A/N: Almost to chapter 50! Holy crap!
Book Two: Corruption's End
Chapter 49: Broken Toy Soldiers
"If I could sum up my service in a single sentence, it's this - the Guard doesn't give a shit. You could be the airborne soldiers they've seen since the Elysians, but without the name recognition you're just a big pile of meat." - Veteran Sergeant Janice Vadiik
"That bad?"
"Shut up, assassin-man," Yang said, wiping at her eyes. "I don't know what to fucking think. My life doesn't make sense anymore."
Amat offered her his arm. "Thought that would be the first thing on your mind when you arrived in the Imperium," he said. "Not eight months into it." She accepted his help, leaning on him as she stumbled back towards Prexius' lab.
"Shouldn't have thrown my cane away," she muttered. "Stupid piece of shit."
They didn't speak much after that. Not until Amat led her away from the hallway that led back to the lab.
"This isn't the way," she said.
"We're leaving. We're the last to go, too," Amat said.
"Ah," Yang said. It's amazing how fast this place can get gutted. "Are you coming with me? On the mission?"
Nodding, the assassin smiled. Or at least, gave her his version of a smile, which tended to be a quick upwards twitch of the lip. Yang clapped him on the shoulder. Sniffing, she wiped at her nose.
"Glad to hear it bud," she said, putting on a grin. "I could use that compensation-stick of yours."
"My what?"
Shrugging, she tucked a stray strand of gold behind her ear. "Never mind. Just messing with you." She looked away. Weiss' words stuck with her, clinging to her mind like a poisonous hangover. "Why do you not hate me?"
"Not much to hate," Amat said. "You confuse me sometimes. A lot actually," he said. "But why would I hate you? Where is this coming from?"
Weiss. But Yang didn't say that. "It's just... I'm a psyker… you were supposed to kill me. I fell. Or I started to, at least. Now here we are, smiling and carrying on like it never happened. That doesn't… I don't know… bother you?"
"Yang, two months ago you told me you died. In the time since then, that managed to be the least strange thing that I've learned. You didn't fall. That's all that matters. 'The gait of a truly righteous man may falter, but will never collapse." He paused.
A look of supreme confusion flickered over his face, the heartbeat-flash of a lost man. It was present for only a moment before it vanished completely. Yang squeezed his wrist, and he blinked.
"Mother used to say that. I don't even remember what she looked like."
"If you'd met me a few years ago, I'd say we have something in common," Yang said with a smirk, eager to sweep her angsting under the rug. Wasn't like her to dwell.
But for that matter… why? Why is he so… okay with everything? Is that Weiss' doing? The Temple's? She knew he spoke the truth, that much was certain. He didn't have a deceitful bone in his body. But why that was so still eluded her.
"Raven, right?"
"Raven," Yang agreed, a rueful grin on her face.
Amat met her violet eyes. If he were anybody else, he probably would have grinned. "I know your mother better than my own. Though she didn't seem like the motherly type."
"She most certainly wasn't. 'Gait of a righteous man' is something though. The first thing my mom said to me… she said it after saving my life. 'Don't expect something like that again'. But she couldn't even say it in person. I'd say you're the luckier one."
"Maybe," he said. His beard scratched at her cheek, and she itched at it with a free fringer.
"Funny how things work out. Now, why don't you do something about this beard, man?"
"My what? Oh," he said, teasing the sandy hairs between his fingers. "Yeah. Due for a shave."
"You could probably pull off a good five o'clock shadow," Yang teased, turning his chin. "But you didn't hear that from me."
"I have no idea what that is."
Yang laughed, leaning against his shoulder as a wince of pain stabbed her in the gut. "I'm sensing a theme here. Now come on, don't we have a starship to catch?"
The question of Amat's puzzling attitude could wait. For now, she was just happy to have him along.
"Yang?" The first time Asgeg said her name, it was tremulous. Weak. "Yang?" Stronger now, like a whisper of breath from a drowning woman. "Praise the Emperor! It's you!" With a brittle smile, Yang approached her friends.
She'd ditched the over-soft and sterilized robes for her usual simple duds, fatigues and a plain white tank-top. Bandages still stretched around her torso, the knot of which bulged against the fabric on her flank.
"It's me, guys," She said. Ducking into the Ascendant Dawn's barracks, she removed the bloodstained beret that sat uneasily on the crown of her head. Knotting it up in her hands, she bit her lip, sucking in a long breath. "I'm back."
"Holy shit!" Someone cried. "She's alive!"
