Interlude 1-4: Cold

Lonely.

Weiss Schnee, heiress to the wealthiest, most powerful corporation on Remnant… was lonely.

It was actually a familiar feeling, an almost perversely comforting constant throughout her childhood. Growing up surrounded by a sea of people willing - or paid - to do her bidding, if anything, had made it worse. Yet now, the feeling stung harsher than it ever had before.

Perhaps it was because she'd had a taste of freedom, of friendship that wasn't tainted or overshadowed by her wealth or name, and maybe… the promise of something more.

She brushed her fingers across her forehead, a featherlight touch that echoed something else, then shook her head clear, pausing to look at her hands. They were wet, her normally pale skin flushed red with mild irritation from scrubbing. She pushed the spring-loaded lever on the faucet, starting the water flowing again, but stopped before immersing her hands in the stream again.

No, Jaune was right. She had to stop doing this. She pulled some paper towels and gently dried her hands, resisting the urge to scrub them again, before exiting the aircraft's bathroom and returning to her seat.

She wished Winter were here. She'd know what to do.

But she wasn't. So Weiss banished the pointless thought from her mind and turned to stare out the window at the ocean passing far below.

This wasn't an airship, not exactly. The word being bandied around was "airplane," something about how it used its wing shape and immense speed to achieve additional lift beyond what the gravity dust lift engines supplied. The high-speed Accord air liner - named for the Vytal Accords - was one of the latest innovations to be churned out by Schnee Heavy Industries, a wholly-owned subsidiary of the Schnee Dust Company. The Accord relied on sheer speed to evade Grimm attacks, able to break the speed of sound with jet turbines that burned a mix of combustion dust and air.

It was clean, it was fast, it was yet another symbol of the SDC's economic and technological might.

It made her wonder once again where all this technology was coming from. Her father's mysterious business partners? Who were they, and why was so much slaughter required as a sacrifice for these baubles?

Vendetta.

She had sworn vengeance against her father that day when she had first explored that data from Blake's intrusion into the SDC's Vale Regional Headquarters. She had said it once, and then never explained it. Yang's arrival had thankfully prevented her from having to do so, and no one had ever brought the subject back up again.

She had to figure out a plan of action. First, she had to make good on her word to file the paperwork to cover Ruby's medical bills. She had the necessary paperwork from Mr. Xiao Long, and a quick stop by the SDC's legal department should take care of that.

Second… information. She'd start at Atlas Academy. The odds of finding anything useful there were slim, but it was certainly a better place to start than the alternatives. Security was relatively light, and she still had a few people she was fairly certain would call her "friend" there, whereas getting access to files from the SDC directly, while certainly possible, would raise suspicions she wouldn't be able to allay. Trying to get information from the Atlesian military would almost certainly be a suicidal exercise in futility... unless she could get in touch with Winter, but she had no idea where her older sister was assigned right now.

From there… well, from there, she'd have to wing it, depending on what she found out and where that information led.

I hope Winter is home, she thought. Her sister had always been there for her before, and she had contacts and access to resources far beyond anything within Weiss's reach.

"And there you go, Miss Schnee. It's all been filed. Those medical bills will be taken care of by the end of the next business day."

"Excellent, Mister Redding," Weiss said with a well-practiced smile.

"If I may ask, Miss Schnee," Redding said. "This all seems… highly unusual..." he trailed off meaningfully.

"Oh, I just happened to be home for the break," Weiss replied, waving it off, "and I do so worry about my team leader sometimes. I wanted to get this little matter expedited and make sure it didn't get lost in the shuffle. You know how paperwork can… disappear into the bureaucracy sometimes."

"Completely understandable, Miss Schnee," Redding replied with an ingratiating smile and nod. "Was there anything else I could help you with?"

"No, thank you. Have a good day, Mister Redding."

"And you as well, Miss Schnee."

With that, Weiss stepped out of the SDC's legal offices, humming a little tune to herself as she made her way to the motorpool. That was one task done. Now, she needed to go do some digging.

