Replaceable Parts: Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Brilliant Lights

Ozpin preferred boring Vytal festivals.

“And that is when Roman Torchwick and his unnamed accomplice absconded?” he asked.

In front of him, Taylor Steele nodded. “After that, the rest of…team RWBY, right? Returned to Beacon with me on the bullhead transport while the Atlas security forces secured the remains of the Paladin for transport.”

Unfortunately, this festival looked too interesting already.

Ozpin covered his disquiet with a sip of coffee from his mug. “Any other questions, James?” he asked. The projection of James Ironwood’s face flickered on his desk holo. Wonderful things, scrolls. Incredible how far the technology had come in so short a time.

“Agent Steel,” James said. “Why did you not immediately return to Beacon with the package as ordered?”

“Sir, I immediately moved to secure Miss Polendina’s safety,” she replied. “When I investigated the disturbance and found it to be a rogue Atlesian Paladin, I judged that I had to intervene.”

James did not look satisfied. “That was not my question, Agent.”

“Those engaging the Paladin at the time were Beacon students.” The young Miss Taylor, on the other hand, still appeared perfectly composed. “Letting them face it alone was unconscionable. Instead of sending yet another student to fight your military hardware, I sent her back to Beacon with Penny and handled the Paladin myself.”

“An astute choice.” Ozpin leaned back. “Miss Rose has shown herself to be quite fond of Miss Polendina, despite the short time they’ve known each other, and saw her back to Beacon without ruffling a hair on her head.”

James grunted. “Oz, I let you run your people however you want, but insubordination from Atlesian military personnel is not acceptable.”

Miss Steele turned her gaze toward the projection at last. “Then dismiss me,” she said.

James huffed. “We agreed that your placement as an agent of Atlas would offer you the most latitude as long as you followed orders and—”

“And I agreed to follow lawful orders, Sir.” For the first time, Taylor shifted her stance, letting her arms fall out of parade rest. “There are laws about sending trainee hunters into danger, aren’t there, Sir?”

James grunted.

“How did the rest of team RWBY perform against this Paladin?” Oz asked.

She shrugged. “Well enough. If his accomplice didn’t interfere, they might have been able to escape without my help.”

And perhaps the full four of them would have been able to triumph, Oz mused. But he agreed that risking students unnecessarily was not an acceptable outcome. A more callous, hardened, part of him also preferred that the girl with silver in her eyes be kept away from war machines until she was ready.

He strove to be better than that part of him.

“If you prefer, I’m sure we can manufacture an excuse to transfer Miss Taylor to Vale,” Ozpin said.

James sighed. “I need soldiers who do what I tell them to, Oz.”

“And you have plenty of them, I should think.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Now you even have robots who jump without orders and land without complaints. There are more important metrics than loyalty, old friend.”

James still appeared discomfited by the notion, but he set it aside. “If no one else sees the problem, then I’ll table my objections for now, if only because Agent Steele properly assessed your student’s character.”

“Miss Rose is a simple soul,” Oz said. “She is quite incorruptible.”

James didn’t reply.

“I believe that is all we need from you tonight, Miss Taylor.” Oz pushed up his glasses. “Unless there is something you with to bring to our attention.”

“There is,” she said. “The girl with Torchwick had an illusion semblance.”

“As you mentioned,” he replied.

“Have you…read the report on semblance-based infiltration that I submitted to the Atlesian Armed Forces?” she asked.

Ozpin hummed. “I do not believe I have. James?”

“I read the brief.” James glanced to the side, no doubt pulling something up on another screen. “Ah. At the time, the upper brass agreed with my assessment that such…’master stranger’ semblances were rare enough to not require their own doctrine.” He looked back towards the office. “The answer to a Huntsman is a Huntsman, and they don’t take well to standardized rules of engagement.”

“Even your vaunted specialists require their specialized equipment,” Oz mused. James nodded.

“But now that the enemies have shown that they have a stranger, we should implement something here,” Taylor said. “More than just static illusions, she also changed the color of her eyes several times during our fight. If she’s able to alter people’s appearances…”

Ozpin frowned. “That could allow for a larger group to infiltrate our facilities, especially during the festival.”

