The White Knight
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Jaune Arc was a soldier. For as long as he could remember, that was all he was, all he'd ever been. He understood, logically, that he had a mother and a father once, as everyone must, but they existed only in the abstract to him, being, at most, vaguely-recalled sensations half-recalled in dreams.
The General told him that they'd died when he was very young. No, not died. They'd been murdered, by agents of the White Fang. The General had rescued him from underneath the mutilated corpse of his mother, and the infant Jaune had been enlisted to wage war on behalf of the people of Remnant before he could walk.
Jaune Arc's first words had been "yes, sir."
His favorite toy growing up was the standard-issue XATM092 Particle Projection Rifle, which he slept with in his bunk. He had studied war strategy and tactics, quoting from the great battle masters of history at an age when other children were singing about the ABC's. His days were spent in grueling physical training, his nights in study to hone his mind, all in order to forge him into the perfect weapon.
Jaune Arc was a soldier, and at age seventeen, he stood ready when The General told him that some extremely important figures would be observing his capabilities. If Jaune performed up to the highest of possible standards, his efforts would be rewarded by being named the first of the Vanguard, a new unit of soldiers born and raised to the express purpose of waging war against the forces that stood poised to tear apart the free people of Remnant.
He was tall, with lean, solid muscles. He wore white plasteel armor above a black mesh bodysuit, and carried an assortment of weapons, including handguns, submachine guns, knives, a variety of grenades, and his old Particle Projection Rifle. If he were at all nervous standing in the large, holographic combat training chamber, his expression revealed nothing. With his blonde hair shorn short and the cool, relaxed poise of one used to combat, Jaune Arc appeared to be nothing less than the perfect soldier.
The General's voice carried over the intercom system. "As you can see, Arc has been well-trained and equipped for a variety of combat conditions, far more than the wildly-individualistic and chaotic Huntsmen produced by the Academy system. We will begin by displaying Arc's capabilities against the creatures of Grimm."
Arc saluted before drawing his rifle. He dropped to one knee and raised the weapon just as a series of doors slid open, revealing packs of ravenous Beowulves. With calm efficiency, Jaune opened fire, his rifle sending out blue beams of hyperaccelerated plasmid Dust to scorch the Grimm, burning lethal holes through them. Great numbers of the lupine creatures continued to pour through, and despite his precision shooting dropping a Grimm with every shot - and sometimes multiple targets in a single beam - they began to press in closer to the young soldier.
Jaune quickly shouldered his rifle, and drew a pair of mechashifting submachine guns, one in each hand. They kicked as he poured rounds into the enemy, but Jaune had spent so many hours firing them that adjusting for the recoil was more natural to him than speaking, and he kept both weapons on target. He fired towards the sides of the encroaching creatures, forcing them into a cluster before holstering the submachine gun in his right hand. Jaune pulled a grenade from his belt, lobbing it into the center of the creatures before using a grapnel launcher built into his right gauntlet to zip into the air above the crowd. He fired down into them, drawing the creatures' attention until the high-explosive grenade detonated, sending the thick, black goo of Grimm blood flying everywhere.
The soldier released the grapnel and fell into a roll, coming back to his knees with his rifle in hand as another, much larger door opened.
A Deathstalker of that size would have been too much for a single first-year student at the Academies that The General had spoken of. Jaune was unphased.
He'd killed worse than that before.
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Then
When Specialist Winter Schnee had been told that she'd be assisting with the training of an aspiring Specialist, she'd been expecting to find someone much like herself, being a Huntsman-trained graduate of the Academies who had accepted the offer of a commission upon graduation.
She was not expecting a twelve-year old.
The boy was tall, but scrawny, awkward in the puppy-like manner of one in the throes of puberty. What was this? The boy was too young to even attend a full-on Academy, let alone have graduated from one. Hells, boy looked the same age as her little sister! There must have been some mistake…
"Ah, Specialist Schnee." Winter looked over to see The General approaching, and snapped to attention. Curiously, the boy did so as well, without any sort of prompting. "This is Cadet Arc. Your mission today is to take him into the old Salida Mine and exterminate the Elder Grimm that has taken up residence within the lowest level."
