I used "Decimate" in the original definition, which is to 'destroy by a tenth'. When troop motivation was low, Roman centurions would line up their soldiers and kill every tenth man to scare them into motivation. This is the origin of the word decimate.
Two Face (the medic), has a full name starting with Hese, his whole name referencing saints and what not, not that I remember who.
The elongated hull of the Bullhead groaned under the stress of a full load, the motley crew known as Ranger company huddled around Jaune and Ren, most of them feigning interest, but all of them watched the two boy's activity with rapt attention. The hum of jets and wind filled the background.
"Go- go ahead, try again" Ren mumbled, his thumb held out on the inside of Jaune's palm.
The blond adjusted his grip on Ren's Storm Flower, and traced the blade's edge across the center of the other's thumb. A faint pink pulsing illuminated the skin, the blade unable to cut as intended. "Naw, it's not working, theoretically maybe, but I don't..."
Ren shook his head slightly, "just try again, focus. We should've been attempting this far sooner."
"All right." Shuffling in place, Jaune instead aimed the edge at his own skin, wincing as a thin red line appeared in his palm. "Ah, shit," he muttered.
"Dumbass," commented Cardin, others laughing in turn.
Closing his eyes, Jaune imagined the edge as a danger, an implement not wielded by him, a foreign object. Trying once more, the green blade ran the length of his palm, but this time, no cut emerged.
Gasps ensued, Cardin raised an impressed brow. Harumi of team BNSH stuttered, something uncharacteristic of her, "but when why that— how what?" Drawing her own sword a couple inches from it's sheathe, she ran a finger nail against the blade. A white mark showed the blade had in fact cut her, and the confusion ran deeper.
In the corner, Qrow nodded in improvement. Rapping his knuckles against the wall he leaned on, he shouted, "how you holding up Yang?" Ecstatic giggles emitted from the cockpit, a brand new pilot trainee Yang too happy to respond with words.
"Perfect," nodded Ren, "now do the opposite to me."
Returning to formation, the one boy lined the dagger against the skin of the other, and focused. Eyes closed, Jaune pictured the setup in his mind. The blade was an extension of him, and so he reached his senses out to the point of pressure against the dagger. He knew that Ren's aura was acting like a wall against the sharp edge infused with Jaune's own aura, so he pictured a pink electrical bubble as Ren's thumb, and the blade as a yellow line. Again and again in his mind, he pressed the yellow line into the bubble, but the bubble crackled quietly each time, pressing the yellow line back. Each time, Ren's thumb quivered for an instant, though Jaune never physically pressed the blade harder. Getting frustrated, the line in his mind grew in size and unsteady, ramming against the pink bubble and left the blade, similar to if Jaune had thrown a rock against a wall in anger. Except, when the line left the blade, it reshaped against the bubble and exploded.
Yellow and pink sparks shot out from the two boy's hands, prompting everyone surrounding them to jolt back in surprise. Not missing a moment, Jaune gently poked Ren's thumb, a droplet of blood accompanying a quiet "ow." Everyone watched in shock as what looked like pink static encroached on the center of his thumb a moment later, a smooth static forming not unlike several smaller bubbles reforming into one larger, single bubble.
Everyone began shouting and hollering, Jaune and Ren among them. Even Weiss laughed as she clapped, her mind blown.
"Wait wait wait waitwaitwait, Qrow!" the knight spoke rapidly, shushing his peers all the while so he could hopefully hear his elder. "Qrow! Do you know anything about this? Aura manipulation? Cutting through it, anything?"
Qrow shrugged. "First, I gotta say I'm impressed. From what I've heard, you didn't even know what aura was when you first got to Beacon, now you're learning advanced tricks."
Laughing ensued. One of the guys on the older (former Beacon) team slapping the back of Jaune's head head playfully, his bangs resetting to fall over his eyes. "Fucking Jaune" he chortled, "how'd you not know what aura was?"
Proudly chuckling through a wide grin, Jaune honestly answered "I have no idea, I never recall hearing about it before Beacon."
"It's simple really," Qrow started in his raspy voice, "aura is like a manual car. An surprising minority of people don't know what one is, the majority do. Of that majority, a fraction can use one, or use it, but only with training or help. Of that fraction, a much smaller fraction can do it well, and even fewer understand it deeply. In one case, few understand a car in its entirety to design and make one from scratch, and in the other, few understand aura enough to get certain desired effects, especially in the heat of battle."
"Can you do something like that, Qrow?" spoke up a stray girl's high pitched voice.
He shrugged again, shooting them a dirty look, "I'd have to really want to kill them. The real trick is pulling it off in a fight. Most people just can't do it."
