AN: IIIII'MMMMMM BAAAACCCCKKKKK
I may be posting a bit more regularly for a bit.
But probably not.
Sorry, but that's just how I am.
Ch42:OH COME ON!
(Tues, Y+1, M+5, D+4)
[The Cave]
'"We should do this more often."' Neo tells me, a grin on her face.
"I don't see why not." I say, picking up my (now fully clothed) girlfriend and kissing her on the lips. "We should get going, I don't want to miss breakfast." I say, putting Neo down so we could go and get food. I take her hand and we happily walk to the cafeteria after I text Ivan and Sven to let them know that we're on our way. I clip my helmet to my belt and we head on our way.
A few minutes later, we walk into the cafeteria and grab our food. Neo and I head over to our usual group of comrades, and we sit down right next to each other, Neo leaning happily on my right side.
"Sooo Kurt, how was last night?" Yang leers.
"Ivan." I say, turning to my comrade.
"Yes Kurt?" He responds, smirking.
"Five." I say, coldly staring at my traitorous teammate.
"Ummm." Ivan responds.
"Four." I pick up a can of soda and toss it up and down a few times.
"Shit."
"Three." I stand up, forcing neo to quickly rebalance herself.
"Shitshitshitshitshit." Ivan says, quickly getting out of his seat and rushing to get to cover.
"EAT SODA CAN YOU COMMIE BASTARD!" I shout, throwing the can at him as hard as I can. He quickly grabs a tray from a nearby table and tries to bring it up to block the can. He fails. The soda can hits him square in the chest and explodes in a grape-flavored cloud of carbonated beverage.
"Yess! Another food fight!" I hear Nora shout. 'Dear Murphy what hath I wrought.'
"Not again!" I hear someone shout, as pretty much every other student in the cafeteria bolts for the exits. Those who don't soon catch on and follow as fast as they possibly can.
I quickly grab a stick of bread from behind me and snap into two equal halves, holding the one in my left hand normally and the one in my right hand in a reverse grip. RWBY and JNPR Split to different sides of the room. Neo and I follow RWBY while Sven and Ivan follow JNPR.
Neo picks up a swordfish, twirling it much like her own umbrella.
Ivan picks up, and starts throwing, entire hams, bone and all.
Sven arms himself with a baguette.
Neo blocks and deflects the hams with her sword(fish), before rushing to duel Sven.
I stare down Ivan, dropping my baguette halves and grabbing a pair of hams from the air. I charge towards him as he grabs himself a pair of hams and we charge each other to engage in ham-to-ham combat.
"EAT HAM TRAITOR!" I bellow, wielding my hams in an exaggerated manner.
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHHHH!" Ivan screams incoherently, matching ham with ham.
He swings a ham at me which I block, bashing him in the face with my other ham.
"HAM!" I shout, bludgeoning him once, "HAM!" twice, "HAM!" three times. Ivan is down on the floor.
He swings one of his hams, swiping my legs out from under me and knocking me to the ground.
"HAHA! I! AM! VIC-" *BLUDGEON* Ivan proclaims victoriously upon jumping to his feet before I jump up as well and proceed to slap him in the face with one of my hams.
We both assume a fighting stance and prepare for one final duel. We hear the chaos surrounding us and we ignore it, focused solely on clubbing our opponent into the surprisingly clean white floor with a slab of pork stuck to an unidentified (probably leg) bone.
We both swing our hams with great force, aiming for the other's head.
In a flash, we are both thrown apart, a purple glow forcing us towards the sides of the room
"How many times must I tell you children not to play with your food." Goodwitch says, pushing her glasses back up her nose with a single finger, holding her riding crop in her other hand, pointed towards where Ivan and I used to be. "Kurt."
"Yes m'am." I say, standing up and stretching.
"What is the meaning of this?" She gestures to the (again) ruined cafeteria.
"I was instructing my teammate about the finer points of discretion m'am!" I snap to attention while answering her question before sitting down at a nearby table.
