Dust and Glory

by Maglad

Watch Fortress Edgehog has orbited a dead world for thousands of years, but as the world turns queer enough to sprout life and even a dragon-shaped continent, the Deathwatch finds they have new neighbors. (This is meant to be a silly and slow story. Don't expect violence porn. Do expect lots of puns and bad jokes.)

1. Prologue

I wish I owned WH40k or RWBY, but alas I do not. There's notes and clarifications after the chapter.

Foreword

This is the obligatory set-up chapter, aka the chapter you 'can' skip if you feel like it. The actual plot begins next chapter, this is just the 'how did we get here' explanation. That being said, I truly feel this is the best possible way for Remnant to join the Imperium of Mankind. Before the opening of the Cicatrix Maledicta, there was a 50% chance that the Imperium would have just exterminated the faunus and a 100% chance it would have just handed the world over to the mechanicum, and those guys would cover the planet with factories, boiling the oceans away and using the matter to produce toasters and dust rounds. Also, just to be clear, this is meant to be comedy/action, so while I will strive to make it consistent, do not be surprised to see that it is a very tongue-in-cheek story. You've been warned.

Anyway, right now? With the Imperium split in two, interstellar travel made into a nightmare and most planets left to fend for themselves? Now is the best time for this to happen since Remnant will get to organize and rule itself, and when Roboute Guilliman does show up, he'll find a self-reliant, self-governing world ready to pay its taxes and capable of exporting extremely valuable goods. He'll give them a once over, audit them and go "Good job", then piss the fuck off back to saving the galaxy. Honestly, best case scenario he'll create a brand new chapter of Space Marines to protect the all-important Dust, and they'll begin recruiting from those local youths with really, really good grades, ultramarine style.

This would not have been the case before the Cicatrix Maledicta. Heck no. Anyway, why the Deathwatch? Because they're pragmatic and dedicated to ludicrous degrees, so they're unlikely to intervene in the planet's government unless they do something truly stupid, like welcome a genestealer cult or try to defect into the Tau Empire (which should be impossible anyway since that's on the other side of the galaxy). Instead, I'm fairly sure the Deathwatch will just hand them some important but 'basic' tech, and maybe send a techmarine down there to make sure things are built properly, then mostly leave them to do their own thing in exchange for all the Dust rounds they may ever need.

Thought For The Day

HE WHO DOUBTS THE POWER OF THE LASGUN, HAS NEVER HAD TO CHARGE AT TEN THOUSAND OF THEM.

==Prologue==

Fort Erictus - .0 OCM

Watch commander Ramiel Askalon was not happy with the situation, and that was an understatement. Not only had astropathic communication with Holy Terra been cut in the wake of an incomprehensible phenomena that had seemingly split the galaxy in two and spawned a thousand requests for assistance from all over the segmentum because of xenos and chaos incursions, the planet his watch fortress orbited around was no longer dead.

Fort Erictus had been established seven millenia ago to watch over eighty populated systems, acting as a fast response system against xeno incursions. Its labyrinthine defenses included multiple armories, void shield generators, hangars and armories to support five full watch companies. For seven thousand years, fort Erictus' formidable defenses had served as both a deterrent and an staging ground for the Deathwatch to launch preemptive strikes against all manners of xenos across the sector and beyond.

And for seven thousand years, the shattered moon the fortress is built on, had orbited Oum-4, a dead world. A ball of rock and ice with no discernible use or value beyond providing wide open spaces where the Kill Teams residing in the fortress could test fire weapons of origin both sanctioned and... exotic.

Now, watch commander Ramiel is a man used to carefully measured decisions. Sending a Kill Team on a mission meant not sending it somewhere else, often with limited data, and much too often resulting in the difference between nipping an ork WAAAGH! on the bud, wiping a genestealer cult, teaching eldar raiders the price of their insolence, or leaving planets of billions to very, very grim fates. As such, his transhuman brain was already abuzz with the implications and calculations most relevant to this bizarre situation.

Factual - The galaxy was torn in two.

Theoretical - Can he do anything about it?

Factual - No.

"Is anyone down there?" - he asked with a calm he honestly didn't feel.

"I have detected multiple settlements, but they appear to lack the capacity to broadcast into space, much less leave the planet by themselves. Their planet-wide communications appear reliant on low-power radio waves reliant on four massive structures..." - replied brother techmarine Indis.- "They are beginning to notice our presence, but are uncertain about what to make of us."

"No pleas for help?"

"Not to us specifically, no."

