Hey guys! I'm writing this from the good ol' U S of A, courtesy of a holiday to this fine country that only recently celebrated its hatred of my country and everything it stands for. That's what 4th of July is about, isn't it? ;)

"The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him"

G.K. Chesterton

Chapter Twenty—The Last Supper

Salem had to be stopped.

The thought clanged through Jaune like a funeral bell, the sound heralding approaching doom, though whether that be for Salem, Jaune or something else entirely he couldn't tell. He was scared. Of course he was. He was willingly about to walk into the Ursa's lair to take on the embodiment of all evil on Remnant. But his pace didn't once falter, his feet never once tripping. A determination to put an end to that nightmare woman kept his heart from freezing and his limbs from locking. Jaune had seen first-hand what this war had brought to civilians. The bodies in that ghost village Cardin had shown him earlier still swam hauntingly through his mind. If Salem successfully used Atlas to invade Vale, would that be the fate of Vale too? Would the graveyard village become a graveyard Kingdom?

No. It wouldn't. Because Jaune wouldn't let it. Jaune was still in the dark about so much, but one thing was for certain: he had to stop her.

But he couldn't do it alone.

The military base was just settling down for dinner as Jaune picked his way around the mess of emerging tunnel openings that poked their snouts through the ground, looking for his section. The compound did apparently have a mess hall, but with so many troops on site it was unbearably crowded, leaving most people to prefer to take their rations and eat them with their sections outside. Beta section had been one such section to do so, and they now sat a little distance away behind a copse of sheltering trees around a campfire. As Jaune approached the trees surrounding them, an assortment of aromas wafted over to him from the various ration packets that consisted of Beta section's dinner. So too did a chorus of grumbling voices, complaining about the afore mentioned dinner.

"I swear to god, the army is trying to poison us all," moaned Cat, poking at a particularly lumpy meal in her rat pack.

"Man do I miss Jasmine's cooking," muttered Finn glumly as he inspected a spoonful of an as yet unidentified substance.

"The ration packets are designed to contain 100% of one's daily nutritional intake in order to keep one fit and healthy in the field," intoned Naomi.

"Take a bite of this, Nuke," snapped Cat, "and tell me that once you're finished puking your guts up."

Naomi took a bite of her own meal and grimaced. "Well I never said food with a high nutritional value was necessarily palatable."

Jaune smiled. He wasn't quite sure why he did it, but something made him crouch down in the shadows of the trees and simply watch his section as they bickered and bantered. The sun was just setting, bathing Jaune's hiding spot with long shadows and leaving him almost invisible to his section, whilst he still had a perfectly good view of them and their campfire-illuminated features.

"No idea what you lot are complaining about," mumbled Bounty around a mouthful of food, merrily digging into at least two different packs. "This stuff is great!"

"You're shitting me, right?" demanded Cat. "How can you actually like this crap?"

"I think you're forgetting who you're talking to," piped up Finn. "Bounty would eat anything if you dumped it on a plate and called it dinner."

"That's not true!"

"Didn't I see you eat a rock before?" asked Phil.

"For the last time: that was a dare!" exclaimed Bounty. The group laughed good-naturedly at Bounty's exasperation, and more so at his revelation. "What about you, Terrier?" asked Bounty, changing the focus to the lankiest member of their team. "You're our resident military textbook. What's your opinion on the rat packs?"

Terry glanced up from where he'd been staring at his meal, his eyes going wide behind his blond curtains, looking for all the world like a deer caught in the headlights of the monster truck that was Bounty. But then a hesitant grin split his pale face. "I think the person who invented the tuna in light mayonnaise rat pack ought not only to be shot on the spot for crimes against humanity, but also have his name stripped from all history books so as to not taint modern culture with his monstrosity."

"Here, here!" cried Cat, clapping Terry on the back and grinning wildly, though she looked secretly shocked that Terry of all people had said such a thing.

"Heresy!" gasped Bounty, his mouth agape in mock horror. "I like tuna light mayo."

"I think we just found the root of what's wrong with you then," joked Cat, to which the section laughed. Jaune laughed quietly along with them, relieved that Terry had finally begun to be accepted into the group, though also suppressing a shudder at the same time. Tuna light mayo… there were some things man was never meant to utter under the light of day.

