Interlude 1-3: Blake's Seven
Jaune Arc was worried about Blake Belladonna.
Unfortunately, he wasn't exactly close to the raven-haired girl - he wasn't entirely certain, but he suspected he could count the number of conversations they'd shared on one hand with fingers left over - so he couldn't exactly approach her about it, which was why he was staring at his scroll, trying to compose a message to her team leader instead.
"Jaune, is something wrong?" asked Pyrrha, watching him pace about their dorm room.
The blond shook his head even as he continued fiddling with his scroll. "No, just trying to send Ruby a text message that gives away as little as possible."
Pyrrha quirked an eyebrow at that.
Jaune caught the expression and went to explain. "Well, Ruby said that Penny's been given orders from General Ironwood himself not to use the CCT, right?"
Pyrrha nodded. "That's what Ren and Nora said."
"Right. Now, the way I see it, that leaves us two possibilities." Jaune held up a finger. "Possibility one: there's something very special and highly classified that Penny of all people knows that they're worried some random hacker might find out." He held up a second finger. "Or possibility two: General Ironwood gave this order to everyone, all the way down to the academy students. Why would he do that unless he knows the CCT is compromised? And who besides the Atlesian military is best positioned to compromise the CCT? Someone Ironwood would be well-positioned to identify as having done so?"
"The SDC," Pyrrha said slowly as the scenario painted itself in her mind.
"Exactly."
Again, Pyrrha nodded. "So you're trying to send a message to Ruby that only she will understand."
Jaune pointed at her; she was quick on the uptake. "Exactly. Now, at this point, the only problems that we could run into is that either Ruby doesn't understand at all, or she betrays us."
Involuntarily, Pyrrha gave a little laugh. "I'm sorry, it's just…"
Jaune laughed as well. "Ruby betraying us. Ridiculous, right? Could you see that happening?"
Pyrrha mirthfully shook her head. "No, no I can't imagine anything like that. I trust Ruby implicitly. The idea that she would ever betray me for any reason…"
"Anyway," continued Jaune, "I think I managed to find a message that she'll actually understand, so I'll just hit send, and… we're good!"
"What did you send her a message about?" asked Pyrrha. "The real reason, I mean."
"I'm worried about Blake," he said seriously. "She's really pushing hard for us to go on this mission right now, even though it's just recon. If they were going to move it, they've already had plenty of time to do so after they shut down Blake's backdoor. It only makes sense to wait a week so that we're all together for this, but… well, you were there."
"Professor Goodwitch will be supervising the mission personally," Pyrrha reminded him. "I think she'll be able to handle any threat we're liable to face."
"Pyrrha, good tactics rely on more than just choking the enemy out with your mind and throwing them into bottomless pits," lectured Jaune goodnaturedly. Then his face fell. "Please don't tell her I said that."
The redhead's laugh sang out. "Don't worry, Jaune. I won't."
He sighed. "But anyway, it's not this mission I'm worried about. It's just… something about this whole situation really seems to have gotten to Blake. It's like she's taking it all personally. That's… I'm worried she might do something rash."
Pyrrha's eyes widened. "Blake. You think that Blake might do something rash? I'm sorry, Jaune, but that strikes me as more than a little, um, far-fetched."
"I know it sounds nuts, Pyr, but…"
Before Jaune could finish his thought, he was interrupted by his scroll ringing. He glanced at the caller ID and answered. "Hey, Ruby."
"Jaune," she said. "I got your message."
"Any thoughts?" he asked, eager for advice.
"Calm down and stop worrying?" Ruby suggested.
"Please tell me you're joking," he said, his voice flat.
"I'm serious!" she protested. "Listen, Jaune, I know you're worried she might do something like… what I did, but she won't. She's smarter than that!"
"Ruby…"
"Hear me out," she insisted. "Remember initiation?"
"Yeah?" What did that have to do with anything?
"Between the four pairs of us, who got to the temple without anyone riding a Grimm?"
Jaune opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. She… kinda had a point. Ruby and Weiss had arrived by Nevermore, he had still been clinging to the giant Death Stalker as it chased Pyrrha, and Nora had decided an Ursa made a fine steed while Ren had just been trying to keep up. That had been a very strange day.
"You know I'm right," Ruby said, interrupting his musings.
Pyrrha gave him a level stare and a slow nod.
"Okay, fine, you're right," he admitted with a sigh. To both of them. Didn't mean he'd stop worrying, though.
An awkward silence hung in the air. The conversation didn't feel over yet, but Jaune couldn't think of anything to say. He was about to ask Pyrrha if she had anything she wanted to say to Ruby when the girl on the other end of the line broke the silence.
"Jaune?" she spoke tentatively.
"Yeah?"
"Are you having a bad feeling about Blake or about this mission?"
He pursed his lips as he considered the question. He'd just told Pyrrha it wasn't the mission he was worried about, and that was true, he thought. With Miss Goodwitch coming along, they had plenty of firepower and experience, and recon was usually relatively low-risk. He'd been focused on Blake, primarily. When Ozpin had briefed them on Huntsman reports that suggested the intel from her backdoor wasn't as outdated as they'd assumed, she'd been very insistent on following up immediately, and that worried him.
"Maybe," he allowed. It was a small lie. "Something I'll have to keep in mind. Anyway, we'll be heading out pretty soon."
"Yeah, well, you be careful, all right?"
