A/N: Holy shit, I'm pretty sure this is the largest chapter I've ever written. I had a lot I wanted to write, I guess.

I ran Weiss's arc by a couple of people before posting it, and the general consensus of the first draft was that it needed some work. I've since revised it, but I think I'm most interested in critique with respect to that sub-plot over the rest. It's important that I do a good job with Weiss, I think, since it's one of the more serious stories unfolding so far.

Desperado raised his hands as two huntsmen students leveled their weapons at him and the other two operatives standing at his side while the other half of BRNZ looked uncertain.

"Guys, I get the suspicion. I really do, but-"

"Shut up." Brawnz growled, "You're only alive right now because you haven't stabbed us in the back yet, but that only lasts for as long as I get some good answers on the shit we just watched."

"Have we not been giving you good answers for the past month?" The operative argued, "You took a chance on us because we've been open with you. How much of what you saw was new to you?"

Desperado knew he had to be careful with how much he pushed his luck. He felt like he'd made some good headway in forging a working relationship with these kids, but it didn't take a covert agent to recognize that Cinder's announcement had left the huntsmen rattled, and those saw blades aimed in his direction looked uncomfortably sharp.

"You could explain the hacking, for one thing." May said. Despite the sharpness of her words, Desperado could see that she didn't fully believe the broadcast's message. May's rifle hung loosely at her side, and she looked at the operatives, almost as if she were pleading for them to prove their innocence.

"The part where they flashed lines of code on the screen without showing how it's in any way linked to Amity?" One of Desperado's colleagues asked, "That was a scare tactic, plain and simple. I lost some good friends trying to save innocents from dying in that crash. We're the good guys, May, and we paid the price in blood to prove it."

"What do you call the lives lost in the effort to restore the CCTS?" Roy countered, "Is their 'blood price' not proof of their valor?"

Tense silence ensued when the operatives didn't have an answer for that one. Desperado wracked his brain for a way out of this mess. He knew he had to choose his words carefully, but he couldn't take too long finding the right ones.

"So what do you intend to do?" He asked, his voice lowered in an effort to bring the emotions back to a more comfortable level, "You've seen us in action. Not once have we done anything that would indicate we are here for nefarious reasons. The entire time you've hosted us here in Vacuo, you've watched us work to find answers to the questions raised at Vytal. Am I wrong?"

"… No." Brawnz admitted.

Desperado slowly lowered his arms, but made sure to keep them in clear view of the huntsmen as he continued to talk.

"At the same time, we all respect your right to be suspicious. A lot of cloak and dagger shit went on during our fight against EXALT, and we've been on your end of this situation more than once. It's not easy, I know, and I doubt it's something you've been trained for. After all, Grimm don't really do the whole spy thing, do they?

"So I know you're not sure if we're here to do the right thing, and I'm guessing you're confused about what the right thing even is at this point, but I think we can at least agree on one thing: Remnant needs good people right now. If you are concerned about XCOM's motives, then you can certainly be a force for good on your own. It looks like Cinder threw in a few digs at your reputation as huntsmen, anyway, so I'd say you guys could use the good publicity. Shit, publicly denounce us if that's what it takes to keep suspicion off of you. But regardless of what you do, we intend to keep doing the right thing the only way we know how. And if it's time for us to part ways, then so be it. But we will not stop searching for the truth." Desperado took a deep breath and looked Brawnz square in the eye, "Even if it kills us."

The two leaders held their gaze for a long time before Brawnz drew out a long sigh and lowered his weapon. "Shit…"

"We could hook them up with the nomads." May suggested, casting a glance at her leader, "I've spent some time with them before, and they definitely don't give a shit about politics. It would be a good way to keep these guys under the radar without putting ourselves at risk."

Desperado shrugged. "Works for us. We're ready to go anytime you are."

Brawnz nodded at May, and the sniper shouldered her weapon and looked back at the operatives. "Then let's get going. The nomads aren't easy to find, and roaming the desert during the day sucks. Might as well start while it's dark out."

Silence fell over the room as the screen went dark. It only took a few minutes for news operators from the various kingdoms to start firing up their broadcasting services as they jockeyed to be the first to cover the bombshell of a news story that just dropped, but nobody in Sage's small apartment felt like listening to that. Sun got up and slowly walked towards the television to turn it off while the other three members of SSSN stared at the agents sitting in the room with them.

Once the screen grew quiet again, Neptune started to address the Goliath in the room. "Sooooooo… that was a thing."

"That was a thing that definitely just happened." One of the operatives, Jansen, agreed.

"What do we want to do about it?" Sun asked.

Jansen sighed and rubbed his eyes, "Depends on how you four feel about us in light of the last five minutes."

"Seriously?" Scarlet said, incredulous, "You think some floozy says some fancy shit over the CCTS, and that somehow undoes all of our cooperation and hard work for the last month and a half?"

Sage nodded in agreement with his partner, "Why would we take her word over yours? Especially since you were already upfront with what XCOM's all about. She may have restored the CCTS -or taken credit for it, at least- but you guys were the ones saving lives when shit hit the fan."

"Damage is already done, though. Regardless of the truth, Ironwood is almost certainly going to have some choice words for XCOM after this shit." Jansen said.

"Then it's a good thing you're on a different continent." Neptune quipped. He stood up and hefted his weapon over his shoulder and looked at the rest of his companions, "C'mon. I was looking forward to a night in, but thanks to Cinder, it looks like we've got a lot of recon to do. Let's get to it."

Shit. Shit shit, fucking shit.

"Well, Weiss?" Jacques prodded as he glanced over at his daughter staring at the two bound men from across the room, "Is there anything you'd like to say to me? I was thinking something along the lines of 'Thank you Father for having the foresight to keep tabs on me. I had no idea that I've been working with criminals for the past month.' That might be a good place to start."

"I…" Weiss faltered. How was she going to play this? How could she play this? Her mind raced for solutions, and none of them ended with the two men walking out of here alive. She couldn't even acknowledge that she knew their names, Eshragi and Conrad, without making herself look even worse in her father's eyes. The fact that Jacques had decided to summon Weiss's younger brother (no doubt to embarrass her) didn't make the problem any easier.

"What's the matter, sister?" Whitley asked in the faux friendly tone he always reserved for her, "Doesn't father deserve some recognition for his actions?"

They don't know. Weiss reminded herself, All they have to go on is Cinder's claim. They don't know what XCOM really is, and I don't trust them enough to tell them.

"Or maybe…" Whitley continued, tapping a contemplative finger to his chin, "Just maybe, you sympathize with these terrorists?"

Before Weiss could recover enough of her composure to say something, their father offered a harsh (and uncharacteristic) rebuke for her. "Mind your tongue, and remember that you are talking to your sister."

To Weiss's surprise, Eshragi spoke up. "If it makes you feel better, you ungrateful little shit, the bitch never liked us to begin with."

Weiss choked on her breath while one of the guards slammed the butt of his rifle into the operative's gut.

"How dare you speak to a Schnee in that tone." the guard hissed.

"It's true." The other operative added, "Only reason she even deigned to work with us was because she thought we could get results that would help the SDC. 'Work faster, my family has a legacy to consider, and you're not getting me the results I need!' "

Weiss, dumbfounded, watched as the soldier spit on the floor and stared her in the eye, "What about all the innocent lives at stake, Ice Queen? Does anything aside from money matter to you?"

Weiss finally figured out what they were playing at. In the heat of the moment, desperate to maintain the charade, words tumbled unbidden out of her mouth, "I'm sorry, since when did doing the right thing turn a profit?"

Fuck. Fucking fuckity fuck. She was really doing this, wasn't she? Why was she doing this and not making a break for it with her friends? She vaguely remembered them telling her when they first arrived in Atlas that the mission came first and their lives came second, but this wasn't right. Fuck the mission. Fuck it to hell.

What had she done?

"Guards, I want these men executed for their actions, and for insulting the honor of my house and my daughter." Jacques ordered, his voice low and dangerous.

Wait… what?

