Chapter 4

The world came to a jarring halt as Jaune impacted asphalt. He winced as vibrations ran up his legs and left arm, which had simultaneously borne the brunt of the landing. He knew he was fine. His aura was down by a noticeable chunk, but would come back in due time, assuming he didn't suffer any more blunt force trauma in the immediate future.

Almost as if some arbitrarily divine entity was reading his thoughts, there was the crash of shattering glass, and an all too familiar snarl. Largely on instinct, he raised his shield and slid back a metre or two when a Beowolf leapt through a nearby storefront and barrelled into him with snapping jaws and clawing arms. Jaune let out a grunt of effort, as he lowered his stance, then flipped the offending creature over his head. As it landed on its side, he sunk his blade in its neck. He twisted his right arm, then pulled it back to let a stream of crimson blood and dark smoke gush out of the wound.

As he stood up, the Beowolf's head was cracked open in a gory display of flesh, fur, and bone. He glanced right to where Pyrrha was aiming Milo in its rifle form at the now still corpse and gave her a nod of thanks. Better to make sure it was dead now, rather than risk a final desperate chomp or swipe.

Ren and Nora were a few metres away, having jumped from the other side of the Oxhide. Ahead of them, closer to the crash site and town centre was Team BEIJ, and behind was CYAN. He tapped the scroll on his shield arm to communicate with the others.

"BEIJ. Hold position while CYAN and JNPR come to you."

"Got it. Holding."

"Copy. Let's move, CYAN!"

Jaune and his own team moved at a brisk jog down the street, careful to pay attention to their surroundings in the event of another ambush like his own little encounter. No doubt most, if not all, in the area had either fled to the town centre or been swarmed by the Grimm. With a pang of guilt, he tried not to look for any bodies, but couldn't ignore the scores of abandoned and beat-up vehicles that lined the road. The Oxhides were still circling above, raining death on the surrounding Grimm. At one point, one of the VTOLs flew right above him, and he had to sidestep around a rain of spent casings, as one of its side Miniguns let loose a hailstorm at a target he couldn't see. When they reached BEIJ, they didn't have to wait long for CYAN to group up with them.

"Alright. Set up a perimeter," he called out. "Team leaders on me."

Nine students, including Pyrrha, Nora and Ren, focused their weapons outward, setting up overlapping fields of fire. The bangs and cracks of their weapons, lovingly crafted to reflect their unique approaches to combat sounded off to ward away or, failing that, cut down the curious and malicious.

He knew BEIJ's and CYAN's leaders from the leadership courses he'd had to take, in addition to regular classes. The first to reach him was Baylee from BEIJ, a girl in a red tunic and black trousers who held a sabre in one hand and a nasty looking hand cannon in the other. From CYAN was Conrad, a boy weighed down by even more armour than Jaune and carrying a heavily modified marksman rifle.

"Nice pep talk back there," said Baylee. "What's the plan?"

"We rush the downed Oxhide together and look for survivors," said Jaune. He didn't want to acknowledge that anyone from CFVY or 1-1's crew might be dead, but it wouldn't do them much good to have unrealistic expectations. "Do any of our guys have medical training?"

"Yeah," said Conrad, his voice slightly modulated from the speakers in his helmet. "Noah's worked with his folks in a clinic."

"Then your team will get in there, and check on the people inside," said Jaune. "The rest of us will settle in around the VTOL and see if we can get one of the pilots to airlift the casualties out. After that, we move to Avanti and follow our original orders – make sure it stays a strongpoint for Vale and Atlas. Any objections?"

"None here."

"Nope. Sounds good."

"Alright," said Jaune. He drew in a deep breath, then exhaled. "Let your teams know what's about to happen. On my signal, we move as a group to the crash site."

The other two nodded, and Jaune rejoined the rest of JNPR, who'd set themselves up in a triangle formation. Pyrrha was bracing her rifle on her shield and taking careful shots at a pack of Beowolves bounding across a distant intersection. Nora had Magnhild in its grenade launcher configuration and was lobbing explosives at a pair of Ursa that were being distracted and slowed down by Ren's machine pistols.

"Get ready to move!" he said, raising his voice to make sure he could be heard over the sound of their weapons. "We're gonna cover CYAN while they check inside 1-1. After we get everyone out, we're heading to Avanti."

