(A/N) Out a little later than I'd hoped, but, well, what can I say? Stellaris is addicting. Either way, it's here now with the second day of the new year. Enjoy!


Volume Three

Chapter One – Looking Ahead


/-\ Ruby Rose /-\


I groaned, blinking as I lifted up my arm to block the inhumanly bright sun from shining directly down into my eyes. I tried to roll over, but a sharp pain in my stomach stopped me in my tracks. Taking a steadying breath, I tried to clear my vision as the bedsheets slid all over my fra-

I paused… bedsheets?

Rubbing my eyes, I blinked away the remaining blurriness and fully opened my eyes. The thing I thought was the sun turned out to be little more than unusually bright lights on the stark white ceiling. I relaxed back into the bed, yesterdays… some day's memories flooding back to me.

The mission. The caves. The base. The Persian. The… afterma-

A paper cup noisily hit the floor, my gaze darting towards-

My breath hitched.

Sitting in a fold-out chair to my left, her head lolled to the side, sat an almost exact – if a little short – clone of myself. Her hair was just like mine: a red so naturally dark that it looked black everywhere but the tips. Her face was just like mine save for the slight touch of age – late twenties, maybe thirty. Her physique was small, but still muscular in its own right – just as I'd been before my augmentations. If her eyes were open, I just knew they'd match my own mirrored silver. Everything matched up… save for the pair of slightly drooping cat ears perched atop her head.

Finally, it clicked. "M- mom…?" I muttered, reaching for her. The second my fingers brushed against her cloaked shoulder, she jolted awake. With a yelp, she fell out of her chair and hit her head on the frame of the bed that sat across from me, its occupant letting out a deep groan.

My mom, meanwhile, rubbed the back of her head. "Gah… stupid little… why does it have to-" She stopped as her gaze met mine. In a flash, she was back on her feet, arms already wrapped around me as she buried her head in the crook of my neck. "…Ruby." She muttered.

I instantly returned her embrace. "…I never thought I'd see you again."

"I'm sorry…" She said. "I'm so sorry I couldn't be with you growing up."

I pulled away slightly. "It's… okay." I said, reaching for my emblem… only to not find it in my hospital gown. "I had a piece of you to remember you by, all these years. And Yang still has your-" I blinked. "Wait, is Yang with you?"

She nodded. "Yeah… she just went to get lunch with everyone else. She's actually the reason why I could be here."

I took a deep breath. "So you… did try to come home?"

"Of course." She said. "I would never willingly abandon you two… not unless I had a very good reason."

I sighed, relaxing back into my bed with a hiss of pain. "Well… I suppose it wouldn't've helped me much, given I was training for the rest of my childhood."

She grimaced. "Yeah… Yang told me about you being a Spartan." She said. "You're… a lot more expressive than the others here."

I shot back up in my bed. "Wait, there's more here?!"

"Yeah; 092, 042, and 130."

"Twos, then." I said. "That's kinda the standard from what I've seen; won't stop me from meeting them when I'm outta here, though. Actually, where is here, anyway?"

"The UNSC Spirit of Fire." She said. "It's a massive starship."

I hummed. "Name sounds familiar, but I can't place it." I said. "What class is it? A Marathon? Maybe even a Valiant?"

"I think Serina said it was a… Phoenix?"

I raised an eyebrow. "A colony ship? Why would the UNSC even use one of those anymore?"

She shrugged. "I don't know the details, but I do know this isn't a dreadnought or anything."

I hummed, nodding. "Wait, how did you even get here anyways? And what about the carrier over the base? Did that get delt with?"

"Indeed it did." A new voice said. Again, I whipped around, this time meeting a pair of icy blue eyes. "I personally made sure of that."

"Winter? What are you- Wait, what happened to your arm?" I said, noticing that it was completely replaced by a prosthetic; a UNSC military-grade one by the looks of it.

She lifted it with a sigh. "An… Elite. One with far more skill than any I've encountered besides the Persian."

I frowned. "It's armor; describe it."

"As black as a Grimm's fur with a small red slit for a visor, why?"

"Did it have a red energy sword, too?"

