Alliman Surface Excavation, Site 2
October 7th, 0942 Atlas Time, 2552 UNSC Military Calendar
As the Marines finished photographing the dead, as well as collecting DNA samples so that they could be identified, Ben and a small team stood watch in the formerly SDC-occupied positions. Fairfire would occasionally spot a Grimm or two that were lagging behind the main offensive, and Ben would put them down. It was a boring task, and he was able to reflect on the battle while he watched for any more incoming forces.
In less than an hour, Ben had received one of the most harrowing experiences of his life. The enemy Specialist had presented a worrying challenge, and it was only thanks to his reliable equipment and the assistance of friendly forces that he was victorious. The massacre in the mines also weighed heavily on his mind, and Ben was uncomfortably reminded of the terrible sights by the smallest things and found himself unable to shake an overbearing feeling of failure.
Ben empathized greatly with those Marines who had been given the task of identifying the dead, as even if it was important work, he knew that they would be forced to see the same things he had.
The Commander had also passed down the order to take everything that wasn't bolted down. Computers, weapons, armor and uniforms, but most crucially, samples of Dust. Apparently it was the source of some of the unusual abilities he had witnessed, such as the enemy Specialists fire manipulation. Evidently there were more types, and Ben made a note to himself to do some research when they returned to the Dominion.
The rest of the enemy equipment also held considerable value. Without any chain of supplies, they would need to either fabricate or barter for whatever they needed. The Dominion was made to carry a far larger complement of Marines than it actually had, and that meant its cargo bays had plenty of room. Another team of Marines loaded whatever they could pilfer into the large cargo container of the Albatross dropship in the courtyard.
We might as well be pirates. Ben realized, as his mind tried to justify the action. Then again, we've stolen from the Covenant before, and these guys aren't much better.
"Ben, we have a tango, four-hundred meters out and closing." Fairfire said from beside him, snapping him out of his thoughts. The slight irritation in her voice giving away her own mood.
"I see him." Ben replied. A few seconds later, he placed a three-round burst from his battle rifle through the head of the approaching Creep, which crumpled to the ground and vanished in a puff of smoke. "He's down. That kind of Grimm seems like some of the weaker ones."
"Don't let your guard down." Fairfire said warily. "Some of those big bird things could come sweeping down on us at any minute..."
"The Albatross is watching over us with its Radar, we'll have some warning." Ben replied, trying to calm her down. In truth, he was also worried about their equipment, the Grimm had proven to be an unpredictable opponent. "If that fails, we still have Hornets in the air."
"I suppose." Fairfire said, although Ben could tell she was still somewhat unconvinced. "I still can't believe that only thirteen of them lived..."
Well, I was trying to avoid thinking about it. Ben awkwardly thought, grinding his teeth slightly in frustration, a bad habit of his.
"I encourage you to try to remember that we did what we could, and that without our intervention, it is likely there would not have been survivors." Curie argued, although Ben noticed that she had also been quiet up to this point.
"Yeah, but this still feels like an evac gone south." Fairfire said sourly. "I was hoping that without the Covies, things might be different."
"We'll just have to make them different." Ben responded, but was interrupted by the chirp of his and Fairfire's commlinks.
"Staff Sergeant, we're just about done here." A voice came over TEAMCOM. "Give us maybe thirty seconds, and we'll have this bird full."
"Copy, let us know when. As soon as this place is empty, we're bugging out." Fairfire responded, which received a brief acknowledgement.
"I will admit, I am eager to leave this place." Curie said, only speaking once Fairfire was done.
"Me too, Curie." Fairfire quietly replied. Ben didn't speak, but he didn't need to, they already knew he agreed.
"Hey, Ben. When do you think Jorge will be in the fight again?" Fairfire suddenly asked, interrupting the silence. "We're gonna need some help if the rest of the mines are going to be like this."
"He's a Spartan, he'll be back in the fight in no time." Ben answered, although privately, he suspected that Jorge would need more time.
"Hopefully, Nathan too." Fairfire said, worry occupying her voice.
UNSC Dominion, Bridge
October 7th, 1123 Menagerie Time, 2552 UNSC Military Calendar
Richard wasn't afraid to admit that he was disturbed by the outcome of the mission. The report on his datapad listed off the events of the battle, and it left a lot to be desired. Not only had they failed to rescue many of the slaves, but the losses they had suffered carried a concerning message, that they were not as powerful as they thought. Still, the Marines had performed exceptionally, and even while split up, Fireteam Onyx proved their worth once again.
Of particular note were two extraordinary events performed by the men on the ground, when Ben had defeated the enemy Specialist, leading to his capture. As well as the actions of a Marine marksman who had demonstrated exemplary accuracy, which had saved his squad from becoming pinned down. He made a small note reminding himself to commend both of them for their actions, as well as issue a disciplinary action to the pilot "Fireball" for performing an unauthorized airstrike. Although he also noted that her actions had saved the recon detachment, so perhaps a lighter punishment was in order.
They had already known the nature of what conditions the slaves were being kept in, but seeing it from the perspective of a UNSC helmet camera somehow made it even worse. All of the Faunus that they had managed to save required medical attention, and would almost certainly require both psychological and physical therapy to make a full recovery.
We don't have the resources to give potentially hundreds of people intensive medical care. Richard realized as he read the subsequent medical summaries. We're going to need some help.
"Ensign Gillespie!" Richard called out, getting the young man's attention.
"Yes, Sir?" He asked, turning his attention away from his terminal.
"Send a message to Chieftan Belladonna, inform him that we are in urgent need of assistance caring for Faunus refugees." Richard hesitated for a moment before cursing his own reluctance. "... and that we would be willing to provide him with substantial medical advances in return for his assistance."
"Aye Sir!" Gillespie responded, setting about his new task immediately.
As he went to return his attention to the reports, Curie composed herself on the holotable before him. "Commander, if I may..."
"Go ahead, Curie." Richard replied, recognizing from the inflection in her tone that she intended to challenge him, and he had a feeling he knew why.
"Are we really going to force these people to barter for our medical advancements?" Curie asked. "That seems... wrong."
Called it. Richard thought, still somewhat melancholy from the report
"We do a lot of "wrong" things Curie, but I believe I understand." Richard responded pointedly. "I have no intentions of holding our medical knowledge hostage, I recognize that we could save a lot of lives, and Dr. Chase has been rather... insistent, that we see about modernizing the medical care of Remnant."
"I am aware, she has been bothering me as well." Curie said with a nod of sympathy. "So, why the bartering?"
"Because while I intend to give away the knowledge freely, we cannot hope to care for all of the refugees this conflict will create, and we will need help." Richard said. "We don't have any rear-echelon troops to handle this for us, and we are not caretakers, we are a military force."
"Why do you not simply ask him to take them? Menagerie is a self-described Faunus nation, I am all but certain that he would accept the request." Curie pointed out.
"Because, Menagerie is a nation with its own troubles, and Ghira offering charity at the expense of his own citizens could cast him in a negative light." Richard explained. "This not only gets our medical knowledge to one of Remnants nations, but it also gives the Chieftain a way to save face while he offers us the help we need."
Curie's facial expression changed to one of understanding. "Politics are so confusing..."
"Yeah, I left ONI for a reason." Richard half-joked.
"While I am here, Lieutenant Commander Bradford and Lieutenant Clark have requested to speak with you." Curie said. "They are currently in the War Room, and have requested that you go to them."
Richard nodded. "Alert them that I'll be down momentarily."
The War Room
Equipped with the largest holotable on the ship, as well as large video screens for displaying inputted footage, the War Room was the perfect place to plan a battle, and the Dominion's had done so many times. It also served as the auxiliary command center of the Dominion, in the event that Bridge was destroyed or rendered inoperable. Bradford stood by the holotable, joined by a small holographic representation of Lieutenant Clark, who was still in Menagerie. In the center of the holotable was a flat map of Mantle, with several dozen red flags positioned around the continent, which Richard recognized as the positions of all SDC owned territories.
"Commander." Clark acknowledged, giving a nod of respect as Richard entered the room, which Bradford also offered.
"What's the situation?" Richard asked, taking his position next to Bradford.
"We were discussing the outcome of our raid on Point Wilhelm-" Clark began.
"Wilhelm?" Richard interrupted, making his lack of understanding evident in his voice.
"We assigned designations for all of the SDC sites, now that we've finished cursory reconnaissance. Some of the original names weren't exactly easy to pronounce." Bradford quickly explained. "The naming structure comes from the strange similarities between Atlas and the former Earth nation of Germany."
Richard nodded. "I understand, but run it past me next time. Proceed, Lieutenant."
Clark cleared his throat. "While we were discussing the recent raid, we came across a larger strategic problem. The enemies unusual abilities mean that Zulu Company will almost certainly suffer extreme casualties in the coming battles if we cannot adapt."
"At our current rate of losses, we will have run out of combat-capable Marines by the time we're halfway through this." Bradford added. "Not only would we be throwing our men into the meat grinder, but they're also irreplaceable."
Richard nodded, their numerical disadvantage was well known to him. "Do you have a solution?"
"We both have different solutions." Clark answered. "And while they aren't mutually exclusive, we will need to prioritize something."
"Lieutenant Oswald also had a suggestion, but he has food poisoning, and is currently in Sick Bay." Bradford added.
Right, dammit. Richard thought, his memory returning. "Clark, make your case."
Clark's hologram made a series of gestures, highlighting six of the red flags on the map. "Our intelligence, combined with physical records we've recovered from the ground, indicate a lack of civilian targets at these positions. Apparently they serve as distribution centers and supply depots."
"Valuable targets." Richard summarized quietly.
"On a larger strategic level, yes." Clark said, before continuing. "I propose precision orbital-bombardment on these positions, as a manner of evening out the scales for our troops. Without the heavy assets located at these sites, the enemy will be vulnerable."
Richard grimaced at the mention of orbital strikes, he'd ordered them before, and the results were not pretty. "Those munitions are not replaceable for the foreseeable future, you realize."
"Neither are our Marines." Clark politely countered, before making another gesture and resetting the holotable to its prior state, with a different position highlighted. "There is a seventh, high-priority target. It's a large drydock facility that is privately owned by a corporation with limited ties to the SDC. Our intel suggests they are constructing military airships for the war effort."
That caught Richard's attention, the Atlesian airships had been a main focus for him, and keeping them out of the hands of the enemy was a priority. "Are civilians present?"
"Almost certainly, they produce vessels for more than the SDC." Clark answered regretfully. "We would be forced to take it down the old-fashioned way, and it would be a bloody battle."
"If I may Commander, I have a proposal to alleviate that, as well as improve the general survivability of our soldiers." Curie suddenly said, her hologram appearing next to the shipyard on the holotable.
"Go ahead." Richard said, his curiosity peaked, Bradford and Clark also listened intently.
"Perhaps the largest advantage the enemy possesses is Aura, acting as a shield against damage." Curie said. "While my official report will still need some work, I can say with a degree of confidence that we can outfit our own troops with Auras."
"You want to make our Marines... magical?" Bradford asked disbelievingly, breaking the silence.
"This may be difficult for you to digest, it certainly was for me, but Aura is not... magic." Curie explained. "It is a well-documented phenomenon, and while I would certainly hesitate to call it a science, its extensive usage and reliable consistency lead me to believe that something entirely natural is causing it."
"If that's the case, why haven't we discovered it ourselves?" Richard asked. "How do you even unlock it?"
"Unlocking your own Aura is extremely complicated, and requires a substantial amount of training and willpower, it would not be feasible for our current use. We would need someone with an unlocked Aura to unlock one of our own Auras, whereupon they will unlock someone else's Aura, and so on." Curie explained. "As for why we haven't discovered it, I do not understand, yet."
"I see no downsides here." Clark observed aloud, and even in holographic form, Richard could see that he was excited. "If we can get all of our troops protective shielding, we could not only make our Marines harder to kill, we would open up entirely new strategies."
"Are there any downsides?" Bradford asked, his tone notably more skeptical.
"A person with an unlocked Aura has the potential to attract more Grimm than normal." Curie conceded. "However, this is a non-issue for the crew of the Dominion, and the Marines are trained to handle the stresses of combat."
"So they would actively track us?" Bradford asked, notably more worried.
"It is not that simple, the person would still need to feel negative emotions in the first place." Curie clarified. "I should have explained that the effect is amplified, meaning that it is more powerful, but not always active."
"Well, that's not so bad, we can handle Grimm." Clark said confidently.
"It would also take several days to equip all of our Marines with Auras, if it was sourced from a single individual." Curie added. "It would take several more to ensure everyone would be trained to a bare minimum level of operation."
"It would still take time, time that the enemy would use to prepare." Richard summarized.
"I recognize that, but I believe the additional survivability for our troops is well worth it." Curie replied unflinchingly.
Richard gave it a brief moment of thought, but the decision was fairly obvious. "We'll certainly look into doing that, but we'll need some assistance from the locals."
"That is all I ask, thank you." Curie said, before vanishing.
"XO, I believe you also had a suggestion for our next action?" Richard asked rhetorically, turning to better listen to Bradford.
"I do, and it's fairly simple. We use economic warfare." Bradford explained. "The Schnee Dust Company is still a business, and that means that we can hurt them directly purely by attacking their profits."
Richard's interest was piqued, and he listened intently. He had given the concept some thought himself, albeit not much.
"We would start by freezing all of their electronic assets, and run malware through the systems that we don't have a use for, neutralize them outright." Bradford said.
"What do you mean by that?" Clark asked. "Shouldn't we destroy whatever they're using?"
"A lot of their systems contain valuable intelligence that's constantly being updated, if we destroyed those systems, we would lose that information source." Bradford answered. "But other systems, especially Radar and automated weapons, are susceptible to Curie's strikes."
Richard frowned, Curie's processing power was already heavily divided between the Dominion and Ben. "Curie already has a lot on her plate. Could we use the Dominion's cyberwarfare suite?"
"It's defensively oriented, but that doesn't mean that we can't use it." Bradford replied. "Thomas had some ideas about using it to house offensive software copied over from Curie, but that's not guaranteed to work."
"Is the software not compatible with the damn computer?" Clark asked disbelievingly. "Are they not made by the same people?"
"Unfortunately not, and that's not even mentioning that the system is hardened to hell and back, and it's going on thirty years old." Bradford said.
I've heard of crazier, much crazier. Richard thought, recalling some of the extremely innocuous systems that ONI had used in the past to completely destroy insurrectionist groups.
"We'll see what we can do with it." Richard said, making his decision immediately, the idea was too good to pass on. "We'll be able to raise hell without setting a boot on the ground."
"Thank you, Sir." Bradford said with a nod of acknowledgement.
"So, where are we going to put our focus?" Clark asked.
He thought for a moment, before making his decision. "We'll divide our focus, we're going to do all three."
Meanwhile
Sickbay
Ben didn't usually visit people in Sickbay, as he normally didn't really have anyone to visit, with the exception of a single occasion where Richard had needed a kidney replaced during Ben's training. He'd found the medical bay at Camp Currahee to be a dreary and solemn place, even while not checked in as a patient, and the Dominion's Sickbay had a similar atmosphere.
Curie had suggested that he visit Jorge, since he had wanted to speak to Ben earlier, and he would be lying if he said that the idea of speaking to the legendary Spartan that he had learned so much about didn't excite him. Unfortunately, Curie couldn't join him, since she was needed by the Commander in her entirety.
He was somewhat surprised when the Chief Medical Officer of the Dominion, Doctor Chase, entered the waiting room. "Sergeant?"
"Doctor." Ben acknowledged, maintaining a more rigid posture as he began to follow her. Although she was a Lieutenant, it was customary to refer to her as Doctor in most circumstances, due to her field of expertise.
"The formality will not be necessary, Spartan." Chase said, somewhat dismissively. "I have a lot to do, but I felt the need to personally request something from you."
"Go on." Ben prompted.
"When you're done speaking with your fellow Spartan, could you make a brief detour and speak with some of the wounded, offer some words of encouragement? I'm sure that you're aware just how bad morale is, what with recent events and all..." she said, her voice indicating a quiet insistence.
Ben only thought about it for a brief moment, but with no assigned duties, it seemed like a good use of his time. It also helped that he greatly enjoyed speaking with the Marines, even outside of his own squad. "I'll see what I can do."
She gave him a look of relief. "Thank you, I can't even begin to explain how much I appreciate this. I've got twelve wounded, two in critical condition, four people in... sorry, I'm rambling."
"Not a problem Doctor, I work with loud people." Ben said, only somewhat jokingly.
She gave a brief chuckle. "Why yes, I suppose you do. Anyway, I'm needed elsewhere, I trust you can find your own way around?"
"Of course, good luck Doctor." Ben said genuinely, before continuing onwards to the patient ward as the Doctor went her own way.
Picking Jorge out was fairly easy, given the large number of vacant beds. Ben was surprised, however, to see Lieutenant Oswald occupying another bed some distance from Jorge's.
"Sergeant!" Thomas said, perking up slightly as Ben walked by, although his voice was strained. "Can you give this notepad up to the Commander when you leave? I would do it myself but I'm a bit..."
"Indisposed?" Jorge offered from down the row.
"Yeah, I guess." Thomas said croakily, handing Ben an old-fashioned paper notepad which had been written on extensively.
"Is this a high-priority?" Ben asked, wondering if he should come back another time.
"No, not very." Thomas said. "And if you don't mind, can you pull the curtain shut?"
"Yes, Sir." Ben said, taking a step back and closing the curtain.
"Thank you, Sergeant. I'm uh, going to try to get some rest." Thomas said from the other side.
Stomach trouble. Ben recognized. His own stomach had malformed slightly during augmentations, and he had been forced onto a strict diet of unusual foods as it had recovered. He's got my sympathy.
As Ben walked over to him, he could tell from Jorge's expressions that he was being sized-up. Ben pulled up a chair, double-checked it's sturdiness, and took a seat next to the man. "Sorry that we didn't get to have proper introductions on the ground, our situation is constantly changing."
"So I've read." Jorge said, gesturing towards the datapad resting on the side table. "So, you said your designation was Gamma right?"
"Gamma-Zero-Two-One." Ben stated.
"So they rolled out another company of threes? That's good news, we're gonna need them, especially with Reach under siege." Jorge commented, a hint of relief in his voice.
Ben tried to make his reaction less visible, but he couldn't help but flinch when he realized Jorge didn't know that Reach was gone. Thankfully, if Jorge did notice his reaction, he didn't say anything.
He gave up his life to save Reach, he's going to be devastated. Ben thought, he had also been demoralized by Reach's fall, and he hadn't even been there.
"We're certainly eager to get into the fight." Ben said, offering a half-truth. "Although I admit I haven't heard from the rest in a bit."
"Ah." Jorge said in recognition, before his focus shifted slightly. "Your helmet, that that the Mark VI?"
"A prototype, but yes." Ben explained, unlatching the atmospheric seal and removing the helmet.
As soon as Jorge got a look at Ben's face, his expression shifted to one of sympathy, noticing the large burn mark covering nearly half of his face. "Nasty burn there, plasma?"
"Plasma pistol, got shot when I was very young. On reflection, I'm quite lucky to have survived, let alone kept the eye." Ben explained, handing over the helmet, allowing Jorge to examine it.
He turned the helmet around to look at the rear, before looking back at the front. "The visor's much larger than mine, reminds me of the Mark IV."
Ben nodded, recognizing that for a long time Jorge would have worn Mjolnir's oldest variant. "That was the main reason I picked it out, plus, it's a lot harder to break."
"Hmm, valuable." Jorge said, tapping on the golden faceplate, before handing it back over. "Makes me wonder if I can get mine fixed up, I remember it being in bad shape."
"I won't lie, it kinda looks like you got pulled into an interdimensional rift." Ben joked, knowing full well how Jorge had gotten to them. "Bad jokes aside, it's gonna take some serious work. I know that none of our techs are trained to work on it, and in the thirty seconds Curie had to poke around in it, she wasn't able to find your A.I."
"I see." Jorge said, with a melancholic tone that Ben could empathize with. "...The A.I, Curie, is she part of your team?"
"Technically, yes. She was part of another project that I never learned much about, but its failure meant that one of their A.I's fragmented." Ben answered. "She normally interfaces directly with my armor in battle."
"I see, so you have the upgraded neural lace?" Jorge asked. "I've only ever heard about those, although apparently my squad leader was field-testing a prototype."
"Commander Carter?" Ben asked, somewhat surprised, he hadn't known that.
"You know him?" Jorge asked.
"Not personally, no." Ben replied. "But we learned about your team in Class, and I later got briefed on some of the others. Curie and I were meant to act as replacements in the event of a casualty."
Jorge gave a hum of deep thought. "I knew there were other Cat 2's out there, but I never figured they had replacements lined up for us."
"It was a secondary assignment." Ben clarified. "I had other assignments besides filling in for casualties."
Jorge gave a chuckle. "That's reassuring... Do you mind if I ask you a favor?"
Ben looked at him quizzically. "What did you need?"
"Two things, one big, one small." Jorge said. "First off, can you have a look at the unit roster for my team? I'm not quite sure what shape they're in. I don't expect your records to be up to date, but they're probably better than mine."
"I'd need the authorization codes." Ben said, putting his helmet back on, reattaching the neural lace in the process.
"November Alpha Two Five Niner Uniform Hotel Alpha." Jorge recited, much to Ben's surprise.
"That's more than a little informal, Sir." Ben said, inputting the code despite its violation of regulations.
"Yeah, well, my own armor is a bit under the weather, I figured yours might do the job just as well. Besides, I can trust a Spartan, I know what it means to earn that armor." Jorge said with a slight shrug.
"Hell of a compliment." Ben said, genuinely humbled. He continued through the menus of the UNSC battle-network, before coming across Noble team's roster, and realizing that all six members were tagged as MIA. He recognized that with the way that the Battle of Reach had gone, there was a very real chance they were dead, but he had no evidence to say that they were.
"Anything?" Jorge asked.
"MIA, although that doesn't mean much." Ben answered. "I get that might not be the best answer-"
Jorge waved him off. "It's fine, didn't have high hopes anyway, B-net was in shambles even before I left."
Ben tried to gauge Jorge's expression, but it was a fruitless endeavor. "So... the other thing?"
"My armor, as far as I know, you're the only other qualified Mjolnir technician aboard." Jorge explained. "If you could give it a closer look, maybe give me some idea what can and can't be salvaged, I would greatly appreciate it."
"I'll see what I can do." Ben replied.
"Good, hopefully, I won't be cooped up here for much longer, and I can have a look at it myself." Jorge said, looking at the IV in his arm with undisguised contempt.
"I can empathize with that." Ben said, he'd spent his fair share of time in the Sickbay as well. "And we'd do a hell of a lot better with another Spartan on the ground."
"Yeah… if I'm gonna go straight into combat I might need to make some adjustments to my own weapon, especially with these new guys." Jorge said.
"The Mercs?" Ben asked.
"Oh no, my weapon can handle a few Innies, I meant the Grimm." Jorge clarified. "I'm thinking maybe a better feed system, I found mine jamming a lot from the sand."
"Small arms modifications aren't exactly my forte." Ben admitted. "I specialized in CQB and Heavy Armor."
Jorge huffed in approval. "Good set of skills to have. I'll stop keeping you, better deliver that note to your commander."
"Yes, Sir." Ben said as he stood back up. "Although, I did promise the doctor I would stop by and speak with some of the wounded before I left."
Jorge nodded. "Stop by later if you get a chance, it's a bit boring around here."
Ben gave a nod of acknowledgement. "I'll make some time."
"You know where to find me." Jorge said, grabbing his datapad as Ben headed towards his next task.
Atlas Academy, Headmaster's Officer
October 7th, 0630 Atlas Time, 2552 UNSC Military Calendar
Specialist Winter was still groggy, having woken up less than half an hour prior. She hadn't even had her morning coffee before she's been called up to Ironwood's office, which gave her a slight foreboding feeling. After taking the now-instinctive route to his office, she found him sitting at his desk. The General clearly hadn't slept, with obvious bags under his eyes, although his demeanor was unaffected.
"General." Winter said, snapping to a salute.
"At ease, Specialist." Ironwood said, his voice not betraying his exhaustion. "Have a seat."
His tone had Winter slightly worried, although she took a seat nonetheless. He spoke with the same serious tone that he used when talking to the press, without a hint of the friendliness that she had grown accustomed to. While he always remained formal, it wasn't hard to see that he was a very friendly man, something that Winter could respect.
"I'm afraid I don't have good news." He said, taking a deep breath.
"No offense Sir, but you rarely do." Winter pointed out.
"I suppose that's true as well." Ironwood said, without so much as a chuckle. "This concerns your family, more specifically, your father."
"Oh?" Winter asked, her tone unintentionally becoming more hostile. "What about him?"
"I'm sure you're aware of the incident between his private security and their soldiers." Ironwood said. "I also informed you that we've been attempting to mediate the conflict."
Winter nodded in acknowledgment. "I remember, although I don't see the connection."
"The UNSC launched a Cyberwarfare attack on the Schnee Dust Company, and according to their Commander, stole a copy of every single file on record." Ironwood said, gripping his forehead in frustration.
"That's an act of war!" Winter interjected.
"Let me finish!" Ironwood shouted, raising his voice. "I was contacted shortly afterwards, and confronted regarding this."
The General picked up a folder off of his desk, and handed it to Winter, who tentatively opened it. The first paper was a report titled "Schnee Dust Company slaving operations".
"Is... this some kind of joke?" Winter asked, skimming the papers, before she finally reached some of the images. "Oh my gods..."
"I'm sorry." Ironwood solemnly said. A cold chill ran down Winter's spine as she continued, flipping through the papers faster and faster as the content became worse and worse.
"What, what is this?!" Winter demanded. "Is my father...?"
"Responsible for all of it." Ironwood answered.
Winter's mind raced with furious thoughts, emotions coming and going by the moment. Anger, disappointment, and sadness took center stage, along with a significant amount of confusion.
"My father may be a bastard, but I didn't think that he was capable of managing something like this." Winter quietly said.
"In many ways, he doesn't." Ironwood said. "Page 22, it's dedicated to what we believe his motivations may be."
Winter did as he suggested, biting back a remark on how the only thing her father was interested in was profit. The page was surprisingly in-depth, whoever had written it must have exhausted every available source.
"I'll give you the short version, he's apathetic." Ironwood summarized. "From what we know, none of this was ever ordered, or even suggested by him."
"Well, it's profitable, why the hell would he care?" Winter said, reading some of her father's personal notes on the topic. "Why aren't they buried in Grimm?"
"They are, just in a different sense." Ironwood answered, handing her another paper, this one containing some kind of blueprint for a cage. "They capture Apathy from the wild, and keep them in the mines, it nullifies the negativity."
