Chapter Text
"I can't believe they did this," Mavuika says angrily, glaring at the newspaper. "It's an open invitation to corruption, and that was enough of a problem already."
"Politicians are selling our future every day," Hine says, with all the passion of a university student. "We need to change the system."
"If only it were that simple," Jean sighs. "In order to do that you would need to get people into positions of power without their having been corrupted by the process of getting there."
"This country has been sold to the military-industrial complex," Hine says hotly.
Xilonen raises an eyebrow.
"Now, now, honey," Dad says. "Your sister married the military-industrial complex before you were even born. If the military-industrial complex ran the country it would be run much, much better."
Xilonen smiles.
"So maybe it should," Razor says.
Xilonen frowns. "I have not spent twenty years telling corrupt politicians to bite me to start doing corruption now."
"No, of course not. But what if you took over the government?"
"You mean start a political party?" Lisa asks.
"No, if you're trying to get a majority in Parliament you would need too many trustworthy candidates. But the President directs a lot of policy, especially for elections at the sub-presidential levels."
Xilonen blinks. "I see your thinking," she says. "Mavuika for president?"
He nods. "And Dad for vice president."
"Independents, obviously," Xilonen nods.
"Independents don't get anywhere," Jean says.
"Historically, no." Lisa leans forward. "But they've just removed pretty much all limits on campaign financing. If Xilonen and I are backing you financially you can have more funding than the major parties."
"You'll need a campaign staff," Dad says.
"We'll call the girls." Xilonen nods.
"They haven't said they'll do it," Hine points out.
"Of course they will," Klee says. "It's a matter of public service for the sake of all of our futures. If they didn't they'd have to explain why not. To us and to the kids."
Jean and Mavuika exchange a look.
"I don't see how we can say no," Mavuika says slowly. "Are we sure we want it that way around?"
"Definitely," Jean says.
~
One family dinner is all it took, apparently.
Mavuika and Jean are both stepping down as CEO and COO of LXI to run for office. It's kind of a giant hassle at the company because they're having to replace them. They're bringing in Kokomi as CEO and Candace as COO, because they're kind of critical as far as positions of trust go and the people who already work for them who would usually sub in for Mavuika and Jean are joining the campaign too.
Their friends are coming in fast.
Yae Miko will be an amazing press secretary. Furina is on board as a speech writer - but then, she seemed a little tired of her career in opera and movies. Ganyu is going to be invaluable. Arlecchino will make a great chief of staff.
They file the necessary paperwork and the jokes start coming almost immediately.
Xilonen still thinks television was a mistake.
"No, this is exactly what we needed," Miko says, watching intently as the comedy panel show comedians make jokes about Mavuika Huitztlan and Jean Gunnhildr, both of which they pronounce incorrectly. Even Jean, because they seem to assume they're both men. "This will get us name recognition, which is a vital starting point."
"They were both executives at LXI. Obviously they think that since LXI make all the technology in the country they should just run it."
"They should try making a printer that doesn't jam first."
"Oh come on," Xilonen says, looking up from playing Snap with her daughter. "We don't make printers!"
"How fast can you start?" Miko asks. "That's going to be a running joke when we start gaining traction. If you can release a printer that doesn't jam at least a few months before the election that could genuinely get us votes."
"That's -" Xilonen pauses. "Hm."
Miko smiles.
Mavuika and Jean and half of their old school friends - and some of Razor, Klee and Hine's - are still working on policy, so they haven't actually officially launched the campaign.
Xilonen appreciates that her job was just to hand over her credit card.
The one with no limit, that draws on the bank she owns.
If Mavuika wins her parents have promised to do all the crap that would be expected of the First Lady, since Xilonen is not interested and is sure she'd be bad at it.
"So what's the strategy for making us be not a joke?" she asks Miko curiously.
Miko laughs lightly. "They get to meet Mavuika. She overwhelms them with charisma, and then Jean follows that by being tremendously worthy and serious at them."
"They'll start saying it would be great if she could win but she can't," Xilonen says.
"We only need the first part." Miko shrugs. "Convincing people she could win starts when she takes the lead in the polls." She glances at Xilonen. "Do you really want me to explain my strategy to you?"
Xilonen considers that. "No thanks."
~
"There's a rumour that the major parties are begging the media outlets friendly to them to stop interviewing Mavuika Huitztlan."
