RWBY (c) RoosterTeeth
Rose Above The Clouds
Relief and Resolve
For all the troubles plaguing Altas, Mantle and Remnant as a greater entity, James Ironwood felt like a great weight had been lighted from his shoulders.
Admiral Thorne and her inner circle not only knew of the oncoming storm, but were already pursuing their own measures against it. And that fact alone helped explain many hidden reasons behind the reluctance and tensions between the two city states. Both were unwittingly sabotaging the other's preparation efforts for Salem's ilk by hording from the same diminishing resource supply. Two bodies drawing upon one straining heart.
Of course, that wasn't the only reason why Mantle was suffering its own economic issues, but went a long way to explain why they were increasingly catastrophic lately.
Once the initial shock had passed, their conversation became animate and lasted for hours. It stretched into the evening and well into the next morning. Over its course, Thorne and Ironwood had moved from the General's office to the deserted galley for a late dinner and coffee then, some time afterwards, arrived at the conference room some doors down from the Office. The security mechanisms were engaged and sealed the room from outside eyes.
This frank talk between two officers was phenomenally refreshing. No political double-speak or hidden agenda in play, neither was dancing around the other in a verbal spar to gain the upper hand. This was just an honest discussion between two like-minded veterans fueled by the mutual passion to defend their home.
Ironwood continued to probe the Admiral for tactics and strategies to introduce Salem as a threat to the people in the most effective way possible. And she answered concisely with various methods and means, outlining the pros and cons of each within effective time frames.
Ironwood converted his scroll into its tablet form and jotted down notes, outlying minutes of their impromptu meeting. He'd also forwarded several classified documents pertaining to the latest construction and reinforcement materials devised by Atlas Scientists.
He had to admit Thorne's knowledge of espionage, subterfuge and infiltration tactics were staggering. Far beyond what experience Ironwood had.
The General spent his career as a front line soldier and rose through the ranks in the crucible of combat. Thorne's rise in her career was through Navel Intelligence, with a proclivity towards infiltration and wet work. She had a wealth of experience in manipulating public and private perception.
Ironwood wondered just how many of those techniques were used to maintain her popularity in Mantle and keep herself in power. And why the terrorist faction of the White Fang were such a non-threat in Mantle. They were always a nuisance in the same way a fly buzzing around was a nuisance, but the movement was all but completely crushed. The good Admiral was making sure Mantle couldn't fall to the same internal strife that plagued Beacon.
Through a clever mix of planted agents, political appointments and some of the best public relation schemes on Remnant, Thorne had effectively cut off the head of the snake and let the leaderless splinter group fall apart.
Of course, there were still lingering White Fang elements - Thorne insisted her best agents were quickly bringing that matter to a close - and the vast disparity between Atlas and Mantle. But with this new spirit of cooperation Ironwood believed they could make great strides to quell that divide.
"That still leaves us with the knotty problem of having to deal with this Salem woman." Thorne mused, stroking a scar running down her cheek in idle thought.
"If what Huntress Rose told us is true, then the only way to kill her is to help her understand the importance of life and death," Ironwood answered, absently scribbling on his tablet with a stylus.
No words, just an unintelligent little scrawl in the corner to keep his hand busy while he focused his thoughts.
"However, that's going to be difficult. If not borderline impossible. Her actions brought about the total destruction - no, extinction of the last generation of man. Understanding that, any normal man or woman burdened by conscience would be horrified beyond any capacity for description. At least, I would be."
"As would I. But we're both individuals with fierce morals centered around protecting our own. While it's nowhere near the scale of the entire race of man, you and I are both commanders - General and Admiral. I don't know about you, but when men die in the line of duty to carry out my orders, I feel and mourn those deaths keenly." Thorne offered, she exhaled a deep breath.
"From Rose Pup's accounts, not even the sanctity of blood matters to Salem. She slew their own children out of spite for Ozpin." Thorne's hands trembled.
At first, James thought it was from fatigue, but the thunderous expression on her scarred face showed her undiluted rage. "I'm a mother myself. No matter how he misbehaved as a lad, I could never imagine raising a hand to my son with lethal intent."
