A/N: You know how sometimes you've got a scene or setpiece that you're really excited about, but it's several chapters away? And then you finally get to it, and you finally get to write what's been rolling around in your head for weeks or months? There's a couple of those in this chapter.

"Decided to finally grace me with your presence, did you?" A snarky voice called out as Bradford shut the door behind him. He walked down the hallway with Annette in tow, passing by the pair of on-duty guards who offered a silent salute to the Central Officer. Annette caught Bradford's eye and the two of them shared a nod before Bradford answered.

"Figured you'd want some time alone after I reunited you with your partner in crime."

The Central Officer had originally planned to bring Ruby as his psionic backup, but decided against it when he realized that Torchwick would probably be less… amenable to holding a conversation if it looked like Bradford was trying to taunt him with 'Red.' The duo took the last couple of strides and looked into Roman's cell. The prisoner sat in a chair against the back wall, his legs kicked out and his hands folded casually behind his head while he smirked at his guests.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about." Roman drawled, gesturing around the empty cell while Bradford and Annette pulled up a pair of chairs and took a seat on the other side of the bars, "The only person you threw into this dump is me. I mean really… I've been on this barge for all of an hour, and you're already trying to play head games with your hostage? You really need to work on your hospitality."

Annette rolled her eyes with a sigh, "Are you going to tell Neo to come out from the corner, or would she like to find herself screaming and retching on the floor again?"

"Major." Bradford said, feigning a reprimanding tone, "We're here to have a chat with our guests, not to get them riled up."

Annette dropped into her chair and folded her arms as she stared evenly at Torchwick, "Right, right. I'm just here to keep him from pulling any funny business. Go ahead and have your little chat while I daydream about ripping his brain apart, neuron by neuron."

"Are all of your little toy soldiers this creepy?" Roman asked, keeping a wary eye on Annette's hardened face while he talked with Bradford, "Because if they are, then I'd like to get off… if you don't mind."

Bradford shrugged, "I mean, can you blame her? You did turn one of her close friends into a bloody mess."

"You should tell your guard dog that it was just business. I'm sure she understands." Roman quipped as he leaned back in his chair. The hairs standing up on the back of Bradford's neck told him that Annette disagreed with their prisoner's statement.

"Would it just be business if I let my guard dog murder your little friend right here and now instead of holding her captive?" Bradford countered. Torchwick's face contorted into a look of fury that the Central Officer had not yet seen from his prisoner, and Bradford smirked. "Act cool and cavalier all you like, Roman, but remember: I hold all the cards in this game. Sure, you're more useful to me alive instead of dead, but I don't need you. If push comes to shove, I will find another way to get what I want. So why don't we stop worrying about Major Durand for now and get to what I came down here for."

"Which is…?"

Bradford got up from his seat and opted to lean against the frame of the prison cell with his arms crossed instead. "I've been told that you live life by four simple tenets: lie, cheat, steal, and survive. I'm thinking that the fourth is a little more important than the other three for you right about now."

"Trying to put on your big boy pants and intimidate a criminal mastermind, are you?" Roman laughed, "Because it's not working."

Bradford rolled his eyes. "Please. I would have hoped you'd have a little more respect for me than that. I'm trying to put on my big boy pants and appeal to your sense of reason. You're stuck here, your jailbreak buddy is standing right next to you, and we have round-the-clock guards making sure you stay that way. You're not going anywhere, and unless you do something to change my mind, you won't be going anywhere for a very long time."

"You think you're some sort of big shot, don't you?" Roman sneered, "You've got your little soldiers, a sort-of-functioning ship, and you think you can strut around like you own the continent? Well let me give you a piece of free advice: you're fucked. You want to talk about reason and trying to survive? Maybe you should have taken a closer look at the other horse before you decided to back the loser in this race."

"Again with the idioms…" Bradford mused for a moment before returning his attention to the rest of Torchwick's comment, "So you think She's that powerful, then? Powerful enough to confidently say that she'll beat me without even knowing what my organization is capable of?"

"I saw what your minions can do when they tried to stop the chaos at the Vytal Festival." Roman pointed out, "So far, I have to say that I'm pretty unimpressed."

"Says the man sitting on his ass in a prison cell."

"After it took a squad of fifteen people to take me down. And after I killed four of them."

"Do you really want to bring that back up with me sitting right here?" Annette asked with a raised eyebrow.

Bradford pushed off from the wall with a sigh. "Well, it seems like we're having fun going round in circles here, but I was hoping for something a little more productive. Perhaps I'll swing by here again after you've had a chance to see my operatives in action." He picked up his chair and glanced back at Torchwick, "And maybe the boredom of sitting in a jail cell doing nothing for months might help you cool off a bit."

"You think I'll be stuck in here for that long?" Torchwick laughed, "You're even dumber than she looks."

"We could always break up the monotony by letting Vahlen get her hands on him." Annette muttered under her breath.

"Took the words right out of my mouth." Bradford quietly responded as the two of them left the brig. It was still worth keeping Roman around for now, in the off-hand chance that he might eventually cough up something useful. However, perhaps he could ask Shen to come up with a less labor-intensive solution to keeping eyes on their prisoner.

Pyrrha let out a quiet sigh at the sound of a knock on her door.

"Come in." She said. Not like she was doing anything in here, anyway. Sure, maybe Vahlen thought Jaune was in here with Pyrrha (which, in fairness, would be a pretty solid bet) and didn't want to interrupt the two huntsmen, but the four-time-Mistrali-champion-turned-helpless-cripple was alone for the time being.

As expected, Vahlen walked in with her usual cart of equipment, toiletries, and food. The smile on the Doctor's face was genuine, but Pyrrha found herself struggling to reciprocate her caretaker's optimism. Vahlen parked the cart at the foot of Pyrrha's bed and took a seat next to her patient. Pyrrha continued to look straight ahead and waited for the Doctor to get on with whatever activities she had planned for the visit.

"Good afternoon, Pyrrha." Vahlen greeted, "How are you doing this afternoon?"

"Fine." The huntress answered. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Vahlen nod.

"Any changes to your condition that you'd like to report?"

"No."

The Doctor's fingers tapped away on her tablet as she started to take notes.

"Any unusual pain?"

What a stupid question. "No."

"Any issues that I should know about?"

"No."

