"Damn, it's nice to be back home," sighed Ruby as she stretched, cracking her knuckles in the process. "And the doc did real nice on my arm too. Yo Yang, whatcha want for dinner?"

"Eh, whatever, I'm not fussy." They approached the run down one story house with it's flakey walls and blocked pipes. It wasn't pretty, in fact, it was on the outskirts of Opportunity, but it was home. "Looks like the snobbish neighbours moved out too."

"Finally, that lady was a real bitch."

"Ruby!"

"What? It's true you know," said Ruby as she glanced over at their neighbor's house with the oh so amazing four stories with a garden maze and fountain that spewed liquid rainbows like the pansies they were. That wasn't even mentioning the tennis court they had or the garage that was the size of a house. "But seriously, didn't we say we were going to blow the house up?"

"Yeah, we can do that tomorrow." There was a squeak as Yang kicked a rat that had scurried out of the pile of metal scrap on their front lawn. "But I thought it was the other neighbour we were going to blow up."

Both of them glanced to their left at the five story, triple fountain, fruit garden on the roof house looked more like a miniature mansion than anything else.

"Eh, no reason we can't do both," said Ruby as she fished for the keys in her pocket. "Yang, you got the keys?"

"Um…" Yang went through each of her pockets. "Nope! I thought you had them."

"Pretty certain it was you. Oh well." With a shrug, Ruby slammed the butt of her rifle into the window before climbing through and unlocking the door. "Done and done."

"Ruby?" Yang pointed at the window on the other side of the door. The one that was still broken from the last time they had forgotten their keys.

"Eh, whatever."

The door was kicked shut, the pile of junk was thrown off the dining room table and their new loot was tossed on top of it. As Ruby began sorting through everything, Yang made her way into the kitchen, waltzing past the pile of dishes that had begun to gain sentience and opening the fridge before blinking at the frozen decapitated head.

"Oh right, new fridge." Closing the door, she opening the lower door and took out a six pack of beer before making her way back to Ruby, passing her a can. "Also, we've still got the head of what's-his-name for that guy out in the wilds. Probably should turn that in at some point."

"Doctor Franks? Yeah, probably. We can do that the next time we head out in that direction. It was a pistol right?"

"Tediore pistol, yeah."

"Meh, we can sell it for five hundred or something. Oooooh, is this a Vladof barrel I see and a Hyperion stabiliser from a sniper? Oh Yang, you always know what I want for Christmas."

"Anything in there for me?" asked Yang as she sat down, throwing her legs on the table.

"Bits and pieces, I can definitely upgrade our guns with this. Do we have any messages on the machine?"

"Dunno, lemme check." Yang looked around the room at the various holes in the walls and ceiling, the mass of trophies of dead things on the wall, the rats scurrying around and their dead pet varkid. "Where did we put the machine again?"

"On the floor."

Yang looked down.

"I think the mould on the floor is alive and it ate our phone."

"Oh stop being silly, it's fi- Huh." Ruby stared at the green thing that had grown up and over the scraps of metal, spare gun parts and the skeletal remains of a cat. "When did we own a cat?"

"Nibbles? So that's where she went. Oh! Here's the machine." Yang scraped the moss off their answering machine and pushed a button.

"You have three messages," came the mechanical reply. "Message one, received on the eighth of the eleventh, at two zero five zero."

"You fucking bitches…" Someone slurred drunkenly. "You twos is… is… yous is both just… fuckin… if I ever see your asses again, I'm gonna shoot em! That's what I'll do! I'll shoot you both you pair of… goddamn psychos is what you are! You know that? Psychos!" Then the voice hiccupped. "I know he was a bandit, but you didn't have to kill my brother you knows!" There was a tone as it hung up.

"Message two," the inoffensively artificial voice continued. "Received on the ninth of the eleventh, at zero nine one three."

