This Easter holiday has been too short...

"Make up your mind that no matter what comes your way, no matter how difficult, no matter how unfair, you will do more than just survive. You will thrive in spite of it"

Joel Osteen

Chapter Fifteen—Tapping the Transmissions

God, Phil was bored.

Oh sure, he knew the work he was doing was of the utmost importance. Vital to the survival of Beta section. Essential to their recover blah blah blah. But that didn't make sitting around a transmitter all day listening to nonsensical conversations fun. Add to that the fact that somehow, despite the paramount nature of the task, it seemed that the others had left only him and Naomi to complete it, and one could excuse Phil for feeling a little restless.

Phil worked the chink out of his neck as he listened to yet another semi-intelligible transmission. "Opposition proving harder to overcome than previously expected," went the voice on the radio. "Intelligence believed to be faulty. Repeat, intelligence is faulty. Relay to Black Bishop, over."

"Wilco," came the reply. "Continue to move on objective until new orders are received. Over and out."

Phil sighed and lowered the creased notebook he'd salvaged from Beta section's supplies as the transmission ended, rubbing his aching temples. Looked like today was going to be more guess work about obscure words' meaning. Just like yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that…

He turned to his companion. "Just once I'd like a nice, easy to understand transmission with clear coordinates of where they are, y'know? None of this codeword BS."

"Yeah," mumbled Naomi, staring through her notebook.

And then there was the other issue.

Phil's stomach twisted at the sight of the dejected Naomi, and his joke curdled under the sombre view. After what had happened to Buzz… Naomi wasn't the same. No one could have expected her to be alright, but those first few days after Jaune had brought them all together and given them a real plan to aim towards, when she'd had something meaningful to do, for a short while it had looked like she was back to normal. But then came the monotonous work, and with that all the time in the world to dwell on unpleasant thoughts. And little by little, day by day, she had closed in further and further. She was still better than she had been immediately after her brother's death at the hands of a Beowolf, but the dark cloud that had smothered and burdened her was slowly creeping back in.

And Phil had no idea what to do about it.

"So, um… this mysterious Black Bishop was mentioned again," he said, hoping to distract her from whatever was eating her up. "Any ideas who that is?"

"Someone important." Naomi didn't elaborate.

Phil sat there for a moment, squirming in the uncomfortable silence. Naomi barely even seemed to notice, simply staring off into the floor expressionless.

Damnit, this couldn't go on. Phil had almost watched his friend disappear into herself entirely only a few days ago. He couldn't let that happen again. He had to say something. But what? What did you say to someone who had gone through what Naomi had? How could words ever make it better? If he said the wrong thing, he might even make it worse. Did he risk screwing up? Or did he wait a little longer, just to see if something might change in her.

Phil sat back, wringing his hands in his lap. It was a nervous tick he had. He'd had it as a kid and had never really gotten over it. Bea had used to scold him for it. Ralph had used to tell him it was a sign of weakness, and that he shouldn't reveal his feelings to his opponent so easily. God, those two had been like his surrogate mother and father, right down to the petty arguments they'd had about anything and everything. He supposed that meant their last argument had been the divorce. The day Bea had pushed too far. The day Ralph had run on them. The day he'd done nothing, too fearful of the consequences.

The day he'd waited.

Waited, and lost everything because of it.

How many times had he looked back on that day and wondered how things might have gone differently if only he'd acted. If only he'd said something. Sure, it might have been the wrong thing, and it might not have solved anything, but it couldn't have made things any worse than they'd ended up. At least there would have been a chance, however slim, that he'd have said the right thing. That he'd have saved the family he'd had. Hadn't that been worth the risk?

Wasn't it worth the risk now?

He didn't know what would happen to Naomi if he did nothing. But he also hadn't known what would have happened to his team all those years ago. And now, here he was again, faced with the decision to do something, or to wait. Could he risk losing another family? Could he afford to wait this time?

The answer, he realised, was a resounding no.

