II

187.M4224-69, Landing Zone Primus

'You saw her face, right, Bellora?' Palatine Corinthus asks as one of her gauntlets falls heavily on Seraphim Superior Bellora's large pauldron.

'Yes, Lady Palatine.' The Seraphim Superior nods.

'Good…' The Palatine begins, looking ahead for a moment at an explosion before continuing. '...because no one is to kill her but me. And, Emperor help me, I will only snap that Witch's scrawny neck once I've squeezed all her secrets out.' The Palatine explains as her gaze turns to a bookshelf, mostly intact. This place was important, she reasons to herself, whatever is here must also be of some importance.

'She has secrets, this world has secrets…' The Palatine thinks out loud as she looks over the books and pulls out a book of fairy tales. '...I was right to forego the exterminatus order.'

(Next)

The dragon-like beast smashed through the tower's top like it was nothing. It showered the gathered tanks at the base of the tower in rubble in its wake.

'Throne!' Sister Superior Myrcelle Hadrian growls looking upwards from the cupola of her Castigator tank, Ophelia's Tears. 'Get a look at that daemon!'

'Spearhead!' Her voice echoes down all the comms. 'Urban low-flyer protocol, now!'

Like a troupe of dancers who know their part instinctively, the Castigators shift from idling to reverse gear and reverse back into the wide space of nice gardened areas and well-manicured grass and clean concrete paths. Sister Superior Hadrian gave no care for what they might suffer under the tracks of the tanks. After all… She mentally muses. ...Palatine Corinthus gave very little regarding the preservation of the city in her rules of engagement.

'Autocannon tanks, you get its attention.' She commands as her own battle cannon armed tank reverses far back enough for the Hunter-Killer missile to be of some use. It wasn't the first time she had dealt with these kinds of enemies. But mechanical fliers weren't so nimble as this thing could be.

On her command the tanks with twin autocannons had finished their longer retreat and aimed up their guns to the maximum elevation. Then they open up a solid barrage at the flying abomination, aiming in particular at its crimson wings. The monster bellows an unholy, unnatural shriek like roar and flaps to turn itself towards them. Each roar follows the opening of its great maw, chilling the blood of all present.

'Hold!' She commands as it turns and recognises the main source of the barrage.

'Hold!' She repeats as it gives several large flaps of its immense wings while they're still in one piece and commits to a swooping attack.

The intervening moment is almost unbearably long as Sister Superior Hadrian waits for the daemonic abomination to commit itself irrevocably to the attack.

'Fire!' She barks. On cue a loud orchestra of hisses erupts as the Hunter-Killer missiles fly from their mounts and speed towards their target. The daemon doesn't realise until it is too late that the missiles designed to punch through armour and explode will be its undoing.

Sister Superior Hadrian watches the series of explosions keenly as they tear into and tear apart the flesh of the unnatural creature. Even amidst all the explosions it emits one last, and downright creepy roaring hiss of pain before it begins to fall and seems to dissipate into thin air when the last spark of life left what remained of it.

'By the Throne!' She exclaims incredulously. For all her battles and combat experience, Sister Superior Hadrian had never seen that.

(Next)

The tower that is the focus of the opening assault, it has to be taken and held. I will secure this approach, as those the Emperor put above me have decreed. I will hold it. Sister Superior Sabina Isskar resolved internally as she led her Battle Sister squad slowly towards a series of slightly burning buildings that covered one of the approaches to the tower's wide, open courtyard. The approach afforded them the ability to bottleneck and hold off everything but super heavy armour. And Sister Superior Isskar, from what she had seen, was quite doubtful the defenders could muster any super heavies for the fight.

'Be resolute as your armour…' She sings through the comms as she approaches that choke point.

'Resolute as our armour!' The Battle Sister squad sings back. Serving as those of their station always have, as the Sister Superior's chorus.

'Be as unrelenting as your boltgun…' Sister Superior Isskar continues to sing as she spots a shape in a window ahead of her. Is it a daemon? A mutant? It's silhouette betrays what could very well be small horns, though the smoke from the small fires doesn't help in identifying it. Whatever it is, there'll be time enough to scrutinise its corpse. She swiftly raises her boltgun.

'Resolute as our boltguns!' They echo back as they raise their own guns.

The Sister Superior puts all out of her mind but the horned figure. The terrified civilians running past her, the small fires here and there, the wails and howls in the distance are all distractions. All she mentally likens to a rock in one's shoe. All equally irrelevant to the situation at hand.

