The UNSC Dominion, Sick Bay

October 9th, 1802 Menagerie Time

Fairfire sat in the waiting room anxiously, noting it's strange emptiness. Her leg wound was not bad enough to justify giving her a hospital bed, as there were too few to go around, considering how many people needed them. As soon as they finished unloading the liberated Slaves however, the Doctor had said she would get one, not that she cared. She was so utterly emotionally drained and filled with guilt that she hadn't even realized they'd landed at Menagerie in the first place

At long last, Jorge walked into the room and called her name. Immediately she sprang out of her chair, her leg protesting with the effort. "Is she alright?! Will she-"

"Sit." He coldly instructed, after a painful bit of effort bending her knee, she complied. "Corporal Sato is still in surgery. The Doctors are trying to stitch together enough of her lung to keep her alive while they clone her a new one, nobody is sure if she'll live. Personally, I think she'll make it, but I'm not a doctor."

Even though she expected it, Fairfire flinched with the news. She knew what was coming next, and to be honest, she knew she deserved it. The only reason that Yu had gotten shot was because she'd tried to stop Fairfire from executing a prisoner. Her armor's resilience had saved her from most of the shock of the impact, but the bullet had splintered into fragments, and torn multiple holes in her left lung. Biofoam was the only thing that had stopped her from drowning in her own blood.

"But that's not relevant right now, you have other concerns." Jorge coldly stated. "I've had a look at your file, throughout the whole thing, there was nothing similar to what you tried to do today."

Fairfire nodded, letting him continue.

"You made your motives pretty clear, at least, according to what your helmet camera recorded." Jorge added. "But that doesn't tell me why you tried to take justice into your own hands."

Fairfire took a deep breath, honesty would probably go a long way here. "I-I… I thought he was… he came from the mines! I thought he was involved with what we… with what happened to the…" She couldn't bring herself to say it, the memory alone making her sick.

"So you were just going to kill a man, a prisoner, in cold blood?" Jorge finished.

"He never would have gotten a fair trial in Atlas!" Fairfire yelled in protest, only dampening her voice because of the other patients in the next room over. "They've turned a blind eye to this for years, you know that!"

Jorge stared at her totally expressionless, even without his helmet, it was looking at a visor. "Is that all?"

Fairfire looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Is that all there is to it? That you simply lacked faith in the Atlesian Justice System?" Jorge asked, now looking quite frustrated. "Or did you lack faith in your squad, in me, and in the Commander and the rest of the crew? Did you just assume that we would bend the knee and let justice go unserved? We are fighting this war for a reason you know."

Fairfire stared at him, unsure of what to say, he was right.

"If you have a concern, I advise you to privately discuss it with me in the future." Jorge stated. "But right now, we need to deal with the fact that you have committed a War Crime. You have single-handedly painted a target on our backs, all that fear and hate the people of Atlas had aimed at us, is now justified!"

Fairfire did not break eye contact, she knew what she had done, and she would face the consequences.

"Since we lack the resources to assemble a tribunal, your disciplinary action was decided by the Commander, the Executive Officer, and Lieutenant Clark." Jorge stated dispassionately.

Fairfire tensed up slightly, she hadn't exactly made a good impression on any of those people, hopefully, that didn't influence their decision.

"You have been demoted to Corporal, you are to replace your patches as soon as you are discharged from Sickbay." Jorge said, without sympathy. "The next six months of your base pay will be docked and will go to cover psychiatric costs for Private Weber. You will also be required to report to Sickbay once per week for your own psychiatric-evaluation, for at least the next three months."

Fairfire was somewhat surprised by how lenient they'd been, although it wasn't hard to guess why they'd gone so soft on her.

"Were it not for our complicated situation and shortage of manpower, you would have been discharged, at the very least." Jorge added, confirming her suspicions. "Do you understand?"

Fairfire choked up her words in response, but succeeded the second time. "Yes Sir. Who will be your new Second in Command?"

"Sergeant Meadows, once he leaves Sick Bay." Jorge answered.

Fairfire nodded, Meadows would make a good replacement for her role. "Was that all, Sir?"

"Almost." Jorge answered, his expression completely unreadable. "You are to continue to wait here until you are admitted into Sickbay. Once you have recovered enough for light duties, Specialist Schnee will be here to speak with you. Orders from on high are to follow her instructions to the letter. You'll be her problem for the foreseeable future."

Fairfire was very confused by his statement. "I'm not sure I understand, Sir."

"You'll have to ask her yourself, I know as much as you do." Jorge said. "If that was all Corporal, I'll be on my way."

With his message delivered, the Spartan left. Fairfire sat in silence, wondering if she even had the right to feel remorse for what she'd done. Despite her utter misery, she didn't shed a single tear, and she didn't know why.

Menagerie Trans-Continental Airport, Terminal

October 9th, 1830 Menagerie Time

The soft dribble of rain highlighted the oddities of Remnant's weather. The rain did little to obstruct the efforts of the Marines and Corpsmen who carried wounded and sick Slaves out of the underslung hangar of the Dominion, before moving them to the small airport's Terminal.