Phil opened his mouth, took in a breath, paused, thought for a second, realised he looked like a fish, quickly shut his mouth and exhaled silently. What to say, what to say, what to say? Phil racked his brain for something, anything, to give to Naomi. But his mind came up only blank. He wasn't good at this sort of thing. Never had been. He didn't have the foggiest clue what he was supposed to say in this sort of situation.

What would his team have said?

Ralph would have said something gruff, probably about getting up and moving on, maybe with a fight thrown in somewhere to take her mind off things. That… honestly seemed a little too insensitive to say to Naomi at that moment. And tackling this problem fists first really wasn't his style. Bea would have probably tried to reason with Naomi to get her back on her feet. Phil doubted he'd be able to mimic that though. What arguments was he even supposed to use? But Opal… his partner would have just said something kind. Comforting. Something straight from the heart. Was that what Naomi needed to hear?

"Naomi…" he began uncertainly, "you know that… I mean, you're not to blame… what I'm trying to say is… Buzz loved you," he finally settled on. "He really loved you."

Naomi drew in a shuddering breath, the first time her true emotions had broken through her numb exterior. When she next spoke, her voice was small and fragile, so hopelessly different to the intelligent woman she'd been that it cracked his heart. "That's the thing. I'm not sure if that's true anymore."

Phil started. "Of course he loved you. Why would you not think that? He gave his life to protect yours. How is that not love?"

"I stifled him, Phil," she confided meekly, still unable to look at him. "I controlled everything he did, everywhere he went. I wouldn't allow him to do anything he wanted to do unless I deemed it was safe, or unless I could be there as well. I thought he didn't mind my protection. But then… that day, at the Atlas outpost… I didn't want him to infiltrate the base. Even though he desperately wanted to, I wouldn't have let him if it wasn't for Aiden advising me to. But when he did it, he did even better than I could have ever imagined. It made me start to wonder. What other stuff have I stopped him from doing which he would have been good at? Which he would have wanted to do?

"And then I almost get myself eaten by a Beowolf and force him to sacrifice himself. Even to the end I controlled his life. I can't help but wonder if, by the end, he began to hate me for that. Or if he should have." Naomi finally looked up at him, her brown eyes glistening. "I wasn't a good sister, was I?"

And Phil, like a stupid idiot, just stared.

He couldn't reply. How could he? Anything he said would come out hollow and meaningless. There was no way he could know what she was feeling. Sure, he'd had a sibling, and he'd lost her as well. But at least she was still alive. Still breathing. Not like Buzz. And even if she hadn't been, their relationship had been completely different. Bea had always been the stronger one. She'd been the leader, and he just the follower. Phil was nothing like Naomi. If anything, Bea had been more like Naomi than him. Actually, the two were incredibly similar now that he thought about it. But there was no way Phil could empathise with Naomi, because he'd never been like her. He'd been like… like…

Like Buzz.

And suddenly, Phil knew what to say. "I had a sister, y'know," he told Naomi. "A twin actually. Bea. She was like you. Clever, brave, protective. She used to look after me too. After we left Beacon, she and I stuck together. We were all we had left of our team."

"What happened?" enquired Naomi, and peeking through the grime of depression, Phil thought he recognised a glimmer of the woman he knew; the one who's thirst for knowledge was unquenchable. Phil knew he'd have to keep talking, even as it tore him apart to do so. But for Naomi, he would.

"We moved around from place to place, looking for a job. Neither of us wanted to become Huntsmen after… well… after what happened with our team. For a while we were ok. But Bea always wanted more. In the end, she wanted too much from me.

"One day she went to the Atlas embassy looking for a job there. She came back and told me she would be joining the Atlas military. No. That we would be joining the Atlas military," Phil corrected, recalling that hated day.

"Why was that a bad thing?" Naomi asked.