Goodwitch sighs and Ozpin walks in behind her, taking a sip from his ever-present mug.
"So this makes three." Ozpin says, looking around. "It amazes me how much damage the kids can do today." he says mirthfully. "Especially considering how we put an end to this one much faster than the other one."
I look around the rest of the cafeteria. The table that I'm sitting at stands alone in a veritable sea of ruined tables, chairs, soda machines, and scattered foodstuffs.
"What a waste." I mutter, still looking around.
I see Jaune hanging by a few forks that pinned his hoodie to the wall. Weiss has fallen face-first into the floor, covered in mustard. Ruby, Yang and Nora are laughing at each other, all covered in exploded soda cans and pie. Ivan and Sven chatting by the wall. neo is sitting on a ruined soda machine eating a bowl of iced cream, her clothes in exactly the same condition as it was in when the food fight started. Pyrrha is busy getting Jaune down from his perch and Ren is sitting across from me, sipping a cup of tea.
"I get the feeling that this will be an eventful day." Ren says calmly, resting the teacup on his palm.
"Me too. When do classes start today?"
"Classes have been cancelled due to the Festival."
"And nobody thought to tell me that rather important piece of intel." I chuckle. "Par for the course, I guess."
"There weren't any classes yesterday."
"I just thought it was because I'd just gone through some rather traumatic experiences. Medical leave, that kinda stuff." I smirk, pulling a bar of something-or-other from my greatcoat and tearing it open. I bite a piece of it off and start chewing.
"What is that?" Ren asks quizzically. "I've never seen any of those before." he says in his usual tone.
"Ration bar. Nicked a few from Sven." I swallow. "They don't really taste like much, but they're high in energy." I take another large bite. "And I think I'm gonna need that energy today."
"I can feel it too. It's as if the tension is building across the city."
"In preparation for the finalé." I say, feeling it too. We were like two radios on different frequencies, still receiving the same message.
"And not the good kind." Ren and I both say, creepily in sync. He smirks and I just laugh.
"It's always nice talking to you mein friend." I say, finishing off the ration bar and tossing the crumpled-up wrapper into a (surprisingly) intact trashcan.
"And you as well." He replies.
"I've got some free time to spend. And a Forgemaster to have a nice, long conversation with. Preferably while working on something." I say, walking out. '"I'm going to the forge. I want to talk with Stahl for a while."'
'"Alright. I'll text Ivan and the new guy. Sven, wasn't it?"'
'"Yep, just text them when they ask."'
'"Got it."'
'"Aufedersein."' I bamf to The Cave and retrieve Anne; Pearl was already strapped to my back below my greatcoat, hilt pointing down towards my belt. I strap Anne to my back as well and then bamf to the Forge, I walk inside to talk with my favorite teacher.
"Stahl. If you don't mind, I'd like to take you up on your offer to talk for a while." I walk up to the Forgemaster, who is hammering out a sword on an anvil. Without a hammer. Wearing steel gauntlets (which are actually part of his combat-wear) he swings his fist like a smith's hammer, small silver flashes of light sparking out when he stops the swing just above the sword.
"Sure. Are you just gonna stand around or do you want to work on something?" Stahl asks, looking over his shoulder at me.
"I've got a few ideas. First of all, I've got an idea for Anne and Pearl…" I say, walking over to the grinding wheel.
[A few hours later, still in the Forge.]
"You really need two of those?" Stahl asks, looking over my newest creation: a second Colt .45, made to mirror Marxman. It was forged from black steel, with a pair of bone-white panels on either side of the grip. Etched in dully glowing silver along the sides of the slide were these words:
A Cry for Help, a Distant Whisper/ A Foreign Nation Calling Our Name (Left side)
Sent to Hell, to Reach for Heaven/ To Serve in Dark, as LIGHT In The Black (Right side)
To some it might seem strange to etch that quote on a weapon, but to me it puts in words what I fight for.
