Arthur's eyes widened in shock as he took in the sight of the dormant Atlas Paladin. The moonlight glinted off its metallic surface, revealing the formidable engineering that Atlas was known for.
His heart raced, it all made sense now, why Atlas was so adamant about recovering the payload. Questions swirled in Arthur's mind – how did White Fang know? Why was Atlas moving weapons of mass destruction into Vale? What the fuck were they gonna do?
This simple albeit nerve racking mission all of sudden became so much larger. Larger than a first year team from Beacon had any right to be involved in.
But what's happened has already happened. Fully knowing that Roy could hear him with his semblance, Arthur whispered his findings. "It's an Atlas Paladin. Fully armed and operational."
Arthur waited for a moment then coughed in embarrassment when he realized he wasn't gonna get a response, super hearing was a one way street.
Regardless we can't let the White Fang have this, there's no telling what they use this for. Certainly nothing good.
Arthur stayed hidden amongst the tents and supplies, no help hiding in the dark would be. Against enemies who could see in the dark it was better to assume they would be able to see him. Moving to just outside a large tent where he could see the silhouettes of White Fang members inside standing around a table. They were talking amongst themselves, discussing something. He strained his ears to catch snippets of conversation, wishing he was Roy, but could only hope the other boy was listening as well.
From the parts he could make out something about dust, reinforcements, and… Torchwick?
That last piece of information was unsettling and with newfound urgency, Arthur retraced his steps back to the rendezvous point where his team was.
He found his team not on the ground where they'd been last, but up in the branches of a tree not too far away. People didn't tend to look up when searching for someone. Upon reuniting with Team RVMT by shimmying his way up , Arthur quickly looked to Roy, hazel eyes met brown, acknowledging that his one-sided communication had been received. There was no need to brief them on what he saw. But Roy had gotten a better understanding of the White Fangs conversation than he himself had.
"White Fang and Torchwick are working together to steal dust shipments. Also the White Fang are expecting reinforcements from outside Vale, possibly Menagerie, but they won't be here for a couple days."
Louie furrowed his brow "White Fang and Torchwick working together? They would never work with a human like Torchwick?". It was a perplexing thought, but how could they understand the minds of hardened criminals. Maybe Louie being a faunus offered insight he didn't have.
Roy nodded "I know it sounds strange, but that's what I heard and what reason would they have to lie when they think they're alone in the middle of the woods." Unless they were paranoid in addition to being terrorists, none.
"Even more of a reason we can't let them have the Paladin," Mars pointed out, using one hand to make a fist in his other's palm. "And we still need to find any captured pilots". Atlas pilots certainly wouldn't be treated favorably by terrorists in fact they might have already been… Arthur grimaced. No, it was too soon to give up hope just yet. The time from crash to rescue hadn't even reached three hours yet.
Louie, flipped his long rusty hair back "So, just a typical day at Beacon, then? Save the world, rescue hostages, and destroy high-tech weaponry. Easy." He leaned back onto the main trunk of the tree, careful not to fall off.
Roy shot him a stern look, one that had him squirming "This isn't a joke, Louie. Lives are at stake." Theirs, and the pilots and to an extent those who the White Fang would be targeting.
"Sorry" Louie admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just... nervous, you know? Tension does weird things to my sense of humor." Like it wasn't weird already?
Roy got the attention of the rest of his team by putting his hand towards the center of their huddle, Arthur mirrored him and the rest of the team followed suit. "Alright I got a plan"
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It had been decided due to Louie's knowledge of dust that he would be the one disabling the paladin. Which was a fancy way of saying blow it up so spectacularly that the White Fang would never be able to think of using it again. While Atlas might be upset that they wouldn't get their expensive toy back, they'd probably be more upset if a terrorist organization took it for a joyride through a populated area.
By using the explosion Roy and Mars would take the opportunity from the chaos to rescue the downed Atlesian Pilots. Who they believed were being held in the biggest tent on the campsite, which happened to be on the complete otherside in reference to the Paladin. It was the only tent that didn't have rotating guards, but instead favored having two stationed outside the entrance at all times.