"Hey, I just noticed something," said Terry. "Almost all of us here have nicknames, except for you three." He pointed to Cat, Bounty and Aiden. "I'm Terrier, Finn's Flea, Phil's Lightning, Naomi's Nuke. What should your nicknames be?"

"Cat's already a nickname," admitted Cat.

"It is?" asked Naomi, eyebrows raised. "What's your real name?"

"Casey. Casey Wentz."

"Casey…" said Bounty, tasting the name on his lips. Then his face split into a shit-eating grin. "That's a shite name."

"Prick."

"Indeed I am."

"What about you then, hothead? You got a nickname?"

"So you admit I'm hot?" grinned Bounty, one eyebrow raised mischievously.

Cat opened her mouth as if to shut Bounty down, but then she paused, and a seductive smile overtook her features, even as her eyes glinted with the challenge. "Oh sure, baby. You know I'm head over heels for you and that dashing potbelly of yours…"

The reaction of Beta section to this latest development was… mixed to say the least. Some members recoiled in horror at the shameless flirting between Bounty and Cat, whilst others leaned in closer to get a better view of the unfolding spectacle. First among those leaners was none other than Bounty himself, who, not to be outdone, teased, "Oh Cat, I had no idea you were so into middle-aged, overweight men. You should have said…" And in a move Jaune would be unable to bleach from his mind for all the remainder of eternity, Bounty spread his legs wide, then slowly, scandalously brought one leg to rest on top of the other, shamelessly exposing his crotch for an unnecessarily long amount of time and seductively fluttering his eyelashes at Cat.

For what had to be the first, and potentially the last time Jaune would ever witness, Cat was utterly speechless.

Sensing victory was close at hand, Bounty undid the top few buttons of his combat uniform and pulled his shirt underneath down, revealing several inches too much of hairy skin, before leaning alluringly forward so that Cat was exposed to the full length of his bare upper chest. He put his hand to his lips and blew her a seductive kiss, whispering, "Come find me later tonight, baby, and I'll show you what a good time really feels like."

For a moment, Jaune honestly thought Cat would throw up right then and there.

Bounty exploded into laughter, unable to hold in his cackling anymore. The great bellowing sound seemed to snap the rest of Beta section out of their trance, and soon the whole camp was snickering too. Well, everyone except Cat, that was.

Even Aiden couldn't help but chuckle at Bounty's sultry behaviour, and even more so at Cat's ashen face. "I notice you have avoided the original question, Bounty," he pointed out.

Bounty shrugged. "Nothing to avoid. I don't have any nicknames. And you sure as hell ain't giving me one, Terrier," he quickly added, noticing the way Terry's eyes had lit up.

"Is that so?" smirked Naomi. "With a name as pretentious as Bounty, I'd have assumed only someone as bombastic as you would have deigned to be called that. I hadn't realised egomania was hereditary."

"One: I have no idea what half those words mean, and you know it, and two: I'll have you know Bounty's my surname, so joke's on you, smartass."

"What's your real name?" asked Phil.

"That is for me to know, and you to bloody well mind your own business," snapped Bounty.

"Come on, you can tell us," encouraged Terry.

"Not a chance in hell."

"Is it George?"

"Nope."

"Thomas?"

"Not even close."

"Peter, Barry, John, Jasper…"

"I notice Aiden's being quiet," piped up Phil, ignoring Terry as he continued to spout random names at Bounty. "Maybe he's hiding a nickname."

"Aiden's always quiet," pointed out Naomi.

"That's kind of his thing," added Finn.

Phil's face fell. "Well, yeah but, I mean, he still might be hiding something. Like, a secret name he doesn't want to tell us about, y'know?"

"Alas, no. I simply have no nickname," explained Aiden. "For whatever reason Sergeant Cole did not decide to name me, unlike most of you."

Jaune felt the shift. In an instant Terry had fallen silent from listing names, Cat had stopped poking her food to look up at Aiden, and Bounty's grin had been wiped off his face. A dark, sombre atmosphere settled over the group like a smog-choked cloud, smothering their jovialness. Their faces shifted from merry to contemplative at the mention of their former leader, and one by one their smiles slid off their faces.

