The cruiser still needed a lot of duct tape, paper clips, and bubblegum before she'd be airworthy again, but Nicho could at least say that his team had made the ship both defensible and useful. The machine shop hardly ever stopped running with the seemingly never-ending punch list of projects to repair damaged hardware and improve the ship's systems. Silent defenses were a big one for the engineers tasked with developing Grimm countermeasures. Most of the work done on the ship was internal, which thankfully meant that the operatives didn't draw much attention from the local denizens, but every gunshot ran the risk of drawing more curious critters into the work site.
Spears were crafted for operatives on perimeter defense, and a small application of fire dust allowed the defenders to superheat their blades before engaging an intruder. Slingshots would silently draw the attention of the Grimm and cause it to lumber into the cruiser's gaping wound where a waiting squad of spearmen could quickly dispatch it. Nicho OK'd the construction of a small ballista when the engineer who proposed it promised he could get the weapon rigged up in only three hours. Volt still had twenty minutes before the clock ran out, and the Lieutenant was actually impressed with the progress made on the weapon when he took a break from his work in the machine shop and walked around to check on his crew.
Repairs to the ship's power systems were also underway. The engines were still shot to hell, as the engineering team had originally surmised, but the central power plant didn't suffer quite the same fate. One of the teams had discovered a large chunk of lightning dust towards the back of the cruiser that was housed in an impressive containment cell and rigged up to several power conduits. Though the crystal was cracked in some areas, Nicho's bio ops confirmed that it still carried a potential charge. A cursory inspection of the power cables showed them to be mostly unharmed, so Nicho dedicated a team to restoring power to the sections of the ship that had been cut off from the main reactor during the crash.
"Lieutenant, this is Poncho. Power rigging team is all set for a dry run of the system."
Given that the third major project team had just reported in with news that the comm array was ready to go live, Poncho's team had good timing. Nicho sat down in one of the few remaining seats on the command deck and briefly entertained the thought that he was the ship's captain while he answered the radio.
"Sounds good, Sergeant. All personnel, be advised that a power test is about to begin. Take appropriate safety precautions until I give the all-clear."
A chorus of affirmative's echoed over the short-range comms, and Poncho took his cue to start the test. Almost immediately, the dim lighting on the command deck flickered and grew brighter. The cracked console to his left quietly hummed as its display slowly sputtered to life. A few seconds later, the energy in the room vanished.
"Sorry about that. Minor hiccup. Give us a minute."
If this worked and restored primary power to the ship, Poncho could take all afternoon if he needed to.
"Fair enough. All personnel, you may resume working until the Sergeant announces that the power testing is back on track."
Nicho tinkered with the console to get it working better while he waited for the power team to make their fixes. He had to admit, Atlas did a great job of designing all of their hardware look sleek and streamlined. He could imagine being a cadet in the Atlas military, taking a sense of pride in the technological advances of his kingdom. Still, the pristine feel of the glossy-white casing looked almost fake when the Lieutenant compared it to the acrid, melted surfaces of the consoles and flooring that didn't survive the bridge fight against the commandos.
"You'd think that the best military on the planet would prioritize function over form…" Nicho muttered as he pulled a ruined panel off of the side of his console and examined the machine's internals, "I guess the Engineer's Plight isn't just limited to Earth."
"We're ready to go live again. Main power is coming on in three… two…"
A weighty hum spread through the bridge, and bright lights bloomed on the bridge once more. Nicho identified a couple of sparking wires inside his console and made a note to tinker with them later. For now, though, the damage to the screen wasn't bad enough to make the station unusable. The Lieutenant carefully tabbed through several menus and folders while the various engineering teams chattered in the background.
"Power output stable. Still a lot of room for improvement, but at least we're getting somewhere."
"Volt?" Nicho asked, "How are we looking topside?"
"Comm array just got a pretty large boost to its output. We were practically running on fumes with the auxiliary power."
Looked like Project Number Three was a success. While most of the communication equipment on the ship was located on the belly of the cruiser and damaged during landfall, Nicho's crew found some antennas and wiring in the repair bay that could be co-opted into a radio array. It helped that Samuelson was one of the commsat engineers from the Long War days, and so his expertise proved invaluable in getting a system up and running. They'd been setting up shop on the cruiser's roof throughout the day, and had reported in as tentatively ready about an hour before Poncho's power posse turned on the lights.
"Anything interesting?" The Lieutenant asked. He continued to tab through the sub-menus, though most of them didn't mean too much from a cursory inspection. He'd likely have to spend some time really digging into the ship's systems before getting anything out of it.
Volt didn't answer for a few moments while his team tried to interpret the signals coming in. "Looks like we still can't reach Vale, unfortunately. I'm sure we'd be hearing a lot more chatter otherwise."
Unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected. Oh well, at least they'd be listening if someone came knocking-
"Hold up. Sam thinks he's got something."
