RWBY (c) RoosterTeeth
Rose Above The Clouds
Mutually Beneficial
The Council meeting proceeded as they always did. Meandering strings of conversation vaguely alluded to the current agenda item which amounted to little more than double-talk and circling around the issues that truly mattered.
Admiral Iris Thorne was quickly reminded within the first five minutes, of the two hour session, precisely why she almost always chose to attend via a scrambled communication line in her office. Conversations invariably boiled down to blaming the newest hottest topic of the week for the lack of progress in stately issues. The newest punching bag of the council was this Dust Embargo, a reactionary if short-sighted measure to prevent another collapse like the one at Beacon last year.
Thorne had her own opinions on the matter, but she could see the validity in both sides.
Any commander - any leader - worth their salt understood just how important these matters of state were. The good governance of a city or kingdom demanded meticulous management of resources, manpower, skill and a deft application of the art of compromise.
Unfortunately, all of these things took time. And so much time had been wasted in this meeting, time that could've been otherwise used productively.
In theory, there would be eight people seated at the Atlas Round Table.
The Speaker who would serve as a mediator for discussion, appointed and vetted by an independent branch of the Atlesian Governing Body; the Round Table Scribe who would studiously record minutes and notations of the meeting for the Council Archives; Three Councilors, two elected by Atlas and one elected by Mantle; The Head and Guild Master of the Huntsmen Academy; the Lord Admiral of the Mantle Navy and Captain-General of the Atlas Military.
At this gathering, there were only six people. Just as James Ironwood occupied the seats of General of the Atlas Military and the Guild Master of the Huntsmen Academy, so too did Iris Thorne hold the Command of the Mantle Navy and was the lawfully elected representative of Mantle.
The Speaker stood at a podium that overlooked the semi-circular table where the council members sat. Between them was a massive holographic display that contained the agenda items of the day. And when the speaker declared the meeting adjourned, the council members filled slowly out of the chamber. The scribe following shortly thereafter to file today's meeting records away.
Thorne had scarcely noticed them go, her faded purple eyes focused on the electronic data pad set before her. Her stylus was a blur between recording her thoughts, signing orders and monitoring the data in-load of daily mission briefings. She didn't look up when the chair beside her scraped across the floor.
"I'm glad that we had the opportunity for a face to face discussion, Lord Admiral. Though I wish this were under better circumstances." Councilwoman Camilla said by way of greeting, assuming the seat beside her.
Thorne didn't look up to acknowledge her Atlas contemporary. "Unlike most members of this council, I do not have the luxury of floating away from the problems that beset my slice of the Kingdom. So whatever issues you need to discuss off the record, I politely suggest they be of a certain calamitous quality."
"I won't deny that General Ironwood's dust embargo has set us all on edge." Camilla agreed after a moment's pause, nodding with the appropriate grimness. It was an act, a practiced performance that Thorne had no patience for. Before long would come the empty platitudes and vaguery.
"That's why I was hoping to talk with you privately for a moment. About General Ironwood's near totalitarian actions. The system is supposed to have checks and balances, but lately he has been running roughshod all over this Kingdom."
"I dare say, he's not the only one." Thorne interjected wryly.
"And I know with your help, we could overturn this embargo. And then we can finally work on providing Mantle with much needed resources. But we cannot act before the General ceases this pointless blockage." Camilla offered not unkindly, placing a placating hand on Thorne's arm.
"Indeed. And next week, when the embargo has been lifted, the international economy will require time to recover and allow for an influx of trade. Ignoring the fact that Atlas' dust companies are the ones with the monopoly on that particular corner." The Admiral replied coolly, signing off on other orders.
Wrong footed, the Councilwoman attempted to interject but Thorne cut her off in her pleasant off-handed tone.
"Just as last week, it was the unrest begun by the sudden Flash Freeze out in the Tundra. And the week before that, it was the Armistice Day to commemorate the end of the Great War eighty-two years ago. The week before that still, it was a worker strike in Atlas - The strike in question being confined to a set of restaurateurs. Though what they have to do with matters of supplying metals, arms and armaments to soldiers and engineering corps down in Mantle, I haven't the faintest clue."
Admiral Thorne shrugged halfheartedly, not bothering to look the councilwoman in her eye. "The Civilian mindset has been an alien thing to me for a very long time now. Or should I call back the Council scribe? I can give dates and times and you can happily inspect the records where your words have amounted to little more than hollow platitudes and empty promises."
The Admiral rose from her chair, her scarred face sketching a fearsome image as she stared down at her fellow councilwoman. The cover on her tablet closed with a satisfying clap.
"Your excuses are as dull as they are wafer thin, my dear. I won't deny that General Ironwood's new secret projects have put an intense strain on an already overburdened local economy; but I have been promised, and promised, and promised aid for Mantle for years on end at this point. And to put it bluntly, I'm sick of you, Sleet and Ironwood blowing smoke about desperately needed aid. This has transcended advanced repair requirements and become basic humanitarian needs. Are you content to let half your kingdom starve to death in their homes, or freeze to death because there's not enough parts to adequetely repair our power grids? Or are you simply waiting for us to become a new crater?"
