A/N: You guys... the reviews you guys are leaving are so great. I'm so happy to have you guys along. You're the best!

Book Two: Corruption's End

Chapter 28: Walking Wounded

"When I saw Yang slaughter the invaders, it was hard to believe I had witnessed such a thing. Seeing her smile so widely afterwards was even more difficult to comprehend." Soo Nuyen, healer of Shao-la

Uncertain. Unexpected.

Twenty minutes ago, Amat was in a comfortable place, padding across the rooftops of Shao-la as he scanned for his target. Now… well, now was unfamiliar and uncomfortable territory. Escorting civilians across dangerous, arch-foe infested ruins was not something that the Holiest Temple instructed him in. But Trooper Yang had made them her responsibility the instant she saw them shambling out of an alley. Not only that, but he went along with it without question or complaint. Why? The answer wasn't coming. Pain blossomed in his head, a slow, unfolding ache.

He took a long breath, one that tasted like ash. He'd been trained to ignore worse. The end of his borrowed lasgun swept the streets, on the prowl for targets. However, there was only a dying city. Six alleys, all possible attack vectors. Narrow. Ten assailants at a time maximum. Two seconds to intercept. Given current operational objective to protect citizens, not enough time. Nine buildings. Five apartment complexes, one butcher's shop, one bakery, two storehouses. Three burn, the rest: intact. Twenty-four windows that could serve as firing positions. He checked them, double checked them, triple checked them. Nothing.

He exhaled.

The answer to his question still eluded him. His earliest assessment of Trooper Yang had been accurate... yet hasty. She was a mystery, bound in a waterfall of blonde hair and a white-toothed, infectious smile. But she was not the pious warrior her exterior implied. She was boastful, curious, and belligerent. Traits not expected from someone so clearly blessed by the Emperor. Traits that encompassed Trooper Yang mind, body, and soul.

As always, his Lady was correct.

Through his scope, he had only seen her slaughter-dance, a mischievous smirk or two. He had not expected to meet her in person. If he had, he would have prepared. Catching his eyes on his next sweep, she gave him a wink and a thumbs-up while she spoke to Mael.

Amat realized he could never have prepared himself for Trooper Yang Xiao Long.

He scanned the road once more. The two moons of Ranshu were shining through the lazy columns of smoke that reached out to meet them. They shined like rounded lasbolts, casting a red pallor on their ragged procession.

Night seized ahold of Shao-la. As the stars blinked into existence, each was accompanied by a piercing scream, a constant ringing that filled every street. It is their Epitaphum, their death-echo. He shook his head, causing his cameleoline cloak to shift and rustle. 'Epitaphum', a distant yet familiar word. Felt like orders in hypno-sleep. His temples ached.

"How we doing up there, Amat?" Yang… Trooper Yang. Her voice was laced with pain, despite her attempts to mask it.

"All clear," he replied. He checked his auspex. "We might make contact with allied forces soon." Amat looked up at the Citadel of Totha's Radiance, soaring atop a mountain of blackened rocks and studs of yellow crystal. Though they shone over the glow of Shao-la's fiery death, they dulled in comparison to the display of raw power he'd witnessed earlier that evening.

Unarmored. Alone.

That was how she fought, how she slaughtered the traitor astartes. His intervention had been an unsure thing. Could she have conquered the enemy sorcerer? He pivoted, once more assessing the situation. They'd made progress, but even with Trooper Yang's limping pace, the civilians were lagging behind, weighed down by wounds and worry.

He took a long, slow breath. The scene played itself again. She was just so fast. A golden blur that soaked up punishment like a Baneblade. She laughed at the one with the flamer, shrugging off damage that would melt terminator armor.

The worrying part of it all was that she enjoyed the fighting. Bravery? Bloodlust? It was impossible to tell. They were often two sides of the same bladed coin. Amat's fingers tapped against the side of his borrowed lasgun. Was the power of his exitus rifle enough? Such a thought would normally be laughable, but now... she was resilient beyond measure. Shield-breaker rounds existed for a reason, but even they seemed a paltry measure now.

He exhaled, returning to the task at hand. An unpleasant twinge of saccharine rot filled his nostrils, filtered and offset by the clean chemical tint of his rebreather. The enemy was near. Halting, he threw his fist up. Yang was at his side in a second, sword at the ready.

"Where are they?" She demanded.

