Remnant - XV

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Requested By : Gib

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He was woken up by a pounding on his door and rolled out of bed, tugging his robes on as he made his way to the outside door that let out of their new, very temporary home onto the beach. The Ranger in Chief, Aspen, a crocodilian Faunus covered nearly entirely by thick scales and with a shaggy head of dull green hair hanging down to his shoulders. Unlike a lot of the rangers, and even Hunters, that had come to Menagerie he didn't cover himself in armor, or carry the fanciest rifle he could get his hands on. Instead he carried a simple bow on his back, in a protecting leather sheath, and a quiver-full of arrows on his waist.

And Ghira knew that he didn't need anything else from personal experience.

"Aspen." He smiled and folded his arms over his chest, enjoying the warm ocean breeze drifting in from the ocean. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You weren't in your office."

"Kali and I wanted something a bit more homey tonight than my stuffy office, Aspen." He sighed. The man had always been rough, and a bit nosy, but he was a good one, Ghira knew. "A bed shoved into the back isn't quite what we want every night, I'm sure you understand. I hope that's not why you-"

"We found the spy."

"I…" Ghira blinked, surprised, "You did? So easily?"

"Get dressed." He said, "Come."

"I, uh- Alright, I guess." Aspen grunted and nodded, and turned to lean against the wall by his door without another word while Ghira slipped back inside. Kali was waiting in her lacy, very distracting gown, and raised an eyebrow when he turned to her. "They found the spy, Aspen wants me to come with him."

"Ah…"

"Aspen is no spy." Ghira assured her for the tenth time in the week Kali had spent narrowing her suspect list down. "Or he wouldn't have-"

"Told me the key was used." Kali finished for him, "I know. I just…"

"Everyone's paranoid of late, dear." Ghira smiled gently and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead before he slid by and into the bedroom. "Let me get dressed, and you can get some rest. I'll deal with this."

"But-"

"No butts allowed here but yours." He grunted as he pulled his trouser on. He heard her scoff and snort, but that seemed to mollify her.

At least long enough for him to finish getting dressed and slip out the door and into the warm mid-night.

Aspen only grunted and slipped in front of him, taking the lead with as little communication as always.

The man led him closer to the wall and to one of the small cottages that had sprung up along the bottom of the hill in its shadow. It was eclectic, a log cabin big enough for one or two, but with a curved metal roof. Made from the salvaged Atlesian ships, he was certain, but it was hard to tell. It had been painted a bright, sky blue when it was put in, like many of the cabins and huts scattered along the mountain foothills, more of which sprung up every day.

Atlas had taken many homes, and lives, in their fiery attack, but the Faunus were hardy and tenacious.

They would keep moving forward no matter what.

A ranger was waiting, hood tucked up around her ears and a cloth mask wrapped around her face, and she pushed off the wall as they came. Quietly, she said, "All yours, Chief."

"Sleep well, you've a shift on the wall tomorrow." Aspen grunted, watching her leave before taking her place by the door and jerking his head towards it. "Like we found her. Only one in or out's been me."

"You mean she's…?" The man nodded, but didn't speak, which told Ghira he wanted him to get a look first.

Inside, the cabin was perfectly normal. A small kitchen and living area in one, with a decently sized table in the center and a couple chairs. Beyond that, it was barren and neat, aside from an old plate of food flies buzzed around hungrily. All was normal, though, so he made his way to the one door and pushed it open.

The smell of blood hit him immediately, and he covered his nose as he slipped into the small bedroom.

It was mostly simple, little more than a worktable by the door, a cabinet in the corner, and a cot. A thick rug covered the floor, and a map of Menagerie, or what of it they had mapped at least, covered the wall by the door and over the worktable. There was even a small, simple bookcase lined by worn books and furled old scrolls. It was all so simple, and normal.

Less simple and normal was that the cot wasn't empty.

A woman lay in the bed, dressed only in a thin yukata sleeping gown that did shamefully little to hide her too-pale body where the blankets didn't cover her. He did her the kindness of pulling the blankets over her chest before he looked to her face.

"Blood-shot eyes." He murmured quietly, trailing his hand along her chin around her lips and murmuring, "And foamy blood around the mouth, too."

Gently, and dreading what he'd find, he rolled her head to the side and frowned. Bleeding from the ears, too…

"Poison." He growled, standing and shaking his head. This was why Aspen had brought him, and not let anyone in. He'd wanted to show Ghira evidence with no chance of alteration, so he could testify to it.

Everyone trusted Ghira, but not very many trusted Aspen, unfortunately…

"Poison." Aspen grunted quietly as he slipped outside. Ghira grunted and nodded, and the man held up a slip of wrinkled paper and added, "Found this on the kitchen table, by the food. Steak and fish? A fine last meal."

