Beacon was impressive.

To anyone who had not seen a Hive City, in truth, but it was still a strangely relaxing architectural sight. That was what Fritz thought as the fat-bodied aircraft the young women before him and 'Erika'(A name he will forever call her by) had called a Bullhead was coming in to land. He shifted in his seat, then stood up and looked to the female soldier that had mere moments ago attempted to murder him by utilizing a weapon he hadn't seen in open military service ever beyond history books.

He extended her a hand to help her stand up, but she simply gazed at him, then stood up on her own, lifting her equipment bag and drawing her lasgun. She kept the weapon close as they dismounted from the vehicle, while Fritz simply gave her a look of concern. He sighed deeply and deactivated his helmet once more. Team RWBY led them forward, into the courtyard of Beacon and to the sight of students returning from vacations.

"Sooo..." Ruby started as they walked, "You guys seem to not like each-other very much..."

"Well," Fritz hummed, "Our first meeting was literally her shooting at me and me needing to disarm her before you two found us, so," which garnered a few looks of confusion out of the four young ladies present, all of whom looked to the young woman. She seemed unfazed by the revelation, simply keeping a guarded stance, her weapon at the ready, safety off, but barrel aimed at the floor. Still, the stance she took was of a capable combatant with her type of weapon, aimed low, but ready to be raised within a half-second to start laying down laser-based fury.

Weiss commented in a whisper, "A bit rude..." before she got a sideways glance that sent a hundred ice-cold shivers running up her spine from the rifle-carrying woman. Weird. Weiss was usually the one sending piercing glares people's way. It felt so strange to be on the receiving end of one such glare, especially one that elicited that type of response from her. She needed to learn more about this woman, too.

Blake chuckled upon noticing Weiss seemingly shift her spine to another plane of existence, before asking her, "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Just..." She quickly looked over to the Death Korps soldier, then whispered to Blake, "She's certainly a case for the most terrifying character I've met to date..." which got both girls another glance that would cause them to feel chills. Blake nodded in agreement with Weiss's assessment. 'Erika', if that was even her real name, was certainly a strange figure, much stranger than even the man in extremely advanced Power Armor.

"She's cool," Yang smirked, "Dunno what you two are complaining about. Same for Fritz." Before she wiggled her eyebrows at the guy.

"I see your half-sister's already made up her mind about me and Erika," Chuckled the Dark Age of Technology human male, shifting a tool off his gauntlet and examining a breach in his armor from an earlier battle. He quietly started humming a tune he knew from his grandfather, who knew it from his grandfather. Repeat that ad-nauseam till one reached the 1900s and they would find the origins of the Carl Family's ability to sing said tune.

'Erika' seemed to have recognized the tune, shooting an armor-piercing glare toward the man. He ignored it, contrary to what the girls expected as they walked toward the central tower of Beacon. Was that why he had elected the name, she thought. Because of the stupid song? It was an eerily happy tune, only sung by some of the higher-ups of Krieg's Autarky.

She disliked it for a few reasons. Newest to be found was the fact that it related to her 'new' name, much to her chagrin and, presumably, the enjoyment of this false prophet, whomsoever he happened to be. She kept her lasgun at the ready, just in case she could catch him off-guard when he does something stupid, when he makes one slip-up, or anything that could so much as aid her in removing him from reality.

Meanwhile, Fritz didn't really care. He just liked having a bit of fun, honestly. Having lived for several centuries at this point, he might as well do that. Now, one would misunderstand Fritz as being an asshole in the situation, which he could see from a certain point of view, but he was just trying to make the young, mute woman beside him feel a little better about the predicament of being stuck on this alien world. He still wanted to get her to talk to him somehow.

She just seemed odd. Why would someone attempt to go into battle with outdated weaponry? She didn't seem like any planetary militia he'd met during his travels. No, she seemed more a simple human in a weird getup. Then again, he knew some weird planetary leaders who'd get friends to dress weird. Like a World War 1 soldier with a mishmash of equipment types.

Ruby was still casting glances their way, examining their equipment and hiding a type of glee like that of a child in a candy store. The other three, meanwhile, looked them over as if they were a freakshow. Understandably, considering that his armor registered each girl's weapon, despite their strange properties, utilized projectiles, though with abnormal propellants.

