Grue glanced down at Bitch, who was rubbing her chin, opening her jaw wide, as if testing it.

“Does this thing still work…?”

I dropped down to a crouch so quickly that my knee slammed into the ground.  I grabbed the upper end of the baton and pulled it over Bitch’s head, forcing the bar between her teeth, pulling back hard.

Eesh. If Taylor keeps it up like this, it might not.

Grue moved to stop me once more, and I shook my head.  He hesitated, then stopped.

He seems to trust Taylor enough that he figures this is justified in some way and sees that Taylor needs to take out her anger… that or he just doesn’t want to get caught in the crossfire for trying to intervene.

Bentley was pacing towards me, snarling at the attack on his owner.  I met his gaze with my own, unflinching, and he didn’t lunge to attack, maybe because he didn’t want to hurt his master in the process.  I didn’t break eye contact with the dog as I spoke with the swarm buzzing in accompaniment, “Regent, this isn’t for Shadow Stalker’s ears.”

I wonder if Taylor ever got around to buying a book on dog psychology after all. Maybe during the two weeks after the Leviathan attack?

Then again, she’s spent enough time with Rachel to start picking up some of these things naturally, on top of online research.

“Got it,” Regent spoke.  Shadow Stalker moved to the bench by the elevators, sat down, and buried her face in her arms, covering her ears.

Regent informed me, “She can’t hear much of anything, now.”

Shadow Stalker, internally: “Fuck, I was curious…”

I was already standing, barely feeling the hurt from where I’d been grazed.  Blood pounded in my ears, and I could feel the buzz of my insects.

You really shouldn’t fight right now.

“How-” she started.  I didn’t let her finish.  My baton held in both hands, I struck her in the upper thigh.  When she didn’t fall, I let go of the baton and backhanded her.  She toppled, and protests and shouts echoed around me.

Well, here we go.

And of course Regent, Imp and Grue have no idea where that came from.

Also I thought she just said the baton was stuck to the glove? I guess she spent the ten minutes peeling it loose.

It hurt.  Damn it, I’d never really hit someone with my hands before.  I wondered if I’d managed to break something.

Ouch.

There were still bugs on some of my teammates.  I could sense them approaching, Grue and Imp moving to stop me.  I ducked out of the way of their hands before they could grab me, and then held up my baton, menacing them.

“Uh-uh! Don’t you dare stop me now.”

I cast a momentary glance towards Shadow Stalker, then augmented my voice with the buzzing and chirping of my swarm, “Don’t.”

It’s worth noting that Regent and his puppet already don’t seem to be trying to do anything. Maybe Regent has a sort of understanding that there’s probably a good reason for this?

“What the hell are you doing!?” Grue roared.

“Ask her,” my response was barely above a growl.

So, Bitch, what do you have to say for yourself?

“No.  Your gun thing there saved my skin.  The real problem was…” I trailed off.  I still had the baton in my hand – the residual containment foam meant I’d probably have to peel the glove away from the weapon.  I clenched the weapon tight.

Whoops.

The real problem was Bitch, right?

We sat in silence for nearly ten minutes before the rest arrived as a massed group.

I guess Taylor decided she didn’t want or need to finish that sentence, and Lisa decided not to push Taylor on it.

Shadow Stalker was limping, and two of the dogs were their normal size, draped across Bentley’s back, but everyone was more or less intact.

I like that they’re still taking Shadow Stalker with them. She can continue to be an advantage for as long as Regent can sustain control… which seems like it might be indefinitely, but I wouldn’t be surprised if sleeping (or getting knocked out) cuts the bond. Maybe they’ll have Shadow Stalker locked up somewhere (electrified, naturally) while Regent sleeps, or something.

Bitch’s eyes widened fractionally as she saw me.

What’s up, Bitch? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. 😉

Tattletale and I made our escape.  We got three blocks away before we found a spot to hide.  Tattletale got out her phone and began sending messages, presumably to Grue and Coil.

Grue seems a bit preoccupied at the moment, though maybe he managed to get the others out by the time they’d ran three blocks.

Our hiding place was the lobby of an apartment building.  Boards had been placed over the windows, and there were signs that some people had camped out here, not long ago.  It was otherwise similar to Grue’s apartment complex.  Less tidy, obviously.

Heh, yeah, abandonment tends to do that to a place.

“You okay?” Tattletale asked me.

“That question seems to come up a lot.”

Hearing that is an occupational hazard. 😛

“I’m sorry.  I knew the gun would inevitably overheat, and what little I could read off of Dragon told me she’d deal with that above anything else.  I didn’t think you’d be stuck there, too.”

Makes sense.

