Dust and Echoes (RWBY/Halo)
Chapter 9: Brothers in Arms
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"So, what's this thing called?" Qrow asked as he and Avery Johnson walked around the encampment underneath Amity Colosseum. They were stopped in front of one of the UNSC's ground vehicles, an armored car with a chain gun turret on the back.
"This here," Johnson replied with a smile on his face as he slapped his hand on its hull, "is the M12 LRV, more commonly known as the Warthog. It is the backbone of the entire UNSC's ground forces. It has four-inch ballistic polycarbonate and carbon nanotube plating over a titanium chassis, capable of reaching speeds up to 125 kilometers per hour and a maximum range of 790 kilometers on a single twelve-liter tank. This one is armed with an M41 Light Anti-Air Gun, capable of spitting out fifty-caliber rounds at an extremely high rate of fire. Any Grimm that pops out of those woods or in the air will be cut down before they know what hit them."
Qrow nodded, eyeing the vehicle up and down, then asked, "Why do you call it the Warthog?"
"Because M12 LRV is hard to say in conversation," Johnson sarcastically replied, prompting Qrow to snort. The sergeant smiled and laughed at the reaction while Qrow quickly composed himself, then the veteran Huntsman raised his eyebrow.
"While that may be true," he admitted, "it doesn't look like a pig to me. It looks more like a big cat, like a puma."
"Yep, we hear that a lot," Johnson said with a shrug, then he pointed to the tow hooks on the front. "But apparently, when we adopted this thing over two-hundred years ago, the boys in the CMA thought the hooks looked like tusks and, given how robust and sturdy the Warthog is, gave it a nickname that stuck."
"Your people really like to name your vehicles after animals, don't you?" Qrow asked, idly noting the fact that the Warthog was apparently that old, and Johnson nodded as he pulled out a cigar and placed it into his mouth without lighting it.
"That we do, Branwen. That we do," Johnson confirmed, leaning back against the car's hull while keeping a close lookout on the woods. After a moment, Qrow nodded back, then he joined the sergeant in leaning against the Warthog.
"Certainly fits the theme," Qrow pointed out as a flight of Hornets flew overhead, joined by Atlesian Bullheads. "Dropships are Pelicans, those aircraft are Hornets. Any other animals I should be concerned about?"
"If we have to pull out the Scorpion, we have bigger problems," Johnson replied, lighting his cigar and breathing in its noxious fumes. He breathed out with a satisfied look on his face, but when he saw Qrow look at the cigar questioningly, Johnson took it out and asked, "Let me guess: you guys have tobacco here, too?"
"Yes, we do," Qrow answered. "Ours causes cancer. Does yours not?"
"What's 'cancer?'" Johnson asked, holding the cigar in his fingers. Qrow stared at the man for a few moments, thinking over his response. From the bewildered look on Johnson's face, it was clear he had absolutely no idea what Qrow as talking about, which told him one of two things. Either these UNSC marines were extremely lacking in their basic medical knowledge, something that he personally doubted, or miraculously the UNSC had managed to cure cancer so long ago it was now considered to not be worth knowing about. Qrow prayed to the two Brothers that it was the latter.
"Forget I said anything," Qrow requested. After a moment, Johnson shrugged then he put the cigar back into his mouth. Qrow, meanwhile, went back to observing the forest. Briefly, his eyes went up to the colosseum overhead where the actual meeting was underway.
He wondered what, exactly, they were talking about, and more importantly, what they weren't talking about. Johnson had proven to be quite the chatty person, more than eager to engage in idle chatter with Qrow, but there were certain things the marine refused to talk about in any detail. When he asked for details on Earth, Johnson only gave vague details about it being the birthplace of humanity and left it at that. Nothing about population, demographics, geography, anything. Questions about the UNSC's colonies met the same result, telling Qrow that the UNSC did not want Remnant to know too much about them at the moment. Qrow wasn't too upset about those secrets, though. After all, this was as much a first contact for Remnant as it was for the UNSC. They were allowed to keep some secrets.
As always, though, Qrow was much more interested in the secrets that directly affected Remnant and its safety. With that in mind, he couldn't care less about where this Earth was in comparison to any spaceborne threats the UNSC might bring with them. Such as this Covenant, which Johnson didn't say anything about. Not that Qrow was stupid enough to bring it up directly. Instead, he was keeping his eyes and ears open, and what he saw offered him plenty of information. On the soldiers themselves, their armors were coated with that heat resistant film, and on a few he saw what looked to be burns on their exposed skin. Burns that didn't match what one would get if they simply touched a hot surface or fell into fire. Rather, the burns looked more like those he saw from people who were shot by a Fire Dust round, telling him that this Covenant likely used weapons involving high heat, possibly plasma. If that was true, it would explain why they placed so much emphasis on heat dispersal. They needed it to protect themselves.
