Hello folks! Hope y'all enjoy!

Also, Harpy's name came from Solora Goldsun's outline. Props go over there! Many props!

81. The Siege of Atlas

"There!" Neptune shouted over the wind. Nymph looked where he was pointing and saw Huo on the ground, wrestling with a heavy-looking earth dragon. They dove, and smashed into her from above. And, after a few heartbeats of frantic, confused scuffling, she let out a low whine and tore free of them to sprint away.

They chased her. There wasn't really much else they could do—it was practically impossible to tell friend from foe unless they saw a whip, since they didn't know any of the Atlas dragons by sight. Then there was the Flight Squad, full of fully grown dragons, all wearing the same uniforms. Most of them, as far as Nymph could tell, were trying to protect the school, but there was no way to tell them apart from the few that supported the Council.

It was a mess... but all in all, it felt a bit... anticlimactic.

She pounced on the earth dragon, and this time managed to snatch her rider away. The second he was hanging by the back of his coat from Nymph's jaws, she rolled over and bared her stomach to them.

Huo scoffed. "This is lame."

Nymph whacked him with her tail, but she couldn't really argue with him. Aside from the scattering of Flight Squad dragons, who were easy to spot and almost all busy fighting each other, all the dragons there were Council dragons. They were bigger than Nymph or Huo, but, well... they weren't pit dragons, all muscle and sinew and honed fighting instinct. Up until a few months ago she doubted most of them had done much of anything except sit around looking intimidating. It also didn't help that everywhere she looked, the Council dragons were outnumbered two or three to one.

"Come on," she told Huo. "Let's try and find Zircon and Nimbus."

They turned around the side of the building and skidded to a halt. A bulky water dragon stared at them. So did his rider, a woman in the flight squad uniform.

"Who the hell are you?" she bellowed at them. "Why are there so many children here?!"

Sun and Neptune exchanged looks, while Huo blew smoke from his nostrils.

She waved a hand at them, shouted, "Whatever!" and flew off, leaving Nymph still confused as to which side she'd been on.

More almost-fights. Then a screeching halt, as Justice bounded out in front of them. He was favoring one forepaw, and there was a bloodied human dangling from his jaws by the back of his Flight Squad jacket. When he spotted them he froze as if he'd just been caught—but then he crossed his eyes to look at the injured man.

"Here," he grumbled, and draped the man over Nymph's back.

A little while later, they ran across a Council dragon made formidable by her sheer size. She wasn't quite as enormous as Crucible, but she was close—and only a few seconds after she'd bellowed a challenge at them, Steele swooped overhead. Her rider went pale and yanked on the reins, and the pair of them vanished behind the cafeteria. Huo spat a gob of fire on the ground in disgust.

But Nymph went rigid and still, her ears perked up. A second later, she heard another sharp crack—the foot-soldiers were joining the fray.

One instant, the Council dragons and their riders looked about ready to break and panic. The next, there was a volley of gunshots and a horrible shriek overhead. Yang's heart leaped into her throat. She craned her neck upward, and watched in horror as one of the Flight Squad dragons dropped away from the Council dragon it had been fighting, its back arching as it struggled to cover its rider before slamming into the side of a building.

Yang threw her arm over her face just as a shower of dust and bits of brick reached her. The injured dragon landed in a boneless heap only a few dozen feet away.

"Get down!" she shouted. Fang dove towards the nearest building, flattening himself against the ground as more rifle shots rang out. Storm crouched just behind them, her shoulders hunched to give Ruby a little cover behind Penny's armor. This time the enemy wasn't so lucky—none of the shots looked like they'd even hit, much less struck a vital spot like the last one obviously had.

But they'd keep shooting until somebody stopped them. And if they were having as much trouble telling who was who as Yang was, which they probably were... the most obvious targets would be the ones without Flight Squad uniforms or Council Rider whips. In other words, them.

"They're behind that wall!" Ruby shouted, pointing. "Get around the—"

Too late. Yang could see the first of them pop out of cover, the barrel of the rifle pointing right at them—and Storm jumped in front of them with a savage roar. Shots sparked off her armor, until she hit the ground and skidded to a halt with her sides heaving.

"Around the side!" Ruby yelled. "We've got it!"

"Ruby don't you dare—"

They were already moving. Fang charged after them, keeping himself as flat against the ground as he could. Council goons watched them with wide eyes as they fumbled frantically with their rifles. A little ting, as one of them dropped a bullet and it bounced off the paved walkway.

