Raven stepped out of her portal, clutching her wounded shoulder. She blinked as the change in light assaulted her eyes, eventually able to see the dingy tavern as her eyes adjusted.

"Well, I wasn't expectin' a family call, today." Raven turned to the bar and saw Qrow wiping a mug. "What brings you to my establishment tonight, Miss Branwen? Forgive me for not offerin' a drink."

Raven growled, "That bloody brat of Summer's ruined my operation. She and her crew raided my base and freed all the prisoners. I had her on the ropes when that noodle threw her a gun." She brought her hand down, examining the red stain. "She got a lucky shot on me."

Qrow silently listened, a frown creasing his lips, "So, Ruby attacked and saved a bunch of people, people you were no doubt plannin' to sell. And you expect me to sympathise with you?"

"I don't expect anything from you."

"I suppose that's a good thing, then," Qrow added smugly, "After all, you probably weren't expectin' an admiral to be payin' me a visit, did ya?"

Raven stared at him in confusion until someone cleared their throat behind her. Standing in the doorway was Admiral Winter Schnee, a detail of soldiers behind her and aiming their guns at the outlaw. "Raven Branwen," Winter began solemnly, "By the authority vested in me by his highness, the Lord-King of Atlas, I am placing you under arrest for piracy and the illegal capture and sale of civilians."

As Raven stared at the navy dumbfounded, Qrow chuckled, "Maybe you should start expectin' things from me, dear sister of mine. Perhaps then, you might be able to not land yourself arse first on hard rock." Raven wanted to punch him, she wanted to run as quickly as possible, yet the bullet in her shoulder had sapped her of her strength. She was losing blood quickly, her knees already starting to quake from weakness. As such, she did not resist when the soldiers seized her and dragged the pirate off.

Winter did not follow, merely watching the once threatening terror of the seas taken away without a shred of dignity. Yet, she remained grim and focused, turning her attention to Qrow, "Now that distraction is dealt with, perhaps you can answer my question, Branwen. Where is Ruby Rose?"

"From the sound of it, doin' your job for you," Qrow retorted, his scowl returning, "You heard it yourself; Summer's squirt is rescuin' people out there, whilst you're dallyin' around pickin' up her leftovers."

"Yet she has taken to being a criminal," Winter replied coolly, "Good deeds or not, she has chosen to operate outside the bounds of the law. She has abandoned her dignity and I must apprehend her.

"I swore an oath, Branwen. An oath made upon my family's name, the authority of the King, and the blade of my grandfather. If I overlook even one criminal, then I fail my duty and abandon my family's honour."

"Even if that criminal is your own sister?" Qrow asked. He placed the mug down and looked Winter in the eyes, ice-blue clashing with burgundy-red. "You're willin' to sacrifice your own family in the name of your duty just because she's helpin' people in a way the King doesn't like?"

Winter's fist clenched in rage, yet her face remained cool and the growl in her throat was killed before it surfaced. "Weiss has chosen her path. She has cast aside her dignity and honour to throw her lot in with criminals. Perhaps she helped people today, and maybe she will help people tomorrow. But a criminal works outside the law, they are beholden to no one but themselves. The law exists to keep people like that from doing atrocious things, to keep people like Raven from doing the things they do." She leaned forward, offering Qrow a steely-eyed look.

"If I have to execute my own sister to uphold the sanctity of the law, then so be it."

Qrow scoffed, "You're an ice-cold bitch. You always have been. Well, it doesn't matter, I'm not tellin' you where Ruby went. After all, I still value my family, and will look out for them when the 'sanctity of the law' demands their blood." The two continued to glare at each other, daring the other to break first.

Eventually, Winter sighed, realising the fruitlessness of the conversation, "I see. It doesn't matter, Branwen, I'll find where they went regardless of your assistance. And once I've got them, both your niece and my sister will understand what happens to those who abandon their duty." The admiral turned and left.

Qrow scoffed, "I'm not particularly worried. No doubt Ruby's got a good crew behind her, and it's only a matter of time until their loyalty ensures they'll go through hell and back for her."

Winter blinked as she left the tavern, the harsh light of the sun momentarily blinding her unadjusted eyes. Once her vision returned, she saw her brother standing on the pier, looking out at the ocean wistfully. "Whitley," she called, moving towards him, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Winter," he replied, keeping his eyes on the waves, "Just… thinking about Weiss."

"And what exactly came to mind?"

Whitley was quiet for a moment, letting the sea breeze wash over him, rustling his coat. "Just reminiscing," he eventually said, "Thinking back to happier times."

"Those times are long past us, now," Winter stated sternly, "Our sister has chosen her path, and we must follow ours. If it means we must apprehend her, then it must be done."

"I'm aware. Still, even if she is a pirate, is it wrong for me to still love her? To still be her sibling?" He glanced at Winter with a sombre yet conflicted gaze, "Well?"

