//------------------------------//
// Historic Moment 
// Story: SAPR 
// by Scipio Smith 
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Historic Moment


Even after several months in Atlas, Blake still didn’t entirely understand why Atlas – or at least the parts of it that she was becoming most familiar with – seemed to like its spaces large but largely bare. Weiss had suggested that the very fact of being able to waste so much space was, in itself, a sign of luxury. That was an alien way of thinking to Blake, having grown up between cramped White Fang encampments – and that had been true even when her parents had been running the movement – and the almost-as-overcrowded confines of Kuo Kuana, but she supposed that Weiss would know.
It still felt strange to her to have so much room you were not doing anything with. It felt a little like denying yourself luxury – the luxury of all the things you might put in or do with that space – in order to flaunt your luxury. 
Still, in this particular case it was probably a good thing that the room was large and bare and mostly empty: it left a lot of room for visitors and the press. 
Blake, flanked by Twilight and Weiss, stood in one corner of the large grey room, on the side of said room that faced the door. On the other side the entire wall was in fact a series of windows from floor to ceiling that looked out across the vistas of Atlas, from the streets below to the airships floating by above. 
A table sat more or less in the middle of the spacious chamber, with Blake’s mother standing on one side of it while General Ironwood and Councillors Cadenza and Brown stood on the other. The document, the historic treaty that they were gathered in this room to sign with the press and dignitaries and special guests in attendance, sat in the centre of the table, equidistant between the two of them. 
It wasn’t a perfect sight – the fact that Councillors Sleet and Camilla had both opted to sign the treaty alone in a dark room in an attempt to escape being publicly associated with it was a little troubling, while Councillor Bradley had signed from his hospital bed, having been too ill to attend today’s ceremony – but in spite of the fact that not everyone in Atlas was in favour of this moment as Blake stood in the crowd and watched she felt a surge of hope like she hadn’t felt since…honestly, since Sienna Khan had replaced her father as leader of the White Fang and it had felt – and Blake had been far from the only person to think this – that they might finally be on the verge of getting something done. 
Hopefully the promise of this moment didn’t turn out to be as illusory as that had turned out to be.
Kali reached down and picked up the pen that lay on the table. She looked at it for a moment, and then looked at the crowd watching. Her eyes found Blake, and a slight smile crossed her features. The flashes of the camera apps illuminated her face as Kali took a step forward, away from the table. 
“Nearly eighty years ago,” she said. “The first faunus came to Menagerie hoping to build a new community, free from slavery, prejudice and oppression; a community where they could live with dignity and equality, and not be thought less than any other man. It has been a long road since then, and not without a few bumps along the way, but I consider this historic moment to be a continuation of the hopes and dreams of those first settlers, as Menagerie takes its place amongst the family of nations. On this day we stand with dignity and equality amongst our older siblings and as four kingdoms become five we vow to play our part in fostering peace, unity and security throughout the world.” She stepped back, and bent over the table to place her signature upon the treaty. “We now take our place in the sun.”
Blake began to applaud a split second before the rest of the crowd began – some politely, some with more enthusiasm – to do so. It had been a while since she had heard her mother speak politically like that, and she found that she appreciated it better than she had when she’d been a child. She appreciated the substance of what her mother had just done better than she’d understood things when she’d been a child, too. The treaty to which Kali Belladonna had just, on behalf of Menagerie, put her signature – her father had signed it too, back on Menagerie, although in his case this was not because he didn’t want to be seen signing it but because he couldn’t leave Menagerie to come to Atlas any more than the entire Atlas council could go to him – was the result of months of negotiations. Kali and Councillor Cadenza had travelled back and forth between Menagerie and Atlas – with the CCT down there was no other way to communicate but face to face – hammering out the details with Dad and with the Atlas Council before they had something that they were both willing to present to the world. 