Atlas Academy was as impressive as ever, but Weiss paid little attention to the grounds. Her focus was solely on the mission and her objective. She found her contact easily enough for that task.

Moderate violet eyes behind bookish glasses widened in surprise and joy. The figure jumped up with hand raised, waiving Weiss down while her violet, moderate sapphire blue, and brilliant rose colored hair bounced in its bun. The cry of excitement mimicked the rest of her features.

"Weiss! Weiss! Over here!"

A practiced smile formed on the snowcapped girl's face as she walked over to the slightly older girl in the Atlas Academy uniform.

"Twilight!" Weiss said appreciatively as she hugged her opposite, being careful to avoid the pack on her back.

"It's good to see you again, Weiss! It's been years," said Twilight as she pulled back to examine the heiress.

"It certainly hasn't dulled your exuberance," said Weiss.

"Well, you know what they say, friendship is magic," she said with a strange, embarrassed grin and a shrug that seemed to point at herself.

"Quite," agreed Weiss, though despite her smile, her heart wasn't in it. She and Twilight were more along the lines of acquaintances than real friends. Two young girls of similar age, though a year apart, in the same Atlesian high society circles? They were bound to run into each other, but Weiss's heart had never been committed, and her schedule had certainly left little room for making friendships that weren't politically advantageous.

Still, Twilight evidently was the friendly sort.

"Say, why did you say you needed my help?" asked Twilight.

"I need to access records pertaining to missions and finances," answered Weiss.

Twilight blinked. "That's… oh dear. You do know that a lot of that stuff is above my clearance level, right?"

"I'm not talking about the classified stuff, Twilight. I'm just talking about what you don't move off campus that's still unclassified," elaborated Weiss.

Twilight perked up at that. "Ah! I should be able to help you with that then. If you'll just follow me, we'll head to the archives. The, uh, computer archives, that is… unless you want to go to the physical archives, though! Lots of amazing older data there."

Weiss smiled politely at the older girl's extremely enthusiastic expression as they began to walk along. "I'm more concerned with data of the last two years, sadly. So let's stick to the digital archives."

"Right. Right! Of course," agreed Twilight nervously, picking up the pace slightly.

"Hey, Magic, stop walking so casually; it's suspicious," chimed in a slick feminine voice from up ahead.

Weiss looked and found three girls heading towards them. They were all dressed in the Academy's uniform and had brightly-colored hair. Most distinctively, one had glasses, one had goggles, and one had what looked like computers worn like bracers.

Twilight slowed down and her gait took on the distinctive graceful poise of Atlesian high society.

"Better, but still incredibly out of place," said in the one with glasses.

"Yo, Magic, who's your friend?" asked the goggled girl.

Twilight paused and turned to introduce them. "Weiss, these are my teammates, Radstorm," she pointed at the girl with the computers for bracelets, "Straight Shooter," she pointed at the girl with glasses, "and Daiku," she pointed at the girl with goggles. "They're my colleagues on Team Fairstar, spelled F.I.S.T. and yes, we have heard the jokes. We've heard all the jokes."

Weiss curtsied slightly at the trio now arrived. "Weiss Schnee. Pleased to meet you."

Radstorm cupped her chin thoughtfully. "Weiss Schnee, huh? I think I heard about you. You're a big time singer, right? Any relation to the SDC Schnees?"

Weiss, pleased at the inquiry, nodded. "The founder, Nicholas Schnee, is my grandfather. And I used to sing a bit, yes, but I'm training to be a Huntress at Beacon Academy now."

"Smart career move. The singing really didn't work with your voice," said Straight Shooter with all the tact of a drunk Goliath falling into a china shop.

Weiss boggled at that. "Excuse me?"

"You were overhyped compared to vocalists like Jem, and the instrumentation in your songs always clashed with your costumes and tone," she elaborated in monotone.

Before Weiss could sputter a response, Twilight took her hand and began dragging her down the hall. "Okay, it was great seeing you, be back later, bye!"

