One of the perks of being an official military liaison officer was your own vehicle. The disadvantage was that since her hosts had provided it, it was almost certainly being tracked. Winter Schnee pulled to a stop at the customs checkpoint and climbed off of the motorcycle before being prompted. The officials were polite and efficient as they inspected the cargo containers on the vehicle. Of course, they found the disassembled firearm.

Instead of questioning her, the official merely quirked an eyebrow in her direction.

"I will be traveling between the kingdoms, captain," she dialed up her most efficient, peer-to-peer voice. "So I will want to be armed. Considering the tensions between our kingdoms, I determined it prudent to keep my weapon unusable until I left Mistral."

"Perhaps a wise precaution, captain," the official nodded. "You understand that I have to ask your destination and itinerary."

"I will travel to the independent town of Kuzey Kasabasi, on the northern coast." She told him. "There, under direct view of a Mistralian official, I will exchange correspondence and other communications with a courier from Atlas. I will then return to Mistral and continue my duties as a military liaison."

"Just as it says on the official notice," the customs officer noted, reviewing his scroll pad. "Pleasant journey, captain."

"And a good day to you, captain."

Moments later, Winter Schnee was on the bike, making good time to the east. She didn't want to admit it, but she loved the feel of the powerful engine under her control, the way that the vehicle responded to the slight shifts of her weight. Her face concealed behind the tinted face-mask, she allowed a smile onto her features, prompted by the feel of the wind and the forces of acceleration applied to her body. Knowing that she was certainly being watched, possibly even recorded, she slalomed just a little bit on the open road.

If anyone questioned her later, she would insist that she was merely testing the bike's responsiveness, in case she needed to perform radical maneuvers at a later time.

The kilometers flew by while the sun crawled across the sky. It was early evening when the northern sea, and the walls of Kuzey Kasabasi, came into view. While the port city wasn't officially part of the Kingdom of Mistral, the kingdom's investment and influence was obvious. This was the closest independent seaport to the capital and the Mistral Council was determined to keep it active, functioning and friendly. She answered some perfunctory questions at the gate before riding, at a much more sedate pace, to her favorite inn. Fortunately, there were rooms available. She checked in and looked to her appearance. Minutes later, Captain Winter Schnee, officer of the Atlesian Military, stepped out of the inn and made her way with crisp, decisive strides to the town hall.

Once there, she was quickly ushered to a meeting room where Lieutenant Bote, from the Atlesian Courier Corps, waited. The two did not exchange any words. They merely handed satchels to a Mistralian officer. After this officer examined the contents, he allowed them to be exchanged. The lieutenant offered her a salute, which she returned. Without changing her expression, she performed an about face and marched out of the meeting room, out of the town hall and back to her inn. She kept the satchel on her person as she enjoyed a meal in the inn's common room before retiring to her own room. Once there, she pulled off her uniform and carefully hung it in the closet. She pulled on a dark, form-fitting outfit before turning on the scroll-screen and tuning in to a news channel. For a few hours, she divided her time between reading her latest instructions and watching local news. When it was finally dark outside, Winter Schnee the spy stood up from the chair that Winter Schnee the military captain had sat upon.

Winter removed the disassembled firearm from her traveling bag and placed it, as well as some papers, into a dark bag that fit on a harness, secured to her back. She went into the bathroom and stuffed a towel into a pouch on her right thigh before forming a glyph in the air and springing upon it. From her vantage point, she accessed the exhaust fan. The said appliance in this particular room was mounted on a base plate larger than necessary, and one which could be detached from the ceiling. She set the fan to the side in the attic and climbed up into the space, clicking on a small but powerful flashlight. She returned the fan to it's proper location before stalking through the attic to a ventilation grille, which led to a lower roof, once there, she scrambled down a downspout and to the ground.

The inn was located just off the seashore, but well away from the busy docks. Winter trotted to the water's edge before turning and putting more distance between her and the docks. Soon, the seashore was illuminated only by the distant lights of the town. Satisfied, she first looked around to confirm she was alone, then directed her scroll towards the water and tapped a particular petition with a particular code. A green light showed on the screen in response. Looking into the ocean, she could barely make out the gentle surf breaking on a periscope.

With no hesitation, she yanked off her dark outfit and fitted the harness for the back pouch back on her body. Naked as the day she was born, she dove into the chill water and swam quickly out towards the periscope. While she was swimming, a small conning tower emerged and a hatch opened. A man wearing a dark outfit slipped out and hopped down onto a deck, just below the water. With no sign of embarrassment, Winter scrambled onto the submarine's deck and pulled the pouch off of her back.

"This has to go to General Ironwood, critical priority," she told the man. He merely nodded in response and handed her a replacement pouch.

"Do you have anything for me?" She asked, connecting the pouch to her harness.

"Only this," he told her, showing no interest in her nudity. "Your sister has completed her fist mission and is safely back in Atlas."

She offered a tight nod, a momentary look of relief on her face. Realizing that there was no further information or instructions forthcoming, she dove back into the water and swam back to shore. By the time she was back on land, the submarine had vanished. It would be back in Atlas within two weeks.

