Troll in Reviews

As has been noted, there is a troll in reviews spamming guest reviews and trying to frame people by writing their name in the name slot. Just ignore it. It's not worth the effort of paying attention to and I'm only writing this message so people are aware.

He's also pretending to be me by writing my name in guest review slots. I would only ever review something from this (logged-in) account.


Chapter 6


General Ironwood stepped down out of his personal carrier and took a deep breath. The air was crisp and clean, a welcome relief so far from the city, had he the opportunity to truly enjoy it. Such thoughts dwindled as six soldiers fanned out either side of him, securing the perimeter and the Bullhead's landing zone. As a General, he usually travelled by Class-A Battleship, but such would have raised panic. Or drawn unwelcome attention.

On a cursory glance, there was little to denote their current location as that of a secret facility. In the end it was Marrow who gave it away, stood beside Harriet but with one hand on what Ironwood realised was an unusually flat piece of rock. He might have missed it at any other time.

"Specialists." He nodded to Marrow and Harriet, approaching and leaving his entourage behind. They had their orders, and the very real possibility of an attack. This would be a prime opportunity for this shadowy group to cut their investigation off.

They'd be in for a nasty surprise if they tried.

"General." Marrow and Harriet saluted.

"At ease. This is the facility, I assume."

"Yes sir." Harriet turned and opened the door while Marrow continued speaking. "It took us a while to find it – in the end it was a dead body that clued us in. The site has been fully cleared."

"No explosives this time?"

"None, sir. The White Fang left everything intact."

Curious. He didn't for a moment think the Ace-Ops wouldn't have done the necessary scans for bombs still laying in wait, so that meant the White Fang had chosen to leave it up. Why? The two thoughts that came to mind was the most obvious, that they lacked munitions, but one a little more dangerous, that they wanted him to see this. A test of his reactions. Of Atlas' reaction. One that Ironwood knew they could only fail.

No matter what he wanted, Atlas would bury this. The justice of one family could not outweigh the cost of so many lives imperilled by releasing the knowledge. That was the excuse that would be given anyway, and he lacked the strength to force a different conclusion.

This is going to turn Arc against us… Ironwood sighed. Not that I can blame him.

"Give me the tour, Marrow. Harriet, stay out here and look after my men. Radio immediately if any unidentified craft appear. Assume hostile."

Harriet saluted. "Sir."

Ironwood kept his eyes narrowed as he marched through the facility behind Marrow. He took note of the high quality of it and the assumed cost, of the hygiene standards being far beyond that of what one would assume of a `rogue` operation. The fallen soldiers had modern and current Atlas equipment. The offices were named. It was difficult to resist the urge to rummage but Clover would have a full report waiting.

They came upon a crossroads and Marrow swallowed. There were bodies everywhere, blood splashed upon the walls in patterns denoting a long, bladed weapon, likely a sword. Not Arc's work, he thought. The boy didn't have the necessary training. Likely Taurus proving his worth.

Their first destination was following the bodies to a docking area. It was cut into the side of a mountain with the massive hangar doors closed. A crashed Bullhead lay a tight wreck by one wall, while a few more bodies dotted the landing zones where others might once have stood.

"The doors were open when we arrived but Clover wanted them closed. There was a risk those behind this might try and re-take the base so Vine sabotaged the computer. It can't be opened remotely now, at least not from the outside."

"Very good." They could station a team here to open the doors for reinforcements but he was loathe to commit to that. This place was useless to them and manning it would both put those here in danger while also exposing them to secrets they might not be trustworthy with.

The list of those I can trust is small. I can't afford to dilute my forces. Sadly enough, even if the White Fang had seen fit to leave this place standing, their best choice might be to bury it. This facility would burn, but only after they took from it all they could.

"Is there a central control room?"

"Not as such, sir. It's more research than military so they have conference rooms and offices. Clover found a data centre, though. He wants you to see it."

"Take me there."

The data centre proved to be just that – a large underground storage room cooled to allow for numerous servers which, to Ironwood's surprise, were still in operation. "The White Fang didn't strike here?"

