Hello readers, so it came to my attention that I should clear up a few things about our protagonist Jane. First, her loadout.

Basically think the ranger combat armor from Fallout New Vegas, but black. Gab armor plates from some heavy combat armor from F4 and put them on the shoulders and arms, while underneath is medium combat armor on the chest and legs. Her weapons are basically an MG34 with a shorter barrel. That's kept on a sling underneath her coat. Her pistol, well, go look up a Warhammer 40K bolt pistol. Not quite to that extreme, but up there. I figured this should be cleared up since there was a bit of confusion.


Fire danced in the air. The air was heavy, ash and dust and heat making it hard to breath. She had long since torn her headgear off, basking in the glow. Her weapons lay beside her, cast aside when she fell to her knees, arms spread, maniac grin almost pulling her face apart.

Before her lay The Pitt. Before it was a thriving slaver paradise, filled with mutated human beings. Slaves forced to work the forges, where they stripped the once great American city to it's core, melting it into weapons for war. Kept in check by a large, well established slaver gang, lead by an ex Brotherhood soldier.

She couldn't condone the acts the man had committed, the lives he had ruined, the thousands he had killed.

So she had lied, acted, and fought her way into his good graces. She met the monster who called itself a man, saw the atrocities he committed for a higher power. She had laughed at the time. He hadn't seen anything. Merely the effects of all that Jet upon his system.

So, during the nights, she worked. She would erase this place from the earth. It was a blight. A cancer, a festering wound upon the world. It needed to be cleansed. Purified in fire. Scorched from the earth.

So she built a bomb.

It wasn't hard. A few parts here, a few wires here. It was easy. Beneath the city, where the mutated monsters resided, she created her bomb. They didn't disturb her, parting like a sea of flesh where she walked. They might be mutated monstrosities, but deep down, deep in their psyche they were still somewhat human, and they knew she would kill them.

To attack her was foolish. Better to prey upon the slaves.

It took her a week. A week of working, hiding her intentions, creating something glorious. After a week, she marveled at her creation.

Almost 70 feet below the earth, where the heat was almost intolerable from the forges around her, lay twenty drums. All old, yellow paint flaking, decayed. A few of them had the telltale warning sign for Nuclear Radiation. They were wired together with scraps, explosives strapped to the top. Several were grouped around a large, central device. When she had found it, she had almost cheered, her plans coming to fruition.

A block of raw Plutonium.

Arrayed around in barrels and canisters, rigged with grenades and pipe bombs. She walked along her work, trailing a hand. Her Geiger counter was shrieking, but she didn't care. Radiation didn't bother her since Point Lookout.

Almost skipping, she left, heading for the entrance to this hell hole. Bypassing guards, slaves and other less than desirable elements of humanity, she crossed the bridge, the guards not shooting her. She technically had the favour of the ruler of the Pitt, having proved herself in combat.

Standing only at the end of the bridge, she smiled, pulling up her pip boy. Flicking through a few dials, she found the setting she wanted. Pressing it, she cranked another dial.

Sound started to issue from her wrist computer. Soft violins, a cello, uplifting music. A rendition of the American Anthem done without vocals. She had fond memories of this in the Vault. Hers was the greatest Nation upon this earth. It's wasteland her inheritance. She would make this world great again. But to do that, she had to cure it first.

Casting her weapons to her side, she spun, dancing with the music, psychotic glee overtaking her. She would fix this world, make it great, bring it the glory it deserved, make her ancestors proud.

The music continued, and she started to breath heavily. A heat had overtaken her, familiar and different. An indescribable joy had overtaken her, a feeling that finally, finally she was doing something right, moving towards the right path.

Her skin tingled, the movement of cloth pulling and tugging at her causing the heat to grow and her excitement to rise. The music intermingled with her thoughts, a rush of endorphins coursing through her brain. Every moment and motion was causing her to build up to something wonderful, her mind starting to unravel at the seams.

When the music reached a crescendo, she stopped, panting. With a shaky hand, almost not believing that she was going to do this, she readied her hand.

"Glory to America!" she cried, slamming her finger down on a switch.

In the distance, maybe 3 miles away, a light flashed into existence.

She fell to her knees, screaming in a primal release, the heat flooding her system as her eyes took in what she was seeing, her brain overloaded.

The light grew, exploding into existence. The air visibly distorted in an outwards dome. Smoke and ash reached into the heavens, forming a cloud that folded into itself from underneath. Secondary explosions erupted, the forges themselves going up into flames, molten metal moving quicker than a bullet. The heat boiled the metal skeleton of Pittsburgh, the few remaining buildings melting slightly before being shattered into rock sized fragments. Fire raced through the air. Even at her distance, the fire licked her form slightly, curling over it, as if there was a force protecting her.