Nicho stopped scrolling through the main cannon's firing solution subroutine and waited for Volt to continue.
"The airwaves all look dirty to me, but our boy has a 'hunch,' whatever that means."
"Explain, if you don't mind." Nicho powered off the terminal and started to walk towards the bridge's roof access
"It's in the lower range, sir." Samuelson began, "There's a spike of energy at one of the lower bandwidths. It's small enough to blend in with the background energy, but it's… uh… interesting."
"Interesting in what way?" The Lieutenant started climbing the ladder that led to the roof hatch as Samuelson hesitantly continued.
"It's… uh… well, there's a larger bump that's flanked by two… umm… smaller ones. And-"
Volt, growing impatient with the engineer, cut him off, "It looks like a cock and balls, sir. Centered on the 69 MHz bandwidth."
"It's a what on a fucking what?" Nicho asked as he popped the hatch behind the comm team.
"You heard me, boss." Volt said, turning around with a grin, "And I think you know as well as I do that that subtle dick jokes are the calling card for one of XCOM's most infamous Engineers."
"Mac, you son of a bitch." Nicho breathed, hovering over Samuelson's shoulder to see for himself, "Is that all there is to it?"
Samuelson shook his head, "I don't think so. Mac wouldn't go through all that trouble for nothing. It's probably there to catch the attention of anyone who might be paying attention. I'm trying to figure out what message he's broadcasting, but it's taking some time."
"What do you mean? Don't we just dial into that frequency and listen?" Sometimes, Nicho wished that he'd spent a little more time with the signal processing crews rather than focusing all of his efforts in Shen's manufacturing bay. The craftsmanship skills came in handy, sure, but there was a lot more to engineering than just lathes and TIG welders.
"He's hiding the message, sort of like how he hid the message's location." Samuelson explained. He flipped a toggle, made a couple of keystrokes, and the digital readout changed from a bandwidth spectrum to a moving wavelength, "I'm trying to figure out how he encoded it."
"Can we look for another johnson?"
The other engineer snorted, "I wish. But not this time, unfortunately. Though I think…" Samuelson trailed off as he watched the screen. Nicho had no idea what he was looking for, but he could tell Sam was getting excited, "Yep, that'll do it."
As Samuelson fiddled with the controls, the signals on the screen coalesced (almost magically, to Nicho's untrained eye) and formed a new pattern. Unlike the old noise, however, this pattern looked sharp and defined.
"Motherfucker took his message and broke the signal into asymmetrical packets." Samuelson said, a mixture of awe and frustration in his voice, "You have to take the average of the signal over a long period for it to come back into focus. Looks like Morse."
So first he hides the message with a dick joke, then he encodes it by scattering the signal, and then he uses a communication protocol that the people of Remnant had never heard of. "Looks like somebody really didn't want this message to get into the wrong hands. I'm guessing you know how to translate Morse?"
Samuelson nodded. "Yeah… it also helps that the message is pretty simple."
"Well?" Volt asked, voicing the impatience that Nicho shared, "What's it say?"
"Amity."
As expected, the first part of the extraction operation proved to be the most difficult. Moving the injured (and paralyzed) without detection from the Grimm was an exercise in caution and patience, and while Ruby was far less restless now that she'd reunited with her sister, she still didn't wasn't a fan of the waiting game. The group had considered using Ruby's superior speed to draw the attention of the Grimm away from the evacuation team, but Ren pointed out that agitating the monsters might trigger another run on the various safe zones scattered across Vale. So carefully evading contact with the enemy and leaving them to wander aimlessly around the halls of Beacon became the plan of action, and Ruby grudgingly acknowledged the wisdom behind it.
Going slow had its benefits, however. The wounded and their attendants would have been a burden on the group in a fast-paced exfiltration, but they had no difficulty keeping up when Ren and Orryn signaled for a halt every few minutes. Blake checked in on the group when the rescue team first made contact with JNPR and Yang, but explained that she needed to make her way back the cruiser team stranded in the opposite direction of Vale. She transferred a document to Ruby's scroll that contained Lieutenant Cortez's report on his team's situation and asked that Ruby deliver it to Bradford. And so Blake departed on her own mission while everyone else started their journey back to XCOM's Safe Zone.
Ruby alternated between taking point for the main group and falling back towards the middle to check on both her sister and Pyrrha. Yang seemed to have recovered pretty well from her burn injuries, though she wasn't so hard-headed as to refuse some light assistance from one of the operatives on the extraction team. Pyrrha, on the other hand… Jaune carried his partner in his arms without any difficulty, and Ruby was relieved to hear her friend report that Pyrrha had finally fallen asleep. Everyone had their own demons and horrors they faced last night, but Jaune's story about the trauma Pyrrha had to endure (starting with having to literally face her worst nightmare) sounded far worse than any of Ruby's struggles, which included putting down a deranged Penny. And if Vahlen wasn't able to fix this paralysis thing, then what could they possibly do to help Pyrrha regain a sense of normalcy? Ruby couldn't even begin to fathom what kind of crippling fear this injury was wreaking on her friend's psyche.