The terminal building of the airport had been converted into a temporary triage center, holding those patients who were to make the journey to the hospitals. It matched much of the surrounding architecture, which meant it featured multiple large rooms, each with a multitude of entryways, ideal for an emergency field hospital.

I wonder if that's intentional. Richard grimly thought, the mixed results of the mission weighing heavily on his mindset. Through the large ornamental windows of the building, Richard could see the Dominion parked on the runway, taking up nearly half of the airstrip with its frame. The ground it rested on wasn't stable enough to hold the ship's colossal mass, so the ship's antigrav systems remained functional at low power, helping to offset the immense pressure on the ground.

"You were not joking. You've certainly made a big impression." Ghira commented as he entered the building. Richard noted he had left his Guards behind, which was a welcome display of trust. "I can certainly understand why the media is so interested in getting footage while they can. I knew your ship was large, but seeing it in person is completely different."

"I've felt the same way about a lot of things, some good, some bad." Richard replied. "But we should stay focused, we have some important matters to discuss."

Ghira nodded. "We certainly do, but before we do that, I need to ask, what are your plans for the immediate future?"

His concern was justified, it was always important to stay up to speed on your ally's next move. "We'll unload all of your people, and make sure everybody is stable. But once that's done, we're going back up to Solitas, we still need to end this war."

Ghira seemed somewhat surprised by his response, even somewhat displeased. "Are you sure? Everything I've heard seems to suggest that the SDC is still recoiling from your operation, you may have already won."

Richard felt bad putting down the man's optimism, but it was necessary. He needed everyone on his side to be up to date on the situation, and dispel any false information.

"We gave them a crippling blow, but not a knockout punch. We may have won a critical victory, but the price we paid isn't going to be easy to recover from either, we'll need to proceed with extra caution from now on." Richard stated.

"Do your people need anything?" Ghira immediately offered. "I recognize that we may not have the resources of somewhere like Atlas, but that doesn't mean we can't help."

Richard recognized it would be downright insulting to say no, even if most of the things that they needed weren't able to be offered by anyone on Remnant. Plus, he wasn't really in a position to be denying any sort of assistance.

Especially manpower. Richard sadly thought, well aware that those few deaths that they had suffered wouldn't be replaceable for the foreseeable future. He had already considered recruiting the locals in the future, and they had taken in the technicians from the Relay Station, but they were essentially just civilian contractors, not personnel. There were many other problems regarding recruitment that they would need to overcome.

Remnant's low population and a poor education system lowered the amount of people eligible for service dramatically. That was before you even factored in recent events that were bound to make it to the mainstream news sooner or later. The people wouldn't trust them if they thought they were out to murder defenceless people. Even if people overlooked that, or they somehow managed to mend relations with the public, those potential recruits would then be forced to ask a very tough question. Who could they really trust?

Even if people wanted to join the risk was high, any potential recruits could have a million different loyalties that they didn't know about. They would be forced to vet every potential recruit beyond anything they usually did back home. The people from Menagerie were their best bet but it was still a long time out. He'd have to get Curie to start looking for potential recruits soon.

"Well, this might sound a bit odd, but it turns out most of our coffee expired years ago, that and the tea." Richard said. "Honestly, just anything that our cooks need, they're in a little over their heads right now. Although I'm sure they'll be happy to bring you up to date on modern food preservation and preparation in exchange."

"That shouldn't be too much of a problem." Ghira said after a moment's thought. "We've still got a portion of our yearly budget that we've been saving for a rainy day, but this seems as good a use as any. And finding locally-grown food shouldn't be an issue."

"Thank you." Richard said, hoping he came across as genuinely as he intended. "I know that the results of our operation were probably below your expectations-"

"Not at all." Ghira interrupted. "We would never have even known about this whole situation in the first place without you, and we certainly couldn't have mustered such an effective response."

Richard was deeply grateful for the man's comments, it was good to know that at least some people on Remnant understood why they had acted. "Thank you. Although with the benefit of hindsight, I'm starting to wonder if we've handled this correctly. Perhaps if we had enforced better cooperation with Atlas, we could've handled this similarly to how we did back home."

Ghira seemed surprised. "You had slavery where you come from?"

"Rarely, it seems that some people never seemed to get the memo, about our common humanity and all that." Richard answered, somewhat bitterly. "A little over a decade ago, I was a part of a task force putting down an Insurrection in the Epsilon Eridani system. Most of the UNSC was out on the frontlines, trying to fight off the Covenant, and their absence gave rise to some... extremism, on the home front."

"Humanity didn't unite against the Covenant?" Ghira seemed surprised.

"We did, most of us anyway. Once the Covenant showed up, almost all of the Insurrectionists threw in alongside us, but some others were less cooperative. You see, the Insurrectionists weren't just one big organization like the UNSC, but a loose alliance of a lot of smaller groups." Richard explained, recognizing a bit of background information was necessary for Ghira to understand what he was talking about.