"Yes, I do." I say, holding both weapons. Marxman in my left, shining silver. The newly named Light in my right, a dark reflection, albeit lacking a scope.
AN: The quote on Light is from the prelude to a song and the gun itself is an homage to a manga/OVA. Guess one or either and I will award you one free imaginary cookie and I may use your username as the basis for a character or two.
"Well, it does suit you. You're a good kid Kurt, if you ever need me I'll help you out. Try not to get yourself hurt." he says, sitting down on an unoccupied anvil. "You should get moving if you want to catch the tournament." He says, as I wipe Light down with a clean cloth.
"I guess I should. Thanks Stahl, see you later." I say, bamf'ing to The Cave to grab a second hip-holster for my weapon belt, along with a couple of extra magazines for Light. maybe I should make some black magazines, load them with something different. Dust rounds, maybe?
"Hey Kurt." I hear Ivan say from behind me. "How was the Forge?"
"I've got a new toy." I say, twirling Light gunslinger style. For safety reasons the gun is safed and the chamber is empty. After all, it would be rather embarrassing to shoot myself in the crotch. "I call it Light." I say, grabbing it by the barrel and handing it hilt-first to Ivan.
"You made this today?" Ivan asks.
"Most of it, I forged a few of the internal bits a while ago."
"I still can't get my head around how people just make their own weapons around here."
"You get used to it. It's actually quite nice. Fighting for your life with a weapon that you yourself forged. It's calming." I say, Ivan handing the pistol back.
"That scientist lady called. She wants to invite us over a day early."
"How nice of her. Did she give a number to call her back at."
"She's actually at the landing pads with a small escort."
"How small of an escort?" I ask, walking inside and grabbing a few things. Ivan follows me.
"Three dropships, four gunships, and two platoons of infantry. Ironwood isn't happy."
"I wouldn't expect him to be." I chuckle, clipping a holster to my right hip and sliding Light into it.
'"Neo?"'
'"Outside at the landing pads, looking at the small army Sven's friends brought along."'
'"On my way with Ivan."' I turn to Ivan, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Hold on."
Ivan sighs, resignedly.
*Bamf*
We appear in my usual cloud of purple-black smoke just off of the main causeway from Beacon to the landing pads. After all, I haven't figured out what happens if I bamf right into the same space as something else. And I don't want to.
"That's rather impressive." I say, a smile on my face as I see the force assembled before me.
The dropships, all three sitting on the landing pads, were all rather bulky, robust looking, crafts with what appeared to be VTOL engines, sliding panels to cover the troop bay, and a turreted, gatling gun under the nose.
The four gunships were hovering and circling above, close enough to remind us all that they were here. Each looked like it was based off a similar airframe to the dropships, but with a pair of downwards-angled wings from which hung a series of missile racks and a turreted autocannon. Mounted on either side of the fuselage near the front were a pair of turreted machine guns.
On the ground were two platoons of Alpha Company infantry, standing in two formations of four blocks of ten, each centered around what I assume is a five-man command team. Standing between the two groups was Doctor Grey, flanked by a pair of bodyguards wearing grey armor with red accents.
Attempting to surround this rather impressive display of military might was a display of Atlesian military might, two gunships hovering in the air above a handful of Atlesian soldiers backed up by a fair number of drones and a pair of Paladins. They looked like they were trying to intimidate the PMCs. The PMCs weren't buying it.
Looking at the whole thing, I got the feeling the Atlesians were outgunned.
'"Hey Kurt."' Neo walks up to me twirling her umbrella.
"Hey there Neo, looking forward to our little trip?" I say with a smirk, absentmindedly twirling a combat knife in my left hand.
'"Not as much as you are."' She answers, giggling.
"Quite right, my dear." I say, chuckling and heading towards Dr Grey. "C'mon, let's check the place out. Not much is goin' on here. I've always wanted to see a military base before. Should be fun."
'"Didn't they say that they'd be running a few tests on you?"'
"Yeah, but I'm not too worried." I say as we approach the Atlesian forces.
