Hey, didn't see you there. Almost forgot I haven't updated in four weeks. In recompense, I've written 12k words of content. Join the discord, I announce stuff and also will be hosting a DnD game based on the story (More info at the bottom).
discord gg/8gbF2TJ (Link in profile if you want to copy paste).
Anyways, enjoy.
"The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him."
-Gilbert K. Chesterton
Chapter 22: Mourning
The bagpipes blared out its cheerless song.
Even without the context and foreknowledge of what it was, a person could tell from the long, drawn out notes that it was mourning something. The crisp, clear tones told of a quality player with many years of experience under his belt, and many times playing this exact song over and over again. It was a tradition carried down from the founder's Atlesian background to do this on these occasions. A somber tradition, but a tradition nonetheless.
It was all the same with the player. He'd done this too many times to cry now.
Rows upon rows of Contractors, adorned with their pressed dress uniforms, stood in formation flanking both sides of the pathway to the enormous transport airship. Not one faltered, even the one wrapped in casts and face wrapping. Despite the cold wind biting into their bare faces, none of them dared move.
Every single one of them had been there on that fateful day. They all saw what happened.
Six trucks drove up in a column to the assembled formation. They turned around when they neared, exposing their rear to the formation, and with that, the flag draped caskets inside.
Two caskets per truck, six bearers per casket.
Each bearer carefully stepped out of the truck with practiced ease, carrying the casket down on their shoulders with unwelcome familiarity.
The caskets were soon arrayed in two rows of six. Twelve in total. A command was barked from a stout man standing from the side. With it, the bearer began their slow march forward, all of them eventually merging into a single column.
They halted on a command, just in front of two Contractors with ornate scarves hung around their neck. Chaplains.
"We gather today in sorrow," began the bespectacled man. "To mourn the loss of our brothers and sisters in arms in wake of this tragic attack. We remember..."
One by one, the chaplain listed off nine names, clearly enunciating each with care.
The students that had gathered to curiously watch the ceremony were watched carefully by the fully geared Contractor patrolling around. Huntsmen-in-Training and Huntress-in-Training alike stood solemnly by the Contractors. Even those passing by noticed, realizing exactly what was happening, and so took a pause to watch.
A few had been there since before the formation assembled, dipping their heads in respect.
Even those that had decried the Contractors from the beginning knew well enough not to disrespect the dead.
The Contractors on guard paid extra attention to the ones who attended. After all, they heard, they weren't in a trusting mood.
One particular raven haired Haven student stood next to the formation with both of her teammates flanking her. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked on, the same with her compatriots.
Only a scant few understood the irony of their presence.
"They fought with the Company, for whatever reason they may have. We may be Contractors, but instilled within are values, values that we treasure. Each and every Contractor lost in the line of duty these past days embodied these values. We shall remember them. Their name liveth forevermore."
Simultaneously, the two chaplains about turned sharply and precisely, religious texts in hand, heads held high.
"Contractors!" came the loud, booming voice of the Chief Warrant Officer of the contingent. "To the front, salute!"
As one, every able bodied Contractor within the formation snapped up their hands, performing a crisp salute. Even the ones wrapped up in bandages and casts. Those that could threw up a shaky salute, the painkillers still running through their veins.
The wounded and injured didn't have to attend.
Even those still stuck in their beds requested to be rolled out.
When the Beacon medical staff denied it on grounds of health, a small team of Contractors broke in and snuck them out. When the medical staff finally found them, they were midway through the ceremony. Despite the staff's protests, they weren't allowed past by the guards.
One by one, the caskets passed by, each carried on the shoulders of six Contractors. Each draped in a flag with crossed lightning bolts over them.
The bagpipes continued playing its sorrowful song.
Jaune Arc held up his salute as the last casket passed by, watering eyes letting a single tear roll down his cheek.
"Attention," came the quiet, whispered command from the ramp of the airship. A synchronized shuffle of feet as the casket bearers turned. "Quick, march,"
As one, every single bearer marched out of the opening, the formation beginning to wheel to the left, between the gap left between the main formation and the airship.
The same Chief Warrant Officer spoke, or rather yelled out the next command, "Contractors! Stow, arms!"
Every salute came down at once.
Clack, clack, clack.
Captain Alabaster, acting Task Force Commander, clothed in his ceremonial uniform, which Jaune had hardly even seen him in, made his way to the front of the formation. Where the trucks had stopped to unload their contents. On his chest were countless medals. Many for bravery, many for things Jaune didn't have the faintest clue what was. His face was merely a hard set stare, with a thin, straight mouth. He stopped, eyes sweeping over the assembled Contractors.
"We've suffered a loss," he stated. A few flinched, but the rest remained stalwart. "While these attackers have not only attacked the CCT, our responsibility. These attackers have struck us at our core. Not our hardware, our information, or anything material." his eyes hardened. "No, they struck against our people. They've taken away our own. They've taken away twelve of our brothers and sisters in arms."
Clack, clack, clack. Alabaster paced down the formation of Contractors, eyeing all of them with a look that could cut steel in half, "Every single one of you in this formation was there on the attack. Every single one of you saw what they did to us."
Pause, a breath. One eighty turn, pacing the opposite direction he came, "You may feel disheartened, demoralized, and unmotivated. I understand. The path we've chosen is a hard one. One fraught with danger and peril, but to stray from this path now would be to throw away the sacrifice our brothers and sisters in arms have made, and they have made those sacrifices. We all fight for different reasons, but we all fight together, for our fellow Contractor to our left and right. That is our unifying reason."
He stopped where he started, "I promise you this, we will find the perpetrator, through hell or high water. Contractors, dismissed."
The formation dissolved as the Contractors turned, and marched away, before eventually devolving into a mass of them.
Jaune found himself soon leaning against a nearby pillar, quickly escaping the horde of uniforms. He'd only worn the dress uniform about one time before? When Moss was teaching them how to wear it. It was tight, restrictive, and had far too much going on for Jaune to understand more than just putting it on. This needed to be like this, that needed to be like that. His dress uniform hadn't even been updated with his Corporal chevrons until the day before.
He spent the whole of last night preparing it anyway. A small price to pay in comparison to the price the ones the ceremony was for paid.
It had all been so damn much. He just...
Slowly, he closed his eyes, mentally blocking out the outside noise.
"Are you Jaune?"
Evidently, he didn't do such a good job. He cracked open an eye, "Yeah? And who are you?"
"I'd thought you would've recognized me. Oh well. Maybe you'll recognize my teammates."
It was Cinder Fall dressed up in her school uniform. Probably the most formal thing she had to wear. That or she was coming here between classes.
There were also Emerald and Mercury next to her. They all bore the same mournful looks, looking slightly down at the ground, with the same pursed lips and downcast eyes. Both of them were off to the side, with Cinder directly facing him.
What is this, an interrogation?
"Oh yeah, Cinder right? I think I saw you at the dance. You came to the ceremony?"
Cinder dipped her head, "It was the least we could do to pay our respects, even if the guards seem to not particularly like us."
"Eh, we're all on edge. Not to mention the rumours."
She canted her head, "What rumours?"
