Hello again! Time to check in on some Professors...

23. It's Only Treason if We're Caught

It was that stupid hatchling.

Justice stalked through the camp, smoke curling from his nostrils. He couldn't stop thinking about that tiny little monster. Was she still alive? Was she cold, all alone in the woods? Hungry? If they'd stayed another day, would the faunus have been able to catch her?

Talking about it with Harbinger was useless. All he would say was that she ran away, she hurt Justice's face, she was a traitor. Justice knew he was probably right, but after a while he couldn't stand hearing it anymore.

Then he sniffed the air and remembered—there was someone else he could talk to. Justice circled around the lab, following his nose to where Brand lay on his back on a flat rock, enjoying the last of the evening sunlight. The human was with him.

Justice hissed quietly and settled onto his haunches to wait. He glared at Hazel, who looked back at him with a mild smile on his face as he scratched Brand behind his horns. The older dragon opened one eye halfway, hummed to acknowledge Justice's presence, then went back to half-dozing.

Hazel stayed there for more than an hour. Justice watched him the whole time, occasionally baring his teeth when the human spoke quietly to Brand. Finally, he gave the dragon a parting pat on the nose and got to his feet. "I'd better ask Sienna if anything needs doing."

Brand made a soft, disappointed noise, sticking his neck out as Hazel walked away.

Justice growled. "Why do you let him do that?"

"I don't know." Brand rolled onto his side, wrapping his tail around himself. "It makes it hurt less."

"He's a human."

Brand hummed, grudgingly accepting the point.

"So how can you trust him?"

"I don't have to." Brand yawned and stretched, powerful claws flexing in the air. "If he starts making it hurt more instead, I'll bite him."

"What do you mean, if?"

Brand grumbled and raised his head, looking directly at Justice for the first time. "Most humans are monsters, and we should fight them," he said, like he was a sage imparting great wisdom. "But Hazel is different." He paused, tilting his head slightly to one side. "The singing Schnee isn't all bad, either."

Justice snorted indignantly. He'd heard so much about how brave and strong Brand was from Ilia—but he was starting to suspect the older dragon would call anyone a friend as long as they scratched his ears first. He was slow and groggy, and he hardly ever helped out around the camp. All he wanted to do was sleep. Lazy, trusting... weak.

"You've gone soft without your rider."

Brand's narrowed to slits. He reared up on his hind legs, flaring his wings as he let out an enraged roar. Justice knew him as thin and sickly, had seen him lumbering along under the weight of his load of lab equipment with his head hanging low. Now he was upright, muscles standing out in his neck and chest, his claws biting deep into the stone.

Justice bolted, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. Brand didn't chase him. He just stood there, fire flickering between his jaws, watching.

All bark, Justice thought, disgusted. No bite.

The room was windowless. Four walls, heavy cinder block, painted a dull off-white color. One door, thick, barred from the outside. A table, two chairs and two cots. They'd been allowed to stay in the same room—the council obviously didn't think they'd be able to escape, even if they had time to plan together.

Peter had to agree with them on that. He turned on his heel and paced the length of the cell, straining his ears. Almost an hour ago, he'd thought he'd heard a cry from outside. Maybe it was just his imagination... but if Pepper was calling him, he couldn't miss it. He would listen. He owed her that much.

Glynda sat at the table. Motionless. Sometimes she looked up and followed his pacing, back and forth across the room, her eyes slightly unfocused. Listless.

Nautilus couldn't call for her anymore.

Squaring his jaw, Peter took a seat opposite her. He couldn't afford to give up—and that meant focusing on those that weren't lost yet. Pepper, Glynda... maybe Ragnar. He hadn't seen him fall, but he had trouble imagining him leaving the battle willingly.

It was a short list, if he left like that... so he didn't. He forced himself to go through every student and every dragon that had gotten away while the faculty bought time. Barty and Gust, Ozpin, Nautilus... they'd all done their duty. Now it was his turn.

"Glynda?"

She glanced up. Said nothing.

"I know this is difficult." He cleared his throat, feeling intensely awkward. Barty should have been the one doing this. "I can't imagine..."

"Thank you for trying, Peter, but I'd prefer to skip this conversation if it's all the same to you."

