AUTHOR'S NOTES: This chapter got pretty delayed, because I've been doing a ton of legal research into the Uniform Code of Military Justice and court-martials. I thought I would get into that tonight, but it turns out that's actually a few chapters off-the conversation with the Blacksmith ended up taking up the entire story.

So this is a very, very talky chapter. Yang and Ruby talking to the Blacksmith is even something of an infodump, but hopefully it's an entertaining one. This felt a bit like the "JINN Reveals All Lost Fable" chapter, which I think is one of my best...we'll see if this ranks up there. In any case, we finally learn the origins of the Night Raven, who the Blacksmith (and Ambrosius) really are, and the legendary "Norway Mission" that Ozpin, Qrow, and Tai are always referencing.

Before we get to that, however, there's a few things to talk about regarding the court-martial...through what Game of Thrones called "sexplanation." In this case, I piss off both White Rose and White Knight shippers with some Slushpuppies. Hey, Ruby's straight in this story and Jaune is dead, so...

As always, reviews are always and very much appreciated. V10 may not be greenlit, but this story is!

Visiting Officers' Quarters

Ramstein Air Force Base, Federal Republic of Germany

17 September 2001

"What do you think of the new uniform?" Weiss asked.

"It looks very good," Marrow replied. "Especially on that chair."

She snuggled close to him. Neither were wearing uniforms. Or anything at all. Whereas their lovemaking at Silac had been awkward and hasty—if fun—this night they had taken their time, and that had been even more fun. Their worlds were at peace, even if it was temporary. Weiss stretched, looking down at their naked bodies against the government-issue blue sheets, and thought that a girl could get used to this. Then she laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?" Marrow asked.

"A Schnee…naked in bed with a Faunus." Weiss laughed again. "What would my father say."

Marrow decided not to be offended. "Who cares what that old bastard thinks. I hope they hang him higher than Haman."

"Who?"

"Oh, something my dad liked to say." He settled back onto the pillow, thinking he was the luckiest man on the planet. "You would've liked my dad. He was a cop."

Weiss turned over to look at Marrow, resting her hand on his chest. "Did he die in the line of duty?" By Marrow's tone of voice, she knew his father must have died.

"Yeah…kind of. Some punk kid was holding up a convenience store. Dad wasn't even on duty, but he tried to stop it. The gun went off, and Dad got hit in the throat. The kid later said he didn't even mean to shoot him…and the jury believed him. He got a few years for manslaughter. I suppose he's out by now, or he soon will be." Marrow sighed. "That's why I joined up—other than the fact that I saw the Thunderbirds when I was a kid, with my dad. Always wanted to be one of those guys. Anyway, I thought that maybe I could make my dad proud." He nodded, half to himself, half to Weiss. "Kinda feel like I have, eh?"

"I'd say so." After Ruby had told all of them that she, Yang, Blake and Oscar were facing court-martial, Weiss had spent the day filling out paperwork. One of the few enjoyable tasks was to fill out the nomination for Marrow to get an Air Force Cross for giving himself up to Salem's men to protect her. She doubted he would get the Cross, but even a Silver Star would be some acknowledgement of Marrow's selflessness. She bent down and kissed his chest. This was a nice thank you as well. "I would definitely say so."

"Aw, you're just being nice." He leaned over and kissed her chest, the hollow between her small breasts. Weiss felt herself getting aroused, and reached down, but Marrow intercepted her hand. "Whoa, down, girl! Give me a few more minutes, eh?"

"Sorry," Weiss giggled, then felt bad. She was having sex with Marrow Amin in a VOQ bed, while her friends faced prison. Her smile faded.

Marrow noticed. "Thinking about the others?"

"Yes. It's not fair." She leaned her head against his chest, feeling Marrow's heartbeat, her white hair fanning out over him. "I made the same decision as Ruby and the others. Why not put me on trial?" She lightly thumped her head on his chest in frustration. "The whole thing is so ridiculous."

"You might get your chance," Marrow warned. "I called my mom this afternoon to let her know I was okay. Thank God the paperwork that I was dead got hung up in red tape…anyway, I told her what was going on. She's been following this trial thing on CNN. This started when everyone thought we were dead. Now they're all excited that we're still alive, so they can go after someone who's alive rather than someone who's dead."

