Dust and Echoes (RWBY/Halo)
Chapter 6: Proper Introductions
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Solitas Tundra, Kingdom of Atlas, Solitas
November 29th, 69 A.G.W. 01:15 Hours (Remnant Calendar)
Qrow said nothing as he simply stared at the unconscious alien laid out on a stretcher inside the bullhead. The other soldiers were doing the same thing, and he didn't blame them in the slightest. Admittedly, when the aliens first arrived, he didn't know exactly what they would look like. But, he did figure that they wouldn't look exactly like a human being, despite what movies and comics liked to say. Lo and behold, the alien he and the others were looking at matched a human perfectly. A human male in his thirties, if he had to guess.
'This is beyond uncanny,' Qrow thought, slouching over while clasping his hands together in front of his face.
"This doesn't make any sense. Why is it a human?" a soldier said, keeping his rifle tightly clutched to his chest. Qrow couldn't help but note that the safety was off and the soldier was fully prepared to fire on the unconscious alien at a moment's notice. He would have to keep an eye on that one, same with the others.
"Hell if I know," another replied with a shrug. "Maybe the Gods?"
"You still believe in that?"
"After seeing an alien that looks exactly like a human being, I'm more inclined to the possibility."
Qrow figured there was some truth to that, more than the soldier knew. If there was anyone on the planet who did know why the aliens appeared to be human, Ozpin would know. Especially if the Two Brothers were involved. He knew more about them than anyone.
Finally, they entered sight of Atlas, their bullhead breaking off from the rest of the flight to land at a hospital. Several doctors and nurses, alongside Doctor Polendina, General Ironwood, and Professor Ozpin, were waiting. They were all looking at the bullhead, Pietro with wonder, Ozpin in curious confusion, but the General looked suspicious. His brow was furrowed and his hands clenched, but he forced himself to look neutral as the bullhead landed and the doors swung open.
"Easy, easy," Qrow called out as the wounded alien was moved out of the aircraft. The host of doctors swarmed him, but they were quickly parted as Ironwood calmly walked forward to get a closer look. He narrowed his eyes and studied the man, then nodded.
"Bring him to the medical bay," he ordered. "I want guards on him at all times. As soon as he is able, I want him moved to interrogation."
"Yes, General," the soldiers replied with a crisp salute, then wheeled the alien away. Doctor Polendina shot Ironwood a look, then went after the men. Soon, only Qrow, Ironwood, and Ozpin were on the landing pad, looking at the hospital before the other two turned to look at Qrow. He already knew what they wanted to ask, and he raised his hands.
"Don't look at me, I have no idea what's going on," Qrow admitted.
"I didn't expect you to," Ironwood admitted. "But you're the one who found him, so I want to know what exactly went down. My men were light on the details."
Qrow took a breath of the frosty air and shook his head. "What your men told you was exactly what happened. I found a body buried in the snow and I thought he was dead. Then, a Sayber buried in snow tried to attack me, only for the alien I found to shoot it in the eye about six times."
"He saved you, then?" Ozpin asked, and Qrow scoffed.
"I wouldn't say 'saved.' Just as he shot I was prepared to cut off its head, but I don't think he knew that. Frankly, with how wounded he was, I'm surprised he managed to hit the Sayber at all, much less half his shots."
"Are you certain he was aiming for the Sayber?" Ironwood asked. Qrow narrowed his eyes and bored them into the General's, then nodded.
"Yes, he was. Keep that in mind before you start treating him like an enemy."
"I wasn't going to," Ironwood shot back, then straightened himself and folded his arms behind his back. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to treat him like an ally, either. Until we know exactly what he is, he will be treated as a prisoner of war with all the protections that entails. I do know this, though: I was right."
"Right about what, exactly?" Qrow asked, and Ironwood turned his head to the shattered moon above. Ozpin and Qrow, after a moment, followed his gaze. Hovering in place over the moon was a small blinking dot, and it wasn't hard for them to determine what that dot actually was.
"That alien was a human being," Ironwood began. "I know we won't know for certain until the DNA analysis comes back, but I think both of you can agree on that. That means we can assume human behavior. More importantly, that man was a soldier. A highly trained soldier, given his weapons, armor, and his ability to hit his target despite being heavily wounded. He and the others came from that blasted ship, which tells me one thing: that spacecraft is a warship."
Qrow and Ozpin looked at each other. Try as they might, they could not refute Ironwood's analysis. That human alien screamed 'soldier' with every fiber of his being, and it was a logical next step to assume the ship he was on was also militarily operated. Part of Qrow felt a little disappointed by that. Even after a species broke the confines of their homeworld, violence and warfare still followed them. For Ozpin, the disappointment was even deeper, but it was tempered by sheer confusion over the fact that the aliens were humans to begin with.
Ironwood then nodded and turned around. "If you'll excuse me."
He left without saying another word, and soon only Ozpin and Qrow were left on the landing pad. The arctic wind whistled around them as they stood in silence, then Qrow turned to look at Ozpin.
"Please tell me you know anything about this," Qrow begged, but to his shock Ozpin shook his head.
"Unfortunately, I don't. I don't know why those aliens are human," Ozpin admitted, looking down and taking off his glasses to rub them clean.
"There has to be a reason, though," Qrow insisted. "You told me that the Gods made humanity before they left. Maybe they made humans again somewhere else."
"That is a likely possibility, yes," Ozpin replied, putting his glasses back on and resting both of his hands on the top of his cane. "Assuming, of course, we were the first."
