Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Arc 1: Chapter 1

Jaune stared at the large recruitment office, the clear blue sky juxtaposing with the raging storm of nerves battling within him.

He was dressed in a plain white T-shirt and denim jeans. The only items of ownership otherwise present were the small backpack containing food, comics and his father's sword, Crocea Mors.

He gulped nervously as he mustered the courage to ascend the marble steps and head inside.

As soon as he passed the front doors and entered the main foyer, the serene composition outside changed to reveal the bombed out and battle-scarred inside of the building.

The roof had a massive hole in it, and rubble and debris lay scattered everywhere. Scorch marks adorned all the walls, or rather what remained of them, and several rooms were sealed off with either police tape or debris, or they simply didn't even exist anymore.

The only thing remaining surprisingly intact was the large admissions counter, which was manned by two people. A young woman with her blonde hair tied into a bun, and a man in army fatigues standing guard with an automatic rifle.

"H-hi," he began. His voice sounded pathetic, even to him. Still, he mustered the nerves to continue, clearing his voice to be stronger and more confident.

The woman looked up to him, revealing a medical eye-patch over a fresh injury. Most likely from the bomb that went off and claimed a portion of this very building, he surmised.

"Are you here to sign up for recruitment?" she asked, almost cheerily as if nothing about the current setting was wrong.

"Yeah," he approached the counter, setting his bag down.

Conscription was going to be announced in the next couple of days according to the information broker he had visited. Therefore, if he wanted to have any chance at getting out of fighting on the front-lines, his only real bet was to enlist now and apply for the reserves.

At least that was what he was told. And what he paid for. It was hard to know if he had been scammed at this point, actually.

"I'm here to sign up with the Army."

The woman produced an application form with lightning speed.

"Sure thing. All you need to do is fill out this form, and sign here." She produced another form, "and then answer some basic questions, and we'll take care of the rest."

"Um, sure," he nodded awkwardly, accepting the paperwork painfully slowly.

The questions were pretty standard. Age, gender, occupation, medical history and some other details. The next form contained a legal waiver, including things pertaining to contracted years of service and some other legal jargon. He didn't pay too much attention to it. Like really, why did this sort of stuff even get mentioned?

He filled out the information as required, and it was only when it came to previous occupations and experience that his mind seized up.

He remembered what the broker told him.

In order to get fast tracked to a cushy role that didn't risk deployment, he needed to repeat everything the broker had told him to write. And when it came time for verification, he just needed to provide the conveniently created paper trail by the broker to the recruiters and let them do the rest.

His name was Jaune Arc, and he had prior Huntsman training under private tutelage. Technically true. Sort of. His father had taught him some basic stuff growing up, and he had gotten involved in some basic sparring with friends. Even if those matches always ended up with him getting pounded to the ground.

That wasn't the nerve-wracking part to write. It was what followed. And what he was about to write could very well change his life for the better or worse, depending if he got caught out.

Past experience: Army reserve Cadet Corps, NCO training supplied to rank of Cadet-Sergeant. Excelled in logistical and supply organization and preparation. Team leader and supplementary trainer for fellow subordinate cadets.

Trained at the New Mount Glenn Preparatory Academy Reservists Cadet School.

He nervously finished signing the document.

Technically, he excelled video games, whether RPG's or strategy, so he had a rough idea of how logistics worked. Maybe? Ah, who was he kidding. Everything he had just written was a load of bull. However, the broker assured him that since the school was bombed to oblivion in the attack, there had been no survivors documented, and any previous documentation was destroyed, meaning it would be next to impossible to trace his credentials beyond what he provided. And what he provided as evidence were faked documents, courtesy of the broker.

With these, he could apply directly for the Vale Officer School and, with the current crisis, he could get deployed to the rear and lead a cushy, safe and comfortable job managing supplies and logistics right here in Vale.

He wouldn't need to worry about being drafted and forced to the meat-grinder that was the front-line. Even he, in his naïve state, knew how much of a terrible thing the front-lines were.

The stories coming out of Mistral were terrifying, and a quick internet search of uncensored footage turned from excited curiosity to vomit-inducing dread.
That poor guy… He shuddered as he recalled the footage.

The second benefit of being from a cadet school was that all Preparatory academies operated distinctly different from the actual military. They were not as strict on the actual parade, drill and regulations aspect, meaning his lack of experience could be written off as inconsequential without blowing his cover. After-all, according to his falsified records, he was NOT an over-achiever. He was just competent. At least, this was according to the broker.

"Remember. The key thing is not to stand out too much. Appear competent and valuable, but not too much so and you'll get your cushy job in the rear echelon. Capiche?"

The words rang in his mind as he finished the application process by signing the dotted line with his name.

He barely slid it forward before the clerk greedily snatched it from him, practically hammering the stamp down on the documents without a glance.

"Great! Congratulations. Welcome to the Vale Self Defense Force! If you take the hallway to the right you'll find a general community barracks which you can stay in until orientation tomorrow evening!" she beamed with excitement.

"Errrr?" he glanced to his right. Police tape sealed off the corridor, and a forensics team could be seen cleaning up debris and… was that a man's arm being dragged off?!

"You silly. Your other right!" she repeated at his confused expression.

He looked down his left, as that was the only other hallway in the building. The hallway currently blocked off by a mountain of rubble having caved in and opened the roof.

"M-maybe just come back here tomorrow at O'900 hours…" she faltered. The roof groaned as a beam crashed down behind her chair, narrowly missing her.

"Yeah…" he smiled weakly. "I'll… I'll just do that…."

Welcome to the Army Reserves he supposed?

The Second Faunus War, because apparently it wasn't the first time the faunus had decided to give humanity the giant middle finger in the form of a fuck-off bomb being dropped on a civilian infrastructure in an unrelated country to the one that actually had beef with you. Because, sure, why not?

Jaune sighed as he flicked through the various TV channels in his crummy apartment. Emphasise on crummy. It was a used drug-den, and the bullet holes in the walls and ceiling weren't from the war. Menagerie had not sent their army into Vale yet. At least, according to the media anyways.

Speaking of, there was nothing entertaining to watch. No X-Ray man, anime or even those god-awful soap operas and musicals his sisters would watch.

He wanted to bash his head against the wall as every channel seemed to only be covering the recent events of the terror attack. Or as the media and government were declaring it, 'an unprovoked declaration of war'.

Still, it was hard to argue against that.

"- and the estimated casualties of bomb, suspected to be a Dust-Enhanced Cluster Munition, are currently at 33,376 confirmed dead. 68,000 were severely wounded, with over 20,000 in critical condition. Health officials warn that over 80% of those critically wounded will not be able to receive medical attention and will likely die due to the extensive damage inflicted upon the Health Sector. Three major hospitals were destroyed, leaving only three more within Vale City to care for the influx of wounded. Overcrowding, staff and bed shortages have contributed to an ever-growing wait time for treatment, and authorities will only be admitting those with treatable injuries. There are still another 10,000 missing persons from the attack –"

He switched the channel, only to be hit with the same topic and coverage.

" - and following this attack, Menagerie has issued a public statement claiming responsibility for the attack – "

"-citing escalation of arms supply to Atlas and Mistral for the war effort – "

" – Menagerie has issued a chilling warning that any who dare to intervene in the war will face serious consequences – "

" – calls for the mobilization of the VSDF to conduct a retaliatory strike against the Faunus kingdom – "

"- No. The Huntsmen have stood as direct counter to the Grimm. That is their mission and purpose, and all training has been dedicated towards that effort. Huntsmen are not trained as military operatives to conduct warfare against their fellow man." "But Headmaster, surely you can see this is not a civil war, but rather a fight for humanity's survival against Faunus aggression?"

" – incoming food shortages as a warehouse storing grain and canned goods has exploded. Authorities have reported that the explosion happened at 2 am this morning, and was likely a result of damaged gas build-up following a pipe reroute after the main network was damaged following the terror attack – ".

He flicked the TV off with a heavy sigh.

As much as he wanted to skip out on the news, it was all very important. And overwhelming too.

Not for the first time he was glad that his family actually didn't decide to come down to the city. He felt sick even just imagining if they had been anywhere near the explosion.

As he climbed into bed, trying his best to ignore the sounds of rats scurrying on the floor and his upstairs neighbors having angry sex, he pulled out his scroll.

He was greeted by a slew of worried text-messages and missed phone calls from his mother, father and sisters. They dated back as far as two weeks ago when he first decided to leave home and head to Vale. Back when he was planning on applying to become a Huntsman. And being rejected by his fake transcripts.

His eyes went wide.

Oh crap, I forgot to change my name in those transcripts! If they look back, they'll connect them to my application for the Reserves and think I'm a failure and I'll never get in!

He whimpered. The rest of the night went by and he didn't get much sleep as his nerves got the better of him. That and the rats squeaking in the apartment. At least the dust heater in the corner was working to keep him warm.

The sound of the dust heater having power cut to it, combined with the sound of a rat screaming as it chewed through a live wire told him that the night was not only going to be long, but cold….

Come the morning and he found himself approaching the Recruitment Centre with all of his personal belongings, same as yesterday.

Just as he began to climb the steps he faltered.

This could be the last time I can contact my parents for a while…. He'd been hiding from the calls for weeks now, but after the attack that happened, it felt wrong to disregard their worry like that now. It felt cruel even.

He brought the scroll up and began to dial the number connecting to his mother's scroll.

It rang. And rang. And rang.

No answer. Darn.

He pocketed it. It hurt to not get an answer, but then again he supposed it was only fair considering how he had ghosted them.

I'll make it up to you later. I promise, he vowed.

He ascended the steps, and entered the foyer.

Instantly he was confused. The lady from yesterday was manning the counter as usual, but there was no-one around.

"Uhhhhh? Miss?"

The woman looked up, just as confused as he was.

"John?"

"Jaune," he corrected, but she seemed to not care.

"Oh, right. What are you doing here right now?"

"Uh, well, I'm here for orientation…?"

"No no," she shook her head, almost in a panic. "I mean what are you doing here right now. Orientation has already started, you're fifteen minutes late!"

His eyes went wide as saucers as she panicked. And he panicked.

"Oh crap…."

"Quick, down the hall to your right, then turn left into the courtyard!"

He ran.

"Your other right!"

"It's still blocked off!" he screamed as he ran down the hallway. The police tape had been cleared, as well as any major obstructions.

He ran for what seemed like ten minutes straight. It probably was as he was certain he passed the same burnt doorway already, but after the third time seeing it he decided he should probably check it out.

As he thundered down the hallway, cursing himself for loading his backpack with so many heavy comics, he finally burst out into the courtyard, causing everyone's heads to turn in surprise and the military instructor to look at him with a strange expression.

"Is… is this orientation?" he panted, clutching his knees.

The courtyard was a large patch of perfectly manicured grass, surrounded by marble paving in a perfect square. It looked serene and beautiful were it not for the surrounding buildings being a mixture of collapsing walls or rubble.

There were about twenty-five people standing in five rows of five each, even spaced. They looked more military than he felt, and they were still dressed in regular civilian clothes like himself.

"And who the hell are you?" asked the instructor calmly. Too calmly.

"Ah," he righted himself.

"Jaune Arc. Short and sweet, rolls off the tongue. The ladies love it," he smiled, only to regret it as he went back down. He wasn't an athlete by any means, but he wasn't exactly lazy either.

A few of the girls up front giggled at his comment, while one of the boys, a burly teenager with short brown hair snorted.

"Do I look like a fucking lady to you?" retorted the instructor, a clean shaven man with short grey hair and a green military dress uniform.

"Ah, well, no," he began, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"No I fucking do not!" agreed the instructor heatedly.

"I mean, I would never want to assume," Jaune hurriedly explained.

"Assume what, private? That you are in fact being an idiot?"

"No! That you are a woman! I-I mean I know you're not. Clearly! Judging by y-your lack of… womanly bits…" he trailed off. He was just making this situation worse, wasn't he.

The instructor stared at him dangerously while some of the other recruits went wide-eyed in shock. Others attempted to desperately hold back their laughter.

"Recruit. Are you by chance insinuating that I am not beautiful enough to be a woman? By what powers of observation did you deduce that I am in fact not a woman? Perchance will you use those same skills to realise you are perhaps testing my patience right now?"

Jaune swallowed. Hard.

"Uh, no… actually, I never got your name? Um. What is it by the way?"

"Recruit. Orientation started at 0845 hours. It is currently 0910 hours." It was?! Crap, he really was late then. But wait, that woman said 0900 hours?

"Introductions were at the start of orientation. If you cannot meet the basic requirements of time attendance, then I see no need in giving you my name as you will fail long before graduation."

The instructor somehow managed to stand even taller and more straight.

"I am your Drill Instructor. You will refer to me as Drill Sergeant!"

Jaune offered the man a thumbs up to show his support.

"Ah, nice to meet you, uh, drill sergeant. I'm Jaune Arc, short sweet, rolls –" "-off the tongue, the ladies love it? We know recruit," repeated the Insctructor unimpressed. "We all heard, and frankly, no-one in their right mind is going to ever repeat that. That is too long. Your new designation is Recruit Jackass. Now, get into formation right this instant before I decide your face needs a cosmetic uplift."

The tone brokered no nonsense, and, feeling sensibly intimidated, Jaune decided to clamp shut.

Without knowing the first thing about how to fit into this formation, he slid up next to the guy in the middle row that snorted earlier while the instructor picked off from where he was speaking before Jaune crashed his orientation.

Said guy couldn't help but do a double-take as he squeezed in right next to him with no regard for spacing.

"Dude, are you fucking mental?!" he whispered, a cross between anger and raw fear.

Jaune's intelligent response was to turn his head and look at him with confusion.

"Get to the back of the formation or he's going to smoke us both!"

"He said fit into the formation! How else am I supposed to do that?!"

"Dude, did you not read the manual they assigned us when you signed the dotted line?!"

Jaune blinked. The lady at the counter most certainly did not give him any reading material.

"…No…"

"Oh, fuck man…."

While this was going on, the instructor was continuing his speech.

"You are property of the Valean Self Defense Force Military. Your property is now the government's property. Including your lives! Which you will be expected to lay down in honour and defense of this glorious kingdom!"

He let the words sink in, but instead of silence greeting him he could hear the suspicious sound of whispered chatter.

His head spun wickedly fast as he narrowed his eyes in Jaune's direction.

"Recruit Jackass! Recruit Winchester! That seems to be a lovely conversation you are holding there. Mind sharing with the others what you find to be so much more important than listening to your direct superior give you instructions?"

Recruit Winchester instantly went pale as he found himself the centre of attention. Jaune stopped as well, but he still didn't understand the other guy's sudden panic.

"No sir!" blurted out Winchester before suddenly grimacing as he realized his blunder.

"I AM NOT SIR! I AM DRILL SERGEANT! Sir is for useless cuckolds like your sperm donor who grifted by recruit Winchester! And what the hell do you mean no?! I ASKED YOU A QUESTION RECRUIT!"

Winchester opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. Too slow.

"YOU ARE BOTH OFFICIALLY ON MY SHIT LIST NOW! You will both report to me after 1800 hours! So help me Brother Gods above if you are late or give me any lip and I will ride your ass harder than a bull during heat!"

"Yes Drill Sergeant," grit out Winchester. Jaune was quick to imitate him, reciting the same words.

"Good. Now…" the Drill Sergeant began to deliver his instructions in an aggressive fashion, leaving the duo standing stock still and grimacing. Any attempts to speak or catch Winchester's attention were rebuffed with paranoid silence.

"You will spend the next six weeks undergoing basic training and assessment before being assigned to a predetermined Division and Role based on your performance," explained the instructor.

All Jaune could do was question what exactly he had just signed himself up for and if it was worth it.

Of course it's worth it. At the end of six weeks I'll be able to get into the Officer Academy and then it's smooth sailing….

All he needed to do was just pass the training and survive the orientation.

Six weeks and I'll be set.

He couldn't help but smile….

Chapter Text

Arc 1: Chapter 2:

Orientation passed by relatively quickly and was mostly a lecture on duty, expectations and (he assumed earlier) introductions.

"You will surrender any and all personal belongings, including your scroll, for the duration of this six-week training and assessment course. You will then be assigned a standard uniform and hygiene tools. The Army will equip everything you will ever need."

He paced in front of them, hands behind his back and eyes front at all times.

"Any unapproved materials, items and products are contraband, and if you are caught with them, you will receive disciplinary action and a night in the brig. Major infractions can result in more severe penalties as outlined in the VSDF Infantry Manual. Am I understood!"

A chorus of 'yes-sir' resonated from the assembled people in the courtyard.

After being forced to walk in two uniform columns, they were taken inside the building down another corridor before exiting into an even larger courtyard which housed several buildings not connected to the main administrative complex.

A large field, which was still coated with debris and rubble from the half-destroyed main one, stretched out before them before ending at a forest with trees that were knocked down or missing leaves entirely. Another product of the bomb blast no doubt.

"Division! This is the Vale Defense Training Army Barracks. Until your deployment, this will be your home. You will treat it with the respect it deserves," everyone ignored the groan of wood and mortar as the damaged barrack roof shifted.

"There are three buildings besides the administrative complex. The barracks, which is where you will sleep and eat. The armory," he gestured to another building off to the side and nearly attached to the wall of the main complex.

"And the study hall," he pointed to the final building. It was a multi-storied building with a spired tower attached to it, overlooking a large obstacle-course in the field. It grew out of the edge of the main complex itself.

Half of the building itself was missing, and Jaune vowed he would be caught dead before he dared to enter that death-trap of a tower that looked like it was ready to topple over any second.

"You will deposit your belongings in an orderly manner. You will then take a FIVE minute shower and proceed to get changed into your assigned uniform. You will then report here and form up for PT assessment. You have fifteen minutes. Anyone that is late, and the whole division will be forced to do an extra three laps of the perimeter for every minute you delay. Your time starts now."

Everyone stood still, looking around at each other with confusion.

"Did I stutter? What is there so hard to comprehend? MOVE!"

U-um, sir – Drill Sergeant!" instantly a girl with short bobcut brown hair. She was Jaune's height and age, at least he assumed. Her skin was a darker complexion than most others.

"Recruit Amber. Is there something wrong?" glared the instructor, daring her to continue. Bravely, she did.

"Um, that's a small building," she gestured to the barracks. "Are there enough showers for all of us?"

"There are ample," stated the instructor irritably.

"Er, well, you see, it's just there are a lot of us, and it seems like fifteen minutes is not enough time for us all to take a turn…."

"Recruit Amber, who on God's green Remnant suggested taking turns? This isn't a fucking orgy. It's a communal shower. The Army isn't interested in catering to individual needs. Get in there with the rest of the division, strip, shower, get changed, and report back within the fifteen minutes. What is so hard to understand about that?"

Amber's eyes went wide, as did many of the other recruits. The other girls seemed a little off-put, and even some of the men seemed uncertain.

The instructor eyed them all with a stern glare.

"You have fourteen minutes left? What, do you all want to do extra PT?"

It was chaos. Everyone started to scramble to the showers. Some of the men were already stripping entirely as they were running, entering the barracks buck-naked.

The girls screamed obscenities at the men, warning them not to dare look at them.

Jaune raced behind recruit Winchester who at least had the decency to wait until he was inside before stripping.

As the two entered the showers they were greeted with the sound of running water in a large open tiled room with several drains.

As Jaune began to strip, he glanced up at Winchester.

"So, the instructor seems a little intense…. Don't you think?"

Winchester grunted as he stripped and Jaune couldn't help but go wide-eyed as he saw the massive muscles he was boasting.

"Wow, you're packing," he commented in awe. He was no slouch himself, revealing his own musculature. Where he was lean and defined, Winchester was chiseled and massive.

The brown-haired boy glanced at with a look that read as what the fuck?

"Dude, are you looking at my dick? Don't you know the bro code?!"

Instinctively Jaune looked down and instantly regretted it.

It just wasn't fair. The man was packing in more than just one way.

Shaking his head he entered the water.

"Uh, sorry, not really."

"Weirdo," Winchester rolled his eyes.

He might not be the swiftest person alive, but he wasn't entirely dense. Rubbing the back of his head nervously he moved closer.

"Ah, sorry. Let me start again. The name's Jaune, short, sweet –"

"Cardin," he interrupted. "And it's just Cardin. Don't need a long winded title," before sighing.

"Look, let's just focus on the task at hand. We can get introduced later. But only later. I don't want to piss off the instructor any more than he is."

Jaune couldn't help but agree at that assessment, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Who is that guy?"

Cardin stared at him dumbly, and so did a couple of the other recruits.

"Are you serious? Do you actually have no idea?"

Jaune chuckled nervously.

"Ah-ha. Not really…?"

Another boy with blonde hair exclaimed wildly.

"Dude, how can you not know? He's the greatest soldier that ever lived!"

Cardin winced as the guy flashed him without any shame.

"Dove, can you not right now?"

Dove continued. "What, I'm just saying. The Instructor's a legend!"

Jaune looked around in confusion.

"Wait, really? Who is he?"

Another man with silver shoulder-length hair responded as he scrubbed his body thoroughly.

"That's Major Bigby Ballsin."

He stared at him, and the man faltered. Cardin elaborated. "He's a veteran of the First Faunus War and a war hero."

Wait, really? But the war was over sixty years ago….

"Wow, he's old," Jaune blurted out.

"Yeah no shit," agreed Sky. Cardin looked visibly upset.

"Hey watch it! The man's one of the strongest non-huntsmen warriors ever to exist!"

Sky quickly raised his hands to placate Cardin.

"Woah woah, I didn't mean anything, but it is the truth."

Jaune couldn't help his curiosity.

"Really?"

"Yup," boasted Cardin proudly, puffing out his chest as he grinned with pride.

"They don't call him Major Big Balls for no reason. He was a Cleaner during the war, and he personally cleared over 40 bunkers by himself. He led some of the largest cavalry charges ever in history, and his units suffered the highest casualty rates at over 80%. Yet every single time he won the day and came back unscathed. That's how much of a badass he is," he grinned.

Really? Jaune wondered. 80% casualty rate certainly wasn't something to be proud of. Then again, he'd never seen war before so who was he to say.

Oh god, he gulped in realization. I really can't be sent to the front-lines.

"Yeah, and the guy'stechnically a war criminal as well," snorted another man with a bleached mohawk and beady eyes. He had a wiry frame and seemed even weaker than Jaune.

Cardin scowled.

"I'd hardly call putting the animals in their place a crime Russel. Besides, they've just proven everyone right again. Look at what they just did to us." He clenched his fists and grit his teeth in anger.

Russel shrugged.

"Hey, that's what the faunus have called him anyways."

Amber , who was nearby, couldn't help but call out.

"I have to agree with the faunus on that assessment. He was a Cleaner, and Cleaners were notorious for murdering civilians indiscriminately in the war," she argued.

Cardin twitched in irritation as he glared in her direction

"What are you, a sympathizer?"

"Oh, I'm not arguing that. I've just travelled a lot and heard things over the years is all," she explained at his glare before suddenly feeling self-conscious. Her cheeks heated up as she tucked into herself.

"Q-quit staring, you pervert."

Cardin recoiled.

"I-I'm… what? I'm not staring? Quit looking at me, I'm naked too!" he slapped his hands over his own nethers to hide them from view.

Jaune decided it was probably better if he just focused on showering and getting back into formation.

Miraculously, everyone made it to formation in time. They were dressed in green combat pants, black boots and white T-shirts emblazoned with the words VSDF at the front.

"Well, what do you know. Perhaps you aren't as useless as you look…" drawled the Instructor and Jaune felt relief.

"Is what I would say if you actually weren't useless."

And there said relief went.

"What in the actual fuck was that?! If I ever catch you stripping like that on the lawns, I will personally eviscerate with you so much PT that your grandkids, gods forbid you have any, will be feeling your pain."

He stood up straight.

"Ten extra laps after PT. Timed. If any of you fuck up, then I will fuck YOU up! Understood!"

He didn't even wait for the chorus of 'yes sir', and mercifully he chose to ignore the collective groans.

"Before that, however, we will be doing a physical assessment on each and every one of you. You will all run two timed circuits on the obstacle course before doing 2 laps around the perimeter, which will equal 10km. The doctors will take your measurements and readings and you will be graded. Anything under 60% is an automatic failure."

Jaune gulped. Failure certainly didn't seem good. Then again, how hard could it be? The fifteen minutes to shower and get changed wasn't too hard?

This was the hardest he had ever pushed himself. He panted as he pulled himself over the wooden wall, practically falling off onto the ground as his muscles burned. His face was drenched with sweat as he gasped for air.

Cardin landed down beside him, looking no worse for wear. He cast him a curious look before jogging off to the next obstacle.

"Recruit Arc, are you a girl? Because this is shameful. Actual girls are here and are doing better than you!" growled the instructor, kneeling down as Jaune struggled to push himself off the ground.

That was a lie as half of the recruits lay wasted throughout the course. Only a few like Cardin and his friends, and Amber somehow, were still going.

"I'm going to be frank, Arc. I don't like you," stated the instructor, looming over him.

"You are weak. You are nothing. And you will amount to nothing more than a statistic in a book for some politician to boast about. Give up."

He oh so wanted to do just that. His muscles burned.

The whole division had been doing this for two hours. He felt like death after the first half-hour, but for some crazy stupid reason he managed to push through.

"Please," he whimpered. "No more…" he begged.

The instructor snarled in disgust.
"PT is over!" he shouted "And what I have seen from you sorry fucks is disgusting."

Everyone was too pummeled and demoralized as it was to feel upset at the verbal lashing.

Cardin and Amber both slowed to a stop, breathing deeply but otherwise feeling fit and energetic still. How? What sort of drugs were they on?! Jaune idly wondered.

Unfortunately, the instructor decided to focus his attention on them. Jaune didn't care. Better them than him.

"Except for you five. You can keep running."

Russel and Sky groaned while Cardin and Dove both cursed under their breath. Amber was much more vocal.

"Excuse me?! That's bullshit! We just ran as much as them!" she protested, leaning over her knees as she panted.

"Recruit Amber, are you challenging me? YOU ARE HEREBY ON LATRINE DUTY FOR THE DURATION OF THIS TRAINING COURSE. You will report to me at 1630 hours with a mop and bucket. Do I make myself clear!"

Amber looked mortified; as if she had just been forced to swallow something bitter.

"I-wha-but-…" her protests went ignored.

"As for why," continued the instructor, "I know Huntsmen candidates when I see them. It's clear you lot have your Aura already awakened, therefore it will take a lot more to push you to the physical extremes. Now repeat this course with another two laps. You have one hour."

Jaune was really glad he wasn't them right now. It took every single one of them two hours to do two runs of the course and laps of the perimeter.

"Man, this is such bullshit," groaned Russel as he tried to catch his breath.

"Make that three laps now," the instructor narrowed his eyes.

Russel shrunk within himself as he felt the sour glares of the remaining Huntsmen candidates.

"Now, while they continue their fun, you lot will report to medical to have your results compiled. You will be issued a personal scroll there containing all of your records, results and assessments. Do not abuse this privilege. I catch anyone using the scrolls outside of their assigned purposes and I will shove it so far up your ass you will be choking on it."

The look he was giving everyone that remained was one which promised pain if anyone dared to do anything remotely off-script.

Jaune didn't care. A chance to rest and be treated for all of his pain and suffering at the medical wing sound like heaven. Only a nice shower and bed would be even better.

The visit to the medical wing was conducted after they were instructed to take another shower. The doctor was not some hot nurse chick like he wanted to envision. Instead it was some cantankerous old man who seemed to hate life and everything about it.

Hipocritic oath more like, Jaune winced as he held his arm tenderly, feeling sore from where needles had been inserted.

He had, like everyone else, been assigned a small military-grade scroll with which they could access and review personal scores and results.

By military-grade, however, it meant absolute obsolete dog-shit. What he had envisioned was some high-tech state of the art new modern scroll with a bazillion advanced features integrated.

Instead, he was given some ancient relic from ten years ago which was so worn and beat up it looked more fit as a cudgel rather than as an actual electronic device. It seemed as useless as one too.

His physical score and fitness had been measured from the PT course. The results were average, which was simultaneously both more and less than he had initially expected.

The fact he scored only 67% left him feeling inadequate, especially considering the division average was 84%. However, the fact he had passed at all and endured for over two hours straight of intense hell was amazing in his eyes.

Working out does pay off, he acknowledged. He always knew it, but to see the results in real-time was a good morale boost for him.
As he looked through the scroll he saw there were several more scores and tests yet to calculated yet he realized.

Weapons proficiency, scheduled for tomorrow. And an intelligence and aptitude test, scheduled for later this afternoon.

It took everything to remain calm.

"Relax. They don't expect you to excel at it. Just pass it." That much was true. At least, he hoped.

That's what the broker had told him anyways, he wouldn't lie to him just like that. Right? Right?!

The rest of the afternoon was spent being instructed on the one and only way to fold and make a bed and being screamed at for it not being as tight as the instructor was clearly wound.

And then came the big moment.

The test.

One hour to answer 75 multiple-choice questions and 10 written answers.

The questions seemed anything but simple, and by the time he walked out of the room with the other recruits he felt more fried than when he did PT.

Their results would be graded and sent by the end of the week as apparently they weren't the only division being trained and there was professional team of examiners who would grade their results.

Those results would determine what they fields and service-branches they could go to after completing basic training and assessment.

There was a final exam that would cement their available opportunities the Instructor explained. A written test, a physical test assessing their abilities as individual soldiers, and a team exercise. And that was the extent of their knowledge until then.

After that was passed, then it was off to apply to Officer's School. And then a nice safe and cushy job away from all the scary war.

Of course, first he had to endure the scary instructor at 1800 hours. Punishment would only be exacerbated if he tried to skip it or show up late.

After receiving a verbal lashing alongside Cardin and being surprisingly let off with just a warning, he found himself headed to the barracks with the other recruits who were now mingling, preparing for bed, or even outright sleeping.

Jaune felt drained as he shuffled into the barracks like a zombie, with Cardin on his heels with a haunted look about him.

Instantly Dove and Russel were upon them.

"You guys made it! Thought you were goners, considering how pissed the instructor seemed."

Jaune and Cardin shared a glance.

"Nah, we got lucky," recounted Cardin with a relieved expression.

"Really?" asked Sky, walking over.

Jaune nodded alongside Cardin at his friends questioning look.

"Anyway, the night is ours until lights out in an hour."

Cardin approached a bed adjacent to the one that Russel was sitting on.

Dove and Sky were sitting on the ground in pyjama shorts and a white T-shirt each.

Jaune took a seat next to them on the ground.

They seemed like decent people, he thought as they began to chat.

Said chatting lasted barely a minute before the barracks doors exploded open with a loud bang. Amber stormed in with a scrunched up face.

She looked positively angry. So did the other recruits, especially the ones that were already sleeping. Or rather, had been sleeping. They certainly weren't now.

Her eyes seemed to search everyone until they landed on Jaune and his new friends.

As she approached, she instantly began to rant.

"I cannot believe that guy."

Cardin raised an eyebrow in question.

"Well you better. He's our boss until deployment."

Amber sat down right with them, and right next to Jaune. He instantly felt more self-conscious as her shoulders brushed up against his.

"Yeah, but he doesn't need to be so mean all the time. He speaks to us like trash."

Russel yawned.

"I mean, what do you expect? We're in the army now. They want to break us down so they can build us all up into the perfect little soldiers," he explained nonchalantly.

"He made me clean the toilets for two hours straight," she whined pathetically before suddenly exploding.

"For TWO HOURS! They were already freaking clean when I entered there! What was there to clean?!"

Jaune couldn't help but feel his heart pounding against his chest as this undeniably attractive woman was seated next to him.

She looked around before suddenly meeting his eyes. He felt himself blush for some reason.

"Oh, hey. You're the lady-killer right? Jaune Arc right?"

She remembered his name?

"Y-yeah. That's me."

She grinned mischievously. "Short, sweet and rolls of the tongue. The ladies love it?" she recited, enjoying his flustered expression at being suddenly confronted.

"Yeah. That's me!" he forced himself to nod, injecting as much confidence into a smile that seemed way too forced.

C'mon, it's all about confidence. That's what girls want! At least, that was what his dad told him.

Amber giggled.

"Man, you're funny," she said before turning to face everyone else.

"So you guys all friends or something? How'd you met?"

Sky shrugged. "We all knew each other before signing up. Figured it'd be easier doing it together, though we all have our own reasons."

"Except for me," added Jaune. "I just met them today."

"Really? So, what's your reasoning for joining?" she looked around at them expectantly. Silence greeted her before Dove decided to answer first.

"A lot of people were killed the other day after that gods-awful attack. It makes me sick to think that the perpetrators are out there, not being held accountable. I joined because I saw this as the best bet to avenge these people."

Russel snorted. "So, revenge?"

Dove shook his head.

"Not revenge, justice."

Russel snorted. "Same thing. Me, personally? Got nowhere else to go. And I enjoy a good scrap. Figured I might as well join the Army. Solves the two issues."

Sky rolled his eyes.

"Yes, we all know how simple you are," he drawled. Russel narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, enlighten me then. What are your oh-so noble reasons then?"

Sky offered a smug smile.

"I joined because Cardin joined. Where he goes, I go."

Russel stared at him with an unimpressed expression.

"Really? That's it? Well, you're a boring cunt. Living a meaningless life without purpose and letting others dictate your actions."

Jaune went wide-eyed at the word while Sky did a spit-take.

"I am NOT boring. Following your friend is hardly meaningless. It is a sign of great respect and loyalty. Comradery! You uncivilized ape!"

Russel's response was to slowly flip the bird, all while grinning at having riled the other young man up.

Sky returned the favour with both fingers.

Before things could escalate, Cardin interrupted.

"What's your reasoning Amber?"

"Oh, me? I'm here because I wanted to experience something different."

"Different?" inquired Jaune. "What do you mean."

She looked a little uncomfortable, hugging her arm slightly.

"Ah, well, you see, I've spent a lot of time on the road mostly by myself. I say mostly because there a couple people that try to look after me, but they always tell me what to do and police my every actions. Where I go, what I do, how I do it."

Jaune felt oddly sympathetic to her plight. It reminded him of home. His parents meant well, but living at home with your parents also meant that you had to live life how they saw fit.

"I just couldn't stand the control anymore, so I one night I slipped away from the guy that was following me. I managed to finally lose him, and after a few days, here I am." She ended with a more happy voice, a smile plastering her face.

"So let me get this straight," frowned Sky with a raised eyebrow, unimpressed.

"You led a life where you were controlled in every facet and had no free will." She nodded and he continued.

"And you decided that the best thing to do was join the Army."

"Yup."

"Where your every action is policed and dictated to just as heavily, if not more."

"Uh, yes?"

"Where you are contractually obligated to be an obedient yes-man to a higher authority."

"…yeah…"

"… and Russel say's I'm directionless. You're even worse!"

Amber flushed.

"H-hey! It's my choice to join! That's why I signed up. Because I wanted to. Not because some other guy was telling me to."

Russel shook his head.

"Yeah, but you're still essentially giving your life to someone else to decide and do with as they want."

"…I suppose," she conceded. "But it's my life at the end of the day. I'm doing this because I want to!"

There was silence before Sky waved her off.

"Eh, whatever. You do you." She pouted at his words before addressing Cardin.

"What about you big guy? You've been silent and brooding here this whole time. What's your story?"

"I'm here because I want to kill them, plain and simple. Every single one of those filthy, fucking, animals," Cardin answered coldly.

Jaune and Amber went wide-eyed, sharing a surprised look.

"Woah, that's a little… extreme. Isn't it?" asked Jaune. Cardin's eyes remained fixated in rage.

"I mean, there's probably good faunus, right?"

Cardin's eyes snapped up to meet his, and instantly Jaune felt like a mouse staring down a lion.

"Good faunus? There's no such thing."

Jaune felt uncomfortable at that. Surely not every faunus was bad, right? There had to be some that were against this war, right?

"My sister was in Vale when those fuckers detonated that bomb. When I found out I rushed down there immediately. Do you know what it's like?" he sneered.

"To feel the existential dread and horror as you realise the person you care about was brutally murdered?"

Jaune mmediately had visions of his family dying, but even still, he acknowledged it was incomparable to the real deal. To actually having your family ripped from you.

"I- no… –" "That's right. You don't know. I carried her out of the rubble, her skin all peeled off and bleeding from intensive burns. The nearest hospital was on the other side of the city as the rest were all destroyed. And when I got there, they refused. They said she was too far gone and that they wouldn't waste time and resources on someone like her when others could be guaranteed saved."

He stood up and was in Jaune's face.

"She was nine-years old. What sick fuck targets a nine-year old kid?! Why!"

Jaune was paralyzed to the spot as Cardin glared at him before he finally retreated and sat back down.

"She died in my arms, unable to see or hear her big brother because everything had been burnt off. So when I say I'm going to kill them, I mean it. So don't lecture me about there being good faunus. If there was, then why did they let this happen? It takes more than just one person to smuggle a bomb like that in and set it off. As far as I'm concerned, every single one of those devil-spawn deserves to die."

With his piece said he sat back down, leaving an awkward silence to follow.

"…So…" started Amber as everyone else looked around at each-other awkwardly. "That explains you, I suppose…."

More awkward silence followed. It was becoming unbearable so Jaune decided to ask something unrelated.

"So Amber, the guy you were travelling with. What was he like?"

"Huh, oh him. Yeah, he was a bit of an ass. And always drunk," she shook her head in disgust.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Among other things."

"Ha, like what?" grinned Russel, sensing a juicy story.

"He just would never leave me alone." At their questioning looks, she elaborated. "He always followed me, and every time I thought I'd lose him, he would suddenly appear. Hell, I'd be out in the woods alone. I mean, that's what he preferred. He never liked me being near or even talking to other people."

"Wait, really?" that seemed a little extreme to Jaune.

"Oh yeah," she nodded, suddenly adopting a mocking masculine voice. "Amber, you can't go into towns. Amber, you can't talk to people. Amber, you'll attract too much attention, and we can't have that. Ugh." She rolled her eyes in contrivance.

"The worst part was he always would talk me up like I was a kid. Amber, you're special. Like, even if I'm so special, can't you just let me be?!" She was really getting into her tale by now, gesturing animatedly and with irritated huffs.

"Amber, that's not a chaperone. That's a stalker," deadpanned Sky.

"Wait, how old was this guy?" cut in Cardin suddenly.

"Ah, probably twice my age. He's always kinda followed me since I was a kid."

Jaune and Dove exchanged concerned looks.

"Since you were a kid…? Amber, where were your parents?"

Amber fidgeted. "Oh, they… died in an accident…" she looked uncomfortable. "And that's when he showed up. I'd never even seen him prior to then. He just showed up out of nowhere and took me to see this old guy."

"Amber…?" Jaune didn't like where this was going. None of them did.

She continued.

"He said he wanted to show me something, and told me not to tell anyone else about it."

Everyone looked uncomfortable at the implications.

"Amber, what happened?" asked Dove with a worried tone, his expression anxious.

"Oh, well he took me aside and down to the basement of the building he was in. He said he had a secret to show me. A-as for what, I… I can't say," she finished apologetically.

Oh my god. It clicked for Jaune. It clicked for everyone, and they were all horrified.

"How-how old were you," Cardin asked softly.

"Oh… 14 at the time?"

"You poor girl," he whispered.

Jaune leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her to give her a warm embrace.

She went wide-eyed, tears forming in her eyes as she accepted it.

"You don't have to say anymore. We're here for you," consoled Jaune.

"You guys…" she began, teary-eyed. "I've never had anyone else to talk to. You guys are the first people. My first friends since then…"

That hurt so much to hear her say that.

Her tears were infectious as all of the others began to sniffle. Even Cardin seemed sympathetic.

"I… I feel like a great weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I've never told anyone this. About how I felt. Always alone, with no-one ever there to listen to me. To what I wanted and how I actually felt."

"You don't need to say anymore. We're here for you. Because that's what friends are for," reassured Jaune.

The others nodded slowly.

They pulled away from each other, and Amber was smiling, her eyes ringed red from tears.

"Thanks," she sniffled, wiping her eyes. "I needed that."

"You're very brave for coming forth like that," commended Cardin.

"What was this guy's name?" asked Russel.

"Huh. Oh. Qrow. Qrow Branwen."

The five boys all locked hardened eyes with each-other, including Jaune. No words were spoken, but a silent promise and pact was made.

This Qrow Branwen was going to have some serious bad luck if they ever found him.

Amber looked up at them and caught the strange expression. "Guys…?"

"Don't worry about it," said Cardin, changing topic.

"So, Jaune…" he began.

"Eh? What about me?"

"Well, we were talking about everyone else's motives for signing up. What was yours?"

"Yeah," chorused Sky and Dove.

"O-oh? Me? Eh, well, I suppose I wanted to be a hero, but kinda realized I'm just not… cut out for it."

His application to Beacon had been rejected, and then Vale was bombed.

"At this point I just want to get into Officer School."

Dove nodded.

"Ah. Career ambitions. I can respect that."

More like self-preservation.

"Yeah, I'd just rather not die on the front-lines is all," he laughed.

"Then again, I suppose none of us do. That's why we all joined the Reserves, right?"

Silence greeted him, and his laughter tapered off. He felt like he was suddenly missing something.

"Reserves…?" asked Dove.

"Yeah," Jaune repeated. "The Army Reserves. I signed up so I could become a Logistics and Supply Officer."

A safe and cushy job. That was what he had signed up for right?

"This is the Reserves, right?" he nervously repeated.

The others slowly began to shake their heads and Jaune felt his blood begin to go cold.

"Ah-ha. Ha ha. You guys are funny."

Amber pulled out her issued scroll and pulled up the enlisted service branch.

"No, this is the Active-Duty Pool," she answered, gesturing to the icon and name of the service branch which stated clearly in bold letters: Active Duty.

Jaune felt his face drain of blood.

"A-Active Duty….?"

Yeah," nodded Cardin, reaching for his own issued scroll and showing him the same thing.

Jaune briefly caught a glimpse of his physical score results and they were much higher than his. He paid little heed to that, however, instead focusing on the words Active Duty above Cardin's name.

"I mean, if you check your scroll, you'll know for sure," suggested Dove.

With a sense of urgency, he whipped out his own issued scroll, fumbling around in panic and nearly dropping it as he opened it up.

To his horror, he was greeted with the words he did NOT want to see.

JAUNE ARC – RECRUIT – VSDF ARMY BRANCH – ACTIVE DUTY POOL.

"Ha… Ha?! HA?!"

He panicked.

He was not one to ever curse, but he felt this situation warranted it.

"Fuck… FUCK… FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" He screamed in panic.

While Jaune began to experience a nervous breakdown and panic attack, Sky leaned over to Dove.

"Man, that bombing must have done a real number on his psyche."

Dove shuddered.

"It makes you wonder what sort of monster would even consider doing such a horrible thing. All that death."

Cardin answered gruffly.

"One that is cold, calculated and without any compassion. A beast so ruthless and animalistic that they openly revel in such carnage…."

The two faunus in the room stared at the TV channel with shocked expressions and anxiety.

It blared out a woman reporter covering the absolute carnage in Vale as clean-up crews were shown hosing down fires and ambulances and hospitals were overcrowded with bloodied people and crying children.

Corsac swallowed hard as he glanced over at his stone-faced brother, Fennec. The poor man looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"I thought you said it was only going to be a small bomb…?"

Fennec replied, ashen-faced.

"It was just a car bomb…. That's what he told me when he reported back."

"Brother," hissed Corsac, eyes wide. "A car bomb does not take out half of a fucking city?! It was only ONE human we needed dead to send the message."

Fennec clenched his hands, knuckles white as he stared down at the circular table inside the dimly lit room with an expression akin to wanting to crawl in a hole and die.

"This? This?! This is a rallying cry for the humans."

This was really bad.

"Please tell me that at least he is dead, right?" Corsac whispered finally after a minute of intense silence, only broken up by the still droning reporter.

"Surely," nodded Fennec, and Corsac slowly nodded in relief.

"And how are we going to explain this to the High Leader?" he eventually asked. Fennec rubbed his chin tenderly as he racked his brain for an idea. Something. Anything.

"I mean, Vale isn't exactly innocent of abuse towards Faunus-kind. This tragedy was to be expected?" he offered.

Corsac blinked emptily before sighing.

"I guess we'll just have to downplay this incident."

"Yes…" nodded Fennec slowly. "Ah, I know!"

"Human propaganda?"

"Human propaganda."

The two brothers sighed in relief.

Chapter Text

Arc 1: Chapter 3

"Jaune's been gone a bit," observed Amber. "Is he alright?"

Cardin shrugged as rolled over to be more comfortable in his bed, tucking the sheets closer to him.

"I'm sure he's fine. He's just probably surprised at how quick things move around here. Before we know it, we'll be deployed soon."

Dove called to her warmly, sensing her worry.

"I wouldn't worry about it. Just get some sleep Amber."

With that, the boys went silent as the lights turned off. Amber was left sitting up in her own bed as her mind wandered.

Active Duty Pool?! Surely he misheard, right? The broker he paid for would have never lied to him right? Right?!

The instructor growled irritably. "The Reserves? There are no reserves recruit. ALL branches are now active-duty. Everyone is being mobilized for the war effort."

"B-but, there has to be some mistake?!" he pleaded desperately. He was currently outside the Instructor's personal quarters in nothing but his assigned sleep-wear. It was impossible to get to sleep with the latest bombshell rattling his nerves.

The Instructor growled as he pressed his face dangerously close to Jaune's own, forcing him to take a step back out of his personal quarters.

"There is no mistake. The Reserves no longer exist as is. It's all active duty now, because as you might not realise, someone dropped a gods-damned bomb onto us. Now, get back to sleep."

"E-eh? B-but…?!"

The instructor's glare intensified.

"I don't care, recruit."

Jaune whimpered. "Yes sir," he conceded, only to freeze as he realized what he just said. The instructor's voice was ice.

"What was that, Recruit…?"

Sleep was certainly guaranteed as impossible now….

"What happened to you?" asked Cardin suddenly as he sat down next to him at the cafeteria table with a plate of military gruel/slop. Oats mixed with a serving of vegetables. The only good thing was the small carton of orange juice that the smart ones used to wisely wash everything down with.

Jaune slowly cracked his neck up to face him, and Cardin visibly recoiled in horror at the blonde's gaunt face, dead stare and black-ringed eyes.

"Damn dude, you look like the walking dead," whistled Russel as he joined them.

The five boys and Amber were seated at the same table trying to wolf down their food within their allotted time. It was a big day today.

"Never call the D.I. sir. He absolutely hates it…." He exhaled, sounding like a raspy corpse.

The others stared at him with wide eyes.

"Fucking hell, he really is the real deal…" commented Russel. "To think we have Major Bigby Ballsin as our D.I. is surreal."

"I know," nodded Sky.

"Who cares. I haven't had any sleep," whispered Jaune before letting his face fall into the bowl of oats with a loud splat, sending gruel flying everywhere.

"Oi, dude, watch it!" snapped Cardin as food splashed onto his uniform. He was greeted by the sound of snoring as Jaune passed out.

He shook his head before deciding to address everyone else.

"So, today's the big day," he announced.

"We get to actually shoot today. And we'll get our test results from yesterday."

Amber smirked as she crossed her arms.

"Hah, well. That'll be a piece of cake. I grew up shooting."

Sky stared at her. "I thought you lived alone with… y'know….?" He didn't want to say the words for fear of triggering her. She didn't catch on.

"Eh? Oh, I lived on a farm with my parents before I hit the road. It was kinda necessary to know how to."

"Yeah, but that's with what, a shotgun? When you were a kid? This'll be different," argued Sky.

"It'll be fine," she dismissed with a confident wave.

"Yeah, but have you shot recently?" he pressed.

"Qrow would shoot me all the time. He always left such a mess though with how big his gun was though…" she added with a contemplative look.

Russel and Sky blanched while Dove wanted to vomit.

"Is that, like, an innuendo?" Dove asked, fearful of the answer.

Jaune was about to say something as he came to, but Cardin shook his head, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't, it's probably a coping mechanism for her. Let her be…."

This felt wrong though, he wanted to say. Wisely, he held his tongue while Amber continued oblivious to the others.

She shot them all a strange look.

"Innuendo? What do you mean? Why would I say that? I mean he literally made a mess when he'd go shooting with me. He especially had it out for falcons. And eagles." She placed a thumb under her chin contemplatively.

"Actually, any bird of prey now that I think about it. Called them 'vicious fucking bastards'. I always used to figure it was because of how they would grab field mice," she shuddered.

Guess animal cruelty is something we can add to this guy's resume of bad behavior, Jaune frowned.

Cardin nodded sagely. "Yeah, can't argue with that. Just be grateful you're not a mouse when a cat catches you." It was his turn to shudder. "Those pricks can be the absolute worst."

Amber looked doubtful.

"I dunno. I think they're kinda cute?"

"What, the mouse? Or the cat?"

Amber shrugged. "Why not both?" Cardin's expression said it all as he looked at her like some repulsive alien.

There wasn't much chance to speak further as the barracks doors were thrown open with a loud bang and the Instructor stormed in.

"RECRUITS!" he bellowed, frightening everyone into standing up at attention. The sound of cutlery and bowls being dropped and spilled echoed everywhere as he Devil himself entered the room.

"Breakfast is over! Form up and prepare for your first lesson of the day. Weapon safety. And then the range."

Finally, was everyone's collective thoughts. Time to learn soldiering properly.

"This is the Steyr-96," announced the instructor as he held up a short bull-pup rifle for all of the seated recruits to see. It was blocky hunk of metal with protruding bits and pieces. It looked more like something from a cartoon rather than what Jaune envisioned a combat rifle to look like.

Currently their lesson was taking place inside the study hall. They were arranged in neat rows of single desks and chairs all facing the instructor.

Behind him were a whiteboard and a projector screen displaying schematics of the gun's internal mechanism.

"This is the main staple of the VSDF and it will become your best friend for your entire operational career. You will keep this gun on you at all times. You will eat with it. You will sleep with it. You will shit with it. You will shower with it. And you will keep it operational at times!"

He looked around at everyone, already making note of which recruits he would need to keep a further eye on. His eyes strayed to Jaune for a brief moment and he had to resist every urge to duck his head down.

"This is a modular rifle and comes in four variants. The Steyr-96S, or standard. The Steyr-96C or Compact for close quarters configuration. The Steyr-96M or marksman variant with a longer barrel. And finally, the Styer-96K your squad LMG configuration."

Jaune listened with rapt attention as the instructor explained the ins and outs of the gun and its modularity, including its history. And he quickly started to become lost.

A gun was just a weapon that shoots right? So why was it so complicated!

Apparently, he wasn't the only one becoming lost.

Cardin looked tense as he struggled to follow along. It made Jaune feel a little more comfortable with the fact he wasn't alone.

The instructor explained the ins and outs of different parts and how they functioned. Receivers, bolts, gas systems and more were thrown out.

Jaune glanced at Cardin, and the brown haired boy, catching his confused look, shrugged, mouthing something along the lines of 'I don't fucking know?!'. He got the distinct feeling that Cardin wasn't going to be of any help to him.

Amber seemed to look more at ease, raptly nodding along and taking notes.

He leaned over as inconspicuously as he could to see what she was writing.

"You understand all this?" he whispered.

She nodded. "Hmm-hmm. It's pretty standard stuff, honestly."

"So why are you taking notes then if it's so easy?" he asked, surprised. His surprise turned to shock as Amber shot him a disgusted look.

"What do you mean?" she asked, and it was then he managed to catch a glimpse of her notes.

Or rather, the giant doodle of a unicorn frolicking in the grass fields.

Amber was by no means an artist, let alone a good one.

"Recruit Arc, the only pussy you'll find by searching is your own, now get your eyes back up front and centre," interrupted the Instrcutor with an impatient glare.

Everyone briefly flashed him a pitying look as he was signaled out.

Amber looked embarrassed. Why was he getting called out? She was the one doodling?!

Still, it was best not to test his patience any further.

"Yes drill sergeant!" he called back automatically. He had already learnt that lesson thank you very much.

The instructor narrowed his gaze momentarily before letting the matter go.

"Not only is it capable of being switched into different configurations on the fly, it is also capable of fitting many attachments. Various scopes and collimators, as well as undermount attachments such as lights, lasers, grips and grenade launchers. For now, however, we will be raw-dogging this beast on the range. Ironsights only, and no further attachments."

He eyed everyone with a salty look.

"Before I let any of you chuckle-fucks operate this beautiful weapon, however, we'll now discuss weapon safety. I don't trust any of you morons not to take someone's head off, especially your own."

After a lengthy debrief on what to do, and more importantly what NOT to do it was time to head down to the range.

Jaune looked on in anticipation. High modularity? Multiple configurations? Standardised ammo across all branches for ease of distribution and use? Maybe this gun was way cooler than it looked. A real beast, even!

"This thing is fucking uncomfortable," snarled Cardin as he shifted his grip yet again to accommodate the bull-pup.

They were all on the range in battle fatigues. Their side of it was a large slab of concrete with a tin-frame roof to offer shelter from any rain or excessive sun, with a yellow safety line painted in front of them. In other words, do not cross unless you wanted to dance with live ammunition.

Before them stretched a field to the forest with a massive concrete wall for them to shoot in to. Steel target plates with human torsos drawn onto them were arranged in a uniform line which matched their position under the tin roof.

They were currently leaning over some particle-wood trestle tables that had been assembled as makeshift benches for them.

Spare magazines were allocated to every single one of them, and they had the option of firing standing up or leaning on to the bench if they wanted. Though the instructor made it abundantly clear they would not be permitted to do so. You will stand and shoot because I god-damned said so recruit! Some other poor sap got an earful when asking that question. Everyone else was just glad it wasn't them.

"Maybe you're doing it wrong?" suggested Jaune.

"No, it's just a piece of shit," agreed Dove bitterly as he fiddled with his rifle.

Really?

"Nah, you boys just don't know how to hold a gun," sassed Amber as she shouldered her gun and took aim down the sights at a target on the range.

Cardin, Russel and Dove all glared at her.

"It's all about how you lean into it…" she smiled as she shifted her stance. A second went by as she adjusted her grip and shifted the stock. Another second went by before she adjusted her grip yet again.

By the third time she swore aloud.

"What's the matter," asked Cardin a little too smugly as he watched on.

"This thing keeps shoving into my tit, that's what!" she growled.

It was the magazine jutting out right underneath the stock, bulky thing it was.

Jaune shouldered it and took aim down the range. It took a little to get adjusted to, but this was the first gun he had ever held, let alone fired.

"Now listen up recruits!" roared the instructor as he walked behind them.

"Your weapon is switched to semi-automatic. That means every time you pull the trigger, you will fire a single bullet. You will keep it that way. If any of you go fully automatic, I'll have you discharged so quickly and your ass tossed in the brig so fast your head will spin. And for the love of all that is holy, do not flag your teammate!" he growled as his hand clamped down on the barrel of one of the recruits guns that was coming perilously close to his neighbors leg.

The recruit went stock still as the instructor glared at him.

"Am I understood?"

Everyone nodded and chorused 'yes drill sergeant'.

"Now, take aim at your target and squeeze the trigger."

The recruits did just that, and almost immediately the bark of gunshots could be heard as recruits began to shoot slowly at their targets.

Jaune aimed down the iron-sights, and after controlling his muscles he locked onto the target's head. He squeezed the trigger. The rifle jerked and slammed into his shoulder. He stumbled back a step.

"Ow!" he yelped.

Amber glanced over at him before resuming her shooting.

Looking at his shot, he was way off. The round went way higher, soaring over the targets head and embedding in the concrete wall behind it.

He tried again. He hissed as the recoil slammed into his shoulder, sending is aim askew.

Amber looked over at him again and this time she set her gun down on the table.

"Here, Jaune, you're doing it wrong," she stated, and he glanced up as she approached him.

He lowered the gun, only to be caught off-guard as her hands suddenly grabbed him. His breath hitched as she stood so close to him. He could smell her at this distance.

"Bring it up so the stock is pressed firmly against your shoulder." She helped manually shift his stance and brought the gun up higher into his shoulder. He didn't resist as he felt her hands on him. He instantly felt the difference as the stock pressed more firmly into his arm.

"Remember, you want to have the recoil absorb and flow through you. If it isn't resting firmly up against your shoulder, the recoil will kick your shoulder and throw your aim off. You want it to flow through your shoulder and down to your legs instead."

He nodded slowly.

"It's like martial arts," she explained cheerily. "You don't want to absorb the impact, you want it to flow through you like water and be dispersed through the ground. Otherwise you'll end up on the ground instead."

"Wow," he smiled. That made sense, he supposed. "Uh, thanks Amber."

She smiled, taking a step back. "Anytime."

He resumed firing, and instantly she noticed his shooting improve. He felt and saw the results for himself clearly. There was less kick into his shoulder, and the rounds were more precise. He was hitting very close to the target's head now.

Satisfied, she reached over and picked up her gun, only vaguely hearing the click of a switch shifting.

Did the magazine come loose? She idly wondered. It didn't matter as she grabbed a fresh magazine and inserted it. She racked the charging handle and aimed down the sights.

