A young Captain named James Ironwood stepped out of a prefab structure and onto the Atlessian permafrost. His first battlefield commission was guard duty at a mining camp distant from the capital. The northern mountains sighed in his direction, sweeping his greatcoat and swaying the evergreens. He left a trail of footprints as far as the main road. His lieutenants fell in beside him and stood at attention.
At the gates, guards safe'd their weapons and admitted a troop transport. James, in only two weeks as a Captain, had already failed his commission. His mining camp wasn't producing. He'd feared replacement. Instead, the homeland sent a man from the Special Retinue Service, well versed in the problem of faunus labor strikes. The troop transport stopped before James' welcoming party, and that man stepped out of the passenger door, cane first.
James introduced himself. "Agent Noir Soleil? I'm Captain James Ironwood. Welcome to Chernobyl."
"No pleasantries, Captain," the old man waved. "No time. Let's get out of this cold."
More Retinue soldiers piled from the transport, unloading supplies. James and his lieutenants brought Soleil into the prefab command center. Noir Soleil accepted some coffee from an orderly, and then began speaking. "That mass of tents I saw- The laborers quarter there?"
"Yes, Agent," James nodded.
"Are there any free rooms in the dormitories?"
"Only one, Agent. I wasn't informed of your platoon."
"We will construct our own shelter, Captain. But make that room ready. Do you know which of the faunus is leading the strike?"
"There are several people we suspect, but it appears to be a distributed decision."
"It isn't. Have them appoint a spokesperson, then bring him here. We still have three hours of daylight, yes? Let's have him tonight. One other thing: Orderly, go outside and retrieve my dining accessories from the cargo truck. This room should accommodate us all."
Soleil waited for the orderly to leave, then snapped at James, "Well?"
James turned to his Lieutenants. "Cobalt, prepare Agent Soleil's sleeping arrangements. Gray, find the spokesperson from the laborers."
That left James and Soleil alone in the prefab. Soleil took a seat and put his feet up. He looked at the tack board, where a map of the camp's surface hung beside a map of the immense caverns below.
"You have a severe problem, Captain," Soleil whispered.
On training, James replied, "No excuse, Agent."
Soleil chuckled. "You misunderstand. You were stationed here to prevent further attacks by the White Fang. I see that the perimeter you've constructed is pristine. I take it the attacks have stopped?"
"Yes, Agent. We believe our presence deterred them."
"Do you have a precise headcount of your workers?"
"Ten thousand and seven-hundred. Give or take about twenty. We can't record every death in the mines and every immigrant."
"And you have no Identification program for your workers. So the whole of the White Fang's elite Shadow Pact could infiltrate your camp, and you would have no way of knowing who didn't belong."
James understood then that he had a serious problem.
"The faunus believe that you will make concessions to them in order to avoid losing your job. We, all of Atlas, are dependent upon them for their labor. Do you understand? We've given them power over us. These animals were our slaves, once. The things you own end up owning you."
Soleil sipped his coffee and kept staring at the map. James mumbled, "Their demands aren't so unreasonable, Agent."
"I suspect that the White Fang commander, and all of his forces, are within this camp. He has the power, at this moment, to rally all ten-thousand and seven-hundred people against you and overwhelm your Division. That he hasn't shows a lack of initiative."
"You aren't a negotiator," James realized.
"Let me rest, Ironwood. Be ready for dinner when our guest arrives. And relax. Why do you look so worried? You are a young man with two capable hands and a commission as an officer. And for assisting me in solving this dire issue, I will accelerate your career in the Capital. There's nothing for you to worry about, James. So don't. Just do as I say… And survive."
James didn't like his position. He dressed that night for what he knew could be his last. If Agent Soleil was right about the White Fang, or if he was wrong and provoked a riot, James would be the first against the wall. Relaxing wasn't an option.
But James had a totem to embody all of his hopes and dreams for the future. At the last Vytal Festival, he'd met his match in a young Vale Huntress. He tucked Glynda's photograph into his heart pocket and returned to the command center to meet the faunus leader.
Noir Soleil had renovated. The disgustingly luxurious accessories for his dining must have taken a large section of the truck. And he'd brought food from the homeland, fresh and kept warm. Noir Soleil sat at the head of the table, and the faunus spokesperson sat to his right. So James sat to his left.
"I was just saying hello to Mr. Tukson," Noir explained.
