"Chickie Four."

The next player drew from the chicken yard. "Pass."

Maria placed her last domino down. "I'm out."

Everyone else at the table groaned. The old woman laughed to herself at their exasperation. This was the third round in a row that she had won.

A gaggle of women had gathered on the ship deck to play a domino game called Chickenfoot. The objective was to get rid of their hand while keeping their point total, as determined by the number of pips on each domino, as low as possible. This was done by matching domino ends on a radiating chain.

Despite having never played the game before, Maria found she was rather skilled. Her disability had proven to be no obstacle. She could feel the pips under her fingertips. The group was also willing to call out their moves, allowing her to create an image of the game board in her head and act unassisted.

"Okay, girls. Tell me your point value." Vivian, the widowed scorekeeper, asked everyone. "Mine is twelve."

"Four!" Happily replied Tula, a vacationing mother of a rambunctious army of children.

Next, a retiree named Lumi muttered. "Twenty-two."

After this reporting, there was an expectant mood in the group. The final player was very quiet. A bad sign for her point total.

"Robyn? Your score?" Vivian probed.

"Seventy-five."

The huntress thumped her forehead on the table. As good as Maria was at playing Chickenfoot, Robyn was just as bad. There were clacks as she toppled over her holdings. Tula, seeing the discarded hand, offered some advice.

"You shouldn't have held onto the blank domino. That is worth fifty points alone."

"I would have played it if a certain witch would have stopped taking all the blank ends!"

That dig had been directed at Maria, who laughed again. "It's just good tactics, my dear. No need to get all huffy."

While she did not know who was holding the fifty-pointer, Maria knew it was not in her hand. Whenever the opportunity arose, she chained her dominoes to cover up any blank spots. That prevented whoever was holding the domino from being able to get rid of it.

This time, it was Robyn. She was quite disgruntled that her sum score was now in the triple digits. And they were only in the fifth round out of thirteen.

"I'll show you huffy. Just wait and-"

"Evening, ladies." Called a new voice.

Approaching the table was a tall individual. Most of the table audibly swooned while returning the greeting. The outlier was Robyn, who let out a sigh before frostily replying to the newcomer.

"Dee."

Traveling was dangerous, even when floating along in the sky. At their pit stop in Argus, the luxury ship had brought aboard a group of huntsmen to serve as protectors. Among them was the one called Dee.

He was a handsome man. Or so Maria assumed.

Her ocular implants only provided a rough outline of people's features. He was muscular with a square jaw, but that was all she could discern. It was context clues that queued her to his good looks.

Robyn was not as enthralled as the others. Naturally, this piqued Dee's interest. He took every opportunity to press his luck.

"Hello Robyn! Fancy seeing you here."

"I'm always here, Dee. I'm a passenger."

"Playing some kind of game?" He breezed along. "That's cool. Do you like games?"

Robyn did not engage him on the subject. An awkward silence followed. Maria imagined the stare down that was occurring. A clash of wills between the two professionals. It was the widower who broke them up.

"We sure do! Why don't you join us? A new round is about to begin."

Robyn turned to face Vivian, giving her what must have been a sharp glare. But the jinn was out of the lamp. Everyone was nodding along eagerly. Maria, however, decided to take pity on the younger woman.

"Excuse me, young man." She gained Dee's attention. "Do you work for the cruise company?"

His head tilted. "I do. Why?"

"At breakfast, I noticed that the guardrails near the dining area were wobbly. I don't mean to complain, but I depend on them to get around. Do you know who I can ask to get that repaired?"

"You can put in a maintenance request with-"

Understanding Maria's angle, Robyn added quickly. "Sounds like a safety issue. You should get on that."

"I-" He shook his head before asking the older woman. "Do you remember which rail? There are a lot of them around the dining area."

"Oh… Let me think. Was it the one near the entrance? Or maybe along the walkway? I'm a tad forgetful."

"Ugh, alright. I'll check all of them."

"Thank you so much!"

"No problem." Dee said in a way that sounded the opposite. "It's my job, ma'am."

As he walked away, Maria's Accessibility Dialogue Assistant spoke through her implant. "Weapon detected! The person ahead uses a spiked club capable of channeling an electrical current through the-"

"Hush." Maria whispered to the feminine electronic voice.