Too late now. The guards shared a look that Weiss knew all-too-well. The "there is no way this is legal, but the idea of arguing a direct order from Mr. Schnee is even more terrifying" look. Before their hesitation lasted long enough to warrant punishment, they yanked the captives into a standing position and started to roughly march them out of the room.

The realization that she had just sentenced these men to death was still suffocating Weiss's thoughts when one of them shouted over his shoulder, "So that's it, huh? Gonna hide behind daddy's legs like a coward? Too afraid to get your hands dirty? Fuckin' knew you couldn't do your own shit, even if your life depended on it."

The second pin dropped, and Weiss's heart skipped a beat. She knew what Conrad was getting at, and the idea horrified her. But… they were committed now, weren't they? The Long War had hardened her into something far more mature than the stuck-up heiress that first stepped foot in Vale. She knew she could do this. But did she want to?

"Guards." Weiss commanded, barely suppressing a stutter, and the procession halted. Weiss moved across the room with all the grace she could muster (even if she felt none of it) as she continued to speak, "It would appear that these men are unwilling to give my family the respect that it deserves, and it would appear that they especially don't appreciate everything I've done to become worthy of my father's name."

She stopped ten paces away, brandished Myrtenaster, and cast the harshest glare she could summon at the two men. "I want these criminals, these traitors, in the garden plaza ten minutes from now. They will learn what it means to be a Schnee in the short time that is left in their miserable lives."

The corner of Conrad's mouth twitched ever-so-slightly as the guards resumed shoving their prisoners back towards the door. Just before they reached the exit, Weiss gave one more order, as if it were an afterthought.

"Make sure they're armed. Wouldn't want them to think that I'm still trying to give myself a handicap, would we?"

"The fuck was that shit?" Junior asked as his monitor went dark and he turned to look at the two operatives standing on the other side of his desk. They were in the middle of delivering their latest intel report when that crazy bitch showed up on what was apparently every network-connected screen in the world and threw a monkey wrench into Junior's plans. Or perhaps a pipe wrench would be more accurate.

"Your guess is as good as mine." The man, Omerta, said. "I have no idea what she was going on about with the whole Amity hacking thing. There was a virus in the station's system that caused the colosseum shields and gravity crystal to fail, but our science team was working to slow it down, not help it."

Junior raised an eyebrow. "And why should I believe that?"

"Have we ever lied to you?" Omerta countered.

No, and Junior had looked over everything the operatives reported on with a fine-tooth comb to try and catch them in a lie. They must have known going into this that trust would be their top priority (second only to "doing whatever Junior says," of course), because Hei failed to find a single instance of them not being completely forthcoming with any and all information they gathered.

"You're lucky that you're as good as Bradford promised." Junior sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Or I might be less willing to give you the benefit of the doubt."

"Probably helps that you've got the Twins permanently assigned to working with us. We'd be dead in seconds if we tried anything funny." The other operative, Ochoa, quipped, "Not that we blame you for being concerned, though."

Ochoa had a point. Sure, Cinder's claim about XCOM's nefarious goals had made Hei a bit concerned about whether or not Bradford had an ulterior motive in planting two of his operatives inside a criminal organization. Gaining a solid foothold in Vale's crime scene with a well-timed coup seemed almost too predictable, but nothing in the time since their arrival gave Hei any reason to believe that his new recruits were still working for their old boss. Junior deliberately had them away on some mission or another every time Bradford came by to do some business, they were swept for bugs or unapproved communication devices on a daily basis, and yes, Miltia and Melanie had basically become their handlers on ops. The combination worked well, fortunately: Omerta and Ochoa were prodigies at recon, and they frequently made use of the Malachites. Usually that meant clearing out Grimm that stood in their way (stab wounds tended to draw less attention than gunshots), though sometimes they got the opportunity to turn on their charm and distract a guard or tease some information out of a weak-willed city official.

So while it made sense to be concerned about Omerta and Ochoa, and where their loyalties lie, Junior had no intention of giving up two of his best assets simply because some crazy lady showed up on a screen and called them bad.

"Take it easy for a few days." Junior decided, standing up and looking out the window of his office and down on his establishment's main room, "Keep a low profile at the club, enjoy the amenities… then I want you heading out to the Agricultural District to follow up on this lead you found about the drug lord operating out of that area. As always, the Twins will have full authority to handle the situation as they see fit. They've worked with me long enough to know what's best for the business."

The operatives saluted and left without a word.

Bradford quietly watched and waited as more of Patch's townsfolk filed into the community's central courtyard. It looked fairly large when Ruby and Yang had taken Bradford on a tour of their hometown when the Avenger first landed on the island, but now the Central Officer wondered if it would be large enough to fit all the people coming to listen to XCOM defend itself against Cinder's accusations. Some of them looked confused, others angry or betrayed. Quite a few people didn't seem to care one way or another, and Bradford wondered if they were showing up simply because they wanted to see history in the making.

A decent number of familiar faces also joined the crowds in the plaza, and the Central Officer felt a little better about his chances when he remembered that he had quite a few local allies in attendance. Taiyang was something of a local hero, the quiet huntsman who lives on the edge of town and keeps the Grimm at bay. Even though Cinder had warned against the huntsmen, one warning would not be able to undo the years of blood, sweat, and dedication that Taiyang had put into Patch. Several members of the town's council also looked on with favorable expressions. Bradford had made the choice to confide in them the nature of XCOM in the hopes that they might be more willing to support his cause once they knew the truth about the situation. They would hopefully uphold the agreement to keep things secretive (for now), but perhaps they could try to guide the upcoming conversation in a direction that would help XCOM maintain the support of the people.

Dr. Shen and his daughter sat next to Bradford. While they, too, were XCOM, Lily's work in Patch had been more personal with the people. At her father's suggestion, she had taken it upon herself to practice her craftsmanship by meeting with the locals and trying to help them with their mechanical problems. Her project to develop a proximity warning system came about when several farmers complained that Taiyang had been available less often lately to perform his usual sweeps around the town and chase off any encroaching Grimm. Beyond that, she'd spend a lot of her 'work' days fixing hardware, repairing structures, and tinkering with electronics. Put simply, she represented the good of XCOM in the eyes of Patch, the girl with a glue gun who was always happy to lend a hand to anyone who asked. Bradford hoped that having her here would serve as a reminder that his organization was more than just soldiers who had a knack for shooting things.

The town elder stood up on Bradford's left and cleared his throat, and the plaza grew silent in an instant.

"It pleases me to see that we are able to remain civil, even in such… concerning circumstances." The man said with a gentle smile, "Although I still see a few more people trickling in, I think it would be best if we get started. The sooner we come to a consensus regarding matters at hand, the better."

"I think the sooner they leave, the better!" Someone shouted from the crowd, "Maybe they've been good to us, maybe it was just for show. I don't want no trouble, and if that lady really is what she says, then they'll be trouble."

"To hell with that!" Another voice shouted, "More work's been done around here in the last month than I've seen all year. These are good people, and some tart who claims to have fairy powers doesn't change anything!"

A rising murmur of conflicting voices and opinions rose like the tide as more people tried to add in their two cents. The crowd fell silent once the town elder held up his hand to restore order to the courtyard.

"Your concerns deserve to be addressed. We also owe it to our guests to give them the opportunity to defend themselves in the wake of this Cinder's accusations. Please give Central Officer Bradford your respectful attention, and he will repay your civility by answering your questions once he is finished." The man turned to Bradford, who nodded and took his cue to stand up and address the people of Patch.

"There is a fair amount of truth to what Cinder told you: XCOM is indeed a paramilitary group, and she is correct to say that we have revealed ourselves to only a few individuals, Ozpin among them. Given that you've seen what my teams can accomplish, and the technology that we use, it's hardly surprising that we prefer to keep ourselves out of the limelight unless absolutely necessary.