"Can you blame them? It's like she hypnotises the interviewers. I think the record is eleven minutes to go from hostility to hero worship."
"Have you met her?"
"Obviously not. You can tell because I don't worship the ground she walks on and haven't asked her for a job."
"Do you think they're going to stop booking her for interviews?"
"With the ratings she pulls? Unlikely."
"What do you think is wrong with her?"
"Let's see. She's beautiful, intelligent, and has represented the country in multiple Olympics. She's been married to her childhood sweetheart since she was eighteen and no amount of desperate digging has uncovered evidence of infidelity. She went to an elite private school, but the school has scholarships for gifted kids who don't have money and that's before we even get into the project programs."
"Right. Which everyone knows about, because of her running mate's oldest son."
"Exactly. He was a lost or abandoned child raised by literal wolves. Gunnhildr and her wife married to adopt him so he could have stability. The press package on that made my wife cry and now she says she's voting for them."
"So what you're saying is..."
"If there's something wrong with her no-one has found it yet. LXI do a lot of defence contracting but that's patriotic. They have an endless supply of decorated soldiers who are thrilled to talk about their personal experiences with LXI's work and even with some of their directors."
"So. The independent candidates are beautiful, intelligent women. They're polling strongly with women, young people, opera fans -"
"What? Why?"
"Huitztlan. Not a coincidence. Anyway, also a lot of sports fans and people who are into redheads."
"They're not getting that far with a lot of other people, though. People want a president who's tough."
"That's all that's saving the major parties."
~
By custom and law presidential candidates are protected by the Special Security and Surveillance Patrol.
LXI's head of security isn't happy about handing over control of Mavuika's protection to someone who isn't him.
Which is why when Mavuika sees the rifle her first thought, even as she's moving, is: Donny is going to be pissed.
"Jean, left!" Mavuika shouts, and goes right.
The shooter misses between them, and Mavuika is sprinting towards the tree.
He drops and runs.
"I've got this one, check if he has backup!" Mavuika calls, thankful for all the time she spent learning to sprint in heels.
They have advantages, like how when she kicks him hard in the back of the thigh he goes down and stays down.
If she didn't wear shoes designed by Chiori specifically for her she might have snapped off a heel, but as it is her shoes are intact and he's probably not walking again without surgery.
She's not sorry.
"Uh," one of the police officers there for crowd control says.
"Cuffs," Mavuika says holding out her hand, and he hesitantly gives her his handcuffs. Mavuika cuffs the would-be assassin's hands behind his back and stands. "Watch him and call an ambulance," she orders, and picks up his rifle as she jogs back towards the stage.
She meets the protection detail guys on the way, for some reason apparently chasing after her. "Where are we on the sweep for accomplices?" she asks.
"We were following you, ma'am," one of them says uncertainly.
She tilts her head. "If you're going to follow me that slowly, why bother?"
It's only at that moment that she realises how close they are to a camera.
Oops.
Priorities. "Jean!" she calls, seeing a flash of familiar blonde hair through the crowd, and cuts in that direction. "What have you got?"
"Spotter on the flank," Jean reports. "He was trying to make a break for it. Razor's watching him. Doesn't seem like there are others here but we don't know if they have other accomplices yet."
There are so many cameras closing in on them. "I'm worried about an additional threat," Mavuika says. "There's ten thousand people here and they're all on edge now. If anything else happens to cause a panic people could get hurt."
"Trying to evacuate everyone could also cause a panic," Jean points out.
"I know." Mavuika thinks for a moment. "I guess I'll have to make a different speech."
~
"So you are suggesting that was a setup?"
"With all due respect to your candidate, Ms Yae, yes."
"And you don't think her making that truly excellent speech entirely from memory would be just as impressive as doing it spontaneously? She left her notes at the podium and stood at the edge of the stage holding the microphone to address the crowd directly."
"Well... Sure, I guess. But actually I meant the whole incident with the alleged shooter."
"If your candidate wishes to claim that he is equally capable of such a feat, Mavuika has told me she would be quite willing to accept his challenge to a race. A simple hundred metre sprint - there need not be a gunman at the end of it."
"He, uh."
"She is willing to allow that he need not do it in heels."
"I'm not sure that sprinting is really a qualification for the presidency."
