Chapter 14: Operation Rail Grind
Present Day, Hoffnaug Rail Yard
Lisa was regretting being a reporter right about now. She had been firmly but politely told to get ready at just shy of 2 in the morning by a Private for her time on the Hoffnaug to Cevance convoy, endured a 4 hour bullhead flight to get to Hoffnaug through harsh winds, and now she was standing around as the cold winds tore through her parka like it wasn't even there, freezing her to her bone. Why the hell did Atlas have to be so fucking cold?!
Huddling her arms as close to her body, she watched as Jaune's men continued their preparations for the long journey. They worked remarkably fast despite the horrendous weather; some were loading the trains with munitions, others were doing last minute checks on the various weapons, and most of them were lining the perimeter of the train cars roof as planned with sandbags, using some metal struts quickly welded to the roof and steel mesh to prevent the bags from falling off the train.
She glanced to her left and saw Jaune walking towards her, wearing a winter uniform that looked like it was keeping him quite warm. Bastard, hogging that uniform to himself, I should have it. She shook her head of that rather rude thought, as it was unfair as Jaune did ensure his men were well equipped for the weather.
"Shouldn't you be inside with the rest of the passengers in the terminal," Jaune asked her. She shook her head.
"I wanted to see how your men would behave in preparation for this mission," Lisa said. "But it's been quiet. So, have you heard anything from the General?"
"No, but I assume that he is busy dealing with the firestorm that is the fallout of Operation Sandstorm," Jaune commented, running his hand through his hair. Lisa could understand the frustration Jaune must've felt; the entire affair had become a massive debacle.
Despite censoring what information came from the front, the Council was under heavy fire for allowing the veritable bloodbath that was Operation Sandstorm to occur. Families of fallen soldiers had begun to talk on chatrooms, first to grieve collectively over their losses, but it was here people began to realize the sheer scope of the battle.
The council was too slow to act, and by the time they did, people began to draw their own conclusions about how the battle was going, by tallying the number of users who had lost family in the battle. From there, things spiraled as the families went from grieving to being enraged at the council for being so incompetent that their loved ones died for their mistakes. Vale right now was in the grip of riots against the Council, something that had Jaune concerned.
Jaune told Lisa that he had no doubt that if the riots continued, Qahira would try and manipulate it into further escalation, possibly into a full-blown civil war. Lisa doubted it would go that far, but the riots weren't quieting down anytime soon.
In addition, due to the resources spent on the operation, Dust, weapons, and armor prices skyrocketed, which wasn't good for small town militias, police, and to a lesser extent everyday civilian. But it meant that companies that mined dust (like the SDC) or built weapons (like Stahl Arms) had their shares explode in value. With Atlas and Vale having to replace their resources lost in Operation Sandstorm, many had begun investing heavily in such companies, and it was like everyone was investing in this, as Jaune put it, 'war economy'.
But despite the negativity that came from this debacle, it was odd that the Grimm weren't besetting the kingdoms. In a way, Grimm attacks were down, which Lisa couldn't explain. Hell, the fall of Vacuo should've rained down upon the VNA as that surely should have had the Grimm frothing at the mouth in anticipation from the collective negativity. But there was no grand Grimm horde, which she couldn't have been the only one wondering why that was the case.
"Do you think that the kingdoms will be able to mount another attack upon the VNA soon?" Lisa asked, mainly to have something to focus on. Jaune shook his head.
"No; the operation was such a disaster that Vale is in no position to going on another offensive campaign for at least six months by my own optimistic estimates. They'll probably be down for the whole year, only partaking in defensive measures to appease the people. As for Atlas, while we didn't suffer the manpower losses, we did suffer a bit as far as material goods go, and the operation has prompted Atlas High Command to rethink their military doctrine and equipment, if slowly. I doubt that the Kingdoms will make a move on Vacuo for a year, possibly a year and a half."
"But they can't sit around and let the VNA run rampant in Vacuo, can they?"
"Honestly, what can they do?" Jaune rhetorically asked. "The operation showed that the VNA can hold off the combined might of Vale and Atlas, so unless both kingdoms decided to go into a state of total war, it's impossible for them to do anything right now, militarily speaking."
"And what about non-militarily?" Lisa posed.
"They could impose embargos on Vacuo, deny them material to rebuild their country. Hopefully, the intelligence agencies of the kingdoms begin establishing spy networks to get intel needed to combat any VNA expansionism. The biggest thing however will be securing themselves from potential terror cells that the VNA could setup in the kingdoms, which may mean tighter entry control at the borders."
"Sounds like Vacuo will be facing issues with expanding outwards," Lisa said. Jaune sighed wearily.
