"Well, this should be a circus."

Coco was the only person close enough to hear the sotto voce comment from Whitley, and turned her head toward him, pulling her sunglasses down for just a moment so he could see her raised eyebrow. Whitley shrugged. "No matter what your father says, my father will use it as an excuse to declare war on the Corsairs. And the truth of what happened will be buried under as many lies as he can muster. If your father cooperates, he may be allowed to resign. If not..." Whitley sighed and pulled Coco in close for an embrace. "I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear, "I'll do my best to get your father to safety before an 'accident is arranged for him. I think it would be best to do the same for you and Velvet."

"But where's safe?" Velvet whispered back, trying to keep the fear she felt out of her voice. "The empire's about to tear itself apart, and I don't want to leave you by yourself."

"Not here. We'll discuss it tonight, at home." Whitley pulled away, straightening his tunic.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Imperial Assembly, I must first report that Fleet Admiral Adel has tendered his resignation, and accepted full responsibility for this disaster. On top of that-"

Whitley couldn't have asked for a better opening. "This 'disaster' was of your making!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Silence fell across the assembly chamber, devoid of even the normal murmur that went on during any speech. Long-standing tradition dictated that a sitting emperor was never interrupted when speaking. Emperor Jacques frowned at Whitley. "Prince Whitley, please wait your turn to speak."

"No." Whitley's flat refusal carried clearly across the silence."I had a solution in hand that would have resolved this without further violence. You are the one who demanded that the Marines be sent in. I was present when you ordered Admiral Adel to put Colonel Dorrick in charge of the overall mission, against Admiral Adel's advice. And it was Colonel Dorrick who ordered Commander Garnett to fire on Tolten Station; I have the bridge logs from the Bercyon IV to prove it. Yes, the warhead was unarmed, but Captain Twinkling Amber had no way to know that. Indeed, in my opinion, the action he took was completely justified. He saw a warhead headed toward an, at best, lightly-defended civilian station that he was contracted to defend, we've even got the contract in hand to prove it. In response, he fired a single salvo. One salvo, ladies and gentlemen," and now Whitley turned away from his father to let his gaze wander over the Assembly chamber. "In the time it took that single salvo to reach Bercyon IV, Who Mourns for Adonais could have fired four such salvos, assuming her launchers haven't been upgraded. Four. I have it on good authority that a second salvo would have crippled Bercyon IV, a third would have destroyed her, and there would have been few, if any, survivors."

"That they fired at all is inexcusable!" shouted a voice from the gallery. Whitley made note of who the speaker was before responding. "You're right; Commander Garnett should have refused to fire the warning shot at all.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the purpose of our Imperial Navy and Marine Corps are simple; it is to protect the people of the Empire, commoners and nobility alike. At Tolten Station, we failed to guide them in that mission. We had a simple matter, that should have been handled in a court of law, before a magistrate, and wasn't. It was handled with violence, and when that backfired, we answered with more violence.

"No more. If we continue on this path, there will only be more violence. The Corsairs acted within the bounds of the law and their own honor, and we have to respect that."

"You want us to let them get away with firing on an Imperial Navy transport?" another voice shouted, and Whitley once again noted the speaker.

"Not quite. They have offered restitution, as allowed law. Also, we have to remember that the Corsairs are an association of captain-owners, bound together by mutual agreement and tradition. Technically, even their 'fleet admiral' is just one more captain, albeit of something somewhat larger than a common cruiser." This drew a murmur of laughter. "If we feel the need for further vengeance, we should start with Captain Twinkling Amber, and not visit it upon the Corsairs as a whole."

"That is not acceptable."

The emperor stood, glaring openly at Whitley. "No matter how romantic an image the people of the empire have of the Corsairs, the truth is they're little better than any other band of pirates. The kidnapping of my own daughter proves that. For far too long, we've let these vipers flourish, and now we've seen their true colors.

"I am hereby ordering the Imperial Navy to see to the destruction of the Corsairs. Within a month, I want no ships flying the Corsair flag within the Empire."

"Father, you can't-"

"I can and I have. Prince Whitley, you forget your place. Given how disruptive you have been today, I will ask you to leave. We will discuss your return in private."

Whitley scowled as he turned and stomped away, a fresh murmur coming from the crowd behind him. While the emperor, and only the emperor, could legally remove the heir from the Assembly chamber, it was a right that had very seldom been invoked.

And every time, the consequences for the Empire had been dire.

Coco sighed as she saw Whitley collapsed on one of the couches in their suite, a forgotten drink held loosely in his hand. "I tried, Coco, I really did. But he is determined to have his war, isn't he?"

