39 For Atlas

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Beta(s) :

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To be clear, Salem's story is resolved in this.

She shan't be returning.

Just to, ya know, deal with people's expectations regarding that. Her Yeetening, as I shall call it, was the finality of her story. This ain't a Salem story, lol.

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"Her entire back is bruised, three ribs were fractured and one was broken, but Penny shielded her from the worst of it." Oscar explained to him, dressed in a filthy white coat and leaning on the cane in front of him. Thel rumbled an acknowledgement and Oscar went on, "Her Aura is working, Arbiter."

"And teh others?"

"Exhaustion, bruising, Yang had a sprained ankle…" Oscar sighed, "Blake had it the worst."

"Oh?"

"Concussion, a dislocated shoulder and a fracture in her bicep, and some internal damage." He rattled out quickly, "Nora was second worst when she came in. Electrical burns and scarring across her entire body. She's in recovery now."

"Good." He sighed, "That's… That's good."

"Are you alright?"

"I am uninjured."

"Arbiter…" Oscar turned towards him with a weary sort of sigh, bringing his cane down against the concrete with a heavy clack that drew his gaze around to him. "I didn't ask if you were hurt, Arbiter. I asked if you were alright."

"I…" He paused, for a moment, to consider what to say. Finally, rather than answer, he said, "You are different, Oscar."

"Oh?" He blinked and cocked his head to one side, brows furrowing in thought. "Do I really seem that different to you…?"

"You seem more… Well, I don't quite know how to say it." Mature, for one, and far more insightful for two. Both of which worried him. Concerned, he stepped closer and asked lowly, "It… Is Oscar, I hope?"

"It, uh, it is, yeah, Arbiter." The boy sighed, shook his head and turned his back to the rest of the medical tent the young warriors were being tended to in. "I can tell he… I don't know, influenced me, I guess? It's kinda hard to describe. He's still quiet, but he feeds me information when I need it."

"Like with Penny…"

"And more." He grunted under his breath. When Thel rumbled curiously, he explained, "When everything was, you know, going on, there at the end, the medical wing was… Attacked. The bomb went off before I could see by who - I was shoved behind a cabinet with a nurse while the guards dealt with it."

"And then the fall…"

"Yeah." Oscar nodded, tapping his cane gently on the ground in a rhythm the Arbiter didn't recognize while he thought. Finally he went on, "But before that I was… Helping. I shouldn't have, you know, been able to do much, but my hands just… Moved right. I knew where to stand, what to do, what to say- I think Oz gave me what I needed."

"I see…" So he was safe from consumption, at least for now. He sighed and laid a hand on the boy's shoulder, "Hold out, young one. I would love to show you my home."

"Before I'm gone, you mean…?"

"Indeed." He rumbled sadly, squeezing the boy's shoulders affectionately and, he hoped, comfortingly before he released him and turned away. "I am sorry for it, but…"

"It's okay." Oscar sighed and smiled, but both were tired gestures. More weary than a boy should even be capable of, and that left an echo of pain deep in the Arbiter's heart. "I've, you know, made peace with it. There are people that'll remember me for me, and I've helped make the world safer. Or, well, I mean… I was there when you guys did, at least."

"You helped us." He affirmed heavily, "Never doubt that, Oscar. You were here, and you helped us on our way in your own manner. As I did, as the Spartans did- As all did. Salem is gone, far from here or dead, it does not matter. And in that, you played a hand."

"Yeah…" Oscar's cane stopped, finally, and he asked, "Would you go somewhere with me? When we can, you know, just fly off for a bit."

"It will be some time," he warned, "but I would be happy to. Where do you wish to go?"

"Home." He answered, "I wanna tell my folks about all this. They deserve to know. And, well…"

"What better proof is there than my coming with you?" He nodded his understanding, "I will come along happily. As, I am certain, will the others if you so desire."

"I didn't, you know, wanna be a bother…"

"Yet you asked me?" The boy flushed darkly and Thel rumbled a laugh and shook his great head. "Ask them, Oscar. I would bet much that they will be happy to come with us."

"Yeah." Oscar sighed, "I mean, I guss the worst they can say is no. Right?"

