Beacon Academy, Headmaster Ozpin's Office

October 17th, 0922 Local Time, 2552

The students of Beacon Academy had been extra busy for the past few days. Even though the most recent news from Argus had been positive, there was still a notable surge in negative emotions throughout Vale and its outlying Villages, and Ozpin knew that the other Huntsmen Academies were also feeling the strain. As such, his students were deployed to missions in the field, most commonly under the guidance of more experienced, graduated Huntsmen, helping to combat the encroaching packs of Grimm.

There was nothing that could really be done to avoid the surge of Grimm. Censoring the news outright tended to create even more negative emotions in the long-term through political conflict, and there really wasn't a way to spin a battle as a good thing, no matter how good the results had been. The only thing that could be done was to keep the Grimm away from any settlements until everyone calmed down.

Ozpin had paid very close attention not just to the news, but also to what details were omitted from the broadcasts. Practically all of Remnant's media organizations tended to leave certain elements of their stories unsaid, and that meant he would need to look into those details himself. Thankfully, some of his close friends and allies, such as Qrow, tended to make that job a lot easier. However, some important information could be deduced just by watching the news.

"-rescue efforts have largely been concluded, although a specific death toll has yet to be announced. Major Garrett of the Atlesian Specialists has said that there are still many people in critical condition, and as such, they do not yet want to draw any conclusions. UNSC officials have declined to comment on the matter entirely."

Ozpin paused the Vale News Network broadcast and rewound it slightly. He was almost certain as to what the anchorwoman had said, but he had to be sure. He listened to her speak again, and let out a sigh of exhaustion at her words.

The losses from the fighting had been one of his biggest concerns, and the UNSC's decision not to even acknowledge the question only reinforced his fears. Ozpin hadn't yet discussed the matter with General Ironwood, and he hadn't even spoken with Commander Richard since the battle had taken place. If Salem's intention was to wound the UNSC or Atlas, she had certainly succeeded, although neither force seemed to be entirely crippled.

What did Salem hope to gain from this? Ozpin wondered. She's always sought to divide Humanity first, then conquer us. Why would she make martyrs out of the UNSC and Atlas?

The door to the elevator pinged, and he wasn't surprised to see Glynda walk out, the cameras having warned him of her impending arrival. He closed the news broadcast that he had open, as she likely had something important to discuss or report that would require his attention.

"Good morning Glynda. Any news from our students?" Ozpin asked.

Her typical frown did not waver as she answered. "Team CRDL very nearly got themselves killed when they tried to fight a Goliath. Thankfully Oobleck was able to rescue them, barely."

"A Goliath?" Ozpin asked. It was unusual to hear of such a large and powerful Grimm attacking on its own. Perhaps the Grimm were more out of control than he had realized. "Were they able to kill it?"

"What do you think?" Glynda asked, the bitter tone in her voice making it all the more clear what the answer was. "I'm not here to discuss the students."

Ozpin straightened up his posture. "Go on."

"The Council is going to vote on postponing the Vytal Festival, they think it's too dangerous to move the Colosseum with the Grimm Activity so high." Glynda said, her voice practically seething with frustration.

Ozpin paused for a sip of hot chocolate as he digested her words. "I see."

"Let me guess, they didn't bother consulting the head of the local Huntsmen Academy?" Glynda asked, and his silence was all the answer she needed. "Unbelievable, the nerve of those people-"

"Perhaps they have a point, Glynda." Ozpin interrupted her.

She glared out of the window at the City Hall in the distance. "Don't tell me that you agree with them? The Grimm will have calmed down by the end of the week, this is hardly a reason to postpone such a significant event! If anything, it's only likely to cause more panic when people start thinking that we can't handle the Grimm!"

"The Council is interested in keeping the people of Vale safe, as they should be." Ozpin pointed out. "The Grimm are already acting more aggressive than normal, we don't want Salem getting a chance to make things even worse with the Festival coming so soon."

Glynda looked back towards him with a somewhat fearful expression. "So, you think she's behind the attack at Argus?"

"I'm certain of it." Ozpin answered. "The Grimm haven't attacked with forces of that size since the Great War, and even with people uncertain about the motives of the UNSC, the Grimm wouldn't have concentrated into a single area on their own."

"What do you think she wanted from Argus?" Glynda asked.

