They attacked in the late afternoon, with the sun behind them. They charged down the hill, towards the village, a hundred voices screaming war cries and profanity. Blades flashed in the sunlight, blinding the men and women—the residents of the village—who stood on the wall. Guns fired and bullets tore into both barricades and defenders alike.

A woman went down screaming as a bullet tore through her side. She fell to the ground in convulsions. A gurgling sound came out of her mouth; the bullet had hit her lung, and she was drowning in her own blood. Her face didn't show fear, only regret—regret that she'd died before the battle had truly begun. People ran to the wall to carry her away, but she would be dead well before they made it to the doctor.

A man watched as the woman was dragged away and whimpered as he squeezed rifle he held to his chest. He wanted to go to her, but knew he couldn't afford to leave the wall.

Another man shivered in fear as he watched the attackers approach. A small, yellow puddle was forming at his feet. For a moment he looked like he was about to run, but something seemed to harden his resolve and keep him in place.

A woman, seeing the men who'd killed her husband charging towards her, grinned. She looked bloodthirsty, eager for violence, pining for revenge.

A man fumbled and dropped a magazine as he tried to load his rifle.

A boy, no older than fourteen, dropped a pile of arrows into the dirt below.

A bow string snapped.

Steel sang as a blade cleared its sheath.

Defenders roared at the attackers, egging them on.

Some fired back, against orders, too eager for battle to care.

Jaune noticed all of this in an instant. The sword that sang was his; it left its sheath with a deadly hum. He peeked over the wall and waited. The attackers were coming faster than he'd expected. He'd never quite managed to remember how Faunus were different to humans; he remembered the night vision, but not much else.

He took a breath and hoisted his sword high. That was the signal. There was a loud cry from behind him and the sound of snapping rope. Large sacks were hurled over the wall, into the middle of the approaching attackers. The sacks hit the ground and exploded. The attackers unfortunate enough to be within range were engulfed in flames.

Jaune grimaced as he heard the first of the screams. He gripped his sword tighter; there was no turning back now. He raised his sword again and roared.

The defenders who were armed with firearms peeked over the wall as one and fired a volley of shots into the still-charging attackers. Men who stood below the walkway that ran around the wall fired a volley of arrows over the wall—there hadn't been enough guns to go around.

A man atop the wall screamed as a bullet pierced his neck. He dropped the rifle at his feet as he tumbled over the wall and landed on the outside. He didn't move.

Jaune roared for someone to pick up the fallen weapon and glanced over the wall again. The attackers started lobbing crystals as they charged. The Dust exploded on the face of the wall, sending bursts of flame over the parapets. There was a crew of Faunus approaching, further back in the enemy forces, carrying a large, metal container

Time to go, Jaune thought. He signalled the retreat and waited until all his troops had reached the ground before following; he didn't want any of them to be on the wall when that container blew.

Jaune hit the ground running. He ran twenty metres back from the wall, screaming for everyone to get behind him. They formed a phalanx on either side of Jaune. All the defenders with swords or makeshift spears stood at the front of the line, and those with firearms or bows stood behind.

Jaune hefted his shield and knelt down, so that most of his body was covered. He forced himself to breathe slowly. People around him were panting frantically, beginning to panic—or give in to adrenaline. Jaune did his best to slow his heart rate; he needed to be thinking as clearly as he could.

People came from behind the phalanx and passed thick, wooden shields to those in the front line. They were too heavy to run around with, so they'd hold the line until they were ready to charge against the attackers, then drop the shields as they attacked.

They stood in an agonizing silence, waiting for the inevitable. There was no noise from the other side of the wall, which made it even worse.

Then the world trembled. A section of the wall, ten metres long, was suddenly blasted into the air. Jaune angled his shield so it covered his head as well and tightened his grip on the handle. Rocks and shrapnel pelted off it, pinging loudly to either side of him.

Then the bullets struck. Jaune's knees almost buckled from the sudden force as they hit his shield, but he held. He took a step forward, pushing against the almost constant force of pounding bullets. People around him screamed and went down. A second after the enemy opened fire, Jaune's troops sent their own bullets into the line of Faunus in front of them.

Jaune pushed forward slowly, and his front line followed. They edged towards the enemy, waiting for a lull in their fire. If they were smart, they'd have two teams of riflemen—one to fire while the other reloaded—but Jaune was hoping they weren't that smart.