A flood of humanity engulfed her, a tide of small brown-skinned Woadians padding against the cold metal floor to greet their champion. A million questions washed over her, elated burbles that brought forth a flood of salt. The questions didn't stop, but they still acknowledged her tears, pressing into her with warm embraces and bright, honest smiles.
She buried her face into Asgeg's hair, filling her fingers with the woman's stark-white locks. Why am I crying? Yang found she couldn't answer that. Mael reached up, clapping a rough hand around her shoulder.
Wiping her tears, Yang did the same, sniffing all the while. Her muscle bound friend was getting all misty-eyed, and she noticed he'd cut his hair. His shaggy mane of ice-white hair had suffered the laceration of a determined razor, with the sides of his head left pale and bare. What was left was tied into a topknot.
"Nice haircut, bud," she said, scraping at the stubble behind his ears.
"Dumbass got himself married," Asgeg said, still beaming. Her metal hand ate up the back of his head, giving it a gentle shake. "Gave him the traditional scraping. Looks halfway respectable now, don't he?"
"Where's the lucky lady?" Yang asked, craning her neck as she scanned the barracks for Soo. Mael shrugged.
"She's probably with the medics right now," Asgeg said. "She's been working pretty hard at it. Yang, you okay?" She asked, leaning forward.
"I… yeah. I'm sorry I scared the shit out of you guys down there," Yang said, gesturing at Uriel. "Something… came over me."
"I'd say," a voice called out. Caolin's voice.
While what remained of Gamma had come to greet Yang, Caolin stayed back, a lho-stick dangling from his fingers. Turning to face her, she saw that the war-paint that Ros had given him was still there - in a manner of speaking. It'd been covered over with tattoos, marking him forevermore as a warrior.
"E-Easy," Lana warned, tugging at Yang's fatigues. "He's been through a lot," she said. Yang nodded stoically.
"Yo Caolin! You gonna mope around over there like a little bitch, or are you gonna come give me a hug?" She demanded, calling out to her friend. Lana winced, and Mael's face met his palm. Laughing, Caolin leapt up from his bunk, a grin on his face.
They met halfway, holding each other tight.
"How're you holding up buddy?" She asked, whispering into his ear.
"Not… not well," He said. Yang nodded, retreating from their embrace. She cupped his cheek in her hand, and her thumb caressed the blue tattoos under his eye.
"I know. I'm sorry for flying off the handle back there. Hitting you."
"It's okay," he said, taking ahold of her wrist. His other hand brought up his lho-stick, and he took a drag. "It really is. I just wish I could have done the same damage you did."
"Damn straight," Yang said, punching him in the gut. "This is what I got for it too," she added, lifting her tank top. "Check it out."
Caolin's drag deepened, and his eyes went wide. "Holy God Emperor," he breathed, spilling smoke from between his teeth.
"You gettin' an eyeful over there Caolin?" Asgeg asked, smirking.
"Look at this shit!" Caolin said, spinning Yang around. Gasps and whispered prayers hissed through the gathered Woadians as they saw the scars that rippled across her stomach.
Yang posed for them, flexing so she could make the scars ripple and dance. "Pretty cool huh? Turns out I'm rocking more augs then Asgeg now," she said, patting her abs. "New kidney, stomach, and a liver to boot."
"As if it needed the h-help, "Lana said, groaning. Yang pulled her tank top down, concealing the scars once more.
"You see why I've been out of touch for a while, right?" She asked, cracking her knuckles.
"It's a miracle you're still standing," Caolin said. "Holy Terra. How are you feeling?"
"Alright, I guess," Yang said. "Need to get back to my routine. Pump some iron," she said as she flexed her biceps. It'd been too long since they got a good workout. "What have you guys been up to?"
Silence greeted her, before a few mumbled prayers and quick Signs of the Aquila rippled through the platoon.
"We've been fighting," Caolin said, his eyes hard and unyielding. "Our Lady's led us in the cleansing of Uriel. It..." he trailed off, a knot in his throat constricting his speech. "The eldar were just the start of it." Finishing his lho-stick, he dropped it onto the deck, grinding it into ash with a barefooted heel. "Ros, Emperor bless her," he said, fists clenched, "Even Ros would've had a hard time pushing through that nightmare. There were so many bodies, Yang. And they all had to be burned. Guardsmen, traitor, cultist…" he shook his head. "We'd fight all day, until our bayonets broke and our batteries were spent. I've clubbed more men to death the past two weeks than I shot."