Clover looked up from where he'd been working on a laptop. Vine was on another, plugged directly into one of the towering servers. Putting his down, Clover stood and saluted. Ironwood waved him down quickly and repeated the question.

"It doesn't look like it, sir. They must have been in a rush – or they were happy with what they took. Vine is searching for security footage and we may be able to trace their attack. I've been going through stored logs, basically downloading everything I can. There's not as much in here as you'd think."

"How so?"

It was Vine who answered, absentmindedly slapping a hand on one of the towers. "This hardware suggests a need for vast amounts of processing power and memory, and yet there is barely enough to fill three laptops. Given the fact this room is cooled and specially maintained for servers and the cost involved, the inefficiency is… suspicious."

It was well said. Ironwood didn't waste time contemplating when Zeki obviously had a hypothesis of his own. "Your thoughts, Specialist?"

"This facility is new and purpose built for the Arc family. It is not an existing one used for anything before it. More than that, they expected the research to be long-term to say the least. They could have continued at the current rate of data acquisition for forty years and now filled these servers, and that's assuming all data be backed up."

They were in this for the long haul. That thought was worrying, but not quite as much as the cost involved in all of this. Not only in the hardware, but the men to run it, the expense of hiding all of that from his eyes and somehow constructing this in territory considered unclaimed. And all of that in the time since the boy's Semblance was discovered and the attack that claimed his family. A period of at best two months.

Even he couldn't convince construction teams to get a build completed that quickly, and he was a General of Atlas. How much money did these people have to throw around? And why keep their primary subject at an alternate site?

Afraid of an escape attempt, of the Semblance interfering with testing or… some other reason.

"What have you found so far?" Ironwood asked.

Clover and Vine exchanged glances. It was a worrying hesitation for what would normally have warranted an immediate answer. "Nothing good, sir. These tests… They've been trying to provoke the victims into unlocking their Semblances."

"Provoke…?"

"There are many theories on how Semblances unlock, as you no doubt know," Vine explained. "One prevailing theory is that Semblances unlock under conditions of high stress, often in answer to a life-threatening situation, and sometimes – but not always – unlocking in a manner that helps us survive that situation."

It was a common theory. It didn't work for everyone, the Schnee's hereditary Semblance as an example, but then there were more than enough case studies of soldiers and Huntsmen unlocking very niche Semblances which just so happened to save their lives. Some of those had been problems so specific and the Semblance unlocked so bizarre, that coincidence no longer served as a viable explanation. It wasn't a certain thing, however. Nothing in life was.

"I've heard the theories."

"Then you may have heard of some idiots trying to `custom choose` their Semblances by placing themselves in specific danger." Vine's scorn made it clear his thoughts on that. "It seems they did the same here…"

His breath caught. "They tortured them…?"

"Yes. Torture is an apt way to describe some of the things I've read. In fact, it may be the best. It's said there is a unique skill to torture, General. That a torturer needs to straddle the line between life and death, for if the victim ever chooses or believes death a better option, they will fade away. A good torturer, they say, must forever dangle hope before the victim but never grant it."

Vine closed his laptop and sighed angrily. It was perhaps the most upset Ironwood had ever seen the normally calm man.

"These people were very good at what they did."

"And the victims?" Ironwood asked, already feeling sick. War was one thing, death was another, but even in the darkest depths of `enhanced interrogation`, torture was forbidden. "Are they all still alive at least?"

"As of these records, yes. The people here were very careful to ensure the harm never threatened the individual's life. Given the Semblance they were trying to bring forth, they employed other people with Semblances that could cause intense pain or mental distress. I caught a glimpse of a report detailing a Semblance capable of influencing dreams, and the traumatic things they forced a young woman to experience." His hand tightened into a fist. "I wish I had not."

"We will find them, Zeki. They will face justice."

"If you will forgive my manners, General, I find myself wondering if they will. Everything about this suggests resources and influence within Atlas itself. Who can say how deep this goes…?"