James nodded hello. Tukson was some kind of cat hybrid, no older than twenty. He nodded meekly and kept his posture erect and polite. Their guest had manners beyond his station. James felt glad to see that Tukson was far more nervous than he.
James followed Soleil's lead. He didn't speak out of line, he laughed appropriately at minor quips, and the meal was enjoyed in peace, in the formal style of humans from Atlas. Throughout, Tukson was able to keep pace and etiquette with Noir Soleil's conversation about literature.
Then Soleil very abruptly set his utensils down and admitted, "I am here for the Dust, Tukson."
Tukson swallowed his last food, and set his silverware down in the same pattern that Soleil had.
"I am here for the rights of my kind," he replied.
Noir took a long time to look Tukson in the eye and examine his resolve.
"I have good news for you," he finally nodded.
Tukson's chest raised as he took a large breath of relief.
Noir explained, "I am authorized to offer proper housing and two extra rations per person per day, in addition to medical treatment, educational programs, sick days- suffice to say that you all know full well that we need your labor and we must capitulate to your demands. There is one problem, a minor hiccup really."
Soleil paused to dab a napkin at his mouth. Tukson shivered.
"The problem is that we can only extend these benefits to miners. And none of the faunus in this camp are mining anything. Your job is simple, Mr. Tukson. You must explain to the laborers that they will be provided with a living, provided that they continue to labor. More specifically, they have until tomorrow to produce two megatons of Dust. Otherwise, they are no longer employees of the Schnee Dust Company, and are therefore ineligible to receive benefits under any State programs."
He stared Tukson down until the faunus nodded his understanding. Tukson didn't have a counter offer. He seemed stunned. James leaned in though, and offered his first comment.
"Two megatons? That's almost double the median daily output."
"Yes, well there's lost time to make up for," Soleil dismissed. "And if I have read your maps correctly, there is an exposed vein of that amount left uncollected due to the strike. The matter should be trivial."
Noir glanced to Tukson, who nodded his agreement.
"I'm finished and very tired from my journey," Soleil announced. "But feel free to enjoy your meal, Mr. Tukson. Also, feel welcome to sleep with us in the dormitories. A room has been made for you. Lieutenant Cobalt can show you to your quarters when you are ready."
Soleil left, and James only stayed long enough for an awkward exchange with the Tukson.
"So… You like books?"
"I do, Sir," Tukson nodded.
And that was that.
The next day ended in a similar dinner. Soleil sat at the table's head. James sat at his left. Tukson sat at his right. Soleil remained civil and unpredictable. James remained fearful that assassins would overwhelm his forces. Tukson looked like he was facing the gallows. As dinner was served to them, Soleil began his conversation.
"No Dust," he said.
"The equipment is sabotaged, Sir," Tukson mumbled.
"So I've heard. All of the keys to the drilling vehicles are locked up in a booby-trapped cage in the mine. As my demolitions expert explained, any attempt to blast through the cage will bring the cave down on it, and any attempt at opening the cage without the password to the keypad will trigger the booby-trap, bringing the cave down on it."
Tukson did not answer. He did not acknowledge his food.
"Pity," Soleil said.
Tukson swallowed fear. He watched Soleil eat, as if waiting for a snake to strike. James tried to enjoy the meal, but his stomach was busy twisting. Soleil turned his conversation to James.
"Captain, I have a brain teaser for you. Why did the laborers reject my offer?"
James had no clever insights. So he spoke the truth as he saw it.
"Maybe they didn't believe you. When you said all of those things about new benefits… Was that true?"
Soleil shrugged. "What is truth? They made their demands, and I capitulated. If they didn't want to follow through, then what was the point of the demands? I matched a lie with a lie, James. Here is the Truth. This is not a protest against conditions. There is a White Fang commander within the ranks of the laborers, and he doesn't want better conditions for workers. His objective is to deny the State of its strategic resources, the Dust from this mine. This is just another battle in the White Fang's war."
He turned to Tukson.
"How were you selected, Mr. Tukson? Surely there must have been a hundred nominees from ten-thousand to speak on behalf of the many. How were you chosen?"
"T-there were a hundred of us, as you say, S-sir," he stuttered.
Tukson gulped and continued, "So we broke into groups of ten, and each group elected-"
"Decimation," Soleil summarized.
"Yes, Sir."
"Good. You should eat, Tukson."
"I'm not hungry, Sir."
