RWBY (c) RoosterTeeth
Rose Above The Clouds
Negotiations
"And, exactly how recent is this footage?" General Ironwood's voice projected loud and clear in the spartan grey office, occupied by only a desk in front of the tinted window.
The aged woman sitting behind it was clad in a navy blue uniform accented by white and muted green. Her hair was tied back in a bun and the colour of steel with fading streaks to indicate her once bronze hair tone. Her eyes were dull purple and ancient scars crossed the bridge of her nose from the left cheek to right temple, tokens of a Saber swipe that caught her off guard after an aura break. The elaborately decorated rank pins on her shoulders marked her as an Admiral.
On her desk-mounted computer, she had a communication open to the Office of Atlas Academy's. General James Ironwood's live image was reduced to a miniaturised window in the corner while the larger screen was taken up by a live share; footage from a street camera showed a portion of Mantle's streets. Specifically, a small section of the road bucking, crumbling away to reveal a man sized opening. A mole-like Grimm with a hardened white carapace and drill-like nose slowly crawled out. It moved no faster than a casual stroll, but behind it Sabers swarmed from the opening in droves.
"Approximately thirty-seven minutes ago," Admiral Iris Thorne of the Mantle Navy answered her Atlas contemporary. "According to our sensor grid, the subterranean armour plating buckled in Sector 14 and the Grimm Crawlers managed to chew through and breach the surface level. Our forces were able to contain the incursion and seal off the area with emergency plating, but this is the third time this week."
"I take it from your tone that you're not contacting me just to report this quelled infestation?" General Ironwood asked wearily. At this time in the record, Penny Pollendina had appeared to quick dispatch the Grimm in a magnificent display of puppetry and sword play.
The Admiral shook her head, maintaining her professionally detached composure. "We've detected signs of similar failure across the foundation pillars in Sectors 3, 9, 15, 17, 23 and 28. And the first signs of deterioration in about a dozen other sectors."
"What exactly are you requesting right now, Iris?" Ironwood asked candidly.
Thorne's lips pressed into a thin line at the braisen use of her given name, but reminded herself quickly that this was not one of her subordinates but a individual of equivocal rank to her own. "Bluntly; we need resources. Or at the very least, some of your automatons to help man the defensive lines while our engineers assess the damage and sure up the city's foundations. Additionally, we need to reduce your supply demands by at least fifty percent to reach bare minimum safety standards across all foundation pillars."
"We can't do that." Ironwood said firmly.
"You do understand that if Mantle collapses, Atlas goes with us?"
Ironwood's brows furrowed - in annoyance Thorne had thought, but she also saw the tension in his posture. His clasped hands tightened just a fraction.
"I am not saying this to spout of some political propaganda or tired old rhetoric. I'm saying this because this is true, General." Admiral Thorne tried to infuse as much humility and assurance in her tone as possible. She wanted to avoid sounding antagonistic as much as possible. "Atlas and Mantle are a symbiotic circle; we supply you with rare metals, earths and other mineral goods, you supply us with food and livestock. We cannot exist without one another, and Mantle certainly won't exist if the subterranean plates aren't properly serviced and reinforced. Lest our foundations buckle beneath our feet and we fall into the very mines we excavated to build the city in the first place."
Ironwood remained rigid. His brow knitted together and behind his composure, the Admiral could hear the anger in his voice. "Admiral, I don't think you understand the precarious situation we're in right now."
"Then explain it to me as one solider to another." Admiral Thorne pleaded.
"At this point, those details are classified and I'm sorry that I can't say anymore. Suffice it to say that what I'm doing is for the benefit of Atlas."
Thorne swallowed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she persisted and put a card on the table she had loathed to play. "Please re-consider your stance on the matter. Before it becomes an issue set forward by the other council members."
Ironwood's voice was low. "Are you threatening me?"
"No, I'm simply saying I want to negotiate a resolution to the matter, or at least a stopgap that can satisfy both of our needs for the time being." Admiral Thorne answered curtly.
