XxX-XxX-XxX Official Supporters:
Fanatical Fucking Reader, ScrubLord Yoda
Compulsive Reader, The Impossible Muffin
Adeptus, Private Wilger
Commissioner, Gib, Espa Cole
Settled Reader, Xager the Chaos King If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM me for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen :
Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i) (slash)kfhkfUb
I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.
Beta(s) :
XxX-XxX-XxX
Requested by:
Gib
XxX-XxX-XxX
"This is impossible… Impossible!" Ghira Belladonna growled, understandably distraught as he paced behind the same desk he'd paid her at days and days previous. Working his fingers through his beard as he paced, he paid her a look and explained, "Relations between Mistral and Kuo Kuana have been improving for years, now. Why would they sabotage us?"
"I don't know." She shrugged, sitting in a comfortable chair with Spark silent and behind her. "Why would they?"
"I don't know why-"
"I'm not asking what you know, respectfully, Chieftain. I'm asking for you to think about it." She cut him off quietly, drawing furrowed brows from the great Faunus until she explained. "You're only thinking about why they wouldn't do this, but it seems like they have, so think of why they would."
"Why they would…" Ghira blinked, eyes flicking back and forth as he turned to stare at the wall and then, after a heartbeat, he sighed. Dragging his chair out and falling into it the man sighed, "It could be due to Mistralian Faunus organizations with my backing pushing for work and civil protections. They've been gaining support, lately, and a lot of that is Khali's… I won't say fault, but I'm sure you get the point."
"I do, yeah." Mostly, at least. It was still insane to think that Mistral just let businesses bar people for their race, like some state in southern America centuries back. It just seemed so… Asinine, and suicidal, given the nature of the Grimm. But such was human nature, to hate and hurt, she supposed. "How likely do you find it that they could manage something like this?"
"Evidently, given what you found, very." He sighed when she gave him a look, though, and explained more earnestly, "If the more conservative elements found a financial backer, or… Or someone with influence over them, then yes. But I still can't understand why they would resort to interventionalism by way of privateering as opposed to simply pushing for electoral victories."
"Maybe that wasn't working?"
"The most recent election was a conservative win by a landslide!" He guffawed, grumbling under his breath, "If the Faunus had been able to vote then maybe… But I won't get into that. Point is, they hold enough power that anything past surface level pandering changes doesn't get through. So, why bother?"
"I don't know." She shrugged, "Who would have the kind of money to front this?"
"Outside the Council itself?" Ghira asked, leaning back and drumming his fingers on the top of his desk gently, his claws clicking loudly in the mostly quiet office. With his other hand he leafed through the journal, skimming pages he'd already read as he thought and talked. "Jacques Schnee would be able to front it, but the SDC's shipments have been sinking too, according to the journal. He wouldn't do anything that cut into his sacred profit margins."
"Probably not, no." He looked and sounded like twenty-first century high class CEOs, with dollar signs for eyes and a cash register changing for his heartbeat. Not the type to very literally sink his money for no apparent gain. "And Kuo Kuana isn't exactly muscling into the Dust business."
"No." Ghira rumbled, "They aren't."
"Then who else…?"
"I don't know." He shrugged unsurely, "We need to wait for my wife. She's much better at foreign affairs like these- Ah, and here she is."
Less then a moment later Rion heard the door open and turned, watching Khali shuffle in and slam it behind her. The woman was tired, toting a box full of files, and had a glare that could rival the storm they'd had to sail through. But when she met Rion's eyes she still smiled as kindly as she could manage, sauntering across the room with a polite nod and setting the box down on the desk.
"These," she explained, walking around and grabbing a spare chair tucked into a corner to drag to the desk and sit down, "is a record of every ship reported lost in the last six months by name, date and type."
"And?" Rion asked, "Anything interesting?"
"Next to none of them were Mistralian, and most weren't Atlesian either." She explained with a tired sigh, "Most were sunk along Anima's southern coasts, inside well-known shipping lanes. Luxury goods, weapons, Dust, raw goods- The target doesn't seem to have mattered, really, beyond nationality."
"What about race?" Rion asked, "Are most of them Faunus crewed? Or maybe even just owned?"
"It didn't seem to matter, either. Ships out of Menagerie obviously had more Faunus, as a matter of course. But other ships didn't show the same kind of trend, so…" Khali shrugged, "I don't think Mistral's council, or conservatives, would sanction so many Human casualties. Especially given the bad impact it would be having on Mistral, too, since shipping coming in was being hampered with everything else."