Winter, having been a Specialist for less than a year, hesitated. "Sir, permission to speak freely?"
The General nodded. "Granted."
"This mission seems a little advanced to take a cadet along as an observer."
The faint hint of a smile ghosted its way across The General's face. "Ah, there seems to be a misapprehension, Specialist."
Winter relaxed. Perhaps she was meant to leave the boy in a forward operating base while she ventured into the mine alone?
"He isn't the observer, Specialist. You are. You are to monitor Cadet Arc's progress through the mine and evaluate his efficiency in exterminating the Elder Grimm."
Her jaw dropped. "What?! Sir, this is insane! He can't be more than twelve!"
"You have your orders, Specialist."
With that, The General turned and walked away, supremely confident that his orders would be carried out. Winter was unnerved to realize that the boy in question had neither spoken up nor so much as fidgeted the entire time that he'd been standing there.
What kind of boy is this?
Later, they sat in the cargo compartment of an airship, with Winter absolutely flabbergasted. Somehow, the boy, true to The General's prediction, had actually gone and done it, clearing out the mine and single-handedly slaying the Greater Beringel that had made it its lair.
"Cadet Arc."
"Ma'am."
Winter cleared her throat. "What school did you attend, to fight the way you do?"
The boy quirked his head at her, as if finding the question strange. "School?"
"Yes, school. You must have attended one."
The boy shook his head. "No, ma'am. I received my training directly from The General himself."
Winter blinked. "For how long have you been under The General's tutelage?"
He leaned back, as if counting in his head. "Around ten years or so now."
"But you're only twelve years old!"
He gave her that odd, perplexed look again. "And? I've been training under The General for ten years, and I'm twelve years old. There is nothing contradictory there."
Slowly, Winter shook her head. A child soldier, in the uniform of the Atlas armed forces… "Well, Cadet, your mission was a resounding success. We still have some time before you're to report in, so how would you like to celebrate?"
"Celebrate?"
"Yes...celebrate. It's an important rite of being a soldier after all. What do you do for fun?"
The boy scratched the back of his head, for once acting like the child that he was. "Most of it is back at base. I read through the Book of Five Rings or the works of Clausewitz. I still need to finish my analysis of the Battle of Bastion. I maintain my rifle, polish my armor. You know, fun stuff."
It wasn't often that Winter met someone who had a worse childhood than she had. It may have been pity, but she did something that she would never have considered before meeting Cadet Arc. "Well, that sounds...great, but how would you like to meet someone your own age?"
Arc looked confused. "Is this an order, ma'am?"
"No, it is not. But I believe it would be good for the both of you to socialize."
"Ah. Diplomacy training."
"Diplomacy?"
"Yes, ma'am. War is politics by other means, so it stands to reason that politics are war by other means. Understanding how to make and maintain alliances is a crucial skill for ensuring that efforts aren't impeded by superfluous concerns."
Winter sighed. "Well, consider this a potentially very important alliance."
"Yes, ma'am."
After they landed, Winter commandeered a car, and had them driven to the Schnee Estate. She smiled broadly as her young sister ran down the stairs to greet her, before the girl stopped and attempted a more refined approach. Weiss was also twelve years old, and in the midst of puberty's woes. Winter made sure not to mention that the concealer that her sister had applied hadn't quite managed to hide the pimple on the girl's cheek, or that she smiled with her mouth closed to avoid showing her braces.
"Hello, sister. It's a pleasure to see you again."
Winter smiled. "Weiss. I brought a guest, one that I thought you would like to meet." As she gestured, Cadet Arc stepped out of the car and stood at parade rest. "This is Cadet Arc. He's been training directly under The General, and has just completed his first mission under my supervision today."
Jaune nodded politely. "Ma'am," he said, a little unsure as to how to speak to someone who didn't fall on the chain of command.
Weiss flushed, before remembering to curtsey. "A pleasure to meet you, Cadet Arc. I'm certain that, with the tutelage of The General, you accomplished your mission with ease. I myself have begun training under my sister, and hope to attend an Academy myself in the future."
