"Notice you didn't include the kid's insubordination in your report."

"Don't mention it."

"Why didn't you include it? Just wondering."

"Drop it, Perkins."

"Is it because he reminds you of yourself? Back when we were a whole bunch of fucking cowboys?"

"..."

"Am I right or not?"

"Shut up already, Master Warrant."

"Good thing the XO hasn't found out about it yet, or he might think the almighty Major Thorne has a soft spot."

"I'll lash you to a wall."

"I know you won't sir."

"Fuck you man."

Chapter 13: Change of Command

Jaune slowed to a stop at the finish line, placing his hands on top of his head as he wandered off the track.

The base track was little more than just a gravel loop, the center of which was occupied by a sports field. Some Contractors were playing a small game of soccer, groaning and cheering respectively whenever either side scored. Space on Base Citadel was restricted, but still, the sheer size of it was massive compared to anything else. The fact that the area around the walls was kept clear of any Grimm, both by the Huntsmen and them, meant that they could make it just about as big as they wanted, which it pretty much was. Add onto that that the Council were happy to have a base full of heavily armed Contractors between them and the Grimm meant they were here to stay.

With close to a thousand combat personnel on base, Jaune wondered how their platoon had been picked out for that raid a few days ago. Maybe because they had just been certified for special operations, though there were plenty of others. Maybe they wanted the LAVs? Well, the LAVs would've been useful against the Paladin...

The sound of footfalls on gravel grew, until they were just behind him. Jaune turned around to greet Thistle, ready to-

"Fuck me man!" Thistle heaved air as he stumbled right into Jaune, grabbing hold of his friend's shirt, steadying himself. "I can nearly run as fast as you, but fuck me, why do you look like you just went for a light jog instead of a full sprint?"

Jaune carefully pried his tired friend off him, letting Thistle stagger around and support himself by holding onto his shoulders, "I augment it with Aura, sometimes. It's good to practice augmenting with Aura anyways."

"That's fucking bullshit. I'm nearly on your level anyways without Aura. Before you know it, I'll be outrunning your ass," Thistle clapped Jaune on the back, stepping back as he paced around in small circles, gulping heavy breaths of air as he recovered.

He let his hands drop from the top of his hands, instead placing them on his hips, "Thistle, man, that just means you're on the same level as the lowest possible Huntsman. I can still barely last that long against Alabaster when he actually tries, and I don't think I'd last that much longer against a Huntsman-in-Training."

"That still means you're better than the vast majority of people on this base, man," Thistle chuckled, turning around to watch the rest of the section come in. "Including your own section. I'll just chill in the LAV anyways, don't need to run around when I'm sitting in a metal box."

"The vast majority of guys on this base are just taking time in between contracts or in training. A bunch of them aren't even combat personnel," Jaune turned to watch a formation of recruits pass by on the road behind the track. Most were lanky and wearing ill-fitting uniforms. First Phase recruits, he could still remember when he was one. "We're running a threadbare force for this shit as it is. Most of the experienced guys are out doing Contracts or guarding some SDC Dust mine in the middle of nowhere."

"Damn Jaune, never thought you'd be a philosopher," Thistle shot him a grin, slapping Jaune on the back as he started to catch his breath. "Come on. Did that fight instill some weird shit into your head? Speaking of that, I haven't actually heard anything about punishment for all that insubordination. Hell, we were the ones doing the insubordination and we haven't heard shit about it."

"Nah, haven't heard anything about that yet," inhaling another breath of air, he turned to watch the rest of his section come in. Lavender was just rounding the last turn of the track, purple braid flying behind as she ran. Her sister was a solid hundred metres behind, the slight limp visible even at distance.

"Strange," Thistle waved to the incoming Lavender, starting to clap loudly, "Yo! Getting better at this shit Lav." he elbowed Jaune lightly. "Say hi dude."

"Fuck off man," Jaune turned to Lavender, who came to a halt just after the finish line. "That's faster than before, did getting dropped from a highway in the LAV make you faster?"

Lavender groaned as she walked off the track towards the two of them, a thin sheen of sweat reflecting the morning sun, "I liked it when you weren't influenced by Thistle. You used to be an awkward, bunny hoodie wearing kid, now you're basically Thistle lite."

"Guess I rub off him, eh?" Thistle forcibly grabbed Jaune, pulling him close. "Pulled some crazy shit a few days ago, and I take all the credit for that."

Before Lavender could respond, Vi came off the track, stumbling right into her sister from behind. Lavender yelped out in surprise as she careened forward from her sister's unexpected weight.

Jaune snickered as he watched the two sisters start fighting, throwing each other to the ground and starting to grapple the other. Vi quickly pulled her sister into a rear naked chokehold, which Lavender tried desperately to escape from. Giggles bubbled from both of them as they scrambled around on the ground.

"Should we intervene?" Thistle looked up from the fight happening in front of them.

"Nah, let them fight it out."

"Whew!" Finch came up on them, wiping his sweat away with his hand. "Nice run. What are they fighting over?" he nodded at the two sisters on the dirt ground.

