UNSC Dominion, Bridge

October 10th, 1723 local time, 2552

As far as reconnaissance went, Solitas was an absolute nightmare. Constant snowstorms meant that up to half of the landmass was in a state of minimal visibility. The Recon Satellites struggled with the cloud cover, and although they could frequently work around the issue, it was still like looking through thick soup half of the time. Radar still worked clearly, which offered some idea of what was flying beneath the protective snowstorms.

If this was any other colony, Solitas would be an abandoned and forgotten piece of uninhabitable dirt. Richard bitterly thought, annoyed that something as inconsequential as the weather was standing in their way. But on this planet, it's home to a global superpower.

He and Bradford were having an especially large amount of difficulty at the moment, as they were trying to bring their intel on enemy positions up to date. Specialist Schnee helped how she could, while Lieutenant Chen controlled the satellites, maneuvering them to get better angles on enemy positions.

"Chen, do we have any idea where that final enemy Cruiser is?" Richard asked, noting that the largest enemy icon had disappeared from the holotable.

"It never existed Sir, it was a passenger liner that we misidentified. The SDC has only ever operated three full-size warships, and we already sorted that problem out." She responded, her former anxiety long since gone.

It seemed that Richard's guess had been right, it seemed that the crew really did need a victory. It also helped that they were getting paid again, courtesy of the SDC fortune that Curie had stolen. The Marines were far more solemn, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why.

Once this war is over, I will personally restock the entire bar in the Barracks, lord knows they've earned it. Richard thought, well aware that such gestures were meaningless in the face of dead comrades. But first, we have to win.

"Specialist Schnee, does the SDC operate any private Airfields?" Richard asked. "If we want to track down their last aircraft, that might be a good place to start.

"I'm afraid I've already looked, both of them are completely empty." Winter reported. "I had thought I told Lieutenant Bradford, but he must have forgotten to mention it."

"I was hoping to actually find their aircraft before I made my report..." Bradford stubbornly countered.

Richard interjected before the Specialist could respond, hoping to snuff their pointless confrontation in the bud. "I don't suppose you would have any idea where they would move all those planes?"

"The Central Distribution Center in Lampeter, more than likely." she answered. "It's the only place in Atlas with an airstrip big enough to house that many airships, unless they split them up."

Bradford gave a chuckle, and Richard was half-tempted to join him, it was a funny name. "Seriously, The Central Distribution Center? Who the hell names this crap?"

"You're guess is as good as mine. But if I had to guess, it was probably named by one of the idiots my father bought out." Winter said, apparently more frustrated than amused. "Unfortunately, it's also currently underneath a massive blizzard, so getting a visual on it is out of the question."

For the millionth time that day, Richard cursed Remnant's inhospitable weather. "We'll just plan around it for now. If we find out they have all of their aircraft somewhere else, we'll adjust our strategy."

"That seems like a fair enough course of action." Winter commented. "What surprised me is that the whole freighter fleet seems to have been moved. That's nearly a hundred airships of all different shapes and sizes, and all of them are just... gone. They must be worried if you got them to move that much hardware."

Bradford frowned at the missed opportunity. "Well, they likely know we would try to strike at a target like that. If we can knock out their supply vessels, we might be able to force enemy garrisons in the outskirts to surrender."

"You'd do quite a bit more than that, you'd end the war right there." Winter said with a huff of bemusement. "Of course, you'll also send the Dust Economy into an even deeper dive than you already have. Without those freighters, the railroads would be almost terminally overburdened."

Well... maybe we don't need to destroy them. Richard thought. He was about to voice his proposal, when he was interrupted by Ensign Gillespie.

"Sir, incoming hail from General Ironwood, priority one!" He shouted, immediately silencing the chatter of the Bridge.

Bradford gave a slight grimace, one that Richard shared, both of them knew what was coming. "Oh boy, should we get this over with?"

"We don't have much choice, we'll have to do this at some point, it might as well be now." Richard replied. He turned his attention to the terminal in front of his captain's chair as he sat down. "Patch him through!"

The terminal blinked, and Ironwood's office became visible, along with the man himself. The first thing about Ironwood that stood out to Richard was his posture. Normally, the man was professional and proper, but now, his stance was flawless. The second thing to stand out to him was the man's utterly neutral expression, a deathly serious glare that Richard found more than a little unnerving.

I've stared down the Covenant and bloodthirsty admirals alike, an expression is nothing! Richard stubbornly thought, adjusting his own posture accordingly to meet the unspoken challenge.

