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Weiss slammed her door behind her and stormed over to her bed, tossing her folders onto it and sitting, tucking a leg under her, to reread her financials for the fifth time. She heard her door open but only turned enough to see dark pants and a grey shirt before she turned back to reading.

"Numbers aren't quite adding up…?"

"They're adding fine." Weiss growled as Pyrrha sat beside her, resting a hand across her shoulders and rubbing a calming little circle into her back with a thumb. It was nice, and she took a breath to calm herself before she turned to show them to Pyrrha, explaining, "The issue is that they are adding to a subtraction."

"How big of a subtraction…?" Pyrrha hummed, reading over the reports and frowning thinly. "I'm not quite so good with maths like this as you are."

"You're fine." Weiss reassured her, reaching over to thumb to the last page where she'd been compiling her notations. "After all our repairs, we're eight hundred Lien in the hole. And that's after restricting our food onboarding budget."

"That's a dangerous risk…"

"I know." She sighed, "But I figured we could stay out longer. Hunt, forage, the like. I-It's certainly not ideal but-"

"It's workable." Pyrrha nodded, and it was only then that Weiss noticed the hand looped around her back, resting on her waist, and blushed brightly. Whether she saw it or not, Pyrrha withdrew, straightening Weiss' paperwork and turning to smile at her. "If we can afford to creep in a budget for some light rifles, that would be more than just workable."

"Rifles are-"

"Expensive, off the shelves." Pyrrha nodded, "But I know people to speak to for older models. They aren't as advanced, but… Well, you need advanced for Grimm. Not deer."

"That's… Fair, yes." She frowned turning back to her notes and running the numbers in her head. She wouldn't - couldn't - compromise on their fuel stores. That was skirting suicide so tightly as to be courting it outright. But, if she trimmed on their water and ration onboarding, which was risky itself but those could be found in the wildlands, then…

"One, with ammo." She sighed finally, "I can push one into the budget."

"Mine for larger prey," Pyrrha smiled, "and Yang with one for smaller. If she can hunt properly, it will keep us going."

Weiss nodded, sighed, and closed the folder. Pressing it against her head, she groaned, "Ugh… Why does it feel like everything is against us?"

"The world has stood against mankind for millennia, Weiss." Pyrrha chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. When she looked up, Pyrrha was close enough for her to smell the tea on her breath, and smiled warmly. Squeezing her shoulder, she said, "Together, mankind can prevail. Together, we can prevail."

Her words reminded Weiss of what she'd said in the hall, days ago, and…

Weiss flushed and ducked her head, nodding nervously, "R-Right. The, uh, four of us. Right?"

For a second, Pyrrha was quiet… Before she nodded and chuckled, "Of course. The fours of us. At least, until we expand more, hm?"

"Yeah." Weiss smiled, watching the woman stand and head towards the door. Stomach in her chest, she asked, "Uh, Pyrrha?"

"Yes?"

"What did you mean, the other-"

"Weiss!" The door suddenly flung in, Yang stumbling to a stop in the scarlet jumpsuit she wore for work and face streaked in grease. She saw Pyrrha, and Weiss' face, and blinked, backing up a step and scratching at her head absently. "Sorry, uh, captain! I just- There's someone here asking for you, Weiss."

"Someone is-"

"Who is possibly important enough to barge into your captain's quarters?" Pyrrha snapped, cutting her off sharply and crossing her arms at Yang.

"Uh…" The blonde blinked, "General Ironwood?"

"The General?!" Weiss squawked, shooting to her feet.

"W-Well… A messenger straight from him, yeah!" Yang chuckled awkwardly, flicking Pyrrha a nervous look Weiss didn't quite understand. Then she turned back to Weiss herself and stammered, "B-But if you two, uh, need a bit, then I can-"

"No!" Weiss stammered, already up and trying desperately to salvage the mess that was her hair. Shaking her head - and hissing when she pulled her hair accidentally doing it - she said, "Tell them to, uh, give me five minutes! I just got out of a shower-"

"You just got undressed for a shower." Pyrrha corrected her with a sigh, turning her and swatting her hands away so she could roughly brush her hair straight with her fingers and then tie it up into a loose, messy ponytail. "Your hair isn't wet, so you can't have been in a shower. If they aren't stupid, they would notice that. And having to get redressed buys you enough time."

"Right." She smiled, "Thank you, Pyrrha."

"I'll, uh, tell 'em you'll be out in a few." Yang chirped, turning to slip back out the door with her head ducked low.