Ada was supposed to be turned off. Her prosthesis doctor had turned the assistant back on during her last check-up. Now she was dealing with the constant annoyance at the most inopportune times.

Such as now.

The other Chickenfoot players turned to Maria with what must have been death glares. They had been interacting with her for a few weeks now. Her doddering act did not work on them.

It was Vivian who spoke up. "That was a mean thing to do."

"I wasn't lying. The rails are loose." Maria defended herself.

Though maybe fixing them was not a pressing concern. Still, the excuse got him out of their hair, whether the table collectively wanted that or not. Robyn was particularly gracious.

"Thanks for the save. Dee has been quite persistent."

Tula played with a lock of her hair between her fingers. "Weren't you just complaining about a lack of eligible bachelors?"

The group had spent a few evenings around the bar. After a few drinks, they learned all sorts of interesting tidbits about each other. All except for Maria. She had never been much of a drinker.

"Dee had caught my eye for a little while." Robyn admitted. "Then I spoke with him for more than five minutes. He is dumber than a sack of wet rocks and half as interesting."

She was being a little harsh. But it was the truth. The man was lacking in both wisdom, intelligence, and charisma.

"Does that matter? You're not looking to settle down, right?" Lumi pointed out.

"I need to draw a line somewhere. Even for booty calls." Getting a laugh out of the table, Robyn again addressed Maria. "That was a good call to get him to go away."

"Yes, very insightful." Vivian begrudgingly admitted. "I could not get him to run around like that with only a few words."

"It was nothing too complex." Maria touched the handle of her cane. "Like Dee said, it is what he was paid for. Huntsmen on a security detail do more than just fight Grimm. They are also responsible for the overall safety of the passengers."

"You sure do seem to know a lot about being a huntsman…" Robyn trailed off meaningfully.

Maria grimaced. "I have asked you nicely to quit digging."

"Fine. Fine. I'll stop."

The older woman doubted the younger would do so. Robyn was the inquisitive type. Headstrong, too. She reminded Maria of herself, to be honest.

And that was a sad thought.

"What's wrong?" Robyn asked as she shuffled the dominoes.

"Nothing. Let's start again."

While the sky cruise had been fun, Maria was ready to be on her own again. She could not wait to be in Vale. Once her own job was complete, she could return to the hermit lifestyle. Out in the wilderness, no one ever asked questions. They just let her be.


XIX. Raw


As a troublesome circuit finally lit up, Mr. Ferrous straightened out his back. Coughing at the smell of heated metal, he toggled on the ventilation hood. Exertion had turned his face red, but his chest swelled with joy. He cleaned his foggy glasses to look upon his accomplishments.

Wires and melted silicon lay about the workbench. It would all appear unorganized to the untrained mind, but the pieces were in place. Getting here, of course, had taken a path as winding as the tangles.

Working with Atlas technology was always challenging. But Ferrous felt as though he were on the right track. The electronic hobbyist had already made great progress in miniaturizing the mobile Scroll hacking machine.

Oddly enough, the hardest part had been stripping the police van. Atlas was a fan of closed systems. Entire hardware components were glued into place, making removal tricky.

After consulting his contacts in that kingdom, he learned how to safely melt the resin and free the equipment. From there, it was a matter of breaking out the old soldering kit and getting to work. Now he was almost done with the rewiring.

What was left was the more interesting assignment. At least, for him. He had to figure out a new configuration that allowed the components to be transported and set up quickly.

His original idea of using a roller bag was not going to work. The dimensions were too small. Plus, depending on the location, luggage would be very conspicuous.

There were a few ideas turning over in his head. The problem with these solutions was that the range of the equipment would be lower than the original setup. Torchwick and company would need to conceal the rig to get close enough to the target.

It would need to fit in urban and suburban environments and be easy to pack and cart away. Few conventional designs would fit that requirement. Ferrous would need to think outside the box.

Or maybe inside a box? A box with wheels? Was he back to the luggage roller idea?

Before he could fully dive into the conceptual stage, there was an alert on a nearby screen. Someone was entering the shop. The live video showed what appeared to be a figure opening the front door, but the picture was unclear. Bands of yellow and blue ran across the monitor to obscure their features.

