Chapter Text
"No, Golem, to say it yet again, I don't think that the client would appreciate it if you absorbed a pile of gravel at the build site," Robert said with a slight groan, with his hands palming his eyes tightly. "I'm sure you can find quality dirt somewhere else around town."
"You should really feel this stuff, man. The texture is incredible," Golem responded, with obvious sadness bleeding out over the comms.
"Just come back here tonight after your shift, dude. Nobody will know that you took it," a snarky voice butted in. Robert could feel the smile on Courtney's face as she talked.
"No, please don't take Visi's advice," Robert then fully leaned back in his chair, so as to have his head hang over the back and allowing him to stare up at the ceiling. "And for the umpteenth time, please remember that these calls are all recorded for training and archival purposes. Let's not formulate schemes to rob our clientele over a recorded line, okay?"
"For the record, let's not conspire off the comms, either. Right, Robert?" Blazer's voice chimed in, with more than a hint of humor seeping in while she attempted to use her best managerial voice.
Robert frowned for a second, "Blazer? I thought you were out in meetings today?"
"Oh sure, I'm about a minute away from having to give a presentation at the downtown branch. But you can't blame a gal for listening in on her favorite team."
Robert smirked at that, "Awfully nice of you. But you all heard the boss, let's not conspire at all, Z-Team."
Visi scoffed, "No fun at all, you two."
The Irishman chimed in, "Back to the topic at hand, is taking dirt really stealing, lad? That seems pretty victimless to me."
"I don't know, Punch Up," Robert's left hand rubbed across his jawline in exhaustion. "I think it's a safe bet that if they have some kind of special gravel at a build site, they probably intend to use it for some reason." Robert glanced at the clock, a full hour until the end of the shift, and let out a sigh. Enough time to need another caffeine boost, but not enough time to warrant the physical effort needed to get up and brew a new batch of their office slop that was allegedly a dark roast. "But also, let's remember that the last time you called something a 'victimless crime,' you got banned from yet another bar as a result. Surprise, 'the keg was unattended' defense didn't really fly, now did it?"
"Bullshite. It was barely even piss water, I was the victim that night."
A small scattering of laughs and additional snark came across the open channel. Ordinarily, Robert would try to cut back on that kind of nonsense, but he just wasn't up to it at the moment.
The day had really dragged on, but not due to any issue with the volume or severity of calls. There weren't even any kind of overarching issues with the team, as the Z-Teamers were all performing more than adequately. Successes across the board other than minor hiccups here and there. It was the type of day that an after shift report would call a successful outing, to be completely honest. But it was just the kind of day where Robert was only going through the motions. There had been enough customer calls where he had to stay focused all day without many moments to relax, but not enough calls to allow him to form any kind of rhythm or make the day seem like it was flying by. Just a worst of both worlds, slow, dull, and kinda busy all at once.
Then again, it was at least a day where the Z-Team earned a slight respite from running across Torrance all shift long, having more time than usual for them to shoot the shit and space out between calls while in their bullpen. Even with Prism's occasional complaint that her daily high steps streak was coming to an end every half hour due to a lack of action, a bit of a breather for his team was well-worth the doldrums Robert was feeling sitting in front of a computer screen. Especially with the Red Ring attack and its aftermath not even two weeks ago all fresh in their minds.
All things considered, Los Angeles had rebounded remarkably well from the violent gang attack that came close to bringing the city to its knees. There was still more than a few messes that needed to be sorted through, but at least the more mundane cleanup tasks were now being handled by a few dozen nickel and dime incarcerated supers taking over the minutiae of very closely supervised demolitions and cleanup, thereby earning brownie points for future parole hearings and extended outdoors time for themselves. That at least left the more traditional hero work for the regulars.
Life at the SDN Torrance branch continued to truck along, with the various battle scars seemingly all repaired. Or at least adequately patched up for now until the permanent renovations were complete. Enough had been fixed, replaced, and painted fresh to make one almost think that nothing had even happened there recently beyond slight remodels. 'Almost' being the key word, as any attempt to forget the attack was in reality impossible to ignore due to the hundreds, if not thousands, of pieces of paper that had been taped or glued or stapled across almost every corner of the office. This had been done by a certain group of overly excited ex-cons that were quite pleased with themselves and happy to brag over the onslaught of journalistic patting on the back that they had collectively received as of late. Copies of front page newspaper articles from across the country were now posted all over, seemingly increasing by day.
