Bradford took the elevator up to Ozpin's office, confused about two things. First, why did Ozpin want to see him so urgently? Second, why did Ozpin ask him to arrive on Remnant at a specified location and travel on foot to his office? Something felt off, and Bradford's fight-or-flight instincts started kicking in by the time the elevator doors opened up to reveal the headmaster's office. Inside, Bradford saw five occupants: Ozpin, at his desk; Glynda, standing at Ozpin's eight o'clock and looking irate; Qrow, skulking in the shadows; and General Ironwood flanked by Winter, both wearing impassive expressions. Five sets of eyes stared at Bradford as he walked into the room, and their faces led the Central Officer to briefly wonder if he was walking towards death by firing squad. Even Ozpin looked somewhat somber as he stood up from his seat to greet the newcomer.

"Thank you for coming, Captain Bradford. I apologize for requesting your presence on such short notice, but the General has matters he wishes to discuss that are directly related to you and your recon division."

The pointed look that Ozpin gave him told Bradford that Ironwood didn't intend to give him a pat on the back. He needed to tread carefully.

"Very well," he said, casting a glance at Ironwood before looking back at the headmaster, "You have my attention."

Ozpin folded his hands on his desk and stared evenly at Bradford, "We have reason to believe that you sent two of my student teams on a mission to secretly install surveillance equipment early this morning. Not only did they bug the Vytal Festival's fairgrounds and sections of this school, but they discussed plans to do the same for the city of Vale as well."

"Do you deny it?" Ironwood asked, giving Bradford a hard look.

And suddenly, everything became clearer. Ozpin had given permission for Bradford's plan when he first brought it up after meeting with JNPR. Clearly, Ironwood had found out somehow, and Ozpin needed to save face by appearing to be just as upset about the whole situation. A common occurrence in espionage, and Bradford understood completely why the headmaster needed to keep his hands clean of all this. Bradford needed to talk his way out of this one without expecting much help from the headmaster. No direct help, at least.

"No sir." Bradford said, "I take full responsibility for the actions of RWBY and JNPR this morning."

"Are you going to offer an explanation, then?"

Bradford nodded, "Only that information is the most important asset that any commander can ask for. I have spent the last three weeks in a position where information was scarce, and I lost a lot of good men and women because of it. If I can situate myself now where I have more information available to me and my scouts, you can be certain that I'll make it happen."

Silence for a few moments, then Ironwood slowly responded, "It sounds like you're preparing for war, Captain."

The Central Officer held his gaze without flinching, "In a world overrun by monsters that can be summoned by the slightest ripple of fear in a population's emotions, wouldn't you be?"

"Be that as it may, the council has given me authority over this event's security, not you." Ironwood said, "And my security is there for the people to see, to make them feel safe. What you are doing is effectively spying, Bradford."

"And you wouldn't say the same for the actions of your operative?" Bradford asked, nodding at Winter. Silence fell over the room, only broken by Qrow's 'Oh snap' as Ironwood and Winter exchanged mildly stunned looks.

'Good thing I guessed correctly.'

Bradford raised an eyebrow, acting like this assertion was the most obvious thing in the world, "What, you think I couldn't figure out how you had 'reason to believe' that this happened? Miss Schnee arrives two days ago, spends time with her sister's team, who she knows was closely involved with my scouts during our latest operation, and then you happen to find out that RWBY was doing work for me at three in the morning? In fact…"

Bradford dug his scroll out of his pocket and made a few rapid keystrokes.

"Bear with me for a moment, if you don't mind," he said as he pulled up the tracking program Vahlen developed for the motion sensor system. He accessed the archived data and quickly flipped through the early-morning timestamps. Ironwood raised an eyebrow at Winter while Bradford called out his progress, "Alright… there's Team RWBY… and I'm assuming those are the Atlesian Knights you have patrolling the grounds. Quite an impressive security force, General. Right, off goes Team RWBY, aaaaaaaand… aha."

He passed off the scroll to Winter with a small grin, "I do believe that would be you, Miss Schnee."

Qrow's flask stifled his laughter as Bradford's comment caught the huntsman mid-swig. Rather than let Qrow continue to fill the awkward moment with his painful sounds of amusement, Bradford pressed on, "So it seems that Atlas is just as guilty of the skullduggery you're trying to lay upon me, and you know what? That's not a bad thing. Given the world we live in, secrecy is a necessary evil. I picked that time for Team RWBY's mission not because I hoped to keep it from people like you, but to keep it from the general populace. While it's unfortunate that keeping them in the dark looks shady or underhanded, I am doing so to negate the possibility of fear increasing as a result of my actions. I need information, General, but I think we can agree that the people don't need to get worried about why I need it. And after the last time I was asked to be here with your Specialist, I don't think it's difficult to understand my motives."