"And I'm not sure on what evidence you suggest that anything about that incident was staged. Mavuika has said nothing to suggest that she thinks anyone should consider it a factor in deciding how to vote. She has only said that she was thankful that no-one other than the gunman was hurt."
"Don't you think we should be talking about policy, not about that?"
"Yes, but you do insist on bringing it up."
~
Courage isn't about a lack of fear. Courage is about overcoming fear. If there's a threat, we'll face it together, and we can be strong for each other. Stand with me and be united. This is our moment. Now is our time. Together we can win and change the world.
Mavuika would probably prefer that sentiment to be taking off, rather than If you're going to follow her that slowly, why bother?
Apparently? Tough. There are bumper stickers and t-shirts and they aren't even the ones making them.
~
"I can do much to control the narrative, but I am not omnipotent," Miko says. "You will need to make an appearance."
Xilonen frowns. "I'm not a candidate. At all."
"The other candidates' wives make appearances with them. Your absence has become the biggest point of attack against Mavuika." Miko raises an eyebrow at her. "Is it really so much to ask?"
Xilonen sighs. "Fine. Set up a debate."
Even Miko seems taken by surprise. "I beg your pardon?"
Xilonen picks up a screwdriver. "If the wives are relevant to this somehow, we should have a debate too. Otherwise what are we doing? Which candidate's wife is the hottest? That's not even a fair contest."
"On some level, the question appears to be whether you love her."
Xilonen pauses. "So do you want me to just make out with her on stage? Because otherwise I feel like that could be a memo that says we've been married for over twenty years, we have two kids and I'm dropping a couple of billion mora on her election campaign because this is something she cares about now."
Miko laughs. "For some reason this is judged on your willingness to campaign with her."
Xilonen shakes her head. "I'll do a debate. And I'll go to a couple of rallies, but I'm going to stand at the side of the stage and think about making out with her and I'm not going to try and hide that I'm doing that."
"I'll see what I can arrange," Miko says.
~
"So tonight features a quite unprecedented event with the first ever First Ladies' Debate. I'm told Mrs Huitztlan was insistent that if the wives of the candidates were going to be considered relevant to the election they should get to debate too."
"Actually it was Doctor Huitztlan who came up with the idea of the debate. Mrs Huitztlan is Mavuika Huitztlan, the candidate."
"Her wife is a doctor?"
"With all due respect, did you do any preparation for this at all? Yes. Doctor Xilonen Huitztlan has a PhD in Source Engineering."
"That's... seriously?"
"Seriously. She's the joint head of research and development at LXI."
"Wow."
"The other head is Jean Gunnhildr's wife."
"You're kidding."
"I'm really not. You are seriously underprepared, though."
"I think I might be. Anyway, the ladies are coming out now..."
~
Xilonen has been very thoroughly briefed for this. She has a job to do on pain of Miko being really, really mad at her.
For some reason they're all supposed to come out on stage with their families. Xilonen thinks that was a poor choice for the others, because her family is just way more awesome than theirs when she arrives with her wife, parents-in-law and sister-in-law and her children, all together a collection of ridiculously beautiful adults and the cutest kids in the world.
She's biased, but not that biased.
It does make it easier for her to smile like she's supposed to, because that's a lot of love to be surrounded with too.
The introductions seem a little unfair, honestly.
Mrs Rosalyne-Kruzchka Rostam.
Mrs Vigniere Marcel.
Dr Xilonen Huitztlan.
It just seems to set a tone.
Xilonen steps onto the stage. Like they rehearsed, she kisses Mavuika and hugs her children - who hug her back with enthusiasm, unlike Rostam's kids, Xilonen notes - and goes to take her place at the table.
This all seems so silly.
They're going to be trying to attack your character, Miko said. Nothing else they've tried has landed and they're getting desperate.
I'll make some calls, Xilonen told her.
Miko insists she's not allowed to chew gum on stage, but Xilonen was chewing some before she came out and her mouth still tastes of cinnamon.
Xilonen is wearing a suit Chiori made specially for this occasion, she's wearing makeup, and she spent a week letting Furina and Yanfei hang out in her workshop to do debate prep.
She's pretty confident about this.
~
MODERATOR: What do you think is your greatest accomplishment in life?
MARCEL: I take great pride in having dedicated my life to public service. I've been a charity director for the last sixteen years.
