Dust and Echoes (RWBY/Halo)
Chapter 19: The Revolution Will Not Be Civilized
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Vyraj, Volga System
City of Novaya Moskva
May 8th, 2541, 1513 Hours (UNSC Military Calendar)
Qrow Branwen groaned and hung his head as they walked out of what must've been the fifth store they'd visited in the past hour alone. What had once been a simple shopping trip had quickly turned into an outright tour of the city, with Johnson acting as their illustrious guide. To his credit, he was certainly far more entertaining than the stuffy, official tour guides that the UNSC had previously saddled them with. Even still, the novelty of the entire thing had quickly worn out, especially since he picked out Ruby and Yang's gifts in the first stop. They were necklace-sized holographic projectors, able to record personal messages, images, or even limited videos and display them in a three-dimensional holographic interface. It was something that Remnant was already working on, but this was still more advanced and alien so his nieces would find it amazing regardless. He also planned to get some kid-sized versions of the ushankas the UNSC had provided for them, since they'd actually kind of grown on him. Patch's winters were at least cold enough to wear them. At the same time, however, since the others decided to hop onboard the tourism train, that meant they all had to find something.
"I'm sorry, guys. Nothing in there spoke to me," Casper Marine apologized, a sheepish grin on her face as she rubbed the back of her blue hair. While Qrow lightly glared at her in slight annoyance from the corner of his eye, Sepia merely patted her on the back and smiled warmly.
"No need to apologize, Casper," Sepia said. "We'll find something here that fits you perfectly."
"Yeah, after fifteen more stores," Qrow muttered under his breath, and beside him he heard Thomas chuckle slightly. Qrow glanced at the goat faunus, who was trying his best to cover his amusement before he noticed Qrow's attention on him. At first, he said nothing but coughed into his fist in an effort to compose himself, then he leaned closer to Qrow conspiratorially.
"I've worked with Casper for years, try thirty," Thomas joked, and Qrow couldn't help but snort. That caught the others' attention, and both Huntsmen immediately began to act nonchalant. Their companions eyed them suspiciously for a few moments, then shrugged and began to move on.
All of them, except for Casper, were holding small bags containing souvenirs they intended to bring back with them to Remnant. With the UNSC generously footing the bill, price was no object, although simple decency kept them from exploiting that. They were here on Vyraj as diplomats, not tourists, and the last thing they wanted was to cause unnecessary problems from simple greed.
"Alright," Johnson announced, clapping his hands together as several cars, trucks, and vans passed by on the busy street. With everyone's attention drawn to the marine, he continued, "There's a clothing store not too far from here. Boasts some of the finest fur coats on the colony, if you're into that sort of thing."
"Your people still make fur coats?" Thomas asked, shooting his head back in slight disgust alongside Casper and Sepia. Qrow merely shrugged. Even if the UNSC did still use fur, he didn't have a problem with it. Fur coats were warm, and you tended to not worry about those sorts of things when growing up in a tribe of bandits, constantly worrying about freezing to death whenever winter rolled around.
Much to their relief, Johnson shook his head and replied, "Nah, we stopped doing that on an industrial scale centuries ago. On less developed Outer Colonies it was more common, but generally people used that synthetic stuff. Apparently, you can't really tell the difference."
"Oh, that's a relief," Casper replied, then smiled and perked herself up. "That sounds perfect, Sergeant. I've always wanted to wear one. They've always seemed, I don't know, fancy."
"Last time I was here, I saw 'em. They are," Johnson confirmed, then waved for them to follow him as they began to walk down the sidewalk.
Stuffing his free hand into his pocket, Qrow followed the others, his back slightly hunched forward. Around him, he saw the people of Vyraj going about their day. Some were working in small office buildings, seen through darkened windows. There were families exiting candy shops, the children happily digging into their sweets with undisguised glee. Most were simply walking or driving to wherever it was that they needed to go. Overall, it was a very banal and plain situation that Qrow found himself in, one that he appreciated greatly. Plain and simple meant life, and after seeing so much death, it was a welcome change of pace. One that brought a small smile to his face.
That smile was quickly dashed as the hairs on the back on his neck perked up. The other Huntsmen flinched as a sense of danger suddenly washed over them. For a moment, Qrow was confused, trying to determine what was going on, only to suddenly fall to his knees as a massive explosion went off a block behind them. The shockwave sent the confused and now terrified civilians to the ground, shattering glass, causing parked cars to blare their alarms, and a few people who were driving to suddenly lose control and crash. With wide eyes, Qrow and the others turned around and stared as dark smoke rose in the air.
He acted immediately, dropping his bag and sprinting towards the scene of the explosion. Behind him, the rest of the Huntsmen and Huntresses did the same, Johnson coming along as well. They reached ground zero in a few moments, and almost immediately Qrow began to take stock of the situation. Dozens of mangled bodies were laying strewn on the street, shards of glass and chunks of metal and concrete around them. Others had the debris embedded into them like pincushions. Dark red blood was staining the white snow-covered street, peppered with bits of gore.
Painful moans echoed around him, drowned out by the blaring alarms. Most were wordless, simply expressions of the utter agony the victims felt. Others were tearfully crying out for help, unable to move from where they had fallen. There were some that were able to walk around, but they were dazed and confused, covered by dust and ash. To Qrow's horror, he saw one man walk around with a vacant look in his eye, a shard of metal sticking out of his face as he held his severed right arm in his left.
