Chapter Ten - Materialism as a Means to an End
January 16, 2339
Planet Remnant
Captain Milton
A wrinkled hand swirled the glass in his hands, watching as the ice cubes lazily spun in the self-made whirlpool of dark liquor as he processed the request Commander Sloan had asked of him during his daily report on the situation planetside. They had been down there for a few days now, and Decker wanted to stay even longer.
A pressing issue given the fact that the Evelyns Vain was going to need to spend the next few days outside of the atmosphere of the planet refueling. Milton pressed the glass to his lips to take an eager swig, then promptly stops himself as a question came to his mind.
"Commander Decker, what do you suppose a more long-term stay planetside would be able to give us?"
"Well, first and foremost," Decker began, his voice bordering on the edge of sounding completely artificial due to the interference through each of their respective communications arrays. "It would allow us a unique insight into the culture of these people, and allow a smoother incorporation to the U.L. when we finally are able to contact them."
Milton takes a rapid swig from the glass, nearly emptying it if not for an ice cube getting in the way. "I mean more presently; I don't care for a smooth transition with the U.L. I want to know how they can help us get out of this pickle we're in." Milton glanced at the numerous reports offscreen and sighed; they were essentially dead in the water, even if they had fully functional engines. They couldn't even find a reference for where they were on the star map.
"Given the likelihood of us being here for realistically longer rather then shorter this would help the people of Remnant build up a level of trust with us, and with trust comes a willingness to scratch our backs when we innevitably run out of supplies to feed the crew."
Decker had made a good point: the reduced Cargo Bay had diminished the regular food stockpile they usually would have. They could always recycle water, but food couldn't be recycled as such, and with no Greenhouse Habitation, they couldn't grow their own food either.
"How about repairs, what's the likelihood for them being able to fix the Evelyn's Vain's engines and superstructure?" Milton followed up with.
Decker's voice cut in and out with a hiss as the interference suddenly got worse for a moment forcing him to repeat himself, "Presently unsure, their entire way of doing metallurgy is completely different then ours, they melt metal with something called dust. They've shown me what it looks like but im still not sure I understand what it does. I have Doctor Belmonte studying it right now to see if it can even get it hot enough to melt the type of metals we would need." Decker adds after a moment, "She's a good hire sir, for such a young girl she certainly knows her way around the sciences it seems."
Milton agrees with a sharp, almost proud nod. Belmonte had proved herself as more than just a CMO multiple times now on her short tenor aboard the ship's crew. She was indeed a good hire.
Decker continues in-between static crackles, "I also have another meeting this afternoon, should he be able to arrive in time, with a General Ironwood of Atlas; he apparently holds the title of Headmaster and has multiple seats in the Council of Atlas. If we can get along, it should help us out more in the long run; Atlas is widely considered the most technologically competent of the four," he adds quickly, "Five if you consider Menagerie, Countries on this planet. I think I'll present them with the gift when he arrives; that way, we aren't showing blatant favoritism for Vale.
"Is there anything else you want to add Commander? We're almost out of time."
Decker puts a hand to his chin in thought, the interference worsening every second. "No sir, thats pretty much it for today, so do I have permission?"
Milton hesitates; he doesn't like the idea of leaving the five crewmembers on the planet for longer than necessary, but he trusts the Commander, "Very well, Decker, I trust your judgment as the Diplomatic head of this endeavor we find ourselves in but, keep my crew safe down there." Before Decker can fully respond, the interference cuts the comms link with a crackling hiss of continued static. To Decker, it looks as if the Captain abruptly hung up on him. Milton shakes his head, knowing they won't be in contact again for a few days.
January 16, 2339
Planet Remnant
FOS Bishop Anders
Bishop squeezed off two rounds rapidly into the paper target downrange, feeling the subtle feeling of the bolt carrier group locking back as the last round was expended; he rapidly pressed his trigger finger onto the mag release and, like clockwork, pulled another magazine from his rig and seated it into the flared mag well of his rifle before pressing the bolt release and firing another two rounds into the target his sights never leaving it.
"Time?" He asks Blaisdell, who's holding a shot timer in her left hand.
"Shot to shot is about 2.56 seconds."
"Thats pretty slow still." He grimaces, not happy with the results.
Blaisdell quirks her eyebrows at the man, "That's pretty fast." she responds mawkishly, unhappy with her own results of anywhere between 4 and 5 seconds - she was improving from her earlier times, but it was a gradual change.