Weiss remembered Pyrrha saying that the world would prefer a Ruby Flight full of dead heroines rather than a Ruby Flight full of live embarassments. Apparently she had been wrong. "Who's they?"

"Bunch of politicians, but one in particular…what was the name Mom said? Oh yeah. Alice Brighton. Ever hear of her?" Weiss shook her head. "Me neither. I guess she's this Senator from Wisconsin. I looked her up on the internet. Kinda pretty, but I digress. Anyway, she's the one sounding the charge." He brushed her hair back. "Mom said that she was badgering the German government to extradite you, too."

"I'm not sure whether to be relieved or angry." Weiss sat up and drew her knees up to her chin, leaning against the bed's backboard. "What's her problem? Did she know Ironwood or something?"

"Beats me. From what I read about her, I doubt it. Brighton never served in the military. She barely won the election back in '98; took out some old guy who had been in Congress since the Third War or something because the good cheeseheads of Wisconsin wanted new blood. They're predicting that she's not going to win reelection next year, so this is probably her chance to make a big splash. I guess Brighton's going to find out who 'lost' Poland, and Ruby Flight is her sacrifice. She puts all of you in the slammer, and she goes down in history as the ones who got the people responsible."

"Mein Gott, that is stupid." Weiss shook her head again. "The person responsible is Salem, for God's sake. Does anyone even mention her?"

"Not that I saw. But it totally makes sense, eh? The politicians, they can't get at Salem. She made them look stupid, because they sat there and dilly-dallied while we got our ass shot off. If they'd thrown what we've got in Europe now at her the moment that bitch came across the Vistula, Salem would be begging for mercy right now." Marrow rolled his eyes. "But they sat there and sent e-mails to each other, and complained on Fox and CNN, and pointed fingers at the other parties. Dems, Repubs, Greens, Parti Quebecois…and in the meantime poor Ironwood lost his head, and here we are." He shrugged. "Hell, I wonder…even if Ironwood hadn't done what he did, we still would have lost Poland. We just didn't have the manpower and Salem ground us down."

Weiss nodded sadly. "And that's the other reason, Marrow. The politicians know that they botched it; that's why they suddenly fell in behind General Gale activating the same Reforger plan that Ironwood wanted to. The politicians can't admit that they screwed up, though—that doesn't get them reelected. Prosecuting us does." She stretched out again and tried not to smile as Marrow's eyes instantly followed the path of her legs. "Still…this Brighton person doesn't seem like she was one of the people dragging her feet, if she was a junior Senator. She has no reason to come after us."

"Just some damn ladder climber, Weiss. That's all." He traced her body with his eyes again, and Weiss couldn't repress a delicious shudder. "You sure you want to leave with the rest of Ruby Flight tomorrow? Good chance that the moment you step onto American soil, they're not letting you leave."

Weiss took a deep breath, slowly let it out. "I have to, Marrow," she said softly. "I was forced to abandon them the last time. I'll not willingly do that again, not ever. If they throw me into the dock next to Ruby, Yang and Blake…so be it. If nothing else, they can use me as a witness for the defense."

"Gonna miss you."

"And I, you." Weiss got up and straddled Marrow. This was not love; she knew that and so did he. It was affection, though, two people who felt alone and needed someone with them. A few weeks ago, Weiss had wondered why Ruby had chosen to seduce Oscar, someone she had barely known for a month or two. Now she knew why. They were in a war, now both foreign and domestic, and there was no guarantee either would see each other again. Marrow was returning to Ace Flight, with Elm Ederne and Harriet Bree, and whoever they found to fill out the flight. He might die while she was talking on a stand in a courtroom. She might be imprisoned.

Weiss put those thoughts out of her mind, remembering an old American song: we have tonight, who needs tomorrow. She bent down and kissed Marrow. "Are you ready now?" she whispered huskily.

"You bet," Marrow whispered back, playfully licked her lips, and showed her how ready he was.

