A/N: Getting closer to the culmination of the Atlas arc. I need one more chapter to lay out the groundwork. Gotta see how Ruby's doing, find out what XCOM learned from the Schnee gala, and other little things like that.
And then?
Then it's off to the races.
Vahlen looked out the window of the car she was in as she travelled with Bradford, Tygan, and Beagle up the solitary road to the Schnee Manor. Even though the road was fairly empty, and even though the last establishments they'd passed by on the way here was several kilometers back, the last word Vahlen would use to describe the road was 'rural.' The road, the trees, and everything else that Vahlen could see looked carefully manicured. Even the snow looked perfect and untouched as it draped over the tree branches and covered the arrangement of stones and small cliffs they drove past.
Ironwood had loaned them the vehicle for the evening, and Beagle was all-too-happy to volunteer for driving duty. While Bradford was quick to tease his Captain about his driving skills, Vahlen silently acknowledged that Beagle was very confident in his handling of the car.
She was less confident, however, about how the night would turn out.
"Are you sure this is a good idea, Bradford?"
"It's a terrible idea, Vahlen. But turning down the invitation would have been even worse."
"Don't worry, Doc! I'll be here to keep you guys safe."
"Captain Beagle, you're forgetting that Bradford hasn't informed our host that you'll be coming."
"Actually, it's Valet Beags for tonight. Which is how Brad's gonna get me in."
"I must say, it will certainly be interesting to see Bradford's charisma in action."
"See? Tygan's got the right idea."
Bradford put up a hand to silence his chatty Captain. "We're almost there. Time to put your game face on."
"And which face is that?" Vahlen asked. The icy environment seemed to be sapping her optimism along with any warmth in the air, and the Doctor was not looking forward to stepping outside of the heated vehicle.. Her voice had none of the usual confidence that Bradford had come to expect from Vahlen when she was overseeing scientific research in the labs.
"The one where you pretend this isn't your first time at a high-society function," Beagle answered.
Vahlen glared at the Captain. "For your information, it isn't my first time. I've been to La Maison Chic."
Tygan raised an eyebrow as their car rolled to a stop. "La Maison Chic? Really? I'm… impressed."
Beagle rolled the car to a stop and stepped out of the car. Vahlen could see his breath making little clouds as he came around and opened the back seat door so that his guests could exit the vehicle. Bradford got out first and turned around to offer his hand to Vahlen. His Chief Scientist, dressed in a rather flattering emerald gown thanks to one Coco Adel, took his assistance and carried on her conversation with Tygan while Bradford helped her to her feet.
"Yes. Annette got us in. Her aptitude for social interactions was quite remarkable." She glanced over at Beagle and added, "It's a shame that she was unavailable to be our security for the night."
Beagle clutched his heart as he handed off the keys to the attending valet, though the grin on his face told Vahlen that Bradford's assistant for the evening was far from offended. "Excellent sass, my dear Doctor! Channel more of that, and I'm sure you'll do just fine."
"Shouldn't be hard with you around," Vahlen muttered.
The party of four approached the front gates of the Schnee manor, and Vahlen was pleasantly surprised to find herself not painfully frozen on the walk from the car to the mansion. A brief look around revealed the source: small fire Dust lamps lined the pathway, emanating enough heat to keep the guests comfortable without detracting too much from the wintery ambiance.
Vahlen quickly forgot about her outing at La Maison Chic once her party finally reached the gateway leading to the event. Everything about the entry into the gala screamed "we have money, and we have no problem with spending it." Strings of lights adorned and perfectly complemented just about every structure in the outdoor garden. Flowers and vines, immaculately landscaped, accented the walkway leading into the grand hall. Impeccably dressed servants stepped this way and that, some carrying hors d'oeuvres for the guests while others were busy whisking away the used silverware and glassware of guests who were already enjoying the refreshments.
And speaking of the guests, Vahlen made a mental note to profusely thank Coco for handling the group's attire for the night. She knew that Bradford had originally thought that asking the fashionista to go all-out in her efforts to dress up the trio was overboard, but seeing everyone in attendance dressed to the nines? XCOM would have been the talk of the night, but for the wrong reason. Captain Beagle was dressed reasonably well, too, but his style was muted in comparison to Bradford, Vahlen, and Tygan to show that he was of 'lesser' importance than the three main guests.
They strolled up to the gate, with Vahlen lacing her arm through Tygan's while Beagle stood a moderate distance behind the group. The attendant at the gate looked up to receive the newcomers, and Bradford offered a curt nod before identifying his party.
"Central Officer Bradford and Chief Scientists Vahlen and Tygan of XCOM," he informed the man. "Along with my valet, Mr. Teasdale."
The attendant looked at the list, then raised an eyebrow. "Nothing on here about Mr. Teasdale," he said, looking up and squinting at Bradford. "If they're not on the list, they're not allowed inside."
Oh dear. Well, perhaps it was time for Bradford to roll out that charisma that Tygan was talking about.
"Captain Teasdale is one of my most trusted associates, and will be our security detail for the night," Bradford informed the attendant. "I am sure that our gracious host is fully aware of the risk XCOM is taking by attending his gala with three of the most important people from our organization, and while I don't doubt for a second that he has spared no expense in keeping this magnificent event secured, he would understand that we will require a more personal degree of protection.
"Captain Teasdale is not here to enjoy the party. Nor is he here to sample the meats, wines, and other luxuries offered by Jacques Schnee. He is here to ensure that the three of us are safe. Nothing more, nothing less."
"I… see…" the attendant answered, clearly looking conflicted. "Nevertheless, my instructions were clear. If they aren't on the list, they do not get to come inside."
Not good. Bradford's statement was certainly an impressive display of his charisma, and Vahlen wasn't sure what else Central could say to convince the attendant. His hesitation to speak seemed to indicate that she was right. As he scrambled to think of a response that could get Beagle inside the gate, a polite cough came from behind the attendant.
A middle-aged servant, bald and sporting an impressive moustache, smiled politely at the attendant and asked, "Is everything alright? I just happened to notice that there appears to be a holdup with this party, and I thought I'd inquire to see if I could be of service."
"Hello, Klein," the list keeper greeted. "Yes, this Central Officer Bradford has arrived with his invited guests, but he also brought along a Mr. Teasdale who isn't on the list. Says that the man is to be his personal security for the night, but this was evidently not communicated with our staff."
Klein peeked around Bradford and glanced at Beagle, nodding with a, "Hmmm…" as he returned his attention to the attendant.
"Yes, I can see how that might be an issue," Klein mused. "However, XCOM and ADVENT are… unique cases, I think. After all, Lady Fall is in attendance tonight, and I believe that she has a security detail as well."
"Yes, but they were expected and on the list," the attendant argued.
Klein shrugged. "Perhaps there was a mixup. This Mr. Teasdale fellow appears to be a professional gentleman. I believe we saw him in that broadcast with VNN's Lisa Lavender a while back."
"Yes, sir. That would be me."
"I don't see a reason to deny them entry because of a hiccup with their security. Master Schnee is expecting XCOM to make an appearance as one of his special guests. It would be a shame to disappoint him over a trivial matter such as this."
The attendant's eyes widened briefly. He nodded at Klein, made a few markings on his list, and waved the party through the gates. "My apologies, Central Officer. Please, enjoy the gala."
"Thank you," Bradford said to the attendant. He then turned his attention to Klein, whose eyes twinkled as he stared back at the Central Officer.
"You have a pleasant evening, Mr. Bradford," the man said before taking his leave to take care of his other duties.
"Who was that?" Vahlen asked, her eyes watching the servant's retreating back.
Bradford looked up at the many balconies overlooking the main courtyard. Vahlen followed his gaze and made eye contact with Weiss Schnee as she leaned against the railing of one such balcony, and smiled when her friend gave an almost imperceptible nod.
"A guardian angel," Central answered. "Come on. We've got a party to enjoy."
Ilia watched with curiosity while the rest of the small group filed into the room for the meeting. It had been a few days since her performance in the slums had caught the notice of the locals, and so she once again found herself down here with Jane Kelly and Hogarth (though the latter was nowhere to be found, as usual) on the invitation of the woman who the Lieutenant had originally traveled to the slums to meet. With them were various locals –men, women, human, faunus– who seemed to carry themselves with the dignity and self-respect that Ilia would expect from community leaders and heads of families.