"Stop right there kids." An Atlesian officer commands. He, unlike his soldiers, appears to be wearing a dress uniform. Like an idiot.
"Let us through." I say calmly. "We have an appointment with the Alpha Company and it would be rude to keep them waiting."
"We have orders to keep them contained and not to let anyone through." The officer answers.
"Hmm. Little late for that." I say, pulling Ivan, Neo and Sven into what probably looks like an awkward team hug.
*bamf* We reappear standing before Dr. Grey.
"Initiate Hall reporting m'am." Sven barks, saluting.
"Hey Doc." I say, waving to Grey.
Grey laughs. "It's nice to see you kids too."
"So I take it our appointment has been moved up a day." I say to Grey.
"It has." She affirms. "There have been some unexpected developments as of late so my schedule has been compressed quite a bit. So if you kids would follow me, we can set off for Firebase Alpha." She and her escorts head for one of the gunships. "Come on, we don't have all day." She says in her usual singsong voice. We follow her and climb aboard the dropship, watching as the the Alpha Company troops load aboard their own crafts. Two squads and one command team per dropship and one squad per gunship. The armored bay doors remain open, giving us a neat view of the city, much like the one I got on the bullhead to Mountain Glenn.
AN: I'm getting tired of typing out Alpha Company, so I'm just going to abbreviate it as AC from now on.
We lift off with our escort and head off over the city. As we fly over the city Dr Grey starts going over what will comprise the tour. In this order: a tour of the labs, a short battery of tests, a tour of the rest of the facility and finally a short meeting with some higher-up. Sven knew what it was about but wasn't allowed to say.
Firebase Alpha is on the opposite side of the city from Beacon, in the industrial/warehouse district. Our transport circled the Firebase to give us a good look while the others peeled off to head somewhere else.
Firebase Alpha is a large complex of buildings enclosed by a squat wall topped by battlements complete with patrolling soldiers and bunkers. The complex is centered around what appears to be a command bunker and communications center. A large, half-buried building is positioned near the center of the compound, I can see a few jeeps and armored cars sitting outside. 'I guess that's the motor pool.' An even dozen landing pads are organized in two rows of six near a couple of small buildings that I assume are either hangers or storage. Four of the pads are still occupied, two by almost trident-like fighter craft, one by another dropship, and the fourth by a craft that screamed ground-attack fighter even before I managed to make out a pair of high-caliber gatling cannons mounted on either side of the fuselage. A large landing pad was positioned right next to the command center. A few other buildings are scattered around the compound whose purposes I cannot discern. A few other structures, however, I can divine very easily. Positioned carefully around the compound are a few bunkers with what appear to be doors on the tops, and a few small domes mounted on short towers. If my instincts are correct, these are anti-air emplacements. As a whole, it looked freaking awesome.
After the dropship lands and the loadmaster (who I had utterly failed to notice for the entire duration of the flight) gives us the OK, we exit the dropship and watch as a team of mechanics rush in and start working on the dropship, attaching pintle-mounted MGs to hardpoints in the dropship's cargo bay and making sure the craft was ready to fly again. We continue to watch for a little bit as the mechanics finish and two squads of troops rush aboard. Soon after, the dropship lifts off and heads off to somewhere or other.
"You guys sure seem busy today." I comment.
"We've received a lot of contracts recently. Mostly grimm attacks on small, out of the way towns that your council cannot afford to defend." One of Grey's escorts says, his voice dripping with anger. "Bunch of honorless cowards." He mutters.
"Farik." Dr. Grey warns, her voice almost creepily happy.
"S-Sorry m'am." Farik replies, sounding a bit terrified.
"What." I say flatly. "Did. You. Say."
"I'm sorry sir." He says a bit bitterly.
"No, before that. What were the council's exact words." I say, "About the citizens that they are supposed to be protecting." My voice is cold enough to freeze water.