"You're not the only one who holds two seats at the Round Table, General. And I think you'll find that the other councilmen aren't as willing to negotiate as I am." Thorne leaned forward, her tone imploring. "Please, give Mantle something. Classified or no, my clearance is the same as yours - Give me something. Anything. Anything you give me will go a long way towards helping me ingratiate you to the civilian population down here."
"I'm not particularly concerned with my public image right now, Thorne."
Admiral Thorne scoffed. "That is a blindingly obvious truth, Ironwood."
A tense silence passed between the two commanders, Ironwood closed his eyes with a soft exhale. It took him another minute before he was ready to speak. His attention went to something off screen where he typed a few keys onto what Thorne presumed was a scroll. "I can spare a corp of engineers, and reduce the Atlas supply drain by twenty percent."
"I have no choice but to accept-"
"-However, if you can provide volunteers; Machine operators, foremen, miners - we can reopen the S.D.C mine situated out in the Tundra on the proviso that the Altesian Military is given full jurisdiction of the Mine and surrounding area." Ironwood offered, "If we can restart the mining operation there, we can help ease the burden on resources. At least as a stop-gap."
Admiral Thorne's eyes slid closed in barely disguised exasperation. "That would eat into vital manpower we need to repair the subterranean plate."
Ironwood shook his head. "I never said 'civilian' manpower. Reassign a platoon of engineers from your Navy. The work may not be what they're traditionally trained for, but I'd like to think they'll be up to the task. But I request they have Sigma clearance or higher for the operation. The work I'm doing there requires nothing less, and I need complete autonomy to utilise your men as I require."
"I'll have to look into suitable forces for the operation." Thorne pinched the bridge of her nose, tracing the scars with her fingertip. "I assume with Sigma that enlisting aid from Jacques Schnee is out the window?"
"Admiral Thorne, be frank with me. Do you really want to deal with him?"
Despite herself, the Admiral snorted in amusement. "No, no - I most certainly do not. Very well. I'll scour my active duty roster to look for those with skills comparable with heavy mechanical duty."
"And in return for your assistance on this matter, I'll reassign a two squads of Mark Two Paladins and accompanying support units to assist in defense work, to take some heat off your repair crews. Per our discussion, you'll have authority within reason of their deployment."
Thorne gave a shallow nod. "Gods willing, that'll be enough. At least for now."
"Its the best I can do." Ironwood said sympathetically.
"Understood. Thank you for your time. I'll have my men report to the barricade outside S.D.C Mine in fourty-eight hours. I'll also forward a missive onto your adjutant when they're on their way." Thorne explained.
"I'll endeavour to meet the same time frame. Until next time, Admiral." Ironwood straightened his back in his chair and offered a crisp salute. The gesture was returned by Admiral Thorne.
"General."
The feed cut out and the transmission shut down. The hologram above her table disappeared and the room's lighting re-engaged, revealing two others standing in the room by the far wall. A civilian woman wearing a black business suit and skit combo with her light blue hair tied back in a short professional looking style, gold eyes and a pair of wire-frame glasses perched on her nose. The other was a man wearing the uniform of a Mantlese Commodore, his head was shaven bald and tattoos decorated his dark skin.
Admiral Thorne's fingers clutched in a fist that shook with sheer frustration before leaning back in her chair, her head resting on her raised hand as she sunk into silent contemplation.
"Admiral, I don't wish to sound insubordinate but... what if we told General Ironwood?" The man, Commodore Fenix Everest inquired, looking down at his commander. "If Ironwood knew the truth. Perhaps he'd be willing to reconsider our plans, and not so quick to-"
"No." The Admiral answered. Her response wasn't harsh or cold, simply firm. "General Palatinate entrusted this knowledge - this burden - to her adjutants. With Palatinate and Violet both out of the picture, the burden has fallen to me. And I will uphold it to the best of my ability."