"Hello General, it's good to see you alive and well." Richard said, taking the initiative of the conversation. "I hope everything's been going well planetside."

Ironwood waved his hand dismissively, he was clearly not interested in the pleasantries. "You and I both know why I'm calling, Commander. Let's get right to it, shall we?"

Straight to the point. Richard thought, happy to oblige. "Very well, you have my full attention."

Ironwood took a deep breath. "I believe I have made a grave mistake in trusting you as much as I have. You have operated with total impunity and with very little oversight. I was willing to allow it because I was under the assumption that your UNSC was above petty motivation. Now, I learn that you've exploited this unprecedented authority, and that you've been killing prisoners? I understand that you're not from around here, but we do not tolerate that kind of justice on Remnant, especially not in Atlas."

Richard noticed how Winter tensed up even more than she already was. Richard was well aware that she could probably decapitate him with a single gesture, and kill the rest of the Bridge Crew with another before security could even be alerted. Of course, she would never be able to take on the entire crew of the Dominion, and they all knew that. Richard just hoped that cooler heads prevailed, he intended to prevent further conflict, and also survive to complete his mission.

"No enemy combatants have died under our custody, you should already be well aware of that by now. I'm sure Specialist Schnee had already brought you up to speed on the situation with Private Weber, so I don't see much point in reiterating what has already been stated." Richard said, doing his best to keep his expression neutral.

Ironwood narrowed his eyebrows. "She's told me enough. If you can't even control your own soldiers, what business do you have performing missions in Atlas?!"

Richard felt his mind unexpectedly boil with rage, it took every ounce of his willpower not to lay into Ironwood with a barrage of cataclysmically undiplomatic statements. He had not expected such blind hypocrisy, so he took a deep breath, and issued his response.

"That's... an awfully bold statement for a man whose military managed to lose a squadron of capital ships to enemy hands." Richard stated. "And a squadron of fighters, and personnel, and vast amounts of funding..."

"Enough!" Ironwood shouted, his anger barely contained beneath a stern glare. "This conflict has exposed plenty of faults in the Atlesian Military, I will not deny that. But you are no saint either, you've made that clear from the body count of this damn war alone! Do you have any idea what this Dust Shock is going to do to Atlas, to all of Remnant?! Your recklessness has jeopardized the lives of everyone in Atlas and Mantle alike!"

"I'm well aware that I'm not a saint." Richard coldly replied. A deeply uncomfortable memory momentarily surfaced itself, a flash of atomic light on a human world, which he quickly returned to the deepest recesses of his mind. "But our efforts are not without results, General. We've pulled nearly five-hundred souls out of the depths of hell. Meanwhile, you've deployed a single soldier in a non-combat role."

Instead of any sort of anger, Ironwood merely raised an eyebrow, his expression regaining some of it's calmer nature. "I'm afraid you're not taking into account one thing that you've failed to address, the Grimm. Do you know how many people have died from the increased Grimm activity thanks to your actions? It's more than five-hundred people I assure you. I've counted."

Damnit. Richard thought, noting the potency of the argument. "I have one warship and a single Company of Marines. You're a strategically educated man, you know very well that we can't be everywhere at once. Would you rather I lay waste to half a continent from orbit, erase the Grimm to a fine glass along with half of your land?"

"No, but you see, that's not my point." Ironwood continued, pressing past Richard's idle threat with an admittedly impressive degree of confidence. "While you've been putting down the SDC, our largest military supplier, we've been fighting a constant battle against the Grimm here in Atlas. Unlike you, we can't just flee to orbit and wait out the consequences of the actions of others, we have to deal with the ramifications of your battles!"

Richard paused, choosing his next words carefully. If he intended to talk the General back down to a state of cooperation, it would take some careful thinking, and almost certainly some concessions. "Okay General, you've made your point. So let me ask you clearly, just to dispel any confusion in the air, what is it that you want from us?"

Ironwood leaned back slightly, seemingly pleased with his progress, but his expression did not waver. "I want you to help us clean up this mess you and the Schnee Dust Company have made, and help us rebuild what's been lost. I want you to show me that I can trust you, that you genuinely have Atlas's best interests in mind. Prove to me that this is an alliance that can work, that I can trust your intentions."

Richard raised an eyebrow, exaggerating the gesture as to make it obvious. "What, that's it?"

Richard noted the carefully concealed expression on Ironwood's face, the faint look of surprise that he quickly covered up, Richard's strategy was working. "That is what I want, Commander. I want Atlas to be safe and back to normal."

