Mastermind

Chapter 6: The Root Of All Evil

It was the sound of the door shutting that alerted Neon Katt to the arrival of her other two squadmates. The feline Faunus stepped out from her and Ciel's shared bedroom to see the two trudge into the main room. Flynt slumped onto the couch and Ciel into one of the two olive green armchairs that had been provided for the students. Neither of them looked pleased with Ciel looking like she was about to fall asleep and Flynt with an annoyed glower on his face. Neon frowned. "Going to guess it didn't go so well?"

Ciel gave a very lazy, half-hearted glare while Flynt nodded, groaning. "It went about as well as could be expected. Luckily, turns out if you just agree with everything she says and act like you're honored to be in her presence, she'll report back to Barbarossa that we all did our job. For once, it looks like her stupidity actually worked out for us, for what little that's worth."

"That's...good."

Ciel suddenly sat bolt upright in her chair, glancing around. "Where is Squad Leader Arc?"

Neon looked uneasy, gripping her left bicep with her right hand and grimacing. "He's…" She trailed off.

"Let me guess, he's still fuming about earlier?" Flynt queried, lifting his trademark fedora to scratch at his head, peering out over the rim of his sunglasses at Neon.

Neon sighed, averting her gaze. "That's...putting it mildly."

"I'll bet. I'm pretty damn certain if I didn't distract Mrs. Marigold, Arc would have bashed her skull in. Don't think I've ever seen him look that angry or…" Flynt shivered. "Murderous."

"I don't think Squad Leader Arc would go that far," Ciel interjected. "...I think."

Neon walked over to the other armchair and sat down, resting her head on the palm of her hand, elbow on the armrest. "He didn't talk the whole way here, and all he told me was that he'd be at the firing range. He's been there for the past two hours…"

Flynt let out a slow breath and shook his head. "It's kinda funny when you think about it. We're all used to this sort of thing. My old man lost his business 'cause of the SDC, Neon's got to deal with racist assholes everywhere, and Ciel is used to having to kiss up to the brass to get anywhere. Arc though...he's not even from Atlas. We all had our lives to get used to this, but he hasn't. How sad is that? He's more pissed off than we are, and we're among the ones directly affected…"

"Maybe that's why." Ciel mused. "We all got used to this; it's normal for us."

Neon frowned. "It shouldn't be."

"Doesn't matter if it should, or shouldn't. It's always been like this." Flynt murmured. "Isn't anything we, or Jaune can do about it."

"What we need is a revolution. Both Faunus and Humans." Neon mumbled, crossing her arms.

Ciel sat up again, expression serious. "What?!"

Neon rolled her eyes. "It was a joke, Ciel."

"It wasn't very funny!"

Neon stuck her tongue out. "Oh, I'm sorry, would it be funnier if I scheduled it?"

Ciel glared back. "That's not funny either!*

"Alright, alright, you two, that's enough." Flynt interjected, cutting off whatever response Neon was about to fire back with. "Neon, that kind of language could really get you in trouble, and I really don't want to see you get in trouble over a slip of the tongue." Neon hung her head momentarily, embarrassed. "And Ciel, relax. We've been a team for three years so far; I'd think you'd know we'd never never seriously consider actually trying to foment revolution...not that it'd work out anyway." Flynt sighed, pulling the lever to recline the armchair back.

"I-I know that!" Ciel responded, her cheeks burning. "I just don't think it's something that should be talked about so casually!"

There was a few moments of silence, then; "Why?"

Flynt looked out from underneath his shades at Neon who'd looked back up him. "Huh?"

"Why wouldn't it work?"

Ciel frowned once more, but before she could speak, Flynt cut her off. "Plenty of reasons. First of all, you of all people should know how hard it would be to get humans and Faunus to get along. Sure, a lot of the military might, but most common folk have been convinced by the upper class that you guys are the enemy, and not them. Then, there's the issue that you'd need someone as a leader for said revolution. General Ironwood holds the loyalty and respect of 99% of the military and Atlas Huntsmen alike, and he's not going to rock the boat anytime soon. Unless someone somehow becomes even more popular than Ironwood and manages to attain the loyalty of the Atlas Military and Huntsmen, revolution would be impossible. On top of all that, the military lives a pretty comfortable life; it's why so many join each year. It's not just patriotic duty that attracts civilians; it's the promise of a more comfortable life for them and their loved ones. Why mess up a good thing?"

"I'm a little disturbed by how much thought you've given to this, Flynt." Ciel murmured, turning her focus to the aforementioned teammate.

Flynt snorted. "Maybe I have, but I haven't heard you coming up with anything to fix things."

More silence; then, in a quiet voice, Ciel spoke up once more. "I joined Atlas Military because I wanted to fix things. The Military holds at least half the power of Atlas, if not more. I know how bad things are, so I decided that I'd climb the ranks through any means necessary and change things from within."

"Don't get me wrong, Ciel," Flynt replied, "It's definitely a good idea, but that's going to take years, maybe even decades, and many more people are going to suffer in the meantime."

