-=-=-=Six Months Later=-=-=-

Six months.

Six grueling months of training, from close combat and marksmanship to safety and purity classes, the 143rd Valyan Desert Raiders whipped Jaune into shape.

Although it wasn't like he wasn't already in impeccable shape, three years of Beacon, all of which with extra training from Pyrrha-

Jaune shook his head, he couldn't think about that right now, the last thing he needed was to start wondering about them.

Jaune stared blankly at the strange mix of metal and masonry that made up his barracks, he'd seen the religious heraldry in the visions, but seeing them up close and personal was a totally different story. Large stone statues of long-lost warriors and purity seals slapped on every possible surface. Aside from the decor, the room was filled with the hustle and bustle one could only imagine from a lively military barrack.

One bunk to Jaune's left was a couple of grizzled older men, no doubt veterans, sat in a circle playing a game of poker, their faces were blank of emotion, a pile of cigarettes and a bottle of what was no doubt alcohol sat between them in a makeshift 'pot'.

Across the room sat an unbelievably tall woman, Jaks Moritz if he remembered correctly, her light brown hair only a couple of inches long, her green-hazel eyes studying the large tome in her hands, it's cover adorned with the symbol of two intertwined snakes and a skull with wings. Jaune remembered seeing her in training, although he never saw her outside of the first aid course for some reason.

The bunk to his immediate right was occupied by a short brunette woman whom he'd never meet, her face was neutral as she tapped away at a data slate, her violet eyes darting back and forth across its screen.

Further to his right was a table of men and women, some of them Felinids, all drinking and laughing together, all of them acting like they weren't on a hunk of metal and steel being flung through a literal hell dimension to some of the bloodiest war imaginable.

It was strange, this universe was so full of horror and death, yet these people push on, they joyously continue on their path with faith in their Emperor. It was bizarre, and yet it somehow made him feel more at home than ever.

Jaune was shaken from his thoughts by his partner, the blond-haired felinid having climbed down from the bunk above him to sit beside him, "Thank you, again."

"I said to stop thanking me," Jaune replied, his elbow finding it's way to her side, "I wasn't going to leave you to die."

Valmir casually punched the blond man and smirked, "I'm thanking you for the top bunk."

"Oh, yeah," Jaune mumbled, his cheeks lightly flushed in embarrassment as he scratched the back of his head nervously, "it's no problem,"

Val let out a small laugh, "Well I'll thank you again for that too, and that 'other' thing."

Before Jaune could respond, a glint caught Val's eye, looking over she found Jaune's sheathed sword leaning against the corner where his bunk meet the wall. Grabbing it with practiced ease, she unsheathed a portion and inspected the blade. "So, where'd ya get the metal poking stick?"

Jaune sighed in annoyance, every attempt at grabbing the sword from the felinid woman being meet with failure, "It was my grandfathers, he fought with it, my dad fought with it, and now I fight with it."

"Oh?" Val looked at the weapon, confusion clear on her face, "And where did you're family get a power weapon from?"

"It's not a power weapon, Val," Jaune chuckled, using her moment of confusion to snatch the sword from her grasp and place it in the locker beside his bed, "It's just a sword, no fancy gimmicks."

"Well, I suppose an appreciation for the classics can't hurt."

Jaune let out an almost bitter chuckle that didn't go unnoticed by Val, "Yeah, the classics."

"Are you-"

A klaxon rang through the barracks, everyone's attention on the closest speaker, their previous activities forgotten as they listened intently.

"ALL HANDS, PREPARE TO LEAVE WARPSPACE IN T-MINUS FIFTEEN MINUTES." A mechanical voice spoke through the shipwide Vox.

The once calm and homely environment of the Barrack immediately evaporated, men and women packed away their personal effects with practiced ease and moved to their lockers to don their sandy regimental jumpsuits and light brown flak armor.

A couple of moments later and Jaune tightened the last strap on his armor, his helmet sitting on the bed next to him, his sword still leaned against the wall.

The blond stared at the sword for a moment, his eyes studying the sheathed blade for a moment. The sound of Val's heavy boots impacting the ground next to him caused him to shake his head and slide on his helmet.

Jaune picked up the sword and followed Val out of the barracks, the familiar weight of the sword soothing his already rising nerves.