The momentum in the ship shifted around, and before Jaune could ask more, the doors slid open and the ship turned to give them a clear jump into the fishing village's center. Following Qrow's lead, Ranger company fell down the twenty feet into mud.
The sun had just risen over the horizon, and a decimated cottage town sat surrounded by burning woods and soldiers pitching tents. Black smoke billowed above the roaring flames, the crackling of trees and vast movements of air audible for miles. Down the single street they saw a tank with a black clad trooper leaned over the hatch shouting questions, and across the street from it sat the wreckage of a Atlesian Paladin, cut open and a blood trail leading from the cockpit to behind the closest building. Continuous drop ships deployed supplies and people where ever they could, squads filing into the burning woods in all directions with frenzied urgency.
"Why are the woods on fire?" Weiss asked aloud. Flashbacks to their entrance exam where she and Ruby set a tree on fire by accident lit behind her eyes, a grin flashing across her face.
Ren cleared his throat. "They need a landing zone I believe."
"That's right kiddos," Qrow confirmed. "Cruisers will be landing tonight, and we need a space to land them and any artillery not shooting us or the ships." He began a hurried stride towards the soldiers pitching tents more inland, the former students of Beacon in tow.
"Qrow!" called out Dusk, head of second squad, "finally, you're here."
The grizzled and dirty young man lowered a clip board he was writing on, taking large steps to meet the Huntsmen while his helmet, attached by a carabiner, bounced off his hip.
"Dusk, you're setting house?" His tone blended friendly mockery and seriousness, something the soldier appreciated.
A nod. Behind him, Ruby appeared from inside a tent, catching her friends attention. They ran to her. "This is our downtime," Dusk replied, "the other squads are moving down the coast, and we have forward scout teams going inland."
"Ruby!" exclaimed the heiress, dashing into a hug with the other young girl. "I'm glad you're okay. We had honestly no idea what could've happened here!"
Nora offered a fist bump that Ruby honored around Weiss' back. "That's an odd thing to say," she scoffed, "as long as she didn't encounter another huntsmen, everything should've been smooth sailing."
"It could've gone smoother" she confessed solemnly. Frowns spread quickly, somewhat intimidating Ruby. "No, I mean, we only lost a guy, but I just wasn't... in the game."
Jaune squinted, slowly explaining, "I don't know whether or not one guy is a bad thing or an okay thing." He chuckled soon after though, "I'm sorry, I still find your sunglasses funny," he stated, pointing at her aviators, "remind me of Yang."
She shyly smiled under their gazes, rubbing a heel into the ground as she turned to the side. "I don't have to wear them now my eyes have had a chance to adjust, but... I'm kind of liking the style. Speaking of which, where's Yang?"
"She's landing a Bullhead somewhere, if she's not crashing it" half spat Weiss.
Ruby took a step back. "She's flying?"
"Yeah, scary" agreed Ren.
"Well lucky for you," Qrow sighed, "the Major in charge really doesn't trust us, so we're here to play house too. He's sort of fighting my requests," he sighed again, striking a stubborn pose.
Dusk nodded. "Well, I hope you have luck with that soon."
"Yeah." They chewed their tongues, thinking. "How'd this morning go?"
"Our jackass Paladin pilot got juicified by a tank, Atlesian yahoo. Otherwise, we only had to kill three men, the rest are quartered in that barn over there getting treated by Hese," he finished, pointing to said barn.
"Wow, how calloused," the huntsmen responded passionlessly, "got the food to feed them?"
"Don't know yet. Just know that after the next few tents, we have a shower system to raise." Dusk handed his clip board to the older man, a yellow notepad with a rough sketch of the area dotted with notes and layout instructions. "Here you go, I'll be back. Ruby! Come with me!" he shouted while strutting off.
Ruby's friends gave her a worried look, yet all she could do was shrugged with equal concern.
On the other side of the world, east of Vacuo in the midst of a White Fang settlement, inside a broken water pump shack just off the runway, Sun stepped in and handed a seated Blake a cold glass of water, condensation dripping off the side.
"Thank you" she spoke, voice hoarse.
Sun took a stool on the other side of a radio they had set up, picking up a notebook as he sat. "Batteries good?" he asked.
"Yeah, changed them last night." Static emitted from the blue walkie talkies, Blake too situating her paper on her lap.
In the last week, Blake had figured out that the antlered White Fang recruiter lady preferred to have her discussions with Roman and other 'managers' early in the morning before daily chores and training inside the top floor of the previously abandoned saloon. Believing that they might be able to discover pertinent information, they hid a two way radio behind assorted jars on a unimposing shelf, and kept the other radio in the broken water pump shack. Because of its distance from the rest of camp and how hot it would get in there, Blake and Sun were assured privacy for the early hours.