But the UNSC themselves only used ballistics, from what he could see. If their enemies used high heat in their weapons, but the UNSC didn't, that told him one of two things. Either one, his preferred scenario, the UNSC felt the use of such weapons was barbaric and inhumane, thus banning their use. The other, more terrifying scenario was that this Covenant, whom Qrow knew deep down were the users of these supposed plasma weapons, were more technologically advanced than the UNSC. It was a scenario Qrow did not like to think about, but he did so all the same simply due to the fear of what that could mean for Remnant. The UNSC, in many ways, was more advanced than them, but if the Covenant was more advanced than the UNSC, what did that mean for Remnant? For the sake of every human and faunus who called this planet home, he had to know more, and it pained him more than anything else that he had to bite his tongue for now.
Qrow trusted Ozpin's judgement. If Ozpin felt now wasn't the time to ask that question, he'd follow his lead. But as soon as he got the chance, Qrow as going to get to the bottom of it. Hopefully, that came sooner rather than later.
Johnson knew exactly what Qrow Branwen was doing, which was why he was staying so close to the man. Qrow may have thought he was acting with subtlety, but Johnson wasn't fooled. The man was fishing for information, and while that may have been concerning to some, it wasn't to Johnson. He knew exactly why Qrow was doing that. Qrow was concerned with the safety of his people, and a bunch of soldiers popping up out of nowhere would be cause for concern. Johnson didn't blame Qrow for trying to pry, with part of him wanting to be honest about the threat the Covenant posed. Although these humans weren't part of the UNSC, he knew the Covenant wouldn't care. If they found this place, they'd burn it to the ground just like all of their other colonies. Harvest, Eridanus II, Madrigal. Remnant would join them and hundreds more. The Covenant were the greatest threat humanity had ever seen, and Remnant had a right to know what danger they posed to them.
But, at the same time, Johnson knew that telling Remnant about the Covenant at this time would be a disaster. How else could it end if a foreign power, whom by all appearances were alien, told them 'there's an alien empire who's stronger than us out there who wants to kill you simply because you're human'? It would not go over well, assuming the people of Remnant even believed them. If the UNSC wanted things to go well, perhaps even gain Remnant as an ally, they had to play their cards right. Hence the secrecy.
At the same time, Johnson kept his eye on their surroundings, just as he had been doing for the past several hours. So far, nothing had happened yet, but he refused to take that as a sign that things were going according to plan. Nothing ever did. Eventually, something was bound to go wrong, and it was his job to ensure everything went smoothly.
"Fireteam Charlie, what's your status?" Johnson asked, bringing his hand to his ear and tapping into TEAMCOM.
"Finishing up our perimeter sweep now, Sarge," Private Wallace A. Jenkins revealed. "Just checking up on the last watchtower, then we'll head back."
"Sounds good, Private. Keep me posted," Johnson replied, then hopped off TEAMCOM and stood up. He stretched his limbs and looked to the side at Qrow, who was doing the same. Johnson couldn't help but take note of the sword hilt attached to Qrow's hip, and he raised his eyebrow.
"Gotta ask," he said. "You guys have robots, flying battleships, floating colosseums, and a lot of guns. Why do you feel the need to carry around a sword?"
"Harbinger's not just a sword," Qrow insisted, tapping his hand against the hilt.
"Oh, so it has a name. That's neat."
"All weapons used by Huntsmen and Huntresses do," Qrow clarified. "Each one fights with a unique weapon designed by them for their own unique fighting style. No two Huntsmen are ever truly alike."
"Wouldn't it make a lot more sense to just train a bunch of people together and give them standardized equipment? Seems easier to me," Johnson asked, tapping into his military background. The idea of having a bunch of warriors running around with non-standardized equipment was foreign to him. Sure, he understood the value of special forces using different gear, but in a prolonged engagement, having everyone use different weapons with different ammunition would make battlefield coordination a nightmare.
But then, Johnson reminded himself that he was dealing with people who had a history and culture which was completely separate from Earth's. These people were born on Remnant, and as such undoubtedly developed their own thoughts on things. Perhaps it made sense to them. It sure didn't for him, but he wasn't here to make judgements. Still, Qrow decided to answer, although only after rolling his eyes.
"Huntsmen aren't soldiers. We're not beholden to one kingdom and one kingdom only. Instead, anyone can hire our services to deal with the Grimm," Qrow revealed. "We're trained to be self-sufficient, so supply chains aren't really a factor for us."
That little detail threw Johnson off, and with his eyebrows raised, he asked, "Wait, people hire you? Like mercenaries?"
"Kinda, yeah," Qrow admitted with a nonchalant shrug. "I don't consider myself to be one, but there are some who are more unscrupulous than others."
"Why?" Johnson asked, and Qrow looked at him in the eyes.
