Above the Emerald Forest, there was a high-pitched shrill. Terrified woodland animals scrambled for cover as the producer passed overhead. Predators roared up at it grumpily.
Jaune Arc was aware of the commotion but could barely make it out. The roar of rushing wind drowned the sound. From what he could make out, the noise was like the shriek a scream queen would make in a slasher movie.
To what would have been his embarrassment under other circumstances, he soon realized the sound was coming from his own mouth. This was no normal situation though. Screaming like a little girl was an acceptable reaction to being clutched to the belly of a flying monstrosity.
"How!?" Roman shrieked. "How did you get kidnapped by a Grimm!?"
There was no need for him to raise his voice. Jaune could hear the thief perfectly. However, the boy was in no position to let him know.
The insectoid extremities surrounding Jaune began to tighten. Their barbed endings scraped against the white and purple plating. His armor was holding. He was not sure for how much longer that would be true.
"You need to get out of this and fast!"
There was a ding in the helmet from STRATOS. 'Significant elevation detected. Suggestion: Find a lower altitude when safe.'
"You're not helping!" Jaune croaked between screams.
He wiggled and kicked. His sword arm was trapped at his side, preventing him from swinging. The same was true of his other limb, which bore his shield between him and the underside of the creature.
Squirming, he used his left hand to search around the barrier. After much fumbling, he found the latch he was looking for and pressed down. The shield collapsed into its sheath form.
This extra bit of space allowed him to move. Jaune brought his blade around and pointed inward. The point caught between two portions on the Lancer's torso. From the awkward position he was in, he stabbed up.
A clicking thrum vibrated through the monster. Its legs loosened on instinct. Too loose. The Lancer was dropping him. Jaune's voice hit a new octave as the wind caught him. Once free, he began his downward journey towards a messy end.
And then he stopped. Air was twisting him all around, but he was no longer falling. It was as if he were suspended in the air.
Pressure in his left shoulder had him looking up. He found that he had somehow grabbed onto one of the Lancer's back legs. The hand holding on was glowing. There was an odd feeling throughout the closed fist. An odd prickling sensation, as if he had been sitting on it.
"I didn't mean it that way! Be thankful I'm a quick draw."
"Roman!? How-"
"No time! Focus on living!"
Jaune glanced down. All the green rushing by below like a river could have given him vertigo. This momentary lightheadedness was replaced by dread as the Lancer's stinger shot towards him.
With a yelp, he tilted to the left. The barb passed him by a nose hair before retracting. It then came around again. Jaune moved like a pendulum to the right. His stomach roiled while contemplating how long he could keep up before being impaled.
'Vulnerability detected.'
The space between the needle and the abdomen was highlighted. A stretchy organic fiber connected them. This was what was allowing the Lancer to pull the stinger back after each shot.
On the next go around, he rocked his body as far to the left as he could. The needle missed again. Acting quickly, he brought his sword down with all his might. Crocea Mors' edge sliced right through the muscle. Inky blood splashed out of the wound as the stinger fell away.
From the Grimm came what could have passed as a wail of pain. A shudder went through the creature causing a wobble along the flight path. Fed up, the Lancer tried something new. It began rolling in the air to fling away the annoying human.
Immune to physiological sensations, Roman stubbornly kept up the grip. Jaune was not as fortunate as he was taken along for the ride. He experienced what felt like a hundred revolutions.
Tired of the ineffective aerial maneuver, the Lancer ceased in mid transition. Stomach facing the sky, the offending limb and passenger landed on the thorax. Before Jaune could move, a menacing maw shot towards him. He tucked his chin.
Pincers clamped down on the helmet's crown. Then it began to squeeze. If the creature could no longer sting, it would instead crush.
'Head unit integrity compromised. Ejection recommended.' Flashed on screen before fizzling out.
STRATOS' warning was heeded. Jaune hit the helmet release button on his temple. The Lancer reared back with metal wedged in its mouth. It twitched back and forth, unsure of what to do.
"Kill it! Kill it! For the love of everything, kill it!"
With both hands, Jaune lifted his sword once more. He pointed the tip down and began thrusting. Ichor bubbled up from the perforations he made. None were deep enough to do as Roman demanded.
