The Sins of the Forefathers

Act the First: A Beacon of Hope

Author's Note: Hey! Welcome back. Thanks for reading, and sorry this took so long. I don't upload chapters until the next chapter's rough draft is completed. Well, hope you enjoy, and please feel free to review.

Chapter Two: No Stranger to Danger

It was early in the morning when I woke up. My Scroll's alarm had gone off at six, two hours before I had to get to work. It was quite the early wake up, but I was serious about getting into Beacon, and the only way that was gonna happen is if my abilities were up to par.

The first thing I did was a light warm up - some jumping jacks, and then kinetic stretching to get all my joints in motion. Neck rotations, shoulder rotations, hip rotations, pretty much every joint rotation you can think of. After that, I did some basic calisthenics to continue the warm-up. Pushups, situps, squats, the works.

Once I was all warmed up, I started practicing my hand-to-hand techniques. Nothing too serious- I was far from a proper martial artist. All I had been taught were basic boxing and kickboxing drills and some close-quarters strikes for disabling attackers. I had also been taught some basic grappling escapes and maneuvers, but they weren't the kind of thing I could practice without the assistance of a partner.

Afterwards, I got out my knife and practiced a few drills with it. It was lighter than my sword, and I was better with it, though I wasn't proud of that fact. I practiced a few thrusts, parries, slashes, and a few hand-switch techniques that were useful if my weapon hand ever got grabbed or to fool an opponent with a feint.

Once I finished with my knife, I brought out my sword - Crocea Mors, my ancestor's. The fact that I wasn't skilled in its use was, all things considered, my dad's fault. He never taught me how to use it - hell, he never taught me how to fight anything, only how to think. Everything else I had to pick up on the go, and I wasn't lucky enough for my dad to know any short-sword wielders.

I pulled the sword from the sheath and activated the mechanism that transformed the sheath into a shield. Once I had strapped on the shield, I began practicing basic maneuvers that were described in the combat manuals I had brought from home. I performed basic slashes with the sword - centerline cuts, diagonals, horizontals, cuts and stabs to the throat and torso, and a few blocking techniques with the shield as well.

I didn't consider myself skilled enough to combine the sword and shield techniques seamlessly, so I didn't bother trying to do so. Once I had performed my drills a few dozen times, I checked the clock on my scroll once again - Six-fifty.
If I had had more time, and the necessary equipment, I would have practiced dry-firing with a pistol a few times for practice as well. But then, even if I had had a gun at the house, it's not like airport security would have let that past them. Only a fully fledged Guardian would have those kinds of privileges.

Which reminded me - I needed to make contact with some criminals. See if I could access the local black market, get a transcript to Beacon forged for me. And a gun, if I could find one. Without one, my effectiveness at medium to long range was virtually nonexistent.

In any case, I had to get to work. An hour was a lot of time, but I was new in town and I still needed to learn my way around the city. Plus I needed breakfast.

I grabbed my backpack, now empty, and put in a few basic essentials - one of my First Aid kits, my large Hunting Knife, my lockpicking set, and my multi-tool. I placed all these in the second section of the backpack, as I would be reserving the main section for groceries that I would get after work. I slipped my smaller knife in my pants, and placed my wallet and scroll in my pockets.

Speaking of my scroll, I turned it on and sent a quick text to Juli-

Hey Juli, I've arrived in Vale. Found a job and a place to live too- I got real lucky that my new boss was desperate for an employee. I'll call you after work.

-and then I stepped out of my apartment and locked the door behind me. I would have to thank Tukson again when I got to the store. A place like mine, for such a cheap monthly price? It really does pay to make connections, no matter where you are on the social scale of life.

I walked down the hallway and turned right towards the main entrance, and was honestly surprised to see Aurie already up and tending to the apartment. Less surprising was that she was spending her time dusting the lobby furniture. I waved a good morning to her and left the complex to begin my day.

Luckily, at this time of day most of the common thugs and delinquents weren't out and about, so I didn't have a lot of problems walking through town. Well, not that I would have had too bad of a problem to begin with. After getting things settled with Aurie last night, she and Tukson had told me of a relatively safe path from the apartment complex to the shop. It would be a rather long walk, following a road that basically served as the border between the slums and the city proper, but it was much safer than the path Tukson had driven us through.

On the way to the shop, I noticed a convenience store that was open early- an independant Vale brand, I figured, noticing the distinct lack of a Schnee snowflake on the signboard. The board itself read, "John's Quick Stop - Whatever you need, we can get!" A smaller board with smaller lettering underneath the main signboard added, "Within the limits of Vale law."

I chuckled and checked my watch. Seven twenty-five. I had time. I walked into the store and quickly glanced around to see what was available to me.

From the front of the store, I noticed a soda fountain in the back left corner, as well as an edge of the counter. A hot-food section - currently filled with what appeared to be breakfast sandwiches - followed along the left wall. On the right, closest to the door, a magazine and news section. As well as some maps. Those would be useful. Maybe an almanac would be around there somewhere. Separating the door from the cashier's counter was a few rows of, on the left, an assortment of snacks, and on the right, common toiletries and other such items. The back right corner of the store housed a refrigerated drinks section as well as a hallway that seemed to lead to the back offices, or perhaps the bathrooms.