While Ironwood continued to digest Bradford's words, Winter spoke up, "You seem to believe that your intentions are noble, and I won't try to imply otherwise. However, given that Atlas is charged with the festival's security, why didn't you bring us in on your plan?"

"Probably because you would have rejected it." Qrow answered, finally recovered from his choking fit, "Let's be real here: if some nobody approached you and said 'Hey, can I put cameras-"

"Motion sensors." Bradford corrected, "It's an important distinction."

"… Whatever. 'Hey, can I put motion sensors up around the fairgrounds? It'll help with security,' you'd be offended at the implication that Jimmy's measures are apparently not enough for Mr. Jagoff. So why would Brad even bother with going to you if he already knows the answer before the question is asked?"

Glynda spoke for the first time, "While you're not necessarily wrong, Qrow, Operative Schnee has a point. How can we hope to provide a safe festival if we can't even trust each other? Actions like these plant seeds of doubt, and the people that we are supposed to call allies suddenly begin to wonder if we're not enemies instead."

"I think Glynda is right." Bradford agreed, "We're going about this the wrong way. Atlas is in charge of security. Everyone is in agreement about that. However, it's important to remember that you aren't the only ones who have a vested interest in the success of this event and the well-being of its attendants. While we will leave the show of strength to Atlas to help give the guests a much-needed peace of mind, The Valean Recon Division simply wishes to do what we do best for the greater good of everyone's safety."

"The important thing here is that no ill intentions were meant by Captain Bradford's actions." Ozpin said, trying to come back to the specific matter at hand, "Perhaps we can make the most of this and move forward in a manner that is beneficial for everyone involved?"

"I'm… not sure what you mean, Ozpin." Ironwood admitted.

Ozpin looked at Winter, "Miss Schnee, it appears Captain Bradford's records show that you approached his equipment after my students left the fairgrounds, correct? What did you find?"

Winter refused to meet Ozpin's gaze, "Nothing, sir. I… ah… couldn't find the actual hardware even though I watched your students install it."

"Hah!"

"Qrow." Ozpin warned, eyes narrowed. He looked back at Ironwood, "The point I'm trying to make is that the skills my students have gained under Captain Bradford's leadership are valuable, as is the technology that his team uses. Why attempt to stop the work of Vale's Recon Division when you can use it to ensure the safety of the public? This is not about bragging rights, James, but ensuring the continued peace between the four kingdoms."

Ironwood looked at Ozpin, then Winter, before finally settling his gaze on Bradford. He sighed, rubbed his temple, and nodded, "Alright. I'd hate for this to sour the relationship between Atlas and Vale. I would, however, like to be fully aware of any reconnaissance projects your Captain plans to implement in the future. I'm still the head of security for this festival, and so I need to know all my options if the time comes to exercise them."

"Agreed." Ozpin said, smiling, "I don't think we could have come to a better resolution than this, James. Thank you for understanding."

"One more thing, though." Ironwood said.

"Of course."

"What is Excom?"

Bradford's stomach twisted into knots for a fraction of a second before Ozpin answered without missing a beat, "It stands for Extraterrestrial Combat Unit."

The Central Officer joined the two Atlesian dignitaries in throwing Ozpin an incredulous look.

"Extraterr-..." Ironwood interrupted himself, sighed, and tried again, "What is that supposed to mean? Why does a Recon Division have a Combat Unit?"

"Well first of all, reconnaissance tends to take place in high-risk locations well beyond the safety of the four Kingdoms, so it should come as no surprise that Bradford's unit has combat training. The name Excom is a bit of an inside joke, basically stemming for the common sentiment amongst the operatives that -you'll have to pardon my Mistrali- 'If bullshit like the Grimm is par for the course around here, then who's to say we won't be dealing with fucking aliens somewhere down the line?' "

For a second time in as many minutes, Qrow choked on his flask.

"To combat the stresses of the ever-present danger in their line of work," Ozpin continued, "The men and women of the Valean Recon Division have developed an impressive array of gallows humor. Their moniker for the division is simply an example of their particular brand of comedy."

Ironwood sighed, "I see. I apologize for troubling you for an explanation."

"Not at all." The headmaster replied cheerfully, "I've grown rather fond of the name myself. It would be quite exciting to make contact with alien life, wouldn't you agree?"

"Only if it was peaceful, perhaps." Ironwood answered, "Though your Excom operatives seem to think otherwise. Thank you for your time, Ozpin." He nodded at Bradford, "Captain."

After Ironwood left the room (with his embarrassed and uncharacteristically quiet officer in tow), Qrow let out an impressed whistle, "That was a damn impressive speech you pulled out of your ass there, Brad. Nicely done."

"I'm more impressed with Ozpin's quick thinking for that last bit." Bradford admitted, "I think my heart stopped for a second when Ironwood asked about XCOM."

