Chapter 1: Major Changes
Rivalry between hunting academies were commonplace between student bodies, with each school boasting traits of specific peers or faculty that assumedly raised their credibility as the best academy. Such was the way of adolescents, one would suppose.
Comparisons were made in all echelons of the academies, and that included headmasters. While students typically preferred their respective headmaster, general perspectives did tend to lean one way or another based on unofficial criteria.
One of those criterion was how a headmaster's office looked.
In that regard, Headmaster Ozpin's was by far the most eccentric, with a clockwork motif and echoing chamber, amplifying Oz's voice and presumably, his presence overall. Riding Beacon's elevator to the top floor was considered one of the most disconcerting events that could occur to a student.
Despite the overall consensus of which academy had the best headmaster office, James Ironwood believed that his gray walls and empty room devoid of furniture worked wonders for intimidation. It certainly assisted in keeping the focus between the student and the headmaster, as opposed to a massive clock that never stopped ticking.
No, a lack of distractions was best when having a conversation with a student. Or currently, the reading of a bland scientific paper.
"Due to the long half-life shared with all Dust types, this method of producing energy has been shown to work a small scale, provided that the energy taken is not expelled without purpose. The production of excess energy appears to compromise the vacuum ring, however further experimentation will be needed in order to authenticate this assumption. Simulated projects involving enlarged models intended for kingdomwide energy consumption unfortunately resulted in the cancellation of most gravitational forces at work, and therefore could not be recommended for the production of energy. Alternate models are being hypothesized that could theoretically..."
Ironwood sighed and collapsed slightly in his chair as he tossed the paper stack on his desk carelessly. One of the downsides to being a high ranking general in an army is that all products of said army were issued to you, alongside whoever else it went to.
Including products of the Research and Development division.
Ironwood wouldn't denounce R&D's worth in Atlas' military; it was a joint effort between the general and Polendina's research team that had produced his prosthetics. But for the division responsible for producing robotic sapience capable of aura production, you would think their reports and essays wouldn't be so bland.
Deciding he had been sedentary long enough, Ironwood pushed out his seat and went to pay a visit to the division responsible for taking away his afternoon.
While Atlas had a reputation of being a frigid hellhole that never felt the warmth of light, summer climates could climb to a comfortable 70 Fđ, leaving less of a mystery as to why Ironwood spent most of his school break in Atlas.
James was quickly approaching the second reason why he rarely left.
The laboratory air was a sharp contrast compared to the summer heat paving the outside walkway, the carpet of A/C washing over Ironwood as he stepped through the near-silent automated doors. Metallic clanks echoed through the wide corridor as the general strode towards the Doctor Polendina's workstation.
The Penny Project was all but completed; Penny was able to produce aura, respond to stimuli and move of her own free will. Mostly.
Today was one of many for testing her motor skills.
James heard his footsteps transition from a metallic clunk to a repetitive tink as the floor beneath him became translucent.
The metallic, windowless hallways transitioned into full glass panes lining the perimeter of the laboratory. Seeing as no unauthorized personnel could get inside anyway, the architects decided to improve the lighting of the facility.
There was a chance those architects had overperformed at their job.
One could peer down or up to see floors extending many levels, green-tinted glass panes composing each ceiling and floor as a measure to prevent nausea when peering vertically.
The pellucid hall ended with doors only outlined by chrome handles and hinges hanging from glass panes. Despite not slowing his gait walking through the doors, the noise produced from the general's entrance was negligible compared to the plethora of sounds already present within R&D.
The clacking of keyboards, the whining of mechanical limbs, palaver between scientists...
CRASH! "Ouch!"
Penny's falling over forwards.
Ironwood smiled as he headed down the central staircase to the basement floor, Robotics. Penny's skeletal frame was constructed of maraging steel, and durability testing revealed her structure capable of withstanding over 2.4 giga pascals. Penny was more durable than any huntsman or huntress that lived.
That knowledge didn't prevent Doctor Zenik Polendina from rushing to her side and helping her up. Zenik Polendina possessed a bushy white beard that lead into a horseshoe chevelure, a style iconic with the department to the point of many considering it to be an unofficial logo. He wore his tried and true lab coat, still a pearlescent white after multiple chemical spills, grease stains and over thirty five years of use.