"Indeed."

"Arbiter." He turned to the open tent flap as a soldier poked his head in, helmet dented and dirty but still serving its duty as well as the soldier was. "General Ironwood asked for you. On a call to Menagerie, out of Alpha Tent."

"I am on my way." He nodded and turned to Oscar. "Wish me luck, young one."

"Good luck." Oscar sighed, "You're probably gonna need it."

"Truer words…"

Outside, the world was bright but frigid, the sun rising on a frigid, overcast day.

What was left of Atlas' fleet loomed low in a perimeter measured in miles, circling the tent-city that the General had ordered constructed in the crater of the old city, once it had been cleared by his engineers' concentrated efforts. Whoever could not be quartered in the circling vessels themselves, as well as those who had work that required they stay on the ground, found in the ruins of the Kingdom and had settled in. Wounded as well crowded medical tents like the one he had just left, scattered around the camp strategically so that all were always near them.

And, at the center of it all, stood a taller tent erected on a fallen slab of concrete that gave it a moderate view of the rest of the camp, with a tall antenna built at one end topped by a dish not unlike those he'd seen the UNSC use on occasion.

Some things seemed destined for similarity brought on by their purpose…

The command tent was separated from the surrounding tent-city by an expanse of about five feet of cleared, uneven ground patrolled regularly by over two dozen soldiers. Each of whom had been hand-picked by the General himself. A stark measure to take, the young knight had told him. And a steep drain on their manpower when they needed it most. But given that Atlas' fate had been sealed by infiltration…

Thel was, perhaps, more forgiving of the heavy-handedness than his comrades were capable of.

"Arbiter." One of the two guards flanking the dull-grey tent flap that admitted entry to the command tent. He stepped forward and sighed apologetically, "You know the drill. Right, Sir?"

"I do." He nodded, handing him the Bane and allowing him to attach the thick metal plate over the hard-light blade emitter of his false arm without complaint. It was cumbersome, and bothersome, but the General allowed no weaponry into his tent.

Save for his own, and those of his guards, of course.

Inside, the command tent was relatively spartan. Most of the center was taken up by the recovered holo-display system from teh General's office, the front was filled by a pair of communications consoles that flanked the entrance. The back was filled by a bulky, blocky Dust generator that rumbled lowly as it powered the tent's complicated, power-hungry systems.

"Thel…" The man sighed as he pushed off the console of the holo-display and turned to him. His skin had paled a bit, and he had bags under his eyes, but his eyes were firm and he stood straight. Quietly, he asked, "How are the children?"

"They are wounded. Bloodied." He answered simply, lumbering forward to the edge of his personal space and then cocking his head to meet his gaze evenly, "But unbroken, General. Their resilience is… Astounding."

"Indeed." He frowned, "I spoke to Miss Rose."

"I was told she was resting…"

"She was, yes." He nodded and then frowned when Thel jerked his head away from him and paced around the holo-display to stand opposite of the man. While he did, the weary General explained, "I needed answers. According to her, I gave permission for…" He paused to take a steadying breath and growled, "For what happened."

"I see…" He took a moment to look up at the holo-map of fallen Atlas and Mantle and growled lowly, "If she says it, then it is true."

"Yet, I didn't give anyone my permission to do this."

"Then who…?"

"Roland." The General asserted simply, "He also seized control of my security systems and locked my office down."

"I see…" That was not good at all. And for a wide assortment of reasons. If Roland were going rampant with total control of the only weapons platform capable of orbital transit… The consequences would be quite obviously dire. But, more interestingly, "Why have you called on me, General?"

"To ensure Roland doesn't prevent me reaching out to the Spartans."

"I see." He hummed, then asked, "And what would you have him do?"

"Pardon?"

"What would you have the Master Chief do about Roland?" He elaborated, and then added, "Do not forget that he is our only path home, General. Mine and the Demons. And now, your only path to protecting both your people and your sovereignty. To seek his punishment here, now, is to risk all."

"So what, then?" Ironwood growled, "What are you suggesting?"

"Nothing." He hummed, eyes narrowing appraisingly. "Merely offering my thoughts. I do wonder, though… Have you asked for his?"