His observation lasted for only a moment, and Qrow immediately got to work. Rushing to the nearest victim, he began tearing off his clothing to bandage or tourniquet the worst injuries. As he worked, the other Huntsmen and Huntresses followed his example and began to help as best they could. Johnson had even pulled out a med pack he had kept on his person. Using a small metal canister, he started applying a white, foamy material onto the most severe wounds. If Qrow remembered his briefing correctly, the substance he was using was biofoam. It wouldn't completely heal the victims of this attack, but it just might save them long enough to get to a hospital.
Looking around, he noticed a few civilian medical stations with a brand name he couldn't understand nearby holding cannisters of what he assumed was biofoam. Realizing they could be useful, Qrow snapped his fingers towards Casper to catch her attention. As soon as she looked at him, he pointed towards the station. She figured out what he meant quickly, and dashed over to grab as many of the canisters as possible. Thomas went further, rushing into a nearby pharmacy and coming back out with as many biofoam cannisters as he could carry.
As they worked, administering bandages and biofoam to everyone they could, Qrow couldn't help but hear an unceasing wail of agony from those injured around him. He couldn't understand the words they were saying, but he understood the meaning all the same. They were scared, hurt, confused, calling out for friends, family, and loved ones. What broke his heart the most was the sound of a young boy letting out a terrified wail, tears, dirt, and blood dripping down his face. But Qrow couldn't let himself be distracted by them. He had to focus on the task at hand, or more people would die.
He did, however, momentarily glance at the mangled wreck of a van, and narrowed his eyes. It didn't take much to realize that the center of the explosion was right where that van was parked. The immediate area around it was the most damaged, and the pattern of debris spread out from it. Looking at it, he realized what had happened. The van, most likely through a car bomb, exploded, killing dozens of people who just happened to have the bad luck of being nearby. Had they gone right instead of left, perhaps they might've been caught up in it as well.
"Branwen, Branwen!" he heard a voice call out, and a strong hand gripped his shoulder. Startled, Qrow looked over his shoulder to see Johnson looking down at him. Dozens of first responders were rushing past, and the flashing lights from an ambulance cast the street in a flickering red and blue glow.
"We need to go, now!" Johnson ordered, and Qrow looked up at him incredulously. Before he could even begin to argue, Johnson continued, "You've done all you can, Branwen. There's nothing else you can do. We'll take it from here."
Qrow wanted to protest, to insist that he stay and help. His instincts, honed over many years in the field as a Huntsman, were telling him that he needed to make the people who did this pay. But, after a moment of staring at Johnson's unyielding face, he sighed. Reluctantly, he stood up and followed Johnson towards an arriving black car, where armed ODSTs stepped out and ushered him and the rest of the Huntsmen delegation inside. As soon as Johnson hopped in with them, the car sped off, leaving ground zero behind. Qrow watched as they departed, with more emergency services arriving every moment. At the same time, he heard, felt, and saw more explosions ring out across the city, and his heart stopped.
"Brothers have mercy," Casper muttered, her face glued to the window in horror.
"Who did this? The Covenant?" Thomas asked, forgoing his seatbelt in favor of sitting backwards in his chair to look out the rear windshield.
"No," Johnson answered, an enraged scowl in his face, "but I think I have a pretty damn good idea."
Qrow was the only one to figure out who Johnson was referring to after some pondering, due to the particular attention he'd paid to the unsavory parts of the UNSC. It didn't spring to the others' minds as readily until he hissed through his teeth, "Insurrectionists."
They looked at him for a moment, their eyes widening in realization. After a moment, they frowned, then Qrow looked at his bloodstained hands and forearms. He flexed them for a few moments, then clenched his fists tightly.
"They're going to pay for this," Sepia growled, and Johnson nodded.
"Yes, they will," Johnson replied, and the car was silent as emergency sirens blared across the city of Novaya Moskva.
Chernobog Orbital Shipyard
Sienna Khan ran her hands through the warm running water, washing the rest of the stained blood off her skin. There had been so much, with the crude explosive causing far more injuries than actual fatalities. She supposed that was the point. Seeing people thrashing around in agony was a lot more visceral than just a bunch of dead bodies, making for a much more powerful message. Especially since she knew not all of the people she and the rest of her White Fang were able to help would survive. UNSC medical technology was leaps and bounds ahead of Remnant's, but there was no way they'd be able to save all of them. It was simply impossible. That would only serve to hammer in whatever point these terrorists were trying to make even more.
As she walked out of the bathroom with a sigh and shake of her head, her attention was immediately drawn to the Huntsmen and Huntresses watching the wall-mounted television monitors inside the breakroom the UNSC had exclusively assigned to them for the duration of their stay. Every team down on the planet had immediately dropped whatever they were doing to provide aid. To varying degrees, everyone was shaken. The Ace-Ops were the most outwardly composed, keeping their attention squarely on the news reports still coming in, although Elm and especially Harriet had this undercurrent of utter rage lurking beneath the surface. Every so often, yellow sparks would dance across Harriet's skin, prompting Vine or Clover to gently place their hand on her shoulder in order to calm her down.
