Kevin Curry
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Scientific Chronicles 10
🕑 Added 2025-10-19 01:10:11 +0000 UTCMadame Gkikkas was a tourist pub, themed after the infamous jagermonsters of the old Heterodynes. As it was still morning, it ‘merely’ had a rousing breakfast service. Local girls dressed up as Jagermonsters, with fake teeth, claws, and horns to sell the illusion, with the occasional bit of heavy makeup.
It also had parking for mecha, which was considerate of them. “Ho! Itz been a vile sinze ve see sometink like dot.” Said one of the jagergirls, one who was smoking in the small parking section.
“Thank you.” Tanya said politely, “I made it myself. Now, who do I need to pay off to make sure no one tries to strip it for parts?”
The Jagergirl whistled, and an eight year old boy wearing armor and carrying a spear came out. “What?” He asked.
“De Lady vants to pay protektion money.” The jagergirl explained.
“Oh!” The boy exclaimed, “That’ll be one castlemark.” He said, holding out a palm.
Cheap. “How much for the day?” Tanya asked, cutting away the most obvious dodge.
“Three.” He said immediately. Tanya paid the boy. “No one’s gonna touch your super cool armor here, no ma’am!” He said, saluting. “I swear on the honor of the 17th district pickpocket alliance!”
“Fantastic.” Tanya said, “It’s booby-trapped too, so anyone who tries is going to get hurt.” She warned, before stepping fully out of her mecha and putting it into lockdown. “You don’t want to know what I did to the Parisian spark that tried to strip my baby for parts…” She patted the Absolute Safety Mecha Mk. IV fondly. “But I recorded his screams, if you’d like to hear them.” She said, looking the child in the eye with sadistic intent.
The child gulped. The jagergirl laughed. “Don’t let yer grandpa hear about you gettink zo scared by a little ting like dot, Miido.” She patted his helmet and lightly shoved him. “Go on, warn the rest of the little munchkins.”
Tanya coughed. “A little bit of intimidation goes a long way, I find.” Tanya said. At least, it did if you weren’t bluffing. “Now, I’m new in town, and I’d like some accommodations. May I speak to the Madame?” She was planning on sleeping in the mecha, but she’d at least want to see if she could get some assurance of security wherever she ended up parking it; the main thoroughfares could handle her machinery just fine, but she’d struggle to properly experience Mechanicsburg from inside the thing.
“She’s asleep.” The jagergirl said immediately, her jager accent slipping a bit. “You’ll need to wait ‘till lunch, sveethart.” Given how late the place had its operating hours, it did make sense that the proprietress would have her beauty sleep this time of day…
Drat. “Well, do you know anything about the glassworks?” Tanya asked.
“I don’t.” The jagergirl said, “But Tina does. Come on, my break’s over. Get the cheezy snailbowl, itz goot.”
“Lead the way.”
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After a delicious meal of Orange Snap-shell snails, organs removed, filled with cheese, breaded, then baked into a citrusy, cheesy delight, along with some honey-drizzled egg toast, Tanya got into a conversation about how one would go about getting an appointment with the Mechanicsburg master glassmakers.
While Tina was a bit evasive at first, when Tanya explained about her weak relationship to the Heterodynes, she became a bit more interested. Apparently, in order to get a meeting in a reasonable time frame, she needed to get herself an introduction from an influential Mechanicsburger. Not entirely unanticipated, if disappointing. Fortunately, Mamma Gkikka was one of those people.
Still, the festive atmosphere of the pub, even if it was relatively sedate at this time of day, allowed her to quiz Tina, whose uncle was one of those master glassmakers, on the types of silicates that the masters worked with. She brought her own monocrystalline silicon boules for her current needs, but it’d make things so much easier if they could make more with their own tools instead of her needing to tend her elemental molecularizer to make them. The machine was temperamental, and it was delicate work…
Eventually, Tanya’s wolf-whistling the performer on stage was interrupted. “Zo, I hear little gurl vants to tok to me?” Came a powerful, yet feminine voice from behind her. It was electrifying. Turning around, Tanya beheld Jager General Gkikka, and her heart skipped a beat.
