Author's Notes:

Finally, a chapter I posted on time.

"Text"

"Speech"

Disclaimer: I do not own Fallout, RWBY, or any associated characters

Remnants of a Courier

Arc 4: Chaos Theory

Chapter 62: Jolly Cooperation

"This is a bad idea," The Mimic commented as he stood behind the curtain. John could hear them from his position in front of it.

The curtain shifted. "It might be," Adam said to reassure his partner. "But it's the only way they'll respect you."

"Didn't we already go through this with Roman and the Paladins?" The Mimic questioned, his tone being one of disbelief. "This feels more like antagonizing than trying to get on their good side."

"They won't like it at first but once everything is said and done, it will work." Adam didn't sound as confident as John would like.

After all, it was his ass on the line here. A few squads of Voidwalkers and White Fang had assembled before the stage he was now standing on. It was easy to spot the hateful glances being traded between the two groups. After all, they had been enemies until recently. Made worse by the White Fang representative–a Lieutenant–who wasn't backing him up either. The tall chainsaw-wielding Faunus simply nodded his head, allowing the unfortunate Major to take over.

The warehouse they were in was on the northwestern side of the city at the edge. It was just inside the walls so while protected it was still remote enough for this meeting. The warehouse itself was empty save for the small makeshift stage and projector setup.

From what John understood, the warehouse once used to store large quantities of fish, and it definitely smelled the part. Now it was abandoned along with many of the buildings along the edge of the capital.

The projector he set up was being shined on a board on the stage and showed the general plan for Operation Crumble.

Operation Crumble was a simple affair really. The Dogs of War had a base nearby and they planned on hitting it, gathering as much evidence as possible, and interrogating any survivors. Of course, it was up to him to explain the strategy to his men.

"I know we've had our differences," the Major began as he addressed the men, women, and Faunus in front of him. "But we set that aside today. A common enemy has targeted both the White Fang and the Voidwalkers. And upper management from both have deemed it advantageous for us to work together."

John Variance had never been a man to lead before. A sergeant for the Vacuo Armed Forces at the ass-end of the Faunus Rights Revolution. He had been fortunate enough to not participate in fighting the Faunus as Vacuo had been the Kingdom least active in the conflict.

Then he moved after the war, wanting to get away from that life as he realized it meant someone else could order him to do something he was against. Moving to the middle of nowhere had been freeing and quiet.

That was until Joshua or the Mimic arrived. That man had changed everything. The onslaught of Grimm attacks, the unwanted attention from outsiders, the questions outsiders were now asking, and more. All due to the actions of a single outsider that brought them trouble. The already wary town became isolationists, ignoring all outsiders or trying to drive them out, albeit non-violently. Rhyt's captain, Lirah, had tried keeping it together, stating they wouldn't last another year without outside help. But the town had made its choice.

And when John tried to argue against them, it was leave or be ostracized like the Spring family. A life like that simply wasn't worth it. He still wasn't sure why Richter stayed in the town or what he was running from. But for his daughter, the old man should leave the town, in John's opinion.

Then he had been invited to a life he thought he had given up…

"The Dogs of War have made the White Fang out to be villains, framing them for actions they have not taken." He turned to the rest of his men, "And they have actively targeted us for months now."

"A common enemy has brought us together," he continued before pointing at the map currently being projected. "And it's finally time we hit them back."

Before he joined the Voidwalkers, they had needed a new soldier. Someone with experience who could be trusted, and for some reason, they thought he was the one for the job. But John was a man with no connections and little experience in leading men into battle. It had confused him on why they wanted him.

With the pay the job offered, it proved too tempting for a vagabond with no Lien to his name that was out of house and home. It was an offer he couldn't resist.

That was until they started their training and ran into the Mimic. It was highly unorthodox, training to fight not with the tactics that were commonly accepted by the Kingdoms, but the ones that were developed during the Faunus Rights Revolution.

Insurgent Warfare was still relatively new and the Kingdoms refused to employ it on a larger scale since the FRR, stating that it would result in loss of human and Faunus life and prolonged conflicts. Now, regardless of whether John agreed with them, the true benefactor of the Voidwalkers didn't.

They trained with skills that weren't as bombastic as Huntsman or outright powerful but were much harder to counter in a prolonged conflict. They weren't just trained to win battles, but to win wars and survive. A strange occurrence for a company that should specialize in small-scale conflicts.

Gone were the days of massive battles led by Huntsmen and Huntresses. Large battalions spearheaded by those with Aura in climactic clashes. Victory usually being decided by who had the most fighters with Aura.

Instead, the FRR utilized hit-and-run tactics, small mobile squads, and traps that were often considered inhumane. And now the Voidwalkers did too.

John figured that was why they wanted more open-minded and newer soldiers. They needed to incorporate tactics that went against standard military doctrine.

Then the Mimic arrived, using many of the tactics they were training in. Many among them had put the pieces together that the Mimic was somehow involved with their organization. Either he was being hired by Jeremy–their incompetent idiot figurehead–or something more nefarious was happening.

Which is what led to tonight.

"We'll split the squads and surround these eight points of the building." The Major explained, pointing to the two-story concrete building that was surrounded by trees being displayed. Around it were eight circled red points. "Once within two miles, we split into smaller groups. It's roughly half a mile off the coast so two squads will approach from that direction, the rest will encroach from the forest."

The projector changed slides, showing the points turning into red arrows. "Once we give the signal, all operators will move in at once and secure the entrances. We'll use standard clearing tactics and Light-Dust grenades to clear the initial rooms. From there it will be close quarters so remember to check your corners."

"Remember," John's tone turned sharp as he leaned towards the assembled crowd. "We have to be fast as they will attempt to scrub any information. We can't let that happen."