With a deep breath and exhale, she squeezed the trigger. And was promptly thrown back as all thirty rounds were discharged wildly with such force that she ended up flat on her rear. Her finger remained clenched on the trigger, however, and the rounds soared up through the air in a vicious arc.

All of the other recruits screamed as they dropped to the ground for cover.

In seconds, there was silence, only broken by the tinny echo of the gunfire travelling down the open range like thunder. She was shaking.

"RECRUIT AMBER! WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST SAY!" screamed the instructor as he stormed over. Everyone lay on the ground, shaking as they covered their heads in fear.

"ARE YOU A SPY, OR YOU JUST THAT FUCKING STUPID!"

She glanced up, her face petrified, but he was having none of it. He swiftly hoisted her up by her arm, ripping the gun from her hand.

"I-I… it was an accident. I swear!"

"An accident? Recruit, your stupidity could have damn near killed people right now!"

She shook her head. "No! I swear, I didn't change anything. It was on semi from the start!" she pleaded.

He leaned into her face, his nose almost touching hers. His eyes searched her menacingly.

"If you are lying to me recruit, then I will have your ass locked up. You'll come with me to the office and an investigation will happen. Everyone else, weapons class is finished!"

Just because weapons class was finished didn't mean they could get off scott-free for the day. Military doctrines study, gear repair and more greeted them. And of course. P.T. Always cursed P.T.

By the end of the day, Amber had been released back to them with the conclusion of a faulty weapon. The safety being bumped inadvertently was the cause of blame.

As they sat at the cafeteria table consuming dinner, Cardin scoffed.

"I told you that thing is a piece of shit. Damn near could have killed some people today."

Dove nodded. "Damn near gave me a heart attack!"

"Oh relax," laughed Amber awkwardly. "We have Aura so we'd have been fine!"

Jaune stared at her dumbly. He had heard that term before but it was still lost on him. "Yeah, but not everyone else does," growled Cardin.

"Those stupid guns are so obsolete and outdated," whined Sky. "It's no surprise it's faulty as they say if the safety can just shift from being set down. If anything, it makes it worse!" he slammed his fist into an open palm.

Cardin inclined his head sourly. "Yeah… Give me my mace any day and I'll bash a faunus' head in before they get the chance to shoot me."

Jaune sweat-dropped and his comrades casual homicidal tendencies. "Wouldn't they shoot you before they reached you though…?"

"Nah," Russel shook his head. "We're Huntsmen candidates. We went to the prep schools and have our Aura unlocked. It'd be a piece of cake to close the distance."

Dove scoffed. "Yeah, until the other bastard has Aura. Menagerie was Huntsmen trained troops apparently."

That was curious Jaune noted as he tilted his head. "Wait, really?"

He wasn't an expert on Huntsmen and their capabilities, but he was certain that he had never heard of an academy on Menagerie. Unless that had changed? The answer was that none of the others themselves knew, but it was a real possibility.

"Not that it matters," Cardin dismissed. "They're animals. They don't have much to offer in terms of strength. This attack was just some dumb luck on their part. Once we enter the war, they'll be beat back."

Jaune frowned, as did Amber.

"If it were that easy, then you'd think Atlas and Mistral would have forced them back when the war first broke out all those months ago," she stated. Cardin's response was to scoff and roll his eyes.

"They're just weak. We'll show them how it's really done." He was greeted by uncomfortable silence until Amber's eyes suddenly widened.

"Oh!" she blurted, catching everyone's attention at her outburst.

"Our test results should be back by now."

Within seconds everyone scrambled to open their scrolls. Sure enough, their written test results were up.

Amber squealed. "Yes!"

They crowded over her shoulder in anticipation.

"Woah, what'd you get?"

"Did you score top?"

They all looked at her results, and instantly their excitement died down. She seemed so happy, and yet everyone else couldn't help but be skeptical.

"60%. You literally just passed? How are you this excited?" demanded Russel. She ignored him as her eyes sparkled with excitement.

"I did it! I get to stay in the army now!"

He shook his head, glancing at his own results before letting out a curse as he saw his results.

"FUCK!"

"What? What you get?"

"54%." He spat. Jaune hissed. That didn't sound good.

"Relax," reassured Dove. "It's just a basic test to see where you currently sit for benchmark purposes. They won't kick you out for failing this".

Sky snickered. "Heh. That's what you get for not paying attention during school."

"Oi fuck you!" roared Russel, snapping Sky's scroll from him before looking smug.

"Hah. 59%." Sky flushed. "Er, well, it was a bit hard." He caught the scroll back as Russel tossed it.

"What about you Dove?"

"76%" he stated instantly.

"Bullshit," snarled Sky as he clambered over to see. Cardin nodded in truth as he glanced over at Dove's scroll.

"It's true."

Russel whistled. "Damn, always knew you were the smartest of us." Cardin's eyes snapped straight to him as he wheeled around.

"Excuse me? What the hell are you saying?"

Russel backpedalled. "Er, I mean, he's the smartest of us so far? Hehe?"

Jaune spoke up. "What's your score?"

Cardin went shifty-eyed, looking around.

"I-it doesn't matter," he deflected. It didn't work as Amber swiped his scroll before bursting out laughing. His eyes went wide as he desperately fought to reclaim it. To no avail.

"Hahaha!"

Cardin snatched it back with a sour look, but Amber didn't care.

"51%. Daaaaaaamn broooooo," she laughed, mimicking their voices.

"I take back any sympathy I had for you last night. You're a bitch," he grumbled, but she kept laughing.

"What about you Jaune?" he asked, and all eyes shifted to him.

To be fair, he hadn't even seen his results. Nervously, he opened his scroll and looked for his results.

He whimpered.

The others looked at him curiously before Cardin got up and looked over at his results. He let out an impressed whistle.

"Damn, Jaune. I don't know how to say this, but you're fucked man."

He whimpered harder.

On the scroll, emblazoned clearly were his test results. 1%.

Sky snickered.

"Congratulations on scoring in the top one percent man. Of the other spectrum," he laughed raucously.

"How the fuck do you fail that bad!" he laughed, slamming the table with his fist repeatedly. It was short-lived as Cardin swatted him in the back of the head, causing the silver-haired boy to smack down face-first into the table with a cry of surprise.

"Ignore him," Cardin intoned.

Jaune panicked.

"Oh, this is bad. This is real bad!" Failing the exam meant that he wouldn't be able to get a preferential selection to the Officer's Course. It was bad enough that he was now in the Active Duty Pool and the Reserves didn't even exist. But to be denied a chance into the Officer's school meant he would be kept as a grunt. And grunts got sent to the front to die!

He saw the reports in Mistral and Atlas. It was a slaughterhouse down there! He was too young and handsome to die!

"Snap out of it!" Cardin shook his shoulders.

"It's just one test. It means nothing at the end of the day. It's the final graduating exam which will determine your career path!" he shouted, and in that instance Jaune felt time stop.

Of course! He began to laugh. It was just a simple test. It meant nothing because it was nothing. He still had six weeks to prepare for the final exam, and he would ace that. He was absolutely positive he would!

He smiled giddily as he began to laugh uncontrollably. It was unsettling, so much so that Cardin slowly let go and backed off of the blonde weirdo.

"You're right," he laughed. "Who cares! It's just a silly test, yes. Who cares –"

The barrack doors slammed open.

"What in the actual fuck am I looking at?!" shouted the Instructor as he exploded into the room, radiating fury.

"Are you all stupid or suffering from a major malfunction at the junction?! You sorry sacks of shit must be the dumbest sons of bitches on this Grimm-forsaken world!"

Except the instructor. He cared about the test results.

Test results weren't the only thing he cared about. Come the next day and everyone was marching and doing parade drills. All while the Instructor expressed his growing disappointment with ever harsher criticism.

"You step off with your RIGHT foot, recruit Arc. Have you ever even done drill before?!"

"No drill sergeant!" he replied. It took but a second for his mind to catch up.

You idiot, your records state you went to that military academy!

Fortunately, the instructor seemed to not know. Or care.

He paused his verbal abuse.

"You know what, I believe you recruit. You're god-damned awful at this."

Jaune didn't need to be reminded as he stumbled awkwardly into the recruit in front of him.

He could hear Sky whining under his breath.

"Why do we even have to do this useless shit."

The Instructor heard. He always heard.

"This 'useless shit', recruit Lark is to work on your discipline, listening skills, coordination, and teamwork. If you think we're going to trust the safety of Vale to a bunch of undisciplined condom failures, then you are sorely mistaken. Here in the VSDF we pride ourselves on our discipline. Now shut up and stay in formation."

Sky clamped his mouth shut, only to fumble his footsteps and bump into the person before him, causing a chain reaction as he stopped to correct. The other line of recruits behind him collided into him.

"I said STAY IN FORMATION!" the instructor's screaming continued on for the rest of the day.

"Recruit Russel. What the fuck am I looking at?" The barracks room was silent, and Russel felt the pressure mount upon him as the Instructor loomed tall over him.

It had been several days, and room inspections were routine. So were locker inspections. Everyone was assigned a footlocker for their personal items. VSDF approved personal items of course, but it was their own possessions at the end of the day. Even if said possessions included their scroll, uniform, PT clothes and hygiene products.

"Sir…?" Russel asked, visibly sweating and nervous.

Jaune winced silently, grateful that it wasn't him earning the Instructor's ire right now.

"I AM DRILL SERGEANT YOU TAILLESS APE!" he leaned forward, and it half looked as if he wanted to strangle Russel. He probably genuinely wanted to too, but he refrained from doing so. Instead, he ducked down and grabbed the footlocker in its entirety and flipped it onto its side. The contents inside spilled onto the floor in an unorganized and disgraceful heap.

"AND THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE, RECRUIT!" he continued to scream. Russel went wide-eyed, losing any bravado as the Instructor tore a strip into him.

"You have been told to keep your personal footlocker LOCKED! That's what the lock in foot-LOCKER means!" There was silence as the Instructor stared intensely into Russel's soul, ready to rip it clean out at the slightest hint of anything.

"Well? ANSWER ME! WHY IS YOUR LOCKER NOT LOCKED?!"

"Drill Sergeant I have no excuse…" he feebly replied.

"No excuse?! You mean to tell me that you just don't care if your locker is left accessible to everyone?!"

Everyone squirmed uncomfortably. Even if it wasn't directed at them, they could feel the intent.

"Then you certainly won't mind sharing what's in, right?!"

He didn't wait for Russel's permission. He just started to rummage and pull items up, angrily inspecting them before tossing them around all over the barracks.

Russel grimaced when the Instructor wasn't looking.

This continued for several seconds, the occasional angry lecture roaring from the D.I., until he suddenly paused, going stock-still.

Russel snuck a glance over to him before his face fell, mouthing a curse. Instructor Ballsin slowly turned around, like a possessed demon in a horror movie giving its terrifying reveal. Only this demon was real, and infinitely more terrifying.

In his hand for all to see was a bag of white powder. Small and unobtrusive. But clear and plain as day for all to see and guess what it was.

"Recruit Russel. I'm going to ask you one time only, and if I hear a single bullshit excuse or lie come from your mouth, I won't court-martial you. I will personally line you up against the sandbags out the back and shoot you myself. What. The fuck. Am I looking at, Recruit…."

Cardin sent a glare Russel's way, who himself looked like he was about to shit bricks.

"Uh, my medica- " "One chance, recruit!" he warned. Russel clamped shut, before finally conceding in defeat.

"Uh, drugs, Drill Sergeant."

He stared at Russel silently for what seemed like forever. The silence was agonizing. After what seemed like a bit, the errant thought crossed some peoples mind that maybe Ballsin would not have a meltdown…?

"YOU ARE FUCKED RIGHT NOW RECRUIT! I WILL HAVE YOUR ASS ON A PLATE FOR SUNDAY DINNER SO HELP ME GODS!"

Or not.

Jaune winced as Russel was eaten alive, metaphorically speaking, before being dragged out of the room by his neck.

The screaming could be heard as the D.I. dragged him down the hallway. Everyone began to slowly let their guard down and relax, and Jaune couldn't help but note something.

"For an older guy, he sure is strong." It took a lot of strength to drag a full human being down the hallway by their neck with one hand.

Cardin shot him a withering glare.

"It's not like he'd want to resist. I swear if he makes it out of here alive, I'm going to tear his ass apart myself."

By some divine miracle Russel was returned to them the next day, though he had a haunted look about him. There would be no charges pressed against him, though that was mainly because Vale wanted as many soldiers as possible. Penalising a Huntsman candidate was hardly worth the hassle, so he was let off with a severe warning and punishment at the Instructor's discretion.

That wasn't the only smoking he received as Cardin tore a strip into him for being stupid, and the whole barracks got to hear an earful from him about it.

The rest of the first week passed by at breakneck speed as they spent every waking minute learning to be a soldier.

So they trained, and it was as they were arriving at the firing range with their weapons (unloaded of course) in hand when the instructor snapped his gaze towards Cardin suddenly.

"Recruit Winchester. What the fuck is that?"

Cardin kept his chin held up high, and everyone began to subtly pay attention to what was sure to be an ass-smoking. The key word being subtle, as the instructor did not appreciate it if you were distracted by his chewing out and fell lax on your own duties. Otherwise another grilling would follow.

"Drill Sergeant, this is my weapon," he announced firmly.

The instructor pushed through the recruits, uncaring of who was in his way. All he cared about was getting in Cardin's face.

He towered over the boy, and that was saying something as Cardin was a solid-sized young man himself.

"Recruit Winchester. This is not an approved weapon," he began lowly.

"Drill Sergeant, as Huntsman candidate, it is my weapon that I have trained with for most of my life. One I have greater proficiency in."

Jaune wasn't the only one felt their heart drop as the instructor stood stock still.

"Recruit Winchester. Are you suggesting that you know better than me?"

Cardin remained impassive as he stood at attention. He wasn't even given the chance to open his mouth before the DI exploded.

"Are you cognitively compromised?! This is a FIRING range for you RIFLE! That wooden stick is not a firearm! And even if it were, I did not approve its use! I TOLD YOU TO SURRENDER IT ON THE FIRST DAY! WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN KEEPING IT?! DO YOU TAKE ME FOR A FUCKING FOOL?!"

He snatched it out of Cardin's hands as he screamed.

"YOU ARE NOT A HUNTSMAN! YOU AREN'T EVEN A CANDIDATE! IF YOU WERE, YOU WOULD BE AT BEACON ACADEMY INSTEAD OF HERE!"

Jaune had to concede it was technically true what he was saying.

"You are now a member of the Vale Self-Defense Force Army! You are a soldier! Not a Huntsman! GET THIS THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULL!"

Russel tried to hold back the tickle in the back of his throat, letting out an imperceptible small cough. Imperceptible to most, but to the instructor's keen ears it was a challenge.

He spun so fast onto the poor guy and launched Cardin's mace at full force towards his head!

"Do you have something to contribute you little mosquito!?"

Russel might have been a Huntsman candidate, and he might have had aura, but there was no way he anticipated the sheer strength of the instructor's throw.

Cardin's mace smashed into his head and sent him flying to the ground with a stunned stupor.

Everyone wisely backed up a few paces as the instructor stormed over to his new target.

"Do not test my patience, recruit. You might have avoided a courtmartial for your earlier offence, but I have my eyes on you. One more slip up, and you'll be begging for High Command to sentence you to the brig if I get my hands on you. NOW PICK YOURSELF UP RECRUIT!"

Jaune winced as the Instructor continued making the rounds, ultimately confiscating Cardin's mace and forcing the man through P.T. hell that had even the huntsman candidate gasping for air and crawling.

This continued all the way through to the second week, and by the end of it everyone felt like a changed man. Or woman. And not necessarily for the better.

The Army was a harrowing experience for many, having only just come in from civilian lives. Even Huntsmen candidates were not spared.

It was the end of the day and everyone was getting seated in the main training building when the instructor marched in.

Jaune sat down next to Amber. Cardin and his group were not far, though he seemed a little peeved.

"Recruits. You have completed the second week of basic. While I personally think every one of you abominations should be kicked out or in the brig with the paltry displays I have born witness to," there were a few agitated scowls sent his way which he ignored. "My superiors are under the opinion that you are ready to progress to Stage 2 of your training. This Monday you will be splitting into teams of six, where you will elect your own leader. We will be conducting an outdoors survival training exercise intended to last three days."

There was a round a murmurs as people began to look at each other.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" everyone instantly shut up.

"You will be training in full gear and will be given an objective to complete in the allotted time."

He leveled a dark glare at all of them.

"Do not fail this objective. To prepare you for this, we will be conducting preparatory training and assessment over the weekend to get you up to standards. I'm sure you will all continue to disappoint me. That is all. You are dismissed for the night."

With that, the Instructor left, leaving everyone dead silent before an uproar of gossip and chatter ensued.

Naturally, Amber and Jaune gravitated towards Cardin and his group as that was who they were the most familiar with.

Cardin seemed to be in his element as he boasted to his three friends.

"This'll be a piece of cake. I used to do camping when I was younger."

Jaune couldn't help but pipe in.

"Oh, actually so did I," he added. While his dad might have been a Huntsman, that didn't mean he couldn't spend time with his family. And while the man certainly didn't exactly care to teach him how to be a Huntsman, he did think it was pertinent everyone in the family knew the basics of outdoor survival. Even if his sisters, spoiled as they were, delegated him with all the hard work and chores such as wood-gathering, tent setup, starting the fire, cleaning, fresh-water gathering, carrying the supplies and… actually they dumped everything on him now that he thought about it.

But all that meant was he had even more experience with the outdoors! With his help, this would prove to be a piece of cake, like Cardin suggested.

"Yeah, Jaune, let's get a couple things clear. Okay?" Cardin's tone caught him off by surprise, and he couldn't help but stare at him. "…okay?"

"You see, I have experience with camping." Cardin explained slowly.

"But so do I?" Cardin sent him a glare.

"Yeah, but these are also my teammates," he continued, and the three other boys nodded.

"And what this means is that I am actually the best option for a team-leader here."

Jaune was confused. What did any of this have to do with their exercise on Monday?

"Um, okay, but all I was saying was –" "Jaune, you don't get it. Do you."

Jaune clamped shut as Cardin loomed in front of him, the larger boy getting in his face.

"This is a team exercise. And the Instructor made it clear we are to elect a team-leader."

Jaune nodded slowly. "Yeah, and –" "As the person with seniority here, and by virtue of being looked up to," he gestured with his shoulder again to the three other boys. "That makes me the best candidate for team-leader."

Was… was Cardin seeing him as competition?

"There's a pecking order here, Jaune. And you're not at the top."

Jaune's skin bristled. He did not like where this conversation was going. Thankfully, he was not the only one as Amber stepped up behind him.

"Well, considering your list of infractions with the DI, that would hardly make you a qualifier for top spot then either," she pointed out casually.

Cardin shot her a warning glare.

"The same can be said to you, but it's not the list of infractions. Rather, it's the skillset. And I would just like to remind Jaune here that he's still not up to speed with everything he needs to be."

Amber stepped closer.

"And that's fine. We're all recruits here. So relax," she suddenly smiled.

"We've got all weekend to work this out for team dynamics. There'll be plenty of time to sort that stuff out, and for us to improve in our individual areas. Right Jaune?" She turned to him.

Feeling all eyes on him, he nodded.

"Yeah," he answered.

Cardin watched him intently for a second before stepping back.

"Whatever. I'm just saying. I wasn't trying to come off like anything. I just want us to succeed."

Amber nodded disarmingly. "And we will. Right everyone?" she glanced at everyone in their group.

There were a round of nods and agreements voiced.

"See? Let's just focus on one thing at a time then."

Somehow, Jaune got the distinct feeling that this wouldn't be the end of this conversation as he looked at Cardin. The brown-haired huntsman candidate had his back turned to him, engaging in conversation with Sky and Russel now.

He frowned, but there was no point in stressing over this. Cardin was probably stressed too. Besides, he had his own things to worry about.

Four weeks, Jaune reminded himself.

Just four weeks till graduation and then I'm set.

Chapter Text

Arc 1: Chapter 4

It was still dark come Monday morning as Jaune and his teammates adorned their combat uniform, complete with Kevlar vests, ammo webbing, backpacks, ammo, helmet and of course… their beloved Styer-96.

There was more equipment of course, including camelbacks, rations, collapsible stretchers, emergency rope. All of it heavy. All of it unwieldy.

Jaune felt like one of those kids bundled up too tightly by an overprotective mother during the heart of winter.

Bogged down and incapable of moving.

Currently, they were all assembled at the edge of the Forever Falls, having taken an Army truck for an hour-long drive.

They weren't the only ones.

Five more teams, each having taken a separate truck, had followed in the convoy.

Upon disembarking they were ordered to form up as the Instructor moved to the front.

Illuminated by the numerous headlights, he commanded the centre of attention as he belayed the final instructions of the assessment.

"Your mission objective, for each squad, is to deliver these supply boxes through the forest to an assigned location. Each squad will be in competition with the other, with first place getting the upcoming weekend off to enter the city and enjoy some R . Last place will be permanently assigned latrine and kitchen duty in any and all spare hours for the duration of this course."

Well, that was a bit motivating. And also concerning if the way Amber and Cardin seemed to suddenly look at everyone else with hostility. The feeling was mutual as all of the other teams seemed to close into themselves. Like a turtle seeking safety inside its shell. Though with the venomous looks being sent their way and to others, a snapping turtle would be more appropriate it would seem, Jaune noted.

"Remember. Even though you are competing, you are still allies. I expect nothing less than professionalism amongst you all." He eyed them skeptically, and a few straightened up under his scrutiny. No doubt they had ideas of sabotaging the other teams to ensure their victory Jaune thought. It wouldn't have surprised him.

"You each are equipped with gear totaling 24 kilograms, including your rifle. You will finish the course with this same weight. Any supplies you use must be replenished. If your gear weighs less come the end of the course, your whole team will receive an automatic failure."

That sounded painful. And stupid. Part of their weight involved water and food, and even though it was still a small portion of their total weight, considering they couldn't touch the rest then that meant they would have to be frugal with their supplies.

We'll need to eat food off the land, and gather clean water, he thought.

That meant their best bet was likely to stick near a source of water, like a river.

"This course is timed. You will have 72 hours to make it to your destination. Use the lessons taught to you and work together. Remember. You're soldiers. Soldiers work together, because only through relying on each other can you achieve victory."

With his speech finished, that left all of the recruits to look at the maps being handed out, and then start grabbing the supply boxes.

Each team was assigned four boxes; large sealed wooden crates stamped with the word AMMO.

The other recruits were quick to set themselves to work grabbing the crates and leaving for the forest en masse.

Only, Jaune's team immediately encountered their first problem.

"Holy fuck these are heavy!" exclaimed Sky, struggling to lift one over his shoulder, but ultimately failing.

"Don't be such a pussy," admonished Cardin with a withering look. He tilted one of the crates up and began to hoist it up. His face went red, and his muscles bulged as he lifted. Only to set it back down with a large gasp.

"Okay. Maybe… maybe you're right. These are heavy."

"See?" Sky received a glare from Cardin in return for his sass.

"We'll need to split these between us," he said, looking at everyone expectantly.

There was no argument there. It was a team exercise after all. Everyone had to pull their weight. The problem was that there were four crates and six people.

Two people were going to have to carry an extra crate between them, and a cursory glance revealed that each crate had the words 100kg stamped neatly on them at the bottom.

400 kg of weight, plus the 24 extra kilograms each person had to carry.

Jaune grimaced as he joined Amber in trying to lift one.

Together, it was certainly easier, but even he could feel the strain in his muscles.

For now it was tolerable. But to keep this up all day? Let alone for three days? This was going to be torturous.

"Where even do we need to go?" Amber asked Cardin, bringing up the important question.

The other teams had already finished looking at their maps. Cardin opened theirs up fully for everyone to gather around.

It was a map of the Forever Falls, with the city of Vale to their west, and the sea to their north.

They were on the south-eastern outskirts of the forest, and their destination lay to the far north-west. A couple of rivers could be seen snaking their way along, with one almost leading right to their destination.

"It's simple," stated Cardin, his finger tracing the maps as he articulated his plan.

"We'll follow this river straight to our drop-off point. That way not only will we avoid getting lost or having to deal with difficult terrain, but we'll stay within our weight limit considering the fresh-water available for us."

Everyone was quick to nod along and agree. Except Jaune.

"Um, doesn't that seem a little too easy though?"

Cardin shot him a strange look.

"Too easy? What are you babbling on about?"

Jaune couldn't help but frown.

"Well, it's just that everyone is going to be taking that route."

Cardin blinked before blurting out.

"Well, yeah. Because it's the most logical route? Why would we not take it?"

When put like that, Jaune could see the logic and began to doubt himself. But, he just couldn't help but get the feeling that something was amiss on the map.

"I know it seems like that, and I agree. But that looks like pretty dense terrain. Those crates are heavy and we'll be stuck trying to navigate that mess. If we take more to the west we can cut a nice arc around all of that and make up for it with a steadier pace."

Yeah, there was no river to follow, but was it really essential to the plan?

Cardin shook his head.

"It'll take too long. We'd have to circumvent nearly half of the forest."

Amber watched silently as the two bickered.

"Yeah, but there's another factor you have to consider," pointed out Jaune.

"We might not be able to shuttle-run it like the train you are suggesting. If the terrain is too difficult, we'd have to stick to one crate per two people so that way we can keep a hand free to climb any obstacles."

There was no guarantee they could simply go around something without wasting further time, at which point they may as well simply take the longer detour he was suggesting.

Cardin didn't seem to want to have any of it, however.

"Well, then, Jauney-boy. Seeing as you have such a keen sense of observation, why don't you lead by example and help Amber out with the two ammo crates instead."

Amber spun on Cardin.

"Oh c'mon! That's hardly fair, Cardin."

He shrugged. "Well, I'm just saying."

Jaune shook his head at Amber.

"It's fine. We'd have to take turns and do it eventually. Might as well get it started and over and done with."

Amber couldn't help but frown. "If you say so."

He smiled warmly at her, his face brimming with confidence. She couldn't help but feel suddenly self-conscious.

"Hey, we're friends, aren't we? That's what we do!"

He considered her a friend? Now she was feeling all tingly.

A friend. She tasted the words in her mind. Of course everyone else in their little squad was technically a friend of hers, but it still felt so impersonal.

The way he phrased it though? It made her feel valued. Like she belonged.

A friend… I'd like that…

"Uh, Amber? You're kinda weirding me out?" Jaune stammered suddenly, and only then did she realise she had been staring at him unblinkingly for nearly a full minute.

She ducked her head. How embarrassing.

Cardin let out a grunt.

"Well, then, if you're done? Let's get a move on. The other teams have already left."

True to his word, they were the only team left in sight now. Only the Instructor remained, leaning up against the hood of one of the trucks with a clipboard in his hand.

The slow scratch of a pen lining something out could be heard as he made eye-contact with them all.

Scary, were their collective thoughts.

Cardin's plan turned out to be more grueling than anticipated.

They had truly underestimated how thick the brush was, nor how hilly and rocky the terrain was.

The single shuttle line Cardin had originally hoped for proved to not be viable at all as everyone needed a free hand to help pull and push themselves along the rocks, trees and small cliffs while hauling a crate weighing more than they did.

It wasn't massive hills and ditches, but they large enough obstacles that made travel nearly impossible. Especially when carrying 100kg crates between two people. The Instructor must have really hated this batch of recruits Jaune thought bitterly as he and Amber brought their two crates over the top of the small cliff. There was no going around it. Only through it.

The advantages of being a Huntsman candidate were pretty apparent as everyone else seemed to possess freakish endurance and strength, but even then Jaune could see their struggles. It was hard work.

As for Jaune? He felt physically taxed like he had never been before. Every muscle in his body screamed for him to stop, but he refused. He couldn't let his teammates down.

By midday they finally reached the river, the sound of flowing water being music to their ears.

The ground was certainly a lot more even, but even then it was a massive chore to navigate safely. Unless one wanted to wade in the river which rushed by with a ferocious roar. The rapids were certainly intense.

Russel dove for a drink like a mad dog but had to be reeled in by Dove, citing it wasn't safe to drink random water.

"Flowing water is perfectly safe," explained Jaune, reaching for his aqua filter, a small strawlike tube with a built in filter to allow direct siphoning of the water.

"But if you want to avoid any surface gunk, you can still use these," he offered. Dove appeared skeptical until Cardin nodded.

"He's right. The water won't kill you if it's moving like this. Doesn't allow for anything to settle and grow." He sounded slightly annoyed by the fact that he was agreeing with Jaune, but he didn't care. There were bigger things to worry about.

Sky and Dove set their crate down, panting.

"How far are we? We nearly there?"

"Not even close," Cardin deadpanned, fishing out the map in his pocket.

Sky nodded quickly. "Yes yes, I get that. But surely we've made some decent progress. Like, are we a quarter of the way there yet?"

Cardin shook his head slowly.

"A fifth?" Sky offered. He received an even more sombre headshake.

"A sixth? A seventh?!"

All answers were no.

"FUUUUUCK!" He screamed in despair, clutching his head.

Cardin put the map away, sending Jaune a look.

"Yeah, well we'd be making better progress if we didn't have to slow down and stop every five minutes so you two can play catch-up," he accused Jaune and Amber.

"Hey, cut us some slack!" Amber jumped up.

"We're carrying two of those things!"

Cardin sighed, taking a handful of water from the river into his mouth directly.

"I suppose. We'll need to rotate out now anyways. We'll rest for a couple minutes and then carry on. Dove. You and me will take the two crates for the next part of the march. Give these two some rest."

Jaune wanted to scowl at the clearly derisive tone.

"The terrain sucks," he frowned. "This was why I didn't want us to take the path of the river to begin with. It's much flatter if we went the long way."

Cardin shook his head.

"Yeah, but we can top up our water near the river and follow it directly to the drop-off. The long way might look easier, but we save more time going this way. Besides, we've already made some progress. We're committed now."

Jaune disagreed. It wasn't really a long way so much as an arc that circumvented all of the hills, ravines and rocks. Instead, flat forest and grass which would have been so much easier to carry their supplies would have greeted them. And by that metric they would have made up in time by being able to maintain a steady pace. Instead, any shortcut here was inevitably lost in trying to navigate the terrain. It just wasn't feasible. Not on their schedule.

"Well, you just need to put more muscle into it, Jaune," Cardin countered.

Jaune's response was to scoff as he sat down to refill his water from the river.

As he did so he watched several logs as big around as his torso and as long as a lorry drift by.

So heavy, and yet they float, he idly noticed.

Honestly, he couldn't understand why Cardin was acting the way he was now. These last couple days he seemed so adamant that he wanted to be team-leader, and he wasn't allowing anyone to have a say in any decision making now. If anything, he seemed to actively detest anyone countering his 'orders'. For whatever reason, the others seemed to willingly elect him as the team leader. Well, except Amber. She seemed more impartial.

As for him? Well, he certainly wasn't looking to become a team-leader. He just wanted to pass with a high enough score to graduate and go to officer school.

Though that plan seemed more and more unlikely these days.

Their ten-minute break came to an end, and the group resumed their journey. Though this time it was markedly easier as much more manageable and flatter terrain greeted them. Only now the trees were much more densely packed, forcing them to move slower to navigate in between them.

Still, with Cardin in the lead carrying two crates with Dove, his Huntsmen strength began to show and their pace was somewhat better.

The rest of the day continued with nothing but pain, cursing and an ever-growing number of flies colliding into their sweaty faces.

Every now and then Jaune would watch as a log drifted past them down the river, always speeding by due to the rapid current of the river.

Come dusk they arrived at a small alcove, with a nearby cave only a couple of metres deep. Perfect enough to avoid the elements and take shelter if need be. It was here they decided to make camp.

None of them cared as they crates dropped to the ground with a heavy crash. Their arms were tired. Their feet were blistered. Their legs felt like jelly.

Amber undid the combat vest strapped to her body, letting that too fall to the ground with a moan before falling face first into the dirt.

"Oh my god…" she groaned, her voice muffled by the soil.

Russel and Sky were no better, doing the exact same thing as her.

Cardin and Dove had a little more dignity while Jaune didn't even care to undo his gear and backpack. He just crashed into the ground.

"We have two more days of this?" he asked with a painful groan.

Cardin gave a grunt, having no further energy to do anything more.

Everyone felt their spirits take a collective dip.

"I thought you were Huntsmen," Jaune panted. "Aren't you guys like super-soldiers already?"

Amber hissed while Dove answered, frowning.

"We've been doing this all day since it was dark this morning. Add to the fact we've been carrying half a tonne worth of shit, and I'd say we've been doing pretty good compared to people who didn't go to the preparatory academies."

Jaune suppressed his curse at that. And to think he had once wanted to sign up to be a Huntsman. If this was the crap they were expected to pull off, then he was most woefully underprepared.

"We need a new plan," he finally suggested as he rolled over onto his back, undoing his backpack.

"Like what? Run with those stupid fucking ammo crates? Be realistic Jaune," Cardin shook his head.

"The only way we'll pass this is with hard work. And considering how weak you are compared to us, that kinda holds us back."

Jaune bristled at that. Amber pushed herself up, sending Cardin a foul look.

"We're not ditching Jaune."

Thank you Amber!

Cardin shook his head.

"I'm not saying that."

"Then what are you saying?" she snapped back heatedly.

"I'm saying that compared to us, his strength is kinda underdeveloped. And that puts us at a major disadvantage. We'll be lucky to even get second-last place, let alone pass in time."

Jaune felt shame bubble up within him.

He was fit, sure. But these were Huntsmen candidates. Their physical prowess was far above his. As much as Cardin was irritating, he was speaking nothing but the truth in that moment.

"Oh? And so what is your great suggestion then, Team Leader," she mocked, hands on her hips. Cardin already had an answer.

"We need to continue our march tonight. Pick up the pace and make up for any lost ground we gave the other teams during the day."

Jaune winced at that. Amber looked at him incredulously, and even the others seemed uncomfortable at his suggestion. None were game to challenge him though.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

Except Amber.

"We're absolutely gassed as it is, and you want us to keep pushing ourselves even further in the dark, where we cannot see?!"

Cardin pursed his lips.

"Look, we don't have any other choice. We're barely even a quarter of the way to our destination."

He stood up.

"It's taken us a whole damn day just to get a quarter of the way there. We should be at least a third of the way there, but we're not!"

Amber stood up also, looking him in the eyes as he towered over her.

"Yeah, and if you push us any further like this, we won't even get halfway! We need to rest."

Her mind was made up. But so was Cardin's.

"What does it matter? We'll be gassed tomorrow, same as right now. Three days is an acceptable compromise to achieve victory. We can rest and sleep then."

Jaune couldn't help but intervene.

"Yeah, but we're tired now. Amber's right. If we push anymore, we'll only make ourselves more fatigued."

Cardin glared at him.

"You don't get a say in this. It's because of you we're already behind schedule."

Jaune felt a mixture of anger and shame surge within and he snarled.

"Well excuse me for not agreeing with your brute-force approach all the time. I said right at the beginning that just trekking in like this would slow us down!"

"Well, I didn't hear you bringing any good ideas to the table, Jauney-boy," Cardin sneered, stalking over to the blonde-haired young man.

He instinctively backed up. Cardin was not averse to notice.

"Look at you. You can't even stand up properly. How are you supposed to pull your weight? A leader needs to make a call and act." He regarded Jaune with a disdained look.

Jaune felt the words die on the tip of his tongue. A rebuttal was there, he could feel it. But his mind seemed to fail him as Cardin confronted him.

"If you don't have anything else to say, then maybe sit back down," Cardin commanded upon Jaune's silence.

"How is this Jaune's fault?! You literally made us carry two of those ridiculously heavy crates. Of course we'd be slower!" shouted Amber.

Jaune could only watch as Amber argued with Cardin. Dove tried to speak and offer his own suggestion but was quickly cut down by both. The others seemed hesitant to intervene, and when they were finally confronted they quickly jumped onboard with Cardin's idea.

Satisfied that he held the majority, he smirked victoriously at Amber.

"It's decided. We'll do it my way. We'll have an hour to rest and eat. After that, we're back on our feet."

He strode over to where the makeshift campfire had been assembled.

"With any luck we'll make up for the time lost during the day. The other teams will be busy resting."

You don't know that, Jaune wanted to say. Yes, it was most certainly true. But to definitively say something like it was fact without proof? Even he could see that was going to be a problem for Cardin in the future.

Having had enough, Jaune stood up with his backpack.

"Where are you going?" asked Dove as he brushed past them.

"To the river," he glowered. Dove reached out to Jaune, but he brushed past and went into the darkness.

"Leave him," ordered Cardin.

"Let him cool off. Maybe he'll come to his senses and figure out to pick up his game when he gets back."

Amber's lips thinned as she looked at him incredulously.

"Y'know? You're a real asshole at times Cardin."

With that, she stormed off behind Jaune, leaving him to grimace.

It didn't take long to find Jaune by the river bank. The glow of his torch as he sat hunched over some floating logs pointed him out rather quickly.

Pushing through several thick bushes, she approached him from behind.

He still didn't turn to face her.

"Look, Jaune. It's not your fault at all, okay? I know Cardin's a bit rude, but don't take what he said to heart. We ALL pulled our weight, including you."

There was a moment of silence before Jaune replied, his voice unexpectedly… happy?

"It's okay Amber. I kinda don't really care about that anyways."

O-oh. That was unexpected?

She sat down next to him at the river-bank. He was fiddling with the end of a massive log just floating there. A couple other similarly sized logs were bumped up against it, trapped by the small inlet and the one he was holding.

"Are you… alright Jaune?"

She started to get a little worried. Was he still demoralized? Was this his way of coping; by just masking everything with a veneer of happiness? That seemed a little sad.

She leaned in next to him, ready to put her arm around his shoulder to support him.

That's what friends did, right? Gosh, she was still so nervous about this whole friends thing. What if she screwed up? What if he got upset, or worse, thought she had a crush on him?! What if –

"Amber, how much do you weigh?"

She stopped mid-hug, her arm inches from his back. Her face was frozen in time as she tried to process his words.

Slowly, she retracted her hand, with him being none-the-wiser.

"I'm sorry. I must have misheard. Could you care to repeat that?"

With a dead-serious tone and face as he turned to look at her, he repeated.

"How heavy are you Amber?"

Her eye twitched.

"Jaune, that's not a very nice thing to ask a girl. Especially after I came out all this way to check up on you. Are you sure that's what you want to ask?"

He nodded.

"Quite serious. I need to know how heavy you are. As long as you aren't too heavy, this might just work," he affirmed resolutely. The sheer conviction with which he uttered those words made her brain freeze.

Breathe Amber, breathe.

"Amber? Are you there? You alright?"

She forced a fake smile onto her face.

"Why on Remnant do you want to know that?"

"Because I think I've figured out a way for us to carry all of those crates without having to suffer."

His eyes bore the hallmarks of PTSD.

Like hell was he going to go through two more days of carrying those stupid bloody ammo crates.

Amber almost immediately forgot his perceived insult to her weight as soon as he mentioned the prospect of easy carrying.

Like hell she was going to skip on that.

"Really?! How!" She shook his shoulders roughly. Desperately.

He let out a surprised cry as he felt himself shake like a ragdoll. It was only after screaming for Amber to stop did she finally regain her senses and let him go.

"Sorry," she smiled sheepishly, "it's just you have my hopes up."

"It's fine," he waved off.

"It's just I've been thinking," he gazed out at the logs floating in the water.

"I've noticed these logs floating by today, and they look pretty sturdy."

"I see…" she thumbed her chin contemplatively.

"Yeah, and I also thought back to those collapsible stretchers we all have. They're rated for 150kg each."

Her eyes widened in realization as she began to see what he had planned.

"If we made a frame with them, we'd be able to carry our supplies…."

Jaune smiled bashfully.

"Well, yeah, that's the gist of it."

"And then between all of us, we could carry on a single mass, thus spreading the load."

His smile faltered. "Um, what…?"

Her own enthusiasm faltered when he said that.

"O-oh? Are we not carrying them still?"

He slowly shook his head. "…no…."

"Oh. I see," she narrowed her eyes as she racked her brain for an answer. Her eyes widened in recognition as she thought of what she realized his actual plan must have been.

"We can use it to drag the supplies instead, therefore reducing the weight!"

Jaune couldn't help the beads of sweat running off his forehead.

"No Amber. It's a raft. I… I was suggesting we make a raft…."

"Yes! I knew that! I was just testing you!" she blurted out quickly. Too quickly.

He decided to let it go.

"Anyways, that's why I wanted to know how much you weighed."

"O-oh." This time she actually clued in.

"You want to know if our combined weight would be too much and cause it to sink."

He nodded. "Yeah, basically…" he trailed off as he caught Amber's mad grin.

"You're actually pretty clever," she complimented, and he felt himself taken aback. "Really?"

"Yeah," she nodded before gesturing to the logs. "So, you think it'll work?"

He shrugged.

"Well, there's only one way to find out."

Riiiiiight. Build a raft and hope for the best, she supposed.

It was amazing how quickly some-one's attitude could change, Amber idly mused as she watched Cardin go from berating Jaune for being stupid, to cheering him on as he, and everyone else, realized how much potential his plan actually had to succeed.

So ecstatic was Cardin that he immediately sought to have everyone begin constructing the raft right then and there.

While everyone was miffed at having to spend the next hour using emergency rope and their collapsible stretchers secured to several floating logs, their misery quickly grew into hope as they saw Jaune's plan bear fruit. And she was sure to remind everyone that it was Jaune who came up with the idea.

She didn't know what Cardin's problem was, but it was rather tiresome at this point.

Fortunately, he seemed to be in a good mood as the raft floated there, tethered to a nearby tree.

The crates all safely sat atop of the raft, and while it depressed a little bit into the water, it still floated.

With this, they might just have a chance to pass the course in time…

It was early morning, and Jaune couldn't believe it. Neither could Cardin or any of the others, but somehow, the raft worked. What took them an entire day to cover a measly handful of kilometres, they surpassed by simply riding the current. It was fortunate that the river flowed to the sea and not inland, otherwise they would have instead ended up much further from their target destination in record time.

Using the stocks of their guns for makeshift oars (their Instructor would probably have their heads) they travelled much further and faster at a fraction of the energy required. At this point, they surely must have taken the lead.

How did they know they were surpassing the other teams? Because they literally were.

Resting at the shoreline was one of the teams from the start, and Russel wasted no time in flipping both fingers off to them with his tongue out, while Sky tugged on his crotch, thrusting in their general direction.

The other team could only watch helplessly as they drifted by at record speed.

Insults were hurled at them, but they were now in the lead so it didn't matter, and within seconds the competition became nothing more than a memory.

Dove couldn't help but shake his head at his teammates antics. "You shouldn't be like that," he chastised the two, but it fell on deaf ears.

"Ah, they're losers now, who cares!" exclaimed Russel giddily.

"Still, would it kill you not to be a total dick sometimes?" Dove pleaded.

"Nah, fuck off," he cackled, his laughter echoing throughout the forest.

By the time night was ready to fall on the second day, Cardin pointed out they had travelled three quarters of the way to the drop off.

As they set up camp just slightly inland, their raft and supplies tied to a large tree, Cardin appraised Jaune in a new light.

He slapped him playfully across the back, laughing like they were old buddies.

"You know, you're actually pretty clever Jaune. Can't believe that actually worked."

Jaune flushed at the praise.

"Ah, well, I was just trying to avoid having to carry those god-awful crates. They're heavy," he admitted.

They were currently sitting around an abandoned campsite, using several already established logs as bench seats.

The fire crackled as they cooked and ate some fish amber had caught.

It was cruel to be given MREs and fresh water, only to be denied by their Instructor because of some arbitrary bullshit rule. Though perhaps it was to test their discipline, Jaune wondered.

His internal musings were cut short when suddenly a metal clang rang out.

They all stopped to look at Russel who stood paused. His foot was bumped up against something in a bush. Curious, he stuck his hand into it where the metal clang originated, and after parting it revealed to the whole group a metal box half buried in the dirt.

"A box?" said Amber.

Sky rolled his eyes. "No, a shoe."

"What's in it?" pressed Dove.

"Should we really open it? It probably belongs to somebody…?" trailed off Jaune. The sound of metal opening as Russel popped the lid open, completely destroying the lock in the process, prompted an end to that line of reasoning.

"Woah," he suddenly exclaimed.

Everyone crowded over him to see what it was.

Their jaws all dropped in surprise.

"Booze," revealed Dove with wide eyes.

A case full of alcohol bottles and flasks, ranging from beer to whisky, rum and scotch. 12 bottles of liquid gold sat there for them all to revel in.

"Well, the Gods must be looking down on us today," grinned Cardin, instantly reaching for some beer.

The other boys were quick to join in, leaving Jaune and Amber still standing there.

"Is this really a good idea?" he asked aloud.

"Sure, why not," shrugged Russel as he helped himself to some whisky.

Amber looked as uncomfortable as Jaune felt.

"I don't think getting drunk right now is the best thing to do…" she warned. Cardin's response was to take a swig of the beer before wiping his lips with a satisfied sigh.

"Relax. It's just a little something to celebrate. We earned it tonight after what we accomplished."

Jaune wasn't too sure what to say to that, so he changed the subject.

"So, who's taking watch?" "Pah. It's not necessary," dismissed Cardin. "Nothing lives out here, and we're so far ahead of the other teams that a little extra rest will be fine."

Jaune's eyebrows skyrocketed. That seemed remarkably careless.

"Look," Cardin began crossing his legs as he nursed the small bottle. "Even if someone did enter the camp, there's six of us, and we're," he thumbed to himself and the other three young men, "huntsmen." "Candidates," corrected Amber.

"Same thing," he shrugged.

"Point is, relax. Unwind. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Amber could only watch in horror as Jaune seemed to consider the offer. "Jaune, no…" she shook her head.

"I mean, we kind of earned this. We need to get some rest anyways," he pointed out.

"Jaune, we can't just let our guards down like this," she argued.

"Look, it's only for the training," continued Cardin. "When we get to real deployments, we'll keep a guard up posted. But for tonight? It's fine."

He was greeted by Jaune's contemplative silence, and Amber's skeptical silence.

Cardin sighed. "Look, fine. We'll roster some night watch tonight. Right Russel?" he called out.

Russel looked up at him mid-swig, eyes wide. "Hmm?"

"You'll take first watch tonight, right?" repeated Cardin.

"I'm what now?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"First watch. You can keep drinking. Just remember to wake someone up for the changeover."

Amber winced.

"That's not really the best way of organizing night watch," she couldn't help but comment with a cringe. Cardin didn't care, or at least didn't seem to think it was necessary.

"Bah, relax. It's a training exercise. What's the worst that could happen?"

Everyone was asleep at the small camp when the figure appeared. Russel was snoring, still holding his half-full bottle of whisky. He may have forgotten to wake someone up for a shift change….

With a drunken stumble, the disheveled man placed one foot in front of the other with a hiccup. The groans and snores of the sleeping soldiers greeted him as he entered the clearing. The crackle of the dying fire meant illumination was only partial.

With another hiccup, he stepped closer to where his target was.

Several weird bushes lay arranged around the smouldering fire-pit. A couple of logs lay directly opposite him, and on top of one of those logs sat his target.

It was unmoving. It sat vulnerable in the open. It was an easy target for him as he licked his lips hungrily.

Shuffling through the ground with bare feet, he arrived at it, reaching forward to grasp it.

Grabbing it by the neck, he brought it close.

It was glorious, and in his mind-addled state, he couldn't help but childishly chuckle and grin to himself.

Alcohol.

A shiny metal flask, and a full one too judging by the weight.

A delectable treasure.

Mission a success, the figure decided to celebrate his hard earned victory by opening the flask and chugging back.

Unfortunately, his bladder felt like it was going to burst.

Drunk or not, he had enough wits about him to not want to soil the, well, soil, he was standing on.

In between the mix of the dark night and his blurry vision, he could make out a low-lying bush merging with the log he found his booze on.

That would do nicely, and he made to undo the fly of his pants.

Wait, where are my –hic – pants…? He wondered, only feeling skin where his member was.

He patted himself with his free hand, feeling no clothes. Was he naked? Why was he naked again?

Eh, it didn't matter. If anything, it made things easier.

Tilting his head back, he began to chug back the flask of booze while aiming at the bush. And proceeded to let the floodgates loose.

Booze went in, water went out.

And then the bush stood up with a scream.

His eyes went wide and he nearly shit himself right there.

A monster?! HOLY FUCK! His mind screamed. His mouth, however, couldn't seem to make the connection in his drunken state, and instead he let loose his own scream.

The bush screamed even more intensely, and before he knew it, all of the other bushes seemed to stand up, screaming and shouting.

He had walked into the lair of bush-monsters.

He dropped the flask as he reached for his weapon that he remembered to keep on his shoulder. Only to feel air and bare skin.

There was no weapon.

Well shieeeet.

The next thing he felt was something hard collide with the back of his head.

Jaune woke up with a jolt as Amber's scream penetrated the otherwise silent night.

Cardin and the others rushed to their feet, though it was apparent no-one was prepared for what was going on. Everyone stumbled within their sleeping bags as they jumped upright.

Jaune was the first person to reach his rifle, and while the instinct was to shoot at the humanoid figure attacking Amber, he remembered that they actually hadn't been issued any ammo at all. So he did the next best thing.

With a mighty war-cry he leapt towards the stranger, who was buck naked for some odd reason, and swung his gun like a bat into the back of his head.

The stock hit him with such sheer force that the barrel of the gun bent, and the stranger stumbled forward. He dropped something onto the ground.

The naked man recovered rather quickly, but so did Amber as she leapt up, soaking wet.

She let loose a guttural scream as she tensed.

By now Cardin had come free and grabbed his own gun, charging forth with a scream.

The man turned to face him, a delirious look on his face. Sort of. It was hard to make out his details with the poor lighting and chaotic movement.

The man stood stock still like a deer in the headlights, petrified as Cardin charged forth, swinging his gun like a club also.

He was just about to make contact as he swung overhead nice and strong when the stranger ducked his head and revealed his most deadly weapon yet.

Bile shot in Cardin's face as the man heaved, sending projectile vomit flying.

Cardin missed his swing, his eyes becoming blinded as he let out a surprised scream, only to slip on the ground and fall flat on his ass.

"What the fuck!"

The stranger stumbled out of Cardin's range, leaving Russel and Dove to try and tackle the stranger to the ground.

Key word being try.

The man hurled another stream of puke out in front of them, and they skidded to a halt in disgust, only for them to both still trip and fall over each other. Right into the pile putrid slop.

Frightened, the stranger began to backpedal away, only to stop and look directly at the discarded flask of booze on the ground.

Jaune could only watch in dumbfounded confusion as the man ran back into the fray to retrieve the flask. Whether by pure skill or blind luck, he dodged the clumsy attacks of a blinded Cardin, grabbing the flask with a relieved look on his face.

This couldn't be real right?

It was. The stranger, holding his treasure, began to quickly stumble out of the camp, but Jaune was having none of it.

With Amber still screaming a shrill scream, and Cardin blinded, that left Sky, Dove and Russel. And they were far nearer to the stranger than he himself was.

"Quick! Sky toss your blanket onto him!" he yelled.

Miraculously, Sky listened and he quickly grabbed his sleeping bag, throwing it onto the retreating figure.

The stranger barely looked up before it collapsed onto him.

It worked!

Instantly, Dove and Russel pounced onto the man trapped under the blanket, but it quickly revealed itself to be a struggle and a half.

The naked man lashed out under their combined body weight as they tried to pin him to the ground.

All that could be seen were a few thrashing limbs, the rest of his body cocooned up.

"Hold him still!" yelled Dove."

"I'm trying," gritted out Russel, "but this crazy fucker is strong!" not even a second later he received the stranger's flask being bashed into his temple, sending him off with a pained gasp.

Dove saw red.

"You fucking bastard!" almost instantly he began to wail on the trapped man with his fists, presenting a savage beat-down to the camp intruder.

By now Cardin had cleared the vomit from his eyes, his vision also red with rage.

He ran over to Dove, before he too began to instantly wail on the pinned stranger with his rifle.

Russel got up, angrily nursing his temple with an enraged glower before joining the two in the beatdown.

And finally, Sky joined in.

The four boys stomped, punched and beat senseless the squirming blanket, letting loose a stream of profanities and threats.

It lasted a total of five seconds, before Cardin missed his swing, slamming Russel on his hands by mistake. He leapt back with a howl.

"Ow! What the fuck, Cardin!"

"Well you shouldn't be in the way," Cardin snapped, briefly letting loose his assault.

That was his mistake as the stranger's hand snapped out, grabbing Cardin by his ankle.

Surprised, he looked down only to be yanked forward and off his feet. He crashed down onto his back.

"Cardin!" cried Sky, only to receive a bare leg to his crotch as the stranger scrambled onto his feet.

His face went purple and funny as he doubled over in silent agony, letting loose a stream of puke. Right onto Dove's head.

Dove screamed as it ran down his face and neck, covering his eyes and slipping into his clothes.

That was everything the stranger needed to be up on his feet, but he was still covered in the blanket.

With everyone out of commission, that left Jaune as the only one capable of stopping this crazed madman.

With a war-cry that sounded far more masculine in his head than in real life, he leapt onto the stranger, wrapping his arms around his chest in a bear hug to try and stop his escape.

He'd be damned if he was going to let this crazy creep get away.

Unfortunately, the crazy creep panicked, and tried with all his might to throw Jaune off.

"Ge' offa me," he slurred, spinning around wildly. All the while, Jaune began to hang on for dear life.

The stranger was barely bigger than him, and yet he put up a fight and half, with strength far beyond what a normal person should.

"No!" he screamed back, though his voice began to waver.

The stranger spun around, backpedalling and stumbling as he tried to pry Jaune off, but in return he wrapped his entire body around the man. He clung to him like an octopus. For every arm that he pried off, Jaune would tighten his other, forcing the man to try another tactic. When that didn't work, Jaune would clamp back on.

Amber let out a furious roar as she suddenly got up in both of their faces, fist reared back before sending it flying into the man's face.

It missed at the last second as the stranger moved yet again. Jaune barely had time to register the incoming fist before his nose exploded in pain and blood.

He didn't let go of the man, but he did lean back as he let loose a nasally scream of surprise.

The sudden shift in weight sent both men tumbling to the ground, right on top of the still smouldering campfire.

Fortunately for Jaune, his thick clothing offered him protection. The sleeping bag on the other hand offered none to the stranger and within seconds it caught alight.

The man leapt out of the campfire, covered in fire as the blanket began to burn.

He let loose a panicked scream, flailing his arms about as he began to run around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Jaune scrambled out of the way of the flaming psycho as he screamed a banshee cry.

Even Amber reflexively jumped back out of stranger's way.

The flames caught the brush as he flailed through them. Jaune's eyes went wide.

"Quickly! We've got to stop him!" he called out, only for Amber to snap back.

"Stop him?! He's on freaking fire!

Cardin reached out to grab him, but instead the man flung himself into Cardin's arms unexpectedly. And he wouldn't let go.

"I'm on fiyaaaaaaaaaaah!" he slurred. "I'm on fiyahhhhhhh?! Hooooooooooooow!? Whyyyyyyyyyyyy?!"

Cardin screamed as the flames spread onto him, and he threw the burning man off of him.

Shit, Jaune cursed as he ran to go help his teammate.

If the stranger wanted to go run off into the forest and burn, then so be it. His teammate was more important than that crazy!

The burning stranger dashed out of the camp, not into the forest, but right towards where the raft was tethered. He dropped smouldering embers as he smashed through foliage and bush.

Instantly the raft began to catch fire. While the logs themselves didn't burn, the rope and stretchers holding everything together did.

Unfortunately, Jaune had bigger priorities. Namely his immolating teammate.

"Cardin!" he screamed. "Hit the ground and roll over!" Jaune screamed, and Amber was quick to join.

"Roll over Cardin!"

"Yeah, remember Smokey the Bear?!"

"THAT'S IF THERE'S A BUSHFIRE YOU DICKHEAD!" Cardin screamed as he jumped onto the ground, rolling back and forth as he attempted to smother the flames.

It wasn't working. Jaune grabbed a handful of dirt and began to throw it on his burning teammate.

Catching on, Amber joined him, and even Cardin clued in after some healthy cursing.

Russel hobbled over, clutching his nethers tenderly.

Cardin reached up in the air, arms still flailing, and his hand made contact with something.

Russel's eyes went wide open as something smacked his already swollen family jewels.

Instantly, another stream of bile launched out of him. And straight into Cardin's open mouth as he kept screaming.

His eyes went wide as he began to choke and realise what just happened.

Jaune and Amber quickly jumped back, watching in horror as Cardin began to heave, vomiting bile everywhere.

It took several long minutes for everyone to calm down, stop puking and put out the small spreading fire of their destroyed campsite. It took even longer to quickly rescue the ammo crates before they sank to the river-bed.

The stretchers were saved. Sort of. They were burnt husks of steel and shredded material.

At least they could still be collapsed back down.

The same could not be said the logs of the raft as they drifted away, getting carried off the river.

Their raft was destroyed, and by now the burning intruder was long gone.

"And who's fault would that be," Cardin grumbled, sending Jaune a sour look. His eye twitched in irritation.