"Alas, I have no doubt they are already planning their next move," Jaune stated. "It may simply be fortifying their grasp on Vacou, but given the VNA's ability to run their military to defend against even a poorly planned two pronged assault, it wouldn't be long before they expand. The question is where will they strike next."
Jaune, Ironwood, and Winter had discussed at length possible targets for the GLA. The closest kingdom to target was Vale, and with its military reeling from the debacle it had encountered, it was considered a likely candidate for attack. With a massive inland sea that could be used to transport troops into the heart of Vale without having the worries of sailing the high seas, Vale's lack of military fortification, and worse the region south of Mountain Glenn being inaccessible due to the concentration of Grimm, Vale would be forced into a position with no real retreat accept across the seas to Atlas or Mistral.
Atlas was considered only because of its involvement, but Jaune doubted that even with Atlas's lackluster ability when compared to the US, ECA, China, or Russia, that the GLA in Vacou would have the men or resources to take and hold the frozen kingdom. Indeed, Atlas had military fortifications around major cities, its air fleet was capable of relocating large number of troops to the front, and the winter was brutal to those used to the heat. Plus, the GLA would have to go through either the dragon continent, which was teeming with Grimm, or try and sneak past Vale through well patrolled waters.
Then the last two, Mistral and Menagerie, were both largely written off as likely targets, except for maybe raiding parties or terror attacks. While Mistral was close to Vacou, it was guarded by turbulent oceans that had a known history of dragging even the largest ships into the depths. Plus, Mistral barely partook in the invasion of Vacou. Menagerie meanwhile had no significant resources for the GLA, it was isolated, and the Faunus there were forced by the isolation of the pseudo-kingdom to be prepared for anything, lest they disappear.
Jaune winced as a fierce wind started blowing through the station. He looked at his watch, seeing they only had a few minutes before departure. He glanced at his men, who had finished their preparation and were milling about. He rotated his hand in the air, signaling to his men to assemble. Sparing not a moment, they bound into formation, just as they were drilled. Jaune got up in front of them and began speaking.
"Men, we are about to commence a mission that will be vital in the coming months in preventing the Vacou Nationalist Army from being able to take hold of any more kingdoms. You know what is onboard, and you know that it can't be allow to fall into the wrong hands."
"There will be some that don't understand that to ensure peace, you must prepare for war, that the cargo is nothing more than an affront to the Vytal Treaty. We can't afford to leave our closest ally be unprepared for the possible eventuality of war. This cargo must be delivered safely, from all threat, man or Grimm, to Mistral. Now, embark onto the train and get into your position, we are departing for Cevance."
With coordination, the soldiers moved out of formation and to their stations. Lisa saw Jaune approach her, and he had a look of apprehension.
"Something wrong?" Lisa inquired. Jaune sighed.
"No, just before every operation, every mission, I get anxious, thinking of what could go wrong, things that I know I have no direct influence over but could cost the lives of my men. God, how I hate being on the defensive."
Lisa didn't have any response to his concerns; she was a reporter, not a soldier. She never really knew the fear of going into combat, but she want to ease his concern somehow. Deciding to take a risk, she walked forward and gave him a hug. He stiffened for a moment before chuckling.
"You know, it feels like forever since I've been hugged," Jaune said, staring at the ground. He went silent for a moment before pulling out of the hug, standing up straighter. "Thanks for that, but I have to get onboard to finalize the set up."
"I know, I just wanted to ease your mind," Lisa said, more to herself as Jaune climbed into the train, leaving her to wonder what was going to happen on this trip. Hopefully nothing, but she highly doubted that.
~5 hours later~ En Route to Cevance, Mistral, Cpl. Angela Silber, Battle Group Schwarze Ritter
Had you asked a 19-year-old Angela Silber where her life would bring her, she would've said in some college receiving the best education an Atlesian citizen could expect, maybe on the way to becoming a professor herself. But 4 years, a flunked application to any university, going into the army to get higher education, then losing her family in a Grimm attack on the fringes of Atlas's territory, she was now a part of some 'test' army group that General Ironwood was putting forth.
She sighed; it took a long time to get settled into her new position. With the revised training that the Colonel made all of the members go through, she knew that he was a man who thought sweat save blood, unlike many Atlesian officers who thought tech would save the day. He made them push harder, run farther, shoot straighter, and get back into action faster, but he wasn't a monster.
No, if Corporal Silber had to describe Colonel Maximillian, it would be a stern father who expected their child to succeed but was willing to help them better themselves. He didn't coddle, but he didn't beat them down. He knew how to get people to do as he order, and how to draw their best from within. She respected the colonel, because unlike other officers he was willing to get his hands dirty to show them that it could be done, and that they could do it.
As it was though, the young corporal couldn't help but hate her commander.
