Ey people, sorry about it coming so late! This month has been a fucking nightmare with all the extra hours in the job bc of my recess and the cost of everything that just went up especially remedies. But you guys didn't come here for this.
sorry for any grammar/formatation mistakes.
I will update the chapter eventually and respond to the 20-so reviews (our record!), today I just can't bring myself up to this, I am a lot tired. Have a good time reading the longest one yet (a lot of things happened...)!
Unlike what the sensationalist media in his Galaxy might say so, no, he wasn't born a military genius who led troops with natural effectiveness and wit capable enough of gambit even the fearsome Count Dooku to submission with utmost ease.
Everything he knows about war and its nature, its philosophy, came from one man: Sheev Palpatine. The initiative originated from the Chancellor himself and, as much as Obi-wan didn't find comfort with his Jedi padawan learning the exact thing the Order strived to prevent at all from happening, it was a single argument he learned from the Chancellor in his first class, the basics of Peace and War, that prevented Obi-wan from arguing beyond baseless apprehension:
"The only way to prepare for war is to be sure that there will be those who will fight with the primary of securing peace. It should never be believed that life, happiness, peace, and liberty will fall from the sky. Everything is rooted in one's own will, in one's own labor."
Peace is not a natural state of society and never will be, was the second thing he learned. It must be kept constantly through watchful eyes and one iron fist over your enemy and the other on yourself. Men must be trained to prevent the enemy from advancing; men must be taught to think and prevent the enemy from recovering... And men must be cruel because their enemies will always be much crueler.
Finally, the third teaching, the last pillar of war where the rest would be built above, is that to lead an army of men, you must think like one of them... And Anakin was the perfect fit for this lesson.
War will always exist. In it, he must be strong, smart, and impetuous. Always consider those who are on your side, for they are the ones who will raise their weapons to kill your enemies, not the other way around.
He was the perfect fit to learn of war.
For 10 years, Anakin learned everything possible. Nobody better than a slave to prepare himself extensively for the worst. And then it happened, on 12/10/XXXXX, he docked his Venator in Coruscant's atmosphere and reported with a wide smile to the Council the massive success of his first campaign in the Clone Wars, the first and only campaign that month with clone deaths laying on 3%. He soon made his way to the Chancellor's office, anxious and agonizing in doubts. Was he good enough, did he followed and lived for Sheev's expectations?... He will never forget the moment when the Chancellor pulled him into a warm embrace and said, with such a tender smile, that he was proud of the man he had become.
'—I see now that my efforts were not wasted. Strong words from a former Führer of the Naboonian Army like myself'; the foreign word meaning a military rank in the language of Naboo, one of many languages that Sheev himself had taught him how to speak over the years.
He still remembers Padmé's amused face when he called her Meinefrau during their most romantics bits, a mental smile emerging at the such.
But those sweet memories are for later. After the death, blood, and destruction of the now.
For 10 years, he trained to protect people, protect their lifestyles, and kill the enemy threatening the plans of a Republic that would take care of the Galaxy's problems.
So when he said that he was offended by what he had seen so far, no one had the slightest right to contradict him.
Everything he saw before him was inherently wrong.
A few minutes ago, he and Blake had begun to assist in the efforts to contain the creatures of Grimm that were invading the city and had as their priority target the square where Ada's bookstore was located, the area of greatest danger going from there to the place where the sniper threw the gas grenade in his face. So the first thing to be done was to close the perimeter accordingly, full protection of the inner edges of the orange sector—the area which still is in danger, but not as much as the red sector—, and evacuate people from both sectors to the green sector, the one of extremely low danger, notoriously perfect for the wounded and to conduce the war machine from above.
Edge protection would constitute 80% of the total available forces, 35% of the medics, and 60% of the armored fighting vehicles, the intent being that the Grimm would enter the red area with the people already evacuated and when they tried to leave, all they would encounter would be strong opposition that could hold them there for slaughter.
That kind of maneuver only works with an enemy who primarily follows their instincts, and he has studied Grimm enough to be confident that they are on this tiny list.
The orange sector would be evacuated with 20% of the ground vehicles, the distribution favoring mass transport vehicles such as Walkers. 60% of the fliers would patrol and kill gilded Grimm, a rate of 1 flying enemy to 50 ground ones, if his math matches. 15% of the medics for quick work in the evacuation vehicles, the rest parked in the tents in the green sector for care. The rest of the flying vehicles split up for gathering information from the edges of the city and recovery of wounded and civilians.
And then the rest of the troops, an elite company and 20% of the combat vehicles would advance through the forest to create a perimeter, usually with a powerful leader in front like a Jedi; huntsmen, as is the case with Remnant. Then, with an outer wall created, the troops on the edges of the orange lines would split up and head this way, the threat in the city pretty much neutralized for now.
A simple plan.
Green, good and safe. Take your civilians and wounded soldiers there. Orange, not bad. Make a perimeter and stop enemy advance there. Red? Bad, really bad. Get people out of there as soon as possible and let the monsters scatter so they'll hit your iron walls made of good soldiers.
... But the edge lines of the orange sector were, practically, a mess. There were no walls of men stopping the Grimm advancing from the red sector into the orange, and those trying mediocrely to put up a perimeter or, better, a front found themselves outnumbered quickly. Most of the soldiers were moving into the red sector to kill the Grimm, except that it didn't work at all if the Grimm could simply run into the orange sector.
And what about the organization? It was a personal insult! Insult to all his efforts of months killing Grimm inside that forest because, in the face of a full-scale invasion, what were those soldiers supposed to protect people doing? Arguing! Arguing among themselves! Information took too long to arrive and when it did, the situation had already taken a turn for the worse on its own. Supports were arriving in unnecessary places or too many in a place that didn't need them yet, separating the forces and creating even bigger gaps in the defense.
People were dying in dark corners. Grimm were tearing off heads, limbs, disemboweling people with their powerful claws and jaws; all because the Grimm Attack Response—as he learned from Blake—, wasn't equipped to handle and triumph over this chaotic situation... But it wasn't lack of equipment or men and women who were willing to fight that crippled the response: it was incompetence at the top.
And that infuriated him.
Whoever was leading these brave men and women was a complete and total fool disconnected from the rules and conditions of the battlefield, and for their incompetence, so many already had lost their lives and joined the Living Force needlessly!
The Force barked and the darkness that enveloped the entire city shook a little closer to him. Blake's ears perked up as his eyes moved to a small alley beside him, near the edge of the red and orange sectors. Turning his gaze to Blake, Anakin then shifted to the forty-something man wearing a seemingly expensive tuxedo, ruined by blood. In his hands a young woman, perhaps 24, no older than Padmé, and yet with blackened blood staining her pompous white dress.
"Keep leading them until you find a safe place, send me a message when you're done..." His lightsaber ignited and repulsed the darkness with blinding light, illuminating beyond the violent orange that painted the black sky and the artificial lights of poles and houses, most of them broken.
"Right!" Exasperated by the whole situation, Blake was about to lead the frightened father, stopped one last time by Anakin who fervently stared down the alley... With reddened teeth, three Ursas followed the smell of intense fear that led them here, hungry red eyes on the terrified man.
"Don't come to find me—I have a job for you and I need you on the moving. Now go!" His voice was spoken in conviction, saber turning to its primary pose of Djam So.