He received a trio of affirmatives, after which his scroll relayed Baylee's and Conrad's confirmations of readiness.

"Okay people. Let's get to that crash site. Go! Go!"

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They'd had to run a few hundred metres to reach the Oxhide. The force of its crash had firmly planted it in the ground, skewed on its right side. There were over half a dozen conspicuous holes in the roof, where the Nevermore had latched on earlier, and the cockpit's glass had been cracked. Fortunately, the other pilots had been vigilant in keeping the Grimm away from the downed bird. But they still didn't know how many wounded or – heavens forbid – dead they'd find inside.

"CYAN! You're up!" he called to Conrad, who gave him a thumbs up and gestured for his team to circle around to one of the open sides. He, JNPR, and BEIJ settled down around the VTOL's frame, preparing to repel anything that slipped through their air cover. He fiddled with his scroll for a few seconds, trying to figure out how to contact Atlas command. Eventually, he got a connection.

"Watch Master. This is Team JNPR," he said. "We've reached the crash site and are checking for survivors."

"Copy that, JNPR," came the voice of Watch Master. "Be advised, aerial Grimm presence is escalating around your zone. You won't have much time before Pitcher Flight has to fall back. Over."

"Roger. We'll be quick as we can. Out." said Jaune.

A minute passed before his scroll lit up again with Conrad's voice.

"This is CYAN. It's bad, but could be worse. Pilot can't move, and the crew chiefs are knocked out. Coco and Velvet are conscious, but not doing too hot, and Yatsuhashi and Fox are pretty banged up. Noah says we need to stabilise some of these guys before we can evac them."

"Right," said Jaune. While relieved to hear there hadn't been fatalities, he was still shaken. Considering how confident he'd been in their durability when telling the others to jump, the news that CFVY had been hit so hard was as sobering as it was confusing. Just how bad had the crash been to incapacitate the second-years? "How long do you need?"

"Don't know. The VTOL's fuselage is all warped and dented to shit. We'll have to try to cut the pilot out, but our weapons aren't exactly made for that."

He was right. Huntsmen wielded tools of destruction. Whatever precision or utility they were designed with was for the purpose of dealing death. If, say, Nora tried to brute force the crew out of the Oxhide, they ran a good chance of finishing the Nevermore's job and killing the people inside via hammer to the face. His sword, and Milo in its Xiphos configuration would do better, but he really didn't want to risk stabbing a friendly.

Although, speaking of Milo…

"Pyrrha."

His teammate looked to him questioningly.

"You think your semblance will work on the ship?"

Considering most of the Oxhide was made of metal, it was a rhetorical question, and his teammate quickly latched onto the idea.

"I can get them out."

Jaune nodded, then contacted Conrad. "I'm gonna send in Pyrrha. Her magnetism will take care of the frame."

"Roger. It's getting pretty crowded in here, so I'll leave Noah to work on the wounded while the rest of us join the perimeter."

"Copy that. Pyrrha! You're clear!"

His teammate acknowledged and sprinted off to the Oxhide, passing by most of CYAN as they exited the crashed VTOL. It was at times like this that Jaune wished he had a ranged or hybrid weapon that could let him contribute to the fight. With their current overwhelming firepower of a dozen students and a flight of Oxhides, his comparatively plain sword and shield were feeling more than a little useless.

Confidant that the rest of the students could manage without him for a minute, he waved over Conrad. The two of them crouched and put their heads near each other to maximise the volume of their voices over both the literal and figurative roar of battle. No need to clog up radio chatter when they were so close.

"How did CFVY get so beat up?" he asked.

"Coco said the Nevermore's talons were swiping at them the whole way down," replied Conrad. "No room to get out of the way, and they couldn't risk hitting the crew with their weapons."

Jaune suppressed a light shiver, remembering how he'd equated the Oxhides to flying coffins earlier. One of a Huntsman's greatest tools was mobility. If they couldn't conceal their presence from the Grimm, they would try to prevent themselves from being properly acquired. If they were acquired, they would evade. If they couldn't evade, they would try to minimise the loss of aura when being hit. The Nevermore had cut right through to the last resort. Jaune had witnessed firsthand how deadly its talons could be. Even when swinging blindly at the occupants it couldn't see, a couple of lucky hits could be all it needed to knock out a student. And when adding on the kinetic force and whiplash of the crash itself…

"There was a trauma kit in the passenger compartment," continued Conrad. "It's got a collapsible stretcher we can use to ferry them for another Oxhide to get these guys out of here."

