Beacon Academy
October 11th, 1426 local time, 2552
The longer Ben spent waiting by the Darter, the more he began to realize just how foreign Beacon Academy really was to him. Curie had been spot on, it was nothing like a military installation, let alone something that they would see back home. It made him slightly uncomfortable for reasons that he couldn't quite pinpoint. Perhaps it was just how surreal everything was, or maybe it was because he wasn't accustomed to being somewhere that everyday civilians might live.
Not civilians, soldiers. Ben reminded himself, although the Huntsmen seemed to act more like a police force and a military rolled into one, which was something that Commander Richard had voiced extreme concern about.
Jorge didn't seem to be focused on everything around him, he'd returned his helmet to his head at some point, and he was reading something on his datapad that had secured his focus. Curie's quiet nature meant that she was probably focusing on gathering what data she could, as they were presumably leaving shortly. Ben occupied the time by looking out at the skyline of Vale, it seemed that Beacon had been purposely positioned at a higher elevation to overlook the city, creating an admittedly impressive view.
"Do you mind if I ask you something?" Jorge asked, seemingly out of the blue. He placed his datapad back into its magnetic lock, seemingly frustrated with something.
Ben stopped leaning on the Darter and straightened up his posture. "What is it, Sir?"
"Nothing formal, just a... personal question." Jorge explained. Ben returned to his relaxed posture, taken slightly off guard.
"Uh, sure. What did you want to ask?" Ben awkwardly replied.
"You all ended up here around the start of September, right?" Jorge asked.
"September Tenth." Curie answered. "We then underwent a sublight burn to Remnant for several weeks."
Jorge nodded in understanding. "What was the last report that you got from Reach?"
Ah, now I understand. Ben thought, feeling his stomach drop. "I meant to tell you earlier... but I never got a good chance to."
"Spit it out." Jorge grumbled, like he already knew the answer.
"Reach fell." Ben simply said, complying with the instruction.
Jorge froze, he knew what that meant. A human planet being lost meant that it was glassed and that the people on the surface were all dead. And losing Reach meant that the Navy would be knocked off its back foot and effectively flat onto its back.
A lot of good people went down with Reach, and at least some of Jorge's team were probably among them. Ben sadly thought. Still, MIA Spartans aren't dead Spartans. Grey Team went MIA all the time, but they always came back.
"All official military actions were postponed after the catastrophic defeat on August Thirtieth." Curie added, her voice rich with sympathy.
Jorge gave a sad, silent nod. It took him a moment to vocalize a response, which worried Ben a lot more than he had expected. "I think deep down, I already knew that to some degree. I just needed someone to say it like it is, thank you."
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Ben offered, not really understanding what to say.
"It's not our concern anymore." Jorge wearily replied. "Everyone back home will have to deal with the consequences of Reach falling... but not us. We're isolated now, in a whole other stretch of reality. We have to stay strong, save whoever's still alive on this wretched rock, maybe even give humanity a chance to live if the worst happens back home."
"Well said." Ben voiced his agreement. Just because they couldn't defend the rest of the Surviving Colonies did not mean they could ignore their duties to protect humanity. If anything, the war with the Covenant made Remnant all the more important.
"There is hope." Curie said. "Before we left Onyx, the rest of Ben's Company completed their training, which means there are another three-hundred and thirty Spartans in the fight."
That didn't help the Alpha and Beta Companies. Ben silently thought. Hopefully, the drastic war situation would cause HIGHCOM to exercise a bit more caution with their remaining Spartans. Still, he was happy for her help, she seemed to understand how to reassure people a lot more than he did.
Jorge turned to look at him, and by consequence, Curie. "Thank you, Curie."
He didn't say anything else after that. It surprised Ben just how important Reach apparently was to Jorge, while it was certainly a strategic strongpoint, it seemed like he had a more personal attachment to it. Ben found it difficult to relate, the only planet he had any real history with was Onyx, and to a much lesser extent, Remnant.
I suppose I wouldn't be happy to hear that Onyx was gone. Ben thought, giving him some idea of what Jorge was probably going through at the moment.
While Ben had lost things and people that he had cared about, he was so young when it happened that he couldn't remember them all that well. Still, even if it was hard to relate personally, he had sympathy for the older Spartan. He had made the ultimate sacrifice to save Reach and only survived via a fluke event. To hear that it was all for nothing...
Ben shook his head and cleared his thoughts, Jorge would be fine left with his own thoughts. He was a Spartan, and his tenacity would undoubtedly hold strong. Ben needed to keep his mind sharp and his eyes open for Ozpin. The mission took priority, not their personal concerns.
I wonder how long we're going to be waiting here. Ben thought, realizing that Ozpin had neglected to give them a timetable as for when to expect his answer.
"Curie, do you know how long something like this is supposed to take?" Ben asked, hoping he didn't come across as too impatient.