Wiesbaden Army Hospital

Wiesbaden, Federal Republic of Germany

18 September 2001

"So anyway, there's a possibility this thing might not even go to a court-martial." Yang talked as she and Ruby walked down a sidewalk towards the military hospital, the largest in Europe. Following at a discreet distance were two Military Policemen. It was a beautiful fall day. "They still got to do the Article 32 investigation. If the investigation doesn't find enough evidence, then poof, no court-martial."

"Yang," Ruby said morosely, "they're going to find evidence. Hell, I admitted it to the general that we disobeyed orders. Everyone in Poland knew about it."

Yang spread her hands. "Look, Rubes. The big charge is mutiny, right? That's the one that can land us in the slammer. Well, what we did isn't technically mutiny, so they'll probably toss that charge out. The others are bad—Big Chicken Dinner bad—but they won't toss us in prison for Conduct Unbecoming." Yang used the slang for a bad conduct discharge.

"Yang, we can't get Big Chicken Dinners. We're officers. That's only for enlisted."

"Oh…right." Yang sheepishly rubbed the back of her head. She needed to bone up on her UCMJ, she admitted; she had cribbed the notes for that particular quiz in Officers' Candidate School. Then again, maybe they can toss us in Leavenworth for Conduct Unbecoming, Missing Movement, and everything else, Yang thought to herself. She wasn't going to ask Ruby. In fact, Yang's bright and cheery demeanor was something of an act, trying to help her sister. The sight of Ruby's broken and naked body haunted Yang. When she needed me the most, I wasn't there.

"Yang…" Ruby's voice was small. "Did…did I do the right thing?"

"With Ironwood's order? Fuck yes, you did."

"No…with accepting the court-martial. We could just resign."

Yang stopped just short of the entrance. She and Blake had talked about that the night before. Yang had sneaked into Blake's room at the VOQ, which had startled the Faunus—at first, Blake thought that Yang was attempting to renew their conversation at Silac about their relationship, such as it was. That wasn't what Yang was there for, however, but a discussion on resigning. "Forget it, Ruby. I spent a year in basic and OCS, then a year in flight school. That doesn't even count my four years at UNC. Uncle Sam spent a shitload of money on me, and I gave six years of my life to put these on." She and Ruby were wearing their blue uniforms, and Yang tapped the silver pilot wings over her left breast. "We might end up flying with Robyn before it's all over, or with some merc unit out in the desert somewhere in the back-ass of beyond, but by God those fuckers are going to have to work to take these away from me. You talk to Oscar?"

"No…not yet. I couldn't get a call through last night." Oscar was still in the United States, held at Signal for the court-martial.

"Well, I talked with Blake. We agreed. We hang together, one way or the other." Yang thumbed at the hospital. "So let's go talk to this Blacksmith chick, then check in on Little. We're catching the redeye out to Signal tonight from Ramstein." She rolled her eyes. "Space-A on a friggin' C-141. You'd think that they'd let us fly back in fighters or something."

"Probably think we'd steal them and fly off to Venezuela or something." Ruby followed Yang into the hospital, taking off her cap the same time Yang did.

They were cleared into the restricted wing of the hospital. At the room Ruby was told the Blacksmith was in, she was surprised to find not just two Army guards, but a pair of tall men in suits, with sunglasses on inside and wires in their ear. Ruby wondered why they weren't just wearing jackets with CIA stamped on them. They were signed in, searched, and then allowed to go in.

Ruby stopped at the sight of the Blacksmith, remembering that this was really only the second time she had seen the woman. Yang gave a start at the sight: she had never met the Blacksmith. This time, at least, she was not wearing stained coveralls and a welding mask; instead, she wore pajamas, though the blue-gray headband she had worn at Silac was still around her head. She was sitting in bed, but there were no machines or tubes hooked up to her. Her gray eyes were clear and alert, and she smiled at the two pilots when they walked in. "Good afternoon," she said, in her strangely accented English. "I've been waiting for you."

"We got a little sidetracked," Ruby said.

"So I heard. Little came by and saw me yesterday and told me. She is doing well."

"Are you?" Ruby asked.