As a result of this treaty, once the signatures of all the Atlesian councillors were placed alongside those of the Belladonnas, Atlas became the first kingdom to recognise Menagerie as a sovereign kingdom in its own right, pledged to exert diplomatic pressure on the other kingdoms to follow suit, and to champion the admission of Menagerie to international bodies like the Vytal Commission, which would give Menagerie the right – or impose on them the duty, depending on how you looked at it – of hosting the Vytal Festival every ten years.
Councillor Cadenza – a baby bump clearly visible, straining slightly at her fuschia pink jacket - was speaking now, having just set her own signature upon the document. “Chieftainess Belladonna reminds us all that it was after the Great War that the first faunus settlers, freed from bondage, set sail upon a perilous journey to find a land that they could call their own, to live in freedom and enjoy their own laws. It was also in the wake of the Great War that Atlas bestowed upon the world the gift of the Cross Continental Transmit network, and the four splendid towers that anchored it, as a sign that we had renounced our former ways and wished to embrace our fellow kingdoms as friends and equals. And it is fitting that, as Chieftainess Belladonna completes the work of those first faunus, we in Atlas bestow upon our new friend and ally that same gift: a connection to the CCT. And, following the sterling work by our technical experts in re-establishing communications to Mantle and all our settlements on Solitas, I am confident that the CCT network will soon be functioning once more.”
She did not say ‘functioning everywhere except Vale’, because that would have brought down the mood of the occasion, but it did not make it any less true. Blake was optimistic of this development and of all that might result from it but she wasn’t so naïve as to be blind to the fact that Atlas’s enthusiasm for building a CCT tower on Menagerie owed something to the fact that there was no enthusiasm in Vale for getting their tower repaired. Blake didn’t know whether Atlas had made overtures to Vale and been rebuffed, or concluded from Valish silence that they didn’t want Atlas’ help – she enjoyed General Ironwood’s trust in certain respects but that didn’t mean he told her everything – but either way the result was the same: Atlas was looking to Menagerie now, instead of Vale. They were even funding the construction of the tower themselves – not even loaning Menagerie the money that it didn’t have, just bearing the costs outright – in their eagerness to get to work. 
In a similar vein, Atlas had also agreed to invest in the establishment of a Huntsman Academy on Menagerie, though it would probably be quite a modest one at first but the mere fact that Menagerie would have an academy of its own was something that Blake would have considered a pipe dream not too long ago. 
A tower, an academy…Menagerie would soon have all the accoutrements of a ‘real’ kingdom, as it stood at last acknowledged as that which it had always been. 
The treaty that her parents had negotiated was not perfect; the joint commitment to ending discrimination based on race existed only in the political declaration, which had no legal force – but on the other hand the Atlesians hadn’t gotten the condemnation of the White Fang that they wanted either, only a rather watery condemnation of all forms of political violence – but it was a monumental achievement nonetheless, and just the beginning. Once the Menagerie tower was completed then further talks would begin, at a greatly expedited pace, with a focus on trade and the investment that Menagerie so badly needed. It was more than had been achieved by all of Sienna Khan’s violence or, Blake had to admit, all of her parents' prior activism until five years ago. 
It was a pity that it took fighting and bloodshed on a scale unseen since the end of the Faunus Revolution to bring about such a radical shift in the state of the world, but for better or worse the battle had been fought and the dead had perished and wishing that it had not been so would not give Flash Sentry back his leg, would not summon the jewels of Atlas out of their graves, would not restore Beacon Tower or bring Professor Ozpin back to life; the world had changed, and the faunus had an opportunity to improve their lot in consequence of that change. They had an obligation to their posterity to take it. 
General Ironwood was the next to sign the treaty – he did not make a speech – followed by Councillors Brown and Wistia, each of them setting their names down on the front page before joining her mother for a posed photo-op behind the table, the historic treaty sitting in front of them. They stood there for perhaps a minute or two, wearing polite smiles which, in the case of General Ironwood especially, became somewhat strained as the seconds ticked by and the lights flashed from the scrolls into their faces. 