Something pinged from Ruby's direction and 'Erika' nearly lifted her Lasgun to meet it. Fritz was quick enough to push the weapon down, shaking his head at the woman. She scowled behind her mask and freed her weapon from the man's grip by yanking it out, but she didn't raise it. Ruby picked something up and out of her pocket, before opening it to reveal a semi-holographic communication device. She hummed, blinked and said, "Huh. General Ironwood's here, too."

Well, that surprised both residents of the Milky Way, with the girl seemingly becoming a little less tense as they marched toward the tower. Weiss told Ruby, "We'll probably have to return to our dorm, Ruby."

"I'll take'em up to the Headmaster. See you girls there," She smiled at her teammates. Blake and Weiss seemed uneasy at the idea of leaving her alone, but Yang hummed and gave a thumbs up to her sis. She dragged her friends away while still ogling Fritz for a moment. The Krieger hummed at the sight and considered herself lucky that the man might've had someone to distract him while she figured out a way off this planet. Her front-line duties were not done.

The trio entered the massive tower, finding it a multi-story marvel of architecture that contained both holographic displays for communication and post boxes if one wanted to send a letter via Runner. Entering the elevator, Ruby suddenly started bouncing a bit as the car started up its ascent. She looked to them and asked, "Sooo... You guys look awesome! What weapons even are those?!"

"Long story," The man replied, "Maybe we can tell you after we're done here, Ruby. Provided we'll even be staying."

"Sure!" Ruby beamed. The elevator's welcome PA dinged as it arrived at the desired floor. Once the door opened, a wide office was revealed to the group, an office located within the belly of the clocktower itself. The face of the clock lay behind the main desk, a one-way window that allowed the owner of this office to safely preside over the entire campus. Bookshelves lay on the left, filled with old literature, worn leather hard-cover books and various trinkets. A small globe of the planet lay on a reading desk next to said shelves. To the right was more assorted furniture.

In the center of it all, however, right at the desk, stood two men. A silver-haired man with a youthful appearance despite the experience everything from his poise to his attire told of and an aging man with black hair that greyed at the sides of his head. The latter man was built like a tank, hardy, strong and slim. The faint outline of two pistol holsters lay beneath the white greatcoat he wore.

Ruby greeted, "Hello, Headmaster! General!"

The Death Korps soldier seemed to tense, slinging her rifle onto her back and taking the standard 'at-attention' stance, ramrod straight, feet close together, arms by her body. Fritz did much the same, out of respect for the general. The General himself, the man clad in white, spoke, "So, these are the people you found, miss Rose?" before turning toward them. They both saluted instinctually. He saluted them back and told them, "At ease..."

"Yessir," Ruby smiled, "We found them during that scouting mission we got as homework."

"Quite interesting outfits," The man behind the General noted, "Good afternoon. I am Headmaster Ozpin and this is General Ironwood. Welcome to Vale."

"Sir," Fritz replied, "Good to be here, I suppose... Mind you, I'm speaking for myself. Not sure what Erika here thinks." and he motioned to the still-focused, parade rest soldier beside him. She was a statue, unmovable and unmoving, seemingly, not even the motions of her breathing visible. The only thing that told those around her she was, in fact, breathing, was the puffs of her mask and the slight retracting of the nozzle to which the air filter hose was attached as a vacuum was created when she breathed in.

"Rrrrright..." Ruby drawled. She then told the Headmaster and General, "I'm just gonna go back to my team, general, sir. Headmaster."

"Very well, miss Rose. Thanks again," Ozpin spoke as he stood up to meet the two. The girl gave a quick smile and wave to both Fritz and 'Erika', then departed in a burst of speed with the elevator. With that done, Ozpin and the General stared at the two otherworlders, the former leaning on a strangely ornate cane with gears inside its central piece as he scrutinized them. He spoke, "The young man certainly looks like one of yours, James."

"Afraid I don't recall having that type of armor in our arsenal, Oz," The man quipped, "And what about the..." he eyed Erika, then asked, "The girl. Considering they called her 'Erika'... What is with her equipment? She resembles one of the soldiers of the Great War..." before humming and crossing his arms to his chest. He spoke to them, "Apologies, mister Carl, miss Erika. We're just... We've seen all the various ways a Hunter individualizes themselves from their peers, but you two look... Beyond odd."