Foot steps barely registered through the radio, a female voice mumbled to itself. "I don't think she's with Roman this time," commented Sun.
Though it was a two way radio, they could talk freely without worry of the radio on the other side reproducing their sounds, as Sun had figured out how to break the circuit that received them on their shack radio. Ironically, it was easier to find a two way radio and tamper with its solders instead of finding a rubber band strong enough to hold the send button on a normal walkie talkie.
"Roman, that you?" the woman's voice came through in static.
"Yeah," returned the criminal's unique sound, doubly under the static effect.
Blake looked to Sun, whom shared beads of sweat already from the heated and cramped space. "Is he on speaker?"
Sure enough, in the top floor of the saloon, the doe lady sat at an empty table where a garish orange scroll laid expanded and on. "Where are you?" she asked, sounding annoyed.
"In town, why my darling," chirped Roman back.
"Today's agenda..."
Sun groaned. "Son of a bitch," he flipped through the previous pages in his book, scrutinizing the data he had down, "more schedule confirmations and supply logistics."
Blake shook her head in bitter agreement, "yep, nothing scandalous yet."
"Yeah, when do we find out that Roman doesn't brush his teeth?" he joked.
"Or that he picks his nose," she snarked.
"Woah there, stop the presses, notorious criminal picks his nose, heinous indeed."
Not far to the west, at the border of Vacuo walked Pyrrha and her compatriots. Step after step in the sand, they left a long and straight trial leading back to a half buried and crash landed airship, curtesy of Neptune. As they walked towards the city, the sand turned to dirt.
"I don't know which is worse," Scarlet panted, coat over his shoulder and two backpacks dragging behind him, "the fact that Neptune crashed or that he couldn't crash us closer; the heat is killing me."
Stripped similar to Scarlet behind him, Sage's coat was wrapped around his sword which sat atop of a crate he dragged along the ground. "It's not too terrible." He looked up and at the rising sun, its rays lighting up the tears of sweat on his bare torso. "Could be hotter."
"Could have more gear," groaned Pyrrha, next in marching order, her armor and cloak far too hot to even consider carrying on her body. Two heavy duffel bags filled with clothes dragged along in the sand, only a black tang top and her crimson dress bottom upon her body. She had begun considering that her dress skirt might more appropriately be called a sarong, and though normally it's wool and cotton blend would be too warm to wear in hot climates, the openness of the bottom provided enough air flow to be tolerable. This didn't stop her from regretting wearing clothes altogether however.
"Pfft," interjected Neptune who lead the pack, "at least you're not wearing jeans." His red jacket, black tie, and olive green ruck sack dangled from his polearm slung over his shoulder, his white button up shirt undone in a fashion identical to his friend's, Sun.
Scarlet thought out loud, "now, when you die from the heat, is it your body dying from heat or is it your body committing suicide?"
Neptune cackled while Sage retorted playfully, "that's a stupid freaking question. What is that even supposed to mean?"
"Well," the male redhead clarified, "maybe, in one case, you die 'cause your body cooks and is killed, and in the other, your body, it's— it's like... 'hey, I don't wanna... you know, be so hot' so it like... commits suicide to avoid the pain, you know?"
"Dehydration puts your body into shock, brain cooks, brain death," Pyrrha soberly explained, squinting to see into the distance, sun blinding her otherwise. She could see the beige desert city of Vacuo several miles away. "Hey Neptune, what does the book say?"
"Outskirts, a house with a green flag, better map, water, and a truck," Neptune answered, certain for a moment before he pulled out the book from the ruck sack, then confirmed what he said. "We're looking for a house and garage with a green flag. Should be one of the first houses if we're approaching from the right direction. It says we might meet someone, not guaranteed though."
On and on they walked, though only twenty minutes had passed when they stumbled upon the exact house they were looking for, though calling it a house was generous. An RV stood chained to a lonely tree, a converted dune buggy with a truck bed beside it. More trailers dotted the dirt plains towards Vacuo, this trailer remaining the farthest away.
"I'll look inside for supplies," offered Pyrrha, letting go of her gear and entering the RV before anyone could object. Inside was empty, with only a folded map and a case of water bottles sitting on cheap countertops. Tearing a hole in the case, Pyrrha downed a water bottle and set the plastic bottle in the sink. Sated, she took both items and headed back outside. "Got the map," she said.
"Who's driving," asked Scarlet, throwing his backpacks in the back along with Sage's crate and giant sword.
