UNSC Dominion, War Room
November 8th, 1423 Local Time, 2552
In spite of the UNSC's recent successes, Richard felt truly exhausted. The closest thing that he had to a break anymore was making trips to the coffee machine, something made all the more frequent thanks to his difficulty sleeping.
Last night he'd had a familiar nightmare, although it was one that he hadn't had for over a decade. The bridge of a Prowler, the surface of an Outer Colony, a blossoming cluster of atomic fireballs… and the fiery, ash rain. Even thinking about it made him anxious. Truth be told, he had never truly come to terms with what happened on that day, and he doubted that he ever would. It was something that he was sure would stick with him until the day he died.
He was so exhausted that he nearly jumped in surprise when Winter entered the War Room, clutching her Scroll. "Commander, I have a new message from our informant in the White Fang."
Faster than I was expecting. Ever since the White Fang's failed assault several days ago, there had been no sign of Silver. Richard wasn't worried, as Silver, whoever they were, didn't seem foolish enough to risk getting detected just for the sake of delivering an unimportant message. In fact, the more that he thought about it, the more he realized that Silver's methods hinted towards him receiving some kind of special training. Winter didn't seem to think that they were related to the Atlas Military… Maybe they're one of Ozpin's agents, or they work for one of the other Kingdoms. It's not like they could just ignore the White Fang entirely.
"Let's hear it then." He said.
Winter placed the device on the holotable in the middle of the room and hit play. Immediately, Richard noticed that there was something different about this message, unlike all of the previous ones, there were no visuals, only a black screen and audio.
"Your mission was a success, Commander, but she and a number of her forces were able to escape undetected. She and Sienna are both suspicious of a spy but have no concrete leads for the time being. My cover is safe for now."
Richard bit back a curse, that was the last thing that he wanted to hear. If the UNSC lost Silver, taking down the White Fang wouldn't become impossible, but it would become a lot harder. He hadn't personally experienced much of Operation Trebuchet, but the instructors at ONI had made it painfully clear that low-tech guerilla warfare was far from obsolete. That had been while the UNSC had fleets and battalions at their disposal, not a single escort ship and a badly battered company of Marines.
"Determining the locations of additional White Fang Encampments has been difficult, even the one that I'm stationed in, but I am making progress. Once I have reliable information, I will relay it." Silver continued. "For the moment, however, it appears that Sienna Khan is not interested in further offensives, despite the protests of her subordinates. If the UNSC is planning any kind of counterattack, now would be an excellent time to strike."
Richard made a mental note to forward Silver's message to Captain Clark. Even if they didn't know where the White Fang were hiding, that didn't mean they couldn't step up their searches.
"There's one more thing that might be of interest to you." Silver said. "Two men arrived in Sienna Khan's camp several days ago, Doctor Arthur Watts and Tyrian Callows, Atlas should have suitable records on both of them."
At the drop of the second name, Richard immediately felt the blood drain from his face. Callows was working with the White Fang?
"From what I can gather, Tyrian is currently training new recruits for the White Fang, and the Doctor is providing medical expertise for their wounded." Silver continued. "Their motives are a mystery, even to Sienna Khan. I will continue my efforts to uncover more about them."
The message ended, and Richard felt a cold rush of dread spread throughout his blood. It seemed that General Ironwood's theory was correct, Salem had been working with, or perhaps even manipulating, the White Fang. Even after she had been destroyed, along with her base of operations, it seemed that her agents were no less deterred from carrying on their master's orders.
"Arthur Watts is working with the White Fang?" Winter spoke up. Evidently, she recognized the name. "That doesn't make any sense… He was an Atlesian scientist, he died years ago in a freak accident."
"Apparently, that's just what he wants you to think." Richard muttered. "Dot, schedule a conference for later today. I need to speak with Chieftain Belladonna, Headmaster Ozpin, and General Ironwood."
"Aye, Commander." The AI dutifully replied.
Winter looked at him with a perplexed expression. "If you don't mind me asking Commander, what exactly are you hoping to discuss?"
