Atlas Will Always Be Atlas
Spring had well and truly sprung, the sky was clear, and thanks to the Atlesian heating grid, the weather was perfect for a picnic in the Park of Serenity. As Rainbow Dash and Applejack wandered through the park, they saw that their friends were not the only ones to have that idea; in fact, the park was positively festooned with blankets draped across the grass, and families and friends were busily unpacking meals from hampers and cooler boxes and such like.
Chatter and laughter filled the air, filling the park with an air of, well, serenity that not even the shadow of a warship hovering overhead could dispel.
It was as if the vessel wasn’t there at all.
“Everyone looks so happy, don’t they?” Rainbow asked.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Applejack observed.
“I don’t,” Rainbow said quickly, lest her friend get the wrong idea. “It’s just… it feels a little weird, you know? You’d think there was nothing going on.”
“Why? Because everyone’s having a picnic?” Applejack asked. “You do recall that we’re on our way to one ourselves, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” Rainbow said. “I… that’s not it, I mean… okay, maybe it is it, and we’re as guilty as everyone else, but… I don’t know, doesn’t it feel weird, everyone just-”
“Livin’ their lives?” Applejack suggested. “Ain’t that the point? Ain’t that what we’re fightin’ for? Picnics and cupcakes and apple cider and the harvest time and watchin’ the shootin’ stars with your pals and, well, livin’. If that ain’t what this is all about, then what the hell are we fightin’ for? What should all these folks be doin’ on a spring day, instead of this? What should we be doin’?”
“I don’t know, stop asking me so many questions I don’t have the answers to.”
“You’re the one who bought it up, Sugarcube,” Applejack reminded.
“I know, I know,” Rainbow said. She sighed. “I don’t know what I’m talking about. I guess… so much has happened… but at the same time, it’s like none of it happened.”
It was nearly six months now since the Battle of Vale, and in that time, a historic treaty had been signed with Menagerie, a seat on the Atlesian council had become vacant, there had been a grimm attack on Mantle, a White Fang leader had escaped from maximum security prison with the aid of a disgraced scientist who was probably working for Salem now, and Jacques Schnee had decided to run for said vacant council seat.
And Salem had obtained one of the four relics. Mustn’t forget that one.
Rainbow couldn’t work out whether the fact that – breaking Chrysalis out aside – she hadn’t made any moves against Atlas yet was a good thing or a bad thing. I mean, obviously it was a good thing that they weren’t under attack and everyone was free to enjoy their picnic without a swarm of grimm battering at the shields, but what if it meant that she was up to something and that when she did attack, it was just going to be so much worse for being so well planned?
This stuff could make your head spin so fast it would fly off. There were times when Rainbow missed the days when her biggest problem had been Penny.
Applejack pushed her hat back on her head. “Let’s be fair to all of these folks now, most of them don’t know about half of what’s been goin’ on.”
“I guess,” Rainbow muttered.
Chrysalis’ escape was a secret known to only a select few – like Twilight, on account of Chrysalis swearing revenge against her and all – with most of Atlas none the wiser. Ditto absolutely everything to do with Salem, obviously. In fact, when she thought about it some more, Rainbow realised that from the perspective of most people, the election was the only thing that was going on right now, and the only thing that had happened since the Battle of Vale was the treaty with Menagerie.
Lucky them.
“But what about the Battle of Vale?” Rainbow asked. “That must have been one of the biggest battles since the Great War; people died and-”
“And they ain’t been forgotten,” Applejack said.
“You could have fooled me,” Rainbow replied.
“That ain’t fair, Rainbow Dash,” Applejack replied sternly. “Is the whole city supposed to go around wearing black? Do they have to cry? Or should they just have to look glum enough for your likin’? Everybody grieves in their own way, at their own pace-”
“I know that, and I’m not talking about like Flynt’s folks, or Neon’s,” Rainbow replied. “I’m talking about anyone who put a photo up on These Are My Jewels. I’m talking about-”
“Us, about to have our picnic?” Applejack asked.
Rainbow sighed. “You really don’t feel it? At all?”
“Maybe if you actually talked some sense instead of letting a lot of hooey come out of your mouth, I could understand you long enough to say whether I felt it too or not,” Applejack said.
