A World of Wild Wild Evolution

by erttheking

Life in Remnant is about to change. Courier number 6 investigates something wrong at the isolated Big Mountain research facility and has his life turned upside down. Inspired by Light at the End by BlindingPhoenix

6. The Hanged Woman

Chapter 6

The Hanged Woman

XXXXX

James wasn't sure when exactly he had fallen asleep. He remembered wondering exactly what he was looking at when a delivery boy had knocked on his door with some kind of food in a box. A disc-shaped thing covered in cheese. At least that's what Winter called it, even though it looked like no cheese James had ever seen. Then he had tasted it and wondered how the hell anything could be that good. He also remembered showing Winter the ins and outs of EDI before sitting down on his bed to rest for a second. He didn't remember anything after that.

"It was probably then," he concluded. He felt a little stiff, most likely a side effect of sleeping in full armor, but still well rested. Stretching, he got to his feet. Daylight was creeping in through the window, it looked like the sun had just risen. Yawning, he got to his feet. The box of pizza was still lying open on the table, a single slice left in it. Picking it up, he looked at it before shrugging and taking a bite out of it. Even cold it still tasted pretty good.

"Awake?" ED-E asked, floating off of the counter and hovering around James's head. "You got lucky. She had just left when you passed out. Would've been a bit of a social faux pas if you had fallen asleep when we had company over." James nodded grimly, glad that he didn't have to provide an awkward apology. Though frankly, after a day of getting his ass handed to him by a teenager, spending hours upon hours being debriefed on the Legion and then giving a robotics lesson, he felt he had earned the right to be tired.

Scarfing down the rest of the pizza, he checked the time on his Pip-Boy. 6:30. Well if anything, he was up at a good time. Alternating to his scroll, he saw a couple of messages that had been sent to him around an hour ago. One from Ozpin, one from Ironwood. The one from Ironwood read "Mr. Walker. Winter spoke favorably of you and your willingness to cooperate. I'm glad to hear this. I understand you most likely had a rocky first impression of me, but I will need your help in a delicate matter. Winter will be by at 0700 with the details. I will not force you to help me, but I feel that it won't be in your nature to say no. No matter what Ozpin says."

Meanwhile, the message from Ozpin said, "James. I won't say too much over scrolls as they're not secure, but I encourage you to turn down Ironwood's offer. His heart is in the right place, but he has a bad tendency to rush in without thinking about the long-term consequences of his actions. His mindset is impulsive, equating swiftness with decisiveness, never considering the possibility of rashness. I have agents working in the field to help me come up with a more refined solution. I ask you to please not assist Ironwood in his endeavors, no matter how tempting they may seem. I assure you, he will do more harm than good if not kept in check."

Groaning, James approached his fridge, pulled out the bottle of whiskey he had taken from Juinor's bar, and took a heavy swing. That took the edge off of the stress and weariness that was starting to build up inside of him. "You ever get the feeling you're in the middle of a spat?" he asked, returning the bottle and closing the door. "I was hoping that one benefit from being in a mystical fantasy world would be a lack of politicking. No such luck it seems. Well, at least if it gets out of hand I've got a shotgun that'll let me take a quick way out." Shaking his head, partially at his own weak joke, he gave all of his weapons a quick look over, noted that the White Fang SMG still needed more ammo, and fastened them to his armor. He took one look at the White Fang SMG, turned it over in his hand, and then holstered it on his left side. Dual wielding SMGs was normally a rather idiotic move done by people who were trying to show off or didn't know what they were doing. Commonly both. Even the ambidextrous, which James was not, couldn't accurately aim an automatic weapon in both hands. But with the increased strength Aura gave him, he could probably pull it off.

"Actually, now that I think about it, I've never really stress tested this," he said. Well, he had tested the endurance aspect, that had gotten a rather brutal trial by fire when Pyrrha had fought him. Not the strength aspect, however. Curiosity getting the better of him, he knelt down in front of his bed, grabbed it, and attempted to lift it up. It felt like it weighed a fraction of what it probably did. He was easily able to get it up over his head, even when he shifted to one hand. "I'll be damned," he said, feeling shocked at the spike his strength had taken.

"So can just anyone get this Aura shit?" ED-E asked. "I mean, it probably doesn't work with robots because of the whole "soul" thing, but could you give it to everyone else? All our pals?"

The image of Lily somehow made even stronger floated through his mind. "Ozpin just said something about will being a factor," he said. "So maybe? I don't know if I could do it myself, there was some mumbo-jumbo incantation involved, and there's probably more to it than just saying the words." He shook his head. " I don't care what Ozpin says. When you say magic sounding words to create magic like powers, it's magic. It's not like psykers where there's a mutation in the brain or something. This just happens."

"To be fair, we don't know if psykers are real," ED-E said. "You and I only ever got second-hand accounts of that stuff."

"Lily seemed pretty sure that the Master was one," James argued. "And that kid at 188, there was something going on with him. He mentioned some stuff about me that would be pretty hard to guess if you didn't know me personally." Even as he said this out loud, even he couldn't help but feel it was a rather weak argument.

"Riiiiiiiight," ED-E said, James getting a small headache as the eyebot typed out I over and over again in Morse code. "By the way, I can see someone coming. They just popped up on my sensors. Probably Winter. Do me a favor and tell her that I'm not in the mood for dissection today." Deciding that he would very much not be telling Winter that, he crossed the room just as a sharp knocking came from the door. He slid it open.

"Ah, I see you're already prepared," Winter said from the other side, her eyes darting from gun to gun with clinical precision. "Good. Though I have to question the benefits of bringing so many firearms. Wouldn't it be more practical to only bring one or two? Even with Aura, overburdening yourself with too much is unwise, particularly with the large amounts of ammunition that you must be carrying."

James shrugged. "Never had a problem with it before. Besides, in my experience, you never know when you're gonna to get a moment to resupply. More often than not, it's off of the guy you just killed, and that's not a reliable source of ammo for the guns you have. So I'm the type of guy who likes to have all the ammunition I need to end a fight, and then some extra to be safe. I've been doing this for decades, I know how to make it work."

A small frown flashed on Winter's face and James could tell she disagreed with his decision. Thankfully though, she didn't pursue the subject. "On the topic of ammunition, I was told you might need these." She held up a bag of clean leather that James took. Peeking inside, he saw around a dozen magazines, all of which matched the one that was snugly loaded in his recently looted SMG. "Fire Dust rounds," Winter said, "I think you'll find them quite effective, more so than your other weapons. I have to admit, I never thought I'd see bullets that still used gunpowder outside of a museum."

"If you ever end up in my world, you can't go a mile without tripping over a bunch of them," James said, taking the bag and emptying it into his rucksack. "Thanks a million, I owe you big time for that one. By the way, the general said he wanted me to help with something?"

Winter nodded sourly. "Ozpin has an informant who is questionable with his professionalism but is nevertheless effective at intelligence gathering. He has been scouting out the area of the last White Fang attack and has found a trail that he has been following. At the moment he is still following the trail and while he can't confirm where the White Fang will strike next, we have narrowed it down to three nearby settlements. Atlas military forces have already started to move in and evacuate civilians from these areas."

"And we're gonna move in and hit the White Fang hard?" James asked. Winter nodded. "Ok, there is nothing in that plan that I'm not 110% on board with. The White Fang deserve it if the members of them I met represent the whole, and the Legion sure as shit deserves it. What do you need me to do?"

Winter produced her scroll from her pocket and held it up so that James could see it. "As I said, we don't know which of the three settlements the White Fang is going to attack. We need to strike a delicate balance. We need to position an ambush at each one without alerting the White Fang to our presence, lest they retreat and scatter. General Ironwood plans to station several military units at the various settlements with Huntsman and Huntress support. He also plans to permit students to volunteer."

"Wait, what?" James said. He remembered Ozpin's message and how he thought that Ironwood would do more harm than good. Well, he could certainly understand why Ozpin would think that this was a bad idea. "Ironwood suggested that?"

"Actually, it was Ozpin's idea," Winter said matter of factly. The narrative that had been forming in his head, the idea that Ironwood had been planning on sending Ozpin's students to the frontline without Ozpin's permission, spluttered and died. He had grabbed the wrong end of the stick, except it hadn't even been a stick, it had been the tail of a grumpy and hungry Deathclaw. He was very glad he had clarified the situation before he had opened his mouth and said something stupid. "In fact, Ozpin's idea was to send in just the students with the teachers to provide support."