Radstorm called out after her. "Remember, Magic, you still have to pack before the move to Beacon!"

"I will!" called back Twilight.

When they were some distance away and down another hall, they adopted a more relaxed walk.

"Sorry about that. Straight has always been a bit… tactless," explained Twilight apologetically. "She just doesn't sugarcoat her words at all, ironically."

"'Always'? 'Ironically'?" Weiss asked. "You've known her for a while then?"

"Oh yes, me and the rest of Team Fairstar were classmates back at Crystal Preparatory Combat Academy," she elaborated. "She's the S in our name, and that's because her real name is…" she trailed off.

Weiss looked at her and noticed the slight blush. "Well?"

"It's just that her real name is Sugarcoat!" Twilight gasped. "There! I just came out and said it. Straight's real name is Sugarcoat, and she never sugarcoats anything. It's horribly ironic, and we all know it."

The snowcapped girl raised an eyebrow at her embarrassed counterpart, and then grew a smile. "So, why do they call you Magic?"

Twilight regained some of her poise and then straighten up. "Because any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic!" she announced proudly. She then quietly muttered under her breath, so softly Weiss almost didn't hear, "Also, I may have a bit of an obsession with the occult."

"What was that?" she asked.

Twilight perked up once more with an extremely fake-looking smile. "I said it's good to see you again, Weiss!"

Weiss blinked once. "You said that when we first met five minutes ago."

"...So I did," the Atlesian student admitted after a long pause where it looked like she was recalling her own memory.

Callsigns were such a curious new trend at Atlas, one that Weiss was honestly glad hadn't caught on at Beacon. She mentally shuddered at the thought of what sort of callsign she might receive. The thought of being known by the public at large as "Weiss Queen" or "Snow Angel" was too terrible to consider.

Soon after, they came upon a door marked for the archives, and Twilight held up her scroll to unlock it before the pair slipped in. Beyond the portal, they found two rows of computers, and it didn't look like anyone was around. That was perfect for Weiss's needs.

"Well, here we are," said Twilight. "In retrospect, not going to the physical archives was a good call. They moved that building down to the ground a few decades ago, after all."

"Thank you, Twilight," said Weiss as she took one of the seats and began booting up the computer's holographic screen.

She had barely gotten around to pulling up a query for the records she was interested in before her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Twilight opening her backpack.

"There you go, Spike. I bet it was getting cramped in there," she cooed, receiving a short bark in reply.

Eyes wide, Weiss looked over at her fellow and saw her kneeling on the floor with an adorable little dog sitting in front of her. Her breath caught in her throat, and the two turned to look at her. The snowcapped girl cursed internally; she had been made.

Twilight looked at her with worried compassion. "Oh, I'm sorry, do you not like dogs? Are you allergic? If it's a problem, I can…"

"No!" interrupted Weiss forcefully, startling them. "I mean… can I pet him?"

Twilight perked up at that and waved her over. "Sure! Just be gentle now."

Weiss got off her seat and crouched down in front of Twilight. The dog seemed to know what was happening and turned his head and leaned over with the most adorable widdle smile she had ever seen… well, okay, it wasn't that long ago that Zwei was getting belly rubs from her, but he was still cute. Why did she have to choose between puppers anyway?

Weiss began to pet him, and the little dog just ate it up. "Aww," she cooed. "And you said his name was Spike?"

"Yep," Twilight replied with a smile. "He's named after my cousin. I think he's in Vacuo right now? Him and Uncle Sparkplug are working in the alternative energy sector. Fascinating stuff really."

"What sort of alternative energy?" asked Weiss curiously, only half paying attention as she continued to rub the dog down and he slowly spun to expose every part of his body to her.

"I…" Twilight trailed off, "...really can't say."

That made Weiss pause momentarily. She knew why Twilight was withholding information, but… well, it was nothing personal, just business. She couldn't let that get her down.

She would have her revenge against her father soon enough.