"Penny! Are you alright?" The seasoned scientist knelt down beside Penny's form to offer a hand getting up. Penny took it with a smile.
"I am fine Father," Penny responded, steadying herself, "You designed me to be most durable." Penny brushed her skirt, lightly dusting the air around them.
"That I did." Zenik chuckled, clasping Penny's hands. "That doesn't stop me from worrying about you."
Ironwood slowed his pace in order to give the duo a moment to themselves, taking the time to notice the other scientist on the floor. The only other scientist. Polendina's group for the Penny Project was rather small compared to other project groups. Zenik had a strict quality over quantity policy in the Research and Development division, and in all honesty, he agreed.
When arming oneself against nightmare entities bent on the elimination of Remnant's population, durability of products was preferable to the availability of products. Such quality was only attainable through cooperation and agreement between minds, a difficult thing to come by in large groups.
Still, it was odd to see so many empty floors throughout the facility. Was there some summer holiday he had forgotten about? Ironwood snapped himself from his thoughts and focused on the researcher.
James thought he recognised the face of the scientist, in the same way one remembered remembering something. A visual or trait so specific to a scenario that you had to have come across it before. No name came to mind.
There wasn't any dress code within the R&D department, logic standing that dressing up people in stuffy clothing wouldn't help them make strides in technological advancements. As long as safety protocol was followed, James was fine with personal expression.
As far as clothing went however, James thought the man was pushing for what was expected, even in a lax workspace. Belted jean shorts and a light blue t-shirt were accented by a flat-brim maroon-coloured boonie hat resting on his back from a chin strap around his neck.
While the attire wasn't necessarily unsafe for the laboratory, the man looked as if he had come in from a mountain hike. Neat, short chestnut hair lead into sideburns, with an oily sheen leaving the impression that multiple nights had been spent on work. The only piece of clothing James could find that fit the environment were tennis shoes, and even then they were clearly worn for more than indoor activity.
Despite his attire, the man seemed to be following proper safety protocol, sporting a wide limpid eye visor and blue wrist-length chemical gloves. He was monitoring a large cylindrical glass tank positioned on the waist-high central counter.
Two spheres, each two feet or so in diameter, were submersed in a clear solution, bands of wiring leading out from the lid into the bulky laptop set up beside the tank. Occasionally, the wires, still slack in the liquid, would lean one way or another, leading the spheres to face different sides of the tank.
James supposed it wasn't any weirder than any other project R&D had developedâŚ
Alright, so maybe it was a tad off-putting.
collecting multiple dark, curved panels, the man soon restricted the circumference of the tank access to light, bar a small square window in the front, presumably to be filled by the smaller coloured panels being lain in front of the tank.
Selecting a colour, a panel was fastened into the small window before the lone scientist appeared to perform a once over and return to the laptop.
Curiosity satisfied, Ironwood began heading towards the Polendinas once more, but not without hearing the sharp snaps of gloves being removed and the hum of a computer busy with its program.
Realising he had been staring at the scientist for considerably longer than what could be considered comfortable, James placed his curiosity on the backburner and continued towards the now separated father and daughter.
While Penny Polendina was built partially as an experiment in progressive robotics and partially as a testing ground for experimental weaponry, she ended up becoming Doctor Polendina's child over all else. Seeing as her initial purposes for being built were long since satisfied, Penny stayed among the R&D department as a loved member of the team.
Not to mention she constantly provided data on the learning processes of robotic sapience. The Atlas military was happy with their results, and Zenik Polendina was happy at finally having a family. It was a win win. Zenik looked up from his work with Penny, finally spotting the general.
"James!" Zenik closed the gap between the two, Penny following close behind. "Great to see you finally get out of that dusty office of yours. What brings you here?"
"Oh, I just finished reading the blandest report I've read in awhile, it got me thinking of you." James jabbed back.
Zenik Pollendina adorned a smirk. "Good to see that your time in the military hasn't faded your sense of humor. As for why you're really here, Penny has been working on her stabilization as of late. Do you have a minute?"
"Good afternoon General Ironwood!" Penny addressed the general with her usual enthusiasm. "It is good to finally be moving again after a week of inactivity, I am lucky to have a synthetic musculature that does not atrophy." Penny was a joy to talk to, but James could understand why people could be turned off by her use of vernacular. It was if a child had been combined with a dictionary.
