Edited as of (7/6/18)

PB: Da-Awesom-One

AN OFFER

-Joel Ambrose-

"Apologies, sir, but we still haven't found any trace of them on our end. They're not in any of the surrounding inns. Lieutenant Pips is growing anxious regarding the delay, but we've tried..." the ensign trailed off at my weary nod, snapping off another unnecessary salute as I turned around to face him.

'Must be a new recruit. Doesn't know enough to recognize the collar, or the difference between Huntsmen and Huntsmen-in-training. Probably thinks I'm with the Specialists.'

Fully-licensed Huntsmen and Huntresses were seen by most serving in the militaries of Remnant as heroes, or at least figures worthy of a certain level of respect, due in no small part to their abilities. By most, anyway.

Being the leader of the team assigned to this mission by Ozpin himself technically put me just below Lieutenant Pips and the Atlesian Huntsmen in the command chain, though I'd made sure to defer to the military presence as much as I could since meeting them the night before. No use riling this up into some useless pissing contest, after all, seeing as both he and Commander Altrosa seemed to have an understanding in place.

"Shut up and do your job while I do mine, criminal!" Those had been the first and only words I'd heard the man say in regards to me the night before, preferring to keep his comments for the "true Huntsmen," in his own words, or the Doctor, while ignoring mine and the rest of AMBR's presence almost entirely.

"Understood. Alert me if you find a trace, and let the Lieutenant know he has my deepest apologies," I told him, waving it off with sigh as I heard a discomforting growl issue from behind me. "They're late, Max. We can't afford to hold things up any longer than we already have, without at least..."

"At least what? Don't wanna piss off Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass over there?" She cocked her head to where the large, thin-faced man stood in regulation Atlesian armor, minus the helmet, clapping a hand to his close-shaven scalp in frustration as he mouthed off to the pink-haired Commander over some breach of etiquette that Bill had committed, the smell alone proving that the former bandit likely hadn't slept a wink the whole night. "Pips... The hell kinda name is that? Sounds like a name for a pet or something." She grimaced sourly, before shifting her eyes back to me. "Wouldn't kill you to put your foot down on this, would it?

"Those two have had two extra hours to get back here from whatever mess they landed themselves in last night. If they were coming, they'd be here," I explained, massaging the new headache throbbing like a hammer just behind my eyes. "We've already gotten the Atlesians involved in the search, and Altrosa wants to get the Bullheads in the air and on their way before another storm hits."

"And what if we can't find them, huh!? We just say 'screw it,' and leave!?"

"Doubtful. If it comes to that, though, Redgrave's still around this area, isn't he? They'll just call him up, and meet up with us at the next stop whenever Ben finishes his little tantrum. By her blood, to think he'd screw us like this, and drag Reika along with him..."

Bill had made it clear back when we first noticed the pair missing that it had been very likely his fault. He and his son seemed to have had some sort of argument the night before that had ended with the rogue storming off, with Reika trailing close behind to watch his back and keep him out of trouble. The Specialists hadn't exactly been thrilled with the idea of two teens with sensitive information ducking out for a bit of night crawling, while Pips himself had almost seemed ready to bust a blood vessel, practically tearing the town apart in the search, but had so far come up with nothing.

"They'll be fine."

The Canine Faunus, however, didn't seem convinced, biting her lip in an effort to stop a retort most likely, settling for a deep breath, and a swift kick that dented one of the crates littering the loading dock. "...This isn't like him, you know. I mean, Carson can be an ass, sure, but even if he was pissed, he wouldn't drag us into it like this. He's got some pride."

I could only shrug at that, motioning for her to follow as we made our way towards the front of the train, catching sight of Faraday hauling a heavy-looking metallic briefcase with her onto the platform while flanked by two guards,

'Must be her prototype...' I thought, watching her hand it off to the pair of Specialists assigned to the train alongside the older Carson, the nervous-looking duo lifting the object gingerly between them, carrying it towards the central passenger car.

"I don't like this... Something about all this just... stinks." As if I didn't agree with the girl entirely on the issue myself, both as the leader of this team and as a friend.

'Sadly...' I thought, pulling myself up into the train, helping her clamber aboard after me, 'it's not as if I have much choice in the matter.'

"Master Huntsman!" Max and I spun around, probably faster and more aggressively than the sandy-haired Faunus in a civilian train staff uniform before us had been expecting, if his sudden back step was any judge. "S-sir," he stammered quickly, snapping off an awkward salute he was obviously unfamiliar with.

'Following the example of the soldiers, then, rather than being one himself.'

"There's no need for that, or this 'Sir' business. And I'm no 'Master' Huntsman, so let's cut that out," I tried to reassure the Faunus man, somewhat relieved to see his salute shift into an awkward sweep through his hair that grazed the tabby-colored pair of cat ears peeking through his hair. "You guys are the ones running the train, after all. If anything, I should be saluting you."

