It was a good day to fly, for those in the world who could anyways. The weather was mostly clear, with a scattering of broken clouds that one could duck under, over, around, or into if they were in a mood to bluster themselves. Hardly any wind to bump the fliers around, and a cooler day in the midrange of the sixties in Fahrenheit provided better air and better performance. All in all it was an excellent day for anything, but especially for an air show, and lucky enough it would be Ruby's first air show.

"YAAANG! ARE YOU READY YET!?"

The annoyed voice rang through the flat her team collectively shared, enough to annoy the others. Even with their own separate rooms now she had a problem with roommate hospitality. But it was important enough to warrant the noise, at least to her.

"Ruby, would you PLEASE keep your voice down?" Weiss asked in her usual calm but annoyed tone.

"But I don't want to be late again! And last time when our planes landed I was late, even though I left way early! Those cab drivers take way too long."

"You probably could have made it there faster yourself," Blake chimed in from the couch in the living room.

"Uh… you're probably right… why didn't I think of that?" she wondered. "No matter! Today me and Yang are finally gonna get to see them! Nothing's going to stop us this time!"

Though Weiss could understand Ruby's excitement, it was still giving her a headache. She could only take so much chatter in the morning; even she had woken up hours ago. She tried to sip on a cup of warm, quality tea as part of her usual morning routine, and focus on her own plans for her day off. It was still difficult to do this as Ruby kept calling to hurry along her sister.

The only other source of noise was the morning news report playing over the television in the living room. None of them paid any proper mind to it, as it had little direct impact on their lives or jobs, save for Blake. She lay stretched out on the couch, gazing into another book, half-heartedly reading and pretending not to listen, though it was not enough to trick any of the girls if they had bothered to pay attention. She was the one who had turned it on in the first place. Ruby only caught a passing update as she strolled back through the room.

"-with proper oversight. It was confirmed that diplomatic talks did break down yesterday, with the Atlas delegation walking out of the conference. The discussions have been held in San Francisco for nearly a week now between various nations as a way of easing tensions in the Pacific, with the United States acting as the mediator between the Remnant nations. The Atlas delegation refused continued discussions, claiming that Menagerie has been supplying weapons to extremist groups. The Menagerie delegates walked out themselves not long after, only stating that the United States was acting in 'bad faith'. The U.S. and various other nations have stated their wish for a renewed round of talks, scheduled for the following month, though a new location has yet to be determined."

"Yaaaaaannng!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming, relax," her sister called, marching down the stairs, still shaking off the last of the morning's drowsiness while still combing her hair. "Y'know, if we just taught you how to drive you wouldn't have to take taxis or wait on your big sis to drive you around everywhere."

"What? I just wanted to spend some time with my sister is all, I thought this would be fun. Think of it as a, partial-team morale building adventure!"

"Uh huh, totally," the blonde smirked. "You ready to go Rubes?"

"Yep, let's roll!"

"King Eight, clear of clouds, over."

"Got you."

The full squadron of F-15EX Eagles cruised towards the coast, their grey paint camouflage still reflecting the sunlight in brilliant shines at the right angles. They would not be the first outsiders to enter Vale, nor even the first fighter jets, but they would be the first combat unit of America's Air Force to go there. Not only for a visit, but to be stationed there, a new sign of good will between the United States and this new, previously isolated country. In addition to helping 'improve relations' between the countries on a personal level, as per their briefing, they would assist the new and fledgling Valien Air Defense Force in getting used to their own new jets, along with helping to 'control' some of the local wildlife the Remnant continents had become known for.

"Finally got the coast in sight, took long enough," one of the pilots complained.

"It wasn't that long of a flight."

"I meant the whole thing. I tried to tell them, it'd be easier to just fly out from Oregon or Alaska, go between Atlas and Mistral, and come in from the east. We could just hit the tanker on the way there, or Hell just land at Wake or Midway. But sending us to Japan?"

"What's wrong with Japan Chip? I thought you liked the girls and food over there."

"Yeah I like the girls. Not the Viper guys at Misawa."

"Got to be cordial with your fellow pilots Chip. Don't you forget our lead was a Viper driver."

