"That is what I've learned so far," Winter told the four teens. "Sometime before the attack on Beacon, Headmaster Lionheart stopped communicating with the other three. He has also taken actions that I find to be out of character. He has taken a passive approach to the upcoming crisis, insisting that everything is under control."
"Captain Schnee?" Ren interrupted. "Is it necessarily his responsibility to prepare for the crisis, outside of Haven itself?"
"The headmasters have more influence than most people realize," she informed him. "General Ironwood has a great deal of influence on the Atlas Council, as Professor Ozpin had with the Vale Council. Headmasters have the responsibility to prepare their kingdoms against crises such as struck Vale and is building against Mistral."
"How can we help?" Jaune asked.
The blunt question seemed to take the captain aback. She stared at the young, blonde man, not knowing what to say.
"We were all at the fall of Beacon," he reminded her. "We don't want to see it happen again. We're not experienced huntsmen, but I think we're all you have at this point and in our defense, we managed to fight our way across Anima."
"Indeed," she murmured, giving him a piercing look. "Very well, tell me anything you find relevant about your trip."
The team first told her about the fight with Tyrian and Qrow's intervention. Ruby noted a scowl forming on Winter's pale features whenever they mentioned her uncle. Then, they told about Qrow downloading the file so that they could see the headmaster. After this, they told her about the skirmish at the port of entry and lieutenant Avarken's concerns about dust supplies. Finally, they told her about spotting Roman Torchwick.
"Most of the trip wasn't anything to talk about," Jaune concluded. "Just doing some huntsman work in exchange for goods, services and a few lien when we could."
By unspoken consent, they didn't talk about Ron.
In response, Winter fixed them with a cold stare that lasted long enough to make them all squirm.
"You're not telling me everything," she finally said.
"No, we're not," Jaune agreed. "And you're not telling us everything. The secrets we're keeping have nothing to do with this mission."
"I reserve the right to judge that!" She snapped at them. "If you were my soldiers, you would be imprisoned for insubordination."
"We are not your soldiers," Ren pointed out. "We are neither equipped nor paid by the Atlesian Military. We have offered our help, free of such obligation on your part but that means were are helpers, not soldiers. We have taken no oaths to follow your orders. We retain certain rights and one of those rights is to our own privacy."
Again, Winter glared at each one in turn. Ruby swore she could see gears turning behind the exquisite woman's eyes. Finally...
"Very well," her voice was still harsh and clipped. "As much as I despise Qrow Branwen, I have to admit that he's a capable agent. I guess I'm going to be forced to accept any help I can acquire."
Jaune quickly put a retraining hand on Ruby's shoulder, just in time to head off an angry outburst.
"You must know that I'm in Mistral on official business," she informed the team. "I am the Atleasan Liaison Officer, seeking to ease tensions between the kingdoms. The current situation should make it clear how impossible this task has proven to be."
"Or how little progress you've made," Ruby pointed out.
"I have informants within Mistral," the officer continued, with a hard look at Ruby. "They tell me that the bandit attacks on the borders, outposts and outlying settlements have been increasing. As almost everyone knows, where the bandits go, the grimm follow."
"We learned that at Shion," Jaune grumbled.
"It is my conclusion that these bandits are working towards a greater purpose," Winter continued, now glaring at Jaune for interrupting her. "It isn't a case of clever bandits attacking this kingdom and taking advantage of the grimm. There is an overall intelligence directing these assaults, using them to weaken the kingdom as a military and political entity. Your conversation with the lieutenant at the outpost, and your fortunate observation of Roman Torchwick confirms my theory."
"So what do we do about it?" Nora asked. When Winter turned her disapproving glare on the younger woman, Nora didn't avert her gaze.
"Roman Torchwick and the warehouse you observed are my best leads," Winter told the group. "If my suspicions are true, and Headmaster Lionheart has become somehow influenced by those who would see Mistral and Haven fall, Torchwick will soon discover that he was observed. He will have no choice but to move whatever cargo he has there, maybe even tonight."
"And that means we do what?" Nora persisted.
"It means we get ready to track whatever he has stored there," She offered a tight, knowing smile. "The four of you are about to get some instruction on basic undercover operations."
Several hours later, Jaune came to the conclusion that he owed his boots an apology. He had gotten them just outside the Kingdom of Vale, when the team eliminated a deathstalker in return for a fishing boat taking them to Anima...and the village cobbler making the boots to replace his old high-tops. They had faithfully carried him across Anima, a process that broke them in to the point that they were as comfortable as sneakers. What had they ever done to deserve this punishment?
Creeping through the storm sewers under the warehouse district, Jaune mentally begged his boots' forgiveness for every step. The original settlement of Mistral had been built on the vertical face of a sheer cliff, where earth-bound grimm simply couldn't travel. As the population grew, the nobility and ruling class occupied the top of the plateau while the lower classes expanded onto the steep slopes below. In theory, the storm sewers should be on a steep enough grade that wastewater would rush through fast enough to sweep all debris away before it could decay.
In theory.
Jaune Arc had marched across almost all of Anima; he had crossed stony mountains and open plains. He had slogged through fetid swamps and waded across slow, muddy rivers. He had even walked over one hundred kilometers while escorting a cattle drive, often as the rear guard and with all that entailed, but he had never smelled anything quite so bad as what he was sloshing through at the moment. Trust 'fixated on arts and presentation' city officials to not do anything about the drainage system until it backed up. Not only were there pits and holes down here, full of water, the occupants of this district had been using them to get rid of anything that they didn't want found. Jaune swore that he had seen arms and legs in the subdued light, but he wasn't about to look any closer into the matter.
