So it is done (Patreon)

General James Ironwood did not like to act in a hurry. In fact, no one liked it, especially in the army – exceptionally so for those in senior positions – and anathema when it came to saving lives. Haste in such an important and sensitive matters led to casualties, to waste, to problems and to mishaps.

But, for all his dislike of it, James Ironwood knew how to act in haste, because for all its disadvantages, it is much preferred than being late. Being too hasty in a rescue might lead to unnecessary damage or, worse, lives needlessly wasted – but being late?

Being late means saving no one at all.

So when assembling and preparing his ships for departure, for the long voyage across the oceans to Vacuo to save millions, James received an urgent message from Ozpin to hurry – he had no opportunity, no time, no desire to doubt. Oh, how much he would have loved to rebuke everyone, from Ozpin to the last poor fucker who had spotted the appearance of the Vacuan horde. For every mistake, for every carelessness – and especially for the fact that the ‘reliable’ information given about the Super-horde's behavior ended up being false.

But James had no time for pointless actions.

The previously leisurely loading, with soldiers lazily setting off on their tasks, the routine checking of the knights' readiness, needed to be cut down. Still, such a clumsy pile of army bureaucracy and human laziness was not easy to subdue.

But James Ironwood knew how to act swiftly, if not always beautifully.

What should have taken another three or four hours with the preparations for departure, with the departure itself taking another hour at least, was finished in twenty minutes.

In twenty minutes full of swearing, shouting and general anger he had burnt at least two million nerve cells in his brain. But it was done.

The flight, which would have otherwise taken twelve hours with a tailwind at that, turned from a lazy drift into a high-speed race of giant whales – Atlas’ warships pushed to the limit of what is possible.

Under normal circumstances, the warships were not maneuverable or at all fast, for all their power and formidable appearance, giving both assurance to civilians and terror to the enemy – if that enemy could feel terror at all, Atlas warships were… Not the most cost-effective weapon in the world.

Atlas' battleships were super weapons.

In the sense that they were super expensive, super sophisticated and super functional – in a bad way.

Each airship was thirty to fifty thousand tons of steel, lifted into the air by the minds, hands – and money – of men. And Dust, lots and lots of Dust.

What unrealistic amount of dust did it take for such an airship to simply stay in the air? Tons – per hour. In Lien, it costs such a sum that a mere man could not even look at the figure, simply confused by the number of orders and the arrangement of numbers.

However, after their first take-off, such battleships, despite the colossal expenditure of dust, were almost always in the air, almost never sinking to the ground. The reason was not that Atlas' army had nothing to spend the money on, it was simply more economical to do so. After all, an idling airship could have its consumption of Dust minimized, one that is lifting its titanic bulk to rise from the ground couldn’t. With the amount of false alarms and drills run almost every day, that cost would soon balloon and bankrupt even Atlas.

In other words, given that it took thousands of taxpayers' Lien to keep such a machine in the air every second – the cost of getting it to go anywhere was impossible to even estimate.

It was therefore much easier for such battleships to use small – comparatively speaking, portions of Dust to head for their desired location, drifting more on the winds than actively trying to move with the power of their engine.

But that didn't mean that Atlas' battleships didn't have that option.

Necessity is the mother of all inventions.

Atlas' airships could move at faster than car speeds, just at a cost that would make even Jacques Schnee clutch at his heart.

But if the Super-horde had started the attack on Vacuo ahead of schedule…

General James Ironwood had principles – principles by which he lived his life.

Some lives were not worth it, James hated to say it, but life was brutal and demanded the truth from one. All life was judged on a scale of cost and benefit.

But there was a limit to everything, even the valuation of lives.

When millions were involved – no amount was too excessive.

And so, by the decision and direction of James Ironwood, millions of tonnes of dust were burned at a time, the strategic reserves of Atlas emptied by a third at the stroke of a pen.

Oh, he could scarcely imagine the amount of shit that would pour out on his head after this decision…  What damage, more importantly, how much Lien, would be required to repair the airships. What problems would arise en route because of the accelerated inspection, what problems will arise in Atlas after his urgent announcement and warning, the amount of panic…

The army's preparations, a large-scale operation, could not be hidden, but such actions were not new to Atlas.

Sweeping the newly discovered fields of Grimm? Such was the thought circulating in army circles, a rather routine procedure.