Blake shuddered slightly at the roar of one of the Ursas and, with no words to add, nodded and began to run in front of the man, prepared to defend him against the beasts made of sin, even if he was a human. The man looked between the little faunus girl and Anakin before tenderly holding his eyes on the woman in his arms. The Jedi would never blame someone for choosing to run away and protect rather than fight for that liquid rage that sought revenge for the monsters that destroyed what should have been a day of happiness... but that doesn't matter, both were running away behind him, his icy eyes held the Ursas still, filled with intentions of death and destruction.
Anakin was furious.
... But he kept this fury within himself. It would be better if used properly later.
And General Skywalker of the Great Army of the Republic was very well trained in military strike precision.
[Sith Lords]
Winter was furious.
... But she kept this fury within herself. It would be better if used properly later.
And the Right Hand of the Great Atlassian Army was very well trained in putting up with deluded fools.
Hiding a sigh, she faced the three Atlassian soldiers who were accompanying her in Beacon during her quarterly meeting with Ozpin on behalf of Ironwood, one that went as well as any. Just as they were leaving Vale, an emergency Grimm Invasion signal came in on the CCTS, Code Orange. She quickly relayed the information to James when she saw that it was in one of the towns—almost village, she has to say—that he was interested in. The only response he gave her was to go there and try to assist in the efforts and be on the lookout for... someone.
And here she was, 98 minutes after the first emergency signal—one of many.
"It's not my fault that the forces took too long to get there! What's the situation here?" The woman shouted in a voice taken by stress, eyes monitoring the holographic map on the table before her like she could magically change it with a stare intense enough. Around the area, various vehicles were arriving and departing, all bringing in various wounded citizens or soldiers who found no luck on the battlefield; the medics, without the conventional supplies to stabilize so many people with so many different types of injuries that required different types of specialties were running around like mad people, Winter caressing her hand across her porcelain-white forehead at the sight of the medics, the damn medics, arguing, the stress of their leader draining off onto them.
"The number of ground Grimm overwhelm our men, we need to order a retreat to make perimeter in Sector Zulu—"
"We cannot retreat! If we retreat, the damn Grimm will come right at us and tear us apart! Have them hold position and try to make perimeter from here to here—"
"Lady Arc, we have a report from Xray and Whiskey sectors, they are retreating; they say there are too many—"
"What?! But I ordered them to hold position before! Why are these disgraced men disrespecting me?!" The blonde woman shouted, eyes fulminating at the poor bastard in charge of the teams of information and logistics. The man rapidly looked around with no idea what to answer, further enraging the leader of the operation. "And what are the huntsmen doing? They train all their lives, and when it comes the do time, they let things like this happen! I can't believe my little bro wants to be like them..." Pulling a white cloth from one of the pockets of her uniform, the blonde wiped her forehead fiercely and looked again at the real-time map that changed according to the incoming information—the various red and flashing areas, masses of black dots everywhere, and low supply lines showed how desperate the situation was.
"The huntsmen are doing the best they can, the flaw I see is in your tactics." Winter tried, for the umpteenth time, to correct this insufferable woman's mind. She had no jurisdiction whatsoever to take the reins of the entire Operation Black March any time she wanted, even if the scalding blood running through her veins begged for it—and, in the process, planted a fist in this madwoman's face—, so she was forced to just watch this mess unfold before her very eyes.
"It's these idiots' fault who can't listen to orders and get in the way of everything, don't try to diminish me on my own island, Schnee!" the venom in her voice made the Ice Queen burn with wrath. Not just her, but all the people working hard around her and who had friends, family, and lovers dying there in that war scenario too. "I am a military leader too, a soon-to-be Major, I have every ability to defeat these Grimms and clean up my city. Stay out of it!" In a lapse of anger, Winter banged her teeth and then her hand on the holographic table.
"You're condemning these people using tactics made for guerrilla warfare, not up-escalated defense!" Winter will never understand how someone like her could achieve a position of power knowing virtually nothing about what she was doing. The kind of forward strategy she employs works against small bands of Grimm, 300 of them roughly, enough supplies in reserve to last up to two months against a medium-sized attack of 2000 Grimm. But for one of this caliber? The amount of Grimm invading the city is enough to initiate Red Star: evacuation of the entire city.
But, there's always a catch...
Patch is an important economic transportation point. Losing Patch to the Grimm will cause dozens of Dust, weapons, and other production magnates to take a huge loss of profits.
And nothing is more frightening to a government than the wealthy less wealthy... Remembering this left a bitter taste in her mouth. These people, the people of the Patch, will be unable to leave here until the situation reaches Black Pendulum: the city is lost until a full-scale Operation is put in place—, and until then, irreparable damage to human lives will be done. Unlike money, lives cannot be recovered.
Not that the people up there care about that small fact.
Still, it is a fact that Mera Arc is completely inexperienced with large-scale attacks, and perhaps the absolute success rate that a humongous military might in a small town have has gone to her head. She'd stubbornly keep the army fighting as opposed to begging on her knees for a full evacuation to be put in place as soon as possible—she's sure she could do it, it takes a lot of getting on her knees to get into the position of GAR (Grimm Attack Response) Chief with those kinds of skills.
Crossing her arms and forcing herself to save the intense anger for future use, Winter looked around for any source of calm, or at least to replace the anger with sadness, which is much more manageable. The sapphires in her eyes softened as she watched a little faunus girl all bloodstained helping a well-groomed man carry a beautiful woman, a fiancée, to one of the doctors, the bloody weapon on the faunus' hand alluding to the confrontations she endured as to bring those people here... so many who had tried the same and failed. She feels sorry for those poor souls.
Practically being led into an abyss against an impetuous enemy, an increasingly desperate situation, no light at the end of the tunnel, no hero to break the laws and put other people before themselves, fighting these monsters effectively; the only man that comes to mind is James Ironwood, but he now found himself at the far end of the map... Patch's people are on their own in this hell.
James asked that she be stationed there primarily for observation and, if requested, war advice; and watching an already bad situation worsen before her very eyes would definitely go into her report.
She didn't notice the little faunus girl taking a picture with her scroll.
[are our]
Never look weak.
Men and women will look at the smoke and the fire rising, at the blood and the bodies, at the deformed enemies at the end of their weapon's sights and, with questions nagging in their minds, they will stare at him for any light in this infinite darkness... And what they will see is a strong man; a tall stature, vivid blond hair, a marble-cut chin, a smile full of confidence, and a strong, decisive step that mimicked the rhythm of a weapon of light, blue eyes that see the entire scope of the battlefield as well as a mocking scar left by one of the deadliest assassins back in his galaxy.
They will not see his bloody body, his bruises, flaws, the consuming terror of seeing millions of dead engineered monsters marching the music of death upon them.
They will see their leader as strong, and they will fight for what he represents.
So Anakin carried on his shoulders proudly that black cloak he picked up tossed in the streets, darkness encapsulating him and hiding his flaws as he followed to the coordinates Blake gave him, his mind centered on every piece of information passed by the faunus.
Never be indecisive.
"—I don't know, but it looks like the chief is in a lot of trouble. She yelled at the staff and is furious about people disobeying her orders... When are you arriving?"
"Soon."
Never being indecisive in how you treat the people around you or how you give orders, make decisions, is something that Palpatine has screwed into his mind really hard. A mind without its own directions is a predictable mind, the Grimm as an example.
And never, ever, diminish the one who raises their weapons on your behalf. For the only one who will shoot at you is the enemy, and they deserve a quick and final death.
With a towering posture and chin up, the black cloak fluttering around him and hiding his body in the process of trance recovery, Anakin observed the area in the photo Blake sent minutes ago once again, an inherent disgust rising in his eyes as he saw the complete lack of organization and the unbridled sense of desperation and pain that outlining the hearts of those faithless soldiers waging a senseless crusade... These brave men and women disbelieve that they are the guardians of life, the guardians of peace, and therefore they are doomed to die.
