Reign of Steel

by MahinaFable

In a world threatened by Grimm of titanic scale, mankind designed enormous war machines to face them head-on: the infinitely modular Armored Cores! All his life, Jaune Arc wanted to follow in the footsteps of his father, the legendary pilot of the first Armored Core. When tragedy strikes, will he be able to live up to his family's legacy, and defend the people of Vale?

5. The Hidden Beast

Author's Note: *Drags soapbox over* Buckle up, folks, it's a Mahina Rant.

"Forced," huh?

Just goin' down a checklist to make poor ol' Gil Arc look bad.

Some reviewers are so focused on whether or not I'm being fair to an imaginary predatory man - who I made up! - that they actively disregard whatever literary developments I may explore pertaining to the effects of such a figure on, say, the women preyed upon, the children, legitimate or otherwise, who have to deal with what this means for their relationship to the man, the wife whose trust he shattered, or the society that built him up as a heroic example for their nation.

That's the main drive of Jaune's personal character arc! Going from the uncritical hero worship that had him reluctantly giving up on his dream because his father guilt tripped him, to growing into the sort of man who does what he thinks is right. Not only becoming his own man but resolving to become a better man, with the help of his friends and mentors. Pyrrha starts to learn what family really means. Ozpin has to make yet another hard choice when it comes to what to do about what is basically one of Vale's biggest foundational heroes. There are so many subplots for which Gil Arc's actions were the catalyst. This may surprise you, but I have reasons for writing what I write!

Then there's this gem from reader MT's Soulless6, who says "Not going to lie this Gil Arc situation feels rather forced to me and the 'He's was a great man but was actually a

creep and bastard' is extremely dated, is it really so hard to write fathers as genuinely good people?"

Extremely dated? Really? With Activision-Blizzard in the news, right now, for widespread abuse of female employees, especially from an executive with the 'Cosby Suite' at BlizzCon? What about the sheer number of actresses, including some very famous names, who had been harassed and coerced by the late and unlamented arch-creep Harvey Weinstein? Or, ooh, I know, what about the predatory men that have come from Rooster Teeth, the company that makes RWBY in the first place? You know, like Peter Port's original Voice Actor, that creepy bastard?

But you know what? You're right, Soulless6. Predatory men abusing their power and influence is dated. You know what isn't? Those men being called to account to reckon with the consequences of their behavior. That's that fresh goodness. So buckle up, boys, because this chapter comes with a complimentary pitcher of fresh-squeezed Predatory Men Facing Consequences Juice. The first flavor served up is Loss of Familial Respect and Trust.

Drink up. It's zesty!

Oh, and I bit the bullet and made SpiritWaker95, Archivist of Nyx on , the official beta reader for this story. He'd been doing it unofficially anyway, with me bouncing ideas off of the poor guy, but the last couple of chapters, I really made use of his perspective, so he gets credit for his contributions.

Right. On to the story. Doubt anyone reads this note anyway…

[/]

Jaune hesitated for a moment before knocking on her door.

"Coming!"

The door soon opened, revealing Pyrrha Nikos, wearing a set of pajamas with her red hair undone from her braid, falling around her shoulders in wet curls. "Hello, again," she greeted him cheerfully. "What can I do for you?"

"Hey, Pyrrha. Have you got a moment to talk? It's about our father."

The smile swiftly faded from her face. "Of course. Please, come in."

Like Jaune, Pyrrha had been assigned a small, single-room apartment, which had a kitchenette, small bathroom, and a combined living and sleeping area, which Pyrrha had separated with standing partitions that depicted the rounded mountain tops of Mistral. Her apartment was sparsely decorated, though she did, at least, have a few chairs around, most likely for when Ruby and Yang came to see her. He sank into one of her chairs and rubbed his eyes, preparing for what promised to be merely the first of many awkward or difficult conversations.

"Would you like something to drink?" Pyrrha asked him from the kitchenette.

"No thank you, I'm fine," he said. Well, whatever else his mother might have to say about Pyrrha and her origins, she wouldn't be able to fault her manners, at least. She returned, setting a pitcher of water, and two glasses, on the table between them, filling them both and taking one for herself. She took a sip, then sat in another chair, fixing him with her emerald gaze.

"So, what's on your mind?" she asked.

Jaune hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out where to begin. Ultimately, he decided to be direct. "Our father has woken up in the hospital. He'll still be there for a while - they're going to put in a pacemaker - but we need to discuss what we're going to do moving forward. Do you still want to come forward?"

Pyrrha nodded. "I...I have to at least give him the chance. Whatever else, at least he'll know. Do you...do you think I'm being selfish?"

He sighed. "Maybe? But not like, you know, a bad selfish," he hurried to say as he saw his new sister's expression fall. "It's like...if you were starving to death, no one would blame you for eating all the pizza, right? Here, it's like you're emotionally starving. It's going to be rough going for a while, sure, but it's also obvious that you need closure, one way or another."

"One way or another," she echoed. "How do you...think they'll react to me?"

Jaune ran a hand through his hair, a trait unknowingly inherited from his father. "Well, good news is, with the pacemaker, it won't give Dad a second heart attack," he joked weakly. "My mother...yeah, this is going to hurt her. Truth be told, I don't know how she's going to react. I never even imagined anything like this could happen. For our sisters, well, we have a lot of sisters. One more now," he rolled his eyes ruefully.

"I'm sorry!"

"Don't worry about it," he waved her off. "Viridian's probably going to go straight to the legal implications. Saphron is probably going to try to ease the tension with some outrageously inappropriate comments that'll do more harm than good - that's just how she is. Cerulea's probably going to hyperfixate on the science of the DNA evidence, and will probably suggest getting one more between you and Dad to make absolutely certain. Rouge will probably be crying the whole time. Noir kind of hero worships me, so if I say you're our sister, that will be enough for her. I honestly have no idea how Lamera is going to react, so just be ready for anything. She can be pretty volatile sometimes, or she might be completely placid. Finally, little Violet's the closest to Mom, so she's probably going to take it the hardest."

"That's so many sisters," Pyrrha wondered.

Jaune shook his head. He could tell that she wanted to know everything about them, more than he could possibly say before he had to go visit his parents in the hospital. But more than that, he could see, writ plain in her expression, her anxiety and hope. He stood up, walked over to her, then put his hand on her shoulder. "I can't promise that they will accept you," he told her. "But what I can promise you is that, no matter how everyone else reacts, I will be your family. You won't be alone, I swear."

She stared up at him, her large green eyes welling with tears before she hopped to her feet and pulled him into a tight embrace. "I really lucked out with you," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Yep. So just remember that the next time you decide to cheat and bring your Karasawa into the sims."

Pyrrha pulled back, fixing him with a look of mock outrage. "It's not cheating!"

"You have the Super Murder Gun 9000!"

"What is it you gamers say? 'Get good, noob?'"

"Oof," he staggered back, clutching his chest dramatically. "Right in the soul, sis."

"Then get better at dodging," she deadpanned. While her tone was dry, her smile was brilliant. "Jaune...thank you."

He shrugged. "There's no need for thanks among family." Jaune made his way to the door, then paused before going through. "I really do have the best sisters in the world, you know. All eight of them."

And then he was gone.

[/]

Gil Arc was glad to be alive. He was stuck in a damn hospital bed, with far too many tubes in far too many places, but he was alive and cognizant. Of course, Isabelle had fussed over him - he'd guessed that she had scarcely refused to leave since he'd dropped, a guess that his many, many daughters had been all too happy to confirm. They'd had to rotate their visits, of course, the sheer number of his daughters threatening to overwhelm him. Still, he had been able to see each and every one, from stoic Viridian all the way to demure little Violet. They were all fine women and girls, and he was proud of each one of them. Even Saphron was on her way, making the long crossing from Argus with her wife, and he'd been able to speak to her over the Scroll.

Night had begun to fall, the time when his wife told him that their son was able to visit. She hadn't been happy, exactly, that Jaune had taken up Crocea Mors in his stead, but he'd been able to convince her that, between the good he could do for the city and the good that it was doing for him personally, it would be too much trouble than it was worth to try and fight whatever contract the boy had signed with Ozpin. Apparently, Jaune had struck up something of a friendship with Taiyang and his family, and Isabelle was excited to report that their boy had been spending a great deal of time with the younger daughter.

Well, good on the boy. Summer Rose had been quite the looker back in the day - still was, really - and from the looks of it, the younger daughter, the weird nerd girl, would grow up looking a great deal like her mother. Hell, if he was even fifteen years younger, he would have given serious consideration to chasing after the older daughter, the blonde one. What a body that girl had! Absolutely made for sin. Still, while the spirit was willing, the flesh was not, especially with his bum ticker. Just another legacy to hand down to his only son, he supposed. Gil resolved to keep from prying into the boy's affairs. After all, a gentleman knew to be discreet in such matters.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the boy himself arrived. Despite what he had said to Isabelle, Gil had been worried about Jaune taking up the fight, but seeing him there...the boy stood tall, wearing one of the familiar Beacon flightsuits, in the Arc white and yellow. His back was straighter, shoulders back, the boy having finally stopped slouching. His gaze seemed sharper, more focused.