Perfect. Richard thought. "Then we have our interests aligned, if nothing else, believe that eliminating Atlas is not an option for us. But if you genuinely make this alliance work, there are several things we need to address."

"I agree." Ironwood said. "Let's start with your rogue soldier, tell me what happened with her."

"Corporal Fairfire has been heavily demoted, taken off of active duty, and had half a years pay suspended to pay for the psychiatric costs of the man she tried to kill." Richard explained. "If we were back in home space, she would have faced Court Martial, and almost certainly jail time."

Winter and Ironwood both seemed somewhat surprised, although in exactly what context, Richard was not certain.

"Specialist Schnee has pointed out that her latent Semblance may have played a part in her actions, and has volunteered to assist the Corporal with its training." Richard continued.

Ironwood seemed surprised, apparently, he hadn't known that. "Is that true?"

"Yes, it would appear so, Sir." Winter answered, not a hint of nervousness in her voice. "I thought of it when I learned that she's had a previously spotless record, which... might sound familiar, I hope."

Ironwood gave a stern nod at her unspoken statement. "I understand entirely. If it turns out your suspicions are incorrect, I would advise you to abandon your efforts to train her. Either way, I will trust your judgement to handle this matter."

"Thank you, Sir." Winter said.

Well, that's certainly interesting. I'll have to ask her later if she has more information on what might be happening with Fairfire, I want to hear it. Richard thought.

"We should also address the prisoners we've taken, your concern for them is certainly justified, as they are technically your citizens." Richard reluctantly admitted. Although he personally wouldn't mind letting them rot in the brig, their fates were not his responsibility. "We have sixty human prisoners in the brig, all from Atlas. I do not believe they would get a fair trial in Atlesian Courts, even if the full extent of available evidence was revealed, you know this as well as I do."

"What's the alternative?" Ironwood asked doubtfully. "Are you going to court-martial sixty foreign citizens? I'll concede that our justice system has its faults, but it's certainly better than placing them under your sole judgement."

A fair concern. Richard thought, he did not want to be a tyrant. "I have no intention of court martialing them, they would not get a fair trial from us. Instead, I was going to propose they see justice in another Kingdom, somewhere neutral."

"The Kingdom of Vale then, if we must rely on a third party." Ironwood reluctantly suggested. "They've played no part in this war, and they can certainly handle an influx in cases."

Huh, I was going to suggest we go to them. Richard thought, somewhat amused at the coincidence. "I agree, we will ask for their cooperation once this conflict has ended."

"Good." Ironwood said, seemingly satisfied with their agreement. "While we are discussing grievances, I would greatly appreciate being notified of your plans before they happen. I did not know about your most recent operation until half an hour before it happened, which makes it difficult for me to ascertain your intentions."

"We can do that as well, we'll start putting together briefing packages for you and whatever staff you think you can trust." Richard said. "Which leads me to my next point, if we're going to start trusting one another, we're going to put together a plan as to how we're going to end this war."

Ironwood raised an eyebrow, most of the doubt on his face now gone. "I'm listening."

"We need to do more than end this war, we need to get the public on our side, or in your case, regain that trust." Richard said. "I can think of no better way than to show what the SDC has been doing to your media. Every misdeed, every price hike, and of course, the slaves."

To put out an oil fire, you set off an even bigger explosion right next to it. It'll suck out all of the oxygen, snuff the flame. Richard thought, remembering a quote from his classes on how to manipulate people from ONI. The hatred and shock from the reveal of the SDC's crimes would be intense, but it would also fade quickly. And if all of Atlas knew what the SDC had been doing, maybe they'd hate them even more than they hated the UNSC, which was a good first step to building relations.

Ironwood immediately shook his head. "All of those negative emotions would bring another wave of Grimm on top of what we're fighting. We'd risk being totally overrun, we can't afford to do that."

"That's in a worst-case scenario, if we plan this carefully, we can avoid that." Richard countered. "If we pick and choose what we release carefully, we might be able to mitigate just how much negativity we end up causing, and keep the Grimm at a manageable level. We'll fly sorties from the Dominion to handle the densest clusters of Grimm, meanwhile, you'll handle the actual defense."

Ironwood still looked uncertain. "That's a big risk to take, especially with Grimm. What if you're wrong, and there's too many for us to take on? We'd need a backup plan, something in reserve."

"The Dominion will act as reserve." Richard answered. "In a worst-case scenario, we'll bring the Dominion into the atmosphere and directly engage the Grimm with our weapons systems. My Marines are weary, but we'd be able to draw the Grimm off of you and give your men a moment to regroup."

