AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story arc still has two chapters left, but it's about done. Then we'll move on to "On RWBY Wings 2: Vytal Flag." This chapter gives a full order of battle of what is at JRB Beacon at this point in the story, along with kills. Pretty sure my kill count is correct. The reason why Pyrrha's and Coco's kill counts are higher is that Pyrrha's Crete kills are counted, as well as whatever Coco shot down over Iraq. (It was mentioned waaay back in Chapter 4 or so that Coco, Pyrrha and Ruby were the only aces at Beacon when Vytal Flag started. The song Nora and Yang are mentioned as singing is real! It's by the fighter pilot band Dos Gringos-"I Wish I Had a Gun Like the A-10." You can find it (and their other songs) on YouTube. Their songs are fighter pilot songs, which mean they are vulgar and ribald. Yang being asked to show her breasts is also pretty accurate for a fighter pilot gathering-I was at one in Las Vegas where a woman came in to complain about the noise, and got exactly that. Fighter jocks aren't PC, never have been, and never will be...and I imagine the female fighter pilot community is no different. Finally, the damage to Nora's A-10? Based on a combination of several true stories. My uncle served in Battle Damage Repair during Desert Storm, and he worked on an A-10 that came home with about that damage. Also worth looking up is the story of Kim "Killer Chick" Campbell, who brought home an A-10 in 2003 that was about in the same shape as Magnhild. As always, thanks for reading!
Building 111713 (Officers' Club)
Joint Base Beacon, Wisconsin, United States of Canada
4 May 2001
The sun had set on Joint Base Beacon, but the party was just getting started at the officers' club. The new aces were held aloft on the pilots' shoulders and paraded around, with much beer being thrown on them. Yang screamed in delight and took a drag on a full bottle of champagne, then poured half over Weiss' head, who screamed for other reasons. Across the club, Ren took a pull from his beer, unusually ebullient, Nora's head scraping the ceiling as she rode on his shoulders and drank from two beers. Next to Ren was Jaune, carried by a laughing Pyrrha. Behind them was carried Cinder and Emerald; Cinder looked faintly disgusted by the entire affair, but didn't turn down a beer, while Emerald drank and cheered with the rest of them. Bringing up the rear was Velvet and Fox, the latter with his leg in a cast but already halfway to inebriation, having refused painkillers in favor of getting stone drunk. They had spirited him, Coco, Velvet and Sky Lark out of the hospital, while Ozpin carefully looked the other way. Sky and Velvet were not hurt, but had been kept for observation; Coco's arm was in a sling, but she was feeling no pain. Muslims were not supposed to drink, but Coco had observed that Allah had a special dispensation for fighter pilots, especially those who had brought back wrecked airplanes.
Goodwitch was in attendance, leaning against the bar, with a Coke in her hands, figuring that someone needed to stay sober. Ruby and Blake had taken one of the corner tables for Ruby Flight. Both were leaning back in their chairs, Ruby with her one beer for the night, Blake with a glass of bourbon. Ruby surveyed the crowd and felt old, although she was the youngest. Her eyes strayed to the Ace Board, hung up behind the bar:
RUBY FLIGHT
Ruby Rose (1st Lt, USAF) F-16A(ADF) Falcon 9
Blake Belladonna (1st Lt, USMC) F-14GS Tomcat 8.5
Yang Xiao Long (Capt, USAF) F-15SE Silent Eagle 6
Weiss Schnee (1st Lt., Luftwaffe) Typhoon 7
JUNIPER FLIGHT
Jaune Arc (1st Lt., AdA) Mirage 2000C 5.5
Pyrrha Nikos (Major, HAF) F-16C Falcon 21.5
Lie Ren (Capt., CUAF) J-10 Vigorous Dragon 7
Nora Valkyrie (1st Lt., USAF) A-10A Warthog 1.5
CARDINAL FLIGHT
Cardin Winchester (Capt., USAF) F-15C Eagle 3
Russel Thrush (1st Lt., USAF) F-16C Falcon 3
Dove Bronzewing (1st Lt., USAF) CF-18A Hornet 3
Sky Lark (1st Lt., RMAF) Hawk 200 0
CREAMER FLIGHT
Cinder Fall (Capt., USAF) F-15C Eagle 7
Ruth Lionheart (F/O, RAF) Jaguar GR.1A 0.5
Mercury Black (1st Lt., USAF) F-16C Falcon 4
Emerald Sustrai (Capt., EDA) Mirage F.1CE 5
COFFEE FLIGHT
Coco Adel (Capt., IqAF) Mirage F.1EQ 6
Yatsuhachi Daichi (1st Lt., JASDF) F-2A 3
Fox Alasdair/Velvet Scarlatina (Flight Lt./F/O, RAF) Tornado F.3 5
SUN FLIGHT
Sun Wukong (Capt., CUAF) FCK-1A Ching Kuo 5
Scarlet David (Lt., IDF/AF) Lavi 3
Sage Ayana (1st Lt., AMI) F-104S 0
Neptune Vasilias (Lt., USN) F/A-18C Hornet 1.5
Coco, Sky and Sage were the only ones without kills, but no one held it against them. All of them were just happy to be alive.
