Author Note: As a quick notice, I fucked up and skipped A Waken 12.9 which is kind of a big fuckup on my part . This is what I get for trying to throw things up in a rush before going to do something else. Really sorry about that to anyone who missed it. That ones kind of important for understanding what's going on in Arc 13.


A Waken 13.2

I waited by the front of the school for a change. It wasn't as bad as it was at the start of the year—being where people could see me that is. Arcadia returned to normal fairly quickly. Not normal, maybe. Things went as if they were normal, though. Many people passed me by without more than a cursory glance or angry glare. A few from my classes said hi and I replied.

It was all surprisingly normal.

Murrue: Everything is arranged

Murrue: We'll have a vehicle pick up Charlotte

Murrue: She's been in the news but not as much as you

Murrue: we'll call her out of class and Mu will pick her up

I stared at the messages, mostly trying to grapple with it. I'd stared for the past few minutes and stared a minute more before replying.

Taylor: I'll tell her

Taylor: See you at two

Time to settle.

I'd probably be happier if it wasn't a consolation prize for a whole mess of disappointments, but I could certainly use more income.

Banks, unfortunately, don't give out loans to teenage super heroines, regardless of who they are. I'd been skirting a lot on goodwill the past month and I didn't want to keep doing that. Kati needed a budget. The Dockworkers and Tekkadan needed a proper contract. I managed to get everything signed with Turbines and Yashima, but that money remained tied up in the legal sphere for at least another week while the lawyers talked it out.

"Taylor Hebert."

I raised my head, looking at the pudgy boy standing by the bench. "Yes."

Theo put on a remorseful face. He dressed like Dean, though it didn't look as good on him. Long sleeve oxford shirt, slacks, and nice shoes. Suppose it wasn't that different from my own style of dress with fashionable blouses and ties.

"I'm sorry," he said. "For what my father did."

"Your father?"

"Kaiser."

The name alone got more than a few heads to turn. A few had already stopped on their way into Arcadia to watch us, and our carefully prepared piece of theatre. Theo could emancipate himself, but he still needed to go to school. I believed he wasn't a Nazi; hopefully enough other people would manage to believe it as well, to keep his school life nominally tame.

"Are you like him?" I asked, eyes narrow and lips set in a frown.

"No," he answered. "I hate my father."

"Then I don't see why you need to apologize to me." I looked away from him and rose from the bench. "You haven't done me any wrong."

I started walking into the building and Theo followed me.

"All the same," he said.

I didn't respond, but I did glance around at the people watching us. They were already whispering and texting. Soon most of Arcadia would know Max Anders' son was at Arcadia, that he said he wasn't a Nazi, and that he apologized to Newtype. I expected some 'lost in translation' as the information traveled around but it was a start.

"It's fine. I have more important things to worry about, unless you know where Kaiser is."

"He's not much of a father," Theo muttered. "Sorry."

"Front office is that way." I pointed. "First day, right?"

"Thanks."

We parted ways like that.

It wasn't long before I saw him again.

"We're going to have our work cut out for us, Mr. Anders." Coach Zabi ran alongside him on the track. "Come on. Keep going. Left. Right. Left again. Finishing is the real prize!"

Theo haggardly ran, clearly unaccustomed to exercising. He kept going, though. Coach Zabi moved on quickly when it became clear he didn't intend to stop, even if he was the last in the class to start and the last to finish.

"Eighteen minutes," I said as Theo heaved in front of me. I volunteered to time everyone again. "You okay?"

"Fine," he heaved.

Sweat poured off his face in big drops, and I asked if he wanted to lay down. He refused, though I could tell he was forcing himself to stand. I asked if he was sure.

"I should lose weight anyway." He inhaled heavily. "It's fine, really."

"Okay."

I slid the stopwatch into one hand and held the clipboard to my side. We stood alone off the track, everyone else having moved on to other activities. The next closest people were some boys playing football twenty feet away. Too far to really hear anything we said.

"Zimmerman," I said.

"You're right," Theo affirmed. "It's him."

"Is he talking to your dad?"

Theo shook his head, sending sweat flying. "No. I think Harker is, but that's a mistake on dad's part."

I thought over the name for a moment. "The head of R&D?"

Theo nodded. "She's like him. Nazism is just a means to an end for her. She likes money and the FDA and IRS are looking at her hard."