"I'm afraid not." Curie answered, her tone making it very clear that she was just as bored as he was. "I could intrude on his camera systems-"
"Don't do that." Jorge softly interjected. "We're acting as representatives right now, is that really how we want them to view the UNSC?"
Curie huffed with indignation. "You act like I'd get caught."
"My order stands." Jorge firmly said.
"There's always a risk for a mission failure, Curie." Ben added, somewhat annoyed by her flagrant objection to a direct order.
She gave a reluctant sigh, much to his relief. "I am well aware, thank you."
"We will wait here, and when the Headmaster is ready to give us his answer, he will inform us." Jorge firmly stated.
The faint lack of patience in his voice told Ben all he needed to know about his thoughts on the situation. Hearing the news about Reach certainly didn't help.
I'm starting to wonder if sending us really was the best idea. Ben thought.
UNSC Dominion, Bridge
October 11th, 1434 local time, 2552
It turned out that the logic behind classifying the different levels of Grimm activity was fairly solid. The standards weren't based around sheer numbers of Grimm, but the threat they posed, as well as how likely a major strike was. While there were certainly some faults in the assignment of those threat levels, it was an impressive system, considering the fact that Remnant lacked administrative A.I.
The Dominion wasn't in much better shape in that regard, now that they were largely operating without Curie. But having recon satellites and scouting packages for the Pelicans still offered them an advantage when it came to gathering data on Grimm movements. Combined with the data from Remnant's Kingdoms, they had a pretty good idea of where the Grimm were and where they were going to be.
The biggest problem that both Richard and General Ironwood faced was trying to decide which targets posed the greatest threat. Richard had immediately volunteered to take on the largest and most armored of the Grimm, well aware that the Dominion's Airwing had both the firepower and the range to eliminate the threats with far more success and safety than the Remnant natives. But the Dominion only had so many aircraft to launch, the Atlesian Airfleet and Army would have to take on the rest.
If I was standing on the bridge of a carrier, this would be a far different story. A few squadrons of Longswords and Shortswords and I would wipe that continent clean of anything threatening that's bigger than a daisy. Richard thought, his mind muddled by frustration. He looked at the holotable again, looking at the small models that represented what units were assigned to kill what targets, and gave a mental swear at his sudden inability to think properly.
"Specialist, how big of a threat would you say that a Lancer squadron poses to aircraft?" Bradford asked, noting the presence of a small group of the fliers near a critical waypoint. The holographic model displayed them as some kind of giant insect, which gave Richard a sense of fear that he felt was entirely justified.
"Most Atlesian aircraft would have a bit of trouble fighting them, but your interceptors may be able to outrun them entirely." Winter answered. "If you want my opinion, a Lancer Swarm demands the attention of a Huntsman, preferably someone with a more methodical approach. Guided Missiles are the best way to deal with them, but cannons will do the same job in a pinch."
"I'll ask the General to send some troops, either that or we'll send the Wolverines." Bradford replied after a moment of thought.
"Remember Lieutenant, we don't want to deploy too many of our Marines." Richard stated, noting Bradford's suggestion to use their few self-propelled Anti-Aircraft pieces. "We want to keep most of our ground forces in reserve, just in case we can't keep the Grimm back once they start moving. If there're any incursions around the Atlesian lines, we'll step in to plug the gaps."
And also we can't lose any more people, so let's throw bombs first and people second. Richard silently added. Bradford's quiet nod confirmed that he understood the subtle addition to his orders.
"Atlas can handle the fight on the ground." Winter said, the certainty in her voice unwavering. "It's the air that we're going to need help with."
"We only have so many planes." Bradford pointed out, with more than a little frustration in his voice. "Half of our airwing are satellites, and most of them don't even carry weapons!"
"Why not use your ship's missiles?" Winter snobbily asked. "I was under the impression that they have considerable range."
"They do, but range isn't the problem." Bradford argued. "Most of our missiles are loaded with armor-piercing warheads, which aren't exactly built for strategic bombardment like you're proposing."
Winter seemed irritated by his answer. "Well, do you have a better option?"
"Both of you, cool it." Richard firmly said, there was enough bickering on his Bridge, and it seemed like Winter and Bradford caused most of it. "We'll use our old Trebuchet missiles instead, this is what they were built for. That should kill off enough ground targets that you'll be able to re-equip some of your aircraft to fight in the sky instead."
Bradford seemed doubtful. "We won't be able to replace those, Sir."
Richard understood the man's concern, even if his delivery could use a bit more grace. Any kind of large scale weapon was totally irreplaceable to the UNSC, at least for the time being. They could make small arms and ammo without any trouble, their foundries were specifically built around replenishing the equipment of Marines. But something like an orbital support missile was much more complex, and the manufacturing facilities simply did not exist on the Dominion, nor on Remnant.
It's not like we can go ask the Innies for their missiles. Richard thought with a hint of amusement, remembering one occurrence over the colony of Minab where that very thing had happened.
