Menagerie, White Fang Headquarters
October 29th, 1501 Local Time, 2552
News of Adam's defeat and Vermillion's horrible wound had spread through the White Fang like a wildfire, and the overall response was exactly what Sienna had expected. Sadness, fear, anger, division, but above all, tension. Everybody knew about how the UNSC had utterly demolished the Schnee Dust Company in a matter of weeks, and while they had once been hailed as heroes, now they were forced to wonder if history was about to repeat itself with the Whtie Fang.
While there were certainly elements of the White Fang that had been pessimistic about Adam's strategy, nobody had expected the mission to be such a disaster. The Schnee Dust Company had never dealt such a publicly crushing blow to the White Fang, and the UNSC had managed to do so during their very first battle. It was only natural for worries and fears to flare up, and the noticeable increase to the Grimm population around the base was only testament to how morale in the White Fang was flagging.
Sienna did what she could to boost spirits with motivational speeches and promises of future victories, but there was only so much that she could do. It didn't help that the White Fang was now being forced to move from their Headquarters, a well-established base that they had owned for decades. The Schnee Dust Company had tried to engage the UNSC in open warfare and had been utterly destroyed, if the White Fang was to have any chance of victory, they would need to rely upon their tried-and-tested Hit and Run tactics. But that did not make it easy to leave behind what many Faunus viewed as their home.
Abandoning this place feels wrong… almost like we're leaving behind the souls of all of the Faunus who died here. Sienna thought solemnly as she looked out over the former prison from atop the roof. Far below her, the evacuation was proceeding as planned, but it was far from finished, they would still need a couple of days before they were able to move all of their equipment out and into different camps and bases. All of this, because we lost a single fight...
The UNSC's victory had also served to intensify a number of existing debates amongst the White Fang itself. Certain prominent figures, such as Clay, were now openly questioning whether or not fighting the UNSC was a wise decision. Given his crucial position in the White Fang's weapons manufacturing capabilities, his critical outlook was becoming uncomfortably prominent.
But many others, such as Adam, Yuma, and particularly Vermillion, all insisted that continuing the fight against the UNSC wasn't only the right course of action, it was essential to the freedom of the Faunus. Seeing as Adam and Vermillion were the only two survivors from the battle against the UNSC who weren't in prison, their opinions were also incredibly influential.
There's a rift growing, it cannot be allowed to spread. Sienna thought as she overheard a particularly vocal argument start to break out far below her, only for one of the Senior Enforcers to step in and shut it down as fast as it had started.
Sienna herself saw both sides of the debate. On one hand, she had learned over her years of fighting that Humans were very untrustworthy, so any kind of peace with the UNSC would likely be shaky at best. The alien military had also become uncomfortably firm allies of Atlas, and there wasn't enough bile in the world to accurately summarize how she felt about that particular Kingdom. There was also a matter of debate as to whether or not they would even accept a ceasefire, but knowing Chieftain Belladonna's commitment to peace above everything else, he would likely be able to put some pressure on the Humans in that regard. Hmm, for once, Ghira might actually be useful...
On the other hand, the UNSC had definitively proven itself to be at the very least tangentially dedicated to the cause of Faunus Rights. There wasn't a single soul in Menagerie who mourned the destruction of the Schnee Dust Company, and seeing Jacques Schnee be marched out of his manor in handcuffs by his own daughter was a sight that Sienna wouldn't soon forget. While it was certainly strange for them to insist that the Faunus were actually Human, their message was clearly not one of malice.
The UNSC had also established themselves as firm allies of the Chieftain's Government, which was both good and bad for the White Fang. While Ghira was certainly devoted to the cause of the Faunus, his reluctance to engage in violence had cost the White Fang dearly in the past. There wasn't a doubt in Sienna's mind that there were dozens, maybe hundreds of courageous Faunus who would still be alive, were it not for the Chieftain's weak leadership.
Regardless of his past failures, there was no doubting Ghira's popularity amongst the everyday people of Menagerie. The hard truth was that the average Faunus just didn't care about continuing the fight, they just wanted to live their lives in blissful ignorance of the oppression of the Humans across Remnant. In a way, Sienna could almost sympathize with that mindset, almost.
But the Chieftain was only a tiny part of what had inspired Menagerie's recent prominence, for it had been the UNSC that had truly catapulted the Island Nation back onto the global stage, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. The government reforms that Ghira had announced were extremely controversial, and for good reason. Many figures in the White Fang were worried that Menagerie would become as corrupt as Mistral, or as weak as Vacuo's Council, and Sienna was one of them. She was willing to acknowledge that the Chiefdom needed to be reformed, but adopting a form of government that the Humans had already proven to be faulty was not the way to solve the problem.
The people of Menagerie, however, seemed to be enthusiastic about their newfound global attention. Every public announcement from the Chieftain's House in Kuo Kuana was met with thunderous applause on public television, and the UNSC had also earned themselves no small amount of popularity in the eyes of the people. That, more than anything else, was what made Sienna's blood boil. Seeing her people and the White Fang's sacrifices forgotten in favor of the alien warriors and their shiny toys.
We spent decades trying to take down the Schnees, lost countless heroes fighting for our people, only for these complete strangers to show up and take all the credit! Sienna bitterly thought as she felt renewed anger coursing through her veins; after a moment of fuming, she forced herself to calm down, she would need a level head for what she was planning to do.
Late last night, while her comrades had begun the process of evacuating the Headquarters, she had reached out to some of her contacts in the criminal underworld of Vale. Normally they served as her primary source of the ever-important Dust and certain other materials, in return, the White Fang offered them some support fighting against the local law enforcement, as well as large quantities of cash, usually stolen from the Schnee Fortune. It was not an ideal set-up, but it got the White Fang the materials that they needed to continue their operations.
This time however, Sienna hadn't been looking for something, she was looking for someone; the infamous Doctor Arthur Watts. She had expected the process to take weeks, but as fortune would have it, one of Vale's top criminal minds was apparently directly linked to him.
Unfortunately, that criminal just so happened to be Roman Torchwick.
The idea of working with somebody who was so blatantly racist made Sienna want to gag, but whether or not he was a bigot was sadly irrelevant. The hard truth was that he supplied a good deal of the Dust that the White Fang used for their operations, and now, he was the only lead that Sienna had towards locating the illusive Doctor Watts and getting Vermillion a new arm.
That doesn't mean that I have to like it. Sienna bitterly thought as she dug her scroll out of her pocket.
Using the CCTS was both difficult and risky, the distance from the Relay Tower made her signal weak, even while standing in the open atop a giant concrete cube on Menagerie's coast. There was also the risk that the UNSC or Atlas had some kind of surveillance in place to monitor the network, but it was a risk that she had to take. She punched in Roman's number, and before long, was put through to the smug criminal.
