I really have a problem. I need a way to quell my imagination so I can stop coming up with story ideas. If you have noticed I deleted my RWBY story "A Hero's Ascension" and replaced it with this one to go along with my other more popular one. Now in fairness, this idea was inspired by and generated after reading the story "Solipsism" by wahs96, which I highly recommend reading. I wanted to try my hand at a RWBY OC story, but we'll see where this goes. I already got a skeleton of the story made and what I want to do with it. Possibly 25 chapters at the most. Anyway, let's get to it.

Italic: Thoughts/Letters/Journal Entries/Flashbacks/

The uniformed man rubbed his exposed neck tenderly and hissed under his breath. That's what came with being caught under the harsh sun day in and day out. Sun, gusty winds, sandstorms, and nothing but sand.

Sand. Just thinking about that small, coarse and gritty material made him uncomfortable. It got everywhere and no matter how hard you tried to brush it off, it clung to everything it could and stuck to it. Much like it did to the convoy as it continued its steady pace down the road.

The specialist licked his dry, cracked lips and ducked out of the turret and back inside the HMMWV. He brought his canteen up to his lips and guzzled down whatever remained inside of it. It only made his parched throat ache more.

"The heat too much for you, Blackburn?"

Blackburn turned his attention to the source of the voice and could see the eyes of Sergeant Carlson looking back at him through his tinted goggles. He only rolled his eyes and got back into the turret to resume his position on the .50.

The harsh wind grazed his flesh and he grimaced as the sand began to cling to his burnt skin. He squinted through his goggles to try and see down the road. Ahead he was just barely able to make out the overpass and the traffic heading into the city. He pounded his fist on top of the HMMWV's roof.

"Whatcha' got?" Carlson called from the driver's seat.

"Overpass and a shitload of cars!" Blackburn answered back.

"How bad?"

"Backed up like you were the other night."

"Fuck yourself."

Blackburn smirked inwardly and kept his hands resting on the grips, ready to squeeze the trigger. As the convoy began to slow down to accommodate for the traffic ahead, his mind wandered off to the mission brief that the LT gave before they stepped off.

Their convoy was to travel down the highway and through Kabul to get to Bagram Air Base. According to their intelligence reports there was increased enemy activity along the highway. More IEDs were being placed along the highway and within the past two weeks there had been seven firefights, all started from ambushes. With that in mind, it added to the specialist's concerns. It was bad enough they were going through a city, but it was worse that they were on a busy highway.

The convoy stopped and Blackburn could see the cause of the traffic backup. Just under the overpass there was a car accident that was blocking the highway.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.

His eyes shifted from left to right, taking in the opposite highway and the ramp to the overpass. No matter which route they took, it would take time to get control of the area to guide the convoy through.

"All vehicles this is Prowler Actual, we will be moving around to the right. I say again, we're moving right to the ramps, over," came Lieutenant Coen's voice.

"Roger. Prowler-One is moving to set up the block, over," said Carlson.

The HMMWV revved loudly as Carlson pressed down on the gas and led it up ramp. When they reached the top, he pulled it to the left side and blocked the entrance of the bridge, garnering angry honks from the cars he cut off.

They were soon joined by Prowler-Two and they blocked the right side to allow a clear path for the rest of the convoy to file through. One by one, each vehicle crossed over the pass and down the ramp bypassing the accident below.

"So what are the chances we'll get attacked on the way to Bagram?" Busch asked.

"You heard the LT. Intel says we have a good chance of getting hit with something," Harvick replied.

"Bro, asking those MI pogs to be right is like asking Helen Keller to whistle."

Blackburn only shook his head, but could not stop the small smirk from spreading across his face. That was one of the many perks that came with being in a line unit. The men had twisted senses of humor that would mortify those who were not familiar with the military and most likely get butthurt, politically correct responses from those that were uncomfortable.

"Prowler-One, Prowler Actual, you are clear to take lead position, over," said Coen.

"Roger." Carlson drove down the ramp and back to the convoy.

The convoy resumed its trek to Kabul and the city grew closer with each passing minute. Each gunner scanned their sectors for any suspicious activity and possible IED locations, but nothing had come up. Much like how the Taliban and al-Qaeda adapted to their strategies, they had to do the same when it came to their biggest killer being IEDs. Years of battle made them wiser with what to expect, but they still managed to hit them with those deadly explosives from time to time.

A whistle met Blackburn's ears followed by a loud boom just fifty meters to his right.

"Incoming!" He hollered.

"Roger!" Carlson gunned the HMMWV, plucking the receiver of his radio from the dashboard. "Prowler Actual this is Prowler-One, we're taking indirect fire, over!"

"Roger that, Prowler-One. Do you have eyes on?" Coen answered.

"Negative. I think it came from somewhere in the city."

"Roger. Keep pushing through, over."

"Roger that. Out."

Carlson floored the HMMWV as fast as it could go to escape the mortars that were zeroing on their location. As they sped towards the city, Blackburn tried to pinpoint an area of interest where the mortars could be set up, but could find nothing. He growled under his breath and spared a quick look to the convoy trailing them and could see nothing but a giant trail of sand billowing behind as they continued down the road.

He turned and saw something on the opposite highway speeding towards them. His fingers resting on the trigger, ready to send a quick burst. He cursed when another mortar landed in front of the HMMWV, making Carlson swerve instinctively.

"Contact left!" Shouted Harvick from below.