Jaune briefly considered what he was doing, but it was just rumours, wasn't it? "Rumours that a student attacked us. Just rumours though, can't exactly trust them."
"Ah," Cinder shook her head. "I can't say I know someone who would do such a thing, but I'll make sure to keep an eye out. Sorry for your loss by the way."
"Don't say sorry if you didn't do it," Jaune tried to smirk, only to have his mouth move in an odd shape, and his eyes not following. "I didn't know any of them well. But I was acquaintances with some. Didn't hit me as hard as some others."
Jaune stumbled through the wreckage of the TOC, rifle slung by his side, desperately trying to find a survivor. A groan from beneath him caught his attention. A young man, not even twenty yet and yet one of his arms was completely missing, gushing blood like a geyser.
"Well, I'm still sorry for your loss anyways," Cinder said, biting her lip. "It's a terrible thing that happened."
"Really is," he sighed, pausing for a second before nodding towards Mercury, the silver-haired one, "Hey, you're Mercury, right?"
"Yeah," he scratched his head idly. "How'd you know my name?"
A search through the database given to me, "Finch told me about his talks with Emerald, and therefore about you guys too."
Emerald started shuffling around, grabbing at an arm, "How much did he tell you?"
A snort, "Not anything personal, trust me. He knows better than to spill someone else's secrets."
A slight grin came to Cinder's face, "Maybe the only good thing to be happening now is a romance blossoming between two members of our teams."
Emerald's face flushed red as she quickly turned away.
"Yeah, maybe," came his same, tired voice.
"Shame we had to properly meet under such morbid circumstances," remarked Cinder offhandedly. "Emerald pointed you out, and I wanted to come talk to you. I heard about what you did that night. Wonderful display of bravery, if I'd say so."
Jaune bit his lip, "I did my job. I tried to save them. Some, I succeeded, some, I failed."
Jaune knelt down next to the man desperately gasping for air, "You're going to be alright, got it?"
Something squished as he knelt. It was the remnants of his left leg, now just a mangled mess of meat. The Contractor screeched out in pain, ripping through the air, and making him cringe away.
"I'm going to get you out of here, c'mon, I'm going to lift you, okay?" Jaune began trying to lift the man up, only to hear the sickening sound of flesh ripping apart. Thump! The remnants of a leg dropped to the ground.
Apparently, Cinder noticed his eyes wandered off, "Hey, you there?"
Blinking, "Yeah, here."
"Sorry if I brought up some memories. Are you alright?"
He shook his head, "Yeah, I'm fine."
Cinder opened her mouth to speak again, only for another voice to cut her off, "Hey, Arc!"
Jaune glanced over at the source. Captain Alabaster, dress uniform and all. He was walking over to them, with each step a clack of his boots.
"Yessir?" Jaune pushed himself off the pillar.
Alabaster stopped a few feet away, glancing briefly at Cinder and her team, "I need to have a word with you, privately if I may."
Cinder looked a bit miffed at first before the respectful look returned. She nodded, "Of course. I'll give you some space."
Very quickly, they were gone, disappearing into the urban jungle that was Beacon.
Jaune turned to Alabaster, straightening out his uniform, "So what did you want to talk about?"
"Nothing," Alabaster said simply. "Just didn't like how she was eyeing you."
"That was really it?" Jaune raised an eyebrow.
Alabaster tilted his head back and forth like he was thinking, "Well, I also wanted to come check up on you."
"Hmph."
Alabaster's glanced someplace else for a moment, before snapping back to what he was looking at and turning his entire body to face it. Head going first, then the body following. Jaune followed his gaze, finding himself looking at the airship's ramp raising.
No, it wasn't just Alabaster, every Contractor was watching the airship's ramp raise.
The engines flared, slowly lifting the massive aircraft up.
Clack! One salute came up.
Then another.
Then more.
Then every Contractor present had raised their hand in salute.
They kept it up until the airship was little more than a dot in the distant sky.
Jaune turned back to Alabaster, "So you're in command now, huh?"
"Temporary OiC of this part of the Taskforce. The people from Second Batt are commanded by a Major. Stuck me in charge of the parade because I was the OiC on the day of the attack," Alabaster pulled a cigarette box out of his breast pocket, offering it to him. Jaune shook his head. "Your loss Jaune."
"What now, sir?"
Alabaster's lighter flickered as he brought it up to his cigarette, "Finding the fuckers. The intel guys' initial investigation says that the attacker infiltrated this school somehow. That or they blended in with the student population." Pursed lips, "I personally think they blended with the students then got out of dodge with a bullshit semblance."
A ball of smoke floated out of Alabaster's mouth, "The Intel guys are coming down hard on this. I'm pretty sure they're in the midst of convincing Oz to let them interrogate every student even the slightest bit involved. I think 'ol Ironwood's trying to push that same thing with allowing him to get a piece of the interrogation. Helps that the first years disobeyed his orders, so that's going to play into their detention or something."
Alabaster pointed a hand up to a nearby roof, which had a small ball looking thing on a gimbal of some sort. It kind of looked like the commander's camera he had on his LAV, "See that? That's an anti-drone laser. We see anything coming in on radar that isn't ours we laser the fuck out of it."
"All this..." a sigh. "And we didn't find the attacker. You think interrogating every single student is going to help?"
"Maybe, maybe not," another puff of smoke. "But I know the Intel guys aren't going to leave any stone unturned. Especially after their latest revelation."
By now, most of the Contractors were done paying respects to the impromptu memorial left behind, with most of them departing to get back to work, "What would that be?"
A bigger puff of smoke, "Sabyr Group rearing its ugly head."
"What?"
"Keep it down, Jaune," Alabaster pulled out his scroll, flicking it open and quickly pulling up something to show him. "This was found on one of the bodies of an Atlesian in the CCT."
A picture of a playing card, a snarling Sabyr Grimm overlaying an ace of spades.
"This," Alabaster grunted through the cigarette in his mouth, waving the scroll at Jaune, "is probably going to be the only reason 'ol Oz up in his high tower is going to let the Intel guys do their thing."
Pause.
A deep breath.
"You've gotta be shitting me," Jaune looked up at the sky. Out of all places he expected Sabyr Brigade to be, Beacon was the last place he'd expect.
Alabaster slid the scroll right back into his pocket, "I am not, indeed, shitting you."
"What's next?"
"Extensive debriefing for you and your team, and just about every involved. We're getting everyone's statements and all that shit. Forensics and all are coming here to do their thing. We stay out of their way and let them do their thing, while we go on our merry way doing our jobs and make sure our men are in the right state of mind."
"So the platoon's sitting around and not doing anything right now?"
Alabaster's eyes hardened, "You're taking care of your people, Jaune. If you're sitting around doing nothing that's your own fault. There's always something to be done. We give our statements to Intel, who was extremely good at their jobs, need I remind you, and they go find the assholes who did this. Understood?"
"Understood," just a sigh.
Alabaster gave him a light punch on the shoulder, "Good, now go find your section. Go over what you did, and make sure they're all alright in the head."
"Yessir," and with that, Jaune began walking away.
"And Jaune?" called out the Captain, Jaune turning around to look back. "Make sure to look after yourself. I don't need one of my crew commanders burning themselves out."
