A/N: As I write this, my kiddo is less than 24 hours old (and currently sleeping, so I have a few minutes to prep and launch this chapter for you all). She's healthy, mamma is healthy, and pappa is the happiest fucken dude on the planet.
I still have a good amount of written content that is "banked" so that I can still put out chapters even while I work to re-adjust my schedule/life around this cute little raisin. With any luck, I'll be able to find a good balance between baby, sleep, work, and writing.
Until then? Enjoy.
"Alright, perimeter is secured."
Sienna Khan looked up from her office table to see the increasingly-familiar face of the XCOM officer that Bradford had left behind on Menagerie. He hadn't knocked on the door to announce his presence. Then again, she hadn't kept it closed. Nor had she left any guards stationed at the entryway to keep people out or inform her of the arrival of guests.
It was a new policy she'd been testing out for the last week. Jury was still out on whether she liked the tonal change or not.
"Thank you, Rogers," She said, nodding at the soldier. He immediately fell into an at-ease position at her acknowledgement and smiled.
"It's our pleasure to help keep Kuo Kuana safe."
Sienna raised an eyebrow at his comment, though they both knew that the surprise was feigned. She'd known him long enough now to understand (and more importantly, believe) that his sentiment was genuine.
But it was still fun to keep up the charade, so Sienna asked, "Even though you're a foreigner?"
"That doesn't mean a damn thing to me when it comes to helping those in need," Steve answered, stepping into the room and taking a glance at the map Sienna had been examining.
A Grimm scare in the harbor had caused a small panic among the locals. After the encounter with the Leviathans during the terror attack, Sienna couldn't blame her people for being jumpy at the prospect of waterborne threats, but it did mean that Kuo Kuana was more susceptible to follow-up Grimm incursions anytime something stirred in the water.
The ADVENT garrison pulled its weight (for once) and helped maintain order down at the docks. In the meantime, Steve had dispatched his teams to the desert front to make sure no threats came in from the sandy wastes, drawn by the feelings of fear like moths to a flame.
The arrangement worked out well for Sienna. ADVENT wanted nothing to do with XCOM, and so having them work together at the waterfront was not an option. At the same time, the threats from the desert were more frequent and, with the singular exception of the watery Leviathans, more deadly. With XCOM's growing combat experience against the desert threats, having them watch over that particular theater was an undeniable boon for Kuo Kuana.
"Are you calling us helpless?" She asked, looking up at Steve with her trademark dangerous look.
"No, ma'am," He answered, reaching over to make a few adjustments to the markings on Sienna's battle map. "I'm calling you allies."
Sienna chuckled.
Good answer. And judging by Steve's updates to her map, good progress on re-securing the city's borders. The early-warning outposts XCOM had built on the desert front were back under Fang control, and the jungle garrison stationed between the city and the border remained fully operational. Rogers certainly knew his way around security and fortification tactics.
Almost as if XCOM had a lot more experience with combat in a full-scale war than a "recon unit" would reasonably have.
Sienna brushed off the thought. Rogers had given her a brief history of the war on Earth and suggested that she ask Bradford if she wanted the more detailed story. It was on her to-do list, but every time she saw Rogers exemplifying the by-the-book professionalism of XCOM, it made her wonder what kind of war had molded Bradford's people to carry themselves with such discipline.
Sure, Remnant was more or less always at war with the Grimm, but XCOM still stood head and shoulders above any other unit that Sienna had seen. Even without Aura, their training and skill was extraordinary.
Speaking of the strange and extraordinary...
"Where are your viper friends?" She asked, looking across her table at the Lieutenant.
I haven't seen them since XCOM left Menagerie."
Steve cocked an eyebrow. "I don't know who you're talking about."
Sienna had to suppress an eyeroll. The charade was all good and fun when she was the one feigning ignorance, but this was a little different.
"I'm asking you because it directly relates to my role of protecting the people of this city," She said, staring at Steve. "That includes knowing what assets are available for my use, as well as their status. Now answer the question."
Much to Sienna's annoyance, Steve maintained a level gaze as he looked right back at her and answered, "Lady Khan, I'm sure I don't know what you mean. Per the Central Officer's instructions all units that report to XCOM have been placed under your command, and remain at your disposal. What's a 'viper,' and why are you under the impression that I'm friends with one?"
Sienna stared at him. What game was this man playing at? Bradford had made a point of introducing her to that leader of the vipers (the Archon, wasn't it?), who had made a point of offering some of his forces to assist the XCOM team left behind on Menagerie.
She distinctly recalled that translator woman talking about her 'sisters' and saying…
…
Ah. Right.
If my sisters do their job right, you won't even know they're there.
And if Lieutenant Rogers was being truthful (and Sienna had never known him not to be), then when he said that all units that report to XCOM were at her disposal...
"I see…" Sienna said, shaking her head with a sigh. "Very well, then. My apologies for the confusion."
Someday, she would make a point of asking Bradford to tell her exactly what the Archon's underlings had been up to during their stay in her city. She didn't like being kept in the dark, and although she could deal with it for now, she'd want to know sooner or later all that had transpired under her watch.
It was a matter of professional pride.
The XCOM operative smiled, and turned to leave. Before he stepped through the door, however, Sienna remembered another question that had been burning at the back of her mind for a while.
