Enter Stage Right: Legend of Galactic Heroes/Mass Effect Crossover (Commissioned Novella length story)

[WyrmofFrost]

Enter Stage Right: Legend of Galactic Heroes/Mass Effect Crossover
Chapter 01
By WyrmofFrost

Disclaimer: LoGH, Mass Effect, and related franchises are the property of their respective owners. I claim nothing that is not my own.

Floating in a system listed only by its survey alphanumerical was the Hensa class cruiser Vigilant Gaze, drives off as it drifted with high speed towards its destination. The Vigilant Gaze was listed as decommissioned after faults in its drive core were found and deemed too costly to refurbish over simply buying a new cruiser. A story that any Batarian who did not take those words at first glance would assume to be a case of corruption and graft across several levels but otherwise unremarkable. That was how things were in the Hegemony as the slowly rotting nation refused to stop shambling forward. In reality the ship had been taken by the Special Intervention Unit for its black ops branch. They who desperately kept the best hope for the Batarian people intact, not thriving, not prosperous, but not destroyed either.

Though to call them a group of heroes would be much too far, they were realistic enough to know that that was a bridge too far. Still the average SIU member had a pragmatic understanding of their goal and a realist method of undertaking it. Mostly. The Vigilant Gaze was waylaid by one such figure. Eventually ending up in the hands of the Black Eyes paramilitary group, a pirate cum merc cum catspaw for the SIU. One of its major ones due to having said cruiser as part of a senior SIU officer's pet project. Here and now that project was taking its first step as the cruiser sent out its mass information, seconds later it was snagged by a blue field before being slung off into the far reaches. The activation of Codename Black Mountain had succeeded. The first step on the road to freedom from the Citadel Council's oppression had begun. Just need a few bullets and some steel toed boots to do it.

The first sight the Vigilant Gaze's bridge crew had on the other side was of a rapidly expanding debris field of ice. The sensor specialist immediately leapt to hyper attention on his console as the collision alarm rang out across the ship. "Shipmaster! The mass relay appears to have been encased in ice sufficient for a dwarf planet. The delay of activation appears to have been the relay's safety mechanism attempting to prevent transition until an acceptable margin of empty space was available".

Shipmaster Garak nodded, the man of no notable lineage had been chosen by his patron for his steady demeanor and crew retention rate. No need to replace bodies too often on hidden projects such as this. Bribery went only so far to keep people quiet. "Helm, keep us as steady as possible out of this field. Weapons, activate Gardian system. Make sure our barriers are fully active, I don't want the paintjob to be scratched" was the laconically given order. Garak did not bother with pretentious and overdramatic declarations, while he might not have the SIU's dreaded uniform on he did not need it. The crew knew what would happen if he was crossed, one could not learn if they were dead after all.

As the crew followed instructions the same sensor specialist hit the contact alarm. "Artificial signature detected! Unknown ship of cruiser class weight off to port alongside an unknown orbital body! No weapon or kinetic barriers seem active. Display on captain's console, now".

Garak's four eyes swept over the projected information, the image being refined more and more by the onboard computers and the sensor specialist's actions. That is until the active feed stopped. What was left showed the outline of some bulky thing with a great deal of unknown protrusions amidship alongside a large engine section. Nothing particularly threatening looking.

"Active EW scrambling detected. Attempting to compensate" reported the EW specialist from their console. "Weapons have 30% lock. Should we engage?" came from the weapons console.

"Fire a warning shot. Comms, are they putting anything out from that rustbucket?" placidly ordered Garak. The reply he received was a negative. The shot had done nothing noticeable. "Then fire another shot, if nothing happens then attempt to target their engines". The ship shuddered minutely as another low powered shot from the main gun streaked out.

"EW field still strong but we have compensated, two-thirds strength loss of fidelity to systems" Garak grunted, that was not good. Not quite dedicated military grade systems but too good for some hodgepodge terminus work. Not that Garak believed this was some terminus trash considering the only just unburied relay, well a known one at least. Another species then. A picket or something less official? Those thoughts and more flowed through his mind as he waited for something further to happen. The bridge crew seeing nothing but their Shipmaster being stoic and attentive to his holoscreen. The wise officer realized that hating a situation for not progressing was foolish, especially to take it out on one's subordinates. Base fear was for scum who could do no better. Better they be taken and reforged for the betterment of the state over wallowing in their own degeneracy.

"Possible message on unconventional channel. Closest we have is to the emergency frequencies and it is still only a partial match. Nothing matched to common database" reported the Comms specialist, their voice cool and clipped as they continued tapping away at their console.

"Copy the data to our database, have cryptology assist in ensuring it is not corrupted" Garak dictated. They would likely not be able to translate this if it was anything but a prothean derived code. Even then they might not get anything out of that, the protheans had had quite the diverse set of languages. But it would give them a basis to work off of by better equipped divisions.

'Hmm if only we had some unscrupulous Asari on retainer. Perhaps something to note for later now that we have confirmation on sophont contact' Garak mused to himself. There was a spectrum to Ardat Yakshi or at least similar enough mentally deranged sorts for hire if you knew the right contacts. Moving his hand through the motion he brought up an audio sample. Strange, somewhat familiar in vocals to an asari but still quite different. Irrelevant, he needed to set up a beachhead not take slaves. Best relay that intention.

"Don't bother taking prisoners unless they look important when we send the boarding parties. But try to keep things intact, we need salvage to study" Garak spoke to the Master of Arms on the bridge who saluted with his fist before relaying the directive.

"Ship is attempting to flee!", "EW strength increasing!" reported each respective station.

"Targets identified, preparing to engage with secondary battery" declared the weapons officer. The Hensa "Peacekeeping" refit variant had a significant turret mounted armament unique to it. It was inadequate for a peer to peer conflict, but gave better options for chasing down smaller and weaker prey.

Soon enough they had identified the engines and comms array responsible for the ECM, however external scans of the now identified asteroid base showed less fidelity then was preferred but also that whatever protection was being used was not as good as proper dedicated anti-sensor coating. Garak considered those facts and came to the obvious to him conclusion. "Smugglers considering the lack of return fire. This should be simple enough. Send in the fighters to probe for defenses, have the assault shuttles come in close behind". A cruiser like the Hensa was not made for fleet-to-fleet battles but instead "Law Enforcement", something that meant an oversized small craft complement and ample barrack space.

The assault wave quickly passed the now drifting wreck of the unknown ship, its lack of return fire and a closer in look showed it as some sort of freighter. While several craft quickly latched onto the drifting hulk to slow it down and seize it, the majority continued on to the asteroid base. The local EM waves silent as everything that looked like some sort of transmitter was shot. They had no desperate pleading to soil the EM spectrum.

As the Shipmaster watched his forces gather up for their attack he had to bitterly commiserate. Batarian hardware was not usually of good quality but against a foe that had no real effective weaponry it was more than enough. If apparently just barely as casualty reports started feeding back to the ship along with flashes of light on the displays. A few strange gardian batteries had opened up here and there that seemed particularly effective. Able to spear through even a Batarian heavily armored assault shuttle, but they were quickly singled out for destruction. A handful of the less wary fighters were destroyed but no major losses there, Garak knew that he could rely on resupply if he got results. "Not going to need the S&R shuttles Shipmaster, should I recall them and prepare additional boarding parties?" questioned the Hanger Chief on comms. The slight hub hub of a busy hanger bay filtering in from the background.

Garak shook his head at the camera, "No, we will need craft open to handle prisoners or wounded. Have a few extra marines but only for self-defense. Have the craft close in below the known range of the enemy batteries". The icons on the tactical display showed that his orders were complied to quickly. No room for sloppy actions here, the best of the middling ranks of the External and Internal forces for the SIU. Any better typically didn't bother with the less then glamorous or typically rewarding work that SIU engaged in, and they had little room for incompetence when the survival of the State and the People was on hand.

The assault shuttles quickly closed in before disgorging hardsuit clad troops equipped with a mix of jetpacks and magnetic grapples. The figures minute even to the high grade telescopes the Vigilant Gaze had quickly laid out breaching charges using the ship-based scans and a few handheld sensor systems. Just enough for knowing what was and was not a corridor or rock, and even then, that was fuzzy. The few that tried the airlocks realized that they couldn't hack something they couldn't interface with so even more explosives were placed. The simultaneous breach gave the attackers enough surprise to easily push aside the early resistance. Garak watching through the camera drones brought along clinically noted the red blood slowly drifting through the air, whatever grav systems in that section he was paying attention to had been knocked out by the initial breach. The aliens they were facing did not have kinetic barriers or much armor at all, yet while most had some outdated kinetics there were a few that had something else. Handheld DEWs he thought in surprise behind a stone facade, only present in pistol format but enough to easily punch through all but the heaviest of his trooper's armor.