"Yessir," a crisp nod.
With that, Jaune walked away, just a bit more frustrated than before.
/ - /
"I was just exiting the dancehall when I saw this person on one of the roofs," Ruby began, eyes nervously darting around the bare room. Empty save for the table, two chairs, and a one-way window. One for the interrogatee, and one for the interrogators. She'd already been in here once, but then they released her. So when a pair of uniformed men approached her… "Why am I here again? I already told you everything before."
The interrogator nodded, writing something down in his notepad, "I just arrived here, for the express purpose of getting down to the bottom of who was behind all this. I prefer to interview everyone myself. My colleagues usually do too. Standard procedure."
What was left unsaid that they wanted to see their body language.
Ruby shuffled around in her seat, eyes darting upwards for a split second, "Alright um, after that I..."
/ - /
"I told Ozpin what Jaune said," Pyrrha said, patiently waiting in her seat. Jaune had stressed upon her the importance of finding the ones who attacked Beacon, and she found herself agreeing quite a bit. "Keep everyone inside the dancehall."
The interrogator glanced at his notes, before giving the champion a bemused smile, "I assume that didn't go to plan, considering the notes I have in front of me."
Pyrrha shook her head, "No, it really didn't. Ozpin did manage to keep everyone inside for a bit, but he had to go and… well he didn't say what he had to do but I assume it had to do with the attack. Probably helping organize Beacon staff or something."
"Right," the interrogator scribbled something down. "Continue."
"After he left, some of the students started arguing to go out of the dancehall and try to find whoever was attacking them," Pyrrha said. "Of course, we didn't know much about what was happening outside, we were just thinking in practical terms. You don't want to stay crowded in a place after bombs are going off, right? Plus we were all capable combatants and were training to protect the world. It'd be wrong to just… not do something."
"I can see where you're coming from, but that still doesn't exactly make me think highly of your actions," he tapped his pencil on his notepad. "Tell me, who exactly was leading the charge to leave the dancehall?"
The champion grimaced. This would be snitching on her fellow students, wouldn't it? But it'd be to catch the ones who attacked Beacon…
"Well..."
/ - /
Emerald Sustrai was sweating buckets.
Internally of course. On the outside, she was as cool as cucumbers.
"Please confirm with me your location the entire night?" the bearded man in front of her asked.
"Dancehall the entire night. Then I went outside to help you guys."
The interrogator flipped through his notebook, glancing up at her, "Says here that you were one of the most vocal in going out of the dancehall, in direct defiance of Headmaster Ozpin's orders," to her nonresponse, he scoffed. "Relax, I'm not one of your Professors. I can't punish you for things like this unless you were the attacker. Though I'm assured the staff are taking care of your punishment well enough."
Oh, how he would've loved to know she played a part in the attack that killed twelve of his comrades. Of course, Emerald really preferred him not to know.
"Yes, yes I was."
"Please explain your rationale behind your actions," the interrogator portrayed himself as someone with his nose stuck in his notes, but Emerald knew all too well that he was watching her like a hawk.
One false slip and she'd ruin everything.
"I..." a pause. "It didn't sit right with me that we, the future protectors of humanity, were just sitting around. There was an attack going on right outside, and what could we do? Apparently nothing. All because one of your guys told us to stay inside, and then that convinced the Headmaster to tell us to stay where we were. What if there was a bomb inside there too? What would you do if there was an attack on your… whatever base you have, huh?"
The interrogator scratched his head offhandedly, "Well, first of all, we have communications and are usually well coordinated. So we can coordinate a defence and counterattack without all the chaos you would cause, but that's besides the point." he leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the table and staring right at her.
Then stared.
And stared.
He didn't break eye contact.
He just stared, right into her soul.
She looked away first.
"What do you know?" came the simple question.
Startled, she nearly jumped out of her seat. Instead, she perked up her head and furrowed her eyebrows, "What do you mean? Did I do something?"
"It's a simple question," he continued staring. "What do you know?"
"I-I don't know what you're trying to ask," flabbergasted and shocked was what she was going for, and she hoped it showed in her voice. "All I know is that I was at the dance with my team,"
Silence.
"After we heard the explosions, we didn't want to just… sit around and do nothing. We didn't want to leave the protection of Beacon to a bunch of hired guns."
A dull stare.
"So, Mercury and I—he's my partner—decided enough was enough and convinced everyone to get off their asses and act like the Huntsmen and Huntresses they are. After that, we went out and started looking around. We uh… realized we couldn't do much so my team leader told us we should help with you guys. So we did."
The interrogator kept staring, "You went real fast from insulting us to helping us out."
"It's… we didn't know what exactly was going on inside the dancehall, but when we went out, we got a better picture of what was happening. We realized that we probably couldn't do much better than you by just running around and hoping we'd stumble upon who was responsible… so we decided to talk to one of the Contractors and see what we could help with."
"Alright," the interrogator had his pencil ready to scribble something down on his notepad. "Can you tell me the names of your teammates?"
Emerald didn't hesitate. That would blow her cover, "Well, my team leader is..."
/ - /
"Cinder Fall," as the interrogator entered the room, he extended a hand forward to the raven-haired beauty in front of him. "Thanks for agreeing to this."
Cinder shook the offered hand, "Well, not like I have much choice when the Professor told us that Atlas and Striker Group want to question us all. Quite a stir you two made among the student population."
"Not the intended effect, but the expected one," the interrogator pulled back the chair. It was just her and him, no second interrogator. He preferred to work alone, and the good cop bad cop routine wouldn't work on whoever had orchestrated the attack while infiltrating Beacon, if they even did.
He didn't worry about the interrogatee getting aggressive. There were gas canisters stashed around the room for that.
As the interrogator flipped through his notebook, Cinder cocked her head, "A notebook. You know scrolls work better and are more efficient, right?"
"Ah, I like writing by hand," the interrogator looked up at her. "Do you particularly need anything? I know you've been sitting in here for a bit. I got caught up in something else, so I apologize for the delay."
Cinder shook her hand at the apology, "No need to apologize, I know this is all to catch the attacker that killed so many of your people. I'm willing to wait an extra few minutes to help you. Although, I wouldn't be averse to a bottle of water."
The interrogator nodded, before turning back to the door and asking the guard to fetch a bottle of water for the interviewee.
Then it was back to business, "I'll get to the point, where were you when the attacks happened?"
"Inside the dancehall with my team. We were doing normal dance stuff when it happened. Absolutely terrible about what happened, my condolences to the families of those killed."
"Those condolences will be noted," said the interrogator in a clinical tone. "Who can verify your presence other than your team?"
Oh, this was getting interesting. Maybe they were onto something, "I thought there were security cameras in there that could show I was there."
"Perhaps, but you never know, the network could be compromised. Is there someone that could verify your presence?"
"Well, I don't really interact with anyone outside my team, you know? So it's a bit hard to answer it. But if I had to think of one..." Cinder scratched her chin. "I think one of your own can say he saw me in passing. A… Jaune Arc I believe."
"How so in passing?"
"I'm fairly sure he saw me, but didn't talk to me."