"…Well, that's not terrifying at all," Qrow admitted. He hadn't thought of the possibility that Remnant came after wherever these aliens came from.
"Indeed." Ozpin nodded, then sighed. "What do you think of them?"
Qrow remained silent for a moment, then quietly said, "I don't know yet, Oz. But I don't think they're here to make enemies."
Ozpin nodded, then he turned around and walked back into the hospital, Qrow walking in behind him.
General Ironwood watched as the alien soldier was carefully removed from his armor. The purpose was twofold. For one, they simply had to in order to treat his injuries. It tended to be difficult to do that when a patient is covered head to toe in body armor. At the same time, he also desired to analyze the armor, figure out what it was made of and what it did. His teams had already gathered every sample they could out of the wreckage, from the recovered bodies and the discarded weapons. A few bullheads modified for heavy lifting were even flying out at that very moment to bring the wreckage to Atlas. As tense as the situation was, it was also a remarkable opportunity. One that he would have to be a fool to squander. James Ironwood was many things, but a fool wasn't one of them.
He saw no reason why they shouldn't recover the remains of the crash site. On the one hand, it had landed on Atlesian soil. They could do with it as they wished. If the aliens didn't approve, then Ironwood figured they shouldn't have landed there in the first place. Besides, this was alien technology that was fully capable of leaving atmosphere, something that even Remnant had never been able to do despite the technological advances that they had achieved in the past few decades. If they could learn how to replicate what the aliens did, Remnant might finally be able to escape the confines of their homeworld, free themselves from the Grimm once and for all. At the same time, however, he wasn't about to go desecrate the remains. His scientists would pore over every square inch of the alien technology they could get their hands on, surely, but they would be sure to leave as much of it intact as possible. Especially the bodies. If Ironwood was right, he figured the human aliens would appreciate having the bodies of their fallen recovered.
Once the soldier was removed from his black armor, Ironwood couldn't help but wince at the shape his body was in. Dark bruises and open wounds crisscrossed his flesh like a macabre painting, which the doctors were immediately trying to treat. They hooked him up to a saline solution and pressed a respirator over his face, hoping and praying that he breathed the same air they did, based on the fact that he hadn't asphyxiated yet despite being exposed to their atmosphere for so long. Only when the armor was carted out and one of the doctors closed the blinds of the medical room did he calmly turn around and walk away. Ironwood followed the cart out of the military hospital and into a nearby lab, where scientists and their assistants were already scanning the various bits of technology they had recovered. Chief among them was Doctor Polendina, with Doctor Watts next to him.
"Doctor Polendina, Doctor Watts," Ironwood greeted, walking up to them as they stood over a table containing the mostly intact armor the wounded solider had arrived in. A helmet from a separate set was with it, and the entire armor was arranged in a human-like way. Scattered around the room were various other pieces of armor, all of which were being tested on with various equipment and tools.
"James," Doctor Polendina greeted, Watts adding a quick 'General' along with it.
"Have you found anything yet?"
"We've only just got the materials, Ironwood. You cannot possibly expect us to tell you exactly how they work right now, do you?" Watts indignantly asked. Ironwood breathed in sharply, not intending to sound impatient but now realizing he did.
"Of course not," Ironwood insisted, raising his gloved hand in a placating gesture. "I was just hoping that you could provide a preliminary report."
"Ah, that we can do," Pietro replied, pulling out a scroll and bringing up an image of the armor as well as a few of the weapons they recovered. "This suit is…remarkable, in so many ways. Both in terms of what it can do as well as what it is made out of. Curiously, there's a lack of any Dust in the materials, both in the armor and weapons, but we're still looking into that."
"Explain," Ironwood ordered, and Pietro nodded as he held up the chest plate of the suit, allowing the undersuit to be revealed.
"The armor itself is multi-layered, with each layer adding to the overall protection. Frankly, it makes Atlesian armor look primitive," Pietro admitted. "The innermost layer is made out of Kevlar, as well as a heating and cooling system. I don't know yet how far that system can go, but undoubtedly it makes sure that the wearer is comfortable no matter the environment."
"We also think it can be pressurized," Watts added. "Undoubtedly to operate in the vacuum of space. What is odd is the coating that covers it."
"Coating?" Ironwood asked, eyeing the armor. Watts then rubbed his hand over it, wiping away some of the grime and dust, allowing a slight shine to appear.
"For whatever reason, an optical refractive coating was added on top of this armor, both in the outer layer of the undersuit as well as the external titanium-ceramic armor plating. One that is highly heat resistant. From the small samples of their ship's wreck, it covers that, too. Observe," Watts said as a technician brought over a blowtorch and handed it to the scientist. Watts took it, ignited the flame, then applied it directly to the chest piece. Much to Ironwood's surprise, the fire was dissipated, spreading across the entire armor instead of burning into it.
"Why would they do that?" Ironwood wondered aloud, then turned his attention to the various weapons arranged on tables around the room. Pietro and Watts noticed this immediately, then shook their heads.
"We'll get to them in a moment," Watts insisted. "Frankly, I find those weapons to be rather boring and unimaginative, but I assure you they only fire simple projectiles. They were not using energy weaponry, in case you were wondering."
