Massive Disaster 4-11

“Fire in the hole!”

Zedd let out a low sigh at the sound of Toni’s shout through her suit’s speakers, the pink-haired girl enjoying this far too much.

Not that there was a minimum amount of enjoyment for something like this but-

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Kinesis-module-tipped micromissiles made contact as she launched them from her suit, the eighteen-year-old girl cackling heard loud and clear even amid the chaos.

The simulation arena was pretty much a gladiator pit, and that was the best way he could describe it. The entire white space was all holographic projectors and weaponized mechs of various design all filling the area carved out about a couple hundred feet beneath his property where nobody could ask awkward questions about explosions, screaming, zoning permits or anything stupid like that. 

“Okay…” Pedro let out a hard cough as he took a non-lethal kinetic pulse to the side in mid-air, not quick enough to avoid it after already ducking another, “definitely feeling that one.”

I gave you enhanced senses, man. Use them. Zedd leaned against the observation box railing, watching his enhanced recruits try not to get themselves killed by what were effectively metal training dummies armed with non-lethal everything. Reinforced transparisteel separated him from the carnage below and keeping him from jumping in, which was probably for the best considering how badly this was going.

Nina and Kira flanked him on either side, both young women still processing the whole surprise, the entire I’ve been building a private army revelation he’d dropped on them over the past hour and a half. Their faces carried that particular blend of shock and calculation that came from learning pretty much that.

Which…

He clicked his tongue against his teeth once and then again, rolling the thought around in his head. I mean, it makes sense, honestly. Most people wouldn’t really expect that he moonlighted as an enhanced human trafficker, even if it was technically the legal and consenting kind.

He tapped his fingers against the railing, slow and steady, one by one, finger by finger, the silver ring on his index finger seeming to shine a little brighter on every tap. Down below, Pedro swung between cover points like some kind of caffeinated monkey — or exactly like the Spider-Man of my fuckin’ dreams — momentum carrying him past where he needed to be while his teammates scrambled to adapt.

The simple fact was that all of this was as self-indulgent as it was relevant to his goals and after starting with Caleb, he honestly wasn’t sure he would be happy until he had a properly optimized team.

Maybe even several.

The entire team, with the distinct exception of Bastion, were all in electric blue and white fitted jumpsuits, perfect for combat and ready for battle.

Yet as ready to fight as they were, they simply weren’t doing as good of a job as he fucking wanted. He knew it was too much to expect them to be ready, but he also didn’t expect them to all be playing their own little games, instead of coming together.

Adele stood off to the side, NicStic glowing between her fingers as she monitored biometrics on her datapad, occasionally muttering something in French that one hundred percent wasn’t complimentary to him or any of his goals. Yet, he didn’t judge her for it, not in the slightest. He knew she had been stressed out recently, what with the accelerated doctor’s program he had her go through (Clear had come in really fucking handy even though she never wanted to touch the stuff again) and her having to lie and claim his Medigel-V as her own invention for press reasons to keep the Alliance and Citadel at least slightly off his back. It had not been exactly easy on her but she had done it because he needed her to and he was never going to fault her for any stress over it.

“ADAM, cycle the Batarian raider scenario,” Zedd called out, not bothering to look at the edge of the transparisteel HUD to his right where his NetNavi’s avatar flickered to life. “They’re treating this like individual practice instead of team training.”

“You know it, bossdad,” ADAM winced as Zedd rolled his eyes. “Pushing it up another fifteen percent because Pedro keeps showing off instead of covering his teammates.” The NetNavi crossed his arms over his chest, a digital eyebrow raised on his avatar as he seemed to stare down at the GUARDIAN recruits in the arena below. Odd, considering the Navi had access to all the cameras, but Navis were effectively digital humans so it probably felt natural. “At this rate, he’s gonna web himself to a wall again.”

As if on cue, down in the simulation arena, Pedro hit the ground hands-first and pushed off, bounding into the air several dozen feet high, and pointed his palms downward in the hand sign Zedd had instructed him to use his shooters in.

Rapid bursts of stark-white polymer burst from his wrist-shooters and hardened into anchor points, his hands thrusting out faster and faster to the point that any normal person would be more likely to see blurs than anything else

Impressive, yeah, Zedd could admit that, even when he knew exactly what level of ability Pedro was going to have even before he began the crossgene upgrades. He moves just like I expected.