Ferrous tapped the digital display and frowned. It was a malfunction. Or he had neglected to clean the camera lens.

There was no doubt that someone was inside the store. They were making plenty of noise as they moved through the shelving labyrinth to reach the front area. He had plenty of time to get situated behind the booth for their arrival.

Subsequently, he had even more time to freak out.

"Hurk." Ferrous blurted as his guest stepped up to the counter.

"How've you been, Joc? Hope all is well." Qrow Branwen casually asked while cleaning an ear with his pinky before examining it. "Because I've had a heck of a few weeks."

The shop owner choked. "Gak."

"So glad you asked." The huntsman wiped his finger on the counter, leaving a brown smudge. "You see, I've been doing a tour. Contacting all my old contacts. Things are getting a bit dangerous out there."

Finally able to compose full sentences, Ferrous croaked "Y-yeah. I heard about that."

"Yet none of them know anything about those causing the problems."

"It's a-" He gulped. "A big city."

Qrow scowled. "Not that big. Especially the Underground. My experience is that y'all tend to know each other's business."

"What is it you want, Qrow?" Ferrous tried to shift the conversation. "I'm not an information broker. I build weapons."

"You do build weapons. Lots of them. Do you happen to be working on anything hot? Maybe for a particular crop of extremists from Menagerie?"

Qrow's eyes scanned the room. Ferrous flinched when they roved over the back area, where his latest project was under development. Those dangerous crimson orbs of the huntsman narrowed at the effect his actions caused.

"Of course not!"

"Are you sure about that? If you are holding out on me, that would be the end of our deal."

Years before, Ferrous had been an asset for a pro-monarchist force trying to take over Atlas. He had built several weapons for their agents. One of those custom orders had been for an assassin that had been targeting Qrow and failed.

In the aftermath, the weapon had been tracked back to Ferrous Works. How this had happened, the owner was not sure. But the huntsman had him dead to rights.

Instead of being arrested, they had come to an understanding. Ferrous had become an informer. Whenever a particularly dangerous actor showed up at his door asking for hardware, he had to give the officials at Beacon Academy a heads-up.

And Ferrous had stuck to the terms of the agreement. Mostly.

Certain in-town factions, such as those belonging to Junior and Roman Torchwick, got a free pass. They were Ferrous' best customers, after all. He could not continue to provide tips if he went out of business.

Despite his duplicity, he was confident of one fact. "I don't sell to terrorists!"

The Branwen gave the weapons maker a judging look. Those bright red eyes of his could unravel a person without even trying. Ferrous gulped, hoping he was found to be truthful.

"Fair enough." Qrow relaxed his stance. "I believe you."

Ferrous breathed out in relief. "Thanks. I-"

"Oh, I know you are holding something back." The store owner froze. "But I'm inclined to trust you don't know anything about this particular mess. So I'll let it slide. Besides, I already have something of a lead from another of my contacts."

"Then why are you here messing with me!?"

He shrugged. "It's a good policy to remind people of their obligations."

"Like I'd forget."

Done with his intimidation tactics, Qrow turned his back. Ferrous watched on as the most dangerous huntsman in Vale sharked his way back to the entrance. As he passed the first shelf, though, he called back over his shoulder.

"By the way, I'd be careful with… whatever it is you are up to. Don't make me come back here. Neither of us would like that."

It was not until Ferrous heard the entrance open and close that he felt his muscles unclench. His legs shook as he returned to his workstation. Slowly getting back to work, Qrow's words remained heavy like a weighted vest.

/ / /

"All wisemen and fools, gather around."

Called to session, the members of the Torchwick Outfit sat around a rectangular foldout table. Their presenter, Leroy, stood in front of the planning board. Tommy Gunn was the only person to question the designations.

"Which one of us is which?"

"If you have to ask…"

The Vacuan grumbled. There was something to be said about being self-aware. It was all bad. He would be the first to admit that he was at the bottom of the hierarchy.

To his left was the golden boy, Jay. To his right, with her feet on the table, was the muscle of the crew, Neopolitan. Planning and wheelman duties were Leroy's bag. That left the role of errand boy to Tommy.

A position he was less than enthusiastic about.

Neo tapped her heel hard on the tabletop. That was the signal to get on with the meeting before she lost interest. A threat as much as a signal of preference. Leroy cleared his throat.