Then it was time for questions from the press.
“What happens now?”
General Ironwood cleared his throat. “Chieftainess Belladonna will now return to Menagerie aboard the Atlesian cruiser Fearless, accompanied by a company of unarmed CBs who will begin immediate construction of the Menagerie CCT tower.”
“Unarmed? You mean they’ll have no weapons with them?”
“That is what unarmed means, correct,” General Ironwood said, an edge of impatience in his voice.
“Under the terms of this agreement,” Councillor Cadenza said. “There will be no Altesian military presence on Menagerie. This is not an imperialist venture on our part, nor a way of establishing a fortress on foreign soil. Atlas has never deployed its armed forces within other kingdoms without their leave and express permission, and it is not about to begin now.”
“But aren’t the CBs military personnel?”
“That might be true, in a technical sense,” Kali said. “But they will be coming to Menagerie not as soldiers but as technicians and engineers.” She smiled. “The reputation of the Atlesian navy’s construction specialists spreads far and wide, and I can’t think of anyone better suited to help us join the Cross Continental network.”
Nicely done, Mom, Blake thought. She had noticed since coming to Atlas that the Atlesians were a people whose pride sometimes crossed the line into vanity, and were far from impervious to sops to that same vanity.
“If this is an unarmed expedition why is it travelling aboard a warship?”
“Because it’s a long way to Menagerie and we don’t want everyone to get eaten by Nevermores before they arrive,” General Ironwood said, and the hint of impatience had become clear and obvious to everyone. 
“What about the White Fang? Won’t the construction be in danger from attack?”
“We recognise the concerns of our Atlesian partners in that regard,” Kali declared. “Which is why Menagerie has undertaken to provide security for the construction site and everyone involved in it by our own law-enforcement.”
It’s lucky that none of these people have ever been to Menagerie or you might not get away with that, Blake thought. Her parents didn’t keep a huge number of guards, certainly they were far fewer in number than the forces available to the White Fang. If  Sienna decided to destroy the nascent tower it was hard to imagine that she could be stopped. Which meant that her parents – and the Atlesians, presumably – had to have good reason for thinking that the White Fang wouldn’t do just that. Perhaps she could find out what those reasons were before her mother left. 
“When is the tower going to become operational?”
“That’s impossible to say with certainty at this point, but we’re confident that essential functions will be up and running within a year,” Councillor Cadenza said.
“What about those who say that this is a waste of money that could be better spent on our own citizens?”
“I think that a great many of our own citizens are as eager to see the CCT network restored as I am, and I’m confident that the entire kingdom will see the benefits once it is operational again,” Councillor Cadenza replied.
“And do you have any comment on the criticisms that Jacques Schnee has levelled at this treaty?”
“I haven’t seen any specific criticism by Mister Schnee,” Councillor Cadenza said. “If there are no further questions-“
“Chieftainess Belladonna, isn’t it true that your daughter is a Specialist in the Atlesian military?”
“That is correct,” Kali said, drawing her shoulders back just a little. “In fact she’s in this room today.” She gestured towards Blake, who blinked from the flashing lights of a dozen pictures of her suddenly being taken.
Thanks, Mom.
“And how does your daughter serving in a foreign military make you feel?”
Kali looked into Blake’s eyes. She didn’t glance at any of the scrolls functioning as cameras, nor at the reporter who had asked the question. She only looked at Blake. “My daughter,” she said. “Blake has chosen a career which is filled with unimaginable peril, and as her mother that terrifies me. But she has also chosen a career in which she is able to help those who are most in need of aid; a path in which she brings hope to the hopeless, succour to the vulnerable, and light into darkness; and as her mother I couldn’t be more proud of her for that.”
Blake’s ears drooped to her head as she felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
That was the end of the questions, and after a few more pictures were taken of Kali shaking hands with each of the Atlesian councillors, the event broke up and all of the reporters and photographers were ushered out of the room by Atlesian androids, as the Atlesian councillors departed. Blake came to attention and saluted General Ironwood as he walked by.
