The Games We Play

DISCLAIMER: This story is NOT MINE IN ANY WAY. That honor has gone to the beautiful bastard Ryuugi. This has been pulled from his Spacebattles publishment at threads/rwby-the-gamer-the-games-we-play-disk-five.341621/. Anyway on with the show...err read.

Informed

For a long, long moment, Cinder faced me with cold eyes. Nothing showed on her face or in the movements of her body, displaying a degree of self-control that still amazed me—by I had senses that went past the purely physical. Beneath the surface, her Aura changed in time with her emotions, displaying them for me as if they were written in bold colors. She was surprised, on one level, but not as much as I might have suspected under the circumstances. More prominent was her consideration, suspicion, and growing wariness.

However slightly, I was making her nervous. Good.

Slowly, Cinder slid her gaze across the room, taking in the faces of the local White Fang leadership. The lot of them had fallen silent when I'd started speaking, hushed by either the weight of my reputation, the accusations I was throwing out, or perhaps a simple, silent agreement. Though I doubted any of them had followed things to quite the conclusions I had, for lack of information if nothing else, I was all but certain that no one here was overjoyed to be taking de facto orders from a human, especially one who was so close-lipped about her own plans.

Sure, from the perspective of the one in charge, making it so that no one had any real idea what was truly going on and that everyone in power working under the bounds of need-to-know information had its advantages—it made it significantly harder for one's enemies to figure out the truth behind one's actions and prevented a single betrayal from deeply harming one's strategies. In reality, however, it can be very difficult to motivate people who don't even know why they're doing something and amongst a group of terrorists and professional criminals, some evidence that this will all pay off in the end was generally appreciated.

But Raven and I weren't sure what Cinder's endgame was, which meant that no one else in the White Fang did, either. Thus far, Cinder's 'alliance' with us was built on promises reinforced somewhat by provided weaponry. But while that might be fine in the short term, as a down payment of sorts, in the long run it just wasn't enough. Because I was pretty much certain that whatever Cinder was planning, it would mean run-ins with Hunter-level combats, especially with her planning to invade Beacon, and while a bunch of armed, angry, and oppressed Faunus were all well and good, everyone at this table knew what would happen if such a force ran into a few dozen Hunters. At best, they're use as a fighting force would spontaneously evaporate. At worst, they would spontaneously evaporate.

So in the wake of my words, no one spoke in protest, and their silence put them on my side of the field—and Cinder knew it. She also probably knew that if she didn't come up with a satisfactory answer right the hell now, her support would disappear, and ludicrously dangerous though she may be, she wouldn't be making use of this much grunt labor if she didn't need to.

She had no choice but to respond and only a few ways to do so. She could try and deny my words, but they were the truth as far as I knew, though the details were still rather finicky. She could try and start something, to perhaps intimidate us, but she'd never do something so vulgar; even if Raven and I hadn't been here specifically to counteract such a thing, it would almost certainly have backfired, because all intimidation aside, you had to be pretty convincing—or at least the help of someone like Raven and a very good rep—to make people too nervous to rat you out when you were a continent away and it would take one phone call to fuck you over in an epic way. Given that, she was more likely to try and assuage our worries and given the fact that I was, hopefully, making her come up with an excuse on short notice, it was likely that elements of the truth would slip in.

"Very well," She said at last. "It was not as though I had any real intention of keeping it a secret from you—"

Lies and damn lies, I thought.

"I simply did not think you would be willing to believe the true scope of my…project, shall we say, until I had provided enough results to convince you of the worth of our partnership." She continued.

"You'll find that I'm willing to believe quite a lot, given cause to do so," I replied. "And I like to keep track of things in motion, to avoid surprises. For the sake of everyone else at this table however, allow me to summarize the basics. Ms. Fall has been in association with one Roman Torchwick, who has been stealing large quantities of Dust within the Kingdom of Vale. Ms. Fall herself has been posing as a student at Haven. Given that, it's rather obvious that she intends to reconvene with her subordinate in Vale during the Vytal Festival, where in a number of students from around the globe shall gather for a tournament. At that time, you will be safely positioned within Beacon itself while Torchwick—presumably, I assume, with our aid—sets things in motion outside of the school. The Dust, Paladins, and weaponry would largely be used on the outside, provoking a reaction for you to take advantage of on the inside. But what is it that you intend to do, Ms. Fall? And, more importantly, why should we care?"

