Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to my first foray into releasing a written work in over a decade. I despise long Author's notes so this will be brief.
This is primarily an exercise to knock the rust off of my writing, and for fun. I am super down to listen to any constructive criticism, and in fact welcome it. Is anything perfect? HA! No.
Some items that my tick some people off. This is definite AU flavorings, you'll get what I mean pretty early on. I love the world and works of RWBY, but what is a sandbox if you stay inside the lines eh? Some moments WILL be OOC, maybe because I just can't get the character right, maybe because something different happened that is influencing their actions, who knows? At this point, certainly not me.
SO without further ado, please enjoy. Let me know if you want more, or don't and just lurk. Either is fine with me! Ciao Bella!
A stone wall oppressed the view out of the window. A colossal thing of gray concrete and weathered metal, standing in defiance of nature in both resilience and appearance, casting its shadow over a small cluster of buildings pocketed near the intersection of the only paved road and the constructed horizon. The gate is the only reprieve from the eyesore of an ever-repeating pattern of concrete slabs and pillars of patinaed steel. The apex of the gate barely peeked over the tops of the surrounding buildings, though the bright number four above provided an unmistakable marker. Just outside a ring of brutalist architecture and military checkpoints stood a secondary orbit of commercial buildings. Diners, hotels, tattoo parlors, bars, whatever the underpaid and overworked enlisted might need or want as they stand the watch upon the walls of their not quite-gilded cage.
Drawing a line perpendicularly from the gate, the main drag of the military complex provided a direct line of travel to those daring to traverse the portal through the wall, as well as a mostly unobstructed field of view from a diner not quite so classy as to be called a hole in the wall, and more liable to appear in the papers as the origin of a terrible fire than for its food… in any positive way at least.
"Remind me why we are eating here instead of, oh, I don't know, somewhere with more than just one review online? Or maybe NOT all the way out by the wall? Maybe even somewhere that isn't obviously bribing the health inspector to stay in business? I know we were supposed to be out here this afternoon, but we had plenty of time to get actual food before flying out here."
"Because Weiss-icle, this is primo Valean cuisine right here! Plus, our uncle said this was one of the best breakfast spots outside the agrarian zone. Sure, it may look a bit crusty, but that is just a part of the charm. Back me up here, Rubes… Rubes?... Yo! Ruby!"
Gray eyes blinked, caught in their reflection in the window. Then blinked again, the spark of conscious thought flickering back, along with the spark of life giving a silvery sheen to the grays that were once synonymous with the walls they had been boring through. They widened as their bearer realized that a response was required.
"Wha-? Whatever Yang said is wrong; I didn't do it; it was all her, I swear!... What were we talking about?" Her response fluttered out in pace with an anxious heartbeat, dealing the casual betrayal with the practice only a sibling could have.
"See! Wait, what? Get over here, you little rat!" A blur of blonde hair and brown leather jacket snatches Ruby from across the table, dragging her to the other side of the booth. One arm holding her face against an ample chest, the other painted yellow and black digging into Ruby's scalp. "No loyalty! None!"
"CAN'T BREATHE! BOOBS TOO BIG!"
"Sounds like a personal issue Rubaby! Or jealousy, maybe?"
"Not when they are bigger than my head! You cow!"
As the struggle continued, it encroached into the space of the fourth member of their team. Ever laconic, she maintained her silence as she swapped sides of the booth, all too used to the current chaos. Her pitch-colored hair contrasted with the platinum of her new neighbor as she slipped in, nursing her tea as she observed two sisters in their natural state. The gentle smirk betrayed her amusement as Ruby finally freed herself from Yang's hold.
"I still think it's both cheating and gross that you got a vibration function for your arm." Ruby growls, digging an elbow below Yang's ribs.
"I couldn't miss out on the number of jokes it sets up," Yang chuckled, shoving Ruby's head away, then winked at the black-haired member of their quartette. "Plus, I didn't hear any complaints from Blake. FFFUUuu-."
Amusement turned to annoyance as Blake broke her silence, and her foot retreated from Yang's shin, "I told you to stop making jokes about that! The rumors were bad enough without you feeding into them."
"But you were a thing for, like, almost a year, though. I thought it was cute!" Ruby chimed in.
Amber eyes narrowed at Ruby, "It was an experiment, and we both knew that going in. I don't nee-"
"Enough!" Weiss interjected sternly, "Can we not make a scene for three consecutive minutes?"
"Puh-lease Wiess-cream, it's not like you didn't have the hots for Rubes in our second year."
"Guhk… I-I DID NOT! I have NO idea wha-"
"I kid, I kid. I'm the only one who knows how to have fun around here, I got it." Yang faux-despaired as Weiss tried to recover from choking on her coffee.
Ruby's sibling senses tingled, "Actually, Blake was your first time getting past kissing, wasn't it? I remember you panicking about it after your second or third dat-"
Yang dragged Ruby back into, what one could charitably call a hug. "Aww Ruby, you're adorable when you're lying! Makes me want to just squeeze all the falsehoods out of you!"
A pair of long-suffering sighs sound out from the other side of the booth. Weiss looks at Blake. Blake looks at Weiss. They clink cups and bury their faint amusement in their drinks, refusing to let the sisters know of their enjoyment lest it encourage their antics.
Though they were boisterous in the extreme, the other diner-goers paid little attention to the ruckus, the aura of comfortable chaos putting any concerns to rest. Especially when combined with the weaponry stashed in the rarely used racks beside the door. Hunters were always odd folk.
And then the world froze. In a fraction of a second, the peace-in-motion of the pseudo-village around the military base shattered into unbelieving stillness: the culprit, the unmistakable crack-crack-crack of an autocannon stuttering from atop the wall. Life within the diner only restarted after a different crack, the sound of porcelain breaking upon the linoleum flooring. The waitress jarred into action and began to guide the patron into the tunnels below the town, the hatch the best-maintained thing in the establishment. As the last one down into the tunnels leading to the raid shelter, she glimpsed around the dining area and into the parking lot to see if anyone was running towards their entrance. She only saw the fluttering of red, white, black, and yellow as the young huntresses ran towards the sounds of danger. A brief prayer to the Brothers was lost as more and more cannon fire joined into the burgeoning opera of gunpowder and spite.
