PWP: 5.4.5 Parahuman Response Team (Patreon)

Scale 5.4.5 Parahuman Response Team

Emily Piggot
2010, December 5: Brockton Bay, NH, USA

I watched in stony silence as the videos played back-to-back. The first was a spliced-together recording of various helmet cam footage from Damascus, courtesy of Dragon. In it, Creed emerged from the medical station and placed himself beneath Ursa Aurora’s command before taking the standout role in the operation.

He promptly opened communications between the rebels and the Protectorate, closing off one possible combat front. He then proceeded to dismantle Marid, one of the most powerful flyers in the Middle East, a cape analysts compared favorably with the likes of Exalt. He rescued civilians trapped in fires while a blocky drone of some kind took out the Lionguard’s pyrokinetic. Then, as if to prove he wasn’t finished, he executed Arsalan, the lynchpin of the SRG’s power in Damascus, all while acting as a shockingly competent field medic.

It was unbelievable. Any one of those things would have been contribution enough. He fought like a veteran of multiple deployments, not someone who was young enough to belong in the Wards. His tech was so versatile that the tinker collective theory regarding The GOAT’s organization was all but assured.

Then came the second video. It was an absolute joke, not only compared to the first, but even stand-alone, precisely because The GOAT meant it to be that way. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that this little confrontation had been orchestrated by that shadowy thinker.

Creed goaded Shadow Stalker into a fight, promptly handed her her ass on a silver platter, then waved the whole thing off as though it was a prearranged spar between heroes. It was glaringly obvious that he could have done much worse to the uppity Ward.

Worse, given she’d been the first to attack, he would have been in the right. Capes were annoying like that. They often functioned on a “Hit me, see what happens,” sort of juvenile posturing. So when Stalker did hit Creed, but nothing happened, that was a message unto itself.

The message couldn’t have been any clearer if The GOAT wrote it in sky-writing: Creed is a hero now. It is in your best interest that he remains a hero.

Around me were members of my Protectorate, as well as my deputy director. Armsmaster, Renick, and I had seen the footage of Creed’s actions in Damascus, but this would be the first time for most of them.

“Ho-ly shit,” Assault said with a low whistle. He was leaning back casually in his chair, foot on the table. I paid it no mind. His irreverence was part of his brand at this point. “Were those two the same capes? Because the way they acted was completely different.”

“The situation was completely different,” Velocity offered. He was one of the more reliable capes I had, no doubt because of his army background. “There is no comparing a riot like Damascus and a chance encounter with two Wards. Way I see it, Creed showed a lot of restraint in the second. He clearly knows to use proportionate force.”

“That’s not saying much,” Battery said. “You’d hope every cape knows to draw the line between a murderous human master and Shadow Stalker, especially a hero-hopeful.”

“‘Hope’ being the operative word here. I don’t know about you, but ‘overeager’ is the nicest word I’d use to describe some capes.”

“Point.”

“I read Ursa Aurora’s reports too, but they really don’t do him justice, do they?” Dauntless added. The hometown favorite had his helmet off and in front of him. Out of all the capes in my employ, he probably had the healthiest work-life balance. “I’m glad he knows how to pull his punches.”

“Are we really okay with this?” Miss Militia asked. She tried to hide her agitation, but the way her weapon switched to ever-larger ordinance gave her mood away. “If we’re right and Creed is indeed a minor, this should raise some warning flags, ma’am.”

“Explain, how do you figure?” I hummed.

“The GOAT has been guiding him, grooming him into the equivalent of a child soldier.” She turned back the video to a scene captured by Flechette’s helmet cam. “That isn’t the stance of a kid out of his depth. That’s the stance of a veteran.”

I had to give that to her. The picture was almost cinematic. Creed’s cape billowed dramatically behind him. He was braced perfectly to absorb the recoil of his gun. His posture screamed of determination, someone ready to do what must be done.

And he had. He’d killed Arsalan, not because his own life was at risk, but because he deemed that this was the fastest way to end the fighting. Desperate self-defense was one thing, we’d all seen examples of minors lashing out, usually in ill-fated trigger events, but this was different. He’d decided to kill, weighed the pros and cons and came to the conclusion that the world was better off without Arsalan in it.

It wasn’t the wrong conclusion, but that a boy who was supposedly Wards-age made it, raised a few flags. It spoke of a clinical maturity beyond his years, or maybe a fanatic devotion to the “mission,” whatever that mission might have been.