"The general of Atlas, General Ironwood, was the reason Ralph ran away. Why Opal never forgave me. If he hadn't gotten involved, maybe I'd still be with my team. Apparently, Bea forgave him for that. But I never did. When she told me that we would be working under him, I just… exploded." Phil closed his eyes as the wave of remembrance broke on him, dragging back to the surface all the raw, savage emotion that had sat festering like a poisoned broth inside of him until that day. "It was 22 years in the making. But suddenly everything she'd ever made me do, every quirk of hers that I had ignored for years, every time she'd told me to do this, that or the other it just… came out. I shouted at her. Said things I shouldn't have. I think a part of me still blamed her for pushing Ralph so far that he ran from us. The next day she left for Atlas, and I stayed in Vale. I even went and joined the Valesian military as a combat engineer just out of spite." He chuckled bitterly, but he felt more like crying. "I haven't spoken to her since."

"Your… your sister is on the other side of this war." Naomi realised. Phil nodded, suddenly feeling the need to spit the acrid, bitter taste out his mouth. It was a fact he had long known about, and had ignored for just as long. "How long ago was this?"

"Two years."

Silence. And then, "Why? Why tell me this?" Naomi asked.

"So you know that however bad you think things were between you and Buzz, they were tenfold worse between me and my sister. But despite all that… I loved her. I still do." Phil admitted. "Even back when I felt stifled by her, I only ever hated her actions, never her. No matter what might have happened between you and Buzz, I know one thing for sure. You loved Buzz. And Buzz loved you. Just… remember that. No matter where you go, or what you do. Buzz would of wanted that."

Naomi didn't move for several seconds. For a moment, Phil wondered if she'd even heard him. But then she said, "Would have."

"What?"

"What Buzz would have wanted. Not 'would of'." A small smile played at the corners of Naomi's lips, and Phil grinned in return. "Thank you, Phil. I know I haven't been myself lately. It's hard, but… you've put at least one fear to rest today. Thank you for that. You're a good friend."

"Ah, don't mention it," said Phil, blushing slightly. "You'd have done the same for me."

"Come on then," said Naomi, uncoiling herself from where she had been sitting and moving over to Phil. "Let's see what we can infer from the notes we've made. I've got a couple of theories about this Black Bishop."

Phil smiled again and felt his heart melding itself back together at the sight. What Naomi had been through… maybe she'd never be the same again. Maybe she'd never be able to fully shed herself of that weight. But Phil had recovered from what had happened between his team, even if it still stung sometimes. And maybe, just maybe, with a little bit of help, Naomi would come as close to a recovery as she could.

And Phil decided then, that he'd be there every step of the way along the road to Naomi's recovery. For his friend.

But just then, Jaune entered the tent. "Hey Jaune," greeted Phil. "You need something?"

"Um, hi guys. I was actually wondering if… well, I've just had this idea and, uh…" Jaune trailed off, blushing. Phil cocked his head, curious as to what was making Jaune so uncomfortable. "Could you come outside actually, Phil?"

"Me? Uh, sure. So long as you're okay holding the fort here, Naomi."

"I'll be alright," she confirmed. "Go get them, Lightning."

"You got it, Nuke," he grinned back.

"You want me to train you?" queried Phil. Jaune shuffled on his feet awkwardly.

"If you can. I just figured… if we get into another fight, it might be better if I have, more… training, you know," Jaune finished lamely. The idea had actually come to him the night before as he'd sat on watch, his back propped against a tree. He'd been thinking about Beacon and trying to figure out what he'd say to his team if he ever got back to them. Something along the lines of I was a spineless idiot who didn't deserve to be leader and I'm desperately sorry for screwing up so bad, followed by a plethora of apologies and an undignified beg for forgiveness. But try as he might, nothing had sounded right. Nothing had been able to convey just how sorry he was, and how deeply he wanted his friends back.

Frustrated by his shortcomings, Jaune had cast his mind back to that night on the roof of the Beacon dorms. How Pyrrha had seen him struggling and had offered to train him. He'd thought of how much that training might have helped him, had he not been so pig-headed and turned her down.