The Grimm eventually spat out the mouth obstruction. His helmet tumbled away into the foliage. Hateful slits turned back to the one stabbing it. Forearms grabbed the human to finish the job.
This last jerk proved too much for Jaune. His constitution had been suffering since they took to the air. Now with the air pressure on his naked face combined with the dizziness from before, he finally let up what he had been holding down.
His breakfast.
Chunks of food and gastric liquids spilled forth from his mouth. The contents of his stomach did not land on him. They instead went all over the Lancer's unsuspecting face.
It screeched as some of the sick landed in those scarlet compounded eyes. Temporarily blinded, the wicked hornet once again began to roll. Differently from before, the Grimm pitched straight down.
Boy and monster crashed into the greenery. Jaune was able to get his Aura up to deflect much of the damage. A branch still smacked him right in the gut. He folded around the offshoot, body oscillating, until coming to a stop. Groaning in relief, he climbed up to sit.
"We're not done yet."
Below, the Grimm was picking itself off the ground. The fall damage had not been kind. Two of its legs were broken, the pincers were missing, and a wing portion had bent at an odd angle. Still, it lived on.
Stuck in the middle of a very tall tree, Jaune was not sure what to do. All he had was the sword. Deploying his shield in such a limited space seemed like a bad idea.
"I'll have to wait until it gets closer."
Its wings began to flap. Even the crooked one contributed to bring the Lancer to a hover. The malevolent creature glared upward. Jaune braced himself.
It took off, though not in the direction he was expecting. Instead of flying right at him, the Lancer forcefully juked leftward. With a garbled cry, it rocketed off with a surprising amount of force over the canopy.
Confused, he watched the Grimm go. Bits of the insect had fallen off, including another leg. The messy contrail suggested it was not leaving under its own power.
A whoop of joy rang out gaining Jaune's attention. Where the Lancer had previously occupied was a lady clad in pink and white. Bizarrely, it was not the one he would have expected.
A few key differences set them apart from Neo. Instead of a cane, she wielded a war hammer. She was also a head taller with bright orange hair. Her sleeveless bleached shirt tucked into a blush skirt. Around her waist was a dark weightlifting belt.
There was a similarity between the two. One quite disconcerting to see in another after inflicting such sudden violence. She sported a wide and toothy smile.
"Did you see that!?" The non-mute shouted with unbridled exuberance, silver-headed hammer over the shoulder like a golf club. "I sent that oversized bumblebee packing! That's got to be worth a bazillion points!"
"It's not a competition." A taller male with long, black hair and a pink streak in the bangs came to stand beside her.
"You're only saying that because you're losing."
Pink-irises rolled. "Nevertheless, well done. That Lancer Drone could have caused problems if-"
He stopped. His head tilted up towards the tree Jaune was in. The female looked back at her companion, questioningly.
"Nora." He began calmly. "Did you ensure the area was clear before you charged in and started swinging Magnhild around?"
"Why? We're in the middle of nowhere. Who am I going to endanger if I cut loose?"
He extended his index finger. She followed the pointer. Her turquoise eyes, landing on the boy in the tree, widened in shock. Jaune weakly waved at them.
XVIII. Pay Off
After being helped out of the tree, Jaune was escorted to a new campsite. It was similar in layout to his and Neo's, except instead of two medium-sized tents there was a solitary big one. They sat him down near a crackling fire pit in the center.
He had a hard time collecting his thoughts. Six sticks skewering fish were pointed towards the fire. The catch — trout, judging by the smell — browned under the heat.
Jaune salivated at the sight of cooking meat. Despite his recent regurgitation, or perhaps because of it, he was starving for lunch. Manners stopped him from stealing one of the wooden staves and chowing down.
That and the girl beside him.
"So…" She stretched out the 'o' before taking a deep breath. "What brings you out here!? You can tell me, right? Or is it a secret? Ooh don't tell me. I'll guess. Are you testing out some kind of Grimm killing weapon? Oh wait, I told you not to tell me. Never mind then, tell me! I want to know everything!"
His sluggish brain struggled to understand. Her many words and accompanying gesticulations took a moment to digest. She vibrated in place while awaiting his answer.
"There's no secret. I'm just getting some extra training in before Beacon starts up."
