Fort Beacon

07:21 hours

General Ozpin glares at the pile of papers and reports on his desk, detailing the last month of conflicts between Human Kingdoms Coalition border patrols and the increasingly aggressive United Faunus Federation forces; federation snipers locking down roads, minor skirmishes in border territories, major troop movements including mechanized infantry and dozens of attack helicopters, increase in faunus mining and production activity, the list goes on. When he first joined the Vale Armed Forces 29 years ago, Remnant had always been a world of peace, an environment inappropriate for men and women of his occupation. Soon after, he was thrown onto the battlefields of the First Human-Faunus War, and it completely changed how he viewed his once optimistic world. Now that the men and women of Fort Beacon, the base that he commands, are about to follow in his footsteps, he wishes he could be anywhere else.

"Anything else, General?" Ozpin asks the middle aged blonde sitting in a desk on the other side of her room as he leans back to stretch and rubs his eyes.

"No, that's all of the reports from the borders for today," Lieutenant General Glynda Goodwitch replies. "I'm sure there's going to be even more coming in by the end of the week."

"Of course," Ozpin says. He leans back forwards and picks up a random report. A VAF C-130 Hercules was shot down four days ago by a surface to air missile while on a supply run from one border country to another. No survivors. Ozpin sighs heavily.

"Of all the times for the world to go to war," he says, mostly to himself. "It had to be now."

"At least it's for a good cause," Glynda reassures. "The Feds have been breaking the armistice for nearly as long as its been around. Hopefully this war will put an end to the violence. God knows the border countries could use some peace, at least long enough for all their liquid dust to be drilled so they'd be left alone." Ozpin chuckles.

"It's funny how we're already calling it a war, as if our fate is sealed to fight in something that doesn't even exist yet."

"Unless you have faith in the politicians to turn this around, our fate basically is sealed." Ozpin can't help but silently agree. The phone on his desk buzzes.

"General Ozpin," his secretary outside says. "General Ironwood is here to see you."

"Ironwood is here?" Glynda asks suddenly.

"Send him in," Ozpin says into the phone, then turns to Glynda. "That would explain the sudden influx of troop movements earlier today." Glynda rolls her eyes. Ironwood has made it a habit to surround himself with his brigades of mechanized infantry and air support wherever he goes. The door opens, and a broad shouldered, well built giant of a man, with greying jet black crew cut hair and an impressive scar over his left eye.

"Ozpin!" Ironwood greets, smiling. Ozpin stands up and shakes the man's hand.

"Good to see you again, General," he says. "It's been too long."

"Please, please, it's James," Ironwood says. "No need for formalities between officers."

"Of course," Ozpin gestures to Glynda, who has been standing with her arms crossed since Ironwood entered. "I'm sure you remember Glynda."

"Couldn't forget," Ironwood says, extending his hand to the woman, who accepts it, then returns her hand to its previous location. "Enjoying the General's company?"

"Well enough," she replies coldly. Ozpin walks back behind his desk and pours a second cup of coffee.

"So, what brings you all the way to Fort Beacon?" he asks, handing Ironwood the cup. "I never received any notification of your arrival."

"That would be because this meeting isn't exactly...over the table," Ironwood says, sipping his coffee.

"Go on," Ozpin says slowly.

"Actually, as far as the rest of the world knows, I'm in the capital right now, overseeing Paladin construction. I don't want any Federation sleeper agents knowing anything about this."

"What's so important that you would go to me first?" Ozpin asks, watching his mug as he swirls the brown liquid.

"I want your troops to be the first testers of Project AURA." Ozpin quickly looks up.

"You have funding?" he asks.

"Parliament is scared. They're willing to fund just about anything at this point."

"Back up a few steps," Glynda says. "What's Project AURA?"

"Advanced Utilization and Repairable Armor," Ozpin answers. "Essentially a high tech combat suit that can repair itself. James has been preaching the idea since we were grunts."

"It's much more than just a 'combat suit'," Ironwood says. "It is a series of spaced and reactive body armor, linked together by a jointed metal skeleton. A battery pack is located on the back of the suit which powers electromagnetic waves in the suit."

