Miss Militia was having a bad day.

  It had started early, a shooting in the South End in the last hour of yesterday’s patrol; something that wound up taking until nearly one in the morning to sort out. From there, she’d managed to make it back to the PRT building just as a team was going out to deal with an assault and subsequent car chase and shootout involving a former Ward.

  Now Amaranth was sitting across from her, shackled to an interrogation table made to hold the strongest of Brutes. Gone was the troubled girl who’d been striving to be a hero, despite her family’s history. In her place was a hardened vigilante whose actions made Shadow Stalker look reasonable by comparison.

  She was surprised how much it hurt, seeing Amaranth like that. The tattered, floral-patterned scarf wrapped around her face reminded Miss Militia of the guerrillas from her distant home. Her eyes were cold, and she didn’t flinch as Miss Militia stared her down. Even though she didn’t need to sleep, she felt totally exhausted.

  “Sorry about the mess,” Amaranth said at last, her voice hoarse. “Were any civilians hurt?” Miss Militia glanced over her shoulder at one of the three PRT officers in the room and got a subtle shake of his head.

  “No,” she replied. Amaranth took a deep breath and shut her eyes.

  “Okay,” Amaranth said flatly.

  “Don’t think that excuses your actions tonight,” Miss Militia said sharply. “You’re lucky Pandora was available, those two men were in critical condition.”

  “Don’t forget they’re selling drugs and weapons,” she said. “You know, stuff that kills people. Hey, did the cops get that RPG?” Miss Militia blinked.

  “I’m not aware of all the contraband that was seized,” she said. “But that’s not what we’re here to discuss. Amaranth, what the hell possessed you to steal a car and joy ride across the city?”

  “Joy ride?” Amaranth scoffed. “That was a pursuit, unless you somehow think I did that for fun.”

  “I have no idea why you did it,” Miss Militia said, exasperated. “You’ve done many questionable things, but you’re not a criminal.”

  “Duh,” she said. “Miss Militia, this was an actual operation against a gang called the Varangians. Staked out their shit for weeks before this. I got the first guys with no problems, but the second guys managed to call their friends. I...I didn’t want lose out on all that work.”

  Miss Militia pursed her lips. If Amaranth was telling the truth, that made this a little more complicated. The Varangians were a nasty splinter of Wotan’s Wolves. The director had authorized vigilantes to pursue them weeks ago, an extreme measure but both the PRT and police were still stretched to their limits. If her victims turned out to be members, then the PRT would overlook some of her actions.

  Not everything though.

  “You should be aware you may be indicted for this,” Miss Militia said.

  “Figures,” Amaranth muttered.

  “Reckless driving, stealing a vehicle, to say nothing of the weapons charges,” she continued. “Your powers aren’t a license to do whatever you want Amaranth. You’re subject to the law, just like everyone else.”

  “Besides the gangsters, nobody got hurt,” Amaranth said with a shrug. “I’ll pay for the fire hydrant, that’s fine, but come on; the gun wasn’t even mine, I took it off one of the guys I arrested. Plus, I didn’t shoot first.”

  “Irrelevant,” Miss Militia snapped.

  “No, it’s pretty relevant,” she countered. “If someone shot at you, what would you do Miss Artillery?”

  “Amaranth—”

  “Miss Militia,” Amaranth barked. “If you’re going to arrest me, get it over with so I can at least lay down instead of being cuffed to the most uncomfortable table you could possibly find. Please just...please.” Her shoulders slumped and she stared at the table.

  “You’ll be detained until we decide whether or not to press charges,” Miss Militia said with a sigh. “I’m disappointed with how you’ve decided to do this, Amaranth. I always knew you as someone to do better.”

  She pretended not to see the tears in the girl’s eyes as she left the interrogation room.

  “Things are starting early today, hm?” Director Higgins said, flicking through the reports.

  “Unfortunately sir,” Miss Militia said flatly, eyes flicking up to the clock; six. “And a familiar problem.”

  “Amaranth,” he sighed. “For all the trouble she causes, I have to say she’s effective.”

  “Maybe so, but her methods are unacceptable,” she replied. “People could have been killed in this stunt, a fact she seems to take for granted. To say nothing of the actual crimes committed while she was doing all this.”

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  “It does seem she went over the line,” he agreed. “How many people were injured?”

  “Two of the men she detained had severe injuries from their accident,” Miss Militia explained. “Two more in the back seat of the car she was apparently driving.”

  “Apparently?”

  “Amaranth hasn’t named any accomplices,” she said, an edge entering her voice. “The police dispatchers reported that someone other than her called it in, but they weren’t identified in the call.”

  “No chance they were civilians?” Higgins asked.

  “I think it’s unlikely,” she replied. “Amaranth is known to work with another parahuman named Nadir, a gravity manipulator.”

  “Any evidence? Witnesses?”

  “Not besides the suspects.”

  “Hard to take them at their word,” he said, shaking his head. “Especially when it’s a former Ward’s word against theirs. Were their affiliations confirmed?”

  “One was a former lieutenant in the Empire Eighty-Eight,” Miss Militia said. “Two others were known members of the Varangians. The remaining three have no affiliation or criminal record we could find.”

  “Lends credence to Amaranth’s statement about this being an operation,” he said. “So, what do you want to do with her?”