"Just meant I didn't like them in that way."

"Aw, you sure about that? You're gonna break that poor Major's heart!"

"Snapper you're an asshole you know that?"

"King Lead, King Eight, got another cell ahead of us. Might lose visual again for a few seconds."

"Copy that."

Captain Allen Jackson lead his formation of five Eagles in a slight left turn to avoid the worst of a thunder cloud that lay ahead of them, gingerly nudging his plane over as the others kept position with him. His was Bravo Flight, the second of four flights, give or take, of the newly reborn 514th Fighter Squadron, stood back up not very long ago, the King squadron, based on the older squadron's identifier emblem. As King Eight, he had many responsibilities to juggle, not the least of which were the many code names he had to respond to.

Among the trails of the greater sky, the squadron actually held the name of FORD to all outside flight control stations, of which he was FORD 66; it was a temporary name that was given for the civilian radar controllers and changed with every flight. Internally, among the more immediate military radio communications and within the squadron itself, was the King designation as their callsign. He was King Eight, the number eight position in the squadron, or at other time King Two-One, the designation for Bravo Flight's lead. In the informal tense, among his many wingmen, his friends and comrades, he would be referred to by the tac-name they had so graciously gifted him with when he joined long ago, Saint.

"Ach-damn! Little bumpy around that cloud, you guys all good?" he asked before cutting himself off again. "We're nearing the coast so let's do our count here real quick. Bravo, sound off, Two-One, Saint."

"Two-Two, Salt."

"Two-Three, Chip."

"Two-Four, Ram."

"Two-Five, Boozer."

"King Lead, King Eight, eyeball on you now, all good."

"Visual on you too, Eight," the squadron leader confirmed. "Alright King squadron, we're going to be crossing over land soon, get yourselves ready for landing."

The leading F-15 switched over his radio to contact their ground team.

"Vale approach, FORD flight, how copy, over?"

"Clear copy, FORD, go ahead."

"FORD is feet dry, inbound for landing, we have information Echo."

"Affirmative FORD, we'll have your flights set up in a holding pattern and bring you in one at a time. You can expect runway nine-zero, winds should be calm. Tell your guys to contact approach and we'll split them off."

The pilots did as they were told, each flight being vectored to different directions and holding patterns to organize the landings. Bravo Flight would be farther back in the line, and thus had to wait longer, but patience was a key factor for flying, and a few more minutes before getting on the ground was nothing. Until then they only had to kill more time until they were contacted by the ground controllers.

"So Salt, you ready to try out a whole new world of booze down there?" Ram asked, less of devious intent and more to pass the minutes.

"Yeah, now that ought to be fun. What do you think Saint?"

"Ah, you know me boys, has to be a special occasion."

"Hey, dude, you're landing on an alien continent. That counts as special!" Ram shot back.

"Yeah, yeah you're right about that."

"Man, it's got to be crazy!" he continued. "You heard they put that Dust stuff in their drinks? I heard they put it on some of the stuff they eat! That shit they use for guns and gas and shit?"

"Yeah, that's one Hell of a spice," Saint agreed. "We'll have to start spicing our rum with gunpowder to keep up."

"Ooooh, that's a cool idea," Salt commented with some realized curiosity. "You mind if I steal that idea? I could start a brand with that you know? And give you credit for the idea. Pretty sure just a few grains of that stuff isn't lethal right?"

"Hah, only if you give me part of the cut!"

"FORD 66, Vale approach," the ground operator cut in.

"Approach, FORD 66."

"Contact Vale tower on 101.15, you'll be clear for the option on runway nine-zero but we may have you enter the pattern to give the guys before you some time."

"Copy that, will contact tower."

Jackson complied, switching over and following the tower's instructions. Looking down below him, the city of Vale sprawled along the coastline, in most ways not particularly different than any other city on the planet. There were some notable differences, like their massive communications tower that ran up into the sky. The academy was also a standout complex; according to the rumors they trained superhuman warriors there that helped battle the evils their world had faced as long as history could tell. Still, all the myths and rumors were just that, they were murky and ambiguous, lacking details, but now they'd get a better chance at investigation. That was all far away though, right now very literally, as the structures existed far from the airport where they could post potential flight hazards. Vale's airport was instead located on the opposite end on the outskirts of town.