“Okay, I…” Rainbow stopped in her tracks, halting her step so she could focus on her thoughts. She wanted to get this right so that Applejack would finally understand what she was trying to say, because once Applejack understood, then maybe she could finally find out whether her friend agreed with her or not. “Does it not feel just a little bit as though we’re always having a picnic?”
Applejack was silent for a moment. She took the Stetson off her head and brushed at the brim a little. “Okay, now I think I get you. Sort of. You mean how it’s been six months, and we ain’t done nothing?”
“I know that we have to trust the General,” Rainbow said swiftly. “And I do. I’m sure that whatever he’s cooking up in his office, it’ll be something good when the time comes. But in the meantime, we’ve got most of the fleet sitting overhead, most of the troops pulled back, we’re all just taking odd missions in Mantle or Canterlot or Crystal City, and… what are we really doing? The enemy’s out there, and we’re… what are we doing?”
Applejack sighed as she put the hat back on her head. “I hear you,” she declared. “Sometimes, it feels like we’re hiding in the farmhouse with the beowolf prowling around outside, instead of getting’ our gun and goin’ out there and puttin’ it down. Only…” – her voice dropped – “you and I both know this here beowolf can’t be put down. It ain’t like we can go huntin’ somethin’ that can’t be killed.”
“So we do nothing?”
“So we fight her when she shows herself, and lick her too, just like we did at Vale,” Applejack said. “Only better, so she don’t get her hands on another one of them there relic things next time. My point is, what are we supposed to do when we don’t know what she’s up to?”
“So we’re stuck playing defence?”
“I guess, unless you got a better idea that the General ain’t come up with yet,” Applejack replied.
Rainbow scowled. “You know I don’t.”
“Then maybe try to relax a little and enjoy this picnic,” Applejack said. “Let folks smile while they still got somethin’ to smile about. And remember that half our friends don’t know squat about any of this business.”
“And they can’t know, so I should make sure they don’t have any reason to ask questions.” Rainbow faked a smile, stretching her lips out across her cheeks in a crooked, uneven fashion that stayed well south of her eyes. “How’s that?”
Applejack raised one eyebrow.
Rainbow held the uncanny expression for a moment, before she snorted, and her face collapsed into a more genuine smile. “Just kidding; I’m not that worried. You’re right: the skies are clear in every way, the enemy is a long way off; we should be free to enjoy ourselves while we can.”
“Of course I’m right,” Applejack said. “I’m always right. Which is why y’all should listen to me a darn sight more often than any of y’all do.”
“We do listen to you,” Rainbow replied. Her smile morphed into a grin. “We listen to you say ‘I told you so’ twice a week, even when you never said anything in the first place.”
“I did too say somethin’, every time!” Applejack replied heatedly, her voice rising. She hesitated. “Although… speakin’ of sayin’ somethin’… or sayin’ nothin’, I guess. Can I tell you what’s been botherin’ me a little?”
“You can tell me anything, you know that,” Rainbow said. “What’s up?”
“It’s this whole secrecy thing,” Applejack said. “Knowin’ what I know – what we know, and Twi too – knowin’ all about what’s really goin’ on, and not tellin’ Pinkie or Rarity or Fluttershy? It ain’t sittin’ right with me. Sometimes, I think it’s givin’ me a little twitch in my stomach.”
“Are you sure that’s not just indigestion?” Rainbow asked.
Applejack glared at her.
“Okay, okay, this is serious, I know,” Rainbow said. “You really want to tell them the truth? Tell them everything? You know why we can’t do that.”
“I know why we can’t do it, but that don’t mean that I can’t want to do it,” Applejack replied. “They’re our friends, and I’m keepin’ something from ‘em; we both are. All three of us are.”
“We have our orders,” Rainbow said. “We can’t tell anyone who isn’t cleared to know by General Ironwood.”
“I know, I know,” Applejack said. “Strictly on a need to know basis, and they don’t need to know. I just… don’t it eat you up inside, not bein’ able to say nothin’ to ‘em about all of this? About what’s really goin’ on?”
“No,” Rainbow said.
Applejack took a step backwards; her green eyes widened in surprise. “Well that was blunt, wasn’t it?” she asked. “Okay, that makes the next question 'why don’t it?'”
“Because they don’t need to know,” Rainbow said.
“Who decides who gets to need to know or not?” Applejack asked.