He relaxed his shoulders before continuing, "Once we've gathered the data, and restrained anyone who surrenders, we plant explosives along key structural points and evacuate. Once at a safe distance, we detonate the explosives."

One of the soldiers raised his hand, a White Fang member with darker skin.

Nodding towards the soldier, the lad asked, "Do we have support for this?"

"We do." John paused as he braced himself for the next part. "We will have Adam Taurus serving as the vanguard on this operation."

As he spoke, the man emerged from the curtain. This felt a little too childish and over the top to him but the bosses wanted it this way.

The Mad Bull wore an all-black outfit with red accents accompanied by his customized White Fang mask. Honestly, the guy made John more worried than relieved. A thought mimicked by the other Voidwalkers who tensed at seeing him. But like the true professionals they were, they kept their cool and didn't complain.

The White Fang had the opposite reaction, perking up and straightening their postures. Looking at the Faunus as some sort of idol to look up to. It made John want to scoff at the hero worship. Even the Lieutenant seemed to hold himself straighter.

"He will enter first, drawing the majority of their attention before the rest of us breach." The Major instructed as he readied himself for the next part of the briefing.

"And…" John began, building his courage up despite his sweaty palms. "The Mimic will be serving as overwatch."

And out stepped the Boogeyman of Vale himself. Clad in black armor with white bone coverings on his mask and arms. Spikes protruding from said coverings and red eyes staring the crowd down. The inhuman appearance of that mask looked enraged at all times, its glare malevolent.

This time the reaction was unanimous, everyone tensed and stared. Unsure of how to initially react. But slowly, his soldiers relaxed, and following their example shortly after, the White Fang soldiers did as well. If only because of Adam's glare.

John was finally assisted by the other officer in the room as the large Lieutenant backed him up. "I understand some of you may be cautious about this. But I can attest that this will go smoothly. These humans may be mercenaries we've fought in the past, but they are warriors first and hired guns second."

"If any of you wish to not participate in this mission due to this development, let us know now," Adam was the one who spoke this time, glaring at the crowd as he did. Though the Major was starting to realize that perhaps he wasn't doing it on purpose. Adam had the issue of "resting bitch face" like many of John's commanding officers in the past.

Only a few raised their hands before being allowed to leave. The notable leader of these defectors being a dark-skinned Faunus. None of the Voidwalkers left which wasn't surprising. The Mimic had not only been helping them but it was obvious he was somehow involved with their organization. So while this probably came as a shock, it wasn't that surprising.

The White Fang also had a decent reaction which went against the Major's expectations. While both Adam and the Mimic had assured him the briefing would proceed as planned, part of him just couldn't believe it. Why would a bunch of human-hating Faunus ever work with them? Well, Adam and Six didn't give all the details but it apparently had something to do with Adam's presence and that horrid train Breach. John wasn't sure what the Mimic did for the White Fang during that event but it was working wonders now.

What was more interesting was the Mimic's identity as his employer. The Mimic–who turned out to be their boss–had spoken to him one-on-one and revealed that little bit of information yesterday to him. All with the sole purpose of getting this operation going, likely to introduce the Voidwalkers to their boss.

It was why the projector also had a streaming device attached to it. The recording was currently being broadcast to their bases across Vale and the rest of the Voidwalkers who had been called in for this meeting.

Though if John had to guess, that Overseer asshole Alfin probably already knew. The man was in charge of monitoring every soldier for suspicious activity. That slimy bastard rubbed him the wrong way, always felt like he was watching and keeping secrets.

"Good, then with that out of the way," Adam began as he stepped back for the Mimic to take his spot.

The Terror of Vale approached, staring out over the crowd for a few moments with a calm demeanor as he crossed his arms behind his back.

"I am a villain to many of you," he began, stepping to the side as he began pacing in front of the crowd. "But know that while you may have legitimate grievances with me, we face a common enemy."

"These Dogs of War are a portent of what is to come. Atlas, the Council, and other nefarious groups have set a series of events in motion that will collapse Vale in its entirety if we do not prevent it."

Many of the onlookers blinked, obviously confused.

"Merely look outside to see the Atlas fleet stationed overhead. These Dogs of War work behind the scenes to sabotage us. And the Vale Council, they are the ones who hired these dogs to kill us. To turn us on each other."

The new image onscreen was that of various financial transactions between known DoW affiliates and one of the Councilors whose name was conveniently scrubbed out of the image.

"They seek to take total control while other groups seek to kill us all." As he spoke, the Mimic pointed his hand toward the crowd. "But not if we can work together and stop it."

Then his pacing stopped, and he turned to the crowd, gauging their reactions. There was a mixture of confusion and anger amongst the crowd. Still, the man continued, declaring for all Voidwalkers and White Fang present.

"I own Voidwalker LLC, or just Voidwalker if you prefer. It is my company. And I created it with the express purpose of protecting Vale from a disaster we believe is coming. One that the Council and Atlas may not be able to stop."

The effect was immediate as it had been John's same reaction. The White Fang blinked and almost began yelling in protest before Adam shot them a cold look. Even the mercenaries shifted in place, unsure of how to take the news. Many of them did not sign up for something like this.

"Our enemies are many and are already moving," Adam continued for Six. "They have us outnumbered but we have discretion. They don't know that we work together."

"What is this threat exactly?" One of the White Fang soldiers shouted.

Six glanced at Adam who seemed to mull the question over. His mask made it hard to read the Faunus but after a moment of silence replied, "We believe a group of deranged, awful, and evil people intend to create a Breach. We also believe elements of Vale's governing body are seeking to profit from this tragedy."

