Six took a swig from his canteen as he stood atop the amphitheater stage with the rest of the staff. They'd been summoned to sit here and wait for the students to arrive, and he was already growing bored. Boone looked utterly unfazed by this, but that was to be expected from a sniper with years of experience. Six would rather be out in the city, setting up an ambush for the Outlaw before he fled to the wilderness. If that happened, they'd be back at square one with him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the double doors being pushed open, a wave of fresh students coming in. The vast majority of them had bright and happy faces as they walked in, eyes filled with hope and determination. Considering what they were getting themselves into, that disturbed him a little. As the students filed in, Six kept an eye out for the blonde dumbass from the night before. She looked to be the right age to attend here, and if she recognized him, that'd definitely complicate things. After enough students came in, Ozpin approached the stand and began his speech.

"I'll keep this brief." He began, and Six immediately tuned out. He was still scanning the crowd for blondie, but no luck. Didn't exactly help the floor looked like a god damn rainbow because of all the bright outfits. Seriously, what happened to just being practical? This was a combat school, not a fashion competition. He saw one kid with light plate armor and a mace, so at least he looked ready for combat. But then, right next to him was someone in a skirt. That one wouldn't last long, he was sure of it.

"For those of you from the previous year, I'm sure you have noticed two new additions to the staff." Boone discreetly nudged his arm as Ozpin brought them up. Oh yeah, introduction. "This is Mr. Six and Mr. Boone. They aren't official staff here at Beacon, as they work for one of our munitions suppliers. They are here to ensure those munitions aren't being misused by the school, as well as providing extra security due to their military background." Ozpin moved to the side and indicated for one of them to say something. Since Boone wasn't one for talking, Six went ahead.

"Don't really have much to say. Just don't bother us while we're on the job, and we'll get along just fine. That's about it." With that very brief message, Six stepped back, and Ozpin took his place. He heard some of the kids whispering, probably something about their armor or Boone's helmet, which he was still wearing. He honestly didn't care. It wasn't like he was a teacher there or nothing.

After Ozpin informed the kids they were sleeping in the theater for the night, the staff left through the backdoor. Once they were out in the halls, Ozpin stopped the armored pair.

"I was surprised by how short your speech was. I would be lying if I said I wasn't expecting something about being responsible." The headmaster said, making Six laugh slightly.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't give a damn what the kids here think of me. I'm just here to do your fieldwork, at least for now. Hey, speaking of which, how's ED-E coming along?" Six turned the tables on him. Ozpin showed no adverse reaction to the sudden question, but that didn't put Six at ease.

"We're working on it. You were right; the inner circuitry is nearly beyond repair. If we do manage to repair him, we can't promise he won't go through the same reset Fenrir did." Six eyes widened slightly, but not because of ED-E.

"Oh shit, that reminds me. You know those rocket lockers the kids use for their gear?" Ozpin squinted his eyes in slight suspicion, unsure of where this was going.

"Yes, what of it?"



Six and Boone entered their quarters, the former with a dumb smile on his face.

"I can't believe you managed to convince him," Boone said as he took his helmet off.

"I can't either! But, at least he's given me the go-ahead to turn Fenrir into a glorified rocket." Six chuckled as he sat down at the kitchen table, Boone across from him. "But enough of that. What's the plan for taking down Outlaw?"

"Our best bet is to stake out the warehouse he's in until he leaves. Since Ozpin wants him alive, once he's on the move, we'll need a special gun so we can hit him with a knockout dart of some kind. I doubt he'll have his Aura up while he's not in combat, so we can take him by surprise." Boone proposed.

"Solid plan. If the bastard's got backup with him, we can take care of them easily enough, but we'll have to wait until he's away from groups of people to avoid any innocents getting caught in the crossfire. Once he's alone and unconscious, we can restrain him with some good old-fashioned handcuffs before having Ozpin pick us up via Bullhead. Then we can focus on the Thief." Boone hummed in thought.