“The General does.”
“The General and the old headmaster of Beacon, Professor Ozpin, you mean,” Applejack said. “Trust me, I get why we can’t tell absolutely everyone that we’ve been keeping a secret this big since goodness only knows when, but… but that don’t make it right to keep the secret. You understand that, right?”
Rainbow folded her arms. “Maybe it would be better if everyone knew. Maybe it wouldn’t. I don’t know. But you want to know why I’m fine with not telling Fluttershy and Pinkie and Rarity all about this?”
“Sure I do, that’s why I asked you.”
“Because you know what they would do if they found out,” Rainbow replied. “You know what they’d do if we told them what we’re involved in, us and Twilight.”
Applejack was silent for a moment. “They’d go get their real huntress training so that they could pitch in right alongside us.”
Rainbow nodded. “You know that as well as I do.”
“Would that be so terrible if they did?” Blake asked.
“Gah!” Rainbow yelled, jumping backwards. “How did you do that?”
“I’ve been standing here for the last seven minutes,” Blake informed them.
Rainbow’s eyes narrowed. “You have not,” she said. “No way you were standing there and we didn’t notice you.”
Blake stared at her, saying nothing, revealing nothing.
Rainbow’s eyes narrowed yet further until they were mere slits peering out at Blake.
The corner of Blake’s lip twitched ever so slightly.
“Whether you’re that sneaky or we’re just that oblivious, howdy, partner,” Applejack said. “How’s it hanging?”
The twitching corner of Blake’s lip became a full-fledged smile. “It’s okay,” she said. “I got an interesting request this morning.”
“'Request'?” Applejack repeated. “What kind of request?”
“Principal Cinch, from Crystal Prep,” Blake replied. “She wants me to join a mission in Mantle involving some of her former students.”
“And you said no,” Rainbow said.
“I haven’t said anything yet,” Blake said.
“Then you oughtta say no right now,” Applejack said. “Trust us, you do not want to go on a mission with the Shadowbolts.”
“The who?”
“Crystal Prep Shadowbolts,” Rainbow explained. “Indigo Zap, Lemon Zest, Sour Sweet, they’ll be the ones that Cinch is talking about. You want to know how your friend Ilia turned out the way she did: stuck in a school with those jerks, that’s how.”
“I don’t like to speak ill of fellow huntresses,” Applejack said, “but those girls are nasty. I’d have a hard time turnin’ my back on ‘em, let alone working with ‘em.”
Blake’s eyebrows rose. “I’m… surprised,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t have expected you to be so… judgemental.”
“Don’t call us judgemental; it makes us sound like we’re the bad guys,” Rainbow said. “Which we’re not,” she added quickly.
“I’m just saying that Combat School was a long time ago,” Blake said. “People change. Have you ever really known them since then? Did you really know them then?”
“We know where they come from,” Rainbow muttered.
“You know where I came from too, but you still gave me a chance,” Blake reminded her. “In the end,” she added.
“That’s completely different.”
“Yes, I’d done actually terrible things that you still managed to look beyond.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Rainbow said.
“Then what did you mean?” Blake asked.
“I meant that you’re not a complete jackass!”
“Are you honestly considering this, Sugarcube?” Applejack asked. “You know that Cinch is in deep with Jacques Schnee, right?”
“And Weiss is Jacques Schnee’s daughter, but that isn’t stopping us from having a picnic with her,” Blake pointed out.
Applejack hesitated. “Well, I guess you got a point about that,” she conceded. “What’s the mission, anyway?”
“Classified, something to do with assisting the Mantle police,” Blake said. “Apparently, I’ll be briefed en route if I accept the assignment.”
“Okay,” Rainbow said. “You’ve been asked to take a mission you don’t know what, in Mantle, with the Shadowbolts.”
“Yes,” Blake said.
“And you’re considering this?”
Blake rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m considering it.”
“Why?” Rainbow demanded. “Tell Cinch no and be done with it.”
“Because for whatever reason, she was willing to reach out to me,” Blake said. “I don’t think that I ought to reward that by spitting on her hand. Aren’t we all supposed to be one team? A sorority of sisters?”
“Don’t mean we all got to like each other,” Applejack muttered.
“But it does mean that we have to work together,” Blake said. “And it’s not like General Ironwood has even endorsed a candidate; his position is non-partisan, like that of the military.”