"Keeping Atlas safe takes priority." Richard countered. "Preserving munitions is critical to our long term goals, but we also need to be careful not to be too stingy with what we do have. We aren't going to let a Kingdom be threatened by Grimm while we're still flying."
"Aye Sir." Bradford voiced his compliance and agreement. Winter gave Richard a silent nod of thanks, which he returned.
"But while we're on that note, we should consider deploying microslugs." Bradford continued.
"Microslugs?" Winter asked. It seemed that even though she was doing her best to bring herself up to speed on the UNSC's equipment, she hadn't studied that particular topic yet.
Bradford adjusted his posture to better prepare himself for Winter's inevitable protest, Richard did the same. "It's an old trick, from back in the day where you could only carry three or four MAC slugs on a ship. You take a far small projectile, something you can crudely fashion in a backyard forge, and load it into the ship's main MAC gun."
Winter remained silent while he spoke, giving him her undivided attention. It made Richard slightly uncomfortable how nervous the Remnant natives became whenever the MAC gun was brought up.
"Give it a bit of framework so that it's got the same accuracy of a normal slug, and you have yourself a cost-effective way of offering fire support from orbit. You typically only fire it at around half power, otherwise, you start playing with the accuracy a bit too much to be safe." Bradford concluded.
"The main cannon?" Winter asked doubtfully, once she was certain he was done speaking. "Are you sure you wish to deploy something like that again? Surely that isn't necessary..."
Remnant's going to have to get their minds around WMDs at some point... Richard thought, dreading the day that would inevitably happen. ...But not today.
"The impact has more in line with an artillery barrage, rather than what you saw earlier." He said, hoping to quash her fears. "Believe me, I'm not any more eager to throw out our MAC slugs than you are. In the ungodly event the Covenant ever does show up... we're going to need them."
Winter's expression very much so reflected the seriousness of his statement. She knew better than anyone else from Remnant what the Covenant could do, he'd shown her enough glassed planets to make sure of that. Hopefully, his harsh honesty would make it through her pride, and that she would indirectly give Ironwood second thoughts about his fear of the weapon.
"As for using microslugs, we don't currently have any, we'd have to make them first." Richard pointed out. "Our Foundry is busy, so we'd need to get them from somewhere else."
Bradford frowned as he quickly realized the deadline for the operation meant that they wouldn't have time to do that. "We'll shelve that idea then. What about Onyx Team, maybe we could-"
Richard shook his head. "They're either busy, exhausted, or in Sickbay. They'll need at least a few days before we put them in the field again. Not to mention that with Fairfire off the roster, their unit strength is going to be even weaker."
"I'll see to her once Atlas is safe." Winter reassured him. "But for now, myself and Mags have our work cut out for us. We have six platoons of troops to teach how to use their Auras properly... and they're a bit... rowdy."
"Yeah, that's to be expected." Bradford said, with a rare look of empathy. "I'm surprised that you and her work together so well, given that-"
"What, because she's a Faunus?" Winter snapped at the subtle accusation, but did not do so in a manner that would throw off her professional demeanor. "Anyone who goes through the training to become a Huntress has my respect, that takes a degree of valor, no matter what race she may be."
Respect through sweat and bloodshed, I guess that makes some sense. Richard thought, although some of Winter's insensitive comments did tend to rub the crew the wrong way. Maybe a trip down Earth's history of racial violence will change that.
"I understand." Bradford said, evidently surprised by her abrupt and deliberate response. "But let's get back on topic. We have four more ground-based targets here, and no assets to spare for them."
Richard sighed, he could ignore the obvious solution no longer. "Then we bring the Dominion into high-atmosphere, and we use the Point-Defense Guns to eliminate them."
"I thought we were keeping the Dominion in reserve?" Bradford asked, seemingly surprised by his decision.
"That was before I realized just how much we're trying to kill in a single coordinated strike." Richard explained. "Should Atlas come under threat, we'll redirect the Dominion to cover it. If it doesn't, then we have no excuse to not be where we're clearly needed."
Both of them looked at him as they took in his words. It was a risky plan, that went without saying, but they were trying to kill a large amount of Grimm in a very short amount of time, and risks were simply inherent to battle. Neither of them looked entirely convinced by his words, and Ironwood still hadn't given his signature to the operation.
"Well, I hope it goes as well as the last time you took on the Grimm with your vessel." Winter said, straining for a bit of hopefulness. "Now, if that's everything, I can send the plan down to the General."
"Do it." Richard instructed. "If he sees any flaws or a way to do any of this more efficiently, let me know, and I'll adjust our strategy accordingly."
As she left, Bradford turned to Richard with a concerned look on his face. "I know you stand by your decisions, and I will carry out your orders. But I do have some concerns, if you'd care to hear them."
Richard nodded, giving him the signal to continue.
"It's going to be a decade or so before we can start manufacturing some of these assets, this is a very big risk." Bradford said. "God help us if we lose even a single bird, half the damn components aboard those things are going to need factories to build the machines capable of making the parts, and that's not including the fusion reactors."
