The Men From Onyx

by kpmh2001

A UNSC frigate is sent into another dimension after a disaster with their slipspace drive. Now lost in unknown territory, they must attempt to befriend the population of a local planet of strange humans under constant siege from an army of monsters. Consider this a minor AU as there are some slight differences, but everything major is still in the same place.

53. Chapter 53

UNSC Dominion, Brig

October 18th, 1101 Local Time, 2552

It seemed like it had been forever since the last time that Ben had spoken with Set, and curiously, he didn't find himself dreading the experience as he had done previously. For one, the Elite had grown somewhat less obnoxious and speaking with Set gave Ben the perfect opportunity to learn more about the Covenant. It also gave him something to focus on, which helped him keep his mind off of what Curie was going through.

Curie still hadn't discovered a way to reverse her Rampancy, or even slow it down. During the few times that Ben had gotten the chance to speak with her, she seemed paranoid, even a little bit afraid, and he didn't blame her. He did his best to stay focused on his own duties, but he found that his mind was seemingly fixated on trying to find a way to fix her. The inner workings of an A.I fell far outside of his area of expertise, and Curie had made it abundantly clear that if there was anything that he could do to help her, she would tell him.

Worrying is useless, but concern is indispensable. Another one of Chief Mendez's lessons echoed in Ben's ears, which helped him keep his mind at ease.

When Ben arrived at the Brig, he noted that a handful of the SDC prisoners had been relocated from their cells, although where they had gone, he didn't know. He spotted Thomas waiting for him at the far end of the Brig, reading something on his datapad with a scowl on his face.

"Sergeant, do you have any idea what the hell is going on with the messaging system?" Thomas asked. "I sent out a set of orders ten minutes ago, and the recipients only just now got them."

"I can't say I do Sir, but that sounds like a question for Curie." Ben answered. "Comms systems aren't really my area of expertise."

Thomas stared at him with an unreadable expression for a moment before he spoke again. "I suppose it wouldn't be. But nevermind that, I need you to ask the split-lip a few things for us."

"Us?" Ben asked. He hadn't known that anyone else was involved with Set's questioning.

"Curie thinks this thing might be holding onto some intel about where we really are. Personally, I'm not sure if I believe that, but it's not my business to make that decision." Thomas explained. "Here, I'll upload what she wanted to know to your HUD… provided the damn system works."

Sure enough, a new objective appeared before his eyes, detailing a surprisingly small list of questions for Ben to relay. "A bit shorter than usual."

Thomas gave the Elite a glare through the one-way wall. "Good, maybe this won't take so long, then we can go do something productive."

"If Curie thinks that it's worth our time, it is." Ben simply stated.

Thomas seemed to think over his words for a moment, before softly shaking his head, and unlocked the door to Set's cell. "Go on, we've wasted enough time already."

Ben opened the door and stepped inside. Since he had last seen Set, the alien seemingly hadn't changed much. Drawings of various Covenant Warriors, Vehicles, and other detailed pieces of artwork still adorned every wall of his cell, and there was still a faint sense of unease about him, probably due more so to his ongoing isolation than anything else.

He's probably going to lose his mind at some point if he hasn't already. Ben thought. It was only once he noticed the silence that he picked up on another oddity, the Elite hadn't made any kind of snarky remark, or even spoken at all.

"Something wrong?" Ben asked. In truth, he wasn't terribly concerned for the Elite's health, but if it had gotten sick, there wasn't much that the crew of the Dominion could do to help.

Only once he heard Ben speak did the Elite turn to face him. "Yes, you've disrupted the silence."

"I figured you would be happy to have someone to talk to." Ben said. "I never took you as the kind of warrior to wallow in isolation."

"That is not the first time that you have been wrong, Demon, and I doubt it shall be the last. Silence is merely the absence of distraction, a perfect opportunity to focus, to think." Set replied. "But if you have come to break it, so be it. What do you want?"

At least he got to the point quickly. Ben thought, unsurprised by Set's attitude. "Curie wants to know more about what your people call 'Shunspace.' She thinks that it's relevant to us going back home."

The immediate response from Set was not what Ben had expected, but he saw what the Elite tried to hide clear as day, fear. Looks like he does know something useful.

But before long, his arrogant stance returned. "Why does she not ask herself?"

His words took Ben completely off-guard, and it took a great deal of focus not to flinch from the hard question. "Curie has other duties that only she can do, so she tasked me with talking to you."

"Typical humans, make the ancilla do it for you." Set replied, his voice rich with disgust. "But that is not relevant, what was your earlier question?"

Ben repeated the question, and Set's eyes narrowed as the Elite straightened up its posture and seemingly put deep thought into Curie's request. It was a welcome change of pace from his typically snarky and unhelpful attitude.

"What little I know of Shunspace comes from a myriad of Holy Texts, all having some relation to the Forerunner's war with the great parasite." Set stated, immediately raising several new questions.

A war against a parasite? Ben thought, wondering what purpose a divine being could have for fighting in the first place. Then again, it's all a bunch of bullshit anyway, I'm not surprised it doesn't make sense.

"The Forerunners had not yet achieved godhood, and struggled against the parasite, which left their Empire in a state of great distress." Set explained, seemingly having predicted Ben's lack of knowledge on that subject. "It was during this time that the Thousand Solutions were sought, of which accessing Shunspace was one of them."

"Go on." Ben said, in spite of the fact that he was barely digesting what the Elite was saying. His own understanding of what Set was saying wasn't important, he could rely on Curie to work with the information.

For now. A morbid thought ran through Ben's mind like a bullet, tearing apart his focus as it went. Thankfully, Set didn't seem to comprehend Ben's mental dilemma, in fact, to his absolute astonishment, the Elite nodded in compliance.

"Shunspace is a place much like normal space, but devoid of the touch of the gods, for they never ventured into its confines. Although they pondered fleeing to Shunspace to escape the Parasite, they determined this to be an unrealistic proposition, and instead elected to stand and fight. In the end, they had no need to flee to that wretched place, when Halo's divine wind spread throughout the galaxy, they all achieved salvation."

If somebody made all that up, they probably put a lot of effort into it. Ben noted. "You said it's much like normal space, what does that mean?"

The Elite grunted in frustration. "What are you, dense? Have you not stood in normal space?"