"I will not desist. As dark as things are, we mustn't give up—"

"Who said anything about giving up?" she snapped. He'd never been so happy to be glared at. "I'm functional. Anything better than that can wait until we've gotten out of here."

"Ah." Peter blinked a few times. He didn't quite understand how Glynda's mind worked even in the best of circumstances, which these certainly weren't. He'd expected more... well... more. Bursts of rage, despondence, a fist shaken at the sky... instead he felt a certain nostalgia for the dragonry's annual budget meetings.

It would have to do.

He cleared his throat and said, "I don't suppose you've come up with any ideas?"

"A few." She glanced at the door—and there was the piercing stare that had been missing. "It'll have to involve their creatures." Her lip curled. "We don't exactly have the time to tunnel our way to freedom with a toothpick."

"Though we don't lack the determination for it!"

Glynda pinched the bridge of her nose.

The 'creature,' as Glynda had described her, arrived sometime later. Without either a clock or a window, it was hard to guess how long. They had been paid periodic visits from uniformed members of Vale's military, but they were mostly low-level recruits who were only there to give them food and a few beaten up paperbacks. This one was clearly different—she wore an insignia on her shoulder, and carried herself with the air of someone who was used to having her orders followed. Peter offered her his seat, and received a poisonous glare in return.

"I'm sure you know why I'm here."

A smirk spread slowly across Glynda's face. "You can't find them." She put a hand down flat on the tabletop. "Excellent."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Peter Port. Come with me." He stood up, smiling and nodding to Glynda as he left—it was the best reassurance he could muster.

Peter was led down a hallway and into another, smaller room. He sat, sipped the coffee that had been left for him. The woman that had brought him there left without another word.

He spent a long time waiting. The coffee turned stone cold, and he thought he heard another noise outside that might have been Pepper. The chair turned out to be intensely uncomfortable. He got up and paced some more.

The woman caught him at it as she reentered the room. She glared pointedly at the chair until he sat down, then followed suit.

"I am Sargent Maise."

"Peter Port. Professor at Beacon Dragonry."

"Not anymore."

He shrugged. "I suspected I wouldn't be."

Maise watched him for a moment. "Well," she said, "I'd like to talk about where you plan to go from here."

"Meaning?"

"Whether you face criminal charges, or go into quiet retirement in the country somewhere, is entirely up to you." Maise gestured at the empty mug. "More coffee? Tea? We only have vending machine food, unfortunately."

"I'd like to see Pepper."

"Your dragon." Maise tapped her fingers on the table, giving him a frighteningly unreadable look. "I might be able to arrange that."

Ah. Here it was.

"I've just been talking to your colleague. We'd like you to confirm what she's told us about the rogue students. If your stories match up, we can make you both much more comfortable."

Peter smiled sadly. "Not very convincing."

"Excuse me?"

"Your rapscallions just killed her partner." Both his hands clenched into fists. "You attacked our students and their dragons. If you did talk to Glynda... I expect she told you to go to hell."

Maise scowled, but her small sigh made him think that she'd expected that answer. "Very well." She got to her feet and stopped at the door. "I'll speak to the higher ups. I think I can convince them to let you stand outside with Pepper during the procedure."

The word fell like an anvil on something fragile in his chest. It wasn't the meaning itself—he'd known since the council stormed Beacon that this was a possibility. It was the casual way she said it, like it was an afterthought.

Peter braced himself against the table. Maise had to lead him outside by the arm, pulling him back to the other room.

Glynda was talking. Her hand came down on his shoulder, partly shielding him from Maise. "...can't be that much more difficult to guard another unarmed professor," she snapped, "and I suspect none of you want to deal with the aftermath. You never do."

"Fine." Maise waved her hand dismissively. "I'll suggest that you stand with him." She gave each of them a long, searching look. "I'll be back tomorrow morning. That will be your last chance to show more cooperation than you have today."

Then she was gone. Peter fell into one of the chairs, with Glynda rubbing soothing circles on his back. He couldn't speak. It was too much—too wrong that she was the one comforting him.

"I'm sorry," he said, staring blankly at the surface of the table.

