Chapter 14
Rosarita stared Blake down with an intensity that would have worried Horst had they not just saved her life. Or more likely, he reasoned as he scanned the corpses in front of the armed woman, aided in her defense. The shopkeeper was clearly no slouch when it came to taking lives. That explained one reason for Blake's defensive body language and narrowed eyes. The other was likely the fact that this woman clearly knew Blake, and the way she addressed Blake familiarly was another worrisome factor. Blake's hand never strayed far from Gambol Shroud, though she did push Yang away from her slightly, separating herself from the blonde's protective embrace. Yang slowly turned to face Rosarita as well, and together the five faced down the lonesome ex-assassin.
"It's been a while Rosarita. Last time I saw you, you were detonating Dust, not selling it." Blake said lowly, her legs bent slightly and ready to throw herself to the side should the conversation turn nasty. Ruby and Weiss inched closer to Horst, trying to put his large form between themselves and the gun in Rosarita's hand. The wolf Faunus did nothing to stop their fidgeting, but instead tossed a razor sharp smirk of her own towards Blake.
"Says the girl who just shot my street with a rocket launcher. Powerful stuff, by the way." The woman scanned the students before her, her gaze lingering on Ruby for a moment before returning to Blake. The reaper shivered as the soulless gaze passed over her, sending a cold nugget of fear deep into her chest. There was nothing standing between this woman and their deaths except her own goals, it seemed. Blake, however, did not seem as affected as her teammates. She rapped a knuckle on Yang's right glove, the light clink of bone on Ember Celica piercing the silence that had settled over the street in the aftermath.
"Actually, that was Yang here. Managed to take out five White Fang enforcers without killing a single one. Not something you seem to be troubled with, but we need information." Blake stared right back at Rosarita. "We need to take Adam down." For once, the cold calculating gaze Rosarita had worn the entire night fractured for a moment, genuine surprise crossing her features before she managed to school her expression once more.
"I see. When did you find out?" Rosarita's cold tone became more subdued, as if she had kept a secret she shouldn't have. RWBY and Horst exchanged looks, before Blake lowered her hand from her blade. Blake's confusion and curiosity seemed to win out, and Rosarita holstered her pistol behind her back as well.
"That Adam was the new leader? I've known since before I left the White Fang. I know you got out before I did, but I assumed it was common knowledge after Leonberger disappeared." Rosarita winced in what Horst assumed was a rare display of sympathy, and she turned away to avoid Blake's gaze.
"That's not what I meant. Clearly, you still don't know. But you have done me a favor, so I will do you one in return: you say you want to topple Adam from the leadership? There's a transport company nearby that just ran afoul of our dear red headed friend. Not only will they know the location of the base, they will also be party to the secret Adam should have sent to the grave." Rosarita turned away and walked back behind the tattered remains of her counter, feet crunching in the dirty mess of dirt, glass, and wood. She bent down and moved a few things around behind the display, concealing all but her canine ears from view of the team. Ruby, Weiss, and Horst put their weapons away, glad that things had not turned violent with this clearly very dangerous woman, but still confused as to what was going on. Rosarita had clearly known Blake from her White Fang days, but what was this secret she mentioned?
"Head down to section four of the docks, in the private sector. Look for the Lagoon Company, they're an honest bunch of people capable of getting things done whether it's legal or not." Rosarita instructed, and the rasp of metal on metal hinted that the woman was collecting armor or weaponry. Not being able to see Rosarita while she armed herself made Horst uneasy, but he did not want to jeopardize their ceasefire by creeping up on the woman.
"What's this secret you're not telling me?" Blake asked hotly, not even sure if she wanted to hear what it was. From Rosarita's behavior, it was clearly something very bad. But what else could there possibly be? They already knew that the White Fang was acting as muscle for the secret group Roman and the strange woman in the red dress belonged to. What could be so shocking that a cold woman like Rosarita couldn't stand to reveal it? The implications made Blake's stomach sink, but she retained her fierce demand even as Rosarita stood up.
"It's not my place to say. Lagoon Company had one of their own grievously injured finding out this information. If you are after Adam, they will likely not only reveal the location of the base and Adam's secret, but they may even take you there as a method of indirect revenge." Rosarita slung two heavy rifle bags over her shoulders, then hefted a large trunk full of what was likely Dust and ammunition. "It is also for the best that I not be present when you find out, because I have known the whole time. It's part of the reason why I left the White Fang." With little more than that, Rosarita gathered her accumulated weaponry and packs and stepped toward the door, avoiding the corpses and debris in her way almost subconsciously, as if she had done it many times before. And maybe she had. Just as she stepped past Horst, Rosarita stopped next to Blake and looked down at her with those cold, merciless eyes. Blake returned the look with a mixture of confusion and empathy, because she knew the road ahead of Rosarita better than anyone else in the room.
"Blake, when you hear what Lagoon has to say...don't hate him. That kind of hatred will only burn you from the inside out." Instead of waiting for a reply from the shocked girl and her team, the wolf Faunus walked right past them with the poise of a woman on a night on the town, not someone who had just killed six men. Horst and Ruby walked toward the door to follow her out, while Weiss just watched. Blake didn't turn around, too focused on the strange advice and Yang too occupied on comforting her partner. The blonde looped an arm around Blake' shoulders and turned her gently toward the door.
"Well, let's get moving. The police will be here soon, and I don't think we need Ozpin breaking us out of jail." Horst said, and stepped out the door. "Come on girls. Yang, you're the most familiar with downtown. Take us to Lagoon." Weiss joined Yang at Blake's side, and together the two led their stricken teammate out the door.