Problem was, as impressive as Pedro was, his Agent Spider just kept overshooting his landings, way too over-eager as he treated the exercise like a solo exhibition instead of coordinated combat tactics training. Scot’s eye beams lanced out in controlled violet bursts, surgical precision carving through holographic enemies, but he had to keep adjusting his aim as Pedro’s unpredictable trajectory threw off the targeting solutions.

“This is what you’ve been working on?” Nina asked, her voice carrying that particular tone she used when she was trying not to sound judgmental but absolutely was. “When you said you were moving towards colonial defense initiatives…”

“I wasn’t lying,” Zedd replied, watching Madelyn’s red hair burst into flickering orange flame as she screamed out a torrent of fire from her mouth to fill the gap Pedro’s showboating had left in their killbox. “Just wasn’t telling the whole truth either.”

The N7 among them (Not Kai, Kai was taking his mandatory day off once a month) was staring at everything going on, her blue eyes probably tracking every single Alliance law being broken and Council agreement being shattered right in front of her. “I… I… wow, okay, you’re just doing this, aren’t you?” Her voice came out strained, like she was still trying to process the scale of what she was seeing.

Zedd clicked his tongue again, not bothering to look over at her. “Gonna have to be more specific there, Special Ops Barbie.” Even without looking away from Patrick, the shirtless former merc turned miner, as he took blasts that would bruise skin without flinching as patches of his skin turned metallic gray, he could tell Kira was frowning deep at that new nickname. “There is a lot that I’m doing right now. This really isn’t the biggest.”

“Not even the…” KIra shook her head, pushing that aside. “No, this is insane. These are enhanced humans. Like…” She swallowed slow as she glanced back through the viewscreen, clearly unsure at what she was looking at, “Beyond military-grade enhancement. I don’t even know how any of this is possible.”

“Enhanced, yeah. Military-grade’s a stretch.” Zedd rubbed his ring again, feeling the familiar weight of the sapphire against his finger. “Most of them are still thinking like civilians who happen to have powers.”

“Beacon, adjust fire pattern three degrees left,” Caleb’s voice crackled through the comm system from the floor-level observation room. “Spider’s about to swing into your line of fire.”

“Got it,” Scot replied, tone clipped with concentration. His next blast took out two Batarian projections, shearing the mechs behind the holograms, but left another gap that Madelyn had to cover with a burst of flame that turned a fifteen-foot cone of space directly in front of her into a small inferno. Coordination was there, barely, held together by Caleb’s tactical callouts rather than any real team instinct.

Toni’s BASTION armor moved like a walking tank through the simulation, pink and white plating absorbing impacts that would have flattened unenhanced humans. The suit was modular the way he and Toni had worked to design together and it moved beautifully, albeit bulkily.

Despite the size, the thing shifted configuration mid-combat, shoulder-mounted and wrist-installed weapons deploying and retracting based on tactical requirements that her cybernetic interface processed faster than conscious thought. Problem was she kept treating the exercise like a solo mission, charging ahead without coordinating with her teammates’ movements.

Just like everybody fuckin’ else on her team, Zedd thought with a frown.

“You built sentient AIs. Is that the thing you said was bigger than this, because I’m not… I’m… Yeah, I’m not sure…,” Nina said, her gaze shifting between the combat below and the AI avatars on the screens. The statement landed somewhere between awe and terror, which was probably the appropriate response.

“NetNavis,” ADAM corrected with obvious pride, his avatar grinning on the main display. “We’re a bit more sophisticated than your average VI. Think of us as digital people rather than sophisticated programs.”

“Digital people with access to military-grade sensor networks and tactical databases,” ANGEL added helpfully, her young features bright with enthusiasm. “Though I prefer to focus on medical applications rather than combat scenarios.”

Zedd caught himself almost smiling at that. ANGEL’s avatar looked like a sixteen-year-old nurse in all gold and white, all bright optimism and Swiss voice, but her personality was pure healing-focused dedication wrapped in enough processing power to run a small colony’s medical infrastructure. 

Made sense that she’d prefer patch-up work to combat analysis.

“Bastion, hold position,” Dev’s voice cut through the combat noise from below. “You’re leaving your squad exposed.”