"We have similar sentiments, Iris. If the destruction Salem's wrought in this world and the last hasn't given her pause, or caused her to contemplate her actions, then I don't think any power on Remnant ever will."
Ironwood leaned back in his chair, feeling the weight of this information compounding the fatigue gnawing at his bones. From more than just working through the night. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed and his shoulders slumped in defeat.
"I suppose this proves that old thought experiment is true: lock a child in a wardrobe for their whole life, and they'll hardly be sane when they're let out. But philosophical discussion doesn't get us any closer to figuring out a way to destroy her."
Thorne tapped her stylus on her scroll. "I suggest we void the question of destruction altogether."
Ironwood frowned, "Elaborate."
"Salem cannot die - the gods themselves have made that so. Which means in order to defeat her, we need to expand our win conditions and shift our paradigm away from the path we know won't work." Thorne explained, her dull purple eyes glazed over as she pondered the situation, "Which means, our options are more akin to pacification, nullification and containment."
Ironwood leaned forwards, hands folded and chin resting on them. "Pacification isn't an option as much as killing her isn't. She'll stop at nothing to slaughter us all, and as you said, she killed her whole family in what amounts to a temper tantrum. I don't think negotiating in an option, unless you want us all to volunteer for mass suicide."
The Admiral muttered something along the lines of 'spiting the bitch'.
"As for nullification. Well, perhaps we can use the silver eyed warriors' magic to purge the Grimm influence from her. We have two working with us. But that still leaves the knotty problem of her magic. How can we possibly nullify that? We don't even understand the basic mechanics behind it."
Thorne hummed grimly in agreement, "We also have to take into account that she's the linchpin, the Queen of an army of monsters. Without her guidance, we'll likely have a tide of rampaging feral beasts assaulting our - no, the world's bastions. I don't think we can withstand those prolonged sieges without massive casualty projections across all kingdoms… Man and Faunas would likely take centuries to restore the population size."
Ironwood nodded at the dreary notion, he pressed on. "Containment carries the same issues as trying to nullify her. Especially since we've just established we have no real way of countering her magic. And while there is a stop-gap solution to potentially address that problem, I do not want to subject Huntress Rose or the elderly Winter Maiden in our care to that kind of experimentation.
"The former is suffering severe PTSD and the latter suffers from Alzheimer's disease. The treatment of their conditions alone makes it... highly impractical, and detrimental, for them to participate in that sort of thing."
"All of the above aside; there is another option we could consider," Thorne began slowly, she leaned forward and her brows creased in thought. "Please correct me if I'm wrong, but each Academy has a vault containing a godly relic, yes?"
Ironwood nodded, "That's correct."
"The Staff of Creation is here in Atlas, The Crown of Choice in Beacon, The Lamp of Knowledge is Haven-"
"Was in Haven," Ironwood interjected, "The Spring Maiden disappeared from the Battle of Haven after the vault was opened, so it couldn't be resealed. Which meant the lamp was transported here for safe keeping. That was the incident with the unidentified transport in Mantle some time back."
"Explains a few things." Thorne muttered then cleared her throat, warming to her line of thought. "Pardon me then. The Lamp of Knowledge is here. And the Sword of Destruction is under Shade. Are these all correct?"
"So far."
"And each Seasonal Maiden is keyed to these vaults. Fall for Vale, Summer for Vacuo and so on, yes?"
Ironwood nodded once more in the affirmative, growing suspicious. "Where, may I ask, are you going with this line of questioning Admiral?"
Thorne pressed her hands together and leaned on them, glaring down at her scroll for a moment before meeting Ironwood's skeptical gaze, "What if we retrieve the Sword from Shade with Summer Rose's power and use it to destroy the Lamp?"
"Destroy it?" Ironwood balked at the notion, eyes wide in shock. He shook his head, recovering quickly. "I don't even know if the relics could destroy each other, or what would happen if we somehow managed to achieve that?"
Thorne dismissed with a shrug, "It's purely a hypothetical notion."
Ironwood remained silent for a long moment, pondering the options. "I won't deny that... the idea has a certain appeal. Asset Denial is a tried and true battle strategy. And sometimes it's better to destroy an asset than let it fall into the hands of the enemy. But we haven't the slightest idea what'll happen if we somehow manage to destroy the relic."