That seemed to reassure him somewhat. "That's a good plan, but you would still have the SDC to deal with. Even if we pulled this off, the war wouldn't be over. Even if we consider the DMZ void for the duration of Grimm attacks, I can't let you launch a major strike in the middle of Atlas."

"Then we'll just have to deal with the Grimm first, take our enemies on one at a time." Richard admitted. "We can handle the SDC once Atlas is safe."

Ironwood gave a slight smile, it seemed that his words were having some effect. "I'm glad that we're on the same page, Commander. But we still have a lot of work to do before we actually put this plan into action, and then I'll need to run it past the Council."

"Yes, we do." Richard said. "Lieutenant Bradford, bring up the roster for the airwing, we have some planning to do."

"Aye Sir." his XO said, a rare smile on his face.

"And one last thing, Commander." Ironwood sternly interjected. "If I had a better option than accepting your help, I would take it."

"If I had a better means of proving that we're trustworthy, I'd do that instead of this." Richard replied. "But trust can come later, because the Grimm are everyone's enemy."

"Well put." Ironwood said.

Beacon Academy

October 11th, 1334 local time, 2552

Normally, the Darter was meant to be used as a cargo hauler, carrying supplies between the mothership and a base on a planet's surface. Ben had previously made a journey riding in the cargo compartment of the spacecraft, and it was far from a comfortable journey. This time however, the only other people aboard were Fireball and her co-pilot, leaving plenty of room in the cockpit for the two Spartans to sit.

"Coming up on Vale now, ETA five minutes." Fireball said. "Technically I could go faster, but I don't think that the civvies are used to that many sonic booms..."

"Good call, take it slowly. We do not want to cause a panic, ideally, only a few people will know that we're here." Jorge said, his voice lacking the familiar alterations of a helmet, as he had removed his.

I don't know how he can stand that, I feel naked without my armor. Ben thought. While he was no stranger to taking off his helmet for some fresh air, he preferred to do so privately, Jorge seemed a lot more comfortable with it.

"Roger that Sir. On that note, mind if we take the scenic route, maybe get some good shots of the skyline?" Fireball asked.

Curie immediately voiced her approval. "I would certainly be interested in more architectural data!"

Jorge looked unamused. "We aren't here for a joyride, just get us where we need to be."

"Aye Aye, Sir." Fireball replied, her expression faltering somewhat before suddenly perking back up. "Woah, check out the view."

Ben directed his attention out of the front viewport, and quickly realized what had grabbed her attention. The coastline in the distance was now close enough that the silhouette of a large city could be made out. As they flew closer, Ben noticed a few oddities with the skyline, most notably the lack of skyscrapers. There were a handful of tall buildings, but for the most part, it was like one massive suburb.

"Oh my, how beautiful!" Curie said. It was nice to hear her sound genuinely happy about something.

"It seems... oddly rural." Jorge noted. "Even Atlas had more skyscrapers than this."

"I think it's quite nice, it makes all of the taller buildings seem even more impressive!" Curie protested.

Fireball shifted awkwardly in her seat as she opened up her navigation system. "On that note, I think we're going to the biggest one, that should be Beacon."

"Curie, could you give her a hand?" Ben asked, noticing the pilot's frustrations with navigating.

"Of course." she answered. "There, I've placed a navpoint on your HUD."

Fireball gave a grateful nod as she returned to flying. "Thanks, ma'am. Usually, when I'm flying in a place like this, all of the buildings are on fire... or worse. It's been a nice change of pace, but it also means I need to re-learn urban navigation."

"Careful ma'am, you keep that line of thought up, you might just say something optimistic." her co-pilot cheekily said.

"You watch your tongue there Warrant Officer, I reserve the right to spank you in my cabin!" Fireball countered.

Oh, brother... Ben thought, a quick glance at Jorge's posture revealed that he was similarly exasperated. We aren't even at the school yet...

Fireball and her co-pilot continued to bicker as he and Jorge did their best to ignore them. While Jorge technically had the authority to tell them to shut up, he didn't, presumably out of respect for Fireball's position as the commanding officer of the spacecraft. After a few minutes of hapless bickering, they brought the Darter down on one of the landing pads outside of Beacon Academy.

It was a surprisingly large place, so large that it effectively made up a portion of the city itself. The primary thing that stood out to Ben, aside from the elaborate and decorative architecture, was the lack of practically any defensive structures. The whole compound seemed to have a castle-like design, but in terms of defendability, it was severely lacking. Cover was practically nonexistent, as were any chokepoints. The central Spire that presumably held Vale's CCTS tower was also poorly supported, and would likely prove easy to topple with even a moderate degree of firepower.