"You think you can get her to flip?"

"She'd rather be in charge herself, but she can't be right now. Too many eyes watching."

"You're going to string her along?"

Theo nodded again.

"Sure you're okay?"

Another nod. If he was sure.

"I'll sic StarGazer on her. She has to be hiding some money somewhere. Either we blackmail her with that when needed, or we expose it and get her arrested."

"I think I can handle it. Just need to get some of the more nervous members of the board on my side. They want their money more than anything. Once I have them in my pocket, I can bully Harker. She likes to think she's a leader, but she's not. She'll follow if things play out right."

A few people did note us talking, but we covered ourselves with a very public talk at the start of the day. People would believe our current conversation a continuation of that, and we could tell anyone who asked that we were talking about whatever suited us. Theo could come off as remorseful for his family legacy at school, and Theo could tell the greedy racists he'd managed to get on my good side.

It helped that I did like him. We shared less than stellar fathers—

I inhaled and pushed that thought away. Isn't therapy supposed to make things better? Dad's not a Nazi and I did appreciate that he was trying to work through things with me earnestly. Just turned out that therapy was work and work can be frustrating.

"The Helpers are almost ready," I noted.

"It's too early to involve Medhall."

I agreed. It's one thing for Theo Anders and Taylor Hebert to reconcile, but making a big business deal for mass production tinker tech? That was a bit much.

"Can you get me to a doctor who would be interested? It's a difficult process if I have to wait for one to be selected by the PRT. Better if I can get one to forward the idea to the PRT first. Makes everything go faster."

"Let me think." He ran a hand over his face, and apparently only then realized how sweaty he was. "Um. Vienna. Jacob Vienna. He used to inform the Empire on people who passed through Brockton General, looking for triggers."

I grimaced at that, and not just because I'd been admitted to Brockton General after the locker. "Used to?"

"He didn't like doing it. Refused to keep doing it after Squealer got grabbed."

"Did he have anything to do with it?"

"No, but I remember hearing dad rant about it. Hookwolf wanted to force the matter, but the others were worried the PRT would find out the Empire was looking for fresh triggers so he got to slip out."

"And he'll help me?"

"Tell him I sent you. He knows me."

"He does?"

Theo smiled weakly. "He delivered my sister."

Oh. "Think he'll figure out what we're doing?"

"He'll know something is up. He didn't like Kaiser any more than I did. He'll help to stick it to the Empire."

I nodded and walked with him back inside. The daily basketball game was already going. I contented myself with sitting next to Lafter while she tossed a ball at the wall and caught it.

"New boyfriend?"

"Just giving him the cover he needs."

"Sure. Sure."

Charlotte was right. Her job was tormenting me.

Thankfully, Coach Zabi was outside so he didn't get on our case for not exercising, though he didn't really press Lafter much about it after the Hacky Sack incident. I think that capably demonstrated that projectile-based sports and Lafter were not a safe fit, which didn't absolve the disappointment that we'd never play dodgeball and watch her win by default, but it was safer.

After gym, most of the day was waiting for the clock to count down.

I actually kind of liked math after my speech. Sutherland was a smart bigot. He didn't do anything that could readily expose him. If people did well on tests and could answer questions, he grumbled but went with it. I ended up making it kind of a game.

"Thanks, Taylor." Mary pushed the study guide back toward me. "This really helped."

"No problem," I replied, taking the guide from her. "The textbook isn't well written."

The only people who failed the last quiz were some of the kids Sutherland let skate through class. I'd successfully managed to distribute study guides to everyone else, and the last pop quiz went very well. For us. Sutherland probably wanted someone to fail so he could single them out.

Too bad for him.

"Can I see that?"

I glanced over my shoulder at Marcus after the bell rang. He was one of Sutherland's favorites, and he looked utterly displeased to be asking me for anything.

"Sure."

I held it out to him.

"Must be nice to have your power do the math for you," he grumbled.

"Nothing I can do about it." I shrugged. "It doesn't turn off. Do you want the guide or not?"

He did a little more grumbling, then he took it.

Maybe he wanted to give the guide to Sutherland. Accuse me of cheating or something. Well, for once I wasn't afraid of that. Badgiruel and Gladly were sticking to their guns—to my surprise in the latter case—and weren't tolerating any crap. I wasn't giving anyone test answers or anything, and I'd submitted the guide to the Math Club before letting anyone else look at it to give a date on when I created it.

