Bud 3.3

I decided to make this journey to the PHQ on foot, out-of-costume. I didn't have to worry about my hair getting recognized since it was covered up all the time by my hood, but I still needed to worry about clothing. That was something that had been explained to me in explicit detail. Thankfully, they hadn't actually limited my wardrobe in any way, but they'd advised me to try and change things up. I was still sticking to my colors, but I'd avoided hoods at all costs, and I'd gone with jeans over my usual skirt.

There was a complicated system involved in getting heroes on and off the Rig out-of-costume when it was needed, and I almost felt bad for making people go through it, but the duty officer was nice once she heard that it was my first time going through it. I got put in an unmarked PRT van from the landside building at the far end of the bridge that drove to a totally different building somewhere on the Boardwalk, which itself was connected via underground tunnel to a different building that let me out nearby. It struck me as being a little unnecessary, but then the existence of the Rig kind of proved that they liked to go overboard.

I walked from the Boardwalk into Brockton's Downtown, following a similar path to one I'd taken plenty of times before in-costume. It took me a while to appreciate just how anonymous I was. Hair aside, I blended into the crowd perfectly. Only a couple of people seemed to pay me any attention, and they weren't the kind of people that anybody wanted to have the attention of. It was a little scary, seeing… creeps like that out in the open. Not many others seemed to even notice them, either. Not that it didn't happen back home too, of course, and it wasn't like I didn't have ways of protecting myself or somebody else if it came down to it, but I wasn't usually out in public, and I hadn't been… incognito like this in years. I kept a close eye on them, despite the fact that I doubted they'd be dumb enough to try anything here.

I started noticing other things, too. The outsides of buildings were covered in multicolored lights, and streetlights had wreaths hanging from the tops. There'd been a little of that when I first arrived, but I'd been too focused on other things to pay them much attention. There was a lot more of it now. They looked almost like Christmas decorations, and I thought I'd heard a couple of people mention it in passing since I'd gotten to Earth, but… they couldn't have that here, right? Remnant had different continents, a different moon, different people and threats. Our history, fragmented as it was, shared practically nothing with that of this world. For the two worlds to share something like a holiday… I guess it was no stranger than our somehow sharing a language, but still.

Sure enough, though, it wasn't long before I caught sight of a digital bank sign flashing 'Four days until Christmas!' in eye-searing red and green. That wasn't the only one, either. I didn't know how I'd missed it all on my other patrols. Even displayed on what would have been a frighteningly outdated piece of technology on Remnant, the sight of that woke up some very old, happy memories inside me… alongside some confusion. I'd have to ask somebody about it. Maybe the Director could put me into contact with Dragon again.

There were only a couple of miles between the two HQs, and even at a walking pace, I could get from one to the other in less than an hour. I was starting to pick up on some of the more subtle differences between parts of the city, even in the small, safe, well-off area I was moving through. As I moved into Downtown from the Boardwalk, people's style of dress shifted from more relaxed to more formal, getting a little bit cheaper but also a little more practical. It had taken me a while to figure out where the difference had come from, but it was obvious once I noticed it - tourists. They weren't really a thing back home, what with Grimm making travel so hard. Until the last few months, anyway, they had been a rare sight.

The entryway to the PRTHQ wasn't nearly as complex as it was for the Rig, probably because of how many people went there on a regular basis anyway. I just had to walk into the building, slip through a door just off the main lobby marked 'employees only' when I was sure nobody was looking, and scan my new Protectorate ID on an inconspicuous card reader to open another door in the rear of the room.

Once inside, I started making my way back toward the non-public stairs, in order to find my way to the upper levels. It was a maze back there without somebody leading me, and the signage was practically nonexistent. I could see the logic, at least. The couple of Atlas warships I'd been on were similar, with the idea that anyone who wasn't supposed to be on the ship wouldn't know how to navigate it, but that didn't make it any easier on the new girl.

At least I'd gotten here early. I learned that mistake too many times at Beacon, thank you very much.

I was just considering the merits of scattering through the vents and trying my luck wherever I popped out when I finally ran into a familiar face. Miss Militia, or Hannah if I remembered right, but she was in-costume so it didn't matter anyway, was coming down a set of stairs between my floor and the one above me. Probably a good sign that I was heading in the right direction, at the very least.

Remembering the awkwardness of our last meeting, I slowed down. I thought I could wait for her to leave the stairs, and then she could walk past me without having to say anything. Militia had different plans, though. Her eyes widened when she saw me, and she stopped in exactly the wrong place to avoid a conversation as she reached the bottom.