She nodded. "Indeed; how did you know?"

"I've fought them before. They're extremely rare units – the Silent Shadow – but they're the Covenant's best special forces troops. Or I guess they were until they came up with the Persians." I sighed. "I've seen those fuckers give Spartans a run for their money; hell, I had to get creative back on Meridian when I ran into a squad of 'em."

"I thought you primarily fought Insurrectionists during the war." She said.

"I did, but there was an ONI facility on that planet that was important enough for me and another Spartan team to get pulled from our regular assignments. You said its visor was red?" She nodded. "Then there's probably more of 'em running around somewhere; only their officers have red visors, the others have blue ones."

"What a lovely thought." She said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Suddenly, my mother sniffled from behind me. I turned around, seeing her hugging herself as her ears lay flat against her head. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"I…" She sniffled again. "Hearing you tell your war stories… I knew you were a soldier, but I guess it didn't sink in until now…"

"There's nothing wrong with that, mom, I just… had a different upbringing than-"

"And that's my fault!" She shouted. "If I'd just been a little better or faster or luckier, then maybe you wouldn't've had to go through all that… that horror."

I stayed silent for a moment, thinking about my next words. "Mom. Do you… know how many people I've saved doing this?" She just stared at me, not responding. "Draco III; the Covenant were literally eating children. If I hadn't been there, the others wouldn't've gotten to the battle fast enough to save everyone; maybe not even anyone out of the thousands that made it off-world. Reach: they were shooting down civilian evac transports until I got a missile battery up and running. Three ships with six hundred souls each." I said. "And that's just two battles. I can't even imagine how many men I've saved by doing my job and doing it well."

"But I still should've been around for-"

"You're here now." I said. "That's enough."

She stood still for a moment before a slight smile tugged at her lips. "You really are my daughter, aren't you?"

I smirked. "What gave it awa-"

"…Tai..." A gravely voice said. I leaned up, looking past my mother and finally getting a good look at the other bed's occupant. "Tai… they're not…" Qrow muttered in his sleep. "…not coming… Tai!" He gasped, eyes flying wide open as he tried to sit up, only to clutch his chest and fall back down instantly.

"Qrow!" Mom shouted, practically leaping to restrain him. "Qrow, just… sit still for a minute. Just breathe."

Her white cloak obscured my vision of my uncle, but I could still hear his ragged breaths slowly even out. "Ugh…" He groaned. "…gods damn I hate that one." He muttered. "I don't suppose you know about any space magic that can stop that, right Tinnie?"

"Uhh… What?" Mom muttered.

"Y'know, all your guys' space magic and stuff; surely you found a cure for nightmares by now." He said. "Hey wait… when'd ya get those ears? They… remind me of your…" He trailed off. "…Summer?"

"Hey Bird Brain." She said, her smile practically audible.

"Wha- but ho- you're… you're here…" He said. "It… wasn't all the nightmare after all…"

"Yeah, you were pretty loopy the first time you woke up. Still, it's… very good to see you again. You, Tai, Ruby, Yang, hell, I even kinda wanna see your sister. And not just to punch her in the face for leaving me in the middle of a warzone."

He chuckled. "Oh trust me, I wouldn't blame you one bit if you did." He said. "Still, this just… doesn't seem real."

"I can pinch you if you want."

"Nah, I… don't think that'll be necessary." He said. "Still, though… what happened after I passed out? All I remember is clutching my chest while I was walking out of the enemy base and then I woke up here."

"I pretty much dragged you to safety." I said. "Even killed a few Grimm before I passed out, but, well, I don't remember much past that either. Mom said there were other Spartans here and I remember seeing a gold visor, so I'm guessing they're what rescued us."

Mom nodded, sitting back in her chair so we could all comfortably chat. "Yeah, though me and Yang went with 'em." She shuddered. "It… wasn't a pretty sight."

"I can imagine." I said, tracing my hand along the bandage around my leg. "Like I said, that thing just… it's like nothing I've ever seen."

"Please tell me its dead." Summer said. "I've heard enough about it that I really don't want it on the same planet as my daughters."

"Oh, I made sure it was very dead." I said. "It was barely even a blob when I was done with it."

