At the southern tip of Sanus, Glanton Derwood hungrily examined a dusty trail with a spyglass. He had stationed himself on a hill overlooking the road. A wicked smile crossed his face as a promising target came into view.

A pale horse was galloping along the path. Its form beat a steady pace along the route. Soon, it would pass right before him, ripe for the taking.

"Incoming!" He called down to his helpers.

"Are you sure about this one?" His sister, Talor, asked even as she tied a handkerchief around her mouth.

"Of course he is." Their brother, Holden, answered while pulling a skull cap over his red hair. "We've been scouting this stick-up for weeks. We know what is coming down the line."

That they did. Crates were constantly being shipped through the air from the Vacuo Wastelands to Vale. There, mined resources were exchanged for foodstuffs and technology. But it was not mere exports and imports they were after.

Not everyone chartered Bullheads for deliveries. Some businesses, either to save on costs or to avoid inspections, used couriers to transport their goods. Because a single person could only carry so much, the value of the cargo had to be exceptionally high.

Lien. Jewels. Expensive trinkets. Whatever they had, the Derwoods wanted them.

"I'm just saying, it wouldn't hurt to wait a little bit to be sure."

"We've waited too long!" Glanton pushed back. "Our funds are running low and this is our best chance of balancing the books. Let's get this done, unless you want to explain to Ma why we haven't delivered?"

Talor gulped, petting her green locks instinctually. "N-no. I don't want that."

"Then get in position."

She reluctantly nodded before scrambling behind a pile of rocks on the far side of the road. Holden did similarly on the near end. They were equipped with a machine pistol and a shotgun respectively. Old models, but still capable of pumping lots of lead in the air.

Their priority was to look intimidating. They had to make whatever chump was heading their way think twice once they were at a standstill. Glanton was meant to get them to stop.

As the steed neared, he loosened a buckle from around a series of tipped over drum containers. The siblings had spent the previous night setting them up to be leaning toward the path. With the binding loosened, all nine kegs rolled over the cliff.

He heard, more than saw, the crash. Copper, cracked wood, and splinters covered the entire width of the road. Water that had once been contained inside the casks had turned the dirt to mush. Job complete, the ground was completely impassable.

Arriving just before the obstacle, the horse slowed down. The robber frowned. He had hoped to freak out the animal enough to toss the passenger. No such luck.

Sliding down the cliff, he approached from behind. In the saddle was a man with black hair. A red traveling cape flowed down and over the rump of the horse. It was tattered at the ends hinting at the scrapes the owner had encountered.

In Glanton's hand was a revolver. Each chamber contained a Dust bullet. Expensive, but well worth the price.

It gave him the confidence to call out. "Hands! Hands! Let me see those hands!"

Talor and Holden revealed themselves at the same time. If the rider did not know they were being held-up, they would now. With this many guns trained on them, they would have no choice but to comply.

And yet, the man did not. He was still. Too still.

Glanton neared the horse. He licked his lips and pushed some of his brown hair out of his eyes. His weapon was ready to start blasting at a moment's notice.

There was no need. Their would-be mark was slumped forward, face buried in horse mane. Glanton thought the guy was already dead until he heard light snoring.

"Wake up!" He jabbed between the ribs with the nose of his revolver.

The sleeper's head turned towards Glanton. Dazed and confused red irises opened. They studied the holder of the gun before closing again.

Breath stinking to high heaven, he asked. "...What are you doing?"

"We're robbing you!" As if it were not obvious.

"And why would you be doing that?"

"Because the Derwood Gang takes what it wants!"

As if commanded, his brother and sister began to hoot. The Derwoods took pride in their dealings. The stranger clearly did not understand. He grunted derisively before straightening up in his seat.

"Trust me, you don't want any of this."

At this pronouncement, Glanton sputtered. This was not going the way he imagined. Even as the rest of his family closed in, the red-eyed fellow did not so much as flinch. Not wanting to be embarrassed, the most senior Derwood present became more insistent.

"Mister, those aren't the kinds of things that the robb-ie ought to be saying to the robb-er. Comprenez-vous? Now off the horse or I'll shoot it out from under you."

Although Glanton had made the threat, and was willing, he would rather not. Killing livestock was not a fun experience. They all had enough of that when rustling farms back in Mistral.

"You really shouldn't. That'll just make my buddy angry." The horse sneezed. Holden's arm trembled. Talor breathed in and out rapidly. "But alright."

They all relaxed as the difficult man stumbled out of the saddle. He was slightly taller than average and athletically skinny. Older, mid-forties. His black pants and gray dress shirt fit loosely. A white overcoat gave his costume structure.

Holden pulled him to the side as Talor kept her gun trained. Glanton busied himself with checking the saddle bag. The equine stood still despite his proximity. It was either well trained or stupid.

Digging inside produced trash: Wrappers; cable ties; empty beer cans. No treasures.

"Where's the money!?" He yelled at the captive.

"Eh, don't usually carry much with me. I either live off the land or people give me food and shelter as payment."

"Payment for what?" Talor asked, trying to lower the temperature.

"This and that. I'm a handy man to have around. Maybe you've heard of me? Qrow Branwen?"

