Interlude, Miss Militia

The first time Hannah spoke to Lung was in a high school gym in Beaumont, Texas.

The basketball court still had the bright blue and white streamers hanging from the ceiling. A large banner slung between the folded up basketball hoops proclaimed 'Go Panthers!' in blocky lettering. A large wooden plaque covered in burnished bronze nameplate was stapled high on the far side of the room, and underneath it a multi-tiered trophy shelf complete with pictures of smiling teens dressed in football and basketball jerseys. She wondered how many of those children made it to the shelter before the earthquakes came.

The showers and locker rooms were closed off with small cubicles. Off white cloth walls did very little to quiet the sounds of a few curses or pained hisses from wounded within. Average people in bland hospital scrubs shuffled around carrying clipboards, dragging IV stands, hugging bundles of blankets. Getting access to a real hospital during an Endbringer fight was a luxury. Sometimes the location was just bad, other times the hospital was just too small or too busy with other cases to shove an odd hundred capes in. Too few doctors for the demand meant there were overwhelmed interns, anxious volunteers and stressed nurse practitioners rushing around.

The half court was populated with folding lunch tables and tired heroes nursing instant coffee. The cafeteria half these tables had been stolen from housed the recuperating villains. Four hours ago this had all been wires and cord, filled with nervous energy and the resignation of a hospital chapel as tremors rumbled beneath their feet.

Dauntless murmured in his sleep, head buried in the crook of his arms. He survived his first encounter with the Hero Killer. The battle lasted a little over 3 hours. The nightmares would last months. Velocity was fetching chocolate bars from the vending machine one handed until there was an opening to have his arm grown back. Armsmaster was still critical.

They lived. All that mattered.

A ragged, subdued cheer went up and she looked. Alexandria nodded imperiously before turning back to talk quietly the three around her. Beside the Triumvirate and running her right hand through dark hair in baggy grey sweats was Lung.

Standard practice was to handcuff villains to protect them and protect others from them. That worked for most, but like Alexandria, Eidolon and Legend, a simple construct of steel wouldn't be enough to hold the Japanese villain. A thick band of black metal was clamped across her eyes with a single LED above her ear shining green. What could be seen of the rest of her face was pale skin, a delicate chin and small mouth.

When it turned red, if – if it turned red, the band would explode with enough heat and force to liquefy the woman's brain. Alexandria stood by carefully, never letting Lung leave her sight.

"Snickers for you!" It made a loud clatter as Robin dumped it on the table. His empty sleeve drew her eyes and he flashed a wry grin as he nudged Jason awake. "Butterfinger, yeah?" The granola bar was for Colin. Robin flopped into his seat, tearing into his skittles bag with his teeth.

She took a gulp of her coffee. It was bitter and burned her throat.

"We're alive," Robin toasted with his skittles bag. "Thank fucking God."

A wave of superheated air, crackle of ozone and sparking with lightning. The dragon roars as the left side of its body ceases to exist. It falls but before it hits the ground it is whole once again. It twists instead, curling around Behemoth's legs. "BLASTERS" comes the call over her arm band and she takes aim.

She expects the recoil, dislocating the shoulder with a wet pop. The dragon's right hand vanishes in a pulp of blood and bone and she winces, but underneath she had burned a bleeding crater in the Hero Killer's flank.

The dragon readjusts and the call comes again. She ignored her shoulder. She couldn't ignore the searing lightning Behemoth threw her way.

"- a few months of peace too much to ask for?" Robin was saying as she came out of the memory. "Villians sitting fucking pretty in the Bay while we're here. The Empire – "

"We'll have a bit," Jason said. "No one wants to fight Lung now."

Robin paused, blue skittle hanging on his bottom lip.

"True."

Nothing about Lung made sense to her. Villains like that were selfish and self-serving. The number of criminals that participated in Endbringer battles around the world could be counted on both hands, and most of them only started after Lung resurfaced for Leviathan in Seattle, 2003. Every three months since then, without fail, Lung had been there. Why?

Even now, Alexandria was sitting rigidly on the top of a table, one foot on the round plastic seat as she watched over the room. Lung sat on the floor in front of her, leaning back against the heroine's hanging leg.

Another bitter sip and Hannah stood up. "Be right back."

