Note: The E88 will be appearing, so I apologize in advance for their rather crude remarks.

  Hebert Residence, Brockton Bay

  How did she get into this mess? One moment, Taylor was out with her mother seeing a show; the next, she was assisting some injured firefighters and taking them to Brockton General in an old Austin K2/Y Ambulance. Finally, she ended the night by dressing down the lead emergency room physician for taking advantage of a sixteen-year-old girl.

  "You appear to be highly amused, Mother," she grumbled.

  Although it was now quite late, the two sat at the kitchen table, sharing a bit of hot chocolate.

  "Oh, I find the whole thing fascinating; not how I expected our evening out to end, although admittedly, it's quite funny as well, considering you yourself just turned fifteen."

  "Well, I'm not sure what came over me. Amy, I mean Panacea, had been at the hospital since dinner. I caught her napping in the break room. One of the nurses told me that she's been working in the hospital almost every day since school ended."

  Taylor shook her head. She had seen it before: nurses and doctors working to the point of collapse.

  "She joined New Wave; what in the Spring?"

  "End of April. Amy and her sister were at South River Mall and found themselves in the middle of an armed robbery. Her sister was shot in the back by a stray bullet. She, I guess, Triggered and gained the ability to heal. Although what I can do and what she can do is like night and day."

  Annette nodded, looking thoughtful. From what she had read, the Dallon girl could do some miraculous healing, such as curing cancer and restoring lost limbs. Taylor explained that as a hospital ship, her healing was more mundane, closer to what a team of physicians could do, just at a massive, accelerated rate.

  "And her sister, whom you had met before, picked her up afterward?"

  "Well, Vulcan knows her pretty well, but it seems most people have seen the two flying about; Vicky tells me she does it pretty often. Anyway, I'm not sure if my interfering will help, but Audrey, one of the head nurses, said she would follow up with Amy's parents. Maybe limit it to twenty or so hours per week; otherwise, she's going to burn herself out."

  "And the PRT?"

  "Missed them again." Taylor laughed, then pouted a bit. "Doctor Jerk called the hotline claiming I was causing issues. The nurses said they would cover for me. Apparently, the guy's a total pillock."

  Annette sighed. She knew her daughter wasn't going to stop helping people, but her child's luck was surprising.

  "Your ambulance made the news."

  "Oh really, neat."

  Boat Graveyard, Brockton Bay

  Floating on her back, Taylor half dozed in the center of the ocean. It had been quite an eventful week. But as with all good things, it was coming to an end. School was starting for pretty much everyone the following day, which would keep her from regularly going out for her morning swims.

  However, today should be fun. Aoki had this Sunday off, and her friends had invited Taylor to lunch and maybe a movie. Her mom seemed pleased that she accepted the invitation. Thinking back, it had been a while since she had done something like that—meeting with friends, shopping, and the like—not since Emma.

  Taylor often found herself reaching for her phone to call her former best friend. To talk about their day, the shows they were watching, the books they were reading. And even their hopes, dreams, and fears. Whatever occurred when she was away at camp must have been traumatic. And Emma was there for her when Taylor's dad died, and she wanted to be there for her now. But that wasn't going to happen. At least her mother still had a close relationship with Aunt Zoe. And maybe someday, she will be able to sit down and talk to her old friend, but for now, Taylor needed to move on.

  Surfacing behind the wreck, which hid her from prying eyes, she pulled herself up and onto the deck of the Saint Margaret. No one was around on a Sunday, so she wouldn't remain long, but Taylor wanted to check on what had been done.

  Switching from a submarine to her repair ship form, she stuck her head into the bridge. Much of the equipment had been removed or in the process of removal. Coils of copper wire littered the deck, and several bulkheads were opened. It would soon be almost impossible to hide what they were doing, so they wanted to get as much as the upperworks salvaged before they made the official announcement.

  Stepping outside, she called out, "Morning, Vicky, you're up early."

  Her ship's radar was wonderful for keeping ships, planes, and people from sneaking up on her. Brockton Bay's Alexandria package had been visiting most mornings for a few hours every day. Glory Girl even gleefully helped tear apart some bulkheads and stuck hatches.

