"To forget the dead would be akin to killing
them a second time."
– Elie Wiesel, Night

"The wounded recognized the wounded."
– Nora Roberts, Rising Tides

Chapter 9: Faustian Burn

Major Wilhelm leaned against the holo-table in the Breach CP as the late night's cooled air wafted into the tent. The blue-tinted digital representation of his surroundings displayed the wreckage area, construction zones, defensive positions, and where the search teams were currently sweeping. Colonel Biko had been recalled to REGCOM on business, leaving him in charge of things, and with the recent instructions to report any findings to Major General Duff as securely as possible.

He would follow Biko's instructions without question, but the inspection had, thus far, yielded nothing, and the investigation was nearly completed. By the end of the day, they would likely have the last of the fragments from the peak of the arch finished, with nothing to show for it.

"Sir."

Wilhelm turned from his blank stare into the projected light toward one of the officers seated at the make-shift terminals.

"We're receiving a transmission from Hound 2."

From the display, he could see that Hound 2 was in the very peak of the Breach fragments.

"Patch them through, and link me to visuals," he ordered, slipping on a nearby headset.

The screen in front of him blipped to life as he took a position leaning over the officer's seat.

"Hound 2, this is CP, give me a sitrep, over."

Through the squad leader's head-mounted camera –switched to night vision– Wilhelm could see they were in a tilted corridor. They were in formation around a damaged, seemingly melted blast door.

"CP, this is Hound 2, we've identified an unknown object in the O-77 auxiliary ammunition store-room."

"Can you give me anything on it?"

"Metallic, rectangular, roughly a meter long, half a meter tall. It's severely scorched and partially melted, along with most of the surrounding area."

"Visual?"

"Standby."

Hound-leader crept over to the ruined blast door, and peaked over the cap into the room. The object was quickly distinguished due to the floor warping underneath it, and creating a sort of cup as the melted metal hardened once more to hold it in place. It was roughly the size Hound 2 had described, and too was partly melted down.

"We suspect it to be some sort of explosive device. Recommend EOD perform a further inspection."

"Agreed. Pull back to a safe distance, we'll get someone in there, ASAP."

"Acknowledged, out."

Wilhelm nodded to the officer, and the feed cut. He pulled the headset off, and ran a head through his hair. It seemed he was getting exactly what he'd wanted.

"Call for an EOD team. Pull back the other inspection teams, and tell the perimeter guards to make sure no one but authorized personnel get close."

Ruby hadn't known the people being burned to ashes in the funeral pyres –didn't even know their names until she'd asked– but she couldn't fight back the dread that this had been her fault.

Watching now as a procession carried the masks of the deceased Rangers, laid atop their folded coats, up to a distant hill –that, while laying above Site 5, was not yet part of the mountain range proper– she couldn't help but feel that had she never ended up in that facility, no one would have ever had to go there, they would have caught the breach sooner. That one instance had been the catalyst for every difficulty and tragedy that had occurred over the last few days.

Korva seemed to notice, and stood closer to her, sure to keep an arm over her shoulder, as if to reassure her it wasn't her fault. Maybe she was right, but the weeping families and lonesome children that bravely marched into the distance, carrying the wardrobes of their parents and spouses, would likely have different words for her.

She was supposed to be a hero; what good was she –what worth was she, if she couldn't save people?

"Where are they taking them?" asked Blake.

Her eyes were locked on the fading figures, even as the gathered attendees began to filter away from the pyre cinders. She and Yang had bags under their eyes from the previous night, but as they discovered, Huntresses were damn good at shaking off hang-overs.

"Shashka Hill," answered Malik.

"The final resting place of every Ranger along the Urals."

"Why save the coats and not the bodies?" asked Yang.

"The first Ranger was known by the name of Shashka," began Korva. "It is a Russian sword –a saber, which she carried into battle, earning her the name."

"The story goes that she died upon that hill, many years ago, when the Rangers were still young. She was the first to wear a coat, and emblemize it. When she died, her followers chose not to leave her remains at the mercy of wandering Grimm, and burned her body. To honor her, they retrieved her coat, and began wearing their own, beginning the tradition that all Rangers now follow. Hers, and the sword she wielded, still sits upon Shashka Hill, at its highest point, as a reminder that when we die, the coats will be our legacy."

Team RWBY was collectively silent, their eyes glossing over their companion's distinctive garbs –from Korva's worn down antique to Dmitry's newly torn coat, freshly adorned with the visage of a Widow on his right shoulder– in a new light. There was the dawning realization that the idea of the coats, the idea of it being blank being bad luck, and not being considered a real Ranger until it was marked, until it had a story to tell, had suddenly become clear to them. They weren't a method of self-expression –at least not only that.

They were gravestones.

The coats were symbolic of a Ranger's life. To have a blank coat was to be a phantom. You were nothing; no memories, no history, no stories. Nothing for anyone to remember you through. You may as well have never been alive.

There was a moment of creeping fear as they wondered how long it might be before the coats standing next to them were empty.

Miles away on the opposite side of the mountains, Colonel Biko pushed open the doors to Duff's office, a vanilla folder in hand. The General looked up from the work he'd been tending to, only for the folder to be slapped over the papers in front of him. He pushed aside his dwindling pile of condolence letters, anything be enthusiastic about interruptions. The previous night's crisis was the worst possible development at the worst possible time, and there had been little to be done to control the damage, leaving him sour.