Grouped together on a large sofa were the Happy Huntresses. Unlike their Atlesian brethren, they were completely unable to hide their emotions. Joanna and May were the most enraged, scowling heavily while clenching their fists hard enough to turn the knuckles white. Fiona increasingly looked horrified, covering her mouth with her hands while her ears drooped. Robyn, though, sent Sienna aback slightly. At first glance, she appeared calm and collected, but it didn't take long to see the restrained, cold rage that had consumed her. If looks could kill, every single person in this room would be dead just as collateral damage. Sienna decided that she liked Robyn, then shifted her attention towards the Vale group and her White Fang. They were mostly the same as the Happy Huntresses, a mixture of horror and rage filling them. Even Gron looked unsettled, although Yuri spent most of his time simply trying to comfort a lightly crying Abby. As she expected, Qrow Branwen remained utterly calm and focused, much like Robyn herself. A picture of professionalism masking the anger bubbling from within.
"These attacks were just the beginning!" the man on the screen boisterously revealed, speaking what Sienna assumed was Russian in a thick accent. He was standing in front of a blood-red flag depicting their logo, armed men carrying rifles Sienna didn't recognize beside him. "While any loss of life is tragic, the UNSC's continued despotic occupation has made it necessary! Until their fascist regime departs this planet and allows Vyraj to become an independent world, the Worker's Liberation Party will be forced to continue escalating! We will not stop, we will not surrender, until Vyraj is free!"
The screen promptly shifted to an anchorwoman, staring grimly into the camera as the man on the video was consigned to a corner box. She then spoke, "That was the official statement released by the Worker's Liberation Party, claiming responsibility for the attacks today that have tragically killed one-hundred and fifty-two people, and injuring over two-hundred more. Governor Romanov and the planetary government have condemned these attacks and have vowed not to surrender to these terrorists. Already, local UNSC forces are working on apprehending these Insurrectionists and bringing them to justice. We will provide more updates as they come in on this developing story."
"Gods, what a mess," Qrow muttered, leaning forward in his chair and resting his chin on his propped up hands.
"Who would do something like this?" Abby tearfully asked, her voice broken up as she struggled to comprehend the scale of this tragedy.
"People who believe so strongly in their cause that they're willing to do anything to see it come to fruition," Clover answered without turning around to face her. "They're the most dangerous kind of people. That kind of belief and dedication…it makes them act irrational."
Sienna couldn't help but notice Qrow glance in their direction for a split second, and she frowned at the unspoken implication. She refused to give him any response though, instead letting out a huff before sitting down next to her team. Crossing her arms over her chest, she watched as more information came in in silence, her scowl growing deeper and deeper the more she absorbed.
"This doesn't make any sense," May finally said, breaking the silence. "The Covenant is breathing down everyone's necks, yet they're still fighting each other. Why? Don't they realize they have bigger problems?"
"The same thing could be said about us with the Grimm, yet we squabble with each other all the time," Qrow grimly pointed out. "As stupid as it is, people fight over a lot of petty shit when they really shouldn't. Land, resources, ideologies, people will find any excuse to kill each other if they want to. Especially if they're nursing a grudge."
"You think that's what's happening here?" Clover asked, turning his head to look at the veteran Huntsman, and Qrow nodded.
"I do," he confirmed. "The UNSC and the Insurrectionists have been at each other's throats for decades, each viewing the other as an existential threat to their way of life. Both have committed countless atrocities towards the other, with innocent civilians caught in the crossfire. Just because the Covenant showed up and presented a new problem doesn't mean the old problems just went away."
Sienna nodded, feeling that Qrow had a point. Over the course of her entire life, she had witnessed countless acts of undue hostility towards her fellow Faunus at the hands of humans, hostility that was both unwarranted and, frankly, stupid. There were better things to worry about than having to serve a paying customer with antlers on their heads. While Sienna was more than willing to retaliate against those who transgressed against the Faunus, though, never once did she lose sight of the fact that the true enemy was the Grimm. The Grimm didn't care whether someone was a human or a faunus. To them, they were one and the same, equally deserving of nothing more than death. Yet, despite that existential threat that all of Remnant faced, discrimination and prejudice still ran rampant across the planet. Sure, some kingdoms were better than others, but it was still far too much of a problem to be anywhere near justified. She supposed the conflict between the UNSC and the Insurrectionists went along the same lines.
"But most Insurrectionists stopped once the threat of the Covenant was revealed," Abby pointed out, clearly remembering their heated conversation with Lieutenant Dare just before the attack.
"She also said that the ones who are left are fanatics," Yuri reminded, then pointed to the image of the Insurrectionist leader on the screen. "I think it's safe to say that this man is one of them."
"Can't help but wonder if these people were always like that, or if the UNSC pushed them into doing it," Gron grumbled, sinking further into the couch. "All they had to do was give a little, but they didn't. The UNSC didn't want to lose any of their power. Now look what's happened."
"The UNSC aren't detonating car bombs in the middle of a busy street," Elm retorted with a noticeable frown, only for Gron to raise an eyebrow towards her.
"No, but they'll gladly blow up a bunch of Insurrectionists surrounded by civilians with missiles," Gron replied. "They've done it before, I've read the reports."
The room fell into silence once again, but before anyone could speak up Sienna said, "We can debate the merits of the UNSC-Insurrectionist conflict later. Right now, we need to focus on what we do next."
"Sienna's right," Qrow replied, leaning back into his chair while swiveling his head around to look at everyone else. "All of us were caught up in the middle of those attacks. What do we do now?"
"Absolutely nothing," a voice cut in. Turning towards the front door of the room, they saw Commander Keyes walk in, flanked by Sergeant Johnson and Lieutenant Dare. The Ace-Ops immediately snapped to attention and saluted, while the rest simply nodded their heads in respect while remaining seated.
"Huntsmen, Huntresses," Keyes greeted, folding his arms behind his back. "Just wanted to check in and see how you all were handling things."