But then Ozpin's words broke such a familiar picture of the world, and through Ironwood's announcement Atlas began to move. Thousands of soldiers set off in airships to faraway Vacuo to save hundreds of thousands of lives and to make war on the Grimm.

And here, James Ironwood, now finds himself, rushing at full speed towards Vacuo.

James had already prepared an initial plan of attack for the horde, but his mind could not calm down, drawing him one plan after another, and disaster after disaster.

If the previous information had proven to be unreliable – what awaited him now?

James was aware, and are prepared for, the fact that he would probably arrive to the dilapidated remains of a once great city, overrun by Grimm. To see the desperate battle of the hopeless men and Hunters against the endless, ever advancing and marching horde of Grimm. That many of his soldiers, after disembarking from their ships after the first strike, would at this moment earn their worst scar on their psyche, and he was prepared for that.

Seeing a quiet city instead, with no Grimm in sight, was not what James had expected at all.

Of course, by standard procedure, the arrival of reinforcements in the form of Atlas's army would have been announced in advance. A simple psychological trick to blunt the raging negativity within the psyche of the people, giving hope at the thought of the cavalry's arrival. To stop drawing in the Grimm, at least a little, making the army's job a little easier. But even the most optimistic accounting of Vacuo’s defensive capability, the amount of destruction a Super-horde was capable of would still have them on their last legs.

To have none at all? Impossible.

Even assuming that Ozpin's new information was wrong too, and the horde was still on the periphery of the city itself, at least from a bird's eye view, James should have seen the horde.

But instead of a carpet of darkness, interspersed with red and white outlines, all James discovered as he approached was… A battlefield, the remains of one.

At least that was the conclusion James came to when he saw the huge crater of glittering glass and scattered sand, a kilometer in diameter at the most conservative reckoning. A judgement made harder due to the fact he was so high-up in the air.

And of course, James, and his armada, had felt the blast wave that had circled Remnant several times. Had it not been for the quick reaction of the ships' captains, losing their course would have been the least of the Atlas air fleet's problems.

Could it have been Jonathan's intervention? James was prepared to entertain such a possibility. How he had accomplished it and what it meant in the big picture, James planned to speculate later.

But even with that, even if for some unknown reason the horde had disappeared somewhere, even if, somehow, the entire Super-horde had been destroyed, James had a thousand other things to do.

First he needs to talk to the local Council, assess the damage done, form a protective cordon and search parties. Essentially, doing everything in order to neutralize the effects of the Horde's appearance and actions as effectively as possible and prepare for the possible appearance of the next horde.

Better James Ironwood be known as a nervous paranoid than someone who was not serious about his duties to protect the people of Remnant.

So a man as busy, and experienced in the occupation as he was, could not fail to notice the vast pandemonium in the center of Vacuo. Having quickly given orders to the other commanders, he summoned a small bullhead to appear in person to face the people.

If the commanders of Vacuo’s defense were there, it was the most appropriate thing to do. Even if not, the personal appearance of a high-ranking and illustrious officer and Hunter before the people would still boost their morale.

***

Jonathan didn't know what he noticed first, the way his hand twitched from the small bullhead with Atlesian colors, of the army general who had seen Raven Branwen, or the sinister gleam that momentarily stared at Jonathan himself. James Ironwood had arrived.

The Vacuo councilman, an elderly man with an unimpressive, thin gray-silver colored beard and an almost bald head, instantly identified something about James' figure. He then took a step towards the microphone designated for an impromptu ceremony to award Vacuo's saviors, then quickly enough began muttering something about how the people of Vacuo were now to quickly disperse to their homes. That the conversation would continue between the high ranking officials of those who were solving the current crisis that had overtaken the glorious city of Vacuo.

Even if Jonathan had not seen Ozpin's hand in everything that was going on at the moment, he would have been able to guess that such a suggestion would not work.

The catastrophic process had already been set in motion. James might not point his weapon directly at Raven or Jonathan, but his brand of diplomacy, if you can call it that, was something Jonathan had absolutely no faith in.

In front of at least tens of thousands of people who were not leaving, for a whole host of reasons. Ranging from wanting to see something new and interesting to wanting to try and spit at some Atlas soldier from the crowd, James Ironwood was rushing towards a conflict with Jonathan and Raven. And indirectly also with Summer, Qrow and all of the Vacuan people.