"Weapons checks," Ruby called, her silver graying slightly. Exuberance and youth shift into a hard-earned calm during a crisis. Maneuvering her monstrous creation into its fighting configuration. The odd rectangular rifle lets out a cacophony of clicks and snaps, heralding precision machinery as it unfolds into a scythe of nearly unusable proportions, magazine and charging handle belying its ability to engage at range: "Crescent Rose: three mags APers, one mag HVAP, one mag API."
"Myrtenaster: half full on gravity dust, full load on the rest. Spare canister of burn dust and earth dust on hand, plenty more in my rocket locker." Wiess ran with her rapier in one hand and her scroll in the other, watching for any alerts and calculating the time to impact for their resupply if needed. "Its five minutes minimum for our lockers to get here, so if we we should call them in early."
"Gambol Shroud: three mags APers, three mags AP. Have enough freeze and earth dust for a couple of clones each." Blake called out, feline ears twitching with each burst of munitions from the wall and the faint sounds of offset detonations. "The wall is only opening up with time-fused rounds, maybe proxy, and I don't hear anything bigger than 40mm. Best guess is arial grimm only."
"Ember Celica: two belts buck and incen loaded, two more ready. Two belts of slug, and two belts of flechette on hand. Arm's fully loaded, no spares." Twin Cestus snap into place around Yang's fists, crimson shells arrayed on belts around the wrists feeding into the embedded shotguns, matching crimson embers floated in the normally lilac eyes, teasing turned to well-disciplined rage. "Here comes the checkpoint, they should have it open by the time we get there."
The guards at the entry control point did not open the gate, instead a call rang out from the PA system.
"Inbound personnel, halt and be identified!"
"What the heck are these guys doing? H-Hey! We're provisional Huntresses! Let us in so we can help if needed!" Called Ruby, sliding to a stop as her team shuffled to avoid colliding with her.
"All personnel must be V-IDed prior to entering Valean military grounds, no exceptions. Lower your arms or be fired upon."
"Somethings about to get dropped, that's for sure," Yang growled, crimson embers flaring with her temper. Blonde locks slowly waving in a breeze unfelt.
"Yang, stand down. Everyone stand down. They're just doing their jobs." Weiss and Blake made a show of holstering their weapons, while Yang took decidedly longer to comply with Ruby's command.
A minute passed in tense silence.
"Stupid godsdamned software taking forever. Stupid fuckin' Atlas hacker bullshit. Stupid motherfu-."
"Sarn't you're hot-micing."
"Stupid piece of shit PA system too… Open the gates; they're cleared. Apologies, Huntresses."
"Army stiffs," Yang murmured, with Blake humming in agreement. The team jogged through the checkpoint as soon as the soldiers lowered their arms. Weiss and Ruby nodded in recognition, Yang sent annoyed glares at anyone who met her gaze, and Blake studiously ignored all of them.
As they passed through into the base, they were swept up in a tide of uniformed bodies. Some moved towards the elevators ferrying munitions up to the gun emplacements on the top of the wall, some moved towards the ammo storage point to grab even more munitions, and a select few moved towards the ammunition conveyers that were pointedly not working as they should. As they maneuvered through the well-organized chaos, they kept their eyes peeled for the shining rank insignias that denoted officers.
After a minute of searching, surfing through the crowd, trying not to impede anyone's movement, they spotted a small break in the tides of people. With a destination in sight, they could push through the current purposefully, avoiding anyone carrying a load, and forced their way into the circle surrounding three individuals, one of which bore the vertical silver bars of a Captain.
"-nd communications with the rest of the convoy have been cut off. Get a recce crew out there to start sniffing for survivors and IDing any major threats; I want at least two patrols out within the hour. Call up the ranger det to lead the SAR efforts; I don't care whose balls I need to fondle to get them moving before getting a written tasker; get them moving soonest. Who the hell let civvies into…" The captain stopped, assessed team RWBY for a second, and then turned back to the staff non-commissioned officer he had been speaking to. "Radio out that we will have a Hunter team-" Weiss cleared her throat; the captain sighed, "HUNTRESS team as a part of the SAR crew. I'll get them spooled up, then put out SPIns for the men. Get that out, then find me a radio that isn't FUBAR, please, and thank you. Ladies, if you would please follow me, we can have our discussion somewhere a bit quieter." He turned and walked towards the only two-story building in the area, parting the flood of moving bodies like a cruiser through waves, leaving only the smallest of wakes for team RWBY to follow in hurriedly.
Once within the building, more bunker than anything else, the captain led them to a conference room only one door past the duty post within the now-identified headquarters building. Once he had ushered in the team, he seemed to deflate slightly before straightening and walking towards the head of the long table. He tossed his camouflaged cap onto the polished surface before saying, "If you want any refreshments, you'll have to do with lukewarm water from the last meeting we had in here or instant coffee that will make licking the bottom of your boots…" a glance down "… or heels, I guess, seem like a better idea if only it would provide caffeine. No? Good, we have zero time to waste. I need to get back out there, and you don't want to deal with military bureaucracy any more than I do.
