Cholo Tales
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Two Wrongs Make a Right Ch. 21
🕑 Added 2024-10-23 17:52:59 +0000 UTCWith my objective obtained, there isn’t much to do for the rest of the night but wait for Trifa’s arrival and keep watch on everyone so they can properly rest and then we can all depart back to the base, a journey that thankfully proves uneventful. That quickly changes, however, when I realize I have a giant Squig-Grimm following me around. That is the reason I’m forced to separate from the group and open a portal to my Sweet Home, dragging the big bastard with me.
The demi-plane, it’s my sanctuary, the only truly 100% safe and private place in Remnant.
Which lands me here, perched on a wooden chair, watching the Grimm-Squig’s antics. Its massive form prances around, oversized tongue lolling out as it attempts to chase its long tail in dizzying circles. Then, as if realizing the futility of its pursuit, it plops down on its big ass before rolling around in a manner so comical it borders on absurd.
I would be laughing if it wasn’t so utterly baffling and intriguing. The sight before me is precisely why I’ve summoned Pod to conduct a more thorough analysis. Yet, the results are frustratingly unremarkable, save for the bind – my stamp on its tummy I placed months ago. It’s just... weird. Fascinatingly, maddeningly weird.
But it’s this weirdness that’s pushed me to go with the flow, to treat this Grimm like the overgrown puppy it’s apparently decided to be. Now comes the task of christening this bizarre creature.
“Gruk?” I offer, the name barely leaving my lips before the Squig’s attention snaps to me, only to shake its bulbous head in what seems like disapproval.
I stroke my chin, mind shuffling for a more fitting moniker. “Brutus.”
The response is immediate. Brutus barks in enthusiastic approval and resumes his energetic circuit around the yard. Yeah, it’s undeniably a dog, albeit one that could probably swallow a Beowolf whole.
To test my theory further, I spot a basketball conveniently lying in the yard. I snatch it up and lob it at Brutus, who perks up instantly. He charges after the ball, batting it around with a fervor that would put a normal dog to shame.
And then... he’s chewing it? I blink in disbelief.
What in the hell is that ball made of? It should have burst into rubber confetti the moment those massive jaws clamped down. But it is just being chewed on without any problems, which Brutus likes very much.
The ball finally emerges from the cavernous maw, now slick with a coat of sticky Grimm saliva. Brutus, undeterred, lunges for it again with puppyish enthusiasm. It’s a sight that’s strangely adorable, it’s that abstract adorable factor.
“Pod, keep an eye on him...” I pause, a realization striking me. Grimm are genderless, yet calling the squig a him feels fitting, hence the name. “Yeah, him. Hopefully, you’ll learn something. Maybe we both will.”
“UNDERSTOOD. RECORDING DATA IN PROGRESS.” Pod’s hoovers close to the big guy and keep a watchful eye just as ordered.
With that sorted, I make my way to the main entrance. One leap through the pulsing red vortex later, and I’m back in the familiar damp cave in Mistral.
From there, I make my way back to the outpost. A smile flashes behind my helmet as I see the visible improvements on the base, starting with the reinforced barricade. Wood still isn’t the best defense material, but for now, it’s a great step up.
Crossing through this new gate, I’m greeted by a sight that warms my heart. Gone are the ramshackle tents barely keeping out the elements, replaced by newly built barracks. The structures aren’t luxurious by any means, but they’re solid, with actual walls and roofs that don’t leak. I can see our people moving in and out, no longer hunched against the wind and rain that are very common in Mistral climate.
Perhaps the most welcome sight is the properly constructed bathroom. It’s a far cry from the hole in the dirt they ‘ve been using. While it still needs manual emptying - proper plumbing its still an issue even back in Menagerie - it offers privacy and basic hygiene. So this should fix a good portion of the health hazards.
The current ongoing project catches my eye - a cookhouse with a large communal table. I can already imagine the boost to morale this will bring. No more huddling around small controlled fires, using rocks or logs as seats while trying to cook individual meals. This will be a place for our people to gather, to share food and stories and reinforce bonds.
The builder, a burly man, is hard at work hammering nails before shouting instructions to his helpers. They quickly comply, fetching another tree trunk and depositing it before him. At this pace, it should be done by tomorrow.