"Pretty good, all things considered," Qrow answered with a crisp nod. He then looked around the room again, glancing at everyone's faces, and added, "Some of us are a little shaken up, but overall we're fine."
"That's good to hear," Keyes replied, nodding back while remaining as serious as ever. "On behalf of the UNSC, I wish to extend our sincerest apologies for getting you caught up in this mess. It was a serious lapse in security that allowed the Insurrectionists to carry out this attack, with you unfortunately caught in the crossfire."
"We understand, Commander," Robyn replied, a soft smile on her face. "We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Be that as it may, you were still placed in unnecessary danger," Keyes said. "Rest assured, it will not happen again."
Sienna didn't reply or respond other than crossing her arms and leaning back into the sofa. She didn't dislike the man, the incident with Gron notwithstanding, nor did she blame him for what happened. But, at the same time, she knew he was making promises he wouldn't be able to keep. There was no telling what might happen to them over the duration of this mission.
"Commander," Clover spoke up, "am I correct to assume that the Midsummer Night will be participating in the operation against the Insurrectionists?"
"You would be," Keyes confirmed, and Clover nodded.
"In that case, I request permission for myself and the Ace Operatives to participate," Clover offered, with the rest of the Ace-Ops nodding in agreement. Most of the Huntsmen and Huntresses nodded as well, except for Gron of course and surprisingly Qrow Branwen, but to their surprise Keyes shook his head.
"Request denied," Keyes shot down, sending the Huntsmen and Huntresses aback slightly.
"But sir, with our Aura and Semblances we would be a valuable asset on the field," Clover argued.
"Khembalung more than proved that," Keyes replied, only to shake his head again, "but my answer remains the same. Neither you, nor the rest of the delegation, will be participating in this operation."
"Commander, with all due respect," Robyn spoke up, "we're Huntsmen and Huntresses. While we trained primarily to fight the Grimm, we're more than capable of fighting criminals too."
"And if you were here as Huntsmen and Huntresses, we would gladly take you up on that offer," Dare replied, a stern look on her face. "But you're not. You're not here as fighters. You're here under the official capacity as diplomats, nothing more. It doesn't matter if you can take a rifle shot to the face or outright parry it, we will not send you into unnecessary combat where you could get injured or killed."
Sepia frowned, then asked, "So, what, you expect us to just sit back and do nothing?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Johnson confirmed with a soft frown. "This ain't the Covenant we're dealing with. If we were, then we might have taken you up on your offer depending on the circumstances. But right now we're dealing with Insurrectionists. That's purely a UNSC concern, not yours. There's no need to get you involved. This is our problem, so we'll take care of it."
Clover and many of the others looked as though they wanted to argue further, but a stern frown from Keyes was all it took to convince them that their decision was final. Sienna supposed they had a point, and even agreed with it. A simple glance at Gron and Qrow, who were both nodding, told her they felt the same. Beyond the official excuse of wanting to keep them out of danger, she guessed that the UNSC higher ups really didn't want to sanction a bunch of secret alien warriors involving themselves in an internal conflict against their own citizens. There were multiple ways it could turn into an even more complicated mess if they stuck their noses in right now.
At the end of the day, the Insurrection was a purely UNSC concern. The Covenant affected everybody, whereas the Insurrectionists solely targeted the UNSC. That put the terrorists outside of their jurisdiction, at least for now. Sienna had to assume that, if this alliance truly formed, Huntsmen and Huntresses could assist against Insurrectionists if the situation called for it. But that was later. For now, it was out of their hands.
After a moment, a visibly disappointed Clover sighed and replied, "Of course, sir."
Keyes nodded, then said, "Once the situation is stabilized on the ground, we'll permit you to return planetside. Until then, as a security precaution, you are being confined to this station. Please let us know if you require anything."
That decision caused more than a few groans of protest, but once again Keyes' decision was final. With one last nod, he, Johnson, and Dare turned around and left the room, leaving the Huntsmen and Huntresses by themselves. They all stared at each other in silence, unsure of how to respond.
Then Abby huffed and declared, "I don't care what 'justification' they have. I hope these Insurrectionists get what's coming to them."
"So do I, Redwall. So do I," Qrow replied, speaking for all of them as the room fell into silence once again.
Chernobog Orbital Shipyard
May 21st, 2541, 1122 Hours (UNSC Military Calendar)
With a tray in her hand, Sienna Khan waited in line for the day's lunch. In the background, she heard marines and her fellow Huntsmen and Huntresses conversing with each other, all while the television played. Despite the conversations going on around her, her tiger ears were still able to clearly make out what the news reporters were saying.
"UNSC forces conducted another raid today on a supposed safe house used by the Worker's Liberation Party," the reporter revealed as the image beside her displayed the cordoned off building where marines and ODSTs were carrying out computers, stacks of papers, and even escorting a few people in handcuffs to police Warthogs. The cameramen weren't able to get too close, as the armed marines were forcibly pushing them back and refusing to answer any of their questions. It created a tense scene, in Sienna's opinion.
"Six people were arrested on suspicion for harboring Insurrectionists. They have refused all requests for comment," the reporter continued, tellingly leaving behind the implication that the arrested people were doing so but not whether there was any actual evidence, Sienna noted.