But one in particular was catching Robert's attention at that moment, as it had been very, very, very extensively taped to his cubicle wall right at sitting eye height and directly in front of him. That was an LA Times opinion headline in bold stating, "WHO KNEW THAT EX-VILLAINS COULD BECOME ACTUAL HEREOS?"
'Actual heroes.'
That wording brought a smirk to Robert's face. That's what his team were now, beyond any shadow of a doubt, and everybody knew it. The Z-Team, a group of ex-villains/wannabe heroes that nobody had wanted to associate with only two weeks ago were now the talk of the town and practically the face of the entire superhero industry. As a result of their actions, and more importantly the extensive and very positive press they had earned, SDN was beside itself with new client applications. These, in turn, lead to a massive uptick of excess funds coming in like a deluge, resulting in bumps to the paygrades for everybody in the branch even down to the lowliest of employees in a shocking example of trickle down economics surprisingly working as allegedly intended. The Torrance branch had been singularly highlighted as a paradigm now, and was being rewarded handsomely as a result, while the previous supposed regional jewels that were the DTLA, Santa Monica, and Pasadena branches were busy with meetings and angry emails galore discussing their own respective poor responses to the attack compared to the former runt of the branch litter.
And to top it all, Robert finally had his salary established as a dispatcher at the maximum level possible for a new employee. Not only that, but his now very nice paycheck was further supplemented by his overtime hours as a certified A-Grade hero in the Mecha Man suit and likewise backdated to include previously unauthorized work that he had done alongside Royd to make the suit functional again to begin with. He even got a major hazard pay bonus for getting injured on the job testing the proto pulse.
All of this had resulted in a situation where he had more money than he knew what to do with for the first time in well over a decade. A nice change of pace, even if the only difference made to his lifestyle so for had been a much better bottle of scotch than he usually drank and finally getting a replacement pair of shoes for his tattered pair that he had been wearing for probably a year past their point of providing any form of comfort. Spartan lifestyle otherwise, though he did also upgrade to much better doggie food for Beef, although the good boy had somehow realized it was okay to treat Robert's now retired shoes as his new personal chew toys before he could throw them away.
Thinking of the devil, Robert heard a slight grunt on the other side of his cubicle wall followed by the sound of hefty thud onto the floor. A strained voice came from the other side, "Don't have to kick off that hard to grab some food, buddy. I can't take a beating like I fucking used to, you know?"
Robert stood up at his desk and glanced to the voice chatting about his dog, "Beef beating you up, unc? Need me to let him know to be more gentle with the elderly?"
The old-looking man sitting at his work station grunted, "Eh, I'm old again, but remember that Blazer can lend me her amulet any time we need a speedster now. So don't go sassing me about my fucking age like you used to, or the next thing you know you'll be three counties over in the middle of a desert before you're even done with your smartass diss." The older man glanced up to Robert to catch his friend's hands going up in mock surrender, with obviously no venom in his words and a smirk on his face, before glancing back down at the rather rotund black and white chihuahua licking up the few remaining crumbs in his bowl.
As Chase reached into his desk drawer to pull out a new tin of dog food, Robert cleared his throat passive aggressively, "Hey now, you've already fed him at least three times today, the big guy doesn't need to add even more weight."
"Oh leave him be, you monster. Poor little baby needs all the treats possible to get over his fucking hostage trauma."
Robert laughed, "Please, we were more traumatized than he was, and you know it. Beef wasn't even aware of the danger until Elliot tried to take a pot shot at me."
Chase scoffed back up at him, "Yeah, and then he had to watch your invisible fuck up of a girlfriend, or whatever the hell she is, take a bullet for your sorry ass. And then he had to witness you beating Shroud to a bloody pulp for putting a boo-boo on that side piece of yours. That's a lot to go through for such a sweet guy, cathartic as that beatdown may have been for everyone else fucking there."
Robert winced slightly at the 'girlfriend' and 'side piece' references for Courtney, "Hey now, Chase, c'mon. Let's not start any rumors. You know I'm not dating anyone yet."