The longer the bullets struck his shield, the more that hope died. He felt a bullet hit his foot and winced. His aura stopped the bullet from piercing him, but he'd have a bruise at least—maybe a fracture. He peeked around his shield; they were less than ten metres from the enemy line now, and enemy soldiers were approaching with their own swords bared.

Jaune grinned. Bad mistake. The best hope they had was to keep Jaune's troops pinned with gunfire until they could flank their line. Engaging them in close-quarters combat? They wanted to fight Jaune with swords? Well I won't stop them, he thought with a small chuckle.

His smile died as the man to his right went down, a bullet tearing into his calf. Jaune grimaced and gritted his teeth in anger. Time to finish this.

Jaune threw himself forward and swung his shield forward. He felt a jolt as it slammed into an enemy's face, then brought it to his side—out of the way of his sword—and cut the man down. Jaune stepped over the body and raised his shield as another man lunged at him. He angled the shield upwards and pushed as the sword struck it. The attacker reeled backwards as his sword was suddenly pushed back over his shoulder, leaving his side exposed. Jaune made the most of the vulnerability, and the man fell in a silent heap on the ground.

The defending troops rushed forward, following Jaune's lead. They pushed the first wave of attackers back, and gave Jaune some breathing room. He glanced around, surveying the situation quickly.

There looked to be around seventy attackers left, and only around thirty defenders. Not good. They'd been outnumbered to begin with, and their early casualties had only widened the gap. He needed to do something, fast.

Jaune threw himself forward and threw his shield in the way of a sword blow that would have killed a woman who stood to Jaune's right. She nodded in gratitude as Jaune shoved the attacker—a Faunus with the yellow eyes of a wolf—back a few paces.

"Get back into the village," Jaune yelled to her over the din of battle. "Tell them to send up the flares, now!"

The woman nodded and fled.

That's all I can do for now, Jaune thought grimly as he swung at the wolf Faunus. Now all we can do is wait.

The wolf Faunus ducked the swing and lunged for Jaune's right side, but Jaune managed to bring his shield across in time. He was unbalanced now, his sword in the air and his shield held across his body, so Jaune spun to his right while stepping to the left. He swung the shield around as he spun and slammed it into the Faunus' side, sending him sprawling. Jaune slashed down with his sword, severing the man's hamstring, and sent a fist crashing into his temple. The man went limp.

Jaune heard a high-pitched whine and glanced upwards. Two bright red flares were hanging in the air over the village. A good sign.

Jaune caught an oncoming blow at the last second and dragged his attention back to the battle. There was nothing else he could do for the moment.

The battle raged on. Jaune gradually brought his troops back towards the village. He had a small team lobbing Burn Dust crystals into the enemy's lines, which caused enough of a distraction to give them room to breathe as they pulled back. He wasn't sure if it would kill any of them, though he saw a few go down from well-aimed throws, but it certainly caused havoc in their lines.

They crossed a small trench, lined with pikes, and turned to face the enemy. The attackers were more cautious now. They knew they had Jaune on the back foot; they had all the time in the world. They could see their number advantage, and knew it was only a matter of time before the remaining defenders tired.

Jaune looked over the wall as a green flare went up, behind the enemy lines. He grinned and called for more Dust crystals to be lobbed over; the enemy needed to be distracted. As the Dust exploded around them, the attackers formed ranks and opened fire on Jaune's line. The Dust throwers ducked behind the line of shields.

Half a minute later, there was a loud cry from the enemy ranks, and the Faunus turned to face their rear. Jaune grinned as confusion spread through the enemy. He ordered the last of their Dust to be thrown at once—for as big an explosion as possible—and gave the order for the rest of his makeshift army to charge.

They hit the enemy while most of them had their backs turned; only the front line was still facing Jaune. They smashed into the line in a spearhead formation, forced a gap open and charged in. Jaune led the way, cutting at anything that moved in front of him. The enemy floundered, still in a state of confusion. Those who managed to realise that Jaune was in their midst were instantly cut down.

Jaune reached the middle of the enemy's group and saw their reinforcements for the first time. He knew they were coming, the green flare had been the signal that they were about to attack, but he was glad to finally see them. The leader of the reinforcement group smashed through the enemy ranks and reached the centre at the same time as Jaune.

Jaune couldn't help but feel relieved at the sight. The leader of the reinforcements smiled at him and blocked an oncoming sword stroke before cutting down the attacker.

"About time, Pyrrha!" Jaune yelled.

The tall, red-haired Huntress rolled her eyes. "You seemed to be handling things just fine."