Casualties mounted as whoever was in charge there viciously vented out sections or manipulated the anti-grav systems against his marines. But they were obviously not hardened soldiers as they fled after only a few of their own dropped dead. Obvious panic on their face strangely Asarioid faces as his SIU trained paramiltarists pushed hard and fast. A few even getting to use shock batons in CQB as they rushed down hallways, the illegally modified devices not being set to stun. The heavy assault troopers easily broke through any makeshift barricades they encountered with ease. That is of course until they reached what emission scans thought was the engineering room. There they encountered different troops. Well more like fanatics than troops. A strange set of lettered scarves over their softsuits reminiscent of Quarian scarves and equipped with some sort of DEW smg which made a mockery of his forces, even his heavy armor equipped troops going down from the weight of fire. The weapons made a mess of whoever they hit, either piercing clean through or being absorbed and liquifying the organs of the one hit. Nasty things, he wanted a few.

"Make especially sure to have the cleanup crews gather those, and don't let too many of those weapons get taken as trophies" Garak remarked to his bridge staff. One of them would relay his instructions.

Even if a squad was rendered combat ineffective in that first rush, his troops still pushed through with liberal use of stun explosives and the one biotic trooper to break up the firing line. Then it was shock club to knife apparently, and his troopers won that fight. With the fall of engineering, it was only a brief cleanup of any remaining life signs on board. The base and ship were his, and the Hegemony of course. He felt a slight bit of relaxation at that as he signaled to his executive to take over clean up command, he might as well begin getting the report ready to command. And also, to see what was recovered. He was no Batarian if he didn't make sure he got a slice of the cake.

 

[WyrmofFrost]

Disclaimer: LoGH, Mass Effect, and related franchises are the property of their respective owners. I claim nothing that is not my own.

When news returned to the SIU that there was a safely opened Mass Relay and that it had a new species of considerable economic potential but limited defenses, matters drastically changed. At least internally, externally the Hegemony attempted to show business as "usual". Perhaps the purges were a little more effective at taking out moles of various sorts but that was just bad luck. Certainly, the Citadel could get behind the publicly announced new initiatives to curtail piracy in the Terminus that the Hegemony had even begun crosstalks for. It seemed like there was finally the beginning of rapprochement between the two states, of course the surge of STG and other intelligence agents into the area was to be expected. Just needed to plug the previous holes of course. A few leaked memos, seemingly greater acts of corruption, and the newcomers fell into the simplest trap. Seeing what they wanted to see. An apparently tottering state with forces deserting and ever failing bureaucracy that would welcome the Citadel back to bloodlessly allow reform to take place. That pesty traditional custom of slavery in the system may even finally be removed!

Of course, what had actually happened was a surge of black ink to drag additional units in secret for operations in the newly established Special Zone. Secrecy was important but so too was the needed sentient resources to act. Low caste Batarians were gathered up, forced conscription with the promise of land and wealth at the end of things. A few mercenary bands of known political reliability were quietly paid off the books to be ready for a longer-term job, even naval ships being let loose from the production end to the scrappers part of the logistics chain. One ambitious SIU officer even raided Korlus for whatever scrap could be gathered up. The surprise early Citadel era Batarian battlecruiser was not what he expected but was quite the boon. The ship was old, from a time when it was thought that having multiple spinal guns of intermediate length and rapid speed would be the paradigm of war. Severely outdated as it might have been, it was going to be the needed surprise hand in case of any unexpected variables. Sure, the drive core was severely underpowered as they hooked a megafreighter's core into its place, but it could move fast and shoot all day long. That was enough.

But what was most important to gather were the light cruisers, speedy but with some endurance and acceptable sensors. They would form the backbone of efforts as specialized capture and interrogation teams were loaded up, scraped from the best that could be gathered of the many Terminus paramilitaries the Hegemony sponsored. While some had to be diverted for the misinformation campaign, they had the needed expertise to actually make use of the captured databanks or any future prisoners they grab. Cryptography and the Stellar Cartography had done lion's work in translating the captured star charts they had, routes to follow handed out to the ever-expanding Special Area Exploration fleet. The nicely labeled low security zones from the smuggler's ship coming in handy.

The first that many a tramp merchant realized that something was up was when a ship suddenly emerged from behind some piece of stellar astrography, from sensor blind spots of space dust to asteroids. The privateer experience of much of the Batarian fleet coming in handy, knowing what sort of mind ran a merchant ship made an attack simple. Minimum risk, maximum return. Especially in those cases when lone freighters happened upon distress broadcasts and attempted to respond, only to run afoul of an ambush. This kind of rampant piracy was simply not a thing, the free trade zone too economical for armed pirates to try much. Fezzan ran a tight ship and did not brook aggressive competition. Easier to simply scam people then take their things at the point of a gun. This was an outside context problem, and on that would not be revealed in full for some time. Fezzan's insurance companies would have payouts and raise their rates while wild rumors started to pile up in the many bars and spacer joints, but no one took alien pirates seriously.

One of said alien pirates was busy going over paperwork, as annoying as it might have been it was what made their ships and fleets work. Shipmaster Garak was with his ship's quartermaster, making sure that the fleet's own quartermaster received the ship's tithe, and they got their reimbursement back. One could not simply take everything that was not nailed down, they had to catalog what nails they took and send it back up the chain. A greedy member of the fleet was good, one too stupid to know why a tithe was required quickly ran out of fuel and starved to death somewhere when they got their supplies denied with prejudice. So to avoid being labeled a tax evader Garak carefully labeled his finds, what was taken as finder's fees, and sent it to the SIU's own Inspector General's office. Even as a member of the Hegemony's nebulous and shadowy secret service, there were taxes.

The Quartermaster for the Vigilant Gaze, one Ollad Ferin had just handed over the latest completed set of forms when he received an alert. "Hmm, it appears that the away team has returned. They have another light freighter with them. Apparently, the fighter in a box trick actually worked" The officer remarked, baffled.

Garak snorted. "Do something that no one is crazy enough to do and it might work once. Considering who makes the life support for those fighters I would prefer to keep to my ship. At least there are redundancies and spare parts there".

"True, true. But this spreading out is working. The individual hunter packs are capable of hitting loners or small groups and then fading with their prizes. By the Pillars some of the Terminus boys are asking if we can salvage enough of those self-defense batteries to upgun a ship into a privateer. Pickings are still good so far" Ollan reported.

"Hmmph, it has been a good few weeks. But that is enough time for a proper response to start flowing through even the slowest bureaucracy. If we are going to be doing things that need a yardship we may as well just ask for our own ships. At least we can fix those junkers. I don't want to even touch the FTL they are using, those things scare me". Garak admitted to his third officer.

Garak nodded to himself again before letting out a question he had. "Did we even figure out how to make one work? Last, I recall we have been using the scrapper ships to disassemble the parts we want before loading them onto our own transports"

"No, well not in any way useful. We have a few ship-holds full of what should be the entire drive and their control computers just gathering dust. Even a few whole ships, but our efforts are being hampered by the entirely unknown principles the things work with. There is some minimum and maximum travel distance that we are somewhat leery of attempting to figure out manually. Not after we lost the idiots from the Impetuous. Wherever they ended up, it was not in any detectable range. Translating things is still a nightmare for most so until we get a proper package out we can't read or just speak to anyone about anything technical". Ollad noted.

"It is beneath my dignity to perform hand signs like that. I will not be like a child unable to speak properly" Garak snorted.

"A not uncommon view" the Quartermaster hedged. "We do not have the proper specialists that would be needed though I would not be surprised if negotiations are underway through the right channels".

"We have the discharge ships extending the range we can go with our raiders, but we ultimately cover only a small holdfront around the relay. The scale of our foes, that we don't know for sure. The maps are either untranslatable or obviously civilian in nature and thus inaccurate. We will need to figure out a good target to hit before matters come to a fault, there have been rumblings of larger states possibly interfering if we draw too much attention". Olland let out a noise in the back of his throat at that, displeased.

"I would hope we would gather military grade components first; the civilian parts would be good for making sure we have a base understanding but that won't translate to anything strategically important if we cannot make changes to our fleets. Can we take a shipyard, not a civilian one but a military one? Workers, engineers, data prints, even scientists if possible".

Garak nodded. "We need a major world, but one that is not fortified or has enough standing forces to survive a major raid. But that is for others to do unless we hit a lucky break".