Once they reached the street, the cool air and faint sound of sirens in the distance snapped Blake out of her trance. Rosarita's presence brought back memories of the struggle, the fight, the uprising she had been deluded into supporting for years, and Blake was ready to hear the reason why. Why a stone cold killer had suddenly departed everything she had murdered to defend. Why Blake would hate the man that she had been partners with since they'd were kids? Sure, he led the White Fang into the terrible mutated beast that it was, but that was no reason to hate him. So driven by his goals, he had been twisted by the cruel world they lived in. If anything, Adam deserved her pity. But for some reason, the scariest killer in Vale thought that whatever these delivery people had discovered was going to set her off. And Blake intended to find out why.
After slipping further into the docks, it was not difficult to find the Lagoon Company personal dock. It was a sheet metal construction two stories high, with a relatively normal green metal door at the top of a flight of metal steps. A light burned brightly next to the door, with moths flocking to its golden touch. Above the door, two dirty windows peeked outward toward the city, and between them the words Lagoon Company were painted in white block letters. Horst removed his helmet before he climbed the steps, willing to try the open face diplomacy if it meant finding out about Adam, and maybe even Leonberger. Behind him, Ruby and the others hid behind several concrete barriers, just in case things went sour. If these people were recommended by someone like Rosarita, it was likely they had killed a person or two.
(Warning: The crew of the Black Lagoon have led harmful, traumatic lives plagued by death and betrayal at every turn. Their language will reflect that.)
Horst knocked on the door firmly, rapping his armored knuckles on the door three times in rapid succession. The team huddled behind the two dividers, Bumblebee on one side and White Rose on the other. Horst stood at the door for a moment, listening intently for any reaction on the other side. After a few seconds, Horst could barely pick up the sound of footsteps behind the metal door. Discreetly, he wished that he had ditched the armor, but White Fang presence in the area made that kind of move a bad idea. All he could do was hope that the metal giant from Mars didn't look too threatening. When the door opened, a blonde man with glasses and a ponytail stood in the doorway. A day and a half of scruffy beard clung to his chin, and despite the cool night sweat dotted his forehead. The man wore khaki pants and an orange vacation shirt (there's no such thing as Hawaii on Remnant, so I can't say Hawaiian shirt) with brown sandals. When he set eyes on Horst's scarred face and gleaming armor, the blonde man gritted his teeth and stepped back slightly.
"Is there something I can help you with?" His clipped tone and strained expression indicated that the man clearly didn't believe that there was, but Horst held up his hands in a disarming manner. There was no point in starting off on the wrong foot with the people that might help them out.
"I'm sorry to bother you this late at night, but there was a woman that told us you could help." Horst said slowly, and kept his hands visible to show the man he meant no harm. "She said that you guys had just been betrayed by the White Fang, and we came looking to take advantage of that." Horst chose those words purposefully; a little honesty on the front end might get them somewhere. When the blonde man heard that, he frowned even more and looked beyond Horst to see RWBY hiding behind the concrete partitions. Once they saw that they were spotted, the girls stood up slightly from cover and waved, though Weiss looked as if she thought the whole hiding thing was absurd. The various bullet holes on the dock's side of the concrete partitions said otherwise, but Ruby had made the call to get behind cover. Best teammate ever, and all that jazz.
"I appreciate your candor. However, we're in a bit of a jam right now. If you are after the White Fang, we don't need to be anywhere near you. We've shed enough blood because of those racist bastards." The man's grip on the door tightened, but he seemed to think better of slamming the door in Horst's face. Not that the Titan would think less of him for it, but they were pressed for time.
"Just out of curiosity, who is this lady you mentioned?" The blonde man asked, and Horst's friendly aura dimmed to one of grim admittance. His shoulders lowered marginally, and his easy smile turned into a thin line of steel.
"Rosarita Cisneros. We helped her fight off a squad of White Fang enforcers roughly twenty minutes ago." Horst muttered. As soon as the man heard the wolf Faunus' name, his eyes grew to be as wide as saucers, and his breath caught in his throat. Horst remained standing where he was, not moving closer or further away to give the poor man time to process what he had said. Behind him, team RWBY slunk out from behind their cover, as it seemed their inadvertent contact had done her job.
"Come inside, quickly." The blonde man said, a high note in his voice as it cracked from his sudden onset of anxiety. Horst turned toward the girls and nodded his head towards the door, and the five of them filed in quickly before the blonde man shut the door quickly. An uncomfortable amount of locks clicked, slid, and fastened shut before the blonde man turned around again to face them. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, then shakily offered the other to Horst.
"My name's Benny. If Roberta thought you were worth referring to us, I'll at least let you talk to Dutch. Can't go turning the Bloodhound down like that; it'd be bad for my health." Horst grasped Benny's hand and shook it once, releasing it and allowing the blonde man to lead the way upstairs. A closed metal staircase led upstairs to what looked like an open den, and when Horst cleared the wall, he got a good look at the room. Several mismatched leather chairs and a couch sat around a weathered glass and wooden coffee table, which was covered in loaded ash trays and bloodied rags. On the wall was a bulletin board covered in photos, invoices, and scattered tabloid newspapers. Two separate hallways led elsewhere into the building, but it was clear all of Lagoon Company was in the room. The first, and most noticeable, was a bald, black man nearly Horst's size. The man wore circular sunglasses on silver frames, and a white tank top covered by a sleeveless green flak jacket. His muscular arms were crossed in front of him as he angrily burned through a cigarette, clearly one of many that had dangled above his black, neatly trimmed beard. A pair of black cargo pants and old style combat boots rounded out his outfit, and his posture hinted that he was the man in charge.
The second visible person in the room seemed much more unhinged. A woman with a black tank top that stopped above her belly and dark red, almost purple hair sat next to the couch, not even looking up as the six of them climbed the stairs. Her left arm sported a tribal tattoo that danced from her elbow up her shoulder and almost across her neck, and a pair of leather shoulder holsters sat at her armpits. Her long, slender legs were exposed by what Horst could only call a very short pair of cut off jeans, and an unlaced pair of combat boots similar to the larger man's covered her feet. The woman's hair was tied in a ponytail, and both her bangs and her position shielded her eyes from view as she sat leaning over the couch, where it was clear a third person was bedridden by the bloodied rags clutched in her fingerless gloves and the wrinkled sheet that covered the man's form.