“You believe The GOAT has master powers?” I asked, face carefully neutral. Teacher was still a fresh memory for those who’d been around long enough. That wasn’t an accusation made lightly. That said, it wasn’t an impossible conclusion to come to either.

“No, ma’am. I just… I don’t know what The GOAT has been feeding Creed, but someone who’s willing to turn a child into a weapon isn’t someone I’d consider a hero.”

“Hold on now, MM,” Assault said. He took control of the mouse and flipped back to the video of Aegis and Shadow Stalker’s encounter with the tinker. “I get that the little guy’s terrifying, but he’s also not some unthinking machine, yeah? He’s clearly got enough presence of mind to laugh at Shadow Stalker.”

“He does. I'm not saying Creed is a mindless weapon, but The GOAT's methods are questionable. I think we have reason to believe The GOAT groomed Creed to be a weapon, maybe with heroic intentions, but it makes me uncomfortable.”

“I think Creed’s a lot more mature than we gave him credit for. He might be a bit older, too,” Velocity said. “Creed did what he needed to do. Maybe it wasn’t the appropriate choice given his age, but he’s made it and saved a lot of lives because of it. I think we should leave it at that.”

Militia let out a carefully controlled sigh. “Yes, you’re right. I would like my concern noted however, ma’am.”

“Understood. I’ll pass our observations along to national,” I told her. Given her own past as a child soldier, she could be seeing ghosts that weren’t there. Then again, she could be more sensitive to this sort of thing. Either way, following up on the possibility wasn’t the worst idea.

“Actually, while we're on the topic of Creed's behavior,” Battery began, “Has anyone noticed how he interacted with Flechette? He treated her completely differently compared to Shadow Stalker, or even Jouster and Shelter.”

“Maybe the tinker wonder's got a crush,” Assault said. “Might mean he's around her age, like we guessed.”

“He was kind enough to hold her hair while she threw up, in the middle of the battlefield no less. That doesn't seem like Creed's normal behavior.”

“Yup. He might have sent that duck-drone thing to protect her specifically too. I think I saw it use a force field earlier.”

“It did seem responsive to her movements,” Armsmaster mused. “It worked with her to take the Lionguard’s pyrokinetic out of commission.”

“Or, The GOAT told him to behave that way,” Dauntless pointed out. “How do we know that it's Creed who's interested in her and not his boss?”

“An unhelpful point,” Armsmaster replied. I wanted to roll my eyes. He had something against the hometown hero and tended to shoot down Dauntless’ observations. “If we follow that logic, the reverse could also be true. It could be said that The GOAT ordered him to act the fool against Shadow Stalker and Aegis and the way he behaved towards Flechette is closer to his true personality. In fact, that seems more likely when we consider that the confrontation with Shadow Stalker was almost certainly scripted.”

“Huh, yeah, I didn’t think of that. I guess if The GOAT was to take an interest in anyone from New York, it would be another tinker like Shelter.”

“Correct. That would be more in line with his previous interest in Kid Win.”

“So Creed has a thing for Flechette? Are we really holding a meeting to discuss some kid's love life?” Velocity asked with a laugh. “Even if we say that's true, I don't see what that has to do with us in Brockton. It's not like she's going to transfer here, right? It’s not information we can use, and I’d feel really scummy using it at all.”

“Right. It doesn't matter in the end. Just note it in his personality file as a possibility,” I said. “It shows he is protective of certain people and that's enough for now. Let's move on.”

Just because we wouldn’t be throwing Flechette at Creed didn’t mean it wasn’t useful information. Any hint of his true personality could help our analysts fill in the giant blank spots in his file. It’d take a lot more than this, but if we gathered enough examples, we could put together a working psychological profile for him.

“As you say, director.” Renick tapped the notepad in front of him in thought. “Whatever the case may be with Creed’s personality, we have other things to discuss. I am particularly concerned with The GOAT’s predictions.”

“Yes, I’m worried about that as well. Armsmaster, do you have a nanothorn project?”

He looked at us like he’d sucked a lemon. “It was something I’d brainstormed on the side. It is not even in its prototype phase yet.”

“The GOAT knew about that? I guess that proves his thinker chops,” Assault said. “Either that, or we’re compromised so hilariously that we may as well give them the city.”