"Done." Weiss turned and watched Pyrrha pulled out a nicer pair of pants and hold them out for her. They were worn and simple, dark grey things she used for work, but cleaner than the ones she was wearing so she took them and smiled. "Thank you, Pyrrha… Truly, I couldn't keep going without you."

The taller woman paused at that, halfway to turning for the door, and smiled slowly. Gently, she offered, "Of course, Weiss. I will always be by your side. So long as you allow it."

"How could I ever refuse you?" She asked, chuckling and waving for Pyrrha to go. "I'll be out in a moment. Please, make sure Yang doesn't do anything… Untoward, trying to buy time."

"Of course." Pyrrha chuckled, waving as she left.

Less than ten minutes later, Weiss came down the board-plank and smiled as she greeted the woman waiting to meet her. Offering her hand, she said, "Captain Schnee, a pleasure."

"Indeed." The woman nodded, shaking her hand and withdrawing, hands clasped behind her back. Unlike most, she wore a dark black uniform lined in bronze and missing most other identifiers. 'C. Soleil' was embossed onto a metal shoulder-guard she wore, alongside a single 'I', but that was it. "Ciel Soleil, representative of the SRC."

"SRC…?" Weiss blinked, brows furrowing, "I run the only SRC I've ever heard of."

"Oh yes, we're quite aware of you unwittingly stealing our short-hand. Be assured of that." The woman said, blinking lazily and drawing a small Scroll from her pocket while Weiss blinked. Holding it up, she explained, "The Special Reconnaissance Corps is drawn from multiple branches, and serves as an information aggregate source. We wear many hats, as some would say. Regardless, the General in Chief has dispatched me to offer you a mission."

"I see." Weiss hummed, frowning, "And that would be?"

"Escort duty support." She answered, "We need smaller ships to move ahead of a larger formation being dispatched on a Hunt."

"For what, exactly?"

"Classified." The woman answered sharply, holding the Scroll out. "This will have the details but, in brief - you're to keep an eye open for anomalous behavior in lesser Grimm and advance North-Westward. Atlesian control officers will ensure proper spacing of all light-recon auxiliaries, as well as support."

"It sounds fairly normal…" Weiss hummed, "But our group is hardly the most experienced, or trusted. Why us?"

"General Ironwood's decisions are final, and he said you could be trusted." She answered simply, "Will you accept the offer?"

"We will." Weiss said, taking the Scroll and nodding curtly. What other choice did she have? A job like this would pay a premium, enough to make the numbers add up properly. At least for a while. Frowning, she said, "We'll… Need some in advance, though."

"For what purpose…?"

"Our ship is a light one." Weiss explained quietly, "We needed defenses. A few light anti-air batteries, and a few security droids for any landings we're forced to make."

"You shouldn't need to make any landings…"

"No," Weiss nodded, "but then my entire family died in what should have been a safe zone, relatively speaking."

"...Reasonable." She sighed, paying Weiss a nod and turning to leave. "A preparatory stipend will be drawn from the final payment and disbursed. But understand that if you fail your mission, you will be required to pay it in full."

"I do." Weiss nodded again, "When do we need to be ready?"

"Three days." Soleil answered, "Full details are on the Scroll."

"Right…" Weiss sighed, turning to Yang as she stepped up to her side. Quietly, she said, "Have Ruby prepare a summary of what we can mount. Pyrrha?"

"Yes?"

"You mentioned people who can get their hands on weaponry…" When she turned, Pyrrha nodded, brows furrowing, and she asked, "How about what we need for defenses?"

"I shall see what I can manage."

"I can ask for little else." She smiled, "Thank you."

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The third morning after their meeting, Weiss' ship had been refitted as best they could manage on their limited budget. Three simple, bolt-on rotary guns were fitted to the outer hull, just below the railing towards the front end with the last one bolted directly over the engines at the rear. They were cheap things, with four rotary-barrels inside a barrel-shroud to protect them from Nevermore and the like clogging the rotation mechanisms. Each had four legs that stretched out along the hull, ending in the heavy bolts that kept them affixed with simple radar-dishes built just to the side of each, giving each turret a full radial radar cover - at least where the ship didn't block it. Their ammo-crates were inside the hull, with small feeds cut through it at the top, just below the main deck, that would keep the weapons running as long as their internal, dumb computer didn't detect too much heat.

Unfortunately, Pyrrha hadn't managed to find anyone selling worthwhile drones… Only servile units, that wouldn't do much at all in a fight. Still, she'd replaced her losses from the Polyphemian, and that would do.

