airliner
>Lands it
>Goes onto the forum the next day asking for spare parts

Guys we were right, she is an old hag

(USER HAS BEEN GIVEN A MUTE FOR THIS POST)
5A: No Harassment. - Tin_Mother

►TheGnat (Cape Groupie) (Darer)
Replied On Feb 12th 2011:
Lol, that may have flown in her Paratube comment section, but not here apparently. PHO people are weak.

►Blasto (Verified Cape) (Boston)
Replied On Feb 12th 2011:
Behaviour on this post aside (it seems to be infested by her fans, why is she insulted so much?!)

I am extremely interested in how your biomechanical body functions, it may prove invaluable to my research in the future. If you're ever in the Boston Area, if you could come in for a quick examination that would be appreciated. I am sending this here because you have PMs disabled, please enable them.

►Reave (Protectorate Employee) (Verified PRT Agent) (ENE Division)
Replied On Feb 12th 2011:
Ew, @Blasto are you hearing yourself rn?!

Please don't go to his clinic, I feel like this shouldn't have to be said but just don't.

►Blasto (Verified Cape) (Boston)
Replied On Feb 12th 2011:
@Revus

I didn't mean it like that you mong. My intentions are purely scientific, unlike you I appreciate good talent when I see it. Didn't your organization reject her application to join the PRT? It seems like you're the one who is being sore right now.

►Sk8rBoy (Verified Cape) (Toronto PRT ) (CA Wards)
Replied On Feb 12th 2011:
...Why are there so many Americans in this thread?

►Lancelot (Verified Cape) (Kingsmen)
Replied On Feb 12th 2011:
@Sk8rBoy

Because my boy, we're in the Anglo side of the internet. Everything is bound to be dominated by the Yanks just by their sheer numbers alone. Suck it up, you're bound to see more of them.

On another note, @Scarlet_IC_01 if you do need some help acquiring parts, our Eastern European partners may be able to help. Do not hesitate to get in touch with us if need be, we could always use another Commonwealth Cape as allies.

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Replied On Feb 12th 2011:
@Lancelot_thebright

God, you're like vultures. This is why we threw the damn tea in the harbour, besides, I'm pretty sure the PRT is already making gestures. Still looking into it people, but my sources tell me something good is cooking up in PRT Cape acquisitions

►Reave (Protectorate Employee) (Verified PRT Agent) (ENE Division)
Replied On Feb 12th 2011:
@Bagrat

For the last time, we don't have such a thing. Who the hell did you even get it from?!

■

Asimov Group Headquarters, Berlin

German Democratic Republic

1700 Local Time

Walking through the stale and sterile halls of the biomaterials lab, Katerina Asimov, otherwise known as ‘Steel Katya’ as her Cape name walked at a slow pace. Her steel soles clanking along the hard ground with every step she took, having long since replaced her natural ones. By her accounts, she had achieved a near 95% replacement of all her original self, the final 5% accounting for important parts of her brain which could not be transferred just yet. 

Progress was being made however, and soon, she could fulfil that goal she promised all those years ago. Walking into the elevator heading upwards, her large siberian bear coat hung just on her shoulders, it was the only piece of clothing she wore. Her shiny metal visage did not exactly make her apply to regular standards of modesty, having long since gotten used to technically being in the nude. She looked like the metal robots from American 1950s science fiction shows, only much more feminine in appearance. 

As the elevator continued going up, it stopped, opening its doors and allowing Katerina to see two researchers about to head inside, only to stop right in their tracks after seeing her. 

“Coming in?”  Her voice came from her synthesizer, giving it slight undertone of graniness seen in older microphones. 

“N-no, Director we would never dare-” The first one was German, judging by his accent. 

“I believe we will take the next one! Apologies, madame.” The second one was Korean, her databanks recorded meeting her in the Material Science lab. 

The two researchers retreated from the elevator, and eventually from view. Letting the doors close automatically, she could not help but inwardly sigh. While those close to her were fine, her subordinates, particularly those who only knew her by reputation were still wary of her. Though she was their boss, a part of her wondered if taking a more human appearance would make it better. Alas, the only human part of her was just her face, keeping it the same in memory of her mother. At least she didn’t have to worry about skincare like some of her friends did, all she had to do in the morning routine was remove her face and wash it, easily doable in ten minutes. 

Looking out of the elevator, she saw Berlin readying itself for another busy night, with streams of cars and trams packed with people towards the nightlife district. Once, she too went partying just like the young did, not long after the capture of West Berlin during the war. Still, the scars of the conflict, at least in Berlin, had long since faded, best not to remember old phantoms. 

