Author's Note: I can never be more sentimental enough, I really am thankful that someone found my own writings decent enough to stick around for more. Sure my story is not nearly as popular as, let's say the majority of the RWBY fan section, nor even anywhere on the radar. Even for stories about being transported to another world Final Countdown style, but it's mine, and it's been a pleasure writing it for whatever small audience I have. By the way, at some point I will have to write a chapter explaining the current world politics of my story otherwise future arcs will feel like they came out of thin air, so stay tuned for that.
Beta-read by Karaya 2
Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.
Velvet Shell
It had been a few weeks since they had all started, Pyrrah quickly picked up on the other students around her, how they acted, and how they looked at themselves. After hanging around Alex and his friends for sometime, she quickly saw the difference and it was an almost night and day difference in how they acted. She didn't even see this in the Atlas students, it was almost just that small group of eight, including Weiss and Penny.
Had she just seen them walking down the street, she would have never guessed they were in the military with how they carried themselves. Most of all was how they fought, as she recalled her fight with Alex, he never hesitated, and he never flinched. All his moves were calculated and brutally efficient, and it was even worse when he was fighting Grimm, whom she could tell he couldn't care less for, to him they were just an enemy. It seemed to him that everything he fought was just a target, he showed no regret, no remorse, no mercy, and most of all, no fear. He just reacted and she had no idea how anyone could just think like that.
Pyrrah never forgot what Alex had told her that night. His haunted and distant look as he, even for a brief moment recall his past experiences. It was no question that he had seen something in his young, tired eyes. Destiny had always been a fickle thing for Pyrrah, even from a young age she always felt that her destiny was to bring peace to the world. Though she didn't know how nor to what end it would take to achieve that, she did know one thing, it wouldn't mean a thing if she died before reaching there.
Alex was right, everything in the arena she was ever taught is close to completely useless in the field. She would have to change her entire style when out on mission, and right now, she knew exactly where to start.
"I know it's here somewhere," Pyrrah whispers to herself as she searched through the old magazines at the library. "Found it."
She pulls out an old, slightly wrinkled copy of last year's TIME magazine. On the cover were six, incredibly young individuals who she instantly recognized and the title read "Prometheus's Fire."
"Knew it," she smiles and looks specifically at Nathaniel.
She picks up her scroll, finds the number and hits "dial."
"So, how did you end up on the cover of TIME magazine?" she asks Nathnaial as they walked through the busy hanger bay.
"You read the article didn't you?" he asks.
"Yeah, but it only went over your invention and how it would change the world," she replies "I mean, they did briefly talk about you guys, but it was barely a footnote. I wanna hear it from you, Nate."
"Arlight," he chuckles, "Well, it started almost three years ago when six college students got together one night."
"You were in college?" she asks, a little surprised.
"Yep," he replies, popping the "P," "Most kids go to a combat school, we went to college. There isn't really an age restriction, if you qualify you get in, so that's what we've basically done for the past three years on top of our time in the military."
"This is actually starting to make more sense," Pyrrah comments as she thought about it. "So you all had similar degrees I take it?"
"No," he laughs, "Which is what made the team up even more surprising, I'm not going into the specifics, 'cause that would take too much time. Grant, he wasn't captain yet, that was a couple years off, he was preparing to take the MCAT, Max and Alex were Business majors, Law and Admin respectively, Robert was a duel major studying Physics and Mathematics. Penny would join later adding Computer Science to the mix."
"Why physics and mathematics?" she asks, curious about Robert's choice.
"He's a sniper," Nathanial noted.
Pyrrah quickly puts two and two together, "What about you and Evan?"
"Engineering, he was mechanical and I was electrical both with minors in chemical engineering," he answers.
"Wait," Pyrrah was confused, "So how did you come together then, a lot of those aren't exactly related?"
"Video games and a lot of alcohol," he replies. "So anyway, the six of us, the ballsy and stupid entrepreneurs we were, were trying to develope a new type of fuel based out of a refined kerosene."
Pyrrha could see where this was going.
Nathaniel laughs as he recalls the memory, "You see, we were trying to test the flash point….er the temperature in which it would ignite and we managed to get it to 200 degrees Celsius."
"W-what," Pyrrah sputtered in shock at the absurd number. "D-did it explode?"
"Nope," he replies, "The couch next to it caught fire."
Well, definitely not what she was expecting.