Richard sighed. "We have to take the risk. Bailing Atlas out of this mess is the first step to rebuilding relations, if we don't do that, we'll never get a chance to replace our equipment in the first place. Not to mention, we do not want Atlas as an enemy, even if the threat they pose to the Dominion itself is negligible."
"I understand Sir." Bradford confirmed. "I just want you to be aware of some of the more subtle consequences of decisions like this, it's my job to keep you informed, after all."
"And you do your job very well." Richard replied. "Now, let's deal with some of the finer details."
Beacon Academy
October 11th, 1451 local time, 2552
There were only so many times that Ben could appreciate Beacon's architecture before he admitted he was bored. So when Ozpin called them back to his office, Ben found his earlier reluctance to be acting as a diplomat rapidly disappear. After another brief period of frustration operating the lackluster elevator, he and Jorge stood before Ozpin once again.
"Thank you for your patience gentlemen, I just wanted to make sure that my peers were on the same page as I am." Ozpin said. "After a bit of debate and a brief call with Lieutenant Oswald, I can safely say that all four Huntsmen Academies will offer our support to your project."
"And we're happy to have you." Jorge said, his voice dry and professional. "I recognize that from an outsider's perspective, some of our actions may have been a bit questionable-"
Ozpin raised a hand to interrupt him. "Lieutenant Thomas has already explained your motivations, as well as what you hope to achieve. I will admit, outfitting every Huntsmen on Remnant with better ammunition was a very hard proposal to ignore."
Well, that's unexpectedly honest. Ben thought, noting the change in the Headmaster's demeanor. Whatever had changed, it was subtle, so much so that he didn't even notice it specifically. But the shift was there, and it made him a bit uneasy. Jorge seemed to notice something as well, as it clearly influenced his next words.
"Humanity is going to need better equipment if we're going to stay alive on this planet. Ammunition is just the start of that, I hope you realize." Jorge stated, his voice firm and unflinching.
Ozpin nodded, although he looked uncertain as to what exactly Jorge was leading up to. "Of course, but I believe that with your help, we'll be able to achieve that."
"I certainly hope so, Headmaster." Jorge said. "You have read about what we recovered from the Schnee Dust Company Archives, right?"
"I'm afraid I have." Ozpin reluctantly answered. "They developed an entirely new type of Dust, but they discarded the invention in the name of profits."
"That one decision has likely cost your planet tens of thousands of lives, conservatively." Jorge stated. "So I would encourage you to keep in mind that we are not aiming to give just the Huntsmen Academies superior ammunition, we are aiming to deliver this upgrade universally."
To his credit, Ozpin stood his ground very well. "I am well aware of that, Lieutenant. I've ensured that I am completely aware of everything that our agreement entails, and I have agreed with the terms you have given me."
"Good, I just wanted to make sure you were aware of that." Jorge said.
"There was one last thing, before you go." Ozpin said. "Lieutenant Oswald asked that I tell you to contact him when you were done speaking with me."
"Understood." Jorge answered. "Was that all you had to say, Headmaster?"
He adjusted his glasses and took one last look at the Spartans. "I believe so, Lieutenant. Take care on the trip back home, the Grimm can be smarter than you think."
"We'll certainly keep that in mind." Jorge said. "Come along Sergeant."
One annoying elevator ride and a short walk saw the Spartans arriving back at the Darter. They quickly brought Fireball and her co-pilot up to speed and joined them in the cockpit to contact Thomas.
"You should be good to go Sir." Fireball said, patching the transmission through to Jorge's helmet.
"Dominion, this is Onyx Actual, do you read?" Jorge asked, double-checking the connection.
"I read you loud and clear." Thomas confirmed, his voice giving off the impression of frustration even without being able to see his body language. "Bring me up to speed, is Ozpin with us?"
"All four Huntsmen Academies have signed off on the terms you prepared for them." Jorge relayed.
Thomas gave a sigh of relief. "Finally, some good news. But I'm afraid I need you back aboard the Dominion ASAP. As soon as I've issued my orders for Curie and Sergeant Benjamin, you are to return at best speed."
"Aye Sir." Jorge confirmed. "Was that all you had for me?"
"Yes, now Sergeant, I have a very critical assignment for you." Thomas stated.
Finally, back to the fight. Ben thought, happy to not be sitting on his hands anymore. "I'm all ears, Sir."
"Curie's presence is required to oversee the development of Remnant's new ballistic propellant, I need you to stay at Beacon and provide her with security and assistance." Thomas said. "Whatever she needs, make sure it happens, do you understand?"
Ben frowned, that couldn't be right. "Repeat your last, Sir?"
Thomas repeated himself, with an added tone of annoyance. "Did you catch that, Sergeant?"
He's serious. Ben realized with a hint of annoyance of his own, it looked like he would be staying at Beacon after all. But regardless of how he felt about the assignment, it was not his place to question a direct order. "Loud and clear, Sir."