While the night was fairly warm, the water had been very cold, so Winter rushed to where she had left her clothing and pulled the towel out of the thigh pouch. She had just started to dry herself when she heard the sound of two people walking along the shore. A flashlight illuminated the shoreline as the duo searched the waterline. Winter quickly shifted her scroll and wallet to the back pouch before pulling her saber out of its sheath. By this time, the two strangers had spotted the trail of disturbed gravel she had made when she entered and exited the ocean. They quickly followed the trail towards her. Spotting her feet, they illuminated her with the light, then quickly lowered it.

"At least they're polite," she thought.

"Kuzey Kasabasi town watch!" A harsh voice introduced the newcomers. "Who are you and what are you doing on the shore at night?"

"My name is Captain Winter Schnee," she informed her questioner, in the most imperious voice she had. "I am the Atlesian military liaison to Mistral."

"And what is an Atlesian doing here?" The voice demanded.

The light rose again. She held her towel in front of her lower body, but she remained uncovered from the waist up. When the flashlight's illumination revealed this to the watchmen, it quickly lowered back to her knees.

"Official business between Atlas and Mistral," she coldly informed them. "The meeting took place in your town hall, witnessed by one of your own city officials."

"No!" The voice sounded a little flustered. The two had gotten close enough that she could see her questioners' faces in the reflected light. "What are you doing on the shore, after dark...naked?"

"I was not aware that Kuzey Kasabasi had a curfew or a dress code," she countered. She noted that the two men were fairly young, probably in their early twenties.

"We don't," one of them, possessing the voice that had done all of the talking, answered. "We've had reports of attempted smuggling."

"My carrying capacity is extremely small at the moment," she informed him. "So you need not worry that I am bringing contraband into your town." She used her saber to gesture towards herself.

Her questioner brought the light up again and, upon confirming that her carrying capacity was very limited, lowered it again. Winter had to consciously work to keep the smirk from her face. She was putting the young man through a very difficult time.

"Captain or not, I'm the one with authority here," he informed her. It was a true statement. "And your presence here is highly suspect."

"I enjoy swimming, guardsman," she informed the man. "And I find swimming in cold water to be quite invigorating."

The light played up her body again, all the way to her face. Clearly the guardsmen saw that her hair was soaked. She was also aware that her upper body was still reacting to the cold immersion...much to the interest and discomfort of the guardsmen. The light returned to her knees. The young men must have been going through hell...wanting to look at her but trying maintain some semblance of proper behavior.

"Why at nighttime?" The leader of the duo asked.

"I don't like being leered at," she informed him.

"And your weapon?" He prompted.

"I do not know whom, or what I may encounter," she retorted. "You said yourself that there are smugglers in the area. I don't like the idea of such men finding me vulnerable. I would rather have my blade and not need it, than need it and not have it."

"Please get dressed," he requested. "We'll need to photograph you and include the photo with our report. I'd rather not cause any more embarrassment than necessary."

While Winter kept her stern demeanor firmly in place, she complied with his request. She was, first and foremost, a military officer. As such, she had no intent to make life difficult for people who were simply doing their jobs.

Even if she was deceiving them.

After photographing her, they 'offered' to escort her back to her room. She complied, knowing that that the offer was really confirming that she had a room. She forced herself to look properly chagrined when the innkeeper informed her that there would be a fee for taking a room towel to the shore.

"My apologies," the leader offered her a slight bow. "But suspicious times call for a certain level of suspicion."

"I am a military officer," she informed him. "I fully understand the need for security. I wish the two of you a good night."

"And to yourself," another slight bow and the two guardsmen stalked off to continue their patrol.

Winter didn't know if she should hope they had quiet, uneventful duty for the rest of the night or if they would prefer finding more skinny-dippers. She did know that the two guardsmen had inadvertently supported her cover story for being out of her room. Whomever Mistral had assigned to observe her would have difficulty explaining how he failed to see her exit the inn. That was well worth the minimal fee for taking a room towel to the ocean.

Now in her room, she first confirmed that the bathroom's exhaust fan was seated perfectly in its proper space. After that, she rinsed off the salt water before preparing for bed. Winter Schnee the spy slept well, knowing that she had, once again, executed her duties flawlessly. The next morning, Winter Schnee, the liaison officer enjoyed the long ride back to Mistral. She deliberately entered via a gate other than the one that she exited, so that the previous customs official wouldn't ask questions about her missing firearm. After checking in at the embassy, she went to her office to carefully read the latest dispatches from Atlas.

Now was the waiting game; would the teens be able to track the firearms and other items outside of the kingdom? Would they be able to handle the primitive communications equipment when it came time to report? The hardest part of a surveillance operation was waiting for news, and it was hours before sunset.


Ruby had come to the conclusion that pants were horrible. These sturdy, canvas jeans, similar to what Jaune wore, were not like her comfortable, flexible pajama bottoms. These things were stiff and confining. She didn't have the full range of motion in her hips and knees that her combat dress and tights allowed and the legs swished against each other with every step. She also missed her hood, although she had to admit that Jaune's hoodie made a decent substitute.

"Tell me again why I had to make this major change to my wardrobe," she growled at Jaune.