The room was a basement of sorts in one of the older tenant buildings in the slums. At Lieutenant Kelly's instructions, the pair of women had arrived at the building several hours ago and had passed away the time reviewing some intel and rough maps in one of the rooms that were up from the ground level. As Kelly explained it, the other attendees for the main meeting were also slowly filing in, but staggering the times at which they entered the building so that nobody watching from the street would see ten, twelve people all going into the complex at the same time. Once it was about time for the meeting to start, the two operatives left their room and headed down to the basement to meet with Blanche's group.
The room was old, dusty, and not really useful for much more than storing boxes to keep them out of the way. The musty smell in the air was slightly uncomfortable, and the room's modest lighting came from several hanging bulbs. Sediment would shake loose and trickle down the wood-braced walls anytime a particularly heavy vehicle rolled by on the street. And given that the main export of the Downside was Dust crystals being rolled out in armored vehicles, the sound of dirt shaking loose quickly became a background noise for Ilia.
A small array of makeshift seats had been arranged in the room, formed from crates and boxes that were stored down here. There were a handful of actual chairs, but one glance at them was enough for Ilia to take her chances with the crate benches instead.
Ilia saw Blanche sitting serenely in the back of the dusty room, and the woman smiled when she saw Ilia glance at her.
"Ilia Amitola, was it?"
Ilia nodded.
"It's good to see you again," Blanche said. "I hope you realize that your actions have inspired many of our brethren here in the Downside. If you are willing to continue giving them strength and courage, we would be honored to have your help."
Ilia wasn't sure what to make of such a glowing compliment. She felt her cheeks grow a little rosy, and she tried to muster up some professional-sounding words to give as a response.
"I've fought all my life for the disadvantaged. I don't plan on stopping now," she answered.
In truth, Ilia was surprised by the woman's statement. She saw the reactions of the people who had witnessed the confrontation with ADVENT, but it sounded like word of the incident had spread. Was it really so rare for people to stand up against perversions of injustice? The people of Atlas were proud. She learned that much within the first week of her training at the academy.
… Perhaps she hadn't spent as much time down in the slums as she originally thought.
The room grew quiet as the shuffling of feet and the creaking of crates came to an end. Nine locals sat in the room and settled their weary eyes on Blanche as they waited for her to speak. The young woman got to her feet and offered a brief bow to her guests.
"Welcome, my friends," she began. "When Osiris first stepped foot in our home and gave us the lofty promise of aid from XCOM, we were wary. When Odin joined him, bringing manpower and supplies, we became hopeful. When Odei took up their mantle and worked to finish what they started, we had a goal. ADVENT's arrival has been a travesty, but we are determined to build a better, safer future for ourselves and our children."
She glanced at Ilia again and smiled. "And now? Now that XCOM has well and truly arrived, now that Osiris's promise is growing into action, we have a purpose. Even one unjust arrest and abduction by ADVENT was one too many, but we were not equipped to handle the consequences of pushing back. Our greatest advantage lies in the fact that those who look down on us underestimate our strength and our drive to succeed. We have worked hard to retain our dignity, and we will not forget our brothers and sisters who made the ultimate sacrifice to ensure that those who would do us wrong still believe that the status quo remains undisturbed."
Blanche glanced at Jane and added, "XCOM made the same sacrifice, as Weiss Schnee could tell you."
The people in the room looked down in an impromptu moment of silence. Ilia had been briefed on Weiss's situation, and she knew what the girl had to do, but it still shocked her to see slum dwellers talking about a Schnee with kindness. And yet, from where she sat, Ilia could see several boxes (and even some of the weapons carried by the occupants) with a hand-scratched symbol that was uncannily reminiscent of the Schnee family's snowflake.
… What?
When Ilia was in school at Atlas, the emblem was a symbol of oppression, a reminder of the slave drivers who kept a boot firmly in place on the necks of the slummers. The snowflake was looked upon with scorn and disgust, and why wouldn't it? But now? Somehow, XCOM had made enough of a difference in the lives of these people that the snowflake had become a symbol of hope. How was that possible?
"It brings me comfort to know that Odin and Osiris watch over Weiss even now," Blanche continued. "For all of her hard work and devotion to our cause, she deserves nothing less.
"And now? The time has come, as we all had faith it would, to end our necessary acceptance of ADVENT's injustices. XCOM has arrived, and they are working with Odei to assist the people of Atlas. I won't lie to you and say that they came here to help us and only us, but as we have seen time and again: XCOM fights for the people."
She locked eyes with Ilia and smiled. "It is time that we fight for XCOM."
The room remained silent at Blanche's declaration. No cries of concern, no outpouring of support. There was no tension, no feeling of the room's occupants 'picking sides' and bracing for an argument or debate. Just acceptance that this was the woman's will, and it was to be respected.
Just who was Blanche, anyway?
A lone hand went up. A middle-aged man with small horns just barely pushing past his hair.
"What would you have us do, my lady?" the man asked.
Blanche and the Lieutenant shared another look, which evidently meant that Kelly should answer the question.
"Prepare," Jane answered. "XCOM is conducting an intel mission as we speak, and whatever we gain... we plan to move on it. From what planning we've conducted with Odei, it seems highly likely that, regardless of what XCOM's next move is against ADVENT, it will involve the Downside."
"As a distraction," a woman observed from the other side of the room.
"Yes," Jane said, without missing a beat. These people were intelligent, and the Lieutenant knew better than to insult them by beating around the bush. "A riot here in the Downside will keep ADVENT preoccupied and unable to respond to whatever else Central will be planning. But that does not mean we view the people here as expendable. As Blanche reminded you, XCOM leads by example. We are prepared to commit resources to ensure that an operation in the Downside succeeds, and that it improves your lives in the process."
The room fell silent again. Its occupants looked at each other, their expressions shifting as they held silent conversations with their companions.
Jane wasn't done, though. "XCOM's Central Officer has given me the distinct privilege of working with Odei, Blanche, and the people of the Downside. We will need to be efficient as we prepare, but also quiet to avoid drawing attention from ADVENT. We will be assisted by my associates, Ilia…"
"Hi," Ilia said with a smile and a wave.
"... and Hogarth."
Ilia was fairly certain that she literally turned pale when she heard the raspy voice of her mentor say from the other side of the room, "Hello."
The other occupants in the room must have felt the same, as nine heads snapped around to see a man leaning against the wall next to the door.
Jane smirked. "He is quite good at being unnoticed, and will be working closely with us to provide you a steady feed of intel on ADVENT's movements in the Downside. Odei also has several volunteers from her network that are willing to put their usual activities on hold in order to provide further support in our operation here."
"It sounds like you're preparing for war," one man observed.
"They've already established that we're going to be a distraction," the woman next to him commented. "How else are we going to occupy ADVENT's attention?"
"It's going to be more than a distraction," Ilia asserted, standing up. "From the perspective of XCOM's other operation, yes that's what it will amount to. But for us down here? It's about sending a message to ADVENT. A message that their unchecked behavior, their belief that they can walk all over us, will no longer be tolerated."
A murmur of assent rippled through the listeners. Jane took over once everyone was quiet again.
"We will need to arm the people of the Downside," she said. "Establish militia teams. Develop chokepoints and firing lanes. Escape routes. Supply lines. If we want to have a solid shot at beating ADVENT, we need to be prepared."
"And from what you've told me, preparing is your specialty," Blanche concluded with a smile.
"Hogarth has already slipped off to make sure we won't be interrupted by ADVENT," Jane said, gesturing to the wall where Hogarth had been standing a minute ago.
How did he do that?
Jane pulled out a map of the slums and looked around the room. "That means we have plenty of time to start planning out the finer details of this operation. Let's start by establishing zones…"
"Central Officer Bradford! I am delighted that you managed to join us."
The people waiting in the small line to greet Jacques Schnee looked back and stared at Bradford's party before stepping aside to allow him to move to the front and speak with the master of the house. They all knew who he was, and if Jacques wanted to speak with him first, they all knew better than to object. Bradford put on his best smile as he approached with Vahlen, Tygan, and Beagle, and nodded respectfully at Jacques Schnee. His host didn't offer a hand for a shake, and so the Central Officer chose not to, either.
