A/N: Holy shit, it's been over a month since I last posted. I was trying to get the entirety of the Menagerie fight crammed into one chapter, but... there's way too much stuff that I wanted to happen for that to work. The good news is that the rest of the fight is mostly done at this point, so the next chapter should be coming out (relatively) soon-ish, but I figured I'd drop this chapter now so that y'all had something to enjoy while I wrap up the Menagerie Arc.
Bradford watched the sunset from his seat next to Beagle on the bridge of the Avenger. The two of them, along with Firebrand, agreed to take the night shift as the ship finished the last leg of its journey towards Menagerie. By the pilot's estimation, they were due to arrive in about an hour, so Beagle decided to pass the time by flipping through some channels to see what was broadcasting on the CCTS.
And as luck would have it, their favorite Maiden was on for another interview at the VNN.
"Welcome back to the Morning Report. I'm Lisa Lavender, and with me once again is Cinder Fall to discuss the recent accusations by XCOM. Welcome back, Miss Fall."
"Thank you Lisa. I'd like to start out by stating the obvious: The claims made by this Teasdale fugitive are absolutely false. The mere notion that I would try to kill Pyrrha Nikos, a shining beacon of hope on Remnant, is ludicrous. It goes against everything I stand for, and it sickens me that XCOM would stoop so low as to insinuate something so vile."
"Thank you for that assurance, Miss Fall. It does raise an interesting point, though. Pyrrha Nikos was seen at the Vytal Festival, but she hasn't been heard from since the catastrophe. If her name is being thrown around by XCOM, why hasn't she made a public statement about it?"
"I couldn't say, Lisa. Perhaps an unfortunate injury did befall Mistral's four-time champion, and she is spending some much-needed time to rest. Or maybe she is taking the high road, and has chosen to stay out of this ugly business with XCOM. I only hope that she is doing well, or that she is on a speedy road to recovery."
"I think everyone can agree with you on that. Now let's talk about this recording..."
Bradford cast a raised eyebrow over at Beagle. "How did you get ahold of that, anyway? It wasn't from the bodycams, since those streamed their data straight to Mission Control. You know. On Earth."
"You've got Shen to thank for that little stunt." Beagle grinned, "Even while under the stress of being separated from his daughter, Santa was still thinking about the possibility of the broadcast getting interrupted."
"Ah, yes. XCOM's undeniable 'proof' that I tried to kill Pyrrha Nikos. You said it yourself, Lisa: what do I have to do with that? If XCOM was so intent on getting the message out, why didn't they do so when I first restored the CCTS? Why wait until it was politically convenient?"
"... and?"
"He saved the recording in the tower's registry, changed both the name and file extension so that it wasn't recognizable as an audio file, and retrieved it remotely once the CCTS was back up."
"Wait… Shen has access to the CCTS? How did the Black Queen not notice?"
"Beats me. Shen thinks that the operator's arrogance is what let him pull it off. They probably assumed that Cinder stopped the message in time, and didn't bother to do a full file verification of the tower's systems. You'll want to ask him about the details, though. If we try to do something that's more obvious than pulling one file out of the system, I don't think his backdoor will stay hidden for very long."
"Good to know."
"That's a point I hadn't considered."
"This, Miss Lavender, is a perfect example of why I detest XCOM. How long have they been sitting on that recording? How long were they willing to keep the people of Remnant waiting, in fear, before they tried to restore some hope? ADVENT restored the CCTS, and ADVENT is at Ground Zero, working to help the people of Vale in their hour of need."
"Oh please," Beagle said, rolling his eyes, "Where the fuck was ADVENT when Grimm were on a murder rampage?"
"It's amazing how easy it is for her to lie, isn't it?" Firebrand quipped from the helm.
"Even more amazing that some people are eating it up." Beagle countered.
"And I believe I speak for everyone when I say-"
Lisa abruptly cut herself off and put a finger to her ear. Her eyes grew wide in shock as she asked, "Are you certain? What's your-? Okay…"
The news anchor cleared her throat and looked up apologetically at her waiting guest. "My apologies, Miss Fall, but we have some… incredibly horrific breaking news." She turned back to the camera and clarified, "I've just received word that a terrorist bombing was carried out on Menagerie that resulted in the destruction of the house belonging to the Chieftain of the nation's population: Ghira Belladonna."
Beagle groaned. "Oh you have got to be shitting me."
Bradford was already making his way back to his station on the bridge as Lisa continued. "The Belladonnas appear to be unharmed, but the people of Menagerie are now panicking, especially with the impending Grimm assault that is sure to be headed their way."
"This is Central." Bradford barked into his intercom, "Sounding general quarters. I need all hands prepped for combat. Menagerie just got hit by a terrorist attack, and is about to be buried under a wave of Grimm. We very likely have a full-fledged Terror Mission on our hands. Strike Teams One through Four: suit up, check your gear, and get ready to go in hot. Strike Teams Five and Six: you're on standby for reserve deployment. Reapers: prep to deploy with your assigned Strike Team. That includes Viper operatives as well. All other personnel: man your battle stations."
"ADVENT stands ready to assist in any capacity we can." Cinder announced from the screen, "Our forces on Menagerie are ready to repel the attack, and we have Atlesian support from a battlegroup in the vicinity."
"Punch it, Firebrand." Beagle ordered, "I don't think we can afford to spend an hour getting to our destination."