"So how is that any more effective than the body armor we already have?" Glynda asks. "Sounds like an overly expensive toy so far."

"Understandable, but I was about to set to that part," Ironwood says. "Let's say someone wearing an AURA suit is struck by a bullet square in the chest. The outer layer of armor is designed to fold inside itself, the space inside breaking the initial momentum of the bullet. The inner layers then break apart the bullet, dividing the force of the bullet at different angles, effectively stopping the projectile without harm to the user."

"Now here's the fun part: The electromagnetic waves are heavily modified for the suit's use, and can react with the armor itself. It travels to the damaged portion of the suit, bends the armor back into place, and slightly burns the pieces together, similar to welding. My suits have already been tested to withstand up to 500 rounds of rifle ammunition and enough fragments from grenades, mines, and artillery shells to collectively level half of this base before the battery dies. All I need now is some testing in the field. Which is where you come in, Ozpin."

"I do, do I?" Ozpin says.

"Just give me the names of twenty of your best soldiers, and the suits will be here by tomorrow morning." Ozpin sets his coffee down.

"James, as much as I would like to help out an old friend, I already have my hands tied behind my back readying to relocate the entire fort to a border country for war. I honestly couldn't handle having to keep track of a special forces unit on top of fighting the Feds. Why not ask a more battle savvy General?"

"I don't trust those buffoons with AURA. They'll dump them on the front lines and get them handed over to the Federation a week into the war. I know you'll handle them carefully." Ozpin looks to Glynda, who shrugs. "Come on, Oz. If I get a few months of testing with the suits I already have, they can go into mass production and this war can be over before the Federation could get all four wheels spinning." Ozpin thinks it over for a moment, then says,

"If I do it, I'll need something in return."

"Of course, name it."

"I need authorization from Parliament to initiate my Hunter Program." Ironwood immediately sighs and covers his eyes. Ozpin smiles. He could've put money on him reacting like that.

"You're still pushing for that college thesis?" Ironwood asks, sarcasm ripe in his tone.

"As if AURA is anymore unreasonable."

"The difference is that I have AURA in physical form, with proof that it is applicable. The Hunter Program is nothing more than a theory, not even a very good one. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you want to create special forces teams, each comprised of only four soldiers each, and make them train together, isolated from any other groups. We already have special forces, Ozpin, we don't need anymore."

"It's not about the physical advantage of the soldiers, it's about the mental," Ozpin argues. "A bio report is conducted on each soldier, complete with their combat history, personality, traits, former employments, attitudes, indictments, list of friends in the military, everything. One of the stronger soldiers is selected as a team leader, and three more soldiers are selected based on how linear their reports are with the team leader. They are already guaranteed to work well together because of the bio reports."

"Each team member fills a role in the unit; sniper, assault, stealth, and demolition; each with their unique, handpicked equipment and weapons. They take four weeks of advanced training and courses, all as a unit. By the time they enter the battlefield, they are already comfortable with working together. They retain their original ranks, but are not put above one another; team leader has senior command, but other than that they are equal."

"That's what makes Hunters different from other SF grunts. They are not merely comrades in arms, they're a small family. They have the same pasts, the same ambitions, the same goals in life as well as the military. They will work hand in hand to protect not just their kingdom, but their family as well. They are mentally equipped to fight for the soldiers around them because they care for them so greatly, more so than typical battle buddies." Ironwood takes a long slurp of his coffee.

"Still sounds like a waste of resources," he criticizes.

"It's several times cheaper than Project AURA. That's my price, take it or go to one of your 'buffoon' friends." Ironwood takes a deep breathe and hands Ozpin his mug, who sets it on his desk.

"Alright, I'll convince Parliament. They really want Project AURA to succeed, so it shouldn't be a problem."

"I'm sure it won't," Ozpin smirks. He knows James hates being shown up by him.

"The suits will be here by tomorrow, you should get your first Hunter teams organized by the end of the week."

"I'll keep it in mind," Ozpin says. Ironwood leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

"He hasn't changed at all," Glynda says.

"Never has. Pass word to the captains in the base, we're starting the bio reports tonight."