I thought I heard the ghost of a groan from Maxine, and cringed a bit myself. Must've been more desperate to ditch the formalities than I thought, especially from a man at least a good way into his twenties, judging by the small lines on his face.

"I won't deny you the opportunity if you really want to, though I doubt the Lieutenant will be pleased. Racist prick..." His face paled as he looked to both of us desperately, color flooding back in relief when he saw the small grins on our faces. "Well, it's the truth. He won't even have his men speak to me, or any of the other Faunus on board! Prefers to make one of the Huntsman do it instead if he absolutely has to, and can get it past the Commander anyway."

Max chuckled evilly under her breath. "Geez, like I needed another reason to hate that bastard. Was wondering why he didn't seem too keen on looking at me when we showed up."

"Yeah. Not the nicest guy, but the rest of them are alright, for the most part, as are the other Humans that work aboard. They won't stare or spit at you when your back is turned... At least not to your face, at any rate." He raised his arms to his sides, with a sober grin. "Now, do I have it right in guessing that you two are members of Team AMBR?"

I nodded, pointing to myself then Max. "Yep. Joel Ambrose, AMBR's leader. This is my partner, Maxine Argus."

"Just Max," the Faunus added with a lazy wave. "You got a reason for being here that involves us being with AMBR, or is this just the complimentary greeting from the company?"

I was about apologize for her less-than-stellar manners, but the Cat Faunus just laughed, an apologetic look on his face as he held out a friendly hand. "Actually, yes. I never did introduce myself. Samuel Bastet, co-conductor for this train."

"...Bastet?" I gaped, giving his hand a firm, if stunned shake, while Max shot him a similar surprised look. "Then you're...!"

"My father's name was Leon Bastet. He was a foreman for one of the SDC's mining sites," he continued, picking at his uniform nervously before working up the courage to straighten up. "A few months back, word came from the company that my father and those he'd been working with had been... killed in some sort of industrial accident. However, they wouldn't give me any more details than that." I had to bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from snarling at that. Hell, Max wasn't even trying to hide it.

'Leave it to Jacques Schnee to chalk all that up to some accident, burying the lives lost there...'

"I don't care what you might've heard, but that's a load of shit!" Max growled, her hand lying flat against her skull as she sat down in one of the seats lining the cabin.

"Regardless, I didn't know what to think at the time, or how to feel, given our less-than-stellar relationship over the last few years since my mother passed away..." Samuel shook his head, amber eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms. "But then, a few days later, I get a call from some kid named Carson. Says he's a Huntsman-in-training up at Beacon, and that he has news regarding my father... That he was killed by Grimm."

'So Ben did manage to get in contact with the son, after all. Could've told us...'

"I heard what he had to say. How he and the rest of Team AMBR found that my father died trying to wipe out some sort of shadow monsters that fed on people's minds like leeches with a jury-rigged bomb... Frankly, with how outlandish the story was, I thought it was all some cruel joke at first. Not sure I still believe half of what he told me. Especially about Dad." He took a deep intake of breath, and gazed at us both pleadingly. "I volunteered for this ride personally after I saw Huntsman William Carson's name on the passenger manifest Atlas provided. When he confirmed what I suspected, he mentioned that he was bringing aboard a team..."

"And you hoped it might be us," I finished for him, the Faunus nodding solemnly.

"Guess I got lucky, huh? I just... I only wanted to ask you guys who were there, and hear it from you face-to-face... A-about how he...?"

His face fell as I shared a look with Max, then shook my head. "I'm... I'm sorry. I really am, but neither of us is really going to be able to help you much. It was Ben who found the body, and if he hadn't pulled a disappearing act on us, I'd have had him here right now for you, but..."

Disappointment, anger, and regret. All of it flashed across the Faunus man's face as he lowered his head, leaning against one of the walls. I moved quickly to clarify, trying to keep my voice leveled as I thought back to that hellhole... and the dead girl's laughter...

"Personally, though, I can say that while I never met Leon Bastet, I sorely wish I had. Anyone who could've endured against those things for as long as he did would have needed a will like iron. His actions had a direct hand in saving my life, and the lives of my teammates, as well as allowing us to stop those Grimm, and keep them from hurting anyone else ever again. He was a hero in the end..."

"...The old man was always stubborn," the conductor muttered weakly, wiping at his eyes preemptively as he looked at me gratefully. "He would've been honored to receive that kind of praise, especially from the folks at Beacon. It means a lot... Truly."

"I know this might not mean much, or be any sort of comfort, but..." my partner spoke up from behind me, rubbing at her arm awkwardly. "Those things... Reavers, or whatever our teachers back at the school were calling them... They try to trick you with things that mean something to you. Stuff your mind dwells on. Ben told me about your dad. And by the sound of it... um, he was thinking of you. But I think it did the opposite of what they wanted. It kept him from... Forget it." She shut her mouth, fidgeting in her seat as she turned to the window while we looked on, my eyebrow raised, while Bastet's...