Maybe Marcus wanted to do better on the next quiz. I took that as a small victory. I knew he failed the last one.

Tacitly taking my help was tantamount to acknowledging my existence as more than an object of scorn. Small victories like that would matter in Arcadia and they were the victories I needed to break down the stark divide in the student body.

English carried on as normal, with a brief introduction for Theo to the class. He got some looks and some whispers. Vicky and Weld both seemed suspicious of him, but they clearly wanted to talk about something else.

"You arrested Bastard Son?" Vicky asked.

"Lafter was there too."

"You went all the way down to Charleston for that?"

"One of his goons broke Master O's arm and threatened the Foundation. Wanted to force them into the Elite."

Weld looked confused. Vicky looked shocked.

"Who?"

"The guys who busted Heartbreaker? Since when do you know them?"

"Few months," I answered. "We've been working on some projects together."

She gave me a stern look. "How do you meet these people?"

"Dragon."

"I still don't know how you met Dragon!"

"Internet." I think she expected a more surprising story. "I can tell you after class if you're so excited."

I didn't want to talk to her about how I met Dragon.

"How are things with you-know-who?" I asked after Weld left the room. I didn't know if he knew or not, but it seemed rude to bring it up while he was around.

"It's okay. Little awkward cause we don't really know each other, but we get along."

"Any problems with your family?"

Vicky rolled her eyes. "They'd have to care to notice. It's not like we've done anything huge yet. Someone got rid of the gangs."

"I can have StarGazer send you some stuff," I offered. "It's amazing what stupid criminals will say they're going to do on the internet, and I'm on the lookout for retaliation from the Elite right now."

"Why do I get the sense you're using us to clean up the crooks you don't want to?"

Well... "I guess I am? Sorry. I don't mean to be rude."

Vicky sighed. "It's fine. You-know-who can probably get away with a bust here and there, so long as it's nothing that makes TV news. I'm not ready to talk to my parents about it either. A little street cleaning works for both of us, I think."

"I know it's not glamorous. I've kind of left that stuff for the Haros to handle."

That put a smile on her face. "Yeah. I saw the video of them chasing Cozen through the street with glitter bombs. You know humiliation is how Mouse Protector does things."

And that just reminded me of the video of Veda teaming up with Mouse Protector after completing the raid of Agnes Court's meth lab. Namely, the part where Mouse quietly walked into a fancy ballroom party to open a balcony door so Veda could fly Queen inside and strike a pose with her.

Not the image I wanted to inspire, but I didn't want to tell Veda not to do it either.

It was kind of nice to see her going out and doing her own things.

Just wish I knew what a Jojo reference was and why everyone was asking about it.

The aftermath was at least enlightening. Agnes Court claimed to know nothing of any meth lab. I...sort of believed her? She could be a good liar, but my gut said something else was going on. Someone in her organization went behind her back or something. The outcome specifically didn't matter that much, but when the time came for the Elite to go, it would be useful to know who in the group could be transitioned away from its darker side.

Agnes Court in particular had a useful power for disaster relief, though I found some of her comments to be elitist. Not far from how Kaiser talked, just without the racism.

I got the same questions from Chris I got from Vicky, though he kept his voice much lower.

"I helped the Foundation walk away," I repeated.

"They're heading this way?" Trevor asked.

"Yeah."

"That'll be interesting. I wanted to talk to them about the E-Carbon concept."

I nodded. "We won't have to talk long distance anymore. How'd your weekend project go by the way?"

Trevor smiled. "I worked out the last of the kinks."

"Anything interesting?" Chris asked.

"Taylor doesn't want anyone to know about it."

"I like my surprises." I managed a smirk. "They're my hallmark."

Chris gave me a sardonic smile. "Have to protect your brand."

On my other side, Trevor said, "I thought your brand was over-plan and overkill?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'll check it out when I get back. Give it a quick test drive."

"Be careful with the calculations," Trevor noted. "The OS is still kind of clanky."

"I'll have StarGazer look over it."

On my glasses, Veda already acknowledged the request. She sent the Haros to go grab the device and carry it into the workshop for some quick testing. Trevor worked fast. My next 'surprise' would go smoother if I didn't have to drive to Hartford.

