I'm back hombres! And I'm over the moon to tell you that my GCSEs are finally over. I had to take a break from fanfiction to focus on my last few these past few weeks, hence why I didn't release a new chapter last fortnight, but thankfully that's all done and I can now focus more of my time on this story. Thanks for your patience with me these last few weeks!

"I have seen war. I have seen war on land and sea. I have seen blood running from the wounded. I have seen men coughing out their gassed lungs. I have seen the dead in the mud. I have seen cities destroyed. I have seen 200 limping, exhausted men come out of line—the survivors of a regiment of 1,000 that went forward 48 hours before. I have seen children starving. I have seen the agony of mothers and wives. I hate war"

President Franklin D. Roosevelt

Chapter Nineteen—Friends in Low Places

It took at least another half hour for Jaune to finally find the command centre. It was completely indistinguishable from every other underground bunker except for the two guards who stood outside it. It was only because of them that Jaune managed to find it at all. One of them took him inside, then led him through a long, fluorescent lamp-lit hallway, before finally coming to a halt outside an open door at the furthest end of the corridor. Jaune ducked inside.

The interior looked remarkedly similar to a regular study: a large oaken desk dominated the centre of the room, weighed down by pristine piles of neatly trimmed paper; maps adorned the concrete walls, displaying Vale and its surrounding territories from every altitude; there was even a smart rug draped across the floor, perhaps in an attempt to make what was effectively a cube cut out of concrete a little more comfortable.

"You are?" questioned a sturdily built man behind the desk. He had a crown of white hair atop his head and wrinkles forming around his eyes, but far from looking old and wizened this man seemed able to dominate the room with just his presence as he rose to his remarkable full height. His hard gaze demanded compliance as it bore into Jaune's eyes.

"Sergeant Arc of Beta section, reporting for duty, sir." Jaune gave a crisp salute to the man, noticing the rank slide on his uniform that marked him as a colonel. The uniform in question was smart and crisp, more ornamental than pragmatic like Jaune's camouflaged combats, and it weighed heavy with the plethora of shining medals that adorned it. "My section and I just arrived here. I have some important intel I think you should know," he began. "Sir, I know this may sound hard to be—"

"One moment," interrupted the colonel, raising a single deft finger to silence Jaune. "Beta section, Beta section," he muttered to himself, his deft fingers shuffling bits of paper around his heavily-laden desk in front of him.

"Uh, sir, I think you'll want to hear thi—"

"Whatever it is, it can wait until I've found the correct papers," and something about the firmness in the man's voice had Jaune shutting up, as if he were a schoolboy getting a telling off from a teacher.

The colonel finally found the sheet he wanted, pulling it out and studying it for a moment, before stating, "Intel claims your section went MIA weeks ago." Missing in action. That was one way to put it.

"We were, sir. Atlas ambushed us on a training exercise when the invasion began, and we were forced to flee. We've been trying to get back to our lines ever since."

The man hummed, going back to flit over the neatly typed writing on his sheet. His eyes halted at something, then narrowed. "It says here Sergeant Cole is leading Beta section. Where is he?"

"Sergeant Cole…" Jaune closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing the lump in his throat as he pictured the bear of a man who had been Jaune's previous commanding officer. Who had taught Jaune everything he knew about the army, and what it was to be a leader. Who had ended up giving up his life for Jaune's. "He didn't make it out of the ambush, sir," he finished tightly.

A beat passed in silence. The colonel sighed, then pulled out a pencil and made a thin line through something on his sheet. "Another good soldier lost to this damn war," he muttered. "I'll make sure a telegram is sent to his family." His family. Jaune started. He hadn't even realised. It had never even occurred to him that Sergeant Cole might have had a family back home, waiting for a man who would never return.

The man continued. "I know this may be hard, but can you name any other men you lost?"

Jaune took in a ragged breath. "Corporal Ash and… and Buzz. Private Buzz Victorian." The man made two more crosses on his sheet. He set it down, then pulled a hand through his hair. For the first time this meeting, Jaune caught a glimpse of the old man beneath the soldier, wearied beyond his time by what he had to burden. But then it was gone, and the man's face was weathered granite as he turned back to Jaune.

"Your determination in getting back to our lines is commendable. I'll even see about getting you and your squad some medals for your drive."