Briefly, Richard considered telling Winter the truth about Salem. She was certainly a valuable, trustworthy ally, but with Salem dead, there was little point in bringing her in, so he answered with a half-truth. "An offensive."
With Salem's involvement confirmed, it's high time that we stop holding back. He thought.
Whatever she was planning, we have to put a stop to it.
Alfred Wilson Planetary Headquarters, Airspace
November 8th, 1514 Local Time, 2552
Ilia wasn't afraid of heights, at least, not normally. She had traveled a lot throughout her life, visited all manner of places that were high above sea level, and even rode in airships. None of that quite compared to sitting in the back of a UNSC Albatross, glancing nervously at the cargo back door, painfully aware of what she would be tasked to do.
She, along with a few of the other candidates, had made the mistake of performing perhaps a bit too well. As a result, they had been selected for some "special" courses, one of which was a specialized form of parachute jumping, called HALO. It involved jumping from so high up in the air that everybody had to wear an oxygen mask due to the thinning atmosphere, and a heavy black suit that covered most of their bodies to keep them warm.
I think it's perfectly rational to be afraid of this. Ilia thought. She had never even been this high up before, let alone jumped out of an alien dropship at such an altitude.
Beside the cargo bay door stood Gunnery Sergeant Moerdani, who was giving the cadets some last-minute reminders about what to do when in the air. He was only repeating what Ilia had already been told while she was still on the ground, but given the potential risks of failure, she could understand why their instructions were being repeated.
"Do not, under any circumstances, pull your chute while not in the appropriate stance!" He said. "If you do, the wires will tangle around your body, and you will go home in a soup can!" He paused as they all stared at him in silence. "That was a joke, marines. Laugh."
He certainly knows how to motivate. She thought, trying to suppress that particular mental image.
"Now, if nobody else has any questions, let's get this show on the road!" Moerdani shouted.
In one dramatic gesture, he threw the lever that he was standing beside, and the cargo bay door began to slowly open. All of the recruits recoiled as the temperature plummeted and the howling winds outside drowned out anything but a few panicked cries.
"Easy there, Cadets, it's just the wind!" Moerdani said. "Now's a good time to fasten your suits if you haven't already, the cold up here is no joke!"
Even with the bulky, black paratrooper's outfit that Ilia had been given, she felt as though she was in a freezer. Her face and her ears stung after only seconds of exposure to the bitter elements, and she felt slightly nauseous as she and the rest of the cadets began to steadily advance towards the door.
There's no way I'm actually doing this. This is insane, what kind of madman would just throw themselves out of an airship from this high up?
Moerdani, of course, looked at them all with a deceptively friendly smile. "If anybody's getting cold feet, it ain't too late to back out now! You can take the Albatross back down with me if you'd like. Of course, if you do that, I'm afraid you'll be disqualified."
By now, they were all wise enough not to reply. A few recruits had tried backsassing the drill instructors early on in the training. Suffice to say, they had all regretted their decisions. Knowing Moerdani, he would probably have thrown any particularly snarky cadets out of the back of the Albatross himself.
"Now, I'm going to begin the countdown!" Moerdani shouted. "As soon as that light goes green, don't hesitate, just jump!"
A dim amber light filled the cargo bay, and for not the first time, Ilia wondered if perhaps it really wouldn't be so bad to get kicked out of training. Sure, she'd be disappointing Mags, but she wasn't eager to get herself killed either.
I wish that Blake had taken me with her, she doesn't have any issue with heights, she'd be perfect for this. Ilia thought. She could remember all sorts of occasions where Blake had used Gambol Shroud to practically fly. She made it look so easy…
The light switched to green, and immediately, the first man in line leapt into the air, disappearing pretty much immediately as gravity took him. The second man paused at the very edge, and was pulled aside by Moerdani. "Not good enough! To the front of the dropship with you, next!"
Ilia watched nervously as the fourth cadet in line leapt into the air. She was confident enough in her nerves that she figured she could stomach the jump, but could she really do so without even the littlest bit of hesitation? Again, her thoughts lingered around Blake, she'd never seemed to hesitate before performing some crazy and dangerous feat of high-flying acrobatics.