Standing at the counter was a tired looking woman who, it seemed, was not quite the early riser that I was. She barely seemed to register my presence as I walked around the aisles, quickly taking stock of what the store had.

They had all the common brands - Schnee Sodas, Toothpastes, and the like - as well as a my favorite brand of cereal, Pumpkin Pete's. They seemed to have switched to a new celebrity mascot while I was in juvie, as Pyrrha Nikos wasn't on the boxes here. Or maybe it was a regional thing. Honestly, I wondered why they used her pictures in Atlas when she was a champion of the Mistral tournaments. Probably had something to do with the Atlesian Military frowning upon commercial sponsorships.

Instead of Pyrrha Nikos, it was a picture of Ozpin, the current Headmaster of Beacon. I suppose it made sense for them to market their cereal with one of the most easily recognized figures of the city.

I scouted out the book and magazine section next. They did indeed have maps of the city and country, as well as almanacs and tourist guides. They also had a few popular gossip and hobby magazines and a few popular novels. In particular, my eyes caught a weapons magazine that announced a new line of Atlesian Military model handguns. I had heard as such while in juvie, but it would worth my time to investigate the specifics of the new models.

In any case, I would compare the prices of the reading material here with those at Tukson before settling on a purchase - though I'd probably come back for the maps at least, as I didn't see any while I was working the store yesterday.

Still, I didn't have too much time to muck around. I grabbed a breakfast sandwich from the hot foods section, a bottle of water, paid the cashier and left.

As I left the store, I noticed a man standing at the corner of the store's wall. He was eyeing me. He wore a black suit, red glasses, and a red tie, as well as a black fedora. As he spotted me, he pulled out his Scroll and spoke into it.

…

Geez, be more conspicuous, why don't you. I don't know who he's working for, but they should really hire better help.

I pretended not to notice him and moved quickly towards my destination.

Cinder sat in a car, waiting at the arrivals section of an airport. The car was nothing special - a simple black sedan, the type you would see anywhere you looked. It was legally licensed to her, though she hadn't bought it from a dealership or anything. Junior was good for a lot more than just information, it turned out.

As she sat, she continued to read The Third Crusade and took note of the strengths and weaknesses of the arguments it presented.

A few minutes passed before she received a text on her Scroll.

We've landed. We'll be out at the exit in 10.

Cinder opened the messaging app and replied swiftly before returning to her book.

Out towards the rear end of the pickup area. Black sedan, Sukima brand.

As she read, she uncapped a highlighter and took note of a particularly well-worded section - "Faunus philosophers have hitherto only interpreted the world, and Mankind's mistreatment of the Faunus, in various ways; the point is to change it. Thus the White Fang enacts its Third Crusade against the unrighteousness of Mankind, seeking to overturn their oppressive rule with action - with revolution."

She continued reading before a knock on the window alerted her that her contacts had arrived. Cinder looked up from her book and smiled as she unlocked the doors to her sedan and popped open the trunk.

The two back doors opened as a young man and woman entered the vehicle after they had put their bags in the trunk.

The young man had hair that was metallic-gray in color, and he needed a haircut. His hair was rather long for a boy, the front bangs almost reaching down to his mouth such that he had to keep sweeping them to the side of his face. In the back, his hair was spiked up so well you'd think he used hair gel, but it was natural.

The young woman had a short bob cut of green hair, but the bangs in the front had been perfectly styled to angle downwards towards the center of her face. She had two extra long lengths of hair in the back that reached her waist.

Both wore simple, casual clothing - the man had on a t-shirt and jeans, and the woman opted for a loose-fitting shirt that hung off of one shoulder and booty shorts.

As they buckled in, Cinder drove off from the exit, heading out to her current base of operations. She started to brief them on the situation as they went along.

"I've established contact with Roman Torchwick and Junior Xiong," she began. "Junior's vast connections are proving even more useful than originally thought - as you can see. His goons are available for hire for small jobs, and the local government overlooks such things because of his value as an informant for both sides of the law. He has access to the local black market, and he can get us all sorts of things - architectural blueprints and floor plans, forged documents, weapons, vehicles, profiles on important figures up to a certain degree, etcetera. According to the man himself, asking for profiles on people in the Vale Council or local Huntsmen past the Seventh Rank would be effectively pointless as digging up dirt on those types of people would require a significantly better intelligence network. Which is where Roman Torchwick comes in.
"Roman is cooperating as expected, though we're going to have to adhere to his rules of engagement during operations, at the very least while we're gathering intelligence. Unless I give a counteracting order, you will follow his commands to the letter during the coming missions. Is that clear?"

Both the man and woman nodded and replied with a succinct "Understood."

