Jaune stood across from Gray, his feet planted firmly on the sparring ground. His hands gripped Crocea Mors, sword in one, shield in the other, as he watched Gray twirl her staff with a casual ease that only someone seasoned in combat could muster. The air was tense, but not hostile—just focused.
Gray lunged forward, bringing her staff in a wide arc aimed at Jaune's knee. His reflexes, sharpened by months of grueling combat and training, kicked in. Jaune crouched lower, raising his shield to absorb the impact. The staff clanged off the metal surface, the force of the blow echoing through his arm but leaving no lasting effect.
Gray clicked her tongue in frustration. "You've gotten fast, Arc. Too fast for someone who's barely been fighting a year."
Jaune smirked, pivoting on his heel and launching a quick thrust with his sword, forcing Gray back. "Learned the hard way," he replied, moving with a fluidity that belied his bulky armor. "After Beacon… there was nothing else to do but train. No school. No future. Just a rifle, a sword, and the sands of Vacuo."
Gray parried the thrust, grunting as her staff deflected the strike. She tried to sweep Jaune's legs from under him, but he stepped back, keeping his stance light, just as he had been taught. Sgt. Brown's words echoed in his head like a mantra, lessons from basic training that were as much about endurance as they were about survival.
"Don't stand still. Keep moving. Don't hold a guard longer than you need to," Jaune recited to himself mentally. His footwork was deliberate, shifting left, then right, always adjusting, never letting Gray settle on an angle to attack.
"Stop dancing around and fight me head-on, Arc!" Gray shouted, her voice tinged with frustration. She swung again, a feint to the right before aiming a strike to his midsection.
Jaune turned, his shield coming up to meet the blow. Metal clashed against metal, but instead of pushing back, he twisted his body, creating an opening. He lunged forward with a sharp thrust of his sword, forcing Gray to backpedal.
"You're better at this than I thought," Gray grunted, her breathing a bit heavier now. "You should've made it into Beacon with these skills."
Jaune chuckled, stepping back to give her space. "I wasn't good enough then. Hell, I'm still more of a rifleman than a swordsman. My aim's crap half the time, though."
Gray scoffed. "Don't bullshit me. If you're this good with a sword, your aim's probably better than most. Besides…" She twirled her staff before slamming it into the ground with enough force to make a dent in the sparring floor. "...I'm getting pissed off that I can't land a single hit on you."
With a quick flick, she aimed for his side, a sharp kick following the strike. Jaune raised his arm, letting the brunt of the kick connect with his forearm as he leaned away from the staff. His shield hummed slightly from the force, but his balance remained firm.
Sgt. Brown's voice came to mind again: "Flow and find balance. Twist and lunge. Never stay static."
Jaune sidestepped, using his shield to conceal his next move, and thrust forward, aiming for her midsection. Gray blocked it, but he could feel her defenses faltering. His training had taught him the flow of combat wasn't about strength alone—it was about timing, movement, and rhythm.
His sword came down hard, but Gray twisted it away with her staff. "Damn, you're persistent!" she muttered, her breath heavy now. She swung again, this time at his neck, but Jaune's aura flared, and the blow barely phased him.
"That aura of yours… and that semblance," Gray growled, stepping back. "You're cheating, Arc."
Jaune lowered his sword slightly, his breathing even despite the intensity of the sparring. "Not cheating. Just a part of the game, sis"
His semblance—his true semblance wasn't what he had originally thought. Ever since unlocking his aura mid-combat during Ironwood Company's last stand, he believed his ability was aura regeneration, but after countless battles and near-death experiences, he realized that his semblance was something far more potent: amplification. Not just healing his aura, but boosting his strength, speed, and resilience. He could amplify others, too, though it came at the cost of his aura reserves.
He had learned that the hard way, especially when Gray had punched him with a Paladin at full strength to 'test' aura, only for him to shrug it off like it was nothing. After that, the commanding officers had ordered him to refine his semblance and hone his combat skills. Thus, sparring with Gray had become a regular part of his training. And that it was also to fight off the boredom and escape paperwork.