She gasped. "You're going to Beacon!? So are me and Renny if we pass initiation. Which we will! Although maybe we ought to get some last-minute practice in as well! Say, you must be super strong to survive that Lancer! Want to spar? Iron sharpens iron, except when it doesn't. Never understood that saying. What do you say? Wanna go!?"
"Uh, maybe later?" Much later.
"Oh sure! You must be super tired. When though? After a power nap? You could rest in our tent! I don't mind. Being together with Renny has gotten me used to sharing sleeping spaces with dudes. Though we are not together-together. More like-"
There was a light cough. They both looked over to find the other boy standing there. He addressed her while keeping his attention on Jaune.
"The perimeter to the north was clear of threats. Would you mind checking the south? Food should be ready by the time you get back."
"You got it!"
With boundless glee, she grabbed her weapon and raced into the woods. A few seconds later, the girl came back. She waved at them before going the opposite way. Jaune understood.
Directions were hard.
Left alone, the dark-haired male went to the campfire. He lifted a metal rod at the side to poke the kindling. His attention was fully on the preparations. Or so it seemed.
"Interesting." Roman spoke for the first time since landing. "He's testing you. Seeing if you'll attack while his guard appears down. It's not, though."
Jaune was not sure what he meant before examining the other teen's posture. The guy never quite presented his back, always showing the side to the blond. His hand was also hidden, perhaps holding a weapon.
"A bit paranoid, but I can respect it. He must be confident he can take you in a fight to do so. Or that chick is hidden around here somewhere, watching for ill-intentions."
Now that Jaune thought about it, they did not say they were checking the perimeter for Grimm. Just 'threats.' The idea of the hammer-wielder smashing him like that Lancer caused his face to pale.
Despite meaning no harm, Jaune worried. What if his actions were misconstrued? What if he moved too fast and triggered their defenses? What if a sneeze set them off?
He now wished Roman had kept that observation to himself. Acting calm was easier when he was blissfully unaware. Luckily, the one who set the trap broke the tension.
"Sorry about earlier. Nora gets excited around new people."
"What? Like a puppy?"
"No worries!" Jaune responded with a little too much cheer to crowd out Roman's snark. "She reminds me of a few of my younger siblings. You're Renny, right? She mentioned you."
"Ren, actually. Nora is the only person who calls me that." He pulled a stick from the ground, examining both sides of the fish before nodding in approval. "Would you like something to eat? I caught plenty."
Jaune's stomach growled, which was answer enough. Ren gathered the remaining skewers and brought them to a small prep table. A simple cutting board and cooking knife were there. He allowed his guest to wield the blade.
Another test?
Jaune decided to get to work fileting. Already cleaned, all he had to worry about was separating flesh from bone. Ren watched along carefully. After the first two fish were prepared, he spoke.
"You are quite adept at food prep." He complemented.
"Somewhat. I'm no chef, but I have pitched-in around a kitchen before." Mostly for his mother and oldest sister.
"I appreciate your assistance, then. Nora hasn't the patience."
Ren joined in with another knife he pulled from somewhere unseen. Jaune tried not to think of from where it may have been hidden. Together they finished before setting the fish on beds of previously cooked rice and spices.
Three bowls prepared, they returned to the firepit to sit on a rolled-out mat. The flames had died down. Jaune resisted staring longingly at his own dish. He did not want the temptation. It would be rude to begin before his other host had returned.
"How long have you been traveling with Nora?" Jaune asked, trying to ignore his rumbling stomach. "Don't mean to be rude, but it seems you've been doing this awhile."
All their equipment was well used. Signs of natural wear and tear were everywhere, from the faded tent fabric to the chipped bowls. Each piece was utilitarian.
Nothing they owned was bulky or out of place. Everything was easy to roll up and store to leave at a moment's notice. These people were not playing-acting campers. They could live off the land for extended periods of time.
"Our companionship began when we were both small children in Mistral."
That was all he offered on the subject. Then they lapsed into silence. Feeling awkward, Jaune moved to another subject.
"You guys want to be huntsmen?"
"Correct."
"Cool. Cool." Jaune recalled something. "Wait. Isn't there an academy over there in Mistral? Haven, I think? Vale seems like a far way to come for an education."