Purpose. His boy had finally found a purpose.

Jaune hugged his mother, then reached over and ruffled Violet's hair, which the girl kept dyed her trademark indigo color. Despite being younger than Jaune, Violet was almost as tall - all of the Arc children had inherited his height, and they sprung up like weeds, especially the girls. Then his son turned to him, sitting down heavily in the chair next to his hospital bed..

"Hey, Dad."

He sounded more subdued, restrained than normal. Gil couldn't blame the boy, really. Necessary or not, his dream or not, Gil had sent his son into live combat against the Grimm.

Gil smiled at his son. "When I went under, I sent a boy to hold the line against the Grimm. I wake up, and now I see a man before me. I'm proud of you, son."

Once more, Jaune's smile was more wan, less enthused than what he had come to expect from his puppy-like son. "Thanks, Dad. You're looking better."

"I was dying the last time you saw me," Gil deadpanned.

"Well then. I'm not wrong, am I?"

"No," he chuckled. "I suppose you aren't. Well, this is ironic, isn't it? I guess now it's you who has the stories to share, eh?" He laid his head back on the pillow.

"Yeah, Dad. I guess I do."

"Well, why don't you start with your first mission? Your mother obviously let me know you were fine, but I bet you've got a bit more to say."

Jaune shrugged. "It turned out to be a herd of Armadons coming from the forest. I boost-hopped and circle-strafed, harassing them with the rifle to keep them from attacking the city. When one tried to break out, I stun-rushed into the Climhazard. I took out two of them before Captain Xiao Long arrived on the scene with his daughters. When they showed up, and he realized that I wasn't you, he ordered me to stand back. After that, Ruby and Yang pretty much cleaned house, and that was that."

"What?" Violet interrupted from across the room. "You mean you barely did anything?"

"Hey!" Jaune was a little defensive. "I took out two of them…"

"Yeah, and then sat back to let girls do the rest."

"How many Grimm have you killed?"

"I bet I'd kill them all if I was an AC pilot!"

"Then go to pilot school, and show me up yourself, you brat," Jaune shot back, though not without fondness.

"Maybe I will, you butt! Miss Summer is an AC pilot and a mother, and she's fabulous!"

Jaune chuckled. "Yeah, she is."

"You met Summer Rose?" Gil interrupted the sibling byplay, addressing the question to his youngest daughter.

"Yup! She came by to drop off her AC at our hangar. She's looking out for Grimm now while, you know…" the girl's expression fell for a moment before perking back up. "But her AC is so cool! It's all pretty and cool, not all clunky and junky like yours, Dad."

"Nice," he muttered, shaking his head. "Did...did Miss Summer stay long? What did you talk about?"

"Oh, it was mostly about storing her machine until her family can buy land of their own to build a house with a hangar," Isabelle spoke up. "It makes sense, if the whole family are pilots. I asked her how she dealt with her children becoming pilots, which she honestly responded with 'Not well.' What lovely daughters she has. Of course," she said, her tone teasing, "Jaune's getting quite friendly with the little red one." Violet tittered at that, causing Jaune to stick his tongue out at his little sister. "Oh, and I made sure to thank her for her and her husband looking out for our boy."

"And that was it? Nothing else?" Gil pressed.

Isabelle was a bit taken aback. "No? It was just a brief chat with a charming young woman. Why?"

Summer Rose should know better than to go around bringing up things best left forgotten, but...the idea of her making friends with his wife, speaking to his children made him nervous. If she was setting up to be his replacement, then he'd have to make sure to speak with her - alone - and impress upon her that it would be better for everyone if she kept her mouth shut.

"It's nothing," he assured his wife. "It's just that there are some things going on with Beacon that we don't want to have publicized. Nothing too serious, we just want to make sure we don't start a panic. Right, Jaune?"

He met his son's gaze, and for a moment, he didn't recognize him at all. It was uncanny, seeing his own eyes boring into him with unnerving intensity. It was a piercing, searching gaze, and it appeared utterly foreign on the face of his own teenage son. It was only there for a moment, but then it was gone, replaced with a more familiar expression of awkward exasperation.

"Speaking of that, we need to talk, Dad. Why haven't you upgraded Crocea Mors in fifty years?!"

Was that what was bothering the boy?

"I'll have you know that Crocea Mors is a work of art, boy!"

"If by that, you mean it should be in a museum somewhere, then sure," he shot back.

"Jaune!" Isabelle rebuked their son. "That's still your father you're speaking to. Show him the respect that he's due."

Jaune sighed. "Okay, fine. Respectfully, sir, why have you not upgraded your Armored Core since it was built, sir?"

Gil held up a hand to keep Isabelle from tugging the boy's ear. "It's all right, Izzy. He's probably just cranky at seeing the girls his age with the fancy new models," he chuckled. "Well, Jaune, the reason I never upgraded Crocea Mors is because I never needed to. There's not a Grimm I ever fought that I couldn't beat in that machine."

"Maybe, but have you ever taken it into a sim?"

"Of course I have. Walking trainees through taking out different forms of Grimm, setting the example and all that."

"So you've never taken it into a duel?"

The old man scoffed. "Young people and your dueling. Our job is to kill the Grimm, not stroke our egos."

Jaune's eyes narrowed into a squint."First of all, you could have killed Grimm quicker, more efficiently with upgrade. And secondly, Crocea Mors is completely outclassed in a fight with another Armored Core!"

"Why would you need to practice fighting against another Armored Core?" Isabelle asked, confused.

"That's enough," Gil told his son. It wasn't a suggestion, but an order. Isabelle, however, wasn't dissuaded.

"Gil? Why would they have Jaune training to fight other Armored Cores?"

The veteran pilot glared at his son, who gazed steadily back at him. Where had this defiance come from? What had gotten into his boy? Turning away from Jaune, Gil did his best to reassure his wife. "It's nothing. Just some simulated dueling arena that the youngsters compete in, bragging rights and all that."

"But why -"

"It's nothing," he asserted. He sighed. "Look, this is just one of those times when you're just going to have to trust me."

Isabelle looked away, distraught. "I -"

"You've trusted me for all these years, and I've never led us astray. I'll make sure our boy is safe, I promise. And as you know - "

"An Arc never goes back on his word," his wife and daughter finished for him, with fond familiarity. But for some reason, Jaune looked away, appearing almost sick.

"I'll talk to you later, Dad," he said, standing.

"Jaune?" Isabelle looked at her son, confused at his sudden shift in demeanor.

"I've got a lot to do to catch up to the rest of my Lance, and we start early." Jaune hugged his mother and ruffled Violet's hair again. "Be good for Mom and Dad, okay?"

"I can only promise to try," the girl responded, with a comical degree of seriousness.

"Fair enough." Jaune looked back at his father one last time. "I'll be back tomorrow. There is a lot we need to discuss."

"You're right about that," replied Gil, unnerved by that piercing blue gaze. When had he ever had to fight for control over a conversation with one of his own children? "I'll make sure we can speak in private, so we don't worry your mother."

Jaune looked for a moment at his mother, with some unidentifiable expression. What was happening here? "Sure," he finally said, turning and walking to the door. "Have a good night, everyone."

Gil watched his son leave, mystified at the changes that had come over his boy. What happened to the boy who used to hang on his every word? How was it that the boy who used to have to occasionally be ushered away to give his father some space was now cutting a visit short of his own volition?

What happened to his son?

[/]

"But seriously, why a mine?"

Adam Taurus pinched the bridge of his nose as his subordinate questioned his plan - again. The Faunus who had volunteered to travel to Vale were the boldest of their people, but it would have been nicer if Princess Blake had stuck around after the original plan went to hell. At least she was capable of understanding his vision. She had been horrified by it, but at least she'd understood it.

Adam was a lean, tall and lanky young man in his mid-twenties, with bloodred hair, two bull horns - they made acquiring a helmet quite difficult - and shockingly blue eyes. With his dashing good looks, persuasive charisma, and powerful Armored Core, he had been the natural choice of leader for Menagerie's White Fang faction. He had volunteered to go to Atlas, attend pilot school, and learn all he could from its AC program before absconding with his own Armored Core. Shortly before he was set to desert, he'd been informed of the development of mass-produced Armored Cores in Vale, the implications of which were critical for the establishment of a safe and prosperous Menagerie. So important was that tech that even the Queen herself had finally greenlit his mission, and allowed her only daughter, the Princess Blake, to learn from him personally. And so Adam had disappeared, taking his Armored Core, Wilt, with him.

And then it had all gone to hell, culminating in Mountain fucking Glenn. How he wished he'd never set eyes on the ruins of that failed city. He would either succeed, and see Menagerie reborn, or he would fail and perish, and the dreams of his homeland would die with him.

The die was cast, the ram had touched the wall, and with the blood of Valean AC pilots on his hands, Adam Taurus knew that there was no going back.

He just wished that the Princess could have understood his new plan, seen the necessity of sacrifice.

