Maidens and Mystics - Part II

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Twisted :

I have recaptured my escaped Mii Mii for edits. No clue how long it will last, she escapes my traps easily, but she's here now~!

Mii-Mii :

*Angry fox noises*

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Ozpin himself was there to meet him when he reached the elevator, wearing his robes and carrying his weapon. The man stood straight and impressive as always, one hand resting atop his cane at his side and other holding a mug. At the sight of his robes and weapon, he frowned and spoke, "I can assure you that your weapon is quite unnecessary, Mister Arc. This is Beacon. We're all allies here."

"Is that why my teammate called for help?"

"Did she, now?" Ozpin asked, raising an eyebrow and meeting his eyes searchingly. Taking a sip of his drink and turning his gaze to it pensively, he added off-handedly. "Odd, that. She's in no danger here at Beacon. At least, that I know of."

"Hmph." He eyed the cane but any thoughts of actually fighting were quickly and easily banished. He couldn't face down the headmaster and for all he'd brought his saber, he hadn't come expecting a fight. At least, not one he could win. Instead, he explained, as politely as he could manage, "Pyr asked for my help with something. Not a fight, but something she would only say was important. At least over messenger."

"Hm. I suppose that does make a bit more sense, with your explanation. Still..." His eyes flicked up to the sheath holding his weapon again and he mused, smiling innocently all the while, "If you suspected she was in danger, you could have alerted staff. Further, you would be armed and armored. Yet you lack your armor."

"The weapon is comforting." He lied easily, the skill - and it was a skill - ingrained in him from his time under Instructor. For a Sith, deceit was as much a weapon as a lightsaber or, if he ever got there, Lightning. "I only brought it for comfort, so I didn't see a real need to get my armor strapped on." After a moment, he added, "Sir."

"So polite." The man smiled, chuckling under his breath and shaking his mug, watching the contents stir inside the porcelain mug. After a moment, with a casual sort of speed and consideration, he fished his Scroll out of his pocket and flicked it open. As if reading from a shopping list he recited, "Twenty minutes ago, J. Arc requisitioned additional ammunition supplies for a training venture. Five minutes later, J. Arc requisitioned two camping packs and a week's worth of rations."

"Just regular supplies for missions or whatever, Sir." He lied just as smoothly, clasping his hands behind his waist in the classic 'at ease' that had similarly been drilled into him. Eyes narrowing in challenge, he explained the lie carefully, "I read that being stocked ahead was good practice, Sir." He shrugged for effect, "I figured I should get started."

"Mhm." The wizened man nodded, "And I suppose it's mere convenience that this all happened after she contacted you?"

"Coincidence." He shrugged, forcing a polite little laugh for added effect. "They do happen sometimes, you know, Headmaster."

"Quite right they do, J. Arc." He chuckled at the referential way of using his name and turned his gaze back on his Scroll meaningfully, one eyebrow raised in question. In that same voice as before, he spoke, loud and clear, "J. Arc requested transport to Vale to be available in the evening, since redacted due to him cancelling his-"

"I'm planning on taking Pyrrha into Vale to see a movie." He lied quickly, cutting the man off and smiling widely. Ozpin raised his eyebrow and he answered the obvious, if unasked, question, "I cancelled because I didn't want to presume that she'd want to go and put her out. She's the type that she'd go if she thought I wanted to, even if she didn't."

"Yes, she is. A very honorable young woman, a Huntress in the making if I have ever seen one in my long years. A good, honest person. Unlike you, it seems." He met his eyes and the young warrior flinched at the tremor that ran through the Force and into him. Like the wave berths of a great ship sailing by, almost, with its waves washing against him far and away enough not to drag him down. "Do not lie to me, Mister Arc, when I entrust to you a secret of the world's safety. I will not tolerate you endangering all that we hold dear for petty lying."

"The world's-"

"The truth, if you please." The man cut in, taking long strides towards him, his cane clacking threateningly every step of the way. Face to face, and taller than him if only slightly, the Headmaster stared down at him, "If I am to trust you with the whole truth of such delicate things, then you must be honest with me Mister Arc. We have to trust each other."

