Beacon. The Misfits' Abode
Sam was pruning through a bit more intel in regards to the issues they were facing in Vale. Aside from the Criminal Underworld, obviously, there was the matter of the White Fang, a former Faunus Rights organization turned terrorist. She was pretty sure Vic and the others already knew about the issues at hand, so she was not gonna go ask him about it.
Instead, she looked past the screen of her laptop at the pairs of twins interacting, Vicky and Paula sitting and watching TV together while Vic and Paul exchanged small-talk over a cup of coffee. Despite the many more empty seats in the house, she finally felt like they were building themselves back up again. Even with the horrors of the fact that they had all somehow perished in the back of her mind, Samantha smiled.
She heard the quiet plonk of a mug of coffee being placed next to her, then looked up to see a smiling Saila. Sam replied with, "Thank you, Sai," before grabbing the mug of black coffee and taking a sip. To nobody's surprise, it was bitter and hit like a brick, but it was good to keep her awake for any future jobs. Both girls watched the twin pairs talking, with Sammy smiling again as she said, "We're just missing a few people... Maybe in the next couple months...?"
Saila nodded, then gently tugged at Sammy's shirt sleeve. For all intents and purposes, it was still fairly creepy when Sammy heard the almost ethereal, Finnish-accented voice through the touch, with Saila asking her, "Anything new on the laptop?" while pointing at it.
Sam shrugged, "Just looking up details on the White Fang and other rumors. Dust Store robberies and that sort of crap," and looked back at the laptop. Saila poked her head in next to Sammy's, watching the girl search through various news articles and some data she'd requested. A small chatroom box sat off to the side, monitoring a room that was seemingly there for more 'extreme' White Fang supporters to chat.
Huh, Saila thought to herself, Guess Social Media doesn't change. Extremist morons are truly everywhere, all while reading some of the messages scrolling through. She looked at Sammy again, confused as to why she wasn't saying anything, to which Sam shrugged and took some notes about attacks, their patterns and how the local Whiskey Foxtrot supporters were talking about the attacks.
Various websites of the CCTS in multiple windows and tabs. Saila chuckled at the sight while Sam continued writing her notes, taking sips from her coffee every so often. The redhead rifle-girl walked to the pairs of twins, listening as Paul spoke with a smirk and joy in his voice, "And then Vic over here apparently helped some local Australian Faunus girl be rid of her bullies."
Paual giggled, then asked, "Did you outright put a gun up to his mouth or something?"
"No," Vic rolled his eyes, "We're security here. Not gonna traumatize someone, even if they're being little shits," and he heard Vicky giggle. He chuckled and said, "Yeah, yeah, I know. I heard Coco joke about the 'Damsel in Distress' crap with poor Velvet. And hey, Velvet's a nice, calm girl with a penchant for photos. The hell was I gonna do, let those four dickheads screw with her?"
"Always with the heart of gold, bro," Vicky chuckled, giving him a gentle bump on the shoulder with her fist. She then told Paul, "Ain't no point in hiding it, eh?"
"Nope," Paul shrugged, "I might've actually twisted the kid's arm a little harder than you did, though..." and a little moment of darkness snuck through the Hungarian man's otherwise clear eyes. Vicky and Vic both smirked at that.
Saila smiled at that, with all four members of the discussion suddenly turning to see her. Paul quipped, "Still as stealthy as ever, Sai," before offering her some pretzels from the bag he was eating out of. She nodded in thanks and plucked up one of the pretzels. Paul leaned back against the island counter while Paual turned back to cooking. He said, "I still can't believe we just found her randomly meandering about in another village."
"I have a nagging feeling we're gonna find a lot more people 'just meandering about'," Paula spoke. Saila walked over to help her cook, giving her a gentle elbow nudge to tell her that, to which she smiled and handed her a pot to fill with ingredients. The two women immediately got to work, while Vic, Vicky and Paul watched. The Hungarian girl said to them, "You guys have bets on the weird kind of stuff we're gonna find here yet?"