A part of him believed that, if he could have had the entirety of his plan explained to him, General Ironwood would have understood. After all, he had been the one to teach him the ruthless calculus of war - and when the Grimm were involved, every moment spent alive was one of the spoils of war. He understood what it meant to bear the terrible burden of a duty that could not be foresworn, even as the heart broke under its weight. His daughter, on the other hand…

He tried hard not to think of ice blue eyes, her upturned nose crinkling with sardonic amusement as she made a dry remark.

Ah, Winter...

Learning from General Ironwood had been part of the plan. An extended romantic relationship with his oldest daughter, Winter Schnee, had not. Leaving her behind had made his desertion much more difficult than it had to be. No doubt, she had taken it, well, rather more personally than he would have liked. Maybe, just maybe, she would be able to see past her own heartache, to the international realpolitik that drove his actions, no matter how cruel, or how heartless.

No, not even he could convince himself of that. Especially since he'd led her to believe he was on the verge of proposing marriage to her, and deserted immediately after deflowering her. Winter would be baying for his blood.

With a grimace, Adam hardened his scarred-over heart once more and returned to the matter at hand.

Wilt was, like himself, tall and lean, a bipedal Armored Core built with angular parts, all painted in glossy black, with crimson accents. It was equipped with the strongest plasma blade on the market. Well, the strongest production plasma blade on the market - Winter's Moonlight had him beat, and they both knew it, but that wasn't a reasonable comparison - Moonlight was the only known plasma blade ever crafted by Karasawa, and much like the man's plasma rifles, it was absurdly powerful.

Wilt's right arm bore a short range shotgun, while mounted to its back was its newest, most dangerous weapon. When deployed, two tri-armed metal barrels extended well past the head, and together, they generated an enormous blast of superheated plasma. It was hell on the generator, had a long recharge time, and could only fire a few bursts before needing to be disassembled and its internals recalibrated, but it was one of the single strongest weapons that could be fired from an AC, an experimental prototype that he had "liberated" on his way out of Atlas.

He'd already deserted Atlas, what was a little larceny? What were they going to do, hang him twice?

It was that plasma cannon that he deployed against the entrance of the mine. Lightning crackled between the two barrels, and the magnetic field expanded to draw in the blood-red plasma, a growing ball of superheated, molten death that then fired out into the mining shaft. Weeping bloody tears of molten stone sealed the entrance, consigning any workers who may have survived deeper underground to a long, slow death of asphyxiation, if they were unable to blast their way out.

"It's harsh," Adam explained, for the umpteenth time, to his subordinates, who had gathered behind him, standing amidst the wreckage of the mine's defenders. A few armored personnel carriers, a tank, only there to provide covering fire for fleeing miners if the Grimm attacked before they too fled, to allow ACs to reclaim the mine. It was nothing that a group of Armored Cores, even mass-produced units, couldn't handle with ease. The only units to have escaped were a pair of helicopters, and Adam wanted them to report what he had done.

"The Kingdoms only respect blood, so bleed them we shall. Their vaunted city-states can't function without mines, farms, maritime shipping ports, railways...we hit them where it hurts, where it makes them bleed. They will be forced - forced! - to deploy Armored Cores to the countryside, leaving their city's defenses strained. Negotiation is a matter of judging the strength of leverage, and we cannot negotiate favorably while they are strong and we are weak. So we must make them weak," he explained, unconsciously quoting Ironwood. "They cannot project strength everywhere at once, so when the time is right, we will hit the city, and give them such blood that they will have no choice but to come to the bargaining table."

It was a sound plan. It may even have worked. But Adam had no intention of merely giving Vale a bloody nose. The General had taught him to never leave a wounded enemy at his back. No, Adam would purge the city and Kingdom of Vale, rip it up root and stem, and leave a vacuum for the rising new Kingdom of Menagerie to fill. Queen Kali didn't know of that - she'd likely have his head for it after he succeeded, in the literal sense of the phrase - but by that time, it would be a moot point. After all, he was the perfect deniable asset, what with his Atlas cover story and his being a well-known student of General Ironwood and a...suitor to the lovely Winter. The odds that Vacuo and Mistral believed that a warrior of his caliber came from Menagerie over Atlas were remote, to say the least.

So, he would pave the way for the rebirth of the Faunus homeland, concentrating all the sin and guilt and murder of nation-building into his own hands, leaving Menagerie free and pure upon his just execution. The weight of such an awesome and terrible duty was a harsh burden to bear, weighing upon his heart and his very soul, but it was one that he would uphold with all the dignity befitting a proud soldier.

Just as the General had taught him.

[/]

Beacon's newest recruit tried to keep his chin up as he went about his business, but it was difficult. For Jaune, his first visit with his father was...distressing. With what he knew about Pyrrha and her origins, the interactions between his parents took on new, deeply unpleasant connotations. Before, the whole family knew not to pry into what was going on at Beacon, as its operations were highly classified. Now, Jaune couldn't help but dwell on his father's concern, almost panic, over his mother and youngest sister meeting and speaking to Summer Rose without him there.

It could have been routine operational concerns...but anyone who spent any amount of time with Summer Rose could tell that she was professional and competent, and his father would have had to have known that. No, Jaune's gut was telling him that his father was hiding things from his family, something involving Summer herself, and the implications of that made said gut plummet to his boots.

What if Ceres Nikos wasn't the only one?

Jaune's parents had had an arranged marriage, as was fairly normal a couple generations back. It could be possible that, contrary to what Jaune had always believed, his parents had never actually formed a true love connection - or at least, his father hadn't - and his father had simply been overwhelmed with passionate love for Ceres.

A passionate love between an eighteen-year old rookie pilot and her mid-forties instructor and commanding officer...yeah, try as he might, there was no way for Jaune to try to spin that well. And if Ceres really wasn't the only beautiful female pilot that his father had had an affair with, then it somehow made the whole thing even worse.

Then there were the other interactions between his parents. He'd never noticed it before, but when it came to matters of absolute substance, Gil Arc called the shots. His father had utterly shut down his mother's concerns over the enemy AC issue, demanding that she place absolute trust in his judgement and using their long history together as a shield. Gil Arc never addressed her concerns, not really, not like a fellow adult and parent, and in that moment, she was a subordinate to her husband, not an equal partner.

How had he never seen that before? Jaune couldn't ever imagine giving such a condescending shut-down to Ruby Rose, for example. And was that really the sort of marriage that he wanted his sisters emulating? Especially Violet, who was so close to their mother and so impressionable. He couldn't help but contrast what he'd seen in that hospital room with the brief disagreement that he'd witnessed between the Captain and his wife in the hangar, his first night at Beacon.

Taiyang Xiao Long had addressed his wife's concerns, explaining his reasoning in an attempt to persuade her. He certainly didn't command her to drop the issue; there was a deep and fundamental respect there, a respect that his own father hadn't shown to his mother.

Jaune was deeply troubled. If something so foundational to his entire worldview as his parents' relationship turned out to be so…different, so wrong from how he'd always thought of it, how could he trust that he could know anything, about anything?

During one of his excursions into Vale proper, Jaune had - besides stocking up on seasoning and decent-tasting sports drinks - gone to the city's library, and checked out every book on ethics that he could get his hands on. For the next few days, he was rarely seen without one book or another, reading deeply whenever he could get a spare moment.

The Captain had actually asked him about it, wondering what had him researching so feverishly.

"I need to know that I can tell right from wrong," Jaune had said.

After a moment, Taiyang had nodded. "Well, from where I'm standing, asking that question means that you're at least on the right track."

It hadn't all been heart-wrenching soul searching, though. He'd greatly enjoyed his time in the simulators, especially when his sister and friends pulled him into 'unscheduled simulator exercises,' which mainly consisted of horsing around with virtual giant robots. He'd had a grand time thrashing his Lancemates when they piloted Crocea Mors, his peers universally expressing shock and dismay at the ancient machine's handling, lack of power, and dated equipment. All of which, of course, the squad could not take lying down, which is how he found himself squaring off against his newfound sister in the sims, Pyrrha piloting a virtual copy of Crocea Mors. The two simulated Armored Cores stood against one another on the main highway going through downtown Vale.

"You know, there's no shame in giving up now," Jaune taunted her over the radio.

He smiled as he heard her laugh, one of her genuine ones that came complete with a snort. "Did you forget what happened the last time we sparred? I seem to recall giving you the beating of a lifetime."

"Oh, you didn't beat me, your Karasawa beat me. Let's see how you do in a fair fight."

"Very well, Jaune. Let us battle with honor."

"Yeah, yeah, and may the dirt taste good when I feed it to you."

Her response was a wry "I see you need some remedial etiquette lessons."

The radio crackled as one of the observers interjected. "Are we sure they're not bangin'?" Cardin asked.

Jaune made a face. "Nora, keep your man on a tighter leash, would you?"

"Ooh, now that's a fun idea!" the energetic girl wondered.

"Your retaliation was swift and overwhelming," deadpanned Cardin. "I approve."

"I don't," replied Ren, his tone sour.

"Are we going to watch a fight or sit around snarking?" Yang cut in, anxious to get to the action. "Get on with it already!"