Many in the crowd gasped. A Breach hadn't been seen in over a decade. A massive hole in the capital's defenses would allow Grimm to pour in endlessly. It was one of the worst things that could happen to the city. A big enough one could put entire sectors of the city at risk of being wiped out. Tens of thousands of people could die.

"We don't know all the details, but trust that we're working to try and prevent or at least prepare for this event." Turning to Six, Adam tried to assuage his men's reluctance with the Mimic. "It is why we must work with even enemies."

Adam turned to the Mimic as he continued, "And for those of you who are still against my word, know that he too is a Faunus."

Another chorus of protests erupted.

Honestly, while a surprise, John could care less about if their boss was a Faunus. He assumed the rest of the Voidwalkers likely felt the same way. They were handpicked to be professionals and the best of the best. Racism only held them back.

"He can't be, no Faunus would do that!" One of the Faunus shouted and had to be physically held back. It was that same darker-skinned Faunus from earlier who apparently hadn't been fully kicked out yet. John did his best to remember the lad's name. Dav? Dav-something?

Turning his attention back, the Major spotted the Mimic staring holes into the back of Adam's head. Had that information not been part of the plan?

"But it's the truth," Adam continued as he stepped towards the edge of the stage. He flared his Aura, quieting the crowd as a red hue shined across Adam's body for a moment. Huntsmen could create pressure with their mere presence, very real physical pressure. All they had to do was flex their Aura.

"I have seen him myself. And I understand your personal grievances with him. But understand this, my main priority is not to sate your vengeance, but to protect the Faunus people!"

"The threat is real!" Adam shouted, gazing down at his troops. "We have to be ready or we will lose every Faunus in Vale! That is why we are intervening during the Festival. You are going to intervene! You will save lives! And when all is said and done, the White Fang will be heroes to the people of Vale while we clean up its trash!"

He stopped, turning back to the board and pointing at it. "But before we can help anyone, we have to stop these Dogs of War, enemies to the Faunus, from hurting more of us! Now…"

He trailed off as he turned back to the crowd. "Are you going to help my people, your people, and put these monsters down? Or will I do it alone?!"

There was silence for a moment as the crowd processed his words. But eventually, there was a nod, then a shout, and finally a chorus of agreements with Adam.

"No one will ever hurt us again!" One shouted from below.

"We'll protect our families even if we have to die!" Another agreed.

Adam smirked, knowing that his speech had been a success. It honestly was disturbing for John to see. He had just rallied the White Fang like a cult.

"Then I will lead you, no enemy of the Faunus will prosper against us!" Adam finished and another chorus rang out from the White Fang crowd.

Turning to his superior, the Major glanced at the Mimic who was shaking his head. Apparently theatrics weren't really his thing either.

The Terror of Vale stepped forward, taking center stage as the crowd died down.

"First, I have had many titles and names. If the Mimic is too... Negative for your liking, you can refer to me as Six, Courier Six. A former profession of mine." Curious glances from the crowd matched John. Was their boss trying to be more personable? Giving them another moniker didn't really help. Though he supposed it was better than the boogeyman name of Mimic.

"Voidwalkers, why did you sign up to become a mercenary?" His question was blanketed, and John was sure there were a multitude of reasons, but the primary one was always:

"Lien," one of the soldiers answered.

"And what does Lien provide?" Their new boss continued with his arms still behind his back.

Silence reigned over the crowd as they thought of an answer. And, to save his boss, John answered, "Security."

The Mimic nodded his head towards John as he continued, "Security... Food, home, equipment; for not only yourselves but for your families."

"In your time under my employ, you have had over thirty missions in the span of a few months. None have had a failure, and only one has had a single casualty."

"You made this possible," the boss continued while pointing it at the crowd. "Your diligence and hard work make this company what it is. I merely guided you in the right direction and gave you the appropriate funds. And it has worked."

"I ask that you trust me again. Trust that I have a plan for your safety and security. That you are not disposable to me. I recognize every Voidwalker here as elite soldiers worthy of my respect and I know every one of your names and numbers. I created that entire system to protect your very identities from outside threats. Masks to keep your families safe and to symbolize your camaraderie." A hand went to the Mimic's mask, gently brushing up against the white bone-like covering. "It's why I wear one as well."

John had never seen the Mimic-Six look like that before. Contemplative. It made him look at least a bit more human. Six paused as he glanced towards the White Fang who focused on him now. A thought seemed to cross his mind before he turned back towards his soldiers.

"I will do my best to keep you and your families safe when disaster strikes. I understand that is hard to believe, which is why I will give you all…" His gaze turned towards the recording device. "All of you. A choice."

"You may leave my employ now, I will not fault you for that. I know some among you may even be spies for other groups meant to keep tabs on your fellows. That does not matter to me now. All I care about is saving lives."

"Leave," he continued while placing a hand on his chest. "And save yourself." He then pointed towards the ground. "Or stay, and prove yourself the best soldiers in Vale. And for those that do stay…"

The slideshow finally changed to that of a salary wage. A wage that most of the White Fang troops salivated at but the Voidwalkers recognized as a standard wage for them.

"Your families will be allowed safe haven during these trials, I will pay for all expenses involved. And those that stay will also be rewarded…"

The salaries were shown increasing and even John's eyes widened under his mask. That was a large amount, probably on the low end of a Huntsman's salary. From what John was reading, this would double each soldier's pay.

"This is just an initial reward, understand that I can give you benefits that far outweigh those of Ozpin or Ironwood. That when all is said and done, you will have far more than mere Lien to your name."

Adam seemed to glance at Six as well, surprised by the turn of events as the White Fang glared at the screen, green with envy. Well, that's what they get for not working real jobs like them. Was that mean of John to think? Yes. Did he care? No.