"I am going to require some material and equipment from the Dominion to begin my experiments." Curie interjected on their exchange. "I will need to perform trials as to what exact mixture is going to work best."
"Resupply flights will carry whatever you need, but right now, your orders are to work with the Headmaster to begin modernizing their on-site Dust Laboratory." Thomas instructed. "Please try to show the Professors some courtesy, this is a university as much as it is a boot-camp."
"I shall be as polite as I can be." Curie pointedly replied. "For now, I will see what we have to work with here, and send requests for anything else."
"Good." Thomas said. "Sergeant, there should be a field telephone somewhere in the Darter's cargo compartment. Take it and do not let it out of your sight, under any circumstances. Arm the remote self-destruct and have Curie detonate it if you lose it, we'll be in touch."
Ben understood the added caution, losing a field telephone on Remnant could have potentially disastrous consequences. The hardware alone was more powerful than any supercomputer on Remnant, but the real danger was in the software. Any skilled technician would likely be able to form their own encryption from it, and while they wouldn't be able to read any of the UNSC's transmissions, the UNSC would lose their intelligence advantage. "Yes Sir. Do you have any further remarks?"
"...Try not to piss off the Headmaster, or the locals or... just lay low and do your job." Thomas said. "Dominion out."
In that moment, Ben understood that Thomas also recognized the sheer lunacy of assigning a Spartan away from the frontline. While Ben certainly understood that Curie was needed for the project, and he had standing orders to protect her, surely she could perform her duties remotely?
Jorge looked to him with a bit of sympathy, he understood how Ben felt probably better than anyone else on Remnant. "Well Sergeant, you have your orders."
"Yes Sir." Ben dryly replied, before descending the ladder into the cargo hold.
"Hey, don't be so discouraged! This could be fun!" Curie said, seemingly taken a bit off guard by his reluctance to stay behind. "Besides, it's been quite some time since we've had a chance to talk to one another."
"That's certainly true." Ben replied as he grabbed the field telephone and dismounted the Darter. "Although we'll probably be keeping busy."
He felt an uncomfortable pit in his stomach as the spacecraft flew away, something he hadn't felt about his orders since his first year of training. It wasn't a feeling of fear or dread, but wariness about the unknown. Beacon felt just as much like a minefield as the actual simulated ones that he had cleared during training.
Salem's Castle
October 11th, 0023 local time, 2552
Controlling the Grimm was not something that Doctor Watts could do, that ability lay solely on Salem's shoulders. Her plans in Atlas had already been in limited scope, so recalling the Grimm that she had coerced into areas around the floating city was the only major strategic motion to be made. A small part of Watts was happy to have the Grimm away from his former home, but it was a small, insignificant and irrational part of his brain. Atlas was no home to him anymore, they had made sure of that.
Although if he was being honest with himself, he was uncomfortable with the idea of controlling Grimm. He had seen what that desire for control had done to a former colleague of his, and he worried that Salem may follow the same path as that man. But his personal worries and thoughts were of secondary importance to his work, but that was something he had never had a problem with.
I'm just glad somebody appreciates my talents! Watts thought. Working for Salem wasn't perfect by any means, but it was light-years better than working under Ironwood.
His specialties were far more subtle in nature. While Salem tended to manipulate people directly, he preferred to do so in a more non-linear fashion. Rather than telling a person something, it was sometimes more powerful to plant a seed of doubt in their minds, and the CCTS was the perfect tool with which to do it. He could manipulate what millions of people saw on a daily basis, a power any world leader would make good use of, let alone a professional scientist like himself.
Salem had long preferred a more subtle approach to accomplishing her goals, ironically a direct contrast to how she preferred to deal with people. She was intelligent, and she knew that a direct battle to storm any of the Kingdoms wouldn't get her any of the Relics she was looking for. Instead, she would weaken the Kingdoms and erode Ozpin's defenses, opening the way for a more surgical infiltration to steal the relics, all while looking for the Maidens with which to open them. Watts filled a very important part in both goals, as his technical knowledge became all the more relevant every day.
Remnant was very slow to adapt computer technology, even Atlas showed sluggishness in utilizing the latest advances, which was something that he exploited as far as he could. Slow technological advancement and a dreadful public education system meant that most of Atlas still barely understood the concept of hacking, let alone how easy it had become in the modern age. The other Kingdoms were even less knowledgeable on the subject, and Menagerie had only recently become reconnected to the system at all, making them an easy target.
One computer worked slowly, so he had long since distributed programs that sapped the processing power of other poorly-protected systems for his own use. Menagerie becoming connected so suddenly meant that he was able to add a good deal of extra computational ability to his arsenal. While it was hardly a significant contribution, it was something he hadn't anticipated to have.