In response, a five-second countdown started up, the combatants preparing their opening moves. As the countdown ended and the duel began, the duplicate Crocea Mors ACs each boosting into a clockwise circle strafe. Jaune noticed how his sister took note of how he boost-hopped, feathering the boosters instead of having long burns, and how she adjusted to imitate his style, which better fit the limitations of the machine's generator.

Pyrrha was learning as she fought. Jaune couldn't help but grin. She was amazing. Despite his earlier trash-talking, he knew better than to underestimate her. After all, she'd been a pilot for longer than him. He only had one advantage in this fight, that he knew Crocea Mors better than she, and that was an advantage that would swiftly evaporate the longer the fight went on.

The pair circled back and forth, neither one able to get a definitive weapon lock on the other. When Pyrrha zigged, Jaune zagged. When Jaune juked, Pyrrha jived. It was a game of chess played at a hundred miles an hour, with each pilot checking their counterpart.

"Are there gonna be, you know, shots fired in this gunfight or what?" an impatient Cardin broke in.

"You're not much of a sophisticate, are you?" Blake, who seemed constitutionally incapable of refraining from arguing with the man, replied. "This is elegant, graceful, -"

"Fuckin' boring!" the large man interrupted her.

Both pilots ignored the debate that broke out between their Lancemates, entirely focused on the duel at hand.

"It's impressive, what performance you can squeeze out of this old rig," Pyrrha praised him over the radio. "But I know something you don't know."

"Is it a really good falafel recipe?" Jaune asked, hopefully.

"Okay, I know two things you don't know," Pyrrha corrected herself. "The first is a really good falafel recipe, yes."

"Hooray!" Jaune cheered, while subtly course-correcting his AC. "If I beat you, you have to make falafel for the whole Lance for lunch today." He suspected that he knew what Pyrrha was talking about, having seen Yang do it once when her shoulder-mounted linear cannons ran out of shells in a simulated mission, and he knew that if Pyrrha tried it with Crocea Mors, she would be in for a rude surprise. He wanted to be ready to capitalize on that error - there was no guarantee that she would give him another opening.

"Not happening," Pyrrha muttered."Anyways, the other thing you don't know is that you can lighten an AC's loadout, and improve its turning radius, by doing this!"

Jaune gunned it for her in a straight-line charge, while Pyrrha's Crocea Mors...did nothing. Jaune grinned as his guess was correct - she'd tried to detach the radar, and maybe the missile launcher, to give her an advantage in a dogfight. Would've worked on a Gen 3 Armored Core, or even a Gen 2, but for the Gen 1 models, the weapons could only be detached with specialized tools in a hangar.

Pyrrha realized her error just in time to see Jaune bearing down on her.

"Aww, nerts."

Most pilots would have gone for the plasma blade at that point, and indeed, Pyrrha was already shifting her AC to try to protect her Core from an incoming strike. But Jaune wasn't like most pilots, and he had plans for the energy that activating his plasma blade would have expended. Instead, he crashed into her at top speed, both simulator pods rocking and shaking violently from the impact. Jaune's mech-scaled shoulder tackle actually knocked Pyrrha back and over, her Crocea Mors tumbling off of the raised highway. The Armored Core made a rotation and a half, landing horizontally on its back with a ground-shaking thud.

The simulator pod hadn't been programmed with the ability to replicate a tumbling freefall, but it made up for that with the impact of Pyrrha's Armored Core with the ground. The pod lurched forward with an almighty jolt, the force so violent that it almost ripped the pod off of its support struts. Only Pyrrha's helmet and her restraint harness saved her from potentially injuring herself impacting the viewscreen across from her. As it was, her helmet put a nasty crack in the viewscreen, with more spidering out from the circular impact point. Pyrrha shook her head, forcing herself to focus.

Over the radio, she heard the rest of Dragon Lance losing their collective shit, but she disregarded that as unimportant. Her cracked central viewscreen showed only blue sky, while to her right stood an office building and to the left was the support strut holding up the highway from which she'd just been knocked off. This was bad. Armored Cores were never designed to go horizontal like this, and she was hideously vulnerable.

As if to reinforce that last thought, a pair of missiles streaked in, exploding against her Core and making the simulator pod shake once more with the impact of the detonations. Oh, this was bad…

Jaune carefully managed his boosters, slowly levitating down to the ground across from where Pyrrha's Crocea Mors had hit the ground, firing missiles at the prone Core as soon as his FCS confirmed missile lock. That little maneuver on the highway had gone better than he'd hoped it would; he'd been hoping to knock her off-balance and score a couple of uncontested rifle shots, maybe even a plasma blade slash if he pushed his luck. With Pyrrha's AC prone, the match was basically his, assuming that she couldn't get back up - and that he didn't get cocky and get caught by her own plasma blade. As such, he was content to hang back and take potshots at her.

In her own pod, Pyrhha struggled to right her AC. The steady impact of exploding missiles wasn't helping, and her stricken Armored Core was taking even more damage the longer she was stuck in place. She extended her AC's right arm forwards, then used the control stick to try and swing it over to the left side. If she could get her arms into play, she could try to push against the ground and possibly right herself…

Jaune supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised to see Pyrrha's Crocea Mors swing over to its front and begin trying to push itself back upright. She wasn't going to give up, even as he sent rifle bullets thudding into her machine, chipping away at its armor.

Pyrrha tried to activate her boosters to lift into the air and restore verticality, only to be met with a grinding whining sound. The simulation had decided that the two boosters mounted on the AC's back - Crocea Mors only had four, two on the back and two on the rear of the legs - had suffered damage from the impact with the ground, which, well, that was fair, she supposed. Still, she kept the pedals depressed, straining those two leg boosters to get all the lift she could from them. Finally, impossibly, her AC set its feet under itself, and Pyrrha Nikos was back in the fight.

"Back in the fight" didn't mean "in anything approaching good shape," however. Her main boosters were gone, and both legs had taken damage, the right more than the left. Whether that was from the fall or the subsequent missile volleys, she couldn't say, but her mobility was severely crippled, something that Jaune took notice of as he began circling around her and making boost-hopping leaps to shoot at her from above.

Thinking quickly, Pyrrha hightailed it for the concrete support strut under the center of the highway, her machine limping towards it, doing her best to zigzag away from her brother's rifle bullets. She put her back to the strut, extending her rifle forwards. With the structure to her back and the highway above blocking aerial assaults, Jaune could only approach her to attack from the sides or directly in front of her, mitigating some of his maneuverability advantage.

Jaune came zipping in - it's amazing how much faster the old machine seemed when in a crippled version of that same machine - only to peel away from her as she activated her plasma blade and lashed out with it, scoring a couple of hits against his armor with her rifle. Right. Well, this battle had started as a duel, degenerated into a massacre, and had now evolved into a siege. She reminded herself to be patient. Jaune, as talented as he was, was still a rookie, and would be unlikely to resist going in for the kill. He boosted away behind the strut, and Pyrrha shook her head. The only direction he could attack from would be from her right, and sure enough, he came zipping by once more, and once more, she forced him to keep his distance, though only one of her shots hit that time.

Pyrrha was puzzled as Jaune disappeared behind the strut once more. What was he getting at? He was smart enough to realize when something wasn't working. Still, as the adage went, "never interrupt the enemy when he's making a mistake." She also considered that he might be trying to turn her own strategy against her and lure her into making a mistake - another mistake. And with her Armored Core in the state it was, she could not recover from an error as easily as her brother could. He zipped around again, sending a pair of missiles her way on his orbit. She frowned. Without an interception system, and with her mobility shot, she didn't have much of a choice but to eat the damage, which her viewscreen informed her was doing dangerous amounts of damage to her left arm.

When Jaune disappeared behind the strut again, he sent a message to her over the radio. "It's over, Pyrrha." As he re-emerged, he didn't round to attack again, continuing straight on until he was clear of the highway entirely.

"Ha! I'm beat up, but you haven't won yet, Jaune. I'm not going to give up!"

"I know you won't. That's why I'm not giving you the chance. Look up."

With a sinking feeling in her gut, Pyrrha did as he bid her, watching as the highway above her began to collapse.

"I wasn't attacking you," he explained. "I was cutting through the strut."

Now it was Pyrrha's turn to grin in sincere appreciation of her sibling. With no main boosters and damaged legs, she had no chance of escape. "Oh, well done, Jaune!" she praised, even as multiple tons of highway fell onto her.

The simulation actually froze then, as the program was unable to decide how, exactly, to portray the effects of a large section of reinforced highway crashing onto a damaged AC. Pyrrha gave a shrug and entered in the command to end the simulation. Even if the collapse hadn't technically destroyed her Armored Core, which was an open question, whatever shape it would be in afterwards would not be able to continue to fight in any meaningful sense. As such, the result of the simulated duel was officially logged as a concession on her part.

Opening the hatch and crawling out into the cool, refreshing air outside, Pyrrha took a deep breath as she popped off her helmet and checked her reflection in the visor. Thankfully, it didn't appear as though she'd suffered any damage from conking her head, and she made a mental note to remind Yang of that, as the other girl had a bad habit of foregoing her helmet sometimes if she didn't want to muss her hair. The redhaired pilot stretched, loosening muscles made stiff by her jaunt in the pod - the duel, for all the swift brutality of its end, had taken a surprisingly long time, most of which had been the exploratory circling and testing of defenses between them at the beginning.