"I think it takes a little longer for muscle to atrophy than a week, Penny." Ironwood turned to see the other scientist coming over to the conversation. He had donned his boonie hat, and although he only looked to be in his late twenties, Ironwood noticed a faint limp in his gait.
"How's your experiment going, Hadean?" Penny stepped towards the younger scientist before stumbling forward.
"Woah!" Hadean braced Penny's shoulders. "I'll get the results in three hours. How are you doing? You seem to be tripping, more so than usual."
Ironwood had to smile at that comment. "As long as we're all here, would you mind introducing me?" Ironwood nodded at Hadean.
"Ah. James Ironwood, Hadean Cambra. Hadean Cambra, James Ironwood." Zenik gestured to Hadean, who ensuring Penny was steady before releasing her shoulders.
"I'm fine Hadean, reallyâŚ" Penny sulked as she was steadied, her form rocking slightly as she stood on her own. "Father and I were just going over my motor skills."
"Well it looks like you could use some help, then. Tripping over your hallux made you look more digitigrade than human." Hadean took a hobbled step towards the general and extended a hand. "Hadean Cambra. I'm sure hearing my name a third time in a row isn't annoying at all. Polly." He directed a stare towards the Doctor. "We're not in a courtroom Zenik, come on."
Ironwood saw Zenik shake his head in amusement and held up his hands in apology. "I'm sorry my methods of introduction are too formal for your taste. Allow me try again." Zenik straightened his back before clearing his throat.
Hadean bit down on a smile. " Ah, actually, Nick, you really don-"
"I hereby decree that a conference between General James Ironwood and roboticist Hadean Cambra can now be officiated. I shall begin by-" Hadean rested an elbow on the counter, one arm akimbo, as he waited to finish his impromptu speech. Penny giggled throughout Zenik's performance.
Ah, they were doing this for Penny. James could recall multiple instances of passion from Zenik regarding research projects. It appeared he now directed his affection towards his family.
"Thank you Doctor! That was absolutely necessary." Hadean gave golf claps with half-lidded eyes. He turned sharply to face James once more. "Terribly sorry you had to sit through our banter. Anything I can help you with?"
"I'd enjoy knowing who you are." The general made to sit along with the others at the lab bench. "I don't recognise you as a member of Doctor Polendina's team."
"I'm not, officially anyway. I assisted in bringing Penny to life. Err, reality." Hadean pantomimed holding an ovular object while he seemingly rotated his palms around it. "I was partially responsible for designing and implementing Penny's neural networks, alongside Polly of course."
James was taken by surprise by that statement. Hadn't Zenik designed Penny's schematics on his own?
The doctor seemed to pick up on Ironwood's thoughts and donned a smirk. "On paper, I was the sole designer for the Penny Project. I just happened to ask for a second opinion from another, er, random coworker."
"How...convenient for the paperwork involved in the controversial project that reimagined how humanity views aura." Ironwood slowly turned towards Mr. Cambra, seeking an actual answer.
'Uh, yeah..." The younger scientist looked in the other direction. "I've been the lead of another project for the past seven years, and the date of Penny Project's success and recognition from the Atlas military coincided with an event of ours. It couldn't be rescheduled, so I suggested I only have offered some 'advice' towards the project rather than directly participate in it."
Well it wasn't treason, and he wasn't a soldier. "What seems to be the problem, Penny?" James offered a smile towards the girl, leaving Hadean's involvement in her creation as excused.
Penny beamed.
General Ironwood had settled into his administrative responsibilities for the evening. With another fall semester for Atlas Academy a few months away, the general's job description involved less martial formalities and moreâŚIronwood sighed into the stagnant office air.
Paperwork.
Academy filings introduced fun activities such as boredom, hoping for the spontaneous combustion of your desk, and taking any and every excuse to get out of dealing with such accursed admittance work.
The office intercom buzzed. James loved his job.
"Come in!" The door opened to reveal Cambra, blue boonie hat now established upon his head, a wheeled suitcase trailing behind him. "Evening General, are you unavailable at the moment?"
Technically, yes. "No, not at all. Please come in." Oh well.
A creak broke the silence as Hadean settled into the chair across from Ironwood. "I've been talking to Polly about coming to you over this, but my impression of you today solidified my decision.