"And if you killed it inside the base…" Winter started. "Well, let's just say that valley no longer exists."

I sighed, relaxing back into the bed. I opened my mouth to say something, but the door whooshed open, revealing several very familiar faces. My teammates and my father strode in but stopped dead in their tracks when they saw me.

"You're awake!" Yang shouted, quickly shoving her tray of food into Dad's arms and jumping into my embrace. She squeezed just a little too tight for my wounded body to be comfortable with, but I completely ignored it. After a moment, she pulled away, still holding onto my shoulders. "Please… please don't scare me like that again. I… I don't know what I'd do if I lost you again."

"Well trust me, I'm in no hurry to do that again." I said. "It's good to have ya back, sis. Especially after thinking you were dead too."

She blinked. "Wait, how did you think that?"

I shrugged. "None of us knew how Raven's semblance worked. Since she said she was sending you to Summer and we all thought she was dead… well, long story short, you've got a grave right next to mine and Mom's now."

She just stared at me for a moment. "…Okay, that's… weird." She said. "Wait, knowing you… please don't tell me you killed her, I… even if she's a bandit, I uhh… I wanna talk with her still."

"No, we didn't kill her." Weiss said, stepping forward. "Though not for lack of trying, considering what we all thought at the time."

I shrugged. "Yeah, turns out she's one of the most powerful fighters on Remnant… even damaged my armor too badly for us to fix. At least with what we've got on Remnant."

"I was wondering why you weren't wearing your armor when we found you…" She muttered. "Well, maybe Alys can fix it up for you; she's uhh… she's the Spirit's Chief Engineer."

"Wait, does this ship still have its war factory up and running?" She nodded. "Well, then it's worth a shot. Actually, I just thought of something; how long have the Spartans been with the Spirit?"

"Since Arcadia, I think." Mom said.

I blinked. "Wait, Arcadia? The first or the second battle?"

"There was a second battle?"

"Well… guess that answers that question…" I muttered. "I thought for a sec that I was literally on the same planet as you – at the same time – a couple years back. But I don't think I was even in UNSC space when Arcadia fell in the first place." I said. "Still, that means the Spartans here are using the old Mark Fours. Maybe the Chief can retrofit 'em with some shields or something after having a look at my armor; I don't think the generator's damaged." My gaze fell to the trays of food my father was holding, feeling my stomach grumble. "Hey… did you get me anything by chance? I feel like I haven't eaten in a year."

He chuckled. "Yeah; Doc said you'd wake up soon, so we figured we'd get you something. We wanted to be back before you actually woke up, but yeah…"

As he handed Yang's tray back to her, Blake rolled up in her wheelchair, handing me one of the four trays on her lap before giving one to my mother and uncle. As we ate, we all shared stories of what happened while we were separated.

Blake told us about the attack on the Infirmary, Yang and Weiss with their assault on the battlecruiser – plus a demonstration of her new abilities, much to Winter's approval. Mom told us about her own battles during the early part of the war – all the way from when she escaped the Spirit in an ODST pod to her and Yang's adventure on a ringworld of all things… though they were both very vague about a guest they supposedly met there.

In return, I told them about Valkea – plus her attached… challenges – and the missions our team went on. Winter pitched in with her side of that particular mission, shocking Yang to the core that Jaune was dead; it only compounded when she learned Peach shared a similar fate during Winter's story.

Qrow and I had the least bloody tale, ironically enough, though that was likely because we chose to keep it clean. Three hours after I woke up, an ONI Major came in and told them that I was needed for debrief. I didn't want to stop talking to them – it was the first time our family was whole in decades – but even I could see we were running out of things to talk about. With a contented smile on my face, I wheeled myself out of the room and after the major.

For the first time in a long while… life was good.


/-\ Embra Autumnos /-\


I rubbed my stomach as I walked down the cobblestone path, still weirded out by the fact that I'd awoken without so much as a scar where I'd been… hit. That memory flashed before me again… The one of Jaune.

The last one of Jaune.

I shook my head, trying to keep myself from crying. Again.