"We've gone over it a dozen times," he rolled his eyes. "Your wardrobe is too well known. If Torchwick or Mercury spot you in pants and a hoodie, with the hood up, they might not recognize you. Besides, we've all made changes." He gestured to himself, where a rough, canvas overall covered his armor.

They had gone over it a dozen times. Ruby had even agreed when her teammates suggested it. It didn't mean she couldn't complain about it. There really wasn't much else to do at the moment.

"So why are the two of us up here while Ren and Nora go into the town?" She demanded.

"We've only gone over this a half-dozen times," he sighed. "Torchwick, Mercury, Emerald and Cinder are very familiar with you. Cinder probably remembers me. Ren and Nora are about the closest thing we have to someone they don't know all that well." He glared at her. "Once you were out for going into town and trying to detect the bugs, I was as well. Ren and Nora go nowhere without each other."

Ruby grumbled and returned her eye to Crescent Rose's scope. Here, on the inland lake's marshy, eastern shore, high, dry ground like they now occupied was rare. Two kilometers away, a larger piece of high ground held a village. Yesterday, while traveling the single-lane trail, they had detected the bugs in this village. Since then, no wagons or carts large enough to carry the heavy crates had left the settlement...at least none that the team had noticed. Ren and Nora had left two hours ago to confirm that the crates were still in the teamster's barn, as well as pick up some supplies and hopefully, news.

Through the scope, Ruby had watched her friends walk into the village, past the barn, and to the village's combination general store and tavern. Since then, the only visible activity had been the local fishermen returning to the docks, with small boats fully loaded with fish, clams or crabs.

"So what do we do if they haul the crates off by boat?" Ruby suddenly asked.

"What?" Jaune asked.

"We've been so sure they'll move things by carts, what if they bring in boats to take them...wherever they're taking them to?"

This question caught Jaune by surprise. Ruby felt a sense of satisfaction that she had brought up something that nobody else had thought of...even if she hadn't thought about it until that moment, herself.

"Could one of these fishing boats carry those heavy crates?" Jaune asked her.

"How would I know?" She demanded.

"You're the one who lives on an island!" He snapped in return.

"So I'm an expert on boats?" She snarled back.

"You should..." he caught himself before continuing the argument. Although he didn't say anything, Ruby was chagrined, herself.

"We shouldn't be taking the frustration out on each other," she murmured, her way of apologizing.

"Yeah," he agreed, in a quiet tone. He rubbed his chin, clearly thinking of something.

"Okay," he finally decided. "You made a very good point. We noticed that the water level gets very low during low tide, so if they move the goods by boat, it's going to be at high tide."

Ruby nodded, it made sense to her.

"The village only has small boats and the crates are heavy, so if Torchwick takes the goods away by boat, it's either going to take a lot of them, or it's going to take a long time."

Ruby nodded again.

"One last thought," he continued. "The boats around here are made to handle the marshes but I don't think that they'd handle the open lake very well. If the stuff goes by boat, it's either going to be a long trip through the swamps, or they're going to take them out to open water and put them on a ship."

"So what do we do if that happens?" Ruby asked. This time, her tone was questioning rather than demanding.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Yet. You've given us something to think about."

Ruby suddenly felt honest satisfaction for bringing up her doubt. She returned her eye to her scope, feeling much better. Soon, that eye flew wide.

"Torchwick just came out of the barn and is heading towards the docks" she told her companion.

"Any sign of Mercury or Meow?" He asked.

"Neo," she corrected. "And no, I don't see either one."

Ruby continued to observe the orange-haired man as he spoke to a small crowd of the local fisherman, gesturing with his arms before lighting a cigar. The fishermen wound up with looks of both amusement and irritation, eventually nodding to the crook. Ruby could well understand their plight, Torchwick's strange combination of condescension, self-depreciation and logic could be hard to argue with, even when it irritated you.

"It looks like the caravan is showing up...pretty close to right on time."

Jaune's report nearly caused Ruby to take her eye off of the scope, but she kept at her station. The trail leading to this village was a winding, single lane, slightly higher than the water level. According to the few locals they had spoken to, a train of mule-drawn wagons came down from the north late every morning and dropped off goods at the teamsters' barn. It would then pick up the village's produce, pack it in ice crystals, and haul it back to the north. The trail wasn't far from their current location, so Jaune could keep a close enough eye on the wagons. Instead of looking at the trail, Ruby swept the village again.

"Torchwick seems to be done talking to the fishermen," she reported. "He's heading back towards the barn."

"There's a shorter person with the caravan," Jaune told her. "Whoever it is, they're wearing a hood, baggy clothes and their hips are really swaying when they walk."

Ruby immediately turned the scope on the caravan. It only took seconds to spot the person Jaune was talking about. She had the same suspicions that her friend had, which were only reinforced when the caravan reached the village and the person of interest walked immediately to Torchwick. The orange-haired man got a resigned, irritated look on his face before offering an overly grand, mocking bow. The subject's hands went immediately to her hips...Ruby knew she was observing Emerald.