"Rogers," She said.
He stopped moving and looked back at her questioningly.
"I've been meaning to ask... Why do your men call you Steve?"
The man grinned and answered, "You'll probably have to ask Bradford about that one, because I don't know myself. My first name is James."
And with that, he was out the door. Sienna suspected that the man had, for the first time, just lied to her face.
She also suspected that he was trying to give her a reason to contact Bradford, though she wasn't entirely sure why.
"Ruby? Are you in here?"
Yang poked her head through yet another doorway, casting her gaze across the first of the four bunk rooms aboard the Avenger. Upon seeing nothing but unmade beds and dirty laundry, she shrugged and pulled back to check the others. The second room had nothing save for a sleeping Reese mumbling dreamily into her pillow; the third "rewarded" her with the sight of Professor Port getting changed.
The huntress thumbed a piece of metal she had in her pocket, and she wondered if her guess about Ruby's whereabouts had been wrong. The Corporal had said he was certain he saw her coming down this way earlier, though, and if Yang's suspicion about where she'd been was correct...
The last room finally gave her a glimpse of the bright red cloak she was looking for.
As Yang quietly stepped through the door, she also heard quiet sobbing escaping from the bundle of soaked cloth.
"Oh, Ruby..." she said with a soft sigh.
Yang crossed the room and took a seat next to her cocoon of a little sister. To the XCOM captain trembling like a small child. She said nothing at first, merely letting the silence speak for them both.
When she was sure she hadher own emotions under control, Yang spoke.
"You saw the wall."
It wasn't a question, and it wasn't a guess. Yang knew that there was only one thing that could have put Ruby in a state like this.
She thumbed the metal in her pocket again.
Ruby nodded, still obscured by her hood. "...why didn't anyone tell me?"
The voice sounded so small, coming from beneath Ruby's cape.
"We wanted to," answered Yang gently. "We just... weren't sure when it would be the best time. Or who should tell you. Or how. I mean... you've been through a lot the last few days, we didn't..."
The little captain scoffed and sobbed at the same time. "Yeah, 'cause letting an emotionally traumatized soldier find out about Beags's death on her own is so much better."
Yang didn't have an answer to that. What could she even say? Nobody wanted her to find out on her own, but now her sister had been hurt in the worst way because they'd been frozen with indecision.
"Sorry," Ruby said. "That wasn't fair."
Yang let go of the metal in her pocket and put her arm around the bundle that called itself Ruby.
"You have every right to be upset," Yang answered softly. "About losing him. We... we all were. A lot of us still are. Mac… I don't think Mac has been the same since. Or Jaune, though at least he has Pyrrha..."
Ruby finally pulled enough of the hood back to reveal puffy, tear-stained silver eyes. "...I'm not upset. Or sad. I'm just... scared..."
Yang raised an eyebrow. "About... what?"
She could see a struggle within her sister. Part of Ruby wanted to be angry, furious that Yang wouldn't know (or worse, would pretend to not know) why she was scared. But the other part was just so utterly exhausted, after everything that Ruby had been through, that the best she could do was cast a half-hearted glare at Yang.
"About this, Yang. And everything else that has happened. I get captured by an Ethereal pretending to be my mom, get trapped and tortured by an immortal psychopath, listen to Ozpin tell me every single thing I thought I knew about home was wrong, and then I'm forced to leave him behind with your-"
She hesitated. Closed her eyes. Sighed.
"With a mother who never deserved you, Yang. And then I came back to find that when XCOM needed me most, I wasn't there. Worse, Beagle and so many others paid the price trying to find me. You assaulted that base because you thought I was there, and the wall grows thanks to my failure."
Ruby looked up at her sister, face brimming with tears. "All of this, because of my silver fucking eyes."
Yang's heart twisted at Ruby's words. Even though her little sister had matured by a decade or more in a tenth of that time, it was still painful to see her sister devoid of her trademark optimism and energetic spark.
The last time Yang remembered her being like this, Ruby had almost killed herself by falling asleep at one of Shen's machines.
Ruby still had more to say, though. She fought through the fatigue building up from her teary-eyed sobbing that was stacking itself on top of her exhausting ordeal at the hands of Salem, and she found the strength to use her words.
"We've lost so many good people…" She whispered.
"Biggs…"
The first.
"Bolts…"
The optimist.
"Vance…"
The mentor.
"Zhang…"
The second father.
"... Beags."
The little captain looked back up at her older sister, eyes trembling. "Everyone we know and love back on Earth is locked away across the span of dimensions. Crescent Rose is gone. Aureate Mercy is gone. The names of every single person I carried with me are gone."
Yang's eyes went wide. What was Ruby talking about?
"She… she melted them, Yang," Ruby croaked. "She forced me to watch as the memories and presence of everyone I had lost melted through her fingers. Gone. Reduced to slag. Murdered-"
She shuddered, squeezed her eyes shut, and whispered, "... Murdered for a second time."
The blonde Huntress had no response to that. All she could do was return her hand to her pocket and once again thumb the small piece of metal in there.
"Salem has two parts of Asaru," Ruby continued miserably. "We're stuck here with nowhere left to go, and now Atlas wants to put us on the fucking gallows for doing the right thing! What am I gonna lose next?! Who am I gonna lose next? Blake? Weiss? Dad? Y-"
Yang pulled Ruby in for a tight hug before she could finish her sentence, squeezing with mechanical arms she desperately wished carried the warmth of the real thing. The pressure was enough for the little rose, whose anger immediately flipped back into pure, uncontrolled sobs.
