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Weiss stood at the edge of her ship, looking down at the vast grasslands that stretched out away from the forest below her. Vast herds of shaggy cows, bison and goats grazed, stretching out in little clusters of rusty red, dark black and white scattered all across the horizon while small sail-ships more like her own than not drifted high overhead, watching them. A few just like them were landed, where Weiss knew the marksmen aboard would have taken down a number of whatever they'd been ordered to gather - or predators, perhaps - and would be preparing them to haul away for final processing.

In the distance, she could see a handful of Atlesian warships patrolling, keeping their sensors open for any aerial Grimm they would need to interdict.

But Weiss had come for the massive silver ship hanging back just beyond the treeline. It was as long as the largest Atlesian warship, but twice as large, with a hundred open segments that airships came and went from to deposit the food being gathered. It held itself aloft with massive turbo-fans on the bottom that pushed so hard she could see the trees feeling the breeze, and twenty of the solar-sails Weiss' own ship had along its belly. Unlike hers, though, it had another row of twenty on either side above the docking bays, along the upper edge of the outer hull, and each of its sails were twice as long as hers.

"Really puts things in a certain perspective, doesn't it?"

"The IFC's ships are one third housing, one third factory, and one third refrigeration." Weiss hummed, watching the ship and its surrounding ships at work, "Size is… Needed, to fit so much."

"Oh, I know…" Pyrrha chuckled, "I just… Can you imagine captaining such a vessel?"

"In some of my wildest dreams, perhaps, yes." She murmured, straightening the nice dress she'd put on and smoothing the frills. It was a simple thing, with lite ruffling on the skirt and all a cool cream-color. "How do I look? Suitable, I hope."

"Radiant." She flushed and Pyrrha chuckled, shaking her head wryly, "What? You asked, I answered."

"Fiend…"

"Perhaps, perhaps. But an observant one." Pyrrha winked playfully and, not for the first time, Weiss wondered where precisely all that was coming from. Unless making Weiss stammer and flush was that entertaining, of course. Sighing, Pyrrha leaned back against the railing and added, under her breath but more than loud enough for Weiss to hear, "Not that it's very difficult to observe this particular fact…

It was official, then.

Weiss' head was going to explode…

"Captain." She turned at the grating, painfully synthesised voice as one of her droids - one of two whose speakers functioned - came over with a crate on a dolly that held her seeds. "IFC ship eight-four-nine has provided docking coordinates at bay nine."

"Thank you." She nodded, turning to head back to the steerage and talking to Pyrrha as she went, "I will see our seeds sold, and at good price. While I do so, I would like it very much if you could keep an eye on the ship for me."

"Can I ask why…?"

"If you were a poor worker waiting in cramped quarters for the next time you get to be dropped off to harvest potatoes and hoping no Grimm breach the perimeter, and a foreign ship landed…" She turned, resting her hand on the wheel and raising an eyebrow, "Would you pass up the chance to sneak aboard and find something worthwhile? Even some better food would be valuable…"

"Ah." Pyrrha nodded, "You want me to protect the wine."

"Sure." She rolled her eyes, turning the ship onto a bearing to come around to the bay - which, of course, was on the other side of the ship. "I want you to protect the wine."

"Yes, Ma'am, Captain!" Pyrrha saluted lazily, smiling warmly when Weiss scoffed and waved her off, turning back to her wheel and sighing.

"She's going to be the death of me…"

As she approached the IFC ship, she started to pick out more details of it. Details that spoke to its age and wear. Long, painted-over scratches along its hull, and dents pinged along it from Grimm attacks. Still, the massive harvesting ship was entirely intact, and apparently unbothered. It was a very nearly awe inspiring sight to behold.

Inside, the bay was fully self-contained for security's sake, with a single wide bay door at the back for offloading. It was remarkably clean, too. Cleaner than she'd expected, without any of the surface damage she'd seen on the hull outside, and considering its purpose. Enough to stand out, at least, as she came down the ramp with one of her servile drones behind her, pulling the cart. A man met her at the bottom of the ramp, dressed in a black uniform with 'IFC' printed on one shoulder and a chevron on the other. He was young, with short hair tied in a braid over his shoulder and a clean-shaven face.

"Captain Schnee." He dipped his head, "My commander passes on his respects, and his welcome to our bay."

"You both have my thanks." She nodded, smiling, "It's remarkably clean, for your work. And your ship is impressive."

"This is one of our expedited bays. This and sixteen, on the other side." He answered, offering his hand, "Private Chambers. And it is a pleasure to have one as lovely such as yourself here, Captain Schnee."

"Charmed, entirely." She smiled, shaking his hand and taking a respectful back, using a gesture at the crate beside her as an excuse. He smiled warmly, disguising a glance up and down her in looking at the crate, and she fought not to sigh. She'd long since grown used to this type…

And disused to them after so long trying to recover.

"I have my seeds with me, as discussed." She said, "I presume you wish to inspect them?"

"I must, yes." He smiled oh-so apologetically, throwing up his hands in faux-surrender. "Security protocols, you understand."