"Because by making the Huntsmen independent, it prevented any one kingdom from threatening the others," he revealed. "I know what you're thinking: why not use armies and soldiers to protect people from the Grimm? Well, we used to do that, but the thing about armies is that they can be used for more than just hunting Grimm. They can be used against people and other kingdoms, too, which is how wars start. Including the one that nearly wiped us out. So, in the wake of that, we decided to get rid of our armies, to replace them with local defense forces and leave the hunting of Grimm to trained specialists who could be used by any kingdom. Much harder to go to war when you don't have a standing army that can be deployed on the whims of politicians. It's worked out for us so far. We haven't had a war in almost 70 years."
"Then how come Atlas has one?" Johnson asked, eyeing the airship hanging overhead. Qrow looked up as well, and his expression hardened. Johnson felt that Qrow did not particularly like the idea of armies or standing militaries. He was about to change the subject when Qrow sighed and shook his head.
"Their people wanted one, so their leaders gave them one. Not everyone's happy about it, and it's only gotten bigger ever since General Ironwood was put in charge," Qrow replied.
Johnson now felt conflicted. From what he could see, the people of Remnant felt that armies and militaries were more trouble then they were worth, assuming that Qrow's sentiments were shared by the average person. At the very least, he could attest to the fact that only Atlas really had what he could call a true military. In a world where the biggest threats were animalistic monsters, perhaps only having specialists to hunt them down like a scalpel made sense. But, the Covenant weren't like the Grimm, and he feared that Remnant may be forced to change simply for the sake of survival. Nothing about that seemed right to him, and he wondered just how much their arrival would affect things for them.
Before he could really ruminate on those thoughts further, however, Johnson suddenly heard TEAMCOM blare to life.
"Sarge, we got a problem!" Jenkins revealed, his voice sounding panicked.
"What is it, Jenkins?" Johnson asked, causing Qrow to suddenly focus his attention on the sergeant.
"The watchtower's been tampered with! It's offline!"
"What do you mean it's offline?!" Johnson shouted, causing everyone around him to stop what they were doing and focus on him. At that moment, Johnson transferred the call over to the BATTLENET, allowing everyone to hear what was being reported.
"Something smashed the tower up!" Jenkins revealed. "Don't know how long ago, but I'm seeing tracks all over the place! They're heading right to you!"
"Dammit!" Johnson cursed. "Get back here as soon as you can!"
"Already on our way!" Jenkins revealed, then he signed off, allowing Johnson to turn around and face the suddenly bustling camp. A moment later, the alarm blared, alerting everyone of the danger coming their way. This seemed to aggravate whatever was approaching, and he heard the trees begin to sway as something, a lot of somethings, moved through them.
Johnson narrowed his eyes, and with one wave of his arm, the marines under his command got into position. Turrets angled towards the tree line, rifles poked out from behind cover, and Hornets stopped their patrols to settle overhead. Remnant's forces were doing the same, and even Qrow and his fellow Huntsmen and Huntresses pulled out their myriad array of weapons. To Johnson's surprise, many of them unfolded from a compact carrying form to one meant for battle, and Johnson could have sworn that Harbinger had a trigger on its hilt. He didn't have time to focus on that, however, and as he took his MA5B assault rifle off of the magnetic holster on his back, he placed his cigar back into his mouth and began to speak.
"Men, keep your eyes downrange, fingers on your triggers, and we all go home in one piece!" he began, marching up to the frontline. "This is where we show those angry, shadowy sons of bitches that they couldn't have picked a worse enemy than the human race! We will meet the enemy head on and blow them straight back to Hell where they belong! They may think they can scare us, but all they'll find is a belly full of lead, and the skulls of their friends ripped from their spines as we toss them away laughing! AM I RIGHT, MARINES?!"
"SIR, YES SIR!" the marines all shouted at once, and even a few of the Atlesian soldiers and Remnant militiamen joined in.
"Mmhm-hmm, damn right I am," Johnson said, then he crouched down and aimed his rifle towards the trees. He could now hear the roars and snarls of the Grimm as they rushed inexorably closer, and in the distance, past the trees, he saw a sea of black flooding towards them. As soon as he saw the reds of their eyes, he shouted, "LET 'EM HAVE IT!"
Just as the words left his mouth, a hail of gunfire shot forward, cutting down everything in its path.
The conference room was awash in activity. Pietro Polendina, Arthur Watts, Jacques Schnee, and the other civilian delegates were staring out the window overlooking the battle below. They watched as the soldiers and Huntsmen fought the Grimm, shooting at any they could see. With the amount of gunfire spewing out of their weapons, several trees had their trunks reduced to splinters. Black smoke was billowing upward through the trees, serving as an effective visual as to how many Grimm had been killed thus far. Yet the Grimm still came, and Jacques couldn't help but feel a creeping nervousness that showed through his wide eyes and clenched fist held near his mouth.