"Hello?" The same voice as the previous message said. "Anyone there? No? Okay, well, uhh... I just wanted to apologise to you two for uh… drunk dialing you two. I'm not sure what I said, but I'm pretty sure it, uh, wasn't the nicest. We just had my brother's funeral via explosion, you know, that guy who's head you cut off and then refused to return? Anyway, I had a few drinks and uh… sorry again. You two both deserve to know I think you're excellent bounty hunters, and I don't really blame you for my brother's death. I mean, it'd be nice if you gave his head back, but… anyway. Uh… that's it I guess. Bye."

"Message three, received on the second of the twelfth, at one nine one two."

"Hey, it's uh, me again. Sorry to leave all these messages, but… um… I was in a bounty office today, and I noticed the death warrant for my brother's still open… which means you guys didn't hand his head in yet, right? So I was wondering if, you know, you were still planning on doing that? If not, maybe you can give it back to me so I can blow it up with the rest of his body? If that doesn't work either I understand, just uh, don't hunt me down or anything. Um… bye."

"You have no more messages."

"Huh, maybe we should give him back the head," said Ruby.

"But the money!"

"It'll make us feel good inside?"

The two sisters exchanged a look before bursting out laughing.

Five minutes later, they finally caught their breath and settled back down. "Think you can cook dinner? I wanna get start on upgrading Karl."

"Sure, just let me find Peter and see if he wants any of these things and maybe if he turn the claw into a bayonet," said Yang before glancing down at everything on the floor. "And see if I can sell some of this junk."

"Let me sort through it and we can sell it tomorrow," said Ruby as she dragged a rug full of weapons and their parts towards the basement.

Yang looked down at the piles and piles of scrap metal on the ground before muttering to herself, "That's what you said last time we were home."

With a shrug and shake of her head, she grabbed her shotgun, the chitter parts and double checked her wallet before heading out through the door. She ignored the snotty looks, the incredulous looks and the leery grins from guys who had never done any hard work in their life, and instead made a beeline for the market district. Usually it was packed with people looking for new jewellery or some way to say 'I make more money than you!' without actually saying it, but today it was oddly empty. No need to rub elbows with some Hyperion exec or some trillionaire - whatever the number was up to this time. It was just… empty.

Yang looked around and blinked, watching in amusement as they went out of their way to avoid her. The elevator doors would open and then they'd all run out, nose stuck up into the air with a look of disgust on their faces. Whatever, it meant more elbow space for her. Leaning against the cool glass, she gazed out over the sea and setting sun as she slowly descended down the mountain side. As the door slid open, the crowd waiting for the elevator parted before her as though Handsome Jack was standing right behind her.

A check behind her revealed Handsome Jack was most certainly not behind her.

Hm… Whatever, if they wanted to treat her like royalty, then so be it, Yang wasn't about to complain. As a result, what would have taken at least an hour took a mere ten minutes before she was standing before Kicking and Screeching. The door slid open and Yang stepped through, grinning at the massive stuffed skag that stood dead centre of room.

"Hey! You stuffed Sir Bonsy like we asked you to!" Yang walked around it, her grin only getting wider. "And there's that massive hole I blew in its side before slamming my fist through it, you can barely see it, how'd you manage that?"

"Oh, I simply found and killed a rakk with similarly textured skin!" Peter smiled, or at least Yang thought he smiled. His mouth was covered by his massive handlebar moustache, but his eyes crinkled and his facial hair seemed to glow with positivity for a moment. "Had to hunt down about a thousand of the blighters, but I do take pride in my work. Didn't hurt my own taxidermy collection either!" His belly wobbled as he laughed. He sniffed deeply, before giving Yang a an appraising look. "Hunting Spiderants, were we?"

"Nope!" Yang walked over and tossed her prize onto the counter. "Got there after the party, but picked up a prize. Grimm marked spiderants and from what I've heard, nasty pieces of work. Look at these claws! Sliced through high grade Hyperion armor like cheese and I want a bayonet out of it."

"Oh, marked were they?" He sighed. "I remember Pandora before all that Grimm hullabaloo. Suddenly it's not enough for a skag to be a skag anymore, but now it has to be bipedal and have four arms." He picked up the claws and examined them. "Why, who could forget the Giant Skags? Now those were a challenge fit for a true hunter! None of those pack tactics, just a giant mess of scales, teeth, and laser beams! Pity they're all extinct now." After a moment of examining the claw, he looked up at Yang. "Are you sure this cuts like you said? It seems rather frail."