"SRC vessel, are you reading?" The clipped sounding voice echoed out from the simple radio she'd been assigned for their job. It was an older military model, about as tall as Weiss' chest and with a bolted-down dish that automatically rotated to track its signal and transmit it through the bulky components in its dented, silver casing and out along the wire to Weiss' equally bulky headset.

"I hear you." She answered, reaching up to touch the little toggle on her left headphone that let her words carry over.

"Confirmed." The Atlesian controller chirped, "Please proceed to the launch-coordinates listed in your Scroll and hold. Dispatch will relay launch orders in five minutes."

"Understood." She nodded, adding nervously, "Thank you."

"Confirmed."

"Weiss…" Pyrrha sighed around a chuckle, "You don't have to thank the military coordinator."

"It's good manners!"

"As you say." Pyrrha chuckled, walking past her to lean on the railing and watch Yang oversee the droids below. Flicking her hair she added a sardonic, "Captain."

Weiss just rolled her eyes.

Around them, Weiss finally noticed the… Space that had been made for them. Miles wide and tall, the airspace had been cleared of all but about three dozen ships in two long, curved lines. Smaller ones, like her own, were positioned on the forward line and far to the flanks. Moderately larger ones made up the front and center of the formation, all older models of outmoded Atlesian transport craft painted a variety of colors and fitted with a variety of weapons whose vague shapes she could make out even if she couldn't quite see well enough to tell what they were. A few even flew flags she couldn't make out and, among them, two were solar-sail ships like her own, albeit much larger. The proverbial cruiser to her corvette. In the center of the second ran, though, were true, proper, modern Atlesian warships, blocky and imposing even at this range.

"What on Remnant are they looking for…" She murmured, "Those could house hundreds of soldiers besides the crewmen manning them."

"They did imply there was something down there that they were worried over." Pyrrha offered, watching the ships with her for a moment before she shrugged and turned back to watching Yang. "Whatever the case, it is not our concern, is it? We have our duties."

"True, but…" Weiss hummed, "I don't know. It just feels strange, somehow."

"Should I have the sisters be on their guard…?"

"No." She answered instantly, not wanting to worry them. Then she reconsidered and frowned. "Actually… Actually, yes. I want their eyes open and I want them to be paying close attention while we do this. If something strange is afoot…"

"We shall see it coming, and react properly."

"Exactly." She smiled and nodded, "Everyone makes it home, Pyrrha. That's the goal."

"Indeed."

"Captain Schnee, your ship is designated Schnee-One for the length of operation." The handler said suddenly, voice crackling just a bit in her ear from where Weiss had stepped further away to look out at the assembly of ships. When they spoke again, their voice was more tinny, somehow, and echoed faintly. "All vessels - match speed and head bearing North by North-West, and angle upward at four degrees. You will be notified when to level. All vessels, command confirm."

"Schnee One, complying." She answered, "Moving now."

The next fifteen minutes were fascinating, at least for Weiss. Their formation was ad-hoc, formed up of as many purely civilian units pressed into service as military, confirmed by their failure to match formation as cohesively as the handler clearly wanted. That fed Weiss' paranoia, but she ignored it, focusing instead on the experience of being a part of a greater movement. She accelerated and decelerated, pitched up and down, and worked to maintain formation with the handler's guidance while she listened to them directing every other ship in the same way.

Finally, though, their fleet found its cohesion and the handler's voice steadily shifted from issuing positioning orders to issuing updates.

"Weiss…" Pyrrha spoke, resting a hand on her shoulders. "Look at that."

Turning, Weiss followed her pointing finger.

In the distance, maybe ten miles away and half as many down, was a massive formation of ships. Most of them were small, little dots swarming in little groups as they moved up and down from the surface, seeing to whatever tasks they were working on. The smaller ships swarmed around huge, square barge-ships with tall sails and wings reaching out from their rears. They were older ships, she knew from her studies. Freight lifters and mass evacuation barges as old as Uplift itself had been, in most cases, rebuilt and modified to house much of the Faunus population. All under the watchful gaze of the long, wooden warship Atlas had given them at the same time, floating above it all like an ancient sailor's legends, with six gargantuan solar sail wings and three towering masts each as long as her ship was protruding from wood so dark it seemed like it had descended from the night itself. It had been the flagship of the force sent to save what could be saved of Menagerie's people, a century ago.

The Black Fang.

"Menagerie." Weiss murmured, watching several of the small ships move ahead of the fleet to meet a handful of Giant Nevermore that had come for them.

"It's impressive, is it not?" Pyrrha hummed, "How the Faunus have adapted without so much of Atlas' aid."