Pyrrha and Sage stared at Neptune. It took a moment for him to realize their gazes. "No," he moaned, "I just finished flying, I'm still shaking from the crash landing I had to do."
"Oh! I'll drive," the swashbuckler volunteered.
A moment of silence passed where the other three traded questionable looks. They finally all echoed "sure."
"Sweet!"
The truck essentially amounted to a body frame with a roll cage and running board that had a truck bed mounted on, with the necessary components of seats, suspension, engine, wheels and steering. No windshield, doors, belt buckles, or car body save the floor were to be had. With it, Neptune and Pyrrha sat in the back seat, Neptune tying his jacket, tie, and ruck sack to the roll cage bars above him, providing him a modicum of shade. Pyrrha secured one duffel likewise with its own straps, and stuffed the other one under the seat. He laid his polearm across his lap while Pyrrha kept only her diphos, Milo. To keep the suspension balanced, Sage kept his sword in back with Scarlet's packs, several strapped down cans of gas, and sand tires, and just threw his coat around the bars.
Bouncing with excitement, the palest of the boys found the keys under his rear, and shoved the brass shiv into the steering column, the engine roaring to life.
Pulling out a compass and grabbing the map from Pyrrha's hands, Neptune stated, "from what I can tell, we can follow a road east from Vacuo to the next supply stop a ways from here. So uhm..." he examined the map more deeply, continuing, "yeah, just drive towards Vacuo, go around the right side, counter clockwise, and I'll tell you when we hit the right road."
"Right, here we go!" Scarlet slammed his foot down on the gas, spinning all four wheels in place before the buggy eventually rocketed off, its driver shouting in glee all the way.
Neptune gave a side glance to Pyrrha. "At least it's an automatic. He's never driven before!"
She propped her foot against the door frame, a slight bump throwing her up higher than she liked. "Say, Neptune, aren't you afraid of water?" she asked, feeling the question a little awkward and so looked away to avoid her own embarrassment.
He grimaced, "Yeah, why?" now nibbling at his lip.
"I was just thinking... not only were you flying for the first time, something we were all admittedly freaked out by, but... you flew us over the ocean too. I think I understand why you were so panicked from start to finish. It is a phobia, right?"
Rubbing his nose, he agreed, "of the water? Yes."
"I have a new found respect for you, good work."
As she was still looking away, he couldn't see her eyes darting around wildly, awkwardly. "Problem is, praise from you is hard to take at face value. I can't tell if you're being nice or if you mean it."
She flashed a smile towards him. "Why can't it be both?" Letting the moment sink in and watching the city in the distance grow slightly closer, she continued, with caution, "were you always afraid of the water?"
This time, he rubbed his gloved hands together, the abrasive sound blending in with Scarlet's arbitrary braking and skidding. "Nope. I use to swim."
"What happened?" Pyrrha asked the obvious.
"Almost drowned. Twice." He emphasized the second statement and held up two fingers, chuckling at the memories. A long sigh. Hunching over, he explained, "first time, I was in the shallow waters of a beach by Mistral, alone, like an idiot. I lost my floaty, and got too tired to swim. When I sank to the bottom, I barely managed to grab a stick and pushed myself up to air. I got closer to shore, but the tide came in and messed me up, almost drowned, blacked out, some guy pulled me out. When I was enrolled into a combat school, that incident was the reason I made a polearm, plus always carrying a pair of goggles," he said while tapping the yellow lens on his head. "Then, a second time, during training I was knocked into a lake. My trident shocked me and I went stiff, swallowed a lot of water. Sun pulled me out that time."
"Gave him CPR too!" laughed Scarlet.
Neptune shook his head sideways, smiling. "Nope. That was the teacher. She kissed me. Didn't regret that part at all."
"Sorry." Pyrrha frowned, looking away again.
"Really the only part I regret though is the phobia. I owe my friendships and personal style to it all, but I just wish I wasn't so vulnerable to the fear..."
Dusk marched to the hill top where he waited for Ruby to catch up. Once there, she noticed the sharpshooter Fang sitting in the large oak next to where Dusk stood. "You wanted to talk to me sir?" she asked, approaching his back.
Suddenly, he turned and stared down at Ruby, his features tense. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he held back his voice, but Ruby could feel his heat.
"Sir?" she squeaked, shocked. She glanced to Fang, but he kept vigilant watch with a pair of binoculars, scanning the burning forests and its roaring flames.
"I saw you tear through men when the military and Beacon made the joint attack on that hidden base, I saw you tear through students in two tournaments, I read the papers when you took out that fox spy kid," he raged quickly and quietly, gaze beating on Ruby. "I trust Ozpin and I trusted you," his finger jabbed at her collar bone. "I chose you. They gave us the option to take you, and I did, because unlike some of the others, I don't believe the bullshit they're spewing about you guys."