"Right, so, Tommy and I checked out the address Junior gave us." He threw his thumb over his shoulder at the board.

Multiple photographs were posted. Each image depicted a different angle of the structure along with the surrounding buildings and side streets. Drawn in marker was a series of lines, arrows, and notes explaining the layout of the surrounding area.

"What did you learn?" Jay asked.

"That the White Fang knows how to pick 'em. The warehouse is in a quiet part of the city. VPD rarely sends anyone out there, and even if they did, there are multiple ways in and out of the building. I'm not confident we found everything."

In other words, this was the perfect spot to hold an illicit recruitment rally. With this assembly imminent, they had to go with what was known. And hope for the best.

"We're sure the tip is legitimate?"

"I wouldn't go that far. But if the Xiong were out to mess with us, it's a convincing lie."

"After what happened with Kingsnake, Roman does not want us to take any chances."

That was a bit of a rich statement from Jay. If their 'boss' was that concerned, he should have bothered to show up and tell them in person. Leroy, professional that he was, pushed ahead.

"We're not. I've got some advantageous spots picked out for us during the rally. Which ones we take up depends on our goal."

"Goal?"

"Yeah, like, what are we trying to accomplish? The warehouse has the capacity to hold more than four hundred people. Even if only a quarter of that show up, us four couldn't handle them all."

Another thump from Neo signaled her disagreement. After watching her spars with Jay and Leroy, separately and at the same time, Tommy did not doubt her ability. But quantity wise they could not hope to corral that many people.

"We're only going to watch." Jay asserted, causing the girl to pout. "Even with all the information we got from Junior, we still don't know much about how the White Fang actually operates."

That was true. What had been given to them amounted to a book report. Deep in history but lacking in current affairs.

Some of the story Tommy already knew. The White Fang had started as a peace movement coming out of the Faunus Rebellions. After years of failing to accomplish their goals, a power struggle had ousted the old leaders and installed a more radical element.

Other details, Tommy had not known. Apparently, the philosophy of this new leadership had originated in Vale. An old rebel had pioneered the iconography and aggressive strategies that the Fang now used.

With these methods, she grew a separate faunus-run settlement on Vale's doorstep. One of the few to thrive outside of Menagerie. Many of the Fang revered her as a second founder.

Unfortunately, she earned herself many enemies with her tactics. Her settlement was crushed, but the idea survived. The refugees spread her message, helped wrestle control of the White Fang away from the peaceniks, and had returned to Vale to seek revenge.

Or that was how it looked to Tommy. Leroy had told him he was full of it. But the sunglasses wearing faunus was hardly unbiased.

"Really? Only watching?" Tommy wondered aloud. "Even if one of their higher-ups shows their face? You don't want to take them to some quiet place for a little chat?"

"I mean, if the opportunity presents itself…" Jay shrugged.

"We can be flexible." Leroy guided them back to the matter at hand. "Here are my thoughts. Given Neo's skill set, she's best off as our eyes and ears on the ground. She can mingle with the crowd and nab any target we identify."

Neo clapped her hands, excited at the prospect. Tommy was also in favor. Giving her the hands-on role would keep her busy and make her less likely to go ballistic on them out of boredom.

Leroy pointed to images of a set of stairwells. "We'll need someone to give Neo a bird's eye view of the place. There is an overhang inside that can provide this. To get there, whoever goes will have to jump from an adjacent roof and sneak in through an access door."

"Want me to do that?" Jay asked.

"You or Roman. Depends on how hands-on he wants to be."

"He'll probably…" The younger man shook his head. "Scratch that. He'll definitely want that job. It'll offer him a chance to make a grand entrance if things go south."

"If you say so. Then I'd like you to man our comms and be ready to pitch in if there is a problem."

"Right."

"Since Tom and I are not stealthy, we'll be on the lookout." Leroy pointed to a side street near the front entrance. "From here, we'll see everyone who goes in and out. We'll also have a getaway vehicle ready to roll if you see anyone you want to spirit away."

Tommy was less in favor of this arrangement. He hated playing the lookout. But he was also not too keen on the other possible assignments.

At least he was not stuck on Scroll duty.