"Oh. That. It seems that the council is refusing to send help because the hunters working there are still active, and since the towns are outside of their jurisdiction, all that they can do is forward their pleas for help to the Valean mission boards." Grey says, sounding dissonantly cheery and yet with an undertone of anger. I like Grey as a person, don't get me wrong, but dear Murphy she scares me sometimes.
"So, what's next?" I ask the good Doctor.
"First we need to stop by security to log your weapons." She says. I cringe. "Are you alright Kurt?" She asks, noticing my discomfort.
"Yeah, I just don't feel right going around without Marxman, and going around totally unarmed is damn near horrifying." I say, laughing nervously a bit.
"You're just being paranoid Kurt." Sven says, gesturing around.
"And proud of it." I say, interrupting him.
Sven sighs. "But you don't have to worry, logging your weapons just means that we know what you're carrying. We're paranoid too."
"And it pays off concerningly often." Farik comments.
We approach a bunker-like building buried half in the ground. The entire base, from the walls to the buildings, looks like they were both prefabricated and designed to resist a full tactical assault. Maybe even a strategic assault if the builders knew what they were doing (and it sure as hell looks like they do).
We enter the security center, connected to the command center.
Inside are a few fully armored soldiers sitting behind a desk that could probably double as a bunker if required. On a few racks behind the desk were various small arms: pistols, SMGs, shotguns, carbines and even a pair of what appear to be LMGs. Both are typing away on personal computers.
"Why aren't you guys using Mosaics?" I ask Grey, Mosaics being PC-style scrolls.
"The Alpha Company never uses the local 'net, we use our own. After all, it's much more difficult to hack a system that you've never seen."
"Makes sense." I say as Dr Grey stands in front of one of the soldiers at the desk.
"Sergeant. I have three visitors to log."
"Yes m'am." He says, his voice distorted a bit by his helmet's speakers. "Name." He says, looking at me.
"Kurt Wagner sir! Leader of Team K(rak)INS, from Beacon Academy."
"Cute." The Sergeant says dryly. "What're you carrying kid?" The older-sounding warrior asks."Just put them on the counter for logging.
"Even the ammo?"
"No, just the weapons will be fine."
A couple of minutes later.
"I'm impressed." Is all the Sergeant says, dutifully logging each and every knife, pistol, explosive charge and grenade.
"I try sir." I say.
"No need to be so formal." The Sergeant says, dismissively waving a hand. "I've got it all logged, you can take it back." He says. "Alright, who's next?"
Not long after, we'd gotten everything logged and taken care of and we were on our way to Dr. Grey's labs. We enter one of the buildings and descend underground in an elevator.
"Fancy. And a bit unexpected." I notice how long we've been in the elevator, and how fast it has been going. "How far down are we?"
"Far enough." Is all Grey says, smirking.
"Alright then." I respond.
With a muted *ding* we reach our destination: Floor B-5, Rec centers and labs.
"Rather strange pair of things to put on the same floor." I say.
"Actually, it's rather smart of the builders." Farik says, taking his helmet off. He is a younger man with tanned skin, crew-cut black hair, a black goatee, and blue eyes. "If the troops are going to defend anywhere like their life depends on it, that place would be the only spot on the base where you're allowed to get booze." He says, gesturing into a room, which is set up like a sports bar, complete with the big TVs showing…
"Can we stop the tour for a bit? The tournament's on. It looks like Pyrrha's up against Penny and I don't want to miss this." I ask/tell the good doctor.
She looks at her watch. "We've got the time. Sure."
We walk into the room, my teammates and I take seats at a booth with a good view of one of the many screens.
Grey and her escorts sit at another booth right next to us. Her escorts immediately start staring at the screens along with us. Grey, on the other hand, divides her time between watching us and watching the tournament.
I focus on the screen, seeing Penny greet Pyrrha. Soon after that, the fight starts, showing various camera shots from multiple angles. Probably some poor person watching a dozen feeds and trying to pick the best view.
I see Penny and Pyrrha trade blows, and am more than impressed by Penny's swords. Technically their plasma/laser form but still, it's freaking awesome.