And it was no accident that Jacques chose to situate himself at the foot of the grand staircase in the main hall. Not only was it meant to remind his greeted guests of his superiority in both wealth and stature, but the choice served to demonstrate both traits. When Bradford himself had first stepped into the room, his eyes were drawn to the people waiting in a line, then to Jacques, then the staircase, and then…
Then the rest of the room.
Resplendent didn't even begin to describe it. While the entry garden set the tone of the manor's opulence, it was merely a taste of what greeted the guests once they stepped foot in the main hall. Massive silver chandeliers provided just the right amount of lighting to fit the gala's ambiance while floor-to-ceiling grand windows lined the walls, framed by royal red tapestry ribbons (colored, no doubt, in honor of Cinder Fall). The marble flooring practically sparkled, and dancers practically glided about as they moved with their partners in the middle of the room. Servants stood at intervals with trays of food and drink, ready to offer their services to anyone in need.
"As am I, Mr. Schnee," Bradford answered. "You invited me to a fundraiser with the aim of bringing the people of Remnant closer together and raising money for a brighter future. It is my honor to be here."
The man had two personal guards flanking him on his four and seven o'clock, and Bradford noticed a curious lack of Jacques's wife on his arm.
"I was hoping to offer my regards to Lady Schnee," he said, knowing full well that bringing up his host's wife was likely a bad idea. But in front of all these people? It would be interesting to see how Jacques reacted. "I hope she is not unwell...?"
For a split-second, Bradford saw Jacques's eye twitch. But the man regained his composure as quickly as he lost it and answered, "My wife is being a diligent hostess, I regret to inform you. I believe she is currently overseeing a shipment of supplies for our guests." He shrugged. "I personally would leave that to the staff, but my wife prefers a more hands-on approach."
Bradford smiled. "If you want something done right... but where are my manners? Allow me to introduce my colleagues: Doctors Vahlen and Tygan, and our security for the evening, Captain Beagle."
Tygan and Beagle bowed while Vahlen offered a polite curtsy (something she probably learned from Weiss, Bradford guessed).
"While I don't believe I extended the invitation for tonight's gala to the good Captain," Jacques said pointedly, "I can understand the need for safety. Welcome, Doctors and Captain, to my humble residence."
"We are delighted to be here," Tygan answered. "The architectural design of the manor is positively stunning. The intricate detailing of the balustrades overlooking the front garden caught my eye the moment our party stepped past the gate, as it's reminiscent of the Jacobean Architecture that you rarely see in modern Remnant designs. The lattice-work that complements the garden proper is cleverly designed to enhance the natural beauty rather than steal the spotlight. Not an easy thing to do. And most impressive, in my opinion, are the modified palladian windows you have in this marvelous grand ballroom."
Jacques raised an eyebrow. "I can't say I anticipated one of my guests from XCOM to be so knowledgeable about architecture."
"The field is rather... intriguing."
Their host looked over Bradford's shoulder. Central's stomach turned as Jacques's eyes lit up and his face turned into a thin smile.
"Ah," the man said, "just the person I wanted you to meet. Lady Fall! A moment of your time, if you please…?"
… This couldn't be good.
Bradford looked over his shoulder and say that Cinder was, unfortunately, sauntering over to where he was standing with the host of the gala. To nobody's surprise, she was wearing a royal red gown that was almost certainly designed to be appropriate for tonight's event while still accentuating the femme fatale personality Cinder had been carefully cultivating in the media. As the doorman had mentioned when they first arrived, she was flanked by three burly-looking guards. They were dressed for the gala, but wearing attire that matched ADVENT's colors.
With Jacques still in earshot, nobody in Bradford's party dared to make a snarky comment as Cinder's entourage approached. So they all stood and watched with neutral expressions as the Fall Maiden came to a stop in front of Bradford and smiled.
"Central Officer Bradford. The man, the myth, the terro-"
"Legend," Beagle cut in. "The word you were looking for was Legend."
Cinder looked curiously at the Captain, as if she were trying to figure out who he was. "I don't believe I was talking to you, Mr…?"
"Teasdale," Bradford answered, "Our security detail for the night. Similarly, I don't believe you've had the honor of meeting two of my best researchers, Ms. Vahlen and Mr. Tygan."
But Cinder was still focused on Beagle. "Only one man for your security, Mr. Bradford? My my, aren't you a bold one?"
"We prefer to be efficient rather than ostentatious," Bradford answered with a pointed look.
"Interesting," Cinder mused. Bradford wasn't sure he recognized that expression spreading across her face, but he had a gut feeling that it couldn't mean anything good. "Well, rather than wasting the time of our gracious host, why don't we continue this conversation elsewhere?" Her eyes bore straight into Bradford's as she finished with, "Perhaps the dance floor?"
"An excellent suggestion, Lady Fall!" Jacques interjected. It was clear that he was enjoying the fact that not only were the two most well-known names in Remnant's politics meeting for the first time at his gala, but that there would be video of the two of them dancing at the event as well. Bradford was struggling to find a reason he could use to turn down Cinder's offer, given the main point of tonight's event. The whole point of this gala was global unity and support. If XCOM's leader turned down an invite to dance with ADVENT's figurehead at this event, Cinder would absolutely jump at the opportunity to keep the story in the news cycle for at least a week, and Bradford would get hammered on the symbolism of turning down ADVENT's olive branch. The offer, like so many other things that had happened in the last month, was a test.
And Bradford wasn't about to fail it.
"It would be pretty poor manners for me to refuse, now wouldn't it?" Bradford asked with a smile.
With a bow and a flourish, he held his hand out to Cinder. The Fall Maiden took the offering and the two of them made their way towards the center of the room. It felt like the eyes of every single guest at the gala were staring at the pair as they took up their position at the middle of the floor.
Bradford noticed Jacques speaking curtly with the string quintet providing live music for the event. The musicians faded out their previous song before starting up a slow waltz. Bradford momentarily wondered if Earth's version of a waltz matched up with Remnant's version, but the concern was quickly resolved when Cinder positioned herself and her hands exactly where Bradford expected for a Terran dance.
Good. That would make this a lot less complicated than it could have been.
Apparently a large number of other guests were determined to not miss out on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to share the dance floor with Lady Fall and Central Officer Bradford, as at least twelve other couples readied themselves for the song. A few seconds later, everyone began to move.
"I could incinerate you where you stand right now," Cinder muttered loud enough for only Bradford to hear, the expression on her face a picture-perfect smile that was meant for everyone who was watching.
"Of course," Bradford agreed, his face one of gentlemanly professionalism as he kept his eyes locked on Cinder's, "but that wouldn't be in the spirit of this gala, now would it? What would all of the socialites think?"
"Nothing good, most assuredly," Cinder admitted, "but that would be a problem that I can deal with in due time."
Bradford shrugged. "Then go ahead. Burn me down in front of all these people and see how that works out for you. Do you think XCOM will give up just because I die?"
The uncomfortably warm feeling flowing into his back from Cinder's palm made Bradford wonder if his gambit had backfired, but he kept his smile up regardless. "If this is your plan to take the wind out of our sails, then you've learned nothing about XCOM."
The heat faded, and the dance continued. Bradford twirled Cinder around across the center of the floor while the other guests made sure to give them ample space. In a different world, Bradford might have enjoyed this. But knowing that this woman was the source of so much suffering on Remnant, and knowing that her evil had left Pyrrha Nikos in a horrific state where even now she was still recovering? It took the fun out of the moment.
"I don't need to learn anything about XCOM," Cinder said as they once again came face-to-face after a particularly lively part of the waltz. "Just as one wouldn't need to learn anything about a misshapen bug before crushing it."
"And here I thought we were agreeing to dance for the sake of peace," Bradford sighed with faux disappointment.
"And I thought crippling naiveté wasn't one of your character flaws," Cinder shot back.
The rising tempo of the song interrupted their conversation once more, and the two leaders went back to putting on a show for the public. The gala attendees politely clapped as Bradford led Cinder around the room, the latter's dress flowing like a river under the assured, confident guidance of the former. For a good minute, Bradford let himself get into the flow of the music, but even so... he still wasn't quite able to forget who his dance partner was.