"I know," Ciel responded, her tone almost miserable, "but revolution would be just as bad. Imagine the anarchy, the chaos that would arise from such an act. Violence, unrest, anxiety; it's practically inviting Grimm to our doorstep, and that's not even considering what the cost in human and Faunus lives would be."

"Yeah...I know." Flynt sighed once more.

Neon leaned forward, groaning. "There's no easy answer, is there?"

"Nope. That's life, kitten."

"I wonder what Squad Leader Arc would choose…" Ciel mused as she too looked up at the ceiling like Flynt had been.

Flynt rolled his shoulders into lazy circles. "Him? Could go any way. From earlier, revolution might not be something he'd be against. Then again, I don't think he'd approve of something like sedition and fighting against other Huntsmen. Hell, the guy could take a third option and split Atlas altogether after being sick of this bullshit. Not that I'd blame the guy. Hell, if I didn't have family stuck here, I'd probably join him."

Ciel frowned once more. "I can only hope not…"

[Atlas Academy - B4 Firing Range]

Atlas Academy was a very large building. Not only did it house the military, but Huntsman trainees as well. Because of this, it came as no surprise that the massive pyramidal like structure held a multitude of training facilities. Most of the time, they tended to be rather empty after sundown as many soldiers and Huntsmen alike were usually busy either resting from a long day, or busy preparing for one the next morning. Due to safety and security regulations, students were almost never allowed to make use of the firing range without supervision.

Occasionally, a student would be given special privileges to be allowed to make use of the firing range without direct supervision. Jaune just happened to be one of those students. He'd assumed it was a reward for having done so well in class and for being an exemplary student. His father, however, believed it to be Ironwood trying to, "butter him up." It was a way to flatter him by making him feel more mature, and thus foster loyalty to Atlas.

Whatever Ironwood's intentions, Jaune had taken to using the firing range as a sort of stress relief. The methodical routine of practicing with the officer's sidearm helped Jaune forget about whatever weighed heavily on his mind. Homework, team issues, or even social problems; all of these could at least be forgotten about. Today, though, was different. If Winter could see his performance, she would have probably chastised and lectured him about focus and not letting his emotions affect his performance. It was a good thing then, that she wasn't there. Jaune didn't think he had the patience or the nerve to try and act respectful to his unwanted tutor.

Clip after clip of Dust Rounds were spent and while he hit the target, it was all over the place. Finally, he'd given up and after looking at his results in disgust, decided to clean up. His hands worked at stripping the handgun and cleaning it up, and his mind wandered. All day long, all he could think about was that poor man. A man who'd just lost his family. He had a wife. He had children. All gone thanks to the Grimm. An avoidable tragedy that took place because of bureaucracy. Why? What purpose did all the red tape serve? Were they not supposed to be training in order to protect people like that man, to prevent such things from happening in the first place?

Jaune had racked his brain over and over again, trying to figure out why he and his team had spent the day acting as pack mules for a wretch like Mrs. Marigold, when they could have been out protecting that village. He could find no reason. It wasn't even racism; the man was human as far as Jaune could tell. If he'd been a Faunus, at least there was the issue of racism that could be blamed, but this? Human against human?

With a sigh, he looked down at the disassembled firearm sitting under the lamplight. He still needed to oil some of the parts but...he shook his head. It could wait. Now, more than ever, he needed advice. He needed someone who might understand the question that he'd been asking himself over and over again. Why? It might have been under two weeks since he'd last called, but Jaune needed to talk to his father. He walked away from the disassembled firearm and sat down on a nearby bench, opened up his scroll and navigated his way to his contacts list where his father's name could be found. His finger pressed upon "Dad," and he held the scroll up to his ear.

It rang once, twice, a third time and then a fourth. Jaune began to feel despondent when another two rings sounded and his father still hadn't hung up. However, before Jaune could hang up in disappointment, there was a click and then, "Hello? Jaune?"

Jaune paused for a moment then managed to finally catch his voice. "D-dad?"

"Hey, Jaune!" Alexander answered, his voice warm and cheerful. "It's good to hear from you again. How is everything?"

"I…" Jaune trailed off, trying to figure how to put his experience into words.

"Jaune?" His father, ever in tune with the behavior of his children, sounded worried. "Is everything alright?"

Jaune took a deep breath. "No. It's not. I...I saw a man lose everything today."

Alexander fell silent for a few moments. When he spoke again, his voice was deep. "I see. What happened?"

With shuddering breath, Jaune explained everything, from hearing the man imploring Barbarossa for aid and being thrown out, to his disastrous mission 'guarding' Abigail Marigold and seeing the man losing his family, knelt in the snow. When he'd finished, Jaune could feel his entire body tensing, in anger and in frustration. "I don't get it! Why? Why are we having to guard someone like her when there's people who need our help more?!"