"Good. I contacted him earlier today, and he's surpassed my expectations. He's already come through with the first bits of information on our first target, as well as the local White Fang Captain and his Lieutenants. You'll get copies of their profiles as they're made - I expect you to keep up to date with them and memorize the effective bits. In your cases, I particularly mean their combat potential as is known.
"Also, there's been a slight change of plans - Roman isn't the only person I've deemed noteworthy enough to consider bringing into the fold. On the flight over here, I met with a young boy named Jaune Arc."

"Arc?" the young man spoke up in reaction to the name.

Cinder glared back at him through the mirror for interrupting. She waited for his silence before continuing. "Yes, Arc. He claims to be the descendent of Gaius Caesar. Considering Caesar's relatively slim family line, there may be merit in acquiring his cooperation in the future, as he might have connections to important figures in Atlas. To begin with, I've instructed Junior to look into him, and hired four of Junior's underlings to test Arc tonight. We'll be watching over the event from the rooftops. Now Mercury, you were saying?"

"It's not much, just that my dad had a rivalry - self proclaimed, of course - with another Assassin known as Jack Arc. If they're even remotely related, then we're gonna have to proceed cautiously with Jaune. If it turns out that we threatened his nephew or whatever, there's no telling how someone of Jack's caliber would respond."

"Is Jack Arc really such a threat?"

"My dad's not the only one who talked about him. He's a legend in the Assassin community - he got the nickname, "Jack the Ripper" because he once ripped a veteran Bushi limb-from-limb with his bare hands. Even if only half the stories about Jack Arc are true, they'd put him as one of the strongest Assassins in the world. Although, to get back on topic, whether or not he becomes a problem is strictly dependent on whether he's actually related to Jaune Arc."

"Yes, that will be an important distinction. However, I've already hired Junior's goons, so we'll make a decision based on the result of the test and Junior's information, when he gets it. Emerald, do you have any thoughts on our current situation?"

The young woman shook her head. "Not really. I've mostly operated by myself, so aside from a few fences back home in Mistral, I don't know much about the criminal community."

Cinder nodded. "Good. Have you anything to report from, Raven, Hazel, Doctor Watts, or Tyrian?"

"Um…" Emerald tapped her chin for a moment as she recalled what she had been told. She opened her mouth before reminding herself that she should speak accurately and to the point, as Cinder did. "Doctor Watts wanted to remind you that you'll have no help from the rest of the group. That our success here will be entirely dependent on our own abilities. He also said that he had an old colleague, a Doctor… M-something," she nervously coughed when Cinder glared at her for her forgetfulness, "-who operated out of a facility in Mountain Glenn. He said that if we had spare time, he would appreciate if we could explore the facility and recover any useful data or notes on the experiments that the Doctor had been conducting before the city's fall."

"Thank you Emerald. I'll have Junior look into the location. Is there anything else?"

"Raven also said to watch out for her brother. According to her, Qrow Branwen's typical activity is to patrol between the island of Patch, where he apparently owns a small property, and the City of Vale, taking a variety of routes to and from each place. He also teaches intelligence gathering techniques at Signal Academy every other year. Unfortunately for us, this is one of his off-years, so we're gonna have to be extra careful about planning things around him."

"Good to know. Someone of Qrow's caliber is above Junior, so I'll have Roman look into him."

With that, the car ride lapsed into silence for a few moments as everyone settled in and mentally reviewed the new information they had received. After they had done so, Cinder spoke up again.

"So how was your flight?" she asked. "It's longer from here to Mistral than Atlas, so it must have been boring."

"It wasn't too boring," Mercury shrugged. "They had a pretty good movie selection on the airship. I watched a documentary about Valese food. Apparently, there's a restaurant in the Eastern end of the Commercial District that makes this really good steak."

"...What was it called?" Cinder asked.

"Hmm? Oh, I wasn't paying much attention to what the guy was saying. I was just looking at the steak."

Cinder glanced back at Mercury through the mirror while Emerald decided to just turn and stare at him.

"What? It was a good looking steak! If you'd seen it, you'd understand."

Emerald rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Mercury. I spent my time productively. I memorized the map of the Beacon Academy grounds and read part of the book you assigned to us."

"And what did you think of Scipio's Commentaries on the Faunus Revolution?" Cinder asked.

"To be frank, it was bor-" Emerald stopped herself. Cinder wasn't asking for her opinion. At least, not on an emotional level. She wanted to see what she had learned. She paused for a moment and gathered her thoughts, taking time to structure her sentences like her Mistress would. "Well… I initially went into it thinking that he'd be arrogant about the whole thing, since he won in the end and since it's a human writer talking about a war against Faunus. But he actually maintained a pretty neutral tone when describing the battles. He analyzed his own choices and those of his men as well as those of his enemy from as objective a stance as possible, pointing out mistakes on both sides and praising what he thought was well done."

"So what did you gain from reading it?"

"More than anything else, I suppose the biggest thing I learned from the whole thing was that you can gain a lot of advantage by choosing where you fight ahead of time and leading the opponent into a vulnerable position through strategy. The way Scipio's opponent, General Barca, used the terrain, in particular large bodies of water like rivers and lakes, to trap the Atlesian army into a bad position again and again proved that good strategy and tactics can negate a raw numerical troop advantage."

