"So, whose bed do you think Winston is using?" Yang asked as Team RWBY made their way back to their room.

"He better not have stolen mine." Weiss huffed.

"I'd be willing to give you my bed and share one with Yang." Ruby offered in an attempt to keep the peace between everyone.

"Yeah… not happening, Rubes. The beds here are way too small for two people." Her sister told her.

"I'd be willing to sleep on the floor if Winston didn't take mine already." Blake said.

"Oh, trying to put the moves on the new guy on campus?" Yang teased her partner, earning an unamused look in return.

"We all saw him limping earlier, right?" Blake asked, the rest of team RWBY nodding in cautious agreement. "He must have been hurt pretty bad if his aura hasn't healed his leg yet, so I'm willing to let him have my bed if it might help him recover faster."

"As if!" Weiss scoffed. "Next you're going to say that Ozpin put him through some sort of special exam and that's why we're getting an extra team member the day after our teams were formed."

The other three girls stopped and thought about the heiress' words, Weiss too taking a moment to consider what she had believed to be an impossible speculation that started to look more and more likely by the moment.

"Well, that would explain the limp." Yang said.

"We also would have had someone left without a partner if he had joined us during initiation." Blake reminded everyone.

Ruby also made her assumption, but with a far more serious face than her other teammates. "Ozpin did say that he had been through a lot, and Winston also told us himself that he's the only person from his 'regiment' who didn't… you know…"

Although the youngest member of Team RWBY didn't have the heart to say it, the rest of her team understood exactly what she meant. No matter how safe the academies tried to make their mandatory practical exams and assignments involving wild Grimm, there was always someone every year who couldn't overcome the challenge set before them. The girls were no stranger to death, but that didn't make the loss of someone they once knew any easier.

While it was bad enough to no longer see the student who had perished roaming through the halls alongside their team anymore, it was the changes their death had caused in their friends that was the worst. Few people took the loss of a classmate or close friend well after taking a moment to grieve, only losing themselves for a few days, weeks, or maybe even months before returning to normal. Some were left shattered by the loss, but were able to recover in time, albeit changed from having lost someone they had once known. Others still never truly recovered and ended up becoming a broken shell of who they once were.

For but a brief moment, a flicker of fear wormed its way into each of the girls' minds as they recalled what Winston had said about the people he had known and lost.

They died. I didn't.

There had been no sadness, no anger, no emotion behind a single word when discussing his allies' fate, or anything else he said for that matter. Only simple recognition of something that had already happened. A normal person would have at least faltered saying such a thing, if they didn't find a better way to acknowledge the deaths of the people close to them altogether. As Team RWBY was already quite aware, Winston was definitely not normal. Now they had at least one reason to blame for it.

Each of the girls felt a pang of sympathy for their new teammate. Whether it was having seen one of their own classmates disappear without warning, losing a brother or sister in arms against the injustices of the world, or having grown that much lonelier with every live report about an attack against the upper class of Atlas, each member of Team RWBY knew what it was like to lose someone.

The girls walked back to their rooms in a sullen silence as none of them were in any mood to talk once they started to recall the faded faces of the fallen, regardless of whether or not they were close enough to recall their names after so long and feeling even worse for having failed even that. By the time they had reached the door to their room, they were all ready to call it a night in the hopes that they could start the next day without feeling as depressed as they were now.

Team RWBY opened the door fully expecting to find their new teammate sprawled out on one of their beds, each of them quietly hoping it hadn't been theirs that Winston had claimed. Instead, they were surprised to see him exactly where they left him, along with his kitbag which was propped against Ruby and Weiss' bunk beds to support him as he slept sitting upright. It almost looked like he hadn't moved an inch since they went to eat supper and spend the rest of the evening messing around with Team JNPR, but the girls couldn't help but notice the numerous bayonets strapped to his chest which gleamed in the pale moonlight that poured into their room. There was something else pressed against his chest too, clutched so tightly that it was impossible to make out despite the obvious lump he held against himself even as he slept, but not nearly as eye catching as the numerous weapons that were visible.

"Huh, guess our tough guy really was tired." Yang muttered under her breath.