The fifth recruit vanished into the sky, only one more person stood between Ilia and the edge of the dropship, and she could feel a horrible sinking feeling in her gut. Come on Ilia, don't back out now. If Blake could do this, so could you!
The sixth cadet went over the edge, and it was finally time for Ilia to act. She stepped onto the very precipice of the deck, and with closed eyes, took that final step into the air.
She fell into a roll almost immediately, and as adrenaline flooded her body, she was surprised to find how easy it was to control her panic. It was almost like being in a battle, only this time, there were no Grimm or Humans trying to kill her.
Following the instructions that she had been given on the ground, she spread her legs and arms out, and her uncontrolled roll ground to a halt. Now, she could see straight down at the passing clouds, and just barely, she could make out a few other specks below her, which must have been the other trainees.
The moment that she brought her fall under control, something very strange happened. It was like all of the anxiety and panic that she had been feeling was simply lifted from her shoulders. She wasn't relaxed, but at the same time, she didn't feel as though she was truly in danger. It was almost like she was a kid again, riding carnival rides with her family.
The wind whipping past her helmet and pressing against her body felt as if a set of arms had wrapped themselves around her, almost comforting in a paradoxical way. Plummeting to one's potential death should not have offered her such solace, but be it the sense of personal accomplishment or the adrenaline, Ilia didn't care to think about it. She reveled in the continued sensation as her attention sharpened to the fact that the ground began to grow much closer.
With one solid tug, she pulled the ripcord of her parachute, which sprang open in an instant. The sudden change of velocity was surprisingly painful, and the straps of the parachute under her arms were very uncomfortable, but it was nothing that she couldn't handle.
After a few minutes of steadily descending, she touched down in the parade grounds, where she found her fellow recruits celebrating and jovially laughing at the feeling of solid ground beneath their feet again.
No wonder Blake likes to fly so much, that was fun! Ilia thought, as she too burst into a celebratory fit of laughter. I wonder if Moerdani will let us go again?
UNSC Dominion, Sickbay
November 8th, 1557 Local Time, 2552
"For the last time, Doctor, I feel fine." Ben said, his patience steadily wearing thin as Doctor Chase examined his healing wounds.
It was only natural that he didn't get along with everybody that he met, especially given the fact that she was the only obstacle standing between him and active duty. Curie's experiments and research had been a nice distraction from the boredom, but he knew as well as she did that the UNSC needed every man they could get in the field.
"Oh, I don't doubt that." Chase replied, her own voice fraught with exhaustion. She had made it no secret that she was as fed up with him as he was with her. "Feelings, however, are hardly indicative of your actual condition. So stop fidgeting, and let's see those stitches."
Ben dutifully obeyed, and she quickly went to work examining how the exterior of his body was healing. His lung was nearly totally recovered, but his muscles and ribs were a different story. They would take months to recover totally, but thankfully, he didn't necessarily need them to fight.
"Oh yeah, this is gonna scar… Then again, you did hit with what might as well have been a plasma sword, I don't think you were ever gonna walk this off." Chase commented. "Don't worry though, there's nothing that ladies love more than a big tough Marine with some battle scars!"
Ben fought the urge to say something that was too insulting, the Doctor might've been a pain in his ass, but she was still his superior officer. "Are you this patronizing with all of your patients?"
"Only my favorites." Chase answered with a wide smile that was in no way genuine. "By the way, you haven't had any bloody noses, have you? Or blood in your urine? Or-"
"Doctor, if I was peeing blood, I would have brought that up earlier." He pointed out. "I want to get out of here, remember? I'm not going to do that by lying to you."
Chase gave a thoughtful hum. "Well, perhaps you're a bit more clever than I gave you credit for. Now, hold out your arm. I've got some stimulants that will help your muscles recover, courtesy of our favorite prisoner."
Ben raised an eyebrow and immediately drew his arm back. "Wait. You're telling me that the Elite… gave you drugs?"