Cinder nodded approvingly of Emerald's analysis, though her syntax was notably unusual. Was she trying to emulate her? Cinder was flattered, but copying the skill of another could only take one so far. She'd have to encourage Emerald to develop her own sense of individuality as an Assassin. "Excellent. Take that to heart. Good environmental awareness is key to avoiding ambushes and traps as well as preparing your own. Never let yourself be cornered."

"Right. Of course."

Mercury scoffed. "I coulda told you that much. Environmental awareness is the most basic of basics for understanding combat."

"But can you apply that understanding, Mercury?" Cinder asked. "Tell me what you would do if you had been led into an enclosed space, where your kicking techniques are not as effective as they could be?"

Mercury shrugged. "Create space. Fire off a few rounds at the opponent's feet to make them back up and then use straight-line kicks to break their guard before finishing them off."

"Hmm… Satisfactory, given the scenario I presented. However, clearly you must improve your hand-to-hand technique if you must rely on your legs to such a degree."

"Understood, Ma'am."

With Cinder's judgement passed, they continued to ride through Vale. On their way, Cinder pointed out places of note and continued to verbally test her subordinate's skills.

I sighed tiredly as I leaned on the counter at work. The day had been slow- only two men in the last six hours, and only one had bought anything. So after I spent the first hour or so making a mental map of where all the books were, there was nothing for me to do but stand at the counter and wait.

Tukson was out dealing with his family stuff - a sick kid, he explained - so I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. I should have gotten extra food ahead of time- a foolish mistake, one my stomach kept reminding me of. I wouldn't repeat it again.

As I ruminated on this, the door opened and a young woman with long black hair and amber eyes stepped in. She wore a casual shirt and jeans, and a rather large black bow on her head. I immediately stood up straight and gave a smile as I spoke the slogan to her.

"Welcome to Tukson's Book Trade, home to every book under the sun!"

She appeared to pause before remarking, "Oh right, Tukson did hire someone. I guess that's you?" she addressed me.

"Yes. Is there anything in particular you're looking for? Tukson didn't tell me he had any reservations set aside today…"

"No, just browsing. I like to come here whenever I have free time. Get away from the stress of- work, you know?"

I chuckled. "Well, this is my work, so not really. But I get what you're saying. Almost any place with books is a good place to relax."

She smiled back. "Yes, that's true."

"Since you're a regular, I assume you know where everything is?"

"Yes, don't worry about me. I won't tell Tukson you were relaxing on the counter."

"Hey, I was doing nothing of the sort! I was just leaning forward to get a better look at the comics at the front of the store."

That gave her a chuckle. "Right, I'm sure you were." With that, she set off and began perusing the novels on the left side of the store.

Silence reigned in the store for a few minutes before she picked up a particularly trashy romance novel. I was well acquainted with its quality thanks to my sisters- well, the ones who were old enough to read such things. They insisted I read it in their sisterly book club because they "wanted a boy's opinion of the story". I informed them that the author seemed to lack any sense of literary skill and was only good at describing people, places, and romantic scenes in a semi-poetic manner so as to appease to the lowest common denominator of people who read romance novels.

I was subsequently no longer invited to participate in my sisters' book club.

I couldn't allow anyone else to pick up that filth, so I spoke up. "I wouldn't bother reading that if I were you."

She glanced over her shoulder at me before turning to face me. "And why not? I happen to be a fan of this author's works."

"I can't speak for their other works, but trust me when I say that Ninjas of Love is a literary train-wreck filled with plot holes, inconsistent characterization, and erotic writing barely on par with the sort of bad fanfiction one might read on the net."

She assumed a facial expression that was half indignant sneer and half curious eyebrow quirk. "Oh really? Well, maybe it's just that I'm a fan of her other work, but now I feel the need to read it anyway just to see for myself."

I shrugged. "Well, I won't stop you from making your own decisions. But I will stand by my opinion that it's a bad book."

"So what would you recommend instead?"

I shrugged and said, "Well, that's basically the only 'romance' novel I've read, so without any sort of descriptor, I don't know what to give you."

"Well, I'm interested in fiction in general. Aside from romance, I like stories of heroes. People who fight for the good of all, that sort of thing. Or people who fight for a goal in general, doing all it takes in the pursuit of it. In terms of nonfiction, I mostly read history. Typically social history."

"Well…" I muttered for a moment considering her words. I then walked around the store and grabbed two books that I felt matched her description from both the fiction and non-fiction sections. "Hamlet, by William Shakespeare, and Scipio's Commentaries on the Faunus Revolution. Hamlet is about one man's quest for revenge and the struggles he faces in its pursuit when he discovers that his father was murdered. I like Hamlet as one of Shakespeare's darker works, an analysis not only of the act of revenge, but of mankind as a whole. The Commentaries are a historical narration and analysis of the politics, economics, culture, and military strategy that occurred between the author and his opponent, the Faunus general Ba'al Barca during the Faunus Revolution. It's a comprehensive and surprisingly objective account of the Faunus Revolution, despite the fact that it was written by the victor. I think these two fit your criteria."