"Can't tell. They reek though," he replied. She took a whiff, frowning as she did so.

"All I smell is smoke."

"You have to learn to differentiate." Amat paused. "Smells layer atop each other, and this one lies underneath." Yang scoffed at that, rolling her violet eyes.

"Is that what they taught you at assassin school?" And that was another thing. Her deduction wasn't a difficult one to make – far from it. It was that she wasn't intimidated. Encounters with people outside of his Lady's inner circle and the temple staff were few and far between, but all marked with the same expression: fear. And fear was as alien to Trooper Yang as the sound of his own voice.

"Well, I was taught to stay quiet." Amat said, earning a wide grin from his new companion. He couldn't help but enjoy her reaction, despite his growing confusion. Why had he said that? Where did it come from?

He'd spoken more words in the past twenty minutes then he could remember speaking in his entire life. All at the behest of Trooper Yang Xiao Long. She is the opposite of my Lady. Where the Inquisitor is quiet and determined, Yang was boisterous and easygoing.

Gregarious. Uncouth.

He smiled, despite the gnawing pain within his head.

"So where are they?" Yang asked, hand on the hilt of her power sword. Amat had lapsed into silence, and only panicked cries and the refugee's nervous whispers reached her ears. Her aura was very low, to the point where its most precise abilities were lacking, dull and unresponsive. Only the constant ache of danger persisted, seething from the charred doorframes of Shao-la in a noxious red haze.

"Up ahead." He gestured with her lasgun towards a small square up ahead. The buildings that surrounded them were taller than the ones they'd been crawling through, built with well-crafted stone and flecks of a marble-like stone. Crystals lined the nicer buildings, shining a soft yellow light onto the square.

The Ranshan tongue reached her, ringing against the brickwork roads. However, it was tinged with words that made her shoulder burn, phrases that made her skin shiver against her tunic. A Yǒng-lo commander was giving orders to his multitude of subordinates, roaring and gesturing with a two-handed sword. Turning to face the civilians, she mimed 'silence' and 'get down' as best she could. They understood her, shaking with fear as they nestled themselves onto the streets, smothering the children that whimpered or cried.

"What are our options," she hissed. Amat pointed to a side alley that snaked into Shao-la. It would be roundabout, but it most certainly led back to the Citadel.

"We could slip by there, but it's too close to the heretics. We could make it no problem, but the civilians won't," he said. Yang shook her head. "We could wait. It seems they're preparing to move."

"They look like looters to me. I don't think they'll be going anywhere except for a few nice shops. We should kill them," she suggested. Her first count had them at around two platoon's worth of soldiers. Child's play if I wasn't wounded, and I could fight with my aura. Damn it all! As it was, this looked to be a slight challenge. "If we give you the rest of the cells, do you think we could do it?"

"Undoubtedly. Though I still couldn't guarantee their safety," he said, gesturing at Soo and Mael. "They'll rush me, and find a bunch of easier targets." Appraising the square, an idea struck her.

"You a runner, Amat?" He considered this for a moment.

"I'm not the fastest, but I can easily outrun some armor-bound heretics. Why?" It was an older tactic, (devised by Ruby), but an effective one. Yang pointed at the farthest building, a three story eatery. It was mostly intact, peppered with arrows and stained with blood on the lower walls. It would serve. The square wasn't big enough to do the usual kiting, so a building would have to do.

"Get their attention. Hose 'em down, then dash in there," she said, pointing. "I'll hit 'em from behind."

"That's when I emerge from hiding and cut them down," he said.

"If I leave you any." Yang said with another grin. We can do this. Mael approached them, crawling forward as he cradled his lasgun in his arms. Each movement wracked his face with another grimace of pain. Yang told him the plan in a hushed whisper, collecting his last cell and tossing it to Amat. The Woadian was miffed, but she knew where that ammo was better spent.

"Now whatever you do, don't move. If you're seen, the whole plan goes to shit," she said. The civilians only had a few lasguns left. Not nearly enough firepower if they were caught. Amat gave her a hesitant nod.

"Here… take this," he said, offering the Woadian his cloak. Mael took it in awed hands, letting his fingers fill with the silky, translucent cloth. "Your friends could use it." Nodding, he retreated, his face twisting in pain.

"That might have come in handy." Yang said. Although she did feel better that it could do a little good for the refugees.

