A World of Wild Wild Evolution

by erttheking

Life in Remnant is about to change. Courier number 6 investigates something wrong at the isolated Big Mountain research facility and has his life turned upside down. Inspired by Light at the End by BlindingPhoenix

11. Homo Homini Lupus

Chapter 9

Homo Homini Lupus

XXXXX

James told himself to breathe. He was on Ironwood's flagship, good God in heaven he was on a battleship that was flying through the sky. The ocean was some thousands of feet below it, lapping lazily in the noontime sun. His breath came in short ragged bursts, and he had to force himself to slow down as he looked outside of a viewport. This had gone well beyond experiences that had once been commonplace in the Pre-War world, he was fairly certain he had passed that a long time ago and gone straight into the fantastic. Blimps, hot air balloons, and planes just didn't compare to a fully combat-ready warship that could fly. It didn't feel real, and yet it was right in front of him.

Feeling dizzy, he forced himself to take a step away. There was no point in giving himself vertigo. It was his third day on the ship in question, it having left for Atlas at the head of a formation of half a dozen airships of similar class, if slightly smaller. The general himself was leading this force back to his homeland, with Qrow, Team RWBY, JNPR, and quite a few other student teams in tow. And him.

"For all I'm worth," he grumbled to himself. There was just no getting around the fact that the teenagers on this ship, with the possible exception of Jaune, could fight circles around him with raw talent and Aura experience. Still, he had said yes when he had been asked. Even with that unpleasant thought in the back of his head, he reminded himself that he was far from useless. He had managed to hold his own against Marie F., and if even all he could contribute was keeping her away from the students, it would be enough.

Walking through the ship, staying just aware enough of his surroundings to ensure that he didn't walk into anyone or go anywhere he wasn't allowed, his mind wandered. Not to anything in particular, it was jumping all over the place in fact. He still had half a bottle of whiskey stowed away in the private quarters he had been given. His friends were likely still on Earth, no doubt wondering if there was a way to bring him back or if he was dead. This trip was going nowhere as fast as he wanted it to. "What's rattling around in your head?" ED-E asked, floating alongside him.

"A bunch of stuff amounting up to a whole lot of nothing," James said wearily. "You know, I don't think I like rides that take more than a few hours. I like walking. It makes me feel like I'm doing something. My caveman brain feels like I'm doing nothing right now, even though we're crossing an ocean in under a week, something that would take at least a month by boat. But it doesn't register that, it just thinks that I'm sitting on my ass doing nothing and I'm going stir crazy." It was true. It was a niggling little thought that tore at him, and it was why he was walking around aimlessly. To trick his brain to thinking he was doing something productive. "Two more days of this?"

"Two more, then the bitter cold of Atlas," a somewhat familiar voice said. James craned his neck. A young woman with dark skin and green hair was walking down the corridor towards him, waving as she came. "I'm surprised to see you here Mr. Walker," she said good-naturedly. "I thought you would've stayed at the school."

James took a moment to rack his brain for memories of this woman, and then it came to him. Emerald, the woman whose friend had lost in chess to Han. "I could say the same," he replied. "This whole mess has mainly involved Vale and Atlas, not so much your country." He didn't remember which country she and her team had come from, and as such deliberately didn't bring up any specific names. He only remembered that they weren't natives to Vale and Emerald lacked the prim and proper uniforms of Ironwood and Winter, indicating she wasn't part of the Atlas military.

Emerald paused for a moment, holding her arm. "It's a tough decision to make," she said somberly, her previously happy demeanor falling away. "Cinder's been really worked up over everything that's been happening lately. Mercury not so much, but you met him." She gave an annoyed sigh. "You can count the number of things he actually cares about on your fingers." James had only met Mercury a grand total of once, so he chose not to comment. Even if he didn't have a hard time imagining it. "Cinder though? I can't remember the last time I saw her this mad about something. She really wants to get even with the White Fang."

"What about you?" James asked. "You've been talking about how the rest of your team is handling this, but you haven't talked about yourself yet." In his experience, that could be a cause for worry. A person who cared more about what was going on with other people and neglected to take care of themselves.

"Well…," Emerald said idly, squeezing her arm. "Honestly, I've just been trying to not think about it too much. If I do I just make myself upset, and that's not really productive is it? Not when we're stuck here cooling our heels for the moment." James nodded. It wasn't exactly the way he would want to deal with it, but he could hardly blame her. Still, he had a feeling she wasn't telling him everything.

He had pushed his luck plenty of times in the past, doing it now wouldn't hurt. It would just take a few logical deductions and leaps. Emerald seemed to care much more about Cinder than Mercury, at least outwardly. That could be an opening. "You're trying to be strong for Cinder, aren't you?" he asked.

"I...suppose," Emerald said hesitantly, not making eye contact with him anymore. "She's really upset right now. Everything the White Fang and these Legion people have done has really affected her in a way that it just didn't for the rest of us." Cinder was a bit of an enigma for James. Partly because he had only spoken to her a grand total of one time, but also because she seemed rather reserved. He had a hard time imagining her getting particularly emotional. Then again, there was a good chance that she was a different person in private, more than a few people were cut from that cloth.

"Did anyone she knows get hurt by the recent attacks?" James asked. He was most certainly toeing the line of what could be considered his business, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. Thankfully, instead of outrage at intruding on personal matters, the response he received was instead a blink of confusion. In fact, Emerald looked downright baffled at his question, and it took her a few seconds to formulate a response.

"Oh, no no. Nothing like that," she said. "She's just very empathetic towards other people. You must know where she's coming from. You're not from around here and yet you're signing up to stop the White Fang and the Legion, aren't you?" James nodded. That was a fair point, even if it didn't really match up with his conceptions of Cinder. Then again, there were times when he thought he really should stop being a judgmental asshole. "Speaking of which, do you know much about these Legion people? They just kind of came out of nowhere, didn't they?"

James blinked. The nature of the Legion was a bit of a tricky question for him to answer, if only because he hadn't decided on how much he was willing to share about Earth and how he got here. There was simply so much delicate information there, and he couldn't shake the thoughts that had come to him on his first day in Remnant. Remnant could steamroll Earth utterly if it wanted to, and the more people that knew about it, the more potential attackers it could one day have. There was a very good chance that he was being paranoid here, but he wasn't taking any chances.

Besides, Ironwood and Ozpin had both chosen to keep the origin of the Legion under wraps, that was enough of an excuse for James to follow their lead. "Bits and pieces, but not much overall," he lied, taking great pains to keep his voice casual. "They mainly operated out in rougher territories, away from where Vale and Atlas would see them. You know, attacking tiny settlements with no support. I think they're getting too big for their britches and now they want more."

There were enough half-truths in there that James hoped that Emerald would buy it. Instead, he spotted something very odd. She smiled at him, but it had been a little too quick and ended up a little too wide. He had seen that type of smile a few times in the Mojave, but when he had gotten to New Vegas it had been all over the place, particularly among the Families. A fake smile. She knew he was lying. "Really? Not to be rude, but you kind of dress like you lived outside the kingdoms yourself. Are you sure that you don't know anything else about them? I mean, my team and I are going out there and risking our lives to fight them, anything we can know would be really appreciated."

Something felt wrong here. James didn't know exactly what was going on, but there was something fundamentally wrong about this conversation. Emerald was trying to weasel information out of him, and she was alarmingly good at it. If he hadn't noticed her smile earlier, there would've been a better than average chance that he would've let something slip, even if it was on the minor side. He had to play this carefully. Well-intentioned or otherwise, Emerald wanted to know things that he wasn't prepared to give up.

James shrugged. "Remnant's a big place, there's not a yearly meet and greet for everyone who lives outside the cities," he said. "I don't even think they came from the same region that I did."

"Oh, and what region is that? I never asked," Emerald said, her eyes wide with curiosity. Again, they were a little too wide. James swore inwardly. He had walked right into that one.

"I didn't really keep track, I moved around a lot," James replied, keeping his tone casual. It was another half-truth, he certainly had spent the majority of his adult life on the road. Hell, he had spent the majority of his pre-adult life on the road. "Everything kind of turns into a blur after awhile. Sorry, I was talking about how this situation was affecting you and we ended up talking about me." He gave a laugh. "That was rude of me. You're worried about your leader and I'm just talking about this unimportant stuff." A twinge of annoyance shot across Emerald's face, utterly unmistakable. She didn't like him moving the conversation back onto her. So he was going to do just that. "Have you talked to her lately? She seemed fine when I saw her the first time, I hope she isn't just putting on a brave face."

Emerald said nothing for what felt like a solid minute. Then something happened that threw James completely off of his guard. She started to cry. It was a very silent, dignified sort of crying, but tears were still flowing down her face and dripping onto the floor at an alarming rate. "I think she's having nightmares," she said with a strained voice. "Every night I hear her talking in her sleep, about the people that have died. I think it's tearing her apart and she doesn't want anyone to know." She sniffed loudly, it looked like her dignified crying was going to become undignified very fast. "It's why I came to you, Mr. Walker. I was hoping that if I could bring something back to her, it would make her feel better."