-=-=-=Line Break - Armory=-=-=-

"Name and Rank?" The quartermaster asked in a tired tone, his eyes glazed over after handing out his hundredth lasgun.

"Jaune Arc, Guardsman." The blond man replied easily.

The quartermaster processed the information, his eyebrows raising a bit as he read his data slate, gaze shifting from the device and Jaune a couple of times before shrugging and retrieving a lasgun from the rack behind him.

The quartermaster placed the weapon in front of Jaune before spinning around again, this time returning with a belt kitted out with a bayonet, e-tool, canteen, three power packs, and two frag grenades.

"Try not to bleed on it too much, okay?" The tired man stated bluntly before waving the next person up.

The blond man grimaced and collected his wargear, allowing Val to proceed and collect her own gear.

While she did that, Jaune donned his belt and examined the lasgun he was assigned, it was a Voss pattern if the shortened barrel and wire stock were anything to go by.

The weapon was clean, but not without wear and tear, every mark and scratch a symbol of honor, this weapon had seen true warfare, and would no doubt see even more in the upcoming years.

The blond slipped the weapon onto his shoulder with content, it may not have been much, but every little bit helped, right?

-=-=-=Line Break=-=-=-

"INCOMING!"

*BOOM*

Jaune dropped to cover, pulling Val with him as clumps of grass and dirt rained on their heads, bloodcurdling shrieks of pain followed, as they always did after an Earthshaker was sent their way.

Jaune ripped a frag grenade from his belt and flung it over the trench wall, the resulting blast and cries of pain gave the grime-coated blond the chance he needed to peak from cover and let loose a handful of shots, three hit home, flash-boiling the skin of a mutated cultist's head, making it burst like a crushed grape.

Dipping back into cover, Jaune heard the snaps of lasgun fire as it peppered the dirt above him, showering the filthy blond in more dirt and grime.

Looking around the small trench, Jaune took a headcount of the surviving members of Phoenix squad, Val was alive, though she'd taken a pair of autogun rounds to her flak chest, the squad medic, Jaks, was alive and well, although she was too busy triaging the few injured they had from other squads to do anything more, and one of the squad's grenadiers, Aeris, remained uninjured.

Jaune nodded his head and opened up their last munitions box, ten more power packs and they'd be out for their lasguns.

The blond grimaced, the last thing he wanted to do was fight some mutant with a crab claw for an arm with nothing but a sword.

The fire died down again, only the occasional crack of a lasgun or scream for a medic to remind them the battle was still going

Everyone took this opportunity to recover and prepare themselves for the next wave, taking sips from their canteens or cramming down a ration before checking over their gear over and over again, one man from another squad slipped his helmet over his eyes and went to sleep while another drew a pack of cigarettes and lighter, passing it around.

The pack was tossed to Jaune, he accepted, pulled one out, lit it, and passed the pack on.

The blond took a long drag from the half-crumpled white stick, the rolled tobacco burnt his throat, but it was a welcome change from the putrid stench of rotting carcasses and war.

In Remnant, Jaune had always been starkly against smoking and drinking, but now, after everything he'd seen, everything he'd done. The blond couldn't imagine a day without it.

He was changing in more ways than he'd ever imagine, things that would have horrified Remnant Jaune were thoughtless actions, in Remnant, it was easy to condemn something he'd never had to experience, but here? It was do or die, kill or be killed, kill or let others be killed.

And he sure as hell wasn't about to let anyone else be killed.

A/N

A bit of a shorter build-up chapter here, but there's a reason for it.

Okay so this was kind of a pain in the ass to write, It went through about four different edits before I even felt remotely okay with posting it, and even then it was way too long so I've cut it down into a couple of chapters.

Also, yes I know the quote from the description is from the Blood Ravens. No Jaune will not be a Blood Raven, he's a Guardsman, and that's what he'll stay.

On another note, I've got no Beta for this story, so if you'd be interested in being a Beta for me then just shoot me a PM and we'll talk about it, because lord knows I make mistakes when I write entire chapters at 3 AM and post them after reading over them once.

Thanks ya'll for reading, I hope you're all enjoying the story so far, drop me a review on what you think, along with what you think might happen next! :) I love you all, and I'll see you in the next one.