"No…"

"Pfft, figures." He patted his breast pocket. "Do you mind?"

"Don't try anything funny."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

The man fished out a silver flask. He then tipped it back in his mouth and began guzzling. His lips smacked in satisfaction.

Frustrated, Glanton returned to searching. People did not travel a dangerous road like this for no reason. His hand touched something solid under the billet strap. It felt like a handle.

"What've we got here?"

It would not budge at first when he tried to pull. He had to use two hands. At last, something gave. The full weight dropped, nearly tipping him over. He finally got a good look at what was being smuggled.

Attached to a red handle was what looked like a huge utility knife. The blade was about as long and thick as both of Glanton's arms. In the center was a round gearbox that connected the two ends.

"What have we got here?" He repeated in confusion.

"Harbinger." The stranger supplied.

"Huh?"

"Name of my weapon. Harbinger."

"Ominous." Talor butted in.

"That's a different weapon."

A bellow bubbled out of Glanton. He tossed the contraption to the ground. The whole stickup was a bust. Their prisoner chuckled at their misfortune.

"You lot seem to have even worse luck than me." He took another drag. "Kind of funny to be on the other end of this sort of thing. So, how about we make a deal? Walk away and I'll pretend I never saw you."

Glanton had heard about enough from the drunkard. Holden was of a similar mind. He knocked the flask out of Qrow's hand. This is what finally broke the red-eye's composure.

"That was some fine, cheap liquor you wasted."

"Do something about it."

"Fine."

In the blink of an eye, Qrow's fist rocketed into Holden's face. His brother fell to the ground like a marionette with the strings cut. The shotgun he carried was launched away.

The shift into action caught Talor by surprise. His other hand snaked out, ripping her gun out of her possession. This sudden taking caused her to fall on her butt. Rather than try to rise again, she crab-walked away.

The last Derwood standing watched this all go down. His brain started working long enough to get his revolver up again. Qrow did not lunge forward as Glanton might have expected. In fact, he made no antagonistic movements at all. He only spoke.

"Unless you haven't put the context clues together, I'm a huntsman."

"S-stay back!" Glanton hated how his voice broke.

"That offer to walk away has officially expired but I'm willing to offer a new choice. We can either do this the easy way, where you lay down and surrender, or we can go the hard way, where I make you."

"I said stay back!"

"Hard way it is." His lips pursed as he let out a short whistle.

There was a jitter from behind. A sudden beating of hooves. Looking back brought him face to muzzle with an incoming white missile. He could only let out a whimper as the horse bowled him over.


XVII. The Big Gun


Lily Fields sipped coffee as she greeted the new day. She looked out from a balcony atop a greystone outpost enjoying the first rays of the morning. A gentle breeze blew her shoulder length, platinum blonde hair. Her fox-like ears twitched, enjoying the playful chirps of birds.

It was so right. So nice. So peaceful.

Too peaceful to last.

"Director Fields?" A soft voice came in on her radio piece. "This is Dispatch. Do you copy me? Over."

Petulance filled the faunus' mind. This was supposed to be her me-time before the day began. It was only for a moment though. She puffed out her frustration before answering.

"Affirmative, Dispatch. What is the situation? Over."

"Our cameras detected an outrider approaching from the north. Do you have visuals? Over."

"Stand by." She looked in that direction.

Sure enough, a horse was walking the long and winding road. Because the outpost was off the main footpath, they must have had business with them. Official business.

Leading it by the reins was a man. Wind billowed his torn, crimson cape. His clothes puffed out like a sail. An arm went out perpendicular to his body to let the air out. At that moment, he looked just like a scarecrow.

"Director, are you there? Over."

"I have them. Over."

"Should I send a party to intercept? Over."

"Negative." She smiled, recognizing their visitor. "I will handle contact. Over and out."

Stepping over the balcony rail, she dropped to the ground floor. A tuck, a roll, and a flash of Aura later, she was back on her feet. Checking her legs, she laughed. They felt good.

Running down the trail, she saw the horseman as he crossed the perimeter markers. A wave from her got the sentry, a muscular gal with a coilgun trained on him, to stand down. Seeing him get nearer, Lily cupped her mouth to shout.

"Hey Qrow! You almost got your goose cooked!"

"Aye! Not so loud!" He rubbed his blurry eyes. "Lily? That you?"

"The one and only." She rushed in for a hug before pushing off with a twitching nose. "Whew, that's rank! How long have you been out in the Grimmlands this time?"

Grimmlands meaning anywhere without a fortification. Remnant belonged to the Grimm, after all. Only the foolish or the brave stayed outside longer than necessary.

Which of those better described Qrow Branwen, Lily did not know.

"Lost track. What are you doing here? I thought you worked in Vale."

"Got promoted. I'm now the Director of Operations for Vale's Huntsman Lodge system."

The lodges were resupply stations. If ever in trouble, a huntsman or huntress could stay at one for food, shelter, and ammunition. This also made the structures prime targets for bandit raids, hence the heavy security measures.

"Fancy. Guess that means you have to do periodic inspections of all the outposts?"