The fight progresses, with neither Pyrrha nor Penny gaining any advantage to speak of. Eventually, Penny knocks Milo and Akuo away, summoning her swords above her, to strike the final blow and win the match. I figured that Pyrrha could use her semblance to deflect the swords or return them to strike their owner.
Pyrrha raises her arms and looks on in terror. It was a face unlike any I'd ever seen on her before. I'd seen her face down Grimm with far more steel in her eyes than she was showing now. Penny launches her attack, sending her swords unerringly towards Pyrrha.
As I predicted, she uses her semblance. Not as I predicted, she uses far too much force. Penny's swords, apparently controlled by wires, fly backwards and wrap themselves around Penny's limbs and torso. Then the shear straight through to reveal a mess of dust-powered wires, circuits and servos.
"Oh shit." One soldier says.
"The hell? The kid's a synth!" Another echoes.
The screen flickers for a second before a rather irritating voice emanates from the speakers.
"This is not a tragedy. This was not an accident. This is what happens when you hand over your trust, your safety, your children, to men who claim to be our guardians, but are, in reality, nothing more than men. Our Academies' Headmasters wield more power than most armies, and one was audacious enough to control both." Cinder starts preaching. "They cling to this power in the name of peace, and yet, what do we have here? One nation's attempt at a synthetic army, mercilessly torn apart by another's star pupil. What need would Atlas have for a soldier disguised as an innocent little girl? I don't think the Grimm can tell the difference." She says, around the room, soldiers are wondering what the hell is going on. " And what, I ask you, is Ozpin teaching his students? First a dismemberment, now this? Huntsmen and Huntresses should carry themselves with honor and mercy, yet I have witnessed neither. Perhaps Ozpin felt as though defeating Atlas in the Tournament would help people forget his colossal failure to protect Vale when the Grimm invaded its streets. Or perhaps this was his message to the tyrannical dictator that has occupied an unsuspecting kingdom with armed forces. Maybe it was to the mercenaries that carry themselves like they answer to a kingdom. Honestly, I haven't the slightest clue as to who is right and who is wrong. But I know the existence of peace is fragile, and the leaders of our kingdoms conduct their business with iron gloves. As someone who hails from Mistral, I can assure you the situation there is... equally undesirable. Our Kingdoms are on the brink of war, yet we, the citizens, are left in the dark. So I ask you: When the first shots are fired... who do you think you can trust?" Cinder ends her tirade and right afterwards an air-raid siren sounds. Soldiers leap up from their tables, scattering glasses, food and dishes. Then, almost as one, they rush to the exits, whatever weapons they carry on their person in their hands. Even the bartenders and cook staff are in motion.
"What's going on?" I shout to Sven, making my voice clear over the keening wail and the clatter of armored bootsoles.
"We're under attack." Sven replies, donning his helmet. Quickly Farik and I follow suit. "That seiren means red alert. Combat imminent or ongoing." He says as he leads the way out, Grey and her guards moving with us.
"We should take the freight elevator. It's this way." Grey's other guard says, as she takes the lead. We make our way to a rather crowded freight elevator already holding at least two dozen soldiers in various states of armament: from fully kitted out to only wearing their rubberized-fabric type bodysuits and carrying whatever weapon they had on them at the time. I look at the little lights telling us our location and destination. We were almost to level B-1: Armory and Motor Pool.
We reach our destination and a tone sounds as the doors slide open. Grey's second guard, her name still unknown, leads us to a room labeled Rally Room Bravo. Inside the medium-sized room were four sergeants with mil-spec tablets sending troops to various locations.
"Sergeant!" Farik says, snapping to attention. "Two Legionnaires, one Initiate, three Hunter cadets, and a Company scientist." He reports.
"Doc goes to safe-room Echo, the rest of you rendezvous with the Prefect. Apparently he needs a few extra guns for something or other. He's in motor pool Alpha, getting a small convoy organized." The Sergeant says, and Sven leads us off towards the Prefect.