"Hm."
Cinder crossed her legs, and spoke in a sultry tone, "Anything else?"
"Full recap of your movements the entire night, if you will."
A nod, "Alright, so..."
/ - /
"Corporal Jaune Arc," the interrogator tiredly said. "Been a long day for me, and I wouldn't usually be debriefing you currently, but it has come to my attention that you are pertinent in some parts of my investigation, in more ways than one."
He grimaced. An investigator saying you were involved was never good, "How so?"
"Well, that's where I want to start," he flipped through his notes. "Says here you entered the dancehall at one point in the night even though your vehicle was on QRF duty. Why is that?"
"Everything's part of the security considerations. Maybe something changed last second in there and we weren't told about it. Maybe there was a security compromise there. Who'd tell us about it? The students? I don't think so."
"Says here you used to be a student at Beacon." pause, scribbling. "Pretty young to be a Corporal, if I say so myself."
"Sir," Jaune eyed the captain epaulettes, "are you saying that I let that influence my decision making? I asked permission from Captain Alabaster, and he approved it."
"I'm not," the interrogator stopped scribbling, looking up at him. "I'm just stating the facts. Can you tell me what you did there?"
"I entered the dancehall while talking to a few of the students there. They didn't notice anything odd happening, and after further verification, I thought the same."
The interrogator had a bemused smile, "You used to go to Beacon, then you go inside the dancehall to purportedly reconfirm the security situation within, and now you're talking to who's probably your former teammates? Not a good look for you, Corporal. What did you do after you confirmed that the security situation remained the same?"
"I..." a moment of hesitation. "I made brief contact with Ozpin when I was about to head back to my LAV. However, I was briefly distracted by a partygoer, leading to me being caught off guard by the attack. I still count that as a success, because I passed on an order for all of them to stay put, which from talking to some of my friends I gather stopped them from immediately going out."
"Well," an idle head scratch. "I must say, I have interviewed just about a tenth of the first year at this point, and I have most of their statements. I must say, their statements match exactly with yours." at the furrow of Jaune's eyebrows, the interrogator let a small smile onto his face. "Captain Alabaster and I compared notes, and we found that you acted within, if not in the exact borders, of the TTPs."
Oh.
"I see… sir."
"Carrying on," the interrogator fished out a dossier and laid it on the desk. "Did you see this person at the dance?"
Jaune leaned forward, peering at the photograph. It was of a raven haired student. Cinder Fall. Emerald's team leader, "At the dance? Um..." a moment. "Yeah, I think so. In passing, like… I saw her in the crowd. Not a hundred percent ID, but mostly positive."
"That so?"
"Yessir."
More flipping through his notes, "There is about one last thing I need you for, and then I can hand you off to your OiC for the regular debriefing..." a grimace. "It's involving your team. I'm just giving you a complementary heads up so you don't get caught off guard. However, we'll retain you in the building until we can bring him in."
Pause, "Who?"
The interrogator set his notepad on the table, leaning forward to look at him, "It's involving..."
/ - /
"Contractor Finch Gold," the interrogator glanced up at the uniformed teenager standing behind the metal chair. "Take a seat."
Finch did so, "Can I ask why I'm here?"
"I'll be blunt since you're an employee of Striker Group. Our investigation has yielded evidence of loitering munitions being used in the attack."
Loitering munitions. Or more well known as suicide drones.
He cocked his head in confusion, "Huh? I thought we would've detected any enemy drones in the airspace. I personally set up the radars myself and tested them. It definitely worked..."
"It would've, had the attacking drones not been tagged as friendly on the IFF."
Rapid blinking, then a gaping mouth, "What? How? You can't spoof the IFF without breaking into our system and stealing the codes from there!"
"Well," he rubbed his nose in a fake expression of exhaustion. Oh, he was tired, but he'd done this enough times that he could power through without any signs of exhaustion and collapse. "You would have to do that if the attacking drones didn't come from us."
Wide eyes.
"And this armoury."
Silence.
He took a pause, before fishing more photos out from his dossier, and sliding them onto the table, "Investigators recovered the wreckages, and from the serial numbers on the intact parts, we now know at least some of them come from this very armoury. We then looked into it a bit more and found out that an alert was put out by the Technical Section Chief that they were looking for drones that were taken without signing them out."
"Sir, if I can explain..."
"Oh please do."
"I..." Finch paused, seemingly finding the right words to say. "I was the one doing inventory on the drone stock when I realized the number of drones didn't match the number signed out. So I recounted about… three times and then I called the Section Chief to confirm. We did confirm that I was counting right and there were indeed missing drones. Afterwards, he told me he'd go and check around with the TOC to see if anyone had taken the drones without telling us."
"How many were missing?"
"Six Dagger drones, sir."
"Quite a lot for a single person to just forget to sign out, is that not?"
"...yes sir."
The interrogator stopped taking notes for a moment, instead, taking the moment to stare at Finch, "Do you know what our background checks turned up?"
A noticeable gulp, "I wouldn't know, sir."
"You used to be in a gang, correct?"
"Yessir."
The interrogator tapped a pencil on his notepad, "Says here you left them the moment a Striker Group Recruiter poked their head around your area. You were pretty open about your former affiliation too."
"Yessir."
Pause, "That's the same with one of your other section members, isn't it?"
"Yessir, Jay Winchester, sir."
The interrogator stared unblinkingly into his eyes, seemingly taking in every molecule of his existence.
Finch swallowed hard. Where was this going? Was he going to get a reprimand for letting drones go missing?
"So, Contractor Gold, can you explain to me why we found one of your personal drones that you've built and registered with us in pieces in one location of an enemy suicide attack?"
What the fuck?
"Yes Contractor, what the fuck is this?"
Ah, maybe he said that out loud.
"Sir, my personal stores are maintained in the armoury, as per protocol-"
The interrogator leaned forward, obsidian eyes piercing his soul, "I personally did a recount of the armoury, which, for your information, was only rattled around from the drone they tried to dive in it. Fuckers failed to realize we armour that shit," a snort. "And I found every single one of your personal drones in stock as per the inventory list. So, Contractor Gold, where the fuck did this-" he shot to his feet, leaning forward and slamming a picture on the table. It was of the very same personal drone he carried around in his combat load. "-come from?"
Finch thought hard, he really did.
Who the hell could've stolen one off him and had him not notice for probably days?
He racked his brain back and forth, trying every single possibility in his head, every single possible culprit but one.
That one was dismissed from his mind immediately.
"I… don't know sir."
Silence.
The interrogator stood straight up, looking down on Finch as he sighed, "Contractor, I'm fucking disappointed in your gear accountability. How often do you do gear checks?"
"Every day, sir."
"Do your drones have their own control scheme?"
"Yessir, but I believe anybody could probably figure it out given enough time."
"Control system?"
"Proprietary, but it can be linked to a standard GCS if needed." GCS, or Ground Control Station.
He paced around the interrogation room, finally coming to a stop beside Finch, "Command is looking for someone to pin the blame on. And if they can't fucking find the real fuckers who did this? I'd say you're might be suspicious enough that an entrepreneuring Officer might find it prudent to stir some shit up about you. You're this close to getting fucking fired, tossed in jail, and I don't fucking know. But you know why not?"