Back on Castle Wulfenbach, the jagers were constantly talking about how desirous they found Madame von Pinn. It’s not that Tanya disagreed that she was attractive, it’s just… she was a bit too sharp, in Tanya’s personal opinion. There was a balance to be had, between silk and steel, to make the ideal woman. Von Pinn was too much steel, not enough silk for her tastes.
Mamma Gkikka, on the other hand… Wowza. Intellectually, she knew that the Jagermonster before her was far more dangerous than the childcare-obsessed construct could ever be, but unlike the violent blonde, this mature lady…
Well, the jagermonsters all agreed that Mamma was the most beautiful lady jager, and Tanya agreed. “The tales of your beauty have failed to do you justice, Madame.” Tanya said. Her time in Paris gave her plenty of practice in flattering women on small amounts of brainpower.
“Izzat so?” Mamma Gkikka asked, pleased at the compliment but also confused.
“Like an armory hidden inside a wedding cake.” Tanya quoted. “Sweetness and mayhem all at once.” So much like Visha…
Any apprehension on Tanya’s compliment vanished. “Tenk you. Now, if youze just here to make vit de sveet tolk, vy did you ask so early in ze morning?”
Wait, she needed a reason? Tanya’s brain decided to finish rebooting. Oh right! “Ah, well, while I did want to see the grand beauty that my friends on Castle Wulfenbach told me about,” Tanya said, coughing to clear her throat. “I also wanted to secure accommodations and a meeting with a master glassworker.”
“Ve don’t have rooms.” Mamma said, shutting it down.
“Yes, the licensing of the burgermeister can be annoying.” Tanya said, “But I heard you had a place that was technically not in the town?” This was a code. As appropriate for a code invented by jagermonsters, it had very little metaphor, and was entirely based on how you phrased things. “Last I heard, my good friend Porcus rented a place for a while.”
Mamma Gkikka smiled widely, unnaturally so for a human. “Ah, I tink I know you.” She said, “Yer Titania’s brat? My boys told me stories.”
“Not her direct descendent, but yes.” Tanya said, fidgeting at the woman’s intense, predatory gaze.
“Come on down, then.” Mamma Gkikka said, patting Tanya on the head before sashaying into the back rooms.
Tanya whimpered. She was in danger…
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The thing about jagers is that they’re really not that great at keeping secrets, by and large. Sure, they had infiltrators, or ‘sneaky types’ among their numbers, but those were the exception, not the rule. Their best defense against such tactics is just… general paranoia. If you do manage to get accepted among them, you learn all kinds of things.
Naturally, Tanya didn’t speak a word of the Jagerkin’s secret medical center in the basement complexes beneath Mechanicsburg, which is against their agreement with Baron Wulfenbach. They talk a big game about how it’s technically not breaking their agreement… but that wouldn’t hold up to any kind of legal scrutiny. Fortunately, this was not a matter of law, but politics, so allowing fig leaf justifications for unproblematic breakages of the treaty was accepted practice. By insisting upon the fig leaf, they demonstrate respect for the spirit of the agreement, which is vastly preferable to the alternative, where they simply laugh at you for thinking that the premier monsters of the Heterodynes can keep to a contract.
Still, after she spent a few hours talking about some of her more exciting (to jagers) stories from Paris, appropriately embellished for the audience, and in turn getting regaled with some new stories about how they got their crippling injuries, she was able to berth the Absolute Safety Mecha mk. IV in one of the bar’s many cellars, and used some scrap they had to fabricate a few basic cybernetics for them to use. Feet, hands, eyes, nothing too exotic, with the exception of a single shattered pelvis. That was apparently a recent injury, unrelated to Jurgen’s missing left shoulder, arm included.
It was difficult, turning a blind eye to the concoctions and drugs that Mamma personally administered as part of the surgeries, but it earned Mamma’s agreement to arrange for her to meet someone who can then get her an appointment with the glassworkers, so it was a day well spent.