"Still feels like cheating," Gray said, shaking her head. She tapped the tip of her staff on the ground, leaning against it. "It's just too damn hard to land a hit on you when you're amped up like that."
"Sorry, but it's not like I can turn it off," Jaune replied, relaxing his stance. His muscles ached, and his aura reserves were starting to dwindle, but the training had been worth it.
"Yeah, well, I'm done for today," Gray announced, stretching her arms over her head. "You've got the basics down. You don't need me to keep beating you up. You'll figure out the rest on your own."
Jaune gave a small nod, appreciative of the training session. It wasn't much, but these drills kept him sharp. He knew he needed more practice. The sands of Vacuo had hardened him, made him stronger, but there was always more to learn.
Gray stepped back, tapping her staff against her shoulder. "You've got combat experience, Arc. Just keep training, and you'll be fine. You learn fast. Almost too fast, if I'm being honest."
Jaune sheathed Crocea Mors, letting out a small sigh of relief. "Guess I'm just lucky. Or unlucky, depending on how you look at it."
Gray shot him a sideways glance. "Yeah, you've got that 'unlucky' aura about you. Anyway, I'm out. See you later, Jaune."
As Gray walked off, Jaune remained in the sparring ground for a moment, staring at his shield and sword. He had come so far from that awkward kid who forged his way into Beacon. Back then, he had no clue what he was doing, but now? Now he could fight. He could protect his comrades, even if he wasn't officially a Huntsman and he spent more time in a Paladin rather than on foot..
Jaune swung his sword a few more times, practicing his form. His body flowed with the movements, his legs shifting easily as he struck the air. Walk, strike, change, repeat. The rhythm of combat was soothing in a way. It was the one thing that made sense in a world full of chaos.
Later that evening, Jaune sat in the barracks, reflecting on the day's training. His muscles ached, but it was a good ache, the kind that came from pushing yourself to the limit. As he unstrapped his armor and set it aside, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction.
It wasn't just about the fighting. It was about growth. Every fight, every sparring session, made him stronger. More than that, it made him feel like he belonged—like he was part of something bigger.
Suddenly, the door to the barracks opened, and Lt. Carson walked in, his expression unreadable.
"Arc, you busy?"
Jaune looked up, wiping sweat from his brow. "No, sir. Just finished training with Gray."
Carson nodded, stepping closer. "Good. I've been watching your progress. You're shaping up nicely."
"Thank you, sir," Jaune replied, standing at attention.
"At ease, Arc. I've got some news for you," Carson said, his tone shifting to something more serious. "There's talk that Steel Squadron might be getting reassigned soon. Nothing official yet, but it's in the air."
Jaune frowned slightly. "Reassigned where, sir?"
"Not sure. Could be Mistral, could be Vacuo again. Command's keeping things tight-lipped for now. But I want you to be ready, just in case."
Jaune nodded, his mind racing with possibilities. Reassignment could mean more combat, or it could mean more waiting. Either way, he needed to stay sharp.
"I'll be ready, sir," Jaune said confidently.
Carson gave a small nod of approval. "Good. Keep training, Arc. You're going to need every bit of it."
With that, Carson left the room, leaving Jaune to his thoughts. The prospect of reassignment didn't worry him as much as it might have a few months ago. He had been through enough to know that wherever they went, whatever the mission, he'd be ready.
As Jaune settled into his bunk for the night, he thought back to the words of Sgt. Brown. "Flow and find balance. In combat and in life, Arc. Keep moving, and you'll survive."
"I'll remember that, Sarge," Jaune muttered. "Always."
The midday sun bore down on the airstrip where Steel Squadron had gathered. Jaune, standing alongside Gray and Scarlet. He adjusted his helmet's optics, scanning the perimeter as Lt. Carson called them to attention The squadron's four heavily armed Paladins stood like sentinels behind Carson, their weapons gleaming under the sun's light.