Beacon was purportedly the best of the big four, the others being Shade in Vacuo and Atlas academy in its namesake. However, Jaune had chosen Beacon because of proximity. There was no way he would have crossed an ocean as Ren and Nora had done.
"Mistral holds many bad memories. We desired a fresh start."
That raised a lot of questions. Jaune was unsure if he wanted to dig into that. They were barely acquaintances at this point.
"They relocated for greener pastures. Good for them! Mistral is a wretched little kingdom anyway. I personally wouldn't shed a tear if the whole place tumbled into the ocean."
More questions for Roman as well. "That's neat. Where'd you go for your prep studies?"
Jaune was half asking to keep the conversation going and the other half to make sure he did not slip up. His fake transcripts were from a junior academy near Argus. He did not want to give up the ghost if it turned out they had also gone there.
"We opted for the non-standard entrance exam rather than a preparatory school."
"Oh! I'm not familiar with that."
"It is a solo evaluation. The Beacon professors personally assessed us to see if we met the minimum standards to attempt the initiation."
"That's an option?"
"It is for those from a non-traditional background. We will be at a disadvantage when it comes to book skills, but I suppose they believe we can catch up if our battle skills are sufficient."
"As opposed to you, who have neither book nor fighting skills."
"I'm… sure you will do fine."
"Thank you."
They sat once more in silence. Ren seemed comfortable in the quiet. Much more so than his guest. Perhaps sensing this, he made the next attempt to converse.
"If I may ask, how did you end up out here, alone, in a tree? Were you already up there when the Grimm arrived?"
"Funny story, that. I didn't start out that way. I originally came out here with-" His breath caught as he suddenly remembered Neo. "Oh crap!"
He tugged out his Scroll and found the ice-cream girl in his contacts. Hitting the call button began the process of connecting them. When he received a message that his request had timed out, his heart jumped to his throat.
"Everything okay?"
Jaune explained the initial incident with the warrior drones. How he had been separated from his back-up and the subsequent engagement with half a Lancer colony. He even mentioned the link up with Velvet and her amazing Hard-Light weaponry.
A few details were left out. Mentions of his initial hiding attempt and vomiting were omitted for obvious reasons. Also excised were specifics on Neopolitan. Roman had advised him to keep her presence a secret. She was a little too identifiable as a criminal element.
By the time he got to the aerial battle, Ren's eyebrows had raised into his hairline. "Nora finding you was quite fortunate. I hope your friend was also able to find safety."
While trying the Scroll again, Jaune hummed. Still nothing. Recalling her mad swings into the middle of that monster swarm had him wracked with guilt.
"I'm sure she's fine." He tried to convince himself. "I'm just…"
"Worried. An understandable emotion."
"I'd be less so if I could raise her on this stupid thing!"
"It may not be the Scroll itself having the problem. Could be a bad connection."
Sure enough, Jaune found that his signal was quite weak. It could have been that they were out of range for a local chat. The trees around them were probably not conductive for reaching a CCT substation.
"Guess I'll have to get to Vale to find out for sure." He glanced around in apprehension, unsure of how far he was from the city. "Whichever way that is."
"Once Nora returns and we finish eating, we can escort you."
"No way. You've already done too much!"
"Nonsense. We're happy to assist. It's why we want to become huntsmen."
Roman made gagging sounds. "Should've known they were a bunch of bleeding hearts. And here I was, nearly impressed with their moxie."
Why the spirit seemed so hostile to receiving this aid was confounding. Would he have preferred that Ren and Nora demand payment? Jaune was just happy to meet others who shared his ideals after being surrounded by so many that did not.
"Thanks. What about you?" Jaune asked out of curiosity. "How did you end up here? Not that I mind since I benefited, but why be out here when you could stay within the city?"
"Vale is expensive. Paying for the boat to bring us across the sea drained our funds. We already had the camping equipment, so we decided to sleep outside to save on lien."
"But why here specifically? You could've camped closer to the walls."
"Wildlife tends to stay away from there. If we wanted to eat, we had to be deep enough in the forest to find food sources."
They were like Jaune when he first arrived in Vale. Worse, actually. He was not destitute. Some run-down hotel would have eventually put a roof over his head.
"Maybe I could help with that?" He said without thinking.
"What do you mean?" Ren tilted his head to the side.
