Remnant - XXIII

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Requested By : Gib

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"I understand the tensions, councilor-"

"Tensions?!" Sleet snapped, "Mantle is being rocked by protests! Atlas, too! There are protestors outside my home right now!"

"I understand-"

"Do you?" He demanded hotly, "Do you understanding waking up to your name from a bloody foghorn while they burn an effigy of you? Do you understand that?"

"I understood that my job was to facilitate the relocation program that this Council, along with its allies, had voted to conduct." Ironwood answered, standing on his platform in the Atlesian Congress surrounded by the various ministers, aides, advisors, sector-mayors and bureaucrats arrayed throughout the gallery. Firmly, he said, "That is all I did."

"You crippled out internal affairs!" One man, a portly minister of industrial allocation, called out in a loud, accusatory voice. "You even took the penal Faunus workers from us! Those were kept to keep our production quotas and now they are falling behind!"

"Not just here, either." An eldery woman, representing one of the more powerful trade conglomerates in Atlas, called out. "Our imports of lumber and produce are dropping due to Vale's decimated labor force. That's driving prices up. People are starving!"

"Then perhaps I should dispatch my forces to appropriate those goods from your warehouses."

"What?" The woman turned a wide=eyed look on him, "Our warehouses are barely stocked! And you have no right besides."

"Military emergency law allows me to appropriate materials as needed for an ongoing war effort, or an emergency situation. From yourself, and from any department with materials needed for either situation" Ironwood countered, "Situations such as this one, which we are all equally responsible for."

At his accusation, the polite silence of the assembly was shattered by the men and women of the gathering all rising to shout their protests and threats. Sanctions, impeachment, trial for treason - all ridiculous, of course, and he lost the rest in the noise. But not for the first time, he looked across the assembly and found only enemies of Atlas' future. People who would risk the Kingdom itself over stock-piled warehouses and a digit on a screen.

Traitors…

"We will have order!" Camilla's voice finally managed to break in over the din and, after a moment, the uproar began to die down. She cast a baleful look at the congress before she turned back to Ironwood and said, "Explain yourself, Ironwood. And do so carefully, or I will move the congress for an impeachment."

"Impeachment…" An Atlesian Councilor had never even been impeached. He would be the first, and go down in Atlas' history as such.

For what little time it would be 'Atlas' history' without him to protect it.

"I was charged with the resettlement of the Faunus of the Kingdoms, by the elected officials of Vale, Mistral and Atlas all." He finally rumbled, Aura flaring as that sense of calm overcame him, let him focus on the simplicity of the matter at hand. "Removing hundreds of low skill workers was always going to cause internal problems which would need to be addressed. However, I did my duty, and stand by it with full faith in the capabilities of Atlas and its administrators to get us all through the… Unfortunate roughness that comes with it."

"But," he went on quietly, standing straight and clasping his hands behind his back, "if you all, if Atlas, is too weak to do this. If you wish to go back on your decision. Then say the word. I will reverse all efforts immediately, on your orders. All you need to do is admit the fact."

With the ball back in their court, and the responsibility back on them, the assembly fell into a dull roar. Dozens of groups spread out around him turned to talk and argue amongst themselves and then among each other. Facing either taking responsibility for deciding to renege on the Faunus expulsion edict or accepting the collapse of their economy, each and every one of them turned on each other. Blamed each other.

It was pathetic, to see how quickly they all turned around. An about face for the sole reason of self-preservation…

As the volume began to build into a proper roar, Sleet raised his voice, "That is enough, all of you!"

"Agreed!" Camilla called out, "I call the assembly to order, and to vote. Do we continue the Faunus Relocation Program? Vote on your Scrolls and submit."

Ironwood abstained from his vote, and slipped his Scroll back into his pocket to wait the half hour the assembly spent arguing before everyone eventually, finally, voted. Once all had been accounted for, and they were certain all had voted or officially abstained, Camilla was given the count. As were Sleet and James himself, of course, to ensure clarity. But Camilla was the one presumed to read them off, as the one who had called the vote in the first place.

"It is decided, by majority vote of an indisputable margin." Camilla announced, "The relocation will continue. And the assembly will turn to industrial and economic reforms to combat the crises caused by the labor loss."

"To that end," Ironwood started, "I suggest a work-immigration program, into Mantle."

"Explain."

"Happily, Councilor Sleet." He nodded and smiled, "Essentially, qualified persons apply for citizenship as part of application to businesses within Mantle. The military will handle transportation. This will allow our labor force to increase."

"And Vale's?" The merchant woman from before called out, "We need their food. Their lumber."

"To that end…" He said, "I suggest further funding into Pietro Polendina's robotic ventures. He had promised me cheap robotic labor."

"And you'd trust that man?" Sleet demanded, "Some nobody doctor from Mantle?"

"That nobody is the best prosthetics engineer in the Kingdom." Ironwood argued, laying a hand on his chest, where flesh met metal. "As I am acutely aware."