Only two managed to raise their guns in time. Storm jumped on one, letting the bullet deflect harmlessly off her belly. Fang spat fire at the other. He ducked out of the way, but his sleeve caught, and while he was still trying to smother it with his body Fang's tail came around and knocked him flat. The rifle went spinning off to the side. Storm's back foot came down on it, leaving it half-crushed and useless.

Fang tore guns away from their owners left and right, growling deep in his chest and oozing liquid fire between the corners of his mouth. He spat out a mix of molten metal and charcoal, gagging slightly at the taste. Finally the rifles were gone, and they were facing a group of terrified, unarmed idiots.

"Start running!" Yang snarled. They couldn't obey fast enough, and finally she could take a second to slump against Fang's back.

"Come on!" When she looked up, Ruby was staring off to the side. "I can see a bunch more of them." She twisted around in the saddle and jabbed a finger at Yang. "And stay behind us this time! You guys aren't bullet proof, remember?"

Yang tried to protest, but her little sister was already charging on ahead. She was lying flat against Storm's back, it was true, and the armor on the dragon's shoulder blades shielded her on either side, but... but...

Yang grimaced and held on tight to the saddle as Fang bounded after them, indignant at bringing up the rear in a charge. His frustration was making smoke billow out of his mouth, and he snarled eagerly at the Council riflemen as they approached.

She memorized every spark that slid harmlessly off Storm's armor plating—every single one was another thank-you she'd owe Penny once all this was over... and another piece of hell she'd have to personally deliver to the assholes in charge.

Instinct flattened her against the rooftop the instant she heard the gunshots. The instant Harpy heard the gunshots—the new name was still strange, and she had to shake off the feeling before she could advance. She darted forward, careful to stay low and out of sight of the people on the ground.

More shots. One pinged off the metal lip of the building, and she let out a low hiss. Then, finally, she reached the edge of the roof and launched herself into the air.

Four humans with rifles stood in a row, facing away from her and squinting down the barrels of their guns. They didn't hear her over the chaos all around them until the very last instant, when four heads snapped around to face her—just in time for a blast of her powers to catch them right in the eyes. Two went down, shouting obscenities. One dropped her gun and clapped her hands to her face. The last swung the gun up and fired at the place where he'd last seen her. She was already gone, banking hard and darting into a narrow pathway between two buildings.

A quick glance below showed her that Pyrrha was still keeping her head down and staying out of fights, which was good. She was surprisingly hard to hit, but Harpy doubted the ones with guns would have as much trouble.

Around another building. Harpy flapped hard to dodge a dragon and his faunus coming the opposite way. They were young—students, but she didn't recognize them, so probably from Atlas. There was another gunshot, and the dragon let out a piercing screech before plummeting to the ground.

A human lying flat on a rooftop. The glint of his rifle. Harpy flew at him. He fumbled to reload, then gave it up as a lost cause and swung the gun like a club. It bounced off her snout. She caught him up in her claws and lifted him clean off his feet. He kicked and struggled. The gun slipped out of his hands and fell—he tried to hook the strap on his foot and missed.

Harpy dove. Buildings flashed by as she built up momentum, skimming fifteen feet above the ground. She let go—he bounced off a lamppost and landed in a crumpled, groaning heap.

She flitted back to the dragon. He was still, sprawled on his back in the middle of a main pathway, his rider hidden underneath him. Already gone. But...

Harpy squirmed her way under his shoulders and found the faunus boy trapped in a tangle of straps, struggling to breathe under all the weight. Easy enough to chew him free and drop him by the dragon's head.

It was what Harbinger or Justice would have wanted, in his place.

Back in the air. She found Pyrrha almost instantly, her bright red hair waving behind her like a flag. She was not keeping her head down. Instead, she'd managed to attract the attention of a Council pair. Harpy hissed in displeasure and swept towards them, but before she could even start her dive, Twiggy was already there.

The enemy was a wind dragon, long and lean, with a big barrel chest that should have meant dangerous strength. Twiggy looked tiny beside her, but after a few swipes of their claws and tails, she was already retreating with a few low, piteous whines. Not a threat.

But there was another dragon above them. Impossible to tell, at first, which side he was on—he was grown, but his rider didn't have a whip. But he spotted Twiggy and angled himself towards her, and Harpy swerved into his path.