What the fucking hell was he thinking, putting us on top of this train in winter?! Angela was sitting behind her automatic grenade launcher, shivering as the glacial winds tore through the fabric of her clothes, freezing the corporal to the bone. She saw that her squad mate and co-gunner Cpl. August Rot trying desperately to warm his hands by blowing hot air into them, but the train was moving too fast for it to be effective.
"Damn it, we got another nine hours on this train," August said. "Thankfully we haven't seen any Grimm yet."
"Small victory," Angela muttered to herself. She had been dying to test out the automatic grenade launcher on the Grimm, as she remember training for hours to master firing the grenade launcher up to a range of 800 meters. It didn't have a super high rate of fire, but firing 40mm HE grenades meant that one didn't have to be super accurate or fire a lot of rounds to remove the threat.
She was about to check the automatic grenade launcher when she heard the howl of Beowolves in the distance. She didn't hesitate to shout the warning.
"Contact imminent, Grimm!" she yelled over the wind. This warning was passed from car to car, and she, along with everyone, checked their weapons before contact.
They didn't have to wait long, as when the train passed over a bridge and got onto an open stretch of rail, the Grimm came pouncing. It wasn't a couple of Grimm; no, it was like a horde of a hundred demonic hell beasts came from their hiding places and began rushing the train. The composition was mostly Ursas, Beolwoves, and Creeps, fast moving Grimm that used numbers to overwhelm their target. However, the Grimm weren't aware that this train wasn't simply a civilian train.
Angela leveled the GMG-40, aiming for the center of the horde. She heard bursts from her comrade's assault rifle and the thunderous cracks of a few anti-material rifles firing their deadly .50 BMG rounds. She decided to join in, firing in 6 round-burst, letting the train's movement do the work of separating her shots.
The grenades flew in an arc, drifting to the left due to the train's travel and the wind, before impacting the ground amongst the Grimm. Each grenade exploded in a satisfying plume of smoke and fire, tearing the Grimm through shockwaves and molten metal fragments. She barely had to do anything as the Grimm, while fast, weren't fast enough to catch up to the train while avoiding the bullets.
She continued this symphony of destruction, while August fed rounds into the GMG-40, the dull thuds of the weapon firing followed moments later by a concussive shockwave. She was so concentrated on throwing 40mm death into the midst of the Grimm horde that she didn't see something that her squamate did. August shook Angela, getting her attention and pointing to the right side of the horde. When she saw what he was pointing at, she paled.
Rushing toward the train was a trio of Tyrants, massive Grimm that looked like a Tyrannosaurus, hence their name of Tyrants. They were heavily armored from above, with some armor on their relatively soft underbelly, their jaws were strong enough to punch through almost anything, and they had a crocodilian like growl that was on the infrasonic level that impacted people terribly; distorting their perception, upsetting their internal organs, and in general leaving them highly vulnerable to attack. Worse of all though, they were unusually fast for their massive size.
"We need to take care of them!" shouted August. "Keep them occupied while I ready the Panzerfaust!"
"You got to be shitting me, these grenades will be like tickling them!" Angela shouted back. Hearing no reply, and seeing the Tyrants getting ever closer, Angela cursed, lining the sights of her GMG onto them. Thinking she had a good angle, she let loose with the grenade machine gun.
The first volley missed by forty yards in front, killing some minor Grimm but not even landing fragmentation onto the Tyrants, so Angela tried to raised the to compensate for falling short. But by the time she fired her second volley, the Tyrants got even closer, causing her shots to go long.
"For fuck sakes, just let me hit these accursed abominations!" Angela cursed, taking aim as a Tyrant opened its jaw to let out a guttural roar. She fired five grenades and expected them to hit the ground around the Tyrant, but all five went into the gullet of the roaring Tyrant and exploded.
While Grimm may not have the blood and viscera that a normal animal would have, it was still startling to see black matter and bone white fragments explode from what used to be the Tyrant's skull. As the Tyrant fell, Angela saw that it looked like the neck had exploded like a blocked rifle barrel. But that still left two Tyrants, who had closed to within 100 meters of the train. She swiveled to fire upon the last two, not really adjusting for elevation, but it proved a needless endeavor, as a volley of Panzerfaust warheads slammed into the Tyrants, sending jets of molten copper and lead into the Grimm. Little remained of those massive brutes, and with that the other Grimm began retreating, or whatever you called a bunch of soulless abominations that hold no regard to their own personal safety leaving them alone.
Angela could hear some of the soldiers whooping at the scene, but she felt the hair on the back of her neck raise up, and it wasn't due to the cold. She pulled out her sidearm and turned, soon staring down the red eyes of the leader of the bandit clan they had been warned of in the briefing.