James felt a very strong urge to hug the woman, or at least do something to comfort her. Not wanting to push too many boundaries, he technically worked for an education system after all, he took a step forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "Look," he said with uncertainty. "I'll talk to General Ironwood and see if I can find anything out. This is a really confusing mess and I think he's still trying to sort through it all. If I can find anything important, I promise I'll come right back to you. In the meantime though? I think you need to go and talk to Cinder now. She needs people she can count on, people who can let her know that she doesn't need to suffer in silence."

Emerald sniffed again, her lower lip trembling. "You will? Oh, thank you, Mr. Walker, thank you so much. And you're right. I'll do that. I'll go see her right now. Thank you again!" And with that, she turned and ran down the corridor, turning the corner and leaving James's field of vision.

"Fuck," he swore. He hadn't taken time to stop and think about how the current situation would be affecting everyone else. The Legion was taking the White Fang's attacks to levels of cruelty previously unheard of, of course, there were going to be people who took it badly. "Didn't expect her to just break down crying like that," he said out loud.

"Wait, what?" ED-E said. "James, she wasn't crying. She sounded upset, but she didn't go quite that far."

James blinked as he looked at the eyebot. ED-E's sensors had been his eyes and ears more times than he cared to count, he wasn't certain how the little guy had missed something that had been right in front of him. "Uh, yeah she was, buddy. I saw her. The tears were kind of all over the place."

"Then why isn't the ground wet?" ED-E asked sharply.

James made an exasperated noise. This was probably his fault, he must have put one of ED-E's parts back in wrong when he was showing the robot to Winter. "It IS wet. Look, right here, this is where she was standing. Right-" but his voice trailed off. He had knelt down to point at the place where Emerald's tears at fallen, only to find perfectly dry ground. "The hell? It should be right here."

"I told you, she didn't cry," ED-E said, only know his beeps had taken on a more concerned tone. "Are you ok man? You've been through a lot in the past week. Even by your standards."

"I think so," James said, pressing a palm to his own forehead. He didn't feel feverish, but then again he had had robots digging around in his brain. There was always the chance that some damage had been done. But then again there were other explanations. Explanations with far less ideal outcomes. And ones that pointed to a problem he had been worried about for a long time. At that moment, James deeply wished he was back in his quarters with the bottle of whisky. He could use a quick pick me up.

His increasingly dark thought process was interrupted by a chime coming from his scroll. Taking it out, he looked at it. It was from Ironwood. "I need you by the interrogation chambers, I will explain more when you get there." Uncomfortable thoughts still lurking in the back of his head about how reliable his mind was, James moved on.

It took him a few minutes to find the chamber in question, he had to stop and ask soldiers for directions twice, but eventually, he found General Ironwood standing outside a thick metal door. "Please, come in," he said, holding the door wide open. James nodded and did as he was told, ED-E floating in right after him. Inside, Qrow had his feet up on a table, looking at a one-way mirror. On the other side was a dark, plain room illuminated by a single light, where an Atlas officer was sitting at a metal table, opposite the captured legionary, who was apparently going by the name Rumford. The captive had bandages covering his stump of an arm, while his regular one was chained to the table. He was screaming a non-stop stream of obscenities at the officer, who was maintaining a face of calm stoicism. Two guards stood on either side to the entrance to the room beyond the one-way mirror, their arms folded behind their backs and their faces stoic.

"We've hit a bit of a roadblock in obtaining information from our friend here," Ironwood said stonily. "He seems to have realized he was talking too much and inadvertently helping us. The theory is that the drug he was abusing has mostly circulated out of his system by this point and now he's more lucid than he was before. We have more sophisticated facilities back in Atlas that we could use to continue our interrogation, but time is of the essence here and I'd like to get as much as we can out of him before we arrive."

"And your goal is to use the guy you haven't even known a month," Qrow said wryly. "Seriously, who does that?"

"You'd be surprised," James grunted.

"Qrow, Ozpin isn't here right now," Ironwood said firmly. "You are a guest on my ship. If you don't want to spend the rest of the trip to Atlas confined to your quarters, I suggest you be a little more respectful." Qrow gave an exaggerated wave of dismissal towards Ironwood but thankfully stayed silent. If only because he was going for his hip flask. Satisfied, at least for the moment, Ironwood turned back to James. "Ozpin mentioned that you have experience with interrogation, but I have another reason for talking to you about this. You were the one who took his arm."

"I'm not sure how to respond to that," James said. It was hardly every day that he had been told he was being considered for a job due to his experience with dismemberment.

"Rumford is an emotional man, quick to lose his temper," Ironwood said. James could hardly argue against that with the man in question still swearing in the background. Particularly when even he was learning a few new ones from the experience. "We've been able to exploit that so far, every question we wanted to ask regarding the Legion, we were able to indirectly. The total number of legionaries in Remnant numbers at around a few dozen, Vulpes Inculta is the one in command with there being no evidence that anyone else of higher rank is present, and they possess no weapons heavier than those we have already seen."

Ironwood frowned. "Though, as I stated in the report Winter showed you, this is all coming from the perspective of a low-level operative, one that I feel that Vulpes would recognize as unstable. That being said, he started to realize what he was doing when we attempted to shift the topic to the White Fang. I'm very interested in any potential information that he gained about them from his time working alongside them. Both on what they are planning now, and possibly who they were working for before they made their new alliance. Even minor details could prove to be very important. Are you up to this?"

James nodded. "Though I'm not sure how much I'll be able to do. I tricked a legionary into giving up info once, but that's because the guy was actually intelligent and I was able to work around his expectations. This guy will probably tell me to suck his dick for an hour."

"I'm aware of his nature, I've been forced to listen to it over the past several days," Ironwood said, sounding very annoyed. Qrow gave a laugh around his hip flask. "The plan is to go with the fear and intimidation route. Your Semblance, it's random, correct? He doesn't know that. Go in, explain to him the nature of your Semblance and how it always creates a magazine like the one that you used to take his arm. Then use your Semblance. If it creates a magazine, threaten him with it. If it doesn't, produce a magazine and tell him it was the one changed. He won't be able to tell the difference."

"Ok, I have to admit, this sounds like it's going to be pretty funny," Qrow said, lowering his drink. "This guy's been talking about what he's going to do to everyone's mom, sister, and even grandma. Credit where credit is due Ironwood, pushing this guy's arm button? Well, he has it coming."

"My main concern isn't karma, but his tongue becoming loose through anger or fear. It's much more productive than crude pain," Ironwood said stonily. "Are you up for this Mr. Walker?"

"I'm not making any promises except that I'll try," James said. Grabbing his helmet from where it was hanging, he slid it over his head and buckled it into place. It would work to his advantage if Rumford couldn't see his face. "ED-E, stay out here." He received a confirmatory chirp in response. "When do I go in?" As a response, Ironwood his finger to his ear and whispered a command. At once, the officer inside the cell got up and walked out, leaving the interrogation room with a stiff nod to Ironwood. Ironwood gestured at the door. James entered without comment.

"Oh, ok! Who's the new cunt? I don't care who, you're all a bunch of limp dicked-WALKER!" Rumford roared, thrashing against the chain that kept him sitting. "Let me out of this and try and have another go at me, bitch! I don't need both hands to rip your fucking dick off!"

"Wow, Edward's standards really have fallen," James said, pulling out the empty chair and sitting down in it. "And they weren't that great to begin with. I mean, that kid who took a swing at me clearly didn't know what he was doing. But at least he actually did something that hurt me. He wasn't the genius who decided to spew poison gas into the face of someone wearing a gas mask." He tapped the mask in question as he spoke. Rumford's face twisted in anger as he spewed insults at James. James had to fight back a laugh, this was a little too much fun.

"Blow me, you fucking cocksucker!" Rumford screeched, trying to stand up and rip the table off the ground, only to be stopped when he was halfway up. A quick look down told James that the table was bolted to the floor. "Then take it right up your fucking cunt!"

"Yeah, I'm not interested in little boys," James said dryly. "Now, I'm gonna have to ask you to shut up for a minute." Drawing his rifle, he let it lie against his shoulder before lifting up his Pip-Boy. "Remember how I made your lonely nights even more lonely? Well, how that works is I flick a switch here and I get another magazine of Bloody Mess bullets. But I don't want more liquidized body parts on me, so how about we skip that part and you just tell what the White Fang was up to before you met them? You must've heard some talk around camp."

"Yeah, because I'm the type that hangs around with fucking mutants," Rumford snarled. "I get that you're the type who gives a shit about what freaks think. I heard about the kind of company you keep, got a senile old Frankenstein and a zombie that you probably keep sticking your dick in. Me though? I got standards, I don't give a shit what the horned little shit and his big beefy boyfriend want." James felt fairly certain that he was on the right track. With a whole new source of anger, Rumford's big mouth was betraying him again. This wasn't anything James didn't already know, he had a feeling that the red-haired boy was Adam, Winter had briefed him on the local White Fang leader that had nearly killed him, but he had to push it further.

