"This is going to be so cool. I just wish we hadn't had to spend so much on it," Uber said to his friend as his eyes flicked across the different screens and controls. Five million dollars! And that was after Leet worked like a maniac for weeks!

"I've got the camera-drone maker churning out extra remotes so that this gets televised from all angles. We can't do our normal thirty minute delay. This is going to be so loud that we'll probably even have the networks show up," Leet said with a smile on his haggard face. His power had been working better for the last few months while he worked on his new baby. All for this upcoming confrontation. This battle!

Uber nodded to his friend, then turned and looked at the giant mecha behind him. It was a lot less human looking than Newtype's mecha, but he wanted to see those missile launcher in action.

"Mechwarrior was a stroke of genius, man," he told his friend.

Leet just grinned as he reached for more coffee.

Taylor left school, deep in thought. For once, it was not about her latest Tinker project. Since the ABB imploded just a few weeks ago, Emma and Sophia had been acting odd. They still denigrated her verbally whenever she was around and actively punished anyone that talked to her or tried to be friendly, but their attacks had become far less frequent and nothing physical at all.

It was odd. And whoever had been following her home from school had stopped. A nagging feeling made her think that they were connected, somehow.

Down the street came a public transit bus. Taylor trotted over to the nearest bus stop, standing eagerly next to an old man in battered clothing. Her new project was shaping up nicely and left her with a small problem. What was she going to do with the RX-72? Her next project was nearing completion as she kept adding more functionality to her 'workshop'.

The young Tinker grabbed three tacos from a cart on the corner, then worked on passing through the entry room. It was more of a security 'airlock' and scanner.

"Bossssss! Bossssss!" her robots all shouted from the various places they were working on.

"Hey guys! Progress report?" she asked as she checked her email from Kid Win. It included a schematic of his new anti-gravity generator he currently struggled to design.

"Power test! Power test!" a red Haro squealed.

Taylor blinked at that. "The Mark 3.5 Minovsky reactor is ready for preliminary ignition?"

"Roger! Roger!" they shouted.

She narrowed her eyes at her little workers as they moved their construction exo-frames to test position. That put them a week in advance of her plan. It seemed like they were learning how to be more efficient ever since she networked them.

The new mecha sat there as a dull gray behemoth. The chest area had been changed and it now sported eight pylons that lay up against its back like folded up wings. It had the same distinctive 'face' with dual cameras that looked like eyes.

"Alert! Alert!" a Haro shouted. "PRT Broadcast! Police Broadcast!"

The cheerful robot put it on the overhead speakers. "-all units, keep an eye out for for Newtype. We are detecting seismic activity that appears to be a large robot travelling along the coast to the north of Brockton Bay and near the edge of the Ship Graveyard. No confirmation that Newtype is active has-"

"Prep the RX-72, Haro." Taylor narrowed her eyes in thought. "Has to be Uber and Leet. That's why they haven't been seen or heard in a month." She headed to the changing room to grab her 'flight suit'.

"Audio call!" a blue Haro called out.

Taylor stopped, turning back. "Audio only; accept call."

"Newtype, this is Armsmaster. Are you currently testing any of your mecha?" the Protectorate Tinker asked.

"No, Armsmaster. Since we haven't heard anything from Leet and Uber, I figure the two of them are the likely culprits."

"That is my assessment. And with it being on the abandoned northern side of the Ship's Graveyard, it is obvious that they are spoiling for a fight. Protectorate Thinkers unfortunately also believe that if you do not show up within two hours that Leet and Uber will use whatever they have made to cause extreme property damage."

Ten minutes later she buckled into her acceleration chair as the hatch closed above her. Water roared in from pipes and valves, filling the drydock. Thrusters at minimum, the Gundam RX-72 shot through to the deeper part of the bay.

Inside, the Haros closed up behind her and immediately turned to the new mobilesuit.

"Prepare to launch!" a green Haro ordered.

"Prepare to launch! Prepare to launch!" they chorused, closing up panels with machine precision.

"Here she comes!" Leet called out as the RX-72A exploded out of the water. "Positive contact on LIDAR and RADAR. Burned right through our counter-measures."

The Battlemaster (or as close as Leet could build) stepped away from the mobile invisibility emitters that shot off and away from battle. They would return once the huge, blocky mech defeated the local hero.

Glowing lights flared in blue, white, red and yellow stars in the air about them.

"In the reigning champion's corner and from a far off future of battle, the Battlemaster of Mechwarrior fame piloted by Uber! In the contender's corner, Brockton Bay's is the crappily named RX-72 piloted by the kid called Newtype!" Leet called out to the cadence of a trained performer as the background music played.

"It's the Gundam RX-72," Newtype said as she cracked his transmission.

"Ah, annoying interruption and correction, it's a stupidly named mecha Gundam RX-72. Seventy-two failures? Man, and I'm called a loser and you just showed me up, bitch," Leet called out, trash-talking just like when playing online.

"You're..." The young cape wanted to just punch him even as she readied herself psychically and physically for the fight. "You're just a stupid gamer jerk."