Another stop ahead pulled Ruby away from the dark thoughts that started to cloud her mind. She caught up with the scouts and looked ahead to see what the problem was. They had almost reached the docks, and Ruby couldn't sense any approaching danger to warrant the extra caution.
"More Grimm?"
Ren shook his head, "It looks like we've moved outside the main convergence of Grimm at Beacon. It'll be much easier to navigate around any outliers moving forward."
"Or we could just kill them." Orryn commented, idly twirling his dagger around his head while he waited for the rest of the group to catch up.
"There are more lone wolves now, yes." Ren agreed, "Now we just need to find a way to get everyone down into the city."
"Oh, that won't be a problem!" Ruby piped up, digging into one of her pouches and pulling out a specially marked cartridge and loading it into Zhang's handgun.
Ren raised an eyebrow, "Flares?"
"Flares." Ruby confirmed.
Of all the ideas she and Bradford bounced off of each other, this was the one they eventually settled on. Given Beacon's elevation above the rest of Vale, Ruby could shoot the flare straight ahead and people in the city would be able to see it without alerting the Grimm in the school. The Nevermores perched atop the ruined tower might be able to see it, though, so perhaps Ruby would have to descend halfway down the switchbacks towards the marina before sending her signal.
Orryn and Ren still had their doubts, apparently. "But is anybody going to be looking for a flare from Beacon?"
"Our pilots are."
Ruby hid a smirk as she watched the cogs turn in Ren's brain as he looked around at the group assembling at their location. The Albatross suits were pretty heavy-duty, but even they wouldn't be able to hold everyone. The idea of leaving some people behind while the pilots made several round trips was out of the question, of course. Once she'd given her friend enough time to puzzle out a solution, she told him the plan.
"The Bullhead pilots from Atlas were starting to complain about fatigue affecting their ability to fly." Ruby started to explain, "There's been a near-constant need for aerial deployments and extractions, which is something Ironwood's military hadn't anticipated, I guess. Anyway, Bradford volunteered to let our pilots help keep the Bullheads and shuttles airborne. Ironwood wasn't too fond of the proposal at first, but apparently the Atlesian airforce was overwhelmingly in favor of XCOM's aid, so the General eventually agreed."
"Seems like we made quite the impression on Atlas's armed forces." Ren mused.
Ruby's smirk shifted into a grin. "Indeed. When Firebrand asked her co-pilot about the extraction mission, he didn't even have to think it over before agreeing. Regardless of how Ironwood feels about us, we're pretty popular with his troops."
The group reached the docks without incident, and Ruby dropped down below the cliff's ridgeline before she gave Firebrand the signal to fly in and extract. The operatives on the extraction team took up positions to form a small perimeter around the docks and Orryn quietly slipped off to scout beyond the defensive line and preemptively eliminate any Grimm that wandered close. Ren joined Nora at Jaune's side, and the three of them looked at Pyrrha's sleeping figure. Yang took the opportunity to lay down by the dock's edge, since they would likely be waiting for a little while, and she graciously allowed herself to be used as a pillow for Pyrrha.
"Do you think she'll be okay?" Nora asked.
"Can't say for certain," Jaune answered, eyes glued to his partner's sleeping form, "But I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure she will be."
Given that Jaune had subjected himself to literal torture for at least a week during their time on Earth, Ren knew that truth and determination backed his claim. As Ren watched a trio of bright red flares shoot out over the massive river leading to Beacon, his thoughts wandered to the relationship between Jaune and Pyrrha. Jaune frequently joked that he didn't deserve Pyrrha, and that he got way more out of their partnership than she did. The fire that now smoldered in his eyes, however, told Ren that Jaune gave himself far less credit than he deserved.
A few minutes later, Ruby hopped back up onto the docks.
"Alright, we're all set. I saw a Bullhead light up a few moments after I launched the flares, so help should be on its way soon."
"Really?" Jaune asked, and he squinted in an effort to see anything heading towards them from Vale.
Ruby tapped her temple with a smirk. "Special eyes, remember?"
"Sometimes, I feel like you and Annette have made a secret pact to hog all of the Aura-Psi duality powers for yourselves." Jaune grumbled, and he sat down next to Pyrrha and Yang while he waited for their pickup.
