Jaune knew everyone was looking at him funny as he walked towards the cliffs for initiation. Most were looking at him as weird for the extensive kit he was wearing as compared to everyone else. Jaune could tell they were all kids living fantasies of heroics and fame. Jaune knew the truth; he had lived it. The world was not a happy place; you had to fight it tooth and nail, hence his kit. Preparation was half the battle, and Jaune liked to be prepared.
Ozpin eyed the young man as he climbed onto the launch pads. Mr. Arc was definitely not your average wet-behind-the-ears student. There was a professionalism to him. A professionalism that made an interesting, and obviously dangerous variable to Ozpin's larger plans. Plus there were the reports from Atlas. Highly confidential and secure reports that Ironwood had forwarded directly to him, looking for Ozpin's advice and input.
These missives were a jumble of confused after-action reports and panicked tactical evaluations. A fortnight ago, an SDC security force supported by some Atlesian military units went to intercept a White Fang assault group moving on a potential rogue Dust extraction operation in the northern wilderness.
Instead, what they all found was an encampment of an unknown organization.
The forwarded reports from Ironwood, described in sparse detail, an encampment of well-armed non-Atlesian personnel, armed with unknown ballistic weapons, that, on investigation of spent casings and medical treatment reports, there were no traces of dust. When the WF attacked the encampment, it instantly went on the defensive and deployed well-armed and highly mobile automated infantry. Which, if the missives were completely honest, were "heavily tactical, weaponized, faceless, skeletons."
As Ozpin prepared to give the final instructions, he recalled the final monolithic facts from after-action reports. While all three forces seemed evenly matched, the sudden explosive appearance of armored "humanoid" giants instantly turned the skirmish into a complete rout. The giants literally "fell from the sky" and hit the ground with earth-flattening impacts.
The tactical restraint they displayed was deeply unsettling. SDC and Atlassian forces were forced to retreat. In Ironwood's own words, the unknown force used the "3-to-1" wounding tactic, but against the WF, it was completely lethal intent. It would seem that this force knew how to engage organized military and ideological extremists. The casualty reports had been mixed. Multiple severe injuries for Atlassian and SDC forces, an utter slaughter for the WF. A perfect example of asymmetric warfare. With a final addendum that approximately 15 SDC and Atlesian personnel were MIA, and it was inferred that a few WF operatives suffered the same fate.
And here was a young man that showed a similarity to the physical descriptions of the unknown force's personnel.
Jaune didn't even listen to the instructions. He wasn't interested in attending this academy for huntsmen and huntresses. He was a Gen3 pilot. Jaune was here for a "capture-and-exfil," nothing more. Hidden behind his helmeted visor, he let his eyes focus on the target, as on his HUD a quick synopsis of needed biometric data scrolled past…
(Name: Belladonna, Blake / Sex : Female / Age : 17 (Est) / Race: Non-human - Phenotype : Feline / Height: 168 cm / Weight : 59 kg / Hair : Black / Eyes : Amber)
The sudden acceleration of the launch pad going off under him was nothing compared to what he could generate with his own kit. A ping and a line of text appeared in the bottom right of his HUD.
Orleans on station. Extraction forces are ready.
Closing towards the ground, he fired his jump-kit and bounced off the massive tree trunks as he blazed through the forest canopy. His HUD and the tracker he had been able to tag Blake with helped him zero in on her exact location. Jaune closed on his target with frightening speed and burst from the canopy above her as she faced off with a massive Ursa.
Jaune dropped like a rock onto the Ursa's back, driving it down to all fours, and after a three heavy sounding kerchunk like blasts into the back of its neck and skull from his EVA-8, the beast fell limp to the ground. Blake stood stone still, completely shocked at the sudden appearance of the fully kitted-out figure. A figure she recognized as the individual that bumped into her as she made her way to Beacon's cliffs.
"Blake Belladonna?" Jaune asked.
"Whose asking?" Blake replied as her suspicion instantly spiked, her body coiling to dash away in her normal tactic of evasion over direct confrontation.
"I'll take that as a yes." Jaune retorted before dashing forward, clocking Blake in the side of the head with a jump-Kit-assisted strike.
The world spun, and Blake stumbled for a second and then suddenly found herself taken to the ground. Her arms were twisted behind her and secured with tight zip ties.
"Orleans, this is Arc. Target secured. Repeat, the target is secure. Request extraction."
"Extraction is a no-go, Arc. Repeat, extraction is a no-go," came the response from Orleans. "We're tracking multiple hostiles converging on your position. Stand by for Titanfall."
"Shit!" Jaune cursed as he prepared to defend himself and his VIP while awaiting the overhead boom that would signal his backup had arrived.
(AN: So I decided to revamp, expand, and tighten up this story. This is a link to the ORIGINAL version. I'm pretty sure there's still eroors but I'm hoping this version is a better more fluid read.)