"You're exaggerating, Admiral." Camillia declared boldly.
"Am I? Shall I remind you that if Mantle collapses into the Tundra - a very real risk right now if you had bothered to read the countless reports or entreaties for aid - then you will topple with us. Your very foundations are built upon sand, Councilwoman, and the tide's come into wash it all away."
Thorne's brow furrowed, the scars pulling across her face to make the image all the more fierce. "As of right now, Ironwood has been the only one to reach out and offer any form of tentative assistance for only one of our many pressing issues; token gesture though it may be. So forgive me if I'm not exactly predisposed to doing you favours, Katrina. Your words mean nothing to me."
Camilla shot to her feet, attempting to match the Admiral's temper, but found herself singularly falling short. Both figuratively and quite literally. The councilwoman barely reached Thorne's shoulder in terms of height, and had to crane her neck to look the Navy officer in her eye. "Admiral Thorne, you are a member of the council and-"
"Indeed, which is why you can understand that I do not have the time or energy to waste with idle talk. Pardon me, I have a kingdom and a Navy to run."
With that, Admiral Thorne turned abruptly on her heel and departed the round table in a foul temper, leaving Councilwoman Camilla behind.
Upon exiting the Chamber, Commodore Everest snapped immediately to attention and took the proffered datapad that Thorne shoved into his hands. His dark tattooed face creased in an expression of sympathy towards his irritated superior.
"Politics. So damn tiresome. I swear that dealing with that cavalcade of children is responsible for more grey hairs than any Naval engagement I've ever commanded." Thorne ran her finger down the ancient claw scars across her face before pinching the bridge of her nose, hoping to quell a rising headache that threatened to transform into a migraine.
"I take it the meeting went about as well as can be expected?" The Commodore mused aloud.
"There is a reason I do not attend these things personally. Reading the minutes gives me less of a headache than actually hearing them bemoan each other. Thank you, Fenix." Thorne replied, rubbing her brow and taking an offered thermos flask. Inside was a sweet smelling brew that warmed her up considerably. Though temporary, the relief it gave her was a welcome reprieve.
"Admiral Thorne?"
And just like that, the headache went from throbbing to splitting. Thorne's dull purple eyes locked on General Ironwood, approaching her with his hands clasped behind his back. At his right shoulder was the Specialist Winter Schnee in a similarly poised posture.
"I have wasted enough time here, Ironwood. Please tell me you're not about to waste more of it. It's a rather precious commodity when you get to be my age." Thorne advised, mentally assessing where her combat knife was. An old but faithful weapon that remained concealed across the back of her belt.
She had told her adjutants that she must inform the good General of the greater threat out there in the unknown parts of the world. The demonic creature known only as Salem. But first she had to ascertain precisely where Ironwood stood. And she wanted to handle that matter on her own terms.
"I have no wish to waste your time further. Believe me when I say that I happen to be in complete agreement with your sentiments today." Ironwood nodded sympathetically.
"I believe the common joke among office workers is 'I survived a meeting that should have just been an email'." Thorne answered, earning a distant chuckle from her Atlas contemporary.
"Yes, that does seem to be the case." The strained levity faded, "I was hoping to have a few more minutes of your time if I may? I understand that Mantle has been under an intense strain lately, but I'm hoping to reach a greater compromise."
"Surely you could have simply opened a communication line if you wanted to discuss further reparations to Mantle and its subterranean plate." Commodore suggested, but Thorne raised her hand to silence any further comments.
Ironwood's expression was downcast, as though he wasn't willing to voice his next thoughts. "What I wish to discuss… I don't necessarily trust our security systems enough to voice over a com-line. Even with the military-tier scrambling."
"That's a bold statement from you if I ever heard one, Ironwood." Thorne's brow furrowed.
"I'm aware of that. But perhaps when you've heard what I have to say, you'll understand why." Ironwood suggested, then gestured for Thorne and Everest to follow him.
"While we're speaking candidly, may I ask your opinion on something Admiral?" Ironwood began as the two of them walked in lockstep towards the Academy, their Adjutants trailing behind them.
The Council Chambers, and other administrative buildings were located within a moderate walking distance from the Atlas Huntsmen Academy. A deliberate design choice on the part of the architects. The intention was that should any harm come to the council members while they were in session, nearly the entire force of Huntsmen stationed within could be rallied and mustered to render aid to their Kingdom leaders.
It wasn't until they had stepped outside into the cool evening air that Thorne saw fit to present an answer, idly sipping more tea from the thermos in her hand.
"It depends on what you want an opinion on." Thorne answered.