Yang let out a quiet yawn as the group looked out over the morning horizon. Although the threat of Grimm coming up from their rear was technically possible, the next few minutes of downtime represented their first real opportunity to breathe easy and take in the relative peace that followed last night's storm. The massive city of Vale stretched out along the river before them. And while countless pillars of smoke rose above the skyline to mark the death and destruction brought down upon the kingdom, airships dotted the cityscape as they flitted to and fro in an effort to deploy help where it was needed. Vale was dealt a crippling blow, but sheer force of will in the face of adversity had always been one of mankind's strong suits.
It may take years for the kingdom to recover, but Ren had no doubt that it would. In the meantime, small pockets of safety had already begun to nucleate and grow in the various city districts. From his vantage point, Ren could see the massive breach in the perimeter wall that had allowed the Grimm to pour in like water once panic had spread from the festival goers and taken hold in the city proper. Vale wouldn't truly be safe until the wall was properly repaired, but at least people could find shelter and safety among the outposts for now. And there would be huntsmen and military personnel ready to defend them as long as they had the supplies and energy to do so.
A few minutes later, and Ruby's scroll pinged with a hailing signal. A familiar face appeared on the screen after she accepted the call, and the woman spoke loud enough for all of the students to hear.
"Extraction team, this is Firebrand with Atlas One-Five. I think it's time we brought you home."
"General Ironwood, sir."
Ironwood looked up from his work to see an officer peeking through the tent flap.
"He's here."
The General nodded, pushed his work to the side, and gestured for the officer to bring in his guest. Ironwood had received word several hours ago about the proposed meeting when the request was radioed to his security detail in the evacuation zone. While the idea that Bradford wanted to meet with him again after their first delegation was amusing, it also took time away from the rest of the hundred-and-one pressing matters that needed the General's attention. Even so, the Captain did receive Ironwood's group, and regardless of how well or poorly Ironwood viewed their conversation, professionalism dictated that he offer the same hospitality.
Bradford ducked in a few moments later, a metallic case in hand, accompanied by Ironwood's attending officer.
"Dismissed. Thank you." Ironwood said, and the officer snapped a salute before excusing himself. While Bradford didn't appear bothered by the officer's presence, Ironwood suspected that his guest came here to discuss matters in private. He did come alone, after all.
"I presume you have a point in coming here, Captain."
"I do." Bradford answered with a nod as he set the case down on the floor, "Our last meeting showed me that I need to clear the air between us. I suspect we'll be working together quite a bit in the coming months, for reasons that I will get into shortly, so it's important that we aren't hostile to one another."
How presumptuous of him to assume that they would be working together after this Vytal business was cleared up. Still, Ironwood decided that it might be worthwhile to play along with his game, at least for now.
"And how do you plan to accomplish that?"
"Well, by having a conversation where it's just you and me, for starters." Bradford said, and Ironwood caught a hint of mild annoyance in his voice, "There's nobody here that's going to judge you or I about which one of us comes out 'on top' by the end of this conversation. All we have to worry about is finding a common ground and working our way up from there."
A good sentiment, provided that the Captain wasn't just lying through his teeth to make Ironwood feel more comfortable. Still, if his guest really did have good intentions, Ironwood needed to do his due diligence and hear the man out. Healthy skepticism wasn't a bad thing, but blind disbelief wouldn't be helpful either. And while the General would never admit it out loud, the battle's casualties would have spiraled out of control without the 'Recon Division' soldiers. Bradford's usefulness as an ally was Ironwood's to win or lose, and it didn't take a General to recognize the value in that.
Still, the Captain needed to be made perfectly aware of Ironwood's misgivings. "Trust would be a good place to start."
Bradford seemed to agree. "Indeed. There is a lot that I kept from you, mostly because I was trying to tread carefully during the stressful time presented by the festival. Once security over thousands of guests was no longer an issue, I planned to debrief you in full on the nature of my division." The Captain shrugged, "I don't see a reason why that time needs to wait any longer. But first, I think the best way to tell you everything is to first understand what you know already."
Fair enough. "Your battlefield technology, while not exactly out of the realm of possibility, is not even close to anything I've seen come out of Vale's R&D. You say your group is a Recon Division for the Valean government, but none of the four kingdoms except for Atlas has ever produced field-ready mechanized units, and none of the four kingdoms has ever produced a stabilized teleportation device."
"I assumed that was what you were referring to when you mentioned Dr. Polendina's report." Bradford said with a smile.
Ironwood didn't share the Captain's amusement. "Why didn't you feel the need to inform me that you had that kind of capability? I could have done a lot more to protect the people of Remnant if I knew even half of what your group was truly capable of."
"Would you have believed me if I told you?" Bradford asked, "And would you have actually trusted me if you knew? Or would you have continued to assume that my division has some nefarious intention for keeping secrets from you?"
The General said nothing, choosing to let his guest make his point. "You're correct in your assertion that we aren't Valean, however. The truth is, we're not even from Remnant."
That was… not the point that Ironwood was expecting. "I don't think I heard you right, Captain."