"Considering neither of us seems to be from your planet," Fritz commented, "Sir."

Both men blanked, but Ozpin remained seemingly steadfast as Ironwood demanded, "What?!" and watched with muted awe as Fritz lifted his hand. A holographic display formed in his palm, exploding outward in a myriad lights, before settling into a muted blue color, revealing a galaxy map. One that Erika recognized as the Milky Way. She blinked in surprise, staring at it.

"What-..." Ironwood blinked, "Is that...?"

"The Milky Way Galaxy. Our Galaxy," Fritz replied, then pointed to a flashing golden system and said, "This is Sol. Our home and cradle..." He hummed, looked to Erika first, then to the general, "We're not of this world, sir. If your people have technology similar to my armor, though... And your people all seem to be humans, sans for some of those we saw with animal traits while on our way here..." He looked over to Erika, "Whaddaya think, some lost colony?"

She blinked again. He sighed and chuckled, "Right. She doesn't speak much for some reason..."

"Hm," General Ironwood took a moment to consider potential options, before deciding and offering, "Permission to speak granted, young lady..."

That wasn't gonna work, thought Fritz. It couldn't be that simple-...

"... Thank you, sir," The woman replied, voice muffled by the gas mask, as it seemingly was that simple. Her voice was smooth and surprisingly soft despite the worn and tattered gear she wore. She spoke in a flat tone, however, to the point one wondered if she wasn't a machine. The trio of men looked at her, Fritz mostly dumbfound, before the General hummed and cleared his throat. He motioned for her to go on. She hesitated for a moment, then introduced herself, "Watchmaster of the 49th Krieg Heavy Infantry Regiment, number 112101-221912, female model 091."

The three men had once more been stunned. Fritz asked openly, "Your people run on numbers...? Why?" seemingly the most surprised of them all.

"I'm afraid that I cannot answer that. Imperial Prerogative number 291, bestowed upon my home world by the Administratum and the Adeptus Mechanicus, forbids that knowledge from being shared with us and, hence, with the rest of the Galaxy. Our Penitence must continue, still," She replied once more, robotic. She simply stared at them like an automaton, the rare blink behind the opaque glass ports of her gas mask telling that she was even remotely human.

"Do any of you carry any actual names, then?" The General tried to remain stoic, though he, too, thought much like Ozpin did.

"Our highest-ranking officers do, sir, for purposes of interoperability with the other Regiments of the Imperial Guard," She nodded. The Dark Age of Technology human took a minute to register the wording she was using. Dog Latin, combined with various English terms and even the continuous references to an 'Imperium'. He needed to find out more about her time from her. And if she was willing to listen to him, too... What did she even mean by 'penitence'?

"I see," Ironwood hummed... Then sighed, "Well, if you don't mind, I'll be referring to you as Watchmaster, if that is your rank," Only to pause as he got a nod from her. He told her, "Well, Watchmaster, I wish to ask you to remove your gas mask. I'd feel better if I was speaking to a human face, rather than a leather gas mask from the days of old... If it is possible."

She seemed hesitant, but whether it be request or order, from a Korps officer or of another human unit, Number Ninety-One was forced by her iron discipline and training to answer to it as if it were the Emperor's request. Unclipping her helmet and taking it and the attached hood off her head, revealing dirty, flowing golden hair that was trimmed short to fit under it, though it was still a hint messy, the woman then grabbed the leather strap of the mask and pulled it off of her face, revealing a scarred young maiden of a beauty the likes of which was only told in stories. Two pearly blue eyes stared, impassive, at the trio of men as she retook her parade rest position, gas mask clipped to the leather belt below her coat.

Fritz had blanked for a good minute, staring at her as if he had seen a battle-scarred Angel that had come down from the heavens to speak to them. He managed to luckily suppress the warmth he felt in his cheeks and the blush with it before she noticed. She simply stared on, meanwhile, waiting for any other further questions or requests from the General. Ironwood had to pause, not because of the woman's unnatural beauty, but rather because she seemed young. The tell-tale signs of a girl that had just reached nineteen years of age played alongside the thousand-yard stare and sunken eyes and the bags beneath them from days, if not weeks of combat.