Tapping his knuckle on the table as he grabbed another data pad, Garak moved to his next topic. "Have you heard through your contacts anything about our next objective? Command is being cagey about the next step. I do not like operating without a clear vision, not in such uncharted depths. We need a clear goal at the least for the the short term".

"I have, only rumors but . . ." the Quartermaster gave a grin.

"The best and worst of intel yesss. Are we getting any action beyond just taking more merchant prizes?" Garak asked.

"Indeed. We are getting a shipment of shipjacking gear. The kind for hardened targets, along with being told to prep bunk space for heavy troops. I think command wants a target that can actually fight back" Ollad said to the Shipmaster's delight.

"Excellent. A challenge at last" Garak said out lout, his mind already itching to dig through any and all scraps of information he could get to prepare. He had some idea of what a military vessel could be if only from random propaganda posters he had found before. But as a member of the Hegemony, he knew just what kind of "truth" such things could have. But it still gave him ideas. Perhaps if he did a good enough job, hmmm ideas ideas.

 

[WyrmofFrost]

Disclaimer: LoGH, Mass Effect, and related franchises are the property of their respective owners. I claim nothing that is not my own.

Shipmaster Garak watched the display showing the enemy ship slowly closing in, soon to reach his ambush's trigger point. The rather blandly rectangular ship with engine pods did not look particularly special. He suspected as most others would that this ship was not particularly cutting edge else it would not be here in what is easily considered a backwater deployment. Still, he did not go into planning to take one of the alien's warships without all due preparation. Even if negotiations for some "Enhanced" Interrogation experts had stalled due to the state of the budget, brute force data analysis could gather some data points. While mass media tended to get things wrong about a military, the basics could be gathered. And the basics said that the aliens of the Special Zone had energy shields and main battery DEW weaponry. They had apparently solved the issues with that on a small scale from his own new favorite toy, but to be used as the main weapon for all combat? Well that showed a mastery of the technology that the Hegemony needed to have for itself. But his forces did have their own advantages for this fight. The aliens had no functional understanding of mass effect or element zero. Their ships had to settle for raw power to move. While this meant they apparently customarily built ships enough to be far in excess of even the Migrant Fleet in a single flotilla, and wasn't that a heart-stopping moment to find out, well on an individual scale a ship could easily be outmaneuvered by one using mass effect technology. Not so great in a grand fleet battle, but he was a raider, wasn't he?

Garak did not immediately go after the target the instant that he found it. No, he seeded stealthed sensor buoys to observe his target for some time. Found out the standard patrol routes and times, even tested the enemy pickets a few times by setting up rogue asteroids. All to uncover the sort of crews that might be present, finding the difference between whether they would fight on like a Turian or be open to negotiations like a Salarian, or just be all biotics like an Asari. He already had a few experiences from taking some apparent noble's ship that their crews could fight with rather insane stubbornness or simply collapse. That told him that the morale of crews could be varied, something to note if he could find a pattern for just how to find this out ahead of time. Then there were of course the hard facts of their ships. The alien vessels had a slow reaction time to changing situations when compared to the nimbleness that a mass effect vessel could offer. A few tests with unexpected "Navigational Hazards" had shown that enough. But a few gathered propaganda shots apparently taken from actual battles showed that weapon ranges could be on the matter of light seconds, not something that could be overcome so easily. The prideful turians with their grand fleets would be destroyed after a single decisive battle if they tried something like that. Which was why it was so important to take a military grade ship intact.

All of this hinged on him getting his ship in close. His ship while no stealth vessel could easily hide anchored to an asteroid with some appropriate blinds set over it. While most asteroid fields offered more space to maneuver then usually depicted, it still was a good source of sensor clutter. Add to this being a natural choke point in traveling and he had a good spot to do some good old fashion boarding. Which when combined with an appropriate distraction . . . Well looking at the course change Garak could guess that he had succeeded with his bait. It had taken a great deal of arguing but he had wrangled one of the alien freighters they had taken and then summarily rammed it with a few asteroids. A rather garbled transmission set to loop of what he thought were appropriate pleas for help and cries of terror added to it. He even had a few bodies set around the place to float. All to sell the illusion better, the best tricks relied on the fool believing them. And look they did. Moving in closer to investigate the site of this "Tragic" accident.

So far as he could tell this ship had no small craft beyond shuttles, so it just had its own GARDIAN network to defend with. Nothing he had could really stop the civilian defense guns, he didn't want to test the military grade stuff. But he did have a great deal of free debris, didn't he? Well best make use of it. Plenty of metallic asteroids with strapped on booster packs sprinkled with the occasional torpedo here and there taken from fighter munition stocks. Seeded into this strike being was a perhaps excessive number of shuttles he had mag clamped to his cargo bays to use. All of them filled with hardened troops at the minimum equipped with a glut of technically illegal arms in Citadel space. Well, he certainly wasn't there nor had the aliens ever signed those treaties!

When the first wave of junk and shuttles reached a certain point he had his ship go active. This being with the activation of another wave of junk to give him some cover. Expensive but worthwhile as the enemy GARDIAN activated from a range far in excess to even the Salarian's vaunted Ultraviolet systems. They must have detected the explosives, should have with how obvious he made them. All carefully plotted to not be able to destroy themselves as they closed in. Thankfully it seemed as if those beams were not enough to easily damage his ship, oh it cut deeper then most equivalent Citadel systems, but not enough to deal with him. Though he kept out of the identified arcs of the broadside beams. Those would probably do worse he mused as his ship plunged closer. Being smaller then the average turian equivalent cruiser, the Hensa was a compact thing and it helped here with dodging. Garak mused as the ship did a sideways dodge of a missile strike with the use of its reaction thrusters. Perhaps a bonus was in order for his helmsman? Yes, best encourage good performance.

Of course, as soon as he had that good thought the ship was cored straight through by a broadside DEW strike. "Status!!" he demanded as the lights flickered to emergency settings and the consoles went to battery power.

"That strike took out the coolant system for the main reactor! The reactor had an emergency SCRAM to prevent destruction. We are near dead aside from emergency settings on all systems!" reported the com link from Engineering. Well this was a simple choice, he wasn't a Turian to go down with their ship after all.

"Everyone to the shuttles and pods. If we can't use our ship, then we will simply take theirs" he remarked with a carefully bland tone. Something he punctuated by slowly moving to his emergency locker. His own personal stash of a kinetic barrier, overclocked omnitool, and other supplies. Not much protection against a possible laser, but it wasn't like they had anything of the sort. So he just had to not get hit, simple enough considering that was what got him through SIU training.

As the bridge crew went through a roughly coherent evacuation Shipmaster Garak decided his best chance of survival was being with the good troops. Though he spared a moment to look over his emergency light lit bridge, the Vigilant Gaze was a good ship. Hopefully he could get it back after ripping the aliens apart to take their ship. So he rounded up the bridge's armsmen and entered with them in a pod. Batarians being who they were, the escape pods could be swapped out for boarding pods and that was what he had done. So the kick as the cold gas launcher sent the pod clear of the drifting hulk of his ship was joined by rapid acceleration thrusters. The Gs not liquifying the occupants due to the ME core attached to the armored block of metal. The pod's pilot directing their course alongside others as they all made for the alien ship. By this point the first wave had arrived and been disgorged, breaching charges already detonating as they entered what they could guess of the ship's layout. The shuttles meanwhile played a deadly game of suppressing enemy point defense after releasing their contents. A game that was being played just well enough for their second wave to arrive.

The pod latched on and detonated its forward blasting charge. Then the pod roughly shoved itself in the new hole. Then they were out running. Weapons up and ready as they stacked on and through the evident bulkhead door that was slowly closing. Like any good batarian boarding team they had a solution for that. A good old fashioned high strength jack. Not enough to keep the bulkhead from closing but enough to get everyone through with the supplies they had onboard the pod. Then it was hunting time. They had some passive scans of things but it would be important to link up with others to get a better idea of the interiors. The simplest objective would be the reactors, those were hard to hide from even just passive scans. The bridge and proper engineering however would still need to be taken. But it was a common point of doctrine that meant that other teams would be heading there in some force.

