Chapter Five: The Juniper
Yang ducked underneath a wild, drunken hook A man who was reminiscent of a bellowing mass of fat, grease and body hair staggered forward, off-balance. She took advantage of the man's lack of balance and landed two solid kidney blows, before smashing his jaw with a powerful left hook, dropping the man like a side of beef cut from a butcher's hook.
Yang barely had time to admire her work, when a heeled boot, belonging to one Belladonna Zech Blake Ist Dawn's Hope, connected with the side of her head. She was sent sprawling across the liquor-stained and chair-scratched floor.
Keep your head up, don't drop your guard like a damn amateur. This isn't your first bar room ball. She used the momentum from the kick to roll to her feet. She shot Belladonna a scowl as she turned and spat blood.
All Yang wanted was a drink, and after knocking that Arc guy down to twenty-three thousand she had Void damned deserved it. But Little Miss Belladonna had to get pissy after Yang called her Blakey that last time. She just had to throw her drink. She just had to hit that group of pirates.
Yep. This was all the cat's fucking fault.
Yang ducked underneath another kick from Belladonna, then threw a couple of quick jabs; more to create space for Yang to think and get a feel for her opponent than to actually try to connect with the cat.
Belladonna dodged the two half-hearted punches, quickly ducking a good six or seven paces back. So that's how you play huh? Attack, avoid the counter, retreat. Rinse and repeat eh? Yang slammed her fist together in eager anticipation.
Yang had to admire the grace and agility with which Belladonna danced through the mess of bodies before she leapt onto a table and used it as a springboard to launch another kick at Yang's head.
But… Yang grinned in savage triumph as she caught Belladonna's leg and threw her across the bar, you ain't beating me in strength.
Belladonna hit the floor in a thud but quickly leapt to her feet, only to be set upon by another group of angry, howling patrons.
"Well I guess cats don't always land on their feet," Yang quipped, chuckling to herself.
Yang cursed as she ducked beneath an outstretched arm and wrapped her own across the burly, unkempt man's chest and over his shoulders. With a grunt of effort, Yang lifted the man up and slammed her victim through an empty table.
Another patron attempted to blindside her with a flying rugby tackle, which she deftly sidestepped. She caught another patron by surprise with her devastating right hook. Yang almost laughed as he was tossed to the beer-stained floor where he spat teeth, barely conscious.
Several more drunk patrons rushed her and Yang was forced to give ground. As she ducked, weaved and dodged angry punches, kicks, the odd bottle, and broken chair leg, she felt her back press up against someone else's.
"Duck!" the person, a woman by her voice, yelled.
Yang didn't hesitate and felt the woosh of air as a weapon of some kind swung over their heads.
Using her shoulder to keep her back to the other woman, Yang spun around, catching a chair leg, and the arm that held it, on the backswing. With a tug, Yang pulled the man off balance and brought her knee into his groin.
The man gasped in pain and his knees buckled as he fell to the floor. Yang followed it up with a quick right straight punch into the nose. She felt a crunch as the man fell over grabbing at his face as he screamed in pain.
"Thanks!" Yang shouted over the screams and the billowing anger of the patrons. She cast a quick look over her shoulder and was surprised to find the long, lush black hair and cat ears of Belladonna.
"Not now," Belladonna grunted, punching a man in the gut, then bringing her heel down in an axe kick on the man's shoulder. "I'll deal with you when I'm not about to get brained by some human pirate."
"Deal!" Yang heartily laughed. This was the most fun she had in age; it had been a long time since she had actually been able to cut loose.
Who knew a bar fight could be so relaxing, Yang mused as she ripped a bottle from another man and smashed it against the side of his jaw before she hurled it into the face of another.
"Belladonna!" Yang yelled as three obviously genetically tailored men, who were more like slabs of muscle on bone, charged into the fray.
The Faunus dodged nimbly away as Yang rushed to meet them. She caught the first one with a powerful uppercut snapping the man's overly muscled neck back, just as Belladonna delivered a sharp kick to the back of the man's legs. The man fell back, and before Yang could admire her work, she was smacked aside by a brutal backhand that threw her to the now sticky floor.
Yang shook her head, as her vision blurred and the room spun as she climbed to her feet, only to be knocked back and into a set of tables as Belladonna was thrown into her.