Pietro and Arthur, on the other hand, were watching the display with open curiosity, focusing not on the Grimm but the weapons the UNSC had brought to bear. Thus far, they were proving to be quite effective, and the soldiers themselves, from what they could see, were displaying a remarkable level of bravery in the face of a seemingly endless horde.
"Hannibal, give me status," Cole ordered as holographic projectors built inside the conference room activated, displaying a topographic map of the surrounding area on top of the table. Green dots representing UNSC and Remnant personnel were promptly added, followed by a sea of black dots representing the Grimm.
"Grimm forces have breached our defenses at this point," Hannibal revealed, highlighting the destroyed sensor tower. How, exactly, that occurred hadn't been revealed as of yet, but Cole intended to find that out as soon as possible. Right now, however, they had bigger problems.
Like water flowing through a bottleneck or a breached dam, the Grimm were rushing through the point and spreading out, most rushing towards the humans while others attacked the other defensive fortifications along the perimeter. More and more were being destroyed, widening the gap and allowing more Grimm to advance unimpeded.
"Hmm, they are displaying a surprising amount of coordination," Halsey noted as yet another fortification was destroyed. "Tell me, do Grimm normally focus on creating a small gap to focus their attention on?"
"Not usually, no," Ozpin admitted with a frown, clutching the top of his cane tightly. "Unless they have an alpha leading them."
"Alpha?" Cole asked, raising an eyebrow.
"An older, larger, more experienced, and more powerful Grimm," Ozpin explained. "As Grimm grow older, they grow more dangerous. Not just because they become stronger physically, but because they begin to learn. They realize that it is better to wait for the opportune moment rather than attack right away. It is more than likely that one or more of these Alphas are leading this attack."
"Am I correct in assuming that eliminating these 'Alphas' would reduce the Grimm's effectiveness?" Cole asked. When Ozpin nodded, Cole nodded back and added, "Then we have some high value targets. Hannibal, relay to all teams this information. I want those Alpha Grimm eliminated as soon as possible."
"Right away, sir," Hannibal replied as he sent the appropriate information out.
Next to him, General Ironwood and the rest of the headmasters directed their subordinates around the stadium. Cole and the others heard a deep thump as the Atlesian airships fired their weapons into the Grimm horde, making sure to keep away from firing too closely near their position.
Cole then nodded and turned back towards the table. As he watched the Grimm horde advance, currently stalled at the front line by the wall of guns they had amassed, he wondered what else he should bring to bear. Part of him wanted to fire a low-powered MAC round into the heart of the swarm, wiping out a large swath of them in one fell swoop, but at the same time he knew that had a high risk of collateral damage. Not to mention the diplomatic SNAFU that would be the use of WMDs on a civilization's homeworld during First Contact. No, MAC rounds and Archer missiles were sadly off the table at this moment. Luckily, however, they did have other forces available, and as he saw the Grimm horde's size and spread be fully mapped out, he nodded in approval.
"Hannibal, have all ODSTs launch and land on the Grimm's perimeter. Launch Albatrosses to reinforce them with armor as well," he ordered, marking appropriate zones on the table. Hannibal nodded, and after a few moments turned back to face Admiral Cole.
"ODSTs and armor support are away, sir," he revealed. Cole nodded, but then he noticed the headmasters and General Ironwood give him a questioning look. Realizing what their confusion was about, he moved to explain.
"ODSTs stand for Orbital Drop Shock Troopers," he explained, the two ODSTs serving as his and Halsey's guards standing up slightly straighter at the mention. "They're elite special forces operators of the UNSC, inserting from orbit behind enemy lines to attack high value targets."
"We're the best of the best," one of the ODSTs added, but when Halsey harrumphed dismissively he gave her a cross look from his polarized visor. Cole ignored her, intending to chastise her break in decorum after this was over. At the same time, the Remnant delegation were looking concerned, and after a moment Cole figured why. Most likely from their point of view, dropping isolated soldiers deep behind Grimm lines was just asking for them to be swarmed. He could understand that concern, which was why he felt it prudent enough to send Albatrosses, too.
Then, General Ironwood asked, "Wait, when you say 'inserting from orbit,' do you actually mean…?
In response, both ODSTs chuckled and one said, "Let's just say there's a reason we're called Helljumpers."
After a few beats of her fellows' obstinate refusal to oblige the soldier's prompt, Glynda rolled her eyes at them all and took the overt cue herself and asked, "Why are you called that?"
"Because ODSTs drop straight into Hell feet first."
Johnson had long since abandoned the idea of short controlled bursts as he fired his rifle into the Grimm, not releasing his hold on the trigger until his magazine clicked empty. The rest of his men were doing the same thing, creating overlapping fields of fire that cut down any of the abominations as they got close. Snipers sitting on watchtowers fired precise shots into heads, making them pop like balloons filled with a thick black tar, and Hornets hovering overhead fired their chainguns and rockets into the horde in an effort to thin them out. Combined with the Warthogs' mounted chainguns and gauss cannons, they were putting up a valiant effort if Johnson said so himself.