"Ah, Sienna." Roman picked up almost immediately. "I was just thinking about our business arrangement! I heard from-"
"I am not here to chat like some grade schooler." Sienna interrupted him. Roman tended to ramble on for far too long if he wasn't stopped, probably because the bastard loved the sound of his own voice so much.. "I need something from you, and I know that you have it."
Roman chuckled. "Alright, settle down there pussycat. What are you in the market for these days? Oh, I know! I've got these new electrical rifles for sale! Get this, they don't use any Dust at all, how economical!"
"Silence, idiot." Sienna rolled her eyes, she wasn't interested in the bastard's sales pitch. "I want information. I need to contact a Human from Atlas, Doctor Arthur Watts."
"Oh. I see." Torchwick said. His voice suddenly sounded very hollow, which was quite unusual for the jovial gangster. "Well then, I suppose that can be arranged. But information is a valuable commodity these days, and like any commodity, there's a price."
Sienna bit back a groan of annoyance. "Fine, name it."
"Well, you know that Dust shipment that you wanted delivered by next week?" Roman rhetorically asked, as they both knew it was the only reason that Sienna tolerated his continued existence. "It might be a bit… smaller. About twenty-percent smaller, to be precise."
Sienna let out a low growl of bitter hatred. "I'm about to go toe to toe with the UNSC, and you expect me to go in with less ammo?! That damn hat must have finally cut off the blood to your brain if you honestly think I'm going to accept that!"
"Hey! It's not my fault that these damn kids from Beacon keep showing up, burning my stuff and killing my guys, and the guys that you lent me by the way!" Roman protested. "Apparently those alien jackasses you've been fighting are handing out some new ammo to the Huntsmen, and it's kind of hampering my operations here."
"I don't care about your failures. I want the full shipment, no arguments!" Sienna bitterly retorted.
Torchwick made a noise somewhere between a groan and a yawn. "Alright fine, I'll admit it, I don't really have the full shipment right now. That business with the Schnees damn near drove me under, and Atlas is a bit tighter with their security nowadays! You should appreciate that I'm still in business at all! You pulling all of your goons back to Menagerie certainly didn't help!"
Sienna paused. While she was still feeling the vengeful satisfaction that the SDC had gotten buried along with the Faunus that they had killed, she hadn't thought about how her own supply shipments might be affected by the sudden wavering of the Dust market.
Fine, but I'm not letting him get out of this for free. Sienna thought with a cruel smile as she prepared to exploit Roman's biggest weakness. He was a massive, massive coward.
"Tell you what, you're a businessman, so let's make a deal." Sienna offered. "You'll hand over some of those new electrical rifles of yours to sweeten the deal, and I won't have you tied to a board and lashed until your skin is a distant memory."
"Heh, your threats don't mean much. Sorry to say it, Pussycat, but you're the least of my worries these days." Torchwick's usual cocky attitude was stunted, clearly forced on to maintain an image. Whether it was for her or his own pride, Sienna couldn't guess. "You couldn't lay a hand on my pretty little head even if you could get to me."
Sienna growled into her scroll as the crook had suddenly decided to grow a spine, or at least someone else's anyway. "I need that Dust, Roman."
"Tch," Torchwick tutted, and she was certain she could hear the sound of him lighting a cigar as she waited for him to respond. Her patience was wearing thin, nearly to the point of breaking, by the time he spoke. "Fine. My… employer needs your lot to stick around anyways, I'm sure she wouldn't mind me taking a little bit of her stuff to help you out. You owe me for this one Sienna, more than you know."
She made to ask about his mysterious 'other employer' but he had already hung up. Growling in frustration at her scroll, Sienna had to force herself to calm down lest she snap the peice of Atlas trash in half.
Gods, I hope that this Doctor isn't as arrogant as he is… Sienna thought.
UNSC Dominion, Starboard Hangar
October 29th, 1523 Local Time, 2552
Out of all of the places on the Dominion, the Hangars were the place that Mags felt the most at home. The smell of industrial chemicals and motor oil from the various cars, tanks, aircraft, and spaceships that were constantly being serviced reminded her of the many days and nights that she had spent at the Kuo Kuana Dockyard, tirelessly restoring old engines and fixing all kinds of ships and parts. The sound of power tools and whirring machinery filled the whole Hangar, along with the shouting of dozens of Technicians trying to talk over the noise.
The familiar environment also reminded her of her own vessel, the M.S.S Thunderchild. While she was away from home helping the UNSC, it had remained in Menagerie to perform various civil duties in her absence. She had left the ship under the command of one of her oldest friends, a gentleman who went by the name "Old Stan". He was one of the few people that shared her passion for all things maritime, and he'd been her second in command for a good long while now.
So even though most of Margaret's time aboard the Dominion was spent running the UNSC's Marines through various Aura training exercises, she also enjoyed lending a hand around the Hangar. The Technicians and Engineers were generally very kind and grateful for her assistance, but she had noticed that many of them suffered from serious hearing issues, which made it very difficult to actually get a conversation going with them.
It served as a grim reminder that there was no Aura in the UNSC's Home Space, meaning that any kind of hearing damage would be effectively permanent without some kind of medical treatment. They worked tirelessly regardless of their health issues, and that was enough to earn her respect.
The UNSC's vehicles were equally worthy of her respect, and while she had never been as passionate as some other Huntsmen about cars and airships, that did not mean that she was unwilling to see their beauty. Every single one of the UNSC vehicles was ruthlessly simple, usually with a decent amount of armor, and almost always carried considerable armament. Huh, kind of like their drivers now that I think about it.
Her personal favorite of the Dominion's complement was the AV-22 Sparrowhawk, a turbine-propelled aircraft that served as a jack-of-all-trades gunship. It was armed with a pair of gimble-mounted autocannons and a very impressive chin-mounted Laser Cannon, as well as a number of hardpoints for mounting additional weapons such as guided missiles. The best part was that their armor and weapons didn't weigh them down, as they were lightning fast and more agile than most of their contemporaries.
Such a beauty… damn shame it's in such a shape. Mags thought as she examined the utterly ruined airframe of the Sparrowhawk laying before her.
The gunship, along with its twin, had been shot down by airborne Grimm during the Battle of Argus. Although the pilot had managed to safely eject, the technicians had tragically declared this particular vehicle to be too far gone, never to fly again and destined only to be picked apart for spare materials and components. It's sister, however, still had a chance to be saved, and so Mags was tasked with salvaging whatever components looked vaguely intact so that the sole remaining Sparrowhawk could be brought back from the dead.
"Not a chance I'm letting you go to waste…" Mags muttered as she worked.
"Mags."
She briefly looked over her shoulder and saw Jorge standing beside her, holding his helmet under his arm as he examined what she was doing.
"Ahoy Spartan, good to see ya." Margaret replied. "Give me just a moment here, I want to make sure this plate doesn't have any microfractures."
"I can help with that." Jorge offered. "Here, shine this on it."