"I'm so... so tired of losing people..."
"I know you are," whispered Yang, rocking her little sister gently back and forth. "So am I."
They stayed like that for some time, struggling desperately to find comfort in each others' embrace. Yang didn't know how long Ruby would need before she could function again, but she silently vowed to move Remnant and Earth to ensure that she did.
Before that, though…
"I know nothing can bring those tags back," Yang said quietly, freeing one hand from their hug and reaching back into her pocket, "But I… might have something that can help."
Ruby looked up from where she had buried herself in her sister's stomach. She didn't look curious or hopeful. Just confused.
The quiet sound of tinkling metal echoed from Yang's pocket as she pulled out a familiar-looking necklace with a rectangle of stamped aluminum hanging from the end of it.
All it took was one look at the name on the tag for Ruby to fall back into her sister once more, weeping.
"He gave it to Blake," Yang said gently. "To make sure that it found its way back to you."
A reminder, Yang hoped, that even when the world seemed impossibly bleak, there would always be someone at Ruby's side to lend her their strength...
"He told us to make sure we found you," She continued, "And to tell you that you're the best goddamn captain he ever met."
… No matter how far away they might be.
If Hei Xiong could only say one thing to describe Taiyang Xiao Long, it would have to be a compliment to the man's singular focus.
Unable to do anything about his daughter's fate beyond trusting XCOM to find her, Xiao Long had turned to Junior to help keep himself distracted. Junior wasn't sure if the sort of work he needed would be palatable for someone like Taiyang, but he had to admit that the old man proved him wrong.
Junior had half a mind to give Taiyang the most distasteful, uncomfortable jobs available, just as a way of sticking it to little Blondie. But after he slept on it, considered how much of a help his resources from XCOM had been, and realized how useful a fully-fledged Huntsman might be for his enterprise, Hei elected to give Taiyang actual assignments that were better suited towards his skillset.
So while crime was more or less out of the question, Junior had been building up his protection racket in the wake of the Vytal Festival disaster. And sure, while breaking fingers or watching buildings suffer 'unfortunate' accidents was a strong motivator for people on the fence to decide that Junior's services were worth contracting, having an actual Huntsman going around and fighting for the people also had the side benefit of generating positive press.
It also helped that some people weren't entirely sold on Cinder Fall's feel-good message of coming together to hold hands and sing Kumbaya. So when they were presented with an alternative that involved Huntsmen instead of ADVENT? The finger breaking was not necessary. Just a good old fashioned Grimm ass-kicking.
And boy, oh boy was Taiyang good at kicking ass. It felt like Junior needed to update his social map on a near-daily basis from all of the influence that Xiao Long was generating for him. He had quietly asked Omerta and Ochoa to keep an eye on the man more than once, for fear that he was running himself into the ground. Or a hospital bed. But while Taiyang was absolutely relentless in his pursuit of cleaning up the streets, Junior's watchmen reported that he wasn't burning himself out.
The beauty of the whole thing was that by having Taiyang handling the lion's share of security and cleanup, Junior was left with more resources that he could put towards his less savory enterprises. Actual shakedowns, elimination of competition, rooting out corruption elsewhere in the city… And with the money flowing in, so too were the applications from hired guns looking to join a growing business.
If Junior ever saw Blondie again, he might actually consider making her a Strawberry Sunrise with one of those little umbrella thingies on top.
"You got a minute, boss?"
Junior looked up from his desk to see The Girls standing in the doorway.
"For you two?" He asked, leaning back in his chair and gesturing for Melanie and Miltia to have a seat. "Always."
The two Huntresses came in, and Junior was surprised to see that they weren't accompanied by Omerta and Ochoa. The four of them were not on assignment at the moment, so it was perfectly fine that they weren't attached at the hip, but the look on Miltia's face told Junior that they weren't here for mere idle chatter. And lately, the Malachites always brought in the covert operatives when they came to talk business.
"Enjoying your time off?" Junior asked, getting up from his seat to fix some cocktails for the three of them. He knew what his star associates liked, and he also knew that they'd come to expect the courtesy of refreshments during these sort of business conversations.
"Moreso now than when the reconstruction efforts were just starting," Melanie said, watching as Junior prepared their beverages.
Miltia nodded in agreement. "Some of our preferred designer stores are finally back in business, so there's something to do now."
"You're welcome for that, by the way," Junior said, sampling his own drink. It needed a little more Mistrali Vermouth. "Or rather, you're welcome on behalf of Taiyang."
He could practically hear the Malachites exchanging glances behind his back. So it was Tai that they were here to talk with him about.
With the drinks finished, Junior turned around and slid the two for the girls across the table before taking a seat in front of his own glass.
"So are the two of you looking for another assignment, or you still have some R&R that needs doing?" Junior asked. Part of him suspected that he already knew the answer.
"Another job…" Melanie said, hesitantly.
"... In a manner of speaking," Miltia finished.
When Junior said nothing, they pressed on with an explanation.
"Things have quieted down around here."
"Pretty significantly."
