(A/N): So, RWBY's owned by Viz Media now, eh? That's pretty neat! Here's hoping we get to hear some more news soon! …eh? What's that? We're still waiting for news on Volume 10? Yeah, that tracks honestly. Well, at least RWBY has a new home!

In all seriousness, I am both very sorry for going on break for this long, and extremely glad that I did. I hadn't realized just how long I'd been "on" when it came to writing, to the point that I was so busy with one-shots and sequel plans that I never actually did rest after finishing Destiny's Divide. Considering that I wrote a grand total of almost four hundred thousand words in 2023 alone, with very little downtime between projects and stories…honestly, it's a miracle I didn't burn out sooner. So taking several months away from any kind of schedule for this fic absolutely helped with my mental and emotional health, and gave my creative juices some much-needed time to simmer.

Not to say that I was completely unproductive. I put up a few sporadic updates for Rank Up, my Blue Archive yuri fluff story over on AO3, and I also chipped away at chapters in this story whenever the mood struck me. I also spent some time reworking a few future plot threads for Acts 2 and 3 of Dutiful Destruction, which will hopefully make a more satisfying story overall. But otherwise I had a near-zero desire to put words to page for pretty much the whole summer, writing when I felt like it instead of feeling like I had to write. And it was…nice. Relaxing, refreshing, reinvigorating. It's safe to say that I'd been putting waaaay too much pressure on myself, and it felt extremely relieving to turn that off for a few months. But it's also safe to say that I missed this story, all the characters and their plots and all the ideas that I'm bursting at the seams to tell here. So with another batch of chapter drafts in the queue, along with a clearer mind and a brighter spirit than ever before, I think it's safe to say we'll be back in business until at least the end of Act 2!

Anyway, time to shake off the hiatus cobwebs with a bang! We're starting strong with another "Reconstructing Remnant" event, this one solely from Oscar's POV! In contrast to Whitley's Dustfruits discovery back in chapter 14, which was short and sweet and easy to dream up, this one went through multiple plans and permutations before finally crystallizing into a 24k word monster. It's one of the biggest and toughest chapters I've written so far, longer than even that adventure with Team NDGO back in Chapter 8, yet it's absolutely one of my favorites in the entire story so far. I hope you enjoy reading it half as much as I enjoyed writing it!

"…so that's the general idea. Any questions?"

Oscar had many, many questions regarding the plan Azina and Maria had just spent the last hour explaining to the small crowd inside the Vacuo City Council chambers. He could tell he wasn't the only one with doubts or concerns; the Headmaster of Shade was scratching at his goatee, Rumpole had her head cocked to the side, Robyn's eyes were full of both hope and doubt, and Winter's gaze was somehow even frostier than usual. Even the Bara Manga Outreach Committee members present - Raanu, Metus, Ackar, and Gelu - bore uncertain expressions as their glowing eyes clicked with each blink.

Only Yang, who was sitting between a fascinated Ghira and an intrigued Blake, seemed to accept everything at face value.

"So basically we take Amity Tower, strap it to an alien rocket, and launch it into orbit around Remnant." The blonde brawler shrugged. "I'd say that all sounds easy enough, but I'd rather not eat my own foot."

Maria snickered. "I knew there was a reason I liked you, kid."

"Just one?" Yang grinned.

"It's certainly…ambitious," admitted Raanu after a moment. "I'll be honest, Azina…when you said you and Maria had a plan involving the Ark's booster rocket, this isn't quite what I had in mind. You're certain this will work?"

Azina rolled her glowing crimson eyes. "I've done the math over sixty times already, Father. The booster rocket will act as both a propellant and a power source for Amity Satellite, at least until the solar panels gather enough charge to -"

"I don't think that's what Raanu's worried about," said Ghira, cutting the engineer off before she could go through her calculations yet again. "Rather, I think his main concern is that you'll be on the shuttle steering Amity into space. Not because he doubts the logistics, but because he's scared for your safety."

Raanu blinked exactly. "Yes…exactly. Thank you, Mister Belladonna."

The panther Faunus nodded in understanding. "As someone with a brilliant daughter myself, I empathize."

Blake sighed. "Oh, Dad…"

"I get it, Father," said Azina. "But I won't be the only one going up there, remember? The shuttle we built is big enough for a crew of six; Perditus has already volunteered to run the programs Amity needs to start up, while Crotesius, Kirbraz and Scodonius practically jumped at the chance to fly together in their newest invention. There's enough hands on deck to course-correct if anything goes wrong…especially if Oscar's on board with, well, being on board."

And there it was. The biggest Goliath in the room, one that had left him fidgeting in his seat ever since it came up. If the silence in his head was any indication, Ozpin was just as unnerved as him - never a good sign. Everyone turned and looked at him, as if they were expecting an answer, and he wasn't sure if he had one they wanted to hear.

Oscar gathered his courage and took a breath. "Why are you asking me to be part of that crew, especially with so many other pilots better suited for the task? Take Maria, for instance - she's better with machines than I'll ever be, and I thought for sure that she'd be your first choice."

"Appreciate the vote of confidence, but the Dust in my lenses won't work once we leave the atmosphere." The woman with mechanical eyes sighed. "Same reason we'll need to strip all the circuits out of the tower itself and replace it with those weird copper wires. If I go into space, I'll literally be flying blind…not exactly a good pick for Azina's crew."

Azina nodded, then looked at Oscar with an almost pleading expression. "There's also the fact that due to your…unique situation, you have more knowledge and experience than everyone else in Vacuo put together. I'll feel a lot better with someone who knows almost as much as a Magnan on the team, helping us get the station into its orbital path. One of your past lives was even a pilot, yes?"

The freckled farmhand frowned. "Well, yes, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I -"

"Then I can't think of a better human for this mission than you, Oscar. Its a momentous occasion for your world, after all - your people deserve to be part of it."

Metus chortled from his seat over in the corner. "Not to mention that if anything happens to you, we can just expect you to turn up somewhere else in someone else's head. That's how your reincarnation thing works, right? So you could say that you're the most expendable human here."

Everyone glared at the Ice Tribe merchant. Yang's eyes in particular snapped from violet to burning crimson. Oscar felt his heart sink, even as Metus coughed awkwardly.

"…I mean, you could say that if you were completely heartless," he said with about a tenth of his usual confidence. "Which I'm not. Obviously."

"It's a solid enough plan," said Theodore in some effort to get the conversation back on track. "But it'll take a lot of coordination and security to make it work, especially with the location you've picked out to make it all happen. You're sure we can't set up this launch site somewhere closer?"

"Not unless you want this city to choke on smoke, ash, and rocket fumes for the next few months," said Azina pointedly. "The booster rocket's small compared to the Ark's former engines, but it's still a barely-controlled explosion that generates a lot of heat and exhaust. If we set that off anywhere close to either Vacuo or the Ark, or any other settlements across the desert…well, it won't be pretty, I'll tell you that much."

"I was afraid of that." The Headmaster of Shade grimaced. "In that case, we'll need to prep for a huge venture that plows straight into Grimm territory. Caravan trucks big and beefy enough to haul everything out there, dune runners on patrol around the convoy, Hunters and Glatorians and anyone else crazy enough to crew all the cars…we're talking about a lot of manpower and machinery here, just to get about a few hundred miles into the Wastelands, and that'll make us an easy target for those damn mutts."

"There's no way Fiona can pack that much stuff away with her Semblance for safe transport," agreed Robyn with a nod. "We can't just fly Amity out there, either - without enough ships to make an escort fleet, she'll be a sitting duck that every winged Grimm in the desert will want a piece of. And if all that math is any indication, getting that far into the desert will be the easy part. If anything goes wrong…if we lose Amity, either down here or up there, we won't have the resources to try again."

"Then we'll just have to make sure we get it right the first time," said Maria, sighing yet again. "I know it's a big gamble, especially without Pietro to lend his genius…but it's our best shot at getting the CCT network up and running again for the whole world, and at making sure Salem or her lackeys can't just bring it down again. Remember how everything changed pretty much overnight when Ruby sent out a three-minute message to all of Remnant? Just imagine what having that kind of connectivity again, permanently, will do."

That was a solid point, one compelling enough for everyone gathered to consider such an otherwise-insane plan. Blake and Yang met each other's gazes with meaningful nods, while Rumpole whispered something into Theodore's ear. As the others around him started murmuring and talking amongst themselves, Oscar furrowed his brow and tightened his grip on Long Memory's pommel. Just the act of squeezing the rounded cane head brought some measure of calmness to both himself and his ever-present mental passenger, but it wasn't enough to completely dispel the uncertainty welling up within him.

It never was.

"I can't be part of your flight crew, Azina," he finally said after a long moment of hushed debate. "There's too many things that could go wrong with me being up there, and the reincarnation process isn't as…efficient as you seem to think it is. If Vacuo loses me in particular, it would make safeguarding the remaining Relics a lot harder, to say nothing of the panic my death would cause. So I have to disagree with that part of the plan. I'm sorry."

The Jungle Tribe Agori looked dismayed, but not surprised. "I understand, Oscar. If that's the sticking point, we can always find another pilot. Can we count on you to help oversee the convoy and mission, at least?"

This time he nodded with no hesitation. "I think I speak for both of us when I say it'd be an honor. The plan to launch this…Amity Satellite…has my full support otherwise."

"It's got mine as well," boomed Theodore. "I'm sure we can find enough hands to make this work."

"Well, we are sitting down the street from a school full of Hunters-in-training," said Yang with a wry smirk. "Count me in."

"Count us in," added Blake. "We got Amity into the sky once before - we can do it again, and even better this time."

"It'll definitely be nice to have contact with the rest of Remnant again," said Robyn. "Let's make it happen."

"Ruby's message to the world is the entire reason we left Mistral to help," announced Ghira. "The Faunus Rights Movement pledges their full support."

"As does the Bara Magna Outreach Committee," promised Raanu, to Azina's visible delight. "Every Glatorian that can hold a sword is yours to assign as you see fit."

Gelu smirked behind his helmet. "Protecting caravans of space stuff going out into the middle of the desert…sounds like it'll be just like old times. Right, Ackar?"

Ackar nodded, then drew Emberflare and bowed while extending the crimson sword. "If it's for the betterment of your world, I cast my sword with yours."

"Always the old-fashioned one." Metus leaned back in his seat with an amused smile, casting a glance at Winter. "Sounds like we've got a consensus, at any rate…does our resident magical warrior want to make it unanimous?"

The Maiden in the room seethed for a moment, then stood up. "I have no objections," she said tersely. "Send me the coordinates of the launch site, and I'll make sure the area is clear before the trucks arrive. I'll leave all remaining logistics to the rest of you - since you clearly seem to know what you're doing."

With that, the eldest Schnee turned on her heel and stormed out of meeting chambers, making a point of slamming the door behind her. Considering that said doors were twice as tall and heavy as herself, that was no small feat…and it made her true feelings on the matter quite apparent.

Metus frowned. "Jeez…sounds like someone needs to de-frag their internal hard drive. Humans have one of those, right?"

"Not that I've seen," mused Azina. "Is…everything okay with her? She seems angry…angrier than usual, at least."

"Launching Amity Tower and centralizing the CCT network was supposed to be General Ironwood's big plan to save Remnant," said Blake pointedly, ears drooping. "Before, well…everything else happened…"

Yang's non-metal hand trembled even as it reached for her partner's palm. Robyn's gaze lingered wistfully on the oaken doors. Maria's mechanical eyes narrowed. Oscar's chest itched with the phantom pain of a high-powered bullet, one that had cut two friendships short in a single shot to signal the end of Atlas.

Azina seemed to sense just how gloomy the room had gotten, because she put on her brightest and most hopeful smile. "Then we'll make sure to honor his memory, as well as all who were lost with his Kingdom. If this was the last big dream of Atlas…it would be our honor to bring it to the stars."

It was a beautiful sentiment, one that Oscar was almost ready to believe.

He just hoped that Ozpin's current silence wasn't a bad omen in and of itself.

A few stressful days and sleepless nights later, it was time to do the impossible.

After a quick breakfast of roasted Dustfruits and coffee with more cream than boiled beans, Oscar ventured out of the city walls and made his way towards the closest truck. Well, calling it a "truck" felt like an understatement; if it existed anywhere but Vacuo, it would've been called a tank, or a war machine, or even a giant twisted monster of titanium and rust. The twenty-foot-long, fifteen-foot-tall vehicle in front of him had eight wheels as wide as Oscar was tall, a frame cobbled together out of whatever scrap metal was available, two engines under the grill that growled idly, dusty windows in the cabin that overlooked the surrounding desert from a lofty perch, a belt-fed machine gun turret built above the passenger side door, and a plow at the front with sharpened steel spikes. It was currently hitched to a flatbed trailer three times its length, one that was already straining under the weight of its cargo - of which only half had been loaded so far.

All around him, other Hunters and Magnans worked to inspect their own vehicles for the journey ahead. Four more caravan trucks were lined up single-file and crawling with crew, trailers already loaded and grills shimmering in the emerald-gold sunrise. He could pick out components of both the launch site and the disassembled Amity Tower among their cargo, tied down with steel cables and covered in protective tarps for the long journey. Fleets of armored six-wheeled dune runners flanked each towering beast of steel and smoke, as well as a handful of ruggedized sand-cycles squeezed into the sparse gaps. Loud thrums and rumbling engines formed a tuneless symphony of sound for those behind them, while the smell of discharging Combustion Dust wafted through the air and tinged every breath with a bitter (but not unpleasant) aroma.

The vehicles gathered around the last truck in the lineup - Jade truck, according to the plans - were full of familiar faces, many of which Oscar had picked out himself. The girls of Team NDGO (minus their leader at the moment) were fueling up their dune runner alongside Kiina and May Marigold, while SSSN and Nolan were helping Gelu load crates of ammo and Dustfruits into the hardened car's trunk. Joanna had planted her staff into the sand and chosen to lean against it, studying the holographic map on her Scroll with a furrowed brow. Gresh listened excitedly as Team ABRN gave him a brief rundown of how a dune runner worked - a stark contrast to Ackar, who mostly just looked lost and confused as CFVY attempted to do the same. And Blake watched from the side as Yang and Ilia worked the undercarriage of a chunky-looking sand-cycle, while Emerald sat on the other two-wheeled desert motorcycle and did her best not to stare at the sleeveless chameleon Faunus. The sight of so many friends helped put him at ease, and gave him hope that the journey before them would be a safe one.

