Chapter 74: Atlas - Hazy Shades of Winter

Year 71VE, November

Cover Art by Mi Chumi

Sixteen-year-old Winter Schnee strolled through the well-lit corridors of Atlas Academy like she belonged nowhere else.

Because in truth, she had few other places to be. Atlas Academy in many ways now represented her education, career, and only home.

To an outside observer, she epitomized Schnee aloofness and Atlesian self-assurance and discipline. Glacial-blue eyes cold and judging. Face set in hard angles. Hair in a tightly-bound bun. Back straight. Hands clasped behind her back. Chin raised slightly. Entire demeanor emphasized by her shades of grey Atlas Academy uniform.

To the outside world, she was all that an Atlas student, and a Schnee, should be.

Inside, she was a boiling mess of anticipation.

A little over a year ago, her father and mother had informed her, to her joy, that she had been accepted into Atlas Academy two years early. The pride in her mother's voice, and the affirmation in her father's expression, had been the culmination of years of self-discipline and a driving desire to please her parents, especially her demanding father. To live up to the high expectations that he repeatedly set for the Schnee name.

To be accepted into Atlas was an honor. To be accepted two years early was unheard of. She had wondered, briefly, whether her father had pulled strings to achieve this for her, and had then dismissed it. She had spent years with the best private tutors preparing for this moment. She had excelled. And then, less than a year ago, she had begun her official enrollment.

And she had, as expected, excelled. But she had also discovered some jarring truths.

The first revelation had come after matriculation, where she had learned that she would not be associated with a formal team like the other students were. It turned out that her father, while he was fully in favor of her receiving some formal Huntress Training, had informed Headmaster Ironwood that this was merely a stepping-stone toward a broader education in business, and that she would upon her majority leave Atlas Academy and begin taking Business Management and Dust Technology coursework in preparation for eventually taking over as heir of the Schnee Dust Company.

And as such, Jacques Schnee had demanded of Headmaster Ironwood that Winter not be placed with a team of her 'lessers' who would drag her down.

That had hurt more than she had anticipated. Rather than being a part of a team, she found herself isolated and to some extent ostracized due to her young age and externally enforced loner status. She was a double anomaly.

Oh, the Professors were sympathetic, as was Headmaster Ironwood. She had gone to him, less than a month in, and expressed her concerns clearly and lucidly, with a minimum of emotion. Right up until he had explained that his hands were tied in the matter. It was only then she'd broken down in front of him.

And to her shock, rather than be rebuked by the stern and businesslike Headmaster, Ironwood had been… comforting and supportive. He had again explained that he could not assign her to a team, as her father would quickly learn of it, but he also pointed out that after the first two years, once she reached her majority, she could do as she pleased, including finishing out her Academy training if she so chose.

"But sir," she had said thickly, "how will I be a proper Huntress if I do not have a team these first two years? Who would you assign me to?"

And Ironwood had smiled and nodded. "That's a very good point, young Winter. What if I told you that there are other avenues for someone with your obvious talent and drive." Headmaster Ironwood had stood from behind his desk, walked over to her, and knelt down. "Tell me, have you ever considered a role in the Atlas military?"

And then he'd explained how his dual responsibilities, as both Headmaster of Atlas Academy and as Captain of Atlesian Special Forces, had given him the idea of a sort of hybrid team of Specialists with both military and Huntsman training.

Fifteen-year-old Winter Schnee had latched onto the idea like a drowning woman to a floating log. From that day forward, she was able to ignore the taunts and teasing of the other students who called her a lone wolf and ice princess. She knew what she wished. She knew who she would be. Her father would be angry, but… she would address that when she reached her majority.

And all would have proceeded without further incident, had she not lost her composure when visiting home for her sister's tenth birthday.

Six months prior.

It had started innocently enough.

It was the 15th of May, and she had been helping her mother prepare for Weiss's 10th Birthday celebration that evening, which while it was mostly handled by the servants, did require some small personal touches and oversight. And she was fifteen and more than mature enough to assist her mother.

Mother and daughter had been reviewing the preparations together, and Winter had been taking notes on her scroll as her mother read off the completed items for later that evening. And then her father had rolled into her mother's suite like a thunderhead, blue eyes sharp and face slightly red.