Deep breath. "Where she is wrong, however, is her insinuation that we do not have your best interests at heart. I lost a lot of good people during the Battle for Vale, all of whom I wish were standing with me here and now today. But they would sacrifice themselves again without a moment's hesitation if that's what it takes to do the right thing. I saw my operatives put themselves between innocents and a raging Beringel, helped them protect the thousands of people from Nevermore strikes as they desperately worked to evacuate the masses from Amity, and watched as they worked around the clock to secure and maintain a safe zone where countless people poured in who needed protection, shelter, and medical treatment." Bradford looked out over the silent plaza, "These are not the actions of a group putting up a facade of good will, but those of an organization willing to die in the line of duty so that others don't have to.

"I fully understand that this is a matter of my word against those of the woman who restored communication across the globe, but I don't intend to make you choose between words. Actions speak far louder after all, and it is on XCOM to show you, and the people of Remnant as a whole, that we are here with good -not ill- intentions."

No point in dragging his argument out longer than it needed to be. Not much more to say, anyway. The plaza was silent for a few moments before the first, and most obvious, question was asked.

"Why should we believe you?"

"There is nothing I can say or do at this moment to convince you that I am right and Cinder is wrong." Bradford acknowledged, "At the same time, the reverse is also true."

"But she brought the CCTS back online! That's gotta count for something, right?"

"And XCOM fought at the Battle of Vale, you idiot." Another person in the crowd shouted, "They've both done good things for the people."

"Nobody's an idiot for expressing their fears." Taiyang boomed from the side of the plaza. All eyes turned towards the local legend as he got up on a low planter wall to address the crowd, "We've stayed alive this long by getting our fears out into the open so that others could help us overcome them. Bottling those fears up, letting them fester and stew, that's what attracts the Grimm. In a time like this, where there's plenty of uncertainty and the threat of danger, we need to lay out all our fears so we can work together to put them to rest." Taiyang locked eyes with Bradford, "Including our fear of XCOM."

Whispers ran through the crowd as the people digested Tai's words. Bradford could see a lot of people were comforted by their resident huntsman adding his two cents to the conversation. Still, a lot of furtive glances were cast towards the Central Officer, with a few glares thrown in here and there.

"Do you fear XCOM?" A young child asked, and the crowd fell silent again as they waited for Taiyang's answer.

Tai shook his head. "I don't, but that's because my two daughters trust XCOM, and that is more than enough for me."

"I don't fear them, either." The child answered, "Miss Shen is a nice lady, and she always helps my dad when he asks. If XCOM has people like her, then they must be nice, too."

Dr. Shen stood up, and Taiyang gestured towards the front of the plaza so that the Chief Engineer could command everyone's attention.

"My dear, thank you for the kind words." He started with a smile at the young girl, "While I hope that Mr. Xiao Long's trust in our organization helps to assuage many of your fears, it would be disrespectful of us to assume that is all you need, and to leave it at that. You have graciously hosted us in your corner of the world, allowed us to repair our ship in peace, and even provided us with supplies and support. Such kindness cannot go unpaid. XCOM will not put you in the awkward situation of having to choose between our word or Cinder's, for while we do not yet know if her motives are as honest as she claims, we hope with all of our heart that she will be a force of good on Remnant. Our repair work is almost done, and we plan to be on our way by tomorrow evening. It is our hope that you will come to see that what we say is true, and that we might return in the future and be greeted with the hospitality and kindness that you have extended to us over these past weeks."

"Some of us may be wary of XCOM in light of Cinder's claims," The town elder said, "But the work you and your daughter did for Patch is undeniable. I think I speak for all of us when I say that it's been nothing short of a pleasure having you here, Dr. Shen."

A murmur of agreement echoed from the crowd. Even if they couldn't agree on whether or not XCOM would be bad news in the long run, nobody would dare speak ill of the Shens or their engineering teams. The Chief Engineer bowed his head in respectful acknowledgment of the town's gratitude. "I've only known Miss Rose and Miss Xiao Long for a short while, but it was quickly apparent that they had an excellent upbringing. While I originally thought that their father was solely responsible for raising such excellent children, it's obvious to see that they grew up in an equally wonderful community. If Patch is ever in serious need of help, XCOM will do whatever it can to help. It is the least that we can do."

After Dr. Shen sat back down, the plaza became quiet. The town elder took his cue to wrap the meeting up when it seemed like nobody had anything left to say.

"Thank you all for taking the time to attend. We certainly live in interesting times, and I think it is important for us to look out for each other whenever possible. That includes making sure everyone feels safe and that their voice is properly heard. If anyone has further questions for our guests before they leave, please let me know and I will see to it that Bradford or one of his associates makes time to meet with you and answer your concerns personally. For now, I think it's best if we all get back to work."

Bradford breathed a sigh of relief as he people of Patch filter out of the plaza. The elder walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "I appreciate your willingness to do this. You know that I personally have no concerns with XCOM, and I fully believe that your intentions are honorable, but it's important that the citizens feel their voices are heard."

A solitary voice cut through the rumblings of the crowd. "I'm coming with you."

Bradford and the elder glanced into the crowd, which parted slightly to reveal a young man staring back at the Central Officer. His eyes looked nervous, and the slight shaking of his hands betrayed his fear, but those hands clenched into fists and the man repeated his assertion. "I'm coming with you."

The crowd stopped its slow dispersion, and someone called out, "You can't be serious."

"I am!" The man shouted back, "XCOM helped us, and they are promising to help Remnant. I want to return the favor."

"Your hospitality has been more help than I think you realize." Bradford said, "You don't have to do this."

The man nodded. "I know I don't. But it's the right thing to do."

"I'd… I'd like to come, too."

A woman timidly stepped up next to the man, and looked up at Bradford, "I've spent some time helping gather medical supplies for Doctor Vahlen, a-and she's said that she's short on medical staff. I'm… pretty good with my hands. Cinder said to fight for the future we believe in, and… and I want to make a difference."

"Shit, I'm handy with a tool. Think you guys have room for a guy like me in that fancy machine shop you've got?"

Dr. Shen raised a hand to stop the momentum that was clearly building. His eyes shone with silent pride. "We would be happy to have you, but bear in mind that your community relies on your skills as well. If you truly wish to join us, speak about it in private with your council. Let them help you decide."

"And if we are still determined?" The man asked.

Bradford smiled. "Then who are we to say no?"

The knock on the door barely registered for Weiss out of her thoughts, and she didn't have the energy to play host for whoever felt like talking at her.

Not even Klein.

Knock knock.

Despite the fact that she distinctly did not give permission for anyone to enter, the door opened and Weiss glanced up to see her sister walk in. Rather than say anything, such as 'Hello, sister' or 'Get out of my room,' Weiss simply resumed examining her nails to make sure she didn't miss any flecks of blood.

To her credit, Winter patiently waited for an admirably long time for Weiss to acknowledge her beyond the initial glance. However, Weiss really wasn't in the mood to explain to Winter what had happened, and she was equally unwilling to waste breath telling her to leave. So her sister would have to settle for uncomfortable silence before getting the hint.

"Are you alright?"

Or perhaps sister dearest was intent on ignoring the hint. Perhaps a vacant-yet-incredulous look was in order, given the idiotic obviousness of the answer. Did Father put her up to this? If that were the case, Weiss probably should be giving an ice-cold answer along the lines of 'Of course I am. Those rats hardly scratched me before I put them down.' But at this point, she really didn't feel like playing their family's usual game of political bullshit.

"Weiss."

Nope. No way was she dealing with this right now.

"Weiss," Winter repeated.

"Do I look okay?" Weiss hadn't meant for it to come out as a whisper, but... there it was.

Winter sighed and sat down next to her sister on the edge of the bed. "The organization that you've spent the last two months working with has been branded as a group of terrorists. You and I both know that this couldn't be further from the truth, but only the people who were actually in the thick of combat with XCOM would recognize that, and they're not about to speak up against the hero of the hour responsible for the restoration of the CCTS. And then I hear that Father caught two of them, brought them here, and practically forced you to denounce them as traitors in front of him. And he brought Whitley along to gloat and rub your face in it."