They spoke for a little while longer. There were a few more technical details to sort out, mostly on how to stay hidden before the rally started. It was around noon when they wrapped up. Jay was quick to get to work.

"When do we need to be in position?"

"A few hours before the rally starts. We don't want anyone to see us setting up."

"Alright, I'll reach out to Roman and swing back around." He tilted his head to Neo. "You want to come with? We can grab a late lunch along the way."

She tapped the side of her nose with her pointer finger before they both got up. Tommy watched them leave with a raised eyebrow. He spoke to Leroy, who was busy pulling down the pictures and neatly arranging them into two piles.

"You can't tell me that wasn't suspicious!"

"Brother's sake, Tom…" Leroy sighed.

The male faunus was not even religious. Still, Tommy pressed on. This was very important.

"It's been a month, and we still haven't seen so much as a hair on Torchwick's head."

"You'll get your chance to see him soon enough."

Tommy grumbled to himself as he stood. There was no arguing with Leroy sometimes. When he got this single-minded, he tended to miss the bigger picture.

Something was going on with Torchwick. Jay and Neo, too. They were an enigmatic trio that needed to be solved. Being employed by an unseen ghost and his two enforcers was untenable in the long run.

When Tommy was a member of the Xiong and the Flows, he always knew where he stood. Now he was completely unsure. At any moment, they could decide to cut him loose. To feel secure, he needed a better grasp of his standing in the outfit and how to improve it.

That meant unraveling their little secrets and also becoming invaluable. He started that by prepping the getaway vehicle and ensuring Señor Zap was ready. Seeing that his weapon of choice was charged, the Collector grinned.

/ / /

'Alyx was becoming oh so very tired of the Glass Handers. They were the most peculiar of people, transparent in both body and action. There was no motive to their play. Yet plenty play to their motives.'

"A full weekend of possibilities! What should we do first? Play video games? Go to the weapon forge?"

Blake, lying on her bed, ignored the intrusive voice by pulling the book she was reading closer to her face. 'They followed her at noon, night, and day. Always quick to offer a word of praise. Even when unwarranted.'

"Should we paint our nails!? I always wanted to do that with another girl."

Losing patience, Blake skipped ahead in the story. 'But alas for poor Alyx! They fell one by one, breaking upon the rocks. Their crystal bodies turned to stardust that filled the sky with brilliance. She was left all alone under a starry night.'

"Hey, are you listening?"

'Or so Alyx thought.'

"Blaaaaake!" Ruby pulled the book down. "Pay attention to me!"

Her pouty face insisted that the demand be met. Such an expression must have been honed over years of being the youngest of her family. It was a defensive mechanism to end arguments in her favor.

Being an only child, however, Blake was unaffected.

"No."

She tried returning to the novel. Despite the absurdities contained within, its text depicted a better world. One that the main character did not fully appreciate.

If only Blake could escape to that magical place.

"C'mon! You're my partner!" Ruby pleaded.

"That was just for Initiation. It has no bearing on our current relationship. We are only teammates now."

"Nuh-uh! It means we are friends forever!" She said as she plopped down next to Blake.

"Says who?"

"Well, Nora said-"

And her first mistake was listening to Nora. "I am under no obligation to entertain you. Why don't you go hang out with your sister? Or Ren?"

"Ugh. Not today." Ruby sank low. "They were going to hang out with Yang's friends from Signal. She wanted to introduce them and maybe play matchmaker."

"Did he ask her to do that?" The other girl shook her head. "Then why…?"

"Yang thought it would be funny."

In a way, that scenario did sort of seem comical. Mostly because Blake was unsure of how Ren would react to the situation. She could not get a good read on the guy. Seeing him get flustered was bound to be hilarious.

Unfortunately, that did not help get the rambunctious kid out of Blake's hair. She thought about alternatives. Her mind settled on their sister squad.

"How about Team JWNN?"

"Pyrrha and Nora are training, Weiss is studying, and Jaune went out to the city again."

"Again…?" Blake mumbled.

Speaking of people she could not decipher, there was Jaune Arc. His constant absences were suspicious. But, as the closeted faunus reminded herself, it was none of her business. People were allowed to keep their secrets.

She had plenty of her own.