So as the night wrapped around Arthur and Louie, what little good it did them, Louie's heart hammered in his chest. Not for fear of the White Fang or the paladin, but instead due to the dust concoctions sitting in his own hands. Unholy amalgamations of fire, lightning, ice, and gravity dust thrown in for good measure. Even an accomplished dust mage like Louie couldn't tell what the exact effects would be, only that they would be… volatile.
"Careful with that, Louie," Arthur cautioned, his voice a mere breath. The distant hum of the paladin's systems seemed to blend with the rustle of leaves. Yet they were drowned out by the throbbing inside Louie's ears. It was nerves he knew, but that didn't mean every random click or accidental stumble made him jump in fright.
"You think I don't know that" he hissed. He was the most aware as it was his specialty on the team, dust, Louie had been working with it since he was a child. He'd seen men in Vacuo reduced to the sand they lived in, not properly respecting the destructive power dust held.
Holding the bombs, he shot Arthur a nervous glance. "This stuff makes me uneasy, Arthur. One wrong move, and we're toast, or electrocuted, or frozen… or."
"Something bad" Arthur scowled, he seemed nervous as well, likely the reason for persistently badgering him. Not because he doubted Louie, but rather, he needed to reassure himself that he was doing everything in his power to keep them safe. But then he smirked, his hazel eyes glinting with a subtle hint of mischief. "Well then, let's just make sure we're not the ones who go up in flames," Louie made to correct him but was cut off "- or whatever this will do to them."
The duo approached the Paladin cautiously, their breaths shallow and their movements calculated. Arthur's boots made soft thuds on the ground, blending in with the nocturnal noises of the forest. Louie, smaller and quieter, followed in his wake.
They reached the cockpit, where the massive metallic plates offered them partial cover. Arthur gestured for Louie to start planting the bombs, carefully positioning them onto the control panel. While Arthur himself may have been able to help plant some to speed up the process, he could not see in the dark like Louie could. Neither could I use my semblance; it would give away our position in an instance.
"Now, the tricky part," Arthur whispered, producing a small set of tools. "We need to rig this to blow." He handed them to Louie.
Louie's hands trembled slightly, but his determination outshone his nerves. The process unfolded like an intricate dance, his hands moving with practiced precision. Louie worked meticulously while Arthur kept a vigilant watch.
"Okay, last one," Louie declared, securing the final explosive charge.
The two made a hasty escape. It was a miracle they weren't found out yet. The White Fang could see in the dark and apart from Louie the rest of the team was flying blind. They relied on him and the moon to provide light.
Later the two crouched in the branches of the tree from before looking in the direction of the paladin, Louie's eyes fixed on the cockpit. The air became charged with anticipation, and perhaps they could sense it, the future negativity, but in the distance the howls of Grimm rang true.
Louie looked at Arthur who handed him his pistol and backed off holding his hands to his ears. Louie took aim with his pistol, sucked in a deep breath then pressed his finger to the trigger. Bullet met target and the night sky erupted in a kaleidoscope of colors as his improvised dust explosives ignited in a psychedelic display. Flames danced in hues of crimson, azure, and emerald, painting the once serene forest into a mad artist's masterpiece. The explosion's shockwave rippled through the air, scattering leaves and momentarily drowning out the distant howls of Grimm.
The Atlas Paladin, once formidable, now stood engulfed in the electric freezing inferno. The explosion tore through its metallic frame, sending shards of armor hurtling into the night. The concussive force reverberated through the camp, shaking the very ground beneath.
Arthur and Louie clung to the branches, shielding themselves from the intense heat and debris. The tree swayed side to side but did not collapse in on itself from the sheer force of the explosion.
As the initial blast subsided, the remains of the Paladin stood as a testament to their success. Where the cockpit, once stood, was now replaced by burnt tongues of metal reaching outwards where a person could see straight through to the other side. An arm had been blown off and the legs were shaking. And with the screeching of metal the paladin leaned precariously to one side before toppling onto the ground with an echoing thud.
Part one of the plan: Success.
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As the explosion roared and tore through the White Fang camp, the display of destruction drew the attention of every White Fang within its radius. For Roy and Mars this was the signal and used the diversion to their advantage, their path to the tent was now relatively unguarded. But it wouldn't be for long.
As they approached it, the single remaining guard was preoccupied with the unfolding catastrophe, and momentarily oblivious to his impending threat.