Their first example of the alien crew was the desperate fire of some common crewman, not armsmen or marines. No apparent armor and only with pistols with some rather appalling accuracy, well for him rather appealing accuracy as they were unable to shoot straight. Still his trained armsmen had thrown themselves to the walls to decrease the target they presented, weapons retaliating. The spray of mass effect accelerated slugs was deadly, as in many things the Batarians favored brute force. Their weapons did not have the fire rate or efficiency that was more common to Citadel standard weapons, but Batarian State Arms made up for it in brute force power. Small ball bearing sized rounds tore bloody holes in the weak flesh of the aliens. Bloody chunks being ripped out of their flesh as his troopers advanced mercilessly. A few combat signs had them secure anything useful. The alien DEW pistols were a simple take, but the hacker of the team started going through all the data storage devices they could find. No finesse, just raw attack from illegal hacking programs. Garak grunted in acknowledgement as a new map overtook the blank minimap of his helmet display.

It was enough to get them a basic diagram of the ship, no translations for the maps but they could guess at things common to all ship designs. Unless you were an Asari, then the blue bitches did some strange things. Some salarians too, but he doubted this race was as insanely paranoid as those short-lived slugs could be. He wouldn't have gotten on this ship at all if they were! So, with a better idea of their route the team pushed through the maintenance tunnels of the ship, the tight quarters better than the easily shut off hallways even if they could not traverse all of the route through them. Their obvious speed and shock having caught more unarmed crew out of position that were easily gunned down. Best not let them have a chance to send a warning. They painted the halls with the red blood of its formerly alive inhabitants. Nothing personal, just them being in the way. He had the actual sadists kicked from his crew for being inefficient about things. SIU had departments for that sort of mindset. But all too soon the easy times ended as they arrived at an actual serious bulkhead.

Getting serious Garak did a quick five second check of his kit as the others did the same. A few hand gestures had the well drilled team blasting through, concussion grenades bursting as they ran in with tech armor raised. The extra protection was apparently just enough to turn a lethal hit into a wounding one in the initial rush as he could attest to in that hyper focused rush of adrenaline and stims, they were on. The blood and offal of some of his troops spilling into the air and on the floor as the survivors kept plunging forward. Garak felt alive as he finally had the chance to face some real opposition, the fight igniting his usually ice-cold blood. He could see that the enemy was not wearing proper hard suits but instead strange fiber armor over gaudy uniforms. Still the things were tough enough to take a few rounds before failing their wearers. Their ornate helmets however did not fully protect the face so his recoilless DEW SMG got the chance to perforate them. He did not bother aiming as he swung the gun to spray down another target, a blur in his peripheral had him reflexively flicking out an omni-blade to slice through the armor and into the heart of a second enemy. All the troops having been briefed on what their autopsies had uncovered of alien natural weaknesses.

It was a battle at point blank range, the alien's apparent preference for long rifles made with honest to the pillars wood was not conducive to CQB engagement. The laser shotgun he spotted however he would be taking for himself he idly noted when they had wasted their shot on their friend that he had grabbed as a shield. Throwing the corpse forward he thrust forward in a lunge with his blade gauntlet into the alien's weapon arm, the limb now hanging by a thread before a bash of his alien SMG sent that alien writhing to the ground. Then he had to swap to his hand cannon, the battery of his trophy weapon was empty at last after he used it to gun down yet another victim. He knew it was unprofessional but there was a pleased grin on his face as he had the chance to let loose instead of being staid and in command. He liked having the power of a warship at his command, but there was something to being in the thick of things with the blood of your enemies staining your armor.

The fight as all true ones were ended in mere minutes that seemed more like hours. The others not being unfruitful in their own carnage meant that they were left with no more opposition in a timely fashion. Any wounded aliens being put out of their misery, and the same to those of his own too far gone. They had died for the Hegemony and would be rewarded for it though. The Regime took care of its own of course. Loyalty is a prize worth keeping. The ones still intact got their wounds sealed up and left to the corner under the eye of the more upright wounded. Thankfully the hacker was still intact, so it was their job to start shutting things down. While obviously different from the civilian designs they had studied, enough remained the same to figure out the easy to trigger the emergency shut down.

That was apparently enough to take out the ECM that was ever pervasive in the ship. Meaning his crack teams could now coordinate effectively across the ship, an act that showed as they collated their understanding of the ship to wipe out what resistance remained. The butcher's tally would undoubtedly be high since they could not afford to keep many prisoners alive in the fighting, or even properly order any surrenders in the first place. But soon enough one Shipmaster Garak could now count on a new alien cruiser for his own. Just had to figure out how to get it working. And see if his old ship could be patched up. Best contact someone reliable who wouldn't backstab him when he called for a tow home. Yes, he better not squander the blood spent for this success running into a work rival.

 

[WyrmofFrost]

Disclaimer: LoGH, Mass Effect, and related franchises are the property of their respective owners. I claim nothing that is not my own.

Within the to some surprisingly decentralized hierarchy of the SIU, informal cliques of Directors helped decide policy. For the "Black Moon" clique it was their typical quarterly meeting. Each present on holographic projectors with suitably generic or otherwise false projections of the basic batarianoid form. What was notable about this was that the Black Moon clique were the ones initially responsible for the activation of Relay 317 now simply referred to as the "Special Zone". However, unlike many in their position they were not going to monopolize it solely for themselves. Well at least starting now they won't. Best have a starting advantage on everyone, just smart practice. If they did not share the new relay at all then they would have been swamped by the others looking to break in, now they could arrange other things with the fees they charged for gaining access. Sure, it took some head bashing in their own forces to not leak things, but as proud and patriotic Batarians they of course would not cut out everyone else in the Hegemony forever. They did have the Hegemon's share sent first of course. Had to respect the chain of command and patronage. Especially when you can use it to purge the elements that don't do that. Of course, no need to couch things in terms that might reflect back on you, no need to rely only on the fancy voice distortion tech after all. Good old-fashioned discipline is a hallmark of the SIU.

Director "Alpha" began the actual meeting first. "Pleasantries done with; I hope that everyone has received the latest report. We can begin Initiative Varren Eight now that the prerequisites have been fulfilled". None of them were crass enough to laugh but none of them held any illusion that this was not a satisfying result.

The next one to speak up was Director "Beta". "Good, has anything come up to change our initial timetables?".

"Not as has reached my ears Beta. Alpha, has your section uncovered anything?" Director "Charlie" asked.

"None of note. We may begin planning on the assumption that no major circumstances have shifted. It is time to remove some of the Moss that attempts to eat at the core of society, revitalize the "markets" with new talent and goods". Director "Alpha" spoke. Now with their properly deniable nod from the One up High they could get to work.

"Yes, the greed of the foolish will be easy to incite to overinvest. But we will need some stiffening of the middle management, beside the usual suspects of course for hiring" Alpha responded. Alpha was already thinking of the 'Deserters' and 'Rogue' elements that could be 'willingly' contributed by their rivals.


"We can prepare enough incentives for them to send some worthwhile enough dregs to do the footwork. Funds and appropriate assets can be taken and redistributed. Though, how goes our current efforts with getting more worthwhile collaborators? I heard we had to deal with a leak" asked Beta.

"Slow, our last attempt with "Banshee" failed. A rabid varren that one. For the insult we made sure to have her location leaked to her most fervent follower. She won't have time to make use of what she might have heard before it becomes useless" Charlie reported, hands sending the details over the secure line.

"Those new folks should serve well enough to remove the weaklings and fools wasting the air we breathe. If they can't cut it then they should not waste our time and credits" remarked Charlie.

"Hmm about these, "Newcomers". Are we prepared for deeper engagements with their periphery markets?" asked Beta.

"To some extent. We did some "interviews" with some of the older collaborators, our market analysts are finally proceeding at more than a crawl in their investigations. We are opening up new opportunities to invest in as we speak. We have already achieved basic functionality of many of the newly acquired freighters, though our crews still need more familiarity as they train with the "handover" staff. As for our newest acquisition, well we don't want to lose it due to some fool, so things are going slow there. As for the other cargo we acquired, that is more promising. Much more promising for short term gains". Alpha reported. His words making the others give off appreciative noises at that bit of good fortune.

"More "buyout" opportunities should arise as instability increases in their markets. Our informants are quite insistent and have enough of a spread of data to make that a likely to come true prediction" Charlie noted. Chaos is a ladder is a Batarian saying for a reason. The smart Batarian realizes that a ladder is not the only thing that can be used.

Alpha sent over the next secured packet to the others. "Our market research has also revealed some more of their cultural nuance, a few good levers exist if we are prepared to gain more localized market shares". Their newly acquired cruiser was not a modern vessel. But that meant it was more useful in some ways. Especially considering some of the fleet logs they had uncovered. It was a design comparable in niche to their own aging Hansa class. Which meant it was one with a storied history and more importantly a plentiful sensor log archive dating back decades in their acquired sample.

