Destiny No More

Chapter 43

General Ironwood sat patiently in front of Ozpin's desk, waiting for the man to finish pouring them both a cup of coffee. He had wanted nothing more than to discuss his findings in Mistral from the very moment that he had landed, but there hadn't yet been the opportunity.

At first it had been because they weren't alone, the landing pad instead turning into a reunion of sorts. While it was nice to see friends and family reunited, it had given Ozpin a good reason to avoid the conversation. Once they were alone walking through the halls of Beacon, that excuse had become that a student could be listening in at any moment and, while the wait was irritating, Ozpin was right.

On the elevator ride up however, James knew they were safe. Ozpin's tower, and especially his office, were among the most secure places in the world. Their isolation, the difficulty to get to them, combined with some of the best security technology that Atlas had to offer meant that they should have been able to speak openly the moment the doors closed.

Instead, Ozpin had insisted they get a drink first.

James clenched his jaw slightly, feeling a phantom itch on his hand. He'd had his engineers look at it countless times, but they had always assured him that there was no mechanical issue causing it. He'd only ever noticed it when something was wrong, but he couldn't quite place how or why. He'd noticed it when Ozpin had first told him the truth about Salem, a revelation that came only a few short days after he'd had his cybernetics installed.

Ozpin reached across the desk, offering him a cup. James forced himself to smile as he took the mug and set it gently on the edge of the desk. He couldn't place what was wrong, but something was off with Ozpin. Unfortunately, the man had more experience hiding his true thoughts on a subject than any other person alive, so deciphering what he was thinking was a futile effort. Instead, he simply focused on what he did know.

"Lionheart has left Mistral in a precarious position." James stated, sitting back slightly in his chair. "You've read my report on the situation?"

"Yes, I have." Ozpin took a long drink from his cup, a time stalling tactic he usually reserved for those he either wished to intimidate or to give himself time to think. "The loss of Huntsmen will be a burden on the next generation while they attempt to recover their numbers."

"Mistral's Council plans to expand their military, perhaps we can use that to our advantage." James replied, it was a topic he had struggled to decide how to bring up. "If they adopt a similar style as Atlas, then we may be able to tell them about Salem."

"Assuming whoever is placed in charge could be trusted." Ozpin, as always, looked for any way to devalue conventional military power.

"It worked in Atlas." James did his best to assure him. "If we could get another Kingdom's resources set on finding and defeating Salem, then shouldn't we at least consider it?"

Ozpin stared back at him for a moment, his lips a thin line as he thought of his next words. "How long do you think it will take them to build up their military to be equal to that of Atlas?"

"I would need to discuss that with some of my men back in Atlas. They would have a better view on Mistral's cap-"

"Humour me." Ozpin interrupted him.

James scowled softly. "I don't know if they'll ever rival Atlas, but within a few years they might very well be able to make up for the lost Huntsmen. Especially if we help them reach that goal."

"All of that would be unnecessary if Atlas' forces weren't fleeing the continent." Ozpin hid his face behind his hands.

"That choice wasn't my own." James answered carefully. "You know that, I said so in my message. Mistral wanted my forces out, I had no say in it."