Mars, swift and silent, took the lead. His lithe form moved with a predator's grace, and as they neared the tent, he took cover in the blind spot behind the guard, only the chaos and shouting of such a situation would have allowed someone as big and armored as Mars to sneak behind someone.
A nod from Roy, and Mars sprang into action. Closing the distance in a matter of heartbeats, he struck with precision. A swift, calculated blow to the back of the guard's head left the sentinel crumpled on the ground, unconscious and none the wiser.
To their relief they found them. The Atlesian pilots, confined within the tent, watched in stunned silence as their would-be rescuers stuck a head in from outside. Roy put a finger to his lips gesturing for them to stay quiet.
The entrance to the tent rustled as Roy and Mars entered. The pilots, bound by ropes and gagged, looked up with a mix of hope and fear.
Their once-immaculate Atlas uniforms were now tattered and stained, a stark contrast to the pristine image typically associated with the Atlas military.
The people themselves were bruised, battered, and bloodied. The past couple of hours had not been kind to them, but the huntsmen-in-training had made it in time before the worst could happen.
Among them was a young pale skinned woman with short-cropped bronze hair. Her uniform, though dirtied and torn, still bore the Atlas insignia. The other was a bald burly man, perhaps the senior officer, who sported a beard that showed hints of gray within the black. His eyes, though tired, still held resilience as he returned their gaze.
Roy was quick to approach them and pull Teach from its sheath to cut their restraints, motioning for them to remain quiet as he removed the gags from their mouths.
"We're getting you out of here," Mars whispered, his voice low. "Follow us, and stay close."
With that Mars turned to open the flap of the tent. Which put him face to face with the mask of a White Fang guard. The same one he had knocked out mere moments ago. Drat they were too slow.
"Fuck" swore Mars.
"Fuck" echoed the guard.
Mars and the White Fang guard locked eyes for a brief, awkward moment. The guard's mask betrayed no emotion, but Mars could almost sense the resigned acceptance in the man's gaze.
Without a word, Mars lunged forward, his fist rocketed towards the guard's face. The guard, caught off by the sudden assault, didn't even get to respond as his head snapped back with a sickening crack. He didn't have aura or didn't get it up in time before he fell to his knees with a thud; unconscious and most likely concussed.
Mars shook and blew his hand, giving Roy a helpless grin. "Guess we couldn't keep a low profile forever, huh?"
Roy chuckled, his prosthetic foot tapping rhythmically on the ground seeming louder now. "Stealth was never our strong suit, Mars."
As they prepared to leave the tent, more White Fang guards had noticed the disturbance. The two found themselves surrounded by a group of disgruntled and confused guards, their weapons drawn.
Roy twirled Teach with a showman's flair, while Mars adopted a nonchalant stance, cracking his knuckles. The guards, despite their bravado, hesitated before engaging the duo.
"How about we make a deal? You let us leave without a fuss, and we won't give you guys a headache like your friend here." Roy spread his arm out wide before motioning it to the unconscious guard at their feet.
The guards exchanged uneasy glances. One, seemingly the leader, stepped forward, a scowl beneath his mask. "You won't leave here alive!"
Roy frowned, "Oh well worth a shot". Not even a second later the huntsman in training sprung into action.
The leader recoiled in surprise before snarling. "Take them down!" he barked. With a coordinated effort, the White Fang guards lunged forward, weapons seeking to find purchase.
Roy met the assault on the back foot, his real one, while his prosthetic foot delivered swift kicks that sent guards stumbling. Teach danced in his hands, moving between his left and his right as he moved in a deadly waltz that parried strikes and struck back with precision.
Meanwhile, Mars embraced a more direct method. Attacks from the White Fang guards bounced off his formidable aura like pebbles thrown at a solid wall. His punches and kicks landed with a calculated force that left the guards sprawled on the ground.
As Roy sent a White Fang member sprawling with a flourish of his cutlass, Mars delivered a roundhouse kick that sent two guards colliding into each other and tangling together like bolas.
With enough of an opening in the ranks and the pilots right behind them they dashed through. With good timing as well because Louie and Arthur appeared from the bushes on the outskirts of the camp opening fire on the pursuing White Fang.
