Revision 13.X (Protector/Piggot)
Karen stepped out of her shower, grabbing a towel and drying off her hair, which was longer than she'd had in years. It was one of several dozen things that was different about her. Another was the delicious soreness that ached across her body, sending a pleasant tingle up her spine as she stretched slowly, toweling herself off.
It was entirely different than the soreness from a fight, the dull pains of bruises, or worse, and localized tiredness in a few overworked muscles. This was the feeling of a good, thorough spar, and was something that she'd missed from her days in the Protectorate, though it hadn't been nearly enough to consider re-joining, not after everything that'd happened.
Most fights were quick things, lasting a few minutes at most, pushing yourself hard because failure meant injury or death. Spars could last longer. Much longer. Glancing at the clock in her new room, she shook her head as she saw it was almost three in the morning. She'd always been stronger, faster, and tougher than most after she'd Triggered, but now she could've thrown down with Johnny and met him strength for strength, even with his swords and armor. She'd beaten Chevalier before, but it was always her speed moving around his greater strength. Oh, the look on his face if she'd catch one of his swords now would be amazing.
She continued her stretches, slowly working her way through a handspring over the carpet, moving through it at a snail's pace, each muscle group working in tandem. She could've done this before, but now her body felt almost weightless, her muscles stronger then they'd ever been, though thankfully keeping her lithe build.
Finishing the set, she flopped gracelessly onto her bed, still naked. The only thing that could make her feel better was a good massage, and she was certain Lee would have magic hands on top of everything else, but he'd just smiled and wished her a good night, before teleporting away.
She didn't have him pegged, and every time she thought she had, something else had happened. She'd first assumed he was some sort of villain because, come on, who else would have a secure medical area that wasn't the PRT? Then she thought he was going to go for the hard pitch. She'd had those before, and she was ready to tell him to screw off, or, if he seemed like he wasn't going to take no for an answer, agree, then sneak out of there, quiet as a mouse.
Then he'd talked, and talked, and talked, but kept on undercutting the 'join us or else' vibe. And it hadn't been an 'I'm bad at this' undercutting either. Hell, he'd even let her call Hannah, and yeah, the phone was bugged, obviously, except either it hadn't been, or he was a way better actor than he seemed, because he didn't mention Hannah's offer at all, and he'd seemed surprised when she'd brought it up. He hadn't overreacted, but that little 'hah, knew it' of confirmation he'd shown when she'd told him that Hannah wanted her to spy on him was clear as day.
Then there was the flirting. She always did that, it always said something about a person, how they reacted. Hannah had always been uptight, Johnny was focused, and Colin didn't even notice. On the other hand, Ravager had always. . . You could tell a lot about someone, but you could be wrong, she reminded herself. Lee's reactions were. . . odd. He flirted back, which would've put him in a number of categories, and it'd seemed. . . light. Like he did that with everyone, just like her. When the two teenagers had come in, though, it hadn't set a good scene.
The kinds of guys that flirted with girls that young tended to have certain expectations wasn't okay with, but he'd switched gears. He was still familiar with them, more familiar than just team lead, but it was somewhere between 'father' and 'friend who already has a significant other'. She'd pushed them a little, to see how they'd react, and that had been telling too.
Lady Bug had an injured innocence that only new Triggers had, and had been fun to tease. She obviously liked Lee, the jealousy might've as well been written on her face when he'd flirted back, but she hadn't gotten mad, just sad and hurt, which had said a lot as well. Lee's defense of the girl was more like a big brother than boyfriend or casual lay. There was a spark of something there, or she'd eat her helmet, once she got a replacement, but that's all it was on his side. On her side, well, she was pining so hard the girl could make a log cabin.
Panacea on the other hand, that'd been just as interesting, but not nearly as nice. The girl was jealous too, but she hid it better. She'd come in spoilin' for a fight, and Karen'd made it worse. If he'd been sleeping with her, Lee'd have deserved it, but it was obvious after a bit that wasn't the case, but she'd already lit the fuse by then, so Karen had been more than happy to get out of blast range.
The fact that it had set something else off, something bad if Lee's explanation and Lady Bug's reaction was any indication, made Karen feel a little guilty. It hadn't been her fault, she didn't see anything else that could've happened, but she hadn't even been there a day before she'd managed to stir the pot enough to make it all boil over. It was like the Deciders all over again, but at least no one ended up dead this time. She hoped.