"Well, yeah. Duh," Leet said. "What? You think being a competitive gamer would be nice? Most of us are assholes. At least part of the time."

"The nice ones can leave the trash-talk behind after the game. Leet, on the other hand, not so much. And he broods for days after a bad loss," Uber said even as he triggered the particle projection cannon.

The gundam dipped to the right and blocked with its shield.

"Oops. My bad," Uber said as he held down the trigger on his left controller for the dual .50 caliber machine gun cannons on the other arm.

Newtype set the Gundam jogging to the right so that its shield could block most of the shots coming at it. A burst of rockets launched it out of the way of a second PPC shot.

"Well, at least with Uber piloting that hunk of junk, this won't be boring," Newtype said for her own trash talk.

"Oh, you little cunt. Target is locked," Leet said from his seat right behind and up above Uber.

On the Battlemaster's shoulder, a blocky panel opened to show a double row of three missiles. They fired off in rapid sequence at the Gundam's large, vertical profile.

Newtype triggered her jump-jets back even as the head vulcan's quickly exploded all but one missile. The last one hit the Gundam's large shield and blasted part of it away.

"Shit. Okay, my turn," Newtype said as she brought up her ranged urban weapon choice, a 200mm rifle cannon. The Gundam RX-72 spun in a tight spiral that let the PPC's pulse shoot through the air right next to it.

The Battlemaster tromped forward while it ignored the cannon shots. It could take a lot of hits of even that caliber.

"Not bringing heavier weapons might be a problem," Newtype muttered as she checked to make sure she had cut her transmission. Time to try the rocket hammer. She sidestepped another barrage of missiles as she tested her theory on their guidance system. Or lack thereof.

The machine gun cannon landed on the ground as the Gundam charged and grabbed the rocket hammer from its socket behind the shield. With a woosh, the Gundam launched into the air to slam the rocket hammer home.

Or so went the plan.

The triple lasers in each arm of the Battlemaster ruined that and took out the rocket hammer and the Gundam's head in one salvo.

"SHIT!" Newtype shouted. Why did her danger sense fail? She narrowed her eyes even as she dodged back and away behind a two story, dilapidated warehouse. Had to be an automatic, pre programmed response based on her first fight with Lung.

She could get close and try the beam saber, as it is new and not publically shown. But those lasers cut through the Gundam's armor like a hot knife through cold butter. It could block an attack, maybe two attacks but would fail after even three hits. And being triple lasers... they did that almost instantly.

A blinking light on the 3D radar HUD caught her attention. Oh, that would work perfectly.

Uber almost yawned as the Gundam RX-72 kept trying to hide behind the few, abandoned warehouses in the area. The slow use of the PPC and triple-lasers in the arms methodically blew up the cover and kept forcing it from cover. Damn heat build up.

The Gundam exploded in a flare of white light behind the last warehouse.

"Did she just Stackpole? Holy shit, we weren't trying to kill her!" Leet shouted to Uber and their fans.

"Doesn't make sense. Nothing I shot hit her right then," Uber said as he felt a smidge of worry. The type of worry that usually told him to run before the Protectorate showed up.

"Huh?" his partner asked.

A stubby little fighter shot out of the explosion, wings unfolding even as the front locked into position. It flew around erratically near the buildings and the ground. The core fighter almost pancaked before Newtype got control.

"We got it, Mr. Pink?" she shouted due to the adrenaline.

"Got it! Got it!" the Haro replied.

"Then let's do it. Synchronizing," Newtype said as the core fighter shot over the bay and slowed down.

Below the core fighter, a bulge of water followed by a massive spray.

Leet leaned forward, studying the far off image. "She is not doing that, is she? Bull shit if she pulls off an upgrade mid battle. You don't just do that!"

A light-gray Gundam broke the surface, flying horizontally even as the core fighter barrel-rolled to fly upside down over its head. The cockpit panel opened as the canopy of the core fighter ejected.

"Ready, Mr. Pink?" she shouted. "GO!"

She stood up in the forty mile per hour winds and grabbed the edge of the new Gundam's cockpit. The core fighter pulled up smoothly and let her hand be hands and hold on. Then, after the hardest pull-up of her life, she tumbled into the new gundam.

The hatch closed, leaving it almost silent as Newtype scrambled and crawled into the seat laying on its back. Her eyes flickered over all of the controls in the blink of an eye.

"Activate phase-shift armor, Miss Olive-green," she ordered even as she nudged up the power on the plant to eighty percent.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Uber said to his partner in the Battlemaster.

"You always have a bad feeling, buddy. It's kind of a downer- Oh, wow. It turned colorful," the Tinker of the pair said, distracted by shiny, shiny technology.

Blue, white, red and metallic gold flowed as current passed through the new armor. Newtype shoved the controls up halfway and brought the gundam to hover over the bay. It spread the pylons on its back to reveal eight wings that flared with white energy.