A robotic hand gripped my shoulder. Looking back, I saw the sad yet understanding eyes of my teammate, Nora. Her mouth twitched, trying to offer a smile, but she just… couldn't. Behind her, Ren's eyes told the same story as his partner's. Even if his arm was in a sling, I knew that was the last thing on his mind.

We strode up to the outer gate of our destination, my partner's sword clinking against Pyrrha's… mine… hers… I didn't care anymore. As I drew closer and closer to that great big wooden door in front of us, there was only one thought on my mind.

How in the world do I tell them?

As I approached the castle-like mansion, the faint sounds of voices reached my ears from one of the opened windows on the second story. With legs that felt like they were made of lead, I stepped onto their porch, raised my hand, and rang the doorbell.

In far too little time, a girl not much younger than us stood before me, her eyes as blue as his and her hair just as sandy. She glanced between the three of us. "U- umm… can I… help you?"

Forcing down a lump in my throat, I asked the question that I dearly hoped she'd say no to. "I- is this… the Arc residence?"

"Yep, why?"

My heart sank.

With great reluctance, I reached for the white and gold sword, unclipping the whole thing from my skirt and presenting it to the girl that looked even younger than most Beacon first years. "I- I… need to return this."

She gingerly took it, only glancing at its polished surface. "This is Crocea Mors…" She muttered. "Where did you find it?"

I bit my lip. "Its… owner wanted it returned if he ever…" I trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Before the girl could respond, a woman shouted out from deeper in the house. "Dorée?" She asked. "Who's at the door?"

She glanced backwards. "Uhh… I think they're huntsmen? They brought Crocea Mors for some reason."

After a moment of silence, I heard something heavy drop to the floor, the clicking of high heels echoing closer and closer. In only a few seconds, an older-looking clone of the first girl stood in the doorway. The only other difference between the two was the older woman's eyepatch covering her left eye, a long and jagged scar extending all the way from her cheek to her hairline. Pyrrha's memories sprang forth, instantly supplying her name.

"…Where's Jaune?" Honeydew Arc asked.

I glanced at Nora, then Ren, before finally turning back to Jaune's mother. "He…" I started, gaze trailing to the ground. "…we were just supposed to be investigating missing people…"

Her breath hitched, hands flying up to her mouth. "P- Please…" She begged, eye watery. "Please don't tell me what I think you're going to…"

My own eyes welled up just thinking about it. "I- I'm… I'm sorry."

"Mom?" The girl asked. "What's going on?"

Wiping away tear, Honeydew glanced at the girl. "Go tell your father and your sisters to meet me in the dining room; get Saphron on the scroll as well. I…" She swallowed a lump in her throat. "I have news."

"Want me to call Jaune, too? Let him know someone found his sword?"

She sniffled. "That… will not be necessary. You'll… you'll understand in a minute."

Dorée shrugged, setting Crocea Mors down on a nearby table before disappearing deeper into the mansion. "You'll… have to excuse her. She's a city girl with two huntsmen for parents; not used to… how things are out there." She said. "But… but I need to know: what did this?" She asked. "Spare the gory details, please, but… what killed my son?"

We all glanced between ourselves. "It… It all happened so fast…" I muttered.

"They call it a Persian." Ren said. "It was some kind of special forces alien."

"The Covenant, then…" She said. "I… All I can say is thank you for telling me of this… and for bringing back his weapon." Another tear fell from her eye as she took a shuddering breath. "I'm afraid we likely won't be the best hosts, but… do you have a room for the night?"

"We have everything arranged." Ren said. "But… thank you for offering."

"It's the least I could do…" She said, glancing backwards. "I… should be going now."

I bowed my head. "I suppose so." I said. "He… he was the greatest team leader we could ask for."

She nodded, beginning to close the door. "Thank you… for doing this; giving us the… the closure a letter never could." She said, the door slowly latching shut. A moment later, I heard a quiet thump, barely contained sobs filtering through the thick wood.

My own tears spilled, running down my cheeks and onto the ground as I just… stared at the door. The next thing I knew, Ren's hand was on my shoulder as he slowly spun me around. He blinked away his own tears, Nora openly crying as well.