"Wait, how does that make sense?" James asked. "If there's a terrorist organization out there and you know roughly where they're going to be, you want the army, don't you? I mean, just off of the top of my head, if I knew where a bunch of Fiends were going to hit and I could get a few squads of NCR soldiers to back me up, I would."

"I'm glad that you can see reason," Winter said, "because, for some reason, Ozpin doesn't on this matter. Not that I wish to speak ill of him, he is a very talented man with much to his name, but he seems to be very biased in this regard. He thinks a little too highly of his students and expects them to carry the weight of the world on their backs at times. I admit, they proved themselves during the attack on Vale, they are not incompetent, but they are very unrefined."

"God, if they're your idea of unrefined, that scares me a little," James said. "At some points, the war between the NCR and the Legion was getting so bad that the NCR was sending in sixteen-year-olds with two weeks of training to fight the Legion. It was a damn mess. Compared to them, Ozpin's students are damn masters of warfare."

"So, out of curiosity, do you support the idea of them being sent out to support Atlas's forces?" James blinked. Winter was staring at him intently, and he had a very bad feeling that she would remember it if he said something that she didn't agree with. He thought for a moment before deciding that, in this situation, the truth would be for the best.

"In limited amounts," he said. "I've seen what some of them can do, they're nothing short of amazing. But not all of them are like that. Even so, I think it's at the point that, even though they're young, you can't treat them like kids anymore. They fought off a terrorist attack and a horde of monsters. They've earned the respect that comes with that, and they've proven themselves capable of handling that kind of responsibility. The ones who were out there fighting nonetheless. Some of them," Cardin's smug face flashed before his mind's eye, "probably not."

"I see," Winter replied, her face maddeningly neutral. A pang of frustration shot through James. He wouldn't say he disliked Winter, she had her moments of charm, but she was extremely hard to read, and James felt utterly lost as to whether he was peaking her curiosity or pissing her off. It was nothing short of maddening. Sadly, it looked as if he would stay in the dark for some time. "I'll take that into consideration. Until then, General Ironwood is waiting for us. This way." She gestured and began to stride towards the center of campus. James made sure that ED-E was right behind him before he began to follow her.

"That's where we're heading," she said, pointing to a building right next to the one that James had taught in yesterday. As they moved towards it, a loud roaring noise filled the air. Several of the VTOLs that James had seen the day he had arrived in Remnant appeared in the distance. They didn't stay in the distance for very long though, they moved so quickly that they were at the assembly hall in a matter of seconds. The slowed above it, eventually coming to a stop and then slowly descending. James stared at them. It still boggled his mind to see aircraft used so idly and in such large numbers. He had never seen more than one in the air at the time, nor was he aware of any faction in the Mojave that was capable of even fielding more than one. Maybe the Enclave had at one point, but that had been before James's time. He had just been an eight-year-old kid when the NCR and Enclave had clashed.

The ramps to the VTOLs slid open and a compliment of Atlesian soldiers disembarked from each one, Ironwood at the lead. Oddly enough, a red-headed young girl in green and black clothes and with a bright pink ribbon in her hair was right behind him. He turned, spoke to one of the soldiers, and two of the soldiers broke off, leading the girl towards the assembly hall. "Atlas has Huntresses too then?" he asked, watching the girl go.

"In a manner of sorts," Winter replied. "They're not called that within our ranks, but functionally they're identical. We're of course going to make use of those with Aura. Both General Ironwood and I do, and we have a large compliment folded into the military. Technically all four kingdoms have standing armies, but Atlas is the only one who does this. The rest have Huntresses and Hunters acting as a separate organization. Cooperation is common between them, but the more centralized chain of command we have enables for far more synchronized actions.

"Every nation has troopers and Rangers, but in Atlas, they have the same boss, gotcha," James thought to himself. "So unless I'm mistaken, with Atlas's military and Vale's Huntresses and Huntsmen, the plan is to unload both barrels on the White Fang?" He hoped he had gotten the name of this country right, he had overheard it a couple of times but wasn't a hundred percent sure it was correct. If he had made a mistake, Winter didn't correct him.

"A bit of a crude way of putting it, but accurate," Winter said. "The aim of the battle we are planning is to deliver a decisive blow to the Vale branch of the White Fang." This country was called Vale then. James had to fight back the urge to let out a sigh of relief. "While the White Fang is responsible for illicit operations the world over, only the Vale branch is showing this kind of increased aggression and ferocity. It could be the prelude to similar strategies being adopted all over, it may not. We don't know and we can't afford to take chances. We're going to nip this in the bud now and show the White Fang that the started a fight they can't win."

"That may work on them, it won't work on the Legion," James said. "They're fanatic to a suicidal degree. If an officer ordered ten legionaries to storm a machine-gun nest of a hundred with nothing but sticks and stones, they would do it. You can't intimidate them, all you can do is beat them so hard they can't mount any more assaults."

"That is precisely the plan," Winter said crisply. "It's the plan for the local branch of the White Fang as well. The message being sent out, that Atlas and Vale cannot be beaten, is for other branches of the White Fang." Their conversation was cut short as Ironwood approached them. Winter broke into a well-practiced salute. "Sir."

"At ease," he said. "Mr. Walker, I'm pleased to see you here. We've got a lot ahead of us and I need all hands on deck. Please. Follow me. I'm about to explain the finer details of our plan, and I want you there. You'll be working with Specialist Schnee directly for this, acting in both a support and advisory role to her." James glanced at Winter and gave her a small nod. With a gesture, Ironwood led the way into the assembly hall. James and Winter followed.

XXXXX

Blake looked around the assembly hall. When she and the rest of her team had gotten messages asking them to come here, they had expected it to be backed. Instead, only around two dozen or so teams were here, a fraction of the teams that had been present at the Vytal Festival welcoming ceremonies. The teams in question seemed to be evenly divided among the four kingdoms. The only other Vale teams that she could recognize there were JNPR, CFVY and, to her deep displeasure, CRDL.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Someone leaned in from her side. Even if she didn't recognize the voice, her utter waterfall of hair that was now tickling her shoulder and side would have given away that it was Yang. "You look like you're on a different planet. Not trying to go find Mr. Walker's old home are you? I doubt he'd appreciate you rummaging through his stuff without asking first."

Blake smiled for a second. Yang's jokes were never of particularly high quality, but she always told them with an undeniable sincerity that made them endearing. In short bursts. "Just a lot on my mind. About certain things." There was enough of general buzz in the hall that she could probably say everything on her mind and not be overheard, but she played it safe. She pointed to her bow and gave her hidden ears a good twitch. "Recent events mainly."

"Ah," Yang said, her face sagging a bit. A lot had been loaded into those three words, but thankfully Yang seemed to understand it without any trouble. "I-look, they're gonna get stopped, ok? The four of us and Oobleck were able to throw a real wrench into their plan when they were operating under the radar. Now they're getting the attention of Vale and Atlas after what they pulled off with that failed attack of theirs. They're going to get what's coming to them."

"Yes but-" Blake started before she hesitated. It was hard to put all of this into words. She rarely had been in a situation where she could voice all of her concerns about the White Fang. She had run away from home after a spiteful argument, Adam had mastered the art of guilt tripping her into staying quiet so that she didn't put additional pressure on him, the rest of the White Fang wouldn't listen to her concerns, and she hadn't been open with her new friends on her past and status as a Faunus for very long. It didn't come naturally to her. She had to try. "They do need to be stopped," she said. "But. I don't know Yang. This is all so much. People I used to know are going to get caught up in the crossfire. Some of them are good people who just lost their way."

"They did some pretty nasty stuff, Blake," Yang replied. "I get that there's some personal feelings there, but they're out there hurting people."

"But that's the thing," Blake said, finally feeling like she had a thread to start pulling on. "Something doesn't feel right about this. The White Fang started crossing lines some time ago, but this? This is on a whole other level, something's changed about them. They attacked convoys, stole, and killed, but mass slaughter? Torture? People mauled to death by dogs? And those crosses." She took in a sharp breath. When she had first seen the pictures of yesterday's attack, she had thought that the ones who had been strapped to those wooden crosses had already been dead. Instead, the design of the cross had caused those on it to die a slow and painful death. "What are they doing? Could...could I have ended up like them?"

"Hey," Yang said, putting her arms around Blake and pulling her into a hug. "I can only imagine how tough this is for you. But anyone who's out there? Doing all these things? Something happened to them, something that you weren't a part of. They're looking at all of this and they're still going through with it. You saw everything that was going on and you didn't stay. You left. So don't go comparing yourself to them, ok?"