"Any questions that I can answer?"

Sure. Lots. "No."

Vahlen sighed, "Very well. Would you like to start with your lunch or your hygiene?"

"… Hygiene, I guess."

Might as well get the most humiliating part of the day taken care of. A reminder that she now needed help with literally everything that didn't fall under 'breathing' or 'holding a conversation,' though now it seemed like even that was slowly becoming something Pyrrha struggled with. She tried to let her mind wander while Vahlen grabbed supplies from the cart and busied herself with her usual routine. While the places her mind traveled to these days tended to be of the darker variety, anything was better than keeping herself in the present. At least Vahlen was kind enough to keep the room locked during their daily ritual so that Pyrrha didn't have to deal with the moritification of others seeing her like this.

This… Pyrrha had come to terms with the fact that this wasn't going away. Her Aura had regenerated a few short hours after she'd woken up next to Jaune, and it had plenty of time to to fix this. But it didn't, and Pyrrha was left in a state where she couldn't do anything but rest, sleep, and talk to anyone who bothered to stop by her corner of the medical wing.

She'd been surprised at how bitter she'd become. Sure, full-body paralysis was horrible, but at least she didn't die from her tower fall. Jaune did his best to visit her as often as possible, and the rest of JNPR and RWBY would stop by from time to time to see how she was doing. Dr. Tygan had extensive experience in genetics and biochemistry, and so there was some hope that somehow, maybe, he'd be able to do something to fix her. But with only rudimentary tools on hand (and other, more important matters that required his attention), Pyrrha didn't expect him to throw all his resources at fixing her in the near, or even intermediate, future.

Why did she deserve it, anyway? She was a failure. A world-class, renowned champion huntress for the better part of her professional career, and she couldn't even win the most important fight of her life. She needed Jaune to save her from becoming an insignificant blood smear at the base of Beacon tower, and becoming a cripple was the penance she deserved for failing to protect Vale. Because of her, who knows how many innocent lives were lost once the CCTS ceased to function? Why did she deserve to live and they didn't?

The cruelest joke of all, though, was the fact that she couldn't even atone for her sins. All her friends were outside, hard at work helping XCOM get back on its feet and she was stuck. Stuck, and forcing people like Vahlen to spend time away from their own work to help her live. Pyrrha wasn't just useless: she was making others useless as well. And yet, they would hide behind words and phrases like "Earth owes you a debt that could never be repaid," or "You were one of Mistral's best, and I believe you will be again."

Well, she was 'well on her way to being Mistral's best' by getting rolled over onto her side by Vahlen so that the Doctor could get to work.

Almost by instinct now, Pyrrha's mind replayed the tower fight on repeat as she fought in vain to figure out where her critical mistake had been. After spending days going over the battle again and again and again, Pyrrha was almost certain that her memory had begun to twist the events into something more dramatic, more crushing than what had actually happened. It didn't stop her from thinking through the events for the thousandth time. Every missed parry, every blocked counterattack, every misstep stood out like a painful memory as Pyrrha's brain walked her through the showdown with Cinder. Perhaps her penance wasn't to help make things right again, but to instead suffer as a prisoner of her own mind until the world managed to fix her mistake.

Pyrrha's vision returned to the ceiling as Vahlen rolled her onto her back once again, and the sound of a wash cloth getting dipped into a bucket of water indicated that Pyrrha's caretaker had moved on to the far less denigrating step of washing her hair.

"Why are you doing this?" Pyrrha asked.

Vahlen hummed questioningly from her position behind her patient as she massaged shampoo into Pyrrha's voluminous tresses, "Doing what?"

"This." Pyrrha repeated, "This whole thing we do, day after day. Surely you can get someone else, an orderly or something, to deal with me while you work on more important problems. You've got a ship that needs fixing, don't you?"

The Doctor didn't say anything as she continued to wash Pyrrha's hair, and the huntress figured Vahlen didn't have a good answer for her question. Maybe Vahlen felt guilty that Pyrrha's involvement with XCOM had brought her to this sorry state? Well that was dumb, since she'd been paralyzed defending her school from that bitch. If she was given the chance to do it all over again, Pyrrha wouldn't hesitate. She'd just make sure not to get thrown from the top of a tower the second time around.

"Are you familiar with the Pope, Pyrrha?" Vahlen asked.

She'd heard Yang mention him once or twice, yeah. "You mean the one that's always shitting in the woods?"

Vahlen giggled, "It's good to see that you haven't completely lost your sense of humor. But yes, that one."

"Not really."

"He is the spiritual leader of one of the largest religious groups on Earth. Millions upon millions of people look to him for guidance, for hope, and for assurance that theirs is the right way to live life."

"And is it?"

"Who can say, really?" Vahlen answered, and Pyrrha could hear her pick up and gently rinse a wash cloth in a bucket of water as she prepared for the lengthy task of cleaning all the suds out of Pyrrha's considerable mass of hair, "In either case, the current Pope is a man named Francis. While some might argue that his predecessor had become more focused on the aesthetics of his station than the teachings of his church, nobody can say the same of Francis."

Pyrrha said nothing, opting to just listen to what Vahlen wanted to say.

"He did his best to highlight the importance of humility and mercy to those that followed him. Rather than look down and pity the poor and the homeless, he spent his time washing their feet and giving them a sense of hope and pride. He would be vocal in his opposition to views that ran counter to his faith, but he would not turn someone away simply because of their beliefs. If they were truly trying to devote their lives to God, then who was he to judge them?" Vahlen paused for a moment to rinse out her washcloth in the bucket once more before continuing, "For me, personally, he reminded me the importance of stepping back from my life to determine what is really important and separate it from what I feel is important."

Satisfied with her patient's hair (for now, at least), Vahlen moved on to Pyrrha's limbs to both wash them and work them out to fight the effects of atrophy. Pyrrha couldn't feel anything that would let her know if the mild exercise was helping, but it was one of the things Vahlen never skipped. The Doctor didn't always give Pyrrha a full wash, but she worked out the arms and legs every day without fail.

"I'm no Pope, of course." Vahlen added with a slight laugh, "But you asked me why I don't delegate these duties to someone else. Would you believe me if I told you that it's the part of the day I look forward to the most?"

Wait… what?

"Do not mock me, Doctor." Pyrrha warned, "If this is a joke, it isn't funny."