"C'mon." He said. "We… shouldn't keep the Pelican waiting."

I slowly nodded as we strode away from the Arc Manor, the path turning to cobblestone as we entered the town proper, our giant and golden-visored escort waiting for us. A silent fifteen-minute walk later and we were strapping ourselves into the airship at his hometown's sole landing pad. All the while, the only thing I could think of was that we just… left him there in the mud.

An unmarked grave… shared with a child.

When we finally got back to our dorm, we all went to bed… none of us falling asleep for even a moment…


/-\ James Cutter /-\


My PDA chimed as I rode through one of the Spirit's tramways en route towards the front of the ship. Checking it, I nodded in approval when I saw the HVI was on her way back to Vale. I ran a hand through my thinning hair, recalling Summer's little explanation yesterday about just why this girl was so important. 'God, what I wouldn't give for things to be as simple as "Humans good, aliens bad" again…' I thought.

Slowly, the tram slowed to a halt and I stowed my PDA back into my pocket. Myself and the half-dozen others filtered out of the vehicle, more of our crewmates taking our places as we did so. Five minutes later, I strode into the conference room I was destined for – only one of the three others being present.

I nodded to him. "Commander Witherson."

He nodded back. "Captain Cutter."

I strode over to the water fountain, getting myself a glass. "Water?" I asked, receiving an affirmative. I poured him one as well, sitting down across from him at the wood-lined holotable. "I read your report; damn shame how many men lost their lives in the crash."

He nodded. "Very much so, but given the damage report, we're lucky anyone was alive in Engineering at all. Probably in no small part to your very quick reaction. And thanks again for doing that, by the way; the survivors would probably be in the single digits – if there were any – if you didn't act so quickly."

"Anyone would've done that in my position." I sipped at my drink. "But hypothetically, if command of another ship were to suddenly become available – say, a destroyer – would you be open to being its CO?"

He huffed. "I don't know what else I'd do; I'm a Commander in the Navy."

"I didn't know if you would prefer overseeing Reavia or commanding a destroyer. Your service record says you haven't had the best luck with them."

"I don't think anyone has, sir, frigates and destroyers aren't exactly ships of the line." He sat back, taking a sip of his own water. "Besides, that's more my XO's speed; Parker was an administrator on Actium before it got glassed."

I hummed. "The perfect man for the job." I said. A moment later, the door behind me hissed open. I instantly stood back up, nodding to the two men that entered. "General Ironwood, Professor Ozpin."

The former nodded back, his face stony and unreadable, while the latter gave a small but friendly smile. "Good afternoon, Captain." They both sat down on either side of the table, but I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the big red handprint on the side of Ozpin's face. He chuckled, leaning his cane against the table as he sat down. "Compliments of a former student of mine once she received some… less-than-savory news about family matters. I'd best not get further into it, I'm afraid."

"Then I won't press." I said, sitting back down. "So, gentlemen, what is the status of Vale overall?"

"The Jackals are still in the sewers, unfortunately." Ironwood started. "The men you sent are helping, but at this point, attrition is piling up more than our gains; it might just be best to seal off the parts still held by the aliens and cut our losses."

I hummed. "My thoughts exactly. God knows we had a hell of a time rooting them out of what was left of Utgard's sewers when we were retaking Harvest. I'd suggest gassing them – that's how we ended up dealing with the problem – but we can't risk chemical weapons leaking into an inhabited city."

"I agree wholeheartedly." Ozpin said. "I'll inform the Lady of Arms after we're finished here; same with any other points that concern her."

"Other than that…" Ironwood continued. "The city is secure. There was a Covenant holdout in Lavendertown, but they were annihilated to the last man only a few hours ago."

"It still astounds me how unwilling they are to surrender." Ozpin said. "Even the most battle-hardened huntsmen are likely to lay down their arms in face of such odds."

"You get used to it." Witherson said. "Besides, it astounds me how we were able to pull off a victory – let alone two – with the forces available."

"And what about the other cities – err, kingdoms, and their outlying towns?"

