Chapter 31

Rebecca closed her eyes and took a calming breath. "I understand your request Director Piggot, and you will receive additional manpower to make up for what you've lost, but the numbers that you ask for are simply not practical for a city the size of Brockton Bay."

"Respectfully ma'am, I believe you are being entirely too optimistic." Director Piggot's voice was weary, her strain clear even over the phone. "The mere existence of Catalyst undermines the PRT's authority; how are we supposed to enforce the law against her? She has shown very little regard for cooperation so far, and teenagers are not known for their sane decision-making."

"Are you suggesting that expanding your Protectorate roster will enable you to better contain any incidents?" Rebecca asked incredulously. "While our Thinkers are still examininng what little footage we have of Catalyst's battle with Leviathan, I have little confidence that two or three more capes would make a significant difference in any battle with her save members of the Triumvirate. To say nothing of the fact that a battle is exactly what we are trying to avoid!" The end of the sentence was nearly a shout, with Rebecca allowing a miniscule amount of the simmering anger within her to bleed through.

"Your orders were very clear on that account ma'am," Piggot replied gruffly. The woman's composure was useful, but irritating. "No, as I said, I'm speaking of our authority, in the eyes of the citizenry. Our law-abiding citizens are used to having powerful and sometimes hostile capes running about the city, but The Protectorate has always been seen, at least, as equals to whatever factions exist. We cannot match Catalyst in power, at least not currently, so I want to, in the eyes of the common citizen, outmatch her with numbers. It won't matter how powerful she is, not if our people are clearly visible and widespread. People will remember the Protectorate and the PRT if that is what they see the most. We must continue to be synonymous with order and law in order to be effective."

"More funding, more manpower, better equipment, Director Piggot I hear this on a daily basis from the other Directors as well." Rebecca didn't want to sound too condescending, but this debate was going nowhere, and she wouldn't authorize anything anyway until she could speak to the rest of Cauldron and discuss their original plan for the Bay.

"None of the other Directors have an S-class threat residing in their city Chief Director."

"A friendly S-class threat, Director Piggot. Arrogant and irreverant, but an ally by all accounts, with her own team of fellow heroes."

"Her own- Ma'am, Catalyst's 'team' consists of two other girls, roughly her age. They are untrained and fairly unseasoned, and I don't want to see what happens when Catalyst gets them killed! Not to be cliche, Chief Director, but do you really not see a threat here? Villains have been created from far less."

"You will be hands-off of Vanguard until we can properly profile Catalyst, Director Piggot." Rebecca's voice was steel. Attempting to poach a member of Catalyst's obviously tight-knit group was Skidmark-level stupidity, no matter how good Piggot's intentions might be.

"...Yes ma'am. Can I assume we will revisit this conversation after the PRT has a better grasp on Catalyst's abilities?" Piggot sounded more resigned than angry. An acceptable outcome.

"And after we see how the larger villain organizations respond to her presence, yes. What else Director?" Rebecca shifted in her office chair, glancing towards the clock beside her. Ten minutes until Cauldron met.

"The last order of business is Panacea. Her mother submitted her to Master/Stranger isolation shortly after she healed Glory Girl."

Rebecca leaned forward in her seat, pressing the phone closer to her ear. "As she should. And? It's been less than a day, are you saying she is showing signs of-?"

"Ah, no ma'am. My concern is more practical. It appears that Brandish gave Panacea an abridged version of events before handing her over to us. It has had a rather... detrimental effect on the girl's psyche. We've seen no sign of lingering mental influence, however the, ah, psychological damage of learning what her clones, did-"

"The point, Director." Rebecca interrupted

"I believe she needs a psychologist who specializes in parahumans." Piggot stated briskly. "The kind that is almost only employed by the Protectorate. Since the PRT ENE does not have the funding to keep one on staff, and you denied my request for-"

"Move on Emily."

"I would like a therapist on loan for a short duration. Six months to a year." Director Piggot finished.

"Amy Dallon is a known parahuman, so concealing her identity would not be an issue for any professional. There is no reason why she would need a specialized therapist when the relevant issue is not her powers, and none would begrudge her the need, after what she has been through, should her attendance leak out somehow." Rebecca's words were carefully chosen. Panacea's full abilities were not known to most, and, even after the most recent disaster, very few people were connecting the dots. Bio-tinkers were almost universally reviled, and alienating the world's premier healer was not high on Rebecca's list of goals.

"Chief Director I've read the reports. I know the power-set that Panacea's clones manifested with. I'm not an imbecile ma'am. I can add two and two. The girl needs a specialized therapist, or she needs to remove herself from my city. I won't have a heavily traumatized bio-tinker healing my personnel! Nor will I allow her the free, barely supervised reign of our hospitals that she has enjoyed in the past. Not without a clean mental bill of health and proper oversight."

Ah.

"I believe we can loan you someone for a three month period, after which we will revisit the situation." Rebecca conceded. "Was there anything else?"

"Thank you. And..." Director Piggot paused, before continuing in an even voice, "my Protectorate leader has inquired after the health of her Wards who were, ah, taken. Is there any progress on reversing the process?"

"We are exploring our options. Please reassure Miss Militia that we are doing everything in our power to restore her Wards to full functionality." Rebecca lied smoothly.

"I see. I'll convey your message." Piggot did not sound reassured, but that was only natural for a woman with her history. "Thank you Chief Director. That concludes my report."

"Goodbye Director Piggot." the phone clicked into its receiver. The rotary dial on the front made it look like a relic, but it was utterly secure, so Rebecca could ignore how silly she felt every time she used the thing.

Fucking tinkers.

Rebecca exhaled forcefully, letting the facade of Chief Director Costa-Brown fade away. A quick flip of a switch, and her office entered a secure lock-down that blocked all known forms of observation save one.

"Door to Cauldron."

A crack in space, a single step, and she is elsewhere.

Rebecca shed her mundanity. Black and grey armor weave pulled snug over unyielding flesh. Thick gloves and long boots, perfectly molded. A steel visor over her head, leaving only her mouth visible.

Alexandria strode through the halls of Cauldron's base, towards their gathering point. She had questions, for David, for Contessa, for Doctor Mother. Questions and plans.

She entered the room, not violently but with purpose, letting the door rebound off the wall and rebound with a slam. She eyed her fellow heroes, her fellow monsters, united in their duty. It appeared that she was the last to arrive.

"Shall we begin?" Doctor Mother asked. "Alexandria, you called this meeting. Are you ready?"

"Yes." Alexandria answered. "My first question is simple: Why is Noelle Meindhart missing her Agent!? "