"Vi jumped on top of Lav when she finished running, and now they're just going at it," explained Thistle, motioning with his hands for greater effect.

The patter of footsteps behind them, and the sound of heavy breathing, "Yo, what's going on?" came Jay's voice. "Something happen that I didn't know about while I lapped all of you?"

Thistle explained quickly, and they stood off to the sidelines, watching the two girls fight it out on the ground. They were fairly matched, though Vi seemed to be slower with one of her legs, which led to Lavender eventually getting the upper hand.

Flicking his eyes momentarily to the road next to the track, Jaune did a double take to make sure what he saw was really there. The Battalion commander, and therefore Base Commander, Colonel Jade, and his entourage were passing by in his open top staff car. Luckily, it seemed the Battalion CO hadn't quite spotted the scuffle in front of him, so Jaune decided to act fast before his career could tank faster than it would after his overdue punishment for the Paladin Incident.

"Hey, hey," Jaune walked forward into the brawl in front of him. "Break it up now, that's enough."

"Pft," Vi rolled out from underneath Lavender, who stood up from her position, towering triumphantly over her sister. "If you gave me one more minute I would've gotten her."

"You wish!"

"Hey, hey, the fight's over now," he pulled Vi back up on her feet. She quickly dusted off herself, before returning to her normal peppy self, chatting casually with Thistle and laughing along with Lavender. Twisting over his shoulder to quickly check where the Colonel was, the officer had already passed in his staff car. "Alright, we'll finish off this session with some weight training, so get going you lot. We don't want the other sections to steal our spots, I spotted Terrier's section doing some workouts nearby."

Thistle ambled past, cocky grin and all, "Damn, someone's practicing their command voice."

"God knows I need it with you guys," rolling his eyes, he pushed Thistle forward. "Go already!"

"Aw, should I feel hurt?" Vi grinned, following behind Thistle. Her smile didn't quite match her eyes, those weren't looking directly at Jaune at all. Was she still angry at him? Shit, Jaune would have to figure that out later, he thought he'd already made up with her. "And don't worry, we can definitely beat them in a fistfight if they wanna steal our spots."

"Please don't get into a fistfight, at least not with other sections."

Jay slapped him on the back as he walked by, "Jeez, you're taking that position way too seriously, lighten up man, not like you're going to be in that position when Razz comes back."

"Yeah, yeah," shoving Jay forward with a grin, Jaune started walking with the rest of them. "Doesn't matter, because I'm still in charge for now. Let's go guys!"

Lavender was the last to get moving, muttering something about a stupid sister as she dusted off her PT clothes and started following the rest of everyone else.

"Seriously, I definitely could've kicked her ass..."

Jaune patted her on the shoulder, "She's injured and managed to hold the upper hand for most of the fight Lav, I don't think so."

"Shut up please, you're hurting my self esteem," she turned away quickly, red creeping onto her face.

Teasing Lavender was always fun, so he chuckled lightly, pushing her towards the rest of the section.

He wiped away some sweat building at the top of his forehead, before walking forward to go join the rest of his section already heading to the outdoor weights. His mind slowly drifted off as he walked, tuning out all the buzz of the military base around him. The sun beat down on his brow, drawing out more and more sweat, staining his workout clothes even more.

Thistle had brought up something important for once, and something that had been bugging him over the last few days. Why was he still here, and not in some stuffy room full of officers jabbing him at every turn about his actions? Jaune mentally racked his head for a possible answer. Maybe it just slipped under the radar with everything going on? That was the most probable answer. That and combined with the fact Striker Group hated letting just about anyone go short of breaking the law…

It still didn't make sense as to why he'd heard absolutely nothing about it. Nothing from Alabaster, and nothing from anyone else.

"Hey, Arc."

His hand shot to his Crocea Mors- or at least where it would've been if he had it on him. Push back, create distance, draw sword, attack. Alabaster had drilled it into him after countless drills, and it probably would've worked if he had his sword, and had he not stopped because he realized he was in what was probably the safest place he could be. An intruder was unlikely, and if the person was an intruder, he'd be dead. Finally stopping to look at who surprised him, his eyes widened more than it probably should've.

It was Razz.

"Serg-"

"Shh, shh, shh," Razz raised a finger to his lips, a small grin present. He flicked his head in everyone else's direction. "They somehow haven't seen me yet, so I want to fuck around with them a bit."

A look behind him confirmed his section indeed was paying absolutely no attention to what was happening behind them as they walked. Jaune turned back to Razz, who stood there grinning. A glance down revealed two intact legs. Last time Jaune had checked they were amputated from the lower knee. Damn, Striker Group really came through for their injured Contractors apparently.

"C'mon," Razz roughly patted him on the back, practically shoving him forward as the Sergeant started walking. "Walk and talk Contractor. Don't wanna get left behind by your section."

Jaune quickly caught up to him, both of them keeping a small distance between them and the rest of his section ahead, "So what's the story with your legs?"