"Test it out for yourself."

With a shrug, he stabbed it into the counter, only for it to sink through to the joint seemingly without resistance. His eyes wide, he stared at the claw as he pulled it out. "Now that is rather impressive, I admit. Skatters you called them?"

"That's what Blake called them." Yang shrugged. "Also, it was waaaaay better earlier today."

"I would have liked to have seen it then," he mused. "Alright, I'll see if I can shape this for you. I'm not sure about the material, so I won't be able to guess a price for you until I have a bill."

"Hey now, I ain't swimming in money so give me a rough estimate."

"Herm…." He studied it for a moment, before shrugging. "Upwards of five thousand dollars, I should say. No more than twenty thousand."

"Three to five thousand," said Yang.

"Afraid not, my dear." He smiled at her. "Three thousand doesn't even cover the cost of the counter, I just so foolishly ruined. Because you and your sister are sweet hearts… I'll be willing to set the maximum price at fifteen thousand."

"I'm not paying for the counter, you damage that yourself. Maximum seven thousand."

"Now, I'm not blaming you for that my dear, but I still don't even know if my grinder can shape this, or if I'll need to replace another wheel on the thing just by touching the two together… Thirteen thousand. If that's too high for you than I'm afraid I can't help you."

"Why don't you test it with a knife first?"

Peter sighed. "...Twelve thousand maximum, six thousand minimum."

"Not taking that. For all I know, you can whittle it with a knife and it'd be done."

"If you want to try whittling it with your knife, by all means." He replied calmly. "Otherwise, that's the absolute best price I can offer you."

"Fine, you're loss." Yang picked up the limb and slung it over her shoulder.

"Have a nice day, then." He smiled pleasantly.

All the response he got was Yang kicking open the door and stepping back out, glaring at some guy who had stopped to stare at her. "What, got a problem with me?"

He just blinked before sneering and moving on.

She ran a finger along the grip of her gun, eyeing the back of the guy's head before a growl from her stomach made her look down. "Alright, alright, I'll feed you, geez. Should probably buy something for Ruby as well now that I think about it. Hm…"

Once more the crowd parted for her as she made her way back to the elevators and she couldn't help but grin. "Damn, a girl could get used to this."

As much as she wanted to go into one of those fancy restaurants just to see how they would react, she ended up going to their old favourite the Slurp'n'Burp. Kinda fitting since their only good dish was poached spiderant with some fancy red wine thingie-ma-gig and a cute little umbrella.

She would have kicked down the door, she really would have, except for one thing. It was an automatic door. That meant there was one thing and only one thing that was to be done. She slammed her shotgun onto the bar and yelled, "Yo chief, give me a martini, on the rocks!"

"Um… we don't serv-"

"Yang!" A blonde girl poked her head out. "You're back."

"From outer space."

"With that same look on your face."

"I should've made you thro-"

"Wait, wait, wait, are you two quoting a song?" The bartender looked between the two of them. "You don't pay me enough for this."

"You pay her? What is this, you never paid me!" said Yang.

"You also got drunk while on the cloeveryday. If anything you owe me money."

"Technicalities," waved Yang. "So you gonna take my money or not?"

"The usual?"

"Yep." Yang tossed over two hundred. "You would not believe the crap we had to eat up on the space station."

"You mean fancy food that actually tastes good?"

"More like servings that couldn't feed a rat."

"I've seen the rats at your place and those things are more like skags." Alison shuddered. "Just gimme two shakes and I'll have it done. And don't break anything this time."

"Yes ma'am!"

With a chuckle and roll of her eyes, Alison went back into the kitchen, her voice easily carrying as she yelled out some instructions to her minutes later and two steaming bowls were placed before her, smelling slightly smoky with the barest hint of lemon and red wine. Already her stomach was growling louder than ever as she lifted the lid to take a deep whiff before securing the lid once more.