Jaune grinned, thinking back to initiation, since it was now on his mind. "Hey, you know me. 'Run and live,' remember?"
"Yeah, I remember," was Ruby's reply. "I also remember that you're the guy who went one on one with an Ursa Major with practically no actual training to protect a guy you hate."
He was losing. He was losing a petty argument to a fifteen-year-old girl. In front of Pyrrha. This was unacceptable.
"Okay, first, I don't actually hate Cardin," he stalled, "and in my defense, I had you, Weiss, and Pyrrha watching my back."
"Huh?" Ruby asked innocently. Yeah, no. He wasn't falling for that.
"What? You thought I didn't see you three lurking over there?" he reminded her, meeting Pyrrha's surprised look with a gentle glare. He wasn't the most observant guy around, but he wasn't blind either. "I think what happened the other night establishes you'd have left Pyrrha and Weiss in the dust. No way the three of you would have gotten there at the same time, just in time to see me finish it off."
"Remember, Ruby!" Pyrrha called out, an all-too-cheerful smile on her face, looking up from where she was double-checking Miló and Akoúo̱. "Five, bright and early, or I'm bringing out the airhorn!"
"Did you have to bring that up?" Ruby asked, her voice miserable.
"Yup," Jaune replied with a grin. Aha! Victory was his! His internal celebration was short-lived, however, as Pyrrha held up her arm and tapped her wrist. "Listen, I should go. Good night, Ruby."
"Good night, Jaune. Be safe."
"I will," he assured her before ending the call. He stood up and looked at Pyrrha. "All right," he said. "Let's go."
Pyrrha Nikos was not worried about Blake Belladonna.
Fortunately, she had grown rather close to Blake over the last few weeks, and so had a greater understanding of her than Jaune did, as sweet and noble as he was to worry about her. After all, it had been the unofficial ninja who'd gone and helped Pyrrha with her… issues. She had also gone and helped the cherry-haired lady refocus onto something more productive.
"Relax, you already completed the pre-flight examination," Blake reminded her, her voice calm and collected as always.
"Yes, yes, we did," Pyrrha replied with a short shifting jump in her seat.
She was located in the copilot's chair for this flight, while Blake was in the Bullhead's pilot seat. Theoretically, the black-haired girl was in control. In actual fact, she had handed the stick over to Pyrrha, and that would continue for much of the flight.
Her first real flight also had her flying into hostile territory… just another day in the life of a Huntress.
"Start take-off procedures when you're ready."
Pyrrha was still a little bit nervous, but that even and steady tone from her flight instructor put her at ease.
"Starting take-off."
They lifted into the air and, soon enough, were on their way to the designated landing zone. On their way there, the group in back busied themselves, while Blake and Pyrrha had their own focus. Flying an aircraft of any sort was simultaneously a very relaxing and very stressful venture.
In this, she greatly envied Blake. She was always so calm and collected during those moments, bringing peace to Pyrrha's own nervous disposition. Indeed, she seemed totally unflappable.
At least, she was at the beginning of the flight...
"Huh, that's strange," Blake observed out of the blue.
"What is?" asked Pyrrha, looking over the controls.
"I calculated our fuel consumption using the weights of everyone here…"
"How did you get that information?" asked Pyrrha with a blink of surprise.
"...and according to this, we're using more fuel than we should be at this stage in the journey. Internal balance sensors are reading extra weight as well," finished Blake, completely ignoring the question. "We've still got plenty enough fuel for the mission, but either we've got a leak, or we've got a stowaway."
With a call over her shoulder, Blake relayed that information to everyone else in the Bullhead. It wasn't long after that that Pyrrha heard rooting around as Glynda and the rest of Team RRANNBW - RANNB? - looked for anything strange. She didn't have to wait long for an answer.
There was a loud thud and a squawk of surprise from several voices.
"Uh, hey guys!"
That snapped Blake out of her calm. Eyes wide, she twisted around in her seat to look back into the cargo bay. She sounded both shocked and appalled. "Sun?!"
"Mister Wukong, just what do you think you're doing on this airship?" demanded Miss Goodwitch.
"Oh, you know, hanging out," he quipped in reply.
Blake, expression taking on an angry quality, began to unbuckle herself.
Pyrrha saw that and decided to reassure her. "Don't worry. I can handle the stick alone for a few minutes."
Blake paused with one buckle out, then shook her head and rebuckled herself back in. "No. I'm sorry. That would be irresponsible of me. I can't leave you alone up here."
"I really can-"
"No," Blake repeated flatly. "I was going to take over anyways. It's just that now I'll be taking over sooner. Go ahead and check on our uninvited guest."
Pyrrha nodded and disconnected herself from the copilot's station. She stepped back into the bay of the flying transport; the exterior doors were sealed to cut wind resistance, as per normal procedure on longer distance flights like this one. Professor Goodwitch and the rest of Team RRANNBW on this mission had formed a circle beneath an open panel in the ceiling, from which dangled the upper half of Sun Wukong, his legs still hidden in the maintenance space he'd apparently stowed away in.
"I'll ask this again, Mister Wukong: Why are you here?" demanded the professor, her voice clear in the sealed bay.
Sun suddenly found himself yanked from the ceiling by an invisible force and slammed into deck, then lifted and pressed against the back wall. Before him stood Professor Goodwitch, riding crop pointed at his head. She did not look happy.
