"At that moment, he presented it as closure. Little did I know it was only the beginning." - Blake Belladonna
"Alright, here it is," Violet turned his laptop over to Blake, showing her a series of documents she couldn't quite make sense of. Things like shipping lists, stocks, and price charts, "The SDC has supposedly stopped shipping dust in the wake of the robberies, both on trains and ports. And yet the dust market seems to be doing relatively fine. Now why would that be?"
"I'm guessing you know," Blake replied.
"Maybe, but I'd like to hear if you have any ideas of your own? You did work with them after all."
After a while Blake answered, "The dust is being resold through fencers?"
"They didn't go after the money in the robbery we saw. It's still a possibility though. Either that or it's being imported covertly. It's also possible Vale has large strategic reserves for times like these, but I doubt Atlas would approve of that measure. You know how they can be."
"So what do you propose?"
"We're going to try and follow shipments going into Vale and see if there is dust onboard. If anyone tries to intercept them we'll catch them in the act. In fact, I've got my suspicions on a certain Atlesian ship coming in today. Supposedly transferring mundane chemicals, it just visited a port whose exports are nearly exclusively dust."
"The plan sounds… risky."
Violet smiled, "That's why I have an expert on the matter working with me."
Blake seemed confused, "You mean me?"
"Yes, you. You had experience with such things, right?"
"How did you figure out what I was doing? How do you know so much about me anyway?"
"I have my ways." He said before pulling out his phone and calling Ruby.
"Hello, any sign of Blake? Nothing at all?" he sighed, "I understand. Yes, I checked Beacon. No, I won't give up the search. You should remain in town, find a cafe or something. I'll call you if I find her."
"Are you planning on involving them?" Blake gave him an accusing look.
"Unlikely, but it couldn't hurt to have backup ready. Let's go."
By the time the two of them had reached the Vale docks, it was already getting dark. The day was wrapping up and the workers were leaving. A significant number of security personnel remained, however.
"Now isn't that interesting?" Violet was observing them with binoculars from a rooftop a good distance away. "Must be at least a dozen guards around those shipping containers. Seems pretty well guarded to me."
"It's suspicious. You might be right after all."
"So, Blake... Any chance of sneaking in?"
"Well… It will be hard to search the entire place in secret, you know?"
"But we know where to search, so it just might work. What about following outgoing trucks to figure out if they're going to dust shops?"
"It's doable. But we'd need trackers, and we could be waiting here for days."
Violet chuckled, "I'm not eager to miss so many classes. Sneaking it is then."
With Blake's guidance, they managed to get into the dockyard undetected. He wasn't the best at stealth, but he learned quickly enough. The place was a vast maze of shipping containers, and even with increased security two people could conceivably pass through without detection.
"Those are the ones we're looking for." Violet pointed to an array of shipping containers bearing the logo of the Atlesian shipping company. One of the containers in particular seemed to be protected by two men, who did not move from that position at all. Amateurs.
"You sure you wanna do this, Violet? They could get hurt."
"It's a risk I'm willing to take."
They circled around the spot, finding high ground on a neighboring container. They descended upon the guards from above in unison. Blake expertly knocked one of the men out as she landed, while Violet put his arm on the other man's mouth and a knife to his throat. He whispered to him, "Where is the dust?"
"Dust? What dust, I have no idea what you're talking about." The shaky voice of the man replied.
"Don't play dumb with me." Violet pressed the knife tip directly onto his skin and steadily increased the pressure.
"It- It's behind me. The only container with dust is that one. Now please let me go, I promise I won't tell anyone."
Blake neared the man and knocked him out as well.
Approaching the container, he noticed that it was guarded by a rather large padlock. Blake searched both of the guards, "No keys here." she said.
Violet sighed, "I could break it with my scythe, but that would make a lot of noise. If only we could... Hey, Blake?"
She rolled her eyes, "You think just because I'm a former terrorist I automatically know how to pick locks?"
"Well, do you?"
"Yes."
Violet smirked. The padlock was gone quickly enough, and they opened the shipping container. He cringed at the loud noise the door made, he was still paranoid about being found. But even if they were discovered, they now had a lead and could visually follow its movements. "Well well, would you look at that." Countless boxes bearing the Schnee dust company logo filled the container.
"Must be several tons of dust in there." she was amazed at the sight before her.
"Indeed. Almost makes me wish we could take it with us," he said. Blake glared at him.