"You think he's from Earth?" Six shrugged at the question.

"He's got a pip-boy, so I'm fully expecting it. Either that, or he took off someone else. Either one's possible at this point." They were about to continue, but Six's head whipped to the door when he heard someone whispering. "Someone's eavesdropping." As soon as he said this, the sound of hurried footsteps came through the door. Six immediately drew his revolver and sprinted for the door, throwing it open. Looking down the right hallway, he just barely managed to catch a flash of yellow rounding the corner before the eavesdropper disappeared out of sight. He growled in annoyance, having a good guess as to who it was.

"You see who it was?" Boone asked, his tone ever calm.

"Not directly, but I saw their long blonde hair go around the corner. I can hazard a guess who it was." He holstered his gun, turning back through the door. "That damn girl is gonna be a pain in my ass; I just know it."

"The blonde kid from the club? If she's going to be a problem, we should tell Ozpin." Six waved off the idea.

"Nah, we can handle ourselves. If she starts making trouble for us, I'll track her down and have a chat with her. Can't exactly blame her, I did threaten a crowd of people to get her to leave." With that done with, they sat back at the table, though Six was paying particular attention to the door if she decided to return.

"Do you have a backup plan if we can't take him down with the dart gun?" Boone asked.

"Yeah, beat him into submission. From what I can tell, the only weapon he uses is that big old revolver of his. That limits his options, but it also tells me he might be extremely skilled with it, so watch yourself if he tries going for you. Other than that, you just pepper him with shots while I take him on up close. We keep going until he either surrenders or hits the ground and doesn't get back up." Boone nodded before standing up and making his way to his room. He was going to check over his gear one last time before he headed out. Six would make the rifle and darts himself with the materials they had, along with his chems, while Boone went to watch the warehouse. Once Six was done, he'd deliver it to his partner before taking position.

It was time to take down the Outlaw.


It'd been two weeks. Two goddamn weeks and the Outlaw hadn't made a single move. The only development was a prisoner being taken in, then leaving a day later chopped up and in garbage bags. They were undoubtedly brutal. The pair were split up a fair distance, though their radios were still within range of each other. Boone was back at his post on top of the building he'd been on when he initially discovered the Outlaw's location. Six, on the other hand, was much closer.

Six was stationed directly on the roof of the building. The many times he'd climbed up and down the building had made for excellent practice, and he could now ascend and descend the building entirely silently. He promised Boone he'd teach him once they were done with this contract and had the time for it.

So far, the blonde girl, whose name he'd learned was Yang Xiao Long, hadn't made too much trouble for them. They'd missed Initiation and the teams being formed on account of having more important things to do, but from the footage Ozpin had sent them both, the girl was impressive with her fists. She definitely would've put up a helluva fight at the club, and he doubted if he would've been able to take her on without Boone for support. So far, the only time they'd seen her was when she had been caught spying on them the first day of their stakeout, only for Boone to scare her off. Neither had seen her since.

But it was her partner, the Faunus, Blake, that had Six worried. Unlike the rest of their team, she was specialized in stealth. He didn't know just how specialized, but he'd been able to sniff out the imposter engineer during Kimball's speech, so he doubted she'd be able to tail him without him knowing.

One good thing to happen over the past few weeks was Six finished upgrading Fenrir. The giant Sentry Bot was now capable of being deployed from Beacon to anywhere within the city extremely fast thanks to the jets installed into his legs. He would lock on to the signal from Six's pip-boy, then just go from there. Six'd also given him another upgrade but wanted to keep it a surprise until they got to use him. As Boone watched over the area, Six came over the radio.

"Hey, I've got movement inside the warehouse. Looks like our target is getting ready to move out. He's currently in his office, I'll let you know when he's leaving."

"Gotcha. I'll tag him on your mark." Six confirmed this, and they both waited for the Outlaw to leave.