"Somehow…" he said, his grin audible through his mask. "I'll survive." Tapping a button on his wrist, he vanished from sight, seemingly swallowed whole by the city around him.

Showoff. Although I have to admit… that's pretty cool. She eased her sword from its scabbard, the blade silent as it left the polished plasteel. With a closer look she could still see Amat, albeit barely. The only indication he was advancing was a thin outline of rippling light. What else does Weiss have up her sleeve? She prepared herself to dash forward, hissing in pain as she stooped low. Air was in short supply, each breath more difficult than the last. Come on. Fight, dammit!

Amat revealed himself, appearing out of thin air near the crowd of Yǒng-lo. His borrowed lasgun roared, cutting down their leader with two unerring lasbolts. One boiled his brains away, the other punched through his heart. Before he could topple from his perch, ten more of his warriors fell, screaming in agony. The assassin dashed along the walls of the square, never once pausing his salvo of fire. They stormed after him, hooting delirious curses.

Yang stormed forwards, boots padding across the square in a storm of steel-shod leather. They never saw her coming. Her aura was still in the red, and she did not strike with her usual alacrity. Even still, the heretics could not repel her. Some turned to face her, while the others chased after Amat.

They were confused. He had done well to kill their leader first. Hacking them apart, Yang bellowed challenges, dared them to advance. Across the square, Amat scrambled up the side of the eatery, not bothering with the door. He was a fast climber, and it took just three seconds for him to reach the first balcony. There, he rammed a new cell home and continued his barrage.

"Come on!" Yang cried, daring a heretic forward. He snarled in rage and despair, stepping forward with his sword braced for a killing blow. It never fell, and his head tumbled from his shoulders before he could bring it down. She grunted in pain as her power sword continued its arc, flashcooking her next opponent as it severed his torso from his legs.

Between her sword and Amat's unrelenting fire support, they made butcher's slop out of the heretics. They turned to flee, but the her new friend allowed none to escape. Panting, Yang deactivated her weapon, leaning on the point for support. Waving the civilians forward, she continued the ascent towards the Citadel. Amat descended to meet her, lasgun barrel trailing lazy wisps of smoke. He reeked of ozone.

"Nice shooting, man," she said, trying to grin. She coughed instead, splattering blood on the square.

"Emperor!" Amat hissed, starting forward. He reached forward, hesitated, and retreated. "Are you okay?"

"I'll make it." Yang said, wiping her reddened lips. "We gotta keep going. We're almost there." Nodding, he marched forward. Soo bowed her head in thanks once she neared, her face contorted into one of pure awe.

A little girl ran up and embraced her, silent tears crawling down the grime of her face. Yang buried a kiss into the crown of her head, beaming despite the tortuous agony that filled every breath. The girl was mumbling something as she buried her face into her tunic, trying not to look at the fresh carnage or the twisted helmet that hung at her belt.

"Shh. Don't look. It's okay. It'll be okay." She escorted the child back to her parents, who welcomed her with open arms. They thanked Yang with smoke-charred throats and reverant, mumbled Ranshan.

As they left the square and the din of unrestrained battle grew red and furious, Amat sidled up next to Yang, borrowed lasgun in hand. The buildings around them were unburnt, but bore an unpleasant aura. Her head pounded once more.

"I'm sure our Lady could have her personal medics attend to that," he said, nodding at her broken ribs. Yang waved him off. "You're dragging your sword, Yang." Looking down, she saw he was right. An erratic black line trailed her, etched into the street.

"Look man, I appreciate the concern. I really do. But I'm going back to my Company. I've lived through worse. Much worse, in fact."

"Are you certain?"

"Sure as shit, my friend. Here," she said, digging around the interior of her flak armor. When she removed her hand, two fingers held a folded piece of paper. Its edges were burnt, and frayed, but it was readable.

"See this, Amat?" He nodded. "A kid wrote this. She's probably dead now. But-" She sucked in a breath through her teeth as another dagger of pain needled her lungs. "But at the same time, it coulda been her, the one over there," she said, pointing at the little girl that she'd embraced. "I can tell escorting civilians isn't really your deal. That's fine. Just… here." She gave him the paper, tucking it into an empty shell-slot. "These people need us. Broken ribs or not, if I'm the only thing that stands between them and death, you can be damn sure I won't be anywhere else." A chuckle.

"I expected as much," he replied. His hand fell over the prayer paper, but did not remove it.