"Terra," Yang breathed, trying to meet his gaze. But his eyes had clouded over, and he lit another lho-stick absentmindedly.
"One week on, and we lost Major Hrakkson. Entire platoon," he said, waving his hands. "Poof. Gone. There were these... things," he said, the act of remembering misting his eyes with pain. "Monsters. Giants. Cultists who had fused themselves with metal. Had these giant raven symbols on their chests. Brands," he guessed, taking a drag. The platoon shuddered.
Josephus, Yang thought with a scowl. Those traitor marines had that same emblems on their oversized pauldrons. And Major Hrakkson's dead. Fuck. In a thought that soured her mind, her mind flicked to his girlfriend, the muscled radio-operator. Shit's unfair.
"Where's Theni?" Yang asked, preparing herself for the worst. The Woadians frowned, but not overly-grieved. One spat.
"He's alive, but he'll never be a soldier again," Caolin said. "Eldar nicked him during the ambush with a poisoned blade. Fuck," he said, gritting the word out. "He screamed for a week. Almost died."
Yang winced. "Aw shit… that's not fair." Her friends nodded. "He up and about?"
Asgeg shrugged, rolling her shoulders. "Still in a wheelchair… but he lives with the Ranshans now. Tough son a bitch, I'll give him that."
"Ah, shit," Yang said with a sigh. "I wish I could've been there for you guys," Yang said, glancing at Gamma. They brightened at that, and Yang was briefly confused.
"Thing is," Asgeg started, her finger tugging at one of her side-braids. "You still were... kinda. For some reason, whatever sleep we got… we didn't get much, I should add," she said. Caolin puffed in agreement. "We dreamed about you. All of us."
Yang sucked in a breath, parsing the rest of Gamma for someone to deny it. No one did. They just bowed their heads, sheepish, humble grins stretched across their faces.
"No matter how long we slept. Half hour. Two hours… we would dream about you, and wake up feeling like we'd been out for twelve."
Yang wanted to chuckle, make fun of the absurdity of the statement, but her throat had gone as dry as a desert. "Nothing perverted, I hope," she joked, trying to ignore the Inquisitor's words, the ones that scratched at her mind, demanding her attention - 'You do things without realizing it. Your psychic power is greater than you can imagine.'
I feel sick.
Mael shook his head.
Yang sat down on her bunk. The one she used to share with Ros. Though it was impossible, it felt like the Ascendant Dawn no longer sailed through the stars, but rocked and pitched on an open sea. Her hands folded up, clasping together to keep from shaking. How did I do it? Why? She didn't remember anything of her brief coma except taunting visions of Ros... and, as always, the Glass Cage.
"You okay Yang?" Asgeg asked, taking tentative steps towards her friend.
"I… yeah. It's just… a lot to take in," Yang said, studying her fingers.
"You're b-blessed," Lana said. Once again, no one denied it, silence ringing in the barracks block.
"Maybe I am," Yang said, laying down. Above her was an empty bunk. She didn't think Weiss would like her admitting it, but the Inquisitor was so far away, riding the Scythe of Morning to whatever hellpit her superiors occupied.
Maybe I am... but I still couldn't save Ros.
Yang didn't know when she fell asleep, but she must have, because the lights had dimmed, and Gamma no longer crowded around her. At the foot of her bunk, they'd left a flask of Amasec. A small scrap of paper stuck out from underneath it.
'Sorry it's not Major Hrakkson's stuff,' it read. 'But it's the least we could do. We love you Yang. Ros did too, but she was always garbage at all that emotional stuff. I miss her a lot. It's not your fault. See you in the morning. - Caolin.'
The rustling of paper disturbed the quiet of the sleeping barracks as Yang's fingers dug into the note. Massaging her temples, she quietly opened her footlocker. She tucked the note into her wallet, right next to the Lien notes she would never spend. The pict Rhain took on Elodia stared back at her.
Smiling, she tucked it away.
I can't linger. Not anymore.
The realization pulsed through her. Never again. Lingering led to what happened on Uriel. Looking at the photo of team RWBY, she felt the familiar constriction of her heart, savoring it one last time.
She wasn't done grieving over Ruby. Her fingers slipped under her tank top, tracing the smooth ridges that webbed across her stomach. But she felt like it was time to start taking steps in that direction. I won't be like the Inquisitor.
