There were days when Elias Powell truly felt his age.

Thirteen years ago, he'd been at his peak. At battle after battle, he'd stood tall against the invaders; his storms unrelenting, his lightning a thing to fear.

Twelve years ago, he'd become the first of Tanisport's 'official' heroes, on the city's payroll as part of the 'new social experiment' in bringing ultras into the fold once again.

The team had grown to four 'official' heroes calling the city home, seeking to make it a haven of law and justice.

Then Grumman had come along, and things had never been the same.

He'd faced the Grunters a few times before that, fighting them to a draw. One-on-one, he could throw down with either Gravitic or Tigerstrike and be confident of a stalemate, if not a victory.

And then one night, the Grunters had brought fifteen battlesuits to a fight, each the equal of an ultra. He'd barely escaped with his life, saved only by Viking's berserker state; the other ultra had shrugged off hundreds of laser blasts, buying time for the team to run, even as Gravitic - encased in a suit of his own - had hunted them, laughing as they hid.

Lumina and Quintana had survived with minor wounds, Viking had been hospitalized for a month…

And he'd discovered that deep down, Elias Powell no longer had what it took to be a top-tier hero.

He couldn't forget that night; he doubted the others would, either.

They'd believed, like the rest of the world, that inventors had to maintain their own powered armour. Most inventors could only maintain or operate a few suits, never dozens.

Grumman had turned that logic on its head, and turned the city of Tanisport into his personal playground.

To add insult to injury, he'd sent his suits to fight the aliens, taken the money paid to him by national governments, and used it to build more suits - which made the task of the Tanisport police and ultras even harder.

Elias had tried - oh, how he'd tried - to come up with a counterstrategy. He'd persuaded the mayor to hire Soundwave - the only inventor ready to come to Tanisport and place himself in opposition to Grumman. He'd reached out to other cities, asking their aid. He'd tried to convince several different donors to fund a response, ranging from the Federal government to private investors.

And now, he'd come to New York, to meet the last two people who might be able to help.

Dr. Magnetic had already turned him down.

That left his final card - the one favour he'd avoided calling in for years.

The Stratospheric Guard HQs were among the few places where a human could contact a member of the Skyguard Fifty. Usually, the booths were reserved months in advance for diplomats, family members or legal representatives, with a few reporters rounding out the daily lineup. The cost of his slot today had been significant, both in money and in favours - but hopefully it would be worth it.

So he told himself, as the screen lit up with the image of a man in a half-mask.

"Reconnect. Thank you for your time."

The ultra on the other end of the call smiled. "You're welcome anytime, Storm. How are things in Tanisport now?"

"We're still recovering from the attack, but reconstruction is under way. How are things on Skyguard?"

"Still recovering from the Lagos attack. Two funerals, two new members - it's started to blend into a kind of sameness after all these years."

"It's a long time since we last fought together."

"New Delhi, 2069. I remember. It was the last battle I fought before the Sled called me here."

"Twelve years is a long time to be on Skyguard."

The veteran inventor's lips crinkled together in a wry smile. "God willing, it will be much longer."

Powell blushed. "I'm sorry, that came out sounding wrong."

"Think nothing of it. Now, I assume you didn't set up this call just to catch up on old times. How can I help you?"

Elias chose his words carefully. “Tanisport needs help.”

“Go on.”

“The gangs have been steadily escalating their control since the attack. The Grunters in particular - most of the businesses in the city pay a shadow tax to them, a price for being left alone. If we don’t do something, they'll soon control every aspect of the city.”

“Have you spoken with your government?”

“Both federal and state authorities refuse to intervene.”

“Have you asked why?”

Elias tightened his lips.

The man on Skyguard frowned. “I understand it’s your home city, Flying Storm. But you know Skyguard’s policy.”

“The Skyguard Fifty don’t intervene in the internal affairs of any government. That’s not what I’m asking.”

“Then what?”

“We have an inventor - Soundwave - who might be able to put together a counter for Grumman’s suits. If he can collaborate with a few other technologies.”

“Such as?”

“Magnetic pulse rifles - those would punch through Grumman’s suits. Also, a force of two to three hundred Mark Six combat drones.”

A pained smile crossed Reconnect’s face. “And you want me to authorize diverting a shipment of combat drones for Tanisport.”

“Yes.”

“Drones which would normally be shipped to Skyguard, as part of our defensive complement.”

Elias swallowed. “Skyguard receives tens of thousands of drones each month. I’m asking for a very small number.”

“Skyguard also loses tens of thousands of drones each month, Storm. Drones of my design. Drones that use the best technology I can come up with, and consume a significant chunk of global manufacturing capacity. Drones that we need to hold the line against the Hierarchy.”

“Most of them would survive, Reconnect. I’m asking a loan for maybe a month. Long enough to defeat Grumman, and we’ll send them up on the next shipment of the Sled.”

Reconnect shook his head. “Storm - do you even understand what you’re asking for?”

“We need help, Reconnect. You’re in charge of Earth’s entire drone fleet. You can divert a few for a month, right?”

“I’m commander of Skyguard’s Drone Swarm - we don’t call it a fleet, by the way. And I have my superiors.”

“You’re third-in-command of Skyguard, for heaven’s sake.” Elias couldn’t stop the desperation from creeping into his voice. “You just have to convince Lightstar and Bastion.”

“First, you have to convince me, Storm.”

Elias swallowed. “We need to stop Grumman from taking over the city. I’m asking for your help….”

“Storm. Out of respect for our association, I’m going to explain to you what the flaws in your case are. Will you show me the same respect and listen?”

“... Of course, Reconnect.”