"So no." Winter finished, "No, you don't look okay."

Weiss's eyes widened slightly when she realized her sister stopped her list at the capture of the operatives. She had no idea, did she?

And suddenly, the memories came flooding back.

Somehow, Weiss managed to convince her father to let her speak with the operatives one last time before the guards let them out of the mobile cells to begin the game of Cat and Mouse in the garden. 'To try and make them see the error of their ways before they die,' or some equally bullshit drivel. She walked with all the haughty poise and grace expected of her as she crossed the courtyard towards where the prisoners waited in their cells.

Once she reached them and was out of sight from prying eyes, the facade vanished and she looked imploringly at her two friends.

"You don't have to do this." She said, "We could make a break for it the moment they let you out."

Eshragi returned Weiss's plea with a wistful smile, "And ruin your connection with the SDC? That is a huge advantage that we can't afford to lose, and you know it."

"You're a huge advantage that we can't afford to lose!" Weiss argued.

"Shruggie's right." Conrad said, "Your family's influence will get you into a lot of places. Places with answers. But you need to play the part of the loyal daughter."

"We got careless, Elsa. This is simply our atonement." Eshragi leaned back in his cell and closed his eyes, "But even in death we can still be of use."

Weiss wasn't giving up, though. If they had to die, at least they could make it painless. "I know you have those pills. We can put on an act for my father, and you can chomp at the last second to make it quick."

Conrad gave Weiss a look. "C'mon kid, we know how your semblance works. It's gotta be you, and we gotta go down swinging."

"I just… don't know if I can do it." Weiss said, looking away. Killing aliens and Grimm, monsters that were trying to kill her unless she killed them first… that was easy. Killing her friends?

How?

"You can." Eshragi said, his smile warm now, "Because you are stronger than you realize. You're XCOM, after all."

Conrad grinned. "What was ol' Vance's favorite saying? 'We do what we must, because we must.' It's gonna hurt like hell, but you'll pull through."

"And we'll be right beside you. Every step of the way."

A tear rolled down Weiss's cheek. "I'm so sorry… I… I failed you both."

"Nonsense." Eshragi dismissed, "You are the best of us. And it will be an honor to serve as your bodyguard until you join us many, many years from now. Whatever you may think, and whatever happens, know this: I am proud of you."

Never in a million years would those words be anywhere as meaningful if they came from her wretched excuse for a father than they did coming out of Eshragi's mouth.

"Now go." The man said, "Before your father comes to see what's taking so long. It's time for you to do us one last favor. And then your work begins in earnest."

Weiss stepped away from the cells, her eyes locked onto her friends for a few more, selfish seconds. "I'll make it quick. I promise."

And with that, she spun around and strode away. She wasn't sure if she'd ever forgive herself for what she was about to do, but at least she wouldn't have to wonder how her friends felt in their final moments.

She'd never seen someone be so at peace with their death.

Winter must have seen something on Weiss's face (or perhaps on her nails?), or she pieced together that the bedroom had become so steamy because of the long shower Weiss had taken. Or maybe she finally realized that their father was evil enough to condemn two men to death without losing a wink of sleep over the decision. Whatever it was, Weiss could practically feel her sister's emotions plummet when it dawned on her what Weiss did.

"No…"

The silence between them stretched on for several minutes as Winter struggled to find the right words while Weiss didn't much care about saying anything.

As the silence continued, Weiss wondered what was Winter's point in coming here. Clearly she didn't come on Father's behalf. Neither of them particularly liked their father, and Winter was always blunt and to-the-point whenever he asked her to deliver a message or request to Weiss. There was no way Winter would do him any favors by trying to tease secrets out of Weiss by feigning concern to get her guard down. Winter might have been more of a drill sergeant than a sister at times, but the camaraderie and trust between sisters was real. Still, there had to be more to it than checking in on her little sister.

"Weiss, I…" Winter paused, choosing her words carefully, "Would you like to get a drink with me? It's always helped me clear my head when I'm distracted by too many thoughts weighing on my mind, and I think it would be good for you, too."

Weiss blinked. Her sister took the effort to come in here, make an appeal to Weiss's emotions… to invite her out for drinks?

What the fuck?

Coco tossed her duffel on top of her footlocker in one of the ship's barracks. She'd stowed all of her own personal effects in the container back when the ship first landed on Patch; this bag was simply a cache of her recent fashion acquisitions and trinkets that she picked up during XCOM's stay on the island. Plus, the town had much more comfortable bedding compared to the stiff-yet-efficient offerings found on the ship. Coco was relieved to discover that the Avenger at least had enough crew quarters to fit everyone currently onboard without the need for sharing beds. As much as she cared for her teammates (her partner in particular), Coco did not want to think about the prospect of dropping her tired ass into a bed, ready for some much-needed beauty sleep, only to discover that it was still warm (and probably a little dirty) from its previous occupant. No, her bed would be clean and well-kept so long as Coco was willing to maintain it. Something she was more than happy to do.

In any case, having her own bed would make the night terrors a little less embarrassing. So she had that going for her.

The door to the barracks opened, and Coco looked up to see Arslan walk in with a bag of her own. The Mistrali huntress dropped the bag by her bed a few paces down from Coco before falling back onto her pillow with a small sigh.

"Something on your mind?" Coco asked.

Arslan grunted something that barely qualified as a 'No' before offering a more coherent response, "That could've gone better."

Coco glanced over her glasses with a look of surprise, "It could have also gone a lot worse. I was half-expecting them to drive us out with torches and pitchforks after Cinder's little stunt. XCOM and huntsmen on the same ship? It's a miracle that the meeting was as civil as it was."

"Point taken."

"Do you know when we're getting out of here, though?" Coco asked, returning her attention to her bag. She'd begun to remove its contents so she could fold and stow the articles to avoid getting wrinkles in them, "I left early to dodge the crowds, so I missed the tail end of Bradford's powwow."

"Tomorrow, like Shen said during the town hall." Arslan answered, "Asked Bradford if he needed help. Said his engineers had it covered. Told me to catch some shuteye before the ship got…" Yawn, "Loud and busy."

"And the rest of your team?"

Silence followed Coco's question as she continued working on her laundry.

"Altan?"

A quick glance to her right revealed that Arslan had already passed out. Well, if there was still some downtime before Bradford had a need for the huntsmen teams, it looked like Coco had the opportunity to finish organizing her belongings. She could probably fit in some time for weapon maintenance (and personal maintenance… a shower sounded lovely) before waking up her fellow team leader and seeing how they could get the Avenger ready for its flight out of Patch.

Arslan had moxie, Coco had to admit. After chatting with a couple of the operatives, she'd learned that the kid had taken a serious shine to Major Durand and developed a drive to push herself (and her team) to their limit. Even after the rest of ABRN would take time off to rest and recuperate, Arslan would look for ways to make herself useful. Oftentimes, that meant sparring with Durand and teaching her the intricacies of Aura-enhanced hand-to-hand combat, but Arslan would find work even if Annette wasn't available. Maybe some time in the air would force Altan to take some R&R and help her realize that an exhausted leader was a useless one.

As time passed, other personnel filtered into the barracks and prepped for the long journey ahead. Everyone was considerate enough to keep the noise down so Arslan could sleep. Coco's own team also stopped by, though Yatsu could only stay for a few minutes since he promised to lend his considerable strength to help with final preparations. Coco chatted with Velvet for a bit while disassembling and cleaning her gun. She still felt a little uncomfortable thinking about all the destruction she'd caused with her baby, but time (and a few conversations with Apollo) had turned the sharp pain into a dull ache. Eventually, Coco had learned to use the pain as a means of treating her weapon with more respect than she once did, to understand that it had the potential to harm those she intended to help. Maybe it would be enough to get over her guilt, maybe it wouldn't, but at least Coco was able to pick up her gun again and pull the trigger without hearing the screams.

Eventually, the peaceful hours ran out, and Bradford's voice echoed over the comms, "Officers, please report to the bridge."