On a whim, she looked up and saw that her query had completed. Giving Spike one last rub, she got up and took a look at the results. Ten minutes later, she couldn't help but notice something extremely odd about things.

"Twilight, what exactly happened during the second semester last year?"

The violet-haired girl looked up from her own work, and the dog in her lap, in surprise. "Second semester? Not sure, but whatever it was, it really messed up the schedules for missions. It also resulted in a lot more things being restricted and off-limits to us students."

"Really, like what?" asked Weiss.

"Oh, I think the biggest one was Park Place Naval Air Station. I used to go there all the time to test out new inventions and drone designs - they had an unused section that was great for that - but then second semester rolls around last year, and suddenly I can't go there anymore."

"Hmm," Weiss considered. "What kind of inventions did you test there again?"

As Weiss returned to the Schnee Manor, she was unpleasantly surprised to find her father waiting for her.

"Good evening, Weiss."

"Oh, hello, Father," she greeted politely, plastering a vaguely pleasant smile on her face. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"If you could spare a few moments, I was notified of some unusual paperwork filed with our legal department," he said. "Would you care to explain?"

Weiss's mind raced as she took in his posture, his tone of voice, his word choice, assessing where he was going with this.

"Why, certainly," she stalled. "There was an unfortunate incident shortly after break began. My team leader was responding to an emergency at the docks and was shot. By all accounts, the shooter was a member of SDC Security."

"Ah, I see," he said, nodding agreeably, which sent Weiss's hackles up. "Most unfortunate. I'm glad you took the time to ensure she's taken care of." He offered a smile that she saw right through. "In fact, I think this is a perfect opportunity to start a charity I've been considering."

"Oh?"

"Why, yes," he confirmed. "Huntsmen operate with so little infrastructure and support backing them up compared to other emergency services. While I understand that this offers them the freedom to act as needed, it means that when they need help, there is often no one there to offer it. Now, I know charities to assist Huntsmen in need already exist, but I think something larger, coordinated on a more global scale, would be an excellent way to help support our brave protectors, wouldn't you agree?"

"I… absolutely would," she replied, relaxing slightly, her smile growing slightly more natural. Ah, so this was a PR move. He was trying to head off any possible public relations fallout if the incident at the docks reached the unwashed masses. So be it. That was something she could live with.

"And on a more personal note," he continued, "I'll see about getting your team leader a formal apology."

"That- that's not necessary," Weiss protested quickly. The last thing she wanted was someone from the SDC, let alone Calliope Ferny, poking their noses around Beacon. "It was an honest mistake."

"Nonsense!" her father retorted. "I insist. Although, I do worry, Weiss. That your leader was so reckless as to charge into a firefight… are you sure you wouldn't be safer on another team? Perhaps here at Atlas, with your friends?"

"I'm sure, Father," she replied, her voice gaining an edge to it. "Ruby's quite a capable leader, despite appearances to the contrary. I trust her with my life."

He frowned, studying Weiss's face for a long moment, then gave a curt nod and a resigned sigh. "I suppose I will have to as well, then. But do be careful, Weiss. You are the heiress, after all."

"I'm always careful, Father," she assured him.

If she wasn't, he'd be impaled on Myrtenaster by now.

Weiss was grateful once more for her choice in apparel, as white blended well with the snows of Solitas. While spring had broken out in Vale, spring didn't exactly exist on the northern continent. They had something that was like spring, but having experienced actual spring, she found it more than a little wanting.

She lay in the snow on the side of the road, camouflage netting draped over her, waiting for the convoy she'd been tracking to get closer. The EB-885 - not to be confused with the EB-884 half-track - was an eight-wheeled armored vehicle with an attached seven-tube multi-missile launcher, and there were five of them rolling along the road towards her. The first passed, and in one fluid, glyph-powered movement, she rolled into the road. The next vehicle drove over her, and with careful application of her glyphs, she attached herself to the bottom of the chassis.

