Petrova hummed, idly walking through the corridors of the landship. His boots made the occasional clink against the metal floor, adding some quiet ambience to the otherwise-empty halls. Any other time, he would have tried to avoid it.
"But it isn't as if there's anyone around to hear it, is there?" Petrova idly thought. The occasional porthole allowed Petrova a glimpse into the world around the landship. It was barren, for the most part; Originium contamination killing anything that tried to live in the dirt. A small patch of hardy grasses had sprung up atop a hill – some Originium-resistant breed, likely.
Well, it was livelier than the tundra at least. Petrova smiled, happy to be in warmer climes at last.
"Petrova, I have something for you and the Yetis." Andrey said, making Petrova jump.
"What is it?" Petrova asked.
"Do some spare swords sound appealing to you?"
Petrova grinned. "Lead the way."
The Yetis flooded into the armory when Petrova opened the door, marveling at the variety of the weapons on display – as well as the sheer amount of them. Petrova chuckled, leaning against the doorframe and watching them at work.
"You're not picking out one for yourself?" Andrey asked.
"Nah. The one I have now –" Petrova tapped the sheathed sword at his hip – "was taken straight from a weapons shipment for the capital's Guard. Nothing in here that's better than that."
"How'd you get your hands on one of those? Those shipments should be well-guarded."
"They were, up until Patriot happened." Petrova smiled fondly, recalling that battle. Well, it had been less a battle, and more of a one-sided beatdown. The convoy had walked straight into a valley filled with Casters, crossbowmen, and Patriot. "We didn't lose anyone that day."
"Wow. Congratulations, I guess?" Andrey's hesitant tone coaxed another chuckle out of Petrova.
"Thanks. Killing isn't really something to be congratulated on, though."
"Mhm."
Petrova glanced over to the Yetis, seeing many of them already with new weapons on their belts. "Well, looks like the Yetis are mostly done. I'll see you later, Andrey."
"Okay. Bye." And then he disappeared again – probably going back to annoying Frostnova.
"Let's go, guys. You five –" Petrova pointed towards the closest group of Yetis – "are cooking today. Come with me."
The selected Yetis followed behind Petrova as he left the armory, making his way towards the canteen – making one last call to the Yetis as he walked through the hallways.
"Last one there only gets leftovers!"
That drove the Yetis to action.
"Hey, Petrova? We might have a problem."
"What?" Petrova replied, stuffing the remnants of his meal into his mouth and getting up. Light glinted off his sword as he unsheathed it, the Yetis around him quickly following suit.
"Engine room. A few of the mechanics are making some… suspicious tweaks to the engine."
"What for? That'd just strand everyone." Nonetheless, Petrova heeded Andrey's warning. Raising his sword towards the door, Petrova called to the Yetis. "Engine room, now!"
The sound of boots against steel drowned out all else, the sound echoing through the empty canteen.
"Marking them… now." Andrey said, Petrova blinking as red dots appeared in his vision.
"Huh. Fancy." Petrova said as he ran through the hallways, rushing down a flight of stairs. "That explains how Frostnova was able to shoot that guard through the wall."
"You noticed that?" Andrey asked, utterly unperturbed by the blistering speeds at which Petrova was rushing through the bowels of the landship.
"Hard not to. Speaking of which, why not just call Frostnova?" A tough-looking steel door was outlined in red, and Petrova rushed over it and tried to open the door – finding it locked.
"Frostnova and machines equals disaster." Andrey replied. "Though she'd have been useful for busting this door down."
"Eh, I can handle it." Petrova said, taking a step back, delivering a kick. The door bent with a loud clang, but nonetheless remained standing. Through the cracks, Petrova saw a pair of eyes look back – before they quickly turned away.
"Huh. You're strong." Andrey idly commented as Petrova shoulder-charged the door crumpled around the point of impact, but stubbornly refused to give way.
"Hmph." Petrova took another step back, prepared to charge again – quickly glancing at the Yetis that had gathered behind him. "Ready?"
The tip of a crossbow peeked through one of the cracks.
"Cr–" Andrey's warning was quickly drowned out by Petrova's roar.
"Archer!" Petrova dove to the side, his Yetis following suit. With a loud twang, the crossbow bolt flew free – striking the walls and embedding itself in the steel.
A Yeti cried out in shock, getting up and returning fire. The bolt flew wide, tearing halfway through the door before grinding to a halt.
"Great, I gotta take this seriously…" Petrova swore, calling to the Yetis now pressed against the wall. "Archers, beside the door. Now!"
Those of the Yetis who were equipped with crossbows quickly rushed over. An eye peeked out through the cracks, and its owner was quickly rewarded with a bolt to the face. The Yeti responsible returned to place and began reloading his crossbow again.
"Five armed mercenaries, three mechanics. One's already down. Whatever they're doing, it's almost done." Andrey warned. "I'm killing the mechanics."
"Why not the mercs?" Petrova asked, pressing against the wall and letting out a shout. Some trigger-happy fool inside apparently saw that as reason enough to fire, and the bolt slammed harmlessly upon the opposite wall.
"I doubt you'd fancy dying in a conflagration." The sound of two bodies hitting the ground followed, and the last remaining mechanic let out a shriek as he saw his comrades laid out onto the floor.
"A conflag-what?" Petrova silence – only punctuated by the heavy breathing of the Yetis around him. The dots in Petrova's vision were disappearing too, fading and soon winking out of existence entirely. "Andrey?"
"Andrey, can you hear me?" No response. Petrova grumbled. He was on his own, it seemed. Well, at least one mechanic would have trouble finishing whatever it was the smugglers were doing.
Andrey had probably just fallen "asleep" from overusing his Arts again.