"That's something we'll discover. Clover, where is Elm?"

"Conducting a final scan for prisoners, sir. It's possible some hid away from the White Fang and evaded detection. Though, I've not heard anything yet…"

It was likely hopeless, then. Knowing that they'd come, anyone who managed to stay hidden would have fled by now. If not them to arrest them, the only others would have been those responsible – who would likely kill any witnesses and burn this place down to hide the evidence. If you were willing to torture civilians, why stop at killing your own people?

"Call her back. We'll be planting demolitions and leaving. I want us back in Atlas when Winter returns. If she's bringing prisoners – or better yet one of the victims – I want a wall of bodies between them and any potential traitors."

"You think they'd try to assassinate a possible witness?"

"At this point I'm not prepared to rule anything out."

/-/

The faunus medic removed his plastic gloves and tossed them aside, stepping away from Coral's bed. He didn't make it two paces before Jaune was there, eyes wide and body shaking. Jaune made to speak but the faunus cut him off.

"She is fine. Malnourished, dehydrated and suffering mild bruises, but alive and well. I'd say to ensure she gets plenty of bed rest, but I doubt she'll be able to stand for at least a day as it is. Don't overfeed her. You'll do more harm than good."

"T-Thank you, Fitch. I mean that."

"It's fine." Fitch, Adam's medic, pushed some hair away from his face, revealing the large black colouration around his eyes. A panda faunus. He had huge muscles that belied his medical training. The mask and uniform didn't help, but he did have a white armband with a red cross on, symbolising his role at a glance. "I gave her some minor painkillers. She's sleeping now. As much as you might want to, I'll have to ask you not wake her."

"I – Yes. Of course." It was a tall request but he was too scared of making things worse to even consider going against it. He lowered his voice. "Will she stay here?"

"For tonight, yes. You're welcome to sleep in here as well if you like. Might help her relax when she wakes up – she'll surely be delirious for a moment and may think herself back in that accursed facility. I have a spared bed you can use."

"I'll do that. You can take my tent."

Fitch nodded to that and ushered Jaune out, telling him he'd call if Coral showed any signs of wakefulness.

Jaune's legs felt like jelly when he got out. He'd been running on adrenaline ever since the raid and it faded a lot more slowly than he thought it would. A few of the White Fang he'd spoken to told him it was after-fight jitters, common for your first real taste. He'd argued he'd been involved in the last raid, but they assured him it wasn't the same. This was his real first time in a life or death against real people and with everything to lose.

His heart was aching – and not from pain over his sisters or anything of that sort. It was just beating so hard and had been for a while that it kept stinging. He wasn't sure if he was on the verge of a heart attack.

And despite all that, despite all those horrible things, he felt like dropping flat on the ground and laughing at the top of his voice. Loud, screaming laughter that would reach Atlas. Maniacal laughter. Wild, reckless and stupid laughter.

A warm flask was pushed into his hands. Blake's face appeared before his. "Drink this."

"Huh?"

"It's soup. Tomato and basil. Nothing too special, but you need to eat."

"I'm not-"

"You don't feel hungry but you are. Given what we just went through, your body can't be anything but." She took him by his elbow and drew him to a patch of grass. "Come on. Sit down before you fall down."

He did as she said, realising that she had a point. He still didn't feel hungry but it was hours since the raid and he should have been starving. He probably was, but he couldn't feel it. Unscrewing the cap, he poured some soup into the reversed lid, using it as a cup. He sniffed at it and took a sip, then drank some more when his body didn't rebel against it. Heat spread through him, relaxing tense muscles.

"Thanks," he whispered. "I think I needed that…"

"Happens to everyone after a close mission. It has to me enough times." Blake smiled faintly. Her smiles had been just that of late, small and fragile. He'd thought once or twice of asking why but didn't know if it would be appreciated.

If she needs help, she'll talk to Adam. I'm sure it's fine.

Finishing another full mug, he screwed the cap back on and offered the thermos back. "Keep it," she said. "Your sister might want some when she's awake. Coral, isn't it? I'm sure that was the name you mentioned."

