SAPR

by Scipio Smith


Ozpin and Ironwood (New)

Ozpin and Ironwood

Councillor Mi Amore Cadenza – Cadance to those close to her – stepped lightly into General Ironwood’s spacious, barren office at the top of Atlas Tower. Her pink stilettos tapped lightly upon the dark grey floor as she approached the desk.
The General himself rose to his feet, a slight smile gracing his square features at her approach. That General Ironwood was nearly as cybernetic as he was human was well known amongst those who knew and worked with him – Cadance counted herself fortunate to do both – but in truth, Cadance always thought of the general less as a man forged and more as one hewn, as from rock. Poets were fond of describing beautiful young men as being as if carved from marble by the sculptor’s art, but with his square features, broad shoulders, and solid, powerful build, Cadance had a rather more solid kind of stone in mind. Like Atlas itself, General Ironwood appeared to have been torn out of the earth itself.
And yet there was nothing brutish or earthy about his manner as he walked around his desk and descended the steps that raised him up above the rest of the office. His voice was soft as he said, “Councillor Cadenza, thank you for accepting my invitation.”
“It was my pleasure, General,” Cadance replied. One eyebrow rose as she regarded the pair of office chairs sitting unobtrusively in the corner of the room. “Since when do you have chairs in your office?”
“Since I decided that I possibly shouldn’t keep councillors standing like cadets or junior officers,” General Ironwood replied with good humour. He gestured to the chairs with his white-gloved hand. “Please. Take a seat.”
“Thank you, General,” Cadance said. She would never say this out loud, but Cadance often thought that Ironwood embodied all of the best qualities of the Atlesian military over which he presided: not the smartest, not the nimblest, but faithful, strong, and always dependable. The kind of man who would shelter you in his arms as though you were his own daughter presided over the army that would shelter the world within its armoured embrace.
Cadance herself was a woman whom many were kind enough to call beautiful, with a fair face and long hair, divided into almost equal streaks of purple, pink, and gold that fell down her back and over her shoulders, curling at the tips. Her eyes were a deep, rich purple. She was dressed in a light blue blouse and pink pencil skirt, with a pink jacket over the top of her blouse, and around her neck, she wore a golden necklace, set with a glimmering sapphire in the shape of a heart. It had been a gift from her husband.
She took the seat that General Ironwood offered her, smoothing out her skirt with both hands as the General took the seat opposite her.
Cadance noticed that he was still holding a scroll in his hands. “A report?” she asked, glancing towards it.
General Ironwood looked down at the scroll as if he’d forgotten he was still holding onto it. “Yes,” he said. “The after action report of the Reliable.”
“I see,” Cadance said. “Those men deserve commendations for their actions, but I don’t mind admitting, General, that it concerns me that it was necessary.” The airship route between Atlas and Vale had been a safe one for as long as Cadance could remember, but recently, grimm activity over the ocean had begun to increase; flying grimm had been setting out over the water much further than – so it seemed – they had done before. One airship from Vale had disappeared, and given that its last contact had been a report of a nevermore sighting, it was being presumed lost; another airship had only narrowly avoided the same fate after the Atlesian cruiser Reliable had picked up its distress call, gone to its aid, and driven off the nevermores. “If travel between kingdoms becomes too difficult, then we will all suffer.”
“I understand,” General Ironwood said. “That’s why I’ve detached the Fifth and Seventh Squadrons from the Home Fleet and tasked them to reinforce our patrols on the airship routes to Vale and Mistral respectively. With those additional ships, I’m hoping we can provide enough cover to keep the skyways clear.”
“And if it’s not enough?” Cadance asked.
“Then we may have to discuss convoys,” General Ironwood said darkly. “There simply aren’t enough ships, even if I redeployed the entire Home Fleet, to protect every vessel individually making its way to or from Atlas.”
“Then let’s hope that your extra squadrons are enough,” Cadance said. “If we start talking about convoys, then alarm is just going to spike on both sides of the ocean.”
“Indeed, that’s why I’m holding it as a last resort,” General Ironwood replied.
Cadance nodded. She paused for a moment. “Twilight’s friends are flying out to Vale soon, to pay her a visit – and Rainbow Dash, of course.” She bit her lip. “A part of me wants to counsel them not to go.”