"Does 'this' have to do with your aforementioned project?" Ironwood's question was answered with the loud chick of suitcase latches, revealing piles of written papers, separated by paperclip.
"I have not beenâ" A thud accompanied the stack or folders hitting the desk, which James eyed suspiciously. "âcompletely honest with you on that front." Hadean ran his fingers through different folder tabs before pulling out a group of pages near the bottom. Multiple pen colours were legible in tiny print, failing to follow the guided lines at all, as if the page was the last one the scientist had to work with. Ironwood took the stack and began to make out the heading:
Studies in Dyskaryota Origin, Grimmalia Diversity and Speciation
Oh no.
"When I claimed I was part of another project, I was telling the truth. However, any others affiliated with it have since left the study, as of five years ago."
Ironwood stopped reading over the paper. No wonder he hadn't heard of this man's work. He was trying to find the origins of Grimm. Hadean gave names of his prior coworkers, as Ironwood realized what was being shown to him.
Proposals. Rejected proposals. Proposals for experiments to be performed outside the Kingdom.
"...decided that the project was going nowhere." Hadean finished his reasoning for his compatriots leave, whatever it was. Ironwood had to shut this down. "Having gone through multiple council members with no success, Polly suggested taking the issue of approval toâ"
"No."
Silence followed throughout the office. Hadean adjusted the brim of his hat. "General, I haven't requested anytâ"
"You wish to take an excursion outside the Kingdoms in order to study Grimm." Ironwood pushed the paper back to the scientist. "Such talk is of a suicide mission."
"Study of Grimm is exactly what needs to be done, here General." Hadean straightened his back the best he could, slightly lopsided in doing so. "We currently have a competing top predator, with no common ancestor to any other living species on Remnant. Learning about this threat's origins could lead to this species' defeat."
"And your own in the process." Ironwood sighed. "Information gained in the field is useless if the holder dies before they can return."
"Hunter teams accompanying groups of people is perfectly plausible." Hadean replied. "I see no reason as to why assigning one to a group of scientists wards any doubt."
"Hunters' jobs are too unpredictable to arrange episodic outings with an endeavor that may not even yield anything." A slap was carried by a stuffed manilla envelope hitting the desk.
"Then explain all the free time these hunters had. Taken from the freelance boards for every one of my proposed 'outings'." Hadean crossed his arms with a stoic expression as Ironwood read through the list: availability from any one hunter at all given dates of proposed outings. Hadaen had heard this before. He had planned to hear it again.
He continued. "There is plenty to learn from the Grimm. Their immense decomposition rate, their lucent sclera. Hell, for all we know the Grimm could operate on sort of...I don't know, hive mind mentalityâ"
"The answer is no!" Ironwood snapped. Science done correctly yielded the truth, and the world couldn't know of Salem. Not ever. "I cannot allow you to go through with these investigations, let alone drag others to their deaths! No support can be given to you by the council, myself, or even the R&D department. This idea is too risky."
Hadean Cambra stared down the general of the Atlas military for a good minute before removing his hat and placing his hands on his knees. "In that case, I would like to register as a student of Atlas Academy."
WHAT?!
"The last I checked," The livid researcher clarified. "A hunter's duties allow them free reign over crossing Kingdom borders. Bar approval of the council. I would be unobstructed in my pursuits and be able to provide information of a common enemy."
"You're thirty!" Ironwood exclaimed.
"Thirty-two." Cambra remained stone faced, as if there was nothing wrong with the fact.
"You have no training to be a hunter, no aura, not to mention the limp I've seen you exhibit!" James pushed his chair from his desk as he stood to confront the man. "You wouldn't survive initiation day."
Cambra lacked seven inches compared to the tower of a man, but met the general's eyes nonetheless. "My aura is present. It is simply held at an insufficient level due to my back injury."
Ironwood scowled as he looked over a medical file handed to him. "You have a transverse process fracture on your T8 vertebrae." Ironwood read aloud. "Because of its misalignment, the body has been tricked into attempting to continuously heal it." Ironwood grew irascible. "Hadean Cambra may as well possess no aura at allâHadean, you wouldn't qualify for the military on this alone, not to mention a hunting academy!"
"I'm still willing to try!" Hadean spoke "Nothing else has worked!"