The poor boy seemed to take the hint and stammered out an explanation. "Okay! Okay! I stowed away because there is something very dangerous and very weird going on."
Nora quickly glanced at the others before focusing on Sun. "What do you mean? There's nothing dangerous or weird going on here."
"Yeah," concurred Jaune with unnatural calm, so different from his normal sweet and beautiful tones that were like music upon the ears. "We're just a Beacon team out on a mission with our teacher, nothing unusual going on here."
"Perhaps you're just stressed and undergoing a form of culture shock," offered Ren. "After all, Beacon does send more of its students out on missions than any other Huntsman academy."
"There's nothing untoward going on here, Mister Wukong," agreed Miss Goodwitch. "You're just letting your nerves get to you."
Sun looked around at them, fear morphing into a sort of anger. "Oh no, don't you people gaslight me! I'm no idiot. I checked around. Teams Ruby and Juniper are always going out on missions these days, joint missions, often without a full Huntsman backing you up, both of which are pretty rare for students, even at Beacon, and none of the other first year students are going on missions yet. I even checked with the upperclassmen, and none of them pulled missions until the end of their second semester. It's just you, and I want to know why. I want to know exactly why this is happening. It's... it's insane. There's no way you're ready for anything on the board, which means this has to be important. Like, super-secret important. And I want to help."
Pyrrha smiled a well-practiced smile, one she hoped didn't come off as fake, because it wasn't. "Well, there have been some concerns about how few people we were bringing along for this," she pointed out to Miss Goodwitch.
The blonde teacher nodded, then turned towards the cockpit. "Stay here," she ordered Sun.
The scandalously clad student seemed a little off put by that, so as Miss Goodwitch left, Jaune looked at Ren and Nora and ordered, projecting an undeniable presence of authority, "Keep an eye on him."
"You got it, Fearless Leader!" Nora agreed with a cheerful salute as the two took up positions flanking the Haven student. Evidently, they remembered their prisoner handling coursework from Professor Greene's class.
Pyrrha paused before she went back to her station, turning to Sun and inquiring, "Is there anything you need Blake to know?"
"Is she mad?" he asked tentatively.
"She was not precisely in the best spirits when I last saw her, no," confirmed the champion.
"Then tell her I'm sorry," was his simple reply.
Pyrrha nodded and stepped back into the cockpit where a conversation was already in progress.
"Every person we pull into this circle is another possible weak link in the chain that the SDC could find and exploit. I recommend we turn back. For both his safety and ours," explained Miss Goodwitch.
"We don't know what we're up against," argued Jaune passionately, his voice filled with concern for the welfare of the team. "I'd rather have the extra manpower and not need it."
"Thank you," was Blake's simple response. "However, I've already made my decision. We're pressing on."
"Can you vouch for him?" asked Miss Goodwitch.
Pyrrha glided past Jaune's fair and gallant form to take her place in the copilot's seat. It was from that perspective that she saw Blake's answer. There was something off in her expression.
"Penny said he acquitted himself well in what little fighting they got up to at the docks, and he… seems to have his heart in the right place," replied Blake evenly.
"That's another thing," Jaune interjected, his voice thoughtful, confident. "He's already halfway into this. He was at the docks, and he knows about our… extra credit assignments. If he was willing to stow away on a probably dangerous mission to an unknown location to find out… what's going to stop him from continuing to dig into this?"
"A short jump and a long fall into Grimm-infested woods," deadpanned Blake in reply. Just as what she was implying registered for Pyrrha, she clarified loudly, "Which we're not going to do!"
"I should hope not," Miss Goodwitch replied dryly. "I imagine Headmaster Lionheart would be rather put out if we managed to lose one of his students."
"Then it's settled," said Blake. "We're taking Sun with us."
The professor nodded, but spoke her reply in a stern voice. "Your mission, your call, Miss Belladonna. Just remember that it's also your responsibility, and that responsibility does not always end when the mission does."
Pyrrha noticed Blake gripping her cyclic stick and thrust control lever just that little bit tighter. It was a tad unnerving to see, honestly. She, like a good friend, would have to stick by her instructor in the coming mission… unless ordered to do otherwise, for obvious reasons.
Blake answered in a controlled tone. "Believe me, Professor, I understand that very well."
Miss Goodwitch nodded, then waved into the back.
"Miss Valkyrie, please bring Mister Wukong up here."
"Yes, ma'am!" was the chipper reply.
There was a short gap of time, and then the unruly-haired blond appeared.
"Um, hi?" Sun asked from the doorway between the cockpit and cargo bay.
"Despite my misgivings, Mister Wukong," Miss Goodwitch said, "it has been decided that we will continue the mission with you."
"On these joint missions, we usually go by Team Rainbow," Jaune informed Sun warmly, offering him a strong, welcoming hand, "but we're short a couple of members tonight, so I guess… welcome to Rainbow Six?"
"More like Blake's Seven, I would say, Mister Arc," Miss Goodwitch corrected. "Considering my presence and the fact that Miss Belladonna has the lead on this mission."
"Umm, good to be here!" Sun replied, shaking Jaune's strong and calloused hand.
Well, a minor hiccup, but it seemed like things were going swimmingly.
Contrary to popular belief, Lie Ren was not a ninja. It was an understandable mistake, but he'd never received any training from any accredited ninja school, and Atlas Academy's ninja program was quite new. No formal training, that is...