"That you, sir," replied Jaune, and he meant it. He didn't care about the medals much, but he knew that Terry would be over the moon. He'd been trying to pick up a souvenir to prove his military success to his father for a while now.

"Now," continued the man, leaning back, "about this intel of yours."

Jaune started. Of course, the information he'd received on the airship. The whole reason for visiting command in the first place. "Sir, I know you may find this hard to believe, but…" Jaune took a deep breath, "Atlas is about to attack Vale."

"They've already attacked Vale," pointed out the older man.

"I mean the city of Vale, not the outer territories. And I know it's going to happen soon." If Jaune had expected shock from the colonel at his revelation, he was disappointed. If he had expected the man to laugh his suggestion straight out of hand, he was also sorely mistaken. Instead the man simply sat back in his chair and stared long and hard at Jaune. Jaune stared back, trying to convey the truth through his look."

Eventually, the man said, very slowly, very cautiously, "Where did you get this intel from?"

"My section and I intercepted a transmission going to an Atlesian general's ship. It came from, uh…" Jaune suddenly realised how ridiculous it would sound to mention the Grimm lady. The man would laugh in his face if he tried to tell him about… her. Hell, he barely believed it himself, and he had seen her first hand. Only her bone chilling promise prevented him from brushing it off as some nightmare. So instead he simply said, "It gave the order to invade Vale as soon as their men were ready."

Once more the man sat back and considered Jaune's words, before asking, "How did you get this transmission?"

"We, uh, we kind of stole the general's ship." That at least merited a raised eyebrow from the colonel. "It's a long story," said Jaune by way of an explanation. The colonel mulled over Jaune's words for a moment more, before letting out a sigh.

"Look, son, I believe you're serious about receiving this message—"

"So you'll warn Vale?" The man held up his hand for silence.

"However, you've also been out of the loop for a lot longer, so let me fill you in. An invasion into the city of Vale is impossible."

"How can you be sure?" Jaune demanded. "What if they really are about to hit Vale?"

"Then they'll lose," stated the man. "It's that simple. They can't break the line with us still stubbornly holding on, and an air assault is nothing short of suicide. Vale is protected by enough anti-aircraft guns to take down half their fleet. Atlas wouldn't risk wrecking their precious navy on such a risky offensive."

"But… but I heard—"

"I don't doubt you when you say that you did, soldier, but believe me when I say that was a hoax. A trick to throw off our intelligence by flooding us with false reports."

"A… a hoax? Are you sure?"

The man's features softened marginally. "I understand your apprehension, soldier, and you did the right thing by bringing this information to me. But you're clearly new to the army. No commander would risk attacking Vale at this point. They'd lose too many men and too much equipment trying. Atlas wants something out of this war, and although I'll be damned if I know what, it certainly isn't a slaughter. Their best option is to outlast us in a war of attrition. Don't worry, soldier, Vale is safe for now."

Jaune stared at the man, trying to slot what he was saying into his understanding of things. Was the transmission really nothing more than a simple trick? It couldn't be. The Grimm lady, how she'd looked; that must have been real, right? You couldn't just fake… that…

Actually, now that Jaune thought about it, you definitely could. Just a little bit of makeup and some contact lenses and voila: you had yourself one monster lady. And everything she'd said to him, the bone-chilling promise she'd made… had that all be simply to throw him off so that he wouldn't question whether the call was genuine or not?

Jaune could have debated with himself for hours more, but then the colonel moved the subject on, and Jaune was forced to shelve his thoughts for later. At the very least, the colonel was right about one thing: Vale wouldn't be invaded anytime soon. Jaune didn't know the exact logistics of an army, but he knew getting men into position for an all-out attack would take time. A couple of days at least. And even if that did happen, the colonel had told Jaune Vale was protected by anti-aircraft guns. They wouldn't be able to get through that.

Would they?

Half an hour after being dismissed from the command bunker, Jaune was still mulling over his conversation with the colonel. The colonel had dumped an entire payload of information onto Jaune, and his mind was still reeling from everything he'd learnt. But try as he might, he couldn't make heads or tails of most of it. There was still so much that didn't make sense about the whole situation.