Jaune closed his eyes and pictured the broad-shouldered, bald soldier, with his clipped moustache and tough exterior, underneath which lay a golden-hearted man who loved nothing better than a good laugh. Sergeant Cole had been the one who had trained them half to death in the initial weeks before the invasion, and who had gotten them out of the initial ambush when Atlas invaded at the cost of his own life. Jaune realised he'd never even been given the proper time to mourn for the brave man who had given his life for Jaune, taking the bullet that had been meant for him. And if he took his section with him to fight Salem… how many more people would he have to add to that list of mourning.

"I… I am sorry if I have ruined the mood by bringing up Sergeant Cole," apologised Aiden.

"Don't be stupid, it… we should have this talk," said Cat wearily, as if knowing this was necessary and yet dreading the memories it would resurface nonetheless. "We've been running for so long we never really had a chance to face what happened on that first day. Face… who we lost."

"Sergeant Cole was a good leader," said Terry, staring unseeingly into the fire. "I would have died a hundred times over if it wasn't for his training."

"Me too," agreed Bounty.

"I never liked him," admitted Finn. Caty shot a glare at him. "But…" he continued, meeting Cat's gaze, "if I ever manage to become even half the man he was, then it'll be because he showed me how to be better." A nod from Cat was the only sign that she accepted his words.

"He was an altruistic leader," said Naomi. "A benevolent one. Not that Jaune isn't, it's just… it's uncommon to find a leader as experienced as him who hasn't become calloused."

"Like Ash," said Aiden quietly. Silence descended on the group again.

"I've heard of professional Huntsmen losing their entire teams before," began Phil. "Most of them snapped. Or just given up. That Ash was able to keep going, keep moving forward even after he'd lost his entire section…"

"He was a stronger man than any of us," nodded Aiden.

"He hated us," declared Finn.

A dry chuckle from Cat. "He most certainly did. Grumpy old bugger."

"Biggest cynic I've ever met," agreed Bounty.

"That didn't stop him from sacrificing himself so we could survive the ambush," Terry reminded them.

"I doubt any of us have forgotten that," said Aiden.

There was a long pause after that as each member found themselves lost in their own memories of the first two casualties of their section. Then Bounty raised his mug. "To Cole and Ash: the two hardiest bastards I've ever known." The others raised their mugs to the toast and drank deeply. And in the shadows, even though Jaune didn't have mug himself, he joined in on the gesture.

It was while before anyone spoke again, and when they did, it was Naomi who broke the silence, quietly saying, "It's going to happen again."

"What is?" asked Cat.

"The fighting. The killing. The dying. It's all going to start again, isn't it?" Cat's silence rang loudly through the group.

"But… we've been through so much," Terry complained. "Surely the army will let us take a break for a bit."

Naomi shook her head. "I've heard we're being relocated tomorrow."

The group started, everyone talking at once. "Wait, the army won't even give us a day to recover?" demanded Phil. "That's… that's… that's so unfair!"

"No way. I need to see Jasmine. I need to see my wife."

"Why so soon?" whined Terry.

"This is war," Aiden cut in, silencing everyone else. "People are dying every day, and every day we do not fight is another one in which Atlas could invade Vale. If the line breaks because there were not enough men holding it, then it will be civilians who will bear the brunt of the casualties. That is why we must go tomorrow."

"Look on the bright side, Terrier," Bounty tried to reassure him. "I hear we're all gonna get medals for the hell we've been through."

"I don't care about medals," mumbled Terry.

"What? Why not? That'll be a great way to prove to your deadbeat old man that you're a good soldier."

"I don't care about my dad!" Terry suddenly shouted. Jaune stared at him. So did everyone else. Since day one Terry had been trying to prove himself in the army. He'd later admitted that it had been in an attempt to demonstrate his worth to his father, who had been a soldier before him. To hear that Terry didn't care about gaining the admiration of his father anymore… Even Terry seemed to notice what a shocking revelation he'd admitted, going slightly red and beginning to stammer, "I—I mean, not anymore…" Terry groaned. "You're not going to let this one go until I've explained myself, are you?"