“You said it yourself, Councillor: we need to maintain travel between the kingdoms,” General Ironwood pointed out.
“I know,” Cadance replied, “but you understand my concern.”
“Believe me, I’m well aware of what it’s like to send others into the line of fire, even when they matter to you,” General Ironwood said softly. “Have you spoken with Twilight?” he asked, with the air of someone deliberately attempting to change the subject.
“Yes, she calls every couple of weeks or so,” Cadance answered. “I haven’t told her about the visit; the girls want it to be a surprise. She – they – seem to be doing well there.”
“Rainbow’s gamble paid off,” General Ironwood said. “One of them, at least.”
The corners of Cadance’s lips twitched upwards in spite of the seriousness of the situation. “Have you spoken to Rainbow Dash about what happened at the Vale docks?”
“No,” General Ironwood admitted. “Some dressings down are best delivered in person.”
“Don’t be too hard on her,” Cadance urged. “I’m sure she did what she thought was right.”
“People usually do; it doesn’t mean that they don’t make mistakes,” General Ironwood replied.
“True, of course,” Cadance said softly. She crossed her legs, and placed her hands upon her knee. “So, General, what did you actually ask me here to discuss?”
“I invited you here to ask for your support on a forthcoming Council motion,” General Ironwood declared. “As you’re aware, a substantial proportion of our students will be travelling to Vale for the second semester as part of the events surrounding the Vytal Festival.”
“Cultural exchange and symbolic unity,” Cadance murmured. “I think that Shining Armour’s interest in duelling dates back to his semester at Haven.”
“When they go, I plan to lead an expeditionary force to accompany them to Vale and remain there until the conclusion of the festival,” General Ironwood announced. “I need our Council to back me in approaching the Vale Council for their permission to bring my ships and troops into their territory.”
“That might not be so easy after what happened the last time they gave their permission to the presence of an Atlesian ship,” Cadance pointed out.
“I’m aware,” General Ironwood replied. “However, I’m hoping that with bigger issues pressing upon their attention, the Vale Council will be reasonable on the subject.”
“I see,” Cadance murmured. “And you wanted to get my vote in advance of the meeting?”
“I’d like to know I have at least some support walking into that chamber,” General Ironwood said.
“Very reasonable of you,” Cadance replied. “What size of expeditionary force do you have in mind?”
“Two squadrons, the First and Fourth, with full complements of troops and equipment,” Ironwood explained. “Plus my own flagship.”
Cadance’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. “You’re taking this from the Home Fleet? How many squadrons would that leave defending Atlas?”
“Four,” Ironwood said, “but Atlas isn’t under attack right now, or even the threat of attack; the Home Fleet is meant to serve as a reserve to draw upon for other duties as much as it is a fleet in being. I’m not leaving Atlas vulnerable because Atlas is not in danger.”
“But Vale is, or you believe it is?” Cadance asked. “This is an unusual step, General.”
“The White Fang in Vale have grown bold,” General Ironwood insisted. “The incident at the docks was on a scale not seen since… since your wedding, Councillor.”
Cadance swallowed. One hand went reflexively to the sapphire heart around her neck. My wedding. Indeed. The happiest night of my life preceded by a day I would much rather forget.
General Ironwood looked apologetic. “I’m sorry to bring up bad memories, Councillor, but it was the last time the White Fang did anything on such a scale. Nor was the attempted theft at the docks an isolated incident. It was only the culmination of a campaign of dust robberies within the city of Vale, robberies which still haven’t completely ceased. I don’t know what they’re planning to do with all of that dust, but I know our students are going to be right in the middle of it when the other shoe drops.”
Twilight. “And you don’t think that the Valish authorities can contain this situation?” Cadance asked.
“I think if they could, they would have done it already,” General Ironwood replied.
It was hard to argue with that, but at the same time, there was something about his plan that was not entirely convincing. “I’m not entirely sure how an Atlesian fleet is going to resolve the situation,” Cadance pointed out. “I hope you’re not proposing to bomb our ally in order to smoke out the White Fang.”