No.
He won't let that happen. He refuses to.
He is Anakin Skywalker third, Jedi second today... For the 419th General of the Grand Republic Army, Designated Jedi of the 501st, 'Hero's Fist' Infantry, had his hands on the wheel.
And he will die again before this city perishes.
So he approached and passed by without even a glance at the bloody, dead people sprawled on stretchers and sheets hastily laid out, torn apart by brutal Grimm attacks and those who loved them weeping over their bodies, Blake's Force signature close and tired and confused, but determined even so. He would talk to her later, there was more important business to attend to.
"Hey, this area is restricted—"
The soldier who tried to stop him from getting near that holographic table was instantly paralyzed, Anakin not holding his step even for a moment.
Disbelieving eyes fell on him shortly, but no weapon was raised and no other words were spoken. Yes, using Force Paralysis is frowned upon by the council as a dark art that, using the desperation of the environment and an adept control of the Force, could actively prevent the most fragile minds from reacting. Seeing how the enemy in the Clone Wars were mainly soulless robots, this technique quickly fell into disuse, but he always found use in it in the most chaotic of situations. With his eyes full of prejudice and judgment, he stopped in front of the holographic table and, without a moment's hesitation, banged his hand on the table with just enough pressure not to break the glass—
SLAM!
The Force empowered the sound, more like a cannon than a hand against glass, massive use of Force suggestion being the icing in the cake as to make the blonde woman on the other side, uniform adorned with medals and achievements that spoke of other heroes who wore the same, take a step back and let out a pitiful little scream, wide her eyes a little more than before.
The Force said it all, but he didn't need the Force to find the 'x' in the equation of who exactly is the problem here.
The silence behaved from his blue eyes scanning the people of interest; the white-haired, blue-eyed, beautiful woman with a strong posture, a more than competent military leader in the face of her reaction to his abrasive arrival, a thin, pointed metal sword ready at any moment to open a slash of at least eight centimeters in his throat... But there was submission behind those pupils of freezing blue, the same kind of submission one sees in padawans during the Clone Wars; she has power and ability, but she will never be the most important on the war board, even if that submission was fighting against her morals now. She wanted to do something, but was unable to do it, hindered by duty; not his favorite kind of person. The other needed no comment, radiant beauty outshining any kind of skill she might have in commanding a great army. The silence had taken its toll and lasted more than long enough, the constant beeps and alarming color changes on the holotable making it clear that time was short.
"Your name." he looked into the blonde's eyes, the Force warning him of offended anger growing within her... one that he crushed completely with questionable use of Force Terror. The words were caught inside her throat, her neck moved back to so observe inside his eyes, and the influence of the Sith art shaping the darkness surrounding him much to be more tangible than the flames burning in the background. A high-ranking officer, someone who trains and lives to lead other people and protect those behind them... This is a position Anakin highly esteems and expects from—weak, corrupt people who lack the capacity for the job seriously enrage him, enough to grow within the desire to choke them as a payment for sacrificed lives for nothing, but he would never do that; anger is good only when thrown in its full and overwhelming power on the enemy. "Your name. What is it?" The Dark Side technique once again trumpeted in her ears, the woman practically frozen, any sense of correctness or truth of her actions being forcefully gutted from her.
General Skywalker could not tolerate failure, and if to save lives he would have to hack the dignity and career out of just one woman who he saw no ability in... then he would felicitously make the sacrifice.
"Mera... Arc." the pale woman glanced over at the blonde with a certain morbid curiosity, disbelieving and complexioned at the situation so bewildering before her, keeping her silence as it is expected from a padawan. Her mind was fortified like a wall of ice, penetrating and uncovering her secrets was impossible... Not in this condition, at least.
"Anakin Skywalker. Now, Patch has, by a small margin, 248,000 inhabitants. It's an area of 207km and the—"
"Who you—"
"Shut up. The main Grimm types are 20 Beowolves, 3 Ursas, 1 Nevermore, and 1 Deathstalker in perspective of 1000 humans, 10 thousand for the last—we're facing an average of 4900 Beowolves, for example." he peeped at the table and slowly brought his eyes back to the woman on the other side. "How many men and women willing to die are fighting today?"
An explosion occurred in the background, incessant gunfire reverberated the conflict of every poor devil fighting for their lives, and soon after, their souls left this plane to join the Living Force. Not for a moment did he break eye contact.
"Look, I don't know who—"
"Man with red-framed glasses and light blue hair, answer me immediately; how many?" the said man at one of the computers trembled at being so openly defined by someone who was not even looking at him. The commanding tone—and a strong Force Suggestion—led him to, before he even realized what he was doing, speak.
"4,900, 8 battalions sir!" realizing his mistake, he covered his mouth in desperation.
"You, Mera Arc, are leading over 4000 lives. Men and women who saw a future in the military and worked very, very hard to get where they stood today but who, in a period of just two hours, saw their dreams crushed; their weapons did not stop the wave of red-eyed darkness and their leader wasn't there to show hope still stands, so their wills were overcome. You have failed your soldiers, and now they are failing all the people of Patch! What is your defense?" The coldness of his eyes and the demand of his timbre announced that this wasn't a right or wrong question, but naked, inescapable statements. The leader failed, the soldiers next, and now the common people pay the bitter price.
Anakin expected many answers in respective to his last question, one that he asked numerous other generals, colonels, senators, and even Jedi throughout his time waging a war against dead metal, and the silence she maintained seriously made a glimmer of hope shine within him; was she thinking, was she noticing her mistakes?... But then the Force clanged with selfishness and further saturated the blackness of feelings that isolated them, he knew he would receive the same old, nefarious answer;
"Don't you realize the situation we are in? Try to do so before you point your finger at me! It's not my fault that these men don't follow my commands as they were taught during these years of training, this Operation is beyond the control of any—" That was enough. One, two, three quick steps, and the sound that echoed overlapped the gunfire, fire, and death.
SLAP
With the back of his hand, Anakin slapped the woman hard when he stopped before her in his full menacing height, a monolith of black and blonde after the rigid flesh had tore bits of skin from her face and left behind a tensed red mark that exuded pain in small amounts, for what reigned supreme was the self-shame mixed with that induced by the Force, an easy technique that worked like Force Terror. Soldiers stared wide-eyed, logistics people tried to ignore, and curious eyes watched with morbidity the misery that those who were supposed to protect them descended upon, all covered by the cloak of hopelessness.
One of the Atlassian soldiers who came with the cold-ice woman nudged her in the side; "Ma'am, shouldn't we be doing something about this?" the man asked. A flick of her hand denied him, the Force around her whispering about an unusual amusement at the situation, curiosity, and haste all impressively controlled under a neutral facade. Anakin paid no attention beyond that, preferring to stare into the eyes of the woman who, without much difficulty, recovered from the slap and now stared at him with an exceptional mixture of the previously mentioned emotions.
"HAVE MORE RESPECT! For the lives lost, for the tears that will be shed, and for every bullet shell that defended your life tonight! I have seen people like you, far more than I am proud to admit! How uneven you are of reality, seeing numbers on that damn table as opposed to people defending what they love, the very lifestyle of millions! You are not the top of the chain, you are the bottom; if you fall, everyone falls with you... and you've brought it to yourself alone." He shouted hard and iron, finger between the woman's wide-open eyes, fury begging her to strike back more than ever, silenced by the dark threads of the Force.
For Anakin was almost at the limit of his fury.
