Chapter Two: Setting the Stage

The sky was a dull gray, as if the clouds were mourning the death of the land below. The only bright spot was the massive ship that hovered over the barren terrain like a vulture waiting for its prey. Inside the ship, Jaune Arc stood in front of a large holographic screen, watching the movements of his soldiers and the grimm. His uniform was his usual dress shirt and suit vest combo, more like a businessman than a soldier, now with an earpiece that connected him to his team. He looked calm and confident, and his voice was even. He was a man who had risen from a humble background to become a leader of men, a hero of war, and a legend of history.

On the outside, the ship was armed with cannons, artillery shells, and lasers in equal abundance, flanked by dozens of data-collecting drones. The inside of his ship, named Guardian's Shield, was a futuristic command center with various screens, holograms, and consoles displaying data and every type of map one could need. The walls and floor were sterile metal veined with wires and Dust-powered lights. Guardian's Shield was not just a mobile weapon—it was an entire base in the sky, with a medical bay, barracks, a food court, and more. The ship was designed to be a mobile home for Jaune's legion and a symbol of his power and authority, a privilege granted to all Praetorians.

"Alpha Team, move to Sector 12. You have a large pack of Beowolves heading your way. Bravo, cover them from the air—I see some pincers coming their way from the East. Delta, keep on standby—we don't want any surprises." Jaune spoke in a clear and authoritative voice, issuing orders to his subordinates. He was the commander of this operation, and he had to make sure everything went smoothly.

On the ground, his soldiers followed his instructions, moving in uncanny sync. Their signature armor was of green and brass, with helmets that concealed their faces and filtered air, carrying various weapons—ranging from guns to swords to scythes. At a distance, they looked like machines, cold and efficient, as they slaughtered grimm without mercy. The grimm were twisted creatures of darkness, with red eyes and black fur or scales. They roamed the land, killing anything that had a soul to spite their own hollow existence. They were the enemy of humanity, and so they had to be exterminated.

Jaune had his forces split into three groups, with each individual's IFF signal a dot upon the massive hologram. The center force, Alpha, was by far the largest, with easily an equal number of bodies to both Bravo and Delta combined.

A soldier stood in front of a large viewing port built into one of the walls, gazing at the lush landscape below. He could see the flashes of gunfire and explosions mixing into what was normally a serene forest, now scarred with the bodies of grimm and some civilians alike. He could hear the faint sounds of explosions and roars and the constant chatter of his comrades drifting all the way up here.

"God, this shit is boring," Semjaza pouted.

Jaune looked up from his console, looking at the only other person in the command bay. "Surprise surprise, it's almost like I told you only one of us needed to be here." Technically, being a fellow member of the Praetorian Guard, there wasn't really a reason for him not to be here. Jaune wishes he could've declined his request, sure, but, unfortunately, when it comes to Praetorians as a class, there is usually no distinction in rank. While there are levels of respect and deference given to those of seniority, there is no actual hierarchy between them, with the obvious brief exceptions of if one happens to be selected as leader on a certain mission or if a new recruit is shadowing a more experienced member. When Semjaza, his senior, approached him, there had been no request, only the notice of "I'm coming with you." Even on his own ship, only the headmaster could kick him off.

"C'mon, you could've told me this was just a standard seek-and-destroy mission. I don't even see a single Alpha or Aberrant down there! Talk about boring!"

"I did; you ignored me. Quit your bitching," Jaune groaned. "Either make yourself silent or piss off and stop annoying me." He looked back at his hologram.

"Fine, changing topics, then." Semjaza pivoted quickly, sauntering over with unnecessary swagger, stepping up onto a small tier of steps. "How about you let me know about the new prisoner—what's the plan with her?"

"You're insane if you think I'm talking about this now." Things related to Maidens and magic went beyond mere government secrecy; as far as the world is concerned, neither actually exists. Jaune gave him a quick side-eye as he got within an arm's reach. "Also, man, go take a shower."

Semjaza took that question with a proud smile. "And why would I do that?"

"You smell like stale pussy."

Semjaza seemed almost proud. "And you say that like it's a bad thing. I tell 'ya, there ain't nothin' more natural in the world for a man to smell like."

Jaune rolled his eyes. "Radiation is also natural, doesn't mean I want to smell plutonium."

"Oh, don't judge me, Arc." Semjaza hopped up onto the console, using it as a seat. The fact that he didn't sit on any buttons was a product of luck and nothing else. "I know you and that wife of yours are just as degenerate as me, so don't go impugning my character."

Jaune looked at him like he was stupid. "I'm not impugning your character, dumbass; I said you smell like a whorehouse and it's unpleasant; pretty sure we could use you as bait for deep sea fishing."