She lines up the abomination in an instant, like some hunter's prey. Her armoured finger doesn't linger over the trigger long as she firmly squeezes a few bolts at the Xenos creature in a curt burst. The other sisters join her. Their bolts, or rather the first volley explode as they force the beast to contort oddly. Then a crimson light seems to flash, almost crack, as it were.

(Next)

Yang Xiao Long's regal purple eyes widened as she turned to Adam Taurus in an instant. The very moment she heard the sound of his crimson blade stab into Blake Belladonna's soft flesh.

'Get away from her!' Yang screams in a primal fury as Adam nonchalantly looks up Her muscles tense, she is poised to charge.

But instinctively Yang drops as a mechanical cacophony erupts like a string of fire crackers but much, much louder. The window shatters into a thousand pieces as rounds that seem to be propelled by small rockets slam into Adam. The bull Faunus twists and turns and staggers back as the first few rounds explode on contact with his aura. For the briefest of moments it's almost like he's a puppet on strings dancing a most macabre and disturbing dance.

The shooting doesn't last long. Barely the blink of an eye passes before the rounds crack his red aura and explode. Each explosion of the grenade-like ammunition tears out chunks of him with every contact. Little of Adam is left to hit the ground in wide eyed horror. The one eye that remained with him after the firing had stopped and his mask had been blasted to pieces.

Yang waits a second… ...then two… ..then three… ...when the firing has stopped for sure she speedily crawls over to where Blake lies wounded and desperately drags her to a wall. In that raw, state of unchecked emotions Yang summons a primal strength even she didn't know she was capable of.

'Blake!' She whimpers with great anguish, hiding low behind the wall and looking at Blake's wound. That word drips with so much emotion. Concern. Pain. Fear.

'Yang!' Blake groans. Breathing deeply. Her every breath came with sharp stabs of pain.

'Stay with me!' Yang howls as tears fall, she holds Blake tightly with a hand, trying to bandage her wound as she desperately tears at her own clothing. She had little experience other than what she learnt raising Ruby, but she wouldn't let Blake die here. She just wouldn't!

(Next)

'That's it! Everybody on board! This is a mandatory evacuation!' Professor Peter Port bellowed.

'A safe zone has been established in Vale, please remain calm and listen to Atlas personnel.' Professor Bartholomew Oobleck adds.

Weiss Schnee is too nervous to pay much attention to the relatively orderly evacuation. Blake lay on the ground nearby, badly injured. Yang sat beside her, begging her to remain conscious. This perhaps had moved Weiss most of all. Seeing the carefree and brave Yang Xiao Long moved to fear and despair. Things were indeed bad. It took a heroic effort on behalf of Weiss herself to maintain that Atlesian stiff upper lip.

Zwei barked at her heels. At the sound of him she turned and exclaimed 'Ruby!' in emphatic relief.

'I found you!'

'Ruby where ha-'

'Don't worry, I'm fine!' Ruby cut her off.

'What's going on?' She continues, looking around with those big silver eyes, at the situation around Weiss.

'Weiss? What is it?' All Weiss can do is look to the side then down. Sad. Hurt. Then gathering herself she steps aside as Ruby gasps at the sight of Blake badly wounded, tended to by her older sister.

'Blake…' Ruby sighs sadly.

'Hey…' Sun Wukong begins. '...she's gonna be okay. The soldiers have a ship ready to take you guys to Vale.'

'But Jaune and Pyrrha are still missing!' Nora Valkyrie, the small but powerful redhead protests, sitting up and grabbing her side.

'What?'

'Look guys! The enemy is spreading out throughout the city. Even the White Fang are being driven back! We all have to go now!' Sun pleads with them.

'We're not leaving-' Lie Ren declares, before grunting in pain and falling beside Nora Valkyrie.

'I'll find them. I'll find them and I'll bring them back!' She turns to declare to Ren and Nora.

'No! We will find them!' Weiss adds. 'Look after Blake, we'll be back.' Her tone softening from the stuck up princess she once was to something her comrades thought was more human.

With that, they run off into the darkness, determined to bring back their friends in one piece.

'You better be!' Then shaking his head in exasperation he mutters 'Idiots.'

(Next)

Pyrrha Nikos, the statuesque champion of Argus, pulled her team leader Jaune Arc into the bushes near the base of the tower. She had to cover his mouth lest he shriek in his unmanly fashion.

