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Interlude 6: Piggot

"Do you know why I'm here, Emily?"

Director Piggot didn't see the Regional Director often. While Brockton Bay had a higher cape count and crime rate per-capita than average, it was still a small city compared to New York, Washington, Boston, or the other cities that dotted the east coast. That meant she often got less resources, as well as less oversight. So when Armstrong bothered to come down here, it was usually a big deal.

"If I were to hazard a guess, it's the lawsuit?" she said. What else could it have been? It sure as hell was never anything good. He had never granted any of her requests for additional funding.

"Well, it's certainly a factor. This is a performance review."

Piggot was no stranger to those words. Basically Human Resources code for "we're looking for a reason to fire you." She didn't like that style of doublespeak; she preferred to get straight to the point.

"Anything in particular, then?"

"The lawsuit is the biggest issue at the moment, but the Kill Order on Bakuda is another. As it looks right now, we can minimize the damage but we won't be getting out unscathed. Our lawyers can offload more of the blame on to the school board, but this isn't about the money. The public is shaming us already. The news and tabloids love dragging heroes down, and that can't be fixed with cash."

"No chance of us winning outright?" Piggot asked, trying to hide her bitterness. If money wasn't the issue, then they could have at least approved her budget requests for once, and things wouldn't have devolved so badly.

"Our advisors say if that if we appeal, it might still open up the possibility of lawsuits from Shadow Stalker's previous victims, too. We need to demonstrate we're being proactive if we're to win in the court of public opinion. We've got the Youth Guard breathing down our backs and ready to ram through a ton of extra legislation to restrict our Wards program even more, based on the aftermath of this case."

Piggot scowled. Of course. The public was flighty, whimsical, fickle, and easily swayed. Half the time they cared more about what shampoo Alexandria used than which gang just imported two hundred kilos of heroin into the city. And the Youth Guard? Those bored stay-at-home parents who kept parading nice-sounding catchphrases like "but think of the children!" while doing exactly none of it themselves. They demanded the PRT cut Wards' time on base, citing education and safety, but reducing crime was the safest thing in the long-term. Then Legend is seen having lunch with another man and a gay hero's sex life completely takes over the news again. The people judged, took opinions as facts, ignored evidence if it came two hours after the headlines.

And in this situation, she knew the public would either need a massive distraction, or they would want heads to roll. Nobody actually paid attention to the court proceedings, too impatient to wait the months that were needed for a proper trial to run its course. They read the headlines, then made their judgement. A few random people on the internet had spoken their opinion already. It looked like the PRT was going for the second solution.

And her head was on the chopping block.

"I can figure out what's coming already," Piggot said bitterly. "I just want to know. Since when did PR and image matter more than public safety? I took this job because lives needed to be saved."

Armstrong sat down and sighed. "I'm not your enemy, Emily. I know how hard you've worked. Hell, I still remember... the operation, even if I'm not allowed to talk about it. There are very few people in the PRT who have given as much as you have. But you need to understand, in the long run, image is a matter of public safety."

Advertising and public relations wasn't her strong suit, but that wasn't really her role as the director. Glenn Chambers managed most of the PR on the national level, from approving the gift shop items, to designing certain Wards' costumes and names, to their meet-and-greet events, and even had the authority to limit power usage if things weren't image-friendly. Every PRT department had someone like him. They had to make the PRT as friendly and approachable as possible, because every new cape that didn't join the PRT was potentially one ready to join a villain group.

Piggot hated that the PRT prioritized things that way. Too much power devoted to capes. Too many missions would depend entirely on a single person. Too many keystones, too easy for missions to be cancelled for something as simple as a single case of food poisoning on a single member. Capes were unreliable; a dozen well-trained normal soldiers may have been considered weaker but she thought they were far more reliable. One called in sick, another could take their place. She knew this firsthand; three capes had chickened out during a Nilbog mission and left forty of her men to die. She was the only one of two survivors. If the mission had been planned without depending on capes at all, the wouldn't have faced disaster.