"Instead of expelling us, the university sent us to a remote farm and told us to keep working," he told her, "A few months go by, then suddenly, in randomly walks General Ironwood and Jaques Schnee, saying they wanna give us a job." Nathenial turns to her and shrugs, "And that's the story of how the Promethea Aerospace Laboratory was founded, fast-forward a few years later and we are basically the Schnees entire Research and Development department."
He opens a door that leads into the warehouse section of the hanger.
"So, what are we doing here?" she asks.
"When we came over here to Beacon, obviously we couldn't stop working, so we brought some of the stuff with us," he explains, "You see, when we were given the department, General Ironwood's next move was to send us basically every failed prototype and project that they had a record of to see if we could make any use of it. Environmental procedures, defense projects, consumer products, all prototypes, none in production on any level whatsoever." He points to a corner and says, "Over here."
He comes up to a large cabinet, unlocks it and pulls open the bottom drawer revealing a black suit of armor.
"Nomex survival suit for advanced infantry."
Pyrrah reaches down and touches the material, it felt smooth and rubbery to her.
"Kevlar bi-weave, reinforced joints," he explained and rapped his knuckles on the breastplate for reassurance, "Was built to protect soldiers from some of the heavier Grimm attacks."
"Tear-resistance?" she asks.
"This sucker was built to stop the claws of an ursa, knives were basically not an issue."
"Bulletproof?"
"Anything but a straight shot."
"Why didn't they put it into production?" Pyrrha inquired.
"Bean counters didn't think a soldier's life was worth 300,000 lien," he explains as he closes the cabinet.
"So what do current soldiers use then?" Pyrrah asks, "I assume it involves a lot more than just some fancy armor."
"You'd be right."
He walks over to a table, swings out the duffel he brought and pulls out another set, this one vastly different from the last.
"This is my set," he explains, "I got a field exercise later so I brought it in with me. It is more or less the standard combat outfit for an Expeditionary Force trooper."
He pulls out a green, form fitting top and leggings.
"This is the under-suit that we wear."
"Brought to you by Under Armour," she jokes.
"Basically," Nathanial laughs, "It's a basic temperature control bodysuit, made out of normal, high-strength cotton instead of synthetics. When it's hot, it'll loosen and allow air to flow easier added with the mesh that soak up sweat even quicker, in the cold it will contract, allowing increased insulation and it'll hug the body. These replaced the silks we used to wear," he explains, "We still have the waffles though, we're never getting rid of those."
He moves over to the uniform.
"These are our BDUs, they are loose fitting, allowing air to flow through, and when in combat, the blouse is swapped out for a shirt."
"Flame-retardant?"
"The synthetic fibers in the older uniform had the habit of grafting to the soldier's skin when on fire. For these, by the time the synthetics melt, the skin underneath would have been long cooked," he darkly jokes.
He moves over to the harness.
"This is our Modular Combat Rigging Harness made out of woven polyethylene," he points to the main body, "It's reinforced around the torso, upper thighs, and crotch. It is what we call a Type II soft-armor and will stop your basic handgun cartridges. Generally 9 mm to 45 ACP. We also treat it with a shear thickening fluid that makes this thing incredibly tear resistant."
"What kind of protection are we talking about?" she asks curiously.
"We tested it with an ice-pick and it failed to penetrate," he smiles.
Pyrrah lets out a whistle, "Just on the reinforced parts?"
"That's correct," he nods, "There are also ballistic inserts."
He pulls out a ceramic plate from the vest.
"The ones on the chest and sides are Type IV and are rated to stop six to eight armor-piercing .308 rounds before loss of plate integrity. The shoulder and thigh plates are rated III and will stop up to armor piercing .223s."
He pulls out the helmet.
"This is our ACH, the recon variant, it has holes at the top to allow the hair to breath and has the ear covers removed for improved hearing. This is also rated Type III, so it's only rated to stop AP .223s at most, but it is capable of deflecting .308s depending on the angle."
"What's the weight for all this?"
"About 18 kgs evenly distributed across the body."
"Seems reasonable, how much does this cost?" Pyrrah asks.
She imagined it would be a lot.
"They would have never bought it if it was too pricey," he replies then ponders for about as he goes over the prices, "Let's see, 400 for the harness post fluid treatment, another 250 for the helmet, 250 for the chest plates, 150 for the shoulders and thighs, 120 for the uniform, 200 for boots, 20 for gloves, 60 for the under-suit and 40 for knee and elbow pads." He does some quick math, "2,720 lein give or take."