“Publicly,” Rainbow accepted. “But everyone knows-”
“Not everyone knows that there are bigger issues at stake than this election,” Blake replied. “We can’t let this election divide huntsmen and huntresses into camps based on who voted for who or who plans to vote for who, and certainly not based on where you went to combat school.”
Applejack snorted. “Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind,” she observed.
Blake paused for a moment, before she too let out a snort in turn, “Apparently I have,” she agreed. “It seems I have a habit of making my decisions without it really sinking in.”
Rainbow scowled. “I don’t like this,” she said firmly. “I don’t like this one bit.”
“Even if they haven’t changed, I can handle a few brats,” Blake insisted. “Haven’t I faced much worse by now? Haven’t we all?”
“Nobody thinks you can’t take it, but we wouldn’t be your friends unless we wanted to spare you that, if we could,” Applejack declared.
“Hmm,” Blake murmured.
“What?” Rainbow demanded.
“I beg your pardon?”
“What was that ‘hmm’?” Rainbow insisted. “It was like you didn’t agree or something.”
Blake winced ever so slightly and reached up to scratch at her ear. “Well… I’m not saying this as a criticism, but-”
“But you’re about to criticise us anyways,” Applejack guessed.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Blake said. “You are two of the most loyal, faithful people that I have ever met, and I am honoured to call you both my friends, but… do you not ever think that maybe the two of you are a little… overprotective?”
Rainbow and Applejack looked at one another.
“'Overprotective'?” Applejack repeated in disbelief. “We ain’t overprotective!”
Blake raised her eyebrows. “Neither of you want me to go on a mission with the Shadowbolts, apparently because you’re afraid they’ll bully me, and I just heard you” – she pointed at Rainbow Dash – “talking about how it’s okay to lie to your friends because otherwise they might want to step up and do their part to help protect the world.”
“You think that we ought to tell them?” Rainbow asked. “Pinkie and Rarity and Fluttershy?”
“I didn’t say that, and it’s not our call to make,” Blake answered swiftly. “But I think that you ought to feel less at ease about it than you do and not have those reasons for it.”
“What’s wrong with my reasons?” squawked Rainbow Dash.
“What’s wrong with your friends standing alongside you?” Blake shot back.
“It’s dangerous!” Rainbow cried. “You know that. You both know that. It’s dangerous work, and not everyone is cut out for it.”
“I’m not sure that I know that,” Blake murmured.
Rainbow frowned. “Now I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Jaune,” Blake said. “Someone who had no skills, no training, no natural aptitude for the work or life of a huntsman; if there was any congenital talent passed down through his bloodline, it had completely failed to manifest in him, and yet, he became not only a reasonable huntsman in his own right but also an integral member of the best freshman team at Beacon, maybe the best team period. Surely, he stands as living proof that-”
“Anyone can be a hero?” Rainbow guessed.
“That you don’t need to be a hero to do your part,” Blake finished. “All you need is courage and commitment.”
“And an insane amount of aura and Pyrrha Nikos watching your back, two things Jaune had which no one else does,” Rainbow retorted. “Take those things away, and then tell me how Jaune would have done.”
“My point is that your friends are starting from a better position than he was, so why are you so-”
“Because I don’t want them to die, isn’t that enough?” Rainbow demanded.
“Who are you to say whether they can or cannot put their lives on the line for a cause, if they think it warrants it?” Blake said, her voice rising.
“If they wanted it that bad, they’d have done it already,” Applejack interjected. “You really think that we could have stopped ‘em if their minds were really set on it?” She chuckled. “Sugarcube, you still got a lot to learn about us if you think that we can make Rarity or Fluttershy or even Pinkie Pie do anythin’. What we did, what we said… it was just givin’ ‘em a nudge in the direction their hearts always wanted to go in anyways, so that they could walk down that road without feeling guilty about it.”
Blake’s brow furrowed. She regarded Applejack keenly, and when she spoke again, her voice carried a note of scepticism about it. “And now? What about Rarity training with Weiss?”
“The fact that we ain’t put a stop to that kinda disproves your whole point, don’t you think?” Applejack suggested.
Blake was silent for a moment. “Possibly,” she conceded. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you would stop it, if you could, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” Rainbow said without missing a beat.