Bradford continued giving his orders to the crew. "Odin and Gizmo will be deploying with the initial Strike force. The remaining MECs will remain onboard the Avenger. Jaegers, report to the flight deck for aerial defense and ground bombardment. Talos, stand by for supplementary deployment.
"This is our chance to push back against Cinder's claims, people. And besides, BFG and Sabretooth need our support on this. We're going all-in to help the people of Menagerie and show Remnant that this tactic will not work under our watch. Vigilo Confido."
Mikhail gasped as a bucket of ice water snapped him back to the realm of the living. As his senses worked in overdrive to assess his situation, the first thing the operative noticed was the uncomfortable bindings that restrained both his arms and legs and kept them strapped to the chair he was in. The second thing he noticed was the blindingly bright light shining in his face.
As his memory returned, it didn't take the covert operative long to piece together who his host was.
"Hello, my friends." He called out, blinking in an effort to adjust to the bright light, "I am awake, so we can commence with the questioning and torturing. I'm afraid that I am on a tight schedule, and so I really don't have time for waiting arou-GUUHHH!"
Mikhail gasped as another bucket of water was poured over his head.
"As fun as that may be," He sighed, "It does nothing to move things along. So let's cut the shit and get going, shall we?"
"Let's make one thing crystal clear around here." A voice said from his one o'clock. A shadow stepped in front of the light, and Mikhail's eyes adjusted to reveal a young woman with speckled skin and what she probably hoped was an angry face staring at him. "I am the one asking the questions and giving the orders. You are to speak when I allow it."
Mikhail stared at his captor, fighting as hard as he could to hold back laughter. She took his silence for submission, and continued. "Good. I'm glad you're able to be reasonable-"
Nope. Can't do it. "PPFFFTTTAHAHAHA." The shocked, embarrassed expression coming from the girl almost made Mikhail feel bad for her, but that didn't change the absurdity of the situation. "I'm-AHAHAHA- I'm sorry for my AHAHA rudeness. It's just that… it's adorable that you think you're being-"
Mikhail's world turned sideways as the girl delivered a swift kick to the side of his head and sent him and the chair flying towards the floor. He grunted painfully as he collided with the wood, and the ordeal knocked all the humor out of him. He still didn't respect this kid as an interrogator, but she seemed likely to accidentally kill him in her efforts to play the bad cop. And a dead Mikhail wouldn't be very helpful for XCOM.
"Next will be a prick from my weapon." She growled, "Believe me when I say you won't enjoy that."
"I didn't enjoy getting slammed into the ground, either." Mikhail answered with an eyeroll.
A pair of burly arms grabbed the chair from behind and roughly pulled the operative back into an upright position.
"Since you're so eager to get on with the interrogation, why don't you start by telling us why we found you lurking around in the Belladonna house?"
Mikhail raised an eyebrow, "Seriously? I think you and I both know the answer to that one."
The woman brandished her weapon: a weird, segmented rapier-looking thing with a sharp tip. "Don't make me ask again."
"To stop you assholes from fucking up Ghira's speech." Mikhail looked around. His eyes were starting to adjust to the bright light, and he was get better at making out the other shapes in the room. "Nice work on that one, by the way. Great job demonstrating the unity of the faunus. Could you explain to me the point you're trying to make by bringing a horde of Grimm down on our heads?"
"I'm asking the questions."
Mikhail shrugged. "Fine. Next."
The woman stared at him with a dangerous look in her eyes. Mikhail was having fun pushing her buttons, but maybe he should ease off the gas a little bit just in case she decided to stab him with that thing.
"Who else is with you?"
Mikhail looked around the room, saw another couple of figures in one corner with a first aid kit, and grinned. "Had my buddy watching my back, though it looks like you've already become acquainted with his rifle. Hogarth sends his regards, Jane!" He grinned as the deer faunus glared daggers at him.
"That's not her name." His interrogator said, annoyed.
"Yeah, but you wouldn't understand why we call her that. We've been keeping an eye on her for awhile, you see." The interrogator froze at the implication that her agent was being watched. Mikhail grinned, deciding to twist the knife just a little bit further. "Jane Doe's been preeeeeetty busy this last week. Guess we know why now. How's that ass feeling, sweetheart? Was it worth it?"
His interrogator let out a frustrated, strangled noise, grabbed Mikhail by the hair, and pulled him so that her face was inches from his.
"I don't think you understand the gravity of your situation." She sneered, "We're going to question you. We're going to torture you when you stop cooperating. And then we're going to kill you once you're completely useless to us. You are going to die here, and nobody -nobody- is coming to help. Do you understand?!"
Mikhail chuckled, though it was a dark chuckle and nothing like the uncontrolled laughter from before. The woman threw his head back and drew herself up to her full height as the operative regained his composure.
"Perhaps I should tell you a story before you start with the torture. Seems like you think you have all the time in the world, and you might even enjoy it." He noticed with a smile that he had the curiosity of several figures in the room, including Jane. "I'm not from here, nor am I from anywhere you know of. I hail from a nation known as 'Russia.'"
"Never heard of it."
Mikhail sighed. "I literally just said that. Now, I admittedly don't know much about the history of Remnant, but Russia? We were involved in a war. A great, terrible war. Full of victory and failure, heroics and sacrifice. Many people, companies, and battalions from all sides were immortalized by the bravery of their actions, but us Russians? We had one regiment in particular, a wing of bombers, that will forever live in history: The 588th.