"No sir."
"A combination of good fucking will, your competence in your field, and your CO vouching for you. Do you know how much he's putting on the line stopping you from eating shit?"
"His career, sir."
"Yes, his fucking career, Contractor," a sigh, and the interrogator pulled away, soon returning to his seat. "You'll receive an official reprimand. You'll not be put on suspension because our numbers are stretched as they are. Captain Alabaster will handle the rest. Get the fuck out of here."
"Yessir," Finch shot up to his feet, quickly, he started making his way to the door.
"And Contractor?"
"Yessir?"
"You did mostly everything else right. Get the fuck out."
Bewildered at the last statement, Finch hastily left the interrogation room.
The interrogator waited until the door behind him clicked audibly. Then, he let out a sigh.
"Only the..." he rubbed his forehead, trying to jog his memory. "Next few batches of students to question. At least this batch's been helpful..."
"Captain, do you want me to send in the next batch?" a disembodied voice spoke out from the speaker in the corner of the room. Staticy and tinny, a result of the impromptu setup.
"Bring them in," he rubbed his face with both hands. "God, I wonder why the hell did they only send five interrogators?"
The speaker actuated again, "Dunno sir. I'm just a Corporal. I'm sending in the first of the next batch. You ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," another long sigh. "Send 'em in."
/ - /
The investigator leaned over the shoulder of his companion, who had a display on a table in front of him. The room the investigation team was allocated was fairly large, with all the electronics and information technologies they could ever want. It was also secure, guarded by two sections at all times, and that was the most important part.
"Please, explain this again for me."
The tech specialist pointed to the display in front of him, "See this? This is all the footage we've been able to recover from our guy's helmet cams."
On the display was a grainy helmet cam video of a Contractor, rifle pointed towards an elevator. On the top left were the words Contractor Wilkins, 1-2B.
The elevator door suddenly opened, and a black blur dashed out, quickly cutting up the closest Contractor.
He already knew all of this from looking at the scene himself. He had been the one doing the forensics, after all.
As the video played out, it just confirmed what he already knew. Knight 1-2 was completely and utterly decimated to a man. It showed Contractor Wilkins suddenly pausing after making a transmission on his radio. Slowly, the Contractor turned his neck.
Then, it started glitching.
The Technician tapped a finger on the screen, pausing the video, "We think that the frag grenade he used probably hit the camera with shrapnel, likely corrupting the rest of the footage."
The investigator scratched his chin, a detached expression still on his face, "What about the other helmet cameras?"
"Destroyed. The infiltrator probably knew about it and took the time to destroy every camera that she encountered. We don't do live uploads for obvious reasons. Too many security compromises you know."
"I know that," he growled. "I'm not an old ass Officer who's out of touch with technology nowadays. What about the Atlesians? Don't they have cameras in their fancy helmets of theirs?"
The Technician grimaced, "The Atlesian aren't responding to my requests. They say that they need to review their footage first. Though I may have… well I didn't have one of my brighter Tech Specialist break into their database. Though, hypothetically if he did, he found something about the footage magically getting erased from all places off their database."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" the investigator groaned, beginning to pace around the room. "First, we have no footage of the attacker closeup, but Atlas' information network is compromised? Are you fucking kidding me?"
"I'm not kidding you, sir."
"Well," the investigator stopped his pacing, leaning back on a table and rubbing his weary face with a hand. "Nothing we can do but try our best now, can we?"
The Technician shrugged, "All we can do."
"All we can fucking do..."
/ - /
"And from there, I helped your people with damage control. I'm sure they have a record of me helping and you can verify that. Terrible, everything that happened," some tears rolled down Cinder's face as she finished, sniffing as she wiped the fake tears away. "I'm sorry for everyone that was killed."
"It's fine, not like you killed them or anything," the interrogator mentioned offhandedly.
Oh how much you don't know…
"Alright," Cinder nodded, blinking away the rest of her tears. She let an edge of concern creep into her voice. "Anything else I can do for you?"
The interrogator flipped through his notes, before glancing up, "Not much. I suppose we're just about done here. Thank you for your time."
"No," Cinder stood up, reaching a hand forward. "Thank you for your time trying to find the perpetrators of these terrible acts."
A hasty nod as he accepted the handshake, "Well, in any case, you may leave now."
"Alright, goodbye, Captain," and with that, Cinder slipped out of the interrogation room, tearful expression still on her face as she made her way out of the building.
Very quickly, she was back in her room scot-free, and convinced her acting had worked on the Striker Group Interrogator.
She supposed being the best in the business was easy when you were the only one in the business.
Still, she made sure to sweep her room for listening devices again, just to make sure.
/ - /
"Finch," came the voice of his Crew Commander, the edge of disappointment on his voice. "You just got done talking with the Captain in there, yeah?"
Finch let the door to the "interview" building behind him shut softly, gulping softly as he looked around him. It was only Jaune, thankfully, but the expression on his face was enough to make up for everyone else that was missing. Jaune pushed off the wall he was leaning off of, motioning for him to come closer. Curiously, he didn't have a beret, but Finch didn't let that distract him from that disappointment radiating off him.
"Yeah, Jaune. Just did," he stopped just beside him.
Jaune gestured his head towards a nearby path, "Let's take a walk."
Finch followed Jaune as they started. Jaune wouldn't be… angry with him, right? That just… wasn't like him. Not with his section at least.
Jaune let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair, "Finch, during my short debrief with the kind officer interrogating us all, at the very end, he mentioned well… you already know, don't you? Do I need to recap it?"
"No, Jaune," a shake of his head. "He was pretty specific with his details, and I don't have that short of a memory."
Maybe being more formal with this would end better.
"You know," Jaune continued after a pause. "I didn't tell anyone in the section about this yet. I wanted this to at least remain fairly low profile. One lesson Alabaster told me about was praise in public and criticize in private. Figured I'd do that now."
"So… anything specifically you want to talk about?" Finch began rubbing his hands together, fidgeting a bit with his fingers.
"He told me about the armoury stuff, which he and I both agree you follow protocol fairly well. Any mistakes made there are being put on the Sergeant's shoulders. My main concern is about your personal drones."
"I don't know how it was stolen," he immediately said. "I do daily gear checks to make sure I have everything I need, and I think I'd realize if I was missing a drone that has an explosive yield of a mortar round. So the only possibility is if they stole it from me just after my check."
"When was that?"
"Early morning, when I first stepped off."
"Can you think of anyone you came in contact with that could've swiped a drone off you?"
Finch thought hard. He really did. But in the end, the one person who did was immediately dismissed from consideration, "No. Can't think of anyone."
Another long sigh, "I'm not going to reiterate what the interrogator probably asked a hundred times, but I'll just say this has been an utter shitshow."
"Really has."
They continued walking in silence for a moment, before Jaune spoke again, "You've been given a letter of reprimand. I'm pretty sure you're on probation at the moment, and the investigators are looking for a fucking scapegoat. You're pretty lucky we have Alabaster as our OiC. I think he pulled just about every string he could for you."