"Hey, Pyrrha." She turned to see her brother, his own helmet under his arm, sheepishly rubbing the back of the neck. "Sorry if I got a little rough back there."

"It's fine," she assured him. "It certainly took me by surprise, those two maneuvers of yours. Make sure to keep those in your back pocket, in case you ever run into something a little more dangerous than a sim, okay?"

"Yeah, sure thing." Jaune grinned goofily at her, like a giant blonde puppy. "I couldn't believe when you managed to get back up again. I thought it was all over but the shooting!"

"You did very well, Jaune. I was impressed by your restraint in not rushing for the kill...and with your unusual thinking."

Jaune shrugged. "I just got lucky that you gave me that opening on the highway. I'm guessing that that was a one-time thing, though."

Pyrrha's smile became sharper, more predatory. "Yes, Jaune. Yes, it was. We still have another match to go, you and I."

He chuckled. "Maybe, but for today, I won, and that will be good enough."

She canted her head curiously. "Does this mean you don't want me to cook my mother's falafel recipe?"

"I never said that!"

[/]

Emerald Sustrai quietly boarded the Armored Core 'Fevered' as she and her partner prepared to disembark from what had proven to be the longest, most uncomfortable journey of her life. The ship had been a charnel house, its Mistrali crew slaughtered and heaped into a pile in the main cargo bay, leaving long streaks of blood down the halls. The sole person manning the ship had been a very...intense scorpion Faunus, who had peered at them from under a pilfered captain's hat, waving cheerfully as they had set their stolen Armored Cores to lock into holding position.

The man, who had introduced himself as Tyrian, had made a great and elaborate bow, removing his stolen hat as he greeted them like some kind of high-and-mighty courtier instead of a blood-drenched killer in a floating abattoir. Emerald hated him on sight. She especially hated how he referred to them as "The Queen's newest vassals."

Yeah, no. If Cinder thought that she and Merc were going to bow and scrape and serve her every whim, then that problematic hoe had another thing coming. As soon as they got their check, she and Mercury were out of there so fast that the bitch would get whiplash trying to keep up.

Still, the crossing to Sanus was harrowing, to say the least. Not due to any rough seas or weather, but because of the company they kept. Tyrian was far too similar to Mercury for her liking. Normally, whenever someone genuinely scared her, a word to Merc saw that person permanently gone from this world, but they needed the raving Faunus alive, as he was the only one who knew the rendezvous coordinates to meet with Cinder and offload their goods. By same token, Emerald really didn't want Mercury to actually befriend the lunatic. So, she exploited Mercury's paranoid obsession with her - oh gods, she was starting to diagnose him now - and made but the subtlest adjustments to her body language and posture when Tyrian was with them, sending off understated signals of anxiety.

Sure enough, Mercury picked right up on that, and reacted accordingly. And wasn't that just the way of things? Emerald had a lover who was sensitive enough to react to the very slightest of her moods, and he used it in a way that was all terrifying and creepified. Poor Emerald couldn't buy a break. Still, her ploy had had the effect that she'd wanted, and Mercury had kept close to her, only interacting with Tyrian when he absolutely had to in order to keep the ship running. And of course, when they made anchor, they pulled into a small, rocky harbor located centrally in the ass-end of nowhere.

Never mind Vale itself, they couldn't even have put in at one of the small fishing towns that people had dared established, what with an actual city drawing most of the heat from the Grimm. Emerald had even heard that there was supposed to be an island somewhere around there where people were building little towns and villages, but no, precious Cinder had to meet in an absolute MAMFA location - Miles and Miles of Fuck-All.

The trio had disembarked in Armored Cores, the scorpion Faunus piloting his own unit. Emerald hadn't the faintest idea where he'd gotten the damn thing, or how. Actually, scratch that - she was pretty sure that he'd acquired the war machine through main use of indiscriminate violence. Once again, she hushed down the little voice that insisted on reminding her of the man's similarity to her Mercury. And of course, the creepy and disturbing Faunus just had to have a creepy and disturbing Armored Core as well. Its torso was mounted onto four, buglike legs, and the damn thing skittered as it walked. How did they make a giant war mech skitter?! Why would someone design a mech to skitter? Instead of conventional hands gripping weapons, the AC's arms each culminated in a split pair of curved blades, with an emitter for some sort of weapon in the center.

Emerald had no idea what those weapons were meant to be, and wasn't looking to stick around long enough to find out. She did discover that the complicated weapon on the machine's back unfolded into a cannon that fired a high-explosive round, one powerful enough to sink their stolen ship in a single shot. Of course. Like the stinger of a scorpion. Cute.

With their ship destroyed behind them, they really had no choice but to press on to the rendezvous point in their Armored Cores. Not far from the coast was a deep and primordial forest, with great tall trees that dwarfed even their mechs. Tyrian took the lead, and the strange devices on the end of his mech's arms were revealed to be a pair of extended violet plasma blades. He cast about with gleeful abandon, flash-searing a path through the ancient trees.

Well, if nothing else, at least they had a clear shot at his back if he tried anything. Still, moving into the dark forest did nothing to set Emerald's mind at ease. The trio stomped their way through the forest for a good while - she estimated it to be about an hour, maybe two, but it was hard to be sure. Eventually, they reached a large clearing, where yet another strange Armored Core was waiting for them. It was bipedal, but impossibly spindly, almost insectoid in its appearance, with a wasp-waist that looked too thin to possibly support the weight of the torso. She had no idea what kind of material made its armor, but it was pitch-black and almost oily in its appearance, the shimmering blackness interrupted only with protruding components of gleaming steel. Oddly enough, the black armor seemed to ripple around the protrusions, like flesh around a stab wound. At least the bizarre machine didn't bear any obvious weapons.

And of course, waiting at the feet of the machine, and clad in an obnoxiously-tight red dress, stood Cinder Fall. With her hip canted, arms folded under her annoyingly-perfect bosom, and a bored expression on her face, Cinder Fall looked more like she was disdainfully waiting for a bouncer to let her into an exclusive nightclub, instead of meeting with known criminals and renegades to carry out an illicit transaction.

The three newly-arrived Armored Cores came to a halt, and Em sighed before unlatching her harness. She grabbed a rolled up rope ladder before popping the hatch and scrabbling out onto the Core. After affixing an end to the edge of the Core, she unrolled the rope ladder letting it spill down to the forest floor. She descended down to the ground, waiting to make sure that Mercury was ready to take the lead before following behind him to speak with Cinder.

"Hmm...I see you were successful. Good work," she purred. Among the many, many reasons why Emerald hated Cinder Fall, her voice was one of them. More specifically, it was how, despite intellectually understanding that Emmy loathed Cinder, her sultry, contemptuously sensual tone of voice could instantly set her heart racing. Maybe if she weren't the complete embodiment of absolute evil, Emerald might have tried to convince Mercury to attempt to seduce Cinder for a night of shared fun, but as it was, every instinct she had was screaming at her to get away from the amber-eyed beauty.

"Yeah, two Armored Cores, fresh from Haven, just as ordered," Emerald answered, keeping her nervousness - or other feelings - out of her voice. "So, if you can just fork over the cash, we'll be on our way…"

"Oh, Mercury," Cinder tsked and shook her head. "You didn't tell her, did you?"

An icy chill began to spread through her. "Mercury?" she asked, hating the way her voice wavered as she did so. "What is she talking about?"

"I've got it all planned out," he said, his hands open and wide in an attempt at a placating gesture. "We're just going to be on retainer for a little while."

"Mercury!"

"Hey," he said, slowly taking her hands. "It'll be okay," he tried to soothe her. "Cinder's boss is offering something more valuable than mere money."

"What -"

"Shh, it's -"

"Don't shush me!" Emerald pulled her hands back from him. "We're supposed to be a team, Mercury!"

"We are a team!"

She crossed her arms, looking away from him. "It doesn't feel like it. You've been going off on your own, making deals without me knowing, agreeing to things without even asking me!" Her voice rose with each transgression she listed.

"I know," Mercury agreed, gently putting his hands on her shoulders. "I know, babe. But this was a special opportunity; I was offered something too good to pass up."

"And what's that?" she spat out, bitter.

Mercury smiled warmly down at her. "A world where no one will ever threaten you again."

Oh gods, it was worse than she thought. Not only was his mental state deteriorating, but his criminal contacts had already noticed and exploited it. "That isn't possible," she said, trying to get her lover to see how his new client couldn't possibly hold up their end of the deal.

"Nothing is beyond the power of The Queen," Tyrian intoned, for once solemn and deadly serious as he made some sort of genuflecting religious gesture.

"Oh, please tell me that you aren't this 'Queen' that he keeps going on about," Emerald remarked to Cinder.

Before the other woman could answer, Tyrian threw his head back in a great peal of laughter, causing Cinder to glare at him. Emerald took note of that - dissension in the ranks, perhaps? "Oh, little Cindy here is but a mere servant of the Queen, as are we all," the scorpion Faunus mocked in a sing-song tone. "One of many, replaceable. And only time will tell if she will Cindy Stand...or Cindy Fall," he giggled at his own awful joke.