"So it's probably not any of those… Or at least, our guessing won't figure out which." Rion sighed, leaning back and paying the silent machine beside her a look. Almost imperceptibly, Spark nodded, and she grimaced knowingly. But, she knew what she needed to do now. Even if she didn't really like it. "So, that just means we… Have to fight it off, right?"
"Fight?" Khali blinked, "Rion we can't… We can't fight."
"Why not?" Rion shrugged, leaning forward to rest her forearms on her knees and looking between the two of them. "I know you two… Stepped down, when the White Fang started turning violent, but you aren't actually pacifists are you?"
"No! Sea and Tides, no." Ghira laughed brightly, shaking his head and taking a long, deep breath, "She means we literally can't. Menagerie's fighters are too tied up defending us from Grimm and regular bandits, or serving policing roles in the city, to man ships to fight back."
"We just don't have the people." Khali added with a small nod, "We don't have the weapons, either. Rifles and simpler hand-weapons, like swords and the like, are one thing. Even heavy machine guns, as few of those as we have. But we'd need cannons to fight pirates. Cannons and the men and women needed to field them."
"Damn." She was half-tempted to suggest a civilian draft, like the UNSC had used a handful of times, but she doubted that either of them would tolerate that. "Then… I don't know what the hell to do."
"I do." Ghira sighed, turning to his wife with a frown so deep she thought his face might get stuck that way. "You're not going to like it…"
"Like what?" Khali blinked and then flinched back like the man had struck her, shaking her head almost violently. "Ghira, no! We cannot invite them here after the Fall of Beacon! You know how that will look on the international stage!"
"She's said at every turn that she had nothing to do with that." Ghria's words rumbled around the room irritably, like he was already resigned to an age-old argument. And one that neither side seemed willing to budge on. "She has most of our fighters."
"Yes, she does." Khali nodded, voice hot, "And now they're all wanted terrorists in every Kingdom."
"I'm not denying that, dear. I'm not. They all left to join her. And they stayed after… After everything changed into what it is now." He said, eyes pinching shut against a wave of pain that she only half-understood. Once upon a time, the two of them, along with the current leadership, had founded the White Fang. "But if she's willing to help us here and now, it could save hundreds of lives."
"And it will just cost everything we've built."
"With respect, Ma'am." Rion cut in, smiling sadly and resignedly for the woman's sake. "It seems like the other Kingdoms are already working on doing that, Khali. Or… Someone out there is, at least. And without Sienna Khan's help, I don't have any other ideas for how to fight back."
"But…" Khali sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, "You're right. I hate asking her for help, after the knife she stuck in our backs, but… She has the numbers. And the weapons."
"Right…" Ghira rose and sighed, smiling for Rion's benefit, now, "Rion, do you mind giving us the room? My wife and I have plans to make. Without the CCT up and running, and a way to get access to her secure line, we'll need some other way of calling Sienna."
"And besides," Khali sighed, "I'm sure you're tired, after the fight you had. And then the storm."
"Right." She didn't really mind either way, now the storm was gone, and the fight hadn't been much of anything for her… But she knew that they were just posing the barely subtle 'go away now' as politely as they could. Standing, she paid them each nods and said, "Good evening, then. If you need me…"
"We know where to find you." Ghira nodded, waving a hand towards the door, "Enjoy your evening, Rion."
Nodding, she murmured the same to them and turned to leave, Guilty Spark lumbering along silently behind her. As the door closed, and she turned to leave, she didn't hear his metal feet on the wood and stopped. When she turned to ask why, his hand rose ever so slightly, curled into a tight fist with a single finger pointed towards the ground in an old, Forerunner signal. She didn't know them all, in spite of him trying to teach her when they had time and thought about it, but this one she knew.
'Hold, one watcher detected.'
She felt her shoulders stiffen, for a moment, and fought the urge to turn and look with him. But instead she waited a long moment and then thumped the machine's shoulder, forcing a smile, "Come on, you bucket of bolts. Don't let your AI bug out, now. We have to go."
"Understood, Rion." Spark nodded, playing the part and turning to follow her towards their room. Once they were safely away, and he presumably didn't detect anyone close enough to hear, he explained, "There was a serving girl at the end of the hall. She'd changed her skin tone to mask into the wall and darkness, and was watching us."
