Remnant - VII

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Requested By : Gib

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"You really don't want anything for it…?"

"Negative."

"That's twenty grand in Lien, easy." The Faunus standing at his feet argued, tone more confused than anything, "How could you want… Nothing?"

"I have no need of either Lien or timber." He explained simply, kneeling on the eighth - and final - location he had surveyed over the following weeks and cleared out up in the mountain range that surrounded and protected Menagerie. Each spot was a perfect circle one hundred and ten feet in diameter, with sightlines beyond the mountains and into the badlands, and out over the settlement to the crystal blue of the ocean. Only one had any obstacles, a small rise fifteen miles out that interrupted three degrees of the position's coverage, but that was little issue.

He would remove it in short enough order.

"Still, that's a lot…"

"Mill it and establish a housing district on the coastline." He suggested simply, turning to look down on the old, tusk-bearing Faunus. "Preferably a properly planned one."

"Sounded close to an insult…"

"An improperly planned district will be harder to upgrade with electricity, communications systems, and public-utility transportation." Not to mention layered constructions, allowing for numerous habitation blocks to be more efficiently emplaced in the manner many Cybertronian cities had been constructed. Cocking his head to the side as a thought occurred, he added, "Accommodating my size would make such upgrades more efficiently applied."

"I… Guess we can do you that much charity, yeah." The Faunus sighed and nodded, "Fine. Gimme a day to have ground cleared and we'll have the lumber cleared. We could level the ground too, if you like. Up here, I mean."

"Unnecessary," he turned away, "I will conduct the leveling myself, to my own specifications."

"Uh, alright then, I guess…"

"But," he added as an afterthought, drawing on Human mannerisms he had observed on Earth, "thank you regardless. My leveling will involve strengthening the base, however, and in ways which incorporate techniques and technology unique to my race."

"I mean," he shrugged, "ya could teach us?"

"It is no insult to say that it would require more time to teach you than it would be to do it on my own." He shook his head. It was the truth, though that didn't save him from the derisive, insulted grunt the Faunus paid him as he turned to leave. With a tired sigh, Shockwave turned to survey the land once more and murmured, "Primitives… So easily offended."

It could not be helped, though, he supposed. Primitives were generally as ignorant as they were easily offended by the fact.

Though, given their current circumstances, perhaps he should have been at least moderately less surprised by their ease in finding ways to be insulted. For how many of these people had lived lives surrounded by veiled insults and hidden threats? More than a small percentage of them, at least - enough that it was statistically significant, at least.

Perhaps he should really attempt to be more sensitive…

But how? If he had lied, or allowed the Faunus to aid him, he would indeed have only slowed his progress. Kindness interrupting matters of fact was inefficient - and dangerous. Not to him, of course. But to the Faunus beyond the range of his cannon? Delays, in terms of establishing Menagerie's defenses or his weapons foundries, meant deaths. That, he could not abide.

Wounded pride was preferable to dead men and women.

Pushing the thoughts aside with the decision, he reached out to touch Ghira's Scroll, "I have surveyed the land, cleared it, and await laborers to remove lumber prior to commencing construction. Status?"

'Uh, eating dinner?'

That was odd - he always broke away for dinner at eleven thirty and only took half an hour to three-quarters of an hour to eat. It was nearly one in the afternoon, though. A worryingly anomalous change in time.

Still, the man's time was his own, "Forgive the interruption. Eat. Notify me when you are done, I wish to meet to discuss plans."

'I'm eating with my fiance, on the beach.'

"I see." Then the Faunus would likely not be available until the next day, or even the day after that. Inadequate - but he had no way of preventing it, so the lost time would have to simply be written off entirely. Finally, he sent, "Very well. Enjoy your time. We can meet at a later point to discuss plans."

'Sure.' No less than ten minutes passed before he registered another response from the program he'd left on Ghira's Scroll, to enable him to reach Shockwave if he required it. 'She wanted to know if you'd come by.'

"To what end?"

'She wants to meet you.' He sent back quickly, 'And she kind of doesn't believe what I said about you.'

"She thinks you are a liar?"

'Well, no, but…' There was a pause, for a few moments, before he finished, 'It's a hard story to believe, you know?'

He supposed that the man had a point. On Earth, Humans had also needed time and hard proof to accept the existence of his kind. Both were reasonably easy to supply, typically, but such was still the case. And he did need to wait for the wood to be moved as well, or do it himself, for what little speed he could add to the equation. And that was once the Faunus decided where they wished to build what they desired…

Finally, he turned for Menagerie, "Very well. I'm on my way to your location."

'Do you know where I am?'

"Of course." He answered, "I am tracking your device constantly as a matter of consequence of the program facilitating our dialogue."

