Chapter 62: Debrief and Divergence
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The crater looked like God's own fist had punched the earth. Plumber operatives sward over the devastation with the efficiency of ants cleaning up after a picnic, their black tactical gear making them look like shadows against the scorched ground.
I was back to my human form now and watched from a chunk of fallen masonry as Commander Patelliday barked orders through his suit's speaker, his fish-like features sohow managing to look both professional and deeply confused.
He was a Piscciss Volann, Ripjaws’ species. They were such a species that couldn’t live without water for long, they’d literally die. So being a Plumber was a dangerous job for this man, and so it was respectable that he bothered to do it, and even reached the rank of Magister through it.
"Periter secure," one of the operatives reported. The tigress woman from earlier, now sporting a few new scratches but otherwise unhard. She seed to be from Rath’s species. "Forever Knights have been detained. Seventeen in custody, three requiring dical attention."
"Good work, Sergeant Ti," Patelliday acknowledged, then turned to survey the massive clearing where dense jungle used to be. His webbed fingers tapped against his thigh in what I was starting to recognize as his thinking gesture. "Now soone explain to how a simple artifact retrieval turned into... this."
The Ancient One glided forward, still looking fresh as a daisy despite having just gone toe-to-toe with an immortal vampire. Her yellow robes didn't even have dust on them, which seed deeply unfair considering I felt like I'd been put through a cosmic blender.
"Allow , commander," she inclined her head slightly. After a few minutes of talk, the situation was clear to Patelliday. Then, she proposed sothing. "I believe our organizations need to establish better communication protocols for situations involving divine intervention."
Patelliday's gills flapped, which might have been his version of a sigh. "With all due respect, Sorcerer Supre, the Plumbers have protocols for alien invasions, space ti anomalies, and even dinsional breaches. We don't have a form for Aztec goddess showing up and lecturing everyone about cosmic philosophy."
"Perhaps we should create one," the Ancient One suggested with the barest hint of a smile. "This won't be the last ti our paths cross."
They moved away, voices dropping to that professional murmur that ant serious grown-up talk was happening. I caught fragnts such as "containnt procedures," "dia blackout," "official story involving gas leak explosions.” You know, the usual bureaucratic dance that happened after the world almost ended.
Seeing an opportunity, I hopped off the ruined stone and jogged over to the tigress sergeant, who was busy calibrating her ridiculously large minigun.
"That was so impressive work back there, Sergeant," I said, trying for a charming grin.
She glanced up, her feline eyes assessing with a practiced neutrality. "Just doing my job, Mr Tennyson."
"No, I’m for real. It was amazing to see. Most people's jobs don't involve using two armored guys as clubs," I pointed out.
A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "They were conveniently shaped."
"Conveniently shaped and you're conveniently beautiful. It's a dangerous combination." I pushed, leaning against a crate. Alright, just to be clear, I wasn’t quite attracted to tigers, no, but it was undeniable that her hourglass shape would be considered beautiful. She looked quite similar to Tigress from Kung Fu Panda, if Tigress had two massive claws coming from above her wrists. Anyhow, believe or not, I wasn’t here to hit on her, I was attempting to soften the ground first.
She finally laughed, a low, rumbling sound. "If I were a full-blooded Appoplexian, that line would have earned you a dislocated shoulder. At minimum.”
My grin faltered. "You're not?"
"My mother’s a human," she said, turning back to her weapon. "Grew up on Earth, thankfully. Otherwise, I'd be just another aggressive, brain-dead athead who screams 'Let tell you sothing!' before every sentence. I got the best of both worlds, I guess. All the strength, none of the uncontrollable rage."
"Speaking of strength," I said, pivoting smoothly. "I've got a little science experint I'd like to try, if you're ga." I held up my wrist, tapping the face of the Omnitrix. "I'm trying to add more alien DNA to my watch's roster. Mind if I get a sample?"
Sergeant Ti raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Is this so weird human pickup line? No, since you want to touch your watch, is it a kink?"
I couldn't help but laugh. "Neither. I'm just trying to see if I can scan you. For science."
She shrugged, a gesture that looked surprisingly casual on her powerful fra, and extended a hand. "Be my guest. Can't say I've ever had my DNA requested on a first date before."
Her hand, covered in soft orange fur, rested on the Omnitrix. I held my breath, waiting for the familiar yellow light, the satisfying chirp of a successful scan.
Nothing happened.
The watch remained dark and silent. I tapped it a couple of tis, feeling like an idiot.
"Huh," she said, a definite note of amusent in her voice. "Guess your watch isn't interested." She pulled her hand back and gave my shoulder a light, powerful pat. "Better luck next ti, Mr Tennyson."
She turned and walked away, her laughter echoing softly as she went back to her duties.
I sighed, staring down at the unresponsive device. Way to impress a girl. Jokes aside, I wondered why it didn't work. Was it because she was a hybrid, a half-blood? Or since the Omnitrix already had a pure Appoplexian DNA sample, making hers redundant? In either case, it was a bust.
"Young Tennyson."
I looked up to find Patelliday standing over , his shark-like teeth visible even through the helt. "Commander?"
"Walk with ."
It wasn't a request. I pushed myself up, muscles protesting after the Feedback transformation. That form had been incredible, but the energy hangover was real. We moved away from the main cleanup area, stopping near what had been the pyramid's entrance.
"That new transformation," he began without preamble. "The one that absorbed and redirected energy, it must be a new one. But the species is not in our database. Do you know anything about it?"
"Yeah, first ti using it, but Omnitrix tells it's a Conductoid," I tried to keep my voice casual, but inside my mind was racing. Of course, the Plumbers kept tabs on the Omnitrix transformations. They probably had a whole file on by now. That might be one reason why SHIELD and Nick Fury weren’t after already, because this other organization had marked before he could notice. "I unlocked it today. Had zero idea it could do… things like that."
"'That' being absorbing the magical output of two oga-level threats and using it to level several square miles of jungle." His tone was carefully neutral, but I could hear the concern underneath. "Benjamin, I need you to understand sothing. You're not just Max's grandson anymore. That device on your wrist makes you a strategic asset on a galactic scale."
Strategic asset. Great. Nothing like being reduced to military terminology to make a guy feel special.
"The Plumbers will need a full debrief," he continued. "New transformation capabilities, energy absorption limits, potential applications—"
"Commander," I interrupted, spotting movent near where we'd left Grandpa and Gwen. "I get it. Reports, docuntation, the whole nine yards. I have a feeling that my grandpa has already discussed this with you beforehand. So I’d leave it to him if this is truly necessary.”
He sighed dramatically, shaking his head, “Oh well, worth a try. I was hoping you’d join the Plumbers, but you’re not easily swayed.”
I could guess that was his agenda. It wasn’t evil to want the wielder of Omnitrix to be a Plumber, but I couldn’t be bothered. For now, at least. I was about to speak, but my eyes suddenly caught movent. “Ah…! Commander, my cousin's waking up, looks like I have to go. Considering she almost turned into a being of pure energy trying to avenge our grandfather, maybe the paperwork can wait."
Patelliday followed my gaze to where Gwen was stirring, the Ancient One already moving toward her. Sothing in his expression softened, as much as a fish-man in combat armor could look soft.
"Go," he said.
I thanked him, already jogging away. Behind , I heard him mutter sothing about "Tennyson stubbornness" being a "genetic trait." Probably wasn't wrong.
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