But he knew better than to hope for that too hard.

"So, what do you think?" Ilia asked after she and the blonde brawler crawled out from under the purring sand-cycle. "Will she work for you and Blake?"

"Eh, she's no Bumblebee, but she'll do just fine." Yang wiped her brow and inadvertently smudged it with the oil stain on her prosthetic. "Sure there's no time to paint her black and yellow, though? Or add a rocket launcher or two?"

"You can think about that when we get back," answered Ilia with a soft laugh. "Assuming you don't crash this one out there, too."

Yang pouted. "Aw, come on. I'm not that bad with bikes."

Neptune looked over with a tilt of his head. "Didn't you almost drive me into traffic that one time?"

"Hey, you're the one who jumped off to stab a giant robot! You can't pin that one on me! Plus I didn't crash!"

"Then what about when you launched Bumblebee off a cliff and straight into a river?" quipped Blake, her grin growing. "Pretty sure she's still sitting there outside Argus, gathering rust and algae."

"I rammed her into Adam to save you, remember? Besides, that was all just with one set of wheels - I didn't wreck the hover-bike, did I? Oscar, back me up here."

The freckled farm hand sighed, then smiled. They had some time to kill, what with their truck not fully loaded up just yet, so where was the harm in just chatting? Not like the caravan was going anywhere, especially without the all-important booster rocket.

"You didn't crash it, but I distinctly remember your more…reckless driving." The memory of a mouthful of blonde hair washed over him. "And I didn't see it with you when you rescued me from Monstra, so I can only assume you left it behind. If it's not underwater right now, it's most certainly still exposed to the elements."

"So in other words, I think I'd better drive for once," joked Blake.

Yang threw her hands into the air. "Oh, what is this? Did someone decide today was 'pick on the blonde' day without telling me?"

"That's pretty much every day for our team," said Octavia as she clasped Dew on the shoulder.

"Same here!" chirped Sun.

May laughed as she double-checked the suspension on NDGO's dune runner. "You kids think you're bad drivers? I've seen Robyn manage to crash a transport out in fields of flat, ankle-deep snow. Our boss can do anything except drive in a straight line…you can attest to that, right Jo?"

The green-haired giantess chuffed with a smile of her own, looking up from the charted route. "Damnedest thing, yeah. Put her in the pilot seat and she can make any aircraft fly like a bird, but get her behind the wheel of anything with tires and she'll leave a smoldering wreck behind. Pot holes, street signs, traffic drones, curbs…if it's anywhere near the road, it's not safe. Least she managed to avoid pedestrians."

"Sounds a lot like Berix's short-lived stunt as an arena driver back home," said Kiina with a chuckle. "His match against Perditus put an end to that pretty quickly - if you can even call it a fight in the first place, considering his chariot took more damage from the walls than the Thornatus…"

Reese's eyes lit up. "Wait, hold on. You guys fought each other with cars, too?!"

"Only when there weren't Glatorians like us available to settle disputes in proper matches," explained Ackar, having fully given up trying to understand Coco's demonstration of a stick shift. "Sometimes Agori would bring vehicles of their own design into the arena, either to resolve conflicts or for just the sport of it. Back when we held the Great Tournaments at Atero, there was an entire division just for drivers and pilots. Wasn't as popular as the melee matches, but they still had their following - especially since they were a lot less supervised and structured."

Velvet paled from her spot atop the dune runner hood. "That…doesn't sound safe."

"It wasn't," deadpanned Gelu. "Speaking of those mad bastards, when are they bringing the shuttle and rocket around? Not that I don't enjoy the chatter, but we've got a schedule to keep…"

"Jaune and Nebula just got into local Scroll range now," reported Emerald as she looked up from her glowing rectangle. "Considering the little guys are with them, they can't be too far off."

"I feel vibrations, too," reported Gwen. "They should be coming from…" She pointed to the west, away from the rising sun. "That way."

Sure enough, a few moments later the idle chatter was interrupted by the roaring of alien engines. Soon a silvery-blue, spike-covered motorcycle with a two-wheeled sidecar emerged from the ever-pervasive cloud of dust, towing the all-important shuttle behind it on chains and a sled. It was followed by another bike, this one with blades in the front and treads in the back, which in turn was followed closely by a dune runner hauling the biggest jet engine Oscar had ever seen in his life. As they came closer, he could see the occupants of each vehicle - two Water Tribe Agori on the first, a Fire Tribesman on the second, and two Hunters standing in the back of the third with glowing Auras.

"Well, how about that?" Gresh chuckled. "Looks like they rebuilt the Kaxium and the Cendox out of stuff on your world. I should be surprised…and yet, somehow, I'm not."

"…I wanna drive one."

"Reese, no. Down girl."

"Aw, c'mon Arls. You never let me do anything fun."

"I wouldn't exactly call 'trying to figure out an alien bike' fun."

"What else would you call it?!"

Before the debate could continue between the enraptured daredevil and her exasperated team leader, a message pinged on everyone's Scroll as Maria's face came into view.

"Sorry to keep you waiting!" called the old Huntress through at least a dozen tinny speakers. "Clear the way to Jade Truck, everyone - booster rocket, incoming!"

Oscar wisely stepped back alongside everyone else, watching as the dune runner pulled ahead of the two alien bikes and slid to a stop. The dust settled to reveal Jaune and Nebula standing in the back, the former putting his glowing hands on the latter's shoulders as both grit their teeth and flared their Auras. A shadow passed over everyone as the booster rocket - for what else could something so large be? - levitated overhead while suspended in an anti-gravity field, one that the violet-haired Huntress strained to control and guide over to the waiting trailer.

"Easy does it…" coached Jaune in a strained whisper. "A little more to the left…a couple inches forward…right there, that's perfect! Bring her down, nice and easy…"

It clearly took a lot of exertion on Nebula's part, to move something so large with such precise movements, but with the young Arc's Semblance boosting hers it was almost doable. The sixty-foot-long booster rocket floated down gently and slowly toward an open spot in the flatbed, filling a gap between the steel crates that the Magnans loading the truck had clearly left intentionally. Only once it was in place did those same workers move in to strap the massive conical construct in place, at which point Nebula finally let down her arms and released her hold over the rocket. The truck bed lurched and creaked with the sudden change in weight, but it didn't buckle…somehow.

Vacuo engineering really is something else, Oscar concluded.

Jaune panted and almost doubled over alongside Nebula, cutting the flow of Aura to his hands and patting her shoulder. "Nice work, Nebs…great job hauling it all the way here from the Ark. Got enough juice to get the shuttle loaded up?"

"Gimme a few minutes and a whole gravity-flavored melon," gasped the exhausted Huntress, "and I might say 'yes.'"

"Heh…I think we can do that. Ladies?"

"Already on it. C'mon, Tav. Gwen, grab the canteen."

While Team NDGO went to support their leader, Oscar took a moment to study the newest cargo being delivered. The shuttle itself looked like a repurposed Manta aircraft, with a bulbous cockpit and sweeping wings and a teardrop-shaped body. His experiences with the craft let him see the modifications instantly: the hull and visor had been reinforced with metals scavenged from the Ark, small non-Dust-powered guidance thrusters were rigged up and strung along the wings, and the missile batteries near the front had been stripped out and replaced with clusters of oxygen canisters. Azina's team had clearly worked hard to convert one of Atlas's few surviving gunships into a space-worthy vessel, and he had to applaud the ingenuity involved - even if the sight of it brought back some unpleasant memories.

That same level of familiarity didn't carry over for the shuttle's much, much larger cousin. In truth, the booster rocket looked more like an alien skyscraper than something suited for space travel, with sharp angular surfaces and sweeping curves and golden mirror-like panels. One look at the six conical exhaust jets arranged at the base of the tower, however, revealed its true nature - it was a huge, powerful engine capable of tearing free from Remnant's atmosphere and reaching the stars, fueled by technologies and processes he could never have imagined.

It was more advanced than anything humanity had put together to reach the stars, and yet this was all they could do with it.

Still, the scale of the project was daunting when face-to-face with some of its smallest aspects. "That is…a lot bigger than Azina made it seem during her initial pitch," said Oscar with an audible gulp.

"You should see the plans for the other one she found in that old lab," said the Fire Tribe Agori - Crotesius, he remembered. "Apparently this booster rocket was just a test model, a little proof of concept, and the real thing was supposed to be about the size of your moon. Couldn't find any traces of it in the surrounding ruins beyond blueprints, though…guess the Great Beings never got a chance to build it before the Shattering."

One of the Water Tribesmen shrugged as he unhooked the chains around the shuttle. "At least this one's functional, eh? We'd be in a worse place if it wasn't. C'mon, Kirbraz - let's go meet back up with Azina at the front while the humans get ready to move the shuttle."

His partner sighed. "You know, Scods, there's this great new pastime called 'sitting and waiting.' You should really try it sometime."

"Now that just sounds boring. Pass."

Oscar laughed softly as the Agori departed on vehicles of their own design, then swiped on his Scroll to rejoin the convoy-wide call. "Shade Control, this is Jade Truck," he reported with a shadow of a smile. "The rocket is strapped in, and the shuttle's soon to follow. We'll be ready to leave in a few minutes."

"Then it sounds like now would be a good time to get the rest of the caravan moving," boomed the Headmaster of Shade. "Metus, connect me with all the channels on the line at once."

"Already on it."

All throughout the convoy, the crowds of people suddenly stopped and paused and took out their Scrolls, listening to the grainy instructions being relayed. There wasn't the bandwidth for video - communications throughout the desert were already spotty even with the CCT network in place, and now they lacked even that to boost the range beyond local signals. But that was why they'd all gathered in one place this morning, with enough cars and trucks to collapse a highway. To change that.

"Alright folks, this is it," Theodore boomed with all his usual bravado. "The biggest recorded haul in Vacuo history, and it all counts on you being smart, safe, and sharp-eyed. Truck drivers, remember to keep a few miles between the folks ahead and behind you, to make sure each group gets as little attention from the Grimm as possible. And keep your compasses in plain sight…if that little needle points anywhere other than north, you're going the wrong way. This entire plan hinges on every one of you making it to the launch site with every bit of cargo you've got."

Rumpole's dry, no-nonsense tone of voice came next. "Garnet goes first, then Lapis, Topaz, Opal, and finally Jade. Our resident Maiden's already on her way to clear out the launch site ahead of you, and we've got hawkmasters stationed from here to there scouting the wastes and daisy-chaining Scroll signals. Sands look rife with the usual beasts - Cadejos, Mobulas, Ravagers, Sulfur Fish, Thresher Fins, even a couple Jackalopes and Dromedons for good measure. Nothing you Hunters can't handle, but don't get careless. This mission's no place for showboating."

"This is our chance to show all of Vacuo - all of Remnant, even - that we Magnans can more than pull our own weight," added Raanu with an aged rasp behind each word. "That this world is something we'll fight for, something we'll brave the dusty roads and scorching sun to protect and unify. We've hauled more than this across longer distances while building the Ark, while enduring greater dangers. Today, we prove our strength and courage."

"If you need a snack, or have to use the bathroom, do so now." The Headmaster was clearly grinning in delight, pride, and excitement. "Rev up and roll out in ten, people! Good luck out there!"

"We'll monitor all your comms from here as best we can," finished Rumpole. "May the winds of Vacuo shield and guide you all, and bring you safely back to us."

"Marendar ik atero," said Raanu, a phrase that the Glatorians repeated. Oscar would have to ask what that meant later.

The next ten minutes were disquietingly calm, if a little unorganized. Indistinct Hunters and Glatorians across the entire convoy loaded up onto their designated vehicles, while Agori made final checks on anything with wheels. The rumbling cacophony of idling engines grew into a chorus of roars as every desert truck, every dune runner, and every sand-cycle got ready to embark across the endless dunes.

"Guess that's our cue as designated drivers," muttered Joanna as she stowed her Scroll and collapsed her quarterstaff. "Hope Fiona and Robyn are okay up front without us, especially with you-know-who being part of their same group."

"C'mon, the Ace Ops aren't that bad once you get to know 'em." May smirked as she wiped engine grease off her hands. "Harriet's a lot more tolerable when Elm's around, to the point that you almost forget she's got a huge stick up her ass." She laughed softly while shaking her head. "Personally, I'd be more worried about Fi making doe-eyes at that Marrow kid the whole trip. Poor girl just melts around him."

Her friend groaned and rolled her eyes. "Oh, great. Just great. Another lovestruck Happy Huntress too afraid to make a move on her crush. That's exactly what we need right now…"

"I could pretend to pine over you, if it makes you feel less alone."

"Eh, thanks but no thanks. Relationships are way too much of a headache."

"Agreed." The blue-haired Huntress sighed, then looked over at NDGO. "C'mon, girls, we're burning daylight. Get the shuttle loaded up, then pile in. You too, Kiina."

The girls followed orders with only a little bit of eye-rolling and sighing. Jaune boosted Nebula's Semblance once more to move the shuttle onto the rocket, snapping it into place thanks to built-in magnetic locks between the two. Once it was secured the pair went back to their assigned groups; Nebula joined the rest of her team in the cargo bed as May got behind the wheel, while Jaune slid into the driver seat for Team CFVY. Ackar and Kiina gave each other a terse nod, then clambered onto the runners carrying the teams they'd befriended. Though the cars, too, lurched under the weight of their Glatorian passengers, they held firm all the same.