Also, naturally, they threatened her repeatedly to not overstep her welcome, but that was expected, given the sensitive subject that was the jagermonster’s biology. They were right to be paranoid, too: she learned quite a bit about how the jagerdraught affected their nerves, muscles, and bones, and it gave her an idea or two about some of her projects that were still in the drafting stage. There were so many unanswered questions, though...
Still, it was a fair transaction: Tanya got a safe berth, meals, and help with her primary goal, and a few of the less crippled jagermonsters got to report back to the Baron and get themselves assigned to new postings. If it wasn’t for the fact that they didn’t have a Heterodyne to fix them up, she’d have never gotten the opportunity, but not even the jagermonsters were immune to bending their principles in the name of practicality: Jagermonster internal law enforcement tended to operate largely on precedent, so as Titania Heterodyne was given full permission by Saturnus to work on injured jagermonsters, Tanya being allowed to do the same was considered to be something “the Masters” might permit, if consulted. As such, it was considered good enough to allow her to work, even if they also took steps to obfuscate her learning too much about them.
Alas, she went to sleep alone: it was not the first time that she chickened out from pursuing a lady, but as wonderful the imagery of the possibilities were, her bones were like twigs compared to Jurgen’s, and the idea of wasting her vacation or worse, being unable to return to Paris in time, allowed logic and reason to win the day against her libido.
More importantly, she could not afford Mamma’s rates.
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Mechanicsburg was, nominally, run by a burgermeister appointed by Baron Wulfenbach, administering the laws and taxes of the Empire. This was because the von Mekkans, the Heterodyne’s Seneshals, died in the attack that broke the castle. However, anyone with any understanding of politics and the history thereof would naturally be hesitant to assume that the proud people, marauders kept fat and sharp by the Heterodynes, would submit to this.
As they nominally do exactly that, it was the natural conclusion that the insular people have some informal organization to run things the way they want to be run, while Burgermeister Zurken grows fat and lazy in their do-nothing post.
This was not fully explained to Tanya, of course, but she was instructed to report to Vanamode Heliotrope and his grandfather, at the Sausage Factory Cafe, to get her meeting with ‘anyvun important’ and asking how she should convey Mamma’s favor only returned ‘they’re schmott guyz, they’ll know’. It painted a certain picture.
The cafe was like any other upscale coffee shop, it had tables, nice chairs, good natural light (hard to come by in a dense urban environment), pretty waitstaff, and what appeared to be a Bugatti coffee engine in pride of place. The newest model, which didn’t mean much: it’ll probably get replaced in less than five years.
There were two pairs of a young man and his grandfather currently in the shop, but as one of the pair observed her discreetly while the other blatantly talked to each other while deniably gesturing at her, Tanya suspected the former were the Heliotropes.
She ordered some coffee and a pastry, walked to the table her new friends were at, and sat down. “Vanamode Heliotrope?” She asked, making no secret of examining him. He was a pretty man, not particularly masculine but with a gentlemanly air that probably had women swoon at his attention. She’d peg his age at… nineteen to twenty-two, old enough to be a plausible member of a shadow government, but he was probably new to the job.
“Countess von Degurechaff.” Vanamode said in reply. His grandfather stayed silent, but observed them both. Ah, this must be a transition period. “I have been expecting you.”
Faster than any cafe in Paris, Tanya’s coffee was ready and placed in front of her, as was her pastry. It was puff pastry filled with cream cheese while ladled with the excretions of the Cerulean Giant snail, which was sweet enough to be basically frosting. Tanya took a sip. “This coffee is excellent.” She complimented.
Vanamode beamed. “You like it? My coffe engine’s a genuine Bugatti-” called it “-imported from Milan at great expense.” His grandfather’s face tensed as his grandson surrendered the conversational momentum at the mention of what appeared to be his own personal passion.
She liked him already. “It’s the finest model that can be bought on the open market, to be sure.” Tanya said, “I always thought it sacrificed precision for its throughput and other quality of life features, though.” Her own coffee engine was much more sophisticated.
Vanamode’s joy twisted into indignation. She may have misstepped. “All the finest cafes swear by the Bugatti!” He protested. “The finest coffee in the world is made by Bugatti engines!”
