"Have fun!" Yang cheerfully said to the new arrivals, writing their names down in the registry. She watched the couple go hand-in-hand onto the crowding dance floor, then sighed contently. This was a good idea, taking over for CFVY, she thought. I think we needed the distraction.

The ballroom doors opened, causing Yang to look up. "Hey!" she called out as she recognized the pair. "You're just in time!"

Emerald and Mercury stopped at the registry book. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," Mercury said.

"Perfect!" Yang readied her pen. "This party's about to take off any time now. I can feel it!"

Emerald smiled as she tried to give the list a peek. "Is there a Markus Frude here?"

"No, he won't be here tonight," Yang answered. "He's been away on a mission since yesterday."

"Oh!" Mercury exclaimed, bumping Emerald on the shoulder with a hand. "So that's why we can't find him."

"Have you been looking for him?"

"Oh yes," Emerald said. "We've been dying to know what it was like to go up against Roman Torchwick."

"Few people go up against him alone and live to tell the tale," Mercury added.

"And we've already heard intriguing things about him."

"You should talk to Ruby," Yang said. "She knows more about him than I do. Bit of a social recluse, that one."

"Him, or your sister?" Emerald asked.

Yang let out a light-hearted laugh. "Both!"

Mercury and Emerald gave each other a quick exchange of glances. "I'm gonna check out the punch bowl," Mercury said. "Want one?"

"Sure," Emerald replied. "I'll be by Ruby if I can find her."

"Have fun, you two!" Yang beckoned as the doors opened again.

Emerald only had to take five steps before spotting Ruby, standing like a newborn filly on unsteady legs, and looking about as uncomfortable as possible. She couldn't help but to laugh as she went closer. "Not accustom to heels or playing dressup, are you?"

Ruby's face lit up upon seeing Emerald. "Hey! You made it!" Her excitement nearly made her fall, as she flailed her arms to keep her balance. "I don't understand how you can fight in these."

"You get used to it after a while," Emerald said as she stood beside Ruby. "The payoff is worth it. The heel concentrates the force of a kick to a tiny, precise area."

"I'll stick to my boots," Ruby said, looking down at her feet. "You should have seen me when I first put them on. I had to learn to walk again."

Emerald smiled in amusement. "To each their own." They stood in silence, watching as attendees continued to arrive. "So," Emerald started, "I've been hearing about a student who went up against Roman Torchwick by themselves, and walked away to tell about it." She faced Ruby. "Know anything about that? All I've been getting is rumor and conjecture."

"Oh, you must be talking about Markus."

"Is that his name?" Emerald asked in feign excitement. "From what I've been hearing, he sounds like quite the fighter."

Ruby laughed quietly. "I don't think he'd appreciate it much if he heard you call him as a fighter."

"Oh?"

"I think he'd prefer 'peacekeeper,' or maybe 'dispenser of justice,' something along those lines." Ruby paused to think. "Come to think of it, I don't really care to see him as a fighter, even if he has bested all of us."

"Really?" Emerald asked, now fully engrossed.

"Well, most of us. He dueled Pyrrha once… for an entire class period."

Emerald stared at Ruby in disbelief. "You're kidding."

"Nope! Neither could land a hit on the other. We sat in the amphitheater, watching as their Auras refused to go down." Ruby reached for a nearby glass. "They eventually agreed to call it a draw, and I remember Markus saying, 'We could do this until the Earth Mother calls us home, but we don't have that kind of time today.'"

They laughed. "He seems formidable, nonetheless."

Ruby took a drink from her glass. "He's had advanced training by a personal mentor."

"I see," Emerald said. "So what do you know of him, besides his… peacekeeping skills? He seems like quite the character."

"He's very… reserved, and quiet most of the time. I like to think he speaks only out of necessity. He rarely lets things bother him, and he's quick to forgive, pointing out the error in someone's way, and then gives that person a chance to redeem themselves." Ruby scanned the room. "Has something to do with his belief in bringing things into balance. Take Cardin, for example." Emerald's gaze followed Ruby's, seeing the towering man engaged in a lighthearted but lively discussion with three others, two of them Faunus. "He used to look down upon and bully anyone who was a Faunus. Now he works with the Beacon extension of the Faunus Rights Awareness campaign."

Emerald was genuinely surprised. "What a truly noble soul."

"Yep!" Ruby happily said. "If there was a truer embodiment for the hope of the future, it's him. He sees the world for what it could be, I think."

