As he watched an airship come into land within Atlesian Military Headquarters, the only thought in Albus Hawthorn’s head was of endings. It was his second-to-last day in his role as General of the Atlesian Military, and he was spending it on what was an unofficial duty. His paperwork was done, his records accounted for, most of his goodbyes had been said and his clearance codes were now officially on a timer.
His only responsibilities left were to his other allegiance, the Inner Circle Sanctuary. Whilst he would stay on as an advisor and wealth of knowledge for the Inner Circle, just as his colleague Fiona Moss had, he did need a replacement within the Military so that the ICS had eyes and ears within it. To that end, he’d been grooming his protegé for this for quite some time. James Ironwood would bring fresh eyes and fresh ideas to the group, and things would continue on as ever.
He let out a sigh, and watched as a lone figure approached, cane in hand.
“Albus.” Ozpin inclined his head as he arrived, and extended a hand. “It is good to see you my friend, even under such unfortunate circumstances.”
“Oliver, thank you for coming all this way.” He greeted the Headmaster of Beacon as he clasped the man’s hand. “...I am sorry for all this. But with my retirement, our schedule needs to be moved up.”
“It is no trouble.” Ozpin told him. “It gets me out and about. And I’d like to meet this replacement of yours face-to-face.”
The two men proceeded to make their way to Hawthorn’s office, engaging in a laid back, but nonetheless private conversation along the way. They chatted out how things were in their respective Kingdoms, how the members of the Inner Circle were, and even if there was any news on her movements. Then Hawthorn inquired as to who was running the show back in Beacon if its Headmaster was here in Atlas..
“I left my new deputy in charge.” Ozpin replied. “It is a weekend, and provided I am back before our weekly meeting on Monday, the Council will not care to ask questions.”
Hawthorn let out a laugh. “Ah, that’d be your Glynda. A talented huntress, I heard. Part of Team FGNS too, yes? What kind of name is ‘Fuliginous’ anyway?”
“You try and find a workable name with those letters.” Ozpin retorted goodnaturedly. “But yes. Glynda is indeed talented, plus loyal and intelligent. A good guide for my students.”
“Is she one of ours?”
“She is. Both Her and Shion Zaiden were recruited from that Team. Falkirk and Nessie proved too mercenary for…this side of things.” Ozpin didn’t elaborate further, so Hawthorn didn’t press. “What of your secret project?”
“It’s still in operation. I’ll be handing the reins of it over to James tomorrow upon his promotion.” The election for the Generalship hadn’t actually taken place yet, but the outcome had already been decided. Half of the Captains had stated their intention to vote for him before they retired, and half of the remainder had stated their intent to abstain. It wasn’t going to be unanimous, but it was the required majority. “He’ll have a lot on his plate, depending on what Headmistress Arnold does.”
“Is there any news on Absinthe?” Ozpin asked. “I haven’t heard anything from her. Do you think she would be willing to stay?”
Hawthorn shook his head. “I very much doubt it. She’s been in her position for five years, Oliver. In that time she’s faced an assassination attempt due to who her husband is, the Paladin Incident, all this bullshit with Stirling..not to mention everything she’s done for us. And she’s only now learning about Sanctuary? We’re not only recruiting James Ironwood today but giving him full disclosure as well, but it took her half a decade to get that.”
“..I see. It was an error on my part to push her as far as I did.” “It seems that my caution turned to paranoia in this instance. Pity.”
“I believe I can convince her to stay on as Headmistress through next year, and end her tenure on a high with a Vytal Festival at home. Beyond that, I cannot guarantee anything.” Hawthorn told him. “Aside from the fact she’ll keep our secrets, of course.”
“That will suffice for me then.”
The pair remained silent as they approached Hawthorn’s office. Ironwood was already there, and standing at ease by the door. He saluted as he saw the both of them approach.
“...Sir.”
“Captain. Thank you for coming.” Hawthorn spoke as he ushered the other men inside. “In case you’ve not met yet, this is Oliver Ozpin. He’s the Headmaster of Beacon Academy, and an old friend of mine.”
Dutiful as ever, Ironwood first saluted, and then extended a hand to him. “I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure.”
“...James Ironwood.” Ozpin smiled his genial smile and shook Ironwood’s hand. “It is good to meet you. We have things to discuss.”
Ironwood glanced at Hawthorn, who merely gave a nod. The younger man turned to Ozpin, an expectant look on his face. “I’m listening, sir.”
“First things first though.” Ozpin smiled. “I have an odd question for you..”
“...What’s your favorite Fairy Tale?”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
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The SDC Headquarters was the second tallest building in the Kingdom of Atlas, and the tallest if one barred both governmental and military facilities. It was designed by a team of the finest architects Remnant had, and it had taken a decade to build. A shining tower of glass overlooking the rest of the city.
The Director’s Suite was located near the top floor. A single long table occupied the middle of the room, made of expensive blackwood from the mountain ranges of north Mistral. With nine chairs of a deep royal blue emblazoned with the white snowflake sigil of the Schnee family on their headrests surrounding it, the furniture in the room alone was likely worth more than most people made in a decade.
Jacques Schnee, the CEO of Schnee Dust Company & Affiliated Holdings and rumored to be Remnant’s richest man, calmly sat at the head of the table and drank his coffee. The eight branch Director’s were arguing and shouting at each other, and his ire was steadily growing with each passing minute. None of them liked a problem they couldn’t throw lien at to solve, although most of them were usually smart enough to find a legal way around it.
Clark was the only person in the room not sitting down, and was the only person in the room that had his complete trust. The only person in the world that had his complete trust. True, the presence of a Faunus in such a position garnered some sneering from the Old Money Families, but Jacques didn’t care. If he needed something done, regardless of legality or difficulty or morality and without questions…Clark was there.
