- To Serve With Honor -
"Mister Arc, Miss Schnee; thank you for coming," Ozpin greeted with irritating alertness as he sipped from his iconic mug. "As before, I apologize for the late hour of this call; however, we have encountered a complication that cannot wait for morning to be addressed."
"Of course, Headmaster," Jaune replied, repressing the tiredness in his eyes by sheer force of will. 'Because no crisis can ever arise or be properly addressed during business hours,' he griped internally.
It was some small mercy that the whole Beacon faculty was present at this meeting for once; the edges of the office were lined with Glynda, Port, a green-haired man with large round glasses in a ruffled-up white shirt and black slacks - whom Jaune could only assume was Doctor Bartholomew Oobleck - three other instructors whom the Specialists had neither heard of, nor been introduced to; and finally, Doctor Grey, who was nearest to the elevator and currently slamming back an energy drink that Jaune knew was popular with soldiers the world around.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Ozpin set his mug on the desk and addressed the room with gravitas, "I've called you all here tonight because today, we have made an unfortunate discovery: Under present conditions, Initiation cannot proceed as planned."
A low murmur of surprise erupted from within the ranks of the faculty, and Jaune watched as Glynda pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head, muttering incomprehensibly under her breath.
"Why is that, Headmaster?" Winter finally interjected loudly.
"Because there aren't enough Grimm in the Emerald Forest," Glynda responded bluntly, her deadpan expression effectively communicating that, yes, as ridiculous as the statement was, she was being serious.
Being unfamiliar with Beacon's tradition for Initiation, Jaune desperately wanted to ask, 'How and why is that a problem?' Before he could express this, however, Winter pre-empted him with a more direct - and tactful - approach.
"How, pray tell, is that possible?" she asked, visibly suppressing a tic in her brow as she stared directly at the nonchalant Headmaster.
Port took a step forward. "As with anywhere on Remnant, Grimm are incredibly prevalent in the Emerald Forest on any given day," the mustachioed man began, his hands clasped behind his back as he rocked to and fro on his heels. "In order to make use of the forest as a training and initiation site, we have set up extensive video surveillance and motion tracking all across the area within the vicinity of Beacon's cliffs. Using this infrastructure, we are able to carefully monitor the numbers and movements of the Grimm within a given area.
"Prior to Initiation or any large-scale training activities, we contract a number of Beacon graduates and upper-year students, and use our data and active surveillance to coordinate search-and-destroy efforts to thin the numbers of Grimm to manageable levels that offer some level of assurance that no competent Initiate is likely to be cornered and overwhelmed by any significant number of the creatures."
"However," Glynda stepped forward and took over as Port stepped back, "Within the span of the week since our scheduled "Culling" took place, we have tracked the remaining Grimm and observed them moving out of the bounds of our surveillance net and failing to return. At this time, our estimates place the total number of remaining Grimm within our designated sector of the forest at somewhere between three and four dozen."
"Whereas our current batch of initiates numbers seventy-six," Ozpin finished.
"Have our on-the-ground surveillance efforts been able to determine what has happened to the Grimm that have slipped the net?" the man-who-Jaune-guessed-was-Oobleck asked so swiftly that Jaune almost didn't catch the question.
"The team that was dispatched two days ago was not able to find any concrete evidence of what precisely is responsible for this mass-migration," Glynda responded coolly, pushing her glasses up her nose with one finger. "However, the team leader did communicate to me that one of his team found signs that suggest someone was intentionally baiting the Grimm out of our sector to another part of the forest, and destroying them."
"Has the VDF been conducting exercises recently?" Doctor Grey asked immediately.
"No," Ozpin said flatly, "The Vale Headquarters commander vehemently denied any possibility of military exercises, planned or otherwise. The VDF's efforts in recent weeks have been centered exclusively on reinforcing the Kingdom's walls and neighboring settlements against attacks brought on by the current state of unrest."
"That being said, an additional team was dispatched to scout deeper into unmonitored territory to search for further evidence," Glynda started again, raising her tablet and swiping through what was presumably a report. She stood silent for a minute; and then, her lips curled into a frown, and her brows furrowed in concern and shock as her head snapped towards Ozpin.
"Their findings have indicated a concerted and well-armed exercise in eliminating the Grimm," she declared. "Monitoring devices set up by the previous team recorded explosions and gunfire that are consistent with documented sound patterns from Atlesian- and Mistrali-made military rifles and machine guns."
Jaune's eyes snapped open wide, and then his pulse stuttered as a cold hand of shock gripped his heart. "The White Fang have been culling the Grimm as a part of their drills," the words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them.
Every head in the room snapped towards him, and even Ozpin frowned at the prospect. "There are private military entities in Vale that occasionally conduct exercises outside of the Kingdom-" the Headmaster started, only to be cut off swiftly by Glynda.
"I asked the VPD to check take stock of the local PMCs two days ago," she said, "Seventy percent of all registered private military contractors have been scooped up by national and private corporations to augment their executive security details following the White Fang's publication of their list of targeted individuals.
"The other thirty percent consists almost entirely of a single PMC out of Mistral; and Chief Reagan personally assured me that his detectives were able to verify that the bulk of their forces are currently engaged in a Grimm suppression campaign for a major mining concern in Southern Sanus, several dozen kilometers southwest of Vale." Glynda lowered her tablet and shook her head. "The remaining contractors, registered or not, don't even make up enough of a fighting force to conduct exercises of the scale that our latest scouting party is suggesting."
"What reason would a group like the White Fang have to interfere in Beacon's affairs like this, though?" Port asked, his brows visibly furrowed and consternation in his voice.