~Moments earlier~
"Tch, damn Atlesians, changing up how they do things at the last minute," cursed Raven, leader of the Branwen Bandit clan. She had reliable information that Atlas was going to be transporting a shipment of weapons to Mistral from an informant that had given her plenty of targets that had bid good fortune for the clan. She had wondered how he got the information, but after the first target had proven a major boon, she had decided to respect the individual's secrecy. It wasn't like he was a servant of Salem, so why should she look a gift horse in the mouth?
That said, the black-haired woman had really wish that her informant had warned her that Atlas was switching things up. First was the obvious change to the pattern of arrowheads scouting ahead. It wasn't a single arrowhead 30 minutes ahead of the train, no, it had been three at 30, 20, and 7 minutes ahead of the train. This meant that instead of blocking the train off with a barrier, her men would have to board the train while it was moving.
Next, her scout in the town that Atlas had stopped in previously noted that the tops of the train were ladened with sandbags and had plenty of armed soldiers, and not with the usual Atlas ordnance she knew. Of particular note were the large rocket launchers, anti-material rifles, and a large machine gun that fired grenades, which she knew Atlas didn't use.
That meant that this was a new unit, for what purpose she could roughly guess. The defeat of Atlas and Vale to the VNA had reached her ears, so this unit using non-standard equipment was likely the result of their bitter defeat.
"Guess even Irondick can change his tactics, just wish he didn't do it now," Raven muttered to herself. Before she could continue thinking about how this raid was messed up, her ears heard the clatter of gunfire, along with the muffled boom of explosions. She peered down the track and saw that her scout wasn't lying.
The Atlesians weren't wearing that stupid armor that impaired their senses and barely had enough protection to warrant its bulk. Nor did they use those god-awful guns that Atlas was almost synonymous with. But most surprising was the lack of Knights, and instead a bunch of heavy weapons. While some were easy to discern (large anti-material rifles, rocket launchers, etc) some were a little more difficult, until the Grimm showed up.
Where she expected a narrow victory from Atlas, what she saw was a curb stomp. The small fry the Grimm sent were annihilated by a withering barrage of 40mm grenades being fired from a machine grenade launcher, peppered by the new assault rifles, and ripped limb from limb by the massive anti-material rifle. She even was impressed when the rockets destroyed the Tyrants, a threat that would've required the coordination of her entire tribe to defeat.
But she had little time to ponder this, as the train was about to be under them. She turned to her men, and gave the order.
"Board the train and kill the defenders, loot everything we can carry!" Raven shouted, jumping onto the train. She aimed to land behind the young female gunner of the grenade machine gun, her hand resting on the hilt of her blade, hoping to take out the biggest immediate threat to securing the train's cargo.
But as she landed, the young woman must've had some sixth sense, having turned and drawn out her firearm. Raven smiled; was a damn shame that someone like her had to go up against her. Raven drew her sword, slashing at the young woman, but the young woman had the sense to back away from the blade, and before Raven could stop her, she had alerted the others.
"It's the Branwen Tribe!" Raven clicked her tongue in annoyance, as while her men had landed, the Atlesians had begun to resist. So much for this being an easy fight.
Her men lunged forward with swords, daggers, and axes, intent on drawing the soldiers' blood, but the Atlesians raised their rifles and began firing away. The rifles, while weaker than the usual Atlas rifle, fired helluva lot faster, thus shattering the aura of some of her men faster than they could've anticipated.
But even though her men suffered losses, her men were able to close in and give as good as they took. Blades sunk deep into the necks of the defenders, axe head chomping limbs from the still breathing defenders, and the few with pistols were taking shots at incoming defenders.
Raven meanwhile had been dancing through the battle, her blade singing her melody of death, ending the tireless and purposeless life of soldier after soldier. Her first victim hadn't been the young woman, but rather her assistant loader, who had tried to bring a knife to a sword fight. After that, she had lost sight of her, but the Atlesians soldiers were many, and she cared little for who fell to her blade. Those that died were too weak for this world, and she was all to glad to due her part in culling the world of useless chaff.
"Raven, get down!" Raven reacted to the voice of her second in this raid, and where her head had been a hail of bullets whizzed by, flying into a group of her men, striking them from the living coil. She turned her head and saw the person responsible.
A tall blonde man in his mid-thirties wearing a winter uniform was striding into the battlefield, a machine pistol in one hand and a saber in the other. He fired at those too far from him to swing his blade and parried and dismembered any that got within reach of his blade. It was like something out of those Atlesian war films Raven thought to herself.
But he was a worthy fighter, so she charged at him, her long odachi aiming to take his life. His saber however responded, blocking the sure to be lethal strike, and he leveled his machine pistol onto her. Raven responded by moving in closing, pushing her blade against his saber until the two were practically face to face.