Ozpin frowned. "While I was never truly fond of those in Winshire, I did not wish their town to be glassed. Other than that, most of the northern coast shared their fate with few – if any – survivors to tell the tale. As far as I know, Mistral and Vacuo were left completely alone, though with the CCT down, it could take weeks or even months for a message to arrive with their actual status. You're likely better informed than I am with those satellites of yours."

I hummed. "Serina, any anomalies in the other two kingdoms?"

Her avatar flashed to life on the holotable before us. "I detect no signs of glassing, if that's what you're asking, no big plumes of smoke either. But as you know, there's only so much you can see from up here; these certainly aren't billion-credit ONI satellites, that's for sure."

"Unfortunately." I agreed. "Alright, onto our other order of business; ships. Specifically, that battlecruiser."

"It was captured with Remnan blood, it should stay in Remnan hands." Ironwood instantly said.

Ozpin sighed. "James… let me do the talking for a few minutes."

"I actually agree with him, though not for the reason he gave." I said, arms crossed. "Our naval personnel are going to be spread thin; we just don't have the manpower to effectively crew the ship on our own."

Ozpin raised an eyebrow. "And yet, many in Vale – both VADF and Eternal Navy – find themselves without ships to crew."

I nodded. "My thoughts exactly." I said. "I would still assign a few officers and engineers to assist, but the crew would primarily be made of Remnans."

Witherson frowned. "I seem to recall there being more available crew than you're letting on; the Road made a soft landing with the grand majority of its crew surviving and those that perished can be replaced by the men of the Odinsdottir almost thrice over. Plus with the amount of Faunus recruits and volunteers we're getting, I'd say there's more than enough to crew the battlecruiser."

"You're correct, Commander, but that's if we do nothing else." I said. "You said it yourself; the Road made a soft landing. Most of its systems survived the crash at least well enough to fly back to a drydock for proper repairs."

"But we don't have the spare parts for tha-" He blinked. "…you brought a war factory with you…"

I smirked. "Indeed I did, Commander." I said. "The only thing I'm missing right now is a berth for it. I'm new here, so I'll take any suggestions I can get."

"I honestly doubt one still exists, at least in Vale." Ironwood asked. "She's as big as an Atlesian battlecarrier, and those were only made in Atlas proper."

"Actually, I've been looking around for a while now." Witherson said. "Mishka Industrial Shipping has one slipway big enough." He pulled up his datapad, punching in a few numbers. "Slip 11G is gonna be a tight fit, but it's the biggest one that still exists. I just sent you the coordinates."

I hummed. "Serina, bring up a projection." Her avatar disappeared, replaced with a massive – and currently flooded – slipway, industrial-looking buildings springing up on all three sides of it. "Give us a destroyer; Halberd-class." Barely, just barely did the small starship fit; the projection almost touching the walls of the drydock. "Overlay tolerances." I said.

Numbers flashed on the screen, floating mid-air as lines connected them. Both length and width were very close, only having a dozen meters on either side to spare for the former and eight for the latter.

"…Is that even enough to work?" Ironwood let out.

"With difficulty, but yes." Serina said.

"Can we even get the Road in? Damaged ships aren't exactly known for their agility." He asked.

"With the aid of an artificial intelligence, some special sensors and guidance equipment, plus a little bit of luck… yes."

Witherson just smiled, reaching for his commlink. "Road, Witherson. I want a report assembled of everything needed to get the Road airborne again. Not to space, just airborne and able to make a trip to Vale. Include what Reavia needs to remain functional without the ship at its heart."

"Aye sir, I'll pass it to Engineering." The woman on the other side said.

"Copy, Witherson out." He shook his head, setting his commlink down. "You have no idea how many simulations I've had Alice run through to try and get us over there with what Remnant can produce locally. It's a lot harder than it sounds, considering she weighs seventy times as much as a locally-made battlecarrier." He said. "Well, now that that bombshell is out of the way, anything else?"

I hummed. "We both know that a CCS-class plus a destroyer and a colony ship aren't going to be enough to stop any determined Covenant attack."

"And what do you propose we do about that?" Ironwood asked. "Our ships can't exactly reach orbit if the aliens don't decide to come down to our level next time, and assuming boarding actions are going to work again is just poor strategy."