"They don't have a motive," Jaune answered, stepping forward, "With the exception of Atlas, which actively contracts Huntsmen as military combatants, the Fang have a well-established doctrine of non-interference in Huntsman affairs. Mistral's sect has publicly stated on several occasions that Huntsmen and the Academies are universally beneficial to humans and Faunus alike; and the Menagerie sect, as well as its formal government, often make a concerted effort to attract human and Faunus Huntsmen alike for Kuo Kuana's defense forces.
"The Mantle sect, however, has a long-standing practice of baiting Grimm for their own style of "Initiation" for new recruits," he continued, looking around as he fell into lecture mode. "It's no secret that Grimm activity is rampant all across Solitas, and any and every armed force - be they insurgents, White Fang, corporations, or the military - has to be capable of defending their camps and interests against Grimm attacks. The Zealots have become disturbingly adept over the years at "Grimm baiting" - using unknown means to lure groups of Grimm towards a particular location. Depending on their goals, the Zealots then either lure a pack of them towards a strategic target, or they throw a unit of initiates led by a select few veteran fighters at the Grimm and keep engaging until the monsters are all dead or the unit is forced to retreat."
Winter folded her arms across her chest and rested her cheek in her cupped hand as she contemplated this. "If Taurus is implementing this practice in Vale, then it can only be to increase the general martial skill of the local sect's fighters."
"And he'd only be interested in doing so if he was buckling down to expand the scope or depth of his operations," Jaune concluded in a growl through gritted teeth. "He's making a long-term investment in the Vale chapter - trying to shape them into fighters more like his Mantle troops, rather than just using the locals to augment the Zealots in operations."
The room fell silent as the Beacon faculty looked between each other with uncertainty and concern, and Jaune and Winter stewed over this new development.
"While this is a disturbing development if true-" Ozpin finally spoke up - drawing a sideways glare and a small grimace from Jaune at the caveat, "-either way, the current state of affairs around the Emerald Forest does not lend itself to our usual mode of conducting Initiation." He picked up his mug and took a deep draw before continuing. "As such, we are in swift and dire need of an alternative solution, as we can ill-afford to cause the Initiates or the public undue concern by delaying."
"Do we have any gauge of the current state of the Grimm population in Forever Fall?" one of the unnamed instructors asked.
"Too significant for our established margin of risk," Ozpin shook his head. "Additionally, we would not be able to effectively monitor the candidates over the course of Initiation."
"We don't have the means or the time to organize transportation to any locations further afield," Glynda noted with a sigh. "We'll have to make use of Beacon's facilities."
"Bouts between randomly-generated teams?" Port suggested half-heartedly, "Winners pass, losers get recycled into another bracket until we hit a certain threshold?"
"Tournament-style combat would not be a fair or effective gauge of the students' full martial abilities," Ozpin sighed in turn. "Their Combat School transcripts are proof enough of their fighting abilities."
"What we need is a method of assessing their strategic and tactical acumen against opposition that they're liable to encounter in the Huntsman's modern battlefield," Oobleck declared succinctly.
Something clicked in Jaune's brain, and he looked over to Doctor Grey, who appeared to be on something resembling the same wavelength. The two looked to the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress.
"What are the limitations of the Academy's virtual training space?" Jaune asked seriously.
Glynda quirked a brow and closed her eyes briefly as she contemplated the question. "The simulation space can theoretically accommodate the current roster of candidates in separate sessions," she finally replied, pulling up her tablet and navigating through it to find a datasheet. "Our limiting factor is the computing power for the computer-generated opposition; the system can only handle rendering and controlling thirty to forty opponents at the time, possibly more in the case of pack- or swarm-type Grimm such as Beowulves, smaller Deathstalkers, and Nevermore."
"Can this limitation be bypassed by using human operators to control some of the opposition forces?" Grey pressed, confirming that he'd caught on to Jaune's train of thought.
"It would take over a dozen operators to effectively control enough opponents to challenge even a smaller group of candidates," Glynda said slowly; then her eyes widened in understanding as Jaune and Grey both grinned, and Winter's face fell into her hand.
"I might know a few guys who could do the job…" Jaune chuckled.
- To Serve With Honor -
"Sir, I'd like to state for the record that I think this is an awful and sadistic idea, and I am one hundred percent here for it," Corporal Zhao said with a grin as he stood behind Jaune and surveyed the control room below.
Beacon's state-of-the-art virtual reality training facilities consisted of the training floor itself - a massive gymnasium-sized space that was divided into VR "Dive Booths" and an Augmented Reality fighting ring that used hard light projectors and advanced training drones - and a control booth that resembled a military command-control-communications center. Over thirty stations were arranged in three tiers that sloped down to a lower floor, where more monitoring stations sat beneath a massive central display. At the top of it all, a single large booth contained enough displays for three main "overseer" operators.
In this case, the bulk of the lower stations were occupied by overly-enthusiastic Atlas soldiers and Legionnaires - twenty-four in all, plus five comms techs at the lowest monitor booths. Port and Grey also sat within their ranks, looking more controlled, but still distinctly excited.
In the overseers' stations sat Jaune, Winter, and Doctor Oobleck, with Glynda, Ozpin, and Zhao standing behind them and observing affairs.
It had taken most of the night to hash out the details, but by first light the next day, the deal was sealed. They had managed to secure the cooperation of not only the Legion garrison, but a select few regular Atlesian Army personnel as well. Their readiness to cooperate had taken Jaune by surprise; but in the end, everyone had decided that a broad range of experience would make for a more robust trial for the Initiates.
"The objective here isn't to defeat or punish the kids, Corporal," Jaune replied, though he still knew that he was wearing an easy grin on his face as he spoke. "The number of operators here is primarily to take some of the burden off of the simulation AI - each operator focuses on small-scale strategy and general tactics, while the AI handles combat."