Ozpin briefly considered lying to reassure her that he was in control of the situation, but decided that Glynda would need to know the truth. "I can't say, but I'm afraid she achieved her goal, whatever it was."

"So the great victory that everyone is praising was a loss." Glynda summarized, her voice sounding slightly exacerbated. "So you want to postpone the Festival, wait for a safer time."

"The Vytal Festival is very important, but not so important that we can't afford to hold it off for a few months." Ozpin said. "Vale's safety is our top priority, for more reasons than the obvious."

"What do you mean?" Glynda asked.

He glanced down into his mug for a brief moment. "The delay will afford us a rare opportunity to deal with the… problems that have been growing under our noses."

Glynda nodded with understanding at the subtext of his statement. "The Council still should have consulted you."

"They certainly should have, and I will be discussing that with them before we leave for Vytal." Ozpin said. He could already predict the excuses that the Councilmen would make, hopefully he would be able to convince them that they could trust the Huntsmen Academies. Thankfully, they were in unanimous agreement about attending the diplomatic conference with the UNSC.

"Have you managed to negotiate a date for the conference yet?" Glynda asked.

"I'm afraid that's been something of a point of contention." Ozpin answered. "The Council from Mistral still wants more time to prepare, and I believe that after the Battle of Argus, the UNSC will want some time to secure the city before they'll be able to host the conference."

Glynda raised an eyebrow. "Vytal is neutral ground, why would the UNSC be the hosts?"

"They'll be providing transport for most of the delegates, and I believe Lieutenant Oswald mentioned a Starfighter Escort for the journey over international waters. A few notable Huntsmen and Atlas will be filling in for the rest of the security." Ozpin elaborated. "Imagine that Glynda, genuine Starfighters on Remnant. It's almost hard to believe, isn't it?" He'd long since given up on the idea.

She gave a faint nod. "I feel the same way. It's just hard to comprehend, we really aren't alone in the universe."

Ozpin stood up and joined her by the window, taking his mug with him as he stared out at Vale. "We certainly aren't. I suppose we should count our blessings, if what the UNSC says about the Covenant is true, and I have no reason to doubt it isn't, we could have easily had a worse first experience with extraterrestrial life."

"I don't doubt that…" Glynda quietly replied. She'd heard the same rumors that he had, and unlike her, he knew that the Covenant's genocidal campaign of burning entire planets had certainly happened.

Perhaps it's best if they stay a rumor, another mass panic would be disastrous. Ozpin thought. He would certainly need to discuss that with Commander Richard at the conference.

Even though she didn't show any signs of discomfort, Ozpin knew her well enough that he could guess when something was bothering her. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing major." Glynda was quick to answer, confirming that his suspicion had been correct. "Doctor Oobleck mentioned earlier that it was very unlikely that Humanity would naturally develop twice, and he wondered if perhaps there was some connection between Remnant and the UNSC's planets."

"There isn't." Ozpin pointed out. He knew the true origins of Humanity, as well as it's rebirth, better than anyone else on Remnant did. Glynda obviously didn't know everything, he'd grown wary of sharing the whole truth with other people, but he had told her enough that she knew about the gods that created Humanity.

"Well, that's what is bothering me." Glynda stated. "If we know where life on Remnant came from, and Humanity has never left Remnant… where did the UNSC come from?"

He considered how to answer for just a moment. He could make something up to ease her mind, it certainly wouldn't be the first time that he had done that exact thing, but eventually, he decided that perhaps honesty was the best response. "I haven't the faintest idea."

Argus Outskirts, Ruins of Labrador Farms

October 17th, 1341 Local Time, 2552

Margaret "Mags" Jackson was not a stranger to combat, far from it in fact. From her earliest days of training at Beacon Academy, all the way up to her more recent clashes with the gigantic Grimm that swam in the waters of Menagerie, she had fought in more fights than she could reasonably be asked to count. Even despite her ample experience, she found the aftermath of the Battle of Argus to be unlike anything she had ever seen.

Labrador Farms hadn't been all that far away from Argus, in fact, the city's walls were barely visible in the distance. It had been comprised of a modest two-story farmhouse, two barns, acres of crop fields, and a personal vegetable garden.

It had been, not anymore.

As Mags stood upon the balcony of the eerily empty and practically destroyed farmhouse, she silently took in the sights around her. The farmland had been turned into a hellscape that was barely recognizable to what it was. Fields of recently-harvested corn stalks and other crops had been ravaged once by the Grimm during the early stages of the battle and then they had been torn apart once more as the UNSC Dominion had shelled the Grimm in the area into oblivion.