She stayed like that for a time, keeping her breathing controlled as she held close to the vehicle to avoid being torn apart by the pavement rushing past mere inches from the back of her head. She was glad she had decided to forgo her usual ponytail for a tight bun. The last thing she needed was to explain why she had decided to suddenly shave her hair off with a weed eater.

Soon though, all too soon, the convoy passed the gate of the Park Place Naval Air Station. The outer perimeter was manned by Atlesian troops, and security was relatively light. With only a brief pause to check paperwork and give the cargo a cursory inspection, the convoy was waved on through.

Weiss waited as the convoy continued into the compound, searching for the right moment. There! She let go and dropped down, landing on a glyph. As the vehicle she'd clung to passed over her, she created another glyph, sending herself barrelling away from the convoy through the gap between vehicles and into the natural alleyway formed between a pair of hangars.

She rose, dusted herself off, and looked around. As far as staying hidden went, this spot worked, but she needed a better view. She needed some altitude. She looked up, and with a twirl of Myrtenaster, she created a glyph that sent her up to land lightly on the roof of one of the buildings.

The sky was overcast that day, backlit by the sun far above to create a slate grey ceiling. Not only did her outfit blend well against that backdrop, it also helped conceal her glyphs as she made her way across the base, bouncing from glyph to glyph and roof to roof until she found herself atop a communications tower that gave her a commanding view of the base.

People didn't tend to look up, which was a tendency she took full advantage of.

Let's see… she mused as she narrowed her eyes, scanning the compound. There were secondary perimeters, of course - this naval air station was a sprawling affair, rated to service any of the aircraft in the Atlesian fleet short of a Skylord-class air cruiser and any sea-going vessel short of a fast battleship - but one of the secondary perimeters caught her attention. That area seemed to have much fewer personnel visible within it; what few people there were moved with deliberate purpose, and she saw no roving patrols. As she watched the convoy she'd hitched a ride on approach the gate, a pair of brand-new AK-200s stepped out, scanning the convoy with sophisticated sensors, including checking underneath the chassis, before waving it on through. It was the only gate not secured by human guards.

That's got to be it, she thought. Her eyes flicked back and forth as she plotted her path, then moved. The mobility her glyphs granted her made breaching the secondary perimeter almost too easy. She made a mental note: when she finally fully unlocked her hereditary semblance, she'd have to remember not to ignore the options offered by its more basic abilities.

This particular section of the base held half a dozen double-width hangars separated by a short runway passing between them. The convoy had moved to one of the hangars at the far end, and that was where she started. From the roof of the hangar across from it, she watched as a mixture of Atlesian troops and SDC personnel began unloading crates from the backs of the armored personnel carriers. As the hangar doors slid open, she saw inside the sleek fuselage of one of the new XP-14A Skystrikers.

She shook her head and directed her attention to the very hangar she stood on. She approached a ventilation grate and peered inside. The hangar was dark and silent, but she could barely make out the shape of more Skystrikers.

She shook her head again and hopped over to the next hangar, and as she peered through the grate...

Jackpot.

She could barely hear a conversation going on, but what drew her attention was the chair she saw. It was a perfectly ordinary-looking chair, save for its size, matching the giant chairs Team RRANNBW had seen on their first mission.

She carefully pried open the ventilation grate, dropping down to the catwalk below, then crept closer. This hangar had a partial wall in the middle, with a large door that was slid half-open, and the voices she heard, still indistinct, were coming from the other half. She had to get closer.

The catwalk didn't take her close enough, though, so with a certain amount of reluctance, she descended to the ground floor and continued her approach, finally leaning up against the half-open door itself to listen, though she dared not peek and risk being spotted.

"-call it energex," a suave voice declared. "It's energon cut with a few... local ingredients for our human allies. Applied orally or intravenously, it should give them a boost to their structural integrity fields with minimal short-term side effects. I can't speak for any longer term side effects, though; they're rather reluctant to allow me to perform any large-scale medical testing."

"Ya jawin' about engex?" someone drawled in reply.

"No, I'm talking about energex," the first voice replied, clearly annoyed. "There's an er in there."