His dance partner, however, seemed intent on trying to 'win' whatever verbal fight she assumed they were having. "It was foolish of you to come tonight. Especially with your top scientists."
"Oh?" Bradford asked, twirling Cinder with a mere motion of his hand.
"You have precious few resources, a band of hooligans on a stolen ship, and you choose to waste your time at a fundraiser event?" Cinder laughed as she twisted herself into Bradford's arms. "And here I thought you might prove to be a challenge."
"And what about you?" Bradford asked. "You say it was ill-advised for XCOM to make an appearance, and yet here you are."
Cinder rolled her eyes. "My resources are vast. My followers are legion. I am the symbol of peace for Remnant. I am supposed to be here."
"And I am a false prophet, clinging desperately to my fifteen minutes of fame by riding on your coattails," Bradford mused. "What on Remnant was I thinking?"
Bradford had to admit, he was relieved to hear that Cinder was so cocky about her opinion of XCOM that she assumed he was simply wasting his time by being here tonight. The fewer dangers his insertion team faced, the better.
"Your mockery means nothing to me, Bradford. You are living on borrowed time."
The song came to an end, and the two of them froze as the room erupted in applause at their performance.
"ADVENT will win this," Cinder whispered, "and XCOM will be turned to ashes."
Bradford smirked, "Don't you mean turned to cinders?"
"Laugh while you still can, Central," Cinder said as the two of them returned to their waiting entourages. "You'll soon find yourself going the way of Miss Nikos."
Bradford chose to let Cinder leave with the final word (because he knew she would find a way to make sure she had the final word even if Bradford tried to one-up her), and instead bid farewell to the Fall Maiden and the master of the house.
"Learn anything from that?" Beagle asked.
The Central Officer shook his head. "Only that Cinder is a raging narcissist."
"Tell me something I don't already know," Vahlen snorted.
"The facade on the far wall doesn't quite match the design of the other three, which likely means that it's hiding surveillance equipment?" Tygan offered.
The other three stared at him.
"Oh, and I am one-hundred percent confident that Jacques played no role in the design of his mansion," Tygan added. "Unless 'Jacobean Architecture' means something on Remnant like it does on Earth."
Life, it seemed, was full of surprises this evening.
"Let's spend some time chatting with the other partygoers," Bradford said. "Maybe I earned XCOM enough good will just now for them to talk more freely than they would have otherwise."
Beagle nodded in agreement. "Solid plan. Lead the way, boss."
Guards up ahead. Stick to the shadows.
Blake shook her head in amusement as Fox's voice echoed in her head. She'd gotten used to having telepathic teammates thanks to the likes of Ruby, Annette, and the rest of XCOM's psi corps, but she didn't expect Fox Alistair to have the same trick up his sleeve. The revelation came shortly after the desert battle, where Fox admitted to Bradford that his semblance was not, in fact, blind sight, but telepathic communication. Up until recently, his usage was exclusively restricted to CFVY. In fact, CFVY had gone through two years at Beacon without telling anyone about Fox's ability.. But after fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with XCOM in Kuo Kuana's desert, and seeing the stakes rapidly rising in this war against ADVENT, his teammates agreed that it was time to expand that circle of trust.
And now, the 'Dagger Team' recon group pulled back together for this break-in operation, with the new additions of a Reaper pair and Yatsuhashi (without his massive blade). Dagger Team's op was a perfect fit for Fox's semblance. Annette was charged with keeping telepathic tabs on the Reapers out in front, so as to avoid overtaxing Fox's semblance. Once they had something of interest to report, the Major would relay it Alistair, who would in turn blast the warning out to the rest of Dagger. The whole thing was performed in absolute silence, leaving any guards nearby completely unaware of the conversation going on between XCOM operatives.
And Yatsuhashi? Well, his semblance was another surprise for XCOM. Having the ability to make people forget things meant that the squad would have less to worry about when it came to neutralizing guard patrols that got in their way. Knock them out, move them out of sight, mind wipe them, and they'll assume they got drunk or something when they finally wake up.
With the main activity of the gala going on at the front of the manor, the Reaper duo had taken Dagger around back to break in through the gardens. Elena and Vessira were able to keep a close watch over Willow Schnee thanks to her penchant for drinking out in the open garden, and had apparently overheard a conversation between Willow and Weiss about creating a distraction with the wine shipments to get Dagger into the manor. Their scouting of the area had revealed a small service road leading up from a private landing pad, which was likely where the wine would be coming through.
So all they had to do was follow the alcohol.
Of course, a point of entry into the Schnee residence was absolutely covered with patrolling guards, with more of them today than Elena had seen when she and Vessira first assessed the point of entry a few days ago. The road led to a checkpoint before dipping down into a gated sub-level where the mansion likely kept its inventory of goods for parties, business, and whatever else Jacques was up to. The rest of the perimeter consisted of an elevated terrace, easily fifteen or twenty feet tall, complete with a chest-high stonework wall (ornately designed… it was on Schnee property, after all) so that entering the premises uninvited would prove to be an incredibly challenging task.
Blake noticed that the terraced topography started almost as soon as the perimeter of the property moved away from the front gate, and the only other time that it disappeared was at the back-end security checkpoint for the service road. So unless you were formally invited to a party, or you were making an expected delivery, the only real option for getting in was over a wall patrolled by guards.
So the catch now was figuring out a way to slip in unnoticed. Preferably before the freezing cold started to affect the team's movement. If Willow had a plan, hopefully she'd put it into motion soon.
A Bullhead rumbled overhead and flew down towards where Blake assumed the private landing pad was located. Moments later, she could hear a woman shouting commands from behind the security checkpoint leading into the manor.
"Alright! The alcohol is here! We are running dangerously low on the reserves we have available for serving to guests, and running out is absolutely not an option."
"O-of course, Lady Schnee."
Dagger team hunkered down in the foliage nearby while they waited and listened to the conversation unfold.
"Ah. Competence among the personnel back here. Good. You there, I need two full security teams down by the pad to start processing the paperwork for receiving in the shipment."
"... Ma'am? That's usually done once the shipment reaches the gate-"
"What part of running out not being an option are you struggling with?"
"I..."
"Two security teams. Now."
"Who will watch the checkpoint?"
"That's not my problem. My problem is making sure that the guests leave tonight with nothing but the best impressions of our hospitality. Tell me, do you think that will be possible if we run out of wine midway through the opening act of the gala?"
"N-no, ma'am."
"Find people to cover the checkpoint. Pull from the nearby perimeter if you have to. I doubt that you'll find many guards complaining about being pulled away from staring at the frozen mountainside for fifteen minutes while you process the shipment."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Ah. So that was the plan. Blake would have to someday personally give her thanks to Willow Schnee for her clever ruse. As Dagger continued to watch from the shadows, the security forces exploded in a mass of activity. Per Willow's instructions, a sizable force raced down the service road to begin processing the shipment.
"Time to check in with the Reaper team," Annette whispered to Blake. The Major grew silent, and Blake could only imagine what kind of conversation was going on in the minds of her squadmates.
It didn't take long before Fox's voice filled her head again as he relayed the daisy-chained information from Annette.
Several guards are moving along the wall to gather other soldiers and muster them at the gate. We should gather to the west at Outrider's position and be ready to move once there is a gap in security. Vessira is already scouting for ways into the mansion itself once we get over the wall. Elena wanted to get her out of the snow.
Time to move. In stark contrast to the noisy commotion of the gala security, Dagger team moved silently. They followed Fox and Annette, keeping an eye on the activity up on the wall while they gathered around Elena and waited for an opportunity to present itself. Next to Blake, Ren seemed to practically float above the thin layer of snow on the ground, his feet making a barely-audible crunch against the ice. Orryn and Arslan took up the rear, their steps making not much more noise than Ren's.
While they waited, Blake watched Annette as she silently started to 'warm up' her Aura and focus on pooling some of the energy into the soles of her feet. Everyone else in Dagger had a way to easily scale the wall. Elena had her shadow walk, and the huntsmen had their superior physiology and agility training that allowed them to jump to the top in a single bound. As the only XCOM operative, Annette was at a slight disadvantage. A grapple would be too loud, and Annette was too prideful to rely on Arslan's rope every time she needed to quickly relocate. Blake was well aware of how tirelessly Annette worked in her mission to play catch-up with the other huntsmen students, and she was equally aware of how successful the Major was in achieving her goal.