"That's because everything else will end up with you killed! And this angle is no different!" Ironwood threw medical papers to the floor. "You'd think after seven year of failure, you finally get aâ"
"NO ONE ELSE STUDIES THIS." Hadean pushed a finger into the general's chest. "NO. ONE. Despite all the strides we've made in technology over the years, how much do we know about the world's top predator? Not a damn thing. We don't know if they eat, if they sleep, if their territorial. Nothing. And now I come across the general of the Atlas military AND headmaster of Atlas' academy, the one person who should value knowledge and safety over all else, turning down an opportunity to actually find out what we're fighting here."
Hadean began to collect his suitcase, stuffing choice papers into its depth. He left the majority of the stack on James' desk.
"Don't you need these?" James gestured to the tilting tower now present on his desk.
"Keep them. Its clear I need to start from square one. Again." Hadaen strode out of the room faster than Ironwood had seen him move that day.
As quiet retook control over Ironwood's office, and James looked over the column of paper he had been left with, the general noticed a small envelope labeled letter of recommendation. Curiosity peaked, James tore the envelope, revealing a written letter from Zenik Pollendina.
He hasn't stopped pursuing this endeavor after seven years, James. You may not know him, but Mr. Cambra holds a passion for understanding found within few people these days. He will not accept what is told to him without true evidence of fact. He reminds me of myself in that aspect. If he cannot die working with your support, he will die working without it. I beg of you, increase his chances of living, even if its only by the slimmest of margins.
-Zenik Pollendina
Hadean Cambra would either find out the truth about Salem or die trying. Whether Ozpin could accept him as an ally to his cause was yet to be seen, but if he was going down this path anyway, Ironwood might as well send him in the right direction.
James felt the rush of wind catch his face as he pushed his door open, briskly walking to the elevator to catch up to his estranged guest.
A metallic clang could be heard as Ironwood's right hand caught the elevator door.
"Trying to shut me down?" Hadean bristled. "It's been attempted before, and as you can see, it didn't worâ"
"You're not going to stop, are you?" James asked. Hadean seemed surprised as the query, but quickly regained composure. "I'm afraid I'm single hearted on this matter, sir."
"Very well then." Ironwood brought a hand to his face. Was he really doing this? "I suppose if deterring you is impossible, we might as well give you the best odds for success."
"You're allowing me to register to Atlas Academy?" Hadean's suitcase fell to the elevator floor.
"Someone as expressive as you?" Ironwood commented, eyeing the man's hat, boots, general clothing. "You would suffocate in our uniforms. I couldn't see you attending here. I do however, have another academy in mind that might suit your style better."
Hadaen nodded in thanks. "Thank you general. I appreciate this more than you know."
"Its James." Ironwood corrected the scientist. "I have a feeling this won't be the last time we'll be conversing. I look forward to your findings, Mr. Cambra."
"Its Hadean." Corrected the researcher. The elevator was ridden down in content silence. As Ironwood stepped out of the elevator, Hadean called out. "Generâuh, James. I'm perfectly comfortable with going over the details of this on a later date, but I have to know...which hunting academy do you think I would fit in at?"
Ironwood smirked.
High above the rest of Beacon Academy's campus, Ozpin's office was one of grandeur and radiance. The view from the tower was enchanting, enough so that the day's tasks seemed insignificant compared to the morning skyline.
Yet for some reason, today's skyline wasn't as effective as it usually was quelling Ozpin's tensions. It was as if a difference could be felt, in the very air, an element that had not been considered before was coming into play. Ozpin glanced down into his mug.
...He was going to need stronger coffee.
Hello everyone, my "name" is Cambrian Timebomb, and your are reading my first story. If you like what I have written, feel free to comment on what you liked about this story. If you disagreed, disliked or felt an aspect of the story was out of place, PLEASE leave me a comment on what you think I did wrong. I'm not going to improve without any criticism, guys.
I've had this character brewing in my head for about seven months, or at least the finished version of the character. I thought, hey, there aren't many OCs that aren't either hunters/hunters in training or on the older side(Compared to teenagers). I thought that introducing what was basically a civilian into a hunter/huntress environment would be a fun scenario to explore.
I can't guarantee when this will be updated, however I should be able to complete a chapter before that three-month period ends(high standards, I know). Unless I lose an arm or something, I should be able to work on this in my free time. I'm glad I was able to get this up before volume 6!
Alright then, that should be everything. Read you later!