Nolan gave Scarlet a quick kiss for luck before getting behind the wheel of SSSN's car, earning supportive whooping from the rest of the boys and a nod of understanding from Gelu. Reese grinned as she slid into the driver's seat for ABRN's runner, only for Joanna to pick her up by the scruff and deposit her in the cargo bed with the rest of her team. Blake hugged Yang from behind as the blonde brawler gripped the handlebars of her sand-cycle, the two women already snuggling up for the long drive ahead. Emerald pulled up her gas mask as Ilia leaned against her back in the seat behind her - partly to cover her mouth from dust and grit, and partly (Oscar suspected) to hide just how red the lower half of her face was getting.

"First road trip on another planet!" Gresh proclaimed as he planted himself between an excited Reese and an already-carsick Nadir, Vinebreaker cocked and loaded in tonfa form. "Let's do this!"

The daredevil grinned. "Oh, this is gonna be great!"

"Oh, this is gonna be awful…" groaned her beleaguered, pink-haired partner.

Oscar chuckled for a moment as he watched the other teams, his smile eventually fading as his grip tightened around Long Memory. "Alright…guess we'd better get ready to go too, huh Oz?"

Silence in his mind was the only answer he got. He wasn't sure whether he should be worried or relieved.

"Insightful as always."

He sighed and shook his head before climbing up the passenger-side ladder, carefully avoiding any burrs on the steel rungs that hadn't been sandblasted down by rushing winds. Once he was high enough to reach the door towering overhead, he threw it open and reluctantly crawled into the stuffy, cramped cabin. The seats were threadbare and worn down by time, sand and dust covered every inch of the floor, and the windows were caked with grit and smears. Two sets of cracked dice hung by chains from a dull mirror. A little plastic Mistrali beach dancer with a tiny skirt bobbed back and forth across its mount. And each of the fan vents was overlaid by a weave of ivory fibers - materials clearly harvested from an Ice Dustfruit tree to make some crude air conditioning system.

Riding one of these was still better than walking across the desert on foot, even if only just.

Maria crawled up into the seat next to him, adjusting the pedals and steering wheel to fit her smaller frame. "Heh…heh heh heh…" Mechanical eyes clicked and shimmered in tandem with a wicked grin, as the old Huntress gave the plastic dancer a little poke. "Been wanting to play with one of these babies for months, ever since we flew over here. Let's see how well this ol' hunk of junk dances."

Oscar raised an eyebrow at his diminutive driver. "Should I be worried about riding shotgun with you?"

"What, you don't have faith in a sweet little old lady?"

"Not when that lady was the one flying us all the way from Argus to Solitas. Oh, did I say 'flying?' I meant 'falling with style.'"

The former silver-eyed warrior scoffed and waved dismissively. "Ah, that was just because my eyes weren't working right, remember? Back then I couldn't see any color at all but blue, and now I'm not due for another tune-up for at least another decade. I'm not about to steer us into a sinkhole or anything silly like that because of a crossed wire, that'd just be insulting."

Oscar felt reassured in truth, but smirked all the same. "Fair enough. Just let me know if you want me to take the wheel for any reason. I know how much old-timers like you need your naps."

"Hah! We'll see, kid. We'll see."

Somewhat encouraged by the good-natured teasing, Oscar settled into as comfortable a position as he could for the long drive ahead. He watched as the first truck in the convoy pulled away alongside its escorts, bumpers and taillights barely visible through the clouds of dust kicked up by its spinning tires. The roaring of steel monsters echoed across the desert, a droning sound which grew louder with each engine that came alive and each group that went on ahead. But it was nothing compared to the thundering in the young man's heart, dread and unease gripping him tighter as the trucks departed one by one.

Finally, after an hour that felt like an eternity, Theodore's voice boomed from his Scroll once more. "Alright Jade Truck, you're up! Stay safe out there, Ozzie."

He forced a smile and looked at Maria, who nodded. "Understood," he called back. "Thanks, Theodore. Everyone…let's go."

One click of the gearshift, one push of the pedal, and the desert truck's twin engines bellowed with fury and belched plumes of fresh smoke. Oscar felt his seat shudder with the rest of the metal behemoth, wincing as his ears were assaulted by the high-pitched screech of rubber tires straining to find traction in shifting sand. For a moment he was afraid that the booster rocket, along with everything else in the back, was too heavy a burden for their chariot to bear…and that fear almost immediately gave way as the sand finally yielded, as the pistons pumped and gained dominance, as the truck began to lurch forward into the sandblasted void.

"And we're away!" Maria grinned as she wrestled to keep the steering wheel on the correct course. "Truck's behaving herself so far…she's a bit of a wild one, but she'll get us and the goods there in one piece. Reckon it'll be about an hour before we reach cruising speed, then another five until we get to the launch site. Wanna put some music on for the drive, kid? The radio's busted, so you'll have to play it over your Scroll - and I'll listen to anything except that country garbage."

He waved her off with a soft laugh. "I'm good, thanks. Would rather listen to the local comms, if that's okay."

"Works for me!" The former Huntress cast a smirk at him. "But I'll warn you, I'm a whistler…I might just give us a tune anyway, if the mood strikes me."

Oscar gave a small smile and a nod to the driver, then leaned against the window and watched as the dunes passed them by - slowly at first, then gradually getting faster as the truck picked up speed. Looking down, he saw Gresh whooping and hollering from atop ABRN's dune runner, much to the mix of enthusiasm and chagrin among his young new friends. Ahead of them, Jaune steered CFVY's runner to the front of the formation, while a glance at a dusty mirror told him that SSSN's car was bringing up the rear. Yang's sand-cycle stayed on the move during the drive, pulling ahead and falling back at different times while Blake's eyes studied the desert.

"Left side's clear so far," reported Nebula from outside Maria's window. "Dust cover is lighter than usual, no Grimm hiding in the dunes, and not a sandstorm in sight on the horizon. Perfect day for a long drive."

The other Hunters reported similar levels of activity, confirming for the moment that Jade Truck was safe and secure. Oscar listened to the convoy-wide chatter for a little while, then let himself space out while staring off into the dusty nothing that passed them by. Now that he had free time, a moment where he wasn't expected to help carry the hope of an entire kingdom on his freckled little shoulders, he turned his attention once again to the biggest Goliath in his life.

You're being awfully quiet today, thought Oscar both to himself and his mental passenger. What's on your mind?

When he was met with silence yet again, he allowed himself a tight frown. Oz? You better not be giving me the silent treatment again. If you are, then I swear…as soon as Amity goes online, the first thing I'm doing is calling Port and telling him what you were "borrowing" his mustache wax for.

If it was possible for an ancient wizard soul floating around in his mind to blush in embarrassment, he suspected Ozpin was doing just that at the moment. The ultimatum worked, however, as he felt thoughts that weren't his own drift into his consciousness at long last.

Look, when you get to that age, it becomes a challenge to find hair products that don't agitate the scalp, said the old Headmaster with a hint of playfulness and defensiveness before sobering. But…you're right. It's not fair of me to leave you on your own, especially for something as critical as this. That's a mistake I regret more than anything, being silent and absent for so long…

Then why do it again? Oscar asked. We could've really used your insight for this whole crazy plan.

It's not something I did on purpose, assured Ozpin. I've just…had a lot to think about these last few days, ever since Azina and Maria pitched their idea for Amity. I suppose I was so lost in my own thoughts, I ended up drifting away from yours.

Another frown. Don't tell me you've been planning to veto the operation this whole time.

Far from it. I agree that a Remnant with a CCT network is a far stronger, far more united Remnant. And having it hosted entirely on one satellite, while still controllable remotely from down here, is certainly more secure than the past systems. It's just…

Just what?

What if we're making the same mistake that James made? Pinning all our hopes on a chance to unite the world, without consideration for how close we're flying to the sun? Are we imposing our will and our view of how Remnant should be on the people, regardless of whether they think it's right or not? And are we taking advantage of the kindness the Bara Magna refugees have shown us so far? Will there come a point where our demands leave them broken and angry, just as his plans did with Mantle?

A hollow ache in his chest returned with a vengeance. Well, I don't plan on shooting anyone who disagrees with me, if that's what you're worried about.

Oscar…

I know. He heaved a silent sigh. And I get what you mean…with something this big, it's easy to justify and rationalize any sacrifices we ask others to make in our stead. But we're not being secretive about it. We're not abandoning the people of Vacuo to make this happen. We're not stealing from the Magnans to prop ourselves up. I like to think that means we're staying far away from the same path Ironwood went down, the one his own inner demons steered him toward…and the fact that we're even asking these questions in the first place is, I think, a good sign of that.

A mirthless chuckle rang in his mind. True…James never was one to second-guess himself, even when we were young. Once upon a time, it was even one of his most admirable traits. One of his more…noble traits.

It took every bit of self-control not to scoff out loud. I'll take your word for it, Oz.

You've only ever met my oldest friends at their worst, when I've known them for far longer and seen the best in them. Ozpin's thoughts carried a note of remorse in them now. It's my deepest shame and regret that you faced Leonardo Lionheart after his caution was twisted into cowardice. That you saw James Ironwood for his heartlessness and not his heroics. That you know Salem not as a woman in love with the world, but as a widow who lost herself in grief and rage. And in all three of them and many more, in witnessing their falls from grace through your eyes, I can only wonder how much blame is mine to bear…

As tempted as Oscar was to ask how many of Ozpin's other "old friends" they'd end up fighting, even he didn't want to hurt the ancient wizard more than he already was. That can't be easy, he thought in sympathy instead, seeing people change for the worse like that.

It's the most damnable part of this curse, agreed Ozpin. I either outlive everyone around me with light in their heart, or watch them become part of the darkness themselves.

His lips twisted into another frown. I guess that's something I'm gonna have to prepare myself for too, huh?

It's something you'll never truly be able to prepare for. The sorrow…the loss…the guilt. It weighs on you, a burden that only gets heavier with each new life… with each new mistake made and secret kept. With each new generation of Huntsmen and Huntresses you recruit for a war you started, and with each ally lost to time, treachery, or both.

A chorus of piercing howls brought Oscar back to reality, as did the appearance of black amidst the sandy beige landscape. He noticed multiple four-legged beasts lunge and leap from dunes to attack, only to be cut down by the convoy's swords and spears and sparse gunfire. The Grimm menacing them were easily dispatched, but they'd served their purpose - distract them long enough to allow more Cadejos to swarm the path ahead, making a bulwark of black bony mass with their own frames.

"Looks like we've got wolves dead ahead trying to cut us off," reported Coco over the comms. "Spooling up my baby now."

"Hold that thought, Coco," said Ackar. "Your weapon relies on ammo - mine doesn't. Allow me."

Oscar watched as the red-armored Glatorian unslung the sword on his back and took a kneeling position, transforming Emberflare in well-practiced motions. The guard and hilt twisted to become an angled grip, the blade split open the long way to reveal a hidden nozzle, and a stock unfolded from the pommel to brace against the alien warrior's shoulder. With the pull of a trigger Ackar's flamethrower flared and belched a stream of golden-orange fire, creating clouds of elemental fury that incinerated entire chunks of the living wall. Cadejos yelped and howled as their resolve shattered and their bodies burned, tumbling down to the sand in an attempt to put themselves out - and making them very easy pickings for four dune runners and a massive hauler traveling at cruising speed.

The truck thumped and shuddered as burning Grimm were crunched under the wheels, but it kept moving all the same. Just another speed bump in the way.

"Hah!" cackled Maria. "That'll teach 'em not to play in traffic!"

"No kidding!" A loud whoop sounded over the comms. "Nice one, big guy! Way to bring the heat!"

"Thank you, Yang. And thank you, Ilia, for crafting such an exceptional armament. I imagine Emberflare will see a lot more use on the way to the launch site today."

"Agh, stop, you're making me blush…"

"Pretty sure that's not the only reason you're blushing, Ilia. You're holding onto Em pretty tight there, huh?"

"Blaaaaake…"

"Cut the chatter, and focus up! There's gotta be more Grimm where they came from…Gwen, keep your senses peeled!"

"Already listening to the sand, Miss Marigold. If they come for us, I will know."

Oscar chuckled softly to himself as more chatter and coordinated calls rang out. I dunno about that, Oz. This generation seems to be handling itself just fine, even with most of the big secrets out there in the open. With them, and the Magnans, and the whole world watching…we might have a chance to finally make things right. To make sure none of our future lives have to bear that burden you're talking about. To make sure there are no future lives of ours.

Though Ozpin had no face within his mind, he could almost feel a smile all the same. A noble sentiment…and a suitably grand dream. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought I was sharing a mind with Miss Rose herself.

He gave a small smile of his own. Knowing Ruby, I'll take that as a compliment. It's like she always says - the world's not like a fairy tale, but that's why we're here.

To make it better, Ozpin finished. I hope we can continue to do so together…for however long we have left as individuals, and beyond.

He slumped down in his seat, his smile and good mood fading as suddenly as it'd arrived. Right…how could he forget, even for a moment, what having the wizard in his mind actually meant in the long term? Why Long Memory felt so familiar and comforting to him, why magic came so easily, why everyone just saw him as a smaller Ozpin? The two distinct souls within him were well on their way to becoming one, and neither boy nor man knew how much they would become like the other. Would he still be able to call himself Oscar Pine, Huntsman of humble origins? Or would he just be another in a long line of Ozma's incarnations, another empty vessel for an ancient warrior to do his own thing? He'd seen in Jinn's story that Ozma could live alongside the host identity, instead of assimilating them completely…but would that be better than losing himself entirely, or worse? Would that even happen to someone as young as him?

Oscar Pine didn't know, but maybe that in itself was a mercy.

Even if it didn't feel much like one.

"Got some Mobulas bringing up the rear," reported Nolan through grit teeth, bringing Oscar's attention back to the present once more. "They're trying to slip under the wheels."

"I'll make sure they don't get the chance," intoned Gelu. "Pass me a melon, Goggles."

"Is now really the best time for a snack?" asked a very confused Neptune.

"It's not for me."

Deciding that an active battle was a good enough distraction from the usual existential dread, Oscar's gaze flitted back to the dusty rear-view mirror. Beyond the sheer mass of the truck itself, he caught a glimpse of the white-armored Glatorian loading a maroon Dustfruit into a two-pronged launcher, before twisting and aiming the weapon at the sands behind the dune runner. A massive tremor shook the ground as a small black hole tore into existence, pulling in the manta-like Grimm beneath the sand before detonating in a scarlet fireball. Loud whoops and hollers sounded from Team SSSN, while Gelu just blew the tip of his weapon dramatically.