For a start, Vale still had no clue why Atlas had invaded. One day it had been business as usual; the next, what the colonel had called I-Day—Invasion Day—Atlas had entered Valesian airspace unannounced and had started to strike military installations. Jaune supposed that was where his section's misadventure had stemmed from: they'd been one of the unlucky soldiers to be present at a base Atlas had targeted. After that first day when the Valesian military had been in such disarray, it was an absolute miracle the city hadn't been taken then and there. In fact, it was more than a miracle. It was… unbelievable.

The colonel had explained that just as Atlas had come within striking distance of Vale, they'd been ordered to halt. The reason for this move still baffled the military commanders. And Jaune. Why would an army which was so close to finishing its campaign so soon suddenly pull back? It wasn't like they were too weak to take the city; Vale had barely put a scratch on their fleet. But all of a sudden Atlas had halted their attack. By the time they tried to push again, Vale had been equipped with a vast array of anti-aircraft defences, and the Valesian military had been able to regroup and form a line. It just didn't make sense to Jaune. The most common theory for the tactical error seemed to be faulty intelligence, but Jaune wasn't entirely convinced. Surely their intel couldn't have been that wrong.

Puzzles within puzzles. It made Jaune's head spin just thinking about it. He needed a break from it all. He absentmindedly put his hand to his chest, feeling for the familiar bit of fabric that was his rank slide—

Oh. Right.

Jaune's hand dropped back to his side. His fingers itched, a phantom feeling of rough fabric teasing them. He took a deep breath, but not even that seemed to fill the gaping hole he felt in the middle of his chest. Or rather, the front of his chest. Because on the front of his uniform, right where his sergeant rank slide should have been, was nothing.

The colonel hadn't been unkind when, just as their meeting had been coming to a close, he'd asked for the rank slide back. He'd even seemed apologetic when he'd explained that ranks weren't simply handed over from one officer to another. When he'd explained that Jaune wasn't a sergeant anymore. The man had even promised to look into getting Jaune a promotion to lance-corporal for his leadership in the field. Just… not sergeant.

It was just the way the army worked, Jaune tried to tell himself. What had he expected to happen? He hadn't earned the rank—not really. Not the way he was supposed to. Sergeant Cole had simply given it to him in the field. That wasn't the way promotions worked.

Why then had it been so hard to part with the blood-crusted slide?

Maybe because it was the only part of Sergeant Cole he had left. Maybe because that little rectangle had made him feel, for just a moment, like he'd deserved to be a leader again. Or maybe because, without a Commanding Officer, Beta section were being put under the command of a recently available Field Sergeant.

Cardin Winchester.

As of tomorrow, at oh six hundred hours, Beta section would be being shipped off to the front lines with their new CO. What it would be like to have to obey orders from Cardin Winchester… Jaune wasn't quite ready to face that yet. But for the rest of the evening at least, they were free to do as they pleased.

Which meant that Jaune had one more thing he needed to do. One more task he was stalling.

Just as Jaune had been leaving the colonel's office, a thought had flashed through his mind. He'd turned back and asked the colonel one, simple question.

Where was the nearest phone he could use?

The colonel had disclosed its location, but not before he'd impressed upon Jaune the necessity of the utmost discretion during whatever call he made. He wasn't allowed to give any indication of where he was, what he was doing, or what shape the Valesian military was in. Not that Jaune knew any of that of course, but that hadn't stopped the colonel from grilling him for a good five minutes on it.

And now he was here, staring at a little camo-green box with an old-fashioned handset on the top. Jaune had only ever seen anything like it in movies set in the past, but apparently it was the only secure line in the base that could communicate with scrolls. Ever since Atlas had invaded, Vale had switched off their CCT tower, probably figuring that Atlas would have a harder time communicating long distance than Vale would locally. Fortunately, they'd reintroduced local wireless transmissions, meaning people could communicate within the Kingdom. Exactly where Jaune wanted his call to go.

With fingers that refused to stop trembling, Jaune dialled a memorised number. The phone rang once. Jaune held his breath. Twice. Three times. Jaune almost lost his confidence at four but managed to clamp his hand to the side of his head. He could do this. He had to. Five times. Six. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Maybe he should call back late—

"Hello?" said a voice like an Autumn breeze through the green grass, and Jaune's heart stopped dead in his chest. It was a voice he hadn't heard in such a long time he'd almost begun to forget it. A voice whose every syllable was as soft as the pitter patter of falling rain, as warm as a cup of hot chocolate, as sweet as runny honey. A voice he'd once taken for granted, only realising its preciousness once he'd lost it.