"No, you did." Bradford said with a chuckle, "And I might as well tell you now that I'm not a Captain. I am the Central Officer of the Extraterrestrial Combat Unit that came here from Earth. You and your Specialist probably know us better as XCOM."
Silence met Bradford's words as Ironwood continued to slowly process what he was hearing. Was this some kind of joke? The General had asked for trust, and this Central Officer responds by spinning a fantastical tale of soldiers from a far away world. "You're going to have to do better than that, Bradford."
The Central Officer nodded. "I agree, and I can."
Bradford reached for the case that he had brought with him. He set it on Ironwood's table, popped the lid open, and laid two items on the wood in front of his host. The first was a vial containing a small crystal that seemed to practically buzz inside its chamber. The second, a piece of serrated metal, wasn't quite as intriguing as the vial, and the General wondered why his guest thought that scrap would be useful for their conversation.
"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Ironwood asked as he picked up the vial and examined the crystal inside. Sure, it looked intriguing, but that didn't mean much without a deeper analysis. Perhaps Bradford was claiming to offer diamonds when instead he only possessed cubic zirconia.
His guest shrugged,. "If you already have a means of generating near-infinite energy, or if you've synthesized a ballistic material that is ten times harder than alloyed steel… then I suppose not." Bradford picked up the scrap metal and twirled it in his hands, "You have a knife?"
No matter how little Ironwood thought of Bradford, he couldn't possibly imagine that the man would be dumb enough to try and ask for a murder weapon. The General fished a dirk out of his boot and passed it to Bradford, who nodded in thanks and ran the blade across the surface of the metal. Ironwood winced at the screeching sound that followed, but noticed that not a single scratch showed on the surface of the plate after Bradford had finished.
"While I won't be able to show you some of our best technology," Bradford continued, handing the dagger back to his host, "I still have plenty here that I'd be willing to loan you so that technical personnel that you trust -Dr. Polendina, perhaps?- can examine it and verify that it is indeed like nothing seen on Remnant. Weiss Schnee will be more than happy to join him for an afternoon of scientific inquiry, I'm sure."
"You seem awfully willing to give away XCOM's secrets, Central Officer." Ironwood commented, examining the material. He didn't know if the stuff in the vial was dangerous, but the idea of Weiss examining it with Dr. Polendina brought the General a fair amount of comfort. While Bradford's trustworthiness still remained to be seen, Ironwood knew Weiss well enough to confidently believe that she wouldn't allow herself to take part in an assassination plot against her own countrymen.
"Because forging alliances with the kingdoms of Remnant is in XCOM's best interest. We are very keen on establishing a good relationship between Earth and Remnant." Bradford explained, "Now that there is no delicate situation I need to be mindful of, why would I worry about secrecy?"
"Because maybe I'm not trustworthy."
Bradford shook his head. "I doubt that. Ozpin trusts you, and Ruby Rose trusts Ozpin. That's all I need to know."
Interesting. "Alright, so let's assume for now that I believe your story and I tentatively believe your intentions. What do you propose we do from here?"
"Do you mean before or after we finish with this mess?" Bradford asked, gesturing behind him, "XCOM is fully committed to supporting Atlas's evacuation efforts first and foremost. From there, we can turn our attention to helping Vale recover and rebuild, and I assume you will likewise be expected to focus your own efforts and resources on shoring up Atlas's defenses against whoever was behind this. XCOM is willing to support Atlas to whatever degree you decide it is safe to trust us and to whatever capacity we are capable of offering. Hopefully, you will consider offering the same aid to Vale if you have the resources to spare."
"What of your Earth?" Ironwood questioned, "I assume that the portal you are capable of creating connects to your homeworld, so why not ask your own nations to assist you in your goals on Remnant?"
The General realized that the answer to his question was not so simple when Bradford's face fell slightly. "If only, General, but there are two things you need to know. First, Earth is still recovering from our own war. Imagine the devastation of the Vytal Festival, but spread across an entire world. Hostile aliens from beyond our planetary system invaded and tried to subdue humanity into subservience, or worse. It was in this war that I met RWBY, JNPR, and Penny, and it was there that those students became the hardened soldiers that you saw in their fights during the tournament. Though I am certain that the nations of Earth would be willing to repay the favor we owe to those huntsmen of Remnant, they simply do not have the capacity to do so at this time.
"Second, our common adversary from the Vytal Calamity, whoever they may be, did something to our connection with Earth with the explosion that destroyed Beacon Tower. All of the contact we had from this world to ours was suddenly cut off, and we have been unable to regain that connection since then. Until we can better understand what happened and how we can reverse it, what you've seen is the full extent of XCOM's presence on Remnant."
Ironwood took a moment to chew on Bradford's words. "So you're stuck."
"We're stuck." Bradford agreed.