Her head tilted back, her body shuddering. Arms held out at her sides, her fists clenched, basking in the glow of it all. She couldn't help but cry tears, having not felt this good in her entire life.

She didn't know how long she kneeled there, taking it all in, but she cracked an eye open to see the aftermath.

Where once stood a rotting city devoted towards slavery and vice, now there was nothing but a crater, smoke rising. The molten metal had coated the crater, causing it to shine from a distance. Fires raged on the outskirts, burning what was left. She nodded, seeing nothing was alive.

Slowly getting to her feet, she retrieved her weapons, stowing them on her person. Her grin still on her face, she turned and left.

The rebuilding of America had started.


She woke, air flooding into her lungs. Her diaphragm was spasming, causing her to cough on the air. Raising one hand, she was somewhat aware that she felt stronger. Rolling onto her side, she coughed a few times. Opening her eyes, she scanned the room.

Floor to ceiling windows, slowly rotating gears, a large desk. Perhaps she hadn't moved from Ozpin's office?

"How are you feeling?" Jane looked to see the man kneeling next to her, a concerned look upon his face.

"Peachy!" she coughed. "Felt like a bitch though. Was it supposed to hurt that much?" She slowly got to her feet, putting one foot under her.

"Unlocking one's Aura is a much different system than learning to use it yourself. It can be unpredictable. No two cases are alike." Helping her to her feet, Ozpin took a step back, letting the woman get her bearings.

"Of course it is," she grumbled. "Does this mean I can at least shrug off bullets now?" She grinned, imagining how useful that would have been.

"No. A universal truth is that when forcefully unlocked, an Aura is very weak. You need to train it to make it grow. I dare say you wouldn't be able to take a well placed punch right now," he remarked.

Jane twisted her neck, feeling the bones pop. Doing the reverse, she rolled her shoulders, doing a mental run through of her body.

"Training, got it. Any other suggestions?" she asked, bouncing slightly on her feet.

"Not particularly. As far as a semblance goes, those can't be forced. You will have to discover that yourself." Taking a sip of his coffee he wasn't surprised when she nodded.

"Nothing's ever that easy," she replied. Sighing, brought out her scroll, checking something. Liberty had sent her an update on some side projects to help her in this world. Nothing she couldn't ignore for a few hours.

"So what are you doing about Mercury?" she asked, leaning against the desk. She still felt a little weak from unlocking her apparent Aura.

"Nothing for the moment. I am having his scroll monitored and the teachers are watching him and his team. Beyond that there isn't a whole lot we can do." Jane nodded, leaning back slightly.

"He's not what he seems Ozpin, him and the rest of his team. They don't look like the other students." At his questioning look, Jane elaborated.

"It's not something you can really explain. Back in the Wasteland, when I first stumbled from the Vault, I noticed people were different. Harder, unkind. Their eyes looked focused. Those kids look the same. They've killed before."

Ozpin merely sipped his coffee.

"Regardless," he stated, pacing. "There isn't much we can do. It's merely conjecture at this point. I've got them watched, and we'll have to see. I would break too many laws by going further." Jane nodded.

Pushing herself up from the desk, she headed for the elevator.

"Thanks Ozpin. Perhaps next time there's a training accident I won't stab myself." Chortling, she let the doors close, Ozpin's bewildered face staring after her. Perhaps he didn't understand how she was joking about her almost death.

"Perhaps," she mumbled to herself, the elevator descending. "You can do nothing but laugh."


Walking down the hallway, Jane had to marvel at what this Aura felt like.

Idly trying to stab her hand with a spare knife, she grinned, seeing the pale yellow field snap into focus, about a quarter inch from her hand. It prevented the knife from stabbing, but she could still feel the force of the blade, muted somewhat.

A few deft flicks and still no damage. Although, if she pushed hard, she could feel something in her gut. An iciness, spreading slowly. This was probably her Aura running out. A good physical indicator.

With a series of flips the knife was stored in her sleeve. At the end of the hall was her room, the last door on the right hand side. To her left was the rest of her team's. Strangely they were silent, no noise coming from inside the room.

"Maybe they're at class still?" she wondered aloud. Stuffing her hands in her coat pockets, she continued. She stopped mid step, seeing something out of the ordinary.

Her door was ajar slightly.

Her hand went for the knife in her sleeve, the other slowly retrieving her gun. Treading softly she inched towards the room.