"Isn't that what Glenn was for?" Piggot asked dryly. Capes in the PRT had entire teams of PR, media, and stylists dedicated to them, each city had more people for capes than the PRT had nationally. She felt like it was another drag on resources that capes sucked away from regular members.

"Not for something like this. This lawsuit has merit. There have been some serious missteps somewhere along the line, and we may be looking at major policy change. Especially the underage probation program. Things will be made public in the course of the lawsuit; we have to be proactive about it to minimize losses. Can't just lay it on the PR guy alone for this problem."

"Do I get to know who's replacing me, at least?"

"We're thinking of pulling in Tagg, unless you have your own recommendation for us. Final decision will need to be made within two weeks. We expect the handover within a month. We may keep you on as an advisory role at best, as an external contractor. Sorry, Emily. Nothing personal, but the public won't be satisfied unless a few heads roll."

Emily Piggot never liked her job. It caused her to stress every moment of every day, even at home. It put her at odds with people she disliked in order to fight the people she hated. And every step of the way, people came crawling out of the woodwork to tell her she was doing it wrong. It was, without exaggeration, one of the worst jobs in the world.

She did it out of necessity. Not some basic, desperate necessity like money to pay the bills. She had enough for a modest retirement – such was the benefits of hazard pay and a good medical insurance plan. No, she did her job because the city of Brockton Bay needed her. Quite frankly, if she had managed to find someone who could do as good a job with the city as she did, then she would have given up the spot.

People were quick to complain. Criticism was cheap, and it came from all sides. None of them truly understood how close the city was on the brink of total anarchy. The PRT ENE branch was one of the most understaffed and poorly funded branches among all of the PRT. People complained that not enough was being done about crime? Piggot would like to see any of them try to manage as much as she did on the budget she had. Often they were compared to cities like Buffalo or Reno, cities that were slightly bigger than Brockton Bay but with lower crime rates. They never accounted for the fact that Buffalo shared PRT resources with New York, one of the premier PRT branches. Of course they had lower crime rates when Legend himself included the city in his patrols. As for Reno, Piggot would laugh. The entire city was practically run by criminals. Less overt crime, sure, but only because the mafias had taken over the city so fully that people probably mistook the Don for the mayor.

Piggot could at least take credit for maintaining the status quo, which was a lot harder than it sounded. Two major gangs nearly taking over her city, both of which had more firepower than their own Protectorate and PRT, yet neither one actually had. Most people considered it stagnation, but they didn't realize how much of a constant uphill battle it was to merely stay in the same place.

Of course, to actually achieve that, she had to put her Wards on more aggressive patrol schedules. That led to more complaints by the Youth Guard. But what was she to do? Nobody would transfer more experienced Protectorate members from another city to Brockton Bay. The Youth Guard could complain all they wanted about how the Wards were in danger – but they didn't consider the danger if the gangs took over. Did they think letting drug dealers operate close to schools and the Wards' own neighbourhoods was better for them? Of course they didn't.

She knew other directors spoke poorly of the ENE branch behind her back, as well. Of all the people who could criticize her, at least the other directors had some experience with the kind of shit she had to deal with. But none of them knew exactly how bad she had it. Whenever she challenged another director to brainstorm solutions for Brockton Bay, the answers were inevitably the same: Do X, Y, or Z, where X would blow the budget, Y required manpower she didn't have, and Z required a specific cape that wasn't approved for transfer.

As for the more dangerous operations, she had often requested a budget increase. At first she thought it was just the Regional Director Armstrong that had something against her, but when she sent a request directly to the Chief Director explaining the situation, she was again turned down. The denials came straight from the top.

Piggot could make a few guesses why. Brockton Bay was a relatively small city north of New York and Boston. The fact that there was a PRT branch here at all was probably considered a waste of budget. After all, there were larger cities in the country that didn't have their own branch. She suspected that the higher-ups were thinking of shutting this branch down and diverting the budget elsewhere.