"Meanwhile, the small town of Ivangrad was rocked today after a dozen Insurrectionists opened fire on a crowd, killing and wounding over fifty people before taking over a small diner," the reporter revealed, the image shifting to that of the standoff. "During the negotiation efforts, a shot rang out which prompted local UNSC and police forces to open fire into the well-fortified building. All of the Insurrectionists were killed. Tragically, two-dozen patrons held hostage inside were caught in the crossfire, including a six-year old child. Protesters have rallied around the diner, decrying what they claim to be gross negligence and police brutality."
True to her word, dozens of people were shown carrying signs and shouting into marines and policemen's faces, who themselves remained as stoic as possible. What they were exactly saying was unknown to Sienna, but the message was clear regardless.
"Gods, what a mess," she heard Casper mutter from her table. She was seated alongside most of the Vale group, with only Qrow Branwen sitting apart from them on a seat in front of the tv. Paying them no heed, Sienna carried her food over to the White Fang's table, where she sat down next to Yuri and in front of Abby. Both of them were splitting their attention between the food on their trays and the tv screens around them, absorbing all of the information given. A few marines were with them, wearing casual clothes that exposed their muscular arms, some of which sported tattoos. One man in particular had a thick bushy beard on his face, with dark, thick tribal tattoos trailing down his tanned skin. He was noticeably distant from the others, but Sienna didn't pay him any more heed before returning her attention back to her team.
"That's, what, the fifth incident this week?" Yuri noted, his eyes on the television while shoveling some food into his mouth. As all of the marines in the room were aware of their origins, his blue feathered head was proudly displayed alongside Gron's scales and Abby's and Sienna's ears.
"Something like that," Sienna confirmed, taking a sip of her water. "Can't help but notice a pattern. Insurrectionists attack, UNSC retaliates and overreacts, with innocent people caught in the crossfire. I think at this point nearly as many civilians have been killed by the UNSC as the Insurrectionists themselves."
"History of the Insurrection, from what I've read," Gron spoke up, not really paying attention to the news in favor of simply eating his lunch. "Two groups fighting each other, with tons of collateral damage between both. Can't help but wonder who killed more."
Angered, Abby turned to face Gron then said, "They took over a diner with people still in it to use as human shields, Gron. I'd say that's the Insurrectionists' fault."
"The UNSC knew that yet opened fire as soon as a single shot went out," Gron retorted, then pointed his finger at her. "A shot that one of them could've fired, mind you. I think that if the Insurrectionists fired it the UNSC's news would've told us."
"We don't know for certain," Abby replied. "And even if they did, those…terrorists still took over that diner while the UNSC was trying to save them."
"Well, they certainly did a good job at that," Gron declared with a shrug, then went back to eating. Abby glowered at her fellow Faunus, then huffed and turned to face the television again.
Sienna looked at her teammates without saying a word, analyzing both of their positions. On the one hand, Gron was correct that the UNSC opening fire into a diner, with the hostages still inside, did lead to their deaths. That was irrefutable. Had the UNSC exercised more precision (Or accepted the bullet-proof and Semblance-wielding Huntsmen and Huntresses' help in clearing the place, the more hot-blooded part of her whispered), perhaps less hostages would have been killed when the shooting started. But, on the other hand, Abby was also correct that the Insurrectionists were the ones who took over the diner and the people inside as hostages, putting them in the line of fire in the first place. It was very likely that the Insurrectionists were using them as human shields, both to prevent the UNSC from just shooting them and to give them a black eye in the event that they did. It was a cold, cruel calculus, one that appeared to have worked given all the protests. She didn't know which side was more at fault, only that it needed to be stopped and soon.
Around them, she heard marines grumble. One next to her said, "Damn those Innies. I say we kill 'em all and be done with it."
"Yeah," another replied with a nod. "Lost my dad to them before the war. The fact that they're still pulling this shit proves they were always crazy. I mean, the UNSC founded these colonies in the first place. It's not like we took them over from someone else already living there."
There was a lot of murmuring and nodding in agreement with that statement, which Sienna felt was to be expected. After all, these were UNSC marines. They weren't the most Insurrection-sympathetic group of people. Then, to her surprise, she noticed from the corner of her eye the heavily tattooed marine roll his eyes and scoff. She raised an eyebrow at him, and after a moment he noticed her staring at him.
"What? See something you like?" the man asked, and Sienna merely furrowed her brow more.
"Just surprised, is all," she replied. She glanced around the room, and saw that the rest of the marines were talking among themselves about what they would do to the Insurrectionists if they had the chance, each one more unpleasant than the last. She then looked back at the marine and said, "It's just that you don't seem as…enthusiastic about fighting the Insurrectionists as the rest of your compatriots."
The man scoffed, then replied, "I signed up with the UNSC to kill aliens, not my fellow man."
"It appears that not everyone got the same message," Sienna pointed out, then narrowed her eyes further.
"They weren't always crazy," he said, just audible over the murmuring around them. "In fact, when it first started they were quite sane."
"But you wouldn't be so reluctant if that was all there was to it, would you?" she pressed.
"I'm not reluctant," he protested, then sighed. "These Insurrectionists need to be put down. I just…have a different perspective than everyone else here."
"Mind sharing, then?" Sienna calmly requested.
The marine looked at her for a moment, then glanced around the room. No one else had paid attention to their conversation, including the other marines on the table who were preoccupied with watching the tv. After a moment, he looked back at Sienna, and he tilted his head towards an adjacent hallway. He got up and disposed of his tray before exiting the mess hall. As the door closed behind him, Sienna looked at the rest of her team. The message he was giving them was obvious, and while Gron was shaking his head to tell her no, Sienna's own sense of curiosity compelled her to respond. She got up as well, disposing of her food and tray. Behind her, the rest of the White Fang, including a reluctant Gron, joined her as they walked out of the mess hall, where they were met by the marine who was leaning against a wall. There was no one else around, leaving just them.