He heaved a sigh, sorry that Ruby had to be the one down here with him. Of course, it was really a case of him being down here with her. Winter wanted two people to back her up for her breaking and entering tonight, and two to approach from the sewers. Since Torchwick had seen Ruby, Ruby was automatically assigned the more obscured mission. Since Ren and Nora went nowhere without each other, by default Jaune was in the tunnels with Ruby.
Standing under a drainage grate, the two gave each other miserable looks before continuing, as quickly as they could. The first twenty minutes underground taught them to stay under a grate, and its relatively fresh air, while observing their upcoming route. Once they were sure they knew where they were going, they would hold their breath and rush to the next such grate. Breathing away from them wasn't only unpleasant, Jaune was sure it had to be threatening to their health.
"How much farther?" Ruby gasped, once they reached the sanctuary of the next grate.
Being taller, Jaune could actually look out of the grate. A nearby corner had a working streetlight, which allowed him to read the street signs. He compared them to the map on his scroll.
"We're about two-thirds of the way there," he told her.
She sighed in irritation and he followed suit. This was another harsh lesson in the huntsman's life; the mission was all-important and you had to do whatever it took. Jaune and his companion had faced exhaustion, pain and loss. Now, they were facing a sense of disgust so powerful it almost had a physical presence.
"I don't like being in such a cramped place." Ruby's voice actually trembled a little.
"It's creepy, isn't it?" Jaune was trying to make conversation, but he realized how horrible it must be for the girl.
While Ruby was a much more capable fighter than him, she wasn't very formidable when she didn't have Crescent Rose. In the cramped tunnels, there was no way she could utilize the sniper scythe to any great effect and her semblance would be next to useless, dangerous really, in the confined space. Looking at her more closely in the dim light, Jaune could see the whites around her silver eyes; a mute testament to just how frightened she was.
The fact that she was still functioning drove home just how brave she was.
Light skittering sounded near their feet. Ruby used her scroll at lowest illumination to shine down on a narrow ledge over the latest, foul puddle and Jaune slashed with Crocea Mors. All the training was coming in useful; he was able to split the rat without hitting stone. Hissing in disgust, Jaune shared a nod with his companion and the two set off at a rapid pace for the next grate. By unspoken agreement, he kept his sword out while Ruby used her scroll to provide light. The two held hands, Jaune's left and Ruby's right. Although he was the armed party, he had to admit that it felt better knowing she was with him.
They had both heard stories of sewers filled with hordes of rats that would overwhelm and devour people. The reality was thankfully more tame; there was plenty of refuse down here so the varmints weren't terribly interested in eating something that fought back. The infernal vermin were territorial, however, so whenever the duo passed by a mass of decaying matter that they didn't really want to look at, they could count on at least one of the critters popping out to let them know who owned it. Not wanting to see if aura made one immune to rabies, distemper or any other assorted afflictions, Jaune thought it better to add the previous owners to the stink-pile.
This time, when they paused under the grate, Jaune didn't make an effort to release Ruby's hand. While he told himself that she had to be feeling vulnerable and frightened, he could admit to himself that it calmed him down, as well. She made no effort to disengage, either, so they used that simple gesture to assure each other until they reached their destination. Once at the selected grate, Jaune examined the surroundings; both street level and subterranean. The street was quiet and the local rodent population had apparently decided to concede temporary ownership of this section of the tunnels to the primates. Jaune did notice that a section of the tunnel wall had crumbled nearby, leaving large chunks of stone lying on the floor.
"Stay here and listen for a moment," he told his companion. He used his sheath to rap on the loose stones, evicting the current residents, mammal, reptile, amphibian and arthropod, each more loathsome than the next.
"What are you doing?" Ruby hissed at him.
Rather than answer, he hauled several of the stones to a point under the grate, deciding that he now owed his gloves almost the same apology that he owed his boots. It was worth it, as once he built up a small pile, Ruby was able to stand on it, placing her head at the same level as his. She was now able to see onto the street and breathe the better air he had been enjoying.
"Thanks," she gave his hand a squeeze to emphasize her appreciation. Strangely, neither felt like letting go.
"Fifteen minutes or so," Ruby informed him, checking her scroll again. The two settled in to wait, ready to make a call if they spotted any sort of activity.
"I wonder if we'll be able to see her break in," Ruby whispered, more to take her mind off of her surroundings than real curiosity.
"Probably not," Jaune quietly grumbled in return. "The maddening thing about her sort is that they act all perfect and superior...then prove it."
Ruby couldn't help but reply with an irritated smile. She hated to admit it, but Winter was every bit as capable as she claimed to be.
The time that the Atlesian had earmarked for her break-in came and went without incident. The two teens under the streets divided their time between watching the street and monitoring the increasing boldness of the Mistral subterranean rodent population. Roughly thirty minutes after the scheduled infiltration, muffled shouts sounded from inside the warehouse. The teens then heard the sound of steel striking steel and a shriek of pain. More shouts sounded, then a series of gunshots that were louder than they should have been. The warehouse's window flickered with light. Then, Nora's unmistakably joyous battle cry could be heard followed by a loud thump. Silence returned.
