Remnant - VIII

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Requested By : Gib

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The Atlesian Council Chambers were a wide, round room in the protected, venerable heart of the Congress, with a wide central presentation floor ringed by two rows of comfortable, leather backed seats. The seats were divided by wide entryways built in each of the cardinal directions, with more seating layered above them along the curve of the room, and wide, sleek white stairs built along the diagonal directions. Above each entryway were wider platforms, divided from the rest of the seating area by thick barriers manned by uniformed soldiers. North and South were the Councilors for Atlas and Mantle respectively, while East was reserved for the Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces and the West was reserved for the Commander of the Frontier - which had sat vacant for ten years due to the lack of villages of size enough to vote out in Atlas' frontier.

Though, Argus might change that soon - if Mistral granted them the right to govern it directly.

Today, the audience seats lay empty, their lights dimmed - this was a private hearing, between the Council and one of their military heads.

"Admiral James Ironwood." Councilman Sleet, a middle-aged, dark-haired man representing the interests of Mantle's citizens on the Council's level, said as he came to lean on the concrete railing at the front of his platform. He was a hard man, but spoke softly, for the moment, "I speak for the Council when I express my condolences for what you have lost, and my hopes that you are well."

"I'm not." He answered honestly, trading the convenience for respect for these hallowed halls. "But… I will be, I hope. Once I've adjusted."

"I'm happy to hear that." Sleet nodded, then sighed, and raised his voice, "Then, with that, I call this hearing to order."

"I second the call." The Councilor of Atlas, a small woman named Camilla added from behind Ironwood. "With that, we may proceed. General, as you no doubt suspect already, we have already interviewed your surviving crew and fleet-members. Understand that your testimony will be compared to theirs for discrepancies."

"Of course." Such was only typical - a warning against perjury, as unnecessary as it was when applied to him. "My reports will align with theirs, I am sure. Up to the point I was conscious, at the least."

"Very good." Camilla murmured, her voice projected to audible volumes across the room by the chamber's communications systems. "We will begin with the… Engagement at Menagerie. What happened, Admiral?"

"My standing orders prior to arriving were to engage as per my standard doctrine, with frigates escorting transports to perform a dock landing. The rest of the fleet was ordered to support, as per standard operating procedures." He explained simply, turning so that he could look up at the woman standing and looking down on him impassively. Of all the Councilors, he hated her the most - a woman from wealth buoyed into politics by it.

He let his Aura soothe his emotions and focused.

"As far as I am aware, Councilors, my orders were carried out." He went on, "Then the… Anomalous object attacked us."

"This… So-called anomalous object…" The third Councilor, General Brassheel, was an old, wiry man who wheezed after even those few words. He was bald and pale, and covered in wrinkles and scars. Even so, his green eyes were sharp like razors and his white uniform was pressed and immaculate, with medals polished and gleaming. Quietly, he ordered, "Describe it."

"I did not see it."

"It's effects, then."

"I didn't see those either." He explained simply, "I saw it annihilate our combat ships, but spare our transports. They were even able to evacuate our landed parties, according to what I have been told. The anomalous object must have been wielded by those interested in driving us off, rather than inflicting casualties."

"Odd, for the animals." Camilla offered quietly, "From what I've read, most of their people tend to favor more casualties wherever possible. 'Bleed out the fight', as one prisoner called it."

"Some." Ironwood corrected her simply, "Not most. Some factions of the Faunus resistance do favor blood for blood's sake," and he would not address the tactical applications therein in this meeting, if he could avoid it, "but many fight to win the day and move on."

"Oh?"

"Belladonna's faction is known for this." He pointed out, "Khan's as well, to an extent. Though she favors hostages for exchange. Still, not blood for blood's sake. For that you need those like Raizor Tide's bands. But they are small, raider bands more than militant ones."

"I shall have to take your word for it, Admiral."

"From the point of contact, the conflict only lasted between three and five minutes." Ironwood finished, "I was incapacitated halfway through, I believe. It's all rather… Misplaced, in my head, I'm afraid to say."

"Misplaced?"

"Soldiers lose track when the worst comes." General Brassheel growled lowly, "It happens, and nothing else has been contradictory."

"It is still odd…"

"It is not." The General grunted and coughed, "Let us move on."

"But-"

"I would second the motion." Sleet pressed and cut her off, "If the god general needs to make it a motion at all, that is. The General faces no charges, he's undeserving of any mistrust, Camilla."

"Very well, then." The woman sighed and moved on, clearly displeased at having her line of inquiry cut off so cleanly but more than adult - professional - enough to accept it. James had to give her that, at the very least. "Moving on… I motion to vote."

"Seconded." Sleet grunted, "And I vote for exoneration."

"As do I." Brassheel grunted shortly, "Councilor Camilla?"