"Trust is earned, Sir." And never demanded except by people who couldn't think of any other way to get it. Or who lacked time to. Concerned for more than just the old man, Jaune started to ask, "Headmaster, what is going-"

"I gave you the opportunity to get your family out of poverty that had stricken them, which almost cost your sister her life." He pointed out mutedly, in the same 'matter of fact' kind of tone someone might about the weather. "Which did cost her her arm, if I recall."

"How dare you-" Jaune bristled but the man cut him off with a raised hang in a request for silence. A request Jaune granted, for reasons he couldn't properly place, waving a hand for him to continue, "Go ahead."

"Thank you." The man nodded and smiled disarmingly, stepping back a pace in a gesture of peace. "I have put myself out of a lot to get you to where you wished to be, and I don't just mean Lien. To both our benefits, of course. And I am not trying to coerce you into doing anything for some feeling of debt, either, so you are aware."

"Then why bring it up?" And, regardless of his stated intent, threaten him with it. Ozpin's support had brought them free of the mire they had found themselves in and, implicitly, he could see them mired once more if he so wished.

"Trust." He answered simply, turning and walking to the elevator, now. As he slotted his card in to demand its immediate appearance, he went on. Sounding friendly and amicable all the while, yet also somehow tired. Like the whole effort was rote and trite, and he was simply going through it, like a man brushing his teeth while half asleep. "I believe that after so much time, effort and goodwill, you should trust me enough not to lie. And not to prepare escape measures, of course, as though the threat of death lies behind each door."

"I didn't-"

"No armor so you could run faster rather than fight. Camping supplies to hide in the forest and rations for food until you supplied yourself better." Ozpin cut him off, smiling peacefully as always but watching him with hard, sharp eyes. "And your weapon in case you needed to defend yourself. Your glaive would be useless in helping you escape trained Hunters, but your saber would burn through Aura and melt droids easily."

"...Pyrrha sounded panicked." He explained, opting for half of the truth and hoping he would buy it. Ozpin hummed, turning to look over his shoulder at him. A silent prompt for him to continue, he guessed, "I was going to get the Bullhead in case we needed to escape, but I cancelled it so no one would notice, as successful as that was. The supplies are partially just me being paranoid and, you know, keeping supplied in case anything happens."

"Such as?"

"Grimm attack on Vale? Terrorist attack? An asteroid strike? The rising of the damn dead?" He was over-selling it a bit, but the art of deceit taught that sometimes the more ostentatious and unbelievable story would sell better than a more believable one. And besides, he could freely and honestly admit, "I'm just paranoid like that, Headmaster. You never know when you'll need ammunition, or camping supplies, or what have you."

"Quite. A touch of paranoia is good in our line of work." Whether Ozpin believed him, though, Jaune couldn't be sure. At the very least he didn't sense any suspicion coming off of the man. Instead, his was a place of odd serenity. Almost manicured, in a way that he couldn't understand. Regardless, the doors slid open, and Ozpin ushered him into the lift, "Please, after you, Mister Arc."

"Sure." Inside, he leaned against the back of the elevator, turned to the side a bit so his sheath didn't prod him uncomfortably. Ozpin joined him and the doors closed but, off enough, he didn't press a button. Instead, it moved on its own, descending rather than ascending as he'd expected. "We're going down?"

"Yes."

"I wasn't aware there was a down." And that layered with everything else had his hackles up, to say the least.

"No one is. By design, that is." The man admitted with a small, curt nod and smile, turning to meet his eyes. "The elevator is serviced by drones or specialists under my ally, James', personal auspices. The Vault itself is only serviced by drones, under my or the Headmistress' personal supervision and control. None are allowed down here at all without one of use, either, aside from Qrow."

"Qrow…?" The name tickled at his memory oddly, for a long moment. Something distant, nearly buried under a mountain of more important information. Finally, he blinked, "Ruby's uncle?!"

"You know of him then?"

"She's mentioned him." Once or twice, and only in passing. He recognized the name more than anything, really, but that was enough to have his interest. Especially since he knew she'd been let in by Ozpin, who he now came to find had connections to her uncle. "What does Ruby have to do with any of this, Ozpin?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you let her in early." And now he was suspicious, but the man only chuckled and waved his concerns off with a hand.