Horst and RWBY climbed the stairs behind Benny quickly, fanning out along the bare wall so that the occupants of the room didn't get nervous about unseen guests. Upon hearing their many footsteps, the large black man turned around slowly.
"Benny, who did you bring in this time?" The man asked, his deep voice smooth and unfazed even as his crew member lay bleeding mere feet away from him. His demeanor and the way his brow furrowed almost instinctively told Horst that this man was probably a seasoned veteran, likely the Faunus War by his age. The way he remained calm even as the other two ambulatory members of his crew were deeply troubled spoke of his steel.
"Roberta's shop was attacked tonight. These guys helped her fight off the White Fang and she sent them here for information." Benny managed to keep his voice level, but it was a near thing Horst could tell. Rosarita had clearly used several names, since Benny recognized her real name yet used the other one, 'Roberta', in casual speech. Whatever the reason that Benny had been nervous mentioning the woman, the black man felt the same judging by the way his shoulders tightened up.
"That crazy bitch is still fighting them, even after we delivered that shipment. She hasn't changed much." The man rubbed the back of his head and heaved a sigh, his eyes still invisible behind the glasses he wore. "I can only think of one thing she sent you here for, if all she said was 'information'." Horst stepped forward to the man, holding a hand out in offering. The man took it, impressing Horst with the strength in his grip. They shook once, before Horst's hand returned to his side and the black man crossed his arms again.
"I'm Horst, and these are my students. Ms. Cisneros said that one of yours was injured attaining some pivotal piece of intelligence." Horst's eyes wandered to the man mostly hidden by sheets and the woman's hunched form. "I'm guessing that's him." A weak twitch of the toes beneath the sheet indicated that the injured man heard, but the gunslinging woman caring for him wordlessly grabbed his hand in reassurance. There was tension in her strained, hunched form that made Horst uneasy; the woman seemed as if she were a wild animal, a cornered dog crouching over its pack member waiting for a invitation to bite. The black man followed Horst's gaze with his own, and nodded once.
"Most people just call me Dutch, and yeah. That's him. That guy Adam Taurus is a cold bastard, for sure." Dutch's tone clearly indicated that he held no respect for the leader of the White Fang. "We were doing business with the White Fang, more through our associate Roman Torchwick than anything. Rock found something Taurus didn't want him to see, and the Faunus bastard ran him through." Behind Horst, Blake stiffened when she heard that, appalled as another of many sins heaped itself onto Adam's soul. What had been so important that Adam had tried to kill someone just to keep it a secret? Yang noticed her partner's reaction, and the blonde moved slightly closer as a sign of support. If Blake noticed, she didn't react.
"Revy and Rock know more about it than anything. But after that red haired asshole stuck it to Rock, it was everything we could do to shoot our way out of their hideout." Benny supplied, throwing in his two cents as he walked around Ruby's group and found a seat in the chair next to the couch. If the woman, Revy, noticed his presence, there was no reaction to it. She just kept staring silently downward at her injured teammate.
"Yeah, and as you can see, Revy isn't in a talking mood, and the sword nicked Rock's lung. He can talk, but it takes a lot out of him." Dutch said with another heavy sigh. "I'm not entirely clear on the details, but apparently Rock found out one hell of a dirty little secret that the White Fang would rather leave buried. Or maybe, Taurus would rather leave unknown from the rest of the White Fang." The topic clearly caused Dutch some discomfort, because the leader of Lagoon pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from a pocket on his flak jacket and placed one in his mouth. A flip lighter came from another pocket, and soon the room began to smell of burning tobacco. Weiss' nose wrinkled at the odor, but she didn't say anything. Blake, however, was more than fed up with all the running around these people were doing.
"What did he find out? What was it that Adam was trying to hide?" Blake's questions were insistent, not to the point of rudeness but very clear that she was desperate to know exactly what her old partner had tried to keep hidden from the world. Dutch and Benny both looked away from the bow wearing Huntress, but her questions caused Revy to stir.
"What's your name, little girl?" Her voice was raspy and sinister, likely a result of a life around cigarettes, gun smoke, and more than enough liquor for one woman. Blake's eyes switched to the sitting woman's form instantly, and she turned to face the gunslinger.
"Blake. Blake Belladonna." The Faunus student supplied. "Rosarita said that I needed to know what you found out. She said that it was important, and why she left the White Fang. Please," Blake pleaded, "I need to know." Her response seemed to invoke some dark humor in Revy, as the woman started to slowly chuckle mirthlessly from her position near her injured comrade, Dutch and Benny stiffened. It was not the kind of laughter the girls in the room were accustomed to. This was the defiant and helpless cry of someone that the world had shamefully torn apart from a young age, and she was howling insurrection back at it as the darkness failed to snuff her out. And yet, she seemed so vulnerable, turning almost uncomfortably to prevent from leaving her spot at her partner's side.
"Here's the little kitty cat scratching at the door, wanting mamma Revy to give her what she wants. I'm not telling you shit." Revy turned back to watching over Rock. "You think you can drop some crazy bitch's name and get all the information you want. Respect is like money: you gotta earn it, and right now you ain't worth my fucking time." Her response clearly incited Yang, who stepped forward toward the stationary gunslinger.
"Hey, you can't just-" Yang was stopped by Blake's arm in front of her, her limiting limb stopping Yang from stepping forward and striking the woman that sat on the coffee table. The blonde looked over at her teammate in confusion, but Blake's eyes were focused on Revy's hand. The gunslinger had placed it on her holster already, daring Yang to step forward any further. Yang had never even seen her hand move.