He stepped back, turned around and started pacing. He went on, "long story short, I know you are a fighter in a league beyond most of us, yet somehow, somehow," he repeated, "you froze up in your first deployment. Completely." He threw his hands into the air, "why?"
Only now did Ruby really pay attention to his face, his rugged features sharp, reminiscent to a younger Qrow were his jawline slightly wider. Because of that, his angry glare held that much more menace and weight, and for once, Ruby felt inexplicably ashamed of her petite frame, dwarfed in demeanor by this man. Worse still, she couldn't give him an answer. While she knew how she felt, and some underlying reasons for it, she couldn't give him an answer that would satisfy him, to explain why she acted how she did. She was trapped.
Silence ensued, and Ruby focused on the grass at her feet, thankful that her sunglasses could hide her just a little. Dusk let out a frustrated sigh.
"Is there something I should know?" He spoke calmly now, a hand held a waist level in an offering gesture, "is there something we don't know that will help this? Because, I can't have someone risk my men in the next fight because we need to babysit them while completing the mission. Could you at least provide cover fire, or at least use your speed to scout? I thought I understood what you meant when you told me," he said, pointing to himself then to her lower half, "you told me you weren't going to be able to use your scythe."
She jolted, ever so faintly but she did. Though she didn't carry her red hood, her silver rose, her various pouches and bandoliers, and instead wore the standard grey cargo pants and black tank top, she still carried her Crescent Rose on her hip along her military issued folded sniper rifle.
"I interpreted it as you taking mercy on your fellow man, that you wouldn't be able to use it to the best of your abilities against people you know are just fighting for their kingdom. I didn't realize you had got broken somewhere in the assembly lines."
She stepped forward. "You're right sir. Before I got to you, I saw things no one should've ever scene. Perhaps I sound over dramatic, but, there are people would say differently, that is if the dead could talk."
"I understand that but—"
"But, sir, I'm sorry." She looked up, but not at him, and remained quiet. "I never intended to put your soldiers in harm, you even lost the man from Atlas, and I may have been able to help were I not helpless. But, I can only hope I do my part better next time. I'm sorry."
"Okay." Dusk scratched his stubble, easing up as he did so. "You're dismissed."
"But I feel I should warn you sir," Ruby added, pulling off her glasses to look him in the eye, "there are things we don't know about hiding in the dark, and there are a lot of woods in between here and Mistral. You need to make sure you keep a look out as much as I am, for you and for your men."
"Huh," Dusk huffed, "interesting."
She raised a brow. "Well, I guess that's a way of describing it—"
"No," he said, "well, that too, but, I always heard you had silver eyes."
"And?"
"Well I'm just now seeing that they're not."
Ruby paused. "What?"
"Up close, they're not silver. Maybe grey blue, but... no, actually, just very blue, if a little light."
She pawed at her new eye. "Did they give me a blue eye?"
"Technically yes, but so is the other one. I don't get why you're surprised though."
"No, it should be silver," Ruby argued, voice rising.
Dusk turned to the tree, shouting, "Fang! Look here, what color is her eyes?"
The man in the tree craned his head, binoculars pressed against his face still. An aged voice called back, "sky blue el capitan."
Now unnerved, Ruby bolted from the hill top, and ran for the house by the water. She ran past her friends who were ready with questions, and as she touched upon her semblance for more speed, her new eye ached vaguely. Bursting through the door, she stumbled her way into a bathroom where she looked in a mirror for the first time since before everything started over a month ago.
She was confronted by a stranger with sky blue eyes.
"What do you mean we have a food problem?" Roman scoffed.
The criminal and his partner, Neo, sat on either side of a glass table located on the roof of a building in Vacuo city. Peering over the ledge, Roman could see the busy streets packed with people flow like crossing tides, loud and cacophonous. Roman enjoyed that kind of scene. In the shade of their umbrella, they drank their coffee, at bliss with the weather.
Perry, dressed in regular clothes with his round glasses being his only constant feature, looked over to Roman from by the other corner of the roof. "Food problem?"
"Yes, eventually at least," crackled a female voice from his scroll, on speaker and on the table.
"That's new," commented Sun, Blake and him still listening to the doe lady's scroll conversation. "It'd suck to starve."
Blake shrugged. "I don't we'll have to worry too much." She wasn't concerned.
"Yes, I ran some numbers," the doe lady elucidated, "we have roughly a tenth more people recruited than expected, the next shipment is not going to be enough to keep everyone happy."