"Jacques, darling, what is the matter?" Willow asked carefully, taking note of his demeanor.

Winter made to set her scroll down, and her father instead pointed to it with a shaking finger as he addressed Willow. "You will strike Colonel Brazeman from the guest list, along with his family," Jacques said, voice shaking in suppressed anger. "I've had quite enough of his foot-dragging and insinuations that I am 'bending procurement requirements'."

Winter and Willow looked at each other briefly. Neither of them particularly liked Colonel Brazeman, so removing him was of no significant importance to them, but they seldom saw the patriarch of the household so discomfited. "Of course," Willow nodded, and Winter began immediately adjusting the guest lists.

"And give his seats to… Major Torrent," he rubbed his chin, eyes narrowing and demeanor shifting rapidly from rage to something closer to satisfaction. "Yes. Major Torrent will do nicely," he said more quietly. "A double snub, for being so damned obstinate."

Willow nodded again to Winter, who began composing a message to the staff to make the required adjustments to the seating. They would also notify Colonel Augustus Brazeman, head of Atlesian Procurement, that he was disinvited to tonight's festivities in favor of one of his subordinates. An apparently up-and-coming subordinate, as Colonel Brazemen and Major Torrent would both learn in the coming months.

Jacques would leak the change in the guest list later, for maximum reputational damage.

"Stupid bureaucrats with no understanding of business," Jacques muttered, finally calming. He eased up to his daughter and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Let that be a lesson to you, Winter, for when the Schnee Dust Company is yours to manage, under my tutelage of course. These military men believe they have power and authority, but you will see, very quickly, how easily they are brought to heel when they forget themselves," he scoffed.

Unfortunately for Winter, she had not yet learned, not fully, how to keep her emotions masked around her father. This was because until that moment, she had not been required to do so. Until that moment, she had been happy to please him in all things, would have been eager to accept his statements as gospel.

Her newfound difference of opinion was due in large part to spending countless hours over the prior six months with Headmaster Ironwood… sometimes in his capacity as Captain of Atlesian Special Forces, learning about how the Atlas Military functioned. About its proud tradition of protecting the people of Atlas, no… of all of Remnant. The Atlas Military, alongside their Huntsmen partners, were what kept the Grimm at bay and humanity safe.

That truth had inspired her, it had taken root within her very soul, and she had purposed to epitomize the best of both. She would be elite, the apex of Huntsman skill and Military discipline. She would bring fame and respect to the Schnee name, albeit in a different manner than her father had previously expected of her.

And now her father was belittling the Atlas Military as nothing more than bureaucrats and impediments.

Her face had betrayed her feelings of disagreement. She saw the moment he noted it.

Jacques Schnee's brows drew down, and his blue eyes glinted dangerously. "You have something you wish to say, daughter?"

"I…" Winter hesitated, not willing to give voice to her… disagreement.

"Go on, spit it out!" He gestured.

"Jacques," Willow said quietly, placing a hand on his arm in an attempt to defuse the situation, "perhaps this conversation is more suited to another time? Weiss's birthday—"

"No," he pulled from his wife's grasp, "Winter clearly has an opinion in this matter. I wish to hear it, now."

Winter composed herself and took a deep breath. She saw her mother give the tiniest shake of her head. "I… believe that the Atlas military is a noble vocation, father."

She had expected him to rebuke her. Or to disagree.

What she did not expect was mocking laughter. It cut her to the bone. "Noble vocation? Noble vocation?!" He turned and paced a few steps before spinning back to face her. "The military is not a vocation, Winter, it's a service chosen by those without the influence or wit to become the true powers of this Kingdom." He stalked back to her, and waved one arm, encompassing the room and that which lay beyond it. "Look around you, Winter. This home, our fortune, the Schnee Dust Company. We live in comfort and opulence. A mere crook of the finger and Generals and Colonels come before us, hat in hand." He shook his head. "Look at the punishment I moments ago wrought in this very room, daughter. One of these servicemen displeases us, and now he will rise no higher than Colonel with his pittance of a retirement and decades to regret his misplaced self-importance."