"She's merely a talented young woman with a good eye for our work. In a couple of years, she would have in all likelihood been here regardless. I saw a good chance to invest in the future, though, when she interceded against Torchwick. And the rest, as they say..." He shrugged and Jaune had to grimace and nod. Even if he was still suspicious of the situation, he didn't have anything he could accuse him of exactly. After a moment, the doors slid open and, conscious of his suspicion or not, Ozpin waved him forward, smiling. "Welcome to Beacon's Vault, Mister Arc. Few get to see it."

"Yeah…" The secrecy made that obvious.

The Vault itself was long and high, with vaulted ceilings supported by what had to ancient brick working judging from how the lights and electrical wiring had been put in. Massive rods speared into the rocks as anchors every few feet, with wires spanning between them like massive arteries. From the wire-made arteries and spindling, cable-veins both, round, fluorescent lights hung, casting light down on the distant floor. Wall sconces rested on each pillar as well, combining with the lights above to at least keep the room well-lit enough to see, even if it was a bit gloomy.

As he followed the Headmaster, they passed recesses with heavy vault doors set back and away from the main walkway. Each was labeled in ways he couldn't understand, such as 'N-1-SF', and Ozpin tutted when he saw him looking, "Please, Mister Arc, now is not the time for snooping."

"Not like I can see anything worth anything…"

"The point stands." The man grunted, leading him further along. Jaune could only shrug and follow him, listening to the man explain, "Beacon's Vault holds many secrets, young man. And I would appreciate being allowed to keep them to myself. There are those who would be interested even in just my rather… Esoteric, shall we say, designations for some of the things down here."

"I guess…" Regardless, he heard the quiet chatter of several people and looked past the headmaster and ahead of them.

"General James Ironwood of Atlas, the Council and the army both, and Qrow Branwen." Ozpin introduced them as they reached the group, the older members of it moving away from the machine to meet him. He paid them little attention, though, too transfixed by the woman sleeping in one of the… Pods. Ozpin, seeing this, chuckled and introduced her as well, "And this is, or was, I suppose, Amber Tomber."

"She's in pain." He murmured, the sensation rolling off her almost violently. Bandages were wrapped around her sternum and, though she lay still, her eyes would occasionally pinch in pain and her fingers would flex. His eyes turned to the machine beside her, which Pyrrha was also staring at, and guessed, "You're keeping her under."

"For her own benefit, yes." The general answered, standing stock still with his hands clasped behind his back. Every part the classic soldier, to his eyes. "She was badly wounded in an attack, and can't be helped. So we keep her catatonic, more or less, rather than make her languish."

"A mercy." Pyrrha murmured, catching his eye as she turned around. "A small one, though."

"Yeah, a mercy." The dark-haired man ground out, stepping past him and moving to the wall. Leaning against it, he slid to the floor, one knee against his chest. Staring at the floor, he fished out a little flask to sip from, staring at it and murmuring, "Mercy woulda been gettin' to her before she wound up a vegetable."

"He was meant to protect her." Ozpin explained when he turned a curious look on him, searching for answers. Frowning, he finished, "Alas that Amber was so free-spirited. She evaded him and was ambushed before Qrow could catch up to her. Still, he blames himself for it."

"He," Qrow snapped, "is also here still, you know, Oz."

"And I think you need some air." The headmistress chided gently, moving across the room to him and offering him a hand up. "Come, Qrow. Let's head to the office to catch a good view and some fresh air. Being down here isn't good for you."

"I'm not made o' glass, damn it." Regardless, though, he let her tug him up and followed the woman out and away, towards the elevator.

"He's hard on himself." Ozpin sighed once they were out of ear-shot, turning back to the young students as Pyrrha stepped to his side. From her he sensed a veritable mountain of anxiety and fear, the girl stepping close enough their arms touched and, from what he could feel, calming for it. Why, he was sure he was about to find out as the Headmaster turned to him with a tired, dry sigh, "Well, I suppose that's enough avoiding the conversation then. Now, shall we get to the matter at hand? It's a lot to take in, as Miss Nikos can attest, so if you would prefer to retire to my office..."