She looked at the two books and read the more detailed summaries on their backs before nodding satisfactorily placing them both down on the counter along with Ninjas of Love. "I'll take them all," she smiled.

I smiled back. "Certainly." I rang them up and she paid for them in full. She refused the plastic bag I offered and carried all three to the door.

"I'll be back," she said. "And when I get back I'm gonna defend Ninjas of Love, as a fan of Aiko Aiya, and as a literary enthusiast."

I smiled. "Sure! Just make sure you read the others as well. Oh, I'm Jaune by the way. Jaune Arc. What's your name?"

She gave a small smile before she answered, "Blake Belladonna. Nice to meet you, Jaune." With that, she left the store.

…

"Blake, huh?" I said to myself. "Nice name."

I yawned as I exited the store, locking it behind me. Tukson hadn't showed up at the end of the day, so I assumed he'd pay me tomorrow. I probably should have got his number - it would make communication more simple.

I'd have to get groceries on the way home… and a map, maybe some local guidebook at that convenience store. They'd help me get used to the area.

I made a quick check of the shop exterior to make sure all was secure, and set off for John's Quick Stop. I'd have to be quick if I wanted to get to both the convenience store and the grocery store that I had seen near the apartment.

On my way, I noticed another one of those guys from this morning. The same red tie, black suit, glasses and hat. Jeez, I thought, I understand using uniforms to indoctrinate people into gangs is a common way to help them mentally integrate into the gang and it's culture, but if you're going to be active on the street then you need to be inconspicuous. When you actually intend to commit a crime, it's better to not seem associated with your organization - otherwise your whole group gets flak, and you get blamed for the whole thing.

He eyed me as I walked down the sidewalk. I was better trained than him though - I kept my head straight on my destination, but my eyes wandered to car mirrors, glass, and the like. In their reflection, I saw him pull out a Scroll and make a report on my movements.

Fucking amateurs. I'd have to lead them into an alley or something, somewhere that no one would bother us, and vice versa- but I didn't know the area well.

Luckily, I was coming up on the convenience store- in and out, and I'd start moving according to the map. No time to waste on exploration today.

I got in, grabbed a city map and tourist pocket guide and bought them, quick as a flash. I opened the map as I walked out, making a point to ignore the fact that there were now two of the men from before.

I took some doing, especially on the move, but I managed to zero in on my location on the map, and cross-referenced the area with the pocket guide. According to them, there was an alleyway a few streets down that would be largely deserted this time of night - nothing but diners that were only open for breakfast and lunch in the nearby area.

I memorized the route and packed the stuff away in my backpack. Depending on how things went with these guys, I'd probably have to skip the grocery store.

I pulled my large knife out of my backpack and tucked it sheath-first into the front of my pants. It was annoying, but it was the only way I'd be able to both keep it hidden while also keeping it in an easy to reach place.

I picked up the pace, now followed by three of the men, who had noticed my less-than-subtle use of the map. Three was already a threat, but if they were this organized, they probably at had at least one more waiting in the wings somewhere.

Hopefully I'd make it to the alley before the last one showed up. They were lucky I knew what I was doing. A normal person would have panicked by now, tried to call the cops or otherwise get other civilians involved- but I bet they hadn't considered that.

Fucking amateurs.

Cinder, Emerald, and Mercury observed the proceedings between Jaune and Junior's men from the rooftops, occasionally moving to keep up with the chase - something they hadn't expected.

"I know he said he wanted to become a Huntsman," Cinder said, "but really, he thinks rather quickly for someone who's only been in the city as long as I."

"He's more observant than I would have thought," Mercury said. "The way he was moving earlier, I had thought he hadn't noticed Junior's goon following him. But since he made those split-second decisions to get a map and plan out some route, it's clear that he noticed him immediately."

"Speaking of his route," Emerald noted, "he seems to be leading the men into an alleyway. Oh, there's the fourth one."

"An alleyway?" Cinder muttered. "Why would he bring them there? It's deserted, so there's no chance of him getting any help."

"Unless he's confident he can take them," Mercury reasoned. "Or deal with them in some other fashion. Maybe he's gonna try to pay them off, and doesn't want people to see?"

"Possible, but I doubt it, considering the knife he stuck in his pants."

They followed Jaune and the four thugs into the alleyway, staying out of sight on the rooftops behind Jaune.

Jaune had cornered himself in the alleyway, and the four thugs had arrayed themselves in a line in front of him. Jaune had placed his map and book back into his backpack, and was standing in a low stance. His spine was bent low, but his head was upright, warily looking at the men and observing the situation. His hands were raised up at his shoulder level, and his knees were bent.

An amateur might take his stance as belonging to one who was unsure of themselves and frightened of what to do, but Cinder wasn't fooled, not after his quick tactical response to being followed. His hands were raised to his shoulders- ready to take action and strike or defend as needed. His knees were bent- ready to explode into a quick movement.

Jaune had been trained- and trained well. Cinder was certain.