Blake nodded uncertainty. She felt like she could talk for hours about her concerns with the White Fang and Adam and it still wouldn't be enough. There was so much that was still left unsaid, either because she couldn't bring herself to say it, or she just didn't have the words. Like Adam. She had alluded to him a couple of times, made vague statements about him, but never by name. She had never told any of her team about that particular wound, or how very deep it went. And they deserved to know, they deserved to know exactly how close she and Adam had been, and how their relationship had turned so utterly toxic. Particularly when she had a good hunch that Adam was nearby. But every time she tried to bring it up, the words died in her mouth. Self-loathing washed over her. Even when she wasn't running away, she didn't have the courage to take a step forward.

"May I have your attention please?" Blake's head snapped in the direction of whoever had just spoken. General Ironwood was standing at the center of the assembly hall, quite a few soldiers in Atlas armor around him, along with James, ED-E floating over his shoulder, and a woman that Blake didn't know. She blinked. The woman in question was a spitting image of Weiss if she had been aged up a decade.

"Winter!?" Weiss was staring at the older woman with disbelief etched onto her face. "What's she doing here?"

"You know her?" Ruby asked, leaning up on the tips of her toes to get a better look at her. "Is she your mom?"

"My sister!" Weiss said indignantly. "She's a specialist in the Atlas army. She's been out of contact for some time now, I'm not sure what she's been up to. If she's here, and with the attacks that happened lately," she hesitated, looking worried. "I don't think that this is anything good."

Blake wondered what she had meant by that, but Ironwood was still speaking and she turned her attention back to him. "I have no doubt that you are well aware of the attacks that have been taking place the past few days, so I won't insult your intelligence by reminding you. However, I will tell you that these are unprecedented acts of cruelty that we have not seen in decades. The only recorded incidents that match the disregard for sapient life." Blake couldn't help but notice that he said sapient life instead of human life. She appreciated that.

"We have obtained evidence that more attacks like these have already been planned, and that they intend to strike soon. Frankly, they have had more free reign than they should have ever been allowed to. We intend to launch a counter-attack before any more settlements are the victims of this barbarism. However, in order to ensure a total and utter victory, we need your help." A collective gasp reverberated throughout the assembly hall, one that Blake contributed to against her will.

"Some may accuse me of putting unfair pressure on you. While I disagree with them, you have proven yourselves to be true Huntsmen and Huntresses in training already, I understand their concern. So please understand, this mission will be highly dangerous and volunteer only. I urge you, do not let your decisions be made by pride, and any ridicule to those who do not volunteer will not be tolerated. This is a decision that cannot be made idly. You will be heading into enemy territory, the presence of backup doesn't change this. Please. Before I go any further, take some time to talk with your teams. If you wish to participate, please stay. If you do not, you may leave at your convenience." Ironwood fell silent, though he did not move from where he stood. At once, mutterings sprouted up across the hall.

"Team RWBY? Huddle up," Ruby said. Blake hesitated, still digesting the announcement, but the other three members of her team had already bunched up together, and she followed suit. "Ok, this is a decision too big for me to make alone," the redheaded girl said. "We need a unanimous vote if we're going to do this. I'm all for it, but this is bigger than anything we've ever done before. Are we doing this?"

"You've got a heck yeah from me," Yang said, grinning toothily. "We already started this when we went into Mountain Glenn, we can't leave this half done. Besides, we're gonna have back up this time. Why would I turn down a fight with even better odds than the last one we got into?"

"You sure?" Ruby asked. "I mean, Mount Glenn was a little rough for you. That pink haired girl gave you a really tough time going by what you said."

Blake noticed a very odd expression on Yang's face, but it was gone in the blink of an eye, replaced by Yang's usual cheery attitude. "Ah, she got lucky. Got the drop on me. We just gotta make sure that she doesn't get the chance again. All four of us will be more than a match for her. Besides, she was Torchwick's little assistant, we gotta drag her in if she's out there. So I stand by my heck yeah."

"Well, apparently my sister is going to be out there," Weiss said. "Ruby? You wouldn't stay at school and do nothing if you knew Yang was going to go out and risk her life, and I the same goes for me and Winter. She's a Schnee, she's going to be considered a high-value target the second the White Fang realize who she is. Though the White Fang has been so utterly disgusting as of late that someone needs to do something to stop them. I'd be willing to do something about it even if I knew no one out there. They've just become utter savages as of late." A second after she had spoken, she glanced at Blake and a look of horror spread across her face. "I mean, they certainly had reasons to be upset, but this is hardly an appropriate response, or-" but Blake put her hand up.

"I'm not going to be offended on their behalf," she said calmly, more calmly then she felt. "Not anymore." Weiss nodded at her, still looking a little worried. "They've crossed a line. They need to be stopped. The White Fang was supposed to be about justice. This?" She thought of Adam, his snarling face visible even with his mask on. "It's spite. It's going to make things worse for everyone. Humans and Faunus, no one benefits. So yeah. Let's do this."

Ruby nodded. "Ok. Team RWBY is 100% on board with this. Heh. Our second big official mission as a team. Let's make it count." Team RWBY broke away. As they did, Blake spotted a couple of teams that were slowly leaving the hall, most of them looking rather ashamed as they did. Part of her wondered if she would have been among them if the circumstances had been slightly different Well, she didn't exactly have time to wonder that.

Blake didn't recognize anyone within the leaving teams. She blinked in surprise. Team CRDL wasn't among those who had turned down the offer to join Atlas on this expedition, something that deeply surprised her. For all of Team CRDL's bluster, they had never struck her as a particularly brave or daring bunch. Not daring in brave in ways that were actually meaningful at the least. Sure enough, they were still in the assembly hall, deep in conversation, not that far away.

She took a couple of steps closer, facing General Ironwood while watching Team CRDL out of the corner of her eyes, all four of her ears perked up. With the exception of Cardin himself, all of team CRDL looked rather nervous, while Cardin glared at all of them. "I think this is a bad idea man," Russel said, nervously fingering his one shoulder pad. "I mean, those freaks started putting bodies on display and eating people. They really are a bunch of animals. Maybe we should just let Atlas handle this."

"Hey. You see that?" he pointed across the room, to Team JNPR, which was huddled together in a quiet conversation. "The blonde pansy is staying. Are you telling me we should be running and let Atlas take care of it, that we can't handle it when he can? Kind of sounds like that's what you're saying. And I'm not giving his girlfriend another chance to show us up. We're going, and if you've got a problem with it, you can find yourself another team. Anyone got a problem with that?" Russel, Sky, and Dove all looked uncomfortable but didn't say anything. "That's what I thought."

Blake didn't know how or why Team CRDL was being considered for this, they seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. At that moment though, Ironwood had begun to speak again. "This is the final chance for all who wish to leave. Anyone?" He looked around, but no further teams left. "Very well then. What I am about to tell you is strictly confidential information. We have significant evidence that suggests that the White Fang is being reinforced by a newly surfaced faction. We are still analyzing much of the data given to us and cannot afford leaks, so it will be provided to you on a strictly need to know basis."

A display behind him blinked to life, showing a holographic display where four sketched mugshots were at the center. One of a balding man captioned Edward "Caesar" Swallow, one of a thin white-haired man captioned "Vulpes Inculta", one of an older, bearded man caption "Lucius", and a fourth of a regally designed helmet with an odd red topped captioned "Legate Lanius." "These are the four known leaders of this recently identified faction, known as Caesar's Legion. Our reports indicate that they are a primitive but highly experienced warband that has operated outside of the Four Kingdoms."

Blake couldn't help but notice that Ironwood wasn't bringing up James's claim about the Legion being from another world. At first, she was annoyed, but then she put herself in the shoes of one of the students who hadn't heard it from James personally. She probably would've thought that Ironwood was insane or just messing with her. And anyway, Ironwood had said that the information was strictly need to know. Knowledge of the Legion's true origins wasn't needed to fight them after all.

"There is evidence to suggest that the Legion is teaching the White Fang new tactics that have led to their deviation from their normal plans. They have therefore been identified as a threat on par with the White Fang, and are to be dealt with on sight. Apprehended if possible, eliminated if necessary. Please, react with all due haste if you sight any of these four men. But these are objectives of opportunity. We have another matter that presses directly on us."

