Argo

"Lerna," Argo said, stepping back from the man who loomed over him, "if your business is with me, then I'd like to request you dispense with the theatrics and do no further harm to my associate."

"Love ya too!" Rowan shouted, his voice muffled due to his face being firmly planted in the wall.

Lerna sheathed his sword. "Very well. But if either of you makes another move on me or my boys, then you both die. Understood?"

Argo nodded. "Barging into a place like this with weapons drawn wasn't exactly the politest way of saying hello. Can you blame us for assuming our lives were in danger?"

Lerna chuckled. "Who's to say they ain't?"

Rowan pulled himself free of the wall and dusted himself off. "Right, that's all spooky and stuff, but who are you?"

"This," Argo answered for him, "is Lerna Fen. He's a mercenary, hitman, and all around scumbag."

Lerna feigned offense. "Is that any way to talk about family?"

"You're no family of mine, Fen. And if you were, I'd have insulted you far worse than that."

"Venom runs thicker than blood, boy." Lerna reminded him. His father had drilled those words into his head every day when he was younger. "And in any case I am here on behalf of your dear old dad."

So that was it. Argo's father, Hamadryas, was one of the most influential men in Remnant's underworld. Argo had parted ways with the organization almost six years prior after years under his father's heel. He had thought that he was free of that life, but he should have known it wouldn't be that simple.

Argo nodded. "So I'd assumed. What does he want? I told him I wanted nothing more to do with him, and he seemed to return the sentiment." Argo could still hear the venom that his father had put into his words that night.

"Don't play dumb with me," Lerna snarled, "you stole from us, welp."

Ah. So that was what this was about. "I do not recall stealing anything." Argo said, which was technically true. "Are you sure you aren't thinking of one of my father's other sons? There are many of us, after all."

Lerna lurched forward with a roar, grabbing Argo by the throat. "Hamadryas knows you snitched on him to Professor Ozpin! Do you have any idea the kind of damage you did to the family?" He released Argo but kept his hand on the hilt of his sword. "You gotta pay for your betrayal, through Lien or blood."

"I'm not particularly afraid of you." Argo said.

"Don't have to be."

Argo studied the man for a few seconds. He was confident. Too confident. Argo had seen Lerna Fen fight before, and though he was strong, he was also smart enough to know that engaging both him and Rowan was a dangerous prospect. Which meant… Argo felt fear start to creep into his chest. "You're not alone, are you?"

A giggle from directly behind him and the sensation of someone's breath on his neck answered that question. "Ooh," a high pitched voice said, "he's a clever one!"

Argo tried to keep his composure, even as his heart raced. "Piper Bryce, I assume?" He asked, trying desperately to appear calm. "Your reputation precedes you."

Piper leapt over his head and landed in front of him on all fours with a disturbing grace. She was a young girl, perhaps fifteen years old, but that didn't detract from her aura of menace in the slightest. Her tangled mess of hair covered much of her face, but it wasn't enough to conceal the slight red glow to her eyes or her twisted grin filled with sharpened teeth. Tiny carved trinkets hung from her bloodstained clothing that appeared to be carved from human bone.

Lerna smiled. "So, here's how it's gonna go. You pay over the cash equal to the damage you did, or I leave you in the tender care of my dear partner."

Argo had seen the girl's handiwork before, even if they had never met face-to-face. He had little-to-no chance of escaping her attentions alive. "I don't have the money with me," he explained, "but I can get it to you. Please! Just give me a week, I can get it to you!"

The two mercenaries looked at each other and were silent for a few seconds. "I say we give it to him," Piper said, grinning ear-to-ear, "the kill's always more fun when the prey has time to… anticipate it."

Lerna chuckled. "Sure, why not. I've got time to kill. Very well. You've got seven days to get together thirty million lien for us."

Argo stared at him in shock. "Thirty million? That's absurd! The Codes dictate that-"

"That you repay the value of what you stole, I know. The information you gave Ozpin helped take down some of our best operatives. Hamadryas reckons that's about how much revenue was lost, and the other lords agreed. So that's what you pay." He smirked at Argo, baring his yellowed teeth. "If you have a problem, take it up with him. Don't think he'll much care to listen though. See you in a week." He turned to leave, but not before spitting in Rowan's direction. "Don't think you'll get off easy either, blondie. You attacked my men, that means your whole little team is on the line for this."