“I can handle the front line,” Toni’s reply came muffled through her helmet’s speakers, modulated by the BASTION suit’s vocal processors. “They should be supporting me, not the other way around.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Zedd muttered, watching as Marilyn had to adjust her electrical attacks to avoid hitting Toni’s armor. Arc’s white hair whipped around her face as she channeled lightning between her fingertips, but the power kept earthing out against the BASTION suit’s conductive plating instead of reaching its intended targets. Physics was a bitch like that.

On the arena floor, Mateo blurred from place to place across the arena with speed that was outright inhuman, silver hair fluttering behind him as he moved faster than most eyes could track. His enhanced reflexes and cybernetic augmentations let him process the battlefield in slow motion, but he kept getting frustrated when his teammates couldn’t keep up with his rapid repositioning. Ana tried to coordinate with her brother, purple energy misting around her hands as she attempted to provide psionic support, but even their shared connection couldn’t bridge the speed gap.

“Do you have any idea what the Council would do if they found out?” Nina asked, eyes still wide even as she flicked between the Navis on the screen and the chaos down below. “I heard shit like this gets Spectres called on you, Zee.”

Kira pulled a frown, or at least an odd face, as she turned his way. “I mean… she’s not wrong. That’s what Spectres are for, all the way down to secret kill orders for anything that might destabilize the galaxy.”

“The fuckin’ Council can kiss the blackest part of my ass,” Zedd replied just as blunt as ever, his attention split between the conversation and the tactical failures below. “The day I care about alien law when I’m not in their territory is the day you can have my company for free.”

Kira’s expression had shifted into something harder, more analytical, as she flashed Zedd the kind of look N7 operatives got when they were dead serious. She just wasn’t anywhere as good as Kai happened to be when it came down to it, and not just with the look. “You don’t just care about what’s legal, do you?”

The question hung in the air for several seconds before Zedd slowly turned to face his friend, tongue pushing at one side of his cheek as he mentally pulled back on his words. “Kira, from the bottom of my big ol’ heart, I love you…”

“You’re gonna say something really dickish, aren’t you?

Zedd’s sigh was long and drawn out. “… I know you’ve been busy back on Terra Firma, but one of us has been around the Terminus the last year and I’ve seen some shit. There are entire human-founded colonies in the Terminus and Traverse with literal slavery of all kinds, and I’m gonna be real, that includes the sexual,” he paused for a moment or two, turning his head back for a moment to watch Hector move through the exercise with mechanical precision. Heh. 

With his new body, the cyborg could and did respond to threats with inhuman efficiency, but even he operated like a solo unit, covering his own angles without communicating his intentions to the rest of the team. “Hell, the Asari have a whole planet damn near touching tips with the Citadel that’s full of slaves, except they call them indentured servants and have fancy contracts. So, I’m gonna need you to get aaaaaalllll the way off my back, soldier girl.”

Kira’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t argue the point.

Mostly because she couldn’t.

The N7 knew he was right and she clearly hated that fact, a hand halfway to pulling on one of her dual blue pigtails. Nina remained quiet, though Zedd caught her glancing between him and the enhanced humans below with eyes that barely hid her shock.

Below them, the training exercise continued its chaos as multiple mechs in the form of holographic Batarian raiders closed in on the GUARDIAN subjects from multiple angles.

Yet, the closer they inched in, the more the cracks in everything showed. Damn it.

On paper, the team should have been able to handle the scenario easily with their combined abilities, even with the overwhelming constant wave of force and mech frames Zedd was flooding them with. Despite what theory would say, practice showed otherwise as coordination failures kept creating gaps in their defense.

Patrick, aka Subject TITAN, showed this well enough. The former mercenary stood nearly still, moving forward at a slow yet steady pace, as his nanobiotic skin hardened and dulled to steel-like consistency, projectiles plinking off his enhanced form. Despite his near-invulnerability surpassing the defensive attributes of anyone else on the team, the massive man positioned himself to protect his own flanks rather than covering his teammates’ weaknesses.

If that was the only problem, it would have been easily manageable.

Unfortunately…

“Vectr, for the third time and the last time, you need to slow down,” Caleb sounded over the systems, both directly into the ears of his intended target, and into Zedd’s viewing box. “Your team can’t anticipate where you’ll be if you keep changing positions every two seconds.”