"As I recall, the Lamp was called the 'Lamp of Knowledge' - and there's still one question left." Thorne mused pedantically.
The General shook his head firmly, "We haven't reached that level of desperation yet. We'll still need to explore all avenues first. And if we destroy the relic, then it might cause even more problems than Salem ever could."
The Admiral sighed, "Perhaps. Consider me utilitarian, but if it does cause some... ungodly cataclysm or whatever you'd like, so long as one human is standing in the end of it and Salem isn't? I'd consider that a victory."
"A Pyrrhic victory." Ironwood pointed out coldly.
Thorne simply shrugged again. "Sometimes those are all you can hope for."
"We're not at that point yet." The General reemphasized.
"Yet. I'm just offering alternatives. While it would be nice to hope for the best, experience has taught me to expect the worst. And the Grimm have a nasty way of surpassing even our foulest expectations."
"That's... regrettably true." Ironwood ran a hand through his hair, rubbing his eye while he thought. "In the meantime, we should try to explore other options and while we're at it, focus our attentions on developing the Amity Tower project."
Thorne sat up a little straighter in her chair, fixing the General with a hard look as if an idea had struck. "I think I may have an even better idea than just the relay tower, James. Tell me, have you heard of the Evernight Protocol?"
"No, I'm not familiar."
"That's not surprising. Only three people knew of the full scope of the protocol. Two of them are dead." Thorne tapped a few keys into her scroll.
Ironwood could see it prompt her for increasingly elaborate passwords and authorizations at least six times as she dove deeper into its storage banks. His own scroll chimed with an incoming message and it was a single file labelled 'ENP_ZEROSUM'. He glanced up at the Admiral before opening the file.
His scroll blew up with schematics, command lines and codes, a detailed action plan, estimated times to completion, material requirements and so on. He read through line by line, eyes widening slowly as he realized the breath of the plans contained within.
"What is this?"
"General Palatinate's legacy. A plan implemented 40 years ago when the concept of Altas' floating city was first devised. Consider this a sign of good will that I entrust it to you. Read through it, evaluate it and make your own assessments. Given the right provisions, it may serve a superior function to your proposed Communications Tower."
Thorne closed her scroll and collapsed it back into its compact form. "But for the time being, we've worked through the night. I think we'd both profit from some sleep. So if you'll excuse me, James, there is a bunk down in Mantle with my name on it."
Ironwood called over his shoulder, "Iris. Thank you. For trusting me, for helping me with this."
"We're all in the same sinking ship together James. It's pointless to be at each other's throats." Thorne said, idling flipping her scroll between her fingers. "That being said, we will still need to re-negotiation the resource distribution across our two states. However, I'm willing to postpone that discussion until repairs on the subterranean plate are complete."
"I'll try to organise another corps of engineers to assist you in the meantime. Many hands make light work."
"Indeed. Rest well, General." Thorne saluted him briskly,
"You too, Admiral." Ironwood returned the salute as his counterpart departed the chamber.
Taiyang Xiao Long wasn't a fan of the cold by any stretch of the imagination. He hadn't even see snow fall before his family moved to Vale to chase his father's job. He grew up in the rugged deserts of Vacuo and learned to love the heat.
So, while he was resolved to go to Atlas to help his family and friends no matter what, it didn't change the fact he bitterly hated the cold. It made him the polar opposite of his teammate and sister in law, Summer Rose.
Summer loved the cold. Even in the dead of winter in Vale, she'd be walking around with short sleeved shirts, teasing her team about being 'soft'. A jest that particularly ruffled Raven's feathers. The last thing the proud Bandit wanted to be was 'soft', even when she'd abandoned those ways for a time to dedicate herself to becoming a Huntress. Those rough edges never truly went away.
Even when they were married, Raven's idea of expressing her affection flipped back and forth between vitriolic and sincere fondness. It was just her way, she was one to dish out insults and snide remarks, and he'd counter them in term. There was never any true heat behind them, especially as they grew closer during those younger years. It was simply that her upbringing wouldn't allow her to express her sentiments any other way.