To both Ozpin and Ironwood, there was a picture of innocence lost. A young woman forced to fight a war she should have had no part in. James hummed, cleared his throat again, then stated, "Thank you, Watchmaster... Dare I ask the status of the rest of your regiment? Because I think I and my troops can go assist them if they also landed anywhere nearby."

"Unknown..." She replied, "They were still fighting when I... Perished..." And finally, the faintest hint of emotion appeared in her voice to accentuate that word:Confusion. Her face remained steely, but even her eyes seemed to cloud for a moment as she told the confused trio, "With all due respect, knowing this may be a feudal world of some sort, perhaps even a Death World from the creatures we met when first landing here, I shall not be telling where..."

"That's fine," Ozpin interrupted Ironwood, "Thank you, Watchmaster..."

She nodded, holding her helmet under her arm. She turned to Fritz as the man still stared at her. She noted he, too, bore some scars. General Ironwood looked over to him next, then said, "What about you?"

"Sir. Commander Fritz Carl, Terran Federation Armed Forces..." He spoke, now a hint more wary, "I was a special operations unit. And more than that, I'm afraid I can't say..." before getting a nod from the general and from Ozpin. The two paused, turning to talk to each-other while Fritz went to the stoic young woman and asked her, "I've actually heard of Krieg. It was a fairly populous industrial planet... I didn't know they created armies nowadays, though. Kind of ironic, considering its former status as both a peaceful paradise and center of industry..."

She eyed him, then replied, "... Much has changed from your Millennium to now... Far too much." Voice still monotone.

"I can tell... What millennium are you even from?" He inquired.

"... The 41st..." She answered, his eyes shooting wide open. She didn't much seem like she wanted to talk to him, but the few things she had told him now opened his eyes to much of the truth of the world she came from. The forty-first millennium. As the two men then turned to face them again, the Krieg soldier snapped-to, still at 'parade rest', technically, though ramrod straight. Fritz noted the tells of a veteran in her movement. And the scars hidden by her uniform. Krieg must've gone to hell and a handbasket from when he last visited.

"Taking into account what we've heard here..." James sighed, "We wanted to ask one more thing, Watchmaster."

"Sir," She nodded.

"What did you mean by 'Penitence'?"

"Penitence for the sin of Betrayal, when our planet rebelled and attempted to leave the guiding light of the Emperor," She replied without so much as flinching. The General, as stunned as Ozpin and Fritz, motioned to her to continue, "The Civil War that broke our homeworld lasted for 500 years... We came out victorious in the end, but the Sin was set in our blood. I and my brethren will pay for that sin in blood. Im leben, Krieg. Im tod, frieden. Im leben, schande. Im tod, suhne."

"... In life, war. In death, peace..." Murmured Fritz, turning to the two men, "In life, shame... In death, atonement."

The fatalistic views of the young woman were so ingrained into her mind that the reactions of the three men before her gave her pause. Ozpin quickly requested something over a similar device to that which Ruby had used, before speaking to them, "We have much more to talk about, though I'm certain both of you are very tired... I've requested that an apartment here in Beacon be prepared for you in order for you two to rest and recuperate. In the meanwhile, I and the General will discuss... Well... What comes next. Professor Glynda Goodwitch will be waiting for you downstairs to guide you there."

"Understood," Fritz nodded, "Thanks... C'mon, Erika."

The woman furrowed her brows, gave a nod and saluted the men, before sliding her hood, helmet and mask back on. The duet walked off to the elevator and took it down, with General Ironwood remarking, "This is a lot to take in, Ozpin... I'm not sure how I feel about it. If I can even believe them..." as he pulled a flask out from one of the inner pockets of his greatcoat.

"Well, you did say commander Carl isn't one of yours. We shall see what the future brings when we talk to them tomorrow..." Ozpin replied, wary as well.

Downstairs, the two had met miss Goodwitch. The woman had given them her name and told them to follow along. Doing so, Fritz stayed at the same pace with Erika, asking her, "I... How bad has Krieg gotten if they send people out into combat dressed in what's tantamount to a bad case of World War 1 cosplay...?" only to see her remain quiet. He blinked, then sighed and said, "Permission to speak granted?"

She cast a sideways glance at him and didn't answer for a moment. He rolled his eyes and told her, "I'm a Commander, too, you know? Higher rank than you, I'm gonna assume, so I can grant you permission to speak."