She made an attempt to walk forwards and see if he truly was asleep or had been waiting for them to return, but was stopped when Blake grabbed her hand and pointed to the shovel held tightly in his left hand. The blonde brawler gave her teammate a sheepish grin in apology before backing away to her own bed. Not wanting to disturb his slumber nor trusting him not to wake up at the worst possible moment, the majority of Team RWBY took their turns changing into their pajamas in their shared bathroom, the only exception being Blake who was fully confident in what laid underneath the bandaged armor of their new teammate. Once all the girls were changed and as the full weight of the past few hectic days finally crashed down on them, they each collapsed into their beds and quickly drifted off to sleep.

Not a single one of them were in any state to notice Winston's helmet carefully turn to watch over them, nor did they stir as he slowly rose to his feet, locked the door to their room, shut the window curtains tightly, and loaded a fresh power pack into his laspistol as he set it on top of his kitbag for quick access before weariness washed over him once more. Just because his own team did not take their own safety as seriously as they should didn't mean that he would let any harm come to them so easily.

"Bloody noisy cadets. I'm not letting any of you die on me that easily…"


The smallest sliver of sunlight slipping through the curtains was all it took to stir Winston out of his slumber. Rising to his feet in the panicked rush that all soldiers were familiar with when they realized they had overslept, Winston patted his trench coat down searching for his chronometer before remembering that he had lost it prior to arriving on Remnant. He cursed himself for failing to ask for a replacement earlier when he had a chance, especially since he didn't know how else to check the time to see if he was late for his first day of classes.

The thought of disappointing Inquisitor Ozpin so quickly filled him with dread, so much so that he ran outside of Team RWBY's room without thinking and nearly crashed into Team JNPR as they passed by. He would have crashed into Nora if she hadn't caught hold of one of his arms the moment he burst out of his room, spun him around, and threw him back where he had come from.

"Hee hee, gotcha back!" She giggled while Winston took a moment to make sure she hadn't ripped his right arm off.

Much to his surprise, it hadn't come off. Once he knew he was fine, Winston wanted to shout at her for both having touched him and doing something so reckless, but he couldn't help himself from appreciating the cadet's reflexes and Astartes' worthy strength. Perhaps she had managed to train underneath the Adeptus Sororitas before being kicked out for a lack of discipline? That would certainly explain her strength and eccentric nature, although not the lack of piety… unless that was why she had been discarded by them?

"Uggghh, keep it down." Weiss groaned from the bed beside Winston as he pulled himself back on his feet a bit slower the second time around.

"Yeah, give us five more minutes. We've got… plenty of time before classes start." Yang wearily added.

"We do?" Winston asked, his naturally soft monotone carrying far enough for Team JNPR to hear him.

Ren answered his question with a quick shake of his head. Neither he nor his team stepped in to try and wake Team RWBY up, and Winston didn't see any reason to do so either. The guardsman slunk back to the door without making a sound, swiftly gliding past his sleeping teammates with ease despite the heavy looking bag he carried with him before shutting the door and leaving the girls to fend for themselves.

"Aren't you going to wake them up?" Jaune asked him.

Winston turned to look at him, holding back his disappointment as best he could when the boy flinched away from his gaze. "The best lessons are taught through experience." He droned on, paraphrasing one of the many litanies he had learned as a juve.

"Did they forget to set an alarm?" Ren inquired.

"We all did." The guardsman admitted before quickly adding, "But I didn't have anything to set an alarm with."

"Oh, so you don't have a Scroll yet?" Pyrrah asked.

"...Scrolls can do that?" Winston muttered in amazement.

Omnissiah be praised! Was there anything a Scroll couldn't do? It was like a data slate, recorder and caster of picts and voxes, and even a chronometer too! If only the Imperium had something like this. No wonder the Inquisition had sent one of their own to this planet. Being able to reproduce these devices would be revolutionary!

...so long as they weren't heretical in nature.

"Yes, I can show you sometime if you'd like?" Pyrrah offered.

"I would appreciate any help you could provide, Cadet Nikos."

"You're welcome… Cadet?" She hesitantly replied, unsure of how to respond.