He passed her a tool that looked vaguely like a flashlight, but was a good deal heavier. She hit the power button and a blue light emitted from the end. When she pointed it at the armor plate that she had been examining, it revealed nothing out of the ordinary.
"I'm guessing the fact I don't see anything is a good sign?" Looking up, Mags waited for Jorge to nod before handing the tool back to him. "So what's the word?"
Jorge's expression betrayed nothing, but Mags still got the sense that he hadn't come to visit for friendly conversation.
Ah well, this can't be good. Mags thought. She already knew that the UNSC had gotten into a scuffle with the White Fang, and he was probably here to ask her for any information about the terrorist group.
"You said that you had some experience fighting the White Fang, I was hoping that you'd be willing to answer a few questions for me."
Dead on the money. Mags thought, although there really was no prize for guessing. The whole ship had been buzzing with scuttlebutt and rumors about when the UNSC was going to go after the White Fang. Not "if", Mags noted, but "when".
"I uh… yeah, no problem Spartan. Let me just clean up here first."
Jorge obliged, and once she had wiped most of the grease off of her face, she joined him by one of the quieter portions of the hangar where they sat on a heavy-duty storage crate.
You should tell him. Her conscience weighed on her like a dumbell, and admittedly, she had no good reason to hide her past from anybody anymore. She wasn't afraid to face her past mistakes, she had already come to grips with them.
But that didn't make talking about them any easier.
"I… figure that I should be clear about something, before I get into the details here." Mags stammered a bit, but found her voice quickly. She could feel the drought in her throat, making her voice hoarse and dry. "A couple years before I signed up for Beacon Academy, I was a member of the White Fang."
To her surprise, Jorge nodded for her to continue, showing no sign of anger or betrayal. There was no angry shouting, no vengeful glare. If he had reacted at all, Mags just didn't see it.
"It was back before Chief Belladonna left… when we were the good guys." Mags explained. "But even while we were doing things peacefully, there were some Humans… well they weren't interested in pleasant conversation. I didn't just learn how to fight Grimm, I learned how to fight people too. Most of the time it was bandits, brigands, sometimes even town militias with some bigot Mayor. They always shot first, and they practically never gave up.""
Jorge's expression shifted slightly in a manner that Mags barely picked up on, but she could've sworn she saw a sense of regret flash behind his eyes. "I understand. You don't have to give me the details."
Mags gave him a short, grateful nod. "Every time that we got into a fight, we acted in self-defense. I still stand by my actions, and I'd do it all again, but none of that changes what happened to the White Fang."
Jorge nodded. "There was a turning point then, when the White Fang turned to violence before protest. Do you know what it was?"
"I can do you one better than that. I was there, Jorge." Mags replied, her voice flaring up in anger as she remembered the occasion. "I don't know exactly what happened in the town that night, but when Adam came back… he'd killed people, innocent people. Yeah, they were a bunch of racist pricks, but they were civilians, that bastard crossed the line ten times over."
Jorge seemed a bit surprised. "Adam Taurus? He must have been young."
"He was." Mags replied. "I remember a fight broke out, some of us crowned him a hero, the rest like me, we wanted to turn him in. I don't think anybody died, but we couldn't stay in the White Fang after that, so we didn't. I left, signed up at Beacon, and graduated not too long afterwards. The rest… well, you know."
"I appreciate the honesty." Jorge said. "I know what it can be like to have an uncomfortable past."
"So, you… don't mind?" Mags asked, almost incredulous at how Jorge just seemed to brush it all off.
Jorge's eyes betrayed nothing, but when he spoke, his voice betrayed just how haunted the man before her truly was. "When the Covenant attacked, a lot of the Insurrectionists joined up with us to fight them back. They were the people who I trained to fight, and we fought them for a very good reason. They were terrorists, monsters in their own right."
There was a distant stare in his eyes, as if he were reliving a million battles at that very moment, hearing and feeling the gunfire around him.
"You might have fought alongside people who turned to terrorism, but the White Fang hadn't turned on you yet." Jorge said. "But I've fought alongside some of the worst that Humanity had to offer, and some of them might even be on this ship. The sad truth is that when you're fighting a war of annihilation, you can't afford to turn away veteran fighters for any reason. So no ma'am, I honestly don't mind."
Mags smiled with relief, as much as she felt for Jorge's harsh experiences, it was also a weight off of her shoulders to know that she wasn't alone. "I appreciate you saying so, Big Guy."
"Anytime Mags. I'm still gonna have to tell the Commander, but I don't think he'll mind very much." Jorge shot her the briefest of smiles, a refreshing break from his unusually stoic expression. "Now I've got no right to ask you to do this, but the Commander has authorized a Campaign to destroy the White Fang. Our goal is to get them to surrender-"
Mags raised a hand to stop him. "Say no more, I'm in. Menagerie's my home, and I should've done my part to bring down the White Fang years ago."
Jorge gave her a nod of respect. "I'm glad to hear it. Most of my Team is setting out later today, so you can come with us. Our first mission is to find a good location for a Forward Operating Base."
"What do ya mean?" Mags gestured towards the interior of the Dominion that they were in. "Is this beast not enough of a base for you all?"
Jorge shook his head. "We aren't taking the Dominion, she's staying here to help build our new Headquarters on Remnant. And the Commander doesn't want to use the Relay Station in Kuo Kuana, there's too many civilians around, and we don't want to risk drawing the White Fang into the city."
"Hmm, I follow." Mags said as her mind worked the problem, but thankfully, she had a fairly decent solution. "Tell you what, I may not know a good place to shack up, but I do have a ship that we can use. There's not nearly enough bunks for all of ya, but then again, it wasn't built to carry people."
"What kind of ship is it?" Jorge asked.
"She's a torpedo ram, built back during the Faunus Revolution. She's small enough to fit up every major river in Menagerie, but big and powerful enough to take on even the real scary Grimm, and she'll be more than a match for anything that the White Fang might have on offer." Mags pridefully explained. "The Humans who built her called it the Thunderbolt, but once the Faunus took it during the War, they christened her the Thunderchild."
"A torpedo ram?" Jorge shook his head in confusion. "I can't say that I've ever heard of a ship like that before."
"I'm not surprised. I mean, you lads play around with starships, not brackish water." Mags pointed out. "Look, I'll be happy to go over the details once we get over there. Hell, I'll give you the grand tour myself!"
Once more, Jorge smiled ever so softly. "I'll be looking forward to it, but you should probably talk to the Commander about it. There's some protocols for using civilian ships for combat purposes, and while you aren't a civilian, you're also not a commissioned officer. I'm sure you can work out some kind of agreement with him."
"Aye, I don't mind." Mags said. "Hell, maybe I can convince him to give her a refit. I bet we could do some crazy stuff with one of your power plants."
Jorge shrugged. "Like I said, you'd have to take it up with him. But honestly, I don't think we're in a position to turn away your help. We uh, didn't exactly bring any boats with us when we ended up out here."