Ghira seemed somewhat disturbed, but Richard brushed it off, assuming that internal squabbles were just something Remnant didn't do much anymore. With the Grimm as a common enemy, it would be easier to look past the differences of one another. Although, he became more curious as the expression didn't falter.

Despite his curiosity, Richard continued. "I remember one of the Carriers, the UNSC Constable, was actually crewed by a lot of former Innies. When some of their Marines came across some of the Insurrectionists on the ground, it was an absolute massacre for everyone involved."

Richard thought back, remembering just how utterly demolished the landscape of the battle had been. Cluster Artillery and Flamethrowers had created a landscape that rivaled the Covenant in terms of sheer devastation. "It was like one of the old Earth Civil Wars, where brother fought against brother... it was brutal. We only found out the Innies had slaves after the fight was over... but none of them lived that long."

Ghira still seemed somewhat disturbed, but he nodded anyway, taking in Richard's words. "I don't envy you having to go through with something like this twice. It's certainly a testament to you and your crew that you're willing to do this, even despite what you've seen."

"We've got a lot more to do here, hopefully with less violence involved." Richard thought, before a stray thought hit him like a comet, and he remembered something incredibly crucial. "Actually, now that I think about it, there is something else that you could do to help us. Although I'll admit, this is likely to be controversial, at least among the other Kingdoms."

"By all means, state it." Ghira prompted.

Richard took a deep, nervous breath. "My Marines need Auras, badly. Our armor managed to stop most of the wounds from being fatal, but we can't keep-"

"Say no more, it's done." Ghira mercifully interrupted. "I am not going to let any sort of political pressure from Atlas or otherwise get in the way of helping our allies."

Thank god. Richard thought, letting out the breath he had been holding. "Thank you. Our technology might offer us an edge, but even the best armor has its faults..."

"Well from now on, you won't need to worry about that." Ghira promised. "There's a few Huntsmen and Huntresses that reside in Menagerie, I'm sure they'll be willing to help your soldiers with their Auras once I ask. You've also made a great impression among the Guards, so they'll certainly be happy to help as well."

Richard gave a smile. "That's good, that's very good to hear. How long will they need to train to use them?"

Ghira thought for a moment. "If you want them to be able to subconsciously project a defensive shield, that could take months, but simply how to use it to mitigate some of their wounds only a couple weeks. But if you took someone along with you to train them aboard your ship..."

Richard nodded with understanding. "Good thinking, it's about high time I accepted an envoy from you regardless. Did you have someone in mind?"

"Margaret." Ghira immediately said. "You've worked with her before, when you needed someone to help with your crash site. She also has a great deal of knowledge on all things naval, although I'm not sure how well that skillset will translate from a regular ship to a starship."

"A good fit for the job then." Richard said, extending his hand. "Well, thank you Chieftain, your assistance will not be forgotten."

The man shook his hand. "Nor will yours."

Beacon Academy, Headmaster Ozpin's Office

1150 Vale Time, 2552

This is not how I expected this morning to go. Ozpin privately thought, as he listened to General Ironwood relay everything that he knew about the recent battle that had taken place in his Kingdom. He'd been able to offer far more insight into the events than Vale's media organizations had, and what he had to say gave Ozpin some reason to be concerned.

"-Their ship has a weapon like nothing I've ever seen." Ironwood explained, even though his demeanor was outwardly calm, Ozpin could sense the beginnings of panic within him. "They destroyed three Cruisers with a single shot. It fired clusters of darts made out of some sort of dense metal that we're still trying to identify. They traveled so fast, they tore through the shields with barely any effort, and then the rest of the ships!"

Ozpin deliberately picked the most relevant piece of information, although the details on the Alien weapon were also welcome. "Why were they fighting your Cruisers, General?"

"They... were commandeered, by the Schnee Dust Company." Ironwood awkwardly replied.

Ozpin put his mug of hot cocoa down and pinched the bridge of his forehead with immense frustration. "James, those are warships, not some insignificant piece of equipment. How did they manage to steal even a single one, let alone three of them?"

Ironwood took a deep breath. "Ozpin, you know as well as I do that Atlas has a lot of... misguided people."

"Traitors." Ozpin calmly interjected. "Misguided or not, their actions take precedence over their beliefs."

Ironwood gave a nod of affirmation before continuing. "The Military isn't exempt from that, and their sympathies must've been stronger than their loyalties."

"On the contrary General, these actions prove their loyalty, it just wasn't towards Atlas." Ozpin pointed out, stifling his frustration as best as he could. "I assume you've arrested those responsible?"

"Most of them went down with their ships, actually, and no, there weren't any survivors." Ironwood answered. "Those who didn't have so far evaded our efforts to arrest them. But we're not going to give up, we'll find them."

Ozpin noticed the doubt in his voice. "You don't sound very certain..."