"You know, I thought it was kinda more important to help my teammate than chase some hobo crackhead," Jaune snapped back with more heat than he intended. "You were on fire for god's sake!"

"Aura protected me," Cardin dismissed with a dismissive wave.

"Didn't protect me," groaned Russel, sitting awkwardly on the log with his legs splayed open.

"Yeah, well that's because you're a fucking moron for not having your Aura up," Cardin shot, sending him a disappointed glare.

"And thanks, by the way. I really needed to taste your failure in my mouth."

Russel flipped him the middle finger, too weak to protest any further.

"What even was that, anyways," muttered Dove.

"There were six of us, and we all got our asses handed to us by a naked homeless man."

That made Cardin growl.

Amber snorted, having gotten changed out of her drenched uniform. She had taken a dip down at the river, cold as it might have been, to wash the literal piss clinging to her.

"Don't drag me into your mess. You guys beat yourselves up."

Jaune sighed.

"This is why I said having someone be on guard was a good idea."

Cardin looked at him with a dead look.

"Don't. Just… don't," he warned. He didn't need to be reminded of any more of his obvious failures.

"And even if we did, it means nothing, because apparently everyone here is as weak as piss." That garnered him filthy looks from everyone.

Speaking of piss, Jaune turned to Amber who was in her combat pants and a tank top, the only things not drenched in urine.

"What happened anyway, Amber. It was quiet one moment, and then the next thing I hear you screaming?"

Amber growled.

"That fucker was standing over me taking a piss on, that's what."

Sky shuddered. "That's gross man. Almost as gross as Cardin and Russel here getting it on."

Cardin looked ready to murder him, but Sky only chuckled.

Amber shot him a filthy look.

"Yeah, well, waking up to a man standing buck naked over you, flashing and pissing on you is not a nice way to wake up," she snapped.

"How'd you react if I decided to piss on you?!"

Sky grinned.

"I'd say bring it on, and come sit on my face," he replied cheekily.

A loud smack could be heard as his head snapped to the side, a giant hand-shaped print etched onto his cheek as Amber fumed.

"Sky, that's uncalled for," chastised Jaune.

"What the hell, it was joke! She just fucking assaulted me!" protested Sky, rubbing his cheek tenderly.

"I just got assaulted for fuck's sake!" Amber was not happy right now. Not that Jaune could blame her.

"Guys, let's just calm down. What's done is done. All we can do is carry on and move forward," he offered.

Cardin sighed.

"As loathe as I am to agree with you, you're right. There's nothing that can be done right now. We still have a mission objective to complete."

"Like hell there is!" roared Amber.

"That fucking asshole is still out there! I want to beat him senseless! At the very least we need to report this to the Instructor."

Cardin stared at her. "And then what? What do you expect will happen? By the time that weirdo is even found, if at all, nothing will probably happen."

Amber folded her arms angrily. "Oh for fuck's sake."

Jaune leaned over and put a reassuring hand on her arm. She slightly relaxed at his touch and words.

"Look, we'll report it to the Instructor when we see him anyways. We'll catch up with him sooner if we finish the assessment. Besides, I doubt we'll encounter that weirdo again," he said.

Amber was still uncertain. Dove spoke up.

"I'm still trying to wrap my head around what a naked man is doing out here. Like, what was he hoping to accomplish…?" he trailed off as he looked at Amber, something seeming to click in his head.

"…What?" she asked dumbly.

"Wait, you said he was standing over you? Do you think maybe he was….?"

There was silence as everyone began to piece together what he was implying.

Amber winced with disgust.

"Oh for… that is disgusting Dove."

Cardin grimaced.

"You mean to tell me he was probably planning to do things to her?"

"Like some sort of serial molester?" added Jaune.

Dove nodded slowly.

"The Forever Falls have had a history of disappearances over the years. Maybe that guy had something to do with it. I mean, considering how strong he was, he didn't seem like a regular homeless dude. Plus, we're miles away from civilization," he rationalized.

Cardin scowled, and Jaune and the others grimaced. Even Amber seemed perturbed.

"Great. So we have a serial killer slash rapist on the prowl out here."

"Then all the more reason to get the Instructor involved," demanded Amber.

"Look, we'll have to think about that and if we really need to do that," Cardin dismissed. Amber guffawed at him.

"Think about it?! I got pissed on in my sleep! Fuck thinking about it! You need to act! You claim to be the team-leader, but so far your decisions have given us nothing but problems!"

Cardin snapped.

"Well I don't see you doing anything useful!"

"What, unlike you?!" she bit back with a sarcastic laugh. "Don't make me laugh."

Cardin growled as he stood up, only to be met by Jaune who quickly got in between the two of them.

"Okaaaaaaaaaay. I think we've had enough fighting. How about let's just all focus on packing up camp and heading to our drop-off point. We've still got another day left of this exercise, yeah?" reasoned Jaune, having heard enough.

Cardin kept his glare up at Amber, which she held defiantly. Eventually, the two broke contact and settled back down.

"I suppose we're all awake now, so it would be for the best," Cardin agreed, calming down. Amber nodded slowly.

"Cool then! Let's pack our things up and be gone within fifteen. Sound like a plan?"

Cardin glanced at Dove who shrugged.

"Sounds good to me. We've already been set back by this shitshow. No need to let things get worse."

It was at that moment that a makeshift raft, similar to the one they had constructed earlier, drifted by them. On it sat the very team they had passed and mocked earlier.

They all made eye contact, silently staring at each other.

The leader of the raft slowly extended his middle-finger to them as they drifted down the river.

Cardin saw red.

"Oh that fucker!" he exploded, throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

The other team had caught up to them, and was now in the lead….

Qrow woke up with a smashing headache, and upon looking around the filthy apartment, realized it wasn't the only thing smashed.

His window currently was shattered with glass scattering the ground underneath his naked body.

Bottles of booze, long since emptied lay scattered in a haphazard minefield, with clothes and garbage tossed into small mountains randomly.

In his defense he only ever really crashed in this place. He was often too busy off on missions to actually spend enough time to warrant making this place worth living in.

As he began to stand up, hearing the crunch of glass breaking under his bare skin, he took further notice of the damage and his state of being.

Fortunately his Aura was automatically flaring up to avoid injury, so the glass did nothing but buckle under his weight.

Still. Why did his body ache so much?

A quick glance revealed a cacophony of bruises forming all over his limbs and torso. He was sure feeling it as well.

Why was he naked…? Why was his window broken? And more importantly; why were there so many fucking feathers and bird guts sprayed across the wall from him, right where his weapon was laying?!

He wracked his mind for events that would have led to this peculiar situation. The raging hangover made that difficult however.

"Ugh, fuck me. I need a drink," he groused as he stumbled forth to his fridge.

He opened it, only to be greeted by the sight of empty, stained shelves.

"Fuck…"

Right. Well, since getting (more) drunk was out of the question, he might as well start with getting some clothes on.

Speaking of, how did he lose them in the first place…?

Oh, right. It was beginning to return to him now.

He ended up at the bar and was drinking and flirting with the waitress and one thing seemed to lead to another.

"Did I hook up with her at her place…?" he wondered aloud as he managed to find a spare set of clothes.

Those details were absent. He remembered vaguely running out of booze and deciding to fly to his stash out in the Forever Falls. Hey, a guy had to have stashes around Vale when he was in town. What else was he supposed to spend his money one?!

Hmm, let's see, what was next. Oh! He remembered something burning him when he was getting more wasted and… bush-monsters? Nah, that couldn't be right.

He left his stash and was flying back.

That's right! And then that fucking bird, that god-damned owl decided he'd make a good snack! The cunt.

He looked at the messy feathers and bloodstain on the wall.

"Hmph. Serves you right, ya prick," he grumbled as he shouldered his weapon.

What else was there…? His memory was still foggy in that regard. Oh well, it wasn't like it mattered…

Chapter Text

Arc 1: Chapter 5

With the rafts destroyed and no more logs lying around sturdy enough to construct a new one, that left them with no choice but to go back to the tried and tested tactic of the first day. Carrying the crates. Only, there was one slight problem.

Another team had surpassed them, and Cardin and Amber wanted first place. Badly.

Frankly, Jaune wasn't too fussed about placing first. Call him selfish, but he'd rather just pass the course while not blowing his lungs up through sheer strain. Of course, a gentle reminder that permanent latrine duty awaited those who placed last helped motivate him to change his mind. And considering how scary the Instructor could be, he had no doubt he would be quite vindictive and cruel in his standards.

Fortunately this time the ground was much more even and so a shuttle run of five people linked together by four crates was possible, with the sixth person able to help rotate out with another if needed.

Jaune doubted that would be needed, but a quick glance at the map revealed they still had a fair distance to go. As in another whole day of walking with heavy crates.

The typical response was to curse aloud.

"Argh, fuck this!" screamed Russel, finally tossing his end of the crate down onto the ground before sorely clutching his tender legs and arms.

The reaction was instant. Everyone came crashing to the ground due to the sudden shift in support, or lack thereof.

"What the fuck, Russel?!" growled Cardin as he began to clamber to his knees. Amber was of a similar mind as she growled to herself. Russel wasted no time in expressing his frustration.

"I can't take it anymore. My feet are fucking killing me. My hands are fucking killing me. Every fucking muscle is fucking killing me, and all because of these FUCKING CRATES!"

Cardin got up into the mohawk boy's face.

"That's not a good enough excuse. We're all tired," he growled.

"Yeah, well, I need a break," he snapped.

It was Amber who berated him next.

"I am not going to be stuck cleaning toilets for the next four weeks all because you want to 'take a break'. Now get up soldier!"

Sheesh, where did that come from? Amber could be scary too apparently, Jaune reeled.

As everyone began to bicker, he took to looking at the map provided and comparing it their surroundings.

According to what he was seeing, there was a highway just up on the hill ahead, with a bridge over the river. That highway curved around in a massive arc and ran parallel to the drop-off which was only an extra click in the woods.

It was smooth bitumen road, meaning no obstacles to travel. With that, they might not place first, but they would certainly get there much more quickly compared to rucking it through heavy roots, hills, cliffs and stones.

"Guys," he called. He went ignored as the group continued to argue.

"Guys," he tried again.

"GUYS!" He screamed. That got their attention, even if what was a mixture of owlish looks and angry glares greeted him in return.

"If you can stop fighting, we're literally a hill away from the highway," he explained calmly.

"So? What does that have to do with anything?" bit Russel.

"Well," he sighed, folding the map up and handing it to Cardin. "For starters it means an easier walk for us because the road is flat. Secondly, if we follow it, we end up within one click of our drop-off. Three? It's an easier walk!"

Everyone stared at him silently before Cardin broke the silence.

"Will it helps us place first?"

Jaune sighed, resisting the urge to facepalm.

"Honestly, I doubt we're placing first by this point. But we'll definitely avoid last. I think?" They still didn't know where any of the other teams were.

Cardin threw his hands in the air before clapping them. "Fuck it. I'm down."

"More walking?" groaned Russel with mounting horror.

Dove shook his head. "You moron, of course there is."

"Oh." He deflated at that. Amber didn't care.

"Well, let's go. Russel, I swear to god if you drag us down any more, I will beat you," she glowered. Jaune's eyes went wide.

"Woah! Okay Amber, let's just chill. Brother God's above, you are vicious."

She gnashed her teeth at him like a rabid dog.

"I'll show you vicious! I am not cleaning anymore piss! I want a shower, and then I want an actual bed!"

Dove helped Russel to his feet before clambering for the crate.
"Russel, you're on rest for the next half hour then," conceded Cardin. "The rest of you, form up and let's climb this hill."

The order wasn't necessary as Amber began to surge up the hill, taking the lead. The others quickly began to follow suit, smashing through dry branches and bushy leaves.

The hill wasn't overly large, but with the awkward footing and tight spaces to navigate because of trees and bushes, the trek took far longer than anyone felt comfortable with, especially with something as heavy as those crates.

By the time they emerged at the top of the hill, a flat road that snaked around to the left greeted them. It passed in front of them before slowly arcing right and behind them.

Cardin fumbled for the map as the others set the crates down with some heavy panting and grunting.

"Okay, let's see. If we follow it to the left, it will pass a bridge before turning right and north. At which point we follow it until we reach a second bridge on our right and cross it."

Jaune peered over his shoulder. As did Amber.

"Yup, and then we just follow it north again for ten clicks until we arrive at the drop-off."

Cardin slowly turned to face Jaune, his lips curled in horror. Jaune's dopey grin greeted him, and he never felt so punchable as right now.

"Just? For ten more clicks? Jaune, that's a fucking huge distance! And that's not accounting for the journey up to the second bridge!"

A car whistled by them, blowing Amber's hair awry underneath her helmet.

"Well, I guess we start walking," Jaune shrugged.

There wasn't much else they could do except soldier up and begin their trek.

Cardin shook his head slowly. "Nah-uh. Like hell we're walking!"

He marched onto the road as a truck passed by.

"Cardin?! What are you doing?! Get back here before you get run over!" screamed Amber.

"Relax," he waved off before sticking his thumb out into the air. The truck blew right by him. His lips flapped in the wind as his attempt to flag the vehicle down was ignored.

By now he was standing in the middle of the road. A white van drove by, blaring its horn loudly as it swerved to avoid smearing him.

"Cardin! You idiot!" screamed Jaune. "Get back here!"

"No! We're getting a ride! Fuck walking."

Jaune wanted to pull his hair out, but the helmet prevented him from doing that.

"No you idiot! You're standing in the middle of the road! That's how you get hit!"

Cardin shot him a doubtful look.

Amber couldn't help shake her head and tut. "He's stubborn, I'll give him that."

Jaune began to climb over the rail-guard on the edge of the bitumen, baring his teeth as he hissed.

"He'll be dead is what!"

Amber did a double take as Jaune began to march out to Cardin who failed yet again to flag down another passing vehicle.

"Wait, Jaune?! What are you doing!"

He began to jog over the road to Cardin. He stopped to turn around and call back to Amber.

"I'm bringing him back!" He shouted.

A red pickup truck came speeding up, honking its horn in sudden panic. The sound of brakes being applied and tires skidding screeched out.

Amber felt her heart plummet as she saw it on a collision course right for him.

"Jaune, look out!" She vaulted over the rail, but it was too late.

The sound of the vehicle hitting Jaune and sending him flying forward into the air like a ragdoll played out in horrifying slow motion. His panicked scream echoed in her ears.

Cardin spun to try and pull him, but it was too late.

The vehicle came to a screeching stop.

"JAUNE!" She screamed, as did the others as they rushed over to where Jaune lay.

He was sprawled out onto his back, groaning loudly.

"Jaune!" she screamed, dropping to her knees as she went to cradle him. She only just stopped herself from touching him at the last possible second as she remembered her first aid training. Do NOT shift someone if they have a spinal injury!

"Jaune? Are you alright?!"

His eyes blearily opened, and he took in the sight of all five teammates gathered around him, each with worrying looks and concern over their faces.

The sound of car doors opening as panicked civilians began to scream and approach could be heard.

"Oh my god! Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" came a woman's panicked voice.

Slowly, but steadily, Jaune pushed himself upright.

"Just stay still!" commanded Amber, but he ignored her.

"Argh. That hurt," he winced.

"YOU FUCKING MORON!" screamed a middle-aged man as he stormed over, waving a fist. He was quickly intercepted by Dove and Sky.

"Woah, buddy. Calm the fuck down," warned Sky, getting in the older man's face.

You would think the sight of several heavily armed soldiers getting close and personal would have been intimidating, but you would be sorely mistaken.

The man seemed to be emboldened, instantly pushing right into Sky.

"Don't tell me to calm down. My wife just hit that guy because you dumbasses couldn't decide to stay off the road! We have two small children with us!"

True to his word, in the back seat of the car was a small girl probably six years old, and a boy no older than three.

They looked shaken, and the toddler was crying.

The mother, probably in her early thirties, looked hysterical.

"Well you should watch where you're going!" yelled Russel, standing up to support his two teammates.

"You guys hit Jaune!"

Speaking of, he was beginning to come to. With a shake of his head, he finally made to stand up. Amber tensed up, fearing he would collapse back down dead, but fortunately he didn't.

"You alive?" asked Cardin.

"I – ow – yeah," Jaune nodded, nursing his chest. The plate carrier was in the way, yet that might have been what helped save him.

"I think I'm just bruised on the chest is all. Everything else is fine."

Cardin nodded as he stood up.

"Good. 'Cause you're a fucking idiot," he snapped. Jaune blinked, stunned for a second.

"Excuse me?! You're the one that stood out in the middle of the road waiting to get hit!" he snapped right back.

Cardin felt his lips peel back in a scowl.

"And yet look at who actually got hit," he pointed out.

"I was trying to save you!" Jaune exploded.

Cardin looked around incredulously, at a loss for words before finally fixing Jaune an unbelieving look.

"You… I'm a Huntsman candidate, idiot! I have aura! I don't need saving!"

Whatever Jaune was about to retort was lost, the heat in his words vanishing as quickly as they arose as he processed Cardin's words.

After a second of realization, all he could offer was a meek 'oh'. Cardin crossed his arms unimpressed.

"Yeah. Oh."

Amber had to admit, Cardin had him there.

The woman kept screaming hysterically while the husband continued to yell at them.

Cardin's eyes twitched as he heard his teammates bicker and yell back at them.

"Oh for… Will you SHUT UP!" He roared, turning around to them.

Silence greeted him, with the sole exception being the woman's shaken babbling about how she was sorry.

"I can't even hear myself think," he growled, massaging the rifle in his hands.

The silence lasted but a moment before the father exploded in rage, storming over to Cardin.

"Think? There is no thinking! You morons are the most irresponsible, reckless…" whatever he was about to continue with faltered as he trailed off.

Cardin slowly turned his body around to face the man, his grip on the weapon not changing.

Faced with a gun being pointed at him, he instantly clamped shut, going white as a sheet.

Cardin regarded the man intently for a second, but hearing no more complaints, he turned back around to Jaune.

Amber and Jaune were looking at him with wide eyes.

"What?"

"You just flagged a civilian," he pointed out, and Cardin then realized why the man went silent.

When he turned, the gun he was holding turned with him, making it appear as if a very pissed of soldier had just pointed a gun at the guy.

"…We're taking the vehicle," he declared firmly.

"Cardin, we can't just steal a vehicle. It belongs to these people!" Jaune argued.

Amber didn't even hesitate, looking Cardin dead in the eyes.

"Let's do it."

Jaune couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Not you too!"

Cardin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Look, we're not stealing. They can come along for the ride as well."

He was sitting in the front passenger seat while Cardin was behind the wheel. That left the mother, the father, Russel and Amber squished into the three back seats, with Amber in the middle and Russel on the right passenger side. Fortunately they were wide enough to accommodate them, even if they all lacked seatbelts.

Dove and Sky sat in the cargo bed of the pick-up with the four crates secured by what little remained of their rope.

The six year old sat on the father's lap, while the toddler was in the mother's arms.

They were currently driving at the speed limit, and making incredible time.

Amber rested her chin on her hand as she peered out the road from the middle seat. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the six year old girl looking at her curiously.

"Hi," she asked with her child-like voice.

This wasn't her first time interacting with children, especially as a huntress, so her disarming smile came naturally to her.

"Hey sweetie!"

"Judy, don't talk to her," scolded the mother, her voice wavering.

Amber twitched.

"It's okay. Judy was it? We're not bad people."

The mother shot her a filthy look, which Amber promptly ignored.

"We're actually soldiers," she continued, pointing a thumb to herself.

"Woah!" Judy's eyes lit up.

Russel couldn't help but chime in, offering a dashing smile to the young girl.

"I know right. We're pretty cool, right?"

Judy put a questioning finger to her chin while her parents watched on uncomfortably.

"I don't know. You kinda smell. Cool guys don't stink, right?"

Russel looked like he'd been stabbed through the heart. Amber couldn't help but chuckle.

"Ah, sorry for that. We've been out in the woods for a couple of days."

"Especially you. You reaaaaaally stink." To emphasise her point, Judy was pinching her nose.

Amber felt her jaw draop.

"Gak?! I-it's not my fault! We had a really rough time out in the woods. Right guys?"

Russel snickered. "Yeah. Real rough. Especially you."

Jaune's voice cut in from the front.

"Guy's I don't really want to hear about rough times considering I just got hit by a car."

The father grumbled something angrily, but otherwise went ignored. Russel leaned back into the seat, hands behind his head.

"Man, I'm just glad we don't have to carry those fuckin' crates anymore. Shit's heavy, you feel me?"

Instantly all eyes in the back seat were glaring daggers at him. Amber hissed at him.

"Mind your language! We have impressionable ears back here," she gestured to the kids who were listening.

The damage was already done.

"Hehehehe. Fuckin' crates."

"Judy!"

Amber tensed up, before sending Russel the most withering glare possible. He shrunk into his seat under the heat of her gaze, promptly shutting up.

"Fuckin' crates! Those fuckin' crates. Fuckin' crates!" Judy sang.

"Judy, stop saying that!" yelled her mother.

Amber shook her head at Russel. She oozed disappointment.

"You just had to open your mouth, didn't you."

Meanwhile at the front, Jaune held the map out while Cardin drove. All around them trees blurred.

"You've been driving long?" asked Jaune, trying to make some small talk. Cardin nodded slowly.

"Yeah, my pops showed me back when I was 11."

"Really?"

"Yeah. We used to live out on a farm down near Cherry Lake. You?"

Jaune hummed.

"Yeah, nothing so fancy. I originally lived in Ansel."

"The frontier? What are the Grimm like?"

Jaune shrugged.

"It's not so bad, actually. We get a fair few, but we have a lot of retired huntsmen in the area. So was my dad, actually."

Cardin pursed his lips. "Huh. Neat. Ah, shit, where's our next turn?" he asked suddenly, and Jaune glued his eyes back to the map.

"Ahh, according to this, about… five clicks, and then we turn right on the bridge."

Any further conversation was interrupted when Judy suddenly began to groan.

"Urgh. Mommy. I don't feel so good…."

"What is it sweetie?"

"My tummy hurts," she whined, making a show of clutching her belly.

Her mother looked up into the back of Cardin's seat.

"We need to pull over. Judy's not feeling well."

Cardin grit his teeth.

"Look, can she hold on?"

"What?! No!" the mother looked alarmed.

"Look, please just pull over. My Judy gets really bad motion sickness."

Cardin shook his head, his patience wearing thin.

"Look, we're not stopping. We've only got a couple clicks to go, and then you can go back to wherever you were headed."

"Mommyyyyyyyyy!" groaned Judy. By now tears were beginning to form.

The father shook his head, his own patience gone.

"Listen, just god dammit! You've already kidnapped us against our will and stolen our vehicle!"

Jaune leaned over his seat to peer into the back, a finger in the air to correct him.

"Actually, sir, we've let you come with us willingly. If it were a kidnapping-"

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN!" Jaune shrunk back into his seat. "Duly noted…."

"Please, for the love of all that is holy, stop the car!"

Cardin ground his teeth audibly as he kept his foot on the pedal.

"If we stop the car, I'm kicking you out. We're on a tight schedule here."

"MOMMY!" Judy wailed. Sensing the stress and tension, the toddler also began to cry.

Instantly, the mother began to try and soothe both children. It was to no avail as their wails drowned out the back of the car.

"NOW LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE!" the father screamed. It only made the situation worse.

"Dear, just stop!" the mother begged.

Cardin's grip on the steering wheel was like iron. He could feel his remaining nerve ticking away into nothing.

"No! Something needs to be said!"

"Just hold Judy! For god's sake!" she cried.

"Guys!" added Jaune. "Please relax! This isn't a kidnapping!"

Judy suddenly clutched her mouth as something threatened to escape, making terrified eye contact with an equally terrified Amber.

"Get that fucking thing away from me!" she recoiled with a hiss as she pushed back into Russel's lap, much like a cornered cat. Forget being a role model to children. She was NOT going through a second round of someone else's bodily fluids!

Normally Russel would have rejoiced at the chance to have a hot girl sit on his lap. As it was, it was hardly a romantic gesture as a fully grown huntress wearing an extra 25kg of solid military gear crushed him into the passenger door.

"Can't…breathe?!" he gasped.

Judy lurched, and Amber screamed, fearing the worst.

Instantly, she proceeded to somehow burrow under Russel's back, allowing him to breathe finally. Right as Judy began to vomit.

It landed all over his chest, with some splashing up onto his chin and lips. There was some splashback onto Amber's pants, but nowhere near the brunt amount that Russel took. She could live with that.

Russel's eyes widened in horror.

"What the FUCK!" he screamed, grossed out.

The mother shot him a pleading look before screaming for him to stop.

"BITCH, SHUT UP!" was his classy reply, before grabbing Amber's sleeve to wipe the vomit off.

She recoiled in disgust before shoving her elbow into his face.

The car suddenly braked, with Cardin clamping the horn. Everyone jerked in their seats as Cardin slowly craned his head over the back seat. His expression was murderous and rolling with thunderous rage. He released the horn.

"Will you kindly keep it down back there….?" He uttered out with a strained voice that promised pain and misery.

The parents both took one look at his expression, with the father still having visions about being nearly shot by this man earlier.

"R-right. Sorry," he gulped. Fortunately, Judy got most of her motion sickness out of her system by now, and the toddler was beginning to settle down.

Slowly, Cardin withdrew, slinking back into his seat before gradually accelerating.

As they began to resume their journey, Jaune leaned over to face both parents and Judy.

"You know, I used to get real bad motion sickness too. The key is to find a distraction." He offered.

Russel perked up.

"Ooh. I have an idea!" with that, he proceeded to bend around Amber. And literally pass his rifle to Judy.

"Ever held a gun before kiddo?"

He held his gun up for Judy to look at. Her parents both looked horrified.

"Woah," she mumbled weakly, still a bit nauseous. She made to grab it, but her father swatted her hand away.

"Absolutely not."

"Oh relax," dismissed Russel. "She'll be fine. It'll keep her distracted," he argued before forcibly handing his rifle to Judy.

She struggled to hold the sudden weight in her hands, her fingers fumbling around the handle and the barrel.

Jaune watched in morbid fascination. "Um, this wasn't exactly what I meant by distraction…"

"Nah, she'll be fine," Russel dismissed.

While Amber was certainly pro-gun, even she couldn't help but widen her eyes in surprise as Russel literally handed his gun over to Judy.

Her father exploded. Almost instantly, he grabbed the gun from her hands. Russel was still holding on, however.

"Hey, man. Not cool! Let go!"

"Don't give her a gun!" the father growled.

Russel tugged the gun back to him, but the father did not let go.

"Okay, enough. Let go of my gun!"

He didn't, and Amber could only watch as she was now caught in the crossfire of a vicious game of tug-of-war.

"Guys, stop," Jaune whined.

The gun discharged.

The sound was deafening, especially in the close confines of the vehicle.

Everybody screamed, and Cardin slammed his foot on the brakes, a horrifying squeal screeching out,

Everyone jerked forward as they came to a sudden stop. He instantly leaned over the back seat to stare at everyone with a wild eye.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!"

Russel threw his hands forward in shock, snatching the gun away from Judy and her father before cradling it.

"I don't know?! I think it went off?" he tried to explain.

"It WHAT?!" growled Amber.

"I thought we were issued blanks?!" Jaune hissed, covering his still ringing ears.

Cardin looked him dead in the eye, then at the shattered windshield with a look that begged explaining.

"Blanks can still do plenty of damage." He shot Russel a glare. "Especially at point blank."

Amber wasted no time in snatching the rifle from Russel's hand. "Gimme that," she growled.

"Hey, that's my gun!"

"It nearly killed someone! Irresponsible doesn't even begin to explain you right now," she admonished with a salty undertone.

"Are you okay, Judy?" her tone changed to motherly almost instantly. Judy nodded slowly, openly sobbing while her father sat there visibly shaking.

The toddler's crying continued in full force.

Cardin glowered at everyone in the back.

"Team. It's a bunch of civilians. Get a handle on this shit right now."

At that moment Dove rapped his knuckle on the roof, its tinny echo catching everyone's attention.

"Guys," came his slightly muffled voice. Cardin rolled his window down to hear more clearly. Dove continued,

"You alright back in there? We heard something go bang?"

"Just Russel's gun," Jaune hollered out.

"Russel's WHAT?!"

The sound of a car honking behind them caught their attention, revealing a sportscar stopped behind them. The driver was waving at them angrily to move.

"Oi fuck off will ya'?!" shouted Sky, standing up. The car honked its horn again.

Taking a page from Cardin's book he unslung his rifle and pointed it at the driver, who suddenly went wide eyed.

Cardin and Amber both felt their hearts plummet as they screamed out.

"Don't flag civilians!"

"You fucking moron!"

They both shouted. He didn't hear them. Fortunately, Dove did, or at the very least had enough common sense to realise that waving a gun at civilians was not an intelligent idea.

He quickly smacked Sky's gun down before he could do something even more foolish.

Jaune could only bury his face in his hands, shaking his head in despair.

"Oh, we're so fucked."

Seeing as he couldn't wave his gun anymore, Sky took to flipping the sportscar driver off instead. Not that it mattered as it looked like he had fainted anyways.

"Guy's that's not important," Dove shook his head, leaning over the side of the cargo-bed.

"I don't know?! Shooting and threatening to shoot someone seems pretty damn important to me?!" Jaune snapped irately, glaring at Russel through the crack of his fingers.

"Why are you looking at me?!" he protested, gesticulating in confusion.

"Guys, LOOK!" interrupted Dove.

He pointed down at the river flowing underneath the bridge they were parked on.

To their left, emerging from right underneath them, was the makeshift raft with the team from earlier.

"Is that…?" began Amber, a look of surprise marring her features.

Cardin's eyes narrowed.

"It is."

That was the only warning they got before Cardin slammed his foot on the acceleration as hard as he could.

The tires squealed behind, burning rubber into smoke. All over the sports-car.

"Cardin WAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!" Jaune's demand was promptly ignored as everyone was thrown back into their seats as they took off like a rocket.

Dove crashed into the crates with a painful holler while everyone clung to anything they could for dear life. Cardin was driving like a mad demon.

"Cardin, what the hell?!" Amber screamed, clutching Jaune's seat as she avoided being sent flying when he took a bend a little too sharply for hers, or anyone's, taste.

"They're the bastards from before. Which means we can still win this!"

"You're going to get us killed you psycho!" bellowed Jaune as he clung to his seat like a spider, eyes wide with sheer terror.

Judy and the baby wailed loudly, while both of their parents couldn't help but scream and cry for dear life.
Tires squealed as they took another bend. By now they had surpassed the raft. Even if another team had beat them, they were guaranteed to not finish last at the very least.

The toddler vomited, but the speed at which they were travelling, coupled with Cardin's erratic swerving as he weaved in and out of cars and took bends perilously, meant it went flying back into his face. And his parents. They all screamed. Partially in terror. Partially in disgust.

They rounded one more bend, only to come face to face with a semi coming their way.

"INCOMING!" Jaune screamed.

Cardin furrowed his brows, gritting his teeth as he locked in.

With a spin of the wheel he brought the car out of the way. Just in time too as the truck passed them, blaring its horn angrily.

He corrected the wheel before resuming his mad drive.

"How far," he asked.

Jaune looked at him with wild eyes.

"How far!" he repeated, this time with a little more force.

"Uh, about…" he fumbled over the map, but he couldn't get a proper hold on it, let alone actually read it.

He struggled to recall the route they needed to take, instantly searching for landmarks. And then he saw one.

A dust station up ahead, which if his map was accurate, meant they needed to stop right about here.

"Cardin! Here. Brake here!"

Cardin listened, slamming his foot on the brakes.

"Wait don't brake so fast, don't brake SOFAST!" He screamed. Too late. He was thrown into the dashboard, and he felt someone collide into his seat at the same time.

The collective pained groans of terrified passengers reverberated throughout the car, drowned out by only the wailing of the toddler.

Wasting no time, Cardin threw the driver-side door open before stepping out.

Jaune peeled himself off the dashboard, shooting everyone else, especially the family, an apologetic look.

"I'm really sorry about this. We'll take our stuff off now and then you can have your car back."

There was no reply other than groaning and sobbing.

Opening his door, Jaune stepped out and began to approach Cardin.

Amber and Russel both fell out the car, dizzy from their nightmare inducing speed trip.

Jaune clenched his fists as he stormed over to the larger boy, his face furrowing into an angry grimace.

"Cardin!" he ground out, catching his attention.

Cardin turned his head to look in the direction of the voice. Just in time for him to receive a fist into the face.

Cardin stumbled back in surprise, while Jaune retracted his hand before shaking it with a hiss.

"Ow, that hurt," he exclaimed.

Cardin blinked at Jaune in surprise.

"What was that for?!"

Jaune glared back.

"For that stupid stunt you just pulled, that's what."

"I got us here ahead of schedule? Why are you upset?"

Jaune gestured to the shaken family trying to console each other in the back seat of the car.

"Do I really need to elaborate why?"

Cardin grimaced.

"They'll be fine. Just help me unload these crates."

Jaune snapped out, grabbing his wrist. Cardin stopped, his eyes roaming to him with a surprised look. One which quickly narrowed dangerously.

"Jaune. Let go. Now."

"No." he refused to budge, meeting his glare with one of his own. He would not back down.

"What do you mean no?"

Jaune swallowed.

"I mean no. We can't just walk off like nothing happened. These people are terrified because of us. Think about their insurance premiums!"

Cardin groaned.

"Oh, for – fuck their insurance. It got us here in time."

"Well, at least apologise!" he demanded.

"No."

"Apologise to them," Juane repeated, an edge in his voice.

Amber and the others seemed to watch him intently.

He looked around, before finally letting loose a groan.

"Ugh. Fine," he hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

With measured strides, he approached the left passenger door and opened it. The parents sat there, hugging their children and each other for dear life as they trembled.

He glanced over his shoulder towards Jaune. He stood there, arms crossed.

"Uh, hey guys," Caridn offered awkwardly.

"Sorry about the ride."

"Ahem."

He winced.

"And for commandeering your vehicle, and-"

"LEAVE US ALONE!" The father screamed.

Cardin recoiled before turning to face Jaune.

His confused expression said it all.

Jaune sighed, shaking his head.

"Good enough, I suppose," he mumbled.

The journey back into the woods was filled with silence. It was also one which passed by rather quickly and easily, though that was because of the lack of difficult terrain, the short distance being just under a click, and the fact everyone was still high on adrenaline.

The drop-off was easy to spot. An open clearing surrounded by a cage fence, a watch tower, and an open shed.

If the military bus stationed there wasn't a tip off, then perhaps the group of military instructors sitting at a picnic table playing a game of cards was.

Their group filed into the drop-off, with the Instructor standing up to greet them.

"Well, I'll be damned. I guess you're not entirely useless. AND you have the supplies I gave you in one piece!"

Jaune paused. Wait. The instructor sounded, pleased?

"So, did we pass?" asked Amber.

Instructor Ballsin narrowed his eyes. "Did we pass Drill Sergeant," he corrected with narrowed eyes and a warning undertone.

"You made it in under 72 hours. 64 to be precise. That's a new record!"

He paused, and for the briefest of moments, the Instructor even seemed human.

"Yes, recruit. You did. You passed first place."

Everyone stopped and looked at each other with wide eyes.

First place?! Was their collective thought.

"We'll record your results and gear in the shed," he continued.

They couldn't believe it. They had actually passed. And gotten first place!

By some miracle, they managed to not only finish the assessment on time, but they even managed to score first place. That extra time during the morning after the debacle with the Forest Molester, coupled with Jaune's idea of a raft, let them gain extra ground over their obviously landlocked competitors. Not to mention the obvious hitch-hike.

The Instructors voice snapped them out of their stupor. "The hell you looking so excited for? Just because you runts can ferry some supplies within an allotted time-frame doesn't make you worth shit."

Duly noted, thought Jaune sourly.

It wasn't like they had to deal with lugging a heavy-ass crate of munitions, a crazed naked hobo/molester, and team dynamics that seemed more fit for a tragic comedy than real life. But woe was he if he dared to comment any of that out loud.

Speaking of, Amber was already beginning to inform the Instructor of what had happened.

Hopefully that whole ordeal would get resolved…

The instructor assured them that an official log was recorded and documented and Vale Police forces were notified of the incident. But considering the hobo crackhead had escaped, there was little to be done.

That annoyed Amber and the others. They voiced their frustrations aloud with plenty of cursing.

In other news, because of their display of teamwork and leadership, both Jaune AND Cardin received a promotion as Recruit NCO's.

Their uniforms were given shoulder patches with a double VV, and their epaulettes received the same treatment.

They were both Recruit Corporals, and as such were responsible for their team.

Cardin relished in his newfound authority. As for Jaune? He still didn't know what to think…

The weekend rolled around uneventfully. Sans more training and berating from an irate Instructor, but at this point Jaune and everyone else had come to accept it.

As promised, Jaune and his teammates were granted the weekend off to explore Vale for recreational purposes. Of course, this was under the premise that they would stay within an approved district, and would be back at base by Sunday evening.

Come Sunday, not wanting to spend his time alone with jealous recruits who continuously glared daggers into the backs of all their skulls, Jaune opted to follow Cardin. Even if he was a bit of a deuce at times.

"I know a good place to unwind downtown," he offered with a knowing smirk.

With nothing better to do, Jaune followed. Only to drop his jaw upon seeing the flashing neon light of The Club.

The streets were relatively deserted, allowing an unfetered look at the mostly immaculate building.

Three stories high, painted black, and with a row of bollards out the front, the flashing neon lights kept flowing towards the front entrance.

Jaune felt his stomach clench as he realized where he was.

All of a sudden, he wasn't so sure about how he felt entering here.

Why?

Because The Club was-

"Well, looky who the Grimm dragged in," came a demure voice that was equally sharp as it was soft.

Jaune's eyes went wide and he felt his throat clamp up.

Amber glanced at him curiously. Even Cardin and his friends seemed surprised.

Leaning against the doorway of the club was a small woman with black bob hair and straight fringe, red makeup and a red strapless dress that ended halfway up her thighs. Equally red stockings clung to her pale skin.

Red, laced shoes with high heels helped her come up to Jaune's chin as she strutted over with a sultry smirk.

If it weren't for the traumatic flashbacks when he first met her, then the pair of razor sharp blades protruding from scarlet gauntlets would have done an equally sufficient job of terrifying him.

She stood in front of him, arms crossed and hip tilted. She looked him up and down with an appraising look that screamed she liked what she was seeing.

"Maybe I misjudged," she finally said, a coy smile playing at the corner of her lips.

Jaune tugged at the white collar of his dress shirt. He was covered fully in green dress uniform above all of that. They all were. Everywhere they went was always in full uniform, including the stupid little green beret cap they had to wear.

"Uh, hi… Miltia," he greeted weakly, trying to lean back. She didn't let him, wrapping an arm around his and pulling him in close.

Cardin and the others felt their jaws collectively drop.

Amber felt her eye twitch for some reason. She didn't know the reason, but for some reason, seeing her best friend with another woman? It felt wrong.

"Hmm, you came to visit I see? My my, Melanie's going to love what she'll see."

No. Please no. he wanted to beg, but his mouth wouldn't form the words. Instead, his lips flapped like a fish.

"No way. He's already getting chicks before we entered the place?!" whisper-yelled Sky to Cardin, a look of betrayal smeared across his features.

Miltia let her eyes swivel to him, half-lidded.

"And I see you brought friends?"

Eager to change the subject, Jaune felt more than happy to throw them all at her attention.

"Y-yes! These are my friends! In fact, they're the ones that wanted to be here! I was just tagging along. Now that we're here, I can head home haha," he fired out rapidly before trying, and failing, to pull himself from her amused grip.

Amber, still processing what she was seeing, couldn't help but finally ask.

"Jaune? You've been here before?"

He froze.

"You know her?"

Jaune winced.

"Ah, sorta-kinda," he mumbled uncomfortably.

Miltia looked at her curiously, her catty gaze getting under her skin. She was a qualified Huntress for crying out loud!

She glanced over to Cardin suddenly.

"You invited us to a strip club?"

"Eh?"Jaune looked stunned. Cardin's eyebrows shot to his hairline, and even the other boys suddenly found interest stepping a few paces away from Miltia.

Miltia tilted her head dangerously, her eyes going wide as she stared into her soul. She looked like she was about to murder her.

"The fuck did you just say, bitch?"

Gone was her playful voice, replaced instead by a hard edge that promised violence.

Before Amber could react, the door swung open and a man with short black hair and a trimmed beard and moustache, wearing a two-piece suit sans the jacket, stepped out.

"Reggie's back from the loo, Miltia, so you can come back in now. He'll cover…" he trailed off, suddenly taking in the sight of six soldiers standing around, one of which looked ready to throw hands, while another was being held by Miltia.

Speaking of, he looked at the blonde-haired soldier-boy and his eyes widened even further in surprise.

"Jaune? Well-well. I guess it actually worked?"

Jaune slammed a finger up to his lips, hissing out for the man to be silent.

The man caught everyone elses gaze, before offering a knowingly look.

"I see…. Well, perhaps you should all come in."

Jaune rubbed the back of his head bashfully with his free hand, the other still pinned between Miltias arm and now breasts as she hugged him tighter.

"Oh no, really, it's fine! We were just going anyways haha!"

Miltia tightened her grip, sending him a dangerous grin, while the man stepped forward, a more domineering expression and tone erupting from his frame.

"I said you should all come in…."

Oh boy.

Junior let everyone, including Jaune, head to the bar on the first floor before vanishing into another room.

A massive cabinet filled with various bottles of liquor sprawled out, covering the entire back wall.

All around them, a spotless dance floor seemed to move on its own accord as coloured lights flashed and darted everywhere.

Loud music blared over the radio.

It truly was an assault to the senses.

All around them, men dressed in black suits and red ties either wandered around or stood imposing. A handful of civilians were present, and they kept shooting them curious glances.

They paid them no heed, however. The uniforms did tend to attract attention.

As they sat at the bar, Miltia pulled away from Jaune.

"Don't run too far, Jaune." She blew a kiss his way before sauntering away with Hei.

Everyone watched the scene unfold with a mixture of confusion and surprise.

"Well, there's a story there obviously," commented Cardin.

Jaune winced uncomfortably as he hunched forward in his seat. He still hadn't ordered anything to drink. He still didn't even feel comfortable with that.

"Please don't ask."

Amber reached for her beer that she had ordered, cupping it in both hands.

"I wouldn't mind knowing, though," she stated. "After all, we're friends. Aren't we?"

We're BEST friends, aren't we? Her mind asked instead.

Jaune was still the first person she had come to view as her first proper friend. Cardin and his friends didn't really count. Especially with how immature they could be in her humble opinion.

And I am not losing my friend to some skank. She glared into her glass, the foam obscuring any reflection. If she had seen one, she would have been mortified at how vicious she looked right now.

Because that's what they were. Right? Friends!

A few moments later, Miltia returned with a girl her mirror image, except dressed in white.

They both tugged on his arms.

"Come one Jaune. We've got some catching up to do," Miltia declared.

Sky and Russel watch on with envy.

Jaune shot them all a pleading look. There was no help from them

The two girls quickly steered Jaune to a private room and shut the door.

As the door shut behind them, Russel couldn't help but shake his head in envy.

"Man, the guy's got two chicks hanging off of him."

Amber grunted as she clasped her glass, staring into the froth bubbles of cheap beer.

"I know, fucking lucky if you ask me," agreed Sky somberly.

Yeah. Very lucky, Amber thought, her grip tightening on the glass as she stared into it, thin-lipped.

Cardin glanced her way concerned.

"Guys, maybe let's not worry about him. I'm sure he'll tell us everything as soon as he comes out."

That's right! That this was all a misunderstanding, and that hussy wasn't going to steal her friend! Hahahaha.

To be fair, she did clearly misunderstand this place as a strip club, much to everyone's mortification. But in her defense, who dressed up like that! In such revealing clothing? It was like she wanted to be – yuck! No. She shook her head.

It was all a misunderstanding.

"Oh! I wonder if this means we'll get free drinks?" wondered Russel aloud.

Cardin made to open his mouth, before he suddenly closed it in contemplation.

"You know, they do seem to know each other," added Sky, thumbing his chin while nodding slowly.

Dove snorted. "Yeah, the way she clung on to him, they probably know each other real well.

Breatheeeeeeeeeeeeeee, Amber. Breathe.

"You know, you're probably right," Cardin conceded.

He better fucking NOT be!

"Oi! Barkeep! Another round of beers," Russel demanded, waving an arm in the air.

The barkeep, a younger man only a few years older than them, scowled his way.

"Are you paying?"

"Fuck no! Put it on the tab. Jaune's got us covered!"

The barkeep looked at him skeptically, but Cardin waved his concerns away.

"You heard him. Jaune's got us covered. In fact," he spun around on his seat to face everyone. His expression was dead serious.

"We should show our gratitude to him. Because of him, we get to enjoy so many drinks. A TOAST! TO JAUNE!" he roared, lifting his beer into the air.

"HERE HERE!" agreed Dove, clinking his glass up to Cardin's.

The other boys cheered along before downing their beers in quick succession.

"Man we're lucky to have Jaune!" grinned Dove, genuinely happy.

"Yeah, he's so lucky right now," smiled Russel glumly as he gazed at the door which held Jaune and two beautiful girls.

The sound of glass shattering grabbed their attention.

"Sorry. My hand slipped. Must have had too much to drink already," Amber forced out through gritted teeth.

Cardin snorted.

"Really? Man you're a fuckin' lightweight."

Did he just insinuate…?

She scowled his way, snapping Sky's mug from him before downing it all in one go.

She'd show him who was a fucking lightweight! And it would help her take her mind off of Jaune. Her friend...

Jaune sat at the table in a small square room, barely big enough to hold the six people currently in it.

It was as spartan as they came with only a plain square desk and two chairs. Junior currently sat in the other one on the opposite side of the table, arms folded neatly as he leaned back and regarded him.

Miltia and Melanie both stood behind him, a hand each on his left and right shoulder respectively, while two men dressed in black suits and fedoras, wearing red ties and shades, stood behind Junior.

He didn't fail to miss the handles of the hatchets protruding from within their jackets.

"H-hey, Junior. Long time no see!" he smiled, forcibly injecting some cheer into his greeting.

"Hey, Jaune! Yeah, it's been a while!" smiled Junior, seemingly going along with his act.

"So glad you could drop by. And I see you actually got in!" he added, looking at the Army Dress uniform. It was the real deal.

"Y-yeah," Jaune nodded.

"So. When are you going to say thank you?"

"Uh, thank you, Junior?"

Junior's smile fell, and he regarded Jaune with a frown.

"Hmm. Could do to be a little more convincing, but it doesn't really matter I suppose."

He put his hands on the table, and Jaune flinched ever so slightly.

"What matters is we agreed on something. Didn't we."

"Ah, yeah, I guess we did?"

"Guess we did? Guess we did?! Do you hear this joker?"

Junior looked around incredulously, chuckling at his own joke. The two men behind him began to laugh as well.

The Malachite twins behind him remained silent.

"That's funny Jaune. That's very funny," he laughed lowly. The two men behind him continued to laugh. Even Jaune felt himself begin to form a relieved smile, and he too began to chuckle. Albeit his was more out of nervousness than finding actual humour in whatever Junior had found.

All of a sudden Junior stood up and leaned over Jaune, and before he could react he felt the barrel of a handgun pressed firmly into his forehead.

"I'm not laughing kid," Junior intoned gravely, voice devoid of any humour.

Suddenly the two men behind him clamped up, finding the atmosphere awkward for some reason.

As for Jaune, he was almost ready to shit himself.

"You owe me a favour kid, especially after what I did for you. That's what we agreed on. Wasn't it?"

Jaune nodded rapidly.

"Ah, yeahyeah! Totally, I didn't forget."

"Good. But just in case, let me remind you of our little deal."

Jaune felt his heart pound away like a series of cannons going off. It was only through the tight grip of the twins that he didn't fall backwards off of his seat.

"I forged your paperwork only because I thought to humour your request. I certainly didn't expect you to actually make it. But. On the off chance you did, you agreed that you would owe me one favour. Any favour that I ask for. Do you remember this? Or do I need to go fishing inside your brains to pull that little bit out?" He pressed the gun harder into his skull, and he winced as the metal began to cut into his flesh.

"No, I remember! Crystal clear!"

"Good. Then I have a little request for you." The gun eased off his skull, and he began to breathe. Albeit, it was in large heaping gasps.

"The Council's been acting really antsy, and conscription is starting to happen everywhere. There's a lot of folks wanting to sign up and die, and that's their choice," he waved off.

"But me? And the people under my employ here? We don't want that," he shook his head before glancing around.

"Right Earl?"

Earl shook his head.

"Nah man. Let those dogs fight it out amongst themselves."

"Girls?" Hei offered.

Melanie scoffed.

"Yeah, hard pass. I don't want to go crawling through mud inside trenches with disease. You Mils?"

"No, I don't think so," she shook her head in disgust also.

Junior's smile was smug. Jaune wanted to glare up at the man, but he was too afraid to upset him again.

"Well, there you have it Jaune. We don't want to be conscripted. And you want to become an officer. What do you think?"

Jaune felt his stomach play gymnastics, but even still he mustered up the courage to ask.

"Why are you doing this?"

Junior scoffed.

"Seriously? You came to literal criminals, and now you're surprised?"

"Nonono!" he shook his head, trying to clarify.

"I mean, why do you want me? Why not just, I dunno, bribe the Council, or the Army. Have them turn a blind eye?"

The twins looked up at Junior, and he met their gaze. To be fair, he did raise a good point.

"I suppose I'd better explain then. It's not that we aren't willing to pay them to look the other way, and more so we can't."

Upon seeing his confused expression, he sighed.

"Look, after that whole terrorist attack a month ago, the Council's been looking for scapegoats to pin this on."

"I thought they were saying Menagerie did this?!"

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain how the bomb got in. Someone had to have smuggled it in somehow, and right now, the council's looking to make examples and clean house right now. Me coming along with a wadful of money just paints a target on us. It's suicide to make ourselves known to them. Better to stay under the radar."

Jaune supposed that made sense. Coming out to bribe officials to turn a blind eye to them as good as announced they were probably criminals.

"We still can pay off recruiters if they come searching, but if they issue a national draft, even our numbers will eventually come up."

The mood was somber after those words. Things must have been getting pretty heated outside of the military base to have conscription coming into effect, Jaune realized.

"So, here's what you're going to do," Junior suddenly said.

"Worm your way into some officer's good grace and make connections. Good ones. The higher ranked the better."

Jaune didn't like where this was going.

"Once you do that, make sure that we don't get any draft notices. And if we do, that we're listed as medically unfit or something."

Okay, but how was he supposed to do that? He voiced as such.

"I don't care," Junior shook his head mercilessly.

"Suck dick of every rank until you hit General for all I care. But you better believe me when I say if we get a draft notice? Then the truth about your forged documents is going to come out, and it won't be pretty. And just in case you're thinking of damage control, let me give you a little reminder," he added upon seeing Jaune's contemplative, albeit nervous, expression.

"If the VSDF or Council catches wind that you have forged documents, they're going to assume you're a Faunus spy."

"But I'm not even a faunus?!" he protested.

Junior rolled his eyes.

"Not as in a literal faunus. As in you've been recruited, and are compromised."

He let the words hang in the air for a tense moment, and it didn't take long for Jaune's eyes to widen in horror as he realized the implications.

"Yeah. You'll be screwed big time. So?"

He leaned back and watched Jaune. The blonde haired kid looked like a nervous wreck as he realized the implications of what he was now caught up in.

"We got an understanding?"

Jaune looked up at him.

"Uh. Yes, Junior."

He grunted.

"Good. The twins will see you out to your 'friends'. However real you believe them to be."

He let himself be practically dragged out the door by the two. He was in too catatonic a state to resist as they guided him to the bar where his friends were currently seated. And getting wasted.

Russel fell off the seat with a loud thud, not even attempting to stop his fall.

Very wasted, he winced.

"Hey Jauuuune," came a very drunk Cardin.

He wanted to ask how on Remnant he was so drunk so quickly, but the stack of EIGHT beers greeted him. That answered that he supposed.

The twins escorted him to the bar and sat him down before taking seats of their own next to him.

"Did I ever tell you how greaaaaaaaaaaaaat you areeeeeeeeeeeeeeee?!" he drawled out, flinging his arms out wide in a fluid but exaggerated motion.

One of his limbs struck Sky square on the face, and the guy flipped over his seat, straight onto the floor.

He jumped up, a wild look in his eyes, his cheeks flushed.

"Huh?! Who?! What! COME ON MOTHERFUCKERS! I'LL FIGHT YOU ALL!" he bellowed out, swinging his arms wildly as he fought off some invisible opponent.

Unfortunately, that opponent inadvertently turned out to become Amber when his fist clumsily struck her in the back of the head, knocking her forward into the bar.

She caught herself, more surprised than angry.

With a hiss, she pushed herself off before taking one look Sky. And proceeding to throw every ounce of her strength through her fist and into his face. She decked her drunken teammate square in the face.

Okay, maybe she is a bit angry, Jaune realized as Sky fell like a bag of bricks straight onto the ground. He was out cold.

Miltia chuckled.

"You keep interesting company, Jaune~."

He felt an idle finger of hers trace the sleeve of his arm. A chill travelled up his spine.

Melanie let her hand slide down his right shoulder to rest on his right hand, and she gave him a coy look.

Amber sent a look his way, before scowling. She chugged another glass of beer away.

Cardin stood up, holding his fresh beer up high in the air. It sloshed in the glass, its contents foaming over the rim and spilling onto both him and the ground.

The Instructor's gonna kill us, Jaune cringed.

"A toast!" Cardin proclaimed wildly. "To perhaps the smartest son of a bitch I know!"

Melanie snorted, and Jaune felt a blow to his intelligence with that.

"Really now?" played Miltia, propping an elbow onto the counter before leaning her head lazily on her hand. Her hair flowed down as she met his gaze.

"I guess the uniform isn't just for show then?"

"No it's nottttt," Cardin drawled, crashing back down onto his seat.

Dove leaned back slightly, a grimace on his face as he watched his friend drool.

"Cardin, I think you've had a little too much to drink."

Cardin slowly turned around on his seat, leaning into Dove's face.

He stabbed a finger into Dove's chest.

"It's sir. Call me sir!" he hiccupped, stabbing his pointer finger into Dove's chest to enunciate each word.

"You see these?" he jutted his shoulder into his face, revealing the shoulder patch and epaulette with an embroidered double V on them.

"I earned these!"

Dove sighed.

"Yes, sir. Gods you're even more of an ass when you're drunk," he muttered under his breath. "Sir," he added when Cardin looked like he was about to throw hands.

"Hey Jaune, as another NCO, can you do something about him?" he suddenly called out.

Oh right. I got promoted too. He remembered.

"Oh? Is that what these fancy stripes are?" exclaimed Miltia.

Melanie rolled her eyes.

"Planning your move already I see, Mils."

Miltia shrugged.

"What can I say. I like a man in a uniform. Especially one already working his way up the ranks," she winked.

Sheesh. Talk about forward much.

"So, have you given our offer any consideration? How you're going to do it?"

Ah. The whole befriend an officer gig.

His lips thinned as he tried to subtly shrug Melanie off. She refused to budge.

"What offer?"

Amber narrowed her eyes as she returned her focus back to Jaune.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing," he waved off quickly. Too quickly.

The twins noticed. They locked eyes together before grinning mischievously.

"Oh, you don't know?"

"He didn't tell you?"

Jaune felt his heart plummet.

Oh no. They were going to reveal his forgeries?! No, think Jaune. They won't do that. That's blackmail to hold over you!

That realization didn't do his mood nor spirits any wonders.

"Tell me what…?" Amber's eyes narrowed to pin picks as she sipped on her beer.

Jaune laughed awkwardly.

"Ah ha! There's nothing to talk about!"

"Oh? So all that talk about having fun with the big bad General was a lie?"

Miltia looked hurt.

Melanie pouted.

Amber looked confused.

"Wait, what? General?"

Jaune blinked. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad.

"Hmm, yes," Melanie nodded sagely.

Miltia sighed dreamily.

"And after the things we heard."

"Yeah. The way you could use that tongue of yours so magically, both with words and on the body."

"Grk!" Jaune froze, and for some reason he looked up to Amber for support.

She regarded him strangely.

"And after we heard your talk about how you plan to go about things." Miltia shuddered giddily.

Jaune shuddered in terror.

Melanie caught the way Amber seemed to tense, and she chose that moment to wrap both hands around Jaune's bicep.

She whispered huskily.

"We never realized you were into such things, you dirty boy."

"I… what?!" Jaune recoiled. He looked at Amber, the only one who seemed to be sober enough and not preoccupied with drunk teammates.

HELP ME GODS DAMMIT!

Alas, Amber was of no help. Her lips thinned.

"You know, I'm not gonna lie. Hearing about how you plan to suck a General off is kinda hot."

Amber's brain screeched to a halt.

Whaaaaaaaat?!

Any anger she felt dissipated as she looked at Jaune in new light.

Jaune felt his mind screech to a halt. Whatever he was expecting her to say, that was not it.

"Jaune. Are you… gay?" Amber chewed her bottom lip. Had she perhaps misread him?