The Commodore stepped forward. "Ma'am, with respect - Patricia Palatinate is gone, Violet Rose is gone. You are all that remains of the three pillars. And its not a burden you can bare alone."
Admiral Thorne looked up at him, her purple eyes narrowed skeptically. "Tell me something, Fenix. How can I trust the man when I don't even know whose side he's on. So many secret projects that he's neglecting to inform the rest of us. I am his equal in rank and position on the council, yet how do I know if he's really working for the betterment of our Kingdom? So far, he seems to be doing a far superior job at sabotaging it. We've spent more time in the past week torn between slaying monsters and playing 'cat and mouse'. Grimm are sprouting through our city like weeds and if things keep going, they'll keep coming faster than we can kill them. Then there's the matter of all the resources he's plundering from our stores to make his pet projects happen. How can I trust him on those facts alone?"
The Admiral stroked her forehead, "The Navy has already tapped out our own reserves to restore Mantle's subterranean plates. We've even tripled production on our off-shore supply rigs, but its barely enough. And that's taking into account the twenty percent deduction he's promised in his resource leech."
The civilian woman, Celeste Teale, finally took a step forward, her heels clacked against the floor as she did so. Her hands were clasped in front of her as she pondered her words. "Distasteful as it is, we may have made a deal with the devil Admiral."
"Yes, I know. But here's hoping we won't reach that point any time soon." Admiral Thorne replied, sighing in resignation. "It irks me that its come to this... By the Gods, do I wish Violet were still alive sometimes. If she was sitting on the General's seat in Atlas like we'd all planned for, this would be a very different situation..."
"Admiral. I know you don't want to hear this, but perhaps we should put preparations in place so you may tell the General about the truth?" Teale suggested.
Commodore Everest nodded in solidarity. "If we are to prepare for the enemy outside our walls and the chaos that will come after, then we need to be united. And for the Kingdom to be united under a common banner-"
"I know. I know..." Thorne waved a dismissive hand. "I must tell the good General about Salem."
"You look like hell."
Ironwood chuckled wholeheartedly at the greeting when his office door opened, enjoying the first bit of levity he'd had all morning. "In polite society, we say 'good morning'."
He looked up to see Qrow Branwen entering his darkened office, uninvited as usual. Tapping a few keys on his desk, the windows behind Ironwood transitioned into their transparent form, letting the morning sun into the room. It took the General a second to adjust to the sudden brightness but only a second. He hoisted himself out of his chair and made his way to a small serving table in the right hand corner and poured two mugs of coffee, handing one to Qrow as he returned to his desk.
"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?'
"You were right." Qrow declared as he stood before Ironwood's desk. "Seems like Summer was stuck as Salem's house guest for the last fourteen years."
Ironwood muttered something to himself under his breath, "It's not a fate I'd wish on my worst enemy. That being the case, I'm confused why she didn't simply tell me this."
"And risk getting locked up in a loony bin?" Qrow shot back with his typical acerbic tone, shrugging and taking a sip of the coffee. He clearly found it to his liking and took a longer drink.
Ironwood gave him a look, "You mean, in addition to being kept as a semi-permanent resident of a mental ward?"
Qrow made a face and gave a conceding nod, "Okay, yeah that's a point. But she came back under the assumption that your predecessor was in charge. And how was she to know that you knew about Salem and her cronies? If it was anyone else and she told them the whole story - they'd probably strap her up in a straight jacket then lock her away in a padded room. 'For her own safety' or some bull like that."
The General pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a seat at his desk. "Thankfully we didn't have to resort to such... harsh measures. As much as I appreciate the confirmation of our suspicions, I don't believe you came here just for that. So what are you doing here, Qrow?"
Qrow swirled the coffee in his mug before taking another swig. "Enough beating around the bush, huh? Fine then. I assume you heard about that crap show at the hospital?"
Ironwood nodded, feeling his stress levels rise just at the mention of that fiasco. "Yes, I do. Speciality Reed reported it to me directly, and we've already had our security pull the footage for signs of tampering and surveillance. It seems our mysterious assassin, who we now know as Neo Politan, thought she could sneak through our defenses by posing as one of our Specialists. The fact that they both apparently share the trait of mutism was a boon to her infiltration."
