This episode was an odd one to write a remake of, mostly because everything in it is something I either already did or have no intention of doing. In that way, it's going to be the episode most unlike canon.

That's not to say I didn't have a plan going forward. In fact, I had quite a few objectives going into it.

1. Explain what happened to Qrow and Clover, somewhat.

2. Detail some of the weapon upgrades (Qrow and Oscar aren't getting any and I'm specifically saving Ren's for later since he's just getting a new one).

3. Explain in greater detail the Atlesian council system.

Originally, there was a fourth objective, relating to RWBY and their collective familial issues, but I decided to save that for a later time.

As an aside, I'm having the trip to the manor prior to the election. At least, the FIRST ONE! Haha! Plot twist! The first meeting will not be at all like the one in canon since Ironwood, Winter, and Penny aren't even going to be there. It'll just be team RWBY. Should make for some great family drama.

Anyway, I actually like Jacques. I think he's a bad person, but he could be such a good character if he wasn't shafted by political dick measuring. Not the shows- I mean the writers.

I have a number of secondary plans to go in the midst of that, but I won't be explaining them here. I feel that would ruin the fun- my fun, specifically.

Enjoy~


A blaring alarm broke through the pleasant veil of sleep. It was a familiar tone- the default alarm that came with any scroll from the last nine years.

I could have sworn I turned mine off.

Qrow's arm swiped at it blindly, catching the edge and knocking it off the bedside table. With a quiet groan, he slipped his hand to the ground and clicked the alarm off. He rolled back around, snuggling up against the warm body beside him.

Wait...

Red eyes snapped open, meeting the unconscious face of... Some girl. Whew. Worried me for a second, there. He could remember bar hopping with that Ace Ops guy- Clover, he reminded himself- and he'd feared the worst. He couldn't remember the night before, which implied he was more drunk than usual.

Idly, Qrow glanced about the room. A fair amount of clothing was scattered about, mostly the girls. His boots and coat were by the door, his shirt and belt were strewn about randomly, and his pants were still on him. Oddly, his socks seemed to be missing, but he could deal with that later.

Settling back into the bed, Qrow checked out his date. She was clearly a native Atlesian- nobody else could be that pale- but that was the best he could manage. Light brown hair wasn't exactly rare.

Still, he'd scored? Clover wasn't lying about his semblance. That, or he was one hell of a wingman.

A grimace came over him as he recalled his last attempt, but the memory was quickly buried as he drew the covers back over the two of them. The window was still dark, and unless the world decided to end, he was going back to bed.

On cue, the scroll alarm went off again, drawing another groan from him.

Not just him, as it happened, as another sounded from the ground beside his bed.

Did I get two? He dared to hope.

No, nope, nadda... That was a male groan, and he recognized it too.

Clover sat up, clutching his head with one hand as he disabled the scroll entirely. Now that he saw it, the make was far newer than his own. Really glad there was a girl, at least. Not that there was any evidence Clover had been involved. He was still in uniform- albeit with the jacket torn open to reveal a rather surprising lack of abs. Not like I can talk.

"What happened?" the specialist wondered aloud, still clutching his head. Heh, he could remember his first hangover. "We were... We were at the bar, and you made me drink that steaming crap..."

"Hey," Qrow bitched, as was practically tradition. "That was some premium liquor- and I paid for it." Technically, Clover had, but only because he'd stupidly bet on a drinking competition between them. His memory was a little hazy after leaving the first bar, but that part was crystal clear. "What's the alarm for?"

"Huh?" Clover took a moment to process the question before his confused expression became one of panic. "Shit!"

Qrow watched almost passively as he buttoned himself up and arranged his hair with his fingers. "Duty calls?"

"You too!" he shouted, patting himself down. "That was the alarm I set for the Mantle mission."

"The what?"

A look of realization came over him before he glanced to Qrow. "I forgot; you weren't there for the briefing. Your kids are joining us in protecting mantle for a bit."

"The day after we arrived? I can't imagine that went well with the kiddos."

Clover froze, and Qrow tensed with him. The specialist was stiff as he turned, meeting his cautious gaze.

"What?"

"It wasn't the day after..." He cupped his face in both hands, looking down. "We were going to give them a day to rest- to restock and prepare. How long... No, I know how long. What-"

"Calm down," Qrow interjected, getting up. Out of everything, that motion got his bed partner to wake up, but Qrow ignored her. "I'll talk to James- he'll be more than happy to blame me for this. In the meantime..." Qrow grabbed him by the shoulders, dragging him into a nearby chair. "You are in no condition to fight."

"What do you mean?" Clover made to stand, only to find himself held down by Qrow. "They need me out there!"

