Then, I accessed another power and began plotting the finer points of my first week's activities. This was probably the biggest thing any game, ever, had taught me.

You didn't make plans.

Plans are bad.

If you make a plan, pretty soon the plan becomes more important than the goal that the plan is supposed to accomplish. The practice of planning isn't inherently bad, of course, but it is somewhat inflexible by it's nature. I'd seen it time and time again in both fiction and real life. People made these awesome, spectacular plans and when situations changed, they didn't bother adjusting to them. I think that was what rubbed me wrong about Cauldron in general, and Contessa in specific.

Cauldron had a goal: Kill Scion.

Contessa, though, was a plan without a goal. She was a living plot device that did exactly what her powers told her to without any understanding of the how or why behind the strategies she was being told to implement. In effect, Cauldron had placed near-complete blind trust in Contessa and her path to victory without understanding what 'victory' meant beyond Scion being dead. Sure, that was important, but...

I sighed. Another time-wasting diatribe.

Anyway, my original point was that plan are bad.

Guidelines, though...goals, ideas, these are more fluid, more adaptable.

Besides, I'd always been better at jumping in head-first and improvising the rest of the way.

Lying blindly on the ground, I nevertheless found myself right where I needed to be, a carefully calculated place that would land me in the path of my first...contact. Yeah, 'contact' sounded appropriately neutral.

"Oh! Ames, look, it's a dog! It's bleeding!"

I whimpered slightly at the noise, giving my best 'I'm a poor injured doggie' impression. Judging by Victoria Dallon's wordless, worried noise, as she began cooing me.

"And look at this, someone put tape all over it's head!" She stated, her voice somewhere between a sympathetic whine and a growl promising punishment to her enemies.

"Vicky, let me see it for a moment if you're that worried about the dog," Amy Dallon gave a resigned sigh and began prodding at my injury with a less-than-gentle touch. Honestly, I was almost surprised she was bothering. Granted, I'd timed things early enough so that she wasn't nearly as close to burning out as she was at the bank, but...

If I could have felt pain, it would have receded as the wound in my side closed.

"There, no let's just pull off the tape and hope he doesn't bite us," Amy decided warily.

"Here, let me," Vicky interrupted, "Invulnerable, remember?"

I felt her aura wash over me as she stepped closer, though it was as a wave against the stone of my mind. I could tell what it was trying to do, but I merely strengthened myself a bit and let it wash away.

There was the sound of tearing tape and paper as my impromptu 'muzzle' came off.

Ah, I could see again! Oh, and that was a pleasant view...

The sight of Victoria Dallon's breasts barely concealed within her low-cut top mesmerized me for a moment as the girl floated back slowly, carefully, not making any sudden movements.

I shook myself, allowing instincts to take over as I attempted to work out kinks that weren't really there at the moment. Still, from the way the two sisters were looking at me, I was probably at least an impressive sight...

"Wow, that's...a big dog," Amy said slowly.

"Yeah, I mean...he looked a lot smaller laying down, didn't he?" Vicky replied, hovering in front of her sister cautiously as I looked back towards them.

Victoria was blonde haired, with enchanting green eyes and a figure that doubtless let her wear the title 'bombshell' with ease. Honestly, I couldn't blame Amy for crushing on her, with or without the aura. Amy was obviously a little care-worn in her clothing selection, much more casual than her sister, and her face and hair bore out the 'mousy' comparison I'd so often seen made.

I coughed slightly, focusing their attention on me further as I bowed my head and forced an upturned crescent moon to appear on my brow. Taking a deep breath, I raised my head and looked them dead on in their wide, wide eyes.

"Thank you for removing the restraint and healing me. I am in your debt. May I have the names of those who came to my aid?"

Their eyes were...nearly bulging now, I appreciated silently.

Interestingly enough, Invictus can be applied to keep you from laughing, no matter how much you want too, just as well as it can be applied to things like pain and depression. So useful.

"You're...a cape?" Victoria asked eventually, coming back to herself as she floated closer, curious.

"Vicky! Don't...we don't know who he is!" Amy urged quietly, though my keen hearing picked it up easily.