Raven smirked, sliding her blade away from the officer's saber, and repositioning for a horizontal blow that would, if landed, bisect the man. But the officer, despite clearly showing some flaws in his swordsmanship, lined his blade to block the incoming swing. Raven however didn't ease up on her offensive.
Swing after swing, she tried to pierce past his defensive parries, only for the officer to surprise her with his quick reactions, both in how he deftly weaved across the battlefield and by how he parried her lighting fast strikes. She scowled; if the officer didn't cease his parries or evasion, she would inevitable tired. Thus, she had to limit his options.
Bringing her blade back, she quickly sent a thrust towards his left leg, which he seemed to favor. However, when her blade made impact, it wasn't the dulling force of aura or the rending of flesh she was use to, but rather the screeching of steel upon steel. She gritted her teeth as the feel through her blade ran down her arms, like nails on chalkboard.
However, it was this lapse that allowed the officer to go on the offensive. He brought his saber down onto her wrist with the hilt, which even with her aura being full was painful, causing her grip to slacken. Then he raised his machine pistol and fired a volley of bullets directly at her.
Raven scowled, as even though she moved to dodge, the some of the bullets found their mark, burying themselves deep into her shoulder. She glared at the officer.
"Can't fight like a man eh?" Raven taunted, hoping to distract the officer, only to receive a slight chuckle from the man.
"Hehe, if that's the best insult you got, then I shouldn't worry about being distracted," the officer said, swinging his saber's blade at her chest, which she blocked.
"Tch, if you think your men are coming out on top-"
"They have," the officer said, taking a step back and aiming his machine pistol at her. "Surrender Raven Branwen, your men are defeated, and you are surrounded."
Raven for the first time she had engaged the officer observed the battlefield that the train roof made and realized that her men had either been slaughtered or restrained. The Atlesians had beaten some of her best raiders, men who had ransacked numerous villages and caravans. She clicked her tongue in annoyance.
"Damn you Atlesian dog," Raven spat out.
\/\/\/
\/\/\/
Jaune merely raised an eyebrow at the insult Raven sent his way. Was this really someone that Ironwood had thought to warn him about? She was skilled as an individual, but it was clear that her method was simply to pick out a target and set her men upon them. True, she may take measures to reduce losses or expedite the goal, but she didn't coordinate her men once deep into the fray.
"Much better to be a loyal dog than a rabid bandit," Jaune said, motioning some of his men to come forward and cuff her. As his men move to restrain her, Jaune decided to ask a question that had been on his mind.
"Tell me Ms. Branwen, how did you learn of this convoy, along with the others you raided?" Jaune asked. Raven shook her head.
"You really think I would rat out my informant?" Raven said, who suddenly realized what she said, with Jaune picking up her eyes' widening.
"So, someone gave you this information, of what the convoys were carrying and where they would be?" Jaune said, stepping towards her, looking down upon her. "Tell me who it was that gave you the information, and I'll inform General Ironwood of your cooperation."
He could see that she was debating what he said, as if two lines of thoughts were warring for dominance. However, she snarled after a moment and spat at his feet.
"Fuck you, the strong don't bow to the weak," Raven said. Jaune sighed; he had seen this mentality before, in the aftermath of the GLA's war in Europe. Many ultranationalists group had risen, with a few rising up in Germany, calling for 'German purity' and the extermination of not only Muslims and those of African descent, but also of the Chinese, who had been stationed for a few years to help rebuild Europe. His foster father had been apart of a few movements that squashed those idiots, all in the lead up to the formation of the ECA. So Jaune had knowledge how to deal with such thoughts.
"For someone who has experience fighting both Grimm and humans, you must be incredibly stupid," Jaune said.
"What did you say?!" Raven shouted, trying to rip herself from her handcuffs and get in Jaune's face.
"For one, what even makes one strong? Being physically powerful, having men follow you, having wealth, tell me what makes someone strong. You can't; everyone finds strength in different things, from faith, to friends and family, to national pride, and so on. You name a reason for someone to fight, you can find someone to use that motivation to be strong in ways that can't be measured in martial strength. I knew those that endured years of relentless torture, and never break. Were they strong; most of them argued no, but they were motivated not to give the monsters that tried to break them the pleasure."
"Secondly, even if you could find a single defining way to measure strength, guess what? Everyone has a point that they will refuse to budge. There were regimes built on your ideals, and you wanna know what happened to them?"
"They thrived," Raven said, but Jaune shook his head.
"They crumbled, from within and without. The people inside hated the system, but perhaps they were cowed, thinking they were a solitary voice in the sea of madness, but once that veil was removed, they rejected their so-called masters. And the people that saw the regime from the outside almost always denounced them, and many times they were crushed through military might."