She sat next to him, taking his drink away and setting it on the table. "I know, Whitley. I've been going back over the Assembly proceedings, and you've been trying to put the brakes on your father for a while, haven't you?"

"With mixed success. But I think I've made some allies against the more moderate members of the nobility. Enough to challenge him successfully? That I don't know. I may have to reveal some of the secrets I've been collecting."

"And my father?"

"Already off to what I hope is safety, at least for now. Disappearing someone who was being watched as closely as him was rather difficult. Thankfully your father has always been a rather spiritual man, despite his vocation. The priests were quite willing to look the other way for a significant donation."

"Then I think you've earned this," Coco said with a smile and leaned forward to give Whitley a peck on the cheek. Whitley returned her smile and shook his head. "It's the least I can do; these past few months, he's put himself in great danger to help me reach out to more people that might be willing to back me, especially among the Navy. And after what my father did today, well..."

The soft sound of a door closing startled them, and they both jumped up to see Velvet standing there, regarding them both with a bemused expression. "Sorry, I just got back, and I didn't want to interrupt."

"It's quite alright. Did you get the message off?" Whitley asked, shaking himself to regain his composure as he picked up his drink again.

Velvet nodded as she poured her own drink and one for Coco, sitting down on the other side of Whitley than Coco. "And two more were waiting for us. Fleet Admiral Barut sends, 'We stand ready.' And White Heron sends this: 'What does he want me to do? Oh, and give him a hug for me.'"

He chuckled as he returned the rabbit Faunus's hug, Coco shaking her head at the two of them. When they'd first met, Velvet had been rather standoffish toward Whitley, but they'd gotten more comfortable with each other. "Weiss always hated being touched, growing up. I'm glad to see that some of Ruby has rubbed off on her. I'll have to write her a message in the mor-"

The lights went out, to be replaced by the emergency lights a second later. "Anyone think this is a coincidence?" Coco asked as she fished her scroll out of a pocket. "Comm network's down."

Velvet frowned as she stood. "My implant can't get through either, and it's military-grade. And no, not a coincidence."

"My scroll's military-grade too, you know."

"Ladies, please." Whitley stood and walked over to an unremarkable section of the wall, opening it to reveal an arms cache. "I do believe we're about to have some unexpected guests, so let's make sure we're ready to receive them, hmm?" He pulled out two armored vests, tossing one to each of them.

"It's not really my color," Coco said as she shrugged into the vest, "but one must dress for the occasion."

Thyla Warrow had suffered from bouts of insomnia her entire life, and tonight was one of those nights. So she found herself wandering the ground floor of Whitley's home, tidying up little things that had been missed during the day. Not big things, really, mostly just something here or there that hadn't been dusted or was just out of place. Things like that nagged at her. She was just straightening a picture in the first-floor sitting room when she saw the dark figures scurrying across the lawn.

When Whitley set out to establish his private residence' (which everyone in the capital read as 'love nest') he'd been very particular about the company he used for his security arrangements as well as the employment service he used for the staff. Outwardly, they were two separate companies. In reality, the employment service was a division of the security company, hidden under layers of shell companies and cut-outs.

The end result of this was that if you were willing to pay the price, you could have a household staff that not only were excellent at taking care of things for you, they were an extraordinarily dedicated and skilled security team.

And Whitley had been willing to pay for their absolute best.

So it was that Thyla Warrow (at one time Gunnery Sergeant Warrow, Imperial Marine Corps) gave no visible reaction when she saw the intruders. She just turned out the lights in the sitting room and stepped out into the hallway, stopping to trigger the silent alarm on a hidden panel before helping herself to a rifle and armored vest from another one of Whitley's weapons caches. Swearing under her breath at her bad knees, Thyla took up a firing position along what she guessed to be the intruders' best route to the master suite.

She harbored no illusions that she'd be able to stop the intruders, not one somewhat-past-her-prime gunnery sergeant and a rifle, oh no. But this way, she'd be able to face her ancestors with pride, and maybe buy the prince more time to escape.

Bingo. The intruders crept down the hallway nice and quiet, watching all their angles, avoiding the cameras, even most of the hidden ones. She let four of them get in the room before she took the one in the rear, the deadly thwp-thwp-thwp of the flechette rifle echoing in the silence as he dropped.

Immediately the intruders spun around, trying to figure out where the fire had come from. Thyla had to give them credit, these guys were stone-cold professionals. They didn't waste any time checking on their buddy, they went looking for whoever took him out. She let one of them sweep his rifle past her position before taking him out with another flechette burst.