Both of the children fell into a painfully-awkward silence, with neither one knowing how to interact with the other. Winter coughed. "Weiss, why don't you show the Cadet around the Schnee Estate? I'm sure that there is much you could tell him about the history of our family and its role in Atlas."
"Ah, of...of course." Weiss almost tripped as she turned to the boy, who still hadn't left parade rest. "Come with me. Tell me, what do you know of the Dust industry?"
As they walked off, Winter sighed, unsure if she had done the right thing.
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Now
Jaune Arc had been slaying Elder Grimm since he was twelve years old. With almost contemptuous ease, he fired his grapnel between the multiple legs of the arachnid Grimm, allowing the device to pull him underneath the creature's bulk. Jaune released the grapnel just before his feet touched against the wall, and he bent his knees, pushing off into a great leap above the scorpion.
He grabbed the creature's tail, pulling it down closer to the Grimm's head and planting an explosive just behind its stinger The explosion tore the stinger from the tail, and with expert precision, Jaune guided the ejected body part in between two of the faux-chitinous plates of the arachnid Grimm. He stomped on the disembodied stinger, the force further wrenching open the plates, and giving Jaune all that opening that he needed. Two quick shots from his rifle directly into the creature's brain, and the Grimm collapsed in on itself, already beginning to dissolve into smoke.
It had taken less than five seconds for Jaune Arc to kill an Elder Deathstalker on his own.
The intercom buzzed again, The General's voice ringing through the chamber. "As you can see, Arc is just as capable against the Grimm as any Huntsman graduated from the Academies. However, our enemies are not only the creatures of Grimm. As demonstrated by Arc, the Vanguard program will train our elite soldiers to defend against our most dangerous enemies."
With that, the doors opened up, revealing a dozen bewildered, armed White Fang members. They had been told that they would win their freedom if they could take down a single target in the chamber.
Jaune remained unphased. He'd killed worse before.
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Then
"Are...are you okay, Jaune?"
Jaune Arc, fourteen years old, stared down at the body of the Faunus that he'd just killed. The man was a member of the White Fang, which was a death sentence in itself, but he'd been part of a group that had dared to try to kidnap Weiss Schnee.
The key word being "tried."
Weiss had become capable in her own right, but she'd never even had the chance to draw her multiaction Dust rapier before Jaune had fallen upon the White Fang squad.
Four had attacked. None had survived.
The General had dispatched him, but this was the first time that a mission had ever meant anything personal to Jaune. Hell, Weiss was the only thing in his life that didn't pertain, in any way, to his training and his mission.
Weiss was… important to him. He still didn't know how to speak to her, but she had learned to open up to him. Once a week, under the guise of training with Winter, he would find himself at the Schnee Manor, and listening to Weiss. Sometimes, they would fight against Winter's Grimm summons together. Sometimes, Weiss would speak about her hopes and plans for the future of the SDC. Sometimes she would sing for him, and though he didn't know how to say it, those were the visits that he enjoyed the most.
Those men had threatened her. Jaune had had to restrain himself to kill them as quickly and efficiently as possible, and not take any liberties to prolong their suffering. It was his duty, nothing more.
He almost fell over as Weiss embraced him, heedless of the blood on his armor. "I'm...I'm sorry you had to do that, Jaune. But...thank you. Thank you for saving me."
Jaune couldn't remember the last time someone had embraced him.
Awkwardly, he raised his hand up and patted her on the back.
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Now
Calling it a fight would be charitable to the efforts of the captured White Fang operatives who faced off against Jaune Arc. The bravest of them, a wolf Faunus with a bushy tail, charged Jaune with a spear in hand. With effortless ease, Jaune flowed around the over-powered thrust, reached up, and snapped the Faunus's neck all the way around. Without Aura, the Faunus was dead before he hit the floor, and Jaune, having never broken stride, proceeded towards the real fighters. One Faunus had the bright idea of taking shots at him. Jaune, looking as bored as if he were filing paperwork, quick-stepped over to a deer Faunus. He stomped onto the side of the knee, snapping it and causing the Faunus's Aura to flare as it tried to compensate for the damage.