'Please be careful!' She pleads with him as she points out black, humanoid robots about twice the height of a man and carrying large swords who vigilantly stalk along the perimeters. Even further in are large moving fortifications like the police's armoured cars that are armed with immensely powerful cannons.

'They're too powerful…' Pyrrha watches in horror as the moving fortifications change their positions to better fire at the grimm wyvern and open fire. They unleash a tremendous barrage of fire and rockets, the grimm had little chance. What stands out most to Pyrrha is the discipline. The discipline of it all, something their motley teams of huntsmen and huntresses lacked. Professor Ozpin and many of her teachers had long praised the power and importance of diversity and the individual but here Pyrrha could see the awesome, irresistible power of a mass of fighters in an almost inhuman unity of purpose and action.

'Wait, I'll call Glynda!' Jaune says as he pulls out his scroll.

'Hold on, umm why do you have Glynda's number?' Pyrrha gently inquires. Her voice trembles at the uneasiness and confusion she felt.

'That's not important now!' He bursts, in a desperate whine, trying to call her but not getting through.

'Sorry.' Pyrrha sighs as she watches him trying in vain to get through to Professor Goodwitch.

(Next)

'What now?!' Glynda Goodwitch growls under her breath as she raises her hands and walks towards the tower. As far as she knew, she is the most senior professor from Beacon Academy still active and the highest ranking leader left alive. Now, as she approached the foreign war machinery with raised hands for parley, the very last thing she needed was her scroll going off. It could make things awkward. Luckily she kept the thing on silent perpetually. Awkward at best. At worst the mysterious invaders could take it as some sort of ruse, trap or act of bad faith and act with rash hostility.

'Don't shoot!' Glynda implores the great black figures and armoured vehicles as she walks out into the open space at the foot of the tower. She wasn't sure they even spoke her language but she had to try.

'It speaks Low Gothic.' The lead armoured figure more-or-less twice the height of a man says as it moves towards her. 'Stay back, but be vigilant.' It commands it's comrades. 'You, identify yourself!' it commands Glynda as she becomes the centre of it's attention. It's voice is unmistakably human despite its sternness and feminine tone. 'Step forward six paces then halt.'

'I am Professor Glynda Goodwitch… ...this is Beacon Academy.' She says as she steps forward as command. What faces her terrified even her. Rather than an autonomous robot of the Atlesian fashion, it is larger versions of the black armour clad invaders. One of these invaders is fixed firmly into the centre of the machine and controls it's arms and legs. Deceptively thin arms carry a menacingly large blade and a cannon level gun of some sort. She had seen Ironwood's automated war machines, but these paled in their offensive and defensive power, from what Glynda had just seen in the combat between the two. And these seemed to exude an aura of brutal malice that Glynda could never have imagined.

'And I am Paragon Superior Iona Lucius. Of Paragon Squad Lucius. Are you an authority who can treat with my commander?'

'Yes. I am most likely the most senior authority left alive defending this place.' Glynda answers coolly, not shifting her gaze from the dark figure illuminated in the moonlight. As Paragon Superior Lucius speaks inaudibly into some sort of communication device, she observes the woman. Swarthy like a Vacuoan. Jet black short hair befitting a woman in the military and black eyes.

'Very well. The Palatine will see you. Wait here until your escorts arrive.'

'Thank you.' Glynda responds in a cool polite tone.

(Next)

The elevator in Ozpin's office gave a "ding". Palatine Corinthus smiled to herself as she looked up at it from the book she had buried her small upturned nose in. Her "guest" would be here in a moment. She continues to read as the elevator brings her and a pair of Celestian Sacresants into her makeshift headquarters.

'Good evening.' She looks up at the professor. 'I've been anticipating your arrival. I am Palatine Athanasia Corinthus, commander of the Imperial contingent bringing this world to compliance.'

'I am Professor Glynda Goodwitch. I am here to negotiate on behalf of the defenders.'

'Goodwitch, that is your family name?' Palatine Corinthus asks, then raises a hand. 'Before you answer, answer truthfully. I know I am the enemy and it is absurd to expect truth from you. But know that if I desire it, I can quit this world and crack your planet from orbit. Effortlessly killing all who dwell here with impunity. Or as you have seen, I have the military resources at hand to sweep everything aside and cleanse this planet for resettlement. So, all that you intend to save depends upon how you answer me.'

'Yes, it is a family name. One of considerable age and I therefore cannot answer any questions you have about it.' Glynda answered politely, almost deferentially.

'Ahh pity. From what I gather, this is some sort of war school?' The Palatine leaps to the next subject.