The data that had been recovered from the 020 Installation had gone missing, or rather, as Duff concluded, had been stolen. All three separate copies were gone, and the team assigned to recover anything that they could admitted that whomever had done the deed had covered their tracks well, and that without some sort of physical source copy, there was little hope of retrieving anything.

One copy had been archived into the lab's servers, but that file had been deleted, and its data space that may have yielded some sort of recovery had been re-allocated, flooded with junk-files. The two other copies were held on the portable drive which Saber Team had used to recover the information in the first place, which was missing, and the other was a local file held on the desktop of the lead analyst. That desktop had been smashed to pieces, and its hard-drive was missing as well.

The prime suspect had been a 2nd Lieutenant attached to the investigation, who had been declared AWOL overnight. Military Police searched for him, while Russian national military forces beyond UNDF zones of jurisdiction were made aware of the situation, and local law-enforcement officers aided in the search within the city. He was eventually discovered by MPs outside the city limits, his stolen vehicle flipped over in a ditch on a back-road, and had apparently died on impact. The data storage devices were nowhere to be found. The point was, they were now nearly back to square one, with no obvious source of answers for what truly was happening, or how it had occurred.

And he was the one who got the privilege of informing Command on the sorry state of their investigation once the envoy arrived.

"Colonel, what–"

"We have something."

That was all Duff needed to flip the folder open. Within were a series of photographs, as well as a brief typed up report. He began by looking through the images, which were initially of a heavily damaged, melted metallic device, and then continued on to a strangely glittery substance which appeared to be smeared within the inner machinations, and along the side of the object. Most of the residue in question was red, but there were tiny orange blotches barely visible.

"What am I looking at?"

"Search team found it late last night," answered Biko. "EOD follow-up confirmed it to be an explosive device, but the make is an unknown –explosive agent is a mystery too."

"What's been done with it?"

"Nothing yet. Perimeter's secure, the only people who know about it are Wilhelm, the immediate staff, at the teams who discovered it. Other than that, it's been left alone."

Duff flipped through the images again.

"I'm hoping he didn't send them through standard channels."

"He was sure to be discrete."

"Good. You said the EOD team couldn't identify the explosive agent? Did they take a sample?"

"Negative. Whatever it is, it seems to still be reactive. It's part of the reason they've yet to move the device."

The General rubbed his chin.

"Still reactive…"

"You sound like you've figured something out."

"I think I have, but it's just a hunch; I need confirmation. Contact the Major, tell him to attempt collecting a sample following the guidelines I'll be sending to him shortly, and have it delivered here immediately. And thank you, Colonel, for bringing this to my attention, this might be just what we need. You're dismissed, and pass my thanks on to the Major. If you'll excuse me, I have people I need to reach."

"Where exactly are we going, Tasha?"

Korva glanced over her shoulder with nothing but a knowing grin.

"I just thought you would appreciate some fresh-air."

In truth, the Captain had noticed the heavy weight which was bearing down on young Ruby's shoulders. She was far too virtuous for her own good, and was packing the guilt of the entire week's events upon herself. It wasn't healthy, and more than that, it wasn't right. Korva believed staunchly that, despite the undeniable crisis that had resulted from the 020 Facility's destruction, Ruby and her team had only the best intentions, and that whatever had happened to bring them there, it was not of their own will or power.

Attempting to bear all the world's ills was admirable, but impossible, and self-destructive. Korva hated to see the poor girl's own good nature cause her suffering. For this reason, she had decided to bring Ruby top-side for something she had already suspected she might enjoy, and which Yang helpfully confirmed would raise her spirits.

Laid out at the shooting range, were a plethora of selected weapons which Korva had hand-picked for the girl to sample. She seemed to have an enthusiastic attitude toward the subject, given her own self-designed and elaborate weapon, and the rest of her team corroborated this conclusion. She hoped this would allow Ruby to enjoy herself after the dim mood of the earlier morning.

Upon their arrival, Ruby's eyes darted from firearm to firearm, taking each in individually.

"What is all this?"

"I thought perhaps we could have a bit of fun, and train at the same time. You've proven to be an adept sharpshooter, I thought giving a few Earth weapons a try might make for a memorable experience."

By the time Korva had finished her sentence, Ruby was already holding an anti-material sniper-rifle in her hands –which was curiously not a weapon Korva had selected, providing a mystery of how she had just come across it- her eyes gleaming excitedly.

"This one, this one first!"

Korva, not wanting to dash her enthusiasm, but also no wanting to catch a lecture from Zhukov, kindly took the likely unauthorized weapon out of her hands.

"Let's…perhaps start somewhere smaller."

Ruby pouted at not being able to use the big-guns, but was contented with the variety before her if nothing else. She supposed starting with her wheelhouse would be good, and so picked up a rifle that was clearly intended for long-range combat, due to the impressively sized scope. Its frame was crafted from bright, polished wood, with a metallic, bolt-action firing mechanism. Ruby was relieved to see that it was even designed for the left-handed, a convenience that she was grateful Korva had observed.

The Captain now held her own rifle in hand, and grabbed a few rounds that had been neatly placed next to it. Pulling back the breach, and after a precautionary check of the chamber and barrel, she began sliding the rounds into the magazine. Ruby mirrored the actions, until the five-round weapon was fully loaded.

A flip of a switch on a small panel nearby sent distant targets flinging upright, ready to receive fire. Due to the constraints of the base, its on-site firing range was not specifically ideal for long-range fire –it was wider than it was long, and a more attentively constructed range a few kilometers south was more suited for it– but as it was less serious training and more a chance to experiment and experience, it was of little consequence.

Ruby, proving her skill once again, struck her first shot center-mass. Korva's was just a hair below the neck.