"Wonder why," Finch knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, but Alabaster helped him a lot more than he should've…
"Wonder why..." Jaune suddenly stopped, turning to face Finch. He did the same. "I'll be brief. Finch, people make mistakes. I sure as hell did my first time, as you remember Vi's temper tantrum."
A quick chuckle from both of them.
Jaune's tone suddenly shifted, to a sterner one, "You made a mistake just now, letting one of your drones go unaccounted for. From what I'm told, that's about the only mistake you made in this situation. Lav told me you did an exemplary job up in the sniper tower, coordinating everything after the TOC went down. So I'll let this one go without much action from me. The keyword is much. Understood?"
"Understood," a nod.
"Alright, um..." Jaune looked away suddenly, rubbing his temples. "There's… there's not much else to talk about… sorry if I seem harsh. Not used to dealing with this stuff you know."
"It's fine," Finch hesitated before continuing, not entirely sure if what he was asking was appropriate. "Do you know what happens next?"
Pause, "You," he emphasized the word, "get back to the section. You're welcome to tell them about it, or not tell them about it. Just don't lie. Talk about what everyone did, and what could've been improved. Or just talk to them. I think most people need to talk to someone after that." the last part came out a whisper.
Jaune continued on, "After this, I don't know what we're doing as a unit. Right now, they're just trying to figure out who did it. The investigation might take months, even. Though we probably have a week at best before Ozpin starts telling them to get out. If I get information I'll make sure to tell everyone. Now go. I'll meet up with them after I take care of a few things. Get going." Jaune hit him lightly in the shoulder.
"Gotcha," a nod. "Later?"
"Later."
Jaune waited until Finch was well out of earshot, before turning to a bench just ahead of him on the path, "Alabaster."
The seated man glanced up from his book, cigarette clenched between his teeth, "Nice of you to finally spot me, sitting out in the open, on a bench, reading a book, in uniform, and with his face not hidden. Take a seat."
Jaune took a seat next to the Captain, "I spotted you from when we stopped."
"Finch didn't."
"That was the point of me stopping with him there."
"You'll have to correct his observation skills whenever you do your corrective training."
"Suppose he has that corrective training to look forward because of you, why'd you put so much on the line?"
A puff of smoke from his cigarette, "Eh. I have my reasons
Jaune waited for a continuation. There was none, "And are you going to tell me those reasons?"
Alabaster closed his book, laying it down beside him, "Nope."
"So, what was your reason for conveniently being on this bench and asking me to sit down then?"
"Easy," Alabaster took the stub of a cigarette still left in his mouth, dropping it onto the ground and crushing it with the heel of his boot. "Passing on the information of what we're doing next."
"Oh?"
"Raider Company is being taken off of Beacon. Ozpin resisted, of course, but I convinced him that you'd be able to better pursue your given assignment when not tethered to this place. So now we're back to being a free range LAV Company, with your section being held back by a long chain."
A scratch of his head, "Oh, uh… I thought we'd riding this contract out until the Vytal Festival."
He shrugged, "We would've been probably if we didn't find our old enemy doing their thing here. However we did, so the higher ups are taking us out of here and doing what we should've been doing had Ozpin not taken a special interest in you. Taking the fight to them."
A pair of students walked past, talking loudly to each other. Nonetheless, the two of them waited for the students to pass them before continuing.
"Should we really be discussing these things in the open? We have a briefing room for this stuff you know," remarked Jaune.
"Shouldn't you have a beret on while walking around?" shot back Alabaster. "I've already told the other section leads about it. This is just a movement from Beacon to the base again. Plus people are too unaware of their surroundings anyway. See these students? They aren't aware unless it's in a combat situation."
"Speaking of the students, mind giving me a hint of how the investigation is going? We find any students that are actually Sabyr Brigade plants?"
Alabaster was quiet for a moment, beginning to massage the bridge of his nose, "I'll… I was read in on the investigation. I've seen where it's at."
"And?"
"We have no hard evidence. No students suddenly breaking in the interrogation phase and spilling their secrets. No smoking gun that we can use to kick a door in and arrest someone. Some soft leads, but I already have a feeling they won't go anywhere. This thing might take months. By then we're already going to be onto the next mystery or attack, and this will be news by then, the investigators reassigned to something fucking else."
A solid blink, "Months mean that the attacker could just slip out at any time and escape."
"Exactly."
"Fuck," Jaune rubbed his forehead, letting out a sigh. "Anything else I should know? Or is that everything?"
"The platoon is going to be supporting SOG for a while. We'll handle your detachment from us at a later time. Look, we're going to go through a briefing later today at 1800 for the movement from here to the base. Tell your section members, and make sure they're alright. Movement is tomorrow morning. Got it?"
"Uh… yeah."
Alabaster stood up, slapping Jaune on the back, "Good. Remember, movement briefing at 1800. Seeya, Arc."
Captain Alabaster left, leaving Jaune alone on the bench.
Jaune laid back, looking up to the sky, "Well guess I'm out of here and… off to the next fight."
He glanced around. In the distance, a destroyed building was covered in tarps, and yellow tape all around it, with Contractor on guard all around. A remnant of the attack.
"Hopping from one contract to the next," Jaune mumbled. "Huh."
/ - /
"So we're leaving?"
Jaune glanced over to Lavender, her purple braid hanging loosely over her shoulder, leaning back on a nearby box, "Yep. We're switching out with the guys from 2nd Battalion. Knight Platoon is also leaving. They're the ones who sustained a whole bunch of casualties, after all."
"I… actually talked to one of the guys who died the night before," Lavender said quietly, drumming her fingers on the rifle clutched in her hands. "It's weird. To talk to a guy who you know just died. He was just asking me to help him."
He took his eyes off the LAV loading onto the transport Bullhead, which was being driven by his crew, "Lav, you good?"
"I'm fine," she responded distractedly. "I didn't know the guy. He was just asking for some help doing something. It's just weird, knowing he's dead."
"It is," Jaune bit his lip, trying to think of what to say next. "Really is."
"Yeah."
They watched everything happen in front of them. The LAVs were lined up behind the large transport Bullheads that had brought them there. Contractors milled around, idly chatting among each other. The Beacon docks had nearly been entirely cordoned off by a Striker Group, relegated purely to moving their equipment out of the school. Students watched from beyond a small perimeter set up by the Striker Group men. Some passed by with a pitying look, some stood by and looked on with sorrow. Not many were there. The rest of the school didn't notice their little taskforce leaving, more noticing an entire Fixed Security Company arriving.
So their audience was fairly small.
They were all okay with that.
"Hey, Jaune?" Lavender sidled just a bit closer. "Mind if I ask you something?"
"Hm?" he kept watching the ongoings in front of him. The LAV was loaded at this point, with Vi and Thistle hopping off and starting to yell and Finch and Jay. For what, he didn't know. "Yeah, shoot."
"Are you dating Pyrrha?" the question came out fast and clipped, Lavender giving an awkward smile after asking it.
"Huh? Uh, no. We're just pa- well, now former partners. We're friends. She didn't have a dance at the dance, so I accepted well, as a good friend."
