Protectorate ENE Headquarters, Brockton Bay

  Emily Piggot nodded to the last of the Protectorate members entering the conference room, motioning for them to shut the door.

  "Good morning, everyone; take a seat. Oh, Armsmaster, I just approved the Ward's patrol route changes you recommended."

  "Thank you, Director; I will let Triumph know this afternoon," he replied, placing his tablet on the table before turning on the screen on the far wall.

  "Been pretty quiet the last couple of nights," Miss Militia said before taking a seat. "Even with school starting."

  "I think everyone's still in shock about the development in the Bay. If you had told me a year ago, no six months ago, that the wrecks were going to be removed, I would have told them they were crazy."

  Assault nodded at his wife's comment. "It's going to bring a lot of money into this city, even beyond the new jobs opening here. The Bay used to get all the overflow from Boston and New York."

  "And I just read that Maynard Shipping is supposed to make an announcement later in the week, which the financial analysts predict they will be re-opening their offices," Dauntless said then asked. "So, who's paying for it all? Does anyone know?"

  "According to the news, a couple of initial Angel investors, money that had been set aside for such an occurrence, and municipal bonds. However, the Governor just released funds from both Federal and State resources to the city for coastal clean-up due to Levithan and other disasters." Velocity grinned. "Not all that surprising. It's going to bring millions more dollars into the state, and it's an election year. Oh, and let us not forget lots of money from the collection of fines."

  "So, Armsmaster, any thoughts on how the various groups have or will react to this news?" Piggot asked.

  "From what we can tell, Kaiser's push into the Merchant territory has ceased. Although I imagine it will only be temporary."

  "Maybe not; a little bird told me that several three-letter government agencies are now interested in the ongoings of our little city," Assault added.

  Velocity chuckled. "Interesting times."

  Armsmaster frowned at the interruption, then said, "Faultline appears to be out of state, and the Merchant's activities haven't changed much since the announcement. The BBPD, however, continued their nightly raids on the drug houses on Congress Street, which I added to the morning report."

  "I spent most of the night on-call expecting someone to show up. So, where's Skidmark? He can't be happy," Dauntless asked.

  "According to those arrested, he and Squealer are out of town. Analysts believe the E88 attacks in the last few weeks proved more damaging than first thought. The New York PRT office reported an unconfirmed sighting of the two of them in Little Odessa this morning."

  Director Piggot looked over at her laptop. "I saw the report as well. It was mentioned that Skidmark met with various arms dealers. So, we should expect an escalation of violence once they return."

  Battery asked, "What about Lung? There hasn't been much from him recently."

  Armsmaster opened his mouth, then closed it. "I don't know. The Azn Bad Boys continue to monitor and defend their territory, but internally they have been quiet. Analysts don't quite understand."

  "That can't be a bad thing, right?" Dauntless asked.

  "Or they could be planning something big, maybe an attack on the E88," Battery said.

  Miss Militia shook her head. "We also thought that, but all signs point to quite the opposite. The entire winter, they were quite active, aggressively consolidating power. Still, everyone here must have noticed that things have suddenly settled down since the start of the summer."

  "Maybe around the same time Yūdachi appeared?"

  The military-themed cape looked surprised and then turned towards Armsmaster, who looked thoughtfully at his tablet. "We do see a drastic downturn in incidents in those following weeks. You believe there is a correlation between the two."

  Assault shrugged. "Don't know, but these shipgirls became active about then. Although I haven't heard anything else about the Yūdachi."

  "Or the Coasties aren't reporting it," Velocity said with a grin. "And now we have them running active patrols right off the coast,"

  Director Piggot looked through the windows that overlooked the Bay. "Continue to monitor the situation. The analysts also seemed to have dropped the ball on the whole Saint Margaret situation."

  The screen lit up, and two images suddenly appeared, one of a young woman wearing a Royal Navy nurse uniform, the second an Austin K2/Y Ambulance, which was commonly used by the Commonwealth during World War Two.

  "However, that's a good segway to the next topic. So, let's continue our conversation on the new Parahuman Newfoundland. Captain Merrick, you had some insight on what occurred at Brockton Bay Hospital last Friday?"

  "Yes, Ma'am," the PRT officer who had been quietly sitting in the back said. "As I mentioned a few days ago, my cousin Catlyn works in Pediatrics. According to her, Newfoundland discovered Doctor Americk watching a Red Sox game in his office. Apparently, he's been leaving Panacea to do all the work and just signs off on anything he needs to sign. She then took him to task, very professional-like, according to a couple of ex-army nurses. It seems the good Doctor was a troublesome transfer from Boston. However, several other emergency room doctors have been doing something similar."