"Their equipment was nothing special. Inferior, in fact, to the enemies." Mikhail looked around at the curious faces of his captors and smirked, "Not unlike your little operation, I daresay. But fancy weapons and gear didn't matter for the all-women 588th. So quiet were they, so skilled were the pilots in their craft, that the enemy never heard them coming. They were hard to shoot down and nearly impossible to see in the starlit sky.
"Under the cover of night, death came like a whisper on the wind, a quiet sigh that sealed the doom of the poor, unfortunate souls caught in their crosshairs. Their foes dreaded nightfall, as it only meant that these fighters flying straight from the depths of hell itself had another chance to bring down the heavens upon them. So deadly, so unstoppable were they, that the enemy soon gave a name to them. A name fearfully whispered by those who knew their time had come: The Night Witches."
Several of the figures in the room started to give each other nervous glances, which only egged Mikhail on. "It's no exaggeration to say that XCOM has some Night Witches of its own. Jane has already had her first run-in with one, but Hogarth is not alone." Mikhail stared evenly at his captor, whose expression was contorted with a mixture of anger and concern. "So ask me your questions, for I will be happy to answer them. Render your torture, for I have made peace with my God and care not what you try to inflict upon me. Kill me if you must, but that will only seal your fate. The Night Witches will come. They will find me. And if I am dead? They will come for you next. And you will never hear them coming."
His interrogator stared at him, and Mikhail could tell she was doing her best to conceal her nerves in front of the others. Her friends, too, were looking at one another, and then around the room at the slightest creak and cough. In the silence, Mikhail cracked a toothy grin and asked, "Well then? Shall we begin?"
"Citizens of Menagerie, this is Ghira Belladonna. As you are well aware, we are facing an imminent crisis."
Blake and Yang looked at each other as they stood side-by-side with a detachment from Menagerie's militia. Forces dispatched from the island's White Fang mustered behind them, and Yang's constant side-eye glances told Blake all she needed to know about her partner's opinion of their reinforcements. Even so, Blake knew that they couldn't afford to reject the White Fang's assistance in this fight, nor would the people of Menagerie even think of doing so.
To their front, Blake saw the array of static defenses carefully developed by Menagerie's horticulturists. With the ever-present threat of Grimm on their doorstep, the citizens of Menagerie had practically turned barricades into an artform. Dense thorn bushes choked off any easy pathways into Kuo Kuana and funnelled the Grimm towards the main defense Sectors where the landscape made the creation of a complete wall impossible. But that didn't stop the faunus from building pit traps, spiked barricades, trip wires… when the Grimm hordes came knocking, any and every advantage was important.
Sentry towers equipped with searchlights and automatic weapon emplacements served as the last line of defense before the road led into the town proper. The searchlights would serve the militia throughout the skirmish, but Blake knew that she'd only hear the machine guns barking if the Grimm were winning the fight.
"It matters not why the Grimm are coming. They are coming, and it is up to us to defend everything we hold dear."
XCOM had to have seen the news about the attack, since it only took mere minutes before stations like the VNN were breaking the news. It had been some time since Blake and Yang split up to meet with her parents on Menagerie, so they didn't exactly know what Bradford's next stop was with the Avenger. Still, Blake needed to believe they were on the way to provide the firesupport that her countrymen so desperately needed right now. Sure, the militia and the White Fang would probably succeed at staving off the attack… but at what cost?
"Those who can fight are already taking up arms to defend our corner of Remnant from both land and sea. Both the White Fang and ADVENT stand with our militia, ready and willing to put their lives on the line to defend our home."
As much as Blake hated to admit it, Menagerie needed ADVENT right now. It didn't matter if this played into Cinder's narrative about ADVENT being the good guys. Lives were at stake, and Blake wasn't going to be petty about where the help came from.
She looked to her left and right and could see the fear in the eyes of the guards that stood beside her as they stared into the blackness of the desert. Searchlights swept across the sands as their operators kept an eye out for the first wave of the battle to come. The grizzled veteran on her left, with scars stretching across his face, looked like he was old enough to have fought during the last major Grimm raid that befell Kuo Kuana when she was only a mere child. Surely he knew what horrors lurked above and below the shifting sands that comprised Menagerie's interior.
"Those who cannot, I beg of you to remain inside the emergency shelters while your brothers and sisters in arms fight for everything you hold dear. Stay strong, stay safe, and this will be over before too long."
And yet, despite the fear, Blake also saw determination in the man's eyes. This was Kuo Kuana. His home. The one place on the entire goddamn planet worth fighting for, and he wasn't about to let the Grimm burn it down to ashes.
"We'll get through this." Blake assured him, "We have something worth fighting for."
The guardsman looked back at Blake with a smile, "I know, Lady Belladonna. Thank you."
A streak of black and white flashed across one of the searchlights, and the warning sirens started their whining crescendo within seconds. Floodlights illuminated the battlefield, and the masses of small, agile Grimm sprinting across the sands towards the defensive line.
"Those aren't Beowolves." Yang observed, "Those look like Dingoes."
Indeed, they were small, dog-like Grimm that charged Kuo Kuana's defensive line. Very little bone armor adorned their bodies, but the familiar blood-red eyes and the glint of silvery teeth that reflected in the searchlights still caused the hairs on the back of Blake's neck to stand on end.
"Yeah." Blake agreed, "They're Canis."
The commander of the guard, a Captain Wardlow, wasn't about to let the dogs of war close in for melee unscathed.
"OPEN FIRE."