"I apologize for not warning you beforehand." Ozpin added, "My colleague needed to believe that I wasn't going behind his back with the festival's security, and I didn't get an opportunity to tip you off about the nature of the meeting."

"I understand. I'm just glad that I managed to help smooth things over." Bradford raised an eyebrow at Qrow, "Though we probably could have avoided this if our Spymaster thwarted Winter's investigation in the first place."

Qrow gave Bradford a hard look before his face relaxed into a smile, "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

"Back to the point," Glynda said with an eye roll, "We have just agreed to inform Ironwood of any future projects we plan to execute during the festival. Are there any other projects that we have in mind?"

"Aside from the motion sensors and the comm relay-"

"- which we conveniently left out of our disclosure to the General." Glynda pointed out.

"The only other point of interest that remains is a sweep of the CCTS's software. Given what we've learned from our analysis of RWBY's scrolls, my research staff is developing a diagnostic suite to achieve this. Though it would go faster if we had access to the software architecture of the CCTS itself." The Central Officer added with a look at Ozpin.

"While the CCTS is a gift from Atlas to the four Kingdoms, they are adamant that it remains their proprietary technology," Ozpin explained.

Qrow snorted, "For the sake of the system's security, or some other bullshit."

"Then why was some intruder able to gain access so easily?" Bradford asked.

"We don't know if the infiltrator actually did anything," Ozpin reminded him, "Ironwood's initial sweep of the system revealed nothing. But if some malicious package was in fact injected into the CCTS, your question does raise some worrying concerns."

The Central Officer nodded, "Then it sounds like I need to get my people hustling on the project. I trust that you'll relay our intentions to General Ironwood? Neither my Chief Engineer nor my Chief Scientist is exactly qualified for covert operations."

"I'll let him know." Glynda confirmed.

Bradford's comm piece chirped in his ear, followed by the voice of his Field Commander, "Central, we've received notice that the Council is requesting another… ah… discussion about a resolution to the Temple Ship issue. They plan to open up a channel in about an hour. Thought you should know."

"Understood. Have the Major bring the ship around to Rally Point Oscar. I'm finishing up a meeting with Ozpin."

"We're already there, sir. Techs are warming up the relay now."

Bradford sighed. These meetings with the Council never ended well, and he wondered how they expected this one to go any differently.

"More business to attend to?" The headmaster asked.

Bradford nodded, "No rest for the wicked. It seems that duty calls back on Earth. We'll be in touch."

The familiar purple portal of the Hyperwave Relay opened up, and Bradford stepped through. The transdimensional connection closed with a faint pop and left the remaining three occupants alone in the room with the methodical ticking of clock gears.

"It was good of you to come visit us, Doctor!" Weiss said. Weiss, Vahlen, and the rest of RWBY walked down the path towards the fairgrounds. With the singles round starting in a couple of hours, the team decided that breakfast would be a good way to start the morning with the Chief Scientist before they had to prepare for the tournament and Vahlen met with Ozpin.

Vahlen smiled at Weiss, "Even though I have access to instantaneous travel that can take me anywhere with near-perfect precision, I felt it couldn't hurt to arrive a few hours early. My subordinates in the labs all know what their tasks are for the next couple of days, so spending some extra time on Remnant felt like the right choice."

"Of course it was!" Ruby exclaimed, skipping along next to Weiss, "I just wish you had more time to be a tourist."

"I'm sure that things will settle down after this affair with the Vytal Festival is finished." The doctor said, "The time dilation is a bit… unfortunate, but we'll find a way to work around that. Trust me, I have plenty of motivation to spend some time engaged in field work on Remnant."

Blake listened to the chatter between the doctor and her teammates while struggling with a personal dilemma. She really should have brought it to Vahlen's attention sooner, but Blake couldn't bring herself to make the jump and have a conversation with the doctor in her lab. And digital communication was out of the question due to Bradford's lockdown, but something like this warranted a face-to-face meeting, anyway. Given her history with the White Fang, the idea that Blake was suffering from PTSD felt humiliating. But now that she had Vahlen here on Remnant and not on another world, in a different dimension… Blake didn't really have an excuse anymore. Especially with the finals rounds coming up, she needed to get some advice from Vahlen to avoid another repeat incident of the fight with ABRN.

"Hey guys?" Four heads swiveled around to look at Blake curiously, and she realized that she hadn't said anything during their entire walk from Beacon until now, "I… uh… do you mind if I borrow Vahlen for a moment? I just need to talk to her about… things." She avoided eye contact with her friends, casting a sideways look at the ground instead.

After a moment of confused silence, Ruby shrugged, "Sure thing, Blake. We'll go on ahead and try to find somewhere to eat. Take your time."

"Thanks, Ruby." Blake and Vahlen watched the rest of RWBY walk off before the doctor returned her attention to the troubled huntress, a clinical expression crossing her face.

