Here we—

Oh wait.

No updates from 20th Dec to 3rd Jan. Gonna keep repeating it.

Cover Art: Kirire

Chapter 82

Blake hated this.

There was no point saying it out loud because she knew Jaune hated it too. The only ones happy with this arrangement were the Albain brothers and, to a lesser extent, the anomalies that would be leaving with them. They were currently piling onto a cargo ship that the White Fang had been planning to use to steal dust from the docks, before Adam got killed and Cinder got withcalled by Salem. All those plans were less than dust now, so the ship had shrugged off its illegal mission and just docked normally. Now, it had a fresh new illegal mission, except that she and Jaune were overseeing it and making sure it went off without a hitch.

"Do we have some kind of plan?"

Jaune, arms crossed, regarded her. "What do you mean?"

"A double cross. A trick. Are we sinking the ship? Calling in reinforcements? Staging a coup?"

He sighed. "None of the above."

"Then we're just… letting them get away with this?"

"Unless you have any better ideas, yes. And I mean ideas that don't involve us attacking a ship filled with over three hundred people and killing them all," he added, since that was the obvious plan. Not a good one but present all the same.

Blake didn't have a better one in mind.

"It's just not right to be helping them."

"It's not," he agreed, "but these are the consequences of our own actions. Or mine. I let the anomalies live here peacefully and some of them decided to betray my goodwill. Now, we have to deal with that. It's mostly my fault."

"Don't say that. I'd have wanted to do right by the peaceful anomalies as well."

Jaune hummed. It was obvious the rebellion was hurting him, and not just in the sense of making them help the White Fang or running the risk of their being discovered by ARC Corp. It was hurting him in that he'd genuinely thought he was doing good by these people, that he was helping them, that he was the one person on Remnant who cared to go out his way to give these intelligent anomalies a safe place to call their own.

And they'd taken up arms and called him an oppressor.

These anomalies may have styled themselves like the White Fang, but they were nothing like them. As extreme as Adam and her had been, at least their anger made sense. The SDC had done all the awful things they accused them of. Jaune hadn't. These anomalies simply hadn't been happy with what he could give them and blamed him for it, ignoring the fact that he didn't have the power to offer more.

Entitled fools.

But, she supposed, it was to be expected. Children were taught by their parents to be humble, and those without parents picked up the knowledge from the school that was life. Most of these anomalies didn't have years of experience to draw on, hence why they were so easily manipulated by the Albain brothers.

"So, this is it," she said. "We just… let them go…"

"They're not our problem anymore."

"I don't think we can just brush the responsibility off when we're handing them to terrorists. They're going to become our responsibility in the future."

"Nothing of the sort, Blake." Corsac Albain approached from behind, his smug smile contrasting with his humble posture. He always liked to portray an almost religious figure with his hands clasped together and his face bowed. "We won't be returning to Vale to cause you problems."

Blake turned, with her lips tugged down. "Am I supposed to take you at your word?"

"You can take me at common sense if my word isn't enough. We have made a deal here this day, and it will resonate among the anomalous community. That serves our cause. To go back on that and harm you will only paint us as untrustworthy in the eyes of potential future recruits. That would be self-defeating."

That pissed her off even more! Blake gritted her teeth and made to step forward, but Jaune held an arm across her chest and said, "I'll thank you not to incite my employee to violence, Albain."

Corsac smirked. "My apologies. But I do not believe she needs much incitement, as poor Adam found out. Either way, while we will be seeking to use anomalies in our terroristic duties, I'll assure you that they won't be used in the kingdom of Vale. Our agreement is one of mutually assured destruction after all, and either of us could expose the other and bring ruin to both parties. It's in our best interests to remain on… calm terms."

Not friendly. Blake would have lunged for him if he said it.

"In addition, there's always the chance of potentially dangerous anomalies that we cannot deal with appearing on Menagerie," he said, "and having any other members of your family investigating could cause us trouble."