Pyrrha.

He opened his mouth to speak—only for a wisp of air to wheeze out of his lungs, mercifully inaudible. What was he supposed to say? What could he say? He hadn't spoken to Pyrrha since before he'd thrown a jar of sap at her. What if she hated him? What if she didn't want to talk to him?

"Hello?" Pyrrha asked again, confusion and just a hint of impatience tinging her voice.

Jaune tried to speak again but once more his treacherous throat clogged up, choking the words he tried to say before they could even reach his lips. He felt his chest cave inwards, felt his lungs collapsing. He couldn't draw breath. He was suffocating. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. He couldn—

"Hello?" Pyrrha questioned a final time, her voice edged now with suspicion. Jaune knew what would happen as if he were watching it through a fog-encased window. Pyrrha would assume this was a misdial or a prank call. She would take one final look at the number and, not recognizing it, would hang up and forget all about this moment. Jaune was about to miss his only chance to speak to her. To apologise for what he'd done. He was about to lose Pyrrha a second time—

"Pyrrha." The words were a hiss of escaping breath.

Silence.

Then, "Jaune?"

Pyrrha Nikos, warrior Huntress in training, Mistral's regional fighting champion and Beacon's invincible girl, had never felt more unhappy. She trudged her way down Beacon's dispirited hallways towards her dorm room, her mind enveloped by depressing thoughts. She bumped into someone along the way and barely even noticed, mumbling a half-hearted apology at the other student. Their response was even less committed, little more than a grunt of acknowledgement before they'd moved on. Pyrrha was inclined to do the same.

These past few weeks had been hard for Pyrrha. To be fair, they'd been hard on everyone: ever since the war began, Beacon wasn't filled with as much laughter as there used to be. The teachers were subdued, the students dejected. Even little Ruby Rose had been struggling to see the good in their situation. But still, Pyrrha couldn't help but feel like her lot was… well… a lot worse. News of the war had hit everyone hard, but at least most of the other students had had a full team to confide with. At least they were still a full family. But team JNPR…

She hastily shook away the haunted memories that tried to claw their way back into her mind. She wasn't the only one suffering, she scolded herself. Some had it much worse than her and yet they weren't complaining. Even if she had lost her partner, at least she wasn't… well, Weiss.

Weiss Schnee, the school's resident Atlas citizen. And when it had become clear that Atlas had invaded Vale…

It hadn't been pretty. It had started off as a few pointed glares, the sudden absence of anyone near where she sat in the cafeteria, the hushed quiet that fell over any room she walked into. Then it had gotten worse. Much worse. Comments previously whispered behind her back became hissed insults as she walked by. Students would turn their back on her as she passed, or else sneer cruelly in her direction. A couple of times a sudden spitball or globule of food had mysteriously found its way into her hair or onto her clothes to subtle (or not so subtle) sniggers from nearby.

Weiss had faced it all with her head held high and her back straight, refusing to let herself be demeaned by those around her. But behind closed doors, Pyrrha knew from Weiss' teammates how hard she was taking things; not just the abuse, but with how her own Kingdom had invaded a peaceful neighbour in an act of unprovoked aggression. Worse, it seemed that even her own father had had a hand in the war. A few weeks before it all broke out, Jacques Schnee had tried to convince her to return home to Atlas. Weiss had refused, thinking her father was attempting to steal back whatever vestige of freedom she had fought so hard to attain. Now it seemed clear that he'd wanted her out because he knew about the invasion.

Even though she knew she shouldn't, Pyrrha couldn't help but dislike the man.

Team RWBY and what was left of JNPR did their best to help Weiss out: forming a protective ring around her as she walked around campus, sitting with her at lunch when no one else would, trying to support her when she was down. But whilst they could dissuade an outright attack on Weiss, they could do nothing against the taunts and the jibes that ceaselessly rained on Weiss day after day after day. Nothing but tell her to ignore them, ignore them, they didn't know anything, just ignore them. But there was only so much someone could ignore the same old insults before they began to wonder if there might be some truth to them. Pyrrha knew that all too well. Though her fighting carrier had earned her a lifetime of praise, with any amount of fame always came the hate. And though Pyrrha had always tried to focus on the people who loved her for what she did and ignore those who didn't, she knew how easy it was to fall into that whirlpool of negativity if she dwelt on it for too long. That was why, although she'd previously been sceptical of Weiss' true intentions when she'd first offered to join a team with Pyrrha, her heart now went out to the pale girl who had to suffer so much misdirected malice simply because of events utterly out of her control.