"Hmm," Ironwood hummed and rubbed his chin, pondering the implications. On one hand, knowing that the aliens still used bullets was an immense relief. Bullets and projectiles were something Remnant knew quite well, and that meant they could be countered. But the fact that an infantry armor used that coating was suspicious. A dropship meant to go into orbit made sense. Atmospheric exit and reentry generated a lot of heat simply from the friction, judging from their failed attempts at getting into space, and having a material to dissipate that was only logical. Putting it onto a soldier was not, unless they intended on dropping these people from orbit. That sounded like suicide to him, like dropping feet first into Hell.
There was another possibility, one that he didn't like to think about. Soldiers and armies need enemies simply to exist. If they used bullets, yet felt the need to give their soldiers protection against high heat, what enemies were they fighting? Ironwood tried not to think about that, but he did so all the same. The more he did, the more he thought back to the melted holes on that ship's hull.
"Perhaps their enemies do," Ironwood spoke his thoughts aloud, dropping his hand back to his side. Pietro and Watts looked at each other for a moment, then nodded at the general.
"That is a possibility. Regardless, I believe it's simply to protect against heat generated during reentry," Pietro declared, then picked up the helmet. "This, however, is very interesting. The entire helmet houses an integrated electronics suite. We don't know yet what all it does, but it appears to be powered by the suit itself through this rucksack."
He gestured to the backpack in question as he held up an empty pistol taken from a nearby table. "The rucksack acts like an armored backpack, one that houses a built-in battery and also has magnetic properties. The magnets act as holsters, strong enough to hold a weapon yet weak enough to easily be taken off. See?"
Pietro placed the pistol against the side of rucksack, where it attached with a faint click. He then held up the rucksack, grunting under the weight before jostling it up and down. True to his word, the pistol did not fall off, yet after he placed the rucksack back onto the table, Pietro simply took the weapon off like it wasn't held down by anything. Ironwood immediately saw the applications of such a technology, and he was impressed.
"Can we make something similar?" he asked, to which Pietro nodded.
"Once I finish up here, I intend to find ways to replicate what they can do. From what I can see, their technology, in many areas, is surprisingly attainable," Pietro admitted.
"Which brings me back to the weapons," Watts cut in. "You'll be happy to know, General, that in that department we've completely eclipsed them. Sure, their weapons are lighter than ours, but their capabilities are severely limited. They're nothing more than high caliber submachineguns, pistols, anti-material rifles that for whatever reason appeared to be used as a sniper rifle, rocket launchers, and grenade launchers. Nothing exotic about them. Indeed, none of them appear to even have mecha-shift capabilities. The most movement any of them have is their rocket launchers, and all that does is rotate the barrels."
"I don't fault them for lack of mecha-shift capabilities," Pietro argued. "We only developed that because of the Grimm and how they inevitably get close to us. The fact that they don't carry any melee weaponry at all beyond these simple knives indicates that they're either all highly skilled hand-to-hand combatants, or that they haven't had to fight anything like the Grimm, and so never saw the need for that."
"Given the state we found them in, I'll go with the second hypothesis," Watts remarked, causing both Pietro and even Ironwood to frown.
"People died, Arthur," Pietro pointed out.
"I meant no disrespect, of course," Watts defended himself, the look on his face betraying his lie. "I'm only pointing out the obvious."
"Be that as it may," Ironwood cut in before the two scientists could descend into a full on argument, "your analysis, Arthur, I fear is severely limited in scope. You are basing an entire species' military capabilities off of the corpses of six individuals and the small arms they brought with them. For all we know, they might have handheld weapons that put ours to shame, ones that they didn't bring down with them for whatever reason."
"Which begs the question: we still don't know why they came down here in the first place. Why?" Arthur asked, showing no signs that he even considered Ironwood's point. Ironwood took a breath and sighed, shaking his head.
"I don't know yet, but if I had to guess, they were scouting," he admitted.
"Scouting for what?" Pietro asked, and Ironwood shook his head again.
"That I don't know, and it worries me," Ironwood replied. The three stood in silence for a moment, then Ironwood felt his scroll vibrate. Someone was calling him, and he excused himself from the two scientists as he stepped outside to take the call.
"This is General Ironwood. Report," he spoke.
"Sir, it's the alien ship," one of his lieutenants reported. "They've sent us a transmission!"
Ironwood froze as the situation was turned on its head yet again. "A transmission? Of what?"
"We're deciphering it now, but we think it might be a first contact package. It contains a lot of images, videos and words."
"I'll send Doctor Polendina over right away," he remarked. "Any word on the teams from the other continents?"
"Not yet, but most of them are still en route." The lieutenant paused, then added, "We have been getting some strange reports, however."
"Clarify," Ironwood ordered.
"We're getting a few transmissions from isolated villages in Vale, Vacuo, and even Menagerie. They wanted to thank Atlas for sending soldiers to protect their villages."
Ironwood felt a tinge of pride at that, and he smiled. Given how controversial his military buildup had been over the past few years, to hear words of thanks sent their way meant a lot.
"Well, that's to be expected. Atlas is always working tirelessly to protect Remnant's people," he boasted.
"I understand that, sir, but the problem is that a few of them came from villages we didn't have any forces stationed near," the lieutenant reported back.
Now Ironwood was confused, and with a raised eyebrow, he asked, "Why would they think it was Atlas?"
"According to the reports, they saw heavily armored soldiers fight the Grimm as they assaulted their villages, leading them away. Some of them even had what they thought were Atlesian Specialists given how fast and powerful they were."