Teach her for getting cute. The the other two of this team zeroed in on her position, spraying the couch she was hiding behind with pulse fire. She tsked as she hit the floor, spraying fire blindly under the couch and catching one of them in the ankle, swearing as he hit the floor.

"Excuse me," she laughed as she checked her ammo level and decided it wasn't quite time to reload, "I'm sorry but you'll have to come back tomorrow; Prince Whitley has retired for the evening."

She barely had time to see the grenade arcing over her position before it exploded.

"Goddammit," Whitley swore as the video feed from the first floor died. "They've cut the secondary power grid. That means the lift shafts are out. We'll have to take the alternative way out."

"Take it as a compliment; you managed to piss off your dad enough he sent the very best," Velvet laughed softly as she killed the lights before carefully opening the master suite door, peering out carefully to check for movement.

"And there's no way we would have taken the lift shaft anyway; that's asking for them to take us out," Coco whispered, opening another wall panel to reveal a ladder descending into darkness. "You two first, I'll bring up the rear."

"No." Velvet's voice was firm as she took up position to cover the entrance to the suite. "You first, you're more important than I am."

"But-"

"Shut up and listen. When we get out of here, the press is more likely to listen to a human than a Faunus any day of the week. It's shitty but it's true. Plus you're Whitley's official girlfriend, right? Adds extra weight to your words." Bitterness crept into Velvet's words as she continued. "Whereas me, I'm just some rabbit-eared bit of fluff he keeps around for laughs."

"No, you're not, and you never have been." Now it was Whitley's turn to be firm, commanding. "When I found out Coco was married to you, I was willing to walk away from her, remember? Coco was by far the best option for a partner in what I saw coming, and the most desirable, but there were other options. When you said the two of you were a package deal, I accepted that. We all leave here tonight or none of us do, that's how this works. If it makes you feel any better, I'll let you trigger the Last Laugh."

Velvet started to rise and turn to face Whitley, but before she could answer him, the door blew in, pulse rifle fire spraying blindly into the suite's sitting room. She swore as she dropped back down, blindly firing a grenade from the launcher built into her rifle through the wreckage of the door.

"Help me, he's been hit!" Coco yelled, dragging Whitley into cover.

"No, I'll hold them off, give you time to get away!"

"Velvet, if you're not right behind us-"

"Ungh," Whitley groaned as he pushed himself up on his elbows. "Well, this is my first time ever being shot, or shot at, for that matter. I don't recommend either one."

"Come on, let's get you down the ladder," Coco said, helping him to his feet.

"You first." Coco started to protest, but Whitley shook his head. "If my grip slips, I may need you to catch me, after all. And Velvet, I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Velvet asked under her breath as she sprayed rifle fire at the entrance to the suite. She'd ask him later if she remembered.

When Velvet reached the bottom of the ladder, she found Whitley passed out by to the ground-car that had been left there for their escape, the med-kit open next to him as Coco treated his wound. "How bad is it?"

"Bad. He's got internal bleeding and gut wounds are always nasty. Hopefully, we can get him to a doctor or automedic before sepsis sets in."

Velvet bit her lip as she watched Coco bandaging Whitley, seeing the concern on her wife's face. "You like him, don't you?"

"What? No."

The rabbit-eared woman shook her head. "Coco, you've never been able to lie to me worth a damn and you know it, so don't even try now."

Coco sighed. "Alright, it's not so much that I like him or anything, it's just… it's more like I respect him, for what he's done, what he's tried to do. He could have just waited to take the throne and then started cleaning up his father's mess. Instead, he started now, fighting his father and gathering the evidence to take him down. I'm sorry, Velv, I really am."

"I'm not mad. I kinda like him too. He's always been nice to you, and to me, nicer than I ever expected a Schnee to be, at least before I met Weiss." A muffled thump and a shower of dirt came from the ladder above and Velvet could see a severed arm lying in the pile of dirt. "Looks like they just hit the first booby-trap on the ladder. I'll drive while you nurse Prince Not-So-Charming there."

Velvet checked the time as they pulled out of the tunnel. Should be right about … now. A fireball blossomed in the night, wilted and was gone, leaving the crackling of a forest fire. Not a nuclear weapon, but a fuel-air bomb. Just as devastating and easier to tailor to the level of destruction you want.

"A pity," Whitley muttered. "It was such a lovely house."

"You rest," Coco said softly, brushing a stray hair out of his face.