"Well that's…" She frowned, searching for words until she finally settled on, "Not great. Keep your sensors searching while we're here, Spark. I have a bad feeling about this."
"Oh, now you have a bad feeling?" Spark mused teasingly, Rion already rolling her eyes as he went on, "Not when you discovered the apparently international conspiracy to undermine a sovereign nation? Or when you found out about the endless, mindless monsters that want to eat you?"
"You have an off switch." She growled, "I will find it."
"Actually, I don't."
"I'll install one, then." She threatened, pointing a finger at him, "Don't challenge me. I've been cutting and slicing machinery up since I was half my height."
"I'd like to see you manage it." She gave him a look, both brows raised in a clear challenge, and the machine chuckled. Hands up in faux surrender he laughed, "Alright, alright, I'll behave."
"Yeah, but for how long?"
"Oh, a couple minutes, at least." Spark grinned, "Until I get bored again, at least."
Rion only sighed, rolling her eyes and genuinely looking forward to a bed that didn't have waves bouncing her about. Still, in the back of her mind, she was on her toes. Who'd been watching them? Why? Were they involved in the privateering, somehow? There were so many questions running through her head… And none had any answers she could think of that were likely to be very good for her.
Still, she couldn't do much about it for now but wait and hope the Belladonnas came up with a good plan of action.
XxX-XxX-XxX
Ilia couldn't clock out for the day fast enough after what she'd heard through the vents at the Manor. Shuffling out and along the path, she did as she always did, vanishing down a side alley and then scaling up to use the roofs to get across Kuo Kuana more quickly and without anyone below seeing her head from the Manor to the White Fang's headquarters. At first, she'd taken these paths slowly, checking each alley and street before she leapt over them.
But she'd learned pretty quickly that none of these idiots looked up.
"What's the pass-"
"It's me, Barry, let me in." She growled, standing in front of the currently locked up White Fang headquarters.
"O-Oh, Miss Ilia, it's you." The barrel of a bear Faunus murmured, pulling open the door to let her slip through and closing it behind her. Before she could ask, he pointed up and said, "In their office, as usual."
Ever since the report about the privateers had been put out, and shipping slowed, the two brothers had ordered it locked up 'for security'. It made sense to let everyone know about the problem, and she understood why everyone that could afford to had stopped going out to fish or trade. It would cause problems eventually, especially for the Chieftain himself, but this was the safest course of action for everyone, including the White Fang.
At least, until they had a better one.
But she hated that it had put a stop to most of the White Fang's more obvious, helpful work around the continent's coasts. Every now and again a handful of their heavier ships, frigates rather than converted fishing trawlers and the like, would head out on a job. But normally, those five ships would be doing five jobs…
"Focus, Ilia." She murmured as she walked quickly through the halls of the base, "It's time to do your job, not someone else's."
Aside from Barry, no one else bothered her as she passed through the mostly quiet White Fang base. A lot of that was because many White Fang had dropped their masks to help around the city, or be with their families. Those that could, who didn't have Faunus features too rare and noticeable or scars that were too obvious to miss, would often drop the mask to go enjoy civilian life.
The rest of the reason everyone left her alone was just because they were afraid of the Albain brothers, who'd made it clear she was in their circle.
"Ah, Sister." Fennec answered, stepping aside and waving for her to enter with a warm smile. "It's good to see you well."
"And here to make a report." Corsac grunted, watching their fire burn pensively. He paid her a glance and added, forebodingly, "At least, presumably so, or else you wouldn't have risked ruining your cover by coming here."
"I-I do." She rushed to assure him, sitting in the folding chair that Fennec had brought in for her a while back. Hands resting on her knees, she explained, "Chieftain Belladonna is going to try and reach the High Leader for help."
"Help?" Corsac growled, shaking his head and flicking a look to his smaller brother before turning back to the fire. "After he forced her to leave and set her base on Anima I find it funny that he'd dare ask her for help."
"Things change, Brother." Fennec countered, "And bring with them opportunities. We should reach out to our own allies on Anima, and see to… Expediting this."
"Why?" Corsac asked, "That will just get in the way of-"
"Of nothing." Fennec cut the man off, steepling his fingers and tapping the tips of them against his chin contemplatively. Smiling, he murmured, seemingly as much to himself as to either of them, "We already planned to… Well, this just makes one stona able to strike two birds, so I doubt it's too grave a change."