I suppose when you have dozens of special forces operatives walking around at all times, it can give you the illusion of security. Ben critically thought. Why would they make such avoidable mistakes, aren't they expecting Grimm this close to the edge of the city? Or maybe their defenses just aren't visible from here?

"Is something wrong?" Curie asked, presumably she had found a fault in one of his Vitals.

"No, well, kind of." Ben awkwardly answered. He and Jorge descended the ladder into the cargo compartment of the Darter, before climbing out onto the landing pad itself. "This place doesn't seem like much of a military installation at all, are you sure we're at the right place?"

"I am quite certain." Curie answered. Behind them, Jorge closed the hatch to the Darter and double-checked that his magnum was holstered properly, Ben quickly did the same with his own weapon. "The Huntsmen are a very loosely organized type of warrior. In many ways, this place is more like a community college than a training camp."

So they act like civilians, wonderful. Ben thought, severely lacking the same enthusiasm that Curie had. Well, maybe I should reserve my judgement, surely they wouldn't give such powerful weapons and abilities to people with lackluster discipline.

Taking a look around, it was very apparent just how right she was. It seemed that only some of the students wore their uniforms, and those who did tended to alter them in some fashion. One girl had added a red cape to her uniform, another seemed to have fashioned their own matching hat to match the uniform. One Faunus girl seemed to have replaced the standard skirt with a set of pants.

I suppose I can't fault that, there's no tactical reason to bring a skirt into battle. That wouldn't save you from thorns, let alone shrapnel. Ben thought, suddenly all the more thankful for his armor. "Are we ready, Sir?"

"Just about." Jorge answered, before returning his helmet to his head. He ran a quick inspection of the contents of the satchel he was carrying, before sealing it again. "There, now we're good to go. Curie, which way to the Headmaster's Office?"

"Actually, I believe we were instructed to wait here." she answered. "I've already sent a message to the Headmaster, he should be on his way."

"I see." Jorge acknowledged. "Sergeant, get a look at anything that looks abnormal, we want to record all of this."

"Yes Sir... although I might need another storage drive." Ben jokingly answered.

"Yeah, me too..." Jorge wearily voiced his agreement.

The people were undoubtedly the most interesting thing about the school, and it seemed that the inverse was also true. Stolen glances and quiet murmurs confirmed that he and Jorge seemed to have stolen everyone's attention, although nobody actually approached them. It also seemed like most people carried their weapons along with them, which made it fairly easy to gauge what kinds of equipment people chose to operate.

Lots of melee weapons. Ben noted, picking out staffs, swords, spears, a mace, and even a kachi. Maybe it's a method of ammo preservation? I suppose with an Aura, you could afford to take bigger risks like engaging in hand to hand, especially if you can amplify the effects of the weapon.

"Do you think there's a reason that everyone's out and about instead of in class?" Ben asked, focusing his camera on a statue that displayed two Huntsmen and a Beowolf. There was an inscription written on the base, but he couldn't make out what it said from the angle.

"I believe that everyone is between classes, which also explains why nobody has approached us yet... and why they're all leaving." Curie said, adding the last of her statement with a hint of disappointment.

It seemed that she was right, as most of the students were heading back into the various buildings around the campus. The girl with the red cape from earlier had to be literally dragged along by her white-haired friend, as she was practically frothing at the mouth with excitement at the sight of the Spartans and the Darter.

I wish I shared the enthusiasm. Ben thought, remembering that standard protocol back home was to shoot at the aliens, not to make new friends. "Don't worry Curie, I'm sure the Headmaster can answer your questions."

"On that note, That's him." Jorge interjected, pointing out a middle-aged man with silver hair and a green outfit, who was exiting the base of the main tower. "Come on Sergeant, let's get down to business."

"I'll follow your lead." Ben offered, following the more experienced Spartan as they walked to meet the Headmaster halfway.

As they got closer, Ben got a better look at the Headmaster. He didn't look much like a Huntsman at all, more like what he imagined a librarian would look like, with soft brown eyes and an unreadable expression. Still, first impressions were deceiving, and Ben could tell by the manner in which the man carried his cane that he was not the harmless civilian that he looked to be.

You only grip a weapon like that, or maybe a tool. Ben noted, feeling a slight uncomfortable twinge in his gut. Just because he looks harmless doesn't mean he is.