"No regrets," Glynda snapped. "Not for this. Not ever, understand?"

Peter gritted his teeth, and nodded.

A metal index finger tapped one corner of the page. Then it slid underneath it, flipping to the next.

Dragonmaster Ozpin was killed by an unknown sniper during the inspection, at which point his dragon attacked council representatives. Faculty members and their dragons joined the violence, as did many students. Army personnel defended themselves and council representatives.

Many rogue students fled the premises. Information regarding the whereabouts of...

James skimmed over the list of names.

Professors Glynda Goodwitch and Peter Port have been taken into custody, along with the fire dragon Pepper. Culling is to be carried out as soon as possible, pending written confirmation from the Department of Draconic Affairs...

James skimmed through the rest of the report, but it never mentioned Nautilus or Ragnar. Neither would have abandoned their riders. He stared at the page for a long moment. Then, softly, "Damn it."

He reread the document, more thoroughly this time, but there were no more answers to be found. No indication of who had shot Ozpin. Only the same list of wanted teenagers, a thorough report of every injury sustained by the council's soldiers... and a small paragraph listing Ozpin, Bartholomew, Gust, and Nautilus as deceased. No mention of Ragnar. Did that mean the council had captured him? Why? There was no mention in the report—

James stopped when he noticed a small parenthetical that he'd previously skipped over. It was the address of a detention facility in southern Vale where the "dangerous rogue professors" were detained.

A hand came up to rub his temple. Ozpin was gone. Leo had lost what little sway he had with the council. Shade still hadn't changed its policy of sending deformed hatchlings to the pits. It was vital that he keep his position in Atlas.

Culling is to be carried out as soon as possible...

He picked up his scroll.

"Sir?"

"Specialist Schnee. I'd like to speak with you for a moment."

She was prompt, as always. His office door opened minutes later.

James tapped the report. "The official word on what happened at Beacon just came in. There's a list of students that escaped the school. I thought you should know... your sister is on it."

"What?" Winter took a half-step forward before visibly smothering the impulse to look at a confidential report and read for herself. "Specter isn't deformed."

"No. Neither is Storm, the dragon that Penny bonded to." He waved a hand helplessly. "I can only assume they followed one or both of their teammates."

"Is that all, sir?"

James paused. Winter had tensed as though she was anticipating something unpleasant. A fight, even. Why—ah.

"I won't ask you to look for them." I wouldn't do that to you. "Conflict of interest."

She kept her face mostly neutral, but he saw her shoulders relax. "Of course."

Silence fell. She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, while James stared blankly at the report in his hand. There'd be no going back from this. It was an idiotic risk, when things were already at a breaking point...

But he'd never been very good at sitting back and doing nothing.

"Winter. Could you get a message to your sister?"

"Yes. Why?"

"The report included an address where two Beacon professors and one of their dragons are being held. The dragon is slated to be culled."

"I don't see the connection."

He told her the address.

Winter watched him for a long moment. "That would be treason. Sir."

"Which is why it's a request, and not an order." He set the report down on his desk with a heavy sigh. "There aren't many ways this information might leak, but I think the council will suspect espionage before they look at us." Students had gotten their hands on Leo's letters to and from the council, after all.

"Why involve Weiss?"

"My hands are tied." He gestured out the window, at the Atlas Dragonry's campus. "I have my own students to protect. But... there over two dozen rogue students listed in that report. It makes sense that some of them would stick together."

"So they take the risk instead," she said flatly.

James grimaced. "I never said I liked it, but... they can't exactly be branded as rogues twice."

"They're children."

"They're being hunted. There's every chance they'll decide it's too dangerous... but we can give them the choice."

"It's not much of a choice," Winter said, her eyes fixed on the report.

Culling is to be carried out as soon as possible...

"No. It isn't."

Dusk.

People came and went. Some of them spoke to her. She didn't hear her own replies—all she knew was that they were polite. Twiggy curled protectively around her, her tail twining in Pyrrha's lap. Jaune sat beside her and held her hand.

She didn't want to be comforted. She wanted more than anything to go back, because she knew that this horrible numbness was supposed to be temporary. A moment of shock before it became real. Only Mudslide had taken her away, and now she was staring blankly at the ground, thinking that if she'd checked just one more time she would have found that he was badly hurt, but alive.