Lives are on the front line and not only does she not take responsibility for those who fall, but she denigrates their journeys thus far, their hardships, and their struggles! How can someone wear bloody medals and act as if the battlefield is a chessboard?!
... So many he met thought the same way about clones, that they saw the war only from above. It seems that even in Remnant this kind of illusion does not change.
Ignoring the latent desire to keep screaming in her face and, above that, the one that lusted to crush her thin, fragile windpipe, Anakin decided that there was nothing else to do if all the response she could give to his statements were angry looks and poorly constructed words, her whole body trembling with agony. His intention in coming here was to help, to help turn the tables and bring victory to humanity, as they so richly deserve.
But this is no longer the case now.
"I am taking full control of this Military Operation with testimony of your express failures." He spoke loudly and surely, in a lower tone, but one that carried as much impact as his passionate shouts. Turning his back on the leader in a definitive gesture that she was no longer worth his attention, the Jedi focused upon the holographic table and swiftly began to memorizing every point and every function, the map of the city already enshrined in his mind joining the knowledge of a lifetime to create a plan good enough to save this city—he also brought up his scroll and sent a message to Blake.
"What?! B-But, I—" Terror consumed her mind, shamed her confidence. Little by little he killed her will; the fire that rose high in the city, the death cries of patients being induced into rushed surgeries without the necessary amount of inhibitors; the tears of those weeping over bloodied husks...
SKRAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
And the winged Ancient Grimm who wasn't killed yet, but that was killing in batches, still swimming in the darkness of the starless sky. All this hellish landscape and undeniable facts added up to his words, the expectations that were finally weighing their tons on her shoulders building a hopeless feeling that brought tears to the eyes of a military leader. Deplorable.
"Go run to the office of anyone willing to send reinforcements to this city of poor devils; kiss their feet if necessary, you left us looking right into the abyss and we need every help we can get." Anakin did his best not to make eye contact, her eyes racing to the white-haired one for any help, any reassurance, but there was no harvest in those Caito-Neimoidian sapphires. Unsupported and with her mind worn to its extreme by the influence of the dark side and the disaster that Operation Black March, if he'd read right, has been, the leader turned shakily and marched funereally toward a vertibird, muttering into the roof of her mouth;
"There will be return..."
Anakin ignored it, he needed; just one for may... he repeated in his mind in an effort as to not feel guilty. He had 4000 military lives under his belt to worry about the effects of his actions on one.
"Spread the news of the leadership change immediately, all channels, exact words: Gm. Skywalker, blond and carrying a sword of blue light, took reins of the Operation Black March." His words echoed loudly and the Force demanded action, no man or woman questioning the results of this military disgrace that had just occurred. "Reorganize the danger areas at these exact coordinates." With a single swift hand and following the Force's instructions to do what was right even though he did not fully understand all the words and symbols yet, the Jedi marked with surgical precision the rigorous coordinates he had deciphered in his mind. "The division of resources and labor will be reshaped and must be followed to the letter, speed and efficiency will be prized—Blake, report." Suddenly, with a wave of his hand, the faunus girl appeared in the span of half a blink, leaping from the top of the building.
"The Ancient Nevermore is moving south, where the soldiers are retreating and the defenses are weaker." Anakin smiled internally at the speed of hers, even if the information about the Nevermore irritated him greatly and built a chill in his stomach... A Grimm so smart as to know which areas to attack and which not? At least the point of the sudden appearance of Blake came through, everything speeding up in the face of a physical example of efficiency, speed, and responsibility.
"Great. I'm sending you with the next team of Vertibirds to chase this Grimm and bring him to the far north, here." He not only pointed out where the Vertibirds team was waiting for the mission to begin, but where it had to take the Ancient Grimm. His clear and quick instructions were picked up easily by the logistics personnel who, using knowledge cultivated by years and the Force speeding their thoughts, undertook the missions to their respective places with mastery. "I leave with you the mission procedure—"
"Gm. Skywalker, the... the—" The logistics leader, he imagines, approached with an apprehensive look and no methodic confidence on how to deliver information, confused still by the unexpected change in leadership. That was arranged by induction of courage through the Force, solving the man's problem whom, swallowing dryly, approached with the hard-earned data... He ignored with a minimal jerk smile the fact that all Force Techniques he had used tonight would end in great punishment by the Jedi Council. "The huntsmen are having trouble in the immediate danger sector, recent reports say that the Grimm are ceasing to converge... and are spreading out, over 36% of them are coming here!" Patiently, Anakin waited for the man to finish giving all the data and made sure everything was spoken, one of the most important skills he attained in his time as a General. With everything on track, his raspy voice bettered by the Force and quick fingers began to draw lines on Patch's map and spread their purposes, lines that were shared with the rest of the team to deliver them to their respective recipients.
"Have the huntsmen fall back and stop as much of the Grimm advance as they can from here to here; all troops must fall back to this area of the Summer River." He pointed to a river channel almost in the middle of the remaining orange sector, a great spot to hold a powerful defense. "Have them hold a front immediately, there will be enough time gained by the huntsmen for that to be possible. Supply lines?" As the man beside him searched fervently for the newer reports and read them in a hurry, Anakin responded in the same coin by following attentively the changes that his few quick and precise instructions formed on the map. The slowness of the soldiers and their dispersion was a problem he considered a majority, the next on his to-do list.
"The lines are normalizing due to the lack of blockades of soldiers and vehicles in the new coordinates, sir! The next shipment is due in six minutes!" The small note of hope in that man's voice was all the answer needed to see how everything was changing.
Within 25 minutes where Anakin didn't stop commanding the troops or talking for a mere second, things were already flourishing. Blake was sending constant reports of the whereabouts of the Grimm he discovered to be an 'Ancient'—or for laymen like himself, stronger than the others—, the reinforced areas and powerful division of resources created exactly what the Grand Republic General envisioned: a wall of men to keep the Grimm from advancing to the area of least danger. The skies were the perfect vanguard, just enough ships chasing the winged Grimms and preventing choking air traffic, as it had been until then under the other leader's control; the hunters were organizing more effectively and many fewer names were added to the big "KIA" list, Qrow and Tai's name thankfully not being there.
What was once a lost operation and a doomed town, was now a town that was resisting the threat and fighting with everything they had.
Winter noted the changes with a certain interest.
She noticed the soldiers moving faster on the holographic table according to the incoming information, tacit and cold intelligence behind every word spoken, also remarking how the man standing there, tall and strong, inspired the others to follow him... But not quite like James who needed only his presence and few words to command respect in a room. Anakin Skywalker led with comprehensive vocabulary that even the simplest man could understand, unfolding the battlefield in seconds and opening it for all to see and understand as he did; he listened, he explained, and responded with maximum efficiency, there respect arose.
... It was as if the man understood every aspect of what was going on around him on a much personal level; the one fighting, the one listening, and the one commanding. It was mesmerizing and inspiring, indeed.
The Ice Queen's blue eyes sharpened a little as she saw him silencing himself, a lingering breath that the black cloak hid well from those watching, but not from her. There were times when James' prosthetic arm was cumbersome to the point of being impossible to use—most of the time when they visited Vacuo—, so the trick he preferred was to wear a cape to hide his lack of an arm; they don't need to see my weaknesses, only my strength, were his words. Add that to the few drops of blood that fell in the darkness of the night, and it was pretty clear that Skywalker was not in his best lights. Seeing that this was finally the golden moment to interfere, considering the silence and the suffered normalization of the operation, Winter approached with her hands back and a tall stance, all her pride as the Right Hand of the Atlas Army shining in her eyes.
