A/N: Oh hey, I got this chapter finished on time. Neat. It hasn't had a chance to go through a proper editorial pass, though, so please feel free to point out any errors that you may find. I'll work on getting them fixed when I get the chance.

The situation, Bradford determined, looked fair.

Comms were back online (presumably thanks to XCOM's Chief Engineer, as Bradford had heard nothing from Blake and Yang's ops team), Fonseca reported steady progress in moving his survivors towards the city to join with the larger group of operatives and huntsmen stationed at the Amity evac zone, Lily was alive and well, and Penny's team of Skysnipers was in position to begin shelling the dragon the next time it flew too close to XCOM's part of the city. Bradford was certain that the flying monstrosity wouldn't be going down quietly, but the sooner they could stop the constant drip of fresh Grimm reinforcements, the easier it would be for his operatives to hold the line and keep the Safe Zone safe against the howling hordes.

"MAC's are live, heat sinks are set, and the target is coming into range!" Penny reported.

"Jaegers, you are clear to engage on the Odin's mark." Bradford ordered. Even as he gave the command, a slight feeling of unease started to creep up the Central Officer's spine. So far, the dragon hadn't done anything to directly threaten any of the factions engaged in tonight's battle. That would likely change once the MEC's started taking shots at it. XCOM had faced other powerful Grimm over the past few months, and even new dangers tonight, but how did any of that compare to the creature presently marauding the skies above Vale? XCOM's first encounter with the Grimm had led RWBY and JNPR to observe that the Remnant variants of the creatures were weaker than their Terran counterparts, but the reports he received regarding the trio of Beringel that rampaged through the fairgrounds told Bradford that not all Remnant Grimm could be torn apart like tissue paper.

"COORDINATING FIRING SOLUTIONS." Gidjit called out, "HOLD."

As the dragon flew closer, Bradford reminded himself that it was a threat that he simply couldn't afford to ignore. Even if it wasn't engaging in the fight, its mere presence struck fear in Vale's citizens and guests, thereby drawing more Grimm into the fray. With everything else seemingly under control, there was no better time than now to start tackling the new airborne problem. With any luck, the other airborne problem had already been taken care of. The rogue cruiser had not changed its flight pattern at all since Bradford had dispatched the Icarus strike team, and the last report he heard from the squad leader was when the fliers had landed after a careful approach and a successful attempt to sabotage the main cannon battery.

"MARK."

The air shuddered and the hairs on Bradford's neck stood on end as the three Jaegers fired their modified railguns. The first shot grazed the monster's wing, the second scored its belly, and the third crashed into its shoulder. The dragon stumbled through the air, surprised that any would dare fight it, before righting itself and loosing a scream that rattled Bradford's ears and cracked glass in the storefronts throughout the Safe Zone. Then it set its sights on the source of its pain.

"Negative damage." One of the MECs reported as the dragon flew through the fusilade unfazed, "Venting required to cycle down MACs. Time: thirty seconds."

"Leave it to us to buy you that time." Forklift answered, "Just make sure your next shots hit it where it hurts. Gidjit? Let's roll."

"DEPLOYING COMBAT SUITE."

Well, that could have gone better. Bradford had confidence that the Odin's crew would be able to hold its own against the dragon, but how much damage would the monster be able to do first?

No sense in taking chances. "All available teams," Bradford keyed, "We have an inbound bogey, and it's coming in hot. Get all civilians to cover ASAP and prepare to assist the Odin in bringing this bastard down. Rocketeers prep Shredders and Gunners prep Flak. We're in for a bumpy ride."

"Something's got the dragon riled up." Gamma-Four reported.

Gamma-Actual, Lieutenant Dionicio 'Nicho' Cortez raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean 'something?' Who else has cajones big enough to piss off a dragon but the Central Officer?"

Cortez held his position by the main door with half of the Icarus landing party, weapons locked and ready to fire the moment someone or something decided to step out. Bradford's decision to attach bioelectric operatives to the cruiser team paid off almost as soon as they started preparations for a breach. While the range of the bioelectric field was somewhat limited, it extended far enough for Nicho's operatives to detect and report a multitude of dead bodies. Either this ship had a very inexperienced crew, or whoever killed everyone and took out the other two cruisers had training on par (or better) with XCOM's top commandos. In light of the fact that the rogue cruiser hadn't made any efforts to join the fray, Nicho decided that Gamma squad had the luxury of time to make sure they had all the information they could get before breaking down the door and announcing their presence to the ship's occupants.

Gamma had three bioelectric troopers. Cortez opted to keep one, 'Socks,' with the main team while the other two were dispatched to a pair of scouting teams in an effort to determine if they could locate the live (and likely hostile) individuals onboard the ship.

"Seven," Nicho checked over comms (thank Dios they'd been restored), "Any luck?"

"More bodies on the other side of the deck, but nothing living yet."

"No luck on the top floor, either, sir." Nine reported, "Either they know we're looking and are trying to stay hidden, or they abandoned ship."

Not likely, but that would explain why the ship wasn't doing anything. Either way, recon had gone on long enough. "Scout teams, the door party is moving in. Set charges and be ready to deploy into flanking positions if we find anything. Bio ops, stay vigilant."

"Understood, sir. Good luck, Nicho."

"Charges set, sir." Three said.

Go time. "Team, stand clear and be ready for contacts."

The doors blew inward, and Nicho waited a few moments before sending in his chameleon scout to get eyes inside. Gamma-Two wrapped the night's shadows around herself and slipped into the main entry.

"So far so good." Four muttered, "Let's hope it stays that way."

"Clear. Move up."

The rest of the main squad quietly filed into the entry room and took up defensive positions in case their hosts were planning an ambush.

"Not getting any tingly feelings, boss." Socks reported, "Aside from… y'know… the bodies."

The many, many bodies. Nicho had no doubt that the ship takeover was the work of an expert. Dead crewmen were strewn about everywhere, all with looks of fear or anguish on their faces. Blood-stained punctures in their otherwise immaculate uniforms indicated that their murders were more surgical than savage. Who did this?

Nicho heard a bang and saw a salvo of glowing projectiles sail across the air and crash explosively into Gamma's defensive position. Amid the yells of surprise from his operatives, Dionicio also heard the sound of metal rolling on metal accompanied by a quiet beeping.