Bishop, never turning down an opportunity to annoy his trainee sets the rifle down on the ranges table and turns, "Well yeah, I guess everythings fast to you, your slow as shit."
"Thank you, Bishop, I wasn't aware of my impairments; please continue to point them out, its the only way I'll learn. Dick." She deadpans the response with as little emotion as she can muster.
It wasn't her fault they never focused on changing mags during training; she never was in a situation where a fast magazine change would really matter; she could count on her fingers the number of times an enemy combatant was within a hundred yards of them - they usually got pulped by the Sentinel Strikers long before then.
"Come on, its your turn you broody bitch, besides im only pointing out the flaws I find most disgusting about you."
She knew he wasn't referring to her burns - even Bishop, as unlikeable as he was, wasn't that big of an asshole but, still absentmindedly pulled on her sleeve to hide them if they were showing as she stepped up to the range.
Bishop continued talking unknowingly, "It was nice of the Commander to talk to Ozpin about using the range, especially now that we're going to be stuck here for a while." He pauses as some students appear, eager themselves to use the range but hesitating upon seeing them. "We should hit the outdoor range sometime later and get some footwork done. And im not saying to be mean for once Blaisdell but, your footwork is shit."
"Thank you once again, Bishop, I cant know of my weaknesses unless you point them out." She slams the bolt home, fires two rounds, and continues the rest of the drill.
"Im just saying." He's unheard as the next two rounds hit the target. "Hey, 3.8 seconds your getting there, what changed?"
Blaisdell looks at him then, with a slight smirk, responds, "I was just picturing your face on the target."
"Ha-ha, very funny." He deadpans back. "Run it a couple more times. This drill isn't about accuracy, by the way, it's about speed; worry about hitting the A zone when you've got the motions down."
He watched her run the drill a few more times while charting down the time adjustments; she was improving considerably compared to earlier in the day when they first started but still wasn't as fast as his slowest time.
The students that had hesitated to approach earlier had finally found the nerve to go into one of the bays next to them; a girl with red hair tied in a ponytail and a scraggly blonde boy; they were far enough away that they could be heard still but not so close as to get in each other's way. Bishop glanced their way, curious at what sort of hardware they were using, only to double-take as what appeared to be a javelin turned into a rifle at the press of a button.
"What the fuck." He drew out the last word, baffled at the movement of the strange weapon.
He had a rough idea of the Academy's purpose - that being to fight the Grimm and whatnot, but clearly, there were some loose strings that he hadn't entirely pulled taut yet. Namely the frankly ridiculous weapon he had just seen.
He nudges Blaisdell, who was reloading the magazines inside the bay; she gives him an annoyed look and a short, "What?"
"Keep running that drill but chart your own time, im gonna go talk to those students in the next bay - they've got something strange I wanna check out," he responds.
Blaisdell just gives him a look in between puzzlement and annoyance at being bothered before going back to refilling the mags.
The strange rifle/javelin hybrid was already firing by the time he crossed the handful of empty bays toward them; the blonde was the one firing; he stood with his elbow out in a vague imitation of a chicken wing and was firing a shot roughly every four seconds - clearly struggling. The gun's internal magazine finally ran empty, and the boy lowered the rifle.
"How was that?" The blonde boy asked her hesitantly.
"It...was...well, an attempt." The woman hesitated even more so with her answer.
The blonde noticeably deflated at the statement, "I'll be honest Pyrrha I dont exactly understand the point in all this humiliation. I use a sword not a gun."
"Jaune we've been over this, its important to diversify your abilities, a sword is only as good as long as its in your hands."
Two shots echoed off the bay rapidly as Blaisdell had undoubtedly finished reloading the mags and begun the drill again. Bishop mentally counted the seconds in his head. 'One, two, thr-' Two more shots dispersed quickly before he could finish.
Forgetting momentarily why he had come over to the students, he turns to where Blaisdell would be and shouts to her, "How long was that? It sounded slow."
The students jump, having not noticed the man behind them. Their eyes narrow with curiosity as Blaisdell responds to him. "3.12 seconds." She sounded proud to say that, so Bishop let her have the moment.
"Guess my internal clock's a little slow today! Thats a good improvement!"
He gets two more shots for a response; his eyes meet the two teenagers staring at him strangely; they don't recognize him as a teacher, maybe an older student; the blonde coughs politely, and the redhead gives a hesitant wave and a short but polite sounding "Hello."