"Oh, haha." He scoffed. "And here I thought you had a thing for whores."

Jaune glared at him with evil eyes, his warning to shut up as explicit as words. His fellow Guard didn't think too much about it. Semjaza held up two fingers. "Also, I'll have you know, it was two—twins, in fact. Don't insult me."

"And I'll have you know, threesomes are only impressive to boys whose sex lives consist of screens. Now, for gods' sake, if you're not gonna take a shower, then go take a swan dive out of a window or something; you're stinking up the room." Jaune looked back at a holographic map.

Semjaza clicked his tongue a few times in mock disappointment. "What's the world coming to? My junior is telling me to kill myself; where's the respect, the love?"

"I threw it out the window; go fetch."

Doors opened with mechanical hissing, interpreting their conversation. Cardin Winchester took two steps. He froze. Here, in this one room, Praetor General Semjaza and Praetor General Jaune, it felt like he had stumbled into a room containing two weapons of mass destruction.

These two men were at the highest level any huntsman can attain outside of a council seat; as far as standard government hierarchy goes, there is no greater position than them. Either one had an intimidating presence; the two of them together were damn near suffocating. Members of the Praetorian Guard are known by many, but few would ever see one in their life, let alone multiple at the same time. The number of Praetor Generals has never, in all of Vale's history, exceeded eleven at one time; they are the few who excel in both mental and physical prowess, all of them armies unto themselves.

Their influence isn't just relegated to Vale, either. The kingdoms across the world have long made issue of the very existence of Vale's Praetorian Guard, acting as something of a strain on diplomatic relationships. Praetorian Generals possess such high esteem across the world that many of the greatest warriors from other kingdoms flock to Vale in order to compete and see if they are the one in a million who can reach that level. Experts on international politics almost unanimously agree that the existence of the Praetor Generals is one of the greatest factors that swings the balance of international power in Vale's favor.

Wherever they walk, the scales of world power swing, and he was now in an enclosed space with them.

Why are two of them here again?

"S-sirs! Winchester reporting!" He gave an awkward salute to the two of them. His relationship with Jaune was friendly enough, despite their rocky history, but Semjaza put him on edge. "I received word from our border guards: the killing field is established—all grimm in the area are now within the perimeter. Awaiting further instructions."

A 'killing field' was a common method for dealing with grimm in a wide area. While a main horde is still rampaging, you set up a perimeter a decent amount of space away to keep any extra stragglers from surprising your main force as they engage with the primary mass. Simple yet effective, even in modern times.

Praetor General Semjaza, now disinterested all of a sudden, ignored Cardin and began walking out of the room. Cardin stepped aside to give his superior a wide berth; seemingly incapable of not being a smartass, Semjaza spoke up: "I'm going to the shoreline; maybe I'll get lucky and find a Leviathan to box with for a bit." He stopped and looked at Jaune with defiant eyes. "Or maybe some hotties to distract me." He sauntered out the door, leaving a confused Cardin behind a hissing door.

With just the two of them left in the room, Cardin gave Jaune a confused arch of his brow. "The hell was that about?"

"Semjaza being Semjaza, what else?" Jaune rolled his eyes. "And people call us degenerates." He turned back to his maps.

Cardin wasn't going to touch that. He walked to be beside his commander. Unlike Jaune's forces, his armor was steel-gray trimmed with gold, a dull color clashing with the tone of his burnt-orange hair and goatee, both cut short but clean.

"Anything else I can do, commander?"

Jaune raised a finger. "Firstly, stop with this 'commander' shit—I can't stand it. And no, I think we're good."

Cardin shrugged his shoulders. This isn't the first time he has told him to stop, but habits are hard to break. Normally, Cardin was under Fleet-Admiral Cole, the man in charge of Vale's navel and areal fleets, but he was currently out on sick leave, which was why Jaune and his forces were dealing with today's problem.

A larger-than-average horde of grimm, well over a thousand, had amassed and spread out way too close to Vale's walls for comfort. What's worse, two-thirds of the monsters had congregated around a simple village, ripping through its people and buildings like a tidal wave of crazed piranhas tearing at bleeding meat.

"If you didn't want to be called that, you shouldn't have taken the position—commander." Cardin teased.

Jaune groans. "Just... go to a window or something." He waved him away.

With a smile, Cardin did just that. His job was done, so why not watch the legion in action? Division 23 was Jaune's unit, and they've gained quite a reputation for themselves despite their nascent existence. Cardin watched from the ship's bridge with a bird's-eye view, looking down from a reinforced glass plane. As he did, however, he couldn't help but scrutinize the way they operate. This was his first time observing them in real-time, and he can now say he firmly believes the rumors.