Winter found it difficult to answer. Had it been one of her subordinates, she would have rebuked them, telling them that fraternising with a pirate was unprofessional and unseemly. Yet, under the inquisitive gaze of her own blood, she faltered, if even for a moment. "So long as you do not let your feelings cloud your judgement, I shall not fault you for it. Just remember that you have a duty to commit yourself to, and that if the law demands Weiss' blood then it must be done."

Whitley frowned, turning his gaze back to the water. "I don't want that," he said, "I don't think I could ever watch Weiss die. Whilst you and father were gone, she was there. I love her, Winter, and nothing she does could ever change that."

The admiral was moved and placed a hand on her brother's shoulder, "I promise you this, Whitley; I will do everything in my power to save her. She may lose her freedom, but she will not lose her life." The two stood there, listening to the waves lap at the pier and hulls of ships, the breeze whistle by, and the cries of gulls in the sky.

"Anyway," Winter said, "Qrow was unwilling to provide us a lead, but we do have another option. Ruby has been seen associating with a local criminal called Roman, leading me to conclude he has an idea as to where she and Weiss are heading. I want you to chase that lead down whilst I'll see what I can get out of Raven."

"So that was Raven. What was she doing here?"

Winter shook her hand, "Long story. For now, just focus on finding Roman."

Whitley gave a salute and marched away, his head working through all the possibilities of tracking the crime lord. He would not allow himself to be tracked so easily, yet the scent of lien would coax him out of hiding. The skilled master trains his hound to obey with promises rather than with beatings, and so the rear-admiral would beckon the hound with a promise of gold.

Whitley would need to find a point at which to set his trap. In a town such as Port Royale, there would likely be a number of operations that Roman was running, yet handling all of them would be burdensome. As such, the seaman would have to target his most lucrative.

After gathering some soldiers, Whitley found himself at the harbour, the sound of bells and creaking hulls filling the air. The snow-haired man furrowed his brow. Most of Port Royale's prosperity came through its harbour, sheltered from the harsh, southerly winds of the Annarella Ocean and providing a shortened journey for ships, passing the strait between Crescent and Cooks' isles. He found it hard to believe that Roman had no influence in the goings on at the port.

Acting upon his suspicions, he made his way to the customs office. Ordering his men to stand outside, Whitley entered and made his way to the foreman's office. There he found William, sitting at his desk and filling out documents.

The foreman looked up, going stiff at the sight of his guest. "Rear Admiral," he began cautiously, "What brings ye here? I imagine it ain't about wantin' some drinks."

"Indeed," Whitley replied, "I would like to view the shipping manifests along with the transaction records of harbour."

William was as stiff as a statue at this point, sweating bullets, "I see. With all due respect, rear admiral, them documents are private property and I can't exactly show 'em to ye."

Whitley hummed, his suspicions confirmed; William would not have been so touchy about the documents unless there was something shady, something the navy should not be seeing, he reasoned. The rear admiral cleared his throat, "I understand the need for privacy, foreman, but this is a matter of the law. It is your civic duty to cooperate with me so that justice may be upheld."

"And what good is that there justice if I allow the rights o' me customers to be denied? It's also me civic duty to protect those rights."

It seemed a different approach was required. Whitley decided to use the carrot instead of the stick. "Then perhaps something else, sir. If you allow me to view those documents, I could make it so that navy vessels that pass through Port Royale deal exclusively with the White Star Line, for both repairs and supplies."

An intrigued glimmer flashed through William's eyes, "Do ya even have the authority to do that?"

Whitley smiled deviously, "Technically, no. However, that does not mean it is not within my power. As a Schnee, my word carries a lot of weight, and, if my word alone is insufficient, then that of my sister or even my father should be enough."

William sat there, gaping at him like a fish. He uttered no sound as he comprehended and considered the deal. "...I'll need a down payment before I agree to anythin'. About five-thousand lien should do."

The navy officer frowned. He was already treading the line with the deal, something Winter would call corrupt and something his father would consider a dangerous concession. Still, if he could find information on Weiss, it would be something they would accept. "I don't have any money on me at the moment."

William opened a draw and pushed a slip forward, along with a pen and inkpot, "Then ye can sign this here cheque." With a reluctant sigh, Whitley signed the cheque. With that, William stood and made his way to the cabinets, unlocking them and pulling out sheets of papers. He handed them to Whitley.

Flicking through the papers, the rear admiral immediately noticed that a lot of luxury goods, notably sugar and tobacco, were going all around the world to various people; Elric, Atreides, Skywalker, among others. "There's a lot of people buying sugar and tobacco."

"Aye, that stuff's grown in Menagerie and a lot of people want it. Only real way for it to get anywhere is through here."

"That I won't deny. However, it seems that there are many, many people buying it in such small amounts." Whitley spared a glance at William, noticing he was as stiff as a board again. He narrowed his eyes and decided to press forward, "Tell me, these are merely aliases for Roman Torchwick, are they not?"

"I do no business with crooks," the foreman replied all too quickly.