A single nod. "Oh yes. I am fully recovered. This Director Arashikaze wants me to stay here for now, at least until we talked." The Blacksmith sighed. "I suppose she will not allow me to return to Silac, but such is the way of things. I am used to it." She motioned them closer, to two chairs set on either side of the bed. "Please, have a seat." As they got closer, Ruby saw that the Blacksmith was older than she had looked at Silac; there were deep lines in her face. Her eyes were very dark, almost black, and beneath the loose pajamas, Ruby noticed the muscles. Even sitting in bed, the woman towered over her, and had a least a head or two on Yang.

The Blacksmith peered at both of them, and smiled again. "And of course I see the resemblance now. You are the—what is the American term?—spitting image of your mother." She regarded Yang. "And you are another daughter. You two are…half-sisters?"

"That's right," Yang replied. Now that they were closer, the Blacksmith was slightly less intimidating. Slightly. "You knew our mom?"

"Certainly." The Blacksmith pointed to Ruby. "She is the daughter of Summer Rose and Taiyang Xiao Long…though she looks very little like her father." Then she pointed at Yang. "You look very much like your father, and your face is your mother's, as is your messy hair—Raven Branwen, was it not?"

Yang self-consciously touched her hair. It was far out of regulation, but few ever called her on it. She really didn't like being compared to Raven. "Yeah. Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?" The Blacksmith raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Don't really want to talk about it."

"I see. But that is not what you are here for…I understand." The Blacksmith took a breath, and motioned Yang towards a small refrigerator. "There are drinks in there. I suspect we will need them." Yang got the hint and pulled out three sodas, handing two to Ruby and the Blacksmith and keeping one for herself. The tall woman cracked open one of the cans and took a deep drink; the can looked like a doll's toy in her large hands. "Ahh, yes. Coca-Cola. The symbol of American decadence, and oh so good. I think Russia would have lost the Cold War anyway if America kept producing this and Burger King, yes?" She set the can aside. "So…what can I tell you, ladies?"

Ruby opened the can and took a long drink herself. "You said you knew my mom. Our mom," Ruby corrected herself, because Summer had been Yang's mother as much as her own.

"We are not being recorded?" the Blacksmith asked.

Ruby spread her hands. "Maybe? But if we are, I'm sure that only Director Arashikaze would know."

"And she already knows this story, I suspect."

"By the way, what do we call you?" Yang interrupted. "Ruby calls you the Blacksmith, but that can't be your real name."

The Blacksmith laughed. "No, of course not! It is actually the name Captain Ozpin gave me, to keep my identity secret. I rather liked it, so that is what I have called myself, all these years. But my real name is Polina Sergeiovna Korolev. You may call me Polina, if you wish."

"How old are you?" Ruby blurted, then winced. "I'm sorry…that's none of my business."

The Blacksmith—Polina—only smiled. "That is quite all right. I am 55 years old, I think. One does lose track when one does not celebrate birthdays. I know that I was at least 16 when the bombs came." Ruby and Yang listened in stunned fascination as Polina described her life. She had grown up in the Urals, in a planned and guarded community of Russian scientists. It officially did not exist to the outside world, so it had never been on any American target list, and therefore had escaped the rain of nuclear missiles in the Third World War. It had not escaped the fallout, however, and Polina described how the scientists managed to rig protection from the radiation. "We escaped it, mostly," Polina said. "Some of us went outside too early and died. My mother was one of those, but she would have died anyway. She was going mad from the isolation." It was said in a matter-of-fact way, and Yang was reminded of how Raven had nonchalantly described how the light from the Los Angeles firestorm was enough to read by at midnight.

"The fallout dissipated after around a month, but the Americans—the nearest target to us was hit by an Atlas missile—my father was sure of that, because of the cesium that poisoned the soil. We knew that the Americans seeded their big rockets with cesium and thorium because they were inaccurate—we did the same," Polina explained. "We were running out of food, and wanted to leave—but where to go? The Rodina, our Motherland, was gone. And then a woman arrived." Polina paused. "She wore the uniform of the Strategic Rocket Forces, but her skin and hair…they frightened me, even then. They were white as bones, her eyes red. The radiation had changed her, but did not kill her."

"Salem," Yang growled.

"You have seen her?" Polina asked. "Oh yes—her broadcast."