"Careful there, titan tits. You won't be too useful if I give you a second asshole." It was less of a threat and more the statement of fact, and the guns that sat on each side of the woman's chest were nothing to joke about. Yang was clearly confident that she could handle the woman sitting on the table, but Blake wasn't willing to risk a fight with the people that could help them. Thankfully, another voice, weak and raspy from injury and disuse, spoke up from the couch. Blake managed to pick it up, but it seemed the only other person in the room to acknowledge it was Revy.
"You said your name...was Belladonna?" Rock's voice came from behind the gunslinger hunched form, and she turned around to look at him. The upstarts brats were forgotten, no longer a part of the world as her partner stirred in pain. She stood slightly from her seat on the coffee table and patted his shoulder insistently.
"Dammit Rock, you idiot! You should be resting, not stirring up more trouble." She chastised him harshly, or so it seemed to the people in the room not a part of Lagoon. Only Dutch and Rock had the vantage point to see the stricken expression on Revy's face, the look of fearful anxiety as she tended to his wounds with feverish tenacity. As she moved slightly, Ruby could finally see the man Revy had been doting on ever since they had come in: a skinny, pale man with a smooth complexion and short brown hair, though his bangs were long enough to cover his eyes. His shirt had been removed, exposing a thin physique with a blotched, bloody bandage on the right side of his chest. His skin was slick with sweat, and a few red-brown patches of color on the white sheets at chest level indicated that he had bled from that wound for some time, to be relentlessly tended by the woman hovering above him. If Revy's reaction was anything to go on, his words were the only ones in the world that mattered.
"If her name...is Belladonna..." Rock's breathing was labored, and both his voice and his brow strained from the pain of speaking. "She needs to know. Tell her...please Revy." Rock coughed weakly after that, a dribble of blood trailing down from his mouth to his chin. The gunslinger stopped to blood trail before it reached his shoulder, blocking its path and coloring her finger crimson with his blood. After wiping it up gently with a cloth, Revy turned and stood up to face Horst, Blake, and the others. Rock's words seemed to chase the irritable bitch out of her; instead, only the dull eyed expression of a murderer far past redemption remained. She crossed the room wordlessly, stepping past Yang and Horst until she stood eye to eye with Blake. Revy was a short woman, by all accounts, but she was still tall enough to lock her dead brown eyes with Blake's own yellow orbs.
"The only reason I haven't kicked you all out of this fucking building is because Rock wants there to be some use of the precious little secret he found out. So listen up, goth girl, because I'm not going to repeat myself." Revy pulled a cigarette from her front pocket, the single stick magically whole from being confined in a pair of shorts such as hers. The gunslinger stuck the unlit cigarette in her mouth and kept it there, never breaking eye contact with Blake as she did so.
"While we were offloading our cargo – a couple of big ass mech suits these assholes stole from Atlas some time ago – Rock got suspicious about how Taurus had climbed to the top of the food chain with the White Fang. I told him that it wasn't our fucking business, but he insisted. So he starts looking around the areas they let us roam around in, and manages to find a beat up journal that was almost burned up." A match from her other pocket was struck on one of the grips of Revy's pistols, and she lit the cigarette in her mouth with a few puffs before shaking the match out. The gunslinger took a long drag on her tobacco before blowing the smoke directly into Blake's face, to see if she would flinch. The Faunus girl winced slightly, but other than that was unfazed.
"The journal apparently belonged to none other than Roger fuckin' Leonberger himself. Apparently, a certain someone had been keeping it for blackmail or some other such bullshit, and decided to get rid of it once it wasn't needed any more. And you know what Rock found out in that little devil diary? The true events of what happened at the last White Fang rally before that red headed cocksucker Taurus stepped in. The day your parents were killed." If Revy took joy in Blake's widened eyes, she only showed it in a baring of teeth. "Didn't you think it was convenient that the shit stain was there to pick up the pieces after they died? How the two biggest supporters of Leonberger, your parents, were both killed in a bombing by unknown attackers? You think a bunch of racist humans had more to gain by blowing your mommy and daddy to the moon than the sick son of a bitch that is leading them now?"
Blake stepped back from Revy, but the gunslinger followed relentlessly. She wouldn't let the little brat deny it. That would go against the blood Rock had spilled, the bullets she had thrown into White Fang bodies, and that was un-fucking-acceptable. Step for step, every retreating foot Blake pulled back, Revy put forward. Ruby and Weiss went to support their teammate, maybe even separate the two from their stare down, but a curt look from Horst killed their attempts before they ever happened. Yang could only watch, paralyzed, as Blake received the revelation of her life.
"Leonberger had lost the last of his support, and everything he had done to convince the White Fang to be the olive branch, white dove peace pussies went up in the blast. With the Belladonnas gone, Taurus had martyrs for his cause, and Leonberger had no moves left. He stepped down, and the fuck face with the sword took over." Revy took another long drag on the cigarette, its white length converting to ash quickly as the burning end raced towards her lips. "Rock, being the crazy dumbass that his is, went straight to Taurus about it. Asked him how he could stand to delude the White Fang into fighting a war he had created, and for what purpose. As soon as he knew Rock had found the journal, that sword wielding faggot ran his blade right through Rock. After that, I put a few rounds in his arm and we ran. Dutch blew a hole in their little hideout, and we drove out of there like bats out of hell. That's your fucking intel."
Revy dropped the spent cigarette and ground it to ash with her heel, before walking away from Blake to return to Rock's side. A few gentle pats and a grip on his wrist reassured her that he was still alive, and Revy relaxed marginally. Blake, however, was unaware of the world around her, her eyes clouded and unfocused as she struggled to process the things Revy had said. Adam had been behind her parents' deaths? The man that had guided her, trained her, LOVED her in their fight for equality? Where was the justice in that, the righteousness that he had spoken of for so long?! But even as denial raced through Blake's mind, the little pieces began to fall into place: Adam's arguments with Leonberger that ran deep into the night; the constant dissent that Adam showed toward their leader, even when they were making progress; the snide remarks Adam had made whenever they were treating wounds after a demonstration gone bad.
