A Not So Chance Meeting

The world of Remnant is not a kind one. It never has been. Humanity has etched its existence into it, clawing desperately for a foothold in this hostile world. The people of Remnant realizing the fragility of their existence, formed strongholds hoping for safety in numbers. The kingdoms of Vacuo, Vale, Mistral and Atlas each hold their strongholds against any opposing grimm and, to a lesser extent, those humans who would threaten their existence.

Even with the safety these kingdoms offer, there are those who choose to live in the so-called "Outlands" away from the protection of the kingdoms. Shunning the kingdoms, these souls eke out a living trading and farming, always wary of an approaching Grimm attack. These people do not trust outsiders; rightly so, for they make tempting targets cut off from the support of the kingdoms. Every so often, travelers will pass through. While not welcomed with open arms, if the traveler has something to trade, the village dwellers are content to leave them well enough alone.

Jacobs Holt was a man not easily surprised or bothered by unusual happenings. He had fought his fair share of grimm and considered them little more than a nuisance. He was the Captain of the Guard of this desert settlement and had been trained by a retired hunter living in the village when he was a boy.

Jacobs was known as a thoughtful man and not easily fooled; thus, he was one of the men who was assigned to guard the wall surrounding the settlement. He was the one who usually dealt with visitors due to his semblance, which allowed him to tell if a visitor held any ill will towards himself and by extension, the village. He spent much of his time searching for any sign of grimm or anomalies from his watch post. So, when he spotted a dust plume across the dessert, he clicked his radio on.

"Attention Guards, a dust plume had been spotted approximately 3 miles out. Over."

With that message relayed, Jacobs again focused on the rapidly approaching plume as more dust was sent flying into the air. Within a couple of minutes, the cause of the dust plume became visible as a figure came running towards the town. With a sigh, Jacobs clicked his radio back on:

"Sand walker sighted, heading towards the village. Over."

Barely registering the affirmative response, he continued looking outward. A minute later the figure had arrived at the village. The figure was almost entirely cloaked in a dusty cloth, leaving only metal gauntlets and the hilt of a sword clearly visible. Jacobs leaped down from the wall onto the sand, kicking up some dust.

"What is your business here Sand Walker?"

"I seek to resupply and have a short rest if any room is available," a male voice responded, rasping slightly. Jacobs nodded and replied:

"Alright, don't cause any trouble. The inn is located near the center of the village; just ask the innkeeper where to find the supplies you need. May I have a name?"

"Jaune,"

The man then slightly nodded his head in gratitude as Jacobs opened the gate to let him inside.

Jacobs watched Jaune walk past him and then turned off his semblance. 'He's Blue so he shouldn't cause any trouble for the village.' Jacobs then leaped back up the wall, taking advantage of some of the protruding stonework. As Jacobs went home for the night, his mind focused on his dinner, he almost bumped into another figure. Apologizing hurriedly, he kept walking.

The figure glanced towards the guard, but maintained his steady pace heading towards the village inn. Arriving at his destination, the figured slipped in through the door and started to scan the inn. There were about a dozen patrons drinking. 'Locals', the figure's eyes settled on one figure who was seated at the bar and sipping at his beverage between bites of his meal 'Ah, found you'. With purposeful steps, the man walked up to the bar and settled into the seat by the other man. Raising a hand to signal the bartender for a beverage, he turned to the right to address the other man.

"You're a hard man to find Jaune."

"Wouldn't make much of a Sand Walker if it was easy."

"Sand Walker" was a term used out here in the Outlands to signify a hunter who traveled the desert alone. Without the aid of a group, they ran across the desert from town to town taking on work wherever they could. Not really part of any organization, nor having any base of operations, they were hunters who valued the solitude of the desert. Each had their own reasons for the life they chose, but without a doubt they were skilled.

"True enough, I have a job for you."

"What?"

"A mutual acquaintance needs the help of someone like you."

"Why?"

"Have you heard about the recent unrest with the White fang?"

"Bombed a train or something, didn't they?"

"It was a dust train."

Pausing slightly, the man spoke again:

"I'm assuming the dust is now gone?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

"10,000 tons"

The man choked slightly on his drink.

"You see the problem?"

"Yeah. What do you want me to do?"

"There have been dust robberies in Vale too, and my organization would provide most generously if you were to investigate them."

"And when I do find the culprit?"

The man chuckled slightly.

"You misunderstand- we're not hiring you to find the culprit. We know who he is. We want you to find what this stolen dust is going to be used for. The man conducting the robberies in Vale is Roman Torchwick, who we have reason to believe is working for someone. We want you to search for clues to where the dust is being transported and why."

"How do you suggest I do that? A Sand Walker wandering around Vale isn't exactly going to be inconspicuous."

"Why you won't be wandering around as a Sand Walker. You'll be a student at Beacon of course!"

"..."

The other man merely smiled.

"We need a cover for you. Given that you're relatively young age, you could fit in as one of the academy's potential students. You won't be perceived as a real threat as another Hunter, since you are relatively unknown and you have the skills to protect yourself should anything untoward happen. Really, the perfect cover. My associates will provide the correct documentation and you'll get in just fine."

Shock would probably be the best way to define how Jaune was feeling right now. Controlling himself, he spoke with a slight edge to his voice: "What do you mean young?"

The other man smirked. "Oh, come now Jaune Blanc- you didn't think we would know nothing about you before we chose to hire you?"

Gritting his teeth, Jaune glared at the bemused man. This effort was made somewhat less effective by the cloth that covered his face.

Continuing, the other man stated "So what do you say, Mr. Blanc? Up for a bit of good old-fashioned espionage?"

Sighing heavily Jaune asked "Alright. If the pay's good, I'll do it."

Smiling happily, the man picked up his bottle: "Wonderful! I have a feeling this will be the start of an amazing partnership."

"Can I at least have your name first?" Jaune asked, clinking glasses with the other man.

"Ah! My name is Qrow Branwen."

Author's Note: Edited for grammer