"And for those that are spies, understand this offer is for you as well." The Major couldn't confirm it but it definitely felt like the Mimic was grinning under his mask as he continued, "I can offer you more than just amnesty. I recognize your importance, and I want you to understand that I can offer far more than whoever may have hired you."

The Major doubted that Six didn't already know who the spies were. The man had been meticulously watching their every move with the help of his Overseer.

"You are all my soldiers," their boss continued, more assured of himself now. "And my soldiers don't just survive, they thrive. Now… are you with me?"

The answer was far faster and more professional than the White Fang as the Voidwalkers in the room saluted just as they had been trained to do.

The Mimic took an at-ease stance. "Good, then let's go hunt some dogs."

The ride to the compound was thankfully short. Six preferred it that way due to the tense atmosphere inside the APC. White Fang and Voidwalkers stared each other down as they waited. With Adam in another vehicle, Six wasn't sure if he could keep them from killing each other.

Thankfully, it hadn't come to that as they exited the APC they were riding in. These were available thanks to the Voidwalkers and his funding. They wouldn't have much left over after the Festival but it wouldn't really matter. By that time Six would have far more resources at his disposal.

The vehicle was an eight-wheeler of a dark black color with the Voidwalker logo on the side. It could fit a total of twelve passengers comfortably along with two drivers and a gunner. Mounted on top was a .50 cal automated turret with an IFF targeting system to distinguish friendlies and enemies. It wasn't the heaviest armor or greatest weapons but it could transport up to sixteen people if needed.

With that, the Voidwalkers now sported two bullheads, a few APCs, a handful of armored humvees, and a paladin, plus enough explosives and small arms to outfit a small army.

When the APC stopped and opened its doors, the congregation of White Fang and Voidwalker soldiers quickly scrambled out of the vehicle and secured the perimeter. This gave Six ample time to take in his surroundings as he stepped out.

"Take position at points Delta and Echo," Six ordered as he planted his feet onto the soft soil of the forest. He was tired of dealing with the fallout of other people. It was time to get a little payback.

Six followed the squads ahead of him as they split off into different groups. It was a few minutes of hiking before they arrived at the compound, a necessary journey so the enemy didn't hear the vehicles upon their arrival.

The two different factions operated differently. While the Voidwalkers behaved with doctrine and discipline, using sweeping tactics and communication to move as one, the White Fang differed. They remained loosely together within eyesight, behaving more like a pack of predators stalking through the forest than a squad.

White Fang and Voidwalker alike disappeared into the underbrush of the forest as Six made his way to a hill overlooking the compound.

The meeting had gone well in Six's opinion. His Voidwalkers appeared onboard. And he was fairly certain he could keep them under control if need be with the help of his Overseer. The real issue was the White Fang.

Six had no way of ensuring there were no spies among them. No one to leak information purposefully. Or Hell, to just post about it on social media. Not that it would matter at this stage. A verbal admittance wouldn't be enough to get Vale's legal system and investigators in gear, at least, not in time for the Festival. By the time they could try to prosecute the company and its employees, Vale's power struggle will have come to an end.

It didn't matter if Adam was wrong about his men for the Mimic either. Six would just disappear until the Festival. His plans were already in place. There was also the chance that none of the White Fang leaked the information, but it was assuring to know it didn't matter if they did.

The two-story building came into view and Six noted the several windows and doors that lined the outside of the building. It would be easy to find an entrance point but the enemy would also have plentiful vantage points to shoot out of.

Planting himself on the hill nearby, Six laid down on the grass beneath him, placing his anti-material rifle down and against his shoulder. He couldn't help but let an idle hand run against the grass, the soft feeling and noises of the night were foreign but sweet to the Courier's ears. An entire lifetime in the Wasteland would do that to a person.

It was time to use a new tool at his disposal. With the bit of free time he had, Six had done two things. The first was to implement the VI for the Stealth Suit into the Mimic Armor he had made. Which he flipped on with some regret in his mind.

"Hello! Who are we tricking today?" The voice chirped inside his helmet, causing Six to roll his eyes.

He lined up his rifle scope and took aim at the compound below as he replied, "No tricking today. I actually need you to run a new feature with your one-point-seven update."

The VI went silent for a few moments, taking in his words and running diagnostics to catch back up to speed.

"Interesting," it began as it connected to the device attached to the side of his rifle. "This is meant to send radio waves through walls and bounce off conductive devices, correct?"

The contraption attached to the side of his rifle was supposed to do exactly that. The Visual Acquisition via Radio Signals or VARS for short used radio waves to detect humans and Faunus through walls. Essentially, it sent radio waves in a given direction using his scope as the guide. These radio waves would travel through concrete but bounce off conductive materials like metal and water. And since the human body is primarily made of water, it would bounce off individuals revealing their location.

However, the main issue the Courier found was that it sent too much data back and it was jumbled. It became raw data sent back to the machine that couldn't be processed into useful information.

That was where the VI came in. The VI could process that data at speeds Six couldn't hope to match, turning data into information he could use by projecting it onto his scope. The end effect was a stick-figure-like image that he could see through walls, indicating a person was standing there.

Of course, there was a possible way to counter this technology. By lining a building in either water or metal, the VARS wouldn't be able to penetrate its surface. But given this was new technology that he just invented, he likely wouldn't have to worry about that.

Combining this with the IFF tags so he could distinguish between friend and foe and the armor piercing .50 cal rounds, the DoW were in for a bad time.

Using his new piece of equipment, Six counted no less than 20 combatants inside. Unfortunately for them, they had more than twice that number surrounding the building.

"M1 to all teams, counting twenty-three hostiles, thirteen second floor, ten first floor, over," Six reported.

"Adam here, confirming. Proceeding with phase two, over."