Velvet gave her partner a thumbs up and left for her post in the armory while Coco shook Arslan awake.

"C'mon, kiddo." Coco commented as the other huntress's eyes fluttered open, "That's us."

The duo trekked to the bridge without a word between them, as Arslan was still clearly working on waking up. Operatives passed them by in the halls, equipment in hand as they walked with a purpose to some deck or another. Coco noticed a couple of new faces, too: the non-combatants from Patch that disagreed with the "Cinder good; XCOM bad" sentiment and wanted to lend their skills to a group that clearly had a plan for figuring out what the hell happened at the Vytal festival. Coco wasn't about to complain: the Avenger was a pretty big ship and could always use a larger crew.

They reached the bridge a few minutes later to see it buzzing with activity. Big Sky sat at the helm while the other XCOM pilots manned secondary flight stations. With Bradford's (amused) approval, Beagle had retained his role as Captain of the ship, and so he stood at his semi-circular array of consoles a few paces behind the pilots. Vahlen had a small table set up on one side of the room where she could work with Penny to monitor the ship's systems and communicate with Tygan down in the repair bay and Shen on the power deck. It looked like Coco and Arslan were the last officers to make it to the bridge, as the rest seemed to be standing at ease along the back wall, chatting amiably with each other while they waited for liftoff. Coco counted six XCOM officers (including Durand) as well as Ruby and Jaune from the other two huntsmen teams currently traveling with the Avenger.

Bradford himself had found some space for a station of his own by the door that Coco and Arslan walked through. Compared to Beagle's command consoles, Bradford apparently elected for more of a minimalist approach. Coco guessed that his personal quarters were more elaborate, but Bradford's corner of the bridge consisted of a single, small console, a plain-looking chair, and a little bit of desk space. The Central Officer looked up when he heard Coco and Arslan approach, and he offered them a greeting as they entered the Avenger's command hub.

"Once we find a way to get back to Earth, I need to show you guys an episode or two of Star Trek." The Central Officer mused, "Because the only thing missing here are the gold, blue, and red shirts."

Coco shrugged. "If you can pull off here what you did back on Earth, you can make me watch whatever you like. So where are we headed?"

"That's what I wanted to discuss with the rest of the officer corps. I've got a few ideas, but I'm open to alternatives if one of you has a better idea. C'mon."

Bradford waved at the gaggle of officers to get their attention, and the group followed him over to Beagle's command station. Bradford stood behind Beagle while the rest of the officers stepped around to the other side of the semi-circular desk.

"Alright, team. It would have been nice if we could stay an extra week to get this rig buttoned up all nice and neat, but we don't have that option anymore if we want to stay on good terms with the locals. Now we need to determine where we're going, set a course, and come in quietly to avoid drawing attention to ourselves. Our science team performed a sweep of the ship and determined there aren't any tracking bugs, so as long as we give standard traffic lanes a wide berth, we should be good to go. So while we have the 'how' pretty well in hand, we need to establish the 'where.' The obvious choice is Atlas in order to regain contact with Sergeant Schnee and her covert operatives. Atlas is already the most militant kingdom, and I'm sure Cinder's little stunt didn't do any favors for our team stationed there. Not only that, but they are the technological powerhouse on Remnant. The sooner they get in bed with Cinder, the worse it will be for us.

"Alternatively, we need a base of operations. Somewhere we can withdraw to if we need to lick our wounds and reassess the situation. I don't want to rely on Patch for that purpose, especially since Atlas knows that this was our first stop. We need somewhere remote where we can set up shop, and somewhere that can hide an Atlesian cruiser without much difficulty."

Mountain Glenn might be a good place for that. Coco would bring it up if Ruby didn't. Bradford continued, "Of course, those are just two options that came to my mind for a first jump. We'll need to be careful about where we go so we don't overextend ourselves too soon. If you have any input or suggestions on our course, now is the time."

"I think Menagerie would be a good place to start." Ruby suggested. Coco raised an eyebrow. Of all the possible destinations, Menagerie wasn't high on her list. "I talked it over with Blake. Menagerie's laws and governance are more lax than the kingdoms themselves, so we might have some leeway in not drawing attention to ourselves as we try to feel out what's going on. Also, we didn't deploy any covert operatives to the continent, so we don't have anyone trying to develop a local network, and we don't have anyone keeping an ear to the ground for signs of trouble."

Made sense, though the fact that the Avenger's crew only had a couple of faunus might make the whole 'blending in' thing a little difficult.

"Finally, Blake's parents are… uh… very well-respected on Menagerie. Her father used to be the leader, apparently. If we're looking for easy allies for XCOM, the Belladonnas would be a really good place to start."

Bradford nodded. "That's a pretty solid case for making Menagerie our first stop. Any objections?"

"XCOM's going to stick out like a sore thumb." Coco commented, "I've been to Menagerie once or twice -the beaches are excellent, by the way- and one thing I noticed about the culture there is the vibrant colors and comfortable clothing. Our resident huntsmen will be able to fit in pretty easily, but XCOM? Your attire is a bit dark, and that'll catch some attention."

Jaune raised his hand, "Well, we've been stockpiling some supplies during our runs to Vale, and that includes clothing. Maybe you could work with Blake and try to put together some outfits that will help us look like locals?"

Coco grinned. "It would be my pleasure."

"Got one more objection for you, boss." Big Sky called out from his place, "Looks like Volt's crew still has a few kinks to work out on our propulsion systems. Metrics are reading a pretty short flight range."

Beagle tapped his console, paused for a moment to analyze what it displayed, and nodded in confirmation with Big Sky's assessment. "I'm having Mac check on it now, but it looks like a power supply issue." He looked up and offered a shrug, "We hauled back a lot of Dust from Amity, but this thing's a big beastie. We might need to spend some time scrounging for more power."

"I don't think we'll want to be crossing any bodies of water until R&D can work with Recon to get this issue sorted out," Big Sky agreed.

"Shit…" Bradford sighed, "Looks like we'll be going with the first plan, then. Any suggestions for a local, out-of-the-way site where we can put down?"

"Mountain Glenn." Coco answered, "It's an abandoned, remote ruin of a city expansion project that went sideways before it could ever take off. Should be easy to hide in the ruins, and we might even find something useful while we're there."

"RWBY was dispatched to Mountain Glenn for our first mission." Ruby added, "It's got a sizable Grimm population, but I agree with Coco that it's a good choice. The White Fang set up shop there with Roman before the Breach Incident. There's a good chance there's still some stuff left behind."

"I think we should still dispatch an away team to start working contacts in Menagerie," Annette noted.

Bradford nodded. "Agreed. Captain Rose, talk with Belladonna and coordinate a SpecOps team she can take with her to connect with her parents. I know RWBY is already down a huntress, but I think we can agree that this is important enough to warrant another split."

"No argument here, sir."

"So it sounds like we've got a game plan, then." Bradford said, "Good. Beags, work with our navigators and Captain Rose to map out a course that will keep us out of visual contact with the air traffic lanes, and we can make plans to prep recon teams to scout for supplies once we touch down."

Beagle gave the Central Officer a salute and turned to one of the various consoles on his desk. "I gotta admit, these maps are pretty detailed for a civilization that doesn't have satellite imagery. It shouldn't be a problem for me and Firebrand to get a route plotted with the information I've got on-hand. Would be nice to eventually figure out a way to get intel on traffic lanes, though."

"We'll work on it." Bradford promised, "For now, are there any questions?"

Jaune raised his hand. "Just one, sir. It's been bugging me ever since this issue with Cinder started."

"Okay…" Bradford said warily, "Let's have it, Lieutenant."

"Why are so many people taking what Cinder's selling at face value? Pyrrha transmitted that speech about unity in the face of danger, about how huntsmen all across the globe are willing to stand shoulder-to-shoulder to keep the Grimm at bay… how can people possibly believe Cinder's claims that the huntsmen are plotting against them?"

What was the Arc kid talking about? Judging by the blank stares from the other officers, it looked like Coco wasn't the one taking crazy pills.