The two criminals walked towards the barn while Torchwick waved his arms. Ruby could almost hear his voice bragging about how he had everything under control...which maddened her, since he usually did. As they approached the building, Mercury emerged. Emerald pulled back her hood, which allowed Ruby to remove the last bits of doubt about who they were watching. She reported the confirmation to Jaune.

"I hope Nora and Ren will be okay," he grumbled.

Ruby agreed with him, but kept her eye on the trio. Emerald appeared to question Mercury, who's answers included gestures at the barn, the trail and the dock. The girl then gave Roman a hard look, which he returned with an impudent expression, lighting his cigar again. Emerald then stormed into the barn. Torchwick and Mercury shared a shrug before following her. After a few minutes, Ren and Nora, also wearing disguises, emerged from the pub and joined the crowd in the village square. There, the local teamsters' representative was standing by the town's scales as the fishermen cued up to weigh their catch.

Lien were exchanged for the swamp's bounty, teamsters guided their wagons through the square to pick up the goods, and Nora spoke to both teamster and fisherman while Ren kept an eye on the teamsters' barn. When roughly three quarters of the catch was weighed, paid for and loaded, the two hunters exited the town. Ruby kept a close eye on the barn, but none of the crooks emerged and there was no sign that anyone took note of Ren and Nora leaving.

It took their friends over an hour to reach them, as they used a roundabout way to get to their lookout position. All the while, Ruby and Jaune took turns observing the village through Crescent Rose's scope. At one point, Torchwick and Mercury emerged from the barn and spoke to fishermen again. When the caravan finished loading and left, Emerald didn't go with them. Shortly after the wagons disappeared to the north, Team RNJR reassembled.

"Torchwick is hiring fishing boats," Nora reported, when they were together again. "He offered the fishermen a little over twice the lien they would earn for a day's catch, in order to take bundles of hardware, no questions asked, to a location to the southwest."

The team quickly looked over their maps, even though they knew that not every village was shown.

"A major trade trade route approaches the swamps about thirty five kilometers in that direction," Ruby pointed out.

"He said that they'd be gone for two days," Nora added. "One day out, one day back, and he'd see to it that they were fed and put up for the night."

"The local teamsters' representative wasn't happy," Ren continued. "He complained that they wouldn't have cargo to carry if the fishermen were making deliveries instead of fishing. After this, Torchwick offered to compensate him, as long as he carried a couple of heavy loads to the north. We didn't learn where they were going, but the teamsters were to deliver them to a village about forty kilometers from here."

That brought on another close examination of the map.

"There's another village at about that point," Nora's finger stabbed down onto the illustration. "It's supposed to be bigger than this one."

"When are the fishermen supposed to haul off the hardware?" Jaune asked.

"Tomorrow morning," Nora told him. "Torchwick wanted it done tonight, but they don't like the idea of traveling the swamps after dark."

"The teamsters agree," Ren added. "They say that the swamps are full of lithobates, a kind of giant frog grimm. They're supposed to be scared of light and heat, but will come out and attack at night or on overcast days."

"We've been fine here," Ruby pointed out. "And there isn't much cover on this little piece of ground."

"We also haven't been making a commotion," Ren countered. "And we may have been fortunate. I'd suggest that we trust the locals' judgment."

"So now we have a decision to make," Jaune pointed out. "Do we try to follow the hardware on the boats or do we try to follow the heavy loads to the north?"

The other three looked at each other, debating what to do.

"I say we follow the heavy loads," Jaune told them. "If I'm right, Torchwick is going to have the guns taken by boat...each crate of guns can be opened up and divided across several boats. They're better than the guns we've dealt with before, but they're still just guns. I think Torchwick is going to take the other things, those big cylinders with the funny symbols on them, on the carts. We don't know what they are, so that's what we need to track."

The other three remained quiet for a couple of minutes, each thinking.

"We are capable of tracking the wagons," Ren pointed out. "Once the boats get into the waterways, it will be very difficult for us to follow them and remain unseen."

"We don't have to follow the carts," Nora informed her friends. "Teamsters like to talk to pretty girls, and this trail runs to the north, with no branches or other way off of it, all the way to the next village. Tomorrow morning we can get on the trail, pass by the caravan as it comes this way, and be waiting for it when it arrives at that village. By then, we might have an idea about where it's going to go next."

"It would look much less conspicuous than if we were to follow the caravan," Ren pointed out.

"I think we have our plan," Jaune agreed, "But we have to report this to Winter."

The others nodded and pulled the equipment that Winter had given them out of their packs. There was a coil of wire, a small box that contained lightning crystals, and some interconnection cables. Ren took Jaune's place on watch, while the blonde composed a message on his scroll. After that, they had to extend the wire, horizontally, to its full extent. It was too long to extend on their high ground, so after some prodding, Jaune, being the tallest of the party, stripped down to his briefs. Nora provided some applause, along with some less than polite comments, as the blonde man waded through the murky water to a handy tree. He used a rope and a connector to attache the wire, so that it extended straight and reasonably level over the water. Ruby giggled as he returned to their camp.

The giggling and bawdy comments died when Jaune, an ashen expression on his face, lumbered out of the water to reveal the leaches on his legs.