With so many improvements, I can feel the high morale radiating from my men. It was already elevated after the successful mission and the rescue of our people, but now it’s soaring because of the better conditions.
Speaking of civilians, Triffa has been impressively efficient in her handling, not even needing a budget increase. She’ll be busy sending everyone to their respective homes, which is for the best.
I take another stroll around the base before heading straight to the command center. However, I arrive at a surprising sight: Fennec is already waiting for me. He doesn’t greet me, just fixes me with a serious expression, a file clutched in his hands. I curtly nod and follow him, sensing the need for confidentiality.
We move to another room on the first floor, one that desperately needs cleaning - dust has gathered thickly around us. But that’s beside the point.
“What happened?” I ask, cutting to the chase.
“Our scout team suffered a casualty,” he responds, equally direct.
I can’t help but narrow my eyes dangerously. “Who is responsible?”
How unlucky were they to encounter any hostile sides? Or which bastard took him out? I’ll repay with interest.
“We don’t know. It was a strange explosion that took our brother away,” Fennec shakes his head.
“An explosion? Did they step into a bobby trap? So that means Prometheus group or Mistral families. Atlas is too proud to use such tactics.” It’s the only logical conclusion, and the Mistral family has to be the Hitsui Family - they probably have planted too many traps for the war and forgotten about them.
“Yes, but no, High Leader. The explosion wasn’t caused by a trap. The scouting team managed to take pictures of the scene before retrieving the body.” He opens the file and hands me the photos. “As you can see, they reported that our brother stepped on the green substance. It turned red before exploding, unfortunately cutting his life short. It was instant.”
A strange green substance that spontaneously combusted? I scrutinize the picture in hand. The liquid looks eerily familiar, but from new memories.
I examine the other photos. The whole scene is filled with that liquid, with a charred crater where my soldier met his demise. They probably wrongly assumed it was an animal or plant secretion.
But I can’t learn much from a picture. I need a deeper analysis to draw decent conclusions.
I let out a sigh and hand the pictures back. “Make preparations to repatriate the body, and talk with his family if he has any. That’s the least he deserves. Cancel all scouting missions for today and brief them on this incident. We must avoid another occurrence like this.”
Not only to prevent unnecessary and completely avoidable deaths, but also to avoid drawing attention to our position.
Fennec stores the pictures back in the file and gives me a bow. “It will be done, High Leader.”
He leaves the room first, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I cross my arms, a sour taste forming in my mouth. A life has been lost - I’m not saddened or angry, just frustrated. Could this have been just an unfortunate accident?
Another sigh escapes me. Nothing can be done now but learn from this and prevent it from happening again. Perhaps with better protective gear, he might have survived - maimed, but alive. Eventually, I could have provided prosthetics to restore his old life...
Yeah, it sucks. It really sucks. But I won’t let this drag me down. We can only learn from mistakes after committing them. When I return to Menagerie, I’ll look into ways to improve their armor. They need standard issue armor or defensive gear.
Now, I need to investigate the incident.
“Pod, proceed to these coordinates and analyze the scene. Pay particular attention to the green liquid. Exercise caution - the substance is highly volatile and will detonate upon contact,” I instruct, connecting to issue new orders.
“AFFIRMATIVE. NEW MISSION PARAMETERS ACCEPTED. PROCEEDING TO DESIGNATED COORDINATES.”
With that handled, I finally leave the room and head to the second floor. I grab a chair, take a seat, and summon my notebook again. I need to keep studying; it’ll take my mind off things. I’m currently in the general laws section. Menagerie laws are still the same since neither I nor Sienna have changed any laws, which is good - it might have been a mess to correct them otherwise.
It’s crucial to learn more to correct or further specify the current laws. I really don’t want people exploiting loopholes or gray zones.
An hour passes in the blink of an eye. I’m only brought back when Pod calls again, signaling the completion of his task.
“REPORT: MISSION OBJECTIVES COMPLETE. TRANSMITTING DATA ANALYSIS AND VISUAL RECORDS.”
I receive the reports but dismiss the text data, focusing on the video feed. The volatile substance appears in much better detail, its slimy and viscous nature now apparent. Pod conducts a brief experiment, propelling a small rock into the slime. The reaction is immediate - the green hue shifts to yellow for a brief moment before igniting into a blazing red and detonating. As the smoke clears, only a charred crater remains.
