A/N: Not gonna lie, this one was a lot of fun to write. Probably had the most fun writing a scene from Jacques's perspective. The narcissism practically wrote itself.


Knock knock.

Central Officer Peter Van Doorn looked up from his work and offered a weary smile to his visitor.

"Councilman Bailey," he said. "Is it that time of the week again?"

"It is," Bailey answered with a nod, taking his usual seat across from Van Doorn as he set down his tablet. "How is progress with the Hyperwave Relay?"

"Slower than we'd have liked," Van Doorn said with a sigh. "Our research team is actually getting agitated because it almost seems like the relay is actively trying to stymie them at every turn."

Bailey raised an eyebrow. "It's an object."

Van Doorn laughed while sending the latest update to the Councilman's tablet. Bailey was right, of course. Neither the Central Officer nor his scientists actually believed that the relay was working against them. But after having access to its capabilities for months, after collecting an unfathomable amount of data on its usage, after fine-tuning their techniques with the relay to the point where they could deploy soldiers to a location on Remnant with an accuracy of less than half a foot? Losing that ability, and failing for so long to get it back, was a pretty heavy reality check.

XCOM hadn't mastered the Hyperwave Relay. They had simply figured out how to capitalize on the phenomena of the state that they had found it in.

"Still no successful activations," Van Doorn said, taking a sip of coffee as he watched Bailey pore over the data. "Though the research team is becoming increasingly certain that the nature of the relay's gate isn't merely translocative."

"Transdimensional?" Bailey asked.

"The deciphered text on the relay that we've recovered from the Temple Ship's archives seem to indicate that that is the case," Van Doorn confirmed. "At the same time, though, all of the texts and notes we found only discussed the communication aspect of the relay. It's possible that those four-armed jackasses weren't even aware of its ability to move material from one place to another."

The Councilman hummed at the suggestion, and Van Doorn remained silent while his guest continued to read.

He had to admit that he was surprised when the science team first suggested that the Ethereals didn't know about the teleportation aspect of the relay. It was their device, after all, and they were a civilization advanced enough to develop near-limitless energy and a ship that ran on mind powers. How could something as significant as this slip their notice? But the more Van Doorn thought about it, the more it made sense. If the Ethereals had that capability, they could have just warped in soldiers wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted. It would have eliminated the need for their UFOs, Harvesters, Assault Carriers…

"Is it possible that the Ethereals stole the technology from some… other civilization that they conquered? Perhaps the transportation aspect is something that the… defeated race kept secret from their oppressors," Bailey suggested.

Van Doorn nodded. "That is one possibility that we considered. Another is that they built the relay themselves, and that it really was meant to strictly be a communication device. We figured that part out ourselves within days of researching the device and installing it in our own network. What if the transportation aspect was jury rigged by someone else?"

"Someone who knew far more about the relay than its original creators? Who somehow… tapped into our relay and opened up a connection?"

"Remnant is a place with fantastic creatures, citizens with literal animalistic traits, and abilities powered by the soul," Van Doorn said with a shrug. "You don't think it's possible that someone or something on the other end was able to lock onto our signal, hijack the communications device, and turn it into a portal?"

Bailey steepled his fingers and considered Van Doorn's words. Words that, to be fair, sounded utterly ridiculous. At the same time…

"With what we have seen over the past couple of years," Bailey started, "I suppose that anything is possible."

"We'll keep you posted on any new developments," Van Doorn said. "Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

Bailey slid some papers across the table towards the Central Officer and gave him a moment to skim the contents. The cover page revealed the title, "COUNCIL REQUEST FOR STANDING JOINT MILITARY PRESENCE ABOARD THE TEMPLE SHIP."

Van Doorn looked up at Bailey. "It's about time we address the elephant in the room, I suppose, isn't it?"

"You retain the option of accepting or… rejecting the request, Central," Bailey assured. "This is not a command. However, the Council believes it would be… beneficial for humanity's morale if the Temple Ship was seen as something that belongs to the people of Earth as a whole rather than simply XCOM."

Van Doorn nodded. "Not only that, but it would be a pretty enticing carrot for any countries that are still holding out on joining the council of nations. A chance to have a military presence on the most advanced piece of technology on Earth? I'm not sure who in their right mind would pass that up."

The Central Officer continued to skim the pages of the proposal. He was pleased to see that the Council was very clear about the chain of command, and how XCOM would remain firmly at the top. The third page outlined a proposal for expanding the training exercises with the equipment built and used during the Long War, as well as increased production of said tech. Van Doorn was slightly hesitant about that latter bit, as it almost felt like the opening of a Pandora's Box that should stay shut. Especially the sub-proposal regarding the rollout of a larger psionic program. Still, strict regulation and control over the equipment (and oversight of the personnel) should help make sure it didn't fall into the wrong hands.

The fifth page caught his eye.

"A proposal for more Hyperwave gates?" Van Doorn asked. "We're still struggling to get our current one working again, if you recall."

"And once it's... operational, would it not be wise to have additional gates ready to go to… assist Bradford once contact is re-established?"

A fair point. And XCOM did have the resources to fulfill the request. The core of the relay structure was a device XCOM had found in every alien base they'd assaulted during (and after) the Long War, since it was what the invaders had evidently used for rapid communication among their forces. With all of those cores, XCOM's R&D division could easily make several new gates onboard the Temple Ship.

Or perhaps even a single larger gate.

"I'll discuss it with our research staff," Van Doorn promised. "And I will discuss the overall proposal with my officers. However, I don't see any reason why we would turn it down."

Bailey nodded. "By all means, please take your time considering it. Now, I do have some questions regarding the various… subgroups that have started to develop in the wake of the war."

"You're referring to Geist," Van Doorn said, knowing full well that this conversation was going to happen at some point.

"I am."

"He was XCOM's second-strongest psionic soldier, right behind Major Durand. With Annette trapped on Remnant, he is now number one. While I do have some concerns regarding his… fanaticism, he is still serving a valuable function for XCOM."

"He is also attempting to covertly indoctrinate psi operatives into his pseudo-cult," Bailey pointed out.

Van Doorn couldn't deny that. "Rest assured that we are closely monitoring his activities, and that he is well aware of our concerns. The full extent and nature of psionics is still not fully-understood, Councilman. It's not surprising that some approach it with a sense of mysticism."

"I understand, Central. It is still important that I… voice the concerns of the council."

"Of course."

"That being said, we have noticed the… improvements that Geist has brought to XCOM's psi corps. The footage of the latest Grimm incursion where he deployed those… psionic blades was of particular interest."

Van Doorn had watched that footage as well. "Part of the reason we are allowing his behavior to continue, Councilman, is the hope that Geist will develop a new approach to the use of psionics that offers a viable advantage in a tactical setting. If he is able to further develop these psionic blades and new techniques for how to use them, then I believe his work is worth the risk represented by his… religious approach.

"And Geist isn't the only one seeking to evolve psionics beyond what XCOM had during the Long War," Van Doorn added. "As I'm sure you're aware, several of our operatives are establishing a school of sorts for people with a psionic aptitude. XCOM has its psi corps that it trains, of course, but the establishment in Scotland is intended to be civilian. Endorsed by XCOM, of course, and working closely with us, but we want to see how they are able to evolve the power in a more academic setting."

Bailey hummed. "I think I recall seeing your… preliminary report on this. It is located in the Mucallin Keep, if I recall."

"Correct. And alongside Geist's school of thought, there are at least two others that seem to be gaining traction. Each views psionics a little differently, and so far, it seems that each view complements one another to some degree."

"Then perhaps it is for the best to leave Geist to his own devices," Bailey agreed, standing up as he prepared to leave. "Under a… watchful eye, of course."

Van Doorn grinned as he shook Bailey's hand. "Rest assured, Councilman. We… will be watching."