"What? It's quite pricy." he went to pick up a small box of fire dust.
"I thought you were a vigilante?"
"That doesn't make me an SDC sympathizer though." Blake really couldn't object to his reasoning. It's not like she liked them either, even if she was technically stealing from her teammate. The thought itself made her feel odd.
Violet pulled out his phone and started texting. He turned to Blake, "We're going now. I told the rest of your team to meet us outside the docks. You'll talk to Weiss now, okay?"
"Huh? I- I'm not ready for that."
"You'll never be ready, just get it over with."
"But-"
They were interrupted by the sound of approaching aircraft rotors. The two of them looked up to see a transport Bullhead approach. The aircraft's engines rotated 90 degrees, and it landed like a helicopter in a small spot clear of obstacles.
The two of them climbed onto high ground to observe the situation. A ramp opened on the craft's back and about 20 masked men spread out. They fired several shots at the security, killing one of the guards and causing the rest to flee.
"Those masks." Blake said, "They resemble the Grimm. Definitely White Fang." She let out a disappointed sigh.
The last man to exit was quite different. Tall, orange hair, no mask, a cape, carrying a cane. "Wait a second, I recognize that guy. He was behind one of the robberies."
"What?"
"I thought he was a human."
"Don't be crazy, the White Fang I know would never work with humans."
"Fair enough. It could be hidden."
"Or cut off. They do that to faunus sometimes, you know."
The men who disembarked immediately started breaking through the various containers and searching them.
"They sure are bold. They're scattering themselves, so we should be able to take some of them out before they become alerted to our presence."
"Huh? You mean to actually fight them?"
"Why not?" he transformed his weapon into its combat configuration, and pointed it at her, "Are you part of the White Fang or not, Blake Belladonna?"
"No, of course not. It's just…" She nodded and pulled out both of her machine pistols.
"I understand, it must be hard. All worthwhile things are. Consider this your penance. So steel yourself, we've got a lot of work ahead of us."
Despite Blake's reluctance, the two of them separated and went their own ways. Violet found an unsuspecting masked man destroying a padlock with a grind saw. He descended upon him and drove the Mordred through his shoulder all the way to the gut. The man barely registered what had happened before dying.
It was a grim thing, killing. Even so, he recognized that it had to be done for a better world. Some people simply didn't deserve to exist. Others were too squeamish to stain their hands, so he had to do it in their place. It was part of why he disliked the huntsmen institutions. In an effort to separate them from the military following the great war, they made their primary purpose Grimm hunting.
That ideology is drilled into every huntsman from day one, and thus the most effective and righteous people are prevented from maintaining their societies by fighting other humans.
He pulled back into the shadows and decided to return to where the dust container was. He figured that since the door was unlocked it would be found soon.
When he returned, he saw that it was already surrounded by almost a dozen men, and one of them was using a sort of telekinesis semblance to slowly float the container in the direction of the aircraft. He could take him out immediately and stop their plans. But no, he had an even better idea.
He hung back, looking for other victims while they transported the dust to the Bullhead. He found another man, though he managed to scream before his head was decapitated. He heard steps approaching, and he climbed onto high ground and out of sight. Several people, including the leader, found his body. He didn't have much time, so he hurried to the aircraft where he saw them load the boxes into the transport. After they finished, the men formed a circular perimeter around the craft.
He descended onto the ground, revealing himself to them. They all faced him now, their guns held high and forming a straight line. "Hello, gentlemen," he said, smirking to himself.
Seeing the blood on his scythe, one of the men snarled at him, "You got overconfident, huntsman kid. You'll die here. No mercy for your kind."
"Will you say the same thing when it's your turn to die?" he said in a cold voice.
The man laughed, "We give no mercy and ask for none in return. Your kind didn't want to talk when we were weak. And now that we are strong we shall enact righteous vengeance for our suffering, starting with you."
"Very well. Then your fate is decided." Violet said to him with a voice of plain disgust. His left eye began glowing, and his semblance activated. "My command to you, all of you is thus- Die!"
The men previously ready to shoot him faltered. Their postures slouched, and their eyes became empty. They pointed their weapons at their necks, and spoke in unison with completely monotone voices, "As you command." They fired their guns, instantly falling dead. As for Violet, he could only grin as he calmly made his way through a field of corpses.