"Ya sure?" the second voice questioned. "'Cause that looks a powerful lot like engex t'me."

"Listen you shuriken-slinging yokel, if you take this stuff and put it in a six-pack, I swear, I'll-"

"Silence," a third voice interrupted, deep, monotonous, and with a reverb that sounded positively unnatural.

And that was when it all went wrong. The door Weiss was leaning against suddenly slid aside, leaving her in the open as a light shone down upon her. Her heart leaped into her throat as she stared, frozen and wide-eyed, up at the trio of giant robots looking down at her. The first detail to catch her attention was that all three of their chests were emblazoned with the same purple, face-like emblem Team RRANNBW had seen before.

The one closest to her, dark blue and boxy with a yellow and red chest plate and wheels along its grey arms, declared in the third voice, "We have a guest."

One of the other two, the one to the left, sauntered toward her and leaned down to look at her. This one was red, with smooth lines and curves, in sharp contrast to its blue companion. "Hmm," it said, speaking with the first voice she'd heard, from a mouth sporting a curious expression matched by its eyes, "this one looks kind of familiar, actually. Like a smaller version of our liaison."

"How c'n ya tell?" the third and largest robot - the second voice - asked, its faceplate moving with each word. It was green, purple, black, and white, and it seemed to be armed with a pair of large revolvers… scaled to fit, of course. And it seemed to have a lot of joints, with tracks and wheels all over it, and what looked like claws too.

'Liaison'? Weiss thought. But… who? It- it can't be talking about-

"Soundwave!" a familiar voice called from the front of the hangar.

No. No no no no no…

Clipped, precise footsteps began drawing towards them, even as the three robots turned their attention away from her.

"There you are, Weiss," Winter said as she stopped next to her. "You shouldn't go running off like that." She looked up at the blue robot. "My apologies, Soundwave. This is my sister, Weiss. I was in the process of giving her the tour and reading her in when we got separated."

The robot's red-visored faceplate offered no hint as to whether it - he? - believed her.

"I see," Soundwave acknowledged. "An… understandable complication, Specialist Schnee. Still, perhaps we should table our planned meeting for later."

"That might be wise," Winter agreed. "I'll need some time to… discipline my sister."

"However," Soundwave said, gesturing to the red robot, "I believe Knock Out has a preliminary sample of the aura booster solution he has been working on for you."

"That I do," confirmed Knock Out, smiling smugly. "As I was saying to my colleagues, I call it energex. Oral or intravenous application. You'll have to do you own testing, of course. Here's a small sample." With a flourish, he pulled out a stoppered vial the size of Weiss's leg. It was filled with an amber liquid that seemed to almost glow.

"Thank you, Soundwave, Knock Out, Sixshot," Winter said graciously, nodding to each of the robots in turn as she accepted the vial and tucked it under her arm. "Come along, Weiss. Let's get you home." With that, she pivoted on her heel and started marching toward the front of the hangar.

It took Weiss a moment to snap out of her shock, and she hastened to follow.

They left in a covered white VAMP, and the next several minutes, as Winter negotiated the security checkpoints and got them off-base, were the longest in Weiss's life.

"What are they?" Weiss asked finally, breaking the silence.

"They call themselves 'Decepticons,'" Winter answered. "They say they're from the planet Cybertron, a world where non-biological life reigns."

Aliens, Weiss rolled the thought around in her mind. So, Jaune was right.

"How long?" was her next question.

"Since they approached the Atlesian Council a year ago," Winter replied. "The General doesn't trust them, and he said he couldn't trust this to anyone else."

"And… Father agreed?"

"He thought it appropriate, given the SDC's… close relationship with them."

'Close relationship' indeed, Weiss thought bitterly. Ha.. She almost wanted to laugh, but instead, her breathing accelerated as the ramifications ran through her mind. She clenched her fists, steeling her nerves for the next question.

"And the… human resources for their... projects?" she asked. "Who handles that?"

"The SDC."