"I take it what you want to talk about isn't particularly popular with the other marines?" Yuri asked, and the marine nodded.
"More or less," he answered with a huff, then said, "The name's Adriaan. Private, in case you're wondering."
"Well then, Private Adriaan, what is it that you wanted to talk about?" Sienna pointedly asked.
Adriaan looked around one last time to make sure they were alone, then began to speak in a low voice, "The Insurrectionists…they didn't start out as terrorists."
"Lieutenant Dare told us that right before the first attack," Abby replied, crossing her arms. "That they started off as peaceful protests. She said that while the UNSC and UEG certainly made mistakes, though, it was the Insurrection who escalated."
"I suppose, from ONI's point of view, it was. But not to me. I was there at the beginning," Adriaan revealed, causing Sienna to perk up her eyebrow. "I saw the negligence, corruption, and incompetence of the CMA first-hand. Colonies, including my homeworld of Biko, were left to fend for themselves half the time. While the Inner Colonies got rich off of our resources and labor, the Outer Colonies were left with the scraps. They would've been content with bleeding us dry of any scrap of valuable resources they could get their hands on. But whenever we tried to do things on our own, like developing native industry or our own trade routes, the CMA then the UNSC stopped us for 'going outside our jurisdiction.' It was unjust, keeping those who didn't have anything down so that the people who did could keep accumulating more and more wealth, so we did what citizens were supposed to do and protested. At first, I thought we were making progress, but for every step we took it seemed like we took another two steps back.
"Eventually," he continued after a short pause to sigh and shake his head, "radicals in the Insurrection attacked, and the UNSC took that as an opportunity to brand everybody protesting for greater colonial freedoms as 'Insurrectionists.' They treated me and everyone I knew as terrorists when we were nothing but peaceful protesters. Eventually, I figured if they were going to call me one I might as well act the part."
"You were an Insurrectionist?!" Abby gasped and recoiled. Adriaan looked at her then nodded affirmatively while leaning further back against the wall.
"I was. Not anymore, though," Adriaan clarified. "I fought for Biko's independence. The UNSC didn't care about us aside from the raw materials we shipped out, so what right did they have to say how we should govern ourselves? That's what I told myself, and since the UNSC didn't have any intention of relinquishing their hold on power we struck back. We attacked UNSC military targets, raided supplies and more, just to send a message. But we always made sure to avoid civilians whenever possible. None of my operations ever directly involved them. Can't say the same for UNSC reprisals, though."
Adriaan shook his head, then added, "Not all of my fellow Innies, as my comrades in there so warmly called them, felt the same, obviously. Some would target civilians to send a message. Myself and others were horrified, of course. Such acts, while indeed powerful, only served to harden opposition to our quite-legitimate goals. It was one thing to hear about a squad of soldiers getting killed in combat. They could at least defend themselves, and were often serving as the oppressor to many people. It was another to hear about a crowd of civilians, whose only crime was living under the UNSC's regime, getting massacred. Yet, to those radical Insurrectionists, they were one and the same."
Sienna was silent at first, along with the rest of the White Fang as they simply stared at Adriaan. Shocked at his admission, none of them had anything to say. Yet, while Gron simply looked passive and uncaring, with Yuri contemplative, Abby looked utterly enraged.
"If a movement begins to willingly target innocent people, just to send a message, then it becomes the point where you need to start wondering whether or not spreading that message was worth it," she proclaimed, then pressed her hand against her chest. "I joined the White Fang to fight for the Faunus against injustices by humans, so I understand fighting oppression. But I would never consider harming those who can't defend themselves, and if the White Fang at large started doing that I would leave without a second thought."
Adriaan looked at Abby for a moment, then nodded and replied, "Then you're a better person than I was. I kept trying to dismiss it as just a bunch of radicals and not a systemic rot of our movement. There were many times when I would turn information about those radical cells over to the UNSC, actually. At first, I hardly had to do it, which eased my concerns, but towards the end it seemed to happen every week. Things were just spiraling out of control, and to be honest I considered jumping ship. The death and destruction…it was growing too much to justify. Then the Covenant attacked and reduced Biko to a ball of glass."
Adriaan stared hard at the members of the White Fang, then began to whisper. With how quiet the hallway was, he might as well have been yelling.
"The Covenant put things in perspective," he declared, then met Sienna's eyes. "You can't really fight for the independence of a world when we're all dead. So I did something that I really didn't want to do; I enlisted. As much as I still don't like the UNSC, I knew they were our best chance at defeating the Covenant. They still are."
The hallway fell silent as the White Fang stared at Adriaan. He stared plainly at them all, not caring in the slightest about some of the glares being sent his way. Yuri coughed into his fist then pointed down towards the ground and asked, "What about the Insurrectionists down there in Vyraj?"
"Fundamentally, I agree with their cause," Adriaan admitted without a shred of guilt. "Vyraj and any other colony that wants it should be able to govern themselves the way they see fit. Earth is too far away and communication too slow to govern everything at once. But as I said, you can't do that when you're dead, and attacking civilians or putting them in harm's way only delegitimizes whatever point you once had."