I ate my quickly thrown together wrap, lamenting that months of Pink's food may well have ruined me. Charlotte had a bowl of soup in front of her while we ate, her new Celestial Being phone in hand… Maybe I should sell cellphones? It works for Dragon.

"Did you know people were betting on who would win in a fight between you and Bastard Son?"

I swallowed my bite and hummed. "Sounds like the Internet."

"Apparently a bunch of people figured it would never happen, so they all bet on Bastard Son still being free in a few days. A few people bet on you and made it big."

"Good for them."

Charlotte lowered the phone and looked out toward the city. "It's almost time, isn't it?"

"Yeah." I finished the rest of my wrap. The paper crumpled in my hands, and the trash went into the bin nearby. "Let's go be done with it."

Charlotte closed her lunchbox. "Yeah."

"Murrue told me the PRT was sending a car to get you."

"What should I do?"

"Go to class. You'll be called to the office and a trooper named La Flaga will be waiting for you. He's Murrue's… Boyfriend, I think?"

I'd never actually asked that. I'd just seen them together more than a few times, and whenever Murrue wanted something delicate 'handled' that she couldn't do herself, it was always La Flaga who ended up doing it.

She nodded and went on her way as the bell rang. I went the opposite direction, walking down the stone walkway leading away from Arcadia. It didn't take me long to reach the PRT building.

It occurred to me that I hadn't been by much since being outed.

When I walked in, a waiting tour group immediately recognized me. Fortunately, I didn't have to sign anything for the crowd. A group of troopers waited to meet me at the front doors. Noa fell in at my side as I entered.

"This way," he stated. "Everyone is already waiting upstairs."

I glanced past him toward the crowd. They were snapping pictures and calling out to me. The troopers were sufficient to keep them from approaching, thankfully.

"Thanks," I murmured.

"Important meeting," he said, just loud enough someone might overhear it. "As endearing as the public's adoration is, there's work to be done."

"True."

The crossing still felt longer than it should have as dozens of eyes turned my way. I felt grateful most of them would never know precisely why I was coming into the building in the middle of the day. Green sat on the reception desk, giving out signatures as people came and went. He jumped down as I passed and rolled over to my side, while calling back to his admirers.

"Have a nice day, have a nice day!"

As we approached a door on the far side of the lobby, Noa turned his head. "Confirmed. Use the auxiliary garage." To me he said, "Ms. Berman is with Lieutenant La Flaga now."

"Are her parents already here?"

"Yes," he acknowledged. "Your father as well. We could have picked you up as well."

"I wanted the exercise," I said with a negligent wave. "Busy schedule. I take all the walking and running I can get."

He nodded and stepped ahead to open the door. From there my escort stopped and we continued along on our own. I held my silence through the halls and up the elevator. I'd never been to the same conference room twice. The PRT building seemed to have a dozen of them, though the one Noa took me to was larger than the others.

Good thing too.

"Ah, Ms. Hebert." Copeland smiled from his side of the long table. "Ms. Berman is on her way I trust?"

Noa took a position by the door, ignoring Copeland. His eyes turned to Charlotte's mother and father. "Lieutenant La Flaga will have her here shortly."

Dad sat next to Mr. Berman, a single empty seat between him and Talia. I walked around the table and took the seat. I gave Talia a brief greeting. Then I turned to dad.

"Hi."

He managed a smile. "Good day at school?"

"It's fine. Study guide is helping some of the kids in calculus."

I felt sad that a few terse words constituted actual progress.

Across the table, a row of men and women in the same dark suit watched us quietly. Renick sat far in, to my right, and Armsmaster stood just off to the side with Miss Militia. I wasn't sure why either of them needed to be present, but it didn't really matter to me.

In a way, I appreciated it.

Nine months since I came to the PRT to try and join the Wards. I assumed the worst of both of them after realizing Sophia was Shadow Stalker, but time rendered many of those assumptions unfounded. If they were here now, it reinforced the PRT's goal. Sophia messed up and the program needed amendments to function better in the future.

Hopefully, the image they projected reflected in actual decisions made.

Charlotte came into the room with Murrue right behind her. I noted that Murrue kept walking around the table until Charlotte took the empty seat between her mother and father, then decided to stand right behind us, arms folded behind her back. Renick gave her an inquisitive look, but she didn't move.