“The finest coffee in the world is made by engines that were personally handcrafted and optimized by Signore Bugatti.” Tanya corrected, “This is a mass production model-” Of course by that she means ‘standardized machined parts, assembled by non-spark artisans by hand’, not proper factory mass production “-designed by him. Just complicated enough to overwhelm an amateur, but simple enough that finding a pretty face that can learn to operate it in a week or two isn’t too challenging. You can’t even customize your grain size, and the sifter is non-programmable.” Tanya tutted at his ignorance. “It’s a fine coffee engine, to be sure, particularly as it can produce great enough quantities to satisfy a busy morning crowd,” She sips more at her coffee. Delicious. Strong blend, too. “-but don’t pretend that it cannot become greater.” After a pause, she added: “Also, I would like to know where you buy these beans. You have excellent taste.” Tanya was shocked to learn that finding good coffee in Paris was actually quite difficult. She thought that the culture would lead to an incredibly competitive market, but apparently local tastes didn’t seem to care that much about it. More importantly, his supplier would absolutely be able to get her beans in her own territory, even if she needed to send a courier to Mechanicsburg to pick them up.
Vanamode seemed far too upset at her correct opinions, but his grandfather whacked the boy on the back of the head. “Focus, boy.” He said.
Composing himself quickly, Vanamode bought a second by sipping more at his coffee. “Countess, I believe you wished to arrange something with our glassmakers?” he said, changing the subject.
“More coffee, please.” Tanya whispered to one of the waitresses before addressing Vanamode again. “Yes, I’ve heard great things about the Mechanicsburg glassworks, and I have a need for some rather precise products that could use their skills.” She reached into one of her armored dress’s storage compartment and took out a sample that she crafted by hand.
An incredibly thin monocrystalline silicon wafer, covered in metal circuitry. It was her best replication of a computer motherboard, capable of 32-bit calculations. It was a massive pain to make by hand, this was the only one of its over thirty siblings to not have some critical flaw that her machines failed to prevent.
Vanamode’s grandfather seemed quite interested, picking the thing up and examining it closely. “What is it?” He asked.
“It’s a calculator.” Tanya said, “Or, a critical part of one anyway. The precision required is immense, and I hope your artisan’s talents are up to the task. I heard they appreciate a challenge.”
The grandfather hummed. “Science marches on…” He muttered, before placing the silicate board back in front of her. “That looks like it will be expensive work.” He warned.
Tanya waved off the concern. “I understand that expertise is valuable, and if we cannot come together on price, so be it. I’ll not be breaking the Baron’s Peace.”
Before anything further could be had, a panicked boy came in. “Master Heliotrope!” He exclaimed, “Someone’s shouting about being a Heterodyne in the square!”
Vanamode and his grandfather groaned in tune with each other. “Damned fool.” Groused the elder.
“Why is this the first I’m hearing of this?” Complained Vanamode, standing up and moving to leave.
“They probably think that we’d have tried to stop them if they didn’t surprise us.” His grandfather groused. “This is going to be messy.”
“Does this happen… often?” Tanya asked, following Vanamode. He didn’t arrange her meeting yet, after all.
“A few times a year.” Vanamode said, “All fake, of course. We like to keep things quiet, have them tested before… they get everyone’s hopes up.” The tremor in his voice, subtle pause before he switched to a more diplomatic phrasing, told volumes on how messy this situation could potentially get.
The spark in question was a burly man with short brown hair and a round face. Actually, he looked rather strikingly similar to pictures of Barry Heterodyne. He was bossing around the townsfolk, fixing up what appeared to be some kind of carousel. The townsfolk in question seemed largely pleased with this so-called Heterodyne so far.
Well, at first glance anyway. Some of the older folk were far more calculating in their gazes. The so-called Heterodyne was engulfed in an explosion, proving his incompetence. “I meant to do that!” He lied, which the crowd ate up.
Master Heliotrope, the elder, hummed in thought. “He’s a spark, at least…” He murmured.
“There are claimants who aren’t?” Tanya asked, somewhat perturbed at the idea of such idiocy.