Vahlen stopped massaging her patient's leg and looked up, and Pyrrha could see an expression of hurt on her face.

"I would never dream of mocking you, Pyrrha. I understand you're in a bad place right now, but I hope you know that." She resumed her ministrations and explained herself, "It is as you say, that I have a ship that needs fixing. An almost impossible task, given what Bradford needs from it. My colleagues managed to hold it together with duct tape and glue for long enough to make the journey to Patch, but to make it truly airworthy? So many problems needs to be solved. And everyone looks to me for the answers. I relish the challenge, and I would be lying if I said I'm not proud of my importance to this organization's survival."

Pyrrha watched as Vahlen worked her way down one leg and back up the other. It almost reminded her of watching Jaune do something similar, but for an entirely different reason. She idly wondered what he was doing with the rest of their team now while she waited for Vahlen to continue her story.

"But it is all too easy to get caught up in my work and spend every waking hour on the multitude of problems and projects that need addressing for this ship to become airworthy again. And while that may be important for XCOM, there is something else that is important for me. Francis reminded me of the importance of humility, and Weiss gave me the push I needed to learn the value of camaraderie. It is not 'beneath my station' to bathe and exercise you every day, as you seem to think. You, along with everyone else I have had the pleasure of working with at XCOM, are deserving of respect. It doesn't matter whether you might be out killing swathes of Grimm, working with the engineers to repair the ship, or laying here in the infirmary, you deserve to be treated with dignity. You are a remarkable woman, Pyrrha, and it hurts my soul to see you believe, little by little, that that is no longer the case.

"And besides," Vahlen added, and it did not escape Pyrrha's notice that the Doctor was spending a little extra time on her feet today, "Visiting you every day is my way of relieving the stress that comes with my job. Sure, some aspects of helping you are… unpleasant, but the rest of it -washing your hair, exercising your body, helping you eat- is both relaxing and humbling. It gives me the opportunity to spend a few hours in peace doing something that matters to me on a personal level. Because you are both an important part of XCOM and one of the people I consider a friend. You are one of the kindest souls I have ever met, and it is an honor to do what I can to help you."

"I… thank you, Doctor." Pyrrha answered meekly. What else could she even say after that?

"Moira."

"I'm sorry?"

Vahlen seemed to hesitate for a moment before repeating, "Moira. Call me… call me Moira. Calling me 'Doctor' doesn't seem quite right given how close our relationship has become. I would like you to call me by my first name. Weiss learned it after she started helping me with my social issues. I think you deserve the same courtesy."

"… Weiss never told us she knew your name." Pyrrha commented, and it slowly dawned on her the gravity of Vahlen's request, "And you can be sure that I won't tell anyone, either."

The two women fell into silence while Vahlen continued her work. After another half hour of cleaning and exercising, Vahlen let out a quiet sigh and straightened herself up.

"Well, I think that about covers the Hygiene. Why don't we get you dressed and have a late lunch together? Jaune brought back a lovely sun dress from his last venture into town and asked me to help you into it the next time I saw you."

Jaune didn't tell her about that when he stopped by a couple of hours ago. A smile crossed Pyrrha's lips as she was once again reminded of the goofy, genuinely sweet antics her partner would go through to make her happy. Pyrrha didn't know if she'd ever truly get used to her condition, but perhaps she owed it to her friends to try and be happier and find solace in the little things.

"That sounds like a grand idea, Moira."

Ruby slowly swept her scope across the landscape as she scouted the southern end of Patch with her friends. Nora had joked that they should give themselves a team name if it turned out they'd be working together like this a lot in the future, and Jaune suggested that RNJR would be fitting if they were to be assigned border security and assassination missions like this one. Ruby didn't know how Pyrrha (or her own team) would take the news that their friends had gone and made a new team without them, so she decided to laugh the idea off for now.

"There." She whispered as she finally sighted the Geist hiding in the forest. She didn't know what it meant, but MacAuley had been adamant that they call it an Ent as soon as they found out the monster almost exclusively possessed large trees whenever it decided to wander into town. Patch's militia never had any trouble beating back the Geist whenever it chose to attack, but having an Ent assault the town on a regular basis didn't do any favors for the town's morale. Patch had tried sending her father to deal with the monster on more than one occasion, but his fiery Aura made it difficult to get the drop on the Geist, who always seemed to make itself scarce the moment it caught on that was being hunted. With Ren present to suppress their Auras, however, it looked like Ruby was able to do what her father couldn't.

"Three thousand meters away, aligned with my rifle." Ruby reported, "Looks like it's in a turf war with a pack of Beowolves."

"Who's winning?" Jaune asked as the group got up and slowly approached the targets.

Ruby raised an eyebrow at Jaune's question, "One side is a group of the weakest Grimm known to mankind, and the other is a fifty-foot tree."

"It was just a question, yeesh."

The group pressed forward, staying close to Ren to maintain their element of surprise. The forest was fairly thick on this end of the island, but Ruby could still hear the battle raging ahead. The group halted about fifty meters away from the clearing and took a moment to wait and listen. The wolves were managing to hold their own, if only because the lumbering movements of the Ent were relatively easy to dodge. Those unlucky enough to get caught by a swipe, however, quickly found out just how much power was packed into the living tree.

With the Beowolves constantly circling the Ent in search of a vulnerability, there was no way for the huntsmen to position themselves into a flanking position before engaging. Once she'd seen enough, Ruby signaled for the team to quietly approach the clearing's edge. They stayed low behind a bush to keep out of sight, and Ruby waited for the Ent's attention to turn towards the other side of the clearing before delivering her instructions for an opening strike.

Nora. Earthshaker.

Nora gave Ruby an enthusiastic salute before shifting her hammer into a grenade launcher and looking over her shoulder at Ren. Her partner knew all-too-well what Nora was asking for, and jammed his pistols into her hips and discharged XCOM's electric capacitors.

The Grimm stopped fighting for a moment and glanced in the direction of the noise, only to be greeted a moment later with the sight of a huntress erupting from the tree line, a contrail of pink smoke flowing in her wake as her weapon unfolded into a hammer above her head and the small rocket at the top flared to life.

"Never gets old, does it?" Ruby asked as Nora reached the apex of her arc and the trio of teammates watched as both gravity and the elerium booster pulled the hammer maiden down into the pack of Beowolves.