"Stunning news from tonight, as video from the Schnee family's fundraiser event shows sworn enemies Lady Cinder Fall of ADVENT and Central Officer Bradford from XCOM dancing with each other. While their organizations are still at odds with one another, the two leaders apparently decided to bury the hatchet, if only for an evening, as a show of unity for the rest of Remnant."

"Lisa, the viewers have asked when you plan to next have either the Fall Maiden or the Central Officer on for an interview, citing that it's been well over a week since you last sat down with them."

"A fair question, Camden. I've discussed the situation with VNN's management, and we've come to a decision to put interviews with both entities on hold for now. Despite the cooperation of their leaders last night, there is still a great deal of volatility between their respective factions. VNN is committed to uncovering and reporting on the truth. While that hasn't changed, we are concerned that our involvement in this developing story might influence the outcome in some way, and that is not our intention. Our goal is to keep the public informed, in an unbiased manner, and that is what we will do to the very best of our abilities."

"Well, we can't really argue with something like that, now can we? Stay tuned, and we'll be right back."

Junior snorted. Fancy words and lofty goals, but he knew the real reason why Lisa wasn't taking calls. It was, coincidentally, also the reason why his two operatives were laid up in bed instead of out recovering more intel on the drug war in the Agricultural District.

"Fuckin' Cinder…" Junior muttered.

He'd never admit it to Bradford's face, but Omerta and Ochoa were absolutely worth their weight in Lien. They easily became two of his top agents in less than a month, second only to the Malachites. And even then, there were some things that they did better than Miltia and Melanie. Not that the twins were complaining; they warmed up to the XCOM operatives faster than Junior did. Probably helped that Ochoa wasn't trying to hit on them the moment they made eye contact.

But in all seriousness, they actually helped Junior re-evaluate how he ran is business. They never second-guessed him, and they never disobeyed his orders, but they also weren't afraid to offer suggestions during discussions with The Boss. If Junior turned down a proposal, the operatives never brought it up again. Sometimes, though, Junior would find himself circling back to a previously-denied suggestion after he had time to think about it. And there was never a 'Told you so' if the proposal turned out to be successful.

Crime and vice was still absolutely a lucrative business, and Junior had no intention of changing his entire business model. However, the more pragmatic approach that XCOM offered in contrast to Junior's usual strong arm methods was working well enough to consider investing more resources into that avenue.

The establishment's front door opened, pulling Junior out of his thoughts. A man came in, escorted by a trio of Junior's henchmen, who looked absolutely haggard. His eyes were listless, his hair unkempt, and his clothes torn and dirty. The moment he caught sight of Junior though, a modicum of energy and focus seemed to return to his body, and the man started to lurch more quickly in the direction of the bar.

Junior held up a hand, both to slow the man's advance and to tell his henchmen to put their guns away. Because after a few more seconds of getting a good look at the man, he finally recognized him.

Taiyang Xiao Long.

While Junior may have had some beef with Taiyang's daughter, he did have some respect for the man himself after Tai tagged along on several of Bradford's trips to Junior's neck of the woods. Tai made it clear on their first meeting that he didn't approve of Junior's criminal activity, but also acknowledged that he trusted in Bradford's judgment to work out an agreement of cooperation. After that? He never brought up his distaste again.

He didn't know much about the man, but Junior could at least be confident that this current look of his was not normal.

"Junior… please…" the man said as he continued to approach the bar counter. His voice was barely above a whisper. "I… need to get a message out to XCOM."

Junior raised an eyebrow, waiting for Taiyang to spit it out.

"Somethin' about Ruby Rose, boss," one of the henchmen said. "He's been mutterin' her name ever since he found us patrolling a few miles south of here."

Ruby Rose? That was his other kid, wasn't it? Junior remembered Bradford mentioning a 'Captain Rose' once or twice.

The almost-immediate dilation of Taiyang's eyes at Ruby's name, the look of fear and horror as it summoned memories of… something? Someone as badass as this guy probably didn't spook easy, but something managed to pull it off.

"She's… gone," he choked. "Taken. I… need to tell Bradford."

"ADVENT?" Junior asked.

Taiyang shook his head. "Something… something monstrous. Something that can… that can take the dead and bring it back to life."

"You're sounding crazy, old man," Junior said. The fierce look that Taiyang shot him almost made Junior regret his comment.

"It wore my wife as a skin suit and stole my daughter." Taiyang practically snarled. "It toyed with us like a cat plays with its food. And once it grew tired of its games, it knocked me out in one shot. I don't know what it wants with Ruby, but XCOM needs to know, and they need to know now."

"That's going to need a better explanation," Junior said quietly, stepping out from around the bar. "Why don't you follow me so we can have a chat with my operatives? They know how to contact Bradford, and they can also figure out how to get you on your way back to his merry little crew."

It was fortunate that the nightclub was closed, because that outburst would have been a fairly awkward thing for Junior to explain to his patrons. But for now, it was clear that he needed to take Taiyang somewhere more private.

"We need to be quick," Taiyang said. "Every second they have Ruby is-"

"Buddy," Junior interjected, "I am literally taking you straight to the people who can help. From what I hear, your kid's made of pretty stern stuff. It's not gonna help if you panic uselessly in my establishment."

Taiyang stared at Junior like he'd been slapped. He recovered enough to slowly nod in acknowledgement and followed Junior upstairs to where Omerta and Ochoa were resting.

Junior wasn't even sure why he was being so patient with this guy. Maybe it was because nobody was around, and so he didn't need to put on his Tough Guy Hat. Maybe it was because Bradford had done him some pretty big favors, with no strings attached, and Junior figured that this was a good way to pay him back. Or maybe it was because Taiyang was suffering, and helping him was the right thing to do.

… Nah, that can't be right. He'd have to send out some of his guys to shake down a business later to remind himself that he ran a criminal enterprise.

As the low beat of the nightclub below faded away, Junior could hear voices coming from the room down the hallway where the operatives were staying. He opened the door to their room to see the two of them laying in bed while chatting with Melanie and Miltia. All four of them looked up at Junior's arrival, as well as Taiyang's presence behind their boss.

"What's up?" Ochoa asked.

Junior jerked a thumb at Taiyang. "This guy needs to get a message out to Bradford. Apparently his kid's been nabbed by some freak, supernatural something-or-other, and XCOM needs to know about it."

"We talking about Rose or Xiao Long?"

"Rose," Junior answered.

Omerta swore. Even the Malachites looked concerned.

"That kid is tough as nails, boss," Ochoa said. "If something got the jump on her? That's pretty serious."

Omerta nodded in agreement. "Tai's right. We need to get this out to XCOM."

"Guess we're taking a field trip, then?" Melanie asked.

Junior knew what she was referring to. Back when XCOM was still licking their wounds in Patch, Bradford had a couple of his engineers develop a radio system and deployed it in the slums where Junior could keep an eye on it. He didn't really pay attention to much of the Central Officer's explanation about it, but there was something about piggybacking off of the CCT's signal and masking the message with the 'MacAuley Protocol.' Whatever the fuck that was.

The only reason why he was okay with the whole thing was that Bradford gave Junior a failsafe to ensure that no messages went out without his express permission. Ochoa and Omerta promised that they would not be sending secret reports back to XCOM while working for him, but Junior learned long ago not to trust promises. Instead, Bradford had given Junior (and only Junior) a key and had his engineers demonstrate that the transmission function of the equipment would not work without it. So if his two operatives ever wanted to send out a message, they would have to bring him along first.

"Can we go now?" Taiyang asked.

Junior looked at his two operatives, then at the Malachites.

"Are they good to go?"

Miltia nodded. "Yeah. They probably shouldn't be dabbling in combat for another couple of days, but we're just talking a walk. Might even be good for them."

Good enough for him.

"Alright. Grab your things, then. Time to send a message."


The briefing room was quiet while Bradford's waited for the members of Dagger Team to file in. With him at the table was the Archon (with Elena), Odei, Vahlen, Tygan, Shen, Qrow, and Goodwitch. Bradford was still pretty beat from the gala, but the possible findings of the insertion operation were too important to wait until morning. If XCOM needed to act on Dagger's information, an eight-hour head start could mean the difference between success and failure.

