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There was much to do in the coming days, and all of it was dry and menial - or worse.
First came properly processing what her family had left, after their… Losses, and Atlas' forces staking a claim to what they deemed to be theirs after rescuing Weiss and Pyrrha. In total, they'd had what amounted to approximately eight hundred pounds of Dust between their ships' engines and salvage, but all that had gone to the NAN's own engines and reserves as thanks for their rescue. Four hundred pounds of medium grade metal had also been recovered, along with several Dust Cores, but the latter had been claimed under the Uplift Protocols. And the former had only been worth around a thousand Lien-Credits. Only five books had survived the crash, fires and fighting all, but those at least had been worth another thousand themselves, thanks to an old book by a Lewis Carrol which, apparently, had someone who'd left a bounty on intact copies.
Half of both these finds only brought them to a thousand credits…
"Two ships…" She murmured, leaning on the metal-framed edge of the bathroom sink of the funeral house. "Two ships, my entire family, and all our LCs… And all I get is a thousand credits."
"Not counting your eye?" Her guest asked, leaning against the edge of the door-frame a foot or so behind her. Her eye was still bandaged, so soon after the procedure, but the dirty old mirror was just wide enough to let Weiss see the woman with her intact eye.
Pyrrha was just as tall, lean and powerful looking as she always had done. And, although now she was dressed in a short, fitted skirt, stockings, and a black dress-coat that hung down past her hips over a dull grey shirt, she still looked as dangerous as ever. At least to Weiss. The scar along the bottom of her chin, faint but something Weiss knew well after so long knowing her, and the way she wore her hair tied back in a bun spoke of someone ready to fight at a moment's notice.
She was more than just grateful for the powerful woman's support now, of all times.
And more than aware of the stab of jealousy that persisted at the back of her mind, looking at the woman…
She shook the thoughts off and refocused with a splash of sterile-smelling water on her face, or at least the bare part, and turned to frown, "Not really. After losing an eye more in a Green-Zone, I'm not feeling very charitable."
"Green only means low-risk," Pyrrha frowned gently, "not no-risk."
"I know, but…" Weiss sighed, shaking her head and turning to put on her lipstick. Quietly, she said, "That was at least a Yellow-Zone level attack… At least."
"True…" The other woman sighed, flicking the door a wary look. Weiss understood it, but they both knew how unlikely it was Ironwood would have someone minding them - or at least, someone that would be allowed to do anything about her just being upset. Still eyeing the door, Pyrrha went on, "Someone brought them to us, though… Has the NAN said who?"
"New Atlas' Navy has no idea who flew through our space, unfortunately. They only turned an eye on that sector when our beacon lit up." Weiss sighed, straightening the braid along her back and turning to her. "Why?"
"Because I don't believe in coincidences." The woman answered evasively, "Especially not when I'm working for you."
"My luck isn't that bad…"
"First, yes it is." Pyrrha countered, smirking almost playfully in the face of everything. When Weiss rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over a black suit the same style as her own, the woman sighed and shrugged. "Second… I meant working for a Schnee."
"Oh…"
"I know you're different, or I wouldn't be here." Pyrrha rushed to add, pursing her lips when Weiss felt her shoulders stiffen at the words - and the lingering anxiety they brought to the fore. Ignoring it, she said, "I mostly meant your family and their… Less than savory business practices."
Weiss couldn't really argue the point… Even if it had been a few years since they had the wealth needed to hire crew, the way her father and grandfather had run through casualties on drops lingered on their name. Like a black mark on their record. Or a bad scar, written across their faces in angry pink and reds that reminded everyone that saw them what they'd done.
How they'd failed…
"Is your eye hurting?" Weiss blinked and realised she'd reached up to touch her face, fingers tracing a line down where she could feel the furrow in her skin from her scar. When she turned, Pyrrha was standing closer, one hand hovering over the pocket of her coat where Weiss' pain meds were.
They were powerful, made her head feel fuzzy, and, most pressingly, were hellishly addictive, too, so Weiss had her keeping a hold on them when they were out.
An addict she would not be…
"I was just thinking." Weiss finally answered, brushing past Pyrrha and out the door. "Come. We're behind."
Pyrrha didn't answer her but, after a moment, Weiss could pick out her echoing heels behind her. At least, while they were in the quieter, office-filled upper floor of the funeral home.