"Damn right. You can't deny it feels good though." She gave him a ready grin. "Playing hero's always fun."

"I…" he stopped. "Hm."

"Man, what's up with you?" She asked, trying to smile. "One second, you're right there with me, the next you're all tongue-tied." Amat did not reply. "Yeah, like that." she said, resting her arm over his neck, as much for support as camaraderie. Talking was growing difficult. "Come on, I'm not that intimidating, am I?" He stiffened under her touch, and she could feel his uneasiness as it rumbled through his broad shoulders. "Give me a break here, Amat. Just cause I'm not running away doesn't mean I'm not in a lot of pain."

He obliged, shifting to accommodate her weight. "Better?"

"A little."

Thirty minutes later, they emerged from their alley, finding themselves facing a squad of shaking Woadians. They hefted their lasguns with trembling hands, bellowing challenges. Their warpaint was thin and smeared with sweat, and many bore thinly-wrapped wounds.

"Easy, boys." Yang said, coughing more blood into a balled fist. "We're friendly. Got some civvies in tow too." They shuffled forward, hesitant and cowering before the lasguns of the 111th.

"Name and rank?" Their sergeant said.

"Assault Trooper Yang Xiao Long. Gamma Platoon, First Company. Oh, and the Lady Inquisitor's Representative," she added with a grin. That shifted them into high gear. They parted to let her group through. "I got a present for you guys too." She displayed the helmet to them, earning awe-struck and open-mouthed stares, which delighted her to no end. She waved their questions away, before the last of the refugees shuffled past, each one whimpering words of thanks as they passed. "I promise you, it wasn't anything writing home about." They looked dissatisfied with this, but played along for now. "Who are you guys with?"

"I'm Sergeant Fylkyr Dugridsson. We're from Harja Platoon, Second Company."

"You don't look too well, Sarge." Fylkyr grunted, laying his lasgun against his shoulder as he appraised Amat with suspicious eyes.

"Understatement of the Emperor-damned millennium, Trooper. We're holding, but barely. Getting fucked sideways here." He waved them forward, bringing them into view of the main street that led to the Citadel. Limping out into the moonlight glare, Yang's jaw hung open.

The widened paved channel was choked with bodies. The battlefield smell here was horrid, a cloying reek that turned her stomach six times over. Woadians and the Shao-la guard formed a defensive salient against the encroaching Yǒng-lo, with the guardsmen pouring the last of their batteries over the heads of shield-locked Ranshan troops. Two more Elodian tanks were burning, blackened steel shooting up flames. The rest were retreating into the Citadel gates, engines growling and cannons blaring.

Between the brunt of the battle and the Citadel walls, a steady stream of civilians made for safety, mixed with the walking wounded and non-combat personnel. The street was full of wailing and weeping, accompanied by screaming lasguns and the rattling of steel. A Valkyrie swept low, spitting death as it swerved around smoking rockets.

It was controlled chaos, and all their lives hung on a thread. Yang stumbled forward, realizing that Sergeant Fylkyr and his squad were one of the many teams that blocked off the side streets, keeping them secure to the best of their ability.

If those traitor marines had managed to reach here… she shuddered to imagine the carnage. Better hope there aren't any more waiting in the wings.

"You alright?" Amat asked, turning to face her, head cocked in curiosity.

"Yeah. I think this is where we part ways. We should be able to make it back to our unit from here." The assassin nodded, bowing down to return her arm to her side. "We make a pretty good team, you know. And I wasn't joking about that game. If we make it out of this city, come find me." She said, offering her hand. He took it with a hint of trepidation, and was careful not to disturb her wound too much. Yang giggled a bit at his hesitation, before realizing that giggling hurt like a motherfucker.

They waved goodbye. Turning on her heel, she made to collect Mael. He was saying his farewells to Soo by the gates.

"Hey man." She said, getting his attention. In My Spirit roared, sprouting a plume of flame and broken bodies. Mael cringed, and Soo yelped, burying her face in his chest. "Hey. We gotta get back to Gamma." He considered this for a moment, eyes darting, frown deepening. "Sorry." Sighing, he took ahold of Soo's shoulders, kissing her deeply.

Breaking apart a few seconds later, Mael gestured towards the Citadel. The native woman understood, nodding as she wiped her tears away. She said something in Ranshan before disappearing into the stream of humanity.