Currently, he had two major programs running across his systems, each designed to address a major concern. The first was the ongoing propaganda influx designed to goad the UNSC and Atlas against one another, which appeared to have some effect on the general populace. But it would only have limited effectiveness without some physical evidence backing up his false claims about the UNSC's true intentions, and the Atlesian Server Admins were beginning to recognize the patterns of his web-crawlers, forcing him to adapt them with unproven code.
Atlas was fairly easy to get stirred up, he knew from personal experience that the Atlesian Elite would choose the ability to complain and bicker over the ability to breathe if pressed to pick one. The other Kingdoms, however, had less pronounced social issues, and that made manipulating them far more difficult. Menagerie proved to be an unexpected thorn in Watt's side, as it seemed like the UNSC was quite popular with the public.
The difference in perspective is quite interesting, and solid evidence I'm doing well. Watts thought.
The best example so far was a pair of headlines from two articles, one from Menagerie and the other from Atlas. They both described the same event, albeit in far different terms. The Atlesian article talked about how the UNSC had kidnapped three-hundred civilians, and the Menagerie article talked about how the UNSC had rescued three-hundred slaves from SDC custody. A little bit of search-engine manipulation and he was able to make everything that opposed the UNSC appear front and center on the webpages of every Atlesian Citizen.
The second task he was working on, and in his mind, the far more important one, was to experiment with the obviously alien encryption systems that he had acquired from Headmaster Lionheart. Ironwood was clearly being careful with distributing the software, but he only needed to make one single mistake to collapse the effectiveness of his plan. Unfortunately for Watts, there was nothing he could do to stop Atlas from upgrading to the alien systems, and the now-reinforced cyberdefenses of Atlas would likely prove uncrackable unless he could develop a way to counter the alien systems.
Now, let's see how this works. Watts thought, finally completing the download of the data from Mistral. It was a truly goliath file, capable of filling four and half Scrolls to their maximum storage limits, and even then it was heavily compressed. Well, for starters, it seems they probably have better hard drives.
Upon examination, it seemed that the encryption algorithms themselves were surprisingly simple, given their incredible capabilities. By Remnant's standards, the defenses were completely fool-proof, he could chip away at it for a thousand years and come no closer to penetrating the defenses of the software. Watts had to admit, it was some extremely impressive stuff.
One thing he couldn't determine was whether or not the aliens had left a backdoor in the program for their own clandestine use, which left him with some doubts as to its true infallibility. Still, implementing the system for his own use was an easy decision, as it left the UNSC as the only potential party who could breach his systems. Any other of their enemies on Remnant, notably Ozpin and his goons, would have no chance at penetrating his systems.
I just have to lay a low profile, I do not want to know what kind of intrusion software they have aboard that starship of theirs. Watts thought, keeping in mind what he knew about the aliens.
He had kept a very close eye on the hacking attacks launched by the UNSC against the SDC, and they were truly terrifying. It added another piece of evidence to his theory that they employed A.I in some major capacity, as no single human would be able to perform so many strikes at the same time, and with such a small margin for error. Wherever the UNSC had come from, they weren't just used to Cyberwarfare, they had mastered it.
It became increasingly apparent to him as he looked at the source code that this was something that he was never truly going to be able to effectively fight. Cyberwarfare had for years been a developing field on Remnant, but the UNSC had accelerated it to the umpteenth degree. Watts frowned and closed the window, he had seen enough.
"Well, that puts a damper on things." Watts said to himself, more frustrated than anything.
Months of work had gone into perfecting the Black Queen Virus, and it was now faced with becoming obsolete overnight. Salem already had to adjust her plans, but now, she would have less options. If Watts was going to keep his job, and potentially his life, he would need something that changed the field of battle in their favor.
"If one solution doesn't solve your problem... try another." He muttered to himself, looking across his various half-completed projects for something that might be able to help. Finally, his eyes rested upon a long-deceased robotic predecessor to the Atlesian Paladin, and his genius mind granted him another boon. "...Yes, that will work."
Beacon Academy, Dust Laboratory
October 11th, 1532 local time, 2552
It suddenly made a lot more sense as to why Beacon had such an extensive chemistry lab once Ben realized the true purpose of the building. It did not serve in any true capacity as a classroom, but rather an ammunition production facility. Almost every Huntsman or Huntress used Dust in their weapons, so having the facilities on hand to reform or modify the different kinds of Dust made quite a lot of sense. It seemed that most students already knew how to create their own ammo long before they came to Beacon, which gave him and Curie a bit more insight into their training.
The building itself was positioned on the outskirts of the Campus, likely as a safety measure. It wasn't all that dissimilar to the chemical labs back at Camp Currahee, where he and his fellow Cadets had learned how to operate explosives and in some limited cases, even create them. Sadly, it seemed like the lab would need some serious safety upgrades to handle even rudimentary plastic explosives, it was clearly designed around handling Dust.
At least it can handle the powder we're using for this stuff. Ben thought, noting how Curie was still listing off all of the different things that they would need to do in order to produce the new type of gunpowder. It seems like the biggest thing we're going to need is a proper bunsen burner, or maybe just a hydrogen torch.