Emerald's genuine shock passed. "If only everyone thought as he did."

"They could. 'They just need to see,' as he would say."

A small throat laugh came out of Emerald. "I have a feeling some of our enemies are too far gone to see that kind of… utopian existence."

"Nope."

A bewildered Emerald face Ruby again. "No?"

Ruby shook her head. "Nope. 'No soul is beyond redeeming,' as he would also say."

Emerald shivered as a wave of confusion washed over her. She took a rapid, frantic breath, having to lean against a nearby chair. "It's too bad he's not here. I would very much like to meet him."

"Yeah," Ruby disappointingly said. "What a bummer time to be called away on a mission."

Don't think, Emerald thought. Obey. "What could have been so important to be called away from the Vytal Festival?"

"He briefly talked to us about it before leaving. Something to do with tracking down the crew from a hijacked Bullhead."

"Oh, so he's down south." Emerald went wide-eyed, taking a quiet gasp.

"Yeah," Ruby said with mild suspicion. "How did… you know?"

"I-I saw a CCT news broadcast about the thefts, and put two and two together," Emerald said with a small laugh.

Ruby laughed with her. "Well, your super deducing skills are right."

Emerald relaxed, letting out an inaudible sigh. "We keep talking about just him. What about his team?"

"Oh, well… he doesn't have one." Ruby took another drink. "Markus is down there, operating all by his lonesome."

Emerald hummed. "It takes a strong soul to go it alone."

"That's our Markus, though," Ruby said, then finishing her drink. "I'm gonna go get a refill. Want one?"

Emerald declined, and watched as Ruby crossed the dance floor. Mercury stealthily approached beside her. "How was the chat?" he asked. "Are you two bonded sisters now?"

She gave him daggers for eyes before pointing to an unoccupied balcony. "Ten minutes. There."

Ten minutes later, Emerald observed the commotion below her. "It appears all the dancers have parters."

"How long do I have?" a voice radioed in.

"We should probably be home by midnight, just to be safe," Mercury said.

"I'll keep my eye on the clock." Cinder's transmission ceased with a click.

Emerald sighed, letting her smile drop. "Mercury, I almost blew it."

"What?" he asked. "Your dance steps?"

"Our cover."

Mercury sat up from the railing on which he was leaning, squaring up to Emerald. "You did what? How?"

"I was asking Ruby about Markus and his whereabouts, and she said he was going after the Bullheads the White Fang stole, and I mentioned in passing that puts him down south, and she… she gave me the suspicious eye."

"Do we need to -"

"No," she interrupted. "I managed to recover, blaming what I heard on the CCT news, and she bought it."

Mercury sighed heavily. "Are you and Roman trying to compete for who can screw things up the most? You're better than that. How could you be so careless?"

Emerald fought for words, taking in a flustered breath. "At least I recovered enough to not arouse a connection."

Mercury shrugged. "You've got him there."

"Though, I'd appreciate it if this stayed between us."

"I dunno," he said, leaning back. "It might be funny to see what Cinder would do to you if she learned about it." Mercury saw Emerald's face flash worry. "Your secret is safe with me… for now."

"Don't get any funny ideas. But we need to tell our White Fang liaison about a possible intruder."

"It'll take at least a day for a message to get down there. It isn't the best place for Scrolls to work."

Distracted by their conversation, the two missed Ruby step outside, seeing a shadow move from rooftop to rooftop, and choosing to investigate.

"Day three," Markus said, watching the dying embers in the fireplace. "I'm about to depart my temporary housing for the nearby mountain range." He brought up a map, squinting in the sudden bright light. "Oran has told me that the White Fang was headed in that direction, and they're my best lead thus far. Though, it begs the question of why go there."

"The abandoned mine shafts," Lilac's sudden voice echoed in the serenity of the hall. Markus closed his Scroll, seeing Lilac's face illuminated by candles. "The foothills were once a source of Dust, but that was years ago."

"How large of an operation was it?"

"Relatively small, when compared to the Schnee Dust Company, but big enough to send a few people into early retirement."

"I see," Markus said. "Well then, for what should I be on the lookout?"

"Stereotypical mining faire," she said. "Holes in the side of a hill, supported by wooden beams."

"Okay," he said, taking his packed bag and slinging it over his back.

"Leaving already?" Lilac asked. "The mountains will always be there."