I got the feeling that if Cinder wasn't…herself, she would have been glaring at me, or at least seething internally. Instead, she simply got colder, watching me for a long moment before replying.

"Because by the time I'm done, the White Fang will have an opportunity the likes of which they've never seen," She said. "I can give you Vale."

"Please," I answered, voice droll for all that my heartbeat was beginning to quicken. "Elaborated."

"Once I am inside of Beacon, it will be easy for me to gain access to certain resources nearby," She replied. "At the same time, we'll arrange an attack from the outside, piercing Vale's defenses by using the abandoned tunnels leading into it."

"Mountain Glenn," I realized, though I made sure my tone remained bored. "Yes, an interesting plan of attack, to be sure, but the tunnels in question are quite locked down—Vale was rather eager to see that the Grimm which devoured the city did not have a direct route to the heart of theirs."

"Indeed," She granted. "But I am quite familiar with Mountain Glenn. There's a way through it."

I was silent for a moment, trying to put together what she meant. Had a route been left untouched? No, Vale had taken Mountain Glenn's cleanup seriously—the deaths of thousands of people was wont to do that. I wasn't certain of everything when it came to that place's layout, but it seemed fairly probably that no massive secret tunnels had been left open for any Grimm or terrorist to just wander through. If she wanted to get through, she'd need to make a way out—

Abruptly, I remembered something—the tale of how Mountain Glenn ended. A strange explosion had gone off, opening a passage for subterranean Grimm to invade and slaughter the inhabitants. Normally, I wouldn't have given it much thought, but…

"So that's what you've been gathering all that Dust for," I said, making sure none of my feelings showed on my face or in my voice. "You'll blow a way right into the heart of Vale."

"Yes," Cinder answered.

I took a slow breath, making a show of considering it.

"Interesting," I told her. "But not particularly useful to us. Such an explosion would surely attract the attention of the Grimm—and as it would be my men in a confined space with them, you'll understand if I don't find that overly desirable."

"Which is why the White Fang will be exceptionally well armed for the occasion," She replied. "In addition, we'll be making use of the subway system that connected Mountain Glenn to Vale, which will allow them to stay ahead of any pursuers until they reach the city. Do not forget, my men will be in danger as well."

Because if Torchwick was injured, I'm sure your poor little heart would break. I didn't roll my eyes, but I wanted to.

"And so some number of Grimm shall invade Vale until they are stopped, which they shall be," I said in turn. "Exposing my men to significant danger for minimal reward—wanton destruction and fear have their places as tactics, but unleashing a small horde of Grimm on the city only to watch them die on the blades of Hunters seems like a rather pointless act. Not that I'd particularly enjoy the Grimm overrunning Vale, either; certainly, they don't discriminate against the Faunus, but that's rather meaningless when all it means is that they'll devour any Faunus they find as readily as humans. Our goal is to improve our brethren's situations, after all, and while some fates are worse than death, I do not believe murdering every Faunus in Vale to be remotely called for."

"The Breach is not meant to succeed," She said. "It is merely meant to frighten—certainly you all know the power of fear. The Councilmen of Vale are fools and cowards and as soon as disaster strikes, they will seek to place blame on others."

I didn't actually know any of the Councilmen, but I saw Raven twitch her eyebrows in concession to Cinder's words, so I didn't argue. Instead, I thought of where she would be staying at the time and took an educated guess.

"Ozpin," I answered. "Such a thing would hurt his position."

"Indeed," She agreed. "And they will give his power to another—someone more…controllable and obedient. As it happens, General James Ironwood will be in town for the Vytal Festival."

Ironwood? Was she saying that he was in on this? Nothing I'd gotten off of Ironwood made me think of him as a traitor, but I'd only met him the once and my senses hadn't been what they now were. Even so, it was a bit hard to believe that Cinder had a General in her pocket—if she had that kind of manpower, what would she need our help for? Especially since Ironwood was also a Headmaster and responsible for hundreds of Hunters. But I honestly didn't know the man well enough to say anything for certain.

I may, however, know someone who did, and so I watched Raven for a moment without moving my eyes. Beneath her mouth, she mouthed a simple no.