"And here I was starting to have fun" Yang groaned cheerfully as she picked herself up, offering a hand to Belladonna, who, much to Yang's surprise, took it.
"This is what you do for fun?" Belladonna gasped painfully, taking a position beside her facing the two giants.
"Sometimes. Though usually, I'm the only vat-freak involved." Yang smiled sardonically as she took a step forward. "So... you want the one on the left or right?"
"You can have the one on the right. The left is the one who threw me," Belladonna turned and spat.
As the two remaining muscle heads advanced Yang roared a battle cry and the two charged.
Yang groaned as she felt something poking her in the forehead. Annoyingly and insistently.
"Go away." Yang was tired, and she tried to pull the heavy blanket over her and snuggle back into bed. Only the blanket didn't move… And it was made of squishy flesh, not of various artificial and wool fabrics.
And...there was someone resting their head on her shoulder!?
Yang's eyes snapped open and she looked straight into the face of the annoyed, grizzled face of the barkeep.
Injured patrons laid all about. Most of the chairs, tables, and stools were in various stages between damaged and completely destroyed. Belladonna was resting her head on Yang's shoulder, her cat ears tickling Yang's neck as they flicked and moved. What Yang had thought was a blanket turned out to be one of the unconscious vat-freaks, who had so graciously helped them to destroy what little undamaged furniture had been left.
Yang hung her head, slightly embarrassed as she fished for in her pocket for a bar of Aegisalt. She maybe was a hot-head who got into fights for fun…but she never liked wrecking other people's property if they didn't deserve it.
"This should more than cover it." Yang laughed painfully as her numerous bruises made themselves known; and tossed a milky white and purple bar to the barkeep.
The man grumbled something which Yang couldn't be bothered to decipher and closed her eyes. She needed to sleep.
"Let's… try not to do this again," Belladonna whispered against her shoulder.
"Yeah… not for a while," Yang nodded in agreement, and then paused "Hey Belladonna?"
"...Blake… You can call me Blake."
Yang grinned tiredly as she closed her eyes and slowly drifted back off to sleep. "You fight real good, Blake. Real good."
"You too, Yang."
Jaune and Ren walked in silence as they weaved their way through the dirty, rubbish-strewn streets. Though Ren was difficult to read at the best of times, Jaune had known the man long enough to know the subtle clues he gave off when something was gnawing at him; a slight tightening of his shoulders, a quick or barely visible frown. If it wasn't for his rotten luck, the man would be a masterful card player.
"Well, what do you think?" Jaune asked, breaking the silence as they entered the crowded bazaar.
"You undersold us by two-thousand," Ren answered, his tone was as quiet and contemplative as it always was. His magenta coloured eyes roamed over the crowd and stalls instead of looking directly at Jaune. "They're not telling us the truth either."
Jaune shrugged as they passed by several stalls, offering various charms and trinkets for protection, cheap and poorly kept weapons, and adulterated intoxicants; which most were highly illegal throughout the more civilized parts of the galaxy.
"When has a client ever told us the truth about what we'll be doing?" Jaune was rather ambivalent; several years as a smuggler had taught him that clients were rarely upfront. He was more concerned with Ren's thoughts on the underselling, especially as the Juniper was still in the red for the past few months.
Ren sighed, which, for him, was as telling a long string of frustrated expletives from anyone else. "Jaune you need to take your responsibilities more seriously. We're in the red for this month, and you and I both know twenty-three is barely going to cover fuel costs."
Jaune smiled lightly as he patted his friend on the shoulder. "We'll manage. We always do. Plus there is a way to reduce our fuel-"
"Roman Torchwick?" Ren interrupted, as he cocked his head.
"Roman," Jaune sheepishly admitted. Ever since their first meeting, Ren didn't have the greatest opinion of the man; Ren and Roman had taken a polite, but obvious dislike for one another. So much so, that the day Ren had anything positive to say about the Crime Lord, Jaune would quit the smuggling life and settle down as a farmer somewhere.
"He still owes me that favour," Jaune added hurriedly, as he noticed Ren's disapproving frown. "Even if we take the loop around Mistral space to the Protectorate, we'll still be able to cut our fuel costs by at least a quarter."
