According to standard operating procedure, the Parahuman Response Team kept a standing, twenty-four-hour workforce. This was intended to be done in shifts, with specific irreplaceable staff members, such as the director or deputy director, letting their positions be filled with on-staff division heads, such as the Chief Medical Officer, or the Commander of the Response Teams. In the case of a B-class threat or higher, the director would be notified and brought back to base with all due speed.
Reality, unsurprisingly, doesn't always work out that way, especially for a branch that is as underfunded and understaffed as the PRT ENE. More often than not, Director Piggot and many other members of this branch stay far longer at their stations than is recommended. The city of Brockton Bay and its surroundings were just too busy. Half the villain capes in the city were classified as B-class threats on their own, with several groups and individuals being A-class or higher. Piggot herself was sure that the only reason she managed to get any sleep at all was because the Parahuman gang members themselves liked to enjoy a full night's sleep.
The fact that Director Piggot and a significant portion of her understaffed and underfunded subordinates so often burned the midnight oil made late-night meetings common. They ranged from simple, if not frustrating, conversations about budget concerns to much larger briefings between the Protectorate and the PRT. These briefings were often the longest, as the sheer amount that needed to be discussed would usually drag the meeting even later.
It did not help that Armsmaster used every single one as an opportunity to ask for a larger tinkering budget or some other tinkering toy or concession.
"Once again, Armsmaster, I am denying your request to expand your lab into the room next door," Director Piggot said, the rigid, power armor clad hero having finished his request. "Not only is the adjacent room being used, but your lab has already subsumed the office on the other side. Space on the Rig is finite, and you already have plenty of room."
It was difficult to gauge Armsmaster's reaction to the denial since not only was he normally inexpressive, but his face was mostly covered by his armor. Only his mouth and chin were exposed, and the majority of that was covered by his beard.
"Very well." He responded simply, the hundreds of micro servos in his armor whispering out the faintest sounds as he shifted back in his chair.
He shuffled his papers, clearly not intending to say anything else. Miss Militia, studiously taking notes sitting next to her Protectorate leader, wrote down something on her pad. Beside her, Assault leaned back in his chair, looking at the ceiling. Everyone present was studiously ignoring the fact that he was definitely asleep, as no one wanted to deal with his shenanigans during an already very late meeting. He wouldn't be there at all if he hadn't been assigned as a liaison to one of the Bay's newest capes.
If he started to snore, Director Piggot might order Miss Militia to shoot him.
With Armsmaster seemingly satisfied with her response, Director Piggot closed and pushed a file, the disturbingly thick proposal that Armsmaster had submitted, to the side before opening another. She then looked up to one of the other people at the meeting, a man in a lab coat with a thick mustache and perfectly trimmed goatee.
"Dr Allens, if you could?"
"Ah, yes. Well, as requested, we rushed the analysis of the samples from Arcanum's trees. There were quite a few due to the variety of trees planted, but we completed the process earlier this afternoon," He explained. "As procedure dictates, I immediately contacted you, Director, to confirm there were no dangers detected in our analysis."
The large, stern woman nodded, turning the page of the report before looking back to the scientist. Those who knew her, and cared enough to pay attention, could see that while she remained outwardly calm, there was an underlying tension that seemed to twist and turn inside her. It was as if she had a white-knuckle grip on her internal monologue and emotions and was only barely winning.
"If you could give us a brief overview of your findings…"
"Of course. We analyzed samples of bark, root, leaf, wood, and fruit from each of the trees grown alongside the homeless community, as well as several air samples," He explained. "This was difficult, as these samples withered away within an hour of being taken. None of the samples showed any signs of anomalous activity. The fruits were thoroughly sterile as well. As far as we could tell, none of the trees we found could reproduce, nor could they be grafted."
"What about the fruits themselves?" Piggot asked pointedly. "Any effects from consumption?"
"None that we could discern," he explained. "Beyond being thoroughly sterile, they act and decompose in a way identical to a normal fruit of the same kind."
"That matches with what he said to me," Miss Militia added, looking up from her notes. "That he has a striker ability to manipulate and control plants, not… not a biotinker ability to directly change them."
The tension inside Director Piggot seemed to uncoil a single notch, the woman still wrestling with herself, her paranoia.