"She'll be okay, man." Yang said, patting his shoulder. "Hell, that was so sickeningly cute, It's my new personal mission to get her out unscathed." Mael made a sad, noiseless chuckle. "Now come on, let's go find our friends."

Emerging from within the Citadel's keep, the Lady Inquisitor assessed the siege. From here, the entirety of Shao-la was visible, laid out for her in all its immolated beauty. Her gauntleted hands wrapped tight around the stone banister, sending cracks spiraling across its face. She had commanded the defenses as best she could. Her Woadians were holding admirably, but it was only a matter of time before they were overrun. Her duster flapped in the wind, carrying with it the scent of smoke and death.

She began the evacuation of her most critical personnel an hour ago. Taki, Calista, and Wind-Through-The-Valley were headed into orbit, reeling from the sheer crush of warp-craft that transpired tonight. Ira was still commanding the defenses in her stead, but soon the shuttle would return, and he would be on it. Amat too, once he could be found. After trying his channel and receiving nothing but static, she worried for his well-being.

Behind her, kasrkin kept their distance, still recovering from the psychic lashing she had unleashed in her boundless rage. Childish and irresponsible. In the hours since she discovered the treachery, she'd sent prayer after prayer that the image of Ruby in the traitor's head was one conjured from own foolishness. If Yang knew what transpired…

She would protest the evacuation. That was something the Lady Inquisitor was assured of. Even now, a stream of brown-clad civilians filtered into the expansive Citadel courtyards. Her own order, useless though it was. Yang would have to be recovered before the bombardment. She was more valuable than any other member of her retinue, and she must be spared from the coming holocaust. Forcefully, if I must. She sighed. I probably will.

"Damn it all," she murmured. Once more, she was forced to scour a world of taint. Total exterminatus wasn't required, but having to turn The Scythe of Morning on civilians… it never got easier. It made her sick.

And Emperor forbid the day I grow accustomed to it, she thought, watching the final gasping breaths of a doomed city.

A/N: This spells the beginning of the end for Shao-la... I hope you guys enjoyed! As always, I love to hear your guys' feedback, so let me know what you thought! So far the response you guys have given me has been incrdible. I'm wowed by the amount of attention this has gotten. Seriously. This is the top reviewed non-anime RWBY crossover. I'm... wow. You guys are the best. :)

Review Replies:

The Walrus of Eden: Aw, you're making me blush! I'm glad you're enjoying my OCs so much! :D

The Pyromaniac: Pssshahahaha that's too good! XD

Nemris: I'm glad you like him! He's grown on me a lot as well!

Dom380: I guess you'll have to wait and find out!

blaiseingfire: If there's anything left to clean! XD

Chris Adair: I'm not sure... guess you'll just have to keep reading!

Draconic Kaiser: Haha I'm glad you're enjoying all the OC bits. Thanks so much for your reviews!

OBSERVER01: Well, maybe not this chapter, but who knows what's up next? Oh right... me. :D

DanAbnettFan1997: Uh, I meant that "Amat" is his Cognomen-Designate... not supposed be his title or anything... oops!

Guest: If she wants some, she'll find some!

Galm: Hopefully the meeting satisfied. :)

Sigurd: Glad you're enjoying this so much!

Gafgar: I guess we'll find out, won't we?

Yoshtar: While the idea is amusing, I'm not sure if she'd be down with that.

Dayanne Rockstar: Holy shit, that's hilarious. Hellsing Ultimate Abridged FTW! :D

TaskRabbit: Haha shipper on deck! But seriously, I'm glad you're enjoying this so much. It means a lot!

reality deviant: It's not hard to do... Yang's pretty awesome on her own! XD Thanks!

Mintskittle: Ooh, good OST choice. But yeah, thanks so much again for your reviews! Always enjoy reading them. Frostfyre... I see what you did there! XD

Enuncia: You too, bro! :D

Kiyoushu: She schooled 'em, that's for sure!

jboone93: Hey no problem! I've noticed your work on the TV Tropes page by the way. I'm so incredibly grateful!

Skepsis Forever: Silly Skepsis, he's a Vindicare, not an Eversor! XD But yes, so glad you enjoyed the chapter!

Hypothetical Spiritual Entity: I wish I could make it a little crackier... you have no idea how tempted I am man. No idea. Thanks for you reviews!

Again, you guys are just incredible. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You all are the reason this fic is still afloat! :D