"Nice shooting, Gelu," called Kiina over comms. "Surprised you're still using one of those things, instead of getting a cool form-shifting weapon like the rest of us."

"What can I say? I'm old-fashioned." The Ice Tribe warrior spoke with an audible smirk. "Besides, we've gotta use these Thornax Launchers for something, right?"

"Sure, but these Remnant blades are pretty clawed-out too!" Gresh's reply was punctuated by a burst of focused wind. "Hah! Got another one! Kinda wish there were more of these Grimm things to throw around…"

"You really don't," deadpanned Emerald. "Believe me, the ones right now are plenty. And these are just the stragglers left over from when all the other trucks passed through here - there's a reason the other convoys got twice the Hunters and three times as much ammo as us."

A shiver went down Oscar's spine as he looked out the window, watching as dozens of half-dissolved black corpses tumbled past them. If these really were just the leftover Grimm, the ones that had moved in to reclaim the "road" after four other groups cleared the way…then he really didn't want to think about what the others had needed to push through just to make it this far, especially the convoy leading the charge. Instead, he took solace in the fact that he didn't see any wrecked cars laying half-buried in sand, or abandoned cargo crates, or splatters of blood from mangled bodies. And Maria hadn't slowed down once in the last few hours, so the entire expedition was still making good time despite the Grimm's best efforts.

Of course, he and Ozpin both knew from experience that when the other shoe dropped, it dropped hard.

"I think I'll go up and man the turret," he said to Maria after a few pensive moments punctuated by blasts and booms. "Just in case they need some extra fire support. Will you be fine on your own here in the cabin?"

"Well, aside from feeling super lonely, I think I'll manage." A mechanical eye winked at him. "Go on, kiddo. Take a few potshots at the dogs for me."

Oscar gave a nod and a reassuring smile, then snapped a pair of goggles over his eyes and pulled a dust mask over his mouth and nose. Once he felt properly shielded from the elements he took a deep breath and pushed open the side door, bracing himself against the sandy winds that immediately fought against him. With some degree of difficulty he managed to slide out of his seat and edge his way onto a narrow little catwalk, hugging the side of the truck as he shimmied down the cabin. Once his gloved hands grasped a rusty ladder he held onto it for dear life, steeling himself before climbing it and practically throwing himself into a waiting turret seat.

The turret itself wasn't anything fancy or high-tech - just a pair of rotary cannons held in place by swivel joints and prayers, with a scratched-up pane of glass to protect the gunner from wind, sand, and stray shrapnel. Oscar grabbed the controls and felt ancient servos spring to life, motors in the seat and the gun itself warming up and shaking off the layers of dust. Weapons like these were only meant for emergencies, a last line of defense in case the vehicles and Hunters escorting the caravan were indisposed or worse. So it didn't matter much to the locals if the gunner was a little too exposed or if the barrels tended to jam up. If the guns ever needed to be used, there were bigger problems than one turret alone could solve.

Still, at least it gave him a good vantage point to see the action around him.

Yang and Emerald effortlessly wove their sand-cycles through throngs of gathering Grimm, trusting the sweeping slashes of their passengers to turn Cadejos into clouds of fine black mist. On his left Kiina unleashed a high-pressure water torrent from Vaporstrike, cutting through any foes Dew swept up into a tornado - and still reacting quickly enough to spear a lunging Thresher Fin with the trident. Gresh worked remarkably well with Team ABRN, hacking apart Mobulas that Arslan reeled in while Reese and Nadir shot down swooping Ravagers. Up ahead, Ackar quickly shifted his weapon between sword and flamethrower as needed to deal with swarming Sulfur Fish, nodding in approval as Velvet mirrored his actions with a wireframe copy of Emberflare. And at the rear of the convoy, Gelu covered Sun as a dozen glowing clones leapt overboard to assault a camel-like Dromedon, keeping its acidic breath aimed away from the cars long enough for the Glatorian to fire an explosive Dustfruit down its gullet.

"Just got word…Garnet reached…aunch site safely, with Lapis…minutes behind them," called a very scratchy Theodore over the Scrolls. "Keep up…ood work…team!"

"Jeez, that's an especially bad signal today," groused Reese. "That's something to look forward to when Amity goes up - actual proper reception. Well, that and sick kickflip videos…"

"Don't count your satellites before they fly," chided May with some degree of strain in her voice. "We've gotta get there first. Gwen, your senses picking anything else up?"

"Just more of the same," reported the ballerina, one palm firmly against the bed of the dune runner. "Cadejos, Mobulas, Thresher Fins, and…huh."

A hollow pit formed in Oscar's stomach. Emerald seemed to share the same unease, because her voice chimed in over the comms.

"Gwen? Bad time to go all quiet on us. Use your words, what are you seeing? Er, feeling. You know what I mean."

"Sorry, it's just…weird." He could hear the frustration and apprehension in the young Huntress's tone. "My Semblance is picking up something fast coming our way, south of our position. Something with footsteps that I've…never felt before. Heavier, too, like it's walking with the weight of two different creatures…some new kind of Grimm, maybe?"

Oscar watched as Kiina tapped her helmet twice to snap a visor over her eyes, which telescoped out to become a rugged pair of binoculars. The Glatorian swept her gaze to the back of the convoy, peering out past the caravan's cargo and SSSN's dune runner and the clouds of dust kicked up in their wake. That twisting feeling in Oscar's gut only grew tighter with each moment the alien warrior studied and watched…and the knot nearly tore itself free when Kiina suddenly gasped with a mix of shock and anger.

"Those aren't just Grimm!" she practically growled through a tight grimace. "Those are Skrall!"

Sure enough, he turned his turret around just in time to see at least two dozen bipedal monsters run out of the dust cloud, each one carrying lean ebony-armored warriors on their backs. The riders themselves resembled Glatorians, albeit with sleek black plating with blood-red highlights that matched their eyes. Each Skrall carried a razor-edged circular targe as wide as they were tall, along with two curved swords sheathed at the hips and a bundle of javelins slung across their backs. More concerning were the beasts they rode - hideous crosses between velociraptors and starved dogs, with mouthfuls of teeth and stinger-capped tails and legs strong enough to keep up with the convoy at a dead sprint. Whereas the oncoming Grimm had a feral hunger and rage in their yellow eyes, their Skrall riders glared with cold, patient wrath. Both chilled Oscar down to the bone.

Oh dear… mused Ozpin in his mind. It looks like Salem finally worked out the kinks in her "rideable Grimm" project.

"Lucky us," he grumbled under his breath.

Gresh swore over the comms in a language Oscar wasn't familiar with. "Stubborn bastards! How'd they find us? And why show themselves now?"

"We're dragging an entire rocket straight through Grimm territory, at the very back of caravan on top of that," countered Gelu. "That's practically a free lunch for these raiding types."

"Doesn't matter how they found us, they're not leaving alive!" Ackar's voice took a hard edge. "Huntsmen and Huntresses, focus on the Grimm - whatever you do, do not engage the Skrall themselves! These foes are beyond any of you, but we've been fighting them for thousands of years. Leave them to us!"

"We're gonna need more than just four Glatorians to fight off that many Skrall," noted Oscar as he keyed his Scroll. "Shade Control, this is Jade Truck requesting immediate assistance - we're under attack by Skrall and unknown Grimm!"

Static was his only answer, with a hint of mad cackling beneath the deafening white noise.

It would seem that Tyrian has found the hawkmasters responsible for relaying the signal between convoys, noted Ozpin grimly. We're on our own, Oscar.

Then we'll just have to hope we're enough, he remarked back before switching back to the local signal. "Listen up! Comms are down, but we have to be getting close to the launch site! There's a Maiden and four squads' worth of firepower waiting for us - if we can't outrun or outfight the Skrall, we'll just have to outlast them until we can meet with the others! Box formation as best you can around the truck, and full speed ahead!"

"Sounds like a plan, kid!" Maria cackled with a wicked grin. "Time to redline this thing! C'mon, you old hunk a' junk! Time to see how fast you can really go!"

Despite the engines rumbling and growling in protest, the hauler began to pick up even more speed as it surged through the sands. The rest of the convoy was quick to mobilize and drift into new positions, with two dune runners guarding each side of the trailer while the sand-cycles pulled ahead to stay near the cabin. The Glatorians rose to their feet and balanced themselves on the cargo beds of the cars, while their accompanying Hunters prepped any ranged weapons or Dust attacks they had. More Cadejos and Thresher Fins and Ravagers surged in to attack, but they weren't the main threat. They were just a distraction to keep their attention away from the alien warriors overtaking the convoy in a moving pincer formation, beasts that were easily cut down by swift strokes and slashes from the melee-focused warriors. Best to save the ammo for the main event.

And then, when the last wolf tumbled to the ground in a dark mist, the Skrall let loose a collective war cry and attacked.

A symphony of gunfire and projectiles rang out as the alien raiders closed in. Gravity rounds from Reese's pistols. Electrified bursts from Neptune and Nadir's rifles. Rockets from Yang's wrists. Guided throwing disks from Blake and Emerald. Burning shells from Sun's shotgun-nunchucks. Fiery tornadoes conjured by Dew and Octavia. Crossbow bolts from Nebula. Twin explosive salvos from Coco and Velvet's miniguns. The air smelled of discharging Dust and shook with booming thunder, nearly drowning out the sound of the rushing winds.

Oscar added his own turret fire to the mix in short bursts, teeth tingling and body shaking with each deafening roar and forceful recoil from the cannons. He heeded Ackar's advice and aimed for the Grimm themselves - Skirmishers, thought Oscar, hazily recalling memories that weren't his own - and watched as piercing rounds punched into shadowy flesh. Some of the Skirmishers fell to the wild barrage of bullets, their bodies tumbling and leaving their riders behind in the dust.

Most didn't.

Those Skrall whose steeds hadn't been cut down - which was to say, far too many of them - snarled alongside their mounts as they went on the attack. Half of the raiders drew their javelins and flung them with practiced ease, punching through steel and windshields and anything else unlucky enough to be hit. The rest charged in on their Skirmishers and lunged into melee, bracing their shields against their shoulders and ramming into any vehicle within reach. Oscar felt the truck shake and shudder with each impact and sideswipe that connected, surprised at the strength of both the beasts and the alien warriors. Still, the truck itself was sturdy enough to take the hits. The cargo it carried was comparatively weaker - and the others in the convoy were even more fragile.

While most of the cars were able to steer out of the way, Team NDGO wasn't so fortunate. The Huntresses-in-training and their Glatorian were so focused on keeping one Skirmisher at bay, they were blindsided by another Skrall crashing into their opposite side. The crumpled dune runner slid and spun out of control from the force of the blow, and it was only May's quick reflexes that kept her team from crashing. Gwen nearly tumbled off the side of the car as it careened away from the caravan, but Dew and Octavia grabbed her just before she slipped away. Nebula stretched out her arm as her hands glowed with violet light, only to cry out in pain as a swiftly-thrown javelin grazed her shoulder. Kiina let out a yell and launched herself at the Skrall that had dared to hurt her favorite team, tackling the rider right off its beast as both of them disappeared into the distant cloud of dust alongside the spinning, smoking car.

"No!" cried Velvet, her wails almost deafened by the sound of mimicked machine gun fire. "We've gotta go back for them!"

"We can't help them without leaving this fight!" countered Emerald, deftly steering to avoid an incoming Skrall. "If we turn the truck around or peel off, we'll be even more exposed than we already are! Remember, that rocket and the shuttle's the key to this whole plan - if we lose those, we lose Amity completely!"

"She's right," Blake said morosely as Krahkava bounced off a Skrall shield and back into her hand. "Hate to say it, but our best bet is to keep going and get to the launch site. No stopping for anything…or anyone."

The rabbit Faunus's ears drooped, but Ackar put a hand on her shoulder - even as his other hand swung Emberflare to deflect an incoming javelin. "Don't worry about them," said the elder Glatorian with warmth and pride in his voice. "Kiina's one of the toughest warriors I know, and when she gets attached to people she fights like a feral sand-stalker to protect them. If anyone can keep Team NDGO safe until rescue, it'd be her - a few hundred Grimm and a couple Skrall won't change that."

That seemed to raise the Huntress's spirits, as she nodded and keyed Anesidora again to summon a wireframe copy of Blake's otherworldly throwing disk. Oscar wished he could say the same; he stared hopelessly back at the dust cloud behind the convoy for a moment, half-hoping to see the lost dune runner emerging like a burning chariot. But he forced himself to look away with a blink and a shake of his head. They were only the first to fall, and if he let himself get distracted they wouldn't be the last.

The battle continued to rage as the Skrall kept sideswiping the convoy and pelting them with javelins. Gresh slammed his tonfas together and countered an incoming shield slam with one of his own, the two warriors pressing bulwarks together and trading punches through their guards. As the alien warriors fought and grappled, the Skirmisher lashed out at Team ABRN with snapping bites and jabs from its stinger tail, which the young Hunters fended off as best they could. Nadir ducked under its lunging maw and emptied his rifle into its chin, which didn't seem to do more than annoy it. Bolin pelted its skull with devastating bo staff strikes, only to be shocked as the plating didn't even crack. Arslan tried to weave her rope hook around its maw like a muzzle, but the beast yanked back and pulled her overboard. And Reese locked her pistols together into a hoverboard just in time to use it as an emergency shield, barely blocking the tail as it came down at her yet again.

"Boss, you hanging in there?" called the daredevil as she strained against the weight of the stinger.

"Now's not the time for jokes, Reese!"

"I'll take that as a yes…in that case, see if you can do something with this!"

