Battle Vixens! - 52

First / Previous / Next / Latest

---

Episode 52: All the Black Pawns

The drive to the city was long, but it would be worth it today. After repeatedly being told not to get his hopes up, Marcus was finally invited to—well, not exactly their headquarters but at least someplace run by the VI for an in-person interview, and "maybe some tests". Until and unless they actually rejected him, his hopes were firmly in the "up" position. The world was on the brink of ending, and this nerd was going to—possibly—have a chance to be a part of the group trying to stop it.

He hadn't lied on the physical examination. Well—that wouldn't have done any good anyway, he'd signed off on giving them access to his medical records. There wasn't that much there, just that he was an overweight loser (more or less) at risk of an early-ish heart attack. But for the moment, he was still young and maybe there was time to prevent that. It didn't seem like his physical prowess was what they were after anyway. It was hard to tell what they wanted, from all the questions in the interviews. Like, there had to be twenty of had he ever wished he could...? and at least ten different versions of what would he do if he could...?

The rock station he listened to on the road had a DJ in the morning who occasionally interrupted with news about the black monsters' attacks and the VI's heroics. It was through that medium that, about halfway through his trip, Marcus learned that Dawn had been killed. The car was filled with words of anger and disappointment for the next few minutes or so, before he settled down and focused on the road again. It wasn't too crowded this time of day—just a bit before lunchtime—but it never hurt to be at least a little careful, right?

After checking the mirrors and looking well ahead, Marcus turned his attention to the peripheral for just a moment. Were there any deer about to jump out into his headlights—well, no, they were off right now, but—figuratively speaking? No, but...was that a person up ahead on the left side of road? Two, three, five people? There was something a little...off about them, he thought. As he came closer, it was increasingly clear why. First: No clothes. Second: None of the—let's say—features of a human being which a lack of clothes would be expected to reveal, either? Third—and this as he came right next to them and passed them by—no faces. Skin like plastic.

Okay, that wasn't normal, mannequins on the road? Marcus had time to think this just briefly before he instinctively checked his rear-view mirror once more and saw them walking across the street behind his car, to the other side. It wasn't a monster; they weren't attacking him or his car after all, and even politely waited for him to pass before crossing. So...what was it? Well, it was definitely weird, and that was enough for him. Marcus grabbed at his phone, committing a small driver's sin for the sake of hopefully being a helpful person for once in his life.

"911, what's your emergency?"
"Uh, hey, there's..like, walking mannequins? On the road? Just..like...going across it," Marcus said, feeling that he sounded increasingly stupid with every word.
"Where are you, sir?" The operator sounded serious. Now that was probably a change, he thought; a couple of weeks ago this kind of call would be ignored or laughed off, or at worst result in a policeman showing up at the caller's house to search it for drugs. He quickly rattled off the name of the road he was on, and the last mile marker he remembered seeing.

There was a short pause. Then: "How many did you see?"
"Uh-umm. Like five or six, I think, they were behind me and there's a lot of trees so—" he cut off as his car crested a hill over a relatively clear patch of land. "Uhhh. Scratch that, I just—I'm right next to like, gotta be twenty or thirty of 'em at least. They're just...standing there, waiting for my car to pass, and then...crossin' the road."

There was a substantially longer pause than before. Marcus wasn't sure if his call had been dropped or if he should say something else, and just when he was about to ask, a new voice on the other end said, "Listen carefully. Whatever you do, do not engage them or interact with them in any way. Get away from them and reach your destination as quickly as you safely can."

"Uh—o-okay. Got it," he said, nodding to nobody.

"Thank you for your report. Be safe." The new voice hung up, leaving Marcus with just the sound of the radio again.

---

Chandra was in Frank's office again, along with his secretary. Her computer was on one side of his desk, turned toward the center of the desk where those present could more or less see it, displaying a rudimentary heat map. "They seem to be split into two distinct groups, one headed for us and the other toward them," she said, pointing at the city on the map, then Light's town. "It's tough to tell how many repeat-counts we're getting from different callers, but even our lowball estimates...aren't good. Even unarmed, that many is too much for all the law enforcement agents we've got available in either town."

Frank nodded seriously, furrowing his brows. "Still no violent action?"

She shook her head. "One caller a few minutes ago said he'd shot a few down before they got a hold of his rifle and tossed it to one side, and then just shoved him over and walked away."

He shook his head and sighed. "Got their sights set on a seige. It's not inconceivable that she's been distracting us with the imitation powers, all the while getting this ready to go."