Winter would never admit it, but there was a cleverness to the tactic, despite the immense danger posed to everyone involved. A cruel sort of efficiency no doubt thought up by some supervisor out in the wilds, it sickened her to know they no doubt got a raise or promotion "What about my mother, and Whitley?"
"They're completely unaware, along with the majority of the dust refining companies in Atlas." Ironwood answered.
"I'm getting them out of there." Winter stated, quietly kicking herself for leaving her mother with the rotten bastard for so long already.
"Not yet." Ironwood interjected. "We will make our move, but right now, the courts wouldn't let us act."
"This is fairly damning." Winter said, gesturing towards the folder in her hands.
"And it was delivered to us by foreign agents, and acquired by an electronic strike." Ironwood pointed out. "...The UNSC has decided to take matters into their own hands, and have begun military operations against the mines."
Winter was immediately conflicted on the matter. On one hand, the people they were attacking were citizens of Atlas, on the other, they were criminals and slavers. "What are we going to do about that?"
"Nothing, so long as they don't target civilians." Ironwood stated. "We're at a crossroads, both the SDC and UNSC are potential enemies, and a war with either would dramatically hurt Atlas."
"Are you sure that we can't take on-" Winter began, but Ironwood waved his hand to stop her.
"I am absolutely certain. Their ship is out of our reach, and its weapons are... worrying." Ironwood said. "Commander Richard said they could blow Atlas out of the sky with a single shot, and I don't intend to find out if he was speaking metaphorically."
Winter closed the folder, she'd read enough. "What do you need me to do?"
"Right now, I need you to keep this quiet." Ironwood said. "I know that you have a sister at Beacon and a brother at home, and you will get the chance to tell them about this, but for the love of the gods, not right now."
"I understand." Winter replied, if the news about this broke in the wrong way, it could lead to catastrophe. "Is that all?"
"For now, but I will warn you, I'm going to need an envoy from the Atlesian Military to oversee the conflict." Ironwood said. "I'm going to contact the UNSC, and see if they will allow you to stay on their vessel."
"What!?" Winter asked after a moment of conflict. "You not only want me to literally travel to space, but you also want me to oversee a war against Atlas, a war against my father?" She found it difficult to believe. This was a war against her family, however twisted that word might have become. The UNSC was targeting a company with her name on it. "They would never allow me on their ship."
"That is exactly what I am ordering you to do." Ironwood dispassionately stated. "If they want our continued support for their war, then they will. Commander Richards wishes to avoid civilian casualties and your mission will be to prevent them from attacking civilian targets."
Winter paused, that was a far different assignment than she had originally anticipated. "Why me?"
"Because I can trust you, and because you have relevant knowledge and experience on the situation." Ironwood answered. "I recognize that you may be conflicted on the matter, but this situation demands that we perform our duty, regardless of personal feelings."
"I still don't understand, you have other operatives who would be far better for this assignment." Winter protested, careful not to overstep any major boundaries with her words.
Ironwood sighed, she could tell that he wanted to outright dismiss her concerns, but instead, he addressed them. "If you mean the Ace Operatives, I require them for other pressing matters. Council officials would be similarly inconvenient, due to their lack of military knowledge. You have all of the necessary skills, and I have decided that you are the best Operative for this assignment."
Winter paused, and considered his words. It was true that most of the Atlesian Government was militarily incompetent, and even the Ace Operatives lacked any substantial diplomatic experience. She quietly cursed the fact that her father had ensured she had received ample training in that regard.
"Have I made myself clear?" Ironwood asked, his voice carrying an abundance of authority.
Although she was still conflicted about the matter she knew better than to question the General's judgment. Orders were orders, no matter how much she may have disagreed with them. Winter's answer was immediate. "Crystal."
Authors note: according to a Remnant timezone chart I found, Menagerie is around five hours ahead of Atlas, a similar time gap as the UK and eastern USA, just something I found interesting.
On a completely different note, I was considering restarting my Star Wars crossover, is that something any of you would be interested in reading? If so, let me know.