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Cover Art: Serox

Chapter 33

Ozpin?

No.

It couldn't be. Could it? He'd been so cagey of late, switching from complete support in finding and redeeming the man stood before him to wanting his death, siding with the council and throwing away everything they'd worked for. No one did that without reason. Motivation was something important for a military officer to understand; not only in motivating your own people but understanding why your enemies were doing what they were, how to strike at their motives and how to break them apart.

Ironwood snarled through gritted teeth, levelling his gun on Jaune Arc and refusing to be swayed by words alone. Investigation would come later, but the first and most important part of a hostage situation was not letting the criminal take control. He was the one with the gun and, just as importantly, he was one of the few who could sway the man before him.

"Release Winter to me, Jaune. You don't want to do this."

"I don't." the boy said. "I really don't. But I will. I'll do whatever I have to."

"You don't have to do this to get your sisters back. Saphron and Sable are safe and free from Chivalric Arms – and yes, I know about them. They've attacked and killed my people as well. I dragged Matthew Fields to court. I have people watching his every move." James lowered his weapon and extended a hand. "Help me. Let me help you. We'll drag them down and find Amber. I can help you, Jaune, but only if you let me."

The piercing blue eyes lost a little of their sharpness. He didn't think Jaune Arc noticed it, but for the briefest of moments those deadly orbs trembled, hinting at a young man, really more of a boy, caught in a situation he had no understanding of, trapped between two sides that wanted him dead. A wild animal backed into a corner that knew it was dead but wanted to give its life dearly.

A frightened and hurting young man.

And then, they were swallowed up. His lids closed, and when he opened his eyes again, merely the space of a blink, they were hard and unyielding. Cold and full of bitter rage.

"If you'd found me a month back, I'd have jumped at the opportunity," he said. "It's too late now."

"It's never too late, Jaune."

"My father always used to tell me about Semblances. He'd say they're a big responsibility, son, something that can be used for good, evil or just to make your own life easier, but that, at the end of the day, they're nothing more than a tool. It's up to you to know where the line lays, and what it'll take to make you cross it."

James pushed back his own bitter thoughts, thoughts of what his own Kingdom, his own people, had done. "It's good advice. Your father was a wise man."

"He was. And he was gunned down trying to save my sisters and I from your people."

"Not mine," James stressed. "Never mine."

"The people you represent. The people you protect. Those people!" he spat, pointing his gun at the dead bodies of the CA agents laid across the floor. "You can say you're not with them all you want, but you're with Atlas, and Atlas has decided it's on their side. You can't promise me anything, can you? You can't even promise to keep Saphron and Sable safe, because the second Chivalric wants them they'll have your Council take them away from you. Make up some bullshit reason and order you to give them up, and you will. You'll have to. You're a soldier. Soldiers follow orders."

A good soldier did. James had always considered himself a good soldier, always been proud of it and proud of Atlas, the technological leader, the defenders of Remnant, the Kingdom of Tomorrow. Those self-proclaimed titles were held dear to everyone. Propaganda, he'd be the first to admit, but not lies. Not wrong. Atlas was all of those things.

He'd just never thought to ask how.

"Maybe you're a better person," Jaune said, bumbled, really, he was ranting and pointing. "But that doesn't matter. None of it does. If you side with them then you're siding with Chivalric." Ironwood flinched. That stung more than any other accusation. "And that means you're siding against me."

It really was that simple, he supposed. Even if he could convince the boy to down arms, he couldn't guarantee him anything. Atlas would demand his head. Chivalric wanted the body. Ozpin. Well, he wasn't sure what Ozpin wanted, but he'd sure as hell be finding out.

"How does this end then, Arc? You waiting up here for me with Winter strapped to a chair. Are you going to kill her? She has a family, too. A sister who loves her. Maybe not as good a father and a mother as you had, but do you think it's fair to rip her away from them?"

"Was it fair for you to do it to my family!?"

"No." Ironwood replied calmly. "So, are you going to do the same? Going to show your Chivalric side?"

Jaune gritted his teeth. His eyes flashed gold momentarily, too short a moment for Ironwood to take the shot. By the time Null came, it was gone. The hand on the back of Winter's chair gripped down so hard the wood creaked.

"I want," Jaune said angrily, "To make a deal."