Oh gods, the homicidal madman enjoyed bad puns. She was getting Merc out of here, and once they got to Vale, she'd get him checked into a proper mental health facility. She didn't care if she had to shake her little ass for every man in Vale, and half the women, if it got him whatever chemicals he needed to pull his silver head back from la-la-land. Then, once he was sane enough to understand what was going on, Emerald was going to murder him for putting her through this. He'd better not say a goddamn word about whatever she wanted for the rest of their natural lives. She could almost hear it.

But why a dog, Emmy? Because I want one. Remember the Haven trip?

But Emmy, I haven't murdered anyone in months! Tough. Remember that little jaunt on the ship with the crazy-ass scorpion guy?

Are we really parent material, Emmy? We literally can't do any worse than ours. Besides, we had to trounce though the forest with Stabs McGillicuddy and Cinder the Wonder Skank because you made a deal without me. So start practicing diaper changes, mister!

"Of course, the deal Mercury made is binding...for him at least," said Cinder, after she had glared at her associate for what she must have felt to be an appropriate length of time. "You, of course, are free to leave, if you so wish. But you'll have to do so on foot, of course, and without your...accomplice." Once again, Emerald marveled at how Cinder's voice made her simultaneously wish to take a bath and wish that that bath had Cinder in it too.

Still, she was in a bad situation. She could turn and go, which all of her thief's intuition had been screaming at her to do from the get-go...but she would be isolated, on foot, in the middle of nowhere. She didn't even know which direction to turn to get to Vale.

But more important than even that rather pressing concern was the fact that, looking at Mercury standing between Cinder and Tyrian, with his too-wide smile and the same sick light burning behind his eyes that she saw in the other two, Emerald knew that she couldn't get Mercury out with her, not tonight. And for better or worse, for richer or poorer, she and Mercury were a team, even when he forgot how that was supposed to work.

"All right, I'm in," she said, trying not to wince as Mercury embraced her.

She would play along, for now. But when the time came, she would rip her Mercury free of these freaks, and burn them to the ground for daring to toy with her man.

"Oh, I'm so glad you saw fit to join us," Cinder sneered, a faux-approval that was positively dripping with more condescension and contempt than Emerald ever thought possible to fit in a human voice. "Now that we've got whatever this," she gestured dismissively towards them with her hand, "is sorted out, we can make for my new...command center."

"Command center?" Emerald echoed, incredulous. "What, did you build a secret underground lair under a mountain too?"

The silence that met her question troubled her.

"What, you did build a secret underground lair?!"

"Oh, you'll be surprised at what mighty gifts the Queen can bestow upon her servants," Tyrian replied. "Very surprised indeed."

[/]

"Hi, Jaune! I couldn't help but notice your everything. We should go on a date!" Ruby scowled at her reflection in a mirror. "No, that's stupid. Try again. Okay." She practiced what she hoped was a charming smile. "Hi, Jaune! I saw how you beat Pyrrha in the sim duel. You're really clever! And awesome! So can I pretty please reserve all of your smooches for myself?" Her face fell as she realized how odd that sounded. "Ugh!" the girl tossed her hands in the air, gesticulating in her teenage despair. "Everyone says to just be yourself, but what if your self is a weirdo?! It's not like I can just go up to Jaune and say, 'Hey, Jaune! Gimme dat butt!"

Of course, because the world hated her and wanted her to suffer, the beginning of her lamentation over the feasibility of demanding Jaune's derriere marked the exact same time that her sister entered the family apartment with Pyrrha in tow, both girls carrying grocery bags full of falafel ingredients. Ruby's heart stopped, then sank to her toes as she saw both older girls share a look, a predatory grin slowly spreading across Yang's face.

"Should I be concerned regarding your intentions for my brother's rear?" Pyrrha asked, emerald eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Oh nooooo," Ruby quietly moaned, sinking to the floor in abject horror and embarrassment.

Yang sighed, put her groceries on the counter, then walked over and reached down to pick her little sister up off the floor. "It's okay, Ruby. I promise I won't tease you anymore about your crush for at least six months."

"Really?"

"Really. You need to be confident to nab your man, and you can't do that if you're constantly imploding." She led Ruby over to the couch. "C'mon. Tell Big Sis how she can help."

"I'll just get started on lunch," Pyrrha said, stepping into the kitchen to allow the sisters some privacy.

Ruby watched her go. "Is she really making falafel for everyone?"

"I know, right? Gotta love a gal who can cook."

She canted her head curiously at her older sister. "But you're terrible at cooking."

"I know." Yang grinned. "That's why I've gotta love a gal who can cook. Otherwise, I'll be living off of takeout and cup noodles for life." She shook her head. "Anyways, I'm guessing you're working up the nerve to ask out our resident…" Yang paused as a thought occurred to her. "What do you call a male ballerina, anyway? A ballerino?"

Ruby sighed. "I know what you, and Dad, and Mom, and pretty much anyone everywhere has said about it: be yourself. But Yang, I'm…"

"You're what? My super-smart, super awesome baby sister?"

"Yang...I'm weird. You know I am…"

Then it was Yang's turn to sigh. "Okay, Rubes. Maybe you're an odd little cookie. But you're also a sweet little cookie."

"Yaaaaang…" Ruby groaned. Her sister lightly punched her in the arm.

"Oh shaddup, I'm being serious here. You're weird. Sure. Okay. But that also makes you unique. There is no one in all the world like Ruby Rose, and Ruby Rose is pretty damn cool. You stand out, Rubes. Always have, always will, and that means that people are going to remember you. I mean, you and Twinkletoes have been spending a lot of times getting his junky Core closer to good, right?"

"Well...yeah…"

"So that's a lot of time exposed to high-octane Ruby-ness, right? Did he seem like he was annoyed or bothered to be spending that much time around you?"

Ruby thought back to her time with Jaune, as she explained the basics of AC design and upgrades to him. He hadn't seemed annoyed with her. If anything, they'd had fun, cracking jokes and sometimes coming up with silly, over-the-top justifications for the most outrageous features or weapons that they could think to put on an Armored Core. But...she'd never been good at reading people. Like, at all. So what if she just thought that he was having fun with her?

"I mean...he could have just been acting nice," she mused. "I'm doing him a favor, after all."

"Does that sound like Jaune? The boy who practically beams whenever he sees you?"

"Well, no," admitted Ruby.

"It's not like you're asking him to marry you, you know," Yang said. "We're young! Odds are, you'll have your puppy crush, and maybe your first little boyfriend, and then life will happen. Best case scenario, it'll be a good experience that you look back on fondly when we're all old and mom-like."

"Don't let Mom hear you talk like that."

"The point is, you're making too big a deal of this. Just have fun! Be carefree and enjoy feeling the bubbly feels!"

Ruby smiled at her sister. "I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right! It's that Big Sister Energy, don't you know?" Yang winked at her.

After a while, the sisters helped Pyrrha bring down her fresh falafel down to the rec room, where Jaune and the rest of Dragon Lance were discussing dueling more generally and Crocea Mors specifically, and the upgrades that he'd been planning with Ruby. Ruby's heart flipped as Jaune lit up on seeing her. "Hey, Rubes! I was just telling everyone about the cool ideas you had for Crocea. The parts we ordered came in today, so as soon as Mister Coney gives us the go-ahead, we can get started! I can't wait to see you in action."

"Rubes?" Blake mouthed to Nora, who giggled into her cup.

Ruby felt her cheeks burning as she looked up at Jaune's big goofy smiling face. She couldn't do this while everyone was watching! She couldn't even do it by herself in the mirror! So she retreated to her safe ground. "You know, the biggest difference will actually be due to the wiring," she explained. "The fiber optics will make it handle smoother, less sluggish. Between that and the generator, you should get even more performance out of it. Not that you need it. That duel this morning was amazing, Jaune!"

"Ah, I got lucky, is all," Jaune waved off her praise. "I wasn't planning on Pyrrha's AC tipping over on the way down like that, and the end there, that just happened because I was too afraid of Pyrrha Nikos with a plasma blade to get in close. If I were a better pilot, I'd have been able to actually beat her in a straight-up duel."

Pyrrha coughed. "Well, a win is a win, and lunch is lunch!" She set down the platter containing the pita-wrapped falafel and began distributing them to the salivating Dragon Lance.

Jaune beamed at his sister. "This smells great!"

"Thank you, Jaune. It reminds me of happy times with my mother."

"We need to enjoy the happy times when we can get them," Nora mentioned. While Jaune had been speaking with Ruby and Pyrrha, Nora had settled some dispute between Cardin and Ren by grabbing them both in a headlock.

Yang poured herself a cup of real fruit juice. "To the good times," she toasted, to a ragged cheer from the assembled youths.

"Hey, kids. Is this a party going on?" Taiyang waved from the door of the rec room.

"Oh, Pyrrha just made falafel for everyone," explained Yang. "On account of Jaune beating her in a sim duel."

The Lance-Captain did a double-take at that. "Whoa, really?"