Jaune and Ruby waited another ten minutes, agonizing over what could have happened...what could still be happening...to their friends. Then a car and two trucks pulled up by the warehouse.
"I don't believe this!" Roman Torchwick's voice growled through the dark. "What good is trying to distribute state of the art weaponry if you idiots can't even use it to stop a break-in? You're supposed to be the bad guys, not get rolled by the bad guys! How hard is that to understand?"
The criminal's long, white coat could be seen in the dim light as he hustled into the warehouse. The teens heard a muffled reply.
"Well he's lucky and so are you!" Torchwick snapped back. "If the burglar hadn't finished him off, I would have had to do it! That's always messy and I just had this coat cleaned. That would have made me very cranky!"
A dim light shone for a few moments as he walked in the door, allowing Ruby to spot a very short, slender figure accompanying him. She gave Jaune a grim nod; Neo was apparently still with Torchwick. Then Roman and his guard were in the building, leaving a single man to guard the vehicles. The teens shared another nod, and Jaune pulled the blowgun out of his pocket.
When Winter assigned the teams, she gave Ruby and Jaune some tiny examples of Atlesian technology...tiny tracking devices that would attach magnetically to a vehicle. They were small enough that a blowgun could shoot them across a street. When the teens practiced with the devices, Ruby was shocked to find that Jaune was not only more accurate than her, he was able to place a device within inches of his target point. Over the next several minutes, Jaune planted several such devices on each vehicle. Pausing, they listened for any sign that their activities had been detected.
"How did you get so good with a blowgun?" Ruby asked him, admiring his marksmanship.
"I have seven sisters," he answered, lining up another shot.
"Not seeing the connection," she admitted.
"They are all older than me and they all loved to pick on me, when we were kids," he told her, after landing his last shot. "Back then, they liked to wear their hair really long."
"Still not understanding."
"I learned to shoot spit-wads at an early age," he told her, putting the blowgun back in his pocket. "A blowgun's pretty much the same thing."
For some reason, the thought of Jaune being a bit of a naughty child put a smile on Ruby's face.
As expected, Roman observed a small horde of manpower hauling crates out of the warehouse and loading them onto the trucks. For the most part, Ruby and Jaune ducked low into the tunnel and simply listened; Neo was prowling about the area and Ruby had no intention of seeing if the trek across Anima had toughened her to the point she could handle the undersized woman. After a couple of hours of work, another vehicle pulled up.
"Oh for pity's sake!" Torchwick's voice conveyed a great deal of annoyance. "I still have to babysit? So now you're not a toady, you're a gopher! Is that a promotion for you?"
"I do what I'm told," Ruby caught her breath when she recognized Mercury's voice. "The same as you. I'm here to let you know that...our employer...is more than a little nervous about you moving this cargo. Wasn't the whole idea to have it in place well before the festival?"
"Urghh!" Even though they were crouching under the street, Ruby swore she could see Torchwick's face-palm. "Kid, plans change, you should know that. Now, rather than have a private conversation out on the street, why don't we step inside?"
"Where you might have some allies of your own?" Mercury's voice conveyed the sneer that must have been on his face. "Fat chance. I have to be on an airship at dawn, so you better be convincing."
"So now you're not even a gopher," Torchwick chuckled. "You're a messenger boy and a tattletale. Okay, item number one, four former Beacon students showed up at Haven yesterday and got in to see the headmaster. Our employer's contact wasn't able to tell me the entire conversation the old boy had with them, but he found out that the little pests spotted me here. Earlier this night, we had a break-in. Do you think that was a coincidence?"
"Well..." Mercury's usual self-confident tone had cracked a bit.
"The burglars were very capable," Torchwick continued, not giving the younger man a chance to collect his thoughts. "Our associates can handle pretty much anyone that the criminal element here can produce but one of the burglars danced around them like they were wearing lead boots. Another burglar used a sledgehammer to make a shock-wave that put all of the guards out of commission."
Mercury apparently didn't have a response.
"So we have some nosy kids who saw, first hand, what went down in Vale," Torchwick's voice had a tone of conclusion to it. "They spotted me, right here, unloading the merchandise. The very next night, we have a break in by a couple of people who just happen to have fighting skills on par with an experienced huntsman. You better believe I'm moving the goods."
"Okay, I'll buy that," Mercury's cocky tone was back. "But out of the kingdom?"
"Kid, let me give you some advice," Torchwick's voice became almost fatherly and friendly. "We're working with people who don't like failure and prefer to blame someone else when it happens. Now, these super guns that our employer had obtained have been really good, so far. But before I put them in the hands of the White Fang, I'm going to test fire each and every one and make sure they all work. That's a little too much noise to make in the kingdom."
"But the risk," Mercury countered. "Taking them out of the kingdom and bringing them back in? Is it work taking the chance?"
"You kids always ask the wrong questions!" Now, Roman Torchwick was yelling at his tormentor. "The question isn't 'do I dare take the risk?' It's 'what will happen if I don't?' Do you think this place isn't being watched, right now? Do you think we aren't being watched? The only way I keep this gear in Cind...in our employer's hands is to get it out of here! What happens to me if I give five hundred of the White Fang these super guns and only half work? I'll tell you what, either our employer will blame me for damaging the goods or the White Fang will blame me for setting them up to get crushed, or both!"