"Take cover!"

The grenades exploded, and the squad quickly discovered that they were elemental when electrical energy spiderwebbed across the floor to shock the entrenched operatives.

"Fucking hell!"

"Contacts! Contacts!"

The operatives began to blindly return fire in the direction of the surprise assault. Gauss rounds chattered and tore holes in the decking and ship equipment as XCOM fought back against the unseen commandos. A gurgling yell to his right caused Nicho to look up and see Gamma-Four crumple at the feet of a diminutive swordswoman.

"Cloakers!" Nicho shouted, swinging his rifle around to train it on the new contact, but she vanished in an array of shattering glass. Another salvo of explosive rounds rocked his squad's position, and the Lieutenant fought the urge to panic.

"Socks! I need eyes on the cloaker!" He keyed his mic, "Scout teams, engage!"

Explosions detonated overhead to reveal the two ambush teams, and small explosives hissed and spewed pink mist as the soldiers dropped a couple of Smoke grenades into the room. That may have helped with the artillery barrage, but it didn't solve the issue of the cloaked assassin.

"Diesel is down! Little fucker got Diesel!"

"We need to pull back, sir! No way we can deal with this shit!"

Nicho was tempted to agree, but he also wasn't one to retreat without a parting shot. If these commandos were so intent on keeping their ship, Gamma-Actual had no qualms about leaving them with a crashed wreckage.

"Scorched earth." He ordered, "I want this flight deck leveled."

He pulled a pair of plasma grenades off of his belt, primed them, and hurled the explosives across the room towards where he guessed the enemy rocketeer had hunkered down. The other operatives followed suit, and the room echoed with the sounds of primed grenades clattering and beeping before they detonated in a hellstorm of plasmic fury. The ship started to list almost immediately.

"Pull back."

Under the cover of a gaussian fusillade, the members of Gamma squad fell back one-by-one. The scout teams had dropped through their makeshift doorways immediately following the neon fireworks, and the bio ops spread themselves out among the ranks of their comrades in an effort to avoid any more surprise attacks. The squad retreated through the main door that marked the main team's original breach attempt and dug in on the off-chance that the commandos had chosen to pursue them. With his squad on overwatch, Nicho allowed himself a moment to breathe and take stock of the situation.

Three deaths and two wounded, while far more than he would have liked, didn't necessarily warrant scrapping the mission. The sabotage was certainly in motion, but Nicho didn't want to run the risk of giving the commandos free reign of the ship and possibly finding a way to either salvage it or direct it onto a crash-course with Vale's dense city center. They needed to stay, but they also needed to avoid getting wiped out by… whatever that deadly cloaker was.

Well maybe he needed to fight fire with fire.

"Two." He said in a voice barely above a whisper, "Give me eyes in that room. The rest of us will re-deploy under the hull and work our way towards the other side of the ship. If the enemy shows itself, go loud and the cavalry will come in hot on their asses."

The grenade volley had done more than enough to give the squad's chameleon cloaker ample cover to slip in undetected. Hazy smoke hung low on the deck while the main lighting flickered from damaged power lines worked with small fires to create an ensemble of dancing shadows that would disorient anyone on the lookout for the XCOM scout. Two nodded without a word and she slipped forward into the shadows once more.

The rest of Gamma dropped off the side of the ship without a word. Now that he knew they were here, Nicho was determined to catch these bastards. And if they failed? Well, at least the commandos wouldn't get to keep the ship.

This was bad. The three XCOM operatives protecting Shen opened fire on the woman, and Pyrrha watched as the intruder spun out of the way with acrobatic grace while pulling a weapon off her back and putting a pair of arrows into the two Albatross pilots. The first died almost as soon as the arrow pierced his throat, while the one strapped to Shen cried out in pain with the jet-black arrow jammed in his flank.

"Annette!" Jaune shouted while he formed a shield wall with Pyrrha to protect Shen. The Major didn't need to be told twice before she shot the glass behind her and threw the moaning pilot (and Dr. Shen) through the opening and followed suit. Rather than shoot down the escapees, the woman in red simply watched as the trio dropped out of sight before turning her attention back to the two remaining fighters.

"Your friend is fortunate," She said with a smirk as she sauntered back towards the middle of the room. Pyrrha could feel the woman's eyes sizing her up as she continued to talk, "I was told to spare the old man. The pilots had no such protection. And sadly, neither do you."

"Who are you?" Pyrrha asked. She watched the woman like a hawk, her muscles twitching and ready to spring into action at a moment's notice if and when the intruder made a first move, "Why are you slaughtering so many innocents?"

The woman casually split her bow into a pair of blades, and Pyrrha noted the weight (or lack thereof) as her opponent easily twirled her weapons., "You needn't concern yourself with who I am. And since you're not long for this world, you needn't concern yourself with my reasons, either."

As Pyrrha leaned back into her battle-ready stance, weapons ready and eyes locked with her armed adversary, a distant memory clicked and gave the huntress pause. The seething hatred rippling just beneath the femme fatale mask, this tower that served as their battleground…

Oh. Oh no.

The moment Pyrrha realized that this fight marked the beginning of the nightmare that played night after night during her time in Greece, her confidence gave way to fear. Now that she could finally see her murderer's face, the thought of what was to come rattled Pyrrha even more. Behind the sexy eyes and sultry smile, Pyrrha saw cruelty and a hunger for power. The intruder adopted a relaxed stance as she watched Pyrrha slowly panic, but even her casual pose belied a calculating readiness that Pyrrha recognized from years on the tournament circuit. This woman was going to kill her, but only after soundly defeating her in combat and making her feel like a small, helpless child in the face of such indomitable power. This was the end of Pyrrha's journey. This was her Destiny.

Tempered steel rattled to Pyrrha's left, and she looked in startled surprise as Jaune lowered himself to match his partner. "Lady, we've fought against murder bugs, mechanical abominations, and literal eldritch horrors. If you think we're going to let you walk all over us just because you know a few magic tricks and you talk a good game, you're sorely mistaken."

The bravado, Pyrrha knew, was intended to help remind her that she wasn't alone. A couple of cocky words weren't going to do much against a cold killer, but they certainly helped Pyrrha remember the words that Jaune had said to her on that moonlit beach: they would always fight together so that they may never die alone.