I guess she was trying to make her own point.

"Well, I believe we're all here now." Copeland folded his hands together and one of the other Blue Cosmos lawyers produced a large stack of documents from a briefcase under the table. "We've been informed you have an offer. Let's get down to it."

Across the table, an older balding man rose and looked to Renick. Renick gave a small nod and the bald man nodded to one of the other PRT lawyers. Many pleasantries were exchanged and names given. I only half listened to them.

My skin was crawling.

This should have been a win. A meager and weak win, but a win all the same. Blue Cosmos wanted to gain from my pain, and Charlotte's, to make some vapid PR win for the bigots of the world. Murrue stuck her neck out to help me stop that from happening. Charlotte put herself at risk too. Blue Cosmos could sue all three of us for fraud because we conspired to settle the lawsuit before it even started.

Fuck you Calvert.

He ruined everything and the only consolation was that I'd be done with the matter. Teacher would get his PR stab against the PRT and I couldn't stop it. The fact most of my bullies would parade around about how they were the victims too just rubbed salt in the wound.

A young woman probably fresh out of college walked around the table after all the greetings concluded.

She gave Copeland two packets of paper.

"The PRT has decided that this is not a fight it can or should win," the bald man said. I'd missed his introduction. He spared Charlotte and I a single, solemn look. "Shadow Stalker was a probationary Ward known for violent tendencies, she should have been more strictly monitored. A grave mistake was made in assuming she only engaged in such actions while masked and for this Ms. Hebert and Ms. Berman should be compensated, though we are not under the delusion that money or apologies will undo what has been done."

Armsmaster took that as his cue to speak up. "The Protectorate is particularly aware of the trauma that comes with trigger events. Powers are not a consolation prize. We should have been far more wary of Shadow Stalker's civilian activities, for which we are responsible."

Kind of weird how we were all dancing around the fact I knew basically everyone in the room moderately well, actually.

"Changes have been instituted to the Wards program," Miss Militia added somberly, "because of Shadow Stalker's actions. We wanted to be able to tell that to the Bermans and the Heberts."

I expected some kind of mean rebuttal, but Copeland was staring down at the pages in his hands.

My brow went up at that. I expected a bunch of self-serving pontificating, not a vacant stare.

From my other side, Talia called his name. "Joseph?"

Copeland passed both packets down. Mr. Berman took one, and pushed the other down towards Dad.

He picked the packet up and I leaned in to get a better look.

My heart jumped and I actively resisted the urge to turn around to look at Murrue. Part of me started wondering if standing behind us wasn't just about solidarity, or her belief we'd been wronged. She wanted to make sure the PRT didn't squelch.

"As I said." The bald lawyer sat back down. "We have no interest in arguing against or denying that a great wrong has been committed, one that has radically altered the course of Ms. Herbert and Ms. Berman's lives, and the lives of their families."

That's more money than I got for arresting the international assassin.

A lot more. I could build a dozen factories with that many zeroes. At first, I thought I was reading wrong and that Charlotte and I would split the money. No. The document read fairly plainly, and said each right before 'will be granted compensation of ten million dollars.'

"May I?" Talia held her hand out and Dad reluctantly passed the document to her.

On his other side, the Bermans looked flabbergasted, even Charlotte who knew the money would be 'egregious' because I told her. Her mother worded 'college' as she looked to Mr. Berman, the man's face fixed in a mix of anger and shock.

"There are NDAs here," Talia noted as she looked through our copy. "Several of them."

"The PRT will offer the listed sum as damages without contest," Mr. Bald clarified immediately. "As the story has already leaked to the media, we will not ask anyone to remain silent about Shadow Stalker's actions or the failure of the PRT and Protectorate to prevent them."

"The NDAs ask only that Ms. Hebert not reveal the identities of any members of the Wards." Renick looked directly at me. "We don't believe you intend to do anything of the sort. Nevertheless, some of the families are nervous. We've had a few meetings asking if Sophia Hess broke the unwritten rules"—I needed a moment to figure why anyone would ask that—"and while we've tried to explain, I believe they will all feel more secure if I can tell them you've promised not to retaliate against the Wards."

I took a moment to process why anyone would think I'd do that.