Junior nodded. A lot of the competition that had long been a thorn in his side had either been absorbed or eliminated, thanks in no small part to the tactical and strategic acumen of Bradford's gifts.
"Sure, there are still things that need doing. There are always things that need doing."
"But, for the most part? It feels like our talents are becoming, ah…"
"Underutilized?" Junior guessed.
The two of them nodded.
Junior swirled his alcohol and watched it settle back down. "I have to admit, I've been getting the same feeling."
It wasn't a lie, either. It was always a comforting feeling knowing that he had an ace in the hole, sure, but the fact of the matter was that Junior was running out of high-risk missions that needed the special touch of his dream team. And thanks to Omerta and Ochoa's hard work towards making Junior's rank-and-file personnel become actually competent…
But the Malachites didn't come in here just to point out a problem. Years of working with Junior had taught them to always have an angle. He didn't expect this conversation to be any different.
"I take it you have a proposal?" he asked.
"We do," Melanie answered. "One that will solve two problems, actually."
Junior hesitated, then guessed, "Taiyang?"
"Taiyang," Melanie confirmed.
Damn. It was too much to hope that the guy would stick around long-term to help out. Junior wasn't about to be an ungrateful shit for all the work that Taiyang had already done, however. Life was a series of transactional ventures, and Junior's latest associate had more than paid for his half of the bargain up front. Honor and respectability dictated that Junior at least consider whatever it was the Malachites had in mind for Dad.
"The work you've given him lets the guy stay focused on something productive, but… well, we think it's starting to be less effective the longer he's at it," Melanie explained.
"It's not exactly new work anymore, is it?" Junior mused. "Same old same old means his mind has room to wander."
"Exactly."
And if his worry starts to get the better of him, he's not gonna be effective for much longer. He'll make mistakes, some of which might be costly. Junior could get screwed over, and Taiyang would feel bad about it and probably spiral into even more incompetence because of it. A bad deal all around, and if the Twins were already noticing signs of him slipping? It was gonna happen sooner rather than later.
Junior sighed, and stared in annoyance at the glass in front of him for daring to be empty.
"Alright, then. What's the plan for Dad's retirement?"
Miltia drained her own glass, and that was encouragement enough for Junior to get up and fix another round of drinks while she answered his question.
"Well, we know that XCOM is looking for the kid. Pretty easy to guess that's why they blew up a secret lab in Atlas."
"Or part of the reason, at the very least," Melanie added.
Miltia nodded. "So if they're focused on finding her, it might help for Taiyang to be with them. Because then he's not left wondering how close XCOM is to finding his daughter."
"Might also make his problem worse," Junior pointed out. "If they haven't found Shortstack yet, the fear of the unknown might drive him crazy. Especially if they don't have any leads."
"Wouldn't he be going more crazy if he's stuck here doing nothing but hoping that someone else might find his daughter?"
Junior wasn't really planning to argue the point. He was playing Devil's Advocate more than anything, since he already agreed with the suggestion. With the drinks finished, he sat down at the desk once more and passed two to the girls and kept the third for himself.
"Alright, so Taiyang's going on a road trip," Junior agreed. "Or an air trip. Or whatever. How are we going to get him to XCOM? We know they're in Atlas, for now at least, but is it really as simple as just booking a flight over there and strolling on up to their ship?"
Melanie shrugged. "Could be. But if anyone knows the answer to that, it's Omerta and Ochoa."
Junior rubbed his temples. "So I'm losing them, too…"
"Losing them from here," Miltia noted, "Where, as we've already established, you don't really need skilled commandos anymore."
Wait, hold up. That was their argument for why he didn't need them here.
"So you're asking me to lose you two, Omerta and Ochoa, and Taiyang?" He asked. "All at once?"
The Twins exchanged glances, then nodded to their boss's question. "Basically, yeah."
"But," Miltia quickly said. "But instead of 'losing' us, you should look at it more like 'reallocating' us."
Junior wordlessly took a drink from his glass while he waited for her to explain.
"XCOM's been going on a world tour," Miltia continued. "First Vale, then Menagerie, and now Atlas. Provided that they don't get shut down for their latest stunt, they'll probably keep going, right?"
"Right…"
"Wouldn't that be a golden opportunity for us to make some connections?" Melanie asked.
Now that was an idea that gave Junior pause. He already knew that their first suggestion was going to be their Auntie in Mistral. He knew they exchanged letters and niceties every now and then, but having a face-to-face connection? One where they would actually sit down and talk business?
Even if they were continents apart, having cooperation among syndicates would be useful. 'Scratch your back if you'll scratch mine,' and all that.
"Interesting," Junior mused. "So you'd be travelling to get Tai hooked up with XCOM, but then while you're out there…"
"... We'd be putting our talents to good use," Miltia finished.
Junior finished his drink and leaned back in his chair. "Well color me impressed, girls. You managed to take the idea of me losing five of my best people, and phrase it in a way that makes it sound attractive."
Melanie smirked. "You can think of it as an audition for you to get a taste of how we'd be able to work any overseas contacts."
"Fair enough," Junior laughed. "Alright, I'll greenlight this. Go let Omerta and Ochoa know, and make whatever arrangements you need with Taiyang so you can all leave as soon as you see fit. Just keep me in the loop on it."
"Of course," Miltia said, standing up alongside her sister.