"The situation is as follows: As of approximately noon yesterday, we were tracking a civilian convoy in route carrying survivors of a failed colony. At approximately 1400 hours, we lost radio contact with the convoy. This did not raise alarms as it is common with settler convoys, especially independents with outdated tech. At approximately 1600 hours, our comms guys mentioned that the convoy was using current-gen encryption, which requires primarily modern equipment that should not have lost connection as it did. This was warning flag one. In light of this discovery, the base commander, LtCol Caske authorized a reconnaissance flight along the primary ingress routes to Gate Four. Our recce birds saw nothing, not even tracks. Warning flag two. As of 0700 this morning, our lookouts spotted smoke on the horizon. Warning flag three. LtCol Caske authorized a CAP flight out to the smoke. CAP IDed the remains of what we assume to be the survivors' convoy and their overflight. Both air and ground assets were being assaulted by grimm. Both birds in the CAP flight maneuvered in to provide support but were overwhelmed by nevermore and forced to fall back. We have flown two sorties since to assist from a stand-off distance, which has proven enough to get the convoy within effective range of our air defense emplacements. We will be unable to destroy the flyers harassing their airship completely; I don't want to send shrapnel into the friendly while it's still flying. I have no idea how it is still in the air when it has more feathers embedded into it than some nevermore I've seen, but since it is in the air, we can only assume the pilot is still mission-capable. The latest reports on the ground indicate that there is only one vehicle that it was using an auto-drive function, but has broken down about half a mile outside of the walls. I would agree with this assessment seeing as the entire cab and passenger compartment of the vehicle is peeled open like a tin can. With no groundside threats in visual range, it is assumed that there are no survivors, but it is also safe enough to check. That is where your team will come in. We are currently undermanned and under-equipped, even for something as small as this. The council has decided that we don't need to garrison all five gates to Vale, and are shifting all assets to the odd gates within the next week. We started moving out about a month ago. We requested assistance from Beacon the day we started scaling down watch-standers, and you are the first team we have seen since. So now that you are here, and assuming that you are here to provide us assistance with this despite it not being in your tasking, I would ask that you run an outer cordon of the wrecked ground vehicle focusing on eliminating major threats, specifically any majors that might show up and any heavily armored targets of opportunity. We will provide you with our radio frequencies so that we can call out any targets that might slip your net. If you want to go above and beyond, feel free to do so, but understand that you are all we have in terms of mobile anti-armor capabilities. I want to offer you the use of our munitions depot. However, everything newer than the Great War has already been shifted from this location. If you can find anything of use in there, run it past our ammo techs first so they can at least keep a tally. Any questions?"
"Chain of command?" inquired Ruby, glancing back at the rest of her team, asking for input with a glance.
"You will be side-chained in. No direct command power, but seeing as you are the SMEs on grimm, anyone who doesn't listen to you regarding this deserves what they get. I will personally ensure that all SLs know to take your recommendations as gospel, barring anything critical. You will report direct to me as the most senior officer on station, seeing as LtCol Caske went with the first few trucks to gate five. All approvals at his level have too much turnaround time for this tight of a situation. I will be assuming all risk in this operation."
"How are you dealing with the flyers?" Weiss asked, respect starting to peek through her signature icy facade, "Will that airship be able to land safely?"
"Once it comes close enough to the wall, we will begin engaging with small arms. There will still be some risk to the pilot and any remaining crew or passengers, but it's much better odds than hoping our 40s don't turn them into sieves."
"When do we leave?" Yang grumbled, trying and failing not to fidget with Ember Celica.
"You can leave whenever you wish, though I recommend waiting until we tie you into our comms. That will take 10 minutes max. You will be the lead element, so you will be advancing into contact regardless. The SAR team will follow behind you as soon as possible; best guess? 15 minutes. Any further questions?... Fantastic. Thank you, ladies, for your support; I know my guys will be much more comfortable with you cutting the head off the snake. Ah, where are my manners? I am Captain De Rais. Callsign Spike 1 if you need to get a hold of me over the radio… as soon as Staff Sergeant Kings gets me a working radio, that is."
Taking the dismissal for what it was, team RWBY nodded and filed out of the conference room only to nearly run into the same Staff NCO from earlier, a closer look showing his name tape to say Kings.
"Pardon me, ladies, I will help you out with comms in a second; let me get the cap set up." Kings said as he walked through their group and into the conference room.
Feeling distinctly in the way, RWBY moved to the side of the hallway. Feeling the brief break in what felt like a flood of information and directions, Ruby turned to her team.
"Thoughts?" She prompted.
All four looked at each other, then back to Ruby.
"I've never really liked working with the military, but at least they don't seem to be jerking us around or treating us like kids; heck, some of the soldiers walking around here are younger than us," Yang said, still tense and fidgeting. "It feels like they expect us to know more than we do, though. I didn't even know what questions to ask that captain guy; it was too much too quickly."
"My sister gets like that sometimes, usually when stress levels rise, or she is in the middle of something for the Specialists, especially now during an active operation they don't have the time or mental capacity to translate to civilian vernacular," Weiss mentioned distractedly, looking intently at her scroll, "thought so, Caske and De Rais both sounded familiar. They are both on the list of liaisons in the mission briefing from Beacon. We would have been working with the captain regardless of the situation. It seems like he is particularly out of his depth; he is supposed to be a logistics officer, according to his command biography."
Yang raised an eyebrow, "Weiss-cream, I really don't think you have a grasp on the average person's vocabulary in normal conversations… Vernacular? Really?"
Blake chuckled with Ruby and Yang, "He seems to be doing well for someone not fully trained for this situation. Most organizations I have seen don't cross-train their logisticians with their combat elements." She ignored the derisive snort from Weiss, "Either Vale has stepped up their training, or the captain is more than he is letting on."
"Or… just maybe, he works well under pressure," Yang smirked at Blake, "Not everyone has a hidden double life, ya conspiracy cat."
Blake chuffed and smacked Yang's shoulder while Ruby and Weiss failed at hiding their laughter. They pulled themselves together as the conference room opened back up, letting Kings back out into the hallway and giving the team a glance at De Rais sitting in one of the heavily padded chairs, massaging his temples and writing on a pad of paper as his radio squawked.
"Alright, ladies, let's get you wired in and out the door so we can put a lid on this shit show." He cleared his throat as he led them back out into the planned mess of the outdoors, "And uh, I'll just go ahead and apologize now for any, not so polite language you might hear. Safe to say that our PR training is the first thing to fail in these situations."
"No worries. Ruby here isn't a fan, but she's all 'mission mode' right now, so it won't bother her," Yang said, rolling her shoulders. "The princess here might mind, though, and she's, like, owns people kind of rich, so you might need to watch your back there."