Jaune gaped at her, then at Miltia, and then back her again like a fish.

"That-I'm – what?!"

Miltia leaned forward into him, as did Melanie.

Amber flushed with embarrassment.

"I'm not gay!" Jaune screeched.

Cardin perked his head up, while Amber shook her head.

This was too much for her to wrap her head around.

Miltia locked eyes with Amber as she teased.

"Oh, I doubt our little Corporal here is gay. But, he could be?"

Amber chewed her bottom lip.

Jaune was her friend. What he chose to do was ultimately his decision. But still, it hurt to learn so much about her friend. Especially after all they'd done so far. Did he… did he not trust her enough? Were they not best friends?

Did he not like her?

That thought had her retract into herself, confused and scared.

"You know, if you need some practice, perhaps I can give you a little lesson and demonstration later, Corporal Arc," Miltia smiled slyly before casting a glance over her shoulder to Amber. Melanie joined her.

Jaune looked ready to pass out as he squirmed under their grip.

Amber tried to ignore her words, but it was becoming increasingly hard to. She didn't really need to hear that. So why wasn't Jaune saying something? Did he perhaps view them as better friends?

Gah, this is too confusing. She was too confused. About this situation. About Jaune. About herself. Maybe she needed some space.

Her heart demanded she speak up.

Instead, she pushed herself off of her stool and stood up. She cast Jaune a strange look that bordered half on uncertainty, and half apologetic.

"I-I think I'm going to return back to base," she muttered.

Miltia peeled herself off of Jaune, and Melanie was quick to follow suite.

"Ah, I suppose we've had our fun. We might get his hopes up," Melanie chuckled.

Miltia nodded as she stood up.

Instead of leaving, however, she draped an arm around his shoulders, her fingers dangling under his chin as she leaned in. It was just the three of them. No-one else was watching right now.

"Remember our little deal, Corporal Arc. You owe us."

A razor sharp blade shot out from her gauntlet. It tickled under his chin.

"If you happen to forget that, then we might just forget that to keep our hands to ourselves."

With a blade pressing against his throat, her words were hardly as suggestive as she seemed to make them out to be. He got the message crystal clear.

Amber helped drag Cardin out of the club, while Dove helped escort Russel and Sky. Both were as drunk as Cardin, and both required as much guidance as him to even walk straight.

With the twins now giving him some breathing room, Jaune bolted up right, slamming his hands down onto the counter nervously.

"Thanks for your hospitality!" he offered weakly, already eying the exit.

He made to leave when the sound of someone coughing to get his attention made him freeze.

Junior walked out of the room, eying the mess Jaune's teammates had made.

"And where do you think you're going right now?"

"I mean, I need to get back and work on that whole favour thing, right?"

The barkeep crossed his arms, shooting Junior a look.

"He hasn't paid his tab. Or the tab for anyone else…" he mentioned ominously.

Jaune did not like the way everyone in the bar seemed to suddenly tense up and look at him.

He turned around for backup from his friends, only to find them suddenly gone, with Dove literally just exiting out the front doors in a panic.

Oh, you sons of bitches…

And now he stood there, with not a lien to his name, and ten angry men in black suits with red ties watching him intently. Junior placed a hand inside his jacket, and his eyes widened.

Miltia grimaced, while Melanie tutted mockingly. Junior's eyes narrowed.

"Do you mean to tell me you aren't going to pay now?"

That wasn't a question. That was a warning. Jaune could tell, and he gulped nervously. Against his better judgement, he thought to at least try.

"Um, let's maybe work something out?"

Junior's eyes narrowed.

"Oh? Another favour perhaps?" suggested Melanie giddily.

Miltia pursed her lips contemplatively.

"Hmm, that seems very tempting Jaune~."

The way her blades seemed to glimmer ominously in the light had him sweating nervously.

Qrow stared in the mirror, taking a good look at himself.

Damn, I look good, smirked the eternal bachelor, his hair messy and face unshaven as his button-up shirt remained untucked. Harbinger rested over his shoulder.

Piles of trash surrounded him.

Reaching into his pocket, he fished out his scroll.

Time to update the 'ole profile pic. He thought as opened up a dating app.

He aimed the scroll at the mirror, and tilted his head back to juuuust the right angle.

Chicks dug cool and sexy right? This had to work this time. Right? Right?!

The scroll flashed as he snapped a picture. Right as the door to his apartment slammed open.

He startled, and a blonde kid in a green military uniform barged through.

"What the fu-?!"

He turned around to watch in confusion the scrawny runt quickly slam the door shut, fiddling with some locks before stopping to listen for something. He breathed a sigh of relief, before then slumping down on to the floor.

"You know, most people knock before entering a place kid," Qrow began.

The kid jumped to his feet with a yelp.

"Who are you?!" he screamed, pointing an accusing finger in his direction.

Qrow tilted his head, flexing his fingers on the hilt of Harbinger.

"Kid, this is my place. I believe I should be asking you that."

"You live in this shithole?"

His eye twitched.

"That's not nice. Care to repeat that?" he asked slowly.

The blonde, undeterred, repeated.

"I said do you live in this shithole?"

His eye twitched again. After a second, the kid's eyes went wide as it clicked.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say that! I've just had a really rough couple of days, a-and now there's a bunch of angry people after me."

Qrow rolled his eyes, beginning to approach.

"Gee, I wonder why."

He knelt down to the kid, poking him with his finger.

"Doesn't explain why you chose my apartment."

"Oh, it was the nearest," he explained as if that, well, explained everything.

Qrow regarded him. Fair enough he supposed.

He sat down next to the kid who seemed to be calming down.

"Well, I too know all about rough days, kid. By the way, you got any beer on you?" It never hurt to ask.

"Uh, what? No?"

Ah well, shame he supposed.

"Tsk. Nevermind. Thought I'd ask is all. It's the least you could do if you're going to break into a guy's place."

Jaune stared at him in confusion.

"So. Care to explain what's going on and who's after you?"

Might as well get a story out of this. Who knows, if it was entertaining enough maybe he'd only kick him out of the place instead of beat the guy up for breaking and entering.

"Ah, I may have gotten a little in over my head," Jaune replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his blonde hair.

Upon Qrow's silence, he elaborated.

"In my defense, it's my teammates fault! They're the ones who ditched me to pick up the tab. A tab I had no idea about," he growled. Some friends his teammates were he huffed angrily.

Ah. Barkeep problems. Qrow winced. He could sympathise.

"So what's the getup for. You a cosplayer, or you legit?" Qrow gestured to the uniform. Jaune glanced down at it.

"Oh, yeah. I'm currently in basic training with my teammates. My best friends forever teammates," he grit out.

"We just finished a camp assessment out in the woods a couple days ago and scored first place, so we got permission to leave for the city tonight and get some R ." Jaune was proud to say he was picking up on the military lingo.

Qrow nodded in approval.

"Nice."

Jaune smiled bashfully.

"Yeah, it is. Sorta. At the very least it's nice to get a break from our instructor. Plus, Amber was desperate for this," he chuckled.

Qrow's ears perked.

"Amber?" he asked.

"Ah, my teammate. Er, one of them," he explained.

He fished for his own scroll in his pocket. Military issued it might be, that didn't mean one couldn't take pictures with it. Following their successful assessment, they had all taken a group picture together.

Qrow leaned over to get a better look at the picture Jaune was showing.

It showed six people dressed in military gear and covered in grime. One of them was clearly Jaune, judging by the face and hair.

He, like the others, all wore a tired expression.

Training always sucked. Whether you were a Huntsmen or not, if it didn't suck, then you weren't doing it right.

Qrow's eyes scanned the image until they settled on the lone girl in the group.

Shoulder-length brown hair, tanned complexion, and innocent eyes stared at him.

Qrow felt his eyes widen and his breath stop.

No way. No fucking way, he thought.

After all this time, he'd finally found her.

He cleared his throat.

"Are they all part of your squad?"

Jaune nodded.

"Yeah. Though right now they're dead to me," he glowered suddenly.

Yeah, forget the kid's drama. He was teammates with Amber. Amber! How lucky was he today?!

After months of her vanishing off the radar on him, and now she finally reappeared. And had apparently enlisted in the VSDF of all places!

Oh, I am so going to give her the biggest lecture of her life for her carelessness, he glowered at the photo, staring at it as if it personally offended him.

"Um, you alright?"

Jaune suddenly asked.

Qrow did a double take. He schooled his expression into a cheery grin. Jaune didn't really buy it.

"Yeah, I'm fine kid," he exclaimed, slinging an arm around Jaune and pulling him close.

"Where abouts are you stationed?"

"Eh? Why do you want to know that?"

Qrow shrugged.

"Oh. I've got a family relative that enlisted, and I can't quite remember which branch they're stationed at right now."

Jaune relaxed.

"Oh, that's fine."

He gave Qrow the location of the military station where his barracks were at. It's not like it was a secret or anything. If anything, it was public knowledge.

Qrow desperately wanted to interrogate the kid right now about Amber. How she was doing, was she alright, what happened and so on. But he restrained himself.

Those questions were better served for Amber directly. And besides. He didn't know where this kid's allegiance was, or if any of the other recruits he was with were compromised.

If they find out she's a Maiden…

No. They wouldn't. He wouldn't allow it.

He shot a Jaune a subtle glance to gauge his reaction. Jaune was staring at him, scrutinizing him.

Shit! Change the topic Qrow!

He cleared his throat.

"Ahem. So you've probably had some crazy adventures already by now then?" he offered Jaune the chance to talk. To get him distracted.

Fortunately, Jaune took the bait.

"Oh tell me about it!"

Qrow waited. Jaune blinked.

Qrow sighed.

"Well I suppose I can share some of mine. Some asshole tried to set me on fire a couple days back, and another tried to kill me," Qrow glanced down at the bloodstained feathers. He still hadn't bothered to clean that up. Ants and flies had arrived to pick the bones clean at this point.

"Woah, really!? Crazy. Had some lunatic come into our camp a couple nights back. He caused a whole bunch of problems for us. Especially Amber."

Qrow nodded along absent-mindedly until he heard the name Amber. He froze.

"Amber?"

"Oh, yeah. Apparently, someone's been stalking her," Jaune explained.

Qrow felt his blood go cold. Had Salem's loyalists already caught up to her?

Jaune took his silence for shock.

Qrow had no idea who this kid really was and if he could trust her, but right now he was his only lead to Amber and knowing what happened.

"Who is it that's after her?!"

Jaune shook his head.

"Ugh. Not quite sure. Apparently there's been this creep following her for a while, and everywhere she goes she can't seem to shake him."

Shit, this was not good at all.

"And then the other night, this crazy guy burst into our camp and tried to assault her."

Qrow's eyes narrowed dangerously.

Whoever this prick is, they're dead when I find them, he vowed.

"What happened," he demanded, his voice dangerous. If Amber was harmed…

Jaune waved his concern off.

"He ended up running off when we confronted him. But he was crazy strong. Cardin and the others reckoned he had Aura."

Yeah, this definitely reeked of Salem.

"Could you describe what he looked like? Any leads whatsoever?"

Jauen frowned.

"It was too dark to see properly. All I know was he was naked."

He was WHAT?!

"What do you mean naked?" Qrow pressed, already disturbed.

"Exactly what I mean! This nutcase came into our camp and was hovering over my teammate. Planning things… But she's strong though," he finished with a weak smile.

Qrow's blood boiled.

Some cretin decided to assault his charge. Not only that, he apparently had aura too. And Amber had been stalked for a while yet?! Oh boy, he was going to have words with her! She was supposed to let him know about these things! Well, up until she decided to run off on him.

"And you reckon it might be the same guy?" he asked. This kid seemed to know a bit more than him.

"I… I don't know actually," Jaune pondered. That was a very good question, and very real possibility. His eyes suddenly wandered.

"Oh god, it might actually make sense. She said that her stalker has been very persistent. That might have been him after all!"

And with his Aura, he was able to give them all the shake. Yeah, this was definitely the guy most likely, Qrow reasoned.

But was it really an agent of Salem, was the question. If it was, then it would make sense to have a woman loyal to that foul witch go after Amber so she could steal the Maiden's powers. Sending a man after her seemed... abnormal. Unless it was about humiliation?

His scowl deepened. Truly that witch knew no bounds to her evil

"Does she know what he looks like?"

"Ah, pretty sure yeah. She's mentioned the guy before. Actually, she gave a name!"

She did?! Well, that would make his search infinitely easier. But that also spoke of a prior encounter.

Holy hell, how lucky had she actually been to come out alive?! He scowled.

And how unlucky had he been to have missed all this.

"What'd she say?" he asked, his voice urgent.

"Oh, um. What was it again? Go? Mo? Mo Bavin? JOE! Joe Bavwin!? Joe Bavin! I'm sure that's it. I think? I'd have to ask her again."

Qrow committed the name to memory. The kid might be off, but it was something at least.

"Look, kid. If you find anything else out, give me a call. This is my scroll number," he whipped it out.

Jaune chuckled nervously.

"Ah, I can't exactly communicate with people outside of training right now."

Qrow stared at the young man with an unbelievable expression.

"What? Why not?! Your friend is being stalked!"

"I'm still in training right now! Our Drill Sergeant confiscated our scrolls weeks ago, and we're issued Army ones which are on a private network. I can't communicate with anyone outside of the Army." said Jaune.

"Then why are you out right now?" Qrow countered, shooting him a skeptical look.

"I just said my teammates and I were granted weekend leave!" he replied hotly.

Oh, right.

"But…" he trailed off, listening to the sound of muffled yelling elsewhere in the apartment and streets.

"Say no more," acknowledged Qrow, remembering the reason why the kid was here in the first place.

"Look, I'll do you a favour and let you out my window if you're wanting to escape whoever is after you. It connects with the alley, and from there I trust you'll be able to find your way back to your barracks or wherever."

Jaune stood up slowly, his eyes hopeful. "Really? You'd do that for me?"

Qrow rubbed his head bashfully. Truthfully it was less for him, and more because he was more valuable alive and in one piece at this point in time.

"…Yeah, sure. Why not. Buddy." He began to shove the kid to the window.

"Now, it's only a small drop. If you let your legs bounce you'll absorb the impact and won't break anything."

Jaune went wide-eyed as Qrow smashed some more of the glass away.

"Wait, what?!"

"Quick question" he asked suddenly, looking Jaune dead in the eye. Jaune noticed how red his irises were.

"Do you have Aura?"

"Uh, what is that?"

Qrow shoved him out the window, and Jaune flailed as he tumbled in the air before crashing into a garbage bin underneath with a loud crash. A cat could be heard screaming, attracting a dog locked in an apartment below. It began to bark loudly.

"…Maybe I should have waited," Qrow realized awkwardly before rushing to peer over the window down below.

Jaune could be seen groaning and shifting stiffly as he lay sprawled on his back, covered in trash.

"Eh, he'll live," Qrow reasoned. Besides, he had bigger more important things to worry about right now.

With Jaune gone out of the apartment, Qrow recalled the conversation he had just had. Reaching into his pocket, he produced his scroll and began to dial a number. It buzzed for a few seconds before connecting.

"Oz, it's me. I've found the Maiden again…."

There was a pause as he listened to the voice on the other end. He took a deep breath.

"Listen, I'm gonna need you to do me a favour…"

Line Break

Come the next morning and everyone received instructions to attend parade. That meant full ceremonial dress, clean-shaven, and everything polished to a shine.

Cardin clutched his head, nursing the hangover from yesterday.

Russel and Sky were no better. Even Amber looked a little tired.

None of the other recruits offered them any sympathy. Truly, jealousy was a bane to their existence. Or in Jaune's case, drunken teammates who thought it acceptable to abandon him. He was still sour about that.

"Ugh, my head hurts," Cardin groaned.

"Well, that's what you get for drinking to excess." Amber still had enough energy to chastise them fully.

"Shaddup," he groaned, buttoning up his uniform.

"Anyways, what happened. My head's all fuzzy."

Sky strode over, tucking in his own uniform. His face was swollen and bruised from where Amber had decked him. "Yeah, what happened."

Amber shot Sky a pointed glare. "You tried to fight me. Russel passed out." She directed her attention Cardin.

"You tried to outdrink me, but failed horribly."

Russel whistled.

"Damn. You lost to a girl bro."

"Oh shaddup," Cardin snapped.

Silence followed.

Amber looked over at Jaune. She pursed her lips nervously.

"Hey, Jaune. About last night. Are you…?" she trailed off uncertainly. She didn't want to say it.

Jaune glanced her way.

"Am I…?"

She frowned, looking around.

"You know," she tried.

Jaune deadpanned at her. "No, I don't know."

Oh well, at least she tried to be subtle. Besides, it couldn't be that bad. It was mentioned in front of the others last night. And it wasn't like she had anything against it if he was…

"Are you, well, gay?"

Everyone stopped what they were doing collectively and sent her a strange look.

She winced under the sudden scrutiny.

"Well, last night, when you were talking. You said you were gay."

Almost instantly, all eyes flipped to him, and Jaune felt his own bug out incredulously as he leaned over his bunk to put a boot on.

"What?!" was the collective response.

"WHAT?! screamed Jaune, just as confused.

Sky looked at him strangely.

"Dude, we showered together…."

Jaune stared at him incredulously.

"What does that have to do with anything!? Amber!" He snapped. "I am not gay!"

It was Cardin who came to his defense.

"Yeah, no way Jauney's gay? He had two chicks clinging to him last night, remember?"

Amber hadn't forgotten that, as much as she wished she had.

"Look, it doesn't matter," she shook her head.

"Uh, yes it does? You can't just leave us on a cliffhanger like that! Details! Spill them!" Russel demanded.

"Look, we don't have time," she snapped, gesturing to the recruits already finished getting dressed and leaving for the parade grounds.

"Let's get something straight here," Jaune stood up, clearing his voice.

"I am not gay. Nor have I ever been."

Everyone looked at him, but it was Amber who broke the silence.

"Well, you were talking about sucking off a General though?" she mumbled.

Cardin's jaw dropped.

Jaune wanted to claw his eyes out.

"I never said that! Miltia said that!" he exclaimed.

"Look, it's okay," Amber said softly, even if she was a little hurt.

"No-one here cares if you are. I just thought that, considering we were friends you'd have bothered to share that with me is all."

Jaune stared at her incredulously.

"Why would I want to share something like that?! I like girls! I like comics! I like video games!" he proclaimed.

Cardin frowned.

"You know, that's kinda what someone who is gay would say."

"I AM NOT GAY!"

Cardin waved his hands placatingly.

"Hey hey. Like Amber said, it's fine. Got no problems there." He shot her a glare, however.

"Though clearly someone needs to learn to respect other's privacy."

It was Amber's turn for her jaw to drop.

"What? He literally proclaimed it out loud for all of us at the club last night!"

The parade bell buzzed out for all to hear.

Cardin finished straightening out his uniform before placing his beret on.

"Look, we'll have to finish this conversation later."

"There's nothing to finish!" Jaune screamed as he ran after them to the parade line.

By now, it was time to fall in line and be silent however.

As everyone formed up in five rows of five, they stood at attention.

Cardin stood as the right marker, with Jaune next in line. Amber stood next to him, and then Dove and Sky.

The Instructor slowly emerged from the nearby admin building, with a tall, lanky man keeping pace.

The two came to a stop in front of them all.

Jaune could not believe what he was staring at, and it took considerable effort to keep his jaw from falling off.

The Instructor's guest narrowed his red eyes at him imperceptibly before shifting his attention elsewhere to the small division.

All of the recruits were currently standing at attention on parade while the Instructor stood at the front. And with him, dressed in white dress shirt that was untucked, and grey pants stood Qrow.

Hands in his pocket, hair messy, and a faint line of stubble that was clearly irritating the Instructor if the disapproving glares were any indicator.

Jaune so desperately wanted to ask what the hell was going on. But he also was disciplined (read: scared) enough to hold his tongue until the Instructor spoke.

"Recruits! Listen up. This is Major Branwen. Due to special circumstances, he will be partaking in your education for the final weeks of this course!"

Everyone looked at the tall, wiry man who was standing there casually, a massive mechashift sword on his back.

Qrow stared back. He offered a small wave. "…'Sup."

Chapter Text

Arc 1: Chapter 6

Qrow stared out at the uniformed men and women before him. He could see Jaune standing in the front row. And right next to him stood the person he was trying to find all this time. Amber.

Her face briefly flashed panic, and she quickly tried to smooth it out. She recognized him.

Good. Not that he was trying to be overly subtle.

"Now, I am certain you all have questions. Major Branwen is a Huntsman first and foremost," the Instructor enunciated, and it wasn't lost on anyone that he was also explaining this to Branwen.

"Therefore, what he will bring to the table in terms of skill and education is different to what the VSDF provides."

Qrow's eyes narrowed. Was he trying to diminish him in front of everyone? The Instructor continued.

"Remember recruits. While he has advice to offer, the VSDF provides an approved curriculum of training that is based on the results of the past 100 years of rigorous testing." He side-eyed Qrow. "You are not obligated to adhere to his every suggestion."

"Thank you, Major Ballsin. As a fellow Major however, what I offer to you isn't just suggestions, but evidence based learning built upon a century of blood, sweat and tears."

Two could play at this game.

Ballsin's eye narrowed.

"Be that as it may, Major Branwen is here as an advisor. While you will still respect is authority, remember that I am your Commanding Officer."

"And remember," Qrow chimed in, sending the Major a side-eyed glare of his own. "As an advisor, my specialized training and experience might be what saves your life in the future."

He shifted his glare to study each and every one of the recruits faces.

Some flinched under his sharp gaze. Jaune stood tall.

"Remember, it's important to keep an open mind in the field. Don't let yourself be trapped by dogmatic tradition."

The Instructor twitched irritably. "Tradition that has served countless generations of fighters, ensuring their survivability, and effectiveness on the battlefield. And off of it."

Oh yeah. Jaune, like nearly everyone else, could pick up that there was obviously a feud between the two Majors. Speaking of, Jaune still couldn't believe the man he had just met recently in a crummy apartment was actually a Major in the VSDF. And a Huntsman to boot?

"Now, I suppose a quick breakdown is in order for those of you who are no doubt confused," began Qrow.

"As you may or may not be aware, all Huntsmen in Vale have been conscripted into an auxilliary branch of the VSDF. As of the past eight months, we're part of the military, same as you guys. Only, we offer a more specialized skillset."

The Instructor snorted. A rare display of derision, and one aimed solely at the newly introduced Major. Qrow ignored him

"Huntsmen are fast-tracked to the rank of Major if they are an already graduated team-leader, or have over ten years experience. Juniors are automatically assigned the rank of Corporal, while Academy undergraduates will often rise to the rank of Lieutenant."

Instructor Ballsin shook his head with thin lips.

"An absolutely appalling decision."

Qrow grimaced.

"I have to agree with Instructor Ballsin here. Huntsmen, while certainly a force to be reckoned with, are not provided a formal military education here in Vale."

His hands slipped out of his pockets and folded behind his back.

"There has never been a need for our militarization. But because of this war escalating, you will often find yourselves serving alongside, and often times under a Huntsman. Or even a team of Huntsmen."

Though most recruits hid it well, there was an undercurrent of disgruntlement. They were effectively being told their lives would be in the hands of super-powered people who had a minimal reality touch with actual military and their procedures.

"As such, you will need to learn to work with them, and understand how they operate," Qrow continued.

A hand shot up from the back ranks. The Instructor looked ready to throw a fit. Qrow cut him off.

"What's your question kid?"

Not recruit. Kid. Major Branwen's lax attitude was telling.

The recruit, some brown-haired and freckled boy the same age as Jaune spoke.

"Uh, sir. Why are Huntsmen assigned the rank of Major then?"

All eyes were on Qrow as he sighed. Major Ballsin grimaced as he knew what his fellow Major was about to say.

"Because the VSDF has a major shortage of personnel, including officers who can take charge directly in the field."

That didn't seem like the worst answer, Jaune thought. But Qrow wasn't finished.

"Prior to the attack in Vale City, the VSDF numbered 48,000 across all branches. After the attack?"

Jaune felt his chest tighten as he anticipated the answer.

"The VSDF numbers about 22,000 troops. About a third of all officers were killed. And that's left a major hole in Vale's defensive capabilities."

A few heads began to swivel around, looking at each other uncertainly.

Everyone knew the attack was bad. But to hear that Vale had lost such a significant portion of its military? That was beyond concerning.

Instructor Ballsin stepped up, silencing those who thought to voice their concerns.

"Most of the troop casualties were reservists living here in the city. The majority of our Active Duty personnel are still operational, but it will take time to fill the gaps."

Qrow nodded, adding his own two lien.

"As you may or may not be aware, conscription has already begun, and it's only going to ramp up in the coming weeks."

Instructor Ballsin sent a proud look their way, something very rare to see form the otherwise terminally angry man.

"Fortunately, there have been many brave men who have stepped up without needing to be directed. And I am looking at some of them."

He let the words sink in, and some of the recruits felt their egos swell. They were the ones who chose to serve. They were the ones who were going to make a difference.

"Vale currently has a little over 1200 active Huntsmen," Qrow continued.

"And with the way talks are going, there's probably going to be another 400 or so coming out of retirement."

1600 Huntsmen and Huntresses. That was simultaneously a lot, and also not very many in the grand scheme of things.

Vale had roughly 2000 at any given time. But once you took away casualties and retirees, that number dropped. Add to the fact that they would often be spread thin throughout the Kingdom, and now that number seemed less impressive.

And of those, how many were still needed to counter the Grimm? Vale simply couldn't afford to pull every single Huntsman into the war. Many would still be needed to serve and protect the communities from their ever-present threat.

Sure, there were pre-academy dropouts who readily doubled those numbers, and even unlicensed Huntsmen who were apprenticed under certified ones. Not to mention local militias in distant communities. But they were essentially budget Huntsmen at best. And liabilities at worst.

"If you don't have any more questions, then you're all dismissed until later today. Instructor Ballsin will keep you busy until I'm ready for you. This was just to make our acquaintances known is all," Major Branwen commented idly

The Instructor looked ready to tear his fellow Major's throat out with how informal the man was speaking. It seemed to go against the very professionalism that the VSDF stood for. If you included the rampant swearing and threats that the Instructor saw fit to issue all the time.

Unfortunately, there wasn't anything he could do.

Out the corner of his eye, Jaune caught Major Branwen staring at Amber.

The rest of the day passed by rather uneventfully. Or at least as uneventful as a day in bootcamp could. There was plenty to always do, and the Instructor certainly had no qualms in chewing people out and dishing out unusual punishments.

By the time the day ended, everyone was ready to collapse into their bunks in pure exhaustion.

Jaune flopped down on his bunk, while Cardin went face-first into his.

"Man, the Instructor really has it out for us," winced Russel, nursing his shoulder.

Dove side-eyed him through a pillow.

"You. He has it out for you, Russel."

"But why man?"

Cardin propped his head up. "Are you really asking that stupid of a question?"

Russel's face scrunched up as he slid under his covers. "You guys are assholes…"

Jaune snorted. "Hardly. You're the one that keeps bringing us bad luck. Right Amber?" He twisted his head to look over at her.

She had her back to them as she sat on her bunk. Plain white T-shirt and green pyjama shorts. It was as Spartan as it could be, with the only decoration being the VSDF emblem emblazoned across the front.

She startled slightly as her name was called, looking around in confusion.

"Huh, what?"

Jaune repeated his statement, shooting her a quizzical look.

"Oh, yeah," she agreed quickly.

Jaune frowned. "Hey, Amber. Are you alright? You've been kinda off all day…."

She offered him a weak smile. His concern was touching.

"Thanks Jaune, but I'm alright." She wasn't. Her mind was ablaze, and she was a nervous wreck.

Why is he here now! This isn't fair!

She inhaled slowly. No. It was unfair to her teammates to let them worry over her. She would be fine.

"Hey, how come Jaune gets thanks!" protested Sky.

"Because I'm blonde," Jaune deadpanned.

Everyone burst into laughter while Sky was left sulking.

Still, Jaune didn't buy Amber's excuse. He could tell. Having seven sisters let him be very astute when it came to understanding when a woman was bothered by something.

Oh well, he yawned. Guess I'll just have to keep an eye on her.

Major Branwen offered many theory lessons on how Huntsmen were trained and operated, and even discussed their versatility. Mechashift weapons especially seemed interesting, and while Crocea Mors scabbard could unfold into a shield, it certainly wasn't as cool or impressive as Harbinger. It was a scythe which doubled as a sword. AND a gun! Of course Jaune was impressed.

What he was less impressed by was the lack of excitement in his lessons compared to the Drill Instructor's. If anything, he let the older man take charge and continue with their regular training, only offering supplementary advice where needed.

He always remained present, though. He hid in the back corners of the room when he wasn't standing around at the front. For some reason he seemed to always hover near Amber. And she always seemed to flinch away and avoid contact whenever he tried to speak to her.

His presence was a curiosity at first, but after the first few days, it went mostly ignored.

So it was following a session at the range that something more intriguing happened. As they marched inside to the chow hall, Major Branwen began to approach them. Specifically Amber.

She seemed reluctant as he guided her off to a nearby stair-well, passing several lockers and a nearby storage cabinet. The stale white lights overhead kept the place well lit.

"You coming Jaune?" beckoned Dove as he and the rest of his teammates entered the cafeteria, the double doors swinging open as they filed in. The smell of cheap food wafted through, and Jaune felt his stomach churn at the odour.

The food here was weapon's grade. It wouldn't hurt to miss out on that slop one time. Jaune waved him off.

"I'll be there in a sec."

Dove shrugged.

"Okay. Don't take too long though. Instructor's gonna smoke you if you end up late to formation."

"I won't," Jaune returned a smile before following the Major. It was unprofessional, and downright worthy of getting an Article 15 for, but something was up.

Amber certainly seemed off these last few days. And something didn't seem to add up. Amber was acting weird. And that his brotherly instincts kicking into gear. It was probably nothing. Hopefully.

As he approached the stair well, he could hear the two speaking just out of sight. The exchange seemed heated.

"…and you need to come back."

That sounded like Major Branwen talking.

"I don't want to leave! I came here so I could live my own life!"

Amber sounded quite upset.

He frowned as he stopped at the corner. He peered around slowly.

Amber was pacing at the base of the stairs, while Qrow stood blocking the doorway. He leaned an arm across to support himself on the frame.

"Amber," he sighed, frustrated. "You're being ridiculous."

"How?! How am I being ridiculous for wanting to get away from you and all of this bullshit!"

"What you're doing is dangerous, Amber."

"How? You already found me, so it's not like things could get any worse," she spat.

"They apparently can, because now I hear you telling your 'so-called' friends you've been stalked apparently."

"Yeah, by you," she hissed, crossing her arms with angrily.

Major Branwen exhaled slowly, trying to maintain his composure.

"Quit being stupid. I'm trying to look out for you and do what's best for you."

She wheeled on him, an accusatory glare in her eyes.

"By tracking me all the way down here? Please. Just stop. You can't keep doing this to me."

As Jaune eavesdropped, he felt his brows climb higher and higher with each sentence.

What's going on?

Amber's ranting suddenly stopped as she made eye contact with him. Major Branwen noticed her pause and instantly cast a glance his way.

Jaune made to duck to cover. Too late. The Major saw him, and was upon him in several long and sudden strides.

"Arc. How much of that did you hear?" he hissed out suddenly.

"Qrow! Leave him out of this!" Amber snapped, chasing him down.

"Stay out of this Amber," he shot.

By now, Jaune had his back pressed against the closet door, Qrow looming over him.

Qrow? His name's Qrow? But didn't she say her stalker was…?

His eyes widened in realization. THIS was Qrow Branwen?!

Holy shit holy shit! His mind raced.

"You're Qrow Branwen…" he gaped. Stalker, creep and deplorable. He didn't say that part aloud.

Qrow's eyes narrowed as he stared the blonde young man down.

"You gonna answer me, kid?"

"Qrow!" Amber snapped harshly. Qrow's head snapped towards her.

"Go return back to Instructor Ballsack or whatever his name is. Kid and I need to have a private conversation."

"But-"

"That's an order, Amber." His tone brooked no argument.

With an irritated pout, and huff to her breath, she stormed to the galley. Jaune froze as he found himself alone with perhaps one of the worst types of people to be around. He felt his blood turn cold.

Major Branwen. Qrow Branwen. He was Amber's stalker.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Because of course it did! Amber had literally mentioned his name on their first day here.

"I'll make it an order kid. What are you doing?"

And now the man was abusing his authority to prey on her once again. The sick pervert!

Qrow watched him intently.

Mum always said to be brave. He took a deep breath, and with as much breavado as he could muster, he hardened his eyes. He could care less if the man was a Major or even the head General himself! He had to do something. For Amber's sake.

"I know," he said. Qrow tilted his head.

"Hmm?"

"I know," Jaune repeated through grit teeth. "About you. And about Amber." He met Qrow's eyes defiantly.

Qrow faltered. His eyes began to widen.

Shit, he knows about the Maiden?!

"Aha. What are you talking about, Jaune?" he tried to correct himself, but his slip was telling. Jaune saw it all. Qrow's reaction all but confirmed it in Jaune's eyes.

"I won't let any more harm come to her." He jutted his chin out.

"So…" he took a deep breath. "You can back right off from my friend. Or I'll expose you."

Qrow stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

He knows about my mission?! Bu that was impossible.

However he had as good as confirmed he already knew about Amber. This put him in a bit of a pickle right now.

Without any hesitation, Qrow slammed a hand around Jaune's mouth and threw open the storage closet before throwing him in. He jumped in right behind him, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

To the outside world, it looked as if no-one existed in the hallway.

Meanwhile, in the tight confines of the storage cabinet that reeked of chemicals, Jaune felt himself unable to even move or scream as Qrow kept his mouth muzzled shut.

Oh shit, I shouldn't have confronted him! He panicked, but it was too late. The older man kept a vice-like grip on him.

He could barely see in here, with only a few cracks of light penetrating through the wooden door slats. Even then, it was only a rough shape. This was bad. This was really bad!

Meanwhile, Qrow felt his heart beating wildly.

He needed to get this kid to stay quiet about Amber. And figure out how exactly he knew about the Maidens in the first place!.

"Who are you really, Jaune?" he grit out.

"And HOW do you know?!"

Jaune's muffled cries as he squirmed and flailed in Qrow's grip prevented him from answering. His hand smacked Qrow's shoulder, sending him bouncing back into the closed cabinet door. It rattled loudly, but remained shut.

Qrow grit his teeth.

Dammit. He needed this Jaune guy to stop freaking out.

"Look, calm down. Just, stop moving and freaking out will ya?!"

Jaune's muffled screams tapered off, leaving him breathing heavily.

Qrow winced in the tight space. It was pretty loud to his ears.

"There. I'm going to remove my hand. And you're not going to scream. Got it?"

Jaune nodded slowly, his eyes still fearful.

Okay. Good.

He began to loosen his grip and peel back his fingers.

Jaune screamed.

It lasted only a split second before Qrow clamped back again.

"SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" He whisper yelled. "You promised you wouldn't do that?!"

Teeth sank into his ring finger. Even with aura up to protect him from injury, it still hurt.

"Ah fuck!" he cursed aloud. Jaune's panicked wail was about to ramp up, and fearing the worst, Qrow acted. By driving his forehead right into the kid's nose.

Jaune's panicked scream became a measured grunt instead as his vision swam. He fell backwards against the wall, knocking over a bucket and mop.

It fell with a clatter.

Jaune didn't move.

Qrow felt his eyebrows skyrocket.

"Shit. You alright? I wasn't too hard was I?" He didn't mean to hit the kid that hard, but he wasn't going to stop screaming.

Jaune groaned slowly, clutching his nose. His voice was strained.

"Nrgh. I think you broke something with how hard you hit it."

Jaune still hadn't returned to the mess hall when Amber appeared. A quick round of questions revealed he was with Major Branwen. And why did that name irk him? Something about it seemed familiar, and not at all pleasant.

Save it, a voice inside Russel's head told him as he found himself volunteering to search for and retrieve his teammate.

Which led him to his current predicament.

He was travelling down the hallway, lockers to his right, when he heard it.

A muffled bang from inside the storage closet. He paused. Did he hear that right?

Then he heard something… peculiar. A muffled wail.

Jaune?

It sounded like Jaune.

Silence followed. He approached the closet, curious.

A muffled voice began to speak, but it was hard to make out what was being said.

He leaned close to the door to get a better listen.

Someone within screamed.

He nearly fell over with how loud it was.

As quickly as it started, it stopped.

"Shhhhhhhhhh…. You promised you wouldn't do that…ahh fuck!"

Was that… the Major? Major Branwen?

A voice that definitely sounded like Jaune's, muffled as it was because of the door, groaned. A thump could be heard, and something fell over.

Major Branwen spoke. "Shit…you alright? I wasn't too hard was I?"

Russel's eyebrows shot up at what he was hearing.

Is Jaune…? And the Major?

Jaune could be heard groaning.

"I think you broke something with how hard you hit it…"

Hit it?

His eyes began to widen.

No way. No fucking way. He wasn't prepared to handle this. Slowly, he began to back away.

He needed to process this for a moment. When he put his head back to the door in a couple seconds, what would greet him would not be something as ridiculous as that. Right?

"Now," Qrow began. "How do you know?"

Jaune nursed his nose before glaring up at him.

"Amber told me," he admitted. "She told me everything."

That foolish girl. He shook his head. He'd have to lecture her later about the risks of blabbing like that.

"Okay. I suppose you have questions then?" He'd have to do damage control. But that was fine! He could do this.

"Questions? I don't need answers from you," Jaune hissed, shuffling up against the wall he was leaning on. "Just leave Amber alone!"

What the fuck sort of demand was that?

Qrow shook his head. "Kid, you know I can't do that. You know why!"

Jaune growled. "Yes you will, because I'll protect her!"

Qrow paused. This kid actually wants to protect her? Ignoring the fact of how he was capable of doing that in the first place. He shook his head.

"And how are you going to do that?"Against Salem's best? Qrow snorted He highly doubted that. The kid folded under him just right now.

Jaune stood up slowly. "Like this," he snarled.

Qrow didn't have time to react.

Jaune threw his shin up in between his legs with such force he was sure his balls nearly exploded.

His eyes bugged out as he let out a loud groan of pain. He was in too much shock and pain to even properly scream.

"Awwwwwwwwww!" he doubled over, clutching his family jewels tenderly.

Jaune panted loudly, standing over him as Qrow curled up on to the floor in a fetal position.

"Now you listen here," Jaune began, hissing.

"I'll protect Amber because she's my teammate. Because she's my friend! If anything, I have an obligation to make sure-"

He didn't get to finish as Qrow threw his fist up. Aura-enhanced. Right into Jaune's own nethers.

He squealed in agony before collapsing to his knees trembling.

"…Don't you know," panted Qrow with a snarl, "that it's rude… to do that to a guy?"

Jaune spasmed as he fell on top of him.

Russel looked over his shoulder in unadulterated horror as he heard the screams of both Jaune and Major Branwen echo out from the closet.

He personally didn't buy into the rumour that Jaune was gay. It was most probably just a misunderstanding. That's what he thought anyways.

He might need to re-evaluate that assessment right now. Because those groans and screams coming from within? They didn't sound like just a 'misunderstanding'.

Should I open it? He contemplated. He considered against it as quickly as he thought to do so. Major Branwen was a superior officer. Brother Gods above knows how much trouble he would get in if he walked in on whatever it was they were doing.

It was silent within now. Maybe he should just head back and let the Instructor deal with this one when Jaune inevitably ended up late.

No! He had to go get someone else! They would never believe him otherwise! He needed someone else to confirm what he was hearing. It was important! For science!

Backing away slowly, he ran back to the cafeteria to grab one of his teammates. Amber, Dove. Hell, even Sky would do.

Perhaps the whole team should know? He considered. If he grabbed everyone, then perhaps they could convince him that he was misunderstanding something here.

The most important thing was that he approached this in a calm and delicate manner, and handled it maturely when he told Cardin. It wouldn't do to cause a scene and start a rumour.

It took a solid minute for the pain to recede on both of them, in which time Jaune managed to sit up properly.

"Look. You obviously care for her," Qrow groaned, supporting his upper body on his legs as he hunched over. He looked akin to an old man with the way he supported himself. Though Jaune was hardly one to complain considering he was doing the exact same thing.

He let out a growl. "That's because I do."

"Then you should also know that I am on her side."

Jaune's head shook slowly. "We are not on the same side." No way was he going to let this creep pretend he was on the same side as him! He was Amber's teammate! Her friend!

"Well then, who's side are you on?! You can't be on hers." It wouldn't make sense if he was an agent of Salems.

Hers? Jaune's head spun as he misunderstood who Qrow was actually implying. Of course he was! He vehemently voiced such.

"Of course I'm on her side! Why do you think I'm here?! I'm loyal to her!"

Qrow froze. Did he…? Did he just confess his true allegiance?

He reached for Harbinger slowly.

"You're with Salem?"

Say-who?! He could only adopt a dumb look on his face.

"Who's Salem?"

Russel burst into the cafeteria. All eyes turned to focus on him, and he suddenly felt small.

Breathe, Russel The important thing was not to act impulsively.

With a straight face, he shuffled towards where Cardin and the others were seated.

Amber looked up at him glumly before going back to playing with her food. Her spoon idly traced the oats inside of her bowl, untouched. Not that he could blame her. It was unappetizing on the best of days.

Cardin raised an eyebrow at him as he slid next to him. "Where's Jaune?"

Russel's smile was brittle. "Yeah, about that. I think he may be busy right now."

Amber kept playing with her spoon as she half-heartedly listened. Dove and Sky chuckled at some dumb joke they told each other other.

Cardin furrowed his brow. "Busy how? If he's late to formation, then we're all getting smoked!"

Russel threw his hands up. "Hey, I'd rather not get on Major Branwen's bad side is all."

Amber snorted. "Are they still talking?" she muttered with a surly frown.

Russel's smile was forced and stretched. "Weeeeeellllllll. I'd say they're doing more than talking right now, if you catch my drift."

No-one did.

Cardin squinted at him. "No, I don't. Speak plainly."

Well, I tried to be subtle. He leaned forward conspiratorially, locking eyes with Cardin before shifting his gaze nervously to Amber. She didn't bother to look up.

"I think Jaune's fucking the Major," he whispered.

Amber blew her food clean out of her mouth like a flamethrower spewing flames, and Sky nearly choked on a piece of his food.

"Jaune's WHAT?!" spit-took Cardin, rising from his seat.

All chatter ceased as everyone's eyes spun to face him suddenly.

"Oi, keep it down!" hissed Russel, glancing around the room nervously.

It was Amber who spoke next. "Keep it down?! Russel, what the fuck?! You can't just come in and say that and not expect that sort of reaction!"

"Er, at I think he is…" Russel trailed off more quietly, suddenly seeming less certain.

"That's even worse!" she threw her arms up. The spoon went flying before clattering on the ground behind her.

"Russel, I swear if this is your idea of a joke," Cardin ground out warningly. Russel shook his head frantically.

"It's not! I swear, I heard the two of them in the supply closet. That's why I came back, because I want to be certain I'm not hearing things!"

Amber went pale. She looked ready to either explode or faint.

"Come on! I'll show you!" Russel waved them over as he stood up, heading back out the cafeteria.

Cardin stood up. "I swear Russel…."

"So you're NOT an agent of Salem?" Qrow asked.

"For god's sake, YES!" Jaune screamed, Harbinger's blade tickling his throat as he stood spread eagled against the wall whilst near simultaneously turning his pants brown.

Qrow held his gaze for a moment longer. Eventually…

"Okay, I believe you." With that, he retracted Harbinger and sheathed it over his back. It never hurt to just be certain.

"So you're not going to kill me now?!"

Qrow shrugged.

"Eh, most likely not now that I've considered you harmless." Jaune ignored that, more content to still be among the living.

"I'm Qrow Branwen. Professional Huntsmen. My mission is to shadow Amber and make sure she doesn't get kidnapped or killed." He extended a hand out for Jaune to shake.

He shakily accepted. No need to antagonize the scary man before him.

"Jaune Arc. Short, sweet. Rolls off the tongue, and the ladies love it…" he mumbled. Qrow cocked an eyebrow.

"Does that really work?" he asked. He doubted such corny line would work. He stated as much.

"My dad always said women like confidence."

True. True. But that only worked if you could back it up with action. And he sorely doubted this kid had seen any action. In the bedsheets NOR the battlefield.

Jaune eyed him hesitantly. "So, you're not some creep trying to perv on Amber?" Jaune asked slowly. Qrow looked mortified.

"What?! Hell no! Like I said, I'm here because I'm trying to make sure she stays safe."

"Stay safe from what, though? I thought she was a Huntress?" Jaune was confused. Qrow was happy to answer.

"She is, but there are some people after her. Really nasty pieces of work. Like I said, my job is to make sure those people can't harm her."

Jaune supposed he understood. That didn't mean he was entirely comfortable with the concept, however.

"So why is she so upset with you, though?"

Qrow sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"She's being a child is what. I'm not opposed to her being able to move around freely, but she doesn't seem to quite grasp that just wandering off on her own without letting anyone know means that if something does happen to her…" he trailed off, and Jaune began to understand.

"She'd be on her own without anyone to turn to…" Qrow nodded.

"Yeah. Look. We can continue this in my office." Qrow stood up. "There's some things we should be clear on."

"Like Salem?" Jaune offered. He still had no idea who that was, nor why Qrow seemed to react so violently at her mention.

Qrow's eyes narrowed.

"Yeah. Her. Look, you can't say anything about her. It'll attract really bad attention. The sort that will kill you."

Jaune's eyes bugged out.

"What?"

Qrow ignored him. "Look, just come with me to my office."

"I can't just go with you to your office. The Instructor will have my head if I'm late for parade formation!" he hissed.

Qrow shrugged.

"Technically he's the same rank as me, therefore his authority is nullified by mine if I say so."

"No!" Jaune recoiled like an angry cat. Ain't no way in hell was he going through another session of PT hell just because the Instructor didn't see him in attendance. Qrow's rank be damned!

Qrow rolled his eyes. "Come." He said, gesturing with a jerk of his head to Jaune. The blonde nursed his nose with a scowl.

"I'm not gonna just come because you said so."

Qrow looked at him funnily.

"Funny, last time I checked I didn't care what you wanted. Now come."

"No."

Qrow's eye twitched.

"Kid, I am your superior officer. You'll come because I said come. Now come."

Jaune jutted his chin defiantly. "No."

"Kid. Do you want me to smash you harder than the last time?" he gestured to his face, and Jaune flinched.

His eyes darted around nervously for a solution. There was none. And he knew it. If Qrow wanted to, he could drag him out by force, kicking and screaming.

"Fine," he conceded with a grouse.

Standing up slowly, he felt his nose throb.

"Arghhhhhhhhhhh," he let out a long groan. Damn that smarted. So did his groin, but that was neither here nor there.

"You alright?" Qrow asked.

Jaune nodded.

"Yeah. I just wish you weren't so rough."

Qrow snorted, shaking his head as he fumbled for the closet handle.

"What did you expect? Sheesh. Honestly, I thought you would have been better at handling it."

Jaune scowled his way.

"It's not like I get a lot of practice," he shot heatedly.

Qrow raised a disinterested eyebrow. "What do you want, an apology?"

"I don't know, maybe just talk to me first?!"

"Hey! You were the one eager for some action in the first place! Can hardly fault a guy for doing what needs to be done."

"You're an ass."

Qrow snorted, a smidgen of a smile showing. He reached for the door.

"Careful. I'm still your boss."

Qrow paused. Where was the stupid handle?

He pushed, rattling the door.

"Qrow?"

Shit, where was the stupid handle?

Oh no. Don't tell me…

"What dickhead designs a door with only one handle?!" Qrow decried with a sour look.

"Did you lock us in here?"

"No! This door locked us in! I did no such thing!"

Jaune facepalmed. Gently mind you. His nose was still tender.

"No offence, but you are an idiot."

Qrow leveled him the stink eye.

"You're supposed to add sir to that, you smarmy asshole."

Jaune shot him an incredulous look.

"I'm the asshole? Excuse me. Who's the one that pushed me in here and closed the stupid door!"

Qrow winced. Okay, technically that was him, but in his defense, he needed some privacy as this conversation couldn't have waited. And secondly, it wasn't like he knew there was no handle on the inside.

Jaune sighed.

"Great. Now we're trapped in here."

"Now we're not. Stand back."

Jaune slowly looked over to see what Qrow was talking about, only to have his eyes widen to comical proportions as Qrow drew Harbinger and revealed the shotgun within it.

"Wait, Qrow, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" He screeched, each word faster and louder than the last.

The gun went off with a deafening bang.

The lock where the door handle likely was blew off into a thousand splinters. Pellets peppered the floor and wall behind it, and the closet door swung open with a pathetic squeak.

Cardin, Amber and Russel stood there with open mouths, unmoving.

Qrow sauntered out.

"What are you kids looking at?" he cocked an eyebrow. Why were they just staring at him.

Oh shit, is my fly undone?!

Instinctively, he patted a hand down to his zip and made sure to pull up.

There.

Jaune clambered out into the light, clutching his nose and crotch tenderly, only to freeze upon seeing his teammates.

"What's everyone doing here?"

Amber stared at him, her face turning a brilliant shade of red as she stammered.

"W-what are you d-doing!" she threw back at him, unable to look him in the eye.

"I was talking with the Major," he replied, eyebrow upturned.

"I can see that! And about what?" she seemed borderline hysterical.

Jaune eyed her strangely. Sheesh, what was her problem?

Qrow caught his attention, and upon closer look he paled. The man was making a throat-slitting gesture with his finger.

"I-I can't say," he stammered out, eyes going wide.

Amber stared at him, her lip trembling.

"I… I see."

With that, she stormed off, leaving everyone behind.

All Jaune could do was stare at her retreating form while Cardin and the others gaped like fish at him and Qrow.

The next day saw all of the recruits attending a lesson regarding infantry tactics, such as room clearing, callsigns, keywords and commands.

A series of wooden palisades arranged in a maze replicating walls and doorways had been constructed outside for them to weave in and out of.

Dressed in full combat gear with unloaded rifles, they began to practice entering the 'rooms' with tactical breaching.

As a Huntress, it came naturally to her. Her footwork was already established from years of practice. For others, it was more difficult as they jumbled their steps, and a couple times ended up either face first on floor to the first room, or colliding with another teammate.

Currently Jaune was stacked in front of her. As he practiced and occasionally failed the entry tactics being taught, she let her mind wander.

She let it wander to places she really shouldn't have been letting it wander. But all she could hear was the sound of him groaning inside that storage closet with Qrow.

Miltia's words from the other week replayed in her mind, and she found herself questioning what she knew about her teammate. Her 'friend'.

She wanted to believe that they had gotten close over these weeks. Bonded. And, with time, perhaps could even become something more.

Normally, her cheeks would have flushed with childish embarrassment at such thoughts. But as it was currently, all she felt was confliction.

He stumbled in front of her, and instinctively she brought a hand up to his shoulder to steady him. Technically it should have been there to begin with, but who cared.

He turned around and flashed her a smile. So goofy, and so adorable.

It pained her heart.

We could never be nothing more than friends, she realized. He was gay.

And that sucked.

He was so nice, so sweet, so friendly and so damned innocent. Really, he was.

And yet, she couldn't do anything more if she wanted to.

The thought of the two of them holding hands, laughing and smiling, seemed so magical and taboo, and yet it made her heart race.

She shuddered giddily at her fantasy –

"RECRUIT, WAKE THE FUCK UP!"

Amber jolted out of her skin as Instructor Ballsin appeared right next to her in the stack.

"SORRY DRILL SERGEANT!" she screamed out her apology. Better to apologise and move on than to try and deny.

He scrutinized her for a moment before stalking down the stack to pick on someone else.

Her eyes trailed him, and she caught Qrow walking around and pointing out flaws with peoples footwork and postures. Her face went sour upon seeing him.

It's all your fault, she grumbled internally.

If Qrow hadn't come here, none of this would have happened. She wouldn't have to worry about being whisked away back to Ozpin. She wouldn't have to argue with Qrow. And she wouldn't have had to have her heart break when she walked upon him and Jaune doing… stuff.

Why?! Why did it have to be her that had such rotten luck.

She sent Qrow a filthy look one more time.

He looked over her way, only to balk in surprise at the hatred seeping from her very pores.

"Yo Amber, you alright?" asked Russel tentatively.

"Peachy." Her one word answer did little to assuage him.

"Um, you sure? You seem a little – "

"A little what? Russel." Her scowl slowly turned on him, and wisely he backed off.

"You know what, Imma just focus on my handwork," he muttered, gesturing to his rifle stance.

Trying to squeeze through a tight doorway while remaining combat ready was not as easy as it sounded.

"I find hand work is the easiest part," Jaune commented over his shoulder.

Russel gagged. Miltia's words rang through Amber's mind.

No, don't be jealous. Be happy for Jaune. It's his life, and he has the right to live it how he wants.

But still, did it have to be with Qrow?

Speaking of the devil, he was approaching her to speak. Again.

"Can't you take a hint, old man?" she sent his way with a hiss.

The others balked at her rudeness, especially considering his rank.

Qrow twitched.

"It's Major to you. And we need to talk. Properly."

"Can we not?"

"Yeah, we're busy with practice," muttered Cardin, shooting him a wary glance.

"Well, you're officially on break for ten," shot Qrow.

"Amber. Follow me."

Reluctantly, she broke from their formation and followed him a few paces away and around the palisade corner.

Cardin watched her retreating form with frown.

"Is it me, or does Major Branwen seem really interested in her?"

Dove pursed his lips, thumb under his chin. "It does seem that way," he nodded slowly.

He glanced over to Jaune. "What do you think Jaune?" Jaune froze.

"Yeah. You seem to know the Major on a personal basis at this point," added Sky with a snigger.

"Eh? I don't know him. We just talked about some things briefly."

"Yeah? Like what?" Russel sniggered.

Jaune winced, rubbing the back of his head, only for his fingertips to brush the underside of his helmet.

"I can't say," he mumbled. The man made him swear to secrecy upon learning that there were other people after her. That still had his mind spinning.

Cardin broke off from the group.

"Well, I for one am sick and tired of speculating. I'm going to find out for myself. Something seems fishy about all this."

No one stopped him as he marched off to eavesdrop on Qrow's discussion with Amber, leaving a set of amused and dumbfounded recruits.

"Qrow this is ridiculous," Amber hissed.

"It's not," he stated, arms crossed.

"It is! At this point you're stalking me. Please just go. I'm not going to change my mind."

"Look, I'm giving you a chance to come of your own volition. Oz would rather I take you by force, and you know that. I can just as easily have the Army here turn you over to me. But I'm not. Because I respect you enough to do the right thing."

Amber looked at him, mouth ajar and an expression of betrayal etched into her features.

"Right thing? You're here trying to take me away. And now you've as good as started trying to remove my friends from my life!"

"Amber," Qrow shook his head.

"They're not your friends here. Not like you're imagining. They don't know." Well, Jaune apparently did, but that was neither here nor there. "And they're not strong enough to stand up to all of this when shit goes down. Please just come with me." His voice was soft and desperate.

Amber stared at him. Hard. And then she threw her chin up at him defiantly.

"No. I'm staying. And you can't make me leave."

"Amber…."

"Oh, and another thing Qrow? Stay away from Jaune. He doesn't need someone like you in his life. You'll only end up hurting him with your bad luck."

Qrow visibly recoiled at her words.

"What?" She had already begun to leave.

As she stormed away, she felt her heart suddenly seize up.

Oh my god ohmygod! I just told Qrow off to his face! He's going to get so mad! She despaired, clawing her face as she realized how much trouble she was going to get in.

I let my emotions get the better of me. Craaaaaaaaaap.

She hung her head with sheer shame and embarrassment as she trudged back to where the others were training. As such she missed Cardin. Visually, that was.

As she walked by he felt himself go stock still.

That's Qrow Branwen?!

He was in shock. But now it all made sense. The way Amber seemed so skittish and desperate to avoid the older man, the way he kept trying to talkt to her. And then there was Jaune, who refused to talk…

Oh my god…. It dawned on him.

Qrow Branwen. He seethed.

So you're the bastard! You fucked up coming here. You fucked up big time!

Cardin glared balefully at Qrow as he entered the grenade range. Russel and Sky flanked him, with Dove trailing behind.

Several sandbag piles surrounding dugouts greeted their vision, and a row of tables with boxes of grenades, both dummy and real, were present.

"It is imperative that you know how to throw a grenade. We have been training with the dummy ones for the last two days, but today, we're moving on to live grenades," the Instructor bellowed.

Qrow yawned as he watched on, but otherwise was content to remain as a quiet observer.

"You will split into several groups to train together. Live grenades will be handed out and supervised by either myself or Major Branwen. I catch anyone else using one without a chaperone present and you'll be wishing it detonates in your hands," he intoned viciously.

Everyone gulped.

The next half hour was spent with people on each team taking turns with either the Instructor or Major Branwen.

By some stroke of luck, Cardin and his teammates ended up with Major Branwen as their chaperone.

Cardin reared back, the grenade in is hand as he pulled the pin. He kept a firm grip on the striker lever so that way it would not detonate.