With that Reese pulsed the engines of her hoverboard, blasting the tail away with a burst of force strong enough to shatter its bones. Arslan seemed to catch onto her plan just as the stinger reeled wildly in the wind, swinging back into sight on her rope and kicking the limp limb into the Skirmisher's leg. A pained howl escaped the beast as it slowed down for just a few steps, which made its Skrall rider lose balance for a brief moment - and that moment was all it took for Gresh to win the melee, twisting away the ebon warrior's shield and driving Vinebreaker's edge right into an exposed throat.

"Thanks for the help, guys!" called the Jungle Tribe Glatorian as he unceremoniously kicked away his opponent, grabbing Arslan's rope and pulling her back to the dune runner. "Good thinking, hitting it with the tail."

"Guess they're not immune to their own venom," panted the martial artist breathlessly. "Or to having a really sharp stinger hitting the leg. Miss Greenleaf, how's the car holding up?"

"We lost a tire to the javelins and a door to the dog, but otherwise we're just fine," reported Joanna stoically. "I've driven longer trips with cars in worse shape than this."

But the fighting didn't stop there. Emerald slid her sand-cycle under another Skrall trying to flatten her and her passenger, counting on Ilia to plunge Lightning Lash into its belly and deliver what should've been a killing blow to the Skirmisher. It wasn't fatal, but it did stagger the beast enough for the pair to find traction again and drive away. As the Skrall and the wounded Skirmisher gave chase, Oscar twisted the turret around and fired another burst. His bullets struck true and tore apart the thigh, making the dog howl in pain as it fell and collapsed in a cloud of smoke. The Skrall who'd been riding it tumbled across the sand for a moment before digging his shield into the side of the trailer, locking eyes with the farmboy and snarling before starting to climb up the side -

Only for SSSN's car to zoom in, close enough for Gelu to deliver a swift head-cleaving slash.

"You probably don't need me telling you this, but don't let those things on the rocket. That was our big mistake."

Oscar gulped and nodded, watching the newly-decapitated Skrall finally fall away. "I'll try and do just that, Gelu. Thanks."

"Just doing my job. Hey Tails, we're gonna need some more bodies to throw at those assholes with the javelins. Think your clones can jump that far?"

"Only one way to find out! Cover me, uh…Yeti!"

"…how about you let me give the nicknames from now on?"

"Yeah that's fair."

As Team SSSN pulled away to deal with the next threat, Oscar turned and took a few potshots at more Skirmishers while keeping one eye on the other teams. To his left he watched Ackar put himself between another charging Skrall and CFVY's car, catching the shield with a mighty kick. With a groan and a nod to the driver, he braced himself and pushed back just as Jaune turned hard into the attacker, sending the rider flying clear off his beast and into the dust cloud. The Glatorian wasted no time in using his momentum to leap onto the Skirmisher's now-empty back, clearly intending to commandeer it - only for the beast to immediately turn back around and try to bite him. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he fended off the fangs with Emberflare for a few moments before driving his blade down its throat, transforming it into a flamethrower, and burning it from the inside out. He hopped back onto the dune runner a moment later, black mist still clinging to his armor.

To the right, Oscar caught a glimpse of Yang swerving and drifting between three different Skirmishers. The wheels of her bike practically glided across the sand, easily avoiding incoming jaws, sweeping tails, slamming shields, and stomping legs that kept trying to pin her down. Unsurprisingly, Blake had her back; the feline Faunus wielded her partner's protosteel disk alongside her own, swinging both in tandem to deliver Aura-infused slashes to any Grimm that got too close. One Skirmisher hit the sand hard after its foot was sliced off. Another bucked its own Skrall after a flare burned out its eyes. The third roared alongside its rider as it charged head-on at the pair, only for them to slip underneath and assault its underbelly with a flurry of slashes and punches before driving safely away.

As that last Skirmisher dug its claws into the sand and reared up for another pass at them, Yang just pumped her fist with a knowing grin. Seconds later the red bombs under its joints exploded in plumes of flame, tearing the Grimm apart and sending its rider flying into the unknown.

"Damn I missed having these things," she remarked with a sharp laugh.

"Just make sure you don't put too much Dustfruit in them," remarked Blake. "Hate to see you blow yourself up just because you were too eager to use the sticky bombs again."

"Whatever you say, dear…"

Oscar tuned out their banter with a smile and a shake of his head, then focused back on the battle at hand. One by one, the Skirmishers started to fall to their coordinated attacks, and often their deaths took the riders out of the fight as well. Skrall were sent flying with broken armor, shattered helmets, or burning limbs. Whether they were truly dead or not wasn't important - as long as they weren't chasing them, that was all that mattered.

Except more Skrall and Skirmishers kept coming to replace the ones that had fallen. They leapt from towering dunes and hit the ground running, or they emerged from their hiding spots within rocky crags. The dune runners and the sand-cycles got pushed further and further away from their charge, bit by bit as the fatigue of high-speed combat took its toll on both warrior and machine. Oscar lost count of how many Grimm came and went, or how many miles they crossed, or even how many times he had to unjam the turret cannons. If they could just hold out a little longer, then maybe…maybe they had a chance.

That faint hope was shattered when a half-dozen Skirmishers leapt onto the truck's trailer, and clung onto it long enough for their Skrall riders to dismount and land on the booster rocket.

"We've got boarders!" cried Oscar as he swiveled his turret around to face the Skrall, for all the good it did. He couldn't fire on them. Not without putting bullet holes in the shuttle, the cargo, or the rocket itself. "Somebody deal with them, now!"

"We're trying, but they're keeping us away from the truck!" Gresh called desperately as he clashed blades with two Skrall trying to sandwich him. "Just hang on!"

The ebony-armored warriors drew their swords and started slashing indiscriminately, dragging their blades through steel like knives through warm butter. Some of them targeted the shuttle itself. Others plunged their tips into the rocket hull. Every second Oscar and his friends waited for a Glatorian to come help, more damage would be done. They had no time. The plan had no time.

So Oscar rose from his seat, Long Memory in hand. He knew it was foolish. He knew Ackar had said not to engage the Skrall directly. That this was a foe beyond any of them.

But maybe…they're not beyond us.

Ozpin picked up on his plan with an apprehensive pause. Oscar, are you sure about this? You know what happened after we used all that magic in Atlas -

We don't have a choice, he countered. Either we lose ourselves, or everyone loses Amity. I can't let that happen. And you know that you can't, either.

…very well. Let us begin.

And just like that, time seemed to slow to a crawl. Whereas to him - to them - everything moved at a snail's pace, the opposite was true for the world that watched them. They sprinted fifty feet down the length of the rocket in the space of a heartbeat, extending their cane and striking the nearest Skrall with dozens of blows that landed all at once. The warrior was sent flying. They didn't stop to watch. They were already moving onto the next.

One Skrall was ripping a bundle of wires out of the shuttle fuselage. With a wave of their hand those cables came alive and strangled the alien warrior, wrapping around an armored throat and throwing the choking corpse over the edge. Another started to turn, sword drawn in vain. A blast of lightning surged from their palm, striking an ebon chest and incinerating the muscle and servos underneath. A third Skrall flung a razor-sharp shield in their direction. They sidestepped it mid-flight and rushed at the now-shieldless warrior, slamming Long Memory's pommel hard enough to shatter a metal helm - and the skull underneath it.

Four Skrall down. Only two left. Their swords were still hilt-deep in the front guts of the shuttle. They had no idea what was coming. Easy prey. One more blast of magic, one more blow at the speed of sound, and it would be -

A sharp, searing pain clutched Oscar's chest like a vice grip, and he fell to his knees with an agonized gasp. Time resumed its relentless march as the spell wore off, as the magic at his fingertips slipped away yet again. At first he wondered if he'd been stabbed, but soon realized that would've been preferable. His mind might've been willing to accept this other soul, but his body was still fighting the inevitable. Still fighting the merge. Still having seizures whenever he dipped too deeply into the ancient wizard's power. He'd nearly coughed up blood after unleashing the blast that killed Monstra. This felt worse.

And it came at the worst possible time.

Oscar!

He barely moved in time to heed Ozpin's frantic scream in his mind, raising an emerald barrier of kinetic energy just in time to deflect a flying shield. It bounced off and flipped away to parts unknown, but it still gave the thrower a chance to tackle him and pin him to the side of the booster rocket with twin swords. Sparks ran down Long Memory's shaft as it blocked alien metal. Blood dripped from his palm as the other blade slowly applied pressure with its biting edge. He was trapped. No way out. Not without his body letting him use more magic.

The other Skrall turned to look at him with a vindictive sneer, glowing scarlet eyes burning with amusement and anger. "You humans are all the same…soft, weak, and short-lived. Even you, with all your power, are no different than the rest. No surprise that the Grimm rule this planet, instead of you."

Oscar was inclined to agree with the ebony warrior, but a glance past the one pinning him down revealed a sight he'd been hoping to see earlier.

A dune runner emerging from the dusty fog, with a blue-armored Glatorian poised to leap from a cracked windshield.

"Maybe…" he panted, allowing himself a small smile. "But don't count us out just yet. We humans are full of surprises."

The pair of Skrall had just enough time to wonder what he meant before Kiina leapt into action, opening with a flying kick and planting both feet against one raider's back. She used the staggered Skrall as a springboard to flip back and twist around in mid-air, aiming Vaporstrike at the one pinning Oscar and pulling the rifle mode's trigger. A high-pressure bolt of water boomed like thunder and blew off an arm just below the shoulder; despite now missing one of his limbs, the Skrall just roared in response and pulled away a bloodied sword, aiming it at the Glatorian touching down on the nose of the shuttle.

"You would fight us, even here?" snarled the one-armed Skrall, unconcerned with the oily black blood flying from the severed shoulder. "Foolish."

"Worse than foolish," growled the other, whirling to face her with a hefted shield in one hand and a drawn sword in the other. "Charlatans. Performers who fight only for accolades and trinkets, propping up a mockery of honorable combat."

"Since when have you sand-spitters ever cared about honor?" Kiina scoffed as she form-shifted the Dust rifle back into a two-headed trident. "Besides, I never needed an arena to kick your ass. So if we're gonna dance, let's dance."

With that she leapt off and began slashing and thrusting with Vaporstrike's bladed prongs, moving so fast between the ebon warriors she was practically a blur. The Skrall pair tried to slash and hack at her, but she fended off their swords with parries, ripostes, and counter-stabs of her own. She pounded against the shield-bearing Skrall's defenses with a flurry of blows designed to knock them off-balance, then whipped her trident around to deliver a stunning strike to the side of their head. The other one tried to stab her with their last sword; Kiina just trapped the blade between the trident's prongs, twisted it against the rocket hull, and kicked its wielder hard enough to send them over the edge. Before the last Skrall could come back to their senses, Kiina scooped up the discarded sword and drove it clean through their throat, ripping the blade free with a splatter of black against her armor and shoulder-checking the dying warrior off the truck.

The shuttle and rocket were safe again…for now, at least.

Oscar finally remembered to breathe again as Ozpin urged him back to his feet, using Long Memory to stabilize himself and his shaky legs. Kiina looked at him with concern for a moment, concealing how hard she was panting herself and how tired she was. She looked back down at the stolen sword in her hands and reared back to throw it with its wielder, only to think the better of it and stow it on her back.

"Exsidian-forged blades…not surprising, considering what we found out in the Crescent Dunes," she muttered with a shake of her head. "The Skrall didn't waste any time using our stuff, did they?"

"Well, at least they returned some of it," said Oscar with an attempt at a laugh, gesturing to the many javelins and swords still sticking point-first into the booster rocket. "Perhaps we can melt them down and use them for ourselves."

Kiina forced a chuckle of her own. "You sound like Gresh, always looking on the bright side of things."

"I'm sure he wouldn't need saving from Skrall…"

The Glatorian shook her head and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Don't be so hard on yourself - the Skrall are the best warriors from our world, apart from yours truly. You still took four of them out on your own, which is more than any other human can say."

He could tell they were supposed to be words of comfort, but considering the lingering aches in his muscles and chest, he wasn't feeling very receptive. The only thing that lifted his spirits was the sight of all remaining Skirmishers coming to a sudden stop, digging their claws into the sand and letting the convoy speed past them. Skrall warriors glared at the departing humans and Glatorians with burning crimson eyes, their last visible feature the dust cloud claimed them once more.

"Looks like they're cutting their losses and retreating," said Oscar as he pinched his cut hand, pooling Aura into the wound to seal it up quickly. "That's good, right?"

Kiina shook her head. "Skrall don't retreat - they just know how to disappear after finishing a mission. Whatever they wanted here, safe to say they got it."

One glance at the shuttle and rocket, with the many punctures and slashes in their hulls, gave Oscar a pretty good guess of what they came for. But he shook the thought out of his head, and forced himself to pay attention to something else. Anything else. Anything that told him this wasn't a complete disaster.

The dune runner limping behind the truck and hitching itself to the trailer's rear did just that.

"Heads up, Jade Truck - gonna need you to tow us the rest of the way," came the voice of a very tired May Marigold over the comms. "Our engine's pretty busted up, and we lost most of our fuel. Hope it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all, kiddo," said Maria with an audible smirk. "Figured you NDGO girls would show up eventually."

To everyone's surprise, Velvet was next to speak up with genuine concern. "Nebula, are you and your team alright? You had us all worried for a minute there."

"Not worried enough to come back -"

"Tav."

Octavia sighed. "Sorry…thanks for your concern, Velv, but we're okay now. Kiina fought off the Skrall that hurt Nebs, and May got us back on the road. We're alive, and that's what counts."

"Helluva trick she pulled back there to get us on track," added Dew. "Haven't seen that kind of driving with a dune runner since my family hosted those underground races. You're pretty alright…for an Atlesian, at least."

May huffed over the comms. "Damn. A compliment from you? I'll make sure to treasure it for the rest of my life."

The banter eased some of the tension in his gut as others called in and reported their status. While injuries and lost car parts were common, no one had been killed or left behind. And as damaged as the truck's precious cargo had gotten during the fight, the Glatorians were certain it was nothing the launch site crew couldn't patch up…as if five-foot-long gashes in solid steel and severed wires were just dents easily pounded out.

It was all Oscar could do but hope they were right.

The rest of the drive was tense but thankfully uneventful.