“Your plan assumes that you can take out Grumman’s forces with three hundred odd drones armed with mag-pulse rifles. That’s Dr. Magnetic’s tech. Has he agreed to provide them to you?”

“Not yet. I’m working on bringing him around.” And it would greatly help if Reconnect put in a word, but Elias didn’t want to bring that up yet.

“I’ve been trying to convince him to ship more rifles to Skyguard for a year. Given that he refuses every time, I don't think highly of your chances. Also, you assume that three hundred drones would be enough - did Soundwave work that number out?”

“Yes.”

“He’s wrong. You’d need at least twice that.”

Elias couldn’t keep the disbelief off his face. “But the Mark Sixes are the best in the world…”

“For space combat. We don’t make specialized ground combat drones because we don’t have spare capacity. Also, the best ground drones are about an even match for a Summoner’s constructs, except that constructs don’t cost a quarter million dollars to replace.”

“Soundwave is confident.”

“Soundwave specializes in sound manipulation tech. I specialize in drone and AI design. Take a guess who’s likely to have a better understanding of the capabilities of the Mark Six.”

Elias couldn’t very well question the man who designed the Mark Six. Instead, he tried a different tack. “Maybe we could get the right summoners to help, then. Someone who can project an army of constructs…”

“Do you know what the fundamental problem with both constructs and drones is?”

It was a basic question, to which Elias had heard the answer a hundred times. “Constructs can’t think for themselves and drones have limited AI. A sufficiently trained battlesuit can outthink both of them.”

“Grumman has about thirty battlesuits. If he - and his troops - take the field, they’ll wipe out the drone command centre first, and kill the summoners. At which point your entire strategy falls apart.”

"The Mark Six has autonomous control functions…."

"I designed them, and they're not that autonomous. We haven't had an inventor capable of building a true AI since Avatar..." Reconnect trailed off. "Sorry. Old memories."

Elias acknowledged the man's slip with a nod. "I apologise, I never met Avatar. Which country was he from?"

"She, actually. Avatar was doing some promising work on AI until 2067, when she suddenly dropped off the radar. I suspect she might have been killed in the Detroit attack."

"How did you know her?"

"Avatar taught me a great deal about control systems design. For a price, of course, but some of that knowledge kept me alive. If she'd lived, they might have been able to create an actual AI someday." Reconnect shrugged. "Bygones. In any case, drones or constructs are capable of far less than you imagine. Human intelligence, coupled with hundreds of years of military training doctrine, can make a more effective soldier than a computer program any day. Machine intelligence can't innovate. Can't truly learn."

"We can put operators behind the drones…."

"Drones that we can't spare from Skyguard." Reconnect sighed. "Armed with mag-pulse rifles that you don’t have, backed by summoners who you haven’t spoken to. All to confront an ultra who has fought multiple alien incursions.”

“He’s a villain. He runs a gang, for crying out loud!”

“So does Chikaradzuyoi. We’ve had villains serve on Skyguard before. In all likelihood, Grumman will too. Someday.”

“That’s not guaranteed.”

“Not if someone kills him first, that’s true. But he’s ninth in the leaderboards now. Dr. Magnetic is first. Do you understand what that means?”

Elias nodded bitterly. “Even Dr. Magnetic is afraid of fighting him.”

“Dr. Magnetic is more concerned with the possibility that both he and Grumman will be on Skyguard together. We have a bond of trust up here - it’s just the fifty of us against the alien armada, and we need to know that one won’t stab the other in the back. Old hates and grudges can’t be allowed to get in the way, nor do we go out of the way to create new ones.”

“Then Grumman has a get-out-of-jail-free card.”

“Grumman’s crimes are a problem for the U.S. - specifically, for one city in Florida. Dr. Magnetic has his own concerns in New York, and doesn’t see the need to fight a man who he may need by his side someday.”

“You’ll let him up there if the Sled calls him.”

“You know Bastion’s principle. The service of Skyguard erases all debts. To society, to the law, to the rest of humanity.” Reconnect’s expression hardened. “How many times have the ultras of Tanisport fought the aliens, Storm?”

“We were in the frontlines in August.”

“When the aliens came to you. Did you fight at Lagos? How many battles before that?”

Elias swallowed. “I’ve come whenever I could.”

“At Lagos, we had Grumman’s battlesuits and three others from Tanisport. Tigerstrike, Ultragorilla, and Serpentor. All your ganglords. None of the five ultras who call themselves ‘heroes’.”

He’d known this was coming. “It’s supposed to be voluntary. We had our hands full protecting the city…”

“From villains. The same villains who showed up to defend Lagos.”

“They only did it for the money.”

“Plenty of heroes have the same reasons. The U.N. is happy to pay.”

“And Skyguard takes everyone, no matter their morals. Would you be so willing if it was someone more dangerous? Like Moral Bael, or Agni?”

A twisted grin crossed Reconnect’s face. “You know, it’s a question we ask ourselves often enough. The Sled chooses who to let on, not us. If the Sled picks Grumman, we will work with him for the greater good. If the Sled picks Agni…” The ultra shrugged. “There are those on Skyguard revulsed by the idea of collaborating with her. They’re a minority.”

“So you’d even let the supervillain with a six-figure body count onto the station.”

“Facing and defeating the aliens in battle is the only sure way to increase your chances of being picked by the Sled. By the time someone’s chosen to serve, they’ve usually earned their place - and the respect of those up here.”

Elias slumped back in place, defeated. “So you’ll do nothing.”

“When I was seventeen, I swore an oath. Atop Mount Masada, where my father and grandfather swore theirs. It was simple enough - Masada shall not fall again. I will keep that oath, no matter who I have to work with to make it happen. What is your oath, Flying Storm?”

Elias had no answer to that question.