Applejack smiled wistfully and shook her head a little as though there were something strange about Rainbow’s response or how quick she’d been to offer it.
“Why not?” Blake asked.
“Because it’s not what they want,” Rainbow said quietly.
“I suppose it isn’t,” Blake agreed. She looked back at Applejack, “But it’s not what you want either, is it?”
Applejack shrugged. “Not really, no.”
“Then what’s the difference?”
“Because someone has to do it,” Applejack said. “And if you take everyone off the line who didn’t love the fighting, you’d end up with… well,” she jerked her thumb towards Rainbow Dash. “But how about I ask you the question for a change?”
“Go ahead,” Blake responded.
“Why do you want them to fight so much?”
“I don’t,” Blake said. “I just want them to be able to make their own choices-”
“They have,” Rainbow pointed out.
“Perhaps,” Blake acknowledged. She paused. “And I suppose… with everything that’s going on, don’t we need as many people as possible in the fight? Don’t we need everyone in the fight, if possible?”
“If everyone fights, what are they fighting for?” Rainbow asked.
“Life?” Blake suggested. “I know that doesn’t seem like such a good answer, but these aren’t normal times. If Salem gains the relics, then what good are dresses or cupcakes going to be?”
“What good are they ever?” Rainbow replied. She hesitated. “Don’t tell Pinkie or Rarity I said that, will you?”
Blake smirked. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Rainbow Dash! Applejack! Oh, hey, Blake!”
“Pinkie!” Rainbow cried, turning to see their friend bounding towards them across the park.
Pinkie beamed, leaping through the air towards Rainbow with arms outstretched and a cry of, “Whee!”
Rainbow caught her with both hands, but that wasn’t enough to stop her from being bowled over by the force of Pinkie’s impact, knocked flat on her back onto the ground with Pinkie on top of her. She smiled. “Hi, Pinkie.”
Pinkie giggled. “Hey, Rainbow Dash.” She leapt up, backflipping to stand on her hands and head for a moment before performing a second backflip to put herself back up on her feet, arms spread out on either side of her. “Hey, girls.”
“Hello, Pinkie,” Blake said. “How are things?”
“Things,” Pinkie said. “Are getting cold while we wait for you three!” She swept her finger imperiously across the group. “Everyone else is already waiting for you!”
“Sorry, Pinkie,” Rainbow said as she picked herself up off the floor. “We just got… caught up in talking about some stuff.”
“Ooh, what kind of things?” Pinkie asked.
“It doesn’t-” Rainbow began.
“Pinkie,” Blake interrupted. “Do you ever think about maybe using your combat school training? Do you ever think about becoming a huntress?”
Rainbow sucked in a sharp intake of breath. The worst part was that she couldn’t even say anything right now because she’d already told Blake that Pinkie and the others were free to make their own choices without interference. That made it very difficult to interfere.
Even if she kind of wanted to.
She was not overprotective. She was at a perfectly reasonable level of protectiveness towards people who, for all that they were the best people she knew, needed a little protection. And there was nothing wrong with that! Not everyone had to be an awesome badass, Blake! Some people were sweet and funny and should not be asked to fight monsters.
Rainbow bit her lip, to keep herself from saying so.
“Hmm,” Pinkie mused, cupping her chin with one hand. “Eh… no. I can’t say that I have.”
Blake blinked. “No. You’ve never even considered?”
“Not really.”
“Then what did you go to combat school for?”
“It felt like a good idea at the time,” Pinkie replied. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Not at all, Sugarcube,” Applejack assured. “Blake’s just still got a few things to learn about the lay of the land here in Atlas.”
“It’s not that,” Blake said firmly. “Or… maybe it is. It’s just that, with the monsters at the gates, when we live in islands of light while outside it grows dark, don’t you think-?”
“That there are more important things than cupcakes and parties?” Pinkie asked. “Or that there should be?”
Blake looked a little ashamed, bowing her head as she said, “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
Pinkie giggled, as though she found the very idea that Blake could insult her to be funny. She was still laughing lightly as she put one around Blake’s neck and the other around Rainbow Dash and swiftly drew them both in with a grip that was firm if not quite tight.
Okay, it was a little tight, but Rainbow wasn’t going to tell Pinkie.
She probably wouldn’t have listened anyway.