"I'm just making sure I understand this correctly, after all, what's the point of you answering my questions if I don't understand the answers?" Ben asked, once again ignoring the Elite's sass.

Set grunted in acknowledgement. "A fair argument. In truth, I cannot say for certain, the Gods were most… unclear, with how they wrote about it. From what texts we have, The Gods ascended before they could finish discovering what exactly Shunspace was, or how it worked. That is the extent of my own knowledge, unless you would care to hear the hapless rumors of the lower races."

I don't really hold his word in any higher regard, so why not? Ben thought. "I would."

Set was visibly disgruntled by his answer. "Very well, if you believe their whimpers are truly worth contemplating. Whatever I have to do to escape this wretched cell."

Whatever? Ben noted Set's choice of words. I wonder just how desperate he's getting?

Set continued on. "Although now that I ponder it further, some of the lower ministers did acknowledge their theories, which would grant them some merit."

"Theories?" Ben asked, feeling that his interjection was appropriate. "I thought that your beliefs didn't change?"

Set sighed in annoyance, which to Ben, sounded more like someone gurgling water with their mouth. "I do not care to discuss theological theory with a Demon, but for the sake of clarity, certain texts of the Forerunners are vague, and are subject to different interpretations. Often, the High Prophets will settle these disputes personally, in a court of law."

Because of course they would… Ben thought, wondering which lucky soldier would finally get to put an end to those self-entitled pricks. Whoever they are, I hope they don't spare the bastards any mercy.

"What was their theory about Shunspace?" Ben asked, hoping to keep the Elite in a compliant mood by staying on topic.

Set's demeanor shifted to one that Ben couldn't quite decipher, but it was very apparent that it was based in negativity. "They proposed that Shunspace was used as a prison by the gods, to hold those deemed unworthy of ascension from Halo's divine wind."

"Hell." Ben summarized.

"That... would not be a bad translation, I suppose." Set replied.

There was a tense moment of silence as the two of them privately considered the implications. While Ben didn't have the slightest clue what Set would've been thinking, his own thoughts were not existential in nature, but rather those of confusion.

If we are in Shunspace, why do the Covenant think it's a prison for their gods? Ben thought. Either way, it seems like Set puts a bit more faith in those theories than he's implying.

Separating religious propaganda from any sort of actual tangible knowledge was damn near impossible, something that UNSC scientists and xeno-archeologists had figured out very early in the war. Curie was probably the best person to present with the task, but for once, Ben doubted that she could discern anything of use, and not just because of her Rampancy.

"Do you believe that we have become trapped within Shunspace, Demon?" Set asked. The hint of fear that Ben had sensed earlier was now gone, replaced with some other, unreadable emotion.

"If I knew, I would tell you." Ben honestly said.

"Truly? Or do you only seek to patronize me?" Set asked, his voice rich with contempt.

"We're trying to go home too." Ben pointed out. "We still don't even know where we are. You offered your cooperation if it means that you get to go home as well, right?"

Set nodded. "That I did, but I did not expect you to show that degree of… reason."

Ben scowled behind his visor, the Elite's attitude was starting to genuinely get on his nerves, more so than normal. "Oh well, we're just full of surprises aren't we?"

"Feh." Set waved his hand dismissively. "If your ancilla's theory proves itself to be true, I am afraid we may not have the choice of going home at all."

Set's callous dismissal of Curie and Richard's attempts to get them home annoyed him even further. "Don't be so sure. If your Gods never even reached Shunspace, and we ended up here without even trying, then maybe they aren't so special after all."

That seemed to strike a nerve with Set, as he roared with fury. "Just what meaning do you think your words hold Demon?! Compared to the holy light of the Gods, your soul is naught but a cesspool of heresy!"

Ben didn't flinch, even though the Elite had moved considerably closer. "Demon or not, you don't serve the will of your Gods, do you? You serve your Prophets! They could tell you to eat your own leg and you'd do it!"

"Perhaps the Gods simply saw fit to banish you and your damnable ship where you all belong!"

"And also a Holy Warrior like you, right?" Ben retorted.

Set paused, and actually seemed to give Ben's words some thought, before he responded with the same passion as before. "Whatever duties the Gods have for me, I shall answer to their call, no matter where I must go to do it!"

Ben fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Right… got any other words of divine wisdom for us?"

Set growled. "I have a feeling that if the Gods see fit to grant you any mind, none of us will live to see the aftermath."

"They're welcome to come pay us a visit, it wouldn't be the first time that we've killed the Invulnerable." Ben stated. "If you don't have anything else useful to say, I believe we're done here."

Set huffed. "Good."

Ben paid him no additional mind and left the cell without another word spoken between them. Thomas relocked the door once it was shut.

"Hmm, a little more argumentative than I was expecting, but it works." Thomas commented, with a faint sense of disappointment.

Ben felt more than a little embarrassed, but before he could speak, Thomas waved for him to stay silent. "Don't worry about it. You got the information we needed, that's all that matters."

I guess he has a point. Ben thought. "So, what do you think about what he said? He seemed pretty disturbed when I mentioned Shunspace."

"I don't know the first damn thing about Covenant Religion, he could be telling the truth or making up everything, and I wouldn't know either way." Thomas said, before withdrawing a small datacube and handing it to Ben. "Here, copy over your helmet camera's footage to this, it's always good to have backups of things."

Ben did as he asked and returned the datacube, with Thomas pocketed. "Thank you Spartan, that should be all."

"...You don't need me to deliver it to Curie?" Ben asked. If the messaging system was malfunctioning as Thomas had stated, a manual delivery was the obvious solution. Of course, Ben was also hoping to get a chance to talk to Curie and check on her condition, but that came second to performing his duties.

"That won't be necessary, I can have another runner handle that. You're dismissed, Spartan." Thomas said. His tone of voice implied that perhaps he wasn't fully listening.

For a brief moment, Ben paused, considering whether it would be appropriate to simply ask Thomas about Curie's condition. The curiosity and anxiety was eating away at him, and a gut feeling told him that one tiny question would not be considered out of line, especially given the circumstances.

But at the same time, it would be. Thomas was his superior officer, and he had dismissed Ben, it was not only courteous for him to leave, it was effectively mandatory. So in spite of his own personal concerns, he offered Thomas a firm salute, and left to carry out his next set of orders.