"Who's the Prefect again?" I ask Sven.
"You remember the soldier we met in the Headmaster's tower? The one with the Storm Eagles and black and purple armor?" Sven says.
"Yeah. That was him?" I reply.
"Sure as hell was him. What did you think of him?"
"He looked like quite the badass and from what I could tell, he earned that title." I say. "Looked like he'd seen it all. It was definitely the eyes."
"Yeah, he's been fighting a while. The soldiers he was with are fireteam Ignis, they've been assigned to work with him since before I was born."
"So I take it that they're some of the best."
"If not the very best."
"This is gonna be rather fun." I say, grinning under my helmet.
"You alright kid?" Farik asks.
"Yep. Just a bit excited to see how they fight. Ignis and the Prefect, that is." I reply. "And also a combination of terrified and pissed off."
"Why would that be?" Farik asks, as he and his partner start making some last-minute equipment checks while simultaneously on the move.
"Well if the alarms are going off then the city is likely under attack. And there are two likely candidates: the Grimm and the White Fang. Both of which piss me off to no end. And if the city is under attack, then my family and friends are in danger too. Which is, to be honest, quite a bit terrifying. And if anything happens to my friends or family, whoever hurt them will be in a rather unpleasant situation." I say, following the Legionnaires' lead and checking that my personal arsenal is all where I left it and in working order. I pull Blue Death from its place on my lower back and depress the transformation studs to shift it from storage mode to its AR form. I pull back on the bolt to load a round into the chamber but leave the safety on. We enter the Motor Pool
'"What're those?"' Neo asks, pointing at a row of four vehicles with her parasol. We both slow down a bit. There are four more rows of the same vehicles. Three of four and one of three. An entire armored company. 'Impressive.' Crewmen, wearing light armor with visored helmets open from the nose down and wearing assorted colors of bandannas around their necks, are already rushing to their vehicles and starting them up. Without the distinctive sound and smell of internal combustion engines, I note excitedly.
"That, my dear Neo. Is a tank. Although that barrel is rather different than what I'm used to." I say, noting the fact that the barrel is definitely much more squared-off and angular than I remember. The others slow down to keep pace.
"That's because it's a railgun." Sven says, while Farik and his comrade look at us quizzically. Or at least I imagine that's what they were doing below their helmets. Rather hard to tell what someone's feeling when you can't see their face. Although I guess that's the point. I tap my head, just above my ear.
"Telepathy." I explain. Farik and his companion shake their heads and return their gaze to the path ahead.
'"What's a railgun?"' Neo asks me.
"It's a gun that uses magnets to launch a projectile instead of a chemical reaction. They are so powerful that they can turn the air behind them into plasma." I say, even more excited. "And I don't hear diesels, what's the engine use?"
"They use electric motors powered by low-rad batteries." Sven says.
"Radiation?!" I say, flinching irrationally.
"It's shielded very heavily. And naturally emits a form of radiation that dissipates very rapidly in air. Don't ask how, it's classified. And I don't know." Sven answers.
"I want one. Or two. Maybe five? Twenty? Hell, just gimme an entire damn division!" I say, spreading my arms widely, palms raised towards the ceiling and pulling a 360 spin.
"Sorry kid, these babies ain't for sale." A crewman laughs. I shake my head and keep following Sven.
After another minute or so we reach our destination.
The Prefect, Brimstone if memory serves, is currently addressing a group of soldiers. Among them are Ignis, a number of crewmen and women, and eight soldiers wearing the same armor as Farik and his companion.
"So the rest of our band finally arrives. Good. I take it that you three are Initate Hall's teammates?"
"Yes sir. We are." I reply, standing at attention. Or some semblance thereof.
"Buckets off, I want to know who I'm fighting with." Brimstone says. I look around and realize that everyone's helmets are either clipped to their belts or held in their hands.
"Jawohl Prefect." I say, pulling off my helmet with a reassuring snap-hiss. Farik, his partner, Sven and Ivan follow suit.