"Eh," Razz shrugged. "They like to keep their veteran guys in service longer, so they don't have to train up someone entirely else, and ex-military guys are already hard to come by. Retention is always an issue here, so they give me these things," Razz rapped his knuckles against his lower leg, which produced a tinny clanging sound. "Just about the best prosthetics money can buy, nearly Huntsmen grade shit for me."

"Nice, when are you gonna come back and take command of them?" Jaune laughed harshly, turning to look at Razz. "I understand why everyone smokes now. Just a few days being responsible for them is driving me crazy."

Twirling around a cigarette between his fingers, Razz kept his eyes forward, frowning ever so slightly, "Eh, fun fact, I'm heading back to Training Command after this. So you're probably going to remain in that position forever if the manpower issues are as bad as I hear."

A very sudden stop, and a very sudden turn of a head, "What?"

"Like I said," the fire of a lighter briefly flashed as it came up to his cigarette. "I'm heading back to Training after this. I'm leaving the unit to go train some more of you punks in the ways of operating armoured assets. Kick back and enjoy the sunshine or something."

"But why? How are you even able to do this anyway?"

"A convenient opening in the LAV school they've set up, and they need experienced people over there to teach," a cloud of smoke blew out from his mouth, and he turned to look at him. "To answer the first question, being crushed by your own vehicle has a certain effect on your view on the world, surprisingly."

"Keep moving Arc, walk and talk," Razz walked forward, not looking back at the stupefied Jaune, who quickly caught up after a second, "It's hard to explain, but you could call it me realizing my mortality, and not exactly wanting to bite the dust so young."

"How old are you?" Jaune interrupted. "You look like my dad, no offence."

"Twenty eight. Four years in the Atlesian Armoured Corps and the rest as a Contractor here. And don't be asking for people's ages man, or telling people they look like your dad, that's just fucking rude."

"Sorry."

"Don't be, just jabbing you," Razz patted him on the back, turning back to his section in front of him. "I've been meaning to settle down with my girlfriend for a while anyway. I just got that training job when I was pulled out to help form this platoon. The missus wasn't all that happy with that, so it's about time I give her proper attention."

"Wait," everything swirl inside Jaune's head at once, and the first thing that came out of his mouth was-

"You have a girlfriend?"

Razz blinked once.

Jaune stared, still processing what he just said. There was a small part of him that screamed at his own social awkwardness, honed and trained by spending all of his time around his section. But Jaune, being Jaune, completely ignored that part of him in favour of wondering how the grizzled veteran in front of him could have a girlfriend.

Razz immediately stifled a laugh, his eyes flying up to his section in front of him. Jaune's eyes followed, only to see the five of them still walking towards the weights, completely unaware of the two behind them. Closer to the weight racks now, it'd only be about time for one of them to turn around and notice Razz, but for now, Razz remained unnoticed, somehow.

"You fucking kidding me kid? Of course I do," he motioned down to his legs. "And she wasn't that fucking happy with my legs. Why was that the first thing that even came to mind?"

"Uh..."

"Forget it," a shake of the head. "I keep forgetting you used to be the dumbass who showed up to training with a bunny hoodie."

"Hey, I-"

"Please shut up Arc," Razz clamped a hand over Jaune's mouth promptly, stifling whatever he was about to say. "My personal life is besides the point. What is the point, is that you're going to be the new section commander, more or less. They'll say acting, but in reality, you'll be there until you get promoted above or move to another position."

"Why's that?"

"Manpower shortages and all that," Razz grunted. "It's the reason why we got pulled for that mission. So have fun being the LAV commander and taking care of these dumbasses. Don't even think about anyone else filling in from the platoon or elsewhere. They've already built a team dynamic and we sure as hell don't want to fuck with that."

"Huh," Jaune massaged his nose, mulling over what was just said. "Sergeant, I don't even know how to command the LAV. Only the basic stuff from Crewman School. How do you expect me to even do?"

"I'm not going anywhere for now kid," a rough pat on the shoulder. "I still got one or two weeks to train you in the art of commanding a LAV, along with Alabaster pitching in after. Call it on the job training or something. We'll get started after you guys finish the workout you're having he-"

"Yo Razz! Sergeant, you're already back on your feet?"

Looking away from Razz, there stood Thistle, having now turned around completely to face the two. Just as soon as the words left Thistle's mouth, the rest of his section spun around to look at them.

"Razz!"

"How you doing, Sergeant?"

"Damn, are those robot legs? You think you'll let me screw with them?"

"Sergeant's already back on his feet, they were right when they said you were a tough motherfucker."

Everyone swarmed the Sergeant at once, wishing him well and patting him on the back. Faces bright, they finally stepped back after Razz asked for them to, or he would, "die from the sheer amount of care you fuckers are giving me".

"So you're finally here to usurp Jaune from his comfy position as section commander?" Jay grinned. Quickly shoving an empty hand into Jaune's face, it was shaped as if he was holding a microphone. "VNN here, I'm here with Jaune Arc to interview him being couped by Razz, after staging a mini coup him-"

"Oh come on!" Jaune batted the hand away, rolling his eyes. "That's not even funny."