"Thanks babe, you're the best." With her skitter claw over one shoulder, food over the other, Yang made her way back out. "See ya Alison, see ya lady I don't know."

"Just get out and take a bath already!" yelled Alison as the door slid close.

The way back was just as quick and painless, and soon she was sitting down in the comfiness of her own home, napkin tied around her neck as the smell of roadkill filled the air. It was chewy, it was tangy and it tasted of smoke and oranges and hints of citrus. The noodles were also a bonus and Yang found herself lying back, hand resting on her belly as she gave a loud burp.

"Yo, Ruby, get up here, I've got fo-" Yang blinked and stared at the spot where Ruby's bowl had been. A second later there was burst of wind and an the bowl was placed back on the table, swaying slightly and completely empty. "-od. Right. Also, Peter was being a bitch, gonna need to find someone else to shape the claw."

Silence.

With a sigh, Yang tossed the rubbish into the overflowing bin before descending into Ruby's lair. Surprisingly, it was clean, the floor was actually visible and there were containers that were actually being used to hold what the labels said. The large wooden table in the middle had Karl laid out on it and about five different disassembled guns around it.

"So… whatcha working on?"

"Busy."

"I'm just cu-"

"Busy, come back tomorrow morning."

"Come o-"

"Busy, need to focus."

With a groan, Yang rubbed her temples. "Alright, alright, but I wanna hear all about it tomorrow morning. And remember to sleep."

"Sleep is for the weak!"

"Ruby," warned Yang.

"Yeah, yeah, sleep, eat, got it, whatev's."

Yang simply sighed and walked back out. It was better than what she normally got at least. Now, to hit up some old friends, visit some bars, and see if she could find some fun.

The store smelled of old paper and dust, which Blake found quite pleasant. Pandora's main continent was not a nice place by any stretch of the imagination. Dominated by deserts, giant skeletons and surrounded on all sides by alkaline oceans, the only reason anyone lived there was because Dahl originally chose to settle closest to the planet's largest and most valuable ore deposits.

Having grown up in the area, Blake had learned to enjoy the small things while you can. So she took a moment to linger in the second hand book store's doorway and soak in the peace. It had been a trying couple of days after all, having driven through all of last night and been involved in no less than thirteen separate gun fights since boarding the Hindentanic.

After a moment, Blake walked to the counter were a bored looking and morbidly obese man glanced up at her. "What?"

"I'm looking for a book on automotive theft."

He just looked back down at the novel he was reading. "Try the For Dummies section."

"Thank you." Blake told him, even though he ignored it.

It wasn't long until she found it, a yellow and black book with a cartoon on the front of a man in a raider mask trying to open a car with a buzz axe. 'GRAND THEFT AUTO FOR DUMMIES' was printed across the spine in capital letters.

After paying the man, Blake left the shop reading it with one hand as she pushed a trolley with the other. A couple of people gave her odd looks, but this was still Pandora and no one so much as crossed the street to ask about why she was pushing around bound, trussed, gagged woman with a bag over her head in a shopping trolley.

"Hermemf fer hemph!" Weiss shouted.

"I'm afraid I can't understand you," Blake replied placidly as she turned her page.

"Ih uhhing ae uh!" The heiress replied.

Her last stop before leaving town was a locker right next to the Catch a Ride port. Almost all the storage units had been pried open over the years and the whole row smelled vaguely of urine, but a couple of lockers were still shut and functional. Reaching into one of her pouches, Blake took out a key and opened a locker that had a 'ck' painted over it in brown, while the locker to the left of it had an 'fu'. From within the locker, Blake withdrew a duffle bag before making her way to the catch a ride.

Four hours later, Blake gently compressed the brakes on her vehicle, and slowly her buggy drew to a stop. Next to her, Weiss jerked forwards against her seat belt harness despite the relatively gentle deceleration. Blake took a moment to stare ahead of them, an involuntary sense of awe coming over her.

