The Ranger

So I had this small plot idea going through my head while I was playing a few video games. It draws inspiration from Lord of the Rings and Fallout: New Vegas, with the single similarity, the existence of a badass group called the Rangers. And I thought, 'What if the lovable blond idiot of RWBY was one of them?' I now present to you the pilot chapter of Arc Ranger, that seeks to answer this question.

I do not own RWBY, Fallout, or Lord of the Rings; they are owned by Rooster Teeth, Bethesda, and the Tolkien House respectively.

Ozpin's Office

"So, we are in agreement then?" A man with silver hair, brown eyes, spectacles, and a green and black suit on asks. This man is Professor Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon Academy, and one of the strongest monster hunters aka Huntsman, in the world of Remnant. He was currently speaking with an armored young man in his office, the inner workings of a clock tower ticking around them. "You accept your contract?"

The man only nodded. While Ozpin was sitting behind his desk, the man was standing in an eased military stance. He was tall, about 6'1, had on a black duster, turtleneck undershirt, fingerless gloves, faded cargo pants, and combat boots. A stark contrast to his white greaves, vambraces, cuirass, and pauldrons. On the jacket lapel, the left side had a small red star, and the right had the name 'Aegis' stitched into it. He had a helmet clipped to his waist that looked to be an amalgamation of a combat helmet and gas mask, also black, with red lenses. While he was not overly armed, a holster could be seen on his right hip and a sword scabbard ran parallel to his left forearm, the hilt coming just short of his wrist. A bandolier stretched from his left shoulder to his right waist and had several spare rounds on it. On his pauldrons, written in red, were numbers. His left had the number '17' while his right had '01.' With his face in full view, Ozpin took a good look at him. He had short, messy blond hair, deep sapphire blue eyes, and a small scar on his left cheek. He couldn't have been older than eighteen.

"I accept my contract," the young man spoke. His voice was still in the tenor range, despite his size. "Strange as it is, this will be my first long term mission, I aim to please. However, Rangers aren't so usually open, will I need to hold myself back?"

Ozpin smiled. "It will be unnecessary to be undercover," he stated to the now designated Ranger. "I wouldn't want to hinder you in your contract. But please don't rough the students up too much." The Ranger nodded again. "Very well then. As Headmaster, I believe I shall be the first to welcome you to Beacon mister…"

"Jaune Arc. Designation: Aegis." He introduced with a bow. Ozpin smiled. "Now, I must warn you, the rest of my gear is to be airdropped in. Is there any way to clear a drop zone? I wouldn't want anyone to get crushed by a giant crate."

"I can clear a place. Though are these drops going to be a common occurrence?" The Headmaster raised an eyebrow.

"They'll be whenever I need something special that I usually won't have. Which is uncommon, but when I need it, they'll have it to me fast." Jaune shrugged.

Ozpin sighed. "Very well, I shall give the craft clearance for whenever it is in the airspace. You may now go meet your peers at the landing docks." With that, Jaune bowed again and walked to the elevator at the end of the large office, showing off the four pointed star on his back in red, the point going downwards going further out than the rest. Ozpin turned in his chair, facing out the large window. "Arc, how very interesting."

Beacon Courtyard (Jaune's POV)

I walked out the door, only to reel back as an explosion of fire, ice, and lightning erupts in front of me. Rolling into a kneeling firing position, I draw my large black revolver with gold filigree, a gold star embedded into the wood grip, the same as the one on his jacket. On the barrel of the weapon, the words 'For Honorable Service' and 'Against All Tyrants' were engraved. This is every Ranger's pride and joy, The Ranger Sequoia.

Realizing I was not under attack, I quickly holstered the revolver and walked over to the source of the commotion. Two girls coming into view, one in black and red Gothic Lolita style with a red cloak with black hair with red highlights, and the other, a pale white-haired girl in a white bolero jacket and combat skirt with heels. I instantly recognized the latter and groaned inwardly. 'A Schnee,' I thought. 'Just what I needed today.' The former looked familiar, but it didn't ring any bells.