Roman smiled at Neo, sipping his coffee. "No problems Estavas, only solutions. What do you have in mind?"
Neither party listening in could see the lady rub her brow as she listed her ideas, "well, a, you could steal some from the local farms, b, we could send some of our misfits to work in town, earn some money and food while they're at it, split the difference, or..."
"Or?" asked the ginger.
The lady remained silent for another long moment. "eh, longer term, but, starting our own farms. It's not going to help us at the moment, so we'll talk about it later."
Sun laughed. Blake raised a brow. "What?"
He turned a little red, and went somewhat giggly. "I was just thinking, that wouldn't be too bad. I just imagined you in a straw hat, overalls, nothing underneath. Nice picture." It was her turn to blush.
"I like the 'me stealing stuff' plan, sounds fun!" Roman chirped.
"Or we could do both."
"That too. I don't care who you send, but you know that one ugly guy in camp?"
"Timothy, Thomas, something like that, the one without a neck?"
"Yeah, him, get him out, I think he makes Neo uncomfortable." Neo playfully scowled at her partner. "And I'm not saying it's not possible that he might possibly make me uncomfortable too. Just saying. Though, I guess that's what you get when you're raised in a barn."
Perry, the doe lady, Sun, and Blake responded in unison with a mild "wow."
"Speaking of which," continued the lady, "is your babysitter with you? The tall, dark, and scary one? How does he wear all that black..."
"Nope!"
"Great, that means he's here. Probably with the new people Salem sent last night then."
Sun and Blake looked to each other. Puzzled, the black haired faunus asked, "what shipment of people came in recently? Who's Salem?"
Flipping through several pages of notes, Sun replied with uncertainty, "I don't know, I think we missed a conversation."
"Any one I have to worry about? I know they sent down Geppetto's project, any converts too?" Roman spoke, unease audible.
"A couple, but there are some mercenaries too. One told me to tell you that Jack sends his regards. Anyways, Salem told me to start choosing loyal white fang members as candidates to send north. I asked if I could go, I'm thinking I'm pretty loyal, and I'd get to see what our home base looks like, but she said to keep doing good work down here. Know what that's about?" she explained in monotone.
"Well you're doing such a good job, obviously my dear." As per usual for the man, sincerity did not come clean, and what he said walked a fine line between mockery and shallow flattery. "Besides, you can't convert the converted."
"Why won't you ever tell me what it's like up there?"
"I shan't think of my memories there," Roman hollered theatrically, "the room service put my whites in with a dark load. Simply dreadful!"
"Trying to get a straight answer out of you is like trying to get Neo to talk," she mumbled.
"Tsk tsk tsk," he sounded, "don't be rude Estavas."
"Did you get all of that?" Blake implored her lucrative friend.
"Geppett something project, candidates for conversion, Salem, and a definite home base?" he listed off from his notebook.
She looked over her own scrawls, then asked, "are you sure conversion is really anything important? That's the whole point of recruiting."
"No, you see," he started, leaning forward, "Estavas said that this Salem person asked for candidates for something conversion related, but they have to be loyal to the cause already, so I'm thinking there's more to it."
"Like what? A group of extreme extremists?" she thought skeptically, a typical reaction that Sun had been long use to.
"Maybe, maybe a private force, maybe elite training?" he postulated, hand twirling upwards.
"It just proves we're on to something though," extrapolated Blake. "This is the first time we're hearing about these things, and..." she thought for a moment, "Roman avoided questions about the... White Fang HQ I guess? He's hiding information from her, and I feel that we might not get much deeper listening to her."
"But wait," he retorted, "maybe we could get lucky, what if he decides to explain things to her, and by proxy, extension, us?"
"The tall man in black though..."
"Maybe he's a convert? Or someone from HQ if he's babysitting Roman as she says."
"No, I was going to say..." she paused, the weight of the situation eking up on her, "we don't know his name, she doesn't either, and for all we know, neither does Roman. I haven't heard him talk once since we first saw him. He scares me honestly, and something makes me think there's a pact of secrecy here."
"Neo doesn't talk though," Sun argued, "I mean, she's a mute, I think," he added off hand, "what if he's the same?"
Blake tapped at her jaw. "I'm thinking Sun, that we need to kidnap a pilot," she said, looking him in the eye at the last word.
"What? Wait, oh..." It dawned on Sun.