"Of course."

The inspection was swift enough, mostly consisting of him checking the seals on the jars and their construction. Apparently, the little hairline cracks along its edges were useful for dating the jars. Apparently, when jars were so heavily filled as 'survivalists' from before the Collapse preferred to do, it put gentle pressure on the glass. Not enough to matter for years, of course, or the jars would be worthless. But, after decades, that pressure wore on the glass just enough to be visible. Which made age-spotting on jars for common seeds a visual art - and the common seeds' ages helped validate her claims on the spinach seeds, before they ran proper tests.

All of which he was all too eager to explain to her, in that way of someone trying very much to ingratiate themself with someone.

Or rather, in an infuriating way.

Satisfied, he nodded and let her close up the crate, "If you will follow me, Captain, I shall take you to our seed testing facility. A sample of the seeds will verify their nature and, from there, we will head to my office to negotiate a price. I trust that market-rate on the normal seeds will suffice?"

"It will." It wouldn't be much, but new seed-samples were valuable enough for genetic diversity amongst crops. Enough were lost in storms and other disasters, as well as Grimm attacks during harvests or when the ships were coming back, that they had lost some varieties entirely over time. Especially early after Uplift. Gesturing for the door, she smiled, "Lead the way."

He lead her through the doors and to the side, away from a wide-open bay of crates with cables and wiring running between them. Refrigerated storage, she figured - the work of processing the hides, meats and bones would be done separately to storage for obvious reasons. Through several halls, and up a lift, they came into a long, sterile smelling hallway with a long window on one wall. Through it she could see a lab, with plant samples cut and laid out on trays and dozens of workers in sealed white suits working at them. Testing, she was sure, but most plants weren't crops she could identify.

"Mushrooms." The man explained when she asked, talking as they walked, "Mushrooms can be valuable sources of numerous valuable dietary needs. As we travel, we set out felled trees, meat-waste, and,well… Toilet waste in small fields in the forest. Then, after a year or so when the herds migrate, we check and test them."

"Is it productive…?"

"When we identify mushrooms of worth, we sew them in the same fields, refreshed of course, and harvest them routinely." He nodded, waving a hand at the lab as they walked, "They are incredibly valuable for ration bars especially. Presuming they aren't toxic in one way or another-"

"Hence the suits."

"Hence the suits, yes." He chuckled, "Assuming they are safe, they are considered for production. And some are delicious. You should try a White Puffball, when you have the chance. I know several excellent restaurants…"

"I am rather tight on Lien as of now," she smiled, knowing what he was implying and heading it off by adding, "and rather heavy on work, too."

"Understandable." He nodded, "Regardless, to answer your question, it varies. We have numerous active fields throughout the forest's edge. But we are always looking to expand."

"How do you prevent animals eating them?"

"We don't." He answered frankly, "This is supplementary. Only meant to aid, not cure, a chronic condition of Atlas."

"I see…"

Finally, they reached a smaller laboratory. This one also had a window, through which she could see a few men and women - this time in the same dark uniform Chambers wore - taking samples from jars of seeds and bulbs and using a variety of machines, microscopes, and the like to examine them. One of them, a more portly woman with gray streaking her red hair, came over as she and Chambers stepped through the doors.

"How can I help you?"

"Seed-strain test." The man grunted, gesturing at the crate, "Captain, if you would?"

She offered the jar to the scientist a moment later and, gently, she took it and moved over to a clear space on the counter-top. Turning, she asked, "Do I have official permission to open this, Captain?"

"You do."

"Very good."

The entire process didn't take long, though somehow, Weiss still felt anxious for it all. Why, she couldn't be sure - even if the seeds weren't what she thought, or just rotten, the rest would cover the cost of coming. And that was beside the job they'd taken to come here in the first place. Even so, she watched the woman pour a small scoop of the seeds out into several small trays with sharp eyes. And kept watching as she and several others put them into processing machines, microscopes, and more.

Finally, the woman took a little paper from each and came over, reading out, "High nutrient content, rich in vitamins, and distinctly not in modern rota on Atlas. The seeds are unique and, from testing, quite valuable."

"Rating?"

"B." She nodded, handing him the paperwork, "Presuming we do not find in testing that it grows easily."

"And if it does…?"

"A." She answered, turning to give her a smile, "Do not worry, Captain. If further testing increases its value, you will be paid a secondary commission."

"Thank you." She smiled, turning to Chambers and humming, "From my recollection, a class A seed-jar of that size should fetch…"

"Weight?" Chambers cut her off, turning when the doctor confirmed it as being about two pounds. His tone was still polite, even warm, but she got the sense he was beginning to lose interest in her - or, more likely, beginning to see her own lack of interest and letting it go. "Nine thousand Lien. If it is upgraded later, twelve, and the rest will be dispatched to you accordingly. Does that sound fair?"

"Perfectly."

"Very good." He nodded, turning and waving for her to follow, "I will see you to Officer Brookes, and she will dispense payment. And then you shall be free to go. Shall I see your ship's fuel reserves refilled, where needed?"