“Come on, girls,” she said, pushing them inexorably onwards while Applejack walked by their side. “Let’s not keep everyone waiting, huh? Better hurry before it all gets cold.”
“Isn’t picnic food already cold?” Blake pointed out.
“Most of it,” Pinkie accepted. “But the tea isn’t.”
“Ah, of course,” Blake murmured.
Pinkie led them through the park, to where their friends were gathered around a chequered red and white blanket. Pinkie was right; they were the last to arrive: Rarity, wearing some sort of silver-white gown that spread out all around her, with a broad-brimmed hat with a lavender bow tied around it, took up one corner of the blanket all by herself; Twilight and Weiss sat side by side, while Fluttershy sat across from Rarity. One of the advantages of the election and the fact Cinch was backing Jacques Schnee was that Sugarcoat had been removed from Twilight's guard detail; now, the members of Team TSSM rotated through protecting her in case Chrysalis came back and tried anything, and today, it was Starlight Glimmer who cast a welcome shadow over the group as she stood behind Twilight.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather sit down?" Twilight urged.
"I'm not here as your friend, Twilight, but as your protector," Starlight replied. "My orders are to guard you, not to join in your fun."
Twilight pouted. "Will you at least eat something? Even if you do look ridiculous, at least we won't have to feel quite so guilty about you missing out."
Starlight hesitated. "I don't know…"
"If you mimic my semblance, you won't even have to use your hands," Twilight pointed out, holding out her hand in turn.
Starlight smiled. "Alright then," she agreed, taking Twilight's hand. There was a ripple of turquoise light across Starlight's palm and up her wrist before she released Twilight from her grasp. "Thanks, Twilight," she added as she levitated an angel cake up towards her waiting mouth with telekinesis.
Rarity, meanwhile, was the first to spot the four girls coming. "Darlings, there you are!" she cried. "We were all wondering what in Atlas could have become of you. You know it's terribly bad manners to keep friends waiting like that. And not even a call to say what was holding you up."
Rainbow scratched the back of her head in embarrassment. "Sorry, Rarity, we just got to… I guess we-"
"Blake wanted to know if I'd ever thought about becoming a huntress!" Pinkie proclaimed, as she leapt down onto the ground beside Fluttershy. One hand whipped out to grab a doughnut, which disappeared whole into Pinkie's gaping maw.
Twilight pushed her spectacles up her nose. "Why would you ask something like that?"
"I don't think it's an unreasonable question," Weiss said. "Obviously, not everybody has to become a huntress, but you did all attend combat school."
"I know that you all had your reasons for doing so," Blake said, as she sat down at the north edge of the picnic blanket. "I just wondered if, in the current circumstances, you thought that things had changed since you made your initial plans."
"Obviously, I have come to that conclusion," Rarity drawled, raising a china teacup to her lips and taking a dainty sip from it. "But then, my reasons were always the most shallow of any of us here."
"Nobody here thinks that you're shallow, Rarity," Twilight said.
"Goodness, Twilight, I didn't say that I was shallow!" Rarity exclaimed. "Heavens no! I said it was my reasons for going to Canterlot that were shallow: the idea that it would make me more impressive at soirées and dinner parties if I could say 'oh, yes, I went to combat school, you know; I fight with a rapier, in the main – classically trained, of course – although I also have some skill with a bow.'" She chuckled. "Seems rather silly now, I must say."
"It… isn't the reason most people go to combat school," Rainbow conceded. "But that doesn't make it wrong. And it is pretty cool to know how to defend yourself, but-" She caught Blake looking at her, and thus refrained from adding that, in her opinion, that didn't mean there was anything wrong with hoping that you never had to do it.
"But… but go on," she concluded feebly.
Rarity smiled. "Very kind of you, dear, but with the world as it is, with so many brave souls having made… the ultimate sacrifice… I don't know if I can justify having swindled the kingdom out of the cost of my training like that any more." She glanced at Applejack. "And to be frank, darling, I'm not sure how I could look Apple Bloom in the eye again if you perished in some dark forsaken place defending us all and I wasn't doing my part as well. To which you may well ask, Blake, how come this never occurred to me before, and I'm afraid all I can say in reply is that after all that beastliness in Vale, the world seems a much more violent place than it did before, and much more in need of protection."