"The only Ward who could be responsible for Shadow Stalker's actions was Aegis," Armsmaster explained. "I'm sure Ms. Hebert is aware that he passed in Boston, as did Shadow Stalker."

"There's nothing the other Wards could have done to curtail Sophia's actions absent direct knowledge," Miss Militia added. "Obtaining that knowledge shouldn't be their responsibility regardless."

"The PRT and Protectorate will accept criticism," Renick continued. "Including criticism directed at Triumph, who is now a member of the Protectorate and had been the Wards team leader for most of the time Shadow Stalker served as a Ward in Brockton Bay."

"It's fine." I glanced down to Charlotte at the mention of Aegis. "I don't have anything against the rest of the Wards."

"Me neither," Charlotte agreed.

I understood the request. I had outed the Empire after arranging for them to out me. As far as everyone else was concerned, I'd shown full willingness to follow through on my threat. I suppose worried parents might be letting their fears run wild. After going as far as to pay me ten million dollars, I didn't see the PRT screwing me over with any tricks like that.

After Charlotte and I gave our assent, things just became a series of papers and signatures. One Blue Cosmos lawyer tried to encourage us not to accept the offer and that we could probably get more if the PRT was offering so much as a starting point. Charlotte did me the favor of making the loudest rebuttals.

"I want to get on with my life," she refused firmly.

I wondered if Blue Cosmos knew she'd started working at the factory yet.

The signing went quick. The lawyers jargoned with one another. More apologies came our way. I just couldn't bring myself to care. I'd lost the little battle around me, and I lost it so late in the fight I could do nothing but accept it.

I preferred to move on to fights I could still win.

The meeting went on for another hour, and then the lawyers seemed done listening to themselves. They filed out in quick order, save for Talia. She kept stealing sideways glances at me, and I got the feeling she knew what I did. She didn't comment.

Behind me, Murrue spoke in a soft whisper. "The Director wants to talk with you."

I turned. "New Director, or the visiting one?"

"Tagg," she responded.

Visiting then.

I checked the time on my phone. "Will it take long?"

"I don't know."

Of course not. That would be too convenient. I didn't want to appear in a hurry though. That might raise eyebrows tomorrow. "Where is he?"

Murrue pulled out her phone and started dialing.

"Really?"

"He is technically running two departments."

Her tone sounded a bit hollow. I raised my brow, but she offered no explanation.

She glanced at Talia and the woman needed a moment to notice. She seemed to take the hint though and stepped around us to talk to Charlotte and her parents. Suspicious I'd pressured her into going along with my scheme? Part of me felt like I did, but I kept giving Charlotte chances to go her own way or back out. She could have ratted me out too.

She did none of those things.

"Taylor?" Dad looked at me curiously.

I feigned a wave. "Have to talk to Director Tagg. Just need a minute."

Murrue finished dialing and handed the phone to me. I took it—I quickly memorized the number for later just in case—and raised it to my ear.

The phone rang a few times and when it picked up, a deep voice asked, "Ramius or Hebert?"

"Newtype," I answered.

"I've been asked to inquire as to your recent field trip down south."

Hello to you too. "What about it? Did the PRT lose Bastard Son already?"

"He's still snug as a bug in a cell. Though given his connections, I wouldn't be surprised. Neither of that is really our concern though." Isn't it? "A lot of other Directors are very nervous. They don't like the idea of a cape from half-the-country away dropping in unannounced and stirring up fights. Your firebrand approach to organized crime was well warranted in Brockton Bay, but other cities have a much tighter hold on things. The possibility that someone might rock the boat without regard for consequence makes my fellows uncomfortable."

Wow. Not an ounce of pleasantries. Well, I was in a bit of hurry.

"Bastard Son threatened the Foundation and broke Master O's arm. They're friends of mine."

"Then your venture was retaliatory? Chicago?"

"Driving the point home. Between Gundams, Haros, and my factory, I can be in four places at once. I don't think the Elite wants me to make use of that."

"There's still one major villain in Brockton Bay. I suspected you might deal with her first, especially since a recent bounty payment has supplied all the funds she'll ever need."

Good thing only Murrue could see the frown on my face. I think she figured it out already when she saw Orga at my little meeting. I'd hoped for more time before the rest of the PRT started getting suspicious.