The 23rd moved as if one unit, a hive mind led by Jaune from the airship, with mouthpieces on the ground. With one word from him, they split apart like ants and encircled a horde of Beowolf grimm before making first contact, swiftly culling them like sickened animals. With an utterance of a color they drastically change their formation and find hiding spots safe from aerial bombardment.

They didn't move like huntsmen. They moved as if this battle was an equation. There was no glory, no heroics, no romanticism—only the cold, efficient march of death and grimm extermination. Their weapons were nothing more than tools—things that could be broken, abused, and then replaced. These men were not huntsmen, at least not what most people assumed huntsmen to be, just as their leader wasn't.

Jaune was a complicated figure in Vale, specifically. Worldwide, the reason people know of him is most likely because of his triumph over the White Fang, a collective of faunus terrorists still bitter about the years of injustice from centuries past. His name became a household staple when, after a bomb destroyed one of Vale's embassies in Vacuo, Ozpin immediately named Jaune as the one who would deal with them. It was he who led the destruction of Lupercalia and decimated the world's largest terrorist organization within three months. His exploits there saved lives in the long term, no doubt about that, but short-term, the little war had caused about ten thousand deaths, although less than three hundred were on his side. It was this feat that pushed Jaune, already a rising star at that point, to Class A status.

His exploits over there made him controversial with some groups of faunus—unsurprisingly, but the general population of his own kingdom was a different story. His wife, Pyrrha, was often used as a vehicle to smear and landbast him publicly; her checkered fall from stardom years ago gave the whole world a peek into their odd relationship.

After becoming a Praetor General, with Ozpin's permission, Jaune reconstructed the whole huntsman system in Vale, beyond Beacon Academy. Over the course of fifteen months, a dozen redundant departments and hundreds of positions across the whole military complex were gutted; supply lines were strengthened with better trade deals with private companies; ammunition stockpiles were improved, along with the pipelines to get those munitions into huntsmen's hands; and their inventory systems were completely redone—just to give an idea of the scope of this project.

Worldwide, statisticians believe that, with these changes in place, Jaune will have saved an extra three million lives over the course of the next ten years. Three million lives were saved because of his actions, and few will ever acknowledge it, and even then, the minority who do will probably hold spite in their hearts. During this reconstruction process, Jaune fired over five hundred people, bad enough as is, but protests at the mass layoffs escalated into walkouts, adding another hundred to that list.

As much of a shame it is, the results speak for themselves; it was a blistering irony that the whole system became more efficient and more respectful to the people within after losing six hundred of them. With the sudden economic surplus flowing within the whole complex, Jaune even managed to put some extra benefits into all remaining huntsmen and those who lead them, as well as the administrators who get them the tools they need to fight mankind's enemy.

A few beeps of an alarm knocked Cardin out of his thoughts. The 23rd was finally near the heart of the horde of grimm, its center mass clearly visible on screen, flooding a poor village like ants invading a nest.

Cardin saw them taking up a formation, still over a mile away, and found that odd; were they going in on foot? He called out, "Aren't you going to blow them up with one of our railguns?"

"Well, the thing is, I would like to try and actually save some of those civies down there, but I'll keep your suggestion in mind." His sarcasm was thick, but Cardin didn't take it personally—this was simply how Jaune was.

Jaune belted out a string of instructions to his men. The center dots stopped, but the two lagging behind mobilized. The left group drew wide, doubling the distance between them and the grimm. Cardin could have assumed that they were encircling the horde, planning to attack from behind—a simple but effective strategy; however, his thoughts were called into question when a small section of five split off from the main group halfway through. On one of a dozen screens, he saw the splitter group begin deploying Mobile Automated Weapons (MAWs) at the highest points they had access to.

The right-hand mass encircled as well, but the whole group stopped halfway, though it still staggered from the splintered soldiers. In twenty-five minutes, the 23rd was now surrounding the village in all directions, with MAWs deployed and ready to fire. Jaune barked out more orders. The center group split. Half of the troops ran forward as his phalanx, pushing ahead into the decimated city and drawing grimm attention.

The 23rd met the grimm in melee. Shots drilled holes in heads and torsos, buzzing weapons energized with Dust severed limbs and bisected bodies. The noise of battle roared across the small village; grimm, spread far and wide, began sprinting towards the violence to join their monstrous kin against the humans, previous prey forgotten in savage bloodlust.

Jaune issued more orders from the command. The initial assault troops began retreating back into the woods. Simultaneously, the soldiers at the back burst forth and began cutting a swath through the village's rear in a pincer assault, engaging the grimm clustered at the opposite gate. The 23rd did everything they could to raise noise; from Aura shots to grenade explosions to yelling, they were trying hard to get attention. Mindless beasts that they were, the grimm took the bait predictably. For the most part, it worked, with most of them turning around and heading towards the new, larger source of violence making itself known. Those that continued to chase after the fleeing troops were quickly killed in a volley of shots as they rejoined the main force.