That is extremely dangerous. Very fucking dangerous.
“ALERT: UNIDENTIFIED GRIMM TRACKS DETECTED. NO MATCH FOUND IN CURRENT GRIMM DATABASE,” Pod adds, triggering a sense of foreboding.
“Transmit visual data of the tracks.”
“AFFIRMATIVE. TRANSMITTING IMAGES.”
Soon after, I receive photos of large footprints with measurements. The sizes are big. Ridiculously big, almost...
Shit. Those are behemoth footprints.
Then the sticky explosive slime is from the behemoth. We’re dealing with a behemoth capable of causing explosions at will.
“Pod, priority mission. Utilize footprint data and all available information to track this Grimm. We’re dealing with a behemoth-class entity. Report immediately upon locating the target.”
“UNDERSTOOD. INITIATING PRIORITY TRACKING PROTOCOL.”
I cut the call and then switch to another, merging two channels.
“Kawakaze, Asanagi. Come to Mistral. Immediately.”
I end the call just as fast. I’ll need all the help I can get to end this threat.
No rest for the wicked, it seems.
------------------------------
-Winter-
Specialist Winter wiped her brow as Mistral’s jungle climate suffocated her, the humid air pressing against her like an unwelcome embrace. Her standard Atlas uniform, with its military-grade thermal regulators, felt more like a prison than protection. The climate-specific attire issued by the research and technology department before departing Atlas remained untouched in her quarters as a very grim and shameful remainder of her recent humiliation.
She’d learned the hard way that she was a beacon for Mistral’s particularly aggressive mosquitoes, creatures that somehow managed to bypass aura, because the damage they cause wouldn’t be seen as harmful hence the natural layer of protection wouldn’t activate, something she didn’t know or simply overlooked because she trusted her aura, unlike her subordinates were using plenty of repellent.
The memory of that morning still made her jaw clench – kicking her bed sheets only to find her skin mapped with angry red bites, her dignified composure shattered by an undignified scream that was heard everywhere. Worse still had been the looks of her subordinates and then the gossip that she tried to keep at a minimum.
Her glyphs hummed with pale blue energy, creating localized cooling fields around her body. A temporary solution, but one that helped maintain her rigid military bearing. The holographic map before her–a stark contrast to traditional paper scrolls–pulsed with data streams, its three-dimensional terrain rendering highlighting their search patterns. As she crossed off the eastern sector, the projection rippled, automated algorithms already recalculating search parameters for the remaining southern and western zones.
The Hitsui family’s downfall had been convenient, if unexpected. Their grip on Mistral’s underground had seemed unshakeable, especially after their unprovoked hostile actions against them, or at least until the Spider clan’s sudden rise to power. Lil Malachite’s subsequent diplomatic overture had proven surprisingly beneficial – their established trade networks now served as an emergency backup, though Winter’s lips tightened at the necessary evil of dealing with criminals, regardless of their businesslike facade.
More pressing was the Prometheus group, their mercenary band’s presence in the fishing village marked by their distinctive Atlas-made weaponry. Their peaceful overtures rang hollow – mercenaries never operated without profit motivation, and a new behemoth species could yield valuable research data that they would then sell at ridiculous markups to Atlas’ Military. Civilian casualties would be mere collateral damage in their ledgers.
Reason why she put a team that maintained a constant watch over their compound, and any movement they did. With Atlas’s most advanced anti-Grimm weapon already deployed, she couldn’t risk-
“SALUTATIONS, SPECIALIST WINTER! Your office temperature is exactly 3.2 degrees above optimal working conditions! Shall I adjust the environmental controls?”
The door burst open with enough force to strain its titanium reinforcements. Penny Polendina practically bounced into the room, her synthetic eyes glowing with their characteristic emerald enthusiasm. Several holographic displays sprouted around her, showing various environmental readings that she was apparently monitoring.
Winter suppressed a sigh, her expression softening almost imperceptibly. “Good afternoon, Penny. I assume you have a reason for...” she glanced at the damaged door frame, “...your loud entrance?”
“Oh yes! I’ve been running calculations all morning!” Penny spun in place, her combat boots leaving small scuff marks on the floor. “Did you know that your current work efficiency is operating at 87.2% of optimal parameters? That’s a 0.4% increase from yesterday! Though you really should consider implementing a more regulated breathing pattern–your current stress levels are-“
“Penny.” Winter’s tone was direct. The android’s earnest nature made it difficult to maintain her usual stern demeanor.