He reached out and grasped the teenager by the shoulder again, less gently this time, "You must purge yourself of these misplaced ideas regarding noble vocations and service, daughter. There is one thing that matters in this world. Power. Power provides security, and wealth brings power." He frowned. "Is that Academy filling your head with propaganda during those classes you are taking?" He shook his head. "Those fictions are for the public, Winter. Not for a Schnee. You should know better!"

But it wasn't the classes that had taught her this. Oh no. It was watching Headmaster… no, Captain Ironwood.

She'd never had a strong male figure in her life, other than her father, or who wasn't subservient to him, to compare to… until this past year. And now...

And now.

She admired Captain Ironwood. She admired his discipline. She had seen the way others, even those not directly under his command, treated him with both respect and devotion. She heard the way he described not only military service, but the duty they had to Atlas and Remnant.

And her father was acting like her newfound idol was something to be dismissed, or pitied, or derided.

It wasn't correct. It felt viscerally wrong.

Her father was wrong.

"I am sorry father, I understand, but surely… without the military to protect Atlas—"

"We'd just have to hire more Huntsmen, or increase the size of our own contract forces," Jacques said dismissively. "We already take primary responsibility for the protection of our own business assets." He released her and began pacing again, "Bah, we could transition from a publicly-funded military to private contractors over the course of a few months, and likely at reduced cost as well." He began musing. "Reduce retirement benefits in favor of up-front signing bonuses. Priority given to protection of Dust transportation…" Past him, Winter saw her mother had withdrawn slightly, watching them both with an expression of concern.

"But father, what about the people of Atlas and Mantle?"

"Eh?" Jacques stopped in his tracks, blinking. "Oh, yes. Of course. Well, yes but that's what the Huntsmen are for." He waved dismissively, then frowned again. "Why the sudden focus on the Atlas military, Winter?"

"I… I… met some of them near campus," she lied, realizing finally that based on her father's reactions, mentioning Captain Ironwood might be detrimental to the man's future career path.

Jacques' mustaches twitched, and he laughed again. "Bah. A teenage crush based on a crisp uniform and vacuous expression? I had thought better of you, Winter."

That he would insult her so. The entire thought made her angry, and her voice raised slightly in pitch. "It's not like that father, I—"

"Don't you raise your voice to me, Winter!" He turned to his wife. "I told you we were coddling her too much." He returned his gaze to his daughter. "You will defer to me on this, Winter. Is that understood?"

For a moment, Winter Schnee almost defied her father in her frustration, then she deflated and nodded mutely.

Jacques' mouth worked before he spoke again. "Not good enough. I want to hear you say it."

"Father?"

"You will verbally repeat the lesson that I have just imparted to you. That the Atlas Military is nothing more than a glorified gaggle of brainless order-takers, to be brought to heel at need."

Ice settled in Winter's stomach. She… she couldn't say that. It would be an insult to her Headmaster. Her mouth worked, wordlessly.

"Well?!"

"Jacques, surely this isn't necessary. Perhaps if we took a moment—" Willow began.

The tall pale man turned to his wife and barked out a command, "Silence, Willow," shocking her to silence before turning back to his daughter. "Out with it!"

The cold feeling shifted, becoming something with more heat, and Winter's chin rose. "I cannot father, because it isn't true."

"It's true if I say it is, as you will learn when you see how actual power is wielded, unless you are too weak to take what I hand to you on a platter!"

"Weak?" Winter exclaimed in disbelief. "I will not be weak. I will… I will prove to you that I can bring honor to the Schnee name. I will become the epitome of respect, training, and discipline-"

"You're damned right you will, as CEO of the Schnee Dust Company!"

"-in the Atlas Military!" She declared.

There was a moment of shocked silence, not least of all from Winter, who had not imagined those words would come from her mouth.

"What idiocy is this?!"

The additional insult stiffened her spine. Winter's eyes narrowed. "It's not idiocy, father. It is… important."

Jacques stared between Winter and his wife, "Do you hear this, Willow? Our teenaged daughter has decided what is important." He turned back to her, and then leaned forward. "Well, I am your father, and I decide what is important. You will finish two years of Academy, and then you will complete your Business Studies, and you will forget all this foolishness. Is that clear?"