Using the edge of the knife, she pushed it open slowly. The curtains were closed, as always. Furniture was the same, nothing seemed disturbed. Glancing it over, she picked out the finer details. A corner of a rug was flipped up. There was a hastily fixed impression on the corner of her bed, a small fold presenting itself near the bottom. One drawer on her desk looked ajar, as if it had been searched.

Stepping over to the bathroom, she gently edged the door open. Inside there was a simple toilet, sink, and shower. The curtains were open, no room for anyone to hide. Slowly checking her cupboard, she saw that the basic stuff was there. Her eyes narrowed, noticing one of the rolls had been moved, the dust imprint showing.

Turning around, she paused. On the sink was a scrap of red something. Grabbing it with her knife hand, she rolled it between her fingers. It was soft, almost like velum. Organic, with several shades of red. Cautiously sniffing it, she had to agree with the smell, it was quite nice.

Putting it down, she re-entered her room. Walking over to the closet, she reached for the handle.

THUMP

She spun around, weapon aimed, finger on the trigger. Her chair had fallen backwards, striking the floor.

There was somebody in the room.

Sliding her gun into it's holster, she spun, now free hand plunging through the closet door. The cheep white wood and plastic build shattered under her strength, offering little resistance. Feeling a warm body and soft cloth, she clenched her fist, rearing back. The body was pulled through the door, the rest of the construction giving up.

Yellow and brown assaulted her vision, violet eyes wide in shock as the figure was hauled bodily into the center of the room. Her knife flashed, ready to stab down, crippling whomever decided to hide in her closet.

Right before she struck down, blade aimed for the femoral artery, she stopped.

"Yang, what the fuck are you doing in my closet?" Her eyes widened. "Ruby, are you in my bathroom?"

Her eyes flicked over to the bathroom, seeing Ruby drop down from the ceiling. Blowing a bit of her hair from her face, Jane stood up, ignoring Yang who had resorted to holding her hands up in a surrender position.

"And why, praytell, were you two in my room? Better yet, how did you get in?" she queried, stowing her knife. Retrieving her gun, she moved the chair upright before sitting down. Opening the drawer, she grabbed a small nondescript grey cloth bag, pulling it out. Inside lay weapon maintenance tools.

"Well, we were coming to drop off some stuff we bought for you! But the door was locked, so Yang picked the lock! Once we were in she started looking around and I tried to stop her but she wouldn't listen and then you came and we hid!" She gasped, finishing the sentence with the last of her air. Jane merely raised an eyebrow.

Looking over to Yang, she saw the girl was not directly looking at her, choosing to admire the floor.

"You bought some stuff?" Jane questioned, eyes sliding back over to Ruby. The young girl smiled, pointing at the closet. Drifting her attention over, she paused, comprehending the inside of the closet, conveniently on display now that the door wasn't there.

Hanging from a rod along the top were various shirts and sweaters, maybe 12 or so. The colors were muted, ranging from a few in light and dark brown to black and grey. On the floor were several pairs of footwear, ranging from combat boots to what looked like a running shoe. Visible as well were pants, in the same variety of colors.

Slowly, almost reverently, Jane walked over, memories coming to her head unbidden.

"Here."

Jane spun around, looking to see who spoke to her. A smile overtook her face, seeing it was Sarah, out of her power armor and in some off duty clothes. The well worn pants and heavy jacket suited her, blond hair tied in a messy bun making sure her sapphire eyes were on display. In her hands was a packaged, wrapped in faded paper of several sorts and string.

"What is it?" she asked, gently taking the object. She regretted running into Sarah before she could clean herself up, her clothing smelling of blood and earth.

"It's a present! Some records from a while ago guessed you were born today, so I figured you would want a gift!" replied the blonde, a genuine smile overtaking her face.

An uncomfortable lump formed in her throat. Jane found it hard to breath, let alone talk. While she was very good friends with Sarah, she hadn't told her everything about her time in the Vault. About how her father was distant at best, how she never had a birthday, never a gift. The only exception was the Vault sponsored 10th birthday, for the regular right of passage of getting a pip boy.

Gently pulling the wrapping off, Jane gasped, seeing the contents.

It was a coat. Almost comically long, it almost reached her ankles. Tough fabric, somewhat worn and dirtied, with a few patches here and there. Deep pockets lined the inside, while the sleeves were nice and thick. A high collar rose up, most likely to protect her neck.

"Try it on!" exclaimed the blond, almost jumping up and down. At her insistence, Jane, with somewhat shakey hands, unfolded the garment, looping an arm through one sleeve.