Serenity Valley Space Port and Docks was the single largest construction on the surface of Pandora. Built almost three decades ago at the height of Dahl's power, the entire building was four miles across and half a mile high. Built out of no nonsense, erosion resistant concrete and rust proof metal plating, the titanic structure was only dwarfed by the mountains on either side of it. Dahl corporation had intended for this place to be the centre of all their mining operations on Pandora, but was never finished and had been abandoned at the same time Dahl abandoned the planet and its colonists to their fate.

The massive docks that gaped like open holes on either side of the building were intended to be landing places for no less than eight full sized transport vessels, moving millions and millions of tons of valuable ore offworld every week, but were currently left empty. The only Dahl mining ship still on Pandora and still functioning was Sanctuary, which was currently located closer to Pandora's north pole.

Taking one last moment to admire the sight, Blake reached across and removed the bag from Weiss's head.

First Weiss blinked at the sudden light, but then she could only blink in surprise at structure in front of her. It didn't have as much effect on her as it did on Blake, Weiss having grown up in the megacities and urban deca-scapes of Olympus, but it was still the biggest structure she'd seen since arriving here.

What grabbed Weiss's attention though, was when Blake pulled off Weiss's oversized boots. "Aht ah uo ooin?"

Blake didn't answer, and just started packing plastic explosives inside her footwear.

Weiss's eyes practically bugged out of her skull when Blake tried to put them back on her feet. "Oh! Oh eh oh!"

Her resistance didn't help her, and after some struggling Weiss's feet were now in the squishy, stuffed steel capped work shoes.

"I can trigger the explosives remotely. I also have a deadman's switch, so killing me would be against your best interests." Blake told her and stepped out of the car. After a moment's hesitation she turned back to Weiss and added, "Also, the compound I'm using is slightly passed its use by date. I would advise against walking too hard."

Weiss just gave a muffled scream that was equal parts rage and terror.

Blake ignored her, and from within the bag removed a silenced, scoped, Dahl submachine gun, which she hung over her shoulder via its strap. "Come on. It's not far."

Faced with no other choice, lest she have her feet detonated, Weiss followed after her. She walked gingerly, afraid that any step could set off the clay like substance she was wearing.

They moved inside the building, stepping into what was once a lobby but was now some kind of vintage chair collection. All the blue plastic mass produced chairs were lined in an enormous sitting area, and above them a banner proudly proclaiming, "Dahl, the professional gun for the professional merc," still hung. A water cooler sat in every corner, now filled with some kind of gunky black algae or fungus that had dried out and died over the years.

Passing through into the next room, they were greeted by escalators that no longer escalated and more chairs lying in rows. Blake led Weiss up the machines that were basically now nothing but over designed stairs to the second floor of the Serenity Valley Spaceport.

It was there that Weiss and Blake finally found people, to be specific twenty soldiers of the Crimson Lance one grinning man in a casual wear business suit, and a man with glasses and suspenders standing next to him and glancing about as if afraid.

"Miss Belladonna, you're early!" The smiling man called as the two of them approached. "We weren't expecting to see you until this evening."

The Crimson Lance soldiers, who'd been scattered across the room doing things like searching for bugs (both literal insects and recording devices), setting up what looked like a transmitting station and at least two with snipers over their backs who were in the middle of climbing some columns to higher vantage points.

"Mr Skintilt." Blake greeted, taking note of the slight bulge in his coat that was just the right size for an Atlas Revolver. She looked at the soldiers. "I was told the meeting would just be me, you, and your personal bodyguard."

"Well, maybe they're not personal but these men are certainly my bodyguards." He smiled at her.

Blake stared at his face for a moment, and memorized it for future reference. Apparently that was what a fake smiled looked like. "It looks like you were preparing an ambush for me."

"Yes, I can see how you might think that," he looked over his shoulder at where a soldier who had been putting down a tripod for a rotary barreled machine turret was now cradling his rifle and watching Blake warily.

"...I notice you did not deny it." Blake pointed out.

Skintilt shrugged. "What can I say? Business is business, and cutting out unnecessary expenditures is always good business."

Blake nodded. "I understand."

He blinked at that. "You do?"

"I am willing to leave unpaid, if it reduces the risk to my well being."

"That's… very understanding of you." Skintilt smiled.