"Who are you people? Who do you work for?" Jaune had asked the men.

"Ooh, I guess it's go time," Mercury noted.

Emerald snickered. "Well, good luck to him. I hope we won't have to bail him out or anything."

Cinder sneered at her apprentices. "Jaune has surpassed my expectations considerably. If you can't notice that he's about to kill Junior's men, then you two need more training."

Emerald looked to her Mistress. "Wait, kill them? Are you sure? He's been on the run this whole time!"

Cinder shook her head. "He was leading them here, a deserted corner of the city. He's good- anticipating the aftermath of the conflict, not just the conflict itself."

Mercury shrugged. "Jeez, do you have a crush on this kid or what? Sure, he's got a knife and found his way with a map, but two of Junior's guys have guns! I don't think he'll be able to handle-"

BLAM! BLAM-BLAM-BLAM!

I breathed a bit heavily - as fit as I was, it had been a while since I'd been able to properly do some cardio workouts. In juvie, the limited amount of space means that the most cardio you get is by playing team games like basketball. And while I was a damn good Small Forward, it's not the same as going for a run for a few miles.

The men stood in front of me, lined up in a row. The alley I had backed us all into was U-shaped, with the walls of different buildings making up the lines of the U. A large dumpster stood off to my left, and a few smaller trash cans stood near the doors of the buildings.

I glared at them cautiously. I couldn't draw my knife while in the open - that'd make my intentions clear, and it'd devolve the situation into a fight. The last thing I needed going on for me was to be involved with a gang, so I decided to ask a few questions.

"Who are you people? Who do you work for?"

The men looked at each other for a moment before one of them - the first one I had seen - stepped forward and pulled a pistol out. I noted that it was a Thor Model 122 - Atlesian military-grade firepower. Based on the shape of the barrel, it had been customized with an internal suppressor - so they wanted to keep this quiet, I thought. Who else was armed? Stupid question, they were all armed. But who else had guns? At least one more. At the worst, they all did - without any Aura, I'd need to rely on my reflexes and the environment to keep myself safe from bullets. Have to do this fast, before they can react. But who to leave alive?

There, the one in the back right - the fourth and last one to arrive - he's standing straight, but he's not rigid. He's calm, he's done this before a thousand times and never had any trouble before. Good. It'll be all the more shocking for him when he gets hurt.

What's the environment behind them? Wouldn't want to hit a civilian by accident - but it's fine, the alleyway goes on for a few hundred feet, and after going through a body at such close range, the bullets wouldn't go far, not at subsonic speeds. No one around at this time of day anyway. There's a noise on the rooftops - birds? Not important. I can feel the wind shifting, the pressure dropping - there would be rain later, contrary to the weather report. I can taste the filth in the street, particles rising in the air. Senses on overdrive. What's going on? Oh right, father told me about this - a combat focus. Body is warning me that this is only going one way. Preparing for the inevitable. The result of my training and experience. Fight or flight. Going to have to choose - if they don't choose for me.

The one who stepped up jammed the barrel of the gun into my shoulder, forcing me to take a step back with my right foot. He was a common thug, thank my lucky stars - he held the gun loosely, relying on its presence and his stance and stature to maintain control. His voice seemed loud - downside of the combat focus? Everything has its ups and downs. Ignore what my other senses are saying and focus on what's in front of me.

"That's none of your business kid. Sorry to say that there's nothing personal-"

As he was distracted with his words, I shot my hands out - my right hand grabbed the barrel and my left hand pushed against the back of his wrist in the opposite direction. Immediately the gun slipped from his loose grip. I quickly turned the gun over and gripped the handle. I took quick aim and fired one shot into the head of the one in front of me. The gunshot felt louder than it should have been with the suppressor - an effect of the focus as well. But I was used to this sort of noise.

Luckily for me, thanks to the way they had arrayed themselves in their show of force, I was left with a veritable shooting gallery of targets - in fact, they hadn't even reacted yet. I shot the two to my left in the head, and then quickly shot the one standing in the back right in his left shoulder at the joint - he had been reaching for something in his pocket, but I still needed my questions answered.

They seemed to drop in slow motion for a moment before my senses abruptly returned to normal. The one I shot in the shoulder groaned, but didn't scream. He tried to reach for something with his other hand, so I shot his right shoulder joint. I then walked up to him and stomped on his solar plexus, causing him to curl up involuntarily. I then kicked his face and his side, sending him sprawling away from the others.

I walked over to him and stood over him, looking him in the face. He scowled at me, determined not to break under the stress and pain. He was even more experienced than I initially gave him credit for.

I pulled my knife out of my pants and put it back in my bag- I wouldn't need it here. I pointed the gun - my gun, now - and shot him in the leg, through the artery. His reflexes forced him to reach for it, only for the pain in his shoulders to force his hands back down.

I knelt down next to him and started talking.

"That was your femoral artery," I began. "Considering your impressive willpower, you have maybe two to three minutes before you go into shock from blood loss, and maybe five minutes before you die. I'm the only one who can help you. If you want to live, answer my questions. Who are you, who do you work for, and who hired you?"