"No kid," Torchwick sighed. "When I took the goods, I became responsible for them, so I better make sure they work."
"But out of the kingdom?" Mercury prompted.
"Kid, the borders to this kingdom are as porous as a sieve, if you know the right people," Torchwick was back to using his charming tone. "Believe me on this, I know the right people. I'll keep the super guns and the wonder weapons safe. In fact, I'll test the one of the wonder weapons, as well."
"But it's supposed to be huge," Mercury protested. "We only have three of them!"
"Exactly," Roman agreed. "So I'm going to make sure that at least one of them works as promised before it's my skin on the line if they don't!"
"You don't trust our employer?" Mercury's voice didn't have a great deal of challenge in it.
"Kid, if everyone delivered what they promised, you'd be drowning in lien and those pills I bought a few years back would have given me a much larger..."
"This stuff is a little more serious," Mercury interrupted. "Do you really think anyone would swindle our employer...or hers?"
"There's too many middlemen and too many promises for my comfort," there was a pause in Torchwick's statement. Ruby could imagine him lighting a cigar to emphasize his point. "I found out the hard way that the cases the miracle ammunition came in were encased in lead foil. No latch, no way of opening them but to chisel through the lead, and even then, there were wires run through the foil. If I hadn't peeked at the goods, I'd be trying to open them up in the middle of a shoot out."
"Okay, maybe that's just the way they're stored," Mercury countered him.
"The story about them is just too unbelievable to accept at face value." Torchwick told him. "Kid, if there's one thing you can trust your Uncle Roman to do, it's to cover his own butt. I've got an idea to test one of the wonder weapons. If the weapon works, our employers will be happy with the results and if it doesn't, we won't be exposed."
"So where are you taking the merchandise?" The challenge had left Mercury's voice.
"Here, kid," Ruby heard a quiet rustle of paper. "It's a travel guide of sorts. It details the settlements to the west, in the swamps. Lots of nice places with space and no questions, if you know where to look. Now, are you satisfied with what I'm doing?"
"I am," Mercury told him. "But as for...our superiors?"
"I understand," Torchwick's voice had a tone of finality. "I've got work to do and you've got an airship to catch. Good luck."
Ruby heard a vehicle drive off, followed shortly by Torchwick snarling at the workers to pick up the pace. There were the groans of burly men hauling heavy loads, the thumps of heavy objects being set down and the creak of the trucks accepting the cargo.
"Okay, that's it," Torchwick's voice declared after a roughly an hour of work. "Neo, if you'll do the honors; the rest of you, follow me."
Ruby heard the vehicles' engines start then heard them drive off. Silence quickly returned to the immediate area. Jaune sneaked a peek at the warehouse.
"Nothing's happening," he reported to Ruby. She joined him in observing the building.
"Wait, is that a flicker coming from the window?" Jaune asked her. By the time Ruby realized what he was looking at, the orange flicker had gotten brighter.
"There's a fire in the warehouse!" Ruby gasped. "That's the 'honor' Torchwick told Neo to take care of." She tried to force the grate open.
"No!" Jaune hissed at her. "We're not firefighters! There's nothing we can do and Torchwick might have someone keeping an eye on the warehouse, seeing if the fire will draw a watcher out!"
Ruby dropped back to the rock pile, realizing that he was right.
"We have to get out of here," he told her. She nodded and took his hand.
It was a couple of more hours in the loathsome tunnels before they reached the exit point they had selected. Dawn was brightening the eastern sky as they emerged from the tunnels next to a creek, in a small park. Stepping out of the dark, Ruby immediately heard a quickly stifled giggle from the off to one side. She put a hand up to silence Jaune, and they kept quiet as a teen couple emerged from the bushes and adjusted their disheveled clothing, before walking off hand-in-hand. More whispers and shuffling sounded from their other side, telling the two that they had managed to pick the local hook-up spot as their exit point.
"Maybe we should wait a few minutes," Ruby suggested, then her voice went silent.
Down in the tunnels, she hadn't been able to see her companion very well. Now, it was obvious that he hadn't spent a restful night in bed. His clothing and armor had streaks of filth from the tunnel walls. His face was grimy and streaked with trickles of his sweat. His hair was disheveled and had cobwebs mixed in with it. Horrified, Ruby realized that she must present the same condition. They had to walk several blocks to get to their room and in their current state, they risked drawing curious stares. Ruby thought quickly.
"There's a pond in the center of the park," she whispered to Jaune. "Let's get there and clean off the worst of the grime." Jaune nodded his understanding.
They didn't flush any more lovebirds, but they thought they heard another couple leaving the park. Thankfully, the pond was crystal clear and bordered on two sides by a brick walkway. They took turns, washing their hands and faces and washing the worst of the filth from their clothing and armor. Unfortunately, they didn't have combs or brushes, so their hair was still unkempt. Beside that, their clothing wouldn't stand up to close scrutiny without revealing that they had been up to something dirty and unpleasant the night before. How could they get back to the rooms without drawing any attention? Suddenly, she knew what to do.
She clung to Jaune's left arm as they walked out of the park. She wasn't tall enough to put her head on his shoulder, but his mid-biceps would do.
"Ruby?" He asked. "What are you..."
"Just get a silly, happy look on your face and play along!" She hissed at him. She put what she hoped was an empty-headed smile on her face.
"Are you trying to make it look like we..."