Pyrrha reached her dorm at last, noticing Ren and Nora already inside. "Hey Pyr," mumbled Nora, her usually chipper voice despondent. Ren's greeting was even less enthusiastic, little more than a nod in her direction before he went back to cleaning StormFlower, his movements slow and lifeless.

Pyrrha sighed. Both her teammates had been badly affected when Jaune had up and left them. It seemed like wherever she went the people she knew had had a dampener put on them, dulling the joy that used to burn so bright in each of her friends. Nora wasn't as energetic as before, as bubbly. Ren had become even more removed, quieter since Jaune's departure, though he at least tried to put on a brave face for the team. Pyrrha felt for them—she really did—but at the same time she couldn't hold back a sliver of envy at the two of them. At least they'd had each other to support themselves when things had gotten rough. Pyrrha hadn't even had a partner to help her. She felt like she'd been adrift for weeks, just slowly letting the current drag her body around. She wasn't sure if she'd ever find her way back to dry land.

She sat down on her bed slowly and put her hands to her face, breathing deeply through them. She sorted through how she'd imagined a life at Beacon would be, how she'd hoped it would go. She'd meet new people, make some friends—friends who wouldn't just see her as the Invincible Girl, or Mistral's Champion. Just as Pyrrha, the ordinary, normal girl like any other. For a moment, it had almost been like that. Almost. Until…

Until Jaune had left. She pressed her hands closer against her face, scrunching her eyes shut against the familiar stinging now pricking her eyelids for release. She'd turned over every single conversation she'd ever had with Jaune, every interaction and passing glance, for even the slightest clue as to why Jaune had abandoned them the way he did. Getting expelled was one thing, but disappearing without so much as a goodbye? Pyrrha replayed the scenes in her head again as hot tears trickled down her cheeks, desperately searching for what she'd done wrong, what she'd said that had made him hate her and the team so much. For that must have been what happened. Why else would Jaune had cut them off so completely unless he despised them so thoroughly that he hadn't even wanted to say goodbye face to face? She'd tried to do the best she could—she really had! She'd tried to be a good teammate and a good partner; she'd even tried to train Jaune to help him improve. But maybe she'd been pushing him away and hadn't even noticed it. Maybe that's what happened when you were so desperate for friends: you couldn't even tell that the people you cared about were slowly hating you.

Her scroll buzzed in her pocket. Once. Twice. Pyrrha ignored it, wondering whether if she ignored everything forever would she finally be able to stop hurting so much? The phone buzzed again. Three times. Four. Pyrrha sighed. It might be her parents calling. She didn't want them to worry about her. She pulled the scroll out of her pocket, quickly wiping the tears that stained her cheeks into hiding from Ren and Nora. She checked the number. Odd: it wasn't one she recognised. The scroll buzzed a fifth and final time, and Pyrrha knew she had to answer it so as to not appear rude. Shoving her emotions back into the deep recess of her mind, she put on her bravest and fakest smile and said into the scroll, "Hello?"

Nothing. Not even a whisper of air was her answer. "Hello?" she tried again. Only silence met her greeting. This was getting ridiculous. Pyrrha could feel the smile on her face slipping off like wet plaster as her patience, once legendarily long, wore thread-thin. She'd try one more time, she decided, then she didn't care who was on the other end, they could take their silence elsewhere. "Hello?" she demanded one final time. Still nothing. Pyrrha gave up, taking the phone from her ear and moving her hand to hang up. Her finger was a centimetre above the end call button when a scratchy voice rasped, "Pyrrha."

Pyrrha froze. That voice. "Jaune?" she asked, unaware she wasn't even breathing anymore.

"Pyrrha," croaked that voice again. Jaune's voice. Jaune.

"Jaune," she gasped, as if she needed to remind herself that this was real, that this was really Jaune, her Jaune. Tears, warm and cleansing rushed down her face, and with each one that dripped onto the bed below her she felt like a million pounds were lifting from her burdened shoulders.