"Hmm yes. Rather hard to fake that sort of information. It is an older market we will have to compete with indeed" Beta acknowledged as they read through the report. Said report showed the scale that war was fought at by the humans. Insane, but nothing had so far proved that as mere propaganda. In some ways though that information was just numbers, little records that they couldn't truly understand deeply. But none of them were fools, they had to be prepared to act on it regardless.

"In the interest of preparing for the worst, what assets can we liquidate to buffer the potential losses in the future?" asked Charlie.

"A great deal possibly, if we can have the right eyes and ears finding good opportunities at foreclosure auctions" Beta replied. Several of their clique members were seeing if there were any historical battles to salvage hulls and tech from, others preparing to engage with black markets, finding breakaway pirates and mercenaries to hire, etc, etc.

Charlie snorted. "I would hate to waste some of our newest assets. But if it opens up worthwhile opportunities?" their outline shrugged.

Beta's holo cut out for a moment before they came back on. A priority message sent to the others. "Hmm, we might have to cut things short. Something came up. We are at a good enough stopping point anyway. Till the next meeting". The others cut out after giving their acknowledgement, the meeting's security measures working to scramble the trails they used. STG was not a weak service, but no need to give them an absence of evidence. That made the amphibians look harder, just had to make sure anything they got was different enough for the overthinking lot to reach convenient conclusions. All a day's work for SIU.

<><><>


Commodore Hannah Shepard was a former graduate of some of the finest naval academies that the Empire offered. She had fought tooth and nail against the patriarchal and classist establishment to advance only to be unable to break the glass ceiling. No patrons she would have stomached bowing for at least. Then there was the unpleasantness when there started to be hints of what she should do to get anywhere, well . . . She wanted to do more than command some random cutter on the ass end of nowhere for the rest of her career, yes, but not enough to sacrifice her dignity whether totally or in some halfway compromise. Sadly, she instead ended up commanding a flotilla of cutters on the ass end of nowhere instead for her sins. She had more gold braid on her shoulder but not much more to show for it. Still at least Fezzan's Border Patrol offered more in pay then what she would have gotten in the Imperial Navy. Though now, now was her opportunity. Somebody in the procurement chain must have felt more generous than usual as they were finally getting vessels heavier than an over glorified tugboat. Something with actual firepower. If only they weren't a boondoggle of their own. Looking out from her office in the massive orbital gantries of Fezzan, if she had her monocular then she could probably find her ship. Digging through her desk she fished out the thing.

Panzerschiffe, ships between cruisers and battleships with more guns of moderate power. Often discredited yet still popping up somewhere in the budget because it was a good way to get kickbacks. Well she certainly didn't intend to go against a battleship with it so it would do. At least it had the engine power to be nimbler than a battleship. The Normandy, that was the name given to the ship. Proudly painted in faux gold filigree font. Obviously from the shape the same design firm that made that ridiculous gunlock battleship had struck again. Yet to her eyes it was still the most glorious thing she had ever seen because it was hers now. Hers to command a five hundred strong fleet from. 4 additional Panzerschiffe, 45 cruisers, 150 destroyers, 300 cutters. Panning over the other parts of the gantry she could see the berthed vessels of her fleet. Pitiful compared to an Imperial fleet, but enough to put a pin to the piracy and anarchy that was threatening to put a hole in her robber baron overlord's pocketbooks.

Sitting back at her desk she pondered on the mobilization orders. The Landsherr, Adrian Rubinsky had given her command. The Black Fox apparently is not willing to tolerate this spike in merchant shipping attacks anymore. The issue for her personally was not having enough forces or budget to take care of things, it was the motive. This was an obviously organized and well led effort with the total absence of evidence for who was actually behind the attacks. But what was the goal? She could guess at some rough pattern from the reported disappearances, but not enough of one. Honestly if it was actually a serious effort by the Democrats to strangle commerce then it seemed like they were going to shoot themselves in the foot. Most of the "Legitimate" businessman taking losses were smugglers to FPA concerns, though it could be some "Enhanced" tax collecting from some greedy Imperial noble. It seemed like everyone everywhere was gearing up for something and she wasn't sure if all this piracy was something new or a precursor. The talking heads certainly never shut up about it. Quite a few suspects but none too obvious to be the culprits.

She spared a glance at her desk and the mini holoprojector on it, her daughter and son both on it. Her eldest an officer with Fezzan's Armored SWAT division while her son was doing service with the Imperial Navy. She was proud of them. Then her moment ended when a vid-link request came up on her terminal. Accepting it she saw a familiar face.

"Hey boss, can I take the ship out for a spin? I want to get a feel for it running before we get into any dust up. If I am going to put this baby through its paces, then we should do so soon". She held in a sigh, Jeff "Call me Joker" Moreau was a character that would never have made it in the Imperial Navy. The darker element of his condition she brushed aside; she didn't want to darken her day like that. Anyway, it was just as well that the young man was here. If one could accept his eccentricities, then they had one of the best pilots out there and he would only get better as he got more experience. She was thankful that the Panzerschiff was "speedy" enough for Joker to want to pilot over his usual incidents with a destroyer.

"No Joker, we can not take out government property for joyrides" she replied somewhat indulgently.

"Normally you say that boss ma'am, but we got an excu . . . I mean permission. We got permission. Apparently, the Imperial Naval Liaison has shown up and wants you here. Calls herself Lieutenant Commander Miranda Lawson and she wants a face-to-face talk on the ship. Figured if you're going to be going to the effort of getting on the ship we might as well take some of the ready crew here to go for a quick maiden voyage. Work out the kinks you hear, we got quite a few greenies after all".

Hannah felt tired but she could muster a response. "Very well Joker, I can catch a ride out. Give me an hour to prepare".

"Gotcha boss, sorry for the trouble". She nodded to his image before ending the call. Sighing she waved away the holo-terminal and let her room's lights dim. She could use a break for her eyes, work could begin again in 15 minutes. Even more politics had come to her.

 

[WyrmofFrost]

Disclaimer: LoGH, Mass Effect, and related franchises are the property of their respective owners. I claim nothing that is not my own.

"The orders are clear. Depart to the endangered sector and eliminate the suspected pirate threat. For the prosperity of Fezzan and the Empire" had been the words given in a short send off during the banquet that Commodore Hannah Shephard and the other officers of the Suppression fleet had been attending last night.

Just one more stone in the twisted game between the Empire and her new home of Fezzan. It had been spoken by the Imperial Palatine; the man technically meant to restrain the autonomy of Fezzan that was granted earlier in the Empire's history. Considering that it was a known if unspoken fact that the Landesherr's office actually financed the mansion and lifestyle of the Imperial Palatine there usually was not much stepping out. Still the familiar decadence of Imperial architecture had followed her the next day to her ship's bridge. Even a warship's command bridge wasn't much of a refuge from the gilded and elaborately decorated environment, but it still felt more restrained being filled with the sight of holographic screens and workstations. She was certainly itching to get out to actually start doing something other than be stuck as the Border Patrol's logistics division very slowly ground forward. A military Fezzan did not have, and it showed.

Shaking her head Hannah looked to her right as someone stepped into her peripheral. "Squadrons 1 through 3 report readiness to depart. Remaining Squadrons will be ready to depart in two minutes Commodore" came the voice of her 2IC.

"Understood Lieutenant Commander. Once readiness across the fleet is reported we can depart. Deployment pattern Beta-2" she replied. Lawson nodded and relayed those orders as Hannah kept looking forward, yet she made sure to keep the young woman in view.

Some might have been distracted by her XO's looks, being both young enough to be her daughter and also a still active Imperial Navy officer gave it a much different connotation. The presence of her appointed XO and Imperial Liaison Miranda Lawson showed that the Empire hadn't completely lost its presence in Fezzan. The recent militarization of the Border Guard being a prime opportunity for the Empire to wiggle back some more influence. Hah, playing political games against her old service rather than actually doing something useful. But it was hurry up and wait in the grandest of traditions, not even being a flag officer did anything to change that. So for lack of options she kept an eye on her rather shady XO.

Said Liaison had the looks of one whose family line had come about under the Inferior Gene's Exclusion Act. It was an uncomfortable thing, seeing someone's idea of a "More Perfect" human. Even during that era only the fringe sorts had resorted to that level of genetic tampering. The majority of non-noble families in the Empire could remember someone who had been "Lost" during that time. No amount of fancy dressing up or omissions could destroy the memories of those times. Her mind found it odd that whatever her genecrafted creepiness, the almost barely subtle feel of a spook was stronger. Rationally an intelligence agent would not be so easily picked out or be so conspicuous. But that was what her instincts told her. The black ink filled dossier did not help, nor did the obvious connections to others that had been casually dangled in the conversations they had had.