Jaune shook his head as the forest vibrated from the force of Nora's impact. "Brings a tear to my eye every time."

"The hammer trick or the tripled strength?" Ren asked, "Because honestly… the strength scares me. I think she's starting to get addicted to the shocks."

Pained yelps pierced the air as Nora crushed one Beowolf after another in the wake of her blitz, and Ruby unfurled Crescent Rose. "I'll keep that in mind, Ren. For now, though, we should probably help your partner out."

Ruby erupted into the clearing with a bang while Jaune and Ren charged in behind her.

"Focus down the Ent!" Jaune called out, "Ren and I will keep the wolves off of you!"

The two girls locked eyes, shared a grin, and blasted their way into the sky. Ruby hooked her scythe onto one of the Ent's boughs as it turned to face the new threat and flipped herself onto its shoulder. She could see the solitary (and incredibly creepy) eye of the Geist gazing at her as it tried to figure out what exactly to do with the new pest. A pair of shots from Aureate Mercy helped the Grimm determine that Ruby was, in fact, not friendly. Before it could do anything to shake her off, a rocket-powered Nora smashed into its trunk from the other direction, causing the tree to stumble. A reedy groan thrummed from the depths of the mighty oak as the Grimm expressed its anger at getting blindsided. Ruby watched as the end of the branch she was standing on started to grow verdant, and mild surprise turned into not-so-mild concern when the stiff branch became flexible.

"Not good!" She squeaked, and she blasted herself away from the Grimm's reformed whip arm to reassess the situation.

The Ent lurched forward and lashed out with its new weapon, narrowly missing Ren and slicing a Beowolf in two. It ripped through the ground beneath Ren's feet, succeeding in both throwing him off-balance and flinging dirt and rocks at the other three huntsmen. Ruby noticed that the Beowolves had begun a tactical retreat now that the Ent had grown properly enraged.

"Well at least it's not running away." Ren commented as he rejoined his teammates. The ground vibrated as the Ent loosed another angry groan.

Ruby nodded in agreement, "Not yet, anyway. Be ready to give chase if it decides we aren't worth the effort."

"Oh, it's not going anywhere, let me tell you." Nora said, almost gleefully, "I'm breaking those legs, one way or another."

"Jaune? Feel like trying to distract the giant tentacle monster for Nora?" Ruby asked.

"Why do you have to phrase it like that…"

Silver light flowed across Jaune's armor as he activated his semblance and fired up his jump jets. The armored knight sailed through the air, and the Grimm locked its eye on the new threat. Like a cowboy trying to rope an escaping steer, the monster swung its whip around to build up speed before throwing it out to strike at the airborne huntsman. Jaune grunted in pain as the limb slapped him sideways with incredible force. While the blow sent Jaune careening over the forest canopy, JNPR's leader wasn't out of the game just yet. Two small stabilizer fins deployed from his flight pack, allowing him to pivot around, aim himself at the monster, and blast his way back into the fray. Just as the Ent was readying its whip to strike at his teammates, Jaune slammed his shield into the monster's back. He dug Crocea Mors into the ancient bark, and the sword ripped through wood as it slowed Jaune's descent back to the ground.

The silver shield rose up just in time to protect Jaune' face from the Ent's rigid tree branch. He skidded backwards as the Grimm turned its attention on the annoying pest that refused to stay down. Silver aura flared as the sylvan whip struck the knight, but Jaune held firm. His shield turned aside blow after crushing blow, and he lashed out with his sword whenever he saw an opportunity to fight back. Each nettling strike only served to anger the monster even further, and the blows began to rain down harder than before.

A bang and a crunch reminded the Ent that the other huntsmen weren't going to simply watch their friend get ground into a pulp. The monster fell to one knee as Nora's herculean blow shattered its leg into splinters while Ruby and Ren got to work cutting away at the bark and branches protecting the Ent's neck. The vine whipped around once more in a desperate attempt to protect the Grimm. Ren ducked under the writhing branch while Ruby let the flailing limb cut itself on her outstretched scythe.

"It's starting to panic." Ren observed.

"Good, because I'm getting tired of being its chew toy." Jaune groaned.

The tree crashed with another shattering crunch, and the flailing limbs and the pained screeching served to punctuate Ren's point. Ruby pinned the branched arm into the dirt while Ren set to work slicing the vine limb into sizable chunks.

Nora helped Jaune up and nodded at the quivering eye of the trapped Ent. "Go get your revenge, boss."

Jaune launched himself into the air, brandished his sword, and plunged it straight into the blood-red oculus as he fell back to the ground. The Grimm shrieked, the tree thrashed, and the forest fell silent.

While Lily reached into her bag to pull out another roll of wire and a handful of components, the sound of boots crunching fall leaves marked the approach of her guardian.

"Area's clear for now, and I've got the local area fairly mapped out." Lieutenant Kelly announced. Lily looked up to see the woman sling her shotgun over her shoulder and take a knee next to the contraption Lily was busy adjusting, "How's the science project going?"

"I think Dad asked MacAuley to purposely break a couple of components in the detectors before giving them to me." Lily muttered, slightly annoyed as she returned to her work.

"Keep you on your toes, I take it." Jane nodded and watched as the young woman tinkered with the electronic device, "Smart dad."

"Easy for you to say."

Kelly got up and walked over to a nearby tree stump so she could both keep an eye on Lily and their surroundings. Lily knew that they were close enough to Patch where the Grimm probably knew to steer clear, but it was still comforting to have a friendly shotgun on standby.

"Well, maybe your dad or Mac didn't have anything to do with it." Kelly suggested, "I'm pretty sure this tech came from the latest batch of goods we got through Central's contact in the slums of Vale. Black market isn't known for having their stuff in perfect working condition."

Fair point. Bradford had just come back a few days ago on XCOM's bullhead with Master Sergeant Belladonna, Tygan, and a few other huntsmen from his second check-in with Mr. Xiong. Not only did her familiarity with underground organizations make Blake the ideal candidate for dealing with a crime syndicate, Blake had a personal interest in the hardware coming through Junior's door. After a month and a half of working with only one arm, Lily couldn't blame her. Bradford had apparently promised Blake that although he was specifically looking for equipment to help with the ship repairs, anything that Tygan believed could help fix her arm would take top priority over everything else. Since Blake looked no different upon her return from the field trip, Lily guessed that the hunt continued for replacement parts.

