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Sequela 11.3

  Within a few hours, the kidnapping had become the least of our worries. In part, because Director Piggot was returned alive and relatively well. The bigger component was what happened to Dragon's mechs. I wasn't sure where the idea of them perched like big, lazy cats outside Skitter's lair came from, but either my memory was worse than I though (plausible) or I'd fucked something somewhere along the timeline and now things were way off track (likely).

  One damaged enough to be useless, two melted down beyond recovery by Sundancer. The other four were gone, apparently in pursuit of the Slaughterhouse Nine. Our reinforcements gone within twenty-four hours. The atmosphere in the briefing room was dour, not a single smile to be seen. At least I'd been allowed to wash my hands before coming...

  “We're stepping back from offensive operations, for the foreseeable future.” Deputy Director Renick, a man I hadn't met yet, led the meeting from the head of the table. Piggot was down in the infirmary still. “With the election in the near future, we need to make sure the areas we control are a fortress. Reinforcements are on the way, once they do we can consider doing more.”

  “A line of contact?” Miss Militia asked, getting a nod.

  “Exactly.” Renick gestured to a map of the city, a mash of blue and red blocks roughly showing where we could actually do anything. “We'll continue getting people out of the villains' territories, fixing up where we can. By the time we go back in, it's likely you'll be able to take the gloves off.”

  “How's that work?” I asked. “They're going to be doing the same, plus recruiting and training. Who knows how many new parahumans are out there for them to snap up? Sir, one of their biggest guns is gone; now's the time to bite and hold.”

  “Interesting choice of words, Amaranth,” he said evenly. “But this isn't 1917 and I'm not General Haig. Attrition is a way for the PRT to win, not one I'm willing to employ.”

  “We should at least secure the downtown,” Miss Militia interjected. “Flechette, has Parian shown any willingness to work with us?”

  “Not exactly,” Flechette hedged, shifting uncomfortably. “Um, right now ma'am she's taking care of some...people who got messed up by Bonesaw. She's willing to bring them here for healing though, and I think she'd be willing to negotiate too.”

  “Amy said she can help,” I offered. Hadn't had the chance to update Lily yet, and I figured it was good for the rest of them to know this was viable. “Getting Dolltown would--”

  “Royale Street,” Renick snapped.

  “Yes sir, sorry.” I mentally rolled my eyes. “Anyway, that would be a foothold in Ballistic's territory. If Parian is affiliated with us, he won't want to pick a fight with the threat of the Protectorate that close.”

  “We're not going on the offensive, Wards,” the deputy director said gravely.

  “Defending our allies is objectively defensive, sir.” I grinned. At least Miss Militia was on-side. “Flechette, I'll go with you as soon as we're done here. I assume sir, you're not against us trying to recruit heroes to assist?” He sighed.

  “Much as I worry about escalation, no.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Take a van and a squad, just in case.”

  “Amaranth--”

  “I'll talk to her.” I crossed my arms and leaned back. “Not a fan of being used as a go-between though.”

  “I'd rather not,” Miss Militia admitted. “But I can't change circumstances. Clockblocker, you'll be acting captain until Gallant can be healed or recovers.”

  “Why is he--”

  “Personal reasons,” she cut him off. “Scapegoat will be part of the reinforcements coming, this is just a temporary measure.”

  “Fine,” Clockblocker sighed. “Do I get a raise?” I tried and failed to suppress a snort of laughter.

  “Everyone else, forget your patrol schedules,” she continued, ignoring the jibe. “We'll rework them shortly to account for the change in strategy. Anything else, deputy director?”

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  “No,” Renick said, standing. “Except to wish all of you good luck. I wish I didn't feel I had to.”

  Everyone rose and made their way out. I parted from the group, taking the stairs down to the infirmary. If Amy was healing again, and she was I'd seen Triumph, then she'd be here. We had plenty of casualties and...a nearly empty infirmary, actually. The only people I saw, besides the nurses, were Gallant and Glory Girl. I avoided the pair, they definitely didn't need me around. I sighed and turned around; god damn fucking Stranger 16 as usual.

  I headed back upstairs, taking the elevator this time; I wasn't keen on running back up four flights to get to the right level. It was nice Amy was healing again, but god if she would just stop running away from where I figured she'd be. At least this time, if I was lucky, she'd still be in the building. And when I knocked on her door, it turned out I was...for once.

  “Amaranth?” Amy cocked her head, sounding a little drained. “What's going on?”