"Bingo! Now what about you? Need somewhere to lay your weary head for a night?" She wiggled her eyebrows saucily.

"Not quite. I bring a gift." He patted his four-legged companion.

"If I were eight years old, you would be my hero. Alas, as an adult, I have no need for a cute horsey."

"Even one with their Aura unlocked?"

"Really?" Her mind raced with ideas before shaking her head. "We couldn't possibly. Too much turnover out here to keep such a social animal entertained and cared for."

"Rats. How about my second offering?" This time, he indicated the wiggling masses on top of the equine.

There were three individuals there. Two men and a woman. They were not so much riding as being carried along. The trio were on their stomachs, hands and feet bound and hanging over the sides.

Lily had noticed them before but had been politely waiting for an explanation. Qrow liked to be round-about with his disclosures. Trying to get information out of him was tantamount to pulling teeth from a Beowolf.

Now with an invitation, she asked. "Who'd you bring us?"

"This collection of honor roll students tried to hold me up. Unsure if they are fugitives or not, but I figured it was a good guess. Called themselves the 'Dillweed Gang,' if that helps winnow it down."

"That's Derwood Gang!" The middle one called before getting kicked by their fellow detainees.

"Whatever."

"Bring 'em inside and we'll find out." Lily waved him down the path.

Before long, they were at the front entrance. The three-story fortress was imposing to newcomers. Using her ID on the scanner, the iron gate opened.

Qrow proceeded to lift the criminals off the horse one-by-one and rip off their leg restraints. The brown-haired man tried to run as soon as he touched down. He did not get far. A flask beaned him in the back of the head, dropping him instantly.

"Oops." Qrow hiccupped.

Lily tried to stand the runner up, but that ended when he got a good look at her faunus features. "Don't touch me, freak."

She did as requested. He fell on his face. Eventually he found his own way back to his feet.

The three were corralled through the lobby and into a holding area. Each lodge had a temporary detention center for cases such as this. The one here was a medium-sized room divided in half by bars. Inside were two sets of bunk beds, a small sink, and a toilet with a privacy curtain.

It was not the Ambassador's Pointe by any means but was nicer than other facilities. Most jails Lily had seen did not even bother with a sink. The captured gang did not seem to agree. They grumbled as the cage door locked.

Since there was not an assigned warden, Lily logged on to the nearby office terminal. She brought up a database of wanted criminals. Typing in 'Derwood' returned immediate results.

"Here we go. Yep. Right here. Wanted for threatening dignitaries from Menagerie. Glanton, Holden, and Talor Derwood." She said, indicating the brown, red, and green haired people respectively. "Y'all are an eclectic bunch. Cousins?"

"We had different dads." The female of the group said sheepishly.

"Fantastic." Qrow stumbled closer to Lily. "Now that we got that settled, can you take them off my hands? Or am I going to have to frog-march them all the way to Shade Academy?"

"That shouldn't be necessary. We'll hold them."

They had the supplies to feed a few extra mouths. She also did not think the siblings would be around long anyway. Their RAP sheet all but ensured a gendarmerie would be dispatched to transport them away once news of their capture spread.

"Works for me." They turned away from the cells to leave, although Qrow could not resist ribbing them on the way out. "See ya fellas. I'd be lying if I said it was a pleasure."

Holden and Talor sat dispirited on their new beds. Glanton, however, was irate. He practically foamed at the mouth while shaking the bars representing his new life.

"Laugh now, Branwen. I'll remember this!"

"That will make one of us."

"The rest of my kin will-"

The outer door slid shut. The exact threat remained unclear. Lily side-eyed Qrow.

"Did you need to antagonize them?"

"Nope." He smirked. "But did I want to? Oh yes."

It was childish to the extreme, but so like him. That he was the same all these years after graduating Beacon was comforting. The sun rose, fish swam, and Qrow Branwen was still capable of getting under a hardened criminal's skin.

She could not help but grin back. "So, the Derwoods accrued quite the bounty. How do you want to collect? Card? Paper? Voucher? We can pay you once our treasurer approves."

They had plenty of lien on hand. Whoever took possession of the prisoners would reimburse the Lodge in addition to a holding fee. Not a bad deal for everyone involved. Everyone except the Derwoods.

"Can't wait for it. Just wire everything to the usual place."

"Right. Guess you would be in a hurry to get to the city."

Which was too bad. Lily would have liked a chance to catch up. The two had not seen each other in years. Qrow was not the type to stay connected.

He looked at her oddly. "I am? Why? Something happening there?"

"Loads. Ozpin sent a notice requesting your return."

The Branwen was considered a premiere problem solver. Difficult missions involving the stability of the kingdoms were usually sent the veteran's way. Because Qrow traveled so much, the easiest way to contact him was to leave a message with the Huntsman Lodges and wait.

"Great…" He rubbed his face before deciding. "Is there a watering hole around here? How about you tell me all about it over a few drinks."

"Yes, but it's not even noon."

"And?"

She sighed. "Let me inform Dispatch."

/ / /

Neopolitan blew a pink strand from her face. She lay horizontal on a thick branch staring into the sky. The blueness dotted with cream called to her.