"...Thank you, Miss Argus... Er, Max," he corrected himself at a glare from her. "That means a lot. More than you know. If... If Mr. Carson does turn up, please let him know I'd like to talk to him. To thank him." He gave one last bow of the head before striding from the cabin. "You two just relax, and enjoy the trip."

"...Wasn't expecting that." I fell back into the seat across from my teammate, sliding a hand down my face, suddenly feeling out of breath. "I almost can't believe it." It didn't exactly call back great memories. I could almost hear the specter's voice again, taunting me for the first time in weeks. "Still, you did a good thing telling him that. I think it really helped him."

"Ben should've been here for that," she muttered, glancing out at the station and the city beyond. "Asshole... The hell is... What the hell's going on there!?"

I frowned as I began to hear it too. Loud shouts began to echo along the length of the station from some of the shoulders, the sounds of engines revving in the distance. We felt a shudder as the train buckled sharply.

'They've started powering up the engines? But no one mentioned...!'

Realization dawned on me as I raced to join a confused-looking Max at the doorway to the compartment, eyes catching sight of a heavy dust cloud, before a convoy of vehicles crashed onto the scene through the Atlesian's roadblock that had encircled the station. What emerged was a pair of large transport trucks with canvas-covered beds, and a quartet of small land rovers equipped with...

"Get down!"

I'd already dragged Maxine to the hard cabin floor with me, and not a second too soon as the men manning heavy-caliber machine guns affixed to the rover's backs opened up on the train, filling the space the Faunus girl had occupied with Dust-tipped lead shells that ripped through the car above our heads, playing hell with my hearing. There was no telling what it did to the Dog girl's. From what I could make out, we weren't the only targets either. The soldiers on the platform that weren't already on the ground, dead or wounded, were scrambling for cover.

"Shove off, moron!" I gave a start as the girl pushed me off roughly, managing to unhook her axe from the awkward position on her back, and split it into its ranged form, a gun in each hand. Before I could voice a warning, she'd already clambered her way to the door, sticking a hand out, and unloading on the closest vehicle. Her attack managed to send the man manning the turret scrambling off for cover with a startled yelp as bullets dented his blast shield. "They're offloading people!... Shit, more fighters!"

It was true, I learned, picking myself up from the floor with Circuit in hand, extending it. I peered up through a shattered window pane to see men in rough-spun, dull civilian wear - supplemented by the occasional pieces of body armor - clambering from the beds of the trucks already seeking cover, and unloading bursts of suppressing fire on what resistance the Atlas forces had managed to put up. Some even had explosives, judging from the booms I heard further down the line.

'Bandits!?' Whoever they were, they were definitely aware of the train's imminent departure, a large individual splitting off from the main group to rush the train while their fellows provided cover, running right towards us. 'Bad luck for them!'

The two of us were on our feet now. One look and a nod was all it required for the girl to dart across to the other side of the entrance, and stop the would-be raiders in their tracks with a cone of oncoming fire aimed towards their feet. For a moment, I thought I saw her falter, her face a curious mix of disgust and open glee as some of her bullets tore through the men's weaker Auras, and tore apart flesh in a chorus of screams.

No time to dwell about that now, unfortunately. Those that were still standing were already moving to fire back on the exposed Huntress, but faltered as a thin silver knife struck the lead gunman in the shoulder, throwing off his aim wildly before he dropped to the ground, twitching as the weapon sparked blue. His body was soon joined by two others who hadn't managed to duck behind crates fast enough.

"Max, by the car!... MAX!"

The Canine Faunus seemed to come back to herself, catching sight of the man she'd sent scrambling before trying to mount his turret yet again, his eyes fixed on the two of us hatefully behind a dark-colored handkerchief. She brought one of her guns up to track, finger poised on the trigger.

Before she could even flinch, though, what looked like a streak of fiery light burned past her, and struck the side of the car, burning through the frame like a scalpel, until it met the gas tank, sending the vehicle, and its unfortunate occupants, skyward in a blaze of white hot smoke and wreckage.

Commander Altrosa strode through the battlefield with all the calm ease of one weaving his way through a formal dance, head and limbs twitching or shifting to avoid oncoming fire, while he held out his gloved hand in a gun-like shape glowing a pinkish crimson, prongs of Dust curving outward on both sides of his hand to form a flickering short bow.

Even as we watched, he brought his other hand to the bow, glasses wrapped around his pinky and ring finger casually, and drew back, pulling a bar of white hot energy with him, before shooting it off like an arrow towards a soon-to-be dead combatant that had exposed themselves to try and attack him. All this happened while he was still shouting orders to those around him in a clipped cadence. Only a slight edge in his voice showed that he was actually in combat.

Another one of his fellows, Slater, charged forward with forearms covered in strange, dark-colored gauntlets. Bullets pinged off of his Aura like spit wads from the desperate fighters, the large, dark-skinned man driving a mailed fist into the side of the other turret car to similarly no effect for a moment, at least until the pile bunker shot forward as his gauntlets pushed the vehicle back, albeit now in two separate shredded pieces, in a way similar, if not as focused as Reika's Strike Lotus.