When Lee'd said he knew it was her that had done it, that had pushed things to that point, she was ready to go pack her bags, and then he'd thanked her! For upsetting people! Who did that? Then came the fact that he was a power copier, like the Fairy Queen. Everyone that was anyone knew about her, and Mouse was glad she'd told the group that had gathered to take her down to go sit and spin, but to have someone like that as a teammate, let alone leader?
She agreed that telling anyone about it was a big no-no, and then he'd asked her if he could use her power. Part of her rebelled, that her power was hers, and that if anyone else were to have it it'd make her less. But he'd saved her, he'd offered her a part of his team, and most of all he'd asked when he obviously hadn't needed to, so she'd said yes.
It was really the asking that did it. If she had his power she would've gone on a road trip, picking up powers until she could make big green himself her bitch. Lee obviously did a little of that too, not even bothering to hide the fact that he could make weapons out of thin air. He didn't do it the way Hannah did, making them grow out of the ground instead, which was obviously that Nazi asshole's power that her best friend had complained about, more than once. She grinned to herself, remembering when, after several hours, he'd pulled out something she hadn't thought of.
She'd played around with tossing something with her mark, getting places she'd normally not be able to go, so playing with his balls mid-fight just made sense. She'd tried it before, but it was hard to keep track of which way you were going, so she hadn't really bothered. With someone to spar with, who wanted her to work on it, instead of getting mad at her for not doing it right the first time or for beating them with it when she did, she'd finally had the push to do so. She still wasn't good, and it wouldn't be the kind of thing she'd use in a fight yet, but it'd been great fun!
Watching Lee copy her move of throwing one of his balls, and teleporting to it mid-flight, only to crash into the ground had been hilarious. He'd talked about how he could copy the power' use, like teleporting, but not her skill with it, which made her feel a bit better about the entire thing. He'd faceplanted over a dozen times before he got it even once, and she had to admire the hutzpah to keep going, especially in front of a cheering audience, though he hadn't given her the scorecards she wanted. She'd bring them herself next time.
Watching him fail, only to get up, she'd asked if there was some way he could use a different power to get better at it. She'd been surprised that, yes, there was, but he refused to copy it because of his morals. Karen had pressed, because duh, and finding out he could be a skill thief, but refused to do so, even if she'd get it back eventually, she found herself putting another check in the 'stay' column.
What she hadn't thought about was marking her own sword's handle with a mark. Yeah, she put one on the blade so she could grab it if she needed to, but she'd never thought about tossing it, then popping over to it and catching it, only to swing it or throw it again. She knew she could, but the work it'd take to get good enough to pull it off, especially when she'd never needed to, was a little daunting the rodent of justice.
He hadn't told her she was lazy, or was wasting his time by saying no, or anything else she'd been called before. He'd just shrugged and made a blunted sword and tried doing it himself, asking for her advice. He was trying so hard, she had to help the guy, and she was right, it was stupid hard, but they'd both started doing it. After they could more often than not, though it still took them a second to make it work, he'd switched it up, asking for them to spar with their blunted blades.
She'd destroyed him. It wasn't even close. He had a little bit of training, and a little talent, but there was a giant gulf of difference between them. She was faster, she was more precise, she was even stronger, and he'd just taken it with a smile and tried again. The stronger thing confused the hell out of her, as she'd seen him punch Leviathan in that video, but he'd just said he didn't want to rely on strength so he wasn't using those powers, and then she kicked his ass again, and again, and he stuck to it.
Another check.
They'd kept going, with him healing her whenever she started to flag, his touch like a spa made out of coffee, and he'd recover in the time it took to help her. She'd finally begged off, getting mentally tired more than physically, and he'd thanked her, thanked her, and went off to work on something else.
She popped off the bed to her desk, where she'd left her new phone, and a Mark. Before dinner she'd checked, and not only had her apartment burned down, she'd been declared dead. Again. She could get it reversed, she'd had to before, but it was always a pain in the ass. 'Prove you're still alive, even though you're calling us, so you obviously are!' Stupid bureaucats. Now she had a job, and a place to crash, but finding that out had still hurt. Her mementos were still probably in the rubble, fire-proof safes were a must for any forward-thinking heroine, but most of her minor mementos were probably gone forever.
They're just things. You're still alive, she reminded herself, which helped. She still had her memories, whatever had happened to her had left those intact, and whatever Lee and Panacea'd done to fix her up had sharpened her recall. She could close her eyes and picture her place as if she left that morning, mentally walk through it and able to pick up her pictures.
Typing in Hannah's number, the woman picked up on the second ring with her usual serious, "Hello?"