"Nope," Both of them replied as Dushman walked into the house, looking ragged. Vic swiveled about and saw the man with a small bruise under his chin that his newly-unlocked Aura was now healing, before asking him, "Who the fuck did that, man?" which caused everyone to turn and look at the man with the black spot on his cheek. The Marine waved it off, unclipping the belts of his armor and backpack.
"Dickhead named Winchester," Dushman replied as he dropped his gear off, "Apparently, he's plenty pissed at you for interrupting his fun, Vic. Jumped me and Sergeant Colbert while we were out on patrol..." before he grinned, "We kicked his ass though. Sent him and his four-man team scrambling by the time the other lads arrived to help us mob them."
Sammy breathed a deep sigh, then pulled up her tablet and said, "That's another report for Ozpin to read through..." before starting to write it out. Dushman grinned, then sniffed the air and looked over at the two girls working in the kitchen. Sam smiled, even as she wrote the report with some exasperation, telling Dushman that, "Yes, we're about to eat Sai and Paula's cooking. The only extra would've been Ves..." only to pause and cover her mouth.
She looked up at Vic, who smiled a little melancholically, then nodded. Clearly, he still held onto some degree of hope even after all the months they'd spent here, but the pain behind his eyes was undeniable. It made Sam's heart sink when she saw it, so, to quickly clear the air(and to ignore the stare from Vic's sister), she cleared her throat and told them, "Seems as though the Fang's quite active today..."
A moment later, her Scroll pinged. She looked at it and read the message, then told everyone, "In good news, Jim, Hass and Diana have started training the locals. Confirmed to be VDV and descendants that intermarried here. Cold War, namely 1980s Soviet-Afghan War..." which got them to gather around. She showed pictures of the youngest of the lot, seventeen-year-olds, being trained in how to handle combat situations by the Romanians and Americans. They were carrying fairly customized AK-74Ms and AK-100s. She blinked, leaned forward and read the next message, adding, "Huh, holy shit. They even found the Ruski peacekeepers from Syria whose TIGR we ran into."
Vic motioned with his hand at the pictures and said, "Explains the camouflage..." before scratching his chin and asking, "Man, does the Headmaster know about all this? Like, independent villages full of military men? Other revived folk?"
Sammy shrugged, then stated, "I'll go ask him," as she stood up, closing her laptop and grabbing part of her gear. Her pistol and rifle, namely. She waved to the others, letting them enjoy their meal together while she went to deal with the usual organizational stuff for the newfound PMC. It was a normal event, seeing as she'd also done some menial work for her and her sister's mixed Brigade of Marines and Army.
She watched the next wave of patrols, namely pairs of Romanian infantry and US Marines, rolling out together, chatting each-other up. Sergeant Colbert walked toward her, also only carrying what seemed to be an M45 MEUSOC(The younger 1911) instead of the standard M1. He spoke to her, "Lieutenant Lee," and gave her a light nod as they walked.
"Sergeant Colbert," The woman smiled, "Joining me for a morning walk?"
"If you're going to see Ozpin about all the people being alive here, ma'am, yes," The soldier replied, scratching his sharp jawline. He told her, "You know, the Old Faith wasn't usually up for debate. Never imagined the Hindus would be right about reincarnation, though..."
"Hey, if we became ourselves again," Sammy shrugged, chuckling awkwardly, "That means we must've done an equal amount of bad and good, huh?"
"Is that how it works? That whole Karma and Dharma thing?" Colbert snorted, "Funny. I never read up on it," and he heard the young Chinese woman giggle. He told her, "Y'know, Dushman always called you stuck-up, ma'am."
"I busted his balls quite often about messing with the local farmer population," She replied, pulling at her collar a little and undoing a button. She took her hat off as she felt sweat pooling around her forehead and hair and stuffed it into the pocket of her jacket, then wiped the sweat and said, "Christ, the Sun's really beating down on us today, isn't it...?"