Now.
Elena dissolved into shadow, and the four huntsmen leapt over the wall one after another. Blake heard a light hup, and smiled as Annette touched down on the stonework behind her.
"You're supposed to put one hand down to complete the superhero landing," Blake noted.
Annette snorted, "Shut up, nerd."
Dagger team immediately moved to take cover among some of the hedges a few paces away from the perimeter wall. The gardening wasn't nearly as extravagant as what little Blake had seen of the front plaza, but there were still plenty of hedges and bushes to provide a place for the team to hunker down out of sight. The sun was starting to set, and the shadows on the terrace were growing long. So long as they had Elena to bend the shadows around them, Dagger would have no trouble getting inside the mansion itself.
There's a door across the small plaza that's being guarded by a pair of soldiers. Vessira is going to try to lure them inside so that the doorway is open and we'll be ready to slip in after them.
With the shouts of guards handling the wine shipment floating in the background, Dagger padded through the maze of hedges. A few guards wandered the premises, but it was fairly easy to stay out of sight thanks to both the hedges and Fox's Soul Sense ability. The former gave them reliable cover, and the latter ensured that the squad never lost track of any of the nearby patrols.
It didn't take long for the team to reach the edge of the hedges, and the guarded door was only twenty-five feet beyond.
In position.
Vessira wasted no time in slithering past the doorway, a vague shadow that made sure to tap the glass as she passed. The two guards whipped their heads around at the noise, saw the lights flicker ever-so-slightly inside the hallway, and nodded in agreement. Weapons at the ready, they opened the door and moved inside to figure out what had caused the disturbance.
No other guards are nearby, and those jokers are still moving down the hallway after Vessira. We're clear.
Without a word, the team crossed the open space of the side courtyard and slipped through the open door. As they peeled off in the opposite direction of the guards, Blake had a chance to take in her surroundings. In an instant, she got a slightly better understanding of Weiss's upbringing. The hallway was cavernous. Clean, polished, and shaded with the same royal colors as Weiss's outfit when she first arrived at beacon. The architecture was gorgeous, without a doubt, but also oppressive. Impressive, but somber portraits lined the walls and expensive sculptures and vases adorned artisan tables. It almost felt like the hallway was powerful, knew it, and knew that its occupants knew it. Was the whole mansion like this?
Blake shook the thought from her mind and kept her eyes alert for any silent alarms that the team might trigger, though she didn't doubt that the rest of Dagger Team was also doing the exact same thing.
"Alright team. Remember, we're expecting Jacques to have this place loaded with security measures. Shen gave us some toys, it's time to use them."
With practiced motions, the team pulled out an array of sensing equipment, ranging from infrared to electromagnetic.
"At least EXALT was good for something," Annette mused, strapping a small device to her wrist, "even if it was just giving us a reason to develop counter-security tech."
As the team began to move through the rooms of the mansion, Fox would issue an All Stop alert from time to time. The team would freeze to assess the security measure caught by one of the operatives. Usually it was a security camera hiding in a corner of the room, but Blake had already caught at least two low-to-the-ground laser tripwires in the doorways leading from one room to another.
Room by room, Dagger navigated Jacques's defenses. Security patrols was rather sparse in this part of the mansion. Since nobody was supposed to be here, and since the perimeter guards were meant to catch anyone slipping in, the vast majority of security forces were stationed closer to the party. Musical notes from the gala's string quintet drifted through the empty halls, giving Blake an idea of which direction the squad should avoid, if at all possible.
"Klein?" A terse voice asked, "What are you doing over here? All servants are needed to attend to the guests."
Down the hallway and to the right, Blake reported to Fox, though she suspected that the huntsman already suspected as much.
The man, presumably Klein, answered, "I am aware, Corporal. However, I was given a task by one of the guests that has required me to leave the gala for a few minutes."
Annette waved the team forward, and Dagger silently advanced towards the adjoining hallway where the confrontation was taking place.
"Which guest, and what task?" the Corporal asked.
"Quite frankly, that is none of your business."
"Klein..."
According to our intel, Klein is our contact for locating Jacques's private study. Elena and Vessira are moving to assist. Stay close, but out of sight. Belladonna and Altan, move up for support.
For stealth and rope, respectively. The two huntresses nodded at each other and moved to the front of the non-Reaper component of Dagger Team.
"While it may come as a surprise to you, Corporal, the privacy of our guests is important to me. I understand that you have the security of this house to worry about, but I can assure you that this is a routine errand I've been sent on."
"If it's so routine, Klein, then surely there isn't a problem with you telling me what it is."
"As I just said..."
They reached the corner, and Blake activated her armor's cloaking tech before peering around the corner. She winced at Klein's bad luck. So far, they'd only come across pairs of soldiers patrolling the hallways, but Klein managed to bump into a detail of five guards.
Elena and Vessira are in position. Belladonna, take the officer directly engaged with Klein, and neutralize on my mark. Altan, pull the soldier closest to you and neutralize him with Ren. Elena will silence the fifth soldier after dealing with her first target.
Blake dashed silently into position and communicated her readiness to Fox.
"Klein, don't make me ask again, and I won't have to report this to Master Schnee."
Mark.
The hallway came alive as two guards were pulled away from the group while two more received a hard strike to the base of their skulls. Blake saw the fifth guard freeze for half a second before she watched in horror as his hand moved to key his helmet's comm. A dagger whistled from down the hall and the hilt smashed into the guard's face, causing him to crumple to the floor a moment later. Two more bodies hit the ground with a quiet thud as Vessira and Arslan took care of their targets.
The fight was over as soon as it had begun. Through it all, Klein waited patiently as though the lightning assault was in no way abnormal. He dusted off his vest and looked at Blake with a smile.
"Miss Belladonna, I presume?"
Blake raised an eyebrow. "You know my name."
"I've had plenty of time to come to know a great many of Weiss Schnee's friends," the servant answered. "I think the only ones I am more familiar with might be Ruby Rose and a Miss Vahlen, especially since I've already had the pleasure of meeting the latter tonight. Welcome to the Schnee Manor. As I am sure you're already aware, you may call me Klein." He gave a slight bow and added, "At your service."
Annette's voice trickled into Blake's mind. Oooohhhh, I like this one!
The rest of Dagger Team came around the corner (save for the Reapers, who were almost certainly keeping an eye out for more patrols). Both Arslan and Ren were carrying the limp bodies of the unconscious guards.
"Alright, Klein," Ren said, watching as Yatsuhashi touched the forehead of each guard before scooping them up and carrying them over his shoulders, "let's start with you telling us where we should hide these unfortunate guards."
Klein smiled. "It would be my pleasure. If you'll follow me..."
The lights dimmed and a soft applause rose from the crowd as Weiss slowly stepped forward onto the stage. While she waited for the audience to get settled, the young huntress-operative cast her glance around the impressive auditorium.
High above in his private viewing box, Weiss saw her father. Sitting next to him, she noticed, was Cinder Fall. Evidently his 'guest of honor.' On the other side of the theater, Weiss saw her mother. She had to suppress a smile when she noticed Dr. Vahlen sitting next to Willow, the two women chatting amiably, while Bradford and Tygan sat next to them. From behind their seats Beagle flashed a thumbs-up at Weiss, and she bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement before returning her attention to the central crowd.
It was big, but she'd seen bigger. Given that this was a fundraiser event with a fairly expensive buy-in, that had the side-effect of trimming off some of the usual attendees who were just on the edge of having enough wealth to warrant an invite to Jacques's events. Not that her father cared. From what she heard, the auction alone had more than made up for the drop in attendance.
Once the crowd fell silent, the musicians accompanying her performance started to play. Weiss closed her eyes and let the opening notes notes from the solitary piano flow through her. As usual for these performances, Jacques preferred to lead off with one of Weiss's 'greatest hits.'
She breathed in, and gently drifted into the first line of the song.