Maybe Lily could look into that if she had some spare time.

After another couple of minutes spent rewiring a set of questionable power leads, Lily saw the indicator light wink to life on the detector's front panel.

"We're green." She announced, slipping the Lightning Dust crystal into the case and snapping it shut, "You're up, Lieutenant. Tell me where you think this should go to maximize coverage, and I'll get it rigged up."

The Lieutenant stood up on her tree stump and pointed towards the west. "Small cliff that-a-way acts like a natural funnel, and the trampled grass tells me that the Grimm agree. Probably best to keep the sensor low to catch the crawlers who would slip under a raised camera. I'd say your best bet would be… here."

Lily nodded, moved her gear over to where Jane had indicated, and started the careful process of mounting and concealing the sensor.

Apparently Lieutenant Kelly wanted to chat to make the time go by faster, "So how'd you become a tech head at your age? If you don't mind me asking. I heard about the miracle you pulled off with your little band of survivors during the attack."

"My dad. He made sure I shared his passion for engineering.' Lily explained, pulling some lockwire out of her bag, "Started off with build-it-yourself toys when I was little. He knew how to increase the challenge each year just enough to make sure I struggled without pushing me to the point where I lost interest. As I was introduced to certain key concepts in school, he started to add stuff like programming, electrical engineering, dynamics…"

Lily snipped the excess wire and looked over at Jane. "What about you? Did you always know you'd be going into the military?'

"More or less. I liked to rough house when I was a kid. Dolls were all fine and dandy, but there was nothing quite like beating the crap out of someone who thought it'd be funny to give you a wet willy. The little shits learned pretty quick to knock that off." The Lieutenant flashed a guilty smile at Lily, "Err… sorry about the language."

"Yeah, watch your fuckin' mouth." Lily quipped with a smirk.

That got a chuckle out of her bodyguard, "I knew there was a reason I liked you. But yeah, thought it would be cool to join the Naval Service. Spent a few years making a name for myself in the navy, got tapped to try out for the ARW. Who could say no to that?"

Lily didn't know exactly what the ARW was, but she'd seen Jane fight several times over the past month and knew she didn't pick up that kind of prowess and discipline from patrolling the high seas. "Got your ass kicked in the ARW?"

"Goddamn right I did. And I loved every minute of it." Kelly answered with pride.

With her work done on the sensor, Lily stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder, "Sometimes I wish I could fight like you guys. I've had friends in XCOM point out that they'd be in bad shape without logistical support and R&D, but it's kinda hard to see badasses like you kicking butt in the field and not feel like… like I could be doing more for the team, you know?"

Jane checked her scroll and started walking towards their next indicated sensor location. "Who's to say you can't do both? Combat Engineers are invaluable. Just ask Mac."

"You know my dad would never allow it." Lily answered with a half-hearted chuckle. She couldn't really blame her father, though. He'd almost lost her once, and Lily had no illusions about just how violent and deadly war could be.

"All it takes is a lucky shot, and you go down for your last dirt nap." The Lieutenant agreed, "You're fortunate that you have the skills that allow you to do amazing things without having to take a single step onto the battlefield. You have to truly believe that it's your calling if you want to commit to combat operations. Otherwise, you're just wasting your time and putting your squad at risk. But if you just know that the front lines are where you belong, then even your old man won't be able to hold you back for very long."

The two walked in silence for a while, and Lily chewed on Kelly's words.

"You could always hit up Durand for her thoughts." Kelly suggested, "Central always seems to have our schedules mismatched so I don't get to talk with her much, but I know that she was basically thrust into a combat role rather than having the luxury of choosing it. How's she doing, by the way?"

Lily shrugged. "Good, I think. Tai and Qrow take turns beating the crap out of her when she's not busy on an operation. I've heard them say that she's picking up the training a lot faster than they expected her to."

"If they'd seen her fight during the war, they'd know that she's anything but your average combatant."

The two women shared a laugh. In an effort to foster international cooperation and boost morale in the wake of Earth's most devastating war, XCOM released numerous clips from operative bodycams showcasing humanity's prowess against the alien threat. Annette, being a highly-decorated officer, a psionic, and (perhaps most importantly) the literal savior of humanity, was easily the poster child for Bradford's little PR campaign. Even though Lily had only recently gotten her first taste of watching Annette fight in the flesh, she had spent countless nights staying up late watching XCOM's premiere femme fatale. As the promotional vids progressed further and further into the war, Lily noticed that the aliens would always engage Durand first, as if she had become Ethereal Enemy Number One.

Not that she blamed them.

Even so, Lieutenant Kelly had a point. While the videos had only shown XCOM's highlight reel from the war, Lily had learned of the losses suffered by the organization within her first week aboard the Temple Ship. Beagle had taken her on a tour of the Anthill (to show her around 'his old stomping grounds'), and Lily noticed a wall full of pictures. Curious, she'd stopped the Captain and asked him what those people did to earn a place on the wall. Even from a passing glance, she'd recognized some of the faces from the videos, and wondered if the wall was a list of XCOM's most decorated soldiers. When the Captain solemnly explained to Lily what she was actually looking at, the younger Shen felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach as her brain processed the true cost of the war. All of those action heroes she'd spent hours upon hours watching -Claymore, Casino, Chilong- she had thought them to be nigh invincible, soldiers of a truly unbeatable caliber. But that wall had so many names.

Lily and Jane reached the next location not long after, and the Lieutenant got to work scouting out the area while Lily grabbed another detector from her pack. Maybe she didn't need to join the front lines to feel like she was doing something useful. Setting out little alarm gizmos certainly felt like busy work, but Lily looked back on all of the tech developed by her father and Vahlen that had prevented the Vytal Incident from becoming the Vytal Calamity: The Kingfisher suits, allowing XCOM to become masters of mobility; the motion sensors that gave the good guys eyes on Grimm movement; MacAuley's comm system that let Bradford mount a coordinated response; and, of course, the refinements to the Hyperwave Relay itself, allowing Van Doorn to deliver precision troop deployments to hot spots across the battlefield.