"How can you forgive the ones that killed your parents, Blake? Don't they deserve justice?" It had been one of the last things he had said to her before their final mission, when she had departed after seeing his ruthless side. He had been playing her from the very beginning, trying to shape her into another human hating automaton that followed his every order in the name of Faunus supremacy and human genocide. Blake wrestled with the brewing emotions that threatened to overflow within her: the renewed pain of her parents' death, the shock of knowing who was responsible, the rage and betrayal directed at Adam. All of it tore her apart, and she did the only thing she knew to do: she ran.
Blake was down the stairs and out the door before anyone else could do anything about it, but Horst saw it coming. He turned to Yang quickly, knowing who it was that Blake trusted on the team more than anything.
"Yang, go after her! You're the only one she'll listen to right now." He barked. Yang nodded resolutely, and sent one last scathing glare toward Revy's back before dashing down the stairs as well. When she stepped out the open door, Yang looked left and right for any sign of her partner, and only the trailing ribbon behind a shipping crate told her where Blake had gone. The ribbon disappeared as the Faunus continued to run, and Yang sprinted after it as fast as she could.
"Blake, wait!" She cried, pumping her legs as fast as she could to catch up. The ribbon that trailed from Gambol Shroud grew closer steadily as Blake ran through a maze of shipping containers, leading Yang deeper into the shipyard as she cried. As Yang continued to gain on her partner, taking a turn particularly sharp and almost missing the ribbon, it was almost easier for her to follow the tear drops that stained the gray concrete black. It was a forlorn thought that hovered in Yang's mind as she followed the miniature pools of water to an open container, where barely contained sobs could be heard. The small pools of darkness led her to the pitch black metal container that Blake had run to, hiding behind wooden crates of who knows what as she clutched her knees. Yang stepped forward cautiously, unsure of what to do as she approached her stricken teammate. Blake had always been so sure of herself, so determined to right the wrongs of the world in a quest for destiny and truth. Yet as Yang knelt down next to her, all Blake appeared to be was a frightened child.
"I'm here Blake." Yang said softly. She held off for a moment, waiting for Blake's reaction, but the Faunus showed no change in behavior. She just continued to sob her heart out. And so, Yang leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her partner, whispering that everything would be okay over and over. And all Blake could do was cry.
While Yang dealt with the stricken Blake, Ruby and the others remained in the Lagoon Company dock. Dutch and Benny watched the two girls run out with mixed expressions of sadness and resignation. They had no right to chastise Revy for her harsh words. Even though the gunslinger had no idea about the relationship between Blake and Adam, she deserved her piece for what had happened to Rock. They all did, but only Revy had been callous enough to deliver that biting speech. Horst stood with his eyes closed, processing the new information as he clenched and unclenched his fists. They had definitely found out useful information, but without any sort of proof there was little they could do with it.
"I don't suppose you held onto this journal, by chance?" Horst tried after a few moments of silence. Benny shook his head, and Dutch adjusted his glasses with a frown.
"Unfortunately not. Our plans are to leave Vale permanently and head back to home port. A burned up old book didn't seem important when we were busting out of their hideout, guns blazing. It got lost after Taurus stabbed Rock – it's probably at the bottom of the ocean by now." Dutch said coarsely, taking another drag on his cigarette before butting it out in an ash tray on the coffee table. Horst winced at that – they would just sound like raving lunatics if they challenged Adam publicly with no proof. Without the journal, the only other lead they had was the White Fang hideout, and they were likely packing up even then. A rattling laugh came from the couch, followed by quiet scolding from Revy as Rock attempted to sit up. The young man managed to get an elbow underneath him and turn onto his weak side, but both the effort required and the pain that shot up from his wound made sure that was as far as he was going.
"It would be difficult to remove Taurus from leadership...if you didn't have any proof." Rock said quietly, but a sly grin crossed his features even despite his obvious discomfort. "But I bet if Revy digs into my shirt pocket, she'll find something that would help you all." The mentioned gunslinger stopped trying to push him back down and growled at his words. Even with a hole going all the way through him, Rock was determined to play his games.
"You'd get killed by a toddler if you thought it would feed him for a fucking day." She muttered at a volume only Rock could hear, and the pained smile he sent back did little to affect her mood. However, Revy did as he asked and reached underneath the coffee table, where a bloodstained white button up shirt had been callously thrown onto the ground earlier, most likely when they had first arrived. When she turned it around to face the front towards her, Revy found a torn and weathered piece of paper, as if it had been pulled from an old book. Revy's eyes danced across the pages for a moment before she held it out towards Horst.
"Here, Jumbo. Take it and get it out of my sight." She snarled. Horst stepped forward and pulled the page from her hands, his eyes dancing across the neat and small handwriting of the White Fang's founder. In this journal entry, Leonberger lamented how far Adam had gone to attain power. The man went on to write that it was hunger for power such as this that prevented equality between humans and Faunus, and that craving would drown the White Fang in an ocean of blood. There was more to it, but there was enough to confirm what Rock had told them and compare the handwriting to another sample later. It was definitely more than they had, and the Lagoon crew had suffered to obtain it. Rosarita's tip had just paid off.
"We appreciate this, and I speak for the whole team on that. Blake is upset, but she's the type that would rather know the truth than live in ignorance." Horst realized that upset was a severe understatement, but they needed to be going. The White Fang were vulnerable while they picked up the pieces from Lagoon's escape. "I hate to ask anything else from you guys, but just point us in the direction of the White Fang base, and we'll go have a cleaning party. We'll even put in a few hits for you." Benny and Dutch looked at each other, doing that silent communication that occurs between people that have worked together for a long time. The two stared at each other for some time, then Benny sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his head. Dutch turned and looked at Horst, a slight grimace twisting his beard sideways.