"The name I cam currently using is Orion, if it puts you at ease to have a form of address," I replied calmly as Victoria circled me slowly.

"Wow...so is this a changer power or something?" Victoria asked, reaching out to poke me.

"If that is a question as to whether or not I can change my form, that function is currently denied to me," I explained, turning my head to follow her. "Is it customary in this culture to ask invasive questions before introducing oneself? If this is the case, I apologize for my faux pas."

Victoria blushed crimson as I blinked innocently.

Amy snorted, then covered her mouth in surprise as I turned an inquisitive eye to her. "Oh, sorry, no...that's not normal. Victoria is just a little...intrusive, sometimes. I'm Amy Dallon and this is my sister, Victoria Dallon."

I nodded, then inhaled deeply before quirking my head. "Sisters? Adopted I assume. I am sorry if it is rude to mention, but you do not smell of the same blood."

Both sisters flinched back, obviously surprised.

"How did you know?" Victoria asked, her eyes narrowing as she frowned. "I mean, that's not something we advertise, exactly...and you said you didn't know who we are."

"Genetic identification through passive scanning is a relatively simple application of my abilities. I have been provided with sensory instruments that allow me a wide array of information by which to deduce the fact that you two have no blood relation. For completeness' sake, I also analyzed body type, facial structure, visible genetic phenotypes, and other characteristics common to close relations. Such instrumentation is necessary for the completion of my mission, I am sorry if I have caused you undue stress or invaded your privacy."

As I explained, both of their eyebrows rose high on their foreheads and the exchanged wary glances. I waited calmly as they digested the information dumped on then, my posture passive.

"Ohhhkaaaay," Victoria drew out. "That's...creepy, but kind of cool. So, you can just tell if any two people are related?"

I nodded as Amy's narrowed.

I could see her putting two and two together.

"Vicky," Amy said quietly, "I think we should call the PRT."

"Huh?" Victoria asked, her eyebrows furrowing. "Why? You think he's a Case 53 or something? He seems to have it together too much for that."

"No," Amy shook her head. "He mentioned he's on a mission that needs tools to identify genetic information. He's looking for someone, on behalf of someone else."

"Oh," Victoria nodded, giving me a suspicious look. "So what about it? Who're you looking for...and who sent you?"

"That information is classified," I replied calmly. "Only individuals who match a predetermined set of genetic markers may be informed of the parameters of my mission. The original mission parameters were set by the High Lunar Empress Serenity the Ascendent in the event of a Class X disaster."

I really, really wanted to start laughing right now.

"High Lunar Empress?" Amy asked, looking at me oddly. "Who is...is that the cape that made you like this? Some weirdo who thinks they're queen of the moon and wants you to find someone?"

"Serenity the Ascendent was the ruler of this solar system between 13 million years ago and 7 million years ago who gave the initial orders to capture my core and alter it to serve the Sol Empire, although the full list of mages, scientists, and programmers is archived in my memory. I can recite the information at request after I have provided the the armor, weapons, and equipment I have stored in a pocket dimension to the individual with matching genetic markers. I do apologize, but mission parameters take precedence over requests." I stated politely.

More blinking.

"Bullshit," Victoria stated, shaking her head. "That's it, I've had enough of fairy-tale time. Ames, call the PRT, we'll let them take care of this bozo."

Amy, though, was still staring at me, her eyes narrow now.

"You just told me that you were instructed to deliver armor and weapons to someone," Amy pointed out, "but you told Victoria that you couldn't tell anyone except the the person who gave you the instructions and the person you were supposed to find. Why did you tell me?"

"Your genetic material is a high-fidelity match to one of the sample sets I have archived. As you are one of the subjects identified in my search protocols, you are hereby awarded administrative access to information contained within this unit. Are you amenable to receive the items at this point in time?"

Victoria shifted quickly, moving more fully between myself and her sister.

"Okay, listen here, freak, you're not going anywhere near my sister with any 'weapons,' you get me?" She ordered, ready to charge me at a moment's notice.

"If you intend to impede my primary mission objectives, I must warn you that I am capable of incapacitating you. This course of action is not recommended," I replied calmly.