Several other students were making use of the equipment, but they all gave him and Curie a wide, nervous berth, which he respected. There was however, one notable exception, the girl with the red cape from earlier, who was trying and failing to sneakily get a better look at him. Now that she was closer, he was able to make out more of her features, like how she seemed to prefer combat boots over traditional shoes.
That's certainly more respectable than the poor bastard who chose to wear high heels into battle. Ben thought. Curie had actually had to explain the decorative shoes to him, as he had never seen such bizarrely impractical footwear before. They'll probably get what they deserve, the battlefield is not a fashion contest.
Ben personally placed very little importance on someone's personal appearance, so the thing that stood out the most to him about the girl was how young she was. She couldn't be much older than he was, although, without the augmentations of a Spartan, she actually looked her age.
So maybe there are some kids like me here. Ben thought, thinking back to his earlier speculation about the Huntsman Academies. How many kids here have grievous scars and dead loved ones? When do they even start their training?
She was very bad at subtly catching glimpses of him as he worked. To her credit, she tried to conceal her true intentions in her work, but it was very clear that she just wanted a better look at him. At first, Ben tolerated the curious gazes, a degree of curiosity was healthy, but now it was starting to become uncomfortable. It was especially concerning how she looked at his sidearm, with an expression of unconcealed hunger and what Ben could only guess was affection.
"Ben, calm down, she's not going to shoot you." Curie privately told him, her tone giving the impression that she was utterly exasperated. "Or are you just afraid of teenage girls now?"
"It's not her I'm worried about, it's this whole school." Ben replied, although she certainly wasn't helping his paranoia.
"What is so bad about it?" Curie asked. "I think it is quite nice, I was getting very tired of looking at titanium corridors. Not to mention that you could really do with some time away from your duties."
Before he could even answer, flashes of all of the terrible things he'd seen on Remnant appeared before his eyes. It was a gruesome reminder that sitting out his duties was not an option. "No, I can't just ignore my assigned duties."
"Well, I certainly recognize that." Curie said. "But you seem to be under the impression that you have somewhere else that you need to be."
"I should be in Solitas, killing whatever's left of the SDC." Ben said. "Deploying a Spartan to act as a chemist is a dramatic waste of resources."
"Is that right?" Curie asked. "You're not here to act as a chemist, you're here to make sure that nobody interferes with my work."
Ben placed the Dust he was holding back onto the table, he didn't want to be distracted while holding a volatile compound. "Well that's a low-risk assignment, Spartans aren't meant to be sent on easy missions."
"If Commander Richard had a better use for you, you would be there and not here." Curie pointed out. "Do you really have so little faith in the man? He practically raised you!"
"Everyone's prone to bad decisions, even the best of us." Ben argued. "I trust Richard with my life, but that doesn't mean he's infallible."
He's told me enough about his past service to put that together. Ben thought. Still, he's a hell of a friend.
"I don't think you realize just how much you're straining yourself." Curie said, apparently abandoning her previous argument.
"I'm a Spartan, we don't get strained." Ben argued.
"You are a human, yes you do." Curie calmly replied. "Please, just…. give Beacon a chance, would you? If not for yourself, then do it for me."
Ben gave a deep sigh, an argument with Curie really was unwinnable. "Fine. What is it you'd like me to do?"
"Well for starters, that young woman clearly has a few questions." Curie said. Ben realized that the girl who was watching him had moved one station closer. "It would be the least we could do to answer them."
Ben shook his head slightly. "We have work to do."
"Work that we cannot do until Command sees fit to deliver the materials I have requested." Curie countered. "Besides, maybe she could offer us some assistance. If her personnel file is any indicator, she has plenty of experience with firearms."
"You think the teenage girl is going to be able to help us develop the most powerful propellant that Remnant has ever seen?" Ben asked. He trusted Curie's judgement, but he had clearly lost some crucial piece of information while talking to her. "Wait… you pulled her file?"
"Teenage boys in powered armor shouldn't be making presumptuous arguments." Curie pointedly argued, ignoring his question. "She has undergone a similar set of training to you, albeit considerably less... effective."
Yeah, brutal doesn't seem like the right word. They might not run the callisthenics as hard out here, but I never got told to fight demons with nothing but a smile and the clothes on my back. Ben thought, recalling a bulletin board which mentioned hand-to-hand combat classes against live Grimm, which were apparently rather popular amongst the students. "So, what do you want me to do?"
"Say hello." Curie simply answered. Ben looked over his shoulder, catching her looking at him once again, which she seemed slightly ashamed of.
Ben let out a sigh and switched on his helmet's microphone. "You know, you can just ask."
She gave a faint sound of panic after he spoke, before the impact of his words reached her brain. "Wait... really?"
"Of course." Ben said, ignoring his doubts and trying to give the young woman a chance to say what it was that she wanted to say. As it turned out, she had plenty to say.