"Is something wrong with the prosthetics? I know they've been field tested during operations on Earth, but Bradford told me about your tournament fights. They sounded rather intense."

"No, my limbs are working just fine, Vahlen." Blake explained. She tapped her head, "It's this that I'm worried about."

The doctor raised an eyebrow, "Blunt-force trauma? I was under the impression that your Aura protected against that."

Blake sighed. She didn't want to spell it out for Vahlen, but she didn't want to play 20 Questions, either, "During my team's first fight, something happened that triggered a flashback to my run-in with a Chryssalid on the Newfoundland op. My survival instincts took control of my body, and I… well, I used excessive force to defend myself. Ruby had to knock me down so that I wouldn't… do anything I'd regret." She finished barely above a whisper.

Vahlen gave Blake a sad smile, "I apologize for playing stupid, but I wanted to hear you say the words yourself. Ever since Bradford mentioned your… erratic behavior during the first fight, I've been wondering when you'd come to see me."

"I'm sorry for taking so long." Blake mumbled, "It's just that it's embarrassing that this is happening, you know?"

"It's not something to be ashamed of. You spent months fighting for your life, Blake. That kind of stress won't go away easily."

"But so did the rest of my team!" Blake argued. "And I've spent years with the White Fang before that! Now that I agreed to represent our team in the final round tomorrow, what if I do something again? I won't have Ruby to bail me out this time."

The two of them stood in silence, letting Blake's words hang between them. Vahlen knew that Blake had every right to be worried, especially given the unique dangers of public emotion on Remnant. Going berserk on an opponent, especially a helpless one, in a fit of rage would be an extremely bad turn of events for a festival working to spread peace among the nations of the world. Vahlen guessed that this problem didn't come up very often for the Vytal Festival because the students participating in the tournament don't have the opportunity to develop serious cases of PTSD during their training. Given the circumstances surrounding RWBY and JNPR (and Blake in particular, with her near-death experience), this could be a serious problem.

It surprised Vahlen to hear that Ruby appointed Blake as their candidate for the final round. If Blake herself had concerns about her own ability to exhibit restraint, why would Ruby still ask her to continue on in the tournament? From the reports of the operatives who were present for the second round, Blake didn't have a repeat performance when she and Ruby faced off against the students from Atlas. Even so, going into a stressful tournament fight with a rattled psyche was less-than-ideal, especially since Vahlen had seen past instances of Blake struggling to cope with her problems.

Maybe that was why Ruby picked her after all, the doctor mused. Doing the safe thing and promoting herself for the finals would only reinforce Blake's fears that she was damaged and unfit to fight. The potential effects of that shame could last for an incredibly long time, perhaps even leave a permanent mark on Blake's confidence. Instead, Ruby's choice sent Blake a very clear and unmistakable message: I trust you. You are not weak and you do not need someone to hold your hand.

Vahlen hummed thoughtfully, "Well, you will have Ruby to bail you out, since she'll be in the stands for your match, but that's not why you came to me. For the short term, I do have medication that can help calm your nerves. It might also hinder your fight-or-flight reflexes, however, so I'm not sure how much you'll want before a tournament match. For the long term, we can also resume with the cognitive behavioral therapy we worked on together during the war after your… incident. If you recall, it's a much slower healing process, so it won't help for your upcoming fight, but I'm sure you're interested in getting your life back."

"I wish I talked to you about this earlier so we had more than a few hours to get this fixed." Blake sighed.

"I recommend you don't approach the situation with that attitude." Vahlen said, "PTSD isn't the same as trying to glue a chipped piece of a vase back together and calling it 'fixed.' It's a road, Blake, as I'm sure you can recall me telling you during past conversations. The destination is your ability to coexist with the stress and not let it control you."

Vahlen had a point, and Blake knew it. Blake just wished that she didn't have to deal with this kind of bullshit, especially when it seemed like her teammates were getting along just fine. Still, trying to rush a 'cure' might just make things worse, and so Blake needed to do things the right way or not at all.

"Perhaps you would benefit from meditating with Ren before your match later?" The doctor asked, "I understand that meditation is usually an individual activity, but Ren is very in-tune with spiritual and mental health. I'm sure he'd be willing to help if you are comfortable with telling him about your issue, and I know that Bradford would be more than happy to provide you with some time and solitude aboard the ship."

Blake nodded, "I'll… think about it. Thank you, Doctor."

"Thank you for trusting me enough to seek my advice and assistance." Vahlen answered with a smile, "I still remember the first time you revealed to me your secret." She nodded at Blake's uncovered ears, "And it's good to know that I haven't violated that trust."

The pair resumed walking along the path towards the fairgrounds to catch up with the rest of RWBY, unaware of the green-haired huntress using her semblance to remain concealed from Blake's superior senses.