Instead, everyone pointedly looked the other way while he borrowed a dagger from Ren and scraped the loathsome things from his flesh. They continued to look away while he put on dry undergarments and got dressed again. Finally, they gathered together and looked at the device that was supposed to communicate with Winter.

"She said that she had an automated receiving system," Nora pointed out. "And that we could transmit at any time."

"She also said that communicating would be best after dark," Ren countered. "Something about the atmosphere. That's why she can only guarantee that she'll be monitoring a half hour before, and after, sundown."

"We wait," Jaune told them. "There's no sense in draining the crystals when nobody's listening. She might need to tell us to do something about this."

The remainder agreed and set about making a decent meal. There could be several days upcoming with no hot food available, so they wanted to make this meal worth remembering. Fortunately, shrimp, clams and crabs were inexpensive in the village and Ren and Nora had brought back a substantial amount, so they had a feast. As the sun met the western horizon, Jaune connected the wire and his scroll to the device and activated the proper petition. A red indicator blinked on his scroll a couple of times, letting him know that it was trying to make contact with Winter's receiver. Then, the light changed to green. Contact had been made and his message was sent.


Sometimes, lower technology was the answer. This was a hard truth for a member of the Altesian Military, and a Schnee, to accept. However, with the CCT system down, old-fashioned, short-wave radio had to do for anything beyond line-of-sight. Captain Schnee tried to keep her attention on the dispatches, both official and covert, that she had received from home. In the back of her mind, she listened for the automated monitoring system to let her know it was receiving a transmission. The silence was maddening.

Had she sent a group of teens off to their deaths?

While her face didn't show it, her heart nearly leapt from her chest when her scroll buzzed a particular tone, letting her know that this particular team was reporting in. She kept he composure, getting up from her office in the embassy and making her way with an unhurried, yet brisk pace, to her personal quarters. Once there, she read the message that her automated systems had already decoded:

Subject one and three have been at location 4A for the last two days. Subject four joined them yesterday. Have not observed subject two. Subject one is hiring boats to carry items to the south and wagons to carry items to the north. Suspect that he is sending contraband items one via boat and contraband items two via cart. Will attempt to track items carried by cart.

A frown found its way onto her face. She had not anticipated that Torchwick would divide his cargo. After a few minutes' thought, she realized that the team had made the correct decision; attempting to follow the contraband via boat would be too obvious. She typed her reply into her scroll then activated the proper petition to code it and send it.

In the embassy attic, a length of exposed wire, which just happened to be the correct length to support transmissions of the wavelength she was using, started to radiate.


In the swamps to the west of Mistral, Team RNJR was finishing their meal when a rapid green blink showed up on Jaune's scroll. Moments later, they had a message to read:

Concur with your decision. Keep me appraised on any developments.

The four teens looked at each other, knowing they would be on the move in the morning. Jaune disassembled the transceiver then, with a heavy sigh, started to disrobe again.

"I can recover the cable," Ren offered.

"If the leaches gave me any diseases, I already have them," Jaune answered. "There's no sense in two of us getting sick."

"We could wait until morning," Ruby suggested. "It will be a lot less creepy doing this in the light."

"But what if the wagons come early tomorrow?" Jaune countered. "What if something else happens? We have to take care of this now...just in case we have to move quickly." Now clad only in his briefs, he forced himself back into the muddy water.

As the last light faded from the sky the blonde returned to their dry patch, again with leaches on his body. The rest of the team turned their backs while he borrowed Ren's dagger again, and scraped the horrid things from his flesh. Staring out at the swamp, creeped out by the occasional sounds of disgust her friend was making, Ruby saw two yellowish glimmers of reflected firelight. For a moment, she watched them, curious, until she realized that they were getting closer. Soon, some more reflections appeared.

"Grimm!" She hissed, scrambling to unfold Crescent Rose.

She provided just enough warning for her teammates to to be startled. A grimm, which looked like a giant frog, hopped out of the dark water and opened its mouth. A large, slimy tongue burst out of its mouth and stuck to Jaune's left arm. The nearly naked young man dug his feet into the ground, so he wasn't pulled off of his feet, yet the lithobate, pulled by its own tongue, managed to leap upon him and engulf the arm. Jaune snarled in pain and surprise, but put his borrowed dagger to good use, stabbing the creature in the eye. Ruby was suddenly distracted by another tongue, hitting her on the leg.

Ruby wasn't as large as Jaune, so the grim managed to pull her feet out from under her. Before she could bring Crescent Rose to bear, one leg had gone into the grimm's mouth up to her knee. Jaws, thankfully lacking teeth, clamped onto her with frightening force. Before she could attempt a slash, Nora was there. Her friend angled her strike carefully, crushing the grimm's head without hitting Ruby's leg. Another tongue emerged from the water, affixing to Nora's right forearm. The girl, the strongest of the four, gave an evil chuckle, dug in her feet and used the tongue to swing the grimm over her head to slam into the ground with enough force that Ruby felt it through her feet.

"Aw, it croaked!" Nora whined. Then she was spinning to deal with another one.