  “Can I come in?” I asked, tugging at my mask. “It's not bad, just sick of wearing this thing.” She grinned and stepped back, out of the way.

  “Are you okay?” she said as I came in, looking me over. “I fixed everyone down in the infirmary except...” I bumped my shoulder against hers as she stared at the floor.

  “I'm fine,” I replied simply, pulling down my mask. “Not a scratch. Um, sit down?” We headed over to the couch, I really didn't feel like having her tower over me while we talked.

  “Okay, what's wrong?” Amy asked, frowning.

  “What? Nothing.” I sighed. “But I did come here to ask you for something, if that's okay.”

  “What?” I couldn't read her tone.

  “Um.” I swallowed. “Parian's folks are maybe coming here. They'll probably ask you to heal them.”

  “Oh, is that it?” I blinked.

  “Yes?”

  “Okay, sure,” Amy replied flatly. “When are they coming?”

  “Don't know, probably soon.” She looked at me, then away, then back. "What?"

  “Dinner?” I grinned.

  My stomach churned at the thought of food, but I was just happy Amy wasn't pissed at me for dragging her out to heal again when she'd just finished. Apparently she wasn't hungry either, since she just popped down a couple slices of toast and took out the butter. Neither of us were much for small talk, so the kitchen stayed quiet as our meal cooked. Once they popped up, we took a slice each and buttered them, then sat at the table and ate silently.

  “So,” Amy said, once she was done. I hadn't taken a bite yet. “What happened? I heard the Undersiders attacked. I sort of figured it out with the bugs acting weird, couldn't do anything though.”

  “Yeah, that's right.” I nodded. “Remember Dragon sent us her mechs? The Protectorate used them to attack the Undersiders, tried to cut all the heads off the hydra at once you know? Didn't work, and they managed to total three of the suits.”

  “Jesus.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Did we at least capture some of them?”

  “No,” I replied with a shake of my head. “Um, well, they lost Shatterbird. She's...dead.”

  “Dead?!” Amy exclaimed, eyes wide. “Who? How? I thought those fucks were too tough.” I swallowed my rising bile.

  “M-me.” I could still feel the crunch under my hand. I took a deep breath and tried again. “I did it. Not much of a choice, and it was probably a mercy anyway and she was under Regent's control so she--”

  “That's insane,” she breathed. Her eyes were wide, scared.

  “Sorry.” I shrank back. “I...I shouldn't have. I could have just broken her limbs, made her useless that way. The Undersiders don't have a healer, that would have worked, but instead I just go for the fucking throat because I'm a--”

  “Lia, Lia, easy.” I flinched as her hand touched mine, pulling away. “It's...okay. Fucked up as that is, it's true. She was a monster, right? Slaughterhouse Nine, and under Regent's control. That's a pretty fucking terrifying combo, if you ask me. And...and she had a kill order anyway, right? Like...I don't know Lia, it's fucked up sure, but I don't know if it's wrong.” I swallowed hard.

  “Fuck,” I swore shakily. I felt like throwing up; thank god I'd skipped breakfast...and lunch. “Fuck Amy I can still feel it.” She reached out and grabbed my hand. This time I let her be. “A-and it's not the first time. You know that. I...I did it again, didn't hesitate, didn't even fucking think. I...Jack was right, I'm perfect for them.” I felt her squeeze my hand.

  “We both know that isn't true,” Amy said quietly. “You're...maybe you're not a good person, same way I'm not, but I don't think killing Shatterbird was bad.” She huffed and shook her head. “Maybe says more about me than you, but whatever, it's the truth. If the PRT charges you for it, I think they're fucking stupid.”

  “Thanks,” I croaked, wiping at my eyes with my free hand. Dry, fortunately. “I...thank you. Sorry to be a pain.”

  “You're not a pain,” she replied, narrowing her eyes. “Like, maybe you're annoying when you moralize at me, but hanging out is usually okay. And it's not like I have any other friends around here so...yeah, not a pain, just...you, Lia.”

  “Sorry about that too.” She rolled her eyes and a hollow huff of laughter escaped my lips. “I appreciate it, really I do. Just wish I felt I deserved it, you know?”

  “Like you wouldn't believe,” Amy muttered, then shook her head. “Anyway, should we get down to the infirmary if Flechette is bringing...friends?”

  “Oh, probably.” I hadn't considered that, or thought to ask. “Let me give them a call, get an update?” Amy nodded and I rose from the couch, stepping away and pulling out my phone to give them a call. Despite the churning in my stomach, a smile touched my face.

  I had a friend.

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