"The exception being the smaller number of "elite" units scattered throughout the group," Winter added, pulling up a chart that was similar to a Force Organization diagram, only with Grimm and symbols to represent the organic operators.
The three "overseer" positions sat at the top of the chart; two were connected directly to the bulk of the remaining diagram, while the third was connected to a separate, smaller "tree."
"Myself and Doctor Oobleck will oversee the general conduct of operations for the majority of our human operators and other computer-controlled opponents," Jaune elaborated, settling back in the - shockingly comfortable - chair and folding his hands behind his head as he surveyed the screen, "We'll have strategic control of the simulation. The regular operators, in turn, have tactical control of small units of Grimm - Beowulf packs, Deathstalker swarms, murders of Nevermore, and the occasional sleuth of Ursa. For the most part, the role of the operators will be to survey a small area in the immediate vicinity of their designated unit, and direct the AI to engage nearby initiates in whatever fashion they see fit."
"This smaller group of experienced operators will meanwhile each be in charge of a single or a pair of Elder Grimm," Winter continued, "Alpha Beowulves, Ursa Majors, Ancient Deathstalkers, etcetera. These will be under my direction, and will be dispatched in a more targeted fashion to test candidates who prove their mettle early enough to warrant closer examination of their skill sets."
"Upon first engagement by the mainline units, it has been decided that the AI will handle most of the legwork for combat in order to gauge the initiate's basic martial prowess and tactical acumen," Oobleck picked up, speaking absently - and therefore slowly enough to actually be understood - as he worked away at his own terminal. "Should the initiate in question prove competent or skillful enough to make short work of the preliminary engagement, a second unit will be spawned a short distance away and directed towards the fighting, whereupon the operator will be allowed to assume direct control of one or more units to try and test the candidate against a more intelligent or aggressive opponent."
"If both of an operator's units are defeated, they'll be taken out of the fight on a short "respawn timer," and the initiate will be allowed to advance unhindered - unless they're engaged by another operator, or they unintentionally or voluntarily become engaged in another fight alongside another initiate," Jaune continued. "If they continue on alone and unabated for too long, we'll send one of Winter's elites after them to give them some attention. And if we end up with stragglers after a certain number of initiates have completed the exercise, the operators that were knocked out will be put back into the field to try to drive the remnants towards the final objective, or - if we've crossed our threshold of passing candidates - they'll be cleared to go for broke and try their damnedest to eliminate the stragglers."
"And if one of the stragglers is some wunderkind that manages to best all opposition?" Zhao asked dryly.
"Then they'll be removed from the simulation manually, and their performance will be compared alongside the rest of the successful candidates to see if their performance was enough to outstrip another candidate or earn a reserved tertiary slot," Glynda replied in Jaune's stead.
"Wouldn't it be a bit screwy to pass a candidate who didn't even manage to complete the primary objective of the exercise?" Zhao asked dryly, earning noises of agreement from Jaune and Winter.
"Which is why the case - and the student - would need to be particularly exceptional," Ozpin responded placatingly.
Zhao looked rather unconvinced, but nonetheless held his silence and shrugged.
Oobleck finally looked away from his screen a short time after, and glanced over his shoulder at Glynda and Ozpin. "The system is operational," he said shortly, "We can begin briefing the first section and admitting them to the Dive Room."
"Excellent," Ozpin nodded, looking to Glynda beside him. She pushed her glasses up again, tucked her tablet under one arm, and turned on her heel and left the room. "Would you care to say a few words to our operators, Miss Schnee?" the Headmaster then offered.
"I believe I will defer that honor to my colleague," Winter demurred, sending Jaune a sideways glance and a coy smirk; the younger Specialist cursed wordlessly, but nonetheless took to his feet and started down the tiers of seating towards the front of the room.
A stony façade came naturally, even as his mind raced. He hadn't had to give a kickoff address in close to a year; and never to a larger unit than his own section. The numbers were close here, but the men and women that would be in front of him were strangers. As such, his address would not only serve as a brief, but also a personal first impression for many in the room.
Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, he pivoted smoothly and moved to the center of the floor at a deliberate cadence. On reaching his post, he pivoted one more time to face the room, and placed himself at a modified position of 'Parade Rest' - feet shoulder-width apart, and his hands laid one over the other at the small of his back.
"Attention!" Jaune called, though just loud and authoritative enough to be heard over the din rather than in his usual sharp bark of a command. The Legionnaires fell to "Seats Attention" regardless, while the Atlesian regulars simply turned their attention his way curiously. "Thank you. My name is Specialist Jonathan Amsel; most of you are familiar with, or at least aware of, my colleague, Specialist Winter Schnee," he gestured to her, though most didn't need to look at her to already know that she was present.
"Representing Beacon Academy itself, we also have Doctor Bartholomew Oobleck," most actually turned to look this time as the man in question offered a silent wave, "As well as the esteemed Headmaster Ozpin."
"On behalf of Beacon and all of her staff and faculty, I would like to thank you all for volunteering to take part in this exercise," Ozpin offered diplomatically, before gesturing for attention to be turned back to Jaune.
"We're happy to be of assistance, sir," Jaune stated flatly before continuing. "Speaking of which, let's get down to brass tacks on why you're all here. Doctor?"
On queue, the display behind Jaune lit up, showcasing an overhead view of a location that remarkably resembled the Emerald Forest - specifically the section that Beacon controlled on most days.