"Hey, hows it going." Bishop responds casually, unsure how to ask them what exactly the device they are using is.
"It's going...fine?" the blonde says in more of a question than a proper response.
"Is there something you need from us?" The redhead manages with a slightly bewildered expression.
"Not really, just curious as to what the fuck that thing is that blondie over there is holding." He points to the blonde, or more particularly, to the weapon in his hands.
Pyrrha pointedly looks at him, unsure if it was an insult, before following his finger to her weapon.
"You mean Miló? It's my weapon, why is something wrong with it?"
Bishop throws out his hands in a non-threatening way. "I don't mean anything by it; it's just really strange to me; I have never seen something like it."
Jaune makes a strangled noise out of nowhere and whisper-screams to the redhead. "Pyrrha! Pyrrha! He's one of the aliens they told us about during the morning assembly yesterday!"
Bishop cracks a slight smirk at the kid, he wasn't sure if the guy was trying to be intentionally funny or not, but it was to him. "Yes, I am one of the 'aliens'." He puts the last word in air quotes making fun of the expression.
Pyrrha looks to Bishop only now with a quirk in her eyebrow before dropping it in exchange for a pleasantly polite smile, "Would you like to see it Mr.-?"
He closes the gap between them with an outstretched hand, "Bishop Anders, im head of the Security Team, not that its really necessary, and yes I would like to see it if you dont mind."
Pyrrha takes his hand and gives it a surprisingly firm handshake with a smile, "It's nice to meet you , i'm Pyrrha Nikos and," she gestures towards the blonde, "This is my partner Jaune."
She turns around and grabs Miló from Jaune, who steps aside so that Bishop can get a closer look at it. Pyrrha shows that it's empty and briefly goes over the features of the semi-automatic rifle; Bishop takes note of the almost jezail-like slope of the stock.
"-And then it turns into a javelin." She continues explaining as she mecha-shifts the weapon into the javelin form.
Bishop cuts her off, "Ok, what was that? Is that normal?"
Pyrrha looks puzzled at the two questions before realizing she was talking to someone not from their world, "Oh yes, it's very prevalent, in-fact Jaune here is the only huntsman in training that I've met without a mecha-shift like this."
Jaune answers the questioning gaze Bishop throws his way, "My sheath turns into a shield." He demonstrates so, having brought the weapon along planning on sparring with Pyrrha after the practice at the range. "It's still mecha-shift, but it's not anything special."
Pyrrha frowns at Jaune, displeased at his lack of confidence. "That's not true, Jaune. Your mecha shift may be simple, but you don't have to worry about maintenance as often as we do. That alone makes it special." She turns to Bishop curiously, "Do you not have these things in space?"
Bishop chuckles to himself, the idea of a bunch of guys in a stack with transforming guns being entertaining to him,
"Other than the occasional custom job, no. Every once in a while, there's a couple of pirates with brass knuckles welded to some old K-Frame's but in a professional design sense like your guy's kit, no."
"You have pirates in space?" Jaune ask's.
"Pirates, Slavers, the whole nine yards really. It's actually how we got here." Seeing their interested gazes prompts Bishop to continue, "I was below deck when it happened, so I didnt really catch much of it but, they were hiding in some debris field and shot us up before we got sucked into a wormhole and popped out here. Tale as old as time."
The other two look at him disbelievingly, still struggling with the concept of someone referring to space travel as a casual concept.
Pyrrha's scroll suddenly starts ringing, and she fumbles with it to answer. Bishop overhears the muffled conversation on the caller's end as she speaks, or more realistically, screams.
"Pyrrha! Where are you guys? You're late for the team hangout! Team RWBY's already here!"
Pyrrha looks around, surprised at the passage of time, before responding, "I'm sorry. Jaune and I must have lost track of time; we met one of the people from space. We'll be right over."
"You what?" Pyrrha has to move the phone away from her head as the other girl screams through the receiver. "Bring them along; I have so many questions!"
She hesitantly smiles at Bishop, knowing he, without a doubt, heard it, "I dont want to be a bother Nora, im sure he's busy."
"I actually should probably see why Blaisdell stopped shooting, it was nice meeting you all." He throws out a lazy wave and steps away from their bay.
"Was that one of them? Quick Pyrrha ask him if-"
He just barely can't catch the question as he enters Blaisdell's bay.
"Jesus Christ, Zips. Do you have narcolepsy or something?"