Jaunenodded and folded his arms across his chest, "You'd be surprised how much I can take in, Headmaster. Just tell me what's going on."

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"And so while we can't risk letting her pass naturally or simply… Well, that is..." Ozpin paused, lips pursed and searching for the right words. After a heartbeat he sighed, shook his head, and offered weakly, "Well, we can't simply end her ourselves, as dark as it sounds, and let the powers go to her killer. Instead, we can transfer her powers."

"Or, more specifically," Ironwood interrupted, "we can transfer what those powers are connected to."

"Her Aura. You want to give her Amber's Aura and with it her powers..." He murmured, earning a nod and looking at the strange machine in a new light.

At least now he understood why a machine made for one wounded girl had two pods on it. And though the Sith teachings taught that any means to greater power was just, and he could even see reasoning from the Jedi side of things to give her peace, to steal someone's Aura was…

"This is… This is wrong." Pyrrha said it for him, hugging herself and shaking her head beside him, watching the girl shift in her drug induced sleep. Turning her back on the woman and facing her elders with Jaune at her side, she almost snarled, shoulders rigid and eyes harder than he'd ever seen before. "You'd rip her very soul apart to save your control over this strange power?"

"It's not so simple, Miss Nikos." Ozpin said, eyes soft and voice mournful as he looked between the two. Consolingly, he tried to explain, "These powers are important. A nation, or faction, with them could alter the state of the world at large. Just imagine a group of radicals, or a warrish state, with the power to rain lightning and fire down upon their foes."

"Or a dictator trying to impose martial law and control, able to crush dissent with magical firepower." Ironwood added quickly, stepping up beside his peer and forming what was, at least visually, a unified front for the argument. Consciously, he joined Pyrrha, meeting the man's gaze beside her in the same wall. Turning his gaze back to her, the general went on, "This is done to ensure order and peace. This kind of power cannot fall into the hands of the kinds of people who would do something like this."

"Ambush and murder." Ozpin added, shaking his head, "These are not the tactics which speak to anyone of good character."

"I'd ambush and murder someone if I had to." Jaune stepped in to argue, shaking his head at the man's simplistic projection of morals. "The dictator you mentioned, for example. Or the people who did this," he gestured to the maimed woman, "are people I would gladly catch out and murder, ambush or otherwise."

"A good thing you are not the candidate then." Ironwood countered, "If you would do something like this."

"Yes, because the kinds of people who would rip the soul out of a person are the best judges of moral-" He was cut off as the Mistralian took his hand and squeezed it, turning to look at her. Face stony and eyes staring at nothing, she turned to him and shook her head. Sighing, he nodded and turned back to them, "I won't debate with you about morality, though. That isn't what we're here for."

"Tell us what you want, please, Sirs." Pyrrha prompted instead, voice quiet. A mask he knew well, that concealed her anger at a thing when she felt she ought to. Still, he could feel the hurricane that was Pyrrha Nikos, whipping up the Force around them. "I asked Jaune here to hear everything you had to say and then hear what you want us to do. And, preferably, why."

"From both of us." He added, before either of the men could speak. Squeezing her hand, he added, forcefully, "Pyrrha is my partner and one of my best friends. Whatever she gets into, I wanna be there to help her."

"Like a true partner and Huntsman ought to." Ozpin complimented, bowing his head slightly in a way that told Jaune he'd just gone up in his estimations. Taking a sip from his mug of what had to be cold coffee, the man sighed contentedly and explained, "We would like Miss Nikos to undergo the Aura transfer procedure. I won't lie, it will be painful, but it is perfectly safe. It's been… Tested."

"Tested how?"

"Classified, I'm afraid." Ironwood answered her, shaking his head and smiling softly. "And not my secrets to tell, even if I wanted to. I can promise, in the interests of cooperation, to ask them for permission to tell you though."

"After that is said and done, Qrow will be assigned to shadow you in a way unique to his… Talents." Ozpin went on, gesturing to himself with a small smile, "Further, I will personally train you and your team, who will be made aware of the situation at your discretion, so you may all be best protected. James has also agreed to gift you technology for weapon and armor upgrades, as well as the assets of his military as you need them."