Qrow stepped back, raising a hand in front of his face. "How many fingers am I holding up?" Just as he opened his mouth, Qrow flicked his forehead. Clover flinched back, but too late to avoid it. "You were staring at my hand and still couldn't react. You're staying here."

"Easy for you to say- you're an unemployed drunkard."

"Hey now, I'm a teacher at Signal." It was a pretty weak defense since Ozpin kept pulling him away from his classes for random missions even before the school shut down. Thankfully, in his haze, Clover wasn't able to identify the holes in his argument.

Not that he stayed silent.

"I'm still a soldier- I'm not going to just abandon my mission." He successfully rose this time, brushing past Qrow on his way to the door. "Hungover or not, I've got a job to do."

The door slammed shut behind him- the hinges wincing audibly. Qrow was left watching the door dumbly for a moment.

A cough brought his attention back to the other occupant of the room. She was sat up in bed, covers drawn over her chest. "Uh... Who are you?"

He smirked, posing with a thumb towards his chin. "I'm Qrow. And you are?"

"Uh..."

Qrow felt he was a pretty good judge of people. Running on forty, and with at least a decade of experience guarding or spying on people, he had more experience cold reading than most. And now? His instincts were screaming that something was wrong.

She wasn't a threat. Naked and without a weapon, he could beat a civilian with a finger. Hell, maybe his semblance could knock them out. Was she someone important? He didn't recognize her...

Narrowing his eyes, Qrow studied her increasingly uncomfortable face. There wasn't any obvious familial relationship that he could recognize. Still, something felt off. He leaned closer, checking her eyes.

Nope- not silver or red, both of which would have concerned him. Green wasn't the most common in Atlas, but that wasn't a problem.

Hm...

Damn, he was a bloody idiot. She wasn't just youthful- she was young. "How old are you?"

"N-nineteen."

Whew, dodged a bullet there. Assuming she was telling the truth, but he had picked her up at a bar.

Wait.

Nineteen. Bar.

Fuck.


James tapped once on his console, automatically transferring the call. "What is it?"

"Just- ah, stop it!" Clover kept his scroll steady, giving him a clear view of his face being pecked by a familiar black bird. "I'm checking in for the day."

"Ah." Ironwood made a note of the time, reminding himself to chart it down later. "You missed that yesterday. I assume that was our drunken friend's fault?"

"Yeah, he- ow!" Clover swatted the crow aside. Ironwood bit down on his snort. "We went bar hopping- I only came to this morning. I didn't even know we were in Mantle until I stepped outside." Clover glanced to his right shoulder where Qrow was perched. When he didn't do anything, Clover turned back. "That's him, isn't it?"

Ironwood couldn't quite keep the smirk off his face as Qrow squawked. "I'm guessing he has a problem with you?"

"He thinks I shouldn't be in the field today." His eyes rolling clearly demonstrated what he thought of that. "Apparently his missions weren't very impor- fuck off, Qrow!"

Dammit, Qrow. Ironwood couldn't even keep his mirth quiet- outright laughing as Qrow flapped his wings in Clover's face. He was able to mute himself, at least.

By the time Qrow finally let off, he'd recovered. "This mission isn't expected to be very difficult, Clover. Thirteen people- or eleven, without the two of you- filling in for a single person? It's mostly practice for the kids, and a chance to patch the hole in the wall."

Clover span- turning to the wall? -and winced as he met the sun instead. "It'll take more than a few hours to fix the wall..."

"I said patch it- not fix it. This won't stop a goliath, but it should put an end to the Sabyr incursions."

"Right..."

The door to his office drew open. "Take the day off, Clover. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Without waiting for a response, he hung up, turning towards his guest. "Miss Schnee?" No, that's bound to get confusing. "Weiss?"

"General," she curtseyed, already most of the way into the room. "I was scouring the news earlier today and came across something..."

One guess as to what that was. He sighed. "Yes, your father is running for councilman, and no, he isn't going to win."

"How would you know?" There was suspicion in her tone, but it passed quickly. "And your confidence or no, it's still making me-"

"Paranoid."

"- concerned," she growled. "He wouldn't do that without a plan."

"Of course he has a plan. He always has a plan- and most of them are terrible." He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Jacques has run for council every two years since you before you were born."

"For Atlas," she retorted, as though it wasn't painfully obvious. "He's running for the Mantle seat this time."

"And he'll get one on the representative branch yet again," he deadpanned. "With all due respect- which is none, by the way- Jacques hasn't been popular in more than two decades."

"You're just going to... Ignore this?"