  "Sup, Vulcan." The platinum-blonde teenager landed beside her and asked, "Where's everyone?"

  "It's Sunday."

  "Oh, right." She made a face and looked into one of the passageways. "You guys are really tearing her apart. Oh, I won't be able to help much anymore."

  She seemed sad about that.

  "Right, school is starting." Taylor pointed to another room where a table had been set up. Grabbing a couple of water bottles and a pack of cookies, the two sat down.

  Emptying half the bottle, Vicky sighed. "Thanks."

  "You, OK?" Taylor could tell the normally cheerful girl was troubled.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "Sort of; my parents wanted to talk to Amy alone, so they asked me to go have breakfast someplace. I know you don't follow PHO, but there was a fire in the theater district on Friday night. Two of the firefighters were hurt and were taken to the hospital. It seems my sister had been there for most of the day. The person in charge found out, some sort of Naval Officer, ripped the doctors a new one for it. Worse, I didn't even know Amy was there until she called me for a lift back home."

  Taylor, knowing that it had been quite late, raised an eyebrow.

  "I was on a date with Dean." Vicky grinned, then frowned, finishing off the water bottle.

  "Oh?"

  "Seems Amy has been sneaking off to work in the hospital all summer. I thought she was out with her friends."

  She then set her head on the table and murmured, "I'm such a bad sister."

  Standing up, Vicky walked over to the cooler and grabbed another water bottle before sitting back down. "My mom and sister were seriously going at it when I left. Surprisingly, Dad was playing mediator. It must be a really good day for him. In fact, right before he pushed me out the door, he told them both off for working all the time and ignoring their family."

  Vicky laughed, wiped her eyes, and smiled. "Sorry, I know we don't know each other that well, and I'm sure you didn't want to hear about my family angst."

  "It's fine; I don't mind."

  "Thanks, you're a good friend."

  "Friend, huh?" Taylor thought with a smile, then asked, "Would you like to help me crack open a stuck hatch before you have to get back?"

  Dallon Household, Brockton Bay

  When 'Good Morning, Brockton Bay,' the local news and morning show, started its traffic hour, little did the citizens of the fair city know that this would not be an ordinary Tuesday. The gang violence spoken of in a piece earlier about the ongoing conflict between the Merchants and the Empire was something most of them had long become numb to. But instead of reporting on the traffic accident on the I-295 and the Parker Turnpike exit, it turned its cameras toward Lord's Port, more commonly known as the Boat Graveyard.

  As the helicopter hovered in place, its cameras began to show a flurry of activity around the wreck of the Saint Margaret. On its starboard side, workers from a second large ship had attached numerous hoses to the wreck. A large barge, familiar to some as something the Dock Workers Association owned, sat on the wreck's port side where further activity could be seen. Even more surprising was an 80-foot Coast Guard ship that patrolled off in the distance beyond the three vessels.

  On the far side of town, the Dallon family had sat down for breakfast when Vicky called out, "See, I told you something was happening today."

  Reaching for the remote, she turned up the volume when her sister Amy asked, "So you got this news from your new Tinker friend; what's her name again?"

  "Vulcan, and she's not a parahuman."

  "If you say so," Amy took a sip of coffee. "And this non-parahuman was the one you were sneaking off in the morning to go visit."

  "I wasn't sneaking off," Vickie protested. "I was patrolling."

  "Girls," Carole, their mother, forcefully interrupted. "We can discuss this non-parahuman later, but Mayor Christner's about to speak."

  On the television, a familiar-looking middle-aged man stood behind a podium and shuffled a few sheets of paper before starting. "Good morning. I am here to make a short statement about what is currently happening in the Bay. Unfortunately, I will only be able to answer a few questions this morning; however, Kelly will have a packet available with more information at the end of this new conference."

  Nodding to the reporters, he continued. "A year ago, I lost a good friend of mine, Danny Hebert. His death was not just a great loss to his family and friends but to the city as well. As the head of the Dock Workers Association, we often came into conflict mainly due to budgetary concerns; however, one thing we always agreed on was the need to put more people to work in this great city of ours and to revitalize its economy. Often, he spoke about the need to clean the Bay and restart the Henry Clinton Ferry. We are closer to fulfilling that dream than ever before. Today, along with the Office of the Mayor, the Dockworkers Association, and Sanger Salvaging, I am pleased to announce the start of 'The Danny Hebert Project.'"