He aimed his throw down range. And then he pushed forward to send it flying. Only as he was about to let go his arm spun to the side. Instead of soaring forwards into the air, it tumbled to the side and over the sandbag wall on his right.

And landed right at Qrow's feet.

The man looked down dumbly at the grenade as it rolled in front of him.

"Hm?" he grunted, only for his eyes to suddenly expand in size to dinner plates. Time slowed down for him. "WHAT?!"

He kicked it like a soccer ball, and it bounced off of the sandbag wall before dropping into the dirt trench.

Not a second too late.

It detonated with explosion that sound like a, well, grenade going off.

A massive plume of dirt erupted in front of him, covering his vision before gradually settling down as the result boom tapered off.

Qrow stared at the scorch marks, still smoking, from where the grenade had detonated.

His eyes narrowed as his gaze slowly trailed to where Cardin stood.

The burly young man was looking his way.

Qrow stared right back.

"Sorry Major. My hand slipped."

His eyes narrowed even further. Accident my ass.

The next training exercise fared no better the following day.

"Instructor, my weapon is jammed," complained Sky, making a show of tugging on the bolt for his rifle. It remained locked in place.

Qrow sighed.

These kids man, he shook his head. Their incompetence was deadly and a weapon fit for war itself. And he was beginning to tire of it.

"Alright, listen up you chucklefuck." He approached Sky.

The other recruits began to back away slowly, giving space to him.

His hands latched onto Sky's gun and he proceeded to snatch it from the recruit. Sky still held on.

"Honestly, if you morons have forgotten to flick the safety –" The gun discharged. Right by his face.

The round tore through his hair, missing his skull by a scant few milimetres. He nearly jumped out of his skin, batting the rifle aside with a curse.

His eyes instantly fixed Sky with a furious glare. He returned it with a sheepish look.

"Sorry Instructor. Must have forgotten the safety."

"Uh huh," Qrow nodded with grit teeth. A likely story.

"Then perhaps I've forgotten that you need to do five laps around the perimeter, yes?"

Sky's expression morphed into one of horror, and he uttered out a desperate 'no'.

Too bad for him, but Qrow was not an overly forgiving person.

By the time the third incident happened, not even 24 hours later, and Qrow was beginning to believe his semblance was acting up. That or the recruits were genuinely trying to kill him.

How, might you ask?

By the fact a literal claymore mine had somehow found its way into his bed, and only by some stroke of fortune when he tossed his flask onto the cot did he save his very life.

The bed exploded with a ferocious bang, kicking up layers of dirt that even the Instructor was amazed had somehow remained hidden despite years of vigilance.

"Yeah fuck your dirt, I almost got killed!" he retorted.

And what did the investigation yield? Some stupid recruit must have 'misplaced' the munitions.

He blamed Instructor Ballsin for that one. The man could have done a proper investigation, but his perceived rivalry with him for simply being a Huntsman meant that he obviously should have been more vigilant.

Never mind the fact that a deadly munition that should have been under lock and key was in my freaking bed!

And once again his Semblance decided to fuck with him, because everyone had an alibi. All of the security cameras watching the ammo and weapons storage happened to be undergoing maintenance at the time.

Because of course they were.

Cue the fourth day, and by now the attempts on his life had ceased, and instead he was greeted with literal shit being smeared inside his newly assigned quarters.

He sighed as he now found himself sleeping in avian form on a tree like a fucking homeless person. And damn was it cold!

The interesting thing about being a bird, however, was no-one suspected you. Which was how he lucked out and learned who his 'attackers' were.

Cardin Winchester and his posse comprising Russel, Sky and Dove.

They were also friends of recruit Arc, and most importantly, Amber.

He watched, perched atop a spindly tree branch, as the culprits moodily gathered and conspired right underneath him.

"I can't believe that fucker weaseled out of everything," Cardin spat, clasping a fist in an open palm angrily as he paced around. He was like a wild cat, agitated and hackled.

"Look, we'll get him next time," Dove sighed, trying to calm his raging leader.

"Yeah," nodded Russel with a feral grin. "I spread shit all over his new quarters, so he'll at least be forced out in to the open now."

Sky stared at him like he had grown a second head.

"Man, you've got a few screws loose Russel. You know that?"

Qrow meanwhile seethed from above.

So you're the bastard responsible for that, eh?

Cardin shook his head, coming to a stop.

"The guy's insanely lucky." Qrow would beg to differ. Not right now of course. Lady luck was shining on him by revealing these nuisances to him.

"Yeah tell me about it," Russel snorted.

"He ate that grenade you tossed like it was nothing Cardin."

Qrow's eyes widened. I freaking knew that grenade was no accident!

As they began to talk and devise a new means of antagonizing him, of which he should frankly be courtmartialling them for, he felt his blood boil.

You little punks…

This would need correcting, and while a healthy dose of PT would be cathartic, he ultimately needed to address the matter at hand directly with them.

The most important thing was to recognize these were still kids at the end of the day, though. And despite his misgivings, he needed to give them the benefit of the doubt and treat them with respect. He needed to teach them a lesson. Not uphold a grudge.

That didn't mean he was above the concept of revenge. And while he would still need to work out a proper punishment for them, he could have his own commepuence right now. And he had just the idea in mind for revenge.

Call him petty, but what he was going to do, while undignified, was frankly well deserved.

Trailing up the branch until he was resting directly over-top of Cardin's head, he let his feathery bottom hang. He flexed his anal sphincter, and with the might of a thousand suns, he contracted and pushed forth the mightiest bird turd of all.

Behold! His magnum opus!

A pathetic squirt of white pushed out, barely the size of a pea.

And yet with it, the power of a bomb flowed.

Qrow's Semblance was misfortune, but it was also random.

Sometimes it benefitted him. Other times, it worked against him.

But right now, luck was on his side. It was not on Cardin's.

He instantly felt something warm, wet and sticky smack atop his crown and splatter, and with a disgusted recoil, he automatically rubbed a bare hand through his scalp, muttering out a questioning obscenity. He glanced up.

Qrow savagely met his eyes.

Cardin's eyes bulged with rage at the birds audacity.

"Eat shit motherfucker."

Alas, his taunting words only came out as one long caaaaw.

The message was still the same.

"Yo cardin, you alright?" asked Dove.

"No. That bird just shit on me!"

I'm not just any bird. I am QROW…

"Damn, you're unlucky man."

Cardin growled as he reached for his rifle. "Not as unlucky as this little pest when I turn him into a pile of feathers."

And just now Qrow realized his luck was about to work against him.

It was time to get out of here. But, with his newly acquired knowledge, he now knew who the ringleaders were.

As he flapped his wings and vacated the premises to safety, he reflected on his next course of action. And above all, handle this situation maturely.

Amber chewed on her lip as she watched Jaune enter the barracks.

His hair was messy and still damp from a shower. It made him look so very attractive right now. Gah! Even now, despite everything, she still couldn't take her eyes of him.

Cardin and the other boys were lounging around their bunks in half-dressed states. Some were studying the soldier handbook, like Dove. He was such a model recruit.

Others were engaging in idle chitchat or stupid activities such as arm-wrestling. Like Russel and Sky.

It was because of this relaxed environment as they wound down for the day that her gaze trailed back to Jaune.

Despite him being gay, she still found herself drawn to him.

Her expression began to fall. Despite him being… gay….

Damn it. Why. Why did he have to be gay. It would have been so much better if he wasn't. Then she could… then she could…

Ah, who was she kidding, she was starting to find herself crushing on him.

Why? Because he was smart. He was kind. He was empathetic. And he was…

"Gah!" she shook her head.

"Hmm? You alright Amber?"

She stilled, her face heating up. She just said that aloud, didn't she.

Jaune's voice carried throughout the air, strong and full of conviction. But kind and also caring.

"You know, I get that things haven't been easy lately," he added, plopping down onto his bunk in front of her, "but you've got to think about the future. You've just been unlucky is all." He tried to cheer her up.

She gave him the stink eye.

"Oh yeah," she drawled. "Real unlucky…"

The buffoon.

Amber, stop, she chastised herself.

Meanwhile, Jaune reflected on her words.

Unlucky huh.

That was one way of putting it.

And frankly, he wasn't the only one unlucky right now.

The whole division was unlucky, with recruits experiencing a chronic bout of misfortune right now. It almost seemed to coincide with Major Branwen's arrival.

He still wasn't sure on how to feel about the man. Should he hate him for making Amber's life uncomfortable? Even if it was to protect her?

He still felt conflicted about that tidbit of information.

The one thing he could confirm that he did hate was something less specific to the Major. Rather, it was how rotten their luck during training always seemed to be.

It was like because everyone seemed to know they were being observed by an advisor that their nerves got the better of them somehow. Even Jaune would admit he was faring no better.

Three guns had already malfunctioned on the range, with one literally exploding due to an overcharged round detonating in the breech. That nearly killed the poor recruit who ended up narrowly avoiding being a statistic only because his kevlar plate was too big for his small frame.

The worst incident by far was gas mask training. For some reason, the seals didn't adhere properly on many of the recruits near the Major as he observed them, and they ended up having to redo the course because they ended up a coughing, spewing, swollen mess.

Chemical warfare sucked. He winced as he remembered his first session, and how badly it went. For some reason, his whole filter was faulty! He ended up inhaling a lungful of gas and nearly passing out as he felt his innards burn.

The Instructor berated everyone for failing spectacularly, and reminding them that if this were real chemical munitions, they would all be dead or wishing they were. Jaune sometimes wished he was with the suffering he had to endure under this masochist.

Later, upon inspection, it turned out nearly all of the gas masks had malfunctioned by some freak coincidence and were faulty to begin with.

It's almost like we're cursed, he chuckled.

But that was ridiculous. There was no way such bad luck could be so systemic. This was just temporary, and most likely a case of recruits having jittery nerves, or being underprepared and failing to follow the Instructor's instructions.

"Hey, Jaune," Amber started, catching his attention.

"You know. I really do like you," she sighed, a forlorn smile gracing her lips.

Jaune paused.

"I'd actually go as far as to admit I might even like you more than just being friends maybe in the future," she added.

His eyes began to widen.

Wait. Is she…?

She looked up, and he glanced into her eyes. They seemed to shimmer in the light, though perhaps that was because of the tears welling in them. A broken smile wormed its way onto her face.

"But I realise I can't just think about what I want," she continued.

Jaune felt his heart stop. Was she actually propositioning him? He felt confused. On one hand he felt flattered. On the other though, this felt like a serious overstep of professional boundaries.

"I need to think about you too," she carried on, oblivious to his inner turmoil, or taking it as a sign of vindication with her hypothesis.

"And as such, I want to respect you, and your choices. Even if I don't agree with them."

"Amber…" he mouthed. He didn't want her to get her hopes up. This felt wrong. And yet that also made his heart race for some reason. Damn his teenage hormones!

"Shush," she brought a finger up.

"Let me finish," she pleaded. This was already embarrassing for her as it was. She didn't need his pity. She was above that, or so she told herself.

"I respect you, and I want you to be happy. And as such, I don't want you to feel as if you need to hide the truth from me."

His eyes went wide.

"The… truth?"

Oh god, is she talking about my forgeries? But he enlisted in the Army through the normal channels, just like her! She shouldn't know!

"Yes," she nodded.

"Jaune, I want you to know," she rested a hand on his shoulder. He froze. "It's okay to be gay. And you don't have to worry about me making things awkward. I'm not going to try and pursue you, because I respect you."

Aaaaand just like that, his dreams shattered.

I'M NOT GAY! He wanted to scream so desperately.

"Amber," he began, only for the barracks doors to suddenly slam open. One flew clean off its hinges. It landed a few metres away with a mighty boom.

Everyone jumped in fright, expecting Instructor Ballsin to enter. Instead, it was Major Branwen.

"Oi! Winchester! Is there a problem!" he called out, taking long deliberate strides to where they were seated.

Cardin froze, as did everyone else.

Amber tensed as he sauntered over, Harbinger draped over his shoulder.

"Sir?" Cardin tried, acting all cute and innocent. Qrow shook his head. Yeah he wasn't going to buy that Grimm-shit.

"I asked if there was a problem?" He came to a stop in front of the small team, and they all looked up at him varying expressions of confusion and outright contempt.

At everyone's silence, he elaborated.

"It's just I've noticed there's been a little trend of mischief around here, and it seems to have to do with me for some reason."

He produced Harbinger, stabbing it into the ground a heavy thud. He leaned over the hilt, lazily tracking all of them with his eyes.

"I just wanted to figure out what the issue was, is all."

Cardin trembled with rage. The adrenalin kicked in. This was his chance.

Amber's eye twitched. Right when she was trying to have a heart to heart with Jaune, and this bastard had to interrupt it.

"Qrow!" she snapped to her feet, a furious expression across her face. The man shot her a surprised glance.

"Oh, hey Amber. You reconsider my offer?"

She seethed. Cardin leapt to his feet.

"This is what the issue is!" he snarled. Sensing a fight about to happen, the other three boys leapt to their feet in support of their friend. Jaune was left sitting with a gaping maw and a short-circuiting brain.

Qrow merely cocked an eyebrow.

"You're a creep," Cardin hissed venomously.

"What?" Qrow was confused. How was he a creep? Sure, he would admit he liked the waitresses at the bars, especially when they wore those really tight miniskirts. But that hardly made him a creep!

"You've been perving on Amber and stalking her all this time! And now you've seduced and blackmailed Jaune!" Cardin roared.

Amber froze. "What?"

Qrow froze. "Amber, it's a misunderstanding," he pleaded. "Help explain." Because clearly Jaune was of no fucking use here if the way he sat there collecting flies was any indicator!

"Qrow?" she asked tentatively between tears.

"You've been… stalking me?"

He wanted to pull his hair out. "Of course I've been following you! You idiot!"

"Amber!" snapped Cardin. "Don't talk to him."

"What? No, there's obviously a misunderstanding," she shook her head. "I don't know why you think Qrow is this strange creep after me, but he's not. This is just a misunderstanding."

"Clearly!" retorted the older man. "Now explain that to them!" The boys were glowering angrily at him still.

Amber shook her head.

"Look, he can't possibly be interested in me the way you guys think," she explained.

"Oh yeah? Then why's he stalking you?" Cardin demanded. She bit her bottom lip nervously.

"I... I can't really say," she began. That wasn't good enough for him. Fortunately Jaune was there to answer that. Much to Qrow's horror.

"Because someone called Salem is after her," he blurted. It was the only thing he could focus on. Everything else was just too much.

Fuck Qrow and the panicked look he was sending him. It was his fault he was in this mess right now anyways. Let the world burn for all he cared right now.

"Wha…? Who's Salem?" Cardin now had more questions.

Qrow threw an arm over Jaune's shoulder.

"Aha, nobody. My friend here's such a kidder," Qrow faux-laughed. Jaune recoiled, throwing Qrow off of him.

"We are not friends!" he hissed.

"We're not?"

"Guys, please. It's okay. All that matters is this is just one big misunderstanding," she tried to placate.

Qrow nodded, glad to finally have someone backing him.

"Exactly. She's way too young for me anyways. I prefer 'em older."

Amber continued, ignoring his additional commentary.

"And that's because he's gay!" she continued.

Qrow nodded. "Exactly. Because I am gay- hrk?!"

His head snapped to her so fast it threatened to come off.

"I'm fucking wot?!"

"You're fucking Jaune, " Cardin spat.

Jaune's jaw dropped.

"Where the hell do you guys even get that?!" he cried aloud.

"And see what you've done," proclaimed Sky dramatically. "You've tormented poor Amber when all she wanted was to be free from your control. She can't even profess her love for Jaune because you have tainted him!"

Amber felt tears well in her eyes.

Finally! Someone who understood her.

Jaune recoiled.

"Tainted? What the hell Sky?!"

Qrow growled. "I second what the kid said. What do you mean by tainted?" There was a dangerous undertone and glint in his eyes.

"You've stolen her love! So tragic," he clenched a fist to heart as he bit back tears. Dove raised a disturbed eyebrow at his teammate.

Jaune twitched irritably.

Sky sniffed once before looking Qrow dead in the eye with such conviction that everyone felt moved. Even Qrow looked somewhat impressed underneath his confusion.

"Well, enough's enough. She's our teammate, and she's our friend!"

"That's right," nodded Dove, sending Qrow a dangerous glare. Even if the gay angle was weird in his eyes, he still stood by the message behind it. And that was he supported all of his teammates. Sky and Amber alike. Jaune would admit that even he was a little intimidated by the normally well-mannered and stoic boy act so serious all of a sudden.

"We won't let you torment Amber anymore!" Sky loudly proclaimed, throwing a fist over his heart dramatically.

Qrow's took in the theatrical displays with helpless confusion.

Amber felt her lip warble.

"You guys…"

She was on the verge of tears. Tears of happiness.

"You guys are the bestest friends I've ever had…."

"Amber, you've never had friends before," Qrow shook his head, stunned. "How would you even know?"

"The scum confesses," Russel hissed, like a senile priest accusing someone of being a heretic.

"You have stalked her. You have harassed her. We won't let you have your wicked ways with her anymore!"

"My wicked WHAT?! What on Remnant are you nutjobs going on about? Amber?"

Qrow turned to her for an explanation, but she was too busy crying tears of joy at realizing she had real friends.

I told Oz having her cooped up in the wilderness would stunt her development, he mentally cursed.

"Argh, dammit. Jaune!" he turned to the blonde kid for assistance. "Help me out here!"

Jaune seethed. "You," he hissed. Qrow faltered.

"You! It's your fault! All of these gay rumours?! It's your fault!"

"I was having a moment here! Dammit." She wheeled onto Jaune suddenly, looking him dead in the eyes.

"Jaune!" He jolted. "I understand we can't be anything more. And I've come to terms with that. But please. I want us to remain friends at least, Jaune. We can still be friends, right?"

She looked at him desperately, yet so hopeful at the same time.

Time crawled to a stop as realization set in. It was right then and there he felt his dreams and hopes shatter into pieces and crumble into dust.

His one chance at maybe securing a girlfriend? Gone.

I've just been friendzoned… Dense as he may be at times (according to his mother and siblings) he liked to believe he wasn't that dense.

He had just been cockblocked. And all because of a stupid rumour that he was gay. One that Qrow was responsible for apparently.

He seethed. What rotten luck, and it was all Qrow's fault. That man was an omen.

"I AM NOT FUCKING GAY!" Roared Jaune. Everyone went silent at his outburst which seemed to triumph over all prior ones.

He heaved, huffing and puffing.

Amber looked at him weakly. "You're not…?"

He snapped his head towards her incredulously. She flinched.

"Of course not! What do you think I've been telling you all this time?"

She opened her mouth, only to find she couldn't close it. Words wanted to escape, yet for some reason she couldn't formulate the right ones.

"But I thought? Miltia said… you and Qrow in the closet?"

"I. Am not. Gay!" he repeated, each word delivered viciously.

Cardin and the others stared at him, unsure of what to believe now.

"Then, what about Qrow?" he asked tentatively. If he wasn't a stalker, then what was he?

The man facepalmed dramatically.

"Argh, dammit. The short and sweet of it is I'm trying to look out for Amber, because there're some really bad people out there. I'm a Huntsman, kids." He began to explain, as if that would clear up any and all misunderstandings.

He looked to Amber for support in corroborating his explanation.

"Why are you looking at me?" she gesticulated.

Qrow opened his mouth to argue something.

Cardin brought his boot up. Right into his senior officer's groin.

Qrow's eyes bugged out, and he let out a muted curse.

When he finally got back up, there was a murderous gaze in his eyes that promised pain.

As Cardin ran by outside the barracks, Jaune managed to get a good look at his brother-in-arms face.

It was swollen purple and black, with both of his eyes obscured by ginormous cheeks.

He glanced nervously to Qrow who was standing next to him with his arms crossed.

"Um, I think ten laps is enough sir…."

Qrow stared out behind Cardin's retreating form, his panting still audible.

He wasn't the only one. Russel, Sky and Dove all followed him. Even Amber was seen trailing behind them, fatigue having settled in long ago.

"It will be enough when I say it's enough, Arc."

"But you've got him running in full combat gear."

"Conditioning is important."

"Sir, don't you think you're being spiteful?"

For the first time, Qrow let his eyes slide over to the left to regard him.

"If someone kicked you in the nuts, would you be happy?"

"You did kick me," Jaune pointed out blandly.

"Yeah. After you decided it was appropriate to assault me in the first place."

"I thought you were a creep!" Jaune protested.

"Do you want to join your teammate?" the older man snapped suddenly. Jaune wisely clamped shut.

"Hmph. That's what I thought."

Cardin's body grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

After six weeks, it was finally time.

The final written exam. The one that would play a role in his ability to choose what his military career would be upon graduating.

And after this today, he, like all the other recruits, would have a single day off to rest and prepare. Because the final assessment lay just in wait after that.

The instructor opened the doors to the admin building and, on his order, all of the recruits marched down in a single file to the desks arranged in front of them. Five rows of five, as always.

A piece of paper with a large number sat printed on the top left corner for all to see. It ascended from 1 through to 25, matching with their own assigned number.

They silently marched down and split to find their assigned desk. The sound of shuffling feet was all that could be heard.

Taking his seat, Jaune could see a small booklet stapled together. The front page was blank, sans for the emblem of the VSDF emblazoned boldly in the centre. A lone pen sat parallel to it.

"Recruits!" called out the Instructor, standing at the centre front of the room for all to see.

"This examination is weighted towards your career choice upon graduating. The higher you score, the higher the likelihood of being assigned to your first preference."

His eyes darted around, keeping a strict eye on all of the recruits seated. None dared move or speak.

"In five minutes, at exactly O'900, you will open to the second page of your booklet, where you will be granted 90 minutes to answer the questions. There are ten written questions, and 75 multiple choice. You may open up to the FIRST PAGE ONLY! Fill in your name, serial number and the date."

The sound of booklets opening and pages being flipped echoed out in the otherwise silent room.

The scratch of cheap ballpoint pens being indented onto the pages was deafening in the otherwise absolute silence.

Everyone put their pens down as they stared up at the Instructor. And the large analog clock hanging behind him. It ticked ominously as the hands drew nearer to 9:00am.

"RECRUITS!"

The clock struck nine.

"You may proceed with your examination!"

The sounds of pens furiously scribbling and pages turning filled the room. Nervously, Jaune flicked to the first question.

In ascending order of seniority, list all ranks of the VSDF.

Okay, maybe this wasn't so bad. The first question seemed relatively easy enough. It had only been drilled into their heads since the first day.

Private.

Lance Corporal.

Corporal.

Sergeant.

Staff Sergeant.

Sergeant Major.

2nd Lieutenant.

1st Lieutenant.

Captain.

Major.

Commander.

Lieutenant Colonel.

Colonel.

Brigadier General.

General.

Commander of the Army.

He paused. Commander of the Army. The highest rank imaginable. Idly, he couldn't help but wonder what such responsibility would entail. And what it would feel like. He shuddered.

The next question was not as easy. And neither was the one after that. Or that.

Flipping through to the final written question, it stared back at him.

What does it mean to serve the VSDF?

He whimpered. Why couldn't these questions be less philosophical and arbitrary?

He skipped to the multiple choice questions.

How to assemble your weapon in the correct order; typical loadout; what doctrines and rules apply under x circumstances. They went on and on, with each becoming harder and harder.

He must have spent too much time looking at the questions because the Instructor suddenly called out the time.

"You have ten minutes left! This is your first warning."

Crap!

And how many questions had he answered?

A quick flip back revealed to his horror only five written ones answered, and over half the multiple choice answered.

He screamed.

All eyes flipped his way, and the Instructor sent him a death-like glare.

He slammed the tip of his pen onto the page, shading in a random multiple choice answer.

He didn't want to be sent to the front! He needed to pass this!

By the time the Instructor called the end of the exam, Jaune was covered in sweat.

By some miracle of the Brother Gods, he managed to fill in all of the answers, including the written ones.

Whether they were accurate was an entirely different story, but he went with his gut.

All of the technical jargon was pretty straightforward, but the stuff waxing poetic about philosophy? That he had no idea about.

I've probably failed, he thought glumly.

Walking out of the building, he had no time to focus on his dejection however as Amber collided with him, wrapping her arms around him.

"Jauuune!" she wailed.

He toppled over under her weight.

""I'm so scared! I think I failed!" she cried, ugly tears and snot trailing down her face and onto him.

He struggled to breath, his face turning purple as her Huntress strength crushed him.

He slammed the ground with his palm repeatedly.

"Can't…breathe?!" he gasped.

Fortunately, Cardin and Dove came to his rescue and plied her off of him.

"Please Jaune! I can't fail this!"

How the hell was he supposed to change that? The test was already done! He was trying not to panic over his own potential exam results.

He gasped for air as he hunched over on the ground.

"Amber! Knock it out," chastised Cardin, giving her a light whack on the back of the head.

Talk about dramatic. He could care less however. As everyone shot them strange looks and began to chatter about their theoretical results and dream assignments, all Jaune could do was nervously anticipate his own.

That, and what tomorrow's assignment would begin.

And come the next day as they gathered outside of the Emerald Forest in full military gear, the cold air making their breath visible, the Instructor spoke.

Accompanying him was Qrow, unaffected by the cold. Huntsmen must run hotter than normal. That was the only explanation Jaune could think of as he shivered inside his uniform in this blasted cold.

"Recruits! This is your final assessment, and will test all of the training and lessons you have learned over the past six weeks!" he declared.

"This exercise is a rite of passage to graduate into the VSDF as professional soldiers!"

Qrow folded his arms. The Instructor grinned.

"The final Battle Simulation, as we call it, is always different year to year. This year, we're going back to something a little old fashioned. Capture the flag. But with a twist."

His grin widened.

"Both teams are going to try and capture the flag at the central ruins of the forest, and then exfil back here to plant it." He gestured to a stack of sandbags near the parked trucks. "You are allowed any means necessary to capture the flag. This is a war simulation after all."

He looked at everyone who was now becoming excited at the prospect of something more fun and exciting.

"As for the twist? He he. Well, that's simple. You will have an elected leader that you will choose between your NCOs. They are not allowed to die. If they do, it is an instant loss for your team. However, only your team leader is allowed to plant the flag."

He looked around at everyone. They were quickly beginning to realise the stakes at hand.

"Both teams will start at opposite sides of the temple. Major Branwen and myself will both be accompanying one of the teams as an observer. We will not be participating and," he leveled a dangerous glare to them all. "You will not fire upon US."

Everyone shifted nervously under the glare. The Instructor looked at them expectantly.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Grab your gear and let's get started recruits!"

The final exercise was about to begin…

Chapter Text

Arc 1: Chapter 7

Jaune looked at the ranks of his men that he was somehow elected the leader of.

And wasn't that surprising.

Amber had recommended him, and even Cardin seemed to concede that he was a little bit smarter perhaps than even he. Though, that was mostly because Dove pointed out his ingenuity during the last exercise in the Forever Falls. Whereas Cardin's plans saw them suffer under the weight of ammo boxes and get attacked by a naked crazy drug addict serial killer slash maybe rapist. Cardin twitched at that.

So now here he was. Underprepared, undertrained, out of his depth, and somehow responsible for 12 other recruits. Many of whom didn't even know or really respect him.

He cleared his voice.

"Okay, guys. Let's gather up and begin our plan."

"Dude, what plan? They're gaining ground on us already!" snapped some guy he didn't even recognize.

Amber growled at him in defense of Jaune.

"And what? Walk right into a stream of gunfire? Nah, I'll pass."

Live ammunition was not being used. That would have been incredibly stupid and dangerous. Rather, the use of subsonic rubber Ice Dust pellets was instead the choice munition. Low yield enough to not be lethal, but certainly performative enough leave a nasty welt to the unprepared. The Ice Dust also would serve as a visual marker for any hits, and anyone struck in a fatal part would be instantly disqualified.

Jaune and Cardin crowded over the map assigned to them.

Another NCO, a girl with short blonde hair, joined them.

"It's only two clicks to the ruins," Cardin pointed out. That meant the other team was currently four clicks away from them. That gave plenty of distance and time to avoid a confrontation.

The ruins lay in an open clearing, offering plenty of cover for a defending force, but absolute hell for an attacking one. If one could reach the ruins first.

Really, speed was going to be the winner right now.

"The flag's in the centre of those ruins. Once we get it, we're going to be swarmed and pinned down. And if we don't beat 'em, then we're gonna be easy pickings," Cardin noted. Jaune pursed his lips as he studied it.

The guy from earlier paced in agitation.

"All the more reason to move faster!"

Was it really though?

We don't have to commit everyone though. All heads swiveled to him. He must have said that aloud.

"What do you mean?" asked Dove.

Jaune winced nervously under the sudden focus of everyone.

"Ah, I mean just that. It's not going to take all of us to grab a flag. If anything, only one person can pass the flag to the finish line."

At everyone's inquisitive expression, he explained further.

"We should only have one squad enter the ruins themselves. Have another provide support outside."

Cardin frowned. That sounded a little… weird.

"You'd want us to commit less people to capturing the flag? You know we're gonna face all of them head on, right?"

"Which is precisely why we should have fewer people going in," Jaune countered, gaining more confidence in his voice.

His teammates exchanged glances, while the other NCO's scoffed.

"Alright. So what about the other squads? Where should we sit? In the trees hmm?"

Jaune scowled his way. "Sarcasm isn't what we need right now."

"And neither is a fool's errand," was the hot reply.

Cardin stepped forward. "Okay, let's hear the rest of his idea out first."

Jaune thanked Cardin before continuing.

"As I was saying, we have one squad go in to capture the flag, while the second provides cover fire from the treeline and denies them entry to the site itself. As for the third…" he trailed off, shooting the other two NCO's a firm look. "They stay hidden and can do one of two things. Either act as support if we need it and flank their positions. Or even better, go after their team leader."

Eyebrows were raised.

"Okay…" trailed off the blonde woman. "But what about you? If we send you in straight away to grab the flag, they're going to focus all their effort on shooting you."

Jaune shook his head. "They won't." the plan began to take final shape inside his head.

"Because I'm not going to grab the flag. Someone else will."

"What?!" the NCO's gasped collectively.

Call him selfish, but he was beginning to see the rules of this exercise and how it would play out.

"The rules are that I have to pass the flag over the finish line. It never said anything about me being the one that had to carry it all the way. Right Instructor?"

Instructor Ballsin grunted, but didn't offer anything else. He was there as an observer only.

"And besides, that's all bait anyways. The real objective will be their leader."

Cardin slowly began to nod, a vicious smirk forming.

"I see. If we attack them directly, we'll sow confusion in their ranks and they'll be forced to react and defend themselves. And as we're doing that, they'll see us taking the flag and have to push through."

Jaune nodded. "Exactly. At which point they'll expose themselves."

The blonde NCO's mouth began to open in realization.

"Ahhh. And then we can hit their leader and win the match without having to cross the finish line."

"And even if we don't get them, we'll have the flag," Amber finished.

Cardin smirked victoriously as he shot the other male NCO a knowing look.

"See? This is why Jaune's plans are good. Because they are."

With a reluctant nod, he conceded. But that didn't mean he lacked questions.

"Okay then. Who gets to have the unfortunate luck of drawing all their fire in the centre then?"

Jaune couldn't, and by extension neither could his team. If anything, being Huntsmen candidates made them better suited for closing the distance and eliminating the enemy leader.

"I'll do it," offered the blonde girl.

"You sure?" It was pretty risky to traverse that open clearing and get into the ruins.

She smirked, tapping the top of her helmet.

"Hell yeah. We'll keep them baited. You just focus on taking the enemy commander."

Jaune nodded. "Now, as for you and your squad…" he searched for a name. The nameless NCO gave it with a grunt.

"Roy."

"Well, Roy. Use your squad to keep the enemy pinned down in the trees and stop them advancing. Cardin? We'll flank around the north and take the fight straight to them."

Cardin nodded savagely. He charged the bolt on his rifle, chambering a Dust round.

"I like it!"

"I don't," the female NCO shook her head.

"It's a sound plan, but we can't have you, our only flag-bearer up at the front like that. You should stay back with Roy's squad. You'll be safer there, and you can transition from support to escaping with the flag if need be."

Roy nodded.

"She's right. It'll fail if we lose you right off the bat, or have to rescue you."

Jaune took a deep breath as he looked at everyone. He didn't want to stay at the back like this. But then, did it really matter? It was only a training exercise.

Besides, once he graduated, it wasn't like he planned on going to the front lines anyway.

"Alright. I'll do that instead," he conceded. Honestly, he was fine with it as well.

Instructor Ballsin looked up at him.

"So you're officially the Team Leader and Flag Bearer?" he asked.

"Yes Drill Sergeant," he nodded.

"Good. Wear this," he offered Jaune a small electronic wrist band.

Jaune accepted it with a confused expression.

"This will monitor your biometrics. If you get hit, it will blare an alarm to indicate to everyone you have fallen in combat. That means you lose."

Jaune pursed his lips as he stared at the device. No way was he letting that happen.

"Now, I have to inform Major Branwen you are the team leader, and he will inform me of who his is."

Wait, wasn't that a little unfair? He objected. The Instructor rolled his eyes.

"Only Major Branwen and I know. It's up to you lot to figure out who their leader is, just as they must figure out you."

With that, he left and radioed in to Qrow, leaving Jaune and his team standing around.

"Well," Jaune clapped his hands together after slapping on the wristband. "Let's move out."

Roy nodded and grabbed his team, while the blonde NCO grabbed hers.

"Oh, and Jaune," she called.

"Hmm?"

"It's Vera. Try not to forget me. I certainly won't be forgetting you if we win this," she winked his way before leaving.

Russel shoulder-checked him, a goofy grin plastered across his face.

"Man you're a real chick magnet aren't you."

Jaune tightened his grip on his service-weapon. Considering most of the women in his life were either high maintenance bossy sisters, or wanted to outright stab him like the Malachite twins? Yeah, Russel really had no idea how unlucky he actually he was.

He slapped a hand on Russel's chest, looking him in the eyes with a dead expression. Slowly, he wiped it off of him.

Russel shot him a confused look. "What was that?"

"My faith in humanity." Jaune stalked off to join Roy, leaving Russel standing there confused.

"Huh?!"

Moving through the forest was easier said than done. Sure, the terrain was much more forgiving compared to the first group exercise, but traipsing around in full gear was hard. It weighed down on him a lot. Physically that is.

Then there was the training they received in regards to footwork and patterns, moving cover to cover, scanning terrain and keeping ones weapon ready.

Jaune watched as Cardin led his teammates and Amber to flank behind the ruins and get the drop on the enemy team.

He could see the ruins coming up just ahead. True to the map, there was a large clearing, with several stone obelisks and pillars standing tall. All around them lay chunks of carved stone with engraved mosaic patterns.

Plenty of cover to take advantage of if one could successfully traverse the open patch of short grass and dirt right ahead of them.

Jaune knelt down just before the clearing opened up from the forest, keeping his head tucked underneath a simple bush. It offered concealment for him, and concealment only.

Roy crouched down beside him on his left, while Vera crouched to his right.

There was no sign of movement up ahead. Perhaps the enemy team was still trying to reach the ruins? He could only hope. However, he was doubtful.

They're probably lying in wait, just like us, he grimaced. He voiced as much to the other two.

"Well, we can't just sit here forever either," Roy argued. He was right.

"I say we make a break for it, just like you said," Vera suggested excitedly. There was no disguising her enthusiasm. She was itching for this fight. Even Roy seemed relatively calm.

How? Jaune was somewhat envious of his comrades confidence. He was already a ball of nerves. Even if he had a plan in mind, it still remained to be tested.

At this point, however, the plan was still the same.

With a heavy breath, he turned to Roy.

"Get your people ready in the tree lines to provide suppressive fire. The second they pop their heads out, blast them."

Roy nodded wordlessly, vanishing from his side to rally his own team into position.

"Vera," he turned to her. She looked at him expectantly.

Gods, I can't believe I'm actually doing this. I can't believe I've been put in charge.

A huge mistake in his humble opinion. Now was not the time for such self-depreciation.

"As soon as Roy is in position, you take your squad and charge straight for the ruins."

She nodded resolutely.

It didn't take long for Roy to get in position. He made eye contact with Jaune who shuddered a nervous breath.

Vera waited in anticipation for his command. He gave it.

Almost instantly she and her squad burst forth from the bushes and made a mad sprint for the safety of the ruins.

And almost instantly they were met with a hail of gunfire from the enemy team.

Small plumes of dirt exploded into ice as rubber munitions impacted. Even though they were subsonic, they still flew far, and they still flew fast.

Jaunes eyebrows flew to his hairline in surprise. He expected the enemy to respond, but he certainly didn't expect them to respond so quickly.

"What are you waiting for? Open fire!"

That was Roy. And not even a second later the sound of rubber munitions being shot returned back to the enemy. Who Jaune still couldn't even see!

He watched as rounds impacted around Vera and her team. They were essentially chased all the way to the ruins by automatic rubber Dust rounds.

Ice exploded on one of her men's legs, signifying he had been hit.

He bit back a curse as he watched as the man collapsed face-first into the ground. Another one of her soldiers stopped to try and drag him to cover, only to receive a face full of cold ice. She screamed, hopping around in shock and pain as ice number face.

"Ah! Cold cold COLD!"

She was meant to play dead at this point. Seeing her still hopping around, more rubber ice dust rounds sailed through the air and impacted her.

Her whole body was peppered with ice.

Jaune shuddered to imagine if this had been the real deal what she would actually look like by now.

Roy's head snapped Vera's way.

"No, you fool! Get to cover!" It was too late. They had walked right into an ambush, and now to Jaune's horror, a whole team was being pinned down and slaughtered. Not literally, thank gods, but it was certainly nerve wracking.

Vera slid behind a nearby stone wall covered in moss from years bygone. Ice detonated on the other side of her cover as the enemy guns tracked her.

Her remaining teammate dove cover. Just as he was about to make it, ice exploded on his groin.

Jaune flinched. The man yelped in agony as he was struck.

"ARGH! FUCKING BITCH!" He dropped his gun, his hands instinctively clutching his nethers protectively. The Instructor was going to have a field day when it came to grading. Even Jaune clued in early on that one did not simply just abandon their weapon.

Then again, considering the way the man was hopping to cover and writhing around, he could empathise.

Vera ducked down, trying to stop him from rolling out into the open to be shot again.

Her first teammate that was shot in the leg began to crawl towards the ruins, only narrowly avoiding being struck by the dust rounds sailing overhead.

"Give him covering fire!" Jaune ordered. Roy nodded. His teammates began to focus their collectively fire in the general direction where the enemy was. It did nothing. The automatic fire continued.

"Shit, how many of them are there? The whole bloody team?!" exclaimed one of Roy's men.

Small plumes of dust were kicked up as rounds fell short, and ice exploded where they made contact.

The forest and associated clearing was slowly turning into an ice field.

"Keep firing!" roared Roy.

One of the enemy guns began to arc in their direction. Ice exploded square on one of Roy's soldiers foreheads.

His helmet protected him from the brunt of the impact, but ice travelled down his face, freezing it temporarily.

"Argh?! Holy hell that's cold!" he exclaimed, flailing backwards onto his rear. He was out of commission now. A casualty in this mock war game.

"Dammit!" Roy cursed. "Where the hell is Cardin?!"

Jaune's lips thinned as he peered around a tree and returned fire with his own gun.

Meanwhile, the soldier shot in the leg continued to crawl towards Vera's position. He screamed in fright as ice detonated all around him.

He was so close to the safety of the ruins. He just needed to cross a few more metres!

"Jack!" screamed Vera as she saw her teammate crawling his way. "Hold on!"

She reached out to pull him in. He was too far however.

"Dammit, hold on! I'm coming!" she ran out of her cover to grab Jack and pull him in to safety.

An ice dust pellet struck her elbow, freezing the entire join temporarily.

"Fuck!" she roared, recoiling in surprise.

Jack was not so fortunate. Ice exploded all over his back, turning him into their third 'fatality' thus far.

She scampered back to cover, nursing her shot arm. Her attempts to pull her comrade to cover had failed, and all she had to show for it was her own incapacitation.

Jaune grimaced as he kept up a barrage of fire against the trees. They still couldn't even see who was shooting them!

Things were falling apart, and they were falling apart fast. It was an unending stream of automatic fire from the treeline. Dispersed to arc over a large area.

And yet, right as the chaos was at its zenith, a ray of hope burst forth into action.

Cardin and his squad began to engage the soldiers in the woods. The guns originally suppressing them were now silent as their wielders were forced to contend with a threat from the rear.

It took too long for them to react, and the sound of Cardin's guns firing could be heard, a soft ratata. Almost akin to a paintball round. Only instead of paint, ice exploded through the bushes.

And then silence. Punctuated by the sound of someone on the enemy team letting out a vicious curse as they were forced to concede defeat.

Not even a minute later and Cardin came out of the woods carrying Sky who was limping with a thin layer of ice encasing his foot.

Amber, alongside Russel and Dove trailed behind them.

Jaune stood up.

"Guys! You okay?"

Amber waved back in his direction. It was Russel who replied, calling back.

"Yeah! We toasted those guys!"

"Fuck off you did!" called one of the now 'dead' enemy soldiers.

"Shut up!" he wheeled around to the treeline. "The dead don't speak!"

"Eat a dick!" came the reply.

Cardin's team crossed the clearing, taking care not to step on the slippery sheets of ice growing everywhere following the mock engagement,

"Man, you really saved our asses here," chuckled Vera as they entered the ruins. "Thanks by the way."

"So how many of them did you waste?" demanded Roy eagerly, nursing his rifle.

Cardin shook his head as he sat down behind cover in the sprawling ruins. He helped ease Sky down, while Amber immediately popped open a first aid kit and began to assess and treat his 'wounds'.

They were being graded on all aspects in this exercise, and first-aid was one of them. So would triage, but currently all hands were on deck right now to treat everyone else's 'injuries'.

"Honestly? Not that many. There was only about four of them in the treeline," he revealed with a shrug.

Roy couldn't believe what he was hearing. Neither could Jaune, but he at least kept calm (read didn't scream out loud).

"What?! Bullshit!"

"It's the truth," Dove confirmed. Everyone exchanged glances.

They got wasted by a team of four people and had incurred so many losses. And all they had to show for it was a measly four enemy combatants out of the twelve they were up against.

Jaune frowned at Cardin's words.

If there was only a small handful of enemy soldiers engaging them from the treeline, then where were the rest of them?

He felt his hackles raise, and the more he thought about it, the more paranoid he grew.

Is this an ambush?

No. It couldn't be. If it were, then now would be the perfect time while they were out in the open and vulnerable. And even if it were, they could always hide back in the ruins and play out a war of attrition.

So if it were an ambush, then it wasn't an obvious one.

He narrowed his eyes.

So what could it be?

"They had a lot of automatic weapons to switch between," Russel pointed out. "That's how they were achieving so much suppression. They all had a significant amount of ammo too."

Dove nodded. "My guess it was to sow confusion and make their force appear larger than it actually was."

Jaune frowned. If that were true, then where was the rest of their team?

At this point, they had the flag. All they needed to do was walk it back to the checkpoint and –

"The checkpoint!" his eyes went wide with realization.

Cardin and Amber spun their heads to him.

"It's the checkpoint. That's where they're waiting for us. They knew it wouldn't be worth risking fighting for the ruins, especially if we got there first."

Cardin's eyes slowly went wide before spitting out a curse.

He'd assumed that the enemy would try and contest the ruins. But instead they decided to let him have them. They only sent one small squad with automatic guns purely as a distraction to make him think it was being contested. When really it was to whittle him down.

And once he decided to leave with the flag, just like they were about to, they would walk right into an ambush at the checkpoint unawares.

And then we'd be pincered by the diversion force as they closed in behind us. They wouldn't even need the flag as we'd become mince-meat.

Whoever their commander was, they certainly were no slouch.

"We can't go to the checkpoint," he began.

The others who were chattering ceased talking. They looked at him oddly.

"What do you mean we can't go to the checkpoint?" growled Roy.

"We've got the flag, and we've taken down one of their teams!"

He shook his head.

"It's an ambush. We've already lost half of our fighting capacity."

The group of 'wounded' glowered angrily as they were field dressed by Amber and a few others. The ice would melt, and the bruises would fade. But the damage to their egos would take a long time to recover.

He glanced at the remaining troops under his command.

Three simulated dead. And four simulated wounded, though the welts and bruises would have them complaining they were actually wounded. All of which would require aid to transport.

To move them and their carriers into an active combat zone would spell demise for the whole team. But they also couldn't leave people behind. That was against the core values of the VSDF.

With seven people down out of the thirteen they started with, that left six left. Himself, Amber, Cardin, Roy, Dove and Russel. Sky, Vera, and the other three were considered unable to walk and would require assistance to move, but the first two had non-lethal injuries and could technically hole down and fight defensively from this position. They just couldn't walk on their own unassisted due to their leg wounds. Of which Sky made sure to bitch about incessantly.

"It's a fucking bruise, you'll live," Amber snapped irately. "God's you're not actually wounded."

"It stings!" he whined.

Her teeth ground together audibly as she glared his way.

"I swear to the gods above, I'll shoot you for real if you don't shut up!"

Cardin glanced at him with thin lips. It was hard to discern what exactly he was thinking about, but judging by the furrowing of his brows, Jaune could deduce the man was uncertain.

"So what do we do then?"

That was a good question.

"Well, we have to fight them obviously," snapped Roy.

Jaune winced. Again, they were down to half their force, while the enemy team was down to two thirds.

"Maybe we don't need to fight them…" he ventured. There had to be an alternative. He just wasn't seeing it.

Instructor Ballsin stood by with his clipboard ominously. He was as silent as a statue. Only the faint scribble of pen on his pages could be heard as he took notes and assessed them.

"They're expecting us to come with the flag so they can ambush us," Jaune surmised.

"Well, duh," Roy rolled his eyes. "Anything else you want to point out?"

"Why don't we let them think they have it then?"

Both NCO's stared at him.

"How?" demanded Cardin.

"Well, we know that only the team captain can actually plant the captured flag. How about we bait him out by making him think he's captured the flag?"

The two NCOs exchanged looks before turning back to Jaune for clarification. He obliged.

"We have four of the enemy soldiers dead. Why don't we take their uniforms and pretend we've stolen the flag and are returning it?"

The Instructor stopped his writing and looked up. Even the others seemed perplexed.

"Uh, isn't that a war-crime?" asked Cardin.

Jaune stared at him deadpan. "You literally kidnapped civilians at gunpoint on our first mission. Don't lecture me about what constitutes a warcrime. Because your actual one beats my simulated one. Now do you want to pass or not?"

Taken aback by his non-plussed attitude, Cardin ceded.

"If we take their uniforms, we can pretend we're fleeing with the flag."

Roy did not seem as convinced.

"Yeah, but how are we going to plant the flag? We need you in order to plant it."

Jaune took a deep breath.

"That's why I'll go with whoever to ensure it can be planted. But that's not what I'm actually hoping for."

"Wait, what? Then what are you hoping for?! That's suicide!"

"I'm hoping for the enemy Captain to reveal himself to relieve us of the flag."

Their eyes went wide with surprise.

"You want to actually target the Captain?"

Jaune nodded. "Yeah. That's our best bet at victory. If we're so close to the finish line, it would make sense to simply take the win when it presents itself like that. I mean, why would they suspect us?"

"I dunno? Because we wouldn't be charging in to attack like they suspect?" Roy countered as if it were obvious.

Jaune shook his head. "Simple. We convince him that his plan is working. That it's working so well we're actually being beaten by it." He explained.

"You guys will give pursuit and shoot at our direction to sell it."

Cardin regarded them all with a weary glance.

"Yeah, but we should also keep in mind we only got four of their guys. They might have had an observer for all we know. If we rock up with four guys and they've reported them as dead, then we'll be one team being caught by two."

"I don't know about you, but skill or not, I don't fancy our odds in that kind of a situation."

"Then we'll need to make it convincing," surmised Roy, thumbing his chin. "We don't send four people. We send two. That way we can claim they actually did survive."

"And you thought the original idea was a suicide run? Who'd be crazy enough to go out there with only one other person?"

Jaune couldn't believe what he was about to say.

"I'll go." He righteously received a dumbfounded look of shock.

"You can't be serious. Not only do you want to gamble the flag on this plan, but you want to go out personally? If you get caught, we're toast for this assessment."

"We'll also be incredibly close to planting the flag. Even if we don't get the enemy Captain, at the very least we'll be close enough to plant, and only I can do that," Jaune snapped.

Roy massaged the bridge of his nose. "Fuck sake…." He looked around dejectedly.

"So, who else wants to go on a suicide run? Because that's what you're asking for."

Amber stood up, keeping a hand on Sky's leg to apply pressure to his simulated wound.

"I'll go," she said immediately.

Roy glanced her way with a doubtful expression. "Um, no offence, but we only have four guys killed."

"So?" what was the problem, her glare seemed to imply.

"Well…" trailed of Roy uncomfortably.

Sky helped. "What he means to say is those four obviously dudes don't have tits and a cunt. So it's obvious they're you're not a dude."

He let out a pained scream as Amber suddenly applied extra pressure to his leg.

"Brother gods! Are you TRYING to break my leg?!"

"My hand slipped," she ground out, shooting him a withering glare.

Roy shook his head. "Way with words, lady-killer," he drawled out sardonically.

"I'll go," suddenly said Cardin, pushing himself forward.

Jaune looked at him in surprise. "Wait, really?"

"Look, you'll be in close proximity to the enemy team. And no offence, but your CQB skills leave a lot to be desired. And considering our options, I'm really the only person best suited to accompany you."

It made sense, Jaune realized. Cardin was a Huntsman candidate, AND he had Aura. Although the two were not necessarily exclusive, coming part and parcel. It was still heavily invaluable to have someone capable of not only tanking damage on his behalf, but also dishing it out in close proximity.

"Okay, great. But how are we going to convince them not to shoot at you in the first place?" Roy asked, incredulous. He was already having doubts about this whole plan.

Jaune grimaced.

"I have an idea about that…. But you might not like it…"

Cardin panted alongside him as they made a full on mad sprint towards the checkpoint where the enemy was most likely waiting.

"Might not like it," he paraphrased between breaths.

"I told you in advance! Stop blaming me!" Jaune threw back with a scream as a dust round tore by his head.

Those idiots. That was way too close.

"I will blame you, because this was your idea in the first place!" Cardin growled as they both vaulted over a fallen log.

"Hey! You're the one that volunteered to come along!" Jaune snapped back.

"Yeah? That was before you decided to have our own people SHOOT at us!"

A spray of dust pellets kicked up a volley of dust and fallen leaves by their feet.

"Just keep running!" Jaune screamed. The panic was all too real.

If there were any doubts about them giving an authentic performance to lull the enemy team, then they were successfully answered right here and now.

He just hoped they didn't get shot by the enemy team. If they were actually where he predicted they should be.

"Hey, stop! Halt!"

Right on cue, a voice emerged from a nearby bush they were racing by. Jaune caught a glimpse of two people tucked away to his right, rifles ready. What stood out the most however were the gobsmacked expressions on their faces as he ran right by without a second thought.

"No time! We've got the flag!" he screamed. At this point he was more afraid of being shot by his own team than the enemy.

Stunned, the group of soldiers watching over the chokepoint could only watch as Jaune and Cardin tore by them.

And then they began to shoot.

Jaune thought he was about to die. That their cover had been blown.

Only, the guns weren't firing at them. But rather past them.

The enemy team was providing covering fire for him to run right by.

And who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Holy shit, that actually worked?!

It did, because not only had they now ran past the ambush that was now locked in fierce battle with his real team, but the platform on which the flag was to be mounted was now visible.

About 200 metres away in a clearing where several trucks were parked was the pile a sandbags from earlier. The very pile with which he needed to mount the flag.

Forget the enemy captain, he could plant this thing right now and win the match! There was no-one to stop him!

Two figures moved out from the trees. They were dressed in army fatigues, and they both wore a blue patch. They were the enemy team, and judging by the way one of them beckoned Cardin forward, they were anticipating him.

"Come, pass me the flag!" the guy called out, arms extended.

"Captain, that you?!" called out Cardin, selling the act.

"Who else?" he replied, confused.

That was all Cardin needed as he charged forwards. Raising his service gun, he aimed it at the guy who was clearly surprised, and let forth a burst of dust pellets.

The man didn't even have time to scream before he was knocked to the ground and covered in a thin layer of ice. His partner did scream however.

"What?! We're on the same side –grk?!" he received several icy rounds to his chest.

"No, we're not," Cardin roared as he raced past the downed combatant. Jaune trailed him several steps behind.

They did it. They actually did it. They cleared the Final Assessment! But why was the enemy Captain's biometric alarm not blaring?

Cardin suddenly cried out, and ice encased his face.

Jaune didn't have time to stop, his momentum carrying him forward and suddenly into his stunned comrade.

They both crashed to the ground in a tumble of feet, hands and equipment.

"Oof!" Jaune let out a winded gasp as he skidded to a stop on his stomach. His gun remained clasped in his hands and outstretched. Cardin lay tangled in his legs.

What happened? He tried to shake his head, still temporarily dazed, his head jostled. In his defence, a helmet offered concussive protection against external threats, but that didn't mean it wasn't capable of causing one on its own. Case in point right now.

While he may have struggled to correct his swimming vision, he could still make out the silhouette of a third figure approaching. And that third figure was wielding the colours of the enemy team, and an assault weapon.

Cardin groaned from under him, and a cursory glance revealed that his whole chest and face was covered with a thin layer of ice. He was officially out of the game.

He was now on his own.

Meanwhile the lone figure stalked closer and closer.

"I wasn't expecting you to actually just up and offer me the flag," a voice called. It came from the enemy approaching him.

"But I'm more than happy enough to accept it."

This guy's the enemy Captain! He realised. He was also alone, probably no doubt not expecting the enemy to actually break through.

Cardin rubbed his face tenderly. Legally, he could not continue to battle as he had been 'killed'. If the thin sheet of ice covering his face was any indicator.

This leaves it all up to me. Jaune realized. And with growing horror, he began to realise that perhaps he had overestimated his own plan.

No time like the present. He instantly pulled his rifle up and let loose a volley of rubber dust rounds.

Shocked, the lone soldier quickly dove for cover behind a tree. Jaune took the opportunity to scramble on all fours like a rat to one on the opposite side of the small clearing.

He slid behind it, clutching his rifle like a lifeline as he breathed heavily.

That was way too close!

Several rounds suddenly impacted the tree he was hiding behind. He flinched, tucking into himself.

Even though they weren't real rounds, he was still afraid of being hit.

The volley stopped, and the sound of a fresh magazine being inserted echoed out.

He had to act. Now!

Leaning around the tree with his rifle, he opened fire, emptying his entire magazine into the tree where the enemy captain was taking cover.

The tree shook as his rounds sailed up in a messy arc and over the captain's head.

A few rounds glanced off of some branches over his head. The whole tree shuddered. The sound of wood snapping could be heard as one round impacted a branch with enough force to nearly tear it off. Ice encapsulated around it.

Idly he couldn't help but gawk at how powerful the 'non-lethal' ammunition was.

It would certainly hurt to be hit by that!

Unfortunately, his own magazine ran dry. As he ducked behind the tree to reload, a hand falling into his magazine pouch, he felt confusion suddenly build.

Where was his other magazine.

He stopped to look as he pat himself down.

Oh no. That was his last magazine. He had expended the last of his ammunition.

He was completely at the mercy of the enemy captain. Even if he didn't push him, it was only a matter of time until his team arrived to finish him off.

He couldn't even launch his own counterattack because he lacked a range element to successfully cross the open clearing.

It would have been impossible to reach the enemy captain. Yet, by some stroke of fate, luck was on Jaune's side.

Jaune watched as the mighty branch shuddered before shearing off and falling to the ground of its own accord.

Right on top of the enemy captain's head.

In the process of falling, the man's own rifle turned against him. The barrel jutted under his chin, and his finger slipped.

His head snapped back as ice exploded underneath it, lifting his whole body back into an arch before he collapsed onto the ground on his back. An unceremonious pile of green clothing, and a consequence of really bad luck.

Qrow winced as he watched the whole thing unfold, and at which point he suddenly found the ground more interesting to observe.

Cardin could only watch the events unfold with a gobsmacked expression. His face was coated in disbelief. Well, that and a healthy coating of slowly melting ice.

"What the fuck did I just witness…."

Jaune was of the same opinion.

The enemy Captains biometric alarm blared out, a shrill ear-piercing wail.

"The exercise is over!"

The command was issued by Qrow.

"Blue Team wins by elimination," he called out, holding a radio to his mouth. He seemed to fumble slightly with it, most likely used to communicating on a scroll instead of an antiquated radio. Especially one that was as ancient and near-derelict as the ones the VSDF had issued.

Jaune felt elated as the exercise came to a close.

Tragedy had nearly struck earlier due to his oversight, and as a result they came perilously close to losing the wargame. But a fortunate stroke of luck on his side turned the tide, allowing his team to regain the advantage.

It was a harrowing reminder that carelessness out in the field could prove costly. Fortunately, this was a simulated wargame, and as such, no real casualties nor loss was suffered.