She took a moment, probably to put her words together, before speaking up. "Sc- Ruby I… feel the need to apologize. I would have done it sooner but I haven't run into you in a week or so. I shouldn't have walked out the way I did."

Ah. That was… unexpected. "Umm… I should probably apologize too, for pushing like that. Things are different enough here that I'm starting to notice boundaries that don't exist back home."

"Hah, like-" Her tone was a little harsher, but she cut herself off with a shake of her head. "Nevermind, sorry. Are you up for putting this behind us?"

I nodded holding out a hand for her to shake. "That's fine with me."

Her handshake was quick and professional. Up-down-up, and done. When she spoke again, I could hear a small smile in her voice. "Thank you. Are you looking for something back here?"

"Umm… the director's office. This is my first time trying to find it from this side."

"Ah, yes," Militia replied. "This place is a nightmare for your first few weeks, more than any other department I've worked at. You're headed up these stairs, left at the top, and… yeah, you'll recognize the first hallway on your right. Does that help?"

Two turns away. Hopefully, even I could avoid getting lost with something that simple. "I hope so. Thank you!"

She nodded. "Anytime. Good luck in there," she said, nodding in what I assumed was the general direction of Piggot's office.

"Thanks, I think I'm going to need it, heh."

I moved up the stairs, took a left, and followed the hallway for several yards before coming to the intersection. Sure enough, I recognized that hallway as the one her office was on, and I could see her door at the far end.

The door was closed this time, and I could faintly hear voices coming from inside the room. I knocked on the door, taking care not to make too much noise at the late hour. It was late in the evening, and though I doubted that anyone was actually in the area, I didn't want to annoy anyone.

A few seconds after I knocked, I heard the conversation end and the director's voice call for me to enter. I found her seated in her usual spot behind her desk. This time, there was a half-inch layer of paperwork covering a large area, neatly stapled and stacked to molecular precision. Nobody else was there. She had probably been on the phone or something, but I was surprised at how easy it had been to hear that.

"Scatter," she said. "I take it you're here about your experiences with the Wards yesterday evening?"

By this point, I wasn't exactly surprised to find that she knew. "Yes, Ma'am. I guess you heard what happened?"

"They walked out, and only Vista plans to continue with your style of training, correct?"

"Yeah, that's right," I said. "I don't get it. They want action, but they're not willing to go through what it takes to prepare themselves for it."

I decided not to mention Vista's situation, for the moment anyway. I didn't want to get her in trouble, especially if she was actually going to stop like she'd promised.

Piggot responded, "They're children. Even the reasonable ones are rarely the most rational of people. Regardless, I can't help you keep them coming. I have better things to do than help you lure them back in and I wouldn't order them into it even if I was allowed to do so. That's your own problem to solve."

Darn. It was probably for the best that they didn't feel like I was forcing them into anything, but I had no idea how I was going to convince them of how important this was. "Right. Um, you wanted a report about how their session went, right? I can give it to you now if you need me to."

"It's unneeded, I got a report from your minder and complaints from both Aegis and Clockblocker. I have a good understanding of how that happened." We'd had a minder for that? I hadn't even noticed them, and that was impressive. "What I'd like to know instead is what you intend to do about it."

Right. I had some idea of a plan, but not any real details, so I'd be making it up as I went along. It'd be fine, probably. "I'll be taking it slower. Their biggest issue with me was that I was pushing them too hard and too fast, which is probably fair. I was used to getting thrown into the deep end, so I did the same with them and kind of overwhelmed them."

Piggot responded, "That was the impression I got from Aegis, yes." She had turned away from me and was typing at her personal terminal, and I got the impression that I didn't have her full attention, but I kept talking anyway. This was as much for me figuring out what I was going to do as it was for her benefit.

"I'll probably still focus on mobility and evasion first since we agreed that it was the priority, but I can go easier at the outset. Just because Vista managed to thrive in that kind of scenario doesn't mean everyone else will. After that… well, that'll probably take up most of it, to be honest, but I'll start tying in other things once they get good at it."

"I would ask what other things, but I suspect your answer would change with time anyway. That's all I need from you, so unless you have anything else?"

I almost left then and there, like she clearly wanted me too, but… "Actually, I had a couple of other questions that you might be able to help me with." She gave me a weathered, tired look. "I-If you don't mind, that is, I mean-"

"Out with it, Scatter."

Right then, here went nothing. "The Youth Guard. I've looked them up, and I have an idea of what they do, but I'd like details. I'd rather not draw their attention this way."