"Good shot, I thought you might have a knack with these."

"I was aiming for the head," Ruby admitted. "I'm used to Crescent Rose's recoil, these don't have as much oomph."

She pulled back the breach and popped free her expended round, adjusting her aim for the second shot, and came closer to her goal, striking roughly the area of the chin.

"Excellent. I couldn't claim to have been so skilled at your age."

"I think you might still have me beat when it comes to experience," she replied shyly.

Korva smiled wryly at her.

"Are you insinuating I'm an old woman, Ruby?"

"W-what? No, that's not– oh, I get it. You're messing with me."

"I am," she admitted, firing her second shot into the right cheek of her target.

"Experience will come with time, Ruby. Life has a way of teaching you many things, even if not all its lessons are easy. For people like us, the hardest lesson to learn is that you can't…you can't save everyone."

"I know what you're trying to say, Tasha, but–"

"No 'buts'," she interjected, "I heard your story, and I believe it. You were doing your duty. You had no way of knowing any of this would happen; it is not your fault. Moreover, you jumped at the chance to help people you didn't know. I would hope I know at least enough about you to know that it was not guilt that fueled that decision."

She shook her head.

"You did all you could, Ruby. Far more than would be expected of a girl your age. That you mourn for those you have never met speaks volumes of your character, but shouldering this misplaced responsibility is not wise."

Ruby lowered her rifle, slacking in her grip. She stared into this distance, in thought, a begrudging expression on her face.

"Are you saying I should just forget about them?"

"Of course not. Forgetting and letting go are very different things, Ruby. One is a denial of the past, the other is an acceptance of it. People died; good people –brave people. Was it due to a consequence of your arrival here? Possibly, and maybe even likely, but you did not kill them, and you did not want them to die, and you did not choose to come here. Remember them –mourn them if you wish, but don't carry their memories as weights on your shoulders dragging you back to the past. You must keep moving forward, as the Rangers are fond of saying."

Ruby couldn't deny the wisdom in the words. She nodded to herself in silent agreement, thinking for the first time since waking up that she might have been wrong. The validation was soothing.

She also couldn't deny –In a momentary pang of sad remembrance– that Tasha was speaking from experience.

"Thanks," she said finally. "For looking out for me, I mean."

Korva smiled as she fired another shot.

"Think nothing of it, tovarich."

"Tova-what?"

"Tovarich. A Russian word. You are my comrade, my ally. You are my friend. Tovarich."

"Oh, sorry, I forgot. I never hear you speak it."

Korva shrugged with a hint of dejection.

"I rarely get the chance; only with Zhukov, on occasion. Thanks to the UNDF, English is steadily becoming the global lingua franca…that is, the common global language. There are already children more fluent in it than their native tongues."

She turned to look at Ruby, the melancholy instantly vanishing, replaced with a soft smile.

"I hope you don't mind that I slip a word in. Speaking clear English in the field is vital, so I try not…it's good to keep vocabularies separate, but I give in sometimes."

Ruby shook her head.

"I don't mind. After all, what's the point of getting stranded in an alternate universe if you don't learn anything, right?"

"Exactly."

The two of them stayed at the firing range for a good while, eventually moving on from the rifles to shotguns, then revolvers. The sun continued its slow crawl up from the horizon, getting close to mid-day, when one of the olive-garbed security staff approached them. The woman lifted her hat to the two of them, standing rigid with respect.

Korva nodded in return, gesturing for her to speak.

"Ranger Korva, Field Master Zhukov has requested yours and Ms. Weiss Schnee's presence in his office, ASAP."

"For what reason?"

"I wasn't told, only that it's urgent."

"Very well, thank you."

The guard nodded, turned about, and marched off. Korva sighed and looked to Ruby apologetically.

"Looks like we'll have to save the rest for another time. I'll escort you back to the elevator; find Weiss if you would, while I clear this up."

"Whatever you say, tovarich."

Malik hit the ground hard, prompting applause from the onlookers of team RWBY, sans the R, and Dmitry. Jay towered over him, soaking in the praise.

"This is barbaric," Weiss sighed.

Jay wiped the sweat from her brow as Malik rose to his feet.

"Hey, sometimes you gotta get your hands dirty, princess."

"That's not what I'm talking about. I'm referring to the little gambling operation that a certain member of my team seems to think I'm not noticing."

Yang put her hands up defensively.

"What? It's just between friends. Besides, we're just betting meals; thank you Jay, you just earned Blake and I all of Dmitry's steak at dinner for the next two days."

Jay responded with a salute to the girls as she chugged down some water. Malik plopped down on the bench next to his unfortunate teammate. Weiss looked disappointedly at Blake.

"You too?"

"The steak is good, okay? Sorry Dmitry."

He shrugged, defeated.

"Did you seriously bet on me?"

Dmitry nodded solemnly, mourning the loss of his steak. Malik pat him in on the back.

"I appreciate the confidence, buddy, but that was a terrible idea."

"Well here's another bet. You get in the ring, D, and I'll give you three days worth of my steak if you can beat me. You've gotta be more of a challenge than pipsqueak."

"Oh, har-har."

Dmitry was on his feet and in the ring, shedding his shirt and shoes, before Jay had even finished making her jab at Malik. She was taken aback at his enthusiasm for a moment, but grinned and hopped back to her starting position. Dmitry performed some preparatory stretches, Jay mirroring the action.

As the two milled around before their match, Yang leaned in on Weiss, resting her arm on the shorter girl's shoulder. Before she could even tell her teammate to get off of her, Yang emitted a low but unmistakable purr, quite sultry in tone.