As soon as Maria pumped the brakes and pulled into the designated launch site, the battered truck was practically swarmed with questions and workers eager to unload the last of the cargo. Oscar didn't help much with either task; he allowed people like Jaune, Ackar, and Kiina to report what had happened during their drive, while the stronger arms of Gresh, Yang and especially Sage handled moving boxes and crates. Not that he would've been particularly helpful, considering his chest still ached and his head still spun and his fingertips still felt numb to the touch. The cut on his palm from the Exsidian blade had stopped bleeding, but it hadn't already started healing like most wounds did under Aura. That was…worrying. Not as worrying as the fact that the Skrall had been there at all, of course, but still an issue.

So he mostly just sat on a stack of empty crates and watched the others work, nibbling on a Water Dustfruit that cooled down his dry and dusty throat. Fiona practically bounded over to May and Joanna to greet them with leaping hugs, the former getting knocked off her feet while the latter felt the sheep Faunus bounce off her. Robyn came and looked over every one of the new arrivals, bandaging up things like Nebula's punctured shoulder and Nolan's cut eyebrow and the many, many rashes borne of sand-laced wind exposure. Scarlet held his boyfriend's hand as the young man limped tiredly against his shoulder. Sun shook grit and dust out of his hair and tail, drawing a groan from Neptune nearby as he tried and failed to wipe down his goggles. Dew and Octavia gently set their leader down for a well-deserved rest, while Gwen danced around them to stretch her legs after the long drive. Gelu, Blake, Maria, and Team CFVY stood idle for all of ten seconds before dispersing to help once more, either forming a defensive line with other warriors or helping to unload more crates and cargo.

The rest of the launch site crew was terrifyingly efficient at their jobs. Winter and Tarix patrolled the barricades that had been set up, making sure that the defenders were on the lookout for both Grimm and Skrall. Engineers from both Vacuo and Atlas combed over a half-reconstituted Amity Colosseum as it lay on its side, snapping the ring-like structure walls together and aligning the massive Gravity Dust crystal at its base. A crew of Agori used a set of strange cranes to lift the booster rocket and shuttle off its trailer, at which point Azina, Perditus, and the rest of the flight crew began their inspections and their repairs. Oscar's chest ached a little more with every dirty look that Kirbraz and Scodonius shot his way, and one especially-loud curse from Crotesius made him want to curl into a ball and disappear. Despite Azina's constant assurances that this was fixable, his heart still felt heavy at letting this happen in the first place.

"Hey. You good?"

Of all the people he'd expected to come check on him, Emerald wasn't one of them. And yet he looked over and saw the dark-skinned, green-haired woman come and lean against his perch with something resembling concern in her crimson gaze.

"Yes, I'm quite…" Oscar shook his head and cleared his ragged throat, breaking himself of mannerisms that felt too familiar for his own liking. "Yeah, I'm good. Just…feeling a little tired, that's all it is. Using that much magic against the Skrall…took a lot out of me."

Emerald hummed and nodded thoughtfully. "Seems like it's one hell of a double-edged sword, huh?"

"You have no idea." He sighed as he watched Crotesius angrily mutter under his breath as he welded a new metal plate over a large gash. "And even with all that power at my fingertips, it's still not always enough to solve every problem…"

"Hey, you did what you could as best you could," countered the former thief. "Anyone gets pissy at you for that, it's their problem. Not yours. Hell, we might not even have any space stuff to deliver if it weren't for you. So keep your chin up - you did good."

Oscar's freckled cheeks felt warm from the encouragement, but he couldn't stop himself from smirking all the same. "Thanks…though I'm surprised to hear you say something like that, Em."

She shrugged and failed to hide her own blush. "What can I say? Guess being around all these goody two-shoe heroes must've rubbed off on me. Plus, I guess being honest and nice has its upsides. Like, uh…well…"

Her words trailed off as Ilia's top half practically disappeared inside a massive thruster with a wrench in hand, arching her back in a way that made Emerald's face burn. Oscar just chuckled and shook his head once more, smiling to himself. He could tell there were a lot of reasons Cinder's former pawn had been trying to better herself, and one of those reasons was hip-deep in mechanical parts and kicking one leg into the air…much to her admirer's delight and embarrassment.

Ah, to be young and in love again… Ozpin thought almost wistfully.

He wasn't brave enough to ask what he meant by the word "again." Not after today. So instead he kept watching and waiting and talking idly with Emerald, an unlikely companion in these even more unlikely circumstances. Eventually, after several hours of unease and restlessness, the shuttle crew called everyone over for an emergency field meeting, at which point over a hundred humans, Faunus, Agori, and Glatorians gathered at the heart of the launch site.

Oscar had just managed to weave his way to the front when Winter dropped out of the sky and touched down next to him. Her unsteady footing and slight waver went unnoticed by everyone but him, but he said nothing in that moment. Yet another mistake of his to regret later.

"Report," intoned the icy Maiden as she pulled out her Scroll and connected it to a cylindrical communication platform. "Shade Control, can you hear us?"

"Just barely…" reported Rumpole between bursts of static, her volume amplified by the speakers within the station. "We lost contact with most of the hawkmasters we sent out there, so the signal relays aren't as effective as they should be…"

"We can probably thank Tyrian for that," said Oscar with a scowl. "We tried calling for help when the Skrall attacked, but couldn't get a clear enough signal. And knowing Tyrian, he's probably long gone by now."

"Ugh, that sick bastard…" growled Yang, hair already starting to simmer. "What I wouldn't give for a chance to pound him into the dirt."

"Get in line," muttered Jaune, one hand gripping the hilt of Crocea Mors.

Raanu's voice was worried and pensive, even through the static. "The fact that the Skrall were able to find you at all is…concerning. Still, I'm glad you were able to survive your first encounter with them, and come away relatively unscathed even. It's an accomplishment few others can claim."

"Well, except for the fact that the shuttle and rocket got thrashed."

"Metus!"

"What? I'm just being honest."

Perditus cleared his throat. "Speaking of which…the good news is, we managed to fix most of the damage to the rocket and the shuttle. It was easy enough to rewire circuits and weld the hull back together, and replace the pressure seals -"

"Most of the damage?" Winter furrowed her brow. "What about the rest?"

"I'm guessing that's what the bad news is," remarked Fox with a tired sigh.

"You'd be right about that," reported Azina morosely. ""Most of the oxygen canisters in the shuttle got slashed open by the Skrall, and we don't have the time or the tools to make replacements. If the crew I picked out goes up there, the cabin'll run out of air by the time we leave the atmosphere. We'd suffocate long before getting Amity Satellite into place, much less getting it set up."

A ripple of mutters swept through the crowd. Crotesius looked like he was holding back an explosive tirade, and the Water Tribe twins at his side didn't look much happier. Blake's ears drooped. Velvet shrank into herself. Oscar's heart sank.

"That…sounds like a problem…" groused Metus.

"So going on the shuttle's a one-way trip?" Emerald scoffed. "Great. Glad to know we hauled all this crap out here, just to send bodies and scrap metal into space."

"Emerald!" hissed Ilia, skin turning red with rage. "That's not helpful, and you know it!"

"She's right, though," growled Harriet, folding her arms over her chest and scowling. "If we can't send a living crew up with the satellite, then we can't launch Amity. And if we can't launch Amity, then what the hell are we even doing here?"

More dissenting voices rang out. More disparaging remarks. Perditus weathered all of them patiently for a few moments, before tapping away on his Scroll and gently urging everyone to quiet down.

"We're not completely out of options to make this work." He double-checked the crowded equations in the hard-light screen. "If my math is right - which it almost always is - the remaining tanks have just enough oxygen for a three-hour flight with a crew of one. Configuring Amity and setting up the CCT network is an automated process that needs to be monitored at short range, one that takes about a hundred minutes to complete. So that should leave enough time to launch, get into position, run the satellite setup, disengage the shuttle, and come back down to Remnant. It'd be a tight window, and there wouldn't be much room for error…but in theory, it might still be possible to complete the mission. Just not with the full crew Azina had planned to take."

Sun hummed in thought. "Reduce the number of people on the ship, and the air lasts longer. Makes sense to me."

"But that means whoever goes up there would be flying solo," hummed Maria, mechanical eyes clicking pensively. "That's…dangerous. Especially for something like this."

"Agreed, that's a lot of weight on the word 'might' there," noted Tarix with an apprehensive frown. "Surely you know that there's a difference between theory and reality, Perditus."

"I'm not saying it'd be a walk in the oasis," sighed the chief Glatorian scientist. "I'm just saying we might still have a chance, however improbable. It'd depend on the pilot, of course…if they don't know what they're doing, it definitely will be a one-way trip."

"Then I'll go," said Azina without a moment's hesitation. "I know systems and shuttles better than anyone, and I especially know the plan. I can make the trip alone, pilot the shuttle and the station into orbit, run the configuration process, and come down before the air runs out -"

"No you will not, Azina!" Raanu's voice poured through the comm station with an anger Oscar had never heard before. "I forbid you from doing this! It's too dangerous for any one person, least of all you! We need you! I need you!"

Even Azina flinched, glowing eyes faltering for a moment before she sputtered and shook her head. "Father, this isn't about me! It's about this world, the people, and its future! I'm willing to lay down my life, if it means -!"

"Well I'm not!" barked the elder Agori. "I can't lose you, Azina - and if you go up there, I very well might!"

Yang's eyes snapped to a dangerous shade of red. "Y'know, I'm getting real tired of overprotective dads thinking they know what's best for their little girls, and stopping them from doing the right thing."

"Yang, stop," chided Blake. "This isn't about that. It's more than just being worried about Azina's safety - it's about her survival."

"Not only that, she's our best shot at figuring out the Drive Core." Perditus shook his head. "Raanu's right, Azina. It's too risky to send you up."

"Well then who else should do this?!" snapped the Jungle Tribe Agori. "If I go up, I might die. But if someone else goes up, they will die! Can you live with that, Father? Perditus? Any of you? Can you honestly ask someone to give up their life to try this, with no guarantee that they'll even succeed?"

"I'll bet the Winter Maiden would give that order in a heartbeat," said a nearby Vacuan Huntress with a scoff. "She's just like her old boss, after all."

Sapphire eyes flared to life with magical flames. "Bite your tongue! I'm nothing like him!"

That comment opened the floodgates to a huge argument, with everyone yelling and roaring over each other to make their voices heard. Some argued for scrubbing the mission entirely, or trying again another day. Others pointed out that they might not get another chance, especially with the Skrall aware of their plan. Tempers flared from the heat and the stress of the drive. Insults and accusations flew and flowed like wine at a dinner party. Even Oscar's friends joined the shouting match, their words and arguments lost in the cacophony.

And so we fall apart in the eleventh hour, angry and divided… Ozpin heaved a mental sigh. Just like always.

That comment lit a fire in Oscar, who furrowed his brow.

"…I'll do it."

Oscar?

He pushed through the sea of arguing faces, clambered onto a half-empty Dustfruit drum standing nearby, and banged Long Memory against its side with a series of loud thumps. Slowly the fires of rage simmered down. Slowly everyone turned to look at him. Slowly realization dawned on them all.

"If one person's life is the price to pay for this, then let it be mine," he said again, louder this time. "I'll do it."

Robyn covered her mouth as she gasped. Yang's fiery hair fizzled out instantly as she frantically shook her head. Jaune's jaw dropped as his eyes widened. Even Winter's brow shot up in shock. Others around them from all walks of life - Atlesian, Vacuan, even Magnan - were left stunned and surprised, the entire launch site going eerily quiet in the face of his declaration.

"Oscar…" Azina whispered, the first to find her voice in the silence. "I…don't understand. I thought you said you couldn't be part of the crew."

"That was when we had the luxury of choice," he answered with a sigh. "It's true that I was a pilot in a past life…in several past lives, actually. I may not have flown space shuttles, but I have flown almost everything else in Remnant's history of aviation. If you can record instructions on what to do and where to go, I'll carry them out and bring the Amity Satellite online."

"And what if things go wrong up there, Ozzie?" Theodore's voice was crackling with static and apprehension. "You might be magic, but you're still human. And last time I checked, humans don't do well when the air runs out…or when they're locked inside flaming wrecks that fall from the sky."

His thundering heart reminded him of that all too well. "Then I'll just have to work quickly and carefully to avoid both of those. If I succeed, the world will enter a new age of communication. And if I don't? Well…"

Oscar bit his lip and tightened the grip on his cane. "…I'm sure Ozpin will pop up somewhere else, in someone else's mind, and find you all again eventually. Like Metus said, I'm expendable."

Oscar, you know that isn't -

Was he wrong? Don't lie to me.

Ozpin's sullen silence was answer enough.

As he hopped off the drum and made his way past former students and current friends, a steel hand snapped out and locked around his wrist. He turned, a sharp retort or a blast of magic ready for whatever method Yang had planned to stop him, only for none of them to be necessary. The blonde brawler fell to one knee and pulled him into a tight hug, one that made his ribs ache and his heart shatter.

"You're not expendable, Oscar." Her words were soft and choked with emotion, missing all her usual bravado. "Please…don't ever talk about yourself like that, because you're not. You're important to us. To Ruby. To Qrow, and Nora, and Ren, and everyone else here. Not because you're some ancient wizard with all the answers and all this magic…but because you're you. Please don't say that doesn't matter. It matters so much."

Jaune came over and added his own embrace to the display, followed by Emerald and Blake and Maria and even Azina. More people came to join the group hug, like Robyn and Fiona and Elm and others who only saw a little boy putting his life on the line for a bigger cause. Their touch, combined with the warmth of Yang as she held him tighter, was enough to finally crack the wall of emotions Oscar had spent months building up.

"I…I want to be me," he muttered as tears spilled down his face. "I want that to matter. I want to be like all of you, fighting for a better world to grow up in…but I know I have to be him, too. And I don't know how to do both…"

"We'll figure it out with you," promised Jaune. "Oscar, Ozpin, whoever else…what you call yourself doesn't matter to us. You're our friend, and nothing will change that."