The rear admiral calmly placed the documents on the table, "Mr. Whitchurch, if you're cooperating with a criminal, then that means I will have to arrest you." Will stiffened again, and Whitley's smirk grew. "But… This could be swept under the rug, provided you cooperate with me.

"So, Mr. Whitchurch, could you set up a meeting between Roman and I, with me as a prospective buyer?" The foreman hesitated. "Think of it like this; now that you've given me this much, Roman will not hesitate to dispose of a loose end. Not only that, but you'll be free to do more honest business without the threat of Roman. This benefits both of us, does it not?"

Will stared at him defeatedly, "I'll… I'll see what I can do."

Whitley grinned amiably, "I'm glad we reached an understanding."

A few days passed. Whitley avoided as many questions from Winter as was possible, desiring to have a lead on Weiss before revealing the deal he made with Will. As of now, he was in civilian clothing, his sword concealed by his coat, waiting for Will at the docks. At his side were a few of his men, also dressed in civvies, and a few barrels and crates of cash crops, something he managed to requisition from Winter.

Eventually, the foreman arrived, looking hesitant. "So, yer really doin' this?"

"Indeed. Roman is in possession of some information that is… rather pertinent to me."

"Aye… Well, just follow me and I'll lead ye to 'im." Will set off, and Whitley, adjusting the hat and wig that hid his snow-white hair, followed. His men began to trail after them with the goods.

It was not long until they found the viper's den. The scent of smoke and opium hung thick in the air, making it difficult for Whitley to breathe. Before him was Roman, lounging atop a throne of cushions like some Mistralli warlord, a long pipe in his hand. He released a plume of smoke from his mouth as he sized up Whitley. "So, you're the lad who wants his goods to get to Atlas?"

Whitley nodded. William shuffled nervously, "Well, I need to get back to work." He hurriedly left. Roman watched his retreating figure through narrowed eyes and his body tensed, something not unnoticed by Whitley.

"Intriguing…" the crime lord muttered, before turning his attention back to Whitley, "So, what are we transporting, boy?"

"Sugar, tea, and tobacco."

"Trying to avoid the tariffs, right?" Whitley nodded, and Roman took another huff of his pipe. "Well, the usual fee for our services runs at 500 lien per kilo. How much you got there?"

"About twenty kilo."

"Ten thousand, then. Just so you know, we don't take cheques, you gotta pay up front. So, you got the cash?"

It was at that moment that Atlesian soldiers burst down the doors and surrounded them. Whitley took off his hat and wig. "I'm sorry, Roman, but I'm afraid you are under arrest for smuggling."

Roman smirked, "Got the attention of the Schnees, did I? I'm flattered." He snapped his fingers and gunfire sounded in the room, some soldiers falling to the ground with bullet wounds. Their comrades quickly, if panicked, spun around to fight off the hidden assailants.

The two harlots at Roman's side drew daggers hidden in their clothes and lunged for the rear admiral. However, Whitley deftly avoided them, slapping one of them in the neck, knocking her out, and kicking the other away.

Roman stood, pulling a hidden dadao from the cushions and rushed for Whitley. However, the Schnee used a time dilation glyph to slow him down. He drew his own sword and swiftly disarmed Roman. Fortunately, the soldiers had managed to defeat the goons in the shadows, though not without casualties.

Whitley held the point of his rapier at Roman's throat. "I believe I said you were under arrest."

"So you did. Usually the king's men can't do much against me, but I suppose Schnees are built differently."

Whitley nodded his head and one of his men restrained the captured crook. "I just have one question for you; Do you know where my sister went?"

Roman chuckled, "So, she was a Schnee…"

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Why should I tell you?"

"The standard sentence for smuggling is seven years of jail time. But, if you help me, that could be reduced to one or two."

Roman hummed, "That does sound good. Sure, I know where she went. I sent her and her new skipper on an errand to Kuo Kuana."

"I see," Whitley finished, waving a hand towards the soldier. He nodded and dragged Roman away.

A few hours later, he reported to Winter on his findings. "I see, so Kuo Kuana…" she muttered whilst gazing at the regional map, "I want you to set an ambush at Nánfāng."

"Nánfāng?" Whitley repeated, "Why not Weller Key, or here?

"I don't want to take the risk of them fleeing up the Jade River. Besides, if they're running errands for Roman, then that means that one of his associates in Kuo Kuana might have some more work for them."

Whitley saluted, "I understand. Also… I may have gone beyond my authority to get this information, made some deals I shouldn't have."

"Such as?" Whitley explained the deal he made with Will and what he told Roman about lowering his sentence. He tensed, expecting a harsh lecture from his sister. Instead, she merely frowned and turned back to the map, "I see…" Whitley stared at her in confusion.


Next chapter is here, as well as a new story, a cyberpunk AU. I imagine I'll work on them one after another, do a chapter of RHP and then a chapter of Galatea, but if you lot would prefer to see one over the other, then let me know.