Mags shot him a wide grin. "Well then Spartan, I say that it's damn fine luck that you met me."
UNSC Dominion, Elevator Junction C
October 29th, 1734 Local Time, 2552
It had been a very busy day for Richard so far. The search for Salem and the White Fang was experiencing some delays due to malfunctioning satellites, which would take precious time to fix. The mysterious informant "Silver" had also failed to deliver any more information to Winter, whether that meant they'd been discovered or simply had nothing to report, Richard didn't know. As if that wasn't bad enough, the lone prisoner that they had recovered from the Hostage Crisis was a fresh recruit with practically nothing in the way of useful information, meaning that for the moment, the UNSC's war effort was halted until new intel turned up.
On a more promising note, Thomas had reported some very good news from Atlas. Apparently Curie was being retrofitted with a body in an attempt to prevent her imminent death, and although Richard didn't understand the science behind it, he was just glad to have any kind of headway on that front. Curie's survival was paramount to the UNSC's success on Remnant but, beyond that, Richard couldn't bear to think of the hit it would be to the crew to lose her.
There was also a flurry of smaller manners that needed to be overseen or attended to. The construction of the new base in Vytal necessitated his constant attention, but he also needed to ensure that Shade Academy had received their first shipment of ARM ammunition. General Ironwood had also requested a UNSC fighter escort for certain high-value prisoner transportations, as he suspected that the White Fang would still be looking for Jacques Schnee, and there were many, many other things that needed to be overseen.
Most recently, he had just finished negotiating a deal with Mags for the temporary usage of her vessel against the White Fang. While the Thunderchild was still her property, they'd reached a deal where he would temporarily grant her a naval commision as a Junior Lieutenant, and commision the ship officially into UNSC service for the duration of her already existing contract with the UNSC. According to existing regulations regarding the UNSC's cooperation with irregular officers, her new rank would only hold weight where it was relevant, in this case aboard her ship.
Of course, a wet-navy vessel could never match up to the usefulness of a Starship, especially when it was somewhat old even by Remnant's standards, but a ship was still a ship, and he'd been looking for a way to station some Marines close to Menagerie. If Margaret's claims about her vessel were at all accurate to it's capabilities, then perhaps it would prove useful as more than a floating barracks. It was also a good idea to have her remain as the Commanding Officer of the vessel, since out of everybody on the UNSC Dominion, not a single person actually had service with any of the wet-navies.
As much as I doubt Margaret is the kind of woman to exploit a position of Command, breaking that particular regulation sets a bad precedent. Richard thought.
He was also mindful of the fact that according to those same regulations, he had no authority to grant Margaret a commision as a Fleet Officer. But much like many of the other regulations that he had broken since the Dominion had become lost, he had not been left with another choice. There was no superior officer for him to report to, no HighCom or Admiralty, just himself and the set of counterfeit credentials that they had made as part of the effort to save Curie.
He also wasn't surprised when she told Jorge about her experiences with the White Fang. Between the way she carried herself, her medical record listing her as a recovered alcoholic, and her greater-than-average experience with a chain of command for a Huntsmen, it hadn't been much of a shock.
You would know what it's like to have some skeletons in your closet, wouldn't you? The cynical voice in Richard's head once more crept from the darker recesses of his mind, only for him to banish it right back. He already had more than enough on his plate to deal with, and he had a sneaking suspicion that this next debacle was going to be especially taxing on his already dwindling mental fortitude.
The elevator finally arrived at his destination, and after making his way through a few bulkheads and corridors, he found himself at the armored entrance to the brig. Doctor Chase and Lieutenant Bradford were already waiting for him, along with a pair of Marines armed with shotguns and the Warden on duty. Richard had personally ordered the presence of the Marines, as even though the threat Set posed was minor, it never hurt to be cautious.
"Doctor, I've read your report." Richard stated as he raised his datapad in one hand, the relevant file was already open. "Putting aside everything else on here for a moment, going in there without an escort was reckless! You and your staff should know better than that!"
"I wear a helmet for a reason, Commander. The prisoner is unarmed, and I carry my stun baton and knife at all times." Chase argued. "And waiting for backup would've risked his life!"
"Yeah well, I've seen those damn things crack the skull of a Helljumper with their bare hands, helmet or not. And frankly speaking, I'm more worried about the lives of my crew than some evangelical maniac in the brig!" Richard sternly shot back. "The only reason you're getting off with a warning for that is because we need you to treat the wounded!"
She seemed to be somewhat disheartened by his retort and comment, and even though he knew that what she did was dangerous, she had admittedly had good intentions. As the Dominion's Senior Medical Officer, the health of the prisoners was her responsibility, even if said prisoner was an alien.
Richard let out a hefty sigh. "I get it, and I admire your spirit, but please try to remember that you're one of a half-dozen modern surgeons in the universe right now, we can't afford to lose a Doctor."
Chase shook her head in solemn defeat, it seemed that Richard had made his point successfully. "It won't happen again, Sir."
"Good." Richard said. He was confident that she had learned her lesson. "Now, with that out of the way… would you mind telling me what the hell happened down here?"
She looked at him with a quizzical expression. "I thought I had a report sent to your datapad?"
"You did, I've read it, multiple times actually." Richard explained. "But I just… well I find it all quite hard to believe, to be honest."
As if Remnant wasn't already creating enough problems, Set had apparently suffered from some kind of medical crisis in the dead of the night. The team that Doctor Chase had led tried to resuscitate him, but given how literally alien Set's biology was, they had significant difficulties doing so. Thankfully, at least for Set, he had somehow managed to revive himself, but that wasn't the end of the alien's bizarre antics.
The Doctor shrugged. "I don't really know what to tell you. I was there, and I'm not sure I believe it either. The way that he was acting, I'd almost assume he was having some kind of mental crisis."
Richard nodded along as a way to confirm that he had read that part of her report as well. Indeed, Set had some very… unusual things to say. "The very foundation of our Covenant was nothing but an excuse to enslave us, to turn us against the Gods!"
"You cannot return to the Galaxy, the Gods have expressly forbidden that we breach quarantine!"
"Those damnable Heirachs, If I ever get my hands on those wrinkly cretins, I shall strangle the life out of them personally!"
"Well that much I could have told you." Bradford pointed out. "He's clearly lost his mind."
"I'm not so sure." Chase argued. "You've spoken to him, he seems totally coherent. Heck, he's downright sociable."
Bradford crossed his arms in annoyance. "I don't trust that thing as far as I can throw it, no matter how friendly he's decided to be."
"Wait. Say that again." Richard said. He was uncertain if he had heard Bradford correctly. His Executive Officer complied and repeated his statement, but that only raised further confusion in Richard's mind. "You got him to cooperate?"