Ironwood narrowed his eyes. "I want a map of those reports sent to me as soon as possible. Something isn't right."
"Of course, sir. It'll be over to you in a few minutes," the lieutenant replied. Ironwood nodded, then bid farewell and walked back into the lab.
"Pietro, I need you back at Atlas Academy," Ironwood called out. "You'll be happy to know the aliens just replied to your transmission."
Ironwood never thought he would see the rotund Pietro Polendina stop what he was doing and run away so fast, and he could only watch in amazement as the scientist left a trail of kicked up snow in this wake as he sprinted as fast as he could towards the nearest landing pad.
Professor Ozpin silently watched through the windows as the doctors and nurses tended to the wounded alien solider. He was simultaneously worried for his survival, as the man's injuries were severe, and at the same time very much confused. Everyone was, which Ozpin felt was more than understandable. It was quite likely that the aliens were also confused as to why humans were on Remnant. More importantly, he wondered what this revelation meant.
He had always believed that Remnant was humanity's home. Before, there was no reason for him not to believe that. Humans had emerged from the dust over a hundred-thousand years ago, and over the eons learned how to harness Dust and Aura to build their present civilization. A civilization far different than the one he was initially born in, a world without Gods watching over them. They had achieved wonders, and Ozpin's every waking moment was spent ensuring that his people would continue to prosper while safeguarding them from those who wished to bring harm and destruction.
But here he sat, staring at a human being from beyond the stars. They confirmed that the alien was, indeed, human. A few genetic differentials, most likely stemming from simple genetic drift over time, but the alien was still human. It was puzzling, and Ozpin had been ruminating over it for the past few hours. Why were there humans from outer space? Did they come from another world? If so, were they born there, or were they taken from Remnant and placed somewhere else? And that brought up the question of whether Remnant even was their homeworld in the first place, which horrified him more than he liked to admit.
Ozpin kept thinking back to the Gods that created them. Two Brothers, one of Light and one of Darkness, who initially created humanity before wiping them out after a foolish rebellion. If his memory and estimations were correct, the previous extinction of humanity and all other life on Remnant, with one notable exception, happened a hundred-thousand years ago. The Gods then left Remnant behind, planting the seeds to allow life to begin again millennia later. Perhaps they were responsible for this second humanity? It was certainly possible. The Gods created Remnant and put humans on it, that didn't exclude them from doing it again somewhere else. Ozpin felt that, in some way at the very least, the Brothers were responsible for this. Either they created both humanities at the same time, or one after another. The question is, which planet came first? Remnant, or whatever world this alien soldier hailed from?
It was then that one of the doctors stepped out of the room, catching Ozpin's attention immediately. He stood up and calmly walked over to him, a dark-skinned Faunus with a lizard tail coming from under his coat, gently tapping his cane against the ground as he did.
"How is he?" Ozpin politely asked, stopping in front of the doctor. He nodded back to the professor and placed his hands on his coat pockets.
"The alien's going to live," he revealed. "We have him hopped up on painkillers and sedatives as his body heals, plus a cast for his fractured wrist. He does have a few broken ribs, but nothing that requires surgery, luckily."
"That's a relief," Ozpin said with a sigh. "Have you found anything interesting about him?"
The doctor shot a look towards the unconscious patient, then back at Ozpin and nodded.
"For the most part, he's completely human," he revealed. "DNA matches up nearly perfectly. He isn't our human, though."
"What do you mean?" Ozpin asked, raising an eyebrow. The doctor sighed and took off his glasses as he looked Ozpin straight in the eyes.
"He doesn't have an Aura, Professor," he revealed, sending Ozpin aback slightly.
"What do you mean, 'he doesn't have an Aura?'"
"He doesn't have one. At all," the doctor clarified. "We thought it was simply broken during the fight against the Grimm, but after a few hours it didn't recover. So, we tried bringing it back up manually, but there was nothing to bring up. Meaning, he never had his Aura unlocked in the first place."
"That isn't uncommon. Most people don't have their Auras unlocked," Ozpin noted. Even some soldiers and militia didn't have their Auras unlocked either, but that usually didn't last very long.
"We know, but when we tried to unlock it so that it could heal his body, nothing came up. At all." The doctor narrowed his eyes. "Professor, he doesn't have an Aura because he couldn't have Aura. Not him, and most likely the other soldiers who died. If not even their fighters have Aura, I think it's safe to assume the rest of their people don't, either."
Ozpin's eyes widened slightly as he absorbed this information. An entire people without Aura? It was almost unheard of. Of course, it took centuries for Aura use among people to be discovered, and centuries more to have it proliferate.
"Hmm, perhaps their different environment meant they never discovered it?" Ozpin suggested.
"That is a possibility, but it's also just as likely that he simply can't because he's an alien."
"Perhaps." Ozpin nodded, then tilted his head towards the door. "Do you mind if I try unlocking it? I am highly trained and proficient in Aura, and have unlocked many over the years."
"Be my guest, but be ready to be disappointed," the doctor replied, stepping to the side and allowing Ozpin to walk into the room.
The other nurses watched silently as Ozpin stood over the man while he thought on how best to proceed. Then, he closed his eyes and placed his hands gently over the man's forehead and chest, concentrating as hard as he could. The ritual he was attempting to perform was ancient, and to most people it required a chant in order to reach the level of concentration and focus required for it to be successful. Ozpin, however, was focused and experienced enough to do it without such a guide. Soon, his body glowed dark green as his Aura flared to life, traveling from his body and into the unconscious soldier. The nurses looked on in awe as Ozpin pushed deeper and deeper, trying to reach the man's soul and pull something out. He was able to feel something, yet try as he might it would not budge, seeming to "slip" from the touch of his soul no matter how he approached it. He hadn't felt something like this in a long, long time.