The woman's lips curled into a thin, cruel smile, "I look forward to crushing your arrogance and turning it to terror seconds before I end you. Though I think I'll kill the lovely lady first just so you can feel abject despair one last time before you die."

The dragon roared in the distance, and the woman grinned.

"Time's up." Like liquid lightning, the woman leapt towards Ozpin's table. She crashed into Jaune's shield to push him off-balance before reversing her momentum and throwing herself at his partner.

Pyrrha deflected the strike and pivoted to counterattack with her own. The intruder blocked the first thrust, but failed to anticipate Pyrrha deftly formshifting her spear into a sword for a followup. The two women traded blows with cool, calculated precision for a few seconds before the assailant grew tired of playing fair. A gout of flame erupted from her hand and Pyrrha yelped in surprise as it licked her bare skin and forced her to step back. She recovered in time to raise her shield, but too late to properly deflect the attack. The force of the strike threw Pyrrha across the room, and she watched in surprise as the woman used the flame to propel her forward in her unyielding effort to put an end to Pyrrha's life.

Thrusters fired off to the left, and silver crashed into crimson as Jaune tackled the woman into one of the room's columns.

"You're not the only one who can fly around here!" He shouted. Pyrrha's skin crawled as the woman flashed her partner with an evil smile and unleashed a cascade of fire at Jaune. Even as her partner tried deflecting the blow with his shield, Pyrrha flung out her Aura to magnetically grip Jaune's armor and pull him away from the flame. The moment she let go of his armor, Jaune jet-boosted himself back at the woman. The brief respite allowed the intruder to regain her bearings and she, predictably, dodged out of Jaune's way. Akouo crashed into her shoulder, and the intruder only had a fraction of a second to deflect Milo before Pyrrha delivered a shoulder check that morphed into a grappling throw.

The woman tumbled once, twice along the floor before rolling into a combat stance and slamming her swords together. A trio of burning arrows flew across the room, but Jaune had already stepped in front of his weaponless partner, and two of the arrows bounced harmlessly off of Crocea Mors while the third skimmed his thigh. Jaune hissed in pain as Pyrrha's weapons flew back into her hands.

"Crying so soon?" The woman teased.

"I've suffered worse." Jaune answered, "Pyrrha?"

The words 'Arc Thrower' always followed whenever he used her name with that tone, so Pyrrha flung her partner like a battering ram. To Pyrrha's immense satisfaction, a look of surprise crossed the woman's face when she realized that one partner had willingly allowed himself to be weaponized by the other. She shot more fire at her attacker, but Jaune blew through it like a cloud of Thin Man acid. He collided with the woman for a second time, though she managed to recover a fraction of a second faster than he did and slashed one of her blades across his leg. Jaune yelped and tripped mid-recovery, sending his weapons clattering across the floor as he continued to roll with his momentum.

Before the woman even had time to enjoy her small victory, a familiar voice spoke into the room.

'People of Remnant, I am Pyrrha Nikos, and I stand before you with an important message.'

The woman's smile curled into a frown once she realized what the sudden interruption meant.

"Well that's unfortunate."

"Have you come to beg me to take you back, my love?"

Blake glowered at Adam as she stalked down the hallway towards her old mentor. Rather than answer, Blake changed her sword into a bladed pistol.

"Tsk, what a shame," The man said with a sigh, "I was so hoping to avoid using force to make you submit to me." He pulled his sword out of its sheath and twirled the blade idly, "But I suppose you always had that cat-like obstinan-"

Blake didn't let Adam finish his unbearably stupid taunt before throwing her bladed gun down the hall and forcing him to defend against the opening strike. He deflected the spinning shuriken, and the weapon embedded itself in a closed door a few yard behind its intended target, allowing Blake to pull herself forward and finish closing the gap to her mentor. She twisted away from his counterswing and landed hard before yanking her gun from its door to send it flying back towards Adam. He smacked it away a second time, and Blake used his occupied attention to leap forward under the cover of a shadow clone to deliver a melee strike.

She growled in frustration as Adam's knee forced her to evade instead of deliver her cutting blow.

"Have you forgotten?" Adam asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice, "I know you, darling. Your clones cannot deceive me."

Blake didn't bother to respond to his taunting and instead continued her assault as she looked for a way to outmaneuver this monster she once knew. Time and again, she threw herself and her gun at him with lightning speed, and each time he deflected and countered her hit-and-run strikes. Blake knew better than to try and pelt him with Dust rounds from her weapon. The building likely wouldn't survive the fallout of his energized counterattack. In any case, Blake's speed wasn't helping her get even a single hit in against Adam. As cliche and annoying as his taunting was, Adam was right: she'd fought and trained with him for too long to use her strongest tactics against him.

But she had learned a new way to fight while on Earth, hadn't she? When Blake's injury meant she no longer had her clones and shadows to hide behind, Yang helped her partner learn a different way to fight. A more direct way to fight.

And that was something Adam had never seen.

Blake paused for a moment to ready her weapons and recall the countless hours of training Yang had gladly given her. Adam mistook the lull in combat for hesitancy, and the smug grin returned to his face. "Had enough? Tired of pointlessly struggling and resisting your fate?"

If her fate was to be a slavish lapdog for a twisted and evil caricature of her oldest friend, then Blake would challenge her fate until the day she died. Sword and sheath gripped tightly in her hands, Blake threw herself at Adam and watched as his grin grew wider. He swung his crimson sword as he had so many times before, but Blake didn't step out of the way this time. She held up both of her weapons and braced herself to block the swipe. Even though she knew that Adam hadn't put his full force behind the strike (as he expected her to blink away), the shock that traveled through her metallic limbs still hurt like hell as her shoulders fought to resist. The surprise maneuver bought Blake a split second of surprise, and she used the advantage to kick off and drive her shoulder into Adam's gut with all the strength her legs could muster while switching to a reverse grip on her sheath and slamming the pommel into her foe's chin..

Adam stumbled back in surprise, his smirk replaced with a sneer as he rubbed his face where Blake had struck him.