"You're right." I said. "So, with the Road being resurrected, what are the chances we can start building new ships as well?"

"Slim to none." Ironwood said. "Atlas had eighty-percent of the warshipbuilding market cornered. I only know of a single company here in Vale that makes them, and the cruiser they're building is much too far along to be scrapped; converting her would be a massive hassle as well."

"And the only other warshipwrights are in Mistral." Ozpin said.

"…Who's government are too busy sticking their heads in the sand to do anything useful…" Witherson said. He hummed. "But… what if we don't go to a warshipwright?"

Ironwood raised an eyebrow. "Why not? They have the most experience building the kind of ship we need."

I frowned. "No offense, but if your ships' performance during the Battle Over Glass is any indication, they learned the wrong lessons." I leaned back in my chair. "What are you proposing, Commander?"

"It's another thing I've been trying to work out while I've been stuck here. The freighter business is practically dead right now; the invasion made intercontinental trade practically die overnight and without attrition from Grimm attacks, no one's ordering new ships."

"Meaning there's plenty of open slipways." I said. "They'd be smaller ones, though."

"You don't need a big ship to carry loads of those Atlesian torpedoes we saw during both the Fall of Atlas and the Battle Over Glass." He said. "Makos are nice and cheap, plus they use spitfires instead of full-length MACs, so they're better for ground support. Considering the Grimm are what ultimately did Atlas in, I don't think it's something we can ignore." He said. "My only problem was how to get them orbit-capable, but with your ship here… can you support the shipyards that would do the final assembly?"

I hummed. "Serina?"

Her avatar flickered back into being. "One moment…" She said. "It depends. Not factoring in anything to do with the Road – which we will certainly have to support the repairs of, even in drydock, by the way – our facilities can almost meet the material demand to keep up with a single Mako-class corvette's construction; assuming one-hundred percent efficiency, zero breakdowns, and round-the-clock fabrication."

She hummed. "However, if we were to locally source the bulky yet simple materials – such as the hull plating, bulkheads, internal frame, and things like that – then it is within our production capacity to provide for the Road's repairs as well as four ships without changing any of our standard operating procedures."

I nodded. "And what about our other projects? Will they suffer from this?"

She shook her head. "Not at all, though I'm sure the Engineering section will be grumbling about this for quite some time."

"I'll be sure to give them some leave once those ships are in the sky, then." I said. "What about you, gentlemen? Any thoughts?"

"I forgot to mention, we also found the hulk of an old Mistralian warship in the forest." Witherson said. "Structurally, she's as sound as this ship is; her insides have been gutted, but that's an advantage in this situation. I had plans of turning it into a landing ship – save some trouble for the Odinsdottir in case we ever needed it. But we had the same problems with that as with the Makos."

I nodded. "And now with the Odinsdottir gone, that ship becomes even more valuable. Serina, could the Spirit haul that thing to a drydock?"

"We'd need some pretty strong cabling, but even assuming its as heavy as the battlecarrier Commander Witherson mentioned earlier, this ship should have no problems in terms of thrust-to-weight ratios."

"I think we might be able to help in that department." Ironwood said. "The ship that attacked Beacon – the Sovereign – it has a great chain that's used to salvage entire ships… or pieces if that's all that's left. Either way, it has a habit of surviving just about anything thrown at it and there's a good chance it's still intact down in that wreckage. It should be able to lift anything smaller than a Second Rate with no problem whatsoever."

I sighed. "A great chain…" I muttered. "If it works, it works. Any other thoughts or should we start talking about how to get this past the bureaucrats?"

The room was silent for a moment before Ozpin cleared his throat. "I have to admit, you have me convinced. Though I'm not exactly a military strategist; that's more of the General's field."

The man in question frowned. "I don't like how close-range those torpedoes ended up being, but I cannot doubt their efficacy." He said. "I also admit that I don't have any better ideas. My only other concern is how they would be split up, nationally."

I nodded. "There's four ships total; three fighting ships and a transport. The UNSC would take the landing ship and one Mako; the other two would go to Vale and the Eternal Navy."