An insane decision, in her opinion. She'd written plenty of... strongly worded emails and formal memos, only to be ignored. She suspected that the higher-ups hated her as much as she hated them, but she wasn't going to sacrifice everything for that. It made her job impossibly difficult, but she hadn't been one to shy away from impossible challenges. Like Nilbog.

Nor did she consider her superiors her enemy. She wasn't going to blackmail the PRT itself by complaining to the media to get what she wanted. However, the public was far more fickle, and lately news had not been good. Especially that lawsuit from Eunoia.

Shadow Stalker had created such a nightmare for the PRT, and now the public was in on the story. Tabloids were implying plenty of untrue details, which the public greedily accepted. None of them had realized what a hellion Shadow Stalker had been, and the fact that she had been forced upon her. If it had been up to her, that girl would have gone straight to juvie, instead of being a persistent headache. It was where she belonged, but the PRT was so certain their rehabilitation program would work, and that ENE branch was the best place to do it. Piggot knew a lost cause when she saw one. Hess was a loose cannon, only slightly more sane than Nilbog and only safer due to the fact that her power was weaker. The best thing that idiot had achieved in her life was get herself killed, not that Piggot would have ever said that out loud.

Combined with her handling of Bakuda, the recent escape of all significant cape captures, the embarrassing fundraiser, and especially the lawsuit, the media was quick to paint her as an incompetent director. People were calling for her resignation. As if anyone else could have done better.

At least they would allow her to choose the next ENE Director – the next lamb to the slaughter, as it were. She knew very few would actually be able to handle this city. As much as she would have relished the thought of yelling "I told you so!" when her successor inevitably failed, she did, in fact, want the city to thrive and the gangs eliminated. That meant she had the work of figuring out who was the most competent person for the job in a very short time.

Piggot looked at several file folders laid out in front of her. The options were basically between allowing the PRT to assign an existing director – Tagg – to transfer in, or Piggot could recommend a promotion from within the ENE branch. The regional director an experienced director to take over, but it could easily be argued that an internal promotion meant a smoother transition and an employee who already understood the nuances and specifics of Brockton Bay itself.

James Tagg may have been an experienced director coming from another branch, but Emily knew he would be an absolute failure in Brockton Bay. The man had a history of working his branch with military-like discipline and rigidity, which Emily could respect. After all, it was what she was used to as a field trooper in the early days of the PRT. But even she recognized that simply didn't work. Capes were unstable, competitive, egotistical, and difficult to control. Even the ones who wanted to be heroes.

It only worked in a place where the gangs were already well-contained. Where there was adequate funding, and the PRT alone, without Protectorate support, could handle the local villain scene. Where one or two new triggers joining a gang would easily end up in PRT custody within a week. Otherwise, rigidity and lack of individuality that the military-esque style would simply drive capes away. In Brockton Bay, both the ABB and Empire were capable of offering the money and freedom to compete against the PRT. Children like Kid Win, or even Clockblocker? Or even former villains like Assault? They would hate Tagg. There was always the chance that, under him, they would quit the Wards and be lured to the Empire or possibly Coil.

Piggot understood the flexibility that was required to work with capes like them. Capes needed to be put under control, but if you squeeze too tight they would simply slip out of your hands like a bar of soap. She had to be strict, but did her best to earn their respect. Tagg would merely demand their respect because of his title. He would be a disaster. He needed to stay in his own damn city, not transfer here.

Then there was Andrew Lorenzo. Piggot's personal favourite. A man who was dedicated, hard-working, and had the respect of his subordinates. Unfortunately, he was lacking in the one important aspect: experience. If she had more time, she would have given him more training, pushed him into more difficult leadership roles, and given him more time to grow. She was certain he would have grown into that role perfectly. Right now, he was probably underqualified to be a director. One day, perhaps, but she needed to choose someone to promote now.