"True," Ren agreed reluctantly, "Doesn't mean I have to like it. You are playing it too close with that man."
"He's the one that helped me get into the business," Jaune countered, "He's never done me wrong."
Ren stayed silent and Jaune let the matter drop. He understood Ren's… suspicion of Torchwick, he understood it very well. Torchwick was a crime lord, running one of the largest criminal enterprises in Protectorate space, whose tendrils reached even into Vale Space. Jaune was not a fan of dishonesty; and honesty was not a trait one would accuse Mr. Roman Torchwick of having. It would be a lie to say the man didn't joyfully embrace dishonesty. But Roman had always been good to Jaune, always paid, never shorted and always lived up to his word once it was given.
He just wished it wasn't brought up every time Jaune mentioned the man.
The two walked in silence for a short time, until Ren turned off the street and towards a run-down stall managed by a wizened old man. A local soothsayer, by the look of him, who was hawking his wares and the promises of protection for voidsmen on shore leave.
"Another trip, another charm," Jaune said as he stepped behind Ren, watching as he picked up brightly painted charms, carved idols, and beaded fetishes in turn. He turned each around in his thin fingers, examining them each with a critical eye.
"They work," Ren replied as he picked up a dark amber coloured one that dangled from a silver chain. A dozen handcrafted metal flowers had been woven into the chain and on each side of the charm was a small bell, which chimed merrily with every movement. A small, satisfied smile crossed Ren's lips.
It was a ritual the two had completed dozens of times since Ren and Nora had joined the crew. The inside of the Juniper was now decorated with dozens of idols, talismans, charms, and fetishes each one was supposedly imbued with the power to repel the Grimm.
They've had multiple encounters with the monsters, who were the blight of the galaxy. Jaune remembered pointing that out once to Ren after a particularly close encounter with a small flock of Griffin Grimm out near the border of the Vale frontier and Wild Space.
Ren had simply nodded and then he had looked Jaune straight in the eye and quietly reminded him that, ever since they had been together; and despite their years in the void, sometimes at the very edge of Grimm Space, Not Once had they ever encountered anything bigger than a Nevermore. Not once had they seen anything more dangerous than that small flock of Griffin.
Ren believed in them. He deeply believed in them.
And in the end, that was enough for Jaune, despite his doubts.
Jaune watched the crowd as Ren paid and carefully slipped his new purchase into his bag. The two resumed their walk back to the Juniper now that one of Ren's customary pre-voyage traditions was completed.
"Did you notice we were being watched?" Ren quietly asked under his breath, once they were back out in the main street.
"I did. Over by the alley to our right," Jaune replied with a whisper as he kept his hands relaxed to his side. He knew better than to gesture or look in the indicated direction.
He had seen the bearded man watching them from across the street, noting that he hadn't taken his eyes off of them during the whole transaction. It had been fairly obvious too, which stank of an amateur.
"Then you missed the other two," Ren whispered back, "One was sneaking glances at us from the meat stall that was to the left. There's another we just passed, on the right side of the street. Near that dust-bike."
Jaune smiled fondly; Ren's observation skills were always a source of amazement. "Where would I be without you?"
"Probably dead out in the desert somewhere," Ren noted, the corners of his mouth barely ticking up.
"Thought that was Pyrrha's job," Jaune chuckled darkly, before sobering up, "Think they're Perry's?"
Ren shrugged as the two turned a corner towards Hanger Thirty-Two A. "Possibly. Want to take them now or wait?"
Jaune thought about that for a moment. If the stalkers were Perry's men, then he couldn't have more than eight or nine, including him and his crew. His ship had taken heavy damage from their previous little exchange and he wouldn't be able to afford the extra hands in Jaune's opinion.
However, if on the odd chance these men weren't Perry's, then it was impossible to know how many more might there be. Attacking them would also tip off any survivors, and more importantly, their employer, that the crew of the Juniper was on to them.
But on the other hand, remaining idle would give whoever they were the initiative. Worse yet, they might try something with their new passengers aboard. A firefight breaking out would risk one the passengers getting hurt, or even killed. Something like that, taking place while under the care of Jaune and his crew would give that Yang woman a very good reason to demand compensation. Even after Jaune had given her a heavily discounted fee.