"Hi Millie!" Karen smiled, popping back to her bed. "I took the Penumbral Defenders up on their offer. Never thought I've be workin' with the PD!"
Miss Militia didn't respond for a moment, finally saying, "You. . . did? Okay, I'll need you to-"
"Nah, not spyin'" she cut the other woman off. "Just thought you'd want to know!"
"You're not," the Protectorate heroine trailed off. "Then why did you join, Mouse?"
Karen shrugged, "He had a good pitch. Plus, he's hot."
"Mouse," Hannah sighed. "Tell me you haven't slept with him."
"Why, interested? Can't blame ya," she teased. Her friend hadn't had a man in her life in a year, at least, and she obviously hadn't found anyone since MP went quiet. "Not yet," she reassured her bestie.
Miss Milita wouldn't be deterred, like usual. "He's dangerous, Mouse. You need to be careful!"
"I know, isn't it great!" Karen fake-gushed, laughing at her friends growl of irritation. "I'll be good, but ya need to find a different mouse to bell this cat," she told the heroine, hanging up. Now how to get him to bell my kitty?
Emily Piggot was not having a good day. She rarely did, but, despite being nine in the morning, this day already promised to not be one of those rare reliefs from the unending parade of shoveling shit that was her job. "So what you're saying is that Mouse Protector is alive, you asked her to spy on a hero group with an unblemished record, and she joined them but told you no?" she asked the bandanna clad woman on the other side of her desk in her temporary office, just to be sure.
The woman had the gall to nod seriously. "She might come around."
"No."
The uniformed parahuman blinked. "I'm sorry, ma'am. You don't think she'll come around? I know that Mouse Protector might seem like-"
"I mean you are to stop trying to alienate a group that includes, on its team, someone who can go toe-to-toe with an enranged, giant Leviathan, the healer and her assistant responsible for saving thousands of lives and regrowing hundreds of limbs of Protectorate personnel, and their leader who I have personal requests to instruct to contact two of the three members of the Triumvirate the next time I, or any of my men, see him," Piggot stated coldly. She'd have ignored those requests, as it was the PRT that gave instructions to the Protectorate, not the other way around, but the call from the Chief Director had forced her to comply. "I did not approve any such operation, nor would I in our current condition. I'd expect this kind of thing from the Wards, but not from you, Miss Militia."
The woman in question started to speak, but her superior held up a hand, forestalling any arguments. "I know you think he's some sort of Trump, and a Master other than his ability with insects, but you haven't brought me any proof."
"How can you say his record's clean. He admitted to working with the Empire," The provisional leader of the ENE branch of the Protectorate, for however long it still existed, complained.
"He admitted to saving the city," Piggot countered. "When we did not. That's what the public sees, so that's what's true. Now, do you have any other unsanctioned operations you'd like to tell me about, or can I get back to managing this SNAFU of what's left of our city."
Miss Militia's "No Ma'am." was as expected as it was disappointing. The woman stalked out, clearly unhappy, but Emily didn't care. If she'd gone to her in the first place, Piggot wouldn't have had to dress her down. Turning back to her desk, she continued to deal with the slow pullout of the PRT from the ruins of what had been Brockton Bay a week ago. Had it been a week ago, she might have left Militia's plan go without anything more than instructions to keep her posted, but soon enough the woman would no longer be Piggot's concern.
The city was wrecked, with people high above her pay grade discussing quarantining the entire area. The only thing keeping that from happening was that whatever horrors lurked deeper in were, apparently, content to stay there for now. She'd wanted to leave it alone until they had a full roster, but she'd been ordered by the Chief Director to send out teams to determine the threat posed by the ruins, the PRT's Thinkers unable to give any sensible threat assessment. Furthermore, her instructions had been to not send any of the Protectorate in with them. Piggot had sent out three teams, with orders to come back as soon as they met any resistance. One had returned.
From the camera footage recovered by an independent hero-team that gone into the yellow-zone, they found out what had happened. Against her advice, one of the missing teams had ignored her orders, moving in deeper after finding and fighting off some kind of rock-thing. They'd gotten split up, day turning into night in an instant, and whatever had killed the trooper had been dark blue, fast, and completely silent.
All that had been left of the trooper was half of the shoulder harness, completely clean, the busted camera still attached. The internal clock was also off, stating that the time was eight hours earlier than it actually was. She'd finished up writing the letters to their families yesterday, and her request to quarantine the area based on this evidence had been denied, with no reason given, which smelled of politicking.