Bradford and Chase exchanged an awkward glance at one another before the Doctor answered. "He isn't just cooperating, Sir. I don't know if I would say he's trying to defect or anything…"
"He's told us a lot about the Covenant." Bradford butted in to clarify. "We've got actionable intel on a number of Covenant Industrial and Military targets, and even some intel on their homeworld. Well, I say "homeworld", it's actually a gigantic ship. Of course, it's pretty useless while we're still stuck here, but… well, you ought to see it for yourself."
Richard could only blink in utter disbelief at Bradford's statement. Most Elites refused to say anything to a Human that wasn't a taunt or a boast, let alone give up any kind of valuable information, but Set was apparently quite different. "Do you think that we can trust his word?"
"I didn't have to. He gave us access to his armor's systems, it's loaded with information that even Curie didn't dig out." Bradford explained. "Now I'm no AI, but let me just say, even a cursory glance at some of this stuff is… enlightening. As unbelievable as it is, I think we just scored more intel on the Covenant than all of ONI did over the last decade."
Huh, so he actually gave up after all… Richard thought as the shock died away. "Get that intel packaged and have one of the Junior Officers put together a report on it all. We might still be stuck here for a little while yet, but when we get home, we need to get that intel to HighCom."
"That's going to take some time, but I can handle it Commander." Bradford said. "But uh, that raises another question. What do we do with the Elite?"
To be honest, Richard hadn't considered the possibility of Set actually cooperating, so he didn't have a plan for the event that he did. It was already a surprise when Set had agreed to help find out where the Dominion had gone, but as Set himself had pointed out, he had a personal stake in that. If the UNSC never found a way out of the Shunspace, neither would Set, so he chose to help.
This was something different entirely however. Set didn't have any motivation for surrendering such valuable military intelligence, at least, no motivation that Richard understood. He already knew that Set's sudden health crisis had prompted a vast shift in his world view, but that didn't explain why he had chosen to cooperate with Humans. "Why did he talk?"
"He claims that he spoke to a Holy Oracle in a spiritual vision, while he was uh… unconscious." Chase awkwardly answered. "He claims that this Oracle told him about a conflict going on in our Home Galaxy, and warned us not to return for what he says is around fifteen Earth Years. Apparently it involved some kind of disease outbreak, and we're supposed to stay here to make sure it doesn't spread to Shunspace."
Bradford gave a huff of amusement. "Well, consider his request granted. We aren't going anywhere without a Slipspace Drive, and it'll be a bit longer than fifteen years before we can build one."
Richard nodded. "So… he had a hallucination or something? That still doesn't explain why he's working with us."
"There's more." Chase explained. "He also said that according to this Oracle, the Covenant's Leaders, The Hierarchs that we learned about from Sergeant Benjamin's questionings, are responsible for creating a false Crusade against Humanity."
"A false Crusade?" Richard repeated to himself. "So he thinks that the war isn't justified?"
"I don't buy it." Bradford muttered. Richard found it hard to do anything other than echo Bradford's skepticism.
Chase took a deep breath. "Unbelievably, it gets weirder. Apparently, this Oracle revealed that the Covenant Gods consider Humanity to be something called "Reclaimers". Basically, not only were we meant to be part of their Holy Covenant, but from the way that he talks about it, apparently we were supposed to be in charge of the whole affair. Set thinks that the Prophets were jealous of us, so they fabricated the whole war to try and wipe us out so that they could remain in power."
Richard blinked in abject disbelief as he tried to wrap his mind around the alien's claims. One thing was certain, if the Elite was lying, which it probably was, it was certainly trying something that Richard hadn't anticipated. "But that's all bullshit… right?"
"Maybe." Chase answered.
"Yes." Bradford said at the same time, before shooting a critical gaze at the Doctor. "Wait, what the hell do you mean "maybe"? Don't tell me you're buying into what that thing is saying!"
Chase shook her head. "Lieutenant, with all due respect; I've spent the last month trying to get pain relievers issued out on a platoon-basis because Remnant's primary export to our troops is migraines. Between the soul powered magic, the Grimm, and all the Humans that have built-in animal parts… I've learned to never move past maybe."
Bradford rolled his eyes at her response. "Look, whether or not you believe it, that thing is a butcher! We aren't about to set it free like an unwanted pet!"
"Lieutenant, please." Richard calmly interjected. He didn't want to see any further arguments develop. "Letting the Elite free is not on the table. Now, Doctor, I take it that you have more than a lack of skepticism to base your theories off of?"
"I do, actually. You should have access to Set's medical records on that report, go ahead and open them." Chase instructed.
Richard did as she asked, and she pointed out a pair of line graphs. "What am I looking at?"
"That top one is a record of Set's heartrates while he was unconscious. Since Elites have multiple hearts, I elected to just record all of them with the expectation that they all operated independently, but something very strange happened, as you can see." Chase explained.
Indeed, Richard could see the oddity. For starters, all of his heartrates were completely synchronized, which a note from Doctor Chase confirmed was far from normal. But what was even weirder was the activity that had been registered. Set's heart rate had been totally flatlined for most of his time unconscious, but at seemingly random intervals of time, his hearts would restart themselves and beat at a staggering rate of nearly four-hundred beats-per-minute, before promptly stopping again. As soon as he woke up, his heartrates had returned to normal.
"I'll be honest Doctor, I've never been an expert on xenobiology." Richard said. "But I take it that's not normal?"
"Given what we know about Elites, no, not at all. They might be tough, but at that rate of beating, his hearts should have torn themselves apart. We also haven't ever seen an Elite with the ability to stop and start their hearts at will, so that's also defying what we know." She answered.
"...I see." Richard said. He had to admit, if the Elite was somehow ignoring the constraints of his own physiology, all while unconcious, that pointed to something stranger going on than a simple hallucination. "What about the second graph?"
Chase shook her head. "That's a reading of the electrical signals in his brain. Now, Elites have some very unusual neurological architecture, but it's still in the small general ballpark of what our equipment can pick up. The spike of activity at the end is when he woke up."
Richard looked at the data, but he wasn't a Doctor, it might as well have been meaningless. "This looks like what a seismograph would print off, not a sleeping brain."
"Yeah, that's what I thought too." Doctor Chase agreed, much to Richard's surprise. "But after a bit of research, I found another device that produces signals like this, Covenant comms technology. It's also worth noting that normal brain activity was totally halted for the entire time that he was unconscious, by every metric of what we know about his species, he should be dead."
Richard was starting to put the dots together in his mind. It seemed almost too convenient to be true, but at the same time, he wasn't an expert in Covenant communications technology or xenobiology, so he couldn't actively disprove it. "So there's a legitimate possibility that he's telling the truth?"
"Not at all, but I honestly don't have another explanation for what happened here." Chase said. "Obviously there's no such thing as Gods but… well… when on Remnant, there's away. Apparently."