"Oh, I don't know," Fluttershy whispered. "I mean, what happened in Vale was awful, but it doesn't change the fact that humanity is a bigger threat to the habitats of a lot of living creatures than the grimm are. We can't be so selfish as to only think about our own survival; we have to continue caring for all the other living things as well. And besides, I'm not sure that I could bring myself to kill anybody or anything, not even something that everyone called a monster. I don't think someone with that kind of attitude would be a very good huntress."
Pinkie frowned. "Do you guys really think that things are that bad?"
"Don't you?" Weiss asked. "The CCT is still down; the news from Vale and Mistral, garbled as it is, isn't good… I couldn't tell you why it's decided to happen now, but it feels like the era of peace has come to an end." She smiled. "Or perhaps I'm just a little jealous of you, Rarity, getting the chance to play your part."
"I get that some rough stuff has happened," Pinkie said. "But things will work out. They always do, right?"
"Because Atlas will always be Atlas?" Weiss asked.
"Weiss?" Twilight asked.
"Just something that I've heard a couple of times today," Weiss replied. "It would be very comforting to believe it, but… I'm not sure that I do."
"I do," Rainbow said.
"Oh, really?" Blake said. "Didn't I hear you complaining that there wasn't enough being done?"
"How long were you standing there without saying anything?" Rainbow demanded.
"Seven minutes, like I said," replied Blake, in a casual tone.
"Okay, yes, I would like to be doing something, and I don't like feeling that we're sitting up here on a cloud just waiting with our eyes closed while… while who knows what is going on down below. But I don't think it will last. We're going to build a new tower on Menagerie and get the network up and running, and General Ironwood is going to come up with a plan, and we're going to come back, and we're going to kick ass twice as hard because Atlas will always be Atlas, and that means that we'll always bring the fight anywhere we have to."
Weiss smiled slightly, and a little sadly too, weirdly enough. "I wish I shared your confidence," she murmured.
"Why don't you share my confidence?" Rainbow asked.
"Who does?" Starlight interjected, a playful smile on her face.
Rainbow chuckled. "Good point."
Weiss shook her head. "I can't be the only person who feels that… we can be dangerously complacent in this kingdom. Yes, we have a lot of advantages, we have martial might and superior technology, but I'm sure that people in Vale thought that Vale would always be Vale too."
"We're not Vale," Rainbow insisted.
"But that doesn't mean Weiss doesn't have a point," Blake murmured.
Weiss' eyebrows rose. "Are you admitting that Atlas might be flawed? Twilight, start recording this!"
A chagrined expression blossomed upon Blake's face. "I stand by my decision to come here and serve in the Atlas military; I still admire it as much as I came to do back at Beacon, and I stand by everything that I've said in praise of it. But Weiss, Twilight, when we were at that party after the concert, when Weiss's father announced that he was running for Council… there were so many people in that room… it was as if they were blind to the world beyond the drop-off, as if they're trapped in a bubble, knowing nothing and caring less about the rest of Remnant. As if they were set apart from the rest of Remnant, protected from the problems that afflict other kingdoms but have nothing to do with them."
"Of course they think that, they're rich," Weiss said. "That's what being rich means: that you can ignore the problems the other people have to deal with because they don't affect you. You can breeze through life in a vast carelessness, and you don't even have to look down." She sighed. "But, yes, Blake, you're right: there is a lot of complacency in some parts of Atlas, even in some people that I love very much."
"It could be worse," Starlight opined. "They could be living in perpetual terror and be right to do so. Surely, a little complacency – and the genuine safety on which that complacency rests – is better than the alternative?"
"I'm sure you're right," Weiss accepted. "I suppose, when you feel as if you're standing under a snow-covered glacier with nobody else around, you can even consider that there might be an avalanche… it's sometimes hard to remember that that's, on the whole, a good thing." She paused. "And maybe you're right. Maybe Atlas will always be Atlas. I suppose that, as much as I might complain, I hope you are right… because the alternative is almost too terrible to contemplate."
General Ironwood stood in his office, looking out of the window across the city. From this lofty place, he could, if he looked down, see the bustling city that seemed so far away below him, while if he looked up, he could see his airships filling the skies over Atlas, from the stately cruisers which hovered in place to the nimbler fighters and transports that gambolled between them.
His fleet. His forces. The finest instrument of war ever fashioned in the history of Remnant.
