The Rise of Marquis 11.1 Interlude: PRT (Patreon)

Commissioned by Kejmur

The Rise of Marquis
Interlude: PRT

-VB-

Corporal Amanda Heggis sighed as she pulled her helmet off and set it to the side.

It was lunch break for her, and she dearly wanted to eat.

“Amanda!”

She grunted only once as her “best” friend tackled her. Being bigger than her friend however, she remained standing.

“Daniel.”

The shorter man, shorter by half a foot, quickly got off of her and swung an arm around her shoulders, which was kind of hard for him to do but he managed anyways after the nine or so years of friendship the two of them had since middle school.

“You’re finally on break?”

“I am. You?”

“Being the boss of my own department gives me leeway, ya know?”

Daniel was annoying but he was a reliable man at the same time. It irked her to even think that, considering that during high school, he often foisted most of the group projects onto her. Since their high school graduation, he’s turned it around and made himself … important. She didn’t know how, but he somehow, over the course of merely one year, joined some other PRT branch (roped her along, too, but told her to stay in their hometown) and then came back to become the head of its Department of Acquisitions.

“So basically, you’re screwing around again,” she snorted.

“Hey, I resent that!” he whined petulantly. “I actually finished all of the work this time!”

“So you haven’t been before this?”

“Ugh. You sound just like my secretary.”

“I’m sure whoever is saddled with you has their hands full because it’s you.”

“Okay, seriously, Amanda. Is this about the history project from 8th grade?”

She stumbled. “What the f-? You think I’m that petty?!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Amanda, you blueball me all day everyday,” he replied innocently just as they entered the cafeteria.

She glared sideways at him. “Always with your words,” she grunted as she shoulder-checked him half-heartedly.

“And you with your brutish ways~! Someone save me from her!”

The few troopers currently in the cafeteria just chuckled at their antics.

She got her plate of lettuce salad, mango curry chicken, two apples, one banana, and a cup of water. Daniel got well done steak, a watermelon flavored juice box, and a St*rbucks frapp. She took one look at his food choice and frowned. “Daniel, I told you eat healthier,” she snapped.

He shrugged. “A man eats what he wants.”

“Oh, is that so? When we go home, should I also say that as I eat all of your ice creams?”

He looked aghast. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would. Oh, I’ve been out in the sun for who knows how long in my stuffy black armor! I’m sure ice cream will help me feel better…”

“B-But I bought that for s-something else!”

“And you keep refusing to tell me what it is for,” she grumbled as she took a bite of the chicken.

“Well-”

SLAM

Everyone snapped towards the entrance of the cafeteria, and found Armsmaster with his entire armor smoking. He stomped his way across the cafeteria, took a single gallon jug of water, and left.

“... Jesus, the man looks more irritated by the day,” Amanda mumbled.

“Isn’t that Armsmaster?” Daniel asked quietly. Other quiet conversations broke out in the cafeteria.

“It is.”

“But he’s armor is-”

“I know. It’s a common occurrence.”

“Common…?!”

Amanda sighed. “Look, you’re stuck in your department, and we know that Acquisition’s staff aren’t exactly up to date with all of the day-to-day operations of the PRT.”

“I know,” Daniel sighed. “But what does that have to do with Armsmaster’s state?”

“You know about Marquis and his March, right? They’re the reason.”

He blinked at her. “I didn’t know. I mean, I’m in Acquisitions, remember? I just look at the numbers, and PRT as a whole doesn’t exactly change much.”

“Right, you don’t handle the Protectorate’s budget. So basically, the March is pretty nice. They don’t fuck with the people or us, the grunts, much. What the March likes to do is put up shows showing how powerful they are in comparison to the local Protectorate. Let me tell you, Marquis? That man can stomp five Protectorate heroes at once and get away with it nearly scratch-free.”

Daniel blinked rapidly. “No way,” he chuckled. “That’s like…”

“He’s a warlord in everything but name, Daniel,” she mumbled. “Coupled with their strategist Thinker, minion Tinker, a couple Brutes, and a self-replicating Master, the March is literally too much for the PRT and the Protectorate to handle. They just ‘let us’ stay because they know the moment they step too far out of line, cause too many damages or deaths, then the Triumvirate will come down on their heads.”

She finished her chicken and took a long sip of her water.

Daniel still looked flabbergasted. “It’s that bad?”

“It’s not bad. Just … demeaning,” she grumbled. “Everyone in the city knows the play. The March comes, stomps around, and leaves. The Protectorate goes home with bruises. Nothing changes. The PRT can’t even friggin manage the city by itself. It relies on half a dozen small teams. And don’t get me started on what happens if any of the older generation of independent teams who’s now part of the Protectorate end up facing Marquis. He will crush them without remorse, literally sending them back with broken ribs and arms.”

“Wait, wasn’t that on the news a couple months ago?”

“That’s what that was about. Apparently, those two broke the rules back in the day.”

“Yikes.”

Just because they weren’t parahumans did not mean that they didn’t know about the Unwritten Rules, the unofficial basic guidelines that told all capes and parahumans how to act. No killing, no rape, no permanent injuries, and the like.

Anyone caught breaking those rules… Well, there was a reason why violent villain, vigilante, and hero turnovers were high; they got no mercy from the opposite side. Attempting to “avenge” those deaths often got everyone else to gang up on them instead.

So when Brandish and Manpower got their heads kicked in metaphorically, the PRT really couldn’t do anything about it, not without causing further reprisals from the March (whose actual firepower was still unknown to the PRT) and all other non-PRT cape and parahumans groups in the city.

“Sucks to be them,” Daniel hummed. “But back to the things we were talking about. You blueball me everyday, sleeping with a tank top two sizes too small and short shorts.”

She nearly choked on her water as other troopers laughed.