"That's it?!" Pyrrha coughs.
"The armour and uniform, while unfairly pricey, is still rather cheap and are pretty good benchmarks for where you should be quality wise," he explains, "Remember this is the military we are talking about."
He pulls out a chart and adds "Actually, the majority of our costs come from our electronics, eye-pro with a built in hud, tactical headsets, NVGs, thermal scopes ...after all of that...to equip one trooper, it costs 30,000 lein."
"How much would all this weigh when the rifle and other equipment is added in?"
"Well lets see," he does some more math in his head, "The armor and uniform will bring you to around 20 kgs evenly distributed across the body, once you add in the weapon and all the other equipment, anywhere between 25 and 70 kgs."
"Jeez," she whistles, "I'd imagine that is quite the hassle, can't imagine that's very good on the body."
"No," Nathnial shook his head, "Especially around the knees and spine, so this was created to help protect against that, which brings us to our final bit…."
He pulls out a black frame like a construct that is wrapped around the legs.
"This is the Onyx Exoskeleton," he introduced, "It is a simple, hydraulically driven, rugged design, the frame redirects the weight and drives it into the ground, and for every 20kgs, it removes 10. It can easily be taken apart and repaired in the field, given someone has a flat-head screwdriver of course."
"And you said it's not battery powered?" she asks, impressed.
"Yep, and it's not cheap," he then tells her "You shouldn't have to worry about it too much though, unless you do plan on strapping 33% of your body to your back regularly."
She shook her head before looking back at the armor and asking "Are there any drawbacks to all of this?"
"Well it only covers the vital areas and leaves large parts of it exposed and the joints aren't reinforced leaving them more vulnerable in order to save on weight and dexterity."
Pyrrah frowns, "It still seems a little cheap for what they are meant to do. It at least works though, right?"
"Oh yeah," he laughs, "Military Grade actually means to the lowest bidder, but it is not doubt reliable and capable of performing its intended function….most of the time. It's saved my ass more times than I've bothered to count."
He starts packing everything back up before turning back to Pyrrah.
"By the way, they don't actually get any of this until after they graduate from their AIT and arrive at their first unit," he added on a final note.
"Why is that?" she asks.
"It's the same reason why we don't generally want their auras unlocked until after their BCT," he replies with a shrug, "We want them to become proficient before they have any of that, that way if they ever find themselves without their fancy stuff, they still know how to do their job and complete the mission."
Pyrrah nods in understanding,
"Right, it makes sense," she comments.
"What's funny is that if they don't get it unlocked by someone in the platoon, they tend to get it on their own either during their 40k ruck march or their Night Infiltration Course...that's where we make them low-crawl across wet sand for about a hundred meter while setting off M80s and firing off live rounds over their heads." After he finishes locking up the cabinets, with a curious glint in his eyes, he asks "So, what's your interest in all this?"
"Well…." she ponders, "You see, my arena outfit is a little exposed, especially around here," she motions at her breasts, "You can imagine why. It's pretty clear that it'll never actually hold up in combat and I was hoping for a new upgrade."
Nathaniel eyes her for a moment as if he was studying her.
"You expect to run into some rather heavy gunfire in future arena battles?" he asks incredulously.
Pyrrah smiles politely, "Well you know, people are getting rougher and violent every day. They really wanna win at the cost of safety nowadays. It's getting kind of crazy I tell you."
"You do know that the rounds needed to penetrate these plates are banned from arenas, right?" he asks, "And, all this would mean extra weight and loss of flexibility for you in said arenas?"
Lying was never her best talent. The fact that Nathnaisl was basically laughing spoke of her quality. So, she wasn't going to.
"Who said anything about arenas?" she challenges. "If we're expected to do our jobs as huntsman and huntresses, we can't treat the field like the ring right?"
Understanding, Nathanial nods.
"So," he looks her square in the eyes, "Is any of what I told you match what you're looking for?"
Well, she leans slightly closer and comments "I was actually hoping you would do a sort of custom set for me."
"Hmm," Nathnial gave the request some thought. "Do you have anything for me to go off of?"