“Belladonna,” General Ironwood said, returning her salute and giving her a nod of acknowledgement.
Blake returned to a more casual stance as soon as he had left the room, which meant that she was not standing at attention when her mother approached her. 
“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you back there,” Kali said. “It wasn’t my intent.”
Blake’s eyebrows rose. “You told the entire Kingdom of Atlas that you couldn’t be more proud of me and you didn’t want to embarrass me?”
“I told the truth,” Kali said, as she reached out and took Blake’s hands in her own. “I know that I can’t claim any credit for it, after the way that your father and I abandoned you, but I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become. In fact, the fact that you did it on your own without our help just makes me prouder.”
“I didn’t do it all by myself,” Blake said. “I had the help of some good friends on the way.”
“And I’m very glad of that, too,” Kali said. She looked at Twilight, and her tone was warm as she said, “Twilight Sparkle, it’s good to see you again.”
“Likewise, Chieftainess,” Twilight said. “Congratulations on everything that you’ve accomplished.”
“Thank you, Twilight,” Kali said, before turning her attention to Weiss. “Forgive me, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”
Blake cleared her throat. “Mom, this is-”
Weiss offered a pitch-perfect curtsy. “Weiss Schnee, milady. It’s an honour to meet you.”
“Weiss...Schnee?” Kali repeated, unable to keep the dubiousness out of her voice even if she had been trying.
Weiss was able to pick up on that as well as Blake, clearly. “I’m not my father, Chieftainess,” she said. “I was not born guilty of his crimes, nor do I share his attitudes.”
Kali was silent for a moment, looking searchingly into Weiss’ eyes, although what she was searching for Blake couldn’t tell. “Of course,” she said. “Forgive me, but...I don’t know what’s more strange, a Schnee standing beside my daughter or telling...well, a faunus that they’re honoured to meet her.”
“My father’s attitude,” Weiss said. “Not mine. Although...it would be naive of me to pretend that I don’t understand why you feel that way. Nevertheless it is an honour to meet you. Blake...has been a very good friend to me these past few months.”
“We’ve been good friends to one another,” Blake said.
“A Belladonna and a Schnee? The world might just be changing after all,” Kali said, the wariness in her tone giving way to a degree of amusement. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Weiss Schnee; but, if you’ll excuse me…”
“Of course,” Weiss said. “We’ll leave you to it. Blake.”
“Goodbye, Weiss. Twilight.”
“Goodbye Blake,” Twilight said, as the two of them took their leave and left Blake alone with her mother. 
“Weiss Schnee?”
“She’s not what I thought she’d be,” Blake said. “In the same way that Atlas isn’t what I thought it would be. Nothing...nothing has turned out to be how I imagined them when I was in the White Fang. Back then I thought that so many people and things were as black as night, as wretched as the grimm...but that was our own darkness I was painting others in, and all the while...it took me so long to see the light.”
“There’s no shame in making mistakes, so long as you can learn from them in future,” Kali said. “I’m just glad that you’re making friends here. Speaking of which, how’s Rainbow Dash? I haven’t seen her since I got here.”
“I haven’t seen much of her myself,” Blake said softly. Although they were room-mates together in Atlas Academy, Rainbow had been pretty much a stranger to her for a couple of weeks now, ever since…Blake actually didn’t know what had happened because Rainbow was never around for long enough to tell her, but something had happened fairly recently – not long after graduation, although Rainbow had been acting a little strangely even before that. There’d been that incident at the party, and then she’d gone to see General Ironwood and come back…changed. “I’m a little worried about her.”
Kali frowned. “Worried? How? And why?”