It was one thing to hear the words 'orbital bombardment' in anything other than a science-fiction movie, it was entirely another to look at the craters left behind. There were hundreds of them scattered all around her, a few of which were even larger than the empty farmhouse that she was standing inside. It didn't help that it had been raining for the past few hours, turning all of the soil to mud and the deepest of the craters into ponds. Normally she loved the rain, but in this one case, it only seemed to make things more miserable.

Apparently, a violent firestorm had erupted at some point during the bombing, but the only evidence that it had ever happened was the abundance of ash that blackened the mud and the growing puddles. It was like a world she would see in her nightmares, and yet here she stood.

If there was anything that disturbed her more than imagining what must have happened to the farmers who had once lived here, it was the jaded and unblinking expressions of the Marines who now patrolled it. She had noticed the warning signs during the battle itself, how some of the UNSC's soldiers didn't even cry out as they were killed, or how they fought in a brutally straightforward and ruthless manner, but she hadn't dared assume the worst.

This is just another day for them. This is what their homes look like, what their lives must be like... Mags realized. She didn't even feel the horror that she had expected, making her wonder if perhaps she was growing used to it.

"I take it that this was your first battle?" A familiar accented voice said from behind her. She turned to see Lieutenant Jorge approaching, he had his helmet removed and held it cradled in his arm, and rather than look at the landscape beyond, he looked squarely at her.

"...Far from it." Mags replied, although it took her a moment to find her voice. "I'm no stranger to a good fight."

"Not a fight Mags, a battle, grand-scale combat." Jorge softly replied as he joined her on the balcony. "I get that you aren't a soldier, so don't feel ashamed, not being used to this."

Mags sighed deeply. "Okay, you've got me, I ain't used to this. I've seen action before, big scuffles to be sure…"

She took a deep breath as she tried to keep herself under control. "...just, not this."

Jorge gave her a nod of sympathy. "It seems like this was the first large battle you've all had in awhile. My advice, try not to think about what you lost, think about what you've saved, who you've helped."

Mags took a moment to collect her thoughts before she replied. "Thanks Jorge."

"Anytime ma'am." Jorge humbly replied. "I've been in your boots before, but I had a good leader to help me through it all, more than one, in fact."

"Yeah, about that…" Mags raised a finger as she tried to put words to her thoughts. "Is that what all of your battles are like, with the Covenant?"

Jorge didn't reply for a moment, before he gave a quiet, reluctant answer. "I'm afraid so ma'am, but usually we don't get to stick around and look at what remains. Once the Navy gets beaten back, we either make it off of the planet… or we don't."

Mags couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him, she'd learned enough about the concept of Glassing to understand what he was insinuating. "I'm sorry. I can't even imagine what that's like, losing your homes like that."

Jorge visibly tensed up for a moment, and Mags was momentarily worried that she had somehow offended the man. When he did respond, he didn't look her in the eye, and his voice was unusually solemn. "It's hard, but we'll turn the war around… one day."

The doubt in his voice was very clear, which momentarily caught her off-guard. "You saved Argus. If you can win here, then you can win back on your planets."

"I appreciate the sentiment." Jorge nodded gratefully at her words, but she could tell he didn't truly believe them. "But we would have to find a way home first."

Mags looked back towards Argus, where she could see the outlines of the Atlesian Cruisers and the larger Battleships in the sky, accompanied by the massive frame of the Dominion. It was almost poetic, seeing the massive vessels from so far away, but she could still make out which ship was which. "Any word on when that's gonna be?"

"No idea ma'am, but we're working on it." Jorge answered. "Until then, we'll just do our jobs here on Remnant."

Mags shot him a grateful smile. "We're happy to have you Lieutenant."

"Likewise." Jorge replied. "You all might be a bit unconventional, but nobody could deny you're good at what you do."

Mags solemnly remembered all of the Huntsmen and Huntresses who had died during the battle. None of them had been truly prepared for a mission, let alone a prolonged engagement against an Army of Grimm, and dozens of them had paid the ultimate price. "We could be better…"

"Yes, you could be." Jorge said, with a bluntness that she hadn't expected. "But you're not meant to be soldiers, your policemen, the distinction is important. If the Huntsmen were better soldiers, your people would not trust you nearly as much."