Jaune grinned as he slashed a charging bull Faunus. "Good to have you here anyway!"

Pyrrha grinned wickedly. "When is it not?"

It was Jaune's turn to roll his eyes. He opened his mouth to respond, but the enemy seemed to have regained their bearings and were turning to face the pair. Humour vanished from Jaune's face. It was time to work. He and Pyrrha stood back to back, shields and swords at the ready.

The enemy attacked at once. Jaune blocked one attack with his shield and one with his aura. He heard Pyrrha grunt with effort behind him and a whole wave of attackers lurched back as their weapons were nearly torn from their grips.

Jaune and Pyrrha made the most of the distraction, lunging into the fray before they could recover. Blood soaked the ground and cries filled the air. Jaune saw glimpses of Pyrrha's red hair as she moved, a flashing blur of death. Her sword lashed out, so fast as to be almost invisible, and men fell. Jaune blocked a few attacks that came at her blind side, and cut down the attackers.

Jaune panted heavily as the fight wore on. He could see the enemy beginning to falter, fear filling their eyes, and he grinned. That seemed to put them off even more, which was rather the point. He let out a vicious war cry and threw himself into a pack of Faunus, trusting his aura to protect him.

Rather than turning to attack, the enemy broke rank and started to flee. Once one of them ran, the rest seemed to take it as a signal and chased their comrade. The more bloodthirsty of the defenders tried to chase them, but Jaune and Pyrrha held them back. Jaune watched the enemy flee—their numbers reduced to about thirty—until they disappeared back over the hill they'd attacked from.

Jaune turned to Pyrrha with a smile. She grinned back as she sheathed her sword and hung her shield on her back. Jaune collapsed his shield and sheathed his sword before hanging it at his belt. They fell into each other's arms, both panting heavily from the battle, but relieved enough to see each other that they didn't care.

"You left the signal a little late," Pyrrha said in a disapproving tone when they pulled apart.

Jaune shrugged. "We were handling it."

Pyrrha cocked an eyebrow. "Is that right?"

Jaune turned towards the battlefield, ignoring Pyrrha's pointed look. "We should see to the wounded."

"Maybe not…" Pyrrha muttered.

Jaune shot her a questioning look, but she was looking past him. He followed her gaze and saw the leader of the village approaching them with a wide grin on his face.

"Victory!" the man cried, holding his hands in the air as if crying to the heavens. "We have won the day!"

Jaune frowned.

"Not without cost," Pyrrha said in a disapproving tone. The man was standing in a field of his fallen neighbours, and didn't seem to bat an eyelid.

"Of course," he said, looking out over the battleground. "But now we are rid of these barbarians, and can return to our work."

"They didn't seem like barbarians," Jaune cut in. "They seemed very well equipped, if not as well trained."

Pyrrha nodded. "They had Burn Dust crystals and a Dust bomb. They might have been stealing Dust from you, but they could only have stolen unrefined ore. They were getting Dust from somewhere else as well."

The leader frowned. "As long as we are rid of them, I care not from whence they came, nor for whom they work."

"Well, we do," Pyrrha said. "If they are part of a larger group, we need to find out who, and if they're raiding any other mining villages in the area."

"Alas," the man said. "I fear that all of our foes are either dead or fled, and we shall get no information out of them."

Jaune shook his head. "I knocked one out earlier. He should still be lying around."

The leader nodded. "Well you are welcome to him, of course. If you would excuse me, I must see to the people. There are funerals to be held, and repairs to be made to the village, before we can get back to work."

Jaune and Pyrrha watched as the man walked back to the village.

"I don't like him," Jaune said.

"I couldn't tell," Pyrrha replied with a smirk.

Jaune smiled briefly. "It just… he just seems to not care about people. What kind of leader doesn't care for those he leads?"

Pyrrha glanced at the retreating from of the man in question. "Those who are given the position, rather than earn it. Those who covet the power, rather than accept it. Power corrupts, Jaune."

"I know, I know," Jaune said. "Let me know if I ever start turning into… that."

Pyrrha laughed. "Of course. I'll beat you back into shape myself."

Jaune blanched. "On second thought, can we let Ren do it?"

Pyrrha rolled her eyes and planted a kiss on Jaune's cheek. "Come on, fearless leader. Let's go and find this prisoner of yours."

Jaune's good humour faded quickly as they waded through the field of the dead. Most of them were enemies, either killed by his own sword, or by his order. The others were villagers, who had died under his command. He felt the weight of all those deaths; he always did. Pyrrha had told him it was a good thing for a leader: once he stopped caring, then they knew he had a problem. But that never made him feel any better about it.