Lt. Carson walked up and down the line, briefing them with the calm, authoritative voice Jaune had grown accustomed to.
"All right, listen up," Carson began, his hands clasped behind his back. "The White Fang, or what's left of them, are trying to negotiate with Atlas. They want to make amends, clean up their image after the mess Taurus and his radicals caused. They're claiming to be a new organization now. Our job? We're running security. Simple as that. We're not here to be political. Just keep eyes on the negotiator and ensure nothing goes south."
Jaune nodded, his mind racing as Carson spoke. The White Fang—the once-feared terrorist organization—was now extending an olive branch. It seemed surreal, especially after all the bloodshed they had caused. But things were changing, and Steel Squadron had to adapt.
"Sir, what exactly are they offering in these negotiations?" Gray asked, leaning on her Paladin. She had that skeptical look on her face, the kind she wore whenever she sensed something wasn't quite right.
"From what I understand," Carson replied, "they want to cooperate with the Kingdoms to restore their reputation as if we recognize them in the first place. But there's more to it. Vale and Atlas both have demands. Vale's demanding a list of the criminals responsible for the Fall of Beacon, and Atlas... well, we're asking for a couple of islands around Menagerie for 'strategic purposes.'"
There was a murmur among the squad. The idea of Atlas demanding territory didn't sit well with many of them, Jaune included. Menagerie had always been a symbol of Faunus independence, a refuge from the prejudice they faced in the larger kingdoms.
"Is it necessary to take land?" Jaune asked, glancing at Carson. "Seems like we're pushing it, sir."
Carson met Jaune's gaze with a shrug. "It's politics, Arc. Our job's not to question the demands, just to make sure the negotiator doesn't get his head blown off."
With the briefing over, Steel Squadron climbed aboard the Atlas airship and began their long journey across the sea. For hours, the rhythmic hum of the engines was the only sound that accompanied them. Jaune spent most of the flight in quiet contemplation, his mind running through different scenarios. Negotiations with the White Fang could go either way — peace or bloodshed. And after everything, he wasn't sure which outcome he was expecting or wanted.
The airship finally touched down on the shores of Menagerie, and the squad disembarked, falling into formation around the Atlas Negotiator. Ghira Belladonna, leader of Menagerie, stood waiting for them, his imposing frame casting a long shadow across the sandy ground. He was a man of few words, but his presence commanded respect. Jaune had heard about him — once the leader of the White Fang before it had become what it was under Adam Taurus. Ghira was the opposite of Taurus—measured, compassionate, and principled.
As Steel Squadron flanked the negotiator, their Paladins looming behind them, Jaune couldn't help but notice the tension in Ghira's eyes. He stood tall, but there was a weight on his shoulders, a heavy burden that came with trying to balance peace and his people's survival.
The negotiation took place in the open, with no walls or rooms to hide behind. The setting was symbolic — Menagerie had nothing to hide, or at least, that's what they wanted the world to believe.
The Atlas Negotiator was a sharp, angular man with cold eyes and was quick to lay out his demands. He was ruthless, unyielding. Jaune watched as the man rattled off a list of expectations. Vale demanded accountability, a complete list of the White Fang members who had aided in the attack on Beacon. Atlas, on the other hand, demanded territory—several small islands around Menagerie for "strategic reasons." It was clear that the negotiator wasn't here to make friends; he was here to get what Atlas wanted.
Ghira, for his part, was patient, but Jaune could see the flickers of frustration in his eyes as the demands piled up. The former White Fang leader pushed back, especially when it came to the territory. Menagerie had little enough space as it was, and giving up land—no matter how small—was a painful ask.
"This is too much," Ghira said, his voice steady but filled with resolve. "We want peace, but not at the cost of our people's land. Menagerie has suffered enough."