"I sure hope the engineers we sent over did everything right," he thought to himself, a final minuscule worry before he had to focus on his landing. "They must have. If it's good enough for a Phantom it'll be good enough for this right?"

The pilot brought his Eagle around, lining it up with the runway properly. All of the relevant airport data was filtered into the computer for calculations, now all he had to do was actually fly the plane accordingly. A simple enough task that still required precision and all of the focus one could muster. The Captain felt a few lines of sweat run on the side of his head as he descended, eyes darting back and forth. His airspeed, his degrees, the runway, his alignment, airspeed again, his altitude and descent, airspeed, back and forth.

"Ok, looking good, throttle set, speed good… and… up… up a little bit," he talked himself through his own actions for assurance, pulling the Eagle's nose upward to the exact degree the computer required. "There! Right there, two hundred feet, catch the stick don't let it slip, one-fifty… throttle! Little more power… there we go, pitch, one-hundred… on the line… there!"

The F-15's main tires touched down, the right tire a half-second before the left. There was a minor bounce, and then another, as Jackson pulled back on the throttle. He held back on the flight stick to keep the nose up a bit longer, slowing the plane down, riding along the main tires. Finally the plane slowed and gravity took over, dragging the front landing gear down into the tarmac. It came down a little harder than he would have liked, but nothing that could damage the sturdy bird.

"Alright, good landing, not perfect, got to watch that throttle more," he noted to himself mentally. "Always the self-critic Saint. Got to be, that makes a good flier. And the others will help with that too. Everyone's a critic."

The crowd of local spectators watched as the various new jets taxied in to parking spots as others flew overhead in the pattern, with Ruby and Yang among them at the front. The American guards there were few, not really enough to control a crowd of this size, but they were well-behaved and kept behind the line which they were designated. All save for Ruby, who was bouncing in place and eager to go explore. Though the sentries and their weapons seemed imposing to the average citizen, they probably stood no real chance of stopping the huntress if she decided to make a break for it; one dash of her semblance and she'd be past the guards before they could blink.

Realistically she was held back by her sister, who, despite some initial reservations, was having a good time. It had been a long time since she had seen her younger sibling this excited; it probably rivaled graduation day for them at Beacon. And it was impressive seeing these new airplanes and the sheer power they gave off. Flying in any of Remnants aircraft was always a smooth and slow experience, provided there were no Grimm attacks, but now as the fighters flew low overhead they gave off a clear feeling of what they were about. The loud, screeching, thunderous shouts from their engines, the sleek, imposing, powerful look; these were designed to fight, to fight hard, and to win. She could appreciate that.

As most of the jets parked and spaced out, the pilots began to pull themselves out of the cockpits and clamber down the sides of their planes, stretching, easing off, talking with the ground crews and preparing to meet. From first glance, she could tell the men who were flying them were something special too, different from the usual Remnant pilots. They were clearly sturdier than most, and even through the green of the flight suits they were much more fit than the average man, much stronger, and it helped that most seemed to keep up their appearance

"Look at that," she said.

"I am, they're so cool! Just like I thought they would be!" Ruby agreed. "I can't wait to go look at them, I wonder what they run on if they don't use Dust. I've never heard a sound like that before, and-"

"I didn't mean the plane Ruby, I meant look at who's getting out of the plane."

"Wha- Yaaang, do you really need to talk about boys right now?" her sister complained.

"No Ruby, that's not a boy, that's a man."

"Ugh, could you please not embarrass me in front of the new alien… guest… people?"

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the guards allowed the spectators onto the ramp, guiding most along as they went, but the crowd started to spread out. Most of the squadron had landed, and there were plenty of jets to choose for their introduction to the fighter. For their part, the two sisters broke off and selected one of the ones parked farther out, which both had been eyeing since it's landing, well away from the rest of the noisy crowd, or the guards for that matter. They arrived as the ground crew was leaving to marshal in another Eagle, with the pilot standing by his aircraft in the shade of its shadow, wiping the moisture from his brow; in fact, he did not notice them until Yang shouted to him.