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not ignoring it. Mantle has two-hundred times the faunus population of Atlas- there's just no chance he'll win that election. I'm not even sure you could rig him to win."

Weiss... She didn't quite calm down so much as deflate. That was enough for her to think, however, and that would solve the problem on its own. Ironwood pressed a button under the lip of his desk; the door to the room swung open. "If you'd please, Weiss, I have a busy schedule."

She didn't want to leave it off at that- the way she became less rigid in her stance as she got frustrated was identical to her sister- but complied with his request. And it was a request, strange as that was to say. He was busy, but he would have talked it through with her if necessary.

It just wasn't important. Not as much as dealing with Salem, at any rate.

His scroll rang.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. "What do you want, Jacques?"

"Why must you be so terse with me?" The man glowered at him through the screen. "I've never once done you wrong."

"Directly, no," and for that Ironwood was grateful. He had directly targeted the military on a couple of occasions, and he'd certainly given him a number of scathing remarks, but that wasn't what Jacques was referring to. "And I've returned that favor."

"Indeed you have," he agreed with a fledgling smile. "I was actually calling in regards to a different favor."

"Oh?" That was interesting. The Atlesian Military and the SDC were obviously tied together, and Ironwood had traded quite a few favors with the man over the years. Given the smile, it seemed unlikely he was displeased with the results of one.

"I am aware that my errant daughter has returned to Atlas." And yet you're smiling... "I was reluctant at first, but Whitley has convinced me to allow her back a second time- on a provisional basis, of course." That was news to him, but then he hardly kept up with family drama. It also explained which favor he was concerned with. "Please ignore my earlier request to recover her directly. She is rebellious, and I imagine she would simply flee from Atlas once more."

"Do you want me to do anything instead?"

Jacques stroked his mustache briefly in consideration. "If you would do it for free, could you pass a message onto Winter?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "That would depend on the message..."

"Nothing outlandish, I assure you. I simply wanted to offer her the chance to join us for the dinner I'm holding in two days. I doubt she will accept, but the offer is there."

Doubt- right. The fact he even had to ask made it clear she'd blocked off all means of communication the man had, practically guaranteeing her refusal. Nonetheless... "I'll pass your message along. I assume Weiss is going to be there."

He grunted, neither an assent or disagreement. The hidden message in that was clear. She hasn't formally agreed to it, then?

Not unexpected, but bothersome; the happier Jacques was, the less likely he was to make a public stink about him commandeering one of his abandoned mines. However useless to him, it was still private property.

Ironwood waited just long enough to see if Jacques had anything left to say before closing his scroll.

Finally, he could get back to-

Ironwood's glare- famed almost to the point of matching Glynda- burned down at his ringing scroll. It softened slightly when he recognized the number- it was familiar, and one he could ignore for once.

Do people just forget I'm the headmaster of a currently active school AND a general? The paperwork alone would have driven any lesser man to insanity. It was the very reason Ozpin had made Glynda his deputy...

He was greater than a man, in more ways than one. That was the thought that steeled him as he stared down a new pile of the dreaded crap.

"Once more unto the breach."


"Why did you guys say no to so many of my ideas!?"

Blake found herself smiling at Ruby's indignant cry. It was so... So her, and with the return of a school setting, it was almost enough to let her imagine they were all back in Beacon. In answer to her question... "I, for one, thought most of them were great ideas; they would just be hard to implement."

"But I did all of that work for you!"

Under any other circumstances, she might have had a point there. Except, "we would have to learn new fighting styles to match the changes. An extra ten feet on Gambol Shroud- on top of all the extra weight on the smaller end- would throw all of my training with it out the window."

"That was just for you! My ideas didn't change Yang's any!"

"That's where you're wrong, sis," the blonde interjected, deploying her remaining half of Ember Celica. "One of your ideas what about leaving explosive charges behind when I punched things? I've based my entire fighting style around the shotgun blasts; they increase the force of my punch and charge my Semblance through the backlash. Making the explosion go off later would lose both benefits."

Ruby hung her head, turning to the last member of the team- her partner. "At least one of you liked my ideas..."

Weiss laughed, patting Ruby's back in reassurance. Blake caught it, though- Weiss had a practiced laugh for awkward situations but it came out a bit higher pitch than normal. Maybe nobody else could catch it, but with two genetically enhanced sets of ears?

She is going to reject something too, huh?

Ruby was brilliant, and the designs she came up with were great. A lot of it just seemed unnecessary, though. Really, their team just needed more Dust ammunition and training. There was only so far you could improve a weapon.

Ozpin used a bloody cane and he'd had a thousand years or more to choose his.