“Of course not, Councillor,” General Ironwood said shortly, and for the first time in their interview, he appeared a little uncomfortable. “But, depending on the intentions of the White Fang, I think it would be wise to have a full range of tactical options at our disposal. And there is the possibility that the emotions engendered by the White Fang will attract grimm to Vale; there are already disturbing reports of grimm concentrations in the more secluded parts of the kingdom.”
“I’m aware of that, General,” Cadance said. She paused. She couldn’t help but feel that there was something General Ironwood wasn’t telling her. A fleet was, to say the least, an asymmetrical match-up against the White Fang, and one that would be of limited use in Vale – although she supposed that the troops carried within those ships might be more useful. Yes, General Ironwood raised some plausible concerns, but he didn’t mention them until he needed some way to answer her.
Or perhaps she was just reading too much into things.
Ultimately, the General talked a great deal of sense. The White Fang were not robbing dust shops for the thrill of larceny, nor were they stockpiling dust merely to drive up Jacques Schnee’s prices. It was unlikely – highly unlikely – that they would try to move it from one kingdom to another; therefore, it was logical to assume that they had something planned in Vale.
Which meant, as General Ironwood had said, that Twilight and Rainbow Dash and all the Atlesian students – not to mention the Atlesians studying at Beacon like Weiss Schnee or arriving in Vale from Haven or Shade Academies – would be at ground zero when whatever happened... happened.
Not to mention all of the tourists who will plan to head to Vale for the tournament. Cadance had planned to be one of them.
To ignore credible intelligence – or at least credible supposition – of an attack and leave all those people, leave the children, at the mercy of events would be an unforgivable dereliction of duty.
“Will you brief the children,” she asked, “about what they’re walking into?”
“They’re not walking into anything,” General Ironwood replied, “and if we do our jobs, they won’t ever realise there was anything amiss.”
“I hope so,” Cadance said. “Very well, General, you’ll have my support when this goes to Council.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Councillor,” General Ironwood said warmly. “I hope that the rest of the councils of Atlas and Vale are as easy to convince.”


As the conference call ended, Ozpin could not restrain himself from putting his head in his hands. There were times, he would confess, if only to himself, when he missed having the authority to just give people orders in the expectation that those orders would be obeyed without question.
Unfortunately, he was still posed thus in his misery when the elevator doors opened and Glynda came in.
"I was going to ask how the meeting went, but that seems a little redundant now," Glynda observed.
Ozpin raised his head with a sigh. "I am coming to the conclusion that when politicians announce they are setting up a task force, they are less interested in results and more in presenting the appearance of action for the public."
"I was under the impression that the First Councillor earnestly desired to tackle these robberies," Glynda replied.
"You wouldn't know it from the way these people I have to deal with behave," Ozpin lamented. "They are all more interested in bureaucracy than action, more interested in safeguarding their own powers and prerogatives than in working together for the good of Vale."
"This era of peace has endured for many years, and many people have grown comfortable within it," Glynda observed. She offered him a wry smile. "You might say that this situation, frustrating though it is, is a testament to your accomplishments."
There was a note of amusement in Ozpin's voice that did not show upon his face. "Is that supposed to comfort me, Glynda?"
"I hoped it might offer a crumb, at least."
"I could do with such," Ozpin admitted. "These tidings of the grimm concern me even more than the actions of the White Fang. Not least because it proves, to my own satisfaction at least, that Qrow was right and the White Fang have entered into her service."
Glynda's face fell; a frown disfigured her features. "What is she planning?" she asked. "If the grimm are massing, why don't they attack?"
"Perhaps they're waiting for something," Ozpin suggested, "or perhaps their intent is not to attack but rather to exercise a sort of vague menace upon which we cannot turn our back." He might have said more, but the holographic display upon his desk sprang to life again at that moment, flashing as it indicated that the First Councillor was trying to reach him.
"I'll give you some privacy," Glynda offered.
"That won't be necessary," Ozpin informed him, although Glynda did stay out of sight as Ozpin pressed a holographic button from the display that appeared over his glass desk.
The face of First Councillor Novo Aris appeared on the screen in front of him. "Ozpin."
"Madame Councillor," Ozpin replied.
"Please tell me that you're making some progress on these robberies," Novo said, with a weary groan in her voice.