Six couldn't help but narrow his eyes in frustration. The White Fang refused to learn the proper radio protocol and etiquette. This included Adam.

However, he couldn't deny the feeling of satisfaction that washed over him as almost forty individuals emerged from the surrounding forest and crept to the edge of the building.

The automated system surrounding the building failed the DoW when his troops broke their encryption and disabled it remotely, thanks to Six's own help in creating faster and better decryption methods.

With the building's layout, there was a single stairwell located at the center of the building. Multiple rooms were sprawled across the first and second floor but his VARS wasn't enough to get an exact layout. All he could see were the moving people who were protected by concrete.

Using the VARS, Six found Adam creeping toward one of the rooms. And taking a quick glance, it looked like there were a few hostiles inside sitting and chatting in a small circle.

"M1 to V1, counting five in the room you're about to enter, over."

"They're about to be in a world of pain," the VI whispered into his ear. "Also, detecting movement from second to first floor."

Before Six could call out the change, a loud bang rang out quickly followed by gunfire.

"Hit them where it hurts," the bull Faunus ordered over the radio as he began his attack, gunfire coming through his comm unit.

The Mimic sighed before lining up his scope with the stairwell again. An enemy heading down the stairs paused as he heard the gunfire. That momentary hesitation was his last mistake as the AI voiced its excitement, "Surprise!"

The .50 cal armor piercing round punched through the thin concrete and the man's head. This wasn't a Dust round either, this was an Earth-made tank piercing round. All Six could see on his end was the stick figure slumping to the floor before rolling down the stairs.

Turning his attention again, Six caught sight of Adam walking into the next room. All of the hostiles in the first room were no longer moving.

Another loud bang rang out and his scope was moved to a room on the opposite end of the building from Adam.

The scope panned over to reveal his Voidwalkers who entered a room after throwing a Light-Dust grenade. He heard two more shots ring out as the occupants of the room went down.

Over the next twenty seconds, all personnel had breached their entry points and eliminated the first floor of its defenders.

"M1 to all teams, confirmed fourteen KIAs, nine hostiles on the second floor. You're free to engage how you see fit, over." As Six relayed the information, he couldn't help but think how Adam had gone against the plan and combined phases two and three.

Originally, Adam was supposed to clean up and lure more in with the promise of only one combatant. Then the other troops would spring into action during phase three. Now they had nine wary enemies on the second floor.

"M1 to all teams, have V1 breach first then support as needed, over."

"D1 here, roger, over." Ah, his trusty Major. At least he could count on him to follow orders.

"Uh oh, here comes trouble," his VI chimed and Six felt the hairs on his neck shoot up. Six was just lining up another shot when he heard the warning and a quick glance at his compass confirmed a new pip. It was directly behind him. He had been too focused on providing support.

Cursing, Six rolled onto his stomach and lifted up his rifle to greet the enemy descending on him.

Bowie knife in hand, the familiar cowboy appearance of Jet the Cleaner was lunging down at him. The knife was in a reverse grip and aimed straight at Six's neck.

"Gotch'ya, didn't I?!" The mercenary shouted as he plunged his knife down, causing his cowboy hat to fall from his head. A wide pearly and savage grin was split across his face, accentuating the light wrinkles on his face.

At the same time, Six turned his rifle at the cowboy's torso and fired.

Searing pain shot through Six's chest as the blade plunged through his armor, forced through by the Aura-enhanced strength of Jet. Its cold steel was now soaked in his blood as only the handle was sticking out of him now. If Six had to guess, its sheer size meant it probably went all the way through too.

A golden flare was flicking across the mercenary as he backed away, gripping his side as crimson dripped down his side. It looked like the mercenary had been hit by the rifle which had punched a hole through his Aura and the left side of his stomach. It wasn't as sizeable as Six would've liked, being maybe ping-pong-ball sized thanks to the man's Aura. At least his rifle had enough punch to get through his Aura, even if it didn't shatter.

Quickly recalling his studies about Aura, Six remembered that a strong enough force could pierce Aura without breaking it. But it always required a concentrated force applied to a specific area of the Aura.

"That… That's-Fuck," the cowboy muttered as he stepped back and gripped his side with one hand. "That's a real kick in the balls," he sputtered out, blood trickling down his lips.

Luckily for the Mimic, the blade hadn't pierced his heart, but it had come damn close. Glancing down, he could see that it was a little too far to the left. It looked like Jet had angled it to slide between his ribs. If it had shattered his metallic heart, even Six probably wouldn't survive that.

But even as Six assessed the damage to his chest, he noticed that golden flickering Aura covering the shattered part of where the bullet hit. And as it closed, he could also see that gaping wound slowly knitting itself back together as well.

Unlike Jet, Six couldn't heal like that, and from the way he was struggling to breathe, his left lung had definitely been punctured. Hopefully, the knife didn't cause a traumatic pneumothorax. It was better to remove the knife and use stimpaks rapidly to be safe.

"Too bad for you… Ya ain't got no Aura." As the mercenary commented on Six's disadvantage, he stepped forward and reached down for his knife.

Six didn't give him the chance. Instead, the Mimic pulled the Mysterious Magnum from its holster and fired thrice. The first bullet went wide but the next two hit true.

The Huntsman flinched as his form was pelted by two .44 rounds. The golden sheen across his body flared twice as well, cracking all over. This guy still wasn't down after two magnum rounds and an armor piercing .50 cal? What was it going to take?

The hammer of Six's revolver cocked back again as the Cleaner turned and darted back into the treeline. Fucker was smarter than Six gave him credit for. Six would have made sure the next shot went through the Cleaner's eye

"See ya in a bit!" The mercenary taunted as he retreated further into the forest. Sooner than the man expected if Six had anything to say about it.