"Ironwood would never work with either of us," I answered calmly. "And however obedient he may be to the Councilmen, he is also fairly competent."

"True," Cinder allowed. "But he has a weakness that Ozpin does not."

"Oh?" I asked. "And what is that?"

"A dependence on technology," She said.

For a moment, the room was silent, every eye on her. The words themselves were vague, but their implications…

Yes, as the most technologically advanced nation on Remnant, Atlas made great use of their technology. I'm not sure if I'd go so far as to call it a dependency when, truthfully, it was nothing more than an efficient way of doing things given their means. The robots that they used to guard various areas, for instance—while the Grimm would destroy them the same way they would any creation of man given half a chance, the fact remained that they did not, in and off themselves, draw the Grimm. People could attract them through negative emotional states or whatever else drew them in, but while an Ursa would crush an Atlesian Knight if it happened to encounter on in a forest, it wouldn't make a beeline for it.

This allowed for a variety of options, such as arranging chokepoints lined with mobile guns and setting up a defensive perimeter without the risk of a lonely, terrified guardsman setting things off. When it came to things like long-range transportation, Atlesian machines were greatly preferred over practically nay option, because while there was always the risk of an unfortunate run in with the Grimm, it vastly lowered the potential risks. Even in cases that couldn't remove the human element entirely, reducing the number of people simultaneously reduced the number of people attracting monsters and the number of potential casualties.

Given that, it was no surprise that their machines were used all around the world. While none of them were as capable as a trained Hunter, they could be mass produced with relative ease and could serve a role without needing to be drawn away after a week or so. Bolstered further by the actions and size of the Schnee Dust Company, Atlesian technology had spread across the Kingdoms and into every major market.

Which in this case meant…what?

I looked at Cinder for a long moment, wondering where she was going with this. Obviously, she intended to use Atlas' own weapons against it—that much was obvious from the stuff she had stolen thus far. In fact, looking at her, I had something of a feeling that this was her MO; turning people's greatest weapons against themselves. The way she's pretended to be a Hunter, how she's stolen Dust and weapons, and, to an extent, even her alliance with us pointed to that. But if it was Atlas and their technology, how would she do it?

…Ah, I thought after a moment. Wasn't the answer obvious? I'd already thought about the most important factor—Atlas and its robots. They were perfectly loyal to whoever had control of them, unbound by anything like a heart or soul—except in Penny's case, of course. And if you could shift that control into your own hands…

With the breach Cinder had described, with a major terrorist attack and a Grimm incursion in broad daylight, people would naturally be scared—and they'd want to feel safe. Naturally, they'd look to the people in charge to ensure that safety, people like Ozpin and the Councilmen, but as hard as we tried, the fact remained that the safety of the Kingdoms was a tenuous illusion that risked being shattered by something as simple as fearing that it was an illusion. The Council would need to provide proof that was obvious and convincing however false it may have been, and they'd need to do it on a massive scale.

In light of that, odds were good that she was right—they'd likely place Ironwood in charge, because he was better equipped to handle such a thing. While Ozpin, as a badass and the local Headmaster, would have more actual power at his disposal in the form of a large amount of loyal Hunters, said Hunters actually need to, you know, do their jobs. In anything but a worst case scenario, most active Hunters wouldn't be in Vale in the first place; Vale was a 'safe' place and they were out in the danger beyond it trying to keep it that way. Really, there were probably more students at Beacon then there were trained Hunters in Vale at any given time; excluding those who'd survived to retire or who had taken up teaching positions, there were probably only about twenty-five percent of the total Hunters around most days, and that was being optimistic. That number could be ten percent or lower, depending on any number of things. And while they could be called back, it would likely backfire as attacks from the Grimm at the borders caused fear to spread and resulted in a downward spiral. And even beyond that, if you called back every Hunter, it would be hard to truly defend the city in case of an attack. With the size of Vale relative to the amount of Hunters…there was a lot of ground to cover.

No, using the Hunters defensively would be the wrong move.