“Maybe they should get faster,” the silver-haired speedster shot back. Despite that, he still did decelerate somewhat, but going from four-hundred kilometers per hour to three-hundred-twenty was less impactful than you’d think, especially in an already chaotic situation like this.

“Maybe you should learn patience,” Ana replied, her voice clearly edged with something a little harsher. Another failure point. Enhanced speed versus an enhanced mind, both frustrated by the limitations of working with supposedly inferior teammates, when their own teamwork was suffering already.

“Alloy, hard shift left,” Dev commanded from his observation post. “Cover Arc’s blind spot.”

Patrick’s response came in his typical economical style. “Handling my sector, boss.”

“Your sector’s secure,” Dev shot back, a bit of edge creeping into his voice. “Arc needs backup.”

Charles, the recruit codenamed Blindspot, remained silent throughout the exercise, his enhanced vision tracking targets through his omni-bow’s haptic interface. When he fired, steel rods found their marks with mechanical precision, but he prioritized high-value targets over tactical support, leaving his teammates to deal with threats he could have eliminated more efficiently. It was simple sniper mentality, only applied to team combat, which was about as effective as it sounded.

ANGEL’s avatar materialized on a secondary screen, her young features creased with concern as she monitored the team’s vital signs. “Heart rates are elevated beyond optimal parameters. Stress hormones indicate significant interpersonal friction rather than combat focus.”

“They’re not gelling,” Zedd observed, carefully tracking the screens on the HUD of the transparisteel in front of him, subtle signs of frustration and disappointment radiating from his recruits along with everything else. Elevated heart rates, tense postures, the particular kind of silence that came from people trying not to say things they’d regret later. “They’re thinking like individuals who happen to have powers, not like a unit.”

The exercise ended badly. 

Not catastrophically, but badly enough that Zedd could feel the disappointment radiating from Caleb and Dev’s observation post. The holographic enemies had achieved their objective while his enhanced team bickered over positioning and priority targeting. 

Technical failure across multiple metrics, which was exactly what he’d been afraid of.

“Well,” Dr. Martinueau muttered to herself as she crumpled up the rest of her NicStic, Zedd still catching each and every word like she had said it aloud right in his ear, “that was all sorts of educational, now wasn’t it?”

Kira folded her arms over her chest, covering her N7 logo, as she watched all the GUARDIAN recruits milling downstairs and generally ambling towards the center of the arena. “Huh…”

“Trust takes time,” Zedd replied, though he could hear the defensiveness creeping into his own voice. Not great when you were supposed to be the confident leader with all the answers. “I know.”

Kira shook her head, eyebrow raised. “…no, you don’t get it, Zee.”

Zedd turned around to shoot her a look, now actually confused. “What… don’t I get exactly?”

The N7 clicked her tongue loudly, clearly mocking his tic with a smirk on her face. “They trust each other fine. You can see it in the way they move. They’re not worried they’re gonna backstab each other, or even that someone’s gonna hit them accidentally, c’mon smart guy.”

Zedd blinked. Huh. His attention flicked back to the transparisteel HUD as his mouth hung open slightly. “…ADAM…”

The black-and-red Navi popped up on screen. “Already bringing up game footage, bossdad.”

Zedd didn’t even have the attention to feel irritated by ADAM’s mocking term of address as he stared at the ‘game footage’ as it began to play, at 3x speed too. His eyes were good enough that he could track pretty much everything, even moving that accelerated, and as it continued to play, he could see exactly what Kira was talking about. “…They’re actually staying out of each other’s way… which is good… but…”

Kira hummed loud, expression smug. “Not what you want for a select strike team, no. It’s not that they don’t trust each other. They’re just not working together because…”

“They’re treating their powers like toys,” Zedd finished for her, the realization hitting him hard.

“Yeah,” Kira’s smile spread wide, half-smug and downright knowing. “It’s a problem with biotics in the Alliance too, at least anyone past an L2.”

“You said everyone down here has been training for months, right?” Nina added, her lips pursed as she stared from beside Kira.

“At least three months of solid training and exercises.” Zedd’s answer was as blunt as he could make it, still focused on the game footage. “Most likely more, but not quite four.”

“Then… “ Nina shook her head, clearly confused, “they should know how to work together by now.”

“As normal humans. Not enhanced.” He rubbed his ring again, feeling the familiar weight of it settling on him like responsibility. “That part takes practice.”

