UFF Capital City, Netvorville
23:44 hours
Roman Torchwick watches the headlights of the approaching humvee grow brighter through the thick rain.
Except for emergency lights, Netvorville is completely dark, curfew and electricity rationing already in effect. There are military checkpoints at every major intersection, loudspeaker set up to broadcast propaganda and air raid sirens, which are tested in a city-wide drill every two weeks. The privately owned cars have been replaced by city buses, used to ferry factory workers to their jobs, where they build the machines that fight the humans. Roman smiles to himself. He had just gotten back from a job in the Kingdoms and, he must admit, the Faunus are taking this war a lot more seriously than the humans right now.
The humvee pulls over to the curve in the thick downpour and the door swing open. He climbs in without hesitation, pulling the door closed as the black military vehicle immediately speed away.
"You're late," Roman says to the woman across from him, taking off his bowler hat and brushing the water off.
"I thought for sure the Federation's most successful organized crime mobster would keep better track of time," the woman says. She has shoulder length black hair, bright orange eyes, combat boots, a grey trench coat, and assumably a short dress underneath. She sizes Roman up with a smirk. "Especially with a war on the horizon. Business is booming."
"Yeah, about that…" Roman replies, putting his hat back on. "If you could give me a few updates concerning your undoubtedly masterful plan, including that part where you declared war on all of fucking humanity, I might be able to deal more damage to Coalition forces." The woman leans forward, smirk gone.
"I hope you're not suggesting that you should be put in charge of my operation," she growls.
"Goddamn, this woman is a bitch," Roman thinks to himself.
"Of course not," he says aloud. "I'm just saying that if you're putting me and the White Fang in charge of stirring shit up in the border countries, then I'd like a heads up whenever something big changes. Believe it or not, my steel was actually tested when you triggered an open conflict and allowed the Kingdoms to send thousands of soldiers, tanks, and helicopters into my business. Do you know how hard it is to go from bootleg alcohol and dust to whole battalions of tanks in 24 hours? Speaking of which, I have a sale on a battalion of tanks right now. Buy seven, get one free."
"I'm not here to listen to your drivel, Roman," the woman says.
"Yeah, I get that a lot," Roman says. "So...why am I here exactly?"
"We're advancing to phase two."
"Oh, there's a phase two? I didn't even know there was a phase one."
"The VAF is pulling out some new cards. So, you're done being a petty thief for the time being."
"Petty thief? Hey, I have feelings, you know. Not a lot, but they're there. Occasionally."
"Just give me all of your dust, weapons, and everything else on the black market, and focus the White Fang's efforts on fighting the Coalition troops. The Federation will be completely funding you for the rest of the war."
"Sounds exciting," Roman says, leaning back in his seat. "Alright, I can get behind being a warlord for a while. Anything else?"
"Yes, I'm going to need a few of your best people. Like, let's say, that girl that's always smiling?"
"Well, technically, she's not actually smiling, but yes, I know what you mean."
"Give me a list of people like her. I have a specific job for them."
"Roger that." The humvee stops at a street corner. Roman opens the door and begins to step out, but stops. "By the way, those 'cards' the VAF has that you mentioned; they wouldn't happen to be those squads of soldiers with self-repairing armor that the White Fang keeps reporting about, does it?"
"Get out, Roman."
"So, yes."
"Seriously, think about the tanks," he says as he gets back out into the soaking rain. "I need to get them out of my warehouse." The woman shuts the door herself, and the humvee speeds away.
HCS Wounded Angel airship, HKC airspace
14:29 hours
"General Ozpin," Ozpin's secretary says over the phone. "Private Rose has arrived."
"Send her in," he replies.
"I still don't see why you want to see her personally," Glynda comments.
"Me neither, but let's see," Ozpin says. The door opens, and a young, pale woman with black hair tinted red, silver eyes, and an expression of anxiety on her face enters. She salutes, which Ozpin returns.
"At ease," he says. Rose complies. Her eyes are looking straight forward, but occasionally dart from one object in the room to the next. "Take a seat, Private," he says, gesturing to the chair in front of him. The girl hesitantly sits down. She immediately starts fidgeting with her fingers on her lap.
"Um, permission to speak, Sir?" Rose asks.
"Permission granted," Ozpin replies.
"Well, it's just that, uh, if this is about the Battle of Camp Signal, which I assume it is, uh, I'm not exactly sure why I'm here. I mean, I filled out a report, two reports actually, uh, wait, how many reports? Anyway, I filled out some reports, told my CO everything that happened, and that was two months ago, so...am I in trouble, Sir?" Ozpin glances at Glynda, who rolls her eyes.
"No, Private Rose, you're not in trouble," Ozpin reassures the young soldier. He picks up a file marked "CONFIDENTIAL"; Rose's bio report. "Now before we continue, let me get this straight. At approximately 04:20 hours on August 4th, you and your platoon was woken up for an early morning drill at Camp Signal. For reasons made unclear to me, you were late to reporting to the mess hall when it was destroyed by multiple explosive devices by Federation soldiers, losing your entire unit in the process. Moments later, a company of Faunus infantry advanced through the northwest portion of the base, close to where you were, and fired on the base's occupants. The HCS Airwalker, the Templar airship that was intended to be your transportation to your drill, detected multiple large heat signatures believed to be heavy anti-air missile launchers, and the captain decided to abandon the base, not wanting to get taken down without being any help to the base. In reality, the Faunus faked the heat signatures in order to protect their ground force, which would be vulnerable to that type of firepower. Sometime in between the initial attack and the Airwalker bugging out, you took it upon yourself to sprint out of the base, avoiding heavy gunfire, and across the desert, wearing heavy military clothing and boots, for nearly an hour, nonstop. You get close enough to signal the airship with your flare, they send a Bullhead to pick you up, and you, nearly unconscious from exhaustion, inform the crew chief that the Faunus have no anti-air. The crew chief passes it along to the Airwalker's captain, who turns back around, doesn't get shot down, and moves in to assist the survivors still in the base." There's a brief silence.