They found the Faunus Jaune had knocked out within a few minutes, lying underneath the fallen corpse of a female bear Faunus. Jaune grimaced as they moved the corpse off the man and checked if he was still breathing. He seemed in surprisingly good shape for an unconscious body on a battlefield; he was still alive, which was a good start.

Jaune started searching the man's pockets. Pyrrha pulled out her scroll and stepped away, calling for their pick up. The airship that had brought them here had flown Pyrrha's troops away the night before, in preparation for the battle, and had stayed out of sight throughout the day, lest the enemy suspect they were up to something. Jaune heard the radio-filtered voice of the pilot say he'd be there within twenty minutes and sighed in relief. He wanted to go home.

There was nothing of any interest in the Faunus' pockets, but there was a small, emblazoned armband on his upper arm. It was too small to notice on the battlefield, but now that Jaune looked around, all of the enemy wore them.

It was pure white and had a black emblem: the head of an eagle, beak open, and three black slashes behind the head. Jaune narrowed his eyes at the sight. It was too similar to the emblem of the White Fang to be a coincidence—in fact, it was almost exactly the same, but coloured black rather than red, and with the head of an eagle instead of a wolf…

Jaune sighed. The Black Talon.

The White Fang had been disbanded two years prior—their leaders had been arrested and the followers forced to stand down—but not six months later, another Faunus terrorist group had sprung out of the woodwork: the Black Talon.

Whereas the White Fang had at least given the impression of wanting to help the Faunus—they had attacked companies who used Faunus labour and fought for the equality that so many Faunus had prayed for—the Black Talon just attacked indiscriminately. They never delivered messages, never issued demands. They would simply appear in an area; attack, destroy and pillage until they were satisfied; and then leave. No one had found out what they were after, but an open bounty had been posted for any information on any members of the group.

Now they had a member of the group, alive. Jaune sat back with a sigh and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Pyrrha walked back and stood next to him. She gave Jaune a questioning look, and he pointed at the armband.

She frowned, glanced around, and, after confirming that the other corpses wore the same band, knelt down beside Jaune.

"We need to take him back with us," she muttered.

Jaune nodded. "We can't let any information he has slip away. We don't know anything about the Talon, let alone why they were attacking the village."

Pyrrha got to her feet and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. She cuffed the unconscious man's hand behind his back and picked him up.

"Come on," she said. "The airship is going to pick us up outside the village."

Jaune glanced at the village. People were crying, sobbing, comforting one another, moving bodies, or clearing rubble. He wanted to help. He couldn't stand seeing people suffer like this; every fibre of his being cried out for him to help them.

But he knew they needed to get back to Vale. The information their prisoner had could be the key to stopping things like this from happening again.

Jaune sighed. "Just… give me a minute. Let me go and say goodbye."

Pyrrha nodded and set their still unconscious prisoner on the ground. Jaune walked back into the village, waving to people as they met his gaze, or offering a reassuring smile. The leader of the village spotted him and approached.

"We can manage from here, good sir," he said to Jaune. "We are most appreciative of your aid, but I think we'd best take care of everything from here."

Jaune looked around at the people around him. They were listening to the exchange and nodding solemnly. Miners were always hard people; they had to be. Dust mines were dangerous, and anyone could die at any time. They were used to death, perhaps more than anyone.

Jaune nodded, realising that they could handle it. They didn't need his help. They wanted to mourn amongst themselves, to rebuild with their own hands.

"We'll send some troops from Vale," he said to the village leader. "In case any of them should come back."

The man nodded. "That would be most appreciated, though I doubt they will after the beating we gave them."

Jaune gave the man a weak, lopsided smile. "I'll send them all the same, just in case. They can set up camp outside the village. They won't get in the way, or intrude; they'll just watch the surrounding areas and defend if need be."

The man nodded. "My thanks again."

Jaune hesitated, still torn by the urge to help the village more than he had. It felt like he'd done nothing but arrive, order people around, and get them killed. But no one gave him a bitter look. No one blamed him for the deaths of their friends and family. They all seemed grateful; they smiled and thanked him. I guess that'll have to do…

He nodded at the leader and turned away. Pyrrha smiled as he approached.

"You ready to go?" she asked as she hoisted the prisoner onto her shoulder again.

Jaune nodded.

"Yeah. Let's go home."