"How does it feel to be the second highest ranking pilot at Beacon?" Blake shouted at Ruby over the noise.
"Feels great!" Ruby took a pull from the beer. It didn't taste all that great, but it tasted better because it meant she was still alive.
"They figure out what happened to Crescent Rose?" Blake yelled.
Ruby reached into a pocket of her flight suit and dropped a piece of metal no bigger than her thumb onto the table, then leaned close to Blake so she wouldn't have to yell too much. "Piece of the train," she said loudly. "Chief picked it out of the fuselage."
"Shit," Blake breathed. Ruby was lucky it hadn't done more than it did.
"Yeah, no fooling."
Blake drank more of the bourbon. She felt like getting tight that night. Not passed-out drunk, just tight. She felt vindicated, having shot down Roman Torchwick, who was currently cooling his heels in the Beacon brig. And no Adam, she thought, wondering why the Moonslice had not been in the fight. She wondered where the White Fang had gone, but made a decision: tonight, she wouldn't worry about it.
She was suddenly grabbed by Ruth Lionheart, who grabbed a shocked Blake by the cheeks and kissed her on the lips. Next she went over to Ruby and tried to do the same, but at the last minute Ruby dodged so the kiss landed on her cheek; the Faunus shrugged, slapped her back, and went on to the next victim. She hadn't even bothered going to the hospital; uninjured, she was already very drunk and weaved dangerously towards Scarlet. Ruby blew out her breath: there was no way in hell she was going to allow her first kiss to be from a blitzed Ruth Lionheart.
Yang climbed off the shoulders of Yatsuhachi onto the bar. She had two beers under her belt and had a nice buzz going. She raised the champagne bottle to the crowd, who raised their drinks in return. "Here's to all of us, you magnificent bastards!" The cheer was deafening. Yang took a big drink and threw the rest to a giggling Emerald.
Nora leapt onto the bar next to Yang. "Hey, you assholes!" she yelled. "I don't know any tricks or nothing, so…" She grabbed the zipper on her flight suit and began pulling it down. The crowd went quiet and Goodwitch looked up, alarmed; this was how Nora had ended up naked the last time. She whisked the zipper to her navel, and Nora's impressive assets bulged out of the flight suit—but were covered in her A-10 BOOP T-shirt. There was a noticeable awww from the pilots, but then Nora threw her arm around Yang. "So I'm gonna sing!" She took another drink from both beers and began belting out a song about how everyone wished they had a gun like the A-10. Yang put her arms around her and joined in. When they were done, there were cheers, catcalls, hoots, and at least one call for Yang to show her tits. Yang unzipped her flight suit and flashed her yellow bra, then she and Nora started kicking their legs like a Rockettes dance number, quickly joined by Pyrrha and Neptune. Once they were finished, all three girls kissed Neptune; as the man who had brought down the last Nevermore, no one begrudged him.
Goodwitch signaled to the bartender for gin. It was going to be a very long night. As he brought it, the phone rang. He answered it, nodded, and tugged on Yang's flight suit leg until she looked down. "Flightline called!" he yelled. "Your crew chief wants you!"
Yang cocked her head quizzically at that. If her crew chief wanted her, there was something wrong with Ember Celica, and it was rather odd that it couldn't wait until in the morning. It wasn't like it was going to explode on the ground or something. She hopped down off the bar and left unnoticed.
Joint Base Beacon had a small correctional facility—the brig to the Navy and Marines, the stockade to the Army and Air Force. It was mainly intended for less serious crimes, so it was not the most secure place to hold Roman Torchwick.
Ironwood still made it a point to see him. Torchwick lay on his cot behind bars, with four armed guards in attendance. He looked bored, staring at the ceiling, now in military issue pajamas rather than his flight suit.
"Give us a minute," he told the guards, who went out into the hallway and closed the door. "So you're Roman Torchwick."
"Nice to be famous," Torchwick replied.
"Infamous would be a better term," Ironwood replied. "I'm told you have refused to cooperate."
"You may find this hard to believe, General sir," Torchwick smiled, looking at him for the first time, "but I'm not a fan of authority. It's the whole pirate thing."
"You might want to change your mind." Ironwood leaned against the bars. "You're going to prison, Torchwick. However, you've got a choice in this. I can get you a trial in front of civil authority. Most likely you'll get life, but that's better than the alternative…which is a military tribunal, with the authority to stand you on a wall and shoot you."
"What about my rights, General?" Torchwick acted nonchalant, but Ironwood saw him pale a little.
"What about them, Torchwick? You're a pirate. Some of our oldest laws in this nation deal with piracy, and pretty much all of them authorize me to hang you—literally. Under the Aerial Pirate Prevention Act of 1989, the penalty is death by firing squad."
"I'm surprised I even get a trial."