"Bakuda is as dangerous as she is inactive. Even when Lung was around, she avoided getting drawn into destructive battles unless directly challenged. Given her specialty, I'd be content to leave her be as long as she's content to be left be. Better than watching half the city explode."

"That didn't stop you from dealing with Lung or Kaiser."

"Lung and Kaiser weren't tinkers." He's suspicious. "I tried bashing my way into another tinker's workshop before. Squealer had a robo-tank."

"We could coordinate. The PRT is not content to leave a cape as dangerous and unstable as Bakuda in the wind with all the money in the world to tinker away."

"Funny how that kind of proactive action would have been useful before."

"Piggot saw the job as management. Manage the capes. Manage the public. Manage expectations. Manage damage. I view the role differently."

"And that role is?"

"Win the war." That's an ominous feeling. "I think you and I see eye-to-eye on a number of things, Ms. Hebert. The need to aggressively pursue powered criminals being one of them."

I tried to think carefully over what to say. Renick and Armsmaster were still in the room, after all… And suddenly it felt like I'd been put on the spot on purpose. Armsmaster. Lie detector. Fuck.

"I worked very hard to remove the elements that were holding Brockton Bay on the razor's edge," I said. "Empire. ABB. Coil. Merchants. They're all gone now. For the first time in my life, Brockton Bay has a chance to build. I'm not going to throw that chance away just to fight a cape who might be a threat."

"There's no might here."

"There is. Since Lung's arrest Bakuda has been eerily helpful"—which was entirely true, in my opinion, irony aside—"and so long as she stays content to mind her own business and not pick fights for no reason, I see little reason to risk creating a mad bomber."

"The Patriots—"

"The Patriots were idiots." I rolled my eyes. I didn't even trick them into doing what they did. They just did it. "An entire city to set up in and they tried to horn in on the part Bakuda lives in."

"And if she decides she needs more living space?"

"Then she's crossed the line." That was the threat I'd made to her. One step over the line and I'd have no choice but to deal with her, but she'd kept her word so far. No drugs. No beatings. No bodies. "Until then, there are far more dangerous groups worth my interest."

"I see."

Click. Click? Did he just hang up on me?

I lowered the phone, staring at the screen. "Not very personable, is he?"

"Be careful," Murrue whispered. "Tagg isn't in New York by coincidence. The Chief Director wanted someone hard to counterbalance Legend."

"Aka, the nicest cape ever?"

It was a sardonic statement, but it was Legend's reputation. Alexandria was hard, Hero was heroic, and Legend was nice. Though, I found myself questioning how nice, given what I suspected about the cape illuminati. Still, Legend gave the speeches before Endbringer battles for a reason.

"Yes," Murrue said. "And Tagg is as aggressive as he thinks he needs to be, which is usually very."

I could tell she didn't like him. That made me wary. Murrue didn't like some of the things Piggot did, but I never got the sense she disliked Piggot. I might have disagreed with everything the previous director did, but in the end?

Piggot was… respectable.

I gave Murrue her phone back, unsure if I should view Tagg as an annoyance to navigate or a threat to handle. How much did he suspect? He didn't give much away in the little chat and I'd avoided telling any lie Armsmaster might pick up… However, it was a weird setting. Armsmaster would ask directly if he thought I was secretly working with Bakuda. He wouldn't do any cloak and dagger games.

Tagg could have pulled me aside to talk, and instead he arranged for a phone call in the middle of a room where a Deputy Director, Armsmaster, and my father were present?

It was only a matter of time 'till someone caught on.

I needed to warn Kati, let her know we might need to run damage control sooner than hoped. The Helpers could be tested soon. That would give us something.

"We should go outside," Murrue said, glancing at Armsmaster and Renick. "Let everything finish up in here privately."

Renick nodded and Armsmaster followed him. Murrue said she'd be outside when we finished to escort us from the building.

Walking up to Talia's side, I looked at Charlotte. "You okay?"

She raised her head from the papers. "Um. Yeah." She looked at the pages again. "That's a lot of money."

"Enough to pay for college and graduate school. A yacht or two."

"I'd settle for a car."

"Or not a car," her father said sternly.

"I am kind of glad Taylor travels by Gundam," Dad said behind me. "No bad drivers to sideswipe her."

"Doesn't StarGazer drive?" Charlotte asked.