On his left, both Vahlen and Tygan looked even more worn out than Bradford felt. Once she'd heard that Dagger had returned with the body of a guard that appeared to have the same Grimm infection as the soldiers in Avitus, she made a beeline for the surgery room to personally conduct the autopsy. Given his background in biochemistry, Tygan felt obligated to join her. The two of them had rather large, steaming cups of coffee sitting in front of them at the table, courtesy of Dr. Oobleck.

It didn't take too long for the operatives to find their seats (with the notable absence of Annette Durand, who was still recovering from the op), and Bradford began the debrief.

"Master Sergeant Belladonna," Bradford started, "Report."

Blake stood up, adopted an at ease posture, and began, "The insertion operation was successful, Central. Our team managed to enter the mansion's premises, rendezvous with our inside contact, break into Jacques Schnee's study, and evac without incident. Several guards had to be neutralized during the operation, and Operative Daichi's semblance was used to ensure that their memories of the incident were gone until a day later. At that point, it is highly unlikely that those affected will be willing to bring it up with their superior officers. They will either dismiss it as a weird dream, or hope that nothing bad came of it."

Bradford nodded. He figured that the fact that there wasn't a commotion during the gala was a good sign, but he also knew that security would keep news of a break-in quiet to avoid upsetting the guests. Blake's report sounded good so far.

"Anything of interest in the study?" he asked.

"Several," Blake confirmed. "First, as you already know, we encountered and returned with a guard stationed outside of Jacques's study who we believed to be modified in a manner similar to the soldiers during the Avitus incident."

Blake glanced at Vahlen. "Do you have any news regarding the soldier we recovered?"

Vahlen took a deep pull from her coffee and stood up, with Tygan following suit. Bradford noticed that his Chief Scientist wobbled ever-so-slightly and made a mental note to demand that she take tomorrow off.

"Preliminary findings from the autopsy confirm that the corpse was modified similarly to the Avitus soldier we examined previously," Vahlen said. "Black wisps exited the cut site, and multiple organs were found missing -either partially or entirely- upon examination."

"An interesting note from the examination is the consistency of which organs were, shall we say, 'Grimmified' between our two autopsy subjects," Tygan added. "Both corpses had Grimm elements present in the majority of their musculature, but the degree of evaporation among internal organs was relatively inconsistent, with the exception of a specific cavity located on the left side of the neck. Said cavity appeared to be identical in both subjects."

Vahlen nodded in agreement. "While a sample size of two doesn't provide any conclusive evidence, our current hypothesis is that the location on the neck is an insertion point for whatever process is applied to the modified soldiers."

"Lily, Penny, and Nichole reported that Dr. Polendina discussed with them an invasive Grimm," Bradford mused, "not unlike the Geist that Captain Rose and Lieutenant Arc hunted back on Patch. Is it possible that there is a parasitic element to these enhancements?"

Vahlen and Tygan shared a look before the latter answered, "It is possible, though as Dr. Vahlen said, we would need more samples to validate the theory. If these soldiers are being modified to serve as hosts for a Grimm parasite, the implications are… concerning."

'Especially since Winter has undergone a modification procedure,' was the unspoken second half of Tygan's statement.

Vahlen seemed to share Bradford's thoughts. "Our teams are investigating the research notes provided to us by Dr. Polendina regarding his extraction device. We are prioritizing the development of a working prototype that can see field testing as soon as possible."

"Sounds good to me," Bradford said. The Archon likewise bowed his head in acknowledgement of the plan, and Qrow and Goodwitch said nothing. "Belladonna, please continue."

The two researchers sat down, and Blake resumed. "The second point of interest in the study was the presence of a psionic Grimm. Major Durand detected the contact before we engaged the guard posted at the doors."

"Psionic… Grimm?" Bradford asked. The implications of that did not sit well with him.

Blake nodded. "Yes, sir. The Major picked up on a psionic link between the guard and something inside the study, similar to the Mind Merge effect that we saw among Sectoids during the Long War. Prior to our assault on the guard, Major Durand traced the link and located the psyche of the creature on the other end." Blake made a few keystrokes on her scroll, and several pictures of the tentacled Grimm appeared on the tablets of the briefing attendees. "She engaged it in a Mind War and locked it down while we neutralized the guard, and she continued to distract it while we broke into the study to destroy the Grimm itself."

Odei glanced at Bradford. "Tracing a psi tether back to an unseen target and engaging it remotely? That's not something we've seen our operatives to be capable of in the past. Sounds like the Major got a little assistance from her friend."

"Agreed," Bradford said.

He still wasn't sure what to make of this Asaru. As his connection grew stronger with Annette, the other psi operatives confirmed that his mental imprint fit that of an Ethereal. However, none of his actions appeared to have any malicious intent. So long as the psi corps kept a close eye on him, Bradford had to hesitantly accept the fact that he was a beneficial asset for XCOM.

"So this tentaculat…" Dr. Vahlen said, "do we know anything about it?"

Blake shook her head. "Other than the fact that it is psionic, its tentacles are highly dexterous and end in sharp blades? No."

"It's a shame that the Grimm dissipate upon death," Vahlen sighed.

"I wonder if that isn't by design," Dr. Shen mused. "If there is some mastermind behind the evolution of these creatures, perhaps they developed the evanescent trait as a way of making sure their monsters could never be fully understood. After all, a great deal of our success in the Long War came from the autopsies and interrogations of our enemies. Our inability to do so here is a heavy blow to our research and development."

"The bigger question is why was there a tentacle Grimm in Jacques's office in the first place?" Bradford asked. "Did he willingly allow it to be there? Or was it hidden from him and kept there to spy on him?"

"And influence him," Ren added. "There was a feeling of dread that lingered over the Schnee manor. It wasn't very noticeable, but it evaporated the moment we killed the monster."

Odei hummed loudly. "Weiss did mention on several occasions how her father's mansion felt a lot gloomier than she remembered. Perhaps it had something to do with this creature?"

The picture was starting to become clearer, but nothing could be known for certain without knowing whether Jacques accepted the monster into his mansion or if it was slipped in by Salem. Both scenarios were bad, but the latter at least meant that Jacques wasn't fully cooperating with the most evil person on Remnant.

Blake continued, "Depending on how long it had been residing at the manor, it is possible that the monster's effects caused people at the Schnee manor to behave irrationally."

"Like how Jacques decided to unilaterally order the execution of my two comrades," Odei muttered.

"Yes," Blake agreed, "among other things."

Bradford decided to recap what they'd learned so far. "So we strongly suspect that these soldier modifications involve Grimm hybridization. We know that Atlas is already rolling out their use to near and far within their kingdom. There's a possibility that a parasitic implanted Grimm is contributing to the zealotry of these soldiers, maybe even allowing the Grimm to assume complete control of the host's actions. Additionally, there is at least one instance of a psionic Grimm that has emotion-altering capabilities, and it was stationed to be in close contact with one of Atlas's most influential civilians. Given the effects of this monster, it's likely that Salem has deployed them across Remnant to influence or outright control important personnel."

"Might explain how Vacuo accepted ADVENT's leadership so quickly," Goodwitch suggested. "They're a proud people, and while ADVENT has evidently proven themselves capable of surviving in the Vacuan deserts, it does seem odd that the people would accept a change in management without a fuss."

This whole thing was starting to sound worse and worse. But knowledge was power, and it was something Bradford could use to XCOM's advantage.

"Alright. What else did you find?"

"One last thing," Blake said, making a few more keystrokes on her scroll. "Our team found a black book in Jacques's desk. There was no failsafe or triggered countermeasure protecting it, as far as we could tell. We might be able to chalk this one up to the man's hubris, thinking that he was powerful and influential enough that nobody would even think of breaking into his office and finding his secrets."