"Sorry to say that I am property of the Valean government for the next six years at a minimum," Kings snorted, "Any and all purchase requests have to go through them, though I might try and get you a discount if you're any better of a boss."
"Pretty cavalier about selling yourself to a Schnee," Blake's gaze drifted over Kings searchingly.
"Eh, like I said. Being in the military, you might as well have sold yourself. Can't really complain though, job's not bad once you get used to it. Guaranteed paycheck, room, and board. Not everyone gets that." Kings shrugged, "Anyways, here's the comm hut. Don't worry if they get a bit weird; they don't talk to women much."
"I heard that Kings, ya shit," A voice poured out of the building in front of them, one of the few that didn't have people streaming in and out regularly. "I'll have you know that I pull twice the pu-… oh shit, you actually brought women here." A scrawny man, too tall for his frame and too narrow at the shoulders, came lurching out of the darker interior. He shook his head and resumed his glare at Kings, "You pick up staff for less than a month, and you already need an ego check. Shit, y'all are probably here to get linked into comms; gimme a sec." He turned and folded himself back into the doorway.
Kings laughed to himself and turned to RWBY, "That's Sergeant Mycoff, goofy lookin' dude for sure, but I've yet to see anyone outshoot him, and he is damn good at his job. Should've picked up Staff before me, but he got himself into a bit of trouble when we were all Sergeants together… took the heat for some shit that would have gotten a lot of us in trouble."
RWBY exchanged glances and shrugs as they waited for the Sergeant to return. Mycoff returned with a few cards in hand less than a minute later.
"Aight' y'all got Beacon spec scrolls, yeah? Neat, these cards have a one-use crypto key loaded; just put them up against the back, yeah, like that. Now, you should already be on the frequency. Now, the issue with this method is if you get knocked off the freq for whatever reason, ya ain't gonna be able to get back onto comms. So don't do that. Y'all got earpieces? Shit, better than ours. How about you? You got some of them faunus-specific ones?"
Blake shook her head, "Are they better than the standard ones?"
"Nah, not really. Just lets you choose which set of ears you want to use 'em in. Here, we got tons of 'em cause everyone uses the standard ones. Never know when they might come in handy, though." Mycoff looked at his watch, "Shit, y'all better scoot; step off is comin' up quick." Without waiting for a response, he strode back to his kingdom, ducking slightly at the door.
"Like I said, odd. Right though, we need to get moving, you need anything ordinance-wise?"
"We should be good," Yang shrugged, "You going out with us?" she asked as they began to move towards the wall gate.
Kings laughed, "I wish, man. It beats doing all the admin work while the juniors get to have all the fun. My trigger-pulling days are mostly behind me, much to my chagrin. If I gotta shoot something, many, many things have gone very wrong."
They stopped before the gates, "Alright, have any of you been through the wall gates before?"
A round of head shaking.
"Ha, we will have to get you your mole's teeth after this, then. Long story short, it's like an airlock at an ICU or on some wet navy ships if you've ever been on one of those. One side opens, then the other. Both can not be open simultaneously; it just doesn't work. Not even for emergencies, so once you get back into the kill box under the wall, you will have to hold some dirt before you get back to safety. There weren't any ground threats, so you should be good. Best of luck to you, a round on me after this, eh?" Kings grinned and gave them a thumbs-up before heading back toward the headquarters.
Team RWBY shared a glance before turning to the gate as it slowly opened. The mass of metal pushed away from the wall with a hiss of pneumatics before sliding upwards and out of the way. As soon as there was enough space to walk, a stream of soldiers in full kit ran into the airlock. Not wanting to be left behind, RWBY followed closely. Once inside, the name "kill box" made much more sense, seeing as the wall's interior was a dimly lit cube of concrete lined with machine gun ports on both sides and the roof. Looking toward the soldiers, RWBY noticed that they had split into three distinct groups of six, and one person from each group was approaching the team.
"Ladies. You must be the Hunter team. Have they assigned you your callsign yet?"
"Uhh… no, they haven't," Ruby blinked, "were they supposed to?"
"Eh, not really 'supposed' to, but they usually do so that they fall in line with the other callsigns in the mission. You must have been one hell of a last-minute add. Whatever, I'm Sergeant Verdant, callsign Stopper one one. The shorter and, therefore, objectively less attractive one to my right is Sergeant Azure, callsign Stopper two one, and our short queen this mission is Corporal Berhndt, callsign Stopper three one, her first SL gig. Still, she is probably better than most of our fellow Sergeants. We are just allowing her to prove it," Verdant shook his head, then glanced up as the inner door reversed its direction and began sliding closed, "irrelevant. Listen, we have had zero time to integrate and, therefore, have no idea how each other works. That doesn't jive with me, so I feel the best route is for us each to do our own thing and communicate enough not to screw each other over. Don't worry about 99 percent of what we say over the radio; listen for us to call, uh… Beacon one, that'll be you guys, short stack you look to be lead here, so you are one one; white hair, you be one-two; black hair will be one three, and if blondie can beat the stereotype, she should be able to figure out what's next. All we need from you is to push past the wreck by 100 meters and kill what you can. My teams can handle anything this forest can throw at us, but we will thank you for making it easier for us if we have to deal with casualties. Just call out any big bastards that slip past you. Sound good?"
Verdant waited for a few seconds, then walked back toward his team without glancing back, the other SLs following his lead.
"They didn't even ask for our names… and Weiss is shorter than me…" Ruby murmured.
"We got callsigns. That's all we need as far as they are concerned. They probably don't think they will ever see us again," Weiss said, placing a hand on Ruby's shoulder.
"Or they don't want to get attached in case any of us don't make it," Blake said, ears twitching at the hissing of pneumatics and hydraulics heaving tons of metal. "They are obligated to get invested in their teams, and losing one of their team is probably devastating; not getting invested in anyone else they might have to see dead might just be a survival instinct. And Weiss is wearing heels, so taller than you right now."
A playful pout and whine toward the resident heiress started, but it was quickly silenced as claxons blared and emergency lights began to cycle. A hiss of air screaming for release and the groan of metal moving against its will rang out into the echoey chamber.