"Robotics and prosthetics are different." Sleet argued, "And beyond the latter, Polendina is very much a nobody. Doctor Watts would be far better, as a specialist in programming. With his aid, we could turn the robotic units we already have to the same end."

"I suppose…" Something was off, and Ironwood could feel it. Sleet had, in the past, only had praise for Polendina.

So why…?

"I move that we hold interviews at a later date." Camilla called out, "To look over the merits of both, and elect the head of Atlas' chosen plan."

As the new vote went out, Ironwood watched Sleet ease back into his seat with a grimace. He voted quickly, then snatched up the glass on the table beside him and sipped at the win like a man dying of thirst. Or stress.

Something was wrong…

But what could it be?

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Doctor Watts watched the meeting go forward from the comfort of his own home, courtesy of a direct-line to the security cameras that ringed the Congress floor. The audio quality was rubbish and broken, often garbling the speakers' words, and the video was little better. The Councilors had better cameras, closer and facing down at their backs from a lower angle, so the audio was better too. But even that was fuzzy, a bit out of focus, and made his eyes hurt if he watched for too long.

But still… It was the best show he'd seen yet.

He sipped at his wine and smiled thinly, fingers hovering over the second Scroll, in his lap. He clicked the picture and it expanded - the good Councilman Sleet, looking quite happy as he stepped out of a hotel and into a dark-windowed car. A flick and a second picture - a young red-head in a short skirt, coming out with a tired frown just a bit after him. The connection was obvious.

And, funnily enough, a false one - Sleet had done nothing.

But the tabloids would run with the scandal regardless. "And oh, so close to elections… My how a good scandal could ruin you."

The woman's name was Sierra Crim, an escort for Atlas' elite. And a greedy woman who had been happy to take a thousand Lien and record herself gasping the good man's name. Along with a handful of expletives, and a discussion of pay. The pictures and that would ruin the man. And he'd known it when Watts reached out to him with them, with a very simple demand - do not front Polendina's projects if it is avoidable.

It would have been easy, of course, to simply have him push Watts' own project to the fore.

But such would have painted a bright target on his back.

"Still, the decision ultimately comes down to you, General." He sighed, flicking through the video feed to find Ironwood's and frowning. "I wonder just how intelligent you are…"

Regardless, as the vote passed by and they moved on to the next matter - some development plan in Mantle - he sighed and cut the feed. For now, he'd just have to wait and see who was put in charge of the development programs. And who was put in the gutter, where he belonged.

With a smirk, he slid the Scroll with the incriminating details into his pocket, stood, and slipped into the next room.

Tied to a chair, and groggy from a bloodied head wound, Sierra was only just coming to.

"Good morning, my dear." She winced and turned to him, grogginess fading away as she recognized him and her eyes widened. "Ah, yes, well… I'm afraid my plan's gone through. The good Councilor pushed me, as he promised. And he doesn't know anything but my pen name. You, though…"

He fished the knife out of his pocket and smiled sympathetically, "Oh, I'm sure you thought it was smart, but… You shouldn't have demanded to meet me in person for our deal."

"Mph!" She shook her head and jerked away as he approached, screaming into the gag he'd duct-taped across her lips. "Mph!"

"Shhh, shhh…." Watts sighed, "Just trust the good doctor. Hmm? You'll only feel a pinch…"

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The coastline between Harmonex and Menagerie curved and rolled, gentle hills crescendoing up to towering mountains that ran along the coast and out to rough, short cliffs and beaches covered in spale brown sand. In some cases, the beaches were unsteady rocky, covered in little tidal pools that served as home and harbor to crabs, snakes, and an odd sort of spider the size of a man's head, which migrated from them to the water, and disappeared into it before returning with fish that they left in the pools and, now and again, ate. Sometimes, the mountains dipped down into shallow, narrow and hilly valleys full of shrubbery and little else, clinging to the narrow clefts all along the cliff-sides. None of the passages were larger than Shockwave himself, when he was turned on his side.

But even so, he set Faunus to work sealing the holes for now, using a pair of wooden palisades with a foot of space between them, which his Insecticons filled with mixed sand and mud to form a natural, dense barrier.

With that done, he called on six of the Insecticons he had assigned to assist with the labor camps. Razor-Claw, Crush, Carve, Tear, and-

He blinked, looking at the Insecticons, and then rumbled, "Where is Sever?"

The Insecticons exchanged anxious looks before they finally rounded on Carve and he sidled forward to murmur timidly, "Sever… Is at Menagerie, master."

"I called for him."

"Yes…"

"So," he rumbled, turning to him fully and lowering his gaze, "why is he at Menagerie?"

"His… Tiny flesh thing cried when he tried to leave." Carve murmured, "So, he stay."

"Tiny… Flesh thing?"

"Like Lady Kali." Tear snarled, softening when Shockwave turned to him, "Flesh thing… Faunus. Small."

"Easily frightened." Carve agreed, "Cried. Sever didn't like that."

"And so he ignored my call?" None of the Insecticons answered, but then, the question had been a purely rhetorical one. Sever was absent, and so, he had ignored Shockwave's demand for his attendance. Turning, he pointed at one of the wooden markers embedded into the earth, which was barely more than a less useful plank of wood with an 'X' marked on it in red. Another just like it sat forty feet away from it, across a relatively open swathe of dirt. "Follow the path these lay out, clear and level the land as best you can between them. Once complete, report to Menagerie, seek out Steele. She will direct you to the next project."

"Yes, Master." They all intoned together.

He nodded and they turned, raising their wings as they lifted off and moved toward Harmonex. This would enable them to work their way towards Menagerie, where Steele was, rather than finishing at Harmonex and then flying to Menagerie and wasting time. Also, conveniently, it would keep them farther from Menagerie, where he and Sever would be.

A fact he was certain they would all call a coincidence.

Turning, he made his way out to the beach where he transformed into his flight-capable supremacy form and launched into the sky. He reached his preferred cruising altitude in moments, and as he turned toward Menagerie, he could see the two budding settlements sprawled out on their stretches of coastline. And he could see, distantly, the handful of towns that dotted Mistral's southern coast as well. They were small, in truth closer to villages than towns, but he cataloged them regardless. Information was, after all, power.

Soundwave had more than taught him that much.

Turning, he fired a single impulse-burst and rocketed towards Menagerie at one-third his maximum speed. He arrived in a matter of moments, turned, and slowed as he came down towards the beach where he would not risk harming anyone with his landing. At a safe velocity, he shifted again and fell into the sand with a thunderous tremor and a blast of sand flying all around him. Kneeling, he looked around himself to make sure he had been correct in his estimation.

Aside from a few scowls, and one Faunus swearing at him as he tossed water over the roasted fish Shockwave's sand had been blown towards, he had been wholly correct.

Standing, he turned and cast his gaze further up the beach. When he found nothing, he activated his internal communication unit.

"Yes?" Ghira answered quietly, sounding… Tired, in spite of it being past noon already. "What is it?"

"I am looking for Sever." He answered, "Have you seen him?"

"Insecticon?" He tried, "Mostly black with blue wings, forearms and lower leg plates?"

"Indeed."

"He's up the beach, in an inlet near the wall." Ghira sighed, "With the, uh… Well, you'll see."

"I… Will?"

"Yeah." ghira rumbled, "And Shockwave?"

"Yes, Ghira?"

"Go easy on him." Ghira asked, "Sever's been… Having it rough, last few days."

Confused, and more curious than angry now, Shockwave rumbled, "I will… Take matters into due account."

"Thanks."

Rising, he began to make his way along the beach, to the inlet Ghira had directed him to. There was only one, at a location near where the wall ended by the sea, where Shockwave and Ghira were considering installing a retaining wall to maintain a tidal pool, for oyster or clam farming. The inlet itself ran inland about thirty feet, and was about five feet wide at its narrowest, which widened to fifteen in the shallows that let out into the ocean itself.

When he returned to it, a walkway had been built across the widest part of it, where it met the sea. It was made of rough wooden planks, held up on unevenly cut lengths of wood anchored by the rocky ground beneath it. A small fisherman's shack had been thrown up at the other end of it, in the shadow of the wall, and the man sitting outside it paid him a nod before giving his simple rod an experimental tug and then sighing when no fish answered.

Further up, he found his Insecticon.

Sitting in the shallow water while a small child swam in the deeper parts, darting around the water less like a human and more like a fish. Sever was watching her closely, one arm stretched out while a couple of smaller children climbed up to his shoulder and then slid down along the curve his arm provided. Another was standing on his shoulder, grinning widely and painting odd, swirling designs along the segmented armor that protected his head.

So distracted watching the children, Sever didn't notice him and, after a moment of watching, Shockwave turned and left, reaching back out to Ghira.

"Uh, hello?"

"Did you donate one of my Insecticons to orphan-sitting?"

"No." The man chuckled, "He kind of… Got volunteered for it."

"How?"

"The girl, Aqua." Ghira answered, "She's… Sort of adopted him. Won't listen to anyone else, and gets upset if he wanders off for more than an hour or so. So we let them have the little inlet, for her to exercise in. The others just kind of… Happened."

"I see." He chuckled, "I will need one of your construction Insecticons, then, to replace him on the road crew."

"I'll send along, uh… Gnash, I suppose." Ghira sighed, "Sorry about this, Shockwave."

"Do not be." He said, "This is… An intriguing development."

"Of course you'd say that…" The Faunus laughed, "Well, I'll send him along. Talk to you later."

As the call ended, Shockwave transformed once more, turning and cruising back to his crew to oversee their efforts. But his thoughts lingered on the Insecticon. They were meant to be savage and dull, purpose built as they were. But… Sever's disobedience, and cause for it, went against that. And the in-built obedience to his orders each held.

It would be interesting, to observe this development as time went on.

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