A hiss and a snap met Blackburn's ear and he flinched in surprise. The car that soared down the highway towards them had veered around and was now running parallel to them. Inside the beat up car was three insurgents, two shooting, one driving.

"Light them up, Blackburn!" Carlson barked at him.

Blackburn was already ahead of him and aimed the .50 down at the car. What happened next was the last thing he expected. The second he was about to obliterate the car, his brown eyes caught sight of a lone wire beside the insurgent in the backseat.

His mind going a mile a minute, he opened his mouth to shout their IED warning.

"Landslide! Landslide!"

Carlson immediately shifted the HMMWV to go off road and away from the car, but it was not soon enough. A flash of orange light burst beside the HMMWV. The blast made him drop back in the HMMWV instinctively and brace as it began to topple.

The last thing he remembered was the vehicle rolling into the ditch with the entire front of it engulfed in flames.

Blackburn's eyes opened slowly and he could feel his legs dragging across the sand. Looking up he was able to see a blurry figure. His ears continued to ring loudly and he was only able to catch bits and pieces of shouts from others around him.

He winced when he felt his back come into contact with something hard. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the large rock he was dragged behind for cover. He slowly turned his head and was able to make out the face of the one who saved him.

"Harvick?" Blackburn asked.

"Don't move yet! Wait 'till you shake it off!" Harvick kept a firm hand on his chest.

"Where's Carlson and Busch?"

Harvick said nothing and handed his rifle back to him. He then stood up and poked his head out behind cover to return fire.

Carlson and Busch were okay, right? They got out like he and Harvick did, right? Blackburn's face scrunched up in pain when he tried to push himself up. That rollover did a number on him and he could feel sharp, stabbing pains in his arms and legs.

He then peered around the rock like Harvick to see that the convoy was still on the road, but everyone was out of the vehicles and away from the road. Bullets hissed back and forth over the highway. Across the road about six hundred meters away was a hill that was providing the insurgents high ground over the highway. He soon ducked back behind the rock, taking a deep breath as a bullet snapped off of it.

"Jesus!" He was forced to duck again.

"You good?" Harvick asked.

"I just survived an IED. I'm better than good, I'm fuckin' awesome!"

Blackburn fiddled for his radio to contact Coen.

"Prowler Actual this is Prowler-One, we need suppressing fire on that hill!" Blackburn sunk lower behind the rock.

"Negative! There's too many to lay it down effectively!" Coen answered back. "Dig in and hold on! I'm calling in CAS!"

Blackburn cursed loudly and craned his neck out from the rock. He finally spotted the remains of the HMMWV. How he and Harvick survived the explosion and rollover, he had no idea. It did not take a genius to figure out what happened to Carlson. The entire driver's side of the HMMWV was an inferno.

It may have been a trick of the eye, but Blackburn thought he saw something moving near the smoldering remains of their HMMWV. He squinted and this time he was able to confirm it. Below the smoke he could make out a figure garbed in OCP crawling slowly from the wreckage.

"Harvick, I got eyes on Busch!" Blackburn turned to him.

"What?" Harvick looked back in disbelief. "Holy shit."

"We gotta' get him over here."

"You got a plan?"

Blackburn fumbled around his vest and pulled out one of his smoke grenades. He held it up to Harvick who looked hesitant about the idea.

"We're not leaving him out there. Draw fire so I can pop this and I'll go get him," said Blackburn.

Harvick nodded and gave him a quick countdown. He spun up and fired round after round to allow the specialist to deploy his grenade. The second the grenade flew, he felt two shots hit him. One in the arm and the other stunned him as it crashed into his plated vest. He ducked behind the rock to recuperate and the second he did, Blackburn vaulted from behind his cover and bolted for the burning remains of the HMMWV.

Throughout his life, especially since he joined the Army, Blackburn frequently heard the phrase, "Mind says yes, body says no." However it was always in a joking context when he did. It wasn't until his first firefight that he truly realized how sobering the phrase was. You knew what you wanted to do and had to act on it, but your body was anchored with hesitation. The realization that death had you in its clutches gets put into perspective quick when you try to make the right decisions to get out of the whole ordeal in one piece, and it only grows when you see your friends get torn apart.

He was not going to let Busch meet that fate. He and Harvick already failed with Carlson, but he would not let them fail Busch. Deep down he knew it was suicide running head on into enemy fire with no support, and it did not help that his movements felt sluggish. Whether it was from shaking off the rollover or from fear, he did not know.

The tip of his boot grazed the ground and he tripped, landing hard. Sand burst in front of him and danced in the wind before vanishing into the nooks and crevices of his uniform.

He scrambled to his feet and with all the willpower he could muster, managed to break free from the growing sense of dread in his stomach. He was cutting it close. He still had time to turn back and not get torn apart by the bullets whizzing by him.

With a shake of his head, he pressed on and got closer to Busch.

Almost there…

"RPG!"

Blackburn turned and through his dusty goggles he caught sight of a smoke trail coming towards him. Time was closing fast and he had a millisecond to make a decision. He had to move! A foreboding chill went down his spine as he just stared at the projectile racing for him. He had to get to Busch! Think about Busch! Move, damn it! Move!

The ringing that he woke to earlier returned and grew louder and louder to the point it drowned out everything around him. No more bullets. No more shouts. No more explosions. Just endless ringing, and then complete blackness.

Well, there's your introductory chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you thought and I will see you next time when I post again.