“Finally, we have reports that the Fallen clans are on the move in Brockton Bay,” Director Tagg said from behind his desk. “I think it goes without saying that we can't let them get a foothold here.”

  “A truce?” Miss Militia asked, cocking her head. There had been enough threats lately to warrant them, what was one more? “We can contact the Undersiders and--”

  “No,” Tagg snapped, shooting her a glare. “Every time the PRT has entered a ceasefire with the local gangs, they've made gains and we've lost badly. I haven't forgotten about how quickly you got over them killing the last man in this chair.”

  “We had reliable intelligence that Thomas Calvert and Coil were the same person,” she countered, knitting her brows. “Based on that, I felt their killing of another dangerous villain wasn't a good enough reason to refuse their help. Despite their...unruly behaviour during the fight, I stand by that decision.”

  “Of course,” he replied in the least civil tone, falling short of disrespectful. “I trust you don't have any issue with that?”

  “I believe it's foolish to turn down aid in tackling more dangerous threats,” she said evenly. “I don't want to see the Undersiders prosper anymore than you do, and I am quite aware of the threat they pose. But tackling the Teeth, the Fallen, what's left of the Empire, on top of the Undersiders and their allies... We don't have the people, and we won't for some time. Every branch is suffering from the fallout of this last incident.”

  “An incident sparked by the Protectorate having clandestine control over the PRT.” The brief silence was thick with tension. Tagg sighed and shook his head. “We both stuck around because we know this is the only way to make things work. I understand you're limited on personnel, but the PRT's been hemorrhaging men too. I'm not saying we do more than hit one threat at a time, but I'm not giving those warlords another inch in this god damned city.”

  “Understood sir. Anything else?”

  “The Ward, Amaranth was it?” He scratched at days worth of stubble on his cheek. “Any idea when she'll be back to duty status? I don't want to revoke a therapy order, but as you said: we don't have the people.” Miss Militia sighed.

  “I'll speak with Doctor Yamada,” she replied. “But sir, if you were to revoke that order, I don't believe the Youth Guard would stay quiet.” He stared at her for a moment, narrowing his eyes.

  “I agree, but do speak to Yamada and get a progress reports?” Miss Militia nodded, then left the director's office.

  She was going to need a long time at the range when she had time to spare. Even without the need to sleep, there was simply too much for one women to do. She had help, but it was limited. Assault was gone, Battery had told him that she got her powers from Cauldron and he just...left. Before that, Gallant had resigned, Weld had gone and formed his Irregulars; at least the latter was still willing to cooperate in some ways.

  And then there was the damned city. More damage, more casualties, more ground lost. It was a good thing Miss Militia didn't need to sleep, because she couldn't afford it anymore. Things had been relatively quiet in the three days since Echidna. Even today's briefing, though dire, was an improvement over last week. The Fallen were only a problem because their capes were difficult to track down, otherwise they were relatively disorganized, at least compared to the gangs she'd dealt with for a decade.

  The Teeth were a more pressing issue, at least for Miss Militia. They'd been decimated their last visit to the city, but almost certainly had time to regroup. She hadn't heard anything about Butcher entering the city, but the moment they did she'd drop all pretense of cooperating with Tagg and do what it took to drive them off.

  She hated that it had come to this, going outside the system, double-talk, plots and schemes. She hated that she was taking part that much more. Desperate times...and they didn't seem to be ending soon. Miss Militia hit the button for the infirmary, her power morphing into a set of brass knuckles, a hatchet, then finally settled on a push-dagger; not too different from the one Gallant confiscated from Amaranth. Fitting...

  The doors slid open and she walked quickly through the infirmary, nodding at the nurses on duty. They didn't have much to do, with Pan-- Amy healing again. Miss Militia sighed and shook her head as she knocked on Jessica's door. So many changes these days, it was growing difficult to keep track of them all.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Ah, Miss Militia, it's good to see you,” Jessica greeted her with a smile. “Please, come in. Pardon the mess, some...new research.” She nodded and stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. Once they were alone, she pulled down her mask.

  “Thank you Jessica, I won't be long.” Her eyes roamed the space, eyeing the file boxes stacked all over. “Research into what?”

  “Parahuman phenomonology.” Hannah blinked.

  “I see.” A beat. “I'm sorry, I just stopped by to ask about Amaranth. How is she?” The doctor's smile twitched.

  “Have a seat,” Jessica replied, taking her own in at her desk. She was a little confused, but took a seat on an armchair. “Now you understand, or rather your boss who's asking understands, that I cannot discuss what we speak about in here?”