But it wasn't enough. Despite their losses, the Grimm were continuing to advance, ignoring their fallen brethren as though they didn't even exist. With how the bodies immediately decomposed into black dust upon their deaths, they might as well not have existed in the first place. It was unnerving, to say the least, but Johnson refused to allow himself to become nervous. As far as he was concerned, he and his marines had a job to do, and nothing was going to prevent that.
When he reloaded his assault rifle, however, he heard a large boom and crack and something big began rushing towards them. The Grimm parted, and then he and the rest of the marines saw a massive scorpion-like creature break through the trees as though they were nothing more than toothpicks. One of the Huntsmen yelled out "Deathstalker!" but he couldn't tell who said it as he focused his attention on shooting the oversized insect. The Deathstalker clicked its massive pincers menacingly, and it rushed towards the nearest Warthog which was both firing its chaingun into the creature's carapace while the driver attempted to reverse and drive away. Unfortunately, the Deathstalker was deceptively fast for its size, and it slammed its head into the front of the Warthog then flipped it onto its side. The gunner was hurled from his position while the driver was pinned against the ground, screaming out in terror.
"No!" Johnson shouted, reaching for a frag grenade as the Deathstalker raised its tail high into the air, ignoring the bullets ricocheting off its armor as it prepared to drive the glowing appendage into the vehicle and the driver trapped inside. Before it could, however, Johnson watched as a black blur shot towards the Grimm and sliced the stinger clean off, launching it upwards at the same time.
"What the-?" Johnson muttered as the blur stopped on the opposite side of the Grimm, which was roaring in pain and backing off.
To Johnson's surprise, he saw that the blur was Qrow Branwen, now holding some kind of large, segmented scythe for some reason, to the side and giving the Grimm a glare of utter contempt. The veteran Huntsman eyed the falling armor-piercing stinger, and a moment later he jumped up and slammed the back of the scythe head into the top, driving it down like a stake into the Deathstalker's head. He followed the attack by bracing the scythe against his torso and firing a shotgun blast out of it, using the recoil to send him into a pinwheeling dive down into the stinger heel first to drive it completely through. The Grimm stirred and twitched for a few seconds as though it was futilely attempting to continue or even retreat, but then it stilled and disintegrated into dust.
Qrow, meanwhile, nodded to himself, then jogged over to the overturned Warthog while collapsing the weapon back into the more recognizable sword form of Harbinger with a series of clanks and implanting it into the ground. He then gripped both hands onto the hood and effortlessly turned it over back to its upright position.
"You okay?" he asked the driver, who was gripping the steering wheel like her life depended on it. Shakily, she looked at Qrow and nodded, who nodded back before patting the rim of the windshield and walking away. As he did, he grabbed Harbinger's hilt and jogged back to the frontline, which was beginning to reorganize while Johnson remained focused on Qrow.
The marine's mind was whirling, trying its best to analyze what it saw. Johnson knew that, on average, the people of Remnant were stronger than they were, but there was no reason for him to suspect that translated to moving that fast or being strong enough to lift a three-ton vehicle like it was nothing. It took nearly a whole squad of marines to do that, and the only thing comparable he could think of was a SPARTAN. But what Qrow just did was on another level, and he could barely make heads or tails of it.
"Nevermores!" another shouted as a flock of large raven-like Grimm shot out of the forest, flying above the Hornets.
With mighty caws, they flapped their wings and sent a hail of feathers the size of tree trunks into the aircrafts. They tried to strafe away, but most were hit. The feathers sheared off engines, causing the Hornets to fall into a death spiral and explode upon crashing into the ground. Others suffered a glancing blow, which caused them to smoke and wobble dangerously while also throwing the marines sitting on the landing struts off, where they crashed onto the ground and died upon impact. A pair of unfortunate pilots were struck in the cockpits, painting them bright red before they exploded into a ball of fire. Their burning husks fell to the ground, forcing the marines to scatter lest they be crushed.
Almost immediately, the Warthogs angled their chainguns upward and fired upon the avian monstrosities, and they eventually went down. But enough of a gap was forged in the fire lines to allow the Grimm to break through, closing the distance between them and their human prey in an effort to cut them all down. The front line was forced to scatter as the marines and soldiers were thrust into a close quarters engagement.