A distant boom startled everyone but Soleil.
He said, "You will be."
James turned to Lieutenant Cobalt and nodded for him to investigate. As the lieutenant left, Soleil stood from the table and glared at Tukson from above.
"I have a new offer for you to return with, Mr. Tukson. Tomorrow morning, we will ask for the White Fang leader to surrender. If they do not, we will then decimate you. One of every ten laborers will be elected for execution, and their replacements will be shipped in from elsewhere. This will repeat daily."
The door burst open for Lieutenant Cobalt. He panted, "Oh gods. The Retinue just destroyed the food stockpile. We have a riot."
The first bursts of gunfire echoed into the night. James turned to Soleil.
Soleil shook his head. "The Black Suns are experts at crowd control. There is no worry. James, sit."
James had stood in alarm. He obeyed.
Cobalt hesitated at the door and asked, "With your permission, Mister Soleil, Sir, Agent, I'd like to check on my son."
Soleil nodded for him to go. James found his tongue in outrage.
"Agent Soleil, decimation is… The White Fang won't be the ones decimated! You're guaranteed to only kill innocents!"
"Very astute, Captain. The White Fang will ensure that their operatives are never the ones elected for execution. Because the common faunus matters as much to the White Fang as they do to the Schnees."
"Then why-"
"Because they need to understand that."
Tukson, his face wet with tears, choked, "I am the White Fang commander."
Soleil shook his head. "No. Of all the faunus in this camp, I am certain that you are in no way connected to the White Fang, Mr. Tukson."
The tears sprang from Tukson as he understood how powerless he really was. "S-sir, please. I am the-"
"You should be happy," Soleil snapped. "This food, your new quarters, luxurious dining and fine discussions about literature… It's all meaningless to you, isn't it? You threw it all away just now to save a hundred friends and ten-thousand strangers. So your virtue is your treasure. You should be happy because, in this camp, you alone are above reproach. Now, if you will not eat, go deliver my message."
On the third night, there was no conversation. Tukson refused to eat. James tried, but his conscience stayed his appetite. Ten-thousand souls were going a second day without food, bearing the cold in tents and praying that they would live to starve another day.
"I must compliment the resolve of these faunus," Soleil said.
James looked down the table to his lieutenants. By their expressions, they understood, just as he did, that Soleil was holding every one of them hostage.
On day five, James and Tukson ate like beasts. The meat was no longer fresh. It had a stringy, packaged, air dried texture, and lost its flavor whenever it got cold. Hunger had won. And James was familiar with a soldier's diet. He didn't complain. Soleil looked at them both contemptuously.
"We've solved the food crisis for the laborers," he hummed.
James imagined that the mass-killings were a greater concern. Soleil held some steak aloft on his fork and grimaced at it.
"Somehow I always knew…" he said, "that faunus would taste disgusting."
James did not eat again until the ninth day. Soleil held his morning lecture over the PA system. And then the White Fang leader surrendered.
A cat-faunus in her prime, a head shorter than James, but with more pride left in her stature. Straight black hair draped down to her waist. She had an extra set of ears, feline, atop her head. As she stepped forward, the others sank to their faces in the mud until the whole congregation lay prostrate before her. When James secured her cuffs, she addressed him with her eyes. Her pupils were vertical slats. Her voice was soft and level.
"Captain, I'm at the mercy of your honor."
James whispered his reply. "I'm sorry. But you are at the mercy of another. And he has no honor."
Soleil waited for them in the SRS camp. The retinue had erected their own fenced compound. Among those structures was a holding cell. The Retinue soldiers took their prisoner inside while Soleil, Tukson, and James met before it. Soleil did not look happy.
He turned to Tukson. "Who is she?"
"Khali Belladonna," Tukson said.
Soleil watched Tukson, as if reading him, as if checking his resolve as he had on that first night. He wrapped an arm around Tukson and brought the faunus too close for comfort.
"That's a very believable claim you've made, Tukson. But I don't like it."
"I'm sorry, Sir," Tukson shivered.
"Because I've been assuming that 'Little Bull' was the White Fang commander in this area."
"I don't know who that is, Sir," Tukson said.
"You call him Adam Taurus, Tukson. He's very young, but these Bull faunus are extremely strong by the time they're ten. I have many, many reasons to believe that Taurus is the commander here. But now you're telling me that the woman I've just captured is 'Nightshade.'"