"Atlas won't deal with you. You know that."

"I'm not asking Atlas to make the deal. I'm talking to you."

That made the situation even more dangerous. "In your own words I'm nothing more than an obedient soldier. What makes you think I'd deviate from Atlas on this?"

"Because I was nothing more than a boy who wanted to become a huntsman until my family was ripped apart. I wouldn't have ever thought of breaking the law, let alone killing people. Just as you wouldn't go against orders." The gun touched Winter's temple. "Unless you had something you were willing to go against orders for. Or someone."

"Winter is my subordinate. Nothing more."

"I guess you're the perfect soldier then. That means I can kill her and you won't bat an eye." The hammer pulled back. "Oh well. Sorry Winter."

Ironwood flung an arm forward. "Wait!"

Jaune Arc smiled.

James Ironwood swore.

/-/

The crowds outside shrieked as gunfire started once again. Police herded them back, many with riot shields to the front, while soldiers stood before, guns trained on the windows flashing with gunfire on the upper floor.

Clover pushed through, fighting his way past stunned soldiers and into the main foyer where the elevators and stairs were covered by fire teams. One was being used to bring huddling figures down and out, soldiers running with them, hands on their sides and escorting them out.

"Get the civilians out!" Clover ordered. "Prioritise the evacuation. Marrow! Marrow, what's happening with the top floors!?"

"Clover!" Marrow hurried up, the faunus pushing through the armed blockade on the staircase. He rushed up and snapped a quick salute. "Sir. The top floors are being escorted down the rear staircase. We've blockaded the floor the General and Null are on to keep them safe. We're bringing them out the back entrance into medical APC's."

"Blockaded? How?"

"Soldiers, shields and aura for the most part. Put enough bodies there that not even Null could break through. Vine is scanning the floors for any more civilians holing up, but the floor they're on was rented out entirely by Chivalric Arms."

"And their civilians?"

"None, sir. That's the thing. It's rented out by them, but the hotel staff don't remember any coming. I checked the records, however, and they say the guests arrived and were booked in."

"Hacked. It has to be. You're sure the staff didn't see anything?"

"As sure as anyone can be when you're talking to people fearing for their lives. We can check the footage once this is all over." Marrow looked up as a fresh gunfight began and a large boom echoed through the building. Fire blasted out a window, sending glass raining down on the foyer outside. Despite the fact the civilians were being held far enough back to be safe, they screamed and covered their faces.

"Assuming there's anything left of the building." Clover said.

"Why are those civvies this close?"

"Ask the VPD. We told them to push them back and the best they can do is form a cordon. Atlas MP would have had the area clear for three blocks by now. More if we asked nicely. Elm's right. These guys can't tell their asses from their elbows."

Marrow snickered, as much at the uncharacteristic insult as the joke. Clover wasn't normally one for mockery, but the situation certainly deserved it. Those civilians were just hovering around like they were watching street theatre, and if one caught a bullet for their stupidity then he was sure Atlas would be the ones blamed for it.

A fresh explosion sounded off to their left – still high up, but closer to their position. Brick rained down over the hotel's car park, a serious among of it sent falling down and shattering like frag grenades on the concrete, pelting nearby cars, smashing windows and sending car alarms blaring and beeping away. Clover strode toward it, signalling with one hand for a team to follow.

"Divert the non-coms to the front," he ordered Marrow. "I'll check this out."

Clover didn't get the chance. A body came crashing down into the car park, heavy enough to cause concrete to splinter. The white coat stained black told him who, even before Ironwood whipped it off and exposed his metallic arm, aiming his handgun up and firing at what must have been an opening in the wall.

"Sir!" Clover barked, hurrying over.

"Back!" General Ironwood roared, holding a hand out to stop him. "Focus on the civilians, Clover. That is an order!"

Gunshots cracked off the concrete and sent Ironwood diving for cover behind a flashing and blaring car, rolling over its bonnet to land by its back wheel. Boots on metal sounded outside, likely someone running down the fire escape, and from the angle of the gunfire he'd have placed the attacker on the first floor, practically just above ground and firing down. Clover's hand itched toward his rod.

Null. He was there.

"Clover!" Ironwood yelled. "The civilians! Get them out now!"