"Heeeeyyy~!"

Jackson turned to meet his first two guests. Secretly he hoped that being parked farther off would not get him much attention, and that seemed to still be mostly true. They were two young women, dressed much more colorfully than the folks back home, much brighter too. It was a little surprising but nothing too out of the ordinary yet, though the sudden appearance still caught him flat-footed in the moment.

"Oh, hey, good morning," he answered simply, getting distracted by the first impressions. "Are you two locals? Coming to see the plane right?"

"Yep!" the shorter one jumped in excitement. "I'm Ruby! What kind of plane is this? Where's the gun on it?"

"Maybe you should relax and ask him what his name is first," her older sister commented on her manners, herself leaning with her arm propped against the nose of the F-15 like she owned it. "Name's Yang, by the way."

"Yang, got it."

"Better not forget it flyboy."

"Hah, I'll try, I suck with names but I got a… pretty unique look to match this one to."

"Uh, sorry about that," Ruby piped up. "I guess I get a little excited over stuff like this."

"Hey, relax, honestly a lot of people ask more about the Eagle than me."

"Eagle? Is that what this thing is called?"

"Yep, F-15EX, officially the Eagle II," Saint announced proudly, tapping his hand on the side of the air intake. "It primarily for air-to-air combat but it can do other missions too. The airframe design is old but still solid, and this new model's upgraded with all the state-of-the-art bells n whistles a fighter jocky could want."

"Can you tell me all about the designs?" she asked.

"Well, I can tell you what I'm allowed to tell you," the pilot agreed. "Forty-Eight foot wingspan, can climb up to around sixty-thousand feet, F110 engines can push it past two-point-five."

"Two-point-five what?"

"Mach."

The two girls stared at him, as if he were speaking a foreign language.

"Mach is the sound barrier. If you hit mach you're going faster than the speed of sound."

Ruby's eyes lit up while Yang looked at him with a dubious stare.

"What? No way," the blonde retorted. "Going faster than sound? I mean sure some stuff like… maybe bullets and stuff, but this huge thing? That sounds like comic book stuff."

"Well, doubt not Miss Yang, the future is today! Not only can this beast go supersonic, it can go past mach two. So I can drive at twice the speed of sound."

"Haha, jeez you're trying hard to impress us huh?" she said, trying to have fun and mess with the newcomer. "Does this kind of boasting work on the girls where you come from?"

Jackson thought for a moment, more debating what to do, but decided playing along in this back-and-forth game would make for good fun.

"Yeah, like you wouldn't believe. Does it work on the girls here too?"

"Hah, at least you're keeping my attention!"

Jackson chuckled a bit in return before turning back to Ruby, who was still examining the aircraft closely from where she was standing.

"Well, I have to admit, usually it's boys I see out here asking about engineering stuff. You an engineer yourself ma'am?"

"Mmm, nope! Well, not for my job anyways. I'm just really interested in weapons! I had to design mine myself, you know!"

"You design weapons?"

"Just mine, every student that goes to Beacon has to."

"We're Huntresses," Yang finally mentioned. "We should probably mention that."

Saint was thoroughly surprised by this. Usually in events like this he was the celebrity in the spotlight, not a position he enjoyed all that much but now it was reversed. What kind of luck did he have meeting hunters on his first day? Though he himself was still something special, an alien with a war machine, and in the end both were something unique. Still, it was a real blindside for him.

"Huntresses? Like… those superheroes right?"

Yang laughed again, much harder this time, though Ruby was much more honest in her view.

"Yeah kind of! And don't mind Yang, we're totally doing a good job as heroes. My team's saved tons of people from Grimm attacks before we even graduated from Beacon, not to mention fighting all those bad guys. Criminals and stuff, you know?"

"Damn, feels like I'm talking to royalty now."

"I'd appreciate the princess treatment, but really we're not all that different," Yang said, trying to play on her humility a bit more. "I mean we've got Aura and Semblances and weapons and training and stuff. But, yeah, totally normal people. And there's a ton of us anyways, so you're bound to run into more."