"I have my own reservations, but loyalty to Atlas is not optional, I will see this done." Ironwood said, and Ozpin could see that he was speaking genuinely. Still, if Ironwood had doubts, Ozpin wanted to know about them.

"I appreciate that, and I know Atlas will as well. But you certainly have no sympathy for Jacques Schnee and his motives, why are you uncertain about this course of action?" Ozpin asked, wondering what aspects of the situation he wasn't seeing.

"It would leave Altas vulnerable, an investigation like this is going to cost resources, more than we can spare at the moment." Ironwood bluntly stated.

His mind is in the right place, good. Ozpin thought, deeply relieved.

"The amount of people, money, and time that this is going to take... we simply can't spare it at the moment. Maybe if the SDC relented, but I don't see that happening anytime soon." Ironwood concluded. "I know that the rest of the world is seeing the Grimm spike start to flatten, but Atlas hasn't seen that yet."

"And you believe that the Queen would strike while you were vulnerable." Ozpin finished. Salem would almost certainly strike at the opportunity, although probably not as directly as Ironwood thought she might.

She's more insidious than that, far more interested in picking us apart from the inside. More importantly, she's smart enough to have reservations about committing large amounts of her forces to a single engagement. Ozpin thought.

Ironwood nodded. "The Grimm have already been... erratic, acting far wilder. I would almost say it's like she hasn't been controlling them directly, but I'm not sure if I believe that. I've already had to divert more forces than I would like from Argus..."

Ozpin reached for his mug again. "She's not that direct. She's never risked an outward strike against a major city like that before, and she wouldn't, not without a very good reason."

"That's no reason not to be prepared." Ironwood protested. "And let's not forget about the UNSC, with them running wild, my options are limited."

"They aren't the enemy, James." Ozpin gently said. Although he still had his own doubts about the alien military, he was starting to put a bit more faith in them. While their initial interaction with the people of Remnant had been violent, he was under the impression that their actions were justified, further solidified when Ironwood announced that they were to be allowed to conduct their campaign against the SDC, although it was common knowledge by now that the 'cooperation' that took place between the Atlesian Military and UNSC was borderline nonexistent.

I know that particular move has cost him a lot of political favors. Ozpin thought, noting that perhaps it shouldn't have come as such a surprise that Ironwood was losing men and ships.

"Their use of that weapon was a show of force!" Ironwood protested. "More people than just the military are worried, the Media has been stirring up a storm! They should have know what kind of panic that kind of weapon would have-"

"General, hindsight is useful, but not essential." Ozpin interrupted. "Think for a moment, clear your mind, and look past your own personal fears."

Ironwood did as he asked, but was clearly still tense. "I'm not afraid of them, I'm afraid of what they're capable of. If they cause a big enough panic, we could be knocked on our back foot."

"What motive could they have? Ozpin asked. "They didn't release all of the files from the SDC, knowing very well that those emotions would cause casualties. We can both see what that's already cost them in terms of their reputation, it's why this conflict is controversial in the first place."

Ironwood sighed in reluctant agreement. "We should still exercise some caution, even if we do intend to let the UNSC make a mess of the countryside."

"Perhaps they just need some guidance." Ozpin argued. "To them, our world is no-doubt just as Alien as we see them. Perhaps if you coordinated your efforts better, you might be able to put these squabbles aside."

Ironwood seemed doubtful. "I wish I could share your enthusiasm. You've spoken to their leader, right?"

"Commander Richard." Ozpin confirmed with a nod.

"Then you probably picked up on the same things I did." Ironwood said. "He's... unusual, I've never met another Officer quite like him."

"He is an Alien." Ozpin pointed out.

"Besides that, you know what I mean!" Ironwood protested. "He's blunt, surprisingly inelegant, and very focused, and it's not just him. It seems like almost everything under his command follows that same doctrine of simplicity and overwhelming force."

Ozpin thought for a moment, Ironwood's observations did line up with what he had seen so far. The UNSC were far from crude or barbaric, despite how they may have seemed at a glance. In actuality, they were ruthlessly simple, focused almost single-mindedly on their task at hand, while quickly adapting to developing situations. You can learn a lot from a person's mindset, and it seems that applies to the UNSC as well.

"What do you need from me, General?" Ozpin asked, deciding to try to see where Ironwood was going with this. "I appreciate your update on the situation, but I imagine that's not why you called me."

"I wanted to know what you think I should do. You have more experience in diplomacy than anyone else on Remnant." Ironwood answered. "I can't promise I'll take your advice, but I want your input, just to help me try to understand them."

Ozpin nodded as he thought of how to word it. "I was reminded of the people of Vacuo when I first heard about them. Chieftain Belladonna contacted me almost immediately after the Relay Station on Menagerie was brought back online, and he warned me that the UNSC was already fighting a war back home.

"The Covenant, I've heard about them." Ironwood noted. "But why the Comparison to Vacuo?"