Maybe I'm overthinking this. Ben thought as he left the brig. I'm not a technician or a scientist, I can't help Curie with my skillset, and it's not like they're obligated to keep me informed as to what's happening with her... I can trust my comrades to keep Curie safe.

And yet, Ben still couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong somehow, although he couldn't say what exactly it was.

UNSC Dominion, War Room

October 18th, 1201 Local Time, 2552

It had taken twelve hours longer than Richard had hoped for the Dominion to actually get moving, thanks in no small part to the painstakingly slow repairs to the Radar Array. But now that they were complete, the UNSC was free to leave Argus safely in Atlesian hands, and set the Dominion on a low-intensity high-altitude burn for the island of Vytal. The route that Lieutenant Chen had planned out was by no means the fastest, but it was the safest, and that took priority.

While the Dominion completed its steady trek and the various Marine units that would be responsible for safeguarding Vytal made their preparations, Richard and Bradford joined Curie in the War Room, where she presented her latest discoveries from the safe confines of an armored matrix. So far, Richard had yet to see any major indications of Rampancy from her, but that didn't mean that nothing was happening.

The heavy titanium data storage unit sat on the holotable, deliberately isolated from any other systems, with Curie's chip contained within. Although she could not project her avatar, she could still effectively communicate with people around her, which was critical, given the importance of what she had to say.

"-In conclusion, what information we have gathered independently, combined with what Set said to Ben, has left me with only one theory of remote plausibility." Curie concluded. "We are located within what the Covenant calls "Shunspace"."

"...And we're stuck here for good?" Bradford cautiously added.

"On the contrary, with a functioning Shaw-Fujikawa drive, I believe that I could recreate the event that brought us here, and as a result, return home." Curie answered. "Although that does still leave us with the considerable challenge of modernizing Remnant to the point where we can produce one, our immediate circumstances have not changed."

Even despite Curie's words being a blunt reminder that nothing had changed, Richard couldn't help but feel a bit of relief. "Well, at least we know for sure that we have a way home, provided we live long enough to get to that point."

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Richard mentally kicked himself as he realized who he was talking too. "Wait, Curie, I didn't mean-"

"Do not worry, I… take no offense." Curie said, although the dejection in her voice was extremely evident. Richard had no doubt that if she could display her avatar, she would probably look as miserable as she felt. "My Rampancy is not your immediate concern."

"It is. Remember, without you, we have no way to return home." Richard stated. "Any progress on slowing your Rampancy down?"

"Not yet I'm afraid, but I still have a good amount of time left to find a solution." Curie answered with a bit more levity in her voice. "I have assembled a handful of theories that may be able to decrease the rate of corruption, but so far, I haven't discovered anything that could stop it entirely."

"Hold on, if you might have methods to slow down your Rampancy, why not test them?" Bradford asked.

"I am reluctant to, as they carry their own set of risks." Curie answered. "The first is based on an oddity in a Smart A.I's behavior observed by a Spartan Team operating in a former insurrectionist hideaway. They noted that by focusing on a single, complex task, the Insurrectionist A.I was able to avoid the complete onset of Rampancy, simply through concentration."

Richard noted a subtle shift in Bradford's posture at the mention of the Insurrectionists, as well as a great deal of frustration in his voice as he spoke. "I wouldn't put much stock in the claims of Insurrectionists if I were you."

"As I stated, the observations were carried out by a Spartan Team, their loyalty and the validity of the claims are unquestionable." Curie pointed out. "Still, the problem stems from the fact that the A.I they observed was suffering from age-induced rampancy, not stress-induced rampancy."

"That, and they weren't an A.I fragment. For all we know, it wouldn't work on you anyway." Richard added.

"Sadly, that is also correct." Curie stated. "On a related note, I believe that I have decoded at least one file from Colonel Ackerson's files. I should have a readable version by the end of the day."

Well, at least we're making some kind of progress. Richard thought. "Why don't you just create a set of false credentials? Wouldn't you be able to access them all at once, rather than manually decrypting them?"

"I attempted that, but they require a biometric signature, not an electronic one." Curie answered. "I have devised a quicker method to decrypt the files, but it is-"

In the middle of her statement, Curie suddenly went totally silent. A few moments passed, then more, and she still did not speak.

"Curie?" Richard asked, a knot of fear starting to form in his gut. He and Bradford both looked at one another, and quickly realized that neither of them had any idea what was happening. "Curie, are you there?"

Another few seconds passed, before Curie finally answered. "Hello? Yes? What's wrong?"

Richard let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Thank God. Are you okay?"

"I believe so." Curie answered. She sounded more confused than anything else. "Why, what happened?"

Richard nervously scratched at the unkempt stubble on his face, had she not even noticed that she had stopped talking? Was her Rampancy finally beginning to take hold of her capabilities?

"You cut-off mid-sentence, you were silent for at least fifteen seconds." Bradford answered.

"...Are you certain?" Curie asked. She sounded afraid, and Richard didn't blame her.

"I'm afraid so. Do you know what happened?" Richard asked.

Curie was silent for a worryingly long time before she replied. "I am not sure. This is very… confusing."

And terrifying. Richard mentally added. "Let us know if it happens again, or anything else out of the ordinary, okay?"

"I will." Curie said. "What were we discussing again?"

"The files on A.I fragments, you said you might have a faster way to open them." Bradford reminded her.

"I did?" Curie asked. She was seemingly quite surprised by his words, judging by her tone of voice. "I am afraid I do not have anything of the sort."

Bradford gave Richard a nervous look before speaking again. "You did mention it. Is it possible that you… forgot?"

A.I can't forget things. Richard thought. "I don't suppose it matters now, whatever she had to say, it's gone now. Curie, keep working on solving your Rampancy, we'll talk again in a bit."

"I will continue my endeavors, and alert you if I make any progress." Curie stated.

Richard picked up her armored matrix and placed it back within the quarantined terminal that Thomas had fashioned. As soon as it clicked into place, and he knew that Curie could no longer hear them, he let out a sigh of frustration.

"Goddamnit! Why did this have to happen now of all times?!" Richard demanded, speaking to nobody in particular.

"Murphy's law?" Bradford jokingly suggested.