"Private." Winston quickly corrected.

"You're from Atlas?" Ren asked as it seemed reasonable enough to assume given that kingdom's notorious militarism.

"No. I'm not from any of the kingdoms you know of." Winston told him truthfully while adhering to the secrecy demanded of him by Ozpin.

"Really? That's awesome!" Nora shouted. "What's it like where you're from?"

"Nothing like here." He said.

The short brawler wasn't about to let him off with such a vague response, unlike her friend. "What do you mean by that?"

Unwilling to discuss the matter any further and not wanting to be late for his first day of classes, Winston changed subjects rather than risk exposing himself should Nora's interrogation go on as long as he feared it might. "Can one of you escort me to Professor Port's classroom?" He inquired, hoping one of the cadets would prove themselves useful. "I am still unfamiliar with Beacon's layout."

"Sure we can. We were just about to go there ourselves." Pyrrah said, her image quickly rising in Winston's eyes.

"Uhh… shouldn't you be wearing your uniform?" Jaune hesitantly interrupted, Winston only noticing the red and black dress uniforms that the blonde's team were wearing instead of the equally impractical attire he had seen them in earlier. "I know you probably don't want to change while the rest of your team is still in the room since you're a guy and all, but…"

The guardsman saw all of Team JNPR adopt a bashful look as Jaune in particular grew red with embarrassment at the mere mention of what the mixed dorms forced him to do. Winston couldn't understand what they could possibly be embarrassed about, having lived in a shared barracks with hundreds of brothers and sisters of Krieg for most of his life, and didn't bother inquiring any further since he doubted the blonde had anything important to add.

"Ozpin didn't have one ready for me. I'll have to wear my current one until then." He answered, still wondering why Team JNPR could no longer look each other in the eyes any more.

"Oh, yeah. That makes sense." Jaune shrugged as he and the rest of his team headed to Port's classroom in an awkward silence.


By the time Team JNPR and the guardsman had finally reached their destination, Winston was eager to get away from them. Pyrrah and Ren were bearable thanks to their silence and proper attitudes, but he could not say the same for Nora and Jaune. The bubbly girl had no sense of personal space, constantly edging closer and closer to him as he tried his best to maintain a healthy distance away from her in between the constant barrage of questions she pestered him with. He thought she would have eventually fallen silent after he refused to answer her, but that only seemed to make her that much more determined to get him to speak. As annoying as she was, her reckless enthusiasm at least made her tolerable, especially when compared to the leader of Team JNPR.

Everything about that blonde coward felt like an insult against everything Winston stood for. Never before had he seen someone look so totally unprepared in a combat environment, and even accounting for the coward's civilian origins the guardsman could not believe anyone could appear that incompetent. The boy was more timid than his own younger and inexperienced commander, body lacking the muscles he would have expected from someone who had trained to become a soldier or whatever the equivalent of this world called themselves, and somehow seemed even more ignorant of huntsmen and huntresses than himself, a complete foreigner to this planet! The guardsman felt reasonably confident that when the time came for him to officially join one of the teams of huntsmen-in-training, it would be to fill in the gap Jaune's inevitable death would leave for him. He hoped it would never come to that, but what little he had seen from the boy so far did not inspire him with any confidence whatsoever.

Thankfully Team JNPR knew enough to leave him alone once they entered the classroom. Winston felt strange walking back into another schola setting after having learned everything he needed to know outside of a battlefield during his early juve years, but still found himself wanting to see what wisdom a huntsman turned professor could share with him. Judging by the wall of notes written on the chalkboard at the front of the classroom, each one accompanied by a small yet highly detailed diagram of the Grimm they were related to, the korpsman felt that this class in particular might prove to be useful. At the very least, the insights a veteran combatant could share about the foes he had faced days earlier would pair well with what little he had learned from his encounter with them.

Winston started taking notes as soon as he claimed a few seats for himself and Team RWBY, whenever they finally arrived. Thankfully the stylus that came with his genescanner was usable with his Scroll, allowing him to treat it as a data slate alongside the other amazing things he had learned it could do. He began to document and organize files on each creature detailed on the board and a few for those he had slain in Greenleaf but were not listed. It was tedious work, more fit for a scribe of the Administratum than a trained soldier of the Astra Millitarum, but work that the guardsman nonetheless carried out with meticulous care. Accurate accounts of the enemies of mankind were rare, the infamously awful misinformation contained within the Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer being the most blatant example.