"We have coordinates of whenever they set up air ship... shipments, air traffic lanes, times, but whenever something comes from the north, Estavas never mentions anything specific—"
"Probably because she doesn't know—"
"Exactly," agreed Blake with an unusual amount of excitement, "she is informed of the flights, but she never arranges them. So, they must be using pilots from HQ who know the flight path—"
Sun's face went from ecstatic revelation to sudden dejectedness, adding, "which means they trust them enough with that information, they must be 'loyal' enough," he said with air quotes, "that they don't fear too much them falling into enemy hands... maybe. And if they're anything like Roman's babysitter..." he stopped there, shrugging with a fatalistic attitude.
"Shit."
"Yeah."
"If we want to know where their HQ is, we'll have to go with their consent."
"Or torture a pilot," theorized Sun. Blake nodded in somber concurrence.
"Hey Roman!" Perry shouted, a monocle lifted to his eye. He was scanning the eastern plains of Vacuo when he noticed a buggy bouncing along, a flare of red piquing his interest. "Come look at this."
Roman excused himself from the table, bowing to Neo as he did so, "one second dear."
"What are—" the scroll barked, but was cut off.
"I wasn't talking to you Estavas. Perry, what's up?"
He handed the monocle to Roman. "Call me crazy, but that looks like Pyrrha Nikos right? It can't be good if she's here, right?"
Roman groaned. "Call me crazy, but I agree." He followed a long dust trail with the scope to a stripped jeep truck springing along a road outside of the city limits. There was a red head driving it, and a blue haired passenger behind him, but it was what was hidden behind the blue haired passenger that put a pit in Roman's stomach. Flowing red hair trailed in the wind, crimson clothing peaking through, and that hefty upper body stature Roman respected. "Probably."
"We should tell them, right?"
A long sigh. "Probably."
Striding back to the glass table, Roman picked up his scroll, turned off the speaker, and spoke directly into it, voice void of its usual jaunt. "Estavas, we have a high priority target plus three non descripts, east bound by truck, Roman out." He closed his scroll, stuffing it into the only pocket of his thin, white, button up shirt.
Perry approached slowly, curious, "why didn't you tell her it was Pyrrha Nikos."
For a moment, Roman had the look of a very tired man before turning to his underling and shrugging. "It would be embarrassing if I was wrong, now wouldn't it?"
"High priority target?" Blake repeated. Her and Sun returned to their attentive listening, but were quickly disappointed.
The doe lady picked up her scroll and dialed a number, but left the room as she did so, leaving the two eavesdroppers deaf to her intentions.
Before they knew it, the sounds of a airship revving up filled the air. Being in the shack near the air strip, they could look out a small window and see handful of people boarding a ship.
"No flights are scheduled for the morning," Sun pointed out.
"I guess it can't hurt to ask them what's going on." Slapping her now freshly healed leg, Blake got up from her seat and headed for the door.
"What if it's a pursuit team for the target person," Sun inquired, worried.
She shrugged, "it should still be safe to ask why the sudden flight. They don't know we know."
Stepping outside, the dry desert air was far cooler than the humid smog inside the shack, and it relieved the faunus girl greatly. Jogging towards the active ship, she could make out an interesting line up of people hiking up the ramp. First, there were three faunus in what appeared to be a version of the White Fang uniform that included sleeves and a lot less white accents and a full mask. Second, she recognized the wolf faunus that arrived with Roman was aboard, but now had a large sword across his back. And lastly, a womanly figure in a tan poncho and straw hat whom she had never seen before.
She yelled to them something she thought safe, "hey! There's no scheduled flights for the next twelve hours!"
However, the moment she opened her mouth, Blake's lamented every decision leading up to her doing this. The woman in the poncho turned to look at her, sunglasses covering her face, though Blake could make out orange hair in a pony tail. As the ship began to lift off and retract its ramp, the poncho lady opted to leave the ship and walked off, falling several feet but never breaking her new stride.
Blake began to recognize her. She was the woman Ren and Blake encountered in the penthouse in Atlas. They ran from her, and Ren had to fight off four assailants while Blake herself avoided confrontation altogether. Not this time apparently. The woman pulled a knife from behind her back and charged.
"You bitch!" she screamed, now dashing, poncho fluttering behind her.
Blake touched her face; mask-less. It wasn't too unusual to do in camp, especially with the heat, but without it, this woman apparently took no time at all to identify Blake.
She reached behind her back out of habit, but felt, besides dread, a distinct lack of her weapon. It was still wrapped up and under her personal sleeping bag.
By late dinner time, Ruby was just barely getting over the shock of her eyes. As she sat at the table, surrounded by her squad, she pondered how she would approach her friends about this mystifying occurrence. How did it happen, why, when exactly, and what did it mean, these thoughts running on loop in her mind while she stared at a bowl of stew.