It was Jaune's father's turn to sigh deeply and Jaune could practically hear his father rubbing the bridge of his nose the way he did when he was at a loss for words. Then, he heard something from his father that Jaune never thought he would have heard given the topic of conversation: laughter. Jaune began to start in anger at his father's reaction, but his words died on his tongue when his father spoke once more. "I was hoping you would never see that side of Atlas. I guess James wasn't as cautious as I thought he'd be. Or maybe he thought you were loyal enough to Atlas to overlook this nonsense."

"What?"

Alexander drummed his fingers on something, the sound coming over the line. "Why? I'll tell you, Jaune. It all boils down to money."

"Money? How?"

"Easy. The man you saw was probably from outside of Atlas, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Don't tell me, Atlas has programs in place in order to protect their civilians on the outside of the city itself, right?"

"Well, yeah-"

"Which requires paperwork to be 'ratified,' which coincidentally can take anywhere from weeks to even months, which by the time it's finished, the village in question is already wiped off of the face of the map, right?"

Jaune's voice was hesitant, almost shaky. "I-I-"

"I know, Jaune. That's why James and I had been out of touch with each other for a few years. This isn't just something recent, Jaune. This is Atlas politics at its ugliest. The true face of what old money and greed can do to a people."

"I don't get it!" Jaune cried out, pausing when he heard his voice echoing through the empty shooting range. He glanced around, but he was still alone.

"Alright. Let me break it down. See, what would happen if one of these new villages actually stumbled upon a new vein of Dust, or material wealth?"

A pause, then, "Well, I guess that would be a good thing for the village then, right? They could sell off the Dust or material and grow, couldn't they?"

"Absolutely. Depending on how much said village could find and dig up, they could eventually grow to become a rival for one of the old families. See, the Schnees, the Marigolds, all of those families have a virtual monopoly on their resource of choice, and when you have a monopoly, you don't take too kindly to having rivals. Of course, it's impossible for them to stop villages from springing up by force, so they do the next best thing. They make sure those frontier villages don't get the protection they need from the ever encroaching Grimm."

"How?! Wouldn't General Ironwood-"

"-stop them?" Jaune fell silent, and his father continued. "Jaune, if there's one thing you need to know about James, if there's anything you will listen to me about regarding him, it's this. James is a great man. He's an even greater general, but he is a shit politician. James has, and always will, place security and safety over the freedom and happiness of his people. The reason the Atlas military is so technologically advanced and vast is for one simple reason. James holds two seats on the Atlas council, which makes him very valuable to the wealthy families looking to pass draconian laws to keep anyone from ever threatening their iron grip over resources. James votes in favor of the families, and coincidentally the beneficiary in question decides to just 'randomly' donate vast quantities of resources and Lien to the cause. It makes them look patriotic, James can use that toward shoring up the military and the civilians suffer. They're safe, but you only need to look to the Lower Quarter to see how bad things are there."

"That doesn't make any sense! People are dying!"

"I know." Alexander suddenly sounded tired, and for the first time, Jaune swore he could hear the age in his father's voice. "I've argued up and down with James for the longest time over that, hoping that I could change his mind. To him, it's a small price to pay to protect those within Atlas' walls. In his mind, those who die outside the village do so at their own volition. The fact that there's even a legal process to theoretically send you all out to protect them is just for appearances. This has been going on before you were born Jaune, and I fear it will simply continue."

Jaune fell silent. Both he and his father spoke nothing as Jaune tried to make sense of it all. His hand clenched tightly at his side and it was all he could do not to break out into tears at the unfairness of the situation. "What...what do I do then?"

Alexander sighed again. "That's not something I can tell you, Jaune. That's for you to decide. You're old enough to start making some of your own choices. You can take the lawful route and work with Atlas to change things from within. It's slow and you'll see much more corruption, but maybe you could be the one to break things. Or you can finish your education at Atlas and move on to Beacon and leave Atlas to its own devices. Whichever choice you make, do so knowing that you have my support. I wish I could tell you that you could change things now, but politics is an ugly beast, and there's no easy answer."

"I...couldn't there be some sort of revo-"

"Jaune." Alexander cut his son off once more, his voice now stern. "Don't speak of such things. Atlas takes such talk seriously and I don't even think James would cover for you." He paused, then added, "Besides, things would have to get even worse for that to happen, and James has managed to keep a baseline going. Like it or not, this is the way things are in Atlas. I was hoping more than anything that perhaps James had a change of heart, or at the very least, would have tried to keep such things hidden from you, but…" He trailed off.

"So...there's nothing I can do?"

"I'm afraid not, Jaune. Such is the way of things. If you want to change the status quo, you need to focus on yourself at the moment. Focus on your studies, on your combat training. Make connections with your schoolmates and whoever will take you seriously. Most importantly, start thinking about your future, about what you want to do. Will you stay with Atlas, or go onto Beacon?"

Jaune slumped in his seat, feeling suddenly very tired. "A-alright."

"I'm sorry, Jaune. I wish you never had to deal with this."

"I know, dad. It's just...it's not fair."

"Life rarely is, Jaune. It's how we deal with that unfairness that matters..."

A/N: Update. Check author page for more detail. V6 is great so far, but I'm worried JNR is getting shafted due to the constant bitching and whining from the haters.