While the instructors that beat their many, many lessons into him on Krieg had been insistent that knowledge was worthless compared to the might of the Emperor and humanity, Winston found that such sentiments were likely to anyone who took them seriously killed. The majority of his superiors also seemed to agree with this sentiment as far as the enemy was concerned, but only went so far as to share the bare minimal amount of information so that they would not perish during their first hostile engagement. His personal insistence on learning and adapting to his enemies tactics and strengths might have made him a pariah amongst most of his brethren in the Death Korps, but it also aided him in killing his enemies more times than he could count. Knowledge might not mean much in the face of the foe, but knowing where to shoot said foe for the best results certainly did.

The korpsman had just finished copying the notes on King Taijitu when Professor Port, an aptly named overweight man with an air of confidence about him almost as large as his silvery gray mustache, walked into class, his gaze focusing on the four empty seats beside Winston as he glanced at the clock. The professor stared at him for a moment as if expecting an answer, to which the guardsman only shrugged. His response was apparently enough to convince the old huntsman to start class since the rest of his students were already present.

"It's good to see most of our newest generation of huntsmen and huntresses are ready to begin their first steps in rising to the challenge set before them, to become huntsmen whose names will be remembered for ages to come!" Port said, his opening statement sounding eerily similar to the intolerable prattling most official Imperial documents Winston had seen.

As if spurred on by the professor's recognition of their absence, the four girls of Team RWBY sprinted in and claimed their seats just as the bell announcing the start of class rang out. Rather than call them out as they caught their breath, the Professor Port simply carried on with only the slightest twitch of his mustache giving away his amusement as he waited for them to get settled in.

"Monsters, demons, prowlers of the night! Yes, the creatures of Grimm have many names, but I merely refer to them… as PREY!" The professor exclaimed, Winston taking meticulous notes on the lecture in the hopes that Port might eventually say something useful.

He doubted it, but there was always a chance the unexpected could happen.

Winston did his best to record everything the professor rambled on about, going so far as to separate the intermittent tangents the veteran huntsman went on in their own file so as to draw upon any wisdom they possibly contained in the incredibly unlikely event he ever found the time or reason to do so. The instructor's slow, dramatic style of presentation left Winston with plenty of time to conduct his own research on relevant topics once Port himself ran out of semi-relevant things to say before he eventually started recounting his life's story for some inexplicable reason.

A quick glance at the rest of the room showed Winston that he was not the only one trying their best to make use of the time the long winded professor seemed insistent on wasting. Most of the cadets in the classroom seemed to have fallen asleep at some point before the lecture turned into one long rant, Ruby being one of the more disappointing faces he had noticed amongst them. Others were barely containing their contempt for the professor, whether it was for failing to provide them with any relevant information like Weiss who seemed to be glaring at Ruby as much as she did at Port, or at some of his previous asides such as Yang.

Only a select few seemed to be making the most of their time and were taking notes, Ren, Blake, Pyrrah, and himself being the only ones who apparently hadn't given up on learning anything yet. Winston couldn't fathom what they could possibly be doing by just copying the useless anecdotes of a man whose glory days were clearly behind him if his current position as an instructor was anything to go by. Regardless, he kept an ear open in the hopes of hearing something he could potentially find useful as he scoured the resources his Scroll had access to in search of anything he could learn about the Grimm.

Port was meant to be instructing them on the best ways to fight against those vile creatures if his previous introduction was anything to go by. If the old huntsman wasn't going to give him anything useful, then Winston didn't see any other choice than to find it on his own. It wasn't the first time he had to break away from standard protocol to fulfill his purpose.