"Yeah. This – or that," he said, nodding back to the medical tent, "Is Coral."

"And the other, the one we couldn't reach…?"

"Amber. The youngest." His hands clenched into fists. "She was so frightened…"

Blake's hand settled over his, gently unwinding his hand before he could hurt himself. "She knows you're looking for her now. That was something she had no idea of before. Even if you couldn't save her, you've given her hope."

Hope…? That was something worth believing. He nodded. Amber had no reason to believe anyone was going to save her before, but she now knew he was free. That was better than nothing. Hopefully, she'd keep that close to her heart until he could rescue her.

"Jaune." Adam stepped up with a crunch of grass. He paused for a second on seeing Blake, but quickly nodded her way. "And Blake. We've just finished interrogating the prisoners and deciding on our next course of action."

"And that is?" Jaune asked.

"And the fate of said prisoners?" Blake asked.

Jaune shot her a look but she ignored it, staring directly at Adam.

"What do you want of me, Blake? They're dangerous. Would you have me set them free in the middle of nowhere? That's as good as killing them. Deliver them to Atlas? That would get us killed."

"We could drop them off at a nearby village…"

"Would that there were any nearby, I might consider it. There aren't. We're in the wildlands of Atlas. There's a reason they chose to set their hidden facility here, and it wasn't because it's a short walk to the nearest supermarket."

"You've already killed them, haven't you?"

"No, actually." Adam crossed his arms. "But thank you for the vote of confidence."

"Let them go. Give the pilot a weapon."

"And if he shoots us with it?"

"He won't," she insisted. "He'd be an idiot to. We're not killers, Adam. We shouldn't execute prisoners or what do you think Atlas will do if they take some of our people prisoner?"

"The same thing they already do," Adam replied, touching a finger to where his eye was behind the mask. Blake flinched but held her ground. "And what of the researcher, Blake? What do you think happens when he goes free? Do you want to be responsible for that person going back and conducting more tests on Jaune's siblings?"

"What? No, I-"

"You what?" Adam pressed. "You think he'll go home, renounce his ways and open up a bakery serving treats to small orphans? Junior Doctor Clementine is under the employ of those responsible for all of this." He put a strange focus on the name. "As you well know."

Blake had been tense before, but now she went ramrod still, eyes wide. Jaune had been silent up until that point, but her reaction stirred him to speak.

"What does he mean? Do you recognise that name?"

"I… It's…"

"He deserves to know," Adam said. "It's his family."

Blake reluctantly produced a small, folded set of papers from her pocket and held them out. Jaune took them with a shaking hand and unfolded them, then read through in silence. By the time he was done his fingers were gripping the edges so tight the paper began to rip. Stains blotted it from his angry tears.

"I wanted to wait until you calmed down before showing you," Blake whispered. "I'm sorry."

"It's not Blake's fault," Adam said. "But it is the fault of the man we have prisoner. I took the liberty of asking for you. Your mother went through one treatment of this and they weren't yet sure it worked. There's a good chance it wouldn't have taken, but I can't say they won't try again wherever they have her."

"Killing him won't solve anything!"

"Killing him will make sure he can't harm anyone again."

"It's not right!"

"Nothing to do with these people is right, Blake. We work with what we're given. In the end it should be Jaune who decides. It's his family that has suffered."

He'd known it was coming but he still shrunk when their eyes turned on him, Adam's calm and flat but Blake's almost pleading. The paper had become scrunched in his fist, bits sticking out detailing the horrible things they'd done to his mother. How could she look at him at a time like this and expect him to defend this person? How?

"Jaune, don't," she whispered. "Killing them won't change the fact this happened."

It wouldn't, but what would change if he let them go? He only had the one example of what this man did, but there was a good chance he'd done far worse to the others. Every ounce of him was screaming for blood.

Except for a quiet, weak voice in his head saying it was wrong.