"I agreed to the double trigger system, didn't I?" It was a weak attempt to cheer Ruby up but sue her. She spent eight years with terrorists.

"Yeah," Yang agreed, lifting her mechanical arm. "The detachable cable system was great."

Ruby sighed, standing to gaze out the window to Atlas. "We've almost died so many times since this all started, and there just isn't enough time to train. Adam was stronger than us, and we're against someone who can't even die. I just... This is the only way I can think to help."

Wow... Way to give us a reality check.

"You're right," Yang said, joining her by the window. "But bad ideas will only make it worse. We need better plans, not better equipment."

"But what do we actually do!?" Ruby shouted, causing them all to flinch. She caught it, dropping her volume, but the anger in her tone remained. "I've tried to stay optimistic, I've tried to hold to the belief that everything will turn out okay, but we don't have a plan."

"Yes, we-" Weiss tried.

"We don't! We have Ozpin's plan. The plan of someone who's failed for a thousand years." Her breath came out in heaving gasps for a moment. She wasn't done, for all that her voice turned quiet and soft. "The only thing that has any idea what's happening can't tell us the future, and even Ironwood's grand plan is to delay Salem. It's the same thing as Ozpin has been doing- just with fewer secrets..."

She wasn't wrong, as easy as it would have been to claim so. Despite that, Blake found herself standing in the general's defense. "There is no plan that just gets around an immortal with an army of Grimm. A stopgap is better than nothing."

"I know it is. It just doesn't feel like something we can contribute to in any meaningful way," Ruby lamented, collapsing back onto her bunk.

"Maybe not yet," Weiss hedged, shuffling to her side. "But things are different now. If Ironwood's plan works, the entire world will be on our side. Then we'll have millions of plans to pick from. Sounds like an improvement, no?"

Ruby huffed, but there was a lack of heat in it. "I suppose you're right."

"I'm always right," Weiss bristled, though from the blush she utterly failed to hide Blake guessed it was for their leader's benefit.

"Of course you are," Ruby smarmed, a small smile breaking through. "My apologies, your highness. Please forgive your loyal servant." Adding injury to insult, Ruby knelt down on the ground as if bowing to royalty.

The former-heiress reacted about as expected, rushing off into a longwinded speech about proper conduct for official huntresses. That was one change she could approve of since Beacon.

And yet, with both Ruby and Yang's smiles only growing as Weiss grew more and more exasperated with the young leader, Blake couldn't help but realize an important truth. Beacon hadn't been as great as she remembered, because it was these three idiots that made her attendance worth it.


It's clear to me now that I can't adequately explain the council system only in character... Everyone who cares would already know how it works. So, instead, I had the snippet with Weiss and will conduct a full explanation below.

After the Color Revolution, the 'council' was more a system of advisors that could, in theory, replace the king. It was a difficult process- deliberately so- and led to a number of logistical problems.

Ironwood's father was one of six generals serving under the last King of Mantle, and was approached by Ozma- as the King of Vale- regarding a coup. Given the clear prosperity Vale had received under Ozma's rulership and the relative stagnation of Mantle, he agreed, and all but one of the generals soon agreed as well.

Within a single day, they'd deposed the ruler, and the trouble came from how to build a new government. Since the military was in control, a lot of it came down to their own interests.

Atlas Academy became under military governance, with the headmaster given a seat on the council. Each of the five turncoated generals was also given a seat- leaving six total seats in the direct control of the military.

The remaining six seats they agreed to were distributed amongst Mantle- which had two, prior to the raising of Atlas- the merchant guild- which also originally had two, but was later removed- a Vale ambassador, and the Grand Judge- which was a lifelong commitment and was elected by the rest of the council.

The Merchant Guild was replaced by the 'Representative Branch', which was a total of 49 elected seats which were given to council candidates who lost in accordance with accumulated votes. They settled ties and dealt with most of the mundane goings-on of government.

In this manner, the modern Atlesian council has 60% of its 10 seats directly controlled by military interests. Importantly, the Grand Judge is elected by those seats, meaning they have all been former officers as well.

This is a form of military dictatorship that would easily become tyrannical since subterfuge is a viable method to acquire power. Fortunately, the government is still young and hasn't had enough time to become thoroughly corrupt. It still means most citizens have very little control over their governance, however, producing an unusual amount of negativity that has to be countered by instilling great patriotism and pride among the populace.

It is actually that last part that led to the most hatred towards Faunus, as they are viewed as the enemy of Atlas following the Faunus wars.

I could spend another few paragraphs detailing the election cycle, international politics, and any number of other ancillary features, but I'll only bother if its something that interests you all. Hell, I might even make that my own 'World of Remnant' episode. :)