"For what it matters, his report of the tree's withering and dying without him certainly seems true as well," Miss Militia continued. "The two squads enforcing the quarantine reported that every tree is completely dead."
"If that is the case, then he won't care if we cut them down," Armsmaster pointed out. "If nothing else than to eliminate the need to designate two squads to the site."
"... I'll have a clean-up team sent out tomorrow afternoon," Piggot said, giving Armsmaster a nod.
"What about the second orchard?" Armsmaster asked.
For a long moment, Director Piggot was silent. She weighed the options, keeping her thoughts as straight and controlled as she could. It was difficult, as her first instinct was to order Arcanum to be brought in and studied to absolutely confirm she didn't have a plant-based Nilbong on her hands. But she couldn't do that without proof that something was wrong, and according to Dr Allen, there wasn't. She was already on thin ice for
"Considering what tests Dr. Allens' team has done, and their results… We will hold off from intervening," Director Piggot responded. "We are unlikely to ever recruit Arcanum after our original actions, but alienating him further is unwise."
"Ma'am, with all due respect, are you sure that is the correct position to take?" Armsmaster asks, a hint of incredulousness leaking into his usual dull, monotone voice. "His engagement with the homeless community is a textbook example of gathering a power base."
"It's also a textbook example of someone wanting to help," Assault said, catching everyone but Director Piggot off guard. "Arcanum has shown every sign of being a reasonable, genuinely heroic Cape."
"He killed Alabaster-"
"That was bad luck," Assault said, shaking his head. "And a clear sign of him coming to the defense of others."
That particular investigation had revealed some interesting information. Apparently, there had been several instances similar to this, where a parahumans ability is hampered or damaged by destroying the Corona Pollentia. This is difficult to observe in anyone other than regenerators, as any damage to the Corona Pollentia would also significantly damage the brain enough to kill a normal person, even a normal cape.
As far as PRT records showed, this phenomenon had only happened a few times. Once, when a civilian killed a cape defending their family, and the rest by various accident.
"The Empire members we found on the scene said he gave no warning, no chance for them to surrender," Armsmaster pointed out with a frown. "And as Panacea still refuses to heal Empire members, they remain almost completely deaf and partially blind."
"While I agree the willingness to default to violence is worrying, given the circumstances, it is… understandable," Director Piggot said before diverting the conversation. "I am mostly worried about the plant constructs he has created."`
"He said that we should consider them tinker constructs," Miss Militia pointed out. "I didn't say anything at the time, but if they are tinker constructs that he is allowing civilians to interact with and control…"
"Then they must undergo a full review by the PRT," Director Piggot finished with a nod. "Good. Assault, I want you to reach out and talk to him about the process. Warn him that this is already an allowance. By all means, we should have confiscated all of them the second we learned about them."
Assault nodded, though he didn't exactly look thrilled about the whole idea. Not only did he not want to be the bearer of bad news, but he knew from his time with Armsmaster and Kid Win, as well as a few other tinkers, that they frequently did not like having their toys taken away.
"That said…" Director Piggot continued. "I am sticking by my statement that the second orchard will stand. That, as well as my previous instructions for handling Arcanum. The second orchard will be left alone, and Arcanum is to be treated positively, as a hero."
Armmaster seemed unhappy with her statement, but it soon disappeared under his usual dour look. Assault, however, leaned forward, a frown on his face.
"Now that we've finally reached the good part of this meeting, has there been any news?"
Piggot scowled and closed the file on Dr. Allens' tests and procedures, pushing it to the side. This time, however, she did not reach for a new file. For weeks now, the PRT had been investigating the origin of the fake orders that Assault received from the Console during his first meeting with Arcanum. They had been given to the Console operator in the form of written instructions, signed and stamped with Director Piggots signature.
Unknown to the Assault and Console operator at the time, the orders were a forgery, and that Director Piggot wasn't even aware the conversation was happening, as she was undergoing her daily dialysis treatment.
Of course, the problem was discovered almost immediately after it happened. Director Piggot, while ordering a full investigation, had also decided to take advantage of the situation to find out more about Arcanum, and to try and discover where and why the fake orders were given.
Neither of which had gone very well.