"The pace of robberies has slowed down within the city," Ozpin said, "but I am afraid that we are no closer to apprehending Roman Torchwick or the leadership of the White Fang."
Novo sighed. "That is not what I wanted to hear. I appreciate that getting different agencies and jurisdictions to work together is like herding cats, but I had hoped that you would have some secret to getting it done."
"The police presence on the streets has been increased, and guards have been posted at the docks and the commercial sky docks against further robbery attempts," Ozpin explained. "I think that is helping to suppress the activity, but in terms of finding those responsible when they do not wish to be found… I am not a detective, Madame Councillor."
"No, but you can call upon the services of those who are," Novo pointed out. "Are there no leads? What about the source that tipped you off about the docks?"
"Unfortunately, I have heard nothing more from them," Ozpin said, trusting his poker face to give nothing away on that account. "They may fear retribution for what they have told me already."
Novo snorted. "So what you're telling me is that you're nowhere."
"What I'm telling you, Madame Councillor, is that robberies are decreasing in regularity," Ozpin corrected her. "Is that not at least a crumb of good news?"
"I would have preferred not to have appeared to concede the argument on policing," Novo grumbled. "But I'll take it." She sighed. "But if there's nothing else-?"
"Actually, Madame Councillor, there is one more thing," Ozpin interrupted before she could end the call. "I was hoping to discuss with you the worrying reports of grimm activity around some of Vale's smaller and more far-flung communities."
Novo's eyebrow rose. "I've read the reports; they didn't seem that disturbing. As I understand, the grimm are not attacking; they're just lurking out there."
"A distinction that I fear may be lost on some of the frightened people now living with the knowledge that there are grimm skulking just beyond the boundaries of their village," Ozpin chided her. "Nor can we be certain that this happy state of affairs will continue. Whatever is motivating the grimm to hold back at present, I cannot imagine that they will be restrained forever. There will be bloodshed unless something is done."
"If these places feel threatened, they are perfectly at liberty to hire huntsmen to defend them," Novo said.
"Alas, I fear that many of these settlements lack the funds to do so," Ozpin replied. "Madame Councillor, you are justly proud of your economic revolution within the cities, but in the rural regions, I am afraid that many have been left behind. If the Council were to post jobs to go and guard these small towns and villages, paid for by the state-"
"We're in the middle of a crime wave driven by a terrorist organisation, and you want the Council to pay our huntsmen to leave the city and disperse themselves across the countryside?"
"I think that the Council should protect the people," Ozpin said quietly, "even if they happen to live beyond the walls of Vale proper."
Novo stared at him for a moment out of the screen. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "This will not be popular," she said.
"The right decision is not always popular, nor easy," Ozpin declared. "But that does not make it any less right."
"Yes, thank you, Professor," Novo muttered.
Ozpin chuckled. "Forgive me, Madame Councillor; I have spent too long as a teacher, and slipping into lecturing mode comes all too naturally to me. But I genuinely believe that something must be done. If I may trespass upon your domain, as unpopular as the despatch of huntsmen may be, I cannot imagine that your opponents will show any charity or understanding of your plight once villages begin to be slaughtered by the grimm."
"No, of course they won't; they'll rip me to pieces on it," Novo said sharply. She cringed as she realised what she'd just said. "Very well, I'll place your proposal on the Council agenda, and I'll whip to get it through. Speaking of Council agenda, I've just received a request from Atlas which will be debated in our next session. I'll send it over so you can look at it before then."
"Thank you, Madame Councillor," Ozpin said, a little intrigued at what Atlas might request of Vale.
Novo said nothing for a moment. "The White Fang in the city, the grimm beyond the walls. Tell me truthfully, Ozpin: is the Vytal Festival safe to go ahead?"
"If the Vytal Festival were only to be held in days of utter safety and security, it would scarce be worth holding at all," Ozpin replied. "It is in times of increased peril when the bonds between kingdoms forged and represented by the festival are more necessary than ever."
"Very stirring," Novo said dryly, "but not the question that I asked."
"I think, with caution, that there is no reason that the Vytal Festival should not be a great success, reflecting favourably upon Vale in the eyes of the world," Ozpin said.