"Good idea," said Jaune. Both of them reflexively ducked down as a pair of Atlesian fighters roared overhead, their engines causing a strong gust that seemed to go in every direction at once. "I'll let the other pilots know."

He keyed into the VTOLs above. "Pitcher Flight. This is JNPR. We've set up a perimeter around the crash site. Many wounded, but no dead. Can anyone try to land hear? Over."

"Copy, JNPR. Standby. Over."

The reply took about half a minute. Jaune imagined the pilots were deliberating with each other and command.

"Negative, JNPR. We've got too many hostiles coming in from the skies. Escorts are close to losing this airspace and Watch Master wants us out in two Mikes (minutes)."

They'd taken too long. Jaune remembered snippets of communications that mentioned more incoming flying Grimm. After months of fighting and training with their own four-man teams, having any form of air support had been a novelty experience. For now, their superior firepower had been obliterating the ground targets. But the feeling of invincibility he'd come dangerously close to drowning in would disappear the moment the Oxhides withdrew, leaving JNPR, BEIJ and CYAN to pull their own weight.

Abandoning CFVY and 1-1's crew was out of the question. But the streets were too open for them. They could handle the Grimm for a while. However, the time would come when they ran out of ammo, aura, and energy. With no respite in sight, they'd fall one by one to attrition. He was locking up with indecision. They needed to reach Avanti, but they also needed to get the wounded out.

…

Hell, why not both at the same time?

"Copy that," he said back to the pilots, before switching frequencies. "Watch Master. We can't extract 1-1. We're gonna carry them to Avanti and see if we can get some help there. Over."

"Roger, JNPR," came the reply. "Be advised, air support will be withdrawing from your area, and will not be able to cover you when you make the run."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," said Jaune, fully aware that he was probably impeding on radio discipline or etiquette, but also running out of patience to make the effort. He was a student, not a soldier. "We'll be careful."

"Understood, JNPR. Good luck. Watch Master out."

Jaune then contacted Baylee. Conrad was still next to him, rifle braced on his shoulder and firing steadily at the more distant targets. "Heads up! We're gonna have to haul the wounded to Avanti. Conrad. Let Noah know what we're doing. I'll head in and help Pyrrha with the stretcher."

"Loud and clear, Jaune."

"You got it. Noah. Change of plans–"

His pure reliance on melee wasn't doing them any good right now. If he was going to be of any use, he was going to be a stretcher bearer. They'd have to make multiple trips, but he trusted the rest of the students to provide cover while he and Pyrrha ran for the town centre.

"I'm headed for the Oxhide," he said. "Nora. Ren. Fall back with me and cover the outside. Baylee. See if you can push to Avanti and get them to open up for us. Everyone else. Reform the perimeter. Start taking positions along the road. I want a clear path to the town centre!"

Affirmatives rang out as he made his way to the VTOL. When he entered the passenger compartment, he was mentally preparing himself for the worst. Conrad's team hadn't appeared too shaken when they'd rejoined the main group, but he wanted to err on the side of caution. His first thought at the sight before him was that there wasn't as much blood as he'd thought there'd be. That was quickly overridden with the self-reminder that there could still be a lot of internal damage. Broken bones, punctured organs, and severed blood vessels were all possibilities, even with the borderline magical protection their auras offered.

He saw Noah – a boy whose form was largely covered in a lab coat. Once pristine white, it was now encased in a noticeable layer of grime and drying fluids. He was currently kneeling next to one of the crew chiefs, spreading antiseptic across his arm in preparation for an IV drip. His weapon, a bulky crossbow, was on the floor within easy reach in case a Grimm somehow broke through their perimeter.

"Friendly coming in," Jaune announced. Noah glanced in his direction and nodded before turning back to his work.

"Conrad filled me in," he said. "The crew chiefs are in bad shape. I still need some time to stabilise them, but you can start moving CFVY out."

It was then that Jaune turned his attention to the second-years. As per Conrad's initial report, Yatsuhashi (a large, muscular swordsman) and Fox (a lithe, dark skinned boy) were out cold. Field dressing covered the former's back, most likely concealing the result of a particularly nasty swipe from the now deceased Nevermore. He couldn't see any external wounds on the latter.