And so he let the argument wash over him and fill his ears. Whilst he would never let it show on his face, Jacques enjoyed picking apart the arguments of the various Directors.
“-should protest this to the Court on Vytal-” And the Court on Vytal would say that the Treaty was perfectly legal, and Corporations had no place dictating global politics just because they were wealthy monopolies and that the world was not in fact a corpocracy, no matter how vital they were to the running of the modern world.
“-et Councilor Oracion to veto it. She’s practically in our pock-” Anyone that thought they could puppet Lethe Oracion was deluding themselves. The ‘Familial Estates’ knew what they were doing electing her to the Atlesian Ruling Council. Behind her carefully manicured hands, flawless skin and dyed hair lay a razor sharp political mind.
“-ow Kruger-Caldari is willing to go along with this farce is beyond me!” The reason was fairly obvious to Jacques’ mind. Kruger-Caldari was a technologies and communications monolith from Argus (it was almost certainly more accurate to call them the Tech and Communications monolith given their monopoly in the field), and their getting the contract to build Menagerie’s CCT Tower would almost certainly make them a great deal of lien in the long run. They were the ones that had pioneered Scroll technology, and were the only ones that could legally repair the various relay towers across Remnant, and it had been them that had figured out how to ensure that the loss of a single relay tower would not bring the whole system down.
“-should just ignore this Treaty.”
“...Enough.”
The single word from their boss was enough to silence the room. Jacques allowed the silence to drag on for nearly a full minute before he spoke again. “You all comprehend why no Government or legal body has intervened with how we do things, I trust?”
Jacques cast his gaze over those around the table, all of whom remained silent, and tented his fingers before continuing. “It is not down to bribes. It is not down to blackmail. It is because everything we do, every move and decision we take has been checked and double checked and triple checked by our legal department to ensure its total, undeniable legality. No Government intervenes because they have no legal reason or way to do so. And despite this… your collective opinion on how to deal with our present situation appears to be the abandonment of the guiding principle that has made us the largest and wealthiest business empire in recorded history?”
It was the Director of their Southern Mistralli operations that spoke up. “With respect, Mr Schnee. But part of this Treaty would involve us not overcharging Menagerie for the dust they order. As a chunk of our profits in that area come from-
“Shall I tell you what I see?” Jacques interrupted the man, simultaneously impressed and unimpressed with him. He had spoken up, but it was only to moan about the small picture/. “I see the restrictions that were placed upon us and other Companies like ours, restrictions that were preventing us from doing business on Menagerie for fear that we’d eclipse local businesses, now removed in their entirety. I see the chance to stake new claims on new mines. I see the chance to build up new branch offices and finally expand our customer base to every corner of Remnant.”
It was obvious that most of the people in the room were filled with varying degrees of uncertainty simply from the looks on their faces. It was disappointing, but not exactly unexpected. The Directors were used to effectively ruling their area of operations as petty kings, and rarely cared about the bigger picture. That would need to change, or they would need to find new jobs.
“It is true that we’d need to pay any Menagerian citizen the same as we would a human elsewhere.” He conceded. “But as we already adhere to the local laws of other nations, like how our Mistralli operations pay those from the south and more traditionally Mistralli territories more than we do those from the north and Pellan Coast for example, this is nothing all that unusual for us. We are not required to improve the conditions in our mines in any of the Four Kingdoms, nor are we required to pay our Faunus employees more across the board. If it gets us access to this last part of the world, I am willing to shell out a little more Lien to see it finally done at last. Let that be the final word of it.”
There was a murmuring of acknowledgement across the room, and one by one the Director’s started to leave the room.
“Clark?” Jacques spoke aloud, only after he was certain that the Directors were gone.
“Yes, sir?”
“Start vetting our higher ups. I want the Director of Operations of SDC Menagerie to not be someone booted out after a week for offending the local Government.”
The goat Faunus gave a single nod. “Understood sir. It will be on your desk first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Dependable as ever, Clark.”
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I had made my decision.
It had taken time to do so. Indeed, it was now the very last day before the offer was off the table, and I was only now on my way to Ironwood’s office. I had initially considered declining, but it was only after a talk with Glover that I eventually made up my mind.
I had gone to his office to discuss the offer, asking him outright if it was right to take the job when my main motivation wasn’t the joy of education, but the pay.
His answer was not what I had expected:
“‘Course it bloody is.”
I blinked. “Really?”
The old man let out a laugh. “You joined up because you needed money, remember? True, it’s down to that ‘lost history’ of yours, but you still joined up for the money. But the real question is, do you really want to be stuck in here for your entire career? The Archives aren’t exactly known for their possible progression paths after all. It isn’t wrong to want more from life, Casper. So don’t you dare feel bad about it.”
I nodded slowly as my thoughts coalesced. It was true that I was only in the military because I needed money, but that was because it was a sure thing. They always needed extra hands. Always. “..Fair points, sir.”
Glover looked at me, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “Made up your mind then?”
“I think so.”
“Good. I don’t know what the future will hold, so you damn well listen and take this as an order, Schwartz.” He grinned at me. “Get the hell outta here already, and drill some sense in those kids' heads.”
I snapped out of the memory as I arrived in front of Ironwood’s office. I took a calming breath, and knocked on the door. Eventually, after a long pause, the door opened. James Ironwood looked at me with slight confusion, before schooling his expression back down to its typical neutrality.
“Can I help you, Archivist Schwartz?”
“...I accept your offer, Sir.” I said, conviction filling my words. “I will be your History Professor.”
Ironwood let out a sigh, and gave a chuckle. “That’s probably the best news I’ve heard all day. Thank you, Schwartz.”
I grinned. “Long one, sir?”
“You have no idea.”