Meaning that the Containments Office would almost have to respond, because if the Fist Office went and found the anomalies and then questioned the White Fang, well, they'd find out about the deal that had been struck. The Albain were practically forcing them to do work on Menagerie as well as Vale. Jaune didn't like it either, but there was no way out of it.

"We'll respond if needs be, but don't push your luck," he said. "My patience isn't endless."

Corsac held up his hands, palms outward. "Now, now, I came to make good relations here, not to insult. A benefit of our arrangement is that Blake will be welcome home no matter what she has done to Adam and our people. That's a good thing, no? Free to visit her parents and assured that we won't be harming them. You're also welcome to offload any particularly violent or problematic anomalies on us if you can't contain them."

"We don't rehome anomalies."

"Of course. Of course. I'm referring to any intelligent and humanoid anomalies that refuse to play by your rules—"

"We'll think about it," said Jaune, but Blake could tell from the coldness of his voice that those who stayed behind would be living under stricter terms. Jaune had tried the nice approach and had been burned. Now, they would be less forgiving. If someone refused to play by the rules, she had the feeling they'd be killing them rather than handing them over to the White Fang.

The problem was that the other anomalies would know that, and now she had to wonder if Coda – sympathetic to her fellow anomalies – might not help smuggle them out. Or if Alistair and the others wouldn't quietly tell the person that if they did want to leave, they should do it quickly and without waiting for the Containments Office to find out. It'd be subtle things. Untraceable things. Simply put, the status quo had changed, and the news would spread among the community.

Blowing up that ship and killing everyone on board looked more and more promising.

Adam would have done it without hesitation.

Which was why she couldn't. Most of the people on there probably didn't even know what was going on. They'd just be sailors and crew from Menagerie told they were taking a transport to and from Vale. They wouldn't all be White Fang, and even if they were that didn't mean they deserved to die because she and Jaune couldn't keep their city in order.

"You should go," Jaune told the terrorist. "Before I decide I might be better off eradicating every anomaly in Vale and writing up a report that the White Fang had been harbouring them."

Corsac simply smiled. "I wouldn't be putting myself at risk in front of you if we didn't have contingency plans of our own. If any of us die here, the knowledge of our meeting will spread across Menagerie and, later, the world. But I'll heed your words regardless." He bowed and backed away. "Please enjoy your brooding while we see to welcoming our new brothers and sisters to their home. Rest assured that we shall give them good lives with the freedoms you were unable to."

Jaune clicked Crocea Mors out its sheath just enough to make white light shine and cause Corsac to wince and back away. It was punishment as well as a threat, and the faunus rubbed at his eyes, walking away mumbling about them being rude. Jaune sheathed his weapon again with another click, and rubbed at the tiny patch of pink on his neck where the light had already burned his skin.

"There has to be some way we can get back at them," Blake grumbled.

"Leave it. Our best hope is that they stick to their deal and take these anomalies off our hands. The White Fang really aren't our problem."

"What if they're caught later using anomalies?"

"Then they become ARC Coro's problem – but, specifically, the problem of whichever office's territory they're operating within. And it's not like Saphron will take prisoners to interrogate. They'll kill first, ignore the fact the questions ever existed, and call it a job well done." He let out an annoyed sigh. "And don't think of this as us winning or losing. Our mission statement is to keep the peace and to keep the people of our chosen territory safe from anomalies. We're doing just that. These people won't be a problem for the people of Vale anymore."

That was one way to look at it, and Blake watched glumly as the last of the anomalies and terrorists boarded the ship and it slowly pulled away from the dock. Everything was legal, at least as far as these things went, so no one would question them leaving so soon after arriving. Blake watched, and waited, and vaguely hoped for an explosion to wrack the ship. Some last trick up Jaune's sleeve or backhanded arrangement he'd made.

There was nothing.

And despite what Jaune had said, it still felt like a loss on their part.