"Not a chance," grinned Bounty. "You started a story, you need to finish it now."

Terry sighed before continuing. "My dad's never been there for me. Never. For the first half of my life he was too busy on the battlefield, and for the second half he was too busy at the bottom of a bottle. Being away from him for so long, having time to think instead of trying to get him to notice me… I've realised he'll never be impressed with me. And you know what… I don't care. He doesn't deserve my effort, or my time. So from now on, I'm not wasting another second doing things for him."

"Damn straight," cheered Cat.

"But… but with you guys… you're different. You've always just accepted my place in this section, never asking for anything in return. And I guess I never really thanked you guys for that. For being the first people who accepted me as I was. Don't get me wrong, you guys still make me want to be a better soldier, a better person. But not because I feel I need to prove anything to you, but because I don't want to let you down."

"You're one of Beta section," Phil smiled. "That makes us a team."

"Yeah," replied Terry, and at this his voice caught. "It's just… when I think about how we have to go into the line of fire tomorrow… how the fighting's going to start again… and I think about everyone we've already lost, and who we still have to lose… I can't help but wonder…" Terry choked off.

Naomi finished his sentence. "How many of us will walk back out again?" she whispered.

And there it was—the question Jaune was too afraid to ask himself.

So far, through a combination of planning, teamwork, skill and a whole airship worth of luck, they'd managed to stay one step ahead of their demise, constantly skipping just ahead of its snatching claws. But if they kept going, if they kept dancing with Death, then how long would their luck hold? Cole, Ash, Buzz… what if they were simply the first in a long list of fatalities they were about to suffer? Could Jaune deal with losing even one more friend?

"Well whatever happens tomorrow," said Bounty, his voice unusually sincere, "at least we've got tonight together." He raised his mug once more. "To us."

"It's been one helluvan adventure, guys," said Phil, raising his mug alongside Bounty's. "Here's to hoping, y'know, it lasts a lot longer."

"You guys aren't as bad as I thought you were," added Finn, joining the toast. "So I guess I can't think of many better places to spend my last few days on Remnant. Except with Jasmine of course."

"You lot are a bunch of sappy losers," stated Cat, her arms crossed in front of her, unimpressed. Everyone waited. Bounty cocked an eyebrow at her. Naomi stared at her meaningfully. Finally, Cat gave an exasperated sigh. "Fine, fine, sunshine and rainbows and all that shit to you too." The others all joined in with the toast then, raising their mugs and clinking them together.

And in that moment, watching the genuine friendship between his section, Jaune knew he had his answer. He couldn't. He couldn't accept losing even one more friend. And yet he was about to ask his section to go with him on what was nothing short of a suicide mission. To beat Salem, he'd have to put his section, his friends, in unimaginable danger. He'd have to ask them to throw away whatever commendations or standings with the army they had to go behind the military's back and leave to find Salem. Even if they succeeded the army might think that they had abandoned their duty to escape the war. They would be labelled as traitors, stripped of whatever respect they'd earned and potentially court marshalled. And that was assuming they even managed to find and defeat Salem. If his men decided to come with him, their lives would be ruined. Besides, he wasn't even their sergeant anymore, he remembered glumly, feeling for the rank slide on his chest that he knew wasn't there. He had no right to command them to do anything.

The sad thing was, he knew they'd follow him anyway. He knew that if he asked them to join him, they'd do it in a heartbeat, not because they were brave or noble or strong. But because they trusted him. Because rank slide or not, he knew they'd still see him as their leader. Because after everything they'd been through together, they felt like they owed something to Jaune.

Jaune knew that if he asked them to join him, they'd feel obliged to do so.

So he wouldn't.

He wouldn't force them to choose between their lives and their loyalty to Jaune. He wouldn't leave their careers in tatters to go on one of his crusades, especially if it would very likely end in their deaths. He wouldn't tell them where he was going. And if, when they did find out, they ended up hating him for abandoning them… then Jaune could live with that, knowing they were still alive and well.

