Year Nine of the Great War

Vacuo

Dearest Mother, it is with a joyful heart that I write to you on this day, the 25th of May in the year of 1876. As of today, the Valean Frontier Corps has retaken the town of Nanking. We are making admittedly slow progress in retaking Vacuo, but King David made a promise to personally lead the charge when we drive the Atlesians and Mistralis out. We just need to push through to Vacuo's capital. Perhaps soon this whole war will be over and humanity can get back to fighting our common enemy, the Grimm. We lost fifteen men to an ambush by a pack of Beowolves yesterday. Five of those men, boys, really, were under my command. I can't help but take the blame onto my shoulders. General Washington has laid down a strategy to slip across the Delta River at dawn and surprise the Atlesian artillery camp on the other side. I'm afraid I can't write any more details as it'd be a threat to security.

I'm confident we'll be victorious tomorrow, but now I must rest for the upcoming fight. With all my soul, I promise you that I will make it home to you and my sisters.

Second Lieutenant Jaune Arc, Valean 105th Infantry, Valean Frontier Corps.

The young man of eighteen put down his pen and sealed the letter in the envelope with a wax seal. The seal had a symbol of two crescents. He brought the parchment out to the weekly mail caravan. Just as he'd dropped the letter into the cart, a runner came up to him and saluted. "Lieutenant, sir, the General has asked for your company in his tent, sir."

The officer nodded and proceeded up the hill to the largest canvas structure on this side of the river. He dusted off his coat and adjusted the sword and pistols on his belt before heading inside.

General Washington's quarters was a whirlwind of organized chaos as messengers went in and out to all corners of the camp, reporting that everything was in order for the next day's invasion. The center table was cluttered with maps, messages, pens and vials of ink and the occasional stray pistol cartridge. The man himself was young for such a decorated serviceman, with brown hair tied back under a tricorn hat. His calculating silver eyes browsed a manuscript of some kind. Lieutenant Arc stood at attention and waited.

Without looking up, the man spoke, "Ah, lieutenant. I do hope you weren't busy, but these are times for urgency as you are well aware.

"No sir, just sending a letter home."

"I see. Your a good soldier, Lieutenant. I've trusted you with many secrets and missions few could withstand."

"Thank you, sir." Jaune Arc said.

"Well, then let's get down to business, shall we?" He asked and motioned to the maps on the table. The largest one was of the region they were in, with the Delta River cutting the desert in two like a darkened vein beneath the skin of a drunkard.

"As you know, we'll take Atlas's largest outpost this side of Sanus." Jaune nodded, "However, I have some news. Due to the enemy's artillery superiority, I fear my men will be gunned down before the first cock crows. That's where you'll come in." Washington brought his finger down to a small marsh, maybe two miles downriver. "I want you to lead a small group around the camp and cripple their defenses by destroying their howitzers. We can lend you the last of our explosives and three of the best men from our scouting regiment."

Jaune absorbed the news, then nodded again as they went over the details of the plan.

The 2nd Lieutenant exited the tent and yawned, he needed to reach his cot before he fell where he stood.

The blonde officer left the tent, loading one of his two revolvers as he walked. They were symbols of both his rank and skill. Their were relatively few guns to go around for Washinton's garrison, and most were reserved for cavalry, snipers or high-ranking officers. He took the OTs-38 pistol after fighting a Mistrali captain in a fight of swords. It made a fitting trophy and served him well over the past year. It had an effective range of 50 meters and the fired cases were kept in the cylinder, thus ensuring the absence of sound of ejected shells. The SP-4 cartridges employed a captive piston so there was no flash or loud report upon discharge.

His other gun was a Colt Model 1848 Percussion Army Revolver. It was a .44 caliber revolver designed by the legendary Samuel Colt for the Army's Regiment of Mounted Riflemen. The revolver was also issued to the Mistrali Army's "Dragoon" Regiments. This revolver was designed as a solution to numerous problems encountered with the old Walker Colts. Although it was introduced after the war had started, it became popular among civilians and officers during the 1850s and 1860s, and was also used during the battle of Fort Castle. Jaune had taken it off a specific Atlesian mercenary who enjoyed decapitating prisoners and enemy soldiers with a naval broad-ax lined with fire dust.