He had, in fact, had some training in the art of ninjutsu. Nora had too, for that matter. However, his ginger-haired companion had found many of the lessons harder to grasp than he had.
That was the way of life though. He was good at the things she stumbled in, and she excelled where he faltered. Theirs was a balanced partnership, worked out throughout the long years spent by each other's side as the sole survivors of Kuroyuri.
Of course, this time, it was not Nora who was by his side.
"I've got a visual on the target," reported Blake.
After more than a day of hiking, they had finally reached the perimeter of their target, and if they needed any confirmation that this was an active site, they found it in spades. There were automated turrets and sensors everywhere, most of them concealed. In the distance, the sound of engines of various types could occasionally be heard, and once or twice mixed among them was a cracking sonic boom.
"I see it too," replied Ren.
The target, as it happened, was one of the less concealed turrets, a machine gun tower that idly swept its gaze across the terrain. The fact that the terrain happened to be thick forest made Ren doubtful that it could be very effective. Those doubts were wiped away however when he saw the turret transform from a machine gun tower into a multiple launch system and unleash a salvo of micro missiles swirling around to obliterate a stray Creep. That was... odd.
Through the judicious sacrifice of one of Blake's clones, they were able to approach the turret safely. The turret's access panel itself was a chore to get open only because it was meant for someone much much larger than they; they'd had to wedge Gambol Shroud under the lip and pull on the ribbon for additional leverage. There wasn't even a lock. Sloppy.
Looking inside the now open turret, Ren couldn't help but think back to their stealth and securities class. Blake seemed a natural adept at quite literally everything Professor Greene could throw at them, and more than once over the semester, the whole class had been forced to do something insane just so that their teacher could try to stump the monochromatic bookworm. It never worked, and eventually, she had stopped trying.
What was inside this though… surely, even Blake would be stumped by this, right?
The circuitry seemed conventional enough, albeit with pathing and tracery Ren didn't recognize, but glowing tubes sprawled all throughout, splitting off and branching out into tiny tendrils that sank into the circuit boards, which in turn glowed as if backlit.
"Is that… energon?" Blake asked, eyebrows raised. "Why would they use that to power something as basic as a perimeter turret?"
"A perimeter turret they saw fit to invest transformation capability into," Ren reminded her. "I'm more concerned about the power feed's design. It almost looks like…"
"Blood vessels," she finished for him. "What is going on here?"
"I don't know," confirmed Ren as he pulled out his scroll and took a snapshot of the circuitry; it might be worth analyzing later, "but we're still going to need to get past this somehow."
Blake stared at the guts of the turret for a few moments, her brow knotted into concentration, and then she acted. "Okay, I should be able to set up a sensor loop that will let us pass."
Ren stared at her as she began to work. "You can?"
"It will only be for a short time, but that might be for the best, because then the SDC won't get suspicious when their turrets fail to stop any Grimm," she explained easily. She pointed at one particular circuit board near the edge of the panel. "The main data feed is running through a standard SDC Class A security board. They're not too different from the Class Bs Professor Greene's been having us practice on."
Ren blinked, trying to figure out what Blake's definition of "not too different" was. "I see," he said, not meaning it at all.
"Now, if it was a Class J, then we might have had a little bit of trouble," Blake continued before the backlighting of the turret's innards turned green for some arcane reason. "There. The rest should be good to pass this one now, at least for a few minutes. We should let them know."
"And then on to the next, I suppose," agreed Ren.
On and on they went, leapfrogging from turret to turret until eventually they reached a partially concealed ventilation duct. There, as before, Blake was able to somehow disable any sensors that might have been on it. Unlike before, it was Professor Goodwitch that took the lead in lowering them down into the bowels of the enemy facility with her semblance.
He had to admit, to himself if no one else, that he was beginning to feel a bit useless. He had to do more. Perhaps not on this mission - that would be foolhardy - but when they returned to Beacon, he would have to hit the books to broaden his skillset. He couldn't let the others down because he didn't know enough.
"These vents are crazy," said Arc as they walked along as quietly as they could. The vents in question were dark but spacious, easily tall enough for even the largest students at Beacon to walk through two abreast with room to spare. The air in the ducts was uncomfortably warm, as though it was intended more for heat exchange than air circulation.
"No arguments there, Mister Arc, but try to keep the chatter to a minimum," ordered Glynda as she followed Belladonna.
Following Belladonna. Now that wasn't something she had ever anticipated doing when the semester had started, but that was the way it turned out. That young woman running from her sordid past had turned out to be a trusted colleague and compatriot. Trusted, at least, from a distance.
This mission was the first time she was really getting to see the members of Team RRANNBW - well, most of them - cut loose, and to see what their characters were truly made of under stress. That second part was perhaps the most important. She'd seen them all in class and in mission briefings, yes, but apart from Ruby, she had yet to get a deep read on any of their characters.
All of that said, it perhaps would have been wiser to have her in charge. After all, she was their teacher. However, it was abundantly clear that things had progressed far beyond the point of any of Team RRANNBW needing adult supervision. They were working on their own, acting on their own… and frankly, Belladonna was the best infiltration specialist they had. Plus, from what Glynda had read in her file, she wasn't completely inexperienced when it came to leadership either.
She was broken out of her thoughts by Belladonna holding up a clenched fist. They all stopped their trek and paused. Their leader seemed to twitch, and then she spoke softly.