The four pictures behind him disappeared to be replaced by a map of the coast of Vale. Not of the coastal cities, but of the smaller towns between said cities. Three were highlighted, a beachfront pier town, a fishing village, and one that was in a wooded area a few kilometers inland. All of them were rather close together. "We have tracked the White Fang to this general area, but we don't know their exact position. All civilians in these towns had been evacuated, hopefully with the enemy forces being none the wiser. We will move into these towns with the intention of ambushing the White Fang and Legion as they move to sack another settlement.

"Ambushes will set up in all three settlements. Atlas military forces will be present in all of them, and student teams will be acting as support depending on the settlement in question. Vale Teams will be present here, Mistral teams here, and Vacuo here." As he spoke, symbols of each of the mentioned kingdoms appeared on one of the villages. "Atlas students will be assisting a flanking force that will be moving in behind the enemy force, cutting off their retreat. We are grouping student teams with those from their respective academies in order to maximize synchronization. I understand you may have made some new and interesting allies this semester, but in such a dire situation we must rely on tried and true battle formations."

"I will be leading the flanking formation. One of my trusted subordinates will be leading each of the others. You will listen to them and follow their instructions to the letter. This is a military operation and the utmost care must be taken in order to ensure success." Pictures appeared in front of each Kingdom's symbol, each of them depicting a different Atlas officer. Winter was over the one of Vale. Blake didn't know how to feel about that. Weiss had never said anything ill about her sister, and her personal research pointed to her being disowned by her father. Hopefully, she didn't share her father's views on Faunus. Hopefully. "Please report to your assigned officers at once. They will give you more detailed instructions.

With that, General Ironwood stepped away from the stage. Instantly, the teams in the hall began to move towards their respective officers. Team RWBY found themselves heading towards Winter along with Teams JNPR, CRDL, and CFVY, and two teams unfamiliar to her. Weiss looked noticeably nervous. Soon, the four teams and a couple of others that Blake didn't recognize were gathered around Winter, who was standing with her arms folded behind her back with James and ED-E right behind her.

"We will be landing in the village that is most likely to be targeted by the White Fang, as it is the closest from their last known location," she said briskly. "You were picked for this because General Ironwood highly respects Professor Ozpin's opinion, and Ozpin's report on his students has been nothing short of glowing. I will be expecting you to live up to those expectations." Blake was certain she heard Weiss swallow. "We will be deploying in a loose net formation and encircling the village. The center of the net will move forward to engage the enemy when they are spotted, while the arms of the net will close in on them from the sides."

She produced her scroll and pressed a button, a hologram of a half circle appearing above it. "I have studied reports on your team and have assigned you positions that play to your strengths. Team JNPR and Team CRDL will be in the center of the formation, their skill sets best fit the role of luring an enemy in and keeping them occupied. All other teams will be part of the arms, as listed here. All portions of the formation will be supported by a full platoon. The platoon lieutenant will lead the right wing, and the sergeant the left." Blake focused on the hologram. Team RWBY would be on the right wing with one of the teams she didn't know. CYFY would be on the left.

She pointed to James over her shoulder. "Mr. Walker here will be serving me in an advisory role in the center position, but any orders he gives are to be followed as if I gave them. The platoon lieutenant and sergeant are to have their orders obeyed as well. We will land outside the village, ideally hours before the White Fang are due to arrive, and set up our ambush. The center formation will be intentionally poorly concealed to trick the White Fang into thinking that they have found the only trap. The wings will be more properly concealed in order to ensure the ambush goes well. Are there any questions?" No one said anything. "Good. We leave in fifteen minutes. Make any last preparations you need and meet me outside. We will be traveling by air."

She pointed to a nearby table, one that was laden with small earpieces. "These are short-range radios that can transmit up to fifty clicks away. Not a particularly great distance, but they'll be helpful for this mission. Everyone take one and do not change the frequency unless ordered." As she spoke, she took two and affixed one in her own ear, handing the other to James.

At once, Blake's hand went to Gambol Shroud, double-checking its standard and dust ammunition. She could see the other members of her team doing the rest with their weapons before going to take a radio. Weiss's hands were trembling a little bit, but she was keeping a firm grip on her sword despite this. Blake steeled herself for what was about to come. Adam had gone from being more than just lashing out at humans and hurting them. He had become outright sadistic, drawing out their suffering as long as possible. He had to be stopped.

XXXXX

Servius looked at the new weapon in his hand. It was almost comical, it looked more like a toy than anything else. It was white, had odd little lights along the top, and a barrel that looked more like a suction cup than a proper weapon part. But he had tested it and it had burned a hole in the side of the house that he had fired at. It was a very effective weapon, as much as he didn't want to admit it. Even after those results, everything about it felt wrong. Even its name, LAER, felt more like a parody of weaponry than an actual weapon.

He had never thought that he would actually wield an energy weapon in his life. Caesar's word had always declared them to be a product of the old world's greed, incompetence, and complacency. A crutch used by children who were incapable of defending themselves when their contraptions broke. If he ever had seen a legionary picking it up, Servius would have demanded that he discard that weapon or face death.

And yet Vulpes, one of the most powerful men of the Legion, had taken dozens of this LAERs with him into this new world. The rest of the survivors of the portal guard had also been given LAERs, with the exception of Tullus as he could no longer hold a rifle. It felt wrong to see a Centurion like Ancus disgrace himself by using such a cowardly weapon. To his credit, Ancus had grimaced with disgust when his LAER had been presented to him, but he had taken it because he had been ordered to. And even then, he had also been gifted with a Super Sledge, a far more honorable weapon that was worthy of a legionary of Ancus's status. Rumford, on the other hand, had taken his LAER with glee. The hatred Servius felt towards that profligate wearing the armor of a legionary boiled. Even though all of them were now dressed in the armor of the White Fang, Servius still fumed at the thought of Rumford feeling that he was worthy of pretending to be a legionary.

Vulpes had declared that the usage of the LAERs in this world was due to a direct order from Caesar himself. Servius had doubted it, though not openly. He would never directly contradict one of Caesar's most trusted officers. And yet, Caesar's Signifer had produced a written order that bore Caesar's mark, which banished any doubt from Servius's mind. Caesar had deemed that this world was so dangerous, and yet had so much to offer them, that he had decreed that energy weapons would be used for their expedition here. Servius was relieved when he learned that the order clarified that this was only a temporary matter and that all of the LAERs were to be destroyed when the Legion was done with this world. It was a comforting thought to know that these disgraceful weapons would not become a staple of the Legion's armory.

"Hah! Check this out!" Servius looked up. The White Fang and Legion had made camp a few miles away from their next target, resting for a little bit before beginning their assault. Rumford was swinging around a belt-fed machine-gun, the same type of machine-gun that the Legion used as fixed weapons for their settlements and outposts, with the letters and numbers M1919A4 carved into its side. The belt was connected to the machine-gun through a box of ammunition that was strapped to Rumford's back, just below his LAER. Normally, one Legionary would have to man the gun while another fed ammunition through it, but Rumford's newly awakened Aura removed the need for that. "Wonder what it'll look like when a band of cocksuckers get mowed down by this bad boy!"

Servius snarled in anger but forced himself to stay quiet. At least one of the weapons that Rumford was using had some dignity to it. Vulpes had brought quite a bit of hardware through the portal with him, having been expecting to operate in Remnant without resupply for months, and he had taken a great deal of Legion weapons and ammunition with him, in addition to what he had scavenged from Big Mountain.

"Indeed," Vulpes said, approaching Rumford. "And while your excitement is appreciated, I suggest that you remain calm. Lest you bring doom upon us. That would certainly damper your claims as a legionary, wouldn't it?"

As if Vulpes had ripped the excitement out of Rumford, the aspiring legionary stared at his superior. Then slowly began to sit down. "No. Sorry sir," he said meekly. Servius grinned at this sight, enjoying it greatly. Rumford getting less leeway was exactly what he needed. It was almost like Rumford had been replaced with a completely different person, he was utterly silent as he inspected his machine-gun.

"Vulpes," Adam said impatiently. Adam, Ancus, Vulpes, Caesar's Signifer and Adam's large second in command had been sitting in a circle in the very center of the joint camp and talking when Rumford had distracted them. "Don't you think it's time that we begin our attack? The humans are right over there, stewing in their fear. The fear the White Fang instilled in them. Every second they wait, the more chances they have to dig in or run. We should strike now and demonstrate our superiority."

"Adam," Vulpes said softly, approaching the red-headed boy. "You don't need to prove your superiority to these profligates. You've already done so thrice. You are strong and they are weak. They cannot deny nor ignore it. All their numbers and armies have done nothing from allowing to strike down dozens of their citizens and the pitiful resistance that we encountered. Your superiority is an ironclad fact now. It would be a waste of your time to attempt to convince the few ignorant children who have yet to realize this."