He holstered both guns and adjusted Crocea Mors, his arming sword and shield. Although, no one would guess it held a shield as it was the first of it's breed; a mechashifting weapon. The sheath could expand into a heater shield and even latch on to the blade itself, expanding the arming sword into a heavier, two-handed broadsword.

It was around 0300 hours and he needed to brief his new squad. They were waiting for him outside the munitions building, basically a box of wood and extra thick canvas. The three men appeared... questionable, at best.

Joshua Glas, a young coyote faunus that was said to be the best shot in the scout regiment, was looking directly down the barrel of a .50 caliber bolt-action rifle. Yury Ivanovich, dressed in a light grey trench coat and ushanka hat (in the desert) was cleaning his spectacles with his machine-gun perched precariously on his lap as he sat down on a very large cannon shell. The last man, Aiden Walker, was a heavy-set fellow in a slouch hat and metal cuirass sharpened an ax while sitting on a log and smoking. These were the men he had to work with. How grand.

The trio saw his approach and got up, standing at attention. "Corporals Glas and Walker, Sergeant Ivanovich. I'm Lieutenant Jaune Arc. I'll be leading this group on a mission straight from General Washington. Before the invasion starts, we're going down the Delta River, crossing it and making our way back up to the Atlesian camp. Once there, we'll sneak in and set off charges at their munitions cache and artillery guns. Load up with minimal food and water and plenty of ammo. We move out in ninety minutes. Ivanovich will carry the dynamite while we cover him. Glas'll take the rear and he and I will carry flare guns for signaling while I lead in front, Walker will be in between and carry extra supplies."

"Yes sir." They all replied.

At approximately 0500, they departed the camp and ran down the shore, crossing the wet marsh and legging it back. They were two hundred meters outside the camp when they stopped at a clump of dead trees on a sandstone ridge. Glas kneeled and peered through the M84 scope while Ivanovich readied the explosives.

Jaune stood a few feet from the rest of his men and reached under his coat to grab the necklace his mother had given him. It was a gold talisman depicting an eagle, holding a flintlock pistol in one talon and a trident in the other. He pressed his lips to it stuffed it back underneath his coat as the marksman reported his findings.

"LT, we got at least fifty infantry men in the main camp, groups of four making patrol rounds every five minutes. I can see the howitzers. There's three pointing towards the river with two pointing upriver and two pointing down. They've got piles on piles of 120mm shells. A well-placed stick'a that fire dust'll send 'em up in flames."

"Got it. Glas, find the best vantage point you can and cover us as we move in." Jaune ordered. Joshua nodded and attached the makeshift silencer to the barrel of his rifle. It was basically an old canteen filled with cloth packing and painted black with shoeshine.

Jaune pulled out his OTs-38 and a trench knife. They crouch-ran under the cover of twilight fog and found a gap in the hodgepodge walls that surrounded the camps perimeter.

They suddenly stopped and crouched when they heard another patrol coming. Jaune faced the ridge wear his sniper was positioned and used hand signals.

The four-man patrol was armed with Atlesian FG-42's and rather simple shortswords. The team waited for Glas to take out the first guard, then Jaune took out two with his pistol and Walker decapitated the last with his ax.

After hiding the bodies as best they could, they slipped passed the walls and made their way to the guns. The closest were the ones pointing down the river, Yury planted two charges on the guns and one near a pile of ammunition. He fed the charging cable back to a safe distance beyond the walls and they continued on, planning to thread all the cables to one trigger and blow the charges once a safe distance away.

Things didn't go that way as they ran into a young private holding two steaming mugs of coffee. He was also right next to an alarm bell. The three stopped with baited breath, Jaune's pistol level at the boy's chest.

The boy looked from them to the bell then back again before making up his mind. They were out of Glas's line of sight so they could only hope the shot from Jaune would knock him back enough to miss the bell. He fired as the private broke for the bronze alarm, and they all cringed when his body twisted in place once the bullet reached his chest, falling and his head striking the bell's rim.