Refocusing himself on the task at hand, Johnson fired his rifle into the body of an ursine creature covered in bone armor plates and spikes, its eyes crimson red. It took nearly a quarter of his entire magazine to put it down, but by then it had already gutted an unfortunate marine with one swipe of its massive claws. Turning on his heels, he crouched to fire another full auto burst into the head of a Grimm that was nearly all mouth. As soon as it dropped dead, he dive rolled to the side as a lupine Grimm tried to maul him. Johnson fired the rest of his magazine into its gut, causing the Grimm to fall onto its back twitching in pain. Johnson then pulled out his M6D and fired two shots into its head, finally killing it and allowing him to move on to his next target.
Lining up his smart-linked scope, Johnson fired his magnum into the Grimm horde. By the time he had to reload, he had killed another pair of the werewolf Grimm, but then a large bear barreled towards him. Johnson barely had time to dive away before it slammed into a wrecked Warthog that was behind the sergeant. The cracked windshield shattered into a million pieces, and the car itself was flipped end over end as it was sent flying.
Without missing a beat, Johnson threw a grenade which landed at the bear's feet. It exploded with a deep thump, but while the bear staggered, black blood pouring out of its legs and a few of the spikes breaking off, it still stood tall. It glared angrily at Johnson as he stood up, roaring into his face while he placed his cigar back into his mouth.
"Too hot for ya, Smokey?" he asked, reloading his magnum and aiming it at the monster.
It roared again in response, but just as it prepared to maul Johnson, Qrow suddenly reappeared, slamming into the side of the bear with enough force to send it skidding back. The bear's claws carved deeply into the dirt, and when it stopped it roared angrily at the Huntsman. Qrow, however, merely charged at the bear and swung his sword, meeting its arms head on. To Johnson's shock, Qrow stopped the powerful blow dead in its tracks, the impact creating a small crater in the soil under his feet.
As Johnson recollected his bearings and reloaded his MA5B, Qrow kicked the Grimm away then swung Harbinger upward across its chin. The blade split the head in half, the remains barely connected to the neck by a string of black sinew. With an almost absentminded push with his free hand, the Grimm fell to the ground and disintegrated into dust. Only then did the Huntsman turn to face Johnson, who was staring at him incredulously.
"What?" Qrow asked as the battle waged around them. From the corner of his eye, Johnson saw the rest of the Huntsmen engage the Grimm head on, displaying outlandish feats of speed and strength that were far beyond what anyone could naturally do. After a few moments of staring, Johnson turned back to Qrow.
"How are you doing that?" Johnson asked, and Qrow raised his eyebrow. After a moment, he understood where Johnson was coming from and shrugged.
"Aura," Qrow nonchalantly answered as though it was obvious.
"What the hell is Aura?" Johnson demanded.
"Soul powers," Qrow answered matter-of-factly.
Johnson was about to inquire more, only for them to hear another Deathstalker barrel its way towards them. Both warriors turned around and prepared to face the creature, but then something slammed into the top of the monster's carapace. The Deathstalker's entire body caved in from the impact, and as it disintegrated they saw a dark metal box imbedded into the earth. A moment later, the front exploded off, revealing an ODST brandishing a shotgun who immediately fired an 8-guage shell into the head of another Grimm. All around them, they saw other drop pods land, each ferrying a lone ODST who immediately engaged the enemy all around them. At the same time, a few Albatross dropships landed, depositing their stored Scorpion tanks which rolled out and fired their cannons and machine guns, both coaxial and secondary, into the Grimm.
Qrow glanced upward where he saw other pods descend from the upper atmosphere, and he asked, "Did those guys just drop from orbit?"
"They did, yes," Johnson confirmed. "ODSTs tend to be crazy enough to do that routinely."
"…Huh," Qrow replied, a hint of respect in his voice. Johnson couldn't help but chuckle at the familiar reaction. People tended to do that when they learned just what ODSTs did on a regular basis.
A victorious and jubilant roar of approval went out from their ranks as the battle picked back up in earnest. Johnson smiled and glanced at Qrow, who was smiling as well despite his gruff demeanor. He then looked at Johnson, and the two warriors nodded at each other before rushing back out to reengage.
Ozpin's focus was divided at the moment. On the one hand, he had to worry about the situation on the ground. Although it was certainly improving, with the UNSC's forces rallying behind the Huntsmen and Huntresses Remnant had brought to bear, things could always turn south at a moment's notice. It was when things were going well that the rug tended to be ripped out from underneath someone's feet, after all. At the same time, Ozpin was focused on the reactions of the UNSC delegation. The looks on their faces as they watched Huntsmen and Huntresses operate at peak ability spoke loudly of their surprise and wonder.
"What is this?" Cole breathlessly asked as they watched a Huntress from Mistral slam a massive hammer into the head of a Beowolf, cratering the ground and causing the earth to split apart and rupture.
"This shouldn't be physically possible. Humans are not this strong or fast," Hannibal noted as another Huntsman, wielding a sword, flashed through a line of Creeps and Ursa and cut them all in half seemingly in one fell swoop. Another took a blow from an Ursa that was enough to destroy one of the UNSC's Warthogs, yet the woman merely got up no worse for wear and reengaged with a battle cry. Despite being an AI, the wonder in Hannibal's voice was easily conveyed.