"Really? That academy puts out a lot of them huh?"

"Yeah, Beacon is one of the best. The world's always needed Huntsmen to protect the handful of civilized places from the bigger Grimm attacks. Soldiers and militia can only handle so much, and when a Taij- uh, a giant snake comes to eat everyone, you need someone a little tougher than that. Now though, with all the weapons your world has, all the stuff you've been selling, things are a little more peaceful."

"I certainly don't intend to put you all out of a job."

"Nah, I totally appreciate it. Grimm are never going to be gone forever, and it makes our job a little easier. Also nice that a lot more of the countryside gets cleaned out, the kingdoms have been able to expand a little. It's nice not being stuck in a few cities, you know?"

"Sir, where's the gun on this thing? I can't find it!"

Jackson turned around and was shocked to find Ruby standing on top of the plane, on its back close to the airbrakes. His initial confusion was at a loss as to how she had gotten up there without him noticing, or at all. He quickly dropped that mystery and turned to the fact that she was standing on a multi-million dollar piece of weaponry and ran the risk of damaging it, or injuring herself.

"Wha-DOWN! GET DOWN FROM THERE!"

The girl was stunned by the yelling, but quickly complied with the pilot's demands. The Captain saw her shift into what seemed to be an orb and shoot down with a dark red trail and rematerialize on the ground, leaving a few red petals in the air, all in less than a second. Ruby had a thoroughly embarrassed look on her; Jackson was at a complete loss for words for what he had seen.

"Sorry," she muttered sheepishly.

"I-uh… it's ok… it's fine, really. Just didn't want any damage, to you or the plane I mean," he stammered. "What… what was that?"

"Oh, that? That was just my Semblance-ohhh right, you don't have those here," she realized. "Everyone who gets their Aura unlocked gets a semblance. It's like a special ability or something, we get to do cool stuff!"

"Unlock a what now?"

"It's like a superpower," Yang cut in to give a curter example. "Everyone gets one."

"Oh, I get it, yeah it's pretty cool. Sure wish I had something like that."

"Yeah, but you get this!" Ruby replies, waving her arms out at the fighter jet. "Still, sorry I got on top of it. I didn't mean to break anything."

"Well, I can't let you stand on the plane, but if you promise not to touch anything or take any pictures I can let you have a look at the cockpit."

Happy with the consolation, Jackson ensured the ladder was sturdy before helping Ruby up. After a basic explanation, which even at its simplest seemed a bit much for the Huntress, he left Ruby to explore it further as he clambered down. He turned to Yang, still relaxing against the side of the plane, smiling warmly, her purple eyes gleaming in the light.

"Hey, thanks for showing her all this stuff," Yang told him, appreciating the happy mood her sister was in.

"Yeah, of course. You enjoying yourself too? Are you interested in all this?"

"Yeah totally, it's really impressive stuff. I guess I just don't get as excited as Ruby does."

"You have to keep up the calm, cool girl style huh?"

"Totally, glad to see you guys can appreciate that."

"Well, part of the fighter pilot's job is looking cool," he agreed, mentally checking himself in his thoughts. "Second to warfighting boy, don't forget that."

"What are the other parts then?"

"Ah, the usual. Shouting, drinking, singing, causing havoc in the name of a good time," the pilot joked, eschewing the more serious parts of constant training and the ever-present threat of death.

"Oooh, sounds like you guys party hard. I don't know if Vale's ready for that."

"Funny you should mention, some of the guys are looking forward to a night on the town once everything is squared away. You know any good places they could go to hang out?"

"I actually do know this one club in town," she remembered. "Not really my style though, I had to knock a lot of guys out last time I was there. You might like it though."

"Nah it's just for the guys, I'm not much of a club-goer myself."

Yang shifted a bit, stretching out her arms and giving off a disappointed sigh that was mostly masked from the roar of another Eagle flying overhead. Still, she smiled back genuinely, keeping a look in her eye, a warm look that felt inviting. She wanted to keep pushing him just a little more, just to see how far he would go. It had been a long time since she had met a guy who was reserved but could still engage in banter.