She threaded her way towards Alexandria keenly feeling the loss of her star spangled bandana that usually covered her face. The two were talking in tones just quiet enough not to disturb but not so quiet as to seem like they were concealing the conversation.

" - ate wearing this thing."

"Should have thought of that before you decided to take on all of East-North-East," Alexandria told Lung clinically.

"Don't you trust me?"

No, Hannah thought even as Alexandria's lips twisted sardonically. "About as far as I can throw you." And then her voice turned to steel. "And no further."

She stopped at the end of the table Alexandria was sitting on and politely rapped her knuckles on it twice. Even with no visible allowances for eyesight in her black helmet, Alexandria instantly recognized her.

"Miss Militia," she said warmly. Lung's head turned. "Is there something you wished to discuss?"

She tried to smile back. She wasn't sure if she managed it. "I have a question for Lung."

"Oh?" Lung murmured.

"Why?" Elaborate, Hannah. "Behemoth. Leviathan – " Lung's lips tightened. The island of Kyushu had sunk, she recalled. Just the peaks of the skyscrapers were above the waves now. How old had Lung been then? Young, her mind said. Young. "Simurgh. Why do you do it?"

"Tch." Lung looked down, then back up. Her accent was thick. "Because I can."

She had a gun in her hand. She didn't know how, where it came from. But her fingers curled around the handle. It was heavy. The soldier behind her barked, time running out. Keep walking. Keep walking. She might die. Like the others, legs blown off. Fallen down holes onto sharp spikes. Crushed.

But she had a gun. She didn't have to die taking that step.

She turned, bringing up the gun. She knew how to hold it, how to aim. She pulled the trigger –

Hannah nodded. "Fair enough."

The air was thick with an acrid smoke, the kind of stench that came with burning chemicals, plastics and rubbers. The thick plumes wafting out of the windows were discolored; white, green, orange. Brick and mortar didn't burn well, but the wallpaper and old furniture fed the flames eating at the drug labs. She buried her nose in the fabric of the bandana masking her face, grimacing as she picked her way over the guts of a broken down car. She huffed slightly, measured breathing as she squinted through the haze.

On the side of the building was the all too familiar graffiti sign: a crimson dragon.

"ABB," she sighed.

"Repeat that?" Dauntless' voice crackled over her ear bud.

She breathed in deep. Through the fabric, the air was just slightly tinged with something sickly sweet. There were mounds of fine dirt or ash in the street, wisps blowing off the top by a small breeze. Something in her stomach turned as she looked around. Doors torn from their hinges. Windows smashed. There were blood stains on the pavement. No bodies.

"The target of this attack was the drug labs and caches," she said, curling her fingers around the KA-BAR knife. Its handle felt like carved wood and it fit perfectly. "Fresh ABB tags on the buildings. No sign of original occupants."

"A purge."

Brockton Bay had seen the rise and fall of several villainous groups. The Allfather's Empire 88 shattered with his death and that of Iron Rain, only to rise again under his son Kaiser. Marquis' slow decline as a power until a local vigilante group confronted him. This city had been visited by the Slaughterhouse Nine. The Teeth crushed. The Merchants were just the latest.

This could have been them, the Protectorate. Hannah vividly remembered the silver scaled reptilian creature looming over the buildings, the scream of the Endbringer alarms, and balls of flickering flame choking the air like a swarm of fireflies. The roar of triumph and wet heat of fire vaporizing her lower right arm.

Her fingers tightened around the handle of a Desert Eagle pistol. The smell of burning flesh always woke her up from that memory.

"Careful," Dauntless said suddenly. Obediently, she stopped. "You've got company ahead, give me a moment to ID."

The mounds of ash were bothering her. Some of them were tall, others long. They spoke of something being burnt cleanly and totally so that not even coals remained. Lung could do it, were she so inclined. Hannah hooked her bowie knife in its holster as she bent down and trailed a finger through the fine grit.

No bodies, she thought.

"Shi – Militia, its Lung."

"Where?"

"Half a block north of yo – what are you doing?"

Her palms stung as she hauled herself up, the soles of her boots scraping the brick. She took a short, fortifying breath as she eyeballed the maintenance ladder. She could make that.

"Militia, don't engage!" She imagined him pinwheeling his arms frantically in the air above. "Don't fucking engage, Jesus Christ!"