"Because they share the same thing, stubborn resilience." Ozpin answered. "If their Commander is to be believed, tens of billions of humans have died so far in this conflict. Worlds have been scorched to the point of being uninhabitable, and the alien menace shows no signs of relenting. That kind of environment raises a very different kind of person, General, and we should account for that."

"I understand." Ironwood said, much to Ozpin's relief. "On the note of the Covenant, Winter says they have an Alien aboard their ship. It's not a Human or a Faunus, it's something else."

"Is she still collecting intelligence?" Ozpin asked. "Where did she learn that?"

Ironwood took a deep breathe, before examining something on his computer. "Sorry, just double checking our security, this is something that we cannot risk going public yet."

Ozpin nodded, he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"Winter is currently stationed aboard their ship, the Dominion, where she is acting as a line of communication and a military advisor." Ironwood explained. "I managed to convince them to let her aboard, albeit, I may have had to stretch the truth a little in the process."

"In what manner?" Ozpin asked, more curious than anything. Ironwood's diplomatic accomplishment nullified any unease he might have felt.

"I told them that the Council insisted, when in reality, nobody else knows but you and me." Ironwood answered. "The most important part is that she is aboard their ship. Some of the intelligence she has secured and negotiated for so far is invaluable."

"Such as?" Ozpin prompted, incredibly curious.

Ironwood sent a file of information, along with a single picture. "For starters, that picture is of the Alien, they call it an 'Elite'."

Ozpin was rather taken aback by the creature he saw, it was far larger and more intimidating than he had expected. It was vaguely reptilian, but it was also immediately apparent to Ozpin that it was quite unlike anything on Remnant. "Oh."

"I won't lie, that was my reaction too." Ironwood sympathetically added. "The file contains a set of UNSC encryption algorithms well in excess of anything we can produce on Remnant. I would strongly encourage you to begin upgrading Beacon's systems, although I recognize that it might take you some time... my engineers did their best, but the original file took up four storage drives."

Ozpin nodded, noting that it would take at least a day for the file to finish downloading. "This is quite the surprise."

"I meant to tell you earlier-" Ironwood began.

"No, that's not what I meant." Ozpin interrupted, not interested in the General's excuses. "I meant it seems a bit unusual for you to put so much trust into this bit of software, considering your outlook on the UNSC. What makes you feel differently about this, why trust them with Winter's safety?"

"Because it came from Winter, and she wouldn't send me anything that posed a risk to Atlas's safety. As for Winter, I have no doubt she could fight her way off of the ship if she needed too." Ironwood answered. "I've also had my best man in this field have a look at it, and he says it's far from malicious."

Ozpin nodded, Ironwood had clearly had the same doubts that he had. "So even in the face of this massive boost to your national security, you still think they're trying to undermine you?"

"I..." Ironwood trailed off. "That's not what I mean!"

"If we don't even try to work with them, we can't expect any kind of positive outcome." Ozpin pressed. "Putting trust in them is a risk, I recognize that, but it's surely better than the alternatives."

"...And if they do end up working against us, what do we do then?" Ironwood asked.

Ozpin recognized that Ironwood was right, a backup plan was a wise thing to have. "Then we do what we have done in the past, General. We eliminate the threat to mankind's survival, by any means necessary. But hopefully it won't come to that."

Ironwood's expression seemed even stonier than normal. "Hopefully."

UNSC Dominion, Junction B, Deck Four

October 9th, 1930 Menagerie Time, 2552

Ben couldn't stop thinking about the mission, about what he had seen. Jorge's advice had helped somewhat, but he still found himself constantly reminded, even by the smallest of things. To combat this, he did what he had learned to do in the past, distract himself with whatever tasks he could find.

"Ben, what are we doing here?" Curie asked, noticing that Ben had turned to enter the Brig.

"I'm going to ask Set a question." Ben answered as he opened the door, the Marine on watch waving him through without even checking his clearance.

"Well we should be quick. We may have some time to kill before Mags gets here, but-" Curie warned.

Ben got a look at the SDC Specialist he had taken down during the battle at Point Wilhelm, who was playing cards with some of the other prisoners. "Don't worry Curie, I'm not going to be long."

When Ben finally got a good look at Set, it was apparent that he had been rather busy. His cell featured a good deal of his drawings now taped to the wall, as well as a not-inconsiderable amount of rolled-up paper balls haphazardly chucked into the trash bin in the corner. He was continuing his work on a larger illustration, and he had found a more inventive way to hold his pencil with his alien hands, allowing for improved stability.

Set didn't look up from his work as Ben entered, only stopping once he had finished the specific segment he was focusing on. From what Ben could see, it was an illustration of a very elaborate symbol. "What is that?"

Set seemed surprised to hear his voice. "I did not expect you to return, have you come to ask more pointless questions?"

"There's no such thing as a pointless question." Ben indirectly answered. "Questions are fundamental to communication in any field, be it military, artistic, or civilian. There is a justification even for the dumbest of questions."

Set sighed. "Very well, let me give it a try. What do you want, Demon?"