“I’m not quite sure,” Blake admitted. “But she’s not the same as she used to be. She yelled at one of her friends, and I know that I haven’t known her that long but even those who have agreed that it wasn’t like her to do that. She gets up and leaves the room before I do, and doesn’t come back until after I’ve gone to bed. And that might actually make me the person who sees the most of her. She’s been ghosting her friends, they never see her anymore. Some of them are quite upset about it. I’d like to help but I don’t know what I should do…or if I should do anything.”
“I understand,” Kali said. “I…I can’t tell you what to do about this. I’ve only spoken to her once, and anyway I’m hardly in any position to start giving you advice now. Whatever you decide to do, I’m sure you’ll make the right choice. But, if you do see Rainbow Dash, will you please give her this?” She handed Blake a letter, in a slightly crumpled envelope with RAINBOW DASH scrawled across it in untidy block capitals. “It’s from Gilda, I said that I’d try and deliver it.”
Blake nodded. “I’ll do what I can. What’s it like, having a former member of the White Fang as one of Dad’s guards?”
“She’s not the only one,” Kali said.
Blake was surprised at that, but after a moment decided that she probably should have expected it. “Does it ever worry you?”
Kali shook her head. “Whatever they were, they’re loyal to your father now. He trusts them, and so do I. Not that it’s something that we frequently discuss, you understand. In fact it’s an unofficial rule amongst the guards not to talk about their pasts too much. It’s easier for everyone that way.”
“I see,” Blake said. “It’s sort of like that here as well. For me, anyway. Everyone Is very considerate.”
“Everyone?”
“Everyone who matters,” Blake clarified. “Everyone whose opinion I care about.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Kali said. “Will you come and see me off?”
“Of course,” Blake said, and together the two of them left the room and headed for the elevator down to the ground floor and the exit from the Council Hall. They had the elevator all to themselves. Neon blue lights flashed at intervals around the circular elevator car as it descended. 
“You gave a good speech,” Blake said. “I haven’t heard you speak like that…for a while. I think I appreciate it more than I did then.”
Kali chuckled. “That’s just because you can understand all the words I use.”
“No, it isn’t that,” Blake said. “It’s that…I appreciate what you and Dad were trying to do back then more than I did at the time. I appreciate that…slow progress is still progress. I didn’t get that before.”
“You were a child then,” Kali said. “Other faunus much older than you made the same mistake. Besides, it wasn’t as if we made a lot of progress.”
“You have now,” Blake said. “What you’ve done is…incredible, and so quickly. It’s…it’s a great start, like I would never have imagined. Are you proud of yourself?”
Kali hesitated for a moment. “Yes,” she said. “If it doesn’t make me seem too conceited.”
Blake shook her head. “You should be proud of yourself, and so should Dad. I…I couldn’t be prouder of both of you.”
Kali laughed as the elevator completed its descent, and opened up to reveal the lobby waiting for them beyond. 
“Every time I come here I’m surprised that you’re here for me to see you,” Kali said, as the two of them walked out, heading across the crowded lobby, weaving between the stately and slow-moving androids and the harassed aides running back and forth as the pair walked towards the exit. “Doesn’t General Ironwood know what to do with you?”
“I don’t think General Ironwood is quite sure what to do,” Blake admitted. “Once we get the CCT back online we can find out what’s really going on in Mistral and Vacuo. Right now there are more rumours going around than facts.”
“Are you finding wearing that uniform a little more boring than you expected?”
“This isn’t actually a uniform,” Blake said, one hand going reflexively to her tie. “Or at least, we’re given a lot of discretion over what the uniform can be.”
Although she had to admit that her outfit was heavily based on the Atlas academy students uniform, albeit with the colours changed a bit because grey wasn’t really her colour while black definitely was; hence she was wearing a white shirt with a black tie, a black waistcoat and matching black trousers; she probably would have looked like she was on her way to the office if it weren’t for the long white tailcoat and descended behind her almost down to her boots. 
“It looks good on you,” Kali said. “I like it.”
Blake smiled out of one corner of her mouth. “Thanks, Mom.”