He wished he had Pyrrha with them right now. Out of the entire crew, she was by far the best fighter and having her here would allow him to go on the offensive. But she was back on the ship; cities and towns never made her feel comfortable.
"They know where the Juniper is. We could have the advantage in the hangar with Nora and Pyrrha. But we would have to give up the initiative," Jaune thought out loud in a low voice, carefully scanning the crowd ahead for any more suspicious actors. "On the other hand, Nora would be rather annoyed if she missed out on a firefight. "
"We wouldn't hear the end of it for a good couple of weeks," Ren quietly agreed with a small nod. "She has been complaining that Magnhild has been getting little use recently."
"I think we're going to have to find out who they are." Jaune finally decided as he came to a stop in front of the door to Hanger Thirty-Two A. "Get Nora and Pyrrha and ...uhh... see if we can't lure one or two out with a piece of bait."
"Let me guess. That bait is going to be you," Ren commented with a raised eyebrow, as he followed his captain through the door.
"Call it my punishment for underselling to the two ladies," Jaune laughed as the door slid shut behind them.
Ruby sighed irritably as she looked out of the window and over the bazaar, from the small boarding room they had rented, while Belladonna and Yang had gone to sell the ship and purchase passage aboard another. She had wanted to go with them, but Yang had shot her down.
"Someone needs to keep an eye on the Heiress, and she seems to like you the best.," Yang had teased her before she and the Faunus had wandered off into the bazaar.
That had been several hours ago and Ruby was starting to worry. Sure, Yang was tough and that Belladonna woman seemed like she could handle herself.
Still, Yang was her sister. It was Ruby's job to worry.
She had tried to take her mind off the anxiety, eventually stepping out briefly to buy some clothes and to buy both herself and Weiss some lunch. Nothing more than local lizard meat on toasted bread, with a strange purple drink. But after several days of eating nutrient bars and drinking recycled water, it had been among the most delicious meals Ruby had ever eaten.
"What is taking those two so long?" Weiss loudly complained for the nth time. "Surely it doesn't take this long for them to find us a ship. The quicker we can out of this vermin-infested hellhole the better."
Weiss huffed irritability behind her. The room, once again, echoed with the near-ceaseless pacing of her boots against the pitted, hardwood floor.
"I'm sure it's fine," Ruby smiled assuredly over her shoulder, "They probably just stopped to eat or explore the market."
Weiss scoffed but stopped her pacing. Quiet finally fell over the room as Ruby turned to observe the Heir Apparent. Weiss had ditched her dirty, tattered officer's uniform and had dressed in the newly purchased items Ruby had brought, choosing a pair of knee-high boots, a long blue trail coat, which was popular among spacers. Beneath that was a pale, ice blue shirt and trousers; and belted around her waist were her rapier and pistol.
Yet there was still that air of nobility that was draped around Weiss's shoulders like an ermine mantle: the way she held herself, the way she moved, her clipped accent and speaking manner all implied she was far above any lowly ruffian spacer. They would draw unwanted attention, so she was stuck in this hole with Weiss.
Yet despite her nobility, Weiss seemed to be shrinking. Her shoulders hunched, her fingers clenching and unclenching as though she was working the courage to do something that the Heir Apparent was not used to doing.
"Ruby?" Weiss asked after several seconds of silence. Her voice was so soft that Ruby wasn't even sure if she had spoken at all. "I'm… I'm not good at this. Making friends, being part of a team."
"It's okay, Weiss. It's okay," Ruby reassured gently, sitting down next to her and putting her arm around the other girl's shoulder.
"Not it's not." Weiss shook her head. "I shouldn't be like this. I'm the Heir Apparent of the Protectorate. Certain things are… expected. Demanded of me. I'm supposed to be strong. Able to shoulder anything and everything that can be demanded of you; and shoulder it alone."
Ruby shook her head. She couldn't imagine growing up like that. She at least always had her mother and, after she died, her sister and father after Uncle Qrow had smacked him awake. She could have always turned to them when she needed help. And when Yang had left…
Ruby couldn't help but stifle a small sniff and wiped a tear.
"What I am saying…," Weiss hesitated, then stood up and turned to face Ruby, "I'm sorry. I'm not like this. It's just… Old habits. I'll try to do better."