Jaune's senses shut down for a moment, he felt stuck in place as the bell swung and the ringer struck the shell with a church-like 'gong'. They immediately sprinted for the next guns as soldiers were roused from the bell, other guardsmen ringing their alarms in kind. Seeing no other options, they decided the guns pointing to the river were now the main mission and Yury readied the explosives. He merely kept a grenade in one hand and fired from the hip with his machine-gun. They planned on throwing the grenade, inside the explosives satchel at the guns when they reached them and sprint back to their exit, blowing the rest of the charges on the way out.

As they ran, both Jaune and Joshua fired their flares, praying that the General would see it and kick the attack into action. They made their way through a trench and found the howitzers. Jaune took out Crocea Mors and went on the offensive, covering Yury with Corporal Walker while Joshua kept laying down cover fire.

When his pistols ran dry, he grabbed his sheath and hit the button on the end, expanding it to its shield form with his family crest emblazoned on the front. The Arc crescent moons shone in gold against the white background as he blocked a downward strike from a bayonet and stabbed a soldier in the abdomen. He kicked the man's body off his blade and kept up the heat. "Ivanovich! How're we doing with the explosives?!" He ducked under a shotgun blast and threw his trench knife into the gunner's neck.

He turned to see Sergeant Yury Ivanovich lying on a pile of artillery shells, multiple bullet holes punctured through his chest. A trickle of blood fell from his lips as his head hung limp.

Jaune cursed and grabbed his comrade's grenade before stuffing it into the satchel and throwing it at one of the guns. Not waiting another second, he sprinted back through the trench he came. The explosion was enough to make him stumble as a wave of heat washed over that section of the camp. Several smaller explosions went of as the fire from the first ignited artillery cases around it. He didn't know where Walker was, he figured he'd fallen in combat. The lieutenant stopped in his tracks when he saw Joshua Glas strike an Atlesian with the butt of his rifle and shoot him in the stomach.

He quickly raked the bolt back and swiveled in Jaune's direction. The blonde held up his hands to stop him before the gun went off, the .50 cal flying past his head and pulverizing the head of a soldier behind him. Jaune grabbed Glas and yanked him into cover. They took a small break to reload their guns and catch their breath.

"You could've killed me, you know." Jaune told his squadmate. "Yeah. But I didn't." Joshua replied with a chuckle. As his adrenaline lowered, Jaune felt a tingling pain in his shoulder and reached back to feel warm wetness. Withdrawing his fingers into view, he saw blood. He cursed.

"You alright, boss?"

"Yeah... Probably. I think it's just a pistol round and it went through clean. Did you see any sign of Washington's forces?"

"Oh yeah, the attacks in full swing. The rowboats had just landed when I came into the camp." Joshua said as he chambered a fresh set of bullets into his gun.

"Alright, we'll make our way out and blow the second set of explosives-"

"Oh, I already did that when I came down. Figured we were past the point of no return when the bells went off." Glas added. Jaune absorbed that information. "Well, considering that I'm wounded and you're not exactly equipped for CQC... Tactical retreat?"

Joshua grinned at the prospect of returning to the friendly side of the river, "Tactical retreat."

"This was a bad idea." Joshua said as he slung Jaune's arm over his shoulder and they ran as a three-legged man. The 2nd lieutenant had caught some shrapnel to the leg from a stray fragmentation grenade after they decided it'd be quickest to go straight to the riverbank.

The sniper had also taken a rifle round to the arm, but he managed. Jaune's vision was turning hazing but he figured it was fatigue after running around an enemy outpost in the desert heat. He looked down at his leg to see it spraying blood, the sand beneath their feet soaking it up like a sponge. "Oh no." Jaune muttered. "Stop. Set me down." Joshua did as ordered, letting Jaune catch his breath in the shade of a trench wall.

His breath hitched and he felt a lump shoot into his throat. Glas saw the profuse bleeding and tried to put pressure on it, removing one of the empty bandoliers he used for rifle rounds and tying it around his CO's thigh. Jaune's face grew pale, his breathing was getting shallow, "You know, I once met this priest in Vale. He said that God forgives soldiers, not commanders. You think that's true, Glas?"