"Exoneration." She answered simply, "Admiral James Ironwood hereby stands exonerated of any potential charges of negligence resulting in death, or of negligent application of military assets in the field."

"With that, we move to our second matter."

"Our second matter…?"

"Yes, James." Brassheel grunted, "The matter of my retirement."

"Retirement?!" He gasped and turned to the man, taking a step out of his place before he could stop himself. Gaping yet, he murmured, "Why? If I may be so bold."

"Cancer." The man answered frankly, and forlornly, "Lungs. I have maybe a year. Half that of acceptable health to serve. The military needs new, younger, blood. So, on that note, I move to vote. And I vote to confirm."

Ironwood blinked…

And then felt his heart race as the implications settled in. To vote on replacing the General in Chief required they be present in the meeting, such was the law. And he was the only one here, so that could only mean they intended him for it.

"We need someone to face this crisis immediately, and with full focus. I second." Sleet grunted in agreement, "I vote to deny, however. The Admiral already lost half of himself to the tragedy at Menagerie. We need to know he's mentally stable before we allow so much pressure to fall on his shoulders. War or not, a soldier deserves to recover."

"I vote to confirm." Camilla ended the vote, "He's stable enough, from what I see. I have faith in him, and Atlas' mental institutions as an aside. And as you said, he's given half of himself and yet wishes to stand? I believe we ought to let him."

"Then it is settled." Councilor Sleet nodded, "Admiral Ironwood, you are called upon to serve Atlas' interests of defense and preservation. How do you stand?"

"Honored." And troubled, deeply, to be honest about it all. But if Atlas called… "I will answer the call, Councilor. For Atlas, whatever the cost. Always."

The man nodded and turned as Camilla motioned to end the session and Brassheel seconded it. As they left, Ironwood turned for the door and let his mind and heart race. Him, the General of Atlas' military? Headmaster of its most prestigious Academy? Protector of his entire Kingdom?

It was almost too much…

But for Atlas, he couldn't allow himself to buckle.

Not even for a moment.

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"A whole world of metal…" Kali murmured quietly, leaning back against her fiance's broad chest with his legs to either side of her and watching the sunset. "It sounds so strange."

"Perhaps." Shockwave permitted readily, kneeling in the sea and fishing out loose bits of coral to scan and catalog as he spoke to the two of them. The coral sample was beautiful, with a vibrant purple base that rose up to a fractaling, stiff, flower-like shape that bloomed out in a bright gold pattern. As he scanned and cataloged its internal systems and signature, he went on, "I would point out, however, that a world of grass and fish-filled water is equally a strange to me and my kind."

"Yeah?"

"Indeed." He flicked her a look and then turned back to his amusement, "You're all just so… Soft. It is strange."

"Why is that?"

"It is inefficient." He explained simply, "Dangerous. Any of my kind is physically far superior to yours. I, or one like me, could massacre every living thing on this island with little trouble. So long as it is only a physical contest."

"You'd be surprised what we're capable of."

"I am well aware of this, Ghira." He'd experienced that numerous times, on Earth. Organics were tenacious, often ridiculously so, and had a certain desperate ingenuity and brilliance to them that made them often truly terrifying creatures.

As allies and as enemies alike.

"I wasn't trying to threaten or argue or anything, Shockwave." Ghira rushed to assure him with a chuckle, one arm wrapped around the woman's stomach while the other toyed gently with her hair. "I was just talking."

"Yeah," Kali chuckled, "Ghira doesn't have a mean bone in his body. Threats aren't really his 'thing'."

"I'll remind you I'm wanted in two Kingdoms."

"Because…?"

"Because I'm threatening!"

"Sure, sweetie." The woman turned and leaned up to press a kiss to the man's chin with a smile and then turned back to Shockwave and chuckled. "He thinks he's super scary and intimidating because he's a big boy, but really, he'd rather just garden."

"Garden?"

"I-I like to grow fruit plants." Ghira defended quietly, "They're attractive plants which smell nice, and allow self-sufficiency at the same time. It's exactly the same as hunting or fishing."

"I feel like those are just a bit more… Masculine."

"Plants are masculine!" Ghira defended hotly, though he smiled through it all in the way of someone used to such good-natured teasing. Laughing, the Faunus pushed on to defend himself, "You have to dig and shovel just to plant them, then spend all day slaving in the hot sun to weed them and water them. How is that not masculine?"

"I believe that would be the part where you handle pretty flowers, Ghira." Shockwave offered amiably, to the amused snort of the woman in Ghira's arms. Ignoring the man himself's offended look, Shockwave moved back to the topic at hand, "Cybertron was beautiful, but different. As is your world. As are all worlds, if one takes the time to… Acquire a taste for them, so to speak."

"Have you been to many worlds?"

"Yes, Kali, I have."