“ADAM, analysis,” he called out, needing something concrete to focus on instead of Nina’s pointed observations.

“Coordination efficiency down forty-seven percent from individual baselines,” ADAM replied, his avatar leaning forward with obvious interest. “Pedro’s showboating, Toni’s lone-wolfing, Mateo’s speed-differential frustration, Ana’s covering for her brother instead of optimizing her own positioning. Want me to run tactical suggestions?”

“Later.” Zedd pushed away from the railing, decision crystallizing in his mind with that particular clarity that came when his enhanced nervous system finished processing all available data and reached a conclusion. “I should go talk to them.”

“We’ll come with you,” Nina said quickly, business instincts probably telling her that this was a critical moment in whatever evaluation she was running on his entire operation.

“Both of you?”

Kira’s expression had shifted into something harder, more analytical. N7 training reading the situation like a tactical problem that needed solving. “They trust each other, sure. Do they trust you?”

Of course they do, I operated on them… He blinked a few times. 

But how many of them had no choice, really? Zedd glanced down at his enhanced team clustering into the same social groups they defaulted to during downtime. The twins stood together, Scot and Madelyn formed their own pair, while most of the others maintained individual space. Not exactly the cohesive unit mentality he’d been hoping to develop over months of training.

“We’ll find out,” he said, heading toward the elevator.

“Adele, you coming?”

“Someone needs to monitor from up here,” she replied, lighting up another NicStic with practiced efficiency as she brushed her braid back and let out a sigh. “Besides, I’ve got plenty of Medigel-V on standby in case your little heart-to-heart gets physical.”

The elevator ride down to the arena floor felt longer than usual, probably because Nina and Kira kept exchanging glances that suggested they were having entire conversations through facial expressions. By the time they reached the simulation chamber, Caleb and Dev had already joined the enhanced team in the center of the arena, their body language suggesting the debrief wasn’t going particularly well.

Zedd walked toward the group with measured steps, unable to help but track micro-expressions, posture shifts, vocal stress patterns, all feeding into his subconscious tactical assessment of the group’s emotional state. Not great, but not catastrophic. 

Yet.

“To use an analogy, you need to understand that each of you were going for style points in your own little single-player when you are all playing co-op,” he said without preamble, no point in sugarcoating what they’d all seen happen. “You’re playing with your powers like toys. That is what individual training time is meant for. You need to fight as a team.”

“Oh, oh—okay, I hear you, but real quick, ja?” Mateo’s response came fast and sharp, frustration bleeding into his words with little restraint as the consonants and syllables clipped and collided like his mouth was chasing his own thoughts. His speed was down to every part of his biology, both nanomachines and far subtler cybernetics than Hector’s enhancing him to the point that his words were already blurring together slightly as he spoke. “Mad easy for you to say, ne? You’re not in the damn fight, bossman. You just watching.”

Zedd’s eyes narrowed as his head snapped over to the speedster, suddenly well aware that a hard enough jab to the former terrorist’s windpipe would have him gasping on the floor for a good five minutes. “I’ve fought before,” he replied, voice level. It wasn’t quite cold yet, but it was definitely getting there.

Yeah,, three years back, you were fried on stims, we all seen the vids of it. Don’t make you a king, bro.” Mateo shot back, heat in his word fighting Zedd’s cool as he spoke those words while in the center of his fucking kingdom. “We get it, but you weren’t even all there upstairs.”

Pedro stepped forward, his young face creased with concern. “Hey man, you’re out of line.”

Caleb’s voice carried Brooklyn-bred authority when he spoke. “Yeah, very.”

But Marilyn stepped into the conversation with the kind of deliberate precision that commanded attention, her white hair catching the arena’s lighting as she turned to face Zedd directly. “But is he wrong?” Her tone carried command in each syllable, the kind of natural authority that made people listen whether they wanted to or not. “With all due respect, Sir Victors, you’re asking us to do what you can’t and expressing frustration over not meeting your arbitrary standards at an accelerated timetable.”

Dev moved forward, a clear scowl on his face. Years of MELD treatments had pushed his genetics past Alliance-legal parameters, turning him into something that was second only to a pre-enhancement Patrick. “What are you all trying to say?”

“All?” Pedro’s voice cracked slightly. “I haven’t said anything.”