"Well, let's see about that, shall we?" James said, pressing the Wild Wild Wasteland button. At once, the cheap slot machine sound effects began to play, and James relaxed into his chair while keeping his arm on the table. Rumford glared at him, but at the same time made poorly hidden glances at the Pip-Boy. Good, he wasn't as confident as he was pretending to be. After a moment, the slots rolling to a stop, and James leaned forward to look at the Pip-Boy. Then he blinked in confusion. The words "TERRIFYING PRESENCE!" flashed on the screen, as did an image of Vault-Boy hunched over, growling at nothing in particular. This was a new one.

He privately wondered what this was supposed to mean, but he had been given a script and he was sticking to it. His hand reached for one of his magazines when Rumford let out a screech of pure terror. "What are you doing? THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?" James looked up, blinking in confusion. Rumford was pressed back as far as he could in his chair, futility attempting to push it back, only for it to go nowhere. "Stay the fuck away from me!"

James thought fast. Rumford was in a state of pure panic. The Pip-Boy had said Terrifying Presence. He could use this. Slowly, he stood up, walking around the table to where Rumford was sitting. He intentionally took his time, keeping his eyes on Rumford every step of the way. As a response, Rumford began violently thrashing again, his eyes darting in the direction of the one-way mirror. "Let me the fuck out of here! Now! You fucking cocksuckers!"

"Rumford, I'm going to be blunt," James said calmly, stopping in front of the one-armed man. "I don't like you. You're the very worst the Legion has to offer and then some. We're only keeping you around because we actually have standards. But if you want to continue kicking and screaming like a child, well, frankly I think most people will look in the other direction. So please. Enough of this."

"You're supposed to be the goody fucking two-shoes!" Rumford shrieked, his eyes so wide with terror that they looked like they were in danger of popping out. "Caesar was supposed to have made up all that shit about you because he couldn't handle losing! You don't do this kind of shit!"

Privately, James wondered what his Semblance was doing in order to get this kind of response out of Rumford. In truth, it was very unnerving. What the hell was he doing to the man? He would have to look into this latter. Rumford was one thing, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to use this thing on anyone else if it was too much. Those were questions for later though. "You claim to know an awful lot about me. And you talk about Caesar in ways that no legionary would. How do you know that I'm a goody two shoes?"

"I-I used to be in the Fiends," Rumford said, his voice shrinking in fear. That explained too much. "They kicked me out just before you came through and massacred them. I had to join up with the Legion, no one else would take me. I heard about the things you did. You're stupid, you don't think things through, you throw yourself into the fire just to bring a corpse back to some dumb bitch! You're not like this!"

"Oh? But I am," James said, having no idea what "like this" meant but seeing an opening in exploiting Rumford's reaction. "I like being like this. I get to do it to people like you. Who deserves it. Cowards who talk tough and hurt people who they think can never fight back. I love seeing the look on their faces when they realize they picked a fight with the wrong man." He leaned forward, putting his hand on Rumford's shoulder, taking his time and placing each finger one at a time. His head was inches away from Rumford's. "So you need to work with me. What was the White Fang doing before you joined up with them and what are they going now? Who was their old boss"

"I don't fucking know, ok!? You already know they're going north, I don't know anything besides that!" Rumford said, his voice so high pitched it actually hurt to listen to. "The animals just kept bitching and moaning about the humans that had used them, they never said any names. All I overheard was that there were supposed to crash some kind of festival and pull out when all the robots started killing everyone because some lady told them to! That's all I know, I swear to fucking Christ! I didn't even hear her name!"

That sounded about right. It wasn't much, but then again they had never expected to get too much out of Rumford, and this had proven to be a decent sized nugget of information. The White Fang had been planning an attack on the Vytal Festival. Ironwood had been right to call it off. So at least they had gotten some good news out of all of this. "See? That's all you had to say," James said, letting go of Rumford and taking a step back. "If we think of any other questions, remember this moment. Unless you're in a hurry to repeat it." Rumford gave a frantic nod.

Satisfied, though still unnerved, James turned and exited the room. On the other side, Qrow and Ironwood were waiting for him. And they were waiting in a way that took James by surprise. Qrow had abandoned his relaxed position and drawn the giant sword that he had carried on his back, while Ironwood was reaching for an oversized pistol that was holstered at his side. Both of them looked nothing short of horrified. The guards on either side of the door were backing away, one gawking at him in terror while the other had drawn a rifle. "General, I came as fast as I could!" Winter entered the room at breakneck speed, her swords drawn. The same look of pure horror passed her face too as she looked at James. "What happened to him?"

ED-E was spinning around the room, back and forth between the three of them, viciously beeping at them to put their weapons away, but they ignored him. All eyes were transfixed on James. A horrible feeling was building up in him. What were they seeing?

XXXXX

Winter had not asked questions when General Ironwood had said that she was needed in the interrogation chambers. Now that she was actually there, she wouldn't even know what to ask if she wanted to. James was standing in front of the doorway to where the prisoner was. But something had changed. His helmet had morphed into an animated face. A horrific nightmare of a face. It had a jaw that nearly split it in half, massive, blood stained teeth the length of a finger, green eyes that glowed with their own fire, and a snake-like tongue that curled around the lower lip. An irrational fear shot through Winter as she looked at the face, so strong it took every last bit of her military discipline to maintain her composure.

"Mr. Walker?" she asked hesitantly, holding her swords in a guard stance. "Is that you?"

"What? Yeah, it's me, I-what the Hell is going on?" A massive cognitive dissonance hit Winter. Everything about James's body language conveyed confusion. He was looking back and forth between herself and General Ironwood, his hands relaxed and at his side aside from the occasional twinge. His voice was completely different, coming across as a mocking, fake baby voice, one that was taking sadistic pleasure in her ignorance. Another irrational pang of fear hit her. "Rumford was freaking the hell out in there, my Semblance put out something called Terrifying Presence. What's going on?"

"Uh, are you aware of the fact that your tongue is now about twice as long and your teeth are three times as big?" Qrow asked with uncertainty, looking unsure as to whether or not James posed a direct threat or not. Sadly, it was a sentiment that Winter shared.

"Tongue? Teeth? The hell are you talking about, you can't see them. Wait. Oh. Shit." Again, James's tone and actions didn't line up. He took a step back, pressing his hand to his forehead as if he had just experienced a massive revelation. His tone, on the other hand, was still cruel and mocking. "ED-E, do you see anything?" he asked, glancing at the robot. The eyebot idly floated up to James's face, studying it closely before shaking from left to right, a clear no. Despite this, Winter felt an overwhelming urge to grab the machine and pull it to safety. James was eyeing it hungrily, and his jaw was opening wide, easily enough to swallow ED-E whole.

Then, without warning, the demonic face vanished. One second it was there, and the next it had been replaced with James's normal gas mask and helmet. Winter let out a breath she hadn't realized that she had been holding in. "Can someone please tell me what the Hell is going on?" James said, sounding both angry and annoyed. Thankfully, his actions and tone lined up properly this time.

"Uh. Not gonna beat around the bush, you had this big monster face that made it look like you just got possessed," Qrow said bluntly. Winter nodded. Qrow's description was crude. But not inaccurate. "And everything you said just sounded and, well, felt wrong. It didn't feel normal, and whatever it was, James and I could feel it from the other side of the mirror. And when you got close to Rumford, that jaw of yours was opening in a pretty threatening way. And those teeth looked sharp."

Ironwood nodded, his face pale. "You were positioning yourself as if you wanted to bite his face off," he said breathlessly.

"Bite his face off? That jaw was opening wide enough to swallow his entire head," Qrow said, still looking at James wearily. "How come E-bot didn't see it?"

"A good question, but I don't know," Ironwood said. He looked warily at James. "Did you feel any physical changes in your body? Any shifts or growths in your muscles? Any abnormal effects at all?"

"No, not a thing," James said, taking off his helmet and letting it hang to his side. Mercifully, his face was normal, if in need of a shave. "Rumford just started screaming like he was locked in a room with a feral Deathclaw. I just played along with it. I felt perfectly normal, just weirded out." James looked around the room, a deeply uncomfortable expression on his face. "God, what the Christ is wrong with my Semblance? I've only been here a week but even I can figure out that this isn't goddamn normal. First it's random, now it's spitting out crap like this?"

"I get that you're shocked, but you're probably overreacting to this a bit," Qrow said, his face returning to its normal color and his relaxed demeanor returning. "That thing you just did is disturbing, no getting around it. But if you stop and think about it, it's kind of mundane. You get really scary for a couple of minutes, that's it. Not pleasant to be around, but there are Semblances out there a lot more disturbing than that. It's just hard to remember that until the shock wears off. So calm down, all right?"