Then Halsey, who was looking at the footage with a calculating gaze, turned her attention towards Ozpin and asked, "Professor, do you mind explaining what is going on? These Huntsmen and Huntresses of yours, are they biologically augmented in some way or using some otherwise highly specialized technology?"
Shaking his head while letting out a small knowing smile, Ozpin answered, "While Huntsmen and Huntresses do use their own unique weapons and equipment, they are not biologically augmented. They are merely using their Aura and Semblances."
That caused the Admiral to break his attention from the holotable, and he raised his eyebrow while asking, "Aura? Semblances? Forgive me, but I do not quite understand."
"It is alright," Ozpin replied.
He had figured this discussion was going to happen sooner or later, and at the very least he now had absolute confirmation that, up until this point, the UNSC had never encountered Aura before. Although the Headmaster would have preferred a much calmer environment to explain such matters, he had to work with the hand he was dealt. Ozpin motioned for Glynda to take the reins, and she did so immediately.
"Given our current circumstances," Glynda began as they heard an explosion of a rocket that caused the window to shake, which briefly drowned out the sound of machine gun fire going off on the balconies surrounding them, "I'll make this brief. Once this is over, I'll be more than happy to explain in further detail. Aura, as we know it, is the physical manifestation of an individual's very soul."
"Their soul?" Halsey incredulously asked, clearly disbelieving the deputy headmistress. "Forgive me if I don't believe that. There is no evidence to support that such a thing actually exists beyond religious belief."
"I can assure you, Doctor Halsey, that it very much does. Aura is measurable, quantifiable, and most importantly, real," Glynda insisted. "Our people have known of it and how to use it since the dawn of recorded history, and it has proven to be our greatest weapon and defense against the Grimm. Those who have it active enjoy increased strength, speed, regeneration, and durability. In a word, they become superhuman."
Halsey's perpetual frown deepened and she looked ready to retort, but Admiral Cole cut her off with a raised hand. After a quick glare, she conceded and backed off. Nodding towards the civilian doctor then turning back towards the headmasters, Admiral Cole added, "I must admit, I find that claim to be suspect as well. None of our research over the centuries has indicated that the soul actually exists. What proof do you have that says otherwise?"
Nodding towards Admiral Cole, Glynda Goodwitch raised her hand with her fingers pointed upward. A moment later, the appendage was enveloped in a purple veil. Then the table itself was encased in a similar sheen, and to the UNSC's surprise, it defied gravity itself and was lifted into the air high above their heads. All of the UNSC personnel were staring incredulously at the display of power, then Glynda gently lowered the table back onto the floor exactly where it previously resided. Hannibal's avatar was still displayed on top, staring deeply at the tabletop before his entire body briefly flickered.
"Ma'am," he began, his voice soft as he slowly turned his head towards Glynda Goodwitch, "how did you do that? There were no electrical signals being activated, no signs of anti-gravity mechanisms suddenly coming online. Yet you clearly lifted this table. I…don't understand."
"That," Glynda explained, "was Aura. Specifically, my Semblance, Telekinesis. Semblances are the purest proof that Aura and the soul exists, as they are tangible manifestations of it upon the physical world. They are fueled by Aura, and are unique to each and every individual. Although Semblances can be similar to others, no two Semblances are exactly the same."
"They can also be quite varied, yet do have limitations," Professor Rumpole added, gently placing her hand against the wooden table. A moment later, to Cole's, Halsey's, and Hannibal's mutual surprise, the object turned to gold. "My Semblance is Golden Touch, which allows me to turn any object I wish into solid gold. I cannot turn it back, however, so I must be careful as to what I use it on."
Hannibal was now flickering sporadically, clearly trying and failing to comprehend the sudden change of elements. Both Admiral Cole and Doctor Halsey were in similar states, with their jaws hanging loosely.
"Impossible…" Halsey breathed out, rubbing her finger along the golden surface. Admiral Cole then looked back up at Ozpin and swallowed a lump in his throat.
"Can…" Cole paused, then continued, "Can anyone use their…Aura?"
"On Remnant? Yes, even plants and animals on occasion," Professor Lionheart explained. "So long as one has a soul, you are capable of having and utilizing Aura. Grimm do not have souls, therefore they are unable to use it, thank the Gods."
"To that matter, Professor Ozpin attempted to unlock Sergeant Grave's Aura before he woke up," General Ironwood said. "Unfortunately, it did not work for some reason."
"Not for lack of trying, on my part," Ozpin added with a soft frown. "I felt the Sergeant's soul, but nothing gave no matter how much I tried. It was most perplexing."
"I…see," Admiral Cole replied softly.