Blaisdell is sitting on the floor with her head on her knees, completely asleep again. Her rifle is cleared and sat on the range table. Bishop sighed; he was going to really have to pressure her to see Belmonte about some form of sleep assistance. Hell, he might have to see her himself about it if Blaisdell keeps falling asleep.
"You've got thirty minutes until I kick you awake." He mutters to her as he sits down on the other end of the wall, but she stirs awake suddenly, disturbed by the motion of Bishop.
"Oh Sleeping Beauty your finally awake."
Blaisdell yawns and shoots a glare as she rests her head against the wall, knees still pressed to her chest. "Oh, you must be Maleficent, then. Curious I thought a prince was supposed to wake me up not the witch." She bites back.
"Cute. Very cute; going to be hard for a prince to save you acting like that all the time Blaisdell." He gets up and throws out a hand to help Blaisdell up, which she reluctantly takes. He adds as he pulls her up, "Atleast Cinderella did her job without sleeping in the middle of it."
"Look at the time sheet asshole- and stick with a princess, am I Sleeping Beauty or Cinderella now?"
Bishop rolls his eyes at her and grabs the card to read it, "I was thinking more Cruella de Vil now, actually." He looks at the timesheet, a consistent three-second average; She was performing pretty solid now. "Hey, not bad; I guess I can't say you were slacking off too much if that's what you're getting on times." He folds the card and shoves it into his pocket before grabbing the rifle from the table, "Come on, we lost track of time - let's roll."
Blaisdell, in turn, grabs the ammo cans they brought along for practice, much lighter now that the magazines inside are empty.
"So." She begins, as they start the trek back to the shuttle, "Big fan of Disney movies are we Bishop."
"Nice try, Blaisdell, im not biting that bait."
January 16, 2339
Planet Remnant - Ozpin's Office
Commander Sloan Decker
"It's a pleasure to meet you in person, General, but, I feel the need to warn you that our personnel are likely not to salute like your's have saluted me."
"That is quite alright Commander, it is merely a sign of respect given the authority you have."
The introductions were polite as Decker clenched the small bag in his hands; it contained a metaphorical Golden Disk in the form of a terminal filled with whatever information they could scrounge up offline that they had. It didn't contain the exact things the guidebook had recommended showing uncontacted people, but it was close enough to work. He thought it would help the people of Remnant trust them more and, as a result, decided to be as transparent as possible about their history, good and bad. He was still unsure if showing the bad stuff would be such a good idea; when he ran it by the Captain, he suggested that it wouldn't be one but ultimately left it in his hands as the expert.
Four other people were in the room, not including him; Ozpin was sitting at his desk - sipping delicately at a cup of too-hot coffee. Standing next to him was Goodwitch, who seemed slightly nervous, subtly showing why through repeated glances at Qrow, who he understood had a bit of an interrupting problem. It was the first time he would sit in on a meeting with him involved; he would usually leave whenever Ozpin would start the meeting. Finally was General Ironwood, who Decker reckoned was no doubt a career soldier, given his rank and tense stature.
Decker shrugs, finalizing his decision to offer them the terminal, reckoning that it was better that they see the terrible things on top of all the positives than just the negatives later on that they would inevitably find anyways.
"I've brought a gift." He hesitantly begins, unclasping the bookbag containing the device and pulling it out.
All of their eyes or on the laptop-sized terminal that he sets upon the desk delicately and presses the power button. Which after a slight whirring noise boots up to its starting screen default background and login screen - he had made sure that the techs onboard the Evelyn's Vain had made it as simple as possible to use with no unnecessary features, given how they would need to use it.
He taps the login button to unlock the rest of the hardware's features and reveal the device's home screen - which was covered in numerous haphazardly organized folders containing various media, namely videos such as documentaries.
"We didn't have much time to organize all these files. So it's going to be a little rough around the edges." He apologised. "And I wanted to have it for the meeting with you, General Ironwood."
Ironwood waves his hand dismissively, "That's alright Commander Decker, it's an honor you would bestow such a gift with us in the first place."
Decker faintly hears a chuckle coming from Qrow that is quickly choked back upon Goodwitch's glare as he moves to open one of the files, tapping away at the screen.
The file he taps on is titled "Lost but Soon to be Found 4".
"I couldn't figure out what media to open with, so I made my own; it's just a short video detailing what we were doing and how we found your Planet." Decker states that as the video begins to play, he spins the monitor around so Ozpin can see it and lets the rest gather around his side of the table.