"I'm glad to hear you say that," Novo admitted. "People are becoming concerned, and I'm not immune to it myself."
"Concern is natural," Ozpin assured her, "but, in the present circumstances, not necessary."
"Good. I'll send you the Atlesian request and let you get back to work," Novo said. "Good day, Professor."
"Good day, Madame Councillor," Ozpin said as the screen blinked off.
"Are you sure?" Glynda asked.
Ozpin glanced at her. "About what, Glynda?"
"The Vytal Festival," Glynda said. "About the huntsmen."
"With the regards to the former, it is imperative that the Festival go ahead if at all possible," Ozpin insisted. "To cancel such a high profile event would only spread panic." He rested his elbows on his desk and clasped his hands together. "As for your other point… I am fairly certain that I have just walked, with eyes open, into the trap that she has laid out before me."
"Then why-?"
"Because what else could I have done?" Ozpin asked. "There are lives at stake, innocent lives; I cannot sacrifice them, or even risk them being lost when I have the power to prevent it, for the sake of some nebulous future good. I must do the right thing when it is before me, and if there are future consequences to my actions, then… then I will face them in future." His scroll buzzed. Ozpin picked it up off his desk and examined the document that Councillor Aris had forwarded onto him.
His eyebrows rose.
"Professor Ozpin?" Glynda asked anxiously.
"Oh, James," Ozpin sighed. "What are you thinking?"


Ironwood kept his back straight as he looked at the image of Ozpin in his screen. "Ozpin, I have served you faithfully for years; at some point, you're going to have to start trusting me a little bit." Or at least I wish you would. "I know what I'm doing."
"You're doing what you think is right, I'm sure," Ozpin said congenially. "But-"
"Everything before the 'but' is worthless," Ironwood muttered.
"We are in a time of peace, James," Ozpin insisted.
"With the White Fang on the loose in Vale, travel between kingdoms becoming increasingly fraught, and grimm massing on the outskirts of the kingdom," Ironwood said. "Forgive me, but that doesn't sound particularly peaceful."
"All the more reason not to inflame the situation with a show of force that will just encourage the worst impression of the situation," Ozpin said.
"People have eyes and ears, Oz," Ironwood said. "They can watch a news broadcast, they can read reports, they have to know that Vale is becoming less safe than it was. A strong response will make people feel safer for knowing that something is being done to protect them, and our enemies-"
"You cannot intimidate her with ships or armies or mechanical toys," Ozpin said.
"Maybe not, but I think you'll find the White Fang are a different story altogether," Ironwood replied. "There's a reason their activity in Atlas has reduced to practically nothing."
Ozpin sighed. "I don't want people to look at the size of our defences and wonder what it is that we're preparing to fight."
"If they don't already know the answer to that, then they're too blind to be worth concerning yourself with," Ironwood said sharply. He sighed. "Forgive me, but… I know your views, and I'm sure that you come by them honestly. But my fleets and armies are not the grimm magnet that you paint them as. I have good people, Oz; brave and disciplined and ready to throw their bodies into the breach to close it up if need be. They can be of help, and quite frankly, you insult them by suggesting that the only thing they would accomplish in Vale is spread panic and confusion."
Ozpin was silent for a moment. "And if your forces do alarm the people? If they bring the grimm?"
"Then they will burn in the fire we will rain down on them," Ironwood declared. "There is nothing that will be drawn by our presence that we cannot handle, and I think if you allow this, you'll find that people in Vale are as reassured by the sight of the fleet overhead as they are in Atlas. I'm not proposing to come to invade, but to put my arms around an ally, and people will appreciate the difference." He paused. "You were the one who brought me in, Oz. You were the one who opened my eyes; other people may call this an era of peace, but we're at war; you taught me that."
"A war where the weapons are knowledge, ideology… and manipulation," Ozpin said, sounding more than a little guilty as he listed that last word. "Not ships or armies."
"It won't be knowledge or ideology that kills you, or anyone else for that matter," Ironwood said. "She's coming for you, Oz."
"We can't be sure of that."
"How can you doubt it?" Ironwood demanded. "If what Qrow said is true-"
"Then we will handle it tactfully," Ozpin insisted.