The militia, the White Fang, ADVENT, and any of the townsfolk who could pull a trigger loosed a hailstorm upon the charging Grimm. The monsters crumbled under the fusilade, but more poured out of the inky darkness to replace those that were lost. The Menagerie fighters put up a valiant defense, and Blake was impressed that the weapons fire managed to hold off the Grimm for a solid minute, but nobody was under the delusion that the creatures of evil could be kept at bay indefinitely.
"BRACE FOR BOMBARDMENT."
Bless those Atlesian warships. The defenders hunkered down as they kept shooting while shells rained down upon the field from on high. The battlefield churned as shells cratered the sand, and swathes of demonic dogs were obliterated as they surged forward towards their prey. Dunes rose and fell under the might of the Atlesian navy, and a cheer erupted from the defenders at sight of such an impressive display of power.
And yet, it was still not enough.
"MELEE."
The shelling continued, but more and more of the dogs were slipping through the volleys and closing into deadly range with the defenders. Razor teeth flashed as the Canis surged forward, their maws open and hungering for flesh.
Rifles were replaced with swords, spears, and axes moments after the command was given, and a guttural yell erupted from the defensive line as they surged forward to meet their assailants. Yang (once again equipped with two Penny-grade prosthetics) blasted her way forward and landed the first strike against the abyssal horde. The skull of her first victim exploded, and she ducked under the leaping counterattack of its brother before she grabbed it by the throat and slammed it into one of the spiked barriers. Blake took a moment to appreciate the artistry in Yang's fluid motions as she blasted from one dog to the next. She pulled Gambol Shroud off her back as she charged forward and joined her partner in the fray.
The Canis were every bit as vicious as Blake remembered them. While the Menagerie ranks were skilled fighters, it didn't take long before cries of pain broke out as the hounds' teeth found their mark. The danger sense granted by her Aura was Blake's saving grace as she twisted, juked, and rolled out of reach time and again. The lack of significant bone armor meant that the monsters fell quickly enough, but their sheer numbers made it obvious that a battle of attrition would not end well for the faunus.
Blake's commlink buzzed. "Bumblebee, this is Hogarth. I've located where Mishka is being held. They have posted a frustrating number of guards, so it will take time to get inside undetected."
A pang of guilt surged through Blake's conscience as she heard the operative's update. Misha probably wouldn't be in such a dire situation if it weren't for Blake's stupidity. She planned to track down Ilia at some point and have some words with her, assuming Yang was wrong about Ilia being part of the terrorist operation.
She hoped to whatever gods were listening that Yang was wrong.
A series of whistling sounds caused Blake to look up in time to see a volley of flaming explosives sail overhead and crash into the midst of the Canis onslaught. Craters of fire blasted holes in the Grimm legion and offered a brief respite for the frontline fighters. Blake, Yang, and a few of Menagerie's homebrewed huntsmen-esque warriors held the line to allow the militia to pull the wounded back to safety and bring in fresh guardsmen to replace them.
"So far so good." Yang called out as she gave another dog a new chest cavity, "These guys aren't so tough once you get the hang of 'em."
"Stop tempting fate to make things worse." Blake sighed. The warning came too late, however, when Blake heard the watchmen in the towers announce the next horror coming their way.
"Cockatrices!" They called out. Sure enough, Blake could see the tall, two-legged birds bounding across the battlefield and weaving between the hounds as they closed in on the fray.
The Canis were dangerous because they could rend flesh with ease if one wasn't careful. The Cockatrices, however, made it harder to defend against the dogs. What those stupid birds lacked in killing power, they made up for in a flurry of feathers and legs that made it hard for their victims to focus on the true threat that came with them. The fact that they could take the last few yards in a bounding leap made it that much harder to kill them before they became a problem.
"Warriors!" The commander shouted, "Focus on the Canis!"
"Yang," Blake called out, "We need to keep the birds off their backs."
Her partner paused to slap a fresh set of shotgun shells into her weapon before she saluted Blake with a grin. "On it."
The first Cockatrice that leapt over the fire fields on its way towards the militia was launched sideways with a pained squawk as Yang crashed into it mid-air before winding her other fist and driving the monster straight down into the dirt. Blake whipped her pistol out to grab the second one by the ankle and yank it down before it could reach the militia. From there, the two of them worked to hold back as many as they could while the guard dealt with wave after wave of the Canis.
But they could only do so much.
Although the Cockatrices cracked one by one under Yang's brutal assault, the time it took to kill three allowed one to slip through and cause problems for the defenders. Blake would pull the Grimm back whenever she could, but it was getting harder and harder to keep up as time -and the Grimm assault- marched onwards.
Even with their training and their aura-enhanced fitness, the battle of attrition was taking its toll as Blake felt her strength start to flag.
"This would-" BANG. "... be a hell of a lot-" CRACK. "... easier if Ruby-" BANG. "... was here."
"I know what you mean," Blake grunted as she yanked a runaway Cockatrice away from the frontline. "I miss your sister too."
"ADVENT is falling back!"
The words sent a chill through Blake's spine, and she looked back at the frontline. Sure enough, she could see the helmeted soldiers dropping back. The shelling from the Atlesian ships had stopped, too. It didn't look like the ADVENT soldiers were panicking as they retreated, though withdrawal was having that effect on the rest of the soldiers left behind.
"We're dead!"
"This is getting out of control!"
"What do we do?!"
"TACTICAL RETREAT!" Wardlow ordered, "GUNS OUT FOR COVERING FIRE. BACK UP TOWARDS THE TOWERS."