"I've had this… feeling all morning," Markus said, adjusting the straps, "that time is no longer on my side. Your father said the foothills are three days away." He grinned. "I'm hoping to get there in two."

"Aggressive," Lilac quietly mentioned, "but not an unheard of feat."

"Lilac," Markus said with a bow, "thank you for your hospitality."

"Goodbye Markus," she said, watching him walk to the door. "May Lady Destiny guide your path."

Markus stopped as his hand made contact with the handle, before shaking off his thought, and stepped into the cold predawn air.

To: Southern Field Commander

Subject: Intrusion

We have reason to believe an enemy operative, a student from Beacon Academy, is active in your area. Although we believe this student is operating alone, sourced information on this particular individual has led us to consider and label him as a major mission threat.

Because of your mission critical asset acquisition, I am recalling you to our preliminary staging area in the northern regions. You have been ordered to evacuate immediately, and take only what is necessary. Be forewarned, when you receive this message, there is a strong possibility the operative is nearing your location. Time is working against you.

However, should the opportunity present itself, and you spot this threat, you may engage, but do so at your own discretion. This one is not to be underestimated. Return with proof of your victory, and you will be rewarded.

Leave the prisoners. They've served their purpose.

-A

"Day five. I have reached the foothills, or rather the first line of them." Markus surveyed the landscape. "The path I was taking began to curve too far to the north, and I decided to abandon the path altogether. This first line of foothills looks to only go up a few hundred feet, and the ones behind them raise well beyond a thousand. If I wanted to put a base of operations anywhere, it'd be here."

Markus started to put his Scroll away when it began to beep frantically. He reopened it and pressed the alerting icon, bringing up a local map. His eyes widened when he saw the two Vale Armed Forces logos at a location further ahead. He started to run, switching back to his recorder. "I just picked up two V.A.F. identification frequencies! I'm double-timing to investigate!"

Twenty minutes into his run, his Scroll beeped yet again. He slowed his pace to see Castillo was attempting to make contact. Why? She knows she'll be giving away my position.

He opened the device. "Markus! Holy… you're a hard man to find!"

"Castillo!" Markus typed in the location of the ID tags. "Meet me at these coordinates!"

"No can do, Markus," she replied as a fit of static came through. "Somethin' happened in Vale yesterday. I have orders to abort, extract, and bring you home."

"But I think I found the missing troopers!"

Silence initially responded, indicating Castillo was thinking. "Coordinates received. I'll relay them to the southern V.A.F. extension so they can investigate."

"Not good enough, Castillo. You can either meet me there or go back to Beacon and report that I'm missing."

"If I go back to Beacon," she said, full of scorn, "I'm reporting you a AWOL."

"I'm not in the military, Castillo. You can't." Markus shut his Scroll and continued his run to the designated location, discovering it no more than ten minutes later. A large area of dirt had been moved and shaped into a flattened square, painted white lines denoting it as a landing zone. The immediate area was riddled with the showings of recent human activity; more discarded heaters, food wrappers, and the foul stench emanating from a nearby latrine. To the left of the latrine was a mine opening, old wooden supports still holding, but weathered by the elements.

Markus withdrew his Scroll and began taking pictures when a groan came from the entrance. He jumped to cover at the mine's side as another pained cry came out. "Anyone there?" a voice called out.

"State your designation!" Markus called back.

"V… A… F… eight-two-nine-seven-seven dash four-alpha."

Markus checked his mission notes to confirm. "What's your clearance?"

The mine echoed, "Olly oxen free!"

Markus stood, recognizing the all-clear phrase. He rooted around his pack for a flashlight, then entered the mine. "Keep talking to me, soldier. Where are you?"

"Just…" a pause came as Markus heard a breath being drawn, "around the corner. I can… see your light."

Markus rounded a sharp corner and shined the light to see the two troopers, one still held up by shackles, the other seated on the ground, leaning on the rock wall. Their uniforms were caked in dirt, dried blood spotted their faces, and when the freed one looked up, his eyes were glazed.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," he said.

Markus briskly walked over to the two, throwing his pack close by. "First aid kit is in the main compartment. Extraction is on its way." He turned his attention to freeing the shackled trooper. "What's your name?"

"Finn," the conscious one said. "That one, we call him Mac. Got any water?"

"Same compartment, steel canteen," Markus said, lowering the now loose Mac to the ground. "What happened here?"