"The fleet is perhaps a tad, "uncoordinated" in its efforts" commented the young woman, trying to fill the silence perhaps. The rest of the bridge in fine Imperial tradition acted like furniture. Hannah nodded at those words rather than feel insulted regardless.

"Most in the Border Patrol are local citizens, not naval veterans. This is their first serious deployment as a fleet unit. And we were not exactly allocated time to drill. Keeping to schedule is honestly as good as we will be seeing most likely. A fine effort considering the circumstances" Hannah replied.

"Perhaps, but this talk of pirate raiders in the usually peaceful Fezzan Dominion bodes ill things for the future". Ominous words from someone likely empowered to report on said situation.

"Sad as it is to say, I don't think that the rest of the Empire will be happy about affairs. Peace be to his departed Imperial Highness of course" she added on to take the bite out of her words. No need for some trumped up lese-majeste charge.

"Another reason to take this posting isn't it? Service in the name of the Empire is its own reward, if a bit more distant then some would consider it" said the Liaison with a smile. As blithe as those words seemed, Hannah could not say it was not rational in some way. Nor did she miss the last part.

"You could say that, you could say that" she hedged. This was not the first time she had gotten leading words like that before, so far nothing had come of it but she was waiting for the shoe to drop.

Humming along the Liaison continued. "Well Commodore, having reviewed the latest update, how would you say our chances are?" she asked. A subtle hand engaging the white noise generator around the command dias they were on.

"You know very well that our resources are sparse. Fezzan does not know what it takes to burn out pirates. We have statistical information on the losses but that is nowhere near enough to narrow down where our foes are operating. They are just throwing a fleet at the problem and hoping for the best" Hannah decided to be blunt, she wasn't someone who could turn around some political stunt or wordplay. Best be honest and not be caught out in a lie.

"Surely it is a sign of how well regarded you are and that Fezzan is aware of the benefits that cooperation has" Miranda replied.

"Then your presence will be of great aid to the success of the mission. But we are getting close to launch, best be ready for it then" Hannah retorted before turning to the side, Miranda disengaged the noise generator at that abrupt end to the conversation.

Hannah could not say that the Lieutenant Commander was merely some political appointee as the two smoothly worked on the rest of the fleet's departure preparation. Formations were set up and Fezzan Traffic Control browbeaten into shape. Soon enough from her flagship she watched the fleet begin steaming out of the Border Patrol's gantries to the uninhabited edge of the system before then warping out. It would take several hours of travel to get to their destination. Warp travel itself was short, the time needed to travel via sublight drives was the largest component of traveling anywhere. She had clocked out of her shift soon after the fleet was halfway through its acceleration burn, still well within friendly space and with plenty of paperwork even at the beginning to do. Also, as she had told her XO, gave her command experience in the hotseat for her own career. The likely spook not saying anything positive or negative in being let free reign without someone over her shoulder.

But sadly she was called out from her rest and it was not because of some incident the Liaison caused. No, that would have been the not simple to say but understandable option. No instead her comm started beeping the pattern of a priority call as she was keeping ahead of the paperwork. The particular tone from her Navy days said combat alert, the ship wide alarm ringing for the readiness to be raised confirmed it.

Picking it up she barked out a "Report" on the line. The little device showed the caller ID as the XO. "Commodore, emergency message from Headquarters. Fezzan is under attack and demands the return of the fleet. I have verified the codes ma'am. It is legitimate". Grinding her teeth together for a precious moment she barked out an acknowledgement before throwing herself out of her room. She power walked her way to the bridge, mind wildly thinking.

The thought of someone actually attacking Fezzan confused Hannah until her mind reached a point with the tactical situation, her feelings turning to dread instead. Fezzan, it held perhaps a quarter of the economic power of the entire Human Sphere. Perhaps someone was trying to be clever with the upcoming conflict. She considered the Republicans but dismissed the thought, they were having their own troubles last she heard. They did not have the leisure to force their way through the Imperial fortress on the Fezzan Corridor. It wasn't in the top 5 but it was still in the top 10 most powerful fortresses. Her thought turned to the pirates she was originally setting out to run down. Was this them?

That thought stayed with her when she arrived at the bridge. "Updates?!" she barked when the door had opened enough. Miranda smartly saluted as she turned.

"Commodore, Fezzan Orbital Command reports boarding assaults across the system. They originated in the civilian traffic and struck randomly across the merchant shipping, the orbital gantries, Fezzan Orbital Elevator itself, and just in are already on the surface of Fezzan itself" were the words spoken with just a hint of anger and derision. Hannah couldn't even blame her, this was not a good showing. But exploitation of affairs aside she looked to the tactical board.

"Everyone has received the order to turn around, yes?" she asked to see how much initiative Miranda had taken so far.

"Deceleration burns are ongoing, and I had a courier dispatched for the nearest Imperial Navy garrison. We are going to need Armored Marines to take back Fezzan". Miranda explained.

"Good, very good. If we are going to be facing battle, then our forces will need to be ready. Tactical bring up maps of the Fezzan system". As the holoscreen changed she started plotting entry points and likely enemy vectors around Fezzan's orbitals. This was not going to be easy.



<><>

Fezzan despite the ongoing economic downturn was still THE largest trade center in the Human Sphere with more daily traffic then either of the capital worlds of Odin or Heinessen. Only the mustering of entire Theater-scale fleets for grand battle can match the sheer quantity of moving ships at any one time. Fezzan thus had some of the most powerful stationary sensor nets and traffic control centers, yet it was still overwhelmed and heavily reliant on everyone playing nice with the designated traffic lanes. Low paychecks combined with your typical corruption and human error only made things worse. So, when an unexpected fleet of ships arrives but sticks to the transit lanes, traffic control focuses on the actual rule breakers over what may or may not be someone whose paperwork was simply delayed. After all that drunken tramp of a freighter was going to slow down a well-paying baron's entrance. Not helped by the fact that the newcomers were understanding of their late status but willing to pay a few "Expatiation" fees to the local patrols and paper pushers to graciously ignore the issues.

The near a hundred strong fleet was composed of a mix of your usual off brand tramp freighters and some more unusual sorts. Though the fact that they were not in the ship registry was less of a concern as long as the appropriate paperwork was filled out. This of course went everywhere from the mandated safety inspections to their insurance paperwork. As long as the newcomers crossed their t's and dotted their i's then the overworked bureaucrat who glanced at their invoices and declarations would not bother looking closer, a handout didn't hurt of course.

That opinion started changing though when enough time had passed for the fleet to reach the "middle" of the queue. The wolves shook loose their clothing just before the customs inspectors arrived. The oncoming sensor shuttles were destroyed by sudden weapons fire before the targeting turned indiscriminate. Hulls meant to take micrometeorite strikes were struck down by ingots of c-fractional metal. Boarding pods and shuttles disgorged themselves from behind hidden panels, missiles and GARDIAN arrays lanced out of now revealed gunports while the once undulating shoal of merchant ships exploded into surging chaos like an explosion hitting an ocean wave as the news of the attack spread up and down the once orderly traffic lanes. The vast majority of merchant crews simply did not know what to do or even worse knew but their neighbors did not. Some stayed still when they should have moved, others zigged when they should have zagged. Some died to direct weapons fire, most simply crashed into their fellows. The random shooting did its job in sparking havoc. All that activity swamped the sensor net into chaotic blurs as alongside it the chain of command was too busy screaming for answers that more unknown ships arrived unnoticed at various points in the system. More piranhas for a feeding frenzy.

As the entirety of the Fezzan Custom's forces from top to bottom fell apart from simple lack of any idea of what to do, several vessels of the scattering shole of merchant shipping docked across Fezzan's orbital gantries. Many not being particularly gentle as they dropped their magnetic clamps down and opened up their cargo doors to let out screaming pirates. Alien pirates as they were not gentle in rushing through the docks, blood ran on the ground and screams echoed across the passageways. Some pirate ships rather then go for the orbitals instead landed shuttles over the planet, sometimes even setting down in their entirety on the planetary surface to let out entire formations of soldiers gone pirating. That was when the reports of attacks and armed takeovers of various bits of landscape from logistics nodes to even commercial/industrial plants started flowing through the com channels. This was a raid out of the early days before the Empire was founded. When man fought simply for resources then a cause. Something evident as the attackers rushed to begin loading up their chosen goods onto their ships. Some took valuable processed minerals, industrial machinery, and luxury goods. Others favored more of the flesh, some grabbing Fezzani off the streets while others broke into factories and tech firms to grab engineers and researchers. An entire spectrum from professional snatch and grabs to indiscriminate massacres took place on Fezzan.