Wilson sat at the old desk, covered in the dust he hadn't given enough of a shit to clean off. He removed his bandana, revealing his somber look. Not the kind of look you'd expect from him, but it wasn't the job that had him this way. He pulled out his revolver and looked it over. It was a powerful thing, capable of piercing most body armor in one shot, maybe two if the victim was lucky. But above all that, it was a reminder—a constant reminder of his fuckup.

"Ten years." He spoke, his voice soft and sad. He was alone and unafraid of anyone eavesdropping. All these White Fang fucks had seen what happened the last time someone tried. "Ten years, and I missed you every day of it, Eli. Your smile, your laugh, the way you'd reign me in every time I began to lose my temper." He chuckled, a small smile on his lips. "And you were the only guy able to drink me under the table. And the way you managed to calm down little Mary whenever she woke in the middle of the night, crying from a nightmare. If I weren't any smarter, I'd think it was magic. Today would be her 17th birthday." His smile faded away.

"I should've been there. It should've been me, not you and Mary. I'm the evil bastard here. I should be rotting in the ground right now. You and little Fire-Head should still be alive and well, moving on without me. It's not fair." The grip on his gun tightened. "All because I can't keep my fucking mouth shut." One bullet. That's all it'd take, and he'd be able to see them again, even for only a moment before being cast into the deepest pit of whatever hell existed. These thoughts fired through his head as he found himself staring down the barrel of the loaded gun—just one trigger pull.

After what felt like a lifetime, he slammed the gun on the desk, kicking up dust before standing and donning his mask, his sadness replaced by cold anger.

"Forged in fire, tempered by blood." He recited the mantra of the Fallen Ones, the group of bandits he'd joined not long after his family's death. They had taught him to be strong, to look out for nobody but himself. They'd taught him the true cruelty of the world, that if you wanted something, you'd have to take it. They'd also helped him track down the ones that'd killed Eli and Mary. The day he and his boys stormed their little hideaway is a day he'd always hold near and dear to his heart, second only to the day he and Eli and taken in little Mary.

"The day I die will come, but it won't be today, and not by my hand." He took off his metal armor and military scrubs before donning a plain-looking black hoodie and jeans. He picked up his gun before tucking it away in his waistband, out of sight. Despite its size, he knew how to hide it well.

"Time to earn my fucking pay." He said as he exited the office.


"He's on the move." Six reported as the Outlaw left the warehouse. He was wearing casual clothes, and Six couldn't see his gun, but he knew it was still on him. He was also still wearing his bandana, so at least that was consistent.

"Waiting on your signal," Boone replied. Six's plan was to wait until they were out of earshot from the warehouse before Boone would sedate him and they'd bring him in. It'd also be good because the White Fang in the warehouse would be out of range to hear the gunshots should a fight break out, thus cutting him off from reinforcements.

As the Outlaw walked away, Six silently descended the building and began following him. His body language expressed increased agitation, indicating something happened before he left. It also meant he was distracted, focused entirely on the mission and not on the man stalking him from the shadows.

Once they were far enough away from the warehouse, Six did a quick scan of the area. There were a few homeless people, but they'd scatter as soon as any shooting started and were unlikely to call the police. For all intents and purposes, the area was clear.

"Fire." Six said quietly. There was no audible confirmation, but that came in the form of a white dart embedding itself in the Outlaw's neck. He stumbled and grunted in surprise before quickly wrenching the small dart out of his jugular. He stared in confusion before he began to struggle to stand. The sedative was fast-acting and for a good reason.

"We've been tracking you for a good bit now." Six said as he exited cover, no longer deeming him a threat. "Now, just come peacefully, and it'll all be fine." He sluggishly turned around to look at him, and his eyes were beginning to droop.

"N-no." He stammered. His look of confusion began to morph into anger as he reached for something in his pocket. And before Six could realize what was happening, the Outlaw withdrew a familiar-looking syringe. Six's eyes widened upon realizing it was a Psycho syringe.