Eventually, the strain on his own body grew too much, and so he stopped. He breathed heavily for a few moments, then recollected himself and stepped back.
"I told you it wouldn't work. Atlesian technology couldn't even bring it up," the doctor stated.
"No, it did not, but I felt something," Ozpin noted. "This man does have a soul, which means, theoretically, he can have Aura."
"Then why can't we bring it up? He's human, and our Auras activate all the time. Why didn't his?" the doctor asked.
"I don't have the answer to that right now, unfortunately," Ozpin admitted. "If I had to guess, it is possible that the slight genetic differences widened to the point where they are technically a different species of human."
"Like a subspecies?" the doctor asked, and Ozpin nodded.
"Precisely, much like the difference between humans and faunus. I've dabbled in studying ancient cultures from time to time, and there is evidence to support that when Aura use started becoming prevalent among humans, it was more difficult for Faunus' Auras to activate. It took centuries for Aura to cross between our peoples. This might very well be the exact same scenario, just…amplified."
Ozpin then pursed his lips and looked at the soldier. "Of course, if you're a more religious person, there are tales that explain the origins of Aura to begin with. According to many of them, Aura was not gifted to humanity until we ate from the fruit of the gods. Perhaps his people never ate that fruit."
"I'll believe the subspecies hypothesis," the doctor dryly concluded, and Ozpin shrugged.
"That is entirely fair," Ozpin remarked, then his scroll vibrated. He pulled it up and saw a message from General Ironwood, which he read then pocketed the device once again. "If you'll excuse me, I need to talk to the General."
The doctor and nurses nodded, then Ozpin calmly turned back around and walked away. After traversing through the hallways of the hospital, he emerged at one of the many landing pads that were connected to it, where a bullhead was waiting for him. Ozpin gave a quick, polite nod to the waiting pilot as he got in, then the vehicle rose off the ground and flew towards Atlas Academy. Without even needing to be told where to go, Ozpin stepped off the bullhead once it landed and made his way towards Ironwood's office.
"General," Ozpin greeted as he walked inside. Qrow, Leonardo, Glynda and Pietro were also there, standing around a holotable in the center of the room.
"Professor Ozpin. Good, you're here. Now, we can proceed," Ironwood stated, standing up from his seat and folding his arms behind his back. "As you're all aware, a few hours ago the alien warship sent a transmission to the entire planet. Each kingdom got the exact same message, which contained a series of images, videos, and audio. Pietro?"
"Of course, James," Pietro said, pressing a button on his scroll. The holotable sprung to life, and a series of photographs and videos appeared. Among them, they saw a man with grey hair and slightly wrinkled skin standing at the front of the ship's bridge, wearing a sharp military-style uniform that wouldn't look out of place in Atlas.
"We believe this man, whom we have designated as the Captain, is the leader of these human aliens," Pietro explained. "James was right, and it is now abundantly clear that this is a military warship."
"Did they reveal anything of note?" Leonardo asked. "Can we even understand them?"
"Right now, no. Unfortunately," Pietro regretfully informed the Mistralian headmaster. "Despite us both being human, our languages are completely different. They did, however, attempt to send binary code transmissions to us, which my team is currently working on fully translating."
"Binary…isn't that the ones and zeroes that computers use?" Qrow asked, not intimately familiar with programming. When Pietro nodded in affirmation, Qrow continued, "What is that going to do if we don't even have the same language? Those two little numbers can mean something entirely different to us both."
"Which is why we're taking our time. In fact, we were hoping that once the soldier we recovered wakes up, we might be able to work on an actual translation."
"Speaking of which, the doctors believe he is going to survive," Ozpin revealed, "but he does not have the capability to use Aura at all. I tried reaching in to activate it, but nothing shifted."
"You mean those soldiers went down here and fought Grimm without any Aura?" Glynda gently asked. When Ozpin nodded, her eyes went soft. "It's a miracle they lasted as long as they did."
"Indeed. Speaks volumes as to how well trained they were," Ironwood noted, a hint of respect in his voice towards fellow warriors. "Which brings me to my next point. Huntsmen teams were sent to track down the scouts once they landed, and unfortunately none of the teams were able to arrive prior to the alien's departure. We have, however, encountered evidence that they all came into conflict with the Grimm."
A series of photos were brought up, showing various locations across Remnant. Qrow recognized many of them. Lake Matsu in Anima, an oasis in Vacuo, and the frosty mountains of Solitas among others.
"What happened at Lake Matsu?" Leonardo asked, horrified at the level of devastation wrought upon its famous floating islands.
"We believe that team encountered a Lancer nest hidden among the islands, then detonated some of the local Dust deposits to make their escape," Ironwood answered. "Destruction to the natural environment, however, is not the issue. The issue is that they didn't go entirely unnoticed."
"What do you mean?" Glynda asked.
"Over the past few hours, Atlas has received several reports across the planet thanking us for sending soldiers to defend isolated villages," Ironwood explained. Qrow wanted to roll his eyes at the blatant chest pounding, but he remained silent and allowed Ironwood to continue. "The problem is, many of those reports came from villages we had no forces near. Coincidentally, those villages were near the approximate landing sites of the aliens."