Winter felt a pang of annoyance towards Qrow, albeit a mixed one. She couldn't fault his logic, but now that he had recovered from the effects of James's Semblance, Qrow had fallen back onto his casually disrespectful mannerisms. James shot the disheveled man an annoyed look but didn't say anything. Lifting up the primitive computer on his wrist, he pressed a few buttons. "That still doesn't change that everything about this thing makes no sense. Do you know anyone else who has a Semblance that can only be used once every 24 hours?"

"No, I'll give you that," Qrow said. "Just telling you to not let this go too much to your head. It's not that special. Really, it's more like four micro Semblances acting as one big one. It's got four results, right?"

"Five," James said. "I poked around with it the last few days and in the Wild Wild Wasteland section, there's a percentage in the upper right corner. It said 60% "unlocked" the other day. It says 80% unlocked now. Basic math dictates that means this thing can spit out five abilities overall. Bloody Mess, V.A.T.S., Silent Running, that Terrifying Presence thing, and one more I haven't seen yet."

"Five micro Semblances then," Qrow said. "Personally I'd rather have one Semblance that I can use whenever rather than five that I can use randomly once a day." James was now shooting daggers at Qrow, who responded with a sly smirk.

"So, General," James said with forced politeness, turning to face Ironwood. "Did you manage to get anything good out of that? It seemed a bit on the vague side aside from how the Fang was apparently planning to attack the Vytal Festival."

"He mentioned something about robots attacking civilians, but that's hardly worth listening to," Ironwood said. "The only presence with any mechanized forces around the festival would have been us. You may not have seen much of it Mr. Walker, but a heavy portion of Atlas's military force is robotic in nature. We've actually recently modernized our forces with the most up to date models." Qrow mimed gagging in the corner, much to Winter's irritation, but Ironwood didn't notice. "Our forces would never fire on anyone without a direct command from Atlas. Why would they?"

"Yeah, I mean-" James said. Then he stopped, Slowly reaching down, he picked up the odd necklace that he wore, a platinum poker chip with a bullet lodged in it. Bringing it up to the light, he looked at it. "Oh. Oh, fuck." His hand trembled. "General? Winter told me that you had a break in recently. Some kind of tower? Is there any way that that tower could've been used to tamper with your robots?"

Winter raised her eyebrow at James. The CCT? Was James actually taking this claim seriously? Ironwood looked as if he thought James's had lost his mind by humoring the idea. "The CCT could potentially be used to access the central network for our Knights and Paladins, yes. However, we would know if the network had been compromised. We did countless automated sweeps of the system after the infiltration of the tower, we found no abnormalities within it. The infiltrator did not yield any results from her actions, and there is a simple explanation as to why. Ruby Rose discovered her before she could complete whatever it was she was attempting and she was forced to flee."

"Are you sure?" James asked. There was a frantic look in his eyes as he took a step towards Ironwood. "Are you absolutely sure? There isn't any way that your system could've been exploited? No possibilities, no matter how absurd?"

Winter felt a pang of annoyance. James wasn't a computer expert, nor was he a member of the Atlas military. As a general rule of thumb, you didn't question someone on a matter that they were much more experienced in. It was disrespectful to the highest degree. "The only possible manner in which I could see that being possible is if the intrusion to our network disguised itself," Ironwood said briskly. "And in order for that to be possible, the program would have needed to be designed by someone with in-depth knowledge of Atlas cyber-security, file format, and coding skills that are nothing short of masterful in order to hide from our scans. If all of that is possible, a massive if, then any programs inserted would be invisible to our automated scans and would only be detectable via manual searches. With all due respect Mr. Walker, such a thing happening is nothing short of fantasy."

James faltered. For a moment, Winter thought he had come to his senses. Then his face notably stiffened. "In that case General, I highly advise you conduct a manual search of your system."

"Mr. Walker, enough," Winter said, unable to stay quiet any longer. This was getting ridiculous. "The man you just interrogated is a crude man of low intellect whose mind has been polluted by drugs, and even then he could only provide second-hand information. He is a useful source of information up to a point, but assuming that a significant portion of our military has been compromised based off of his testimony? I'm sorry, that isn't enough."

"I have to agree with Specialist Schnee," Ironwood said. Winter felt a small ping of pride, but she forced herself to stay focused. "I need more to go on if I was to authorize a manual sweep of our network, it would be a deeply time-consuming endeavor in a time of high crisis. Those technicians spending their time manually going through each file could be better spent elsewhere preparing for the White Fang's next move. What makes you so certain that this is worth taking seriously?"

James was slowly starting to resemble a man who was being backed into a corner. His eyes nervously darted back and forth between Ironwood and Winter. Then he let out a deep sigh. With the air of someone who was doing something he deeply did not want to do, he took his necklace of a poker chip off and held it up to the two of them. "Because I've seen someone try and pull off this exact stunt before."

This caught Winter completely off guard. Judging by how General Ironwood's eyes had widened in surprise, he felt the same. James waited for a moment and, when no one interrupted him, he continued. "There used to be an independent city-state back on Earth, New Vegas. The boss, Mr. House, kept control of it through a robot army of around a few hundred strong. Except it turned out he had hundreds more, maybe thousands, in underground vaults that he could get online and upgrade if he had the right software. The software in this chip. I was working with Mojave Express when he finally found it after it had been lost for centuries, and I was commissioned to deliver it."

A look of deepest loathing passed over James's face. "I got jumped, double tapped in the head, and left for dead in a shallow grave. By some miracle, I wasn't dead, and I tracked the guy who robbed me down. Guy's name was Benny, and it turned out he reprogrammed one of House's robots and was keeping it hidden in his basement, called it Yes-Man. He had a plan to plug Yes-Man into House's mainframe, which he could do if he could access to the main terminal, and use the chip to activate the robots in the bunker, seize control of them, and take over all of New Vegas and possibly the surrounding region."

He let out a choked noise that was halfway between a groan and a sigh. "I caught up with him before he could do anything, and the little shit went running with the chip to the bunker before he could get Yes-Man in the mainframe. Little problem though. At that time, the bunker was directly under where Caesar had made camp and he got caught. I went in on a parlay, Caesar wanted me to use the chip to access and destroy the army, and when I told him to go stuff it, he didn't take it well." His thumb flicked the bullet in the chip. "Turns out the guy was fucking with me. He had already had someone go down and destroy the army with the chip. Wouldn't be surprised if it had been Marie F.. He was just testing the waters to see how well I could follow orders and if I could be used. That didn't turn out so well."

He slid the necklace back on, looking uncertain. "Look, House was a smart guy. An arrogant ass, but the man knew his technology. And even then, Benny almost found a way to turn everything against him, and the only reason he didn't succeed is because he was a bumbling dumbass and House caught onto him. A smarter person could've easily taken everything away from him and established a power base in the region." A very odd look crossed James's face as he said the last sentence, but it was gone almost as soon as it had come. "And if someone as stupid as Benny can almost take control of a robot army from someone as smart as House, I think someone smarter could pull it off if they managed to find a back door. They just need to be in the right place with the right tools."

A heavy silence fell over the room. All eyes were on James, even Qrow was staring at him in stunned silence. Without breaking eye contact, Ironwood lifted his hand to his ear. "Yes, this is General Ironwood. There's been a recent development, I want you to perform a manual scrub of the direct control network for the Knights and Paladins. Check for any abnormalities, no matter how small, and let me know the second you locate anything. Do the same for all of the CCTs as well, particularly the Vale one. Yes, I know this is sudden, I'll arrange for any transfers that you need to get this done." He lowered his hand. "Mr. Walker, do not take this personally, but I deeply hope that this is just paranoia on your end. But I am not a person who takes risks."

James nodded stiffly. "I get that. But there was something else Rumford mentioned. Something about a woman who was giving the White Fang orders. Was that the leader of the White Fang? What was her name? Something Khan?"

"Selina Khan and I don't think so," Ironwood replied. "She's been oddly quiet as of late. What's more, the woman that Ruby saw in the CCT tower doesn't match any of the descriptions we have of Khan on record. I think this woman may be the player in the dark that we're trying to find. This isn't much of a lead, but it's better than what we had before."

"Right, and do we have anything else on her? Like anything at all?" James said. Something very odd happened here. Qrow gave a very loud cough, one of his usual childish ways to interrupt and annoy, but Ironwood didn't treat it as such. Instead, he gave Qrow a look that Winter couldn't read before looking back at James.

"We're looking into it, but at the moment we don't have much," Ironwood said. "I think that brings this interrogation and debriefing to a close. Thank you very much for your time Mr. Walker." James gave a hesitant nod, glancing at the two soldiers who were standing on either side of him. One was still looking at him hesitantly, and the other had only just holstered her rifle.