Adam's impatience faltered as he smirked, clearly pleased with himself. Servius frowned. From what he understood, the Legion had been more instrumental in instilling terror in profligates than Adam was. Their tactics of crucifixion had been the highlight of their last attack, something no member of the White Fang had thought up, or even taken part in. He didn't understand why Vulpes was heaping on all of this unearned praise. "Well spoken. Still, we shouldn't pass up such an easy target."

"Is it an easy target though?" Vulpes said. "Even slothful profligates will take note when settlements have been lost. When your enemy is incompetent, you must take care that you do not come to rely on their incompetence. The greatest fool can be wise on occasion, even if it is by accident. There is a chance that they are expecting an attack from us." He gave an exaggerating shrug. "They may not, it is difficult to predict the actions of the unwise. Lack of wisdom can often lead to unpredictability. But once we know of their actions, it becomes so simple that a child could do it." He grinned. "I do not speak with hyperbole. I have seen children cripple veteran profligates. Wait for my scouts to return, they will hand victory to you. After all, you could win a more difficult battle if your enemies lie in wait for you. But what have they done to earn your best?"

"Nothing," Adam replied, his grin growing wider. "Not a thing. Very well." Servius stared at Adam. He wasn't sure he liked Adam. Servius wasn't sure how old Adam was, but at the very oldest he was only two or three years older than him. No older than twenty-two. It didn't feel right that someone that young had taken command. It would be like him commanding Ancus or Tullus. The more experienced warrior should take charge, those with actual battlefield experience. Adam led his men from the front, so that made him better than the likes of the incompetent General Oliver or the frail and obsolete Chief Hanlon, but he was still just a child. His second in command was much older and had the look of someone who had seen much combat. If they had been legionaries, Adam would have been taking orders from his second in command, not the other way around. Adam was a child ordering men. It felt wrong.

"Adam!" Servius turned his head. The woman who had gotten the better of him, Illia, stormed into the middle of the circle. "Adam, we need to talk," she said in her husky voice. "Their pet. It's...FEEDING again." Servius's initial feelings to a subordinate interrupting a meeting, one that had a Centurion and Vulpes, had initially been anger. But after hearing her words, they fell away to be replaced by horror. Feeding? Again? Already? "We can't let that THING have free reign of camp. It needs to be kept on a tighter leash."

Adam frowned, whether it was at the news or being interrupted Servius didn't know, but Vulpes was the first to speak. "Tell me, what was eaten? One of the captives or one of the fallen?"

"It was one of the dead, but that doesn't change-" Illia began, whirling around to face Vulpes with anger on her face. But he interrupted her before she could get another word out.

"I understand how such a sight might make you uncomfortable, but I advise that your steel your stomach. Those are your enemies that are being consumed, their bodies being converted into energy for "our pet" as you so elegantly put it. This pet of ours is one of the greatest assets the Legion has ever known, and this pet fights for our united cause. What is more, what will the men and women who oppose you do when they see those who have been feasted on? Scream and run in terror, their cowardice laid bare for the world to see."

He leaned forward where he sat, smiling at Illia. Servius's blood ran cold. There was no warmth in that smile, only a command. Be silent. "You'll forgive me if I don't order this stopped simply to make you more comfortable. All the tragedies that could have befallen you in your quest for freedom and now you complain about an upset stomach? If one of the captives had been eaten, it would've been understandable. We need them alive. But the fallen? Come now. You have far greater concerns than this, doesn't she Adam?" He turned his attention to the redheaded boy.

"She does," Adam said coldly. He got to his feet. "Illia, I don't want you to ever embarrass me in front of our allies again."

"But-" she said, taking a step back. Her anger had been sapped away, replaced by confusion and a hint of fear. "Adam, that thing is-"

"Feeding on humans," Adam growled. "They treat us like animals, want us to just be animals. Whatever's happening down there? They deserve it. They deserve worse in fact. Come find me when it happens to one of our own and never interrupt me during a meeting again. I'm disappointed in your Illia. I'm here securing our freedom and you complain about humans being hurt? After everything they did to you?" Illia was hanging her head in shame now and said something that Servius couldn't hear. "That's what I thought. Now get out of here." Slowly, Illia slumped away.

Servius felt a pang of sympathy, but only a small one. Discipline was needed among warriors, he had been on the receiving end of it more than once. It was unpleasant, but he had grown because of it. Doing it in front of everyone had been cruel, but she had involved everyone else in her insubordination. It was a punishment that matched the crime. Still, Servius could fully understand why she did it. He had seen the bodies too. The teeth marks, the chunks of missing flesh, and the bodies opened up to reach the inner organs. It was only normal that she objected to it, particularly when she lacked a legionary's discipline.

"Heh, did you see that?" Servius's face twisted in disgust, making him glad that he was wearing a helmet. Rumford had edged over towards him, sniggering and pointing at Illia's back. "She thought she could barge in and make demands. Good to know the kid can put a woman in her place. Gotta say though, I'm not sure why they let women fight in the first place. You know they can't fight for shit."

A horrible feeling tore through Servius. Without warning, the monster was there again. Leering at him, her tongue rolling out of her jaw, each of her massive eight arms swinging an axe. He was on his back, she was over him, slicing his leg wide open. Maggots were crawling out. "Hey dipshit, I'm talking to you." Just as soon as the monster appeared, it was gone. He was back in the camp, cold sweat running down his back, a cold empty feeling in the core of his gut. "Oh, do you not want to talk about it because she made you her whimpering little bitch? Show some spine why don't you?"

"Shut the hell up," Servius hissed, glaring at Rumford. "You have no idea what you're talking about, do you? You spent all your time holed up in a Vault, a Vault! Hiding behind a wall! That girl over there? The one that can't fight for shit? She's got more balls than you do, and if I had to pick between fighting her and fighting you, I'd fight you. Because she actually knows what she's doing in a fight, as opposed to the pathetic junkie mess you are."

"You little fucking cockpussy," Rumford said, looking as if he wanted nothing more than to punch Servius. "If you didn't have daddy Ancus watching your back, your ass would be on the ground right now."

"Then ask him for permission to duel me," Servius said simply, biting down on the anger that had flared up in him. He was entering a very dangerous territory and he had to handle it carefully. But if he pulled it off well, it would be the perfect way to deal with Rumford. One way or another. "Legionaries who can't work together are permitted to duel each other with their Centurion's permission. Ask him and let's settle this once and for all. You and I, blade in hand. Only one walks away." And then his anger got the better of him. "I'd love nothing more than to slit your pathetic throat. It'd be easy. So go ahead and challenge me if you have any balls."

He rooted himself to the spot, staring Rumford directly in the eye. He couldn't back down now. He had effectively issued a challenge, he would be seen as weak and ineffective if Rumford accepted his challenge and he faltered. It had been a move made far too quickly, he should have thought it through more, he had been far too impulsive, but it was set in stone now. The idea of purging the Legion of a substandard legionary like Rumford would be something he would gladly take up.

Rumford snorted, but there had been a noticeable hesitation before it came. A pang of power echoed through Servius. He was scared, or at the very least worried. "What's the matter cockpussy? Too much of a little girl to settle things with guns?"

"A profligate to the core," Servius said with disgust. A duel with firearms, something that utterly missed the point of a duel. Two men clashing to see who was superior in a contest of strength and skill. Profligates just wanted to kill in their cowardly ways and put on the pretense of superiority. "Try and ask Ancus if you can use a gun in the duel. See what he does to you." If he was lucky, Rumford would get lashes for cowardice. If he was less lucky he would be killed. If Ancus truly wanted to make Rumford suffer, he could order him struck blind and made a slave. That last one was unlikely though, it wasn't in Ancus's nature. "But I could beat you if you had a gun and I had a blade anyway." Nothing would make Servius happier than to have Rumford on the ground, hacking away at his throat until his head rolled off to the side, his smug grin permanently wiped out.

"Maybe I will cockpussy, maybe I will," Rumford said, turning and walking away. His voice sounded confident, but Servius couldn't help but notice that he was walking in the opposite direction as Ancus. He wouldn't actually be asking Ancus for permission. He could put on all the bluster he wanted, he would know he hadn't risen when Servius had issued a challenge. Both of them would. Relaxing a feeling a rush of satisfaction, he felt the sudden urge to scream at Rumford, to capitalize on his victory and let the entire camp know what a coward Rumford was. Before he could act on this feeling though, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he felt himself face to face with Tullus.