He spat at me. I shot his other leg, but this time I avoided the artery.

"That wasn't the artery, but having another hole in your body isn't helping your situation. Time's ticking."

He groaned in pain and said nothing. I said nothing in return - I simply pulled out my scroll and stared at the digital clock, tapping the barrel of the gun against his chest with every other second.

After a minute, he finally cracked. "Okay!" he wheezed. "I'm Kayle Cassidy. I work for Hei Xiong, an information broker! Everyone calls him Junior, and he runs a club as a cover, the Just Right! I don't know who wanted you dead, we don't get told that sort of thing! I just got a text that said to look out for you and mug you! That's all I know, I swear!"

I pressed the gun against the hole in his leg, causing him to wince. "You're completely certain?"

He nodded quickly. "Yes! That's everything I know!"

"Good. I'll help you now." I pulled the gun away from his leg and stood up before quickly shooting him in the head.

I rifled through his person and found another Model 122, as well as some extra ammunition. I checked his wallet - he was indeed named Kayle Cassidy - and found some Lien. He didn't have any documents on his person, but he did have a Scroll.

I checked the other three as well. All told, I got an extra 532 Lien, two Thor Model 122s with the suppressor customization, 6 ammo clips, 83 9mm centerfire pistol rounds, four Scrolls, and two machetes. I had to hand it to this Junior - he equipped his men well. If only they were trained as well as they were equipped, they actually might have killed me. I wasn't prepared for this - something I'd have to remedy quick.

I tore the pants of the men and used the cloth to bind up the holes in their bodies, to prevent any further bleeding - or at least keep them from bleeding on me. One by one, I dragged them all to the dumpster and threw them in. I then broke open five of the pistol rounds and sprinkled the Fire Dust onto the pile, and lit it all with a match. Even in such a small amount, that much Dust would burn most of their bodies to ash.

The rest of the evidence would be washed away with the coming rain - not enough to erase the blood's trace chemicals or prevent their discovery through UV light, but enough to wash it off visually and mask my own scent from any police dogs.

I packed up the items I had gained in my backpack and hauled ass out of that alleyway before someone called the fire department to investigate the smoke from the dumpster.

I checked the time on my scroll - I had missed the closing time for the grocery store.

I guess it was Papa Pete's for dinner again. I'd have to start adding runs to my morning regimen…

Cinder, Emerald, and Mercury stared down at what remained of the scene of the conflict. Black smoke rose in the air from the fire, and they had moved to stay out of it. Cinder sneered in mild anger, aware that she would have to pay Junior extra to cover the loss of his men. However, internally she was impressed with Jaune's actions - he didn't seem to be anything special physically, but his tactical knowledge and firearm proficiency were worth investigating, maybe even developing.

Emerald for her part, felt sick at what she had witnessed. She had stolen all her life to survive, but she'd never killed anyone before. She knew that the day would eventually come when she'd have to cross that line, especially if she was to serve her Mistress faithfully, but… That was a while yet. She hoped.

Mercury's mouth hung open in shock for a moment before he caught himself and closed it, hoping neither of the two women had noticed. Jaune's movements were nothing special - Mercury had seen much more impressive gunslinging alongside his father - but there was something cold about Jaune's technique. Something mechanical. There was no hesitation there, no grandstanding or gloating about his skill. Just an action and a result. Cinder was right, Mercury thought. I need more training if I couldn't see that coming.

As Jaune left the scene of the crime, Cinder looked at her apprentices.

"We've seen what we came to see," She said. "Regroup at the Just Right. I'll have Roman meet us on there. Hopefully Junior's file will shed some light on Jaune's history, but if nothing else, Roman will be of help."

Emerald and Mercury nodded before splitting up, Cinder following behind after giving the alleyway one more look.

He took their scrolls, she thought. And he's trained… Hopefully he lacks the technology to break through whatever security measure Junior's placed in his men's scrolls. But if he can break through...

She leapt off the rooftop and into the night.

Far above the city, a black disc floated in the sky. It made no movements or sounds, and simply existed, serenely watching over the scene.

Once the conflict was over and Cinder's group scattered, the disc began to thin, closing in on itself like an eye.

"Interesting," a deep, feminine voice could be heard from the other side before it disappeared.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 1: RESPONDING TO REVIEWS

To ObscureAbsurdity: Thank you! I hope I continue to impress as the story goes forward.

To Alvelvnor: Thank you for reading! I must say, I love the ideas behind writing intrigue and it's easy while we're dealing with small-scale crime and such, but the end goal is global geopolitics so I can only hope my skills improve as the story goes along.

To the Guest: Thank you for reviewing! Although I'll probably use "killing intent" at some points, I do understand why it can be grating on some readers.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: THE GUARDIAN RANKING SYSTEM

You may have noticed Cinder's remark that Junior would be useless in finding information on Guardians past the "Seventh Rank". In this AU, Guardians are ranked in an international system that allows the nations to keep track of freelancers and offer missions to Guardians who meet the skill criteria.