Alana Wong was one recommended to her by Thomas Calvert. The man himself had declined the position, even though he was probably the most qualified. On paper, she met all the requirements. That is, there was nothing she could complain about. The woman was a Brockton native, so Piggot could understand that she had a personal stake in bettering the city. Piggot respected that. At the same time, Wong had done nothing to truly stand out. Perhaps she wasn't being fair, but she felt like Wong just didn't seem like a leader at all. She certainly did everything she she was assigned to quite well, even before joining the PRT. Good grades. Good behaviour. Good punctuality. Good performance.

But she was a follower. A good subordinate. Assign her something, she did it quickly and effectively, without complaints. An excellent employee, in other words. But she wasn't a go-getter. She didn't have much initiative. In short, Piggot didn't know how she would do at the top, giving orders instead of taking them.

In addition, the recommendation by Calvert gave her doubts. It wasn't anything she could put into words, nor something she could mention in writing. But Calvert just gave her the shivers. He had a history with her. He was the only other survivor of the Nilbog incident. She hadn't seen what had happened on his end, but he had gotten out unscathed, unlike her. Some suspected foul play – not just her. But there hadn't been enough evidence to convict. He continued within the PRT, and had been an effective field commander. Much better results than others, which led to quicker promotions. He was just... odd, in a way she couldn't put into words. But he was more than competent. His plans and tactics always seemed to work out.

She suspected that Calvert had some plan for Wong. Or maybe she owed him something, and she would provide him a better position or transfer after she became director. But there was absolutely no evidence that was the case, much less anything illicit.

Maybe Piggot was being unfair. Maybe it was just jealousy, that the man handily survived the same horror that left her disfigured. She could never write "could not accept recommendation due to gut feeling." She would never be so unprofessional. She would have to be objective, if Brockton Bay were to actually have its problems fixed.

While mulling her options, she heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," she said.

A tall, thin man walked in. "Director."

"Calvert. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He handed over another file. "I've been doing a little thinking. I would like to submit my own application for your position," he said.

"What made you change your mind?" she asked.

"You know the old saying. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. For what it's worth, I don't think you were treated fairly. But we have to work with the hand we're dealt, don't we? And I don't believe the other candidates can do quite as well for the city as I could," Calvert answered smoothly.

"So are you withdrawing your recommendation for Wong?" she asked.

"Oh, certainly not. Everyone deserves a fair shake," he said.

"I'll take it under consideration," she said. Almost every doubt she had about Wong was now shifted over to Calvert himself. The man may have been some kind of genius, but a borderline sociopathic one. He acted like he was better than everyone else – and, unfortunately, had the results to back it up. It gave a person the kind of ego that could easily lead to their downfall. But so far, his track record was too good to objectively turn down.

One last hurrah. Piggot decided that, if she were to go out, she would at least go out on a high note. Her career would not end quietly. She had given so much of her life to keeping those damn capes under control.

It would serve quite well as one final test of how well her potential replacements would fare. Hell, if any of them did particularly well, it would help give more weight to her recommendation. Just because the upper management was throwing her under the bus didn't mean she didn't still command some respect.

A coordinated strike against one of the parahuman gangs. It took week of planning with the best info they had – a bit more rushed than usual, but she didn't have as much time. They targeted the Merchants, looking for major drug caches, meth labs, and weapon stockpiles. Striking swiftly enough meant they could potentially eliminate this ugly pustule from the city once and for all.

And then the Endbringer happened. Piggot wouldn't let a damn Endbringer ruin her final chance at making a difference in the city. One that wasn't even happening on the same continent, no less. She was going to put one last, big dent on crime, before she left, capes or no capes. It didn't bother her at all, in fact – capes weren't dependable. Too egotistical, too large an egg in one basket, and none of them had gone through boot camp. She would forge ahead with her more dependable employees; the PRT troops.

Many of the Protectorate capes volunteered for the Endbringer battle, as well as several villains and rogues. This made the Endbringer Truce tricky to navigate. One caveat, of course, was that non-cape criminal operations were still subject to the full force of the law. The regular police departments didn't stand down during Endbringer attacks, after all.