  “Nothing so specific, Jessica,” Hannah replied, shaking her head. “And though the director wants an update...I would like to know how she's doing as well.”

  “If you're asking 'will she return to duty soon', I can only offer hopes,” she said with a sigh. “But she has been willing to work with me, and I am optimistic.”

  “I'm glad to hear,” she said, her shoulders relaxing a little. “There's a lot of work to be done, and not enough hands to do it.”

  “Believe me, Amaranth is doing a great deal of work,” Jessica said, her eyes narrowing a fraction. “Two-hour sessions, every other day, for two weeks; my patients in the asylum don't get that much attention. I'd rather give her at least three days between sessions, but I haven't been given the time, and neither has she.” She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Hannah, you spoke with me once a long time ago, about your trigger event.”

  “I did,” Hannah said, suppressing a shiver. “Why bring that up?”

  “Because as you said then, the only way to come to terms with it is time.” Jessica met her eyes, her gaze steely. “Give her that time, it's something she desperately needs right now.”

  “I see.” She crossed her arms, eyes roaming the boxes. “I'll pass that on. I...thank you Jessica, I know it's just your job, but I appreciate you helping the Wards.”

  “Of course Hannah,” she replied, smiling. “I appreciate your trust.”

  “You've more than earned it,” Hannah said, standing and donning her mask again. “The next time you meet, would you tell her I hope she gets better?”

  “I'll tell her,” she promised. “Take care of yourself.”

  With a nod, Miss Militia headed out. More to do, more meetings, more people. She may not need to sleep, but she could certainly feel tired, and she had been feeling that more and more these days. Still, she had a duty to fulfill, rest could wait. She hit the elevator button and made her way down to the Ward's quarters.

  “Ma'am,” Flechette greeted her as she came down. “Something the matter?”

  “Not at all,” she replied easily, it was true enough for now. “Just need to speak to Clockblocker, if he's still here.”

  “Miss Militia?” Dennis stumbled out of his room in a set of pyjamas. “What's up?”

  “A briefing, I'll make it short though.” She beckoned and he followed her out of the common area to a quiet corner of the room. “You're sleeping here now?”

  “The city the way it is?” He shook his head. “Rather be here when I'm needed instead of across town, even if the bed sucks.”

  “I understand,” she replied. “Is your family alright?”

  “Scared,” he said, shrugging. “But we all are, no surprises there. Don't think they want me in the Wards anymore but...” He sighed. “I can't abandon the team, you know? Not when we've lost two good captains for bad reasons.”

  “That's brave of you,” Miss Militia said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You'll be an excellent leader Dennis.”

  “Hope they think so.” He sighed. “You said a briefing?”

  “A short one,” she said. “The Fallen and the Teeth are moving into the city. We won't be agreeing to a truce with the locals, this time.”

  “Good,” Dennis snapped. “Getting tired of them messing with us when we're trying to help people.”

  “Defensive deployments though,” she continued. “We'll meet later, when you're back on duty, and determine a new patrol schedule. Maybe look and see if there are any Wards from the teams still here, any who would be willing to join?”

  “Yeah I'll ask them,” he replied, sounding subdued. “Dunno how many of them will want to move here though.” He looked up, at the murals overhead. “How's Amaranth?”

  “She may be off duty for the whole of her allotted two weeks,” she said.

  “Dammit,” Dennis swore, running his fingers through his hair. “Miss Militia...are we going to win this?”

  “What do you mean?” Miss Militia asked, cocking her head.

  “I mean...” His shoulders slumped. “Gallant, Assault, Weld...not to mention every not from Brockton Bay who's leaving. We're losing people while we're losing ground. We talked about the First World War in history this year, you know? Attritional warfare, ten-thousand men for a yard of land. It's...maybe that's dramatic, but it sure doesn't feel like it.” She sighed.

  “I'm sorry Dennis,” she said softly. “You've been put in a difficult position. I know it may not seem like it, but I do believe the worst is over.”

  “Thanks ma'am,” he said quietly. “I just wish I felt like it wasn't still coming.”

  She patted his shoulder and let him go back to his room. She couldn't help recalling her conversation with Jessica not long before Echidna attacked. It was hard for Hannah to fault the Wards for losing faith, when hers was being tested every waking second. She believed in the Protectorate, the PRT, the Wards and their collective mission...but what costs could she stomach to continue upholding it? She wouldn't know that line until she came across it.

  Hannah's phone buzzed in her pocket as she entered the elevator and she sighed; it was a very good thing indeed she didn't need to sleep.