"Then they were weak!" Raven argued, but Jaune waved his hand away.
"No, it was through cooperation, sacrifice, and the willpower of people who vowed to forge a brighter future that saw the end of regimes that took your philosophy's too far. But I see you are to entrenched in your beliefs to try and reason with you. You truly are a scourge upon civilization; I'll leave your fate in Ironwood's hand. Take her and her men into the rear security car and keep at least seven men to guard them."
Jaune turned and headed back to the front of the train, knowing his men would follow his orders. He sighed; this was not what he wanted for his first mission. He counted at least a dozen and a half of his men lying dead by Raven's bandits, most of them by the bitch's blade. He sighed at the pointlessness of it all; the loss of life, over a shipment of arms.
He got into the train, heading to the passenger carriage, to make sure that the citizens were safe and alright. He got the passenger car and motioned to one of the onboard Marshalls. The Marshall was a older man, with graying black hair and a short mustache.
"How is everyone holding up?" Jaune asked. The Marshall sighed.
"It was rough to be honest; most of these people are families heading back home, unused to Grimm or bandits, but once the firing ceased and they saw that it was your men that prevailed, they had calmed down. Some are still stressed out; there was an elderly man who had a heart attack when the gunfire broke out, but he's fine now. But we're good Colonel."
"That's good to hear," Jaune said. "I'll go through each car, make sure everyone is safe."
"Thank you Colonel," the Marshall said. Jaune turned and walked through the car, getting halfway when he heard something. It sounded a bit like a fan, but as he looked around, the car didn't have any fans in it. He tried to puzzle it out, but he couldn't place it. It was too deep to be a normal fan, hell, now it sounded like it was getting closer, and he could hear that it sounded like something was cutting through the artic air, like a blade-
"Oh no," Jaune simply uttered.
~1 mile out from the Hoffnaug-Cevance train~
"We're about a minute from seeing the train commander," the pilot of the Hook gunship said through the intercom. Sean Nubs, mercenary turned GLA commander, smiled. He was looking forward to stealing a good haul of Atlas's weapons from right under their noses, as well as kill that bitch he had leaked the information to.
Sean had a tough life, but he was glad for it. His mother died at the hands of his abusive father, who he killed in revenge at the age of nine. He went on the run, got involved with a mercenary company that traveled throughout Remnant, taking any job, no matter how dirty or illegal it was. He was regularly beaten until he was the one doing the beating, and a few years ago he fought tooth and nail to become leader of the company, when he was sought out by him.
Sean's initial impression of Qahira was that of a raving madman; Qahira got a demented smile when he got onto the topic of war, like he was discussing religion like a zealot. But Qahira offered him everyone; money to buy the luxuries in life he could only dream of, weapons to better kill threats to his business, and the power to gather men that he would need for his mission. And when Qahira made him in charge of handling 'oversea contracts' in the interest of the GLA, Sean was extremely glad he paid attention to the man who even to this day he couldn't quite place.
However, Sean was mostly bored with his place in the GLA. Sure, it was a powerful position, but he hadn't been able to take part in the fight, like so many others. He supposed that was a trait he shared with Qahira; being sidelined and out of the fight. But while many of the GLa higher ups were dealing with the pathetic attempts of Vale and Atlas at 'liberating' Vacou, he had been relegated to 'foreign affairs'.
However instead of wining and dining foreign diplomats and securing trade relations, his work involved supplying rebels in the other kingdoms, selling information to various bandit-tribes, and using the GLA's informants to develop a spy ring in the major kingdoms. Thus, he had early on gotten in contact with the Branwen tribe, and by the Brothers was that a mistake.
The Branwen tribe was noted for its bandit's individual strength, and that its leader was a fearsome bandit queen with Huntsmen level training. But Sean had severely misunderstood what kind of person Raven was. He thought she was someone the GLA could rely on, but she was single-handily the most arrogant piece of shit bitch he had ever met.
It was strength this, strength that, and Sean hated using one of his informants to deliver intel to Raven, as she made it all to clear that she thought that he (through his informant's word) was a weak-willed man that sent others to do his dirty jobs. And when he had informed her that the intel she was given was on the condition that the 'he' would receive a cut of the stolen cargo, she had horded it for herself.
Thus he decided a personnel touch was needed for this raid. He and a small team would insert via a Hook gunship, escorted by a pair of Plague Dusters. They would insert in the front of the train, secure the engine car, disable the train, and clear it of everyone, Raven's tribe as well. He couldn't wait to see that bitch's face as he put a bullet through her skull.
"Sir, we got trouble," the pilot said, causing Sean to raise an eyebrow.
"Show me," Sean said, opening the side door of the gunship. What he saw had him frothing with rage.