Indeed, the Sun of Remnant beat down today with particular ferocity, despite it being well into the Fall. Now, it wasn't a problem because it was poking at her eyes, or Colbert's, but rather because of the heat it seemed to be emanating despite the time frame of the weather. She sighed and mumbled, "Must be the god-damned Moon causing some issues with Climate Change..."
"Yeah, the moon still fucks me up whenever I see it at night," Colbert admitted, "Wouldn't be surprised if it messed up the ecosystem somewhat."
"You'd be surprised," The Chinese woman replied. She told him, "I read up on some of the stuff in Vacuo. Other half of the continent we're on is a complete sandblasted desert that'd make the Sahara seem tame. And that's on all axes and lines North and South of the equator of this planet," while wiping more sweat off her brow. "It's basically Australia, but a mountain pass away."
"Fuck that," The Marine replied, arms crossed, "Wading into an icy hell was enough for me. I don't wanna feel the polar opposite," and he sighed as they finally approached the base of the Beacon Tower, the glistening emerald gemstone atop the crown that was this small city-sized school. They'd passed by dozens of students, many of which still seemed uneasy about the present troops.
As they entered the Tower, Sam asked, "So, I heard you and Dushman had a roughhousing event with one of the local kids."
"Four of them. Team Cardinal," Colbert nodded, "Had to stop Quentin from skewering one of the kids with his bayonet after we busted their Aura..." only for Sam to snort. Of course, the man would downplay the severity of their bullshit to save his own hide. He smiled a little, hearing the laughter, then told her, "Thing is, ma'am, Quentin only got more bloodthirsty in and after Russia."
"I know," She nodded, "We've all changed because of it. Because of the Ukraine War and everything... Hell, I'm the least affected and I got skewered by a HEAT round."
"Haven't witnessed much from any of you that I'd consider as bad as Dush nearly skewering a 17-year-old with a bayonet," Colbert quipped, then told her, "I already ordered him to go through some shrink work. Military shrink, though, if that's alright with you. He wanted me to ask you personally because... Well, you know Quentin. He's not particularly good at expressing his feelings."
She nodded, "Anything to keep my friends from drilling holes in their skull caps, Sarge..." and started recalling a few of the other issues the man had caused in KFOR. IT was funny, honestly. They entered the elevator and took it up without speaking another word for now. When they reached the top, both greeted the Headmaster and Miss Goodwitch with quick salutes.
The two teachers nodded back, with the blond-haired matron with emerald eyes noting, "Odd to see you come up this early in the day, Lieutenant. Sergeant."
"We want to have a talk with the Headmaster, miss Goodwitch," Sammy replied. She looked over to Colbert, who nodded, then added, "It's fairly important," to which the good woman excused herself. Ozpin motioned to the seats which the two officers took, before pouring both of them some hot chocolate from its usual container. Nodding in thanks quickly, Sam next asked, "... Sir, do you happen to know about revival?"
The man seemed to stagger for a moment, though the movement was so imperceptible, Sam barely picked it up. He looked right at her, however, right into her emerald eyes. She could swear she saw a faint glow in his auburn ones as he offered, "Nothing particularly groundbreaking beyond the theory," then took a sip from the unusual concoction he replaced his coffee with from time to time. He asked, "Why?"
"We've had two separate events of encountering living people that would otherwise have died in our world, Headmaster," Sam spoke, watching the wigged-out man relax a little the next moment. She furrowed her brows, then continued, "A village full of old soldiers over yonder in Vale's mountains and Pavel, the former logistics truck driver. All of them are Soviet, obviously, but..."
"Ah," He almost sounded like he'd breathed a sigh of relief. He still remained cautious, however, stating, "That is strange, indeed, though I do suppose it can be explained by the same thing that brought you here," while opening his scroll and looking through information pertaining to possible other sightings of villages like this.
"Perhaps, but that is still concerning. Obviously, I, my friends and the others were revived in random places, but it seems to have some sort of order of time, if nothing else... We're recent deaths. The Soviet troops we met are from a few decades ago and the Russians with them, from six years ago. It's worrying, but predictable, at least,"-Sam, concerned.