"I'm really, really sorry!" The first girl apologized. It seems a Dust explosion had been the cause of the disturbance. By fault of the her.

"Ugh! You complete dolt!" The Schnee berated her. "What are you even doing here? Aren't you a little young to be attending Beacon?"

"Well, I-I…" The girl stuttered.

"This isn't your ordinary combat school. It's not just sparring and practice, you know! We're here to fight monsters, so... watch where you're going!"

The unnamed girl was finally fed up. "Hey, I said I was sorry, princess!" She snapped.

"It's heiress, actually." A girl in black and white with purple gradient leggings and a bow atop her long raven hair. I was aware that Belladonna was here, but she is going to freak out. She was holding a vial of Burn Dust in her hand. "Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, one of the largest producers of energy propellant in the world." She introduced the white-haired girl.

"Finally, some recognition!" The now named Weiss huffed. Time to burst her bubble.

"The same group that hates literally anyone who isn't made of money, uses controversial labor forces, and questionable partners." I said, trudging up to the three girls. Seeing the star on my lapel, they recognize me instantly for my profession. The first girl, still unnamed, gazed at me star struck with silver eyes. Filing that bit of information for later, I turn to Weiss glaring at me hatefully. And Belladonna has already ran off; terrorists, former or otherwise, usually don't do well in the presence of Rangers. I faintly regarded the vial she dropped as she exited the situation.

"At least I'm not a good for nothing mercenary with no morals or allegiance and a stolen fortune!" The heiress retorted. She refers to the Rangers' primary funding, the last King of Vale, after the Great War, gave a good sum of his fortune to his bodyguards, the first of our ranks.

"You really shouldn't talk of stolen fortunes being the daughter of Jacques Schnee," I smirked at the insult. She only glared at me with those ice blue eyes, before turning around, grabbing the vial off the ground and stomped off, grumbling at my presence.

I turned to the remaining girl who was still looking at me funny. "Hey," I waved a hand in front of her face. "You ok?" At this she shook her head and screamed in delight."

"Oh my gosh! Are you really a Ranger?!" She asked, gazing at the lapel. "Do you have any cool weapons? Does your armor actually have camo units? Can you really track a Grimm that hasn't been there in weeks? Is it true you can beat fully trained Huntsmen? Do you really have powered helmets? How many Grimm have you killed? Is it true they drop you into the middle of a Grimm horde and you have to fight your way out? Tell me, tell me, TELL ME!"

To my credit I was only taken aback somewhat. Some of the stuff she asked was true. Some wasn't. I put my hand over her mouth before I sighed and just figured we would try introductions. "Hi, my name is Jaune Arc. Yes, I am a Ranger. What's your name?"

I let off my hand and she took a deep breath before laughing shyly, "Sorry about that. I've heard so many stories about you guys. You guys are the epitome of cool. I mean, being a Huntress is cool and all, but you guys have all that awesome gear and… I'm rambling again, aren't I? Errr… I'm Ruby, Ruby Rose."

My eyes widen a bit at that name, before my shoulders droop at where I had heard the name before.

The Rose Retrieval.

I shake my head at that memory and return my focus to the young girl. "Nice to meet you Ruby. As for some of your questions, how do you know some of that stuff? The Grimm horde isn't true, but a lot of your yes or no questions are accurate." I inquired.

Ruby perked up. "Oh, my Uncle Qrow told me all this stuff." She smiled cutely.

At the name, I burst into laughter, much to her confusion. "Wait, wait, wait. Qrow Branwen is your uncle?!" I gasped out. "He and my mentor are drinking buddies!"

"Really?" she asked. I nodded. "That explains a lot, actually." I could only nod at that statement. "So… I have this." Ruby then whips out a huge ass scythe in red and black. I couldn't help but notice the firing mechanism and the length of the magazine.

"Is that a scythe with a sniper rifle?" She nods. "I'm gonna guess .308?" She nods, a little more surprised. "Pffft. Weak." I mock jokingly.