/-/

Alistair's wasn't quiet when they arrived but it sure did go that way quickly. Every conversation stopped, and Blake knew instantly that they knew what had happened. The authority of the Containments Office had been challenged, and the challengers had gotten away with it. Sure, they had been forced into effective exile, but it was an exile of their choosing.

ARC Corp was no longer as invincible as it had been.

Jaune needed to address that.

"Let me make one thing clear to you all," he said, picking an odd place to start. "Those who have left us today might think of it as a victory. That's what they'll call it. But they're sacrificing the freedom and autonomy I offered to serve as shock troops in someone else's army. They are idiots who are going to be used and abused and who will be sent to the frontlines to die."

Several chairs creaked as people adjusted their positions. Heads were dipped, and eyes averted, and yet it was impossible to tell how much of that was them believing Jaune, and how many were choosing to ignore him.

"Some of you that remain might get it in your heads that it's a good life for you as well. Fine. But keep in mind that option was always there. I told you that you're free to leave Vale whenever and however you want. If you want to take your chances in the world, go for it. Walk out the gates. Survive." Jaune let his hand rest on Crocea Mors and drew it enough to send out a flash of hot light that had everyone in the bar hissing and covering their faces. "But if you do decide that, then don't make it everyone else's problem!" Jaune roared. "Do the right thing and leave the city without bombing an airport or threatening the safety of every anomaly who lives here peacefully and doesn't want to put up with your bullshit!"

"Henceforth, there is a new rule," he said. There were angry looks sent his way, but Jaune met each one of them. "It's a simple one. Any anomaly that willingly engages in terrorist activity within Vale will be executed immediately. No second chances. No excuses. I don't care if they're new and don't know better, or if it was because you had some noble reason. Any needless violence will result in immediate extermination. Am I understood?"

Silence.

Jaune's hand wrapped around his sword again. "AM I UNDERSTOOD?"

There was a loud response in agreement. Some "yes", some "yeah" and a lot more of them angry but agreeing mumbles from anomalies who weren't happy to find themselves with a fresh noose around their necks but who knew better than to argue.

"Good. I did my best to be kind to you all, and this is where that has led me. I realise it's not the fault of a lot of you, but that won't matter if the rest of ARC Corp finds out. You will all die. Every single one of you." Jaune sighed, adding, "I am not your enemy, but I'll become that if I must. Don't test me. And don't think today's actions mean I'm weak, or you'll be in for a rude awakening." He turned. "Blake. It's time for us to leave."

Blake nodded and held the doorway open for him, letting him walk out through the illusion of a brick wall with her following. The empty alleyway was cold, but Jaune was colder. As they walked away, he whispered to her.

"There's going to be pushback."

"You think?"

"We look weak for giving into the White Fang and they know the act back there was to address it. Someone is going to test that. And we're going to have to make an example of them. Show the rest of them that we're deadly serious. I give it a day or two at most."

"What about your family?"

"We'll tell them the White Fang have been driven out of Vale. It's not untrue. I expect Saphron will hold a grudge when she recovers, and the White Fang will have a hard time of things in and around Mistral. Life will go on."

Blake hoped so.

/-/

It was honestly obnoxious how quickly Vale moved on from the bombing. The White Fang claimed responsibility as the Albain brothers had promised, and ARC Corp accepted Jaune's report on it. The White Fang publicly saying they did it obviously helped, and it was quickly chalked up as Amber and Saphron being caught in the crossfire. Saphron woke up a day later, and said she remembered nothing as unusual. The bomb must have been in a suitcase.

No one questioned their version of events and Amber was slated to wake up within a day or two and continue her internship in the Fist Office. As Jaune had said, life went on. Vale moved on. For all the talk of the White Fang's evil being avenged, all that really happened was an uptick in violent crimes against faunus, as patriotic humans decided to take out their frustrations on any innocent person with even a passing physical similarity to the ones responsible for the bombings.