The negotiator's expression remained unchanged. "The situation is precarious, Belladonna. You understand how delicate the balance is. The world saw what happened with your organization. Trust is a fragile thing. Atlas is offering you stability. Don't squander it."
Jaune's fists clenched at the cold tone. He could see Ghira's internal struggle, the conflict between his desire to protect his people and the harsh reality of their situation.
After a long moment of silence, Ghira finally nodded, the weight of the decision visible in the set of his shoulders. "Very well. I will accept the terms. But know this—Menagerie will not be pushed around forever."
As the negotiation came to a close, a new urgency crackled over the comms.
"All units, be advised. Argus is under attack. Adam Taurus has been spotted."
Jaune's heart skipped a beat at the name. Adam Taurus—the man responsible for so much death and destruction—was back. Ghira's face paled slightly at the news, and the Atlas Negotiator shook his head.
"This complicates things," the negotiator muttered, his voice clipped.
Ghira looked torn, his eyes darting between the negotiator and the message from Argus. "I knew this would come back to haunt us…"
Command came through Steel Squadron's earpieces, directing them to prepare for immediate deployment to Argus. There was no time to waste. Adam Taurus had resurfaced, and Atlas needed every hand on deck to deal with the threat.
"Steel Squadron, we're leaving," Carson barked. "Prep for immediate takeoff. We'll deal with this."
The flight to Argus was tense. Jaune felt the weight of the mission ahead settling over the squad like a dark cloud. Adam Taurus wasn't just a terrorist—he was a Huntsman, and a dangerous one at that. Steel Squadron had faced tough enemies before, but Adam was something else entirely.
Scarlet, sitting across from Jaune, had a grim look on her face. "Taurus. The bastard's like a damn ghost. How long do we have to wait to this guy to appear so we can shoot him?"
Jaune nodded. "He's dangerous. We can't underestimate him."
Gray, who had been quiet for most of the flight, finally spoke up. "If Taurus is in Argus, it's not just about the White Fang anymore. This is personal for him. He's targeting Atlas. He's targeting us."
Carson, standing near the cockpit, looked back at his team. "Listen up, Steels. We're walking into a shitstorm. Command wants us to secure Argus and hunt down Taurus, but I'm not going to lie to you—this is going to be tough. Taurus isn't like the extremists we've been fighting. He's trained, he's ruthless, and he's not going to back down."
Jaune tightened the straps on his armor. The stakes had never felt higher. The White Fang was splintered, but Adam Taurus represented the worst of them. If they didn't stop him here, the consequences could be catastrophic.
The airship rumbled as they approached Argus. Through the small window, Jaune could see the city on the horizon, its tall buildings and familiar military presence dwarfed by the dark clouds gathering overhead. The city was already under siege, and the battle was far from over.
"We drop in five," Carson called out. "Stay sharp, people. We've got work to do."
The airship's side doors hissed open, and the members of Steel Squadron braced themselves as the wind from the open sky whipped around their Paladins. Below, the city of Argus lay in chaos — overturned vehicles, Grimm running rampant, and streets that were once bustling now eerily silent except for the occasional roar of a Beowolf or the crackle of nearby fires.
They were hovering over the southern edge of Argus, where the massive stone wall that usually guarded the city was cracked and broken in multiple places. The Colossus, Argus' mechanical giant that had once been the city's proudest defense, was down, its colossal frame mangled and crumpled like a discarded toy. Whatever force had brought it down must have been unimaginable.
"Look at that thing," Gray muttered into the comms, her eyes scanning the wreckage below. "Who the hell brings down a Colossus like that?"
"Doesn't matter anymore," Carson replied. "We've got to sweep the streets before more of these Grimm flood in."
Jaune stood by, holding the controls of his paladin, staring at the city below. Argus was a critical point for Atlas, the last stronghold before reaching Atlas itself. If they lost Argus, the implications could be catastrophic. But even more pressing was the fact that Adam Taurus had been spotted, and that made Jaune uneasy.