  He paused and took a sip of water as an image of the work currently being done on the Bay appeared behind him.

  "One obstacle has always been the wreck of the Saint Margaret. The city was often told that the cost of its removal would be too expensive and too dangerous. Many salvage companies refused to even look at the wreck due to rumors of unexploded ordnance and other lethal traps left by the sailors who scuttled her.

  The mayor smiled, stepped back, and showed a chart with a list of things they hoped to accomplish and a time frame.

  "Unknown to but a few in this room, a group of professionals with underwater demolition experience have been diving on the wreck this past month, removing those dangers. This morning, following all State and Federal laws, Sanger Salvaging began the process of unloading the fuel from the wreck to lessen the chance of further ecological damage. While this is ongoing, plans are being finalized with the help of the US Coast Guard to raise and then tow the ship into the sound and sink her so it will no longer be a danger to navigation."

  "So, you managed to keep all of this secret," Amy grinned at her sister as the mayor began to call on reporters. "I'm impressed."

  "I can keep a secret, although I wasn't told everything. But I did know they planned on doing something with the old wreck, cool, right?"

  "I am going to hope you were not involved with any explosives, Vickie."

  "No, Dad, that was another group; Vulcan works on the repair side of things. I think she's in the Navy or working with them, but she knows her stuff anyway. Oh, met a bunch of other people who work for the DWA, like the guy in the blue jacket near the mayor. I think his name is Kurt."

  "Didn't you know Danny Hebert, Mom?" Amy asked.

  "We met a few times in passing; he was a good friend of Alan Barnes," she replied. "Now, shush; I want to hear the rest."

  "No, Anne, this is being done without parahuman involvement," the mayor answered one of the reporter's questions. "However, we did send a notice to PRT this morning informing them of the work."

  With a smile, he pointed to another reporter.

  "I had heard a lot of the issues with removing the various wrecks were due to the many insurance companies involved."

  "Well, Jean, several of those companies, as you're aware, no longer exist, so the salvage rights fall back to the city. As for the others, as owners of the wrecks, they were responsible for their removal. Leaving them in place and becoming further navigational hazards has accumulated quite a number of State and Federal fines going back at least a decade. Every insurance company so far has come back to us, waving those rights in lieu of not having to pay some of those fines. The State's Attorney General will be reaching out to the remaining companies."

  Medhall Corp, Brockton Bay

  An hour after the news conference, a group of men sat at a conference table at the Medhall Corporation building. Max Anders, also known as the villain Kaiser, was at the front of the table, staring off towards the bay.

  "So, gentlemen, what do your contacts tell you?"

  "Nothing," Victor shrugged. "The PRT was just as surprised as everyone else."

  Kaiser frowned. "I see; this could be both good and bad for us. Anything more on that parahuman who's working with the Coast Guard- what was the name again? Can we confirm they aren't part of this?"

  "Yuudachi," Kreig answered. "And from what we have been told, she's not."

  "Who cares about some chink out of Ipswich Bay?" growled Hookwolf. "Let Accord deal with her."

  "The name is Japanese, Brad, which means 'Evening Squall.'"

  "Why the fuck would I care what bitches’ name means, James," Hookwolf snapped. "As long as she doesn't come to the Bay, who cares?"

  Kaiser gave James a strange look and then turned back to the others. "I agree with Brad, but keep checking your sources. We don't need another parahuman joining forces with Lung, either. Now, the opening of Lord's Port will allow us to transport more products, which will earn us more money. However, there will be more oversight, so we need to remain vigilant."

  Hookwolf frowned. "Those guys at the docks are a pain in the ass already; I can't see this not causing us problems."

  "Probably, but keep away from them for now. Let's see if we can benefit from all their hard work." Kaiser then turned to Victor. "See if there are any true believers in the Coast Guard; perhaps they have more information than the PRT lacks."