“Right! Sorry!” Penny’s smile somehow grew even wider. “I have important tactical information to share! Though I must admit, I’m also excited because I learned a new human interaction ritual called a ‘high five’ and I was hoping we could-“
“The tactical information first, if you please.” Winter met those bright green eyes with her own blue eyes. “Then we can discuss... recreational activities.”
She should have pressed more to get Penny’s handler to be deployed to the mission as well.
“Really?” Penny’s entire frame seemed to vibrate with joy. “I mean, ahem - proceeding with mission-critical data! My scanners have detected unusual seismic activities in both remaining sectors, but analysis suggests they’re most likely from normal tectonic plate movements rather than our target. However, I’m 87.3% certain that-“ Another hiccup interrupted her report, causing more sparks to dance around her collar.
Winter’s brow furrowed in barely concealed frustration. This was precisely why she had repeatedly requested Ciel Soleil's presence on this mission; she should have yelled instead of keeping a formal tone. The girl’s absence meant dealing with Penny’s worst quirks without intervention. “Is there anything concrete in your findings, Penny? Something that could actually help locate the behemoth?”
“Well...” Penny’s perpetual smile dimmed slightly. “Not exactly. But I’ve compiled a fascinating statistical analysis of local wildlife movement patterns! Though they seem unrelated to Grimm activity...” she trailed off, noticing Winter’s increasingly stern expression.
“I see.” Winter’s tone was clipped. She straightened her posture, hands clasped behind her back. “In the future, please ensure you have actionable intelligence before interrupting mission planning. Time is a resource we cannot waste, especially with a creature of this magnitude still unaccounted for.”
“Oh.” Penny’s shoulders drooped slightly, though her smile remained firmly in place. “Of course, Specialist Winter! I’ll recalibrate my parameters for data classification! And perhaps we could still try that high five-“
“That will be all, Penny.” Winter turned back to her holographic display, effectively dismissing the android. She made a mental note to submit another formal request to the General for Soleil’s deployment. Penny might be Atlas’s most advanced weapon, but without proper supervision, she was proving to be more of a distraction than an asset.
“Right! I’ll return to my patrol route then!” Penny saluted with mechanical precision, though her usual enthusiasm seemed slightly dampened. She turned to leave, then paused. “Oh, and Specialist Winter? I just noticed that your stress levels have suffered a recl-“
“Penny.“
“Leaving now!” The android practically skipped out of the room, the damaged door creaking in protest as she closed it.
Winter pinched the bridge of her nose, counting silently to ten. The Behemoth was still out there somewhere, and she had a responsibility to find it before it could threaten any settlements.
Still, she couldn’t believe why Atlas’ most powerful anti-Grimm weaponry had to be a…. special needs girl and Winter was forced to be the hapless nanny of said special needs girl.
Her internal complaints were cut short as her comm unit buzzed with an urgent notification. Winter immediately activated the secured channel. “Report.”
“Specialist Winter, surveillance team Delta here. The Prometheus group is mobilizing. Multiple vehicles leaving their compound, heavily armed. They’re heading southwest along the coastal road.”
Winter’s eyes narrowed as she studied the map. Southwest... that area hadn’t been properly searched yet. “Numbers and equipment?”
“Three armored trucks, ma’am. Military grade, likely Atlas surplus. Thermal scans show about twenty personnel, and they’re carrying heavy ordinance. Whatever they’re after, they’re geared for a major engagement.”
She frowned. She didn’t remember military grade trucks or heavy equipment from the initial reports but that didn’t matter at the moment.
“Or they found what we’re looking for,” Winter muttered, her mind already formulating plans. “Maintain surveillance, but do not engage. I’m mobilizing our forces now.”
She ended the transmission and quickly pulled up the command channel. If Prometheus had somehow located the behemoth... She couldn’t let mercenaries handle a threat of this magnitude. The collateral damage would be catastrophic.
And speaking of potential catastrophes... she’d have to bring Penny. Winter sighed heavily, already dreading the headache to come. “All units, this is Specialist Winter. Code Echo-Seven. Prepare for immediate deployment...”