"The investigation has run into a dead end," she admitted. "Agent Sannis, who delivered the orders, is still missing. We are investigating them but have so far found nothing. Until we do find something, we have nothing else to go on. I am downsizing the investigation, though it will remain active for now."
Assault cursed under his breath, and Director Piggot found herself wishing she could curse as well. The idea that someone, most likely one of the gangs in the Bay, had infiltrated them enough to pass off fake orders was as infuriating as it was worrying. Several changes had already been made to the security. If there was a silver lining to this whole debacle, it was that eleven gang plants had already been found and removed.
"I still think we should admit that something happened," Assault said, leaning back in his chair, tipping it back on two legs. "I think it would go a long way to getting him to trust us. He reacted well to me opening up about what was going on."
"Procedure is to keep things internal until the investigation is complete, and it is that way for a reason," Director Piggot reminded him, giving him a harsh look that he handily ignored. "The only reason you weren't in more trouble for 'opening up' is because you had the common sense to keep the actual investigation out."
Assault very specifically did not mention his second conversation with Arcanum, the one that would likely get him in a lot of trouble. He had mentioned that
something was going on behind the scenes, which was enough for someone smart to figure out that maybe something was going on that was out of the PRT's control. The fact that he even hinted at an ongoing internal investigation would likely get him into more trouble than he had ever been since he joined the Protectorate.
"While we are on the topic of Arcanum, given what we have learned, it's time to revisit his power rating," Piggot said, opening up her notebook and tapping it with a pen. "I believe it is time to officially label him a Trump as he continues to discover new uses for the power source he has described. We can revisit this status later, either by removing or lowering the number, should he stop discovering new methods. I suggest a Trump rating of four."
"I agree," Armsmaster said with a nod. "I suggest we add Tinker for his plant construct creations, but before testing their capabilities, assigning a number is impossible."
"The bipedal constructs followed his orders, that means a Master rating," Miss Militia pointed out. "As did the horse construct."
"Considering some of the footage we are seeing online of him running, both on foot and on his horse, he definitely deserves a Mover rating of three at least," Assault pointed out.
"Mover three, Trump four, while Tinker and Master levels will be determined later," Piggot said, marking down something on her own notepad. "His healing ability is hard to number since healing abilities don't quite fall on the scale, but the plant ability would rate a two according to witness reports."
"I believe we should increase his Brute rating," Armsmaster said stoically. "Not only have we confirmed that he is bulletproof, but we failed to take into account his ability to heal. I believe Brute four is more appropriate."
"And his blaster rating should be bumped up, too," Assault added begrudgingly. "During the testing, it took multiple seconds of chanting for him to use his largest lighting attack. According to the police response, he did not need to chant to use the same attack that killed Alabaster, which by all rights was more powerful."
"Blaster five." Director Piggot said, writing it down with a frown. "That means Arcanum is a Blaster five, Trump four, Mover three, Striker two, with a yet-to-be-rated Master/Tinker combo."
"Jeeze…. Talk about jack of all trades," Assault said. "I'm glad he is a hero, he would be a pain to fight, no way to predict what he might throw at you."
"There should be a note of that in his file," Miss Militia pointed out. "Having a Trump level warns about it a little, but-"
Before she could finish, the door to the meeting room burst open, and an agent stepped in. He quickly stood at attention, snapping off a salute.
"What is it?" Piggot barked. "This is supposed to be a secure meeting!"
"I know, ma'am, but this is an emergency," The agent explained with a wince. "According to incoming reports from Brockton Bay Central Hospital… Panacea has been injured. She is currently in the hospital for treatment. According to what we know, she arrived with a broken arm and a cracked skull. "
For a moment, the room was quiet from the shock of the sudden bad news.
"Fuck, alright. Assault, Miss Militia, I want you on the scene ASAP. Your primary mission is to keep everything from spiraling out of control," Director Piggot ordered. "Armsmaster, I want you on patrol, making noise. Make sure people know that we are around."
"Should I call-" Assault started, only for Piggot to cut him off.
"No, not yet. Let the family know you have his number and offer to call for them," She responded. "This is already going to be a clusterfuck. We don't need to make it any worse by inviting extra people."
"He works with the hospital," Assault pointed out. "He's probably gonna show up anyway."
"Then it's out of our hands," She responded. "and more importantly, into someone else's. Now, let's move people!"
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