"Yes, I have to be conscious before we leave the system, don't I?" His eyes started to flutter shut, but before he slipped into unconsciousness, Whitley said, "Coco?"

"One more word out of you, and I'm hitting you with a stunner."

"I hold both you and Velvet in high regard. I wanted you to know that, just in case."

"In case of nothing, Whitley. Sleep."

Velvet collapsed against the wall as the roll-up door clanged shut. The drive to the hangar where Whitley had stashed their escape ship had been nerve-wracking. With his 'assassination' all over the news, the police in and around the capital had been on high alert. Luckily some quickly-applied hair dye and a story about a friend who was 'passed-out drunk' had been enough to get them past the checkpoints they hadn't been able to avoid.

Coco was onboard already, looking for the battered freighter's medical bay. Whitley had said it was well-stocked, but right now she'd be satisfied with a decent trauma kit. "Anything, Coco?" Velvet yelled up the ramp.

"There's a damn Navy-grade automedic in here. Come have a look!" From the outside, the ship looked like a run-down tramp freighter nobody would look at twice. Inside, it was still a run-down tram freighter nobody would look at twice, but one that had been well-refurbished. The 'medical bay' was a fully-automated surgical suite, with a dedicated limited intelligence attached. Not much of a conversationalist, but it pronounced Whitley 'stable and ready to regain consciousness, as long as he remains in bed and receives prompt regular attention' within a day.

Coco and Velvet couldn't wait to leave. The newsfeeds had been running nonstop speculation about the events at Whitley's home, and every noise or light outside the hangar had set their hearts racing. But Whitley had been very firm on this point. If they made it to the hangar, he wanted them to wait until he either regained consciousness or he was dead. If he died, they were to freeze the body and run to the Corsairs. If he lived…

Whitley sat, propped up in a bunk. "Is everything—" Whitley stopped, grimacing in pain, then cleared his throat before continuing— "is everything ready?" he asked, his voice much more firm.

Velvet nodded. "Drive's hot and ready, and comm-code you gave us says it's ready. Are you sure about this? We could take a short hop, let them chase their tails for a bit."

He shook his head. "The sooner the better, unfortunately. If I stay 'dead' too long it weakens my position, makes me less credible. It has to be done now, before I leave the system." She nodded and started the camera. "People of the Empire…." he began.

"People of the Empire, by now you have no doubt heard of the tragic events at my home outside the Imperial capital. And by now, you have either chosen to believe the official version of events, some alternate version of events you found somewhere on the network, or come up with some other theory of your own invention.

"No matter what you believe, the truth is far, far worse.

"It's no secret anymore that my father, the Emperor, and I have disagreed greatly over the past few years. Last night a team of assassins, sent by my father, broke into my home and tried to kill me. They obviously failed. I was fortunate enough to escape but was gravely injured in the process.

"My father is no longer fit for the throne. He and those close to him have committed crimes that, if committed by 'lesser' men, would result in their executions. Instead, their power and position lead them to believe themselves above the law. But here in the Empire, no-one is above the law, not even the Emperor himself.

"But I am not going to ask you to take my word alone for this. Attached to this message you will find a portion of the evidence I have managed to gather. I can only it will be enough to convince you that I am telling the truth.

"It is my intent to challenge my father for the throne, preferably legally but if that fails, then by force of arms. This is not a step I take gladly, or without a grim sense of the consequences for the Empire, but at this point, I feel I have no choice.

"For the common citizens of the Empire, I ask only that you do your best to stay out of the hurricane that I fear is about to sweep over the Empire. You are the lifeblood and the strength of the Empire, and I would see as many of you live through this as possible.

"Yours in service, Prince Whitley Schnee."

The video ended, and Weiss collapsed against Ruby, tears tracing a path down her alabaster skin. "He's alive," she whispered, her voice still heavy with the anguish she'd felt when she first heard the news about the events at Whitley's home.

"Yeah, but he's fixing to take on the whole goddamn empire!" Yang said with a snort. Blake short her wife a glare, and Yang shrugged. "Well, he is."

"So what are you going to do?" Ruby asked Weiss, running her fingers through Weiss's hair to calm her.

Weiss shook her head gently, not wanting to break contact with Ruby. "I'm not Princess Weiss anymore, remember? I'm White Heron, a Corsair fighter pilot. I go where the ship goes."

"Dolt," Ruby laughed, bopping Weiss on the head gently. "As much as we pretend otherwise, everyone knows exactly who you are, and nobody's going to pretend you don't have a stake in this."

"'A stake in this?' I only want one thing out of this. I want you the four of us as safe as I can manage."