"You still have the right to that," Ironwood answered. "Even a tribunal will provide you a defense lawyer. But it's going to take the best lawyer since Daniel Webster to get you to beat about thirty counts of air piracy. Not to mention terrorism. Unless, of course, you want to cut a deal."
"What's on the table?" Torchwick propped himself up on an elbow.
"Tell me who's behind all this."
Torchwick grinned. "Me."
Ironwood chuckled. "Try again. You don't have the resources for this."
"No," Torchwick sighed, "not anymore."
"Sienna Khan?"
Torchwick gave it some thought. "Yes."
"Who else?"
"Just her."
Ironwood got back to his feet. "Just her?"
"Well, her and her White Fang buddies—if they're still alive."
"Is that all?" Ironwood asked.
"That's it," Torchwick said. He stood up. "Do I get my phone call now?"
"Who are you going to call?"
"Ghostbusters." Torchwick couldn't resist.
Ironwood actually laughed at that. "Good one." His smile abruptly disappeared. "You know more than you're saying, Torchwick. I don't know why you're not spilling your guts, since the White Fang hung you out to dry, but that's up to you." The general idly inspected his fingernails. "There's one other option I have. I've got some friends in the CIA. I could hand you over to them. They won't be as friendly. Roman Torchwick could…disappear. Who would mourn you?"
Torchwick lay down on his bed. "You'd break the law? I'm still an American citizen."
"You'd be surprised what I would do to win, Torchwick." Ironwood banged a fist on the bars, making the air pirate jump. "Think it over. You won't be transferred to Leavenworth for a few days."
"Hey, General." Torchwick's voice stopped Ironwood halfway through the door. "Have you considered that I'm more afraid of her than you?"
Ironwood knew who he was talking about. "She can't get to you here, Torchwick. I can. Good night."
Yang walked down the flightline. She couldn't resist looking around at all the aircraft. The pilots were partying, but for the ground crews, it was the first of a few sleepless nights. Though the GRIMM were almost certainly destroyed, missiles and guns were being loaded just in case more arrived. Aircraft with minor issues were being looked at—Yang passed Crescent Rose, and she saw Ruby's crew chief and his crew already repairing the small hole the fragment had made. She returned the chief's wave. She whistled slowly as she passed Nora's Magnhild. The entire front end of the A-10 looked like it had gone through a blender, and the canopy was a shattered mess. One engine cover was lying on the tarmac, peeled back as if by a can opener, and one tail was little more than a mass of holes. Still, the tough Warthog had done what it was designed to do, and brought Nora home. Four revetments were empty—Sky Lark's Hawk was at the bottom of the Mississippi, and Ruth Lionheart's Jaguar and Fox and Velvet's Tornado were blackened wreckage in the forest of southern Minnesota. Coco's Mirage was in a hangar, having been dragged off the runway.
Though she didn't mind the walk, Yang was still glad to reach the end of the dispersal area, where Ember Celica sat, across the taxiway from Gambol Shroud. Yang's crew chief, who was short and stocky where Ruby's was big and heavy, leaned against the F-15. In his hand, he held a large spanner wrench. Since Ember Celica had not taken any hits, the chief was the only one by the aircraft; the others were helping Nora's crew.
"Hey, Sarge," Yang greeted him. "What's up?"
"I'm not sure," the crew chief replied. He motioned at the knoll overlooking the dispersal, where Blake had poured her heart out to Yang—was that just the day before yesterday? Yang wondered. "Someone came down the line about twenty minutes ago, looking for you. Never seen her before in my life, but she's wearing a flight suit."
"Visiting pilot?"
"Beats me, ma'am. There aren't any aircraft in at the transient tarmac. The B-52s went back to O'Hare, and the tankers are down in Milwaukee." He looked worried. "Something isn't right about her, Captain. I've never seen the helmet that she has with her, and I've been in the Air Force for damn near twenty years."
"Did she look like she was going to whip my ass?" It occurred to Yang that it could be Neo Politan, who she was sure had damn near killed her today, but she didn't think Neo would be crazy enough to sneak into a heavily-guarded military base just to chat.
"Actually, no, Captain, but…" The sergeant hesitated. "She's up there, ma'am. Maybe you better go see for yourself. But before you do…" He held out the spanner wrench, and held up a radio. "I can call the air cops, too, if you like."
"That's okay." Yang started towards the hill, then accepted the wrench. She continued up the hill, glad that her chief was watching. She wished she'd brought a gun.
The figure was easy to see. She was about the same height as Yang, dressed in what was obviously a well-tailored, custom flight suit of black and red, but it was indeed the helmet that was the most arresting. It didn't look like a helmet so much as it looked like the skull of some predator: white with red streaks, and instead of a visor, four slits that looked like four eyes. "Who the fuck are you?" Yang asked.
The figure's laugh was muffled by the helmet. "Oh, you're mine. If there was any doubt, you're mine." She reached up and took off the helmet, and Yang nearly fell in surprise. The hair was black, the eyes were a reddish-brown, but the features were her own. "You've been looking for me for awhile, Yang. I'm your mother—Raven Branwen."