"This is a strictly hypothetical scenario: Say there was an enemy. An enemy that only a select few knew existed and have been fighting for as long as civilisation existed. How would you go about introducing the concept of such an enemy to the population?" Ironwood questioned,
Thorne glanced at his profile, scrutinising him. Precisely what was he up to? A secret enemy he says? Was this some sort of test to gage her reactions? To measure precisely how she would handle and defeat such a foe? It was unlikely, given that the General had very little experience in espionage style campaigns. Once more, she reminded herself of the trusty hidden dagger on her belt and considered an answer.
"I would manufacture a terrorist threat." Thorne supplied bluntly.
"You would what?" Winter Schnee blurted, then promptly remembered herself.
Thorne continued as though uninterrupted. "Over time, I would introduce a nameless threat to the population, an ever-blooming fear that would allow them to get used to the idea that there was an enemy in their midst. Over a time period, for argument's sake say six months to five years, I would steadily reveal more and more information to paint the unknown individual as a target for outrage and action."
"You wouldn't reveal such a threat all at once?" Ironwood questioned, black eyebrow arched upwards, "Don't you believe that would be the smarter option?"
Thorne shook her head, taking a long sip from her thermos and enjoying the sweet brew rolling on her tongue. "No - It wouldn't. Perhaps to a smaller population, say if you were simply talking to a group of a dozen or fewer people. Then you have the opportunity to answer questions and allow them to process what they've heard. But the larger population size you introduce this concept to, the more and more herd mentality will take over. And statistically speaking, the larger a group the more they will act in accordance to the lowest common denominator."
"To put it plainly, an individual can process this threat more easily than a group could all at once. Does that summarise your point, Admiral?" Winter Schnee interjected,
"A person's smart, people are dumb. Dumb, stupid wild animals, every single one of them." Everest supplied.
"Precisely that. If you introduce this concept slowly over time, you gain better control over how you can direct the people's outcry and what to direct their emotion towards. And when an enemy has finally been named, they have a focal point to rally behind." Thorne explained patiently, "Having that single looming threat will be a banner, a goal to fight towards. Though it does take a great deal of patience to cultivate the right responses you'd require for such a task. And, of course, one needs the right sort of experience waging that kind of campaign. It's not something you can just bungle through with strength of arms alone."
"And how would you take the effect the rising panic into account when dealing with the Grimm?" Specialist Schnee questioned and Thorne smirked.
"Is this an interrogation? Because it almost feels like you're attempting to ask me for advice? Shall we dispense with the obfuscation, General? Or is this the point where you wish to inform me that there is an ancient threat outside our kingdom walls, and you need my help to defeat it?"
By the time Thorne had concluded her answer, the four of them had made it to General Ironwood's office. The door swished open and the ceiling illuminated when it sensed motion.
Ironwood made his way inside, "I confess, that's precisely why I wanted to speak with you this evening, Admiral. Please, come in."
When Thorne entered the office, she had the feeling she'd walked into a trap. Regardless, she ordered Everest to remain outside with a silent gesture. If push came to shove, she could use her semblance to immobilise them and make her escape. But would the General truly be so brazen to attempt an assassination in his own office? Thorne's lips pressed into a thin line, wondering precisely what Ironwood was planning here.
"Are you familiar with any fairy tales, Admiral?"
"I sat through a dull two hour affair to listen to your fantastical pitch, is that it?" Thorne dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Or perhaps this is the part where you tell me you - and your new allies - have been busy attempting to fight against Salem and her ilk too."
The blunt statement hung in the air, and even the military discipline instilled into the Atlesian specialist didn't prevent her open mouthed shock at such a blunt admission.
"I take it then… that Huntress Rose informed you of the situation, and that's why you agreed to meet me." Ironwood recovered quickly.
"On the contrary; I've known about Salem for quite literally years. General Palatinate was once a confidant of Headmaster Ozpin - a reincarnating immortal if she was to be believed. And I've never had a reason to doubt her judgement of character. Patrica saw fit to inform myself and Colonel Rose when we first became her adjutants." Thorne paused and glanced around the room.
It seems like they were all fighting the same foe. How irritating.
So much pointless pettiness and arguing could've been avoided if they were frank with each other. Perhaps the fault for that lay with Thorne as well. Too caught up in what could have been to acknowledge the 'now' that was set before her. "I will admit however, there were bits and pieces I didn't know about. The Maidens for instance, women with the power of magic at their finger-tips. The four relics. The fact that our enemy appears to be an immortal. Summer was quite thorough with her briefing in that regard."
"She wasn't authorised to share that information with you." Winter said firmly, but Ironwood waved her off.
"Then, it appears we are both on the same page. And I hope you can understand why I've had to requisition so many resources from Mantle and many of our own operations to progress our current projects." Ironwood explained, circling around his desk and taking a seat behind it. "I presume that Huntress Rose has informed you of the Global Communications Project."
"She has." Thorne nodded, "And, it seems that you and I have much to discuss."
Author's note:
Did some world building. Thorne and Ironwood are finally talking. Yay!
I welcome feedback and criticism,
Aurora313