He thought for a few moments. "Your people have more experience with planetary landings of this scale. I agree with your assessment." He frowned once again. "But there is one question I have; this goes for anyone, by the way, I just need ideas." He sighed. "I'm… tired of seeing my people homeless in the streets. The problem is that no settlement would take us all – that many people would destroy their economy – but splitting us up isn't an option either. I'm… frankly at a loss."

I nodded. "I'll look into a few things. The Spirit was originally a colony ship, after all." He smiled at me and opened his mouth, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand. "I make no promises, however. You know as well as I do that military production will take precedent in this situation."

His expression schooled itself. "It's still better than doing nothing. You have my gratitude, sir."

"In the meantime, we've got other concerns. So I'm told that…"

Before I knew it, over an hour had flown by and we all needed to return to our other duties. I walked them all to the nearest hangar, where a pair of Pelicans took the three away; one back to Beacon and the other to Reavia. I frowned, clasping my hands behind my back as I headed to the bridge for a status update…


(A/N) New year, new volume! I know there wasn't very much RWBY/JNPR in this chapter, but I wanted to get that meeting out of the way before we get too far into the volume. Other than that, the only other thing I can think of is what colors the Arc names allude to; Honeydew is obvious, but Dorée is French for "Golden" or "Gilded". Thought it fit with the yellow theme that family had going for it. Also, speaking of names... we've got Alys now (canonical Chief Engineer of the Spirit) plus Alice (the AI) and Alice (the Spartan). That's not gonna get confusing... not at all...

Anyways… onto the reviews!

Guest002 said – "So, did something happen to Yang during her time away? I keep noticing her say "uuhh" midway into her sentences has that this been a recent thing since she was away or something else. Very curious about this."

No, she's always done that. It's my way of showing her awkwardness in this fic as opposed to her canon self… who "awkward" is quite possibly the last word that would come to mind.

Raw666 said – "Welp, things are getting real. Though I wonder if we can get a perspective of the rest of the world of the on-going war.

I can see our resident Worst Father of the Year award winner thinking he can get heavy war profits. Only to throw a fit by the UNSC pushing technology that does not use Dust. After all, outside the planet's atmosphere, dust does not work, and a lot of the fighting will hopefully be in space if they can help it in the future. Combined with a lot of people now liking the Company under his control, many would be open to alternative energy and technology.

Though I wonder if its the planet, or the energy propelled by Aura. Since the Dust is people, or rather the remains of the last human civilization. Hence the name Dust. Could give a whole new meaning to grave robbing win these new human's body degrade to dust."

I should probably do one of those at some point, come to think of it. As for the biggest-douche-in-the-universe, I have plans for him this volume. Good theory, but I must remind you that I'm using an alternate origin story for Remnant that was written before we knew what was actually going on.

McDouggal said – "Ok, unknown third party is *almost definitely* Quarian. Small ship size compared to other universes? Check. "Homeworld era?" Check. Tech mentioned to be out of date? Yep. Correct number of fingers and toes? Yeah.

No clue what ate Oscar though. That thing was gravemind*ish.* What happened to the healer?

RIP Peach. Also, Winter *seriously* needs a strap or something on her arm, she keeps losing the damn thing.

Is it bad of me to think that Ruby/Winter is a more likely romantic pairing in this story than Ruby/Weiss?"

Got it in one, my friend. Oscar wasn't really eaten, more like put in a bio-version of a cryopod; same with the healer and the Atlesian soldier that was with them. Ngl, that comment made me laugh for like five straight minutes when I read it. In the wise words of a random song on the internet: "I ship it."

Guest003 said – "Rifle grenades would be totally useless because they blow up. If you toss a rifle grenade, you lose a perfectly good rifle."

It took me a minute to figure out what you meant, but… let's just say that the rifle grenades I was referring to aren't exactly as literal as they are in the Borderlands franchise. Irl (the ones I'm referring to) they're basically mini-RPGs that you stick on the end of your rifle and launch that way – they're the precursors to modern underslung grenade launchers. Pretty common during WWII, iirc.


Aaaaaand that's about it for right now. I don't actually know what the next chapter's gonna be called atm, but I'll see y'all then!