Bradford broke the silence first, sounding just as confused as Coco felt. "Jaune, what speech are you talking about?"

"What do you mean what speech?" Jaune almost snapped, "The one that we fought Cinder to transmit! The one that's left Pyrrha paralyzed, because we needed to hold out against that crazy bitch long enough to let the people know what's going on!"

Ruby tried her best to calm down her friend with a soothing voice, "Jaune… there's… we didn't hear any speech transmitted over the CCTS. I don't think it got out."

The contorted mixture of emotions growing on Jaune's face made it difficult to tell if he was going to scream, cry, or break something. Finally he muttered a, "Permission to-" before cutting himself off and making a quick exit out of the room. Ruby looked at Bradford, waited for the Central Officer to give her an affirmative nod, and followed Jaune.

"I should probably help Rose deal with that." Bradford sighed, "The rest of you are dismissed. Annette, I want you to work with Beagle to develop an active duty roster for dispatching strike teams. We're a bit… understaffed at the moment, so I need all operatives to take rotations as non-coms. We can sort out the logistics later. For now, I want all teams reporting to Vahlen, Shen, and Tygan for assignments to get this boat sailing when we're finally ready for launch. Get to it."

The officers snapped a salute, and the group dispersed from the command deck. Coco and Arslan walked back to their quarters and found their respective teams waiting for them when they arrived.

"Figured you'd have orders for us after your little officer meeting." Reese chirped, "So where are we headed? What exciting adventures are we going on first?"

"Some place called Mountain Glenn, then probably to Menagerie afterwards." Arslan answered, "Blake's parents have some pull there with the faunus, so it's a good place to start looking for allies after we set up a local base of operations."

Velvet let out a cheerful hum at the news. "I haven't been to Menagerie in a while. It'll be nice to go back again."

The two teams chatted about Menagerie for a bit while they readied their gear. Coco found out that ABRN had never been, which wasn't surprising since they didn't have any faunus teammates and no other real reason to go to the continent. There wasn't really much to tell about Mountain Glenn, so the Mistrali students were happy to listen to what Velvet had to say about Menagerie instead. Coco could see the interest in their eyes as her partner described the port's water markets, the lush jungles, and the diverse array of inhabitants. A brief, comfortable silence fell over the group after Velvet finished a long, enthusiastic story about the desert wildlife before Nadir took the conversation in a different direction.

"This is really happening, isn't it?" He asked, "We're really going up against one of the maidens, and all the people who are supporting her?"

"Gotta stop being a student and start being a huntsman at some point." Fox said. He'd been quiet for most of the conversation, preferring to let Coco and Velvet do the talking, but offering insight into fear of the unknown was something he had experience with.

"Yeah, but you have to admit this is pretty crazy, right?" Bolin asked, backing up his partner, "The four kingdoms are still recovering from the Vytal festival, these XCOM guys are being branded as criminals, and while we know that's not true, I bet there's a good chunk of the world that's going to take Cinder's word for it. We're the good guys, or at least we're supposed to be, but people're gonna assume that we started this whole mess in the first place."

"Which is why we have to make things right." Arslan said, "Whatever Cinder's got planned, I don't think it's good. Bradford clearly doesn't trust her, and it's pretty telling that she's introducing herself to the world with a message of division and distrust. XCOM saved one world from an all-out war, and I think they can do the same with ours."

Fox jerked a thumb in Arslan's direction while grinning at Nadir. "Your boss has the right idea. I really suggest you keep her."

The ship's comms crackled to life, and the cheerful sound of Beagle's voice filled the room.

"Avast, me hearties. This is your Cap'n speakin' t'ye on our last evening before we cast off from our first port o' call."

Bradford's (slightly) annoyed voice shortly followed. "Beags…"

"-And as our helmsman plots us a course to new frontiers, I says to meself, 'Why Beagle… Ye've got yerself a ship. Ye've got yerself a crew. Looks to me like ye've become a pirate!"

"The List is still in full effect, Captain. Need I remind you that Rule 106-"

"Rule 106 can go walk the plank!"

The two teams of huntsmen looked at one another, and it became clear that none of them had the faintest idea what Beagle was talking about. However, it had taken far less than a month for them to learn of his… interesting reputation, so the unfolding conversation didn't exactly surprise them.

"At such a pivotal moment as this, at the cusp o' the true maiden voyage of the Avenger, the crew needs to get some fire in their blood as we make our final preparations! An' besides, we've got a couple o' landlubbers joinin' us, and I figures they could use a hearty welcome. Part o' the ship, part o' the crew."

"PART O' THE SHIP, PART O' THE CREW." Coco jumped slightly at the volume of the chorus shouting back at Beagle.

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

"So I'll be turnin' the horn over to me first mate ta lead you all on what I expect ta be the first o' many sea shanties that ye'll be learnin' during yer stay on the good ship Avenger. These tunes be important fer a pirate crew, an' they'll make yer work a touch more enjoyable, I promise ye. Take 'er away, Mac."

"Bradford?" Tygan asked.

"Nope. You don't get an explanation, Doctor. Because there isn't one."

As the teams continued to stare at the speaker in the barracks, Velvet let out a quiet giggle. "I think I'm going to enjoy working with XCOM."

Tygan started to say something else, but MacAuley's voice drowned him out. "ALRIGHT YE SCURVY SCALLYWAGS. Now I don't expect the fresh meat to know the words jus' yet, but ye better be takin' notes. Cap'n Beags runs a tight ship, an' an inspired crew be a hard workin' crew. Learn the shanties, live the shanties, an' ye better damn well work to the shanties. Now listen up. As ye may have noticed, I've taken the liberty of modifying the RX/TX-"

"The AARRRRRRRR-EX, ye mean."

"Yes, Cap'n. Thank ye. The comms have been modified to allow multiple inputs into the system to be relayed simultaneously. So yer all welcome -nay, ENCOURAGED- ta sing along as ye see fit. I'll also remind the veterans that if ye are caught shirking your honor-bound duty of leadin' the fresh meat in this important tradition, then there'll be floggin's until ye've learned yer lesson. Now here we go…"

"He said this was a working song, right?" Coco asked, standing up, "So we might as well get out there and pitch in. Or watch the show, at least."

The rest of the group got up and started for the door as MacAuley started his tune.

"Now we are ready ta head fer the horn!"

Almost immediately, the operatives chorused back.

"WEIGH, HEY, ROLL AN' GO."

"Our boots and our clothes, boys, are all in th' pawn."

"TO BE ROLLICKIN' RANDY DANDY O!"

Even though the comms drowned out just about everything else, Coco could already hear the voices of operatives down the hall shouting back at Mac as they recited their part of the song.

"Heave a pawl, oh, heave away!"

"WEIGH, HEY, ROLL AN' GO."

"The anchor's on board an' the cable's all stored-"

"TO BE ROLLICKIN' RANDY DANDY O!"

By now they could see operatives (or crewmen, Coco supposed) moving in time with the beat of the song, unpacking crates, tossing bundles of equipment to one another, running cables, and tying ropes.

"Catch!" One of the operatives called out, and Coco chuckled as Arslan found herself with a satchel in her arms.

"Oh, man the stout caps'n and heave with a will."

"WEIGH, HEY, ROLL AN' GO."

"For soon we'll be drivin' her 'way up th' hill."

"TO BE ROLLICKIN' RANDY DANDY O!"

"The boys in the machine shop could use those." The man explained, "The Shens are getting some gear for the flight deck rigged up to help keep our bullhead secure."

Several more bags of equipment were thrown at the huntsmen (three were chucked at Yatsuhashi alone), and the two teams started their purposeful march down to the engineering bay. The song continued, and Coco was surprised at how effective it was at getting everyone moving in a lively fashion. Operatives grinned and saluted the huntsmen as they passed, and the 'can do' atmosphere only further encouraged Coco to move with a purpose.

"Heave away, bullies, ye parish-rigged bums!"

"WEIGH, HEY, ROLL AN' GO."