Within the village, turret fire opened up from the West. In three seconds, eight Beringels were killed. A few dozen Beowolfs and Deathstalkers split off from the main hard and immediately ran towards the soldiers behind the turrets. Soldiers from the East suddenly opened fire, catching this splintered force in-between two continuous barrages and multiple hundreds of bullets every thirty seconds. Within a minute, a hundred grimm were dead. The phalanx of the 23rd reemerged in full force, flooding into the village in a move to close off their encirclement, completely cutting off routes for the grimm to flee.

A blinking dot registered on radar with a chime. Jaune glanced at it for just a second before hitting a button on his console. "Room 31, there's a Nevermore to our south. Set power output to 85% and gun it down." Not long after, the gunfire rang. It was a deep, throaty sound that echoed within the airship. In seven seconds, more bullets were shot out of this one gun than the total amount expended by the current MAWs deployed. Pieces of Nevermore, more like ragged chunks, really, fell past the windows at the bridge. Cardin saw about two-thirds of the head pass his window.

In the village, man and monster clashed. Assaulted from the North and the South with soldiers on the ground and blasted from up high at the East and the West with turret fire, this collective stood no chance. Jaune's 23rd totally and effectively butchered every last grimm in the city with a cold, systematic precision; if these had been human combatants, the world over would have considered this a war crime. Over seven hundred grimm were killed in just ten minutes.

For the first time in what felt like hours, Jaune was able to stand straight and not hunch over a desk. His eyes stung from exhaustion. He had felt this pain enough times to know he was going to have a headache in a couple of hours. Bones creaked and popped; satisfaction filled his system like a drug as he stretched stiff muscles.

When he spoke, his voice was squeezed as the tips of his fingers aimed for the ceiling. "Well, it looks like I'm done for the day," Jaune said as he turned around on his heels. He looked Cardin in the eyes. "Think you can handle the cleanup?"

He saluted. "Of course I can," he said with shaky confidence.

After the tenth twist of his waist, Jaune reached to his side to unclip his collection of keys. "Good, because I've decided I'm taking the rest of the week off," he casually declared. The thick ring was tossed into the air.

Cardin scrambles in surprise to catch them. They were heavier than he expected. "Wait, seriously?"

"I've got a big mission coming up, and I still have to prepare for it," he said while rotating his arm. "If it weren't for the fact that Commander Cole was in the hospital, I wouldn't even be here right now." He shrugged. "But at least this gave my men something to do for a little bit. Even they'll get rusty if all they do is drills."

Cardin looked at the keys as if they were a manifestation of his anxiety. The keys to the whole ship, the holder being deemed de facto commander of the vessel. Taking charge was one thing; taking charge when Jaune was going to be away was another thing entirely. He looked at them for so long that when he next raised his head, Jaune was saying his goodbyes as the door opened. "Be seeing you!"

A second later, Cardin was alone in the command center, equally excited and anxious, hoping he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew. The door opened again suddenly, but only Jaune's head popped into the room. "Oh, and if you need anything, call Semjaza," he dipped back, and the door shut again.

Jaune walked down an illuminated hallway, the sterile metal devoid of any other life. Finally alone, he decided to swipe through the holographic screen of his scroll, checking for any personal messages he may have missed over the past hours. He only had two—one from his wife and another from a spam number. He smiled as he read the one from Pyrrha; she was confirming Ren and Nora were joining them for dinner tomorrow. He was going to ask if they wanted to go on this mission to Mountain Glenn. Even if they declined, it would still be nice to see them again; it's been almost a full year since his old team had been together.

The second message was flagged as a scam number, but he knew better. On the surface, it looked like just another piece of trash, but Jaune knew the difference. To those that knew the code, it was easy to decipher; replace certain keywords, ignore entire sentences starting with certain letters, and the real message became plain as day to him:

the Vytal Kings will meet tomorrow night, 3am, no exceptions

Looks like it's finally time to discuss his newly acquired prisoner.

(End of Chapter Two)

Author's Notes:...so, a bit late on this one, huh? I had several different versions of this chapter, including a version that was roughly double the word count, but I've come to a decision regarding the pacing of this story. In an effort to get chapters out faster, I'm gonna try breaking 'em up into their constituent segments. That way, instead of a 9k or longer chapter every six months, you get a 3-5k one every month or two (or at least, that's the plan; it's never a given). I've been testing this out with Spiraling and that's been doing well, plus it's a lot easier on me lol So, we're gonna see if I can keep up with this one as well.

Anyways, that aside, how was the chapter? Hope it was worth the wait.