"And how is that working so far?" Ironwood snapped. He shook his head. "I'm sorry; that was uncalled for."
Ozpin did not appear fazed. "Is there nothing I can say that would dissuade you?" he asked.
"I am your servant, but I am also a soldier of Atlas," Ironwood informed him. "I have loyalties to others than just you."
"Meaning that it is the interests of Atlas that would see you bring your ships across the ocean?"
"Meaning that Vale is turning into an almost-literal dust keg, and I'm not going to send my students into the middle of it without support. Oz, can you really deny that something is coming? And do you really expect me to sit back in Atlas and watch it happen, especially with my students at Beacon for the Vytal Festival?" He paused. "It was bad enough with Rainbow Dash caught up in that business at the docks, but knowing that there is more to follow… I have to do this, for their sake if nothing else."
Ozpin chuckled. "You're fond of her, aren't you?"
"You say that like it's a bad thing to like my students."
"I wouldn't say that," Ozpin replied. "But you… to be frank, James, you seem to collect daughters the way that other teachers collect textbooks."
"As if you don't have any favourites," Ironwood responded. "What about Ruby Rose, the girl you let into Beacon two years early?"
The humour faded from Ozpin's face. "Miss Rose… is very skilled, not to mention daring, kind, brave; all the virtues of a huntress are mixed in her."
"And I've never met anyone with more guts and determination than Rainbow Dash," Ironwood replied. "We look for different things in our students, but let's not pretend that there aren't some we find more promising than others."
"I could dispute the fact that Miss Dash is only a favoured student to you, but what would be the point?" Ozpin asked rhetorically. "I can't say I'm thrilled by the way your students behaved at the docks – as I told you at the time – but I can't deny that they behaved in an impeccably Atlesian fashion. Which brings us back to the point of your forces and their presence in Vale."
"Once they got over the shock, I'm sure that no one had a problem with us shooting down terrorists," Ironwood grumbled. "If there was any alarm, it was surely to do with the fact that there were terrorists to be shot down in the first place."
"I would prefer you did not do this," Ozpin urged.
"And I would rather that I didn't have to," Ironwood replied, "but I think it's come to this, even if you don't. I suppose only time will tell which of us is right." He paused. "Do you think your children can win a war, Oz?"
Ozpin did not reply immediately. "I hope they never have to."
"So do I," Ironwood agreed, "but I'm not willing to leave it to hope, and I'm certainly not willing to let them fight a war alone, unsupported. That's just not the Atlesian way. Nobody gets left behind."
"An admirable sentiment, but in this instance…" Ozpin trailed off. "As you say, time will tell. We shall see what the Council has to say about your intent."
"We certainly will," Ironwood agreed.


Ozpin did not usually bother to attend Council meetings in person; as a rule, he video-called in from his office at Beacon, but given that one of the topics on the agenda was something he himself had put there he had decided that it would be courteous to show his face. And so, he had come down to the Palace of Northcote, for many generations the seat of Vale's rubber-stamp legislature and the meeting place for the Council that had replaced the monarchy as the true focal point of power in Vale. The baroque, towering structure was guarded by Yeomen Warders of His Majesty’s Palaces and Fortresses and Members of the Sovereign Bodyguard of the Yeomen Guard Extraordinary, Yeomen for short, retired huntsmen and huntresses in ceremonial dress of red and gold with the royal crest emblazoned upon their chests. One of the yeomen, a former pupil of his, led Ozpin through the ancient palace corridors, where the gargoyles lurked in the shadowy nooks and crannies of the ceiling, into the Council Chamber, where Ozpin found that he was the last to arrive. Guards rather closer to the prime of life than the Yeomen Warders, although still wearing gilded ceremonial armour, stood vigil around the edges of the dimly lit chamber. General Seaspray of the Royal Navy stood erect, hands clasped behind him, in one corner of the room.
First Councillor Aris sat in the centre of the semi-circular table that dominated the Council Chamber, as befitting her status, with her hands clasped in front of her as she waited for him. Upon her right sat Peregrine Winchester, grandfather of young Mister Winchester and Lord Chief Justice, highest law officer in the kingdom; he was an old man with spotted skin, sagging jowls, and thin grey hair that was in steady retreat from the top of his head. Upon the right of the Lord Chief Justice sat Chancellor Leo Aquas, whose task it was to handle the realm’s financials; he was a young-ish man about Glynda’s age, with a long, leonine mane of red hair and a goatee to match.