"We actually met," Yang told her. "I punched her in the tits, for all the good it did."

Polina looked thoroughly confused, but continued her story. "Yes, it was Salem. My father recognized her as Natasha Kukharchuk, the niece of Khrushchev, but she insisted that we call her Salem. It was an English word; we did not know what it meant. But she promised she would save us. We had nowhere else to go, no one else left to follow. She promised us shelter, food and safety, so of course we followed her. She took us to Mount Yamantau, and there we stayed, for several years."

"Mount Yamantau?" Ruby asked. "Where's that?"

Polina shrugged. "In the Urals. I'm not sure exactly where. I was only a teenager, and I was sick with radiation when we journeyed there." She sighed. "It was all that she had promised, Salem. Deep underground, stocked with food for the bigwigs, had they escaped Moscow—which none did, of course. I say we made better use of it. And there were factories being built. My father told me that Stalin had begun those—"

"Oh my God," Yang whispered, and her eyes met Ruby's. There it was, said casually. No interrogation, no torture, no drugs, but just a testimony by a middle-aged woman: Salem's lair, the one Summer Rose had died trying to find.

"What? What is it?" Polina asked, noticing the look.

"Nothing—" Ruby began, but the older woman's piercing eyes bore into her. "Um…we've wondered where Salem's base was, but nobody knew. And now, well…you just told us."

Polina nodded in understanding. "I do not know if that is where Salem is now, little one. She had other places, across Russia. She found them or built them later. I do know that is where the first drones were built—what you call GRIMM."

"Are you sure?" Yang asked.

"Very, Yang Taiyangovna." Polina smiled at the use of the patronym. "The one NATO codenamed the Beowulf? I designed that, my father and I. I also helped with the design of the Ursa and the Nevermore, after my father died."

Ruby's mouth fell open, as did Yang's. "You…you designed the fucking GRIMM?!" Yang exclaimed.

Polina was silent for a moment, then looked away. "Yes."

"Jesus Christ!" Yang blasphemed. "You built those fucking monsters!"

"I…did not know," Polina said. "No, that is not true. I did not want to know." She looked up and met their gaze. "Ruby, Yang…you must understand. My nation has always been one to follow. Usually not by choice. Russia has rarely gotten the leaders the Motherland deserved. I was born in 1946—I think—so I am too young to remember the Purges. My parents did. My father was even in a gulag for a time. It never occurred to us to simply kill Stalin or Beria or the others, to rise up in revolution. We knew that even if Stalin died, someone worse would just take his place. It was better to say nothing and try to survive." She shrugged. "Salem, however…she was not like that. She was certainly the Czarina, the queen, even if she refused to take any title but Salem. But she did not mistreat us. She refused to use slaves. She paid us in food, water, and what luxury goods we could recover from the rubble of our nation. We loved her, because she earned that love. She would work alongside us in the factory floor. She would help birth our children—she would weep when she saw the babies. I think she must have lost her own children in the war."

"She did," Ruby said softly, remembering what JINN had showed them in Kazakhstan.

"That explains a great deal," Polina replied. "To return to the GRIMM, I was told that they would be used to defend the Motherland from the Americans. Why wouldn't we believe that? After all, the Americans had been why our land was destroyed. None of us knew about Cuba then. All we knew was that the Americans had fired their rockets. I think my father knew, but…he said nothing. So we designed the GRIMM. They were primitive, they were poor stuff, but they were cheap and easy to build. Salem quoted Lenin's proverb: quantity has a quality all its own. We remembered—well, the older ones did—the T-34s we built in their thousands that drove back the Fascists in the Great Patriotic War. We thought we were doing the same. Salem would announce that we had turned back invasions from NATO and America. And of course we believed it. We had no reason not to."

"But she wasn't, was she?" Yang said. "She wasn't defending Russia. She was invading Europe and America. Shit…Dad told us about those days, when the GRIMM ran everyone out of the west, and the Air Force and Navy could barely stop them. I read about the Portland Massacre when I was a kid—"

"Yang, please," Ruby warned. "I think Miss Polina knows."

"I do," Polina confirmed. "I do now."