"Bitch…" He muttered, "So you wanna play rough, then? Fine by m-"

Again, Blake wasn't in the mood to let this madman drawl on like the comic book villain he clearly thought he was. She dashed forward with sword and sheath to beat the hell out of Adam. She did her best to divert rather than block his next attack, but she still grunted in pain from the energy that she simply could not redirect. Still, she knew her Aura could handle a few of these hits, and so Blake stayed on-course and crashed into Adam once again. She swung her sheath, which he caught, before form-shifting her blade into a pistol and pressing the muzzle directly against Adam's flank. The gun fired three times, and Adam roared in pain and anger when he realized that Blake's direct assault had allowed her to sneak in a surprise attack despite his bragging to the contrary.

With the tables seemingly turned, Blake continued to apply pressure. While their deadly dance felt reminiscent of her engagements with Berserkers on Earth, the need to stay close forced her to eat several more hits from Adam. Her Aura continued to hold, though Blake knew she couldn't maintain this trade of blows for very long. Adam struggled to adapt to Blake's tactic of using her agility to slip past his defenses rather than dodge to safety, and his swings grew more wild and frustrated as she continued to pivot and land blows on him in spite of his efforts to backstep and put some distance between them. The close quarters of the hallway actually worked to Blake's advantage, as it only provided Adam with one direction of escape: away from Yang.

"Screw this." He hissed before sweeping his blade in a wide arc that shattered walls and finally succeeded in pushing Blake back, "Your equipment is in ruins and your precious girlfriend is dead. You can wallow in your misery and suffering for all I care."

Adam threw another Aura-infused strike at Blake to force her into a defensive block before he dashed down the hallway and out the window.

"Oh no you fucking don't." Blake whispered before charging down the hallway after Adam. She had to trust that Samuelson could properly triage her partner. Blake promised herself that she would give Yang's assailant a proper ass-kicking, and nothing in the last few minutes had changed that plan.

Master Sergeant Jacqueline 'Voodoo' Alaine waited silently for the two little rats to come scurrying out of their hidey hole in a vain effort to save their sinking ship. Alloy Strike Rifle held at the ready, her eyes flicked between the few remaining consoles that managed to survive Gamma squad's grenade salvo. It didn't take too long for her patience to pay off, and an angry voice drifted over the sound of the crackling deck fires.

"Peachy, just… peachy. I finally get the toy I she promised me, and some uppity kids decide to blow a hole in it! Neo, are you certain you didn't see any signs of them on your sweep of the deck? What about outside? Alright, alright! Sheesh. Just don't want the party crashers to make things even worse while I try to pull a miracle over here. Let's see…"

Voodoo toggled her ear piece twice, and she heard an affirmative double-click a few short seconds later. Keeping her weapons out of sight (past experience revealed that they didn't blend in as well with her gene mod), Voodoo continued to watch as the two commandos came into view. First was a tall man with a sharp taste in fashion. Bowler hat, white jacket, black gloves, stylish cane, crisp pants and snappy shoes. It didn't surprise her that someone that detail-oriented had managed to wipe out the ship's security detail. Then again, the young woman sauntering next to him probably made that easier. Casually twirling an umbrella that Voodoo had watched her shove through Diesel's neck, the diminutive partner in crime lazily walked alongside the first commando as he set to work pulling up command prompts on one of the consoles.

While the man was frantically trying to save his ship, the miniature murderer seemed more interested in watching the smoke and flames on the deck and the Griffons as they flew by outside. Maybe she trusted that her partner would fix everything without her help? Voodoo figured she was more likely keeping a lookout for XCOM, which would have been a good idea if XCOM didn't have the same cloaking bullshit as Little Miss Mary Poppins. Well, the chameleon skin would fizzle after the opening shot, so Voodoo had to make it count. She didn't know what the man was capable of, but if XCOM had taught her one thing, it was that she preferred Thin Men and Mutons to Seekers any day of the week.

A good Psi Panic should do the trick. And hey… maybe these two would take to psionics about as poorly as Captain Rose did.

Psionic energy swirled around inside Voodoo's mind as she built up power for her ambush. She took aim at the relaxed woman and unleashed nightmarish hell upon her Id. The reaction was instantaneous: the girl dropped the umbrella and clutched her head, fell to her knees and screamed. The man, startled by the noise, looked over at his partner in shock.

"Neo!"

Voodoo clicked her earpiece twice, and the far deck wall blew open a few seconds later. The man growled, and Voodoo watched as he fired several rounds from his cane at the opening. The first couple rocked the aperture, presumably to shake loose any operatives that were hiding just out of sight, but then the commando got creative. He 'hooked' the third and fourth shots with the top of his can, whirled around, and threw the unstable energy in an arc at the breach. The weakened metal gave way completely to the blast, and a chorus of surprised yells confirmed that the man's plan paid off.

A high-powered gauss round drilled into the man's shoulder, and he stumbled from the attack. A second struck his thigh, and he yelped in pain and frustration. Voodoo rose from her hiding place and continued to fire rounds into her target. He deflected the next three with his cane and answered with an explosive salvo. Voodoo dodged the first two, but the third clipped her foot and yanked her ankle in a painful direction. She tried to spool up another psi attack, but an explosion shattered her concentration and caused Voodoo to see two tall, smug men slowly saunter towards her. She threw more gauss rounds at the commando, but he deflected them with ease before standing only feet away from her crumpled form.

"Not so tough now, are ya?" He drawled, "It's a shame, but I don't think she'll want me to be taking prisoners. After all, that stuffy General offered me the same kindness, and… well… look at where that got him."

A shot from his cane shattered her knee, and Voodoo failed to suppress a scream.

"Aww. That hurt? Shoulda thought of that before you shot me with your popgun."

The man fired again at point blank range, and Voodoo's arm turned into a pulpy, bloody mess as she cried out once more.

"Oh help! Help!" The commando intoned as he cupped hims hands to his mouth and called out towards the far end of the room, "The mean man is slowly killing me! Isn't there anyone who could stop him?"

He watched the hole and waited for a response, shrugged when none came, and settled for blasting Voodoo's good hand as she tried to reach for her rifle. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. But guts won't save you from a bullet between the eyes. Sorry."

He fired his cane one last time and grimaced at the blood that splattered onto his coat. "Because why wouldn't my evening get worse than it already is? Alright Neo, let's see what she actually did to you."

He returned to his partner's side and knelt down to examine her condition. The woman was on all fours with a pool of vomit spreading on the floor beneath her. Her limbs wouldn't stop shaking, and the random cries of pain and fear unsettled the man more than anything else.