“You’d be surprised.” The old man said. “That man there’s one of the town’s best glassworkers.” He said, pointing to a man with graying curly hair and a large nose. “Master Sklar.”
The Heterodyne claimant continued to work on the carousel, recklessly ignoring the pressure vessel that was building up steam without an outlet. Idiot… “Duck you reckless idiots!” Tanya shouted, diving into cover herself, and the townsfolk immediately obeyed right before there was yet another explosion.
The so-called Heterodyne, on the other hand, flew across the street and a canal onto a small park labeled ‘Tiny Monster Island’. He very quickly woke back up, and started screaming, tearing at his clothes. “They’re in my coat!” He shouted, swatting what appeared to be tiny bugs that were eating him alive. Nasty… “Off of your master, damned monsters!”
“...Are you going to help him?” Tanya asked Vanamode. Idly, she brushed off the bolt that had launched itself through her cover, only to not have nearly enough energy left to bother her dress’ defense systems.
“We probably should, yes.” Vanamode said, taking out a large keyring filled with keys and other small key-like devices. Flipping through them, he stopped at a whistle and blew on it. Sounds like… thirty thousand hertz or so? Above normal hearing range, and to say that she could ‘hear’ it wasn’t really accurate, but she could perceive it well enough.
The bug-sized monsters vacated the Heterodyne claimant, who then leapt across the canal that they were launched past, not quite making it but managing to grab the opposite ledge and scramble up it. “Do that faster next time!” He commanded, pointing directly at Vanamode. “I’ll finish fixing the Rotary Murder and Merriment Fixture later. I’m bleeding, and that takes priority.” He started to trudge in the direction of the Great Hospital, which was only a quarter mile away so it might very well be the closest doctor’s office to here.
Vanamode’s grandfather tutted disapprovingly at the Heterodyne claimant’s sensible decision. He had an old woman next to him, and had been having a whispering conversation with her for the last few minutes. “His name’s Julius, and he’s claiming to be a byblow of Barry.” He reported, Vanamode nodded. Yeah, Tanya had guessed that too. “Seems to me that he believes it, at least.”
Tanya walked up to the Carousel, frowning as she saw the damage the exploded high pressure steam vessel did to the rest of it. “There’s your problem.” She said jokingly to one of the mechanics that were also examining the wreckage.
“Mm-hmm.” “Yep.” “Gonna take some elbow grease.” Agreed the various mechanics before they started dismantling everything and sorting it into broken parts and intact ones.
What does she have on hand? Most of her tools were integrated with her mecha, but she did have tools for fine detail work and delicate components integrated with her current armor. Once the plating was all stripped away, Tanya moved in and started assessing and examining the control mechanisms. “This stuff’s all intact.” Was her initial diagnosis. “The cognitive engine is fried, but that’s old damage. The remote backup… no, the linkup is the primary control apparatus, the cognitive engine is the backup… fascinating. But as it stands… useless! It’d barely be able to do anything even if it did get signals! It’s clear what must be done.” As she examined, she stripped out the cognitive engine and used her tools to clean the decades of corrosion, organic matter buildup, and what appeared to be some kind of static electricity-based power storage that she needed to ground out before Julius got himself fried, his dick-first approach to repair was dangerous when dealing with something made by the Heterodynes. “You! I need five 1.2mm nuts, seven 1.1mm, two 1.- Are you getting this?” She asked.
“Yes, Mistress!” Said the mechanic, gleefully.
After finishing her order for replacement nuts, screws, and bolts, she whirled on someone else. “You! I left my simple tools in my mech, get me a good toolbox.” She whirled on someone else. “I need wires! Half of these need to be melted down and re-spooled! Damn madboys that built the thing used seven gauges where four would do, too! The four hundred amp wires are all fine, but I need a spool of two hundred amps, fifty amps, and ten amps!”
“I’m on it, Mistress!” Another townsfolk, who was in casual dress instead of work clothes, shouted as he ran off.