Chase rolled his eyes in the most exaggerated fashion imaginable. "Thank Christ for that, by the way. The way you've been mumbling to yourself and nervously glancing at the our boss and your thug protégé, you'd think you were the main character of one of those fucking Japanese cartoons you used to watch as a kid." Chase started snapping his left hand while pointing up to Robert, "You know, the ones where the main character is some little crybaby fuckwad that can't handle the torment of a gaggle of buxom bitches throwing themselves at him for forty fucking episodes? Talk about first world problems, 'ya lucky bastard." Again, all with no heat and a broad smile across his wrinkled face as he spoke.
"I'm not sure that topic came up in DBZ very often, or what anime you were watching instead of me, but I get what you're trying to say." Robert shrugged and smirked at the same time, trying to make it seem like he wasn't as bothered as he was. "I'm just not used to having actual emotions rather then suppressing them, you know? I didn't spend a lot my time as Mecha Man having interpersonal relationships, after all." Chase was about to make another wisecrack, when Robert's headset beeped, "Oh, sorry, duty calls, unc. Gotta wrangle in the clown show."
"Good luck, fucker," Chase whisper-shouted back as Robert sank back into his chair, hearing the tin of dog food open the very microsecond Robert could no longer see his dog and his enabler over the cubicle wall between them.
Robert quickly read the popup on his screen, "Okay team, looks like we have some kind of... I don't know, tech wizard shooting magic beams out of a staff by the warehouses on Prairie west of the refinery. Gonna need some firepower to smack him down. Flambae, Prism, Waterboy? You're all up. Flambae, you can be the tank, Prism be the distraction, and Waterboy give support as needed and put out any fires you see on site, got it?"
Their responses came back as various affirmatives, and Robert saw their icons speed over to their destination. The trio were obviously in a bit of an eager mood, as this was the first potentially exciting action of the day for them.
Robert leaned back, shaking his head at the conversation moments ago. While it was certainly nice to have Chase next to him again after a whirlwind week where he introduced the world to the new and improved Star Blazer, his practical older brother was making up for lost time by poking the bear over Robert's very confused feelings whenever possible. God forbid that a 31 year-old man have simultaneous crushes, after all.
... okay, his feelings towards Blonde Blazer and Invisigal were a bit more complicated than that, Robert had to admit to himself. He was clearly crazy for both of them.
Blonde Blazer, or rather Mandy, was seemingly perfect for him. She was a beauty without equal in either of her forms, even if her brunette self oftentimes had self-esteem issues when she compared her normie persona to her heroic blonde alter ego. More importantly, they just gelled together like they belonged and had been a comfortable thing for years already, whether they were talking as Blonde Blazer and Mecha Man, as Mandy and Robert, or any combination of their two selves. She was always patient, always eager, always there for him in a way that Robert just couldn't wrap his head around for the life of him. Whether she was in super hero mode, office manager mode, friend mode, or even potential girlfriend mode, she was always there for him, a rock of stability in a life that had had been chaotic for as long as he could remember.
But Visi... or Courtney, was just such a burst of energy for him. At least when she wasn't taking cheap shots or throwing sucker punches at him, Visi was always exciting and always captivating in a way that made spending any amount time with her feel invigorating. Boomer though he may be according to her, Robert felt like a much younger man even just shooting the shit with Courtney when she was recovering from wounds she had suffered saving his life. Their conversations flowed so easily, jumping topics and tone like hopscotch, and they could alternate between serious conversations to corny and suggestive flirting to cracking dumb jokes or gossiping all at the drop of a hat. Being with her just felt right.
He was so glad that Courtney was out of the hospital, her wound healed to the point where she could do administrative and light patrol work the past couple of days. Royd had also pulled a remarkable double whammy during her hospital time, as not only had he found a way to fix her Red Ring augment into being a piece of actual reliable tech for her, but he had also crafted an external pacemaker from the confiscated gang tech that SDN had taken after the battle ten days prior. In almost one fell swoop, Invisigal barely needed to deal with her inhalers anymore, Chase was back to the land of the living without a magical amulet, and Blonde Blazer was able to be active again as well. She and Chase had even come to a sort of agreement where they would handoff the amulet between them when convenient, allowing SDN to have Blonde Blazer or Star Blazer out on hero duty while Mandy or Chase would handle behind-the-scenes work doing office and dispatching work.