"Can I have a word?" the veteran legionary asked. "By the weapon storage? I need to ask you something." Tullus sounded very concerned. Confused, Rumford forgotten, Servius nodded. The other legionary led him away from the center of camp, more towards the edge. They passed through a line of guards around their makeshift armor, the Legion portion of the guards gave them a chorus of "Ave" before making room for them to pass, the White Fang guards staring in confusion. They moved forward a bit further until they came onto a series of trucks the White Fang had used to bring them there. A gnawing noise was coming from the inside of one of them. Servius tried very hard to not think about what was going on inside that one. Tullus climbed up into the open back of one of the trucks, sitting on a crate of ammunition, while Servius followed. He sighed deeply. "I'm done."

Servius blinked. "What do you mean?"

"This arm," he said, holding up the machete that now acted as his left arm. "I can't be a legionary with this arm. And you know what the legion is like. It doesn't have time or room for the weak." He gave a sad smile. "I'm part of the weak now Serv. I'm a burden to the Legion."

"What?" Servius said, feeling like he had just been punched in the gut. "But you're fine, it wasn't your primary hand. What's the problem?"

Tullus sighed. He drew his revolver and flicked the chamber open, emptying the bullets onto his lap. Holding his revolver with his good hand, he inched his blade arm underneath the bullet and inched it towards the chamber. It fell off, bouncing across the floor of the truck and stopping just in front of Servius. Tullus looked at it with a gaunt face. "I could probably load it if I wedged it between my legs, but that's not something I can do in the middle of a firefight, can I?"

"There's a way around this," Servius said, his brain racing to try and figure out the aforementioned way around it. This couldn't be happening. Tullus couldn't meet his end like this. He deserved better than that.

"I want you to have this," Tullus said, swinging his revolver shut and handing it to Servius. "With that power of yours, you've more than earned a veteran legionary's weapon. I can't give you the rank itself, even now you'll have to work for years before you earn it, but you will become one of the Legion's honored" He chuckled softly. "Someday you'll be a Centurion, I can see it in you. I wish I could be there to see it."

"Give this to me when I am a veteran legionary," Servius said, refusing to take the revolver. "You survived Hoover Dam! Twice! You're stronger than this!"

"It's not strength," Tullus said sadly. "Not strength of will anyway. My body is broken. Barca broke it." Barca. Barca. Images of the greatest enemy the Legion had ever known filled his head. Rage boiled in him. Once again, he imagined himself fighting Barca, ripping the man's helmet off, burying his blade in his throat again and again. Desecrating his body, cutting the eyes from his skull before covering his body in pitch. He forced himself out of his thoughts. Tullus. He had to focus on Tullus.

"Wait. Please," Servius said, feeling desperate. He looked around the truck, trying to find a way out. Any sort of way out. His eyes moved over half a dozen machine-guns, a box of grenades, a rack of LAERs, and a crate packed to the brim with pistols. The pistols were mostly 9mms, with the occasional 12.7. Servius's mind went into overdrive. "Give me a second." Reaching into the box, he grabbed four pistols and pulled them out, laying them all down on the floor.

"You draw," he said, grabbing one and aiming it at the wall. "You empty the clip. You reload." He dropped the pistol before grabbing a second one. "Repeat. We've got augmented strength with our Auras, you can afford to carry more pistols. Even back in our world, we had more 9mms than we knew what to do with. And you've more than earned your right to a 12.7mm. Just ask Ancus for the right to use one, you know he'll say yes."

Tullus didn't say anything. Servius started to worry. He had been making up his idea as he went along, and even though it sounded halfway convincing out loud, Tullus might not be able to pull it off. If the loss of his arm had damaged his warrior's spirit, there was nothing he could do. The thought terrified him. It couldn't end like this.

Slowly, Tullus knelt down in front of the 9mms. With the speed and precision of a legionary that had fought and trained for years, he grasped one of the pistols and aimed it at the way. Dropping it without pause, he grabbed and aimed another, repeating the process until he had done the same with all four. A flicker of hope appeared on his face. "Serv?" he said, sounding as if he was scared that what he was seeing was too good to be true. "Could you get me some spare holsters?" Servius had already been on it before the question had been fully asked.

Working his way towards the back end of the truck, he ruffled through some bags that held spare armor, White Fang and Legion both, before finding a variety of holsters. Pulling out as many as he could carry, he ran back to the front, dropping them in front of Tullus. Tullus already had one holster at his right hip, but with Servius's help, he quickly had three more strapped to his body. One under his left armpit, one at his right calf, and one to the right of his back. All of them had a 9mm slung into them. In Servius's opinion, it was a good look for Tullus. Four pistols and a blade arm gave him the look of a man who planned to take an entire enemy platoon by himself.

Trembling, Tullus stepped outside and faced a tree. Taking a deep breath, he drew from his side and aimed. He did the same with his calf, then back, then his opposite side. It took him a few tries to get the hand of drawing from under his armpit, but to Servius's delight, he handled all of the others just fine. "I'll have to practice every time I get the chance," he said, holstering the pistol. "But...Mars above, Serv, I think this can work." Another draw and holster. Tullus began to shake with nervous joy. "I can do this Serv!"

Letting out a cry of joy, he embraced Servius, careful not to cut him with his bladed arm, raining kisses down on Servius's face. Servius laughed before gently pushing him off. Tullus had a bad habit of showing affection when someone could be watching. They would both be in deep trouble if they were found out. Still, it put Servius in a good mood. Slowly, his eyes went down to Tullus's bladed hand. His pleasant feelings started to slip away. "What were you going to do?" he asked. "A bullet in the mouth?"

"No, I would never die like a coward," Tullus said. Despite the firmness of the statement, Tullus looked abashed. Ashamed even. "I would have left the camp and walked until I found those Grimm. I would have died the way any legionary should. With blade in hand and surrounded by fallen enemies. They're the enemies of all men, therefore there are the enemies of the Legion. It would have been a good way to die."

"It would have done nothing for the Legion," Servius argued. "I understand dying for the Legion." This was true. Servius had spent many a night envisioning himself meeting his death in glory. A charge against the final walls of the NCR, wounded by one of their cowardly snipers, but fighting on and opening their gates with his final breath. A good way to do. Now the possibilities were so much more. "But you can't fight for selfish glory. Our glory is all Caesar's glory as well."

"The recruit is wiser than the veteran it seems," Tullus said. Slowly, and clumsily, he removed his helmet with his one good hand, pulled down the bandana that covered his face from the nose down, and removed his goggles. His headgear was the same that all non-officers of the Legion wore, Servius and Rumford both wore the same, and it was done to intimidate the enemies of the Legion. It was nearly impossible to tell individual legionaries apart while their faces were fully covered unless you knew them well from serving with them. Servius was proud that he could do this, but he still appreciated being able to see Tullus's face.

Tullus had a carefully trimmed goatee and a chiseled chin, as well as a slender, toned face. His dark brown hair was short and messy from being cramped up in his helmet, and his bright green eyes were focused on Servius. He sighed. "I'm not as strong as I thought I was, it seems." He looked at his bladed arm. "If this made me consider dying for nothing." There was an uncomfortable pause. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Servius said, putting a comforting hand on Tullus's shoulder. "Just don't think like that again. I know you, it'll take more than an arm to slow you down. With your new power, a revolver is a child's toy by comparison. It's irrelevant to you. Your body is the strongest weapon you have."

Tullus perked up at this. "Like the Praetorians," he said. Servius nodded. Exactly like the Praetorians. "I wonder if they'll still let me become one with this. Does it count as unarmed to them?" He looked thoughtful. Anyway. I still want you to have this." Again, he drew his revolver and handed it to Servius. He opened his mouth to protest, but Tullus was quicker. "No complaining. I can't use this in my current state. It's better off in your hands. I meant what I said earlier, you've earned this weapon." Slowly, Servius took the revolver. It felt odd in his hands like he had overstepped his station.

A loud sob emanated from the truck behind them. Both of them turned to look. The sobbing continued, accompanied by a much softer sound. The unmistakable sound of something being chewed. "Let's get away from here," Servius said. "It's disgusting."

"Disgusting? Yes. But needed," Tullus said, leading Servius back to the main camp, reapplying his headgear as he did. He needed Servius's help to tighten his bandanna again. "The profligates are a dangerous people Serv. They only think about themselves and squander limited resources. They need to be assimilated or eliminated, and we can't afford to hold back. You haven't been deployed to a recently taken settlement before this, it's understandable that you're uncomfortable. You will learn to tolerate it."