"What do you mean?" Roman echoed, wary of what might be proposed.
It took Jaune a few seconds to understand what he himself had meant. When the blond did, he smiled. There was a perfect way for him to return the favor.
"Since you are escorting me back anyway, I could put you up where I am staying in the city. I got plenty of money to see us all through until the semester starts."
"We would not seek to impose."
"You wouldn't be! It's just a hotel, so it's not that big a deal. I can even get you separate rooms if you like. Think of it as my way of paying you back for saving me."
"I'll need to discuss it with Nora."
"Go ahead." A flash of orange emerged from the thicket. "Here she comes now. You can do so while we eat."
Talk of food and the bubbly girl's arrival broke Jaune's resolve. He grabbed the bowl nearest him and dug in. Despite the invitation to speak with him present, Ren went off with Nora to broach the topic privately. A loud 'Totally!' was soon heard from where they had headed.
"Sounds like she agreed." Jaune said between bites.
"Don't speak with your mouth full."
/ / /
Officer Laurel Fiddle walked into a madhouse.
The senior policeman watched his juniors inside VPD Headquarters. Disorderly lines of grown adults pushed and shoved against each other to get inside various conference rooms. Their attempts to stuff themselves through the narrow door frames highlighted their childishness.
At other times, he would have marveled at this upheaval. Perhaps he would have been swept up in the hysteria. Current events had rankled him too much to bother.
Fiddle moved around them to the workspace and found his cubicle. It was one in a long line of gray cubes, each just as tacky as the next. The chair squeaked as he pulled it out along the slick tiles to gingerly sit.
A grunt and a wince escaped him. Despite being an open office, no one was around to witness his pain. The passing days had done little to heal those tender feelings, for not all of them were physical.
Mismatched eyes. Pink and brown. A smirk. These images haunted him.
Instead of diving into his paperwork, he stared at the walls. He was not sure how long he did so but eventually he heard a knock on his desk. His partner was there, now sporting a tan bandage over his re-broken nose.
"How'd it go?" Officer Piper asked in a nasally tone.
"Doc can't do nothing." Fiddle grunted.
"Laser removal is not an option?"
"Cuts were too deep."
They could zap the tattoo's ink away, but not the scarring. Fiddle would need a skin graft to cover the embarrassing words on his stomach. One problem: There was no way he could afford that. Such a surgery was considered elective.
His insurance would have covered it, but he had not reported the assault. Not being able to explain how the tattoo came about to his doctor had been embarrassing enough. Disclosing to his fellow officers could have triggered an IA investigation.
"That blows."
"It is what it is."
His mind once more drifted to that girl, Janus, or whoever she really was. Fiddle had checked the cadet roster and found no one fitting the name or the description. Both he and Piper had been played.
Yet, he thought little of the 'why' of how it had happened. Fiddle was more concerned with the 'what next' of the situation. As in, what he would do once he got his hands on her. How he would wipe those accursed facial features from Remnant.
Before he could become embroiled in a revenge fantasy, there was a loud clearing of a throat. The cop duo glanced over at another person who had entered their space.
"What's with all this standing around?" Sergeant Blassie pushed into their conversation.
Fiddle chafed under his boss's glare. "Just got in. Getting acclimated."
"Right. After your sick days. The ones you took after going off-shift for an entire afternoon and this one," She pointed to Piper. "Came back looking like his face got introduced to the business end of a two-by-four."
"That's right." He stated smugly.
The sergeant could guess all she wanted about what had prompted his leave of absence. Knowing Blassie, it was something highly unflattering like a day-drinking bender turned bar fight. That was all it would remain. A guess.
Unless she could prove something, her options to reprimand him were limited. All she could issue was a demerit for leaving work early without notification. Another meaningless piece of paper in his personnel file. And she knew it too.
"If you don't have any current assignments, I can find something. We got plenty of security footage to go over."
"That won't be necessary, ma'am." Piper interjected before she could make good on the threat. "I came over to grab him. Nadder asked to see us."
"Get to it, then."
With that, their supervisor walked off towards another boardroom. The other officers standing around made room for her. She yelled to get their attention before speaking to the full room as the meeting began.
"What crawled up her butt?" Fiddle gripped, groaning as he got out of his chair.
"Pressure's getting to her. She has been riding everyone hard."