Adriaan paused for a moment, then added, "At this point, the Worker's Liberation Party aren't freedom fighters. They're bloodthirsty terrorists and murderers who would rather see the world burn than have the UNSC be in control, and they need to be put down. Once this war is over, and we come out the other side, then we can talk about governance. Assuming, of course, we get there."
Finished, Adriaan stared at the White Fang for a few moments, waiting for them to respond. None of them did, and so without saying another word he turned around and walked off further into the station away from the mess hall. The members of the White Fang watched him go. Yuri was looking at him with contemplative eyes, rubbing his fingers through his chin. Gron, meanwhile, was looking at the man earnestly, yet with a quick shrug of his shoulders dismissed much of it. Abby, meanwhile, still had a frown on her face, but at the very least she wasn't glaring at Adriaan's back with undisguised disgust now. Sienna herself remained silent, pondering the man's words and experiences. Their cause was, at its core, just, but how could they themselves be called that if they targeted civilians purposefully? If even one of their own decried those who were left, what did that say about what the Insurrection had become?
After a moment, Sienna shook her head. It was obvious that this was a far more complex issue than what could be resolved in one night. At the same time, though, it gave her something to think about for when she returned to Remnant. She didn't know what the future had in store for them, with the stakes higher than ever with what she'd seen of the UNSC, without even mentioning the specter of the Covenant hanging over everything. But, while the prospect of the issues they faced back home festering and escalating to the same level as the Insurrection seemed unthinkable, she vowed that she would never let such a thing come to pass on her watch, even as she continued to fight for the Faunus. Not after seeing the results first hand.
City of Dalmatol
2052 Hours (UNSC Military Calendar)
Sergeant Avery Johnson gripped his MA5K carbine tightly as he and a line of marines piled up against the outside of a house. Lieutenant Dare, decked out in full ODST garb with a Recon helmet, had an M7S submachine gun clutched in her grip as she and another marine took point. Around them, street lights for the entire block were shut off as the power was cut, cloaking everything in darkness as every light went dead. That wasn't a problem for Johnson nor any of the marines as they quickly turned on their heads-up display's night vision. In the case of Dare and the other ODSTs, they activated the VISRs built into their helmets.
The ONI agent briskly moved her hand, signaling for the marines and ODSTs to form up beside doors and windows. Everyone quickly complied, including Johnson who moved up behind Dare. A battering ram was pulled out, and Dare silently began to count down from five. Once the countdown was finished, she clenched her fist, prompting the marine to slam the battering ram into the door.
"Marines! On the ground now!" men and women shouted as they stormed into the building, their weapons raised. The occupants inside screamed in fright, some trying to make a run for it, but they were quickly subdued and wrestled to the ground.
"Room clear!" someone shouted after kicking down a door.
"Clear!" another called out after sweeping the next one.
One by one, each and every room in the two-story house was swept clean, confirming that the only people inside were the family of five and the marines themselves. Illuminated by his HUD, Johnson was only now able to get a good look at them. They were an average Vyrajian family, a mother and father with three young children. The children, especially the youngest daughter who couldn't have been older than five, were terrified, being held tightly by their mother. The father, with a thick black beard, however, glared hatefully at them while shielding his family with his body.
"What is the meaning of this?! How dare you break into our home!" the man shouted, eying the guns pointed in his general direction nervously while snarling at everyone. Dare took the moment to walk up to him, holstering her submachine gun but keeping her hand hovering over her suppressed pistol. At the same time, marines and ODSTs walked behind her, carrying out papers and computer equipment.
"Hey, those are ours! You have no right to take them!" the man declared, but Dare didn't show any care as she began to speak.
"Pyotr Kazan," Dare calmly began in Russian, standing over the family while glaring down at them through her helmet. "We know you have been both communicating with and harboring Insurrectionists. You are hereby placed under arrest for treason."
"I have done no such thing!" Pyotr replied, but Dare merely gave him a flat stare.
"We have been tapping your communications for weeks," she revealed, and Pyotr's eyes widened as she continued, "and interrogations of arrested individuals led us to here. Mr. Kazan, do not try to deny it. All you will do is make things worse for yourself. If you comply with our investigation, however, and help us to apprehend the people responsible for these attacks, I assure you we will be lenient."
Pyotr was quiet at first, then he snarled and spat, "Don't lie to me you fascist pig! I don't care what supposed evidence you have on me or my family! I'm not telling you anything until I get a lawyer! I know my rights!"
"Rights you surrendered as soon as you joined the Insurrection," Dare shot back, then motioned with her hand. Shifting over to English, she said, "Take them away. I want this house completely scrubbed, top to bottom."
"Yes, Lieutenant," a marine replied, then forced Pyotr and his family up off the ground. Pushing them along, they were forced out of their home and into the back of an armored police car. While the wife and children looked terrified out of their minds, the father continued to be defiant and tried to force his way out of the marine's grip.
"Are you sure you have the right guy, Lieutenant?" Johnson asked, keeping a close watch on the family.
"One-hundred percent," Dare confirmed. "Phone calls, emails, Waypoint communications. We even have video where he briefly met up with an Insurrectionist to hand off an unknown package. He's guilty."
"And defiant," Johnson noted as Pyotr briefly managed to slip an arm free. Almost immediately, though, he was struck on the side of the head by the butt of a marine's rifle, sending him to the ground. One of the children screamed for their father, who was hoisted up then thrown into the police car. While the rest of the family was pushed into a separate vehicle, the kids wailed and cried.
"What about his family?" Johnson asked, a pang of sadness sweeping through him.