Shrugging, "Yeah, but it gets you riled up, and that's funny."

"Ugh," he dropped his head into his hands, groaning loudly.

Razz scratched his head, smiling awkwardly, "About that..."

The Sergeant quickly ran through his story, garnering quiet from the assembled section. Silence reigned for a few seconds after Razz finished, as everything sank in completely with the section. Vi looked up suddenly, her half-open mouth and eyes already telling of the protests she would bring forward. Jaune cringed away in preparation for their relationship to completely fall through again. Fuck, she must've been having her doubts again sometime earlier, and now she was ready to voice them loud and clear. What would he have to do to fix it? No idea.

Except nothing came out. She closed her mouth abruptly, turning her gaze downwards. Kicking her feet around on the gravel ground, drawing circles in the rocks with one foot as she crossed her arms, placing them high on her stomach.

"I'm fine with that," she said, keeping her eyes firmly fixed to the ground.

Thistle and Finch chorused their agreement, the former paying a little bit more attention to Vi's reaction.

Lavender furrowed her eyebrows, "So you're leaving the platoon because of this? I nearly died too, but I sure don't feel that much different right now."

Razz let his cigarette drop, crushing it under the heel of his boot, "That's because I've done this shit for a while, and I think it's about time to stop for me. I got off with two fewer legs, and a reminder my Aura is piss small and barely protects me from half a magazine of sniper rounds. You guys are still young and adventurous, so yeah. That's my reasoning."

"Huh," she scratched the back of her head, cocking her head. "Alright, I think I get it."

"So if Jaune is the new section commander, that means he's the LAV commander now, right?" Jay squinted his eyes, cocking his head slightly. "No offence, but do you know the tactics for it? Who'll be the new dismount commander?"

"Guess I'll learn," Jaune interjected. "Razz won't be leaving immediately, so he'll teach me, and I'll probably eventually make my way over to the Crew Commander course eventually when a slot opens up and the op tempo slows down. As for the dismount commander, guess that'll be you, Jay."

"Me?" spluttered Jay, blinking hard. "Dude, you know how good I am at th-"

He shrugged, a nonchalant expression on his face, or at least what he hoped looked like one, "Guess we'll both be learning in our new roles." turning to Razz, "Alabaster's gonna keep us in the back for most of the next ops, is that right?"

Razz nodded, "Yeah, for the most part as the most inexperienced crew in the platoon, you'll probably be relegated to the least critical tasks if possible, no offence. I know you guys are some of the best people in the platoon." he added quickly. "Also, get used to Jaune being your section commander. No one's coming to replace him anytime soon, even if he's technically still the acting section commander."

"Alright," Jaune clapped his hands together, startling Vi, who had been intently staring at the ground. "Now, we gotta go finish our workout. So as my first action as the semi-official section commander, off to the weights! Go!"

Laughter all around as the section collectively turned and started walking towards the weights, already onto discussing other things. Razz followed along, his robotic legs inaudibly working as he walked. The weight racks weren't far, barely twenty metres away when they had stopped to talk.

Yet, Vi was the only one that stayed rooted in place, stiffly kicking her leg around as she kept her eyes firmly fixed to the ground.

"You gonna follow them?" he motioned towards everyone else.

She looked up from the ground, meeting his eyes with a wavering gaze. Biting her lip, she spoke softly, "Can I talk to you off to the side for a bit?"

This was definitely not what he expected at all. A yelling and screaming Vi? Maybe, but not the shy, soft spoken girl in front of him. Tentatively, he opened his mouth to speak, "Sure, shoot. Also, come over here so we're out of the way."

After walking a few metres, they stopped beside the fence separating the track and all of the exercise equipment, and the road that was bustling with military activity. Vi kept shuffling her feet, idly drawing circles in the gravel underneath as she kept her head high, and pointed directly at him, "So, I'm not very good at this stuff, so I'll get to the point. Sorry."

A raised eyebrow, "Huh? What for though?"

"I never actually said sorry for all of the stuff before, with me getting mad, y'know?" she scratched the back of her head, looking at him apologetically. "I did a bit of soul searching recently. I let my emotions take over then. I love Lav with everything, and didn't want to see her hurt. So when I heard you sent her up there… guess I overreacted. I immediately assumed you were the type of person to just throw lives around like they're nothing. I've always been the person to get Lav out of trouble when she got tangled up with something or someone. So I wasn't used to having someone else be responsible, you know?"

Jaune shook his head, getting a quizzical look from her, "Nah, it's all good on my end. I made a mistake, and I definitely needed a kick in the ass to fix it. You're fine Vi, just don't be angry at me for a week next time will you?"

"Will make sure to do that," a small smile. Crossing her arms casually, she put all her weight on one leg. "I woke up when you destroyed the Paladin. When those girls were being arrested, you looked like you were ready to throw yourself in front of their guns. Guess I was wrong about my assumption?"