She looks at me in a mix of shock and offense. "How dare you mock my baby! What about you? Why does using a .308 make her weak?" I respond by tossing her a spare cartridge for my long range choice. "Is this a .50 caliber?" She asks in awe.

"You wanna see what shoots it?" I smirk, getting a series of nods. I look to my right forearm, placing my left thumb at the base of the up-armored gauntlet, and it flips open to reveal my scroll and a series of switches, my armor's DCC or Diagnostic and Camo Control. Seeing I had a message, and knowing exactly what it was, I hit the small red switch and activated my PINGR (Personal Integrated Neural Graph Reader) essentially a life monitor and tracking beacon, sending the message to give me the drop. I tell Ruby to stand back and watch as a black bullhead flies overhead, dropping off the weapons resupply crate, or as the Rangers call it, the toybox.

The black crate with the white four-pointed star of the Rangers emblazoned on it falls only two feet in front of me. Looking around I beckon the small girl over as I reach forward, placing my hand on the star, and hear four distinct clicks as the locks release. I pull open the toybox, to show Ruby the first layer of gear. "Look, but don't touch." I warn, only to get a pout for a reply. Inside, encased in a form silhouette, was a scoped Anti-Materiel Rifle with the barrel disconnected, five magazines for it, various grenades, and other goodies.

"OH MY GOSH!" She screams.

"I call her, Spitfire." I say with an air of finality. "Because of the high explosive rounds I usually use with her. The sword on my arm is a family heirloom, called Crocea Mors. The scabbard transforms into a heater shield, I have various knives and pistols, and the pride of the Rangers, my Ranger Sequoia." I draw said revolver and hand it to Ruby. She looks closely at it in pure happiness, before giving it back to me.

"What about you armor?" She asks like a kid at Christmas.

"You are correct in the armor having various camo patterns, the reason they can change color is classified though." She pouts again. "But the helmet has an integrated comm link, air filter, and three separate vision systems: Night, Infrared, and a special Ranger Vision. Can't tell ya about that last one just yet," I explain. "The colors are of a Ranger's choosing, but the gear is standard." While I am telling her all this, I snap the toybox shut, activate the Gravity Dust, and let it float about a foot and a half off the ground. We then began to walk to the front entrance.

"What are the numbers for?" She asks.

"Right is Division number, Left is Operative Number. Easy Identification on the battlefield." I stated simply. "Now I believe you are going to be late to the welcome ceremony. I need to get these into the weapons lockup." I said, patting the floating crate. "I'll see you later."

"Oh, ok. Bye Jaune!" She waved happily. I merely waved back and turned the other way.

As I walk to the lockup, I remember how it got to this point, and that fateful night, twelve years ago, meeting the man who saved his life, and gave him a new one, his mentor.

Ansel, Twelve Years Ago

As a five year old Jaune wanders the still burning streets, he looks around in utter fear. Why did this happen? Where was his parents? Is there anyone left alive?

As he passes his home, he can't even find the will to walk anymore. He collapses into the street and breaks down into sobs. Why did Momma tell him to run, he could've helped. Then at least he wouldn't be alone. As he cries, a snarling creature comes from behind him. A stray Beowulf, looking for its next morsel. Jaune doesn't even respond. What's the point? At least he'll see Momma again.

As the Grimm pounces, Jaune waits for the pain, but it never comes. Looking around, a man in a grey duster and green armor stands tall in front of him, a longsword in his hand. He kneels down and takes off his helmet, showing dark shaggy hair, flecked with grey, and grey eyes. "Hello little one." He says in a calming voice. "Where are your parents?" Jaune only looks down. "I see, well, would you like to come with me?"

Jaune looked up in happiness. Nodding profusely, he introduces himself. "I'm Jaune Arc!"

The man only smiles. "I'm Aaron, but you can call me, Strider."

ANNNNND DONE! This is my first Jaune centered story and I just wanted to see how the initial reactions to it would be. Please rate and review. Also: Pairings are undecided, if you catch my drift.

This is Theothergy (The-Other-Guy) signing off!