Piggot nodded. "That's certainly a sentiment that we share. It is primarily common sense, but they do have a handbook that I would recommend you read - you can ask Director Renick for a copy on your way out. Next question?"

"Assuming it won't bring them down on me, I want to arm the Ward-"

"No," the Director interrupted. "Kid Win excepted, arming children would be shooting ourselves in the foot, PR-wise." She held up a hand to cut off my complaint. "I'm aware that most of them can likely handle themselves on a firing range with training, but putting a firearm into the hands of a twelve-year-old girl in the field is crossing the line."

"They don't need to be firearms," I responded. "Crescent Rose has a railgun in it, but it's primarily a melee weapon." That was bending the truth a little, but it wasn't totally wrong, either. I didn't often use the gun for anything other than it's recoil. Ranged options were important, but not critical. Jaune had certainly managed well enough without adding a gun to his sword, no matter how many times I'd offered to upgrade it for him. "Tonfas, shortspears, grappling hooks, that kind of thing."

For once, that got Piggot pausing for thought. "...perhaps. I will not sign off on anything until you can prove to me that it will have positive results, but I'm at least willing to consider the idea on a case-by-case basis." The look she gave me while saying that ensured my knowledge that she would not be making those decisions lightly. "Next?"

This would be a hard sell, but it was also one of the most important things I needed to bring up. "Within a couple of weeks, I'd like to have the Wards run a field op." I spoke quickly so that I could get out what I had to say before the Director interrupted. "They'd have full Protectorate supervision, and it wouldn't be against anyone really dangerous, but getting a victory under their belts would be good for them."

To my surprise, Piggot took this one in stride. "This is something we've been attempting for some time, but there are very few good options. Most villains or villain groups that would be safe targets - Circus, Trainwreck, the Undersiders - are nearly impossible to pin down. Those that aren't usually get taken down by other villains before we manage to accomplish anything. If you find a solution to that problem, then we can work something out. Otherwise, I'm afraid we have very few combat opportu-

A flash of light caught my eye, bright enough to cast my shadow on the door. The pair of us looked outside the window to Piggot's office and spotted the source - a glowing speck hovering a solid two miles away, several hundred feet above what must have been the boardwalk. I rushed to the window and squinted, and was still barely able to make out the form of a woman in the center of the light. The double-helix of light that speared down from her out to sea a moment later, however, was a lot more obvious.

"Who is that?" I asked, squinting for a better look"...and why is she in the process of destroying the Rig's forcefield bridge?"

Piggot's phone started ringing. She answered me as she picked it up and held it to her ear with a shoulder, waking up her terminal with the other hand. "Purity. Former Empire Eighty-Eight member, one of the highest-rated Blasters on the east coast. As far as we were aware, she was ostensibly trying to be a hero. Renick? What's happening?" The director turned her attention to the phone, and I found myself running out her door. Whatever was happening, they would need me out there.

I got to the elevator door, Scattering through the crack and into the shaft instead of waiting for it to arrive. I threw myself into the wall after reforming on the other side, ran directly down the side of the shaft, counted the doors as I passed them, and repeated the process to exit on the second floor. In the three seconds it had taken me to move that distance, I'd mentally gone over everything I knew about Purity and the Empire, which wasn't very much. They were white supremacists, which I understood to be a little like a reverse White Fang with different prejudices. Too much to hope for a lack of Faunus to mean a lack of discrimination, I guessed. I'd heard a little about Purity, but I knew more from what I'd just seen than I did from anything else. Flight, glowing, and some kind of double-helix of light that was doing some pretty major damage to the bridge.

I rushed through the costume area, tracking down my locker and slamming it open as quickly as I could. A handful of seconds spent Scattered later, I was in full costume and running for the window. Remembering at the last second to avoid smashing through it, I tore open the curtains, popped the latch, and Scattered through an inch-wide crack before falling to the street.

Twenty seconds after leaving Piggot's office, I had a hand to my ear. "This is Scatter calling Protectorate Console from the PRTHQ. Where do you need me?"

Be careful what you wish for, Director.

This one wound up a little shorter than my usual. No real reason for that, it just didn't take long. I'm more happy with the second half than I am the first, but I can live with both of them. I can't wait to write these next couple of chapters though. This hasn't had nearly enough serious action for a RWBY fic lately (the Wards sparring doesn't really count).

Spacebattles is still gonna happen, I promise.

I think that's everything I've got for now, though. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next time!