Bradford's tablet dinged, and a file appeared that contained pages upon pages of hand-written notes in a physical book. Blake waited for a few minutes to allow the people in the room to briefly read through the material. From his own skimming, Bradford saw pages that discussed 'possession-type Grimm,' backing up what Lily reported of her talk with Dr. Polendina wherein he mentioned Jacques's obsession with that particular strain of monsters.

There were also a lot of pages planning out the expansion of the SDC's socio-political power in Atlas and beyond. Among the pages that detailed ways he could blackmail his competitors, Bradford saw some comments regarding Cinder's faction. It appeared that Jacques believed ADVENT to be a means to his own personal ends, which was actually a relief for Bradford. If Jacques was trying to use ADVENT rather than fully backing them, that meant that Jacques would have developed a few contingency plans to give himself an edge over Cinder. Skimming further ahead quickly revealed one of those contingency plans.

It appeared that Jacques managed to figure out the location of Dr. Merlot's lab.

Bradford looked over at Odei and the Archon. "Jacques seems to have found out where Merlot is holed up. I want the location verified, and a recon team prepped and deployed to scout it out ASAP. Might also be a good opportunity to deploy Pyrrha's vehicle to act as an FOB."

Odei got up and left, and Elena quickly followed after a small nod from the Archon. There would be time to fully read through the rest of Jacques's notes, but given the importance Merlot seemed to be playing in all of this? Getting a lock on his location was a top -and immediate- priority.

"Alright," Bradford said, "Anything else-"

The doors to the briefing room burst open, and a wide-eyed Samuelson ran in.

"Central," he began, "we have a serious problem."

Of course. Of course there would be a problem just as things seemed to be going right.

"I'm guessing it can't wait," Bradford said.

Samuelson shook his head. "We picked up an encoded message on the MacAuley wavelength."

Bradford swore. The only person who currently had access to that protocol was Junior, and he never used it to get a message out.

"What is it?"

"Three words, sir: RUBY. STATUS. GREY."

The room fell silent. Blake's eyes grew wide, and Qrow nearly fell out of his chair. Several of the room's occupants weren't sure what Status Grey meant, but even they could guess that any status other than 'Green' was a bad thing.

Ruby Status Grey.

Ruby had been captured.

Location unknown.

For a brief moment, Bradford was frozen by the fear of the first (and most logical) answer that came to mind. If Merlot was developing a tech that could control afflicted subjects, what better place to send one of XCOM's most powerful soldiers?

It was a good thing they'd just learned of the location for Merlot's lab. The timetable for action had just accelerated to an uncomfortable degree.

"Sergeant Samuelson," Bradford said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Get a secure message out to Lieutenant Kelly's group in the Downside: Operation Warsaw begins at midday tomorrow."

Samuelson saluted and ran out of the room. Everyone else who remained turned their eyes back to Bradford.

He continued. "Goodwitch, please gather all officers and Strike Leaders so that we can begin prepping for the assault on Merlot's Lab. We will use tonight's recon deployment to figure out how we're going to proceed, and then strike after Warsaw is underway."

Glynda nodded and stood up. "Yes, sir. Do we have a name for the operation yet?"

"Yes. An hour after Warsaw commences, we will initiate Operation Gatecrasher."


How dare she?

Jacques Schnee sat at the desk in his office, his mind whirling with all the things that went wrong during the gala last night. First, he discovered that the guard that was supposed to be watching his office had evidently wandered off sometime during the evening. The door's lock was exactly the way Jacques had left it, so the oaf likely decided to sneak off somewhere and take a nap. Or maybe he swiped one of the bottles from that ridiculous shipment Willow had ordered. What the hell was that madwoman thinking?

But the door guard wasn't apparently the only one who didn't know how to do his job. One of the security leads reported to Jacques that several patrol teams were found passed out in various hallways and nooks with a bottle or two of the alcohol intended for the guests. Jacques was, naturally, furious at the discovery, and he was already planning out how he was going to go about punishing his staff for their egregious misconduct.

The servants had their own share of problems. Apparently, Jacques's guests from XCOM were almost not admitted entry at the front gate because the doorman was busy humming and hawing about Captain Beagle. As much as Jacques himself took issue with Bradford pulling a last-minute addition to his attendance list, the headlines stemming from XCOM's barred entry would have been even more horrific. Did the doorman not understand that?

And then Klein somehow managed to make himself scarce on one of the most important evenings of the year. So many issues, hiccups, and delays with the wait staff could be traced back to Klein not being where Jacques needed him. As one of the mansion's most competent butlers, Jacques relied on Klein to be a problem solver and expediter to make sure these kind of events ran smoothly. And yet, he had the gall to run off somewhere in the middle of the gala. To his (minimal) credit, Klein had apologized profusely to Jacques afterwards, citing a request from Weiss as a reason for his absence.

Which led Jacques's train of thought back to the worst offender by far from last night was: his own daughter.

It didn't matter that her surprise performance was a rave hit with the crowd. It didn't matter that her song of choice resonated with the theme of peace that Jacques was going for. It didn't matter that the newspapers and early-morning talking heads would almost certainly be lavishing praise upon her come tomorrow for making such a bold statement. None of that mattered, because she kept it a secret from him. Here they were, organizing an event for the whole world to see, and his own daughter —his own flesh and blood!— had the nerve to pull a surprise that could have ruined everything.

And what was the point of keeping it a secret, hmm? Was it another one of her little acts of rebellion that she seemed to be oh-so-fond of? Or perhaps she saw an opportunity for glory, that a stunt like this might even outshine her father in his effort to put on an extravagant fundraiser for the good of the world? Weiss always seem to be lacking in a few key traits possessed by her siblings. Duty… honor…

Obedience.

Jacques had put up with his daughter's insolence for a long time, far longer than any parent should be expected to. Against his better judgement, he allowed her to follow Winter down the path of a huntress. And then again, he allowed her to go to Beacon for her schooling instead of insisting she stay in Atlas. And finally, after she had shown her incredible lack of judgment by aligning with XCOM, Jacques still gave his daughter the benefit of the doubt by not putting her under strict house arrest. He thought a gentler touch would be the best way to get through to Weiss. Tonight's outburst showed him, clearly, that he was wrong. It was time to take more drastic measures.

The master of the house sat back in his chair and took a moment to close his eyes. He breathed in deep and savored the rich mahogany smell of his office. Sometimes, it was important to slow down and remind himself of all the wealth he'd accrued over his lifetime. All of the lessons he'd learned on his rise to the top. All of the wisdom he'd gained during the journey.

Wisdom that he would now be putting to use in disciplining his daughter.

A thought occurred to Jacques. He reached into his desk drawer for one of his most treasured possessions. He flipped the book open to the section detailing his notes on his other daughter. Specifically, his notes regarding the work Merlot had done on her. Winter's aggression had increased noticeably after Merlot's modifications, but her receptiveness to authority was not hindered. In fact, while Winter's military training had ingrained the idea of the chain of command in her a long time ago, Jacques noticed that she would still slight him now and then in very subtle ways. He'd written it off as her reminding him upon occasion that she was not pleased with some of his business choices. Well, as long as her reminders were in private and harmless, Jacques didn't really give a shit about her opinions on how he ran his empire.

But now? Jacques couldn't recall a single time that Winter had done something to that effect since paying Merlot a visit. It was almost as if her sense of respect had expanded to more fully include him as well.

"And what have we here," Jacques mused, reading further, "A follow-up visit with the good doctor… tomorrow? My, my now that sounds like quite an opportunity."

Jacques pressed a button on his desk to page Klein. He almost felt bad about it, since it was such a late hour and the butler would almost certainly be up until well into the morning overseeing the cleanup of the gala. But is this not what Jacques pays him for?

He made himself a small glass of whiskey and sampled the drink while he waited for his butler to arrive. Not surprisingly, Klein didn't keep him waiting for very long.

"Master Schnee," Klein started with a bow, "how may I be of service?"