Chase gave him a look that was somehow both bemused and annoyed. "Of course not! What he gave me was this nice little piece of alien technology that has very much helped my dwindling medical supplies. By the way, the next time you get your Smoother Implant, make sure you give him a 'thank you,' because we've only got so many of those from home, but now, I can make more."
Ben resisted the urge to shudder, he knew that he'd been operating on effectively bought time thanks to his Neural Augmentations from the moment that the Dominion had been lost in space. Having that issue solved was a massive weight off his back.. I wonder if Set still would have given her that machine, if he'd known that I needed it so badly.
Doctor Chase gave him the shot, and he didn't offer any further resistance. Even if she was… abrasive, he did trust her to perform her duties as the ship's Chief Medical Officer, personal disagreements be damned.
"There, now that wasn't so bad, was it?" She teasingly commented as she disposed of the contaminated syringe. "Alright, now, I just need you to sign here and here, and you're free to go visit your girlfriend."
He opened his mouth to retaliate, but quickly decided against it. He was finally free of Sickbay, and that meant that he didn't have to deal with the Doctor's teasing any longer. After signing a few forms that officialized his medical discharge, he made his way down to the Armory, and spent half an hour getting his Mjolnir on with the help of some of the Dominion's Engineers. The damage that he'd sustained from his fight with Adam Taurus was now repaired, save for aesthetic damage to the paint.
Finally, ready for some new orders. He thought with a satisfied grin. Almost as if on cue, his HUD alerted him to a transmission from Curie. "Hey there, Curie. How did you know I had my armor back?"
"Ben, you treasure that armor more than your own wellbeing, it was not hard to guess!" Curie replied. "Once you have got a minute, can you stop by the brig? I want to run an experiment with Set and Funk, and the Commander will not approve it without you standing guard."
His grin vanished as worry took hold in his mind, what exactly was she planning that Richard wanted a Spartan on hand? "I'll be right down."
After grabbing a shotgun, magnum, and plenty of spare ammo, he made his way down to the brig where he found the Marines on guard were already waiting for him. They allowed him through, and in Set's cell, he found Curie sitting beside both of the Dominion's aliens on a folding chair. In her hands was the mysterious weapon that she'd been examining for the last few days, and upon seeing it, Ben's feeling of dread only grew. He opened the cell door and walked inside.
"Hello Ben." She said with a broad smile. Set acknowledged his presence with a low grunt, and Funk said nothing.
"Hey Curie. What's the plan here?" Ben asked.
"Well, I have been having very little luck deciphering this weapon, and unfortunately, Funk has been most uncooperative in explaining it." She shot the floating alien squid with a dirty look as she spoke, but the Engineer did not respond. "Then I remembered him mentioning that it was DNA-coded to Set, and so I figure the best bet we have is for him to try and use it."
Although a part of him had expected her answer, Ben was still stunned by the boldness with which she presented it. "...The Commander approved this?"
"I would not have asked you to come here if he did not." She answered. "All we need you to do is stand guard and… make sure that nothing happens."
Like stopping Set from killing you. Ben translated what she was saying into something that he understood.
"Listen to the female construct, Demon." Set added. "If I can help her decipher this weapon, perhaps it will be of some use to you."
Ben looked at the Elite with a mix of doubt and surprise. Why was he just willing to hand over valuable alien technology like this? Even if it was part of some bid to escape, he had to know that he was helping humanity significantly. Unless… he was telling the truth.
"Alright, Curie…" He tentatively said as he took a more relaxed posture. "I trust you."
Without further delay, Curie handed Set the mysterious alien object, which he held in the same manner as an energy sword. Both Ben and Curie stood back as Set took a fighting stance, before giving them a confused look. "How does this work?"
Curie shrugged. "I do not know. That is what I was hoping to find out."
With a grumble of frustration, Set turned to Funk. "Huragok! Instruct us all on this weapon's operation, that is an order!"
"With pleasure." Funk answered in the same monotone voice that he always spoke with. "Most users would simply activate it by instinct. However, because of your uncoded genesong, you must use the ancillary neural activation system."