Markus reached over for his pack, seeing Finn taking an extended draw from his water bottle. "White Fang," he said. "Got themselves a Bullhead, faked a distress call, took us by surprise." He coughed. "Brought us here, interrogated us, wanted to know any other lightly defended southern bases."

"I don't suppose they, by chance, said why, did they?" Markus asked as he assessed Mac. Markus put a hand by Mac's mouth, feeling a breath move past it.

"Never did, no," Finn replied, "but they sure left in a hurry yesterday. Packed up all their stuff… well, most of their stuff." He took another pull from the canteen. "Must have got new orders."

"Or someone tipped them off, saying I was here," Markus said. "They must not have wanted me to make the connection between them and the stolen Bullheads."

"Could be, yeah." Finn managed to stand. "Mac passed out about an hour ago. When's pickup?"

"Soon," Markus assured, "within the next hour. My ride was just inside Scroll range when she contacted me."

"Wait, Scroll range?" Finn squinted at Markus. "You're not with V.A.F.?"

"I'm with Beacon Academy."

"Damn," Finn said in awe. "Didn't realize we warranted a rescue from a Huntsman."

"Technically, this wasn't a rescue mission, but it turned into one."

Finn poured a bit of water onto the tips of his fingers, and ran them over Mac's cracked lips. Mac responded by curling them inward. "That's a good sign, at least."

"Feel well enough to watch him for a second? I'm going to check the status of our ride."

"Yeah," Finn said, nodding. "Yeah. It's amazing how much better a bit of water can make you feel."

Markus put a reassuring hand on Finn's shoulder as he stood, heading for the entrance. "Castillo," he said into his Scroll as he stepped into the late morning air.

"You won me over," she replied, "and I've got a southern extension Bullhead following me."

"I knew you'd come to your senses. What's your ETA?"

"Forty-five minutes, give or take. We're charging hard to your location."

Forty-one minutes later, Markus heard the familiar sounds of a Bullhead in flight. He went out of the mine, flare pistol in hand, and fired it into the air. He watched the two craft bank toward the new column of smoke, and walked back inside.

"Pickup is imminent!" he shouted down the corridor. "Can he walk?"

"A little," Finn said back. "We're on our way out."

Markus didn't hesitate to go back to Finn and Mac, seeing Finn under Mac's shoulder, more carrying than helping walk. Markus grabbed his supply pack, then assisted Finn on the opposite side. They emerged from the mine to see one of the Bullheads on the improvised landing zone, Vale soldiers exiting it.

"What is this place?" one asked.

"Abandoned White Fang operations base," Markus replied. "These two need medical attention."

"Alright," the one who spoke before said as he moved to take Markus's place. "We'll head back to base and deliver these two, but this place warrants investigating." He pointed to the sky. "Your ride will pick you up as soon as we're airborne."

"You're a damn hero, Markus!" Finn shouted as they were boarding their Bullhead.

Markus gave a waved hand response. "I'm just doing this for a grade," he muttered under his breath. The Bullhead powered up as soon as its crew was aboard, being replaced by Castillo's own craft. He climbed up to board, banging on the bulkhead separating the cockpit and main compartment, when he felt the ship lunge, forcing him to grab a hanging strap to brace himself.

He donned a headset. "By the Mother, Castillo!"

"Hey!" she angrily shouted back. "If I get chewed out because we're late, that's solely on you!"

"That's fine. I'm sure they'll understand after I tell them about the two lives we saved." The Bullhead's turbine's turned. "So why the urgent recall?"

"Vale was attacked yesterday."

Markus stood stunned, not noticing the loss of feeling in his hanging arm. "Attacked?"

"Yeah. You know the old subway system that connected the city with Mountain Glenn?"

"I know of it, yes."

"The White Fang apparently got the tracks cleared, loaded bombs on a train, and blew holes above them as they charged into Vale, letting in all manner of Grimm. The train eventually crashed through an old station."

Markus let go of the handle, and slid down a panel to sit. "Do we have an update on the containment situation?"

"The Grimm are dead and the breach is contained, thanks to the timely arrival of Atlasian forces, and that Glynda witch."

"That's Glynda Goodwitch, Castillo." Markus's head leaned back. I'm never going to hear the end of it from Ironwood, about how his soulless soldiers saved the day.

"Anyway, your man Ozpin has been removed as chief of security for the Vytal Festival by the Vale Council. I'll give you two guesses as to who his successor is."

Markus closed his eyes. "Ironwood?"