Damn it. Clover turned and rushed back to the doors before he could second guess himself. General Ironwood had the right of it of course; Atlas would be torn to shreds if their problem led to foreign citizens dying and given this was a hotel it was presumably full of people from every Kingdom in Remnant. They didn't need that kind of problem.

Marrow already had a stream of people coming out, many of them covered in sheets to hide their identities and prevent any panic. They were being ushered down a corridor of soldiers, flanked from any harm and guided toward several APC's parked on the front entrance, either driven up the steps or on the paved floor beside the fountain out front of the hotel. They'd be covered them from the gunfight now taking place on the ground floor. A quick look back showed General Ironwood still pinned, but Clover knew it was intentional.

The gunfire wasn't the real threat if Null was outside of fifteen metres. The real threat was Ironwood moving and causing the trajectory of bullets to place non-combatants in harm's way. He was pinned because he chose to be pinned in such a way that any stray shots would impact empty cars, concrete and the exterior wall of the private car park.

"E-Excuse me! Please!" The man's voice had Clover's head snapping toward an ajar door by the far wall, the opposite end of the lobby from the car park and what looked to be a staff-only door. "My wife is injured, please help."

"Shit." Clover tapped a soldier and nodded his head to follow, leaving the rest in line as he jogged over with his help in tow. "Sir," he called. "We're on our way. You're safe now. Don't worry-?" He pushed the door open only to come face to face with a child.

A girl. Blonde hair, bright green eyes and skin so pale he might have mistaken her for a Schnee. He'd have placed her at fifteen, maybe sixteen at best. He quickly looked away from her eyes, shaking the strange sense of oddness away and taking in the man in the room and the injured woman. They were all three of them blonde and pale, and the man was down on one knee with a woman laid on the floor and her shoulders and head resting on his leg. Clover noted the door at the back and the staircase beyond.

"We found a way down through the staff's access," the man explained. "We got knocked off our feet when one of the explosions happened and my wife banged her head on a step. I didn't dare move with all the gunshots."

"You did the right thing in staying still, sir. Don't worry. You're safe now. Secure the injured," he ordered the soldier, who slowly moved forward and knelt, placing his hands under the woman's legs and shoulders to lift her up.

It wasn't how a soldier would normally carry someone – that being over the shoulder to allow a free arm for holding a weapon – but head injuries required more care and slinging her upside down could make it worse. The man stood behind the soldier, nervously wringing his hands together over the head of an orange walking stick. Clover's head tilted. The man didn't appear to have any difficulty walking that would require aid. A choked sound from his left had him looking to the girl. Her eyes were narrowed with what seemed to be pain and a thin trickle of blood had run down from her nose over her top lip.

"Is your daughter hurt?" Clover asked quickly.

"N-No," she forced out.

"Emma suffers from migraines," the father explained. "Please, can we get away from this place?"

"Yes. We have medical teams outside waiting for you. If you'll come with me, sir."

"What about that dreadful man? Isn't he out there still gunning people down?"

"We shall cover you the entire way," Clover said with all the patience he could muster. Training kicked in, drowning his irritation with state mandated politeness. "We're trained for this, sir. Please have faith in us and we'll see you and your family to safety."

"Yes. Well." The man hunched his shoulders and pulled his coat up to cover his face from the back and sides. The daughter did, too. Clover let them. If it made them feel better about the situation, he wouldn't argue. "Do lead on then, gentlemen. We'll be in your care."

Clover went first, peeking out and pleased to see the area more than secure. Null and Ironwood were fighting in the car park still, and it looked like battle had been joined on the floor now. That kept most people's attention that way, and the soldiers who had been forming a tunnel for civilians had been moved over by Marrow to form a wall facing that way, bodies linked and aura prepared to block any shots coming their way.

Motioning for the soldier carrying the wife to move, Clover followed with a hand on the girl's shoulder, trusting the father to keep up. They covered the distance between the office and the front windows, out into the cold night air and down the steps. Others were being ushered into APC's but the one the civilians were being led to looked much too full. Clover tapped the soldier's shoulder and pointed to a medical one to the side, diverting with the family toward it.

The soldier lowered the wife into the back, snapped a quick salute and then hurried back to the hotel to look for more. Clover nodded, pleased, and helped the girl up. She still looked to be struggling, no doubt terrified.