“Should I ready myself for combat deployment, Specialist Winter?” Penny’s voice chirped through the comm system, causing Winter to grimace.
“Not yet. Await for further orders.”
“Okie-dokie!”
------------------------------
-Sienna Khan-
Sienna Khan was accustomed to handling mountains of paperwork from her years of service as Ghira’s right hand and then when led the White Fang, where every document could mean life or death for her operatives. The stack before her now, while substantial, felt almost mundane in comparison, especially that the majority was already handled by Adam a week in advance. Her amber eyes scanned the pages with ease, her head resting on her hand.
These documents, though less critical than mission reports or intelligence briefings, still held the future of Menagerie within their pages. Each one represented a life rescued from Mistral’s infamous plantations - her people, finally free from their chains. Although there were more plantations, it was a start which she approved a lot. As she cataloged their skills and assigned housing arrangements, it was impossible for anger to not simmer beneath her composed exterior at what they’d endured or what everyone was still enduring.
However, it was a specific detail that was shared in the profiles that caught her attention, making her ears flick forward in interest. Higher education.
City-born Faunus, every one of them.
The story was painfully familiar. “legitimate businessmen” offered help with one hand while holding chains in the other, trapping their victims in an inescapable web of debt that ended in the plantation fields, sweatshops, mines or worse. Even humans caught in poverty’s grip weren’t spared from this cruel machinery of exploitation, though her people bore its heaviest burdens thanks to the many laws and society norms.
She released a slow breath. At least now these skills would serve a greater purpose - building a safe nation for them.
Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her arms as she considered the broader implications. Menagerie had hemorrhaged talent for a very long time, watching their brightest minds and potential flee to the cities in desperate pursuit of opportunities denied them at home. Children left with dreams of sending riches or at least anything substantial back to their families, only to disappear into the ruthless meat grinder.
But now that wouldn’t be the case anymore. The past months had brought undeniable positive changes. Their expanding economy and rising standard of living had not only plugged that drain, but reversed its flow. The new port bustled with returning people, bringing their hard-won skills and experience back to strengthen their homeland.
Yet as she returned to the profiles, her expression hardened. They couldn’t build Menagerie’s future solely on the backs of returning exiles. True independence meant developing their own auto sufficiency just like Adam mentioned and for that they needed generations of skilled workers, crafters, and professionals.
Kali was already well aware of these concerns, having thrown herself into training new civil officers, and their training was close to finish so they could take positions, but the pace couldn’t match Menagerie’s growth. Sienna knew she needed to discuss reviving Ghira’s mandatory schooling initiative with her. The plan had been shelved after his tragic death, when their limited resources were diverted to handle the immediate crisis that followed his loss.
Now, with the growth and improvements, implementing the initiative seemed possible - though the teacher shortage would force them to start small. But small was still good enough.
Her thoughts of Kali triggered another realization, and Sienna’s hand drifted unconsciously to her stomach.
She was potentially carrying the next heir of Menagerie, and Kali had no idea she might soon be a grandmother… well, step-grandmother.
The secret weighed on Sienna; even if she currently didn’t have the best relationship with the woman, she still was an ally and friend and it felt wrong to not talk about this, especially knowing Kali would help her. But she’d given her word to remain silent for now.
Though her cycle wasn’t due for another week to finally confirm it, Sienna could hardly imagine she wasn’t already carrying after… that unforgettable night.
‘Scream from me’ Sienna let out another moan as his strong hand pinched her-
She quickly shook her head and focused again.
She hadn’t lied about wanting to solidify Adam’s position and unite the factions under their pseudo-monarchy - an heir would certainly accomplish that. But she was too much of a strategist not to recognize the protection carrying Adam’s child would grant her. If things ever soured again, the heir in her womb could become her strongest shield.
Lost in these thoughts, Sienna’s keen ears caught the sound of approaching footsteps - familiar ones that still made her tense slightly. The irony wasn’t lost on her as Kali Belladonna appeared at her office door, carrying her signature tea tray despite their strained relationship.
“Still working through all these papers?” Kali’s tone was cordial, but reserved. The tea tray, at least, was a peace offering of sorts - an old habit neither had fully abandoned.
Sienna straightened in her chair, careful to move her hand away from her stomach as she gestured for Kali to enter. “Some things haven’t changed,” she replied, keeping her voice neutral as she cleared a space on her desk.