"Someone ought to ride her hard." Unlikely to happen given her tastes for the fairer sex, but Fiddle could dream. "Anyway, Nadder wants us? Or was that just to get her to go away?"
As it turned out, they were needed. They walked over to the eastern wing of the building where all the top brass were accommodated. When they passed the major's regular office, Fiddle knew something was up.
Piper led them all the way to the furthest corner. The door he knocked on held a gold plate denoting the office as assigned to the 'Commissioner of Police.' A voice on the other side commanded to enter.
The office was enormous for a single person to occupy. Twice the size of the conference rooms. Carpeted floors and no cubbies marked it in stark contrast to the space for the uniformed and plainclothes personnel.
Behind the grand desk in the center was the Kingsnake. He looked quite at home. Cartons packed with nick-nacks and other personal effects lay by the side. From a previous visit to this office, Fiddle recognized the contents as belonging to the Commissioner. This left the desktop clear of everything except for a small lamp.
"Gentlemen. Please have a seat." Nadder beckoned them to the chairs that were before him.
The seats were ornate, made with wood that matched the desk. As Fiddle lowered himself, he noted the difference from the usual office chairs. They were comfortable and not nearly as flimsy.
Regular officers were not usually allowed in them. These were reserved for Council representatives and other important individuals. Everyone else had to stand when summoned before the leader of the department.
"As you may have heard, I am now the acting Commissioner."
This was the first Fiddle had heard of the promotion. Still, he was quick to offer his congratulations. His partner nodded along. There was no surprise on the other man's face.
"Thank you." Nadder soaked in the adulation before frowning. "But I would like to put an emphasis on the acting part of the title. This appointment only came about because of my seniority. The Council fully intends for this to be a temporary placement."
"That's too bad, sir." Piper offered diplomatically.
It really was. Fiddle could have gotten used to these surroundings. Usually, their clique had to sneak about to have meetings. Being able to do so openly, without fear of being overheard in the Commissioner's suite, would have been amazing.
This could have been just like the old days. No, even better. Even in the Division's heyday, they never had the top cop in their back pockets. That oversight had led to their original unraveling.
"It does not need to be that way. Temporary can become permanent given the right circumstances. For instance, if I were to demonstrate that I can make their lives easier politically, the Council will be beside themselves with gratitude."
"Makes sense." The broken faced officer answered. "I don't quite understand what this has to do with us, though."
"He wants our help securing his position." Fiddle answered, which Nadder agreed with. "How?"
"The Council is getting dragged over the coals by the media over two cases: The Dust shop robbery and those apartment complex murders. We know who is behind the robbery. Unfortunately, we have little hope of bringing down the White Fang when the Atlas military cannot do so."
"But the murders are different."
"Indeed. Our prime suspect, one Leroy Browne, is a single man who is very capturable. We had him in custody previously. All I ask is that you locate him and ensure we can hang this case around his neck." He gave them a pointed look. "By any means necessary."
Reading between the lines, it sure sounded like Nadder wanted them to find cause to send Browne away for good. That would not be too difficult to arrange. They almost had him singing like a bird until a certain detective arrived. Shoat would not be around this time to stop them.
"What about the theory that he was a White Fanger?" Piper pushed.
"Even better. Proving that would demonstrate we can make progress on two fronts. Should the evidence happen to fall in your laps, of course."
Another simple procedure. They were sure to find terrorist paraphernalia on the animal. And if Browne were too smart for that, a quick trip to the evidence locker would net them a White Fang mask that they could conveniently find.
"I'm hearing a lot of benefits for you." Fiddle tapped the chair while considering the walls of the office. "What about us? What do we get out of this?"
"A rising tide lifts all boats."
"What's that mean?"
"Helping me helps you. Tell me, over your illustrious careers, how many times have you put in the paperwork for advancement only to be declined?" Before either could speak, the answer was provided for them. "Twenty-seven times in total. Trust me. I checked."
Both officers scowled. Having the number laid out like that was irritating. Doubly so by the guy who had lucked out in avoiding the investigations that had sunk their career prospects.
While the notes in their files could not get them fired, it did keep them from ever being considered for a detective's shield or above. All they could hope for was a decent pension and a watch in ten more years. Not exactly something that had them eager to do a decent job.