The others gathered around the three of them as they finished the work Vernal had given them, cross-legged on the hard ground. For a long while, no one said anything.

Ruby broke the silence. "I'm sorry," she said, her eyes on her hands as they twined around one another. "For riding Twiggy."

Jaune shook his head. "Don't. It's... it's fine."

Silence.

Weiss' scroll went off. When she pulled it out and checked the screen, her shoulders went rigid. She lifted it to her ear and said in a hushed tone, "Winter?"

Everyone tensed.

"I understand."

"You know I can't do that."

Her eyes widened. "I—I'll think about it." She slid the scroll shut, then started searching frantically for something.

"Um..." Yang said. "Care to share with the class?"

"Hush."

There was another pause, this one heavy with curiosity. Finally Weiss seemed to find what she was looking for and went very still. "I... I think my sister just committed treason."

Nora craned her neck to try and see the screen.

"Excuse me, what?" demanded Scarlet.

"She sent me an email through the company database—which, incidentally, probably means that our calls and messages are being monitored—and... well, look." She passed the scroll to Ruby, who fumbled and almost dropped it.

"They're going to kill Pepper?!"

Pyrrha didn't join the rush of people fighting to see the message. Eventually they backed off, and the basic details were shared. Professor Goodwitch and Professor Port. An address. An imminent culling. No mention of Nautilus or Ragnar.

"We have to do something," Ruby said, already on her feet. "It's not even that far away, we could be there and back before the sun came up."

"Uh... okay." Neptune looked around. "So, wait, are we just gonna—? What if it's a trap?"

"What are you suggesting, exactly?" Weiss snapped.

"Nothing!" He held his hands up. "Just that, you know, it's dangerous!"

"But... it's Pepper!" Ruby said.

And that was that. They couldn't abandon their professors when they'd gotten into this mess protecting them.

They would fly. Pyrrha and Jaune couldn't, so they would be left behind. Sky and what remained of team CRDL volunteered to join them, as did Emerald and Mercury. Supplies were gathered, saddles and tack were adjusted, and half of them were mounted before Raven noticed them leaving.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Ruby stumbled through the explanation, adding emphatic hand-gestures and pointing to Weiss a few times. "We can't just let them kill her!"

Raven stared at them, her lip curling. "Amateurs," she spat. "You don't use your scroll when you're being hunted. Ever. The council can track them. Take the batteries out—turning them off is not enough."

"But—"

"We're moving." She glanced at the group of riders, already in the saddle. "If you're going to insist on throwing yourselves into a fight like this, that's on your own heads. We'll break camp and move west."

She turned on her heel and marched away. Within minutes, the rest of them were gone, and tents were coming down everywhere Pyrrha looked.

They marched. Pyrrha followed blindly after Jaune and Twiggy. It wasn't until the sky started to lighten behind them that the tribe finally stopped to sleep. They had both thrown away their supplies, and hadn't thought to ask any of their friends for a spare tent. Twiggy rumbled quietly and tucked them under her wing.

It was warm. Dark. Pyrrha squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the powerful heartbeat against her back, and for a horrible, glowing instant she let herself pretend.

Jaune broke her out of the moment, squeezing her hand lightly in his own. "It's just us," he said softly. "If you want to... if..."

Something in her chest cracked. The moment the fault appeared, it widened under the pressure until everything came crashing down. Her breath hitched. Then she curled her knees against her chest as her whole body was wracked with violent, trembling sobs.

Every passing second she was sure it had peaked, and every second the ache in her chest intensified. She tensed, hugging her arms around her stomach and pressing down, trying to compress herself into the smallest possible space. She didn't notice the turning point, the moment where the sobs turned into quiet hiccups. She only noticed when her body went limp with exhaustion. Vaguely, she registered that Jaune had wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and Twiggy had stuck her head under her wing to nuzzle against her side.

It had been a long time since she'd let herself come apart like that, even in private. The relief that normally came with breaking down was absent. The dam had burst, the plains had flooded, but the pressure in her chest hadn't eased. At least for now, she was too tired to care.