Silver-gray eyes locked onto the external door.
"I will push ahead and establish a position on the wreck to cover our approach. Weiss, once you get to the wreck, push past about 100 meters and start putting up walls, earth, or ice. It doesn't matter. Whatever is most efficient. Blake, push past our hold position and scout ahead. There might not be anything, or there might be something smart enough to wait for the door to open; find out. Yang, you have anchor duty. Plant onto the hold position, and we will rotate around you. Do not lose yourself to your semblance unle-"
"Unless you okay it, I got it, sis. It hasn't been an issue since second year." Yang groaned despite the slowly growing grin and jitters. Embers shifting into tiny tongues of vermillion flame dancing across her irises.
The external gate lifted. Before sunlight could cross the threshold, a blur of color squeezed through the gap, leaving a trail of petals, red like roses. Ignoring the soldiers' exclamations, the rest of RWBY shot forward, slid underneath the gate, and ran towards the wreck in the distance. A pillar of smoke marked it against the horizon, making it impossible to miss. Ruby's red cloak provided even more of a target to focus on, contrasting with the burnt hull of the transport. Blake was the second to make it to the wreck, sparing a lingering glance at it as she ran past.
Weiss and Yang hit the position almost simultaneously. Weiss slid to a stop and knelt, spinning Myrtenaster's cylinder until the freeze dust was aligned with the blade, the chamber glowing the color of an iceberg's belly, reflecting off her pale skin, nearly matching the color of her eyes. A white sigil sprang into existence around her as she knelt, taking on the appearance of a snowflake as it span itself into existence. With an exhale of effort, Weiss forced the sigil to expand, growing to nearly 100m in diameter. Closing her eyes, furrowing her brow, and letting out another hissing exhale of concentration, a final effort erected a sheer wall of ice reaching well above 5 meters, covering only half of the sigil facing away from the wreck. With a smirk, Weiss stood. Upon hearing the familiar sound of a cloak being ripped through the wind, her smirk grew. With no visible signal or effort, another sigil burst into life directly above her head. Almost instantly upon it reaching solidity, a ruby blur bounced off the glyph and landed perfectly on the top of the ice wall.
While this was happening, Yang surged ahead of Weiss, pushing forward until she saw the sigil spring into existence behind her. She reigned in her advance until she was just forward of the barrier. She cast her gaze about the lightly wooded path before her, slowly pushing her rage out, sending it twisting between the boughs and branches, seeking something to ensnare. She saw nothing and heard little more until the familiar feather-light steps sounded almost directly above and behind her.
"No visible survivors in the wreck," Ruby said, a telling monotone chilling her voice and killing Weiss's smirk. Ruby keyed her radio, "This is Hunter one one to all Stopper teams. Hunter team is in position. No visual survivors in the wreck. Did not stop to assess. Will hold until Stopper teams begin exfiltration."
"Hunter one one, Stopper one one. Affirm. On approach to Mass Cas, hold POS until triage is complete, break, ETC 12 mikes."
"Hunter one one." Ruby keyed their team's internal comms, "Blake, anything?"
"Nothing ground level. I am seeing lots of marks on the mid to upper levels of the trees. From what I saw on the wreck as I moved past, I think this was a massive, nevermore swarm."
Ruby frowned. Where was the rest of the swarm then? Nevermore are notoriously aggressive, they only flew off when their target was dead, or if there was…
Ruby frantically keyed into the Valean military frequency, "All Stopper teams, this is Hunter one one. We have reasonable suspicion that there is an ancient nevermore behind these attacks, recommend all teams retrograde ASAP. Is Spike one on this frequency?"
The radio spilled silence for what felt to be an eternity.
"Negative. Spike is on a different frequency. I will relay the message. Stopper 2 is over halfway done with triage; there are no survivors yet. ETC. 5 mikes, can we hold pos until triage is complete? Over."
Ruby bit down on her frustration and keyed her mic. Before she could speak, the ever-present cadence of the anti-aircraft artillery emplacements changed, rocketing itself to the foreground of her attention. No longer was it the constant staccato of the 40mms interspersed with the louder reports of some larger caliber, underlined with the dull roar of proximity-fused explosives. Now, there were the telltale cracking reports of small arms and the barely audible cries of rage, pain, and defiance.
Ruby keyed into the team's internal comms once again: "Blake, get back here now. We need to move back to the walls as soon as possible. I will try to get the military to start moving now. Catch up if we aren't here when you arrive."
A ringing drowned out Blake's response. Ruby winced and removed the earpiece. Surely it must have disconnected and was spewing out white noise. But the ringing didn't stop. Instead, a warmth trickled down her neck on the side from which she had removed the earbud. Snapping her fingers next to her ear and hearing nothing but still feeling the vibration of the motion triggered a moment of sheer dysphoria and confusion. A glance towards her team showed them in similar states, their mouths moving, but the incessant ringing stole their voices. A second had past, then two. Then reality reasserted itself.
Fluttering her cloak to catch the attention of her two present teammates, she motioned towards the wreck. Yang quickly and angrily motioned towards the forest, stopped briefly, then made vague triangles over her head and pointed back outwards. Ruby held up one of the earpieces, made a circular motion with her hand, then pointed at the wreck and then at the external gate. Yang's eyes flared a caustic crimson before slowly fading back into their flickering red/violet, slowly building more and more red as time passed. Weiss brought down the wall, unfortunately causing Ruby to stumble. The trio made their way to the wreck, seeing most of the soldiers nursing their own ears as they held a reasonable attempt at security given the circumstances.
Ruby spotted Sergeant Verdant and grabbed his shoulder. Seeing blood trickle out of his ears as well, she didn't bother with words, instead pointing towards the wall and cocking her head. Verdant visibly sighed, then nodded. Holding up three fingers as he spun off and began passing the hand signals along. As this continued, Ruby's annoyance with the situation peaked, her blood pressure rising to the point where she started hearing a roar in her ears. Or, maybe it was blood pressure if her heart was beating at a cyclic rate. Her hearing must be slowly returning, and her aura is finally restoring usability, at least partially. Yang had more aura, so she should be getting her hearing back sooner; Blake was about on par, and Weiss might still have some issues. As long as there was some, they could make it work. As Verdant approached Ruby, signaling to move, Blake stumbled out onto the pathway, usually white shirt now a dark red across both shoulders. Midnight tresses stuck to her head, refusing to sway with the rest of her hair, or peeling off in matted strands clumped together.