It should have been clear.

It should have been the end of it.

But of all the things that Winter Schnee had inherited from her father, the foremost of those had been pride, stubbornness, and tenacity.

"I will do as you say, father, until I have reached my majority. And then we shall see what—"

There was a sharp CRACK, and Winter's vision swam. The world reeled.

She heard a gasp.

It hurt. Yes. But the pain was nothing compared to the shock of what had just occurred.

Her father. The man who until this year she would have done anything to please, had struck her.

Had she been in a spar, she would have had her Aura up and been unsurprised by the blow. Had she not just spent months sparring with peers, receiving similar strikes in the arena, it might have left her weeping in a heap on the floor.

But Winter was a Huntress-in-Training and a Schnee.

No one treated her thus. Not even her father.

She spared her mother a look, expecting that at least she would say something, do something to show that what her father had done was unacceptable, and saw nothing but shock. Her mother's hand was in front of her mouth, obscuring her expression somewhat.

Fine then.

And so, righting herself, she mustered her coldest teenaged glare, lifted her chin, and left the room.

She did not attend her sister's birthday party, but sent her apologies.

The bruise on her cheek was easily hidden with makeup and she spoke to no one regarding what had occurred. It was none of their affair.

Over the rest of that month, Winter received messages from her father, none of which she answered. Because none of them included an apology. First were demands she reply and threats to withdraw her from Academy, which she feared he would do. But instead, over time, the tone shifted from threats to enticements and inducements.

Those too, she ignored.

She received several voicemails from her mother, but she was so disappointed, so angry at her mother's failure to support her, that she deleted them without listening to the first few, and then to her dismay, the later ones devolved into little more than inebriated ramblings.

It was only later the following month that she was summoned to Headmaster Ironwood's offices.

The Headmaster's office was a vast affair, designed to impress upon the visitor the importance of the role he played. One of four such Headmasters across Remnant. He sat behind his massive oak desk on its raised platform, and she stood before him, hands clasped behind her back.

"Your father has contacted me, informing me that he will no longer be paying your tuition at Atlas Academy, nor providing you an allowance to do so." He frowned. "He stated, and I am quoting here, 'if my daughter believes she is mature enough to defy me, she can do so without the family's assistance.'"

Winter had feared this moment. She had known it would occur. Her head bowed and eyes closed. "I understand, Headmaster."

Ironwood continued smoothly. "Unfortunately, your father did not. I must say he was, rather surprised, to learn that you were already fully employed and covering your own tuition and expenses."

Winter's eyes flew open, and her jaw dropped, ruining her composure. What? "Sir?"

"Yes, it turns out that you've been employed as an administrative assistant to someone in the Atlas Military. I was unsure who exactly, and he appeared sufficiently angry that he neglected to ask." Ironwood's face betrayed absolutely zero emotion as he stood, straightening his uniform. He made his way around his desk and slowly worked his way down the steps toward her.

"Headmaster, I am…" She shook her head, at a loss for words.

The Headmaster placed a warm hand on her shoulder. "Ms. Schnee, you are, without doubt, one of the most promising students I have seen in a very long time." His jaw tensed for a moment. "And I'll be damned if I see that talent thrown away because of a family dispute." He shook his head. "It's your decision whether you decide to take me up on my offer."

Winter's hands released behind her back and shifted around to clasp in front of her in a rare display of being overwhelmed. "Thank you, Headmaster! I accept!"

"Good. You'll be responsible for maintaining your studies at the Academy of course. But I know you, Ms. Schnee. You'll excel without any prompting from me. In addition to your studies, you will be spending Saturdays, breaks, and any other time available between classes working with me. I'll begin training you in military logistics and tactical theory for special forces teams. Are you up for it?" His expression left no doubt what he expected her answer to be.

"Oh yes!" She collected herself. "Yes, Headmaster. I am.