Below, a boy was in a wrestling match with a monster. Bucking and yowling, the beast tried to throw off the human clinging to its back. At last, the tip of a sword punctured through its shoulder blade and into the chest cavity.

The Beowolf landed on its stomach. Dead. Jaune shakily stood up. With a harsh tug, he pulled his blade free, bringing forth a spray of viscera.

"Ah!? How does it keep getting in my mouth!?"

Castoffs were the culprit. That would not happen if he stopped using his weapon like an ax. There was no reason to wield such a sharp instrument like his in such an uncivilized manner. But her job was not to teach proper sword fighting. It was to keep him alive until Roman's scheme came to fruition.

Whatever that was.

Communicating with Roman without the boy eavesdropping was, as far as she could tell, impossible. That meant that they could not be as frank with each other as they once were. Although Neo would never admit it, she missed the gentleman thief's easy company.

Roman never bothered her with questions about her feelings. Or with random compliments. Or by being awestruck by her skills. They just understood each other.

That understanding got them far. It helped them both survive in the past under difficult conditions. It would continue to do so in the future. Still, there were limits to non-verbal communication even if she were an expert in that art.

If the plan was to convince the meat puppet to give up on being a huntsman, then it was failing spectacularly. The child treated adversity as a challenge to get better. What should have been an afternoon trip into the woods had turned into a multi-day extravaganza.

They were wasting so much time out here. Their priority should have been crossing names off their enemies list. A list that seemed to be growing exponentially.

Cinder. Her emocore crew. Those White Fang chumps. Neo was even willing to include Junior and his mooks. Cleaning the slate of all of them seemed like an excellent idea.

Yet here she was. Babysitting. While they all got to go about their lives and Roman did not.

Her pulse quickened. A knife sharpened. The urge to kill was rising. Once more, there was nowhere to vent. She had to lay there and stew in those emotions.

"What is that!?"

Attention off the fluffy clouds, Neo turned back to Jaune. He was on guard as a new foe approached. It was different from the canines he had been fighting. This one could fly.

Despite having the fighting prowess of a huntress, Neo was not as well versed in the monsters they fought. She rarely left the big cities, and thus had no reason to know of them beyond the basics. This was no basic Grimm.

The creature looked to her like a hornet, but much larger. Its black bellied abdomen was slightly bigger than her. Including the translucent red wingspan and all three body segments, it dwarfed the puny human before it.

Stark white slates covered the top, not that it was willing to present that side. It hovered, six legs with razor sharp ends wiggling in sync with the head antennas. The bottom portion had a pointed end that swung side to side. It was tempting Jaune to try and attack.

He took the bait.

Taking a swing, the amateur aimed for the closest appendage. The Grimm drifted to the side using its rapidly moving wings. This caused him to miss and hit dirt. The bottom segment came up to shoot the stinger like a harpoon.

"Whoa!"

Deft footwork and a smidge of luck saved him from impalement. The thick needle retracted on a tendon back into the body. Despite missing, the malevolent force pressed the attack.

It was pushed back with a smack to the face.

Neo, excited to see some action, had interceded. A bonk from Melodic Cudgel staggered the Grimm. Red bands, where eyes should have been for normal animals, glared her way. Mandibles clicked and ticked indignantly.

"Thanks for the save!" He smiled from under his goofy helmet. "STRATOS is telling me this thing is a medium threat alone, but becomes very high as part of a swarm. We need to take it down before it calls for reinforcements."

She huffed. Jaune had not shut up about his stupid electronic assistant since yesterday. She did not need a computer to know how to kill.

Aiming the cane at the Grimm, she pulled the trigger. A fireball engulfed the monster in an instant. A horrifying shriek went out. Neo had not been aware that Grimm could make noises like that but the sound sent a pleasurable shudder through her body.

The hornet went down in flames. Still screeching, it started stabbing itself in the face to end the suffering. Then it went silent.

"Well, I guess that is one way to-"

The temporary quiet was disturbed by a low buzzing noise. This ominous sound was not coming from the dead wasp. It was instead coming from all around them.

"Uh oh."

From the foliage emerged another wasp. Then another. And another. Soon the spaces between the trees were filled with them.

Not missing a beat, she jumped into the fray. She danced around claws and stingers while swiping at them. Hush would have been more effective in cutting them down to size, but Melodic Cudgel had more than enough 'oomph' to take them down.

"Neo!" She heard over the furious droning. "There are too many! We need to get out of here!"

Why would they ever do that? She was having the time of her life. A literal blast. Another of the Grimm exploded under a launched Lagune bomb. The woman relished in its fiery demise.

The screech. The smell. The agony.

Part of her wondered if this was the same euphoria that Cinder Fall experienced whenever she caused combustions. That thought had Neopolitan switch to only using the bludgeoning end of Melodic Cudgel. The crunching of their bone plates was just as cathartic.

Miss Murder was more than okay with the substitute. The alter gladly took control. Greedily, she soaked up the death and carnage. Neo took the back seat and enjoyed not having to think for a while. Jaune, running off with half the colony in pursuit, barely registered.