"Jaune?" gasped Nora, overhearing Pyrrha. "Let me talk to him!"

"Nora, don't—Ahh!" Pyrrha suddenly found herself grappling for her scroll against a very determined Nora, intent on snatching it from her hands.

"Jaune!" shouted Nora at the scroll, wresting it closer to herself.

"Nora?" came Jaune's voice through the scroll. Tears immediately glistened in Nora's eyes at the sound of that familiar voice, so much so that for a split-second Nora's ape-like grip loosened, and Pyrrha snatched her scroll back. Nora snapped out of her trance and went for the scroll again, only to have her shoulders yanked back by Ren.

"Renny, it's Jaune," pleaded Nora. "I have to talk to hi—"

"And you will," consoled Ren, squeezing Nora's shoulders in comfort. "But let Pyrrha talk to him first." He nodded at her, and Pyrrha couldn't have thanked him enough as she turned back to her scroll and brought it trembling to her ear again.

"Jaune, where are you? What happened? I thought—"

"I'm sorry," breathed Jaune. Pyrrha faltered.

"Sorry? For what?"

"For everything," hiccupped Jaune. His voice was so broken and raw that Pyrrha felt fresh tear spring from her eyes at the sound of it. "For leaving you. For not calling you or the team. For… for being weak and cowardly and selfish and… and for choosing to save my own stupid hide instead of protecting you…"

"What are you talking about?" she choked, barely able to get the words out for the fountain of emotions that were erupting inside her: joy and sorrow and relief and pain and happiness, intermingling and swirling inside her in a vast vortex of feelings.

"The… that day in the Forest of Forever Fall… when I threw the jar of sap at you… Pyrrha I'm so, so sorry about tha—"

A laugh, explosive and unexpected bubbled its way out of Pyrrha's chest, bursting at the same time a sob wracked her body. "Oh Jaune," she half wept half laughed. "You big, bumbling buffoon. You left because of that? I forgive you."

"You… you do?"

And it was the genuine surprise in Jaune's voice that had Pyrrha exclaiming "Yes! You're my partner. My friend. I could never hate you for something like that, and neither do Ren or Nora." There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. "Jaune?"

"I don't deserve you guys," came the choked reply, and through Jaune's voice alone Pyrrha knew he was crying.

"Don't say that," she chided gently. "We love you Jaune. We always will. We're family, remember?"

"I've been a terrible friend. I wasn't there for you. I should… I should have stayed with you… I shouldn't have abandoned you like I did…"

"Sssh, sssh, it's ok, Jaune. It's alright," soothed Pyrrha. "You're here now. That's enough."

A short paused followed, during which Jaune composed himself before asking, "Is anyone else there?"

"Nora's desperate to talk to you," smiled Pyrrha sadly. "Ren's here too."

"Can… can I talk to them?"

Pyrrha pressed the loudspeaker button on her phone and held it out to Nora and Ren. Nora was on it in an instant, shouting, "Jauney! Jaune! Is that you?"

"It's me Nora," replied Jaune.

"Where have you been?" sobbed Nora. "I missed you."

"Me too Nora. Me too. And I'm… I'm sorry. For everything I put you through. I made a mistake, Nora. I wasn't thinking straight. I was being selfish. I was—"

"I don't care!" shouted Nora.

"W—what?"

"I don't care what you did, or why you did it. You're calling. That's all I care about. We can be a family again."

"I… I'd like that."

"Me too," said Nora, and for the first time in what felt like months, Nora smiled. Not the usual, fake smiles she plastered to her face to try to keep everyone's spirits up, but a genuine, organic smile, not because she was supposed to be chirpy or because she needed to do it for someone else, but just because she was truly happy.

"Ren?" asked Jaune.

"I'm here," answered the quietest member of the team. "It is good to hear from you, Jaune."

"You too, Ren," replied Jaune. "You too."

"When are you coming home?" demanded Nora.

"I…" Jaune hesitated. "I can't. At least not yet."

"What?" gasped Pyrrha. "Why not?"

"There's a war. People are dying every day, and thousand more will join them if Atlas gets through to Vale. I have to fight, to protect the people I love. To protect you guys."

"But… but Atlas can't take Vale, silly," said Nora. "There's no way they'd get through all the defences we now have. We're safe."