Mags paused and thought over his words. Jorge was entirely correct, but Mags wondered if he knew Remnant's history with that exact problem. "You know, one of the founding principles of the Huntsmen Academies was that they would be warriors of peace who served the people of Remnant no matter which banner they fell under. That way if there was another Great War, the Huntsmen wouldn't turn on the people of Remnant, because they held no allegiance to Kingdoms."

Jorge didn't respond for a moment, prompting Mags to continue. "You didn't know that, did you?"

"I didn't." Jorge admitted. "But now that you've told me, it makes a lot more sense why you all seem to dislike Specialist Schnee so much."

"Eh, for a stuck-up prick, she could be worse." Mags replied. When Jorge turned to her with a faint look of perplexity, she elaborated further. "She does her job just fine, and stays out of my way. That's more than I can say for the rest of her wretched family. Nice work kicking their asses by the way, did more for the Faunus with that than the White Fang ever did."

Jorge nodded. "We're happy to help. We have an uncomfortable history with slavery ourselves, so I understand why the Commander decided we had to intervene."

A stray realization found its way to her mind. "Do you normally fight other Humans back home?"

Jorge shook his head. "Not anymore. Early in my career I did a lot of counter-terror ops, but nowadays we have a ceasefire with the Insurrectionists so that we can focus on the Covenant. Most of the other Marines probably didn't see action against Humans before we touched down on Remnant, but I couldn't say for certain."

Mags sighed deeply. "I wish I could say I hadn't fought Humans before."

Jorge gave her a sympathetic look. "We've all got our regrets."

The Spartan gently placed his helmet back onto his head and looked down at the ground beneath them. In the front yard of the Farmhouse, a small squad of UNSC Marines were setting up some kind of device into the ground, under the guidance of Sergeant Benjamin.

"I should go help them with that. Sensor Pylons can be a bit… unhelpful." Jorge said. "We'll be heading out in a few minutes, be ready to head out by then."

Mags gave him a nod. "I'll be right behind you."

While Jorge went back downstairs to help his comrades, Mags took one last look out at the carnage in the distance.

How are these people meant to rebuild from this? She briefly wondered. But it was evident she wouldn't find an answer, so she retrieved Tasman and her Captain's hat, and went downstairs to rejoin the squad.

UNSC Dominion, Bridge

October 17th, 1423 Local Time, 2552

Even with the battle over and much of the rubble cleared, Argus was still an absolute mess. The citizens had returned to their homes and workplaces in an attempt to resume their normal lives, but Richard strongly doubted that their harrowing experiences would ever truly be forgotten. Even when the scars of war were swept from the streets and buildings, the people who lived in Argus would never see their lives in the same way again.

It's just something that they'll have to live with. Richard solemnly thought. Perhaps it's a good thing, in a terrible sort of way. A reminder that life is precious, and that we can't afford to roll over and give up.

He sighed at his foolhardy attempts to find any hint of positivity in what was objectively a terrible event, it seemed that particular bad habit of his wasn't going away anytime soon.

The Dominion was in a constant state of activity, as it had been for the last few days. Officers and crewmen milled about, passing along messages, reports, and orders. Lieutenant Bradford and Ensign Gillespie handled most of the day-to-day tasks when it came to the cleanup of Argus, leaving Richard to focus on the bigger picture. The Holotable was undoubtedly his most effective tool in that regard, with it currently displaying a large strategic map of everything within a fifty-kilometer radius of Argus.

Small unit indicators were scattered all throughout the area outside of the city, most of which were either acting as recon, or were helping the Huntsmen cull the last of the Grimm. The Dominion's combat engineers had also established Sensor Stations to offer a greater degree of warning in case the Grimm planned to return. Hopefully it would not be needed, but it never hurt to be prepared.

The Atlesian Military was also helping out every step of the way. Their Cruisers scoured the ocean around Argus in search of any seaborne Grimm that dared to get close, and the larger Battleships stayed in a defensive formation over Argus itself, offering a sense of security to the nervous residents of the city. The Dominion itself hovered gently over the surface outside of the city walls, using it's massive elevators to offload materials and men, before retrieving them once their tasks were completed.