"Just you try it, freak!" Vicky sneered, slapping a fist into her palm.

"Wait!" Amy shouted, holding up her hands and stepping out from behind her sister. "Wait...look, Orion, you said your name was?"

"Affirmative," I nodded.

"Okay, look...what if I said I don't want...whatever you're supposed to give me?" Amy asked as her sister relaxed slightly.

"Irrelevant," I stated. "Mission parameters are as follows: locate individuals fitting selection criteria, allocate subspace receiver node to individuals so that they may access indicated items, administer required information to instruct individuals in the equipment's use, provide tactical and strategic briefings, aid individuals in battle, and provide for individuals' physical, emotional, spiritual, and sexual welfare if necessary. I am authorized to disable any and all sentient beings who impede the mission parameters."

"Oh yeah!" Vicky taunted, "then if you're so tough, how were you bleeding out on the concrete back there, huh?"

"Combat information pertaining to this unit's weaknesses is restricted," I stated blandly.

Amy scowled and repeated the question.

In accordance with my ploy, I answered her in full. After all, she had 'permission' to have the information. "...and, though I had managed to incapacitate the combatant you have indicated is known as 'Hookwolf,' his men were able to place a binding on my crest, which, in my currently limited state of power, reduced my abilities enough that they were able to injure me. In such a state, I was forced to flee the battlefield."

Man...that had been a bitch to set up. If I hadn't been able to see the future, I'd never have been able to get that to work.

"Holy shit," Victoria muttered, "think he's telling the truth, Ames?"

"No idea," Amy replied, then sighed and addressed me directly. "Look, is this...stuff, you're supposed to give me anything that will hurt me or anyone else?"

I pondered the question for a moment. "Such a consideration depends on situational context. The items in question are uniformly meant to be used for your protection, though situations may arise in which a lack of care in their use or a lack of knowledge in their use may result in injury or casualties. Barring accidental injury of yourself or others, the equipment will responded to the desires of the user. As such, if you direct the weaponry towards an object or individual, it is likely they will be slain unless they possess superior durability."

Vicky's eyes nearly crossed as my explanation twisted around on itself.

"He means that it shouldn't hurt anyone unless I use it to," Amy translated, then frowned. "Which I won't. I'm a healer. I don't need to hurt people."

There was a long moment of silence.

"Look," Amy stated, frowning, "If I...receive whatever you want to give me, will you come with us to the PRT and explain all this to them? Please?"

I considered the request for all of one second. "Affirmative. Secondary priority mission objectives require I remain nearby the selected individuals. I will travel with you to the indicated destination."

Amy closed her eyes and rubbed at her forehead. "I just know I'm going to regret this..."

"Ames?" Vicky asked quietly.

Looking back at me, she called out in a firm voice. "Okay, this is how it's going to work. You take three steps forward and put down the...whatever it is. Then you go back to where you were and I'll come up and pick up this stuff. After that, we're going to the PRT. If you move so much as a single paw out of line, though, the deals off."

"Agreed," I nod and open my mouth. A small burst of light later and a hand-sized circular stone with ancient symbols on it appears between my teeth.

...because I am a dog, and I am not going to indulge in acrobatics merely to produce a magical artifact.

I take three steps forward and place the stone on the ground, then take three steps back. "The items in question will appear when you touch the subspace node. Please do not be alarmed by their sudden appearance. They will be inert until you receive the proper training to actualize them."

Amy looked at the stone with distrust, but firmed her face and stepped forward, even as Victoria watched anxiously from behind her.

There was a flash of light as her fingers made contact with the stone.

For a brief moment, I was able to see Amy Dallon, now clothed in a purple and gold breastplate, purple and black shirt and pants decorated with intricate flourishes of gold, gloves, boots, and helmet of the same design, even as her hand reached out to instinctively catch the towering glaive that had appeared before her.

The sigil of Saturn burned bright on forehead, even through the helmet's metal.

I decided to pull an old classic dog trick...and played dead, slumping to the side in apparent unconsciousness as I enjoyed Amy Dallon freaking the fuck out.