That caught everyone's attention, and they looked at the holographic projection as a map of Remnant was shown. At first, it was blank, merely showing the kingdoms' borders. Then a layer was added on top, showing the landing sites of the dropships with big red dots. Finally, a third layer was added, showing several villages with yellow dots that were within twenty miles of the landing sites. One of those locations was a fishing village along the southern Solitas coast, which was right next to the crash site they discovered. It was obvious to Ozpin what the correlation meant, and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and smiled.
"They intervened," Ozpin breathlessly noted. "They saw the villages under attack by the Grimm and tried to save them, putting themselves at risk to do so."
"That's what I said!" Pietro exclaimed boisterously. "These aliens are not our enemy, and their actions proved it!"
"Please tell me you see that, General?" Glynda asked. Slowly, everyone's attention turned towards Ironwood, who after a moment of silence, nodded.
"I do," he admitted. "These soldiers did not have to intervene, yet they did. I still don't trust them, not completely, but I no longer believe they are an immediate threat."
"Well, that's a relief," Qrow noted, leaning back against the wall. "Now what?"
"Now, we work on a translation," Pietro answered. "If we can communicate with each other, then we can finally move beyond all of this."
"If I may, when the soldier wakes up, I would like to work with him," Ozpin volunteered. "Seeing a civilian face might make him more at ease than appearing to be a military prisoner."
Ironwood thought it over for a minute, then nodded. "I'll allow it, but I want my men nearby at all times. Just in case."
Ozpin shook his head. "I can handle myself against an unarmed, injured, and Aura-less soldier just fine, General. Unless you think I'm incapable?"
"I wasn't trying to—" Ironwood hastily tried to correct himself, then stopped and sighed. "Fine, I see your point."
Ozpin chuckled, "It's alright. I'm just happy we finally have a way forward from here."
Altas Military Hospital, Kingdom of Atlas, Solitas
November 30th, 69 A.G.W. 11:01 Hours (Remnant Calendar)
With the realization that the aliens were not their enemies, Ozpin finally got a full night's sleep. It felt as though years of stress were being lifted off of him, yet it had only been a few days. He supposed first contact with aliens, even human aliens, did that to a person. Already the various international news outlets and media were dissecting each and every inch of the first contact package the aliens sent down, which he idly glanced over while sipping a cup of hot chocolate from his mug. Among the myriad array of topics being discussed, their abundant human nature and apparent militarization were the most prevalent, alongside their now known interventions against Grimm attacks. People were both confused as to why these aliens were human and concerned that they might be part of a totalitarian regime that sought to forcibly absorb them into their ranks. Ozpin had to admit that possibility had crossed his mind, but he liked to think that their cousins, as he supposed they were, had grown beyond that.
"Why do I get the feeling that Atlas and these guys, whoever they are, are going to get along just fine?" Qrow asked, walking alongside his mentor with Glynda as well.
"What makes you think that?" Glynda dryly asked, her eyes glued to the scroll in her hands.
"I don't know. Call it a gut feeling," Qrow quipped back with a nonchalant shrug. "Assuming they don't start shooting each other first."
"That's probably not going to happen."
"Call me pessimistic, then. Still, something about them rubs me the wrong way," Qrow admitted. "How they acted towards us made no sense, like they first assumed we were an enemy then decided otherwise. Why?"
Ozpin didn't have an answer to that and shrugged after taking another sip. "I suppose, once the soldier we recovered wakes up, we'll get the answer to that question."
"You know, Oz? Part of me hopes we don't," Qrow declared with a slight frown. "If they have enemies of their own, and my instincts are screaming at me that they do, we should have no part of it unless we have no other choice. Even then, only once we have the full picture."
Ozpin stopped and turned around to look his head agent in the eyes. "Qrow, I assure you that the last thing I will allow is for Remnant to be dragged into a war we do not need to be in. If anything, I would like to avoid conflict altogether."
"Hopefully, that won't happen," Glynda said, looking up from her scroll towards her colleagues. "Still, the sooner we find out what lies out there, the better. I hate this, not knowing what's going on. It makes me feel powerless."
Ozpin nodded sympathetically, saying, "I understand completely, Glynda. Regardless, we shouldn't be focusing entirely on the negatives. This is a momentous occasion, and we shouldn't squander it through fear."
Qrow and Glynda nodded in agreement at that, then together they continued walking through the hallways of Atlas Academy. The tense atmosphere that had plagued Remnant since the aliens' arrival could still be felt, but it was at the same time noticeably lesser. The students were still kept inside their rooms, however, and a few patrols of armed soldiers greeted them as they passed.
Eventually, they found themselves at an open courtyard in Atlas Academy, one that overlooked the rest of the city. Despite the frigid air they found themselves in, the three of them had to admit that the view was spectacular. They could see for miles all around them, from the bustling streets of Mantle beneath them to the icy tundra of Solitas just beyond the walls.
"Funny. The last time I looked out there, it seemed so big," Ozpin mused. "Now it just seems so small."
"Yeah, it does. Doesn't it?" Qrow muttered in agreement, with Glynda silently nodding. They all just stood there for the longest time, silently thinking to themselves on what would happen next. It was nearly impossible to guess; there were so many possibilities. Would first contact bring untold riches, peace, and prosperity, or plunge the world into unfathomable darkness and death? Ozpin did not know, and that scared him more than anything.