"I'm very understanding." She replied, monotone.

Weiss tried to say something, but Blake shoved her towards the soldiers. The Heiress staggered forward a few steps.. "You know, you're being very civil about this, it's a very refreshing change of pace." He gestured at one of his guards. "Bring us the tea and three cups. Miss Blake, do you have a preference? Perhaps a meal. It's only fair since you're being so accommodating, makes me feel like I should return the favor."

"As long as you have green tea, and you're willing to taste my tea first."

"Miss Blake, you wound me with such accusations. If anything, I'd give you a proper death, a fast one at that too, unless you have a preference. One guy wished to be immolated, believed in some fire god or something." A guard came into view, carrying a small table while another put a tea kettle and three cups on the table. "Pick any cup you wish."

After a moment of observation, Blake sat down in the chair to the left, and took the cup closest to herself. She held it out, and a soldier came and poured in a fragrant, rich smelling blend which Blake could tell had a hint of lemon.

Before sipping it, she offered it to Skintilt.

He simply took a sip before handing it back. "Like I said, you accommodate me, and I shall return the favor." He poured another cup and handed it towards Weiss before pouring one final cup for himself. "If you had screamed and thrown a tantrum, I can assure you, this would be very different."

"I do not experience the same emotional responses as humans. If I were angry and or afraid, my instinct would not be to scream." Blake explained, lowering her face mask so it draped around her neck and taking a sip. It tasted smooth, strong, and incredibly fresh. Almost like the leaves used in it were grown just minutes ago. "This is the best tea I have ever had."

"Do you wish for one final meal, or shall we get down to business?"

"So you still intend to kill me?" Blake took another drink, and allowed herself a moment to savor it.

"Unfortunately, you know who we are," he sighed. "It's a shame, you seem like a nice girl, but Pandora has a way of getting rid of nice people. No hard feelings."

"I understand." Blake took off her sunglasses, folded them up, and slipped them into her pocket. "If I may, I have two final requests."

"Of course," he inclined his head, but the guards raised their guns, aimed straight at her head.

"I would like to know why you payed me to rescue Weiss Schnee from the White Fang, meaning that you knew about their attack, but did nothing to prevent the attack in the first place. If your goal was to save her life, you could have done so more easily by capturing or killing the White Fang before they boarded the vessel."

"I wished Weiss Schnee to live and frame the White Fang, of course. Unfortunately, the little Princess' father did not wish to pay up so this entire little plan went up in flames." He patted Weiss on the hand. "Sorry you had to find out this way, it would have been nice if your father actually cared, but apparently Atlas means more to him than his little girl."

"I see," Blake finished her tea. "My second question is what you intend to do with Weiss now that her father isn't going to pay ransom?"

"Need to show her father we mean business. Sorry Princess, but that's things work, nothing personal."

Putting the cup down, Blake undid the first two buttons on her shirt. "I'm sad to hear this. You see, I wasn't actually particularly interested in the money when I agreed to rescue Weiss Schnee."

The guards tightened their grip, finger on the trigger.

Blake continued to undo the buttons on her shirt, seemingly not noticing. "The reason I agreed to your offer was because I was growing tired of the White Fang and their collateral damage. The Hindentanic is just one such example of the amount of innocent lives lost in their attacks. My intention was to save Weiss Schnee purely for the sake of saving her, and to return her safely to her parents, while at the same time completely breaking ties with the White Fang."

"That is a shame, my condolences." He raised his hand and the guards shifted ever so slightly.

"I must apologise to you, Weiss." Blake said as she slowly stood up, and unzipped the kevlar jacket she wore under shirt.

Taking the Heiress's hand, she slowly led her away from the table. Blake's tough shoes gently tapping alongside Weiss's bare feet as they moved to stand ten metres away from the table. "I was wrong, this actually is a kidnapping."

Weiss didn't reply, just swallowing fearfully as the two girls turned to face Skintilt and his men.

Blake crossed her arms, pressing her breasts together and exaggerating the lines of her cleavage. The guards glanced over at Skintilt, uncertain over just what was going on and how to proceed.