"Take yer hands from yer pockets, an' don't suck yer thumbs."

Without any prompting, the CFVY and ABRN belted out the chorus.

"TO BE ROLLICKIN' RANDY DANDY O!"

"That's the spirit!" A passing operative called out.

The group skipped down the stairs, marched along the hall, and found themselves in the spacious and noisy machine shop that had become the residence of Dr. Shen. Even in here, among the noise of the machines and the pounding of hammer, the engineers and operatives could be heard cheerfully singing along at MacAuley's direction. Even some of the Patch volunteers who decided to make themselves useful with the mills and lathes were starting to get into the swing of the song.

"We're outward bound for Vallipo Bay."

"WEIGH, HEY, ROLL AN' GO."

"Get crackin' me lads, it's a hell of a way."

"TO BE ROLLICKIN' RANDY DANDY O!"

Lily looked up from her worktable at the sound of the two teams singing along, and she waved them over with a smile. The huntsmen dropped their supplies at the foot of the workbench, and the young engineer wasted no time in rooting around in the sacks to see what goodies had been delivered to her.

"Heave a pawl, oh, heave away."

"WEIGH, HEY, ROLL AN' GO."

"The anchor's on board an' the cables all stored."

"TO BE ROLLICKIN' RANDY DANDY O!"

"Perfect…" Lily cooed as she set the wiring, tools, and hardware on the table, "Yatsu, could you help Nicho with the mill down on the end? He's machining the big stuff, and it's pretty heavy."

"Of course."

"Right, where do you need me?" Reese asked, looking around and cracking her knuckles. Coco had heard that the huntress was pretty handy, even spending some of her downtime over the last month in the machine shop. It made sense, given the technical complexity of her hoverboard, and the way Lily beamed told Coco that the two had spent more than a little time working together.

"Grind could use a hand. I'll be over in a little bit myself."

MacAuley's shanty started to wind down, as the chorus started draw out the syllables of each line.

"Heave a pawl, oh, heave away."

"WEIGH, HEY, ROLL AN' GO."

"The anchor's on board an' the cables all stored."

"TO BE ROLLICKIN' RANDY DANDY O!"

A single pair of clapping hands followed the end of the song, followed by Beagle's cheerful voice.

"Well done, me hearties, well done I say! An' don't think I didn't hear ye singin' along, Central. I'll melt that cold heart of yers, even' if I need ta' enlist one o' th' MECS to lend me their flammenwerfer."

"What's a flammenwerfer?"

"Good question, crewman Rose! A flammenwerfer is a weapon that werfs flammen."

"What do you need the rest of us to do?" Coco asked.

Lily glanced back at the machines chugging away behind her, trying to assess the situation at a glance. "Shop's humming pretty good at the moment, so we could probably use you on the flight deck unless you really had your heart set on getting greasy with the machines." Coco raised an eyebrow and Lily sighed. "That… sounded better in my head. A-anyway, we've got some hardware that's ready to be moved up to the tarmac. The winds are making it a bit hazardous to work up there, but we've got a couple of Albatross pilots standing by to catch anyone who takes a tumble. And besides… you huntsmen have a way with mobility that's something else."

"Can't argue with that." Arslan quipped.

"I'll do a quick roundup run through the shop to get all the stuff that's ready for you." Lily said, standing up and putting her work gloves on.

Coco watched as the young girl disappeared into the shop. "Now there's a motivated kid if I've ever seen one. She probably would've made a good huntress if she was from around here."

"Probably." Velvet agreed, "But it's comforting to know she's got our back down here in the repair bay."

"Aaaaaaaaalright, me hearties! That's enough of a break, I would say. After all, there's still plenty o' work ta be done, and plenty o' time ta do it."

"Why, Beags."

Weiss glanced at her sister as the two of them stepped into the divey-looking bar. By now, she'd figured out that her sister didn't want to be overheard by prying ears in the manor (which only served to make Weiss even more curious as to what Winter wanted to say), but couldn't they find a nicer bar to have their conversation? Apparently not, and Weiss sighed as Winter stepped through the (slightly rotting) door without so much as a grimace and into the unsurprisingly empty establishment. The barkeep in the back looked up, saw Winter, and raised an eyebrow. Whatever signal Winter gave him, Weiss couldn't tell, but the man nodded stepped out from his station behind the counter to lead his two guests behind a curtain, around a corner, down a short flight of stairs, and into a dimly-lit room.

Winter offered a polite 'thank you,' and their host bowed and excused himself without a word while Weiss looked around at their dingy accommodations.

"I usually use this room for interrogations." Winter explained as she locked the door and stepped around the small table and towards a cabinet on the far side of the room, "But I do keep some luxuries in here in case I feel the need to get away for a bit and clear my head."

Winter opened the cabinet to reveal several rows of liquors and spirits, and she glanced back at Weiss with a questioning eye, "Any requests?"

Was she even in the mood for alcohol? Getting out of the mansion with Winter helped pull Weiss out of the dark corners of her guilty mind, but the idea of knocking back drinks still felt incredibly wrong.

"Water." Weiss said.

Winter raised an eyebrow, but only offered a simple "Fair enough" before she busied herself with preparing their drinks.

Weiss continued to examine the room with passing curiosity. After Winter had mentioned interrogations, the occasional dry and faded blood stain on the table and walls made more sense. What kind of interrogator was Winter? Did she frequently resort to violence, or did she try to use intimidation and scare tactics for as long as possible to get what she wanted?

Before she followed that chain of thought too far, something on the table caught her eye.

"Do you… ever bring anyone down here that isn't the subject of an interrogation?" Weiss asked as Winter set down a glass in front of her.

Winter took a seat across from her sister and considered the question while she sampled her own glass. "I've had drinks with an associate or two, upon occasion. I try to avoid inviting other people to this place, though. The fewer people that know about it, the better. I don't have to worry about it becoming compromised that way."

"So... you only invite people that you really, really trust?" Weiss mused.

"Yes…" Winter answered warily, "Why do you ask?"

Weiss decided it would be a good idea to not mention the note scratched into the table that said Qrow was here, and opted to get to the point of why Winter made the effort of bringing her to this room. "No reason. So what is it that you want to talk about?"

Winter paused, as if deciding between which of two topics she wanted to pursue first. She finally seemed to decide, and she asked, "Can you show me?"

"Show you what?" Weiss asked, blinking.

"You… killed them yourself, right?" Winter asked, "I was slightly surprised when I heard Father singing your praises this afternoon, but now it's starting to make sense."

She locked eyes with Weiss and asked again, "If you killed them, can you show me?"

Weiss figured out what Winter meant. The undertone of reverence and respect in her sister's voice helped Weiss make her decision, and she pulled Myrtenaster off her hip while she stood up from the table and focused her thoughts on the recently departed.

She thrust Myrtenaster into the floor, and two glyphs flowered into existence behind her, and a white flash filled the room a few moments later. Weiss didn't need to look back to know that her friends stood at her five and seven o'clock. The impressed look on her sister's face told Weiss enough.

I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. I fear no evil for thou art with me.

Weiss could practically hear Conrad laughing at her use of such a cliche and overused quote, but she couldn't help it. A small amount of confidence surged through her soul as she practically felt Eshragi's smile on her back.

"What were their names?" Winter asked, her voice quiet as she looked upon the apparitions.

"Their earned callsigns were Osiris and Odin." Weiss answered, a hint of pride leaking into her tone, "I'll explain the meaning behind the names to you someday, if you're interested."

"I might be." Winter admitted, "I would also be interested in hearing stories you might have about the time you spent with them. At the risk of sounding presumptuous… I think they would have liked for you to remind yourself of their heroics."

Weiss dispelled her summons and sat back down at the table. Whether her sister's interest was feigned or not, it helped her feel less shitty about herself.

"I won't pretend to understand how much pain you're in right now." Winter said, "But I have experienced loss of my own. If there's anything I can do to help you work through yours…"

For all of the times Weiss complained privately about Winter's harsh personality and strict expectations, she had to admit that she was lucky to have such a sister.