"While we were on patrol we rested in this old clothing store. I was sweeping the upstairs for any ghouls and I found that coat. It was older, hanging from a mannequin with a few bullet holes, but I figured you would like it. It's a bit better than that ratty tunnel snakes jacket, right?" Jane was only half aware of Sarah's rambling. Instead she was marveling at it's fit.

It was a little long for her tastes, although she could get used to it. The patches were haphazard, and could use a little work, but they would suffice. What she was marveling at was that Sarah had gone out of her way to figure out when her birthday was, and get a gift of sorts.

She was still rambling about something, but Jane didn't care. Stepping forward, she grabbed the blond, wrapping her up in a bone crushing hug. That silenced Sarah, who only squeaked.

"Thank you," she murmured, face pressed into her friend's shoulder.

Forcing the memory down, Jane turned to the duo, who were looking at her.

A million things came to mind. She could yell, scream, threaten them. She could thank them for the gifts, she could do any number of things right now.

It was a situation she wasn't sure how to respond to. This kindness was mostly unfamiliar to her. So instead, she stuck to her guns.

"You," Jane directed, pointing at Yang. "You broke my door. Go book a practice ring." Yang nodded, an eager grin coming to mind. Heading out of the roomYang veered towards the combat building.

Turning to Ruby, Jane looked at her.

"Thank you," she spoke, voice heavy. Ruby looked confused at her admission.

"I didn't have the greatest of childhoods," she started.

Why am I telling her this?

"Gift giving wasn't practiced, celebrations didn't happen. It was either rationed or you stole. Giving wasn't a familiar concept."

Most had it ok. It was just me that was that bad.

"I don't normally get gifts." She laughed, the sound empty and devoid of joy. "I could count on one hand the number of gifts I've received for whatever reason. Even where I came from, where there was at least one point of the year you could expect something, I never got anything."

Christmas in the wasteland was a brotherhood affair, and that was just extra food and downtime.

"This means a lot," she finished. Feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable, she pulled out her scroll, fiddling with it. She almost dropped it when Ruby rushed up and hugged her.

"You're not there anymore, you're here," the young team leader affirmed, her voice hard with conviction, muffled slightly by her coat.

"You might be weird. You might be more abrasive than usual. Half my team doesn't exactly like you, but it doesn't matter. You're not in the Wasteland, you're here in Vale."

An unfamiliar tightness filled her throat. Unable and unwilling to speak, Jane merely patted Ruby's head in thanks.


Standing in the ring in full combat gear, Jane looked at Yang. Her outfit hadn't changed, instead donning those yellow bracers with shotguns built in. Her attitude was evident, a boxer's stance exaggerating her cocky demeanor.

Conversely Jane stood with her armor on, helmet sealed, sword in one hand and pistol in another. One foot back, ready to react, but not giving anything away. In the sidelines sat the rest of the team. Ruby was cheering for Jane, while Weiss was glaring at her. Blake seemed noncommittal about the entire thing, instead reading a book.

Whatever it was it must have been interesting. She couldn't take her eyes off of it.

"You ready there tall dark and wimpy?" heckled Yang, bouncing from foot to foot, crossing an arm over and stretching it. Jane merely nodded. Above them the board was active, displaying their Aura level.

She's been training her Aura longer, so it'll require more to get her into the red. I might be able to take a few punches before I'm out. The barrel on her bracers is over the pinky finger. Maybe I can get her punches to hit but the buckshot to miss?

Ruby stood up from the bench, dramatically raising one arm.

"Begin!" she cried, slashing said appendage downwards.

Yang flung her fists behind her, twin blasts of red firing behind her, propelling the figure forwards. Jane dashed forward, leveling her gun. Seeing Yang's eyes widen before grinning, she fell to her knees, sliding beneath the airborne blond.

Firing once, the explosive dust round left the chamber. Travelling at subsonic speeds was something Jane hadn't taken into account, the result being the shot went between Yang's legs, striking the safety barrier harmlessly.

Kicking her feet up she twisted, just in time to miss another punch, shotgun blast echoing. Completing the spin, Jane slashed her sword, hitting the back of Yan's knee. Rather than collapsing like she wanted Yang used the force to propel her into a backwards spin, fists ready to land another blow directly on top of Jane.

Eyes wide beneath her mask, Jane shoved herself to the side, missing the majority of the buckshot round, a few pellets striking her foot.

On the board, her Aura dipped noticeably. Yang's was just as low, but that spoke to the damage her blade should have caused. Two or three pellets and her Aura was just as bad.

I've fought without it up until now, just don't get hit!

Aiming her pistol, she made sure to lead the target before firing twice, the twin cracks echoing.