Ruby flinched at the bad pun, but scanned for her next opponent. The grimm seemed to be concentrating on Jaune. The blonde boy was still clad only in his briefs, but had recovered his sword and shield. He blocked a tongue with the shield while impaling a leaping grim with his sword. Ruby rushed forward and severed the tongue stuck to his shield. The maimed lithobate still leaped forward and Ruby delivered an overhand slash that split it from chin to crotch.

Behind her, another grimm launched its tongue at Jaune, only to have Ren intercept it with his left blade, slice off the appendage with his right blade, then tear into it with both. Two more attacked the blonde, only for one to be met with the point of his blade and the other to catch his knee under its chin. It staggered back to meet Nora's hammer. Then, there was suddenly calm.

Jaune scrambled to get his clothing back on.

"Why were they after Jaune?" Nora asked. "Do they like blondes or naked people?"

Ruby giggled a little.

"It was probably the leaches," Ren informed her. "He was disgusted by them, and the grimm are attracted to negative emotions."

"So what do we do?" Ruby asked.

"We remain calm," he shrugged. "Now that we have fought off this group, if we control our emotions, we should have no more problems than we did last night. Let's build up the fire some more and be cheerful. Perhaps we could find some other way to generate positive feelings."

"Jaune could take his pants off again," Nora suggested.

"What!?" The whites of Jaune's eyes were clearly visible. Ruby snickered into her hand while Ren did his best to conceal a smile.

"I'm serious," Nora continued. "That armor weighs what, fifteen, twenty kilos? And he's worn it across two continents now. It's done wonders for his buns and thighs."

"Nora!" Jaune protested.

"Look, I don't mind if you strip down again, and I'm pretty sure it will help Ruby's attitude, as well." She assured her friend. "Won't it, Ruby?"

"I...er...I...well..." Ruby now looked every bit a flustered as Jaune.

"Maybe we should get you an outfit that has tights or shorts, instead of pants," Nora continued. "I'm not above fluttering my eyelashes to make the teamsters and village boys more talkative," she demonstrated the gesture. "So maybe showing off your haunches will make the village girls a little more chatty."

"What?" Jaune clearly didn't believe this conversation was taking place. Ren was now unable to conceal his smile while Ruby had her hand over her mouth, trying to hold in the guffaws.

"Oh, you don't want to charm the village girls?" Nora asked. "Okay, you can try for the village boys. It's your choice."

"Nora!?"

"Neither boys or girls?" Nora shrugged. "Okay, you can see what village livestock thinks, I don't judge."

"NORA!"

Ruby was unable to keep upright. The look on Jaune's face had her laughing harder that the first time she saw Pumpkin Pete on his hoodie. She fell to the ground, her feet waving weakly in the air.

Grimm are attracted to negative emotions, and Jaune's emotion wasn't very positive at the moment. However, any dark thoughts he was thinking were overcome by the humor the other three experienced.

No more grimm approached their camp that night.


"So what have you accomplished?" As always, there weren't enough hours in the day for General Ironwood to see to everything that the defense of Atlas, and the teaching of the Academy's students, required. He was running on willpower and coffee but he took the time to check on the latest research project.

"We've made only minor progress," Dr. Physiker informed him. "But we've made some major, unrelated breakthroughs."

"What progress have you made?" The general prompted.

"We believe...and I stress believe...that we have determined how the device opens portals through realities." The doctor told him. "It validates string theory."

"Give me a layman's description," Ironwood ordered.

"Very well," the doctor nodded. "The theory is that all matter, down to subatomic particles, is composed of strings of proto-matter. This proto-matter vibrates and the vibrations dictate the reality...or phase...in which the matter exists. So far, it appears that the Pan Dimensional Vortex Inducer acts to create a re-calibration zone, in which it changes the vibrations of proto-matter entering from one reality to the vibrations of another."

"And you've confirmed this theory?"

"We've managed to create very small holes to other realities," the woman stated. "But not, I believe, to Mr. Stoppable's. The frequencies and sub-harmonics involved make the number of possible alternate realities beyond infinite. In fact, our concept of the nature of infinity may have been too small."

"So there's no hope of sending him back?"

"We originally thought we could make use of his Mystical Monkey Power," by now, Dr. Physiker had called up a file on her scroll and was perusing it while updating the general. "However, it appears that this power originates from yet another reality. This power manifests through Mr. Stoppable. The reality in question seems to consists of only energy, without any matter. Even if we could open a portal large enough for him to pass through, he would not be able to survive in such a universe."

"So there is no hope of sending him back." General Ironwood concluded.

"Not necessarily," the physicist countered. "We need to be able to monitor some form of interaction between Mr. Stoppable and his original reality. One of the stories he has told us is of an object he calls the Lotus Blade. It is apparently connected somehow to the Mystical Monkey Power, which we have learned is capable of interacting with Mr. Stoppable in this reality. Apparently, Mr. Stoppable can both call this weapon to him and cause it to change form."

"So you're going to have him try to summon the blade, while you monitor," Ironwood nodded.