After everything she's done, after breaking his heart into pieces and leaving without so much as a good bye, Tai still loved the foul woman. Maybe its because he saw now what he saw back then, something redeemable. Something wanting to atone, but being too wrapped up and buried under pride to admit it.
Shaking his head of those thoughts, Tai did up the laces of his boots. He'd traded his shorts for longer pants and his vest was replaced by a wool-lined tanned jacket. His yellow emblem was printed on a black patch on its sleeve and inside were pockets and clasps for storing extra ammo cartridges. Across his bed was a large black cloth bag which contained his weapon, he picked it up and slung it over his shoulder by the strap.
Tai wasn't surprised to find Raven on her usual perch, sitting on the front porch with Omen lying beside her. She shed the trappings of the Bandit Queen and replaced her clothes with something new. She wore a Mistral style crossover sleeveless jacket. The vest was black, but the long coattails were a rich maroon detailed with the same pattern that once decorated her obi. She wore ankle boots with white thigh high stockings and black shorts. Her dark hair was pulled back, tied into a spiky tail. It only reached her shoulder blades now since she cut it when she'd returned to Patch.
"You ready to go?" Tai asked, hitching his weapon a little higher on his shoulder.
Zwei, the family dog, raised his head from the cushioned bed he slept on then happily jotted over to join his master at his side.
Raven didn't reply. Her expression was oddly morose, lost in thought. Second guessing things, most likely.
"Last chance to back out?" Tai offered gently. "You can just send me to Atlas and stay here. I… I won't judge you. And I'd actually appreciate someone looking after the place."
Zwei yipped at his side in agreement.
Raven remained silent, her eyes were glazed over. "There's a lot of things they don't talk about, you know. The Maidens."
Tai cocked an eyebrow up. He knew of Raven's position and power, but she never actually spoke openly over it beyond that first and only conversation. He assumed a seat beside her on the porch, offering an ear.
"Maidens are basically gods on Remnant. And that power always sparks jealousy and envy. Paints a target on whatever sap's unlucky enough to get saddled with the role. But the jealous don't know about the voices. The envious probably won't be so envious if they knew they'd have a running commentary in their head the rest of their lives."
"Voices?"
Raven made a derisive sound, somewhere between a scoff and a grunt. "Whispers, really. So faint you can't hear their words, but present enough to drive you gods damned mad if you're fool enough to try and understand them."
Tai thought that he should be concerned about his former wife's mental well being, but how the hell was he one to judge what was normal when it came to magic?
"After I killed Blossom and took her power, those whispers have been a raging chorus. When I killed, when I raided and pillaged, they somehow were louder than the screams of those hapless villagers."
Raven looked down at her hands, they were trembling. "I don't want to go to Atlas. I don't want to face them, I don't want to die fighting Salem. But ever since I made the choice to throw my life away like that hapless idiot; the whispers have gone silent."
She looked up at the early dawn sky. "I wonder if that means they're pleased with me? Or maybe they figured I was screwed either way and decided to give me calm before the shitstorm hits."
"I suppose it's the will of the Spring Maiden." Tai suggested with a shrug.
Raven scoffed and shook her head. "Years ago, I'd of hit you for saying something so damn stupid. But I'm honestly finding it hard to refute the point. Maybe it's the Will of the Maiden, or maybe it's my own guilty conscience."
She rose to her feet, Omen's scabbard attached to her belt and her spare hand on the pommel. "Whatever. Chances are I won't ever find out what's what. Let's go."
Raven drew her sword and sliced a portal into existence, its red and black energies building and folding in on itself.
"You never were one for sentimentality, were you?" Tai sighed, shaking his head.
"Move your ass or I'm leaving you behind." Raven ordered haughtily and Tai shot to his feet when he saw her actually walk towards the portal.
"He-Hey wait! Let me lock the house up first, come on!" When Tai dashed back inside the house, he could hear Raven addressing Zwei directly.
"Let me guess: you're coming with us?"
Zwei yipped happily in reply.
Author's note:
So we have some planning in motion. And Tai and Raven are on the road. I feel I should sing a folk song.
I welcome feedback and criticism,
Aurora313