"I want to know what you're drawing." Ben stated, it seemed like the Elite was almost finished with the symbol, and was now focusing on the smaller details. It was intricate, and made up of many different lines forming a complex formation.

The Elite huffed with disappointment, and a hint of surprise. "Either you are ignorant or simply imperceptive. Regardless, on this one matter, I see no harm in educating you."

That's an extremely sharp shift in tone from everything we know about Elites, even Set. Ben thought, but remained silent.

Set held up the paper, allowing Ben to take a better look. "This is an ancient, holy symbol, called the Eld. The Gods used it to signify matters of politics and warfare, as evidenced by the installations we've found in the past, as part of a philosophy that they called the 'Mantlepiece of Authority', or at least, that's our best translation. I would have anticipated you to know that much, at the very least."

Ben chuckled. "Well, there's a lot of things we don't know. Still, you've got me curious, why tell me this?"

Set placed his creation back on the floor. "The Gods have no interest in you, the Hierarchs have made that abundantly clear. I tell you this information because in your hands, it is meaningless."

That excuse is a bit... flimsy. Ben noted, wondering exactly what the Elite was playing at, although he wouldn't push his luck. "I see. Now, I actually came down here with another question in mind."

"Speak, and I shall consider gracing you with an answer." Set gave a disinterested wave of his hand.

"Why are your people Warriors?" Ben asked.

Set made a noise that Ben wasn't entirely sure how to interpret, sounding like some form of grumbling. "Why are Sangheili... Warriors?"

"Everything that we know about you states that you've been Warriors for longer than you've been in the Covenant." Ben stated. "I'm not asking for a history lesson, I want to know what gave your people that inspiration to conduct warfare with such dedication in the first place."

Set stared blankly at him for a few moments, before blinking. "I suppose in that context, your question makes a considerable degree more sense. Although in return for your answer, I would ask for you to answer another question for me. Like yours, it is of insight and curiosity, not any military value."

Ben thought for a moment, deciding that Set's cooperation was worth a single insignificant question, depending on what it was. "What's your question?"

"Throughout every conversation I have had with you, you have not once rejected the Title of Demon." Set pointed out. "Why not?"

Ben thought for a moment, it was an admittedly good question, one that he had not previously given any considerable thought. Coming up with an answer was surprisingly difficult, as he was forced to discard many incorrect guesses.

"Stubbornness, both from you, and from me." Ben eventually replied.

"Explain." Set said.

"If I told you to stop calling me Demon, you wouldn't, you're stubborn." Ben pointed out, to which Set chuckled. "As for me, well..."

He thought about how to word it, but eventually decided some extra context would help. "...It's like you said yourself, it might be an insult, but it has its roots in an odd sort of respect. This might come as a surprise to you, but Humanity believed in Demons a long time before we believed in a lot of other things."

Set huffed. "You were not alone in that, superstition stretches all the way from the Unggoy to the Prophets."

I wonder if he slagged off the Prophets this much when he wasn't our prisoner. Ben thought, but decided not to voice that observation.

Ben continued. "Demons became associated with difficulty, strife, pain, and misery, as you would expect. So when you call a Spartan a Demon, you're just telling them that they're doing their job well."

Set hummed in deep thought. "That is an interesting answer. I believe that it was actually the Prophets themselves who first coined the term "Demon" to refer to your ilk, either them or an imaginative Unggoy. I do know that it was in part associated with the childish belief that a dead Demon is simply recovered, their body resurrected, and the Demon redeployed, which is almost certainly the Unggoy's contribution."

Ben wished he could laugh at that, but too many Spartans had died for it to even be remotely funny. Still, he had upheld his end of the bargain, now it was Set's turn. "And what about the Sangheili? What about warfare intrigued you so deeply that it influences you so deeply."

"Well for one thing, war was common. Sanghelios is not a kind planet by any measure, and resource scarcities led to conflict." Set stated. "War was always present during the early formations of our culture, of our society, is it really any surprise that we decided to improve our talents, to perfect warfare?"

"I suppose not." Ben answered. "although I'm not sure if you can perfect warfare."

"Nonsense." Set grumbled. "Warfare is a form of art, much like drawing is, or sculpting. But it is more than a humble craft, it is the source of a Warrior's Honor, of any Sangheili's self-pride. It is a source of wisdom and knowledge so great, the gods themselves studied it."

Ben nodded, it made sense that their religion would play a factor in the matter. It was also interesting to hear it referred to as a form of art, much like Humanity sometimes did.

"I strongly suspect that even if Humanity does survive this war, you will feel the same way, or at least better understand us." Set concluded. "There, I hope that satisfies your curiousity, do you have any more stupid questions?"

Set's offhanded mention of the war had triggered his unpleasant memories again. Rather than snuff them out, Ben decided to try to get one more answer out of Set using them.

"Just one." Ben replied. "What about atrocity, about when civilians get involved in war?"