And then he'd remembered that Phil had graduated Beacon, and a somewhat mortifying idea had popped into his head. What if he asked Phil to train him in combat? It would certainly be beneficial to have the extra guidance if they were ever attacked again. And seeing as they'd be here until they were able to decode the Atlas transmissions, Jaune had realised now was a better time than any to ask for help.

So here he was, except strangely enough, this was somehow managing to be even more embarrassing than how he'd envisioned it.

"I don't know much about swords and shields," admitted Phil. "I'm not sure if I could teach you much about them. Or, y'know, anything about them really."

"Just the hand to hand stuff then," clarified Jaune. "Every little helps, right?"

Phil considered Jaune's preposition, before shrugging. "Alright. Why not."

"Thanks Phil," said Jaune, relaxing. It hadn't been easy to ask for help. Even now it felt like accepting that he wasn't good enough. But considering where not asking for help before had led to… his pride could go stuff itself. He had more important things to be getting on with. "I really appreciate this. I think we shou—wait, what are you doing?"

Phil looked up from where he'd been in the process of lowering his yellow weapon, Aeron Wasp, to the ground. "Getting ready to fight."

"Wait, now?"

"Why not? You got anything better to be doing?"

"No, it's just… well, aren't you going to teach me some moves first?"

Phil shrugged. "Ralph's the one who taught me to fight hand to hand. His psychology was the fastest way to learn is to do so on the fly. Spur of the moment. That kind of thing. I figured I'd teach you the way he taught me." Phil suddenly stopped what he was doing and looked at Jaune sheepishly. "I mean, so long as you're okay with that, of course. Don't worry if you're not. We can do something else."

"No, no, that's, uh… fine by me?" Jaune winced as soon as he'd finished talking. Would taking the coward's option really have been that bad?

Jaune removed his rifle's sling from around his shoulder and dropped it on the ground, taking his sweet time to let the weapon go. Finally reaching the limit of his stalling period, Jaune straightened.

Only to shriek in surprise as Phil swung a fist at his face.

He stumbled backwards, the fist passing inches over his nose as he yanked his head backwards. "Phil, what th—Ooof!" Jaune's breath was knocked out of him as Phil's shoulder collided with his stomach, the tackle lifting him clear off the ground. Jaune had a sickening moment to experience the wonders of flight before his weight caught up with him and he slammed into the dirt. Phil simply rested his foot on Jaune's chest, the warrior standing atop his fallen foe.

"Rule number one of fighting: expect the unexpected. And never lose sight of your opponent."

"That was a dirty trick," Jaune groaned.

"Rule number two: gentlemen rules are for gentlemen's sports. Not fighting."

"Aren't we onto rule number three?"

"Potentially. I'm not really keeping count. The point is, if there's a way to win, you take it. No matter what it is. In a matter of life and death, everything is allowed."

"I thought this was a friendly training session."

"Sometimes with Ralph, you couldn't tell." Phil finally removed his foot and held a hand out for Jaune. Jaune was about to gratefully accept, but then he paused and regarded the offered hand suspiciously. "Good. Now you're learning." Phil retracted his arm, and Jaune got to his feet unaided. "Now punch me."

"Say what now?"

"Throw a punch at me. Go on, I can take it."

Jaune unsteadily raised his fists into a basic fighting stance and pushed one of his fists in Phil's direction. It knocked against Phil's red breastplate, doing more damage to Jaune's knuckles than to Phil.

Phil rolled his eyes. "I said punch me. Not prod me. I need to see how hard you can hit."

"You really want me to punch you as hard as I can?" Phil grinned in answer. "Fine then." Jaune wound his arm back as far as his socket would allow. He took a deep breath and hurled it at Phil's face. Quick as a viper, Phil moved, suddenly besides the fist instead of in front of it. With a casual flick of his wrist, Phil launched Jaune's arm past him, dragging the befuddled Jaune after his stretched limb.

"That's why you never sacrifice balance when attacking," he explained as Jaune rubbed his aching wrist. "If your enemy dodges, you're left exposed."

"So how should I be punching?"