As his target staggered, Jaune grabbed the Faunus's antlers, wrenching the man in front of him, just in time to absorb shots fired by his compatriots. With one hand gripping the antlers, Jaune used his other to draw a submachine gun. He rushed the shooter, while firing to the sides to drive back the other Faunus. The unfortunate deer Faunus in his grip outlived his usefulness as Jaune reached the shooter, so the soldier opened fire, at point-blank range, into the man's spine, allowing the recoil to walk the barrel up and blast through the man's spinal column, breaking the Aura halfway through. The soldier then ripped the antlers off the Faunus's head, pushing the corpse to fall to the ground. The shooter's eyes widened just before Jaune drove the bloodied antlers into her chest. Jaune kicked her to the ground, then dropped to one knee, ducking under a sidelong blow from a hammer. He pushed up, grabbing the man's arm, then hyperextending it. It didn't take much effort to shatter the elbow from there, forcing the man to drop his weapon. Jaune caught it, snapping to stand upright and using the velocity that his movement granted to him to drive the spiked head into the man's face.
Pulling the weapon free with a sickening squelch, Jaune squared off against the remaining White Fang. He used the metal shaft of the hammer to parry a sword strike, before pivoting and hurling the weapon end-over-end to crash into a surprised Fang, collapsing the man's chest cavity. As that man died, Jaune grabbed the swordsman's wrist, pulling him towards him before twisting the hand backwards and forcing down. The swordsman's wrist shattered under the pressure, and Jaune took up his next weapon.
He wasn't even looking when he used the sword to sever its previous wielder's head from its body.
A half-dozen White Fang operatives had died in just over ten seconds. The remainders were backing away from him now.
Jaune charged. He dove into a roll, springing out and lashing to the side, digging a deep furrow into a woman's legs. The next man he faced had Aura, but it soon broke under the strain of trying to protect from so many lethal strikes in rapid succession. Finally, Jaune sent the sword slicing through the man's throat.
A quick stab at the hollow of the throat took care of a man who had hurled a trident at Jaune, while Jaune gutted the next target, leaving the man to die of shock and massive bloodloss as his entrails spilled out across the floor.
Two targets left. Now they were attempting to flee, pulling at the doors and screaming for help. Jaune buried the sword in the skull of the first, and then snapped the neck of the last one.
The room fell silent except for the weeping of the woman whom Jaune had crippled. As he approached the woman - some kind of bear Faunus, with brown-furred ears - held up her empty hands. "Please," she begged through her tears. "Please don't -"
His expression never changing, Jaune drew a gun and put a bullet between her eyes.
He fell back into parade rest as The General's voice echoed through the chamber. "As you can see, the Vanguard is a new kind of soldier, needed to end the war that is coming. He does not know fear. He does not know weakness. All that he knows is his duty."
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Inside the observation booth, Ozpin's hands shook. His face was ashen.
"James...what have you done?"
The man who he'd thought was James Ironwood frowned. "What I've done is taken the last of the Arcs and trained him to be a soldier. The soldier that we need if we're going to win this war."
Slowly, Ozpin shook his head. "What you've done is taken an orphan and raised him into a deeply-troubled young man. He will never be what you think him to be."
The men were interrupted by the choking gasp of Glynda Goodwitch. "James...how could you?"
The General's expression was taken aback for a moment. Only a moment, before it hardened once more. "Your Academies are never going to produce the results that we needed. They produce overly-sentimental, woefully-inefficient display pieces to placate the masses. When the war truly comes, they will die like flies. But the Vanguard? My soldiers will form the unbreakable iron fist that will protect the people of Remnant."
"He was a child," Glynda whispered.
"What you have done here is a crime, James. It is a crime. You will never achieve just ends with such unjust means."
"Don't give me that line," The General snapped. "The only difference between the Vanguard program and your Academies is that my methods actually produce capable soldiers. Your feeble half-measures will do nothing but cost lives in the end." He waved dismissively. "Above all else, my Vanguard will be loyal, absolutely unable to be swayed by our enemies."