"I'm afraid we haven't introduced ourselves yet." Her attempt to get his attention worked, pale neck bending back a little so she could face him in the eyes. "I am Winter Schnee, Atlassian Admiral, Right Hand of General of Army James Ironwood. It's a pleasure." Anakin stared her up and down with vacant eyes, ignoring Schnee's stunning beauty in favor of the name she carried. Not only was she somehow related to the most powerful company in the world, but she also had a high name in the navy of the most estimated army in the world. Hatred for the company was the easiest part to put aside, how many times had he done that in his career with kaminoans and the Kuat Drive Yards? What was not easy to not question is why a VIP is parked in the middle of nowhere during the biggest Grimm attack ever seen in Patch.
He also mentally slapped himself once again for never researching the military hierarchy of Remnant. Calling himself a General of the Army would sound odd face to face with the right hand of one.
"Anakin Skywalker, Generalfeldmarschall of Republica." The two quick blinks she gave made clear her unfamiliarity with the term. "A kingdom off of Remnant's map, I'll give you the details for your report later. And don't worry..." Before she could comment on anything, Anakin pulled out of one of his pockets beneath the black cloak a white laminated card, a smug smile on his lips. "I'm not a spy." Covering her surprise was difficult for the Schnee, considering not only that he had read her mind, but that he had personal contact with Ironwood somehow. That would definitely go into her report, as it appears she had found the 'someone' James mentioned.
With the card back in his pocket, Anakin waited patiently for her to leave him alone or, more plausible, continue to speak, all while with a frown creased in his forehead as he looked at the map in front of him.
It's almost time...
"I've never heard of this country so-called 'Republica'."
"That's why it's not on Remnant's map."
"Okay, well... Then I must ask, who was that girl just now?" Winter remembers seeing her helping people earlier, knowing now that she was some kind of scout was a shameful mark on her more than perfect record.
"Her name is Blake, a concerned citizen." She wouldn't believe that even if they forced her. No mere citizen has an Aura, reaches such speed, and still has a Semblance, the latter being a shoot in the dark on her part, her skeptical gaze well hidden behind cold indifference, the trademark of the Ice Queen.
"I have strongly to doubt about that statement—"
"Good, shut up then."
... What?!
He ... told her to shut up?
He told her to fucking shut up! Further back, the three Atlassian soldiers of Winter's company were whispering bets on how long it would take her to rip his head off.
Luckily for him—very luckily, actually—Winter has an extensive past of dealing with buffoons that say the wrong things at the worst times, so she just closed her eyes, brought her composure high and rigid, and when she opened her eyelids and thus freed her icy sapphires capable of tearing graphene, she was ready to destroy him with words sharp as her saber... or she would, of course, if Anakin were still there.
"I am leaving you in charge. I will deliver information periodically and expect return just as soon as possible over the communicator." As he said this to the logistics leader who was rightly shaking in his own shoes and a moment away from passing out, the Generalfeldmarschall whatever that means was putting a small device in his ear. "Let all soldiers know that I'm gonna appear in the lines on the northern front within 10-15 minutes, I will tell you how to proceed depending on the situation. May the Force be with you."
And before the man could say anything else, a metal cylinder flew from inside the cloak into Anakin's left hand, a blade of pure blue light illuminating the night... And then he leaped higher than anyone she had ever seen in her life, literally going from dead ground to the roof of one of the nearby buildings, landing with a gracefulness worthy of a Schnee... If she'd listened correctly, onward to the northern front, where hundreds of soldiers were fighting thousands of Grimm—! Why the hell was she standing here eating flies?! Turning to her men, her harsh voice of command was crystal clear.
"Hold your position here, let me know of anything that proceeds!" The three men stared at each other with no idea what to say, frozen with the sudden orders. "DID YOU HEAR ME?!"
"Yes, ma'am!"
And, with a quick glyph under her feet, Winter Schnee took off in the direction of that madman. What the hell does he think he was going to do on the front lines, with a sword of all things?! And that insolence, telling her to shut up! She hated anyone who had that attitude around her... And he was astonishingly fast, especially for someone who was hiding a lame leg. It took almost twenty whole seconds for her to catch up to him, stunts in the air always prizing speed, any of the few Grimm that got past the impressive line of defense he had created in the last 30 minutes being eliminated spectacularly.
She had never seen such subtlety with a sword as in that man, a style so unique and so incredible that it stole her breath away. It wasn't something that perpetuated much, considering they were soon standing next to each other jumping through the buildings, Anakin just giving her a corner glance before continuing at the same speed, a note of frustration exhaled out of the Ice Queen as she understood that gesture; 'I don't have time to spend with you.'
"What do you think you're doing?" She shouted, glyphs below her feet as she crossed the distance from one building to the other, almost 14 meters that he simply traversed with a whirling leap forward like a bloody torpedo. "Leaving your command station is idiotic beyond measure and a massive hypocrisy to your words earlier!"
Instead of answering her, he placed his hand on the communicator in his ear.
...
"Did you by any chance heard me?!"
"I did." He retorted.
"The rudeness! Then why didn't you answer me?!"
"Because it was a dumb question." Swinging his lightsaber and rolling across the ground, Anakin dodged the claws of a Nevermore much smaller than the Ancient that crisscrossed Patch's skies, already rising from the ground to slice off the creature's leg... the headless creature, an impressive clean cut by the white-haired woman that gracefully landed besides him, the Force circling her screaming over a cold fury deep beneath that perfect skin.
"Look here, boy." The weapon was held low as she crossed the distance between them with powerful, weight-filled steps, centimeters away from coming face to face. "I don't know who you are and the only thing keeping me from having you behind bars for multiple direct and indirect infractions is the piece of metal you have in your pockets. Nevertheless, all that is enough is an exhaustive long report from me and I swear to you, just being able to see the Sun will be a gift! Now... You started our interactions left-footed, so I'll be demanding respect and answers to any and every question I have, no mocking jokes or humorous jests. Am I clear?"
He could cross his arms, he could lift his chin, he could make any move now that it just doesn't matter anymore. Anyone on the other side of her glacial words always ends submitting to the overwhelming power of her name and hard-earned achievements, all the speechcraft acquired through years of dealing with the petulant upper class of Atlas just confirming, even more, the power behind her words.
She would never tolerate a spoiled brat gifted to disrespect her like that.
...!
He brought his face closer to hers, what was he—
"Try me, Winter Schnee." It was said in a husky voice, face hard and eyes cloudless of any fear she imagined she had put in with her words...
Simple words, a twist of his body, the black cape whipping the concrete floor in front of her, and, easy as that, Anakin Skywalker continued on his way to the Northern Frontier without looking back.
And there she was, the Ice Queen, frozen solid.
It took a lot out of her to not, simply, advance with her saber and settle this outrage with a sword fight. She was much bigger and much better than that troglodyte behavior! Anyways, it's not like she's got affected by it! Other aristocrats have said the same things to her hundreds of other times... but always behind monitors, through text, never looking straight in her eyes... To have her authority so easily denied, all the esteem she'd earned in years of pure hard work and effort to go beyond her family name and have one for herself disrespected by someone she'd never heard of but who thinks it's protected from everything just by having James' high-level secret contact? It was humiliating!
And by Dust, she wasn't going to let that go cheap.
But not now, not yet.
Taking a deep breath once and twice, storing up her anger at this man deep within, Winter was soon on the move with all the grace of her training, taking more than five minutes now to cross the entire distance Jerkwalker had put between the two of them, the only thing keeping her in the way being the blade of light that stood out like a firefly in the night.