"Well that was productive." Emerald mused as she left to report her findings to her mistress. With the plans they had in mind in the event that RWBY put forward Blake as their champion, news about a sedative necessitated some modifications. Good thing Cinder decided to send her this time around instead of that childish psychopath.

"Central Officer Bradford. Thank you for agreeing to once again speak with this… council of nations on behalf of your staff at the XCOM Project."

Bradford let out a deep breath. With everything going on regarding Remnant, dealing with the Council of Poorly-Lit Bald People was the last thing he wanted to do. And yet, he knew that matters needed to be resolved before relations worsened and the Council decided that pursuing drastic actions against XCOM outweighed the benefits that Bradford's forces offered against the Grimm. One way or another, their differences of opinion needed to be reconciled, and their relationship needed to be repaired.

Today.

One small comfort for Bradford was the sight of his Field Commander standing at attention next to him. Ever since Bradford's first visit to Remnant, he'd taken Shen's advice and passed off some of his daily tasks and duties on to his officers. If there was anyone he wanted batting for him during this meeting, Van Doorn would be his number one pick.

"It's my pleasure, councilmen. I hope you don't mind that my Field Commander joins us. Given that he is the ranking officer of our ground forces, I felt that it was important that he be included in this discussion."

"His presence is… more than welcome." The head councilman said, "We are… pleased to have you with us, Field Commander. Perhaps now we will get somewhere with these… negotiations."

Bradford and Van Doorn shared a look before the latter relaxed his stance and answered, "That is our hope, councilman. Shall we get down to business?"

"We shall." The central figure answered, nodding his shadowy head and returning his attention to Bradford, "For weeks now, you have… stonewalled any and every request we've made to… assess the nature of XCOM's greatest prize from the war."

Bradford would have argued that RWBY and JNPR earned that title, but he knew what the councilman was actually referring to, "The Temple Ship?"

"The Temple Ship." The Councilman confirmed.

"You mean the central hub that XCOM uses to rapidly deploy strike teams and provide indirect support against the Grimm incursions that have been growing as of late?" Van Doorn asked cheerfully, "The very same hub where the world's brightest minds are working to develop a permanent solution to the Grimm infestation, and where sweeping advances in technology, both civilian and military, are underway for the betterment of mankind?"

In all the times he'd spoken with the Council before, Bradford had never heard the lead councilman let out an exasperated sigh, "… Yes. That one."

After taking a moment to enjoy his Field Commander's comment, Bradford took a deep breath and readied himself for the unpleasant part of the meeting. When it came down to it, all of the problems and disagreements revolving around the Temple Ship stemmed from the fact that neither side trusted the other. The Council allowed XCOM to remain in operation because of the service it provided against the Grimm, but they made it abundantly clear that Bradford needed to give them what they wanted if he wished to avoid XCOM's dissolution after Vahlen found a way to eradicate the Grimm. And of course, what they wanted was full access to the Temple Ship.

Honestly, Bradford didn't blame them. Big superweapon stocked with lots of alien technology and what was likely the mothership of the entire invasion? If the shoe was on the other foot, Bradford knew he'd have asked for the right to come aboard as well. What bothered him was the way they asked for it. Their tone became immediately hostile when Bradford showed the first sign of hesitation, and they spoke as if Bradford owed them the right to come aboard, inspect, and worst of all, take possession of the ship for further research and analysis. Perhaps it was the mental stress issues that Bradford had been dealing with at the time, but that did not sit well with the Central Officer at all. Even if he couldn't see their faces, he swore he could practically feel the greed in the lead councilman's voice during that fateful meeting where everything started to fall apart between the two parties.

"With respect, councilman," Bradford began, "I think you and I both want what's best for the world. I think the urgency and stubbornness in both our actions reflects how concerned we are with ushering our planet into a safer period of time on the heels of this war."

"Or perhaps if you didn't come across as so hostile and paranoid, the Central Officer might be more willing to meet with you halfway." Van Doorn mused, half-sarcastically.

Stunned silence from both sides. One comment was funny, but Bradford worried that if Van Doorn kept this up that the council would entertain no further thoughts of cooperation.

"… Is your Field Commander always this… blunt, Bradford?"

Van Doorn wasn't finished yet, it seemed, "You have to be, sir, if you want to survive on the battlefield. I know that you and your council play an important politicking game from your comfortable seats that requires a lot of posturing, false pretenses, and double-talk, but on the ground? Everyone is on the same page, or everyone is dead."

"Do remind yourself, General, that the… purpose of this Council is, first and foremost, the survival of the human race. The Temple Ship presents a very serious danger to that… objective, whether it is in friendly hands or not. While your Central Officer has proven himself to be a staunch ally to our… cause, the power contained within the ship cannot be denied."

Van Doorn glanced at Bradford, silently asking for permission to continue. Bradford shrugged, "You're clearly on a roll, Pete. Be my guest."