'Because of course you are.' Ghira's exasperation was audible in spite of being mere text, and for a moment, 'I told her you're on your way. We'll wait for you.'

He sent back a simple affirmative and continued on his way - this would at least be interesting, he hoped. And an acceptable way to pass the time.

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Ironwood sat at the edge of his bed and stared down at the dull, gun-metal gray of his new hand. It was advanced and powerful, capable of taking blows that would have crushed his own arm even through his Aura, and covered in ballistic-resistant armor plating. Inside, it had three separate Duct power cores - one in the shoulder, one below the elbow, and a small one encased in the armor and structure of his hand. The structure itself was a titanium alloy, anchored to his shoulder and strategically along his back and abdomen, where the prosthetics had been required to…

Well, contain and repair his entrails, frankly.

Some in Atlas, he knew, advocated for prosthetics by choice - to replace limbs with more powerful versions suited to roles, for those willing to do so. He, personally, had never held an opinion on the matter before. His own flesh and bone had always been enough, against the Grimm, enemy soldiers, and so-called Faunus 'revolutionaries' all. But there were those that didn't fare as well as he had, for bad luck or whatever else, so he'd seen the logic even if he saw the danger down that road.

Now, though…

He hated the idea, almost as much as he hated the cold numbness of his new arm and leg - the nerve connections would have to be integrated later, apparently, to protect against rejection.

Quietly, he turned and plucked a small metal ball from his bed, bounced it in his metal palm, and listened to the 'thunk, thunk' of it echo around him. It was effortless with his new, so much more powerful arm…

"Ironwood, Sir." He looked up to find a woman with dull copper hair and pale, freckled and faintly wrinkled skin standing in his door, shadowed by a taller man in the air force's dull silver combat armor.

She herself was not dressed in the air force's colors - instead, she wore the same uniform but black and edged in red - the Development and Recourses division. Her lapel read 'Specialist Brass', and had a pair of service medals under it. And in spite of her hard, flat expression, Ironwood could see the kindness and warmth that twinkled in her green eyes.

He took comfort in it - Branwen always told him eyes were the window for the soul.

He smiled for that warmth, thinly, and asked, "That time already?"

"Yes, Admiral Ironwood, it is." The woman nodded, and at least offered the kindness of a sympathetic smile. "The lead ball again, Sir?"

"It's still… Surreal." He nodded, placing the little ball on its stand on the tiny dresser beside his bed as he stood and reached for his coat. Pulling it on, he asked, "Does it ever get easier to… Understand?"

"Eventually." She nodded, raising and flexing the fingers of her metal hand before returning it to clasping the other behind her waist. She paid him a final nod and turned to step out of the room, "When you are ready, Sir."

With a curt nod, Ironwood buttoned his coat and laid a forlorn hand on the empty place where Due Process was supposed to rest…

But weapons were restricted to security personnel in Atlas, and he was most certainly not that. At least, not inside the city. A few kilometers in any direction, however, and he was licensed to carry whatever he pleased - and even if he weren't, who could stop a military man out in the frontier? And one backed by a fleet at that?

'Someone on Menagerie' a little voice whispered seditiously in his ear, 'Someone powerful. More powerful than Atlas…'

He shook the thought off with a frown - whatever Menagerie had, Atlas would come to match it eventually. They always had, it was their destiny.

The woman was waiting outside with two of the armored, rifle-toting Atlesian soldiers, both of whom fell in line to either side of him as she turned to lead him away. From the outside, he was sure it looked like he was a prisoner being marched to hearing and sentencing, with a pair of rifles to motivate his cooperation. And after the debacle in Menagerie - the 'massacre at sea' as it was being called on the radio and in the papers, he knew - Ironwood understood why anyone might feel so inclined.

In reality, they weren't terribly far off the mark.

Only, these soldiers were his protective detail, not his detainment detail. More than a few might want his head on a platter for his failure in Menagerie, after all…

Their trip was a short one, passing from Atlas Academy's medical wing and up, through it to the Bullhead docks nestled along its back and sheltered by the Academy overhead. A private military transport was waiting for them, part of the new, sleek gray and heavily armored Bullhead line. Inside there was only standing room, unfortunately, but that had been a needed measure - in place of the weight of seats, lights, and other such base comforts, the exterior had been mounted with additional armor.

And a pair of missile pods, nestled against the hull with the engines to their sides.

Needless to say, Ironwood favored the trade-out.

More than where they were headed, at least…

They landed at the back edge of Atlas, where the Congress rose up and looked out over the city, at least to the shining swell of Atlas Academy at its heart. He could see crowds gathered in the plazas that ringed the Congress. Media, protesters and ralliers milled about the colonnades and statues - all here for him. In more than one way of speaking, too.