He allowed himself a moment to relax his muscles and just smile.

The exercise was over, and Jaune's team had won.

The Instructor ordered all NCO's to form up on him as they began their trek out of the forest. Qrow escorted all the other recruits, including Amber, out of the forest ahead of them. That left Jaune, Cardin, Vera, Roy and three other recruit NCO's by the names of Tom, Dick and Harry. They were from the opposing team. All were solidly built men, but came from civilian backgrounds prior to this.

Still, they had done well for the assessment, and the Instructor, in a rare gesture of kindness, actually praised them.

Granted, the praise was leveled at all of them, but to be finishing bootcamp on a positive note was a good thing.

"Recruits. You are NCO's right now, and as you have learnt today you are nothing without your team. Just as your team is nothing without you."

They slowly trekked through the woods. The three 'enemy' NCOs took their helmets off, holding them under their arms.

Vera unstrapped her plate carrier from her chest and let it dangle from her arms.

Cardin shot her a weird look as she groaned in relief.

"Trust me, you boys are lucky. This thing is absolutely killer on the chest."

The Instructor frowned, but he didn't say anything.

Jaune supposed since they were in home territory they were safe so it was fine to let it slide. So did the Instructor as he continued.

"I know I have been harsh on you all. But that is to prepare you for the realities of what you will face in the future."

He came to a stop in front of some foliage near a few boulders waist height.

"In war, anyone can die. I hope to god you will be the lucky few, but you will inevitably see your comrades around you die. No matter how hard it hurts, no matter how hopeless you feel, remember that your men will be looking up to you. Always."

His eyes softened a fraction, as if reliving some memory from years yonder.

"Be strong, for their sake. If they see you break down, they will lose hope, and you'll find yourself filling more than just one body bag."

The words were a chilling reminder as to what their job entailed.

Jaune gave pause to think about it.

He just wanted to live a safe life so he could still see his family. He didn't like to view himself as a coward. Then again, perhaps he was. After all, despite these bonds, despite the training, and despite the Instructors words, he still wanted to hide away in the rear echelon.

But I'll be doing good for the people back here, he tried to convince himself.

Tried. And failed.

"The awards ceremony will take place on Monday at 11:00 hours. There will be a big parade as you know, and your families are invited to attend."

Everyone processed everything. Jaune bit back his wince. He still hadn't spoken to his family, and the six weeks of training meant there were probably a ton of missed calls.

"Recruits – no. Soldiers!" The Instructor stood to attention and offered a salute.

Instinctively, everyone came to attention and returned it.

"God's speed, and may you prove victorious."

He dropped the salute and turned around.

Jaune and the others dropped it and began to follow, only to suddenly stop in surprise as the ground in front of the Instructor rose.

He stumbled, letting loose a muttered curse of surprise.

It wasn't the ground rising Jaune realized. It was a wooden hatch, covered in soil and foliage.

And inside was a pair of surprised eyes belonging to a woman with rabbit ears.

Her eyes widened in surprise, brunette curly hair swaying as she ducked back down suddenly. The hatch slammed after her.

The Instructor let out a surprised curse.

"Recruits, stand back!" he ordered before drawing his service pistol.

Unlike their rifles right now, the Instructor was loaded with live ammunition. With a meaty swing, he threw open the camouflaged hatch.

"VSDF!" he screamed into the hole, exposing roots and a perfectly dug square hole which vanished.

"COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP! YOU'RE SURROUNDED!"

The faunus woman didn't have enough time to retreat out of sight, and she backed herself against the wall, her arms held up in terror.

Cardin and the other NCO's began to crowd around the whole, weapons brandished.

Even a training gun was far more useful than no gun.

"Please, don't shoot!" she cried.

She was dressed in a white T-shirt with some pop-band picture inked on it. Blue jeans and brown work boots completed her lower half as she stood there, staring up at them. Her ears wilted a bit.

Cardin felt his face form a snarl.

"A faunus?"

He wasn't the only one showing enmity towards her. Instructor Ballsin had a murderous look across his face.

"Fauns," he spat aloud. "What are you doing out here. This is a restricted military area."

"I-I got lost," she offered with a stammer.

"Bullshit!" he snapped back.

"Step out right now!" he ordered. Her eyes briefly darted deeper into the hole. The part they couldn't see.

The Instructor caught it.

"What are you looking at? Who else is in there!"

"N-no-one!"

"Motherfucker, do not lie to me!" he roared. "WHO THE FUCK IS IN THERE WITH YOU!"

"No-one! I swear!" she began to sob.

Jaune flinched. This wasn't right. To terrify a civilian like this!?

"Step out of the hole, right now! Or I swear to god I'll bury you in it, am I clear."

Her eyes darted back into the hole one more time before flicking back up.

"I-I'm coming out. Don't shoot," she said, slowly.

All guns were trained on her as she inched closer, hands in the air.

"Climb out now," Ballsin ordered.

She complied. Clambering out of the pit, her fingers dug into the soil, becoming caked in dirt.

She glanced around at them quickly, hands held up high over her head as every gun seemed to track her.

"W-why are there eight soldiers here?!" she panicked loudly.

Jaune winced under the volume of her voice.

The Instructor glowered at her.

"What are you doing trespassing on government property?"

He cast an eye back down the hole. It was dark, and he couldn't get a clear angle to see the rest of the way in.

"Who else is down there?" he demanded again.

"No-one! I swear!" she began to cry. Jaune felt his heart beat erratically in his chest.

Cardin shoved his gun into the woman's face, and she paled.

Roy and Vera began to circle the hole, guns drawn as they aimed down it uncertainly.

Tom and Harry moved to support them, while Dick and Roy encircled the woman.

"Sir, she's a civilian," Jaune began, only to be cut off.

"Arc, this is not a civilian. I don't buy that bullshit. WHO SENT YOU!" Ballsin roared.

"HEY! WHO ARE YOU!" Vera suddenly screamed into the hole. The faunus woman stopped crying suddenly.

"Step out into the light!" she ordered to someone within the hole. The faunus woman began to smile as she looked up at them.

Something terrible was about to happen. Even Jaune could feel it.

Instructor Ballsin's face drained.

He wheeled around, a look of horror forming on his face.

"No, get away from the hole!" he screamed.

Too late. The sound of a bolt being racked was like a gunshot in Jaune's ears.

The sound of automatic live gunfire tearing out of the hole was like thunder…

Chapter Text

Arc 1: Chapter 8

The ratatatata of an automatic rifle shooting non-stop drowned out the panicked cries everyone seemed to let loose as they scrambled out of the way.

It was too late for the ones at the tunnel entrance.

Having removed her carrier plate, Vera was left at the mercy of the machine gun within in. Mercy that she didn't receive.

The bullets travelled up in an erratic arc, and her stomach and chest became riddled with holes, blood spraying out the back as she screamed before dropping to the ground.

Several rounds sawed through Tom's neck, leaving it to dangle by a thin thread of meat as he dropped like a sack of potatoes. Dead.

One round clipped the top of Harry's forehead, tearing chunks of skull and frontal lobe up into the air like a confetti at a celebration.

Dick, like Jaune and Cardin, instinctively turned around to see what the hell was going on. The woman took the opportunity the second eyes shifted away from her.

Her hand dropped to her waist before whipping out a small pistol she had hidden.

In quick succession, she fired several rounds off.

Cardin was too far from her side to be the first target. Instead, Dick was the unfortunate one as several 9mm rounds arced up his body.

The first missed entirely, but the second struck halfway down his inner thigh. The third tore straight into his groin, while the forth clipped his elbow.

The rest sailed up as she spun to Jaune, spraying and praying.

Only by sheer luck did his own Kevlar plate protect him from the litany of rounds that impacted his chest.

They didn't penetrate, fortunately, but the impact was enough to send him staggering. At that point Cardin reacted, opening fire with his own rubber slug dust rounds.

Ice exploded against her frame, and she screamed as she was sent back.

The gun tumbled from her grip.

Meanwhile, the Instructor opened fire into the hole, bringing a hand out to shield Roy who was wide eyed with shock.

He swung his rifle around to bear down on the hole, but it was near impossible to aim as his teammates blocked the view of the shooter.

His now dead and dying teammates, who seemed to be collapsing in slow motion.

Tom and Harry were both dead, and Vera was screaming in agony as blood continuously leaked out of her wounds.

Her torso was like a home pool being dismantled with several gaping holes. The blood just wouldn't stop pouring.

The shooter within didn't stop, however. Keeping his finger on the trigger, he aimed lower to get a better angle on the soldiers further away.

Jaune hit the ground instinctively as rounds sailed overhead.

That only lasted a second longer before the empty clicking of a dry gun echoed out.

The shooter wasted no time in swapping magazines out.

"FUCK!" roared Roy as he aimed his gun in the direction of the hole and began to open fire.

Rubber dust rounds impacted the dirt, detonating into chunks of ice. They all missed the figure who had ducked into cover.

Ballsin's hand-gun clicked dry as he emptied the last round. He swore as he quickly reached for his spare magazine. He only had the one.

The bolt racked within the hole as the shooter within chambered a new round from a fresh magazine.

Cardin swore. "HIT THE DECK!"

Fresh rounds tore overhead. Ballsin screamed aloud as several arced through him and Roy.

He received several to the gut. Roy's plate carrier saved him, but he was sent flying back from the sheer power of the rounds.

"SHOOT JAUNE!" Screamed Cardin. "SHOOT HIM!"

He panicked, his eyes wide with terror.

Holy hell, this can't be real!

"JAUNE SHOOT FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

Cardin opened fire into the hole, using Dick's body as cover. The involuntary meatshield wailed in pain.

The rounds stopped briefly, and Jaune watched as the tip of a man's head peeked over the hole. Faunus cat ears could be seen briefly before a gun was swung over. It was aimed at ground level. And it was aimed in his direction.

His eyes went wide, and he rolled over behind Dick's body. Just in time as a fresh barrage of bullets tore through the air around them.

Dick wailed in pain, the pistol rounds having done their damage as he lay there bleeding out.

The faunus swung his gun over to them.

Rifle rounds tore into Dick's body, with one tearing through his knee in a massive spurt of blood. He screamed.

Jaune yelped in pain as the round continued straight through and grazed his shoulder.

"ARGH! MOMMY!" Dick cried aloud.

More rounds impacted his body, and Jaune could tremble in horror as Dick became a living meatshield against the onslaught.

The Kevlar back plate prevented rounds traveling through his torso. The same could not be said for his limbs, pelvis and neck.

His screams died as blood exploded all around them.

Jaune clung to his rifle tightly, clenching it like a life-line.

Cardin's face met his, only inches apart as he too kept his head down.

The rounds stopped, and by now only the screams of Vera and Roy echoed out.

Vera's died on her lips as a single gunshot rang through the air.

The shooter had just executed her.

"Jaune, we have to kill him now!" Cardin yelled, partially deafened by the gunfire.

Logically, he agreed with Cardin. But as it was, he was frozen in terror.

Come Jaune, ACT! His mind screamed.

His mental war cry became vocal as he rolled over onto his stomach and pulled the trigger on his gun.

Rubber rounds tore the air at ground level and exploded at the shooter's head height. He ducked down.

Cardin leapt up. "That's it Jaune! Keep him pinned!"

The sound of a hand gun being reloaded echoed behind them. Jaune spun his head, only to see the woman faunus earlier laying there, covered in crystalised ice, bruised and battered. She was pointing her handgun weakly in his direction.

He didn't have time to react.

Instructor Ballsin did however, and he mag-dumped her with his handgun. She toppled over dead.

Roy stood up, clenching his gun.

"Guys, you alright!?" he yelled.

Cardin went wide-eyed.

"YOU IDIOT! GET THE FUCK DOWN!"

The gunfire returned in a short burst, and several rounds impacted Roy's back-plate. One ripped through the back of his neck, severing his jugular. He gurgled on his own blood as he toppled over, his gun clattering uselessly to the ground.

"FUCK!" Cardin roared as he ducked down behind Tom's near-headless corpse. He was much closer to the hole by now.

Jaune went to grab another magazine, only to realise in horror he was out of ammo. All of the rounds had been expended during the exercise.

Fuck's sake! His mind roared.

The faunus in the pit was not alone. A second fauus woman with rabbit ears suddenly appeared, wielding her own automatic rifle.

"FUCK YOU HUMANS!" She screamed before opening fire.

She was too busy shooting in their general direction that she failed to recognize Cardin was very close to the entrance of her dugout.

Peering to the side of the corpse, he spied the side of her face. It was resting in a furious snarl as she held the trigger down.

He angled his rifle over the body.

Got ya, he snarled.

He fired a burst into her cheek.

Rubber rounds at such close range were incredibly effective.

They sent her flying with a pained scream, stunned.

The momentary lapse in gunfire was all he needed as he pushed himself up and leaned into the hole.

The cat faunus man looked up in surprise as Cardin loomed over him, a barrel pointing in his face. The faunus was in the middle of racking the bolt to his rifle when Cardin surprised him.

Cardin didn't hesitate.

He emptied the rest of the magazine into his face and chest.

The faunus screamed as ice crystals instantly grew over the heavy welts and bruises he received.

Cardin vaulted down into the pit.

For a normal human, that would have been suicide. But Cardin was not normal. He was a Huntsman candidate, and he had the aura to back himself up.

He slammed the stock of his rifle into the cat-man's temple, sending him sprawling to the ground, before ditching his rubber gun, and picking up the fully loaded real one.

He racked the bolt, aimed into the darkness, and pulled the trigger.

The small pit lit up, revealing stacks of crates hidden underground and a small cot.

There was no-one else present as far as he could see, but Cardin didn't care.

Better safe than sorry.

He emptied the magazine fully into the darkness. The rounds shredded wooden crates open, reducing cover into concealment, and concealment into splinters.

If there was anyone else hiding in the small den, they weren't anymore.

The gun clicked dry, and Cardin finally exhaled the breath he realized he had been holding.

Jaune stumbled over to the edge of the hole.

"You get them?" he asked.

Cardin looked around before settling his gaze on the two faunus lying inside the pit. They groaned in pain as they clutched their injuries tenderly.

"Shit!" Jaune went wide eyed. "The others!"

He glanced around, only to be greeted by death.

Bloody, gory, merciless death.

Tom lay half dangling into the pit, his neck stump seeping blood which was pooling under Cardin's feet.

Harry had tumbled into the pit entirely, chunks of his brain matter oozing out. As for Vera?

Jaune stared at her pale, lifeless face, a trail of blood leaking from her the corner of her half-open lips.

Her chest was stained red, and the fabric torn as nearly a dozen holes leaked the last of her blood out.

He stumbled over to where Roy and Instructor Ballsin were.

Roy was lying there, motionless. Jaune crashed down next to him, his own face covered in Dick's blood.

"Roy? Roy!" he called out.

He didn't respond. He reached over to flip him over, only to watch in horror as half his neck came apart.

The vertebrae underneath was showing, having only been just nicked. As for the rest? His jugular was severed and still draining blood. His trachea was torn asunder, though it was hard to make out with the mass of bloodied meat greeting him.

His face was pale, and he lay there unmoving.

Jaune felt his stomach's contents threaten to erupt.

This couldn't be happening. It couldn't!

"R-recruit Arc…" groaned the Instructor.

Jaune's head spun so fast he nearly tore it off.

"Drill Sergeant! You're alive!" He would have been the only one aside from himself and Cardin.

The two faunus within the pit screamed as Cardin dragged them by their hair. He dumped them face-first into the ground unceremoniously.

He was wielding a confiscated gun, of which he was clicking a new magazine into place.

"Help me up," Ballsin grit out, clutching his bleeding stomach.

He had not been wearing a protective carrier plate. There was no need to as he was only an observer during this exercise.

"But sir, you're bleeding!" Jaune exclaimed.

"The Instructor glared at him weakly.

"I am not sir. You know that already recruit. Now help me – ugh- up already dammit."

Jaune knelt down before helping to hoist the man up.

With an arm draped around his shoulder, Ballsin made to step towards the two captive faunus.

They were pressed face-first into the ground by Cardin. His boot ground the woman's head into the soil, while he shoved the barrel of the rifle into the base of the man's skull.

Instructor Ballsin sneered.

"Pathetic."

He grit his teeth as Jaune assisted him closer.

"Winchester. Give me that." He didn't even wait for Cardin to acknowledge the order before snatching the rifle from him.

Cardin looked miffed, but upon seeing the murderous expression of the Instructor he remained silent.

"Fucking animals. I haven't killed one of you fucks in many years."

He pulled the slide back to see a fresh round chambered. He let it slide back ominously before fixing them both with vicious glare.

"Brings back memories." He snapped the barrel to the man's head. The cat faunus sneered back, blood dribbling down his forehead.

"Damn good memories," Ballsin continued. "Let's make some more! Stand back Winchester."

He did as he was ordered, and Jaune suddenly found his eyes going wide as Ballsin aimed the gun at the two faunus.

Enemy or not, these were now unarmed prisoners of war! Killing an active combatant was one thing. Shooting a prisoner was an entirely different thing.

"No!" He cried out. Before Ballsin could pull the trigger, Jaune yanked the rifle back.

A small burst erupted from the barrel, missing the two prisoners who yelped in terror.

"Recruit, what the fuck are you doing!" The Instructor screamed.

"They're unarmed prisoners now!" Jaune screamed back as he wrestled for control of the gun.

"We can't kill prisoners!"

"Son, they're murderers! NOW LET GO!"

They both collapsed to the ground as they wrestled around.

For an old guy who had been shot, Jaune was quick to realise just how strong he was.

Despite being younger and relatively unharmed, the Instructor was most certainly a force to be reckoned with.

"It's against the rules of war to murder someone like this!"

Cardin stepped back in shock. Ballsin grit his teeth.

"You fucking fool. These animals will slit your throat happily if you show them mercy. They just killed your friends. And now you want to show them MERCY?!"

Ballsin seemed to snap, his control on the gun becoming even stronger.

"Whose side are you on soldier! Theirs?"

Jaune grit his teeth as he ended up on top of the Instructor. The rifle was now parallel with both their bodies, the barrel separating their faces from touching.

"I signed up to be a soldier. NOT A MURDERER!"

"ALL WAR IS, IS MURDER! Have you learnt nothing?!"

"Haven't you?!" Jaune screamed. The barrel began to shift slowly up into Jaune's face. He leaned back.

"I have!" Ballsin spat. "I've learnt that you can never reason with these animals. The only solution for their kind is to put a bullet in their heads. And that's exactly what I'm going to do. Now give me the god damned gun! RECRUIT, I'M NOT FUCKING AROUND! I WILL LOCK YOUR ASS UP IN THE SMALLEST DARKEST HOLE KNOWN TO MAN FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!"

"Then why not send them there?! They're unarmed!"

"Fine. You don't want to kill them? Then you can join them!"

"NO!" Jaune screamed, and he threw all of his body weight forward. Right into the gun, and right into the Instructor.

The gun slammed into Ballsin's chest, the barrel lined up directly under his chin. And it discharged in that exact position.

Jauen felt the instructor's grip go slack as the top of his head exploded off in a geyser blast of blood, bone and brain.

Jaune recoiled, letting go of the gun with a fearful expression. His eyes lit up in terror as he realized what he had just done.

"Instructor! Sir…!"

The man was not moving, nor would he ever again.

"Jaune…" muttered Cardin with wide eyes. Petrified eyes met shocked ones.

"I-I…" Jaune worked his mouth, but he couldn't form the right words to say. Not that they even existed. What did you say to this?

The two faunus whimpered.

"Oh my god. Please…. Please don't kill us," pleaded the rabbit woman.

Cardin slowly turned to stare at her.

"What did you just say?"

Jaune climbed off the deceased Instructor's body. His nerves were beyond frayed.

Jaune held the still smoking rifle in his hands. He looked at it like it was cursed.

"You fucking humans man," snarled the cat faunus with a tremble. "You really are something special, huh."

Jaune shook his head slowly. "I didn't mean to…"

"Oh, but you did!" the faunus spat. "You're just like the rest of your kind. Murderous scum, the whole lot of you!" a tear passed down his cheek.

Cardin bared his teeth as he hissed.

"We're not the ones who dropped a bomb on innocent civilians you fuck." He approached Jaune.

"Oh, yes you did. Your kind have enslaved us. Belittled us. Exploited us. Murdered us. Raped us. KILLED US!"

Cardin snatched the gun from Jaune's hands. He didn't have the strength to resist. His mind was still abuzz from what had just happened.

Am I murderer now….

"So what. You can't just take it out on innocent people who had nothing to do with your problems!" Cardin thrust the barrel into his face.

The rabbit faunus flinched, tears streaming down her face as she laid there. The cat faunus glared up at him defiantly, but Cardin saw the tremours in his frame. Saw his resolve begin to crumble. It was hard to act tough when a gun was in your face.

"You bastards killed my family when you decided to drop a bomb on the middle of Vale. Kids were burned alive because of your actions."

"Ha? You care when it's human lives, but where was this level of indignation when protestors were being shot in Atlas. When children were being ripped from their mothers!" The faunus hocked a gob of spit and sent it hurtling into Cardin's face.

Cardin grit his teeth, a low growl escaping him.

Jaune placed a hand on his shoulder. He still had a shocked face as he continued to process what was going on.

"Cardin… Please. It's not worth it."

"The fuck you mean it isn't worth it?!"

"Cardin, please. We've already had enough killing for one day. Please, let's just tie them up and wait for our allies." He was pleading right now. Cardin felt his face twitch, his eyes beginning to tear up.

"Why, Jaune. Why do they get to live, but our friends have to die? Why does my sister have to die, but they get live!"

His face fell apart, and Jaune sucked his lips in as he tried so hard not to fall apart any further. Cardin trembled as he looked ready to break down crying. He sniffed.

"It's not fair, Jaune! IT'S NOT FAIR!"

It wasn't.

"How are we going to explain the Instructor?" Jaune asked. He was nervous over that.

Cardin hissed. "Simple. He was killed by them."

"Ha? You fuckers really think that'll work?" the cat faunus decried. He gnashed his teeth.

"I'll tell 'em the truth. That you fragged your own officer."

Jaune sucked a breath in. Oh, this was bad. This was really bad.

"Really?" Cardin raised an angry eyebrow.

"And how do you plan on telling them if you're dead?" he swung the gun around and put the barrel into the man's face. The faunus went wide eyed as he realized Cardin wasn't bluffing. His eyes held the same murderous rage as Ballsin and them.

Juane felt his eyes go wide.

"Cardin, NO!"

Cardin pulled the trigger, and in one swift motion blew the man's brains out the back of his head.

"CARDIN!"

The rabbit faunus screamed. The body fell over backwards.

Jaune ran to grab the gun, but he was too slow. Cardin spun it around and leveled it onto the rabbit faunus.

He pulled the trigger, and emptied the remainder of the magazine into her.

Blood sprayed onto the ground angrily as she flopped over dead.

Jaune came to a stop, his arms swinging by his side uselessly.

"Cardin…"

The remaining survivor slowly turned his head back to Jaune. He looked him in the eye, his face devoid of emotion.

"Now no-one knows the truth, Jaune. Only us."

"…Why…" he gaped, defeated.

Cardin dropped the gun to the ground.

"Because that's what friends do. Right?" He looked up at Jaune, a frail smile adorning his face.

"I did it for you."

Jaune looked at him in horror…

When Qrow found them it was covered in blood and sitting amidst a field of corpses. Both young men looked catatonic.

Qrow wasted no time in radioing in for support, and within half an hour the whole forest was teeming with military police.

Paramedics escorted the two back to base for treatment. The whole time their team clung to them, with Amber literally clinging to Jaune as she fussed over him. He was in too much of a shock to reply, his mind still reeling from the events.

The rest of the weekend was spent in a military hospital undergoing psychiatric evaluation and providing a testimony to what had happened. Jaune was still trying to process the events from the other day. Amber clung to his side, offering moral support where needed. There was not much she could do however. She didn't know the truth. And if he had his way, no-one ever would.

No-one knew what really happened that day. About how they were ambushed, and how everyone was gunned down without regard. All of those promising recruits, soon to be leaders sent to the front to provide victory for the VSDF. All dead.

And no-one knew about Instructor Ballsin. About his real cause of death.

Jaune still flinched as he recalled what happened.

It was an accident. He kept telling himself that over and over. He knew it was. Really. But it didn't change the fact that he had accidentally killed his Instructor.

Oddly enough, he wasn't afraid of the guilt that should have been gnawing at him. Rather, it was the possibility of being outed as a murderer and arrested. Of being sent to a military prison.

He bit back a bitter chuckle.

How ironic. He joined the VSDF because he was afraid of going to the front lines to die, and yet here he was even more afraid of being sent to the far rear and locked in a prison. The irony of a prison cell being safer than the front wasn't lost on him.

The only other person who knew as Cardin. And as it was, he didn't know what to think of his teammate.

The man had outright executed those prisoners. It wasn't an accident either. It was cold, deliberate, calculated murder.

He had seen the look in Cardin's eyes, and he had seen how he reacted after.

Cardin always seemed a little unstable, going between bouts of supporting him one day, and then despising him the very next. Now, however, it had gone too far.

He couldn't even report Cardin's murder without fear of reprisal from the VSDF. He could easily let slip that he had been the one to shoot the Instructor.

Nevermind the fact that even the Instructor was going to kill them in cold blood.

This wasn't what he signed up for. He needed to get away from this.

Unfortunately, he couldn't leave the military. But he sure as hell could apply for a transfer to the rear echelons. So that was what he was going to do come Monday.

Monday arrived, and any plans for the parade had been dashed following the tragic loss of life the other day. Instead, a mourning service was provided for the deceased recruits out of respect.

Jaune, like the others, was still required to attend. He would have gone anyways.

He was dressed in a white ceremonial dress uniform and peak cap, replete with gold aiguillettes.

All the attack did was strike a bitter chord within many of the servicemen and women in the VSDF, and incense the public even further.

It wasn't enough to bomb a civilian population, but now faunus spies had actively slaughtered recruits who hadn't even graduated. They weren't even carrying real guns during the attack for crying out loud! They were as defenseless as civilians in the broader community's eyes.

After the service was held, everyone awaited their examination results.

They came the very next day in sealed letters bearing each recruits name and number.

Tentatively, Jaune held his unsealed letter before him. The sounds of nervous recruits ripping open paper and reading their results could be heard. Sighs of relief accompanied some. Others, grumbles of discontent. For the vast majority, however, it was silence.

With great trepidation, Jaune began to open his letter. And felt his eyes widen.

This- this can't be right?!

He held the letter out fully to read.

Recruit NCO Corporal Jaune Arc

With this letter, I hereby declare you as a qualified solider of the Vale Self Defense Force Ground Army.

May you serve with distinction and honour, and vanquish our enemies both domestic and foreign.

Your results are listed below. The higher your score, the greater preference you will receive in being transferred to your desired unit.

Signed: Brigadier General Owen Sapphire, 3rd Army, 1st Battalion.

Your performance metrics:

First examination: 1%

Weapons handling: Satisfactory

Land navigation: Exemplary

PT scores: Satisfactory

Final Assessment: 100%

Battle Assessment: Satisfactory

Jaune stared at the letter, half expecting it to be disintegrate in his hands or be snatched away. This couldn't be right?

His results were… good?

Scratch that, they were way beyond good?!

Apparently so, because come time to fill out his transfer papers and choose which battalion to join, he was given preferential treatment. Sort of.

There were other candidates that ranked highly as well, and they were all given equal, if not greater, preference than he.

However most, as predicted, were eager to sign up for more high-octane divisions. Front-line deployments, specialist programs (heavy weapons and more specialised weapons; no-one was considered for special forces at this point). The list of combat opportunities was endless.

One option, however, stood out the most to him. It glowed like a pot of gold under a spotlight in his eyes.

3rd Battalion Supply & Logistics Corp.

As rear echelon as one could reasonably be.

Tucked away in the outskirts of Vale, the Logistics Corp specialized in overseeing the production and transportation of munitions, equipment, and other military infrastructure.

The careers and opportunities officer was ecstatic to help him sign into the battalion, citing not many people actually wanted to work in such a mundane job.

Cardin and his friends were somewhat disappointed to realise they would be parting ways.

"I was kinda hoping we'd be sticking together. We're battle buddies after all?" Cardin joked, fixing Jaune a reminding look that had him pale.

"We were forged in blood. That sort of grit and brotherhood is powerful."

Juane wouldn't disagree per se, but in his humble opinion he had already experienced more than his fair share. And frankly, he was also eager to deploy somewhere quiet. He still hadn't communicated with his family, let alone seen them, since enlisting.

It would be good to face-time them and catch up. He had a lot of explaining to do. And perhaps even apologise for.

I'll do just that once I arrive.

Unfortunately, Amber did not take news of his transfer well.

"Jaune!" she wailed, clinging to his frame as tears streamed down her puffy cheeks.

He was no stranger to having women cry on him. Seven sisters that could be so melodramatic and moody taught him to just simply go with the flow. But this was the first time he found himself being choked out by a distraught huntress.

"A-Amber!" he croaked out as she squeezed him. His arms tried to flail, but that would imply he could even move them.

"I-I can't… breath!"

She ignored him, sobbing as if he were dying. His dress uniform was absolutely soaked by now.

After Dove helped pry her off, he did his best to reassure and calm her.

"Look, I'll be fine."

"You… you'll write letters, right?" she choked out. Hurt puppy-dog eyes stabbed into his heart, and he forced himself to look away.

This was too painful to watch. And pathetic.

"Amber, I'll be fine. I promise."

She was not convinced. The others had to remind her that no, she couldn't join Jaune as she had already signed her paperwork to deploy with them elsewhere.

They spent the rest of the day drinking, chatting and otherwise enjoying themselves.

The very next morning saw them board a mixture of military buses and bullheads. Jaune went aboard the latter.

With one last farewell, he watched as Cardin and the others parted ways with him.

He took a deep breath as the engine roared to life.

It was time to start his new life in safety.

The bullhead set down in the middle of nowhere. Literally.

Stepping outside the door revealed wilderness covered in copious layers of snow.

Civilisation was nowhere to be found. The only exception being the wire fence surrounding a small compound. Aerial antennas and radar dishes protruded from it, and vehicle tracks in the snow revealed a well-worn path in and out of the compound.

Several large military trucks and vehicles with sensor relays and bulky components that he even didn't know the use of lay scattered about.

As the bullhead took off, leaving him standing in full uniform with bags of gear, a short squat man in simple combat fatigues sauntered over to him.

Upon closer inspection, the man had heavily balding black hair, a five o'clock shadow, and the most fatigued expression he had ever witnessed outside of cartoon characters. In his humble opinion anyways. For all he knew, the guy was probably very nice, and really excited to see someone out here who could help –

"Are you the new guy?" the man barked out gruffly.

Jaune straightened and went to attention, letting his belongings rest on the ground.

"Yes sir. Sergeant Jaune Arc, reporting for–"

"Good enough. Come with me," the man cut him off.

Jaune quickly grabbed his belongings and made to follow behind the man as they made their way to, not the compound, but a large open shed instead.

The sound hammers striking steel, and the flashing of lights within greeted them as they drew nearer and nearer. A few muffled curses escaped.

"Um, should I drop my stuff of somewhere first… sir?" Jaune trailed off. The man's eye flicked over to him, and he let loose an irritated grunt.

Jaune trailed off.

"You know, I'll just stay quiet right now…."

They entered the shed, and instantly were met by the sight of soldiers in mechanic fatigues working on several parked vehicles in various states of disassembly.

Oil drums, cables, wheel benches and trolleys, and power tools lay scattered about.

The place reeked of hard labour if the sweat and chemical fumes were any indicator.

Instantly the commotion began to die down as the two entered the shed.

"Officer on deck," someone called, and everyone began to stand.

"At ease," the man accompanying him replied with disinterest.

"Crew chief. This is the newest addition to our outpost. I'll let you fill him in."

A giant man steeped forth. Cropped grey hair, military slacks and ann easy smile adorned his face.

He dwarfed over Jaune easily, looking him in the eye.

"You look like a faggot." Jaune balked. "We'll fix that, though. Here, we'll make you a real man," the crew chief continued. Someone in the back sniggered.

"The only things you will come to love are the smell of sweat and oil, and the sound of metal being reborn again."

"And the bros!" added an enthusiastic young man holding a wrench in one hand. He was dressed in cargo pants and a white singlet. An infectious smile greeted him.

"Nothing wrong with turning to your bros for a little loving," he wiggled his eyebrows Jaune's way.

His heart dropped.

"Er, um. I'm good, thanks."

"Jaster, leave the kid alone," chastised an older man, stepping up to welcome Jaune.

"Evening Lieutenant," he inclined to the pudgy man that had led Jaune here. The man grunted.

"I'll be in my office." With that, he walked away, leaving Jaune alone.

As soon as he was out of earshot, everyone began to relax. Jaune did not miss the scowls everyone was firing behind the Lieutenant.

"Fucking butter-bar. Leaving us with a fuckin' greenie," scowled another mechanic.

The crew chief, who quickly introduced himself as Trent, waved his comrades behavior off.

"Ignore them. They're just tired and cold is all. Winters are long up here, and all the cold does is make everything freeze up. Say son, what's your name?"

"Uh, Jaune sir."

Trent laughed, slapping Jaune's back. The motion nearly sent him flying.

"No need to be so formal with me. Only the Lieutenant." He suddenly leaned in conspiratorially, eyeing the doorway which the man in question had left.

"It's best you don't get on his bad side," he whispered, shooting Jaune a knowing look.

"It's best you don't get on any of our bad sides green-horn," came the same disgruntled soldier from earlier. Jaune quickly learnt his name was Eric.

"This place has enough problems going on without another fuck up added to it."

Jaune twitched at that.

"Is there a problem you have with me?" he asked not too unkindly.

Jaster grinned, clapping his hands together.

"Ooh. The Sergeant's pissed! FREE SHOW BOYS!"

Trent looked at Jaune in surprise.

"You're a Sergeant? How'd you manage that?"

Jaune faltered. He winced slightly at the question.

"I… I'd rather not talk about that." Memories of the final assessment came back. The less people knew what happened, the better.

It's already bad enough I have false transcripts. If anyone actually figures out I shot the Instructor….

That wasn't going to happen. As long as he didn't say anything to incriminate himself, he would be fine. And as long as Cardin did not say anything….

Trent shrugged.

"Ah, doesn't really matter. It's time we put you to work. You ever done welding before?"

Jaune looked up at the huge man uncertainly.

"Um, no…?"

"Well, you're about to learn. Joseph's sick today, and we're a bit behind on work."

Qrow tapped his foot impatiently as he rode the elevator to the top floor. It seemed like an eternity before the ever-so-satisfying 'ding' could be heard.

Slowly, the double doors peeled back, revealing a large office with giant metal cogs everywhere framing a large window.

In front of the window sat a single desk, with a chair that was designed to be a cog split in two joining the back rest.

It always looked like a penis though. Qrow could never unsee that when Glynda commented on the crude design.

Seated in the penis-shaped chair was one of the highest-ranking authorities in all of Vale.

Headmaster Ozpin.

"You wanted to see me Oz?" Qrow sighed, trudging across the polished floor, hands in his pockets.

The chair spun around, revealing the man seated within it clearly.

"It's General. Don't you know?" The reply was humorous. That much Qrow could tell.

Right. I wasn't the only one who got a war-time promotion.

Ozpin, being the Headmaster of Beacon, was afforded the role of General, placing him in the top five most senior officers in the armed forces. A position he didn't really want. Nor the VSDF wanted.

Unfortunately, that was the way things were now, and despite making their discontent well known, there was no denying the strategic value of huntsmen in the war effort.

Qrow crashed down into an open seat adjacent Ozpin.

"I do know, and I don't really care. I just spent a couple weeks with the stiff pricks, and that shit gets old real fast. Now, what was this all about?"

The Headmaster leaned forward, planting his hands firmly on the desk.

Several folders filled with confidential documents made Qrow lower his gaze to the table.

"The deployments on the Western Mistral Front are a nightmare right now. One of the brigades stationed there has been incurring heavy losses lately. Especially since they've been forced to merge with other broken regiments, including Huntsmen."

Qrow clenched his fists. His nieces were undergraduates right now, but he knew full well they had been sucked into the war. Just like every other huntsman had.

He looked Qrow in the eye, pushing a file towards him. He looked at it tentatively. At Ozpins nod, he picked it up and began to read. His brows furrowed the more he read.

"As you can see, these are Huntsmen undergraduates, and their potential is unparalleled. If they can be taught discipline."

Qrow set the document down carefully.

"Alright, I'll bite. What's your solution? As much as I want to help these kids out, there's not much we can do from here. Even I know that."

He leaned back. "What have you decided on, and how does this relate to me?"

Ozpin opened up another paper folder, revealing several documents and a photograph inside.

Qrow craned his neck to get a better look, but Ozpin rotated the whole folder before sliding it over. His eyes began to widen.

"Oz, you can't be serious." He shook his head in disbelief.

"I am."

"No offence to him, but the guy is clearly out of place as far as I can tell. When I looked at his test scores at the start of his course he failed the test so hard he got 1%. The guy is stupid, plain and simple."

Ozpin shook his head slowly.

"No Qrow. He has much more potential than you realise."

Qrow raised a doubtful eyebrow.

"Jaune Arc knows far more than he has let on. You yourself stated in your report that he is aware of Salem. He was aware of Amber, and yet he did nothing to harm her. Instead, he went out of his way to help her. This is telling of his character."

At his encouragement, Qrow opened the document and began to flick through, and his eyes began to widen in shock.

"Oz. This is…"

The Headmaster nodded.

"100% perfect test score. All 100 multiple choice questions, and all 33 written answers."

"No-one's ever gotten this before!" He couldn't help but narrow his eyes in suspicion. "How'd he do it?

How'd he cheat on this?"

"He didn't cheat. That's the thing."

Qrow couldn't believe this.

"Impossible. The kid's stupid. He failed the entry exam."

"Don't be ridiculous," Ozpin scoffed.

"No-one could be that stupid to get 1% on the exam. And only now to flip it on its head and score a perfect 100%? No, this is something deeper. Something more."

"Like what?"

Ozpin pushed anther document forward.

"The incident where Major Bigby Ballsin tragically lost his life. Arc took charge and secured his teammates safety, despite his preliminary poor scores."

Qrow pursed his lips, but Ozpin wasn't finished.

"During the team exercises, he showed exceptional leadership qualities and problem solving ingenuity. Combined with these results, and I doubt Arc has been entirely forthcoming of his true capabilities."

Qrow regarded Ozpin's words, but he still wasn't done.

"What's more is I decided to do some digging."

Qrow was perplexed. "What did you find?"

"He applied earlier for Beacon Academy."

"He wanted to be Huntsman?"

Ozpin nodded. "Initially I thought his transcripts were falsified. I mean, clearly the feats listed for his age were abnormal. His lack of references was also concerning, so I immediately rejected him."

"So he joined the Army," nodded Qrow, cupping his chin in contemplation.

"He was apparently a Cadet Sergeant NCO at the New Mount Glenn Preparatory Academy Reservists School, and he chose not to mention this in his initial application."

Qrow's eyes widened. "Wait, really? Why not mention that?"

"I fear he felt his background training and skills would have been too unbelievable to most, so he chose a more humble approach."

"And yet it was still too much," surmised Qrow.

"Indeed. With no choice, he joined the Army and deliberately tried to lower his test scores to appear more average than he really was."

"You mean he flunked the first test deliberately?!"

"Qrow, no-one could be that stupid to honestly get 1% on that test. It's far too simple. And yet, he chose to. But apparently, he did not do a good enough job."

"What do you mean?"

"Look at his answers, especially the written ones."

A quick glance had Qrow frowning.

"They look like the answers of a coward and someone with no experience," deadpanned Qrow, but Ozpin shook his head.

"At first I thought so too, but the consistency of his logic across all answers is what's telling. Look here?"

He leaned over and pointed to one of the questions, paraphrasing.

"Propose a strategy to capture a fortified enemy stronghold WITHOUT endangering civilians. I would not push the position. Instead I would hold the perimeter until help arrives and stop them from fleeing."

Qrow sniffed. "I dunno. Seems like the kid wants to avoid fighting?"

Ozpin shook his head. "Ah, but the meaning is deeper! By holding a secure perimeter, he is suggesting to wgae a war of attrition on the defenders, starving them out. By implying allies, he clearly means close air support to bomb the place once the civilians leave."

Qrow looked at the Headmaster strangely.

"Oz, I don't think that's how war works…?"

"Oh come now. You're just biased against him."

Qrow grit his teeth. "The brat kicked me in the balls Ozpin. Me! I'm his superior officer. You'd have to be mentally retarded to even consider such a thing."

"This is not mental retardation, Qrow. This is unparalleled genius." He inhaled giddily.

Qrow shook his head. There was no changing Ozpin's mind. Once it was set on something, he would make sure everyone did whatever it took to achieve it. It was simply better to go along with his scheming.

Changing the topic, he frowned over at Ozpin.

"So… he tried to hide himself."

"Precisely," nodded Ozpin. "And yet, when the moment to act came, and his teammates lives were in danger, he did not hesitate."

"Yikes. This kid… sure is something, isn't he," grimaced Qrow.

"Indeed. Which is why it would be a waste to squander such talent and potential in the rear doing mundane patrols and checkpoint checks."

Ozpin leaned back.

"He sought direct action. That's why he applied to be a Huntsman first and foremost, and when that didn't work, he went straight into the Army. Even knowing the casualty rate, he did not hesitate."

Qrow hesitated.

"What are you planning, Oz?"

"I've already made arrangements to have him transferred. There's a rather troublesome Huntsmen squad we've got holed up in Mistral. They lost their Platoon Sergeant tragically the other week, and have been without proper leadership since. In fact," he sighed, "I daresay they've been without since much longer." He massaged his temples.

Qrow grimaced.

"And does the kid know? Does he agree to this?"

"Of course he would," dismissed Ozpin. "This is clearly what he has been searching for, and I know he will relish in the challenge. He will hopefully succeed where others have not."

He rested his hands on the table. "His level of unorthodox thinking might just in fact work…."

Jaune dropped down into his soft bed in his own private personal quarters with a tired sigh.

This was not what he had envisioned when he signed up for the army. It certainly wasn't what he was expecting in the Logistics Corps.

Nearly two months of long and mundane patrols in freezing weather and sleepless nights. And when he wasn't pulling sentry duty, he was stuck being a handyman for all of the other mechanics. Not because he was good. Hell, he wasn't even certified to do any of the stuff he had been drafted into doing. But rather because the others were lazy bastards. Plain and simple.

He growled into the pillow.

He was a sergeant, and yet everyone here treated him no different than a mere private.

Still, at least he wasn't up at the front dying a horrible death. He would take this place over the front.

And it wasn't all bad. The guys were pretty chill and cool to work with and hangout after work. Even if they worked him like a dog.

He couldn't say the same for the Lieutenant. The man had been stuck here for twenty years and never once saw a promotion upon graduating officer school. That made him pretty surly.

Speaking of, he hadn't even seen the chance to apply. Which was a problem.

But it was a problem for another day.

"I can't believe I'm here," he mumbled in awe.

Despite the hardships here, life was still easy. So despite being dog-tired, he smiled under his covers.

The door to his private quarter slammed open, startling him out of his bed with a frightened jolt.

He scrambled off of his bed, eyes searching in panic for who the intruder was. They revealed themselves not even three seconds later, their rapid footfalls alerting him to their presence.

"Major Branwen?!" he stopped in surprise as the man strode in. He took one quick look around the place before leveling Jaune a look, resting a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Pack your bags, kid. You're getting reassigned."

His mind struggled to process what he had just heard.

"…Sir?" he let out weakly. Did he just hear right?

"You're getting deployed kid. Orders from above."

Before he knew it, the next hour passed by so fast and chaotically it felt like he had been carried off by a hurricane.

He found himself jam-packed like a sardine into a military bullhead with twenty other soldiers. The only thing he had aside from his combat gear was Crocea Mors, and a healthy dose of anxiety as he underwent a nervous breakdown.

His destination? The war.

He was being shipped straight off to the Mistral frontlines….

Chapter Text

Arc 2: Chapter 9

Jaune felt sick as the bullhead shuddered and groaned.

The turbulence was rough, and it wasn't doing his motion sickness any favours. Neither was the fact he was actually headed straight for the front-lines in Mistral.

His mind raced as he still tried to process the shit he'd somehow gotten himself in to.

Why?! Why me! He despaired.

He didn't want to die. He was still a virgin. He hadn't even kissed a girl yet for god's sake! And now he was being sent to a place where the estimated mortality rate was 60%!

THIS WAS FUCKED!

He glanced around the inside of the bullhead, taking note of the unfamiliar faces of soldiers strapped in, just like him.

Some were sleeping, others were reading paperback books. One guy was casually caressing and reloading his gun like it was a fetish. And him? He was starting to consider if maybe going AWOL was really such a bad thing.

"Ten minutes until we arrive at Camp Grimm," came the pilot's voice over the intercom.

A couple heads turned slightly as he continued.

"I'd just like to remind all our lovely passengers here that we'll be flying over a danger zone within the next two minutes, so any and all electronic devices must be turned off and loose items secured in the event of emergency maneouvres. Please stay strapped in to your seatbelts. And remember! Send your lovely pilot and co-pilot a prayer."

The bullhead shifted, and Jaune felt his death-grip on the seatbelt strap tighten even more than it could humanly be possible.

The sound of weapons being secured and loose items being stowed away briefly echoed throughout the hold.

Turning to the soldier seated next to him, Jaune forced a smile.

"So. This your first time?" He asked.

The man slowly turned his gaze towards him, displaying nothing but apathy as he slowly chewed on a piece of gum. No answer as he locked eyes with him.

Jaune faltered.

"It's, ah-It's my first time," he admitted.

The guy continued to chew his gum.

"I-is it true? The uh, 60% mortality rate thing?"

The grunt slowly let the gum and drool slide out of his mouth in one long string, before it disconnected and landed with a wet plop right in front of Jaune's boot.

He shuffled his feet away awkwardly.

"Hey, pretty boy," called a soldier on the opposite wall adjacent to him. Jaune turned.

"You a fuck-boy or something?"

Jaune did a double-take. "A what?"

"Just curious," the soldier, a stocky woman easily twice his size shrugged.

"Just I hear that the faunus like to keep peeps like you alive so they can have their fun with 'em."

Jaune felt his blood drain.

"So they can what?!"

"Yeah," she nodded, and another soldier next to her, equally as large grunted.

"They like to shove bayonet's up POW's ass to try and get 'em to dance like a puppet, and if they do a good enough job, they'll let you stay as a sex-slave or something I hear."

Jaune gulped. That sounded… mildly unpleasant.

The other soldier next to her added with a dark chuckle.

"It's a good we're not pretty then, right, ahaha!"

"Yeah, at least they'll kill us quick. You on the other hand, pretty-boy…?" she continued. A couple of the other soldiers laughed at his expense as he shivered.

Forget the situation being fucked. I'M FUCKED!

The grunt next to him smacked his shoulder firmly a couple times, drawling out.

"Relaaax buddy. That's why we're here. To shoot some animals."

That hardly did anything to ease his nerves.

"You know, that's not funny guys," he replied, frozen into his seat.

The bullhead suddenly swerved, and everyone gripped their seatbelts to hang on as the bullhead began to dive down. The pilot could be heard screaming out on the intercom.

"SHIT! CONTACT. HOLD ON!"

The sound of something whistling outside could be heard growing rapidly louder over the span of two seconds. Jaune eye's widened in confusion, but by the third second, it was all over.

The soldiers seated in front of him vanished in a ball of fire as a massive explosion tore in the bullhead's starboard side, leaving a giant ragged steel hole in the hold.

One second the soldiers were there, the next they were gone.

A piece of still debris sailed through the air and embedded itself through the grunt's head next to him, exploding it before embedding into the wall.

Jaune screamed as blood and brains showered the right side of his face. Flames burnt the front of his face and body, and he screamed. More in surprise than pain.

It was over as quickly as it happened, and suddenly Jaune found himself being forcefully sucked from his seat as the cargo-hold underwent decompression.

Two soldiers screamed as they were sucked out to their death, while Jaune only clung on by virtue of his seatbelt still being secured.

Blood covered his eyes, and he wasn't sure if it was his, or if it was the guy's next to him.

"WE'VE BEEN HIT! WE'RE GOING DOWN! I REPEAT. WE'RE GOING DOWN!"

Jaune's head smacked around, hitting the steel wall behind him. He was glad he had his helmet strapped on otherwise he'd have been suffering from worse injuries.

Looking out the massive hole billowing with smoke, the world spun around rapidly. He could feel it, and his motion sickness came in full force. He couldn't suppress the bile that threatened to escape his stomach. Puke and blood went sailing in a whirlwind as the bullhead spun uncontrollably to the ground.

"BRACE YOURSELF!" screamed the pilot.

Jaune didn't think he could, not that he really heard anyways.

The ground suddenly became visible on the last few rotations, and then Jaune felt the bullhead crash with the most violent force imagineable.

The force of the landing rocketed through his entire body, and he shook like a ragdoll in his seat.

One of the other soldiers had their seatbelt come undone and they were sent flying through the hold.

Their jaw caught on a piece of jutting and torn metal. Jaune could barely comprehend as the man had half of his head ripped off, while the rest of his body soared out of the hole. Only to get shredded by the numerous tonnes of skidding steel.

A supply box of ammo was torn off its strap and was sent flying. Right into another soldier's leg and snapping it back at an unnatural angle.

He howled in pain as the bullhead started to slow down with its uncontrollable crash.

After several tense seconds of skidding, rolling and being thrown around, the bullhead came to a stop. The metal groaned and creaked as sparks could be hard from damaged electronics and exposed cabling. Smoke began to fill the hold and cabin, and the iron tang of blood scented the air.

Jaune groaned as alarms wailed, his head ringing from the whole ordeal.

His vision was covered in blood, and what little he could see underneath it all was blurry as his head spun.

A distant explosion could be heard.

After several seconds of trying to orient himself, he opened his eyes fully.

Everything ached. Bringing a gloved hand up to his face, he wiped the blood off. His eyes went wide as he saw the carnage within.

Half of the soldier's and cargo in the hold were outright missing following the initial detonation and decompression. As for the rest?

He couldn't help but vomit at the sight of their mangled remains.

Few of the bodies were in one piece, and the ones that were weren't moving at all.

After letting his stomach's content empty, he fumbled for the straps securing him.

The bullhead had come to a stop on its belly, so it was relatively safe to get out of his seat without further injuring himself.

"H-hello?" he coughed out as he came free.

"Is anyone alive?" No reply.

He quickly checked the pulses of the other occupants. All dead.

A quick glance into the cockpit revealed the same, with the pilot crushed into the control panels by a massive boulder that had no doubt stopped the bullhead's chaotic tumble.

Fresh blood dripped from an exposed hand down onto the deck.

The co-pilot, a young woman, sat slumped in her seat, the only sign of her death being the obvious sight of her neck snapped back at an unnatural angle and her head just hanging there.

Jaune grimaced. He was the only survivor of the bullhead. And not only that, but a quick check revealed he had escaped any serious injuries.

Oh, his body ached like hell, and his face was burnt from the blast and covered in gashes, but he was alive and moving.

"Shit," he cursed. This was not good. This was not good at all.

Smoke continued to fill the inside. He needed to grab his gear and get out unless he wanted to share their fate.

Grabbing the backpack secured under his seat which had miraculously survived unscathed, he quickly geared up as smoke began to fill up more of the bullhead.

He had to grab another gun from a deceased soldier as his was straight out gone. At least he had Crocea Mors still in his bag. Not that it would really do him a whole lot of good in an active warzone.

Clambering through the exposed hull revealed the bullhead had indeed crashed into the forest below. Even better, he wasn't hanging off some cliff precariously like in the movies. Just stable albeit hilly ground.

The sound of distant explosions could be heard behind. Howitzers and anti-air guns judging by the caliber of the sounds.

The crackle of gunfire was more muted, but ever-present.

As tempting as it was to consider just slipping away, he doubted his odds of being successful. If he got caught, he'd be executed for desertion most likely. And besides. He gripped his service-rifle tightly. This was what he had signed up for. Just... not the front lines.

First thing was first, he needed to know where Camp Grimm was, and then he needed to figure out his position relative to it. From there, he could look at trying to get out of this shitshow.

A quick look around revealed no-one was closing in on his position. Yet. He didn't doubt that enemy soldiers would be sent to investigate the crash and retrieve supplies and information. And no doubt execute any survivors.

Shit. His eyes widened. He couldn't just leave the bullhead lying here. Or what remained of it.

There were too many supplies to just hand over to Menagerie.

Fortunately, being a military craft, there was plenty of explosive ordnance on board to sabotage any retrieval efforts. It didn't take long to set up some basic demolitions and get to a safe distance.

Hiding behind a tree, he detonated the charges set and had to take cover as the bullhead exploded in a massive fireball. So great was the explosion that the flames danced around his tree, singeing his battle fatigues.

Fortunately, it was over as quickly as it started and he remained unharmed, albeit a bit shook up.

Now, if he remembered correctly, Camp Grimm was supposed to be north. After getting his bearing of the time and where the sun was, it wasn't hard to pinpoint where north roughly was.

His face fell and he couldn't suppress the grimace that formed.

"Of course it is," he frowned. North was where all the artillery and gunfire could be heard. And it was probably where Camp Grimm was too.

Adjusting the straps on his backpack and wiping the blood still oozing into his eyes, he did a final double check of his rifle. Thirty rounds inserted with one in the chamber. Safety off, selector set to semi-auto. And 210 rounds of ammo in seven spare magazines on his person. He was equipped for war, but he certainly did not feel ready for it.

It took ages for him to reach the forest edge, but when he did he got to have a clear view of the battlefield ahead. And what a mess it was.

What may have once been a continuation of the very forest he was exiting, or a perhaps a lush field, was now a barren charred mass of dirt. Littered with foxholes, barbed wire and an expansive network of trenches on both sides. In the middle, it was open land.

No-man's land.

And he had to crawl through all of that to get to Camp Grimm.

Artillery guns could be heard pounding overhead on his right, deep in the woods and edges of where the open battlefield began.

Retaliatory gunshots cracked out on both sides, but it was hard to see any actual combatants. They most likely were burrowed deep inside the trenches. The question was which side of the battlefield was his side. Which side held Camp Grimm?

A quick scan revealed several destroyed bunkers to his left, with several multi-story buildings and hangars to his left, nestled deep within a man-made clearing. And to his right nothing but thick forest once you went past the desolate wasteland.

"That's got to be Camp Grimm," he muttered.

A shell detonated a couple hundred metres in front of him, kicking up dirt and debris. He flinched at the cacophony of sounds roaring out in front of him.

With a destination now revealed, all he had to do was reach it. The problem was that in order to reach it, he had to cross the open ground before him.

The very violent, no-man's land before him.

"Why did I have to enlist?" he groaned as he took his first steps down into the battlefield below.

He forced himself to take a deep breathe.

Just stay calm. All you have to do is make it to the trenches on the left, and then follow them to the base. Can't be too difficult right?

His first assessment was a lie. Crossing no-man's land was more perilous than he could have possibly imagined.

The name was fitting too. No-one could survive out here for prolonged periods of time.

Unfortunately, he was committed now that he was in the thick of the battle, and there was no other way out except forward.

He hadn't even seen an enemy soldier, or friendly for that matter either. But that didn't mean they di not exist.

Case in point being when he reached the next foxhole shielded by destroyed barbed-wire and instantly came under assault by a machine-gun team in another foxhole to his right.

He curled into a ball as the rounds soared overhead.

The nearest trench to his left was easily a good hundred metres, and there was no cover along the way. The enemy machine gunner team was probably fifty metres to his right he observed as he mustered the courage to peek over the foxhole. A very quick peek mind you, as he was forced to duck back down as they kept firing.

He only just made out the sight of several objects being thrown his way. His eyes widened in horror as he heard several explosions detonate all around him.

Grenades?!

Whoever it was obviously knew who he was, and they wanted him dead.

I can't stay here… he realized as more explosions detonated around him.

The gunfire came to a halt, leaving only the regular battle to rage on.

He slowly peered back over the top of the foxhole, his heart pounding. The machine gun team didn't immediately open fire.

Now's my chance! He forced himself to stand up, scrambling over the mound of dirt making his barricade.

He just needed to make it to the trenches on his left, and then he would be safe.

The machine gun roared to life, and dirt kicked up around him as rounds impacted perilously close by.

He ran for dear life across the open ground as the machine gunner tracked him with high-calibre rounds.

"FUCK! THIS!" he screamed as he sprinted like a mad-lad, one hand atop his helmet, and the other gripping his rifle.

At the very last second he reached the next run of trenches, and without any care he dove into it. It was easily a two-plus metre plummet, and he certainly didn't bother to check for enemies. More on account of being gunned down by one.

Rounds soared right by his head not even a micro-second later as he collapsed face-first into mud and wooden splinters.

The weight of his plate carrier and backpack full of gear ground him into the trench, but adrenaline was pumping through him with such ferocity that he didn't care.

He bounced upright, instantly surveying the trench for any potential threats as he panted.