"Due to mitigating circumstances beyond the school's control, the Emerald Forest immediately bordering the campus is currently unsuitable for use as the location of Beacon's traditional Initiation process." A small murmur of confusion arose, but Jaune swiftly headed it off. "Simply put, there aren't enough Grimm in the woods. I know, I know," his voice rose to head off the rise of exclamations of surprise and disbelief, "It's crazy. Long story short: The school usually puts on a big to-do beforehand to trim the numbers down to manageable levels for each batch of prospective students; unfortunately, someone got a little… Overzealous, this year," he stated with a hapless shrug.
Simple, believable, and not technically a lie; the hallmarks of effective compartmentalization of information.
"This situation was only discovered within the last forty-eight hours, and as such, the faculty have had to make some changes to their initiation process on very short notice."
The main screen changed to show the Table of Organization and "Equipment" for the exercise - the giant tree diagram showing the hierarchy of operators and the Grimm that they would be controlling.
"Point of fact: Beacon's virtual reality training simulation suite is developed by and imported directly from Atlas, and is state-of-the-art," Jaune stated. "That being said: The current state of technology in this application is rather limited. There are seventy-six candidates to be tested, whereas this simulation is typically only capable of generating and independently controlling thirty to forty intelligent opponents at once.
"This is where you all come in. Nearly half of the simulation's processing power can be freed up by utilizing manual control for devising the strategy - and occasionally, the tactics - of the computer-generated Op-For. To further cut down on the strain, the candidates will be run through in two batches; all told, the ideal scenario is to bring three- or four-to-one odds against the initiates, technically totaling eight-to-one overall when considering 'respawns.'"
At some of the blank stares he was getting, Jaune paused and scratched the back of his neck. "Simply put, you all will be controlling one or more simulated Grimm and directing them into combat against Huntsman and Huntress candidates."
An undercurrent of excitement, accompanied by quiet chatter, arose from the group.
"I'll be blunt," Jaune called over the din, effectively silencing the room once more, "Your primary objective is not to win this exercise; nor is it to make your opponents lose," he added dryly, cutting off a few smart-alecs and drawing soft chuckles.
"The objective of this exercise is to put on a show and a good fight - or rather, it's to make the candidates put on a good fight. You are not just the opposition, but you are also the exam proctors for this exercise; you will be responsible for presenting these prospective Hunters with an opponent that forces them to draw on every bit of their budding intelligence, physical ability, and mental fortitude, and to gauge whether or not these attributes are up to the minimum acceptable standard for Beacon Academy."
"You will not be expected to be able to measure or determine this on your own," he clarified, gesturing up to the top-most stations, "Myself, Specialist Schnee, and Doctor Oobleck will be serving as command-and-control, as well as the final proctors and analysts for this exercise. Your job is simply to "run into" the candidates in the simulation; to direct the simulated Grimm under your command to engage them; and if they are capable of handling the computer units, you may be directed to assume tactical control of further units to properly test their mettle."
Jaune could feel the burgeoning grins of excitement from his audience as a thrill ran down his spine. "You will heed the directives of myself, Specialist Schnee, and Doctor Oobleck in the course of the exercise as we oversee the situation-at-large and assess the candidates individually and en-masse," he stated firmly. "However," he added, feeling a small smirk cross his lips, "Should we deem a particular candidate suitably proficient; you will be given carte-blanche to engage them as you see fit, either to neutralize, or to eliminate them from the exercise."
He paused to look around the stations and reaffirm that he had the attention and understanding of the operators; he was met with a litany of enthralled and slightly bloodthirsty grins, and he nodded in satisfaction. "You've already been briefed on the basics of your stations and your controls; when the simulation starts, you will have five minutes of roaming-time in the battlespace to get familiar with the physical interface and to practice directing and controlling your assigned units. Any questions during the exercise need only be voiced into your headset, and you'll receive an answer or directive from one of us on high."
Jaune took a breath, and looked one last time across the room; the energy was simmering, almost at the boiling point, but he hadn't quite pushed them over the edge.
Yet.
"You in this room are all that stand between these prospective Huntsmen and Huntresses, and admission to one of the most prestigious institutions on Remnant," he stated, sweeping his gaze around to meet the eyes of each and every station in the room. "As of this moment, these hopefuls are under the mistaken impression that, because we are deviating from the norm of Beacon's tradition, they're in for a cakewalk followed by four years of easy street."
He paused for effect, and then raised a hand with a single outstretched finger as if to raise a point. "We are not here to stop them all from succeeding in their ambitions; but we are here to dispel any notions that their path to joining the ranks of humanity's defenders will be anything resembling easy."
Jaune's vicious grin thinned out as he adopted a touch more gravitas. "And we will accomplish this by demonstrating that, no matter the challenge or the task; the Atlas Military does not do anything by half-measures." He adopted a stern glare, and capped his words off with a flat and strong: "Do you get me, troopers?!"
The response was predictably thunderous, and nearly made Ozpin spill his beverage.
"WE GET YOU, SIR!"
In the back, Oobleck nodded approvingly at the message, Winter beamed with pride, and Zhao offered a simple thumbs-up before turning and quietly exiting the room.
Jaune closed his eyes briefly and grinned as he basked in the familiar energy. Then he opened them, and nodded one final time as an indicator at the back of the room lit up, signaling that the Dive Capsules in the other room were coming online.
"Our trainees have started to enter the battlespace," he stated. "Commence operations!"
Ilia couldn't fully suppress the apprehension boiling in her gut as she climbed into the "Dive Capsule." Atlas technology and Faunus rarely went well together - and frankly, even as a seasoned infiltrator and adept spy, she wasn't terribly fond of enclosed spaces such as this.
The capsule was essentially a medical bed set at a forty-five-degree decline and encased in a cocoon-like white plastic casing, with a clear plastic lid that was hinged down at the floor for access. A helmet-like apparatus was recessed in the crown of the capsule, and would undoubtedly descend over the occupant's head.