He was walking in no hurry at all, he wasn't about to turn away from his path – and there weren't many ways in which that conflict could unfold.

Jonathan was forced to make the first move.

***

“Glad to see you, General," The short and rather young man, leaning on a cane, took a half step forward, marking himself as the main negotiator and leader, causing James to stop opposite him, looking intently at the self-proclaimed king.

James' opinion of Jonathan was quite… Conflicted.

James couldn't help but respect the young lad's personal views and his desire to provide the citizens of the state he was entrusted with, with the most carefree and peaceful life possible. And although James was no scientist, he couldn't help but admire Jonathan's scientific – magical – inventions that had saved a number of lives from horrific injuries and incurable illnesses.

At the same time, Jonathan remained an official, a top-level politician belonging to a state that was in more than tepid relations with Atlas. And a man whose involvement in the riots in Mantle, in Atlas' direct jurisdiction, was in fact officially confirmed.

James' attitude towards Jonathan was complicated, and the presence of one of the most wanted criminals in all Remnant, Raven Branwen, behind his back didn't make things any easier at all.

“Jonathan," Ignoring Raven's presence for a moment, James held out his hand to Jonathan before shaking it firmly, trying to ignore her presence for another second. "I assume that the Grimm problem has been… solved, one way or another?”

“For the most part.” Jonathan nodded before glancing up at the Atlas battleships hovering in the sky.

“Some small portion of the horde may have survived, but they are small in number, and isolated besides, the chance of them grouping up seems minimal.”

“I see,” James sighed, nodding before turning his gaze to Raven, standing behind Jonathan as if to put Jonathan as her shield in the face of Atlas’ army and general. She seemed a little amused by the current situation, or perhaps the wandering smile on her lips was a sign of her anticipation of the situation. James was no master of emotional parsing.

Could he simply turn around now and pretend that no wanted criminal was now in front of him? Walk away, leaving the most wanted criminal, furthermore official part of the White Fang Army, one that is considered to be a terrorist army in Atlas, unmolested?

Perhaps he could, in the sense that there was nothing physically stopping him from turning around and just walking away.

But what would happen after that…

An insane waste, in his terrible haste an army march that turned out to be unnecessary, making Atlas's strongest army a laughingstock, at the same time, causing incredible financial and reputational losses. All the while, James returned empty-handed to answer for the missing Jacques Schnee, trying to appease the rebellious Atlas elites and the common people of Mantle.

James Ironwood was in a nasty predicament; it wouldn't be strange if, on his return, a question was raised about the suitability of the position he held for his blunder.

But if he had a card to play – even a small one…

Raven Branwen, Remnant's most wanted criminal, and a high ranking member of the White Fang – while being human at that, if brought to Atlas to pay for her crime… It might save James from a disaster.

So with a sigh, and more than aware that he was entering a dangerous path, James turned from Jonathan, crossing his gaze to Raven Branwen before stepping forward. “Raven Branwen…  Please follow me to my ship, you are char…”

“General,” Jonathan stepped forward, almost hitting James, causing him to shift his gaze to the short, especially in comparison to the larger general, young man. “If you’re going forward with this, at least I'll ask you to… step off the podium before you throw around such big words.”

Oh yes, the podium… The podium in front of thousands of Vacuan people who were watching the live spectacle playing out in front of them right now. The Vacuan councilman had shown wonders of discretion in slipping off the platform somewhere into the crowd a little earlier, leaving it to the participants themselves to sort out the show.

James didn't want to make a spectacle of himself and play to the crowd, but it was likely that as soon as Jonathan took a step around the corner, he would run off with Raven, using his teleportation.

In Glenn or Menagerie, reaching them, even with Atlas' long arm, was virtually impossible, especially given their position in those places and states. If they escaped, there was no chance of James getting to them, he would have to return to Atlas empty-handed. No, with his hands holding billions in debts for a failed military operation.

James had to act quickly, with such a huge crowd of witnesses, Jonathan would not use his teleportation, it was James' only chance of catching Raven.

“Okay," James nodded, "My bullhead is standing a little further away. Let's go over there.”

“With all due respect, General,” Jonathan, clearly taking over the answering function for all the participants standing across from James, replied again. “I will only say this once, very clearly and quickly, wanting to end this argument once and for all.” Jonathan drew in his breath, standing straight and looking as imposing as he could. An image ruined by his limp and cane, but maximized by the large crater, perhaps a thousandth the size of Atlas if not larger, just outside the city.