Guardian Rankings

A ranking system based on a Guardian's ability (both intellectually and as a combatant), personality, and work experience. Amongst freelancers, this system is managed by the International Guardian Organization (IGO), a collaborative effort amongst the four nations. Rankings are more or less equivalent with Officer rankings in the Atlesian Army.

"Handymen" are people who graduate from Guardian Academies but refuse to license themselves with the IGO. True Freelancers, they have more leeway in their operational capacity but their reliability is hit-and-miss. Occasionally, these people end up as Assassins simply to make ends meet.

Upon entering a Guardian Academy, students are considered Rank Ten, the lowest rank. Ascension through the ranks while a student is possible by taking on missions, but it does not happen often.

Upon Graduation, fully fledged Guardians are automatically ranked up to Rank Nine if they have not already ranked up while a student. Rank Nine is the highest rank a student may obtain while at an Academy, with the exception of special cases (i.e. if a student had a particularly powerful Semblance, was nationally recognized for their actions during a crisis or achieved success in a particularly difficult mission while a student.)

Students going through an Academy are often colloquially referred to as "Rank 9.75", "Rank 9.5", "Rank ninety-five" etc. depending on what year they are. Typically this denotation comes from fully fledged Guardians as a form of light hearted teasing.

In regards to Handymen and Assassins, rankings are often granted within government records based on their reputation and tales of their prowess and success.

Rankings:

Rank 10: The lowest rank. New students to Guardian Academies. Only allowed to go on basic city patrols or minor Grimm hunting missions alongside teachers or professional Guardian escorts.

Rank 9: Low Rank. Allowed to go on Hunting Missions in teams. Occasionally provides aid to local government. Allowed to carry Hunting-Grade weapons on public transportation on a national scale.

Rank 8: The highest of the Low Ranks. Often participates in Local Government, and provides aid on a city scale. Allowed to go on Grimm Hunting missions of 20 medium targets (Beowolf or Boarbatusk) or smaller in a team. Legally allowed to establish a permanent residence near civilians (Handymen and Assassins lack this right because of their extralegal status, though a few who are well hidden often do so anyway). Teammates required at this rank.

Allowed to carry Hunting-Grade weapons on public transportation on an international scale.

Rank 7: Initiation into the Medium Ranks. Solo missions are now allowed for Hunting missions of 5 medium targets or less. In teams, allowed to hunt small Hordes (30 or less medium targets or smaller). Allowed to hunt individual Large targets as a team. Bachelor's degree in some subject is required.

Rank 6: Medium rank. Solo missions allowed for investigative and intelligence gathering missions. Allowed to solo hunt Medium targets numbering 10 or less. Allowed to hunt up to 2 Large targets as a team.

Rank 5: Minimum rank required to teach at a Guardian Academy. Degrees in the specific field of study are, of course, required. Allowed to hunt Hordes of 50 or smaller Medium targets as a team. Allowed to solo Hunt up to 15 Medium targets.

Rank 4: Often solve problems on a county-wide scale. Often at this stage, Guardians have established a permanent position of some sort. Few Guardians at this rank or higher roam and freelance. People like Qrow, who are highly ranked but often wander, are the exception rather than the rule.

Rank 3: Lowest of the High Ranks. Often deal with problems on a regional scale. Political/leadership skill becomes increasingly more important than combat skill at these ranks. Allowed to hunt Large targets as an individual. Only 17 living Guardians hold this rank. Master's degree in some field is required.

Rank 2: Middle of the High Ranks. Often deal with problems on a national scale. Allowed to hunt Hordes of 50 or less medium targets solo. Only 10 living Guardians hold this rank.

Rank 1: The highest publicly known rank. Often deal with problems on an international scale. Skilled beyond measure and equally intelligent, at least in terms of tactics and strategy if nothing else- though often they have doctoral level knowledge in some related field, or several. Since the end of the Great War and the founding of the Guardian System, only 20 people have achieved this rank. Only 5 living Guardians hold this rank, though there are Handymen and Assassins who are capable enough to qualify as equivalents.

Rank 0: Secret operatives, typically perform counter-terrorist missions or internal investigations as well as investigations of national and international concern. Also have access to secret records. Publicly shown ranking is often listed at 4 or higher, and the individual in question must be at least that rank. This ranking is granted after an individual distinguishes themselves on an international scale. At least 2 out of the four nations must offer support of granting this rank.

Ranks A10-A1: An unofficial rank that is nonetheless used in government records for Assassins. Since Assassins are typically more reknowned for their combat skill than their ability to manage civilian groups, perform crowd control and investigations and the like, these ranks are often used as a determiner of the danger that individual Assassins pose. Of course, even if their main skill denotation is combat ability, rankings are adjusted based on an Assassin's personal skills. For example, Roman Torchwick's combat ability is only comparable to other Assassins in Rank A5, but his skills at information gathering, political strategy, and interpersonal manipulation increase his potential danger to Rank A1.

Rank EX: A special Rank used in Ozpin's secret files to denote people capable of raw Magic. For example, Maidens and (people who have mastered the use of) Silver Eyes.