Councillor of the Interior Aspen Emerald sat upon the left hand of Novo Aris. He was the only faunus to sit upon the council, a deer faunus with majestic antlers sprouting from his forehead to spread out like a tree until they were wider than his shoulders’ width. He was tall, and visibly so even when seated; his eyes were a rather sickly shade of green.
The left hand seat was empty, for it was for Ozpin himself.
"My apologies for my tardiness, Councillors," Ozpin murmured as he walked to his seat, his cane tapping lightly upon the floor. "I had forgotten how bad the traffic can be at this time of day."
"That isn't surprising," muttered Lord Winchester.
"In any case," Novo said, before anyone else could comment, "let us proceed."
The bulk of the meeting was rather tedious and illustrated exactly why Ozpin preferred not to attend these sessions in person. Questions on whether or not there ought to be a freeze on rail fares, although undoubtedly important to a great many people, left him rather cold, though the fact that he never had occasion to use the trains might have had something to do with that. In any case, when he was only visible through a screen, it was easier to get on with some other work – which no one could see him doing – and trust that no one would be paying enough attention to him to realise that he wasn't paying attention. In the chamber, he had to listen, even if he wasn't very interested.
I suppose this must be how some of the students feel.
If they endure it every day, then I daresay I can manage just this once.
He was gratified that his proposal that the Council should pay for jobs to protect the threatened outlying communities, shepherded by the First Councillor, who spoke so eloquently of the need to defend the people of Vale from harm that one might almost have thought it was her idea, sailed through the Council without any opposition. At least, without any formal opposition; Lord Justice Winchester grumbled at leaving Vale undefended – General Seaspray looked a little offended at that, but held his peace – but even he voted with the majority.
And then the other matter of particular interest to Ozpin rose to the forefront of the agenda.
"The request from the Atlesian Council that we allow them to station a force of two battle squadrons and all accompanying forces in Vale until the end of the Vytal Festival," Novo said, reading off the agenda. "I know that we have the Atlesian General Ironwood waiting on the other end of the line, but before we raise him, does anyone have anything they would like to say?"
"I must confess I am concerned about what such a show of force will do to public opinion," Ozpin murmured.
"Some of us are concerned about what forces we will have left once all our huntsmen have decamped to the countryside," muttered Lord Justice Winchester. "But if they are to be replaced by the vaunted Atlesian specialists-"
"Vaunted by whom, Lord Winchester?" Ozpin asked. "I assure you that huntsmen trained at Beacon-"
"Won't be here, will they, Professor?"
"Lord Winchester, you have made your point," Novo said, with a touch of weariness in her voice. "That said, it is a valid point; for all that we have weakened our defences for good reason, we have, nevertheless, weakened our defences; we have the opportunity to make good that deficit with the arrival of our Atlesian friends."
"Plus, at least this time, they're asking for permission rather than just starting shooting over our skies," joked Leo Aquas.
"General Seaspray," Novo said, "as a military man, what is your assessment of the Atlesian forces detailed by General Ironwood in his request?"
General Seaspray was a tall man in his middle years with a shock of blue-green hair and a proud martial bearing. Dressed in the crisp green uniform of a Valish general, with brass buttons polished and gold aiguillettes looping over his shoulder, he looked the very model of a military officer. Unfortunately, Professor Ozpin couldn't recall any instance of him doing any fighting. Nevertheless, he appeared to know what he was talking about as he said, "The reputation of the Atlesian forces precedes them; they are well trained and exceedingly well-equipped, especially by comparison to our own forces."
"The necessity for balancing the budget-" Leo began defensively.
"Is well understood," Novo cut him off. "Please continue, General."
"I think it would take an awful lot to get past them," General Seaspray said.
"What if they decide to get past us?" Aspen demanded. "Can these Atlesians be trusted?"
"I have my doubts about General Ironwood's wisdom, Councillor, but not his integrity," Ozpin declared. "I guarantee this is not an attempt to seize power in Vale."