As she climbed in and the lid swept back into place, the Deputy Headmistress's voice continued to issue instructions through speakers built into the interior.
"These capsules represent the cutting-edge of Virtual Reality simulation technology, and were developed jointly by the Atlas Military and Beacon Academy to allow soldiers and Hunters to train under conditions and in scenarios that would be far too dangerous to emulate in the real world.
"Once activated, the capsule's synaptic interface is capable of interacting with and stimulating all five of the body's senses, allowing for near-total immersion with the simulated environment. For obvious reasons, however, limiters are in place within the hardware to avoid overstimulation and personal injury."
Well, wasn't that just reassuring, Ilia griped internally, unconsciously rolling her lower lip between her teeth as her heart rate briefly spiked. Nonetheless, she was able to refocus as Goodwitch continued the briefing undaunted.
"Because of these limiters, your perception of 'pain' within the simulation will be significantly dulled. To compensate for this, injuries on your person will be highlighted - yellow injuries are minor and barely perceptible, while red injuries are severe and recognizable even through the simulation's dampening. If you sustain an injury in the simulation that the system registers as permanently debilitating or fatal, the simulation will terminate, and the system will briefly 'ramp down' to minimize synaptic shock before the capsule shuts down completely, and you are released.
"Moving on. The goal of this exercise is the same as what you may have heard about from the standard Initiation process. You will be "dropped" into a full-and-faithful recreation of Beacon's Emerald Forest. Your objective is to traverse the forest to a target location, retrieve one of the designated items, and return with this item to the starting area intact.
"It should go without saying, but I will state it now for full clarity," Goodwitch said sternly, "If you are ejected from the simulation before you have completed the exercise's primary objective, you have failed Beacon's Initiation. The final number of slots for students this year is also limited, so should too many candidates complete the exercise, passing or failure will be determined by individual and collective performance."
The Headmistress paused, and Ilia felt a leaden weight settle in her stomach, along with a sense of foreboding.
"We do not anticipate, however, that this will be an issue."
'Foreshadowing,' Ilia's mind quipped cynically, 'Lovely.'
"One final note: Teams will be determined following the conclusion of the exercise, based on criteria which will be explained at that time. However, partnerships will be determined inside of the simulation, using the following, straightforward rule," Goodwitch paused again, and it was easy to picture the woman's piercing gaze sweeping across a crowd of students.
"The first person whom you make eye contact with inside of the simulation, will be your partner for the next four years of Beacon."
'What.'
"Only one objective may be possessed by each pair of candidates," she continued. "You cannot claim an objective until you have formed a partnership. If you fail the exercise after having found a partner and claimed an objective - that is to say, if you fail to reach the extraction point in time, or if you die - then your partner will, by default, fail as well, and vice-versa."
The stakes just kept getting higher every time the Deputy Headmistress opened her mouth, and the weight in Ilia's stomach sank further and further with every word. It had been too long since she'd had to depend on a partner in the field - there were operations in Mantle where she was paired with Yuma or Trifa, but they were few and far between on account of how thinly stretched the Zealot ranks were on all fronts.
Still, she tried to reason, these conditions would ultimately make her own objective that much simpler to execute.
"As all candidates have entered their capsules, we will now commence Initiation," Good witch announced. "Once the simulation begins, your physical body's motor functions will be disabled by the hardware in the Dive Capsule until your connection to the simulation is terminated; so you need not feel alarmed if the sensation of numbness happens to come before unconsciousness. Sending activation signals in three… Two… O-"
Ilia was struck by a visceral sense of weightlessness and numbness all at once, and she felt her consciousness flee her body in a single breath.
As the operators in the control center fumbled through learning their controls and practicing with their units, the mood was relatively lax. The soldiers and Legionnaires chatted with one another, shooting the breeze or exchanging questions and answers as one and all puzzled their way through managing units of virtual Grimm.
Jaune's display started to light up with red dots as the Initiates loaded into the battlespace, and he keyed his headset to address the room.
"Contact."
An immediate hush fell over the control center, and the Specialists could visualize eyes narrowing and breaths steadying as training and discipline took over.
"Reading thirty-eights Initiates distributed evenly across sectors Anton, Berta, and Caesar, at an average density of two per grid square with even spacing across the board," Winter reported to her fellow Overseers. "Candidates in Caesar have begun advancing directly east; none appear to be attempting to link up with their fellows."
"Just as well," Jaune grunted, highlighting a cluster of his westernmost Grimm units and dragging their commlinks across his display to his active channels list. "All units on this channel; begin a bounding advance directly west towards Sector Emil. Maintain three hundred meters absolute minimum spacing and advance at your unit's average patrol speed. You are cleared to engage on first contact, but do not group up on targets unless they are grouped themselves."
The operators came back with a close string of affirmations, and Jaune watched with grim satisfaction as nearly three dozen friendly markers separated from the horde in the east and advanced in a staggered line spanning an entire sector to meet the Initiates in the field. Dozens more trailed behind as the uncalled operators caught on to the movement, while others hung back and appeared to establish choke points and ambushes of their own accord while waiting to be called into action.
"This shit is so far over my head that I don't even know where to start," Jaune muttered to himself.
"Welcome to command and control," Winter replied bluntly to his rhetorical statement, her hands flying over the controls on her console as she surveyed environmental data and monitored vitals and positions from her own special units. "Start surveying the lead initiates and designating targets for your pointmen."
Wordlessly, and almost automatically, Jaune selected an icon from the front ranks of advancing initiates, and started surveying the Huntsman-hopeful's abridged datasheet. Taking in Cardin Winchester's information, he then selected the nearest Grimm unit.