"..." With a sigh, she told him, "The Civil War ruined our home planet, forcing us to hide beneath the soil and the remnants of our hives. We bear that shame eternally. That is all you need to know, commander." her voice low, a faint hint of fury behind it. The man hummed and sighed as they kept on walking, only to enter a building and ascend a few floors via a much faster elevator. Glynda wordlessly stopped in front of the place opened the door for them, gave a quick bow goodbye and allowed them inside.

Much to their surprise, the apartment had two bedrooms and was very well furnished, including a kitchen with a seemingly fully-stocked fridge. The two walked toward the bedrooms and propped open the doors, looking inside. Each bedroom had a double bed, super-king-sized, from the looks of things. Beside them lay wardrobes and, on the right-side walls, there were desks.

The kitchen also had a wide window that showed the outside world, including the massive forest where the pair had been discovered. An endearing little sightline for the two future inhabitants. Fritz walked over to the counter and leaned against the black stone surface, staring out at the greenery, then murmured, "It's been a while since I've hat my feet firmly planted on the ground..."

He heard the door shut behind the Death Korps's soldier, turning only to see the empty apartment. He sighed and walked into his own room, deactivating his armor and letting it fold in on itself until it was nothing but a small, rounded object about half-a-meter in diameter. He set the alloy puck down to the side and looked at himself in the mirror. His ballistic gel undersuit was a bit burnt, some spots blacker than its standard. Some crystalline nanostorage liquid seemed to be flowing out of a wound, but he patched it up quick.

He then checked his weapon, looked at the starmap one more time and found Krieg, murmuring, "So, what happened to my cousins' home, then...?"

... Across from him, the Death Korps of Krieg's Watchmaster stared at herself in the mirror next to her own wardrobe. Tattered apparel, damaged equipment with chips and dents and a pair of tired eyes met her own. She slung her rifle off of her shoulder and set it aside, removing the charge pack and sighing. She then removed her gas mask, which required some stitching, and set it on the bed alongside its respirator and the helmet and chemical protection hood. Following that, she took off her chemically-protected greatcoat, leaving herself in a pair of slacks and a white shirt. She pulled out a sewing kit from her backpack and started working on repairing her clothes.

Before that, however, she heard a clink from one of her pouches. With a blink, she turned toward said pouch and opened it, revealing sixteen dog tags, each bearing 19-character long alphanumeric strings that made note of, from left to right, regiment, the tag and ID number of the soldier and the gender model, the codes for sixteen of her comrades and pod comrades. They had all been, born in the same pod cluster, trained in the same companies, survived the same live-fire exercises and assigned to the same regiment, the same Platoon. Each of them had perished before her.

She pulled out a pict-graph taken by a Servo-skull of her and her friends. Each was clad in the same dark-grey uniform and long coat as the other, though the faint hairs poking out under their helmets told them apart. Red hair, blonde hair and black hair. The leader of the platoon, one of the other blondes, Number 043, had been the one because of whom the girls had cut their hair short. She had died when an Ork managed to get a hold of her mane, bringing her into the edge of his choppa.

The black-haired one had saved her from an Ork's machine gun, taking several rounds and dying in her arms. The redhead had been a tanker, died when her vehicle was hit by an Ork Trukk's missile. The others had been either Grenadiers, or Pioneers in the unit. Mines, assault weapons, Close Quarters. One by one, they'd perished until she had been assigned to another platoon once hers had completely dissolved. She'd met some new people there, too, but... She had died before any concrete acknowledgement of the others existed.

She stood up and marched to the side of the desk, finding a decent spot. Planting the tip of a boot knife she drew with little spectacle or flourish, she stuck the photo to it and hanged the sixteen dog tags of her sisters off of the blade. A sole candle, half-melted, stood in her pocket. She pulled it out and set it down on the desk, right below the blade and tags, then lit it with her last match.

She then sat herself down and wondered what to do with the 'Commander'. A human from the Dark Age of Technology. Even to one such as her, it was sort of awe-inspiring. She couldn't kill him. She could bring him to the local Segmentum Command if she could find a way off this planet, have him help them fight their enemies or, if he refused, take his armor and remove him from the equation completely...

No. For some reason, she could not even fathom it.

She sighed, simply curling up on the floor and utilizing her bag as a pillow, before fading off into a dreamless sleep...