Wrong? Wrong? Everything was wrong here. On that, Adam was right. What was wrong was that he had to join a bunch of terrorists to make a difference, and that they'd delivered in such a little time, already freeing Coral and sending their captors fleeing. Meanwhile, Atlas hadn't done a thing other than pick up Saphron and label him a psychopath.

"Jaune," Blake said.

"Stop!" He spat it out, startling her. "Just. Just stop. I can't think with you looking at me like that!" Ignoring her hurt expression, he turned to Adam. "What did you find out from them? What did they say?"

Unlike Blake, Adam remained calm and swiftly answered. "The pilot was co-operative and answered as much as he could. He's relatively new, shipped here two weeks ago on the promise of higher pay. He claims to have been told this was to research a cure for a disease, with your family being carriers of some kind of antibodies." He shrugged. "It's a weak excuse, but easy enough to believe for someone with more faith in the system than common sense. Today was the first time he saw your sisters in person."

"He also said the Bullheads were instructed to travel to four new locations. Vacuo, Vale and Mistral, with one heading to a new outpost along the coast. Theirs was to go to Vacuo before we shot it down."

"Does he know who was on each?"

"No. He wasn't made aware who would be on his, let alone the others. He was able to provide the rough location of the Mistral facility, however. He says it's the only one he remembers as they were given in order and the Vacuo one was punched into the system. The one in Mistral is in the middle of a forest halfway between the city of Mistral and the west coast. I'm afraid we don't have any leads on Vale or Vacuo's bases."

Damn it. That was better than nothing, though. It was a direction. If they went to Mistral, they could maybe find the location of the others. "C-Can we go there?"

"I was planning on it anyway," Adam said. "Atlas is about to become too hot for us to stay, and we've already completed our mission here in freeing the SDC mining camp. Sienna wants us to work on dust shipments between Mistral and Vale." He nodded to Jaune. "I don't see why we can't kill two birds with one stone."

"Thank you. I'll help with the dust shipments. I promise. What about the scientist? Did he reveal anything?"

"Less." Adam sighed and shook his head. "He ranted, raved and rambled. Idiot is almost driven mad with panic and has spent more time trying to convince us to let him go than listening to what we want. He's pleading innocence from everything, saying he was forced into this, intimidated and that he never took part, that he always did his best to help the patients and look after them. Claims he was medical more than research."

"He might have been!" Blake hissed. "We don't know for sure."

She was only saying that because she didn't want them killed. Jaune wanted to ask why, then realised the answer was obvious. Because it was wrong. Because a normal person wouldn't want to up and kill someone like that.

I'm the one that's abnormal, he thought. Blake is just trying to keep some sense of morality.

Nicholas always talked about how being a huntsman meant making difficult choices. Who to save, who to leave behind and who couldn't be saved even if you tried. Those decisions were never easy, he'd often say, but someone had to make them.

Now, it was his turn.

"Jaune," Blake begged.

"Let the pilot live." It burned to say it and burned even more when instead of showing relief, Blake only looked more upset. "I won't forgive him but there's no point killing him and he did co-operate. As for the researcher…" Blake was already looking at him like she'd lost all hope. "I want Coral to see him."

Blake tensed. Adam raised a single eyebrow.

"If he claims to be innocent then I want Coral to have a look. If he really did try his best to help them, she should know."

"Very well." Adam uncrossed his arms and adjusted his mask. "I'll inform the others and let the pilot know the good news. That might even spark the researcher into co-operating a little more. As for moving orders, we'll camp here tonight to let your sister recover, then make for the coast in the morning. Our transport will be smuggling us as cargo over to Mistral, where we'll disappear into the forests and meet up with another team to be resupplied. They'll be the ones to take your sister to Menagerie."

"Will they look after her?"

"If they know what's good for them. They're loyal to me and I'll be making it clear how important her safe arrival is." Adam paused in turning away to add, "I trust that is to your liking, Blake? Or was there anything you wanted to add?"

Blake shook her head and Adam walked away. Blake looked upset still, despite that no one was being killed. It annoyed him more than he cared to admit, but he pushed that away, reminding himself she was a friend.