"Please fetch my daughter for me," Jacques answered.

"Winter?" Klein asked.

"No," Jacques said, taking a sip from his tumbler, "the other one."

He watched in amusement as Klein's eyes flickered. It was no secret that the man doted on Weiss, and so Jacques sometimes liked to remind his butler who wrote his check every month.

Professionalism won out in the end, of course, and Klein bowed once more. "Very well, I will let her know at once that you wish to speak with her."

Jacques was left to his own thoughts (and his whiskey) while he waited for his daughter to arrive. The more he thought about this opportunity with Winter's return to Merlot's lab, the more he agreed with himself that his plan was the best one. Merlot would understand immediately what Jacques was proposing the moment he saw Weiss step off of the transport with Winter. The fact that Jacques would force his hand might put a strain on his relationship with the doctor, but would Merlot really turn down the opportunity to work on another prime specimen?

At any rate, the end result would be worth it.

A knock on the door, and then Weiss stepped inside. She looked practically dead on her feet, but she still had the wherewithal to offer Jacques a polite curtsey before asking, "You wished to see me, Father?"

Ah. Composure and respect. How refreshing. Where was this Weiss a few hours ago?

"I did," Jacques answered. "As you might be aware, Winter's presence is required at Dr. Merlot's laboratory tomorrow. Some kind of 'tune up,' I believe."

Weiss nodded, but said nothing.

Jacques took another sip of whiskey before finishing, "I would like for you to accompany her."

His daughter's hesitation to react was plain as day. They both knew that his 'request' was actually a demand. What interested Jacques, however, was what Weiss believed was the reason for his demand. Perhaps she would guess at the truth, or perhaps she merely thought that her father had garnered enough favor with Merlot to allow his daughter to tour the premises.

"I am aware that the two of you are close," Jacques continued. He stood up from his desk and turned to face the (impressively handsome) portrait of his younger self, his hands folded behind his back. "I think we both know that Winter has become a touch more… aggressive ever since Merlot conducted his operation. It is my belief that having you there with her will help keep her calm while the doctor does his work."

"… Would he allow it?" Weiss asked. "My understanding is that Doctor Merlot is very secretive about his work."

"Winter is his magnum opus. I'm certain he'll be willing to make an exception in her case."

Jacques continued to admire the artistic mastery of the portrait while he waited for Weiss to respond. The man he commissioned was very expensive. The tall price, however, was worth every penny.

Weiss, surprisingly, didn't force him to wait long. "Of course, Father. I shall prepare my things tonight so that I am ready whenever it is time to depart."

"Leave your weapon at home," Jacques said. "Merlot takes the security of his lab very seriously, and does not allow guests to be armed."

The hesitation before Weiss answered was noticeable. "Very well. Will that be all?"

Goodness, the degree of emotion that the artist poured into his eyes was simply marvelous.

"Yes. You may leave."

He assumed Weiss offered a curtsey to his back before Jacques heard her turn around and leave his study.

If all went well, Jacques would have a much improved daughter the next time he saw her.


"Ruby…"

Someone was calling her name? Ruby tried to open her eyes, but found her eyelids to be a lot heavier than she expected.

"Wake up, Ruby…"

Scratch that. Everything seemed to be a lot heavier than expected. She could definitely hear someone calling her name, but her whole body felt like it was fighting her efforts to get up. But she needed to get up. Why couldn't her body understand that?

"Rise and shine, little one. We have a big day ahead of us…"

Ruby felt a sharp pain in her right arm, and suddenly her veins were flooded with liquid ice. Her eyes snapped open as she gasped from the shock, and Ruby frantically looked around the room to see where she was. The lighting was dim, and cast a slight reddish-purple tint in the room. The air felt slightly damp, and the stone walls lining the room had a faint, glistening sheen. A figure stood, seemingly lifeless in the far corner of the room. Nothing else seemed to be in the room except for an empty chair and the bed Ruby was strapped to.

Strapped to.

Ruby struggled against her restraints. She was still wearing the outfit she had on back at Patch, so this probably wasn't something out of Mac's stories about aliens probing their captive subjects for biological data or something. The sound of a voice gently tutting behind her drew Ruby's attention to the presence of another person in the room.

"You'd think after doing this for centuries, I'd be used to it by now," the woman mused as she stepped into view. "But no. It always intrigues me how much your kind struggles."

Ruby sucked in a quiet breath once she took in the sight of her apparent captor. At this point, Ruby would rather have the alien probing thing. The woman's skin was completely ashen, with what looked like scarlet veins criss-crossing their way like an unholy web encasing her arms. Abyssal pupils ringed with bloody irises stared with amusement at Ruby. White hair was tied with black ribbons that match the cloaked dress she wore.

It wasn't hard for Ruby to guess that she was face to face with Salem.

"You," Ruby accused, her eyes narrowed.

Salem cracked a thin smile. "Me."

Ruby wanted to scream, to lash out at her, to demand what the hell she'd done to Summer. She wanted to pool all the psionic energy she could muster and launch a roiling nuke at this woman smiling serenely back at her. She wanted to tear her captor limb from limb… but while the emotions rose up within her for all of those things, her body simply refused to respond.

She was just so… so tired. The flame that sparked within her upon realizing who she was looking at flickered and sputtered out almost as soon as it sprung to life.

"You murdered my mother," Ruby said, with no energy for anything more than stating a simple fact. "Turned her into a twisted sock puppet for your own personal enjoyment."

The woman sighed, as if disappointed in Ruby's statement. She pulled up the chair and sat down next to her prisoner. Despite her jarring appearance, despite knowing what monstrosities she was capable of, despite the fact that she had Ruby strapped to a table, the woman looked almost… motherly.

"I didn't murder your mother, child," she answered, weariness in her voice. "Your ancestry is rather… important to me. I captured Summer, much like how I captured you, because I need you."

The woman reached out and pulled down on the skin just below Ruby's eyes and leaned over to stare at Ruby's face.

"Pupils are constricted… your tone is relaxed despite the situation…" She leaned back and smiled. "Looks like my spliced servant is performing as intended. Wonderful."

Ruby stared at Salem, but said nothing.

Evidently, this was a slight surprise for her captor. "Oh, come now. You must have questions. Your kind always does. About the beginning, the end, and everything in between. I've always felt that the least I can do is answer any questions you may have while you still have the free will to appreciate the answers."

That put a shiver down Ruby's spine. It made her realize that Salem was telling the truth about not murdering Summer.

Technically.

"… Why."

The question came out as barely more than a whisper, but the stillness and silence of the room meant that the word was carried very clearly to Salem's ear. The woman sighed, reaching for something behind the head of Ruby's bedframe.

"Eighty-two percent," she answered. Was… was she writing notes on a piece of paper?

"… What?"

"That's how often these interviews lead off with that question," Salem explained, looking up at Ruby with what must have been an expression of mild disappointment. "You little heroes are nothing if not consistent.

"But a question is a question. Why? 'Out of necessity' is probably the best answer." Salem's grin returned, and Ruby had a feeling she wasn't going to enjoy the next words out of the woman's mouth. "What's that phrase that your friend loved oh-so-much? Ah yes. We do what we must, because we must."

Ruby froze, and her eyes grew wide. How the hell did she know about Vance?

Salem was clearly satisfied with Ruby's reaction. "Well, I am no different."

"Stay the fuck out of my head," Ruby growled.

"Hmmm…. threats," Salem hummed, flipping through some of her pages. "Not an uncommon reaction. Just shy of fifty-fifty, actually. I'll have to take that into account during preparations. Surprising, given my friend over there. Either I struck a nerve, or you're not feeling quite as apathetic as I previously thought."

What the hell was she doing? Conducting some kind of psychiatric evaluation?

"But to continue with my answer, humanity has something that I need. Something that my peers need, actually," Salem said. "And I do specifically mean humans. I tried to find a quick solution to our predicament a long time ago. The resulting mistake is what you know as the faunus."