All of these things seemed like achievements way out of reach for someone like Lily, but her father told her on multiple occasions that everyone had to start somewhere. As she dug out the tools she'd need to fine-tune the detector in her hands, Lily decided that she'd ask her father this evening where he had started.

It'd been a while since the last time he sat her down for a good story, anyway.

"Rise and shine, Ozpin. I think you've had enough sleep, don't you?"

Ozpin sighed quietly as he sat up from his bed, rubbed his eyes, and reached for his glasses. He had woken up fifteen minutes ago, but he knew that Salem enjoyed the idea of being the one to wake him up on her terms. No point in shattering that illusion.

"As I am a gracious host that believes in hospitality for her guests, I will switch off my monitoring system for the next few minutes while you make yourself decent. I trust you'll be a good boy and won't even entertain the thought of funny business while I afford you this luxury."

Salem was lying, of course, but pretending that she trusted Ozpin was simply another part of the game they'd been playing over the years. Which was a shame, as he had no intention of trying to pull off some kind of elaborate escape. With all of the security Salem had in this place, and the immense power that she could draw upon in this poisoned land, any effort to leave would be almost suicidal.

Almost.

Still, Ozpin preferred a cordial Salem to an enraged one, so why poke the bear?

"Of course. I will be down in fifteen minutes to join you for breakfast."

"Ten minutes, Ozpin. I am hungry, and I don't like waiting."

Another power play. Ozpin would make sure he was down in twelve, and he would offer a polite apology while the two of them silently acknowledged that he wasn't completely at his captor's beck and call. "Ten minutes, then."

Ozpin went about his brief morning routine. He had been relieved to learn that Salem had the decency to provide him with a quality shower and washroom, though he never pushed her hospitality by spending too long under the warm water. He stepped out of his room exactly ten minutes and thirty-three seconds after their conversation had finished, and Ozpin then counted out the remaining minute and twenty-seven seconds that it took for him to reach the dining hall so that he opened the door precisely at the twelve-minute mark as he had planned.

"You are late." Salem said from across the room. She was already seated at the long table, her chin resting on one hand and an annoyed expression on her face.

"And you are as beautiful as ever." Ozpin answered with a smile. He took his place at the other end of the table and kept his eyes locked with Salem's as they waited for food to be served.

"You know that flattery means nothing to me, old man." Salem sneered.

And yet he could see the hint of a smile tugging on the edge of her lips. Ozpin closed his eyes and bowed his head apologetically, "My apologies, for both the comment and my tardiness. I wanted to make sure I looked my best for you."

Salem made a point of sighing dramatically, "I suppose that is an acceptable reason for leaving me to wait here for an extra two minutes. Shall we?"

Ozpin nodded and took his seat at the other end of the table, and several servants stepped into the dining hall with platters of food in their hands.

"You've become more adept at making your thralls life-like since the last time I've been here." Ozpin mused. He'd noticed them the last couple of times Salem invited him to dine with her, but he never took the time to really pay attention to the details until now. Indeed, the servants had eyes that appeared alert, and they didn't shuffle or shamble like their predecessors. He watched as they laid down their platters before Salem sent them scurrying back to their posts with a wave of her hand.

Salem was clearly pleased with her guest's observation. "Do you like them? I've spent a considerable amount of effort adapting that particular strain of Geist to improve their functionality. The cooks, of course, are the real deal. Wouldn't want to have inferior food because something in their little brains got lost in translation, now would we?"

"They are impressive." Ozpin acknowledged, "Though I'm sure you know that I still believe your efforts would be better spent-"

Salem cut him off with another sigh, "And here I thought our meal was off to a good start. Must you always ruin the mood, Oz?"

"I will never give up on you."

"You should have." Salem answered, her eyes slowly narrowing in clear disapproval of the direction Ozpin had taken their conversation, "A long time ago. And if you even so much as think of trying to pull that cute name-calling stunt again like you did in the catacombs, I will murder you on the spot."

"Even though this is likely the last cycle?"

"Especially because it's the last cycle." Salem spat, "I might even throw a party after I dance on your corpse."

Silence ensued. Ozpin watched as Salem made a show of casually eating her breakfast, as if to show that she wasn't bothered by their little tiff. As if he didn't matter to her. But he knew her well enough to recognize the signs: the almost-surgical manner in which she cut her meat and the laser-sharp focus of her eyes on the assortment of food set before her betrayed the relaxed body language Salem attempted to project. Ozpin, for his part, tried to enjoy the food set before him. The flavor was certainly top-notch, but the twisted feeling in his stomach made it difficult to appreciate the culinary talents of Salem's slaves.

"I wish things didn't have to be this way." Ozpin said halfway through the meal, his voice almost a whisper.

"But that's how they ended up, isn't it?" Salem answered, pausing to take another measured bite of her food, "You were the wizard, great and powerful, who could do no wrong in the eyes of the people. I was the deranged witch, useful so long as the ends justified the means."

"You were respected just as much as I-"

Ozpin ducked as a knife whizzed past his head and buried itself in the unfortunate servant standing behind his chair.

"No one came to my rescue during the cataclysm, Ozpin!" Salem yelled as her hapless victim fell to the floor, gurgling in his own blood, "I was trapped and alone in absolute darkness for months! Now why would that be, if I was respected? Why would that be, if the people loved me? Not a single fucking soul tried to find me!"

Salem paid no mind to her expiring slave as she continued to yell at Ozpin, "Only they came to my aid! They showed me the true path, the one that I follow even now! So you can keep your blind opinions to yourself, old man, because I don't need them!"

Against his better judgment, Ozpin decided to defend himself against the enraged Salem, "You know that's not what happened."

"LEAVE."

The fire in his host's eyes told Ozpin that it was, in fact, a good idea to follow her orders this time. He got up from the table with a sigh and straightened out his clothes.

"The only reason you're still alive is because I want you to bear witness to my victory, Oz." Salem said. She had slowly lowered herself back into her seat, though her eyes remained locked on Ozpin, "I want you to see that I am right and you are wrong. Nothing more, nothing less."

Ozpin hesitated at the door, trying to find the right thing to say before taking his leave. When nothing came to mind, he settled with, "I'll be in my room, I suppose."