As Kali set down the tray, her amber eyes caught sight of the profiles spread across Sienna’s desk. Her expression shifted - a flash of the old concern they used to share. “The Mistral refugees?”
“Yes.” Sienna accepted the offered cup, their fingers careful not to touch during the exchange. “Their backgrounds have brought up some matters we need to discuss.” She paused, choosing her next words carefully. “About Ghira’s education initiative.”
The mention of her late husband’s name still created a slight tension in Kali’s shoulders, but she didn’t flinch away from it anymore.
“His plans were always forward-thinking,” Kali replied after a moment, settling into the chair across from Sienna. Her posture was straight, dignified - every inch the former Chieftain’s wife who now served as an advisor to the current leadership. “Though I’m surprised you’re bringing this up now.”
Sienna took a sip of her tea before responding, noting how Kali still remembered exactly how she preferred it. Small gestures that survived their complicated history. “Look at these,” she said, sliding several profiles across the desk. “The skill levels we’re seeing among the rescued. It’s made me realize we can’t keep delaying proper education reforms.”
“The civil officer program isn’t enough,” Kali acknowledged, scanning the documents. “But you must be aware of the resources required...”
“We have them now,” Sienna countered. “And we have you already working on training programs. It’s time we expanded that vision.”
“Adam has approved this?” Kali asked carefully.
“Not yet.” Sienna’s fingers traced the rim of her teacup. “But he’s already approved the apprenticeship programs - first with the fishermen, then the builders.” She met Kali’s gaze directly. “Which is why I need your help to draft a proposal. Something concrete we can present to him.”
Kali raised an eyebrow, studying Sienna with that penetrating gaze that had always made her feel exposed. “You’re his right hand. Why do you need my help with this?”
“Because education was your domain before... everything,” Sienna replied carefully, mindful of the delicate ground they tread. “The existing framework from Ghira’s time is still solid. And,” she paused, allowing a hint of their old candor to surface, “you were always better at making proposals sound less… strict.”
A ghost of a smile touched Kali’s lips. “You mean I’m diplomatic.”
An infectious smile that she couldn’t help but reciprocate as well. “Yes.”
And Kali giggled in response that she soon followed.
But having her in front of her, she couldn’t help but think what would be her reaction once she learned the truth?
------------------------------
-Adam Taurus-
“The rigging’s functionality on land will be severely compromised. Our mobility will be reduced to zero once deployed.” Kawakaze delivers her assessment coldly, her voice carrying its usual professional detachment.
“Ugh, deploying on dirt? Do you have any idea what that’ll do to our equipment? And my clothes!” Asanagi protests, stamping her foot. “Though... I suppose if you really need my power, Commander...”
“A defensive formation around them would be necessary,” Corsac observes, his tone measured and formal. “Our brothers and sisters are well-equipped for such a task.”
“Indeed, brother. This strategy would provide the optimal balance of protection and firepower,” Fennec adds, sharing a knowing look with his twin.
“I understand the risks, but without heavy equipment, this is our best option against a behemoth,” I say, considering each angle carefully.
The shipgirls’ cannons weren’t designed for artillery fire, which means they need to be close to deal significant damage. Then I can use my semblance to land the killing blow once it’s weakened enough. Not ideal, but we work with what we have.
“It will be a large mobilization. We need to be careful or we’ll bring attention to ourselves.”
“I agree with your concerns. It would be prudent to deploy small teams on a schedule, all converging on a meeting point. This should mitigate the possibility of exposure.”
“COMMANDER TAURUS.”
I freeze at Pod’s voice, taking a step back and leaving the room making sure to close the door behind me. The planning won’t pause for this - they know what needs to be done.
“Good news or bad news?”
“BEHEMOTH LOCATED SOUTH WEST. TARGET IS CURRENTLY MOBILE, HEADING NORTH.”
The image Pod transmits is taken from a relatively close distance. The creature is massive, but what draws my attention immediately is its glowing, green slime-covered bulbous horn and “fists.” My gaze moves to the large and thick bone armor/hide covering most of its body, then to those two blazing red eyes.
This is sooner than expected, but I won’t back down and so I slam open the door.
“We found the behemoth. Start deployment.”
I have a battle to win.