"That must be what the locals use the park for," she whispered to him. "This way, folks won't look at us all that close. It wouldn't be polite."
He gulped audibly.
"It's okay to blush," she told him, pretty sure the red color was rising into her face, as well. Then, she got a little of her fire back. "You can look tired. If we had done what it looks like, I'd have worn you out!"
"And I would have returned the favor," he grumbled back.
She couldn't help but giggle a little, which probably helped the act. She looked up at his face and realized that he was nervous but very amused, just like her.
He shortened his stride so that she could comfortably match her pace to his. While there were more than a few knowing smirks directed their way, the observers merely smiled and looked somewhere else. By the time they reached their rooms, Ruby had a very satisfied smile on her face; which she realized probably enhanced the ruse. That smile didn't last long after they reached their rooms, to find Winter Schnee on one of the beds, her left thigh wrapped in a bandage.
Ruby and Jaune didn't get an immediate explanation; Winter, Nora and Ren all insisted that the two tunnel rats shower and change into clean clothing. In fact, since they had two rooms, each was chased into a shower while someone else collected their dirty clothes, with a stick, to run to the hotel's laundry room. For once, Ruby was grateful that her friends had insisted that she obtain some additional clothing; her battle skirt and top desperately needed cleaning as badly as she did. Soon, she and Jaune were freshly cleaned and sitting with the rest of the team, devouring some take-out breakfast. Once finished, Winter told them what she had found.
"There were crates full of some form of rifles," she told them, with a gesture towards a weapon lying on a desk. "I took one of them from one of the guards. Another guard opened fire on me and the bullets were too fast for me to dodge or block."
She pulled her saber from its sheath and held it up for observation. It had several gouges in the metal.
"I've blocked more rounds than the four of you can imagine," she stated. "This blade has never taken damage while in my hands before this mission. There's something about that rifle and the ammunition that it fires that could turn the balance in any battle."
Jaune showed her the hole in his shield and the damage to his armor.
"So whomever we face has already deployed some of these weapons," she concluded.
"How badly are you wounded?" Jaune asked.
"Three bullets went through my thigh," she told him. "Despite the fact that my aura was strong. Fortunately, it is muscle damage and blood loss; not organ or bone damage. I will be capable of functioning by tomorrow. However, these rifles were not the only thing stored in the warehouse. There were three large crates with strange symbols on them...a dot surrounded by three arcing polygons that formed an incomplete circle...yellow on a dark background. I didn't get a chance to open one of them before the guards forced me to retreat."
The Atlesian simply looked at the teens for several minutes, not speaking. Finally, Ruby decided to ask the question...
"What do we all do now?"
"First, I need the two of you to tell me everything that you observed," Winter informed the teenager.
With occasional input from Jaune, Ruby told the whole story. Ren and Nora became concerned when they heard that Neo was with Torchwick again. They became visibly grim when they heard that Mercury was, as well."
"Mercury was working for Cinder," Nora growled. "I'd like to meet up with him and discuss where she is right now. She killed..."
"We can worry about revenge later," Winter interrupted her. "Miss Rose, please continue."
Ruby finished telling the tale, concluding with the disguise she adopted to get her and Jaune from the park. Nora, who had been fuming at Mercury's name, was snickering at the two when Ruby finished.
"I have a contact and a method to get this rifle back to Atlas," Winter told them. "But I will need to leave the kingdom to make use of it. In the meantime, I'll need the four of you to follow the rest of the weapons and the other crates."
"And we'll use the bugs you planted to do so?" Ren asked. "Torchwick is no fool, I'm sure he has a method of scanning for such devices."
"I planted two types of tracking devices," Winter informed him. "The first are active, producing a continuous signal. They will be relatively easy to locate. The other type are reactive, they will only respond to a particular signal. These will be much harder to locate. He will find the active transmitters, be satisfied that he has cleared the cargo of tracking devices and conclude that there are no more to be found."
"As long as he does what you think he will," Ruby grumbled.
"Be that as it may," the older woman glared at Ruby. "I will load the proper files onto your scrolls. You will need to be ready to move by the end of the day. The local CCT signal will allow you to track the devices anywhere in the kingdom but once they leave the tower's coverage, you'll have to get within direct scroll range to track them. I will also give you some instructions on how to contact me with what you find."
The older woman gave the four a penetrating look, "I hope you hadn't planned on a vacation, the fate of Mistral could rest on your shoulders."
"This doesn't look exactly like the pinnacle of technology."
Weiss looked over her shoulder, partially irritated and partially amused.
"This isn't the kingdom proper," she pointed out. "Even on Solitas, there are areas outside the kingdom."
"So when do we get to Atlas?" Ron asked her.
"Once we get the cargo unloaded, we can guard it on the way to the kingdom," she reminded him. "So perhaps you can quit talking to that rat friend of yours and lend the crew a hand."
"I'm just trying to be social," Ron protested. "If the little guy want's to talk to me, I'm more than willing to talk back."
"It isn't natural," Weiss growled. "Now, let's help the crew. The quicker we get the cargo to the trucks, the quicker we get to Atlas and the quicker the scientists can get to work..."
Getting you home, Weiss couldn't bring herself to finish.
Ron extended one finger to a sleek rat sitting on the ship's rail. The rodent raised one tiny fore-paw and gave the young man a friendly swat, paw to finger, before scampering down the rail and through a flaw in the ship's decking. The young woman shook her head; trying to convince herself that she had not seen the young man teaching the rat how to play video games on his scroll last night.