The soldiers didn't need to be told twice. The ones out front ducked and scrambled towards the defensive line while bullets whizzed past to drop the dogs hot on their heels. Yang crushed the skull of one more Cockatrice before beating an explosive retreat back towards the rest of the soldiers. As the frontline fell back within range of the watchtowers, the tripwires were pulled taut and the operators revved up their automatic weaponry to begin tearing through the Grimm giving chase.
As the guns sprayed death to keep the Grimm at bay, Blake and Yang caught their breath and fell back to the Captain.
"What happened with ADVENT?" Blake asked.
The man glanced back towards the town. "They said something about getting recalled back to the docks. Same with our air support. I don't doubt that something serious is going on over there if our big guns got rerouted… but it's going to hurt pretty bad unless we get something to replace them, and soon."
"Uhhh… sooner would be better." Yang commented, pointing out into the darkness, "What the hell are those?"
Eight spindly legs, easily two stories tall, stepped into view of the searchlights. Bleached white talons dug into the sand and razor-sharp mandibles clicked in anticipation as the monstrosity lurched forward. Two scythe-like claws flexed and Blake caught a view of the jagged, armored back of the horrific spider. The abdomen, however, was completely exposed, revealing a bulging, roiling, sac that sent a shiver running down Blake's spine.
"Fuck me," the Captain whispered before keying his comm, "Command, we've got Striders in Sector Four! Requesting immediate backup!"
Several seconds passed before Ghira answered, "Any and all soldiers not engaged with hostiles, Sector Four is in dire need of help. Repeat, all available firepower is needed at Sector Four."
"ADVENT has its hands full with the aquatics, Chieftan." A second voice answered, "I am sorry."
"Then XCOM will deal with the Striders."
The mere sound of Bradford's voice on the comms almost caused Blake to collapse with relief.
"Sector Four," Central continued, "We'll need a flare of some kind to locate your position. Light the candle, and we can drop the hammer."
Blake was more than happy to oblige.
"Strike Teams, we are one minute out from the drop zone. Actuals, Readiness Check."
"Strike One is good to go, Captain." Annette called out, "Kingfisher suits are prepped, and safeties are on."
"Strike Two is ready." Ruby added, "Suits are likewise ready for drop."
"Strike Three is all aboard the Bullhead." Fonseca confirmed, "We stand ready to support."
"Strike Four is set." Samuelson finished, "Half the squad is onboard the Mako, other half is ready to drop with Hammer."
"Great." Beagle answered, "Keep those Dust rounds loaded, people. We can't afford to use Gauss munitions unless your Actuals authorize it. Hammer, how are we looking?"
"Jetboots are hot, and all systems are nominal." Ryder called out. He checked the latest addition to his GUI and added, "Kids are in the backseat, and the landing shocks are functional. Gizmo and I are ready for some old fashioned party crashing."
Shen's latest additions to the Odin were intended to improve its role as a mobile command center. Part of that included the addition of fold-out jump seats to let a small detachment of operatives deploy with the supersized MEC. Not that Ryder's suit was the only one that had a new upgrade - He looked over to see Gizmo holding her arm out as a pale blue shield of hard light flickered on in front of her frame.
"Defensive tech is operational." Gizmo confirmed, "Hammer is ready to drop."
"In a moment, Hammer." Beagle assured, "Skysnipers?"
"Anchors are engaged, and Railguns are fully charged."
"Gidjit? How are the automated defenses?"
"25 PERCENT OPERATIONAL. WILL REQUIRE MANUAL INPUT."
"... Good, I guess?"
"SUFFICIENT."
"Then it's high time to get this party started. Remember: showmanship is key. I know each and every one of you is a badass, but you gotta make sure the people of Menagerie see it." From below, Ryder saw a lone flare streak upwards towards the Avenger. "Oh would you look at that, someone's gone and lit a flare. Hammer, you're clear to drop."
The operatives didn't need to be told twice. Ryder and Gizmo took off running before leaping off the side of the Avenger, followed by Ruby and Annette as they sailed into the night. The rest of Strikes One and Two were quick to follow their leaders, wings already deployed and jump jets burning brightly while the engines of the Bullhead and Mako spooled up as they prepared for liftoff. The air whipped past Ryder, and he took a moment so savor the sheer ridiculousness of airdropping a multi-ton superMEC into an active warzone. If Beags wanted inspiring flair, then he needn't look further.
"Menagerie Team, this is Tech Sergeant William Ryder. Stand by for titanfall."
"Seriously, Ryder?"
But Ryder wasn't paying attention anymore. The engines of the Bullhead and Mako roared overhead while the drop teams cut through the air with a vengeance. He saw Annette and Ruby, two armored lawn darts, zip past him as they raced towards the AO. Several other Kingfisher operatives chose to take the dive feet-first, and Ryder offered a salute to Jane Kelly as they locked eyes.
"Hammer team, be advised that Menagerie has multiple static defenses aimed at slowing down and killing Grimm." Blake warned, "Recommend that all personnel drop into the clearing between the two sentry towers."
"Understood, Sabretooth. Cavalry is on its way."
Rocketeers from Strike One and Two sailed past with their launchers primed for an opening salvo and were flanked by their shotgun-wielding escorts as they zeroed in on the battleground.
"Nichole-" Ryder started to say on the Odin's internal comm system.
"It's Terry today, sir!"
Ryder chuckled. Right. 'Terry' for 'Terra.' "Terry, could we have some dropzone music? Just for the Odin, mind. Wouldn't want to distract the others."