"Well, we were both using Crocea Mors, so she was at a disadvantage," Jaune added. "I didn't really beat her, though. I just got lucky."

"Oh, and simulator pod five needs a new viewscreen," Pyrrha reported dutifully. "I kind of hit my helmet against it on impact."

"On impact?" Taiyang echoed incredulously. "What happened that the simulator went that hard?"

"I kinda shoulder checked her off the highway, and her Crocea landed flat on its back," Jaune explained. "Messed up her boosters and gave me lots of free shots."

"You really should watch the video," Ruby told her father.

"Yeah, I think I will," Taiyang shook his head in disbelief. Then he turned to more important matters. "Did you make one for me?" he asked Pyrrha, referring to the falafel.

Pyrrha smiled brightly at him. "Actually, I was hoping that you could take one to Miss Summer for her lunch?" she asked, presenting him with a paper sack, presumably containing one of the pita-wrapped falafel. She giggled at his crestfallen expression before taking pity on the man. "And yes, there's another one in there for you."

"Score! See, this is why you're the favorite daughter."

"Hey!" protested Ruby.

"What? One gives me free falafel. Those are the rules, I don't make 'em." He gave his youngest a lopsided grin as he ruffled her hair, causing her to stick her tongue out at him. "You kids enjoy your afternoon off. Oh, and Nora, loosen up your grip a little. Your boys are going to turn blue."

"Yeah, but if they can't speak, they can't argue and annoy me," she pointed out.

"Hmm. You make a valid point, and I respect that. Just make sure the brain damage isn't permanent."

"Ten-four, ex-lax!"

Taiyang chuckled as he waved farewell. He really did have the best kids in the world.

[/]

Jaune took a deep breath as he walked up the steps to his own family home. Several days had passed since his duel with Pyrrha, and his father had returned home, a permanent pacemaker installed to keep his heartbeat steady. Jaune had debated waiting further, but truth be told, neither he nor Pyrrha could wait any longer for the answers that they both needed. So Jaune had sent a Scroll message to his father, asking him to meet in the hangar, to discuss 'important things.'

He felt his sister's hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" she asked, concerned.

"I should be asking you that. After all some of the answers...you may not like what he has to say," Jaune warned her.

She nodded. "I know. It's better to have painful truths than to not know at all."

The pair walked together in silence as they approached the hangar. Gil Arc was standing inside, inspecting Summer Rose's Armored Core, Shooting Star, with an appraising eye. It was clear that Pyrrha's Argo had taken many of its design cues from Summer's older Gen 2 model, the older Armored Core appearing like a transitional step between Crocea Mors and Argo. Its parts were mainly painted a matte black color, with occasional red accents and the shoulders painted a bold white, and of course, the infamous Karasawa was held in the unit's hand, ready to deploy in the defense of Vale at a moment's notice.

"Never did like those fancy plasma rifles," Gil said by way of greeting. "Too much of a crutch, I say. Get away with making errors that should've killed you if you weren't able to blast away the Grimm in a single shot."

"Hey, Dad. I brought someone to speak with you. You remember Pyrrha Nikos, from Beacon?"

Pyrrha clasped her hands before her as she bowed politely. "Hello again, sir."

"Hmm. Yes, I remember you. What I don't know is why you're here." He turned to Jaune then. "Unless there's some personal business of yours that you think I should know about? You haven't got her pregnant already, have you, boy?"

They both blanched. "It's not that!" Jaune blurted out quickly. "No, it's...well, it is of a personal nature. Do you remember Ceres Nikos?"

"Who?"

Pyrrha couldn't help but wince. Part of her had held out hope that her parents had had a love relationship. Problematic, yes, but sincere. She smiled sadly at Jaune when she felt his hand on her shoulder, just as she had done for him moments earlier.

"Ceres Nikos was a pilot from Mantle, my mother," Pyrrha explained. "She was killed at Mountain Glenn two years ago."

"Ah, yes, I believe I remember now. My condolences, of course, but still, what does this have to do with anything?"

Jaune narrowed his gaze into a squint at his father. While the older man's words were anodyne and innocent, his eyes had gained that same guarded, suspicious glint that he had seen back in the hospital. In that moment, Jaune knew. He didn't need the DNA test - he could see it written in his father's expression.

Gil Arc was trying to hide something.

"I...know that this will be hard to believe. But before her death, my mother told me who my father was. She even showed me the evidence." She walked up to him and handed him her old envelope. "I don't know how else to say this, but...I'm your daughter."

Gil Arc unfolded the paper and scanned it.

Then he tore it in half.

Pyrrha gasped as she saw the evidence that her mother had entrusted to her fall to the floor in pieces.

"Don't tell me you believe this nonsense, do you?" Gil asked Jaune. "The girl has always been off. Not right in the head. Obsessed with me, even, always skulking around like a rat in the shadows. When you're as famous as I am, these things happen, you know. So what do you want, hmm? Money?" he asked Pyrrha, his tone sharp and biting. "Or just to try to worm your way into my legend?"

"I wanted to know my father!" Pyrrha cried. "I wanted to let you know that I exist, to give you the chance to know me! I wanted to meet my brother, all my sisters, my family!"

"My family. Not yours."

Pyrrha recoiled as though she'd been slapped.

"That's enough."

They both turned to Jaune, with Gil staring in as much astonishment at the commanding tone that Jaune had used as what he'd actually had the gall to say to him.

"Lance-Captain Xiao Long wanted to make extra sure. So he had the lab run her blood against mine, and guess what? Confirmed half-sister. I'm willing to wager Crocea Mors itself that she'd get the same result with each and every one of our many, many sisters." Jaune shook his head. "You're caught, Dad. You might as well tell us, your children, the truth."

"Did...did you ever know about me?" Pyrrha asked, her tone subdued.

Gil had gone pale at the revelation that Beacon knew about his relation to Pyrrha. Jaune suspected that the pacemaker was the only thing keeping him from a second heart attack at that moment. The old man shook his head. "Ceres came to me one night and told me that she was pregnant, and the infant was mine. I told her to take care of it, and that was that."

"But...she did take care of me," Pyrrha insisted, confused. "She took care of me all on her own, until the day she died. I'm not saying you should have left your wife for her, but you could have helped!"

"What are you…" Gil was about to deride the girl as stupid, and explain what an abortion was and why she should have been one, when he caught a sudden and intense deathglare from his son, who had gathered his meaning, causing him to trail off. It unnerved him, seeing his son in such a light, nearly as much as how he was losing control over his family.

"You know," Jaune said, still staring down his father. "Ceres Nikos would have been young when she conceived Pyrrha. Eighteen years old, Dad." Jaune sighed heavily. "You know, I could have accepted infidelity. I mean, I wouldn't have been happy about it - Mom is going to ultra-murder you when she finds out, by the way -"

"You can't tell your mother," Gil interrupted.

"Why not? She deserves to know that truth."

"You'll be tearing this family apart!"

"You did that when you abused your position to prey on a teenage girl!" snapped Jaune. "You weren't so worried about our family then! Viridian, Saph, and Ceri were already born, and Mom was pregnant with me!" He let out a heavy breath. "What I was trying to say is that I get that you and Mom were an arranged marriage. I could have come to accept your straying from Mom, with time. But what I can't accept is what you did to a girl less than half your age."

Gil's eyes widened. "How dare you judge me?" Gil snarled at his son. "All my life, I've served-"

"Oh, spare me the 'lifetime of service' line!" snapped Jaune. "It's pitiful! It's pathetic! And most of all, it doesn't justify preying on young girls under your command!"

Pyrrha looked between father and son as they locked gazes in a test of will. Finally, Jaune asked "Was Ceres the only one?"

Gil looked away, his silence the answer.

Jaune shook his head slowly. "I'm giving you a week to finally do the right thing and come clean to your family. About all of it. If you haven't told them by this time next week, I will." He pulled Pyrrha into a hug. "Come on, Pyr. I think we're done here."

They left Gil Arc behind, to contemplate how his perfect life had spiraled out of his control so quickly.

Their next destination wasn't far. Pyrrha's carefully blank, stoic expression quickly crumbled as Summer Rose opened her apartment door. The older woman rocked on her heels as Pyrrha dashed in to hug her, clutching to her and starting to sob.

"She met our father," Jaune said, by way of explanation. He smiled sadly at her. "I'm sorry to have to ask, but...what happened between you and Gil Arc?"

[/]

Ruby had been sooooo excited. Today was Overhaul Day! Mister Coney had cleared the workshop for them. Crocea Mors had been separated into its component parts, with cranes standing by to reassemble them and maneuver the new weapons into place. She was practically hopping from foot to foot in her giddy anticipation.

Her smile faded as she saw Jaune enter the workshop, visibly distraught.

"Jaune? What's wrong?"

He sighed. "Pyrrha met her father this morning.'

"It...didn't go well?"

Jaune gazed at the floor, and before her anxiety could get the better of her, Ruby found herself hugging him, her face pressed tightly into his chest. He was warm, and comforting, his strong, lithe arms wrapping around her. In the part of her brain that wasn't full of equal part ecstatic and panicked screaming, Ruby noted distantly that he wore a vaguely spicy cologne.

