Sienna Khan dug her nails into her arm, and bit her lip hard enough that her mouth was soon filled with the taste of copper.

This. This is what she had been telling Ghira for years.

Peaceful protest, whilst noble, simply didn't work in the world in which they lived. True, they had gained a smattering of minor victories in Vacuo and Vale in recent years. But Vale still barred Faunus from taking more than one seat on their ruling Council and Vacuo was..well, Vacuo. What was tolerated and what was not practically changed with every gang war.

At least Atlas and Mistral didn't fake that they wanted Faunus to be equal.

And If she was honest, Sienna held no hope whatsoever that Faunus would ever be equal in Mistral. The old Mistralli Empire had been built upon Faunus slave labor, and in some prefectures of the Kingdom that replaced it, there had been numerous cases where the murderers of Faunus had gone free with the simple defense of "They were Faunus", some had even received apologies from the State for wasting their time over a 'non-issue'. One of the more isolated prefectures to its North-East had even been caught openly allowing 'Faunus Hunting' some forty years after the VPA had been implemented, mocking the very idea of equality.

Atlas, on the other hand….

Part of her, the ever fading remains of the girl she once was, the one that had toiled in the mines and made her home in the dank alleyways of Mantle with the other orphans and street kids smart enough to avoid the foster system..hoped that they would be. Whether that was down to a sense of loyalty to the place of her birth, or the hope in what Atlas promised it was, Sienna couldn't tell.

But this?

One of the two Captain's of Civilian Security, the man that routinely called their protests 'target practice', the man that was described as 'racist even by Atlesian standards', the man that came within a hair's breadth of becoming head of their military..trying to frame them for an attack on Vytal? To hijack the airship that bore the name of their nation's founder and mother to do it?!

Unacceptable. Unthinkable. Unconscionable.

And yet Ghira still thought, still believed to the very core of his being, that they could gain their equality with marching and boycotts and peaceful means. And she had trusted him. Because he was her friend.

But friendship could only go so far..

"You know that this cannot stand, Ghira." She said quietly, so that only he could hear her. "We cannot just let this go. Atlas cannot be allowed to sweep this under the rug.." The 'as usual' went unspoken.

"It is not fair to judge a Kingdom on the actions of a few bad apples, Sienna." He placed what was likely intended to be a calming hand upon her shoulder. "Have a little faith."

"But it isn't!" Sienna hissed. "It isn't just a few bad apples Ghira. It's their whole damn system. The mere fact that someone like this Stirling can rise so high in their Military, and come within a handful of votes from winning the Generalship of their whole military without anyone publicly raising the alarm about his opinions and worldview should be evidence that your 'peaceful solution' is little better than doing sweet fuck all!"

"Sienna.."

"..We were promised equality seventy-three years ago!" She exclaimed, cutting him off and drawing a few looks from the Atlesians, but she didn't care. Years of frustration and anger that had been so diligently stamped down and hidden away in the darker parts of her mind came flooding out at long last, and she had no desire to stop it, no matter how much attention it was drawing to her. "The four Kingdoms guaranteed it in the Vytal Peace Accords! And yet here we stand! Still marching for our Equality. Still protesting for our Equality. Still mistreated for wanting our Equality. Still beaten and stabbed and shot at for wanting our Equality. Still suffering due to a lack of our Equality. Nearly three quarters of a century after we shouldn't have needed to keep fighting for it…we still fucking are!"

"Enough!" Ghira Belladonna snarled, slipping into his authoritarian voice as easily. "Enough. You may be one of my oldest and dearest friends, Sienna. But please, do not make me pull rank on you. The non-violent route might take longer, but it is the right way to achieve our dream. Buying our equality with the blood of the innocent is not something I want to have to explain to our grandchildren."

Sienna stared at him in blatant disbelief, before shaking her head.

"...But they'd have their equality, rather than the responsibility of still needing to gain it for their grandchildren. But I am certain they'd be comforted by the fact that you ensured our fight would be 'fought according to the rules'." She gave a mocking bow, before stalking off to the main bridge windows to watch what was about to unfold. "Think on that, my friend."

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

She had some thinking of her own to do.

_____________________________

I did not know what I was doing here.

True, I was tapping away at my scroll, documenting everything that was being said and what was being done, just as I had been ordered to. But this was entirely too close to politics than I was comfortable with.

Not just politics. But Politics, with a capital P. International Politics.

From what I could understand, the Vytal International Facility was just off the bay area on the northern coast and contained several global organizations, ranging from the International Criminal Court to the Central Bank on Vytal. The memorial for the Great War was also there, along with various diplomatic offices and the old stadium that hosted the first few Vytal Festivals. There was even a resort on the south coast.

And all of that trivia was utterly worthless at this point in time. So I allowed the various conversations taking place around me to fill my ears, and was soon drawn to the one that General Hawthorn was engaged in.

"There are still members of the Menagerian delegation aboard." One of the crew pointed out. "A dozen of them."

"And how many will die if that ship starts bombing Vytal?" Hawthorn fired back. "Absinthe might have given them a warning, but I very much doubt that the various organizations that call that island home will be able to evacuate to the deep forests. A dozen lives against dozens of lives is not a difficult choice at the end of the day."

And wasn't that a harsh truth.

"I suppose it's a good thing that Stirling didn't become General, elsewise this could have been so much worse." It took me a few seconds to realize that I had been the one to speak. A few people turned to look at me, and I cleared my throat and addressed General Hawthorn. "In other words, this is not on you, Sir."

The man let out a sigh, and looked me dead in the eyes. "That is kind of you to say, Archivist. But at the end of the day…all of this is unfolding on my watch. This infiltration happened on my watch. This mutiny is happening on my watch. Even if by some miracle the Council didn't care, the International Community almost certainly will. I could quite easily stay in my position by force, it is true. But given the methods required to do so, I would likely be held to the same level as Warwick Campbell and Cognus Gelé. Solitas has already had two arch-traitors in the last two centuries and it is already on track for a third with Draco Stirling. I'd rather not make it four." He smiled a thin, tired smile before continuing. "I have had a fine and respectable career. It would be better to depart with some dignity than none at all. And if my….discharge, honorable or not, means protecting my loyal subordinates from at least some of the blowback, then so be it."

That…I could understand. From what little I actually know of the man beneath the rank (which admittedly isn't much.), he was a career soldier, not a career politician. If protecting his men meant sacrificing his career, he'd do it without any hesitation.

"..Understood sir." Because there was little else I could say. "..Thank you."

"General?" One of the navigators spoke up. "We are approaching the Island of Vytal. We have just under three minutes before the MV Audumla will be over the Vytal Facility."

Hawthorn let out a sigh, and gave a nod of acknowledgement. "...Representative Belladonna, I am afraid we are all but out of time. If we don't act now, it will be too late. I must ask permission to shoot down your vessel."

Ghira Belladonna…did not answer.

"Representative?" Hawthorn asked again.

"Just fire already General." It had been Sienna Khan that answered, without removing her gaze from the frontmost windows. "Ghira will never be able to make that call…he evidently lacks the strength to make the necessary decisions."

Our crew looked at one another for a few moments, before the General broke the silence.

"...We have authorization then." He intoned, and I watched as Ghira Belladonna's heart visibly sank. "...Gunners, on my mark."

Silence reigned for a ten second eternity, before General Albus Hawthorn spoke the three words that would end his career.

"Shoot it down."