After a couple of hours had passed by without ever bothering to get back on topic, Port seemed to have finally noticed that the overwhelming majority of his class was no longer paying attention to him as he reached the intricacies of cabbage farming that his grandfather had taught him, and stopped speaking for the first time since class started. Winston didn't even have to look up from his Scroll to tell that the professor had only fallen silent because he was looking for the most unsuspecting victim he could find to expose their incompetence and berate them in front of the entire class. It was a common tactic used in the Death Korps, but one that ended with far less lethal results elsewhere in the galaxy from his understanding.

And much to the korpsman's surprise, Port had chosen him as the victim.

"Mr Voytoski, hard at work on your Scroll I presume?" Port boomed, his boisterous voice grabbing the attention of everyone in the room.

"Sir, yes sir." Winston droned dutifully, Port chuckling at what he thought was a desperate attempt to flatter him.

"Then perhaps you can tell me some characteristics of Boarbatusks that I discussed earlier?" Port asked him. "It should be easy enough if you were paying attention to my story."

Winston couldn't see the smug smile hidden beneath the professor's mustache, but he could certainly hear both it and the challenge presented before him. The instructor thought he could embarrass a guardsman from the Death Korps of Krieg for dereliction of duty.

The fool!

"Would you prefer to have me start with their habitat, strengths, weaknesses, tactics, regional variants, or general physiology before moving onto the more minor details, Professor Port?" Winston innocently inquired.

The professor looked surprised for a moment, and soon let out a laugh that shook his belly now that it seemed he had chosen his target poorly. Not willing to let an opportunity pass by him, Port quickly gave the guardsman his answer.

"Why don't you tell the class a few general facts?"

"Very well, sir." Winston replied, pulling open the document he created for them on his Scroll during Port's ramblings for reference.

"Boarbatusk are small sized suidae-esque Grimm whose greatest strengths are easily their thick, heavily armoured carapaces and large tusks which they wield with great effectiveness in combination with their surprising speed. They prefer to charge down their foes by rolling into a ball which protects their vitals and makes them nigh unstoppable as they chase down their prey, although there are plenty of ways to stop them before they can close in for the kill." Winston explained, not even bothering to check his Scroll since he wrote all that down and more while waiting for Port to say something important.

Apparently, just that was enough to impress the portly professor who interrupted him before he could continue. "Very good, Mr Voytoski, but I would like you to not waste your time watching videos on your Scroll during my class even if you do know more than most huntsmen about the rarer varieties of Grimm." Port teasingly reprimanded.

"I was using it to take notes, sir." Winston defended, presenting his Scroll to prove himself.

Port took the opportunity to check and, sure enough, it had all of what Winston said about Boarbatusks and more in the document he looked through. On top of that, it was organized with a distinct break in between the few details Port had provided about them during his story, what appeared to be the korpsman's own observations on the creatures, and sections for uncertain information and tactics on how best to deal with them. Very thorough, Port had to admit.

"I see. I'll be expecting great things from you." He said, before turning his attention to the rest of the class. "All of you."

"In fact, I just so happen to have several Boarbatusk prepared for a live demonstration on how best to deal with the unusual challenge such a heavily armored foe presents." Port continued. "Only a true huntsman can properly eliminate one of these mighty beasts as, despite their small stature compared to other Grimm, they are no less deadly because of it."

"A true huntsman must be honorable. A true huntsman must be dependable. A true huntsman must be strategic, well-educated, and wise! Who among you believes yourself to be the embodiment of these traits and would like to give us all a demonstration on how to properly fight a Boarbatusk?"

And there it was, yet another theatrical tirade. Winston let out a sigh as his impression of the veteran huntsman dropped almost as low as that of the drunk while he raised his hand to answer the professor's call to action…

"I do, sir." Weiss shouted, who had not only beaten him to the punch but went so far as to mock him in the process.

Apparently he had somehow injured her pride, not that he particularly cared what the arrogant little fob thought about him. No, he didn't care what petty acts the noble performed in the slightest nor the obvious insult directed at him. Not one bit.

He also would not enjoy watching that snot nosed brat get exactly what was coming to her once the Grimm humbled her. He absolutely would not do any such thing, as it was obviously beneath him.

"Perfect, I'll have the room set up for you in five minutes. Go grab your equipment and come back here when you are ready." Port told her.