He made the mistake of not just killing Six then and there. That was bad. Six may want to keep his ability hidden, but not at the cost of his own life. The next time that asshole showed his face, he was getting a bullet between the eyes.

The Courier grunted as he grasped the handle of the massive knife currently stabbed through him. With his enhanced strength and sheer grit, Six pulled.

Every inch he got was excruciating, like being stabbed all over again. The blade dug and cut against nerves already raw and he could feel the knife through every inch of him. The disgusting wet noise of it slowly exiting did nothing to soothe Six as he pulled. One inch, two, three. Extruciating pain seared his shoulder but he pressed on. And eventually–with one last wet squelching noise–the knife was pulled free and tossed to the side.

That stupid shit was dead! How did he even sneak up on him? Did it have something to do with his Semblance, his Aura? He didn't think Aura could be applied for stealth but there was a lot he didn't know about the stupid bullshit.

Or maybe Six was just getting used to not being hunted. This would have never happened in the Mojave. Just a few months of nice and peaceful life and he was already getting dull. He didn't have time for this though.

Six materialized two stimpaks before injecting himself. He could already feel the bleeding wound stitching back together. And gently prodding himself, he didn't think anything else was hurt. Though it did feel like his sternum was possibly fractured. Nothing the stimpaks and his enhancements couldn't handle.

Lifting his mask, Six spat blood onto the grass before lowering it again. It was still difficult to breathe but with every moment that passed, he felt better.

If the Courier had to guess, the only reason he wasn't dead was because of his enhancements. His bones weren't just fragile human bones but were lined with kinds of metals, some having been replaced entirely. It was likely that the knife had glanced off his sternum and went away from his heart.

Not one to lay around, the Mimic lunged to his feet even as his chest was still healing. A burning and aching pain was replacing the sharp one. He just needed to catch that fucker before he got away.

"Don't let him get away, he doesn't deserve life!" The VI voiced its bloodlust, making Six consider shutting it down. Maybe it was becoming just a little too self-aware.

Six darted into the forest, Rapidly Reloading his revolver as he did. Years of practice made this almost second nature to him as he dexterously ejected the two spent casings and replaced them with two live rounds. He wasn't letting this prick get away. No one stabbed him and got away.

Glancing around, Six used his enhanced Perception to spot the deep footprints of the mercenary and pursued. Even though the Cleaner was likely faster, Six would have more endurance in the long run, and Jet wouldn't lose him now that he had the scent.

Or at least, Six thought that would happen until he was forced to stop. Glancing down, he noticed a thin tripwire hidden in the underbrush of the forest. Was this prepared just now or in advance?

But he wasn't given a moment to rest. It was only thanks to his hearing and instinct that Six ducked down, narrowly avoiding a makeshift wooden spear that sailed past him.

"Welcome to the hunting grounds my friend! Let's have some fun before your friends arrive!" The cowboy called out from further in the forest. Unfortunately for the mercenary, Six could see the red pip on his compass and knew the exact direction the man was in. Though the pip was moving rapidly indicating he was changing positions.

Six scolded himself, he had let his survival instincts and anger kick in, neglecting to check in with the rest of his allies.

"M1 to all teams," Six wheezed out before taking another long breath in. His chest was still recovering it seemed. "I've been ambushed and am roughly a quarter mile West of your position. Hostile is one Aura and Semblance unlocked user, over."

It was the Major who replied. "This is D1, V1 is currently on his way to your position, the hostiles here are dealt with, over."

Six ducked behind a tree as he continued to watch the pip move. "M1, copy that, over." He then took a moment to catch his breath as he watched the red pip slow down. Glancing around his tree, it looked like Jet had taken cover behind a different large oak tree. Were they still called oak trees on Remnant? A question for later.

There was a thick silence that descended over the forest as Six prepared his revolver, aiming at the tree and waiting for the man to make a move. His chest burned and made it harder to move his arm but he held steady. This was no time to acknowledge his pain, at least for just a little while. The mercenary knew that time was not on his side, so it was likely the man would make the first attack.

What Six didn't expect was for the man to begin jumping from tree to tree in rapid succession right at him. The Cleaner had clambered up and was jumping from branch to branch and rapidly approaching. Instead of panicking, Six took a calming breath in, took aim, and fired.

His first shot would have hit home if not for the man ducking behind a tree. The second was just barely deflected with a spare branch the man had picked up. But as the mercenary finally lunged at him, he wasn't able to deflect the shot that slammed into his shoulder, cracking his Aura almost completely now.

But the man landed, attempting to stomp Six as he did, who instead lunged to the side and out of the strike. But when the Courier raised his magnum, the cowboy reached a hand out and grabbed the barrel.

Six fired a round to wrench his weapon free from his grasp but Aura strength was no joke and he held onto it, making sure that the barrel was always pointed away from him.

Kicking his leg out, Six managed to force the man back from the blow to his abdomen, giving just enough time for the Mimic to raise his revolver and fire.

But at the last moment, Six saw the glint of a golden coin as it sailed into the air.

"Now ain't that lucky," Jet commented as the bullet whizzed by his head. And Six couldn't help the fury that built up inside him. The coin fell to the ground, a fresh new hole in its side. The thing had somehow intercepted his bullet, just barely changing the trajectory of his round so it missed. The chances of that happening were infinitesimally small. Fucking Semblances!

The cowboy lunged forward, attempting to kick Six who drew his combat knife. But even as the Courier slashed the mercenary's shoulder, the Cleaner smashed his foot into Six's chest.

Six let out a gasp as the wind was knocked out of and he crashed to the ground, knife scattering to the side, only to let out the air remaining in his lungs when something sharp stabbed into his back.