When Roy and company reached the forest line they too turned heel and ran. While they didn't have the night vision their pursuers possessed. They had an aura and a smaller group which meant they could move at a speed well beyond their chasers. It wasn't long before they lost them. Nor long for them to reach the pre-ordained extraction point all on schedule.
Whether it was luck or the fact that the negativity at the White Fang camp was drawing them all in. The group didn't encounter any grimm along the way.
In the relative safety of the bullhead cargo bay Roy approached the pilots with a reassuring smile. "You're safe now. We're taking you back to Beacon. Everything will be alright." as he sat down next to them and strapped in. "Do you mind telling us why there was a Paladin en route to Vale?"
One of the pilots, the young woman with bronze hair and tired eyes, hesitated looking towards the other pilot, her senior, before finally speaking. "You have to understand, we were transporting the Paladin under strict orders. These are things... things we can't tell you."
The older pilot chipped in "In part its clearance related, but in our case we can't tell because we just don't know" he voice was gruff. He didn't appear pleased with the situation either.
Roy sighed but dropped the conversation. It wasn't worth the effort. Now the adrenaline was starting to wear off and the time of day was beginning to show its effects. The sun would be up soon by the time they made it back to Beacon and he hadn't got a wink of sleep since two nights ago.
Roy looked across the cargo bay to where the rest of his team was strapping in. It was a relief to lead his first mission and a larger relief they came out relatively unscathed. While they were tired no doubt, they held themselves with some pride, the content of a job done well.
The pilot that Beacon had sent flipped a few switches before grabbing the throttle of the vehicle. The Bullhead's engines roared to life as Roy locked eyes with Louie. A feeling of dread pooled in his stomach as he saw Louie's mouth open.
"Well, that wasn't too ba—" but before he could finish that accursed sentence, Arthur tackled him to the ground.
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That afternoon, the sun cast a warm glow over Team RVMT's dorm room. Despite the mess of blankets, it carried the telltale signs of a night too eventful to be forgotten. Not in the way the boys would have liked however, the air held the faint scent of sweat and grime, due to the fact that none of them had bothered to change or shower after getting back, opting instead for the instant relief of their beds as their bodies crashed from adrenaline.
Mars was the first to stir, he found himself waking up in soreness. His muscles ached in a way only strenuous exertion could cause. He sat up and started to pull off his armor, something he had neglected to do this morning.
"Morning, Mars," Roy yawned, he too seemed to be waking up.
As Mars untangled himself from his blankets, he noticed Arthur and Louie still sound asleep. Roy gestured towards them. "Let 'em rest. We've got the day off from classes, courtesy of Professor Goodwitch's understanding of 'mission recovery."
Mars chuckled, it was a throaty low rumbling laugh. "Never thought I'd see the day where Goodwitch would cut us some slack."
Roy grinned, stretching his arms above his head. "Must be a once-in-a-lifetime event. Cherish it while it lasts."
As they shared another laugh, Louie, still half-asleep mumbled something unintelligible.
Arthur stirred, slowly opening his eyes. "Or maybe she just didn't want us dozing off in her class and causing a scene." he mumbled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Anyone seen my comb?"
Roy raised an eyebrow. "You actually use a comb?"
"Of course, I have standards," Arthur retorted, only half-serious. Eyeing that rats nest atop Roy's head.
The room stilled for a second, quiet enough to hair a pin drop. Before the three finally broke laughing and wheezing.
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Adam Taurus surveyed the remnants of the White Fang camp with a smoldering rage burning in him. The Atlas Paladin, now a twisted wreck, was little more than scrap metal, and like the mech itself the plans it had been required for went up in flames.
As he walked through the camp, his jacket billowed in the wind, he clenched his fists. His Faunus comrades avoided his gaze, sensing the storm within him.
With a brooding resolve, Adam acknowledged the inevitable. Cinder Fall would need to hear about this. The twisted alliance with her, a woman whose motives he found elusive and unsettling meant he had no illusions about the woman, her intentions hidden beneath layers of deceit. The alliance was a means to an end, bound by circumstances rather than trust and when that ended he would deal with her himself.
"Be prepared for consequences," he gritted to himself, he'd find who did this and deal with them accordingly... violently.
Apologies for the long time between chapters, I have been quite ill and couldn't find the energy to write.