  The Director just shook her head. "Any confirmation Armsmaster that Newfoundland actually has powers other than the ownership of a vehicle which might or might not be tinker-tech."

  "Not conclusively, but according to witnesses, the two firefighters did have a burning ceiling fall on top of them. Although both managed to walk under their own power to the ambulance."

  "Did they ever discover what happened to the ones dispatched before Newfoundland volunteered her services?

  "One ambulance was stolen while the drivers were getting dinner, the second stuck in the middle of an altercation between the E88 and the Merchants."

  "Only in this town." Sitting back in her chair, Piggot rubbed her eyes. "So, can we at least confirm she's a shipgirl?"

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Everyone looked at the grainy black and white photo of a British Royal Mail Ship that now appeared on the screen.

  Armsmaster pulled something up on his pad. "She has not claimed to be one. I am also having even more problems rating the other two with as little we have on them. However, I did find information on a British hospital ship with the same name. HMHS Newfoundland was sunk in 1943 near Salerno, Italy, by the Luftwaffe even though she was bearing standard Red Cross markings as a hospital ship at the time."

  "Newfoundland must be thrilled to find that Brockton Bay has its own Nazis." Dauntless chuckled.

  "No more than the rest of us," Miss Militia murmured. "None of the girls have been reported wearing a mask either, Director."

  "If we ever have a chance to meet one of them, we will inform them of the dangers. Tell the Wards Armsmaster to approach cautiously, but she should be safe to interact with. The rest of you push her gently about joining or coming in for power testing. We don't want to alienate a parahuman healer, whether as an ally or a Protectorate member; it's not something we can ignore."

  "What about the other two on her team, Director?"

  "The same Dauntless, although proceed with more caution, if they stick to their theme, even the one who calls herself a submarine will be heavily armed."

  Deputy Director James Renick took a sip from his water bottle as the capes left the room to either go home or start their shift. When the door closed, he said, "So you didn't bring up yesterday’s call with Costa Brown."

  "Rather not, the woman becomes more unhinged every day. It seems she got into a shouting match with the Commandant of the Coast Guard, who eventually told her to pound sand. The woman even accused the Navy of something, so now SECNAV is curious about what's happening. She even brought up the removal of the Saint Margaret for some reason."

  "Well, our analysts did get blindsided; Though, I can't imagine that WEDGDG fared any better. Not that it's really their area of responsibility, but she would have asked."

  "Well, she wants to know how we didn't know, which is not helpful—brought up the shipgirls again, which at least I can understand—driving both Wilkins and Armstrong batty about it, though."

  "The more, the merrier," he grinned. "Well, a little concerned with what's happening with the Coast Guard. We have generally had a good relationship with them."

  "And all of this for three new parahumans," Piggot sighed. "Do me a favor, James; nothing official, but I know there are those who have some friends over at Station Point Judith. We haven't brought it up, but the BBPD's latest drug-busting campaign has been more effective than usual. Wherever they are getting their information, it has been spot on."

  "You think our new parahumans are helping out the Coasties?"

  "Maritime drug enforcement is in their purview," Piggot hummed. "I think Assault, god help us, had a good point. They are probably involved. A soft touch, please; I think Costa Brown's heavy-handed approach has finally pissed enough people off; let us not make the same mistake."

  Dockworkers Compound, Brockton Bay

  Taylor had to thank the education system for planning a Training Day for the state's high school teachers at the end of the week. With her mom in class, it gave her a whole day to play in the water. Well, maybe not the entire day; Aoki and the girls wanted to know if she was interested in hanging out, but that was for later.

  However, what she didn't expect was for Lieutenant Bianchi to contact her. Emilia had been in charge of the boat that picked up the Russos and kept in quasi-contact with her ever since sort of her POC with the Coast Guard.

  Stepping off the bus, she strolled through the DWA, waving to those she recognized before entering 'Taylor's Place' or Warehouse 18 before coming to a stop, noticing someone lying against one of the walls. Next to the human-like mound were two dogs who had sat up, wagging their tails.

  Listening to her instincts, Taylor now stood in a nurse's uniform. The sudden change caused the two dogs to start barking happily, which caused the human mound to stir.

  "Good morning," Taylor called out in her posh west London accent.

  Looking down at the two dogs who now circled her feet, she reached out to pet them before standing back up. "These two darlings are in fine condition; obviously, you are not. What is your name?"