"Within reason." Ironwood added with a chuckle, "I can't give you a fleet or anything, but if you asked, I could assign units to help you or your friends with missions. Extra defenses for Ansel, perhaps? That I could make a reason for a dedicated carrier at least for."

Defenses for his home, better training, equipment they likely would never be able to afford, and friends in the highest of places… If he was seeking power and influence like one would seek coal, he just struck gold. And the motherlode of it, too. They were even offering better protection for Pyrrha, in the form of a veteran Hunstman - drunk as he was - and military soldiers right out of Atlas. And yet, his suspicion only rose with each offer of gifts and support.

'But why?' He wondered, turning to look up at the bandaged, unconscious woman. His eyes lingered on her chest for a long moment, and he wondered.

"That's an amazing-"

"What hurt her?" He asked, giving Pyrrha an apologetic look as he turned back to look at the two men. Ozpin's brow rose and Jaune nodded his head back at her, "Her chest. She's got bandages wrapped around it. Which tells me that whatever was done to her, she was wounded at some point."

"Indeed she was." The man answered, eyes narrowed in suspicion for the briefest moment. "She had several punctures on her back. Rather nasty, too. Glass shards throughout the wounds."

"Ouch." Pyrrha murmured, "Glass weapons…? That sounds awful."

"You didn't say what did it, though." Jaune pointed out, pressing the man to answer. Glass shards as weapons, or the broken leftovers of some kind of weapon, did sound awful. But he needed to know something wholly different. "What kind of weapon inflicted the wound? Do you know?"

"Why does it matter what-?"

"Because I said it does." He snapped, cutting the general off and earning a sour, dark scowl for it. Pyrrha squeezed his hand in a silent signal to calm down and he took a breath, shaking his head. Quietly and more calmly, he explained, "I have reason to ask my question, General Ironwood. And just like I know you both are keeping things from us, you will just have to respect me not explaining why I need to know this."

Their gazes turned to Pyrrha, confused more than pleading but definitely a mix of both and she shrugged, "If you can't convince him, then I will refuse. He and I are partners, after all. We stand together."

"I see." And was also displeased by it by the sounds of it, but Ozpin sighed regardless. Quietly, he answered, "The wounds were too superficial to have been bullets and lacking the normal sort of scorch a Dust round would leave. Combined with the broken shards in the wound, I believe it was some sort of… Arrow, or bolt, firing weapon."

"An arrow…" Pyrrha murmured, physically trembling beside him. Gently, Jaune wrapped an arm around her, pulling him against his side comfortingly.

"We refuse." He answered simply, correcting himself when Pyrrha stiffened and looked up at him, mouth opening to protest. "I refuse, I mean. And we do this together, both of us agreeing to it, or not at all. Right, Pyr?"

He'd have been lying if he said he was worried she'd go against him. She was so damn honorable and duty-oriented it hurt, so it wouldn't have surprised him. And he'd have been damned if he was just going to abandon her to die. He was a Revanite before he was a Sith and, so far as he was concerned at least, a Revanite did not abandon their allies to die. Not to save their own skin, at the very least.

Seeing her pause, though, Ozpin rushed to fill the silence, "Miss Nikos, please consider the ramifications of-"

"No means no." She answered simply, surprising all of them. Jaune less than the others, maybe, but only just. For all their benefits, including her own he felt reasonably certain, she explained, "We don't want this kind of target on us, I'm sorry. If… If you ever need our help in something, ask, and we won't share what you told us. But this is…"

"Too much. This is all too much for us to deal with." Jaune finished for her, the girl calming and stepping free of his hug. Now the decision had been made, he sensed a lot of her anxiety fading away. The storm that was her ebbed quickly, until she was barely a stiff breeze blowing over the ocean. Seeing the two men stunned, and Ironwood growing angry, he asked, "May we be excused now, Headmaster?"