“So many new faces,” Glynda Goodwitch spoke up for the first time. She stepped away from the window, her own square lenses flashing in the light of the hologram. “We have security procedures for the festival, but things always slip through the cracks. Normally, that is acceptable, but this year…”

Ozpin did not look towards the elevator doors that lead to his office. Perched at the top of Beacon Tower, he sometimes thought that he could look out the windows and see everything from the cliffs down to the sea. More and more, however, it was clear that he could see nothing at all. Their sight was clouded by the enemy, and she was making use of that blindness.

“Please forward that report to me,” Ozpin said. James nodded. “Was there anything else, Miss Taylor?”

She paused looking towards the window. “How did they get the Paladin?”

“Ah yes. James?” Ozpin asked.

The man on the monitor frowned. Combined with the grey at his temples, it made him look older. Oz still remembered when Colonel Ironwood’s hair was a uniform black. Then he’d been promoted.

“All of the Paladin models we brought with us for the demonstrations are accounted for,” he said. “There’s been no sign that the storage facility has been accessed.”

“So it must have come from Atlas.” Oz frowned in turn. “Stealing something that large from Atlas itself and shipping it across the sea, all without being detected? How vexing.”

“I have people looking into it. Once they find something, I’ll let you know,” James said.

Taylor took in a fortifying breath. Ozpin looked back at the young woman. She met his gaze almost anxiously, and he nodded.

“It sounds like an inside job,” she said.

James paused, eyes off the screen.

“It would almost have to be,” Miss Taylor continued, words almost tumbling over each other. “Moving something that big, even if you could steal a Paladin, how would you stop that from being reported? They’re so new each component is tracked individually from production to assembly. Maybe someone could still sneak the parts out, but that just means someone leaked the schematics Torchwick or his associates.”

James cursed softly under his breath. “I hadn’t wanted to consider it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, no, you’re right, Agent. It does sound like we’ve been compromised, and if my internal investigation yields nothing, that will all but confirm it. But who? And to sell it to White Fang terrorists?” He shook his head.

“Torchwick isn’t a Faunus,” Taylor said. “And according to Blake Belladona’s account, he was openly racist on stage at their rally.”

Ozpin leaned back in his chair. “What do you think that suggests, Miss Taylor?”

She sighed. “I’ve worked in gangs before, like I told you.”

“Indeed,” Oz sighed. “It’s a pity we haven’t yet had the time to go over the history of your world. No dust, no creatures of the Grimm? How fascinating.” Glynda jabbed him in the side with her riding crop, and he coughed. “Ah but don’t let me distract you.”

Taylor coughed once. “Yeah, well. Gangs don’t work together like this. Especially not racially motivated gangs.”

Ozpin leaned forward. “How did you have gangs along racial divides if everyone on your world was human?”

She paused, looking around the room and seeing all three people interested in the answer. “…Skin color.”

“Skin color?” Oz sat back. “That seems a bit…inane.”

“Yeah.”

“Were you in one of these…skin color motivated gangs, Miss Taylor?”

“What?” She shook her head. “No, of course not.”

Oz hummed. “Well, it’s good you avoided that, I suppose.”

“Anyway.” Taylor took a breath. “There were only two times I saw groups like this working together.”

“Groups like what?” James asked. “Torchwick and the White Fang are both criminals. Ideology aside, they share a singular motivation.”

“Do they?” Taylor raised an eyebrow. “Thieves and zealots don’t get along. A lot of times they hate each other more than they hate the authorities.”

James grunted, but Ozpin saw the truth in that. Law enforcement, even Hunters, were external variables to be worked around. They had rules, and criminals could work around those rules. But another group of criminals with whom one shared no rules were a much more difficult obstacle.

“They only times you get them on the same side is in the face of an overwhelming external threat, or…” She paused. “When someone else is backing both groups.”

“If the rest of your supposition is true, how would they share a backer?” James asked.