While he put one foot in front of the other, Ozpin reflected on his… unique life, and his strained relationship with the woman who was now his captor. After all these years, all the time they spent playing this twisted game and being at each other's throats, the pain never got any easier. While some might say the biggest curse of immortality (near-immortality, Ozpin reminded himself) would be to live with the mistakes and failures of your life, those people had never had the misfortune of slowly watching those closest to them descend into the depths of madness and corruption.

Then again, it would be fair to call Salem's condition one of his greatest failures, wouldn't it?

Ozpin stepped through the door to his room, and just stood there for a solid minute before he realized his auto-pilot had turned off after carrying him to his destination.

"Shit…' He muttered, shaking his head, as if to rid himself of the cloud of memories and regrets looming over his mind. A few moments after Ozpin fell back into his bed, Salem's voice flooded his room through the intercom, "I suggest you keep the scroll I provided you close at hand tonight. The festivities are sure to be entertaining."

"Status report." Bradford asked as he stepped onto the cruiser's refurbished bridge. His engineering teams had been at this for a little over a month now, and the results were awe-inspiring. The ship certainly had lots of work left to be done, but she'd at least be airworthy again within the next couple of days. R&D would have time later to worry about non-critical aspects of the ship, like the weapon systems. For the moment, Bradford only cared about getting his wings.

Dr. Shen looked up from his workstation in the back of the room. A large interface projected itself onto the table's counter, providing the Chief Engineer with an interactive, top-to-bottom summary of anything and everything plugged into the ship's central system. Like Penny, for example.

That had been a fun surprise when Ryder and Penny decided it was safe to reveal the latter's status as a stowaway. Bradford had suspected something fishy was going on when he first interrogated the Odin pilot after meeting with Ironwood's delegation, but the Central Officer had to admit that Ryder had a strong poker face. In any case, morale among the huntsmen (Ruby in particular) skyrocketed when they realized that Penny was back, so Bradford couldn't really do much other than instruct the group to keep Penny's secret within XCOM circles to avoid the possibility of the intel finding its way back to Ironwood. Bradford would deal with that particular bridge when it came time to cross it. Several operatives floated a plan of giving Penny the codename 'EDI' to avoid giving away her identity, but the Central Officer dismissed the idea.

"Final structural repairs and modifications were finished while you were away." Shen answered, "The power core could still use some work, but what we have for now is stable. I suggest we make a trip to Amity sometime in the future to salvage more material that we can use to change that from 'stable' to 'optimal.'"

Bradford nodded and looked over Shen's system layout. "Stable is all I'm asking for, Ray. I'll see about getting you more Gravity Dust, though. How are the comms?"

"Comms are much closer to optimal." Shen said with a smile, "MacAuley's work in Patch has given us a strong signal foundation that we can use in the CCTS's absence. Qrow's efforts to make the system blend in with the town's architecture mean that it will remain undetected unless someone knows to go looking for it. The locals all believe that the proximity system was the only thing our outreach program was working on, so they don't have to worry about trying to keep a secret, either."

A loud, static screech filled the room, and Bradford instinctively shoved Dr. Shen down to keep him out of harm's way while he tried to figure out what was going on. The noise was extremely disorienting, especially since the Central Officer couldn't figure out what direction it came from. Seconds later, his earpiece erupted with panicked chatter.

"What the fuck was that?!"

"Power systems are normal. I swear that shit wasn't us."

"Townsfolk are freaking out. We might have a Grimm situation on our hands."

"Fuuuuuucking hell, we did not need that B-list horror jump scare down here in the machine shop. Gonna need a medic or two to help with the injuries."

"Are you alright, Doctor?" Bradford asked as he pulled Shen back to his feet.

The elderly engineer nodded and scanned his system layout for any changes. Something caught his eye, and he keyed his mic. "Samuelson, I'm seeing a large energy surge saturating the HF band on our receivers. Please acknowledge and verify."

"Acknowledged, Doctor. Our equipment is functioning properly, and it just lit up like a Christmas tree over here. I'm still working to parse the information and figure out where it came from."

Samuelson didn't need to find out the source of the transmission. Within moments, every screen on the bridge flashed on and displayed the face of a black-haired, sultry-eyed woman.

"People of Remnant. I stand before you on the blood and ashes of countless brave individuals who worked in the face of immense danger to regain what was lost and bring you the gift of the CCTS once more. Many fell in the struggle to repair the tower at Beacon, but as you can see, their work was not in vain. It is my duty to be the first to invite you all to honor their ultimate sacrifice, and to introduce myself to you as the world's Fall Maiden, Cinder."

"That's not the Fall Maiden." Bradford said, his eyes glued to the screen.

"How do you know?"

"Because I saw Amber with my own two eyes." The Central Officer answered, "And because I've been briefed on the tower fight that took Nikos out of commission."

"The maidens are real, I can assure you. I didn't believe in the tale myself until recently, when a close friend of mine tragically lost her life during the Vytal Catastrophe, and her power was transferred to the last person she thought of as she took her final breath… me."

Bradford gritted his teeth, and he could feel himself shaking as he watched this impostor speak her lies to the world. "Her power was stolen more like. What kind of game is she playing at?"

"Geopolitics, I would assume." Shen commented.

"It is with a heavy heart that I take up the mantle of my dear friend and work to bring about a better future for the people of Remnant, but I am determined to do her memory justice and fight for the dream of safety and happiness that we all deserve. Repairing the CCTS is my first act as the new Fall Maiden, and I promise you that it will not be my last.

"But nobody can change the world alone. My accomplishment tonight would not have been possible without the bravery of those who share my vision, who are inspired by my will for positive change. These are the true heroes that Remnant deserve, and I am more than happy to be a symbol, a conduit of their drive to push back against the darkness and claim this world for the people."

The shaking, Bradford realized, was not actually coming from the adrenaline flooding his body. As the woman's speech continued, the bridge itself started to vibrate. Shen's tools quietly clattered on the table, and the two men looked at each other with confusion and concern. Could this be sabotage?

Bradford's commlink lit up, and he could barely hear Vahlen's voice over the screams of 'YOU BITCH. YOU FUCKING LYING BITCH' in the background. "All ship personnel: be advised that Sergeant Nikos is the source of the tremors you might be experiencing. I am working to sedate her, but this broadcast has put her in a state of… considerable distress."