"Ruby?"

She could only squeak in response.

"How do I know when I'm doing the right thing?"

Ruby considered the problem for a moment, turning it over in her mind. "Well," she began, mumbling into his chest. "The only person who can really answer that is you, because you're the one who has to live with doing what you do. And, I mean, you're gonna goof up sometimes. Everybody does. You won't have all the info, or you'll have to choose between two impossible options, or...I dunno. But the important thing is to try. And to keep trying. I think that you're trying now, and that means a lot. It certainly means a lot to Pyrrha."

Jaune nodded, then glanced down at the girl in his arms. Catching her silvery gaze as she raised her head to look at him, Jaune suddenly knew exactly what his mother had been saying about Ruby. She was already a pretty girl, but one day - one day soon - Ruby was going to grow to become truly gorgeous, and for the first time, he saw that. Jaune was abruptly very aware that Ruby was, firstly, a girl, secondly, beautiful, and finally, held closely in his arms.

He swallowed, hard, feeling his face heat up. "Is this...okay?" he asked her.

Ruby gazed up at him, with those large gorgeous eyes of hers. "I...I like it," she admitted.

Jaune's heart pounded in his chest. He allowed himself to linger in her embrace for just a little longer, but ultimately, he had a job to do. "I...well, we can't spend all afternoon hugging, I guess," he chuckled weakly.

"I mean, we could…"

"Yeah, but eventually, they'll start to question why Crocea Mors is still in pieces."

They stood there a moment longer, neither one willing to let go, until finally Jaune, through an effort of will, let go of Ruby and stood back from her. "Thanks, Ruby. I needed that."

Ruby stared at him, cheeks flushed. "Gimme that b-cable!" she blurted, pointing at one of the lengths of fiber optic cable that had been set aside for them. "We've got to hard wire the laser interceptors to the arm pieces before we hook them up to the Core link connectors, or else they won't work with Crocea's Gen 1 arms. Just do exactly what I tell you, okay?"

Jaune smiled at the sight of Ruby Rose in her natural habitat, being Queen of the AC Geeks. "Sure thing, Rubes."

[/]

Gil was still sitting alone at his desk in the hangar, drinking and pondering his next action when Summer Rose entered.

"I didn't hear the Grimm Alarm," he said.

"I hear you met your daughter today."

Gil sighed, taking a long draw from a bottle of whiskey. "What, did you send her off to me? Was that your grand revenge plot? Destroy my family over some shit from twenty years ago?"

"No," Summer shook her head. "I had nothing to do with it. What happens next is because of you. Not me. Not Jaune, or Pyrrha, or even poor Ceres. You. Jaune guessed what happened with us, by the way, or at least, most of it. Between your history with Ceres and your suspicion of me talking to Isabelle and your other daughter. You really did make a habit of targeting us when we were young and powerless, didn't you?"

Gil shrugged. She wasn't wrong, after all. "Speaking of young and powerless women, I hope you know that I won't take this lying down, girl. I may not be an active pilot anymore, but I still have pull. So here's what's going to happen. You're going to tell your husband to destroy every copy of those tests that he has, and then he's going to forget he ever saw anything. And then you're going to tell Pyrrha to shut her mouth and keep it shut. If any of you step out of line, I will destroy your girls' careers. I'll have their licenses, and have Pyrrha profiled as a deranged fan on the six o'clock news. Test me, and see if I won't do it. Keep them quiet or -"

Summer snarled, a primal, animal expression of sheer fury, and she drew a hunting knife from somewhere, slamming its tip into the wood of the desk. Gil stared up at her, shocked. "I'm not a scared teenager anymore, Arc, and you don't give me orders any longer," Summer ground out. "Pyrrha's more my daughter than yours, so believe me when I say that if you ever threaten any of my girls, ever again, I will hurt you. I will hurt you in ways you never imagined, and believe me, the people I know make yours look like harmless puppies."

Gil raised an eyebrow, trying to call her bluff.

"I have Qrow Branwen on speed dial."

The old man visibly paled before clearing his throat. "Perhaps I misspoke earlier."

"Sure," Summer scoffed, pulling her knife free and flipping it back into her flightsuit. "I know Pyrrha isn't the first teenage girl to cry over how you treated her, but she will be the last." She turned to leave, before pausing near the hangar door. "Oh, and keep clear from this hangar until I have my own," she said over her shoulder. "I don't want to risk stepping in any filth."

[/]

Jaune stared up at the reassembled Crocea Mors. All told, it had retained its generalist utility for a wide variety of situations, only becoming...better. While, as Ruby said, the most important changes would be to the internals, there were still plenty of differences with the machine that were easily visible at a glance. In its right hand was a new model rifle that Ruby assured him generated significantly higher muzzle velocity and kinetic damage than the one his father had been using for decades. He would have fewer shots before he would have to reload, but each shot would do more damage to whatever he hit, be it a Grimm or another Armored Core. Around the waist of the mech were multiple "mag packs," named as such both for their function as additional magazines of solid-shell ammunition and by the magnetic mechanism that kept them. secured to the outer armor. Where the back-mounted radar unit had been was now occupied by a chain gun, which used a sort of powered chain mechanism to fire rifle-sized slugs at machine gun rates. Some of the uses that Ruby had suggested for it was to stun-rush opponents, to punish enemies that closed to extremely close range, or as an anti-air weapon against flying Grimm.

While Jaune was already contemplating new ways to put the chain gun to good use, the Gen 2 HYDRA multi-missile launcher that replaced his father's ancient launcher just made him happy on a fundamental level. It launched four missiles off of a single lock, and could support up to six locks on a single pull of the trigger. With the new Fire Control System that Ruby was installing in his head part, Crocea Mors would be able to fire a salvo of up to twenty-four small warheads at once, either at six different targets or a single target that absolutely, positively needed to get blasted to smithereens. Of course, Crocea Mors couldn't support that rate of missile fire for very long, but just being able to do that at all significantly increased the AC's ability to project lethal force at longer range.

Affixed to the shoulders were a pair of short-range laser emitters, each one having three lasers. Ruby had told him that he would need to manually trigger them to work, and it would be better to dodge the missiles altogether, but at least he had some form of warhead mitigation that wasn't directly tanking with his armor when dodging wasn't an option.

His new head part looked reminiscent of a knight's sallet helm, and as Ruby fired up the new generator from the rear of the Armored Core, a yellow band, like a visor, began to glow, indicating that optical sensors were online. Ruby herself eventually emerged from behind the head part, triumphantly holding up the ancient Fire Control System that she had replaced in her arms like a trophy.

Her smile was bright, and pure, and so beautiful that it hurt. As his heart threatened to skip a beat, Jaune realized that he might be in trouble.

[/]

Emerald passed the time on the trek to Cinder's "Command Center" thinking of new and innovative ways in which she could get revenge on everyone involved in this insanity, only putting the bare amount of attention necessary to keep her AC plodding along behind Mercury's. The sun had set some time ago, and she had scoffed when she had seen the dark shape of a mountain ahead.

Then Cinder had ordered them to stay put while she prepared her "Midnight Titan," as she called it. Emerald had wondered if that was what she named her sex toy.

But mountains didn't move.

Mountains didn't extend long wings of oily blackness, demarcated by stark white bones.

Mountains didn't raise a white-skulled head at the end of a long, serpentine neck, nor did they affix baleful, glowing red eyes onto people.

And as Cinder's strange Armored Core wriggled into the thrashing skull of the creature - a Grimm, Emerald numbly realized - mountains didn't shriek.

"Mercury," she panted. "What have you done?"

[/]

Chapter Endnotes: The plot thickens!

You know, another comment that I wanted to respond to - in a different way! - came from a user called "Korst," who had played the games and had opinions on Pyrrha's Armored Core. This would ordinarily be the sort of thing that I'd discuss with a reader via PM, but alas, and alack, he has disabled them! So, I'll be talking about his points here.

So, the reason for Pyrrha's Armored Core being the way it is is because it is literally the cover AC of Armored Core 2. That game came out in 2000, and I remember being a little mini-Mahina, staring up at the display at GameStop, where it was showing the introduction video for that game as a demonstration of the brand-new Playstation 2. I was around nine, and that was the coolest shit I had ever seen in my life, and I wanted to pay tribute to that specific AC with Pyrrha.

But also, for missile interception, first of all, dodging isn't always an option. Secondly, from a story writing perspective, having Jaune's paltry little missile attack get countered without Pyrrha even having to lift a finger emphasized just how outmatched Crocea Mors was in that duel.

Besides, sometimes the AC designs are less about what's the numerically "best" possible AC, and more about what fits the personality of the RWBY characters. Like Oobleck's ridiculous Armored Core, for example.

So, that's a bit of why some of the AC designs are the way they are. Now, onto some commentary for this chapter specifically.

New takes on characters. Adam as a sacrifice-driven patriot. Ironwood is the father to the Schneeblings. Kali is the queen of her people, and Blake is literally a pretty kitty princess.

Mama Summer is not to be trifled with.

Oh, and Cinder has an enormous Grimm that she controls like a brain parasite. This is not a subtle story, to say the very least.

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!

-Mahina