"Hey! Stop spacing out!" Ruby glowered. "And stop trying to foist me off on other people! I-"

Sparing Blake from a further tongue lashing was a knock at the door. Excited at the prospect of someone else to bother, Ruby hopped off the bed to go answer it. Glad for the distraction, Blake looked for her lost place in the fairy tale.

'"Welly welly well. What have we here?" Asked a mysterious voice.'

"For me?" Ruby questioned the person at the door. "Great! Thanks!"

Feeling curious, Blake peaked over the top of the book. In Ruby's arms was a box wrapped in brown paper. The knocker had been with the postal service.

The girl brought the package over to the shared desks. Ruby must have made an online purchase. Knowing her, it was probably weapon related. As she was opening the parcel, Blake began to read again.

'Alyx crouched down among the rocks as best she could, for she could not locate the owner of the voice. It drowned her with dread. Since arriving in these strange lands, she had grown as distrustful of her surroundings as they had of her.'

"Oh." Ruby said quietly.

'"Hello? Where are you?" Alyx asked.'

'"Me? I'm nowhere."'

'She lifted a rock to search beneath. "But everybody is somewhere!"'

'"There you have it, then. I have no body to be anywhere."'

A soft sniffling brought Blake back to the real world. Ruby was hunched over, head in her hands. Drops of a clear liquid were falling between her fingers.

It took only a second for Blake to put down the book and reach her partner. When she did, the shorter girl latched onto the taller. Her tears began to make the faunus' shirt soggy, not that she cared about the fabric at that moment.

"Ruby? What's wrong?" Her gaze went to the opened box.

Packed carefully inside with padded cardboard was a white object. Someone had sent Ruby an urn. And not a small one for a pet, either.

"I-I-" She struggled to get out.

Blake's mind went to a dark place. "Is someone threatening you?"

"Huh?" Ruby looked up with bloodshot eyes. "No, I… I was expecting this."

With her hackles now lowered, Blake maneuvered Ruby to a chair. It took a few moments for her to calm down. When she finally did, her first action was to apologize.

"I'm sorry." She hiccupped. "I asked to have that sent to me. They never said they were going to ship it, though. I thought they would call me to pick the remains up. Seeing that brought everything back."

"They?"

"The Vale Mortuary."

That raised even more questions. "Was it someone you knew?"

"Yes. They didn't have a family, so I'm taking care of the funeral arrangements."

"What-" Blake licked her lips. "What happened to them?"

Ruby looked down at her shoes. "He was a victim of a Dust robbery."

A pit opened up in Blake's stomach. "By whom?"

"The White Fang." Ruby wiped away her tears. "Thanks Blake. I promise I'm better. You can let go now."

Glancing down, Blake saw that she still had a grip on Ruby's arm. She must have thought it was for comfort. But the former White Fang member knew that her hard knuckled grip was the result of shock.

Recovering well enough, Ruby picked herself up and revisited the box. Gingerly lifting up the urn, she said she was going to talk to a school administrator. She was not sure of the rules for keeping human remains in a dorm room.

Neither was Blake. To be fair, looking up housing regulations was the last thing on her mind. With one foot out the door, Ruby asked a favor.

"Could you not tell Yang about this? I don't want her to worry."

"Sure."

With a nod of gratitude, Ruby left the room. This left Blake alone with her thoughts. All of them were ugly.

She returned to her own bed. Lifting up the mattress, she retrieved a piece of paper that had once been folded into the shape of a howling wolf. On her last trip to Vale, she had snatched the invitation out of a garbage bin and stuffed it into her pocket.

The impulsive action had weighed on her. So had the date and time that were written on the paper. Blake wanted to ignore the call to investigate so badly.

The White Fang was not her responsibility anymore. But they were her burden.

She had read the news stories. Seen the videos. Her former allies—her family for most of her teenage years—were stealing Dust. Hurting people. And she did not know why.

They were revolutionaries, not petty thieves. She had to know what was going on with them. Understand what was happening. Or else she would not be able to look upon her teammate with anything other than guilt.

Reading the clock, she learned she had a few hours before the rally started. Grabbing Gambol Shroud, she readied herself for travel. Before making her way to the city transport station, she picked up her copy of The Girl Who Fell Through the World.

One last line called to her.

"'Come now, girl. There is much to do." Declared the Nowhere Man.'