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Wind from the arriving airship tugged restlessly at Sand’s tied hair as she waited at Beacon’s docks. The Atlesian design left little doubt as to the purpose of its presence, but it was not until she spied the Ministry of Science’s logo through squinted eyes that she glanced back at her companions, motioning them forward with a tilt of her head.  

Robert was with her, as was Trad, but Grane was nowhere to be seen. The snake faunus had left earlier that week with nary a word to the rest, leaving the reasons for his departure for the others to guess. Sand herself could only think of it as the result of his friend’s death—[i]the one I summarily replaced,[/i]she thought to herself bitterly—and the young man’s clear dislike for Robert. The departure had left her with a complicated feeling. While it was clear to her now that the young Huntsman had been considering leaving for some time, a part of her wondered if this had been a failure on her part, and if Grane would still be there with them if she had forced herself to approach him rather than waiting for a more convenient time.

In his place now was a young woman by the name of Violet, the wolf-tail and the ears sprouting from her head giving a clear clue as to her ancestry. From what Sand had seen, Violet struck her as reserved, but competent, and there had not truly been clashes between her and the rest of them so far. It was a guilty relief for her that she no longer had to deal with open animosity between team members. Having another girl on board also alleviated some mild privacy concerns she had had over the previous week, but that was not something she would openly admit.

Sand led them to the ship’s extended ramp, giving curt nods to the guards as she passed.

She had been the one to suggest this mission to the others. In part it had been because the mission description indicated that their actual participation as more than an escort was contingent on things going [i]wrong[/i], and as much as optimism was a rare thing for her to harbor, she wanted to leave some room for the minuscule possibility that this would be little more than a team-building exercise for this unfamiliar team of theirs. The other reason she had chosen it was because she had some experience working with people in the Atlas Ministry of Science, and seeing its participation in one of the posted missions drew her attention. Who was to say? Perhaps the inspector would be someone she knew.

Of course, when they actually came face to face with the one they were supposed to escort, she knew that was not the case.

She would have remembered [i]that.[/i]

Even as she studiously maintained her neutral expression, she could not help but to eye the woman from head to toes. Their client looked like a real-life doll, and she could only hope the others’ ogling was nearly as discrete as her own. All she knew was that the woman—Thoúlē Aristeas—had addressed them as professionally as could be expected from an Atlas representative, and she was damned if she would be the one bringing attention to the pink elephant in the room and its pet poodle.

“Understood ma’am,” she answered curtly with a respectful nod. She would have extended a hand, but she was half-convinced the dog in the woman’s arms would try snapping at her fingers. She motioned at her group. “I am Sand Vespa and these are Trad Oak, Robert Fallson and Violet Steel. We will act as your escort for this inspection. Before we set out, is there anything we should know that wasn’t included in the mission description?”

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