By the time she reached him a second time, they were already at the Northern Front, the Summer River always so beautiful this time of year after the rainy season... Now, a horrendous scenario. On one side, dozens of soldiers entrenched themselves behind stone ledges, banks, stores, alleys, tops of buildings and vehicles, rudimentary medical care and communication posts among the wreckage struggling to keep relaying information; ammo distribution to the mounted heavy machineguns that constantly bombarded like a waterfall on rocks the living mass of darkness that came from the other side of the city, advancing through water or across the stone bridges that were until then a much visited tourist spot. A line of men and women stretched for three kilometers, clumping together like skin cells that protected their way of life from these viruses. There was so much blood, so much death, so many screams, thick black smoke rising following the mortars and grenades, constantly unloading of at least 500 light submachine guns, the most regular weapon seen in these units, making the very air around her ears sizzle. What a hellish sight.
And yet there he was, Anakin Skywalker, watching it all with cold, precise eyes, hardly affected by all that was happening before his eyes... she could easily cherish such trait; she never got used to this kind of scenario, unlike James.
"Well, here you are... What do you intend to do now?" She crossed her arms as she stopped beside him, getting a much fairer and dark view of what used to be such a beautiful and bubbling business district, a note of distaste, remnants of the little exchange they had, behind her eyes that mixed with serious curiosity. Even she couldn't do much in a scenario like this one; she'd get in front of the bullets, confuse the soldiers with her speed and be a general nuisance.
And... Wow.
She expected many things from him now; a cold comment, being ignored, or a clever plan made by a tactical warfare master.
What she got were a 100% thick-witted smile and cynical eyes.
"Bring victory to those warriors there below." And, with the lightsaber on, Anakin leaped from the top of the building into the chaos.
…
…
What the ever-living heck is this man?!
[specialty.]
The retreat to the channel was, perhaps, what saved them.
Dust bless the sudden change of leadership they received for, if things continued as they were, the GAR-105th Battalion would be one of many that fell in this battle against the creatures of Grimm. With watchful eyes on the Scout positioned on one of Renmé's windows, the always overpriced clothing store, she waited patiently and with her heart at the top of her throat for the signal—! There it was! In sync with five others of her same unit, she rose from behind the cover made by a downed tree and hurled the grenade with all her might in the Grimm who were tearing all the defenses on the bridges as if they were paper-mate. The dust grenades flew through the air exactly into a particularly big gap that had been opened in the defense when Unit SixSevenNine fell by the paws of four especially voracious Major Ursas, a chain of explosions sending black bits and blood into the sky with excess light and sound...
More were coming.
... However...
The Grimm's advance had suddenly been stopped. It was abrupt and alien, puzzled eyes falling on the struggling Grimms that slowly ascended into the air, nearly thirty of the creatures being lifted by an unseen force—
Just as abruptly, she felt an intense desire to get out of the way, her bat genealogy screaming that the oddly loud sounds of footsteps behind her exuded naked and raw threat, the likes of a predator who could clear her remaining wing and her head at the same time without any difficulty... And she got out of the way as Maine near her had done too, a figure shrouded in darkness passing through the small gap with a nonchalant attitude, as if the mountainous loads of Grimm just ahead meant nothing.
The blue light sword in his hand definitely drew attention.
As several other soldiers stood out of his way in silence, always hypnotized or scared by the Sun Sword, more Grimm were lifted into the air in a frenzied display of power, ending with the entire 105th battalion watching with shock and cold bliss as that man stopped in front of the floating and choking... wall of Grimm, the advance of the others completely blocked by the shield of monsters that rose and covered the main transverse points.
A wall of Grimm to prevent Grimm from advancing.
Just thinking about it was an absurd idea... But it was happening right here, right now.
"Men and women under my sacred duty of war." The voice was deep, the voice was loud and literally commanded authority behind every syllable, a mysterious force in the air deepening the pitch to the level that it muffled the Grimm's screams, gunshots, and bombs. "I am Generalfeldmarschall Anakin Skywalker, and today I got the honor of leading your noblest efforts to defend the country we all call home! I am here on the front lines to lead the advance into Summer Forest and close the perimeter, cutting off the advance of these monsters farther in the city!" Every soldier heard his voice and everyone understood exactly what he wanted... It was abysmal of how clear every bit of information sounded in the mess of the battlefield. "The 105th battalion is to come with me, the 122nd and 732th will hold the position. We leave immediately."
And without glancing at the Grimm wall behind him, eyes always on the soldiers and never turning away, Anakin launched the creatures backwards with all the might of a cannon, hitting those who were trying to get through the wall and smashing them against the concrete, either of the ground or the buildings, massive blood explosions with each creature killed and pressed against the other behind it. It was like watching someone smash together violently dozens of layers of play-dough... It was beautiful, satisfying even.
It took a while, maybe two seconds, for the hypnotized gazes to drop and reality to snap, the horde mentality taking over as, in a rush, the 105th Battalion began to retreat in haste, the others from 122 and 732 taking over the front lines under the intense eyes of the Generalfeldmarschall, the mere presence of the guy swinging that sword of legends, predicting where every Grimm would even appear, speeding up the whole process of packing and move out, that dark, heavy feeling of hopelessness that half of Operation Black March carried being quickly replaced by one of... Pride.
Pride that their country, that their military branch, had someone like Anakin Skywalker to turn the tide of battle, to descend from that Ivory Tower where most warfare leaders sit and come here and fight side by side with the common forces, like way back in those silly exaggerated religious folktales her mother used to tell and... Holy, it is scary how precise the tales sound when it comes to the Gene... Generalfeldmarschall, yes, that; the sword, the appearance, the power to bend reality...
... No, no, no. What the fuck is she thinking?! She's on an fucking battlefield, why is she thinking about—
"Enemy from the east, from the east!" A shout echoed through the crowd and her pointy ears twitched, a gap in the defense layers showing through several Ursas running at full speed out of the alleys, much madder than ever after blood and death.
"Get into the vehicles right away, those nearest to the east hold the breach!" The leader shouted and was the first to start the defense, his Sun Sword spinning and shining like a beacon amidst blood, soot, and death. She was too far south, and blasting her Ar-15 in the middle of her comrades is a very effective way to go to Martial Court, so she just took off in the direction of one of the many trucks speeding off to the next stop—one of the last trucks, everyone in the east using the time that Generalfeldmarschall and Winter Schnee, who just materialized out of thin air, bought while killing the Grimms to get on the trucks.
There was a loud whistle overlapping everything after everyone had already climbed into a truck, the rapid movement of the engines and the world becoming a blur around the open bucket—so they could shoot the uglies—being a goddamn needed gulp of water. The Generalfeldmarschall and Winter jumped from the streets to the truck next to this one with some fancy Aura tricks, the streets wide enough for just two to run at the same time... But she didn't think much about it, there were Grimm following the trucks. Pulling the safety on her gun and approaching the bucket's gate, she was about to join the others to shoot the beasts.
However, she ducked just as the truck made a sharp turn.
Bad move.
Her first instinct upon being thrown violently out of the bucket was to fly. She has done this for 26 whole years, it is her nature to try to overcome the air current in this kind of situation...
But the last attack in the SDC Warehouse she had lost one of her wings, tore from her by someone of her own race, which guaranteed nothing but a vicious roll against the street concrete, arms around her head and outstretched body preventing any serious trauma. She survived the fall like any other trained soldier would have, but it did surprise no one that Yin Chiro won't be there to receive her payment at the end of the month.