In the old days, she knew these were more infrequently used, faux-warm places. Warm halls, mourning rooms, places for corpses to be put on display for oh-so-fond farewells… She'd read about all of that in history class, studying old-world culture. She'd found much of it droll and dry, and only stuck through the lessons to earn her licensing and meet her father's demands. But some had been fascinating, truly. The images they had of old places, 'chapels', where people prayed to the gods and buried their dead was… Fascinating, culturally.
Some aspects of these old beliefs persisted, such as the preacher that met her outside the funerary room.
But most had… Been set aside, or lost to history, ever since the ascension of the flying fortresses that mankind called home.
Now, they only had a small room, with a raised dais for her and the preacher, and two rows of old, wooden seats to sit in. In the center of the raised dais was a large cylinder, where the ashes of a cremated loved one would normally rest. It was just a bit taller than Weiss, with a square block on top of a long, glass tube that ran into the ground where heavy bolts and a metal bracket met it, with a rug that ran out from under it to cover the dais. Inside was a glass jar with an open bottom that would, at the press of a button, drop below the facility and into the open air, releasing those ashes before returning to be wind-blasted clean and reused.
Now it sat empty, though.
They'd had no bodies…
Ironwood came to the ceremony, a sign of respect for her grandfather, and Pyrrha sat beside him. But they were the only ones there while Weiss listened to the priest's short, weary sounding and clearly thoroughly rehearsed speech about death and sacrifice and the glory of the Twin-Gods. She only half-listened, having never been particularly faithful herself, and, when he backed away to give her space, she reached out to press the simple silver button on the side of the mechanism. It dropped the glass with a chime, then retracted the wire back up, into the block on top of it. And just like that…
It was over.
"Are you alright?" Pyrrha asked as she and Ironwood met her at the simple, wooden door out of the room.
"Don't we need to go?" Weiss evaded, "The next group-"
"Will wait." Ironwood grunted shortly, "We have business, after all."
"Business…?"
"The Schnee Distribution Company lost its fleet and most of its drones, and had precious little in the way of credit with them gone." Ironwood explained quietly, frowning and clasping his hands behind his waist. "Your warehouses were going to be foreclosed and, as such, I seized them."
"You… You what?"
"I seized the SDC's personal warehouses." Ironwood reiterated, frowning gravely and moving to add, before Weiss could do more than blink and feel the panic start to creep into her chest. "And liquidated most of the assets within."
"Liquidated most…" Weiss murmured, mind racing as Pyrrha snapped.
"What?" The redhead barked, "What gave you the right to-"
"They were already being foreclosed." The General cut her off, scowling deeply enough that Pyrrha backed up a step. Weiss flicked her a look, still thinking, and hummed. Even she was intimidated by the power of the Atlesian General in Chief, who went on before either could respond. "It's better that what little was in those warehouses be put to use for New Atlas' interests rather than bank-men's pockets, isn't it?"
"I suppose, but-"
"Most."
"What…?" Pyrrha turned to Weiss, brows knitting as she frowned and repeated the word. "Most…"
"He said he liquidated most of the SDC's assets…" Weiss repeated again, pursing her lips and turning to meet the man's gaze. It flattened, eyes narrowing a bit as he ducked his head ever so slightly - a silent cue, she hoped, to keep going. "You set some aside, didn't you? For me, and for the SDC, too. Didn't you, General?"
"The SDC is now defunct, foreclosed upon and declared bankrupt, allowing my seizure as part of the Legatus Initiative." Ironwood answered quietly, fishing a pair of envelopes out of a pocket on the inside of his heavy military coat and handing one to her. "I purchased your ship myself, from the banks after they foreclosed on your family's debts. This is the deed, signed and litigated properly."
"But, I never paid you for it…"
"And this," he offered her the other bill, "is a contract."
"A contract…?"
"One which recognizes you as the head of the SRC - the Schnee Reclamation Corporation." Ironwood explained, smiling faintly when her gaze snapped up to his. Smile widening just the tiniest hair, he said, "It awaits your signature. But, should you sign, you must understand that while I will transfer your ship, its complement of drones, and even Miss Nikos' remaining contract, which the bank has not closed as of yet-"
"They haven't…?"
"I was recovering." Pyrrha shrugged, avoiding her gaze and frowning, "And… And I don't have many prospects now, after what happened."