'Mirror… tell me something… Tell me who's the loneliest… of all…'
The audience sat in rapt silence. Many of them had heard her perform this very song before, Weiss was sure of it. As much as she hated the fact that her skill as a concert singer was the result of her father's unyielding demands of a scared little four-year-old, Weiss had to admit that her ability to hold a crowd like this was enjoyable. Maybe not worth the suffering she had to go through to get here, but at least she could appreciate the end result.
The tempo picked up, and Weiss moved her body to match.
'Mirror mirror, who's behind you? Save me from the things I've seen!'
The orchestral group accompanying her performance played beautifully. Not that Weiss was surprised. She was pretty sure her father kept them on retainer for these events, and they were always very amiable when Weiss herself asked them to assist her in rehearsing for an event. Something that she definitely took advantage of for tonight.
'I can keep it from the world, why won't you let me hide from me?'
As the song began to wind down to a close, Weiss glanced up again at her father. She didn't know what he was thinking right now, but she suspected he had some degree of smug satisfaction about the political success of tonight's event. As much as she despised the man for his scheming, even Weiss had to acknowledge the ingenuity behind inviting both ADVENT and XCOM to the gala. Beyond the good publicity for the SDC, tonight's event would still be a net positive for the people of Remnant. Both the fundraiser money and the olive branch between ADVENT and XCOM would provide some relief and good will that Remnant desperately needed right now.
'Mirror mirror, tell me something… who's the loneliest of all? I'm the loneliest of all.'
The song came to a close, the audience offered a respectful and appreciative applause, and the musicians waited for the guests to settle down before starting up the next song. With all the lights on her, it was difficult for Weiss to make out the shadowy faces of the onlookers. She had a decent view of her parents' private boxes, but that was about it. Annette (if she was even here) was almost certainly off doing her break-and-entry mission with Klein, but a small part of Weiss secretly hoped that her friend was sitting somewhere in the audience.
Annette always enjoyed listening to Weiss sing. Whenever Jacques listened, Weiss could tell that all he heard was how much fame and success his daughter's voice could bring to the family. When the audience at these events listened, they heard the technical excellence in Weiss's voice. Even when Ruby listened, she struggled to get past the awestruck phase of, 'my partner is a really good singer!' But when Annette listened? She listened. After the first time she saw Annette close her eyes and get lost in the music, Weiss realized that she actually enjoyed singing for her friend.
The next song started, and the audience was silent again. When it came to a close, they applauded as before. Then the cycle repeated for the next song. And the next. Even if Annette wasn't here to enjoy the music, Weiss was able to steal glances up at her mother's private box to see Vahlen's reaction to the performance. Willow looked impassive (as usual), which contrasted starkly with the sheer wonder on Vahlen's face. Well, even if her mother ended up not appreciating the dedication song, it would be comforting to know that Vahlen, at least, was here to enjoy it.
The song came to a close, and Weiss caught the eye of the lead musician while they waited for the audience to applaud. The orchestral lead nodded at Weiss, who took a deep breath and waited for the noise in the music hall to die down before speaking.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Weiss began, "thank you all for being here tonight."
A few murmurs rippled through the audience, though they tried to remain respectful. Whenever Weiss performed, she would come out, sing her songs, and then leave. For everyone present (her father included), this was the first time Weiss was speaking during a performance.
"This event is very important to me, and it means a lot that all of you have so graciously chosen to come in aid of the communities and people who are in need of help, and in need of a message of peace and hope. Coming together for the sake of unity and support… it means far more to those who are struggling, of course, but it also means a lot to me. So I wanted to thank you all for your generosity tonight."
Weiss waited for the applause to die down before continuing.
"I have one more song for tonight. It's a song that, with perhaps one or two exceptions, I am certain no one here has heard before. I learned of it during my travels over the past year, and I think — I hope — it is fitting for tonight's message to the world of Remnant. Thank you."
The audience was silent, waiting with interest for this mystery song. Weiss wondered with amusement what her father was thinking right now. Was he panicking because there was now a part of the performance that he wasn't anticipating? One that was out of his control? Was he worried that Weiss was about to embarrass the family name? Well if he had any sense at all, he would realize that she was sincere about this night being important to her. But the thought of him struggling with control was enjoyable for Weiss.
The music started, and Weiss allowed herself to briefly enjoy the gentle notes of the lead-in. For a band of musicians that had only heard this song for the first time a few days ago, her accompaniment was doing an amazing job of teasing out the beauty of the sheet music.
'Don't lose your way… with each passing day… you've come so far… don't throw it all away.'
Her thoughts drifted from her father to her mother, and Weiss hoped that Willow would make the connection that this was the song Weiss was secretly dedicating to her. She also hoped that Willow would catch that the words weren't simply a message to Remnant.
'If we hold on together… I know our dreams will never die… Dreams see us through to forever… where clouds roll by…'
Weiss took a deep breath and looked up at her mother. 'For you and I.'
Willow's face didn't change, though Weiss would have been surprised if it did. Still, she didn't go through all of this trouble to just say, "well I tried. Oh well."
'Souls in the wind… must learn how to bend… seek out a star… hold on to the end.'
While her mother may not have been moved by the song, Weiss could clearly see Vahlen getting misty-eyed on Willow's right. She remembered when the doctor introduced her to The Land Before Time, where Weiss first heard this song. It wasn't Vahlen's usual Disney fare, but she was adamant that it was one of the 'classics' that Weiss should watch. And after the two of them went through it on one of their movie nights, Weiss had to agree with the doctor's assessment.
And maybe she was getting caught up in the moment, maybe the personal meaning this song had for her was doing things to Weiss's mind, but she suddenly felt lighter. As though a heavy weight had lifted off of her chest.
'If we hold on together… I know our dreams will never die… Dreams see us through to forever… where clouds roll by…'
It honestly didn't matter if Willow didn't appreciate the words Weiss was singing for her. Not only would Remnant appreciate it, but Weiss herself needed to sing this for her mother. She needed to reach out like this, to tell both Willow and herself that she wasn't giving up. Her father was an awful person who deserved neither sympathy nor pity, but her mother? As much as Weiss hated the cowardice exhibited by Willow, she still held fast to the belief that her mother was redeemable.
'For you and I.'
As she sang the words for all the world to hear, Weiss could feel her resolve grow stronger. Not just with respect to her mother, but her work with XCOM, with the people of Atlas… everything. For all of her lies and deceit, the woman sitting next to Jacques Schnee was right about one thing: the world needed paragons of justice and action to make the world a better place. Cinder Fall may be a false prophet, but Weiss was determined to help XCOM become the real deal. After all of their suffering, the people of Remnant deserved a force of good in their lives.
Weiss started in on the last refrain of the song, and something spontaneous, something… magical happened.
She could hear voices in the audience joining her.
'If we hold on together… I know our dreams will never die… Dreams see us through to forever… where clouds roll by…'
The musicians held the final note, Weiss bowed to show her appreciation for the heartfelt gesture of the audience, and the people rose to their feet in applause. With all the energy and emotion in the room, tears came unbidden to the corners of Weiss's eyes.
The music stopped, the audience grew silent, and Weiss's strong, determined voice finished the chorus.
'For you… and I.'
The applause was almost deafening, certainly louder than anything Weiss had ever heard at one of her concerts. Her heart pounded in her chest as the audience continued to show their appreciation for Weiss's performance. Weiss had to admit, she was surprised. She had hoped that her song would resonate with anyone listening, but this? This was a far more powerful reaction than what she was expecting.
And yet, she definitely felt a shift at some point during her performance. Somewhere, something changed from "dreary and formal" to "hopeful and energetic." Perhaps the audience felt the same change, and it pushed their emotions over the edge during the finale?
She fought back a few wayward tears as she curtsied her thanks to the (still-clapping) audience, and stole one more glance up at her mother's box before it was time to exit stage right. Vahlen was on her feet and positively beaming at Weiss. Bradford was right there with her, smiling broadly in appreciation of Weiss's message. Beagle had two sets of fingers jammed into his mouth, and Weiss was easily able to hear his high-powered whistle over all the rest of the noise in the concert hall.
And her mother?
Perhaps it was merely a trick of the light, but although Willow was still seated, Weiss could just barely make out a smile on her face
That smile meant more to her than anything else tonight.