"Something's coming. Sounds like a mech? No, something's off."
Glynda strained her own ears to hear and quickly found it. There were large metal footsteps walking. Their cadence sounded little different from a human's footsteps, as if it was just a big person in metal boots.
Belladonna motioned them through the ventilation shaft, down one turn then another. In due time, they found themselves near a vent, but this one led into a dark, quiet room. It seemed like the perfect place to get out and look around.
They were disabused of that notion quickly when, all of a sudden, a door parted, and the lights came on. In light so bright they had to squint, they now saw clearly that the room was piled high with metal crates. A few of the crates had been stacked in such a way that they seemed to create a massive table and set of chairs.
It was into this room that stepped something that absolutely took their breath away and drove them into dead silence.
"Did you remember the cards?" an annoyed male voice asked.
"Yeah, yeah, I remembered the cards!" complained a second, gruffer voice.
There was the heavy banging of metal against metal, and into view stepped a massive thing. It was black, it was purple, it was gray, it was made of metal, and it very loosely resembled a human fit to the massive scale of the room. Glynda had seen first-hand some of the larger mechs produced by Atlas, and this robotic construct would have towered over most of them, though its comparatively slender build made judging relative mass difficult. An android would have moved with a certain efficient grace, focused toward whatever singular purpose it was set to, but this machine meandered, moving with the careless, wasteful motions of a person.
On further thought, comparing the shape to a human was, perhaps, an error. The cannons mounted to the upper arms were an obviously martial addition to whatever base it had been modeled after, but also, a pair of rigid, almost vestigial-looking fins or wings emerged from its back past its shoulders. Perhaps it was modeled after a bird faunus? And on those wings… on those wings were emblazoned the angular purple face-like insignia Team RRANNBW had recorded on their first mission.
Most curiously, though, was the fact that it had a face, one that moved with natural-looking expressions as it talked. Projecting realistic emotions onto a hologram or screen was one thing, but to do so on a physical face? What would have been the point?
"See, what did I tell you? No one here," the massive robot said with that same gruff voice and an expression of satisfaction.
"Good, 'cause the last thing I need is another lecture from our oh-so-great air commander about wasting resources," said the other voice, and as the first robot stepped deep into the room, his fellow followed.
The two were remarkably similar, both having a distinctly humanoid shape with fins coming out of their backs that almost looked like the wings on some faunus. There were differences though. Color was the most noticeable one, with the second being white, black, and red. Another distinct difference was the shape of the head, with the second robot's head tapering to a conical peak.
"Oh, don't remind me. Do you know what it's like to be assigned to a research station with him for five hundred solar cycles, Ramjet?" asked the first robot as he walked over to one of the crates and sat down.
The second robot, presumably Ramjet, carried over three energon cubes in his hands and placed them on the crate they were clearly using as a table. "Oh, I can only imagine, Skywarp, and that's enough." He frowned. "Wait, Remnant solar cycles or Cybertronian solar cycles?"
"Cybertronian," clarified 'Skywarp.'
"Yecch." Ramjet shuddered theatrically.
"Three games with an energon cube each as the prize?" Skywarp asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Sounds good to me," replied Ramjet as he sat down on the opposite crate.
"I'll deal then," said Skywarp as he drew forth from a hidden compartment a giant deck of cards, scaled for the two robots.
As Skywarp was shuffling, Ramjet grew quiet while looking at the cubes before making a comment. "Hate being stuck on a planet with only this synthetic stuff. I don't care what Nickel says, I can taste the difference. It's pink, for Primus's sake."
"Some natural energon would be nice," concurred Skywarp. "Just so long as it isn't the purple drek. Spent way too long poking at that to be healthy. You know, I remember back before the civil war, when whole rivers of the all-natural blue stuff flowed across Cybertron."
"Think the homeworld's still there?" asked Ramjet quietly.
"Got to be. I don't even want to think about the alternative," replied Skywarp, dealing the cards. "Because that would mean Unicron's real, awake, and hungry. Even if he isn't, stuck on this backwards planet with the humans for the next ten million years, or however long it takes before I blow my own processor out?" He held up a hand, pointing the index and middle finger at the side of his head like a pistol, then rocked it back as if mimicking recoil. "No thank you."
It was then that Glynda saw Belladonna begin to move further down the vent, and she and the rest of Blake's Seven made to follow. Once they were some distance away, Wukong evidently felt it necessary and safe to speak. They could still hear the banging of more metal footsteps in the distance.
"Giant alien robots?!" he hissed. "You guys just said we were going up against the SDC. You never said anything like this was going on!"
"We didn't know any of this was going on," pointed out Ren, and then he looked at Glynda. "Did we?"
She saw the others looking at her and shook her head. "No, we did not. I can assure you that if either Professor Ozpin or myself had the slightest clue about any of this, you would have been informed."
"Well," Arc said breathlessly. "Can I just take this moment to point out that I was right about the aliens?"
"You can," allowed Valkyrie with a slight pout.
"Alien robots…" Belladonna murmured. "Maybe the SDC isn't involved after all."
Glynda arched an eyebrow as the rest of the team stared at her in surprise.
Arc, thankfully, kept his head enough to ask a pertinent question: "Do we turn back then? Or do we press on?"