It seemed like the scum of the Terminus systems had chosen to join for this one massive raid turned impromptu orgy of larceny and violence. Everything from Lyesni to Asari to Krogan to a plethora of minor Terminus races were wreaking havoc on and around Fezzan. Something only being barely stemmed by rapid response police teams more used to riots and protests then people with guns. Here and there the ill funded Fezzan Planetary Militia started mobilizing only to find out that someone had replaced all their gear with cheap scrap. But resistance was growing regardless. No matter how many pirates landed, Fezzan was a planet of billions and all that military smuggling between the Empire and FPA meant plenty of "Used" goods were around for those that knew. Profits and legal law were not much use in the face of being invaded by aliens. For now though, Fezzan burned.

Yet just as the out of place Fezzani Suppression fleet raced back to try to save their home, other parties were responding. The first serious reports were being placed before Reinhard von Lohengramm by Commodore Oberstein. The report of both hostile Aliens and Fezzan in flames only momentarily stunning the would-be Ruler of the Empire. His mind then racing to see what taking the initiative would grant him, unity could be gained from this. It just had to be the right kind. Meanwhile, a certain Shipmaster was speeding closer and closer to Fezzan. His fleet of Mass Effect driven ships slow in comparison to warp travel, but he would arrive just at the right time. He had even brought along a few "friends" to help vouch for him in his coming efforts. Time to do what he did best, scapegoat others into admitting guilt for his own crimes as he reaped the benefits at both ends. Especially good when the One Most High, the Most August Diktat had given his faction leave to make a spectacle of this. For the benefit of the Hegemony of course. He loved it when a good plan came together.

 

[WyrmofFrost]

Disclaimer: LoGH, Mass Effect, and related franchises are the property of their respective owners. I claim nothing that is not my own.


Jane Shepard ducked behind a pillar to avoid the barrage aimed at her before taking her particle PDW and shooting back. The mix of her powered armor and the minimal recoil of an electron firearm let her stitch her fire across the entire enemy force. She was guarding a choke point in the form of a large fancy atrium with plenty of thankfully stout stone doohickies on the various elevation tiers to use as cover, that and the limited entrances on the ground level meant this was one of the best defensive points not held by the enemy. Her job being to cover the civies they had herded to shelter in said fancy hotel. There was only herself and another SWAT officer. Technically she had a few "auxiliaries" in the form of idiot hunters and faux military types with either outdated toys or sidearms. Sadly, her only competent backup was a bastard and one not in their armor thanks to being both off duty and moonlighting as rich folk security at the time so she was the only one on the sticky end of things. She damn wished that old fart Massani would get back from his "Fun Toy" search soon because any gun hand would be good to have right now. Well, any gun hand not liable to shoot her by complete accident. His favorite "Party Favors" only barely made up for it as she had been on the tail end of a two-hour long retreat when she ran into him.

Dammed aliens had hit the entire district with some sort of burrowing bombs, anyone not in suits had gotten sucked out into the void and died. Then they had sent in a cleanup crew. She was the only one that had made it of the ready five shift at the security precinct. Two hours of running through areas where people had either been killed or been dragged off to some unknown fate. Her armor certainly showed its journey, pitted and scarred from glancing hits of the enemy weapons or in the case of her left chest plate, some weird ass magic ball attack that had hit just enough to really dent that plate almost to the breaking point.

Still, she was the one who had made it, had climbed through quiet hallways stained with blood or blasted through small patrols with surprise and firepower to escape the hunting parties. The distress signal at the hotel being the only sign that resistance of some sort still continued. Feeling the fire slack, she took that as the sign that she could strike. These aliens had some weird overheating mechanic in their guns, and she had ruthlessly exploited it. Against a force of Imperial Marines or just the Alliance's outdated power armor she would have already been overrun at any point. As it was against these aliens, she was having a much more effective time putting them down and now keeping them out. She had long lost count of how many of these alien freak jobs there were and only the vaguest differences between them. She had piled up enough corpses trying to rush her current position to make them be reduced to only potshots, the suppression from the armed civies at least giving her that much. A round pinging off her armor made her lose those charitable thoughts.

"Hey dipshits! Whoever can't shoot better get their ass benched and gun rights removed, or I am going to go up there and put my boot up all your asses!!" she yelled into the right com channel. The fact that the volume of fire in general from up top fell meant someone was trying to follow through. Fucking civies. Thankfully the aliens weren't seemingly doing anything yet in response to the drop in suppression.

Taking a moment to review who she was fighting she considered what might be about to happen. This lot seemed more like some sort of army folk compared to the last lot of mixed irregulars. Those had taken one look at her and her having headcapped the first to step in to simply take a few potshots before eventually just leaving. The ones taking their place were not as well equipped or with any exotics, fucking magic blue ladies. Those seemed more like looters then actual combatants and left after a few of their buddies bought it. But now there were alot of disciplined types and they had brought up some heavy weapon teams. These aliens seemed like some sort of roach-bug people compared to the menagerie of light infantry from before. Twiggy and looking like a solid punch would make them explode, but they had some big guns. The fucking outdated kinetic machine gun would eventually chip her armor enough to kill her which was why she was hiding behind cover. The fuckers however were going to try to rush her in a big wave she knew or maybe just bring in something with even more punch. Better for her to look for other options. Letting them run out of ammo shooting at her was getting old.

Hearing some babbling on the channel she let the civie lookout know of, she took a peek out herself. Her SWAT model armor had a periscope attached to it and she used it to full effect, no need to lose her head to a lucky shot. The view was not encouraging. The fact of the day apparently was that the aliens had some sort of armor slab on treads to use to push her. One that had a crew served support weapon attached to it. 'Not great, not fucking great at all' she thought. Of course, then someone had to light everything on fire.

Thankfully said pyrotechnics came in the form of the old shitter Massani showing back up with a fucking big ass ramshackle launcher. He had the thing plopped down on the railing of a balcony and launching shit behind the lot of alien bastards. The pop of blue flame and really high-pitched screams showed that it was not a nice mix of things he had cooked up. "Hah Shepard look, that one is trying to put itself out!" came a brief bark from Massani's com code. Risking it she took a look herself. Said alien had apparently thrown themself into a small ornamental reflecting pool. That seemed to have simply made them explode and scald their friends with the now boiling water. That brought a smile to her face as she watched them be distracted for a moment. It said something that she found it a good thing that Massani had obviously sprung for the illegal chemical hazards.

She was also glad she couldn't actually smell anything as she popped out and sighted downrange. Her visor automatically filtered out the blinding fumes to leave her some easy targets to gun down. Her ammo cell however chose that moment to run out just as she finished spraying down half of the survivors that ran from the big flaming distraction. Being customs security, she didn't exactly have alot of ammo, that was her last one in fact. So with no more guns in reach she charged forward and grabbed one of the roach wannabes. She had the inane thought of the alien just not weighing much. Then she was instead swinging her new bat at another of its buddies, both fell apart into a splash of gore and limbs that splattered messily but it did the job. Putting her earlier thought into action she punched the next one in reach before kicking a fourth victim. Both of them going down with the crack of breaking exoskeletons and blue blood-flecked foaming mouths. A stomp of her armored foot on the lone survivor on the ground squished em out of this life. She watched the body twitch like an actual roach being smashed before it finally stilled. Shaking some of the muck off of her suit's sabaton she moved on. While there were no more alien shits in grabbing range, they would eventually get a good shot at her when the chem fumes dispersed.

Trying to find a weapon led her gaze to some big ass gun that one of the aliens had had a death grip on. Well, her suit let her wrench the thing loose. Her finger found the obvious trigger while the hanging belt of archaic solid bullets said that there was plenty of ammo. Thankfully the thing had some sort of winter-guardesque trigger so she could use it. Looking around the flaming barricade she found more of the alien shits milling around confused behind some makeshift cover. Well, she had a gun and she had targets. An easy problem to solve.

Her suit said whatever hell mix Massani had used was not going to do much to her armor so she grabbed the flaming metal slab with one hand and moved it just right. Whatever weird skittering noise the aliens spoke with grew louder as she moved the metallic mass. They would find out just what she was doing when she backed herself up before shoulder checking the metal forward. That surprise present sent she then braced her new gun on her and and let loose. She didn't need to take cover, not as she used bullets for that instead. Her periscope and SWAT strength AR display let her just rip her new toy downrange. The few that tried poking around cover to flank her were shown the error of their ways when she could swing her gun around faster then they could move. Unlike the last batch of aliens, the only ones that had some weird bullet only shield were the officer types. To boot she also had only a small amount of ammo for her gun so she simply blasted the cannon fodder near anything vaguely dangerous to her. That emptied out she unfolded her security baton. Time to finish the cleanup she thought before bounding forward at speed.