Winston watched in silence as the other students chatted amongst themselves, voices ranging between excitement at seeing a rare type of Grimm for the first time or insults pointed at his teammate for making it clear she thought she was somehow better than them. The latter was an apt criticism to make, but not one that he was willing to let go uncontested for long. An insult against one member of his team was an insult to them all, and he would be sure to make the offenders pay the price for it during training. The korpsman made sure to remember the faces of each of the four boys insulting his teammates for later when he had the opportunity to make an example out of them, especially the redheaded brute that appeared to be their leader.

"So… how are you liking it here so far?" Ruby suddenly asked him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"I expected something… different from the best academy on Remnant, Commander Rose." Winston answered, failing to find the words to describe exactly what he had seen at Beacon so far as he started wondering if taking Ozpin's offer had been the correct choice after all.

"You too, huh?" The tiny huntress sighed.

Not wanting to continue waiting in silence and fearing Port might start ranting if enough people stopped talking, the guardsman tried his best to talk with Ruby. He didn't have much experience conversing with civilians, or anyone outside the Death Korps for that matter, but that didn't mean he couldn't at least try to build rapport with his commander. If only he knew how though.

"Have you seen Weiss fight before?" He asked, thinking he might as well discuss their teammates' upcoming fight after failing to come up with anything else.

"Yeah, she's really good with her rapier and her semblance lets her do a lot of cool stuff with dust." Ruby told him excitedly now that the topic had moved onto her area of expertise.

"Do you think she can pierce through seven inches of hardened bone?" He asked, already suspecting how the upcoming battle was likely to go.

"I… don't know." Ruby answered after giving it a moment's thought. "Why are you asking? Are you interested in her weapon too?"

"Not particularly. I'm just curious" Winston lied, easing back in his chair now that he had something to look forward to.

Not that he was going to watch his teammate struggle in a battle purely for the entertainment it would provide. Such things were beneath him, after all. There was no way he was going to find a little bit of satisfaction in watching the noble being humbled before everyone.

No, he was going to enjoy it for everything it was worth.


Special thanks to Tireless Traveler for beta reading this chapter!


Author's Corner:

I've never really thought about this before until now so I've gotta ask: Am I the only one who thinks the average W40K character's mind would be blown at the sight of a modern day smartphone or similar device that could do more than just record text, tell time, or only be used for communication and nothing else? I'm pretty sure they would be as impressed as they would be likely to decry it as technosorcery, the only exception being the Mechanicus who would be too busy oiling themselves over such a 'discovery'? I mean, I can't be the only one who can't think of a singular handheld device in the Imperium other than a servo skull or cherub servitor that can do more than one pre-assigned task, right?


Comments:

SomePervyGuy: (The psyker issue and why it is an issue)

I've always seen the DKoK as EXTREME pragmatists, from their inclination to using weapons notorious for immolating their own users to gleefully sacrificing themselves to hasten an inevitable Imperial victory. Running on this logic, and that of a Krieger that has somehow failed to die honorably alongside the rest of their regiment, is it really that much of a stretch to see said Krieger willingly damn himself in order to avoid a repeat of his past failures, continue protecting humanity more effectively, and avoid bringing further dishonor upon his ancestors and himself should he happen to fail again?

Besides, the DKoK are just human resources after all. Who cares if one lowly korpsman is lost to the Emperor's guiding light so long as they take as many of the enemy as they can screaming to the Warp with them?

Ghost of the Drive-in: "For those we cherish…" you know you've been getting too deep into a fandom when four words explain why an OC is absolutely traumatized.

As bad as the implications of an encounter with the luckless sons of Sanguinius are, there's already more damning hints about the things Winston has gone through in previous chapters. It's kinda telling how rough of a time a character has had in W40K when they can consider an encounter with these guys a GOOD EXPERIENCE.

SargeDornan: Man I'm glad someone finally gave those unlucky sonova's of the Lamenters some respect, from a Krieger no less

I honestly thought these two would get along quite well considering how similar their shames are. There might be some disagreements on what they would consider 'acceptable losses' however…


Well, I think I've rambled on for long enough. As always, thank you for reading and I hope to see you all again in the future.