An explosion tore up the ground before him above the trench, sending dirt flying.

He flinched, scrambling to push his back against the crumbling trench wall as he sought cover from the vicious onslaught. He tensed up.

Beside him, a young woman with flowing long blonde hair raised an eyebrow as she shared cover with him.

She was dressed in tan cargo pants and jacket. A pair of bulky yellow gauntlets adorned her wrists. Lilac eyes assessed him curiously.

He struggled to breath, his heart threatening to explode from the gauntlet he just ran. It was only pure adrenaline which kept him in the fight right now.

"You doin' alright soldier?" she asked in concern.

He nodded rapidly, inhaling sweet beautiful air.

"Yeah," he gulped. "I'm doing absolutely fantastic," he bit out. How else did he look?!

She nodded. "Oh, that's good then. It looked like you were about to drop dead for a second there."

"I think I am."

"Psssh. Don't be so dramatic soldier," she slapped his shoulder. Hard. Her strength nearly sent him tumbling were it not for the sheer weight of his gear.

"Yang Xiao Long!" a high-pitched voice called. The aforementioned woman winced. "Ah, here she comes."

Here who comes? He clenched his rifle tightly.

"Look, it's nice meeting you and all, but I'm going to be pushing on ahead. Can you do me a solid give me some covering fire until I reach the other trench?"

Jaune stared at her with wide eyes. She wanted to reach the enemy trench? Was she nuts?! Could she not hear the battle raging on? The explosions tearing apart the trenches, and the gunshots of weary faunus soldiers nestled deep inside their own trenchlines. The rumbling of mobile artillery pieces tearing apart the mud with their tracks, and the deafening pounding of guns as big around as he.

And she wanted to charge headfirst into that?!

"Are you crazy!?" he screamed. He had to over the sound of the battle roaring.

She grinned. "Hell yeah! You in?"

"No!"

Fortunately , before she could literally drag him with her, another woman appeared. The owner of the shrill voice.

"There you are. You can't keep running off to do your own thing!"

The woman was short. Pale features held in contempt glowered up at Yang. Long white hair billowed underneath a blue peak cap. A white uniform different to his own, even the ceremonial ones he'd worn, greeted him. It was accentuated by blue trim and pants, with black boots.

"Aw, Weiss-cream. You caught up!"

The woman scowled as she marched up to them. In her hand she held an elegant white rapier with several dust mechanisms.

This was not a standard issued weapon, nor was her uniform belonging to Vale.

Considering the two women weren't shooting each other, nor him, it was safe to assume they were at least on his side.

"I've told you. Quit calling me that stupid name! It's Weiss!" she stamped her foot furiously.

"Um, who are you?" he asked, only to cover his ears as a shell detonated literally behind him on the no-mans land. Dirt and debris showered over him as he covered his ringing ears.

The snow-haired woman turned to regard him with an unimpressed stare.

"Who's this," she asked Yang.

"Oh, him? This is…" she trailed off, her smile faltering. "Actually, I never got your name?"

Weiss shook her head.

"Forget about him. He's just a regular infantry grunt. Where's your air-headed sister gone?"

Yang's nervous smile faltered, her eye twitching.

"Don't call her that."

"Well she is. Just like you she's run off to do her own thing."

"Hey! Ruby's providing us sniper cover. You ever wonder how you managed to get here in the first place? It's because she's a guardian angel watching over you." Her smile was back.

Weiss rolled her eyes.

"Hardly. I'm here because no-one in this stupid region can hold a gun properly. Hence why they miss all their shots."

Jaune looked at the bloody entrails of some poor deceased soldier long eviscerated, his blood pooling under their feet.

If that's a poor shot, then what counts as a good one?

She shook her head before Yang could retort with something no-doubt stupid. "Look, it doesn't matter. We need to get out of here. We're sitting grimm for those faunus to bombard us."

Yang puffed her chest out proudly, an excited grin forming. Jaune couldn't help but notice the way her assets strained underneath.

"Well, perfect timing then. My little friend here was just about to provide me some covering fire while I push their trenches."

Weiss' eyes widened.

"No! You absolute idiot. We can't just rush their lines! We need to stop, regroup and organize a proper counterattack. Not this- this- madness?!"

Jaune seconded her plan. He already crossed through hell just to get here. He didn't want to go back into it.

Yang leapt up, already beginning to clamber over the trench walls to enter the fray.

"It's already been decided. Cover me soldier boy!" she winked his way.

"Yang! Grrr. You absolute beringel," she hissed furiously, only just restraining herself from pulling her hair out.

She suddenly wheeled on him.

"You!"

"Huh?"

"Make yourself useful and starting shooting back. Cover her!"

He gaped at her. A bullet pinged off the wood just scant inches above his head. The round deflected at an angle and buried itself into the trench.

"Um, sure? But I'd also rather not get shot right now!"

Weiss leapt up.

"Well, that's your problem to deal with. Now do something actually useful. Or die. I could honestly care less," she growled. "YANG!" She began to give chase to her battle-hungry companion.

He was left all alone in the trench now. He clutched his weapon tenderly.

Hoooo shiiit.

The battle raged on.

Those two were obviously Huntresses. They should be fine he reasoned.

Him on the other hand? He was not fine.

He was the complete opposite of fine right now.

Now's not the time Jaune. Give them some covering fire first, he breathed.

Slowly, he moved to peer over the trench and out into the battlefield.

The two women were nowhere to be seen.

He ducked back down as another round skipped over his head with a whistling crack.

"BITCH!" He kneejerked in surprise.

Screw that. He was going to follow the trench and get over to Camp Grimm. There was just no way he as one person was going to make a difference in this battle right now.

He needed to reach Camp Grimm.

Gripping his rifle that he still hadn't even fired yet, he began to follow the trench north towards where he hoped was Camp Grimm.

He followed the winding path for several minutes, encountering the occasional destroyed trench wall and debris blocking his path. Most were easy to safely navigate around.

The trench was barren otherwise. No-one was seen. Neither friend nor foe.

It made for a rather nerve-wracking and tense journey as he travelled down the trench. He kept his gun aimed forward as he scanned each upcoming bend and corner.

There was little cover inside the trench itself. Meaning if he encountered an enemy soldier, the only way to survive was to be the quicker on the trigger essentially.

No-one greeted him as he continued down the mud path.

It was very tight at times, and the sound of gunfire and explosions above were not doing anything for his already fried nerves.

Eventually, the trench came to an end, debris piling up into an ominous mound before him. The trench walls had obviously collapsed earlier in the battle, or perhaps even war itself. That meant the only way forward to Camp Grimm was to climb the mound and hope the trench continued on the other side.

He grit his teeth, face sent into a grimace as he slowly began to climb up the mound on his belly.

Fortunately, no rounds whistled by him this time, meaning he was safe. For this split second in time anyways.

He picked up the pace as he crawled over before pushing himself into a low crouch.

The trench did continue on the other side of the mound, but a couple metres to his left was a another trench that ran directly in front of, and met, a concrete bunker. A pill-box. The open gunnery deck on the next floor up was devoid of combatants, but deep in the trench at the base of it he could make out several voices.

Allies? He could only hope.

He quickly hurried over, crouching low to avoid presenting a larger target. A few rounds did soar by, but at this point he was too far away to discern as an actual target. Rather, the enemy was only aiming in his general direction. At this point it was even safe to assume that the odds of being struck by an enemy round were low. He wasn't about to put his life in the hands of luck, however.

He approached the adjacent trench, and a small embankment sloped down into it. A product of the foxhole he was skirting through. By now he was at the trench embankment, and he could actually see into the trench itself. He began to descend down the embankment nervously. The soft soil turned mud was not easy to navigate down.

The voices were frantic, but hushed. Almost nervous. Peering around the sloped corner revealed their owners.

They were faunus!

He realized too late as his foot slipped on the mud. The weight of his gear drove him to the ground, and he slid down the embankment. Panic reared its ugly head, but he was already crashing into the middle of trench.

Water and mud sprayed into the air as he came to a stop on his rear.

The group of faunus, about five of them, all spun to face the sudden noise with varying degrees of shock and surprise.

They looked tired and scared. Most were no older than he was, and about half his size to boot. Most likely conscripts.

He didn't pay heed to that, however. Rather, the weapons suddenly being raised and panicked cries worked to sufficiently distract him.

It quickly devolved into a screaming match as human and faunus locked eyes with each other.

As he lay there on his back, exposed, the faunus began to scream at him and each other.

"Fuck!"

"Shoot him!"

"Hands where I can see them!"

"Human scum!"

But amidst all of that, there was some hesitancy in their eyes. They could have just as easily pulled their triggers by now. For whatever reason they didn't. Perhaps they were still reluctant to take a life. Perhaps they felt pity on him considering his vulnerable state. Or perhaps they were about to do just that, but were psyching themselves up.

However, in the heat of the moment, all Jaune could see was a group of angry faunus soldiers bringing their guns to bear on him.

If he could surrender, he probably would have. He didn't want to die. But he also didn't want to trade one hell for another at the hands of these monsters!

Scared, he threw his gun up to aim at them, the fire selector now flicked on auto.

"Stay back!" he screamed back.

"I don't want to shoot!"

Alas, with both sides screaming at each other, coupled with the roar of the battle raging around them, and it was impossible to discern what anyone was saying.

Therefore, it was only inevitable something would give. Something, or someone.

No-one knew who fired the first shot, only that someone did.

Live rounds ripped all around him as time seemed to slow down.

He forced himself to roll over to the nearest cover. All the while he squeezed the trigger and refused to let go.

The faunus screamed as they all opened fire. They scrambled for cover like mice being found by a farmer in the barn. But in the tight confines of the corridor-like trench there really wasn't anywhere to go. Not unless you were content to press yourself up against wooden slat walls of the trench, or pitted concrete ones of the pillbox.

Jaune never realized how lucky he truly was when a round impacted right where his head had been barely a split second ago.

The shooter did not have such luck as Jaune's own rounds ripped right through his jaw, sending blood and bone flying.

The man screamed, dropping his gun before toppling over and clutching his mangled face in agony.

"Shoot him! Shoot him!" another cried out in panic, emptying his magazine entirely.

Jaune scrambled for cover; a lone barrel and several discarded sandbags. A few broken planks lay atop them. It wasn't much, but it was better than being trapped in the open.

His gun ran dry as he emptied his own magazine in the exchange of gunfire.

As he laid there, his helm barely showing over the top of his low-lying cover, he fumbled for a fresh magazine. At least this time he had plenty of ammunition.

He slammed the mag release, dropping the empty one.

Why do we have to be issued a FUCKING bullpup?!

He now truly appreciated why everyone who had ever fired a gun griped about the standard-issue VSDF service weapon.

In his tight uncomfortable position with so many enemies close by, it was bloody nerve-racking and intense trying to reload. He had to lift the gun off himself and change his grip just to get a fresh mag to fit essentially under his arm-pit.

It also took way too long. If an enemy soldier rushed him right now as he lay there pinned, he was dead.

Thankfully, the faunus were just as panicked about him as he was them. They were more than content to just throw rounds at his position, rather than approach him.

He tried what must have felt like ten separate times to awkwardly insert the magazine into his gun before he was finally greeted with the oh-so-satisfying sound of it clicking into place.

He smacked it for good measure. Rounds whizzed by close. Too close.

His nerves were fried right now. But even in his terrified state, he knew that he had to act. He had to respond. He had to shoot back.

He had to kill.

He sucked in a shaky breath. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to kill!

But I have to!

Words weren't going to solve this. Only violence. So with a deep breath, he waited for the shooting to lull as the enemy started changing magazines. Meanwhile, the gurgling wails of the faunus he shot echoed throughout the trench.

Pushing himself up to a kneeling position whilst simultaneously rolling over, he peered over the barrel.

He aimed down his ironsights, zeroing in on the first faunus his gun leveled with.

And then he pulled the trigger.

A resounding click greeted him.

WHAT?!

He panicked, reflexively taking his eyes off the enemy to look at his gun.

The charging handle had not been pulled back to chamber a round.

Shit.

He pulled it back, a reassuring click greeting him. He wasted no time in returning fire.

A burst of gunfire tore from his rifle and made impact.

Five rounds. Only one hit the faunus warrior square in the chest. The rest impacted harmlessly with the trench walls behind him. It didn't matter. One round was enough for what essentially amounted to conscripts dressed in clothes.

The faunus before him didn't wear any plate carriers or ballistic armour. His ammo tore through them like a hot knife through butter.

He turned to sight on the next faunus. By now, however, the gunfire returned, and he was forced to duck back down.

"Argh! FUCK OFF!" he screamed. His mother would have his hide if she heard him nowadays, but who cared. He was courting lady death, and that bitch was eager to collect right now!

An explosion went off right by his left ear, knocking him aside as it threw dirt and debris into the air.

The cloud of dust and smoke obscured his vision, but it also hid him from the faunus.

Now was his chance to escape. Or at least it would have been had he not been so concussed.

His vision swam, and his ears were deafened. Only a tinny throbbing sound could be heard as he struggled to reorient himself.

He couldn't. He clutched his hand with one hand, gripping his service rifle with the other.

As he lay there for what felt like hours, his chance to escape undetected slowly withered away. The smoke and dust began to settle, and he still had no idea which way was left, right, up or down. He didn't even know if he was alive or dead!

Fortunately, the faunus that had been shooting him from a mere five metres away fared no better. They were just as concussed. Some perhaps even more if the extra set of sensitive ears was any indicator.

In a strange way, the trench had entered peace. No-one was shooting at each other because everyone was too dazed.

Alas, it was only a matter of time before the confusion wore off. And when it did, the shooting resumed when the faunus saw Jaune still moving.

His luck was really shining today, however, as he didn't even have to bother aiming his gun properly. He fired off a short burst in their direction, and they instantly pressed themselves to the ground or against the walls.

Laying there, he shouldered his rifle as he took proper aim. His vision still swam, but it was getting better.

He sighted another faunus and pulled the trigger.

His shoulder bumped something, and he instantly felt his gun become lighter as something slid down his chest.

The gun fired a single round before clicking empty.

He hit the mag release by mistake!

This fucking piece of shit gun!

He screamed in anger. He now hated his service-rifle as it betrayed him.

He had bigger problems now, however. He didn't have time to reload as the three other faunus took aim at him.

Death was now ready to collect her toll. And it would be a very bloody fee….

Is this how I'm going to die…? He pondered.

Lady luck was on his side once again however as a man, small of stature yet heavy of girth, suddenly leapt down behind the faunus.

He wielded what looked to be a canon with an axe-head for a stock.

The axe-head stock turned out to be legitimate as the man swung his weapon like one.

The faunus in front of him didn't even get the chance to see his killer as the blade bisected the man. His top half flew off to the side. Blood and connected entrails followed.

Instantly, his two allies turned their heads in confusion. Only for one on Jaune's right to watch as the axe swung over head to cleave his face in two, right down the middle. He went rigid as his life was snuffed out.

The other faunus, much further to Jaune's left, panicked and brought his rifle to bear on the new combatant.

With skill and practiced ease, the newcomer tore the axe out of his opponents head, sending blood and brain matter flying. The corpse slumped to the ground, spilling its grisly contents onto the mud.

With a quick flourish, the man repositioned his axe to hold as if it were a gun. And then proceeded to pull a trigger as a loud bang exploded out of the haft. And right into the surprised faunus.

Jaune watched in shock as the faunus' head shattered into red mist, his body cartwheeling over into the trench wall behind. Blood and gore splashed against that very trench wall behind him, and even that had a sizeable hole punched into it from the round the man had just fired.

Jaune gaped as the man let off a satisfied grunt before fixing his attention to Jaune.

He began to approach Jaune with a confident swagger, reloading his now obvious blunderbuss.

The first faunus Jaune had shot, the one now missing his jaw, lifted his weapon up weakly as the man passed him.

He lay on his back, blood pooling from under his head.

The portly human showed no fear as he strode by, and right when Jaune thought he was about to be shot by the remaining faunus, the man halted and STOMPED his foot down on to the faunus' head.

Even over the roar of the battle, Jaune swore he could hear the man's skull shatter as the boot went right through. Blood shot up the man's leg, and the faunus went limp.

Jaune could only stare up dumbly at his saviour while realizing how fortunate he was.

The portly man, boasting a moustache of epic proportions and eyebrows so thick they could easily serve as ballistic protection, or failing that eye protection, approached.

He rested the giant blunderbuss over his shoulder, taking several large steps over to him.

"Well lad, I don't reckon I've seen you before? What division are you with?"

Jaune blinked, before accepting the hand outstretch to him.

"I… I'm not. I only just got deployed here. My bullhead was shot down en route," he explained.

"Ah, so you must be the reinforcements! Yes yes, it all makes sense now," he stroked his moustache carefully.

"And what was your name lad?"

"Ah, Jaune Arc, sir. Sergeant Jaune Arc." He felt it was probably a good idea to give the man the title until he knew more.

"Ah! You're the replacement Sergeant that Ozpin said he was sending! Splendid! Good on you for showing up lad. We could always use more men."

Jaune nodded slowly, barely hearing what the man was saying over the constant din of explosions.

"Ah, allow me to introduce myself. Major Peter Port."

An explosion detonated directly behind the man, casting a giant fireball up into the sky. The man didn't even flinch as Jaune cowered and ducked down for cover.

"Welcome to the front lines!"

Chapter Text

Arc 2: Chapter 10

The sound of enemy artillery died down as shells were expended. Faunus soldiers retreated back into the woods, while VSDF soldiers held the line victoriously. The battle quickly came to a close as Major Port helped escort him via the network of trenches to their FOB.

Camp Grimm.

An interesting name for the VSDF's foot into Mistral, but an essential base none-the-less.

Camp Grimm allowed direct access for troops and supplies to shipped directly from Vale, otherwise they would have to take the long way down to the south of the continent. A journey that would only require more fuel, time and resources just to trek across foreign land.

Unfortunately, that made Camp Grimm highly contested. Weekly infantry assaults were common, as were near daily artillery barrages.

"Fret not lad! Most of them can't aim for jack-diddly-squat, and they know it too. It's more to keep us scared and on edge. Hah! Why most of the shells usually detonate in no-man's land. They simply just don't have the range!" The Major boasted merrily as they passed through the sandbag walls to a concrete covered base.

It was an old airfield from the First War they had fallen derelict, only to be repurposed for the Second War. As such, much of the base was configured for military benefit.

Dragon's teeth blockaded the two major roads leading in. Barbed wire often accompanied it, though the constant attacks had certainly taken their toll.

Most of the defensive placements further than a click or two from the base were obliterated, and with the near frequent attacks, it was near impossible to send crews out to repair them.

As for the base itself, a mixture of reinforced concrete walls and sandbag boxes created a strict maze of defensive fortifications and cover around the base perimeter. Inside the base, however, was quite spacious, with the runways holding makeshift supply tents, command trailers, and hangars filled to the brim with crates of munitions and vehicles.

The radio control tower had, unfortunately, been blown apart from an attack prior to his arrival, and as such was fenced off with warning tape. The other buildings fared a bit better, though the pockmarks of scorch marks and chipped concrete told a story of their own.

A few artillery gun emplacements surrounded by sandbags pointed out towards the trenches which they had just come from. Some of the guns looked damaged, however.

Scratch that, they all look damaged, he realized upon closer inspection.

Debris surrounded them, and the barrels, legs and breeches alike all showed signs of warping and damage.

Yikes. I hope we have more artillery than that?

All in all, it was certainly a military compound, but there seemed to be one confusing detail that was drawing his attention.

"Um, Major? Sir?"

"Hmm? Yes lad, what is it?"

"Where are all the soldiers?"

There was not a soul to be seen anywhere. Not even manning the guns. The piles of spent shell casings spoke of recent use, but there was no-one nearby.

The Major pinched his moustache contemplatively.

"Hmm. Good point. I reckon they're out in the trenches still."

Jaune's brows went up in alarm. "The attack was that bad that you needed everyone out in the trenches?! But what about our own artillery? Who was manning it?"

Surely they had been returning fire right?

Major Port came to a halt, and Jaune swore he could make out a confused expression on the man's face. Even if it was by virtue of the strange shape his eyebrows took.

"Artillery? My dear boy, we don't have any artillery, let alone anyone to man it. Those were purely the enemy guns you heard!"

To emphasise his point, the massive barrel on one of the encamped howitzers groaned before snapping entirely off its frame. It crashed to the ground with a deafening clang. The Major hardly seemed bothered by that.

Jaune felt his stomach flip as unease settled in.

"O-oh. Well, how did we repel this attack then?"

The Major stared at him directly. And then shrugged.

"No clue."

Jaune nearly had a stroke.

"How can you be so relaxed about this?!"

"Eh, it's not the first time this has happened. Fortunately, we've got a lot of Huntsmen and Huntresses here compared to the regular infantry, so it evens out the battlefield."

Okay. That actually made sense. And also offered him some relief.

Huntsmen and Huntresses were way overpowered as it was, and considering how integral this base was to the VSDF's operations, it made sense that they would want to invest in some substantial protection. Because no kill quite screamed like overkill?

"That's… kinda good actually," he breathed out in relief.

"So, how many troops do we have then?"

The Major laughed.

"My boy, I can see why Ozpin is interested in you, but now is not the time to worry about that. The battle is over. First we need a status report before anything."

Jaune's head tilted.

The Major certainly was… eccentric to say the least. His mannerisms were confident and dare-say boisterous. The man seemed at home here on the battlefield. Whether or not he was psychopathic remained to be seen…

Though the way he killed those faunus… Casualties of war at the end of the day. At least that was what he kept trying to tell himself. And it wasn't like he was in a position to complain considering he had been trying to kill them himself. His ruminations were cut off by the sound of somebody calling out to him, or rather the Major.

"We surrender! We surrender!"

Jaune spun to see where the voice was coming from.

Strolling out of the building directly in front of him was a ginger-haired man dressed in battle-fatigues, and waving a white cloth on a stick.

Jaune was ready to raise his weapon, but the Major's reaction caused him to hold. The man seemed more amused than anything.

The ginger approached them, waving his flag.

"We wholeheartedly surrender to you. Now just get these stupid collars off of us- oh fuck, you're still alive…"

The ginger-haired man's face fell into a disappointed scowl upon seeing the Major standing before him. Jaune couldn't help but do a double-take at the man's words. And to a Major no less?!

"Ah, Corporal Torchwick! I see you made it. Splendid! Did you get old Betsy up and running?"

Torchwick scowled.

"No. That half-track's a piece of shit and you know it."

Whatever the Major was about to respond with was cut off by the sound of boisterous chatter as several feminine figures emerged from the sandbag barriers they had just come from.

Jaune felt his eyes slightly peel open in surprise as he recognized some of the women approaching them.

The first was the blonde-haired Huntress, Yang. The second was the white-haired one, Weiss. Both were covered in dirt and grime, looking as if they had trekked through hell and back.

The third was someone he did not recognize. A young woman dressed in a red and white shirt with black corset and red cape.

Combat boots travelled up to her knees, while some strange red box hung strapped to the small of her back, protruding over her hips.

What was most notable however was her red-tipped black hair framing a face that seemed rather young to be in a war.

"Oh lookie, Torchwick's still alive somehow. How unlucky can we be," snorted Yang upon noticing them.

The black haired girl frowned.

"Yang, that's not funny."

"Oh relax Ruby. It isn't like I was wishing him to be shot up, burned alive, horribly maimed and then die a sad lonely death to rival his equally sad and pathetic life."

Torchwick fired a scathing look Yang's way.

"Aaand just like that, my mood has been infinitely worsened. Here I was hoping you suicidal Huntresses would have actually gone and gotten yourselves killed this time."

"Pfft, you wish," Yang snorted.

Roman nodded depressed. "I did. Now I have to live with my destroyed hopes and dreams."

"The feeling's mutual Torchwick," snarked Weiss.

The ginger man let his arms hang by his side before pocketing the make-shift flag.

Weiss noticed.

"And what's that? Are you trying to get out of service yet again?"

He shrugged.

"Hey. You don't want me here. I don't want me here. Hells, the enemy doesn't want me here! I'd say it's a win-win for everyone if I can leave."

Yang's eyes flashed as she shot him a dangerous smile.

"That can be arranged if you want." For flicked her fingers violently against her neck while making a popping sound with her lips.

The man shut up promptly, his expression clearly uncomfortable as he tugged at the strange metallic collar clamped around his neck. A red light on the side of the latch blinked ominously. He rubbed the collar around his neck. Jaune watched with curiosity.

"I was thinking more of the 'let us walk freely' discharge? Not the 'blow my head off' type," Torchwick muttered thinly.

"Yang, that's not nice," Ruby shot the blonde a disapproving frown.

Yang flushed suddenly. "Aw, I'm just kidding Rubes," she smiled fondly, wrapping the smaller girl in a warm hug. Her eyes peeked over 'Rubes' red and black hair menacingly, leveling Roman with a murderous look.

I'm fucking not, she mouthed his way, and the man couldn't help but sweat. Neither could Jaune as he watched the display intently.

"So, who are you supposed to be?" demanded Weiss suddenly, fixing him with an unimpressed look.

Yang let go of Ruby, finally acknowledging Jaune properly.

"Oh hey, you're the soldier-boy from earlier? Glad to see you made it back alive! And in one piece!"

Jaune appreciated her words. "Thanks," he inclined his head.

Ynag sauntered over to him, not at all hiding the way she was checking him out from head to toe.

"So, you got a name?"

"Ah right. Sergeant Jaune Arc," he offered, standing a little taller. Weiss felt her eyebrow raise, unimpressed. Yang pursed her lips and began to nod along as if saying 'okay, nice.'

"You have got to be joking me. You somehow made sergeant?"

"Weiss! That's not nice. He technically outranks you," chastised Ruby with a frantic whisper.

"What, so are you part of the reinforcements we were supposed to receive?" Yang suddenly interjected.

Port was the one to answer, having stood by to listen.

"Ah, yes. Jaune Arc here is your replacement sergeant!" Major Port boomed jovially. Weiss' face dropped into revolt, while Yang whistled wolfishly. Ruby offered him a thin smile. Torchwick just cackled as if he were privy to an inside joke.

Jaune's smile faltered.

"You're joking. You have to be. Sir, I put in a formal request for the leadership position of this squad," Weiss began, only for Port to shut her down.

"Denied. You are technically a member of a foreign military. Even though we are allied, the VSDF cannot grant jurisdiction to another army over its own forces."

Torchwick's laughter grew as Port shut her down.

Weiss' eye twitched,

"Respectfully sir, this is ridiculous and you know it."

"Hmm, can't say that I do. My orders are from above. Sergeant Jaune Arc was personally requested by General Ozpin to be your replacement NCO. Now," Port wheeled around to Jaune.

"I believe you were shipped over with another platoon as reinforcements."

That piqued everyone else's attention as they looked at him expectantly.

He felt increasingly uncomfortable at the scrutiny.

"Ah, sorta? My bullhead was shot down, though. I'm sorry to say, but… I was the only survivor on board."

Yang winced at his answer, while Ruby clamped a hand across her mouth in horror. Weiss' expression softened a little. Just a little.

"Ah, damn. I'm sorry for your loss." Yang offered.

Don't be. I hardly knew those guys. He wanted to say, but wisely refrained.

"It's okay. I'm alive, so there's that?"

Roman smacked his knees as he bit out a short bark of laughter. "Ha! Doubt it. Twenty Lien says by the end of the month you'll be dead."

Jaune looked taken aback. No-one tried to stand up and deny it, however. Instead, everyone looked uncomfortable. Well, Ruby and Yang did. Weiss was still scowling his way while Torchwick was grinning from ear to ear.

"Welp! I'll leave him in your hands. Help show him around and get him settled in." With that, the portly Major strolled away, all the while humming some merry tune.

"No. No way." Weiss looked like she was about to have a mental breakdown as she shook her head desperately.

"I refuse to believe you are our Sergeant."

Yang sighed, her smile brittle.

"Weiss, just lay off it alright?"

"No! I'm already a Sergeant. I should be the one in charge of this squad. Not some outsider who isn't even a Huntsman!"

"Weiss, you're from Atlas. Your rank over there doesn't count here as you've been merged with the VSDF temporarily. You're a private at best in this Army's eyes," explained Yang for what Jaune assumed sounded like the umpteenth time. "Maybe a mercenary?" Yang changed upon hearing Weiss grind her teeth.

Weiss continued to seethe. Ruby tried to calm her down, placing her hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

"It's okay Weiss. Think of it like an elo reset? You've been reset to the lowest rank, but if you grind hard enough, you'll rank back up!"

"Hell yeah, sis!" grinned Yang, offering her sister a high-five. One which she reciprocated.

The resounding smack made Weiss' eye twitch.

"This isn't some stupid video-game you dunce," she grit out.

Yang flicked her wrists, the sound of her gauntlets cocking and chambering a new round echoing out.

"Sure feels like it at times," she cheekily offered.

Torchwick's lips thinned as he looked upon the huntresses with disdain.

"Ah yes. Because of course the psychopathic teenage Huntress with no morality checks would view war as a power-fantasy," he commented idly. "Remind me again, whose blood will you be washing off again tonight?"

Yang stiffened, and Ruby's laughter died down.

"Oh right, you won't know. Because it's just a bunch of nameless NPCs you blasted away today. Am I right?" He continued stiffly.

"W-we're not…" began Ruby weakly. Yang instantly stepped up into the ginger's face, shooting him a filthy look.

"Roman, just shut up will you? Besides, it's not like you have any right to give lectures on morality. Otherwise you wouldn't be here in the first place. Would you."

Roman growled.

"No, I wouldn't be here. But some gods-damned teenage brat decided it was a good idea to be a goody two-shoes and play hero during my shopping time."

"Is that what you call it?" derided Weiss. Roman responded with a middle finger.

"Up yours, princess."

Weiss looked positively scandalized, and she made no effort to conceal her disgusted shudder.

Yang stepped forward, attracting everybody's attention.

"Well, I think we ought to show our new Sergeant here our quarters. That and introduce him to the rest of our squad."

Roman inclined his head.

"Right. You go do that. I'm gonna go find something to do." With that, the man began to slink away. That was until Yang planted a firm hand on his shoulder, squeezing tight.

"I've got a better idea. How about you come join us and introduce the rest of your group to the Sergeant. And then you can help with the clean-up, instead of sulking off to find a supply crate to nap in."

Roman's teeth audibly ground.

"Is that an order?"

"You're damn right it is. And bring the mute with you."

"You know she hates your guts, right?

"Well, she better not test how much I hate hers, otherwise your head won't be the only one going pop today, now will it?"

Roman's expression soured as he conceded. "I'll go fetch her…"

"Good boy." Her squeeze turned into an exaggerated pat, one which Roman seemed to thoroughly despise. That pat quickly became a shove as she shoved him away.

"C'mon boss," she gestured Jaune, leading the way to the barracks.

"Let's introduce you to the rest of your squad."

The barracks were a rather spacious two story building with several large rooms containing multiple bunk beds, another containing the cafeteria, and a final room containing a gym. That was the first floor.

The second floor had an armoury, which was mostly devoid of weapons and ammunition. It did, however, contain a workbench with a vice and numerous tools and lubricants to maintain any gear and guns. The other two rooms were a pool-room with the billiards packed away, and a computer room containing several land-line phones for home calls. Considering most of the cables and wires had been gutted for scrap electronics and copper, however, meant that function was utterly useless now. It was a relic from an ancient time.

The walls were a combination of reinforced concrete with chipped and disintegrating plaster. Sterile white lights hung from the ceiling, Most of the rooms had black carpet, though it was more grey at this point considering how worn and faded it was.

Currently, Jaune was being shown in to the cafeteria, a rather spacious room with an open kitchen bench, two large fridges (one for food, the other for beer), and two long tables joined together in an L.

The most concerning thing, however, was the ominious dark stained splashed against the far wall. It had been scrubbed several times, but whatever had been splashed against the wall was still caked in.

"Um, Yang? What's that?" He asked, and she followed his gaze to the stain.

"Oh, that? One of our Sergeants blew his own brains out playing Vacuo Roulette because the stress was getting to him."

Jaune gulped quietly.

"Ha ha. Very funny."

"I wasn't joking," she replied, dead serious.

"Oh."

Currently seated at the table were several soldiers dressed in rather… unique... combat gear.

They had obviously just returned from the battle and were currently sitting down and eating some quick snacks and drinks.

"'Sup team, come greet our new team lead!"

The responses were varying.

A young man with pink-tipped long hair cast a side eye his way, while a woman with ginger bob-cut curly hair perked right up.

The man was dressed in traditional Mistralian robes, and almost looked like a monk. With the exception of the two bandoliers strapped in an X across his chest.

The woman was dressed in a blinding mixture of white and pink, forming a skirt and shirt top. There was no hiding the giant warhammer resting against the table edge by her side.

They weren't the only ones, however.

Seated at the far end of the table was a woman wearing a combination of red and gold armour, with brilliant scarlet hair tied in a ponytail. A golden tiara helped kept it pulled back, while emerald eyes looked up at him curiously.

She fidgeted uncomfortably with an open MRE package, doing her best to keep the contents from spilling.

Yang deflated at the silence.

"Sheesh, you guys are no fun. Like, ever."

The ginger slammed her hands on the table with a loud bang standing up animatedly. She looked wild, and Jaune almost feared she was about to throw hands with Yang. And then she smiled.

"Fun?! I'll have you know, I'm the most fun person there ever is! Like, ever! Right Renny?!"

The man, obviously Ren, calmly chastised the excited ginger.

"Nora. It's not polite to put your hands on the table." The man sounded as bland as he looked. Completely devoid of emotion.

Nora complied slowly. She still kept her eyes locked on Yang.

Yang looked unimpressed as she rested a hand on her hip. "Uh-huh." Her eyes shifted to the redhead. "And what about you P-money? You got anything to say?"

The redhead slowly met Jaune's eyes. She seemed nervous as she slowly waved a hand his way.

"Hello," she offered quietly.

"Uh, hi," he returned awkwardly with a wave of his own.

Ruby closed the door behind while Weiss strolled for the fridge.

"Hey Pyrrha!" Ruby chirped, instantly walking over to greet the shy redhead.

"Hey Ruby," she returned. The two began to chat away while Weiss dug inside the fridge for a cold bottle of water. Only to be repulsed at the sheer amount of beer.

"Ugh. Yang Xiao Long. Is this much alcohol really necessary?" she opened the crisper, only to be greeted with more beer.

"Seriously?! You have a drinking problem. How did you even manage to get this smuggled in here?"

"Sheesh, relax Weiss. A cold beer is a great way to finish off the day. You should try one."

"I think I have no choice but to if I want to drink anything at all. There's no bloody water in here!"

"Try the other fridge," suggested Ren calmly.

Weiss sent him a silent nod of appreciation and opened the other fridge door. Only to let her jaw drop.

"More beer?! YANG XIAO LONG!"

Yang winced, plugging a pinky in to her ear.

"I heard you the first time. Sheesh, you can really hit those high notes. I don't know whether to envy your boyfriend or pity him."

She wheeled on her angrily.

"I do NOT have a boyfriend."

"Not with that attitude," she muttered back.

The cafeteria door suddenly opened up with a horrendous creak, garnering everyone's attention. Several people flooded in the room, heralded none-other than by Roman.

"Well, I can see we've got nearly the whole family here just about," he commented as he approached the table.

Nora began to hiss at him, bringing her arms up to shield her food, tucking it away from his reach. Jaune suspected there was a story there.

"Well, Sergeant, here's my people. Just as I was ordered," he stated, looking Jaune in the eye.

Behind him were four people.

The first was a silver-haired teenager with messy hair and a sour face. He was probably only a year or two older than Jaune himself.

"Mercury Black," Roman introduced. Mercury inclined his head slowly to Jaune but was otherwise silent.

"Randall Green," Roman pointed out to a scrawny-looking older man, likely late twenties. His features were gaunt and covered with stubble. And of course, hair dyed green. A very putrid shade of pale green. One that was still in the process of fading away since the last obvious application months ago.

"And last, but not least! My favourite little darling, Neo." Roman gestured enthusiastically to a rather petite woman with neopolitan hair and mismatching eyes that seemed to take in everything hungrily. And not in the childlike fascination and awe. No, she was looking as if she wanted to kill and eat everything not nailed down and still breathing. Roman quickly tacked on that she was mute.

Jaune nodded slowly.

"Um, that's great and all, but you've only introduced me to three people. Who's that guy?" He gestured to a massive lumbering behemoth of a man tucked away behind everyone else introduced. His hair was buzzcut, and a nasty scar spread down from his forehead and over his left eye. Ginormous muscles bulged out from the standard VSDF battle fatigues he was wearing.

Actually, all of the prisoners, including Roman, were wearing standard VSDF battle fatigues. Except they all lacked plate carriers oddly enough. Roman was quick to offer an explanation.

"That's because we're not expected to survive, sir. So the VSDF doesn't see the point in issuing us complete gear, sir."

"Yeah, but that doesn't answer my question. Who is he?" Jaune pointed back to the giant man who stood there motionless. A trail of drool slipped out the corner of his motion as he groaned like a zombie.

Roman grimaced. "Ugh. That's –"

"Staaaaaaaaar," the giant man suddenly moaned. He sounded like a zombie when he spoke, and coupled with his blank expression, Jaune was starting to become convinced he was.

Roman sighed, sounding defeated for some reason. "Yeah. What he said. Star. It's literally the only thing he will say, so that's what we call him."

"STAAAAAAAR," the giant repeated in that same monotonous voice.

Neo slowly shifted around before bounding up onto his massive shoulders. She sat there, perched like a bird. Star didn't even seem to acknowledge her.

"This dumb fuckin' hunk of meat makes for a great piece of cover though," Randall chuckled.

"Right, you stupid fuck?"

Star didn't say anything, his arms just hanging there motionless.

Every one of these people Roman brought in, including himself, had one thing in common, Jaune noticed.

They were all wearing an identical steel collar around their neck.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask. What's the collar for?"

Yang was the one who answered.

"They're explosive collars so that way this lot can't go AWOL or try anything funny."

"WHAT?!" Jaune exclaimed in alarm. His eyes went wide as he did a double take.

"What she said," Roman shrugged nonchalantly. "One wrong move, and the press of a button will see our heads pop like a water balloon."

"But-but why?" Jaune was as confused as he was alarmed.

"Because they're criminals, Sergeant," answered Weiss coldly. "This is a penal battalion. Nearly everyone here is a convicted felon." She explained.

Jaune felt his bowels nearly empty.

"What? Even you!?"

Weiss fixed him an icy glare.

"No, I am NOT a criminal." She sounded offended at his suggestion.

Yang laughed at his uneasy glance.

"Ha! The only thing I'm guilty of is being a bombshell," she offered, wiggling her eyebrows his way. Ruby wasn't the only one groaned.

"Yang, stoooooop."

"Nah, this lot of happy huntresses ain't a group of criminals." It was Roman who spoke, and he made a show of gesturing to everyone at the cafeteria tables.

"Only those of us with a collar like this are part of the penal battalion," he continued, giving a useless tug on his own collar for show.

Jaune looked horrified.

"How many of you are there in the penal battalion?"

Roman quickly started to count his fingers, quietly muttering names.

"Uh, well, let's see… There's us, so that makes five. Then there's Foxtrot company. They should be back soon…?"

"Yeah, in body bags. And that's if they can find the remains," quipped Mercury with a snort. Roman wheeled on him with a mortified expression.

"What?!"

Mercury shrugged.

"They got pinned down by a machine gunner in the tree lines, and then artillery finished the job."

"No…" Roman's breath hitched, and a single tear threatened to escape the man's eye.

"They can't be dead…"

Criminal or not, Jaune could sympathise with the loss of a comrade.

"He still owes me… now how am I supposed to get my hat?!"

Jaune stiffened. Neo smirked from atop of Star.

"That selfish bastard," Roman suddenly seethed. "Mercury! Tell me he didn't take my hat out did he?"

"Gone and blown to smithereens," Mercury stated factually.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO! MY HAT!"

Everyone watched the man's dramatic meltdown over the loss of some hat.

"That wasn't just any hat you ignorant baboon," Roman growled when Yang said such. "That hat went through a lot with me. It held memories! Precious, treasured memories!"

After a minute of composing himself, Roman stood upright. All traces of his tears and distress were gone.

"Right, so with Foxtrot Company dead, and that was ten men by the way, that leaves us with just the five of us. Plus the happy huntresses here."

"What? But, weren't you upset at your comrades deaths?" Jaune sputtered in shock. Yang snorted with a roll of her eyes.

Roman scoffed. "Oh please. I could care less about those deadbeats. It was only Nick that I cared about, and that was because he stole my hat."

Neo nodded sympathetically.

Jaune felt taken aback by the callousness exhibited. Yang noticed.

"Yeah, so just a reminder. These guys are criminals at the end of the day. Doesn't matter what sob story they give you, they're not good people."

"Hey, I can be good if you want," Mercury smirked, wiggling his eyebrows her way.

"Aw, so can I. What do you want me to blow off. Your balls or your head? That way you can have something to complement your legs." Yang cooed.

Mercury's smirk fell. "Fuck you're a bitch."

"As long as you understand your place," she nodded, satisfied.

Roman gagged.

"Ugh. Is this what dating has devolved into with the new generation?"

"So, what are you guys charged with then?" Jaune changed the topic. Despite his nerves, he was curious.

Randall smiled slowly, all teeth. Jaune got the distinct feeling he didn't want to know.

"It's okay. Ask away," he taunted.

Jaune grimaced, fixing his attention to Neo who smiled back. Roman quirked an eyebrow.

"She's mute, remember," he pointed out.

Uh, right. "Well, what about you?"

Roman's face fell. He almost looked offended.

"What do you mean? Theft. Don't you know?"

Juane shook his head slowly, fixing the man with a confused look.

"Um, no? Should I?"

Roman definitely looked offended.

"Should you -? OF COURSE YOU BLOODY SHOULD!"

He threw his hands up in exasperation.

"What? Are you serious? How can you NOT know who I am? I am Roman Torchwick! The world's most notorious thief!" he proclaimed wildly. Jaune stared blankly at him. The name did not ring any bells prior to meeting him today.

Weiss scoffed under breath. "Clearly not a good thief."

"What was that?" he growled, his head snapping her way.

She met his gaze, speaking more clearly.

"I said you're clearly not a good thief if you got caught."

Someone sniggered at his expense while he seethed.

""Yeah, well at least I can handle all my problems like an adult without having to turn to daddy dearest like the spoiled princess you are," he retorted with a devilish smile.

She gawked at him, and even Yang couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her.

"Excuse you?! I'll have you know, I earned everything through hard work and dedication –"

"Oh shut the fuck up," Roman dismissed, his expression crumbling into a more contrite one as he waved her off.

"No-one buys that drivel."

Instantly, Weiss began to verbally tear a strip into Roman. Jaune didn't fail to notice the smug smile he was wearing, having successfully riled the Atlesian woman up.

As the two began to bicker, Mercury sent Jaune an appraising look. One he was quick to notice.

"What?" he asked.

Mercury nodded his head, somewhat impressed. Jaune got the feeling it wasn't necessarily him he was impressed at, but rather something else.

"So you're their new Sergeant? That makes you the fifth one now in just as many months."

Jaune looked at strangely. "Wait, fifth? What do you mean fifth?"

Yang overheard and was quick to answer, shrugging.

"Oh, yeah. So our first Sergeant was kinda cool. I'm not gonna lie. Let us drink and stay up 'til whenever. As long as we showed up on time and could shoot straight, he was happy."

Jaune felt unease creep in. "And then…?"

Yang winced.

"He got blown up by one of the prisoners when their neck collar detonated. The shrapnel cut through his jugular while we were out, and we couldn't stop the bleeding."

Damn. That sounded fucked up.

"Yeah, and then we got our second Sergeant," Ruby reminded with a cringe.

Yang furrowed her brow. "Ah yeah. Our second sergeant. Not gonna lie. He was a bit of a dick. Always riding us for something. And then not even two weeks later and we're out on patrol, and this sniper just pops his head clean off, like POP!"

Nora snorted loudly.

"It didn't pop it off, Yang. The man didn't even HAVE a head left."

Yang glared her way. "I'm sorry, who's telling this story again? You or me?"

"Well, tell it right then!" she countered.

Yang rolled her eyes.

"Anyways,-" "Ooh! Ooh!" Roman started to jump excitedly. Yang twitched. He didn't care.

"Are you gonna tell him about your third Sergeant?

Neo looked giddy at the mention of the story. Ruby covered her mouth, looking ill. Ren's lips thinned, while Nora cringed uncomfortably.

"…I was," grit out Yang. "If you people would shut up for a minute."

At their silence, Yang continued.

"Anyways, we got a replacement Sergeant sent out to us. He was a bit…" she trailed off uncertainly.

"Unhinged?" offered Nora.

"Off his fucking rocker?" suggested Roman with a cackle.

"I'd say he had some issues, yeah," Yang nodded slowly.

"Long story short, he's been here for about five weeks, and he's absolutely crazy. Always getting drunk and telling us weird stories. Threatens to execute some of the penal battalion for some minor infraction."

Roman guffawed. "Threatens to? He blew Jack's head sky high! That's not a threat. That's successful murder."

"ANYWAYS…" Yang ground out before continuing.

"So he's always getting drunk and shit. One day he decides to take his revolver and play Vacuo Roulette." Her eyes trailed to the stained walled, and Jaune felt his stomach churn.

"Hits the first trigger, it clicks dry. Hits the second and is still breathing. So then he starts screaming and ranting at us. Takes a big drink and says he has a change of heart and is the luckiest son of a bitch alive, and that we're all so lucky to have him. Pulls the trigger a third time and takes half his head off."

Nora shook her head slowly. "Tried cleaning that wall three times, and the blood still doesn't want to come off."

"Nora, it takes more than just water to remove blood," reminded Ren.

"Well, I didn't see you volunteering to clean it mister," she retorted.

Yang coughed to clear her throat. "So then we get our fourth replacement, and this guy's majorly skittish."

Nora chimed in with a chuckle.

"Oh yeah! The guy starts freaking out, tells us how he hates the front and he wants to leave."

Jaune did not like where this was going, and not just on account of the immediate similarities with him.

"This doesn't really seem like a nice conversation," Pyrrha voiced uncomfortably. Jaune could second that.

Yang threw her hands up, as if trying to absolve herself of something.

"Hey! It's not our fault the guy decided to stick his head over the trench wall. We repeatedly told him it wasn't a good idea."

"What… what happened?" Jaune dreaded to hear the answer, already suspecting.

Nora slammed her hands onto the table, roaring giddily.

"A fifty cal is what happened! Man never even stood a chance!"

"Nora!" chastised Ren, this time a little more forcefully.

"Oops. Sorry Ren." At least she seemed more bashful about hitting the table.

Jaune felt the urge to sit down and maybe even vomit.

"That's… nice to hear," he offered weakly.

"Yeah, we've got a bit of a reputation at this point," Roman drawled.

"Hey, it's not our fault that all our officers keep dying!" snapped Nora.

"But it does happen." Roman wagged a finger mischievously.

"Yeah, well, not much we can do about that," Yang shrugged, squaring up to face Jaune.

"Welcome to the Damned Brigade sir! Hopefully you'll last longer than the last four."

Jaune could only hope so too….

Chapter Text

Hey all,

No chapter this week, or for a bit. I'm finding it really hard to write fanfic these days, and it's getting to the point it feels like a chore than anything. Rather than force myself to write something I feel little motivation in, nor come up with an excuse for why there is no chapter, I'll just leave this up instead.

I'll post an update, hopefully with a new chapter, on October 1st.

Those of you who followed my other fic will know I mentioned some original projects I want to work on, and each day I feel more and more strongly for those than essentially a fan-work.

Nothing more to say really. I thank you for your support so far, and I hope to post something in the future. If I do, I might do away with the weekly chapters so as to not force an arbitrary obligation upon myself.

If anyone wants to do anything with it to sate themselves in the interim, by all means go ahead.

Next time I post will hopefully be with an update. Sorry to disappoint.

See you (hopefully) October 1st.

Peace!

Chapter Text

Arc 2: Chapter 11

The following days passed by free of any notable action, allowing for everyone to focus on clean-up duty.

Camp Grimm had taken a notable beating from the prior faunus assault; one of many it would seem Jaune noted. Ancient foxholes and debris from battles prior littered the compound. There was just no time nor enough manpower to clean it up.

Sandbags were refilled, barbed wire restrung and replaced, or at least the bits nearest to the compound. It wasn't uncommon to hear the odd ping an enemy sniper in the treeline attempting to stop them from going out, and while he flinched initially the first few times he stepped out ot grew old pretty quickly. Everyone else seemed unfazed by it.

"They can't really shoot for shit at this range," Roman explained as he took a wheelbarrow full of spent casings to dump in an ever-growing mountain by the side of a roofless hangar. Metal support beams had long snapped off and caved in to the ground, making it utterly useless in function except as a beacon to dump more military waste and debris.

Jaune couldn't help his doubtful expression.

"Didn't your previous Sergeant get his head taken off by a sniper?!"

Roman shrugged, emptying the casings wave-like crash.

"Eh. Bad luck really." He went to reach for a smoke in his breast pocket, only to scowl as he remembered it was empty.

That wasn't the only case of bad luck then, Jaune grimaced.

It had only been two days since his nerve-wracking arrival, but Jaune quickly realized the curse of the Damned Brigade extended beyond their casualty rate and officer turnover.

The ammunition crates located in the storage tents he had seen earlier? Yeah, they were all empty. Looking back in hindsight perhaps it was a mistake to sabotage the downed bullhead he arrived in as the supplies could have proven useful….

The howtizers? Inoperable due to extensive damage.

The trenches were a caved in mess of spilt soil and foxholes, with every step forward exposing one to a range of angles for an enemy sniper or machine-gun nest.

The only serviceable vehicle that still worked somehow? A single tank from over 30 years ago which Yang was making an effort to show off proudly as he and Roman passed by the motorpool shop. Or whatever counted as it. The depleted fuel bowsers, severed pumps and electrical cables, and variety of scorch marks splashed against the tins walls did little to convince him the room was functional. Other than an oversized storage shed he supposed by now.

"This here's 'ole Besty." Yang rapped the tank's armour with her knuckles before resting her arm across it. The rusting plates were covered in gouges and dents, and a couple reinforced panels were missing entirely. The main turret was bulbous and ugly. Nothing at all modern or sophisticated. It looked like someone had taken a treaded tractor, slapped some steel plates on the outside and stuck half a metal ball on top before shoving in a steel pipe for the barrel.

"She's the only functional artillery we've got sir."

Jaune stared at her in disbelief. She had to be joking. This abomination of machine looked like a relic from the last war. The left tread was missing entirely! The thing couldn't even move, even if it wanted to!

"I mean, that's what we're here for though," she answered matter-of-factly. At his increasingly mortified expression she continued, unperturbed.

"We tow it out of the hangar whenever we need to fire back with something heavier."

"Tow it? With what?"

"Aura's a helluva drug." Yang grinned proudly, flexing a toned bicep. Her enthusiastic grin began to falter however as she watched her new Sergeant begin to despair.

"Um, sir? You alright?"

Alright? How could he be! He'd just been trafficked to the front lines where he was expected to lead a dysfunctional team of Huntresses, all while assisting a spaced out Major in charge of a Penal Battalion that had been relegated to a single squad because the casualty rate was that high. And to boot, the only piece of functional military equipment couldn't even move on its own because it was that damaged!

"Hei, you son of a bitch," he growled.

That Brother Gods damned information broker had lied! His transcripts and documents were supposed to have kept him away from this hellhole. Instead, he was now in the middle of it all.

If I ever see him again, I'm going to drive Crocea Mors straight up his ass! This he solemnly vowed.

"Sir, are you sure you're okay?" Yang faltered.

Jaune forced out a smile with grit teeth.

"I'm absolutely fine Yang."

He was not fine.

Inspecting the other hangar revealed there was in fact another vehicle. An open-back truck with a woodland camouflage canvas cover. And it looked beat up to hell.

"Yang. What the hell is this thing?" he demanded, already feeling sick just looking at the abomination.

"Oh this? This is our transportation," she explained proudly.

"I can see that," he said with exasperation. "What I'm not seeing is how on Remnant this thing is even serviceable or safe to drive when you can literally see the inner workings of the engine block."

He gestured to the missing bonnet and exposed engine cylinders at the front. The side panels had been painted in matching woodland camo, but obviously not repainted or cleaned in forever. Rust was literally GROWING on the damned thing!

Yang winced. "It's not that bad," she tried to defend.

"Yang. It is. This is beyond bad. This is catastrophic."

She grinned sheepishly his way before allowing herself to be lead back to the barracks.

Camp Grimm was a mess.

Reinforcements never arrived, and whenever they were sent, such as HIS bullhead, they got shot down. They had not been resupplied in over two months and were scrounging ammo off of deceased soldiers. All other ammo reserves were depleted, or straight out incompatible with the bizarre weapons the Huntresses (and Huntsmen) used.

The Penal Battalion was on its last legs, having lost over 90% of its members, but that didn't stop Major Port, or even High Command for that matter.

No, they needed to just make do, and hold this base so more VSDF troops could be shipped over and shot down before making landfall. If they even would be sent. The radio tower had been knocked out during the last artillery barrage and was going to take some work to repair.

Forget reinforcements. Do we even have allies out here?

The answer, sadly, was no. Allies were non-existent. At least for another 100 clicks.

For a seemingly important point of entry into the continent, Camp Grimm was rather isolated and vulnerable. While he was far from a military genius, even he could see it was only through sheer dumb luck that this outpost, because he refused to believe it was an actual military fortification, had survived for as long as it had. All it would take is one final push and the place would be overrun.

Yang's theory had him breathing slightly easier.

"They likely expended more rounds than normal and now they need to restock. Our losses might be high, but so are theirs. Keep in mind most of them are militia we're fighting at this point."

They weren't the only ones that took a beating, so he supposed it made sense for the enemy to regroup and recoup their own losses. He would have to take her word for it, because he had no idea about the enemy's logistics. Frankly, he had no idea about their own logistics other than they were not looking promising.

Back onto Mistral, there were a couple villages spread out around the area, but Yang had been quick to inform him of their neutrality. If indiscriminately opening fire on anyone who approached them counted as neutrality….

Pyrrha had been the one to quietly explain much earlier that while the Mistral Federal Government and Armed Forces were technically allied to Vale, much of their bulk came from conscription. And while Mistral was certainly not as harsh to live in as Vacuo, it was definitely much more difficult to survive away from the major cities and settlements unlike Vale.

The lack of working aged men was taking its toll on the now vulnerable communities. As such, the inhabitants, mostly children and elderly, were happy to provide shelter and aid to either side in exchange for protection against marauding deserters, bandits, and Grimm.

And that was another thing. Where were the Grimm? Ever since his arrival, he had not seen any?

That alone was cause for worry, but Yang was quick to reassure him.

"Out here on the front-lines it might be miserable, but everyone on both sides can look after themselves and has each other. That and a whole lot of ordinance to blow them back to hell. Out in the country though, the communities are defenseless and anxious, so there's more negativity on the outskirts of the battlefields and deeper inland. That's where the Grimm will be concentrating."

And all of a sudden his relief at no Grimm shifted into sickening horror as he realized the grim reality of why.

"No point in focusing on it, Sir," Yang grimaced upon how ill he suddenly looked. "We can sometimes patrol out to the nearby villages and keep an eye on things in exchange for intel and supplies. Cull a couple Grimm and keep the people calmed down."

He nodded numbly, but considering how tenable their own predicament was and he doubted they were doing much Huntsmen work anymore.

The communities here were essentially on their own.

"Ah, so there's our newest Sergeant." He turned his head to the source of the bubbly voice. Nora.

In the two days since getting to, sort of, know her, she was simultaneously the easiest person to read, and the hardest. Like Yang, she held herself aloof with a projected sense of certainty and even humour, acting as a someone to fall back to and rely on. She was also surprisingly guarded and tight-lipped on many matters. Almost as if she were afraid to get to close to anyone.

It was contradictory at times, and hence his interactions were rather sparse and limited. Not to mention the sheer amount of work needing to be done around this shithole kept getting in the way of forming relations with his new squad.

Nora was practically skipping over to him, an exasperated Ren on her heels trying, and failing, to reel her in.

Yang instantly went over to greet her, the two locking into an energetic embrace.

Ren was the one who spoke up, calmly regarding Yang and barely even sending him a glance. Considering he was actually the highest ranked person present, he felt a little miffed to be so casually ignored and disregarded.

Then again, these people have been fighting for months non-stop. I'm just the new guy.

"The Major is summoning everyone to the War-Room for a mission brief."

Yang's face fell at Ren's words, his tone as stoic as ever. "Ah," she grunted. "I guess it's time…."

Time? He frowned. If Yang wasn't happy, then he had a feeling he was going to be even less thrilled.

The War-room was dusty, dirty and falling apart. Sterile white lights desperately clung to rotting cables, the sound of electricity a faint hum. It was only broken by the occasional sound of a bug being fried when it got too close to the exposed wiring.

Jaune eyed the lights and cables warily. "That's not right…"

The whole place was ready to burn down with how abysmally run-down the infrastructure was.