Wait…

What?

"The faunus have existed since forever. What are you talking about?"

Salem shook her head, still examining her notes. "Not forever. And I've been around for longer."

"Doing what?" Ruby asked, incredulously, "Kidnapping kids for the hell of it?"

"Steering Remnant's course of history into the direction I need," Salem answered. "Let me tell you, it is very taxing to have to keep an eye on and control every facet of a civilization's growth, but it does help to have all the time in the world. Luckily, I was something of a scientist in a past life. Made it easier for me to track technology and slip in vulnerabilities for my own use."

Ruby felt a sinking feeling growing in her gut.

"… The Black Queen virus?"

The smile on Salem's face was completely genuine as she said, "How perceptive! Yes, that was me." She raised her arms and gestured to herself. "I thought the symbolism was rather fitting, no?"

"You murdered thousands with that virus and the resulting Grimm attack," Ruby hissed. "And you're PROUD of it?!"

"Sacrifices must be made for the sake of scientific progress." Salem got up and put her notes back behind Ruby's head. There was an audible click, and Ruby felt her restraints release. She stood up, looked around, and noticed that there was actually a third entity in the room. 'Entity' was definitely the correct term, because a floating ball thingy with a bunch of deadly-looking tentacles was very much not a 'person.'

"Their deaths will not be in vain, child," the woman continued. "You and I will make sure of that. Like I said, we have a busy day ahead of us."

"What's…?"

"That?" Salem asked, following Ruby's glance to the creature. "I've taken to calling them 'Seers.' They're very helpful, especially when dealing with your kind. I recommend not trying anything. Follow me, please."

Ruby glanced at the Seer, then at the other figure (who had remained silent during her entire exchange with her jailor), and shrugged. Might as well follow along. What was the harm, right? They walked out of the room and down a gloomy hallway. Whatever drug had knocked her out must have been wearing off by now, because Ruby was finally able to detect the psionic energy that Salem had used to dig around in her brain to extract that bit of knowledge about Vance. Several people passed by them in the hall, walking listlessly with vacant eyes. Ruby noticed that all of them bowed with reverence to Salem as she walked by them, but not a single one spoke one word.

"Ah!" Salem exclaimed, "I almost forgot. Why don't we pay a visit to an old friend of yours before our work begins?"

Ruby didn't like the sound of that, but she didn't really have any say in the matter. They took a turn down a side hall, and an idle thought occurred to Ruby.

"Who are your peers?" Ruby asked. "You said that humanity has something your peers need. But all of these people we pass look more like servants."

"Another astute question," Salem said, clearly pleased. "They've been with me since the beginning. They protected me when nobody else would, guided me as I tried to make the most of the tragedies of the past. They allowed me to look forward towards the future, and to fight for something."

… Interesting. "So… who are they?"

Salem waved her off. "It'll be easier to show you than to tell you. You won't have to wait more than a day, though. They'll be getting very acquainted with you soon enough. It might even feel like you're meeting old friends. Ah, here we are."

Salem came to a halt in front of a rather ornate doorway.

"Oooooozpin!" Salem sang. "Do you have a minute?"

Oh no…

The pair was left waiting for less than a minute before the door open, and Beacon's headmaster stepped out. Whatever question he had on his lips evaporated the moment he laid eyes on Salem's captive.

"Ruby…" he whispered.

"P-professor?" Ruby asked, "What are you doing here?" She looked past him into the room. The very well-furnished room. "What's going on?"

Why was he apparently living a comfortable, free lifestyle in the home of Remnant's greatest evil?

"Ruby, I…"

At least he had the decency to look ashamed. Salem was obviously enjoying the uncomfortable reunion.

"What's the matter, Oz?" she asked. "I thought you'd be happy to see little Ruby again."

Ozpin was lost for words.

Don't worry, Professor, Ruby sent, I trust you have a good reason to be here. Don't let her get to you.

A jolt of pain rocked Ruby's head and spread down through her body.

"Naughty, naughty," Salem chided. "Trying to use psionic powers in here is… ill-advised. I will admit that having one of your kind with psionics is a new experience for me, so I do appreciate you providing me with interesting data. In any case, I suppose we should be off. Farewell, Oz. I'll be sure to stop by later for a chat before Ruby's ready for the main event. We just thought it would be nice to say hello."

"You're going to do to me what you did to my mother," Ruby said as Salem led her away.

"You sound like you've made your peace with that revelation," Salem answered. "It might please you to know that remarkably few of your predecessors carried themselves with the same dignity when they discovered their fate.

"Not much point in me wasting my energy, is there?"

"Indeed."

The two became silent as Salem continued to lead Ruby towards her final destination, and the young huntress idly wondered what it was about that silent, shambling companion that was making her feel so complacent. As before, they passed by what Ruby could only guess were servants. With the exception of Ozpin, nobody else in Salem's compound seemed to be fully cognizant of their surroundings. And maybe that Seer thing.

They eventually reached a modern-looking door, which Ruby noted looked out-of-place compared to the fancy, mansion-esque theme of the rest of the building. Salem gestured for Ruby to go inside, revealing what Ruby could only describe as a laboratory. She almost felt like she was back in the Anthill or on the Avenger with Dr. Vahlen. Several people were in here, and unlike the zombies outside, they were actually moving around and handling equipment with a degree of dexterity and care that indicated they were fully-functioning. All across the room, there were tables, machines, specimens…

And a large, circular dais at the back of the room.

As Salem led Ruby towards it, the young huntress felt a lurching feeling in the pit of her stomach. Sets of hand tools lined the sides of the platform, as well as an array of more complex Dust-powered equipment that Ruby didn't recognize. Loose wires hung from the walls and ceilings, and spooled across the floor. She saw the a circular section of glass protruding from the ceiling, and guessed that it could slide down into place to seal off whatever was on the dais from the rest of the room. The last place she saw something like this was down in the laboratories of the Anthill.

Salem, it seemed, was directing Ruby towards an interrogation chamber.

"Ah," Ruby said. "I don't see a bonesaw among the hand tools. Is that in one of those cabinets along with some power drills so you can get to work cutting me up?"

Salem gave Ruby a curious look. "Good heavens, no. Why would I want to damage a perfectly healthy vessel? Child, we are not here to break your body. Our job today is to empty your mind and deplete your soul."

That didn't sound much better, honestly.

With a wave of her hand, Salem directed her guards to escort Ruby into the center of the dais. The Seer drifted to the back of the chamber while the Apathy guard simply stood listlessly in the middle of the room. Salem stepped behind a console, made a few taps and twists, and Ruby saw a thin glass wall slide into place, sealing her in the containment room.

"I won't be doing anything just yet," Salem said. "I've found that this process is much more effective if I leave you in there for a few hours, especially with the Apathy doing his work. Try not to think too hard about what's going to happen. The stress tends to add a layer of complexity that I'd rather not deal with."

Ruby shrugged. A few moments later, and the air began to vibrate. The vibrations slowly became deeper until Ruby started to wince from the effect the airwaves were having on her eardrums.

"Thought you said you weren't doing anything yet," she snarked.

"Oh that? That's hardly anything. It helps make you more… pliable when the real work begins. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Do try to make yourself comfortable."

And without another word, she was gone, leaving Ruby alone in the darkness of her own mind.


"Area is clear, you're safe to move to my position, Ares."

Pyrrha toggled her comm twice to acknowledge and quietly shifted her buggy into drive. Riding shotgun was Jaune, ready to provide combat support or assist Pyrrha with anything she needed. Nichole, her Gremlin frame docked in the cradle just behind the driver's seat, interfaced with the buggy's sensing equipment to provide eyes and ears for Pyrrha. Fanned out in a two-mile semicircle to their front were five Reaper pairs scouting out the region identified by Jacques Schnee's black book as Dr. Merlot's hideout. They arrived an hour ago when Firebrand flew in low and deployed the squad ten miles away from the target destination. Now, the Reapers were slowly working their way forward, identifying each instance of enemy surveillance and security as they progressed, so that Pyrrha's trio could safely advance and establish a forward operating base near the AO.