Ironwood had insisted she segregate her two educations, as much as possible. But as with all things at Atlas, it could be challenging at times. It did help that Ironwood, in addition to his offices at the Academy, maintained a smaller, more functional suite at Atlas Military Headquarters. It provided that slight bit of air gap required to adjust not only relationships, but mindset between his two roles as the highest-ranking Huntsman in Atlas, and a that of relatively low-level officer in charge of a small, elite military force.

And so, she found herself changing from her Atlas Academy uniform into that of an Atlesian Cadet. The former was primarily shades of gray with a utilitarian combat skirt.

The latter, on the other hand, consisted of a white long-sleeved coat with a dark blue clasp around the waist. Beneath it she wore a white pleated sleeveless blouse with a dark blue waistcoat. A pair of white trousers and gray thigh boots completed the attire.

She met her superior officer, Captain Ironwood, at the Atlas Academy transfer hub, where light rail would take them both to Atlas Military Headquarters.

"Cadet. Prompt as ever."

"Sir. You stated this was an important meeting."

"And indeed it is, I'm going to be introducing you to my Specialists. I want them to have as high an opinion of you as I do, Cadet."

"Thank you, sir. I won't let you down."

Captain James Ironwood sat behind the utilitarian steel and plexglas desk in his modest office. Beside that desk stood Cadet Specialist Winter Schnee. She was visibly preening. She had the cadet insignia and everything.

She was waiting to meet her future teammates!

There was a chime. Ironwood opened the door remotely, and Team November filed into the office in good order. They were wearing field uniforms, black insulated fatigues without rank insignia, and entered single file before adjusting themselves into a single row before his desk. Each saluted as they took their place with a belted out "Sir!"

But rather than appear pleased, Captain Ironwood instead looked… bemused. "At ease, Specialists."

Winter's eyes narrowed at his drawled tone, but she was pleased to see them each respond appropriately. Stances widened slightly, hands clasped behind them, shoulders somewhat relaxed.

Ironwood's mouth turned down slightly. "Oh, for the gods sakes… that's enough."

And with chorus of laughs, the four Atlas operatives fell out of formation, grabbed nearby chairs, and plopped down into them in a most… unordered fashion.

What manner of soldiers are these?

"Team November, this is Cadet Specialist Winter Schnee. Cadet, this is Team November." He introduced them in turn. "The old man nearest you is Specialist Sylvus Richmond, call-sign Charlie. He's the leader of this quad of miscreants."

Winter turned her eyes to the older man. He was the most formal appearing of the group, with gray hair, brown eyes, and a naturally stern expression. "Cadet Specialist," the man nodded. "I look forward to working with you."

"And… you… sir."

Charlie snorted. "The only sir in this room is the Captain. Save that for the parades, Cadet."

"I… see. Charlie?"

"That's the way," the man smiled kindly.

Ironwood continued smoothly, indicating a shorter, leaner man with tan skin and dark eyes. "And next to him is Diego Sigune, call-sign Delta. Delta is our designated overwatch and sniper."

"He's afraid to play up close and personal," a bulkier blonde man next to him drawled.

"And the one that believes himself to be humorous is Everest Prester, call-sign Echo. He's our demolitions expert."

"Echo. Delta," Winter nodded to each in turn.

"And that leaves me," the remaining member and only woman piped up without waiting for the Captain. "Helena. calls-ign Foxtrot." Winter regarded her. She was muscular and athletic, with platinum-blonde hair and brown eyes.

"Foxtrot is our Communications and Engineering expert," Ironwood explained.

"She thinks she's smarter than the rest of us," Delta complained.

"She is smarter than the rest of us, dummy!" Echo corrected him, with a punch to the shoulder.

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Children," Charlie scolded.

What have I gotten myself into?

A month later, Winter Schnee knew exactly what she'd gotten herself into.

Team November were… incredible.

How did she know this? Definitely not by accompanying them on missions. She wasn't allowed within a kilometer of them when they were on a mission. And not from observing them during their meetings with the Captain, where they were often insubordinate, casual, and lacking in all good military order.

Oh no. She'd reviewed their after-action reports for the last several years and reviewed hours and hours of recorded audio and video footage of their missions.