  The young woman, who hadn't moved from her position on the floor, stared at Taylor and then at her dogs before answering somewhat aggressively. "Bitch."

  "Tut, tut your given name, child."

  "Rachael," she murmured. "And I am not a child."

  "Splendid, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, dear; my name is Newfoundland," Taylor replied happily.

  "You're a cape?"

  "Obviously not; I am a hospital ship. Now, when was the last time you ate properly?"

  The dog-empowered parahuman stared at the strange nurse in incredulity. "A couple of days ago."

  "It is what I thought. What I see before me is a young woman who is hypothermic, malnourished, and working on a good case of pneumonia. Whose future will probably end with freezing to death in some back alley, and where will that leave your two precious ones?"

  Rachael looked at her two dogs with worry.

  "I see you understand," Taylor said with a smile.

  With a wave of her hand, a table appeared covered with a white tablecloth. Then equally white China plate with gold trim with the name HMHS Newfoundland followed by silverware—a tea set and a selection of small sandwiches, scones, and other pastries—finally, a small bowl of porridge, cinnamon, dried fruit, and a pitcher of milk.

  "Now come eat."

  While fussing over her patient, Taylor made a call that only she could hear, "Good morning, Lacey; it seems I have an unexpected houseguest at my warehouse."

  "Are you ok?"

  "Of course," Taylor assured her. "I am currently feeding her porridge and scones. She is not in a very good way. However, her two dogs are quite adorable. Can you bring yourself, Kurt, and, I think, Mark over to the warehouse? But please, make no loud noises when you enter; she appears to be a bit skittish."

  "Are those scones," a tall, blonde-haired, green-eyed man walked over to the table ten minutes later. Rachel quickly grabbed the plate and hugged it to her chest.

  "That's the first thing that comes out of your mouth," Taylor admonished him and then began the introductions.

  "Well, this lout is Mark; this is Kurt; he is my landlord and his lovely wife, Lacey. And this, my friends, is Rachael. Oh, and where are my manners? What are your dog's names, my dear?"

  "Judas and Angelica," she said, her mouth full of porridge.

  The hospital ship leaned down at two who were currently chowing down on a couple of bowls of ground horsemeat and said, "Well, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well."

  "Where did you get the table and food?" Kurt asked, looking around.

  "From my galley, of course. Well, I can see from Mark's distress that he also wants to partake. Well, why not? It's a Friday; the salvage team has worked hard all week."

  Taylor began walking around the room, and long tables with benches appeared behind her. Then against the wall, more tables ladened with eggs, sausage, fruit, powdered donuts, and dried toast served in large metal serving trays along with all sorts of condiments. Metal plates were also stacked up neatly next to a box of silverware.

  "I'm afraid the eggs are powered, food shortages and all that, but everything else is fresh, and the platter of scones should make someone happy."

  "I didn't know you could do this," Lacey whispered.

  "I didn't either," Taylor said with a grin.

  "You're going to save a ton on groceries," Kurt commented as he hobbled over to the sausages.

  "Unfortunately, the food comes out of my galley, so if I partake, it will just restock it. All right, Mark, I am going to set up a portable shower upstairs and a bed. The toilet is in working order, but can you make sure there are no problems heating the old offices?"

  The blond-haired man, who already had a plate of food in hand, nodded.

  "Kurt," she said, then touched his hand.

  "Newfoundland," he whined.

  Taking the cane from him, which vanished into her storage, she said, "Oh, stop being a big baby; I'm tired of seeing you hobbling about. I know this wet and cold weather is bothering you. I could have finished healing you weeks ago if you weren't so stubborn."

  Lacey couldn't hold back a snicker when her husband grumbled and grabbed a plate.

  Mark, who was actually in charge of DWA security, leaned next to Taylor and whispered, "I think that's Hellhound. She's wanted by the PRT for murder."

  Taylor looked over at the young woman who was lovingly petting her dogs. "Something tells me it's more complicated than that. Can you look into it for me, please?"

  “Will do.”

  "Kurt, if you don't mind," she called out. "I am going to have Rachel as a house guest for the time being. Having someone watch over my workshop while I am away would be a good thing. When I return later, I will show her what to stay away from and make her a little bit more comfortable, but I must be off before I am late for my meeting."

  "Rachel."

  The parahuman looked up.

  "Lacey here is going to get you settled. Upstairs will be a change of clothes, a shower, and a bed. Once you have finished eating, she will show you where to go. Later today, we can discuss what you want to do going forward; however, in the meantime, I suggest you eat and get some real sleep—Doctor's orders," she said with a smile.