Patrol coming up from the intersecting hallway, Elena reported.
Annette relayed the message to Fox so that he could blast it to the rest of Dagger Team, and all of the operatives (and Klein) pressed themselves up against the multitude of door frames lining the path moments later. The group held their collective breath as they heard a pair of guards come into earshot while chatting with each other.
"Damn, this shift sucks."
"Tell me about it. Room chock full of Atlas's finest, all dressed in their mating plumage, and we're stuck watching some dumb hallways."
Annette had to suppress a snicker at the guard's choice of words.
"Yeah, well… Boss Man pays the bills, and if he wants to throw Lien at us to walk around an empty part of his mansion doing fuck all? Can't exactly say no."
"True."
From the sound of their voice, the pair had gone the other way at the intersection, which meant that there would be two fewer victims for Dagger to knock out and mind wipe tonight.
"Hey… have you heard from Jenkins's team recently?"
"Nah. They're probably holed up in a utility closet enjoying some of the evening's festive cheer."
"Probably. Poor bastard deserve a little downtime, honestly. Boss has been running Jenkins ragged for the last couple of days. I'd actually feel bad reporting him to the CO for slacking."
"Yeah. Shame we weren't on his detail. Could've been playing cards over drinks or some shit right about now."
"Maybe next time."
As their chatter started to fade down the hallway, Annette once again heard the team's Reaper in her head. Alright, we're clear.
The team moved again, with Klein at the front as he led them down the seemingly endless maze of hallways on their way to (hopefully) the mansion's greatest secret.
A few minutes into their march, Annette paused for a moment. The group stopped and looked at her curiously. Everyone, that is, except for Blake and Fox.
"Yeah, that's Weiss," Blake said. "Sounds like her performance has started."
Annette let out a quiet, disappointed huff. "Would have been nice to get some seats a little closer for the show."
"Even from here, it sounds lovely," Ren agreed.
While it was unfortunate that the team had to miss Weiss's performance, it meant that they had a window where they knew with absolute certainty that Jacques Schnee would not be in his office.
Klein guided the group through the (thankfully) uneventful but scenic remainder of the journey. Jacques, Annette discovered, was into some really fucked-up art. How else would one explain dropping a small fortune on a life-sized statue of a King Taijitu made out of pure marble? Still, it was obvious from the lack of guards crossing their path that Klein was familiar with the layout of their patrols when Jacques put on events like this. Elena continued to provide Annette with recon updates whenever she advanced ahead of the group down a hallway or up a flight of stairs. With Weiss's performance going on faintly in the background, Klein brought the group to a halt at the end of another corridor.
Fox soon explained, Klein's saying that Jacques's study is in the next hallway. Elena is already moving ahead and reporting one guard posted outside. She's not seeing any other defenses-
Wait.
Annette almost jumped at Asaru's voice.
Hold up, Fox.
Something wrong?
Not sure yet, just… give me a moment.
Annette turned her thoughts inward and asked her companion, What is it?
A presence.
You mean other than the guard Elena saw?
Psionic.
… Oh. Annette felt Asaru pour some of his own energy into her psyche to help boost her ability to detect other minds. And as she reached out to locate what Asaru had felt (Carefully. Avoid detection, her companion warned), she felt the presence of the door guard, as expected. But she also felt a thin tether linking the soldier to another entity. A psionic tether.
"Is everything alright?" Klein whispered to Annette. He looked nervous. "I… I don't feel so good standing around here. We should deal with the guard quickly and get inside."
She held up her hand, index finger raised, as her mind carefully followed the link. It wasn't mind control, Annette knew that much. Was the guard even aware of it, though? The further she followed the tether, the more powerful the presence became. It was emanating energy, which made Annette wonder why she didn't notice it before. Was it concealing itself? No… the energy was powerful, but mundane. Klein's nerves, Annette realized, were probably due in part to this entity. She assumed that working under the oppressive rule of Jacques Schnee was all it took to cast an emotional dark cloud over anyone residing in the manor, but now it seemed like this thing was very likely feeding into that negative emotion.
Fox, there's something inside the study. I think it will notice when we neutralize the guard, and I don't know how it will respond.
Pause. Then, Is it friendly?
Almost certainly not.
Damn. How do we deal with it?
Again, Asaru spoke up. Suppression.
The intent behind his single-word answer came through to Annette far more easily than it should have: she and Asaru would engage the thing in a Mind War and prevent it from attacking (or calling for help) while the rest of Dagger Team broke into the study to take it down.
I might have a way, she answered Fox. How long does Klein need to get the door open?
About a minute. Jacque-hole keeps it alarmed, but apparently Klein learned years ago how to bypass it.
Alright. You need to give me and Elena the signal to punch it at the same time. She'll take care of the guard, I'll handle the… thing. And then Klein needs to haul ass to the door and get it open. Let the huntsmen know that they'll have to quietly take down whatever is on the other side of that door once Klein's got it open. I'd appreciate someone watching my back while I work.
Right. Yats'll keep you company.
Silently everyone got into position. The Reapers were standing by even before the group had reached the corner, huntsmen crouched low and held their weapons ready, and Annette glanced over to see a look of determination on Klein's face. In the background, Weiss's voice continued to sing.
Go.
Annette's mind ran the rest of the way up the psionic tether and crashed into whatever was keeping an eye on the guard. Half a second later, she heard the butt of a rifle collide with the back of the doorman's head followed by the pitter-patter of footsteps from the rest of Dagger.
Shit. Thought for sure that the sneak attack would put him down. Vessira! Keep him quiet! Klein, the door.
As the fight at the door (silently) raged on, Annette focused on her own skirmish. The good news was that the psionic entity didn't have the same mental presence as an Ethereal. The bad news is that it fought and bucked hard once it realized another mind was trying to lock it down. Almost immediately, Annette could feel surges of energy emanating from the thing as it tried to break past Annette and Asaru and reach out to whatever was listening.
Flow, Asaru commanded. At his word, more energy trickled into Annette's mind. With the same calm force that she once used to soothe the psionic maelstrom of the self-destructing Temple ship, Annette shaped her psychic will and projected it onto the creature like a smothering blanket. She winced as it screeched into her soul and fought to escape its telepathic confines.
Alright, guard's still refusing to go down, but Klein's halfway through the door, Fox encouraged.
Good, because this fight was draining Annette quickly.
Breathe.
Such a simple command, and yet Annette felt invigorated by her companion's encouragement. She drew in life from the air around her and redoubled her efforts to lock the monster in her psychic cage.
It definitely was a monster. The thing was psionic, sure, but its mental blueprint was nothing like any sapient race Annette had encountered. It had intelligence, but at the same time? It felt feral.
Sweat beaded down Annette's face as she concentrated on the thrashing psychic creature. As its desperation grew, its efforts to break through her barrier became more reckless. Annette hoped that her attacks had physically paralyzed the thing, otherwise it was going to be difficult for Dagger Team to make it look like nobody had broken into the office while Jacques Schnee was away.
Just a little longer…
Crush.
Yeah, that I can do.
Annette sent another surge of psionic energy crashing into the monster, and its squeals echoed through her mind. Its vain counterattacks stabbed at her very essence, but Asaru's soothing energy acted almost like a painkiller and allowed Annette to focus on keeping up the pressure.
We're in.
Almost immediately, Annette heard the voices of the other operatives on Fox's network.
Ohhhh holy fuck, what is that? Behind the bookcase.
It's definitely Grimm.
I'm really glad Yang isn't here.
Despite the fact that she was now on her knees from the strain of her exertion, Annette wondered what Blake meant by that.
Careful! Those tentacles are definitely not just for show, and those daggers on the tips look sharp.
Ah.
Guys can we please focus?
Asaru seemed to agree with Blake. Surge.
With one final push, Annette sent a psychic wave of energy at the creature. She had no energy left to do anything but maintain the monster's prison, though she didn't need to hold that for much longer.
It's down. I take it the paralysis just now was your doing, Major?
She could sense the psionic presence cease to exist, but Annette didn't have the energy to answer. Not even mentally. Even though the monster was weaker than an Ethereal, she'd never had to worry about constraining the psychic signals of her foe until today. Hell, she didn't even know that was possible until Asaru claimed that it was. As she curled into a fetal position, Annette felt a pair of powerful arms pick her up and carry her into the study.