Servius nodded slowly, mulling it over. As he and Tullus continued to walk, he heard an odd noise in the distance. It sounded like a bird. Both Servius and Tullus stiffened. "The explorer is back!" Servius said. "We're moving out!" Both he and Tullus broke into a run. In front of them, Servius heard someone shout.

"Get the captives ready!"

XXXXX

It was taking everything James had to not vomit. Pre-War Earth had apparently had air travel as a common staple of their society, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out how this was supposed to be tolerable for the common person. The Bullhead, apparently that was the name of the VTOL, had plenty of straps to keep him (with ED-E tucked firmly into his lap), Winter, and Team CRDL secure, along with some headsets to keep the roaring sound of the engines from deafening them all. But the feeling of flying through the air at who knew how fast made James's insides feel scrambled.

He had ridden in the back of a handful of cars in his lifetime, there were engineers back in the NCR stubborn enough to get some old trucks and Highwaymen working in the core regions, but they had actually felt pleasant. After the brain got over the initial terror of going faster than mere legs could ever manage, there was a lot to enjoy. The scenery rolling by, the feeling of wind on your face, and the freedom it all gave. The Bullhead felt more like not being sure if you were in a freefall.

"Please let it almost be over, please let it almost be over, please let it almost be over," he chanted to himself over and over again. He slammed his eyes shut, forcing himself to take deep, calming breaths in a desperate attempt to keep the nausea that was building up in his stomach to a minimum.

Then, mercifully, he felt the craft begin to descend. He took a few slow breaths as it finally came to a stop, following Winter's lead as she began to undo the straps that were holding her to her seat. Eventually, all six of them were on their feet, their headsets having been left behind, and had exited out of the now open door. James stopped for a second to slip his helmet on, strapping it into place, letting ED-E float freely, then took a quick look around. Over half a dozen Hammerheads had landed nearby, disembarking the various student teams and Atlas soldiers, all of whom had their weapons at the ready.

He spotted Team RWBY as they formed up with the rest of the right arm and began to move out, Ruby giving him a quick wave that he returned. The left arm headed off not long after, mirroring the right as they both circled around the village. Winter drew her weapon, an odd, double ended sword, as she watched them head out. "Follow me," she said to everyone who was left, which was James, Team CRDL, Team JNPR, and a dozen Atlas soldiers. "Keep quiet and move fast." With that, she made a towards the village that was visible in the distance, although still a few miles away. James followed without hesitation, his rifle in hand, occasionally checking over his shoulder to make sure the others were keeping up.

It took a bit to cover the distance between the landing zone and the village. The downside to Hammerheads was that they were quite noisy, and the White Fang would be tipped off if too many of them landed right in the middle of the town that they were planning on attacking. So they had to make do with a bit of a hike. James mentally sized up the odds of the situation they were going into. Between Winter, the two teams, and himself, they had ten people who had active Auras, plus a dozen trained soldiers. If this was anything like sending ten NCR Rangers into a hostile situation, it would have been overkill in most situations. Except he had seen first hand that the White Fang had those who could use Aura and use it well. And the Legion would want as much to do with that as they could. And depending on how long they had been active in Remnant, they could have had more time to practice with Aura than he had.

"Hold," Winter said, softly but sternly, holding her hand up. The small mob behind her came to a stop, Team CRDL being noticeably slower to stop than the others. They were on the very edge of the town, to the point where they could see through the buildings to a clearing in the center. A center where half a dozen crosses had been erected. Six people with bags on their heads had been tied to the structures, all of them struggling against their bindings. James's heart shot into his mouth. If they were moving like that, they hadn't been tied for very long and they could still be removed safely. And the Legion knew that. "They're already here," Winter said. "But the town was evacuated." She paused. "Mr. Walker, advise."

"It's a trap," James said at once. "The Legion loves this trick. Crucify captives or POWs in sight of an enemy position. If they were in a more secure territory, they'd have a couple of legionaries stabbing them in non-vital areas with spears. The standard tactic when it came to dealing with this was a mercy killing with snipers. As distasteful as I find that, there were situations where a rescue mission just wasn't a possibility. The point of the tactic is to goad their enemies into charging in. As it stands, they're probably lying in wait somewhere, just waiting for us to make a move."

"I see," Winter said, narrowing her eyes. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you would be considered a high-value target by them. If they were to see you, they would do everything in their power to eliminate you?" James had a very good idea where she was going with this and nodded. "Then, as much as I would rather not be asking this, would you be willing to be bait?" He nodded again, slowly. "Thank you. Do not overextend yourself, enter the town center, make as if you are moving towards the captives, then fall back to us. We have no idea how many there are in there, nor where they are."

"At the moment, no. But that's easily fixed." Winter blinked in confusion, but understand dawned on her face as he glanced at ED-E. He had given her a very detailed description of what the eyebot was capable of, including his most useful feature. "ED-E? How many and where?" The robot floated forward a little bit, staring in the direction of the town, humming softly. Then he began to beep.

"Four are in the house to the right at the end of this road. Two of them have heavy weapons. There's a dozen in the leftmost house on the far end of the square, only one heavy weapons person with them, and another dozen are at the head of the square, they look like the most heavily armed," the robot beeped diligently. James translated quickly while Winter spoke into her short-range radio piece informing the other teams of the new information.

"So, they have just as many people as we do," Jaune said nervously, glancing into the town. "We can take them right?" James couldn't help but notice that Jaune looked very uncomfortable. The boy was gripping his weapon much more tightly than was needed

"Launching an ambush where your position has been given away is just as bad as being ambushed yourself," Pyrrha said confidently. "I mean, there's no one else is there?" she asked.

"...No one alive," ED-E said. The robot's simplistic method of communication didn't leave much room for emotional expression, but James noticed that the pitch of the beeps was slightly lower. "I see one more body, just before the square. Hanging from a tree. It's not moving. No way it's alive." James grimaced. No doubt another message from the Legion. You better get in here fast, we're not afraid to kill them. Here's the proof. Grimly, James repeated what he had been told.

"I thought you said the town had been evacuated," the member of Team CRDL with the green hair, Russell, said. Panic wasn't so much seeping into his voice as it was overtaking it. "Where did all these people come from?" James frowned. Russell was starting to panic, but that had been a good question. One that Ren answered right away.

"It wasn't mentioned that much, everything else overshadowed it, but some bodies weren't recovered after the last attack," he said, his voice firm but focused. "Many thought they had just been eaten by Grimm, they were swarming over the attack site for hours afterward. It looks like they were taken prisoner instead."

"Oh. They're gonna pay," Nora said, her grip slowly tightening on her hammer. James felt rather disturbed at that. He had barely interacted with the redheaded girl, but his observations from a distance had painted her as more plucky and happy go lucky than anything else. But she had spoken with true hatred and anger in her voice. Still, anger was more useful than panic, the panic that was slightly present in Jaune and overwhelmingly present in Russell.

"Shouldn't we wait for back up?" Russell said, looking at everyone, his eyes wide with panic. "The situation's changed, hasn't it? We were supposed to dig in and wait for the Fang to come to us. Wouldn't it be smarter to wait until the other arms circle in and we can hit them all from both sides?" James mulled it over. Russell was clearly panicking, but his ideas weren't bad. It would be safer to hit the town from three directions as opposed to just one. Winter, though, had other ideas.

"If they didn't have hostages, we would do just that," Winter said. "However, when a hostage taker sees that they are surrounded on all sides, nine times out of ten they will attempt to execute the hostage. We need to move in now and save them while we can."

"You heard the lady, man. Quit whining," Cardin said dismissively. James focused on the leader of Team CRDL. He didn't sound as apathetically confident as he had the day before. He was more spooked than he was letting on. James had a bad feeling about that.

"Mr. Walker, you're on point. Fall back the moment you're fired upon. You're bait, but I want you walking out of this alive," Winter said, staring firmly at Cardin as she did.

James steeled his nerves and checked his magazine one last time. He reminded himself that he had the Bloody Mess magazine ready to go, if he had his back to a wall he would see what it did on an enemy and that Wild Wild Wasteland should be recharged by this point. "ED-E, come on," he said, dashing forward with rifle in hand and ED-E by his side.