"Get the package and the doctor out of here!" Dorian called back towards the train, a good number of the Altlesians breaking off to board, a stunned, blood-covered Faraday in hand, while the Specialists acted as a distraction. "We'll rendezvous by air at the assigned point!"

"Awesome..." Max gaped, and I had no real reason to disagree. The Atlesians may have been taken by surprise, and sustained heavy losses as a result, but even they were starting to rally at the sight of the Huntsmen among them, renewed battle cries and cracks of gunfire sounding all over the platform. "Shouldn't we...?"

"No," I answered, stopping her when she tried to disembark and join the fight, gesturing to the train which was now vibrating beneath our feet. "We have our job, and they have theirs. We'll just get in the way."

She wasn't happy about it, especially since I could see more dust clouds in the distance, which could have been more Atlas troops returning in response to the shootout, or, for all I knew, an entire battalion of enemies, with perhaps something worse up their sleeve. But the logic stood, and even Max had to accept it.

Slater and Altrosa moved as one with obvious familiarity, which spoke of years fighting alongside the other, the larger man taking and drawing fire, dealing with soft targets while the archer picked crucial targets off with methodical accuracy.

'Sad truth is they don't need our help,' I lamented as the train began to pull away, the attacker's shouts of surprise and alarm quickly cut off by distance, and the roar of the engines. It was a heavy reminder of how far we still had to go. How, even with everything the Red Hand had taught me about taking down their kind, I was little more than a scoundrel thug, relying on cheap tactics and the element of surprise to win. 'No honor...'

"We should find Bill. He'll let us know what we can do," I said after Spire Point had finally disappeared from sight, and the wind and sand forced us to close the cabin door. "You alright?"

The Faunus seemed ruffled, though by luck or Aura she was unharmed, at least physically. She was still breathing a bit hard, though, and the grip on her weapons... "Should've known this wouldn't be easy!" she spat under her breath, roughing her way past me as she stormed down the bullet-riddled train car, kicking at ragged debris and shattered glass. "When the fuck is it ever!? Shit luck. Shit mission. Shit, shit, SHIT!"

If only I could have given her an answer. Problem was, though, she was only voicing what I was too prideful, or too stubborn to admit openly.

-Reika Murasaki-

...Awareness came flooding back in a sea of aching pain and dull incessant light... My eyes fluttered open weakly to the sound of whispered conversation, and a strange, muffled whistling tune just in front of me...

'What the...?' I pulled at my arms, finding them bound to the arms of a steel-wrought chair sitting in the center of a large, dimly-lit space. My mask was still thankfully in place. 'Right... The Red Hand, and that girl... I was knocked out, and...'

Keeping my head low, I peered up through the curtain of dark hair hanging in front of my face to get a better idea of the room, noticing a few decaying wooden crates, a battered metal table littered with tools, and what seemed to be weapon parts. Two armed men in dark, military-style body armor stood talking at what seemed to be the entrance to the room, while the source of the whistling...

"We sustained heavy losses, but the distraction worked. All targets are currently on the train and mobile. Strike teams are on route, and are expected to intercept somewhere along what the locals call the 'Breaking Back Ridge,'" the operative at the door muttered just low enough to be heard over the whistling, but not enough to be considered shouting.

He glanced at the masked figure sitting in a chair directly across from me, right leg crossed over his left one, with a saber balanced parallel over the right calf, with the guard hanging off the corner, keeping it in place as he ran a steady gloved hand down the keen edge of the blade, scraping it to a fine sharpness with a whetstone.

That was one hand, though. The other one, however, was uncovered, revealing a hand covered in scars and harsh burns. It ran along the pages of an open book that sat on a stool next to him. What was strange was that he wasn't even looking at the book, or at anything in particular.

I suddenly realized it with a start. 'He's blind... The Trapper's blind!'

"They'll be ready in case those two can't get aboard." He kept going, motioning to his partner. "Are we certain we can be so...?"

"They'll be aboard, don't worry about that," his companion said briskly, glancing back at the Trapper nervously before gesturing for the other to follow him out of the room, shutting the heavy metal door behind them with a loud clang, leaving me alone with the kidnapper.

'Where am I?... Need to understand my surroundings...' I focused on gathering as much information as I could, and wait for help. '...If help is even coming... If I'm here, then Ben just might be... NO! I can'tthink like that!'

I'd gathered as much as I could from sight alone, closing my eyes, and letting my Aura build slowly. My Semblance reached outwards from the room. Beyond myself and the Trapper, there were maybe two dozen more Aura signatures moving about above us, which either meant I was in a storied building, or that I was somewhere underground in some kind of basement.

With only minor effort, I expanded the search and found... nothing? Wherever we were, it was remote. Very remote. The only other signs of life were a few choked out plants and small insects.