The video began with 'Aram Khachaturian's Masquerade Suite: Waltz' playing over the ship's intercom as it left Plato Station for its departure, one of the cameras revealing its undocking and subsequent leaving of Plato Station's docking bay and into space - Decker's voice followed as the ship entered FTL, he explained their mission to find the 'Remnant of Asgard' and how its sister ships had all been destroyed and lost for years and how he and Captain Milton had found the first of three.
The video cuts to them in another part of space, this time in the Orion Sector, as the pilot commits to evasive maneuvers to dodge some of the Pirate's weaponry. Decker proceeds to inform them about how they were sucked through a wormhole as a result of a sudden pirate attack and had suffered pretty severe damage to their engines, preventing them from entering FTL and moving at full speed.
It continues playing, showing the wormhole before it swallows the Evelyn's Vain. Then it cuts again and reveals Remnant and its destroyed moon. Goodwitch gasps, prompting Decker to pause the video so that she may speak uninterrupted.
"That's Remnant then?"
"It's alot like Earth our homeworld, only we have a couple more landmasses."
He unpauses the video, and Decker's voice plays through the speakers again, detailing the situation before the 'Masquerade Suite: Waltz' returns on a timelapse of Remnant throughout a day through the cockpit camera, and the video ends, prompting the file to close automatically.
"I know this is all things I have already informed you about but, like I said beforehand I really didnt know what to open with."
He spins the computer back his way and clicks on a random folder, then spins it back towards Ozpin, before continuing, "The terminal should function similarly to your scrolls, touchscreen and all; I opened a random folder for you to look through, but by all means feel free to explore everything on it."
"What all is on this terminal?" Ironwood says, peering closer at it over Ozpin's shoulder as he taps a file labeled, "Sasquatch - Anomalous Creature or Native American Mythos," which begins playing generic non-copywritten music as numerous poorly edited men in gorilla suits are interposed onto the screen.
Decker hesitantly smiles at the others, confused expression of embarrassment, "We had to kind of take what we could get, I copied whatever the crew and I had in the media library aboard the ship, so theres probably more then a few" He pauses. Trying to explain it, "Silly videos in the hardrive."
"I see." Ozpin answers by tapping the x mark on the video, closing it, and then tapping on another file titled "The Challenger Disaster."
"To answer your question, General Ironwood. What's put on this computer here is a collection of our culture, history, music, really anything relevant to our selves as people so that we can understand eachother's nuances better whether they are similar or vastly different from your own."
General Ironwood nods to him in understanding and then leans into the screen as the video plays. "That is a rocket yes?"
Decker asks, "The Challenger Rocket, you mean?" Ironwood nods again in response, "Yeah, I put that in there myself, actually. It serves both as an example of early attempts at spaceflight before we became proficient at it and also as an example of our hubris. I think it's important to understand that even if we are technologically superior then you, we can still make mistakes. The last thing I want the people of Remnant to think is that we are all perfect, we have our issues just as you do."
The Challenger detonates as he finishes saying it. Goodwitch stifles a gasp at the sudden detonation, surprised not so much at the loss of life but at the sheer suddenness of it, and Ironwood looks on at the falling debris with wide eyes for much the same reason.
"It took seventy-three seconds for several lives to be snuffed out because, someone made a mistake. I suppose in hindsight the video may be a little violent for something meant to show you the deeds of our people but, you should see all of it, good and bad moments."
"Im sorry to hear of their losses, we've had our own attempts at space flight but, none of them as disasterous as that." Ozpin says, watching the rest of the video in fascination as it describes how far the debris had flown.
Decker waves a hand, "Don't be; this was an event that happened Centuries ago; it's merely a footnote in our history of conquering space; we've had many more tragic and severe disasters. The colony ships we've been looking for are among them."
Qrow says something for the first time, eyes still affixed on the screen as it explains why the Challenger exploded, the simple failure of two O-rings, and how easily it could have been prevented. "How many people were aboard those Colony Ships you keep mentioning."
Decker puts a hand to his chin, "Standard Colony ships house, I believe, roughly ten to fifty thousand personnel so as to preserve genetic diversity as a failsafe; I believe there's a few files about those somewhere in the hard drive, by the way." He adds, "But the ones such as the 'Remnant of Asgard.' were a classification of their own, I believe each one could hold a quarter of a million people, though I dont think any of them reached maximum capacity." The casualness that Decker had relayed the information had all of them reeling.