"I was actually going to," he snorted. "Then Alabaster arrived, luckily for my career. So now with all of that all done, wanna start over?" he stuck out a hand.

Vi looked down at the extended hand, taking it hesitantly, "Sure, that sounds fine."

"Name's Jaune Arc, short sweet, rolls off the tongue, ladies love it," externally, he kept his goofy smile up, internally, he was already rolling around on the floor dying, courtesy of everything Thistle had pounded into him.

"Uh," her mouth hung open for half a second, before raucous laughter erupted from it. "Holy shit! What the hell was that? God, you should've definitely used that when you first met us. That would've been the greatest first impression ever."

"Really?" an edge of hope on his voice. Was it actually good? No way, if it w-

"As a goofball," Vi smiled broadly, pumping his hand up and down. "Name's Vi Marron. Former homeless girl, petty criminal, now the driver on your LAV."

"Nice to meet you," letting go of her hand, he let them drop to his sides. "I did actually try that greeting a few times, didn't actually have the effect I thought it would, and I figured it wouldn't help here. So I conveniently forgot about it when I came here."

"Should totally use it," Vi turned to start walking back to the weights, which Jaune followed quickly. "Fits you as the goofball."

"Hey! I'm totally the serious sec-"

Vi punched him, which Jaune would later say very hard. Jaune Arc did not, in fact, yelp like a little girl at all. He barely reacted at all. Absolutely no reaction. However, if he did react, it would've been a manly yell, and not a girly one. Not at all, none, nada, zero chance.

"Alright," he growled. "Go and join everyone else on the weights and get your workout done." pushing Vi forward as she broke into fits of laughter, he rolled his eyes. "Go already. Stop making fun of me or I'll forget to take my medicine and sit next to you the next time we go on a Bullhead."

Vi blanched momentarily, before starting off into a fast walk to the weights, various of which were being used by the members of his section.

His section.

He wasn't just a 2iC now, he was now the section commander. There wasn't a feeling of elation or accomplishment, no, he'd only made it here just because Razz was injured. No rush of pride, just a building feeling of stress. Jaune pursed his lips, pushing away all of the other thoughts as he made his way forward.

"Arc!" called out a voice from behind him.

Seriously? What's with people and calling out from behind me today?

Spinning around, an expletive was right at the tip of his tongue, ready to be loosed at whoever it was who was calling him. Jaune immediately swallowed that same expletive when he realized the person was Captain Alabaster.

"Sir! What are you doing here?" they quickly were next to each other, Alabaster pristine in his uniform and beret in sharp contrast to Jaune, sweaty and slightly frazzled. "I would figure that you'd be busy still filing reports."

"I like to spread the work with my guys," Alabaster shrugged. "Anyways, I'm here for something more important."

"And what would that be?" Jaune straightened his back, fiddling around with his hands. This had to be it, the news that he'd be going to be punished for his insubordination.

"Well, "Alabaster dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out two epaulettes, each with two chevrons. "Congratulations on your new promotion, Corporal Arc."

He jolted up, stiffening up even more than he already was, "What?"

"Yeah, you've been promoted, right here and now," Alabaster held out the two epaulettes, two chevrons embroidered onto them. "We don't usually have Contractor First Classes commanding sections, so you're now acting Corporal Jaune Arc. Can't have you be the same rank as your subordinates. I assume Razz already told you about his little disappearing trick and how he's leaving?"

"Yeah, he did," Jaune took the epaulettes from his hands, admiring the two chevrons denoting that now, he was a Corporal. "Are you serious? I have the same amount of time in as everyone else. I don't even know how to command the LAV properly."

"You're going to be trained by Razz and me, so don't sweat it," the Captain nodded his head, planted his hands on his hips. "Besides you being an Acting Corporal now, there's another reason I'm here. We were requested to come in on a meeting with Ozpin. Specifically you and me."

Jaune cocked his head, eyes squinting as his brain processed the new information, "Mind elaborating sir?"

"Yeah, probably shouldn't just say something and not explain it," Alabaster shrugged. "Basically, Beacon recently reached out with an offer of employment to protect their CCT from unwanted intruders. We, of course, offered to send a representative to hash out the deal and hopefully get even more contracts for the Vytal Festival. If we could get this contract, then we can probably get more, you tracking?"

"Yeah."

"Ozpin then asked for you and me personally. He wouldn't tell why, but he just said he wanted you and me at the meeting. Said he wouldn't go through without us," the Captain shrugged. "So guess what? We're tagging along."

Jaune scratched his head, pondering why Ozpin would want him there, "Alright, that seems pretty fucking weird sir. If he wants us there, then there has to be a reason. Our LAV platoon would definitely not be a good choice for protecting a static object, not enough manpower to do that. Don't you have a source in Beacon?"

"Fat lot he's doing right now," he shook his head, a mix of mirth and annoyance on his face. "Fucker's always been so fucking mystical and vague. Straight up told me to just come. Cheeky fucker I swear..."