"Everything the Atlesians do is an attempt to seize power," Aspen declared.
Novo groaned. "Your paranoia about Atlas will be the death of you, Aspen."
"It isn't paranoia when they're really after you," Aspen maintained. "Ever since the Great War-"
"I'm well aware of your views on Atlas, and you are well aware of my views upon… those opinions which you hold," Novo said. "Does anyone object to our hearing General Ironwood?"
Aspen coughed into one hand.
"Anyone else?" Novo asked. "No? Professor Ozpin, do you object to our hearing the general out?"
Ozpin shook his head. "Not at all, Councillor."
"Good," Novo said. "Put General Ironwood on please," she directed the Clerk of Council sat in the corner.
A hologram of General Ironwood burst into life in the centre of the council chamber.
"General Ironwood," Novo said. "Apologies if we have kept you waiting."
"Not at all, Madame Councillor; thank you for agreeing to speak with me," General Ironwood said.
"We have reviewed your request," Novo said. "What reason do you have for wishing to come to Vale?"
"In public, this would be a goodwill visit for the Vytal Festival," General Ironwood said.
"That's a large force for a goodwill visit," Aspen muttered.
"We have a great deal of good will for our friends in Vale," General Ironwood replied with utmost sincerity and seriousness.
"And your real reason?" Leo asked.
"I think it is clear that the White Fang intend to strike a significant blow against the Kingdom of Vale," General Ironwood said. "Not only does this have the potential to impact Atlesian students and citizens at Beacon and Vale for the Vytal Festival, but it is the policy of Atlas to do whatever is necessary to assure the success of liberty and defend our allies across Remnant. I hope that my ships will serve as a deterrent, and I know that, if necessary, they can serve as an effective defence."
"Are you sure of that, General?" Ozpin asked.
Ironwood glanced his way. "Absolutely sure, Professor."
"Do you think that we aren't capable of defending ourselves?" Aspen demanded.
"Councillor, I am a soldier; I speak plainly," Ironwood said. "And plainly, Vale's inability to deal with the White Fang suggests otherwise."
Aspen scowled, but Lord Winchester murmured, "He's got a point."
"You would not, I hope, be expecting Vale to bear any expense of this visit?" Leo asked anxiously.
"No, Councillor; in fact, I guarantee that my troops will pay for everything they consume while there," Ironwood replied.
"Thank you, General; you will have our decision very soon," Novo said.
"Thank you for your time, Councillors," Ironwood said.
The hologram faded.
Aspen ground his teeth. "Cheeky-"
"I will sleep safer knowing that Vale is not undefended," Lord Winchester declared.
"I will sleep less soundly knowing that there are Atlesian ships overhead," Aspen snapped. “We are already thought to be far too dependent upon Atlesian power following that incident at the docks; if we invite more of them in, then we invite further criticism of our own weakness.”
“We’ll invite more than that if we are thought to have endangered Vale unnecessarily out of mere concern for our public image,” Lord Winchester replied.
"Gentlemen, please," Novo said. "Professor Ozpin, have you anything else to say?"
"I have never been a supporter of military power," Ozpin admitted. "I do not believe it calms nerves, quite the opposite. With respect, I need only point to Councillor Emerald and its effects on him."
Thank you,” said Aspen emphatically.
"Nevertheless, Vale must be defended," Leo said, "and without meaning to insult the Defence Forces or the Navy, without huntsmen…"
"In the best case scenario, they will spend an uneventful few months here in Vale and then go home," Novo said. "In the worst case, we may be glad of their presence. All those in favour of allowing the Atlesians to station their forces in Vale until the end of the Vytal Festival?"
Blue lights flashed in front of Novo, Leo, and Lord Winchester.
"All those against?" Novo asked.
Ozpin pushed a button in front of him. A red light flashed. Another flashed in front of Aspen Emerald.
"Carried by three votes to two," Novo announced. "Put General Ironwood back on please."
The hologram burst into life once more.
"General," Novo said. "The Council has deliberated, the Council has voted, and the Council would be delighted to host your forces in Vale over the coming months."
Ironwood bowed his head. "I look forward to it, Madame Councillor."