"Is everything okay?"

"Nothing is okay," she mumbled, standing. "They're your enemies, Jaune, I get that, but keep in mind they're still people. Their biggest evil is in seeing your family as less than human, as lives that don't matter." Her eyes pierced his. "Make sure you don't become the same. Killing is easy. It's stopping that's hard, especially once you realise how convenient a solution it really is…" Shaking her head, she stepped away, and though she whispered under her breath, he still heard her. "We used to take and release prisoners. Whatever happened to that?"

He had a feeling he knew the answer, even as she walked away. Releasing prisoners ceased being convenient, and soon became more trouble than it was worth. Jaune sighed, hooked his hands around his knees and sat under the moonlight, waiting for Coral to wake.

How far was too far? Was there a point at which he was supposed to stop? If so, didn't that mean there was an argument to just leave his sisters to their horrible fate? If one argued that killing was wrong, and that it might cost a hundred lives to save them, then they could also argue it was better not to try at all. Just leave them. Write them off.

Was that what Blake meant? Was that what she wanted? If all it took for evil to exist was for good people to do nothing, but by doing something he became evil himself, then where did that lead? All those pithy sayings just ended up contradicting one another and ending up in some sanctimonious mess.

At the end of the day, the choices were simple.

Let his family be put through continued torture until they eventually died or were turned into breeding factories so more children could be put through the same - or kill. Fight it and those responsible, which would require more and more death, but the deaths of those not close to him, as horrible as that sounded. Justice didn't really come into it anymore. Not when both he and the ones behind it were ignoring the law.

And laws were just something decided by the strong, Adam had said, followed only by those who didn't have the strength, influence or power to ignore them. Those that did could do so at will, acting like unaccountable monsters.

"Don't think about it," he told himself. "Just save them. That's all that matters."

/-/

Wind whipped at the tail of Ironwood's coat, dragging it forward as Atlas' banners streamed above. The landing zone was contained and monitored, with the Ace-Ops at each corner, weapons at the ready. Ten men guarded the door while two Bullheads stood ready to intercept anyone and anything that might impede them. He'd been forced to call upon everyone he thought he could trust and realising how depressingly small that number was grated his already frayed nerves.

"Winter is hailing us, sir," Clover said.

"Patch her through. Is Saphron accounted for?"

"Under guard. She wanted to be here naturally, but I managed to convince her that would only place everyone in danger."

"Good." He took the radio Clover offered. "Winter. Report."

"I'm approaching Atlas airspace, sir. Package secured. Two prisoners."

He stamped down on the sudden rush, forcing professionalism to the fore. They weren't out of the water yet. "Roger that. You are clear to land on AV-4. Your path has been cleared. Be aware, there is a large escort on the platform."

"Understood. Sir, I'm being pinged by control…"

"You shouldn't be." Ironwood waved to Clover, who instantly pulled out his scroll to solve the issue. "Send your ID codes but refrain from revealing anything about the mission."

"Yes sir."

Winter went silent, no doubt complying with control's demands. It was normal for any aircraft entering their space to be challenged in such a manner, but Winter's aircraft was recognisable. There was simply no way they didn't know it was her, but at the same time it was arguably safer for control to request clarification anyway.

Except that he'd already sent information of Winter's approach ahead of time.

"Sir." The radio came back to life. "Control registers and has instructed me to land at platform six. Escort awaiting."

"Ignore that order, Specialist. Continue to AV-4." Ironwood pulled the radio away and barked out, "Platform six. Lock it down. Demand surrender of anyone present and await further instructions." He watched the ten men at the door salute and rush away. They wouldn't be enough to win a firefight, but there was almost no risk of that here.

At best, they'd be looking at confusion as two groups of soldiers tried to figure out whose orders to follow and eventually made the obvious decision, to follow none and seek further instruction rather than risk an altercation between their own. That delay would give him time to get down there and take control of the situation personally.

Sabotage, accident or diversion. It could be any…

"Clover. What of Control?"