The subsequent bombardment of questions and enthusiastic statements was so thick that it was almost meaningless. Curie privately laughed as Ben struggled to deal with the incredibly awkward situation that he'd managed to find himself in. She asked about his armor, his weapon, his visor, his headlamps, and a multitude more things.
If she asks me if I've ever killed anyone, I'm done with this. Ben thought, with a hint of annoyance.
"Stop." Ben interrupted, causing her to pause mid-sentence. "Take a deep breath, and start from the beginning again, slowly."
She took a very deep breath. "I uh, sorry. I get a little carried away sometimes."
"Don't we all." Ben offered her an out for the awkward first impression. "What's your name?"
"Ruby, Ruby Rose." She said. "Are you an alien?"
"Don't you think that might be considered a rude question?" Ben asked, causing her to pout slightly. "Relax, I'm only joking. I'm a human, but I have met aliens before."
Her silver eyes lit up with excitement. "I knew it! You're one of those... uh... united something space command people!"
"United Nations Space Command, specifically the military branch." Ben said, helping her string together the thought. "I'm Sergeant Benjamin, and I'm here with my partner to develop a new kind of propellant in conjunction with the Huntsman Academies."
I feel like an Army recruiter. Ben thought.
"Your... partner?" Ruby asked doubtfully, having long since noticed that he was alone. "Where is he?"
"She's right here." Ben answered, withdrawing Curie's datachip and letting her display her hologram on the table.
"Hello Madame Rose, I am Curie. I am-" Curie began, but was subsequently bombarded by another volley of questions for Ruby.
Ben gave a quiet chuckle at his petty revenge as Curie awkwardly tried to answer every single one of the girls' questions, but it was a losing fight. Ruby did seem to immediately grasp the concept that Curie was an A.I, which was more than most natives of Remnant had done.
"Wait, hold on!" Ruby said, suddenly bringing herself to a pause. "You said you're developing... propellant?"
"Ballistic propellant, specifically a combination of Dust and smokeless gunpowder." Ben answered. "Curie thinks that we can use this to help alleviate your planet's reliance on Dust, and give your weapons an upgrade in the process."
"Dust has extremely prohibitive costs and ballistic properties, it is a terrible form of propelling ammunition." Curie added. "We hope to retain the unique elemental abilities, such as manipulating gravity and encasing your target in ice."
I still can't believe you can do that. Ben thought. I wonder what Lieutenant Ambrose would do if I handed him a bullet that made people float away.
"That... sounds... awesome!" Ruby enthusiastically said. "Can I help?!"
"Sure, do you have an industrial-grade fusion torch I can borrow?" Ben jokingly asked, although it appeared that the joke went over her head. "That was a joke, realistically, we can't really do anything until we get some supplies delivered from our ship."
"Oh." Ruby said, clearly disappointed. "Well, maybe I could show you around Beacon? I'm sure you have all sorts of questions!"
I've never seen someone rebound from a look of dejection so quickly. Ben thought.
"I do not see what other task we have that would take precedence over that." Curie replied.
"We could familiarize ourselves with Beacon's equipment." Ben suggested. Curie seemed to disapprove, but Ruby seemed elated.
"Absolutely! Here, let me go get some safety goggles!" Ruby said, before she did something that caught Ben very off-guard. She seemingly exploded into a floating cloud of flower petals, before that cloud flew away at such a speed that he had trouble tracking it even with the advantage of Spartan Time.
As Ben examined the trail of flower petals that she left behind, Curie noticed how confused he was. "That is Miss Roses Semblance."
"I... see." Ben said, trying to fight off his ever-growing headache. "So uh, when do I learn how to do that?"
"Presumably never, everyone has a unique Semblance. I have been monitoring everyone aboard the Dominion, and so far, I have only discovered the Semblance of one Marine." Curie explained. "You will simply have to wait until yours makes itself apparent."
Ben let out a silent sigh of relief, he preferred his body to be one single piece, preferably encased in armor. "Well, I guess that I'll keep my eyes peeled."
Ruby returned shortly after he was done speaking, now wearing a set of oversized goggles. "Ready!"
"What's the point of protective eyewear if you Aura absorbs any damage?" Ben asked.
Ruby awkwardly scratched the back of her head. "Well, just because your eyes aren't actually getting hurt, doesn't mean it's not painful, ya' know?"
Ben, in fact, did not know that, but it was a valuable piece of information to digest. "I think I understand."
"Good, then let's get to work!" Ruby said.
Author's notes: I just want to briefly address some concerns that some readers will inevitably have in advance. I have no intentions of falling into the stagnant stereotypes typical of some Halo/RWBY crossovers. The Men From Onyx is something I am proud to say is unique from its peers, not just in the areas it explores, but in how it focuses on larger scale conflicts that affect a broader amount of people.
That being said, I would encourage you to remember that you are reading a Halo/RWBY crossover, and it wouldn't be much of a crossover without featuring the main cast in any sort of role.