Who even was his source? A clerk or something? No, Goodwitch did all of the paperwork for Beacon… even Jaune knew that. Maybe a janitor, but there was no way a janitor could know so much.

"So," Jaune began. "When's the meeting? I'll probably finish up the workout with my section first, th-"

"It's in two hours, Arc," Alabaster glanced down at his watch.

"Huh? Why only tell me now then?"

The Captain reached out to pat his shoulder, "Because Arc, Striker Group loves springing random shit on us at the last second. Get used to it. Meet me at the Bullhead pads in an hour, then we'll get going. You good?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Great, see you in an hour. Get cleaned up and prepped in a clean set of utilities and you're golden," at the last word, Alabaster spun on his heels, making course for whatever his next destination was.

Jaune looked back at his section on the weights. Good-natured jabs and casual laughter permeated the air, while Razz walked around, supervising his section. Well damn, wasn't that something? Not that far into joining and he was already put in charge of people. In charge of their lives, entrusted by them not to get them killed. He wasn't qualified for any of this, bar a course, albeit a useful one. What kind of experience did he even have? None, that was the answer.

A grim laugh.

It was something alright.

Walking towards them to tell them about the impromptu meeting sprung on him, it finally sunk in that he was a seventeen year old in charge of over a million lien worth of military equipment, between the section and their LAV. Or rather their new LAV, the last one was still being repaired and would be kept on reserve until further notice.

Well, if he'd manage to do one thing, he'd keep everyone safe. He'd make sure his friends came back from each contract in one piece.

He'd very much well keep that, no matter what.

/ - /

Ozpin sipped from his coffee.

Only to realize that it was his third sip from the empty cup. Really, he allocated a portion of Beacon's budget towards coffee, and they still ran out? Absolute madness. It didn't help that Glynda had expected him to attempt to smooth out all of the madness between Roman, the PMC, team RWBY, and the Council. The meetings between him and the Council were them attempting to undermine him at every turn. Why did he let Huntresses roam free to intervene? What will be their punishment? What will you do to make sure they don't interfere with police operations in the future?

Glaring at the offending letter in front of him, it was a formal complaint concerning the number of students becoming vigilantes and causing massive amounts of property damage and injuries.

Luckily for RWBY and Beacon in general, no civilians were severely hurt, and could be paid in cold hard lien for their troubles. Only one person was severely hurt, and that was a Contractor with Striker Group, one Sergeant Razz. Beacon, of course, forked over the lien for his swift recovery, while also generously buying him the state of the art prosthetics.

He stood up from his chair, making his way over to the coffee machine set off to the side. Covering up RWBY's involvement wasn't easy at all. Yes, they were doing the "right" thing, but they also led a Paladin on a chase across Vale, leading to millions of lien paid out in damages. Goodwitch hadn't exactly been too happy with them, and Ozpin could hear their cries of help for an entire week.

The official story had been that Striker Group and police were on a joint operation, when the notorious criminal had used a stolen Paladin to go on a rampage across Vale. The authorities eventually destroyed the Paladin, but Torchwick unfortunately escaped.

As he poured out a new cup of coffee, he chuckled a tiny bit about the Striker Group lawyer demanding they get the main credit for destroying the Paladin. They threatened to release their helmet cam footage, which revealed that RWBY had a hand in the Paladin incident. It was, of course, a small price to pay to not have the public at arms against Beacon for all sorts of things.

Staring back out the view of his window, a slight frown appeared. The whole point of disbanding the Kingdom's militaries sans Atlas was to prevent conflict. A Private Military springing up was not in the books at all. Ozpin grimaced, remembering the several times they tried to set up their own kingdom. The CEO was from all accounts, an ambitious man. So Ozpin wouldn't have put it past him to invade a kingdom and claim it as his own if he managed to set up his kingdom.

James had helped him in the task, but it was not savoury work. No, he'd keep the kingdoms safe, at any cost.

Striker Group helped provide security at the very least, and they were good at it too. Ozpin had only recently decided to accept them for what they were, and cultivated a few well placed sources within. At least, as well placed as they could be.

Some of them had been kicked out for leaking information, which was unfortunate for Ozpin, and mostly to the sources. Their counterintelligence was top notch, and Ozpin would've been surprised to find out Salem managed to keep agents inside their organization for any amount of time.

The sight of an Atlesian battleship floating past only reminded him of the overbearing military presence in Vale. Military might hadn't defeated Salem before, he had tried, and failed. There still was Atlas, but it was mainly for defence, and not offence. Attacking would only spread their resources thinner and thinner. Shows of power did nothing to intimidate Salem, for she was immortal, and nothing could stop her.

Finding out had not been a good time for him. All he could do now was keep her at bay.

It was too bad Jame didn't have a subtle touch. Oh well, some things required a hammer, not a scalpel.

Ozpin still wasn't too sure if Striker Group was a knife, or something else. Maybe one day, someone would pay them to destroy Vale.

Calming thoughts.

All the more reason to plant the seeds to control it anyways.