/ / /

"You can barely see any scars."

"Right? The surgeon did excellent work."

Two Beacon alumni occupied the corner of a dirty saloon. Both had their backs facing a wall. The drinking establishment was in the middle of a settlement technically in Vale but rich in Vacuo transplants. The alcohol was thus far spicier than usual for the eastern end of Sanus.

Empty glasses lined the table beside them. Lily three. Qrow five.

Her right leg extended over his lap. The pant leg was rolled up over the patella for him to poke at. She giggled as he flicked her kneecap. The thick-in-the-middle and thin-on-top bartender did his best to clean the sticky floors while ignoring his only customers as they became handsy.

"Any pain?"

"A little, but not as bad as when I first woke up. Rehab was the worst. Relearning to walk without a cane wore me out. I wasn't allowed to use Aura, either. The muscles would not have healed properly."

"What was it that our combat instructor used to tell us? 'Ain't no shortcuts to getting healthy'?"

"Which was a double negative."

"I don't recall anyone ever pointing that out to him."

"Cuz no one was crazy enough to try."

They broke into hysterical laughter. Lily rolled her pants down before pulling the limb off his lap. Qrow signaled the bartender. He got a nod in return as a new glass was filled.

"Happy?"

"Definitely. I mean, I will never be as strong as I was in my prime but at least now I can get around unassisted. Best decision I ever made."

Nearly a decade ago, Lily had suffered a shattered knee during a mission. The resulting limp forced her to retire as a huntress. With her dream career over, and now carrying a permanent reminder of her mistake, she did her best to move on.

Needing money, she became a huntsman logistics coordinator. She did it well too. All the while, though, she pined for her old life. That was how things stayed for the longest time.

Then, one day, she was contacted by a doctor in Atlas. A medical team had created a new kind of prosthetic that did not require an amputation to install. They were looking for volunteers to perform a trial run. She accepted without hesitation.

"Best, huh?"

Her eyes crossed. "Wait. No. Second best after my daughter."

"How-" Qrow accepted the fresh swill from the bartender. "How is lil' Strawberry?"

"Good! And not so little! She's starting her second year at Pharos."

He would have spit if his mouth were full. "You didn't send her to Signal? I could have taught her all sorts of cool stuff!"

Although Qrow was primarily a roamer, he always took a few months out of the year to teach a readiness course at the huntsman junior preparatory academy on Patch. It was his way of giving back. Plus, he really enjoyed humbling the future generations.

"Her aunt lives nearby. It made sense at the time." She leaned against him.

"Could've stayed with Tai and the girls." He whined before taking a spicy gulp.

"Of course. That's what Taiyang needs. Another person to look after."

"Maybe. He's already acting like an empty nester."

Last time Qrow had visited, his brother-in-law was trying out new hobbies. Not cool ones either. Old retiree kinds of activities, like baking bread from scratch and pickling vegetables. Their kitchen was beginning to look like a mad scientist's laboratory.

"I knew the oldest was graduating, but I thought he still had the youngest for a little while longer."

"He does, but it is only a matter of time. She's a lock to join her big sis at Beacon in another two, no three, no two, years. Y'know, because of my awesome training?"

"Hmmm. Nothing to do with their own drive or talent, then?"

"Maybe a little. Mostly me though."

"I'm sure they are amazing young women."

It was either pride or the alcohol that was causing his chest to flutter. Those girls were already better than he had been at their age. His hope was that they would surpass him. With Oz to guide them, they would. On which, Qrow had to know what his boss needed.

"Guess I've done enough horsing around." He chuckled at her groan. "We should get down to business. What's so urgent in Vale that I'm needed ASAP?"

The question sobered her up as she shifted back in her chair. "Message didn't say. If I had to guess, it has to do with all those organized robberies and murders going on."

"All those what now?"

Lily explained how the city had practically transformed into a warzone over the last week. So much so that she had heard about it in the sticks. It was the talk of the huntsman community. No one was sure how everything was going to shake out.

"From the sound of things, the White Fang are heavily implicated."

"The terrorist group? Weren't they mostly content messing around with Atlas and the SDC? When did they expand down here?"

"Something shifted. They've always had a presence here, but lately they've been much more active. Holding rallies. Intercepting freights. Trying to intimidate the locals that don't subscribe to their philosophy."

"Speaking from experience?"

She slumped a bit in her chair. He offered her some of his beer. Even wiped off the part that his lips had touched. Her hand waved him away.

"Got a visit from 'Menagerie Civil Service' recruiters back in Vale. Must've heard a former huntress had made it big. They were trying to 'call me back to the motherland' to run a separate lodge down there."

Menagerie, not being considered a proper kingdom, was not included in the Huntsman Lodge system. Because Atlas provided a bulk of the funding and technology that the lodges used, they blocked efforts to include them. The last thing they wanted was any of their support falling into White Fang hands.

"You refused."

"Of course I did! Never even been to Menagerie. I was nice about declining, saying I was happy in Vale. They seemed to accept it and let me be."

Qrow sensed a 'but' coming, so went with the opposite. "And?"