Richard was beginning to understand that while the Atlesian Military certainly had its faults, its local expertise was not something that could be discounted. General Ironwood had been utterly indispensable in helping to coordinate the UNSC's efforts to fortify Argus, and not just in a grander, strategic sense. It seemed that General Ironwood shared Bradford's eye for the smaller, more nuanced elements of conducting military operations. Every once and awhile, Richard would briefly listen in on the conversations between the two, which were almost always related to combatting the Grimm.

"-a landmine is a controversial weapon to be sure, but it's effectiveness against the Grimm speaks for itself. If your engineers deploy them while feeling some kind of negative emotion, the Grimm can sense the negativity in the area, and will be drawn towards it." Ironwood said, to which Bradford seemed to respond with great interest.

That's… disturbing, actually. Richard thought, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He'd recognized that he had a lot to learn about fighting the Grimm, so he wasn't about to dismiss any tactic that Ironwood presented, so long as it got more of his people home safely.

Curie had finally completed her assessment of the battle, and while Richard had been very busy, he had made it a priority to read as much as he could whenever he got the chance. He was acutely aware that Curie was making personal sacrifices to keep him informed on the greater strategic situation, and he was not about to let them go to waste.

While the Grimm were the obvious focal point of the report, there were other areas of operation where the UNSC needed to improve, particularly when coordinating with Atlas. One of the major reasons Curie had been overwhelmed was the sheer volume of radio chatter coming and going from the CCTS during combat. While upgrading the capabilities of that particular element of Remnant's infrastructure was obviously a priority, it was also apparent that both the UNSC and Atlas needed to better establish how they would interact with one another. Thankfully, Ensign Gillespie and Lieutenant Chen were already hard at work solving that particular debacle.

But no amount of efficient communication would matter if the Grimm could coordinate just as effectively, and that was undoubtedly the most critical takeaway that Curie had gathered from the battle. Richard opened up the report on his datapad and looked at one of the segments that Curie had highlighted for him, as many times as he read it, he still had trouble grasping the words before him.

"Overwhelming evidence demonstrates that not only are the Grimm capable of strategic maneuver warfare, but that they have their own maneuver brigades, and a disturbing grasp of combined-arms warfare-"

Curie's words went on even further, speculating that powerful Grimm, such as the Leviathan that they had killed during the battle, could actually control and direct the actions of lesser Grimm. It was a terrifying theory, and one that underlined an even scarier truth.

The Grimm are intelligent, maybe even sentient. The realization had been hammered into him dozens of times during the battle, and an analysis of the Grimm's actions had only confirmed that conclusion. Fighting the Grimm would not be a cakewalk as he had anticipated, and it had been his erroneous assumptions, no, his arrogance, that had cost the lives of many of his men.

It would be easy for Richard to just blame himself and be miserable, but that was not what his men needed from him now. He'd learned the hard way that taking a position of command meant making hard choices, and even harder mistakes. The best thing that he could do was keep a stiff upper lip and keep moving forward, learning from his mistakes as he went. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and focused on where things had gone wrong.

Like with any battle, the UNSC had made dozens of strategic mistakes and tactical errors, which had been one of the leading contributions to their heavy losses. While underestimating the Grimm was undoubtedly Richard's biggest mistake, his second biggest mistake was not ordering a diagnostic be performed on the ship's subsystems before entering the battle, and the results were very nearly disastrous.

While normally the shipboard A.I would be responsible for such a task, Curie had been far too busy to do it herself, and for whatever reason, Richard had not thought to simply do it himself. It was a failure of basic protocol, and Richard was disturbed that such a simple error had occurred.

Normally it would only be a minor mistake to make, and water under the bridge, were it not for the fact that one of the Dominion's key systems had not been functioning properly, it's Radar Arrays. It was how the swarm of Lancer Grimm had managed to sneak up on the Dominion, which otherwise should have easily been able to detect such a large force of flying targets. Even worse, none of the automated systems meant to warn the crew that something was wrong had gone off, and the malfunction had not been discovered until after the battle had ended.

Deciding that perhaps it was time to address that particular topic, he walked over to the operations station. "Gillespie, did Engineering find out what's wrong with the Radar?" Richard asked.

The young officer turned to face him with a weary expression, one that was shared amongst practically the entire crew. "They think it was an electrical malfunction in the backup power supply, but until they can go EVA and look at it themselves, there's not much they can do about it."

Richard fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Is there some reason that they can't use the repair drones?"

"They're all still working on the Perseus Sir." Gillespie answered. "I can recall some of them if you'd like, but it'll slow their repair efforts over there pretty considerably. Apparently most Atlesian Drones are built for killing things, not fixing them."