A ding from his scroll. Taking it out from his coat, it revealed a video feed of James tapping his foot impatiently in the elevator leading up to his office. The scowl on his face was plenty evidence for Ozpin to deduce the general reason for his sudden and not so unexpected arrival.

He sipped his coffee once more, looking out on the vast city of Vale. It was still minuscule compared to what the Grimm controlled, but it was still a beacon for hope in the world.

Ozpin thought he was being witty when he named the academies.

As expected, the elevator behind him dinged as it reached the top. The doors slid open and the fast paced clack of military boots angrily filled the room.

"Ozpin," Ironwood growled from behind. "What have you done?"

He didn't turn around to face the General, instead taking another sip of his coffee, "Hello James. I don't think it's the most polite of things to barge into someone's office and start demanding things, is it?"

Ironwood marched right over to in front of him, boots clinking against the floor, before slamming his huge arms right onto Ozpin's desk. The glare from Ironwood would've been enough to melt the entire CCT tower, he presumed, "You've hired mercenaries to protect the CCT. Are you not thinking straight? Or have you turned into a hypocrite overnight when you said shows of power bring the wrong impression and have now decided to hire bloodthirsty mercenaries for this?"

Sighing, Ozpin started to pace around the desk, where he'd normally sit, "How would you have come across this information? I made quite sure to send it through secure channels, and Striker Group is always so picky about their security that I find it hard that you managed to glean it from them."

"That doesn't matter," Ironwood growled, clenching his fists as he turned to Ozpin. "What does matter is, you're letting mercenaries, whose sole motivation is money, guard our most precious technology. And this is all while we're worrying about Salem's agents infiltrating our ranks! How will you make sure that one of them is not an infiltrator who'll sabotage the CCT?"

Ironwood rubbed his face, moving to the front of the desk, pacing back and forth frantically, "My military is plenty enough security for everything. I can double the guard on the CCT if it means you'll drop this foolish idea of hiring mercenaries."

Ozpin sipped his coffee.

Ironwood stared back.

"It seems you have quite the bias against mercenaries, do you?" Ozpin stood to directly face the General. "I assure you, that the Contractors that I'll be hiring have little to no chance of them being traitors. Anyways, I believe it's about the same probability that there are traitors in your military as with Striker Group James, maybe moreso."

"The men I brought here aren't traitors. I made especially sure," the hard eyed man glared at him. "And how are you so assured that the mercenaries aren't spies?"

"Are you sure about that?" he paused at the side of his desk, an easy smile appearing, moreso to smooth the General than anything. "And to answer your second question, I have my ways of knowing."

"Are you questioning my abilities to tell?"

Ozpin chuckled, moving next to Ironwood, "Not at all James. In fact, I understand that trying to run a large organization is difficult, I happen to know first hand. It's hard to make sure you don't have traitors. It also never hurts to have an outside perspective either. I've already had some of them tell me our security isn't very good to try and bid some contracts with me."

"You were smart not to accept them," Ironwood said. "What happened to even change your mind about military forces?"

"Well," Ozpin took a step forward to Ironwood. "To begin, the little Paladin incident that happened. You remember that?"

"Yes," muttered Ironwood. "Too much already..."

"Well, as you know, Striker Group was involved in it. They weren't all too happy about team RWBY interfering with their operation. Since Striker Group essentially protects Vale, and the Council can conveniently remove them from the yearly body count statistics, the Council wasn't too happy with me letting my students run loose and messing with their operations. They were doing quite well from what I heard. It didn't help that one of their people was injured in the affair."

"So I've heard."

"However, as you've said, it's nothing a little lien and a job won't calm down," he raised his cup at Ironwood. "At least one thing you're right about them. Also, please sit." he motioned to the chair in front of him, before taking a seat himself.

"I'd rather stand, thank you," he replied, crossing his arms sternly. "That still doesn't explain why you're suddenly so open to the idea of… this," he gestured in the air aimlessly. "You've also been so adamant against military forces. What changed?"

A sip of his coffee, and a level expression, "Like I said, pleasing the Council and maintaining a relationship with the only other large military force on Remnant."

Ironwood leaned forward, planting his hands on the desk, "Bullshit?"

"Hm?" a raised eyebrow.

"The only thing a mercenary force cares about is their bottom line. No honour, no loyalty, only to lien. All you'd need to do is flash some lien their way and they'd be perfectly fine to do your bidding. You wouldn't even have to give them a job of guarding the CCT, just give them the appropriate amount of lien and they'll do whatever you want," leaning forward until they were inches apart, Ironwood stared deep into Ozpin's eyes.

"No, there's something else going on here. I've seen the communiques. You specifically asked for someone named Jaune Arc, and a Captain Alabaster, and their platoon for this task," a scroll flew out on the table, courtesy of Ironwood. On it were the intercepted messages between Ozpin and the Striker Group representative. "Captain Alabaster used to be an Atlesian Specialist. Half of his missions were redacted. Jaune Arc ran away from home and used to attend Beacon, before getting kicked out."