"We press on," said Belladonna. "We still don't have a good layout of the facility, and… you all saw it. The horrors of that slave facility? That symbol we found plastered everywhere? They were wearing it. Whatever happened there, it's a good bet they're either connected or directly responsible. We can't give up now."
With that inspiring speech out of the way, they continued on.
Soon enough, though, they would find themselves at another section of the ventilation system. It was there that Belladonna's theory was quickly disproven. Her hand gripped Gambol Shroud, and her whole body tensed.
"Miss Belladonna," Glynda warned, her voice low but clear.
The temporary team leader forcibly relaxed, letting go of her weapon, and offered Glynda a grateful look and a nod.
"Come on, move it!" cried a very distinctly human foreman in the white uniform of an SDC employee.
There were half a dozen of them at least, all directing androids taking crates out of the back of a massive transport airship. There was another stack of crates nearby, and it looked like they were being readied to be loaded onboard. That removed all doubt; the Schnee Dust Company was collaborating with giant talking alien robot-... Glynda decided then and there that she would need a long time alone with a bottle of her favorite wine when she got home.
It was into that scene that another of those giant robots sauntered. Shaped much like the first one they saw earlier, but this one was blue, light-gray, and red. He approached the SDC personnel with ease and confidence, and they in turn regarded him with what looked from their vantage point as forced corporate cheer.
"I trust everything is in order?" the robot asked conversationally, his voice oozing a weaselly charm.
"Yep, just finishing up dropping off the dust for the trade," replied the foreman. "Those the containers with the energon cubes?"
"Of course," confirmed the robot. "After all, I, Air Commander Starscream of the Decepticon Seeker Corps, always deliver only the best in quality."
"I can see why the other guys couldn't stand him," muttered Valkyrie into Ren's ear.
There was the shifting of a door opening, and suddenly, there was a second robot stepping into the room. He was slightly smaller and shaped far differently than the others. He had no wings, for one thing, but what looked like wheels on his arms and shoulders instead. He also seemed quite irate.
"Starscream!" he called out.
The air commander turned to look at him, a forced smile plastered on his face. "Barricade! What a pleasant surprise… I'm in the middle of something, can it wait?"
"No," Barricade replied bluntly.
Starscream turned back to the SDC foreman with that same forced smile. "Could you give us a minute?"
"Take as much time as you need," replied the foreman.
"Thank you," said Starscream before walking over to Barricade and taking him by the shoulder to some other hallway.
Belladonna motioned to point out the track of the ventilation shaft and how one of its branches followed along to much the same point as where the two robots where going. They all nodded, and they made their way as quickly as they dared. The conversation was still in its early stages when they arrived.
"...I'm telling you, you can't underestimate them!" barked Barricade.
"And I'm telling you that you're delusional," replied Starscream. "We Decepticons cannot be defeated by mere humans."
"Faunus," corrected Barricade.
"Pardon?" asked Starscream, clearly thrown off guard.
"Faunus," Barricade repeated. "Some humans on this world don't like being called humans. They prefer the word 'faunus.'"
"Whyever for?" was Starscream's confused reply. "They're all from the same planet, they can all interbreed, they're all the same species. How would they even tell a… a 'faunus' apart from any other human?"
Belladonna's eye began twitching.
"Apparently… it's the kibble," explained Barricade, though the uncertainty was clear in his voice. "Near as I can tell, these 'faunus' have them, and other humans don't."
"That is the most preposterous thing I've heard since coming to this wretched, monster-infested mudball," deadpanned Starscream. "Even more preposterous than the idea that any of them could be a military threat to us."
"You faced off against MECH; you should know very well that their guns still hurt," said Barricade seriously.
"Pfft!" Starscream blew off dismissively. "That only proved that those green and grey buffoons fell before me like everyone else."
That got all of their attention. So, they finally had a name to put to their mysterious assailants. MECH… and they weren't the same faction as the actual mechs? Glynda was definitely going to need a drink after this.
"It's not just them, though. I'm telling you, there's a small, well-coordinated team running around after us. They're hiding in the shadows, just waiting to strike when the time is right," warned Barricade with dire seriousness.
Glynda could feel sweat beading up at the back of her neck and slipping down her spine at that. The rest of the group seemed to have similar reactions. The fear and tension hung in the air like a heavy fog, and then the air commander broke it.
"HA!" guffawed Starscream. "Do you even listen to yourself? You sound like a conspiracy theorist going on about the scary humans lurking in the dark. You've definitely taken far too many knocks to the head."
"I'm not paranoid," growled Barricade.
"You are," replied Starscream. "In truth, Barricade, these humans can only be a threat to us politically. Like that fool Ironwood."
James? thought Glynda, her breath catching in her throat.
"Sir?" blinked Barricade, confused.
"No doubt this 'strike team' you've seen hints of are his attempts at gathering intelligence on me to ingratiate himself with Lord Megatron," explained Starscream patiently. "Remember that false flag attempt on the SDC Vale Headquarters?" He snorted. "Attempting to blame some two-bit terrorist organization like the White Fang, while obviously employing Atlesian ninjas for the task? He underestimates me with such a thinly-disguised effort. He will have to try better than that to get my job!"
"But-"
"I've had enough of your prattling, Barricade. Stop inventing threats to excuse your failures!"