Richard took a quick glance out of the front viewport at the aforementioned Atlesian Cruiser, it's blackened hull and shattered armor making it easy to identify. It was a miracle her crew had managed to save the Airship at all, let alone kept it aloft. Still, it was in stable condition now, making Richard's decision an easy one.

"They can handle it from here Ensign, we need to look after our own ship." Richard answered.

"Aye Sir, I'll bring them back over." Gillespie confirmed. "On the note of repairs, Engineering says they can't fix Battery Six without spare parts… which uh, we can't fabricate at the moment."

Terrific, we're down a turret for the foreseeable future. Richard grumpily thought. "Tell them to clean it up as best they can, we'll fix it when we can."

"Aye Sir." Gillespie replied.

With that particular problem on its way to being sorted out, Richard briefly turned his attention to Curie's report, before Ironwood called out to him. "Commander, could we have your attention for a moment?"

Richard joined them around one of the spare terminals, and noticed that they had some kind of criminal record brought up on the monitor. "What's the situation?"

"General Ironwood believes he has an identity on our assassin." Bradford answered, gesturing at the file on the screen. "His name is Tyrian Callows, wanted for murder, arson, grand theft, kidnapping… well, in short, if it's a crime, he's probably done it. Based off of Atlesian Intelligence, we think that he's probably an untreated psychopath with delusions of grandeur."

"Color me shocked." Richard sarcastically said. He wasn't at all surprised to hear that the man who had killed Commander Cordovin was an insane criminal. "No mugshots?"

"If we'd ever caught this guy, he wouldn't be a problem anymore. He's earned the death penalty five times over." Ironwood pointed out.

There was a seething anger in his voice, and Richard honestly didn't blame him, since he felt the same way. "So, we have our assassin, but what about the Radar Tower? Did we find the saboteur behind that?"

"The detectives think that was Tyrian as well. It matches his known methodology, and the autopsies on the soldiers present suggest that his blades and stinger were the murder weapons." Ironwood answered.

That's right, he has a goddamn scorpion tail. Richard fearfully thought, somehow that particular detail had managed to elude his memory. "One guy brought down the defenses of an entire city… any ideas for a motive?"

"He's a known serial killer, something like this isn't entirely out of his territory." Ironwood pointed out, although there was a fair degree of what Richard assumed to be doubt in his voice.

"Serial killing implies that he had specific targets, something of this scale had to have another motivation." Richard pointed out. "Does he have any known history with Argus?"

"There's nothing on his file to suggest he does." Bradford answered. "Goddamnit, how are we supposed to get a lead on his bastard if we don't even know what he wants?"

There was an awkward silence as they all thought over the question, before Ironwood finally spoke. "I can't say for certain, but I do know this, we cannot afford to let this get in the way of the Vytal Conference, if anything, it's all the more urgent now. We need a chance to reassure the people of Remnant, put some of their fears to rest."

Bradford and Richard exchanged a silent glance of dread, they both knew that some of the changes Richard would be proposing would be deeply controversial, even if they were ultimately necessary.

Ironwood has proven himself as a capable ally so far… but will that continue to be the case when we demand that he subvert his own country's legal system, even for the sake of prosecuting war criminals? Richard thought. "I agree, we aren't going to jeopardize our plans because of the actions of one madman."

"We'll need another day at absolute minimum to get Argus's defenses back online, and another three if we want to clear out the nearby Grimm." Bradford pointed out.

"We can handle the defense of Argus, especially once some of the outlying Huntsmen arrive." Ironwood said, his gaze drifting out of the front viewport and onto the sizable Atlesian Battleships that now floated through the air above Argus. "Without their leader helping them, the Grimm will be much easier to take down."

"So, the Leviathan was their leader?" Richard asked. He figured that it would be a good idea to double-check the validity of such a crucial detail. "We should've targeted it first…"

Ironwood reacted with a faint bit of subtle surprise, but his expression didn't waver. "I have to assume so, unless some other sizable Grimm was commanding them from the rear."

I wonder what that was about? Richard thought. It seemed like he was the only one who noticed just how touchy Ironwood was on that particular topic. Maybe it's just a sore spot for him, probably best to leave it be.

"That's good. We can use that time to get ourselves back into fighting shape." Richard replied.