"The next day my car's tires were slashed and a wolf with three scratches was tagged on the windshield. All in red spray paint, just like the White Fang logo. They wrote 'traitor' below to rub it in. Never been so humiliated before."

Deciding she wanted a drink after all, she took his glass and drank some down. Handing it back, she sighed and continued. "Bad enough I get unkind words from boorish humans like the Derwoods. Now I have to deal with this garbage from my own kind? It's ridiculous."

"That why you're down here inspecting instead of up there crackin' heads?"

"My crackin' days are over. Even with a new leg, I don't have it in me anymore to go chasing shadows. I'd hoped things would cool off while I was away."

"Welp, that's what I'm for. Maybe I can bring a little stability."

Info shared, they closed out. Lily covered the tab, saying he could get the next one. Too busy refilling his flask with the leftovers of his sixth beer, he let her have it.

Outside, the bright daylight hit him hard. The longtime friends had to support each other as their eyes adjusted. Stepping off the porch of the saloon and onto the dirt street, they fumbled to the grasslands beyond the settlement posts.

His horse was there, busy munching on tender plants. With a stutter of a hop, Qrow mounted the brilliant steed. He held down a hand for Lily to join. She refused, which he questioned.

"Don't want a lift back?"

"I think I'll walk. Seems like a good day for that."

Moseying down the road, they exchanged old stories from years past. Eventually they hit a fork in the trail. Their paths diverged. Qrow called out his final parting words as she made her way to the lodge.

"Take care. Let Ozpin know I'm Valeward bound. Going to make a pit stop first to find a home for my big boy here," Indicating the horse. "But I'll be along."

"Alrighty. Be careful out there!"

"Please. I'm Mr. Careful."

He heard a loud snort as the distance between them became too great. Lily was gone now. It was just him alone with his thoughts and a pack animal. Engaging the latter distracted from the former.

"Know the way, buddy?"

The horse trotted assuredly. The sun's position indicated they were at least heading in the right direction. Qrow was not going to argue. Plus, those beers were hitting him super hard. Slumping forward on the saddle, the huntsman closed his eyes again.

"Going to rest for a bit. Feel free to run over any hicks who try to stop us." A whinny was the last thing he heard as he returned to sleep.

/ / /

Velvet Scarlatina stood still as her rabbit ears twitched. The long, delicate appendages were hypersensitive to the forest around her. Her faunus heritage made her the best candidate to solo scout Grimm territory.

They had never let her down before. Now those features told the brunette that multiple threats were ahead of her. She heeded the warning.

With a light application of Aura, along with some natural leg strength, she hopped up a tree. Each branch she used as a step-up briefly creaked. Her lightweight and nimble feet only made light sounds on the ascent.

In the canopy, she moved along the green cover. Twisted knots made a decent bridge. She moved slowly to not draw attention to herself. The ear irritant, like a distant sharp hum, grew louder.

Soon, Velvet was overlooking a dale. Movement below had her ducking into the foliage. She peeked out to see a swarm of white. Insect-like creatures, each the size of a small car, moved frantically about.

Lancers. Warrior drones and plenty of them. The furious beats of their chitin wings made her ears wilt.

From the strap around her shoulder, she brought up a brown box with gold trims. Opening the case revealed a similarly colored hand camera. Anesidora was a handsome thing, rectangular with a small dish for the flashbulb above the lens in the middle.

Using the viewfinder at 3x magnification, she surveyed the valley. Doing so allowed her to get a firm count of the potential opposition. Fifteen strong. A challenging number for such a highly mobile enemy.

Luckily, there was not a Queen Lancer among them. Without their matriarch, these Grimm were much less coordinated. They buzzed about the trees haphazardly and, dare she say, angrily. One drone drove their stinger into bark over and over to sharpen it.

Velvet was tempted to ignore them. Her task was to locate, not eliminate. Fighting now would be a waste of energy. Beacon professors always stressed situational awareness: A good huntress knew when not to engage.

However, something had riled them up. What, she did not know. It was that thought that made her want to investigate further.

Twisting the lens mount activated infrared mode. Lancer drones did not give off a heat signature, decreasing the visual distractions. She could focus on the other sources.

Multiple dots of red and white sprinkled throughout the area. Most were small animals, such as rodents and hares, in the process of burrowing for protection. Behavior learned over millennia.

There was one dot that was larger than the others. At first, Velvet thought it was a doe that had pressed itself to the ground to avoid detection. Then she noticed that the positioning did not match. It was propped up like a person.

With the magnification set to 10x, she could make out arms and fingers. Someone was down there. Alone. With monsters all about.

Cursing, she retrieved her Scroll to contact Dr. Oobleck. He would know what to do. Hitting the call button led to no response. Thinking he might be busy, she tried her team leader, Coco. The same thing happened with her and the rest of her team.

Velvet chewed her bottom lip. The sensible solution was to retreat and try again later. However, there was no guarantee the stranded individual would survive that long.

Her brain said to prioritize her own safety. Her heart screamed not to abandon them. In the end, she listened to the organ in her chest.