At that, Taylor spread her arms. “I don’t know. I don’t know the local politics; I don’t know the players. It could be someone high up in the Fang hired Torchwick to work with the local cell. It could be a third party that has something both sides want.”

Glynda narrowed her eyes. “But less a unifying factor, the White Fang wouldn’t share a Paladin with a common criminal.”

“And this Roman Torchwick is more the type to sell of a Paladin to the highest bidder and wash his hands of the whole affair.” Oz steepled his fingers. “He was quite allergic to scrutiny…before his most recent string of dust robberies.”

“I will contact the Vale law enforcement,” Glynda said. “And see if that change coincides with any change in the behavior of the White Fang.”

Oz nodded. “Meanwhile, James, it seems as though you have your own investigation to conduct.”

“And my own house to clean,” the man replied. “I’ll forward you the report as well.”

“My thanks.” Ozpin sighed, leaning back once again in his chair. “You’ve given us quite a lot to think about.”

“There’s a reason you invested in me,” she replied.

“An external perspective is worth ‘investment,’” Oz replied. “Now, unless there is another revelation you wish to share…”

Taylor took the dismissal for what it was, giving a brief salute towards the holographic display before disappearing down the elevator.

In the following silence, Ozpin tapped a finger against the rim of his mug. Glynda returned to the window, pulling out her own scroll to contact the Vale precinct. James did not move, staring off to the side in deep thought.

“What do you think of her?” Ozpin asked.

James shook his head, straightening. “She’s still insubordinate.”

“Good soldiers are easy,” Glynda said. “Good thinkers are harder.”

“And she did give us a lot to think about,” Ozpin added.

“She works well with Polendina’s girl.” James looked off to the side. “We’ll see if her insights bear out.”

“Beyond that.” Oz looked up at the ceiling, where the gears of Vale tower turned. “What do you think of her temperament, her ability? Not as her commanding officer.”

“Why ask me then?” James’s voice was rueful.

“You have a knack for picking out talented individuals,” Ozpin replied. “Your current group of specialists, for instance. I want to know how our guest from another world measures.”

“She’s a poor fighter, but learning quickly,” James replied. “A useful semblance for us, and rare.”

“Not many individuals see their deepest selves as something so dispersed.” Ozpin tapped his chin. “It appears she was correct in her ability to face down those new automatons of yours.”

James nodded. “She has the highest aura levels I’ve ever seen in someone her age. And I think this incident proved that she’ll always do what she thinks is correct, regardless of the consequences to herself. That attitude never would have survived basic training.”

Oz held back a sigh. Some cultural beliefs could not be changed by anything so simple as a war.

“But despite that…she believes in the mission.”

“Does she?” Oz asked. “How odd.” As a complete unknown, Taylor Steele had been brought slowly into the small conspiracy to protect Remnant, in large part due to her drive and her usefulness. It was one thing, when lost in a strange land, to attach yourself to an influential group. Taking on their beliefs was quite another.

“The girl investigates. She asks questions. She never stops watching,” James said. “But ever since she put together what we’re doing, why we’re doing it…she’s been as relentless in her tasks as Qrow, and much easier to work with.”

Glynda huffed. “That’s saying something.”

James coughed to cover his grin. “Our problems aside, it’s good we took a chance on her.”

Oz sipped his tea. It had been a surprise, to find a broken girl curled up in Beacon’s Sanctum Sanctorum, deep below ground. It had been even more surprising to hear her story. After living for so long, Oz thought that he had seen all the wonders of the world, and watched them bleed out of it.

He found it heartening that he was wrong.

“Helping the helpless is its own reward.” Ozpin picked up his mug, pausing in dissatisfaction as he found it empty. “For example, Glynda, my coffee.”

“Fetch it yourself.” She sniffed.

Ozpin smiled. “Yet more insubordination.”

James laughed.

“Now,” Oz continued. “Since this Miss Polendina of yours has formed a connection with one of my students, should she not join normal classes?”

“For security reasons—”

“Yes, but what about personal ones?” Oz turned to look at the projection. “I admire the brilliance of your scientists, but you cannot create a living person if you are afraid to let them grow.”