Attacking the Empire's holdings could be a PR risk, since the Empire had a few capes volunteering against the Endbringer. It often gained them some semblance of respect. The ABB was simply too dangerous without the full force of the Protectorate. Lung would have no problems retaliating, as he considered every part of ABB territory his personal territory. The Merchants may have been mostly drug-addled lunatics, that never volunteered for the Endbringers, and that made their holdings fair game.

Drugged-up lowlives they may be, they were smart enough to honor the Truce. That was actually a good thing, to Piggot. She would rather have both her and their capes standing down, rather than both attacking each other. As long as she didn't attempt to target Squealer, Skidmark, Mush, or Trainwreck, it was generally acceptable.

That meant investigation, and acting quickly. It would be too easy for the public to lay even more blame on her if she accidentally stumbled upon one of the Merchant capes. It would be a lose-lose situation – fight and arrest them, and she broke the Endbringer Truce. Back out and let them go, it was a horrible display of incompetence. If they let the information sit for too long, it would become useless. The Merchants were like parasites in more ways than one; they used up one location, then abandoned them just as quickly. They needed to find the Merchant storehouses where their capes weren't.

It changed the mission to a BBPD operation with PRT support, instead of the other way around. And no Protectorate support. The mission parameters were reviewed. The targets were set. All the team leaders would continue as planned with only minor modifications. All the PRT troops had trained well in situations without cape support while dealing with capes. If any of the Merchant capes retaliated, they would still be equipped to handle them, or retreat safely.

With that in mind, she gave orders to go ahead.

Piggot reviewed the after-action reports. She sighed. Unfortunately, Lorenzo hadn't stepped up when it mattered. It was a rather poor showing. She would chalk it up to bad luck, but that didn't make for convincing reports.

Wong had done just fine, all things considered. Reliable and effective. But when it had come to the planning stages, especially when everything needed to be altered to account for the Endbringer Truce, Wong had been short on suggestions. Lorenzo and Calvert had been much more proactive in that aspect.

Everyone had faltered when the Merchants had more weaponry on hand than expected. The location that Lorenzo took on had something built by Squealer, though the cape herself hadn't been there. He didn't abort the mission fast enough, and had to rely on Calvert's quick thinking to get the job done.

Although Piggot was looking for reasons to turn down Calvert, she just couldn't do it. A gut feeling wasn't good enough. When it came right down to it, Calvert had simply been more effective. He had the respect of those working under him, had effective plans, showed confidence and decisiveness, even under fire. Calvert had all the makings of a good director, though. Piggot knew that she wouldn't be able to recommend anyone but him without appearing biased. Moreover, as uneasy as she was about him, he was still a better candidate than Tagg.

Decision made, she sent off her recommendation. At the very least, the newspapers would be able to write about a successful arrest of over a dozen Merchants, three drug labs, over five million dollars in hard drugs, thousands more in illegal weapons, and one Tinkertech weapon.

Author's Notes:

I originally had all this written from a different perspective, but I just felt like it didn't work as well and didn't show anything we didn't already know. So I basically ended up deleting the whole thing and rewriting it from scratch.

On an entirely different note, there's something that bothers me (which I might not end up addressing in my story, so might as well talk about it here). Cauldron, apparently, was using Brockton Bay as an experiment on Parahuman Feudalism. But... that's just terrible experiment design. Even if there's a parahuman leader/ruler over Brockton Bay, it's still a city inside the USA, subject to USA law and control. Not to mention putting a PRT branch in there. Regardless of whether or not the "parahuman feudalism" worked or failed, it only works or fails if the state and federal laws allow it. And by having a PRT/Protectorate branch in the city, they are directly meddling with the results. Any data from this experiment is basically useless. If they wanted that kind of experiment, they should have done it in a lawless land, or another parallel dimension, where the parahuman ruler IS the highest law of the land. Otherwise the whole thing's invalid.

In any case I think most of fanon agrees that Cauldron just fucked themselves over on many, many levels