It was while I was dwelling on this fact that I realized how quiet the room had become. I saw that the Trapper had ceased both his tune and his work, and was now staring directly at me, or at least his face plate was turned towards my direction.

"...What was that you did just now?"

I stiffened at the muffled voice, eyes glued on the floor as the breath caught in my throat. 'No... There's no way!'

I breathed in lightly, letting my heart rate get back under control as I summoned my Aura and reached out again, searching on an even wider radius, trying desperately to find any sign of life.

"Yes, that right there. Don't bother pretending to be asleep. I can tell your breathing's unsteady."

I looked up, trying and failing to keep the cold chill from running up my spine. 'He can sense my Semblance!? How can he...!?'

"Ah, right!" The man clapped his uncovered hand against his helmeted head. "You can't speak, can you, Miss Murasaki?"

I glared at him defiantly, but internally my mind was racing. '...He knows my name!? He knows I can't speak!?'

If this had been a random-by-chance abduction, that would be impossible... Which meant that they...!

"Yes, yes, we know who you are. Might as well clear that up for you now." The Trapper leaned back, putting his sword aside and closing his book. "How can we not? You and your trigger-happy friend are on the same team as an old associate off mine, after all... Now tell me, what is that you're doing?" He cocked his head, as if expecting me to answer, probably holding out hope that whatever intel he thought he had on me was wrong, before sighing in exasperation. "Surprised, hmm? So it isn't a visible effect, then..."

He pulled his other glove from his belt, covering his hand, before tapping a forefinger against where his eyes would be.

"I'm well aware I'm blind, Miss Murasaki, but I'm certain I can see better than you can." He gestured to the table lazily. "Two spare cuffs, the barrel and disassembled scope of a disassembled Vacuan-model sniper rifle, a small kit containing fifteen different cleaning tools and solutions, as well as five loose screws. One just on the edge of the table."

I couldn't help but look over, and from where I sat, I could just make out the details of most of the objects he'd just described.

"...You don't seem convinced... Ah, I see now!... Figuratively speaking, of course. I will admit, I could have easily set that up before you had woken. How about, then, the guard leaning against the door outside, thinking he can get away with being less than alert - I was wondering why he wasn't responding - or the guard coming down the stairway now to relieve him?"

I shifted my Semblance and froze. There were two separate signatures just outside the room, and one approaching from above...! Too late, I realized I'd done just as he wanted, the man gauging my reaction somehow.

"So I was right in thinking it's some sort of sensory ability... You have this wave of energy emanating out from you every time you focus your Aura, before it returns to you a second or so later. And that one just now was smaller than those before. A Semblance that tracks Aura emissions, if not the area itself, perhaps, seeing how it bounced off myself and my people?..."

Horrified, I reared back in my chair as I felt my skin crawl with the sudden sensation of being watched. 'Whoever this man is, he could see and understand my Semblance as if he could actually see it being done!'

"...Well, I guess we have more in common than I initially thought!" he said jovially, pointing a finger towards me and then to himself. "You see, I had my physical sight taken from me in an unfortunate event years ago, but my own Semblance - ironically dubbed Vision - allows me to use my Aura as a sort of radar, reading everything that goes on around me within a given distance, though I do need to focus to make out the finer details. It seems it can also track Aura projections, to a point." He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and playing with his fingers. "You, on the other hand, seem able to detect only Aura signatures, but at a much greater difference, judging by how fast the wave issues from you before returning. Far beyond the scope of my radius, at least. We knew you had a special condition regarding your Aura, but this?... This is more than we could've hoped for..."

Suddenly, the mysterious man sat up, as if realizing something. "Ah, where are my manners!? I haven't even bothered to introduce myself!" He straightened his back and bowed his head forward to me respectfully. "My name is Virgil Jett. As you've probably guessed from the uniform, I work as a Trapper Agent of the Humanity's Hands Front, or the 'Red Hand,' as the media has taken to calling us. I am a defender of Humanity, and a slayer of the White Fang. You are one Reika Murasaki, currently acting as a Huntress-in-training at the prestigious Beacon Academy under Joel Ambrose's leadership, yes?"

Seeing as he'd more than proven that he was anything but blind, I acquiesced, nodding my head if only to satisfy him. 'I could probably break the restraints... But he's armed, and I'm not.' That was what kept me rooted in the chair submissively, trying to ignore the fact that, even if my weapons hadn't been destroyed, I probably couldn't do much, and was stuck here with this Trapper and a host of others above us.

"Now, I'm not sure what you might have heard from Joel or the media, but if it's at all possible, I'd like to have a discussion with you before making a request. All with good intentions, I assure you. I even have a peace offering. Locke, pull it up." He pulled a small circular compact Scroll, and projected a picture of what was unmistakably Ben, along with the girl we'd attempted to rescue before, haggling with someone at a Roller depot, the high-powered buggies the only vehicles capable of moving independently in the region's harsh landscape.