"Ulrich-Five," he opened a line to the approaching swarm of Nevermore, "Command advises small-unit hit-and-run tactics against the approaching target; dispatch your units in groups of increasing size, but keep them coming back-to-back to keep the pressure on."
"Acknowledged, Command," the operator responded immediately.
"Good," Winter said approvingly, "Move on to the next unit."
Offer strategic direction and suggest tactics, but leave the execution to the commander in the field. Jaune let out a short, involuntary noise of understanding as he recognized the dynamic, and the flow of battle began to click into place in his mind's eye.
A pack of Beowulves against a combat school graduate with a penchant for wide-area attacks. "Viktor-Seven, send in your units individually; you're cleared to assume direct control of later units as needed."
A sleuth of two Ursai against a prominent duelist. "Xantippe-Three, assault in successive pairs, and assume control of your final unit if opposition proves fierce."
A large nest of Deathstalkers against a newly-formed partnership of a Dust-user and a gunfighter. "Attack the gunfighter en-masse and observe how the partner responds."
By the end of the first ten minutes of the first wave, five Initiates had already been knocked out, while six units of Grimm had been wiped wholesale. Two individual Initiates were driving through the center of the remaining horde, and were currently within three hundred meters of the designated target area.
"My word, these casualties are simply disproportionate!" Doctor Oobleck observed in astonishment.
"On which side?" Jaune asked wryly.
"The students, of course," Oobleck responded unabashedly. "Make no mistake, we're gathering data on the survivors at an unprecedented rate; but this kind of attrition in an Initiation process is simply unheard of in Beacon's history, especially if the rate holds up over time."
"We can't afford to dial back the operators' aggression at this point, lest we compromise the integrity of the process," Winter observed with a cool, clinical tone.
"Specialist Schnee is correct," the Headmaster interjected from his place behind the Overseers. "I accepted this risk when I approved the change of venue for Initiation. Should our ranks be thinner than usual, it simply means that we will accept not only a higher quality of student; but we will be able to offer them a higher quality of education as well."
"As you say, Headmaster," the Doctor deferred; though Jaune was able to detect a hint of consternation in the man's voice. That distaste became visible as the four all watched another initiate's icon blink out of existence on the screen.
This turned to confusion as, a few moments later, three Grimm units blinked out in rapid succession; and down below, three operators threw their hands into the air and uttered cries of shock and outrage. Winter turned back to her display and made a small noise of understanding.
"It would appear that Miss Nikos and her new partner are putting in a strong effort."
Jaune paused at that, and then turned to look at the still-disgruntled Doctor Oobleck.
"I have an idea."
- To Serve With Honor -
"This is completely insane," Emerald grumbled, absently raising her sidearm and double-tapping a smaller Beowulf in the forehead, its bone faceplate splintering under the first round and shattering under the second. "You're actually enjoying this?" the detective asked her new partner incredulously.
In response, Pyrrha Nikos cartwheeled through the middle of a sleuth of Ursai, her xiphos flashing in the simulated sunlight. Coming out of the acrobatic maneuver, the sword seamlessly mechashifted into a carbine rifle, and she put rounds into the necks of the two hulking Grimm that weren't already falling over dead.
"I honestly can't say that I've had a workout quite like this in some time," the Mistrali tournament fighter replied cheerfully with a glowing smile that Emerald wasn't sure if she should be awed or disturbed by.
"Still, that's got to have been seven whole packs of Grimm in the last ten minutes," Emerald muttered. "It's like somebody's throwing them at us wholesale."
"I suppose I probably attracted quite a bit of extra attention while I was fighting those two Ursa Majors shortly before we ran into one another," Pyrrha admitted unabashedly, adding a small, overly-polite "Sorry" at the end.
The detective shook her head in disbelief and pinched the bridge of her nose to stave off a budding migraine. She then reached into her pocket and pulled out her Scroll, activating the compass function and orienting herself east.
"Let's just hurry up and end this nightmare so I can go out and scrounge up a stiff drink," Emerald finally declared.
The pair took off at a run towards the objective site, unaware that they were far in the lead, or that they'd single-handedly wiped over a fifth of the simulated Grimm opposition.
Further to the north and slightly west, Yang delivered a pair of right hooks to the skull plate of a horse-sized Deathstalker, snorting in distaste as the second blow caved the Grimm's head in and sent the creature slumping to the ground.
"This is a whole lot more boring than I thought it'd be when they told us that we'd be doing this shit in V-R," she stated more to herself than anything.
She heard her new partner utter a short bark of laughter - the most energetic response that she'd gotten out of him so far - as he lashed out with a series of kicks that loosed compressed Wind Dust projectiles from his boots into the midst of a murder of Nevermore, shredding most of the small avian Grimm and sending the remainder fleeing in various directions.
"Chin up, Bright Eyes," Mercury Black quipped as he absently shook some tension from his right leg, "The teachers are watching us right now; an easy time in here means they'll probably have more to throw at you in class later."
Yang perked up at that and grinned. "A girl can only hope," she sighed wistfully. "Let's keep this show moving, then."
"Lead on," Mercury drawled, taking off at a leisurely gait as Yang shot off into the distance.
"That may have worked a bit too well," Winter muttered, peering over her console to look down at the stations below. Half of the operators now milled about in the control room, their units having been wiped out by the combined terrors of Nikos and Xiao-Long.
"We've curbed the initiates' casualty ratio, weeded out several of the weakest candidates, eliminated several of the most aggressive operators for the time being, and set the remaining candidates on course to acquire partners and/or objectives," Jaune stated flatly, "I see this as forward progress."
"Indeed," Oobleck nodded in agreement. "We are continuing to accrue data on the remaining candidates, and over half of the survivors have paired up and are within arm's reach of the objective. We are within satisfactory statistical margins for the exercise."