The train, which should've been under Raven's control, was anything but. He saw plenty of soldiers, having to be Atlas due to the train's origin despite the unusual winter uniform, having the roof of every train car fortified. And to make things worse, he saw that several of the soldiers were opening crates, which he saw long tubes that could only be missile launchers.
"Men, we are going in hot!" Sean shouted, and his mercenaries grinned.
Most of his team comprised of gunners, using belt-fed Vektor SS-77 light machine guns, but two were equipped with Milkor 40mm grenade launchers and two were armed with pump-action shotguns and machetes. He raised a unique revolver that was given to him by Qahira. Apparently, it was taken from some kid who was retrieving it for his father early on in Qahira's life.
Qahira had noted that despite the power of the revolver, he had no real use for it, as he had ran out of the ammunition for the revolver and couldn't be bothered with seeking out replacement rounds. But Sean, after receiving it, was able to craft his own ammo, and by the Brothers was it worth it. It may have had only a 5-round cylinder, but it fired massive .500 express dust rounds, and the design made it so that with even all that power it barely had any recoil.
The Hook began to descend, and a couple of his gunners began firing down upon the Atlesian soldiers, who tried to fire back. But a combination of the helicopter creating one helluva downdraft, the wind sweeping past the train, and injuries, the Atlesians were barely returning effective fire. Sean smiled as the Hook was almost at a height where he could jump down when a bullet pinged right off the gunship's door next to him.
Sean, realizing someone was getting awfully close with their shots, decided not to waste anymore time. He jumped down and raised the massive revolver to aim down at some Atlesian scum that hadn't fully realized someone was right in front of him. He squeezed the trigger, the massive report of the express round rang out like thunder over the din of the firefight. The soldier's head was little more than red mist, and Sean was about to take aim at another soldier when a volley of shots whizzed past his face. He turned and crouched, seeing that it was some blonde hair officer-looking prick with a machine pistol and a saber.
He hadn't however gotten to raising the revolver to the officer's upper body before he was slammed into by the officer. Sean however grew up fighting dirty, and quickly pulled out a knife from his belt, trying to stab the officer. The officer reacted, trying to pin his arm down, but Sean was prepared.
Sean kneed the officer in the gut, causing him to momentarily lose breath. Sean used the slack the officer had involuntarily given to roll out and try once more to fire his revolver. But the officer snarled and threw his machine pistol at Sean. It didn't really do any damage, but it distracted Sean, long enough for the officer to stab him in the upper arm with his saber.
"Damn you bastard!" Sean roared, clutching at the wound momentarily. But before the Atlesian officer could do anything more, several of Sean's mercenaries came and fired at the officer, who was forced to roll off the roof of the train car, and onto the gangway between cars. Sean gritted his teeth as he retrieved his revolver and saw that most of the remaining Atlesian soldiers were pinned behind their sandbags, wounded, and dead. But even over the firefight, Sean realized that the Atlesians were not trying to kill them, merely deny them their prize and wait for the train to get to the city, where there would be without doubt reinforcements.
Sean cursed, not liking how he would have to tell Qahira about his failure to retrieve the weapons. But he could at least make it-
An explosion split the air, causing Sean to gaze as some mother-fucking asshole shot down one of the escorting gunships with one of the MANPADS that they had. Sean took quick aim and blasted the fool for his efforts, but it was clear that staying on the train was no longer an option.
"Men, the mission is aborted!" Sean shouted. "Get off and make your way to the emergency rendezvous!" He pulled out a flare gun and shot a flare, signaling to the pilots to head to the extraction point. He jumped off the train, cursing as his feet hit the hard earth, but glad that the train was moving too fast for the Atlesians to take advantage of their disembarking.
Sean holstered his revolver and began making his way to the extraction. He saw most of his men made it, but not all. He scowled; what a fuck up this mission had turned out to be. He just hoped Qahira was more forgiving to him then Qahira was with the POWs they had captured.
Password Required
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Searching for 'Operation Rail Grind After-Action Report'
Found 1 document, opening document.
Operation Rail Grind was a military supply mission between the Kingdom of Atlas and the Kingdom of Mistral. Disguised as a supply relief for towns between Atlas and Mistral, it had two primary objectives;
1: Test the combat effectiveness of the 115th Special Tactics Company under the command of Col. Jaune Maximillian,
2: Deliver a shipment of weapons, armor, and munitions to upgrade Mistral's budding armed forces, with most to be secretly distributed to trusted units.
In terms of these objectives, the operation succeeded, yet not without some failings.
The second objective was completed without any loss of cargo, despite the intervention of rouge human elements endangering the mission. All weapons, armor, and munitions were received and accounted for, and Mistral had begun honouring the agreement between them and Atlas, with Atlas gaining access to their intelligence network and payment enroute.