“Neither have I,” Toni added from inside her BASTION armor, the modulated voice making her sound more defensive than she probably intended.

“Me neither,” Scot said quietly, his steady tone cutting through the group’s rising tension.

“I’m fine,” Hector stated with mechanical certainty, because of course he was.

Patrick just made a noncommittal sound that might have been agreement or dismissal.

“I agree with my brother,” Ana said, because of course she did. Twin bond probably made independent thought a luxury she couldn’t afford.

Zedd rolled his eyes. “Of course you do.”

Mateo’s next words came out in a rush, like he was afraid he’d lose his nerve if he slowed down. Enhanced speed extending to his emotional processing, thoughts racing faster than his ability to filter them. “How about you try doing what you’re trying to make us do and say that.”

“I’m not gonna do that.”

“I knew it,” Mateo said with obvious satisfaction, like he’d just won some kind of argument Zedd hadn’t realized they were having.

Zedd’s enhanced nervous system finished processing the group dynamics, social tensions, individual psychological profiles, and came to a conclusion that was probably going to make Nina very unhappy. His ring caught the arena’s lighting again as he flexed his fingers, muscle memory preparing for action while his brain calculated odds and tactical advantages.

“Hey, first… calm the fuck down, Speedy. I’m not gonna do that because I programmed all of this,” he said, watching their faces carefully. “There’s no way you’d accept my win anyway. So here’s what we’re gonna do.” He stepped forward, rolling his shoulders carefully as his body prepared for action. “The four of you are gonna take me on.”

The silence that followed was the kind that made people check if their ears were working properly.

“You’re joking,” Mateo said finally, his enhanced speed apparently not extending to processing impossible statements.

“Why would I be?” Zedd’s voice carried that particular tone he used when he was about to do something that would probably end up in someone’s incident report.

“Zedd…” Nina’s voice carried warning, business instincts probably screaming that this was a terrible idea from multiple perspectives.

“Shhh,” he replied without looking back at her, his attention focused on the enhanced humans in front of him, carefully cataloguing their positions, stress levels, probable reaction times.

“I don’t think…” Kira started, N7 training probably running risk assessments and finding them all wanting.

“Trust me on this.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Zedd could see Adele taking another puff from her NicStic, one arm wrapped across her chest in a gesture that suggested she was either resigned to whatever was about to happen or actively enjoying the show. Probably both, knowing her.

Mateo’s next words came slower, more carefully considered. Enhanced reflexes finally catching up to the social implications of what was happening. “Listen, bossman, no offense, I respect what this all is. I respect the plan. I respect you, even…”

“You sure about that?” Pedro muttered, because apparently even the eighteen-year-old could see through Mateo’s diplomatic backpedaling.

Mateo ignored him. “But like, you made us real problems. I don’t think you want to do this.”

“You’re right,” Zedd said, watching their faces carefully. Enhanced senses picking up micro-expressions, stress hormones, the particular kind of tension that came from people realizing they might have bitten off more than they could chew. “I don’t.”

The group’s collective sigh was audible, everyone in front of and behind him relaxing slightly as they assumed he was backing down from whatever insane demonstration he’d been planning.

“At least, not without making this whole thing more fair,” he continued, rubbing his ring with his thumb again. “Bastion, you’re jumping in. They’re gonna need a tank.”

“Sir?” Toni’s voice came filtered through her armor’s speakers, confusion clear even through the bulky armor’s body language and her synthesized voice both. “Don’t you mean I’m joining you on this?”

Zedd’s eyes flicked her way, narrowing slightly at the large pink-and-white power armor. “…No.”

They wanted to see if he could back up his words. Fine. He knew what he was going to do and he was ready for it. More than anything, his ring felt warm against his finger, familiar weight reminding him of something he’d been preparing to let loose for months.

“Clear the arena,” he said, his voice carrying across the simulation chamber with absolute authority, the kind of projection that made people listen whether they wanted to or not. “We’re doing a one-versus-five.”

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

5k Words (100 FP)


ROLL: Fumble Spotter (200 CP) [Generic Cubicle] {Quality – Safety}: “You excel at finding odd ways in which your products might be used or misused that could lead them to fail, and in devising ways to fix them before they ever become issues. You are also adept at making the proper usage for your products obvious in their design.”

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