"Let's give this a shot." He slurred before slamming it into his arm. Almost immediately, his drowsiness disappeared and was replaced by sheer rage. He screamed in anger before drawing his revolver and opening fire on Six, who was forced to duck behind one of the warehouse walls. He felt one of the bullets hit his leg, and he felt it even through the armor. He was lucky it was a glancing shot, as a direct hit would've probably penetrated the steel plating.

"Fucking kill!" He yelled, continuing to fire. Once the shooting had stopped, Six waited a second before emerging with Medicine Stick drawn, ready to fire. Only to be met by the Outlaw's fist slamming into his face with the force of a freight train, knocking him on his back and cracking his right lens. Psycho was a powerful chem, but it didn't increase your strength to that degree. No, it had to have been mixed with Buffout or something similar.

"I'll tear out your spine!" He roared as he picked him up by the arm and threw him against the wall. Luckily, Boone had finally loaded the real bullets, and as the shot rang out, a small explosion made the Outlaw raise his arm as his Aura flared. Boone had made the wise decision to bring explosive rounds.

The Outlaw turned his attention to Boone and raised his revolver, taking a single shot. A shot that hit Boone in the shoulder. His armor held, but the force of the impact was enough to make his entire right arm numb.

"Ah, fuck! He hit my shoulder!" Six heard over the radio. This bastard managed to nail Boone from this distance with a revolver? Shit, he was better than he thought; he'd have to take him down fast.

Quickly getting up, Six tackled the gunman from behind while he was busy lining up another shot. He fired a shot into his head, and his Aura flared from the hit. The Outlaw grunted in pain before elbowing Six in the head and throwing him over. He was about to pin him to the ground, but another shot from Boone knocked him back, allowing Six to stand.

"Fucking coward, fight me yourself!" He yelled. Six aimed his rifle and unloaded everything into his chest, almost point-blank, focusing on bringing this beast down. His AWC rounds blasted against him, making him stumble back. The second to last shot was too much for his Aura, and it shattered under the pressure, but Six didn't notice in time. He let loose the final bullet, and it blew through his chest, splattering the wall behind him with blood. The Outlaw's eyes widened, and he dropped his gun, his hand going to his chest.

"Ah, shit!" Six cursed as he realized his mistake. He slung Medicine Stick over his shoulder and ran to the man they were supposed to be taking alive. He stumbled backward, his back hitting the wall before he slid down it, leaving a trail of blood behind. He coughed messily as he struggled to breathe, the adrenaline from the chem beginning to wear off.

"Fuck, guess today really is the day." He said, his voice husky from the bullet to the lung.

"You're not dying today, you piece of shit. My boss still needs you. Boone! You've got the meds, get your ass down here!" He had given the medical supplies to Boone because he didn't want to slow himself down. He figured he could just treat his own wounds once the fighting was over, but he wasn't expecting having to treat the Outlaw's. He cursed himself for his carelessness as he tried to staunch the heavy bleeding.

"The shit Rick gave me was insane. Wish I'd used it more before." He must've been talking about the chem he'd taken. Whoever this Rick guy was, they'd have to track him down after this. His breathing began to slow as the blood loss took effect, his eyes once again drooping as he stared at something in the distance.

"Mary? That you, baby girl? Don't worry, daddy's coming home. Everything'll be alright." He mumbled as his hands fell to his sides, and he fell unconscious. Right then, Boone ran up behind Six and tossed him a Stimpack, who caught it expertly. He immediately slammed it into his chest, hoping it wasn't too late for him. After a second of nothing, the gapping wound began to stitch itself back together slowly, and the Outlaw's breathing began to stabilize. Six let out a sigh of relief as it no longer looked like he was on the verge of death. The Stimpack wouldn't be enough, but it would keep him stable until they returned to Beacon, where Ozpin could set him up in the infirmary.

"Boone?" He started.

"Already called the Bullhead. It'll be here in ten minutes."

"Alright." He said tiredly. The pain from the fight was starting to rear its ugly head now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off. His mechanical spine prevented any severe damage, but him getting slammed against the wall that hard still hurt like hell. He was surprised to hear the sounds of a Bullhead incoming, as they should still be a fair way's away by now.