As another explosion went off, he turned his head towards the battlefield, where he saw the Huntsmen and Huntresses continue their work. Halsey and Hannibal joined him, and Ozpin studied their faces closely. Their expressions were filled with a mixture of emotions. At first, Ozpin saw wonder and awe, much like a child the first time they saw a Huntsman in action. That wonder then turned to hope, their eyes brightening in such a way that seemed like they hadn't done so in a very long time. Then, their expression shifted again, and Ozpin saw that hope and wonder turn to calculation.
Right then and there, Ozpin knew that they were planning something, and he wasn't certain Remnant was going to like it. Before he could speak up, however, he heard a faint voice coming from Admiral Cole's and Doctor Halsey's earpieces. Ozpin immediately focused his senses on whatever they were saying, and although the audio was faint, he could understand it clearly enough.
"Admiral Cole, this is Sierra-117," a deep male voice declared. "We have eyes on the Alpha Grimm. Moving to engage."
[~][~]
Hello, everyone! Here is the latest chapter of Dust and Echoes. Special thanks to Jesse K and NaanContributor for their assistance. Admittedly, this chapter was originally going to be longer, but as I got to this point I realized this was a perfect stopping point and thus allowed me to get the chapter to you guys much quicker. So, I think it evens out.
Now, for the Q&A:
Guest (1): I intend to, don't worry.
thetyrant67: Thank you, that's one of the things I've set out to do in this story. I despise wank fics, as they are just so boring and, frankly, uninspired. I fully intend to address these sort of difficulties, and thematically both stories are meant to have equal weight, for the most part.
siphonalobject1: Thank you, I really appreciate that.
Cyberpunk1-009: Character interactions are really the heart and soul of this story, as without it there'd be no reason to care about what happens in the story itself.
Guest (2): The requirements for wearing ARTEMIS armor will be revealed in due time. It isn't MJOLNIR, though, as they don't have the proper augmentations for it to function safely if their Aura breaks.
Sazq: Thank you, glad to hear it.
chidoriprime: Just a clarification, Dust isn't on other planets, it's just that both sides came together and figured out how to get it working off Remnant. There also aren't any Remnant colonies, merely a shitload of Huntsmen, Huntresses, and Remnant soldiers fighting the Covenant. But yes, by the time of the prologue, the UNSC and Remnant have been working together for about 10 years. The current arc is explaining how they met, with the next arc building up to the Battle of Remnant. I'm glad you've enjoyed the story so much.
AlternatexReality212: Thank you, that means a lot to me.
kpmh2001: Exactly. This was in full force in this chapter. I focused mostly on Johnson's POV for the battle itself, which while limiting the scope of what was going on in view, rest assured that other stuff was happening at the same time. Not everything can be detailed in the actual story, as otherwise it gets overwhelming very fast. Both to you guys and to me. There is such a thing as too much detail, and it can be just as dangerous as too little.
Junior Chief: As do I, unfortunately not every story gets it right in my opinion. I've been trying my best to avoid those pitfalls.
Guest (2): The problem would be getting her in a cryo tube to begin with, and whether or not it'll hold her in the first place. More importantly, that would be falling into the common mistake of thinking physical means would be enough to stop her when RWBY proper has shown that isn't the case.
The Avenging Titan: Thank you, I'm really happy to hear that. In my stories, I always try my best not to beat down or make one side of the crossover seem less important than the other, thematically at least, and proper balancing goes a long way in ensuring that. We really want to make sure that this story comes out as good as it can be, and I'm happy that so many of you guys are appreciating our efforts thus far.
Guest (3): Thank you, and don't worry I won't be going into villains are stupid-halo curbstomp territory, as that would be boring and unimaginative.
Knighthunter911700: Thank you. We're putting a lot of effort in making sure this meeting works properly.
Guardian788: Thank you, I appreciate that.
DefenseSquadofDefenseSquad: Don't worry, I won't be making the RWBY side extremely weak compared to Halo or vice versa. I intend to utilize both properly, and power scale balancing is a key part of that.
FanfictionLover76: I enjoy slow placed stories, really. Arguably all of my stories are, even if Hunters of Justice literally started off with a world-shattering bang. It's what I prefer to do as I feel it brings more emotional weight to it all. To that point, the conflict of a heavily militarized society by necessity clashing with a society that hates that stuff will be a really interesting angle to explore, and I intend to milk that for all it's worth.
DarkySunRise: Thank you, I really appreciate that. Rest assured, the next chapter(s) are coming. You guys will just have to wait for it.
Steelrain66: I do intend to use Sienna a bit more in my story. What that entails will be revealed in due time.
Vein Bloodborne: I cannot answer that at the moment.
nliochristou: That will be revealed in due time.
That's it for this chapter. I hope you guys enjoy and let us know what you think. See you all next time!