"Certainly! Do you have a preference?"
"Hmmm…" Ryder mused. Below them, the flashes of gunfire and the flames of the battlefield drew closer. "Why don't we go with our good friend, Sir DMX?"
"An inspired choice!" Terry quipped, "XCOM's anthem is perfectly suited for an operation like this!"
As the Odin's internal speakers started to shout, "X GON' GIVE IT TO YA," the automated airdrop protocol started to fire the jetboot rockets in preparation for landing. The landing party had finally drawn close enough to get a look at the number of creatures charging across the sands towards the town militia.
"Oohhhhhh that is a lot of Grimm."
"Sergeant," Annette deadpanned, "Do my ears deceive me, or am I hearing an XCOM operative complain about a target-rich environment?"
Silence.
"That's what I thought. All teams, begin your strafing runs."
The Kingfisher Rocketeers loosed their payload, and Ryder watched the explosive warheads crash into the swarming creatures of Grimm. With the gunners and riflemen around him firing down into the fray, Ryder prepped the Odin's railguns and scanned for a suitable concentration of Grimm to strike.
"Don't target the Strider abdomens!" Sabretooth warned over the comms, "They carry Scarabs that will break out and swarm the defenders if they get torn. The ground teams are prepping equipment to bring them down so that the sacs can be safely burned with minimal casualties."
"Because of-fucking-course." Beagle sighed.
"Captain, this is Dragunova of Strike Three. I believe we may have a faster way to neutralize the Striders. A backup plan will still be preferable, however."
"I am the backup plan." Gizmo intoned.
There. A pack of dogs climbing up and over a rock formation.
"Firing solution, Terry." Ryder requested. His hud highlighted his targets as they raced towards the Menagerie team.
"Done. You may fire when ready!"
The railguns kicked, and the rocks (and Grimm) disappeared in a plume of smoke and sand in short order. The MLRS snapped into position on the Odin's shoulder, and a salvo of rockets rained fury upon the hordes and lit up the battlefield once more.
X gon' give it to ya, he gon' give it to ya.
Ryder grinned as the Odin finally made landfall. The mech knelt down to allow the hitch-hiking operatives to drop down and join the fight before Ryder pulled himself up to his full height and stared down the charging foe.
"Oh, you're gonna get it, all right." He muttered, "Whether you like it or not."
Commander Wardlow stood, mouth agape, as he watched reinforcements fall quite literally from the heavens. Rockets and weapons fire rained down from the skies as the two Steel Warriors pounded the Grimm reinforcements. Some of the winged soldiers took up positions behind the barricades to rain fire and fury upon the monsters while others dropped directly into the thick of the hordes to lay waste from within. Several of the new fighters fell back to the Captain's soldiers and wasted no time in initiating triage for the wounded.
Orders were barked among the newcomers, snarky comments were made, but most importantly, they kept coming.
The engines of a Bullhead roared overhead as it came to a hovering position just behind XCOM's largest mech. Ropes dropped down from the near wing, and more troopers rappelled down and took up positions to push back against the Grimm.
"Velv, where did you get those aviators?"
Velvet looked back at Coco as the two stood in front of the starboard hatch of the Bullhead. Coco's first thought when she saw her partner donning the glasses was, 'why is she wearing shades during a night operation?' Then she remembered that judging Velvet for that would make Coco a hypocrite.
"Beagle gave them to me." Velvet answered as she slotted her camera onto her armor, "Said we'd look cute if we matched."
"He's not wrong!" Apollo called out from the other side of the ship as Firebrand took them down for a landing.
Coco snorted and readied her weapon as the hatch opened. Next to her, Velvet materialized a hard light copy of the weapon, and the two huntresses revved up and swept their cone of fire across the charging Grimm surging across the dunes while the other half of CFVY joined the rest of Strike Three on the ground. Black ooze and ivory bone fragments went flying as thousands of bullets, real and virtual, flew from the twin miniguns in the space of a minute, tearing the monsters to shreds as they crested the dunes.
Velvet looked over at her partner with one eyebrow raised behind her shades. "See? We're matching."
"Yeah." Coco admitted, grinning, "I guess we are."
Apollo rapped on the cockpit bulkhead. "Operatives are groundside, and the Vipers are itching to go Strider Fishing."
"Copy that." Firebrand confirmed, "I'll leave the port-side hatch open for our gunnery crew."
Velvet, now equipped with a hard light Plasma Dragon, gave Apollo a thumbs up.
"Gunnery crew sure appreciates your generosity, boss." Apollo relayed, "Let's roll."
"Strike One, on me."
Jane Kelly touched down a few paces behind Annette among the shifting dunes, shotgun at the ready. Ruby had already gone ahead to be a murderous little cuisinart-of-war and cut a swath of destruction through the Grimm while Annette regrouped with the segments of Strike One and Strike Two that volunteered for the Deep Strike. Prior to the drop, Annette and Ruby had coordinated to have half of their operatives reinforce the militia's defenses while the other half worked to take down some of the approaching Striders before they reached the defensive line.
Ruby would push forward with her squad to clear out the nearby Grimm while Strike One's job would be to sweep in their wake, mop up any stragglers, and provide support if Strike Two got into trouble.
"They are the sword, and we are the shield." Annette had explained.