This was different to when he'd abandoned team JNPR. That had been a selfish, cowardly act, done simply because he was too scared to face the consequences of his actions, despite what he might have told himself. But leaving Beta section behind… this was for them. So that they could live.

But there was one person Jaune couldn't do this without.

He rose to his feet from where he'd been crouching in the dark, stretching his aching muscles, then strolled into the circle, as if he hadn't spent the last fifteen minutes listening in on their conversation.

"Hey Sarge," smirked Cat. "Have you decided to grace us with your humble presence yet?"

"I'm not your sergeant anymore," he said evenly.

Cat blinked. Terry recoiled. Naomi looked. "You don't possess the rank slide anymore," she realised. "Command took it?" Jaune nodded stiffly.

"Damn, Jaune, that's harsh," whistled Bounty. "You look like you could use a drink. It's not quite a hard shot, but I suppose black coffee's better than nothing."

"Thanks, but I'm fine. Really," Jaune lied. "I came to tell you guys that from tomorrow morning onwards you'll be under the command of Field Sergeant Cardin Winchester—"

"That prick?" demanded Cat. "Which idiot decided that was a good idea."

"I know it's not ideal, but please guys, you have to try to get along with him."

"You said 'you'," Aiden said. Everyone looked at him, then at Jaune. "Twice. Do you not mean 'we will be under his command' and 'we have to try to get along with him'?"

Jaune bit back a frustrated growl at his carelessness, instead fixing a smile to his face. "Sorry, that's right: we have to try to get on with him." His save seemed to work for most of the others, who went back to grumbling about everything, but Aiden was still peering at him as he turned to Phil and said to him, "We need to talk."

"Me?" squeaked Phil. "Am I in trouble?"

"Of course not." Jaune tried to keep his face neutral. "I just… really need to talk to you." Phil shrugged, then got to his feet and followed Jaune as he left the bonfire. With a painful twang in his gut, Jaune realised this might be the last time he'd ever see his friends again. After everything they'd been through, it felt so surreal to be finally parting ways with them, possibly for good. He turned back to have one last look at the people he'd called his section. There was Bounty, laughing uproariously at something Finn had said, shattering the sombre mood that had just hung over the group. There was Cat, trying to maintain a stern expression as she held back laughter. There was Naomi, watching her team's shenanigans with a small smile splayed across her face. There was Terry attempting to make a joke which inevitably fell flat, but still managed to seem hilarious to him. And there was Aiden, the wolf Faunus silently watching Jaune and Phil, as if sensing something was off about them.

Phil coughed. "Are we going somewhere, or…"

"Sorry. Just got lost in thought for a moment. Let's go."

Jaune took the two of them away from their section's makeshift camp, until they were out of even Aiden's impressive hearing range. Then Jaune stopped them and turned to Phil.

"So, uh, if there a reason you brought me out here?"

"Yes." Jaune took a deep breath. "We're going after Salem." Phillip's jaw plonked open. "I know it sounds crazy," Jaune hurriedly continued, "and maybe I sound stupid for believing it, but I know Salem is bad news. I can't explain how, but I just know she's behind the war. Call it a gut feeling, but my intuition says she's dangerous so—"

"I'm in," interrupted Phil. Jaune faltered.

"You… you are?"

"Sure. You said it's a gut feeling, then I trust it. You were trained as a Huntsman, Jaune. If your gut tells you something, then you sure darn listen to it."

Huh. That had been easier than expected. Jaune had thought he would have to spend at least some time convincing Phil of the threat Salem posed. Then again, Phil had seen Salem as well, and he was actually qualified to be a Huntsman. Seeing a scary, Grimm lady… maybe Phil had wanted to go after her as badly as Jaune had.

"Do you still have her coordinates from when you traced her call?" asked Jaune.

"Yup. Sure do. Just… one question. Why aren't you telling the others about this as well?"

Jaune took a deep breath. "They're not Huntsmen. Not like us. They don't have aura or any training against the Grimm whatsoever. If I ask them to come they'll just get hurt. Or worse."

"Maybe," admitted Phil, "but it's gonna be one hell of a task if it's just us two."