"They're saying they didn't receive your instructions, sir, but have accepted my word on that and approved Winter's flight path. All systems are down and she is safe to approach."

"Are the systems down? I would hate for there to be a mysterious misfire…"

"Control says weapon systems are fully locked down, sir. They would need your direct approval to open them again."

Good. Someone was doing their job properly. He radioed for Winter to finish her approach and watched as her elegant craft swept in over the city. His muscles tensed then, expecting the worst, but as it came closer and closer, eventually turning sideways to land, he allowed himself a moment of hope. Only when the aircraft touched down fully did he acknowledge it.

The Ace-Ops rushed the door and cockpit. Clover confirmed Winter's presence as the pilot – unnecessary, but better safe than sorry – and she climbed out with his aid. The cargo bay was then brought open and two of Winter's own exited, flanking four figures with hands cuffed behind their backs. They were smudged with soot and dirt, likely from an explosion.

Harriet and Elm rounded them up and forced them to kneel, then checked and reapplied their cuffs. They didn't take them away and Ironwood regarded them with a quick nod. Any second they were out his sight was a second for them to disappear under mysterious circumstances. No more games. No more chances.

Winter waited by the ramp and Ironwood approached, feeling a surge of pride as she removed her helmet, white hair falling down her back, and then saluted him.

"At ease, Specialist. You have exceeded all expectations today."

"Just doing my job, sir."

Modest to a fault. He'd heard someone say modesty could sound arrogant if applied too frequently, but she always managed to avoid that. "Accept praise where it's given, Winter. You managed to race down and apprehend a fleeing aircraft while avoiding a diplomatic incident. Report, but quickly."

"Sir. I made contact with the quarry over the waters near Vacuo's northern coast and hailed them. Repeated tries were met with silence. Warning shots went ignored. Over a stretch of flat land, I was able to fly low above them and force them to choose between descending or an impact. Once they were close to the ground, I disabled their engines and forced a rough landing."

"Resistance?"

"They opened fire. Six dead, all soldiers. I have their bodies in the hold. The target was unharmed."

"Well done. We'll get to identifying those who shot on you and following the trail as best we can, but I don't expect anything." The ones behind this would have cut ties by now and had hours to erase everything. "And the subject?"

"Sedated, sir. I… I had to do that myself. We were wearing Atlas-standard armour when we found her and she didn't react well to it. Nor the injection," she admitted, ashamed not by her actions but because she knew what mental upset that must have caused the victim.

To see another Atlas soldier with an injection. Ironwood closed his eyes, fighting back the revulsion. That their own would do this. He'd have said he was surprised, but by now he was simply disappointed.

"Let me see her."

Winter brought him up into the Bullhead's interior. A bed lay inside, carefully strapped into a stable position. On it lay a small figure huddled beneath a blanket. It was impossible to tell who she was at a glance but he was sure Saphron could perform an identification. Keeping her away would be both impossible and needlessly cruel.

The girl was tied to the bed by thick leather bands about her wrists and ankles. Touching one, he peeled the leather away to see splotches of blue and red skin beneath. Her arms were dotted with red marks and the odd scar. Even asleep, she looked troubled, with heavy bags beneath her eyes and a sunken appearance.

"They have kept her alive, but not healthy. We shall have to fix that…"

"Sir, she's going to be at risk here."

"I'm aware. We'll be placing her under the strictest guard-"

Gunfire barked from outside.

Ironwood threw himself in front of the girl protectively but none of the shots came inwards. Someone shouted out angrily and more gunfire erupted, a sudden and brief firefight taking place on the platform. Winter was already surging out, sabre drawn.

By the time he felt it safe enough to leave the civilian, it was too late.

The four prisoners lay face down, on their backs or on their sides, each and every one of them dead in an expanding pool of blood. Twenty-five metres away, an Atlesian soldier also lay crumpled on the floor, while another was gripping his leg and being helped up by Marrow. Ironwood's tongue worked around the inside of his mouth as he took in the scene in fury, skin burning hot red.

"Report!" he snapped.