"Why do you sound… Less than happy about it, then?" He turned to her, question clear in his cocked head and nflicking spines, and after a moment, she understood and explained. "It's just, you sound like you didn't like traveling. But, I mean… I'd kill for the chance to travel the stars, so I don't understand."

"I did not travel by will." He explained tightly, "I was called to travel. By a war."

"A war?" Ghira's mirth fell as he turned to him and met Shockwave's optic, "What kind of war could things like you fight? I saw how you dealt with Atlas' fleet…"

"You speak to scale." Shockwave murmured, "Ours was planetary. Entire cities taking up arms against one another. Rich against poor, at first. In the early, simple days. A war of rebellion. A war against the oppression of the Primes and their stagnant autocracy. Against their monstrosities…"

"Monstrosities?"

"The last Prime of that age wielded a weapon against our people - and his own." Shockwave explained quietly, "One that ripped the Energon, the very Spark, from their bodies and used it to power his weapons. To power him. That, at last, was the turning point. Even his own fellows would not abide such barbarity and turned against him. With that came victory, at the cost of an entire city - hundreds of thousands of Cybertronian lives, and millions of years of history, wiped out."

"Gods…"

"That's… Horrible doesn't sound like it does it justice." Kali murmured quietly, distantly. He rumbled an agreement and she frowned deeply. "And after that…?"

"War." He answered quietly, standing to the thunder of water falling off of him. As it faded, he turned to them and said, "War among survivors. A war that killed my home. I will not say that I wish to spare you the details. Instead, I will ask you to spare me recounting them."

"Is it that bad…?"

"No," he answered Ghira simply as he came up onto the beach and stood beside them, watching the wind roll through the trees beyond the beach, "it is worse. Mountains built out of genocide. Cities razed. Populations annihilated. The fall of Cybertron was a fall centuries in the making…"

"Gods and tides both." Ghira growled, pressing his face into Kali's hair and sighing. "I can't say I understand all of that, or believe it, even, really. Deep down in my guts. But you went through hell, it sounds like. One I can't imagine."

"Perhaps…"

"And here we are, asking you to fight again…" Kali murmured, turning the cup in her hand and watching the purple wine in it slosh and roll as she did. After a moment, she met his gaze and said, "You don't have to, you know. Fight, I mean."

"Ghira saved my life." Shockwave countered as he turned, "An accord was made."

"You saved Menagerie." Ghira turned it back on him, "You made it right, and then some, Shockwave. We're even."

"Even…"

"You don't have to fight." Kali explained, "Not for us. Ghir saved you, you saved Menagerie. Whatever you do next… That should be up to you."

"I…" He paused to consider, "Have nowhere to go."

"Then don't." Ghira grunted simply and shrugged, "Stay. Find a job of some kind to do, or just… Make whatever you need to survive. Live- I don't know, study the coral? You seem to enjoy doing that."

"I do." He rumbled, thought for a moment longer, and explained as best he could, "Before it all, I was a scientist. Knowledge was- Knowledge is all I have ever sought. Cataloging flora and fauna, studying history and culture as well, these are pursuits to that end. To know."

"Do what you want." Kali summed it all up quite frankly and smiled for it, "It sounds like you know what that is. So, what's stopping you?"

What indeed? He'd fought for millennia, by now, and done enough that if he were capable of it, he was certain his nights would have been filled by terrors. His Spark was no less filled by regret and anger for his liberty from it, however. Now, on yet another strange world, he was aimless and free, bound only by his word and how much he elected to value it. But now, they called the agreement he had made fulfilled…

So why did he not simply leave, and pursue his interests once more…?

He couldn't say, but he knew he couldn't leave. Something compelled him to stay.

"For all their faults…" He rumbled quietly and turned fully to regard them both, "The Autobots were right, in the first war. The war against the old Primes. When one is oppressed, the danger of all of our oppression is absolute. Atlas, and the Humans aligned with their goals, will not stop at your people. Inevitably, now, they will come for me."

"You could vanish." Kali countered quietly, "You could survive out in the Badlands, where no one alive can get to you. And build things that mean that even in the future, no one can. You don't have to fight."

"I do not wish to hide." He answered frankly, "Once upon a time, I chose to fight for my own self-enrichment. I committed crimes that would turn your stomachs, and empty them, all for my own benefit. Mass-death, mass torture… A list so long, to name each Spark silenced, each heart stilled, would take so long as to outlast the years you have on this planet."

"So," he rumbled finally, "I will fight. And finally, I will take up a fight from start to finish for the right reasons…"

And, later, he could return to his studies. When all was done, and the world came to understand something that, after so long, he had finally come to find… Logical.

'Freedom is the right of all sentient beings…'

Perhaps it was time he put that philosophy to the test. In more ways than one.

For science, of course.

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