"Whose?"

"Roland's." He answered, "Obviously."

"Of course not."

"You do not think them important?" He asked and then huffed his surprise, "How odd. I should think that the perpetrator of a crime's intent is the most important aspect of it."

"I disagree." Ironwood grunted shortly, "Only their guilt, and the result of it all, should matter. That and the justice which follows."

"Mhm. Atlas and Mantle left but a rubble-strewn memory. Its people, cast to the winds." He mused quietly, though loudly enough to be heard, "But I suppose justice has no price. Is that not right?"

"You're playing a dangerous game, Arbiter…"

"I have made a habit of playing dangerous games, General." He answered simply, gesturing with a hand at the tent around them - and the broken city beyond. "My people could help you rebuild. And would do so happily. But they need to know to come here. They need to hear me. Without that…"

"So, what?" Ironwood demanded, "I should just forgive Roland's treason?"

"No. I would never ask for such a thing, General." He rumbled sharply, reaching out to lay a hand on the edge of the holo-display's console. Looking up at the live map of the ruined Kingdom, yellow icons of Atlas craft and formations flitting across it in a beautiful sort of organized chaos. "No, what I suggest is acceptance."

"Acceptance…?"

"For what has been." Thel answered quietly, looking down to meet the man's eyes. "Atlas has fallen, General. Justice, as well-meaning and earned as it might be, will not serve it. Tragedy it truly is, but injustice, I fear, is for the best here."

"I suppose you'd know all about that." Ironwood rumbled dangerously, a cold, sharp edge crossing his voice. When Thel closed his eyes and dipped his head, the man sighed and added, quietly, "I… I'm sorry, Arbiter. That was uncalled for."

"No." He rumbled and sighed, long and deep and forlorn, "It was not."

For a while, the two stood in silence, simply watching the Atlesian soldiers go about their business on the display. It was Ironwood who spoke, sounding resigned and so very tired all of the sudden, "I suppose I don't have a choice. Do I?"

"You do." Thel countered, "It is merely a bad one."

"...I see. So that's how it is, then." Ironwood sighed that tired sigh again and ran his fingers through his short, frazzled and tatty beard. Then, he nodded and said, voice forced to the point it sounded painful, "I suppose it's decided then. For… For Atlas' sake."

"For Atlas' sake." Thel nodded quietly.

"We'll… We'll need to find a way to reach Roland, then." Ironwood sighed and, when Thel cocked his head in confusion, explained, "I had my technicians scrub my network and reboot it before it was nexused here."

"I see." He hummed, before amusement strook and he asked, "How did they fare, Roland?"

"Not very well, honestly, but honestly? A bit better than I expected." The AI's voice echoed out of the holo-display's integrated sound system, laced with static and echoing quietly. His avatar materialized over the fallen Kingdom's display. His arms were folded, and he looked displeased as he said, "By the way, so we're all aware, I did save the world."

"By destroying my Kingdom…"

"The people live, General." Thel rumbled before he returned his attention to the AI, "And you… You have the schematics."

"I do, yeah." Roland nodded, "But Ruby's team couldn't get into the Vault even with a Maiden. So, no Relic."

"Then we'll need to do it the hard way… Because of course we do." Ironwood sighed and then straightened with a deep breath, as though drawing fresh breath into himself. His gaze hardened, then, and he went on, "I need a list of materials, Roland. And the means to manufacture the parts you need as well."

"The technology…"

"Atlas is the most technologically advanced Kingdom in Remnant's history." Ironwood assured the AI, "Give us the schematics, and time. And we will build it."

"...Alright then." Roland sighed tiredly, "But here is probably going to be harder to use than Menagerie."

"Then I'll ask the Chieftain for help." The man answered instantly, "Pass the message along. I'll come and beg if I need to but-"

Roland cut him off with a raised hand and then bobbed his head once. Then, another man's voice echoed out from the speakers, "Uh, hello? Is this, um, is this connection working? I can't tell from my end."

"It is, mister…?"