"Right… yeah…" Jaune hesitated.

"What is it, Jaune?" asked Ren, immediately picking up on his brief pause.

"It's nothing. It's… well… don't worry about it."

"You know you can tell us anything," said Pyrrha.

"Yeah, we're a team, remember?" declared Nora.

"A problem shared is a problem halved," added Ren.

Jaune said nothing for a moment, as if weighing up whether he should speak or not, but then he said, "I… I don't think Vale is safe."

"What do you mean?" asked Pyrrha, and so Jaune explained. He explained how he and his section had stolen an Atlesian general's airship, told them about the message they'd received whilst on it, and described the woman he'd talked to. All the while Pyrrha sat in shocked silence as she listened to Jaune's tale. Finally, once he'd finished talking, Pyrrha said, "But that… that can't have been real. There's no such thing as a Grimm human."

"Not that we know of," pointed out Ren. "But that doesn't necessarily mean there isn't one. And on the off chance that there is…"

"Then all of Vale is in danger," finished Jaune. Stunned silence descended upon the group as they all tried to process what they'd heard. That there might be some sort of intelligent Grimm who not only existed, but who was also behind the entire invasion of Vale.

"What do you think about this woman, Jaune?" asked Pyrrha diplomatically. "You're the one who talked to her first hand. Do you believe she was really what she seemed?"

"I… my superior officer told me it was nothing; he said I'd been hoaxed."

"Do you agree?"

Silence. Then, "Everything about that situation was so unbelievable, and yet… I believe it. At least my gut does. What she promised me she'd do to my family, to you guys… I've never felt such… loathing. Even though she didn't even know me, it was like she despised everything I was. I don't think that could've been faked."

"So if she is real," began Pyrrha cautiously, "then we have to figure out how to stop her."

"Agreed," said Ren. "It is always better to assume the worse and be pleasantly surprised than to underestimate the threat and end up with casualties."

"Oooh! We should go find this Grimm lady and break her legs!" enthused Nora. "That'll teach her to mess with Vale."

"Nora!" chided Pyrrha. "Breaking legs isn't the answer to everything."

"Why not?" pouted Nora. "She deserves it."

"Whilst I do not entirely agree with the sentiment of what Nora is suggesting," cut in Ren, "perhaps she is right in suggesting we take the fight to this… Salem character before she has a chance to destroy Vale."

"Jaune said he was able to trace the call," added Pyrrha excitedly. "We can track her with that, right Jaune?"

Jaune was silent for a long moment, before he finally said, "You guys… I appreciate everything you're trying to do for me but… you can't go after Salem."

"Why not?" demanded Nora. "Someone needs to teach her a lesson."

"No… no, you don't understand. This is like nothing you've ever faced before. This isn't anything like a simple sparing match or a friendly dual. Salem is dangerous, and she will kill you in an instant without hesitation. You guys aren't ready to face her."

"Are you?" questioned Ren.

"It wouldn't be the first time someone's tried to kill me." A frost-coated shiver sliced its way down Pyrrha's back. Not just at what he'd said… but how calmly he'd said it. As if it were a common and accepted fact.

"Jaune," she said quietly. "We know the risks. But we want to help you. You don't have to face this nightmare alone."

"You… you don't understand. I only just got you guys back." A shuddering breath. "Please… I can't lose you again."

"And what about you?" asked Pyrrha softly. "What if we lose you? What if I lose you?"

"I… it will be alright. You guys will be alright without me. You don't need me. No one needs me…"

Pyrrha felt her heart bleeding—actually bleeding—for Jaune, each and every beat sending jarring threads of pain slicing through her chest as every ounce of her being wanted to weep for Jaune. That he thought that way about himself, that he thought they didn't need him, that he somehow wasn't deserving of their love. "Oh Jaune—"

"Don't. Think. That. Way." Pyrrha turned, her mouth falling agape as she beheld Ren—Ren of all people—tensing with restrained anger. "Don't ever think you're expendable. Don't ever think we don't need you, or that you're worth less than us. We do need you." Ren's voice softened. "We're family. And if you're putting yourself in danger, then so are we."

Jaune was silent for a long time, apparently just as shocked by Ren's outburst as Pyrrha had been. Then he said, "Maybe… maybe there is something you guys can help me with."

"Anything," offered Pyrrha.