"Alright. Let me know the moment that changes. In the meanwhile, we have plenty of work to do."

"Yes, my lord."

Commander Ramiel got to work, dispatching Kill Teams as needed to answer the few requests for help he could somewhat reasonably determine as the direst, starting a frenzy of activity that for the next 30 years just barely managed to keep the sub-sector from complete annihilation.

Of course, this did not meant he wouldn't keep an eye, planet-side.

==/ /==

Atlas Military HQ Labs - 30.740 OCM (1)

"General." - Pietro Polendina nodded as Gen. Ironwood entered the brand new ATA(2) station control room. After an unfortunate but thankfully brief increase in grimm attacks due to the sudden appearance of an apparent alien base on the moon and its fragments, society had settled back into a rythm.

You can only be histeric for so long before you realize you are not being invaded, after all. To be honest, most forums and threads could be abridged to 'why won't they talk to us?' and 'uppity assholes.'

"Good morning doctors." - the general greeted the scientists and technicians in the room.- "Are we on schedule?"

"Yes, going live in three, two..." - Doctor Polendina flipped the switch, and the station began browsing through different radiowaves at high speed, excluding the ones used for in-planet communication, which had been considerably restricted and codified in preparation for this day.

"...I kind of wanted to flip the switch."

"Did you say something, general?"

"No, nothing."

They sat there, with Dr Polendina sipping from his coffee mug and the general standing by the console, all military pose and gallantry... for the better part of an hour.

"It is working, yes?" - the general asked a technician.

"Yes general."

"We did everything we could, general. Now we play the waiting game." - Dr Polendina pips up from his chair.

"For about how long?"

[THIS/ /IS/ /WATCH/ /FORTRESS/ /HEDGEHOG/ /DO/ /YOU/ /REQUIRE/ /ASSISTANCE?] - boomed out of the speakers overhead, causing Dr Polendina and a technician to spill their drink all over their labcoats, forcing Gen Ironwood to school his features, with just the barest hint of a twitch at the corner of his lips.

"I thought we wouldn't pick on-planet transmissions?" - the general's shoulders sagged slightly.

"Yeah well, its pretty far into the upper bands. I thought the army would keep use of radio to a minimum for this experiment?" - Dr Polendina sighed as he saw the (thankfully cold) coffee stains on his favorite lab robe, and probably his shirt, too.

"We passed the orders to that effect. Can we respond?"

"Yes, just hold this button down and speak on the microphone."

"Thank you." - Gen Ironwood leaned closer to the microphone and replied.- "This is General James Ironwood from Atlas A.T.A. project, how copy?"

[STRONG/ /COPY/ /THIS/ /IS/ /BROTHER/ /TECHMARINE/ /INDIS/ /DO/ /YOU/ /REQUIRE/ /ASSISTANCE/ /GENERAL/ /OVER] - the speaker boomed again

The general frowned a little, and the rest of the A.T.A. personnel in the room looked at each other, curious or amused. Was this some weird religious survivalist group or maybe just some private citizen with too much time?

"Brother... Indis, is it? This is Atlas A.T.A. project. Please vacate this frequency as we are trying to reach the base(4)."

[DO/ /YOU/ /REQUIRE/ /ASSISTANCE/ /GENERAL?] - Brother Indis asked, a little slower this time, somehow injecting a tone of concern, though his baritone still caused some of the pannels in the consoles to hum whenever he spoke.

"Wha- no, this is Atlas A.T.A. project. We are trying to stablish first contact with the base on the moon. Please turn off your radio for the next... forty three minutes."

[THAT/ /WOULD/ /BE/ /COUNTERPRODUCTIVE/ /TO/ /YOUR/ /MISSION/ /GENERAL/ /AND/ /CONGRATULATIONS.] - Brother Indis sounded... amused?

"Thank you? Listen, we are trying to initiate peaceful dialogue with the unknown base on the moon, please vacate the radio waves."

[THAT/ /WOULD/ /BE/ /VERY/ /COUNTERPRODUCTIVE/ /GENERAL/ /THIS/ /IS/ /WATCH/ /FORTRESS/ /HEDGEHOG/ /WE/ /HAVE/ /BEEN/ /WAITING/ /FOR/ /YOU.] - yes, brother Indis sounded definitively amused somehow.- [YOUR/ /MISSION/ /IS/ /A/ /SUCCESS/ /CONGRATULATIONS.]

==/ /==

Beacon Academy's Principal's Office - 30.740 OCM (5)

Ozpin smiles as he hears a gentle beeping announcing one of his more involved collaborators is calling him.