"Ah, apologies, you can't see me, I suppose." The man laughed, a deep, bassy sound that rumbled warmly out into the cold air inside the tent. "Ghira Belladonna. Chieftain Ghira Belladonna that is. I hear you could use our help with something?"

"Yes, Chieftain." Ironwood answered, voice flat and level as always, betraying none of the man's surprise. If there was any. "Whatever you want in exchange, if it is in my power, I will-"

"I don't want anything, General." The man cut the general off before he chuckled, "Well, maybe a revisit to Atlas' labor laws? If you're looking for a way to make it even, I mean. I know some men are that type, always avoiding debts and all that nonsense."

"I… See." This time, Thel caught the faint widening of his eyes, but that was all the man offered to convey his surprise. Leaning forward on the holo-display, he nodded and said, "We need to get started, then. Roland, reach out through my network and contact Doctor Pietro Polendina. He'll head the project, so relay what we can provide now to him."

"Yes, General."

"Thel-"

"I will join your warriors." He rumbled as he turned for the exit, "We will keep the Grimm at bay while you work."

"I…" Thel paused and cocked his head to hear his words, but all the General offered was quiet, "Thank you."

"It is my honor." Thel nodded before he slipped out into the Atlesian cold.

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The Lone Gunslinger :

That was entirely on purpose! You'll notice I also made sure Linda couldn't see into the room for most of the fight and that Kelly was between her and Adam as well, all upping the chance of stray shots capable of severely wounding or killing the Spartan.

Because as fun - and deserved - as Adam getting beat into the dirt by Fred would be, I wanted a decent fight.

Dragon Lord Draco :

Magic is the Gods' powers manifesting. The gods can use their power in space, so I have literally zero logic to say magic doesn't work in space, too. Also, she less made a 'space suit' and more 'magiced up a scummy thing approximating a dive-suit after suffocating to death fifteen times'.

Guest :

Yeah, I get called slurs all the time. Its fine. Just report them, that's what I do.

Poofy Ohio :

I mean *shrugs* I just watch their canon scenes and carbon copy them, really. I don't do much special.

You're right, intimacy doesn't - but there are types of intimacy. Holding hands is intimate, but friends can do that. But I ain't about to press myself up against my bro and nuzzle his forehead, lol. I am, however, a plant, so I may just be reaching for sense that isn't there. In which case, apologies.

Joe Cola :

Yes! Mettle has a lot of risks, but keeping him cool and focused is a major plus - and good work, catching that it was active here.

KPMH 2001 :

Why Penny looks like a girl is simple and two fold - one, she is. And two, that was by design, as the intention was apparently to design manufacturable hosts and a transfer device for the Maiden powers. Or is it coincidence Atlas was designing both these items in tandem?

So? In the show, rationale, logic - none of that mattered to James in the end. Loyalty did. Ironwood picked people to lead who he had personal loyalty from. It's a common tactic of fascists and fascist adjacent people, which insulates them from resistance to their decisions. So while the GRUNTS might not all fall in line, the Ace-Ops and upper command have almost certainly been trained with obedience at the fore, not 'selfish thoughts' like family.

Shadow Dawn :

The simplest part to explain will be the first -

I put Nuts 'n Dolts in purely for my own enjoyment and happiness. The scenes with them are there because I like the ship, and include them for that reason. Selfish? Yep. But respectfully, it's my story, and I am writing it to enjoy it. I hope you can vibe.

Saffron and Terra were dwelt upon for characterization - Thel's culture is one that is very conservative. Very static and rigid. I wanted to show him being put out of his element and adapting to it. It we a demonstration in empathy and tolerance.

The extra story details you mention WOULD - and will - be good for a Nuts 'n Dolts story. But not this one. I plan to write a story for them later, but this is the end of Thel's path on Remnant. A massive existential side-story about my favorite ship, while FUCKING AWESOME coneptually, isn't well-placed here.

As for Crim - she was never a Chekov's Gun. She was a red herring for one. However, it's hinted - and true - that she was in prison during the Fang attack and then the Grimm one. Argus didn't fall, so she's fine. But if that is, to you, a slip-up then I apologize for it.

Thanks for reading~!

Razmire :

Just happy to see you! No worries.

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