Ruby was quiet for a moment, then leapt up from the bed and pulled Weiss into a tight hug. The other girl gasped and wheezed out a faint, "Please get off of me."
Not that Weiss tried to fight her off, Ruby noted, as she gave the white-haired Heir Apparent one last squeeze before breaking off.
Weiss coughed and straightened out her clothes which had been rumpled in the hug.
"Well now. It's going to be us against the galaxy!" Ruby proclaimed with an eye-dazzling grin, "You, me, Belladonna and Yang against whatever they can throw at us."
Ruby threw a few excited punches into the air, shadow boxing. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Weiss finally smiled.
"Ain't nothing that can stop us!" Ruby shouted eagerly.
"Well… Be that as it may, I would feel better if your sister and Belladonna were back with news of a ship that can get us off the planet," Weiss added dryly, providing a bucket of cold water to Ruby's over-enthusiasm.
"Aaaaand guess what we got!" Yang, as though summoned by her name, bellowed as she shoved the door in, waving a data slate in her hand.
"Yang!" Ruby exclaimed, bounding over to her older sister. She came to a skidding halt however when she noticed Yang's puffy eye and purple-yellow bruise covering the side of her face.
"What happened?" Ruby badgered, her voice filled with concern as she rushed to her sister's side, peering at the bruises.
"Bar fight," Belladonna answered calmly as she slid past Yang and into the now crowded room. "Yang here thought it was a good idea to try and take on the whole bar at once."
Yang laughed as she looked over at her. "Only because you threw your drink at them, Blake."
Ruby grimaced and looked over at Belladonna, who had previously been so vocal about Yang's casual informality. To her surprise though, Belladonna merely smiled with a roll of her eyes, despite her own bruises.
"So what's the ship, is that it? Let me see, let me see!" Ruby eagerly pointed to the data slate which Yang cheerfully held out of reach.
"Yep," Yang confirmed as Ruby jumped grabbing the slate and burying herself into the glorious details.
Ruby was so engrossed in the schematics of the ship on the registry that she barely paid attention to Yang and the rest.
The ship was a Pharos class long-range freighter; a ship-class used almost exclusively by the Royal Vale Navy. Ruby's eyes went wide; seeing it out here was rather shocking. She looked deeper into the registry furrowing her brow as she flicked through the slate's documents. Some of the systems… most of the systems didn't make sense.
There was no way they could have an SPDC Series 5 Cold Fission Power Core! That wasn't even available on the civilian market! There would be massive power overdraw, even if they did have the Han-B280 Sublight engines. The registry crazily claimed that the Juniper was capable of a one-point-five Fold! That put it as fast as any frigate in any fleet! A freighter, even a naval one should be torn apart at those speeds. She shuddered at the thought of the levels of stress such a Fold would put on the poor ship's superstructure.
"...We managed to get him down to twenty-three once I showed him a bit of the girls," Yang was boasting as she took a seat on the table, scooping up the last little bit of lizard on toast.
"Yang…" Ruby called out as she waved the data slate, "are you sure this is right?"
Yang shrugged, popping the last little bit of toast into her mouth. "It's what I got from the registry. Though considering the planet we're on… who knows."
Ruby shook her head. "This can't be right. They are saying they have a power core that only the Protectorate military has access to, a Fold drove capable of one-point-five and guns that should be mounted on a destroyer."
"What are you saying then, Rose? That they're lying?" Belladonna asked curiously from where she leaned against the wall.
"If I was to take a guess… I would say most likely," Ruby acknowledged, tossing the slate onto the table next to the platter.
"Great," Weiss fumed as she crossed her arms in a huff, "So we just hired a ship that most likely is overstating its capabilities."
"Ah, you are worrying too much Weiss. That's why you got me and Blake. If it turns out this guy is a complete and total scumbag, I'm sure that we can drop him and take the ship. No sweat" Yang bragged as she flexed her muscle.
Ruby frowned.
She was getting a bad feeling about all of this.
Jaune stretched in the evening air of the hangar. The passengers hadn't shown up yet, and the Juniper was ready to go when they did. Nora had finished the pre-flight maintenance over an hour ago and Ren had called it a night with the pre-flight checks.
Which meant there was only one…well, two more things for them to do.