From the short briefing they received prior to deployment, it sounded like this op wouldn't be finished until well into the late afternoon or early evening the following day. Pyrrha silently thanked Lily for having the foresight to keep rations and instant coffee packed in one of the buggy's footlockers.

With all lights shut off, the vehicle rolled forward without a sound. The snow covering the ground was soft, muting any noise that the wheels might have made from crushing leaves, rocks, and twigs. Nichole synced Pyrrha's tactical visor to the buggy's sensor array so that Pyrrha could navigate with the infrared system. Jaune had his own IR headgear that allowed him to see in the dark, but unlike Pyrrha's visor, it wasn't connected to the buggy's sensory and information suite.

The direction and distance to all five Reaper teams, for example, appeared on Pyrrha's lense as she made her way towards the one marked "Dragunova."

"Nieve's team is detecting a patrol of mechs moving into their section," Nichole chirped in her ear, "It would be best if we veer towards the right as we approach miss Dragunova."

Pyrrha nodded and corrected her course accordingly. Sure enough, another marker appeared on her visor's HUD identifying the location of the patrol. The mere existence of the patrols indicated that something was out here, and that someone wanted to keep it hidden. Even if it wasn't Merlot, it might still be useful for XCOM.

The "distance to" readout for Elena's marker ticked down to zero, and Pyrrha brought the vehicle to a stop moments before the Reaper team appeared out of the darkness.

"We are getting close," Elena whispered while Vessira wound her way up one of the nearby trees to keep a lookout. "Alonso is reporting that his sector is pushing up against the cliffside that we saw during our approach. We are seeing an increase in the number of patrols as we move forward, so it is likely that Merlot's compound is located somewhere along the cliffs to minimize the directions from which an enemy could attack."

"Or he built his lab into the cliffs," Jaune joked. "You know, for bonus Evil Genius Points."

Elena stared at Jaune, and Pyrrha was about to apologize for her partner's lack of professionalism when the Reaper keyed her comm.

"Alonso, prep the grapples once you reach the edge of your sector. We must be certain that there is no entry to the lab along the cliff face."

"Of course, sister," the Reaper responded. "Be advised that the weather here is extreme. We will wait for it to die down before attempting our descent."

Jaune's eyes grew wide as he listened to the exchange. "I… I was joking."

"And I am not," Elena responded simply.

"We have five more hours before sunrise," Pyrrha pointed out. "If we're already almost at the water's edge, then the scouts have plenty of time dispatch one or two teams to check the cliffs. We need to find that lab."

Elena nodded in agreement. "Two teams will be enough to check the cliffs. The rest of us will continue to sweep up here for security measures, observe patrol patterns, and identify the safest insertion point for the Strike Teams when Gatecrasher is given the green light."

The Reaper took a moment to look around from their current vantage point before adding, "I believe you are in a good position here. The trees give you some cover without hampering your field of view or ability to transmit a signal to the Avenger. Unless our teams discover that the lab is in a wildly different direction, this is a good place for you to set up your FOB while we continue to sweep the area."

"Sounds good," Jaune said. He stepped out of the buggy and unlocked one of the footlockers. "I can have the camouflage net set up in a few minutes."

Elena shouldered her rifle and offered a casual salute to the two huntsmen. "Very good. Stay safe, and let us know if there are any developments from Central."

Pyrrha resisted the urge to remind Elena that communications with XCOM were, in fact, the main reason she'd been deployed with the Reapers. Instead, she watched the two Reapers vanish into the dark while Jaune busied himself with pulling the snowy camo net over the buggy to further conceal it from any patrols. He needed to take his time and make sure the concealment was applied properly. If all went well, the two of them would be sitting tight in the buggy for several hours.

Several hours of doing nothing but keeping an eye on the sensors and comms. While Pyrrha was thinking that they'd probably take turns catching some sleep while the other kept an eye on the readouts (or perhaps Nichole could do that for them), that still left a good amount of time for Pyrrha and Jaune to sit and just… be together.

"I'm going to scan the nearby area," Nichole said. "It's possible that my sensors may pick up something that the Reapers have missed!"

The real reason Nichole wanted to leave was transparently clear, and Pyrrha smiled at the idea that her friend wanted to give her some 'alone time' with Jaune.

"That sounds like a good idea," Pyrrha answered. "Just be sure you aren't spotted."

The latches on Nichole's cradle popped free, and the little drone floated up and out of the buggy through a space in Jaune's camo net. "Don't worry! Lily made this chassis specifically for stealth reconnaissance missions. I am invisible to most sensors, and my Gravity Dust does not produce any light. I will let you know if I find anything."

And with that, Nichole was gone. Jaune finished with his preparations a few moments later and rejoined his partner in the buggy. He pulled off his night vision goggles and handed his partner a small thermos, and Pyrrha could faintly feel the heat radiating from it.

"Oobleck lent it to me," Jaune explained. "The inside surface is laced with Fire Dust that is specially designed to react to liquid and provide low, constant heat when activated. No bright lights necessary, and the drink doesn't get hot enough to give off more than a trace amount of steam."

Pyrrha took a sip and wrinkled her nose slightly. Apparently, the drink didn't get hot enough to taste very good, either. Still caffeine was caffeine, and it was more the thought that counted than anything.

"Thank you, Jaune," Pyrrha said.

The two of them fell silent and simply watched the muted lights of the buggy's readouts while listening to the occasional chatter from the Reapers. Alonso reported that the winds were, in fact, not dying down by the cliffs, and he speculated that the local geography was just right to generate the conditions needed for a localized, perpetual storm. The other Reaper team tasked with exploring another section of the cliff face was reporting similar behavior. Elena was reporting what appeared to be more advanced mechs patrolling an area less than a mile away from Alonso's position. The idea that Merlot had an underground lab was becoming likelier with each passing update.

"Pyrrha?"

Pyrrha looked over at her partner. "Hmm?"

"What do you want to do after this is all over?"

"Sleep, probably," Pyrrha answered with a quiet snort.

Jaune chuckled. "No, I mean after the war."

Oh. Hmm. Pyrrha hadn't really thought about that. She was so focused on not being crippled, so focused on stopping Cinder, so focused on helping XCOM find a way back home…

"I… don't know," she admitted. "There's a lot that we can do with two worlds to explore. I think my first goal would be to try and see if I can get back to the way I was before… you know…"

The Fall.

Jaune nodded. "Yeah. But I think even if you aren't able to fully regain your physical abilities, there's still so much that you have the potential to do."

Oh? It sounded like Jaune had given this some thought.

"Such as…?"

"Do you want to keep fighting Grimm?" Jaune asked, "Because you could still operate heavy weapons systems. You're demonstrating now your talent in working with a vehicle crew. Soldier platoons need an inspiring and level-headed commander. Or you could work with XCOM as a mission control specialist.

"Or perhaps something more civilian? I think you would make an amazing teacher. Construction crews would love to have a semblance of your caliber. Or perhaps you could lend your charisma to commentator work in the tournament circuit?"

Okay, he did put some thought into this.

He wasn't done, though. "Or maybe you want to get into politics? Your temperament, charm, and moral compass would all be invaluable for that. Bradford's gonna need diplomats when the time comes to start formal interactions between Earth and Remnant. You would be perfect for something like that, Pyr."

Jaune smiled at his partner, and put his hand on hers. "I absolutely want you to be happy, and I will do everything I can to help you achieve your goals. But even if you have to give up being a huntress, there is still so much good you can do in the world."

"Worlds," Pyrrha corrected with a smirk.

But Jaune's words still encompassed her, like a gentle blanket in the cold Atlesian night. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to fight like a true huntress again, but that prospect was a lot less scary when she considered how many people would support her in whatever endeavor she decided to pursue. Being a hero and helping the innocent was her dream. Her destiny. But until Jaune pointed it out, she hadn't really thought about the fact that one didn't need to be a huntress in order to pursue that goal.