"Subject Ben Carson, taken exactly forty-two minutes and thirteen seconds ago in the town of Spire Point. Currently on intercept course to Vacuan Express Train #777VC, on route to Vale Kingdom Border Crossing." A low, monotone voice intoned from the Scroll, a small Red Hand symbol appearing at the corner of the picture. 'I am Trapper Liaison and Offensive Combat Intelligence, or 'Locke,' as the agents have taken to referring to me. I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

"See here? Your friend is alive and unharmed. In fact, as we speak, he's doing a job for us in an attempt to save you. The question being, however, is whether or not you'll need saving?" He could probably feel the angry death glare I shot his way physically, even if he couldn't see it. "Right, the kidnapping, yes. A fact I'm actually quite apologetic for. But it's not as if you'd come willingly, and we needed to play up that we didn't know who you two were. All part of the plan, I'm afraid, but I can see why you might be on edge."

Really? An apologetic Trapper? Oh, this was rich. Maybe he was hoping I'd forget the damage the other one had caused, or that this one had threatened an innocent girl just to draw us into a trap. 'But what was that I felt earlier?... That...?'

"And you would be right about the Red Hand, as well any impressions you may have about most of my brothers and sisters amongst the Trappers. We're quite the violent lot, I'm afraid. It comes from how we were trained." That was putting it mildly. The research I'd done on my own time had more than proven that fact, and the recent months had only confirmed it. Even Joel, despite his progress, still seemed to struggle with the peace. "I, however, wish to change that negative outlook. Where some see a monster, I see Humanity's greatest defender."

If I would have laughed if I could. I would have done it then and there, no question, simply for just how absurd he sounded, even though he was completely serious, judging by his tone and what I'd read off his Aura.

"Consider my words for a moment. We are vilified for our actions against the White Fang publicly by the Kingdoms, but a good majority secretly support our cause. Some view us as simply terrorists against all the Faunus, and I will admit that some of our number do deserve such beliefs. But I, for one, fight the White Fang simply because every moment they are active threatens the peace and safety of those in Remnant. And I know for certain that Joel believes this as well. In more ways than one, we are superior to Huntsmen and Huntresses in that regard."

He straightened up again, and I could tell that whatever vision he had was narrowed towards me. "Miss Murasaki, my mentor and I are searching for people. Capable people that place the security of all of Remnant above themselves and their own desires... Those that seek order for Mankind, and destruction for its enemies."

'...No. He can't seriously be asking me to...?'

"I'm sure you likely think I'm jesting, but I can assure you that I'm not. I've never treated these opportunities lightly. Miss Murasaki... I am asking you to join us. Lend us your strength, and use your unique abilities to help us forge a better world."

He sounded so... convicted. And what was worse was that I wanted to believe him. If what Virgil said was true, and the Trappers, even a small fraction, could be convinced to give up their vendetta and help Mankind...

'A group of Huntsmen Joel's caliber, or even greater, would be incredible.'

I wanted to believe him... but I remembered the way he'd hurt that girl, and the way Capaneus had hurt Yang and Joel, along with all of those other innocent people. I focused my Semblance on him completely, reading his Aura like an open book. There was pride and conviction, yes, and plenty of it. It was almost like looking at Joel... But while my teammate's Aura burned with a sort of righteous fire, this was just cold, dark and hateful, threatening to consume everything.

I had my answer... With a burst of Aura, I tore through the clasps binding my right arm, pulling my mask away, and spitting at his feet, even as I reached out for the maximum range my Sense could reach, just barely managing to detect Ben only a few miles away traveling past us, along with...

"...!"

My eyes widened in horror, just as I felt a rough hand grab at my hair from behind me, pulling back with a painful yank and a flash of steel before my head flopped forward, feeling strangely lighter. I looked over my shoulder, and realized that Virgil had somehow managed to get behind me from his seat, saber in hand in an instant. His free hand was clutching what I now realized was a fistful of hair, his Aura burning with a rage I'd never thought possible, let alone felt in another living being. I felt for my scalp, discovering that my hair was uneven, reaching at most to my shoulders. I would have responded, bent the steel chair like clay if not for the blade now kissing my throat, the edge just grazing against my Aura.

"Literally spitting on my offer... I'll admit, that is a new one I haven't encountered before," he growled, a grey-colored Aura building across his body as he kicked the chair, and me, across the room with a loud and very painful crash against the table. It freed me from the chair, the whole thing in pieces after that blow. But before I could even think of fighting back, he was there again, crouched above me, using his sword to tilt up my chin.

"Now, sit still, or I will remove something that won't grow back." The blade flashed wickedly in the dim light. "Now let me rephrase the offer into something clearer for you..." he threatened, voice cold and full of malice, now distorted by his mask's filters. "Your friend Carson is on borrowed time, and would already be dead if his services, skills, and position as that coward's teammate weren't required, so don't hold your hopes up for him, or anyone else coming to rescue you. That leaves you with two easy options to consider." He held two fingers off the sword hilt, making sure they were in my line of sight. "You either take my very generous offer, and use your impressively large pool of Aura and your Semblance to hold an impressive position in what we are trying to build, or you can continue to be petulant, have no rank, and a lot of pain."