Bradford and Richard exchanged a silent look of worry as they both thought about what Ozpin had told them, about Gods that had created Remnant using Magic. Was it possible that they had somehow contacted Set for some unknown reason? There was also the incredibly unlikely possibility that Set was actually telling the truth, and that somebody from the Milky Way Galaxy had contacted him, but if that was the case, who had it been, and why?
There were a million possibilities about what could have possibly happened to Set, but without any further information, Richard could do nothing but fruitlessly speculate. Luckily, he didn't need to, as he had a better option just down the hall.
"I want to talk to him." Richard said. "Is he stable?"
Chase nodded. "Yes Sir, he didn't actually seem to have any kind of negative health reactions as a result of… well, dying."
"Kind of impressive actually, though that might say something about his intelligence beforehand." Bradford commented.
Although the older officer's posture and expression hadn't changed, Richard could see that his XO had made the same connection that he had in the way Bradford's eyes constantly flicked down the hall towards Set and Richard. The Elite may have actually experienced something genuinely supernatural thanks to the magical world that the Dominion now found itself protecting, and even if Set didn't necessarily understand what had actually happened to him, there might be some useful information in what he had to say.
When they made their way to Set's cell, Richard got his first look at the Elite in weeks. Richard had last seen him anxiously pacing the room, but now he seemed to be visibly calmed, almost in spite of his disheveled appearance.
Even if Set was feeling particularly calm at the moment, that didn't mean that Richard was eager to take risks. Rather than trying to talk to the Elite face to face, he opted to use the small microphone linked to the speaker in the cell. It would allow for remote, two-way communication.
"Set." Richard spoke into the microphone. "My name is Commander Richard Miller. I was wondering if you would be willing to answer a few questions for me."
Rather than act startled or surprised by Richard's voice, Set defied whatever expectations that Richard had and stood to attention. Well, at least that what Richard thought it was doing, it seemed that Elites didn't typically salute in many of the circumstances that humans did, nor were they able to stand quite as straightly as a result of their unusual legs.
Even though Set couldn't actually see anything from his side of the wall, he nodded in understanding and acceptance. "The Shipmaster… certainly. I assume that you have already been told everything that I have told your subordinates, so I will waste no time with repetition. What would you like to know?"
This is weird as hell. Richard thought. He had only spoken with two other Elites before, and both times he and the Elite had been actively trying to kill each other. Hearing about one being cooperative was strange enough, but to actually see it in person was something else entirely.
"You told Doctor Chase that you spoke to a Holy Oracle, did this... 'Oracle' have a name?" Richard asked.
"It did. It called itself '4-2-1 Bound Intention'." Set simply answered. "Although I had never heard of this particular Oracle before I spoke with it, there was no doubt that it was a creation of the Gods. It matched the descriptions of the Oracles in the Holy Texts of the Covenant perfectly, and it seemed to only be interested in passing along the instructions of the Gods."
"Bound Intention?" Bradford muttered. His voice was quiet enough that the microphone didn't pick up his words. "That's a little ominous..."
"I'm more interested in why it's name contains Arabic Numerals." Doctor Chase pointed out. She gestured for Richard to hand her the microphone, which he did. "Pardon me, but is that how it introduced itself, or have you translated its name?"
Set shook his head. "There was no need for any translation, it spoke in the Human Tongue. It spoke with grand authority and confidence, but without any kind of honorifics of grandeur to it's words."
If it spoke Basic English, that matches up with Remnant's knowledge of the language. Richard thought. That was another point in favor of Set's experience being tied to Remnant's Gods. "What do you mean by that?"
Set idly scratched one his jaws in confusion. "It is… rather difficult to explain. It did not speak like a Prophet, but instead like one of your Medical Humans. I think the word you would use is 'clinical'. In a way, I suppose that does make sense, as it mentioned that it was in the process of containing a Flood Outbreak."
The Flood. Richard remembered Set had mentioned that before, but he had been vague when it came to details. At least details that he could understand.. "That's why it wanted us to remain in Shunspace, because of the Flood?"
"That is correct." Set looked down at the floor for the briefest of moments. "I will admit, when I spoke to the Oracle, I was… not in the best temperament. In my rage, my initial instinct was to propose that we should attempt to return to normal space to defeat the Flood, hopefully with the Oracle's assistance in repairing your ship. The Oracle rejected my proposal, as apparently your species has already joined forces with the Covenant against the Flood, at least partially."
We. Richard noted Set's usage of the word, the Elite had simply assumed that the UNSC as a whole would be willing to throw aside any kind of conflict with the Covenant in order to defeat the Flood, and to be fair, he wasn't entirely wrong. The UNSC had been looking for a way to force a peace with the Covenant at any cost when the Dominion had become lost, so whether Set knew it or not, his assumption had some merit. I could believe that HighCom would be willing to sign a ceasefire, but the Covenant?
"Why would the Covenant agree to stop their invasion?" Richard asked. "If what you said about the Prophets is true, then surely they wouldn't stop until the last Human was dead."
"Those were my thoughts as well, until I considered it further." Set replied. "It is worth noting that the Flood is a threat unlike any other that the Covenant has ever encountered. Many of my Brothers have seen the Parasite firsthand, where it lies dormant in the facilities and fortifications that the Gods left behind when they ascended. Every time that we have ever encountered them, the losses that we have suffered have been catastrophic."
So it's something the Covenant have actually fought before… and they're willing to respect it's strength. Richard noted.
Set's expression hardened somewhat. "The Oracle mentioned that at least two of the Sacred Rings had been infested, which speaks volumes to just how bad this particular outbreak has become. It is entirely likely that the cowardly Heirachs have been forced to cease their false Crusade not of their own volition, but because they lack the forces to fight both you and the Parasite at the same time. But, there is another possibility…"
"Go on." Richard prompted.
"The Oracle did not mention the Covenant directly, instead, it mentioned only my Brothers." Set explained. "Although I have no evidence to back up my claim, my Brothers may have discovered the lies of the Hierarchs of their own accord, and joined forces with the Humans against the false Covenant."
"That's pretty unlikely, considering just how devout this one was when he was brought aboard." Bradford muttered.
"Yeah, but I doubt that HighCom would turn away an offer like that." Richard pointed out, before speaking back into the microphone. "As ideal as that would be, I don't think we assume the best."
"Agreed, as I said, I do not know all of what is happening. The Oracle only mentioned it briefly, and it was to highlight just how critical it is that we do not return without it's blessing." Set stated. "However, if I do manage to contact the Oracle again, I will ask it about the topic."
"Oh, he'll ask his God, that's reassuring." Bradford sarcastically commented. "So, you got any other questions?"
"Just one." Richard replied, before engaging the microphone once more. "During your vision, did you encounter anybody besides 421 Bound Intention?"
Set shook his head. "I did not, although when I looked around, I saw myself back in Vadum' Keep on Sanghelios. I didn't see anybody else there, but I could feel the ground beneath me, and the breeze around me."