'In a way…' Glynda begins, not faltering under the Palatine's gaze. '...the students here are trained to hunt and kill grimm-'

'Those black and white monsters pouring into the city?'

'Yes.' The professor nods.

'Care to tell me what exactly was transpiring in the city before my operation commenced?' The Palatine asks as she begins holding her arms and walking slow circles around the professor, occasionally subtly glancing at the statuesque woman who stands as tall as she does. Admiring the golden sheen of her hair and the gleam of intelligence in her green eyes, the Palatine watches for any tell or habit that could be of use.

'Well we were celebrating the Vytal festival. A kind of tournament of the Huntsmen and Huntresses skills. People had gathered from all over Remnant, this world, to compete in displays of martial skill. Normally we keep the grimm at bay and out of our cities, but tonight, tonight was different.'

'How?'

'Invaders, the White Fang, Salem's minions…'

'Who?'

'The White Fang are a terrorist movement that rose up from amongst our disenfranchised Faunus population-'

'Faunus? Is that some kind of abhuman or mutant?'

'Palatine!' Glynda protests firmly, a small crack emerging in her granite countenance. The Palatine notices, it came quicker than she anticipated, though her queries are legitimate. By the Emperor, she has no idea what a faunus is. She may have her back turned to Glynda at that moment but she can sense the crack. The woman's patience is wearing thin. A process greatly accelerated by her soft hearted concern for her people.

'My people are dying, my students are dying. Your people are dying.'

'No.' Palatine Corinthus laughs. 'None of my sisters will die tonight.'

'Perhaps, but the fact remains. The longer you draw out our negotiations the longer this city remains in peril, the longer it suffers.' The professor's deference was delicious. Especially when spat through gritted teeth. Would that all heretics and heathens were likewise humbled. She was clearly desperate and angry but she was facing a power against which her people could not prevail. They could not prevail against those daemon or xenos things assailing them. Let alone the righteous attention of the Imperium's armed forces.

'Please. I will be happy to answer anything you have to ask about this world, Palatine. But can we speedily conclude negotiations first?'

(Next)

The Palatine's back is turned to her, though she had stopped her moving, the Palatine had broken out into a hearty laughter. Glynda fought to contain her rage. She thanked her lucky stars she didn't see the woman's face, she didn't think she could take more of the woman's condescending intimidation tactics.

'Negotiation?' She says through the laughter. 'What amongst all that has happened has so far made you think you have anything to bargain with?' She begins to walk over to Ozpin's desk as she speaks. Glynda banishes any thoughts that she may have killed Ozpin, it would only weaken her ability to remain calm and rational to dwell on the possibility she was speaking to her superior's murderer. Lives were at stake. Millions of lives. Ozpin would understand. Saving the city is what he would have wanted.

'No, what I require is unconditional surrender.'

'Surrender?' Glynda asks to confirm they are on the same page.

'Unconditional surrender.' The Palatine reiterates as she leans over an open atlas of Remnant. 'We do not need Beacon; Shade, Atlas, Haven, they will all do as well as Beacon in the grand scheme of things. But I would like to take this place in as good condition as I can manage. Whether I accomplish that or am compelled to destroy this place and seek out another base of operations. That is all on you.'

'Very well…' Glynda takes off her glasses and pinches her nose for a moment. 'We surrender and you will what? Will you protect us against the grimm?'

'I will spend the next two days overseeing the operations to secure the facilities needed to hold this city. In that time your students and any other security forces will be allowed to defend the residential districts as well as you can manage. Come the third day, those forces will surrender their arms to the provisional Imperial authority. From that time onwards I will assume responsibility for the sacred duty of defending mankind here, defending this city in particular and maintaining the Emperor's peace within its boundaries. This petty kingdom will be ruled by a provisional military administration until such time as the Eccleisiarchy consecrates this world as a shrine world.'

Glynda sighs deeply and her eyes water. At that moment the Palatine turns to face her. She can't help but think the Palatine is savouring the moment. She has that kind of mean spirited smile the alpha girls she taught over the years had. One in particular, a Haven girl who came just before the festival. With golden eyes and long back hair. She had the same kind of bitchy aura behind her smiles. And she speaks with the confident zeal of the fanatics of old. Those who in far off times bent the knees in prayer to the brothers.

'Palatine…' Glynda breathes in deeply. 'I accept the terms offered here. I surrender unconditionally on behalf of the Kingdom of Vale as per the terms offered.'