Ruby cursed internally; she really didn't like to do so, but it felt fitting this time. Scratch Blake hearing anytime soon, soon enough to be helpful at least. Maybe even permanent… No… irrelevant right now. Ruby rushed up to Blake and grabbed her shoulders, forcing eye contact. Blake's eyes were dilated unevenly, her right pupil much smaller than her left—probable concussion, possible TBI, not mission-capable.
She slung Blake's arm around her shoulders and dragged her towards Verdant, who stopped upon seeing Blake's condition. He stepped forward, gently grabbed Blake's chin, checking her eyes, and then swearing. Loud and Long, with the ease of pronunciation and cadence of an abundance of practice, even without the aid of hearing. Yang's attention snapped over to the outburst. Apparently, her hearing was, in fact, coming back quicker than the rest. To say she hurried over would be an insult to the action that took place. Yang took a step and willed reality to bring her destination closer. Somehow, it worked. Or Ruby was also concussed. That was not out of the question.
Leaving Blake in Verdant's care for the time being, Ruby put a hand on Yang's chest, stopping her from destroying the concept of distance entirely. She met Yang's fluorescent glare with a level gray. Red couldn't hold the gaze and shifted over Ruby's shoulder. They slowly shifted, lilac wholly lost, but the glow receded mostly. Sneaking a glance over her own shoulder, Ruby was relieved to see Stopper one had Blake laid out on a stretcher, head and neck immobilized, and an IV of some kind hooked into her arm. She also saw Verdant looking at her expectantly, a question bursting from his eyes but unable to escape his mouth. Ruby gestured for Yang and Weiss to follow as they provided rear security for Stopper as they began their jog back to the wall.
Yang hesitated a moment, taking deep breaths, forcing her anger underwater once again. Pushing the roil down to a simmer, she breathed deeply and slowly. Inhale, exh—*SMACK* ALE? Yang jumped in surprise, her hands rising to a ready position, only to find Weiss jogging forward, shaking out her hand. A single glance back, tongue extended, said all that needed to be said: "No one will ever believe you."
This bitch.
Disbelief turned to mirth. As the confusion bled from her, so too did the ethereal wind bleed away from her golden mane. Her eyes were now lilac once again, embers swirling behind plots of delicious revenge.
The run back to the wall was frighteningly uneventful. There should have been some nevermore, one at least. Something to show that the situation was normal or understood in some way. Instead, they stumbled into the clear-cut no-man's land before reaching the wall just 200 m away and froze. The top of the wall was invisible. Or it may as well have been. Nothing could be seen of the top, just clouds of black feathers interspersed with tracers like shooting starts across a starless night. The never-ending roar of defiance, the smell of spent powder, and the brass raining from the sky were the only indicators that some spiteful beings refused that lightless night. After an infinite second of gawking at the manifestation of what we all signed up to fight, Stopper and RWBY pushed forward. Moving faster than before, seeking to get into the kill box before any of the nevermore could take notice. The external door had been left open, though the internal defenses had been unmanned. Or perhaps abandoned, the bodies needed to replace those we pretended not to see falling amidst the brass and feathers. Three nevermore had decided to attempt to breach the gate. Stopper 3 had decided that was unacceptable and politely asked them to leave. Of course, politeness means the offering of a swift death to the men and women of the Valean armed forces. Three soldiers shouldered their rifles, three seconds of fire, and three piles of feathers whispering away to wherever these foul abominations come from.
Whoever controlled the doors must not have been moved with the gunners. Once the nevermore were dealt with and the group was within the kill box, the external door began its laborious trek downwards.
Ruby worked her jaw, feeling her ears pop several times in succession, each time bringing a slight increase in hearing at the cost of a stab of pain. Continuing to muscle through, she cast her gaze towards the stretcher near the door. Walking over, she looked at the man… Man? She looked around once more. There were four other stretchers being carried by Stopper. She had been so focused on Blake that the other casualties had slipped her notice. H-how could I have not noti… irrelevant right now, process later. She stepped towards Blake, looking down at the very unhappy faunus.
"Can you hear anything yet, Blake?" Ruby asked, feeling as if she were whispering despite knowing otherwise. Blake stared blankly at Ruby, heaved a sigh, then shook her head, wincing as her ears twitched as they rubbed against the stabilizers on the stretcher. Ruby smiled down at her, ear to ear, eyes closed to hide their uncertainty. She stood, still smiling, and walked to Yang and Weiss.
"She still can't hear anything." Ruby's head felt and sounded as if it were in a fishbowl, "With aura, it shouldn't be anything permanent, but she won't be hearing fully for a while." Yang nodded, understanding without much difficulty. Weiss, however, was still half lip reading, half guessing from muddled sounds. She nodded, understanding a full second later than Yang. This was why going into an unknown situation was always dangerous. As soon as she learned that there might be an ancient nevermore, she should have had her team focus their aura on their hearing. Instead, their entire team was at least partially impaired for who knows how long.
The internal door of the kill box started to shift. Stopper collectively checked ammo and readied themselves for the fight to come. RWBY did the same, with Ruby swapping her magazine out for HVAP and ensuring the API was within easy reach. Yang kept her buckshot and incendiary belts loaded but ensured she could grab the belts of slugs if the situation called for it. Weiss toyed with the cylinder on Myrtenaster for a few seconds, pondering, then flicked it to burn dust with a final flourish.