All of them stared at Funk, expecting some kind of simplification, but none ever came.
"Gahhh, what does that even mean?!" Set demanded.
"Wait, Set, I have an idea." Curie interjected. "Try thinking about turning the weapon on."
Set looked at her like she was crazy, but Ben was following her logic. If Set could summon things by thinking about it, perhaps he could command his weapon to activate in the same manner. He remembered trying the same thing with Curie during one of her earlier experiments, but both of them had failed to get the weapon to do anything, perhaps Set would be a different story.
Once again, Set took a fighting stance, and immediately the weapon came to life. Small metal shapes began to unfold and levitate outwards from around Set's hand, reattaching themselves to the weapon seemingly by their own will, forming a long, curved hilt that looked a bit like an enlarged energy sword grip. That wasn't its only similarity to an energy sword either, as once the grip was done assembling itself, a pair of broad, angular blue blades roared to life. At a glance, they resembled the same gaseous blades of an energy sword, but to a trained eye, the difference was obvious.
"Hardlight…" Set muttered. "By the tides of Suban… this is a weapon of the Gods themselves!"
"I'm pretty sure that was one of the few things that we actually knew." Ben pointed out. "So… does it work like a normal energy sword?"
He turned to Curie, and saw that she was positively beaming with excitement. "There is only one way to find out!"
She reached forward and grabbed the folding chair that she had been sitting on previously, and moved it in front of Set. "Here, try striking this. Let us see if it has the same cutting power as your own swords."
Set waited for Curie to get her distance once more, before making an underhand slice at the chair, bisecting it with ease. Curie laughed with delight at the display. "Excellent!"
Similarly, Ben couldn't help but be impressed at just how clean the cut was. None of the typical ridging and imperfections of an energy sword's cut were present, it was as if the chair had been cut with a precise tool, like a plasma torch. "Impressive, look at how smooth it was."
Set looked at the weapon in his hand with newfound reverence. "Smooth indeed… Now, Funk, can the Humans use this blade?"
"No." Funk bluntly answered.
"No?!" Set demanded. As he spoke, the weapon turned itself off, probably at Set's command. As it folded back into itself, Ben couldn't help but be reminded of Ruby's Sniper-Rifle Scythe weapon "Then… perhaps you can fix it?"
"It is not broken." Funk calmly replied. "The weapon is yours, and yours alone, Warrior."
"But… argh!" Set yelled, before throwing his hands up in defeat and sitting back down on his bed. "Damnation! Then what was the point of all of this effort?! When will I ever need a weapon within this cell?!"
Ben and Curie quietly watched as Set calmed himself down, and when Curie looked at him with a guilty expression, Ben realized something that surprised even himself. Set was genuinely upset at his failure to help them, and Ben wholeheartedly trusted the Elite's intentions.
UNSC Dominion, War Room
November 8th, 1821 Local Time, 2552
As it turned out, trying to assemble three of the most powerful men on that planet for a meeting that lined up with all of the schedules, on a very short notice no less, was a bit of a headache. Nevertheless, Dot pulled through, and Richard found himself in a group video call with Ozpin, Ironwood, and Chieftain Belladonna. Richard had made sure that all of them were sent the latest report from Silver so that all of them wouldn't need to be brought up to speed.
"It's good to see you, Commander, I only wish it were under better circumstances." Ironwood said with a scowl.
"Believe me, James, we all do." Ozpin said. His expression betrayed nothing, but his posture remained tense, betraying how he felt about the revelation. "But now we know the truth. Salem must have had control over the White Fang prior to her destruction."
Ghira understandably looked the most nerve-wracked out of all of them, but even so, Richard found the man's poker face to be nothing short of excellent. "Are we positive that she's dead? Headmaster, you said that you've dropped a mountain on her before, if she could survive that…"
"We're positive. We dropped enough ordinance on her castle to crush an entire battlegroup." Richard answered. "Nothing short of a Covenant Carrier could've taken a barrage like that and lived."