She raised a hand to her mouth, disguising a resigned sigh as a bored yawn. She liked Ron's company and would be sorry to see their journey come to an end. He was open and friendly, something that she wasn't used to in dealing with the Atlesian upper class. Once she got him to Atlas Academy, she was sure that he would be whisked into a classified laboratory while she would wind up doing...whatever she wound up doing next.
Weiss watched, only slightly interested, as the cargo hatch was winched open and a line of crewmen, longshoremen and Ron filed down the ramp and into the hold. In the kingdoms, cargo would already be in storage containers, to be quickly and efficiently winched out of the hold and onto waiting ground transportation. Here, outside the kingdoms and working with contraband, muscle power would do the job. Burly men started filing out of the ramp and down a gangplank, heaving their burdens onto a series of trucks.
"You could lend a hand," Ron pointed out, as he trudged by, several large crates of fruit on his shoulders.
"I'm on guard," she countered. "If I helped and we were attacked, I'd have to drop cargo to fight. We can't have that."
He gave her a measured look but delivered his load to the ground vehicles. She smirked at this while he came back.
"We could trade jobs," he suggested. "You could take a load while I guard, and visa-versa."
"Physical exertion is good for developing aura," she informed him. "The work is doing you good. Besides, I don't have Mystical Monkey Power."
He gave her another measured look but scampered back down into the hold, returning once more with several crates on his shoulders.
"If you're on guard, why aren't you up in the rigging, where you can see up and down the shore?" He demanded. "Someone could be among the porters by the time you saw them."
"I'm guarding against embezzlement as much as attack," she informed him. "I have to make sure you porters don't pocket some of the goods."
Again, he gave her a measured look but delivered his latest load to the vehicles.
Weiss continued to watch as her companion assisted with the offload. Between aura and his other power, he was able to haul considerably more than his fellow laborers. The night crept by as the ship became lighter, riding higher and higher in the water by the time the moon reached the western quarter of the sky. All the time, Weiss kept watch over the area and provided Ron with mostly true reasons why she shouldn't pitch in with the unloading effort.
She nearly screamed when a rat scampered out of a hole, up Ron's body and perched with it's mouth to his ear. The man's eyes became a little misty as he gave the rodent a hand back to the deck.
"We're finished," Ron told Weiss. "Robert just wanted to say goodbye."
"Robert?"
"He thinks it sounds classier than Bob," Ron shrugged.
Not knowing if he was playing her or not, she led the way to the trucks. The rough man in the lead one simply nodded at the passenger side of his own vehicle. Weiss and Ron climbed in.
"It'll be a couple of hours," Weiss told him. Ron offered a tight nod, clearly agitated about something.
The road between Atlas and this port town was narrow and very steep. The trucks moved slowly, something that clearly distressed Weiss's companion. He tapped his hands nervously on his weapons and repeatedly examined his scroll, clearly trying to keep himself occupied. Weiss guessed that he must be exited about finally getting to the scientists that may get him back home; back to his family and friends.
Back to her.
She was tempted to ask Ron to show her a picture of the girl back home...Kim. She had only a glimpse of her from the moment their souls intersected...more a feeling of how much she meant to him rather than what she looked like. Then, Weiss remembered that they weren't alone; the truck driver was a smuggler and by definition someone who was untrustworthy. Instead, she pulled her own scroll out and scanned for news about her family. As usual, there were articles about the questionable moral and legal practices her father was conducting. She sighed; it was too bad he had disinherited her. Now that she was eighteen she could have...
"Weiss?" Ron looked at his companion. "Is something wrong?"
"No..." she replied. "I'm going to have some work to do when we get to Atlas."
"Anything I can help with?"
"I don't think so," she shook her head. "Worry about yourself for right now."
While Ron didn't appear to be satisfied with her answer, he at least didn't question her further. She continued to make some plans. Kline would help, she was sure. She would have to be careful for this to work but if she could pull it off...
In due course, the trucks reached a gate. The guards gave the contents a hungry look...and were sent away with a handful of apples each. Ron looked troubled as they drove into the city proper.
"How bad is the pay if guards can be bribed with a couple of apples?" He asked.
"It's not as bad as you think," the driver spoke up. "Solitas is too far north for fruit to grow so with the embargo, it's getting rare. The scientists can make plenty of vitamin supplements for basic nutrition, but the taste of an apple or a plum is something special. Don't worry, if we had been carrying something dangerous, they wouldn't have let us through."
"At least not without a much bigger bribe," Weiss thought.
"Okay, here we are," the driver declared. They were in a narrow alley.
The driver got out and knocked on a plain door, the back entrance to some shop. A spyhole opened and words, too quiet to be understood, were exchanged. The door opened and several people stepped out.
"Keep watch," the driver told the two, after returning to his vehicle. "Police don't patrol down here very much but rival gangs might try to grab the goods."
It took a couple of hours to unload the contraband and haul it into the building. Weiss was pretty sure that by this time tomorrow, it would be distributed among the lower classes...for an inordinate amount of lien. Dawn was tinging the eastern sky when the driver approached them again.
"We're done," he told them. "I don't know who you're working for, but keep in mind that we're a resource of his...of sorts. We're not bringing in anything dangerous...in a way, we're helping to keep the peace. As long as nobody messes with us, we're not about to cause trouble. Don't go telling anyone where you dropped off the goods and everything will be fine. Now, exercise is good for you, so I'm sure you can find where you need to go, on your own."