"If you're looking for something less fancy, there's a dive bar I saw not too far from where we live. Looked ok, quiet little hole-in-the-wall, clean, doesn't show up on the news for constant robberies or anything," Yang mentioned, leaving out that it was also a watering hole for the rowdier of the Huntsmen team. "I like visiting every now and then."

Jackson felt an opportunity open up, at least he thought it was, and it was an opportunity for something he did not usually care for, but it was there. Something in his head told him to try and take it up, regardless of anything else; it was an opportunity and he was the kind of guy to act decisively and take it, though sometimes it would be pointless. He leaned his arm against the nose of the jet, mimicking Yang's stance and confidence.

"That sounds nice; think you'd mind grabbing a drink there? I'd like a local to join, make sure I don't get scammed or roofied or something," he asked before questioning himself. "Why'd I ask that? You know why you asked that!"

"Sounds like a fun night, sure!"

"Nice, did it. Did what? You fool. What's wrong with getting a date?"

"Awesome!" he agreed.

The rest of the conversation was spent over the details, getting the name of the bar, settling on tomorrow night, at a specific time to meet. After this, he helped Ruby down from the cockpit. Far from excited, she came down confused and somewhat dizzy. Staring at the mass of switches and buttons littered throughout the cockpit and trying to understand their meaning had been rather overwhelming for her.

"Well thank you again for showing us everything mister...," Ruby stopped, remembering, to her own chagrin, that she had never gotten his name.

In desperation she looked around for a sign, spying the nametag on his flight suit.

"Mister Saint!"

"Haha, nice try but that's just my nickname miss," he explained, tapping the winged nametag on his breast. "My name's Allen Jackson. Captain Allen Jackson."

"It was nice talking with you Allen," Yang mentioned.

"Same to you Miss Yang," he agreed. "First name basis already, girl?"

"Yeah, it was a great time Mister Jackson! I hope we can get to see it again! Oh, and you… of course… heh."

"I'm sure we'll get a chance eventually," the pilot agreed. "Oh, here let me give you a souvenir. We keep a few of these to hand out wherever we go."

He reached into his pocket and handed her a small, woolen patch, slightly larger than her hand.

"It's our squadron patch, like our team emblem, you know?"

"Oh, cool! Thank you Sir!"

"Alright Ruby, let's leave the poor flyboy alone," Yang said, finally wanting to drag her off the airport tarmac. "You have a good day dude."

"You too, ma'am."

The two headed off back across the ramp to leave and wrap up the day. He swore that he thought he saw the blonde blow a kiss in a half-mocking fashion. Either way, he went back to going over his aircraft one last time, just to have something to do. All in all he was very content; it had been a good flight on a good day, and beyond bringing a little joy to the locals, he scored a night out with a pretty good looking girl. Still, he was not here for that, he and the squadron were here with a specific mission, and it was not getting lucky in hook ups. Even without that, plenty of things precluded him from that quick, intense desire of the night, from his own beliefs to the moral duties of an officer. So then why did he agree?

"Eh, she's not serious, just the kind of girl that likes messing with guys for fun," he told himself. "And I like to have fun too. That's all."

Jackson eventually rejoined the rest of his squadron with the crowd dispersing. Ruby herself did not properly examine her new souvenir until she got home, looking over the patch in her room's light. The circle itself was topped by a bar with the words 415 FIGHTER SQ. as the identifier, with a circle of blue on the inside of the black border of the body itself. The background was a chess board, with a red king aimed at an upward angle, stylized to look like a missile with fins on its side, and a rocket's flame at the base, and a top hat sporting the colors of the country on its top. For a moment it gave her memories of her early days at Beacon, days that were years in the past, still fondly locked in her mind.

NOTE:

This story is mostly a writing experiment. The idea was conceived over the course of many 'what if' discussions over on 4chan's /rwby/ general thread over two-plus years. It's also my first real foray into writing non-fiction. I put it up on here for prudence and archival purposes. It's unlikely this story will continue beyond one-three other chapters; not sure how many people would be interested anyways.

Selected 'adventure' as a tag because nothing else seemed to fit.

Decided to be safe and go with the 'M' rating for language and violence. But that's the worst you'll see in the story.