"With the White Fang out for blood, we're going to have to leave Vale anyway. I can't move Rock until he heals a bit, so we're stuck between leaving and staying. Revy won't go anywhere without Rock, so we don't have as much muscle either." The black man ran a critical eye over Horst, Ruby, and Weiss. The Titan and Ruby's scythe seemed to pass his inspection, though he paused on Weiss. "If you provided the difference and a little bit of cash, I can do better than show you their base. I can take you to it."
Horst's eyes widened in surprise, and he quickly held up his hands. There was no reason for Lagoon to risk their lives for Horst and the others, particularly when it came to a dirty organization like the White Fang. Before he could deny the offer or even make an excuse as to why they wouldn't take it, Weiss walked over to the window and looked down into the dock, where a black torpedo boat sat. It was clearly an older model, likely very similar to what Dutch had piloted during the war. It was armored all across the upper deck and above the waterline, and was likely thicker beneath it as well. It was painted matte black, but the things that attracted the most attention were the four torpedoes that sat in their launchers, two to a side. Weiss examined the boat for a moment, then turned to look at Dutch.
"How much do those torpedoes cost?"
It was somewhat funny to see Oobleck toss his carefully noted and packed camping supplies into a single corner of the cargo bay. Be it far from Spirit to make fun of a man for thinking ahead, but the accommodations on the Infinite Sky far outstripped anything he could have rolled into his backpack and sleeping mat. JNPR's stuff found its way into a secured chest that Spirit had scavenged from the Cosmodrome back on Earth, a silver crate with a green light that indicated it was locked. Pyrrha and Jaune were the only ones toting backpacks, and their cumbersome loads were deposited in the chest for safe keeping. Ren and Nora had opted to give the leading pair the pack mule status, as their packs were much smaller and largely filled with ammunition. In Nora's case, there was also a disturbing pack of energy drinks.
With the Infinite Sky flying high above them, JNPR set out into the ruined city of Mountain Glenn with Dr. Oobleck and Spirit supporting them. The once prosperous colony had been reduced to crumbled buildings and whispering streets, with nothing moving except for an inordinate amount of Grimm. Of course, the team was working on that worrisome nuisance.
A pack of Beowulfs had decided to try and eat the Huntsmen and Huntresses in training, and had perished in the effort. Spirit and Oobleck merely sat back and watched as the team went to work, Ren and Nora branching off to split their foes up while Pyrrha and Jaune went back to back, turning what started as a circle of howling wolves into a steep pile of corpses without much effort. Pyrrha and Jaune put the skills from their late night training sessions to good work, moving with cooperation and almost supernatural cohesion as they covered each other's blind spots quickly and effectively. Where Jaune's shield failed to cover his side completely, Pyrrha's sword was ready to deflect the blow and retaliate. If the warrior goddess' strikes left her open to attack, Jaune's bulwark of a kite shield would withstand whatever came at them, and his gleaming blade would end the next strike before it started.
Ren and Nora opted for a different strategy: Ren would shoot down as many foes as he could, leaping from buildings and crumbling statues as he led the Grimm on a savage run. Once he had whittled down the pack somewhat, he guided them straight into the path of Nora's hammer. Magnhild sent Beowulfs flying with every swing, and any that sought to take advantage of the orange haired woman's swings found multiple rounds in their skull courtesy of Ren's Storm Flower.
Spirit and Oobleck were content to sit and watch, the doctor examining the area for signs of any White Fang activity while Spirit watched the melee go down. As it stood, she was impressed with the kids and their ability to cut swaths through enemy lines. Granted, these foes weren't using tanks or guns or anything other than claws, teeth, and animal savagery, but it was clear that a legion of Hive Thrall would be easy picking for this team. That appraisal was generous, Spirit felt, coming from her. Horst had sung praises for the students in his reports back to Earth, according to Cayde and the others, but to see the kids in action was entirely different. Horst's recruitment cause had more merit to it with each passing day.
After JNPR handled everything in the area that was soulless and wore a mask, Spirit and Oobleck took over looking for clues on White Fang involvement. Almost immediately, Hope found some faded tracks left by leather boots, though they were incomplete and did not lead anywhere. It did show them an area of operations, however, and a few spent shell casings indicated that it was likely the White Fang. Toward the center of the city, Spirit began to notice smaller streets and what used to be larger buildings. The Hunter had been scrounging through ruins just like this all her life, and something seemed off about Mountain Glenn. It was clearly a bustling population center in its time, judging by the number of restaurants, office buildings, and a wide variety of other buildings in the area. Here and there were what looked like stairways that led downward, presumably to a subway. With creatures like the Grimm running around, Spirit knew that descending into those depths without reason was a good way to waste ammo.
After roughly six hours of fighting and searching, the afternoon sun sank down below the horizon, casting the burned and empty husks of buildings into golden light as it reached through their windows and doorways. To Spirit, it was a nauseating sight: to see signs of bustling human life, empty and purged of the bustling businessmen, the cheerful children, and weary mothers walking down the streets about their daily lives. There were no graves, no relatives, no sign that these people had been there. As sunlight licked at the insides and outsides of the buildings that surrounded them, Spirit's chest grew tight. For Guardians, death was a certainty: you knew that peace would not be something you would ever see when you accepted your Ghost. But to be forgotten, with no memory of testament that you had ever existed... that was the oblivion that all Guardians feared. To see it happen to a whole city left a stale taste in the Hunter's mouth.