Cinder continued, "For all the people; it is not just men who are willing to follow my path, but women and faunus of all fur and stripes. They all shouldered the burdens of our work equally in the time since the fall of Beacon, and while I am fully aware of the… societal issues that exist between the people of our world, I believe that everyone deserves the opportunity to join a movement as powerful, as noble as the one I envision. Whether you come from the aristocracy of Atlas or you found a sense of camaraderie with the White Fang, any who wish to set aside their differences and leave their past behind to cooperate for a better tomorrow will find a seat waiting for them at the Table of Brotherhood."

"Geopolitics it is." Bradford agreed. And he had to acknowledge the ingenuity of her opening play. Finding a way to restore the CCTS? The people of Remnant had spent the last month and a half completely cut off from the outside world, and now they get to thank this woman for bringing back the flow of information? Even if she takes a political hit for accepting faunus among her allies, the miracle of getting Vale's tower back on line more than makes up for it. And Bradford was certain that the faunus themselves would no doubt be lining up to fight alongside a savior that accepts them with open arms.

If this woman had an agenda (and Bradford believed wholeheartedly that she did), Remnant was in serious trouble.

"We are on the cusp of a new era, the ADVENT of a tomorrow that none of us thought possible. And I desire nothing more than to share it with all of you. Even now, my envoys and agents of change have been hard at work across the globe, unseen, unheard, and unappreciated while the CCTS left us all in darkness. And yet, the promise of a safer life is the only thanks my people truly need. And now that the Kingdoms are once again able to coordinate and cooperate with one another, it is my hope that their efforts will be bolstered by any and all inspired to share in our vision."

The tremors subsided, so Bradford could only assume Vahlen managed to calm Pyrrha down.

"Agents of change?" Shen mused, "That doesn't sound ominous at all."

"And yet she makes it sound like a good thing." Bradford said, "Sounds like our own covert operatives are going to have their work cut out for them.

"There are those, however, who do not share in my dream for a brighter future. Sinister forces who will resist progress by any means necessary to keep themselves propped up in their undeserving seats of power. The Order of the Huntsman, whether knowingly or not, are mere puppets to this dark cabal as it uses the threat of the Grimm to keep the world in fear. They claim that they and they alone can keep you safe, and that you must put your security in their hands if you wish to live. And while they extend one hand so that you may feel the illusion of comfort under their 'protection,' they carry a dagger in the other, and won't hesitate to plunge it into your back the moment they fear you will turn on them. They forced the maidens to hide away from the world, to shirk their responsibilities to the people and wasting their potential as forces of good."

Bradford groaned once the pieces all came together, "She's trying to destabilize the only true security Remnant has against the Grimm so that she can slide right into that power vacuum."

"Does she have the numbers to pull it off?" Shen asked, "There is a lot of kingdom border that needs protecting."

"If she didn't before, she probably will soon."

"But that's not all. The Vytal Catastrophe is just the latest in a line of horrific incidents that can be traced back to these monsters. Dear, sweet Ozpin the Wise, who claimed to want nothing more than to teach young, impressionable students the way of the Huntsman in order to keep the people 'safe,' has a far more nefarious agenda than anyone could have known."

"I don't like where this is going…"

Cinder's face faded to black, and the video screen was replaced by a new cinematic: lines and lines of scrolling code. Bradford's feeling grew worse when he heard Vahlen on the comms again.

"Oh no. I think I know what she's doing. Remember when I told you about that repository of files I found on Amity?"

… And how there was one named XCOM.

Fuck.

Sure enough, the scrolling slowed down and finally stopped, highlighting a single, four-letter program.

"There is a new, paramilitary group that calls itself XCOM. A rebranding of a branch of the Valean military that nobody knew about except, apparently, for Ozpin. They claim to come in peace, they claim to want to help those in need, and they claim to want a brighter future for Remnant, just as I do. But I ask you: in what world is the sabotage of the Amity Colosseum, the physical embodiment of inter-kingdom cooperation and an eighty-year peace… in what world could that be considered a 'brighter future?' "

"Boss? This is Beags. The, uh… the locals are giving us some funny looks. We've got some explaining to do when this shit's over."

"Because of course." Bradford sighed.

"I will leave it to you, the people of Remnant, to decide what Ozpin and XCOM could possibly have to gain by committing such a heinous act. But I will tell you right here, right now: I will not take this abuse lying down, and neither should you. There will always be struggle and sacrifice in the fight for good, and XCOM is just one more roadblock on that brighter dawn. I will fight against their corruption, with my very life if need be, but remember: I cannot do it alone.

"And so I beg my fellow maidens, my sisters… join me in strengthening the unity and resolution of my cause - of our cause. We can work hand-in-hand to defeat the Grimm, to defeat XCOM, and give the people of Remnant the legacy they deserve. And to all of you, listening to my plea: everyone has the power to bring about change, to fight for the future you believe in. Those who choose to use that power here today will be forever remembered as the visionaries of our revolution. Your children, and your children's children, will look up to you with pride and admiration, knowing that you made the noble choice of fighting for what you believed in. I want nothing more than to stand at your side as you fight for that brighter tomorrow."

The sound turned off, the screens went black, and Bradford stood in silence with Shen as they took a moment to process what had just happened.

Shen spoke first. "Sounds like we're in for a different kind of war."

"Yeah." Bradford agreed, "And it's not going to be pretty."

A/N: If you thought that I'd denied Cinder her Vytal-disaster-gloating-speech just for funsies, you clearly don't understand the addiction I have to dramatic speeches.

One thing that came up recently is the point that XCOM: RWBY Within's Blake is still technically an orphan, on account of her memory of when she almost died at the hands of some bullies in Vale. At the same time, XCOM: Remnant Unknown's Blake definitely has parents, as she mentions her father to Adam just before he dies. Because Papadonna is easily one of my favorite new additions to the cast, I'm going to go ahead and retcon RWBY Within to make Blake not an orphan.

In slightly different news, I've been talking with a reader over the last week, and the suggestion of starting a Discord channel came up. My first reaction was, "I have no idea if this is a good idea or a horrible one." My second reaction was, "Fuck it, why not." I updated my profile bio with a link to the channel a few minutes before I posted this. In the past, I've noticed that profile updates take a while to get published, so you might not see the link before you've read this far down. It'll show up eventually, and I'll do my best to check the channel regularly and chat with anyone who takes the time to swing by and say hi.