"You… only think of her as a friend?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure she thinks the same way about me. I'm way out of her league After all… wait wasn't she complaining about that earlier? Eh, whatever."
Lavender let out a strangled choke, stifling it with her hand. When Jaune raised an eyebrow, she just shrugged and smiled, "Uh, a cough. Guess I caught it recently."
"Aura regulates your temperature, how did you get that?"
"Um, guess I'm not as skilled as I think," she said in a tone that sounded like she was asking herself a question.
"Ah, I could probably find some cough drops for you later if you need them."
She shook her head, "Nah, I'll be fine. But thank you anyway."
Jaune nodded to himself, "Alright, tell me if you need them though, will you?"
"Yeah, will do," Lavender turned away, humming a bit more happily than before.
Jaune spotted the rest of his crew fast approaching, so he pushed off the box he was leaning on and starting walking forward to meet them halfway.
"Hey Jaune," Thistle said as they met. "The Rocky Laser Beam's all loaded and strapped down. Our personal effects are all loaded up. Hopefully, Vi over here didn't forget her dil- ow!"
Vi reared back her hand, ready to slap Thistle yet again "Shut the fuck up. I will beat the shit out of you again."
Jaune snorted, looking over his crew, "So everything's accounted for? We cleared out our rooms and didn't leave anything? Hope you didn't leave anything, because we're probably not going to come back here for… well a long time. Jay, you and Finch good? You say your goodbyes to your brother yet?"
Jay nodded, arms crossed, "I did a while ago. It went well."
"That's all you've got to say?"
A nod.
"Cool. I did a check over of your rooms after you left them. Someone forgot this," Jaune unslung the pack on his back, unzipping it and pulling out a package. "Think this is yours, Vi."
Jaune tossed the package over, which she caught and brought it closer to her for a better look. After half a moment, her face flushed completely red, "Uuuuhhhh, thanks?"
He gave a smirk as she abashedly tried to stuff it into her backpack, "Welcome."
Thistle leered over the driver's shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the package she stuffed into her pack, "Oh what's that? Your dild-"
Vi immediately leapt for Thistle, already in the process of sweeping his legs from underneath him. Thistle, likewise, brought his hands up in an already doomed attempt to defend himself.
"Hey, hey, hey," Jaune rushed forward to separate the two. "Don't fight here, fight later. Got it? You two looking like you're about to fuck."
In an instant, the two untangled from each other, ending in both of them awkwardly standing up, dusting off their uniforms, embarrassment clear on their faces. One more so than the other, however.
Vi rolled her eyes, "Yes Jaune."
Thistle just gave a shit-eating grin, "Yes dad."
A shake of his head, "You guys… just chill out 'til we get to the base, please. I don't need the Chief to walk past while we're leaving to see you two fighting."
Jaune thought he heard a familiar voice behind him. So he glanced back, turned back to his section, then did a double take. Team RWBY and PNR were there at the perimeter, all in their school uniforms and waving at him and calling his name while two stoic Contractors held them back.
In truth, he'd been far too busy to say a proper goodbye aside from a text. It wasn't like it was the last time he was going to see them. He could always come and visit or have them visit him. He didn't need to do a big sendoff or anything.
Apparently, they partly disagreed, seeing their presence here.
"Hey guys," he turned back to his section. "Gotta go take care of something real quick. Thistle, do final checks and chill out while we're waiting for orders. Be back in a bit, don't follow me."
Without waiting for a response, Jaune turned and started walking towards the perimeter, where his Huntsmen friends waited.
"Hey, Jaune!" Ruby shouted as he got close. One of the Contractors glanced behind to see him and raised an eyebrow.
"Hey, I got this guys," he came up just behind one of the Contractors, tapping him on the shoulder. "Go help your friends with the rowdier Huntsmen."
The Contractor looked back at him, eyeing the epaulette on his vest, "Aye, Corporal. Have fun."
As the two Contractors walked away, he gave a weary smile to his friends, who all looked at him in anticipation, "Hey guys, I uh… didn't have any time to say bye in person. Too busy with work and stuff. It's been pretty busy the last few days. Though it seems that you guys have uh… found me anyways."
"That makes sense," Pyrrha nodded from the side. "We were just passing by and we uh… saw you. Knew you were leaving and put two and two together and figured we'd try to say bye in person."
"Oh well, then bye?" Jaune said in an unsure tone. "Not much else I can say than that."
Jaune nearly cursed as Nora leapt forward, embracing him in one of her rib breaking hugs, "Bye Jaune!"
Ren mouthed an apology as he pulled the over-energetic girl off him.
He gave him a thumbs up as he winced as he was fairly sure that at least one rib was broken from that. Team RWBY winced sympathetically. They all knew what Nora's hugs were like, and they certainly didn't envy him in that moment.
"So uh," Ruby began. "Where are you going? Somewhere exciting?"
"Back to Vale probably. Off to the next mission they give us or just doing patrols out in the Grimmlands. Can't really tell you the specifics, OPSEC and all."
Ruby cocked her head, "Huh?"
"Operational security. Can't have our mission details accidentally leak and the enemy to know what we're doing."
An oh from Ruby, "Wait, but you know we wouldn't tell people!"
He shrugged, "Maybe someone will overhear you. Can't take that chance, sorry."
Yang stepped forward, lightly yanking Ruby away from Jaune and towards her and giving him an apologetic smile, "Sorry Vomit Boy, we uh, have class soon and really need to get going now."
Weiss looked up at her scroll, flicking it shut, "We have fifteen minutes before class starts. We should really get going. Jaune," she then faced specifically him, "congratulations on finding another way to becoming a hero. I wish you luck in finding the brutes who attacked you."
"Yeah, hope we find them too."
I really hope...
Blake nodded from the very back of the group, "Best of luck to you."
She'd been quiet this entire time. But then again, Jaune had never been the best of friends with the secretive Faunus. Made sense.
Everyone quickly started saying their goodbyes. Each of them wishing him luck in finding the people who attacked them. Ruby, however, had one last thing to say.
"Oh!" Ruby turned around suddenly, having begun to walk away. "We're going on our missions in a few weeks. You said you're going into the Grimmlands?"
"Yeah."
"Then maybe we'll meet each other on a mission! Oh, it'll be so cool. Will you have more cool equipment then?"
A chuckle, "Maybe. We train to attach to an armoured unit. The ones with the tanks and everything."
Her eyes widened like saucers, "Tanks? I thought they were all being phased out for the Paladin?"
"Uh," a head scratch, "We still have them."
"That's soooo cool! Will I get to see them? Oo, I wonder what model they are. What model are they?"
Yang grabbed Ruby's hood and started dragging her away as she waved at him, "Oookkaaay, that's it, Ruby. We need to get to class. Seeya maybe later Jaune!"
"Seeya," he waved bye to them as they walked away. Everyone turned around, waving and yelling their last goodbye, before turning away. Pyrrha gave one last glance at him. She waved once more, the last one to do so. He waved back.
And then they were gone.
It was strange, really. Maybe a few months ago he would've felt sadder leaving his old teammates. Now? He just… didn't feel any sadder than he was.
Things change. Maybe his attachment to some people changed too.