"You'll be safe now." Clover told them. "Please wait here so we can conduct an accurate register of everyone within. We want to make sure everyone is accounted for and safe. Our teams will look after your mother," he assured the girl. "You needn't worry."

Speak of the devil. Two medics came hurrying over with a green first aid box between them. They looked at the blonde woman in the back seat and then up to Clover with wide eyes and clear alarm. They must have thought she'd been shot or something.

"Head wound," he explained. "Possible concussion and more. There aren't any gun wounds. I'll leave her to you. Try and get her identity and make sure she's given a full check over-"

"Identity?" the one on the left stammered. "Sir, it's Winter Schnee."

/-/

The Council meeting was held in the Vanguard's communication room and saw the council members blown up on holographic images like leering angelic figures surrounding him. The only relief to Ironwood was knowing that was more a factor of where the projectors had been placed than anything. In their own locations, they, too, would feel like they were the ones surrounded. It helped a little, though the agonised twitching of his face as a bullet was removed from his arm – his good arm – didn't go unmissed by anyone.

"James." Sol said, rare concern in his voice. "You're injured."

"He's well enough for the meeting," Jacques Schnee said snidely.

"That's not your place to decide, Mr Schnee. James. Are you prepared to report?"

Hissing as the bullet was removed and let fall into a tray of water, Ironwood gripped his seat. The medic soothed his arm with rubbing alcohol, and somehow the burning sensation was more pleasure than pain. As the suture began, he found his own happy place in glaring through Sol's spectral figure at the wall behind.

"As prepared as I can be."

"Very well. Then report."

"Jaune Arc escaped. Zero civilian casualties. We lost a few of our own."

"More than a few from what I'm told," a councillor remarked. "There was a soldier thrown from the window onto concrete!"

"Not one of ours." Ironwood stressed the words carefully. "They were rogue military agents who, after careful cross-referencing, were employed by Chivalric Arms."

"Security for their personnel, no doubt."

"Security bearing military weaponry authorised only to be used by Atlas."

"Chivalric Arms are our main weapons manufacturer, General. Of course they'd have the same equipment. I really don't see the point-"

"You do. You see the point damn well. You're just avoiding it."

"General. You will not-"

"The General is in some distress." Sol said calmly. "As you can well see, councillor. I'm sure you can forgive him for being brusque when he is having an open wound sewn shut before our eyes. General, we will look into this. Leave it with us. In the meantime, good work on conducting the raid and preventing any civilian fatalities. People are for the most part praising Atlas' quick response to the crisis and the manner in which it evacuated and protected the civilians."

"Hngh." Ironwood nodded, leaning back as the medic tied and cut the thread.

"The terrorist still escaped!" someone said.

"I was under the impression that it was more important to get the civilians out alive."

"You-"

"Are correct." Sol interrupted again, glaring off to the side. "General Ironwood took the correct course of action. We will not debate that."

"It works in our favour," another said. "As of today, the Council of Vale has accepted that their law enforcement forces are woefully unprepared for the threat posed by Jaune Arc and the White Fang. They have asked our aid in providing security for the Vytal Festival."

Great. More responsibility. Normally he'd have been thrilled with the chance to clamp down, but they were being stretched thin as it was and this would cut into his investigations on Chivalric, as the Council well knew. James waved the medic away, sitting back as the door opened and closed behind him. He tugged on his coat, leaving it open over his bare and bandaged chest, listening with only half an ear as the Council went over how much of an honour and opportunity this was.

"It will be your responsibility as the commanding officer on the scene, General."

"Yes sir." James saluted lazily.

"This is no laughing matter, Ironwood. Jaune Arc has decided to make himself an enemy of all four of the Kingdoms today. He's no longer a misunderstood youth acting out. He's a monster no better than the Grimm. We cannot let him cause a scene at the Vytal Festival, especially not with us being in charge of its security. Hunt. Him. Down."

"With all due respect, it's what we've been doing for months, sir."

"No. What you've been doing is going behind the Council's back incriminating companies that have already been cleared by thorough investigation. You have been chasing your own fantastical stories in the hopes of redeeming someone who is, simply put, irredeemable."

"I personally have as a guest one woman who corroborates his story as being a victim of human experimentation."