"C'mon, Neo. It's alright. You know what? Forget about the stupid ship. Let's get out of here and find somewhere quiet to plan our next move. We did our job, so the boss can't be mad. Neo, snap out of it!"

A clink echoed off the metal to his left, and a brilliant flash caused stars to explode in the man's vision. He fell back into his partner and clutched his face with one hand while the other flailed around to regain balance. He heard a muted shot in the distance before he felt something smash into his chin and dig into his shirt. His free hand tried to grab hold of something stationary ss the commando felt himself get dragged towards the far end of the room, but the only thing it found was a decorative umbrella. The dragging picked up speed as the hook dug deeper into his jacket and shirt, and the man yelped as he was pulled off the deck and into the chilly night sky.

Nicho watched with a small sense of satisfaction when his grappling hook ripped free of the man's clothes and the murderer flew head-over-foot into the Grimm-infested darkness. Maybe if XCOM was lucky, an enterprising Griffon would find itself a free lunch and rid Remnant of a sadistic asshole. But his team had more pressing matters to worry about as the survivors jumped and hooked their way back onto the command deck.

"Three, find a way to get this thing stabilized, or to at least put it on a safe crash course. Five, you're on fire fighting duty. Six, I want you to taze the fuck out of our guest so that we don't have to worry about her bullshit."

"Shouldn't I just kill her, sir?"

"Negative. She's the only solid lead we have right now about this entire mess. We better let Bradford or Vahlen interrogate her."

Six discharged his Arc Thrower into the still-shaken woman, then discharged it again for good measure. "Hopefully she talks."

"Boss," Three called from the front, "We did a pretty serious number on the navigations controls after the first scuffle. No way am I stopping this thing from crashing."

"Can you at least steer it?"

"Barely."

Not much more he could ask for at this point. At least the ship was pointed in a fairly safe direction.

"Here it comes!"

"CANNONS READY."

"Rockets on my mark… mark."

Bradford watched as seven white contrails streaked towards the flying monster, supplemented by a withering salvo of Cyberdisc fire. The rockets detonated in explosive plumes while golden death bolts lanced the dragon, which screamed with pained rage. The Grimm crashed through one of the high-rises and a combination of shattered concrete ichorous sludge rained down upon the operatives below. Bradford watched a squad of Icarus jump troopers tumble from their perch atop the ruined building, though all but one managed to regain their bearings and ignite their boosters or launch their hooks before hitting the ground.

"Grimm contacts. Assaults moving to neutralize."

Small arms fire erupted on the streets as XCOM's ground support worked to contain the creatures spawned by the dragon while the MEC's cycled their weapons and the Odin continued to take shots at the primary target. Gidjit tracked the monster's flight with robotic precision and pelted it with molten ammunition while the Odin's primary cannons bombarded the creature with heavier firepower.

"Hoooo shit that's a lot of wolves. Strike teams, let the huntsmen take the lead. We'll serve as a last line of defense to protect the civilians. Medics, Snipers, and Gunners, support the frontliners if you see an opening."

"Central, how the fuck is that thing still flying?"

Bradford didn't have an answer to that. Strike Eight had said that the Grimm on Earth were noticeably tougher than their Remnant counterparts, so how were XCOM's biggest guns ineffective against the dragon when sustained fire from the Odin and Gidjit tore apart anything back home?

"MACs ready to fire again in ten seconds."

"Good. It's coming around for another pass. Take aim and get ready to fire on Penny's mark."

"Sir! The cruiser is moving!"

"It's also smoking… think the strike team is alright?"

Whether Nicho's crew or the original hijackers had caused the damage, at least the cruiser was being dealt with. Bradford noted that the cruiser seemed to be falling out of the sky, though it was headed towards the school and not the city.

"Ground teams are taking some serious heat, sir. The huntsmen are doing their best, but the dragon spawned a lot of Alphas which are making things difficult."

Shit. Bradford needed his heaviest firepower focusing on the dragon, but what was the point of taking that thing down if the horde completely overran the Safe Zone?

"Gidjit, could you work a little magic on the wolves while Forklift helps Penny with the dragon?"

"ACQUIRING TARGETS."

Once more, Bradford had the opportunity to revel in the luxury of having a Cyberdisc working with the good guys. Gidjit's twin cannons strafed the streets below with high-energy death and disrupted the Grimm reinforcements charging at the huntsmen already locked in melee. Gauss weapons discharged from XCOM's backline as operatives helped in the efforts to regain control of the kill zone. Not a moment too soon, either, what with the dragon about to drop more of its unholy progeny into the firefight.

"Skysnipers, please focus fire on the target's shoulder! I am applying a holomarker for your convenience!"

One the Odin's many gadgets whirred to life, and it painted Penny's target with a neon blue color.

"Gunners," Bradford called, "Get ready to flak the hell out of that thing after our Jaegers take their shots."

The dragon flew in low, and the Odin's marker painted Penny's target with neon-blue light. Only two of the three Jaegers got a shot off, as it quickly became clear that the dragon was aiming for the third on its entry into the city. Concrete, glass, and rebar shattered for a second time as the building splintered, but Penny's plan paid dividends. The MAC rounds drilled the monster's shoulder with a loud crunch and the monster roared with pain. It crashed into a second building and dug its claws into the exterior while it worked to regain its bearings.

"Hit it with everything you've got."

Tracer rounds lit up the night as the Gunners trained their weapons on the immobile monster and unleashed a magnetic hellstorm. The dragon loosed a glass-shattering scream and kicked off to take flight once more. Flak rounds exploded along its trajectory as it struggled to gain altitude, but 'struggling to gain altitude' wasn't 'dead,' and that bothered the Central Officer. Still, the next wave of Grimm had already begun to form, and so the rest of XCOM and the huntsmen didn't have time to wonder about the details of the flying bullet sponge. The Jaegers, however, were still tracking their prey.

"Target is gaining altitude." The third MEC reported, "Requesting permission to engage."

"Make it count, Maya." Bradford answered, "Penny, keep that shoulder painted."

"Yes, sir!"

The Jaeger boosted up to the roof of an intact building and took aim at the dragon.

"Battle computer locked… firing now."

The MAC erupted, and the ballistic projectile streaked towards the dragon at near-instantaneous speed. It scored the belly of the beast, eliciting another scream from the monster, and Bradford watched as it limped higher into the sky until it found a new perch: the smoking cruiser.