The first objective however ran into problem, although this could not be held against the soldiers or Col. Maximillian. The nature of securing a moving train in harsh climate conditions with little time to prepare led to a hasty and in hindsight foolish defense. It was viable against Grimm, but proved vulnerable to human elements.
The weapons of the 115th proved to be as effective if not more than contemporary 'dust-fueled' weapons, having access to more rounds that have better ballistic properties. In particular the soldiers that returned from the Operation reported that have the GMG-40 and the Panzerfaust 3 proved extremely useful against more dangerous Grimm forms, so much so that some stated they would feel comfortable operating without the air fleet if they had them.
However, when the Bandits of the Branwen tribe arrived, the defense proved to be insufficient, and the design had not taken into account the presence of a overhang where the tribe jumped onto the train. However, the men and women of the 115th, with some sacrifices, managed to subdue and put down the threat of the Branwen tribe, capturing their leader and several of her best men.
But shortly afterwards, the VNA arrived, with a Hook gunship and two Plague Dusters. While the 115th tried to stop the attack, the VNA managed to offload a squad of men, but the VNA were unable to achieve their objectives, retreating at the command of their leader.
While the 115th did suffer losses, they did succeed in their mission, preventing loss of civilian life and preventing the cargo from falling into the hands of bandits and terrorists. The officer in command noted himself that the defenses were rushed and if the trains were better prepared, perhaps the Operation could've went through without the losses. In total the losses were;
Branwen Tribe
12 dead
9 captured, along with their leader
VNA
3 dead
1 Plague Dust shot down (the pilot and co-pilot were not found at the wreckage, indicating they survived)
0 captured
115th Special Tactics Company
23 dead
0 captured
While this may appear to show the 115th suffering nearly a 1-1 loss ratio, circumstances must be taken into consideration; the mission was hastily put together, the VNA were not expected to be operating in the area (something to be discussed later), and the officer made due with what resources he had.
Therefore, it is with my recommendation that the 115th Special Tactics Company be quickly expanded, as the failures were in the lack of preparations, not in the performance of the unit.
~Report made by General Ironwood.
Author's Note: God damn, sorry for how long it's been. I was trying to make a good chapter for you guys, and I hope this appeases you guys. It's a bit on the long side, but consider that me attempting to make amends for being away for so long from this story. But enough of that, let's discuss your reviews.
Foxhound1998: thanks for the approval mate, hope this one is good for you.
Avalanche-Dragoon: ~Sees its been nearly a year and a half~, Shit, sorry mate, but here it is.
Janny092: Glad you like the story, and as far as your question is concerned; I am mainly intending for elements from the Rise of the Reds mod to be implemented, with maybe some elements from the Shockwave mod (both made by SWR). And there is a spiritual successor to the Mammoth tank in the ZH/ROTR timeline, it's the overlord tank, which will be making its prescence felt soon.
Just a Crazy Man: Glad you like it.
Guest: Compared to other chapters, chapter 13 was on the shorter end, but it was still 5000 words long. But I understand what you mean. Hopefully this chapter feeds you.
Ferrum Igne: See what you are saying, and we got the first glimpse at what a person under Jaune's command experiences. Trust me, it's only going to get more expansive, as more positions open up in the 115th. The designation is an homage to Jaune's previous command of the 115th Panzer-Jaeger Company. And as more battles and situations appear, the focus won't be purely on wanton killing, but the tactics that each sides employ.
Guest: The story isn't dead, 2020 was bullshit and I was feeling so out of it that every time I would come to write I wouldn't be satisfied with it, so end up deleting upwards of two thousands words at a time, trying to get the chapter just right. Even now I feel like it could've been done better, but I wanted to get this story moving again.
White1498: Glad you are liking the story, here's the latest chapter.
Warmachine324: Same as above, glad you are enjoying.
Now with the reviews out of the way, I am asking for minor characters to help flesh out the story. There will be some rules that I would like to see followed;
1: The character is either from the four Kingdoms of RWBY (Vacou, Atlas, Mistral, Vale), or be affiliated with the 5 factions of the ROTR verse (Russia, China, the US, the GLA, and the ECA).
2: A bit of background so I have an idea of what they are like personally, the more detailed the better.
3: Please respect if your character hasn't appeared yet in the future; more than likely I am trying to find an opportunity where they would fit the best.
Send your characters to me as a DM with the subject of the message as (Character for Rise of Remnant), that way I can check my inbox quickly and find them when I decide to put in your characters.
That's all for now, I'll see you guys soon (I will publish a new chapter by the end of July or early August, as the store I am working at will be undergoing a remodel early August, so I will have time to write.