"Almost forgot that was under there."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," she said knowingly.

"No, I'm afraid I don't. And get off my shoulder."

"Dmitry."

"What? What about him?"

"Look at him. He's always wearing his coat, and the fatigues are kinda baggy, so it's easy not to notice, but dang, he's got stuff going on under there."

"I fail to see why you're bringing this up," she grumbled.

She grumbled half because Yang's teasing consistently annoyed her, and half because now that it had been pointed out to her, she was looking probably more intently than she would have liked to admit.

It was nothing out of the ordinary, she reminded herself. Nothing remarkable. Physical fitness was a given in their line of work, Ranger or Hunter. Still, it was admirable in a way. Pleasing aesthetically, she could admit that much to herself, but it didn't really concern her; it was more evidence of discipline, perseverance, self-improvement, and dedication –things Weiss valued.

"It's just you seem to get along pretty well, for whatever reason, and you did go on that little date–"

"It was just a friendly outing," Weiss snapped.

"Right, well you can forgive me for assuming you might…you know…"

"I might what? Spit it out, Xiao Long."

"I'm just saying you seem like you might have a little crush, that's all. It's no big deal."

"That is absurd."

"Is it?"

"Yes!"

"Okay, okay," Yang placated, "but even if you did, like it said, it's no big deal. A crush is a crush is a crush, it's not like it's serious. It's a new world, we're all a little homesick, emotions are all over the place…"

"Yang."

"Alright, I'm done, I'm done."

"Fine."

"Anyway, two puddings says your boyfriend gets smashed."

"Yang," she growled.

"…bet accepted."

The first round did not go in Dmitry's favor. He got a few strikes in, but Jay's guard was tight, and they were deflected. In the end, he ended up thrown onto his back.

He shook his head, clearing away the daze, and retook his stance. Round two began, and this time Dmitry was more cautious. He probed Jay's defenses, playing the footsie game, trying to get her to make a mistake. There was a lot of quick-stepping backwards and forward.

Finally, Jay grew impatient and went for the offensive. This was what Dmitry had been waiting for, caught the punch, and pulled her gut into his knee. He delivered two strikes, but on the third, Jay anchored her foot behind his, and threw her weight forward, toppling them both.

Jay rolled, rose much faster, and moved to press her advantage, but Dmitry expected as much, and swept her legs from beneath her. Now the advantage was reversed, and Jay found herself in a headlock. She could feel Dmitry gearing up for a throw, and slammed her head back, striking him in the face. His grip didn't relent. She repeated. This time he stumbled back, and she scrambled for distance.

Some blood dribbled down from Dmitry's nostrils, which he dabbed with his fingers.

"Shit, clocked you good, huh? Wanna stop?"

Dmitry advanced, once more in a stance, providing his answer. Jay grinned, and threw another punch his way. The first he deflected, the second he ducked beneath, and the third he caught, creating an opening which he pressed, smacking Jay in the jaw with his elbow.

Debilitated, Dmitry hooked her leg, and threw her down, being sure to maintain control of her wrist and shoulder. As she impacted the floor, his knee came down on her throat.

"Hah! Fuckin slippery!" Jay laughed.

Blake politely applauded the match while Yang called out some friendly jeering at Dmitry's expense, and cheers of encouragement for Jay. Weiss responded in kind.

The two retook their positions for the final round, the both of them focusing on the match, though Dmitry appreciated Weiss' sudden vote of confidence.

The round ended as quickly as it began. Jay adopted an unexpectedly offensive tactic of running straight forward at full speed, and spearing Dmitry in the gut. It was such a brash, uncalculated maneuver, that by the time he though to counter it, he was already being lifted over Jay's head, and crashed back down on the mat, stunning him for a few seconds.

The round, and the match, went to Jay. She stood triumphant and flexing.

"I'm the queen! I'm the queen, and this ring is my kingdom! Who wants a piece of the Jay Jackson Juke n' Jive next?"

Yang snickered, and without hesitation ran into the ring, and effortlessly sacked Jay, threw her over her shoulders, and then lifted her above her head. Jay was so flabbergasted that she could only laugh.

"Holy shit, are you seeing this Malik?"

"I'm seeing it."

"Is this not the sickest shit?"

"Honestly the casual disregard for commonly accepted reality is losing its novelty, which is not something I ever saw myself saying."

Blake nodded.

"I can confirm that Yang throwing people over her shoulders get very old, very fast."

"Oh, shut up, you know you love it!"

Dmitry finally gathered the strength to push himself up from the floor, and sat upright. He snorted up all the blood pooling in his nose, and hocked up onto the concrete floor. He felt a slap upside the back of his head, and looked up to see Weiss, holding out a handkerchief.

"Good lord, don't be disgusting, Dmitry. Wipe yourself up, you're a mess."

He took the cloth without and wiped at his nose and upper lip.

"And don't even think about handing that back to me until you've cleaned it."

He nodded.

As he was blowing into it, she knelt down, and began running her fingers through the hair on the back of his head. He imagined if his head weren't pounding from the most recent blow, it might have felt nice.

"You don't seem to be bleeding anywhere else. Small miracles. How do you feel?"

He waggled his free hand, then pointed to his temple.

"Come on," she sighed, "let's get you to the infirmary, you glutton for punishment."

"Weeeeiss!"

Ruby came barreling into the gym, sliding to a stop just behind Weiss, panting from her rapid pace.

"What are you doing, Ruby?"