The man nodded and waved them off, displeased to be sure but unwilling to try and force the matter. He could understand why he'd be upset, after everything. And Pyrrha was talented besides, so losing out on her skills was no doubt a painful loss. He couldn't find himself to care beyond hoping they didn't kill them for knowing too much, though. Which was a concern, but…

Neither used bows that he knew of, so he wasn't too worried. And he was too busy leading the Mistralian to the elevator to think about it too much. Luckily, the ride up didn't need Ozpin there to manage it. Which was a relief.

"So," he started once the machine started to rise, smiling brightly, "wanna go into Vale for dinner to celebrate?"

"That... " She paused and smirked after a moment, shaking her head wryly. Relief rolling off her in waves, alongside a foreign sensation he couldn't place, she nodded. "That sounds wonderful, Jaune. I know a wondrous place for it, too. A bit higher market, to be sure, but I shall cover for us."

"Sounds good." He wasn't one to fret over his dinner partner paying his bill, after all. As the door opened, he waved a hand forward, "After you, since you're paying."

"As though you wouldn't be polite enough to let me go ahead if I weren't?" He only chuckled and she joined him, the two turning for the Bullhead docks.

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"Well, there goes that plan." James practically snarled, pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning on the console of the machine, veneer of military command and discipline gone now that it was only them. Shaking his head, he sighed and, without looking to the immortal behind him, asked, "Well, Oz. What do we do now? We need a new Maiden and your willingness to cave just lost us our best option."

"Our best, maybe. But certainly not our only option." He had his doubts, really. She was dutiful and honorable, true, but she was loyal to more than just Beacon. Or him. And that meant she wouldn't be a good candidate for his needs. Musing as he thought, he asked, "Tell me, James, what criteria did we settle on for our selection?"

"Playing thought games?" James asked, giving him a look and sighing when he nodded. The man knew that being talked to about their options could help him think and played into it. Straightening and turning to him, he rattled off quickly and efficiently, "Combat experience, controllability, as much as you hated the term. And of course, the kind of honor and integrity that can be proven that would make them trustworthy. We don't want another Raven."

"Quite." Tragic as losing her to fear had been, and as deeply as he felt the wound, he had to put it aside for now. "There is a young woman currently attending Beacon with a deep need in her to atone for past actions. Not to mention several years of real world combat experience. And integrity well-proven."

"...I already hate this." Ironwood sighed, shaking his head and then nodding. "Very well. Shall I start the vetting process on the Belladonna girl?"

"Yes." He had faith in the young former terrorist, but one could never be too cautious.

And there was a non-zero chance that she could be a mole, or be tempted back to the White Fang. If she were honest, though, then she would appreciate their vetting process. And the opportunity being offered to her to make right what she'd done in the past. At his consent, the man turned to leave, to do the vetting that needed to be done. Which left him wholly alone, with the gentle sounds of the machine keeping the broken Maiden alive all that broke the silence.

Resting a hand on the console, he looked at the woman and sighed, feeling the years weigh on him, "I'm sorry I failed you, Amber. I won't fail your successor, though. I swear as much."

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(Review Responses)

Full Metal :

My betas got busy, yeah. This meant that, sadly, I had to vett things out all on my own. Story beats, spelling, etcetera. A second set of eyes does wonders beyond counting for fixing and patching up things. I am looking for new ones on my server, and hopefully that gets BETTER.

The team RWBY chapters are what I presume you are referring to. Those were ALL important, and soon enough, the reasons why will be clear. I just needed to lay out those bricks was all and, without the end context of what they BUILD, it can seem… Well, pointless.

All I can do is ask for a little faith, and thank you for enjoying.

Renextronex :

Glad you enjoyed it!

Talon Ibn La Ahad :

As always, a lot of great ideas that my lawyers have to file away, lol. I write as quick as I can, lol. If you want it faster, you could always pop into the server to Beta it, lol.

Steel Rain :

Well, shit flew alright.

Kaore Ryu :

An egalitarian is someone who treats everyone equally regardless of sex, age, orientation or in the most relevant case, race.

Argus :

I know! It's riveting watching our edgy Dark Side salmon swim against the tide, no?

Mystic Kool-Aid :

*awkward, distant laughing* Y-Yeah, no, I never meme in my stories. >.>

Scrub Lord :

I DESPISE YOU SO MUCH