Overcoming the horrid sensation in his lower back, the Mimic barely managed to pry himself off whatever just stabbed him and rolled to the side. A foot met where he had been, sinking into the dirt with the sheer force of the Cleaner's stomp.

Looking next to his opponent's foot, Six saw a small spike trap, one that looked like it was designed to be stepped on. It was now a deep crimson red. How many tricks did this maniac set up in the forest?

Growling, the Courier reached into his duster and materialized his gauntlet with electric and hardlight Dust. As he did so, he fired a final round at the Cleaner, hoping to lure the cocky asshole in.

The Cleaner took the bait, eating the rounds with his Aura as he went to deliver another frontal kick to Six's gut. But when he did, the Courier projected a small hardlight barrier in front of him, no bigger than a buckler. Normally, this would serve to strengthen his barrier by reducing its size, but that wasn't the effect Six was going for.

When the mercenary's boot was stopped by the barrier, he cursed as he tried to pull away. There wasn't enough time to do so as the Mimic raised his gauntlet and fired the grappling hook.

Jet's eyes widened as he shouted, "Shit!" The man leaning his head just enough to not get impaled by the projectile which instead sank into a tree behind him. A line extended from Six's gauntlet to the tree now.

"You're in deep shit now-" The Cleaner tried to taunt as he brought his leg down to regain his balance but was cut off by the sound of whirring coming from the gauntlet. The mechanism in it activated, reeling Six towards where the grappling hook had sunk into the tree. Or more accurately, sent his gauntlet flying at the Cleaner's face at remarkable speeds. And since his hardlight barrier was rather small, Six sailed right past it.

This time the mercenary didn't even have time to curse as the gauntlet smashed against his Aura with the piston shooting forward, causing the golden sheen to flare and nearly break as he was sent falling backwards. His body twitched from the electric Dust Six had infused into his strike.

The Courier let a satisfied and savage grin settle across his face as the Cleaner landed back on his own trap twitching.

It was time to finish this.

Stepping forward, he brought the grappling line back before dropping the gauntlet and materializing his other one. The one with burn Dust.

Before the Cleaner could recover from his spasms, Six cocked his arm back and brought it down with all the force he could muster, coupled with an explosion.

The trees shook and leaves fell, the ground cracking as a wave of fire shot out from the point of impact. It singed the grass around them and even Six's own pants. Not that he cared. It was more than worth it when that golden sheen shattered and Jet was forced back onto his own trap with a gasp and another spurt of blood trickling down his lips.

"Well… Shit…" The cowboy commented before letting out a low and chortled chuckle.

Blood trickled from his lips as he looked up with a smile at Six. "Shit, feels like I set up all those traps for nothing now… You didn't even get to see half of them! How'd you avoid them?"

"I've just had a lot of Lessons Learned is all," Six replied as he raised his revolver towards the cowboy's head. A little bit of that Mojave accent was slipping through now. "Time for you to learn your last."

Jet gripped his side, his wound must have still been hurting as Six looked him over. The Courier was still hurting too. He could feel where that knife had gone in. The ache of his cybernetics keeping his arm and lung going. The way his chest burned when he breathed. Not to mention the fresh wound in his back that was slowly mending. It was likely that in a day or so, that pain would fade. But for now, it made his mind sharp and focused on what he needed to do.

As he stared down at the Cleaner at his feet, Six was reminded of a certain Huntsman he buried in an unmarked and shallow grave near a no-name town. An event that was eerily like when Benny buried him. The thought made him sick to his stomach.

But this wasn't like that. Jet was a murderer, a Cleaner, a killer for money. Someone who deserved to die.

And he wasn't? He traveled the Wasteland for many years and killed for what he needed… What about the men he paid to kill people?

That didn't matter. Not only was it not Six's problem, but the man had tried to kill. Forgiving a murderer that tries to murder you is just stupid.

A certain red-haired girl's words on forgiveness ran through his head as he stared down at the man.

"Shit…" Six muttered, drawing the cowboy's attention. "What are they paying you?"

The question caused the cowboy to raise an eyebrow and tilt his head back as he questioned, "Come again?"

"What. Are. They. Paying. You?" The Mimic repeated slower. "Come on, I know you're not deaf."

A look of shock crossed the man's face as his mouth hung open and his eyes raised. Then it turned into a wide bloody grin as he responded, "No shit? You wanna hire me? After I just tried to kill you. You crazy ass!" The cowboy threw back his head and barked out a throaty laugh before it descended back into pained grunts from his wound.

"I should tell you I don't come cheap," the man continued, seemingly thinking the idea over. "Whatever you're thinking... Double it." He paused again, tapping his chin. "Oh, and a coin to replace the one you shot, ya ass."

The man was quick to change sides and at the questioning head tilt, the cowboy explained himself.

"I was only loyal to that ass Dream so long as I got to fight you. Only reason I even came out of retirement is I had to settle which of us is better." He paused and looked down at himself for a moment. When he looked back up, his smile was smaller as he responded, "I suppose we solved that debate."

The Cleaner got to his feet with a smirk and Six couldn't help but ask, "How did you find me?"

"Oh, pretty easy. The Dogs have plenty of resources and records." Picking up his discarded hat while Six picked up his discarded weapons, the Cleaner continued. "I just had to track what the Voidwalkers had been doing. What DoW compounds they've been hitting, and knowing you're connected... All I had to do is figure out where your boys were going to be. And you showed up."

The fact someone had been able to track him doing bode well. If he could, who was to say someone else wouldn't be able to either? Not that Opzin would resort to that tactic. And Cinder didn't have a reason to... Yet. An acceptable risk for now.

"My turn," Jet began as he got comfortable against a tree. "What is up with the hole in your chest? How'd it heal so fast? You don't got Aura."