By the time Julius returned, an hour later, with several bandages visible underneath a fresh change of clothes, Tanya had already finished fixing the carousel’s important functions, and the minions had fixed the riding monsters, the steam engine, and most importantly: the weapons. The interior was now a protected firing position where an operator could control not only the carousel’s weapons, but she wired a few city defense subsystems she noticed while in the underground area to the same console, allowing someone inside to control enough of the surrounding buildings to get clearer firing lanes. Good thing too, because some of those guns needed more space than they had to work optimally.
“What is the meaning of this?” Julius asked, once he saw the fully functional Carousel.
Tanya paused from her two headed dragon ride. Wait, why did she fix the carousel? “I got carried away!” She half-shouted when the carousel turned into a position where she was closest to him. “Don’t worry, I was assured that the Castle will figure it out,” She said on the next pass. “-no need to troubleshoot system compatibility!" She finished on the third. It was a pretty fast carousel.
“Who is she?” Julius demanded on Vanamode.
“That would be Countess von Degurechaff, Master.” Vanamode said, a little nervous getting the direct attention of a dangerous lunatic. Or, at least, someone pretending to be one.
“She’s one of the few people we have an actual treaty with.” Master Heliotrope, whose name was Carson, added. “Once my grandson does his job, you’ll be signing or burning it, if our Master you be.”
“...Who are you?” Julius added, catching on that he was not speaking to any random townsfolk.
“My card.” Carson said, handing it to the Heterodyne claimant.
“...Doom Bell Ringer?” Julius asked incredulously.
“Do you think it rang itself?” Carson asked rhetorically.
Julius thought for a moment. “...Yes, yes I did.”
“Someone has to be responsible for making sure it works properly.” Carson observed, “My family are those people.”
“Which, incidentally,” Vanamode said, sliding up to the man. “-also includes verifying that you are, in fact, a Heterodyne. Right this way, for your destiny!” He said grandiosely.
After seeing the so-called Heterodyne leave with the official Doom Bell Ringer… Tanya never saw him again. Guess he wasn’t the real deal.
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Vanamode pulled through, and it was around dinner time when Tanya finally got to meet with Master Sholem Sklar in his workshop. “First thing’s first. Can you work with this?” She asked, putting down one of her monocrystalline silicon boules for him to inspect.
“Ah, monocrystalline silicon!” Master Sklar said, immediately recognizing it. A good sign. “I haven’t had the chance to work with this since the Masters left!”
Oh? “So the Heterodynes made use of semiconductors in their machines?” Tanya asked.
“Yes!” Master Sklar said, his grin straining the mechanical limits of his face. He paused, his smile slipping. “Ah, naturally the details of what they did with it are the secrets of the masters, and I won’t be betraying them!” He quickly asserted.
Tanya raised both hands assuringly. “Not to worry, I have my own designs for it.” Tanya said calmly, which let Sholem relax. She put down her sample motherboard. “This is an example of what I want to make, I can make it myself of course, as you can see, but it’s labor-intensive. I seek to commission you and your fellow artisans to make components I can use in my greater designs.” Then she will show those fuzzy logic clankheads what computer intelligence can really do! She’ll show them all! “I’ve brought extensive blueprints and instructions, of course, but already being familiar with the material should save both of us some time.”
Sklar gave her an evaluating look. “...Master Heliotrope did say that you were related to Lady Titania.” He said, which was a bit of a non sequitur.
“I am.” Tanya lied, “But my work with circuitry is entirely my own. Any similarities between our work-” Tanya’s best guess as to why he’d bring it up, “-is just because we are both working with the same underlying physical laws, and thus the same kinds of work would be sent to your doorstep.”
Master Sklar huffed in amusement. “That didn’t stop the Masters from making what they pleased…”
“Well I’m not a Heterodyne.” Tanya said testily, “So you’ll have to live with dealing with the next best thing: a paying customer.”
“Ya, ya. Now, let’s see these blueprints…”
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Unfortunately, Master Sklar would need months (it took until lunch the next day to even get through the instructions) to get her order ready, and charged enough money for the work that she could barely afford a down payment after spending all that money on her airship (even that much required her to give him one of Sekken-chan’s splits), but the good news was that she had anticipated both things, and arranged to return after next semester with the rest of the money. It’d take some catastrophically unexpected expenses to render her unable to secure the cash, particularly given how many assets she had to either liquidate or secure loans.