"Hey, didn't you say they wouldn't be here for another while?" He asked.

"Yeah," Boone confirmed as he reloaded his rifle and turned his attention to the sky. "I did." Right then, the flying transport in question appeared over the buildings; the White Fang logo was painted on the side.

"Oh, you're fucking kidding me." Six groaned. He quickly injected himself with some Med-X to numb the pain and allow him to fight. Boone took a shot at the cockpit, but the glass must've been reinforced as it didn't penetrate. It landed, and the bay doors opened, allowing the Fang to open fire on them, forcing them to take cover behind some large shipping crates.

"Get the Outlaw, we'll keep them pinned!" They heard someone shout.

"That's way too many for us to take on ourselves," Boone said. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"What'd you think?" He said sarcastically before hitting a button on his pip-boy. A large message appeared momentarily.


Six peeked out of cover and picked off the two guys going for the wounded criminal before ducking back as a bullet pinged off his helmet. But as he had been peaking, he could've sworn he saw someone else in the Bullhead, someone wearing some kind of glowing clothing. Pulling out a grenade, Boone pulled the pin and tossed it over the side of the container, a loud blast and screams of pain ringing out.

"Brace yourself!" Six shouted as Fenrir neared in a ball of fire. He hit the ground dead center of the Fang group, kicking up massive amounts of dust. Clicks and whirrs could be heard as he entered combat mode, his guns ready to go. By the time the dust cleared, the White Fang was met with a combat robot the likes of which they'd never seen before.

"Unit Fenrir deployed." His minigun began revving up. "Your death has come." He unleashed hell upon the terrorists, roasting those that got too close with his flamethrower and mowing down everyone else with his minigun. They fired back, but the bullets did little more than leave scorch marks on his thick reinforced steel armor. The Faunus, realizing how fucked they were, attempted to evacuate to the Bullhead and get the hell out of there. And while they did make it back, the ground was now littered with White Fang corpses, riddled with bullets and burned to a crisp, not to mention one of the turbines was smoking due to taking more than a few stray bullets.

"Holy shit." Bone said, stunned.

"Ha! I fucking knew it'd work!"

"All hostiles neutralized. Scum successfully cleansed." The minigun slowly revved down as Fenrir exited combat mode. Once the Bullhead arrived, they could transport him back to Beacon along with everyone else. Then they could repair what minor damage he'd sustained and restock his munitions.

"Hot damn, I'd call that a successful mission." Six said, clearly proud of himself.

"I doubt Ozpin will be pleased when he hears about Fenrir's massacre." Boone pointed out, but Six didn't seem to care much.

"Bah, don't worry about it. They're just a bunch of terrorists. Nobody's gonna be crying over them." Boone looked at him before shrugging and reloading his sniper rifle.

"Guess we should just wait until transport gets here."

Fenrir got a few upgrades, what do you think? I'm proud of it. I also decided to give the Outlaw, aka Wilson, some backstory. A father who lost his husband and daughter to some unknown threat before becoming a bandit and taking his anger out on the world. Didn't want him to be just another faceless thug who's evil for evil's sake.

MemeMasterAssBlaster: No comment.

selfishgecko: They're understanding to a point. Allowing a 15-year-old like RWBY into the school would definitely be beyond that point.

Monster King: Great.

Guest #1: It's non-canon, so no.

VGBlackwing: At one point, yes. But as of this moment, he's going off his ammo reserves, of which there is quite a lot of.

blueassassin996: Who knows.

Guest #2: I want to continue it, as it's one of my favorite fics to write, but I don't know how to continue it. It feels like I'm just dragging it on for the sake of not wanting to end it, but I'm slowly getting there. So, I will be continuing it, it'll just take me a bit to get back into the swing of writing it.

Nantono: Great.

That's it for now. I hope you liked the bit of backstory I gave Wilson.