"How's your Specialist taking it?" Qrow asked,
"She is… discomposed to put it gently. Those men who guarded Summer's door were members of her company. They served together for many years. Trusted her with their lives, and then Neo used her face to murder them all. She's less than thrilled." Ironwood explained. Qrow's lips pressed in a thin line. "I understand if, given the recent incident, you feel the security is lax. Especially since this entire situation could've been avoided had one person not waved her through."
Qrow merely grunted, "That's all it takes sometimes; One gullible idiot to doom us all."
Ironwood made a sound of agreement in his throat. "The clerk will be harshly disciplined - of that, I promise you. But I don't think that's the reason you're here either."
Qrow shook his head, "No."
"I also assume it has to do with the special weapons and equipment order you've placed with Doctor Pollendina." There was a sly smirk on Ironwood's lips and Qrow rolled his eyes.
"A'right. Here's the core of it; I want to get Summer back into fighting shape. With that in mind, I want to take her out of the hospital and get her onto the training floors."
Ironwood's mild expression faded, replaced with one of unyielding steel. Eyes narrowed at his compatriot. "And how can you be sure she won't turn against us? How do you know she wasn't turned into a sleeper agent so Salem could infiltrate our ranks? Like with Lionheart."
Qrow swallowed hard, his eyes lowering to the ground as he contemplated his answer. "I guess I don't know. She could be an infiltrator. Hell, she could be brainwashed to try and kill us all in our sleep. But given what she is, given the power in her possession, can we really afford to let a fully trained Silver Eyed Warrior rot away in a cell?"
"The potential boon does outweigh the risk, I'll grant you that." Ironwood conceded after a moment, "The problem is we still don't know the extent of the damage Salem inflicted upon her. Auditory and visual hallucinations are common symptoms, but we still don't know the full extent of her trauma. And we can't treat it if we don't know what could set her off."
Qrow listened and couldn't help but nod along with the points. He obviously agreed on some level but was persistent none the less. "Yeah, I understand that it's not an ideal situation. But it's what we've got. And Summer would never betray us."
"What makes you think that?"
Qrow shrugged, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?"
"I'm not in the mood for jokes, Qrow."
"I'm not entirely joking." Qrow insisted, he downed the rest of his coffee and looked Ironwood in the eye. "Look, you don't know Summer very well so I'll vouch this. She may be a very jovial, sometimes downright adorable woman. But she is a vengeful woman. Salem wronged her, and she'll want her vengeance."
Ironwood buried his face in his hand, rubbing his eyes as a wave of fatigue hit him. "As much as I appreciate the assurance, I can't help but feel you're allowing your personal feelings to get in the way of thinking rationally."
"She's my wife. Of course I'm letting my personal feelings get involved. And right now, those feelings involve getting her back into fighting shape so the next time someone like Neo comes waltzing past, she can protect herself without relapsing into another episode." Qrow admitted without shame. "She has an offer if you let her out."
"An offer?" Ironwood cocked an eyebrow, chuckling at the audacity. "How is she in any position to offer me anything?"
Qrow shrugged. "She said she's willing to submit to whatever precautions you consider necessary. But if you let her out of the hospital; she'll tell us where the Summer Maiden is."
Author's note:
So, a bit of context. I'm taking a bit of liberty with Mantle and Atlas politics. So, we have the Atlasian Military Airfleet and the Mantlese Navy. While they are both armed forces of Atlas' Kingdom, they act like rival factions. Additionally I will confirm the entire election arc has been completely scrapped in favour of other plot lines I feel would better enhance the reading experience of RWBY V7's events. As showcased in the chapter, the Fifth (and technically sixth) Council seat is held by Admiral Iris Thorne.
Also, she knows about Salem.
I welcome feedback and criticism,
Aurora313