He could see the effigies from here…

"We're landing at a private dock in the back." The woman said when she caught him looking, "Ten minutes until the hearing. May want to get your head on straight."

"Thank you, Specialist Brass." He sighed, "Let's get this over with."

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Kali Nera was a small woman with bright amber eyes that stared up at him with no fear, but plenty of furiosity, a soft face, and velvety ears that seemed quite simply incapable of stillness - constantly flicking between the sea at his left, the jungle at his right, and Shockwave himself as his systems hummed and groaned internally. It was frankly impressive that she could hear those noises, they were so quiet, but he supposed that felines were rather known for their hearing, among other things.

He wondered if it would be problematic at all to ask if she had claws…

Most likely so, he decided.

She was dressed in a loose, flowing black dress of sorts, made up of cloth wrapped loosely around her body and fastened at the stomach, hips and shoulders by iron rings that showed plenty of skin at all three places. Her arms were bare, as were her legs below her thighs, but only to an extent. She wore dozens of thick metal rings, made of copper, bronze, tin and iron, on both her forearms, tied taut with thick blue silk, and dark, translucent stockings up to her knees as well.

Far from leisure wear, however, the rings showed scars and divots - signs of assault. He could also make out scars on her legs and forearms, and the explanse of hip the rings showed as well. And even the dress itself had signs of wear and repair, if one looked deep enough to see it.

"So…" She started, folding her arms while Ghira sat anxiously on the blanket they'd apparently been pic-nicking on - judging by the wine, baked fish and fire beyond him. "You're… Certainly a thing."

"I am a multi-thousand year old mechanical life-form with knowledge of sciences so far beyond your world as to be magic." He countered, "I'm… A little more than a 'thing'."

"Yes," she hummed, "you're a smart thing."

"Ghira…"

"Don't ask me for help." He snorted, "She's always like this.

"And he likes that I'm like this, so he definitely won't help you." Kali added quickly and quietly, pointing at Shockwave's legs and asking more sharply, "Why doesn't this match? Your arm, too. Your chest and everything is purple and boxy, but that isn't."

"I was damaged." He answered, raising and inspecting his dull silver hand mechanically, "I lack sufficient materials for proper repairs."

"How bad was it…?"

"I lost approximately sixty two percent of my total mass, including components of my head." He answered simply, gesturing with his newer hand towards the sitting man and adding, "Ghira provided components and power to facilitate basic repairs. Here, I can repay his kindness by protecting your people, and facilitate more advanced materials as I become able."

"I see…" She looked past him, at where his tower poked up out of the green of Menagerie, and then looked back to him. "How's that going?"

"It proceeds." He answered quietly, turning to look out on the ocean as he did. "For now, my focus is on consolidation. And defense."

"Of Menagerie?"

"Menagerie's safety and stability is a prerequisite to my own." He had made an enemy of Atlas, after all. And while he did not fear them, he was uninterested in fending them off for his own personal success.

He also knew better by now than to underestimate how… Annoyingly persistent Humans, and organics in general, could be.

He was utterly uninterested in that.

"Ghira told me you're planning to build us a wall."

"I am indeed." In truth, he was considering simply using electrical pylons positioned strategically to detect and eradicate Grimm as they passed the threshold. But such required time, and some considerations, before he felt it viable enough to mention. "As well as direct-effect defense systems and constructs as well. Walls are not the most successful of ventures when one has even a modicum of will to overcome it."

"Truer words." Ghira grunted, "Truer words. And the Grimm have plenty of willpower, when they get stirred up."

"Indeed." He'd read enough private records to conclude as much - ornery beasts, the Grimm. Quietly, he suggested, "I have met few things which can out-enthuse a particle laser, however."

"I haven't seen any of those, but…" Ghira chuckled, "I'd be inclined to agree, Shockwave."

"I mean, a high caliber shell tends to do the job too. You don't have to get all fancy and showy with it." Kali shrugged and looked up, smiling at him and bobbing her head towards the sand. "Join us for lunch?"

"I do not eat."

"No, but you do plan. And talk." She smiled, turning and taking a spot on the blanket with her back to him. When he didn't move, she turned to look over her shoulder, one brow raised, and pointed a finger to a spot just past their bonfire.

With a sigh, he stepped over them, their pic-nic and the bonfire all in one step. Then he turned and knelt in the sand, turning to watch the sea as the two started to each and chat about how he had met Ghira. This wasn't how he'd intended to spend his evening, but…

Well, he did need to pass some time until the lumber was cleared. So it could have been worse…

"Shockwave."

"Yes?" He rumbled, turning to Kali.

"You're an alien…"

"Evidently."

"Tell us about your homeworld." She suggested, sipping at a glass of wine. "What was it like? I've always wondered what an alien world would be like…"

Well…

That was an interesting turn in conversation, he supposed.

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