The elevator stopped at the top floor, allowing her to exit and enter into the hallway just before her office. Two armed sentry automatons, the same models she commanded during the war made a rudimentary salute, welcoming back their commanding officer. Katerina could have gotten the newest models coming out of the Russian Soviet Republic, but something about these old Soviet Union-era models felt more reliable. Probably because they were so old that none could easily hack into them now, just like her in some ways. 

The decor was largely unchanged from the Warsaw Pact era, it having been the former headquarters of the Soviet Army Group in East Germany, it was decorated in the distinct art-deco inspired style found all over during the 80s. Her secretary, Ilan, had already been waiting next to her desk with a fresh stack of files, each with her name on it waiting to be approved. There was no rest for someone as busy as her, though she did bring this on herself, there were none to complain towards. 

“Director, I have our latest updates. Shall I start with most important to least?” 

Taking a seat at her desk, she wordlessly gestured to Ilan, who cleared his throat before beginning to lay files in front of her. 

“The SED General Secretary has asked to meet with you specifically, it appears that he will accept your proposal. Though this must still go through the Chancellor, I have taken the liberty of updating any notes regarding him.” 

She scoffed, the SED should have abolished that position after their victory back then, not merge the two governments for better stability. Now, they had to deal with a large opposition every election, so much for socialist unity. 

“I thought you should know, but Die Meister are negotiating with Pyongyang for joint training. The South Korean department head wants assurances this will not impact her own operations in the North.” 

Maybe reintegration of the two Koreas was actually going to be an issue, not that they had a choice anyway. With their nominal allies, the Communist Chinese reduced to a third of its original size, their position was much less secure now that the South entered into a mutual defence treaty with Japan. Though unpopular with the public, it provided both nations a relative degree of security in a time when the United States could no longer do it. Besides, the Kim family was long dead, and their new government would not last for very long until the next election cycle. 

“And finally, you asked me to keep an eye on the Vancouver air accident, this development should interest you.” 

He laid down one final file, this time tagged with the file name of Subject: Scarlet. 

“It appears that she is in need of new fighter plane parts, should I instruct Mikoyan to reach out to her?” 

Katerina did not say a word, instead flipping through the compiled report so far. She had her eye on Scarlet for a while, first notified of her through Asimov Group POI searches, and then through the exploits in her Paratube videos. Anyone who could pull of that many G forces in a suit without blanking out meant either she was an advanced Tinker, or her Brute rating was strong enough to handle it. Katerina did not believe either of them, instead suspecting that there was something else to her, the fact that her so-called ‘rigging’ resembled one of the Asimov Group’s subsidiary fighter jets was also of interest to certain people in the company. 

A hunch, or gut feeling told her that those orange specks of light from her engines was similar to odd energy readings they recorded in the Magadan Oblast. Of course, that was simply based on eyewitness accounts and local legends, no way to be sure unless they compared the two. 

“No, not yet. I will compose the letter myself, ensure that her actions are monitored, I want to know what other groups are interested in her. I will get these done by tonight, enjoy your night, Ilan.” 

Waiting until he had left, she swivelled her chair around to look at the street below her. Though winter was about to pass, and the first signs of spring were around the corner, she couldn’t help but wonder if the next winter was going to be even colder. The Endbringers combined efforts have not only reduced many cities to rubble, but they have also targeted how humankind produced energy. From attacks on oilfields, such as Behemoth’s first appearance to the Simurgh sometimes targeting Nuclear Power plants and Leviathan sinking entire islands, not having enough fuel to last winters was a common enough problem anywhere around the world. 

Thus, those that still had steady forms of energy production, undisturbed by either wars or Endbringer retained a large amount of power, which at this point were both the United States and the Russian Soviet Republic. Both had their strength wiped however, losses from the war meant that they were unable or unwilling to pour that much into weapons again, instead taking them for Parahuman efforts or investing domestically. The world was going into a downward spiral, and the best governments could do right now was to convince their citizens that it was not. 

The world needed solutions, not fantastical heroes in spandex. For all the might the Triumvirate held, they didn’t exactly solve any issues that weren’t directly Parahuman related. But then again, the United States was the only country which had anything remotely close to NEPEA-5, so maybe being odd was part of being an American. 

Taking one last look at Scarlet’s file, she set it down, and simply let her mind wander through old memories. One in particular stood out, when she was young, with her father and giving a presentation at school. She remembered the last line she said very well, having stuck with her throughout these tumultuous decades. 

“To the happiness of all mankind.” 

AN: 

How do teenagers talk? Well, it’s an alternate 2011, so any lingo we know is definitely going to be different, so I’m playing it safe. Besides, I was a teenager just a scant few years ago, not that much different compared to me now. If a boomer heard me talk to my friends he’d probably explode. Helps mask my identity as well, I sure as hell don’t talk like this to anyone in public or online. 

Be civil in the comments below.