Glynda was seeing red. James? Involved with these… these… she had seen the footage, even the stuff the students hadn't mentioned. Indeed, she'd visited the site herself, when time had permitted, and seen there the mass graves of so many hastily buried. These… Decepticons had committed unspeakable acts of horror, and James was involved with them? He was involved enough to be part of their politics?!
She clenched her hands into fists as an ephemeral force reached out from her to shake the world around them. The bolts began to rattle, and the metal creaked. It was beginning to make noise.
A soft and noble hand reached out and gripped her own. She looked and saw Belladonna shaking her head. The quaking stopped.
"What was that?" asked Barricade, looking around. He'd heard them.
"Nothing but more of your paranoid delusions, Barricade," mocked Starscream. "I didn't notice anything, and since nothing is stealthy enough to get past my keen observational skills, the only logical conclusion… is that you're losing it."
"Gah! Forget it!" said Barricade. "I'll track these people down myself!"
It was then when something truly incredible happened. Barricade... transformed, changing from a robot into an exact replica of a Vale Police Department cruiser. The only minor difference was the presence of a small copy of the icon that all the Decepticons apparently wore.
He drove off with a squeal of tires then, but Starscream couldn't resist a parting shot. "I'm still in command!"
Blake's Seven was off after that, following the vents wherever they might lead next. And the whole time, Glynda's mind was awash with the stench of betrayal. She didn't know when it would happen, but she would have a reckoning with James Ironwood.
Her life, once again, had a focus and certainty.
Contrary to popular belief, Nora Valkyrie could be stealthy. Granted, she generally made an effort to be as loud and visible as possible, but as a homeless orphan, she'd learned even before the fall of Kuroyuri that it was usually better to be ignored than to draw attention to herself. The hardships that came after, when she and Ren had had no one they could rely on but each other, had only sharpened that lesson.
So by the time they got to Beacon, she was thoroughly tired of being ignored. It didn't mean she forgot how.
There were others who disagreed, of course. Renny, obviously, preferred to be unobtrusive, and Blakey seemed similar, but where Renny was laid back, Blake was almost aggressively quiet and withdrawn - most of the time - which meant she and Nora didn't really spend a lot of time together outside missions.
Tonight, though, as she led the team through the secret evil lair, she was moving with a purpose. This was obviously pretty personal to Blake, and frankly, Nora could understand why. Jauney was worried about her - bless his heart - but sometimes, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
After the… unsettling scene in the airship bay, the search for more intel - usable intel - continued, but something was different. There was a tension in the group, as though they were suddenly on a time limit, even though, objectively, nothing had really changed.
Their journey through the labyrinthine vents led them to a promising location, some sort of computer room. The only problems were the sheer scale of it and the robot that monitored it. This one was a bit smaller than the ones they'd seen before, with dark blue plating, a jet black head, and a sinister red visor in place of eyes. He also had wheels on his shoulders, which suggested he probably turned into a car like Barricade.
That red visor, though, looked up, and Nora's own eyes widened as she locked gazes with the robot through the ventilation grate.
Crap.
His head turned slightly, scanning the grate and looking at the rest of Blake's Seven. The movements of his head was subtle, but she could tell, as he looked at them, pausing to examine each of them in turn.
Then, he spoke.
"Counterpunch to Starscream, I'm going to make a quick perimeter check." He paused. Whatever reply he received was thankfully inaudible. "The central computer is in the middle of the hidden, underground facility, sir. I'm sure it can survive unmolested for the, hmm, twenty minutes it'll take for me to check potential entry points." He paused again. "Counterpunch out."
After plugging what looked like a flash drive into the console and typing some commands into the computer, the robot - Counterpunch - pointedly left the room.
After a moment, Nora realized no one else was moving. She looked over at Blake. "Umm, are we not going to take that open invitation?"
"Invitation'?" Blake echoed. "You think he saw us?"
"I know he saw us," Nora corrected. "Now, come on! Time's a-tickin'!" Without further ado, she kicked the vent open and dropped down.
Fifteen minutes later, Miss Goodwitch was levitating them back into the ventilation shaft, the flash drive - scaled for the Decepticons - strapped to Nora's back.
"Now, we just need to get out of here," Nora declared triumphantly as she held the grate closed for Miss Goodwitch to resecure the bolts. "Or smash the whole place apart. I'm game either way."
"I'm not sure leaving the turrets on was that good an idea!" Jaune shouted as the aforementioned turrets thundered, sending missiles, lasers, bullets, and several other, less identifiable projectiles through the air around them.
The return to the Bullhead should have been simple. Blake could bypass and temporarily disable the perimeter turrets, this time without even having to close through their field of fire. After that it would be just a simple, day-long hike. However, this was Remnant.
So naturally, the Grimm had to complicate things.
Fortunately, the turrets were prioritizing the Grimm, but the team was still in the line of fire, and the turrets were being rather indiscriminate.
"Would you rather we fight the Grimm on our own?!" Blake retorted.
"Better than being shot in the back!"
If this was what Beacon students got up to, Sun was glad he'd chosen to go to Haven. Things were much calmer there. And everything generally wasn't exploding.
Such thoughts were for later, though. At the moment, he was dividing his attention between not getting shot or eaten and watching Blake. She was poetry in motion as she darted back and forth, slinging out with Gambol Shroud to impale a Beowolf that happened to have a particularly sturdy oak between it and the turrets, before drawing it back, switching configurations, and opening fire on a pair of Creeps slinking low to the ground.