Except that they weren't responsible and people were just abusing faunus to make themselves feel better.

Business as usual.

Blake had already faced a few angry shouts herself, though no one dared approach the well-dressed and angry looking faunus. They just accused her from a distance, heckling and telling her to "go back to Menagerie" while surrounded by their friends. It was the little faunus who suffered the most, shop owners suddenly finding themselves faced by idiots with scrolls asking them if they "condemned the violence" like they were somehow involved by virtue of being born the same species as the alleged perpetrators. Most did condemn it, but that didn't help them. It was too easy to see a faunus and err on the side of caution. They probably weren't bad, but they might be. And you never knew, did you? All faunus were alike.

It was nothing she hadn't faced before.

A job or an anomaly to investigate might have broken up the monotony but nothing came. Any intelligent anomaly was smart enough to avoid trouble, and if there were any anomalous objects out there then the news stories that might have clued them in were all being replaced with the latest on the attack, those recovering, and how Vale should respond. The news was dominated with it, making the job of sifting through it to find clues of the anomalous an almost impossible task.

And worse, the one job she had been called out to because someone got in touch with them turned out to be an easily determined scam. A case of a man online milking his fans for donations because he had a "terminal illness" which miraculously got cured. It flagged up to them because of the anomalous nature of the cure and the fact that his medical records did show the disease, but it only took her about two hours of questioning the doctors to find out that the medical records were faked and the man was abusing his audience. Even if that wasn't any of her business, she still reported him to the police.

It hadn't cheered her up much.

At this point, she wasn't sure what would please her. The White Fang spontaneously combusting? It wouldn't even be good if their arrogance came back to bite them because the anomalies were on Menagerie and any danger there might reach her parents.

"You need to stop pacing," said Jaune, sat behind his desk as usual. "There's nothing we can do to change what has already happened. Stop worrying about it."

"How can you say that? A lot of the anger against faunus is because of us. We lied and said the White Fang did it, and now people are suffering."

"They wouldn't have suffered any less if we let the truth get out. Or do you want everyone flying into a mad panic once they realise dust is made of people fed to a monster, or that aura is a parasite eating away at people's souls from the inside?"

"I know that! But… It's just… We should be able to do something about this."

"In an ideal world, we would be able to. This isn't an ideal world. This is Remnant. And we have other business to stay on top of, remember? We need these stupid containment facilities my sister brought up in the audit. If we fail to find someone willing to rent us that space, we're going to lose everything we've gathered so far."

Ugh. That. She had forgotten in all honesty, since the whole explosion at the airport kind of took precedence at the time. Walking to his desk, she looked over his shoulder to see him browsing a website for commercial property in the city.

"What's so hard about it? Our budget is literally in the millions. It should be simple."

"Money isn't the issue." Jaune spoke with the experience of someone for whom money had never been an issue. "The problem is finding a place that meets our specifications in one of the busiest cities in the world, and also working out an arrangement where an idiot landlord won't just wander in to take a look around when the need takes him."

"Can't we buy a place?"

Jaune laughed. "We're rich, Blake, but we're not that rich. Do you have any idea how much it costs to actually buy property in the city? Like, not to rent it, but to own a huge tract of land in a walled city safe from the Grimm."

"Millions?"

"Try billions. Better yet, try priceless. Most of the city is owned by the city, and they had to do that because of how exploitative things used to be. The city bought back – forcefully in most cases – buildings and land owned by private investors. There are all sorts of laws against selling land and buildings to try and stop people hoarding it, and the closest you can get is buying a 99-year lease. Even that's only reasonable for private equity firms who pool the many hundreds of millions their clients have to buy one apartment block."

"Our landlord doesn't look that rich."

"Our landlord doesn't actually own the place. He's a hired worker on behalf of the Council, who technically own this apartment block and most of the street."

"Then buy from the council. They have agreements with ARC Corp, don't they? If they won't sell then they'll at least know why they can't just wander into a place that's storing anomalies."

