Remnant - II

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Requested By : Gib

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The settlement of Menagerie was a quagmire of a settlement, made up of clusters of ramshackle tents, lean-tos and shacks scattered along the beach, a handful of clusters of rough, log cabins further inland, towards the low, green-capped mountains that encircled the site, and what few buildings Atlas had built before they and Mistral enacted their madness. Most of that lay along the beach, in the docks the Kingdom had built to drop off their exiles and a pair of warehouses they'd filled with 'enough supplies to start a Kingdom'. Which had turned out to be little more than a hundred rifles, enough ammunition for half of them, and the building supplies for two of the five watch-towers Ghira had ordered built along the encompassing mountains.

Enough to start a Kingdom indeed…

The look-out posts were all different, but the one he found himself at two days later was a squat sort of pseudo-barracks with a tall look-out tire spindling up at one end. It was simple, rugged, and pieced together as much with the supplies they'd been given as with what they could scrounge together themselves. But it worked well enough to serve as a Grimm-watch and a sky-watch both, so he wouldn't complain.

"Ghira?" He turned as a woman dressed in simple, black pants and a padded leather vest over an equally simple green shirt approached him, a pilfered Atlesian bolt-action slung over a shoulder and a belt of ammunition across her slim chest. He nodded and she introduced herself, "Alex Ironbark. Sienna Khan said you needed a guide."

"Did she, ah, say why?"

"No." She shrugged, "Just told me you needed a guide past the Grimm Peaks. I got paid, so the why of it doesn't matter. Unless you think it'll factor into the job?"

"I'm… Going out to find someone, out there. Answering a distress call, matter of fact." Her dark, jade-colored eyes narrowed and he grimaced sympathetically, "Yes, yes, I know, it's probably a trap. But…"

"But your gut says different?"

"It does, in fact, say different." He smiled, "Do you mind the job, then?"

"Any of you lot out there fighting ask me for help, you have it. As long as I don't have to… To... N-Nevermind." She waved him off and turned, ignoring his raised eyebrow and beckoning with a hand for him to follow. As he did, she explained, "I have horses for us to ride, and we'll have to cross the badlands to get from here to the forest leading up to the Grimm Peaks. That open coat of yours will keep the heat down at least, even if the fur isn't… Great."

"It's actually rather breathable." He smiled, rolling his shoulders and feeling the armored pauldrons shift as he did, "And a gift from my fiance."

"Ah." She nodded, "Understandable. Now are you ready to leave?"

"Whenever you are, miss." Ghira said as he followed her, tugging the straps of his armor taut warily. Anxiously. He always got anxious whenever he went over the mountains or out to sea… Even though he knew that Grimm, and attackers of the more Human variety, didn't much care if he was in the settlement or not.

It was just funny how that worked.

Ironbark led him to a quartet of dark, mottled grey and black horses tied to a tree beside a just barely worn out path with a thin post that unceremoniously read 'Wild Lands' and pointed away from Menagerie. The path wound away into the jungle before vanishing around a large tree, but he knew it well enough - he'd walked it a dozen times, over the last couple years, although not nearly as far as he was going to today.

The two lead horses were saddled and bridled, with small packs on their hips for food and water while they rode. The second set, though, were larger hauling horses, loaded with large bags and decently sized boxes hanging on their sides. Tents, food, water, camping gear - it was the usual fare, and better than most in Menagerie got. Sienna's assistance, no doubt - gifts from one of her raids in Mistral.

But one thing did confuse him.

"Two horses?" He asked quietly, "Usually, one can carry gear for two people."

"That's… A Dust generator?" She sounded confused and that only got worse when Ghira's brows knitted together in confusion. She folded her arms, cocked her head and her hips and explained, "It was on the dossier you sent over. Had to trade a pretty coin or two for it, too."

"I sent the request…?"

"Yes," she frowned suspiciously, "you did. Something about needing power out there to run something where we're headed?"

"I see…" He most certainly hadn't done that, and laid a hand on his vest, where his Scroll was tucked away. Had his 'friend' done that through his Scroll? Why not just ask Ghira to do it? Unless he expected Ghira would refuse, which… He very well might have. Regardless, he waved the guide off and chuckled, "I must have forgotten. Apologies."