She hands him some rough sketches and some notes and he starts looking through them. He looked over the designs before looking back at Pyrrha, he stared long and hard until Pyrrha started to shift uncomfortably.
"Are you sure about these colors?" he points to the notes that read "red and bronze."
"Yes," she nods confidently, "If it's not too much trouble."
"No, it's doable," he finally says to her, "But it'll take time, remember I still have a job to do on top of my school work, and equipment training/testing. Even with the colors, I think I can still make it practical."
"Alright," she nods.
"Also, normally the materials used here aren't that expensive," he warns, "But in order to fit the conditions needed, it's going to be a bit more expensive due to the custom nature."
Pyrrah pauses before smiling and saying "Oh that won't be a problem."
On a completely unrelated note, out walked Evan from the school post office. He read over the envelope for a moment before walking off to find a lone bench. He sat down and shifted nervously at it, unsure of what to do.
"Hey, you!" a voice snaps, ending the silence.
At the end of the empty hallway stood a long teen girl wearing a long cocoa-colored shirt with a dark brown waist cincher, a black beret and a pair of sunglasses….in doors.
"I don't think that's the standard uniform," Evan comments as she got closer.
She snorts and a smirk forms on her face as she replies back "Funny, I could say the same about you," as she points to his duty uniform. She then stops and asks "So, what are you doing out here, shouldn't you be in class?"
"I'm off this period," he simply replies.
She nods and comments "Lucky you." She then adds "Next time don't hang around the hallways, give teachers the idea that you're snooping around or whatever you freshman get up to now-a-days. Amazing what changes in only the span of a year."
Evan stiffens slightly before gathering his things.
"Right, sorry," he stands up.
The now confirmed two-yeared student waves it off, "Hey don't sweat it, come on, I'll take you to somewhere where they won't bother you."
She led him outside into the park, around which he could see other students just casually walking about or sitting under the trees.
"So what's up?" she asks, "I saw the way you were looking at the envelope and you seemed rather uneasy, everything alright?"
"It's just something work related." he replies.
"What is a possible promotion?" she asks.
"Something like that," Evan answers, "I took a course, and whether or not I passed determines…."
She nods "Gotcha, so you're just nervous then huh?"
Evan nods and glances to the side awkwardly.
"Would it help if someone else read it to you?" she offers.
He shook his head saying "I don't wanna be a bother or anything…."
She simply raises her hand and looks at him expectantly. He glances down at it, and then back at her before handing her the letter. She opens it, adjusts her sunglasses and starts to read.
"Dear SPC Evan Malarkey…." she eyes him and comments "Oh we finally have a name now, pleasure to meet you." She continues reading, "Atlas Expeditionary Force, 1st Armored Division, Able Company…."
She narrows her eyes in the next paragraph.
"We congratulate you on completing the Warrant Officer pilots course and we welcome you as one of the first pilots in the 1st Air Cavalry Regiment. Due to the nature of your current status, he apologized for not being able to congratulate you in person, and thus we shipped your wings alongside this letter. We congratulate you on achieving your new rank and we expect a great thing from you."
She lowers her sunglasses revealing her dark brown eyes as she looks up to him and whistles, "Warrant Officer, huh?"
He smiles bashfully.
"What can you fly?" she asks curiously.
"Specifically?" he asks, "Airplanes and helicopters."
"Helicopters?" she smiles, "I've heard of those, think you can get me a ride?"
Evan sighs "I don't know…."
"Even after helping you read the letter you were so scared look over?" she presses.
Evan smirks and says "Alright, I'm sure I can work something out."
She hands him back the letter and says "I'll hold you to it, Warrant Officer."
"Thank you, miss," and he walks away.
"Oh Evan, one more thing!" she calls out.
He turns around in surprise.
"My name's Coco," she tells him, "In case you were wondering what to call me."
Evan politely smiles before tipping his hat at her and turning back around.
"I think he's taller than a fox," she comments to herself as she watches him walk off. "That's a first."
Author's Note: Sometimes foreshadowing is obvious, while other times it is not as in the open. Also, Coco's been introduced, should you expect anything special? I'd say no, probably not, because I would have to find a reason to use her and I am pretty sure I am well away from that. The point I am trying to say is, we'll get there at some point, but we also got another three volumes worth of content to get through, so don't come here asking for it. I hope you've had a good time, at this point we come to another closing of a chapter, I hope to see you again. Remember, Big Brother is watching.