JNPR and Spirit went through the area one last time before calling it a night, and Spirit had the Infinite Sky land in the broken and bitter remains of a burger joint. The large star ship had little trouble fitting into the broken and mangled plot of concrete, though the last wall standing fell after the landing struts deployed. As the engines wound down, the cargo bay door lowered and allowed for JNPR, Spirit, and Oobleck to embark safely. Nora practically skipped into the ship, but a long day of fighting every Beowulf, Ursa, and whatever those lizard ones were called had drained the energy from Jaune, Pyrrha, and Ren. Spirit wasn't tired largely due to her Light's regenerative abilities, but the experience had been tedious for her as well. Dr. Oobleck was predictably ready for another run, but the man probably took coffee intravenously so screw him. Spirit stayed back and raised the cargo bay door while the others walked into the living quarters, and she could faintly hear Pyrrha call first dibs on the shower. Jaune instructed Ren and Nora to go next, that he would be the last on the team to take one just to make sure they were taken care of. Dr. Oobleck said nothing in regards to his hygiene needs, but Spirit knew he would probably grab a quick shower after the team was done. The prospect of sharing a shower with a group of teenagers and a caffeine addict didn't appeal to Spirit, but it was better than having stinky passengers all over the Infinite Sky.
When the bay closed, Spirit reached up and removed her helmet, shaking her short hair free of its confines as she set it down on her work table. The table was covered in small holes that Hope could materialize pegs to organize things with at a moments' notice, and there were small recessions in the table surface to allow for small parts like screws and latches if she were deconstructing a weapon. Above the work bench, several weapons hung up in pristine condition. Two pulse rifles painted orange and blue with the Vanguard's signature 'V' colored in blue, white, and black sat on one side, with an empty rack for Thorn next to them. Above the rifles and Thorn's rightful place, the crown jewel of Spirit's arsenal sat waiting patiently for her to call it to her again. A rocket launcher massive in size, it was painted white and gold with a black tube. Wolf crests very similar to the one that spread across her chest plate adorned the head of the scope and the grips, colored in gold and hardened for bashing things. More golden carving dotted the tube and body casing of the launcher, but otherwise it was painted white in swirling designs. The tube separated its upper and lower parts, a scope and magazine well covering the top while a lower construction very similar to a rifle in its design sat on the bottom. It was the Gjallarhorn, and if Spirit ever called for it, there would be something seriously wrong.
The Hunter took down one of the pulse rifles and looked it over, running her thumb absently over the orange finish as she thought about it. Jaune was wearing Guardian armor sans the helmet, but he still only equipped himself with his hand-me-down sword and shield combo. If he was going to be an effective Huntsman, and perhaps later Guardian, he was going to need options. And it wasn't like Spirit didn't have guns laying around all over the place anyway. The Apple of Discord was a decent piece for him. Nodding to herself, Spirit pulled the weapon from its pegs and slung it over her shoulder as she walked toward the metal stairs, leading upward into the living quarters.
As she walked into the room, Jaune had removed his armor and was cleaning it dutifully on the couch, running a white cloth across the surface of the metal plates meticulously as he waited his turn for a shower. He had separated his under suit like Horst often did, with the upper portion separated at the waist and opened up in front to look like a jacket. His gold colors and red highlights looked good on the blonde teen, and the attention he showed the armor Horst had granted him showed that he greatly appreciated the gift. Nora and Ren had disassembled their weapons and were cleaning them as well, and Ren had a spare outfit hanging up in the bunk room from what Spirit could see. Evidently, a Beowulf had gotten close enough to tear the tails on his Chinese style jacket or whatever it was called, but he was clearly prepared for this unfortunate outcome. Nora was fidgeting with the cylinder on Magnhild, which was giving her trouble rotating. The orange haired girl hummed to herself in high spirits even so, and was not fazed in the slightest that the weapon was being difficult. She had it handled.
"Hey Jaune." Spirit said out loud, and all three turned to look at her, not just Jaune. The blonde boy set down the chest plate he was polishing and stood up, looking at her questioningly.
"Yeah, Professor? What's up?" He asked, his eyes lingering on the Apple of Discord on her shoulder. Spirit didn't answer, but rather tossed the weapon toward him. Jaune didn't expect that, but he managed to catch it regardless, hugging the weapon to his chest as he awkwardly wrapped his arms around it.
"You need a long range option. As leader of your team, you need to be flexible and capable of handling any situation. Ren, Nora, and Pyrrha all have weapons that allow them to engage from close range and far away. I know you love Crocea Mors, but you need something else." Spirit explained, and walked around the couch to the stunned blonde and pulled the rifle from his grasp, holding it out in front of him as she ejected the magazine and opened the action, showing him that it was indeed empty.
"This is a pulse rifle, so its standard configuration allows it to fire three rounds every time you pull the trigger. That way, you can fire from far away with decent accuracy, but you can still throw lead at close range too." Spirit pointed to a switch near the trigger guard, and made sure that Jaune saw it before she moved her hand back to the grip. "This is a fire selector. You have three options: burst fire, semi-automatic fire, and safety. If you aren't in combat, it needs to be on safety. Here it the magazine release," she pointed to a small tab that was on either side of the weapon, near where the fire selector was located. "press it whenever you need to change mags. If I ever hear you call a magazine a 'clip', I'll throw your ass out the airlock. Understand?" Jaune looked a little overwhelmed at this crash course in rifle safety, but he hesitantly nodded and took the weapon from her hands.
"Uh...yeah, I guess so. Like this?" Jaune flipped the fire selector from safe to semi, and Spirit nodded. She handed him the magazine, and Jaune clumsily placed it into the magazine well, putting it in backwards at first. Thankfully, the magazine's construction didn't allow it to fit, and he soon corrected himself and ran the mag in soundly, rewarded with a soft click as the mag release caught the magazine. Jaune smiled when the rifle cooperated with him, and he flipped the fire selector back to safe.
"We'll go into maintenance and proper firing technique later, but right now I wanted you to have another option. When we get up tomorrow, I'll show you how to use it properly. Traveler knows there are enough targets around here." Spirit huffed, her golden eyes avoiding the blonde's as she crossed her arms. She was used to being the cold hearted bitch, but Horst had been right about the kids: they grew on you.
"Thank you so much, professor. But I gotta ask, why have you and Horst decided to give me these things? It's not that I don't appreciate them, but I don't understand why I'm getting all this." Jaune tried not to sound petulant as he set the Apple down on the couch gently, and Spirit looked back at him with a curious expression on her face. Her gaze softened, and she pointed towards the armor that lay on the couch.