"Good to see you Headmaster." Jorge said, once they were close enough to speak. "Thank you for having us on such a short notice."

"It wasn't a major inconvenience." Ozpin humbly answered. "I take it that this is Sergeant Benjamin?"

"I am." he confirmed, before gesturing towards the back of his head. "And Curie's in my armor, she's-"

"-an Artificial Intelligence, Lieutenant Jorge has already explained everything." Ozpin interrupted, although he seemed to make an effort to do so politely.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Headmaster." Curie said, speaking through Ben's helmet speakers. "I have read a great many things about you."

"The pleasure is all mine, Curie." Ozpin replied. "Speaking with someone over a computer monitor is, at least in my opinion, never the same as being able to speak with them in person. I'm afraid all of my communications with you and your crew so far have been electronic, and regrettably short."

The subtle jab wasn't lost on either Spartan, and Jorge issued their passive-aggressive response. "Yes well, we have a lot on our plate, as you can imagine."

"I didn't mean to imply otherwise." Ozpin said, somewhat apologetically. "I've just been eager to finally discuss things face to face with your people, you've made quite the impact on Remnant."

"Well then, let's get right to it, shall we?" Jorge said. "Do you have somewhere more private we could speak?"

"Of course, my office should do just fine, please follow me." Ozpin answered.

Salem's Castle

October 11th, 2243 local time, 2552

Sometimes Salem didn't need to sleep, sometimes she did. Her bodily needs were slowly becoming more inconsistent, which was probably a side effect of the meddling of the gods, working in tandem with the Grimm Essence that gave her some of her more unconventional powers. Tonight, it seemed like she had a need to sleep, as she felt a sense of weariness when the Doctor summoned her to his lab to tell her something.

She opened the door with little regard for staying quiet. "Doctor, I sincerely hope for your sake that you have something meaningful to report."

"I am happy to confirm that I do." Watts replied, the smug satisfaction on his face only made less impressive by the utter mess that his lab had become over the last couple of days. "I've been reworking my propaganda web-crawlers to adjust to recent events, and the results speak for themselves."

Watts raised a television remote and pointed at a seemingly random monitor, before turning on some kind of news broadcast.

"-The UNSC has once again denied to comment on their operations across the northern territories. Meanwhile, dozens of missing persons reports for Schnee Dust Company employees have been dismissed by the Council as "unfounded". General Ironwood-"

Watts turned off the monitor. "It's like that on every station, constantly. I've also started introducing the odd piece of lie-riddled pro-UNSC propaganda, only to maul it relentlessly with multiple other accounts. I was inspired by what you said about getting the ball rolling, once you get someone angry, it's easy to get them to lash out."

Salem stifled the urge to roll her eyes. Ever since Watts had joined them, he had always given off the impression that he was still competing for grant money with some unseen competitor. He seemed to revel in his presentations, even though Salem only cared for results.

"What about Atlas, how has the General responded to the crisis on his doorstep?" Salem asked, ignoring his demonstrations.

"With silence." Watts unhappily reported. "I know he's plotting something, but I cannot for the life of me figure out what. They've implemented a new encryption system on certain networks that means I can't see what they're planning."

Salem sighed, that was a big issue. It was indefinitely harder to counter the enemy's actions when they actually knew how to conceal their plans. "Well, you knew him rather well, why don't you give me an educated guess?"

Watts seemed far less certain about his words, but complied nonetheless. "Well, if I didn't know any better, they're bracing for something. Airships are getting their patrol schedules reworked, and the Huntsmen have been working overtime to wear down the Grimm."

"That is what I was afraid of, we won't be able to take on Atlas without people on the inside." Salem said, frustrated by the setback. "Focus your efforts on sewing mutual discontent, and continue to secure whatever information you can on these aliens. We'll have to abandon our plans for Atlas... for now."

"You're pulling back the Grimm?" Watts asked, seemingly displeased. "Well if we aren't targeting Atlas, where do we strike?"

"You worry about doing your job, I will handle the strategizing." Salem stated.

Beacon Academy

October 11th, 1354 local time, 2552

The biggest obstacle that Jorge and Ben ran into on the way to Headmaster Ozpin's office was the elevator. It simply wasn't strong enough to lift two fully armored Spartans at once, meaning that they had to take two trips. Jorge offered to take the second trip, hoping that Cuire would have an extra bit of time to sweep the tower for any monitoring devices or security threats. He also wanted an extra minute to mentally prepare himself for everything that he needed from Ozpin.