"You're saying-"
"Should you succeed in your task, the next time will go much differently."
The two partners shared a look. Piper nodded. Fiddle felt a surge of enthusiasm.
"Will it just be the two of us?"
"You two are all the manpower I can spare. The rest of the Gang's Unit, along with the Robbery and Explosives Units, are a part of the White Fang Task Force. You may, within reason, requisition any equipment or lab techs."
Despite the extra leg work, keeping the group small was probably for the best. Convincing other unit members to go along without cutting them in on the reward would be difficult. There would also be no on-the-rag sergeants bossing them around.
Always a plus.
"Sounds like we have a deal."
"Excellent. I am entrusting you with a lot of autonomy on this matter. I know you won't let me down."
Those last words were said as encouragement. They also doubled as a threat. To keep with the analogy, a falling tide could crash a ship.
They stood and shook the new Commissioner's hand. The pact was confirmed. Now Piper and Fiddle needed to deliver the goods. All of their attention would be on tracking down a degenerate faunus and bringing him to justice.
Towards the exit, Piper turned back around. "Oh, sir. I don't mean to keep bugging you, but have you done anything about-"
"I'm taking care of it." Nadder said, not bothering to look up from the papers on his desk. "Focus on your task. I'll handle our mutual acquaintance."
As they were leaving, Fiddle asked Piper. "What was that about?"
"Confirmation that an annoying ponce is about to get everything he deserves."
/ / /
It was half-past noon when the man came around. Perry was too busy devouring a veggie wrap to take heed. He had also been distracted by the easy company of his peers as they hung out in an alley.
The other brickyard workers had been commiserating about their uptight boss. They had tried to negotiate for another bathroom break or, at the very least, a five-minute increase to their existing breaks. When that was denied, some had been making rumblings of leaving.
Everyone knew they would not quit. They all needed the money and there were not a lot of places that hired faunus workers like them without an education. Still, it was fun for all of them to let off steam. A special camaraderie was built this way.
This fellowship did not last long after he appeared. They scattered like a herd from a predator. Perry was knocked over by the stampede. His overly large, round glasses were knocked off.
When he got them back on, Perry found that he was left behind with a strange human. He was shorter than average, but sturdy with reddish skin and curly moss colored hair. His verde eyes settled on the sole remaining faunus.
"Perry, I presume?"
"Yes." Was choked out.
"Smart man. Most like to pretend they are someone else when I call them out."
He stalked forward. Perry retreated at the same pace. His floppy ears fluttered as he backed away. "C-can I help you?"
"Courteous too." The unknown man pushed into Perry's personal space. "Do you know who I am?"
"No."
"Call me Tommy. That's not as important as what I do, but I like to be cordial."
"What do…" Perry gulped. "What do you do?"
"A good question! You see, I am what they call a 'collector.' Legitimate businessmen send me to recover debts for outstanding accounts. Yours happens to be one of them."
The faunus' mind turned over, trying to think of who he owed money. Tommy's stressor of 'legitimate' made him think of the opposite. There was only one group he had taken money from recently.
"Is this about the personal loan?"
"See, you are a smart one."
Perry's work hours had been temporarily cut back, decreasing his pay. He had a hard time making rent, so he was forced to seek an alternate monetary source. None of the banks would spot him the lien he needed, so he went to a local gang.
It had been easy enough to make contact. A couple of his co-workers had put him in touch with the High Fly Flows. That was probably how they all knew to high tail it when Tommy arrived.
The Flow's payback structure and interest rates were steep but fair. It was divided into monthly installments that Perry had no doubt he could make. Once work picked back up, he could even settle everything early at no penalty.
Which was why this conversation was so confusing.
"But I still have a full year to make good."
"Well, now you've got less than a day. They are going to need all that moolah back."
"I don't have that kind of money!" If he did, he would not have taken the loan.
"Come on, smart guy. I'm sure you could come up with something."
"I'm telling you, there is no way!"
The faunus trembled as Tommy leaned in. "That's not gonna work for me, Perry. I have a hundred percent retrieval rate when it comes to collecting. It is something I tell all my clients. Do you really want to make me a liar?"
A crunch to their right got the intimidating presence to bow back. Perry took the moment to still his heartbeat. Then he turned his head to see what had distracted the collector.