"Yeah well, I'd like to have a word with the bastard…" Richard replied, before looking back at Curie's isolated terminal. "We need to find a way to buy Curie some time. If she can't figure out a solution on her own, we'll have to do it ourselves."

Bradford walked over and joined him beside Curie's terminal. "Well, I did have one idea, but it's a total crapshoot."

Richard shook his head. "I'll take anything at this point, shoot."

"Curie absorbed some firmware from that Dumb A.I that was in Jorge's armor, right?" Bradford asked.

"Yeah, Auntie Dot. Why?" Richard asked.

Bradford seemed a bit reassured by his words. "Well, Dumb A.I are manually coded. If Curie can accept manual coding into her Riemann Matrix, maybe we could script a solution to her Rampancy, or at least buy her some time."

Richard nodded, this all sounded fairly good so far. "So what's the catch?"

"Well first of all, if Curie was made from a human brain at some point, that raises the question of how exactly she can operate manual scripting, after all, human brains don't use code." Bradford pointed out. "We'd be liable to cause her further damage just as much as we could help her."

Richard flinched, that was a pretty considerable downside to this particular plan. "Anything else?"

"Coding something like that is pretty far out of my field of expertise." Bradford answered. "That doesn't mean I can't do it, especially if I had a few technicians to help me, but it would take time, lots of it."

Richard almost didn't want to ask. "How long?"

"Realistically? A few weeks to a month or two, we can't take the risk of doing this wrong." Bradford answered.

Richard looked back at the terminal Curie was being kept in, and thought back to how she'd seemingly forgotten she was talking to them. "...Do it. Assemble anyone you might need, and brief them on the situation, and make sure they keep their mouths shut. Morale is in the gutter at the moment, the crew cannot know that Curie might be dying."

"Aye Sir." Bradford said. "Although now that you mentioned it… maybe we could share the news about where exactly we are with the crew. I'm sure knowing that we're safe from the Covenant would help boost everyone's spirits."

Richard thought it over for a moment, but quickly realized the problems with that plan. "We can't tell them everything. If news were to spread to Remnant that we're in Covenant Hell… I don't want to think about what would happen."

Bradford seemed a bit confused. "Are you sure Sir? I think everyone knows the Covenant are a bunch of lunatics by now."

"We might, but keep in mind, your average civilian down on Remnant still doesn't know shit about the Covenant, and we should keep it that way." Richard said. "Feel free to tell the crew that we have good reason to believe the Covenant won't follow us, and that if we can put together a Slipspace Drive in the future, we know that we have a way home, but leave it at that."

Bradford nodded. "Aye Sir."

Once he left, Richard was all alone in the War Room. He took another look back at Curie's terminal, and listened to the faint electronic noises it made.

"How the hell am I supposed to tell Ben about this?" Richard muttered to himself.

Vytal Airspace

October 18th, 1124 Local Time, 2552

The troop compartment of the D77H-TCI Pelican was surprisingly small in Mags' opinion, given that it was meant to ferry loads of soldiers and material from a ship in orbit down to a planet's surface, and vice-versa. Still, it was a truly enviable dropship that she would love to own, and apparently civilians were permitted to own disarmed variants of them in UNSC space, and that very prospect made her heart rush with newfound energy. Her love for all things to do with oceangoing vessels extended to the stars, for many of the same reasons.

While she sat and polished her boots, the Marines in all of the seats chattered with one another, seemingly discussing some big news from their superior officers, but she wasn't paying much attention. Across from her, Jorge sat quietly and tinkered with his weapon, as he had been doing for the last twenty-odd minutes.

"Something on your mind, or am I just that pretty?" Mags teasingly asked.

Jorge softly chuckled. "A few things, yeah. Just some… problems, that we've got back on the Dominion."

Mags sensed the weight of the words as he spoke them. "Nothing too dangerous I'd hope?"

"It's… classified." Jorge answered. "At least, for the time being."

There was an awkward silence for a moment as Mags made a multitude of mental guesses as to what he might be talking about, before he spoke again. "Hey Mags, settle a bet for me will ya?"

He's changing the topic on purpose. Mags noticed, but she didn't see any reason to push her luck with whatever secret Jorge was sitting on. "Aye, what is it?"

"Have you ever seen any active service?" Jorge asked. "Not as a Huntress I mean, but as a soldier… or a sailor, I guess, in your case."

Mags gave a laugh at his awkward observations, but beneath her outward reaction, she was unnerved by his question.

She doubted he would count the White Fang as a military.

Long before she'd graduated from Beacon Academy, she'd taken part in more than her fair share of civil-rights protests, boycotts, and occasional riots that she could reasonably count. Back then, the White Fang had been aiming for equality, for justice. Violence was rare, and almost always in self-defense, at least with the group of folks she had travelled with. Like a few others in her group, Mags learned to fight out of necessity, some more closed-minded humans tended to fight against their message with rifles, not words.

But all of that had changed when Ghira had stepped down as the leader of the White Fang, and a hotheaded self-righteous bitch named Sienna Khan had taken over. Mags had left along with a few of her comrades, as part of a display that they had lost their faith in the White Fang. The White Fang had let them all leave, and had not tried to stop them. Nowadays, she heard that they fed deserters to the Grimm, usually while they were still alive.

Keep it cool Maggie, that's all in the past. Mags thought as she took a single deep breath.

"I've got some experience, but I'm afraid I haven't ever served in the typical sense, but I try to hold myself to high standards. Some of my old Professors at Beacon really helped me out." Mags answered. It wasn't a lie, but it definitely wasn't the truth.

Thankfully, Jorge didn't seem to read into her answer. Then again, maybe he was, it was incredibly difficult to tell what he was thinking when he had his helmet on.

"I see, it must be a hell of an academy then." Jorge replied. "I only visited the place once, and didn't stay long enough to make a good opinion of it. Ben stayed for a bit as part of a technical exchange program, and he said that it was alright, even if it was… informal."

Mags fought the urge to chuckle at the circumstances, she could only imagine how a stick in the mud like Ben would respond to a place as chaotic and rowdy as Beacon.

That's why it was so great. Mags thought wistfully. Sure she and her training team had collectively caused more damage in taxpayer dollars than a small tornado by the end of their first year, but Professor Goodwitch had always been there to help put things back together, and her team had all survived, and Remnant had gained four more qualified defenders against the Grimm. I oughta call her once we get a moment of quiet, see if she's coming to the conference.