"I had to come find you, but you weren't in our room, so I figured you might be with Blake and Yang, but they were gone, so I figured I'd try to find Jay, but she–"

Weiss snapped her fingers, cutting Ruby off.

"Ruby, get to the point. What do you want?"

"The Captain's going to meet you at our room, she's supposed to take you up to Zhukov's office. I guess he called for you."

"What for?"

"Not sure, but it's important, whatever it is. They want you there as fast as possible."

Weiss sighed, but nodded.

"Fine, I'll head back in a minute."

"Alright, I'll be back at the room too, so I'll see you there."

Weiss looked to Dmitry apologetically as Ruby walked away. He looked warily into space where she had been standing a moment ago.

She could sense an aura of concern coming off him.

"I'm sure it's fine," she reassured him.

"Get Yang and Blake to take you to the infirmary, I'll be back before you know it."

Dmitry exhaled and nodded, a sliver of a smile on his face. He wasn't even sure why it worried him. Weiss let her gaze linger into her first step, grinned back, then walked after Ruby. Dmitry sat, nursing his nose, and listened to Weiss' echoing footsteps fade down the hallway.

The elevator ride up to the top of the administration building was hauntingly quiet. Weiss wasn't sure why she felt she was walking towards an execution, or judgement, but there was a foreboding air to her journey with the Captain. She too seemed unusually grim, which may have been part of why Weiss felt the chill up her spine about the whole affair. Korva obviously suspected something about their summons.

"I don't suppose you have any idea what this is about?"

"I can't say I do, unfortunately. Zhukov doesn't usually call for people up to his office; it's curious."

"Curious, or concerning?"

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. The waiting room was totally empty; even the secretary was absent from her regular station.

"The two have been going hand in hand lately."

Inside Zhukov's office, they found the man in question peering out one of the windows, the blinds drawn down, and permitting only small slivers of light through. He glanced over his shoulder as the door clicked closed, wordlessly gesturing for them to take seats at his desk.

"Thank you both for coming so quickly. I'm sure you're wondering what this is about."

"It came up," replied Korva.

"Well, I won't beat around the bush. Duff called me a short while ago, he kept things brief and vague, but if I'm interpreting things right, they've found something in the wreckage of the Breach. They have a theory, but they haven't conclusively identified what it is yet, which I assume is why they have requested your presence, Ms. Schnee."

Weiss gave him a puzzled look.

"What could I identify that one of their staff couldn't?"

"He wouldn't say, but he was insistent that you come to REGCOM. Captain Korva will be your escort for the trip. There's a transport on standby at helipad four, report there as soon as you leave here."

They both nodded, and stood from their seats, but Zhukov raised his hand, stopping them before they could step towards the door.

"One more thing. For the moment, this matter is on a need-to-know basis. You're not to inform either of your teams about this until, or unless, it becomes necessary. Understood?"

"Understood," they both echoed.

"Good. You have a flight to catch, ladies. Don't be late."

In the time intervening between the Major General being informed that a sample had been successfully contained and its arrival, a laboratory had been prepped, and put under proper guard. Colonel Biko kept watch personally from within to ensure the recently delivered sample remained untampered with.

Duff pressed into his earpiece as he stepped down the hall.

"Control, do you have anything?"

"Affirmative, General, we have an incoming Ranger transport, should be touching down any second."

"Have them escorted to the first-floor East labs."

"Understood, sir."

He walked to the end of the hall and nodded to the pair of guards flanking the door to the sealed lab. One turned to the control pad next to the threshold, and tapped a few buttons on a numerical pad. A hiss and pop came from some unseen locking mechanism, and the door slid open, allowing Duff passage. It slid closed again as he stepped through.

Biko, as well as two lab technicians stood rigid upon his entrance. He waved them off, signifying they could stand at ease.

"Sample's secure, sir, we've got everything set up. Is our "resident expert" on her way?"

"She's touching down now. They should be here any minute, then maybe we can finally get some answers."

"If you are right, what does it mean?"

"I'm not sure," Duff admitted. "We'll determine if the assumption's even correct first, then we'll proceed from there once Command's envoy arrives later today."

Biko nodded, turning his gaze towards the sample sitting in a small cylindrical container on the work-table next to the microscope. They stood in wait for another minute or so, while the lab techs finished last-minute prep-work. The familiar hiss and pop of the door gained both their attention, as Captain Korva and Weiss passed through into the lab.

"Captain, Ms. Schnee," greeted Biko.

Korva nodded to him.

"Colonel…General."

Duff looked directly to Weiss.

"Ms. Schnee, thank you for coming. We have a mystery on our hands that I believe you can solve for us regarding the breach."

"What kind of mystery?"

Duff motioned for her to approach the work-table. One of the lab techs handed her a pair of latex gloves, which she donned without question. The other unsealed the cylinder container, producing a petri dish filled with a red-orange substance which, even in the low light, managed to glimmer. It was placed beneath the microscope.

"We recovered this substance from one of the remaining fragments of the breach. We've yet to identify it, but I have a theory I'd like for you to help me confirm. I first need for you to tell me if you can determine what this sample is."

"I'm no chemist," she muttered, "but I'll help if I can."

Weiss sat down in front of the microscope, and pressed her eye to the lense. Korva watched as she turned the dials to properly focus in on the subject in the dish, and noticed the sharp intake of air as she finally brought them to a rest, and began sliding the dish from side to side. She lifted her head from the lense twice, but returned to look again, as if to ensure she wasn't seeing things.

"You said you found this in the breach?"