"Then what do you want to do? How do you achieve that?"

"I…" Weiss trailed off, not sure what to say. "I guess the first step would be to ask the Captain's Council what their intent is. But I have to support my brother. There's no safe anywhere for us while my father's still emperor.

It took every iota of discipline Commander Garnett had not to fidget as the Corsair shuttle entered Bercyon IV's landing bay. Her crew and the Marines onboard weren't exactly prisoners, but they'd been asked not to leave 'until the situation is resolved.' She snorted. Why not call them prisoners and be honest about it?

And then that nonsense about the Prince being assassinated, and him not being dead after all but blaming the Emperor for trying to have him killed? Garnett sighed. She wasn't sure what to believe, or what she should do, but maybe now she'd at least know where she stood with the Corsairs. Two hours ago the garishly-painted cruiser had dropped out of hyperspace and requested permission to come aboard and address the ship's company. Garnett had decided that discretion was the better part of valor and agreed. But why had they requested that a medic be present?

The shuttle's ramp hissed down, and out tromped a double line of Corsair marines in full power armor, taking position as an honor guard. Well, this is either really good or really bad. Corsairs didn't stand on ceremony much, so whoever this was had to be really important.

Then another figure appeared at the top of the ramp, and Garnett's jaw dropped. There stood Princess Weiss Schnee, in full imperial court robes, complete with the rather odd accessory of a Corsair's blade at her waist. A step behind her was a woman in a red Corsair dress uniform with the badge of a ship's captain. Bringing up the rear was a blonde woman in full court robes, this one wearing an outcast's mask and arm-in-arm with a black-haired Faunus woman.

Princess Weiss stopped in front of Garnett and bowed. "Thank you for agreeing to see me, Captain. I do apologize for everything, but these are interesting times, I think you will agree. At this point, I'd like to ask you for two favors, and then I and my escort will depart, and you and your ship will be free to go wherever you wish.

"The first favor is that I'd like your medic to take a blood sample, and whatever other samples he deems necessary to verify my identity. The second thing I'd like to do is to address your ship's company and transmit that to an address I will give you."

Garnett agreed, and the medic took his samples, then Garnett gestured for the princess to take her place. Weiss's head turned to take in the assembled crew and marines, then she began to speak.

"We live in dangerous times. My brother, Prince Whitley, has openly challenged my father for the throne, accusing him of a great number of terrible crimes. Here and now I will not speak of the crimes my father stands accused of, I will only speak of his crimes against me.

"While I was at combat school, I fell in love and asked the woman I loved to marry me. She accepted. After I told my father the news, he told me to return home to Atlas and we'd discuss it, even going so far as to send his own yacht to carry me. I never arrived there.

"Instead, I found myself in exile, sent against my will to a monastery where I was told I would be beaten if I spoke or sang, or even cried out I pain. The monks enforced my father's decree, on pain of their ancient and hallowed monastery being destroyed. I endured there for five years before lying to make my escape.

"But worse is what happened to my love. Her father was falsely convicted of treason, her family stripped of their fortune, lands, and title, and all of them condemned to death. My love and her sister escaped, declared themselves outcast and took up the path of the Corsair.

"So, after escaping the monastery, I found myself compelled to escape once more, and flee to my love. I became an outcast and a Corsair, just like my love. And that is where I have been since my 'kidnapping.'

"The evidence to clear Taiyang Xiao Long of the crimes he was condemned for is among what my brother sent when he challenged my father. Look it over yourselves and decide. For my part, I am convicted, and throw my support behind my brother."

Now the blonde woman stepped forward, the red-uniformed captain at her heels. They removed their outcast masks together, and the blonde woman spoke. "I am Yang Xiao Long, heir of the House of Xiao Long, Everything Princess Weiss said is true. For the crime of answering 'Yes' when the woman she loved proposed to her, my sister saw her family ruined and sentenced to death.

"I speak now for the Corsairs, and relay the words of Fleet Admiral Barut: Emperor Jacques, the Corsairs have known for a long time what sort of monster you are. Stand down, and spare the Empire the pain. But if you want a fight, the Corsairs will give you one. Come and face us, if you dare."

With that, the Corsairs marched neatly back aboard the shuttle. After they'd left, comm tech scurried up to Commander Garnett. "Ma'am? That code they gave us? It's an Empire-wide emergency broadcast code. The whole Empire saw that."

Garnett spat a curse under her breath. "Then you'd better hurry and get that cruiser on the line before they go. Ask them if they're hiring, or at least if they know where a good bar is."