"Right," James said, sounding uncomfortable. "ED-E, what time is it?" The robot, instead of his more complex series of beeps, let out three bursts of beeps, numbering two, four, and five respectively. "2:45 huh? Well, we might as well get there ahead of time. Hope you don't mind Ironwood, I've been having a few practice sessions with Team RWBY and JNPR at three the past few days. Jaune and Ruby both need work in their hand to hand combat. Ozpin's recommendation."

"Yeah, I hate to admit it, but Pipsqueak is a little too attached to her scythe," Qrow said. "But a heads up there Walker. If I hear you're being too rough with my nieces-"

"I'm sure it involves your sword and my ass, save it for Rumford," James interrupted. "If you don't mind, I have to continue my streak of being actually productive today. So if there's nothing else, I need to go." With that, he strode out of the interrogation room, ED-E right behind him. An uncomfortable silence followed.

"General, is there anything else?" Winter asked. She received a firm shaking of the head as a response. "Very well then," she said, saluting Ironwood before leaving the room. It wasn't hard to catch up to James, who was walking briskly in the other direction. He came to a sudden halt as he heard her, his unhelmeted head turning to look at her. "Would it be acceptable if I were to join you? There are a few things I would like to go over with Weiss. Her Semblance needs some work." James paused for a moment before nodding. "Thank you," she said, giving a crisp nod before falling in line with him, heading for the ship's sparring arena.

"So now what?" James asked. "What happens if we're compromised?"

Winter gave him an analytical glance. James looked concerned, almost as if he didn't want to be right about the prediction that he had made. "Then the nature of our enemy changes," Winter said. "We go from someone who was manipulating terrorists in the dark to someone with uncomfortably strong connections. Everything will become far more difficult and dangerous. I have to say though, the odds of you being correct are rather on the low side." Her eyes drifted to James's wrist-mounted computer. "With all due respect, the computing technology from your world seems far more primitive than ours. Our security is doubtless far superior."

"Yeah? Well, no offense, Mr. House thought he had better tech than anyone in the wasteland and Benny still managed to get all the tools he needed to pry open a back door," James said, a tinge of anger to his voice. "And anyone from this world will have better access to equipment than a douchebag with a cheap suit and a gaudy pistol."

He glanced at Winter, his jaw tight. "If living in the wasteland taught me anything, it's that you're most vulnerable when you think you're invincible. House thought he was untouchable. He took a round to his frontal lobe. And just to clarify, House had been keeping himself alive for two-hundred years on life support, he was alive before the bombs dropped. He rebuilt Old Vegas into a thriving gambling town with his machines and a few tribes. And before the war, he was a master mechanist and set up defense systems that shot down most of the missiles that got launched at his area. House was really damn smart when his ego didn't get the better of him." He stopped, forcing himself to inhale before continuing, his voice calmer. "I'm just trying to say, don't fall into the same pit he did."

"Your concern is appreciated, but I'm simply stating the facts," Winter said briskly. "The odds of a security breach are not zero, but they are quite close. You managed to convince General Ironwood that there was enough of a threat to warrant an investigation. Isn't that enough?"

"I suppose," James said. He sounded very tired. They came to a stop outside of the ship's sparring arena. "Well, let's not keep them waiting."

XXXXXX

Blake looked up from her book. Their daily sessions with James had been more like going over the basics for the most part, mainly for Jaune and Ruby. It felt a little too simple at times, but some sort of training was good. Their session today had been going on for the past half hour, with James standing across from Jaune and Ruby in the middle of the sparring arena. The only change was that Weiss and her older sister were off to the side, swords drawn and glyphs flashing. Winter seemed to be demonstrating to Weiss, but Blake couldn't begin to guess what it was.

It had started with a bit of odd tension, James and Winter had seemed oddly tense about something they had refused to talk about. But since then, they had started working on opposite sides of the room, and whatever was bothering them seem to have been put on the back burner. "Ok, we're going to try something a friend taught me once, she taught me half of what I know about hand to hand combat," James said, sizing up both of his opponents. "It's going to focus on defense and countering. Ruby? Throw a punch at me, I'm going to demonstrate how this works." Ruby took a nervous step forward, her hand's held up in front of her before she made a hasty jab. Blake fought back the urge to wince. Ruby's blow was sloppy, heavily telegraphed, and thrown from a weak stance. It was almost a mercy that James batted the blow away, striking it from the side with a closed fist.

"That's called a Scribe Counter," James said as Ruby jerked a few steps to the side. "You plant one leg behind you and another in front, both solid and firm. Guard yourself with both hands like this," he held both of his fists up in front of him in a defensive position, hovering between his chest and face. "That way in case you can't pull off the counter you can still block. You wait for an opening and bat the blow to the side, causing them to stumble. You have to be very careful with this, you can't do it with a punch that's too fast to track or too heavy for you to overpower. But if you can pull it off, your opponent is off balance. Wide open for a counter attack." As Ruby started to recover, James threw an uppercut that stopped just short of her chin. The smaller girl gave a tiny "eep" as her Semblance took over, retreating to the far end of the arena in a blur of red and petals.

James blinked before giving a grin. "Hit them hard enough with that and you can put them on their rear," he said, Ruby sheepishly returning to the center of the room in another flash of crimson. "It takes a lot of practice though. I want you two to start now, take turns going back and forth with each other. Take it slow and avoid actual contact for now, we're just learning the form today. Show me the stance." He slid one leg behind him, inched the other in front, assuming the guard position again. Jaune and Ruby nervously exchanged glances before copying him.

"Ok, good," he said warmly. "Jaune? You're a little too tense, you've got to be able to move forward quickly for the counter-attack." Jaune's body slackened, but only a little. "Ok, that's better. You two practice for a bit, there's something else I wanted to cover with the others." With that, Jaune and Ruby gingerly began to practice while James turned and began to stride over to where Blake was sitting, along with the rest of Team RWBY and JNPR, minus Weiss.

"Ok, gonna be frank, with you lot I found myself a little bit stumped for what we could cover," he said, coming to a stop in front of the five of them. "All of you handle your weapons pretty well from what I've seen, your team setups are fairly well rounded, and you don't need refreshers on CQC. Then it hit me. None of you carry backup weapons." Blake blinked before looking around. She supposed it was true, while some of them technically had two weapons, they were always used in conjunction. The rest of them had just one weapon. Not that she saw the problem with that. With the exception of Jaune, all of their weapons struck a good balance between ranged and melee in an effectively streamlined manner.

"Is this a concern?" Ren asked politely.

"Call me paranoid, but I always feel like you should have a backup plan in a fight for your life," James said. "And I've been told you all have been in a couple of those already. Your primary plan worked then, good, but it might not always work. You might be in prolonged combat and run out of ammo, your blades might break, something might separate you from your weapon. Now in that situation, you may be able to fall back on unarmed combat or your Semblances, but you should have the deck as stacked in your favor as you can get. Come over here."

He gestured to a table that had been set up in the corner of the room. Curious expressions on everyone's faces, the five of them got up and followed James to the far end of the room. On the table were eight pistols, standard issue for the Atlas army, each one with three reload magazines and a holster. There was also eight large boxes of ammunition and several bandoliers of grenades on the back side of the table. "I want all of you to practice using these and start carrying them on you when you go on missions."

Blake picked up one of the pistols, experimentally getting a feel for it. It was a decent weight, doubtlessly somewhere around the 10mm range, maybe a little heavier. There was nothing wrong with the pistol, but Blake couldn't help but feel like it was a little below what was needed for a Huntress. She couldn't help but notice the way the others were reacting. Pyrrha had the type of smile on her face that was reserved for receiving a bad gift that you had to pretend you liked, Yang was blinking in disbelief as she held one of the sidearms in her hand, and Nora looked downright disappointed as she held hers.

James noticed. "Yeah, this is about the reaction I was expecting," he said wryly. "I'm not blind, I know what kind of weapons you're used to. This isn't supposed to be a replacement for your primary weapon. It's supposed to be more than the nothing you would have if you lost your primary. You'd be surprised just how many times that I saved my rear by having a weapon I could draw at the last second." To emphasize his point, his hand darted to his back, slipping underneath his long coat. With a single motion, he drew A Light Shining in Darkness, aiming it at nothing in particular. "You five may never actually need these pistols, and I'd be happy if that was the case. But you should have them on you at all times. You never know."

Reluctantly, Blake took one of the holsters and affixed it to her side. "What's that for?" Nora asked, pointing to one of the bandoliers, which held around a dozen Dust grenades. "We gonna practice grenade throwing?" She grinned widely, holding up her launcher. "I've got that covered."

"Didn't want to break too many norms in one go," he said good-naturedly. "No, that's for me. They just delivered it with everything else. I'm almost out of my stash of grenades so I asked the quartermaster if she could help me out on that front." Grabbing one of the bandoliers, he slid it over his right shoulder before buckling it into place. "Ah, much better. I was getting paranoid with just one grenade left."