At the other end of the alley was another man. This one was tall and stacked. He wore a crisp suit and shades. His advancement on them made Perry even more tense. Tommy was not intimidated at all.
In fact, he was elated.
"Leroy! As I live and breathe! What are you doing out here?"
"Looking for you." The giant said in a soft voice that carried. "Wasn't too hard. I asked around the docks for the meanest looking Vacuan any of them had ever seen. They sent me here."
"Flatterer. Not that I don't enjoy catching up, but I am in the middle of something."
Perry tried to use the distraction to his advantage. He slipped around the collector to run away. Before he could get far, something jabbed into his back. A full spasm went through his body. His legs turned to jelly.
Before he could fall over, strong arms grabbed him. Leroy held Perry up like a toddler, examining him. Slitted irises were shown behind the shades.
"I noticed."
Hope that his fellow faunus might help him turned to ash. He was handed back to Tommy. The captive was taken by the collar bone and held flush against a wall. With the full body weakness Perry was experiencing, only one hand was needed to keep him in place.
His jaw did not feel connected to the rest of his body as he slurred out a question. "Whad ya due to meh?"
"That's the aftereffects of Señor Zap. Kind of fun, right? Sometimes I do it to myself just to feel those tingles."
A device was held up to eye level. It was dark blue and shaped like a sword handle, except there was no blade. Instead, there were two metal bits. Tommy made a show of pressing a button. An arc of electricity went between the prongs.
"Kant fell ma libs."
"Probably better that way for what comes next." Tommy put away the gizmo. "Now, people like to throw about words like 'torture' to describe what I do. From a certain point of view, they would be correct. I like using extreme physical coercion."
From his pocket, he pulled out a white stick. It was a raw bamboo shoot. He waved the sliced sprout before Perry's face.
"But let's say, for arguments sake, that you passionately believe that 'torture does not work.' That you cannot force someone into a mindset of compliance. Such a worldview makes a presupposition. Can you tell me what that would be in this case?"
"Whab?"
"That would be in assuming that the person doing the torturing particularly cares about compliance. There are a myriad of reasons why they might, say, rip the nails off another person other than for information extraction."
The shoot was lowered out of their shared line of sight. Perry could not follow. He began to sweat as something prodded his fingers. He was aware of a sharp pressure, but the appendage was too dulled to fully make it out.
"The list is long. They could be sending a message to their enemies. Maybe they are trying to demonstrate to their bosses that they did everything they could to carry out an order. Or perhaps they just like hurting people. Which do you believe is true of me?"
All of those sounded plausible. Especially the last one. The loquacious psychopath's green eyes were dilated.
Leroy made himself known again. "This going to take much longer?"
"Could go all day." Was the simpering response.
"This is about money, right? How much?" Tommy got on his toes to whisper in his ear. Leroy gave him a flat look. "You're going to pull out fingernails over peanuts?"
"Times are tough. It's a down market for my employer."
"Must be." Leroy brought out a wallet.
From inside, he pulled out a red card to hand over to Tommy. The brute exchanged the bamboo for it. He started flipping the lien around his knuckles like a poker chip.
"You're going to pay off his debt?"
"I'm paying for your time. There's a job I could use you on. Fits in well with your talents, such as they are. Do well and there will be plenty more where that came from."
"Well, why didn't you say so!" The grip on Perry loosened.
The faunus slipped to the ground on useless legs. Tingling muscles made standing impossible. He was not sure if this was a lingering effect from getting zapped or just plain fear.
"Wha-Huh?" Definitely fear.
"The words you are looking for are, 'thank you Mr. Browne' and 'I will pay my debts, sir, to avoid scary men with stun guns.'" Tommy chided.
"Y-yeah." Perry nodded helplessly.
"Still not hearing those words."
"T-thank you Mr. Browne! I will pay my debts!"
"Good." Browne nodded before saying to Tommy. "Let's go."
"I don't know. He left out the part about me and Señor Zap. Making sure my lessons stick is important."
"Tommy…"
"Fine, fine."
They were far down the sidewalk when Perry regained full motor control. He would indeed remember this lesson, but for a different reason. Maybe the White Fang were on to something about faunus needing to stick up for each other.