Get another bottle for the celebratory drink of a job well done and hopefully lure Perry, or whoever it was who had been following him into a trap.
The streets were mostly quiet now. Most of the merchants either had or were still in the process of packing up their wares before they shuffled off to whatever hovel they called home.
However, Jaune still kept his rifle, Crocea Mors, slung across his back. It was never a good idea to go anywhere on Caviis IV without some sort of protection. Doubly so if one was hoping to ambush a group of paid killers working for some pirate gang or crime family.
Jaune whistled a light tune he had picked up in the Royal Valian Academy, as he followed the winding street back down to the bar where he had met his newest customers. His boots kicking up stray clouds of red dust.
It was a quiet night. A calm night.
Despite knowing it would be a trap, despite knowing that there were some people after him, Jaune was still caught completely off guard when two rounds slammed into his chest, knocking the wind out of him and tossing him the ground in a painful heap.
And that was the second thing you should never go without. Jaune thought bitterly as he coughed painfully. A good solid piece of armour.
He pulled his jacket open. His white ceramic and micro-woven nerosteel layered breastplate looked to still be intact. Which was great… even if it still hurt like Hell.
Boots crunched against the ground as dark, shadowy figures, a half-dozen of them, burst from cover in the dark alleyways covering him with various guns and rifles.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here." A man rasped, his voice grating like sandpaper on ancient gnarled bark. "Jaune… Didn't expect you to be out this late."
Jaune groaned.
It wasn't Perry.
He flopped back down and closed his eyes. Well, that was just great.
"Dex…," Jaune gasped as he tried to get up, "Got to say wasn't expecting you."
Dex chuckled through smoke-stained teeth as he stepped into the dim light of a barely lit street lamp. "There's a few, well, actually more than a few, individuals out looking for you, Jaune. I just happened to be the lucky bastard who found you first."
Jaune cursed under his breath. One or two dirt suckers he was prepared to deal with. Three, he was pretty sure they could handle. But if there were more than that after him, then he and his crew were in a lot of danger.
Not that he already wasn't in a lot of danger, considering the circumstances.
Dex took a few steps forward, drawing his pistol and dropping his knee onto Jaune's chest.
"Look Dex…. You can tell the Clan I can get their money…," he coughed out through a beggar's grin.
Dex waved a finger in his face. "Nah Jaune. The Clan don't care about that anymore. You see, time's up. You promised them a payment, you missed it. For the last three months. They want your head."
Dex brought his pistol up and laid the muzzle against Jaune's forehead.
"Sorry Jaune," he apologized without actually sounding sorry at all, "It's nothing personal. Just business."
Jaune couldn't help but chuckle. "I've been hearing that a lot lately."
Just then there was a crack of a rifle and Dex's head snapped back with a spray of blood and bone. His gang stood there, stunned as another two shots rang out, dropping two more in less than a second.
A figure jumped the roof and landed in a neat crouch rifle raised right in front of Jaune. Her long red hair fell elegantly around her shoulders; her bronze coloured armour gleamed in the dim light. Her rifle cracked again, dropping another one of Jaune's would-be killers.
The rest scattered, leaping to cover while firing wildly. Jaune scrambled to his hands and knees and threw himself behind a merchant stall. His rescuer leapt to her feet and seemed to almost glide across the ground.
She was fast. Graceful.
Deadly.
Though Jaune had seen her in action a hundred times before, he knew that even if he could live to see it a thousand times, a million times, a million million times, he would still be awestruck by the sheer, deadly, inhuman grace, of Pyrrha Nikos.
She was among the band of would-be-killers before they had even reached cover, her rifle mag-locked to her back, her xiphos style sword in her hands. She brought it up in a quick stroke, slicing easily through a man's chest, before stabbing into one of his companion's sternum.
Grabbing the dying man, Pyrrha pulled him in front of her, as another one of Jaune's attackers fired off several shots from his pistol. Jaune could hear the thump of bullets hitting her human shield before she threw him off her sword and charged.
She was on him before he had a chance to react, her blood-stained blade slicing through his raised arm, as he attempted to ward off the blow. It fell to the ground, his hand still gripped the pistol, his stump sprayed the ground with blood. With a quick flick of her wrist and a short spin to face her last opponent, Pyrrha casually decapitated the man.