"Did you know?" the words came from Weiss's lips before she could stop them. "Did you know about the slave factories?"

Winter hesitated, her expression faltering. "I... didn't have any conclusive evidence."

Weiss's world cracked. "Winter?" she begged.

"I... suspected," her sister admitted.

The crack spread, and Weiss's world shattered.

"Weiss, I-"

"Take me home," interrupted Weiss.

"Weiss, you have to understand-" Winter tried again.

"I said, 'take me home'!" This time, it came out as a shout.

"I didn't have any choice. The-"

"No excuses!" Weiss shrieked, then deflated. Blinking back tears, she said tiredly, "Just… just take me home."

She suddenly felt exhausted.

~Mirror, tell me something…~

Weiss stood staring at the mirror hanging above the fireplace in her room. No… not her room. Not anymore. Not after this.

She closed her eyes.

Control… she reminded herself, pressing her lips tight. Mustn't… lose control.

She had already finished packing, leaving her at loose ends while she waited. That was... most unfortunate, as it let her mind wander.

There was a gentle knock on her door.

"Enter," she said sharply.

The door opened. It was her butler, Klein. Ever so reliable Klein. Had he known?

"Miss Schnee?" he called tentatively. "Your vehicle is ready."

She nodded. "Thank you, Klein. I'll be departing immediately."

Wordlessly, Klein stepped in and took charge of her luggage, and the two left the room, beginning their trek to the manor's front door.

"Did you know, Klein?" she asked several minutes later, breaking the silence in the empty halls as they neared their destination.

Klein took a moment to weigh his answer. "Miss Schnee, there is nothing that happens in this house that I do not know about."

"I see," she said, feeling her heart weigh in her chest as they stepped outside and she saw the car waiting for her.

"As a consequence of that, Miss Schnee," he added as he loaded her luggage into the car, curiosity and concern in his voice, "there is very little that happens outside this house that I am aware of."

She turned, a faint smile crossing her face. "I see. Thank you, Klein. That will be all."

"Of course, Miss Schnee. Have a safe journey."

Specialist Winter Schnee stood on the airfield. She ignored the cold wind blowing her coattails around, her attention instead focused on the departing airship as its running lights twinkled and shrank to disappear into the night sky. Weiss hadn't even waited for a high-speed transport to be arranged, instead taking the first available airship to Vale. She didn't blame her sister. She couldn't. Not for this.

She just wished she could explain.

A figure came up behind her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You did the right thing, Specialist," the General reassured her.

"I hope you're right, sir."

"So do I," he admitted. There was, after all, no certainty in war, hot or cold. "Take comfort in the knowledge that the more she knows, the closer she is to you, the greater the risk it puts her in."

She nodded silently. That, at least, was something she understood all too well. These were… dangerous times, after all.

That worked both ways, though. As much as she wondered what had led Weiss to discover the Decepticons… that was a question she would not ask, even if she'd had a chance to. Everyone had their secrets, after all. Not even the General knew everything; until she found evidence, he needed the plausible deniability. Winter dared not risk Weiss or her resources any more than she would expose Weiss to her own, and with luck, her sister would have the freedom to do what needed to be done.

She just hoped her sister would be able to forgive her some day.

Weiss yanked open another drawer and looked through the clothes inside. Every time she found something she hadn't bought herself or which was monogrammed with the SDC snowflake, she threw it in the metal drum. So far, the only things she had been forced to keep were her spare uniforms.

Another tear rolled down her face. She ignored it. She couldn't break, not now, not when she was so close.

There was the sound of the door opening.

"Weiss, you're back early."

It was Blake, her friend. No that wasn't right, Blake was too kind to be friends with a Grimm in human skin. The door closed.

"What are you doing?"

She turned around with another stack of blood-soaked filth in her hands and dropped it into the drum. Blake looked confused. It was… strange to see on her. Weiss couldn't remember the last time she was confused.

"Packing my clothes to be burned. What does it look like I'm doing?" asked Weiss rhetorically.