But first they needed to beat Cinder.

With extreme prejudice.

Their dashboard pinged quietly, and an encoded message populated the comms panel. The decoder took a few moments to unscramble the communication before Pyrrha and Jaune could see what the Avenger was transmitting.

NEW INTEL. ELSA AND JADIS AT LAB TOMORROW.

Weiss and Winter were headed to Merlot's lab? But why?

"Outrider, this is Ares," Pyrrha quietly hailed, "New intel states that Elsa and Jadis will be on-site tomorrow. Repeat, Elsa and Jadis will be on-site."

"Understood, Ares."

"Outrider, this is Bull. I think we've found what we're looking for."

"All teams, regroup at FOB for change in mission parameters."

While the Reapers chattered, Pyrrha typed up an encoded response for the Avenger.

ACKNOWLEDGED. GATE IDENTIFIED.

Now that the stakes had been raised, and now that Alonso had apparently found the front door to the lab, it was time to make sure XCOM knew anything and everything about navigating this area and avoiding Merlot's security so that Gatecrasher could start off as a surprise attack.

She had a sneaking suspicion that it was going to be a long night.


Two hours left before showtime. That would mean Bradford was awake and focused, but not so wrapped up in the last-minute details that he couldn't spare to step away for a few minutes and talk with Annette.

Was she even sure she wanted to talk with him about this?

You swear you know what you're talking about, right?

Yes.

Annette caught sight of Bradford hunched over a table, let out a shaky sigh (far enough away to make sure he couldn't hear her), and approached the Central Officer.

"SitRep update on Odei," one of the operatives-turned-Mission-Control-techs called out from another part of the room.

"Any issues?" Bradford asked.

"Negative, sir," the operative responded. "We received the all-clear, indicating that she managed to move Geppetto to a nearby safehouse. She'll prep a covert extraction once the fireworks start so that she can slip him onboard without anyone noticing."

Bradford nodded. "Good. Let her know that drinks are on me once she's back aboard."

"Yes, sir."

Alright, no point in hesitating now. Annette stepped up within a yard's length of Bradford and cleared her throat.

"Central. Do you have a minute?"

Bradford turned around at the sound of Annette's voice, his face impassive to her request.

"You wouldn't ask if it wasn't important," he said. "Can you speak here, or do you require privacy?

Annette shook her head. "No, here is fine. It won't take long. Regarding the operation… from the intel we received from Elsa, it sounds like there's a good chance we'll be running into her sister."

"Correct. Which is why we're deploying several huntsmen to the field, including Branwen."

Annette hesitated. This was going to sound cocky any way she phrased it.

Ask.

She knew Asaru wasn't using a command when he said that. The fact that he trusted her to make the request using her own willpower was just as effective, however.

"I'm requesting that I be the one to engage with her, sir," she said.

Now it was Bradford's turn to hesitate. The action and activity of Mission Control flowed all around them, but Bradford kept his attention on Annette.

"My first reaction is to say 'absolutely not' and remind you that your growth as a huntress, while impressive, does not hold a candle to the refined skills of an actual Specialist." Bradford raised an eyebrow. "But we both know that your hubris melted away long ago, you are well aware of what I just said, and yet you still asked. I assume you have a reason to think you're more qualified than Qrow?"

Annette tapped her head.

Understanding dawned on Bradford's face. "Your buddy?"

Annette nodded.

"If our target is indeed controlled by one of those parasites, as the Doctors suspect, we don't know what abilities it could exert over her. And it might recognize that she has an emotional connection with Branwen, and use that to its advantage," Annette explained.

"And how does Casper play into all of this?"

"After our discovery of the Tentaculat's psionic abilities, particularly its tether to Jacques's guard…"

"... you think that the parasite Grimm might be psionically linked to a controller," Bradford guessed. "And if Casper is able to disrupt that link-"

"-or paralyze the Grimm," Annette interjected.

Bradford fell silent as he mulled over Annette's comments.

Well done.

"Request granted," Bradford said. "I'm not looking forward to breaking the news to Branwen, but you're right about him being a weakness that the parasite might try to exploit."

"Casper is confident that he can keep the parasite locked down long enough to get the target back to the Avenger so that Tygan can do his thing," Annette added. "How is that going, by the way?"

Bradford snorted. "Vahlen hasn't slept. She'll never admit it, but Shen and I are fairly certain that she lives for this kind of crunch. I'm not sure how ready the extractor will be by the time we've got patients in need of it, but it won't be for the lack of Vahlen's efforts."

"Sounds good." Annette offered a clipped salute. "I'll report back to my Strike Team now and make sure they're prepped for deployment."

"You've still got two hours," Bradford commented as Annette turned around to leave.

"The readiness is all," she answered.

Hamlet.

It's freaky that you know that.


Unbeknownst to Annette and Bradford, another pre-combat conversation was happening several hallways away. Mac dutifully followed Beagle along the length of the Avenger, curious what his superior officer and closest friend had to say. Beags had just said he needed to talk with Mac, and that was all he needed to say for the engineer to follow along. Beagle glanced around, then had the two duck into a small service room before turning to face his comrade.

"If you wanted Seven Minutes in Heaven with Mac, all you had to do was ask."

Beagle rolled his eyes.

"Believe it or not," the Captain said, "I actually pulled you over here for a serious reason."

"Alright. Hit me with it."

"I've been tasked by Bradford to be Gatecrasher's demolition expert."

"A Rocketeer as a demolitions expert? Changing your name from Captain Beagle to Captain Obvious?"

"I can be Captain Fucks Your Shit Up if you'd like."

"Alright, alright, get on with it."

Beagle sighed. "The Boss pulled me and Belladonna aside a little while ago. While the rest of you are partying with Doc Merlot and whatever defences he has, Brad's tasking me with hauling in a metric fuckton of explosives and rigging them throughout the compound to level it. Covertly, which is why Sabretooth is coming with me. You guys go loud and kick in doors, we slip in afterwards and try to stay unnoticed while we get the thing set to blow. Everyone gets out after we find what we're supposed to find. Kaboom."

"Makes sense. So why did we have to hide in a broom closet to talk about this?"

"Because I want to make sure somebody has a backup detonator if something happens to me."

MacAuley stared. "Beags, what the fuck do you mean 'if something happens to me'?"

"We don't know what we'll find in there, Mac. If something incapacitates me, I'm not letting that jeopardize the objective of levelling the fucking lab."

"That's what Sabretooth is there for!"

"Ideally, yes! What part of this are you struggling with?"

"The part where you're giving me the responsibility to push the button in a situation where you can't!" Mac said angrily.

"Mac, you promised me a long-ass time ago. You promised that you'd always have my back."

"You don't need to remind me, Beags. When have I ever reneged on that promise?"

"Never."

"Exactly." MacAuley ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Look, I know I'm probably just stressing out over nothing. But of all the contingency plans and failsafes that we've made before, they were never like this. You're making it sound like you're giving up. Almost like you're looking for an easy way to-"

"Don't say it."

The two of them fell silent, standing there staring at each other.

"You've got the thing?" Mac asked.

"Right here."

"Give it to me. And don't you dare give me a fucking reason to use it."

"I won't," Beagle said.

Without another word, the two men left the service room and headed back to rejoin their fellow Strike Five operatives.


A/N: Alright, as I mentioned before. The next chapter is not going to be released as soon as it's finished. I'm going to keep it on hold until the chapter after is also finished, so that y'all aren't left on the biggest cliffhanger of RU for more than a week. It's been a long road to get to this point. It feels weird that I'm finally here.

One more thing: it's been a while since I've had a QnA on my Discord, so I'll be running one of those a week from today. I keep it open for questions for 24 hours, and the questions range from insightful, to interesting, to absurd. If you haven't joined one yet, I highly recommend it.