"What changed your mind?" Yang wanted to know.

"It was in the 1970s—1976, to be exact. Salem approached our design team—mine, and Ambrosius." She smiled wistfully. "We…Ambrosius and I…we had started a relationship, on the side. I was young, he was young, we worked together, well…you young ones can understand."

Ruby chuckled. "Heh, yeah."

"We joked that our design bureau was the new MiG. Salem agreed. So she wanted us to move away from producing GRIMM, and start producing manned aircraft. Salem wanted to train pilots, because GRIMM are inherently limited by their programming. She knew from her spies that the Americans were developing aircraft like the F-14, F-15, F-16 and F-18. Those rendered our GRIMM obsolete. We had to develop new technology to keep up—and not just advanced GRIMM. Thinking pilots, flying the most advanced aircraft ever built. Our project had to be faster, fly higher, and react with the speed of thought."

"The Night Raven," Yang finished.

"Yes," Polina confirmed. "That is what we called it. The Americans had another codename for it, but Night Raven is the true name for it. The strange part was…and you may not believe me, but…I did not want to build this aircraft."

"Why not?" Ruby asked.

"Because while I enjoyed my work, I had begun to question it," Polina explained. "If the Americans threatened the Motherland so much, then why had we not been conquered by them? Why had we not conquered them? Why were we building thousands of GRIMM a year, and we were no closer to victory? Even the Great Patriotic War was only four years long."

"I'm sorry; I kind of sucked at history," Yang said. "The Great Patriotic War?"

"World War II," Ruby explained.

"Sorry," Yang repeated. "Keep going, Polina."

Polina took another drink from the soda. "Yes, we had beaten the Fascists in that one and it had only taken four years. We were now going on fifteen years, with no end in sight. I noticed that Salem never mentioned victories any longer, only that we must work hard. I thought about asking her, but then I remembered my father, and so I kept quiet. And I remembered something else about my father: how he had said, after Stalin died, how Stalin had used the excuse of wreckers, of the kulaks, of saboteurs, and so on to justify his atrocities. While Salem was not arresting anyone—at least, not that we knew of—her words felt like lies.

"And then Ambrosius showed me the blueprints for the Night Raven. Salem had asked me to help design a high-flying, Mach 4-capable aircraft that was invisible to radar, both through stealth and through refractive technology, where a radar signal is fooled into detecting nothing." Like Emerald's Mirage at Beacon, Ruby remembered. "That made sense with the advanced radars on the American fighters, and the AWACS. What did not make sense was the payload bay. We knew it would carry four or six missiles, plus a pair of cannon, but there was an additional bay added by Ambrosius—the right size and shape to carry a single nuclear weapon."

Yang nodded. "That's what Raven said." At Ruby's questioning look, Yang said, "When Raven was showing off her Night Raven to me in Palmdale, when I went after Weiss, she mentioned that it had been designed to carry a nuke."

"Yes," Polina confirmed. "So the Night Raven was not an interceptor. It would approach a target stealthfully, unable to be detected by American or NATO radars. It would then deliver the weapon, then use its Mach 4 speed to outrace the shockwave. Salem told us that she planned on building dozens of them." Polina paused, and her hands shook for a moment. "And then I asked Ambrosius, privately, if he knew what Salem planned. He said he did."

"Polina…" Ruby wasn't sure if she should say what she wanted to; it was what JINN had revealed, and it was probably top secret. Then again, maybe Polina already knew. "We found out that Salem told Ozpin, the last time they met…she doesn't want to defend Russia, or take over the world. She wants to kill everyone, destroy the world, because she doesn't think we're worthy of living…not after World War III. Not after she watched her newborn die."

"I suspected as much," Polina replied. "Ambrosius…I don't think he realized the implications of our work. He doesn't really think about those things. He's not evil, not by any stretch, but…he's…he designs and builds for the sake of designing and building. If Salem ordered him to construct a bomb that would destroy all of humanity in an instant, he would do it for the technological challenge. He would not think of the moral implications."

That sounded fairly evil to Ruby, but it wasn't the time for that. "So what happened?"