The outdoor patio was covered in trash. Beer cans, used syringes, strips of aluminum foil streaked with burnt residue, stained and dirty mattresses hid behind chipped and faded wooden trellis. She crossed slowly, careful not to make too much noise on her way to the large, beige fuse boxes on the roof. She hefted the weight in her hands, getting a feel for it, testing. She lifted it and peered down the scope.

Wind blowing east, she noted and shifted.

"Movement?"

Dauntless might have responded, but she already saw her mark.

In a deep red kimono that almost but not quite hid the bloodstains. Barefoot and metal dragon mask on her face coming out of a warehouse on fire.

Take the shot.

The crosshairs aligned. A slight adjustment for bullet trajectory and wind would be all it would take. She saw a red headed girl with dead eyes, bleeding from marks on her face and neck. She pulled the trigger.

It missed, going wide to pulverize the corner of the building. It rained brick dust and chunks of concrete.

Lung stopped with a slight flinch. Her masked face slinging around and up. Hannah breathed, and pried her finger from the trigger and lowered the gun. For several long moments, villain and hero just stared at each other.

Just one shot, with the right gun.

Lung nodded, and deliberately turned on her heel to show her back.

Message delivered.

Hannah sighed as she pushed open the door to the briefing room, a few minutes early as usual. Colin was already there, also as usual. She smothered the fond, exasperated smile at the bags under his eyes and barely acceptable beard as he scribbled in a notebook. "You worked too hard and forgot to sleep again, Colin?"

"My earliest estimate for the new tranquilizer was two weeks." He offered as if it was an explanation. It almost was. "I can have it done in eight days."

"If you skip out on sleep? I don't doubt it." She sat down next to him. "But exhausting yourself – "

"Dragon is checking over my work for any errors," he countered. "It'll have to be administered in Lung's earlier stages, but it should shut down her regeneration. This could work."

The ABB was one problem of many in the Bay. "And the Empire?"

His frown deepened before he sighed. He set down his pen and rubbed at his eyes before grabbing his mug of steaming black coffee off the table. "Working on it."

She smiled and tapped the drawings on his notebook. "So I see."

The door opened and admitted Sarah Pelham out of costume, wearing a casual blue sweater and slacks. "Good morning," she said a bit hesitantly. Hannah smiled back reassuringly.

Lady Photon had all the courage and presence of a "golden age" superhero but without the gradient star burst shining on her chest, the woman seemed a bit lost and unsure. New Wave, the public superhero group had been as much of her identity as her powers were. Losing her husband and sister had been just shy of devastating but she was holding on. Time didn't heal all wounds, but eventually, it would clot.

Assault and Battery trickled in after her, teasing each other, followed by Dauntless nursing a cup of coffee, black from the smell of it, and Triumph yawning. The newest addition to the Protectorate wasn't due to attend college until this fall, but he wasn't slacking off, cramming in extra training and picking up late night console shifts.

"Alright, alright, let me guess." Assault threw himself into a chair. "Lung."

Hannah grimaced. "Yes."

The door opened and Director Emily Piggot walked in slowly. Her bob cut was dyed blonde with mousy brown roots showing. She shuffled to the head of the table and placed a manilla folder stuffed to bursting with papers on the table with a loud slap. They all watched her silently as she pulled out the chair and sat down.

"Miss Militia," she began blandly. "You responded to a disturbance report last night, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am." She'd typed up her report during the night but these meetings in the morning for debriefing was a quick way to get everyone caught up with the latest news. The old system of passing it up the chain and waiting for it to trickle back down simply didn't work anymore. "Triumph," she nodded at the young man. "Was on console when we got the warning."

"Fire was the key word," he added. "I made the call to send her instead of Dauntless."

Piggot's watery blue eyes found her own. "And?"

"The Undersiders." A small, little known gang. Minor crimes and misdemeanors. Seemed to be more interested in nipping at the outskirts of the Empire's territory. Until last night. "Did something that set Aswang off."

"Aswang," Assault cut in. "Not Lung?"

"Possibly Lung," she allowed. "But how she put it, she was unconcerned, or didn't think it important." That didn't mean the Undersiders had been safe. Lung didn't suffer even the smallest slights lightly. "Of more importance was that Aswang disobeyed her."

Piggot huffed in morbid amusement. "Naturally."