"It's nice. If you ever get a chance, you should see if they still do tours." Mags suggested.

Jorge shook his head. "Eh, not likely. It's not that I'm not interested, but uh… we don't get leave all that often."

Mags raised an eyebrow. "Really now?"

"Taking Spartans off the frontline isn't really… wise." Jorge elaborated. "Not that it matters much to us, I haven't met a Spartan who regrets their choice of career."

Mags shrugged. "Hey, if it works for you all, good enough. It ain't my place to intrude."

Jorge gave her a thankful nod. "I appreciate it."

Mags was about to respond, when Jorge put a hand to his helmet, seemingly talking with someone over the radio.

Probably best that I don't interrupt him, I wouldn't want to disrupt anything. Mags thought, returning her attention to her boots. By the time she was done getting the leather back to how she liked it, Jorge had finished his conversation and was removing his helmet with a sound of annoyance.

"Sorry about that, apparently the Ace-Ops are having some trouble getting used to the radios." Jorge explained. Mags scowled, and Jorge seemed to pick up on her reaction. "Something wrong?"

Mags sighed and shook her head. "I'm just… I'm not sure how comfortable I am having those Specialists around. I know that they're good soldiers and all, but well, they gave up the Huntsmen title."

"There's nothing wrong with being a soldier, especially not a loyal one." Jorge said. He showed no signs of being offended, instead, he sounded genuinely curious.

"I agree, but the Ace-Ops could've served Atlas just fine without writing off the rest of Remnant, just like the rest of the Specialists did." Mags pointed out. "Forgive me if I'm not so keen to trust the judgement of the Atlesian Military."

Jorge pointedly remained silent, and Mags could pretty confidently guess what he was thinking about. Jorge had personally led missions to help clear out the SDC, he would've seen firsthand what happened when Atlas failed its people. When he did eventually respond, his voice sounded unusually weary.

"It's not my call to make, the Commander wanted them along, so they'll help clear the Grimm out. So long as they follow orders and do their jobs, nothing will go wrong."

Mags gave him a wary expression. "You trust your Commander that much?"

"I do, but that doesn't mean I can't take certain precautions in the event that bringing them along was a mistake." Jorge explained. "Sergeant Benjamin is going to go with them and make sure that there's not any communication mishaps, but he'll also make sure that they do their jobs without a fuss. I'm confident they don't need him, but it never hurts to help out our allies a little bit."

Mags nodded with understanding, even if Jorge didn't share her suspicions, he had at least seen fit to give the Specialists a capable watchdog. "What about your own squad? Shouldn't you be sticking together?"

"Nathan and Fairfire are training their Semblances, Yu is still recovering from her lung wound, Meadows is in a similar boat to Yu, and Pegamagabow is on shore leave." Jorge explained. "Me and Ben are still operational, but for the moment, Onyx Team is out of action."

Mags nodded in understanding. "Damn shame, 'Onyx' is a good name for a training team, you all would've fit right in at Beacon."

Jorge didn't seem to know how to respond to that, as he remained silent, which seemed to be a regular occurrence from him. Mags had also noticed that Ben tended to also go silent whenever he didn't know what to say, maybe it was just a running trend for Spartans.

They are a bit strange, but that doesn't mean they aren't good people. Mags thought. I'd take a Spartan by my side over a whole team of Specialists any day.

An electronic sound signaled that the pilot's intercom was coming online. The Marines fell silent and looked up at it expectantly, before Fireball's voice began to emit from the speakers.

"Hope you all haven't gotten too comfy, we're about five mikes out from the LZ." Fireball announced. "Make sure to grab everything once we land, if you assholes leave any more snack wrappers under my seats, I will personally force you to eat them."

Mags snickered at the Pilot's playful threat along with a few of the other Marines, before she turned her attention back to Jorge. "So, what's our first assignment?"

"We'll be sweeping all of the Landing Sites for any kind of suspicious objects, we're on the lookout for IEDs." Jorge answered. "After that, we'll be patrolling the streets, we don't want any would-be assassins sneaking through."

Mags raised an eyebrow. "You say that like you're expecting a human attack, not Grimm."

"I am." Jorge bluntly answered. "Commander Miller and Lieutenant Oswald are worried that certain terrorist factions may try to disrupt the conference, maybe even target the delegates. Our job is to make sure that they never get a chance."

Mags grimaced, she almost didn't want to ask, but she had to know for certain. "I'm cleared to know all that, right?"

"The big one we're looking out for is the White Fang." Jorge stated, confirming her worst suspicions. "From what we've gathered, they're a Faunus supremacist group that grew out of the remains of a dead civil-rights movement."

Even having braced for it, Jorge's blunt answer still hurt her to her core. What made it hurt even more was that he was totally correct, that was exactly what the White Fang had become. "You don't need to tell me. I've… dealt with them before."

Jorge put his helmet back on and ran a final inspection of his weapon. "I'm glad to have someone experienced on the team."

Mags didn't see a good reason to correct him, and he wasn't technically wrong, she had fought against the White Fang since she had left, and frankly, her distant past was irrelevant. "Why do you think the White Fang will try to stop the conference? They would know that Chief Belladonna is coming."

"We don't know if they will, but we should assume the worst." Jorge answered. "Commander Miller and the Chieftain are going to be demanding some major reforms to Menagerie's place on Remnant, and we don't know how the White Fang will respond."

Mags raised an eyebrow, she'd heard rumors from the Marines that the UNSC Commander and Chieftain Belladonna were planning something big for Menagerie as a whole, but she hadn't had any idea what it was. "What'll they be demanding?"

"They're hoping to get Menagerie international recognition as a fully-fledged Kingdom, and hopefully ease racial tensions a bit in the process. The end goal is to have five fully-fledged nations on Remnant that can treat one another with a bit of respect." Jorge answered. "We don't know how the White Fang will react, but we can't put our confidence in a terror organization's ability to be reasonable, even if our demands are in line with their own goals."

Mags paused and digested his words for a moment, Menagerie as a Kingdom? What would that even entail? And Jorge raised an excellent point: what the hell would the White Fang have to say about it? Would they be pleased or outraged? She already knew they would be watching with bated breath to hear the announcement for the date of Jacques Schnne's international trial, and she didn't blame them, she could not wait to watch that snivelling cunt get twenty-seven consecutive life-sentences live on television.