Velvet (a rabbit Faunus) was up and awake, but her eyes were unfocused, and she occasionally tilted her head to one side before jerking back upright. Coco appeared the most lucid out of the crash victims, alternating between keeping Velvet steady, and cursing as she fiddled with a black, metallic case. She looked up as Noah finished his explanation and pointed to Yatsuhashi and Fox.

"Them first," her words were short and clipped. However much pain she was in, she was putting on a brave front for the rest of them. Despite what command had said about transferring responsibility for the Strike Team onto Jaune, she was still their de facto leader. He respected her grit, but it wasn't going to do them much good if she collapsed on them.

"Is Coco able to fight?" he asked Noah, who shook his head.

"At best, she's got a concussion that I don't have time to treat. We need to get her to the centre where I or someone else can take a better look."

Any protests Coco would have made at the verdict were cut off as Pyrrha reappeared with the pilot, who had one of her arms slung over her shoulders.

"Set her down there," instructed Noah, then addressed the pilot directly, all the while continuing to tend to the crew chief. "Where are you injured, ma'am?"

"Left arm feels like it's broken," the pilot said through gritted teeth, as she was gently lowered. She pointed to the small arms storage container and motioned for Pyrrha to help her load a magazine into a submachine gun. "Lower ribs hurt like a bitch and I'm seeing double."

"Alright. Pyrrha, Jaune. Trauma kit's over there," Noah pointed. "I need you to get the stretcher and start moving some of these guys out of here."

They did as instructed and started unfolding the metal frame. Once it was fully extended and locked in, they lifted Yatsuhashi onto the overlaying leather. Avanti was around three hundred metres from their current position. It was practically a short jog. But with their current 'load' and the multiple trips they'd have to make, it was going to be difficult to keep up the momentum. Might as well start off with carrying the heaviest casualty first.

After securing their senior to the stretcher, they grabbed the handles (Jaune at the front, and Pyrrha at the back). Slowly, they rose from a crouch to standing positions, careful to maintain balance.

"Baylee. Conrad. Your teams set?" Jaune said into his scroll.

"CYAN's in position. We've got your alley right here."

"BEIJ here. Avanti's lowering one of their barricades."

"Alright. Pyrrha. You good?"

"Ready."

Jaune took a deep breath.

"Go!"

His legs started pumping.

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Codex Entry: The Atlas Huntsmen Corps (AHC)

From their formation after the Great War, Huntsmen were brought into Remnant as a group of elite individuals burdened with the unenviable task of defending the people from the creatures of Grimm. Nurtured from youth to hone their skills and resolve, those who elect to see through their training and graduate from their respective Academy are promised little more than a life full of blood, sweat and tears. It is not a duty for the faint of heart, and many a candidate has flinched away from the opportunity. But those who commit to, if not also revel in, the idea of standing against the asphyxiating darkness and threat of annihilation, represent the finest warriors in mankind's history.

The creation and training of Huntsmen is a process closely monitored and regulated by all four Kingdoms. However, once they earn their final qualification, these men and women face surprisingly little scrutiny from their governments. Free to operate as they please, there have been several cases of Huntsmen utilising their hard-earned skills for less than exemplary means, from petty theft to and acts of extortion and terror, and outright murder.

When Atlas was formed in 32 AGW, it sought to 'reign in' the unpredictable nature of such Huntsmen by incorporating them into its military. In 34 AGW, the doors to a revamped Atlas Academy were officially opened, and the Atlas Huntsmen Corps was formed.

Existing as part of both AASOC (Atlas Army Special Operations Command), and the multi-service JSOC (Joint Special Operations Command), the AHC falls directly under the Atlas military's authority. While those who graduate from academies in other Kingdoms become fully-fledged Huntsmen, Atlas Academy requires its students to serve in active duty for an undisclosed amount of time and fulfil a secret criterion before even offering them the chance to pass another gruelling qualification course to join the AHC. Only then may they be granted the vaunted title.

Many details of the AHC's exact composition, formation, and operations are classified to the public. However, it is clear they adhere to their earlier training by continuing to deploy in teams of four, and can work both independently, and in conjunction with regular forces. They also appear to retain their own hand-crafted weapons, but their attire has been somewhat standardised through regulations.

In the present day, the AHC is one of many units involved in counter-terrorism efforts against organisations such as the White Fang.