Blake bit back a sniffle as she nodded, her chin rubbing against the back of his head. "We never would have made it to Atlas…never made it here…if you hadn't been there every step of the way. You're just like Ruby in that sense - you're the heart of not just this team, but this entire Kingdom, and we wouldn't be here if we didn't believe in you and love you. And if you're absolutely sure this is what you want to do, then…" A few tears fell into his hair.

"Then I guess we'll be right here, waiting for you to come back." Maria let out a dry, raspy chuckle. "You wouldn't disappoint a sweet little old lady now, would you?"

Despite himself, he let out a little sob-laugh of his own before burying his face into Yang's bare shoulder once more. "I wouldn't dream of it. Thank you…everyone, thank you. I…it's easier to be me, and him, and to do stuff like this with…with all of you here. It means a lot to me. To both of us."

"If you succeed, this will be a milestone achievement for you and your people - and I have every intention of helping you succeed." Azina's metal claws tapped his shoulder before withdrawing from the embrace. "My crew and I will set up the shuttle for you, and calibrate all the equipment to human standards. There's a lot of work to do…but rest assured, we will be ready when you are."

Oscar allowed himself to smile even through the tears, as one by one people started pulling away to prepare for the mission. Winter, who'd stood at an arm's length away from the group hug the entire time, pulled her Scroll out of the comms station and angrily marched in the opposite direction. Blake gave him one more nuzzle before letting go, Jaune patted his shoulder twice in a brotherly way, Maria playfully ruffled his hair, and Yang bumped foreheads affectionately on the way out. Only Emerald, once more to his surprise, refused to withdraw from the embrace, holding onto him from behind with her own face buried into the back of his shirt.

"Oz, if you're listening in there…" she choked out through dusty tears. "You'd better keep Oscar safe for the whole trip, and bring him back down without a hair out of place. This is a good kid you've found, someone who gave me an honest chance for once in my life. I'm not gonna let you ruin him, you gray-haired asshole."

Oscar let out another small, sob-like chuckle of his own as he twisted around to return the hug. "He says…the plan was never to do anything less, Emerald."

"Gonna hold you both to that," muttered Emerald as she finally pulled away, blinking back her last tears and slinking over to a waiting Ilia's side. Oscar watched her go for a moment, then pulled out his Scroll and made a private call to an old friend. It took a solid minute to connect, and the picture quality was atrocious once it did, but he didn't need more than a few pixels to see the pain and worry on Theodore, the apprehension on Rumpole, and the venomous glares between Metus and Raanu.

If you wanna take the wheel for this talk, go right ahead Oz.

He could feel silent relief and gratitude from the former Headmaster as his words and thoughts briefly surfaced to encompass his own, like the tide rising to cover a sandy shore.

"Ozzie…" choked the Headmaster. "No. Oscar…I…hmm…"

He put on his best reassuring smile. "It's not like you to be at a loss for words, Theodore."

That got a choked laugh out of the boisterous brawler. "Hah…well, first time for everything. Just…be careful up there, alright? Petra's already gotten used to this face of yours, and…well, I guess I have too…"

"This could be an era-defining moment in the history of Remnant," offered Rumpole, standing on Theodore's desk to put a hand on his shoulder. "Make sure you come back, so we can learn all about it from a primary source."

Oscar had to laugh at the historian's focus, as always, being her field of study. "I'll try to stay unbiased in my memoirs."

Metus scoffed and rolled his optics. "Y'know, we wouldn't even have to worry about you not coming back if someone hadn't been such a stick in the sand. Congratulations, Raanu - you just convinced a child to take what might be a one-way trip into space. Hope you're proud of yourself for that one."

"That's hardly necessary, Metus," scolded Rumpole.

"No, he…he's right…" In stark contrast to how he'd sounded before, Raanu's voice was almost pitiful and weak now. "Spirits above, I…I didn't want it to come to this. To come to you. I'm so sorry, Oscar…if I'd actually gone out there with the rest of you, I would've taken Azina's place in an instant…"

Oscar shook his head. "The people of Bara Magna need your leadership just as much as Remnant needs mine. And it's still my choice, regardless of how much you blame yourself. In all my past lives, I've asked far too many young souls to risk everything for the greater good. It's past time that I start risking myself for once."

The elder Agori nodded numbly for a moment, before pulling his helmet off and burying his face into his hands. "I know. I just…I had to protect my daughter. You understand, yes?"

Memories of a past life, of a warm hearth and a happy family staring up with silver eyes, floated into his mind as he nodded. "I do. And that's also part of why I'm doing this. Why we're doing this together."

His hand gripped Long Memory unconsciously.

"To protect everyone."

The moon had swapped places with the sun by the time preparations were complete.

Oscar sat as comfortably as he could in the shuttle cockpit, staring at the modified consoles and controls in front of him. A joystick for controlling pitch, levers that controlled the thrust of his ship and the rocket itself, two boxy monitors on either side of him that flickered with amber light, a stand for his Scroll, a digital clock along the ceiling displaying a countdown until the oxygen ran out, and an emergency eject button with a note reading "DO NOT PRESS WHILE IN SPACE" glued to the side. Everything looked like it was being held together with duct tape and desperate prayers, but the Magnan scientists and engineers had assured him that it would work. He didn't feel brave enough to argue with them.

"So I've recorded every step of the process," said Azina as she made some last-minute adjustments by his side, tapping away at the mounted Scroll with shaky metallic hands. "Make sure you follow my instructions as closely as you can, both to get Amity into position and to activate it once you're in orbit. I've also written down all the steps and translated them into your alphabet, in case you prefer reading to listening…oh, and I've also double-checked all the instruments and sensors to account for less mass on board than originally calculated. Just remember to take slow, steady breaths to let the oxygen last for as long as possible -"

"Azina."

"- and keep your harness fastened at all times -"

"Azina."

"- and if you feel like you have to vomit from motion sickness, don't worry that's completely normal -"

"Azina."

That finally made the young Agori stop and look at him, at which point he shot her his best reassuring smile.

"Thank you," he said gently, laying his hands over hers and patting reassuringly. "You've done a lot to make this happen, and I'm grateful for all your help. I'm sure I'll have plenty of guidance during my flight, even without you there in person."

Azina looked down at their joined hands for a moment, before giving a smile of her own and shifting to hold his palms in trembling metallic fingers. "I know. I just…" She let out a tired sighed. "Make sure you come back, okay? For your world. For your friends. For the future."

"I'm doing this to make Remnant a better place," answered Oscar with a small nod. "I definitely plan on coming back to be part of it."

"Good, good." Azina nodded back. "Best of luck up there, Oscar. Oh, and uh…don't be surprised if you start feeling like you're being ripped apart."

"…beg pardon?"

"Still not sure if humans can survive the G-forces of orbital exit and re-entry…" mused the engineer with a furrowed brow. "Maybe Aura will help in keeping you intact? Oh, that reminds me, I should really go check the seals on the outer hull again…"

"Azina, what does that mean."

But the alien woman was already out of the ship and sealing the hatch behind her, all without so much as an explanation. Oscar wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

If it's any consolation, getting torn apart stops being painful after the first few seconds. Especially once the nervous system gets severed.

…yep, this was worse. Definitely worse.

Fortunately, he didn't have much time to second-guess himself. The shuttle rumbled as a pair of dune runners towed it into position, bringing it closer to the unholy construct designed to launch it into space. Oscar had to crane his neck to see the entire fully-assembled rocket in all its glory, for lack of a better word - it looked like a kid had taken apart all their toys and put them back together without logic or reason. The alien-looking booster rocket had been strapped to the top of Amity Coliseum, its other end capped off with a huge bulbous mass of white steel. Four massive towers of scrap metal were mounted around the chunk of Gravity Dust, giving the craft "legs" to stand on like the world's shakiest model kit. And even as they approached, as the final piece of the puzzle came sliding across the sands, he could see Agori climbing over the components doing last-minute checks or throwing lava-orange melons into the fuel tanks.

"Shuttle's ready for docking," called Maria from one of the dune runners. "Oscar, you strapped in?"

He gave the modified crash webbing a firm tug against his chest, then thumbed the Scroll. "Yep. Nice and tight here. Is Amity ready to fly?"

"Ready as she'll ever be," said Perditus from the other car pulling him along. "All Agori, clear out and pull back. Mister Arc? Miss Violette?"

"Already boosting her," called Jaune. "C'mon, Nebula. Just gotta lift it one more time."

"Alright, but I'm working with one good arm here tonight, so it might be a bit shaky." Nebula groaned. "Stupid Skrall and their stupid spears…"

The shuttle lurched and swayed as it was carefully lifted up in shifting fields of gravity, tilting its nose up to the heavens and floating closer to the booster rocket. Oscar held onto the sides of the seat and took a few more steadying breaths, trying not to be unnerved by the giant spaceship looming over him. When Nebula's Semblance proved too imprecise to properly dock him to Amity, even with Jaune boosting her, Winter flew over and gave a little push of her own until everything snapped together with metallic clunks and pressurized hisses.

As soon as the connection was made, the boxy monitors on either side flickered and changed to display their pre-programmed digital instruments. On his left, a highly-pixelated sphere meant to represent a space-borne view of Remnant. On his right, a crude triangle sitting in a grid of numbers that climbed higher and higher. The trajectory plotter and the altitude tracker, respectively. The first one would calculate the arc of his flight based on sensors he couldn't see or understand. The second told him how high he was flying - or, more accurately, how far he had to fall if something went wrong.

"Shuttle secured," barked the Winter Maiden, giving Oscar one puzzling glance before flying out of sight. "Pressurize everything."

A hiss in the cabin set him on edge, before realizing that it was just his air supply warming up. The big glowing timer overhead started counting down from three hours, second by second. Oscar tried to look anywhere but there.

"All components are sealed up and ready to fly," reported Crotesius. "Is everyone clear of the blast zone?"

"Tarduk's crew was the last one out," reported Azina. "All accounted for."

"Then we'll activate Amity's external thrusters on your signal."

"Roger that, Winter. Launching in five minutes."

Five minutes. If he was gonna have a panic attack or a mental breakdown, he'd prefer to have it in either the next five minutes or not at all. His stomach tingled with either unease or excitement - he wasn't sure which, probably both - and his lips felt dry and dusty. Despite the climate-controlled cabin and the cool flow of pressurized oxygen flowing slowly into the cockpit, he still felt beads of sweat rolling down his neck, and that only intensified with each minute Azina counted down from the outside.

Then she started counting down seconds, and the urge to dry-heave only grew. He wasn't even moving yet, why was his stomach already fighting him?

"T-minus ten…nine…eight…"

Oz, got any last-minute advice?

"…five…four…"

Yes. Hold on tight.

"…two…one…ignition."

BOOOOOOOOM!

The entire world seemed to shake and shudder and fall away as the rocket sailed into the sky, faster than any airship had ever gone or should ever go. Oscar's scream of alarm escaped his lips before he could stop it, but it didn't last long - he slammed against the back of the seat hard enough to knock the wind out of him, hard enough for his Aura to actually flicker in warning. He followed Ozpin's advice as best he could and locked his hands around the joystick in a death grip, fighting to keep the rocket level and fighting harder to keep himself focused. Blue and black streaks raced by. Clouds scattered upon impact with the visor. His teeth rattled and his bones shook. If riding in a caravan truck for six hours felt like a constant earthquake, this felt like the moon was colliding with Remnant. Again.

"We ha…liftoff! Repeat, we h…"

The local comms signal broke off in a haze of static. Not surprising, given that according to the altitude tracker they'd climbed hundreds of miles in the span of just a few seconds. Oscar dared to take one hand off the controls and shakily thumb the slotted Scroll, pulling up the video file prepared for him and this voyage.

"Keep the whole craft pointing straight up until you reach the upper atmosphere," said Azina's pre-recorded likeness. "The auxiliary thrusters should have just enough Combustion Dust to get you that far - once they burn out, disengage the Colosseum assembly and let it drift away, then engage the booster rocket itself at full power."

Keep the craft level. Okay. He could do that, especially considering the hand on the joystick had suddenly developed a premature case of rigor mortis. Oscar went back to holding the controls like a lifeline, gritting his teeth and trying not to focus on how dizzy and floaty everything felt.

When the rocket started slowing down enough for his mind to process complex thoughts again, he knew it was time for the next step. He tapped his Scroll and tuned into the external camera feed just to make sure; as he suspected, the four massive thrusters propelling Amity into the sky had gone dim, with nothing but plumes of smoke pouring out from its scorched nozzles. With a few more button presses he felt a thump throughout the craft as Amity Colosseum separated from the alien booster rocket, flaring its own engines and Dust stabilizers to hover gently back down to the desert far far far below.

He was flying higher than any person on Remnant had ever flown, and with the flip of a lever he went even higher.

The booster rocket came alive like a newborn star, rising so fast it created multiple sonic booms in its wake. Oscar held the joystick even tighter than he had before, more for his own comfort than proper steering. The chair creaked and groaned as it strained to keep him in place. All the cameras outside the shuttle were blinded by the blue-white trail of flames, and a few seconds later the air resistance tore them away.

So much for looking over our shoulder, he mused with an uneasy pit in his shuddering gut.

Better the cameras than a wing or a hull fragment, noted Ozpin.

Azina's next set of instructions gave him something else to focus on, at least. "With the rocket at full thrust, steer the nose east until you're at a forty-five degree angle with Remnant itself. Hold that position until you reach the edge of the upper atmosphere, then tilt again until you're almost parallel to the horizon. This stage is crucial both for getting you off-planet and for giving you a head start on charting the orbital path - should take you about four minutes."

It was the longest four minutes of Oscar's life, and probably of Ozpin's lives too. He gently nudged the joystick and tilted it to one side, feeling his insides lurch alongside the rocket as it matched his movements. The rushing winds fought back against his every movement, but he fought harder and forced the craft into yielding to his will. Within a few seconds, the horizon cut an angle across his visor; a few more, and it became a dividing line between the world and the abyss beyond.