"Legs shoulder-width apart. One foot in front of the other. Feet at 12 and 5 o'clock. Make sure your centre of mass never goes over your front foot. And be ready to retract your arm quickly if your opponent dodges. Like this." Phil demonstrated a simple punch, which Jaune did his best to imitate.

"Good. Now let's talk where to hit. On the human body, there are certain weak points which are effective on just about anyone. I don't care how many push-ups you do; your eyelids aren't getting any thicker. Ralph showed me them. The basic ones are the eyes." Phil suddenly lunged at Jaune, two fingers outstretched for his face. Jaune yelped and jerked back, going cross-eyed in the process of trying to keep Phil's fingers in view. "The throat." A knife hand now came up, striking for Jaune's Adam's apple. Jaune just about managed to get an arm in the way, blocking the attack. "Temples." A foot came flying, and Jaune ducked under it as it whistled over his head. "Solar plexus." Next came a fist aimed for his abdomen. Jaune, still recovering from the last attack took this one directly in the chest. Air exploded from his lungs as he collapsed on his back, finding himself on the floor for a second time in as many minutes. "And finally, the groin." Jaune eyes went as wide as gobstoppers as the man he'd called friend raised a malignant foot, clad in a wickedly black boot, and brought it down.

Centimetres about Jaune's manhood.

"You get the picture," grinned Phil.

"I don't agree with this method of teaching," gulped Jaune, unable to drag his eyes away from the heel still hovering menacingly over his crotch.

Phil shrugged. "Worked for me. Besides, good luck ever forgetting about the weak points I pointed out after this."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I think your teammate was a bit of a psychopath."

"Oh undoubtedly," agreed Phil, finally removing his foot from its position and allowing Jaune to breathe easily again. "But Ralph was also the best fist-fighter I know. And we don't have time for the gentle approach. So unless you want to quit…"

"No," decided Jaune. As humiliating as getting his ass handed to him repeatedly by Phil was, he knew this was a necessary evil. He needed to get better as a fighter. And Phil was right: they didn't have the luxury of time. If getting pushed around a little bit was the fastest method of training, then he'd willingly do it.

Though having said, that, judging by the crocodile grin Phil was giving him, something told Jaune he might be eating his words soon. Very soon.

"I had to spend four years doing Ralph's gruelling training. I've always wondered what it would be like to be on the other side of it…"

"Hey Nuke."

Naomi looked up from the most recent set of notes she'd written to see Cat lounging against the tent entrance, cocky grin fixed on Naomi. A small smile slipped out in response. "Hey Cat. What're you doing here?"

"Wanted to check how you were holding up. Besides, I saw Lightning whacking Jaune's arse every way to Sunday and figured you could use some company now that he's busy."

"You're too kind," smirked Naomi. "It wouldn't have anything to do with you wanting to avoid said fight with Phil?"

"What, me? Avoid a fight? Have we met yet?"

"One you might lose," pointed out Naomi.

"Against jittery Jim? Jeez, such a low opinion of me."

"You know you don't have to win everything."

"I don't win everything," agreed Cat, "just the things I do," she winked.

Naomi smiled. Cat was easy to be around. Affable, even. She was like the mental sparring partner Naomi had often yearned for; always with a witty remark on the tip of her tongue.

"How are you really doing, Nuke?" Cat asked gently, and that was the other reason Naomi relished Cat's companionship so much. Some of the others found her intimidating, but Naomi knew that part of her made up the minutest slice of the woman underneath who, despite how much she might try to refute it, had a heart befit of the gentlest soul.

"I'm doing alright. Genuinely," she added at Cat's raised eyebrow. "I had a conversation with Phil earlier. He's… surprisingly good at encouragement."

"What, by lowering the bar for everyone else?" asked Cat, but her grin took the edge off her words. "Can't say I expected Lighting of all people to become the team motivator."

"What, we have occupations in this section now?"

"Of course," explained Cat. "Jaune's the leader. Terry's the professional rule-sticker. You're the explosives user…"

"And pray tell me, what does that make you?" Naomi questioned. Cat's grin was nothing short of roguish.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm the team's exemplar. The poster woman for the female specimen. The epitome of perfection."