"I suppose that's certainly reasonable." Mags replied, before she made a realization. "Hold on a moment, even if the White Fang wanted to attack the conference, how would they even get there? It's not like they've got spaceships!"

Jorge paused and considered her words. "I hadn't thought of that actually. I'll admit, I've gotten used to fighting the Covenant, it's hard to imagine having a technology advantage for a change."

Mags understood his plight well, he was so ingrained into one way of thinking that he was making mistakes now that he was faced with a new situation. "That doesn't mean we should get cocky, just because the Fang' won't attack us, doesn't mean the Grimm won't."

"I agree wholeheartedly." Jorge replied. "And don't worry about the Grimm, I hear that Zulu Company's going to be trying out some of their new weapons on them."

Vytal Island, Outskirts of Vytal City

October 18th, 1544 Local Time, 2552

Were it not for General Ironwood's Aura, he was all but certain that the UNSC's M440 "Four-Forty" howitzers would have deafened him outright. The Marines who operated the cannons seemingly felt no discomfort from the constant blasts, either their ear protection was much stronger than it looked, or they were all already deaf. But the deafening sound was the least of the weapon system's destructive capabilities, as the Marines merrily demonstrated to the Grimm.

The Artillery Crews had set up a small position for themselves on the outskirts of Vytal City. Originally, the Marines had intended to set up their guns within the borders of the settlement, but General Ironwood had quickly intervened, seeing as that would have undoubtedly caused a massive panic. After a brief debate with the Platoon Sergeant in charge of the unit, they agreed to establish a position outside of the city borders.

At first, Ironwood was surprised that the otherwise professional and downright impressive Marines would make such a simple mistake, until he remembered where they came from. While General Ironwood still had a lot to learn about the UNSC's war with the Covenant, it was no secret that the UNSC was on the defensive.

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, they're no need to avoid causing a panic when there are alien starships overhead, threatening to scorch the entire planet. Ironwood grimly thought. Thankfully, he had been in the right place to stop them, but it had still shaken his confidence in the Marines a bit.

Thankfully, the Marines sharpened up their habits as soon as Lieutenant Jorge took charge of the UNSC forces. Ironwood recognized the incredible respect that the Marines held for the Spartan, it was as if his very presence was an inspiration for them.

Another series of rounds fired from the howitzers, and Ironwood was astonished at the forces that he felt wash over him. Normally, he wouldn't have much of a reason to stand next to the constantly firing guns, but the din of the artillery offered a perfect layer of security that he could use to talk discreetly with Ozpin. Of course, he made an extra effort to speak quietly and keep his distance from everyone around him regardless, one could never be too careful.

Ironwood had meant to contact Ozpin some time ago, but he'd been extremely busy after the Battle of Argus, and finding a moment of privacy aboard the Dominion had been nigh-impossible. Thankfully, the reception on Vytal was very good, thanks not only due to the presence of the Dominion, but also a local relay tower, allowing him to call Ozpin on his personal scroll.

Mercifully, it did not take long for him to answer. "Ozpin."

"James, it's good to hear from you. I was beginning to think something had gone wrong." Ozpin said. "Everything is alright, isn't it?"

Ironwood took a deep breath as he searched for the right words to say, but eventually decided to just keep things simple. "I'm sorry Ozpin, I've been busy since the battle ended, I haven't had a chance to call you… privately."

Thankfully, Ozpin seemed to understand the deeper connotations behind his statement perfectly. "Well, I suppose what's done is done. Thankfully, the news was kind enough to fill me in on the Battle, apparently Atlas and the UNSC really saved the day, and by quite the wide margin."

He'll want to know about how the battle really went. Ironwood thought. "There were a few moments where it looked like things were going to get… dangerous. The UNSC weren't expecting the Grimm to deploy advanced strategies, and they paid dearly for it."

He still wasn't entirely certain as to whether or not he was being eavesdropped upon, either by the UNSC or otherwise, and so he took care to keep his words vague.

"Hmm, I'm truly sorry to hear that." Ozpin replied.

Things could have been different. Ironwood wanted to voice his frustrations with keeping the truth of Salem from the UNSC, but kept his thoughts to himself. Ultimately, he agreed that Ozpin's precautions were certainly justified, given all of the things that could go wrong if the UNSC had held more nefarious intentions. Until very recently, neither Ironwood nor Ozpin had any reason to take the UNSC at their word when they claimed to want to defend humanity.

But what none of them could have expected was for the UNSC to be forced into a pitched battle to defend Argus, one that had cost the Interstellar Military Force a great many men and women. And there was no denying that perhaps if Ironwood had told Commander Richard what was really going on, that the Grimm were being commanded from afar by an intelligent leader, then maybe some lives would have been saved.

But all of that was in the past, Ironwood had remained silent, and he'd permitted the alien soldiers to die on behalf of Argus and Atlas. It made him sick to his stomach every time he thought about it, and truth be told, he doubted that he would do it again if given the chance, Ozpin's instructions be damned.

Ozpin tried to say something else, but it was drowned out by the sound of the artillery firing again. "What is… is that gunfire?"

"It's nothing to worry about. The UNSC are using some of their heavy guns to clear away the Grimm in preparation for the Vytal Conference." Ironwood explained. "The local Huntsmen were a bit upset that they're losing out on the bounties, but we both know the Grimm will come right back as soon as everyone heads home."

"That is unfortunately true." Ozpin said. There was a momentary pause before he spoke again, this time with a great deal more curiosity in his voice. "Tell me, what do you think of the UNSC's Leader, now that you've fought alongside him?"

Ironwood had already thought the answer over a great deal, in fact, he had placed his trust in Commander Richard even before the Battle of Argus had happened. It wasn't hard to guess why Ozpin was asking, if Richard could be brought into the fight as an ally against Salem, he and the UNSC would no doubt be utterly invaluable.

There was little doubt in Ironwood's mind as he gave his answer. "We would be fools if we kept Commander Miller in the dark any longer, I'm convinced that he genuinely has mankind's best interests at heart."