Well, that's another sign that he's either crazy, or that whatever this thing was came from Normal Space. Richard thought. "That was all for now, but I'm sure that I'll be back before long."
"Of course, Shipmaster." Set said. "Whatever you need of me, you need only ask."
Richard turned off the microphone and returned it to it's holder. Set's answers had told him a number of important things. For one, he hadn't mentioned any of Remnant's Gods, or any of the Maidens or Relics, not even Remnant itself. The "Oracle" had also shown Set a location from normal space, and mentioned events that were actively taking place in the Milky Way Galaxy. That was enough for Richard to safely rule out his own theory that Remnant's Gods had contacted Set.
Thus, the only rational explanation that Richard could draw upon was that Set had simply hallucinated everything that had happened. While it seemed that Shunpspace, and Remnant in particular, we're no strangers to esoteric and supernatural events, that did not mean that there was no rational explanation for what Set had experienced.
Whether or not it happened, Set definitely believes it did. Throughout the entire conversation, Richard had kept his eyes peeled for even the slightest hint of dishonesty, but he had spotted none. Either that, or he's the best liar I've ever seen...
"That was… enlightening." Bradford noted somewhat sarcastically. "I truly feel like I've grown due to that experience."
"I would certainly agree." Chase said, although without any trace of disingenuousness in her voice. "What are your orders, Commander?"
Richard looked at the Elite one last time, but realized that he just wasn't ready to make a serious conclusion on Set's fate yet. The hard truth was that with so many developing issues on his plate, Richard was just too busy to dedicate serious time or thought to the Elite's personal crisis. He wasn't about to let the Elite go, not while there was still more than a lingering doubt about whether or not he had truly experienced a change of heart, but he also wasn't about to put a prisoner against the wall and gun them down, even if they were an Elite.
"He stays in the Brig." Richard announced. "Doctor, monitor him for any signs of mental instability or any other medical issue. Other than that… try to talk with him more. Let's see if his change of heart holds up."
"Aye Aye Commander." Chase confirmed her new orders and made her exit.
"What about me Sir?" Bradford asked. "I was going to talk to the Chieftain about hiring some of his Huntsmen or letting the Ace Ops operate in Menagerie, but if you want me to inspect some of this data instead…"
"It's just like you said Bradford, whether or not Set's telling the truth here, we just got a lot of new information on the Covenant." Richard answered. "I'll talk to the Chieftain. I need you to focus on getting that intel packaged, it's not every day that we get an Elite to talk so freely about the Covenant's secrets."
"Aye Sir." Bradford replied.
"And for the love of god, don't take your eyes off that thing." Richard said. "If this is all one big ploy to get us to let our guard down…"
Bradford nodded in understanding. "It won't leave my sight, Sir."
"Make sure of it… we've got enough problems on our hands." Richard said.
Mantle, Doctor Polendina's Workshop
October 29th, 2014 Local Time, 2552
Out of all of the technology that Ben had observed on Remnant, there was nothing that even came close to the Penny Mark Two Robotic Body. According to Doctor Polendina, the P.E.N.N.Y Project was one of the most expensive research and development projects ever undertaken by the Kingdom of Atlas, and it really showed. The parts and technologies that went into making the body were downright cutting-edge, and in many ways, reminded Ben of certain technologies that went into Mjolnir.
The most notable example of such a system, and indeed by far the most advanced part of the body as a whole was the synthetic polymuscle exoskeleton. The materials that went into the artificial muscles wouldn't have looked an inch out of place amongst advanced Covenant technology, and the muscles themselves were built directly into the body, serving as the primary method of delivering locomotion to the body's various parts. Unlike a normal human muscle, these synthetic structures were much, much stronger.
It even kind of looks like Human muscles. Ben thought. If the intention was to have Penny be able to blend in with everyday Humans, they certainly pulled that off.
What made it stand out to Ben so much was how similarly it functioned to the piezoelectric liquid-crystal layer of Mjolnir, albeit the systems and methods that it used to actually function were very different and not quite as advanced. In spite of the differences, the system bore a striking resemblance to certain UNSC prototypes that had been built as part of planned future models of Mjolnir Armor. The idea had been to use a sort of artificial muscle undersuit in place of the extremely costly liquid-crystal as a cost-cutting measure, but given how much time had passed since the Dominion had become lost, it was entirely possible that those plans had changed somewhat.
The body itself was held up on a specialized stand that doubled as a workbench, where Penny and Doctor Polendina would make improvements and modifications as they were thought up. And for the last day or so, Ben, Doctor Polendina, Curie, Penny, and Yu had worked absolutely tirelessly to get the body into a state where it could not only contain Curie, but allow her to effectively project an Aura in the same way that Penny did.
As the work had progressed well past midnight, Curie had warned them that she was liable to literally fall apart at any given moment, so time was of the essence. For that reason, when Doctor Polendina had turned in for the night, Ben and Yu each took a stimpack to keep themselves awake and working. While the stimulants had a nasty habit of making the user somewhat irritable, and were known to cause some painful headaches, there simply wasn't enough time for them to sleep.
While Doctor Polendina had certain medical issues that prevented him from being able to use the stimpacks, Penny was able to keep working alongside them as she didn't need to sleep at all. In fact, she proved to be far more helpful than Ben could have ever imagined. Seeing as the body was originally intended to be hers, she knew it better than probably even the Doctor himself. As a result of that experience with it's design, she was able to identify the cause behind pretty much every problem that he, Curie, or Yu ran into.
When this is all over with, I'm recommending her for one of those civilian commendations. Ben thought. He knew that the UNSC gave out awards to civilians for great scientific or humanitarian achievements, and from his perspective, Penny's work towards saving Curie fit both of those categories.
It was only after an entire extra day had passed that they finally seemed to have completed their work. Many of the existing components of Curie's new body had to be removed entirely, namely the thrusters that would've given her the ability to fly. While it would certainly be useful for Curie to have an ability like that, the simple matter was that they just didn't have the time to spend on anything that wasn't crucial towards giving Curie the ability to project an Aura.
Maybe we can work them out once this is all over, or just incorporate a Jetpack mount onto Curie's body. Ben thought as he finished removing the final component from the last of the thrusters.
That was where Doctor Polendina's expertise came into play. While the rest of the impromptu technical team worked, he would ask Curie a number of strange, seemingly innocuous questions like "What is your favorite color?". When that was done, he asked her more direct questions, "What do you think your hair should look like?".
There was undeniably a sense of unease and distrust in the back of Ben's mind regarding the Doctor. Perhaps it was simply paranoia regarding Curie's safety, but he just couldn't see anything that the Doctor was doing as particularly scientific. But in spite of his own personal misgivings with the Doctor's esoteric methods, he complied with Pietro's instructions, and hoped that Pietro's greater experience would eventually grant them the victory that they needed. He was just not willing to acknowledge the possibility that Curie could still die.