"So many titles," noted Naomi.

"I am exceptional at multitasking," boasted Cat matter-of-factly.

"Is it ever burdensome being the best at everything?"

"The workload is tremendous. Sometimes I think I push myself too hard. Alas, being amazing is a fulltime job." Cat sighed theatrically.

Naomi laughed at the display, shaking her head. Cat smirked in return, her Heterochronic eyes shining. She hid it well, but Naomi noticed a glimmer of relief pass her face. Naomi could guess the cause: Cat had tried on multiple occasions to make Naomi laugh back when… when she hadn't been all there. Nothing had worked, and Naomi knew that Cat had been close to despairing for her from what Jaune had said. Even if it had taken a pep talk from Jaune to begin the long road to recovery, Naomi would never forget how hard Cat had tried to help her. For that single show of unconditional compassion alone, Naomi would always love Cat.

"Anything new come up over the radio?" enquired Cat, coming to sit next to her.

"I wish," groaned Naomi. "Nothing but more incoherent chatter on their end. It seems this war has ground to a stalemate. As far as I can tell, Vale's finally got its act together and is holding the line. Atlas are trying to probe for weak spots, but for now at least, they seem hesitant to commit everything in a single assault."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"What they're planning." Naomi sighed and ran a hand through her spiky blue hair, pushing it out of her left eye. That was the worst thing about their situation, she figured. That, with the exception of the stolen transmitter, they had absolutely no contact with the outside world, and no way of knowing how this war was progressing. Atlas could decide to invade Vale at any moment, but if no one bothered to broadcast that information to their area, they'd never know. Naomi hated not knowing.

After a pause, Cat asked, "What do you make of all this?"

"This?"

"This war. That we were invaded. The fact that after decades of peace, Atlas decides to attack Vale from literally fucking nowhere."

Naomi pondered the problem for a moment. There were a hundred reasons why a Kingdom might go to war, but for Atlas to do so like they had… it just didn't make sense. Vale didn't have any vital resources that Atlas needed, and even if they had, it would have been indeterminably easier to just trade for them. In such a globally connected world, war was genuinely just not as effective as other methods in getting what one wanted. What did this war achieve then, except the loss of a potential trading partner and isolation from the other Kingdoms? No doubt an unannounced invasion hadn't gone unnoticed by Mistral and Vacuo. They may even be debating taking action against Atlas, either to protect Vale or just to ensure they weren't next on Atlas's hitlist. So why do it?

"I think there's more to this war than we understand," she concluded. "I can't fathom why Atlas would want to invade, but they did, and that determines that there must have been a rationale. But if it's not for any of the conventional reasons," she went on, more talking to herself now than Cat, "then what if it's something more sinister…"

"Nuke, you're mumbling again," chided Cat, rolling her eyes. "What do you mean something more sinister?"

Naomi shrugged. "I don't know. Just a thought I had. But… it honestly seems like this war doesn't achieve anything for Atlas. All it accomplishes is a loss of life and a drain of resources for both sides. For the Kingdom, it acquires nothing. But what if it isn't meant to acquire anything for the Kingdom."

Cat sighed. "You're losing me, Nuke. Get to the point."

"What if Atlas invaded not for the benefit of the Kingdom, but for the benefit of a group? Or even an individual?"

"Why would anyone want a war?"

Naomi shrugged. "Throughout history plenty of people have benefitted from war. It's good for weapon manufacturers, industrial plants, dust suppliers."

"You think the Schnee Dust Company started this war?"

"No, that doesn't sound like them. They're greedy, yes, but not stupid. In the short term they might benefit from increased demand, but they'll have completely cut off an entire Kingdom from any imports. They'll lose almost a quarter of their customers during the war, and afterwards if people realise they were involved people might even boycott the company. It just doesn't make sense economically."

Cat threw her arms into the air. "Alright, alright, superior detective skills thoroughly proven. Just tell me who you think started this shitstorm already."