"Sir," Clover said sadly. "Lieutenant Colson suddenly opened fire. Private Milner tried to tackle him and was shot for it." He pointed to the wounded trooper. "He was about to finish Milner. I can't confirm who took the shot." He linked his hands behind his back. "I take full responsibility."

Another traitor, and now among his own personal men. Ironwood shook with rage, teeth grinding together. Two seconds. That was all it took of him taking his eyes off the prisoners for them to be ripped out from under him. Two damned seconds.

"No one is to be discharged for this," he growled. "Everyone acted as they believed they had to. Private Milner did well on attempting to take the traitor alive - see him to the infirmary. Ace-Ops, we are taking the civilian to receive medical attention and we are subduing anyone who so much as tries to breathe in her direction. I don't care if it's the janitor or Jacques Schnee himself, they are arrested on the spot. Am I understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

/-/

Jaune held onto Coral, supporting her head against his shoulder with an arm behind her back so she could sit up in the bed. One of her hands clutched his with a grip that threatened to never let go, a far cry from the standoffish and normally distant girl she'd been. Then again, they were all of them different now. Changed.

Adam dragged the researcher in and gripped him by his collar, pulling his head back to show his face. The man was terrified and had obviously been sobbing, but he was unharmed. There was a gag in his mouth, and Jaune had a feeling it was because the researcher wouldn't stop talking.

Blake stood nearby, tense and visibly shaking.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time but once Coral woke, he'd suddenly realised how painful seeing someone from her captivity might be. It was too late to go back now though, and he'd filled her in on what had been said, and then been surprised to find there were one or two doctors who had tried to be kind to them, giving him a shred of hope.

"I remember him…" Coral's voice was raw and croaky, dull and flat. "I… I remember him…"

"He says he helped you," Jaune whispered to her, rubbing her back. "He says he was a doctor who looked after you. Is that true?"

"Looked… after…? Ha… Ha – ack! Kak!"

"Coral!" he yelled, rubbing her back as she buckled over, coughing violently. Fitch hurried over, took his hand away and gave her back a hard slap. It helped, Coral spitting out some saliva and breathing a little easier. "This is too much," he said. "You need sleep."

"No." Her hand dug into his. "I-I can do this. I'm not… hah… useless."

"I never said you were…"

"Saving me. Little brother. When did you… ah… become the hero?" Her smile was distant, but there was the faintest hint of the sarcastic sister he was used to. "Let me… hah… speak. I recognise him. I know him…"

The doctor whimpered.

"T-They wanted to get mom pregnant. Breed… more." Coral's words were jittery but got better the more she spoke, some strength returning. "There was another – a woman – and she said injections. Medical. Frozen sperm cells to fertilise an egg. He said that was a waste." Coral spat it out. "He said it would take time. Effort. Cost. Be quicker to – to do it the other way. The easier way." Her breath rattled as she snapped out, "He wanted Amber. He – He said `dibbs on the young one`."

The silence left behind by that was suffocating. Jaune's head kept spinning, his eyes failing to find focus as what she'd just said filtered through. There wasn't a White Fang member there who didn't tense and turn toward the researcher.

The tent flap was pushed aside as Blake stormed out, her face hidden in shadow.

Adam watched her go but kept hold of the researcher. His lips were drawn back and his teeth were gritted, however. He kicked the man's knees out and pushed him down, holding on tight as the monster tried to break free.

"You're sure?" Adam asked.

"I can't forget him," Coral whispered, eyes clenched shut. "He liked to touch during check-ups…"

The man was dragged out wailing through his gag. Adam didn't ask him what he wanted doing, either knowing full well or deciding he didn't care to after what he'd heard. Jaune couldn't blame him. He clung onto Coral, rubbing her back as she cried into his shoulder.

Only one man left the camp that night, granted a handgun and enough ammo to give him a fair shot at getting to safety.


There we go. Just a quick reminder that I'll be busy the week of 23rd - 29th with my event and speech preparations, so no updates that week.


Next Chapter: 16th March

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur