Menagerie, White Fang Camp

November 4th, 2232 Local Time, 2552

Standing in the cold jungle air, Doctor Watts watched as Vermillion ran her newly-installed Cybernetic arm through a series of ruthless durability trials. Normally, a patient who had just received a cybernetic transplant was supposed to rest before they started playing with their new limb, but Vermillion had made her opinion on his medical suggestion very clear.

The more time I spend here… I swear, I must be losing brain cells. Watts thought as Vermillion punched, chopped, and slashed at all sorts of things with her new arm, seemingly trying her damndest to break it. Thankfully, ample experience during his time in Atlas, and later while serving Salem, had taught him how to make all of creations idiot-proof.

"Well Doctor, I'll give you this; it's tougher than I thought it would be." Vermillion commented as she wrapped her mechanical hand around a small tree, before squeezing the trunk with enough force to send splinters flying and sending the top half of the tree falling to the ground. "Stronger too."

A compliment. Hmm, perhaps she isn't that stupid after all. He thought. "It's far from my first foray into Cybernetics, although I admit, it isn't my finest work. If I had access to my old lab… well, there's no sense living in the past when the future's so close."

She narrowed her eyes in barely-disguised contempt, or at least, that's what he figured she was feeling. "Agreed. So, when can I get back into the fight?"

"Under normal circumstances, I would suggest three days of bed rest, ideally with a doctor supervising your condition-" Watts remarked, before another spray of soft splinters filled the jungle around them both. "-give yourself twelve hours to get adjusted to the weight, and come get me if you feel like anything is wrong. Remember, if the mount starts bleeding, do not scratch it or try to seal the cut, let me fix it."

"That's acceptable." Vermillion remarked. "You know, for a creepy, mysterious, and supposedly-dead Atlesian scientist, you seem oddly willing to serve the Faunus."

Watts rolled his eyes, he should have expected this topic to surface again. "I am not serving the 'Faunus', I am serving my master, and they just happen to want you to win. I have no quarrel with your kind or the UNSC, I just do as I'm told."

His choice of words was not lost on her. "You talk like a slave."

"I am no slave!." Watts spat. "I am greatly respected by my colleagues, and-"

He caught himself before he could say more, it was all too crucial that he didn't reveal anything that could lead the White Fang towards the truth.

"-My apologies. I'm afraid that I can't say much on the topic. The anonymity of my superior is something that I am not able to risk, especially with the possibility that the UNSC may go after them."

Technically the truth, but not even close to honest. Watts thought, satisfied at his lie.

Vermillion, however, was clearly more perceptive than he had given her credit for. "Uh-huh. Look, I'm not even gonna pretend like I buy that bullshit. I doubt there's even any Humans out there that want the UNSC gone anymore, you're all too happy to roll over and kneel at the promise of alien tech."

"Don't be so sure." Watts replied. "Make no mistake, the UNSC has plenty of enemies, although most of them aren't willing to fight on battlefields, they prefer to use politics. I believe the Schnee Dust Companies' rather bloody fate served as something of a statement as to how the UNSC would treat their enemies."

"That figures. Humans always love to fight with their pens, and never their weapons." Vermillion dismissively said.

Watts gestured towards her robotic arm. "And how has fighting with weapons turned out for you, hmm?"

Vermillion fixed him with a narrow glare, before turning her back to him. "Enough of this. Lady Khan will want to know that I am fit to fight again."

"Of course." Watts said, grateful for the chance not to have to share his presence with a moron, however briefly. "I'll be right behind you, I just need to speak with my colleague first."

"Frankly, Human, I really couldn't care less." Vermillion bitterly shot back, before disappearing into the brush.

What an apathetic cretin, and they claim to represent the best of the Faunus? No wonder they're losing, they're sustained purely off of arrogance. Watts thought. Even so, every UNSC soldier who dies in this war is one less that we'll have to deal with later.

He found Tyrian in the White Fang camp, enthusiastically teaching a small class of the most "promising" White Fang members how to better use their blades. At first, he had been reluctant to let Tyrian attempt to advise the terrorists, presuming that they may be able to detect his more deep-rooted mental issues. In the end, he had forgotten one crucial thing, a lot of the people in the White Fang were absolutely mad.

"-Remember, you don't want to get the blade stuck in the ribcage. You need to be quick and smooth, otherwise you will be the one suffering a painful demise, not them." Tyrian explained with an almost loving focus, before he looked up and noticed Watts, and his enthusiasm was immediately replaced with a look of disappointment. "Ugh, what do you want? Can't you see that we're busy?"

The rest of Tyrian's class of budding psychopaths turned to look at him with equally unpleasant gazes, which Watts found admittedly disturbing. "I'm terribly sorry for the interruption, but I need to speak with Mr. Callows for a minute… privately."

There were mumbles and complaints at what he said, but Tyrian silenced them all with a soft nod, and he followed Watts to the edge of camp.

"I admit Doctor, at first, I found these people to be miserable and weak." Tyrian remarked once they were out of earshot. "But now I can see that I just wasn't looking close enough! There are some truly enlightened people here, our Goddess was right to believe they were useful!"

"Silence, and listen." Watts replied. After an entire day surrounded by morons, he was not in the mood to deal with Tyrian's nonsense. "I've been trying to contact the Queen, and so far, nothing has worked. Leonardo confirmed that he's been having the same problem."

Tyrian shrugged disinterestedly and rolled his eyes. "And?"

Watts resisted the urge to plant his face in his palms and scream in frustration. "Which means that something must have happened! What if she was attacked?!"

Tyrian shook his head and softly chuckled. "Have you no faith, good Doctor? Our goddess is probably working on some plan that's far greater than ourselves at the moment! We are where we need to be. Let us do our part, and perhaps when we are done, she will dignify us with another task."

"...I certainly hope that you're right." Watts grumbled. "Come, we should return before anyone notices our absence."

Meanwhile

Sienna Khan's Tent

In spite of all of the chaos surrounding the White Fang, Sienna couldn't help but smile when Vermillion entered her tent with a new arm and a familiar, confident stride. "You look better, how are you feeling?"

Vermillion spun her arm around 360 degrees on it's mount, and made a fist. "Powerful. How's Adam?"

Sienna's smile vanished almost immediately. "Not well, he's gotten sick from his wounds. We have the medicine to help him, but he's in no shape to fight."

"Hmph, and he didn't even lose an arm, the big baby." Vermillion commented. Despite her harsh words, there was clearly a bit of concern in her voice, but she swiftly banished it. "So, without Adam, who's going to lead our counterattack against the UNSC?"

"Excellent question." Sienna answered.

There was no doubt that even with the White Fang now scattered across Menagerie in makeshift camps, there would need to be some kind of answer to the UNSC's attack on the Headquarters. Normally, such a responsibility would fall to Adam, but not only was he out of action, he had led the mission in Kuo Kuana to utter disaster. Another loss like that was unacceptable right now, and so a more cautious leader would be needed, but who?

Vermillion instinctively put her mechanical arm up to her chin as she thought. "Hmm. What about Trifa or Yuma? Or better yet, what about Fennec and Corsac?"

Sienna shook her head. "We haven't heard from Fennec and Corsac since the Headquarters fell, and I need Yuma and Trifa where they are if we're going to have any hope of staying in contact with the rest of our Brothers and Sisters."

Privately, Sienna also considered Clay for the task, but quickly disqualified him. He was a mechanic first and a fighter second, and while they would need caution for the upcoming attack, Clay was a fine example of how a leader could be too cautious. He would be far better back in camp, trying to improve the White Fang's supply situation.

In her thinking, Sienna had neglected to notice the impatient look on Vermillion's face. "Forgive me if this is a bit forward Lady Khan, but what about me?"

Sienna raised an eyebrow, but quickly lowered it, as she realized that Vermillion made a decent point. She had the same drive as Adam, and while she admittedly shared some of his recklessness, she was nowhere near as aggressive as he was. There was, of course, one major problem with sending Vermillion.

"What about your arm?" Sienna asked. "You haven't had it for more than a couple of hours, and you want to go into battle with it?"

Vermillion glanced down at her arm once more, and while there was a hint of trepidation in her eyes, her confident grin showed the complete opposite. "I admit, I wasn't feeling it at first… but now? It's just like I have my old arm back."

Still doubtful, Sienna pushed on. "And what about the Doctor? Is he convinced you're ready for battle?"

Vermillion shook her head and answered in a low, somewhat angry whisper. "Lady Khan, would you trust a Human over me?"

"That Human has medical training relevant to your current situation, you do not." Sienna pointed out, she was not in the mood for a lengthy debate. "There is a very good reason that I did not order you to construct your own new arm. Now, tell me what he said."

Vermillion sighed. "He suggested that I should wait at least twelve hours before I try doing anything. You can ask him yourself, if you'd like."

"I'll take your word for it." Sienna replied, making a mental note to talk to the Doctor herself in spite of what she said.

Is there really nobody else better suited to this? Sienna wondered. The problem that she faced wasn't a lack of capable leaders, it was that they were all busy doing something else. It didn't help that a handful of her best men were still stranded up in Vale with that bumbling moron Torchwick, completely unable to return to the fight where they were needed most.

"Very well, you may lead the mission, but I want to discuss this with you further in the morning." Sienna reluctantly said. "For now, assemble a team and some equipment, and start putting a plan together. We want something small, hopefully we can avoid drawing the UNSC out in force."

"It will be done." Vermillion replied.

"Good, you're dismissed." Sienna said, perhaps a bit more harshly than she intended, but Vermillion didn't seem to mind.

A fresh amputee and some undersupplied warriors against a professional military force from beyond the stars… What could go wrong?

UNSC Dominion, Foundry

November 5th, 0032 Local Time, 2552

Even with an android's body, Curie still had no need to sleep. As such, while the bulk of the Dominion's crew were fast asleep, she was still awake to continue her work, along with whoever else was on the second shift. With Auntie Dot now serving as the Dominion's shipboard AI, and with Penny currently busy with some maintenance on herself, it was finally time for Curie to return to unravelling perhaps the greatest mystery that she'd been confronted with so far.

How can something so intelligent lack even the most simple concentration? Curie wondered as Funk once again diverted his attention to another project, in this case, repairing a broken field telephone. For the moment, she had given up on getting him to focus on one single thing, and had instead simply let the Engineer work at his own speed. So far, he had a dozen separate half-repaired and examined things scattered across the workspace that he had claimed.

She had made some progress earlier, and she had discovered that Funk was most responsive to orders that were given to him by Set. Whether it was because Set had originally summoned him, or Set's mysterious connection to the "Oracle", it was impossible to say. To confirm her theory, Set was temporarily escorted out of his cell, under armed guard, and brought to one of the Hangars with Funk. There, Set would instruct Funk to conduct repairs on a damaged aircraft, in this case, a Sparrowhawk Jump Jet.

Funk had wordlessly complied, and for a little over an hour, focused on that one singular task. Not only did Funk fix the aircraft in perhaps a thousandth of the time that it would have taken the mechanics, but a brief flight test confirmed that Funk had made a few minor improvements to the avionics systems and engines.

At first, she had been overjoyed, thinking that perhaps this was the breakthrough needed to get Funk to listen to her instructions. Unfortunately, it seemed that she lacked the same authority as Set, and even when Set had directly ordered Funk to follow Curie's instructions, the Engineer refused. His excuse, however, had given her a lead as to why;

"I am sorry Warrior, but protocol forbids me from taking orders from unknown constructs."

Construct. That was the word that Funk used to describe her. It wasn't technically incorrect, she was an artificial construction, but it was certainly unusual.

It would obviously be inconvenient to have to keep dragging Set out of his cell every time that they needed Funk to do something, so a better solution needed to be sought. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.

Beside her, a holotank flickered to life, and a grid of slowly flashing blue lights formed over it. "Is everything well, Curie?"

Curie sighed. "No Dot, I am afraid not. I have made very little progress. I fear that Funk may only be subordinate to Set, and I cannot say for certain why."

Dot, as expected, was silent for several seconds. As a Dumb AI now responsible for managing the whole of the Dominion, as well as the rest of the UNSC's operations on Remnant, Dot's processing power was practically always at a premium. Thankfully, she was also nothing more than sophisticated programming, so if Dot overloaded herself, she wouldn't suffer the same fate that Curie had, she would just work a bit more slowly.

After seven seconds, which might have been minutes for an AI, Dot spoke up once more. "I currently have two idle crewmen available for tasking, if you require assistance."

Curie immediately opened her mouth to refuse, she did not need an inexperienced deckhand getting in the way of her research. She paused however, when Dot's suggestion gave her another idea.

"No thank you, but if you don't mind, I would like to request that Benjamin-021 be temporarily released from Sickbay and sent to the Foundry." Curie said, before quickly adding a brief addendum to her request. "Tell the Doctors that I do not intend to allow him to injure himself further."

"Of course." Dot said. "Shall I also requisition a candlelit dinner and some flowers?"

Immediately, Curie felt a stark increase in temperature around her face. "I- be silent! I requested no such thing!"

As it turned out, Dot being temporarily merged with Curie had led to her remembering everything that Curie did during their time together. While this was fortunate for the rest of the crew, as it meant that they did not have to program Dot with a considerable amount of new information, it was a little bit more awkward for Curie. Seeing as Dot had memories of everything that had happened to Curie during her period of Rampancy, she was also very much aware of the feelings that Curie held, and her teasing had been expectedly ruthless.

"Understood. I will reschedule your date." Dot cheekily replied, notably not answering her question. "I have sent your message to Sickbay."

"...Thank you." Curie replied through gritted teeth, wondering how exactly something that wasn't sentient could be sassy. Perhaps Dot was simply made that way, or perhaps she's inherited some of my personality from our time together…

As expected, Ben walked into the Foundry several minutes later, clad in his Mjolnir Undersuit and looking substantially less dazed than he had earlier. He kept both of his eyes firmly on Funk as he approached her, as if expecting the Engineer to attack at any moment..

"Hey Curie." Ben greeted her, but he made no attempt to disguise how distracted he was by the alien. "What is it… does it always just float like that?"

She couldn't help but giggle at his confusion. "Indeed it does, and may I say, it is good to see you again. I could certainly use your help with this."

"Oh, I see, you just want me for my technical skills." He teasingly replied.

Curie shook her head and felt her cheeks flush once more, but smiled warmly anyway. "Oh you… you have been talking to madame Fairfire too much."

Ben gave her a smile, and thankfully did not tease her any more than that. "So, you said that you needed some help with the alien?"

"I'm afraid so." Curie confirmed. Over the next few minutes, she brought him up to date on the latest happenings with Funk, all while the Engineer merrily inspected and disassembled a broken Atlesian laser rifle, seemingly oblivious to the discussion concerning him.

As Curie finished her explanation, Funk floated over and happily handed her some kind of device that it had constructed from the spare parts. A brief examination revealed it to be some kind of laser pointer that she would have to examine later.

"Here you go." Funk stated. "I will return."

Funk started to float away, but before he got far, Ben spoke up. "Wait."

Amazingly, the Engineer actually listened to his command, and floated back to face Ben directly. "What do you require, Reclaimer?"

Ben turned to face her, seemingly just as surprised as she was that his instruction had actually been followed. "I uh… Curie, what now?"

"Try giving him a basic command." Curie answered.

Ben looked at her somewhat doubtfully, but after a moment's thought, he seemingly came up with an idea. Cautiously, he walked up to Funk, and extended a hand out to the Engineer.

"Shake."

Curie suddenly felt a strong urge to bury her head in her hands and sigh. Sacre bleu… Why would that be the first thing that he thought of?!

Her exasperation faded quickly however, as Funk gingerly extended an appendage and shook "hands" with Ben.

"Good. Sit."

Funk released Ben's hand and gently floated down until his tendrils touched the ground.

"You must be joking." Curie said, utterly stunned by the display. After hours and hours of her trying and failing to get Funk to even sit still, Ben had managed to walk in and get Funk to do tricks like a pet.

"Doesn't seem like it." Ben remarked, before he seemingly noticed something lying on one of the other workstations. "Hey Funk, can you get me that drill?"

"Certainly." The Engineer replied.

As expected, Funk floated over to the workstation, retrieved the tool, and floated back over to deliver it. "...Thank you, Funk."

"You are welcome, Reclaimer." Funk replied. "I shall return to my duties."

Ben didn't stop him, instead returning to Curie with an expression somewhere between triumph and bemusement. "Well, what do you think? Is that what you were hoping for?"

"Well, kind of, yes." Curie answered. "I would have preferred to be able to issue commands to him myself, but this will suffice. From now on, you will assist me in my efforts to figure out where he came from."

And hopefully, keep you from doing something stupid out of boredom as well. Curie silently added.

"Perfect." Ben replied. "Where do we start?"

Curie opened her mouth to reply, but let out a groan of annoyance once she saw what Funk had been doing while she and Ben had been speaking. He'd opened up one of the access panels to a Cyclops Powered Exoskeleton, and was making unseen modifications to the vehicle's circuitry. "Well, for starters… kindly stop him."

UNSC Dominion, Bridge

November 6th, 0621 Local Time, 2552

Two days had passed since the rather humiliating results of the wargames with the crew of the UNSC Thunderchild, and in that time, surprisingly little had happened. Progress on the Thunderchild's refits continued to be made, but as it turned out, installing a modern command center on an old battleship was actually quite hard. The search for the White Fang with the Dominion's aircraft and drones continued, but amidst dense rainforests and endless Grimm-infested deserts, they were looking for a needle in a haystack.

To top it off, the White Fang had been worryingly quiet. While it stood to reason that they were probably still reeling from their defeat, he didn't believe that they had been crippled so dramatically. They should have staged some kind of counterattack, but instead, they kept quiet and remained in hiding. It stands to reason that they would operate differently from the Insurrectionists back home… maybe they're still preparing to strike.

In more promising news, the UNSC's new planetary headquarters was nearing the point where it could actually be used, although it likely wouldn't be properly finished for a matter of months. Even so, with a proper barracks complex mostly completed and the bulk of the training grounds finished, it would finally be possible to train some new Marines to replace those who had been lost in battle. All they were waiting on now was for the rest of the recruits to arrive, and even with the bulk of the Dominion's transport craft overseeing the flights, that would take at least another day.