Ghira knew what he was implying, but took the note before he said anything and read it out, "I'm sorry. I had no choice."

"Suicide." Aspen grunted, "Our spy, I figure."

"You're certain?" He asked, meeting the man's gaze, "It could have been planted. Poison in the food from a friend."

"Door was locked."

"They locked it behind them."

"She had her key, Ghira." Aspen sighed, "And she's one of the few suspects we couldn't rule out. She was the spy, and she knew we'd catch her, so she ate poison. This isn't the first spy we've had opt out."

"Yeah…" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "I want her burned tomorrow. Announce that she was the spy after."

"After?"

"Atlas must have forced her, somehow." He explained simply, "This makes her crimes theirs. I won't have her buried at sea for crimes she had no choice in. We will treat out people better than Atlas does."

They had to…

"I'll see it done." Aspen sighed, "Get back to bed before the wife worries."

"She's-"

"Sitting up waiting for you, and we both know it." Aspen cut him off and chuckled, "Now get."

With a tired, resigned sigh, Ghira did exactly that. Because he knew the Ranger probably was right.

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"Name, age, and gender?" Kali asked, sitting at one of a dozen desks lined up outside the administrations building on the square while new refugees filed in.

"A-Aqua Sera." The small, blue feathered Faunus murmured. She was a slight thing, with a crown of dark blue, red-tipped feathers that crept down to cradle her face and shoulders. Her clothes did nothing with that, though. She only had on the simple brown robes they gave everyone when they arrived, to replace what was usually ruined, ratty clothes with far too many bad memories attached. "I-I mean, Sera Aqua. I-I'm sorry, I used the Mistral style…"

"We use Mistral style too." She smiled, scratching her name out on the little card and asked, "Age and gender?"

"U-Um, twenty, and, uh, woman?"

"Got it." She handed the card up and pointed to another row of desks a few yards away, across the Square. "Head to that desk and present your card. They'll ask for career history and get you on your way."

"O-Oh." She blinked and took the little thing, smiled meekly, and said, "Thank you."

"Welcome to Menagerie." She said, watching the woman turn and then raising her voice and calling, "Next!"

She felt the shadow fall over her, but the woman spoke before she could ask for her details, "Sienna Khan, twenty two, woman."

"Sienna." Kali sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, and then without looking asked, "Why are you in the incoming line?"

"Technically, I am unemployed."

"Technically, you aren't a citizen, so killing you is legal."

"Oh, I love it when you're feisty." Kali finally looked at the smirking woman, glaring all the while, and Sienna waved her off. She slapped a piece of paper on the table in front of Kali and grunted, "Salvage manifest and casualty report, as requested."

"Casualties?" Normally, Sienna didn't include that part unless someone was actually on it. So to mention it…

"Two dead." Sienna explained quietly, "Vivian and Lars. Mistal took 'em both. My fault… I didn't realize we were headed into an ambush. I'll have the family letters to you by the morning. You'll pass them along?"

"Of course." Her job working in administrations made it easier to find people, so the two of them had always had a little agreement - Sienna would fill out Kali's paperwork requests, and Kali would handle actually processing everything.

Kali hadn't exactly known that meant the family letters, too, but…

Well, it was hard to argue when Sienna pointed out that Kali was, 'Just better at it than her.'

"If that's all, then-"

"It isn't." Sienna cut her off, leaned forward onto Kali's desk, and asked quietly, "I hear our rat problem was taken care of. That true?"

"It is."

"You don't seem happy…"

"She was barely twenty, and didn't seem a willing volunteer." Kali explained quietly, stomach turning at the topic. She pushed on, though, as always. "She killed herself. Poison. Ghira and I believe Atlas had a hostage, or something like it. I was… Actually hoping you'd look into it."

"I can try." She nodded, "Her name?"

"Amitolia."

"I'll ask around." Sienna promised, "There's one last thing, though. Atlas-"

"Is on its way." Kali sighed, "I know, they'll be here by week's end, I'm sure."

"No, Kali, they'll be here sooner than that." Sienna told her, voice low and grave. Kali's ears quirked, and her stomach fell as the woman went on, "Their ships were on the horizon right behind us the whole way home. We have a couple days at best, not a week."

"Find Ghira." Kali hissed, "Tell him. We need everyone processed and sheltered in the walls when they arrive."

"What about-"

"I need to help get everyone through this line." She snapped sharply, more than aware of how the other woman flinched. She felt guilty for it, but she knew Sienna would forgive her rudeness. They were both pragmatists, in the end, "Now move, please. Next!"

Sienna slipped out of line and vanished into the crow as a burly, hair-covered man lumbered up to her, and she asked, "Name, age, gender, please."

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"Menagerie is in sight now, Admiral Alabaster." His communications officer, and second officer at station, reported from the station nearest to his own seat on a raised platform at the rear of the bridge.

True enough, Alabaster could see the island as it grew closer in the viewing windows at the front of the bridge. It was just as squalid and primitive as it had been before, which was only made worse by the damage Atlas had done to the docks they'd so generously given them when the settlement was founded. A shame to have seen it fall, but then, he supposed the Faunus had earned it.

"Send the Mantle class to hold vigil over the settlement, and deploy strike fighters." He ordered simply, "I want locks on those wall-turrets. If they engage, annihilate them."

"Aye, Admiral."

While his command ship, one of Atlas' Solitas class sky-carriers, held its position out at sea and launched its wings of attack craft, the Mantle class escorts moved forward. The three of them formed a rough curve along the inside of Menagerie's burned and pock-marked wall, their heavy cannons unlocking and turning to watch them threateningly. And the turrets, wisely, kept their gazes fixed on the badlands beyond Menagerie.

Which was… Unfortunate for him.

If they would just attack him, then he could justify a policing action against the colony.

But, when nothing came, he sighed and said, "Order the wet-navy to land and deposit the animals, then."

"Aye, Admiral."

For the next hour and change, he watched the transports land through a small tablet connected camera mounted on the bottom hull of his ship. It was orderly and calm - his soldiers formed a perimeter on the beach while others oversaw the disembarking of the Faunus expellees. And searched them for any smuggled valuables they might have slipped through Ironwood's lax fingers, of course. Really, the man was a fool to let such a good source of wealth slip through his fingers, but who was he to judge?

After all, it did so much for his career - there were more than a few collectors in Atlas who enjoyed the Faunus' beastly art.

As the last Faunus trailed off the final transport, his second officer reported, "Sir, large contact reported by the Glory's Approach."

"Grimm?"

"Unknown, Admiral." He answered, "Laser Identification Reader only. RADAR is scrambled by the shields. Captain Crestfall is requesting permission to un-shield and identify target."

"Denied." He grunted, "It's on the ground, and it's got to be a Grimm. Both of which make it not our problem. Thermals?"

"Large, quadrupedal shape." His second officer reported - having doubtless already used their long range thermals to check it, or ordered one of the Mantle class escorts to do it for them. "Silhouette doesn't match known Grimm profiles."

"Ignore it." He sighed, "The Faunus can deal with it. Or die. It's not our concern."

"But, Admiral, the General-" The officer cut off suddenly, pressing a hand to his headset to hear better and then turned, barking, "Glory's Approach is detecting a laser-lock, Admiral. None of the wall-turrets have reoriented. Suspect that it's coming from the- Projectile's launching!"

"What?!" No Grimm could do that, he was sure. "Orient forward observation up, show me the fleet."

"Yes, Admir-" His second officer cut off again and gasped, "Damage confirmed - we've received a friendly hit. Decks breached."

"What?!"

His officer didn't respond, focusing on receiving reports from the ship, but he didn't need to answer. As his view-port rose, he could see the ships better. The furthest forward one, the Glory's Approach, was trailing smoke from the section near its engine. A massive cylinder sprouted from there and stuck out several yards, with a flat base like a rocket that trailed wispy smoke. As he watched, another deck further forward on the ship detonated outwards, spraying metal and, if his sight wasn't failing him, men out into the air to fall across the settlement.

"What in the gods' sight…"

"Sir, Glory's Approach reporting- reporting boarders, Admiral!"

"Yes, Admiral, they're-" The second officer stood, suddenly, and pointed out the view-port, "What are those?"

Admiral Alabaster followed his man's finger and nose as he realised what they were. Large figures, with spines along their backs and some sort of carapace that opened to reveal wings, were crawling along the outside of the Mantle class warship. Its point defences turned, spraying tracer fire across the figures, and Alabaster saw one tumble and fall, flailing, to the ground far below. The others, though, pulled the turrets apart as they crawled up the hull, hurling scraps and bodies away into the air as they worked. Some stopped to rip away the shield-relays antennae, until it sparked and finally failed, but even more peeled the hull back and slipped back inside.

Like insects carving into a corpse, looking for meat.

"Sir, they're in the Bridge-" Suddenly, the ship accelerated and turned at full burn, overclocking the safeties on the engines.

It caught the Protector of Law in the flank, and the ship bent at the center where its kin struck it. More turrets turned as the shield fell, disengaged or destroyed, Alabaster couldn't tell, and opened fire. On the ship, and on the massive machines emerging from more holes ripped in its hull. Several more fell, some flailing and others in pieces or merely still, but the few turrets it had couldn't defend it.

He watched the things crawl along it and then rip into its engines - and when they died, he watched the Protector of Law be carried off and down by the fallen ship, to crash into the jungled coast beyond the wall.

"R-Retreat!" He gasped, turning and pointing at is second officer, "Order a full withdrawal at all speeds."

"Yes, Admiral-" The man froze, and then reported, "Mantle's Approach reporting breach, Sir. they've been hit!"

"Then leave them and-"

"Mass detected on rapid approach!" His radar operator cut in, "Headed straight for us at high speed- I'm detecting a laser lock, Admiral, we need to-"

His entire ship shook violently as something struck it on its side, and suddenly his world existed at an angle. Several officers were thrown to the side and into terminals and the wall, cracking skulls, arms, and more among the less fortunate of the men and women. He managed to keep hold of his chair and dragged himself into it, struggling to get the security straps around himself to brace against the crash he knew was coming.

Then, something swung around in front of them.

It was long and narrow, with a barrel-shaped nose that sprayed short bursts of violet violence down, presumably, on the withdrawing wet-navy. Then it came back up and swung around again, coming straight towards them and firing purple flames as it boosted towards his ship. No…

Towards his bridge.

A moment before it struck, it shifted, somehow. Legs and arms sprouted as it seemed to spin in the air, transforming before his very eyes into a massive mech.

A mech that slammed into the front of his bridge at easily a hundred and forty kilometers an hour. Alabaster was thrown back from the force of the air alone, but his straps kept him safely in place. When he turned, the machine's hand was digging into the ceiling, holding its chest and arms inside the bridge while its bright, red eye roved across what was left of his deck crew.

Until it landed on him…

"You were the one to attack Menagerie."

"A-Attack?" He stammered, "N-No, never! I-I would never, I assure you! I'm just escorting-"

"I do not mean now." It rumbled, "I mean before. The first attack."

"N-No!" He gasped, slowly calming as the machine… Talked. It must have had a pilot, then, he was sure. And with a pilot that meant he could negotiate. Clearing his throat, he offered, "I-I'll be happy to answer your questions, but first, I need assurances."

"Assurances?"

"That you won't kill my crew." He said, adding in a feigned after-thought, "Or me, of course, uh, p-preferably."

"Very well." The pilot agreed, "I will not. Who attacked Menagerie?"

"General James Ironwood." He answered easily, relaxing now he knew he was safe.

"Where is he?"

"Atlas." He said, "I-If you like, I could… Pass on a message?"

"You will do so." It answered, then seemed to sigh, "He is not present. That is… A disappointment."

"I'm sorry?"

"Do not be. It would be a shameful last thing to feel." The pilot answered as more machines, smaller but each easily thrice as big as a man, crawled in from along its arms.

Each was large, with dark violet arms and black chests, and a large carapace back that hung off its shoulders like a stiff cloak. Their faces were flat and featureless, with a smooth plate covering where a man's mouth would be and red, soulless eyes. As the larger machine withdrew, they began to chitter and chuckle excitedly, flexing long, bladed fingers.

"W-Wait!" He called and, surprisingly, the machine did wait, turning to him. He chuckled and said, "Y-You said you'd spare us. That I would carry a message."

"I will not kill you. My Insecticons will." It answered coldly, filling Alabaster with ice as his crew scrambled back. "And you will - my Insecticons will dispatch your ship to crash at Atlas. The message is clear."

"Make a fool of me, and hurt those here," he said, "and you will bleed until you can no longer."

Without another word, it pushed out of the hole it had made and the 'Insecticons' leapt onto his crew. Some simply tore through his soldiers with their claws, but one grabbed a woman and lifted her up by her arms and legs, pulling her in two over its head in a spray of blood.

"Gods…" He murmured, yanking his release free and sprinting for the door. It hissed open as something struck his back and threw him into the hall. He looked over a shoulder and felt his stomach turn.

He shuffled the bottom half of his XO off and staggered up, turning to head down the hall, and bounced off metal. He lay on his back and looked up as the Insecticon stooped low over him, growling.

Quietly, he offered, "C-Can we… Make a deal?"

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Shockwave stood in the warm water and watched the smoking ship limp away as the last of his Insecticons leapt free, fluttering down towards the shore beyond the wall. He appreciated their uses, and had no shame for them, but they were aggressive creatures. And, covered in blood and smoke, he doubted they would fill Menagerie's people with comfort, to say the least.

And besides, he had several constructions sites that needed to be cleared for his construction projects.

He turned as he detected motion approaching him and nodded, "Ghira."

"Shockwave!" The shocked man called back, coming to a stumbling stop and sucking in deep breaths. "What- Where were you?"

"I swore to defend Menagerie." He answered calmly, "I left to prepare further for that."

"I-I can see that!"

"Good." He nodded, turning to watch the ship some more, "Because I intend to honor my word."

And no one would make a fool out of him again without knowing exactly what to expect.

"Yeah, uh, so…" Ghira coughed to clear his throat and then asked anxiously, "You fly now?"

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