“Raven Branwen is the official representative of the White Fang and Menagerie, a legitimate state, as part of its armed forces. She is here at the official request of the kingdoms of Glenn and Vacuo. You know full well the diplomatic weight of that position, General, and what would happen should anything untoward happen to her.”

Jonathan might well have been lying, but for all his political ineptitude, James realized quickly that no Vacuo representative would deny that. What would they even say? That they all survived completely by accident, without any help from Jonathan and Raven, people that they were about to award medals to?

Knowing that, Jonathan could make such a statement with full confidence that James couldn't deny them. At least not without going over the head of the Vacuan Council.

And yet, at the same time, James could not retreat so easily either. Even if he had to engage in conflict in front of thousands of people around him to do so, and perhaps make an enemy of Vacuo in the future.

How he liked the army – simple orders and unambiguous commands – and how he disliked politics…

“General, if you believe that Specialist Raven Branwen is guilty of anything, you can formally send your letter of complaint to the White Fang, to Ghira Belladonna or any suitable official regarding extradition or other suitable discussion," Jonathan exhaled and looked into James' eyes, before continuing.

“Until then, your actions violate the sovereignty of White Fang, Vacuo and Glenn. Raven Branwen is currently an official and a member of the military in the line of duty – if necessary, you may consider that she has been granted diplomatic immunity…”

James almost twitched at Jonathan's words before shifting his gaze to the man and glaring at him without much affection, flaring his nostrils slightly with a raucous breath.

So…

Is that it?

Raven Branwen was a known criminal – to claim that she wasn't would be absurd… and to his credit, Jonathan didn't claim that – instead he turned the whole thing into a bureaucratic hellhole. Send a formal letter, and we'll see what we can do.

With the right manipulation of the bureaucracy, this process could have been stuck forever…

Not to mention the fact that Atlas simply had NO official channels of communication with Menagerie and Glenn, as they had not established any diplomatic channels.

And forcing them open now? When James' position was already shaky enough – was impossible, unless James wanted to roll off his position faster than the first diplomats got to Glenn and Menagerie's borders.

But if James were to act now, ignoring the diplomatic immunity just granted to Raven by Jonathan?

A wave of suspicious deaths of senior Atlas officials, and terrorist attacks in Glenn, all suspiciously connected to him, would be the best of outcomes.

Which meant that James had found himself bound hand and foot.

***

Jonathan saw only two ways out of the situation.

James could retreat, acknowledging Jonathan's sovereignty, and the White Fang's, and more importantly, Menagerie.

Hmm, we'll have to let Ghira know that he was the one who had secretly sent Raven to Vacuo…

Letting go of Raven would do indescribable damage to his standing in Atlas, but it would be the lesser of two evils.

Or to go into open conflict with Jonathan, by giving the order to arrest Raven.

In which case, Jonathan would simply retreat along with his entourage… It’s not like any prison would be any barrier to him, but it would mean going against Ozpin’s plans.

Passing off his magic as a semblance of Raven’s could be done without too much trouble, if he played his cards right. But other than that fact, Atlas and Jonathan going into open conflict, more than they already are at least, didn't bode well.

The situation, however one looked at it, was not only extremely conflicted, but also hopeless…

Huh, so that's it – why conflicts are born in politics…

Jonathan and James were not representatives of totally incompatible ideologies or anything like that – they were simply in a situation where neither of them could back down.

Behind James was Atlas, and behind Jonathan was Ozpin.

Being the pawn of an ancient schemer… Is unpleasant.

The silence slowly dragged on, with neither James nor Jonathan wanting to make the first move, both knowing full well that there was no good outcome to this confrontation. And yet both seeing the one and only right outcome to the negotiations.

Outcomes that contradicted each other.

The Vacuan people – even the Hunters on the podium, were silent, as if watching the orchestrated spectacle from the front row, while the two actors in action endured a dramatic pause.

There was nowhere for them to retreat, and so, after a few seconds of silence, everyone finally came to terms with what was happening.

Jonathan spoke first, knowing that what would happen next was inevitable. “I'm sorry, General, for the short meeting, but we have to be going now.”

“Sorry, I can't allow you to do that,” Each one of them had made their position clear.