"Oh, that can't be good."

"ADAM, GET BACK HERE."

Blake dashed across the central courtyard, angrily lashing out at any Beowolves that dared interfere with her hunt. Her superior vision allowed Blake to see through the darkness and catch sight of her target up ahead. She fired several shots at his retreating back, and growled in annoyance as he held out his sword to catch her rounds. In response, he reached back with his shotgun and fired off a quick salvo to try and slow down his pursuer. There was no way in hell that Blake was going to allow that to happen.

Adam turned a corner, and Blake anchored her pistol into a wall so that she could whip around the corner and gain some ground on her quarry. Several more shots rang out, and Blake heard a muted clink as one of them grazed her leg. She rolled into a landing and continued to dash after Adam.

"Tired of trying to win me back?" Blake taunted.

To her complete lack of a surprise, he shouted, "You're fucking crazy!"

"And you're not?!"

She fired her pistol once more, this time aiming for his feet so he couldn't easily absorb the shots. Concrete churned as he ran, and Blake took satisfaction in noting that, while Adam managed to block some of her attacks, a few managed to slip past and bite into his heels and ankles. Finally, Adam planted his sword into the ground and turned to face Blake. She knew she needed to be careful, as even the small amount of Dust he'd absorbed from her attacks would be enough to seriously hurt if he caught her off-guard.

He fired his shotgun again, and Blake evaded with her clones as she drew closer to her enemy. She stopped when she was about fifteen yards away, and the two of them stared at each other in the darkness. Adam pulled his crimson sword out of the ground and held it in his usual ready stance. No cocky twirling or biting remarks this time. It looked like Adam had finally realized that he needed to take Blake seriously. Without warning, he bull-rushed his foe and delivered a powerful uppercut with his blade. Blake vanished into smoky mist, and Adam growled once he realized he'd fallen for her deception.

Cloaked and watching from a few paces away, Blake waited to see what Adam would do. She stepped carefully around him while he readied his sword once again. His Aura would almost certainly tell him that she hadn't left, but she doubted that he could pinpoint her exact location with it. The blade in his hand and the hair on his head glowed ever so slightly, and Blake wondered if Adam was really about to waste his stored energy on a shot in the dark. With a wide swing, Adam lashed out in the completely wrong direction, and Blake almost laughed before she realized that the attack had a purpose. The building looming over their battleground didn't disintegrate from Adam's strike, but he caused enough damage to its structural foundation for it to creak and groan as the wall began to slowly tilt.

It dawned on Blake that Adam probably enjoyed the idea of destroying the school she had chosen over him. Every brick that crumbled was something that he could take away from her, and that seemed to be his sole objective now that he realized he could never take her back. And as a side benefit, he would probably use the crash as a means to escape Blake's wrath and live to torment her another day.

And that was unacceptable.

Blake charged at Adam, and he turned to face the source of danger with a grin. The two fighters clashed, with the low creak of the building punctuating their melee. Adam's stamina exceeded Blake's, and she knew it, so a one-for-one trade of blows was simply out of the question. Instead, Blake alternated between an evasive dance and a head-on assault to keep Adam off-balance. While her Aura protested every time Adam dealt blow, Gambol Shroud struck its prey again and again as she responded in kind.

Loose concrete started to fall as the building began to list even further from its slow architectural failure, and Adam smiled as the sights and sounds of the structure's death disturbed Blake.

"It's what you deserve." He said, blocking Blake's latest attack and putting her on the defensive with a blast from his shotgun.

And he deserved far worse. Blake shadowstepped in rapid succession to lose Adam's lock before getting in close once more. She blocked his counterswipe with her arm and winced at the ever-so-slight sound of metal reverberating in response to the contact. In a desperate fury, Blake threw herself into a flurry of rapid attacks, hoping against hope that she could wear him down before he could completely break her Aura. She knew that retreating was the better option, but now that Adam had shown his true, deranged colors, Remnant couldn't afford for him to remain loose and at the head of the White Fang.

Steel beams popped and glass windows shattered behind them, and Blake's rage allowed her to dip into a reserve of energy that fueled her second wind. She swiped, kicked, and jumped her way over, under, and around Adam. Her constant motion stopped Adam from throwing anything other than rapid, lighter attacks her way. Try as he might to wind up a heavy strike, Adam quickly learned that doing so left him open to a needling stab or an opportunistic gunshot. Blake bit back grunts of pain every time Adam's sword glanced off her defenses. She felt the nicks and cuts slowly start to pile up and tax on her stamina.

The gambit almost paid off. Even as the failing architecture fell into its neighbor behind them, Blake could hear Adam's breathing grow ragged. He may have been the more experienced huntsman, but eight months of constant training and fighting on Earth meant that Blake's mentor couldn't confidently claim he was still the most experienced combatant. And as Adam grew tired, he grew angry. As he grew angry, he grew reckless.

"I will not go out like this!" He yelled in frustration as Blake deflected another strike. She watched his Aura fizzle as she landed her counterattack, "The White Fang needs me!"

Blake raised her arm to deliver a (hopefully final) pommel strike to Adam's temple. She dashed in-

Slice.

-and felt a mild feedback shock as Adam's blade severed her limb. She stumbled forward at the sudden change in balance, and Adam whirled around to stare triumphantly at his prize. His jaw dropped at the sight of the sparking, mechanical limb lying on the ground between the two fighters.

Beacon tower exploded, causing Blake and Adam to glance up as shards of glass and metal rained down from the sky. The largest chunk of twisted steel hurtled towards their battleground, and the ground shuddered as the makeshift meteor crashed into the tilted building with a reverberating boom.

Amid the chaos, both combatants tried to take the other by surprise. Blake instinctively dropped a clone at the last second and swung her sheath at the back of Adam's head as she blew past him. Moments after she felt her weapon connect, the sky fell down around them, and Blake dashed to safety away from the collapsing building. Blake doubled back once the dust settled to see Adam, face mask shattered and his eyes fixated on the mechanical limb, with his lower body crushed underneath a pile of rebar and concrete while a pool of blood slowly grew beneath him.

"What… what the fuck…?" He muttered, eyes wide as he watched Blake stow Gambol Shroud and slowly walk over to pick up the alien limb with her other alien limb.