"What I don't understand is what she wants now," Chandra said. "If she just wanted to kill people she'd be doing it. This seems like the windup to a, threat or an ultimatum."

"I suppose we can only wait and see. But—if there's going to be an attack on this scale..."

Frank turned to his secretary. "I think we'll need more than just our trump card."
"Sir." Opal nodded, dialing a number before handing him the receiver.
"...Corporal."

---

Emma left class early in a state of confusion and worry. Thankfully, at least one friendly face was waiting out in the halls. "Amory! What's going on?" she said, half-running over to him.
"You, haven't seen the news?" he said.

"No...one minute we're talking about Shakespeare, a-and the next thing I know they're evacuating the school!"

"Well, ah..this." He turned his phone screen where she could see a video cutting from one clip to another, one shaky phone camera to another, and one or two distant traffic copter's in the middle. Each view showed several faceless puppets trudging along. "This is what's going on. I guess the puppeteer decided to really show her hand."

"Are they..attacking people? Can we, do anything about it?" she said as quietly as she could manage—although most of the other students had already filed out of this part of the school, and those left weren't paying attention to the two of them.

"Not yet." He dropped the phone back to his side. "And, I thought I'd pick you up before heading to the graduate lounge to meet with everyone else. Maybe get a conference call through to Rowan or somebody over there. It's our town and the city they're starting to surround," Amory said.

"L-let's go then," she said, giving what felt like at least a somewhat determined nod. Comperehending the sheer number—the magnitude of their enemy's actual power—was terrifying, but not in a way that compelled her to run. If anything, the terror was in the knowledge that, one way or another, she was going to go out there and fight someone with such power.

He led the way out of their present building and toward the proposed meeting place. It didn't take long for them to encounter an empty hallway. "Do you, um. Know about what else has happened today?" Amory asked with a touch of nervousness.
"No. I..I was, busy this morning," she said sheepishly, dreading any request for further clarification. "And then I came straight to class..."
He took a deep breath inward, and let it out: This was bad news. "She got Dawn."
"No..." Emma's expression deflated—if it was possible—further than before. "How? She was.."
"She just suddenly decided to leave and confront her, alone. The...going theory is that she convinced her to do it."
"Why?" She pulled her glasses off for a second with one hand and wiped some tears off with the opposite sleeve. "She..didn't deserve that. It..I only met her once, but.."
"I'm sorry I have to tell you," Amory said quietly.

"No, no..it's..." Emma sniffed loudly, and then tried to salvage a bit of dignity with a deep inward breath, restraining herself from crying any harder. "It's my own fault. I get so wrapped up in my own stuff, I don't really..pay attention to the rest of the world sometimes. I should've known about it already, by now. Right?"

"I wouldn't say 'should have'," he said gingerly. "I really wish we didn't need to know about it. Or better, it wasn't happening."

"Y-yeah.."

---

The phone on the desk rang. Sitting in front of it was a tall, older man in military uniform. His dark hair was graying at the edges and he sported a few wrinkles, but he looked to be in pretty good shape for someone in his early forties—if you didn't count the prosthetics taking the place of his right leg from the thigh down, at least. His piercing, bright green eyes watched the phone ring once or twice before he leaned up toward it, reaching forward and picking up the receiever. "Frank."

"Corporal. Isn't this the base commander's office?"

"That it is. He's just stepped out for a moment." The corporal took a moment to pull the chair closer so he could keep the old, corded phone on him without constantly leaning forward. "I was wondering when you might call."
"You're aware of the situation." Neither side elaborated on or responded to this, which amounted to a confirmation. Frank took a deep breath and exhaled again, just enough into the receiver for it to be heard on the other end. "How likely do you think it is we can get mobilization?"

"That would be what the base commander is busy with right now."
"Really."
"You are aware we're in a declared state of emergency. Martial law isn't exactly in effect, but the military has been granted just a little autonomy to help deal with 'extraordinary threats' as they arise," the corporal said. "If this ain't one of those, I don't know what is. Now, I imagine you have a better sense of the numbers than we do at the moment. I have been given command of a pad and a pen to take down any logistics we need to know about. While you're at it, maybe you can get Officer Shepherd to recommend a deployment for me as well."

"Of course." There was a pause which both sides understood a nod to be occupying. "I'll hand you over to Chandra, then."