“The GOAT is a confirmed thinker. Even before this incident, they were able to discern Kid Win’s specialization and offered Dragon valuable information about the physiology of endbringers. In context, their pessimism regarding the nanothorn project makes sense.”

“Yeah, wasn’t there something in Creed’s original post about whales and Miss Militia too?”

“There was,” she said carefully. “The truth is, I remember seeing a vision when I triggered. It was a dazzling sea of lights, a figure that swam through space and rained down a meteor shower. I suppose it might look like a whale, though I’ve never thought of it as one until that post.”

“Okay… That’s a little freaky.”

“It's not just that,” his wife added. She flipped through the recording until it showed Creed's final exchange with Shadow Stalker. “I noticed Creed staggered his attacks there. First the crossbow bolt, then the electric attack. Could he have known about Shadow Stalker's weakness to electricity?”

“Probably. Wouldn't surprise me at this point. He also knew her past as a vigilante, remember? Must be nice, having a thinker to give you the inside scoop on everyone.”

“The GOAT’s information has been reliable so far,” Armsmaster said. “I will see if the nanothorn project holds merit in other applications. Otherwise, I will have to reconsider the way I've allocated my resources.”

“Conduct a thorough search of our systems while you're at it,” I said, “just in case we've been compromised. The GOAT is a thinker, but that doesn't mean we should make things easy for them.”

“Understood, director.”

“There's one final thing he mentioned, director,” Triumph said. The youngest Protectorate hero was the reliable sort, green as grass but dedicated. “He also mentioned something about ‘Lady,’ saying how Shadow should ask you about it.”

Figured that the fucking thinker would know. I schooled my expression. It wasn't Triumph's fault that he was bringing up bad memories.

Renick winced next to me. He knew, as did most of the senior capes. It wasn't some big secret anyway.

“That was my codename when I used to be a trooper,” I said carefully. “I used to pound the pavement like the rest of you.”

“Oh, I didn't know that,” he trailed off. He was smart enough to know not to pry further. 

Good kid, Rory.

I kept the meeting moving forward. The GOAT was exactly the kind of thinker that pissed me off, the kind that managed to be both insufferable and useful. 

“As things stand, we must conclude that The GOAT and Creed are independent heroes. However, should Creed's change of heart be less than genuine, we are authorized to treat him as an A-class threat.”

“Is that really necessary, ma'am?” Miss Militia asked. She undoubtedly felt uncomfortable with putting a teenager on the same threat level as the Slaughterhouse Nine or Nilbog. Such a designation was usually the precursor to a kill order and mandated heroic responses from multiple cities. “I agree he is exceptionally skilled, but–”

“But nothing. If it was just his combat potential, we'd leave him at a B-class threat rating and be done with it. The real concern is what The GOAT may know, and be willing to use to damage the PRT. They've been helpful so far, but that is no guarantee of future cooperation.

“In the event they turn hostile, the priority will be to capture Creed using overwhelming firepower so as to acquire The GOAT's location from him. Keep in mind, given their knowledge so far, The GOAT likely knows the secret identities of several heroes. Their organization going villan would be catastrophic. So long as they remain heroes, we will treat them as such.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Good. Make sure the Wards know not to fight. I don't want another incident with Creed. That was embarrassing enough without it getting plastered all over the news. If we have helmet cams, Creed most certainly does as well.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll make sure the Wards stay cordial.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

When they all left, I allowed myself a defeated sigh. It was galling to admit, but the PRT's grand strategy when it came to The GOAT and their organization could be summed up as “wait and see.” We knew so little that this was all we could do.

I hated my job. I hated capes. Even when they were nominally helpful, they were colossal pains in my ass.

Author’s Note

Short chapter, but necessary I think. It's nothing new, but I thought their thought process might be interesting. The PRT really has no idea what to make of Creed. They've never dealt with someone like him before; he's a complete anomaly in many respects.

Exalt is Eidolon’s right hand and a member of the Houston Protectorate.

Animal Fact: The baculum is a type of bone found inside of the penis of some species. For example, raccoons, chimps, and gorillas have them but humans do not.

Some Native Americans used to use raccoon baculum to pack tobacco inside of pipes. Other than that, they’re sometimes worn as ornaments or used as toothpicks. So yes, you can pick your teeth and give a dead raccoon a blowjob at the same time.