"Break into their broadcast, Olive-green," she ordered. The Haro's eyes flashed to acknowledge the order. "So, Leet? This is my second mobilesuit. The anti-Endbringer RX-2000 Strike Freedom Gundam. I don't have to reuse my old projects constantly." She shoved the thruster control to full power and shot up into the sky.

"Oh, shit. It flies. I thought you said that was impossible, Leet?" Uber said as he started to fire the triple lasers in each arm.

"I said 'with our resources'," he shot back.

A flare of energy burst from the Strike Freedom's left forearm, deflecting the energy barrage with only minimal drain to reserves.

"That's pretty bullshit-"

"Not now, Uber! Firing missiles!" Leet called out as the mighty war machine tromped away towards the escape vehicle.

All six missiles shot towards the gundam, which veered to the left and spun into a barrel roll. The pretty dumb seekers tried to follow, but lost tracking and scattered into the air harmlessly. They exploded thousands of feet in the air and far away from anyone.

"I think I'll call this beam spam," Newtype said with a small smile on her face. The Strike Freedom flipped to hover on its feet and back thrusters even as all eight 'wings' and two hip cannons rotated to face the Battlemaster. Ravening beams of green and red spat out to targeted locations on the opposing mecha.

Both arms and legs were removed at shoulder and hips even as the head ceased to exist.

"Fucking super robots! Bullshit! Tinkers are bullshit!" Uber shouted. He told Leet they should have made a more maneuverable mecha, but he wanted more guns to prove they were better.

He managed to fire one last burst from the PPC and machine guns before the whole world spun and crashed as the Battlemaster to land on its face.

"Do you want to surrender?" Newtype asked.

She took their pained groans as 'yes'.

Armsmaster flipped the kickstand of his motorcycle out and leaned it steady. He then dismounted smoothly as he showed his ease with the vehicle.

PRT trucks rolled up to surround the downed mecha. The troopers exited the back of the trucks to take over the scene and start to extract Leet and Uber.

Five minutes later, under the watchful gaze of the new mobilesuit, a trooper called out, "I've got them. They aren't resisting."

The villain duo looked despondent from their loss as they got cuffed and read their rights. The Strike Freedom knelt down and the cockpit hatch opened. Newtype put her foot into the zipline stirrup and lowered herself down.

"Hey, Armsmaster!" she called out as she started to feel the pain from her fight.

He walked over and frowned. "Do you realize you are bleeding?"

"Huh? Where?" she asked as she started to visually check herself out. "Oh."

A thin line of blood traced the length of the where the crash harness went over her shoulders.

"It's not much-"

"Newtype, you are an ally of the Protectorate and Wards. That means you get some of the benefits, like medical care. Or I will have to talk to your father about this on our weekly telephone call," the leader said.

"What are they going to do? Just bandage it? I can do that at home," she replied in an untrusting tone.

"Only until we can see if Panacea is available. If she has the time, we'll get you all healed up. And considering the mess you made of things, the fact you are only this injured is a good thing. Leet went all out on this one, which I don't get.

Ten minutes later Glory Girl and Panacea landed on the ground next to the heroes.

"Thanks, Hamilton. Wait for Miss Militia and Triumph to show up for escort, then take them down to the PRT headquarters and put them in the higher security row," Armsmaster finished to the PRT soldier in charge. "Glory Girl, Panacea; thanks for taking the time come out."

"No problem. Glad to see those two behind bars again. They knocked dad out on the ground that time they did the supernatural themed attack on Halloween." Glory Girl turned to Newtype. "Nice to meet another successful independent hero."

"I'm sort of a Protectorate associate, but dad handles the legal stuff. Leaves me more time to work on my anti-Endbringer weapons. This guy isn't actually ready. I haven't finished all the weapons and a booster rocket to get it anywhere in a thousand miles in just minutes," Newtype explained.

"I'll need to be able to touch your skin to heal you," the mousey Panacea said softly.

"Oh, sorry." Newtype unsealed her gloves from the flight suit and pulled them off. "Here you go."

Panacea touched her hand and let her power tell her about the body's injuries. "Only some bruising, the laceration on the shoulder and that collar bone is cracked. Simple enough. Um... Are you a Case 53?" she asked.

"Uh, no? Why would you think that? I mean, I know my dad and I don't look like a mutant reject from a Troma film," Newtype asked in confusion.

"Have you done any genetic modification?" Panacea continued after Newtype shook her head. "Because you aren't fully human any more. You're... better? Your body has been improved. Stronger, tougher, disease resistant and I have no idea what's going on with your nervous system." Panacea sounded a bit weirded out about the situation.

"Weird. I've sort of suspected that my power optimized my body for piloting my mobilesuit," she replied.

"That is rare. And you didn't lie about the genetic modification," Armsmaster said casually.

Newtype frowned at that, as Armsmaster sounded very certain. Some sort of Tinker sensor? It would not be that hard.

Nor would the genetic engineering to do what Panacea told her of her own body.

"Well, I need to clean up and let my dad know I'm fine-" Newtype said, only to stop talking and look over her shoulder.

The Endbringer alarms started to howl.

"Damn," Glory Girl said loudly.