Dropping to the forest floor, she slid into a shrub. Her objective was to visually confirm the victim's status. If they were able to run, she would help them escape. If they were otherwise incapacitated, she would have to come up with a new plan.

Bouncing from bush to bush, she worked her way around the Grimm. A few times, a drone would tilt their head in her direction. On those occasions, she stilled her body and soul by practicing her calming mantras.

"Fear not. There is no danger. I am enough." She repeated under her breath until they lost interest. "I was always enough."

Then she resumed.

After a tense ten minutes of maneuvering, she made it to the location. On her hands and knees, she crawled closer. She found them immediately.

Crouched in a ditch was a man. He was wearing Atlas infantry armor. Or she thought he was infantry. Usually, they wore white with red or blue patches. His was purple. There were other colors like yellow and green, although she was not as familiar with those roles.

Either way, it was an encouraging sign. This was not a lost civilian. This was a soldier.

Now the question was how to get their attention. Velvet did not want to accidentally frighten him and bring the whole hive down on them. Luckily for her, he was alert to his surroundings. Not long after she stuck her head out, his own turned her way.

She put a finger to her lips. He nodded back. The two scooched towards each other, meeting at an overturned log. His helmet blocked most of his face, but she detected a hint of relief in his shoulders.

"Hi." He had a youthful voice. "Am I right in guessing you are a huntress?"

"In training." She answered automatically, before wanting to kick herself.

It would have been easier to lie. Soldiers could and would follow orders perfectly, but only to those above them in the chain of command. Huntsman, or what they called 'Specialists,' were higher than infantry. Crucially though, being 'in-training' gave her no authority.

"Close enough. Can you get me out of here?"

"I'll do my best. Are there any others?"

Infantry troops traveled in units. If there were more, she would need to locate them as well. Though she did not like their odds, it was possible they were also hiding.

"I'm not worried about them. They are much more capable than me." He let out a low groan. "We got separated because I ran. I had hoped I could hide and wait these Lancers out. That did not work out so well."

Upon hearing that, she had a sinking suspicion that purple armor might have meant 'trainee.' It also could have been a hazing tactic for initiates. A proper soldier would have known that hiding was not possible, if her hunch was true.

"Do you have your Aura unlocked?"

"I do." She grimaced. "Is that a problem?"

"Your plan wouldn't have worked. The Grimm can sense you."

"What!? They-" Velvet clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Calm. Like me."

In demonstration, she took a deep breath. He did the same. They held it for a few seconds before letting out together. His expelled, warm air tickled between her digits.

She continued. "Negativity attracts Grimm. Having Aura bares your very soul to the world. Every emotion you feel broadcasts out. Bad ones chum the water, so to speak. These Lancers may not know where we are specifically, but they will turn the forest upside down until they do."

Grimm were notoriously stubborn. Once a foe was in their sights, they pursued with dogged determination. Because they did not need food or water, the monsters could tire their prey out in an endless chase.

Lips released, he asked. "What do we do?"

That was a good question. She had wanted to sneak back the way she had come. Glancing that direction showed that the Lancers had closed that hole in their collective vision. Two hovered over the bush she had emerged from.

Her scan of the cardinal directions turned up no alternatives. The Grimm had spread out equally and were carefully checking every tree nook and grass blade. Once searched, they took over another space. Closer and closer they came to each other like a dragnet.

The situation had altered. These drones were acting much smarter. Still, there was no Queen.

Then Velvet understood. What had changed was her involvement. Two aura-capable individuals were in proximity. The Grimm now had a stronger focal point to hunt around. It was only a matter of time until they were discovered.

"We'll have to fight our way out." She realized.

His mouth opened in panic before closing and settling into a somber nod. "If that's how it is. What's the plan, ma'am?"

Glad he shifted into the right mindset, Velvet pondered. It was the two of them against fifteen. They needed to eliminate the Grimm quickly or else be overwhelmed. If it were her and another of her teammates, that would be no contest. However, she was leery of the soldier's fighting capabilities.

"Depends. Have you killed Grimm before?"

"A Beowolf or two." Better than she had expected. "Though, I'm not sure how much help I'll be against these kinds. I have no way of hitting their weak points with my sword."

"No gun?"

"No."

Infantry usually carried at least a rifle along with a blade. Perhaps he had lost it during the retreat. Regardless, everything was significantly more difficult. He was correct that he would have difficulties taking on the drones with only a bladed weapon.

Velvet did not know what to do. Her preplanned idea had failed and she was not good at improvising. The buzzing of incoming Lancers pressured her like never before. An encroaching doom that left her cold.

She was afraid. She was in danger. She was not nearly enough.

A hand grasped her own. The soldier was looking at her, concern creasing his cheeks. She had not realized until then, but she had been shaking out of control.

"Hey, we'll get through this. Don't worry." Now he was comforting her? She could not even get that part of being a huntress right. "I might be useless, but you're not. You've got something that can take them down, right?"

She swallowed. "I have a way, but I would need time and space to do so."

Neither of those things were the Lancers inclined to give. As soon as she showed herself, they would swarm. She would be taken down before she could properly set up.

"How much?"

"Twenty seconds and about half the length of a footie pitch."