As soon as he did that, though, a terrible tearing sensation shot through his system. Like he was falling, but in reverse, and stronger than even the winds he felt during his fall from Atlas. It was tolerable when it was pushing him back into the seat. It was hell when he was flying sideways. Despite his teeth grinding together, despite knowing there was limited air, he screamed in pain anyway.

Oh. So that's what Azina meant by G-forces…

Oscar heaved and whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut, unamused by the wizard's commentary. Oz…it hurts…

I know, but you must keep your eyes open. You must stay focused.

I…can't…the sky is…wrong…it makes it worse!

The soul within his own hummed pensively then intoned with a gentle thought. Perhaps it would help to engage the shutters, if the view outside is exacerbating your pain. So long as we hold this position and pay attention to the instruments, we should be fine. I would rather you see only the cabin instead of nothing at all.

He was willing to try anything at this point. Forcing his eyes open with rivers of tears, he flicked a switch with all his might. His efforts were rewarded by the sight of steel plates sliding over the shuttle visor with a mechanical hiss, blocking out the tilted horizon and darkening the cabin. Only the amber lights of the altitude tracker and the trajectory plotter cast their pale glows on him, letting him know he was still alive and on the right path.

Thanks, that's… Oscar dared to take a deep, calming breath and wiped his eyes on a dusty shoulder. That's a little better.

Stay the course just a few moments longer, said Ozpin encouragingly. We're halfway through that four-minute stretch of thrust.

Without a view of the world outside to aggravate his vertigo, Oscar was better able to focus on keeping this new position stable. The trajectory plotter showed a tiny little arc sprouting from the surface of Remnant's digital likeness, while the altitude tracker finally reached the limit of its pre-programmed heights. Azina's next set of instructions played at that point, taking his attention away from the pressure in his ears and the lump forming in his throat.

"Once you're past the atmosphere, ease up on the throttle and enter this keyslate sequence on the terminal to replace the altitude tracker with the orbital guidance program." A series of strange symbols appeared on the Scroll screen. "We've already done the math and the calculations to get Amity into a stable orbit around Remnant, so don't worry about that. All you need to do is line up the rocket with the projected vector before you reach the apoapsis - that's the big triangle on the trajectory plotter, should be at the very peak of the parabola - then fire the thrusters for sixty seconds at full blast. After that, kill power to the engines and run the satellite's configuration process, then sit back and enjoy the view. The hard part's over…at least, for now."

Well, that was reassuring. Oscar slowed down to the point that his teeth no longer rattled quite as much, then shifted his gaze to the odd computer on his right. He poked and tapped the bubble-shaped buttons awkwardly - how strange, a society that still used mechanical typing implements instead of hard-light consoles - and eventually replaced the altitude tracker with a different display. An orange pixelated image of the rocket flared to life and seared into his eyes, a few too many degrees askew of a similarly-shaped green outline. With a few twists and turns of the shuttle controls, and a couple more prayers to anyone listening for good measure, the two images slowly but surely started to align.

"Come on…" he muttered, gripping the joystick so tightly his knuckles were surely white beneath the gloves. "Just a little more…"

The entire rocket swayed and lurched as he wrestled with the controls and guided it into position, though it didn't fight him nearly as hard as it had in the sky. At this height the biggest hurdle was how each movement threw him around in his seat, as his legs and hair and coat tails started drifting with every minute correction. Bile crept up his throat. Blood drained from his head. He tried to ignore all those sensations, tried focusing solely on the computer screen, tried trusting his grip and his harness to keep him rooted, but every part of his body still screamed at him that this was wrong. That he was going to die up here, cold and alone and so far away from home -

Breathe through the nose, and out through the mouth, intoned Ozpin. We still have plenty of oxygen - you can afford to take deep breaths right now. It'll help you remain calm, trust me.

Oscar licked the blood from his bitten lip and did just that, feeling a wave of focus wash over him. That gave him clarity of mind to fully tune out the discomfort and nausea for a moment, to focus on the progress bar as the projected rocket slowly settled into the outline. Eighty percent aligned. Eighty-seven percent. Ninety-two percent. Ninety-five…ninety-seven…ninety-nine…

Now.

He slammed forward on the throttle control as soon as the entire screen flashed green, and felt the shuttle rumble as the booster rocket flared back to life. His body once more was thrown against the seat, but this time it was almost comforting - the cold steel and worn padding gave him an anchor to hold onto, a familiar feeling to remind himself he was alive and awake and doing this. The timer on the monitor counted down each passing second, while the arc on the trajectory plotter stretched farther, higher, further away from the digital globe. After a minute of full power to the thrusters, the monitors chirped with another series of blinking lights, at which point he cut the engines and slumped back in his chair.

Well done, Oscar. We've established a stable orbit…the first person from Remnant to do so.

The flying farmhand just sort of nodded numbly, slowly letting out the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. He glanced once again at the trajectory plotter, pleased to see that the arc had cleared Remnant's surface and transformed into a near-perfect closed circle around the planet. After grabbing his Scroll and plugging in a few commands to activate Amity's setup sequence, and after gathering every bit of courage he still had left, he dared to re-open the steel shutters covering the windows at long last.

He was glad he did.

"Whoa…" he breathed.

Indeed… agreed Ozpin.

The first human to reach space had one hell of a view. Half the shuttle's visor was taken up by a huge orb of blue and white, so large and grand that Oscar couldn't even see all of it at once. The other half was encompassed in an ink-black abyss that seemed to stretch forever, decorated solely by dim stars and distant shapes and a familiar half-shattered moon. And dead ahead, at the other end of the booster rocket, he watched as Remnant and Magnan engineering came together in a beautiful display, as marble-white steel casings jettisoned away to reveal a CCT tower larger than any below, as a massive concave dish unfolded around it like the petals of a flower in bloom. Everything was silent save for the thumps that rocked the shuttle and the chirping of his instruments, and yet that made the sight even more powerful and striking.

"Amity Satellite configuration in progress," announced an automated voice through the Scroll. "Beginning calibrations…estimated completion time: one hundred and sixteen minutes."

Oscar looked at the oxygen timer, which had just over two hours still on the clock, and indulged in a sigh of relief. He kept one eye on the Scroll and the progress bar, just in case the program locked up, but most of his attention was on the world beyond his shuttle. The world beyond his world. The world of celestial objects and marvels and dangers, so far away yet so close. So close, he wanted to reach out and scoop up a handful of stars to bring back home.

…you know, it's funny in a way.

Oddly enough, not even the biggest threat to his identity chiming in could ruin his mood. If anything, he was glad he wasn't experiencing this alone. "What is it, Oz? Finally see something new for the first time in a while?" Talking aloud to Ozpin might have been a waste of air, but it reminded him that he was alive.

Yes… intoned the ancient wizard, awe in his voice. I have walked the face of Remnant for over a thousand lifetimes, Oscar. I have worn a thousand faces, lived a thousand lives, and died a thousand deaths. Yet none of those lives ever dared to dream they might one day see their home - my home - from this angle…from this high a stage. It's beautiful…but also humbling.

"Everything looks a lot smaller from up here, huh?"

Indeed…and in some way, that troubles me. Our struggles...our trials...are they nothing, in the face of a vast universe? Is Remnant little more than just one more world orbiting one more star, struggling on like the people of every other planet out there? This world that I've sacrificed so much to protect...the world I've watched change in so many ways...is it all so insignificant, in the grand scheme of things?

Well that was slightly sobering. Indeed, it was tempting to look just a little further out and see an entire universe that didn't have to worry about things like Salem, or Grimm, or two simultaneous refugee crises. Were the worlds beyond his own living lives of luxury and light? Or had many of them already succumbed to their own darkness, with Remnant or Bara Magna or even Mata Nui due to follow in their footsteps?

Would even those distant stars eventually flicker and die in obscurity?

Oscar dared to believe otherwise.

"I mean…yeah, maybe that's one way to look at it," he eventually said with a shrug. "But then again, I'd say it's pretty significant to us. It's our planet, shadows and all, and it's full of life that's beautiful and precious. That's why we're doing this, why we're even up here in the first place - to protect not just the world, but the people who call it home. People like the Magnans. People like the humans and the Faunus. People like us. If all that doesn't already have any meaning compared to all the stars…then we'll give it meaning. Together. Just like we always have."

Ozpin was silent for a long moment, then chuckled softly within his mind. If it was possible for him to smile, he surely did so alongside his next thought. You're a far wiser man than I ever was, Oscar.

"I dunno," he said with a laugh of his own. "The voice that gave me a push was a bit of a wise guy himself."

The rest of the hour was spent waiting in silence, basking in the otherworldly view and etching it into two sets of memories. Oscar looked down at the Scroll a few times to check the automated setup, but he needn't have bothered. Whatever software Perditus had cooked up was doing its job, and things proceeded smoothly as lines of code scrolled by and bars filled up with nary a warning or error message in sight. He tried not to look at the other timer if he could help it. No need to ruin the view with that kind of stress.

Finally, with about fifteen minutes left on the clock and breaths a little too thin for his liking, a burst of static blared through the speakers before giving way to a hopeful voice. "Test, one two…test, one two…can you hear me up there, Mister Pine?"

A wry smile graced his lips as he keyed the comms. "I can hear you loud and clear, Perditus. Did it work?"

The Glatorian scientist laughed. "Well, considering that we're even talking at all…yeah, I'd say it worked."

"Oscar!"

"Oscar?"

"Oscar, are you okay?!"

"You better not be dead up there!"

He let out a laugh as Yang, Jaune, Blake, and Emerald all vied for his attention. "Relax, everyone…I'm okay. It was a bit of a bumpy ride, but I'm alive. Thanks for worrying about me…how are things down there?"

"Signals are green all across the board!" declared Maria. "Amity's holding steady up there and parsing all the broadcasts!"

"Shade's already receiving inbound communications from all the other Kingdoms," reported Rumpole with a rare audible grin. "Vale, Mistral, Menagerie…even the remaining settlements in Solitas are reaching out. It seems the rest of the world hasn't taken long to notice our work here."

"Ha ha!" boomed Theodore, his voice at long last free from crackling static. "Ozzie, you old goat! You did it! You actually did it! The CCT network is back in action and better than ever before!"

"Congratulations, Remnant," said Azina with a proud smile. "You've just launched your first orbital satellite. Oscar, go ahead and disconnect the shuttle and fly back down. We'll send a dune runner to pick you up wherever you land."

"I'll try not to make you drive too far," he said with another laugh of disbelief. He'd done it. He'd actually done it. A new age of communication, perhaps even a new age of discovery and scientific pursuit…all of that was possibly on the table right now. He and his friends had accomplished what generations of brilliant engineers and daring pilots had failed to do - escape Remnant's atmosphere and reach the stars, if only for a few hours. And with the Amity Satellite now forming the backbone of the CCT network, a keystone that even Salem would be hard-pressed to reach and destroy…perhaps a better Remnant wasn't such a distant dream after all.

All that and more was on his mind as he threw another lever and disconnected the shuttle from the satellite, allowing it to drift away and giving it a forceful nudge back towards Remnant. The world and the stars spun around him as he tumbled wildly for a moment, as he coaxed the nearly-spent thrusters to push him into something resembling a nosedive. Once the craft fell far enough to hit the planet's atmosphere again, air resistance and the Manta's own aerodynamic frame did the rest of the work…and the heat shields along the front did an admirable job of keeping the burn of atmospheric re-entry from incinerating the shuttle and the young wizard inside.

Despite the rising heat, despite the corona of red washing over the visor, Oscar wasn't nervous. As soon as the Dust engines came online, as soon as the elemental mineral realized it was back home, he throttled it and pulled out of the death dive with Ozpin's guidance. The shuttle sailed across the desert sky, bathed in stars and clouds and the familiar nightly backdrop of Vacuo. A serene end to a chaotic flight, which after the last few hours was exactly what the young Huntsman wanted and needed.

Halfway through his return flight, however, the chatter over reconnected comms caught his attention.

"Hey, uh…Azina? Is it normal to still see satellites after you launch 'em? Y'know, from the ground?"

"Not typically, Yang. Why? What do you…oh. Yes, that is quite unusual. Maybe it's the booster rocket we're seeing from this distance? It does need to still run at some capacity, just to keep making micro adjustments to Amity's orbital path…"

"Well whatever it is, it's…almost familiar. Almost like…"

"Yeah, I hear you, Blondie. It's weird, right?"

Oscar dared to twist around in his seat to look up at where he'd come from, eyes widening as he noticed the oddity as well. Among the cluster of stars in that part of the sky, a new shining light had joined them. It almost looked like it belonged there, like it was a star in and of itself.

A red star.

(A/N): Hwaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Anyway, apologies if I got anything wrong with regards to the specifics of Oscar's space flight, or if in reality one satellite wouldn't be enough to keep global communications active for an entire planet forever. I'm a fanfic writer with a Bachelor's degree in Mechanical Engineering, not a space mathematician or an astronaut, and trying to do any kind of in-depth research made my head spin and my eyes roll in their sockets. In fact, that's part of what made this chapter so hard to write for the longest time, that being trying to toe the line between making a dramatic story and just flat-out creating one big, complicated word problem in a textbook. (The other parts of why it was hard to write came from burnout, anxiety, depression, lack of time…you know, the usual suspects.)

It was as I was writing the rough draft for this after my break that I forced myself to step back and go "RWBY physics are not the same as ours, Rule of Cool dictates everything, stop trying to logic everything out" which gave me the shift in perspective I needed to finish this beast of a chapter. So in the end, I decided to bridge the gaps in my knowledge with what I'm good at: striking descriptions, strong characterization, and a whole lot of navel-gazing on Oscar's part. I hope that was enough, and I hope you enjoyed it!

In any case, with plenty of chapters in the backlog and lots of fuel in the ol' think tank, we're going back to the pre-hiatus schedule! So I'll see you guys again in two weeks, where we go back to Mata Nui and check in on the Bohrok hunt - and maybe a few other things as well, who knows? Thank you all once more for your patience, and thanks for reading! Stay safe, stay sane, tell Viz Media that we want more RWBY, and keep being awesome!

…man it feels good to say that again, haha.