Easy enough. And with no shortage of Grimm, it wasn't like Jane would be bored cleaning up after Ruby. Sure enough, a Cockatrice that had somehow escaped Captain Rose's tornado of death leapt at the women of XCOM, only to be knocked away by a pair of reflexive shotgun blasts. The flightless bird screeched as its new trajectory made it stick beak-first into the sandy ground like a lawn dart, helplessly flailing its legs as it desperately tried to free itself.
ABRN landed next to Jane, with Arslan hitching a ride on Reese's board while Nadir and Bolin unhooked themselves from the other two XCOM operatives assigned to Strike One. Just in time for a wave of Canis to charge towards them.
"ABRN, take down that bird!" Annette's voice rang in Jane's head.
The operatives didn't need instructions to know that their job was to lay waste to the dogs. Propulsion systems fired as the soldiers danced out of range of the Grimm while their rifles rattled death for the Canis.
Nadir raised his rifle and opened fire on the helpless Cockatrice, while the other two XCOM operatives followed suit. Reese flipped in mid-air and changed her hoverboard into twin pistols to start blasting away longside her teammate. As the Cockatrice's feathered carapace was torn apart by the volley of Dust, Arslan and Bolin flanked it from both sides and delivered two powerful Aura palm strikes, making the bird swell up like a balloon before imploding and sending feather fragments flying.
On the comms, Strike One's Reaper crew reported in. "Strike One, this is Ricardo. We've acquired our first Strider target, and we're moving in to engage."
Annette shifted her shotgun into a sword and glanced back at the assembled team. "Alright, let's move team. It's open season."
"Ryder, this is Eightball. Coming in at your two o'clock to deliver the other half of Strike Four. Got a special request from our Reaper passengers for a special drop-off, first. Seems like they know what Elena had in mind for those Striders."
"Copy that, Eightball. Happy hunting."
Colonel Lucerno flipped the comm switch to address his passengers in the back, "Alright, we're coming up on one of those walkers now. I'm going to lower the hatch in a second, hover for five, and whoever plans to jump is going to have to be quick about it."
The pilot shredded a handful of lesser Grimm with his nose gun as he approached the large, ugly walker. The thing didn't look like it had any means of striking an airborne target, but Eightball didn't want to take any chances. His Reaper, Alonso, assured Eightball that he and Vessira would be able to make the drop even if the Mako was thirty or forty feet above the target. And if that was the case, Eightball wasn't about to tempt fate by coming in any closer.
"Here we go. Dropping the hatch… now." He flipped the proper switch on his control panel, and he felt the hydraulics hiss as they actuated the ramp. "Clearing out in three… two… one."
"They're clear, sir." One of the operatives reported, "Literally vanished as soon as they had sight of the target."
Well, might as well check on them and help if he could. Eightball gunned the engine and drifted into a wingover to get eyes on the Strider. His eyes grew wide when he saw the Reapers, secured to the top of the monster via the armored sections adjoining the vulnerable sac, with their arm drills buried in between the armored plates of the Strider's shoulder. Whatever they were doing, the walker definitely didn't like it.
"Fuuuuuuuucking hell…" He muttered as he watched the first leg buckle, then the second. The saboteurs dematerialized moments before the lifeless husk crashed into the sand.
"Command, this is Eightball… Plan A for the Striders is looking pretty good. We might need to go with Plan Gizmo if too many show up, but… well, it's a good thing the Reapers are on our side."
"Unbelievable…" the Captain whispered. In less than a minute, XCOM had deployed several squads and set up a killzone far more effective than anything he could have hoped to muster. The automated weapons from the watchtowers still rattled and the searchlights still swept for new threats, but both his militia and the reinforcements from the White Fang had a chance to rest and lick their wounds while XCOM crushed the Grimm.
And even there, XCOM's support was invaluable. A man who identified himself as Fonseca had dropped out of the Bullhead and joined the other two medical soldiers in treating the wounded while coordinating communications with the rest of XCOM's fireteams.
And then there was this Captain Rose. The huntress who identified herself as 'Yang' had given one shout of, "THAT'S MY SISTER!'" before she ran off to join the caped soldier out in the field of Grimm. Lady Belladonna approached the militia Captain afterwards to explain who Ruby was, and to assure him that Sector Four was in good hands now that she had deployed to the field.
As the railguns and automatic weapons echoed in the background, the Captain asked Blake, "So this… this XCOM. Is this the sort of stuff they did during the Battle of Vale?"
Lady Belladonna nodded. "And more. As Captain Teasdale said during his interview with VNN, they prevented the Amity Colosseum from crashing into the city. They defended and evacuated the festival's fairgrounds with minimal civilian casualties. They established and maintained a safe zone in the city in the aftermath. This? This is what XCOM does."
Speechless, Wardlow could only nod as he surveyed the battlefield. XCOM's fighter craft raced overhead as they strafed the sands, cutting a line of destruction through the Grimm ranks. Brightly-colored Huntsmen and Huntresses surged forward to push the Grimm back and away from the sentry towers, and operatives repositioned to provide them with continual fire support. And in the far distance, the silhouetted form of a terrifying Strider let out a cry of death, as it suddenly keeled over and collapsed, crushing any Grimm unfortunate enough to be underneath its mass.
"Amazing…"
"Captain, we're reading some seismic activity. Coming from the desert."
The Captain sighed. Well, at least his sector was in a much better position to handle that particular bit of news.
"Lamnidae?" Lady Belladonna asked.
"Lamnidae." The Captain confirmed.
"Be advised, XCOM. We have sand sharks inbound. Requesting all operatives in the field to fall back."
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
The militia Captain agreed with Captain Teasdale's sentiment.