The two of them strode out of the room, leaving Junior to his thoughts about their new proposition. He'd need some time to think about what sort of arrangements he'd like for them to push with any syndicates they chose to work with. What types of benefits he wanted them to get out of any kind of cooperation. A conversation with Omerta and Ochoa for their advice was likely in order as well.
This could be interesting. Lucrative, even.
And if there was ever a time to try out a change? Junior couldn't think of a better one than now.
"We've lost Sienna."
Corsac let out a quiet sigh at his brother's observation. He had reached the same conclusion several days ago, but hesitated to voice his fears.
"Sadly," he responded. "And we were so close to securing her as a partner in our work."
Fennec shook his head at their misfortune. "First Brother Taurus. Then Sister Amitola. And now Lady Khan? Our commitment is truly being tested, Brother."
"Indeed."
Of the three, Corsac believed that the loss of Adam Taurus was the biggest blow. With his indomitable spirit and drive to succeed at any cost, he could have done great things for the Fang.
The true Fang, that is.
"But what to do?" Fennec asked, taking up a position next to his brother at the altar in their quiet, unassuming safehouse. "We cannot afford to have XCOM continuing to make inroads with the people of Menagerie."
Corsac nodded. He had been meditating on that very question. How to deal with Lady Khan now that she had been cozying up to XCOM and not ADVENT?
"Perhaps we can kill two birds with one stone," he mused.
Fennec cast a sideways glance at his brother. "Assassinate Sienna and pin it on XCOM?"
Corsac smiled.
"Precisely."
Fennec grew quiet, and Corsac waited while his brother considered the idea. He was almost certainly running through the same scenarios and considerations that Corsac had entertained when the thought first occurred to him (and refused to go away).
"They've been making their presence more known in Kuo Kuana," Fennec said. "It shouldn't be difficult to imply that they killed her as part of a power grab."
Corsac nodded. He had drawn the same conclusion. Even though XCOM was acting friendly with Lady Khan now, it would be trivial to explain that as them trying to get close to her so that they could seize the Khan's authority once she let her guard down.
The bigger question was how exactly to murder her and plant evidence that it was XCOM's doing?
"Witnesses would make the job… difficult," Fennec continued.
Again, Corsac nodded in agreement. Witnesses would be able to 'confirm' that XCOM was at fault, which would give more authority to the claim of their guilt. At the same time, witnesses posed the risk of an uncontrolled third party, a dimension of complexity that could make it easier for the job to go wrong. For something like this? The chance of being caught out as the true perpetrators was too great. They simply could not afford the risk.
"There are those outposts that the XCOM scum have constructed," Corsac suggested. "Remote enough to be away from prying eyes, and since they are the handiwork of XCOM…"
"... It would be even more believable that they were the ones who killed Lady Khan," Fennec finished, smiling at his brother's ingenuity. "But how do we lure her to the outpost?"
"More importantly, how do we lure her to the outpost alone?" Corsac corrected.
"Alone," Fennec agreed.
The pair grew silent again, and Corsac watched the shadows flicker on the walls of the room as the flames of the altar danced in place. Could he draw inspiration from them? From the shadows?
Perhaps an illusionary threat would be enough to draw her out. 'Intel' from one of their spies about rumblings in the desert that required her attention. Corsac knew that Lady Khan prided herself on staying one step ahead of any threats that could call her tactical prowess into question.
She would not be able to resist learning of the possibility of a new one lurking in the desert sands.
"Leave that particular detail to me, Brother," He said, smiling at Fennec.
Fennec nodded, trusting without question that Corsac's plan would suffice.
"Then it's decided. We will just need to activate a cell to aid us in our work."
"It shall be done," Corsac answered. Fennec stepped back from the altar, bowing respectfully to both his brother and the symbol of their glorious movement.
"I will let our friends in ADVENT know," He said. "That way, they won't be caught off-guard when the news breaks."
"They might even be able to lend some support when the time comes to act," Corsac suggested.
Fennec smiled. "Indeed, Brother. Long live the White Fang."
Corsac bowed his head and returned his attention to the altar.
"Long live the White Fang."
"Good afternoon, Mother."
Willow looked up from her seat, and Weiss wondered if today was the day that she'd be greeted by an actual smile. She'd had several meetings with Willow ever since that first one at the edge of the garden before the gala. It was always in the same spot, and there was always alcohol involved.
"I… see you come with a gift," Willow said, nodding at the bottle in Weiss's hand.
"Atlesian Brut," Weiss answered, lifting up the bottle and gently placing it on the table next to her mother's chair. "You always seem to enjoy this one the most, so I thought…"
She'd also thought that it would be a nice way to come full-circle to their first conversation where Willow had searched within herself and found just enough courage to do the right thing for once in her life.
There! That was definitely a smile, even if it was a small one, and even if it was just because Weiss had brought a bottle of wine with her.
"How very considerate," Willow said, gesturing to the empty seat. "Thank you."
An invitation to sit? Willow was in rare form this morning. Usually, she didn't make any sort of motion one way or another, as though it didn't matter whether Weiss chose to stay or leave. Perhaps they had done this enough times now where Willow had come to expect Weiss to stay whenever she made a point of saying hello.
Well, it would be incredibly foolish for Weiss to turn down such a rare display of motherly courtesy, so she smiled at Willow and took the empty seat.