Inside one of the cottages, squads two and three gathered for a well earned meal, the secondary landing party finishing their work for them outside. Jaune and the others were outside too, though Ruby forgot what their tasks were. The soldiers around her sat down and ate and bantered, seemingly ignorant to all the troubles in the world, perfectly able to set aside some time to empty their heads.
Why couldn't she do that anymore?
Grimm, psychos, malevolent conspirators, she knew she knew about these things before, and could sleep soundly. Now, bags hung below her eyes for the nightmares she had each night.
Cat and Cry sat on either side of her, loud and lively, setting their helmets on their laps. "Hey, Isaac," the brunette woman smiled, "what stinks?"
Cry whipped his spoon out to point in her direction, "hey! I stepped in shit, it's not me, fight me." They shared a laugh.
But what about these brother and sisters in arms, thought Ruby. In some ways, they had more to be fearful of. They may have been talented, granted, but unlike Ruby, they were more bound by reality in a fight, more in danger of stray fire, overwhelming numbers of Grimm, and general obstacles. Yet still they could laugh on the front lines of their deaths. They would sleep soundly.
Cry started a short story, "when I was ten, my cat pissed in my pant's drawer—"
"Cat pissed in your drawers?" Dusk grinned, getting laughs from all around. Cat threw a dirtied rag at him, then playfully sneered at him.
"No, ha, my cat, little bastard, pissed on all my pants. My Mom said that no one would notice, but that's only because I later found out that she was nose blind."
"Ah shit," said someone through a mouthful of stew.
"Yeah, when I went to school the next day, damn son... no one let me live that down, I smelled almost as bad as Roy here," Cry finished, pointing at the man who owned the 'X' helmet. Everyone jeered once more and conversations resumed.
Ruby smiled too. She couldn't blame Dusk for his anger towards her from earlier, for whenever she watched them interact, she remembered that they're family to each other like how her team and Jaune's group was to each other. Only now, she didn't even know where Blake or Pyrrha were.
Thinking back, the classroom settings of Beacon felt childish and fake, and the natural chemistry between these soldiers conflicted greatly of what Ruby remembered different students sharing in school. Aside from her and her friends, the hunters academy kept youngsters meant for advanced combat and gave them a safe playground to practice their skills, let them stick in teams to have an easier time, and left them to their own devices. The end result, as far as she could tell, was a disheartening number of well trained children who were still unprepared for the worse, scared and undisciplined. Many couldn't even get along with each other, bullying like what Cardin did only stopped because Yatsuhashi put him in his place some rainy afternoon.
Ruby felt like that setting never made sense. Like they didn't belong, but that feeling, oddly enough, was absent now.
She had seen many bad things, done similar, and still had to sit in class lectures with immature teenagers. Now she sat with adults, willing to kill, willing to die, and willing to laugh it off when it's over. They fought together, teamwork their greatest asset. An odd sense of comfort overcame her.
Maybe she wasn't one of them, but the more she thought about it, the more willing Ruby felt to fight. If she could help them, maybe it would ease her mind.
"You going to eat that?" Dusk asked her, gesturing to her untouched dinner. As he finished speaking, his head jerked to face the door behind Ruby, eyes sharp. Cry and Cat both noticed. Their hands felt for their helmets.
Ruby instead noticed the medic speak from across the noisy table, "you really should, you're still looking too thin to be healthy."
The youngest of the bunch, the one known as Smiley, turned to Roy and muttered, "you know he likes 'em 'healthy', those blood pressure readings really get him hot and bothered."
"Well I guess you could say," Roy returned, "that it gets his blood boiling."
"Pfft, that was bad—"
The door behind Ruby opened with the subtlest of creaks, but it was more than enough to silence everybody. An arm reached in, setting down a larger brown paper bag by the door before closing once more. Ticking could be heard.
In an instant, half the people in the room shoved on their helmets while Ruby turned to look at what everyone else was wide eyed at. In tandem, Cry and Cat wrapped their bodies around the rose and threw themselves under the table.
Two explosions sounded like one, and the room was redecorated in a flash of light.
-End Chapter 6-
Hey, I'ma writing! After the last chapter, I started early on this one, taking a little time each day to write section by section, so, I hope it didn't feel like it took too long.
Whatever you do, for the love of god, DON'T tell me in the review what you think about the chapter length or bouncing perspectives, or your general opinions about the story, or if you're looking forward to a combat heavy chapter next, or anything like that, (they'll never see through my reverse psychology, fwah hahahahaha!)
And whatever you do, don't even think about favoriting or following, I mean, I'm trash, you're better off reading 50 shades of gray, especially if you're into that sort of thing. Butt plugs for days.
Also, I just realized that I can finally italicize words now because I have OpenOffice, too late for this chapter though.