"Pfft. You're telling me," Yang snorted incredulously, following his gaze.

Returning to focus on the giant paper map sprawled atop of the central wooden table, the mumbled chatter amongst the huntresses and huntsmen echoed out. Everyone was present.

Major Port made his way to the head of the table without any urgency, his arms crossed behind his back. The green jacket of his uniform threatened to burst at the buttons and the seams alike as it struggled to contain his girth.

"Ah, good. All you young'ins are here," he rumbled out contently. Jaune had come to realise pretty quickly the girthly man was rather informal and relaxed whenever he spoke to them.

He didn't speak to them like soldiers or subordinates, but rather as father would to his son.

Of course, the man's lacksadaisical attitude was not be conflated with indifference. Even if he was eccentric at best….

The chatter began to die down, a product of some military discipline Jaune figured.

Weiss stood crisply at attention, eagerly awaiting the mission brief. Her crisp white uniform, freshly washed and ironed, was a stark contrast with everyone's worn battle fatigues.

Ruby and Nora were less disciplined, quietly chattering and giggling amongst themselves as they shot an exasperated Ren several sly glances.

Oddly enough, the remainder of the Penal Battalion was in attendance as well. Though, that was perhaps because there was no-one else in Camp Grimm, so double-handling of orders to relay was more of a hindrance at this point in time.

Randal, Mercury and Star all clung to the back of the room, garbed in battle fatigues. Roman hung closer to the table, with Neo leaning up against his side with a self-assured smirk. A smirk which contrasted with his unimpressed glare. It was as if the table had personally offended him.

All that left was Pyrrha who seemed to stand still, awkwardly fidgeting with her fingers. She stood nervously at the corner of the table, staring intently at the map in the hopes of it distracting her.

The Major cleared his throat before delving headfirst into the mission brief.

"As you all are aware, following the lack of supplies because our reinforcements were shot down, we need to acquire munitions and importantly, intel!"

He clapped his hands together sharply at the end. Roman rolled his eyes, while Nora yawned. Even Yang looked bored. In fact, as Jaune glanced around, everyone seemed to be rather disinterested in the briefing.

"Since losing our radio tower, we have no means of communication with our allies, and more importantly, the mainland."

Roman snorted at the word allies, and Jaune caught the eye-rolls of several of the huntresses. Major Port ignored them.

"Therefore, it is imperative that we send word to High Command that we need reinforcements to strengthen our position, and fresh supplies. To that end, you should all know the drill by now. One squad will watch the base, while another will head into Myrewood and trade for intel. Oh, and also cables, transistors and steel framing," the Major quickly chucked on as an afterthought. "That is all people."

Jaune couldn't help but blink.

That was it? That was the whole brief? This seemed hardly to be what he would consider a 'plan'. It was more a loose set of objectives, and ones without any clear explanation at that. Trade for intel? What were they trading? To whom? And for what specifically?

Everyone seemed to nod half-heartedly along, clearly understanding what the older man wanted. Jaune did not.

"Um, sir?" he ventured.

"Yes my boy," came Port's enthusiastic voice. He wished he could share in the man's confidence.

"Could you please explain a little more clearly these objectives? Who will be in each squad? What intel are we looking for? What are we trading with, and to whom?"

Several people seemed to stare at him with a mixture of expressions ranging from mildly curious to annoyed. There were plenty of others who didn't even grace him with a glance.

Roman was the one who answered, albeit with a hint of derision.

"The Happy Huntresses stick together and play detective, while us in the Penal Battalion have to do community service. The only ones exempted are the Major, and the two snipers providing overwatch."

At the mention of overwatch Ruby's face fell and she let out a childish grumble.

"Aw man, I hate having to do overwatch. Why can't I go with you guys?" she pouted, to which Yang chuckled.

"You're the one that wanted a sniper-scythe Rubes." She turned to face him then.

"In essence, what the convicted thief said. Ruby and Randal are gonna provide sniper overwatch for the Penal battalion while we all head out to Myrewood and barter for supplies and information from the locals."

Nora nodded slowly, trying to force some enthusiasm into her voice. Trying and failing.

"Trust me, we've done this plenty of times before. It's boring."

He somehow doubted that.

The Major cleared his voice once more.

"Ahem. I suppose you aren't aware since you just transferred in. After every battle, we usually have a few days reprieve as the faunus regroup and reorganize. We use that time to salvage for supplies and trade goods with the locals."

Jaune felt as if he were in a daze. None of this made any tactical sense?

"We'll be trading for the supplies necessary to get our radio operational again. While we lack that, we'll be reliant on what the locals have to share with us in terms of developments," Yang explained, doing a much better job than the Major.

"Yes indeed. Splendid explanation Yang!" the Major praised exuberantly.

"Why, it reminds me back in the day before the war when I had to go out to a remote village in the Valean Alps and – "

"Anyways," Yang interrupted, letting the man ramble on about past glories, real or imaginary. "The point is it's a pretty straightforward objective to grab some equipment and basic intel, and then head back and bunker down for the next assault."

He eyed her uncertainly. "Okay? But what about our squad formation? Who's going? How many of us, and what positions will we be taking?"

Bootcamp might have been short, but it still taught military doctrine. It dictated a basic infantry setup for what essentially amounted to a light reconnaissance mission.

Light packing for mobility with an emphasis on speed. Right?

"The five of us will be going," she gestured to herself, Ren and Nora, himself and interestingly enough Star.

Said giant tilted his head quizzically whilst pointing a thumb at himself.

"Starrr?"

"Yup. You're coming along too big guy," Yang reaffirmed resolutely.

Weiss obviously disapproved if the way she was shaking her head exasperatedly was any indicator.

"I still can't believe you take that brute with you."

"Hey. He listens to orders pretty well. Far better than you anyways. Not like you ever want to join us."

"Excuse you? I am an ATLESIAN huntress first and foremost. I can't disobey MY superiors orders and traipse across half the battlefield with you on a whim?! Why should I listen to some backwards country baboon when you're not even a military superpower!"

"Gee thanks for the faith, Weiss. Try not to jinx us with your dogma," the blonde huntress retorted sardonically with an irritated roll of her eyes. Weiss' hackles instinctively raised, her lips curling into a hiss.

"It's not dogma, it's logic! Pure and simple. Why are you Valeans and Mistrals so obtuse about common sense and basic history?"

Nora tentatively raised a hand.

"I mean, you could always head out with us?"

Weiss shook her head as if offended by the idea.

"I have my own set of orders I must obey as per Atlas military Command."

Excuses. Even he could see that. Unfortunately for her, Yang was more willing to call her out on it.

"Do those orders include getting trapped in a foreign base and not finding a way back? Or are they being a stickly coward and hiding away because you're scared."

Yang seemed more teasing than anything, causing the Atlesian woman to flush.

"Of course not! However, the inherent risks posed right now, in tandem with the precarious situation you have all found yourselves in, necessitates that someone needs to stay back and make sure things run smoothly."

She flashed Jaune a doubtful expression. "Especially since the majority of our leadership is heading out for recon."

Jaune's lips thinned. That seemed like an overly polite way of insinuating her lack of faith in him, or more likely, just another excuse.

"Someone needs to stack back and make sure our defenses are organized lest we have another incident."

A quick glance at the Major revealed he was still rambling aloud to a non-existent audience about some long-winded story.

Yeah, she's probably right. The Major doesn't seem like he's going to be a huge help, Jaune realized.

"So, do we have a sniper overwatch for us then?" he cut in before things could get any more heated.

Ruby threw her hands up.

"See Yang? I told you, I should go with you. You need a sniper out there to watch your backs! Not stuck in here."

Yang's lips thinned as she glanced uncomfortably at Ruby, instantly forgoing her feud with Weiss.

"Nuh-uh. No way Rubes," Yang denied, her head shaking furiously.

"We've had this conversation before. You're safer here in the compound than out there."

"You're not though!" She protested, her small frame shaking angrily.

"You can't keep trying to coddle me like this Yang. I'm experienced, just like you."

Yang shook her head.

"Shooting someone from afar with a sniper is a lot different to engaging someone up close and personal. You know what the faunus would do to you if they captured you and found out you were a sniper!"

"No different than if they caught you! And that's if they even caught me! My semblance makes it literally impossible to capture me. Unlike you!"

It was obvious there was some serious tension that had not been resolved he noted. And it was clear that it would not be resolved any time soon.

"Uh, look, I'd still feel more comfortable if we had a sniper providing overwatch for us."

Yang wheeled on him, fixating him a warning glare. He stepped back, slightly taken aback.

It took but a second for her glare to fade away before she fixated him with a thin smile.

"Trust me, sir. We've done this before. Everything will be fine. Just… trust us."

Jaune's lips pursed uncertainly.

This whole theatre of operations felt like it was being run as if it were some sick, stupid joke.

The problem was, he didn't want to the butt of the punchline. That would mean certain harm or even death. Their cavalier attitude was going to not only get him possibly killed, but ultimately themselves.

"I would like to reiterate, having some form of long range cover would be a good idea."

That and a medic. God knows what could happen out there.

"Then we'll take Randall," Yang hurried out. "But I'm not letting Ruby come with us. It's too risky."

Ruby wasn't the only one to scowl as Randall stood up from his chair in the corner of the room with an audible scrape.

"Oh, too risky for your precious little doll, but totally acceptable for me to be killed or carved up by some mutts? Class act bitch."

Yang glared his way, pointing a finger in his direction warningly.

"You, shut the fuck up and keep my sister out of your mouth."

He shrugged.

"I'd rather be in hers, but hey, yours will do."

Lilac eyes flashed red, a guttural growl emanating from the seething blonde.

"Yang! Please stop," called Pyrrha. "It's not worth it," before sending Randall a disgusted look.

"He's not worth it."

The wiry man only deepened his scowl before sinking back into his seat in the far end of the room.

"Ahem," the Major coughed.

"While I love your enthusiasm, I should point out that time wasted here is time being gifted to the enemy to be used against us."

For the first time, Jaune could agree with what the man said.

There was no time to waste.

That didn't change the unease he felt in his stomach. He wanted to pull his hair out at how obscenely absurd this situation was. It was almost like all leadership was nonexistent, and whatever was left had all taken a collective stroke.

Perhaps I really need to step up and act like a leader, he pondered.

Obviously it was his assigned role, one he wasn't too enthused about, but if this was indicative of anything, then cavalier attitude in the face of such deadly consequences would not bode well for any of them.

Then again, they've been here longer than me.

Perhaps for now he should let them lead the way. They obviously had been doing this long enough.

All he had to do was trust in his teammates that they knew what they were doing.

Chapter Text

Arc 2: Chapter 12

Jaune felt his back jolt as the truck hit another ditch in the dirt road. The lack of suspension was already taking years off his spine's health, and he winced as the truck bucked up slightly over a stone.

"You doing alright back there?" Yang called from the front cabin. He only just caught her head turned into the back carriage bed through the open slot window.

"Does this thing have any suspension?" was his pained reply.

Yang chuckled.

"Nope. Just the way we roll," she chuckled before turning back to focus on steering. The truck veered all over as she followed the winding and hilly road.

She wasn't even speeding, yet he kept sliding around the wooden bench seat. The aluminum canvas frame rattled as the engine shuddered pathetically, making the whole truck vibrate.

Yang took another bend, a sharp one this time. He slid down to the cabin wall, only to suddenly find 200 plus kilograms of muscled meathead sandwich into him.

He squawked indignantly as all dignity was stripped from him and flatpressed like a pancake into the cabin wall.

Star merely whined with crossed arms. "Star….."

"I hear you buddy," concurred a sarcastic voice. Mercury. The truck righted itself and Star slid off, allowing him to scramble away from the cab wall with a gasp.

Mercury. A last second tag on at Yang's insistence. Not because he contributed anything of value other than the occasional sarcastic quip or smarmy insult directed at anyone unfortunate enough to cross his vision. But because Yang didn't want him around Ruby unsupervised. Which felt quite ridiculous all things considered he felt. The younger sister seemed quite capable as it was, and she was far from alone with the other huntresses at the base. But Yang's overprotectiveness and paranoia seemed to refuse to budge in the face of reason.

His attempts to voice such had been strongly reneged by Yang. Who was his subordinate for crying out loud.

In the face of her brash and overbearing demeanour, which was highly reminiscent of his sisters, he defaulted to simply caving in and accepting the peace.

So, a begrudging Mercury now sat seated opposite him with crossed arms and a sour look across his face. Next to him on each side sat Nora and Ren.

Nora hummed to herself with a goofy smile. All while nursing a giant warhammer like it was her first-born.

As for Ren, he sat dead silent, arms crossed and hands gently resting in his lap as he meditated, undisturbed by the rough ride. He never moved from his position, no matter how rough the turns were.

He had tried to ask Ren what the trick was, but the man remained silent, eyes closed as if he were in a deep trance. One day he vowed he would learn Mistralian man's dark arts. This he swore to himself.

Or maybe find a suspension kit or something in town when we get there. That seemed like a good idea.

Speaking of the town, they had been driving for over fifteen minutes and still not arrived at their destination.

I thought the place was only fifteen clicks out?

"How long until we're there?" He felt like a child pestering his parents in a car trip as he spoke. Yang's reply came back, confident and calm.

"Well, if we keep this pace? I'd say another five or so minutes."

The truck jolted once more and seethed, a curse slipping his grit teeth. He was going to tell her to be more careful as she drove, but her sudden and frantic angry cursing put hold to his grievances.

"Oh, brother gods fucking dammit!"

The engine coughed and sputtered, and he instantly knew something wasn't right as the truck began to decelerate and glide to a stop. Well, if jostling over stones and uneven ground counted as a glide.

Yang's cursing continued to grow in volume and intensity as the truck lost energy and momentum.

When it finally came to a stop all that could be heard was the chafing of a failing ignition.

Jaune looked around at everyone. Ren was still meditating quietly while Mercury began to shake his head, disappointed. Nora looked confused, and Star? Well he kept doing Star things.

Finally, Yang called out to them, though it was not with kindness.

"Nora! What the hell did you do to my truck?!"

"Oi! I didn't do nothing!" she shot back just as fiercely.

Angry lilac eyes suddenly peered through the cab window into the back .

"Well, you did something, because now this blasted thing won't even start." Thew sound of the ignition desperately trying to work could be heard, but much like an old race horse, it just didn't have the guts to go beyond the finish line. It sounded just as pathetic and worn as one too.

Mercury shook his head before fixating Jaune with a knowing look.

"Women. Am I right?"

Jaune's lips thinned as he made to stand up. "No comment."

A brief chuckle was returned to him. One which he ignored as he made his way to the back of the truck.

A quick glance outside revealed they were inside a valley of dirt mounds and hills. Trees encapsulated them on both sides, long wiry branches which swayed like unkempt hair in the breeze.

Because the road weaved in and around the terrain there was ample cover to stand outside and not fear being immediately shot. At least he hoped so.

Without further ado he vaulted out the back, keeping his rifle at the ready. One never knew when the enemy could strike.

Walking around to the front of the truck and he found himself start to cough as smoke blew into his face. The front grill and bonnet were leaking smoke like a sieve did water.

Shielding his face, he wasn't the only one reduced to a spluttering mess as Yang opened the driver's door and jumped down.

He forced himself to push forward and pop the hood open. Upon doing so he was assailed with even more smoke.

"Gods dammit! Nothing ever lasts in this shithole," Yang angrily exclaimed, jumping back as the hiss of steam and a dead engine introduced itself.

He side-eyed her critically. Wasn't maintenance part of her responsibility?

"We have a motorpool. Is it really that hard to do some basic maintenance?"

Her vision narrowed as she spun to face him.

"If we had some fucking tools." He stiffened at the sudden hostility.

"I'm just asking," he clarified defensively.

"Yeah, right. Sorry," she winced, realizing how her outburst sounded.

"It would be a lot easier, but most of our supplies are gone, and a stray artillery round conveniently landed in our old shed. We lost a lot of stuff in the process."

It was his turn to grunt now. "Guess we can add some tools to the list of things we need here then." She nodded grimly. They wer ein desperate need of a lot of things.

Footsteps approached them, revealing Nora and Ren. Where Ren calmly strolled up to them, Nora bounced.

"Ew. What happened?" her nurse curdled as she got a whiff of burnt aluminum and smoke.

Yang raised an irritated eyebrow in her direction.

"You happened is what."

"How is this my fault?" she protested.

"You were the last person to touch her is what. Whatever you did downright murdered the poor girl!"

As the two began to squabble, Jaune decided to stick his head closer to the engine. Ren joined his side as he rummaged around, waving smoke away from his face.

"Find anything?" the stoic huntsman asked after a minute of enduring Jaune's grunting.

A glance down revealed where the smoke was originating from. The radiator of all places.

"Yeah," he pointed out to the front of the truck where the radiator grill was located.

"Pretty sure that's not supposed to be happening."

Ren followed his gaze. He hummed contemplatively.

"Ah. I see. That might be a bit of a problem."

The whole radiator was warped and damaged, and the foam padding covering the various wires and tubes to it and back to the engine were brittle from constant overheating.

"Guys," he called to the two huntresses.

They glanced over his way.

"I know you said maintenance was difficult, but um, how do you miss a whole radiator being trash worthy?"

"What?!" Nora squawked before rushing to his side.

"Gimme a look!" she barged over, knocking him aside as she peered in. Her face grew more and more mortified.

"Oh no. No no no! Argh, GRRRR!" She wanted to claw her eyes out.

Yang's expression was no better as she went wide-eyed with shock at the damage.

"Nora, what the hell?!"

"I swear, it wasn't like this when I did the maintenance yesterday!" she proclaimed.

Yang was having none of it. Her head was shaking as she fumed.

"Nuh-uh. That's it. That's the last time I ever trust you near the motorpool."

"Yo, what's the commotion?" came Mercury's voice. His arms were crossed behind his head as he approached with Star lumbering behind him.

Both were dressed in combat fatigues, though Star had some makeshift armour plates strapped to his chest and limbs. He looked like a juggernaut, especially with the massive belt-fed machine gun draped in front of him.

"Is it fixable?" asked Ren, ignoring Mercury. Everyone ignored the silver-haired young man, much to his chagrin.

Jaune sent Ren a pained expression that seemed to ask if he was really that stupid. Nora and Yang were no better as they fixated him with unimpressed glares.

"Are you for real mister?" said Nora.

To his credit, Ren seemed to recognize his mistake in asking what was now apparently a foolish question.

"Ah, my apologies. I will admit I am not as familiar with mechanical engineering."

Nora shook her head.

"Ugh. To answer your question, maybe later, yes. Right now, though, she's rooted to the spot." She suddenly clasped her cheeks, already despairing. "Oh geez, I just hope the engine isn't damaged otherwise we'll be really screwed."

"How would the engine be damaged? Isn't it steel?"

Jaune continued to stare at him as if he were an alien right now. Ren caught his glance.

"What?" he asked, confused. Why was everyone so upset at his question? At least he admitted when he didn't know something.

Jaune shook his head.

"Nothing," he muttered. Just another thing to add to the list of growing worries about his squad.

Mercury peered over the hood, catching a glimpse of the radiator.

He let out a whistle.

"Damn. How'd you let that happen?" he asked, almost impressed.

It wasn't like a radiator was easy to damage from overuse if one did sufficient maintenance. Of which clearly did not happen.

"Oh, not you too," growled Nora.

"I swear it was fine yesterday. I did all the necessary checks and it was running fine!"

"Yeah, I can tell," bit back Yang.

Jaune tuned them out, dipping his head to peer underneath the truck.

There were no leaks from oil or radiator fluid. Therefore the damage must have come from something else internal. Unless Nora really did have a bad eye for identifying obviously broken parts.

It didn't change their current predicament. One thing was certain after all. They weren't going to be driving anywhere anytime soon.

Yang kept pacing around while rubbing her face in exasperation. Nora kept waving her arms frantically as she tried to absolve her assumed guilt.
"It almost looks like the engine cooked itself," he muttered as he noticed the heat cracks along the joins where the coils, pipes and cables connected the engine.

"Dust engines do build up a lot of heat," Mercury commented before calling out to the two huntresses.

"Oi, did you load the right dust cartridge into the dust injector?"

Dust engines were often fed raw dust as a combustible fuel, but to give vehicles an extra performance boost and kickstart the engine, a dust injector would ignite an elemental dust type like fire or lightning or sometimes even gravity. This dust was kept in an injector canister mounted in the engine and trickle fed when needed. Not only was it cheaper than injecting elemental dust in pure concentration into the engine, it was also safer. Constant exposure to elemental dust could result in disaster unless the parts were treated and graded correctly.

Sadly, in this ancient rust-bucket, Jaune doubted that was the case. This truck had been in service for easily 50 years by the look of things.

One canister could easily last a good thousand kilometers before needing to be replaced.

Nora shot Mercury a strange look upon hearing his question.

"No, I didn't need to because one was already loaded in yesterday."

Mercury depressed a cylinder on the engine, and with a hiss, a steel tube popped up.

Snatching and hoisting it in the air to inspect, he frowned.

"Looks here like you have no injector dust."

"What?! Gimme that!" Yang snatched it from his hands. He surrendered it over without a fight.

The cylinder had a small meter to indicate how much Dust was present. It was completely empty.

Slowly, she turned her head to Nora.

"You're supposed to check the dust injector regularly. You should know this by now," she grit out with an ominous smile.

Nora inspected the canister, only to reject it angrily upon seeing the truth for herself.

"No way." She denied. "This was full yesterday. I checked it."

"Well, it's clearly not," Yang fired back.

"You know what happens if there is no dust injector. The engine has a much harder time starting and it can overheat and damage the parts more easily -"

"I don't need the lecture Yang," the ginger woman grit out.

He could sense tensions building as the blame game intensified.

"Guys. Let's just calm down," Jaune forcibly interjected, physically putting himself between the two women. Their ire didn't lessen just because there was an obstacle between them.

"The engine's toast. There's not much we can do about that out here. What we need to do is look at what we're going to do next."

"There's not much we can do out here without the truck," Mercury groused.

"We can still head to Myrewood by foot. It shouldn't take long to get there by foot, nor get back here," suggested Ren.

Yang's expression was one of pain as she sent him a look.

"I think you're conveniently forgetting the fact that our truck isn't going to be moving anytime soon, even when we get back. That means we have potentially a lot more walking to get back to camp."

Ren huffed, crossing his arms.

"We can always look for replacement parts in town and then you can patch the truck up."

Yang couldn't help but throw her arms out n the arm.

"Oh, really? Fucking genius. I never would have thought of that. All we need is a spare radiator that's compatible with the truck and a replacement dust injector!" She brought her arms down and tossed Ren a withering glare.

"And remind, what are the odds that Myrewood has any of that since the last time we arrived?"

Nora snorted, and with a roll of her eyes put an arm out on to Yang's own. The blonde glanced back.

"Same as our odds of finding any of the things we need to get, but it doesn't mean we can just give up."

Yang bit out a bark of laughter as she recoiled from her touch.

"Ha? Give up? Me? I think you got the wrong girl." She breathed out. "All I'm saying is we have a bit of a hiccup."

Jaune coughed to get their attention.

"So we need a radiator? Can't we just use any old one we find? I mean, at least to get us home?"

Yang hummed and ahhed. "I want to say no, but we might have no choice."

"If you found something I could jury rig it up," Nora offered.

Lilac eyes narrowed back at her.

"Yeah, we'll see."

"That still doesn't solve the real problem. We need a dust injector," Nora ignored her.

Jaune nodded, taking mental notes of what to look out for.

"I'll stay back here and watch the truck," she began before muttering. "Have a look to see if any other issues are plaguing us that we don't yet know of."

Yang tossed her a small radio. "Keep in contact with us. And don't break anything else," she warned.

Nora caught it easily while Ren vanished around behind the truck to grab something.

Jaune couldn't help the knot of worry form in his stomach.

"We really shouldn't be leaving anyone alone out here." He still didn't understand how everyone, including Nora, seemed so nonchalant and blasé about being left alone in the middle of an active warzone.

Yang shrugged. "Trust me, we do this all the time. As Huntresses, we can tank a lot more damage."

"And I've always got this," Nora grinned maniacally, brandishing her warhammer. With a quick flourish it transformed before everyone's eyes into a grenade launcher. A bright pink grenade launcher.

Jaune felt himself sweat.

I'm pretty sure that paint-job is not army approved… Right, Huntsmen. Jaune suddenly felt sheepish.

By now Ren had returned with two small cloth sacks.

"We'll take these. I know we're supposed to trade with Lien, but I think our odds of getting something are far better if we use food."

Yang peered into on the of sacks curiously upon him setting them down.

Her eyes met his. He held her gaze unflinchingly.

"Are those our MRE's?"

Ren shrugged.

"No-one is bothering to eat them."

"Heh, fair. Alright fellas, let's head in to Myrewood."

Jaune frowned. He felt like he should be the one saying that.

Then again, they have more experience than me. It shouldn't hurt.

Jaune could tell Myrewood was once a quaint village before the war started. As it was now it was a myriad of run down structures with missing roofs, exposed timber framework, and rubble swept to the side.

Entering the dirt street, it was apparent the war had left its indelible mark. And the residents were none too pleased to see soldiers, even if they meant no harm, show up to.

All around them, the locals, garbed in traditional robes and attire, gave them a wide berth. Some retreated behind stalls. Others hid behind curtains or doorframes.

Mothers shielded their children. Elders sent them baleful glares. But none dared approach them. Any dissent was quietly muttered amongst themselves.

"I thought Mistral was our ally?" Jaune ventured, looking around. Ally was a loose term out here, even with his understanding. However, officially, Mistral was in support of Vale. So why did it feel like these people wanted nothing more than for him to go die in a hole? That was certainly the vibe they were giving off anyways.

Unbidden memories resurfaced.

While he certainly didn't feel threatened by these people, that didn't stop him from keeping a tight grip on his rifle.

It was Ren who answered. He held no weapons in his hands, content to let them remain sheathed in the small of his back.

"Officially the government is. You'll find more popular sentiment in the cities and major settlements. Out here, people are left to fend on their own though."

He had heard the words before, but hearing them again was a stark reminder. An unsettling one.

"Even still, though, we're on their side? It's not like we've done anything to them?"

Ren already had an answer.

"Not to them we haven't. We're participating in an armed conflict only a few miles from their home. A conflict which has seen munitions detonate above their heads, destroy their homes, and maim and kill their friends and relatives."

A glance around supported his statement, and damaged state of the town became much more understandable now. And that made Jaune feel ill. To know his side was in part responsible for this destruction.

"The Mistral government supports the draft and has taken many men away to show support to Vale," Ren continued with a shrug, as if that alone answered everything. Unfortunately, it did.

By now they had arrived in the centre of the main street, and all around them a maze of huts, small buildings varying from single to double story with gabled roofs surrounded them.

Rubble and empty crates decorated the empty alleyways.

"Well. Let's split up," began Yang. Jaune felt his eyes shoot straight to her in surprise. She didn't notice.

"Ren, you go and talk with the locals. Try and see if you can find out if the people here have heard anything new. Mercury. You go with Jaune and try and find some wire and transistors. Anything we need to get the comms back up and running. I'll take Star and try to find us some tools for the truck."

"Are you sure it's wise for us to be splitting up like this?" he didn't bother to call her out for ordering him around.

"Relax. Nothing's going to happen. Besides, we'll cover far more ground this way."

That wasn't his concern. If Myrewood was neutral, then that meant faunus soldiers could technically also arrive to conduct business as well. He voiced so, only for Yang to shake her head with a frown.

"Neutral doesn't mean they're welcome either. Mistral is still technically at war with Menagerie."

He was still doubtful. Myrewood might be a part of Mistral, but it was apparent they didn't fully endorse Mistral's stance.

"But even still, having us split up like so puts us at risk and leaves us vulnerable." It was bad enough they left Nora alone to work on the truck. He didn't feel comfortable splitting everyone up even further, even if Yang seemed certain it would be fine.

Yang shook her head in exasperation.

"Alright then, what would you have us to do?" He detected the growing irritation in her voice. Kindly, he refrained from mentioning it.

"We need to stick together. We can hit the shops together. The town's not that big anyways."

The town looked like it barely had a population of 200 people. Everyone appeared thus far to be women, children and elderly. He hadn't even seen any weapons so far.

"That'll take time," Yang argued.

"But it's much safer for us."

"Respectfully, sir, I think you misunderstand what counts as safe out here."

She wasn't the only one growing frustrated. He could feel some heat creeping in to his voice.

"And I think you misunderstand that I am your sergeant, and I don't really feel comfortable having us split up even more, especially when nearly half of our group is comprised of convicted criminals who would happily go AWOL if given the chance." That seemed ironic coming from him. He could feel it, but he still stood by his decision.

"Er, no offence Mercury," he quickly tacked on upon seeing the man's quirked eyebrow.

"Nah, none taken man. I'd totally bug out of here if I could, but," he tugged on his collar. "Y'know."

Yang's face was quick to set into a grimace.

"No-one's going to be deserting. Not while I have this," she thumbed the detonator in her pocket, revealing it for all to see.

"So I really don't see you're point."

Jaune's eyes narrowed.

"My point is that I want to ensure all of our safety, and that means I need you to work with me and not fight me at every turn."

She rolled her eyes. Ren watched the two, his eyes flitting back and forth. He made no show of supporting either side, however.

"I am trying to work with you. But there's a way we work out here in the field. We've done it countless times before."

"And I can respect that, but it feels a little reckless is all. There's no need to unnecessarily place everyone at undue risk," he began.

Yang exploded.

"Risk? There's no risk. The only thing that's a risk is an untrained and untested officer coming along and trying to order everyone around. You want to talk about risk? You're the real risk right now. And I'm trying to help you by showing how we do things." She snapped.

Ren eyed the two warily before finally speaking up.

"I think you both raise valid points. Perhaps we should put it to a vote?"

"No. There's no need," she spat. "Sergeant Arc here is in charge and knows best." There was no missing the sarcasm in her voice.

He knew exactly what she was trying to do, and it was beyond infuriating.

"I'm not saying I know best, or anything like that," he tried to argue. "All I'm saying is we should stick together."

Yang scoffed before brushing past him. "Then lead the way, sir."

He hated how he didn't say anything, even when he felt everything.

Jaune felt inclined to say the shops were helpful and welcoming, but that was because they saw no choice but to capitulate when a group of armed soldiers and huntsmen walked in to peruse for materials.

The first shop was run by an elderly woman with her disabled daughter. As in the woman had no legs following an explosion.

He forced himself to not stare was she pushed herself along in a derelict wheelchair which had seen better days long ago.

Star's intimidating size and deadly silent demeanour, along with the massive machine gun strapped to his chest, had proven to be a little much for them.

They left with nothing more than a box of scrap copper wire, much to everyone's chagrin.

The second shop fared little better, and they left a couple basic tools that were a few sizes too small. They were likely meant for children to experiment around with, such as the miniature steel hammer and wrench.

A few screwdrivers didn't go amiss in the makeshift toolkit.

As they left Yang could be heard commenting.

"Sheesh, talk about a warm reception. This place seems even drearier than the last time we came."

Jaune would admit he didn't know. But Ren was quick to agree with her.

"Indeed. I've noticed the people are a lot more wary of us this time. They also have substantially far less goods."

Yang hoisted the bag of tools up in the air to examine. "Yeah, tell me about it. If this is the best they have on offer I don't think we're going to be making much progress with the comms when we get back."

"Forget that, what about the truck?" commented Mercury, pointing out the obvious. "If we can't get that hunk of metal up and running again, we're down yet another piece of equipment."

That was a somber reminder of their stark situation.

"Hopefully the next shop will have something more to offer," Jaune dared to hope. The Lien they had brought had proven to be of minimal value. Ren's idea of bringing food with them to barter had proven ingenius and was what helped them get as far as they had.

The next shop was not much different than the others, if only a little larger. A two-storied building with a curved hip roof resting atop traditional stone walls. Etched motifs depicting various gods and other religious icons were visible, but time had not been kind to them. Much of the architecture was chipped and damaged, mostly due to age and weather rather than the war. But the building still stood, so it was a testament to its design. Or its luck.

Marching up the wooden steps to the cluttered porch, Yang opened the door. A small bell could be heard jingling.

He felt his eyebrows shoot straight to his forehead as he was visually assaulted with what was most likely a hoarders wet-dream.

Boxes upon boxes of scrap metal, parts and most likely junk towered up in unstable pillars to the roof. They probably provided more support to the roof than the actual support beams did. It would certainly explain why the building was not as collapsed compared to the rest of the town.

Navigating through the maze of junk, they approached a counter.

Dust and dirt littered the floor. If it weren't for the obvious bootprints and still smoking incense candle, he would have assumed the place derelict and abandoned.

Well, that and the small girl no older than nine standing on the chair behind the counter.

"Pa!" she called out to the door on their left. Her black pigtails swung around as she turned her head to the door. Her pink tunic was clean and well fitted; a stark contrast to the other children he had seen in the town.

"You have more visitors!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Just a second!" an elderly voice croaked out from behind a scarred wooden door in an adjoining room to their left.

The sound of shuffling footsteps could be heard before said door creaked open, revealing a short elderly man with wispy white hair and beard. He wore a simple grey traditional tunic.

His tired eyes quickly widened in to alarm as he closed the door behind him.

"Oh, no. Oh no oh no. This is bad! I can't serve you. You need to leave!"

His voice was hurried and frantic, eyes darting in panic.

Mercury's jaw subtly tensed and his eyes took to scanning around the room.

Yang was different. She always was.

"Hey, look buddy. We're here just to buy some things we need."

The man didn't listen, hobbling over to them.

"No you don't understand, you need to leave. Now."

His voice quickly began a hushed whisper. Conspiratorial. Terrified.

Yang took a step forward, but Jaune beat her to it. After her earlier display, he didn't trust her negotiating skills.

"We're not here to cause you any trouble. We're just looking for some parts, and heard you might have them. The other vendors have – "

The man quickly shoved his bony arms into him in an attempt to push him away and out the door.

With their weight and strength disparity, however, Jaune didn't budge.

Military doctrine would demand he tackle the man to the ground for what amounted to as 'assault', but he liked to think himself more pragmatic to read a situation.

The man wasn't trying to fight him. If anything, he seemed afraid.

"You need to go. It's too dangerous!" he hissed, glancing over his shoulder to the door he just came from. Pleading.

Star lumbered over with heavy footfalls to the old man, and Jaune felt his breath hitch.

"Starrrrrr." The man moaned, almost sounding sympathetic to the man as he towered over him. He reached a hand out gently to extricate him from Jaune.

"Pa!" the girl suddenly screamed out in panic.

The shopkeep flinched as he looked up at the towering behemoth of a man, garbed in heavy kevlar plating.

"Leave him alone!" she screamed, racing around the counter to intervene. Jaune had no idea what it was she planned to do considering she was a child.

Mercury wasted no time and instantly caught her. She lurched forward, coming to a stop as he picked her up.

"And where do you think you're going?" he demanded. She screamed.

"Mercury!" he roared. While he would admit he was a pushover at times, he had a line. And right now it was being crossed.

"Put her down now!"

Mercury shot him an unimpressed look.

He didn't budge.

"That's an order!"

"She could be a threat" he grit out as he held her close to his chest. Her arms were pinned to her sides, and her feet kicked the air helplessly.

"She's a child. Star! Let the man go, we don't need you terrifying them any more than you are," he barked to the giant suddenly..

The behemoth man slowly recoiled, as if stunned.

Jaune's head snapped back to Mercury. "She's not a threat, and you know it. Now let her go!"

"Ugh. Fine. Don't blame me if she tries to shank you." With that Mercury released the now crying girl. Only instead of running she fell flat on her face. Tears streamed down her face.

"Hey kid, calm down!" soothed Yang. If bellowing out an order to a distressed child counted as soothing. What dysfunctional idiots were these people?! And why wasn't Ren standing up to help? The man was stone faced and unmoving, more content to watch than anything.

"Yang, you're not helping!" Jaune snapped. He had just about had enough of her by now.

Star stumbled to life, thunderous steps approaching the child.

Oh no, not him now!

"Star, stand down!" he ordered. To no avail. He shot a frantic glance to Yang, but she was moving to restrain the old man who somehow found the energy to move straight towards him and the girl. For likely obvious reasons.

Mercury's snorting could be heard as he sauntered over behind the counter. A beaded curtain led into an office behind it.

"Mercury, what are you doing?" Jaune exclaimed.

The silver haired man quirked an eyebrow at his exclamation.

"What's it look like? I'm taking a quick peek around is all." With that, he pushed through the beads and vanished into the next room, all the while ignoring Jaune.

Dammit, no-one's listening to me! He was a sergeant for crying out loud. He outranked them. He was their assigned leader, and yet no-one seemed to be taking him seriously at all right now. No-one was listening.

Star couldn't understand him. Ren was useless. Mercury didn't even listen to him. And Yang, who was supposed to be his second, kept taking charge when it suited her.

Experienced or not, he already had a clear picture as to why they needed an assigned officer. Their lack of cohesion was a recipe for disaster. And he hadn't even gotten to experience the others back at the base.

"Dammit, just… Everyone calm down!" he bellowed out.

Predictably, no-one listened. Star stood in front of the crying girl, and Jaune berated himself for letting himself get distracted. He screamed out for Star to stop, but the giant man didn't. Jaune lunged forward, but it was meaningless.

Literally. Star didn't move to crush the girl's skull like he feared.

Instead, he knelt down and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Star?"

The girl glanced up at him, her face a red mess of snot and tears.

And then Star did the unthinkable. He stuck his tongue out and blew, like a parent did to a toddler.

The girl stiffened, her crying dying down.

Yang felt herself stop as the shopkeep she had pinned down froze.

"Star!" Star repeated, almost giddily.

He was surprisingly gentle, Jaune would give him that.

He glanced back towards Yang and the scene of her holding an elderly man down to the ground with his arms behind his back.

"Yang. Release him. He's not a threat. None of them are."

Silently, Yang stood up, hoisting the old man up to his feet. He groaned painfully, and Jaune felt his blood boil. This was wrong on all levels. He wanted to scream and hurl abuse at her, at Mercury. At Ren even. However, petulant outbursts weren't going to get him anywhere. He needed to be much stronger and act like a leader.

Why does it have to be me? He growled to himself.

At least this situation can't get any worse.

The door the shopkeep had entered in swung wide open, revealing the occupants from the other room.

Instantly all eyes turned to the man in the door, or rather, men.

The men in turn went wide-eyed as they locked eyes with him.

Because they weren't just men. They were faunus. Faunus soldiers, if the numerous guns and beige uniforms were any indicator.

They all locked eyes with each-other in surprise.

"What the fuck?!" one of them blurted out dumbly.

Jaune cursed his luck. It certainly felt rotten these days.

Chapter Text

Arc 2: Chapter 13:

Both sides stared at each other with expressions of dumb confusion, or in Jaune's case, sheer panic.

This was absolutely a worst case scenario. Caught in a tight space with civilians exposed to both sides, with no cover or time to even reach what would at best amount to paltry concealment.

As his mind raced against impossible odds to find a solution to this perilous predicament, everyone moved.

He felt like a helpless bystander as the world slowed down to a crawl. Realistically he knew everything was happening so fast, yet his mind, overloaded with adrenaline, seemed to drag everything to a dead crawl.

He watched as the first faunus in the doorway slowly fumbled to swing his slung rifle over his shoulder to bear on them.

He watched Ren, who was leaning against the left hand side of the doorway, twist and arch his body to deliver a kick to the door itself. Maybe in an attempt to shut it in the faunus' face?

The faunus in the back screamed in surprise, bring automatic rifles to bear.

And Yang? She didn't hesitate.

The deafening rack of her shotgun gauntlets rung through his ears like tinnitus, her arm punching towards the faunus.

The shotgun blast was like thunder, and the flash of the muzzle on her wrist was like a miniature sun flashing into existence.

The first faunus was sent flying backwards into his comrades, blood shooting forwards and splattering across the back of the old man and the floor. He didn't have body armour or aura.

At the same time, Ren's heel connected with the door and it slammed shut in the faces of the panicked soldiers. Jaune liked to count himself as one as he swung his own rifle around.

The door shuddered from the sheer force of Ren's kick, the wooden frame buckling. It was at that moment his eyes went wide in realisation.

He, and everyone else present, was in a perfect lane of fire directly before the door. The door which acted at best as now redundant concealment. Not cover.

"GET DOWN!" He screamed, more to himself than anyone else. He threw himself forward, shoulder checking the stunned old man, and bringing them both to the floor boards with a painful crash.

The elder cried out in pain, pinned by him to the ground. Star craned his head over his shoulder his body shielding the terrified child. And not a moment too soon.

The room descended into chaos not even a second later.

Automatic gunfire ripped through the door, shredding it as if it were little more than wet paper. Splinters went flying, and years of dust were kicked up, plunging the room into a sandstorm of sparks, debris and dirt. Rounds from multiple guns flew every which way, making contact with stone walls and whittling them down to nothing more than tortured rubble.

Pots, pans, scrap metal and other junk were sent tumbling, the sound of metal striking and denting metal almost as deafening as the roar of the enemy's guns. The screams of the elder and the child were drowned out. He was positive his screaming was also in the mix, but over the chaotic sound of combat it was reduced to a mere note in the song of violence. Barely recognisable.

Ren pressed himself against the door frame, rounds soaring centimetres from his face and body. He drew his sickle handguns, strange weapons that they were.

Yang was quick to duck down adjacent to Ren on the other side of the doorway, her gauntlets ready.

As quickly as it started, the gunfire abruptly ended. The sound of the faunus screaming out to each other, alongside the sound of fresh magazines being slapped into guns and bolts racking could be heard on the other side.

A quick glance over his shoulder revealed Star did not have the luxury of time to move. He was caught right in the middle of the shooting.

He was hunched over the ground, his silhouette in the dust reminiscent to that of a massive boulder as he sat curled over.

There was no way he would have survived that onslaught. It was by all means a miracle that he himself did.

The elder groaned underneath him, and he caught wind of a complaint about he had broken his back. Considering how frail the man was, and how much gear he was wearing, he could probably believe it.

"Ren, you ready?" called out Yang. What was she doing? He could barely make out her form pressed against the wall.

Ren must have nodded, because before Jaune could even dare ask what she was doing, she suddenly ducked around the corner. Literally. Like a boxer, she weaved in low before extending up, arms braced forwards as she advanced. She punched the air as she vanished from his vision. That didn't mean the muzzle flashes of her shotguns couldn't be seen illuminating the room, nor the deafening blasts as 10 gauge was sent down range.

Ren slid in right behind, silent as ghost. And as frightening as one with his stone cold killer expression. The sound of automatic pistols firing could be heard, alongside the screams of panicked faunus.

The gunfire returned as a battle ensued in the next room.

Scrambling to his feet, he cursed.

Dammit, things are out of control.

Out of morbid curiosity, he dared to look at Star who was assuredly dead.

The giant was hunched over the girl, having shielded her from the onslaught.

"Dammit. Kid, are you okay?" he asked. The only response was a catatonic whimper from the poor girl. Shock over what just happened.

It became his turn to be shocked as Star suddenly shuddered to life, slowly rising to his feet with a long groan. He jumped back with a surprised yelp.

The makeshift armour plates were scratched, dented and warped beyond repair. They barely hung to the seams of the straps on his body. However, they must have worked because he was otherwise unharmed. Jaune could hardly believe it himself.

Somehow, the man survived every round that had impacted with him.

That's gotta hurt like hell though. Star would certainly be bruising later that night. If they made it to night in the first place.

Now's not the time for morbid thoughts.

"Star, you alright?" He asked, rushing over to help the man to his feet.

"Staar," came out the long groan. Instead of checking himself for injuries, he reached down to shrug the girl's shoulder.

The man certainly has priorities…. Jaune thought.

"Star, we need to go help the others."

Gunshots echoed in the room next door, but it was clear the gunfight was carrying down the entire building as people moved. The walls surrounding him echoed with action.

With a slow turn and wobble, Star faced him.

"Star," the man muttered. He brushed past Jaune, nearly sending him stumbling to the floor.

"Hey! Star? What are you doing?!" he panicked. He made to reach out and grab the man, but 200kg of soldier was essentially impossible to manhandle, even with all his strength.

Star hoisted his massive machine gun up to his hip and aimed at the doorway.

Jaune's eyes went.

"Oh no. Star! Don't! They're on the other side!" He was referring to his teammates, but it was too late. The massive gun roared to life, and like the juggernaut he was, he began to march into the next room, all the while holding the trigger down.

Bullets went flying as a new combatant entered the arena. Only this time, the heavier rounds of the belt-fed gun chewed through the wall like a hot knife butter. And anyone unlucky enough to be on the other side.

"Shit," not for the first time he cursed. With a conflicted glance at the distraught locals on the floor, he raced behind Star, all the while screaming for the massive man to hold his fire.

The next room was chaos.

There was no telling what it was supposed to contain originally, only that everything in there was now fit for the bin.

Several cabinets and counters for kitchen suites could be seen scattered around. They were happily being shredded down by the volleys of gunfire from both sides. Or more realistically, Star.

He caught Yang hunkering down on the other side of the room behind a couch which was exploding material and stuffing everywhere as the faunus fired upon her location.

Ren on the other hand was nowhere to be seen.

Star just kept marching, slowly arcing his gun in a deadly beam of death to the left side of the room.

A few faunus ducked their heads down behind other bits of furniture, not keen on joining the handful of corpses scattered on the ground.

The rounds sawed through their concealment, for that was all it was, and their agonized screams could be heard.

"Star! Hold your fire!" He wasn't the only one screaming desperately for him to let go of the trigger. Yang was calling out over the din, but it was pointless.

Star was going to bleed his belt dry, and anyone who dared get in his way.

Within seconds, the ammunition belt ripped from the box it was in as the last few rounds joined the rest in redecorating the room in a more abstract work of carnage.

And then there was silence. At least from his gun.

Ren's automatic pistols could be heard in another room, alongside returning gunfire from a couple faunus soldiers trying to get away.

Jaunes ears rang, and he couldn't hear anything other than it.

"Was that it?" he called out to Yang, no doubt louder than he thought he actually was.

She shook her head as she leapt to her feet, gauntlets primed.

"There's still a couple more. Ren's gone after them."

And isolated himself from the group. Just great, he seethed.

"Where's Mercury?" he looked around suddenly.

Yang was just as bewildered as he.

"I don't know? Wasn't he with you?"

No, the bastard had ignored his orders and gone into the, what he presumed anyways, office.

Yang hissed aloud. "That little rat bastard." There was no time to worry about him, however.

"We need to find Ren," Jaune stated. And when this was done, he was going to have some words with him for charging off alone like that. Yang too. And Mercury. This whole team was fucked!

"And Yang." She glanced over at him.

"Don't head off alone like that again." He hoped his voice was firm and strong. Her lips thinned, but she didn't say anything.

"Follow the gunfire?" she suggested.

Sure enough, the sound of Ren's pistols shooting back and forth with faunus rifles could be heard down the hallway in the next room.

They were going to have to. He nodded nauseously, already dreading having to leave his piece of cover.

As if she were reading his mind she inclined her head.

"After you," she gestured. He looked at her with a bewildered expression. She rolled her eyes.

"You're the one that said don't go charging without you."

"I said don't go charging off alone without first letting me know!" he snapped back.

Follow the gunfire was an apt tracking method. However, by the time they found Ren in the next room, he was standing over a pile of corpses. Blood dripped from the blades on his sickle pistols.

It almost felt like a scene straight from a movie. The lone huntsman surrounded by his defeated enemies who were no match for him.

"Is that the last of them?" demanded Yang as she stormed in to the room, eyes swiveling around as she tried to verify for herself.

Ren flicked the blood from his weapons before sheathing them, fixating them with a passive stare..

"As far as I can tell, but there might be more."

Angry voices could be heard outside, along with panicked screams. A muffled burst of automatic gunfire rang out.

They all locked eyes with each other.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna lean to more," Yang drawled.

The rifle in his hands felt ready to snap with how tightly he was gripping it.

Yang spoke up. "We need to leave. Now."

It wasn't a suggestion. Ren seemed to nod in concurrence. It was a sound move, Jaune would agree. But there was a one problem he had with it.

"We need to check back on the civilians."

Ren was impossible to get a read on, but Yang was predictably, well, Yang.

"They're most likely dead," She shook her head.

"They're not," he fired back heatedly.

She didn't even bother to conceal the heated look she fired his way, nor the irritation on her face.

"Now's not the time for a bleeding heart. We need to get out of here and get back to the truck."

Jaune shouldered the stock of his service rifle. He didn't aim it down the hallways they just entered from, but he kept it at the ready. Just in case. Instructor Ballsin had always drilled into his, and everybody elses heads, that it didn't matter if a corner had been cleared, you always treated everything as if it were uncleared and hostile. Enemies could lurk, false walls and trapdoors could reveal hidden kill traps.

It was funny, in the heat of all the adrenaline, it was one of the few things his mind could focus on clearly.

His teeth grit as he shot her a forceful glare.

"And we will. But not until after we secure the civilians."

Yang returned his glare, but he refused to back down.

"Do you seriously want us to waste time right now? Even if they are alive, they can look after themselves. We need to get back to Nora! She's by herself."

She didn't even wait for his reply before gesturing for Ren to follow her. "Ren, with me. We'll reunite with Star and take the main road back to the truck."

She made to brush past Jaune. That was until she felt someone's hand latch out on to her wrist with a vice like grip.

Her head snapped to his in surprise, and he barely processed that her eyes were flashing red. He could have sworn her eyes were lilac? Perhaps the light was playing with him.

"I just gave you an order." His voice had a warning edge under it, and Yang tensed. Her face twitched with frustration as she met his gaze defiantly. He kept holding it, however.

It was Ren who intervened and separated the two.

"Yang." For such a quiet and composed man, his voice had a surprisingly sharp undercurrent.

"Let's just do as he says."

She shot him a pained expression, but with a scowl she reluctantly snapped her arm back from Jaune.

She missed the sigh of relief her sergeant quietly gave, oblivious to the internal panic he was feeling.

His tough act was just that. An act.

"Fine. Let's make it quick though," she shot him a scowl. Her eyes were still vaguely red. That little detail lost its meaning for him as a piercing scream suddenly cried out from down the hall.

Their heads all whipped to the sound, out of sight. Jaune eyes widened.

The girl!

He didn't even hesitate. His feet carried him down the hallway, his gun and gear swaying and jostling as he thundered down. Ren and Yang followed without hesitation.

Storming down the hallway, their heavy footfalls belayed their urgency. It only picked up when a shotgun blast roared out from the room up ahead, followed by a panicked scream and a burst of automatic gunfire.

Another shotgun blast followed, and just as they came up to the doorway a faunus was sent flying. The soldier slammed back-first into the adjacent wall with a pained grunt and messy bloodstreak before sliding down.

Jaune entered the room first, his rifle raised. It was as much of a mess as when he left it. However, there were a few things different this time. Namely Mercury standing in the centre of it all with a disinterested look.

"Mercury?!" Jaune called, surprised, but not ungrateful. Yang and Ren filed into the room, with the former standing guard at the doorway as she surveyed the room.

A faunus soldier could be seen laying face-first in a pool of blood right before the girl and her grandfather. The grandfather that was lying on his back, whimpering in pain.

She sobbed uncontrollably as she huddled over him, small hands embraced around his neck.

He lowered his gun upon seeing the room was empty. That didn't mean he wasn't moving. He was already rushing to the two of them.

Mercury remained silent, watching him rush by with indifference.

"Hey, you alright kid?" Jaune asked with worry. He made to put a hand around her shoulders to gently pull her off, but she just screamed. She lashed out with a tiny fist to bat him away, one which missed him entirely.

He leaned back, his eyes going wide with horror as she inadvertently revealed the insane amount of blood staining the front of her cloths.

He recoiled in shock, her deafening wails fading in to the back of his skull as mere background noise.

The blood wasn't hers. Physically, she looked uninjured. The same could not be said for the grandfather.

His chest was riddled with bullet holes, and his raspy breathing was strained and wet. The floor under him was slick with blood. Oh, there was so much blood.

"…shit. Guys, get over here!" He screamed. He immediately began to fumble for his first aid trauma kit. Every soldier was given one. It was basic and rudimentary, only meant to buy time until proper help arrived, but it was something.

"Don't bother. He's already a dead man," Mercury shot apathetically.

Ren came to a stop by Jaune's side, silent as he went to apply pressure on the man's wounds. The elder in turn cried out in renewed pain.

Jaune's fiery glare went ignored by the silver-haired teen. Instead, he just stared at Yang. Her head cocked.

"What?"

He didn't respond, only looking at her oddly.

She felt her blood run cold. Something wasn't right.

Suddenly he leapt forward, spinning around to deliver a high kick. Her eyes went wide as the barrel of the shotgun nestled in his foot came to bear on her face.

She swore as she ducked, bracing Ember Celica as his foot travelled high and landed on the crook of her neck.

She didn't have time to move any further before a deafening crack went off.

Her ears felt like they exploded with how loud and sharp the shotgun blast was. With gritted teeth, she pushed through it and swung with an uppercut.

"I always knew you'd be a traitor," she snarled, intending to pump his face full 10 gauge.

His head tilted back lazily, allowing her uppercut to miss his face before he clamped a wrist down hard on her outstretched hand.

He didn't even flinch as she discharged a round.

A scream rang out behind her, and for a brief moment her eyes flicked from Mercury to the source of the voice.

The faunus soldier originally blasted into the hallway fell back with a bloodcurdling scream, dropping a handgun to the ground as he desperately clutched his face in agony. Or rather, what was left of it.

Mercury's shotgun blast had straight out sawed half of the unfortunate soldier's face off, revealing mangled red flesh hanging on by various meaty threads. Teeth and bone alike had been shattered and sent spraying out.

He fell on to his back and writhed in pain, feet kicking. All that came out was a garbled noise, by virtue of the soldiers tongue and mouth being eviscerated. One eye was ruptured in its socket, with the other being the only sign that it was a face to begin with.

Yang's jaw set as she glanced back at Mercury. He held her gaze unflinchingly, still keeping a hand clamped on her wrist.

"I guess next time I better not save your life. Being a traitor and all," he quipped with an amused look.

With a scowl she withdrew her hand from him. It was with great reluctance that she grit out "Thanks." She certainly didn't sound appreciative, the exact opposite if anything.

He let his foot come down slowly as she pushed off from him.

"You're welcome," he called out after her.

Jaune could only watch the whole thing with fried nerves. At this rate he felt his hair was going to go white.

With his heart pounding, he focused his attention back to the dying grandfather.

Enemy or not, a part of him felt awful for leaving the man alone like this.

"What are we going to do about him?" he asked. He was afraid of the answer.

Yang shot him a strange look. Ren didn't even bother to glance back, too busy keeping an eye on the chaotic street.

"What about him?" Mercury cocked an eyebrow.

Jaune gestured to the still screaming man.

"We can't just leave him like that?"

"Why not?" Mercury's head tilted to the side.

Jaune stormed to his feet angrily. Ren quickly lurched forward to try and apply more pressure to the elder's wounds.

"Brother gods dammit, do none of you have any fucking empathy!?"

Yang's knuckles went white as she clenched them, and he could make out the faint traces of regret on her face as she gazed upon the wounded man. Mercury had no such expression.

"He's going to die anyways. It would just be a waste of supplies on him. And time," he added. "Which it seems like we don't have much of." The sound of sporadic gunfire in the streets could be heard outside.

"Jaune." It was Ren, and he felt his gaze snap back to the huntsman. "I can't stop the bleeding. He's lost too much blood as it is. I think…" he trailed off as he side-eyed the weeping girl. She still clung to her grandfather's neck.

Now it was Jaune's turn to clench his fists helplessly. The man's wounds were too severe. The odds of getting him professional medical care were practically zero out here. Even he could privately acknowledge that. Still, that didn't mean he could just give up. He had to try something. He had to!

"Dammit," he ground out. This whole situation was a disaster. "Then what are we supposed to do?" he pleaded into the air. It was an empty question. One which he already knew the answer to. Just one he didn't want to face.

Precious seconds crawled by, punctuated only the by the sounds of misery from the destroyed family.

Mercury scoffed.

"You're too much of a bleeding heart sir."

In two quick strides he marched over and raised the heel of his boot over the man's face.

Jaune's eyes went wide with panic. Ren pulled the girl up and away as quickly as he could, already sensing what was about to happen.

"Wait Mercury, what are you doing?!"

He didn't say anything. He simply brought his foot down with a vicious stomp. Along with a violent shotgun blast.

Jaune screamed.

The man's head exploded into chunks, and Jaune could only watch in horror as an eye skidded across the floor and bounced off his own boot. He barely registered the streak of blood whipping him in the face.

Mercury lifted a sloppy foot coated in flesh, blood, bone and brain matter. Strings of gore sloughed off as he gave it a good shake.

The girl screamed uncontrollably, flailing violently in Ren's arms. Yang was already storming up behind him, screaming profanities and threats. Mercury tuned it all out, instead meeting his horrified gaze with a confused one.

"What? He was gonna die anyway? You were the one being a bleeding heart about him. I thought that's what you wanted me to do?"

Jaune didn't even try to hold back his stomach's contents as he emptied them across the floor.