"Yep. He's the one that ordered your immediate return, claiming it was in the interest of all attendee's safety."

I should have assumed as much, Markus thought with scorn. Professor Ozpin would have never jeopardized my position with such a careless recall, and Ironwood has never had faith in Beacon students being able to hold their own. "Were there any casualties?"

"Other than a few broken bones from the breach, no."

"Thank the Mother."

The next hour passed in relative silence, occasionally interrupted with idle chatter, and Markus being told that Finn and Mac would make a full recovery. A sense of relief overcame Markus. It seems I'll have many thing for which to thank the Mother tonight.

A faint beeping came from the cockpit, of which Markus initially paid no mind. As the monotone alert continued unabated, he sat up. "Is everything well up there, Castillo?"

"Uhm," she stammered out, "that depends on the answer to the following: What are the flight designations of the Bullheads that went missing?"

Markus reviewed his mission notes. "They were VAF zero-two-five-nine, and VAF zero-three-oh-six."

"Welp, everything's not fine. Because guess who just showed up on radar? You'd better get up here."

Markus stood, making his way through the cockpit threshold. "Which one is it?" he asked as he sat in the copilot's seat.

"Both of 'em," Castillo said, pointing to the radar display. Two blips that showed friendly identification were closing quickly. "They're still a ways out, but they're also moving at double our speed."

"How soon can we expect an intercept?"

Castillo ran the numbers through her mind. "Twelve minutes."

Markus gazed at the two closing dots on the screen. "Do we know for a fact they're coming for us?"

"It's safe to assume they are," Castillo said with a touch of worry. "I sped up when they first entered range, and they matched it."

"Yaw twenty degrees to port," Markus said.

"Excuse me?"

He picked his head up from the display. "Let's see if they really are, or if they'll just go about their merry way."

"Whatever floats your boat, man." Castillo pressed down on a pedal, shifting the nose left. Markus watched as the horizon slid to the east, before the radar gave off another series of alarms. "Yep, they are. Bogeys have janked back for an intercept, time now… eight minutes."

"Increase speed?"

"What's the point? They'll just speed up, too, but they're probably having a rough ride. Bullheads aren't designed to go that fast."

Markus pointed to the two represented craft. "How are they managing it?"

"I dunno," Castillo said, throwing her hands up. "Maybe they have nothing left to lose since you found them out."

"Great," Markus said, sitting back. "What do we do?"

"They've most likely locked onto our ID, so hitting the deck is out."

"Any other friendlies in the area?"

"Nada."

"What about scrambling -"

"They won't get here for at least fifteen minutes."

"Can you buy any time?"

Castillo looked over her instrumentation displays, then pushed the stick forward along with the throttle control. A devious grin crept onto her lips. "Let's see how bad they want it." As they descended, she punched buttons on a frequency display. "Southern VTOL control, this is Shocker. Come back?"

"Solid copy, Shocker," a male voice said back into their headsets.

"We've got two bogeys on radar, VAF zero-two-five-niner and zero-three-oh-six, friendly craft, presumed jacked. They are on an intercept course with VAF oh-oh-seven-four. Requesting assistance."

"Roger. Standby seven-four." Tense silence passed as both Markus and Castillo anxiously awaited a response. "Emergency scramble call has already been ordered. Birds are away and en route. ETA is nine minutes."

"Solid copy," Castillo acknowledged. She switched channels on the radio. "At least someone knows what they're doing."

"Do you?" Markus asked, motioning to the radio.

Castillo pulled back on the stick, leveling out. "I'm tryin' to find what frequency they're using." Her eyes were fixated on the ground, keeping a visual tab on their altitude while her ears intently listened to the passing bandwidths. Her head picked up as one channel passed then returned.

All Castill did was raise an eyebrow. "What is it?" Markus inquired.

She switched back to the original station. "Apparently there's a White Fang bounty on our heads. They're coming to collect."

"Fantastic."

"Markus, I know this isn't your forte," she hit a series of buttons on the center command console, "but I really need you to take the tail gunner seat." As Markus stood, she continued. "It's loaded with flak rounds, so you won't have to lead your target as much."

"Castillo, just because I don't use them, doesn't mean I don't know how."

"Just making sure."

Markus gave her a wink before walking to the back of the craft. A small section had opened between the tail fins, a fixed gun protruded into the open air, and a fixed seat attached to the gun's main base sat unoccupied. "The gun should have power," he heard in his headset. "You just need to lock 'n load."