The Field Commander nodded before turning to answer the Council, "Your statement demonstrates that your loyalty is to Earth. It is the same for us here at XCOM. After all the efforts we have gone through to save it from the invasion, and now to save it from the Grimm, you can hardly deny it to be so."

"No one here is denying your… dedication to the cause, Field Commander."

"And neither are we denying yours." Van Doorn agreed, "And yet we remain at a standstill even so. I think that speaks volumes of how much we all respect and fear the awesome power of this ship. That despite the fact we are all on the same team, neither side is willing to make the trust fall and take the first step."

"We have asked time and again for-"

"For complete obedience to your wishes." Van Doorn interrupted, "You wish for us to bend the knee and accept your demands, as heavy as they are, at face value. That is simply not possible, councilman."

In that moment, Bradford figured out what Van Doorn was doing. While the Long War was mostly kept under wraps, propaganda was still used in an effort to suppress wide-spread panic. And Van Doorn, with all his achievements and heroism, was the quintessential poster boy for that campaign. Even the Council, wherever they were hiding, had to be aware of the Field Commander's many exploits. The fact that Bradford never heard a word about the St. Louis courthouse incident after his initial report was evidence enough. And now, he was taking a gamble and using his charisma and 'Hero of the People' fame to persuade the Council to change its tact.

Bradford wondered why he hadn't asked Van Doorn to attend one of these sooner.

The two men stared at the video screen in stony silence. When it was obvious the Field Commander had no intention of expanding on his statement, the councilman continued.

"Perhaps… a new approach is required."

Van Doorn smiled, "Perhaps."

"I… assume that you have terms of your own for us to move beyond this stalemate."

That surprised Bradford. The act of extending the first move to XCOM was, by all accounts, an olive branch if he'd ever seen one. Bradford and Van Doorn had the floor to lay out the first round of ground rules for their cooperation.

Integrity, Bradford remembered saying to Van Doorn when they had their first frank conversation about the Council situation, If they show even a small amount of integrity, then maybe I'd be willing to work with them. But so long as they hide behind their shadows and make demands of me, they can go fuck themselves.

"Showing us your faces would be a good start, councilor." Van Doorn suggested, "The aliens no longer walk among us, so I think it's hardly appropriate that we still don't know who you are, where you're from, or anything else that you already know about the rest of us."

"That is quite the… interesting demand, Field Commander. However, it is one that I am willing to comply with if it means we can… resolve this matter with expedience. Is there anything else?"

Van Doorn shrugged, "Only that we would like to know why the hell you want to poke around this ship and what you plan to do with whatever you find. We already have plenty of researchers and engineers documenting everything, and we send you regular reports on our findings."

"Reports that you have the luxury of… omitting anything that you feel is better kept to yourselves. Please, try to see this from our perspective. We simply wish to have a firsthand look with the help of a… trusted scientific professional who knows what we are specifically interested in and does not have a potential reason to… keep secrets from us."

Bradford sighed, though he couldn't help but be unsurprised. As charismatic as Van Doorn was, he could only do so much in a single conversation to influence the Council. And the Central Officer could understand their concerns... in a perverse, paranoid sense, anyway. Even so, he wanted to throw the councilman's statement about not questioning XCOM's loyalty back into his stupid, shadowy face. Reason won out, however, and the Central Officer adopted a more diplomatic answer.

"Very well." Bradford said, "Bring any reasonable number of scientists that you wish, but understand that they will be under constant supervision during the entirety of their stay aboard the Temple Ship."

"That is… an acceptable stipulation."

"And bring yourself, councilman." Van Doorn added.

Silence. That must have struck a nerve. The Field Commander grinned, "That's right, if you're so keen on developing trust with the Central Officer and myself, perhaps a face-to-face meeting is in order. You can even bring a security detail if you are concerned that we'd try something underhanded while you're here."

The silence continued after Van Doorn finished. Bradford started to wonder if Van Doorn had gone too far, until the councilman finally answered, "Agreed."

"Excellent. When would you like to tour our facilities with your little delegation?"

"In three days time. While we will need to get our… logistics in order, this Council of Nations is eager to put this… turbulent chapter of our continued partnership behind us."

Three days. Unless Bradford's estimates were off, the Vytal Festival would be close to winding down its tournament by that point. Perfect timing if he felt crazy enough to reveal to the councilman the real secret of the Temple Ship. They'd have to sooner or later, and Van Doorn suspected that the council wouldn't be too happy if they were intentionally kept in the dark about the Hyperwave Relay's little 'side effect' even after the (pseudo) show-of-trust that came about from this meeting.

Bradford nodded, "That works for us. We look forward to the meeting, councilman."

"As do I, Central Officer. And remember: we… will be watching."