"Good. As I was saying, this entire place is going to hell. The heaviest combat appears to be centered around Beacon Academy, which we believe will have to be evacuated or leveled by the time that this entire shitshow sorts itself out. About 100 meters below the Headmaster's tower-slash-integral part of the planetary comms array lies a rather important piece of Alpha Company property that will be retrieved at all costs before the situation can devolve any further. As for our transportation, we're going by land, heavy armored and mechanized escort. If we could insert by air I would have done so, but seeing as all of our combat aircraft are just barely holding air parity over this area of the city, even gunships would have a difficult time getting to the academy. Our convoy will consist of a core unit of one platoon of assault jeeps and two MRAPs supported by a platoon of tanks and two mechanized infantry platoons. The Legionnaires will be riding together in the second vehicle and the cadets will be riding with us in the first. Dismissed." The Prefect gives the short pre-mission briefing. After that the various soldiers and crews rush to their vehicles.
We follow Ignis and Brimstone to our MRAP, a boxy armored vehicle with reinforced windows and firing ports, along with a remote-controlled minigun mounted just behind the driver's compartment.
We mount the vehicle through a pair of doors in the back. On either side of the vehicle was another door for each crewman and another door on each side near the middle for rapid exits.
We sit on the left row of seats, while Ignis and Brimstone sit on the right. I feel the MRAp jerk into movement and start to slowly roll along.
"So kids, you're probably wondering why I'm bringing you along instead of actual soldiers." Brimstone says.
We nod.
"Well, then you'll just have to wait. But I will tell you this: I'm looking forward to fighting alongside you four." Brimstone says, unclipping his helmet from his belt. He turns it around a few times in his hands and looks inside. "Do you three have comms?"
"I've got my scroll's speakers tied into my helmet. If someone calls up my scroll I can talk without having to take it off." I say.
"Not secure enough. All of your comms rout through the CCT. If someone hacks in or takes it down, comms are compromised. Take these." He says, pulling three earpieces from his armored web gear. "Just click your teeth twice to talk." He explains. "Don't worry about power, these things last weeks."
Ivan, Neo and I slip them into our ears. Everyone save Neo helmets up and I hear a barely discernable static in the earpiece.
"Comm back if you hear me." Brimstone orders. One by one we report back, those who can at least. "And you Miss… Neo, was it?"
'"Tell him I can hear him."'
"She can hear you sir. She's just mute."
"Ah. Does she have any way to communicate?" Brimstone asks, after a slight pause. Probably trying to figure out how to rectify the situation.
"I can hear her. Some sort of two-way telepathic connection. Don't ask how I've got no clue." I answer.
Brimstone thinks for a second. "Alright you two pair up. Initiate Hall and your other comrade-"
"It's Ivan sir. Ivan Redovitch." Ivan answers, his accent thicker than usual. The other passengers go silent for a second.
"As I was saying, Initiate Hall and Mister Redovitch will be paired together. Ignis One and Two and Ignis Three and Four will be paired together." The soldiers waved as their names were mentioned.
"And you, sir?" I ask.
"He'll be alright on his own." Ignis Two says. "Ain't that right sir?"
"Indeed Two. After all, somebody has to keep the 1st Cohort's torch burning."
"Cohort? Like the Roman Legions?" I ask, cocking my head a bit to the right.
"Not exactly. And this is not the time to get into further detail." Brimstone says.
I take his cue and look outside through one of the armored viewports. The convoy is forming up around us. Beyond the glorious display of military might is the city of Vale. It is, for the most part, on fire and covered in flying Grimm. It wasn't my fault.
"Hey team. You maaayy want to look outside. It's not good." I see Griffons flying through the air in swarms, silhouetted by the setting sun. Around us, flak cannons thump out their ceaseless rhythm, gatling guns buzz and missiles whoosh into the air to take out the Elder Nevermores. The city burns and the Grimm feast.
Gunshots can be heard echoing through the city.
Vale was at war and we were right in the middle of it.