"Oh no!" Physiker corrected him. "If he does that, we will lose the only toehold we have in his universe. No, we will have him attempt to change its form. Since it's an interactive process, we should be able to detect the...fingerprint vibrations...from his universe via the energies it sends back to him...the feedback, if you will. We are almost ready for the first observation. Of course, this will be an initial test. We will be using a very broad band receiver. Should we be successful, we will need to re-calibrate our test equipment to a more narrow field, so that we can pick up sub-harmonics. It will certainly take multiple observations to get the proper fix on his universe...assuming that this works."

"When will you make the first observation?" The general asked.

"It will take place in thirty minutes," the doctor informed her guest and patron. "You are, of course, welcome to observe."

"I think I will," Ironwood nodded. "In the meantime, perhaps you can describe, in generalities of course, the major breakthroughs that you've made."

"Indeed," the physicist smiled. She led the general deeper into the laboratory complex. "I won't get into the social structure of his culture, but the young man was attending an educational institution similar to one of our academies. He was seeking to become what he calls a physical therapist, or someone who helps another rehabilitate from wounds or injuries. One of the courses a first year student must take is basic chemistry."

"I find it difficult to believe that a Remnant-famous physicist would find a basic chemistry class enlightening," Ironwood confessed.

"It turns out that the scientists in his reality catalog and organize the elements slightly differently than we do," the physicist smiled back. "On his...Kimmunicator...he had a copy of what they call the Periodic Table of the Elements. It is similar, but not identical, to our own Elemental Catalog. Those differences have pushed our own understanding...substantially."

Now, the scientist's smile faded. "They have identified and quantified elements that simply do not exist on Remnant, probably not in our universe. The heaviest and most complex atoms in his reality are absent from ours."

"Interesting," Ironwood conceded. "But hardly a breakthrough."

"Unless you take two additional items into account," Physiker countered him. "The first is theoretical. I believe that energy eventually merges with existing matter, altering it to some extent. This is why there are elements in his universe that don't exist in ours."

The physicist took an excited, shuddering breath, "I believe that his universe is considerably older than ours. Certain energies, such as dust and aura, are not present in his universe, while what we call magic is much more rare. I postulate that this is because these energies have already been absorbed into matter, altering the matter into forms that are not present in ours."

"I won't challenge you to go into details," the general shrugged his shoulders. "But what is the second item?"

"We know that a criminal with a very high degree of scientific capability in his universe...this Professor Dementor...was trading with a villain of some sort on this planet." The doctor pointed out. "And this makes me question the very nature as to how matter, energy and humanity interact on their world as opposed to ours. Here on Remnant, we have easy access to energy, in the form of dust. Because of this, much of our technology is more advanced than his, since we have only had to learn to harness energy, not make it available in the first place."

"On the other hand, the people on his world have had to obtain energy from matter or, more precisely, the interaction of matter. This means that although they have more difficulty producing energy, they are capable of producing more of it when they manage. Ron has already told of bullets that fly faster than the speed of sound. This is beyond the experience of most soldiers and hunters on our planet, and this is a very common example of the technology on his world. What else did this rogue scientist send to our universe? Our protectors; our hunters, police and soldiers, may be as out of their depth when facing an example of Earth weaponry as their protectors would be when facing ours."

A buzz from the general's scroll interrupted the conversation. General Ironwood looked at his device and noted that a high alert symbol was present.

"Ironwood," he spoke into the device.

"General, this is Major Wachsam of the Intelligence Division. We have just received unofficial correspondence from Captain Schnee."

"I am in the research center for Project Unreal," the general told his subordinate. "Send the materials to me by automated courier."

"Yes sir,"

"You were saying, doctor?" He prompted his host.

"I was finished," the physicist informed him. "We are now ready to observe the data collection. Here comes Mr. Stoppable now."

Through the thick safety glass, General Ironwood saw an engineer usher the subject into a research pod, very similar to the ones they had used to attempt to channel the Fall Maiden's power from Amber to Pyrrha Nikos. Once the subject was seated, Dr. Physiker addressed him via a microphone.

"Ah, Mr. Stoppable, just to make sure that you know exactly what to do, could you please tell me your instructions before we proceed?" Dr. Phsiker spoke over a microphone.

"You want me to change the Lotus Blade's form," he answered. "Without calling it to me."

"Indeed," Physiker nodded. "Keep in mind that this weapon is your only link to your own universe. Should you successfully call it here, we will probably be unable to ever open a portal to your home reality."

Ron looked suitably nervous.

"Very well, I will be in communication with you as you undergo the procedure. Let me know immediately if you feel discomfort, pain or fatigue."

"Yes, doctor," Ron assured him, as the door swung shut, sealing him in the pod.

"The young man didn't tell me he was experiencing such symptoms during one of our earlier procedures," Doctor Physiker answered General Ironwood's questioning expression, the microphone turned off. "He emerged barely able to stand. He apparently wants to go home very badly. It's sad really, as...oh, we're ready." She activated her microphone, "go ahead, Mr. Stoppable, proceed."

James Ironwood, the Headmaster of Atlas Academy and therefore, nominally responsible for Mr. Stoppable's well-being, watched closely as a sense of concentration fell over Ron's face. Soon after this, his skin took on a bluish tint.