Ozpin sighed. "What fresh hell are you plotting now?"
"Just watch."
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As Jaune waited patiently, one last chamber door opened, and it took all of his considerable discipline to avoid cracking a smile at the last joke that The General played.
A small ball of golden floof bounded towards him, and from instinct, Jaune knelt to pet his puppy.
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Then
"I said no."
"But daddy! He has nowhere else to go!"
Jacques Schnee sneered at the golden retriever puppy that his daughter held in her arms. Apparently, she had found the wretched thing sniffing through the garbage, and had thought to bring the thing into the Schnee Manor.
"Get that filthy mongrel out of here. If I see it again, I will have it thrown from the side of Atlas."
Weiss's lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears, as if such childish displays could move him from his position. He waved her away, returning to his work. He had far too many more important things on his mind than his daughter's latest bout of idiocy.
As she walked through the empty, sterile halls of the Schnee Manor, Weiss tried not to cry. The little floof in her arms sensed her distress, and whined, pulling upwards to lick at her face.
"I'm so sorry," she sobbed.
"Weiss?" The girl looked up to see Jaune Arc, seventeen and carrying himself like a seasoned warrior, looking at her. "Is there something wrong?"
Weiss frowned as she looked at the puppy in her arms. "This poor, good boy has nowhere to go, but….my father threatened to kill it if it stayed here…"
Jaune shifted uncomfortably. Somehow, Weiss always made him… feel things, things he didn't know how to handle. There was no training manual on how to deal with beautiful girls who made his heart flip in his chest. "Well...maybe I can take him?"
She looked up at him. "How?"
He thought it for a moment. "Maybe I can sell it to The General as a training exercise. Learning to care for a being the way I'll be expected to care for a subordinate."
Weiss smiled sadly at him. "That could work...it's our best shot, at least. Okay. You be a good boy for Jaune, okay?"
Jaune took the puppy in his arms, then gave his best impression of a smile to Weiss, to try to make her feel better.
He felt her soft lips on his cheek.
"Thank you."
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Now
'He does not know fear." The General said over the intercom. "He does not know weakness. All he knows is duty. Jaune Arc, I order you to kill that dog."
Jaune stared at the puppy, his hand going to his gun out of pure, instilled instinct.
The dog stared back up at him, it's big brown eyes full of love, totally devoid of suspicion. His tongue lolled out happily, and its tail wagged as he looked up at Jaune.
In that moment, one thought raced through Jaune's mind.
Weiss would never forgive me.
They were feelings foreign to his entire life, feelings of warm and gold, of…
Of…
Love?
With deliberate care, Jaune removed his hand from his gun. "I am sorry, sir," he said, trying to keep his voice from quavering. "But I must respectfully decline."
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Inside the observation booth, The General couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I gave you an order, Cadet Arc!"
"And I...I must refuse. Sir."
The General scowled. "Bring him up here," he snapped to two of his soldiers, who saluted and ran off to carry out his orders.
"My, my," Ozpin remarked. "It seems as though your methods aren't as foolproof as you might have thought."
The General gritted his teeth so hard that they were in danger of breaking. When the soldiers brought up Jaune Arc, the young soldier standing straight and entirely unrepentant, The General's temper snapped.
He didn't say a word as he stormed up to him.
The General marched up to Jaune Arc, and without ceremony, ripped the rifle from the soldier's holster before snapping it over his knee. He quickly divested the boy of his armor and weapons, tearing the armor off and throwing it on the floor. Soon, Jaune was left standing in naught but a pair of boxer shorts.
"You came here with nothing," The General said, his tone dangerous. "You leave here with nothing. I have no use for failures." With that, he stormed from the building. The soldiers followed, leaving the boy to stand awkwardly in front of the two strangers, his entire world destroyed in an instant.
Ozpin sipped his cup.
"Mister Arc. How would you like to attend my school?"
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Chapter Endnotes: Thus beginning a story wherein a very intense Jaune has to learn how to be more of an actual person, the lovable Jaune buried beneath the killer that Ironwood shaped him to be. Hope this story draws interest….
-Mahina