The first shot didn't connect, instead spiraling harmlessly into the floor. The second however struck center mass, the explosive shot causing Yang to fly backwards in a somewhat uncontrolled spin.

Her Aura dipped into the yellow, showing just above 50 percent. Apparently her gun had more punch than she thought.

Already moving, she watched Yang correct her flight, landing on her feet. Preparing to dodge another flying blond, she was unprepared when instead she started firing her bracers at a distance, small red rockets aimed straight at her.

Cursing, Jane dodged the slow shots. Subsonic munitions were predictable, and that was an advantage that almost nobody had on her. She could probably slap a round out of the air if she was careful.

"You wanna play the distance game? I'm game!" shouted Jane. Slapping the gun into her holster, Jane reached below her coat, revealing her masterpiece.

It hung from a shoulder strap assembly, supported just in front of the grip, providing accuracy. The unique position made sure she could fire it one handed, while the other hand could be occupied.

Shrouded barrel, wood stock and grip, hard iron sights, an impressive belt feed going into her bag. The modified MG34 was a beast. Modified for it's true 12000 rounds per minute speed using the magic that was Dust, Jane grinned wildly at Yang's face.

*Click*

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT!

In an instant almost 400 rounds flew downrange, smaller but no less capable explosive tips striking the ground, wall, barrier and everything else, micro explosions tearing everything up. The force of the gun firing forced her back somewhat, forcing her to dig her heels in. The shockwave caused dirt and dust and debris to bounce and vibrate in a cone facing outwards from the barrel.

Yang did an admirable job of dodging, using her shotgun fists to propel her straight upwards out of the cone of death. Jane merely tracked upwards, the rounds spilling out of the barrel with the force of a fire hose.

With the original model this couldn't be done, the barrel needing to be changed after about 150 to 200 rounds for cooling. A Dust infused barrel length kept cooling issues at bay.

Yang, seeing she couldn't dodge now that there was no momentum to her flight, instead fired both fists, sending the small red rockets at Jane.

Unable to dodge due to her holding the gun up and dealing with the recoil, she could only close her eyes as the small rockets hit home. At the same time the bullet hose struck Yang, enveloping her form in small explosions.

Both simultaneous detonations obscured the fighters. Ruby stood up, a gasp escaping from her throat. Weiss who had been silent up until now was slack jawed at the rate of fire from the gun.

Blake was still reading her book.

When the dust cleared, both breathed a sigh of relief.

Yang was ok, lying on her back while breathing from exertion. Her aura was below the dueling threshold, meaning she was out. Nothing less, she was grinning. Jane was somewhat indecipherable, given her helmet. Considering she had propped herself up into a sitting position, and what sounded like laughter from her mask, she was probably ok. Her Aura meter also registered her in the red, below the threshold.

A tie.


Jane stood on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the Emerald Forest. In the distance she could see a massive floating object. Liberty had informed her this was the Vytal Stadium, where the big tournament would occur.

The concept had amused her. After a large war maybe 80 years ago the four individual kingdoms got together and spent a crap load of cash making the stadium. It hovered, it had variable environments for combat, high tech transmission capabilities.

She chuckled, thinking how Rothchild would react seeing the structure. It was being escorted by a couple of those airships, cruising slowly towards Vale. Apparently it would occupy just off shore by the docks for safety reasons.

That was another thing she had to figure out. Although, there wasn't much to it. The teams were typically 4 person groups fighting it out in combat to see who was the best. Ozpin saddling her as a proverbial 5th wheel might make the team arrangement complicated.

Sighing, she spun away from the cliff, heading back to the school. The opening round of the tournament would occur tomorrow afternoon. Team RWBY was scheduled as the 4th match of the day, so she would need to be prepared at the very least.

The rest of the team had managed to work together well enough, so she didn't seek to disturb that mechanic. Worst case she could just act as a spare. Her lower aura level didn't exactly mean she could take more than a hit or two during combat. That in turn was something of a handicap.

"Well Liberty, what do you think?" she asked, her voice directed no where in particular. From her coat pocket the scroll vibrated.

"Deep analysis suggests a terrorist attack is imminent. Likely attack will occur at the tournament itself. More data will be needed." The deep toned robot voice was muffled somewhat by the coat, causing her to chuckle.

"I suppose that's one take on the matter. Think we should get involved?" Her jovial tone faded at the end.

"Historical data suggests partaking in any future conflict will result in large collateral damage." Jane frowned.

"Shut up," she spat, eyes narrowing. Stupid AI.


I do not own RWBY or Fallout 3. All works belong to their respective creators.

A tad bit short, but we'll pick it up next chapter.