It was night and day. All the banter, the apparent lack of discipline, the lack of… everything that made them Atlas Military… disappeared the moment they stepped aboard an outbound Bullhead, other than a bit of light bantering camaraderie.

She found herself… hungering for that sort of work relationship.

For their part, while they appeared to accept her as a junior member, until she was able to reach her majority and complete her Academy training, she knew that she would never have that type of relationship with them. She was and would remain a child, and a cadet, relegated to office work.

Important office work, Ironwood had assured her.

But still, office work.

Cadet Specialist Winter Schnee felt like her stomach might devour her insides.

"Cadet Specialist, Report."

"Sir," she glanced uncomfortably at the men and woman seated before her. She had not imagined that she would be required to deliver her analysis in front of the people she was… critiquing. It was horrifying.

The urge to soft-pedal her report loomed in her mind. It was seductively sweet. It would promise a smooth working relationship. It would prevent them seeing her as an arrogant Schnee.

She couldn't. She must be blunt.

"I'm waiting, Cadet."

"Sir," she paused. "As instructed, I reviewed the After Action Report, as well as the audio and video footage from Mission 71-5, with further instruction to look for any… areas for potential improvements." She stared carefully ahead at Captain Ironwood, but she could feel the eyes of Team November on her. It made her scalp crawl.

"And your analysis?"

"Sir, the mission was completed fully successfully with all three required objectives achieved. Hostages recovered. Terrorists neutralized. Zero friendly casualties. In addition, all use of Atlesian resources were easily justified."

There were murmurs of satisfaction.

"And the negatives?"

Uncomfortable pause, "Based on past reports, and my understanding of Atlas military doctrine… we should have… incorporated additional resources, sir. There were too many potential egress points to cover with a four-person team."

She glanced to her right, to find the Team sharing glances, but no one interrupted her.

"What else?"

Winter tapped her scroll and sent the resulting holographic model of the mission location to hover over Ironwood's desk. "Overwatch was set up here." She highlighted a rooftop. "In hindsight, this was not the ideal location. A better location would have been here," a second location was highlighted.

She heard a noise from her right, and faltered for a moment, but Ironwood motioned her to continue.

"And jamming of communications could, arguably, been delayed for an additional thirty seconds, to coincide better with the shaped charges, sir." She cleared her throat. "Other than that, sir, everything was textbook."

Captain Ironwood regarded her for a few more moments, and then turned to Team November. "And what do you four have to say to that critique?"

Winter's fingernails dug into her palms.

"Fucking told you," Echo complained to Delta.

"Told me? Foxtrot was the one who got itchy fingers on the jammer!"

"I was talking about the roof, dummy!"

Winter blinked, and felt her hands unclench, and then realized Charlie was staring at her.

"Charlie, do you have anything to add?"

Charlie pulled out his scroll and swiped, sending a document to both Ironwood and Winter. "Sir, here is my supplemental report." He gave Winter a small smile, "The one where you requested I include my own criticisms of our performance." Winter Schnee's eyes widened, and she scrambled to open the file and began reading furiously. "Don't sweat it, Cadet Specialist. You were easier on us than I was, and you caught the important stuff."

"Great. Now there's two of 'em." Echo groused.

"Yep. And you can't bribe her with booze," Foxtrot smirked.

"Shit. We're screwed."

[A/N] Hey Shadowstorm! To answer your question, we don't know (well I know, but I'm not talking) how Selene is going to pull this off. And yes, Watts is making a mistake, but a lot of people are going to pay the price for that mistake. And regarding the Ever After, while it technically exists, I wasn't planning on making it a significant part of this story.

And Rookie there are good things in store for Weiss, as you will learn in later chapters, but first we have to (as shown here) find out what's going on with her older sister. :-)

And to all, a bit of another 'introductory' chapter that fills in some canon backstory and then diverges. I wanted to explore how the heck Winter Schnee ended up a Specialist at such a young age, and perhaps explain her strong attachment to Ironwood (platonically) of course.

And of course, while there are no NAMED Specialists besides her in canon at this stage, the Ace Ops are coming up the pipeline during the next decade or so.

Next Chapter we will return to Summer and Qrow and what sort of shenanigans they're getting up to in Vale.