---

All of the vixens still alive in the city gathered in a single conference room. Rowan, currently in fox form, got out her phone, set it on the table in front of her, and sat quietly waiting for a minute or two longer. Simon leaned slightly toward her. "So ah...what're we waiting on?" he asked—almost exactly in time for the phone to ring from an unfamiliar number. The blue-haired vixen snapped it up to the side of her head, answering the call right away.

"Hello, Rowan." A couple of the others already in fox-ears recoiled slightly, showing signs of stress, sadness or outright rage. She was—predictably—using Dawn's voice for this. Rowan herself did not so much as flinch. "Do you, see now, what I am capable of? I know, you have your, army. You understand: I have, mine."

"Tobias Mond. What do you want."
"Do you, really want me, to say? I would, cut off, anyone listening if, they...shouldn't know." There was a brief pause—the puppeteer maybe thought they were tracing the call. Rowan had determined this was unnecessary—and likely to be useless; she was smart enough to use a burner phone and a good long walk away from her real location for a call like this anyway. "I, want, her. Who makes us, strong. Who woke, the sleeping."

There was a brief look around—not even everyone who could hear the call knew what she was talking about. Simon, who did, mouthed 'how does she know?!', which Rowan just held up a hand to, shaking her head. She had a guess as to the answer of that, but it was really an irrelevant question right now.
"This one, was very rowdy, you know? Bring her, to the bit of, the forest she, blew up. If she will, come to me, quietly, then my puppets, will leave you, alone. If you, do not, they will kill, and destroy, everything in their path. Beginning, one hour, from now."

"Do you believe that's long enough for her to even physically reach that location?" Rowan asked, in a coldly neutral tone of voice.
"I don't, care. That's what, your army is, for. Isn't it?" The phone hung up at this point.

Rowan set the phone down again. For the benefit of those who didn't have all of the information, or hadn't overheard the call, she said: "She wants Amp, the individual whose power awoke everyone the monsters put into comas. Amp is also capable of temporarily enhancing the power of any other vixen."
"Well—that's...she can't have her, right?" Zeno said. "We don't negotiate with terrorists and stuff, right?"
"Now we know what she wants, what she has, what she's planning, and where she is." Rowan said, pulling up the VI app and going through the contacts. "That means we can form a plan." She patched in Frank, then Dr. Rory Quinn, and then set the phone into a waiting dock with speakers and a microphone that would allow all present to hear and speak effectively with the other callers.

In the university's graduate lounge, Rory took a moment to put her phone on speaker, just after hearing some clicks on the other end. A man's voice came through which none in that room quite recognized: "Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Frank Smith. It seems that all of the cards are on the table, so we can finally see who really has the better hand."
"We have one hour before she begins the attack," Rowan reported. "Less, depending on how good her word is."

"Time is short, then. But there should enough time for a few introductions." Frank had patched in the commander of the military base nearby; he briefly introduced himself as such before going quiet. Everyone in the lounge except for the Quinns was in vixen form, and introduced themselves using those names—Light, Gemma (in her 'combined' form), Ning and Amp. Some of the empowered ones with Rowan followed suit, one or two—including Simon—introducing with both their "hero" names and real names.

"I assume that Tobias—our puppeteer—made demands, then," Frank said.
"She knows about Amp," Rowan reported. "I think this is the Giver's doing. Wants her dropped off where Dawn was murdered."

In the lounge, a few concerned expressions were turned her way; the fluffy vixen only tilted her head slightly, muttering a slight "Oh."

"Her 'soldiers' have a very slow method of transit, so she hasn't finished surrounding either town just yet," the base commander said. "We have everyone available en route, and a significant advantage in weaponry based on what we've seen so far. The numbers still don't look good, however."

"She will almost certainly send some of the puppets wielding stolen power," Rowan said. "Hide them among the 'normal' ones. Some will probably stay with her—and at least one will go to await Amp. It is important to consider which ones. It is to be expected that the one which can teleport will remain with her, in case this gambit fails and an escape route is necessary. Strategically speaking, at least one capable of harming large groups of people at once should be expected in each location, and one of low combat usefulness is likely to be assigned to wait."

"She has access to at least three different puppets that can detect past my illusions," Light said. "Probably—one will be in each location. Maybe the one with the blindfold waiting for Amp in case I try to come with her—it's strong, but it only has melee attacks."

"Fire and shadow are excellent crowd control," Rowan continued. "One to each location. Dawn—possibly to remain with her, as you say.

"The wind and the plant powers are the other two most likely for crowd control. Plant may not work well with fire, and wind seems to 'cancel' lightning. So that pair at least is likely approaching your location, Light."