"Excellent," Ozpin declared, taking another drink from his mug. "We're back on track."
"Nikos and Sustrai, and Xiao-Long and Black have each acquired an objective," Winter announced. "Amitola and Schnee are on approach from separate vectors, as are Lie and Valkyrie. Winchester, Thrush, Bronzewing, and Lark have amassed and are five minutes out as well, though five units still stand in their path."
"Their numbers are sufficient should their teamwork prove adequate," Oobleck stated absently, stopping by his own station to survey the survivors' information. "The remaining numbers, however, are unlikely to succeed at the current pace of the exercise."
"This is acceptable," the Headmaster stated, "We still have another batch to run through, after all."
"The first set of respawn timers will expire around the time that most of the candidates are turning towards the extraction point," Jaune observed. "We can manually respawn all of them at once, and then let the horde weed out the glory hounds."
"Agreed," Ozpin and Oobleck replied simultaneously. Winter opted to nod silently before turning back to her console.
Jaune peered over her shoulder; the other Specialist's display showed position and biometric data for her sister. He turned back to his own controls, but reached over and placed a hand on Winter's shoulder.
Winter exhaled, and reached up to place a hand over his. Oobleck focused on his own screen, while Ozpin politely and pointedly looked the other way.
Ilia fought to keep her panic down as Lightning Lash speared through and severed the spine of yet another Beowulf. As with the last dozen-odd creatures of the type, the corpse immediately went limp and slumped to the ground, the ethereal light fleeing from its digitally simulated eyes.
She took a ragged breath to compose herself; getting worked up for no reason would only show poorly in her biometric records and draw attention and suspicion.
'Except maybe it won't,' a tiny voice in her mind pointed out, 'I'm a student, a Beacon aspirant, and freaking out at the idea that I might not make the cut. A little stress is healthy then, isn't it?'
She allowed the panic to stew and then simmer down naturally as cold, clinical focus fell back into place. She was close to the objective; and from the sounds of the area, the ranks of the initiates had been trimmed swiftly and harshly.
Ilia could only hope that her own objective wasn't among the numbers that had already been culled. If it was, then she'd just wasted half an hour sandbagging her way through hordes of Grimm for nothing.
'I'm too close,' she realized, 'I can hold off any longer. I need to sit on the "X" and wait for a partner.'
She cleared the tree line and approached the low-lying temple ruins that held the objectives, which she could now see were chess pieces. Two initiates were already there, and were clearly already partnered with one another - a boy dressed in green Mistrali garb with black hair that had a pink fringe in the front, and a girl in a pink skirt, white shirt, and some sort of metallic frame around her torso, with a shock of orange hair.
She offered the pair a polite wave, which the boy returned calmly - and the girl quite enthusiastically - before the boy seized one of the few remaining pieces from the pedestal, and the two took off at a run back into the woods towards the starting site for extraction.
Three pieces yet remained on the pedestal. As she perched atop a pillar that once supported an archway, Ilia tried to guess how many had originally existed.
'Thirty-eight loaded in, halved is nineteen pairs. Historical data indicates that Beacon averages a fifty-to-sixty-percent admission rate each year, sometimes higher when there's a lower number of candidates. There's still thirty-eight more that need to cycle through, meaning thirty-eight potential pairs in total. Since teams have to have two pairs - four members - they'd need even numbers of partnerships. So, we probably started out with ten pieces, for five teams - ideally - from this batch.'
As an eerie quiet fell over the forest, the leaden weight in her gut solidified. 'Gods, I might be the last unmatched candidate in the woods.'
Then an entire bloody iceberg came spearing out of the edge of the woods to the south of Ilia's perch, the corpse of an Ursa dissolving around the tip, and she fought back a rictus grin of triumph as Weiss Schnee slid down from her perch atop the frozen mass, transitioning into a purposeful jog that ended at the base of the pillar.
The heiress of the Schnee Dust Company and the deep-cover White Fang agent smiled pleasantly at one another, and after seizing a chess piece, took off swiftly for the extraction point - hearing the horde closing in behind them, but fortunately running afoul of no obstacles the entire way to the glowing green circle on the ground at the base of the simulated Cliffs of Beacon.
The two young women exchanged a final smile, and - as Weiss's face dematerialized fully - Ilia allowed herself one broad smile with a few too many points.
"Mission Accomplished."
Pax let out a soft cheer along with the victorious cries of his fellows at the Lieutenant's declaration, feeling the exhaustion beginning to creep up from his bones as he raised his still-warm carbine and fell into formation as the Fang hunting party moved towards their extraction point further north in the forest.
Their fifth - and supposedly final - hunting party in the Emerald Forest to the north of Beacon Academy had been an unmitigated success, in keeping with the trend of success as the Vale chapter's best fighters had taken to Grimm tracking and extermination like fish to water.
In all, nearly forty of their number had spent time in these woods over the last two months, honing their skills in stealth, navigation, tracking, weaponry, and squad- and platoon-level maneuvers.
Commander Taurus had offered the justification of a public relations campaign; each hunting party had been accompanied by what he had termed "combat camera operators," two or three additional personnel armed with high-resolution cameras and recording equipment and tasked with primarily observing the fighting of the hunting parties against the Grimm.
The senior enlisted - who continued to grill Pax for insight every other weekend at staff poker games in the barracks - had acknowledged the validity of this explanation. Vale's military and Huntsmen were stretched to the brink, and utilizing the Fang's resources to take some of the pressure off of the Kingdom's external defenders was a logical and effective tactic not only for establishing some legitimacy, but in buying some goodwill with a portion of the local populace.
Pax had also heard a few of the Zealots quietly approving of the exercises, as they were common practice in the harsh and untamed mountains and snowscapes of Mantle. There were simply no downsides in having more personnel who were trained in fighting off Grimm.