The screen went black. Van Doorn raised an eyebrow at Bradford, "I mean, I've heard the rumors among the men, but… do they really end every communication like that?"

Dr. Vahlen quietly hummed to herself as she waited for the elevator to arrive at its destination in the CCTS tower. She checked her scroll (issued to her by Ozpin, as her usual tablet would look out-of-place on Remnant) and made sure all of her diagnostic programs were organized and ready to go for her work. Vahlen wished that Bradford could have postponed this until after Blake's tournament match. After a meeting with Ozpin in his office, she took a detour with Blake and Ren back to the Temple Ship before returning to Remant once more to begin her assignment from Bradford. Given the randomized nature of the combatants for the final round, however, she knew that Bradford couldn't afford for her to put off the CCTS visit for several hours.

"Do you always hum when you have nothing else to do?" Winter asked.

And of course, part of the assignment was to demonstrate cooperation with the Atlesian dignitaries. After hearing stories from both Dr. Shen and MacAuley, Vahlen had hoped she could work with Doctor Oobleck. But she would have to be satisfied with Weiss's sister, Winter Schnee. When Vahlen stopped by on the Temple Ship to get Blake's medication, Bradford pulled her aside and gave her a brief rundown of his experience with Winter. While the news of her apparent distaste for XCOM saddened Vahlen, the doctor found some amusement in the fact that her own sense of professionalism would come in handy for once.

"I apologize if you find it distracting, Miss Schnee." Vahlen said, closing up her scroll and stuffing it back into her pocket, "Though I must warn you that I tend to mumble and hum to myself when I'm working under pressure. It helps me focus."

"I'm surprised your colleagues haven't pointed it out to you before." Winter said.

The elevator door dinged, and the two women stepped out. The main room of the CCT revealed a modest morning crowd of people wishing to send messages to friends and loved ones overseas. Vahlen followed Winter across the floor and past an access door guarded by a security officer who let Winter past with a smart salute.

"They have." Vahlen said once she was finally alone again with Winter, "But when you've made a name for yourself with a portfolio of impressive scientific accomplishments, people tend to overlook your quirks. Some even start to develop the habits for themselves. Like Weiss."

Winter sighed, "Let's not talk about my sister, if you don't mind."

Right, Bradford warned Vahlen about that. Well, at least they had arrived at their destination so that Vahlen could direct her efforts towards more useful pursuits. Winter led her into a room at the end of the hall that vaguely reminded her of the Satellite Nexus facilities back at the old Anthill. While the CCT didn't have a fancy rotating dish array simultaneously tracking the vector and position of four independent satellites, the hardware Vahlen saw reminded her that even across worlds, the basic principles of communication systems likely remained the same.

A pair of technicians looked up when the door opened, saw Winter's uniform that marked her as an Atlesian Specialist, and immediately stood at attention.

"Alright, Doctor. Let's see you demonstrate your 'portfolio of impressive scientific accomplishments,' shall we?" Winter looked at the technicians, "My friend here needs access to the CCTS live software systems. Do whatever it is that she requires to get her work done."

"Y-yes, ma'am." One of the men said.

Well this could present a bit of a problem. Vahlen's primary goal here was to strictly identify and quarantine any potential malware that the CCTS's IT department (they had an IT department, right?) may have missed. One hundred percent above-board and part of the initiative to build trust between Atlas, Vale, and XCOM. She also had a secondary objective, however, and while it wasn't antagonistic or underhanded and didn't involve sending operatives into restricted areas at 3 am, Ironwood might not take too well to it. Basically, both Vahlen and Shen (and therefore Bradford) had an interest in gaining a deeper understanding of the CCTS's digital architecture. Ozpin already explained to them that such information was proprietary knowledge of Atlas, and that not even he had access to it.

So Vahlen and Bradford agreed that the approved visit to Vale's CCTS tower for the anti-malware operation would be a perfect opportunity for the Chief Scientist to be a programming 'tourist' and document as much information and software as she could. With Winter as her chaperone, Vahlen figured she could accomplish this goal in plain sight. A military specialist born into what seemed to be Remnant's equivalent of nobility likely didn't spend much time poking around computer systems, and would simply assume that Vahlen was just doing what she came here to do. Qualified CCTS technicians, though? They might question Vahlen's antics.

Still, she needed to put on a good face and make the best of the situation. The hours of practicing a smile with Weiss paid off as Vahlen did her best to cheerfully greet the tech walking over to her.

"Good morning. I'm Dr. Vahlen of Vale's research division."

The tech grasped her outstretched hand and nodded, "Morning, ma'am. I'm not a doctor or anything, but I've been a part of Atlas's CCTS team for most of my adult life. Call me Grayson."

Vahlen nodded, "Thank you, Grayson. Given that my familiarity with CCTS architecture is less than ideal, I am sure that your assistance will be most useful."