"I know, I just… I can't. It wouldn't be fair on them."

Phil shrugged, though his still looked troubled. "Alright then, you're the boss. So what's the plan?"

"First we take a ship and fly to wherever Salem is. I'll need you to pilot the bullhead—"

"A bullhead isn't gonna cut it," cut in Phil. "I'm not sure exactly where the coordinates lead, but they sure as hell aren't in Vale. We're gonna need something with a larger fuel capacity."

"Hmmm," Jaune did a 360 spin, looking for an alternative. "What about that one?"

Phil glanced at where he was pointing, then his face split into a wide grin. "Oh yeah, that ought to cut it."

"It's not really stealing from Vale if we brought it to them in the first place," grinned Jaune, glancing over the ex-General Watts' ship. If it had made it all the way from Atlas to Vale, then chances were it would be able to make the trip from Vale to Salem.

"So we've got our ride. Then what?"

"Once we reach Salem we find a way to take her out, and the war stops."

Phil winced. "Uh… that's not a hugely specific plan."

"We'll figure it out on the way then," Jaune conceded.

"Also, how do we know killing Salem will actually end the war."

Jaune blinked. "It... it has to. She's the one orchestrating the whole thing. If we cut off the head of the snake, the body dies, right?"

"Right… except this is a multi-headed snake, and if you cut off one head, the rest snap back twice as viciously."

"What do you mean?" asked Jaune, dread curdling in his stomach.

"Salem was calling the general of the entire Atlesian military, remember? Watts is clearly in on it, and who else knows how many underlings she has. Even if we beat her, what's to stop Watts from continuing the attack on his own?"

"I… I don't know," admitted Jaune. He hadn't even thought about Watts since their confrontation. But what could he do to stop him? He had the entire Atlesian military to defend him, and if Jaune went after Watts, who would stop Salem?

"I might have an idea," offered Phil reluctantly. Jaune looked at him hopefully. Phil was working his jaw, as if struggling to work up the confidence to offer his suggestion. But then he said, "If we can't stop Watts… then maybe someone else can whilst we go after Salem."

"Do you know someone who could do that?" Jaune demanded.

"Maybe," winced Phil. "Focus on how we'll beat Salem. I'll deal with beating Watts."

Jaune stared hard into Phil's eyes, then nodded. They were really doing this. "We'll leave in the night," he decided. "a couple of hours before dawn. Most of the base should be sleeping by then. Can you get onto contacting whoever you need to contact?"

Phil nodded, and a short while later he was inside the telephone tent, nervously wringing his free hand as the phone rang. When it was picked up, it was a young woman's voice which came through on the other side. "Hello?" she said.

"Hiya sis," replied Phil tentatively.

Psst, hey guys, remember that time I brought up an obscure character called Beatrice Blitz all that time ago and did nothing with her? Yeah, she'd kinda important now. Good luck remembering what the hell happened to her all those chapters ago.

So Jaune decides to leave his friends behind once again, thought this time I think his apprehension at asking his friends to give their lives for him is well founded. Ultimately, Jaune knows that Beta section would join him if he asked, but it wouldn't be because they necessarily wanted to save the world. It would be because he asked them to. It would be him dragging his section around on a suicide mission once again, just as they'd made it to relative safety. Is the risk to their lives worth beating Salem and saving Remnant? Yes. But don't forget that Jaune is a very emotional guy, and he values his friends immensely. He would never see his friends' lives as something he can gamble with. With Phil, it's slightly different (he has aura, training, a decent weapon and he is an ex-Huntsman, not to mention he's the only one who can fly an airship), but with the others, Jaune would rather leave them where it's safe and face Salem alone. It may seem stupid considering what's on the line, but that's the kind of character Jaune seems to be, at least to me: stupidly brave and noble. He'd rather throw his life away than let his friends get hurt, and that's what he thinks he's doing here.

Anyway, if you disagreed with my presentation of Jaune, or think his reasoning was a bit sketchy, feel free to tell me in a review. Or you can just rant for a couple of paragraphs about how much you despise me and everything I stand for if you really want. Whatever floats your boat. I'll be back in a fortnight. See ya!