"Hey, anybody got one of Frostnova's crystals?" Petrova asked. A Yeti wordlessly handed it to him. "Thanks."
"Alright." Petrova whispered, taking a half-step towards the door. "Three… two… one."
He jammed the freezing piece of Originium through the door, hearing it fall through to the other side and crack apart. "Go!"
A sudden gust of freezing wind blasted out through the door, followed by the shouts of those within. Trusting his coat to shield him, Petrova rammed the door again, and this time it gave way to a room filled with icy fog.
Perfect. Their crossbows were as good as useless now. Seeing an indistinct shape barely a few steps away from him, Petrova rushed up and thrust his sword through the mercenary's back, cutting down and through – before wresting his sword free.
A mercenary stepped forwards through the fog, crossbow loaded and pointed forward. Seeing the man behind Petrova, he stopped and turned to the side. "Hey, Gabriel. Any idea what those sons of bitches pulled on us?"
"Gabriel?" The mercenary paused when "Gabriel" didn't respond, receiving a sword through the ribs for his hesitation. Petrova sighed. Gods, these mercs were poorly trained. Or just blind. Well, he couldn't blame them; the Yetis' coats were perfect camouflage.
Stalking through the fog, Petrova heard a shout beside him – pivoting to block a thrown wrench to the face. As poorly aimed as it was, the piece of steel was still heavy – knocking him back a step.
"Die!" The mechanic charged him head-on, attempting a clumsy stab with a knife.
Petrova sidestepped him easily, seeing the shock register on the man's face. It didn't last for much longer, as Petrova slashed at the mechanic's side and cut him open. A few drops of blood splashed on him as he kept moving.
"Hey, I'm back. What'd I miss?" Andrey's voice sounded out, apparently unfazed by the bloodshed around them. "Oh, one left by the way."
"Yeah, I know." Petrova charged forwards with a chuckle. "Backseat driver."
"Hey!" Andrey complained. The last mercenary let out a yell, and blueish Arts emanated from him, driving away the fog in an instant – revealing his comrades strewn on the floor. Petrova stepped back cautiously, reconsidering his charge. Opponents with Arts were dangerous, and the mercenary likely had more tricks up his sleeve.
Or at least, he did until no less than three crossbow bolts pierced his body, pinning him against the wall. The man let out a gurgle and collapsed.
The stench of blood wafted out from the bodies around him, and Petrova crinkled his nose. Disposing the bodies would be quite the unpleasant chore; it wasn't as if there were any convenient windows nearby.
The grinding of gears drew his attention, and Petrova peeked through the opened engine lid. A half-completed mechanism hung from a wall panel, and Petrova walked over and made to tear it off the wall. It didn't budge, the thick bolts attaching it to the wall more than sufficient.
"Grab a wrench; I'll show you what you need to take apart." Andrey said. "Really, what'd you expect trying to rip off a brake of all things? Those are tough enough to stop the entire engine."
"Yeah, I know. Well, it was worth a try." Petrova picked up a wrench and got to work, Andrey helpfully outlining a bolt in red. Looking back, he saw the other Yetis staring at him. Right, he'd forgotten to give them instructions.
"Anybody know where the nearest chute to the outside is?" Petrova asked.
"Go fifty meters down the hallway, then take a right and walk for roughly twenty-five more meters." Andrey said without a pause, marking another bolt. "That should be the last one."
Petrova loosened the bolt, and carefully took off the brake, taking it out of the engine. Casually slinging a body over his shoulder, he motioned to the Yetis. "Alright, let's go. Follow me."
A red line appeared from under his feet, snaking along the ground and disappearing into the distance.
"Andrey, I'm not a child." Petrova sighed.
"Okay. Just checking." Andrey laughed. "Well, I should probably go report to Frostnova. See you later."
"Mhm." Petrova replied, somewhat distracted by the odor of the dead body over his shoulder.
Andrey really had it good, being without a body and all.
Frostnova watched as Petrova walked up the staircase in his coat. The pure white of his coat was stained thoroughly with splotches of red.
Regardless, Petrova gave her an easy smile and wave. "Had to deal with a bit of a mutiny down in the engine room. No casualties on our end; had to kill a few mercs and mechanics. Oh, and we used one of your crystals."
Frostnova nodded. "Mhm. Andrey told me."
"He bothering you?" Petrova asked, taking off his coat with a groan and throwing it on a nearby bench. "Great, now that has to be cleaned."
"No, he's been a good…" Frostnova hesitated, looking for the word.
"Friend?" Petrova asked.
His voice took a teasing lilt. "Or perhaps… more?"
"I-wh-no?" Heat blossomed in Frostnova's cheeks. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "N-no."
That didn't sound right. She paused, closed her eyes, and breathed in. Gradually, she let out a breath of chilly air, and opened her eyes again, staring Petrova in the eyes.
"Andrey and I are not in a relationship. We are just allies, and… friends, I guess."
Petrova was watching all this in silent hysterics, and barely managed to steady himself for a response. "Why'd you assume I was talking about a relationship? 'More' could mean anything."
"I–" Whatever. This was a waste of everyone's time. Frostnova sighed. "Petrova, this doesn't matter. We work well together, but nobody is interested in… these things."
"I, for one, am very interested in how this conversation is going." Andrey interjected.
Frostnova let out an indignant shriek.
"ANDREY!"
AN: We're back! I actually got something done! Whoo! Seriously, I didn't expect this to become something of an improvised hiatus. It's nobody's fault but my own. As for what I spent my time on, I've been reading a lot of fanfiction. More than 2 million words of it, to be precise, which I've gone back and bulk-favorited. Coeur Al'Aran's a great writer; I would recommend checking his works if you have the chance. Even if you haven't actually watched RWBY like me.