Joshua humored the bleeding man, "I wouldn't know, sir."

"I think it makes sense. Officers command soldiers to fight, kill and die and the soldiers have to follow orders or they'll go to jail." Joshua tried to halt the flow of blood, but it was too late. His lieutenant would bleed out in minutes and die here. "How old are you, Corporal?"

"Sixteen, sir."

"Really? Damn, and I thought I was young for a soldier."

"There was a draft. Guess they didn't care if a few underage faunus slipped through the cracks." Joshua said.

"Where're you from?" The lieutenant asked, taking a swig from his canteen.

"Canaan." The corporal looked through his pack for bandages and morphine.

"...I hate this war, Glas."

"So do I, sir." He answered as he wiped some sweat from his forehead. "I don't wanna die yet." Glas stopped and looked him in the eye, his green orbs losing hope. With his strength ebbing away, Jaune reached under his shirt and grabbed his mother's necklace. "My mom's name is Juniper Arc. She lives in Vale and she's a widow with seven... well, I guess it'll be six children, soon enough. Find her for me." He grabbed Joshua's hand and pressed the bit of gold into it.

The marksman took a deep breath. "I will, sir. I promise." His green eyes suddenly filled with determination when he heard footsteps. It sounded like the chatter of Valean troops. He quickly ran over and flagged them down, "Hey! Hey! I've got a wounded officer over here!"

The boy's words were drowned out to Jaune as his life force drained from the holes in his leg. His head lowered as Joshua and the men approached him. He assumed the fighting had died down. If they were Valean troops, that must mean they won. "D-did we win, Glas?" He saw a head of dirty brown hair and green eyes look down on him as the men hoisted him onto a stretcher. "Yes, sir. We won."

Following the battle of Camp Luna, the rest of the day was spent gathering wounded and dead. Washington ordered all bodies accounted for, Valean and Atlesian. The few prisoners taken were treated with respect under Washington's orders.

Jaune Arc's group was soon named Fireteam Beacon since they acted as the beacon that started the attack. That battle ended up being a turning point in the Vacuo Campaign. The Valean Frontier Corps pushed through for the rest of the army and linked up with their allies on western Vacuo, where they pushed the Atlesian and Mistrali forces back.

Lieutenant Jaune Arc passed away shortly after the success of his mission. He, Yury Ivanovich and Aiden Walker were given Silver Stars and Purple Hearts and promoted to First Lieutenant, Sergeant First Class and Staff Sergeant, respectfully. Joshua Glass was honorably discharged due to injuries following a promotion to Specialist and being awarded with the Bronze Star and Purple Heart. He wore them with pride.

Following the end of The War and the peace King David of Vale brought, Joshua Glas was approached with an offer to teach marksmanship at Vale's huntsman academy, Beacon. He took it, met another teacher and married her. He lived a long life, saw his child grow up, grandchildren and great grandchildren grow.

Sixty three years after the end of the Great War, an older Joshua Glas sat in a rocking chair on the porch of his family's house in Menagerie. In his arms, swaddled in an old brown jacket was a little baby boy, his green eyes looked up at his wrinkled face. His granddaughter, Donn, told him that her son looked just like him. The old man held Ezekiel Glas in his arms and told him a story of how the huntsman academy of Beacon got its name.

First Lieutenant Jaune Arc's body was brought back to Vale. It was a few dozen kilometers outside the capital when the convoy escorting the cartful of bodies was attacked by Grimm. They got away with few casualties, but by a stroke of bad fortune. A body was knocked off the wagon and fell to the side of the road.

As it fell, it was shaken loose from its wrappings and settled in a divot between some trees. His effects, including his weapons, had been wrapped up with him. Most had fallen off at random as the body fell, but the weapons stayed, as if glued into their holsters and sheath.

The body remained there to this day, eighty years later.

Alright, new story's up! I realize I've done a slow job of updating the other stories, but I've got a few other unpublished pieces I'll release soon, so look out!

-Fireballmonkey