"Horst said that Ruby talked to you last semester about leadership. In essence, this is the same thing. You are the leader of your team, the spearhead, the coordinator, the everything. Without you, your team cannot function properly. I've seen you in action, and Horst says you are quite the tactician on the battlefield." Spirit turned and indicated Ren and Nora with a wave, who were listening while they continued to service their weapons. "However, that sword and shield limits what you can do. The rest of your team have distance options that make them more versatile than you, since you can only defend a teammate by standing between them and an enemy, or getting up in your foe's face and beating them down. That may work against the Grimm, but the White Fang will be different. And let's not even get started on the Hive or the other forces out there that the Guardians fight every day." Jaune looked slightly crestfallen at this, and he looked down at his sheathed sword on his hip.
"Are you saying that I'm a liability for the team?" Spirit held up her hands and shook her head, a slight frown on her face.
"No, that's not it. You are an invaluable member of the team, but you aren't as capable as the others, offensively speaking. I'm just leveling the playing field for you." Spirit bounced a knuckle off of a shoulder pauldron that sat on the couch, causing a faint clink of bone on metal. "Your armor and fighting style make you the most durable on the team, but if you can't reach out and touch someone you can be taken down from afar. What if you run into a sniper, and Pyrrha or Nora can't use their weapons for one reason or another? The answer: the Apple of Discord." Spirit finished, pointing towards Jaune's new rifle. The blonde looked down across the armor that he was cleaning and at the new rifle, and a grin slowly spread across his face as he made sense of what Spirit was trying to say.
"I think I see what you mean. In that case, thank you Spirit. I can't tell you how much I appreciate the help." The Hunter blew a raspberry and waved off his thanks.
"Oh please. I'm just trying to teach you something and keep you alive. It's what Horst would do. Now hurry up, your girlfriend is about to finish up in the shower." When Jaune cocked an eyebrow at her statement, Spirit grinned and held her hand out as if she were grasping an invisible knob or valve. As she twisted, Hope adjusted the temperature on the shower, and a high pitched shriek echoed from the refresher as Pyrrha's shower suddenly got a lot colder. Spirit, Nora, and Ren bowled over laughing as a red and tan streak, wrapped in a white towel, sped from the shower to the bunk room she shared with Jaune and closed the door. The blonde dropped what he was doing and went into the shower, collecting Pyrrha's discarded clothes while trying not to join in with the raucous laughter that flooded the living quarters. Once he had gathered all of Pyrrha's things, he knocked on the bunk room door, and handed a red faced Pyrrha her belongings before closing the door for her. Jaune was mortified for her, but he couldn't deny that it was just a little funny.
After Spirit caught her breath from the laughter that afflicted her, she sighed happily and walked back out of the living quarters, this time heading toward the cockpit. While Jaune handled his embarrassed girlfriend, Spirit sat down in the pilot's seat above the co-pilot's chair, feeling the efforts of the day weigh upon her now that she wasn't moving around. The Hunter slumped down in her chair and blew a long breath out of her lungs in exasperation: other than the team building exercise and a few hundred Grimm wiped from existence, there wasn't much to show for their progress that day. Spirit held her hand out, and Hope fluttered into view, materializing from thin air in a way that made it seem as if she were flying in from on high. The Ghost landed lightly on Spirit's open hand, and cocked her head slightly.
"Long day?" She asked, her child-like voice a welcome distraction from the growls and snarls of the monsters that had culled from Mountain Glenn's empty streets. Spirit nodded wearily, and sat up to talk to her partner.
"I hope Horst had better luck than us. According to Oobleck, there was little evidence of White Fang activity here, and that doesn't match up with what Horst and RWBY found out downtown." Spirit was annoyed at the situation, but something itched at the back of her mind. The city was large for an expansion, but something about the roads got to her. There didn't seem to be evidence of previous traffic, but at the same time there wasn't an airport to allow for airships. It bugged her incessantly, but Spirit was too tired mentally to consider a problem that would still be there tomorrow.
"I'm sure we'll figure it out. Just keep at it." Hope encourage, and the false raven looked down the hallway before returning her soft blue gaze to Spirit. "So you gave him the Apple?"
"I wasn't using it, and he needed a rifle. The boy's very competent at close range, but he can't do anything if he can't get to his enemy. A Fallen Vandal in an elevated position would pick the boy apart before he ever got near the thing." Spirit almost felt like she was defending her actions, but she knew Hope understood. Spirit was slowly getting attached to the team. And so what if she was down a rifle? There were dozens more in the lockers in the cargo bay.
"I think Horst will be pleased when he hears about it." Hope said with a flutter of wings. "Want me to call him?" Spirit paused for a moment, before nodding. If anything, she could get an update on what her Titan was up to. Hope hopped out of her hand and disappeared again, and the tittering of a Ghost's processing powers echoed in her ears as she sat in the chair. Before long, a weary voice came over the communication system.
"That you, Spirit?" The Titan seemed troubled by his tone. This would be interesting.
"Hey stud. Thought I'd call in and see what you found out." She said with a grin. "Bet I killed more Grimm than you today." A dry chuckle came over the comm, but it dropped off pretty quickly.
"Yes, well...things got pretty complicated over here. We picked apart the scouts in the city until we found out they were planning a heist on a Dust shop. After that, things went sideways." Horst was clearly prepared to elaborate. Spirit leaned forward in her chair and clasped her hands in front of her face.
"Alright. Fill me in."
And that's that. Running a little loose with the Lagoon crew. Won't be a permanent addition to the story, just an ode to an excellent anime and a solution to introducing this little side mission I concocted. If anyone's wondering why I'm loading down Jaune with cool gear, it's exactly what the poor kid thought: he is horrible under powered for what awaits. I'll include some training with the Apple, but the boy's got a ranged option now.