From the creator of Emergence comes the crossover you never knew you wanted or needed!
Quick notes: It's Emergenceverse, kinda-sorta-not-really, it's not meant to be super-serious, I can't speak Lang Belta for shit so most of it sounds stupid as hell, and it kind of got away from me near the end.
The Devil's Bargain
RWBY/The Expanse
The woman seemed completely nonplussed as she stood in the center of the compartment, surrounded by people pointing guns at her. Crystal blue eyes and a shock of raven-black hair were visible through the clear faceplate of her suit. Her tight space suit matched, with a smooth black exterior, blue stripes, and silver armor plating. A strange looking weapon was clipped to her back and a more standard (if expensive) looking pistol strapped to her chest, but she made no move to grab either, instead letting her hands hang loosely in front of her.
"You pixie dust no work in space!" one of the others shouted. In contrast to the woman, his suit was worn and dirty, and the gun in his hands was a cheap, common model.
The woman snorted at that. "I don't need pixie dust to kick your sorry asses."
He couldn't help but laugh, jerking his gun for emphasis. "You surrounded! You one gun, we eight guns."
His seven comrades repeated the motion, stepping forward to box their opponent in.
She sighed ruefully and shook her head. "Your loss."
In a flash, the raven-haired woman was moving. She released her mag-boots and leaped upward, drawing her weapon. Her opponents opened fire, three of them managing to shred each other while failing to hit their intended target.
"Remnalowda!" a woman shouted, firing her pistol upwards.
Gunfire echoed through the compartment, but the "Remnalowda" fired her own weapon, sending her flying out of the line of fire and putting a fist-sized hole through the side of the compartment. She waved her off hand and a ghostly white wolf flashed into existence, charging at the shooters with a complete disregard of normal physics.
The remaining five were driven into complete disarray. Two of them struggled to get their helmets on as the air leaked out of the compartment, while the remaining three divided their fire between the woman above them and the wolf leaping toward them.
The raven-haired woman above pushed off a wall and fired her weapon again, flying toward a woman trying to get her helmet on. She fired again- putting another hole in the compartment- and pressed a button on her weapon, causing a glowing blade to spring out above the barrel. The other woman looked up just in time for the blade to cut through her throat. At the same time, her ghostly wolf slammed a man into the compartment wall and ripped his throat out.
That left two. The raven-haired woman activated her mag boots and stuck herself to the wall, dismissed the wolf with a wave of her hand, stowed her rifle and drew her pistol. One of the remaining men popped off two shots to her chest, which she shrugged off before drilling him in the head.
The last man held a rifle in shaky hands, pulling the trigger and receiving only clicks in response. She wrenched the gun from his hands and raised her own pistol. She put the barrel to his head, then hesitated and holstered the gun. "Nah."
"I think we got off on the wrong foot," the raven-haired woman said mock-cheerfully as she floated into the pilot's seat on her ship. "I'm Ava, Ava Belladonna. What's your name?"
The belter, bound and strapped in tight behind her, gave no answer.
"Matthieu, was it?" she prodded in the same tone of voice. "I think I heard your friend call you Matthieu. I'm gonna call you that, okay?"
"I not gonna talk to you, wupo!"
"Witch? Really? Oh, you're not still pissed about Lumina, are you?" Ava rolled her eyes as she started the undocking procedure. "You are! You're still pissed about Lumina! Come on, under the terms of the contract-"
"The terms of the contract." Matthieu snorted derisively. "Belta build your dream, and what da belt get for it? Whole lotta dead belta, you Remnalowda live on yous fancy new station and we get nothing."
Ava raised a gloved finger. "I would like to point out that only a few Remnans live on Lumina. The only way from Remnant to Lumina is through Earth, and I think the Earthers hate us even more than they hate you-"
"The inner hate you, they think you savage like they think belta savage," he shot back with a chuckle. "Belta, we know you rich like inyalowda."
"Right? You lump us in with the inners, they lump us in with your Belters. Between two fires or whatever," she waved a hand dismissively. "Anyway, Lumina. If you look at it that way, we kinda didn't do too well either."
"Wha?" he emoted, confused. "It was bullshit!"
"It was bullshit," Ava agreed. "I could go on with a comparative analysis with the role of slaves in the colonization of the Americas and the treatment of Faunus after the Great War, but I never actually finished my degree. So let's just go with… bullshit."
"Fuck yourself." It seemed he didn't have a better response.