"Well of course his own family is going to agree with him," another person said. "They're working together. I say that if she believes the nonsense she spouts, we should let her present her argument in court. The justice system will soon take care of it and silence these pointless conspiracy theories."

"The girl is traumatised." Ironwood growled.

"Then her words will be taken as the hysterical mumblings they are! Your job, General, is to follow orders. It is to serve the Kingdom to which you have sworn your loyalty. It is not to question us, it is not to hold your own inquisition and it is certainly not to sympathise with criminals. You should have killed him tonight. He should be dead already, so we can get to forgetting this sorry chapter in Atlas' history ever happened."

"What of the illegal military elements found in the hotel? They were armed to the teeth and opened fire in a civilian centre. From our early investigation we know they shot first – and that they gunned down a hotelier."

"That has not yet been established."

"We found casings matching their weapons in the young man's body. They don't match Arc's. The shots came from them. They killed a Valean citizen."

"That," Sol stressed, "has not been established. This meeting is concluded. You have your orders."

The holographs winked out. All but one. Sol remained, standing firmly before James and looking down on him. Ironwood frowned, turning his head to the side to stare the man down. "I thought the meeting was over."

"Officially. I thought you and I should chat."

"I'm not in the mood."

"Neither am I. Let's drop pretences then. You really need to stop going against the Council like this, James. I can't cover for you forever." Sol removed his military cap and set it down beside him. Off the hologram. "I heard Arc has associates."

"Two people," James replied. "According to Clover anyway. They masqueraded as a father and daughter with some kind of illusionary Semblance, and that corroborates with Winter's report on her defeat when she woke up later. They were trying to get Winter out, possibly as a hostage, but Clover panicked them into running after knocking him out."

"Fortunate that he was there. It's his Semblance, isn't it?"

"We believe so."

"And the target escaped you after engaging in a gunfight? How did he get away?"

"Destroyed a wall in a carpark and pushed into a crowd of people. I couldn't shoot without endangering them, and the panic caused by the gunfire gave him the perfect chance to get out. If Vale's police force wasn't so useless, we would have had that crowd contained."

"The Atlas Military Police are the best in the world at their jobs. It's a shame Vale never followed our lead there. I hear there was a break in aboard the Vanguard, too."

"You're hearing a lot lately, Sol."

"I have my sources. Answer the question."

"Ruby Rose, student of Beacon, taken from under our noses." Ironwood snapped out. He hadn't even begun going over that, but her team was ripping itself apart and Ozpin… Ozpin hadn't even contacted him. "I haven't had a chance to look into it, but I doubt you can pin it on Arc. He was at a completely different crime scene. I'd say Chivalric, but then what do I know? Apparently, I'm off running my own personal crusade."

"You really are taking this personally, James." Sol sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his finger and thumb against the insides of his eye sockets. "I've had numerous requests to have you replaced, you know."

Not unexpected. "Why haven't you?"

"Because I know you're the best man Atlas has for this job. Because whatever you may think of me, you and I have Atlas' best interests at heart. No one else can do what you do. Not even a fraction as well as you do, James. I'm putting my neck out speaking for you. I hope you understand that."

"Why don't we both cut the bullshit, Sol. What's the point of all this talk of an investigation if we're going to make it up? Why waste time pretending?"

"Because, James, it helps people sleep easier at night."

"Chivalric killed an innocent man."

"They did." Sol admitted. "You know they did. I know they did. What everyone else knows, however, is whatever we choose to tell them. Ask yourself, James, what do they really want to hear? That a young man died to a registered Atlas company and that we'll be doing nothing to punish them? That we don't care about one random Valean citizen? Because we don't. What is one person in the grand scheme of things? He's not even an important individual."

Ironwood gripped the chair tight. "He's important to someone. Friends, family, loved ones."

"And those loved ones will be happier living the lie where Jaune Arc is responsible, and where the greatest Kingdom in Remnant is going to bring him to justice. They will sleep easier knowing – or at least believing – that their loved one's killer was brought to justice."

"That's who we are then. Liars."

"It's who we've always been. I don't like it any more than you do, James, but I love my country. I will be the glue that holds Atlas together, both the good parts of it and the dirty. And if that means brushing a few things under the rug? Well, it won't be the first time. Or the last."