"Wow, thats uh," Qrow pauses, finding no eloquent way to continue, "Thats alot of people."
"It was a pretty big deal when they went missing, but, we tend to forget pretty quickly about these tragedies nowadays. Life is cheap in space."
Decker abruptly stands up as an alarm Blairs on his wristwatch with a repeated beep, "I must have lost track of time, gentlemen; I believe its time I report to my Captain; once again, thank you for your time, and it was a pleasure to meet you in person General. Enjoy the gift."
With the goodbyes said, Decker leaves the room, leaving the four of them to sit silently and look at the device as Ozpin closes the folder to see all of the other information on it.
Qrow breaks it with a hand through his hair, "This is a lot to take in Oz."
"I think we are all going to need a bit of time to process all of this information, much less go through all of the files."
"I'm beginning to wonder if they would be able to assist us with the current situation of the Fall Maiden." Ironwood states suddenly, his hand to his chin as he voices his contemplation while staring out the window at Beacon below.
Qrow coughs up the liquid in his flask in surprise, having long since taken it out to take greedy gulps from. "Your joking right, Tinman? We dont know anything about these people!" He pauses and puts the flask away, neatly hidden within the confines of his shirt. "They dont know anything about us! We cant just tell them about Salem and expect them to go along with it."
"That's not what I meant, Qrow! I'm simply suggesting that due to their obvious technological leap ahead of us, they might be able to figure out what's wrong with Amber. They don't need to know about Salem to do that."
"So you think they'll just come down to our Basement, see her locked up in that glass tube and expect them not to ask any questions about how she got like that, the cold up there must be killing your brain Ironwood if you think they won't."
Before Ironwood can respond, Ozpin interjects, "Enough!"
Both of them freeze in place, mere inches away from each other's faces, and look at Ozpin sheepishly before taking their respective corners opposite to each other. Qrow pulls out his flask again.
"What do you think, Ozpin?"
Ozpin answers after he taps on a video file titled, "Nagoya Arsenal Auditory Combat Dampener Implant User Manual."
"I think that you both raise good points, we don't know much about them, and they don't know much about us. Both of those are true but can be remedied; I believe they have already begun to do so with this wealth of knowledge they have provided at our fingertips. And I may have an idea pertaining to them learning more about us, though I will run it by you first, Glynda. Thats for another time however."
He pauses to take another sip of coffee, now having cooled down to a comfortable temperature, and then continues after a sigh of relief.
"I think that we don't have much time before Salem's minions find Amber again." He nods as if confirming something in his head. "I also think, however, that it wouldn't be healthy to lie to them about how Amber got to her state by not informing them about Salem, given how budding our relationship is. Doubly so, given how they have appeared to be nothing but honest and transparent with us. At the same time, in this specific circumstance what they dont know cant hurt them."
"Your running us in circles Ozpin, as much as it pains me to admit it, Qrow has a point, is this something we can risk. Can we risk Amber dying before we can test the transfer, which might not even work I might add?"
Qrow interrupts, "Or can we risk scaring these newfound friends of ours off with the knowledge of an immortal grimm controlling monster like Salem."
Ozpin again sips from his coffee mug, "I think it's worth the risk. Not that I don't understand your points however Qrow, this is a delicate balance beam we find ourselves on and im not keen to betraying their trust given there hospitality at the same time. We still dont have a proper Candidate for the transfer aswell, perhaps even if they cant fully cure the Fall Maiden, they might delay her death and allow us more time to find one."
"But Ozpin."
"Enough, Qrow I wont argue with you about this, I have made my choice. We will ask them for help with Amber." He turns towards Glynda, who has remained largely silent for the entire time, "May I speak with you regarding what I mentioned earlier." He pauses and looks towards Qrow and then Ironwood. "In private."
The two of them catch the hint and find themselves glaring at each other in the elevator as it goes down.
Glynda nods her head towards Ozpin, a hand touching her hip unconsciously close to her weapon. "So what is this idea Headmaster?"
"Well, Miss Goodwitch, what say you to the idea of them sitting in on a couple of our Huntsmen Classes to learn about us? We are a school, after all, aren't we?" A curious grin makes its way to his face. "And what better place to educate them about our world than here?"
Author Notes: This chapter was hard to write, dudes, and I have no idea why. Going out for some range time again this weekend to work out some kinks, so the next update to the story might be a little later then the usual, but we'll see.
Also wooooo ten chapters lets goooooooooooo!