Man, he loved a woman who could kick butt. The advice Mr. Xiao Long had given him echoed in his mind. Or rather, an errant comment he'd made about mysterious, dark-haired girls who could absolutely kill you if they wanted to being super hot.
He couldn't exactly argue with that.
Still, there was more to Blake than just her combat prowess. Or the whole "dark, mysterious" vibe she had going.
She was hurting inside. He could tell. And he wanted to help her, just like he'd helped Yang.
Well, okay, perhaps a bit differently than how he'd helped Yang.
It was hard to imagine someone like Blake running away, though, regardless of how eerily accurate Mr. Xiao Long's other guesses had been. What would make someone so capable, so self-confident, run away? He couldn't think of anything… except, perhaps, whatever it was she was keeping bottled up inside.
Suddenly, he was jostled out of his thoughts as something wrapped around his wrist and yanked him aside, moments before a missile barrage passed through where he'd been standing a moment ago.
He blinked up at his savior, the sun behind Blake's head giving her the illusion of a halo, as though she were an angel descending from heaven.
"My hero!" he proclaimed dramatically, clutching his hands over his heart.
"Hmph," she snorted, then unceremoniously dropped him to the ground.
He still thought she'd look better without the bow.
Blake stood stiffly before Ozpin's desk, taking point in front of the rest of the group. She had been in command; this was her rightful place. She'd gotten them into that mess, and now, she had to face the lashes so that they didn't have to.
"I apologize for the outcome of the mission, sir," she said respectfully. In the end, after all, she'd chosen to run, like she always had. Whatever excuses she made about the value of the information they'd acquired… that didn't change the fact that she'd ordered them to retreat, leaving the enemy to continue their misdeeds unpunished.
Ozpin raised an eyebrow over his spectacles. "Explain."
Blake felt her throat tightening but pressed on. Her burden to bear. Her burden to bear. Her burden to bear.
"Sir, the enemy base is still intact, and we were only able to partially get any usable data," she said, reporting her failure.
Ozpin smiled at that. "So, what you're saying is that you've confirmed the location of an enemy stronghold, gathered intelligence from that stronghold, discovered the identity of not one but two of our enemies, confirmed the SDC is involved with the Decepticons, found a possible asset within the enemy ranks, and gotten back to base without losing a single one of your team. Miss Belladonna, if this is what you consider a defeat, then I cannot wait to see you deliver a victory."
Blake stiffened again. "But we haven't gotten any usable evidence that can connect the SDC to the slave factories. They were just standing there, doing completely above the board trading. There was nothing that they could be convicted on. And the data from the computer…"
Blake merely gestured to the gigantic flash drive sitting off to the side, the Decepticon logo on it about as big as her head.
The headmaster looked at it before shaking his head and turning back to her. "Putting together jigsaw puzzles and watching crime dramas, two things I must remember to never do with you, Miss Belladonna. Yes, you might not have gotten everything you needed at that moment, but you have gotten many other things. Those clues that you've discovered will lead to further events which will unravel this mystery, and the data will be invaluable once we construct a way to access it. It's frustrating. I know it is. I know because I've been in the same position you're in right now more times than I can count.
"You see an injustice, you know it must be undone, but something is stopping you from doing it. You can't go around it, you can't go through it, and you're forced to just wait for it to pass while searching for some route you might have missed. It's not easy, but sometimes, it's the only thing we can do."
As Ozpin concluded his speech, Blake found herself flushing between a myriad of different emotions. Hurt, embarrassment, anger, shame, frustration, outrage, and more. He could obviously see it.
"Take some rest, Miss Belladonna, consult with your teammates. There will be another mission, soon enough."
Blake nodded, and the debriefing continued. She wasn't really into it, but she still listened and catalogued everything she could. She wouldn't let them down again; she couldn't.
It was later when they had left that Blake ran into something quite surprising.
"Hey, Bookworm, how's it going?" said Nora as she bounded up to her. Remarkably, Ren was nowhere in sight.
"Good," she answered evenly.
"I bet," concurred the ginger, getting rather serious after that. "Listen, Blake, I know we're not the closest of teammates. In fact, some could argue that outside of missions, we barely spend any time at all with each other."
"Harsh, but accurate," admitted Blake.
"Doesn't matter though," said Nora with a shake of her head. "I'm still your teammate. If you've got issues, I've got a shoulder to cry on and an arm to beat on."
Blake shook her head. "I don't think that will be necessary," she put her hand out to Nora's shoulder. "But thank you, all the same."
"Anytime," Nora said before putting her own hand out to grasp Blake's shoulder and giving it an experimental squeeze. "Hmm, scratch that."
"What?" asked Blake with worry.
"You got too much flab," said Nora seriously. "It's time to work that out."
It turned out to be an enlightening experience for Blake, several experiences actually. Nora had decided to go and make their work out sessions a regular thing, and oftentimes, other members of the team would be roped in as well. Heck, even Sun had joined in a few times, and that… well, she wasn't blind, after all.
She was getting back to her dorm after one of those sessions and a trip to the showers when the good mood that had settled in was swept out by an entirely different set of emotions.
"Weiss, you're back early." She cocked her head curiously. "What are you doing?"
Author's Note 1 (Cody MacArthur Fett):
This chapter was a bit of a pain to write and edit.
Author's Note 2 (Cyclone):
No kidding, it was a bear to write. Still, we did have some fun with it.