She walked back to Adam's crippled body, knelt down in front of his face, and locked eyes with him before answering, "The last person the White Fang needs is you, Adam. Murdering thousands of innocents, humans and faunus alike, just to 'make a statement?' This does nothing for our cause, and only serves to satisfy your own ego. You've taken everything my father worked tirelessly and thanklessly to build, and you've burnt it to the ground with blind and petty hatred."

Perhaps in the final minutes of his life, the real Adam would break through and give Blake some words of encouragement, some confirmation that he had twisted himself into something evil and that she had done the right thing by putting a stop to his madness.

"Get off your high horse, you fucking bitch. You're no better than me, and you know it."

… Nope. Blake sighed and stood up to leave, but not before she delivered her final words to the dying man, "May the world never learn of how evil you have become."

"As I am certain you are already aware, the Vytal Festival has suffered a catastrophic attack."

Jaune crashed into the pillar with a grunt and spun unceremoniously across the floor. Evidently, the upload of Pyrrha's message to the CCTS forced this woman to stop playing with her food and kicked her murderous intent into overdrive. The sound of clashing swords rang in his ears, and he looked up to see the two women fighting like wild hellcats. Jaune realized at that moment that, while Pyrrha certainly didn't go easy on him during their one-hundred and twenty-five bouts, she didn't throw everything she had at him, either. The intruder kept trying to catch Pyrrha off-guard with fire blasts, but Pyrrha was having none of it. Her weapon spun like it had a mind of its own while Pyrrha expertly pivoted back, forward, under, up, and over.

Jaune scrambled to his feet and watched as his partner contorted her body into positions and angles that he never thought possible. Against any other opponent, the titanic display of skill would have been overkill…

"We are not sure who the instigators are, and we do not yet know their motive."

… Here, though, it was the only thing keeping her alive. While this woman clearly didn't possess the same degree of technical skill, she exuded raw power. Jets of flame sent Pyrrha sliding back, and a volley of arrows struck her shield before she could throw herself back into melee. And even then, the amount of force this woman put behind every blade swing and shoulder shove made Jaune nervous. He was a strong dude, but his partner was always able to work around his brute strength by outmaneuvering him. Their opponent, on the other hand, had just enough finesse to avoid falling into Pyrrha's checkmate.

Armaments at the ready, Jaune held his ground by Ozpin's console and waited for an opening. He knew that the recording was the woman's primary target, but it also seemed like she knew better than to try and make a break for it and risk turning her back on Pyrrha. And while Jaune was itching to help his partner, interrupting her deadly dance with the devil would probably do more harm than good. At the same time, Jaune kept his jump jets hot and his eyes glued to the battle: he wasn't about to be caught flat-footed if Pyrrha needed some backup.

Since he didn't have the attention of a bloodthirsty woman on him with a laser focus like Pyrrha did, Jaune had enough spare attention to listen to the recording playing in the background. With equal amounts of curiosity and frustration, he noticed that it was playing at a slower pace than he remembered Pyrrha speaking. A line would parse, followed by a pause, before the next line would play. Was the audio compiling in batches as it prepped for the world-wide transmission? Jaune didn't know if it was working as intended, but he did know that it means he and Pyrrha would need to stall for even longer before they could be sure that the signal went out.

"It would be unfair of me to tell you that everything is fine, and that you have no need to be concerned. That would be a disservice to you and the gravity of the situation."

Hearing Pyrrha's voice echoing her earlier words of honesty and encouragement unnerved Jaune. The recording sounded so confident, so self-assured, but now their present situation felt like the exact opposite. Jaune would fight through hell or high water for Pyrrha without a second thought, but doubt creeped in from the corners of his mind whether or not they could make it through this fight. The intruder was intent on stopping that recording at all costs, and that feral drive to win was something Jaune had never seen before, on Remnant or Earth. The aliens had untold numbers of soldiers willing to fight and die for the cause, but it felt different. The Sectoids were skittish, the Outsiders were calculating, the Mutons were brutes, and hell, even the Ethereals' air of superiority was more obnoxious than downright terrifying (their psionics served that role well enough). This woman had the tireless drive of a Chryssalid but the deadly intelligence of a Thin Man.

He considered literally fighting fire with fire by pulling out his Plasma Dragon while Pyrrha kept the woman occupied. On the one hand, it might catch her by surprise and provide Pyrrha a much-needed distraction so that she could assess and reengage on her own terms. Plus, the attacker had almost certainly never seen a plasma cannon before, so Jaune would probably have the element of surprise. On the other hand, was it really a good idea to attack the intruder with fire? Would she be able to control it and throw it back in his face? Besides, his shield was his best line of defense, and he wouldn't be able to wield it while using his Dragon.

Pyrrha cried out as a flaming kick caught her off guard and a follow-up Dust blast launched her across the room. The woman leapt forward, a hungry predator relishing the thrill of victory as it moved in for the killing blow, and Jaune ignited his jump jets. Time to rumble.

"But what I can tell you is that we have an international coalition working both tirelessly and heroically to do everything they can to keep you safe."

Jaune slid in front of his partner, raised his shield, and braced. The blow landed, accompanied by a flame that washed across Crocea Mors and poured onto the floor around the two partners while a blinding flash of light enveloped the room. A soft glow bathed Ozpin's office in the attack's aftermath as Jaune's ornamented armor and tower shield rippled with golden energy. He pulled himself up to his full height and stared down the woman who raised a curious eyebrow.

"Interesting…"

She threw herself at her newest foe, but Jaune found (with no small amount of satisfaction) that he didn't backslide or stumble nearly as easily as before. He drove forward with his shield and followed through with a rising slash from his sword. The woman easily hurdled over Jaune's heavy frame, but didn't count on Pyrrha recovering so easily and paid for it with a projectile shield connecting with her ribs. She twisted into a backflip and safely disengaged with the two partners to reassess the situation. Jaune knew that Pyrrha wouldn't allow that, and he felt the familiar spectral tug on his armor and grinned.

It amused him to no end how much the Arc Thrower maneuver had grown on his partner.