Then he and the others heard a door open behind them. They turned around and spotted an Atlesian solider, who stopped before Professor Ozpin and gave a professional nod.
"Professor, your presence is requested in the hospital," the soldier declared.
"May I ask why?" Ozpin asked, already hearing the whirling engines of a bullhead descending towards them.
"The wounded alien woke up, Professor, and I was told you were set to interrogate him," the soldier answered.
"Ah, I see. I wouldn't call it an 'interrogation,' though. Perhaps 'dialogue' or 'conversation' would be the more apt term."
"You can call it whatever you want. I'm just a grunt," the soldier joked with a slight smile. Ozpin chuckled in amusement, then he and his colleagues stepped onto the bullhead and sat down as it flew off towards the hospital. When they arrived, Doctor Polendina was waiting for them, not caring as gusts of wind from the bullhead's engines ruffled his hair and coat.
"Professors, this way, please," Pietro called out as they disembarked. They followed the portly doctor without a fuss, eager to escape the cold as quickly as possible.
"What's the situation?" Qrow asked, passing by teams of Atlesian personnel in the hospital hallways.
"The soldier woke up about thirty minutes ago," Pietro explained. "While we were waiting for you to arrive, a few members of my team attempted to start communicating with him. He has proven to be…uncooperative."
"'Uncooperative?' How?" Glynda asked just as they entered the hallway outside the room the soldier was being housed in. Teams of scientists, alongside General Ironwood, were looking inside. Rather than answer, Pietro simply pointed his arm towards the one-way window, where Doctor Watts was attempting, unsuccessfully, to talk with the alien.
"Once again, my name is Doctor Watts," Watts slowly stated, failing to disguise the angered scowl on his face while a series of pictures were being projected onto a wall behind him. "You are in the kingdom of Atlas. We mean you no harm."
"Graves, Ethan. Sergeant. 90515-94152-EG," the alien coldly answered through an alien tongue, his steely-eyed gaze boring into Watts.
"Gagh…" Watts growled, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth before rubbing his hands through his hair. Ozpin raised an eyebrow then shifted a sideways glance towards Pietro, who shrugged.
"That is how," Pietro finally answered. "Every statement, and every question, meets the exact same response. We have no idea what it means, and he's shown no signs of letting up anytime soon."
"I see," Ozpin said, turning back to the scene.
"Can you say anything else?" Watts demanded. Almost as though in response, the alien repeated himself.
"Graves, Ethan. Sergeant. 90515-94152-EG."
Ozpin pursed his lips in thought, then he heard Ironwood chuckle. They looked at the general, silently demanding an explanation, and through a small smile Ironwood turned his attention towards them.
"I just figured it out," he revealed. "He's saying his name, over and over again, as an anti-interrogation tactic. He thinks he's being interrogated, so he's reacting accordingly."
"Well, when you have a grade-A asshole like Doctor Watts over there," Qrow pointed out as Watts appeared ready to start shouting at the man, "can't say I blame him."
"Arthur can be…difficult to get along with, admittedly," Pietro replied, a small frown on his face, "but it wasn't just him. I tried talking to him myself, too, and got the same result."
"Hmm," Ozpin hummed to himself. Apparently this was going to be more difficult than he thought. He then had an idea, and he looked at Pietro Polendina and asked, "Is there a kitchen nearby?"
"Uh, yes. Just down the hall and to the left," Pietro answered, slightly confused as to where Ozpin was going.
"Perfect. Qrow, I need you to go to the store and buy a few things for me," Ozpin asked, already walking towards the kitchen. Without so much as a complaint, Qrow complied as he walked out of the hospital and back out into the arctic air. At the same time, Ozpin sent a list to the veteran Huntsman while he prepared the kitchen. A few minutes later, a slightly snow-covered Qrow returned, carrying bags of various ingredients and food that Ozpin gratefully took.
In the meantime, Watts grew closer and closer to his wit's end. The alien soldier was proving to be completely stubborn, uncooperative, and a pain in his neck. In other words, a perfect soldier. Watts could tell that Ironwood was growing more and more impressed as time went on, which only added to his fury. His composure was worsening by the second, and now he was pacing back and forth in front of the soldier.
"Do you think this is funny, wasting our time?" Watts asked.
"Graves, Ethan. Sergeant. 90515-94152-EG."
"Of course, you say that. Greatest hits, here," Watts droned, letting out an annoyed sigh. He caught a glimpse of a faint smirk on the alien's bruised face that quickly went away, and Watts felt his eye twitch in anger. Before he could say anything else, though, the room's intercom came to life.
"Doctor Watts, let Professor Ozpin take it from here," General Ironwood ordered. Watts was more than happy to, hastily stomping out of the room and brushing past Professor Ozpin, not even caring about what the headmaster was holding in his hands.
Ozpin gave Watts' departing form a brief glance, then walked inside as the door closed behind him. In his hands, much to Ironwood's and the others' surprise, was a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies with a glass of milk held in the other. Placing the food and drink on a table, he gently wheeled it next to the alien soldier while sitting down in front of him.
"You must be hungry," Ozpin said, placing his cane against the ground and holding it to his leg. "I'll admit it isn't the healthiest fare to serve an injured patient, but I hope you'll enjoy it regardless. Please, have some."
The soldier eyed it for a moment, then stared right back at Ozpin and stated, "Graves, Ethan. Sergeant. 90515-94152-EG."
