LOCATION: UNSC COLONY ON LUNA – UNSC SOL SECONDARY NAVAL SHIPYARD
/JUN-19-2533 SOL/ 1150 Universal Time/
Admiral Mitchell set aside the Security Councils response with a sign of relief. He had a lot riding on the success of Operation Indianapolis. Months of planning and years of fighting a one-sided war against the Covenant had been the fuel he needed to make sure everything fell into place. A small smile crossed his lips as he folded his hands and leaned forward onto the mahogany desk in front of him, his chair creaking from years of use. "You were right about one thing Robert", he said to no one in particular. The only living thing in his office was a parrot that was gifted to him by a delegation from the planet Reach. "One way or another, I am going to see this mission through. I'm grateful for the stamp of approval however". Such thoughts were borderline treason in the UNSC and he was well aware the many risks this mission would entail.
Removing himself from his thoughts, he glanced over to the second letter file sitting on his desk. The cover read 'CLASSIFICATION: NOVEMBER BLACK' printed top center of the folder. In smaller print, it was addressed to him along with a bunch of other UNSC identification mumbo jumbo that he really didn't care to pay much attention to. Mitchell was glad he had read the Security Councils response before he opened the letter from ONI. He wanted to get their reply, thankfully it had been good news. But deep down, he was simply stalling. To be honest with himself, ONI Section 3 scared the shit out of Mitchell. No one ever knew anything more than what ONI wanted them to, and those who did tended to disappear. He couldn't begin to list the number of investigations that were ongoing or pending approval over some controversial move ONI had allegedly made. Nor could he hope to list the number of those investigations that would fall flat either through some political weaseling or assassination performed by the organization in question. In the UNSC, you couldn't get away with much. That didn't apply to ONI, and even more so to Section 3. That is what scared him and everyone he knew. And as if to rub salt on his embarrassment, it seemed the agents sent by Section 3 knew it too. Mitchell grumbled as he snatched the letter from his desk. If he couldn't rough up those smug agents, he'd rough up the letters they would clandestinely hand him.
Once satisfied with his imaginary strangle session, he opened the letter. As per usual, the document was vague, but direct and to the point. His eyes scanned the letter in question, reading each word as though they had hidden meaning. Oddly enough however, the subject of the document was not as frustrating or stress inducing as those before it had been. Instead of ONI making demands for control over one portion of the Operation or telling him to make a change to another. Mitchell was surprised to see that the letter was a request for him to choose one of three candidates that ONI had narrowed down to be the Commanding Officer of the UNSC Forever Vigilant. He pushed away the memory of how he had originally planned for himself sit in its Captains chair. But once again, in a letter before the one he held in his hands, ONI had made a change to that detail. They had wanted to instill a captain of their choosing, but Mitchell had argued them down to giving him the final decision. Something that Mitchell was pleasantly surprised to see they upheld in the letter he was holding.
To his greater surprise, all 3 of the candidates in this letter were young. Much too young to captain a Marathon-Class cruiser that usually required one to first have held the rank of Commander or Captain in the Navy for several years. These 3 candidates presented before him were each mere Lieutenants! Under normal circumstances, Mitchell would have sent this letter back through the pipeline demanding a correction be made. But that wasn't going to be the case here. ONI knew what they wanted, and in the words of his good friend Robert. They'd get it with or without his approval.
Mitchell sighed in defeat as he read over the Personnel Files. The first candidate was 32 years of age, and boasted a remarkable service record. Mitchell was pleased to see that the young woman was already part of the 12th fleet, currently serving aboard the destroyer the UNSC Midwinter. Upon inspection of the other two files, he noticed that the other candidates were also serving with the 12th fleet. At least ONI was keeping familiar eggs with the same hens. The second candidate was a little more promising to Mitchell. He was 35 years of age and had been in the service a few years more. His commendations record boasted a man of good standing and fair leadership. The third profile was much of the same, with the candidate being about 33 years of age, and a Lieutenant serving aboard the frigate the UNSC Can't Touch This. Mitchells eyes went back and forth over each candidate's profile for a few moments until something on the second profile caught his eye. The name on the profile read, 'Oliver, Daniel M.'. Why did that name ring a bell? Thinking back to notable personnel within his fleet, he began trying to find a reason the name sounded so familiar. It took a few moments of the Admiral blankly staring into space before a squawk from his beloved parrot brought him back to reality. He looked at the brilliantly colored bird as it ruffled its feathers and bobbed its head in his direction. Admiral Mitchell looked at the time on display next to the bird, reading it to be 1145. "It's coming up on lunch time isn't it Jasper"?
The Parrot gave another squawk before replying, "Time for grub".
Admiral Mitchell loved his bird, he was proud of the few phrases it knew to say. He had been gifted it several years ago on a trip to the planet Reach for an annual security conference with the Epsilon Eridani Fleet. Since then, he and the bird have bonded closely. Even his grandchildren cooed over the bird and gorged him with treats whenever they came to visit. Mitchell got up from his chair and began walking towards the Parrot as it continued bobbing its head at him. He had given the bird a good home, and even the unofficial title of Commandant of Aviation (an idea by his grandchildren) at the office he was currently working while his fleet underwent repair. The bird was perched on a faux tree that gave him an eye level view with the Admiral. As the Admiral began petting his bird, he spoke to it. "Why does that name ring a bell Jasper, hmm"? the bird merely soaked up the affection. Then it hit the Admiral, and when it did, he chuckled. "That's right he is the sailor aboard the cruiser the UNSC Hardline that is being put in front of a promotion board next week!" Mitchell quickly turned around and strode to his desk. If he remembered correctly, he should have a Fitness Report on him posted by the ships Commanding Officer. Mitchell sifted through several papers finding little success. Finally, he sighed and pushed a button on his desk phone. It beeped, and his aids voice sounded from the speaker.
