Cinder hummed happily to herself as she rode the elevator up to floor nine of Epsilon Heights. Two years ago, this metal box that moved would have terrified her. But now…now she was brave enough to take it all by herself!

And soon, she'd be off to school. Dad had taken her to go and get her uniform earlier that day, and they would go and get her school supplies tomorrow. School, or rather the idea of School, excited her. True, the thought of not seeing everyone at the archives everyday Dad was at work was sad, but soon she'd be making them all proud, just like she promised them.

She'd be going to Oakwood Elementary School, a nice school according to Dad. One that she could fulfil her potential at. She had seen the smile on Dad's face when he had called the school up to have her name changed on the school's files.

Cinder Schwartz.

That was her name now. Not Cinder Fall. Mama hadn't wanted her, and she didn't even remember Papa...but Dad wanted her. He had made her family, chosen to make her family. That was an important thing here in Atlas! And she was Atlesian now! That had been a nice surprise when both she and Dad had realised.

Her name was Cinder Schwartz and she was Atlesian.

A family. A home. A nationality. All things that Dad had given her. A future. Something he had ensured she'd actually have..

She sniffled a little. There was no way to pay all of that back, was there?

She was brought out of her thoughts by the elevator announcing its arrival at the ninth floor with a ding! The doors slid open, and Dad was standing there, smiling. And that smile banished away all of her sad thoughts. He offered her a hand, and she all but skipped over to take hold of it. And together, they made their way home.

She knew of a word that summed up everything she was feeling. But it seemed too simple to describe something so big. So important. Maybe it was one of those words that had different meanings when someone was big.

Belonging.

___________________________________________________________________________

Atlesian Fleet Vessels, as a rule, used a single word as their name. AFV Justice, AFV Duty, AFV Dauntless, that sort of thing. The sole exception to this was of course the Flagship of the Airfleet, AFV Pride of Solitas.

The AFV Sentinel was the personal and, if he was being honest, the preferred Airship of Captain Albus Hawthorn. Whilst, as the Senior of the two Airfleet Captain, it was his right (and some might say, duty) to command from the Flagship, the Sentinel had been his for as long as he had had a command role, before he had even met Ozpin and joined the Inner Circle. He knew the crew and they knew him. He trusted them and was trusted in return. It was on the Sentinel that he first met a tough-as-nails Private, sixteen years old, fresh out of the foster system and living in the backseat of a car that was older than he was. The day that he had met James Ironwood, Albus knew that he would be his successor. He had sponsored Ironwood's rise through the military, and his entry onto the Board of Captains. In all honesty, prior to the Paladin Incident, Albus was going to introduce James to Ozpin after this current mission.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Now that same formerly young man was in hospital, down an arm and a leg, with Brother's only knew what sort of internal damage. And somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, Albus was trying to decide who he'd replace James with, if it came to it. He hoped and prayed for his recovery, of course, but the years he'd worked for Ozpin had made him more pessimistic than he'd like.

He schooled his expression into one of cool, commanding certainty as he strode into the main briefing room. There was a large screen at the far end, and a long table with chairs in its centre. Twenty sets of eyes fell on him as he strode to the front of the room. He gave a nod, and the soldiers took their seats.

"...Thank you all for coming so promptly." He said quietly. "My apologies for my lateness."

There was a murmuring of acknowledgement that went around the room. Albus picked up a remote from the central table, and began to press buttons. The man that appeared on screen had dark hair flecked with grey, dressed in desert-going gear. The picture was quite obviously several years old, and taken either in haste, or from a distance.

"Marcus Black is presently eighth on the International Anti-crime Initiative's most wanted criminals. In fact, the only people above him are known to be guilty of violating the Vytal Peace Accords, that means the heads of the big criminal organisations and terrorist and insurrectionist groups for those unaware. He is a mercenary, wanted for at least three dozen assassinations and terrorist attacks in all four Kingdoms and Menagerie. The total body count for those attacks is just shy of five hundred."

He let the number hang in the air for a few moments, letting it stick in the soldiers minds. Shock and disgust formed on their faces, soon giving way to fury. "His semblance is that he can steal the semblances of others. So those of you that have your semblances discovered and active, you are not to use them unless absolutely necessary. His semblance can only steal yours if you are actually using it, and we'd prefer to avoid anyone having their soul ripped apart today."

"By order of General Sleet, lethal force is authorised." He continued. "We are not expecting to be able to take him alive, but we would prefer to take his son alive. Mercury Black is, according to our records, seven years old at the most. It is the opinion of the Greys, as well as myself and Captain Ironwood, that he can be salvaged….and I doubt anyone here wants the death of a child on their conscience."

There was a round of muttered agreement, and Albus let out a sigh. It would be so much simpler if they could just carpet bomb the area Black was in to naught but ash upon the wind. But the presence of Mercury Black changed things. It required a ground presence, and required him to put soldiers in danger.

Such was life, he supposed. It was necessary. Marcus Black couldn't be allowed to join up with Salem, and even if Ozpin was wrong about that, he wouldn't be sorry a man like him was dead.

"Alright then," He said at last. "Let's get this done."

Operation Gallows was a go.