"Not with you around," Ava quipped. She scanned the instruments, then tapped in a few instructions and pushed the thrust lever forward. The drive roared to life, building up twelve g of acceleration in a few seconds. "Whoo, gotta love that Epstein Drive! So damn smooth."
Her prisoner didn't answer, being too busy struggling to not pass out. She kept it up for a few seconds more before backing off to a more reasonable 1-g burn. Still harsh for a Belter, but nothing for a Remnan or even and Earther.
"You have your own system, why you no go there?"
Ava smiled grimly. "Believe me, we would if we could. Thing is, after we had that little conflict on Earth in the mid 21st century, they've been a little reluctant to trade us the kinds of things we need to conquer the stars."
"Inner no care about anyone but inner," the belter snapped.
"I know!" She paused and laughed. "Still hasn't stopped us, though, only slowed us down. You seen the proposals for the Kingdom-class ships?"
"Of course not!"
"So the idea is to toss a nuke out the back and let the explosion push the ship forward," Ava explained, demonstrating with her hands. "They think they can get a good ten or twenty thousand kilometers/second before someone or something breaks, maybe more with smaller nukes or a better pusher plate."
"Dat pagal!"
She nodded. "That's why there's a bunch of us orbiting Neptune instead of colonizing what's left of our moon. And yeah, belters built it, and belters played a big part in getting us there. But our homeworld is trying to kill us, and space isn't any easier. I mean, have you ever tried navigating a debris field with a nuclear thermal rocket?"
"Kessler must be a bitch for you, huh?" Matthieu jabbed with a laugh. "But this is you problem, not me problem."
"I guess I was trying find common ground, you know? Belters got it hard, so do Remnans." She shrugged. "Earth may be fucked, but it's still habitable enough for thirty billion. Mars needs domes now, but some day it won't. Remnant may have a breathable atmosphere, but it's just as deadly as the Belt. Only, there's not a fucking thing we can do about the Grimm, but out here we can at least try. Or so some say."
Her prisoner said nothing, just spat.
"Well, it's the devil's bargain anyway," Ava dismissed. "I've heard just about every variant of 'oh, it's so ironic that Remnans are so great in space but they can't get there', but in the end, joke's on us. Turns out space hates us just as much as it hates you. Remnan biology isn't as great as it turns out to be."
"So you not no need juice to grow, no can go lotsa gee, no take bullet and keep going?" Matthieu asked sarcastically.
"No, that's all true," she answered, taking a deep breath. "Thing is, the last part, Aura, is ninety percent of what makes us different from you. Call it soul magic, some other bullshit, who fuckin' knows, right? What we do know is that its strength varies from person to person. On average, it's lower on Lumina. Okay, maybe just some statistical fluke. But the eggheads did some number crunching, and no, living there is making us weaker generation by generation. Space just doesn't sit well with us. So, over time we're gonna lose it. And who knows what else. Not many people know this, by the way, for obvious reasons."
The man laughed. "And what you do about that?"
"Nothing. Not my fucking problem," Ava said flatly. "I was born on Remnant and I don't plan on having kids. If we go extinct a thousand years from now, fuck it, I'll be long dead."
"You no care at all?" Matthieu spat. "They you imalowda, no?"
"Not really, no," she answered casually. "I take care of me and mine, which is pretty much just me. I hit your station because Lumina paid me. If Belters paid me more, I'd hit Lumina."
Her prisoner scoffed.
Now they were getting to the hard part. Ava chose her words carefully, though she didn't show it. "I'm just doing a job, trying to survive. This is what I'm good at, I go where the money is. Same as you."
"We are nothing alike!" He was furious now. "Da OPA have plans for you. We show you, you no welcome in the Belt. Boom, boom, boom, cut you off. But maybe better you die slowly instead."
Ava smirked. Bingo. "Maybe."
The Belter continued ranting. "Why you tell me all that, huh? If me your enemy, go tell everyone else, huh? You stupid? You just like hear you own voice?"
"Well, here's the thing," Ava said as she grabbed her helmet and locked it down over her head. "You're assuming I ever planned to let you live."
"Oh, fuck."
"Dead men tell no tales." She reached up and flipped a few switches, and air began rushing out of the cockpit. Her prisoner gasped for breath, his death throes quickly becoming inaudible as the pressure dropped.
Ava could never stand the silence of vacuum. She'd have to keep the ship depressurized for a while to be sure, but in the meantime she confirmed her course back to Lumina and queued up some old Earth music.
Country roads, take me home…