"How is the view this morning?" She asked, looking out over the edge of the garden.
"Vast," Willow responded, "as always."
The question was more of a formality at this point, for Willow's answer never changed. Not that the response was wrong, for the view was certainly impressive. Originally, Weiss thought that her mother preferred this spot because it was out of the way and nobody bothered her here, except for the occasional servant who brought her a resupply of alcohol. After all, it was "her" garden, and the residents of the manor knew that it was best to just leave Willow alone in her gilded cage.
But as Weiss spent more time out here with her mother, she suspected that the view spoke to Willow.
The view overlooking the rest of Atlas was an obvious reminder of her family's influence and power, but that was merely the superficial interpretation of what Willow saw. More than just the view of the kingdom (or rather in addition to that), the view also provided the harsh, stark backdrop of the unforgiving frozen wastes that lay beyond Atlas. The awe-inspiring power of nature, the seemingly-infinite reach of her icy touch… there was a strength in it that nobody could deny.
A strength that, in spite of its magnitude, humanity had managed to overcome. A kingdom that not only flourished within the frigid grasp of the north, but became a paragon of technology and scientific advancement for the rest of Remnant. Champions that strove to keep the world at peace by pushing back against the darkness with superior firepower and discipline.
And, for better or for worse, the Schnee family name had become inextricably linked with the kingdom's growth.
Sure, most of that was Jacques's doing, after he had inherited the SDC from Willow's own father, but the fact remained that their family was an integral part of Atlas's success, perhaps even its survival at this point. While the amassing of power and wealth was what Jacques cared about, Weiss liked to believe that her mother focused on a different aspect of the relationship between Atlas, the SDC, and the Winds of the North.
Pride.
Pride in the fact that her family was part of humanity's survival, its growth within the harsh confines of this world. Dust was mankind's lifeblood, and the SDC made sure that the arteries and veins of Remnant were well-nourished by acting as their beating heart. Weiss smiled when she realized she could very well liken her family's product to Frank Herbert's Spice: the world and its residents depended on its flow for survival.
But that pride came at what cost to Willow herself? Nicholas was able to maintain an excellent reputation while he ran the company, but it only flourished under Jacques's cruel and unfeeling leadership once he took over from his father-in-law. The SDC became vital to the world at large, but it lost its honor along the way. Could Willow really believe that her family's legacy worked with the world's best interests in mind when it ground its workers down into listless husks, devoid of hope who could only focus on trying to live one day at a time?
The view from her garden, Weiss believed, was Willow's way of telling herself what her family could have become had it not fallen to Jacques's greed. It was her way of facing her own failures for her inability to live up to her father's vision, as she was too cowardly to stand up to her wretched husband.
… Or was she?
"It is beautiful," Weiss agreed. "After yesterday's storm, the clear skies and crisp air really give the sense that today is full of potential. The opportunity for progress to follow after uncertain turmoil."
She glanced at Willow and added, "Wouldn't you agree, mother?"
Wait… when did two full glasses of Brut appear on the table?
"I thought subtlety was your strong suit, Weiss," Willow commented, grabbing the nearer glass and sampling the silky liquid it held. "Even your father could have seen through that one."
Oof. When Willow Schnee calls you out for being obvious…
"But I'm not talking to Father," Weiss countered, picking up her own glass, "and you are trying to dodge my question."
She could feel Willow's annoyance at not being allowed to sidestep a question that she didn't like. But maybe they had enough of these gardenside chats that Willow knew that her daughter wouldn't let go of the subject until she had an answer. Then again, that was probably obvious after their first meeting out here.
"What opportunity?" Willow answered, sighing slightly before taking another sip from her glass. "The world is still the same as it was before things turned messy for a couple of hours. The poors are still upset at their lot in life, ADVENT is still 'protecting' Atlas, the politicians have a scapegoat to blame for their problems, and your father still runs the SDC. Nothing changed."
"Your daughter changed," Weiss said, her eyes focused on the view before them, "And I'm not talking about me."
That caused Willow to grow quiet, and Weiss was perfectly content to enjoy the overlook while she waited for her mother to chew on that thought.
"How…" Willow started, hesitant to finish her question. "How bad… was she?"
Now was not the time to sugarcoat things.
Weiss locked eyes with Willow and answered, "A prisoner within her own body. A slave to an intruder forced into her head. I had to watch, mother, as that twisted scientist that father cozied up with pulled on the leash he crafted for her. And I had to watch as she realized she was powerless to fight against it."
Willow's face was unreadable. If years of alcoholic nihilism did anything to her benefit, it was the world-class poker face that she'd learned to develop. All that Weiss could hope for was that the truth of what Winter had become was shocking enough to actually get through the constant haze swirling protectively around her mother's mental state.
And hopefully it would be enough to make room for the follow through.
"We would not have had the opportunity to help her if we never knew where to look."
Willow took another drink from her glass, and Weiss liked to think that her mother was stalling for more time while she grappled with the fact that her actions had an actual, tangible impact on someone close to her. Would it be enough for Willow to admit, to herself as much as Weiss, that she'd done the right thing?