"And is that why you're so keen on using this disaster to establish a foothold in a shattered Vale?" Ironwood asked.
Bradford stared at Ironwood for a few seconds before letting out a low sigh, "You just can't help yourself, can you? I came here, alone, and laid out to you in plain terms who I really am and what my intentions really are. I offer you evidence that I am not of this world, and allow you to freely take it home so that your scientists may do with it what they will. Why are you still intent on convincing yourself that my goals are nefarious?"
Ironwood decided to ignore his guest's scolding tone. "Because you never explained why. Why are your intentions so altruistic? There is no way you would willingly throw your soldiers into the grinder if you didn't get something out of it."
Understanding dawned on Bradford's face. "We already got something out of it, General. I would very likely not be standing here today if not for the heroic efforts and sacrifices of Ruby and her friends. Their contributions to the war were immeasurable, and there isn't a single person at XCOM who wouldn't jump at the chance to repay the favor."
"They joined your war for three weeks, Bradford." Ironwood snorted, "How helpful could they have been?"
"They joined our war for eight months, General." Bradford shot back, "Time is a funny thing when you're dealing with transdimensional links."
That got the General's attention. Bradford pressed on, "Do you think Sergeant Belladonna developed her severe PTSD overnight? Or that Captain Rose learned how to effectively command a squad in a couple of days? They threw themselves into 'the grinder,' one far more horrific than tonight's I might add, without hesitation. And they did so without demanding anything in return. But that won't stop us from trying to pay them back anyway."
The tent grew quiet as Ironwood studied Bradford. Was this man telling the truth? Ironwood didn't see any of the obvious tells that would give away a liar, but this Central Officer was a trained professional. Perhaps if the General handed him off to Winter, she might pull the truth out of him. Then again, her response when Ironwood had originally asked for a first impression was, "Slightly nosy, but genuine."
Maybe Ironwood did owe him a chance.
"Suppose I believe you." The General started, "And suppose you really do want to help Remnant after we deal with our current mess. How do you plan to do it? You're stuck in Vale."
Bradford raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps it's the optimist in me, but it sounds like you're about to propose a solution to that issue."
"No. I'm just making an observation."
"Well then perhaps I can propose one." Bradford replied, "But first, a question: what do you do with Atlesian ships that get shot down?"
Ironwood did not like the start of this 'solution.' He narrowed his eyes and answered, "We locate the ship to search for survivors and salvage what we can from the wreck."
"What about ships that were hijacked by a terrorist, attacked by a Grimm dragon, and then crashed into God-knows-where on the far side of Beacon, probably in Grimm-infested territory?"
He knew exactly which ship Bradford was talking about. One of his finest, which had gone rogue in the early minutes of the battle and crippled Atlas's air superiority so that the Grimm fliers had free reign to terrorize the civilians. Ironwood had dispatched a couple of his scouting pilots to try and locate the wreck, but the Nevermores and Griffons roosting in Beacon swarmed them before they could properly survey the region.
"Do you mean to tell me that you've dispatched valuable operatives -ones that could otherwise be used to secure the safety of helpless citizens- to carry out a wild hunt for one of my ships?"
"I've dispatched valuable operatives to locate several student huntsmen teams trapped in Beacon." Bradford countered, his tone level, "And it turns out that those students had spent their time locating your ship, which happened to have a full squad of my operatives on board. Because I dispatched them to neutralize the terrorists during the battle and recover your asset. Obviously, that last part didn't pan out so well."
A… reasonable motivation, Ironwood had to admit. Even so, the idea of Bradford finding and tinkering with his ship nettled the General. "And once you have recovered your personnel, what do you intend to do with the ship?"
"I think the better question is what you intend to do with it, General. The reports I've received indicate that the ship's Dust cores are trashed, its hull is split into two pieces, all electronic equipment on the command deck has been leveled, and it's currently laying in the middle of a forest swarming with Grimm. My team of commandos has elected to stay with the ship in an effort to recover and repair what they can so that in the event you do have an interest in the ship, they can at least provide you with something worth salvaging."
"It sounds like a scrap heap to me. There's no way to get that thing airworthy without bringing the Grimm down on the work crews." Ironwood stared at Bradford, "Which again raises the question of why you are so interested in it."
"Because as you said, XCOM is stuck in Vale. We are limited in both number and resources. If we are to be of use, we need supplies in order to sustain our efforts. We will of course commit the majority of our efforts towards keeping the population safe, and we will assist Vale in its subsequent reconstruction and security efforts. But from your perspective, that derelict ship belongs to the dragon now. I fail to see the harm in trying to strip it of any and all parts that we could use to help protect the people of Remnant."
Ironwood rolled his eyes, "If your operatives have a death wish, then by all means, draw in the Grimm with the ruckus you'll create when you try to tear my ship apart for nuts and bolts."