Speaking of which, one of the reasons that she still likely still had her job were the recovery efforts still underway. As much as the Director distrusted Panacea, her power seemingly too good to be true, the girl had helped keep the Director's own losses to a minimum. They'd lost Aegis, but Triumph, Gallant, Dauntless, and Miss Militia herself would've been crippled, with either amputation or a long recovery, without the girl's efforts, and Kid Win's career would've ended before he'd hit adulthood, if not his life. The Tinker had lost both legs, an arm, a lung, and god knows what else.
Piggot wanted to take Luminescent to task fixing the Ward up enough to let him back into the fray, but she'd been indirectly responsible for enough saved lives that she was untouchable in the near future. Then Panacea and the Lady Bug had come in, and in an hour patched him up, good as new. Emily's side ached, as if her old injuries were pointing out that she could be fixed too, if she just asked.
She wouldn't, she couldn't, let a non-Protectorate healer work on her. With her position, if there were some sort of Master influences at work with it, she couldn't allow the PRT to be compromised. Powers might seem straightforward, seem harmless, but she'd seen how they could really be. Her position had only shown her she was right, shown her all of the secrets that the PRT took great pains to hide.
A large portion of that had been undone in a single day.
The PR officer of the ENE branch had been recalled, the entire department of the PRT apparently working 24/7 to try to get ahead of the damage that L33t and Über's broadcast had done to the public image of the PRT's heroes. The more subversive powers had still been kept out of the public eye, but the destruction that'd been wrought had been on full display.
It was over an hour later when someone else knocked on her door, and at her order to come in, two of her Wards stepped inside. "Vista, Gallant," Piggot greeted them as warmly as she could manage, working off five hours of sleep, just as she had for the past week, and with no foreseeable rest in the near future.
"You wanted to speak with us, Ma'am?" Gallant replied.
She looked at the two of them. They both seemed nervous, but that could have just been from her request to speak to them as soon as they came in. "I'd like to know where the two of you have been going in your off hours," she stated plainly. Gallant looked steadily back at her, but from Vista's guilty glance to him, it was obvious they were hiding something.
"We've been keeping out of trouble, Ma'am," was all the boy gave her.
Piggot glanced at her computer, as if she was checking something, before looking back at him. "I've had reports that you two, along with the Dallon sisters, as well as Lady Bug, have been seen in the Green Zones. Green does not mean safe, Gallant, only less dangerous. What could be so important that you'd risk going there?"
The Ward was unfazed, completely calm, which he only was when he was when stressed. "Is that an order, Ma'am?" he asked back, courteously, which was another tell.
Piggot couldn't order him to report on what he was doing during his off hours, and they both knew it. She could if certain requirements were met, but she didn't have anything official to work off of. Trying a different tack, she asked instead, "Do you know where I could find the Penumbral Defenders, then? Alexandria would like to have a word with them, as would Chief Director Costa-Brown, but we've been unable to get in touch with them. We aren't even aware if Vejovis has survived."
Vista's instant reply of "He has!" told Piggot most of what she needed to know. "If you can pass him a message that Legend and Alexandria wish to talk to him, I'd appreciate it," she kindly told the little girl, who should be off with her family, not dealing with the horrors outside. It was obvious that the Penumbral Defenders' base was somewhere in the northern part of the city, in the green zone. She'd considered that church that'd come through without any damage, but the officers she'd posted there hadn't seen any of the five there, which suggested they were eastward. That still included a quarter of the city.
She looked at them both in turn, honestly worried about them. They were getting mixed up with things they weren't ready for. Piggot didn't trust parahumans, and she didn't trust these kids either, but that didn't stop her from wanting them to be safe. "Be aware that the green zones are the safest. That doesn't mean they're safe to be in, and don't drop your guard while you're going through them. I don't need to tell you to stay out of the yellow and red zones, do I?"
"No, ma'am," Gallant nodded, shoulders dropping a bit as the tension ran out of them, telling her that the PD's base was in the green zones, not the yellow or red. "Was there anything else?"
"Not as of this time. Transfers will be coming in two or three weeks. Gallant, your request to be moved to Boston has been approved. Vista, yours is still pending, and we've scheduled a meeting with your parents next Wednesday." Piggot hesitated, she knew how she'd phrase it if they were members of the Protectorate, but her Wards needed a more delicate touch. "If you see or hear the Penumbral Defenders doing anything-"
"We'll tell you," Gallant lied, interrupting her. Whether that meant they were doing something, or just that they were keeping secrets, she couldn't tell.