"Thank you, Winter. I'll probably take you up on that. Was there something else you wanted to discuss?"

Winter let out a quiet sigh. It almost sounded as though she'd rather spend more time talking about Weiss's friends than whatever else was on her mind.

"Listen," Winter started, pausing to choose her words carefully, "I… I'm not sure what's going on in Atlas. During my time as a Specialist in the service of our kingdom, I've seen a lot of weird phenomena and dealt with a lot of criminals with delusions of grandeur, but nothing has come close to the global scale that we're seeing unfold right now. Whether or not this Cinder truly is the new Fall Maiden, which has its own set of huge implications, we just experienced the most horrific terrorist attack that Remnant has seen since The Great War. That happened for a reason, and we still don't know why."

"Pretty convenient for Cinder that this catastrophe happened to allow her to win global trust with minimal effort." Weiss said.

"Or she really was a friend of Amber, and her friend's death inspired her to make a difference in the world." Winter countered, "And while I'm not sure I believe that, the point is that we don't really know. And that bothers me."

Weiss remained silent. She knew that Winter's hypothetical about Amber and Cinder being friends was utter horseshit, but she suspected that Winter knew that as well. Her sister was trying to make a point, so Weiss didn't see a need in calling her out on it.

Winter continued. "I trust General Ironwood, and I've watched him work himself ragged this last month as he strives to keep Atlas safe. I don't think he's taken a day off since the attack, and I don't think he will until he's confident that something like that won't happen to our people. I don't blame him, either."

"Okay…"

"It's taking some time to get to the point, I know. I'm getting there, I promise." Winter sighed and stared into her glass, "We've found nothing in the last five weeks, and Ironwood had become somewhat desperate to… achieve success, big or small. More than that, the heads of our government have become rather forceful in their demands that the General starts producing results. Quickly."

Well that sounded like a recipe for disaster.

Winter continued, "He's reached out to a lot of people and organizations during his work, and while many of his choices are logical and have a good chance of yielding good results, there are some that I know he wouldn't even consider in any other situation. People with no scruples, who care only for the acquisition of power and nothing for the lives at stake in light of the Vytal calamity. But the government is starting to get cagey, and they want results. Even if it means they demand that Ironwood starts scraping the bottom of the moral integrity barrel."

"Like our-"

"Yes." Winter said, cutting off her sister with a pointed look, "But worse. One of Ironwood's latest 'associates,' while he's not able to help with the information-gathering side of things, has promised the General technology that will drastically improve the capabilities of Atlas's military. To better protect our borders and keep the citizens safe, supposedly."

Weiss shrugged, "Sounds pretty par for the course to me. When aren't we improving our military?"

Winter shook her head, "We're talking biological enhancements, not advances to our mechanical divisions. This man, a scientist, supposedly, claims he can modify our soldiers to improve their strength, accuracy, reaction times… it sounds too good to be true, especially since he refuses to provide any details about his methods." Winter rolled her eyes, "Some bullshit about 'protecting his intellectual property.'"

That did sound pretty suspicious, Weiss had to admit. Her experience with Vahlen's gene mods reminded Weiss of a quote about playing with the Devil's toys. At the same time, though…

"We did just suffer the most humiliating and comprehensive hack on our mechanized forces at the Vytal Festival." Weiss pointed out. "I can see why Ironwood might be willing to pursue this scientist's research, even if the circumstances are a tad concerning."

Given the dark expression currently on her sister's face, it seemed like there was even more sketchy information about this man than Winter had already given.

"Does the scientist have a name?" Weiss asked, "Maybe I'll recognize it."

Winter got up out of her seat and started to pace with her glass in hand. "He goes by Dr. Merlot. Supposedly he had a lab in Vale, but he ran into some 'trouble' with the Kingdom's council. Atlas's own top brass apparently doesn't see this is an important red flag, at least not important enough to warrant due diligence, and put pressure on Ironwood to allow him to do his research here so that Atlas benefits from his work. A lot of pressure."

Weiss shrugged. "Never heard of him."

"What's frustrating is that he's actually producing results." Winter said, ever-so-slightly gritting her teeth, "Ironwood agreed to a trial run of Merlot's tech with a small batch of volunteer soldiers. He took them into his lab, did his thing behind closed doors, and returned to Ironwood with super soldiers."

That sent a small shiver down Weiss's spine. "On par with huntsmen?"

"Not that good, thankfully. But they easily placed in the top percentile of all the standard metrics we use to gauge soldier proficiency." Winter furrowed her brow, and her speech grew faster as she became more agitated, "Honestly, they make the rest of our ground troops look incompetent by comparison, which is making Merlot even more smug about his work. And nobody knows how the hell he makes it work, since his one condition was that he and he alone performs the modifications. But nobody's going to care, since he can apparently produce results. None of the enhanced soldiers have complained about side effects. None of them said anything about any dark secrets in Merlot's lab. And while Ironwood has expressed his doubts to me in private, his hands are tied because of the success of Merlot's fucking program. Something doesn't sit right, with either of us, and yet it would be political suicide to choose this hill to die on. And so, of course, the government wants to fucking accelerate the program!"

While the news was somewhat concerning, Winter was getting far more worked up about this than Weiss expected. The elder Schnee took a swig of her drink and slammed the glass on the table.

"… Are you alright?" Weiss asked quietly.

Winter stared off into space for a long time, and Weiss wondered if her sister even heard the question. She was about to ask it again when Winter finally said, "Ironwood asked me to volunteer as part of the next batch of soldiers for Merlot's science project."

And suddenly it all came together. "But... I thought you said he didn't trust Merlot?"

"Which is why he wants someone he does trust to go through the enhancement process. Someone who is stronger, both mentally and physically, than the average soldier, who can keep an eye out for anything malicious, who will actually report any fuckery rather than just be excited about the upgrades. If our suspicions are correct, we need to be able to shut down the whole farce quickly. And the fastest way is to put me through the assembly line."

That didn't make sense, though. If Merlot wanted being so careful about keeping his methods a secret, surely he'd be aware of how easy it could be for one of his patients to report everything to a superior after undergoing the surgery. Maybe he'd be confident that knocking out the patient before starting the work would be enough to keep his secrets safe, but that seemed like a risky bet to take. Something didn't seem right, Weiss guessed that Winter knew that, and now the uncharacteristic anger and agitation made sense. For whatever reason, Winter would not be able to talk her way out of going through with this (whether it was because she realized she needed to take one for the team to try and reveal Merlot's secrets, or saying 'no' to Ironwood simply wasn't an option), and she was trusting Weiss with a heavy secret.

Weiss wasn't about to spit in the face of that trust. "How can I help?"

"I'm not asking you to do the operation in my place, obviously." Winter said with a slight, bitter smile, "Nor would I allow it even if you tried to offer. But I would like you to accompany me to the facility when I go in for the procedure. It only takes a couple of hours, supposedly, and I would like for you to be there for me when I come out. Beyond that… I'm not sure. But my hope is that letting you know of this would allow you to keep an ear to the ground, or to keep an eye on me if you see me doing anything unusual. If you see or hear something -anything- that Ironwood needs to know about, you go straight to him. And then you report it to your remaining covert operative from XCOM."

Weiss's jaw dropped, "How…?"

Winter's smile turned into a smirk. "Have a little faith in your sister's spycraft, Weiss. You think I didn't notice them on the flight over from Vale? Now come on. I need more than one stiff drink before we're done here tonight. Why don't we enjoy ourselves for a while longer, and you can tell me some stories about the 'Valean Recon Division,' hmm?"

A/N: One final thing I'd like to add is that the Discord server I launched when I posted the last chapter has been a resounding success. We've got a lot of people swinging by to say hello, and a core group of people who I chat with almost daily. It's been a huge help in brainstorming a lot of neat ideas for the story going forward, and the shitposting is absolutely glorious. If you've been on the fence about checking it out, I wholeheartedly recommend you poke your head in and see what we've got.