"Let's go!" Carson shouted over the wind.
The moment Jaune's Paladin hit the ground, the chaos of Argus enveloped him. Grimm roamed the streets, tearing through what little resistance remained from the local militia. He prepped his chain guns , his body tensing at the sight of a group of Beowolves ripping apart an overturned vehicle.
"Arc, Gray, sweep left. Scarlet with me. Let's move!" Carson barked orders into the comms as the team split up, each moving toward their assigned positions.
Jaune slid down the cobblestone streets, dodging debris and making his way to the edge of the square, where he saw more Grimm gathering. Gray followed closely behind, her Paladin boosters engaged as she skated down the road, her cannons already locking onto targets.
Jaune aimed his 36mm chain guns, pulling the trigger with precision. Every shot counted. Beowolves dropped one after another, their bodies disintegrating into black smoke as his bullets found their mark. Gray followed up, her 36mm chain guns spitting out rounds as she tore through the larger Grimm that Jaune hadn't finished off.
"Clear!" Jaune shouted as the last of the Grimm in their section fell.
They moved forward, checking the perimeter. Streetcars were overturned, windows shattered, and the once-bustling streets of Argus looked like a warzone. The sight of the petrified Leviathan in the harbor didn't help — its massive, dead form loomed over the bay like a reminder of the destruction that had already occurred.
"I wonder if we can get ourselves a Colossus," Gray mused, her eyes catching sight of the fallen mechanical giant in the distance.
Carson's voice came through the comms, flat and unamused. "Too big. Too slow. The Paladin's just fine."
Jaune smirked at that, even as he kept his guard up. They may have had firepower, but even the best machines couldn't stop the Grimm if they let their guard down. The team pressed forward, sweeping through the southern streets of Argus, taking down every Grimm that crossed their path.
Hours passed, and the chaos showed no signs of slowing. The city's defensive walls were damaged, but the engineers were hard at work reinforcing them. As the walls went up, Steel Squadron found themselves tasked with holding the perimeter, taking down swathes of Grimm as they poured in from the wilderness surrounding Argus.
Airships circled overhead, providing aerial support as Jaune and his team emptied their chain guns and 120mm ordinance into the hordes of Grimm.
Jaune had seen so many Grimm before. The horizon was a black sea of monsters, their red eyes glowing with hatred. He had to wonder — how many more would come? Was there an end to them? If not for the defenses of Argus, he wasn't sure how long they could have lasted.
"How many left on your side?" Gray's voice came through Jaune's helmet, her Paladin standing close to his.
"Too many to count," Jaune replied, his voice strained. He had been firing for hours now, the recoil of his weapons starting to wear him down, but he wasn't about to stop. Not yet. Not until the Grimm was gone.
By the time the next morning came, the team had cleared their sector, leaving only the remnants of their battle strewn across the streets. Bodies of Grimm — what little remained of them had dissolved into the air, leaving nothing behind but the faint smell of ash and blood. Not from Grimm, but from the civilians that had been torn apart.
They regrouped outside the city walls, weary but alive.
Scarlet was fuming, her face twisted with frustration. "We missed Taurus. We could've had him."
Before Jaune could respond, a report crackled through the comms. Adam Taurus had been found. His body was floating in the basin of a waterfall outside of Argus. Stabbed to death.
"Good riddance," Carson said, but his tone was cautious. "Still, it's odd that a Huntsman like him could be taken out like that. Something isn't adding up."
Gray crossed her arms. "What about that Cordovin? The Colossus wasn't disabled by Grimm clearly. Must have been a Huntsman's Semblance, like some magnet or telekinesis or something like that. That thing was fighting a group of Huntsmen. It's a miracle that she managed to actually let the damn mech function to perform a killing blow at Leviathan. "
Carson shook his head. "We don't have enough information to make any accusations, and frankly, I'm not looking to. Our orders are to clean up this mess, and that's what we're doing."