"James, how are you doing and to what do I owe the pleasure?" - the principal asks while sipping from his coffee, looking at his friend through the screen.

"As of four and a half hours ago, Atlas' A.T.A. project was a complete success, Ozpin." - the general says in as neutral a tone as he can manage.

All the same, Ozpin spits his drink all over his desk. Its probably a record, too, as some of it got several feet past his desk and almost hit Gynda Goodwitch as the vice principal was coming into the room.

Beacon's headmaster is chocking, coughing and trying to get himself under control while Glynda hurries up and tries to assist him, having him lift his arms and lean backwards as she looks at their friend on the screen.

"James, what did you just tell him to get him like this!?" - she demands while Ozpin gets himself under control.

"Mmh~ saved." - Ironwood commented to himself, thankful he had enough foresight to record Ozpin's reaction.

"What?" - Glynda looks at him with a reproachful expression.

"Nothing, not a thing. As I was saying, a little under five hours ago we succeeded in contacting the base..." - Gen Ironwood repeats himself, quite happy he's still recording, rather enjoying Glynda's astonished look.- 'I may have to frame this.'

"WHAT!?" - A rather undignified, but certainly understandable, cry leaves the headmaster's lips as soon as he gets himself under control.

"As far as I can tell, our fears were unfounded. No, it is not Salem, she did not somehow magically build a base on the moon and its shards." - the general explains.

"Oh. Well, that's good. Hard to believe, but certainly good. It was hard to imagine anyone on Remnant would have the technology and means to do something like that thirty years ago..." - Glynda comments aloud while looking at the general.

"So... who's there?" - Ozpin asks as he cleans his desk with a handkerchief, and looks at his ruined documents with disappointment.- "I still can't imagine anyone having the ability to go off-planet without magic, let alone building such a massive structure overnight."

"That's good, because it wasn't overnight. According to the data package they sent us, they've been there for a little over seven thousand years." - Ironwood replied slowly, mostly hoping Ozpin would have poured himself a new drink by the time he dropped that little gem.

"What?" - he does get the pleasure of seeing them react at the same time, though.

"From their point of view, Remnant has always been a dead world. We just sort of... appeared out of thin air about thirty years ago."

"What?" - Ironwood was so happy he was recording this.

"That is correct. Dead ball of rocks a minute, vibrant planet the next. Uhm... why don't you pour yourself another cup. I can wait."

"I doubt I'd need any coffee right now. I'm wide awake. I think this is the most awake I've been, ever."

"...akright."

And thus, Gen. Ironwood explained to his friend about the Deathwatch, the Imperium of Man, and xenos. It was a rather interesting conversation, and one that Salem and her little band of collaborators would have a hard time believing once Watts plays the hacked conversation for them.

"It can't be true. James, we used to live with the gods. I spoke to them... hell, they resurrected and killed and resurrected and killed me for a minute straight."

"Well, they have records stretching back ten thousand years, and that's only an small fragment of overall human history. Honestly, I realize it sounds incredible, but they have a base on the moon, Ozpin. I'd say that leans credibility to their story."

"The gods... aren't?" - Ozpin was flabbergasted. And when Salem got to this part of the recording, she felt like throwing a party while screaming 'I knew it!' aloud.

"Apparently, there's plenty of incredibly powerful alien races that could have pretended to be gods. With all due respect, the society of your time was not particularly advanced, was it? I am fairly sure that if I descended from the sky on an Atlas cruiser atop a medieval society and declared myself a deity, chances are I'd be believed. Honestly, it doesn't really change anything for us, does it? We still have the same problems we had yesterday."

"...I-i guess you are right. Since you are this calm, I assume they're not invading us?"

"From what brother techmarine Indis explained, a lost colony of mankind returning to the fold is something to be celebrated. Normally."

"Normally?" - Glynda's eyebrows start rising towards her hairline

"Brother whatmarine Indis?" - Ozpin's right eyebrow goes up

"Galactic society is facing something of a crisis due to an incomprehensible stellar phenomena." - the genral explained.- "Its included in the data package I've been sending you since this conversation started..."

==/ /==

Evernight Caslte, Land of Darkness (Remnant's southernmost continent) - 30.741 OCM

"Please tell me you made a copy of that." - Cinder said while looking at Watts.

"Of course I did. Took a look at it before bringing this up to her majesty, obviously, and-"

"Is it true, Watts?" - Salem sounded almost... hopeful.

"It looks that way, your majesty. From what I gathered, our planet was first colonized anywhere between thirty thousand years ago to twenty five thousand years ago. Magic is a manifestation of a particularly gifted mind's psychic powers, and I have a theory about what the brother gods... ah, the self-proclaimed gods did when they wiped humanity... this new information is incredible, and it all fits." - the aging scientist sounded almost giddy. Almost.- "It just casts our existence into a frame of science and logic. It completely chanes our ideas on what is real and what is not..."

"So, what do you think they did?" - Salem asks, the corners of her lips curving upwards ever so slightly as she makes herself comfortable in her seat.

"They probably used some incredibly advanced science to move our planet into the 'immaterium', or rather, just moved the topmost crust of Remnant into a bubble within it, since the data package suggests that the planet gained a quarter extra girth upon our return to realspace thirty years ago."

"Wait, the world is hollow?" - Mercury looked at Watts with a truly bewildered expression.

"Was. Probably. Honestly, we may never know. It certainly is not anymore. It also explains why anything we tried to send into space simply ceased to function, as whatever protected us inside the immaterium probably had a limited range. Hm... we can probably, finally reach space now. No what am I saying, of course we can, the base proved it could be done..."

"Wait, that data package... was in the common tongue?" - Emerald looked at Watts with a befuddled expression.

"They had thirty years and change to hear our transmissions, learn our language and study our culture, I... oh." - Watts looked at Salem with a solemn expression.- "Your majesty, they almost certainly know we are here. The grimm may work to keep intruders from venturing into the continent, normally, but they almost certainly have means to reach us if they wished to... no, wait, the castle is probably not large enough to be visible from space, so either they don't know about us, don't care, or don't think we matter."

"How dare you suggest such a thing about our goddess!" - Tyrian cried out, smashing the table with both hands.

"Actually, I would very much like to hear more along those lines, doctor. Please explain." - Salem commented.

"The Imperium is a confederation of roughly a million worlds, your masjesty. Even if you had complete control of the planet, it would still be a planet within a million worlds. And from the data package, they don't normally intervene with a planet's local governance in so long as tithes and taxes are paid in a timely manner, anyway."

"Wait, is it an empire, or a federation?" - Hazel asked while gesturing with his right hand.

"Its official name is the Imperium of Man, but it is organized as a federation of planets. Like any government, it charges taxes. Spaceports, fleets, armies, all of those come from the citizen's tax known as the Imperial Tithe. Planets could be in the middle of a civil war and so long as the tithe is paid, the overall government won't get involved, apparently. Uh, would that mean the federal government?"

"So what, so long as we pay taxes, they'll be fine with us conquering the planet?" - Cinder latched on to that last bit.

"Apparently."

"Hm~" - on the one hand, Salem felt immensely vindicated about the news that the brother gods were nothing but imposters. On the other hand, it also meant that there was a very good chance they were NOT coming back no matter what she did.

She began to tap the arm of her chair as she thought. If Remnent is but a single planet in an empire of a million worlds, chances are that someone out there knows how to get rid of her curse... no, not a curse. Her condition. And even if they don't, there is a very big chance that science will eventually be able to. She'd have to re-evaluate her plans in the short and long term, but she had time, if nohing else.

Did she still need the relics? There was a very good chance that the brothers woud not return even if she managed to kill or conquer everyone on the planet. There was even a chance they would argue that she needed to do the same to all of humanity, and she was fairly certain that such a thing was... beyond her.

Should she reach out to her stranged husband? No, she legitimately hated him, gods or no gods. Well, she had all the time in the world to think about her future.

"Everyone leave." - she said.- "Go back to your duties. I have much to think about." - she looked at Watts.- "I want to read everything you learned, doctor."

"Of course, your highness."

==/ /==

Kingdom of Atlas, council room. - 30.745 OCM

"General, you can't be serious!" - Councilwoman Camilla Volscian cried out after a few minutes of reading the report that general James Ironwood had handed to her.

"Councilwoman, do you really think I called for a meeting just for a joke?" - the general looked at her with something akin to surprise, though not quite.- "Rather, please finish reading the report. We need to decide on how to deliver the news to the other kingdoms, let alone the general populatio-"

"ARE YOU SERIOUS!?" - Councilman Sleet cried out in outrage.- "Do you have any idea the sort of panic this will cause!?"