Once she did, though… she’ll show them all!
In the meantime, she had touristy stuff to do! “Wheeeeee!” Tanya shouted along with the children as the roller coaster-like device pretended to fly them around, when it was just a tower (that extended up from the ground only when the ride was in use) that flung them around on a tether.
“What’s that kids?” Snazzibelle, the shark-toothed cat-fairy animatronic that gave the safety briefing asked. “You want to go faster? Alright then!” The acceleration spiked. Somewhere in Tanya’s brain, the spark part probably, registered it as a 30% increase, but it felt like it was doubled as the screams of excitement attempted to outdo the machine.
Soon enough, however, the carnival ride was finished, and Tanya was stumbling out of it, slightly dizzy but with a pleasingly pounding pulse. “You know what that ride needs?” Tanya asked the thirty-ish man that she was clinging to while she got her balance back. “More features. I spotted a great place to put a cotton candy machine, and you could make it faster if you had it transform to be a bit more aerodynamic mid-flight. It’d be even better if you made it a simple shuttle, but that’d somewhat eliminate the theming, so sacrifices must be made.”
The other tourist nodded indulgently as he led her and the other children, still stumbling himself, to a bench. “Have a seat before you fall down, Miss.” He murmured, sitting down himself.
“Of course, if you want some real speed, adding some rockets would compensate for the lack of aerodynamics nicely.” Tanya continued, turning her power armor’s inertial management system back on. The ride would have been too boring otherwise…
Earlier, the man, who was addressed as Mr. Lombardi, had asked her if she was old enough to be on her own like this when she was waiting in line for the carnival ride, and upon Tanya’s protest that she was nearly fifteen, had promptly done the appropriate but inconvenient thing and ushered her to join the group of about ten children, four of which his own but mostly those of his tour group, and made sure that she wore the safety gear that Snazzibelle insisted was strictly optional. Seeing as how the second oldest child in the group was thirteen, Tanya didn’t really have much room to complain that she was too old for this treatment. It was actually kind of nice, to have someone else insisting on safety for once. “Headcount!” He called, and the children all attempted to sit still as he made sure all were present. “Where’s Giselle?” He demanded, after counting twice and figuring out which kid was missing.
“She peed her skirts and ran off to get eaten by a monster.” Said the five year old, picking his nose.
With her equilibrium restored, Tanya stood back up, right in time for a distant explosion to send a piece of shrapnel right into what would have hit her eye if her cranial barrier didn’t flicker into existence and deflect it. “Not today, Being X.” Tanya murmured. Louder, she cleared her throat. “I’ll find her sir, don’t worry. The six year old brunette, right?” With a casual engagement of her dress’ mobility systems, she leapt up onto a grotesque on a lamppost, she didn’t hear him correct her so she probably got it right. With a quick scan, she spotted the weeping child and threw herself into the right direction. “Come on child, Big Sister Tanya’s here, and we’ll get you cleaned up.” She whispered, gently approaching the child and letting her stand up.
“Okay…” Giselle said, letting Tanya lead her to the carnival’s restroom where she could quickly clean the clothes in private. This was why she had an emergency soap supply. The girl was much more enthusiastic when Tanya broke out her power armor’s tools to quickly and efficiently wash and dry the clothes, having never seen a female spark before apparently.
It was far from the first time she’s had to deal with a problem like this, and that didn’t even need to count her previous set of adopted children, her subordinates in the Orphan Powered War Clank squad had plenty of emergencies of this nature, so she knew exactly what to do. “If anyone makes fun of you for this, I’ll turn them into a construct.” She said assuringly as they left, Giselle now not showing any evidence of her little accident.
Once they got Giselle back into the group, Tanya stayed with them until the end of her third day in Mechanicsburg, enjoying the Mechanicsburg carnival as one of the steadily growing tour group.
Ah, she loved children.
Comments
Layout
nice. one of my favorite Tanya fics...
Christopher Overbeck
Very Fluff. Much Spark!