"Yes Admiral, how can I help you"?
"John, get me a full-service report on one Lieutenant Oliver, Daniel M. currently serving aboard the UNSC Hardline".
"Very well Sir, anything else"?
"No, that will be all. Thank you". With that, the Admiral took has finger off the button and leaned back to sit on his desk. "You know Jasper, I have a good feeling for once". The parrot simply squawked in reply.
LOCATION: REMNANT – BEACON ACADEMY
/JUN-19-2533 SOL/ 1150 Universal Time/
"Although I am not one to make any kind of ultimatum on whether or not intelligent life outside of Remnant exists! I can say or certain there is no historical evidence regarding any extraterrestrial visitation in any records! ANYWHERE"! Dr. Oobleck stated enthusiastically before taking a sip from his thermos. "Are there any questions my dear pupils"!
Today was an unusual day for Professor Oobleck's history class at Beacon. For one thing, everyone was wide awake. For another, as a reward for good performance on the last test for the previous grading period, the students were allowed to pick a topic they wanted to cover. What had started as a joke when Cardin suggested alien life, turned into genuine curiosity when the nutty professor actually expressed his own interest. Weiss raised her hand.
"Ah, yes Ms. Schnee! What are your thoughts and or any questions you may have"?
Weiss lowered her hand, the unconvinced look that had taken hold of her face was still present and obvious to all in the room. "If there is no evidence of aliens, then why are we even concerned about their existence? Whether or not they do exist, don't we have bigger issues that plague our planet"? A portion of the class seemed to nod in agreement. But for the Professor, a smile crossed his lips as he pushed his glasses back.
"That's just the trick of this whole issue! We can't either prove nor disprove their existence, so we as society tend to pass off the topic as irrelevant! However, for those of us who remain curious, I would say that the possible existence of a race that is just as, if not more advanced than our own is a mind-blowing idea! Think for a moment Ms. Schnee, what would you do if right now if an alien life form came down to Beacon Academy? What questions would you ask it"?!
"I…uhhh.." Weiss had barely a moment before Oobleck cut her off in his tangent of energy and excitement.
"How about asking it how it powers it's civilization! Or what kinds of fuels it uses for its machines"! Oobleck zipped around the back of his desk and in front of the chalk board before he began furiously drawing what looked to be several dust crystals. "As of right now Ms. Schnee, your family controls the largest reservoirs of dust on the planet". Weiss felt her cheeks flush with mild embarrassment. "Now would you not, as heiress to the largest dust manufacturer in the world, be curious as to how a race can power itself without dust? On top of that, we can also safely say that they likely don't use dust because any and all attempts made by Atlas to send something into space have resulted in the vehicle crashing back down after the dust powered cores failed completely upon hitting the edge of our atmosphere. More importantly, would you not be interested in expanding your market before your competition"?
Weiss had not thought about that, however she still didn't feel convinced. Curiosity proved nothing, but it did make her interested in holding contingency plans IN THE CASE that such an event would happen.
"My point Ms. Weiss, is that although we cannot prove the existence of life outside of Remnant. It is both a luxury and necessity to plan for all outcomes. My final example that I leave with you today students, is this. What would happen if the aliens turned out hostile? How would we react? And vice versa! What if they were friendly? These are all questions that I recommend you consider on your free time however, as there is homework"! The class collectively groaned as the bell rang. "Chapters 14 through 15, and a full report by next class period"!
Team RWBY got up to leave for lunch as Oobleck's history class was the last one of the morning. "I wonder what kind of weapons they have? Do you think they use aura? Do you think they have cookies"? Ruby asked with excitement at the prospect of gun slinging, aura using, cookie eating aliens.
"I don't know, but I kinda want to see how tough they are"! Replied Yang as she cracked her knuckles, grinning widely.
"Please tell me you two aren't actually buying into the whole alien thing right"? Weiss said with a hint of disbelief. "Honestly, there are more important things to worry about than some little green man that may or may not show up. Blake, please tell me you have my back on this…Blake"?
Blake was deep in thought as per usual when Weiss roused her. As she snapped back to reality, she found herself besieged by 3 pairs of questioning eyes. "I, don't really know. I'd like to thing that Humanity and the Faunus aren't the only ones fighting to survive things like the Grim. But then again, who's to say Grim even exist outside of Remnant. We know dust doesn't work when it leaves the planet, so what does that say for everything else? I guess I kind of find it a lot to think about"? And think about it is what she had done since the topic was first brought up. Blake enjoyed playing out scenarios in her mind as it had been something she picked up from years of reading. The idea of extra-terrestrial life actually seemed like a much deeper concept when one actually dove into the intricacies of it. Blake shook her head realizing that she had done it again, she had gotten so lost in thought that when she came back, she had missed most of the conversation.
"Maybe we'll just have to wait and see…" Yang finished just before her stomach rumbled loud enough for the group to hear. It was then that team RWBY realized how hungry they all were. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Let's go see what they have for chow". The rest of the team nodded in agreement as they began making their way to Beacon Academy's prestigious dining hall.