"And the people?"

"The people will believe what they are told. They're more comfortable that way. They don't want to know how harsh the world really is; they want to live in a happy little bubble where they're safe. Safe singing the praises of Atlas and watching our brave men and women push back the Grimm. Jaune Arc isn't new. He isn't special. He's one more crisis Atlas will rise to meet. The Great War. The Faunus War. Mountain Glenn. The White Fang. Jaune Arc. We've seen them all. In the end, it's the victor who writes history. The people will be happy so long as they're on the winner's side."

General Ironwood shook his head and slumped back, eyes closing and mouth suddenly dryer than the Vacuo desert. "This isn't the Atlas I signed up to defend."

"It is, General. You just never realised it. I'll leave you for now. Rest. Recover. But remember one thing. The only reason you haven't been replaced is because I have done my best to keep you where you are. I truly do believe you're the best man for the job. But…" He sighed unhappily. "You're not irreplaceable. This is your last chance, James. No more. Kill Jaune Arc or I will personally find someone who can, and more, I'll have Saphron Cotta-Arc and Sable Arc taken off your hands."

The hologram winked off. General Ironwood breathed out through nis nose, nostrils flaring as he peeled his fingers away from the armrest and pushed a button on his intercom system. Vine's voice came through asking what he needed.

"Prep a shuttle to take me to Beacon. Immediately."

/-/

The golden elevator dinged open.

Ironwood strode out, taking in the scene of Ozpin's office in an instant. Ozpin was behind his desk, sat with a sympathetic frown on his face. Behind him, Glynda was looming tall and imposing, glaring down at Qrow Branwen, who had his hands on Ozpin's desk and was shouting so loud he was spitting into the man's face.

"-don't care who was responsible! I'm going to find her, and when I do, I will personally rip the person responsible a new asshole!"

"Qrow, we don't know who is behind this or why. You mustn't jump to conclusions. Ah. Here is James right now."

"Ironwood?" Qrow pushed back. He looked unusually sober. Painfully so. The man's eyes were narrow, and his hands balled into fists. "You fucking idiot!" he raged. "Ruby was under your protection and you let her be taken! If you don't find her- ah!?"

He cut off as Ironwood placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him bodily aside. Eyes locked on Ozpin's, Ironwood marched toward the desk, planted his hands upon it and then threw it aside, drawing a startled curse from Qrow and a cry of alarm from Glynda. The wood shattered on the floor nearby, exploding into splinters.

Ozpin's glasses fell to the floor as Ironwood picked him up by his collar, dragging him off the chair and walking him back to the wall, standing on and crushing his glasses along the way. He slammed Ozpin back against the huge clockface covering the back wall, lips peeled back, and teeth shown in a wild snarl.

"Why!?"

"James!" Glynda shouted. "Unhand the headmaster at once-"

"Why did you take her!?" Ironwood demanded, shaking the immortal. "You knew what was happening. You knew the risks. You painted a target on your school – on the backs of every single student attending. Why did you take her!?"

"Ozpin has no idea where Ruby Rose is!" Glynda argued. "I will use my Semblance if you don't put him down, James. Ozpin, tell him."

"Amber Arc!" Ironwood roared, silencing her. "Jaune Arc's sister. The one he's busy ripping Vale apart trying to find. You took her. You stole her from him and Chivalric Arms, and worse," he snapped. "You didn't tell me! That's why you wanted the Blake Belladonna in Beacon. That's why you wanted Arc executed. That's why Chivalric took your silver-eyed warrior!"

"Silver- Ruby?" Qrow croaked out desperately. "You… You know who took her…? But Ozpin. No, you couldn't have. He wouldn't. It's Summer's child…"

Ironwood ignored him, shaking Ozpin violently. The man never once dropped his calm smile, taking the abuse without so much as a wince. There was no confusion either, no shock or disbelief that might indicate innocence.

"Why?" Ironwood spat, tightening his hands on his old friend's scarf and lifting him off the floor. "Why risk all this – everyone in Beacon's lives – to steal Arc's sister?"

"Ozpin would never-" Glynda began.

"Because that girl," Ozpin said calmly, "has the potential to change everything…"

Best intentions, Ozpin. Best intentions.

Next Chapter: 5th October

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