As Blake looked over one of the bandoliers, she was surprised to see that many of the grenades weren't specialized. She spotted a Fire, Ice, and Lighting Dust grenade, but the majority of them were only loaded with Combustion Dust, the same type of Dust that was used in ordinary rounds. "James? Are you certain those are the types of grenades you want to use? I understand you're not very familiar with Dust, but it can be very effective when used properly."

"Yeah, the quartermaster brought that up too," James said, glancing at the bandolier. "And I appreciate all the fancy things these things can do, but, well, I'll be frank. The last time I played around with Dust, I burned a whole house down. If that's what a Fire Dust round can do, I'm a little scared as to what a Fire Dust grenade does." He fingered the one Fire Dust grenade that he actually had nervously. "Best for me to stick with good old fashioned fragmentation grenades. Pull the pin, count to three, throw it. Been able to do that since I was fifteen. Well, when the caravan could afford them. Which was rare."

"So, that one is yours, the rest are for us?" Pyrrha asked.

"What? Oh no. Didn't I say I didn't want to break too many traditions in one go? These are mine. All of them." He drew a hand over all of the bandoliers, giving a loving smile. "I've been thinking. A straight-up fight against someone with Aura is an area I don't really excel. So I'm falling back on basics here. I don't actually need these many grenades, but I do need the explosives within them." He flicked one with his finger. "I'm going to need that Dust for some homebrewed stuff I'm going to be working on. Landmines."

Blake had to struggle very hard to be polite. She appreciated James's enthusiasm, but she was starting to get a very strong impression that he had no idea what he was doing. Landmines were a stopgap at best. It would kill lesser Grimm, but Grimm hunted in such large packs that any minefield set up would be depleted in under a minute. Assuming the Grimm in question couldn't fly. And Aura combat was far too three-dimensional for landmines to be practical. "Are you certain that's a smart usage of resources?"

"Quite certain," James said, a smile on his face. "I've already got some plans in the work. But enough about me, let's do some practice shooting." He gestured to the right of the table, where the sparring arena had a shooting range. Eight targets had been set up at medium range from each other. "I doubt you'll have any real problem with the actual shooting, it's everything else that I want you to practice. Drawing, cocking, reloading, all that good stuff. I want you to practice it as much as you can so that if you have to draw your pistol in a hurry, you're good to go." He ran a hand along one of the boxes of ammunition. "We've got plenty of rounds to work with, so don't feel the need to the stingy. Just follow basic firearm safety and practice to your heart's content."

Slowly, as if half of them were still expecting James to reveal that this was all an elaborate joke, the other five of them fixed their holsters, took a pistol, and proceed to the firing range. "Hey Winter!" James called as Blake loaded her sidearm and cocked it. "Is there any chance that you and Weiss can continue what you're doing later? I got something I'd like for her to go over with the rest of her team." Blake couldn't help but notice that his voice sounded a bit strained. Craning her neck, Blake saw the elder Schnee nod in James's direction, say something to Weiss that even all four of her ears couldn't make out. The younger sister nodded and rushed across the room, where James promptly explained the situation and handed her one of the remaining pistols. Weiss, never having been one to question a teacher, accepted the pistol, loaded it, and took up a position next to Blake.

"What were you doing over there?" Blake asked, firing a round that landed in the second centermost ring. "I mean, you didn't miss much. James just went over basic hand to hand."

"I noticed," Weiss said, shooting a brief look at Ruby as she attempted to block a jab from Jaune and nearly fell over in the process. "Well, she certainly needs it. Remember what happened when she lost her scythe back in Mt. Glenn? Something like that can't happen again." Blake suppressed a shudder. James's questionable views on explosives and sidearms aside, he certainly was an overall net positive for that alone. "To answer your question, my family's Semblance has a unique technique that can be done with some difficulty. Glyphs being used to create replicas of foes I've defeated in the past." The side of Weiss's mouth drooped just a bit. "It's...it's a work in progress."

Blake honestly had to try hard to imagine Weiss struggling with something. Whenever she used her Semblance, she so often did it with natural grace and refinement that one could be forgiven for thinking she had already mastered it a long time ago. And yet Weiss was, in her own way, admitting she was having problems with a certain aspect of it. "I'm sure you'll have the hang of it in no time," Blake said, thinking fast to try and come up with something comforting. "I mean, it's not like you're going to slack off on it."

Weiss gave a small smile. "True. And honestly, while I wish the circumstances could've been more ideal, it's been very nice spending time with Winter. I never got much chance to talk to her ever since Father disowned her."

Blake paused. Weiss had never directly commented on her relationship with her family that much, but she had given out enough clues to piece things together. She had an older sister, but despite that, she was the one who was next in line to inherit the Schnee Dust Company. It was only a logical conclusion that something had happened to cut Winter out of the loop. "If you don't mind me asking, how did that happen?"

A shadow was briefly cast over Weiss's face. Instead of answering right away, she took aim and fired off a trio of shots, barely paying attention to where on the target they landed. Even then, she still didn't reply. Then a sigh. "You were open with me, I owe you the same. My father is deeply concerned with his legacy. He wanted children who did everything that they were told. Winter was too proactive for him. She follows orders when she thinks they're right, but she has a strong sense of pride." Weiss glanced at Blake. "You saw what she was like when she was dealing with Ruby and Yang's uncle. She sees her work for Atlas as a strong sense of good. She didn't see working for the SDC the same way. My father disowned her because he couldn't control her."

Blake fought back the urge to wince. She had run away from home to join a terrorist organization, and yet the occasional letter she had gotten from home had simply been her mother begging for her to come back. The idea of Weiss's father throwing out his eldest daughter for something so pettywas jarring. Weiss shot Blake her best reassuring smile. It was noticeably forced, but Blake still appreciated the effort. "She's been over it for a long time. She's much happier in the military, she isn't just a decorative doll there. She's active." Weiss's smile faltered for a second and she swallowed. "I mean, I do miss her, but I don't blame her for wanting some distance from our father."

Blake couldn't help but notice the way in which Weiss had said that. She was speaking from experience. Taking a second to fire at her target, she scrambled for ways to lighten the conversation. "You said you wanted to get your grandfather's company back on track? To undo all of the abuse? If you do that, will you let your sister back into the company?"

"If she wants to," Weiss said. "I mean, it was my mother's company before my father married her. Specifically for the company." Weiss's lip curled in pure disgust. "That isn't me being angry at my father and making wild accusations. He admitted it directly to her face. After he had uncontested control of the SDC." Blake's mouth opened in shock and disgust. She had never had a high opinion of Jacques Schnee, ever since she was a child she had thought he was an inhuman monster. But she had always thought that his cruelty had been reserved for Faunus. Even she had never thought that he would be so callous towards his own family. Granted, at the time, she had assumed all of the Schnee family had been just as bad as Jacques. Now it seemed that he had a monopoly on viciousness in the family. "So I may offer her some control." Weiss's face drooped sadly. "If she isn't sick of it."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate the offer, either way," Blake said. Weiss nodded silently. For a brief moment, the two focused on the targets in front of them, firing shots that reliably hit without too much trouble.

"Hey...mind if I give a bit of advice?" Weiss and Blake both blinked in surprise. James was approaching them from the side, a concerned look on his face. "Sorry. I couldn't help but overhear. But what you talked about reminded me of someone I was just talking to your sister about. I wouldn't say I liked the guy, but maybe you could learn a few things from his example." Weiss and Blake exchanged looks before Weiss gave a polite nod.

"There was a guy I met back on Earth. He was born to a fairly rich family. Not mega-rich, but his family was very comfortable. They owned a fairly successful tool company. His parents died young in an accident and his half-brother decided to be a spiteful little piece of trash. All of the inheritance their parents left, he took it for himself. This man was left with nothing but the clothes on his back and his wits. But it turned out that was all that he needed."

An unreadable expression filled James's face as he continued to speak. "He started his own company. It exploded. And when I say that, I mean he became the number one technology company in the biggest and richest country on Earth. RobCo dominated tech development, spread itself out, and set root everywhere it could. Then its CEO, a billionaire several times over by this point, and not even thirty yet, set his eyes on an old tool company."

James gave a smile of grim amusement. "Little by little, he dismantled his father's old tool company, buying it out and assimilating the pieces into RobCo. His half-brother became a paranoid wreck. And near the end, the CEO of RobCo had taken back everything of his father's old company. The only thing he left his half-brother was a single factory. One that had a perfect view of the city that the CEO half owned at this point, and would eventually go on to rule. Robert House. A sociopathic narcissist in many ways, but a brutally efficient businessman."

Blake couldn't help but feel like this House sounded rather familiar to a certain father. Weiss doubtless thought the same, but she looked more confused than anything else. "I'm sorry, I don't understand what point you're trying to make." Blake nodded along with her. It was an interesting story, but from Blake's point of view, all it told her was that there were people just like Jacques Schnee on Earth too.