"See that you do," she told him, content in having told them both. "Dismissed. I'm sure Ms. Dallon is waiting for you." The two had been nearly inseparable, and she wondered what she'd do when Gallant left.
They walked out, leaving Piggot to her thoughts and her paperwork once more. She had reports about people sneaking into the green zones to loot, some of whom never came back. Heroes had gone in as well, some injured, some going missing. She wanted to put up a cordon at the edge, telling people not to enter, but she didn't have the resources or permission to even do that little.
Just as she was starting to get back into the swing of things, her door swung open and one of the most powerful, and least regulated, men in America walked in without knocking. "Legend, what can I do for the Protectorate?" she asked, cutting him off before he could talk.
He smiled at her, which would be charming enough if she didn't know it meant he was dropping something new on her desk. "Director Piggot, you don't need to do anything. I know how busy you are. I'm coming by to tell you that me and my team are heading back to New York. We've done all we could, and we're needed back home. The Nightstalkers have decided to start making trouble again, and other groups have decided it's back to business as usual."
"Of course," Piggot nodded in outward understanding, internally seething. If she'd been given command of the teams that had been stationed here, they could've locked down the borders and kept the dozens of people that'd likely already died from entering. "And the help that I've requested to clear the green zones?"
"You won't need it," he assured her.
She hoped, even though she knew she shouldn't. "Then your superiors are taking my suggestion and quarantining the city?"
The man shook his head, "No. I've spoken with the Chief Director, and the lingering powers are slowly fading. I'm sure you've seen the water wall that young Vista made is finally starting to collapse."
"But the others-," she tried to argue.
"Are closer to the center of whatever happened, and will take longer," he countered. "Watchdog thinks that within the year the city should be safe, and then we can rebuild."
Piggot looked at the man, unable to stop herself from snorting derisively, she hated it when she did that, but the point had to be made. "And who will build? It's ruins. It'd be cheaper to go a dozen miles up or down the coast and start from scratch! You've seen the numbers."
Legend gave her another charming smile. She wondered if he practiced it in the mirror. "That'll be a problem for someone else. On a more pressing note, have you seen a hero by the name of Vejovis around? I'd like to have a quick chat with him."
Piggot stared the member of the Triumvirate, wondering why one new hero was so important. She knew the man was making waves in Brockton Bay, waves she disapproved of, but he'd done nothing large enough to get the attention of someone like Legend. The fact that this wasn't the first time he'd asked was getting on her already frayed nerves, she responded professionally, "I've received word that he's alive, but he hasn't been seen. I assume he was injured in the fighting, though he should still be able to consult."
"Consult?" Legend asked, the confusion momentary and gone in an instant, replaced with an easy smile. "Yes, you're right, he doesn't need to be in fighting shape for that."
That's not why you want to talk to him, the woman observed. It'd been interesting to watch the parahuman run circles around their assigned 'expert' in that video-call, all without claiming to use any powers. Definitely worth putting Gallant in quarantine for a few hours, as it had shown Ms. Militia's accusations to be unfounded. The last thing they needed was a human Master running around the city.
However, if that wasn't what Legend wanted him for, what did the man want? She could play coy, be tactful, but sometimes being direct gave one more intel. "If not consulting, what do you want him for? He's not going to join the Protectorate, Legend. He's made that abundantly clear," she observed, watching his expression closely.
"Are you sure of that?" the man asked, looking a little disappointed. "Oh well, I'll still try to see if I can bring him around. A conversation won't hurt."
He looked at her, smiling genially, and she looked at him, shrewdly. She knew he was lying, that there was some other reason Legend wanted to talk to Vejovis. Legend knew that she knew he was lying, but was willing to smile and pretend nothing was wrong. After a long moment the parahuman nodded to her, telling her, "If that's all, I really need to go. Have a good day, Director."
With that he left, closing the door behind him, and Emily resisted the urge to scream in frustration. She'd seen the same reports that he was referencing. Some of the PRT's Thinkers thought the ruins were fine, some thought the place was a ticking time-bomb, and some didn't think it existed at all, to the point they argued that the photos were fake!
However, the PRT couldn't take a piss without their pet parahumans saying it was safe to do so. Instead of relying on normal people, they followed the word of capes, even when the evidence was staring them in the face! Piggot sighed, turning back to her paperwork. She couldn't do anything about this, so she'd deal with what she could handle.
She wished that Calvert hadn't decided to take a fucking sabbatical of all things with his accrued vacation. She didn't like the man, but he was effective, and she needed all the help she could get if she wanted to keep the lid on this bulging can of worms waiting to spill out all over New England.