"If Atlas is about to invade Vale, then the citizens need to be warned. The army won't take this threat seriously, and I doubt the council will either, but people still need to be evacuated somewhere safe, and the defences need to be ready."

"Say no more, Jauney: operation prepare-Vale-for-attack is a go."

"Thank, Nora. And there's something else too. There's one more thing about the transmission from Salem that I haven't figured out. She said something about a breach, and that someone called Cinder was ready to start it."

"A breach?" Ren looked thoughtful. "I have never heard of such a thing. I don't know what that means."

"Neither do I, but… I can't shake the feeling that this is something big. Something to do with the attack on Vale."

"What do you need us to do?" asked Pyrrha.

"I need you to be on your guard. Something big is about to happen in Vale, I know it. I just don't know what. I need you guys to be ready for whatever it is, and to stop it when it happens."

"That's… not a lot to go on," cringed Pyrrha.

"I know, I know. But I need you guys to do this for me. Vale cannot fall. I need you guys to ensure that. I have to go now, someone else wants to phone. Promise me though, you'll protect Vale however you can. Ask the other students for help. Get Ozpin involved if you need. Just be ready for what's coming."

"Don't worry, Jauney," chirped Nora. "You can count on us!"

"What are you going to do?" questioned Pyrrha. Jaune paused. Pyrrha felt her pulse quicken. "You're not going to go after Salem on your own, are you Jaune?"

Jaune gave a brittle chuckle. "No, of course not. I'm going to try to see if I can convince the army of the danger to Vale. I really need to go now. Be careful."

"You too, Jaune," said Pyrrha. And then he was gone.

Jaune pressed his head against the cool metal of the phone receiver and allowed himself a single moment to close his eyes. No one interrupted him. No one asked to use the phone now that he was done. In fact, there was no one there at all. Just Jaune, alone with the field telephone and his guilt.

Once his moment was up he quickly dialled one other number, giving an update to his family: that he was safe and sound, and that he couldn't come home for a little while yet. Nothing about what he planned to do next. Nothing about how much danger he was about to put himself in.

Once that was done he left, searching for his section. Cardin had been right: if he'd asked his team to help him, they'd have gladly dropped everything and come to his side. But that would have meant leaving behind Beacon and everything they'd ever worked for. He couldn't ask them to do that. Not when this wasn't their fight—not really; they weren't even proper Huntsmen yet. Not when Salem's words still rung through his mind like a death knell at a funeral: to find and kill everyone he cared about. At least in Vale they might still be able to make a difference without throwing their dreams away. And he hadn't been lying about that: Vale really did need protecting from whomever this Cinder person was. But if it kept them much safer than going after Salem, then that was only a bonus.

Besides, Pyrrha had been wrong. He wasn't alone.

Now it was time to do something really stupid.

Boom. Team NPR finally happened people. You happy? This reunion was obviously a long time coming, but many of you may have actually hoped it would go differently. Now, I understand if you were hoping NPR would join Jaune in the field, maybe helping him to win the war and beat Watts, Salem and everyone else, but... I actually don't want them in that position, simply because that's too easy. If Jaune just immediately goes back to team JNPR and it's like nothing has ever happened, then what was the point of the story? How have the characters developed in any meaningful way? No, this story is not about team JNPR; it's about Beta section. Don't get me wrong, NPR will still play their part and I will certainly be writing from their viewpoint at times from now on, so don't worry about that. But I don't think it's time yet for them to get back together with Jaune. Besides, with so many villains just chilling around, it will be impossible for the heroes to beat them all if they're all together. They need to split up, divide and conquer, that kind of thing.

In other news, I actually have some fanart of some of the members of Beta section! Basically Buzz, Naomi, Cat and Aiden were created and gifted to me by an online friend of mine, and she's recently made a deviant art page with facts and pictures of them. There is a slight variation between her characters and the ones that appear in this story (mainly the fact that she made them to be Huntsmen, whilst they're just normal soldiers in this fic). If you guys want to see how they were originally created the link is:

h[tt]ps: / / wolfierocks45 . deviant art . c[om] / journal / 8 - O C - Facts - 74[66]78[56]4

...without any spaces or square brackets [] (those were just so I could get the URL in because this site doesn't like links). Please do check it out and give your support to someone who has been so unbelievably helpful with this story.