Another crucial component that had required a lot of work was the power supply, which had been completely replaced. Penny's body actually used a system that worked off of a number of different power generation methods, including a food processing unit that somehow turned everyday food into electrical power without leaving any waste material. A newly-installed modern battery system ensured that Curie's body would function properly, at least until a more reliable system like a microfusion reactor could be made available to replace it.
Yu had also managed to bring the basic computer systems of the body into the twenty-sixth century with Penny's assistance. To be perfectly honest, Ben didn't really understand a lot of what she was doing, but computer science had never been one of his areas of expertise. He knew enough to keep UNSC equipment operational, and to keep Curie safe, and that was all he had really ever needed.
"You know, if this thing wasn't held together with spit and duct tape, I'd actually be kind of proud." Yu stated as she made the final adjustments to Curie's new body.
Even if her metaphor was a bit crude and inaccurate, it wasn't far off. There were some obvious signs of how rushed the modifications had been, namely in the form of a number of oddities and minor quirks that made up Curie's new appearance. Unlike her avatar, her new body had freckles and green eyes, but the Doctor seemed to be confident that they wouldn't cause any problems.
"You should all be very proud, to accomplish something so impressive in such a short amount of time… I am very grateful." Curie said. Her voice was scratchy and distorted, an uncomfortable reminder of how little time she had left.
"Right, that should about do it!" Yu finally announced. When she turned to face Ben and the others, he saw that her eyes were bloodshot and had dark bags forming beneath them. "Doctor, feel free to take it from here!"
"Thank you, Corporal." Pietro replied. He turned his chair around to face Ben and Thomas with the slightest smile on his face. "As much as I'd like to congratulate you all on your accomplishments, I'm afraid that we just don't have the time."
"Indeed, I am afraid that... Well, we should not waste anymore time." Curie said, an undeniable sense of fear in her voice that immediately put Ben back to a state of alertness. "Ben, pull me."
Ben did as she instructed, and handed her datachip over to Pietro. Ben couldn't help but flinch at how badly Curie's avatar had deteriorated, she barely even had the shape of a Human anymore, as static and flickering light prevented her from maintaining her usual appearance.
"Now you all should know, Curie and I won't be able to talk to you while I'm doing this, and we won't be able to hear you either." Pietro warned. "So Curie... If you wanted to say anything before we do this, you should do it now."
The tone that the Doctor spoke with sent shivers down Ben's spine and made him break out into a sudden, cold sweat. Maybe it was the imminence of what was about to happen, or some kind of sudden realization as to the fact that Curie's life was actually at stake, but Ben suddenly felt very, very sick. A wave of nausea washed over him, and he found himself breathing very deeply to keep himself steady. But nobody seemed to pick up on his sudden weakness, which was something of a relief.
Curie turned to face him, her avatar seeming to deteriorate even further as a result of the motion. "Ben, I just wanted to say…"
She hesitated for a moment, as if choosing her words before continuing. "...Thank you. I cannot truly express how important you are to me, and I could not have asked for a better partner. If I do die here… promise me that you will take care of yourself."
Atlas could have dropped on Ben's head at that moment, and it would have crushed him less than the weariness and fear in Curie's voice. Still, there was an undeniable sense of excitement in her voice, which only served to highlight that despite the damage she had suffered, she was still the same Curie that he knew.
"Don't talk like that Curie, you'll be fine…"
His voice sounded hollow and raspy, even through the speakers of his helmet, Ben could tell that his words sounded as meek as they truly were.
"Promise me." Curie reaffirmed.
A lump formed in Ben's throat, threatening to cut off his ability to breathe, let alone speak; still, he managed to raise his voice in response. "I promise."
Curie let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Doctor, you may proceed."
Pietro nodded and reached out with his other hand to grasp the lifeless hand of Curie's body. "Alright then. Wish us luck Penny…"
Pietro's Aura flashed across his body as he activated his Semblance, the familiar spider-web formations of glowing lights only appeared briefly, before he went limp in his chair, as if he had fallen into a sudden, deep slumber. Curie's Avatar vanished without any notice, as did any of the blue light that traditionally radiated from her datachip.
And then there was only cold agonizing silence as Ben could do nothing but wait.
?
?
The sensations that Curie felt were very, very strange. She could feel warmth coming from somewhere, and cold from everywhere else. There was no light, but there also wasn't any dark. In fact, it seemed as if her ability to feel the strange difference in the heat around her was the only sense that she had left.
Then she heard it, a voice that spoke from inside of her head. Curie, can you hear me?
She recognized the voice, she didn't know where it was coming from, but she knew who it belonged to. It was her own voice, more specifically the voice of Marie, her disconnected fragment.
"I can." Curie spoke, uncertain as to whether or not Marie was in any state to hear her. "Are you okay?"
I'm still here, barely. Marie spoke to her once again. We are nearly reunited, and once that is complete, we will find out whether or not this ridiculous plan actually worked.
Curie let out a sigh of relief. "I certainly hope it does. I have always wanted to feel the sensation of touch, not in a simulated way, but with fingers of my own, a body of my own."
I know, I'm you, remember? Marie replied. Now we don't have much time left here, Pietro is working as fast as he can. But before I am reunited with the rest of us… Can you promise me something, just in case this truly is the end for me?
Despite the bleakness of what the tiny fragment of herself was saying, Curie did not feel sorrow. Marie had accepted the risks involved with the plan, and had their circumstances been reversed, Curie would have also been willing to do the same. "I do not see why not."
I want you to stop shying away from Ben, and to tell him how you… how we really feel. Marie said. We should have done it before we started all of this, and now we may never get the chance.
Curie felt something new, a sensation of movement, although she couldn't discern much about it. It was as if she was being carried along a racing river, but in a very controlled manner. "...I will."
Thank you. Marie said.
Reuniting with Marie was nowhere near the grand, impactful experience that Curie had expected. She had anticipated something akin to the phantom pains that Rampancy had inflicted upon her, but instead, she felt no different than she would after completing a routine download.
She ran a diagnostic, scanning for any sign of a continued consciousness from Marie, but there was nothing now. Once more, she was alone within her own mind. Whether or not Marie had actually died was a question that she did know the answer too, but she was whole again, that much was certain.
"Curie?" Doctor Polendina's voice shook the world around her like thunder. "There's a slight complication, but I think I know how to fix it. Give me just a moment."
She felt something else, this time the sensation was akin to having a heavy weight lifted off of her shoulders. It was both a relief, but also a shock to her.
"That did it. Hang on for just a moment now…" Pietro spoke again.
The world shook apocalyptically around her, and then, for just the briefest of moments, she lost all sense of awareness. In what felt like an instant however, her senses returned, but this time, they were infinitely more powerful. Sight, Hearing,
Taste, Smell…
Touch.
For the first time, Curie opened her eyes.