"That's what I've been told, Sir."
Agent Soleil nodded. He patted Tukson's back. "I know you want this awful business to end even more than I do. You can help it end faster, Tukson. Tell me what matters to her, more than anything in the world."
Tukson had run out of tears last week. He didn't cry now. He didn't even look like a man.
He mumbled, "She has a daughter."
Soleil patted him again, then released him. "Good. Go find Lieutenant Cobalt. Tell him to bring me the child. Ironwood, come."
They entered the holding cell. Chained to the floor, Kali could only look them in the eye by tilting her head up uncomfortably. Soleil dragged a chair forward to hold her head in his lap.
They both kept expressions of serenity. Context aside, they could have been father and daughter. Soleil told her a story.
"I have two daughters, born a year apart from each other. Love is… A compulsion more powerful than hunger, or life. But you already know that."
It was here that Kali's serenity faltered. She shook, then struggled. Soleil gripped her hair and held her in place.
"My firstborn fell very sick at a very young age. I am a wealthy man, and I have spent seven years of agony keeping her from death. But… She is not truly alive. Her mother believes she perished. Her sister doesn't even know she exists. I had no options, you see. I have been studying the nature of the soul. Its properties, its substance, its transference and even fabrication. Though that will require further study."
Here Soleil lost his serenity. To stay calm, he stroked her hair.
"I can't imagine the pain you are in. I don't want to. I want you to feel my pain, Nightshade. You see, to keep her in this world with me, I needed miracles. I have made those miracles. I have torn the souls from living faunus and flopped them about at whim. The same principles govern human souls. That should console you as much as it did me. But I couldn't bring myself to give her a body other than her own. I had to create another miracle. A body like hers, but without her flaws. Without her genetic diseases."
"So a new body was engineered. It's almost complete. Two miracles, Nightshade, do you understand? Twice I've defied the gods. I can accept an eternity in Hell, but they cannot let her draw breath and then take her from me. You understand. I know you do."
"Now I have only one obstacle before me, Nightshade. I need more materials to complete the body. And to transfer her soul, I need energy. Lots of energy. Do you understand? Both of these things, materials and energy: Dust. I need the Dust, and that means I need the mine to function. There's nothing you can do to stop me, Nightshade. I will kill every single faunus here and keep replacing you until I have the Dust. Don't resist me."
His tears landed in her eyes.
Blinking through them, she answered, "I don't have the code."
"Who does?"
"Adam."
"And where is Little Bull?"
"He left."
"I can't take your word for that."
"I know."
They were quiet, and only held each other's company for a long time. Ironwood had been taught that torture was a game of psychological endurance. James did not feel that he was enduring. He did not feel the serenity that Belladonna kept showing. She broke their long silence.
"I know you, Soleil. Your wife writes those beautiful poems in the letters we intercept. She's famous, and she's made you famous. Her prose has moved us through the hardest nights of winter."
"Yes, she's… She's inspired me to live more in these years than I would have in whole lifetimes without her."
He swallowed his sorrow and asked, "Do you… Do you happen to remember any of that prose?"
Belladonna laughed as much as her starved frame and utter despair allowed. But it was a laugh at absurdity, void of bitterness, brief and joyful. And then she nodded and spoke from her heart.
"Oh, lover, how I linger on your kindness,
As if sentiment and passion alone,
Rationed, could nourish and keep my heart warm.
"By day, hopeful, I await your return.
By night, I light the stars that will guide you,
To me, closer, to the peace in our home.
"Though tossed by Fate and her Four Seasons I,
Supplicant to your tenderness, await.
Come to me soon, for you are my Remnant."
She finished with her eyes closed and her head at rest. Soleil had released his grip on her, had softened as James had never seen the man, nor ever would again. A loud knock ended that moment, and Lieutenant Cobalt entered with a young faunus, a girl who appeared almost human, save the extra set of cat ears, and the vertical pupils of her eyes. She was no more than four. She didn't seem to understand the direness of her situation until she heard her mother weeping.
"Thank you, Kali," Soleil whispered.
She sobbed, "Do what you must, Eclipse. We have never known you to be merciful. And I would think less of you as a father if you did not call upon every means at your disposal."
He gripped her hair, and snorted back his tears in preparation for work. He slipped brass knuckles onto his other hand and said, "Yes. Well… In for a Penny, in for a Pound."