"A-Ah, I see…" Even if it weren't her fault in any real way whatsoever, Pyrrha was their guard and advisor. Failing to predict the events that transpired, as impossible as that would be to do, would make many devalue Pyrrha's abilities. If only to get her more cheaply. Quietly, Weiss said, "I cannot afford to pay the same rates either…"
"I know, but…" Pyrrha shrugged and avoided Weiss' gaze, frowning just the tiniest bit. "I'd prefer to stay under you rather than risk myself with a new, untested client, Weiss."
Smiling, Weiss bowed her head, "Thank you…"
"It's just a job." Pyrrha rushed to point out, "Don't-"
"I know." Weiss cut her off, turning to stare at the tall dispensary that had, as much as was possible, carried her family to its rest. "But… Well, I've lost everything else. Everyone else, really, I suppose. So… I'm happy, at least, that I can still have you in my life."
"I-I s-see…" Weiss turned back as Pyrrha turned to the General, clearing her throat and grunting, quietly, "R-Right, then. What does my contract read as?"
"Six months, seven days left in service." Ironwood answered simply, "With a severance contract pay of precisely five hundred thousand Lien-Credits. Presuming that, once I leave, you both sign."
"Half a million…" Weiss murmured, swallowing a ball of anxiety. Still, she only nodded and opened the envelope. Inside, printed on a simple white page with the stamp of the General's Seat on the corner, was a contract that read exactly as Ironwood had described. And, at the bottom, three signature's - one of which was filled, for the witness, Ironwood himself.
"That's too much…" Pyrrha murmured, "General-"
"Even with your black mark, you are still a Huntress of high caliber, prestige, and ranked as B." Ironwood cut her off, flicking the woman a look and sighing. "I will bend the laws when I think it will benefit Humanity. I will not break them, however."
"Then I re-"
"Do you have a pen, General?"
"What?" Pyrrha grunted, turning to her, "Weiss, no- You can't afford that rate."
"Then in six months, I will be foreclosed on and meet the fate forestalled for me." Weiss nodded, dread and certainty settling onto her shoulders as she met Ironwood's gaze and held it until he nodded and reached into another pocket of his coat. Chuckling as she took the ivory-white pen he offered her, she signed her name and shook her head, handing it to Pyrrha and saying, "But seriously, General… The 'Reclamation Corp'? Your sense of humor is very dark…"
"Think of it as a warning," Ironwood murmured, watching Pyrrha sign her name and then taking the paper back with a nod, "for what may come if you face foreclosure and fail the Huntress exam. I won't be able to save you after."
"I won't forget it." Weiss nodded, "And… I won't fail."
"Nor will I."
"Good." Ironwood nodded, tapping his breast pocket and grunting as he turned to leave. "You'll find your first assignment from the NAN on your Scroll, Miss Schnee, and I wish you luck."
Weiss watched him leave and took a long, deep breath to steady herself. Looking at the deed to her ship, she smiled and asked, "So… You're sure you prefer staying with me, Pyrrha?"
"Of course." The woman answered, resting a hand on her shoulder and frowning thinly as she turned to lead Weiss out of the funerary room. "Now come. We should eat… And make certain your ship and drones are prepared for work, when you're healed."
"We can't afford to wait." Weiss argued as they stepped out and into the hall. Pyrrha shot her a look and Weiss explained, "We leave tomorrow, presuming all my gear is prepared and the operation should only need one combatant."
"If you're certain…"
Of course she wasn't - she was half-blind. But she nodded regardless, forced a smile, and said, "We have work to do, Pyrrha, and not as much time as I would prefer to do it. Wasting time waiting for something so petty as one of my eyes would be foolish."
Pyrrha only sighed, and Weiss took is as all the consent she was likely to get and moved on, already running through her ship's detailing, trying to make sure everything would be in order. She wouldn't get a third chance, after all…
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So, out of curiosity, would people like me to do ANs to explain vague legal stuff being referenced going forward, or would ou all rather theorize on it yourselves? I'm happy either way.
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Astute Guest :
Treasure Planet IS part of my design inspirations, some of which you may be able to see in this very chapter. Not ship wise, sure, but more in how everything is handled. Paperwork, legalese, signing, and the funerary room's design.
Ander Warrior :
Believe it or not, after you and a few in my server asking such, I bought the audiobook and listened to Helldivers for the first time. So while no, it isn't, I… See where you're coming from, lol.