"The Prophets do not care for your occupation, they merely want you dead." Set stated.

"Then don't think of it as an atrocity between Humans and Sangheili, think of it as a conflict between Sangheili, what about then?"

"Warfare isn't perfect, Demon, you should know that." Set growled. "There is no honour to be found in killing those who never had the chance to fight back." He paused for a moment. "Except for when the Prophets will it."

"The Prophets? Not your gods?" Ben noted his key choice of word

Set did not respond.

"Ben, it's time to go, we're needed in the hangar." Curie interjected.

"I was just wrapping up." Ben privately replied. "Thank you, Set."

The Elite didn't respond as he left, returning to his work. Ben wasn't quite sure what had inspired his insightful answers, but it was welcome nonetheless.

UNSC Dominion, Main Hangar

October 9th, 2002 Menagerie Time, 2552

By the time Ben reached the Hangar, most of the mess from the operation and triage had been cleaned up. Most of the Marines were gone, although some of the Tankers were still fixing their vehicles. The Scorpion that was damaged at Point Wilhelm was having it's turret repaired, and one of the Grizzlies was having a barrel replaced. Ben was shocked by the scorch marks that dotted the barrel, and in many places, it appeared to have suffered microfractures.

Concentrated laser fire. Ben recognized, not deviating from his course.

It seemed that the aircraft had a much easier time with the mission than the ground vehicles, as Ben couldn't pick out any with any damage amongst them. Some of the Warthogs had new scars of battle, and one of the Lynxes was having a track replaced.

Spare parts are in limited supply as well, we should choose our battles carefully. Ben thought, well aware that replacements were out of the question.

He spotted Jorge standing near the large aft entrance to the hangar, talking to Mags without his helmet on. She looked like she had encountered problems with the rain on the way over, as her uniform was soaked, along with her hair and tail.

"Reporting as ordered, Sir." Ben stated as he approached, offering a salute to Jorge as he came to a stop.

"At ease." Jorge replied, relieving him with a wave of his hand. "I take it something got in your way on the way over?"

"No Sir, it's just a long walk from the Brig." Ben replied.

Jorge gave a grunt of acknowledgment before turning back to Mags. "You've met the Sergeant, right Mags?"

"I have, we killed a Geist outside of the Relay Station, and we also picked out anything salvageable from your crash site." Mags answered, before turning to Ben. "Good to see you alive and well Sergeant."

"Likewise ma'am." Ben replied, before realizing Jorge . "What was it that you needed me for, Sir?"

"Mags is going to activate your Aura, or at the very least, try." Jorge explained, his voice lacking optimism.

His face concealed behind his visor, Ben raised an eyebrow. He was absolutely fine with getting another tactical edge over the enemy, although Jorge's tone raised a sense of doubt in his mind.

Curie ended up raising the exact concern he had. "I am confused, what do you mean 'try'? Surely this cannot go wrong?"

"Well, I gave it a shot on the big lad here-" Mags said, gesturing towards Jorge. "-and the results were... less than stellar. His reservoirs of Aura are the lowest I've ever seen, to give you some idea, a wild animal could summon a stronger defense."

"It's not a concern." Jorge quickly added, as if sensing Ben's worry. "I've fought without an Aura for this long, I'm not about to get killed just because I don't have one now."

"Well said Sir." Ben added, well aware of what the legendary soldier was capable of, even without the assistance of an Aura.

"But if you don't have an Aura... what about your soul?" Curie nervously said, her tone rich with concern.

Mags replied to her almost immediately. "Oh don't worry missy, he does, it's just his Aura that's weak. Aura isn't your soul, it's just how it manifests into something more tangible."

"That is certainly a relief." Curie said, now sounding much more confident.

"We shouldn't dawdle." Jorge interjected. "Mags, are you ready to give this a shot?"

"Certainly, activating yours practically drained nothing out of mine." Mags answered, before gesturing to Ben. "Come on over Sergeant, I don't bite."

Ben did as she asked, stopping directly in front of her.

"Ah, I need you to take the helmet off, if you don't mind." Mags said, and with a nod of reassurance from Jorge, he complied. As soon as she got a look at his face, her face gave an expression of mild surprise. "Woah... you're uh..."

"Yeah, I know, plasma rifle shot, I got it when I was three. I got lucky, the surgeons managed to save most of the nerves." Ben said, assuming that she was looking at his slightly disfigured face.

"No, that's uh, not what I was thinking about." Mags awkwardly said. "You're uh, a lot younger than I was expecting."

"Yes." Ben pointedly replied. "Is there a problem?"

Even if she did put it together, children fighting is commonplace on this planet. Ben thought, before the realization clicked. I wonder, are all those kids who sign up for those academies... are they like me? Do they just want revenge, or do they want to be heroes?

"...No, not at all." Mags finally answered, although it looked like she was thinking about it more deeply. "Now, let's give this a shot."

She took a deep breath and reached up to place one hand on his forehead, placing her other on his chest. It looked like she was concentrating very deeply, although she remained silent.