"That is certainly important, but we should set out for Vytal as soon as possible, just to make sure everything's secure by the time the Delegates get there. Thomas said that the Island hosts a small settlement, but beyond that, it's all Grimm territory." Bradford suggested.

Richard briefly thought it over. "We could use a chance to score a real victory. So long as the Grimm don't have a leader this time around, we should be able to take them out."

In spite of his words, he could feel the lack of confidence in his voice. He knew as well as anyone else that if the UNSC were forced to fight another battle like they had at Argus, they would likely lose much of their capability to respond to any further crises on Remnant, Grimm or otherwise.

"Lieutenant Clark is out of action, who will lead the Marines?" Bradford asked.

"Jorge." Richard answered without hesitation. "He did exceptionally during the battle, he can handle the responsibility."

"I can also task a team of Specialists to accompany you. With Argus in a safer state, I think I can afford to part with the Ace-Ops for a few days." Ironwood offered.

"We'd be happy to have them." Richard replied. He wasn't about to turn away any extra help he could get, even if he did have reason to doubt Ironwood's motives. "Very well, we'll pack up our gear and head out for Vytal tonight. I want to make sure the Radar Array is fixed before we go anywhere."

Bradford nodded in response to his decision. "I'll issue the order to head back to the Dominion, I'll make sure we're not leaving anything behind."

"Make sure that you don't." Ironwood interjected, with perhaps a greater degree of urgency than he had meant too, before returning to a more stoic state of emotion. "We can't afford to have people like Tyrian Callows running around with UNSC weapons, or gods forbid, your explosives."

"I wouldn't worry about that General." Bradford replied, seemingly unconcerned by the issue. "We're only missing a few pieces of equipment from the inventory, and we'll find them before we head out…"

Evernight Castle

October 17th, 1857 Local Time, 2552

Grey rain softly dropped upon the landing pad as Salem and Watts waited inside for Tyrian to return from Argus. It was still somewhat amusing to her that something as old as Evernight Castle would require something as modern as a landing pad, but expanding the Castle was hardly a considerable effort. It seemed however, that Doctor Watts did not possess patience in the same degree that she did.

"Are we sure he hasn't crashed into a mountain on his way here? Or perhaps I'm being too optimistic-" He snarkily commented, before Salem interrupted him.

"There is wisdom in respecting your allies, Doctor. You of all people should know that." Salem firmly stated. "And I would rather than Tyrian return safely and quietly, than quickly and brashly."

Watts nodded at her words. "I will give Tyrian credit where it is due, he can be very discreet when the circumstances demand it."

"That is precisely why I sent him." Salem said. "We cannot allow the UNSC to discover this place, at least, not before the Vytal Festival."

She was consciously aware that it would only be a matter of time before she and her castle were discovered by the UNSC, between their satellites and their ability to exit the atmosphere, there was nothing that she could do to hide such a large location. She could try to cast an illusion spell to make the Castle appear to be abandoned, but even she had trouble conjuring enough magic to perform something that grand-scale. And although she would likely have to move her base of operations when the UNSC did find the Castle, it would only delay her inevitable victory.

"I wonder what it is that he's managed to secure?" Watts said aloud. "I think we can safely assume he has something of considerable value, or else he would not return."

As soon as he finished speaking, Salem spotted the faint silhouette of an airship in the distance. "It looks like you won't have to wait too much longer to find out."

Watts let out a sigh of relief. "Finally."

A lone Atlesian gunship flew through the air, before touching down on the landing pad. Tyrian emerged from the cockpit shortly afterwards, carrying a backpack along with him, one that bore the insignia of the UNSC. As soon as he was inside he bowed down on one knee.

"My Queen, I have destroyed what you have asked me too, and retrieved that which you needed." Tyrian said.

"So I see." She replied. "Were you discovered before you made your escape?"

"I… was." Tyrian sheepishly admitted as he stood up. "The Atlas Commander died without a fight, but she was surrounded by witnesses, some of which may have survived the battle."

Salem hummed softly. "That is unfortunate, but it will hardly be a major setback."

Tyrian seemed surprised at how easily he had been forgiven for his failure. "It won't?"

"I can't imagine so. Even Ozpin is uncertain as to where your loyalties lie, Atlas and the UNSC will not know why you attacked." Salem pointed out. "Our plans remain safe, but you will need to be more careful during your future missions, Atlas will want revenge."