"Yes, I figured you would say that," Ozpin replied, letting it wash over him without issue. He then pointed to the plate of cookies then to himself and asked, "May I?"
The soldier said nothing, remaining as stoic as humanly possible. Ozpin merely shrugged and took the silence as a yes, then took a single cookie out from the pile and took a small bite.
"Hmm," he gently hummed in satisfaction, letting the savory flavor fall upon his tongue. "I must admit, I've always had a fondness for chocolate. I hope your people have something like it. A world without chocolate sounds rather dull, if you ask me."
"Graves, Ethan. Sergeant. 90515-94152-EG."
"Yes, of course. I suppose whatever it is that you are saying is your name? Apologies for not understanding you," Ozpin said through an apologetic smile. "Despite both of us being human, our languages are completely different. Tell me, do your people have only one language, or do you have many?"
"Graves, Ethan. Sergeant. 90515-94152-EG."
"Ah, I see." Ozpin nodded as though he had gained some deep insight from the exact same response. He pulled a small box from his pocket and placed it on the table in front of him.
"I have something for you," Ozpin revealed, tapping his hand on top of the small box. "We recovered everything we could from your crash site. I'm sorry to say you were the only one who made it. You must have lost a few friends down there, and you have my sympathies."
"Graves, Ethan. Sergeant. 90515—" the soldier started, then cut himself off as Ozpin opened the box, revealing small metal tags attached to chains. The soldier stared at them silently, then looked up questioningly towards Ozpin.
"I don't know what your people call them," Ozpin gently began, "but here, on Remnant, we call them dog tags. Medallions meant to identify fallen soldiers. We recovered as many as we could, but I'm afraid some were completely lost."
The soldier gently picked up one of the dog tags, holding it by a chain as he read the engraved inscription. Ozpin continued, saying, "You were in dire straits when we found you. Verge of death, really. It was touch and go for a while, I must admit, but you pulled through. Part of me wonders if that was due to us or, instead, you."
The alien solider looked up at Ozpin questioningly, and the professor saw his chance and seized it.
"Neither of us are enemies. If anything, I should be thanking you." He pulled up an image of the village he believed the soldier actively protected, and judging by the knowing look he gave it, Ozpin was correct. He added, "This village would have been overrun by the Grimm, those creatures that attacked you. Hundreds would have died before reinforcements could arrive, but you and your men managed to pull them away and save it. You have our gratitude, and I believe there is much we can offer each other. So please, can we have an honest discussion?"
The soldier looked at Ozpin once again. A silence fell between them that felt like it lasted an eternity. Minutes seemed to stretch into hours, and Ozpin worried he might have reached too far too quickly. Finally, however, the soldier swallowed and leaned slightly forward.
"I'm going to take a wild guess that you want to talk. Alright, you have my attention," he said using alien words that were completely different than what he said before. Ozpin took a moment to register the difference in phrases, then as their guest reached over to the plate of cookies, he smiled and nodded.
[~][~]
Hello, everyone, and welcome to the latest chapter of Dust and Echoes! Special thanks to NaanContributor and Jesse K for all their help in bringing this story to life. The UNSC and Remnant are now, finally, properly talking to each other. Where things go from here will be revealed in due time.
Now, before I get to the Q&A, I want to say something. Over the past few days, I have been getting spammed by guest reviews asking for when the next update is coming. I like guest reviews, and I want to allow them, but at the same time I do not want to receive ten reviews within the span of two days all asking variations of "when is the next chapter coming out." As much as I love writing fan fiction, this is still a hobby of mine, and I'll tell you right now that the story will be updated when it is ready. Requests for a status update will not speed up the process. So please, do not ask in your reviews for status updates. If I keep getting bombarded with them like I had been, I may be forced to turn off guest reviews which is something I do want want to do.
Anyway, now onto the Q&A:
NRF: I'll be delving into that when the story gets to that point. Rest assured, that will be brought up, and I do have a reason for why things will go the way they go.
onearmedduck: Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. As to your question, soon. I won't specify any more than that.
I Am The Prophet: You will see when it happens.
Shadowstorm-Vash: Thank you. One of the things I really want to get right is the feel of the UNSC, the Covenant, and everything else from the Halo side of the crossover. That includes the ODSTs, and I want them to feel like the super-badass spec-ops soldiers that they are. As for Sergeant Johnson, he's coming.
Knighthunter911700: Luckily, as you can see, it didn't turn out all bad. If anything, things are looking up. At least Ironwood is no longer acting trigger happy. And you are correct, I do not believe Remnant has gunpowder as they likely just use powdered Dust for it. In fact, they use Dust for a lot of things, which will be shown more in depth as time goes on.
Guardian788: Thank you, I'm glad you feel that way. As for the cliffhangers, in this particular arc it simply came across that way due to how the story was structured. Luckily, this chapter ended on a much more final note, which was on purpose as this is the half-way point of the first arc. The First Contact Arc, if you will. We have several arcs planned for the story, some of which will be faster than others.
SulliMike23: The answer to that will be revealed in due time.
daggercloak000: Don't worry, I won't. ODSTs may not be SPARTANs or Huntsmen, but they're still badasses and I intend to show that.
Vein Bloodborne: Luckily, things turned out pretty well.
Dragon lord Syed 101: Oh trust me, Cole's reaction to how crazy Remnant can be will say a lot. And yes, Qrow will need a drink.
That's it for this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. Let me know what you guys think and have a nice day! Stay safe!