With that, he walked out the door. Piper gave Argo another razor-toothed grin, then seemed to fade away into the shadows, vanishing before his eyes.

Rowan whistled. "What the fuck was that? You knew those people?"

Argo shook his head. "From a… professional standpoint. Look, I'll explain later. For now, call your sister. We need to have a talk as a team."

James

James Ironwood sat at his desk, poring over the reports from the various teachers who worked at Atlas Academy. He hated this part of the job. He'd become a huntsman to take action against humanity's enemies, not to evaluate report cards and detention slips. He sighed as he glanced at the next paper on the pile. Complaints about Team FNKI's behavior, again. He was beginning to wonder if it had been worth admitting that Katt girl into Atlas to begin with.

A ringing sound came from his desk, and James felt a rush of relief. Finally, a distraction from this tedium. He answered the call and a holographic screen appeared in front of him, displaying the face of Professor Redcap, the Academy's survival instructor. She was a middle-aged woman with short, spiky, platinum blonde hair and a pair of thin-rimmed spectacles. "Sir," she said, "Councilman Pike is here to see you. I'd suggest you let him in before he up and dies of old age."

"Thank you, Robin," he said, and ended the call before pressing the button to buzz in his guest. The doors slid open and the Councilman walked, or rather hobbled, into his office. James had never met anyone else who could make such a limping gait seem intimidating, but the elderly veteran somehow managed it. The first thing that struck you about the Councilman was his age. At almost a century old, Timur Pike was one of the last surviving veterans of the Great War and possibly the only one who still had any sort of public life. His pale skin, nearly translucent white hair, and sunken grey-green eyes made him seem almost like a corpse which had decided that it wasn't going to let something as minor as death stand in its way.

His wrinkled lips curled into a smile at the sight of James. "General Ironwood," he boomed, in a voice far deeper and stronger than his frail form would suggest, "I hope I am not interrupting anything important."

"Nothing that can't wait for an old friend," James said. "Please," he gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk, "sit down. Would you like something to drink? Tea, perhaps?"

"That would be much appreciated," Councilman Pike said as he sat down, laying down his grizzled black cane as he did so. He gazed around the office. "I never thought I'd see this old place again. You know, back in the day, they tried to make me headmaster."

"Tried?"

"I didn't want the job. It was like I told the Council; I'm a soldier, not a huntsman. As similar as the two disciplines may be, the differences were enough that I didn't trust myself to run a place like this." He smiled as James handed him a cup of tea and sipped it slowly. "Looking back, I made the right choice. I can think of no one, myself included, who deserves to sit in that chair more than you."

James sighed. "I wish I could agree. Sometimes I feel like I have no clue what I'm doing. Running an army is one thing, but teaching children? I never learned how to do that!"

"And I never learned how to be a politician. We've made do, which is the best we could do. Besides, I never said you were perfect." He sat back in his chair and sipped his tea. "She's playing you, you know."

James looked at him quizzically. "I'm sorry?"

"Councilwoman Lumina, I mean. I heard what you two discussed last night, and I'm warning you not to fall for it."

"Wait, how did you-"

"James, listen to me. We're soldiers, not politicians. We're on her turf now, and that means we have to be cautious. She's offering you an olive branch, but be careful it doesn't come with a dagger in your back."

James regarded the old man for a few seconds. He certainly seemed to think this was of dire importance. "Well, of course I'm not going to just act like nothing ever happened between us, but Dawn is a good person. If she wants to mend things between us, I can't say no; it'd make me look like the bad guy here."

"And she knows that. For all her good intentions, she didn't get to where she is by being straightforward and honest with her rivals. She's put you in a tricky position, and I don't think she has your interests in mind. Just remember that." He glanced at his watch. "And now, I'm afraid I must be going. My daughter expects me at her house for lunch."

He limped off, leaving James alone with the warning still in his mind. Councilman Pike had a point, he knew. He and Councilwoman Lumina had been on bad terms for years, and the fact that she wanted to make up so suddenly was certainly unexpected, but she'd never struck him as the deceitful type, and he couldn't afford to ignore this opportunity. This was going to be difficult.