"That's not safe."

Blake sighed. "Why not?"

"Because you might want to remember that the Schnee family's research into human-to-anomaly transformations was funded by a lot of influential and rich people, and that sure as hell isn't going to be the average person on the street."

"You think it's politicians?"

"Them or wealthy businessmen, but businessmen tend to be too busy to mess around with nonsense like this. The clue is in the name. But politicians are power-hungry idiots who will sell their morals for a few votes or a lucrative deal with a lobbying firm, so it wouldn't surprise me if they wanted the secret to unlimited power." Nor would it surprise her. "And while we are nominally aligned with the various governments of Remnant, we can't really predict or control them. We might have reasonable and sensible politicians for fifty years but it only takes one absolute moron who decides he knows best and wants to crack open the vault of juicy anomalous artefacts, and all of our work is suddenly undone. And ARC Corp gets a good reason to say containment is a flawed premise and every anomaly must be destroyed."

Because they were always looking for that reason. Blake sighed. The current political party in Vale were moderate from what little she cared to know, but he was right that it could change. Democracy was great when it worked but sometimes it meant the person voted in got into that position because they were popular rather than any good at it.

There had actually been a case in Vacuo where a famous popstar had been voted in by her fans and had caused a recession in under a year in office before being ousted and arrested for fraud. She'd never experienced it, but she remembered it being all over the news even in Menagerie when she was younger because it had been such a crazy story. And there was nothing the news in Menagerie liked more than a chance to point and laugh at those racist human kingdoms.

One bad case like that and they could take over their anomalies if they rented space from the council, making it a ticking timebomb and a constant liability. Blake sighed and dragged a chair of her own over to look through the pages with him.

Saphron's demands for the containment cells were deliberately strict, that much was obvious, and it made finding the right place close to impossible. It was quickly obvious that they'd need to rent somewhere and then pay to have it done up themselves, because it wasn't like rooms of solid steel to these specifications were commonplace. Not outside of zombie movies where infected creatures were being kept before their inevitable outbreak and infestation of the world. Vale, sadly, was mostly filled with old factory buildings and tiny warehouses.

And those honestly looked like their best bet. Rows of small garage-door buildings like storage units, each with bright red doors. It was so far from what the idea of a shady government containment facility should be that it was ridiculous, and yet there was no denying these storage units fit the idea of being the same size and shape, and each one being locked by a single door.

"They'll need a lot of work to build them up to what Saphron wants, but it is a private company."

"There's no way your sister accepts this. We're talking about renting storage lots and dumping potentially mind-altering items into them."

"No one would expect it." He smiled sarcastically. "It's the perfect disguise."

Blake slapped a hand to her face. "Jaune, she'll be spitting man."

"Yeah, but I'm hoping she'll be so spitting mad at the White Fang that she'll forget about the audit and not check up on us. I mean, we almost forgot about it and we weren't the ones who nearly got killed. I don't imagine it'll be the first thing on her mind." He pointed to the screen. "Also, while it looks ridiculous, we can still do a lot of extra reinforcement on the inside. Make them stronger. It doesn't really matter what they look like from the outside, as long as the anomalies within are kept secure."

"We're going to get screamed at."

"I'll give them a call," said Jaune, ignoring her. "Arrange for us to visit."

"Great. I'll get started on our eulogies."

/-/

The man that met them at the storage lockers was everything Blake expected him to be. Overweight, hairy, dirty, and obnoxiously loud. He talked like he was having to shout over ten people except there was no one but them there, in a chain-linked, fenced-off area where loads of garage-sized lockers built into brick buildings lay.

"Simple affair," he explained, talking to Jaune but maintaining eye contact with Blake's cleavage. The fact she had none since her white shirt was buttoned up to her collar didn't stop the man. "You can rent each one on their own and it's a monthly payment. You fail to pay, the unit is locked, and you don't get the contents back until you pay all missing months and the current."