"Before you kill us, I would like to explain something." Blake said as she slowly reached a hand under her jacket, and grabbed the tiny sensor that she'd stuck there. "I came to this meeting wearing a deadman's switch. Should my heart stop beating, the explosives I had planted on Weiss Schnee's person will detonate."

"I would like to thank you for letting us know, we shall take that into consideration when we kill you."

"You're welcome." Blake nodded at them. "You should also know that the reason I undid my jacket and shirt was because I've been told that most human males find breasts somewhat distracting. This appears to be true, as none of you have noticed that Weiss Schnee is no longer wearing her boots."

They all froze.

Blake gave a gentle tug with her fingers and removed the sensor that was reading her heart beat. The boots which Weiss had quietly taken off while they'd been sitting down exploded violently. Of the twenty soldier's Skintilt had brought with him, twelve were killed instantly, having stood close enough to the table to keep careful watch on Blake while the discussion happened. Skintilt in particular was reduced to a fine paste that looked remarkably similar to what one might find in a jam jar.

Of the eight surviving soldiers, four of them were thrown off their feet by the force of the blast, two were still hanging from the pedestals they'd begun climbing to get to a good sniping position, and two had their vision obscured by a cloud of fine red mist and dust particles that now hung in the air.

Blake, still holding Weiss's hand, immediately dove into cover behind a row of chairs. Pressing the handcuff keys into the Heiress's hands, she swung the Dahl submachine gun off her shoulder, pressed the but against her shoulder and aimed it at the first of the ill positioned snipers. A burst to his chest killed him, and she swung to the barrel around before finishing off the other.

Gun fire started through the cloud hanging in the air, and a chair a row in front of them exploded into blue plastic chips. Blake returned fire through the cloud, even though she didn't really have a target.

Weiss struggled to her feet, handcuffs clattering to the floor. Pulling down her gag she shouted, "I need a gun!"

"On my hip!" Blake answered, and fired another burst.

The cloud dissipated just as Weiss put her hands on Blake's Vladoff machine pistol. Some of the wounded Crimson Lance tried to stand after being thrown down by the explosion, but were cut apart by Blake and Weiss's combined fire.

"Move to a pillar, I'll cover you." Blake said calmly, forcing one of the unharmed Crimson Lance to duck back behind his concrete column with a burst.

Weiss hesitated, before dashing out from behind the chairs and taking position behind one of the massive steel pillars. The soldier to her right ducked out of cover to hose Blake's position with burning ammunition, but Weiss opened fire on him and caught his hand before he managed to pull back into cover. Taking the chance, Blake jumped over the row of seat in front of her and charged up to hide on the other side of his pillar. Awkwardly reaching around the column, she blindly sprayed into him at point blank.

A pink mist of blood burst into the air, Weiss shifted fire to pin down the last soldier. All he could do was hide in place and wait for the heiress to reload. When her gun ran dry, he immediately leaned out of cover to shoot, just in time to see a grenade Blake had taken from the belt of the man she'd killed hit him in the face.

And stick there thanks to the mod on it.

He died much the same way Skintilt did. If he was ever going to receive a funeral, it would have to be closed casket.

Silence rang out, interrupted only by the groan of one of the wounded soldier's who'd survived the explosion but hadn't tried to stand. Without a word, Blake zipped her kevlar vest back up and started to redo her buttons while walking towards him. She finished while she was standing over him, then took out her wire and began to strangle him.

In the corner of Blake's eye, she noticed Weiss approaching, gun at her side. She looked up at the Heiress, and was surprised to see a look on her face she'd never seen on anyone before. Her eyes were unfocused, dim, even while scanning the dead and mangled around them. Her knuckles were white against the gun in her hand, and she seemed to be swaying slightly.

"Wh… what am I supposed to do now?" Weiss asked, swallowing. "My own father's own company tried to kill me, and my father… he… was willing to let me die. I can't go back to that, can I? What am I supposed to do now?"

Blake looked up at her feeling slightly confused herself. Wasn't the answer obvious? Tilting her head to the side, she said, "You collect fifty percent of the loot."