"So—we need to decide who's going after her, then," Amp said. "Right?"
"Correct. Ideally, we should leave some crowd control behind in each town, and a group who can deal with the powers we expect to see...but we need a strong team to fight against her and her puppets, as well. I nominate myself and Light, firstly—as the most skilled and experienced at fighting other vixens, respectively."
"'Experienced'?" Simon cut in, but was presumably waved off.
"Both of us also have capabilities which are effective against a large group if she's keeping some of the 'normal' puppets in reserve for defense. Additionally, if we can disable the elements able to sense through her powers, Light's illusions would be invaluable for catching her off-guard. Gemma would be also be ideal for overall versatility, especially in case some of our predictions were incorrect."

"Ahem," Rory said. "The two of us should come along, too. She seemed real interested in my power the last time I fought one of her puppets, so I could make a decent distraction. And my husband's a healer, which is pretty important to have in enemy territory, right?"
"...Agreed."
"I want to stay here," Ning stated. "I..I'm sorry if it's selfish or unhelpful, but..."
"I understand. You should anyway—we've, volunteered everyone else in your group to the strike team," Rowan realized aloud.

"Some extra support is coming your way from us," the base commander cut in.

"Our trump card," Frank added. "Powers should work very well alongside electricity, I think."

"Two more should be sent, then," Rowan said, "from us."

"I'd rather stay here, if it's the same to you," Simon said. "I mean..all my stuff is here."
"We need you here to fight large groups anyway," Rowan said with just a hint of a sigh. After a brief moment of further discussion, Tora and Fay were decided on to head over.

"Question," Clark said, interrupting the flow of conversation for the first time. "How are we carting people around, exactly?"
"Got some trasport choppers ready to go," the base commander said.
"Okay. And...if we use one of those to go to puppeteer, how exactly do we prevent her from hearing that and just teleporting far away? Or, if we drop out a ways off and then walk the rest of the way—same question, given she can see or 'sense' us even if Light's trying to hide us."

"Um...I can mute sound," Gemma volunteered.
"A chopper?" said Rory.
"Not, like this. But...I think I could with um..help." She glanced in Amp's direction, and received a reassuring nod in return.

"I can make any other vixen temporarily more powerful," Amp said. "It's a...very short range effect, but the results can be pretty impressive. I'm not surprised she wants me if she knows what I can do, but I wonder whether she knows all of my powers."

"What, there are others?" Simon said. "I mean, besides...?"
"Well, I'm very difficult to hurt. Different reason from Rory—the shadow monsters literally can't touch me, and nobody 'feels' like they want to attack me. But vixens especially—can't raise a hand against me," Amp said with a confident grin. "Their magic can't hurt me, either. As another answer to Dr. Quinn's question—she won't feel very inclined to leave if she thinks she's so close to 'having' me."

"You sound like you have a plan," Frank commented.
"Bring me along and set me where I can walk the rest of the way to where she wants me," Amp said. "After I use my power on everyone I can, I mean. I'll present myself, she might stop the attack at least for a second or two and let her guard down while she has her puppet or puppets start leading me to her. If she does call off the attack for a second, the defenders can take advantage of that to thin her ranks by just keeping up the attack. Then—you strike, and so do I. I can't actually attack, but I do have a way of 'taking away' power just as I can enhance it. It'll probably get rid of whatever puppet she has 'escorting' me right then and there, so it can't come back to help her..well, depending on how it all works I'd say at least not right away. One less that can sense through Light's illusions, more than likely."

"That seems like a solid plan overall," Frank said. "Let's talk logistics for a moment. The base is closer to us than they are to you. So, we'll send everyone on the strike team and support for your town your way, and then the rest of the strike team loads and heads out. Think that'll work?"

After working out several more details, including the precise placement of the vixens defending each town from the puppets to coordinate with the troops and police forces, the call was eventually hung up so everyone could get ready. Once Opal nodded to her boss that they were off the line, he said, "Hope you don't mind my borrowing your last name for the time being. I've been advised not to share my full identity with everyone just yet, but I had to introduce myself somehow."
"Heh. Quite alright, sir."

---

Man, this bit of the story is difficult to write. Think I've held onto most of this episode for half a year at this point, but the next part is what really makes me nervous. SO many moving parts to track. And trying to describe military stuff makes me especially nervous as I have basically zero knowledge when it comes to that, so a lot of it will probably be terribly incorrect.