It might take another garden visit or two before Weiss might learn the answer to that one. And depending on how long XCOM was planning on staying in Atlas…
But there was that hearing coming up, right? Willow wasn't wrong about the "politicians finding a scapegoat for their problems" bit of her doom and gloom. Even though it was coming out that Merlot was a madman that needed to be stopped, the government was fixated on the fact that XCOM had caused destruction of Atlesian property, and was now demanding answers.
Well, Weiss was sure that Bradford would be all too happy to give them answers, regardless of whether or not they were the ones the politicians wanted to hear.
"What will you do now?" Willow asked, her voice quieter than usual.
Weiss probably answered faster than her mother would have liked.
"Fight for those who cannot fight for themselves," she said.
There wasn't any other answer, honestly. Now that she'd finally re-made contact with XCOM, now that she had Winter on the Avenger, had Ruby on the Avenger...
"And those that you leave behind…?"
It was Weiss's turn to go quiet. Willow had found enough courage within herself to do the right thing once, but that didn't make her a changed woman. Whitley, too, was still stuck under Jacques's oppressive heel. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that Weiss belonged with XCOM, but that meant she had to accept the consequences of her choice.
"We don't leave people behind," Weiss answered. "We give them the means to empower themselves."
Willow was no different, whether she knew it or not. Odei didn't toil and sacrifice to build her network in Atlas only to let it sit back and do nothing when a Little Black Book came along and offered the chance to allow for positive change to happen among the kingdom's elites.
One more sip was enough for Weiss to finish her drink. She got up from her seat, smoothed out her dress, and smiled at her mother.
"I do enjoy these conversations we have," she said, though she noted that Willow had returned her gaze to the mountains beyond the floating city. "Is there anything you would like me to bring for the next one?"
Willow was quiet, and Weiss was almost afraid that her mother was pointedly ignoring her out of childish protest.
When Willow finally gave an answer, Weiss almost fell over.
"No," Willow said. "You are enough."
Mikhail Sokolov tapped on the door frame leading to Sienna Khan's office.
"You asked to see me?"
Sienna nodded. While Misha was usually pretty good at reading people from their facial expressions and posture, he noted that Sienna's body language was quite guarded. Whether that was a skill she'd learned and put to frequent use, or it was something she was putting up specifically because she knew he was a spook, the man didn't know.
What he did know was that she had, in fact, asked to see him.
Discreetly.
She nodded and waved him in, her eyes focused on something sitting on her desk.
Without looking up, she asked, "Were you…?"
"No."
He may not have had chameleon skin like some of XCOM's other soldiers, but the man prided himself on his skills as a covert operative. That included catching on to when he had a tail that needed to be given the slip.
Finally, Sienna looked up and visually acknowledged her guest.
"Good. It's not that I don't want to be seen working with XCOM-"
"And here I was thinking that you just liked Bucky more than me," Misha teased.
Sienna rolled her eyes.
"My point is that I don't want to give people the impression that I'm playing favorites."
"And why wouldn't you?" Misha asked. "On the one hand, you have XCOM rallying the youth to help strengthen Kuo Kuana's position against the Grimm, improve logistical supply lines throughout the city, and keep the Grimm population in check. On the other, you have ADVENT doing…"
He rubbed his chin and made a show of looking down at his shoes in an effort to think before looking back up at Sienna and asking, "What is it that they do again?"
If he had a bit of a smug smile on his face while asking, well… that was obviously unintentional.
"Keeping the peace down at the docks," Sienna countered. "But you won't hear me arguing against the point you're trying to make. That doesn't change my concern for the situation, unfortunately."
"Is that why you asked for me?" Misha asked, his face turning serious.
She knew that he was an information gatherer. Not because he said it, and not because he made regular reports to her, but Misha knew that Bradford had provided the Khan with dossiers on the operatives being stationed on Menagerie. So she must have known that he would happily be of service if she asked. And it sounded like she might now be asking.
Sienna's attention returned to her desk, and Misha could now see that there was a piece of paper sitting on it. That it wasn't a scroll was the first detail that caught the operative's attention. Even in a place as remote as Kuo Kuana, technology was still pretty common. If someone had sent Sienna Khan a hand-written letter, that was… an interesting choice.
"What do you know about the Albain brothers?" she asked, looking up from the paper once more.
Ah.
Well, that answered a few questions.
Misha nodded at the paper. "From them, I take it?"
Sienna nodded.
"Are they the ones complaining about your cooperation with XCOM?"
The Khan sat back in her chair and pushed the paper towards Misha as he took his own seat across from her.
"They don't mention XCOM at all."
Then what was this all about? Misha knew that the Albains were… well, 'weird' would be putting it lightly. From what Misha had gathered (and from what he had seen), they were the quintessential Purists. The goal of the White Fang was all well and good, and Misha respected Sienna Khan as a capable leader who was fighting for the betterment of her people. But the Albains?
The Albains drank the Kool-Aid. Hard.
"They're probably not happy that you're fine working with a group of humans," Misha mused.
It was entirely possible that they thought XCOM was a 'corrupting' influence that could make their High Leader grow soft, become less focused on the plight of the faunus, or some equally stupid garbage.
"Same can be said about ADVENT," Sienna pointed out. "Led by a human, and even though it's hard to tell under those helmets…"
Good point. Sure, they might have a larger percentage of faunus among their ranks, but for fanatics like the Albains? Anything less than 100% would surely be not good enough.