"I wonder… what if there's something in Vale that we don't know about. Something that someone wants very badly. Bad enough to go to war over."

"So they invaded Vale to capture it?"

Naomi shrugged. "Capture it. Force us to trade it in a peace deal. Take it whilst everyone else is busy killing each other… take your pick."

"Bloody hell that's… that's fucked up. You think there are people out there really willing to do all this just to get what they want?"

Naomi looked Cat dead in the eye as she said, "I know that there are people like that. Monsters who wear human skin, but deep down they're more twisted than the Grimm. At least the Grimm are noticeably evil." And Cat, shivered.

It took Naomi a full five seconds of silence to realise why.

Cat's face was expressionless, but Naomi could read her posture like a textbook. She had locked up, her muscles going rigid in an attempt to hide some emotion. Before she could stop herself, Naomi's curiosity had her asking, "Cat, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she answered, far too quickly.

"Do you need to talk about something?"

"I'm fine," she stubbornly repeated.

"Cat, it's alright if you're afraid of the Grim—"

"I'm not afraid," she snapped.

"But—" Naomi stopped herself. Too far. Naomi was pushing too far. She could practically see Cat's fortifications slamming up behind her eyes, sealing up the tender part of her behind a fortress of ice. Cat clearly had no intention to talk about this, and Naomi had no real right to ask. Her friend was entitled to her own secrets. If Cat wasn't ready to tell her about them, then Naomi wouldn't pry.

"Alright then," she accepted, and that was that. "Tell me more about what kind of training Phil has Jaune doing." Anything to change the conversation.

Cat relaxed marginally, though she still seemed stiffer than when she'd first entered. "It's hardly training at all. Lightning's running circles around Jaune and shouting tips every now and then. Jaune looks like he's on death's door, but he's putting up an admirable attem—"

"Come in Oscar Four, this is Command Centre Lima, do you copy, over?" gurgled the transmitter. Both Cat and Naomi froze.

"Command Centre Lima, this is Oscar Four. We read you loud and clear, over."

"This is a priority transmission Oscar Four. Orders from the top. Black Bishop wants to inspect the troops and your platoon has been selected to perform some manoeuvres for him. This overrides all other orders. Do you copy, Oscar Four?"

"Roger that, Command Centre Lima, wilco."

The next transmission had Naomi silently scrambling for her notebook.

"Black Bishop will be transported in by airship in three days. Your platoon is to secure the landing site and surrounding area in that time, then wait for further orders. Standby for coordinates."

Naomi made eye contact with Cat, an electric shiver of exhilaration snaking under her skin. Cat was grinning manically, and her eyes were aglow with excitement, whatever fear that had previously gripped her now indiscernible. She mouthed two words to Naomi, and Naomi, despite herself, couldn't help but agree with their sentiment.

Got them.

Jaune punched, jabbed, kicked, dodged, blocked, and most of all, fell his way through the next two hours of his life. By the end, his hands were leaden weights hanging from two pieces of spaghetti that were his arms. His shins and forearms barked in agony from the sheer number of blows they'd blocked. His nose throbbed from a headbutt Phil had graciously demonstrated. His toes felt puffy in his shoes from kicking. And his bum… oh god his bum.

Jaune was about thirty seconds from complete appendage failure when Phil finally called their 'training' to a close. Jaune gratefully grabbed a water canteen and greedily gulped down gallons of the sweet, sweet nectar of life, groaning softly to himself in satisfaction. Phil just smirked, barely even winded.

"We should get the others to join in on our training," suggested Phil. "It can only help to have more people who know how to fight in our section." And being able to watch someone other than him fall flat on their arse time and time again? Jaune nodded furiously.

But just at that moment, Naomi appeared from what had become the radio tent. She spotted Jaune and immediately made a beeline for him. The look on her face as she approached had Jaune pushing himself to his feet, ignoring his limbs as they groaned in protest at the movement. Something important had happened.