"Well let's get down to business, then." Grayson said as he led Vahlen over to his station, "What exactly do you need access to our systems for? I don't doubt the authenticity of your request since it's backed up by Specialist Schnee, but I can probably help you more effectively if I know what you're doing."

And it seemed that the questioning had already begun. Unfortunate.

"It's related to the break-in that occurred at this facility several weeks ago." Vahlen explained, "While we've been told that nothing untoward was found in the aftermath, General Ironwood has agreed to Ozpin's request for a second opinion."

Grayson chuckled, "So you're here to second-guess our work, eh? Well, I can respect that a personal look is necessary for some people to enjoy peace of mind, but I don't expect you'll find anything. The General had us run every diagnostic in the book, and it turned up nothing. Gave us the opportunity to clean up some legacy code and improve our efficiency, though, so it ended up being a net positive for us."

"I agree that this project likely won't turn up anything." Vahlen conceded, "And believe me, nothing would make me happier than finding out that the network remains secure. But perhaps a non-Atlesian perspective might find something that you hadn't thought of."

The technician thought about that for a second, then shrugged, "Again, highly unlikely. But you've already taken the time to come out here and do this, so why not? Tell me what you need."

"One thing I need is to know what I'm allowed under Atlas's IT protocols. As I'm sure you're well aware, diagnostics on a system of this magnitude require more time than we are willing to spend waiting around for it to finish." Vahlen held up her scroll, "I have developed some software that will allow me to use my personal device as a mobile terminal so that I may track the progress of my programs as well as make modifications to their parameters while I attend to other business. The software offers a high degree of encryption to prevent any compromise to the data stream, and you are more than welcome to examine it if you wish. I can even configure it to run concurrently on your terminal so that you have the same administrator access if there is something that you feel requires your intervention."

Grayson took the scroll and flipped through the code Vahlen pulled up for him, "This… is very different from almost anything I've seen." He looked up at Vahlen with a curious glance, "You sure you're from around here? I've worked with Valean programmers in the past, and they don't write like this either."

Shit. Vahlen had worked with Ozpin to develop canned answers to a lot of questions, but not this one. She felt her heart beat faster as she scrambled to come up with an explanation, "Programming i-is a bit of a game for me. While there are methodologies commonly accepted as best practices, I s-sometimes try to find alternative logic structures to achieve the same goal. Just to… just to see if I can, I suppose."

Grayson gave her a long stare, as if trying to figure out whether she really was a top Valean scientist or just some wannabe script kiddie trying to get into trouble. As offensive as the notion was, the real reason for why her program logic differed from Atlesian standards would be far more difficult to explain. Vahlen didn't want to think about what kind of look Winter was probably giving her right now. Eventually, the technician finished his assessment of Vahlen's software and handed the scroll back to her.

"Looks fine to me. Protocol ordinarily does not allow for foreign software to run on the live servers, even with our consent. Given that this comes with authorization from the General, however, makes it an exception. Just means more work for me, since I have to monitor it while it runs." Grayson sighed.

And this was why Vahlen wasn't happy to see the technicians in the first place. Looked like she would have to postpone Objective Number Two for another day, given that she didn't want to gamble on Grayson failing to notice the data-gathering functions of her software. Good thing she pulled up the 'friendlier' code when she handed over her scroll. In truth, details about the CCTS architecture could wait. The safety of the tournament and the security of the tower came first, and Bradford made it very clear that he didn't want to risk putting further strain on XCOM's already-rocky relationship with Ironwood. The chances that something like this would occur were fairly high, they knew, and so the extra data was categorized as Nice To Have rather than Top Priority.

With no other choice, Vahlen got to work with Grayson setting up her diagnostic software while Winter looked on. The Chief Scientist would glance over her shoulder and see Weiss's sister staring right back at her with a raised eyebrow as if to ask, 'Why are you looking at me? Your work is over there.' She never once looked bored or distracted, and Vahlen idly wondered just how far she could push her time here before Winter would feel inclined to tell her to hurry up. Fortunately for her chaperone, Vahlen also had better things to do today.

"Well, looks like we're good to go." Grayson declared, "Your stuff is monitoring the CCTS's stuff, and my stuff is monitoring your stuff."

"And Specialist Schnee is monitoring us, so there's plenty of monitoring going around." Vahlen said, attempting a joke. She sighed when nobody laughed, "Well, my scroll is receiving data from your system, so I think we're all done here. Thank you for your help, Grayson."

"Anytime, ma'am. You'll have to show me some more of your software sometime. It's always interesting to get a fresh perspective about the tools of the trade, you know?"

Vahlen smiled, "I'd be happy to."

And who knows? Perhaps Vahlen would be spending a lot of quality time with Atlesian researchers after the festival was over and XCOM came out of the shadows. That would certainly be something to look forward to.