"Huntsmen and huntresses from the four Kingdoms have recognized that this is not simply a matter of Valean security…"

Airborne once more, Jaune raced towards his target. Though the woman dodged out of the way at the last second, he felt his sword arm magnetically lash out and the blade grazed her crimson dress. Jaune crashed into the wall with bone-shattering force, but his Aura pulsed and left him feeling no pain. He spun around and held out his shield, knowing that the woman would probably try to slip in a backstab after his collision. Instead, Jaune heard the sound of metal clanging against metal as his partner jumped in to keep their adversary occupied. While he couldn't match Pyrrha's ability to go toe-to-toe with this crazed woman, he could at least offer himself as another tool in his partner's arsenal. His role as a mobile battering ram seemed to be working out pretty well so far, but Jaune could also position himself to keep their foe focused on two fronts instead of just one. He circled the cat fight with weapons ready, and his golden glow made it easy to remind the woman that she had two huntsmen to contend with rather than just one. The side glance she threw his way every few seconds told Jaune that his idea was working. Whether it helped Pyrrha or not remained to be seen, but at least he had something he could do while he waited for his partner to pull back and throw him back into the fray.

Out of the corner of his eye, something caught Jaune's attention. His stomach twisted when he realized what it was. Calling out Pyrrha's name in warning would only distract her long enough for a sword to slip between her ribs. Jaune only had one option.

He fired up his jump jets and charged the two women. The invader backstepped out of the way, but Jaune wasn't worried about her for the moment. He plowed into Pyrrha, who let out a cry of surprise, and the two of them jetted into Ozpin's desk where Jaune twisted around to take the brunt of their impact with the furniture.

The room shattered moments later.

"… But a crisis that demands that all the people of Remnant must stand together to face it."

The two huntsmen pulled themselves up to their feet as they assessed the situation. The dragon (latched onto an Atlesian cruiser) had torn away the back half of the room during its haphazard flyby, elevator shaft and all. Jaune figured that his partner could probably use her magnetics to safely drop them down the gaping maw into the lobby after they were done here. The bigger issue, however, was the wide open gap to the outside of the tower. One wrong jet launch could send Jaune tumbling through the air and effectively remove him from the fight if Pyrrha wasn't quick enough to pull him back with her semblance.

Speaking of which, Pyrrha had already found a silver lining in the change to their situation. Clock gears spun in a protective formation around the two partners as they scanned the room for their foe. Jaune held his shield up, ready to deflect any arrows that the woman might send their way. His ears picked up the tinkling sound of glass from the wreckage of the far side, and he inched closer to Pyrrha. They didn't have to wait long before the source of the noise made itself known: a flurry of broken shards assailed their fortress, shattering against the gears and eroding away at Jaune's Aura like a thousand tiny swords.

A volley of flaming arrows followed in short order that melted the granular whirlwind as it passed through and bounced off of Jaune's shield. He hissed in pain from the burning fluid splattering against the side of his face, and he could feel his Aura starting to flag as it strained to protect him, but Jaune held firm against the storm. Pyrrha grunted, and the gear wall shot forward into the room. Jaune heard a cry of surprise, and he sighed in relief at the sight of the crimson woman lying face-down on the floor. Before he could go investigate whether she was alive or dead, Jaune felt a weak tug on his pant leg.

"Jaune…" Pyrrha breathed, and Jaune noticed with concern that numerous lacerations criss-crossed her arms and chest. The fatigue in her eyes and the weakness in her arms… had she used the last of her energy to throw those gears? "I… I need to rest."

Before he could answer, the ground shuddered beneath their feet.

"We will fight shoulder-to-shoulder, back-to-back to fend off the Grimm."

A column of purple energy exploded through the floor and seared the room with explosive force. The windows that still remained shattered in an instant, and both huntsmen were blasted out into the night sky.

"Pyrrha!"

His Semblance had all but vanished after absorbing the damage from the rupture, but the sight of Pyrrha's rag doll body lit a fire in his heart as he propelled himself towards his partner. His jump-jets allowed him to easily catch up with her, and Jaune pulled Pyrrha into his arms as he tried to pivot himself to jet boost their free fall into a softer landing. He waited until he was about halfway to the ground before igniting his thrusters. His descent slowed with a sudden jerk, then picked up speed again as gravity regained its hold. With the ground rushing up left between him and a hard landing, Jaune initiated a second burn.

Only three of the four thrusters answered his command, and the unexpected imbalance threw Jaune into the tower wall. His head smashed into the iron with a crack, and the world went black.

"And we will find out who caused this so that we may bring this horrific chapter to a conclusive end."

The huntsmen and operatives had just about finished cleaning up the remaining Grimm in the Safe Zone when Beacon lived up to its name and painted the night sky with a purple lance. The column dispersed high in the atmosphere, and whatever had powered the supernatural phenomenon shut off after a few short seconds. While the comms had become dirty with static after the dragon tore off half of the CCTS tower with its crash landing, they were once again well and truly dead after the purple beam blew the transmission tower wide open.

While the death beam probably meant more problems for XCOM, the comm issue at least gave Bradford something to focus on in the short term while his mind worked to process the new information.

"I hope you made some progress on rigging up the Odin as a radio tower, Doctor," Bradford muttered to Vahlen, "Because I'm out of ideas for Remnant-to-Remnant communications."

Bradford keyed his comm to the Temple Ship channel and hailed his Field Commander with a weary sigh, "Commander, the dragon's been dealt with, but our comms have been knocked offline again."

No answer. Bradford checked his earpiece and tried again. No matter how sketchy communications had been on Remnant, patching through to Earth never had any problems. "Pete, this is Bradford. Acknowledge."

Nothing. Ice crept into the Central Officer's veins as an awful thought passed through his mind. He tried again a third and a fourth time to contact the Temple Ship, and each attempt met with failure. Bradford turned back to Vahlen, and the subtle horror growing on her face matched the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Bradford…" she whispered, "The light… You don't think that we…?"

The Central Officer nodded, "Unless something changes within the next few minutes, I think we can only draw one conclusion here."

Vahlen fumbled with her datapad and took a rattled breath, "We're… cut off." She looked back at Bradford, "What do we do?"

Bradford didn't know. But he knew that saying as much was never an acceptable answer. "The only thing we can do. Survive."

A/N: And that concludes this arc's round of 'Make everything miserable for XCOM.' Now that they've hit rock bottom, it's time for them to find a way to build themselves back up. And I'm going to really enjoy writing the process of building them back up.