We were knocked down this badly without even getting a shot off? How co- Irrelevant. Process later. Focus on the now. Ruby focused on the sliver of sunlight slowly growing in front of them, the golden beam broken erratically by shadows of wings. With Blake out of action, she was the team's only eyes and ears forward. Not so much ears right now now, but the point still stands. As soon as there was enough of a crack, she pushed forward, suppressing that kernel of fear and nausea with a practiced touch. The world saw her as a blur of petals and color. She saw the world as it pushed its way through molasses. Perfectly conscious and aware of the passage of time, she had never measured it. She didn't want to know precisely how long she had spent trying to stay sane as the fastest person alive. Even now, she sometimes sli-irrelevant, process later. She slid under the opening and took a peek at what was waiting outside the doors.
Even with accelerated perception, Ruby took a second to understand what she was looking at. It was the largest avian grimm she had ever seen or heard about from a credible source, not Port. Though, now, she might lend his stories a bit more credence. This was an insult against the Brothers and any concept of the physics of flight. Every feather had a spine of the same bone plating that covered its head and comprised its beak. A ridge of armor ran down from the base of its armored skull to its razor-sharp tail feathers. Wings hundreds of meters across, their leading edge coated in the same bone plating that covers its spine, honed to an edge that whistled through the air with every motion. Its ribs and legs are armored, and its six eyes are fueled by malice that an animal intelligence could never bear. This was beyond RWBY. This was beyond the degraded garrison of Gate Four.
A green light slowly flashed into her sight. Beacon's alarms, they were signaling a full alert. Good, that meant true professionals were on their way, maybe fifteen real-time minutes. Not insurmountable, just nearly. The smaller nevermore would be a slight issue, not for RWBY, even covering for an incapacitated Blake. None of them were particularly threatening to anyone with aura. Still very lethal to those without, especially in numbers. The Valean army had done an excellent job of thinning out their numbers, however. Maybe, maybe this could be done without too many losses. A foolish hope for sure, but that was what made Ruby… Ruby.
To an outside observer, Ruby had been gone for maybe four seconds, just enough time for the door to slide up, far enough for the rest of Stopper and RWBY to push through. Ruby slid to a stop in front of the group.
"The wall emplacements are dealing with the majority of the swarm. Stopper your efforts will be best used to either cover the wounded on location against the swarm or move them to some kind of defensible position. RWBY will distract the big one. Beacon is sending reinforcements, which are less than 15 minutes out. Yang, swap for armor piercing. Weiss, It's time to live up to your title of Ice Queen. The primary goal isn't to kill but to delay. Understood? Good, let's move."
Verdant just nodded along, apparently getting enough from context clues and lip reading, taking the wounded back into the kill box, taking a back corner, and setting security, staying low and quiet to hopefully avoid any significant attention from the swarm just outside the gates.
Ruby rocketed forward, looking for a good perch to take the initial few shots from, semblance turning the chaotic scene outside into a slow-motion game of dodgeball. Maneuvering around beaks and claws that were barely able to react to her presence before she was already past them. Climbing up onto the roof of a nearby building, she sighted in, noticing that Yang and Weiss were almost in a position to take advantage of her shot—a few more seconds, to them at least. And. Now. The trigger pull and recoil serve as an anchor to restore herself back to real-time. Then comes the disorientation and nausea, brushed aside through years of practice.
Yang sees Ruby streak off into the distance. How fast is she going this time? How long will she have to wait to take the shot? She pushes quicker and harder so Ruby won't have to wait a second longer than is absolutely necessary. Crescent Rose's signature report pierces the shell of tinnitus covering her ears. Ruby thinks she is close enough, eh? Better not disappoint. She digs in deep. Pulls at anger long buried, hurts long forgiven, sorrows so old they fermented into a bitter rage. She drinks deeply and lets go… almost. She holds onto a single thread. It's a different thread nearly every time. A single happy moment, a memory of a smile, or a laugh. Of an embarrassment that became funny with time, some bright speck of joy. This time, it is a recent one, very recent. Weiss Schnee, of all people smacking her ass, and she couldn't even prove it! That bitch! A grin breaks through the rage, a thread now as solid as steel. Pools of molten vitriol, distilled wroth, are now flecked with violet embers, dancing merrily around the bonfire.
Weiss knew the moment Yang let go. She had seen it enough times, and she had been on the other side of the ring from it, too. A bounce went missing from her step. Instead of dancing along her path, she broke the world for daring to be between her and her objective. From fluid movements designed around mitigating blows and dealing counterstrikes, Yang moved to a heavy-handed, stone-footed style that cared little for how much damage was taken, only how much could be dealt.
Weiss also knew the moment Ruby pushed too hard; her strike had come a hair too early. Weiss had cried when she learned what Ruby went through when her semblance evolved. She had cried with Ruby in sympathy. She had cried with Yang to help bear the burden. She had cried to herself so as not to heap unneeded pity on the situation. She had even cried in fear of what her semblance might become. Hereditary semblances rarely evolved, but rare wasn't never. She knew, though, that Ruby had learned patience. A hard lesson, driven by the need to stay sane. So when Ruby's timing was anything less than perfect after using her semblance, Wiess knew that she had been waiting a very long time indeed. Many conversations would need to be had after this mission, she thought to herself.
Steadying herself amidst her thoughts, Weiss settled into a Terza stance. Her mind swirled back to her tutor's grueling lessons, hours spent holding almost every guard imaginable from a dozen different schools. With hindsight, she knew now that her father had asked her tutor to make the lessons as unbearable as possible so that she would quit. Instead, it forged her mind into a precision machine capable of moments of total clarity. Capable of performing impossibly complex manipulations of her semblance amid total chaos.
False edge up, weight over rear knee, perfect. The glyph needed jumped into Weiss's mind, patterns swirling back and forth in front of her mind's eye. Alterations and optimizations are made within milliseconds before conscious thought can interfere. Thankfully, she was using freeze dust; everything seemed so much simpler when using ice. The glyph sprang into existence before her sword, twisted into itself, and then expanded horizontally across most of the base. Weiss then stabbed her rapier deep into the earth. Pausing only briefly before freezing rain, sleet, and hail began to fall from the sky—a blizzard on demand in the middle of temperate farmland. Weiss sighed internally, flicking her now empty cylinder of freeze dust; that would be expensive. The weather would surely hamper the military's efforts, but it would be nothing compared to the effect it would have on the flying nevermore, and a grounded nevermore is a dead nevermore. According to port, at least.