"Can we make modifications to the units?"

"Long as you don't damage them or try and move them, sure, but anything permanent will belong to the company once you're gone. We ain't paying you back for anything you do, and costs will be charged if we have to remove it all."

"How many people could theoretically access our units?"

"You and us, and the police if they present a search warrant from a judge. Got to keep that in or we'd have people storing dead bodies with us. Speaking of, there's no biological waste allowed. It's in the rules. I can go over them with your assistant in my office while you look around if you like."

Jaune shot her a look, and she stared back, promising she'd kill him if he agreed.

"I think we'll be fine to go over those in our own time, thank you. We'd mostly be looking to install some extra defences into the units. Nothing lethal or dangerous. I'm talking about additional reinforcement of the walls and a second doorway to keep people out. Would that be acceptable?"

"Long as you know the police would still try and break their way in if they had a warrant." The man finally broke eye contact with her chest to look at Jaune, this time suspiciously. It seemed to be dawning on him at last that two wealthy and suited people asking about units was strange. "What did you say you people do again?"

"We didn't—"

"Time capsules!" Jaune interrupted with a bright smile. "We work with time capsules."

The man eyed him oddly. "You mean those things kids bury?"

"Yes, but much more industrial in our sense. There's always the risk Vale will be overrun by Grimm and our clients want the assurances that they can leave things with us that will stand the test of time. It's mostly just letters to family, but it can also be deeds to property or bank accounts. That kind of thing."

"Why not store that at a bank?"

"In this city? With Roman Torchwick running around taking from whatever bank he wants?" Jaune gasped. "No, no, no. Our service is second to none and our clients expect confidentiality and security. That's why I'm thinking foot-thick steel plating on the insides and a second door, almost like an airlock. Retinal scans as well as password coded."

It was a ridiculous statement, but they were paying customers and the man wasn't interested enough in what they were really doing to turn them away. His attention went back to what was comfortable. For him, anyway. Blake crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah, sure," he said. "Whatever floats your boat. Long as you're not expecting us to pay for it."

"Excellent. Then we'd like to rent… oh, let's go with twenty for now." That was more than they had anomalies in need of locking away. "We might as well have some extras made up and ready for when we have more time capsules."

"That's gonna be 20,000 a month. And I'd need to see some proof of—"

"I can pay that right now." Jaune swept a suitcase up and opened it with a meaty click. The sound, and the contents, were enough to tear the man's gaze away from her. His eyes widened, and the cheap cigarette slipped out his mouth. "Do we have a deal?"

Over two hundred grand a year was an obnoxious amount to pay for some glorified lockers, but it was still less than she earned, so she supposed their very own facility wasn't so bad. Even if calling some ugly-ass lockers in a place like this a "facility" was an insult. The rows of identical brick squares with corrugated metal doors didn't exactly scream government facility, but maybe they'd fit the bill more once they'd been fortified and done up.

"C—Cash? W—What kind of person pays this much for time capsules!?"

"Eccentric people. I can have a repeating debit arranged to keep paying every month. All I need is some paperwork saying the units are signed over to us…"

"My office. I'll get that done right away, sir! Right now, in fact!"

"See, Blake?" Jaune smiled as the man rushed off. "Our very own containment facility."

"Didn't Coral have her own building and research lab in Atlas? With a team of scientists. Why are we working out a crappy apartment-turned-office and using storage lockers for containing potentially dangerous anomalies?"

"Because my family hates us and hopes we'll fail and die," he replied. "Any other stupid questions?"

"Can I punch this man for staring at my tits the whole time?"

"No."

"Damn it."

"Sadly, we need him on good terms, especially if we're going to be here reinforcing these bad boys." Jaune slammed a fist on the metal door, only for it to rattle and roll upward without a key being inserted into the lock. Two rats scurried out and away, between their feet. "Uhhh."

Blake crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"We may need a little more work on these than I expected."

Next Chapter: 18th December

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