"You say while they linger less than fifty miles away, in the shadow of one of our warships…"

"We must dwell on the station, subject to its flaws and laws." Pyrrha argued gently, turning to give her a smile. "They do not. All I am saying is that it is… Impressive, how adaptable they are."

"I suppose." Weiss shrugged, unsure, exactly, of how she felt. "I suppose it's somewhat difficult for me to judge them fairly…"

"I know your family has had conflicts with them."

"Conflicts?" Weiss laughed bitterly, "It's been as close to war as any man or woman on Remnant has seen since Uplift."

"It has gone that far…?"

"It has." Weiss hummed, watching the distant fleet warily. "Keep an eye on them, Pyrrha. If any brak for us…"

"We shall add ships to our fleet?"

"Ambitious, aren't we?"

"Oh, Weiss." Pyrrha chuckled, turning to lean back against the railing and shooting her a toothy smile. "You have no idea how far my ambitions may reach."

Weiss blinked and opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by the handler's voice crackling in her ear. "Schnee-One, we're detecting large motion above you. Four figures which match Grimm readings on long-range."

"Grimm." Weiss grunted for Pyrrha's sake, turning as the redhead rushed down the stairs to warn the others. "Size?"

"Moderate." She answered, "Menagerie vessels report Giant Nevermore in the air, and the size we're reading fits that. Do you need support?"

"If it's available."

"A-firm." The handler answered, "We are prepping long range shrapnel shells to fire above you. Beware of falling debris."

"Got it." Weiss nodded, turning as Pyrrha came back up the stairs and relaying the information.

Pyrrha had only taken three steps back down the stairs when the air over their heads screamed as explosives went off, high above them. The thick, dark clouds hanging high above them exploded in light and fury where the rounds went to work. And, from it, two huge figures tumbled away, trailing feathers and bone and smoke. Another Giant Nevermore descended from the destruction, trailing dark smoke and screaming so far above her Weiss couldn't hear it. Wings burning, it couldn't hold itself aloft, and it fell by as the gun on her port side opened up, too stupid to notice it was already defeated.

The last, though, survived, smoldering along its back and wings broke through the ash and smoke to come for them.

"Schnee-One, how was delivery?"

"Good." She answered, "One is left. We're going to have to leave formation to handle it."

"Reason?"

"I want to point head-on to bring both my forward guns against it."

"Confirmed." The handler grunted, "Permission granted."

Weiss didn't answer, instead angling up and to the right at an angle so sharp she had to lean to the side to keep upright. She managed to dodge the Nevermore's dive, though, and her portside gun opened fire as it went, raking it with light shrapnel rounds. The monster bellowed and Weiss heard her rear gun open up as well as she angled down and to her left, dodging an attack she knew to expect. Feathers as long as Weiss herself was tall ripped through the air they'd just occupied, coming apart as the dumb autogun on that side ripped into any motion that read as 'non-human'.

"Brace!" She bellowed, hearing Pyrrha call it out moments later to make sure everyone heard.

She waited two seconds before she turned, hard to the right. So hard she had to draw Myrtenaster and summon a Glyph to keep her footing, flickering under her as it fought her lack of focus. The Nevermore shot alongside, its ramming attack missing thanks to her maneuever and her nose came around. Now, both her forward guns opened fire, ripping into its already smoldering, pitted back as it tried to dive and Weiss followed. Finally, its wing came away and it fell, spinning and roaring morosely as it went, and Weiss levelled her ship out.

"Schnee-One, status?"

"I'm about to find out." She answered, turning as Pyrrha joined her and asking, "Can you get a report on our solar sails and engines from Ruby?"

"I will right away, Captain."

"Thanks." She nodded, opening the comm-line again as she levelled out and going on. "I have my engineer checking our status, but nothing seems wrong. Can you help us manuever back into position?"

"Confirmed, adjust-" Suddenly, the ship lurched and Weiss felt a tremor run through it. Turning, she looked over the rear of her ship where smoke trailed away from the engine deck and the handler asked, "Schnee-One, are you there?"

"I am." She swore under her breath, "Something is wrong with our engine. We just replaced a Dust core and I think I blew it out…"

"Older-model engines struggle." The handler reported, "Did you replace them all, or just the one?"

"The one."

"Compatibility might be out." They said, "Or maybe the new core provided more power."

"Either way," Weiss frowned, "we can't return to formation."