It was probably only a matter of time before the media and the internet realized the coincidence that Blonde Blazer and Star Blazer were never visible in the same place at the same time, but that eventual public recognition would be dealt with at some point down the road. For the time being, the world seemed to be more excited by the pair's now habitual, but separate, team ups with the new and improved Mecha Man Blue coming out of retirement after having collectively beat down the dastardly Shroud (one paper's words, not his) and avenging his legacy in the process.
But while the accolades and increased pay were certainly all flattering, Robert still was practically giving himself ulcers over not only his confused feelings towards Courtney and Mandy, but also uncertainty towards his professional career as well. He wasn't sure how he could balance his tasks as a hero and a dispatcher. On one hand, he had fifteen years of experience as one of the greatest heroes on the entire West Coast as Mecha Man, and now that SDN gave him a financial lifeline he no longer had to ruin his life for his mission. But on the other hand, he felt such immense satisfaction and pride in serving as a mentor to the rest of the Z-Team that he didn't want to give that up either.
The Z-Team were the heroes of the day, having vindicated the entire Phoenix Program's vision of giving villains a second chance to be heroes in a meaningfully successful program. SDN was already planning to start up additional such programs across their reach, with the San Diego, Oakland, Seattle, and Vancouver offices all wanting to get off the ground running, with a few more offices even in quieter cities like Salt Lake City and Phoenix not too far behind either. Being on the ground floor of this entire movement seemed to be too good for Robert Robertson III to pass up.
Robert wanted both tasks, but he didn't have the time to properly do both without driving himself crazy.
And more pressingly, he wanted both Courtney and Mandy, but he couldn't decide who he preferred. And he hated the idea of leading either of them on.
He sighed, glanced back at the clock, noted that there was still an hour to go. Wait, wasn't it an hour to go ten minutes ago? Why did he have to wallow in his own self pity in apparent slow motion?
An alarm on his screen broke him out of his inner thoughts. An SOS warning from Flambae. Robert snapped to attention, "What's going on, is everything okay."
"Not good, Bob-Bob!" Flambae shouted over the comms, with sounds of fighting in the background. "This bastard is a lot stronger than he looks. Bastard gave me a broken arm at least, and the hottie and the wet one don't have the firepower to make up for me getting winged!"
"Shit, okay, hold a moment." He glanced over at his team availability. Punch Up and Coupé were still out in the field putting down yet another fighting ring. Malevola and Sonar were occupied detaining a miniature hellspawn until the DTLA's occult team could permanently contain the beast. Visi and Golem were on their way back to the office, but on the opposite side of town. They wouldn't be able to get over to Flambae's team in time. Phenomaman and Blonde Blazer were technically both on emergency standby, but Robert knew that their shared meeting with the governor's staff in DTLA couldn't be interrupted unless there was a catastrophic emergency.
"Fuck it, I'm going to deploy. Flambae, I'll be there in three minutes. Mecha Man heading out." Robert tabbed an icon on his desktop to warn Royd he was coming down to the hangar, grabbed the Astral Pulse tightly in his hand, and bolted up before Flambae could respond, undoubtedly with some kind of crass response about his anatomy, "Chase, Galen, handle things here, please. Mecha Man is deploying."
Galen gave a thumbs up while Chase grunted, "Careful out there, kid," as Robert ran from his desk towards the stairs. Bounding down a flight at a time, Robert ran into the hangar barely twenty seconds after he had made the decision to deploy.
"Hey, brudda," the giant Samoan exclaimed, "Suit's all set to go, kick some ass out there, yah?"
"You got it, Royd," he tore off his work shirt and put on a simple flight jacket and his Mecha Man helmet to give at least some level of disguise to protect his identity if need be. He climbed swiftly into the cockpit of his suit, activated the Astral Pulse, and powered up his mech while going through the quickest possible pre-launch checklist possible.
The hanger door opened with a shudder and the suit raised to the surface with blaring klaxons warning anyone near the hidden launch pad to clear the area. Luckily, as Robert was elevated to the surface, nobody was idling around the back side of the SDN Torrance building. He could deploy without worrying about anyone being in his rockets' blast zone.
"Mecha Man is clear, deploying now." Robert was forced backwards into his seat as the fifteen-foot power armor launched into the perfect blue sky, off to the northwest to help his team in need.