  “Unfortunately, I think at least some kind of criminal charge should be pressed,” she said grimly. “At this point, I’m not sure what else will get through to her.”

  “That may be complicated,” Higgins said, scratching his chin. “You know as well as I do how we’ve designated the remaining gangs like the Varangians.”

  “The deputizing of vigilantes against certain gangs can’t include actions like this,” Miss Militia said incredulously. “A high speed chase, discharging a firearm, I’m not sure we can or should ignore this.”

  “We won’t,” he replied, putting his paperwork down. “She seems to have admitted liability for the property damage at least, so we won’t need to formally charge her to recover costs like that. Legal is still arguing against the Youth Guard about the remaining funds in Amaranth’s trust; seems she got her rep to push for emancipation and that’s on the table. I’ll have Kristoff put together a waiver so we can seize the funds from that, with her consent.”

  “But no criminal charges?”

  “Miss Militia, I do understand your concerns,” Higgins said, looking more tired than he ever had. “Hell I share most of them. If I had it my way, Amaranth wouldn’t have been allowed to leave the Wards program. But the reality is, we can’t afford to take heroes off the street right now; at least not for too long. Let her stew for a few hours before you deliver the paperwork, sitting in a cell not knowing when the other shoe’s going to drop might hammer this lesson home.”

  “Very well sir,” Miss Militia said. “For the record, I don’t believe this is the right choice.”

  “Noted,” he said simply. “Now about this shooting in the South End?”

  Miss Militia suppressed a disappointed sigh as the conversation moved along.

  “Miss Militia, do you have a minute?”

  “Of course Autumn Rain,” Miss Militia said, looking up from her computer screen. The girl shuffled nervously, staring at the ground.

  “Is it true that Amaranth got arrested?” she asked, making Miss Militia grimace.

  “She was detained following a high-speed chase this morning, yes,” she confirmed. “Why do you—”

  “Please don’t charge her,” Autumn Rain blurted, shoulders hunching. “I know she doesn’t always do things right but...but I think she’s a good hero, a good person.” Miss Militia blinked, taken aback.

  “I can’t discuss detention proceedings, I’m sorry.”

  “Okay just...I don’t know, think about it?” The Ward sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, but Amaranth stuck up for me a lot; I owe her.”

  “It’s alright Autumn, I appreciate you looking out for a friend,” Miss Militia replied gently. “Remember that Amaranth isn’t a Ward though, she needs to take responsibility for her actions.”

  “Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am,” Autumn replied, then beat a hasty retreat from the cubicle.

  Miss Militia turned her attention back to the screen, a tension growing in her chest. She’d written up two forms for Amaranth, one that was an admission of liability for property damage and an agreement to pay back the city for it. The other...a confession, of sorts. Not just for the damages, but everything that the police and suspects had alleged.

  She knew nothing would come of it, that even with a signed confession the PRT would likely refuse to press charges; the director had made that abundantly clear. There was a small part of her that agreed with that decision. As much trouble as she caused, Amaranth was doing a fine job if one only looked at how many criminals she arrested.

  But that was only half the story, a half that the media wouldn’t focus on. Criticism of parahumans had spiked following the revelations during the battle against Echidna and Alexandria’s subsequent resignation. Now people looked at heroes and villains alike as dangerously powerful and practically unchecked, something this incident wouldn’t help.

  The confession wasn’t for the public though, it was for Amaranth; a test of sorts. The girl had always been up front about what she’d done wrong, willing to take the consequences of her actions on the chin. Now...Miss Militia wasn’t sure. She wanted to believe that heroic young woman was still in there, wanted to believe she hadn’t been smothered under months of intense violence and trauma.

  She wished she wasn’t afraid of the answer.

  “Hey Pandora.”

  “Amaranth,” Pandora replied, her voice thick with tension. “What the fu— No, we’ll talk later.”

  “Sorry,” Amaranth said sheepishly. She glanced back at Miss Militia, but didn’t meet her eyes. “Um, sorry again about the trouble. Next time...I’ll cut my losses, okay?”

  “Next time I’d rather you communicate with us,” Miss Militia stressed, putting a hand on her former Ward’s shoulder. The girl stared at the floor. “I know you can be a hero Amaranth, please don’t prove me wrong.”

  “I won’t, I promise.” She looked up, meeting Miss Militia’s eyes. She almost believed it…

  Pandora took Amaranth’s hand and pulled her along out of the building. She watched them go, chatting quietly between themselves. Miss Militia was glad Amaranth had someone like Pandora around, keeping her in check. Mostly, she wished that the girl didn’t need someone like that at all.

  With a sigh, she headed back into the headquarters, taking the elevator back up to her office. When she arrived, she shut the lights off and sat heavily in her chair. Amaranth’s unsigned confession sat on Miss Militia’s desk, mocking her optimism.

  It had been a longshot, she knew, but part of her had still expected Amaranth to cooperate and throw herself on the PRT’s mercy. It hurt that she didn’t trust them enough to take responsibility any longer, hurt more that Miss Militia may have been part of that attitude’s development. She crumpled the paper and threw it in the basket next to her desk, then turned her attention to her computer screen. She could only hope Amaranth meant what she said about doing better.

  She worried that she’d forgotten how to see when someone was lying.