"I knew that the Night Raven prototype was being built at our facility at Kosvinsky Mountain. I asked for some time away. Salem let those who she believed to be completely loyal go to Sochi or Vladivostok for vacation—both of them were controlled by criminal organizations, but they didn't ask questions. There had been rumors that the CIA—" Polina motioned around the room with a smile "—we called them the Dark Forces—had agents there, and the right whisper in the right place could get you in contact. No one we knew had tried, or at least lived to tell about it, but I was determined to try. As it turned out, it was not as difficult as it sounded. I didn't tell my contact about Yamantau, because I was afraid the Americans would use a nuclear bomb on it…but there were no civilian facilities at Kosvinsky. Our design team was there, but I knew that I was probably going to be killed once Salem learned I had betrayed her, so it did not matter to me anymore if I lived." Polina chuckled. "I thought the Americans would destroy the facility. I didn't think they would raid it and steal the Night Raven for themselves."

Yang snapped her real fingers with a grin. "The Norway Mission!"

"Is that what Ozpin called it?" Polina asked. "They did stage from Svalbard, as I remember now. It caught us completely by surprise. The strike team came in low, at oceantop level—there were four flghts of fighters and strike aircraft. The GRIMM were taken out before they could even warn us. The SAM and antiaircraft guns went next. On the heels of that was a ground team…I believe they were your Navy SEALs, or perhaps this Delta Force I have recently heard of. They seized the airfield, then secured the facility. Ambrosius was not there; he was at Yamantau. I was."

Polina laughed. "I am waiting there, with men in black masks and suits pointing guns at me, when these two women walked into the hangar where the prototype was. They were arguing over who would get to fly it." She looked at Ruby. "One was your mother. I was struck how beautiful she was…and that she had silver eyes, which I thought to be most unusual. The other was your mother, Yang. She was visibly pregnant, likely with you. She had no business being in combat, but she insisted that the Night Raven was hers, that Ozpin had promised her the aircraft."

"And then Ozpin came in and told her it was?" Yang said.

"No!" Polina was grinning now. "He did come in—I thought him rather handsome—but Summer Rose and Raven Branwen had already settled who would fly it. I'm not sure what the American term is, but they did this?" She moved her hands.

Now Ruby and Yang laughed too. "Rock, paper, scissors!" Ruby giggled.

"Yes! Yes, it was hilarious!" Polina's smile faltered. "Ozpin came to me and asked if I wanted to defect to the United States. I said that I would. I was more afraid to die than I thought." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "And that was when all hell fell upon us."

"What happened?" Yang asked, taking Polina's hand in hers.

"Salem. She reacted far faster than we thought, and the American ground force had not quite eliminated all opposition. We were running out of the hangar onto the airfield when I was shot by a sniper." Polina reached up and took off her headband, and they saw the old, jagged scar where none of the gray hair grew. "I remember nothing after that, but Ozpin told me later. The bullet went through my skull and into my brain, where it lodged. Ozpin told me that the others told Summer Rose to leave me, that I was dead or soon would be, but she refused to give up. She convinced two men—Qrow Branwen and Taiyang Xiao Long, your uncle and father, I suppose—to carry me and put me into the backseat of the Night Raven that Raven Branwen was to fly out."

"Whoa, hold on." Yang put up a hand. "Raven's bird doesn't have a backseat."

"She likely removed it," Polina told her. "It was only there so a bombardier/navigator could be carried."

"Yang, let her finish," Ruby said.

"I don't remember, as I said, but Ozpin told me that he believed Salem sent every GRIMM in Russia after the force. That strike force went in with 16 fighters and strike aircraft, along with four transports. Only six fighters and one transport survived to make it to Svalbard, and only then because two entire squadrons of fighters sortied from Bardufoss to fight off the last wave of GRIMM." Polina's eyes were distant. "I overheard in the hospital in Norway that the two squadrons were led by James Ironwood. The six survivors were Ozpin, Summer, Raven, Qrow, Taiyang, and someone named Glynda."

"Glynda Goodwitch," Ruby breathed.