The squad was quiet for a moment, the weight of everything they'd been through settling over them.
"But isn't it their fault the Grimm attacked?" Gray finally asked, her voice low.
Carson frowned. "Maybe. But we don't have enough information to point fingers. Let's just focus on securing the city and making sure there aren't any Grimm still lurking around."
They returned to the city for a final sweep, ensuring that every last Grimm had been wiped out. Jaune was exhausted, his body aching from the constant fighting, but his mind was still sharp. He couldn't stop thinking about Adam Taurus — about how easily it had all ended. For a man who had caused so much destruction, so much pain, it felt almost anticlimactic. He had heard about the man's skill… but he was dead just like that.
But there was no time to dwell on it. There was still Grimm to kill, still people to protect.
Jaune made his way through the city streets, his Paladin skating effortlessly over the uneven cobblestones as his boosters propelled him forward.
It was always cleanup duty for them.
Vale... Mistral... and now Argus.
Jaune had a feeling like he was just following behind a group of people's utter mess.
The days following the cleanup in Argus felt strange to Jaune. After the chaos of fighting the Grimm, the city slowly returning to life was surreal. Civilians cautiously emerged from their homes, businesses reopened, and repairs to the walls continued around the clock. The once-chaotic streets of Argus, littered with corpses and overturned vehicles, were starting to resemble a peaceful city again
With their mission completed and the city secure, Steel Squadron had been granted a few days of leave before they were to be redeployed. For Jaune, this meant visiting his sister Saphron and her wife Terra.
He hadn't seen Saphron in ages, and he hadn't realized just how much he had missed her until he stepped through the door of their home and was greeted with her bone-crushing hug.
"Jaune!" Saphron exclaimed, her arms squeezing the life out of him. "I can't believe you're here! Terra, come look! Our baby brother is here!"
Jaune chuckled, though a little pained from the tight grip. "Saphron, please. I'm not a baby anymore."
"Yeah, well, you'll always be my baby brother," she said, finally letting him go and stepping back to examine him. Her eyes flickered over his Atlas uniform, and she frowned. "Though I wish you didn't have to wear that uniform."
Before Jaune could reply, Terra appeared, carrying their son, Adrian, who was gleefully kicking his feet. "Jaune!" she said with a wide smile, setting Adrian down before hugging him. "We heard you were stationed somewhere else after you joined the Army. I didn't think we'd get the chance to see you."
"Yeah, well, things have been... hectic," Jaune said, scratching the back of his head. "But I'm glad I got to stop by. How are you all holding up?"
Terra sighed. "We were lucky to get out of the city when the Grimm hit. The evacuation plan was efficient, and Saphron was on top of things, as always." She shot her wife a proud look.
Saphron nudged her. "Well, I wasn't going to just sit around and let things happen. But I was worried about you, Jaune. Being out there, fighting... I know you're tough, but still—"
"I'm fine," Jaune said, cutting her off with a smile. "Really. I've been through worse. And I've got a good team watching my back."
Saphron's expression softened. "I know you do. But that won't stop me from worrying about you. You know that, right?"
Jaune nodded. "I know. But I'm okay. Promise."
They spent the afternoon catching up, with Saphron regaling him with stories of life in Argus and Adrian's antics. It was peaceful almost normal and for the first time in a long time, Jaune felt like he could breathe.
After visiting Saphron and Terra, Jaune found himself wandering the city alone. Argus was rebuilding, slowly but surely, but the scars of the recent battles were still visible everywhere he looked. Buildings still bore the marks of Grimm attacks, and there was an uneasy tension in the air, as if the people were holding their breath, waiting for the next disaster.
The reality of battle was that there's always people who were going to clean after the mess had been made while the 'heroes' fuck off.
He eventually found himself in a park, strangely untouched, where a statue stood in the center, its bronze figure gleaming under the afternoon sun. It depicted a boy, no older than Jaune himself, holding a bow and arrow, his expression determined and full of valor.