James wasn't military, despite the NCR Rangers having displayed an open interest in having him among their ranks. Despite that, he had worked alongside them enough to have learned a few of their tactics. He took the path to the town square bit by bit, stopping at every intersection to hug a wall and check the corners. It would have been easy to just say that ED-E hadn't spotted anyone outside of the square and that he should just move forward quickly, but ED-E had only spotted people. It was always possible that there were traps that ED-E's sensors didn't detect. The Legion hated and didn't tolerate traps until the opposite was true. Usually when Vulpes's cronies were involved.

When he reached the halfway point, he saw the body that ED-E had been talking about. A woman in a blue sleeveless jumpsuit with an orange trim, mid to late 40s by the look of her, was swinging lifelessly from a tree that had been planted in someone's yard. Her bright, pink tongue was lolling out of the side of her mouth. Her face was splattered with blood. He looked up at her. "I'm sorry," he whispered, before pressing on. A few more intersections and he was on the brink of breaking into the square. He glanced back.

Winter had advanced her soldiers and the students forward but had stopped partway into the town, just ahead of the hanging body. "Any direct sightings?" Winter's voice crackled over the radio?

"Negative," James said. He glanced ahead. There was only one intersection left between him and the clearing at the center of the town. In the upper right corner of it was a two-story house that was a bright red. Four hostiles were clustered in that building, no doubt waiting for someone to head for the hostages so they could shoot them in the back. James took one of his two remaining plasma grenades and fingered the pin. If he could take one of the three groups out in a preemptive strike, it would shift the battle in their favor, as well as give both the White Fang and the Legion a reason to chase him. Both of them were proud and took it personally when he killed their kin, he had the scars to prove it. He grimaced. Part of him hoped the redheaded boy was here so that he could stop the little terrorist for good, while the rest of him hoped he never saw the little turd again. He had to focus.

"Grenade going out in ten," he whispered into his radio. "Get ready to go loud."

"Copy that," Winter said. "We're ready to move." James slid his thumb into the pin, ready to pull it out.

"Ma'am, hold. Private Turq is missing," an unfamiliar voice said over the radio. "Where is he? He was pulling rear guard duty, he was right behind us!" James paused, holding off on pulling the pin as he craned his neck to look over his shoulder. A missing soldier? What was going on?

And then a new voice spoke over the radio. A soft and gentle voice, almost musically so. "Grenades? You read my mind." And then a pair of explosions roared into life in the rear of Winter's formation. James spun, looking on in horror as two green spheres engulfed over half of the Atlas soldiers, sending a couple more flying through the air with missing limbs. James barely had time to make sense of the carnage before there was a unified roar from behind him and the sound of gunfire filled the air. Bullets pinged off his Aura as a dozen assailants wearing the armor of the White Fang filled the last intersection between James and the town square.

"Walker, take cover!" Winter shouted over the radio, but James was one step ahead of her. Flicking the pin out of the plasma grenade, James beaned the grenade at the mob before charging into the nearest building he could find. Smashing through the door, ED-E right behind him, he glanced around wildly for a window as the sound of gunfire outside intensified. Spotting one, he smashed the glass with the butt of his rifle before he began to fire wildly into the White Fang mob that was now moving down the street, emptying his magazine. He was certain he saw at least one fall over dead, but he didn't see anywhere near as many bodies as ten 12.7 mm rounds being fired into a tightly packed crowd should have produced. They had Aura.

Ducking back into the house as bullets began to tear through the window, he ejected his magazine before drawing a new one. It was the Bloody Mess one. He stared at it for a second before deciding he had nothing to lose and loaded it, then looking around the house he was in for a vantage point that wasn't being flooded with bullets. Just in time to see a window in the very back slid open and a blurry figure charge in.

It crossed the distance between them at a frightening pace, a shining knife in each hand, both of which were aiming for his throat. Not having enough time to aim, James threw himself to the side, sliding on the ground. The figure stumbled as it attempted to correct itself mid-dash, one knife being too far away while the other one still came down on him. Thinking fast, James put his rifle between himself and the incoming attack, the knife burying itself in the stock. Twisting his rifle, he yanked the embedded knife out of his attacker's hand before forcing himself to spin on the ground, sticking his leg out in a crude variation of the Ranger Takedown.

He managed to trip up his attacker, bringing them crashing to the ground, but they rolled away at once, a safe distance from any retaliatory strike. James did the same, wanting to keep some distance from the remaining knife. Both of them recovered, getting to their feet, with James aiming his rifle at the figure and finally getting a good look at her.

It was the woman who had been hanging from the tree.

James blinked in disbelief as he stared at her. She wasn't a Faunus, so she had to be Legion, particularly since she had used plasma grenades on the Atlas soldiers. In fact, now that he looked closer, her outfit looked like it had come from Earth instead of Remnant. It was like a sleeveless version of a Vault jumpsuit, complete with a bright orange number twelve on the back. Just above her right breast was wording in orange letters that read "Tibbets Prison."

A woman from Earth willingly fighting for the Legion. In this most secure of Legion expeditions. "What? WHAT!? THE FUCK!?" he internally screamed.

She had a pair of knives sheathed at her side, in addition to the one still in her hand. She tapped one of them with her free hand. There was a pop and an exact replica of the knife appeared in her hand from nowhere.

She grinned. There were tiny scars all over her face, knicks that looked like they had come from blades, a bit of her bottom lip was missing, and there was a black tattoo just over her eye of the Roman numeral XII. Now that she was closer, James realized that while her face was covered with blood, she didn't have any open wounds. And that the blood was all centered around her mouth. "Hey," she said in her soft voice. "So. The Hanged Man the Hermit finally meet. Name's Marie F.. I'm Caesar's new favorite. Nice to meet you. Caesar's been talking a lot about you. I wanted to see if you lived up to the hype." Somehow her grin got even bigger, and with another pop, she was now holding two knives in each hand. "Don't disappoint me." She tossed two of the knives at him as James opened fire. ED-E, having held his fire while James and Marie had been too close together, joined James in firing on the woman.

XXXXX

Author's Note: It just kind of hit me as I was writing this chapter, but if this was an RPG, there would probably be branching questlines based on whether you sided with Ozpin or Ironwood.

Also, I mentioned this before, but I had a certain framework in mind as I designed James's character. There's a fair bit of personal touches there but a lot of it was built on the foundation of "what would a pro-NCR, good karma Courier be like? What do these context clues say about him? How would the various quest lines have affected him?" And James Walker is my answer to that question.

However. I asked myself another question. There's always something about the Legion I've found fascinating. Even if you're a woman, you can side with them. Now the Doyalist (out of universe) reasoning behind that is obvious, Obsidian didn't want to cut off one of the quest line options because of a choice made in character customization. But what are the Watsonian (in-universe) reasons for why a female Courier would side with the Legion? What would a pro-Legion, bad-karma female Courier be like?

Marie F. is my answer to that question.

In broad strokes at least. This isn't a case of "there's actually two versions of the MC, one good and one evil," I've seen a couple of stories where there was a good Lone Wanderer and an evil Lone Wanderer. There's only one Courier, and that's James. But Marie F. IS a Fallout protagonist. The Prisoner. The main character of the Fallout game that almost was, Van Buren. With some additional inspiration sprinkled from a party member that was almost in Van Buren, the Hanged Man. A man that was stupidly strong and tough (to the point where he's found hanging from his neck by a tree and he's more bored than anything else) but would have caused you to be hated by almost everyone because he had committed so many vile acts.

So just to clarify, Marie F. was the result of a melting pot where the mindset of a pro-Legion and bad karma Courier were thrown in with the history of The Prisoner and traits of the Hanged Man, along with a lot of my own personal touches. I'm actually really excited to reveal her (I thought I was being too obvious with there being a woman's face on a Legion coin, what with a Pro-Legion Courier getting a coin minted after them, but hey! No one noticed!) and I hope you guys enjoy reading about all the vile vile shit she will be doing. Because she IS a bad-karma Fallout protagonist. With everything that entails.

Also, IRL, specialist is not a very high rank. It's one of the junior enlisted ranks and has a pay grade on par with that of a corporal, without the benefit of being considered an NCO. Winter though? She has her own personal airship that seems to be directly related to her duty as a specialist. Junior enlisted ranks don't get personalized aircraft. I get the feeling that in Atlas, specialist means something more along the lines of special forces. Considering that Winter reports to Ironwood directly, I'm all but certain that this is the case.

I would like to thank my Patrons, SuperFeatherYoshi, xXNanamiXx, RaptorusMaximus, Davis Swinney, Mackenzie Buckle, Josue Garcia, and Jonathan Eason for their amazing support.