Six glared at his new hire. Sending as much tired hate as he could through his gaze. He did not want to have this discussion now. Or ever, for that matter.

"Fine fine, keep your secrets," the Cleaner surrendered as he threw his hands up. "Just keep my pay in mind yeah?" Even as the two talked, his Aura had recovered, at least partially, mending the worst of the Cleaner's wounds quickly. It looked like Six had only barely punched through the man's Aura. Just how durable was an experienced Huntsman?

"No!" a new voice called out, violent and angry. The coin mercenary was forced to lunge back down and into the ground as a red blur cut the tree behind him in two, toppling it over as it fell with a loud crash, shaking the ground.

Adam had arrived.

"We will not consort with human filth like him!" Adam raged as he turned. "A Cleaner! A CLEANER!" He shouted into the forest. "He has to die!"

Fucks sake, why was this shit always so complicated.

But instead of being afraid or angry, his possible new hire was amused. A harsh laugh rang through the forest as the furious White Fang officer turned to him.

"Y-You… You think I'm human?" He turned over before brushing his duster aside, revealing his small bushy tail. "You fuckin' White Fang are all the same. Have been for over a decade."

"Oh, woe is me, I'm Faunus and oppressed," the mercenary taunted as he slowly got to his feet. His declaration had stalled Adam's murderous intent as he stared confused. "Let me use other people doing bad things as an excuse to kill whoever I want!" The man continued taunting, bringing his hands to his chest and fake sniffling. "Ain't life just so hard?"

"News flash ya little shit. I've been on the road for twice your fuckin' age, and if there's one thing I've learned…" His voice lost its humor as he rose to his full height. "All people, Faunus or human, are shit."

Six idly wondered if he made the right decision. He could still kill the man with the last round in his revolver. But Jet's words did mirror his own, if only slightly more cynical.

"Shit, if it makes ya feel better, I'll show this little thing off to the rest of your boys," Jet joked as he brushed aside his duster again. He wiggled the tail just above his butt before laughing again. What a weirdo.

"Actually," Six interjected, "you are going to need to make amends with the Voidwalkers. Given you killed one of my soldiers." Any anger that Six had just suppressed threatened to surface again as he stared at the mercenary.

Sensing the Terrifying Presence building, the cowboy had the shame to at least look sheepish as he ceded Six's point. "I know, I know. And I'll make sure to meet with 'em and tell 'em I'm on your side, that what happened was just business. Shit, I'll even bring 'em gifts."

"Good," Six replied as he forced himself to calm down. "I'll schedule you to do so."

"This isn't right…" Adam trailed off as he tried to come to terms with what was happening. "He's a murderer and should be put down. Regardless of if he's Faunus or not."

Oh, Adam needed to be careful, he was learning that Faunus could be bad too. Maybe Six was finally getting through to him.

"And we aren't?" Six questioned as he stared down at his own revolver before glancing at Adam's katana. "How many people have we killed in pursuit of some greater goal? Jet just doesn't pretend he's a better person is all."

"I won't accept it, you murdered our own!" Adam shouted as he lifted his blade towards Jet again.

A pained chuckle escaped Jet as he replied, "You think we had a choice? Most of us didn't know any better, we thought we were fighting for peace and stopping chaos. And when I realized that was wrong, I got out, went to Vacuo."

That at least explained the accent.

For a moment, the bull Faunus lowered his blade. "No… No! What you did during the Revolution can't be forgiven! You choose to side with them, to oppress our own people!" Adam shouted as he lifted his blade towards Jet again.

The Cleaner sighed. "Didn't you hear a thing I said boy? We were picked young, too young to know different, and raised to kill. How are you supposed to know right and wrong when we're indoctrinated like that? It's damn lucky I even realized the truth at all!"

Getting to his shaky feet before spitting out more blood, Jet looked Adam in the eye. "I won't apologize for what I did. It was monstrous but when I realized the truth I left."

At that statement, Adam paused and grew contemplative. Perhaps even he could see the parallels between Jet and Blake. Six certainly could.

"You…" Adam began before trailing off. But eventually, he sighed before replying, "Fine. I'll meet you back with the others." He then pointed at Jet before continuing, "And you better not come. Walk your ass back to Vale if you know what's good for you."

With a huff, the White Fang officer turned and stalked back into the forest with his shoulders slumped. It was kind of depressing. Six felt like he had just kicked a puppy. But Adam needed to hear it to grow. More importantly, Six couldn't live with his own conscience if he killed the man here. Since when did he start thinking like that?

"So… I guess I should give you my Scroll number then, eh boss?"

And as the cowboy spoke, Six could feel that his headaches were only going to grow in the future.

Author's Notes:

VARS is based on real-world technology. I can't remember what it's called now as it's been a while since I wrote this chapter. It isn't as strong as VARS but some flexibility with how it works is a given in fiction.

Someone asked if a certain character in my story was inspired by Death from "The Last Wish" movie. Yes, yes he is.

Gear:

Burned Man's Armor

Elite Riot Gear (Modified: Mimic Edition)

Stealth Suit Mk. II (Firmware Version 1.7)

Civilian Clothing

Beacon Uniform

Rebreather

Maria

Survivalist Rifle

Mysterious Magnum

Modified Anti-Material Rifle.

YCS/186 Gauss Rifle variant (Magnetic Version)

Stimpaks (108)

C4 - Plastic explosives (0)

Burn Dust – Plastic explosives (5)

Detonator.

Frag Grenades (1)

Burn Dust Grenades (4)

Gravity Dust Mines (3)

Burn Dust Mines (40)

Combat Knife.

Plasma Grenades (3)

Plasma Mines (0)

WulfsBann Power Fist (x2) (Mobility Modification)