James smile somehow became even grimmer. "I heard you talking about your father. How he disowned Winter because he couldn't control her and how you want to get your family's company back on track because he seized control. Don't you see a bit of a conflict here? He's a control freak and you want to undo all of his changes. With that in mind, do you think he's going to just hand control of the company over to you? You don't think he'll disown you? He's already thrown his eldest out, and I don't think Winter had half of the plans for the company."

Ah, Blake couldn't help but think. Yes, when James put it that way, that was a rather large problem. Jacques was the President of SDC, and no doubt had favors owed to him by many of the shareholders. And that was all without getting into whatever political ties he had made. The more she thought about it, the more Blake realized exactly how badly the chips were stacked against Weiss. "So. You're saying it's hopeless?" Weiss said, a hint of anger in her voice. "That I should give up? Let my father drag the Schnee family name through the mud, regardless of how many people get hurt or ruined along the way?"

"I didn't say that," James said, a firm calmness to his voice. "But by the way you've been describing him, you're never going to get control of your family's company through inheritance. He's not going to give it to you because you ask for it. House didn't ask for his father's company back." He leaned forward an inch. His voice took on a gruff, daring tone. "He took it back. If you want control of that company? Take it. Rip it out of your father's hands. Because he's never going to let go otherwise."

Blake had not been expecting this. She understood that James was from a world that was, there was no other way to put it, much less stable than Remnant. So much so that it sounded as if the entire planet was the worst parts of Vacuo all the way through. But he had so far been mild-mannered, if foul-mouthed at times, and she had not expected him to recommend a course of action like this, hostile, blunt, and direct. Weiss was gapping at him with the same surprise that Blake felt.

"That's...far easier said than done," Weiss said uncertainty. "I told you my father wasn't the richest man in the world, but he's certainly in the top ten. With all due respect, this Mr. House sounds as if he brought out a medium-sized company. Not the largest Dust corporation in the world. Particularly not one with political clout."

James gave an appreciative nod. "I can respect that. They've got a straight flush and you barely even have two of a kind. It's not easy. But, frankly, the ambitions that you had were never particularly mundane. And you need to remember that you've got more tools to work with than most. Don't you have any access to your family's fortune? You seemed to be able to spend money without care when we first met"

"Only what my father willingly gives me," Weiss said sourly. "He holds the purse strings. The second he figured out I was moving against him, he could easily cut me off. He's loose with his money, but not stupid with it. When I was young, I learned the ins and outs of running a business from watching him and from highly paid tutors. He wouldn't accept anything less than the best of the best running the company that bore his name after all. But he never let me have free reign with money that could let me strike out on my own or form independence."

James looked at Weiss with an appraising look. Then, without any hesitation, he reached into his rucksack, pulled out a stack of Lien, took a third of it, and handed it to Weiss. "Is that enough to get you started?" Blake opened her mouth, but her voice had failed her. She could only stand there, gums flapping like a fish out of water, as Weiss reached out for the bills. Her hands were trembling as she slowly flicked through them, silently counting.

She looked up, swallowing. "Ten-thousand? James, I'm deeply touched, but I can't accept this." Weiss's cheeks were a faint shade of red as she handed the money back. "You've barely been here a week, you can't have that much money yourself. I can't let you-" but James waved her off.

"If it makes you feel any better, I won most of the cash I've got on me in a poker game. The asshole had one of his goons peeking at my cards." A downright devilish grin flashed across his face. "So I cheated. Cleaned him out. I really don't feel guilty about giving away that money, it was basically a bonus." He gave the Lien he was still holding a hearty slap. "Besides, I've still got ten grand of my winnings right here. I'm healthily in the black. So take it. Please. Even if it isn't enough to start you out on getting your grandfather's company back, it's at least an insurance policy. Something to fall back on so that your father doesn't have total control over you."

Blake was quite certain she saw Weiss's lip tremble as she slowly pocketed the money. "Thank you very much," she said softly. "Though I'm not certain I approve of you cheating, I will overlook it as you only did it in retaliation to your opponent cheating." She cocked her head. "You don't have to be worried about that. I scammed some nobody who calls himself Junior out of twenty grand. People called him Junior for crying out loud. I'm not losing sleep after that."

"You did what!?" There was a blur of gold and Yang, moving with a speed usually reserved for her sister, was in front of James, a massive smile on her face. "Ok. This I need to hear. Details. All of the details." Weiss gave a barely concealed groan before turning back to her target. Though she was faintly smiling.

Deciding that she would benefit from less noise when practicing shooting, Blake moved to the far end of the targets, to the vacant spot where Jaune would have been. As she did, she spotted Pyrrha staring at her team's leader, who was still sparring with RWBY. Pyrrha, much to Blake's shock, looked very upset. Her hand was clenched and pressed against her mouth, her jaw was tight, and her bright green eyes were unmistakably watery. "Pyrrha? Is everything ok?" As she spoke, Ren and Nora, who had been practicing right next to her, instantly turned to look in her direction with concern.

"Wha-oh, yes!" she said, attempting to put on a cheery voice and bright smile, both of which didn't quite reach her eyes. "Just got lost in my thoughts. Well, better get back to practicing!" Before any of them could get a word in edgewise, she spun on the spot and started taking practice shots. Blake gave Ren and Nora a questioning look, only for her to get a pair of shrugs in response. Nora gave Pyrrha a concerned look while Ren beckoned her over.

She crossed the gap between him and he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "She had a meeting with Professor Ozpin right before we left for Atlas. She won't tell us what it was about but something's been wrong ever since. We've been trying to cheer her up, but we've hit a wall. If you have any ideas, we're all ears." Blake didn't say anything. She simply stared at Pyrrha's back. What on earth had happened?

XXXXX

Fucking Walker. Rumford was pissed. He had been in this cell for five days, two days since he had met the NCR's cheerleader, and everything about the situation pissed him off. There was a sink, a toilet, a crappy cot, and a hole in the wall that food got shoved through. Nothing was distracting him from his missing arm or how Walker had embarrassed him and it was driving him up the wall. To make things worse, he hadn't been able to get some Psycho all since he had been caught. Not that he was a filthy junkie like the rest of the Fiends, but he still needed it to maintain his manly physique. Not that a limpdick like Walker would know what that felt like.

There was a loud rap on the door. "Prisoner, up against the wall."

"Fuck you, pussy," Rumford growled, but he got up nonetheless. All the guards who were working with him had started wearing gas-masks the second they had figured out what his Semblance was. It was a crime. He had such a kickass power and the whimpering little bitches out there all hid from him in a way that made it so that he couldn't fight back. Well, they were right to be afraid of him. He took comfort in that.

Deciding he'd rather avoid being manhandled again, he did as he was told and pressed his one hand against the far wall. The door slid open behind him and a gruff hand grabbed him by the wrist and forced his arm behind his back. A chain was looped around his waist and locked tight before a handcuff was fitted onto his arm. The other end was attached to the chain, the closest anyone could come to handcuffing him when he only had the one hand. "Yeah, get your feel in faggot," Rumford hissed.

"You'd think he'd come up with new material after a while," the soldier behind him said dryly. Grabbing an end of the chain around his waist, he pulled, forcing Rumford to clumsily stumble out of his cell. "Is the other prisoner ready to go?" Rumford blinked as he was pulled into the bright, gleaming white corridor of the holding cells. Next door, a woman in armor signed a thumbs up as she pulled another prisoner out. Dressed in a white coat with a black hat, he had red hair and, Rumford had to fight back a laugh, eyeliner.

"Hey lady, how's your gal pal?" said snidely.

"Oh, I do believe I am wounded," the man said. "Such wonderful hospitality and company Ironwood has provided me with, I'm going to miss it."

"Oh stuff it Torchwick," the soldier holding Rumford said. "I've got enough on my plate with this guy running his yap." He gave another tug on Rumford's chain. "Come on. We just landed, command wants them transferred within the hour." The other soldier nodded as her superior led the way. Rumford thought it was hilarious. The Legion had dickholes like Servius, but at least they understood it was better to leave women to cooking and babymaking. That one was a loose end, one he might be able to take advantage of when the time came to make an escape.

The four of them moved through the depths of the ship, stopping at an elevator that took them down several floors, walked down another long hallway, and eventually stopped in a cargo bay that had a wide opening on the far end. A hundred men could easily walk through it, shoulder to shoulder. Nearly as many were doing so. Trucks and forklifts were filing in and out of the cargo bay, taking crates, boxes, and cargo containers in and out as they went. One one side, Rumford spotted a group of eggheads inspecting a line of human-sized robots and two mega-sized ones. More morons. Fancy toys just meant that there were more ways they could break.

His handler led the way through the chaos, ducking and weaving through until they were at the far end. They exited and Rumford walked directly into a wall of cold. He instinctively attempted to wrap his arms around himself, only to end up jerking ineffectually at nothing. Swearing, he took a look around.