Using robots on the other hand…sure, they were more of a safety blanket than a true defense, but might have been what was needed—something visible, recognizable, and constant. At the end of the day, the presence of a robot army was probably more reassuring then a bunch of eccentric superheroes that cycled in and out of the city randomly, and if something did happen, it would only take one robot recognizing a threat, or even being taken out, to send alarms up with every other robot in the city, who could then relay orders, direct the civilians, and so on. You'd need a lot of robots to manage such a thing, but with an emergency and with Atlas' cooperation…no, with Ironwood in charge especially…it was possible. Unlike Hunters, saying something like 'I need several thousand more robots' could be answered with more than incredulous looks.

And all the while, you could gather your Hunters and prepare them to respond when the true threat was identified. Several hundred Hunters spread out over nearly as many square miles would create a net loose enough that anyone could slip through—several hundred gathered in one place for the sake of kicking ass would startle and terrify just about anything.

But…that only worked if it was Atlas and Vale who were in control of the machines.

Slowly, I exhaled, making a point of leaning back in my chair and looking away from her.

"So that's it," I mused quietly as I slowly turned my gaze towards her. There were only a few ways you could possibly make something like that work, most of which would be unfeasible at the best of time. But of the few that weren't, the one that would make the most sense for her, based on what I knew of her plans, was the one nearest to Beacon. "The CCT?"

"Hm…" Cinder hummed quietly, her eyes lingering on me for a moment before sliding across the rest of the room. "Indeed, once I'm inside Beacon, I will be close to the CCT that Ironwood is likely to use to control the machines across Vale. When an opportunity presents itself, I will simply sneak inside and ensure that we will be able to take control when the time comes. Imagine—an unquestionably loyal army positioned around the weak points of the city, abruptly under our command. That should be enough to make a difference, no?"

Certainly, even without the ability to challenge them directly, having a gun to the heads of a sizeable portion of Vale would stop any number of Hunters in their tracks. With such an advantage, even a group with the relative weakness of the White Fang could easily oppose something as powerful as a Kingdom with an advantage like that.

It would only be a temporary advantage, though; the White Fang had no real way of maintaining such a tool long term and they'd figure something out to deal with it. But even if it was limited to a single day—hell, a single hour—it would be an hour where the White Fang was capable of doing pretty much anything it wanted. If they chose to, the amount of destruction they could cause in that time frame…and the mere boost in reputation that would follow practically putting their boot on the throat of a Kingdom while so many important and powerful figures were gathered…

I didn't need to be able to sense emotions to know that a lot of the people in the room had become interested. The possibilities were meaningless unless Cinder was capable of delivering, but I had a worrying feeling that she was. And if she could prove it…yeah, I could see why they were tempted. This was a chance for a terrorist group that normally could never hope to challenge the full military might of a nation to kick one in the balls, laugh at them in public, steal their lunch money, and possibly get away with it. No one had spoken yet, partially because they couldn't be sure if Cinder was telling the truth or not and partially out of difference to me, but…

I wondered what I should say, weighing options in my head. I might be able to stop this right now and cut off any potential threat this could pose to Vale, though I'd need a convincing explanation to satisfy the White Fang, especially if Cinder chose to prove she could do what she claimed. Still, I could do it, interfere with such an effort, or whatever else.

But should I? It was a quiet, almost treacherous thought, but not one I could ignore entirely. As I sat calmly, surrounded by people imagining using such an opportunity to their advantage, I imagined myself doing the exact same thing. The situation she described was a dangerous one and I'd need to handle it carefully if I wanted to avoid people getting hurt, but at the same time…

I imagined it. The city's defenses disabled. Its Hunters forced to stand down or else being drawn away.

It looked like an opening. In the worst case scenario, if I was right about Ozpin, such a situation might well be my best shot at confronting him.

That didn't mean I had any intention of going along with Cinder, though. At most I intended to modify and utilize her plans for my own ends, if it became necessary—and to tear them down brutally if it wasn't. There were lies woven all throughout her words and I didn't need my powers to know that she was hiding something from us or that there was more to this then met the eye. She wasn't doing all of this for the sake of placing power in the hands of the White Fang or out of the kindness of her heart; even if she was telling the truth about everything, this was nothing more than a means to an end.

As such, I suppose it went without saying that she would probably stab us in the back the moment it was useful to her.

Note to self—stab her in the back the moment it was useful to me.

"Well," I said with a smile. "Well, well, well. That does sound interesting."