"I've got it," said Naomi when she arrived, slightly breathless. "I've got a set of coordinates for a ship."

Jaune's heart fluttered hesitantly. "Close?" A nod.

"In three days an airship carrying a VIP is going to land close enough to walk to. This is our opportunity to steal it and get home." A VIP? In a war?

"Who?"

Although Jaune had been the one to ask the question, it was Phil who Naomi looked at as she whispered, "Black Bishop." An intake of breath from Phil had Jaune looking between the two of them.

"Who?" he asked again.

"Someone senior in the Atlas military," answered Phil. "We've heard that codename mentioned several times over the radio.

"Someone very senior," corrected Naomi, "considering the precautions they're taking. He's to travel with an escort of elite soldiers, and his landing area is to be firmly controlled by infantry. That's why they gave the exact coordinates: so there was no confusion where they needed to cover."

"Didn't they fear someone overhearing it?" asked Jaune.

"I think we're even further behind enemy lines than we realised. They clearly don't expect there to be anyone able to listen in except them. It's even more incredible that we haven't been caught yet." And only a matter of time until we are, she didn't need to say. "Jaune, this could be our only shot of getting home. We may never get this opportunity again."

"It sounds risky as," pointed out Phil. "Maybe too risky. Taking on a guy that important… it won't be easy. That's for sure. He's bound to be surrounded 24/7. And I don't know about you guys, but I'd rather not find out who these 'elite troops' are."

"We've done nothing but take risks so far," countered Naomi. "There will never be an easy opportunity. They're not just going to give us an unguarded ship. We need to take our chances whilst we still can."

"It's up to you, Sarge. Do we go for it?"

Jaune thought about it for a long minute, weighing their chances. Both Naomi and Phil had made good arguments, but… they couldn't afford to wait any longer. They'd already been here for too long. Their supplies wouldn't last indefinitely, and it was only a matter of time before they were discovered, either by Atlas or Grimm. Jaune honestly didn't know which would be worse.

No, they had to do this, before this chance slipped between their fingers. "We go for it," he told them. "Tell everyone to break camp. I want to get moving whilst we still have daylight."

"You're the boss," said Phil, turning around to rouse the troops. Out of the corner of his eye, Jaune noticed Naomi smiling at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, just… you sounded unnervingly leaderlike there." Jaune blushed and started stuttering, utterly ruining the image as Naomi gave a short, clear laugh. It was one of the best sounds he'd heard from her in a long time. "So, you think we can do this?"

"I'm sure we can," Jaune assured her. "Besides, how bad can this Black Bishop person really be?"

Bad, as it turned out. Very, very bad.

Hmmm, now who could this mysterious Black Bishop be? I have developed the perfect twist, the most unpredictable mystery ever set to Fanfiction. It's totally not mind-numbingly obvious, and I definitely don't expect you all to immediately guess who this character is.

So Jaune is finally getting some training, though I somehow doubt Phil is going to be quite as gentle as Pyrrha was in the show. But hey, our protagonist needs some extra skills if he's to survive the upcoming chapters, and Phil is technically a trained Huntsman. As a writer, I decided to do this so I could make future fights more entertaining if Jaune actually knows how to fight, rather than just describing him getting beaten up by vastly superior foes or having him blunder his way to a cheesy victory.

Ok, now I figured this is a good a time as any to bring it up, so I was wondering if any of you lovely readers are any good with a pencil or paintbrush and maybe had some free time on your hands. I'm just saying, currently the thumbnail of this story is a pretty generic screenshot of Jaune. If anyone was interested in drawing some fanart for this story, then I would love for you to get in touch with me via a private message or review. Even if it's just a drawing of Jaune in military combats, that would still be better than what I've currently got. There's absolutely no pressure to do this whatsoever, so please don't feel like you're obliged to help, but if you're a fan of this story and you want to make it even cooler, it would absolutely make my day to hear from you.

Otherwise, I'll hopefully post the next chapter in two weeks, but like I've previously said, these next few might take a little longer than normal due to exams.