ROSTAM: My three wonderful children.
HUITZTLAN: I think kids are great. I love mine, they're the best, but I think it's not really fair to call them my accomplishment. They're their own people and I want them to live for themselves, not as a reflection of their parents.
ROSTAM: How dare -
MODERATOR: Please, Mrs Rostam. The rules forbid interruptions.
HUITZTLAN: As far as personal accomplishments go - I'm still the only person who's actually cracked Source core reprogramming. Every piece of Source-based tech that affects our daily lives works because of me. That seems like it might be pretty big but I did that when I was fifteen and I don't know that I want to say I peaked in my teens. I did invent a printer that doesn't jam, and I have several friends who seem like they're more impressed with that than anything else I've ever done. Maybe that counts.
Audience laughter and applause.
~
Xilonen doesn't think she likes Rostam. And they're up to the part of the debate where they get to talk to each other. They were given pens and paper to take notes if they wanted from the earlier parts.
Rostam looks at her. "I think families are the backbone of this nation, don't you, Doctor Huitztlan?"
Xilonen nods. "We'd run out of citizens without them, so sure."
Rostam smiles poisonously. "Do you really think you'd be an appropriate role model as First Lady when you abandoned yours?"
Xilonen blinks and looks over at the wings. "My family right over there who walked me out onto the stage?"
"Not them. The family who brought you into this world and gave you your advantageous start in life." Rostam gestures to the audience. "Your parents, who despite your tremendous wealth are living on a state pension."
Xilonen frowns and looks out at the audience, where a spotlight is shining on two older people who, she supposes, do look vaguely like they could be her birth parents.
"Seriously?" she hears herself say. "That's what you're going with?" She shakes her head. "When I was four years old I got a scholarship to boarding school. My birth parents dropped me off and never came back for me. I spent school breaks with my friends' families. And then when I was thirteen my parents filed in court to terminate their parental relationship with me. Legally I have no connection to those people."
Rostam shoots a narrow-eyed glance towards the audience. Xilonen wonders what she was told. "You must have been quite the delinquent child," she tries.
Xilonen can't help it, she snorts. "I had a perfect disciplinary record in an accelerated program that had me graduating high school at eleven and university at thirteen. I know this might surprise anyone who knows I have Olympic medals, but I was a nerd."
Rostam purses her lips for a moment.
Xilonen leans forward. "Are you considering whether you should open with when you were thirteen?"
Rostam's eyes widen.
"You are," Xilonen says, and shakes her head. "That's an interesting choice."
"What happened when you were thirteen?" Mrs Marcel asks tentatively.
"I can tell you the parts that have been declassified, I checked," Xilonen says. "That was when I worked my first defence contract. What I suspect Mrs Rostam was thinking about saying is that when I was thirteen I show up in a photograph taken of the terrorist group Deshret's Relics. What Mrs Rostam might have subsequently thought about is the possibility that the photograph was taken while I was being held hostage after being kidnapped, which it was." She flips her pen in the air and catches it balanced on her fingertip. "I don't think Deshret's Relics recruited thirteen-year-old girls who aren't even Eremites."
"That's so awful," Mrs Marcel says softly.
"It was only for a week," Xilonen says. "Look, the question was about families. Mrs Rostam seems to doubt my dedication to mine."
"You don't even support your wife's campaign to be president," Rostam says. "How dedicated can you be to your family?"
Xilonen doesn't let herself look triumphant at the perfect opening. "I've been blessed with an amazing family. My kids, my in-laws, my wife, my friends... and the soldiers I met when I was a kid myself who always had my back. When I was being held in a shack by terrorists I knew the guys would be coming to get me, and they did. I just had to hold out. I was pulled out by a corporal who took two bullets to save me. He's still my brother. He delivered my son. I'm not campaigning with Mavuika because I'm busy designing the weapons and armour that keep our soldiers and our country safe every day. My family is everything to me, and that includes the soldiers, then and now, who welcomed me into the military family and have always been there for me."
Rostam looks like she just bit into a pickled lemon.
Mrs Marcel has tears in her eyes and her hand over her heart.
Xilonen is tempted to ask Rostam about her high school wrestling career and that time her team brought crappy wrestlers with the specific intention of injuring people and broke Jean's ankle, but it might seem petty when she's already winning.