Not enough.
Ironwoood clasped his hands more tightly behind him. The Battle of Vale was acclaimed a victory, his victory. A triumph to rank alongside Ozpin's Stand, an achievement to take its place in the annals of the Atlesian forces. And yet, it did not elate him.
His troops deserved all the praise they had received and more. They had fought a great fight and vindicated every ounce of Ironwood's faith in their courage and constancy. Salem had come at them with the worst of Qrow's dire predictions, and his gallant girls and boys had shocked her, just as Soleil had promised they would. The children who had survived a baptism of fire far crueler than they deserved were entitled to rest upon their laurels, to brag and boast, to account themselves the masters of the field and the victors of the day.
And yet…
And yet, Ironwood could not share in their elation, though he would not begrudge them it. For himself, the cost hung heavier in his mind than the triumph did: Beacon Tower destroyed and with it, the CCT network; Ozpin dead; to say nothing of the losses in men and materiel. Another victory like that would be the ruin of them.
They had saved Vale, true. That fact alone justified the sacrifices made to achieve it, but… but nevertheless, he was haunted by the cost.
Ironwood was convinced that the only thing that could have felt worse than winning the Battle of Vale did would have been to lose it.
And it had been close, damned close, too close by half. If Penny hadn't been able to kill the dragon, then nothing else would have. It had already shrugged off the best shots of his ships and fighters without injury. Without Penny, it would have been free to rampage through his forces, smash his fleet, slaughter his troops, spread grimm and terror across Vale with impunity, make its roost in the ruins of the Emerald Tower and still be there today for all that could be done to dislodge it. The very fact that Penny had been all that stood between them and disaster, and that without her, all the rest of their valour and resolve would have come to nought… it chilled him.
And now, he was blind. Until the new tower in Menagerie was up and running, communications with Vale and Mistral were limited to sending messengers, as had been done in the old days before the CCT, and no messengers had come from either kingdom, while what news flowed in through informal sources was both garbled and not good. Meanwhile, if Ironwood wanted to issue orders to Cordovin at Argus, that now involved sending Winter Schnee to Argus by airship to deliver Cordovin a letter, while Ironwood had to wait for Winter to return before he got confirmation that Cordovin had received said letter and followed his order.
It was for that reason that Ironwood was keeping all his strength bar the Argus garrison at home in Solitas; at least there, he could actually talk to his captains and field commanders.
But at the same time, it had left Atlas powerless to influence events going on in the rest of Remnant. Ironwood would have been powerless to influence them in any event, without communications, but for the sake of control, he had turned Atlas into a kind of turtle huddling inside its shell, or a hedgehog curled up into a ball.
It was the best decision of the unenviable choices open to him with the CCT down, but that didn't mean it was a good choice.
He had no idea what Salem was doing out there, no idea what evil she was brewing in the world while he stood here, blind and impotent, waiting for… for what?
For something he could not put a name to. Something he might not even recognise when it arrived. Something that would, if not change the game, at the very least show him a way forward.
He was building up his forces, but to what end? Newer and more powerful ships were being laid down in the yards, but where would he send them once they were complete? He had fine men and women under his command, but what was he supposed to do with them?
How was he supposed to make decisions when he didn't know what was going on?
And so he waited.
And so they waited, huddled around the light while the darkness set in around them, waiting… for what? What was he waiting for? What was he hoping would turn up? For the CCT? For information? Or was he simply hoping that something would show up to point the way forward?
The beeping sound from his desk indicated an incoming message.
Ironwood turned away, from the window and from his musings both alike, and returned to his desk. "This is Ironwood."
"General, this is Air Traffic Control; we've picked up a small airship on approach. They claim to be carrying an envoy from the Mistral Council; they're requesting clearance to land."
An envoy from Mistral? Now? Could it be? Who would claim something like that when it wasn't true? "Clear them to land. Inform me of their assigned docking bay."
"Yes sir." The other end of the line went quiet for a moment. "They've been ordered to proceed to bay Omega Twelve, sir."
"Understood. Good work. Ironwood out." Ironwood cut off the line before he began to walk towards the door. He didn't know who was waiting on that airship or why they had come, but he knew that there was at least a chance that this was what he had been waiting for, a chance to get things moving.
Maybe, finally, they could start to move.