The glass doors opened for them automatically and they walked down the steps towards the road, where an official car in Atlas white was waiting for them under the stewardship of an android valet, whose body – slightly more boxy than the military androids – was painted red. The robot scanned Kali’s face, and nodded as it opened the door for her. 
Blake climbed into the luxurious interior of the vehicle, and the door was closed behind them before the car began to move, it’s hover-engine purring softly as it conveyed them through the city. 
“You didn’t answer my question,” Kali said, leaning back in her seat and stapling her fingers. “Are you bored?”
“General Ironwood hasn’t given me a job yet, but I’m keeping myself busy,” Blake said. “There’s always something on the job board, and if it seems like I’m always here that’s because...well, the General lets me know when you’re next expected in Atlas, and I make sure that I’m back for that.”
“I’m glad,” Kali said. “I sometimes think that even if these talks were getting nowhere it would be worth it to have an excuse to come up and see you. What kind of missions are you taking on?”
“I try and stay around Atlas when I can,” Blake said “And if there’s a mission in Low Town then I’ll take it. They need more help than hunting down any grimm who wanders into the slums, but that’s the best way that I can help them personally, so that’s what I do.”
Kali nodded. “Hopefully, as relations between Menagerie and Atlas improve so will the lot of those poor people, beneath Atlas and in Mantle. If we hope to start our own mining operations then we’ll need people with mining experience. Do you think that they’d consider moving to Menagerie?”
“I’m sure a lot of them would, if they thought there was a livelihood waiting for them at the end,” Blake replied. Mining work would always be difficult and dangerous, but it didn’t have to be so dangerous or so poorly rewarded as it was in the SDCs mines.
“Are you sticking with missions that put you around faunus, because...are you having any trouble?”
“I’m sticking with missions that are local because I don’t want to be too far away for too long so I can’t make it back, and I often go to Low Town because somebody needs to care about those people. It’s not about me, Mom; like I said, nobody that I care about has given me any problems because of what I am.” Blake said, “Plus...I like being able to do a job and then come...home, for want of a better word, at the end of it. For a little while, anyway. I’m sure that the general will give me an official assignment soon, and when he does it’s likely to be long term and…hectic,” she settled on a word that hopefully didn’t seem too alarming. “In the meantime - between the jobs off the board, I mean - I can get to know the city, spend some time with Twilight and Weiss…I came to this city to fight for what was right but I’m under no illusions. The fighting is going to come, so I’m taking advantage of the fact that it’s not here yet.”
“I’m glad to see you’re taking a sensible attitude to these things,” Kali said.
“I don’t love the fight for its own sake, Mom,” Blake said. “I never did. Only for what we’re fighting for.”
Kali nodded silently. “And how are you finding the city in the clouds?”
“It’s not perfect, but where is?” Blake said. “I can see why Ilia was so enamoured with it.” She frowned. “Are you sure this is going to be safe?”
Kali chuckled. “I feel perfectly safe with you here.”
“Mom,” Blake said earnestly. “You know what I meant. You know that Dad doesn’t have enough guards to protect the construction of the tower if the White Fang decides to disrupt it.”
“Your father doesn’t have enough guards to protect us if the White Fang decided to move against us,” Kali admitted candidly. “But they won’t, and they won’t disrupt the tower either.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because Sienna came to see us and told us so.”
Blake boggled. “Sienna Khan…came to see you? After what happened in Vale?”
“You can’t deny that she’s audacious.”
“That’s a polite way of putting it,” Blake muttered. “When was this?”
“Cadance’s first visit,” Kali said. “She – Sienna – was concerned about the presence of an Atlesian man of war in the harbour.”
“I can’t imagine she was thrilled to see an Atlesian councillor in your house either,” Blake said.
“Fortunately she didn’t call until after Cadance had retired to her ship,” Kali said.
“Fortunately,” Blake repeated. “Or she had Ilia watching the house to tell her when the councillor had gone and it was safe for her to come by.”