"We did. Can you tell us what it is?"

Weiss slid back and away from the microscope.

"There's no doubt that it's Dust. Fire-Dust to be exact, but it also seems to have Magma-Dust intermingled with it. That's a very dangerous combination."

"How?"

"Well, if improperly handled, Dust can be very dangerous, and if two different types go active in close proximity with one another, they can cause a variety of different reactions."

"And this mixture in particular?"

"Fire and Magma? It would result in just what you imagine it would; an explosion with a short but extremely intense temperature, enough to nearly disintegrate most…most commonly…used metals."

Weiss had a look of realization, and turned to look at the General.

"That's what caused the breach, isn't it. A Dust reaction."

"That was what we assumed, and this confirms our suspicions. We procured this sample from a damaged device found in one of the ammunition storerooms."

Duff nodded to Biko, who presented the same vanilla folder he'd delivered to the General's desk earlier in the day. Duff flipped through it, handing over the images of the anomalous machine.

"I don't suppose you've ever seen a device like this as well, have you?"

Weiss squinted at the photos, debating internally as to the manner of object she was looking at. For the second time, Weiss' breathing halted for a slip second.

"Yes."

"What is it, exactly?"

"I can't be absolutely certain, but from the looks of it…it's a scaled down version of an SDC Electromagnetic Granular Separator, but…no, this configuration is all wrong. The filters…the crystalline particles would be too large, and these conductors, it would all just…it's a collider. It's a Dust collider."

"Particle acceleration on that small of a scale?"

"Not on a sub-atomic level, no," Weiss clarified. "You have to understand, the process of turning Dust crystals into Dust powder was historically a very dangerous one. It was my grandfather, Faustus Schnee, who placed the Schnee Dust Company on the map by developing a revolutionary method of powder production using electromagnetism to tear crystals apart grain by grain –a Granular Separator. Originally these machines were so large, buildings had to be devoted specifically to house just a pair of them, but over the decades, they've been scaled down, and now there are dozens per facility, but this is smaller than I've ever seen."

"So whoever they were, we can assume that they brought this from Remnant," muttered Duff. "It's the only way to explain the Dust. Is it possible there's a traitor in your family's midst?"

"It's…Possible. Even ignoring the mystery of how something that, at the very least, based on SDC technology made it here to Earth, this design, the configuration, is top-secret. Not even many of our researchers have access to the complete schematics; the fact that not only was a scaled down version present, but it was modified extensively enough to weaponize, and allow even one to detonate, is chilling."

"So the breach, the 020 facility, Kotova, it was all a coordinated attack?" asked Korva.

"But why? Why would anyone from Remnant want to attack Earth? I'm still shocked that anyone from Remnant could even get here. The kind of technology that would require…the SDC is the cutting edge in nearly every frontier of science, and I can say with absolute certainty we have nothing close to that kind of technology."

"Regardless, you're here," Duff pointed out. "Which means someone does. It's possible that however you came here, our attackers used the same method. They may even be the ones responsible for your presence here."

"Which means, if we find them, we may find the answers we need to send you home," Korva concluded.

This single discovery allowed for many pieces of the puzzle to fall into place. There was finally some idea of what was going on, which only increased the mystery surrounding Command's flaccid response. Their envoy was still due to arrive in a few hours, and they would likely want a full briefing, if they weren't already aware of the series of attacks.

There was now only one variable that seemed an outlier. The continued mumblings of the incident in the south, the event which prompted the deployment of the envoy in the first place. Every recent event had so far been tied together, however loosely; the crisis to the south had to be involved as well. A missing piece which might allow for a full understanding of the mystery surrounding them, perhaps even allow some sort of offensive action against the perpetrators.

Duff had lost good men and women over the last few days. He was a man of justice, but he also wasn't above revenge.

"There's still more work to be done. Ms. Schnee, I'd like for you to remain here for a while longer. I want to attempt to move the device to a more secure location for you to examine it more–"

"Major General, this is Air Control, please respond."

Duff sighed, and pressed his finger to his ear-piece.

"One moment…this is Duff, go ahead."

"General, we have three incoming air-craft. Unscheduled."

"Are they signaling?"

"Their IFF's read UNDF. There's a signal transmitting, but it's just an automated sequence of authentication codes."

"Are they valid?"

"They're from a section of Command that ends with a brick wall a mile thick, but they're good."

It certainly sounded like the envoy that was due in, but it was much earlier than they were scheduled to arrive. The development was inconveniencing, and suspect. Why the early arrival?

"Divert them to the far West landing pads."

"Roger that, sir."

The General turned to Korva and Weiss.

"Change of plans, for now return to Site 5. I have an ill-timed guest to deal with. I'll be in touch. "

Korva nodded, then waved Weiss over. The two filed out of the lab, Duff and Biko following suit, and parting ways with them to opposite directions. Weiss glanced over her shoulder to where the General and Colonel had disappeared.

"What was that about?"

"It's complicated. We'll talk about it later."

"This all has something to do with Remnant. My family. Ruby and the others should know, Captain."

"And they will. Soon. For now, we follow our orders and keep this to ourselves."

"I don't like keeping secrets from my friends," she muttered.

"And you think I do?"

The subtly surprised expression on Weiss' face told her it had come out harsher than she had meant it.

"I'm sorry, that was unwarranted. I'm sure this was all a very shocking series of revelations for you, and that you're concerned for your family. I know you probably want to talk about it with someone, and if that's the case, you can always come to me in the meantime, but this is classified need-to-know, and unless Zhukov says otherwise, that does not include either of our teams."