Markus sighed. "I don't understand," he began to mutter under his breath as he opened the ammunition boxes, "why we all can't get along," he strung a line of munitions into the underside breach of the turret, "just because some people look different." Markus pounded the loaded breaches shut. "But no, humans have to subjugate other not like them," he pulled the center action back and released, loading the gun, "because reasons."

"Contact in three minutes! They're approaching from five o'clock high!"

"Copy, Captain." Markus squinted out the opening, seeing two faint dots. "I have visual contact."

"Solid copy. They'll be in -"

"They'll be what?"

"They've got a lock! They're packing missiles!" The Bullhead jolted. "Incoming! Deploying countermeasures!"

Tufts of bright lights shot from the wingtips of the tail fins, falling to the ground. Markus saw the smoke of the missile approach, then veer and follow the lights. It detonated upon making contact.

"Nice one, Castillo!"

"Here comes another! It's maintaining its lock!"

"Countermeasures?"

"Recharging!"

Alright, Markus thought as he spied the missile in the gun's sights. Lead the target, and… He pressed down on the trigger buttons, sending the radar-enabled rounds toward the projectile. Three of them bounced off close enough signatures to detonate, their shrapnel shredding the missile into pieces.

"Woooo!" Markus cheered as he saw the missile fall.

"Good shooting back there!"

Markus looked back to the pursuing craft, seeing them gaining ground. "Castillo, they're closing!"

"I see that. Fire intermittently and around them. Maybe it'll cause them to break off."

Markus thumb pressed down on the trigger again, letting three rounds go, moving, firing five, moving again, then two. He continued to fire sporadically before one flak round detonated in close proximity to one of the pursuing Bullheads, causing it to bank.

"Port side Bullhead is breaking!"

"I see that. Well done, Markus!"

As the two relished in their momentary victory, the main cannon on the undamaged Bullhead spun up. "You know, maybe I should -" Markus stopped to see the spinning barrels flashing. "Down!" he yelled. He ducked, just as metallic shards exploded around him. The rounds from the cannon blast ripped through the tail gun, moving to the starboard and up into the tail fin.

The exploding stopped, and Markus sat back up, check for holes on his person. When he made sure he was still whole, he put a hand to his ear. "Castillo, are you still active?"

"Yeah! Copilot's chair is torn to pieces. Fire back!"

Markus resumed on the controls, but when he went to move, only a grinding of metal resulted. He pushed the triggers to no result. "Tail gun is trash!"

"Alright, we'll do this the hard way," he heard Castillo mutter. "Strap in, we're gonna go inverted!"

"Wait," Markus said as he tightened down his belt, "are Bullheads designed to go inverted?"

"Nope, but I just got a crazy idea! Squeeze your legs!"

Markus felt the craft accelerate, then sharply ascend. "Oh, that's the ground!" he shouted in panic as he tensed every single muscle in his lower half. He heard the turbine inclination rotors begin to work, before the engines shut off completely. "Castillo! What are you doing!?"

"Drawing a cursive 'L' in the sky!" The craft tipped over, Markus's vision now encompassing the early afternoon sky. The engines fired, rotated, and engaged. The Bullhead pulled up, and Markus's vision went gray as the blood pulled away from his head. The ship leveled and his vision returned, as he heard the spinup of the Bullhead's main cannon and felt the vibration as it fired.

A muffled explosion came from in front of them. "Splash one!"

Markus watched the enemy Bullhead came into view as they flew over it, spiraling down to the ground, people jumping from the craft. "I've got a count of three chutes," he said to Castillo.

Two new passing Bullheads flew into Markus's view. "Yeah, they see them."

"VAF oh-oh-seven-four," a new voice radioed in, "this is the southern extension emergency scramble team. We've got tabs on the retreating Bullhead, and you are to proceed with your mission. Helluva stick you got there. Next time you're down this way, drinks are on us!"

"Imma hold you to that," Castillo said back. "Shocker, out." The turbines powered once again, propelling them toward Vale.

Markus roused to his feet, observing the damage. Where there was a cannon now sat two tubes, one cleanly broken, in line with an opening ripped though the main bulkhead. "Are we going to be able to make it back?"

"Oh yeah, not a problem," Castillo said in her normal tone.

Markus sat in the middle of the Bullhead, folding his legs and bowed his head. Thank you, Earth Mother, for seeing me through this day. This is going to be quite the tale.