“Also a possibility,” Kali conceded. “Anyway, although she wasn’t thrilled about any of this-“
“That sounds like an understatement,” Blake said.
“In the end she accepted that this tower will be a good thing for all of Menagerie,” Kali said. “She won’t stand in its way.”
Blake supposed that she could see the logic in that: it would be a hard sell to explain to the faunus in Menagerie how they were being helped by the White Fang sabotaging efforts to integrate them more closely with the rest of the world and make Menagerie more prosperous. All the same, her misgivings were not so easily dismissed. “Will the rest of the White Fang see it the same way?”
“I don’t know,” Kali said. “We’ll just have to hope that Sienna can keep them in live even if they disagree with her.”
And that she’s more successful at containing dissent at her leadership than Dad was when she was the one stirring the pot, Blake thought. But there was nothing that she or her parents or anyone else could do about that; nothing except, ironically, trust in Sienna Khan to keep her grip upon the White Fang. 
The car conveyed them to one of the numerous docking pads around the edge of the floating city, where the cruiser Fearless was waiting, sat on the circular bay while androids and personnel loaded large, heavy-looking crates and boxes into the cargo bay. 
The car door opened, exposing the two of them to the brisk air of Atlas and to the shouts of the NCOs directing the loading that filled said air as the ship made its final preparations. An officer – a major, judging by the rank insignia on his shoulders that Blake was getting better at recognising, which made him the officer commanding of a ship this size – was waiting for her.
“Chieftainess,” he said. “We’re almost ready to depart.”
“Thank you, Major,” Kali said. She turned to Blake, and embraced her. “Be careful.”
Blake returned the hug. “You too, Mom.”
Kali chuckled. “You’re the huntress, so why do you sound as worried about me as I am about you.”
“I know who’s got my back,” Blake said. “Who’s got you and Dad’s?”
Kali smiled softly. “We’ve got one another’s.” She took a step back. “Stay safe, my baby girl. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom,” Blake said. She glanced at the waiting major. “Take good care of her.”
“Don’t worry, Specialist; the Fearless always comes through and she always looks after us. Like our motto: the name says it all.”
Blake nodded. “Call me,” she said. “When the tower’s built.”
“We will,” Kali promised. 
Blake watched as she walked away, side by side with the ship’s commanding officer, heading towards the great black form of the Atlesian man of war as it sat squat upon the docking pad like some kind of slumbering beast with its tongue hanging out and its jaw open enough to swallow the little insect-like forms that scurried around it. As Blake watched, it swallowed her mother too, as the major commanding escorted her up a personnel ramp away from the hustle and bustle around the cargo hold. Kali turned on the verge of entering the ship, and waved to Blake. Blake waved back, and then Kali entered the ship and was out of her sight. 
Blake, noticing in an offhand manner that the official car that she and her mother had taken to get here had driven off at some point during their conversation, retreated a short distance into a glass-walled observation booth where anyone who wished could observe the departure of ships from the docking bay without being at risk of blowback from the mighty engines of the great vessels. And there she waited; she waited and she watched as all the final preparations were complete and all the last personnel scurried aboard as the androids attached to the docking bay itself marched or rolled away lest they be damaged by the takeoff, while Blake kept her eyes fixed upon the cruiser. 
The great beast stirred to life. The engines of the Fearless roared as the ship began to rise, slowly at first but with increasing speed with every moment that passed, off the docking pad. It turned, and Blake had to shield her eyes from the bright light of the engines’ drive plumes so that she could see the warship begin its long journey, flying away from Atlas on a course for the far side of the world.
It only became easier to look as the ship became smaller and smaller, but Blake stayed where she was nevertheless, watching as the cruiser became little more than a dark speck upon the blue sky. Still she waited, and still she watched, until she could no longer see it at all. 
“Good luck, Mom,” Blake whispered, as at last she turned away and began to walk slowly back towards the towering spire of Atlas Academy.