"She's a very safe driver," Dad and I said at the same time.

I spent most of the next thirty minutes trying not to look at the clock and hoping I didn't come off as too rude. The Bermans wanted to go out and eat. I made an excuse about needing to check on a project back at the factory. Talia kept giving me weird looks, and I felt somewhat bad about ignoring them. Of all the Blue Cosmos lawyers, she was the only one who actually cared about what happened.

The rest just wanted their victory.

By the time I finally got out of the conference room, and the building, it was nearly five. Amazing how long lawyers can go just babbling at one another.

I got to the factory thirty minutes later, dressed up in my costume, and turned around.

"You're late," Aisha complained. She wore her own costume, Black hanging on her back and peering over her shoulder. "I've been waiting."

"Lawyers like to talk. Veda, does it work?"

"I have completed three tests with Red, and Purple," she said. "I believe the device is functional and safe, though too slow for more than rudimentary transportation."

"It'll do for now."

I stepped over to the elevator the Haros installed in the back of the workshop. It ran along the wall with enough space for five Gundams to stand. It moved smoothly, lowering Aisha and I down into the sub-basement.

Unlike the workshop above, the sub-basement was mostly for storage and testing. I'd moved the isolation cubes and some of the equipment into the space. One side I planned to expand to build a hardened bunker. We'd house Veda's processors and backup systems there, with a dedicated generator to protect her in case the factory ever came under assault.

Veda was powerful, but it was easy to overlook she could be crippled, or even killed, with a well-placed bomb she didn't know was there. Her program was too complex now. She could not just bail from the factory into the internet at the drop of a hat. That kind of last resort could severely damage her. I built a backup processor farm in O'Neil's because I still owned the beat down garage, but I wanted to be sure.

Specialized bunker it was, at least until plan A became viable.

Walking to one of the isolation rooms, Aisha and I came before a ring on the floor. Yellow and Navy were working at it, adjusting some components in the blocky section at the far end.

"You're sure this is safe?" Aisha hedged warily.

"I have also tested it on two cats and a Ruben sandwich," Veda claimed.

A Ruben?

Aisha looked up at the ceiling, even though Veda didn't have any cameras up there. "The cats are still alive, right?"

"Yes."

"It's fine," I maintained. "Let's go."

I stepped into the ring and Aisha followed me.

"Green." Holding my hands out, I caught him as he jumped. "Fire it up, Veda."

"Activating. Spin up will require a further eighteen seconds."

I didn't see anything spinning, but I'd inspected Trevor's design. The ring contained three rings that spun against one another. The whole device worked on some hyper-quantum understanding of friction and space that went far beyond me. Like my brain could see the math but the math was in Japanese or something. The whole schematic made my head hurt. Fortunately, I trusted Trevor's work. He might be fickle about many things, but not tinkering.

Besides. The Haros would never do anything to harm a cat.

"Please ensure all limbs are within the rings," Veda said. "Five."

"So," Aisha mumbled.

"Four."

"What"—three—"happens"—two—"after"—one

A flash of light and a sudden overwhelming sense of vertigo interrupted Aisha.

I hit the ground hard and then rolled to my side to vomit. I heard Aisha do the same.

"That didn't happen to the cats."

"They okay?"

"Aisha?"

"I will get a mop."

A hand pressed to my back. "Alright?"

I raised my head, eyes meeting Faultline's mask. "Fine."

Aside from violent teleportation-induced vomiting, it worked. Points for Chariot. Not my best entrance, though.

I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth. I swallowed the taste of bile and pushed myself up. Grue crouched over Aisha, and Spitfire and Newter stood off to the side against the wall. Spitfire held a cat in her arms, hand scratching at its neck. We were in a basement of some kind, full of a musty smell and old boxes. Behind me, Gregor rooted around in a closet, presumably for a mop.

Green rolled over to a door and jumped onto a few boxes stacked to the side, joining Red and Purple. We'd have to work on teleporting back at some point.

Looking around the dank basement, I commented, "Hartford is very scenic. Where's the arms dealer?"


I think one of my greatest regrets with this story is that it took me so long to wrap up the lawsuit thing. That one really just spun away from me until holy shit it's more than half the fic how did I let this go for so long. Finally wrapping it up was cathartic more because I didn't have to write about it anymore than because I did a good job with it. Blarg.