Hogarth let out a steady breath as he watched the doorway he knew led into the tunnel network. With the battles raging on both the water and desert fronts, most ready-and-able fighters had taken up arms and rushed to defend their homes.
Except, curiously, for the few that Hogarth had almost crashed into on his first attempt at breaching the tunnels.
They wore the mark of the White Fang, and yet Hogarth knew that Sienna Khan had ordered all of her fighters to defend Kuo Kuana. Were they a splinter cell that she didn't know about? With a group as radical as the Fang, it was hardly surprising that some members might believe that they knew better than their leaders. Whatever the reason, these soldiers clearly had no intention of joining the fight, and Hogarth suspected he knew why.
The question, then, was how to get past them? He could try moving up to the wall, blending in, and knocking to draw them out. Except they would be looking for whoever made the noise, and his camouflage didn't work too well at close range. He could also try going in guns blazing, but that would likely result in Mishka's death, and his own survival wouldn't be certain, either. He could try searching for another entrance, but not only was there the possibility of that entrance (if it even existed) being equally well-guarded, he didn't exactly have the luxury of time.
Just as Hogarth was preparing to go with Plan A, he heard the familiar call. It wasn't one that was unique to Earth, but it was also not one indigenous to Menagerie. It was also a call he'd taught a certain covert operative because she was a fan of dark humor.
It was a raven's call.
Evidently, the sound had also attracted the attention of at least one guard inside the entrance, as a pair of large men stepped out to examine the noise. They passed by Hogarth's hiding spot, and he took the opportunity to slip closer to the entrance. As he watched the two guards approach the sound of the noise, he saw something (a rope?) fly out of nowhere to yank one into a small alley with a yelp. As the other turned to look for the source of the commotion, a shadow solidified behind him and delivered a solid haymaker to the side of his skull.
While the masked figure dragged the unconscious faunus into the alley, Blake decloaked a few feet to Hogarth's left.
"Let's make this quick." She muttered, "Yang's itching to get back to the fight."
"You didn't have to come." Hogarth commented.
Blake shook her head as the two of them watched Yang move towards them along with the masked figure and… was that a lamia? "We made a promise. And we don't intend to break it."
Yang gave Hogarth a thumbs up once she reached his cover. "You can take point with Rossal and Nieve. I'm mostly here to help when things get loud, and Blake is helping me be sneaky."
Hogarth looked over at the two figures staring back at him from the entranceway. His eyes weren't deceiving him. That was definitely a lamia.
"... Yeah, it's a long story, apparently." Yang said, following Hogarth's stare, "But these Reapers are really good at the whole stealth thing."
Good enough for him. Hogarth pulled out his shortblade, offered a quick nod to his new companions waiting for him at the entrance, and the three of them set off down the stairs.
The tunnel was damp, and the lighting was low, which certainly helped Hogarth blend in with the shadows. The Reapers, however, were on a whole different level. They may as well have been the shadows. He knew they were there, and yet the only way he could actually see them was to stare directly at their forms. Otherwise, his eyes just simply didn't pick up on their existence.
His shadowy squadmates stopped moving, and Hogarth heard the sound of footsteps a few moments later. A pair of guards stepped out of an adjoining tunnel, and the human Reaper vanished into. Hogarth only realized where the woman had gone when one of the guards gasped as the Reaper materialized behind him to throw a chokehold. The lamia coiled around the guard's companion and clamped an arm around his mouth to keep him from crying out, and both guards were disabled less than a minute later. Now that he had a chance to get a look at one of the guards in the low light, Hogarth could see that he wore the emblem of the White Fang on his shoulder, but his attire looked nothing like the standard uniform for the organization.
Curious.
The trio continued down the tunnel network, with Hogarth taking the lead as his bullet tracker kept him on the right path (for the most part, anyway).
"We're getting close." He muttered, as the vibrations from his tracking device grew more frequent. The number of passing guards had sharply dropped to zero, which concerned Hogarth. Then again, perhaps this part of the network was off the usual beaten path. The trio slipped around one last corner to see a pair of guards flanking a metal door.
Ah.
Hogarth held up a hand to stop Blake and Yang from rounding the corner into view of the guards, and he fell back with the Reapers to formulate a plan.
Yang mimed a small explosion with her hands, asking, Is it time to go loud?
Hogarth shook his head, then mimed back, Soon. Two guards and a door.
Yang grinned.
She'd always told Hogarth how much she wanted to earn her wings as a Door Kicker.
A/N: I've only got one thing I'd like to mention in my closing A/N. It's something that Rambo mentioned in his chapter for Tales from the Avenger, but he and a couple of other members on the Discord server convinced me to let them launch a spinoff RP/RPG server that follows RWBY Within and (perhaps one day) Remnant Unknown. I've got my hands full with writing this story, so I don't run the game myself, but I've been keeping an eye on it and Rambo and Gryffen are doing an excellent job crafting an engaging story with their players. More than once, I've read something they wrote and asked myself, "Damn, why didn't I think of that?"
They asked me to bring this up primarily because they're getting close to the point in their campaign/story where RWBY comes tumbling out of the Hyperwave Relay. Rather than make those characters DM-controlled NPC's, they would rather have players in the game take up the mantle to breathe life into our favorite huntresses (well, Pyrrha's my favorite, but I digress). If you have any interest at all in trying out for one of the roles, or even just playing as an operative in the campaign, I highly suggest you head over to the main Discord Server, say hello, and ask us about it.