Ruby's shot landed perfectly, piercing one of the beast's eyes, causing it to rear back in shock and pain, fluttering up off the ground in a panic. Just in time for the localized winter surge to bear down on it, driving it back down, struggling to maintain its upright posture, bringing it to within punching range of a Yang Xiao Long fully immersed in her semblance. Calling the sound the impact made a crunch of bone would be akin to calling an artillery shell a firecracker. So unearthly was the sound that survivors would later say that when they heard the impact in their shelters, they thought that something had shattered the stone above and that they were mere inches away from being swarmed by grimm. The blow landed, not on the skull but on the armored ribs of the beast. Crushing through the plates and pulverizing the tissue below. A strike so mighty that the ancient once again flew. A graceful arc it made, as it landed back first onto the headquarters, shattering reinforced concrete as it collapsed the second floor. A half cheer rose from the defenders at seeing such a powerful grimm laid low, only for it to be cut off as the ancient stirred itself once more. Forcing itself from the wreckage, threatening to bury it.
The beast rose, feathers and ash pouring from its form as it staggered to its full height. Taking full advantage of the moment of disbelief and despair, it inhaled. Like great bellows, it forced air into its gullet—such a tremendous amount that the dented plates shattered from their form, appearing and sounding much like an overpressured keg of ale finally bursting. A moment of recognition fell among the defenders; this had been done before. A moment of terror followed recognition; this would be worse than before.
The ancient let loose a cry. The hunters on approach from Beacon would say that they saw the ripple of the wave of sound as it tore through the atmosphere. Those unfortunate few on the ground were too close to appreciate such views.
Weiss had it the easiest, arguably. She was knocked unconscious upon first hearing the cry. Blake had it slightly worse; being within an echo chamber, the sound reverberated through the room many times, though not as powerful as it would have been since the ancient didn't have a direct line to the gate from where it landed after being attacked by Yang. Yang was struck by the sound nearly instantly, being the nearest. The blow shook her mind, breaking that steel thread, keeping her anchored from the blood rage. It was only good fortune that the blow was enough to entirely deplete her aura. For but a moment, she writhed in purest misanthropy, unable to slake her desire for the breaking of others before she, too, fell under sleep's wings. Ruby was faced with a tragic choice. She was the only one on the team to see her undoing approaching. Upon that instant of terrible recognition, she had entered her semblance and watched with horror and awe in equal measure as the cry laid low her friends; she watched as soldiers unblessed with aura ruptured as fruit from a fall. She watched as the smaller nevermore shattered before the wave. She watched as it drew ever nearer and knew that if she were to try to run, she might spend years before being able to return to her life. And so, with conscious effort, she returned to real-time, with full knowledge of what was approaching her. With a deep breath and an expression of peace, she accepted the brief moment of agony over the age of separation.
All beings surrounding the ancient nevermore were laid low, save the beast itself. Save… one other. Through a fluke of luck, or fate spun from the stars by the Brothers themselves, none can know. But one man, unblessed and wounded he may be, survived and remained awake. Within the roughly landed airship, chased for miles across the swaying green forests. Awoke. Through genius construction or inspired modification, the ship still breathed and still ran. It still gifted its pilot with one last gift. And through this gift, the pilot brought to bear man's most dreaded weapon. Spite. For in a fit of anger, knowing full well of his mortality. This man chose to sell his death and barter it for as much anguish as he could bestow upon the ancient. His ship stuttered and groaned but joined him in his last quest. Man and machine shrieked in a harmony of rage and pain. That pain was visited tenfold upon the ancient nevermore. The man and metal together flew straight into the ancient nevermore, jagged edges carved by its smaller kin turned into the blade that caused its ruination. Engines overheated and overstressed by countless feathered bodies exhaled their last dying gasp in a furious conflagration that devoured the ancient. And finally, the pilot and ship expended their last efforts and laid still.
The reinforcements from Beacon arrived minutes later, seeing the beast still breathing, but indeed breathing its last. Torn near asunder from both metal beast, and explosion, its armor shredded by the huntresses, its life extinguished by a single man. The beast died an ignoble death, burning and broken. Surrounded by enemies who didn't see fit to end its agony.
The huntresses were rescued, all to recover in time. Though some with new scars, both of body and of mind. However, all were confused as to how the beast was felled, doubly so when the professors that rushed to their aid confessed their inaction as well.
Of the garrison of Gate Four, three men survived. One Captain Gauthier De Rais, charged with recklessly endangering his men, is to be court marshaled upon recovery from his wounds. One Staff Sergeant, Rose "Pinky" Kings, is under investigation for cowardice in the line of duty and abandoning his post during a conflict. To be court marshaled upon recovery from his wounds. And once Corporal Cerise "Short Stack" Berhndt was selected for meritorious promotion to Sergeant and to receive the defender of the realm medallion for conspicuous gallantry in the face of insurmountable odds.
Of the pilot, he was recovered by the Beacon staff, and brought to their urgent medical center. In fact he should be waking. Right. About. Now...
The first thing that I felt was warmth. I felt the warmth of a blanket over my body. I felt the warmth of sunlight through a window. I felt the warmth of my body against the mattress. But none of these brought me to wakefulness. I have felt all of these warmths and more in my life. What I felt was a new warmth, one much less real but much more. I opened my eyes, breaking loose what felt like a decade's worth of crust. I… I don't recognize that ceiling… I got to sit up, I got- *PAIN*
I let out an involuntary growl as my stomach protests my every move. From amidst my pain, I hear a gasp and featherlight footfalls. Do they have ninjas here or something? No one is that light on their feet.I chance opening my eyes once more and come face to face with another.
"You… have silver eyes." I want to say more, something smoother, or maybe to actually get an answer to any of the questions in my head. But that is what my gut went with. Ah well… more questions after a nap I guess.