"Forgotten…?" She scoffed, shook her head and mounted her horse in one fluid motion. "I suppose you are a busy man. Your fiance is out in Mistral, with Khan, no?"

"Indeed." He chuckled, mounting his own horse with far less skill and ease than she had and answering her question, "And yes, she is. I'm not sure what she's doing, though. You know how it is."

"Information is a weapon." She nodded, kicking her horse, "Come on then. Let's get going. We have days ahead of us."

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The man - Faunus, actually, per his delving into the Scrolls of those in his reception - was finally departing the settlement. And, from the correspondence Shockwave had shared with his guide, with the power generator he needed in tow and only a week's travel between it and Shockwave's flickering Spark. Less ideal was their transport - horseback was slow by all accounts, compared to his own alt-form transportation and Humankind's - but barring any massive setbacks, he predicted their arrival somewhere between five standard planetary cycles and twenty seven standard planetary cycles. Well within his remaining eighty-two standard planetary cycles of power.

Acceptable margins of error.

While that progressed, he dedicated more of his precious processing power to investigating the small continent - Menagerie, his inquiries and investigations had revealed. An appropriate name given its denizens - the Faunus, which appeared to be a sub-species of Homo Sapiens which unilaterally featured bestial mutations. He'd catalogued dozens already - claws, fur, scales, a selection of additional ears as well as, in some cases, the lack of standard Homo Sapien ears entirely. He'd even catalogued four instances of winged Faunus, and one video of one flying - or at least gliding - between buildings in some sort of training.

Simply… Fascinating.

But something was… Off, somehow. Too many variables were in too many strange places.

Why, for example, did the Faunus' settled presence on Menagerie seem so incredibly… New? Under-developed, in another word. Huts, rather than houses. Scant infrastructure, from what Scroll-based cameras he'd accessed when he was able. And numerous mentions in a dozen Scrolls he had accessed of the 'Atlesian docks' - while he knew that the settlement itself was known as 'Menagerie'.

He reached out to another Scroll as it arrived and-

Ah, a journal.

How ideal.

He accessed the first, and oldest, dated to precisely four hundred and two standard planetary cycles before-hand. It was also the shortest, and read simply, 'So this is where Atlas sent us? There's not even any walls. Three people died on the first night, camping out on the beach. We're all going to die here because those racists forced us here!'

The next read, 'Atlas sent more people, but no food? How are we supposed to live here! I'm going to talk with Alphonse tomorrow about it. They can't just exile us all here and leave us to die!'

Exile…

Forced exile at that. Based on race - or rather, species, but the delineation was nothing beyond a pedantic one. And pointlessly so, considering the pointedly past-tense nature of the journal he had accessed. He read more, and realization dawned, alongside healthy helpings of disgust, distaste, and horror.

So, this is what Ghira meant by accusing him of being a spy…

Tentatively, he reached out through a backdoor and messaged his hopeful rescuer, 'You suspected I was a spy for Atlas?'

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Half a day out from Menagerie, Scrolls stopped working for anything beyond, usually, those you were traveling with. Most other people were too far away for the little things' transmitters to reach without the Cross Continental Transmit System, or the smaller extension nodes like the one Atlas had built onto the side of one of the warehouses on the docks they'd left them. Out here, without those, you had whatever was installed on your Scroll to keep you busy or navigate, or whatever else you needed, and whoever was close enough to speak to.

So, when his Scroll suddenly buzzed with a message notification, he could be excused for barking a short, surprised shout and nearly falling off of his horse.

"What is it?" His guide called back, slinging her rifle around in both arms and bringing their train of horses to a stop. "Grimm? Where?"

"N-No Grimm!" He assured her, holding up a hand for peace when she turned a glare on him. Holding up his Scroll, he thought quickly and offered sheepishly, "I, uh, forgot to turn off an alarm. It startled me, that's all."

"That could get people killed, Ghira."

"I know, I know." He sighed, dropping his hands, "I apologize. It won't happen again."