Is something supposed to be happening? He wondered, although he didn't really have much of an idea of what to expect.

She quietly pulled her hands back, looking at him with extra ordinary confusion. "Ben, your soul is... really weird. I don't really know how to describe it, but it's almost like you've got two soul souls kinda stitched together."

"Hold on a moment." Jorge interjected immediately, a look of realization on his face. "Ben, take Curie's chip out for a moment."

"Yes Sir." Ben replied, withdrawing her chip from his neural lace, before holding it out in front of him in his palm. She displayed her hologram, which took Mags by surprise.

"Woah!" Mags yelped. "I uh... sorry, I just wasn't expecting that."

"Do not worry madame, most people from Remnant have that reaction." Curie replied forgivingly.

"Let me hold her for a moment Ben." Jorge instructed, to which he complied. "Okay Mags, give it a try now."

She placed her hands on his chest and head once more. Again, she closed her eyes, as if focusing intently on something. After a few moments, she spoke, her voice sounding oddly distant. Her body began to radiate a small amount of blue light, concentrating in her hands.

"For it is through persistence that we achieve victory. Through this, we become a symbol of valor and virtue, to rise above death. Infinite in courage and unfettered by nature, I release your soul, and by my honor, release thee." She said, before letting her hands fall to her sides and taking a few long breaths.

For a few moments, Ben's body flickered a dull silver, before once again returning to normal.

"Do you feel any different?" Curie asked, Jorge also looked curious as to his thoughts.

"...Not really." Ben answered after a moment's consideration. "Did it work?"

"It certainly did." Mags answered, still a bit short of breath. "But it's like Jorge's, very low reserves, almost like something's wrong with it."

"He can use his?" Jorge asked.

Curie turned around to face him directly. "I believe that there is nothing stopping you from using yours, Lieutenant."

"She's right, you can both use your Aura, you just can't really do much with them." Mags confirmed. "Not to mention that neither of you have any training, so until that changes, you're still just... ya know..."

"Spartans?" Ben suggested, not understanding what she was trying to say.

Mags nodded. "Yeah, that."

"What about Curie." Jorge said. "If you could feel her soul, does that mean you can activate her Aura?"

She thought for a moment. "I can certainly try, what do you say lass?"

Curie nodded. "I am certainly willing to attempt this, although I do admit, the lack of any sort of scientific precedent is... unnerving."

"Don't do anything you're not comfortable with Curie." Ben interjected. "If you aren't sure about this, you could always wait until later."

"Maybe he's right." Mags said. "I don't think anyone's ever tried giving something that has no body an Aura, you might get hurt somehow."

Curie seemed conflicted. "...May I have some time to think about it? I can try to do some research, to see whether anyone has ever tried this before."

"That's fine by me." Mags answered, before looking back up to the Spartans. "But you two... I don't really know what's going on with you."

Jorge frowned. "Well, is there anyone who would?"

Mags thought for a moment. "My old teacher, he runs one of the Huntsmen Academies now, his name's Ozpin. If anyone is going to know what's going on with you two, it's going to be him."

"We know him." Jorge confirmed, which came as a surprise to Ben. "I'll talk to the Commander about it, maybe the Headmaster would be willing to help us out."

"You'd have to convince him that you're not the bad guys first, although I find it hard to believe he's like any of those superstitious junkies up in Atlas or Mistral." Mags said. "Although once I vouch for you, he'll probably come around."

"Do you think he would be willing to help me as well?" Curie asked.

"You? I mean, I'm sure he'd be willing to try." Mags answered as she awkwardly scratched the back of her head. "Look, most of the robotics and A.I dudes live up in Atlas, and I seem to recall that you and them are having some... issues."

"We'll figure something out." Jorge stated as he handed Curie back to Ben, who reinserted her into his neural implant, before returning his helmet to his head. "Right now, we have some other concerns. Sergeant, report in with Ensign Gillespie for further instructions."

"Yes Sir." Ben acknowledged. He offered a crisp salute, and departed.

"Mags, do you mind seeing what you can do for the wounded-" Jorge continued, before the sound of his voice was drowned out by the sound of power tools as Ben walked away.

"Do you think I could have an Aura?" Curie privately asked him.

"I don't see why not, you were made from a human brain, right?" Ben asked. "Human brain, human soul... I think."

She gave a nervous chuckle. "Your confidence is reassuring."

"Don't look at me, I'm not exactly a spiritual man, what with all the metal and silicon." Ben answered in mock defense.

"Ah, that reminds me." Curie said. "Once I finish examining some blueprints I recovered, would you be willing to help me with a bit of an experiment? The Schnee Dust Company was developing a new weapon that I believe we may be able to fabricate."

"I don't see why not, as long as Commander Richard signs off on it." Ben said.

I'm sure if it helps with some of the problems we're having he'll be willing to give it a shot. Ben thought, well aware of how the scarcity of resources would likely influence their next moves on Remnant.