She heard someone shouting her name, but her focus was on the mass of pitch black and red flares coming towards her, the sheer cold embrace of the waters and infinite darkness of Miyo more and more tangible the closer the monsters came.
"What are you doing?!" A female voice shouted much further back, stifled by the sounds of the bloodthirsty Grimms and the tires of the trucks.
... Why did she pay attention to that voice anyway?
"No one gets left behind!"
And then the Sun cleansed the incoming darkness with point stars as teeth, splitting its skull into two simmering red blobs that bleed. Another tried to come and take her to the land of the dead, but the Sun rend its arm off and soon after its neck. Another tried the same, a similar result. And another.
And another. And another.
Dozens of Kaiyo circled her and the Sun, but the overwhelming pressure prevented any of the creatures from advancing, buying enough time for him to, with a flick of the hand that held the stars in a cylinder fashion, launch something at her; her Ar-15.
... This is reality, not a folk tale.
"Fight for your life, soldier!" Generalfeldmarschall Skywalker's voice was loud and clear, all command as his blue oceans met the big, black eyes of the faunus woman.
And she obeyed immediately.
For ten whole seconds that felt on her skin like an eternity, Generalfeldmarschall Skywalker spun the Sun Sword and lacerated the masses of Grimm, not only predicting the future, but every move he made seemed intimate with those of the Beowolves, Deathstalkers, and Ursas... It was as if he knew and understood every move the monstrosities were going to make and responded with the best and most precise of cleaves. It felt more like a movie scene, a ritualistic dance than the intense and gory reality before her, her finger on the trigger at all times, dust bullets exploding and blowing the Grimm away, hardly any effect compared to the Generalfeldmarschall's work of art.
Soon like the Infinite Cycle, an icy atmosphere joined the whole thing, quick, violent movements dealing with the Grimm with infinite grace; one golden blur mixed with the light blue and all the scorching light of the midday sky, the other a cold white, painted with millions of stars at every snowflake that enveloped her like a queen, the Sun and the Moon and—
"Get to the truck, soldier, now!" Generalfeldmarschall Skywalker shouted at her, and it took almost two whole moments for her to realize that the truck the Generalfeldmarschall and Schnee were on had stopped, the soldiers inside shooting at the Grimms who were trying to approach from the sides, something that brought her heart to the top of her mouth. Right by the next moment, she was running full out toward the truck, raising her hand for anyone to pull her up as fast as possible, the two Aura users coming running further behind with the increasing number of Grimm that the change of command in the defense areas had let slip. "Go, go, go!" And then Generalfeldmarschall jumped after repeatedly shouting, rolling over the roof of the truck and keeping himself there, Schnee using black glyphs to propel herself to the same place.
And then the truck was speeding again, and the Grimm were dying faster than others were taking their places and...
Holy shit. She was alive.
"Fuck off man... Gene-something risked his life for yours." One of the soldiers near her commented, wide-eyed and certainly dumbfounded by this bizarre action.
"Yes... He did." But most of all, those embers in her heart of pride and hope, such tiny embers...
Had turned into a bonfire, the same with several others around her.
On the other side of the coin, a gasping, wide-eyed Anakin was trying to catch his breath as fast as he could, eyes locked with Winter's blue ones that mirrored a condition very similar to his own.
"That what you did...that was perhaps the dumbest thing I've ever seen in my entire life!" The Atlassian woman cried out, a deep frown accompanied by a strange feeling of confusion and frustration hovering over the Force encompassing her. Just in case, he had checked intensely to see if she had any Force sensitivity, and to his great surprise... Nope. She was normal, just Aura. One woman with Aura he'd met around here who wasn't Force Sensitive, killing his theory that they all were.
Thanks, Great Kryat of the Desert. He surely isn't mentally prepared for more of them.
Smiling smugly, he stowed the disconnected lightsaber inside his black cloak.
"Pleasure, name's Anakin Skywalker."
"What?"
"... What 'what'?"
"I didn't understand the purpose of what you said, you just introduced yourself again." He watched her incredulously, the seriousness in her raised eyebrows showing that no, she wasn't mocking his joke. Charming for her personality, but still...
Well, he had more important things to worry about.
"Keep following me around and you might understand." Putting his finger on the communicator, Anakin replayed all the messages he had missed in the last three minutes of inactivity, Winter rolling her eyes in frustration as she approached him, her absolute balance control keeping her from falling during the turns and rocks on the road, the cold anxiousness of the mass of Grimm following them and in the skies—
SKRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
—the Ancient Nevermore somewhere in the darkness bringing her resolution. She had been in similar situations a thousand times before, she could go on... and, as much as the man in front of her was the arbitrary towering mountain of impertinence, recklessness, and plain disrespect, she could swallow—save for later—the intense anger she had of him and see the wide range of zenith-enhanced talents he owned. The classic jackass who knows what he's doing a little bit too well, she hates that archetype.
"Tsc..." He let out a small hint of his own frustration, Winter's blue gaze over him, arms crossed in a neutral but prepared pose.
"What now?"
"The Ancient Nevermore is coming here sooner than I imagined... We may have to set up the perimeter while we fight it." It didn't take much elaboration for the Atlassian woman to understand how disastrous this scenario could be, eyes curious as she watched the Generalfeldmarschall slowly close his eyes, take a deep breath, and... period. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
... Was he meditating? On top of a truck at 80kmph(50mph), surrounded by high-caliber weapons and the screams of the creatures of darkness?
Her curiosity reached a new level when he was suddenly smiling... She really didn't like looking at the smiling face, it made her want to punch the smugness out of him. On Anakin's part, who will wisely ignore the Ice Queen's most violent thoughts, the smile came from the answer the Force gave him during his meditation—something that has become much easier since that conversation with Ada... He really should have done this before.
Pulling out his Scroll, he searched and easily found Tai Xiao-long's number, the little metal tablet beeping a pleasant little tune while the Jedi awaited any answer anxiously, Winter just observing everything and making notes for her report.
"Anakin?! Why are you calling me on this—"
"Is that Anakin?!" Ruby's voice in the background was easily recognizable and a mad comfort for him. His mind focused solely on war hardly leaves space for the most mundane of thoughts, considering that, during the war, he heard Padmé's voice more in his dreams than in real life...
He swallowed the pain with a slow sigh. She is happy living her life with a worthy man, it's none of his business anymore.
"Tai, is Qrow with you out there?" The slight silence denoted confusion at this question, but the answer was one that the Force had answered earlier.
"Yes, and why—Anakin, what the hell is going on there in the city?! The Huntsmen have barely responded for the last forty minutes and-"
"Anakin, I managed to kill ten Beowolfes with one shot! You owe me three cooki—"
"Rubes, pay the damn attention! There's more coming from the south—arg, ugly motherfucker! Go back to the ditch you came from—!"
"Tai—"
"By the Dust, she blew his head off with one punch! Nice one, Yang!"
"Tai, send Qrow to these coordinates that I will pass on to you immediately, he is the closest Huntsmen to my position and the only one who will arrive on time! Do you hear me? Tai?!"
"Yes, I heard you!"
"AAAAAAHH, IT'S IN MY HAIR!"
"Good. Skywalker out."
As soon as the Jedi put the Scroll away with a smile, all that greeted him was a Winter not only curious but astonished by his unofficial, let alone unprofessional, conversation.
"...The Huntsmen stayed in the areas of greatest danger to assist the efforts of the defenses, but Qrow Branwen disregarded my orders and went looking for Tai and the girls. Lucky for us, his defiance of the chain of command gives us another powerful ally in the inevitable fight against the Ancient Nevermore." He preferred to explain that point rather than the other more difficult one, noting the Force around her swaying with some disgust at having Qrow's name mentioned. He really hopes that any back story they have doesn't get in the way of the mission.