Even if it's weighing on him quite heavily. Ironwood silently added. He'd noticed more than a few familiarities in Richard's behavior, all of them pointing to the man being quite weary of war. In many ways, Richard's mannerisms were very similar to those of Ozpin, but somehow a bit less refined. I suppose he hasn't been alive for as long as Ozpin has.

"I see." Ozpin said. "And his crew?"

Ironwood softly shook his head, even though he knew Ozpin was hundreds of miles away. "While his senior officers are very capable people in their own rights, inducting his entire crew would be a mistake. We cannot trust that many people to keep their lips sealed."

Ironwood could practically sense Ozpin's relief. "I'm glad you agree. Even after the Battle of Argus, we cannot entrust hundreds of soldiers with secrets that could kill millions if they were to come out."

There was a pause as the artillery fired once more, and Ozpin waited until the worst of the sound had dissipated.

"As for Commander Richard, we can bring him into the fold during the Vytal Conference. There will be plenty of opportunities for us to speak to him privately." Ozpin stated. There was definitely a hint of skepticism in his voice, but Ironwood didn't honestly blame him.

If we're wrong about Richard, if he's a different man than we think he is, a lot of people are going to die. Ironwood thought. In spite of his morbid thoughts, he let out a sigh of relief, he was confident that this was the correct decision to make. "Don't worry Ozpin, you can trust me… you can trust both of us."

There was a moment of silence before Ozpin replied. "I know. I'll be seeing you in a couple days, stay safe."

Ozpin hung up the line, and Ironwood pocketed his scroll. For the first time since the Battle of Argus had ended, he was confident in the future.

UNSC Dominion, Barracks

October 18th, 1944 Local Time, 2552

Now that Yu was free to walk around on her own, she was feeling a lot better. Even if her lung ached constantly and occasionally felt like it was burning when she breathed, she was more than capable of toughing out the pain. This wasn't the first time she had been wounded, and odds were good that it wouldn't be the last. She was recovering much more quickly than was expected of her, but healing quickly hadn't helped with what was bothering her.

During the Battle of Argus, she'd been forced to sit and listen as the sounds of gunfire and explosions echoed throughout the Dominion, and watch as Sickbay steadily filled up with wounded Marines, Atlesians, and civilians. It was terrible, knowing that her friends and comrades were fighting a ferocious battle to the death with the Grimm, and not being able to do anything to help them. She'd originally joined the Marines out of a sense of hopelessness and unworthiness, and her experience in Sickbay had resurfaced those feelings.

Still, she wasn't dumb enough to assume that she could have helped, she recognized the reality of being wounded. Her lung still felt like a brick of lead in her chest anytime she did anything remotely strenuous, hell, she couldn't even talk for extended periods of time. If she were forced into any kind of combat in her current condition, she would just get herself killed, and be a danger to her squadmates, who would be forced to focus on protecting her instead of themselves.

So when the Doctor officially cleared her to leave Sickbay, she'd been quite happy to hear it. Her first thought had been to go find Fairfire in the Barracks and check in with the squad, when she remembered the brutal truth of how she had ended up in Sickbay in the first place.

Right… The memory of her talk with Ben in the armory, as well as the furious debate between Meadows and Nathan had come back to her all at once. Now she sat in a chair in the Barracks, trying to figure out what to do next.

Truth be told, she didn't really know how to feel about what Fairfire had done. Obviously there were a million things that were wrong with murdering a prisoner of war in cold blood, especially one that had turned out to be innocent. On the other hand, there was some debate as to whether or not Fairfire had been forced to act by her Semblance, and could Yu really blame Fairfire if she hadn't even been in control of her own body?

This damn planet is the worst thing that's happened to our whole squad. One of us is going to die to something we couldn't have seen coming, what the hell can we even do? Yu bitterly thought.

There was also the distinct possibility that Fairfire had actually been in complete control of her actions, and that she was just using her Semblance as an excuse to get away with the crime. The crew of the Dominion certainly placed some confidence in that rumor, but frankly, Yu didn't buy it. Fairfire could certainly be a very volatile person, but she was always in control of herself on the battlefield, on more than one occasion, she had single-handedly controlled the entire battlefield itself. Over those years of fighting, she'd never once lost her nerve in the field, so why would she start now?

"You should probably just ask her about it." She remembered Ben suggesting, as if it was that easy. What the hell was she supposed to say? "Hey Liz, you didn't mean it when you tried to shoot that innocent guy and indirectly got me shot by a sniper, right?"

With a hefty sigh, she elected to give it a shot, it wasn't like she had any better options. Hoping to get some directions, Yu made her way to the nearest holotank. "Hey Curie, do you have any idea where Fairfire is?"

Yu was only met with silence from the dormant pedestal. She's probably with Ben, wherever the hell he is.

Thankfully, the squad roster had Fairfire listed as working in the Starboard Armory. Yu made her way there from the Barracks, occasionally pausing for a minute to rest. Walking for too long made her lung burn, and it felt as if she was being stabbed with dozens of tiny needles all over her chest. When she reached the Armory Bulkhead, she gave it a few loud knocks, before opening the large armored door.

Contrary to what Yu had expected, Fairfire wasn't working on weapons or anything of the sort. Instead, she was sitting besides Nathan, and seemed to be performing some kind of meditative exercise under the guidance of Specialist Schnee, who did not look very happy to see her.

"Corporal Sato, you are interrupting our Semblance lessons." Winter said, her brow furrowing with immense irritation.

"I just had a few-" Yu began to say, before very quickly finding herself out of breath.

Apparently opening the bulkhead had taken a bit more effort than she had realized, and as she clutched her chest in sudden pain, she nearly collapsed to the ground, but was able to catch herself using the doors locking wheel. Everyone in the armory stopped whatever it was that they were doing and rushed towards her, but nobody was faster than Fairfire.

"Yu!" Fairfire helped bring Yu back up to a proper standing position. "Are you okay?"

Yu gave a thumbs-up, and after a few moments of deep breathing, gave a shaky answer between breaths. "Yeah, just uh… whoo, that was heavy, need a minute."

"You're still recovering, you need to take it easy!" Fairfire practically shouted, before seemingly realizing that she was being too loud. "Sorry, didn't mean to scream at you."

"No… problem." Yu was still a little dizzy, so she hadn't even noticed. After another moment of recovering, she felt good enough to start talking again. "I wanted to ask you a few questions. About what happened in Atlas."