James sighed. “Helping the helpless, was it?”

“I would never call Miss Polendina helpless,” Oz replied. “But it seemed to me that she would enjoy more time with her new friend. That is something we can afford to her.”

“I’ll consider it,” James said. “If her safety can be assured.”

“I shall write up a plan as soon as I read this lovely report our world traveler has compiled.”

James shifted, good hand coming up to massage the place where his metal arm met his torso. “I should as well, if I can find the time between the investigation and ensuring the security of the remaining Paladins.”

Ozpin allowed himself the ghost of a smile. “It appears we all have a busy night ahead of us.”

“Welcome to the Vytal Festival.” The hologram winked out.

“And what do you think of her performance tonight?”

Glynda slipped her scroll away. “Steele performed above expectations, and worked to remove our students from the combat zone. If only the rest of team RWBY were as discerning.” She fixed him with a hard look.

Oz chuckled. “I assume you want to deal with the aftermath of this little escapade?”

~  ~*

“Man, this sucks.” Yang kicked her feet up on the stainless table, boot heels clanging against the metal. Her chair squeaked dangerously with each unconcerned shift. “Save downtown Vale from a rampaging supervillain, and we get thrown in the clink?”

Weiss pinched her brow. “Would you stop with that, already?”

“Gotta stay relaxed during interrogation,” Yang replied.

“This isn’t an interrogation,” Blake said. Golden eyes flickered as they tracked the contours of the room. A long table, four chairs, and a door that wasn’t even locked.

“How d’you figure?” Yang asked. She pulled up her legs, front legs of her chair hitting the floor with a bang that made Weiss jump and Blake twitch.

“You split people up for interrogations, so they can’t corroborate their stories.”

Yang tilted her head. “It could be like…a bad interrogation.”

Weiss turned a frozen glare on her teammate. “I hardly think—”

The door slammed open, and all three girls were halfway out of their chairs by the time they recognized Deputy Headmistress Goodwitch.

“You hardly think, Miss Schnee?” She looked the three of them over, green eyes glinting. “That would explain your actions tonight.”

“Hey.” Yang frowned. “We took down the baddie, didn’t we? Barely even needed Miss Atlas’s help, even.”

“Indeed.” Goodwitch came to a stop in front of them. She didn’t use the chair. “But did it occur to any of you that you could have had much more help, if you’d thought to ask for it?”

The three girls shifted in their seats. “W-we were told not to investigate,” Weiss murmured.

“I see. So the three of you decided to break the law, and then pretend to follow our advice?”

Blake stood. “You weren’t taking the White Fang seriously!”

Glydna slammed her crop down on the table, sending all three girls back into their seats, silent.

“Sometimes,” the woman said. “People in positions of authority make mistakes. We are all human. In the future, should you once again encounter proof that you are right, and we are wrong, I hope you will bring it to our attention.” Goodwitch met all three of their gazes in turn. “Hunters work in teams for a reason, ladies, but to not forget that your Kingdom stands behind you. We stand behind you.”

Weiss nodded. Blake looked down, away.

“Wait…” Yang asked. “So you’re not upset we crashed a White Fang rally?”

“I am incandescently furious, Miss Xiao-Long, so I suggest you keep your mouth shut for the next several minutes.”

Yang zipped her lips.

Professor Goodwitch sighed, straightening. “I had a very similar conversation with your team leader, before she came to Beacon.”

Yang opened her mouth. Glynda’s eyes narrowed, transfixing her in place.

Yang closed her mouth.

“It appears,” Goodwitch continued. “That she was the only one with the good sense to contact local Hunters, and avoid yet another incident of rampant property damage. Since that conversation worked on her, I will be using the same approach.”

She reached behind her back and produced a plateful of chocolate chip cookies, setting it on the table in front of them. Little wisps of steam rose from the soft golden brown dough the moment she removed released her semblance.

Yang swallowed. “Are the…cookies poisoned?”

“Why don’t you try one, Miss Xiao-Long.” She pushed the plate towards Yang with the tip of her crop. “I insist.”