"What an odd name," Polina commented, "but I suppose so. I didn't meet her. In fact, the only one I met again was Summer. She visited me in hospital. As it turned out, the bullet had left me with only minor brain damage—it is why, perhaps, I don't remember some things and seem eccentric. But I survived. I survived because Summer Rose didn't give up on me."

Ruby wiped her suddenly wet eyes. "Yeah…she was like that."

Yang's eyes were misty as well. "She sure was Supermom."

"You two should be very proud. In any case, she gave me her patch, her personal emblem. I never saw her again." Polina sighed. "After being discharged, I had nowhere to go. Ozpin offered to find me a place in the American aerospace industry, but somehow I could not do that either. I could not help design weapons for Ozpin anymore than I could for Salem. So I compromised: I would work for small groups, restoring aircraft and not designing them. I disappeared into Europe and eventually ended up with Charles Cheshire's group. I broke my promise because of his kindness, and helped design the Moonslice. Salem believed me to be dead, so I did not worry about being hunted down." She smiled at Ruby. "Until you came into my life a few days ago, it was quiet."

Ruby was the one who felt sheepish now. "Yeah…sorry about that."

"No, no, little one." Now it was Polina who took someone's hand: she gripped Ruby's and Yang's. "As one grows older, one starts to see destiny—or God, perhaps, or what the Japanese call karma. Whatever it was, you were meant to find me, and I you." She squeezed their hands, enough to hurt. "It is time I chose the side that I should have in 1977, and it is not Salem's."

"Actually…" Yang managed to extricate her hand, and flexed it to get feeling back. "You might want to lay low." Polina looked confused again. "Um…we didn't want to tell you this, and maybe it's classified, but what the hell—we're getting court-martialed anyway. After you got hurt in that airstrike, Cheshire teamed up with Neo Politan, the one who took over the Jabberwockies." Yang gave a brief description of what had happened at Kosice and Satu Mare, though she left Ruby's torture out of it. "Cheshire was last seen flying east in his Moonslice. The AWACS lost him over the Pripyat Marshes, and we think Salem's got an advance base or something near what's left of Minsk. If he made it there, he probably told Salem you're still alive."

Polina shrugged. "It is what it is, Yang Taiyangovna. I doubt Salem would bother with me now. It has been over twenty years."

"It gets worse." Yang glanced at Ruby, then continued. "There's another Night Raven. It hit us a few weeks ago."

"I killed the pilot," Ruby added, "but Salem's chief pilot, or whatever—Cinder Fall. She's got it now."

Polina went pale. "Bozhe moi," she whispered in horror. "We destroyed everything at Kosvinsky…but Ambrosius…he kept a copy of the blueprints. He must have. He reverse engineered it." She massaged her temples. "If he built a second Night Raven…then he may have built more. How good is this Cinder Fall?"

"Much as I hate to admit it," Ruby said, "she's pretty damn good."

"Then, my friends, we are in desperate trouble. I know Salem still has nuclear weapons. There were entire stockpiles that survived the Third War. She recovered them. I have seen them." She took their shoulders. "You must go, now. Inform Arashikaze. She must know."

Ruby was about to open her mouth to tell Polina about the court-martial, but decided against it. It would do the older woman no good to hear it. It was strange to see fear in the dark eyes, but it was there. "We will. We're headed back to the States tonight, but I'll try and contact her right now."

"You must." Polina then blinked. "Wait, before you go…in the drawer there. I nearly forgot. Open it." Ruby, mystified, did so. When she pulled the drawer open, there was Summer Rose's patch. She whirled on Polina. "What the—how?"

Polina smiled again. "When I left the hangar at Silac, I still had the patch in my hand. I did not realize it. I was still holding it when the explosion threw me backwards; the doctors told me that I was still holding it when they found me. I kept it…for the daughters of the woman who saved my life." She reached over with her long arms, took the patch, and pressed it into Ruby's hands. "I will always hold Summer Rose in my heart. I no longer need a patch to remember her by. I think you need it more." She nodded to Yang. "Both of you. There are trials ahead, my friends…but you will be enough to face them."

Ruby traced the rose with her fingers. "Funny you should say that," she whispered.

"Now go. And thank you—thank you for listening to an old woman who was silent for too long." Polina grabbed them and kissed them both on both cheeks.