"Um, yes Sir, you're correct, all of it," Rose says.
"Would I also be correct in saying that you are the reason that the 674 survivors of Camp Signal are still alive?"
"Uh...I don't know, Sir. I was just doing my job, Sir," Rose says quietly.
"You sprinted full speed for an hour straight with three pound weights on each foot. Most other soldiers wouldn't survive fifteen mikes, but you lasted sixty."
"Well, I have been running for my whole life, I ran on the high school track team, practiced in my spare time and whatnot. I guess that's why I chose to sign up for a scout sniper, because I already knew I could run, and I got pretty good with a rifle from hunting with my uncle. Oh yeah, that and my uncle is Lieutenant Qrow from the First War, and he helped me prepare for what is expected from a scout sniper and everything." Rose suddenly goes silent when she realizes she's rambling. Ozpin smiles.
"Why do you fight, Private Rose?" he asks simply. Rose gives him a perplexed look.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I don't really understand what you're asking," she says.
"Why did you join the Vale Armed Forces? I'm assuming you've already been told this, but you're still more a civilian than a soldier, but have the skills better than a lot of the soldiers."
"Oh," Rose murmurs, then says louder and with more confidence, "I wanted to help people."
"Why not a civilian job? Why did you choose to risk your life?" Rose takes a moment to gather her thoughts.
"Well, I've always wanted to help people, but I never really thought about it until my uncle brought it up. Sure, I kept myself fit and knew discipline, teamwork, how to use and care for a rifle, and everything else. But I also have another person in my family that fought in the First War."
"Major Summer Rose, your mother," Ozpin answers in the bio report's exact words. Rose momentarily gives him a quizzical look, but nods.
"Yes, my mother. She gave birth to me five years into the war after gaining popularity as a rear echelon commander. From what I've heard, she fought tooth and nail to be able to keep me and stay in the military. I'm only a Kingdom citizen because I was born on an FOB in Faunus territory. I was immediately shipped back to Patch, where my father lived."
"He didn't fight in the war?" Ozpin asks, even though he already knows the answer.
"No, he fought in the regiment my mother served in, which was where they met and how I was conceived, I guess. But he left when my mother was about five months pregnant with me, but I don't know the reason," Rose answers. Ozpin knows the reason. Dishonorable discharge. "Anyway, my mother stayed on the frontlines, I'm guessing planning on raising me as soon as the war ended. But then, she...disappeared, pronounced MIA around the time I was three. The Feds never released their full prisoner reports, so she could still be alive, but I'm not waiting for her anymore."
Rose grows quiet for a second, staring down at her fidgeting hands. Ozpin looks to Glynda again, who still looks stern, but less exasperated.
"So I guess what I'm getting at," Rose continues. "Is that, if my mom was willing to give up motherhood in order to keep me safe and fight in the trenches, then that's the kind of help I want to give, if not for my kingdom, then for the people I love. I guess I fight to find out why my mom did what she did, why she thought for everything else before herself." Ozpin waits a moment before speaking.
"Do you know who I am?" he asks.
"General Ozpin, base commander of Fort Beacon," Ruby answers.
"Correct. I'm also the founder and senior commander of Project Hunter, a newly established special forces unit. We're making good progress, but I want to build more teams. Do you want to be part of one?"
"I'm sorry, Sir?" Rose says, surprised. "Aren't I supposed to volunteer for one and pass physical and mental exercises before I'm even considered for special forces?"
"Not this one. I want you exactly the way you are right now. You will go through special ops training once you're with your teammates. The Hunter Program focuses greatly on teamwork, so it's important you begin and end training together. You can also use whatever gear you choose, including some prototype gear not in mass production yet." Rose sits back in her chair, overwhelmed.
"Will I get front line combat?" she asks.
"You'll be getting everything thrown at you. But trust me when I say that I wouldn't have my entire faith in you surviving anything you'd face if we weren't talking right now." Rose looks down again and nods.
"Alright, I'm in," Rose says. "When do I start?"
"Report back to your CO, we'll forward your deployment location and further instructions to him. Dismissed," Ozpin says. Rose stands up, salutes, and opens the door of the office.
"Oh, and Private," Ozpin says. The young girl turns around. "Say hi to your uncle for me." Rose blinks, but doesn't seem to be surprised by Ozpin's mysterious history anymore.
"Will do, Sir," she answers, and leaves the office. Glynda stands up, scroll in hand.
"Well, she's a lot tougher than I gave her credit for, I'll admit that," she says. "So, does she qualify for the roster?"
"Make her team leader," Ozpin says without hesitation.
"Sir?" Glynda says, surprised.
"Something wrong, Lieutenant General?" he asks.
"No, Sir. I just don't understand. She's obviously fit for combat as a Hunter, maybe with some more disciplinary training perhaps, but otherwise fit. But do you really want the three other candidates for her squad to correlate with her bio report? Why not an experienced veteran, or at least an officer."
"You said the same thing when JNPR Squad was formed."
"And I still don't understand, sir." Ozpin sighs and refills his coffee mug.
"I don't expect you to understand how my algorithm works, but it's worked so far, and it'll work with Private Rose as team leader in the future."
"Yes, Sir," Glynda says. She presses a few buttons on her scroll, and Ozpin's scroll beeps. He picks it up and starts configuring the newly established Hunter squad.
"Let's see who your squadmates will be," he says to himself.