"Thank you." Weiss smiled, "That is more than generous."

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"You're certain…?"

"I am." Weiss nodded as she and Pyrrha disembarked from her ship, once more at what passed for home in her rented bay. Smiling, she said, "You found the job, so keep the payout."

"But…"

"Put it towards payments on your contract if you like, I certainly won't mind." Weiss suggested, if only to ease the almost pained look on the other woman's face. Shrugging, she went on, "I have more than enough from the seeds. Even without the job payment, I'm considering some upgrades to the ship."

"Upgrades…?"

"More droids, for a start." She nodded, gesturing at the sails, "Reinforcement for those - and perhaps supplementary forward sails for control. That one is a bit more expensive, of course, but…" But Weiss had seen what happened when a ship lost control, she left unsaid. Instead, she sighed and turned, heading over to walk the hull, checking for damage. "My point being, you should keep it, and I will hardly go hungry for you doing so."

"Very well…" Pyrrha hummed, following her and, after a moment, speaking, "On the topic of upgrades…"

"Hm?"

"I believe we need more than just droids and equipment." Pyrrha said, smiling thinly, "I believe we need to expand our crew."

Weiss blinked, confused, and Pyrrha took the silence as an opportunity to explain, "You are a solid pilot, and negotiator, and I am an astounding combatant-"

"And oh so very humble, too."

"Shush." Pyrrha smiled, shaking her head and sighing, "But we still lack things. Lack skills, rather."

"Like?"

"For one thing, what would we have done had the cache we found been alarmed?" Pyrrha asked simply, gesturing at Weiss and asking, "Do you know how to access and bypass security systems? Either pre-Uplift or after? Because I very much do not. At that point, we would have had to either break it open and risk the mission or bring the entire container with us, back to Atlas. Where it would have waited for us to find someone to open it."

"And without us even knowing if it was worthwhile…"

"Exactly." Pyrrha nodded, "But, worse, what if something happens to the ship?"

"The ship?" Weiss' eyes widened, a trill of pear lancing up her spine before she could school herself.

"Say we are struck by a storm, or Grimm, and manage to get past both." Pyrrha nodded, pacing side to side as she talked, like she was nervous suddenly and needed to work it out. "In that case, let us assume one of the lateral sails are damaged. I can't repair that, and our servile drones are not intelligent or refined enough to."

"I-I take your point…" And damn her stutter - and damn Pyrrha for noticing and turning to her, worry etched into her face.

"Weiss, I'm sorry, I'm not trying to-"

"I assume," Weiss cut the woman off, holding a hand up for peace if only to avoid embarassing herself, "that you have someone in mind?"

"...Two someones, yes." Pyrrha nodded, "One is a fighter, like myself, and the other is an adept engineer."

"Do we need both…?"

"They are something of a package deal, I'm afraid." Pyrrha nodded sadly, "However… They will only require one bunk. And come cheap enough, due to circumstance."

"Lovers?" Weiss grimaced. It made sense, given the shared quarters, and she couldn't really turn away skilled help if it came cheaply enough.

"No!" Pyrrha squawked, suddenly blushing, "N-No. Not, uh, lovers… Sisters."

"Ah." She blinked, "Well… That's better, I suppose."

"If you're willing to consider it, then-"

"Pyrrha, we are equals in this." Whether she had to pay Pyrrha's contract fees or not, Weiss refused to see it any other way. She couldn't stomach it. Not after the kindnesses she'd been shown. Smiling, she went on, "If you think we need more crew, who am I to really argue? And besides, you raise excellent points. All I need to know is if you trust these two."

"I know them by reputation." Pyrrha shrugged, "One is excellent in a fight, but… Lost her arm, so many doubt her. The other is an excellent engineer, but…"

"But?"

"She lost her eyes." Pyrrha grimaced, "And her prosthetics require routine maintenance."

"Ah…" That explained why they paired themselves together for contracts, then. Even if the engineer's needs dragged the price down, without her sister, it was unlikely that anyone would hire her. And without that income, how would she afford the care she needed? A question which struck a bit closer to home than she would have liked…

"Very well." She sighed, "Will you arrange a meeting?"

"Of course." Pyrrha smiled, "Give me a day."

"You have it." Weiss promised, "Once they're hired, we can see to upgrades."

After Weiss paid down her debts, of course, but that hardly needed to be said. And a couple thousand of what she'd gotten today would go a long way. Just another step towards freedom, she told herself, counting every Lien…

Just another step.

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The IFC -

The IFC is the Institute of Food Collections, and utilises ten massive work-ships and hundreds of three-man gathering ships to gather from known forage spots, monitor and harvest from wandering herd animals, and monitor and harvest from mostly-autonomous farming and fishing sites. Settling people is impossible, and too-advanced drones come under attack as well, necessitating human involvement in this way.

The ARS (Atlesian Revenue Service) also notes that such automation should be avoided for the purposes of maintaining the economy.

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