The last surviving member of the gang had already run away, after he had tossed his weapon to the ground to escape the carnage.
Jaune gave a relieved smile as he stumbled to his feet, his hand still covering his chest where he had been shot. Slowly he bent over to pick Crocea Mors from where it had fallen from his back.
"Jaune," Pyrrha smiled fondly with a nod of greeting.
"Thanks for the help." Jaune looked around with a raised eyebrow. "Where's Nora and Ren? Thought they were going to help."
"Guarding the ship," Pyrrha answered, sitting him back down and started to check his chest to make sure his ribs hadn't broken where he had been shot. "Thought there might have been a chance of them coming after it, so I had them stay behind."
Jaune panted painfully as she stripped off his armor. "I'm hoping that's going to be the only one."
"Doubtful," Pyrrha said evenly despite the look of worry in her bright emerald eyes. "They said you've missed the Clans payments."
Jaune muttered another curse. This was the last thing he needed. He didn't need his crew to worry. But now that was kind of out of the bag.
"Just the last couple of months," he admitted after a moment of awkward silence, "We've been in the red for a bit…."
"Why didn't you tell us?" Pyrrha's tone was gentle and filled with concern, as she helped Jaune back to his feet and threw his arm over her shoulder to support his weight. "We've known about the money troubles, but why not tell us about the gangs wanting to collect?"
"It's my job. You shouldn't have to pick up the slack," Jaune insisted as the two slowly made their way back towards the Juniper.
"We're your friends, not just your crew," Pyrrha chided lightly, "We can help you know."
"I'll figure something out." Jaune deflected lamely, "Maybe after this job, we can quit Wild Space. Go join a mercenary band, or sell our services on the Frontier."
"We would still have the syndicates and gangs coming after us. If I'm not wrong in guessing it's not just the Clan we owe money to."
Jaune winced. How she always managed to see right through him? It was uncanny.
"No…" he admitted, lowering his head, "The Spiders want us dead, but that's because they shorted us, so I sold off the remainder of their cargo to Tiandihui. The Clan… well… I promised the Clan a thirty percent return on investment on that Protectorate Run."
"You mean that one where we were almost blown out of space and lost the cargo?" Pyrrha questioned as they rounded a corner.
"Yeah… that one." Jaune remembered bitterly, "I told them I would pay back their investment plus ten percent… but it seems like they were getting impatient."
"There are more, aren't there?" Pyrrha continued to probe with a soft voice; Jaune could tell she wasn't mad but there was a certain amount of disappointment at his own stubborn refusal to inform Nora, Ren and her.
"Yeah," Jaune admitted sheepishly. "The Mercaricus Guild for the repairs last month. The Go-Land Syndicate for hijacking those weapon shipments three months ago…"
As he named off various syndicates and crime families, Jaune was slowly coming to the realisation that the Juniper had overstayed their welcome. They were bleeding money and owed quite a bit to the various gangs, pirates, and syndicates that called Caviis IV home.
"Fuck, I've really messed this up."
"Yes. You have." Pyrrha agreed with a slight smile, as she used her free arm to punch in the code to Hangar Thirty-Two A. "But we're all still together. All of us, you, me, Nora and Ren. We'll figure something out after this job."
"Thanks, Pyrrha." Jaune smiled tiredly as they climbed up the boarding ramp to the Juniper. "Again… What would I do without you?"
The Juniper was like no other ship that Weiss had ever seen. And she didn't mean that in a good way.
The …thing that sat in Hangar Thirty-Two A was a Frankenstein-like monstrosity of various parts, subsystems and wielded on armour plating. It was squat, long and probably the ugliest ship that she had ever seen.
"Good morning ladies," a rather tall and thin towheaded man, called out, as he walked down the boarding ramp. He wore a short white and yellow coat, an armoured breastplate, boots, and dust-coloured trousers and it made him appear like he was some cast-off from a poor frontier paramilitary.
"May I introduce you to the Juniper!" He knocked on the plating. "Fastest tin can in the galaxy." The man grinned proudly before he bowed at the waist. "My name is Jaune Arc - your Captain for the voyage."
"We remember," Yang said, holding out her hand, which Captain took. "My name is Yang, the cat Faunus is Belladonna Zech Blake Ist Dawn's Hope, the one in red is my little sister Ruby and last but not least is Ms. Snow, the academic who we are escorting."