The sword disappeared into the sheath on his back faster than I could comprehend, the man already turning on his heel to leave the room, leaving me sitting in a pile of scattered tools and hair.

"Either way, your services will be required..."

-Benjamin Carson-

"You're sure about this!? I mean you do know what you're doing, right!?" Sienna shouted from her perch in the back, over the roar of the roller's engine. "How could you possibly know...!?"

"I can almost guarantee that the cargo we're after's in the central car!" I called back, swerving to avoid a nasty bump in the cracked and dry surface of land we followed, the telltale whistle of a Dust train off in the distance. "Easiest place to defend it in case of an attack, and harder to escape for the ones doin' the thievin'! As in us!"

It felt strange. A day ago, I would never have dreamed of being back in this position again. I still didn't. At least Sienna had proven herself to be more than capable in assisting me from procuring last minute supplies, as well as navigating from the back.

'Weird havin' a partner that can actually talk back to ya, too... Better not to get used to it.' As much as it pained me to admit it, pretty or no, I'd grown used to the silence. 'Which means the only one bein' negative most of the time was me.'

The redhead was certainly motivated, hardly eating or resting since I'd met her, though I supposed that was only to be expected with her sister on the line. Not like I'd do any less for Reika. At the moment, she wore a thrown-together outfit, similar to my usual attire, goggles over her green eyes, and her face wrapped tightly with a violet-colored scarf to ward off the dust and the sun.

"So how do we get to it!?"

"With just the two of us, the easiest method would be for one to focus on breakin' in and securin' the cargo, while the other clears a path of escape! It's dangerous, but it's the fastest and simplest method there is!"

I neglected to mention the fact that my two remaining teammates - two very dangerous people in their own right - along with my father would likely do their best to repel us if we encountered them, but it was my hope that it would not have to come to that. The plan made yesterday had them sticking close to Dad and Poops, while a pair of Altrosa's Specialists handled the package. But of course, that had been when there were four of us on the train, rather than just two.

'Max, please just stick to the front. Please!' Not that I really much cared to run into the Human Bug Zapper or the Hangman himself, but the thought of having to fight the Dog girl was just too painful to consider. 'At least with them, I MIGHT have a chance of bein' able to talk my way out of a fight. If the Atlesians catch me, however...' A cold shiver ran down my spine, and my palms itched irritably. 'Wow. Been a while since that happened.'

I prided myself on being prepared and able to think my way out of trouble if the need arose. The problem was that Huntsmen tended to make things a bit unpredictable. As much as it worried me, however, I couldn't back down now, or I'd be gambling with Reika's life. Hopefully, if push came to shove, the others would understand.

"We're gonna approach it by usin' both the dust the train throws up and the storm as a cover!"

My first idea - and, in retrospect, not my smartest - had been to avoid this whole run around, and just walk onto the train with the redhead cleverly disguised as Reika herself. We were new additions to the escort, so all the average soldier would have to go off of was maybe a picture, and a few key features. Seeing as the Huntress had most of her face behind her mask, anyway, all we had to do was find decent props, a good wig, and avoid the rest of AMBR or anyone else that had seen her.

'Might've even been able to convince them to help, even if they did find out.'

Of course, the whole thing had been derailed - pun not intended - by the train leaving without us completely against protocol due to some incident at the station. The Law Keepers hadn't been very forthcoming about the details when we'd met them at the roadblock they'd established. My personal guess, the bastards thought we'd try and make a run for it, or thought we'd screw up and wanted to make a go of it.

'Makes it more difficult, but not impossible. Just have to do this the old fashioned way...'

I hated the old fashioned way...

What worried me most was the lack of flyers. Supposedly, we should've had at least three, if not more Bullheads hovering at different points of the train. Currently, I could only make out one, which was having more than enough trouble keeping itself in the air inside this storm rather than be bothered looking for oncoming threats.

'What happened to the others?'

"Sounds good! I'll get us an escape route!" I turned in my seat, my companion starring at the ever-approaching dot of the train on the horizon with an air of confidence that was almost infectious. It was strange, being around the woman. I discovered, as I spent more time with her, that her personality was infectious. She'd have made a damn good public speaker or salesperson if she hadn't chosen a career as a Huntress.

'Frankly, I think she might've missed her calling.' Which was also my issue. I had no idea, aside from an encounter with a godsdamned Trapper, on how she'd handle herself in a fight, let alone against what was almost certainly a good portion of Atlesian soldiers. It'd be almost impossible for me. Hell, even Reika, the muscle between the two of us, would've had trouble on her own...

"I can do this, Ben! I know I might not look like it, but I can give as good as I get!" She raised her arms, showing off the thick grey bracers that encased both forearms, a red, blue, and yellow light showing on the bottom of each. "Trust me!"