“Frankly and with respect, I had forgotten the moment the King of Glenn came under Atlas's jurisdiction and was obliged to ask an Atlas' general for permission for his actions.” Jonathan glanced at James before shaking his head. If nothing else, Ozpin has a good read on the General and Atlas in general, this is going pretty much as Ozpin had planned, at least what he had assumed was the plan.

There’s no longer a possibility that this conversation would have a good outcome, for either of them.

“Unfortunately, the Glenn Special Administrative Area does not have the power to grant diplomatic immunity," James exhaled, "Not to mention the fact that diplomatic immunity cannot be granted ex post facto.”

“I hope you have with you all the evidence you need to charge an official in the line of duty,” Of course James didn't have that evidence with him, but he didn't need to. This was not a conversation in the literal sense, instead almost like a play with them as the actor, reading their lines, gradually, building unstable rails, the two trains were moving towards a collision.

James surrendered first, acting out a futile gesture to save his head, if only to lose his limbs later. “Knights – take Raven Branwen into custody.”

As if they had rehearsed it, Jonathan took action.

With a snap of his fingers, a reddish portal opened before Raven.

A moment more and the platform was empty except for James, the four Atlas robots who had just arrived but hadn't even had the time to use their weapons…

And the tens of thousands of Vacuan people who had just watched the whole thing live.

***

“I can't believe it! — I heard they put a lot of metal into his body, but I didn't think they'd replaced his head with a solid piece of metal as well!”  Qrow banged his fist onto the table loudly.

Jonathan, on the other hand, silently looked around at all the arrivals, the teleportation disguised as Raven's portal had transported them to one of the rooms allocated to the RATS – a small workroom for such little predictable events.

So, we have officially become Atlas's number one enemy. Everyone here has just become enemy number one.

Oh, yeah, couldn't have been more precise. For how long? Well, probably until Atlas itself is destroyed.

Five years at the most.

How much would follow from this meeting?

How much trouble Jonathan would be in, and how much trouble Atlas would be in…

James would have the most.

Tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, the world would be bombarded with news about the nearly open battle between Glenn and Atlas. Given the journalists' love of screaming headlines and embellishing the truth for the sake of a nice and interesting text, Jonathan was prepared to be surprised to learn a week later that he personally took a bullet from Ironwood. And that the General had opened fire on the peaceful people of Vacuo…

All thanks to Ozpin.

Oh yes, the cunning old puppeteer may not have been all-powerful – but he had played Jonathan and Ironwood like a well-rehearsed play.

And now any normalization of relations between Glenn and Atlas could be put to rest, Vacuo had seriously shifted sides towards Glenn, and with the internal squabbles in Mantle and Atlas…

Jonathan needed at least a few days to pare down the implications of such an event. All that he could see, at least.

Ozpin is experienced – too experienced.

Jonathan sighed.

But not all-powerful.

Now? Now he should leave the group for a while – give Qrow and Summer, time alone with Raven, and then…

Too bad that Jonathan Goodman won't cooperate with Ozpin.

Fight with Ozpin? Oh no, Jonathan wasn't stupid. Feuding with Ozpin was not at all something he could easily do without some sleepless weeks.

But friendship with Ozpin didn't work out either.

Which meant now he would leave the three Hunters and…

Jonathan grinned slightly grimly, glancing at Raven, who, instantly understanding his intentions, nodded slightly.

Now he needs to act lightly, a word there, invitations sent, a little bit of accidents after his meeting with Raven. And after that? He has a plan for that.

A new, fifth, Hunters' academy, the Order of Hermes, would solve the teacher shortage.

Ozpin could use Jonathan – but that didn't mean Jonathan couldn't use Ozpin either.

It wouldn't become a war tomorrow, and neither of them would be sticking a blade in each other's heart a year from now.

It's a long process.

A very long process.

It will happen gradually – slowly bridges will begin to break down and people will die, ties will be severed and gradually movements will become more and more obvious.

Until, at some point, everyone will say – we are enemies.

Jonathan didn't want to quarrel with Ozpin, and Jonathan had every reason to assume that Ozpin didn't want that either.

But he was Jonathan Goodman. Jonathan Goodman was just one smug and self-righteous boy. And the friendship between Jonathan Goodman and Ozpin didn’t work out.

Which meant…

Jonathan shut the door behind him and exhaled.

So it is done.