With Annette clearly in no shape to lead, Blake took charge.
"Alright, spread out and see if you can find anything. Remember: gloves on, and don't touch anything unless absolutely necessary. E/M countermeasures are deployed, so any video feeds in here should be disabled. If you have any questions, see if Klein can help. Ren, check out the gap in the shelves where that Grimm came from."
"Agreed."
Annette felt herself get lowered to the floor as Yatsuhashi gently propped her up against the wall of the office.
"Are you feeling alright?" the gentle giant asked.
Annette nodded, her eyes still closed. "Yeah. Thanks for the help."
"Of course."
Fox took a seat on the wall next to Annette and addressed his teammate. "Hey Yatsu, do you mind taking a closer look at the guard for me? His soul felt different from the other guards we've encountered so far, like there was less of it. I think he might have been one of the, ah… modified soldiers that we've seen so far. Not sure if we'll be able to leave this one behind."
"I will investigate," Yatsuhashi said, leaving Annette in Fox's care while the rest of Dagger Team began their search. Elena joined the sweep as well, though Vessira stayed outside just in case Fox's Soul Sense picked up someone approaching the study. Every now and then, someone would speak over Fox's telepathy network and give the Major a sense of how the sweep was progressing.
Yeah, this dude keeps some weird shit in his personal library.
Not how I'd phrase it… but an apt description. He keeps many texts on Grimm, especially the ones that are of the mind-altering variety.
There's nothing back here where the Grimm was. Either Jacques didn't know it was there, or this space was just a place for it to stay or hide when he had guests.
That thing was fuckin' dangerous, though. Was he really able to keep it from killing him?
Found something. Jacques has been keeping a black book. There's quite a bit in here.
Photograph everything. Everyone else, we're out of here in five. Klein can't stay away from the party much longer.
Shame he doesn't have a computer or anything in here. Be nice if we could copy the drive.
Perhaps. But this black book is very thorough.
Drawer over here is locked. We don't have enough time to safely open it, though. But Jacques has things in here that he doesn't want prying eyes to find.
Wonder why the black book wasn't secured like that.
Hubris?
Alright, done with the documentation.
Good. Let's get out of here. Major? You ready to move?
Annette sighed, then slowly got to her feet. She would have liked a few more minutes to rest, but doing what you liked was rarely an option for XCOM.
Yeah, I'm good. Might need Yats to help if we need to move quickly, though.
It would be my pleasure, Major. We will also need to take the guard with us. He is exhibiting the same signs of Grimm decay as the soldier we took from the battlefield at Avitus. I don't think we'll want to leave him here for Jacques to discover.
That's… unsettling. Alright. Time to move. We'll wait for Klein to lock up, and then split off for a quick exit. Nicely done, team.
For once, it felt good to have an op where (almost) everything went by the numbers.
From Hogarth's vantage point, the slums were a mess. He knew that Ilia's optimism and bias allowed her to see all the good done by the Downside's residents, but she'd never seen war-torn Earth after the alien invasion like Hogarth had. Try as he might, the man couldn't help but see the decay and destruction that surrounded the slum dwellers while they tried to scrape out a living. The derelict buildings... the trashed vehicles... the only difference here was that the wounds of the war torn city were self-inflicted, caused by years of neglect and abuse from the uptown citizens who both abandoned and oppressed their fellow countrymen down below.
Then again... is that not what EXALT did on Earth?
Hogarth knew his conscience would never be fully free from the sins of his past, but at least he could help the people here fight back.
Movement down below. Hogarth zeroed in with his scope and saw an ADVENT patrol strolling down one of the main streets.
"Sector Four," he warned, "go inactive until I give the all-clear."
Almost immediately, the residents several blocks away shifted their activities. 'Fence projects' in the backyards of houses were laid down and hidden under a mess of fabric, trash, and soot. Teenagers out front who were tagging symbols and establishing sight lines dropped their paint cans out of sight and dispersed. People filed out of an unassuming house (currently in use for prepping supply caches) and set up lunch at a picnic table.
In less than a minute, the neighborhood was populated with the usual fare of slum dwellers shuffling about and finding ways to entertain themselves.
As far as Hogarth could tell, ADVENT hadn't caught on yet that the people down here were up to something. They did increase the number of patrols (and started dispatching those damnable surveillance drones), but they weren't really badgering the civilians more than usual. More than likely, the increased patrols were a result of the run-in with XCOM. ADVENT decided that they needed to prove that they should be trusted, it seemed. From the reports he'd received, there hadn't been any abductions since Ilia's stunt.
That worked in XCOM's favor.
From his position, he could see a couple of civilians casually moving along the street who just so happened to be walking in the same general direction as the ADVENT patrol. Consistently. For multiple blocks.
He switched the channel on his comm and activated it. "Armstrong, your tailing needs to be more discreet. If I can notice it, so can ADVENT. Spread your team out to cast a wide net so that you're not constantly following the patrol."
"Shit. Understood," came Flynt's response. Two of his teammates broke off and circled around in an attempt to get into flanking positions. Not perfect, but certainly a good start.
The goal, aside from helping the team of student huntsmen practice important covert skills, was to get a better idea of ADVENT activity in the slums. Several stations had already been identified, and the people had a general idea of how often troops came by, but Hogarth wanted more concrete information regarding patrol routes, which stations were assigned to which precincts, and how the precincts were actually defined.
"Sector Seven, resume scouting activities."
Another neighborhood switched back into gear as a different patrol left their area. Rather than working on fortifications and munitions, they were currently charged with mapping out the battlefield. Developing escape routes, identifying choke points and kill zones, determining where support personnel should deploy for maximum efficiency…
Hogarth had to hand it to them: while these people may not be military trained, while they knew that pushing back against ADVENT could be a very dangerous prospect, their drive to fight for their families and for Blanche was impressive.
Blanche… who was she, anyway? Hogarth had his suspicions, and he was almost certain that Odei knew. If Odei knew, that meant that Bradford knew. So why hadn't they been briefed on Blanche yet? The only thing Hogarth could guess was that Blanche's identity was so important that it put the information on a need-to-know basis. That alone supported his own theory about who she could be. After all, the number of people who fell into the category of "important, but needs to remain hidden" could be counted on one hand by a soldier who'd lost two fingers.
Well, if XCOM had someone like that on their side, hopefully she wouldn't need to reveal herself during the battle. And hopefully the slums would be in a good enough place afterwards that Bradford could convince her to join them onboard the Avenger after all was said and done.
Which meant that Hogarth's job of getting this place ready for war had become a lot more important.
"Hogarth, it's Ilia."
Ah. A pleasant surprise.
"Status?" Hogarth asked.
"Activity at Station Gamma," Ilia reported, "They've got a vehicle pulled up to their back entry point, and they're unloading supplies. Trying to be subtle about it, but it looks like heavy equipment. Padded armor, heavy weaponry, and I think I saw a few more of those stun batons."
Interesting. It looked like ADVENT wasn't planning on letting things go after they suffered a public insult at Ilia's hands. How thoughtful of them.
"Keep a low profile. Getting caught would be bad in any situation, but if they figure out that you witnessed this?"
"Yes, sir. I've got myself covered."
A few days ago, and Hogarth would have expected a, 'Yeah, yeah, I know what I'm doing.' It was good to hear Ilia understanding the importance of respect. She'd already come a long way from when Bradford convinced Sienna Khan to spare her life and give her to XCOM. Hogarth could only hope that she would continue to grow and prove her worth to her people.
Just like he was doing.
From the moment Bradford had assigned Ilia to Hogarth, he knew why the Central Officer had selected him. Anyone else onboard the Avenger would have done an admirable job of working with Ilia, to be sure. But none of them had walked the road to atonement in the same way as Hogarth. Bradford had entrusted him with a responsibility, and Hogarth swore he would carry it out to his last breath.
After all, the penitent under his care deserved the same opportunity that he had.
Hogarth almost keyed his comm to let Ilia know that he was proud of her accomplishments, but he hesitated and thought better of it. No point in throwing her game off with compliments, especially when she was in a critical moment like this.
But he made a note to buy her a beer tonight after their work was done.