Aswang's fear was to be caged, and he wouldn't be moving. It was in the report, as long as Piggot knew she didn't feel the need to let everyone in on the deal. "She appropriated a new parahuman. She called the girl 'Hachi' but she denied being part of the ABB. Right place at the right time recruitment?"

Piggot nodded, flicking through her papers. "And her powers?"

"Her costume looked very well made and designed to resemble the carapace of an insect." A bit unfinished, a few openings for armor and hastily painted over but the material was high quality. Silken. "I'm afraid I don't have details."

Piggot sighed and dug the heels of her palms into her eyes. "But you made contact and she's not officially ABB, yet." She opened the folder. "At times I can't help but wish Lung was more of a violent thug so we could justify more extreme measures."

"Endbringers," Dauntless said quietly.

"So she's a useful criminal," Piggot said dismissively. "Anything on the Empire?"

Sarah Pelham shook her head. "They've been relatively quiet but given the timing?" She drummed fingers on the table. "There might be some truth to the rumor of dissent in the ranks. "Purity," the name was spit with venom. "She hasn't resurfaced."

"No news is good news as far as I'm concerned. Back to the Undersiders, what is the problem with this picture?"

"Small time independent group poking the ABB," Battery said immediately with the air of someone putting together the pieces. "Part of the smash and grab routine is picking good targets."

Assault picked up the thread. "Lung is a terrible target."

"By all accounts, the Undersiders are all teenagers," Hannah pointed out. "Not experienced criminals."

Assault threw up his hands. "That's even worse!"

Colin raised his head from his notebook. "They have a backer. It's the only thing that makes sense. Look at their activities until now. They are runners, not fighters."

The problem with the backer theory, Hannah knew, was that there just wasn't that many independent groups left in Brockton Bay. Amy Dallon, formerly Panacea of New Wave and Sarah's neice, was pretty much the only rogue left and even that was tainted by her ties to Lung.

"Coil?" She asked.

Piggot frowned. "My first instinct is 'too small time' but we don't have the luxury of dismissing him or her just yet. Anyone coming in to this city with the Empire and ABB already here is either confident or stupid." Piggot's frown darkened. "And he's lasted too long to be stupid. This city is a powder keg and it will blow. We need to be ready when it happens."

There were nods all around the table.

"Militia, let the wards know to keep an eye out for this 'Hachi.' With any luck, Lung hasn't got her claws in this one. Now we've got a budget increase coming down the pipeline and we're starting to look at possibilities for transfers from Boston and New York..."

Much later, Hannah walked into the Wards' common room, immediately spotting Missy Biron hunched over a textbook, chewing on her pencil as 'Hanabi,' Kaoru Watanabe turned the pages of a novel in a bean bag seat that had been dragged over. The Japanese Ward's costume wasn't completely on, missing the red overcoat and her fingerless gloves but her red visor was hooked up over her forehead.

"Good afternoon, you two."

Missy saluted her with the pencil as Hanabi glanced up. "Oh, hey Miss Militia. Need something?"

"Where is everyone?"

"Shadow Stalker is out," Missy said. "Said she had something to do." The girl rolled her eyes. "You know her."

"Double date." Hanabi shrugged. Well, that accounted for Glory Girl, Laserdream, Aegis and Gallant.

"Clockblocker was at the console and Kid Win in his lab, Shielder?"

"No idea," both girls said.

Hannah sighed. Eric Pelham wasn't integrating well. About the only people he spoke to among the Wards were his relatives. Understandable, but she'd have to tell Dauntless about it later. "Well, if you see him be sure to tell him what I'm going to tell you. There's a new parahuman that hasn't joined a gang yet."

"Keep an eye out?" Missy's face was solemn. "Sure, details?"

"She wears an insect themed costume. Tall, wavy dark hair. May or may not go by 'Hachi.'"

"...Bee?" Kaoru said with a smirk. "Got it, no problem."

Missy nodded as well.

"Thank you. Keep up the good work."

And they did do good work. The Wards program had never been intended to be training grounds for child soldiers. It was supposed to be about learning to control their powers, learning what they were capable of. Giving them a stable, supportive environment after their trigger and a little help academically and financially for their future. There should be more exercises, events, sessions but no one ever seemed to have the resources, the people, the funds, the time.

Never enough time.