"I understand. And thank you for the offer, Captain."

Korva was right about one thing, Weiss' family was a cause for concern.

Just likely not in the way the Captain assumed.

Major General Duff stood expectantly at the West-end helipads, Colonel Biko to his left, Agent Hamilton, who had invited himself, to his right. Command's envoy and their attaché were due to land any moment.

The roar of jet engines could be heard overhead, quickly approaching. Duff looked into the distance to spot what he identified as a pair of FA-90 Harpy gunships, escorting the much bulkier form of a Wyvern transport. Harpies were primarily small-capacity transports favored by Special Forces units for their extreme speed, versatile customizable armament, and maneuverability, capable of providing extensive fire-support at a moment's notice. They almost resembled fighters or interceptors in their sleekness, they were much more narrow in both height and width than the Chimera, and replaced the rotor struts common on most modern VTOLs with powerful side-mounted, vectored jet-engines and afterburners.

They were rarely used by regular Army and Marine forces due to their cost, and need for more frequent maintenance. The Chimera was slower and bulkier, but they could carry nearly three times the passengers, and almost never broke down.

The Wyvern which flew between them seemed to have been modified with similar propulsion, likely to keep pace with its faster cousins.

The Harpies remained in the air as the Wyvern descended, nearly deafening as the thrusters sent waves of heat all through the helipad. Mercifully, the crafted landed, and the engines cut. Duff could see, out of the rear-hatch doors of the Harpies, two figures each sat, rifles in hand, scanning the grounds. They really weren't taking a chance on security –It made the standard dozen guards stationed around the perimeter seem utterly lax.

There was a groan as the Wyvern's landing gear made contact with the landing pad. The rear hatch hissed open, revealing a whole procession of figures; a woman flanked by two armed guards led the file, while another dozen soldiers marched behind her.

They all, except the woman, who was adorned in an olive dress uniform with a Colonel's insignia, wore black BDUs and light combat vests, baklavas and tactical sunglasses entirely obscured their faces. Red berets sat atop their heads; they and the sunglasses were the only things in common with their Colonel. They screamed Special Forces, but Duff couldn't place the unit.

As she stopped in front of the General, she saluted, but it was an unenthused gesture, hollow of any respect or formality. It was not lost on Duff as he returned the salute dutifully.

"Welcome to the North Urals, Colonel…"

"Farroway," she answered, "And if it's all the same to you, General, I'd like to skip the formalities. We don't have much time."

"Time for what?"

"It's need-to-know, General, and frankly I can't speak on this at all until we get somewhere secure. Your office?"

Duff nodded, and led the group inside. Colonel Farroway's guards attempted to follow, but she dismissed them, sending them off to whatever work they had arrived to do. Colonel Biko fell in next to Duff, while Hamilton shuffled just barely ahead of Farroway.

The walk and elevator ride up was a tense and uncomfortable silence.

When they finally reached the office, Duff took a seat behind his desk, Biko standing close by. Hamilton took a neutral position on one of the couches against the wall. Farroway maintained a position opposite of Duff.

"Is this suitable?"

"It will do. I'm understandably caution, General; you seem to have already suffered a significant security breach. I wouldn't want any sensitive information leaked to unfriendly ears."

Duff swallowed hard.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Don't be coy, General. I'm already aware of the data recovered from the 020 facility, or rather, how you allowed it to be compromised, and likely destroyed."

Duff's eyes went to Hamilton. There was no need for it to be said out loud, there was only one way Farroway could have known about it so soon after it had happened. Someone on-site would have to have told her, and it was just like an OCI rat to be snooping in places they shouldn't.

"Luckily," she continued. "The ramifications in so far as our operation here, are minor. The only thing it would have told us that we don't already know, is how the wall sustained the damage it did."

"Then maybe you can enlighten me as to what has been killing my people?"

"As I said, it's need-to-know. I don't need you to understand the ins and outs of what's happening here, General, all I need is your cooperation. You are severely ill-equipped to handle the situation, and you lack the clearance to warrant an explanation, which is why I and my unit are here."

"Not good enough, Colonel."

Farroway smirked.

"Really? Pulling rank? I'm here under the direct authority of UNDCOM, the OCI, and the UN Security Council. You may outrank me, General, but don't delude yourself into thinking you have any sway over me or my men. If you choose to make things difficult, you'll only be harming your own subordinates, and the UNDF will suffer a potentially crippling security breach, and I don't need to tell you who will bear the brunt of that blame."

Not waiting or giving room for a response, she turned her attention to Colonel Biko.

"Now, Colonel."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I'm told your unit is standing guard at the breach. You're also still sorting through the wreckage, correct?"

Biko nodded.

"We're performing a thorough inspection. We were forced to wait 24 hours after the rad-sweep, and then had to move the debris so that reconstruction work could commence, otherwise we would already be finished."

"Have you found anything?"

"Nothing yet," he said, almost reflexively.

"Disappointing, but not surprising."

He glanced warily over to Duff as she turned away from him. His compliance, and his answer, seemed to satisfy her.

"In the meantime, General, your men will begin round-the-clock patrols of all major and minor roads outside Kotova city-limits. I would also like for you to pull two-thirds of the guards posted at the wall's E-2 cargo gate from their station, and transfer them to the patrol groups."

"What purpose would that possibly serve?"

The E-2 cargo gate was one of the rare openings in the wall –a retractable two-way gate occasionally used by the settlers in the Scar and the Rangers as a means of groundside traffic, typically for the transportation of supplies. It was a hundred kilometers south of the breach, no-where near any of the strange occurrences the region had been experiencing.