That said… I’m beginning to notice what might be a habit of Tattletale’s: to take risks that affect others without asking or informing them. See for example her gamble on Taylor not betraying them, in which she voluntarily put the other Undersiders at great risk of having a lot of information about them volunteered to the Protectorate, without informing them of a tidbit that massively increased that risk.

Then again, I can’t actually think of other instances of this off the top of my head, and this instance is excusable by way of limited time, hostile ears and that she apparently didn’t think of the possibility that Taylor would be stuck there. So maybe it’s way too early to call “pattern!” on this one.

I supposed that would be another benefit of using the smoke.  If you didn’t expect to be able to see, then it didn’t hurt to deny your enemy that same privilege.  Miss Militia had been thinking about this.

I suppose Taylor does have an established pattern of going for the eyes.

If her team wasn’t so sparse on members, she could have done a lot more damage.

Yeah, that’s probably true.

“My bugs are telling me they’re over there, there and there,” I pointed in the direction of our teammates.  “That’s all I can do for you.  I kind of got shot, not sure I’m up to running around.”

Fair. Grue?

His head snapped around to face me, “Shot?”

Yeah, that’s a bit of a high-priority concern.

“I’m okay, it was nonlethal.  I think,” I assured him, “Go!”

He did, glancing over his shoulder to look at me before disappearing back into the midst of the darkness.

My shipping of Brian and Taylor has largely subsided ever since the rejection, but there’s still a part of me that’s shouting about how much Brian seems to care about Taylor in this moment. Even though most people would show a similar level of concern if their (tentative) friend and teammate told them they just got shot.

Tattletale fumbled around and found me in the darkness, clasped her hand around the same hand I held the baton with, and helped me to my feet.  She gave me her support as we limped away.  Nothing seemed to be broken, judging by what I felt.

That’s good.

Well… if nothing else, this means Taylor won’t be in any shape to take on Bitch physically anytime soon. Not sure if that’s a good thing.

The darkness disappeared after we’d traveled across the street.  Grue greeted us.  “Dragon?”

“Oh she turned out to just be a weird fetus and then it self-destructed but she told me she’d be in touch so that wasn’t really her anyway that’s my day how’s yours?”

“Kaput, thanks to Tattletale,” I spoke.

Thanks to– ah, right, because Tattle’s the one who brought the zappy gun and made it go haywire.

He looked back the way we’d come, “Damn that smoke.  Listen, Tattletale, head down this street, wait for us.  Skitter and I are going back in to find and retrieve the others.”

…hm. That includes Bitch. Taylor might restrain herself, but Bitch is a known master of “not the time”, and I’m not sure how Grue’s going to take it if Bitch is visibly surprised and angered to see Skitter again, or if Taylor does come in with some choice words for Bitch.

Either way, probably not gonna like it.

Before she could shoot again, I directed my bugs to her hands and eyes, hoping to incapacitate her.

Yeeah, might wanna avoid a repeat.

I still had a small few of the capsaicin-loaded bugs, and sent them all her way.

Niice. Gonna be a bit trickier to shoot straight with spicy hands and spicy eyes.

As hard as it was to see in the smoke, there was still faint light.  That light disappeared the instant Grue used his power.

Well, at least you won’t reveal your location again with cries of pain.

And I suppose the smoke would dissipate after not too long, so something more controllable is good.

Miss Militia was staggering and reeling as her hands and face lit up with stings and burns.  The gun wasn’t in her hands anymore, which meant we weren’t at risk of getting shot.

Nice.

I sent more bugs across to the other members of the Protectorate, to try to disable them.

That would probably be rather helpful.

I like this capsaicin trick, it seems quite effective.

Much as I might have warned Tattletale and the others, I’d also informed Miss Militia on my location.  I turned to run, but she was already raising her gun to fire with an ear-shattering crack.

Better hope that your suit is bulletproof, even if she is using rubber bullets.

From the way it cut past my bugs, and the wake of disturbed air the pellets left behind them I could only guess she’d just grazed me with a shotgun.  I collapsed sideways to the ground, and the pain came a heartbeat later, radiating over half of my upper body, from my shoulder to my right butt cheek.

Ouch.

I was guessing it was nonlethal ammunition – it could well have been lethal, for the sheer degree of hurt it delivered, if my costume had prevented it from penetrating.

I take that to mean the costume didn’t stop them. Well, that’s one question answered that’s been lingering ever since Gestation 1.2!

If she’d been intending to use the smoke to screw with my insects, she’d underestimated my power.

Ah, fair enough!

I canceled out the instincts and sent the bugs through the smoke, blind, feeling out for her.  I found her running towards us, through the smoke.

“She’s coming!” I shouted.

And since Miss Militia can’t see through the smoke, she’s now at a disadvantage much like the one Grue would impose, except without the suppressed sound and oily characteristics of the darkness.

In retrospect, that was a mistake.

Case in point, Taylor just gave away her position.