"Ah, he seems to be utilizing the Mystical Monkey Power in order to influence the weapon," Dr. Physiker commented. The microphone was off again. "We can filter such influence out of our readings." She turned on her microphone. "Speak to me, Mr. Stoppable, what are you experiencing?"

"It takes more work than it does when the blade is in my hand," Ron's voice sounded over a speaker. "It's sort of like telling my little sister, from a distance, to put away her toys. I have to repeat the commands over and over."

"An excellent analogy," the doctor told him. "Younger sisters can be most trying! You are sensing the weapon responding, no?"

"It's very faint," Ron confessed. "I think I can feel it, but it could just be my imagination."

"Continue," Physiker ordered, her eyes widening on a monitor. "Our instruments are picking up a power as we speak. We will attempt to isolate its attributes as much as possible."

"Ron, this is General Ironwood," James now addressed the microphone, having noted sweat beading on the young man's forehead. "I would like to repeat the good doctor's instructions; let her know if you experience pain or exhaustion."

"It's tiring," Ron admitted. "But I'll let everyone know if it gets as tiring as a good workout."

"That's reasonable," the headmaster nodded, even though Ron couldn't observe this gesture of approval.

"Mr. Stoppable," Dr. Physiker now addressed the subject. "We are getting short bursts of energy from what I believe is your reality. However, we will proceed faster if we can lengthen the bursts. Is there forms that the weapon can assume, but might take longer to achieve?"

"I could try to change it to a new form," Ron shrugged. "But what..." suddenly, the young man got a satisfied smile on his face. "I'm trying something new."

"It seems to be working," the physicist noted, looking at her monitor screen with a look of excitement. Headmaster Ironwood, observing the increasing strain on Ron's face, seemed less enthusiastic.

After several minutes of this, during which Ron started to gasp for breath and sweat started to pour out of him, James Ironwood opened his mouth to call a halt. He was interrupted by Dr. Physiker.

"That is sufficient, Mr. Stoppable," she told the man. "We have reached the limits to what we can analyze at this time. We must now re-calibrate our instruments, to focus more specifically upon your universe's unique fingerprint."

"How long will that take?" Ron asked, gasping for breath.

"It may take us a couple of weeks to prepare this chamber," the doctor admitted. "And even then, it won't be the last re-configuration. I am opening the pod at this time. When I do, please meet me in the debriefing room. I think a modicum of comfort is in order when discussing our next move."

"I'd like to be present," James Ironwood added, noting that his scroll had just informed him that the automated courier had arrived. "There are some items I would like to discuss with you."

Ron was feeling a little shaky on his feet when he left the pod; shaky enough that he was more than ready to take a seat in the debriefing room as soon as he reached it. Of course, if this brought him closer to home, it was worth it. He forced himself to look at the bright side; he was now getting closer. Every trial brought him closer to his parents; closer to Hana and Rufus.

Closer to KP.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud thump as the physicist set a large bottle of a sports drink on the table next to him. Ron started to get to his feet, but both the doctor and the headmaster waved him to remain seated. Nodding in gratitude, he opened the drink and sucked down both water and electrolytes. He couldn't fault the doctor her manners...unlike a certain engineer...

For several minutes, Dr. Physiker discussed what she was trying to accomplish. While most of it was well over Ron's head, what parts he could understand were mostly reiterating previous discussions. When the doctor told him that she was able to obtain data much faster when Ron changed the Lotus Blade to non-standard forms, the blonde man smiled.

He could only hope that someone at Yamanouchi had seen the blade change, would understand the significance of the forms, and would then get the word out. Ron was feeling better about his situation than he had for months.

"Ron," General Ironwood addressed him, once the physicist was finished. "I have recovered some items that may have been traded from your world to ours. I'd like you to look at them and tell me if you recognize them."

Ron nodded as the general pulled a bag out of what appeared to be a floating box.

"That's some sort of assault rifle," Ron told him, when Ironwood pulled a weapon out of the bag. "As well as a magazine of ammunition. I can't tell you the exact type, or what nation it comes from."

"Would this be a standard weapon for the soldiers on your world?" The general asked.

Ron nodded.

"So they would be common, made to be produced by the thousands?"

Ron nodded again. The general sighed.

"What's wrong," Ron asked the older man. "Is it general or headmaster?"

"General," Ironwood answered. "An operative of mine encountered men armed with weapons like this. They are capable of shooting through an active aura. It would appear that this Professor Dementor of yours was trading such weapons to Salem. People armed with these weapons pose a significant threat to even elite hunters. We have no way of knowing how many he sent through, only that they are common on your world."

Ron knew that he wasn't guilty of this; in fact, he had worked to halt it. However, he felt somehow responsible since the weapons came from his world.

"There was something else," the general continued. "Three large, cylindrical objects that the handlers referred to as wonder weapons. They had this symbol on them."

Ron looked at the paper that the general laid on the table and his eyes flew wide. He could feel the blood drain from his face as he looked the older man in the eye.

"Oh my God!" He gasped, his voice trembling. "Did Dementor send nukes through?"


A/N: As always, thanks to Joe Stoppinghem, my ever-patient beta-reader.