Tyrian chuckled. "Not to worry my Queen, I'll make sure they don't get any."

Watts cleared his throat to interrupt them. "Pardon me Tyrian, but could I see what you've managed to steal?"

Tyrian grinned madly. "Of course!"

He tossed the backpack to Watts, who grunted in surprise as he barely managed to catch it, before he turned his attention back to Salem. "Did you need anything else from me, my lady?"

"For now, no." She replied. "You have done well Tyrian, now rest, there will certainly be more to do in the near future."

He gave a bow of respect and left further into the castle, giggling as he did so.

"Well well, what do we have here?" Watts said.

Salem turned to see that, unsurprisingly, he was already digging into the backpack to see what was in it. The first object he had retrieved was some kind of large UNSC scroll, although it had a solid screen, rather than a traditional collapsible monitor.

"Hmm, for something so advanced, it certainly looks ancient." Watts muttered. He fiddled with some of the buttons, only for the device to activate, displaying two words in vibrant red text, 'Access Denied'.

Salem frowned at the display of defiance from the computer. "Can you open it?"

"With time, certainly." Watts answered, the confidence in his voice completely unfazed, even if he did sound quite annoyed.

He placed the datapad back into the bag, and retrieved a far more familiar object, a firearm. It was surprisingly small, built around a simple design, and possessing a collapsible stock. Overall, it was a strangely conventional submachine gun design, considering its extraterrestrial origins.

"I was expecting something more… intimidating." Salem commented, for a military weapon, it was quite small.

"So was I." Watts admitted. She watched as he tried to use electronic rings on the weapon, only for him to grunt with dissatisfaction. "Odd, I was expecting some kind of computer interface. I wonder why they haven't installed one?"

"A simple tool is not likely to break when you need it most." Salem pointed out. "Is there any ammo?"

"Well, I believe that if I do this…" Watts said, before pressing on a button on the weapon, causing a piece of it to fall off of the side. "Ah, so that's the magazine."

Salem gave a smile of satisfaction as Watts unloaded a pair of what she could only assume were alien bullets from the device. They were very strangely shaped, but she was already aware of the power that they possessed.

"Hmm, it has no casing." Watts noted. "Well, hopefully I can figure out how they made these. With any luck, I can upgrade our weapons to fire these rounds, as well as our own. When we make our move, the UNSC will find that they are not so special."

He placed the strange bullets back into the magazine, before stowing both it and the weapon back into the backpack, and withdrawing another familiar object. "Oh my…"

"Is that a radio?" Salem asked.

"...Yes it is." Watts said, after a moment's examination. "Now this, this is a grand find! If I could figure out how these work, I could access their communications!"

Salem eyed the object with uncertainty, her knowledge of radios was very limited compared to other modern technologies. "Couldn't they trace the signal back to us?"

Watts frowned. "I do not believe so… but, perhaps we should be cautious, the UNSC may have installed safeguards to prevent infiltration."

The final object in the bag was easily the strangest. While the radio, submachine gun, and scroll had all been familiar concepts to her, the last object was a simple dark-green metal box about the size of a coffee mug, with a single outlet for some unknown plug. There was a warning label among the side of it, but it had been scratched off at some point.

"What is that?" Salem asked.

"...I'm honestly not sure." Watts answered, his brow furrowing with indignation at being presented something he did not recognize. "Well then, I'll need to examine this all in my Lab with greater detail if we plan to use any of it."

"See that you do." Salem commanded.

Watts did as he was ordered, and left for his Lab, leaving Salem alone with her thoughts. She looked out at the airship that Tyrian had presumably stolen to return, and found herself thinking about whether or not he had been followed.

There's no reason to worry, even if the UNSC did manage to find this place, they would find themselves facing a force far greater than they found at Argus. She thought.

Author's Notes: Jesus christ this chapter was a bitch and a half, hope it turned out well!

I wanted to address a slight spelling mistake I had previously made in chapter 8. In it, Thomas stated that Set's surname is 'Ladum, however, this is not correct. In actuality, his surname is 'Vadum. I apologize for any inconvenience.

On a totally unrelated note, one of the wonderful editors for The Men From Onyx, a man who goes by the username SardonicEffigy is currently writing a RWBY fic of their own, centered around Pyrrha. It's called "Destiny No More", and I encourage any Pyrrha fans to give it a read over on his profile. I hear the editors he has are very handsome and talented.