"Great, as if one cocky jerk wasn't enough already…"
Anakin ignored this, a victorious smile on his face as he jumped out of the truck that had suddenly stopped, not even a tenth of the number of Grimm following them by now.
As the soldiers descended with speed and put down the protocols on tracks—assembling heavy machine guns; splitting up supplies; reloading magazines; rigorous medical checks; various teams of five to eight men splitting up to scout the surroundings and eliminate threats—, the Jedi settled down to answer messages and send orders to the logistics center, Winter watching everything from beside him, doing her best to hide the bitter admiration.
He knew that this little peace on the battlefield would not last long, Blake's latest report proving far from promising—
However, his attention momentarily left his duties as Generalfeldmarschall when the Force touched him gently in the side, his eyes running to the source of the feeling and... There was that soldier he had saved earlier, tense and with her arm in a sling, approaching him with an indecisive step. Whatever she intended to do, he decided to give her a drink of confidence through the Force to spare her the agony of simply walking straight past him.
"Generalfeldmarschall Skywalker, sir..." She stopped by his front, tense as a Shiny... Well, that's his territory. Smiling arrogantly, he crossed his arms and looked into her eyes.
"I'm listening..."
"Corporal Y-Yin Chiro, sir!"
...
"And what do you want, Corporal Chiro?" he asked after her intense moment of silence, surely not used to his kind of leadership. Seriously, how were these soldiers being trained here in Vale? If a girl with this attitude showed up under Obi-wan's command, she would become ground meat in the 212th within a week!
"S-Sir, I'm sorry, sir! I... I just wanted to thank you for saving my life, sir!"
It was on the tip of his tongue to say the simple answer he gave to any clones who came to him and thanked him for saving their lives and keep them in the good fight... But the Force, out of the blue, picked up something jumping from her besides doubtful admiration and a heartbeat on the highs, something from within those big, tired black eyes that were repeated en masse across the ranks here; few words, simple words... "I wouldn't expect a human to save a faunus."
That...
No. No, no, no...
It may be temporary, but he is the boss here and now. He won't accept any of this bantha poodoo. Now and never.
"Did you expect me not to because you are a faunus and I am a human?" He asked dryly and promptly, Winter's gaze gaining a note of surprise at the disconnected words and the intense look that took over his blue eyes, no drop of playfulness or lightness that he was carrying until then. The faunus got instantly frozen in tension, words not coming out as the confusion at being caught at something she had hidden so deeply came out so nakedly. "Am I right or am I wrong, Corporal Yin Chiro?" The tone of command, of demand, obliged answers and charged the truth, all now.
"I, sir... It's what... well, I guess so, sir?..." The difficulty with which the words came out was nothing more than a testament to how profound she had to bury such feelings. "I'm so sorry, Gen-eralmarschallfel-d Skywalker, t-that was really insensitive in the face of what you did for me and—"
Her apology was silenced immediately by a hand on her shoulder.
"I'll be back." As quickly as those words, Anakin set himself in motion, so determined and sure of himself in every single step that soon he pulled the attention of the most inattentive eyes with rather ease, the Force helping in the most superficial degree. Seconds later, as he leaped into the air and landed under the roof of one of the trucks, all 114 pairs of eyes, tired and strained from a war that had reached its third hour, but weighed on them like the end of the world, were over him.
There was dead silence first: They need to drink from your presence before they taste your words. It was one of the things Palpatine hammered wisely into his head.
Much of what the good man said will also be applied to the words he shall utter, words he forged on the scorching blazes of the battlefield in the Clone Wars and in that of his life. His lungs filled with air, the canvas of tension and curiosity hung over his soldiers. And then:
"Sheev Palpatine!" Like a thunder. "That is the name of the man who, from my childhood, raised me and taught me everything about most of what I know today! He entrusted his wisdom and his time on me, so scarce at his old age, in the hopes that I would make a difference in the future... For today I am making that difference! Today, I saved Yin Chiro's life when she fell off a truck. And just a few moments ago, she came to thank me... And do you know what she said to me? Can you fathom it?!" No one said anything, no one could have said anything. They waited patiently for the answer. "Being a faunus, she didn't expect a human to save her from the Grimm's clutches!"
Some eyes ran around, small conversations were sailed, and the dark feeling that came from the woman next to Winter so incredulous and betrayed and full of shame disgusted him. No... things aren't gonna be like this, not with him here. He wasn't just trained in one side of war, even if most of what he uses comes from Palpatine. Obi-wan taught him how to speak, Padmé how to inspire people...
Now it's due time to use everything he knows.
The conversations sank after his next words.
"THERE IS NO PRIDE IN THAT! NOT A SINGLE BIT OF IT! To have a soldier beneath my command, to expect their life to be thrown away as cannon fodder, a used battery, just because of the way they were born, when they chose and exchanged the innuendos of life to be here fighting for everything that they know to be true and believe in?! I AM NOT PROUD OF THAT!"
Their eyes, so tense and lost of hope, gained a strange glaze.
"I RISKED MY LIFE TODAY, I THREW MYSELF IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GRIMM, BECAUSE YOU DO THE SAME FOR ME AND FOR THE ONES I CARE! You unload your weapons, you save people, you protect the innocent from the Grimm and evil! Every day you are heroes, and today I paid you back in kind, even if just a small shard of this huge diamond! Sheev Palpatine trained me not to watch heroes die so that my plans could advance, so I could add terrain to my map and barge in on marble halls and speak of my conquests! Sheev Palpatine trained me so that every day breathing on this beautiful land you've created I could repay the enormous debt I owe to all the men and women who fight for me, for their homeland, for their families, for their friends!"
There was inspiration in the air, there were smiles... There were tears where there was shame and betrayal, sprouts adoration that went unseen.
"Faunus and humans are Grimm's prey, we are their victims! There is no distinction in the killing, just as there is no difference in the achievements you have accomplished today! They see us as one, so we must fight as one—AS PRIDEFUL CITIZENS OF VALE! We are men and women, humans and faunus with family and friends, but today, above all, we are the bricks of defense that glues together to create this wall that protects everything behind us! MANY WILL FALL, BUT MUCH MORE WILL LIVE ON! My name is Anakin Skywalker, and what I care about today is whether you heroes before me are marching into this war of your lives and are coming back to tell the stories to your grandchildren, mourn for your fallen friends, and receive all the glory that is rightfully yours!"
Everyone was at the apex now, their eyes shed tears and crazy smiles for the blood of a single enemy painted a work of art on their faces.
He then took a deep breath...
"ARE YOU READY TO KILL WITH ME?!"
"YES!" The sudden chorus was loud.
"ARE YOU READY TO DIE WITH ME?!"
"YES!" The chorus was deafening.
"SO... WE ARE READY TO WIN THIS WAR!"
"YESSS!" The chorus of raised light machineguns, shouts, hisses of gunfire practically nullified any other sound in the vicinity...
For that was the sound of victory. A single army, under a single flag.
An army thirsting for the victory that is rightfully theirs.
The army he pridefully commands.
First, I thought about using the Родина to parallel with Naboo, but I've come to the conclusion that german is easier to read :v. I will update eventually too some other insight, (read a review that seriously opened my eyes about giving deadlines. Thank u for the call-out!)
a little peek of the next chapter: "You seriously don't think that riding an Ancient Nevermore is the best way to kill it, right?"
thank u for your time, hope you show next time too!