"You don't need to understand, General," she replied, impatience edging into her voice, "you just need to do it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to attend to my people. I would like all patrol reports sent to me for review. Hamilton, please continue your assigned duties. If there is nothing else?"

The men were silent.

"Very good. In that case, I would ask not to be disturbed."

Farroway glided out of the room quickly and quietly, as if she'd scarcely even been there. Hamilton stood up a moment later, and followed suit. Duff sat at his desk, Biko standing still at his side. As soon as the door slammed shut, the General massaged his forehead tiredly.

"Biko."

"Sir?"

"Be candid, what do you think of the Colonel?"

"First impression? If I had a hundred Grimm in front of me, I'd be more concerned having her behind me."

"Agreed. I don't like being in the dark, and I get the distinct impression there is a very dangerous game being played around us. My men are not toys, and they are not pieces on a board."

"She does have the Brass behind her, though," Biko pointed out. "What can we do?"

Duff sighed.

"We'll play her game for the immediate moment. I'll have the guardsmen transferred and start the patrols. In the meantime, we at least know Hamilton is feeding her information on our activity; I'll have him monitored. If we can keep him busy, or distracted, then we'll have a blind-spot to work with. You get in touch with Wilhelm –make sure the line is air-tight. I want that device locked down. No one is to see it without my expressed approval."

"Understood."

Duff was left alone after that, with nothing but a headache, silence, and the dwindling stack of condolence letters cluttering his desk.

Weiss had worried that upon her arrival, she would have to concoct some elaborate explanation for her absence from the base, but was relieved to find that her departure had been unnoticed. As it happened, Jay and Yang had a little too much fun in the gym, and Yang –she insisted Jay had bet her to do it- tied up all the punching bags in the supply closet and then suplexed them.

Either way, they were both still cleaning the gym by the time she'd returned.

Blake had disappeared off with Malik to take Dmitry to the infirmary, according to the two of them, and Weiss discovered a substantial amount of reading material in the lounge. The Faunus explained that Malik had helped initiate her in Earth literature, and that she had many of his recommendations, as well as some of her own selections. A variety of hard and paperback covers cluttered the table, including The Collected Tragedies of Shakespeare, Amaterasu to Zeus: An Anthology of Ancient Myths, The Romantics: The Complete Volumes, The Harry Potter 50th Anniversary Commemorative Collection, and a book called Kama Sutra, which she admitted she picked up mostly because of the cover. Somehow, that was unsurprising.

Ruby's whereabouts were a mystery. When Weiss questioned her, all she would reveal was that she had met a friend who appreciated Crescent Rose for the beautiful, unique girl that she was. As long as she was having fun, she supposed.

Now night had come again, and she sat in the cafeteria, a mug of coffee cooling in her hands. She'd been staring into it for a few minutes, mulling over everything she'd learned.

She wasn't sure what to make of it, but her family and their technology was involved, which chilled her to the bone at the possible implications. The time she nor her team could recall before waking up was surely involved as well. Something was horribly wrong, and she wanted now more than ever to understand. She had to know.

She had to know if Winter…if her father, especially her father…if they were…she didn't want to think it, but how could anyone have something like what she knew was sitting in that wall if at least one of them weren't–?

The sound of a chair being pulled out in front of her brought her gaze up.

Dmitry took a seat across from her, a bandage over the bridge of his nose, but otherwise fine. He gave her a pleasant wave hello.

"Dmitry, I wasn't expecting you."

He shrugged.

There was a ghost of a smile, but her mind was elsewhere. Dmitry slid his phone over to her.

'You look worried.'

"You could say that."

'Is something wrong?'

"I…can't talk about it. I want to, but…"

He nodded. It seemed enough for him.

"It's just…I think something very bad is happening. Here, and on Remnant, and I'm worried about my friends back home, and my family has me more worried."

'If they're like you, they'll be okay. We'll get you home.'

"I wish I was as optimistic about it."

They sat in silence for some time after that. A distantly ticking clock was the only indication that time was passing.

"Dmitry."

The Ranger perked up again at the mention of his name.

"Can I…can I confess something to you?"

He nodded slowly.

"I'm not really sure how else to say it, other than…I think…I hate my father. I'm not sure why I felt the need to tell you that, but it's been on my mind ever since I go…it's been on my mind lately. I can't even remember when I started to hate him, I don't know when it happened. Even when I was a little girl, he was distant, but as time went on, he got…we'll say he got worse."

She began swaying and swirling the mug in her hands as she spoke.

"I grew up with more money than I could even fathom. I never went hungry, I received the best education money could afford me, and I had a pedigree that would get my anything else I might have lacked. I thought, for a long time, that because of that, I shouldn't have felt lonely, or miserable, just because of my family –my father, or because of the people I lost. Yet I felt that way regardless."

She shook her head to herself.

"I must seem so full of myself, whining about all this to you."

Dmitry's reply wasn't immediate, but when it came, it was in the form of an outstretched hand. It grazed hers, turning it upright, and pressed something into it. It was a fabric, a cloth. He continued to press it into her palm gently.

She told herself she was gripping her handkerchief, but deep down she knew she was grasping for his hand, the loaned cloth a convenient excuse and frustrating barrier, silently hoping he would squeeze back.

The feeling of his fingers tightening against hers made her suddenly conscious of how cold her own hand had been moments before.

"Dmitry?"

His eyes met hers. She grinned for the first time since getting back.

"We can share my steak."

Happy Volume 3, everybody.