"Thank you, General." Bradford said with a respectful nod, "My engineers are confident that they can make some use of your ship, but I had no intention of greenlighting any efforts until I had your permission. Going behind your back would only work counter to my goals here."
Did the Central Officer really need to be reminded of all the times he'd gone behind Ironwood's back already? Or perhaps that was why he apparently refused to do so this time around. "The sentiment is appreciated, Bradford. Will that be all…?"
Bradford nodded and got up from his seat. "For now, General. However, I hope we'll see more of each other as we move forward." He held out his hand and glanced at Ironwood to gauge his reaction, "We got off on the wrong footing, and I am determined to fix that mistake."
Ironwood looked at the outstretched hand with some hesitation before finally grasping it with his own and giving Bradford a firm shake. "This new candor is a good start. Good luck out there."
"Vigilo Confido, General." Bradford said as he offered a casual salute before turning to leave.
"Don't you think that our associates would have responded if they found the signal by now?"
MacAuley shook his head at Tygan's question, "My boys would've recognized the lengths I went to in hiding the message. They know their only option is to be here in person, or not at all."
"Not sure I'm a fan of the 'not at all' option." Jane called out with a grunt as she sifted through more of the rubble. Behind her grew a pretty sizable stack of rebar and concrete as she slowly worked to stockpile hardware that could be used as fortification if the Grimm came knocking before XCOM did. Given that the main reason for the group to stay with Amity was to do a post-mortem research and salvage operation on the station, Tygan and the engineers had plenty to keep themselves busy. Beagle and Kelly, on the other hand, didn't have much to do except keep their team secure.
Senchin and Altinsoy were more than happy to help in that regard, however. While Tygan focused his efforts on the station's databases and MacAuley rigged up his distress signal, the other two engineers took a keen interest in the hard light technology that had (for the most part) protected the stadium's audience from the furious battles in the ring. Altinsoy took a trip down to Amity's reactor to see if she could salvage anything that might be usable as a portable power source while Senchin helped the Lieutenant and Captain dig up sections of the forcefield generators and try to figure out how they worked. Luck seemed to be on their side for the first time that night: not only was Altinsoy able to report that part of the station's power plant remained undamaged, but it only took an hour and a half of concerted effort between Senchin and Tygan before they had figured out how to power up the shielding system. Another half hour later, and the scientist had managed to go a step further and successfully learned how to isolate and energize specific generators so that the entire system wouldn't cause undue strain on their limited power supply.
"Which is why they know the only option is to get off of their lazy asses and bail us out." MacAuley replied before turning his attention back to Tygan, "Any luck with your datamining yet?"
The scientist nodded. "Only a little at the moment, but what I've found is… intriguing. For starters, I've encountered no interference from the Black Queen thus far. So our foe is either choosing to observe us without interruption, or the software's controller was routing commands through the CCTS network."
"What are the odds of option one?" Beagle asked.
"I flooded the system with a combination of Vahlen's diagnostic tools and the Atlesian technician's anti-virus suite." Tygan explained, his eyes still glued to the slightly damaged terminal in front of him, "Both programs flagged suspicious code in the system, but neither has noted any changes to the registry between when I ran the software an hour ago and now. The Black Queen is certainly there, but she appears to be laying dormant. The worm would have to break the quarantine that Vahlen's program set up, and that would alert me to its activity."
So it sounded like they were safe, at least for the moment. A thunderous groan echoed through the structure to remind them that 'safe' was a relative term. Amity still lay perched above a large precipice. The group had spent half an hour after their crash slowly recovering and waiting for something to shift and indicate that they needed to evacuate immediately, but no such dangers seemed to materialize. Still, everyone was ready to move at a moment's notice if their situation changed. When nothing seemed to follow the creaking of the derelict station, the Amity team let out a collective breath.
Beagle slipped into his command mode, "Alright, we gotta be efficient with our time here. Sen, bundle up some of those hard light generators so we can take them with us when we get out of here. Doc'll love to get her hands on some new toys, I'm sure. Tygan, take a moment to try and download the hard light controls to my scroll before getting back to your datamine. I'm sure I don't need to tell you to be backing up your shit every chance you get. Mac, go with Altinsoy and try to salvage as much power as possible from the reactor. Kelly, we're going on a scouting mission to fortify the remains that overlook No Man's Land between Amity and the treeline. We haven't had any curious Grimm wandering our way yet, but we need to be prepared if we can't use the station as a makeshift fortress."
The Captain grabbed some of the rebar from Jane's pile and the two moved towards the Colosseum's perimeter. Several large pieces of debris that fell off of Amity during its descent remained intact even after it crashed into the dirt, leaving the Amity team with a position that looked far more defensible than Beagle had expected. Without a word, the two soldiers got to work digging their steel spears into the ground to create a phalanx line while keeping their eyes on the forest.