"Rather obviously..." The man replied with a mumble, then sighed and asked her with little change in tone or show of fear, his face remaining perfectly friendly, if a little impassive, "Do you wish for me to put out an order to find more similar villages to Huntsmen and Huntresses we have under our employ? All four Academies talk to each-other, so..."
"We'd appreciate it," Sam nodded, though she also noticed the fact the man was trying to play down his physical reaction to the news of these revivals. She thought that he had a good poker face, at least, while telling him, "A good few of our friends are still missing," with an awkward smile on her face. Colbert sat there, calmly listening to the discussion, meanwhile.
"Then I will keep you updated, Lieutenant. Anything else you're looking to speak of?" The Headmaster asked, visibly more relaxed. He was really good at masking his feelings, or he was really good at calming himself down after some sort of scare. Sam was wigged out now, but she also did pretty good in not showing it. Two people with a good poker face, thought Sergeant Colbert. Good to know.
"Yeah," Sam nodded, then activated her Scroll and sent some details and screenshots to Ozpin. She requested, "Tell our de facto boss we need a new target. Preferably White Fang this time. I want to get some intelligence from one of their bases," before sighing and drinking the rest of her now-lukewarm hot chocolate. Colbert had finished his a few minutes prior.
"Very well," Oz nodded, then smiled and shrugged, "If that's all...?"
"Of course. Thanks for listening, Headmaster," Sam replied, then stood up alongside Colbert and gave a quick bow, "We'll be out of your hairs," only to lead the way out and to the Elevator. When they boarded and Sam hit the button, the woman finally breathed a sigh, the tension that had so far weighed down on her shoulders suddenly vanishing, only to be replaced by more questions.
Colbert hummed, then asked her, "... He seemed a bit off when you mentioned revival. You think he's hiding something?" in a whisper, just in case there were microphones within the Elevator. Sam, meanwhile, appreciated another quick-witted Marine that had a noggin to think with. A good NCO was really needed to keep the psychos of the US Marine Corps in check, though, so...
She simply nodded, telling him, "I'd stake a good bet on it, yes. Let's get back to the others, wait for a job..." as the elevator dinged. The two walked back out onto the paths of Beacon, past falling leaves of various shades of gold and orange. From up above, however, Ozpin stared at both of them amidst the crowds of students. He took a sip from his chocolate, then sighed.
Yet more people with brains... Good.
The Village of Novyy Smolensk
The shooting range of the Village of Novyy Smolensk, as it was called by Anya and the others around, rang with the cracks of Kalashnikovs loaded with 7,62 by 39mm rounds. Paper silhouette targets pinned to hay bale stacks that themselves were pressed up and stabilized against reinforced concrete walls were drilled with each single-shot from the rifles, which the recruits, both Faunus and Human, had set to semi.
Hass spoke, "Regardless of the upgrades you'll be receiving courtesy of scope schematics and pic rails, you'll need to know how to use those iron-sights. If your scope or red dot breaks or is shot off, that's your only lifeline between survival and a death sentence," while emphasizing the point with his own, currently scopeless XM7 rifle. His scope lay in his pocket, in a specialized container to ensure no damage would come to it. Instead, he had attachable flip-up irons on the weapon.
He watched a pair of the seventeen-year-olds with bad stances missing easy shots and groupings and approached them. He took his stance next to them to make a point. Left foot forward, right foot back and perpendicular to the left's axis, rifle shouldered properly and eyes down the sights for a clean picture. He looked at them impassively, waiting for them to replicate it. They did after about a minute's confusion, to which the Half-Asian Michigander gave a nod, lowering his weapon. It was still on safe. He'd just checked.
He paused as he felt a slight mound of dirt under his boot, a thousand thoughts suddenly coursing through his mind, faces, familiar people. He staggered, took a step back and looked down at the mound itself. Sighing, he gave it a gentle kick and walked back to his part of the line, watching as the youngsters he'd just helped finally started shooting straight. He said, "Keep at it..." his voice a little lower.