"So what's your endgame here Oz?"

One second passed.

Two seconds passed.

Ozpin finished his cup of coffee, setting the now empty cup on his table.

"I suppose I can tell you this. You've done your research, so you know that Mr. Arc used to be a student here until he was quietly forced out after it was revealed he had fake transcripts."

A nod.

"My sources within Striker Group say that Arc has the ability to go very far in the organization. They say he may as well be an officer in a few years if he plays his cards right. Imagine that, a twenty-year-old Beacon dropout leading them," Ozpin leant forward, clasping his hands together on the desk. "It'd be quite useful to have a high ranking leader in their organization on our side, would you not agree? All their capabilities, manpower, ability to be anywhere, at any time, and capability to go outside the law. Would you not agree that would be a great boon for us?"

Ironwood stood, struggling to maintain his composure for a second before responding. "That would… be useful," he choked out. A shake of his head. "Oz, always playing the long game. What about your current sources? Could they not do the same?"

"They are fairly well placed, but a certain incident the highest ranking was involved in prevents him from progressing much further. He also wouldn't be the easiest to control. He's exceedingly independent and probably would balk at serving under us. He's only feeding me information because of an old run in with Qrow years ago. Say, what do you have against Striker Group in general?"

"Five years ago, you remember."

"Ah," Ozpin gestured in understanding. "That unfortunate thing. Well, that's what we're trying to avoid by doing this, aren't we?"

Ironwood remained silent, instead choosing to pace towards the windows behind him. Ozpin remained seated, waiting for a response.

"Would you intend to let Arc know… about everything? In time of course," Ironwood finally said.

"Of course, when he is at a fairly respectable rank and we have his trust. It'd almost be like you, James."

Sighing, the General turned to his old friend, "Very well, I've seen your side of things, and I begrudgingly agree to go along with it. How do you intend on doing this?"

"Oh James," a chuckled as Ozpin pulled out a scroll. "I'd have gone along with it even if you disagreed. Come sit down, it'll take a bit."

Ozpin went through his plan, from beginning to end, in a calm and level voice.

At the end of it, Ironwood sat, massaging his face tiredly, "I can't exactly say I'm surprised to see how thorough you are with this. When is the meeting? I'd like to be there to see."

"Oh," a casual glance at the projection on his table. "In an hour or so."

"At least I won't have to go anywhere," Ironwood grumbled, before sticking his hand into his pocket. "I might as well make it productive."

Placing the scroll on the table, Ironwood leant back to let Ozpin see. It was helmet cam footage from one of the Striker Group Contractors. Curiously, the subtext in the top left corner said that it was from Contractor Arc, Raider 3-3.

What a coincidence.

The following footage was what Ozpin had seen many times already. Four cloaked men appearing out of nowhere, attacking RWBY and the Contractors. Xiao Long had been quite irritated at them when Ozpin spoke to her, stating that she'd, "Kick their asses" the next time she sees them.

He watched the footage without a word, glancing up at the General when it finished, "Yes?"

"The men in that footage. Four cloaks and complete unknowns," Ironwood leant forward in his chair. "My agents recently found evidence of a new group coming into the city. No one knows who they are, and none of my sources can find anything out about them. There's rumours that they're the same one in the video though. We can assume that they're against us at the very least."

"Really."

"Yes, really," an annoyed scowl. "And there is absolutely no information about them. Not even the crimelords have any information other than they're here, and they're working with Torchwick. This is something new and unknown, which I don't like."

A pause, "You say you have no luck?"

"Yes," he replied, grimacing.

"Well, I think I know of an organization with a rather… robust, intelligence service..."

"Ozpin, no."

"James, yes."

Hey hey hey, it's Tophat again with a new chapter.

Again, this seems like a recurring theme where I make chapters shorter than intended. I originally intended for this chapter to include the meeting, but uh, I don't always want to write 10k chapters. So have a 7.8k word one instead.

Don't worry, I'll accidentally write a 16k word slog at one point.

This next arc won't have too much fighting, mostly just Jaune doing, well, you should know where this is going at this point. After that… yeah I have something planned.

In response to a guest review: Yeah, Grimm however, can easily be killed if there's enough bullets going their way. Huntsmen can work by just being so skilled at their jobs that they can single handedly take out a Grimm horde. Mercenaries are expendables gunmen who the Council can use to keep low casualty numbers.

PMCs have their place, and Huntsmen have theirs. The PMCs being the more expendable and numerous option, and Huntsmen being the less numerous, but more skilled option.

Kk now that's over.

Thanks for all the reviews guys, it's been pretty cool reading them. Can't wait for the wave to die and for me to have one review a chapter lmao.

Alright, time for the new section dedicated to Tophat's words of wisdom.

If you're intending on writing something, research it before you do. Like the military, research tactics and shit if you're not actually active duty. Or writing, research how not to seem like an amateur and pretend you're actually good.

Kk words of wisdom over.

Enjoy life, Brandon Herrera has corona, and don't die.

Tophat out.