Ghira nodded, but Richard noticed that he didn't seem to take any relief from his claims. It wasn't hard to blame him either, if Salem's capabilities were truly anything like Ozpin claimed, then he had every reason to be afraid.
"Regardless of whether or not Salem is still alive, her plans for Menagerie need to be stopped, and that means defeating the White Fang." Ozpin stated. "Commander, how are your efforts going on that front?"
Richard filed away a mental note to keep Ozpin in the loop in the future. Shady or not, he was an ally who needed to be up to speed with everything that was going on. "Well enough. We've yet to suffer a single defeat, but we've also been unable to achieve the crushing blow that I was hoping for. Now we're in a war of attrition, one that I'm confident we can win, given enough time."
"On that note…" Ironwood interjected. "Chieftain, have you reconsidered my offer to station Atlesian Troops in Menagerie?"
Ghira shook his head. "As I said, General, it's hardly my choice to make. The fact is that Atlas is very… unpopular, amongst my people. If your troops came here, it would be seen as an occupation, and the White Fang's ranks would swell tenfold."
"The Chieftain is right, James. This is just as much a battle of public opinion as it is a war." Ozpin added. "Your forces would be put to much better use against the Grimm."
Ironwood was clearly dissatisfied, but remained silent, no doubt thinking the same things that Richard was. Regardless of how good a point Ozpin and Ghira made, it was incredibly frustrating to have an army that simply couldn't be put to use. There's got to be something that Atlas could send us… or someone.
"What about Winter? Surely she'd be welcome in Menagerie." Richard proposed.
"Winter? What about her?" Ironwood asked.
"Winter? As in, Winter Schnee?" Ghira asked.
"The same." Richard answered. "I recall that she personally led the operation to bring her father into custody, on live TV no less."
Ironwood's eyes lit up. Clearly, he had caught onto Richard's line of thinking. "I would approve it, if the Chieftain is willing to have her in his country. Perhaps the people of Menagerie would change their views towards Atlas, if they had the opportunity to see one of our finest firsthand."
Ghira pondered it for a moment, but eventually nodded. "Very well, you both make excellent points. Perhaps this is a good start towards improving our people's opinions of one another."
I certainly hope so. Richard thought. Truth be told, he was well and truly exasperated by the fact that the UNSC's two greatest allies were bitter rivals. Ironwood and Ghira were both professionals, but it was painfully obvious that there was a myriad of unsettled issues between them. "It's settled then, Winter will join the Task Force in Menagerie. We'll make an effort to prioritize eliminating or capturing Salem's agents, but protecting the civilian population will need to remain our top priority."
"On that note…" Ozpin interjected. "I'd like to prioritize the completion of the new Huntsmen Academy in Kuo Kuana as soon as possible. I'm sure that with some extra funding, we could get some new Huntsmen in the field within the decade. Perhaps it won't help with this conflict, but it might help alleviate the next one."
In spite of the grudge that Richard held against Ozpin, he had to give the man credit, he tended to be very forward-thinking. At least, when he actually had the proper information to work with. "Good thinking. I'll talk to Lieutenant Oswald and see if the other Councils would be willing to-"
He was interrupted by the sound of a distant gunshot. At first, he thought that it might be from somewhere else aboard the Dominion, but seeing Ghira's surprised and concerned reaction made it clear where the sound had come from. More gunshots rang out, followed by a louder explosion. A chill ran down Richard's spine as he recognized the distinct report of a Battle Rifle amid the sounds.
"Chieftain, what's going on?" Ironwood asked.
"I'm not sure." Ghira admitted. "Hang on, I'll be right-"
He was interrupted as the door behind him swung open, and Kali Belladonna rushed in. "Ghira, come quickly, the Grimm are attacking!"
Author's notes: Hey again, sorry about the slow progress, I promise I did truly mean to be quicker. Truth is, I've just been having a lot of personal issues lately that have been slowing me down, health related (not dying, don't worry). I wouldn't say that you should expect a big hiatus, but things might be a bit slower until I can get some stuff in the real world sorted.