He flared his wings, neatly avoiding her without a heartbeat's hesitation. His rider straightened in the saddle, drew his arm up. Metal glinted in the sun. A flash, and a jolt of pain in her leg. Harpy screeched and blasted dragon and rider both. Scales and skin cracked. The human fired three more shots in a blind panic, all misses. She caught up to them and yanked him bodily from the saddle, tearing the leather straps in a frenzy of tooth and claw.

She bore him to the ground and pinned him there, still squirming, baring her teeth in his face.

"No!"

Pyrrha and the dragon shouted at the same time. Harpy blinked. Her leg still hurt, but only a little. Not nearly as much as when the girl with the webs had stabbed it with a knife when she was much, much smaller. She snorted into his face, her breath hot and dry but not enough to hurt him, and when she was satisfied that he was quite a bit more scared of her than she was of him, she released him and trotted to Pyrrha's side.

"Are you alright?" Pyrrha blurted, kneeling to examine her leg. "I saw—you're bleeding!"

Harpy backed away, her ears flattening in confusion. The human moved as if to touch her and she dropped into a fighting crouch, her teeth bared. But there was no threat. Only a look in her eyes, of panic and dread and something much, much worse.

Twiggy bounded towards them, tense and ready to pounce, as if Harpy was another threat—but by the time she reached Pyrrha, the hybrid was already in the air. Letting the rest of them dwindle behind her, and taking shelter in the battle raging around them.

After what felt like an eternity, the gunshots came to a stuttering halt. Council dragons flew off clutching their riders in their paws, screeching bloody murder despite not taking a single casualty that James had seen.

His Flight Squads hadn't been so lucky. Neither had his students.

"Sir!"

He forced himself to turn at the sound of Winter's voice. She and Steele rushed towards him, the great ice dragon bleeding a little from a cut over his eye. James himself hadn't been able to do much of anything except take cover—and it rankled. He bent down to give Lisa Lavender, who had been crouching nearby, a hand up.

Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

"Thank you, Winter," he said. They would still have had a slight numerical advantage without her... but slight might not have been enough, with the infantry supporting the Council. "Any serious injuries?"

She grimaced. "Some. Excelsior and... one of the student's dragons, I can't remember his name. They were shot, didn't even make it to the ground alive. Other than that... some broken bones, a broken wing, nonfatal gunshot wounds."

Lisa Lavender relaxed. "No rider casualties, then?" She wilted under their combined glares.

James walked the grounds with Winter, doing his best to reassure students and Flight Squad members alike. Under his breath, he said grimly, "They'll be back."

"I don't doubt that."

Then James stopped, staring, as he rounded a corner and came face to face with what he'd thought was a lost advantage. Storm noticed him staring and tilted her head quizzically. The device's indicator blinked yellow.

"You found it," he said. Then, squinting... "what happened to her wing?"

They explained. James listened, his heart sinking until he swore he could feel it beating in the pit of his stomach. It was Ozpin's worst nightmare for the technology come to life. If the Council got their hands on it...

"Winter," he said. "Come with me. The rest of you, tend to your injuries and do what you can to relax.

"You're worried about Penny," Winter said, once they were safely in his office.

James blinked. "Penny?" Then, remembering, "Ah, yes. Miss Rose's name for the device."

"It's more than a name."

"Meaning?"

"What do you think?"

He thought about that for a moment, and slumped in his chair. "It's sentient, isn't it."

"As far as anyone can tell, yes. Will that be a problem?"

Damn it, Pietro.

"No," he sighed. "Well, someone will probably have to deal with that ethical dilemma eventually, but we have more immediate problems. Like Storm's injury."

"We can't pair Penny with someone else?"

James shook his head. "Pietro might be able to... reset it—her—given time, but it doesn't take a philosopher to see what's wrong with that."

"Storm can still fight," Winter pointed out. "Without her and Penny we would have lost a lot more to those rifles."

He couldn't argue with that... but even so, the—Penny would be a lot more effective if she could fly. There wasn't much point dwelling on it, though, not when she couldn't be linked to another dragon...

James' eye caught on a blueprint, framed and displayed on the opposite wall, of a set of dragon armor. It had been used as a base for the modular plating that Penny could now deploy, but was too bulky to be much practical use on it's own. Unless, of course, someone decided to stuff it full of gravity dust.

Damn it. If he actually decided to do this, there was no way Pietro would hear a word of his completely justified complaints about creating sentient artificial intelligence without so much as a warning. He'd be far too smug.