"Acknowledged. Attrition was accounted for, and formation plans are in effect. Fall back to coordinates four-eight-nine-eleven, to your East directly. Another ship has suffered damage to sails and will be landing at a known clearing, you should see it easily enough. Atlesian support craft will task to you with supplies when available." The handler reported, "Atlas thanks you, and wishes you luck. Payment will be divided in full once operations are completed."

"Minus the price for parts, I assume…"

"On a reduced rate, naturally."

"Right…" She sighed, "Thank you."

They'd only made it a third of the way, but…

Well, it sounded like they'd planned to lose ships like this. And, as she turned, she could just make out another ship already falling back behind the line. One of the forward ones. A third fell back with it, either as partners or simply because it, too, had been damaged. Both were still fending off Nevermore circling them and, for a moment, Weiss considered whether to help. But then another shudder rocked her ship and she frowned, turning to head towards the coordinates she'd been given.

"Weiss." Pyrrha grunted when she returned, face smeared by grease that explained why she'd taken so long, "The new Dust core overloaded, took a coolant pipe with it. We have it handled, but…"

"We've been ordered out of formation." She nodded, ignoring the pained look on Pyrrha's face. "We're to rendezvous with another crippled support ship and await resupply. I'll need you and Yang on guard duty when we do."

"Right." She nodded, "I'll pass the word out."

"Thank you."

Frowning, she watched Pyrrha head back down the stairs once more and shook her head. She was certain the model of Dust core she and Ruby had gotten had been a perfect match… Maybe the handler was right and it was just due to age? The older cores had worn down a bit, and she'd pushed the engines hard for her manoeuvre? But what else could she have done - take the hits and risk losing her sails, or worse? It was a no win scenario, she supposed…

Gods, she was growing weary of those.

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Adam Taurus looked down along the length of his crimson blade, checking its edge before humming and bringing it back down, gently wiping it clean around the hilt. The sword was, of course, already clean. And freshly sharpened, too. But it was almost… Therapeutic, to simply sit in his cabin, listening to the wind whistling around his ship, and work on his sword. If he had the time, he would disassemble the sheath and firing mechanism, too. The stars knew it needed it, but the parts were always so expensive, he was always hesitant to open it up. He knew he'd find something just the least bit off and his perfectionism would scream for its replacement, funds be damned.

"Adam."

"Ilia." He hummed in answer, not even turning to face the door. "Report."

"The Dust-core's charge went off, as planned, according to our asset." She reported quietly, "The Schnee's ship is damaged and limping to rendezvous with another and wait for support."

"You have the coordinates?"

"I do." She nodded, "And if both ships are relatively intact, we should be able to take them quickly if we prepare the vanguard now."

It was a sound suggestion, and an order he'd been about to give as it was. So he only hummed and nodded, asking instead, "And Blake?"

"Back on Kuo, with her parents." She answered, "Trying to drum up more support, as you requested."

"Ordered." He corrected her without turning. Ilia didn't answer, but he knew she'd heard and accepted the correction. Without Blake here, she wouldn't dare argue with him. Few would, which was one of a few upsides to her absence - although without her, many would also lose some of their drive. Quietly, he said, "Support from the royal family is important, after all…"

"It is, Sir."

"I want you to lead the vanguard on the other ship." He finally ordered, sheathing his sword and standing with a sigh. Rolling his shoulder, he grunted, "I will take the Schnee personally."

"If I may, Sir…"

He raised his eyebrow at the boldness to suggest anything, but he was in a good mood, and she knew him well enough to tell. So, with a shrug, he said, "You may, as long as whatever you mean to suggest is something worthwhile."

"I-I know you were looking for ways to make this more sensible, to Blake at least…" He nodded and, nervousness written across her face, the younger Faunus said, "If you let the others serving on the Schnee ship live, and take the ship, then… Then she can't be too angry with you. It wouldn't make sense."

"How so…?"

"She's afraid you're becoming too brutal." The woman shrugged, staring into the floor as he stepped past her and turned, looming over her. It was a pitiful test of her willpower, he knew, but if she couldn't stomach a staredown while she suggested her ideas, then they wouldn't be worth hearing. "But if you take resources and spare people who are just in the way… How can she argue that you are?"

It was a fair point, even if he would rather mount every Schnee servant's head on a tree and be done with it. As much of a thorn as Blake could be, sometimes, she was capable of being just as much of a boon, and a mild concession to keep her on side might not be too painful. Depending on what he decided in the moment, of course.

Quietly, he nodded, "...I will consider it. Now go, and see the men prepared."

"Yes, Sir." She nodded, turning and stalking out of the room stiffly.

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