Fairfire visibly recoiled, and took a step back from the bulkhead, her eyes wide with fear and regret. "I uh… I… can't. Specialist Schnee is teaching Nathan and I how to use our Semblances."

Yu raised an eyebrow in surprise, it wasn't like Fairfire to make petty excuses, especially not bad ones. It seemed that Winter had also caught onto Fairfire's intentions, and from the way that Winter's eyes rolled in annoyance, Yu deduced that she was not impressed.

"Actually, I see no reason why Corporal Sato couldn't join us, she is your squadmate after all." Winter interjected."While you and Nathan practice with your Semblances, perhaps Corporal Sato can attempt to find hers."

A bolt of unexpected fear ran down Yu's spine at the proposal, that was the exact opposite of what she wanted to do. Ever since Fairfire's Semblance had made her go all kill-crazy, she'd been scared to hell and back as to what her own Semblance would do to her. It also didn't help that it was apparently tied to your soul, which was something that Yu had zero interest in messing with. It didn't matter if she got a badass superpower if she got herself killed in the process of learning how to use it.

"I really shouldn't. My lung still hurts, the doctors haven't even cleared me for duty yet." Yu weakly offered, but from the expression that Winter gave her, it was clear that she wasn't convinced. Nathan meanwhile, was clearly doing his best to not stare at the monumentally awkward situation that she had somehow gotten into. "But uh, if you wanted me to go, I can get out of your hair-"

Winter waved her hand to interrupt. "Corporal Sato I can assure you, this is not going to be a strenuous activity, it could even help with your healing. And Sergeant Fairfire, I believe that you should stop making excuses and take responsibility for your actions, whether they were Semblance driven or not."

Fairfire flinched at Winter's words, but gave a firm nod regardless. "...Yes Ma'am."

Winter stared expectantly at Corporal Sato for another few seconds while she struggled to find some kind of excuse. Technically, Winter didn't really have any authority over her, but in the moment, it felt like she did.

Thankfully, her excuse came in a very unexpected form, as someone else approached her from down the corridor. "Corporal Sato, I need to speak with you for a moment."

She almost let out a sigh of relief, but when she turned around, she found herself face-to-face with Lieutenant Commander Bradford, whom she only knew as being the ship's XO. Oh hell, I fucked something up, didn't I?

"Yes Sir." Yu responded. She looked back to Winter for a moment, and mercifully, received a silent nod of approval. Well, at least I don't have to worry about that… but I'm still going to have to talk to Liz later.

Bradford helped her seal the bulkhead once again, and as soon as it was closed, she straightened up her posture as best as she could. "Did you need something from me, Sir?"

"Maybe." Bradford answered, doing nothing to ease her fears. "Your file lists you as having some experience in software engineering, is that correct?"

"What?" Yu asked in surprise. She had fully expected to have inadvertently made some kind of mistake, but apparently she hadn't. "I mean, Yes Sir. I got an Associates Degree before I joined the Corps."

She saw no reason to elaborate on all of the reasons why she had abandoned her earlier course in life and joined the Marines, they were hardly relevant, hopefully.

Bradford gave her a grateful nod. "Good, walk with me please. We have a very delicate situation developing, and I'm going to need your help…"

Evernight Castle

October 18th, 1823 Local Time, 2552

Doctor Arthur Watts worked absolutely tirelessly, now that he finally had examples of genuine alien technology, he could learn so many things about Salem's newfound enemy. His Lab was filled with dozens of incomplete projects and prototypes of his own design, and he had little doubt that the knowledge he gained from the UNSC's equipment would help to complete at least some of them.

One of Salem's Grimm servants brought him another mug of coffee, which he gulped down with little regard for grace or dignity, it wasn't like he was trying to impress the soulless butlers. Coffee was just like the UNSC datapad in his hand, a means to an end. As for what that end was? Well, that wasn't his problem, it was his job was to give Salem the means to achieve her goals, nothing more.

He had predicted that the datapad would behave like a scroll in function, and he was more right than he could have guessed. It turned out what he had in his hand was effectively the UNSC's equivalent of a personalized laptop, complete with the personal files and photos of the now-deceased Marine who had once owned it, one PFC. Jerome P. Wallace.

On one hand, he was impressed with his own capabilities to infiltrate the alien computer system without the files deleting themselves. But on the other hand, the security measures on the military-model 'Tacpads' were likely considerably more robust. While undeniably an accomplishment, it was not quite the resounding technological leap he had anticipated. At the very least, Watts had a brand new personal computer, one that was far more functioning than an aging scroll.

Salem will not be pleased at the lack of progress. Watts thought with a frown. Technically, it was Tyrian's fault for bringing in the wrong damn computer, but that was hardly going to help Salem achieve her goals. Perhaps Private Wallace's personal data has something useful?

With a heavy sigh, he set the datapad aside, that was a project for tomorrow. He'd also made very little progress with the Submachine Gun or the radio, but the final object, the mysterious electronic device, had exceeded his wildest hopes. Initially, Doctor Watts had no idea what he was looking at, but after carefully cracking it open and taking a peek inside, he discovered that it was a field-rated power cell, or in layman's terms, a battery.

While practically anyone else on Remnant would have been disappointed by the discovery, Doctor Watts had been overjoyed. Electrical power had been a major limitation on his genius for so long, and now many of his inventions were all possible, because of one tiny battery the size of a coffee mug. From next generation combat drones, all the way down to the prototype electrical rifle he had worked on a decade ago, now he could power them all.

It seemed that the UNSC took their electronics very seriously, so it was unsurprising that they would have such a capable reservoir for electric power behind so many of their devices. The small battery that Tyrian had recovered could hold a thousand times more energy than an Atlesian battery of similar size and design, and thanks to his extensive experience working in the field, he had quickly discovered how the UNSC had managed to fit so much power into such a small package, and that meant that he could make more, given enough time.

What kind of power generation could they possibly have to produce such incredible measures of energy? Watts wondered. If the UNSC was using something so powerful to recharge equipment in the field, it begged the question of what exactly it was that they were recharging. Their powered armor perhaps? Or maybe that Laser Cannon…

It didn't matter much now, many of his limitations were now gone, and that was all that mattered. With a grand smile of victory, he grabbed a set of blank blueprints and got to work.