"That could be biting off more than we can chew…"
"True." The smaller brother nodded, "Perhaps we should… Call for reinforcements, then. Very specific reinforcements."
"Hm…" Corsac turned to her and grunted, quietly, "Leave us, Sister. We have an important call to make."
Nodding, she stood and left, headed for the barracks to finally rest her aching feet. If that asshole in cubicle three over-filled his trash can again and left trash everywhere, she'd kill him...
XxX-XxX-XxX
"Council Ethan Coppercap is well known for his love of the navy and his hate of the Faunus, and by extension Menagerie." Spark said quietly, standing next to the door while she relaxed in her bed. Straightening, he turned to regard the hall through her door for a long, quiet moment before turning back to her. "He has sat on the Council for fourteen years, and wins every election unopposed."
"Does he have the Lien to do this?" Rion asked, sprawled out on her bed and staring up at the ceiling. They'd been at this since they got to the room, more or less, and as important as it was, she was pretty sure they wouldn't get anywhere with it.
Which made it a lot more than a little frustrating.
"No." Spark answered quickly, "He owns his own ship, and a pair of interceptors to protect it when he uses it. But he doesn't seem to have the wealth needed. And he's a nationalist besides. He wouldn't harm Mistralian exporting businesses the way that these privateers have done."
"Put a pin in him, then." She sighed, "I doubt it's him, but… Next."
"There is no one else, Rion." Spark answered quietly, resignedly, sighing when she sat up a bit to pay him a look. "Only Headmaster Leonardo Lionheart, of Haven Academy, could manage to front something like this. Admittedly, using Academy funding, but it's all fairly irrelevant."
"Why?" She blinked, remembering something before Spark could answer. "Oh, right, he's a Faunus, right?"
"He is." Spark nodded, "Ten Lien if you can guess what kind."
"Oh, I don't know." She rolled her eyes, smiling thinly, "Maybe a turtle?"
"Oh, rion." Spark sighed, shaking his head and palming his face. "Truly, I wonder how often I can overestimate your intellect."
"I was being sarcastic…"
"Truly, my disappointment is eternal. Every time I place my faith, she fails it… A never ending tragedy." He sighed, ignoring her and looking to the sky, hand curling into a fist dramatically. "But I will always place faith in my pet Human!"
"Hey!" She blinked, sitting up and hurling a pillow at him. He caught it deftly with his free hand but kept his pose, pitching the pillow back to the food of her bed deftly. Even so, she pressed, "I'm not a pet, Spark. Yours or anyone else's."
"Yes, yes, you're a strong, independent meat bag. Just let me have my fun, Rion." He sighed, waving her off and turning to leaf through folders that had been left on her desk. Finally he said, "You should get some sleep, Rion. Without more information, we're stuck on who is to blame for all of this."
"Yeah." She'd kind of come to that conclusion earlier, after the meeting with the Chieftain, but Spark had wanted to run through it. And she hadn't had any reason not to humor him, so… "As long as you're alright, now."
"I'm anxious." He said quietly, turning his head to pay her a small, comforting smile. "To get back out on the ocean, and to resolve this both. To be sailing again after so long has my heart aching for it. And to be blocked by something as underhanded and seemingly pointless as this? That's only aggravating me further."
"We'll get it dealt with." She promised him, "One way or another."
"Yeah. Even if I have to deal with it personally, it will." There was an odd edge to his voice as he said that. Something low and angry, that she couldn't quite place. But it vanished in a smile a moment later and he waved her off, "Now, get some sleep, Rion. You're going to need it tomorrow, I'm sure."
"Alright…" She was worried about him now, more than she'd been before, but he was right that she needed her rest. So, with a sigh, she laid back and forced her eyes to close.
XxX-XxX-XxX
KPMH2001 :
Yeah, that's part of why I'm working with it. Privateering, and how one goes about dealing with it, isn't often covered in media. Which is probably because it's difficult to cover without aggravating people, either by drawing on IRL inspirations that will irk some or by showing aspects that people dislike.
Hopefully, it goes well!
The Baz :
We all suffer together, now.
Two characters and one voice.
The Data Plague consumes all.
Combine 117 :
ONLY the BEST.