"Things change, what a surprise," harsh laughter followed. "Well, time to stop talking to myself and get back to my section."
"Are you alright?"
Jaune looked over to see Lavender standing next to him, hand on her hip and eyebrow raised.
"Didn't I say not to follow me?"
"Never thought of myself as much of an order follower," she cracked a smile
He shook his head in mock disappointment, "For shame. I'm fine, thanks for asking by the way."
As he began to walk back to his section, Lavender followed, "It's been hard on us all. Though I didn't exactly see what you did… I saw the reports though."
"Really, it's fine," Jaune forced a smile. "See? I'm smiling. That obviously means I'm not suffering from PTSD."
She brushed a purple bang of hair away from her face as she rolled her eyes, "I'm being serious, Jaune. Don't burn yourself out worrying about us. We're… not adults but close enough to being them. You gotta worry about yourself too."
"Pft, I've already got you to worry enough about me that it cancels out."
Lavender punched him in the shoulder. Full force, which drew a yelp out from him, "You suck."
He tilted his head back and forth, almost like contemplating her words in his hand, "Maybe, maybe not."
Suddenly, Alabaster's voice boomed out across the docks, crystal clear for all to hear, "Taskforce! School circle on me!"
"Maybe we should do that before starting an argument," suggested Lavender.
"Yeah," Jaune shrugged. His section wasn't all that far away at this point, standing next to the Bullhead, laughing and joking. "Hey, guys! Get over here and follow me!"
"Fuck you!" Thistle shouted back, still starting to walk towards him, however. "I'm doing this because Alabaster said so not because you told me to."
"My god," he shook his head. "You guys are insufferable."
Lavender smiled, "We're insufferable, but we're family."
Jaune hummed a tune as he walked, "Family, yeah."
/ - /
"I'm proud of you all," Alabaster started.
The circle of Contractor continued staring at him.
"Everyone here performed admirably under the conditions. We all did our jobs and… and we brought as many people home as we... as we could, a slight pitch change at the last word. "I have no doubt in your mind that you'll continue to perform as well as you did that night. You'll exceed that, actually."
He took a deep breath.
"I have no doubt in my mind that every single one of you present wants to get back at them. You want to set out like a dog off its leash, you want to kill the fuckers that were responsible. I understand."
Nobody would have objected even if they could.
"You want vengeance. I want vengeance. Striker Group wants vengeance," Alabaster swept his eyes over the half-circle, pausing on every single one of them. "As you can see around us."
Above, a Snakehead circled around, along with many, many drones. Around, at least an entire Company of 2nd Battalion Infantry patrolled and guarded the area.
"I promise you, we will find the fuckers who dared attack us," Alabaster raised his voice, turning in a yell that reached across the whole group, and more. "And Contractors, what will we do when we catch these motherfuckers?"
"Kill them!" yelled out an alone voice among the group.
Another voice joined in, "Yeah! Kill them!"
Chuckling, "That we will, Contractors. Kill on three!"
"One!"
Something twinged inside Jaune. Maybe it was the knowledge that the perpetrators weren't going to be caught and he just wanted to let it all out. Maybe it was the collective adrenaline rush that was happening. It was… anger. Anger that his brothers and sisters in arms had their lives taken, and they couldn't catch the attackers. Anger that they were just… leaving. Anger that his section could've been the ones in a bodybag.
"Two!"
Jaune sucked in a breath, heart pounding in his chest. Yes. That was it.
They could've fucking killed his friends.
"Three!"
Jaune shouted so hard, the very foundation shook, and the skies were racked with the sheer emotion of their little group of impassioned Contractors.
"Kill!"
Alabaster bellowed out, his voice reaching far beyond what someone would think it would, "I can't fucking hear you. Again!"
"KILL!"
"AGAIN!"
"KILL!"
/ - /
Jaune sat at the very back of the Bullhead, near the open rear-facing ramp, strapped in and watching the outside. His section was busy helping move the last of the crates, and he just finished checking that the LAVs were strapped in properly.
The past week took its toll. His eyes were haggard, voice tired, and hopes dampened every single day.
To be frank, it'd been a shit week.
The crew chief stopped next to him, tugging on a LAV tie-down, "I already checked this, you know? No need to check again."
"You can never be too safe."
"Fair."
A moment passed, and the crew chief pulled a packet out of his vest, leaning back on the LAV. Out came a cigarette, which he promptly put in his mouth. The crew chief glanced at Jaune, before pulling another cigarette from the pack, "A smoke?"
Jaune hesitated.
He reached out and grabbed it.
The crew chief reached for his lighter, opening it with a flick of his wrist and bringing it up to his face. There was the rasp of the lighter before a small flame appeared, igniting the end of the cigarette. Jaune leant forward as the crew chief held the lighter towards his own cigarette, promptly lighting it with a flick.
Jaune coughed a little as the tobacco filled his mouth. It tasted a bit like burnt popcorn. Another cough as a puff of smoke drifted out of his mouth, and into the open sky.
"First time?"
"Yeah," a cough as he put the cigarette back into his mouth.
"Shouldn't have given you it then. Hard habit to break, been trying myself for a while."
"Is it hard to quit?"
"Hard enough already. Harder in our line of work."
Jaune blew out another puff of smoke. It tasted terrible. Metallic and rich. Acrid and burning. Already, there was a tingle in the back of his head, "Huh."
The thin wisp of smoke rose up from the crew chief's cigarette as he clenched it between his teeth, "Yeah, huh."
They sat there, alone in the cargo hold, smoking their cigarettes. Maybe it was just him wanting it to help him, or maybe the nicotine was taking effect, but he already felt calmer, less on edge. Less… less worried.
"That'll kill you eventually. Even Aura can't stop cancer," noted the crew chief.
"If our job doesn't kill us first."
"If it doesn't kill you first," a snort. "Yeah."
Jaune finally understood why everyone smoked. It wasn't a pleasant reason, but he understood.
It helped take the mind off the mortality of a Contractor.
So ends the Beacon Arc.
Sorry for taking so long to update. Had my Physics final you see. Will this happen again? Yes.
First of all, join the Discord. I'm hosting a DnD game, but it's based on the world of my story. As a perk, there'll be references from that campaign in this story (Yay!). We've already run a test session with the system we're using and it went well. If there are enough people we'll probably separate into two groups, the weekday and the weekend. If you don't want to play DnD, join the Discord anyway. I announce things there and we usually get together on the weekends to play video games together.
discord gg/8gbF2TJ (Link in profile if you want to copy paste).
On a story note, I'll be taking a bit longer (longer than this? Maybe) to work more on the outline and the planning. Why? Well, have you noticed that Jay is just there and the Cardin thread was just yeeted?
That was bad planning on my part.
So I'm going to take a break from actually writing the chapters to better planning out the next part, so there's less chance of a plotline that just… is there.
So, apologizing to people who thought that plotline was going somewhere. Badly handled on my part. I promise I'll resolve it later on.
Anyways, follow and review, or I will murder your bunny waifu. Cough. If that doesn't phase you, review or I'll give this story to my discord to write.
Hippity hoppity why are all my characters clones of the original cast it's rewrite time.
Training over cool kit.
Tophat out.