Personally, Pax and his fellows appreciated the "trigger time," as the Zealots referred to it. Weapons practice on barracks duty was restricted exclusively to limited windows of time and ammunition in the cramped quarters of the improvised firing ranges, and this resource was made even more limited by the narrow windows of operation brought on by the necessity for noise discipline at some hours of the day and most of the night to keep the compound off of law enforcement's radar.
Out in the woods beyond the walls, however, gunfire was easily overlooked amongst ambient noises such as animals, vehicles, and even the gunfire from the Kingdom's territorial defenses and defense forces. They were also far out from the borders, closer to the Academy than the Kingdom, meaning that either of the aforementioned parties could simply dismiss the noise as the other taking care of business.
"This will be our last hunt for the foreseeable future," the Lieutenant declared from the head of the formation, answering one of the unit's unspoken questions. "Our operations have drawn the attention of Beacon and the VDF, and even if they don't come out looking for a fight, we're not in a position to get into a standoff with Huntsmen or the military."
'Yet' went unspoken, Pax filled in mentally. The end goal was obviously to reach a point in status and reputation where they could get into some situations and walk away mostly intact, if not victorious.
"Regardless, you've all performed admirably over this last month," the hulking officer continued, a hint of pride showing through in his voice, "The Commander and our allies from Mantle have all spoken well of your efforts and growth in such a short window."
Pax felt his lips curl into an involuntary grin of happiness, and he glanced around and noted that he was hardly the only one.
"Quite so, Lieutenant," an unfamiliar feminine voice called out from the trees ahead, the words wafting over the staggered column as if on the wind.
It took an instant for the Vale Fang to recognize the potential threat, and less than a second for the formation to break and take up covered positions in the surrounding trees, weapons aimed outwards and upwards and sweeping around in search of the newcomer.
"Identify yourself!" The Lieutenant barked sharply, holding a post near a large tree and keeping his behemoth chainsaw revving intermittently at the ready.
"I'm hurt, Lieutenant Sayanov," the voice repeated from the front; most weapons swept towards the source, a form that materialized from the middle of the forest trail in a swirling cloud of leaves and wind.
The stranger - a woman, it was obvious, even beneath the heavy olive-drab traveler's cloak - appeared in a crouch, and rose gracefully to her full height. She reached daintily up to her hood, barely pausing even under the sights of a dozen rifles.
"I hardly think it's been so long since we've served together that you would've forgotten my voice," the woman pouted. She drew back her hood, and Pax's breath hitched.
Lustrous curtains of silky midnight hair crowned with soft feline ears framed amber eyes that glowed with amusement from their place set in the sharp features of a pale and attractive visage. The smooth and elegant curve of her cheek was interrupted by an angry, jagged red line from her right ear down to her jaw; but this scar only served to lend an air of danger to the mysterious beauty.
The whole unit's captivation was compounded with confusion as the still form of the Lieutenant fell suddenly to one knee and bowed his head.
"Emissary Belladonna," the fearsome man breathed, "My deepest apologies; I wasn't informed that you would be arriving by this path."
Pax's eyes widened, and he and the rest of the Fang quickly followed the Lieutenant's example, falling to one or both knees and bowing their heads reverently.
The sole daughter and scion of Kali and Ghira Belladonna - the right hand of Sienna Khan herself. A young woman whom many in the ranks considered to be the rightful heiress to the White Fang.
"That is the idea behind operational security, yes," she stated with a soft laugh. "My escort accompanied me as far as the nearest friendly village, and from there I simply opted to… Wander in of my own accord."
"You are here to open formal dialogues with the Kingdom, then?" the Lieutenant asked tentatively, his head rising slightly to peer up at her uncertainly.
"Among other purposes," the Emissary replied airily, accompanied by a shrug and a sly smile. "Let's just say that I am here to move things along."
End Chapter 14
Author's Note: Oh, there you are Blake. You look different. Wait, where's Ilia? What do you mean she's not with you? And what are Emerald and Mercury doing out here, not with each other, and apparently not in Cinder's company?
Anyway, that's Initiation and the sum of the primary cast changes. As you've probably noticed, Initiation itself is brief, strange, and ultimately shows but showcases very little of the canon cast - that is intentional for two reasons.
Reason 1.) After having seen it rehashed verbatim and ad-nauseum within the fandom, I am personally quite thoroughly sick of Initiation. Dozens of students get to Beacon, about half get to stay - at this point, I really don't care how the culling process goes, nor am I particularly interested in hashing it out for myself. I recognize that I could have done more to showcase my own semi-unique process, but I simply cannot be bothered, and I just want(ed) to get it over with.
That being said, there is still a bit of Initiation left to cover - though it's mainly the aftermath, and the consequences of certain deliberate actions that have transpired herein which will be revealed in the next chapter.
Reason 2.) Beacon is a place in this story, but it is not the setting. Vale as a whole is the immediate setting, with an overarching scope of Vale and Atlas/Mantle collectively; and we are not especially interested in the comings and goings of the students of Beacon, barring a select few whom have mostly all been highlighted by this point. If you are here to read about the trials and tribulations of this modified RWBY cast in the context of a year at Beacon Academy, then I am sorry to disappoint, but this is probably not a story for you.
What this is [eventually] intended to be is a geopolitical/sociopolitical military thriller with a splash of drama and a pinch of Winter Knight and other romance. If any of that piques your interest or sounds like it might already be your speed, I invite you to stick around and keep taking in this slow-motion train wreck with me.
I hope that you've enjoyed this latest installment of To Serve With Honor, and I hope to see you next time.
-Knightmare Frame Razgriz