Blake looked stunned, horrified really. She must have noticed the tears. Stupid girl, should have cleaned up. "You're burning your clothes?! Weiss are you-"

The snowcapped girl interrupted her, hands placed on either side of the drum and looking down into it at the abominations piling up. "I can't… I just can't stand wearing that damn snowflake anymore. I have to get rid of it. I have to get rid of every scrap bought with Father's blood money."

Blake advanced on her. "What happened up there? What happened to you, Weiss?"

Weiss turned, the tears welling up again. "I found out the truth."

"What truth?" asked Blake.

Weiss took a step of her own, her hands clenched into fists that were digging into her aura. "That the White Fang was right about us Schnees!"

There, she had said it. In a voice that was falling apart like her empty shell of a heart, she had spoken the truth. She'd been on the wrong side this whole time. Of course the Fang had been driven to violence, of course they killed, of course they stole, of course they did whatever it took to hurt the SDC. Against this? Against slavery and death? What else could they do? And it's not like they were harming real people either. The Schnees were too innately monstrous to be considered human.

Blake's eyes narrowed, and she reached out to grab hold of her. "That is something I refuse to accept, Weiss," she declared, a fire in her eyes and voice.

"Then you're refusing to accept reality!" shouted Weiss, having to blink away tears that were blocking her vision.

"No," said Blake defiantly. "No, Weiss. I know what the White Fang think of your family, but I know they're wrong because I know you."

"Do you?" she asked pointedly. "I'm a Schnee, after all."

"That doesn't matter!" the black-haired girl shot back. "You are not your father, Weiss. You are the one that will reclaim your grandfather's legacy."

"My grandfather's legacy is dead!" shouted Weiss, her voice going hoarse. "It's gone! It's all gone! It's just a mockery now! It's nothing but cruelty and treason! It can't be redeemed, it can only be destroyed!"

The bottom of her fist came down to pound against the lip of the drum, leaving a slight dent.

"On Patch," she got out in Blake's silence, "Yang asked me why I still wear the snowflake, even after what she told me about th-the escaped slaves. I should have realized it then. Wearing this… I'm not defying my father, I'm supporting him. Him, and the rest of my horrible family."

"What about your sister?" asked Blake, her face concerned.

"My sister knew!" Weiss screamed. "She knew about everything! She's been working with the Decepticons the whole time!"

Blake started. "Weiss…"

Weiss continued, her mental faculties becoming ever more trapped by a terrible pressure inside her head. "My whole bloodline are evil monsters! How can I possibly…?"

Blake fully reached out and embraced her totally, pulling Weiss tight into a hug. "You're not a monster, Weiss. You're my best friend."

Her mind, and her muscles, finally collapsed at that. Letting out a terrible wail, tears flowed freely down her face, and her arms desperately tried to hold on as the rest of her body lost the ability to stand. Blake gently brought her over to her bed and sat down with her.

The black-haired girl brought out her scroll, and with one hand, she deftly typed out a text message to let Ruby know Weiss was back and upset. With her other hand, she stroked her friend and tried to comfort her in her breakdown. She didn't tell Ruby how she should act or even if she should bring more tissues to help clean up the tears and mucus now seeping onto her clothes.

Let the others figure out what to do. The only thing Blake Belladonna cared about in that moment was reminding her best friend Weiss that she was more than just a name. They were both more than just names.

It was a long time before the room was quiet again.

Author's Note 1 (Cody MacArthur Fett):

At this point I'm convinced that Blake thinks that Weiss is the world's biggest smol woobie. It is only natural though. After all, Weiss is one of my favorite characters, and because of that she will die a thousand deaths, each more painful than the last.

Author's Note 2 (Cyclone):

I feel I need to mention, we decided on the title for this interlude because it fit the themes and setting so well. It was only afterwards - after we got it half-written - that we realized how well the song "Cold" fit the two closing scenes.

Also, you can blame thank Cody for the cameo appearances here. That's all on him. So also is the refusal to refer to the EB-884 or EB-885 as the Snow Cat.