"It really depends on how we do it..." - Ironwood smiled. Honestly, he'd have this discussion with Ozpin already, and was thankful to brother Indis for his insight on the matter.- "We are not being invaded, and everyone is well aware that there is a large enough fortress on the moon that it can be seen with the naked eye. If anything, the news that we are not alone, but part of a galaxy-spanning human empire is definitively good news. Merchants can look forward to exporting to a million new markets, citizens can look forward to a massive leap forward in multiple scientific fields... why, the A.T.A. personnel were overjoyed, if anything." - he seemed to consider for a second.- "We will definitively see a massive boost in weapons technology to fight off the grimm with. They have laser guns, you know? Oh, and I am looking forward to seeing Jacques Schnee's face when he finds out that Dust for power production will soon be dead. As soon as we manage to elect a planetary government, the Deathwatch will put us in contact with a forgeworld and we'll be able to acquire plasma generators to replace our old Dust power plants with..."

"...I need to sell my SDC stock." - murmured councilman Sleet.

"Maybe? Apparently, Dust is unique to Remnant, and the Deathwatch has been experimenting with it to create specialized ammunition they call psycho-reactive rounds. Now that we're back in realspace, Dust works just fine off-planet. And our planet is the one and only known source of it, galaxy-wide. It may not have a future in power production, but the same may not be true as far as ammunition production goes..."

"Wait, if they have laser guns, why do they need Dust rounds?" - councilwoman Camille asks, much more comfortable now that the talk is heading towards 'practical and sensible' topics.

"Psycho-reactive ammunition as they call it, is extremely effective against the Grimm, as you know, which are a weakened form of the natural inhabitants of the immaterium, the place we had been trapped in for thousands of years. Incursion of such creatures into realspace are not unheard of, and have actually become extremely common since the event that brought us back into the proper galaxy."

"And you are saying that we are the one and only source for it? Galaxy-wide?" - councilman Sleet's eyebrows twitched, and the corners of his lips curved upwards.- "I need to buy more SDC stock."

"Well, it also means we will be thrown into the spotlight, since every faction in the galaxy will want dust rounds. As such, brother Indis has suggested we form a Planetary Defense Force or PDF before announcing ourselves to the rest of the universe. The Dust must flow, apparently. The only advice I can give right now is for you to read through the entire report, think about it, sleep on it, and come back tomorrow for another meeting. Since Atlas is the most advanced kingdom in Remnant, we will probably be extremely busy on the foreseeable future."

"What do you mean, general?" - councilwoman Camille asked while storing away her copy of the report.

"Remnant needs to be unified, and then we'll need to build an spaceport. We'll probably get help from an imperial organization called Mechanicus. They are basically the imperial engineering corp. Or close enough. Either way, they will be in charge of building and maintenance of the spaceport, and- I see by your expressions that we should reconvene tomorrow. Read your reports, and please for the god's sake, don't let anyone else read them yet."

"Ageed."

"Right, right."

"Meeting adjourned."

==/ /==

Author Notes: .0 OCM stands for '0 chronosegments since the opening of the Cicatric Maledictum. The O in OCM stands for Oum System, which is their solar system. Yes, CM simply stands for Cicatrix Maledictum.

Each chronosegment is 8 terran hours, so this means the story begins within 8 hours of the Cicatrix Maledictum ripping the galaxy in two.

1) 30.740 OCM means 'thirty years and 185 terran days since the birth of the Cicatrix Maledictum, in the Oum system."

2) Alien Telescope Array. Despite the name, its actually a radiotelescope meant for off-planet communication. If you don't like it, take it up with NASA, since I borrowed their terminology.

3) Obviously referring to before the base on the moon showed up.

4) I'm fairly sure that whenever someone on Remnant brings up "the base" everyone knows what they're talking about.

5)May I remind you, the hour blocks encompass 8 terran hours each, and well, Ironwood didn't took over 8 hours to call Ozpin.

Dramatis Personae:

Watch commander Ramiel Askalon - Dark Angel. No chill.

Brother Indis, techmarine - Ravenguard with a sense of humor.

Discarded jokes:

Ozpin: "So... do they happen to have some teenagers with attitude that would be interested in becoming huntsmen?"

Gen Ironwood: "Ozpin, No!"

Ozpin: "Ozpin, yes!"

I swear, so many fics have Ozpin basically drag anyone and anything into Beacon... there's even a Warhammer Fantasy x RWBY story where he recruits an ogre, a squig, an ork and a gretching, IIRC. My fellow authors, you've turned Ozpin into a meme, please stop!

Yang - "So what you are saying is... the base is called 'Erictus'?"

Ruby: "Yang, No!"

Yang: "Yang, yes!"

If you need me to explain this one to you, you're precious and I want to protect your innocence.