Diana and Jim watched from afar, helping Quartermasters load fresh 7,62mm magazines for the Rookies and Trainees. Jim himself sighed deeply, then shook his head, loading his rifle. Diana, meanwhile, looked to Jim and asked, "IEDs?" which caused the young man to almost double over and drop his mag and ammo. She smiled a little sadly and said, "Yeah, I knew it..."
"... How...?" Jim raised a brow, slowly starting to load ammo again...
"Victor and Victoria were the same after Afghan," She replied as she set aside a fully loaded magazine, which was immediately retrieved and put in a box with the others. She saw the confusion on his face and said, "What, they never told you guys about their first deployment? Six months in the sandbox with us and a good chunk of 2nd Division's active Battalions... Lost the first friend they made to an IED, just as her squad's patrol Humvee was pulling out of the FOB's side street. Bastards planted it under a drainage ditch bridge."
"Jesus," Jim breathed, then sighed and said, "No, they never mentioned their time in the Sandbox. Where'd you guys work?"
"Helmand. I think we actually backed up a Ranger op in the Area at some point," Diana shrugged, then saw a glint of recognition in the guy's eyes and smiled. She started loading up a couple of 10 round magazines with the larger Russian 7,62. By 54 Rimmed, to be specific. She handed the mags to one of the sharpshooters, who was going to the longer part of the range with her buddies, then she told Jim calmly, "Though that was before the Pull-back. We've only been in KFOR and home since."
"Ah," Jim nodded, "Missed the Withdrawal."
"That when it happened...?" She asked, loading the last sniper mag and handing it to the last designated marksman. She then started loading PKM belts as Jim nodded, helping her with the links. Softly, the girl said, "Got it... Hell of a day, that was. I remember watching the news of the unfolding catastrophe while we were back at Base near Bucharest..."
"Yeah... It wasn't pretty," Jim sighed deeply, looking back at Hassan as the boy looked at the mound of dirt still, trying to stomp it down out of sight while the recruits were shooting. Farther away, medics were called when a recruit fell from one of the obstacles on the course. He told her, "Look, Hass will... Hopefully get over it with time. Who knows, maybe our homeboy will join us here, too-"
"INCOMING!" Called one of the sentries on the wall, while Ștefan prepared his weapon with a smirk. The Sergeant and Jimbo exchanged a quick glance, then ran up the wall. Hass did, too, ordering a ceasefire and safeties on for the Kalashes before joining the trio of his fellow Misfit PMC members up top. The dirt road ahead was open, no vehicle travelling toward them.
No vehicle.
There was, however, a platoon's worth of infantry marching toward them, most of them French infantry, from the looks. Their rifles, HK416s and FAMASes, plus added-upon support weapons, scanned the area ahead. Hassan pulled his scope out and slid it onto the rifle, attaching it quickly and peering through at the sight of the squad, then said, "Looks like Paul's FFL comrades and-" he choked.
The other two looked at him, then both looked through their respective optics. A trio of American soldiers and a Bulgarian marched in the middle of the staggered column. All of them were recognizable to the boys, with Hass lowering his rifle shakily as he leaned forward. He raised his hand and called out, "ALEKSANDR!" which caused the leading American, a Ranger Sergeant, to pause. He peered through his scope... Then a loud, happy laugh echoed.
"Hassan!" The man yelled back, smiling happily, "It's been a while, brother...! Four bloody years too long!"
Diana looked at Hassan, then at a smiling Jim and at the other soldiers advancing. The French troops relaxed and tightened their formation, weapons lowered as they greeted with waves of the hand. A female French soldier pulled her helmet and mask off, revealing a woman of possibly Morroccan descent, but with a kind of beauty that made even Princesses of old tales jealous.
The Bulgarian and other Americans, meanwhile, shared a couple of looks, but still looked ahead happily... Save one.
Robert, the squad's Military Policeman, mumbled, "Good to fucking know we're not alone..."