Ironwood's ship had landed on some sort of airstrip near the edge of a cliff, one overlooking massive snowy plains. Dozens of technicians were inspecting the airship from the outside. Rumford saw two using some sort of massive mechanical arm to remove large cylinders from the side before he was yanked forward and made to keep walking. A massive military base was nearby, on par with Pre-War American bases, with hundreds of soldiers manning sandbags, towers, and pillboxes. In fact, craning his neck, Rumford saw that the entire landing strip was heavily fortified, with countless guns, manned and automatic, mounted on a wall facing the cliff. Said wall completely covered all parts of the land strip that faced the cliff, and the soldier manning it were on high alert.

Dumbasses. It would just make it easier to stab them in the back.

"Ok, in." Rumford had been dragged white four-door car that was between the strip and the base, a man in a crisp uniform standing beside it. Throwing a few of his favorite swear words at the man, Rumford was forced in one door and the asshole in makeup the other.

"Oh my, a private car, we're certainly getting the deluxe treatment," Torchwick said as they were buckled in, both of them still cuffed. He shot an empty smile at Rumford. "So, cell right next to me and I never got your name."

"The guy who fucked your mother," Rumford grunted as the two soldiers piled up into the front seat. There was a thick metal grate separating the two sides of the car. As much as he wanted to make a run for it, he couldn't get through this to strangle the bitch.

"Father? Is that you?" Torchwick said in mock surprise. "Oh, mother has told me oh so much about you. Shall we go to the zoo and frolic?"

"I swear we need a soundproof barrier," the male soldier grumbled as his companion turned the key in the ignition. The car roared to life and they were off. It drove away from the base and a city began to loom into sight. "Welcome to Mantle," the male soldier said grumpily.

Mantle looked like a piece of shit. Most of the buildings looked old and worn, quite a few industrial looking buildings were starting to rust, and plenty of them looked abandoned. They didn't get too close to the larger buildings, the car was noticeably parallel towards the city, not heading towards it. "And when do we get to this historic location? I've never been," Torchwick said with faux politeness.

"Yeah, you're not going there," the male soldier said.

"Oh? And where are we going?" Torchwick asked. Rumford wanted badly to tell him to shut the fuck up, but the soldier spoke before he could.

"Oh, we got a place for people like you." Something about that put a kernel of doubt in Rumford's mind.

They drove for over half an hour, Mantle slowly fading in the distance as they transitioned from dirt road to dirt road, all of them with thin layers of snow on them. There was nothing to do except be thankful that the car was warm. Then, the male soldier spoke. "Hey, you took a wrong turn, we want to head east." There was no response from the driver. After a minute, she took a left. "That's the opposite of east," the other soldier said, sounding annoyed. "You're not new, are you? You should know that-" but he was abruptly cut off.

Rumford blinked. He had no idea when it had happened, but the driver was holding a staff. A staff whose ended was buried in the throat of the other soldier. He let out a weak gurgle, blood flowing out of the wound, as the woman swiftly withdrew the staff, revealing a bladed end. He slumped down in his seat, not moving. "Ah, the show is over already Neo?" Torchwick said. "Ah well." Rumford looked back in forth in confusion. Then his eyes widened. That son of a bitch was out of his cuffs, his hands idly behind his head as if he was a guest of honor. "So tell me, what's the deal with our unexpected guest?"

The car ground to a halt and Neo shifted it into park. She turned around and, as she did, she changed. She wasn't an Atlas soldier in full armor anymore, she was a five-foot tall girl in some frilly white and pink outfit. With hair that was half black and half pink, her eyes mismatched with the same colors. It was the stupidest thing Rumford had ever seen. "So your escape guy is a whore? Man, you're fucking dumb," he snarled at Rumford. Neo gave a toothy grin before holding up a scroll.

Torchwick leaned forward to read it. "Cinder wants him? Why? Does it have to do with the plan changing?" Neo lowered the scroll, typed something into it, and held it up again. "Oh. Oh." Torchwick looked at Rumford. His cocky swagger was gone, replaced with faint fear. "Well. It was nice knowing you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to-" Rumford said, but as he was talking, the car door behind him was swung open. A hand gripped him by the shoulder, and the next thing he knew he was flying through the air. Pain tore through his body as he smashed arm first into a tree before he slid to the ground, swearing every step of the way. He wiggled himself into a sitting position as best he could with his arm restrained, looking around wildly for whoever had the nerve.

They were in some wooded area in the middle of nowhere, nothing for miles but snow covered trees. Torchwick had gotten out of the car with Neo, whose staff had extended into the girliest umbrella Rumford had ever seen, frilly and pink. She idly passed a second staff to Torchwick, who leaned on it as he began to watch what was going on. Three people were standing in front of Rumford's side of the car. A kid with gray hair, some broad with green hair, and a lady with long black hair and in leather. The last of the three was glaring at him with nothing short of pure hatred and was advancing on him, a weird glowing thing going on with her eye.

"Lady, do you have any idea what kind of crew I run with!?" Rumford shouted in anger. He was not taking shit from a rescue mission for some nobody who probably moonlighted as a gigolo. "They'll fuck you up! You have any idea what they do to bitches like you?"

"Be. Quiet," the woman hissed. Her hand darted forward, closing around Rumford's neck before she lifted him off the ground and slammed him against the tree again. "Do you have any idea how much damage you've done? Do you?" Her voice was dangerously low. Rumford tried to say something, but all that came out was a choked spluttered. His heartbeats were starting to rock against his ribcage. Wait a minute. What was going on? This wasn't right. They weren't going to kill him, were they?

"Of course you don't," the woman said with disgust. Producing a scroll, she held it up to his face. In big, bold text was a message.

"Backdoor compromised. Had to initiate self-termination to keep it from being tracked. We need a new plan. I'm heading to your location now with backup. Watts."

The woman's grip tightened, and an unnatural heat started to radiate off of her hand. "Months of planning are gone now. All because of you. Of what you said to James Walker." Rumford was starting to panic now. He could barely breathe. His legs flung wildly in the air, trying to break free, but his arm was still chained. Who was this woman? What was this backdoor thing? What on Earth could he have said to mess things up to her?

Sneering in disgust, she tossed him to the ground. "And now, you're going to make it up for me. You work for me now."

Despite the fear that was starting to build up in him, Rumford felt outraged. Who did this bitch think she was? "Fuck you, lady. You have any idea what the Legion will do to me if I ditch them for you and your nobodies?" He glared at her. Or at least he tried to. He didn't even get a chance to make eye contact before a booted foot slammed into his face, sending him rolling across the ground.

"Hey, Cinder?" a voice said. "I get you using him as a punching bag, but him working with us? He's damaged goods. More likely he'd be a liability more than anything else."

"Oh, but Dr. Watts is going to make him very useful for us," the woman called Cinder said. Rumford's eyes were swimming with stars and he was facedown in the dirt. He felt like a Super Mutant had just punched him in the face. He tried to roll onto his back, only for a hand to grip him and do it for him. Cinder's face was a few inches away from his, her glowing eye boring into him. "You've cost me dearly. I could crush the life out of you right now. I would enjoy every second of it. But you've left us short handed. So listen closely. Do as I say and there may be a use for you left in this world."

Slowly, she reached out, pressing one finger against his arm, in one of the places his Legion recruit armor was blocking. "Or otherwise, we'll have a problem." Without warning blinding pain tore through him. He roared and thrashed, but he was too well pinned. It felt like he was being impaled with a white-hot poker. Then, as soon as it had started, it had stopped. "Do we have an understanding Mr. Rumford?"

"Yes! God, fuck, yes!" he bellowed before he could stop himself. Anything to make the pain go away.

"Good. Because, when we've turned you into something worthwhile, you are going to accompany my associates here on a little mission," Cinder said. "You are going to kill James Walker. But before then, I want you to know who we are. And exactly how little your Legion matters. It will quash any pathetic attempts at betrayal you may be thinking about."

She leaned back, glaring at him with overwhelming contempt. "Tell me. Are you familiar with the name Salem?"

XXXXX

Author's Note: Thought I'd put a firm cap on Wild Wild Wasteland, don't want to be that guy who's giving his characters more powers out of nowhere up until the last chapter. I also wanted James to have a hand in stopping Cinder's robot hack, but not because he's a master computer expert, but because he once saw someone pull the exact same trick. That way it's less something that's being accomplished because my original character, donut steel, is a super smart hacker, and more it's something that Courier Number Six and ONLY Courier Number Six would know and react to. That's the point of crossovers, isn't it? To take worlds, smash them together, and see the unique ways in which they would react. And Courier Six, good, neutral, or evil, would know what Cinder is pulling because he saw Benny try this already. He has to make a logical jump, but it's based off of the evidence he's seen and his own prior experience with similar situations.

I would like to thank my Patrons, SuperFeatherYoshi, xXNanamiXx, RaptorusMaximus, Davis Swinney, Mackenzie Buckle, Josue Garcia, Jonathan Eason, Ryan Van Schaack, ChaosSpartan575, and LordofNaught for their amazing support.