It felt like a betrayal. Sacrilegious. If anything ever sounded like 'heresy' to Yang Xiao Long, it was that. Not grieving felt like forgetting, something she'd been so close to doing on Uriel… Remembering the slaughter she'd wrought, she could taste the forgeworld's acrid air on her tongue. Fuck.
Looking down at the amasec, she scooped it up and headed to the bathroom. Throwing a stall door open, she uncapped the flask and poured it into the toilet. She shook the last drops out from within the metal canister, upending it until nothing remained within.
Time to hit the weight room.
Tying her voluminous hair behind her head, a small grin stretched across her face. Maybe Amat will pop by to say hello. Stealthily grabbing her things from her locker, she plodded through the Ascendant Dawn, still smiling. Truth be told, she kinda missed her sandbag, and the tiny little stowaway room.
Fingers caressed the hallway as she passed, running over scrawled names and prayers by the hundreds. They almost covered the walls entirely now. After the endless sterile glow of Prexius' labs (and the unseeing glares of the numerous servitor 'darlings', as the Magus referred to them), the old transport felt like home.
Opening the creaking door to the weight room, she swallowed. The names in the corner reached the ceiling now, and the candles below them had melted into a puddle of wax. She knew the casualties were bad, but seeing it like this was... more personal.
The tape came out, and it was around her fists in a matter of seconds.
"Alright old buddy," she said, hooking the sandbag up. "Just you and me."
She was merciless. Exacting. It'd been a month since she had the opportunity to really exercise, and she used every second to vent her frustration, her failures. For a time, Weiss' drawn and gaunt features melted away, along with Gamma's adoring stares. For a time, it was just endless thumping, the sensation of sand giving way to her unrelenting fists.
Like a trickling river of warmth, her aura kept her upright, through tiny winces of pain that needled her endlessly, through the exhaustion that swept up sooner that should have. Each time she struck the bag, she let a little more power slip, sending it crashing and rattling in an uncontrolled spiral.
She couldn't deny it any more. Yang was overflowing with power, her soul was a wellspring of golden light and crackling ozone. She knew it was the warp that fueled her so, let her bellow out flame like a dragon.
Centering the bag, she huffed. Doing that again could be useful, as long as I don't get all unhinged afterwards. Though whatever mission Weiss had in mind for her, she resolved to use her psykery as little as possible. Can't risk it without her around. I don't want to force Amat's hand. I need more practice. A clearer mind.
The bag rang, smacking against the ceiling. Her last chat with the Inquisitor… Why can't Weiss just be…
Words failed her, and she took a quick break for water. Underneath the tape, her knuckles were red and raw, just the way she liked them. Concentrating, she spilled aura into her hands, watching the skin smooth out into a set of white callouses.
"Well I'll be damned," she whispered. That was fast. Besides the pain of adjusting to her bionics, nothing seemed too different from… before. But unless she had her semblance completely unleashed, her aura never fixed wounds that readily.
Knuckles rapped against the steel door.
"Amat," she called out, "just the man I wanted to see!" The door fell open, revealing the masked Vindicare Assassin.
"How'd you know it was me?" He asked, head tilted.
"I'm smart like that. Why the mask, man?"
He made to put his rifle down, before deciding against it. "The Captain and the Lieutenant are looking for you."
Yang winced. "Darron and Chera? Weiss' guards?" She asked. Amat nodded. "Oh boy. What if I'd been asleep? Don't tell me they barged into the barracks looking for me."
Amat shook his head. "Not quite. I overheard them in the hall. They seem anxious," he added. "Not like them."
"Ah," Yang said. Great. Two jumpy kasrkin who hate me. Who I'm setting off on a mission with. "They send you after me?"
"Ah…" Somehow, Amat managed to look embarrassed in that cat-suit of his, even with his face completely obscured. "That's the thing. They don't know I exist. You're going to have to introduce us."
Thank the Emperor she wasn't drinking water at the time. "This… isn't exactly what I had in mind," Yang admitted.
"Oh, and the Lady Inquisitor neglected to tell them that you're a psyker. I think she wants you to explain that one."
Yang's lips moved, but she couldn't find words to push through them. She was heading off on a mission she had zero briefing on, with a bunch of twitchy stone-cold super-troopers that hated everything she was. And she had to explain that to them.
She found something to say.
"Well... fuck."
A/N: This does not bode well for Yang... the kasrkin, and the worshipful looks from Gamma. Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, and I'd love to hear what you thought!
Oh and a brief reminder: I'M STILL DOING REVIEW REPLIES, they're just via 's built-in review reply service.
Until next time, guys!