There was also the considerably less important matter of actually putting a name to the base. Auntie Dot had suggested that it should receive the designation Alpha-Two, as it was the second permanent UNSC installation on Remnant. However, such a significant position demanded a less generic name, and accordingly, Thomas had offered up the perfect candidate to name the base after.

Private Alfred Wilson, an ODST attached to Onyx Team, was the first UNSC serviceman to lose his life on Remnant. That was certainly a dubious honor to have, so Richard and Thomas had both figured that being the namesake of the most important UNSC base on Remnant was a more fitting distinction for a Marine who'd made the ultimate sacrifice. Perhaps once we take care of Salem and the Grimm, we can build a nice memorial somewhere around here.

"Commander." Richard was snatched out of his thoughts by Winter, whom he hadn't even seen walk onto the Bridge. "I've just received another transmission from our informant."

Ah, there they are. Richard thought. "Good. Maybe they'll know what the hell the White Fang are actually planning."

Dot put the transmission up on one of the Bridge's monitors, and immediately, Richard noticed something different about the message. The previous warnings from Silver had been recorded in some kind of concrete room, but this video seemingly had no visual feed whatsoever, either being purely recorded through audio, or with the camera lens obstructed.

"Specialist, another attack will happen soon." A familiar garbled voice spoke. "Vermillion Redwood is leading a team of Commandos with the intention to lay a trap for the UNSC somewhere to the west of Kuo Kuana."

Great, so that leaves only half a continent where this could be taking place. Richard grumpily thought. The White Fang's location was the one thing that they really needed to bring the terrorists down, but it seemed that things wouldn't be so easy.

"Once they arrive, the White Fang will transmit a signal where they will pretend to be civilians under attack by the Grimm, and ask for help." Silver explained. "Their intention is to occupy a position where Huntsmen would require a long time to reach, but that the UNSC could easily reach by air to ensure that they take the bait."

"And the White Fang obviously don't want to attack their own Huntsmen, they want us… clever." Bradford remarked.

"I don't know specifically when, but Vermillion departed yesterday. By now, she may be nearing her destination." Silver continued. "How to respond is up to Richard,but I must insist that you alert the UNSC of this ambush."

There was a brief moment of silence on the bridge as Bradford, Winter, and Richard thought over what they had heard, before Bradford broke the silence. "Well, most of that makes sense… But how could Vermillion be leading the attack? She was maimed in Kuo Kuana during the Hostage Crisis."

"Perhaps she has simply decided that she only needs one arm to fight, or intends to lead from the rear." Winter suggested. "As loath as I am to admit it, some of the more dedicated members of the White Fang possess an alarming drive."

"I think that it would be foolish to waste an opportunity like this." Richard answered. "The White Fang will expect to have the element of surprise, so we have a chance to take out some of the White Fang's best fighters. Contact Captain Clark and give him total operational authority over our units in Menagerie, I trust him to see this through."

"Aye Sir." Bradford replied. "Shall I also alert the Chieftain? I'm sure his Huntsmen will want to know about this."

"I suggest that you don't." Winter interjected. Although the interruption was a bit out of line, neither Bradford nor Richard stopped her. Seeing as she was acting as an adviser, she was just doing her job. "While most of Menagerie's Huntsmen are assuredly trustworthy, some are bound to have allegiances to the White Fang, telling them could easily tip them off. . Even worse, we might compromise Silver's cover."

Richard only thought about it for a moment, but really, the decision was an easy one. While keeping the Huntsmen in the dark would probably be seen as a bit hostile, it beat the alternative of potentially losing the opportunity to hit the White Fang where it hurt. "You make a fair point about the Huntsmen, but we will need to tell the Chieftain, it's his country that we're operating in. Bradford, make sure he knows the risks about letting this information go to his men."

Bradford gave a stern nod and turned for the communications console, while Winter gave Richard a look of faint disbelief. "Do you truly believe that the Chieftain will trust you over his own Huntsmen?"

"I do." Richard answered. "But on the off chance that he doesn't, I suppose that it's better to find out now, rather than later down the line. This mission is important, but ultimately not a crisis. One might come up some day, and it would be helpful to know where he places his trust before then. "

Winter nodded. "I suppose there's some wisdom in that. If the worst should happen, there's always the option of retreating to fight another day."

"Hopefully we won't need too." Richard remarked.

Author's note: My apologies for the delay. I took a brief break from writing to help fight some burn-out I was feeling. Things should be back to normal from now on.