"So they're upset that you're siding with XCOM over ADVENT," Misha said.
Sienna nodded. "Or possibly they're upset that I'm siding with anyone at all."
Yeah, Mikhail could see that.
"Does Lady Khan think the White Fang is so weak," he imagined them asking, "that it needs to rely on human allies?"
Even so...
"My gut's telling me that they sympathize with ADVENT," Misha said while he scanned the letter. "It doesn't make complete sense to me just yet, but I have seen them speaking with ADVENT on more than one occasion, as have several of my contacts."
The letter was just as Sienna had said. No mention of either XCOM nor ADVENT anywhere in it. Just that the Albains had some intel about a new threat in the desert that they wished to inform Sienna of immediately.
Oh, and that she should come alone to avoid word getting back to Kuo Kuana and raising a panic before a proper response to the danger could be mounted.
"Talking doesn't necessarily mean sympathizing," Sienna countered.
Misha smirked. "It is rather suspect when you're trying to meet in secret."
He had the Viper team to thank for that bit of intel, though he wasn't about to divulge his source to Sienna.
"To what end could they possibly be working towards?" Sienna asked. The expression on her face told Misha that she was intrigued by his intel.
He started to re-read the letter as he answered, "I'd tell you if I knew, but it doesn't add up to me, either. Unless ADVENT is promising them something that makes their cooperation worthwhile. Something that lets them overlook working with humans."
A sort of superweapon that the Albains could use for the benefit of the faunus? They'd be pragmatic enough to accept something like that, and it wouldn't surprise Misha if ADVENT was crazy and/or evil enough to develop such an enticing carrot.
"The Albains were the ones behind that terrorist attack on the Belladonna house," The operative pointed out.
"That was supposedly because they felt Ghira was becoming weak," Sienna said. "And revenge for the death of Adam Taurus at the hands of Belladonna's daughter."
Misha nodded in agreement. "It was also a convenient opportunity for ADVENT to play the hero."
While that may have been true, though, both Misha and Sienna would probably agree that XCOM got the better end of that deal. There had been some rumblings before the Menagerie Terror Attack about XCOM's humanitarian work, but after taking down the Gigas? That was a big boost to their international name recognition.
But the two of them were still beating around the bush as to why Sienna had called him in here.
Misha slid the letter back towards Sienna and asked, "So what do you want from me?"
"I would have thought that was obvious," The Khan answered, gesturing towards the letter.
"Oh, you mean the extremely obvious trap?" Misha asked.
Was this really what Sienna wanted to ask? Why would the Albains need to have Sienna meet them in a remote location out in the desert in order to tell her about some vague, mysterious new threat when her office was perfectly secure? If they thought they were being clever with their deception, then Misha had to really call into question their competency as covert agents of the White Fang.
Sienna sighed. "Even so, I still need to go."
… Or maybe they knew Sienna Khan better than Misha did.
"Maybe I wasn't clear enough the first time when I told you that it's an extremely obvious trap," the operative said, staring at Sienna. Her facial mask was slipping a bit, though Misha couldn't tell if she looked troubled or frustrated.
"What reason do you have to go if you know that your hosts aren't inviting you in good faith?"
"Because I need to know why they are inviting me," Sienna answered, staring back at Misha. "I need to know what their motive is to try to pull something on me, especially when they are supposed to be working for me."
"For the faunus," Misha corrected. "If they feel like your priorities have changed…"
"They have not," Sienna said, eyes flashing.
Misha put his hands up defensively. "Hey, I'm not the one that needs to know that. But since you're determined to play their game, what do you need from us? I'm sure Steve would be happy to run security for you."
The offer was more of a posturing gesture than anything, though. Misha knew what Sienna was about to say before the words came out of her mouth.
"Can't. If the Albains see that I'm not coming alone, then they're not going to play ball. Especially if I'm showing up with XCOM as security."
Misha sighed. Well, at least he knew which outpost the Albains wanted Sienna to go to, and when. Even if the Khan was rejecting XCOM's protection, that didn't mean that Rogers was going to just shrug his shoulders and say, 'Oh well.'
They just needed to figure out how they could help without scaring off the Albains before Sienna got what she needed from them.
"Very well," The operative said, standing back up and giving Sienna a playful bow. "If I cannot dissuade you from going, then at least I can confirm your suspicions about it being an extremely-"
"Obvious trap," Sienna said, rolling her eyes while trying to hide a smile. "I think you've made that abundantly clear."
Misha's expression turned serious for a moment as he prepared to depart.
"Just be careful, alright? I know that sounds like obvious advice-"
Almost as obvious as the Albains's obvious trap.
"... But I will admit it comes from a selfish place. XCOM cannot afford to lose any allies, Sienna. Especially one such as you."
Sienna smirked. "Who says we're allies?"
And just like that, Misha was back to smiling. He'd made his point, so there was no point trying to hammer it further while aggravating Sienna.
"Of course," He said. "Silly me."
He turned around and started to head out the door.
"Well, I'm off to do some more non-ally things like check in with some of your other not-allies to see what sort of unallied work they've been up to. Feel free to ring me at any time. I'm happy to be of service."
Sienna didn't say anything, so Misha simply stepped through the entryway and closed the door behind him before pulling out his scroll to message Steve.
They had some planning to do and preparations to make.