"Is XCOM always dealing with shit this crazy?" Kelly asked as she shoved another piece of rebar into the dirt.
"Just about." Beagle answered, "And it always seemed to get progressively crazier. First came the little grey men. Then they started spitting poison. Then they grew flesh-reaving talons. Then they built doom robots. Then even bigger doom robots. Then they started to mind fuck us. Then they really started to mind fuck us. Then they almost turned the planet into a black hole…"
He looked up from his handiwork and gestured into the air, "And then we found a new planet."
The two soldiers took a moment to lean against a natural barricade of twisted metal and look out into the forest. Jane broke the silence with a sigh, "Well, hopefully we don't die on the new planet. At least not until I get to see more of it."
Beagle gave the Lieutenant a funny look. "Girl, did nobody teach you the concept of 'never say die?' Shit."
"Right. Forgot that you were already cursed to begin with." Kelly answered with an eyeroll.
Her partner returned his attention to the forest. "Damn right I am. And the fact that I'm still standing in spite of The Curse is a testament to my determination to stay amongst the living."
"Movement ahead." Kelly said, flipping over to the covered side of the barricade and pulling out her shotgun. Beagle followed suit and gripped his rifle as he barely peeked around the side of the debris wall.
"Wish I had my launcher with me." He muttered, his body motionless as he tried to get a look at what Jane had spotted, "Not much survives a salvo from Old Faithful."
Kelly strained her ear to listen for their contact's approach. "Whatever it is, it's not making much noise. Any noise, in fact."
"Just my luck that I'm the one to discover a fucking stealth Grimm." Beagle groaned.
"Full disclosure: I'm ditching you for a squad that isn't jinxed the moment we reconnect with Central."
"I wouldn't blame you."
The duo remained motionless as they focused on sniffing out the contact. They sat and waited, yet nothing came close enough to wander into their quiet overwatch. Beagle played with the safety on his rifle as he slid another inch out from behind his cover. He had a pretty decent view of the field by now, and his eyes scanned the flattened trees in the morning sunlight to find nothing out of the ordinary. A lack of movement from his partner told Beagle that Kelly was having similar luck.
"Sure you saw something?" The Captain whispered.
"Positive." The Lieutenant answered.
"Shit."
Beagle toggled his commpiece several times and waited to hear MacAuley's response toggle to indicate that his adjutant understood the warning message. To his surprise, however, an unfamiliar toggle whispered back in his ear. Jane raised an eyebrow at Beagle's frown as he tried the warning toggle once again. Just as before, the same incorrect response answered.
"Swear to God, Mac…" He muttered. The toggle rang in his ear one more time before it finally clicked. The response he kept hearing wasn't the second half of the warning acknowledgment toggle.
It was the first half of XCOM's universal handshake.
"This is Captain John Beagle." He called out, "Identify yourself."
"Master Sergeant Blake Belladonna." A voice answered with a tinge of amusement, "Took you long enough, Captain."
Beagle whipped his head over the barricade and feasted his eyes on a welcome sight: Sabretooth leaning against a piece of metallic junk and grinning back at him. The bags under her eyes and the distinct lack of an arm told Beagle that Blake didn't exactly waltz through last night's events, but she was alive, and she'd found him.
"It's good to see you, too, kiddo. Please tell me you've got some good news."
Blake nodded, "Sure do. Why don't I tell you about it after you gather your team and we make our way back to the cruiser?"
A/N: I think the dick joke is, to date, my favorite thing I've done with MacAuley. It's just so... right.
On a more serious note, I made a passing reference in this chapter to something that I think needs to be talked about, and that is the matter of scale in the World of Remnant. I've gone back and forth on how big Vale should be, how much devastation was caused during the Vytal incident, and how long it would take to rebuild. After doing some research, I realized that Vale is... big. Like, extremely big. For example, if you look at a map of Vale and notice that Beacon is at the end of a small winding river, and then you look at a long-distance shot of Beacon, you realize that the small river is actually a massive gorge. Some fine folks on the internet have gone to even greater lengths to determine how big the kingdoms are, and 'cities' like Vale and Atlas are basically the size of states or countries.
Why is this important? Well, I was worried that an XCOM-esque campaign set in Remnant would be rather limited, since there are only four primary population centers. Upon understanding the size of those cities, however, it's very easy to recognize that each one can be treated as multiple regions/territories (particularly Vale, now that it's a bunch of safe zones that are growing organically as they push back against the Grimm-controlled ruins). Adds a bit of flexibility to some of the stuff I have in mind. But it's also important to define, because I don't think the show does a very good job of defining it. It's hard to get a sense of scale from canon, which confused me to no end until I was shown the Beacon/River example. So I think I'd like to define Vale as the size of New York state. It's a little smaller than some of the various calculations floating around the net, but I think it's large enough to make things interesting.