Jaune approached the statue, his gaze falling on the plaque at its base.
"In Honor of Apollo," it read. "A student of Beacon Academy, who fought valiantly and gave his life during the Fall of Beacon."
Jaune stared at the statue for a long moment. Another reminder of how many lives were lost in the Fall of Beacon. Another name to add to the growing list of those who had fought, and died, for something greater than themselves.
"Apollo, huh?" Jaune muttered, his voice low. He gave the statue one last glance before turning away, leaving the park behind him.
Later that evening, Jaune's scroll buzzed with a message from Carson.
"Good news," Carson's voice crackled through the call. "Argus is clear for now, and we're heading back to Atlas. Gather your things."
Jaune sighed in relief. As much as he had enjoyed seeing Saphron and Terra, he was ready to leave Argus behind. The memories of the battle and the constant reminders of the Grimm attack weighed heavily on him.
"Finally," Jaune muttered.
Carson's voice continued, "Also, Command's decided the White Fang negotiations in Menagerie aren't our mission anymore. That's for someone else to deal with. So, at least we won't have to worry about that."
Scarlet's voice chimed in over the comms, sounding a little too happy. "Does that mean we get to actually rest when we get back to Atlas?"
Carson laughed. "That's the plan. You've all worked hard, been pulled in so many directions. Maybe once we're back, we'll get some time off. Don't hold your breath, though."
Jaune could hear the groans and half-hearted chuckles from Gray and Scarlet. They had all been through a lot, and even though the idea of a day off sounded nice, none of them seemed too enthusiastic.
After three more days in Argus, Steel Squadron finally boarded an airship bound for Atlas. Jaune found himself staring out of the window as the city of Argus grew smaller beneath them, his thoughts swirling with memories of the battles they had fought, the people they had saved, and the ones they had lost.
For now, all he could hope for was a moment of peace. A chance to rest before the next mission.
Back in Atlas, the air was cold, and the snow-capped mountains loomed in the distance as the airship touched down on the landing pad. The city was just as bustling as ever, but there was a sense of urgency in the air. Atlas was on high alert, with soldiers and machines patrolling the streets, their presence a constant reminder of the tensions that simmered beneath the surface.
As soon as they disembarked, Carson gathered the squad for a quick debrief.
"Welcome back to Atlas," Carson said, his voice carrying over the hum of machinery and the distant chatter of soldiers. "For now, we're on standby, but don't get too comfortable. We don't know when the next mission will come."
Scarlet groaned, her shoulders slumping. "I thought you said we might get some time off?"
Carson gave her a dry look. "I said 'maybe.' Don't start dreaming just yet."
Jaune chuckled softly, though his body ached for rest. He wasn't sure how long they'd have before they were called back into action, but for now, just being in Atlas was a relief.
Gray, who had been quiet most of the flight, nudged Jaune with her elbow. "So, what's the first thing you're gonna do when you get some free time?"
Jaune shrugged. "Honestly? Probably sleep. A lot. "
Gray grinned. "Sounds like a solid plan. I'm going to visit my ma and pa. After that?"
"Then make some calls and house visits," Jaune said quietly.
"House visits?" Scarlet, who walked over, asked.
"I... volunteered to tell some people," Jaune said. "About what happened to Ironwood Company."
"Oh, I see," Scarlet nodded, not pressing Jaune further.
A few days passed in Atlas without incident.
Steel Squadron remained on standby, their Paladins undergoing maintenance and repairs while they waited for their next orders.
Jaune took the opportunity to visit the CCT, to make a call. His parents were surprised that he hadn't given up and returned home. Surprisingly, his father, on the other hand, was proud while his mother was worried about him getting shot.
Ending the call, he returned to the base he was stationed in and readied himself for a task that he had been bracing for months.
Informing the people that Ironwood Company had left behind about their beloved's valiant sacrifices.
It was his duty as the one left behind.