And I did. Something about the way she smiled, the way she spoke, just sang to me.

"A-alright! Make sure you do, 'cause we're both screwed if the other messes up!" I pointed out, at least wanting her to know the level of risk here. Dad usually went with at least a dozen trained bandits most of the time. Even more for something like this, and there was a damn good reason for it.

"I understand!..." the Huntress-in-training nodded, betraying only a slight waver of fear at the prospect, gripping the cage of the buggy, before speaking up again. "Thank you Ben. For this. For your help. I know this sounds horrible, but I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't shown up..."

"Hey! You keep all that mushy stuff in for after we save Reika and your sister, alright?" I reached up behind me, clasping one of her hands gently in a mechanical grip she thankfully didn't flinch away from. "We've got this!"

"We've got this!" she agreed, wiping at her eyes quickly, before looking on ahead. "Train up ahead!"

Within minutes, we were alongside the massive machine chugging along, using the copious amount of dust in its wake, along with a lucky sandstorm that kept the guards inside, to work our way up, until we were just behind the last car.

"Good luck, and be safe!" She leapt off in a burst of Aura that seemed to shift color the longer you watched it.

'Damn. Even her Aura's gorgeous...' I found myself thinking, before shaking my head out, slowing down just in case she missed her jump, but relieved to see it hadn't been necessary. The girl gave me one last wave, before slipping swiftly into the car with short deft movements. 'Least she wasn't lyin' about the training. Alright... Now it's time for my part.'

Pushing the little rover as fast as it was able - probably faster - I brought it alongside the center of the train, a thin walkway bordered by a wrought iron railing rattling between the cars.

"Been a while since I tried this...!" I murmured under my breath as I took an old brick from the seat next to me, grabbing up my ruck sack as I wedged the weight onto the petal, before working my way up to the side. I took a deep breath, and then leapt towards the railing.

For one heart-stopping moment, I'd thought I'd misjudged the timing, the speeding dusty wastes rushing towards me. Fortunately, I managed to grab hold of the side in a tight grip, breathing out a sigh of relief as I hauled myself up so as to sit securely in the carriage.

I got to my feet shakily, sparing one last look as the Roller hit a pothole and flipped in a cloud of dust. It was battered, but easily still drivable. 'Better be, or I'm walkin' back to Spire Point to rip that dealer a new...!?'

I'd hardly taken a step when a loud *BOOM* shook the whole train, and almost sent me tumbling over the side, with only a lucky grab between me and a grave injury at best.

"What the hell!?" I swore loudly, along with a few dozen others, ready to go help Sienna, when I realized she hadn't been the cause the smoke coming from the front of the train, but something far more sinister.

The Atlesian Bullhead playing awkward escort was now cartwheeling through the air, letting out a pitiable whine from a flaming wing as fire and emergency fans met the unforgiving roar of the elements, and a fair bit of oncoming weapons fire aside. Even as I watched, another missile raced through the dust storm, striking the broadside of the VTOL, gutting it and any unfortunate crew inside, and sent what was left careening into the ground with enough force to shake the train.

"No... No, you sons of...!" I muttered, artificial hand clenching into a bone-crushing fist that crumpled the support bar it clutched as a pair of sleek black Bullheads soared over the now-smoking train, lines descending from above as soldier after darkly-armored soldier dropped from open hatches onto the roof of the massive behemoth, each heavily armed, with the Red Hand symbol emblazoned over their hearts and on their sleeves.

They hadn't intended to let us try our way at all. They just wanted two Huntsmen for backup and a distraction, while they killed everyone else on board. I could already hear the shouting, the hastily-ordered commands as they fanned out, ready to clear this train and everyone in it.

Probably better they don't find me standing around... But first...

I looked around quickly, spotting my target immediately, a red button encased in protective glass. It was a general alert all transports of this class carried to warn its crew of attack, or ill intent. Without a second thought, I lashed out with metallic fist, punching through the glass with ease and depressing the button, setting off a series of wailing claxons as the entire train's lighting pulsed red.

I couldn't help my teammates directly, but I'd be damned if I didn't at least give them a chance to defend themselves.

'Though that still doesn't change the fact that I have a job to do... Time to get it done.'

-END

-OC Voice Cast introduced this Chapter-

Samuel Bastet - Christopher Bevins

Virgil Jett - Liam O'Brien

Locke – Jim Meskimen

A/N: So Virgil, not a nice guy as you all probably imagined. To be honest this chapter turned out a lot differently then what I'd intended, especially with Bastet's son which wasn't originally going to be brought up again but a friend of mine saw that it could work, that old cat was the real badass of that Arc, lasting for days with the wraiths while AMBR only lasted a few hours. Know this wasn't a high action chapter but don't worry, things are gonna kick off next chapter I promise. – Mojo

P.S: Props if you can tell where I picked up Virgil's line from the end there, it's another villain and it just stood out to me for some reason.