The lower portion of his face moved. Twitched, as if fighting himself. It locked into a neutral line.

"I think I know how far that is?" He questioned before shaking his head. "Okay. Here's what we'll do. I'll be on distraction duty. Y'know, doing stuff to draw them away so you can prepare. Once you are ready, let loose and don't hold anything back."

"Are you sure?"

"Not in the least. Do you have a better idea?" She did not. By the Brother's, she did not. And each passing moment brought the Lancers near. Her momentary freak out hastened it. "On my mark then."

He took up a clumsy runner's starting position. She prepared Anesidora by setting the photo viewer to an image of a gatling gun and returning the camera to its case. Every moment would have to count. This stranger's life was fully in her hands.

"Wait!" Her call caused him to waiver. "I didn't ask your name."

"Jaune. Yours?"

She returned the courtesy. "Velvet. Anything else?"

Expecting some encouragement, or instructions on what to do with his body should he fall, Velvet focused on memorizing his last words. They were not what she had been expecting. He grinned strangely.

"Don't miss any of those uggo buggos."

On that note, Jaune took off in a sprint. He purposefully snapped every branch and twig he could as he ran. His arms waved madly in the air while yelling his head off.

The Lancers did not miss this. In fact, they seemed rather confused that their target would announce himself after having hid for so long. The Grimm soon got over this initial reaction and took to the skies to intercept. Jaune stopped his ruckus, turned, and pulled free his sword as they closed in.

Velvet did not dare to watch what happened next.

Instead, with the coast clear, she emerged from the trench. Her Semblance activated. Memories of a girl in sunglasses and a beret filled her mind's eye. Her legs widened into a powerful stance in preparation to wield a heavy firearm.

All the while, azure light emerged from the box looped to her shoulder. A physical construct formed in her hands. The form was that of a rotary machine gun, ammo included.

Her hard gaze landed on the Lancers, some of whom had taken notice of her. It was far too late for them to act now. She held the trigger down. The barrel began to spin.

"Eat this!" She screamed with words not her own.

The bullets sprayed into the air too fast for her to perceive them. What she could see was the bluish impact of each one. The Grimm screeched as they were riddled with shots.

Most of the hits went into their thick carapaces. However, at sixty rounds a second, many also landed in vulnerable areas. Wings were shredded. Segments were lopped off. Entire heads were obliterated.

After what felt like ages of continuous fire, Velvet relented. Other than her heavy breathing, the scene before her was calm. There was no more buzzing or movement of any kind. The replica of her leader's gun, Gianduja, faded into nothing.

She moved in, calling out. "Jaune! Jaune!"

Picking her way through the dissolving carcasses, she feared the worst. Movement near a mountain of white and black near a natural hedge caught her eye. She got there in time to see two drone corpses pushed to the side.

A shield marked with two crescent moons faced her. There was some coughing as it was pulled away. The soldier was there, alive and excited.

"That was insane!"

"Yeah." She smiled, relieved that everything had worked out.

"So glad I had my shield ready to block. To be honest, I was not sure that it would hold."

"Yeah…" She said again, with a little less enthusiasm.

It would not have held if Coco had been the one firing. For the first time she could remember, Velvet was happy that her copying ability did not extend to other Semblances. All she had access to was muscle memory. That proved to be exactly enough on this day.

"You pulled a minigun out of thin air! Gosh, I need a weapon like that, like, yesterday."

"Heh, sorry mate! Mine is one of a kind." Her fingers caressed the wooden box. "Though if you are interested in Hard-Light tech, I'm sure Atlas R&D could sort you out. Your CO should be able to put you in contact."

Her father was always looking for test subjects. Nothing made Will Scarlatina happier on the job than stress testing new designs. He had been all over her initial weapon prototype.

"My CO…?" He mumbled.

"Now we just need to-"

Her ears twitched once more. Something was moving fast towards her. The faunus froze. Jaune was not as indecisive.

"Look out!" Velvet was pushed into a shrubbery.

Her body tossed and turned to free itself from the ensnaring vines. It took embarrassingly long to free herself. Once upright again, she did not see what had swooped down at them. Then her attention turned to the sky.

Up there now was a solitary Lancer. She had missed one. The drone must have tried to avenge the others with a sneak attack. Having failed, it was now escaping.

Odd behavior for a Grimm, but she was not going to question it. She was emotionally exhausted. Turning to thank the soldier for his quick thinking, she found nothing but greenery. For some reason, he was not around.

Velvet then heard a distant scream.

Almost in slow motion, she looked again to the sky. Under the Lancers' pinched waist, held there by four insect arms, was Jaune. His arm was free, swinging away at the monster holding him hostage with his sword.

Cycling through photos on Anesidora, she sought a ranged weapon. Then understanding dawned on her. There was nothing she could do that would not also endanger Jaune.

Besides stray rounds, a fall from that height would surely kill. A novice like him would not have a landing strategy. All she could do was watch helplessly as he was carried away.


Author Notes: Feels both good and strange to write for Qrow again after nearly a year of not doing so. It's like meeting up with a gin-soaked school friend years after graduating. You never know where they will take you. xD