With that, the man returned to his truck and started it up. Moments later, the small convoy had left the alley and Weiss and Ron were left alone. Weiss pulled out her scroll and called up a navigation program.
"We have a few kilometers to walk," she told him, after working the controls for a few minutes. "No problem for us, is it?"
"No," he shrugged. "Will there be any problems with the locals?"
"I don't think so, as long as we keep moving," she emphasized the point by striding purposefully out of the alley. "This is a rough part of the city, but Atlesians are a pretty law-abiding bunch. Let's just keep moving so nobody thinks we're an easy mark."
Ron nodded and the two made their way through the brightening city. Early risers were starting to appear on the streets. Here, in a rough part of town, the pair's rough clothing drew no second glances. As they continued, they entered an industrial district. While second glances were rare, they were starting to become apparent.
"As much as I hate to criticize anyone's choice in clothing," Ron whispered to his guide. "I think we're going to stick out if we get to a place dedicated to science and research."
"Let me worry about that," Weiss told him. "As much as I hate to admit it, I have way too much familiarity with the upper crust."
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Ron insisted.
"I guess it's who I am," she shrugged. "Back on your world...Earth...did you ever spend time with the powerful and influential?"
"Rarely," he admitted. "There was an organization called the United Nations. It was supposed to be a meeting place for all nations to send representatives in order to resolve any differences peacefully. There was an organization within it called the General Assembly, where they all met. I parachuted into it while it was in session once...without pants."
It was a testament to Weiss's training that while she stared at him, she managed to keep moving.
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"It was a very traditional group of bureaucrats," he told her. "But my "all about the comfort" explanation brought their dress code up to date."
Weiss changed their direction of travel once in the heart of the industrial district. Not all of Atlas Academy bordered on upper class neighborhoods and she was angling towards the back of the campus. As the sun finally rose above the horizon, she located an imposing gate and exposed her scroll to the scanner. After a few moments, the gate unlocked.
"Okay, now where?" Ron asked. The young man had to plant his shoulder onto the gate to swing it open, creaking hinges testified to how long it had been since this portal had been used.
"We keep close to the wall and head right," she told him. "There's a place for...special students...away from the traditional dormitories."
"By special, you mean the type that the administration doesn't want to admit are present?" He asked. With a grunt of exertion, he closed the gate behind them.
"Exactly," she told him. "The fewer questions, the better. The headmaster should know we're on his way but he's a busy man so..."
"We might have to wait for some time?"
"Yes," she nodded. "For all I know, he isn't on the campus yet."
She led the way to what appeared to be an abandoned building, but the door opened when she waved her scroll in front of it. Once inside, Ron noted that they were in an interior lobby, plain but well maintained, with perhaps a dozen doors lining the sides. She led him to one of the doors, which also opened to her scroll's presence. She ushered him into the dark space on the other side.
"What's with all of the other doors?" He asked her.
"I never asked, nobody ever told me." She said. She turned on some lights, revealing a small, but comfortable set of rooms.
"But you suspect something," he told her.
"I suspect that at least some of these other apartments are also occupied," she told him. "This one is mine. I also need my scroll to leave this apartment. Sometimes, there's a delay when I try to unlock the door. I suspect that there's an access control system that makes sure the various residents don't encounter each other."
"Man, this is really cloak and dagger stuff, isn't it?" He actually had a wide smile on his face for once. She had to admit that it looked good on him.
"I'm not familiar with the term," she informed her guest. "But I can guess what it means. Yes, this seems like the things you would read in a spy novel. Anyway, there's a small kitchenette through that door. If you'll make us something to eat, I'm going to take a shower and change into something else. After that, we'll get you cleaned up. You'll at least meet General Ironwood looking your best."
Ron couldn't argue with that. He found the cooking facilities to be tiny but reasonably well stocked. If this general were not expecting them, it could be some time before they were called. He threw a casserole together fairly quickly and got it into the oven by the time his hostess was out of the shower. After washing the dishes he had used, he stepped back into the main room. Weiss was clad in a heavy robe, pulling clothing out of a closet. She waved him towards the bathroom, so he dug his Remnant attire out of his pack and went in to clean off. Their at sea-time had left them both a little less than ideal.
When he stepped back into the apartment's main room, freshly shaved and showered, his breath caught at the sight of his hostess.
"Is something wrong?" She asked him.
"Is...this what you usually wear?" He asked her.
The white and gray dress she was wearing seemed to expose more of her legs than was practical...and Ron noticed that although she was petite, she was clearly in shape.
"Is there a problem?" She demanded.
"No, it's just that...I guess I'm used to seeing you in pants...I wasn't expecting to see you in a dress." She gave him an odd look. "You look good," he told her. "Not that you're trying to look good or anything...but...I'm just digging myself in deeper, aren't I?"
"I understand," she told him. "You clean up pretty well, yourself."
While both still felt a little awkward, the worst of the odd moment was past.
They were both saved any further embarrassment by the sound of the oven timer. As the cook, Ron served the two of them at the table...which doubled as a study desk. Apparently, whomever had designed the apartment had intended it to be occupied by a single person, but had taken into account that the occupant might have a single guest. There were two chairs and just enough room for both to sit at the table. While the casserole wasn't fancy, it was a welcome change from several days of at-sea rations. Afterwards, Ron cleaned up while Weiss did some additional research on her scroll.