"As far as we can tell, innocent. Mr. Kazan appears to have kept his work life and family life separate," Dare said, folding her arms behind her back. "Until we know for certain, however, they are being detained for questioning."
"And leverage, I'm guessing," Johnson added. Dare didn't reply, but he knew the answer regardless.
It was a common ONI tactic. Use an interrogation subject's family to compel them into giving up valuable information. So far, it had proven remarkably effective at convincing defiant Insurrectionists, much like Pyotr Kazan himself, into giving the UNSC what they needed. Certainly better than outright torture, which even an organization as heartless as ONI lambasted as needlessly cruel and ineffective. Didn't stop Johnson from disliking the tactic, though.
"You disapprove," Dare noted, breaking the silence. Seeing no reason to argue, Johnson nodded affirmatively.
"I agree that this guy was guilty. All the evidence points to that," Johnson agreed. "But I don't think it was best to arrest the guy in front of his kids, much less in his own home. I've been in a few no-knock raids before. This one was clean. Others can get very bloody very fast. Would've been better, less traumatizing to nab him in public."
"Doing that would've given him the opportunity to escape, and alerted his friends that we're onto them," Dare pointed out. "As dramatic as this may be, this was the best option with the lowest chance of risk."
"That risk was still pretty damn high, though," Johnson replied, shaking his head and watching the kids being ushered into their car. In particular, he focused on the oldest, who was giving everyone an icy-cold glare. He recognized that stare, and released a sigh while hoping their raid didn't just create another Insurrectionist. They had far more important matters to deal with.
"Lieutenant, we may have found something," an ODST announced, cutting into Johnson's thoughts.
"What do you have?" Dare asked, turning around to face the shock trooper as he handed her a couple files.
"Found these tucked away in a wall safe. Might lead us to the Insurrectionists' main base," the ODST revealed while Dare quickly read through the files.
"Good work," she declared as she finished reading then handed the files back to the ODST. "File them away for processing. Anything else we can find goes in as well. We're going to find these bastards."
"Yes, ma'am," the soldier said, then hurried off to comply with her orders.
Johnson and Dare watched him go, then as the police cars drove off they, too, went back inside the building to assist with the search and seizure. With any luck, this house might contain more clues that would allow them to take out the local Insurrectionists before they could hurt more people. Johnson couldn't help but hope, though, that they didn't make more enemies in the process of eliminating the ones they had.
[~][~]
Hello, everyone! Here is the latest chapter of Dust and Echoes! Special thanks to NaanContributor and Jesse K for all their help in bringing this to life.
The aftermath of the Insurrectionists' attack on Vyraj is in full swing, and the UNSC is going all in on bringing them to justice. But things aren't as black and white as they first appear to be, as atrocities and injustices on both sides are exposed. While the Insurrection still needs to be put down, the UNSC's part in this horrible escalation cannot be denied, nor will it.
To answer the common questions, and ones I feel are relevant, the reason why the White Fang jumped to assist is that they aren't where they were in canon just yet. Before the UNSC arrived, they were on the road to becoming the Faunus supremacist terrorists they were in canon, then the UNSC arrived and threw the canon story of RWBY completely out the door. As such, while Sienna Khan is definitely willing to fight physically for the Faunus, she isn't a supremacist like Adam is and so she helped out. She's also much more willing to see reason and, while she doesn't see the connection between what the Insurrection is and what the White Fang became in canon, inherently that's what she's trying to avoid. Hence why I had Sienna and the White Fang be the central Remnant POV this chapter, outside of Qrow's introduction. We felt that it would be more impactful that way.
Also, just to clarify about the whole ballistics discussion, it's not as clear cut. When it comes to non-Dust ammunition, and the inherent technology behind the bullet, yes the UNSC's arsenal is superior. But the effects and added strength of Dust more than closes the gap between Remnant's bullets. As of now, Remnant has the slight edge. But, as technology is developed, you're going to start getting UNSC ballistics with Remnant Dust. That is going to be scary to the Covenant, making them nearly on par with plasma weapons as shown in the prologue. It isn't a case of "UNSC RULES, REMNANT SUCKS!" Far from it. It's just that they're mutually better in some areas and worse in others. Remember, this isn't a UNSC vs Remnant story, it's UNSC and Remnant teaming up to kick alien and Grimm ass.
I'm really glad you guys liked the last chapter so much. While the Insurrection won't be nearly as big of a threat as the Covenant themselves, they still have a role to play in the story, and we wanted to explore the implications that they had. Especially with how they related to some of the core issues that led to plenty of RWBY's conflicts.
And yes, last chapter was more of a world-building chapter than a story one. Same with this chapter. In a long-running story like this, you need world-building chapters in order to flesh things out more, build up the characters and setting, and so on. Honestly, the chapters with hardly any combat are some of my favorite to write, even if some of them are harder to write than others. The true core of this story isn't the combat, it's the characters doing the combat and the reasons why. If I can't get you guys to care about that, then I've failed as a writer. Luckily, so far I think I've done a pretty good job in that regard.
Finally, regarding how this story may affect the canon fates of certain RWBY characters, remember that there's a reason why I started the story ten years prior. Some things will remain the same, namely the stuff that the changes wouldn't really affect. Others are going to be radically different due to the change in situation and environment. Which one is which will obviously be revealed as time goes on.
Let us know what you all think, and I hope you enjoy! If any of you have a TV Tropes account, any assistance you can offer in updating the TV Tropes page would be greatly appreciated. See you all next time!