Weiss couldn't help herself as she shook her head at the ship. "It's a piece of junk."
Captain Arc was about to reply when a sharp and angry "HEY!" cut him off.
A short woman with bright red-hair, welders goggles, and a light blue and pink leather jacket lept from the top of the trash heap that these people generously called a ship. She landed with a heavy thud that was well beyond anything someone of her size and weight should have been able to create.
"This ship is the best and greatest ship to ever ship!" The woman shouted as she marched up to the four, fists on her hips, a thunderous scowl on her face. "And she has sensitive feelings too! You need to apologize to her!"
Weiss was taken aback by the diminutive woman who thundered across the hangar to scold them. Weiss could feel Yang tensing up beside her in order to intercept the angry woman just in case she became a threat.
"Nora, Nora!" Captain Arc intercepted the woman before Yang was forced to defend Weiss. "She didn't mean it. She just doesn't know the Juniper. I'm sure once she sees what she can do she'll take it back."
Weiss struggled not to roll her eyes. If the hunk of metal junk didn't fall apart on take-off she would be surprised.
The Captain rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he introduced them. "Ladies, this is my chief engineer, Nora Valkyrie."
The woman, as though having already forgotten her outburst, smiled and waved, before, much to Weiss's surprise, she began grilling them on all sorts of personal matters that no well-bred Protectorate lordling would ever reveal in polite conversation.
"Captain…," Weiss began.
He waved her off with a fond smile. "It's how she assigns quarters."
The woman, Nora, shot him a glare. "It's a precise calculation on which quarters they should get to ensure that we are cursed with as little bad luck as humanly possible, Cap'n. Now then! You with the white hair! What did you eat this morning? What's your shoe size? What time and where were you born?"
Weiss found herself too dumbstruck to not answer.
After this brief and rapid interrogation, Weiss found that she had been assigned quarters on the starboard side with Ruby, while Blake and Yang had been given their own quarters port and aft. All according to this girl's 'logical calculations.'
The inside of the Juniper was as chaotic as the outside, various charms, fetishes, talismans, and idols decorated the hallways and whatever shelving space was available. Some were intricate and delicately made, woven with thin wire and precious stones. Others were simply crude carvings from wood, stone, and bone. Some of the walls were brightly painted, some had weird shapes and bizarre patterns, while others were more traditional in their scenes.
The common area slash dining hall was comfortable and roomy. A homemade rag rug was laid out in the centre, made from white fabric and decorated with a pair of yellow crescents. It felt lived in and homey, so different than the hard and barren ships of the Protectorate.
Ruby was having the time of her life. She ran from room to room, squealing with delight, her previous apprehension all but forgotten as she fired off rapid questions to the Engineer, who fired back answers almost as rapidly. Even more strangely, Ms. Valkyrie didn't seem to mind the strange aura that hung around Ruby. If anything, save for the briefest moment when Ruby had been first introduced to her, Ms. Valkyrie seemed not to feel it at all.
Which made Weiss feel terrible. She had given Ruby this big speech about how she would try to be a better person. Weiss did have to admit that as she and Ruby grew closer together as friends, that aura seemed to dissipate. But to see Nora accept her so readily… Was she that judgemental? That prejudice?
The thoughts continued to eat at Weiss even after the brief tour.
Captain Arc took them to the cockpit introduced them to his first mate and copilot: a quiet and stoic man, with magenta eyes and long black hair by the name of Lie Ren.
Everything seemed to be going well for once.
That was until they met the last of the crew.
Weiss felt her breath catch in her throat. She was awestruck.
It was the only word she could think of. The woman was beautiful, graceful. Every step was measured and every stride was artfully placed. Yet… there was more to it. Weiss almost felt peaceful, safe, protected, like she was in the presence of a goddess-given flesh.
Then the woman caught sight of Ruby…
And she fell to the floor, clutching at her head as she screamed in gut-wrenching pain. A second later she heaved and blood spewed from her mouth, landing in a dark crimson pool.
A/N: Pyrrha and Nora have entered the fray! I hope I do them justice. But what is this? What has happened to Pyrrha? Well, you will have to read to find out.