"Penny for your thoughts," he told her, wiping his hands on a dishtowel.
"Hmm?" She asked.
"Figure of speech from my home," he told her. "A penny was the least valuable lien. It was a way of asking what was on your mind."
"I have a family legacy," she told him. "And my father is trampling it into the mud in the name of profit. This embargo isn't helping, and he's making sure that the faunas are suffering the most. I need to take that legacy back."
"Anything I can do to help?" He asked.
She studied him. Of course there wasn't, but she was still touched by the offer.
"Not really," she shrugged. "But I just let you know what was on my mind. I'd like to see what's on yours, in return."
"Sure, what do you want to know?" He asked.
"Ron, could you show me a picture of..."
Her request was interrupted by her scroll chiming.
"General Ironwood," she told her companion. "He's waiting for us in a secret meeting room! We have to go now!"
"What did you want to see?" He asked her.
"It's not important," she got up and pulled a fashionable jacket from her closet. "This is what you've been working towards for weeks. It's time to meet the man that can send you home."
"To her," she didn't say out loud.
To Weiss's surprise, the instructions she received didn't take them to a secret conference room, but to an elevator in a nearly-abandoned section of the administration building. The elevator took them down; and farther down...and still farther down. It opened onto a loading platform for a narrow gauge railroad, with a train waiting. They climbed aboard, Weiss scanned her scroll and the vehicle started off through a dimly lit tunnel. It accelerated steadily until they were moving at an impressive speed. "We have to be beyond the academy's property line," she mused, watching the rough walls rush by. After several minutes, the train began to decelerate until it came to a stop at another loading platform. On the platform, General Ironwood himself waited.
"Miss Schnee," he offered her a slight bow as she and her companion climbed off of the passenger car. "Welcome to one of Atlas's most advanced and confidential laboratories. I believe that introductions are in order."
"Of course," she nodded. "General Ironwood, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Mr. Ronald Stoppable, a student and hero from the planet Earth. Ron, this is General Ironwood, both head of the Atleasian Military and Headmaster of Atlas Academy."
"General," Ron nodded his head as he extended his right hand. "I understand that you may be able to use the Pan Dimensional Vortex Inducer to send me home."
"If anyone can, it is the Atlas Laboratories," the general shook the younger man's hand. "In return, we wish to learn as much as we can about your world."
"I'm no scientist," Ron warned him. "And I wasn't a hero, either. I was a sidekick to a heroine."
"Then she must have been a special heroine," the general told him. By now, they had passed into the laboratory itself. "Be that as it may, I would like you to turn the device over to Dr. Physiker here. She is our top physicist and has studied the nature of reality itself."
Careful not to touch it, Ron removed the device from his pack. Dr. Physiker and three engineers produced what appeared to be a glass tray for him to set it upon. For the next several minutes, he warned them about direct contact and against allowing it to contact any energy source. He also spoke to them about the few times he had observed it being used. Finally, the physicist let the engineers take the device away for a preliminary analysis while she accompanied Ron, Weiss and the general to a conference room.
It was a very long next few hours for Ron, as he found himself repeating much of the interview with Dr. Oobleck. While Weiss had a scroll recording of that entire incident for the Atlesian Doctor, she insisted upon asking some very pointed questions that the hyperactive Valite had not. When she learned that Ron had a copy of his Chemistry 101 homework on his Kimmunicator, she was very interested in a copy. Finally, she was satisfied for the moment.
"We are going to re-calibrate some of our aura-testing equipment to monitor a broader spectrum," she informed her audience. "We will then analyze Mr. Stoppable utilizing his Mystical Monkey Power. Doing this may allow us to tune in to his reality."
"May?" Ron prompted.
"We are working with unknown science, young man," she informed him, glaring at the implication that she may not be up to the challenge. "I foresee that we will have several false starts and a great deal of frustration before we achieve our goal. That said, I will require you to be here at 9:00 AM tomorrow morning. We will be ready for our preliminary tests at that time."
"How much time to analyze the data and determine the next step?" General Ironwood asked.
"It could be days or weeks," the doctor shrugged.
Ron's shoulders slumped, an action that both the general and Weiss noted.
"In the meantime, you will train with our covert students," Headmaster Ironwood informed him. "You may take on missions against the enemy that is threatening mankind on this world. I have assigned you quarters in the same building that Miss Schnee is staying in." His mouth quirked in a slight grin. "I understand the impatience of youth, Mr. Stoppable, but breakthroughs cannot be rushed. The best that you can do is keep yourself busy while waiting."
Shortly after this, the meeting broke up, with Weiss and Ron returning to their quarters. Ron found his apartment, which opened to his scroll, and stumped inside. It had been a very long night, so he fetched what few possessions he had with him from Wiess's apartment and tried to settle in for some sleep. Weiss, on the other hand, had work to do.
She first called Klein, then one of the family attorneys and finally, the family doctor. Once done, she looked at the calendar and selected a day, three weeks in the future. She was determined to make the meeting of the Schnee Dust Company Board of Directors, on the day she had selected, an interesting one, indeed.
A/N: As always, my thanks to you, the reader, for helping to keep me motivated to write. Huge thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for he beta reading.
Until next time, best wishes
daccu65