"It better not." The woman warned firmly, turning and kicking her horse back into a walk. The rest, including his, followed meekly enough, tails flicking agitatedly all the while. Opening his Scroll he rolled his eyes and sent back, 'Atlas, Mistral, even Vale. All the same.'

'I am not from any of these places.'

'And I'm just supposed to believe you?'

'You will soon enough, so it does not matter.' His 'friend' responded simply, earning another roll of his eyes. 'You are Ghira Belladonna.'

'Because you didn't know?'

'I did not.' They answered, 'Why, should I have? Are you important?'

'Not really.' He was a relatively famous speaker, a decently known fighter, and a decent face - or 'body' as Kali always liked to tease him - for the social part of the fight. 'But a spy? That's someone that might want some hooks in me.'

'I would not do that.' They responded, text scrawling across the black screen rapidly. And quickly, too, almost like he… Didn't need to wait for Ghira's messages to reach him. 'That sounds rather painful.'

'That's the point.'

'Ah.' A moment passed and they responded, 'How primitive. There are far superior ways to induce pain in an organic subject. Direct neural stimulus, for instance. Which is also far more sanitary.'

Ghira blinked, confused for a moment. Organic subject…?

He shrugged it off and sent a message before they could, 'You used my name to get a Dust generator.'

'I require power.' They answered simply, 'I am dying.'

'And those are connected?'

'Yes.' They responded instantly, 'Rest assured, you will be convinced when you arrive.'

'That sounds vaguely threatening.'

'It should not.' They said, 'I said nothing threatening, and this is a text-based format. Thus, it cannot sound threatening.'

Ghira blinked slowly at that, sighed, and looked up to look around them for wherever this person might be hiding. Down at the base of the mountains that protected Menagerie, vegetation grew sparse. Not thin, not really, but more arid and open, lacking the more outright 'wet' ferns and trees that grew along the coastlines and mountains surrounding the dry heart of the continent. It was hilly, and wooded thickly enough to be a forest, but he could see clearly enough and far enough to be certain no one was riding nearby, stalking them.

He frowned…

What the hell had he stepped in?

After a moment, he turned back to his screen, frowned, and typed, 'You know my name, but I don't know yours. Care to share?'

'My name is unimportant at this time.'

'I disagree.' He sent back, 'And if you won't trust me with it, I won't come to you. I'll turn this expedition around right now.'

'You cannot.'

'I can, and we both know it.' He'd need to make excuses to Ironbark, but that wouldn't be the most problematic part of the ordeal.

No, that would be paying her back for an expensive Dust generator. Those were hard to come by - only really available from crews coming in from Mistral and Vale for rest and resupply. And they tended to trade it for a lot, too. Weapons could go for less than a Dust generator, especially if it came with Dust. And Alex wouldn't have packed it expecting to use it if she didn't have Dust to fuel it, for obvious reasons.

After a moment, he pressed, 'This has to go both ways. If you can't trust me, I can't afford to trust you.'

Several long, quiet minutes passed in silence, and for a while, he considered following through on his threat and turning around. It would be awkward, obviously but life was full of awkward moments. And Menagerie had plenty for him to do.

Finally, though, his friend responded, 'I see. That is logical. You are a persuasive person, Ghira Belladonna.'

'I try.'

'Indeed you do.' Another, shorter, moment passed and another message came in, 'Very well, then. My name is Shockwave. I look forward to meeting you when you arrive. And not only because you are bringing me needed supplies, either.'

'Shockwave?'

'Indeed.'

'That's an odd name.'

'For you, perhaps.' Shockwave answered simply, 'But for me, 'Ghira Belladonna' is an equally strange name.'

'That's fair enough, I suppose.'

'Indeed.' Shockwave answered, 'Enjoy your travels. I will be waiting.'

With that rather ominous sentiment, the strange messenger that 'Shockwave' used to communicate closed and his Scroll returned to normal. Ghira gave it a look, frowned, then shrugged and closed it. Whatever was going on was definitely interesting, even if he wasn't entirely convinced it was real.

He'd find out in a few days, he supposed.

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A wee bit of a slow chapter, but I needed to set up a few things for plot, and wanted to do some character progression and time-line establishment. Hope you all enjoyed!

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