A lone man came down from the ramp, alerted by the noise. At the sight of so many dead comrades, he froze and his eyes widened in terror. Violet ran towards him, scythe in one hand, knife in the other. He sliced the man's throat with ease, his only feeling that of annoyance at the fact he sullied his clothes with blood. He made his way through the spacious craft now packed with dust supplies, reaching the pilot's cabin.
A man there was waiting for him, his pistol ready. Violet did not mind it. "You shall fly the aircraft to a location 30 miles north-northeast. First fly below radar and head east for 5 minutes before changing course to the landing zone. Find a secluded spot to land in and then kill yourself."
The empty eyes of the man responded, "Yes sir. As you command." Too easy.
He sheathed his knife and exited the ramp, only to be greeted by the furious leader of the group who was flanked by six more men. The ramp closed behind Violet and the craft took off.
He activated his semblance, his eye glowing again, "Die!"
Nothing happened, however. The leader laughed, "Oh my, is that your power? How useful. But it seems to have betrayed you at the worst time imaginable."
Of course, I used it on Blake earlier today. He cursed himself. Ican only do it three times a day and the effect has a time limit. This is getting very bad.
"Oh, I almost didn't recognize you. You were with little red that day," he smiled.
"Don't call her that!" He snarled and readied the Mordred.
The man's smile retreated, and he pointed at him with his cane, "Either way, you killed too many of my goons today. I'm not taking any chances with you." A burst of flame came from the cane. He could not dodge it, and the munition exploded upon contact. His aura shielded him from death, but it was totally drained. The next shot could very well be fatal.
As the others aimed their guns at him, he retracted the Mordred into portable form, which had a large surface area and could act as a shield in a pinch. It deflected a handful of shots before they were themselves interrupted by a burst of automatic fire.
He looked to the side, seeing Blake on a container, firing accurate bursts at them. He took the opportunity to dash for cover, as did the White Fang. He peeked out to see that she had killed three of them. But his relief was replaced by fear. Did Blake see what he did? What would she think of him? He would lose the small bit of trust they had built up. There was a good reason for why he kept his semblance a secret.
The terrorists fired back at Blake, shooting her several times. Yet she did not fall over, in fact she seemed to stand like a stature for several moments before dissolving. He was afraid for a moment, before he remembered she had the power to summon decoy clones of herself. Now that they had revealed themselves, Blake fired her guns from another location, downing more of them.
She was joined by fire coming from another position. Violet gulped as he recognized Ruby, her scythe-sniper shooting toward the enemy. Yang appeared there too, her shotgun gauntlets firing as well. A stream of ice joined them, blowing up a crate one of the men used as cover. Weiss had joined the fray. He collected himself and used the distraction to flank the enemy.
He easily navigated the dockyard using the sound of White Fang gunfire, so it wasn't long before he successfully snuck up behind one of them and ended him quickly and silently with his knife. Another was heavily wounded and crawling away. He stomped on his neck.
Soon, he found their leader, crouched behind some crates, his orange hair disheveled and his coat dirty. He was breathing heavily and cursing under his breath.
"Quite the change from the confident gentleman you were but a moment ago."
He suddenly turned, raising his cane at him, but an explosively propulsed strike sliced his weapon hand clean off. He hissed in pain, before snarling at him, "Do you have any idea who I am? I am Roman Torchwick, for heaven's sake. My death won't be forgotten, they'll come for you. I have powerful friends. You have no idea who you're messing with!"
Violet simply raised his scythe, ready to execute him. The man switched from angry to panicked, "Please, I can give you anything. You want money? I've got it. I can wire you five million lien right now."
"Shut up, scum!" he put his hand on the trigger, "I see that you're willing to kill, yet you're not willing to be killed. How hypocritical of you. Where's that sense of refined mobster honor?"
"You speak like you won't beg for your life too, kid." He gave a weak smile, "You're not above me, you know."
Roman clutched his stump, before sighing, "See you in hell."
The Mordred delivered swift, if not clean, justice, shattering the man's skull with enormous force. He pitied the people who would have to clean up after him. It was at this moment, standing there, that he realized the scale of the fiasco he was in.
He almost lurched at the gory sight he made. And to think his sisters have already seen his handiwork. He couldn't present himself in this bloodied state to Ruby. And Blake possibly knew of his mind control powers. And to top it all off, he could hear sirens approaching in the distance. This was going to be an even longer night than he imagined.