Getting his and Ben's Auras examined was their current priority, and the reason why Ozpin had agreed to speak with them in the first place. But Jorge also had orders to deliver a proposal from the Bridge Crew to the Headmaster, apparently they wanted his cooperation in developing some kind of weapon using Dust. His cooperation was not required, but Jorge was authorized to offer limited technological advances in exchange for his assistance.

Maybe we should start with capable elevators. Jorge impatiently thought.

While he waited, he made sure to collect some footage on a map of the campus. There were a few things that he didn't expect to find at the Academy, most notably a Dust Laboratory and a Weaponsmithing Forge.

So Huntsmen also build weapons? Jorge thought, before the elevator arrived back at his level.

He briefly looked over the elevator buttons and selected the one highest on the list, as Ozpin had instructed. He gave a brief thought as to why such a slender building would have so many floors, before remembering that without modern urban planning, these kinds of oddities were common.

After around half a minute, the elevator doors opened, and Jorge found himself in Ozpin's office. It was admittedly impressive, with clockwork mechanisms built seemingly haphazardly over the broad windows. The view was also similarly impressive, from this office, most of Vale was visible.

It's more than just a pleasantry, it's a strategic overwatch. Jorge noted, perhaps the school had more thought put into it than it initially seemed. Ben also appeared to have noticed the lack of defensive structures, which reassured him that his thinking was justified. He chose to stand next to Ben, only a brief distance in front of Ozpin's desk.

"We should be able to speak freely here." Ozpin said, opting to stand along with the Spartans rather than take a seat. "You said that you two have been having issues with your Auras, something that even a former student of mine couldn't identify."

"That's correct." Jorge said. "She said we have unusually low reserves of Aura."

"I see." Ozpin said, clearly in deep thought. "Bear with me a moment."

He walked behind his desk and retrieved something from one of the drawers. Ben recognized it as similar to the electronic devices that they had found in the possession of the SDC mercenaries.

"This is a scroll. It has a great many uses, but for now, we'll just use this one to try to gauge your Auras." Ozpin explained, opening the device to reveal a hard-light screen.

I still don't understand how they have hard-light and not spaceflight. Jorge thought, somewhat annoyed at the seemingly benign use of such valuable technology. "How does that work?"

"Every person has a Soul, and that Soul radiates certain signals." Ozpin explained. "Some of these Signals relate to your Aura, and using a device like this, you can get an idea of how much somebody has."

That sounds incredibly useful. Jorge thought, and judging by the slight shift in Ben's posture, he was thinking the same thing.

"That explains a considerable amount of my problems." Curie said, her voice carrying a faint hint of annoyance. "I would not have thought to check background radiation for a person's spiritual essence."

"If it's any consolation, that discovery avoided Remnant's brightest minds for thousands of years." Ozpin said. "But with this, I should be able to get some idea of just how much Aura you have."

Ozpin made several gestures on the scroll, before pausing with a look of extreme confusion. "That can't be right..."

"Is something wrong?" Jorge asked, noting the mildly disturbed expression that now occupied Ozpin's face.

"Well, probably." Ozpin answered. "Depending on which sensitivity I use, you two either have three souls... or one."

"I'm not sure I understand." Jorge said.

"Neither do I." Ozpin admitted.

Ben stepped forward and raised a hand. "Hold on a moment, Mags also felt Curie, remember?"

"She did?" Ozpin asked, seemingly relieved. "So she has a Soul as well..."

"That's our working theory." Jorge said.

I can't believe I just said that. Jorge thought in a moment of clarity, not believing the sheer ridiculousness of the situation he now found himself in. Curie notably didn't interject, which made Jorge wonder exactly what she was thinking.

"Well, that explains a worrying amount." Ozpin said. "It seems that Miss Margaret was entirely correct, you two have the lowest reserves of Aura I've ever seen."

"What about me?" Curie asked.

"I couldn't say." Ozpin answered, putting the scroll back on his desk. "Without an activated Aura, I can't tell how much you have. That being said, your Aura seems to be much more powerful than both Jorge and Ben, as it's a lot easier to pick up."

"I... see." Curie answered, a hint of worry in her voice.

"How do we fix ours?" Ben asked.

Ozpin's answer was rather blunt. "You don't."

"But we-" Ben immediately followed up.

"You can't fix what isn't broken, Sergeant." Ozpin elaborated. "Your Auras are perfectly functional, but something in your bodies is obstructing them. An Aura is a physical manifestation of the Soul, while your Soul is fine, it's your bodies that are the problem."

The Augmentations. Jorge quietly realized, and judging by the slight shift in Ben's posture, he realized it too.

"It seems that whatever happened to you two, it's affected Sergeant Benjamin the most dramatically." Ozpin continued. "Now, I have no right to intrude upon your private lives, much less your medical history, but without any further information, there's nothing that I can do to help you."

Hmm, slyly done. Jorge thought, admiring the finely-executed manipulation that the Headmaster was performing. To anyone who wasn't a Spartan, it might have even worked. But he and Ben were not about to share classified intelligence for the sake of personal gain, even if it may have been strategically justifiable. "Then I'm afraid that we'll just have to make do with what we have."

"Are you certain you want to go into battle with so little Aura?" Ozpin asked, seemingly surprised by Jorge's answer.

"Quite certain, we've done just fine without it." Jorge firmly answered. "Although while I'm here, I also have orders to deliver this."

He reached for the satchel under his arm and opened it, before removing a folder containing a series of papers. He handed it to Ozpin, who took the folder and gave the contents a quick examination.

"What is all of this?" Ozpin asked, seemingly at a lack of understanding.

"We're aware that your organization makes frequent use of an element known as Dust. We're also aware that our conflict with the SDC has jeopardized the global supply." Jorge said. "I believe that the Commander was hoping that the Huntsmen Academies could cooperate to develop a solution."

Ozpin blankly read over the first paper in the stack, before sealing the folder again. "Why the Huntsmen Academies? Surely Atlas has far more research and development capabilities, why not go to them?"

"For a multitude of reasons, but most notably, the Huntsmen Academies are international." Jorge answered. "We don't want to protect Atlas, we want to protect everyone."

Ozpin thought it over, taking another look at the folder, before looking back at Jorge. "I'll need to think this over, and discuss this with the other Headmasters. Do you mind leaving this with me?"

"Not at all." Jorge answered.

"Good. I should have an answer for you shortly, feel free to stay on campus for the time being." Ozpin said, still seemingly taken aback by the offer. "Was there anything else that I could help you with?"

Jorge thought it over, trying to remember if he had forgotten something, when Ben interjected. "Sir, what about Curie?"

"Right." Jorge said, now reminded of their tertiary goal. "We wanted to know what would happen if Curie's Aura was activated."

Ozpin's expression stonified. "I couldn't say for certain. Technically anything that has a Soul can conjure an Aura, but I don't see how someone without a body would actually do that."

"I see." Curie said, her voice clouded with disappointment.

"Oddly enough, it seems that you have the same problem as Ben and Jorge." Ozpin noted. "Your Soul is just one part of an Aura, you also need something to conduct it with. For most people that's their body, their arms or legs, their weapons, even their clothing."

"What about armor?" Ben asked.

"It's certainly possible, but I couldn't say for sure." Ozpin answered. "I would advise talking to someone who knows a bit more about A.I than I do, they might be able to offer you a more helpful answer."

Mags said the same thing, go to Atlas. Jorge thought. "We'll take that into account, thank you for your time, Headmaster."

"I'm happy to have you at any time, Lieutenant." Ozpin said.

He and Ben returned to the Darter to await Ozpin's answer. Once they had brought Fireball up to speed, the two of them sat down outside the spacecraft.

"Sir, permission to speak freely?" Ben asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"Granted." Jorge answered.

"Why send Spartans on an op like this?" Ben asked. "We're soldiers, not diplomats or hell, even scientists!"

Very good question. Jorge thought, but he still had to address his subordinate's concerns. "Because there's no active combat that we need to respond to, and because we represent a very difficult obstacle to kidnap or assassinate to our enemies."

"I suppose that makes sense." Ben acknowledged. "What about Ozpin, what do you make of him?"

"Well, he's not what I was expecting." Jorge answered. Truth be told, the man made him slightly uncomfortable. He gave off the same general attitude of an overconfident ONI agent who knew they were untouchable.

"I've got a really bad feeling about him... but I can't say why." Ben said, seemingly echoing Jorge's thoughts. "Do you think he's put together what the real problem is with our Auras?"

"No, and it's not our concern to worry about that." Jorge answered. "Our concern is how we're going to beat our opponents in the field."

Ben nodded. "We'll just find a way to achieve victory without Aura."

"Yes, we will." Jorge said.

He was happy that the younger Spartan hadn't pushed the issue, it showed that he had a degree of respect for Jorge's experience and authority. Ben certainly had the mindset of a Spartan, but not the experience.

That will change. Jorge thought, well aware that their future missions would not be so easy.