Being sized for a power armor the thing was more like a hollow tube of heavy metal that was the size of a sword. She blitzed past their shoddy cover and started smashing. Heads popped and shoulders pulped as she raised and dropped her baton as quickly as she could, constantly moving at a jog to keep heading towards new targets. Maybe the stims she got from Massani earlier were a little bit too much, oh well. She had plenty of acceptable targets to let her focused hyper aggression out on. Speaking of Massani she heard the bark of his old ass rifle that he always harped on about as his baby. Well, the ancient piece of scrap did plenty right now as he took out anyone trying to get a bead on her with something even vaguely a threat. The two made a decent team in simply massacring the still defiant aliens that had insisted on still being in front of the civie shelter.

Eventually either these aliens had had enough or maybe their freaky alien hivemind overlord decided they were losing too many for no gain because she ran out of targets in the immediate range of her gore soaked and slightly dented stick. She wasn't that out of it to want to charge out into a place where there were obviously more heavy weapons going to be pointed right at her. As she felt her heart pumping strongly as the big dose of combat stims in her blood probably began to run out she transitioned to a rush of dizziness coming over her. Leaning back on some big stone planter box to avoid falling over she let the crash flow through her before her suit's automatic med kit injected something to help out. When her mind came back, she saw Massani running around and looting the dead aliens with some "helpers" who were giving her a wide berth. He was busy putting on some big bulky boondoggle of a belt from an alien officer as she refocused on him.

"Glad you see you back amongst the living Red. Not sure if those alien bootheels are going to be back soon so help lug some of this gear back. We could use the firepower. Look at that MG, try to get some of those ammo drums for yourself". Massani, having said his piece, continued looking for anything vaguely helpful as she turned over the words in her head. It took her a second to decide that that was a good idea and she tried to retract her baton. Sadly, the amount of gore had clogged the thing, so she just chucked it vaguely back towards the hotel entrance. That done she found another MG and began looting the ammo off the bodies that were not completely wrecked. Massani was probably not wrong. Best be ready. Though the shudder that chose that moment to run through even the massive bulk of Fezzan's Orbital Elevator told her that the future was not looking good. Well she had ammo so she could meet it just fine.

 

[WyrmofFrost]

Disclaimer: LoGH, Mass Effect, and related franchises are the property of their respective owners. I claim nothing that is not my own.

Lieutenant Vevia was Illium born and bred, born of Eclipse aligned parents and joining the group early in her maidenhood. She had offed some minor functionary in his own office without blabbing about it so she had gotten the nod. A few good early missions with the right patrons and she had shown enough potential for her to rise up the ranks pretty quickly. Pretty good for someone who had a krogan as her other parent, that was not exactly looked well upon in polite society. Probably a part of why she decided to go to the group that her parents had joined even if they died while doing so. Well one long ass journey and here she was, hired on a raid, the biggest she had ever gone on and in command of her own platoon in a scratch company. It had gone well at first, the navy bitches having gotten her force groundside without taking any losses so that they could start grabbing anything or anyone valuable. A few important looking sorts dug out of some researchy looking place along with their fancy server banks probably counted as her company had been dedicated to getting them out with some vehicles. Mop-head was what someone had called the aliens and it stuck, looking like weird asari with some sort of fur instead of head-tentacles that any self-respecting Asari was born with.

Well, the mop-heads certainly hadn't expected any of this to happen. They had hit the planet and its surroundings hard, like a thresher maw through some unsuspecting prey. Plowed right through the defending naval forces and landed troops with only minor resistance. She had been joking with her platoon members about the easy paycheck. Not exactly something her immediate superior had bothered to stop, feeling the same even without saying it. Said superior was the company's captain, one Kirn Seld. The scarred Salarian a decade long veteran of Eclipse. Eclipse's hierarchy could be funny from an Asari point of view with how quickly in and out the salarians. Why was she thinking about that? Because her captain just bought it because of a fucking crossbow bolt.

She felt the blood splatter on her face cool even as the body hadn't finished convulsing, the Salarian's death was not quick at all. Hands wrapped tight around the bolt stuck in his body but the thing must have been barbed or something because it was not coming out. No, the Salarian had just made his death an agonizing one from his panicked efforts thanks to the medic having gotten killed earlier. It was weird to think in a battle of mass accelerators and lasers that a crossbow was there. Well guess what?! These fucking aliens had them. They also had big stompy suits of armor that could casually backhand someone's ribcage into the afterlife to boot or impale them with some big meld-off sword. That would be the corpse stuck on the other side of the grounded APC she was hiding behind for cover. She eyed the one that had killed the captain, their weird script spelling out a "Taylor J." on their suit of armor. She disliked that one but wasn't going to be egoistic enough to do something like declare a vendetta on it. She was in position to benefit and going after one random shit was usually not worth it.

She was more concerned with how the fucking armored things would only go down to heavy accelerator fire. She didn't even bother trying to use her SMG on the thing, its plating could take enough shots to let it find cover while she couldn't say the same. Hiding in cover she instinctively looked to the side only to remember what had happened to the captain. Shit, who was in charge. The answer prowled into her mind like a vicious varren that only refrained from pouncing because it was full. She was the Captain now, she had to take command else everyone would not make it out of here. A stray thought glided through her mind, "But that is so much paperwork". Knocking her head against the piece of cover got her back together.

She needed to do something, or she would be checking into some unmarked mass grave shortly. A breath, a second, then calm. So now that she had accepted that she was in charge she could do something more productive. Such as ordering the other vehicles in the convoy to do something useful. She would not have gotten to where she was without being able to get herself back together after a shock, if she couldn't then she would already be long dead.

"This is Lieutenant Vevia, Captain just bought it so I'm in charge. I want the heavy guns focused on those fucking mop-head's big friends. I want those fucking juice cans opened up and leaking red!" having screamed that into the com net she decided to do something with the gun still clenched in her hand. Instead of trying to add her fire against the barricade that the mop-heads had manned she sprayed and prayed at some window she had seen shots come out of. Can't hide a fucking mechasuit in one of those spaces! Something she could actually kill! The spurt of blood on her lowlight visor mode told her that she had gotten one at least. The building starting to burn as her Incen mod made itself known was a bonus. Feeling better for having done a spot of killing and burning she started sparing more thought to something beyond the next five seconds.

Such as of course what to do when her gun's overheat alarm went off. Ducking behind the APC's armor again she considered her options. Couldn't really use any biotics directly, the dammed mop-heads had gotten smart after the first few had gotten turned to pulp. Her bitches kept getting themselves killed because no one had gotten cowed by that move anymore apparently! Turning a look over her squad she saw that she had lost only one more member in this latest firefight. That soul having taken a fucking laser bolt to the head. Those things did nasty things for headshots to say the least. Pretty sure all that was left was chunky stew in there judging by the leaking pool near their body. Tearing her gaze back she started highlighting spots with her fancy HUD. "Alright you quad-less pyjacks! There and there, get me a fucking crossfire of those lot. Get ready to blast them! You I want tech support on them, get them out of cover. You, you sorry excuse for a maiden. Once their out of cover, Lift them! You want to live then KILLL!" she screamed into the comms again.

She watched the sequence unveil exactly as she ordered. The handful of raggedy mop-heads dead and leaking red on the road. None of them obvious soldiers, just raggedy locals armed with a stupid amount of obviously military equipment. That at least left her a way out as the armored pyjak had run for it rather than get ventilated. "Okay you shits! Way is clear! Grab on, we are leaving!". Putting her words to action she grabbed onto the transport handlebar of their APC as the thing started diverting power from shields to movement. She watched as anyone left behind as the vehicles started bursting their way out of the ambush site were left as bleeding corpses on the ground. The vengeful natives sending a few poorly aimed shots at them as the convoy sped away.

As they made it further and further away, she let herself breathe a sigh of release before sharpening back up. She had to get them out of here if she wanted to relax at all. Opening up her connection to the net she thanked whatever smartass programmed the thing to automatically let folks bump themselves up the ranks if their superior's vitals had flatlined. She used her new credentials to check the position of local forces. Eyes scanning the information she had a rough plan. "Alright folks, according to the net we have friendlies ahead of us. Putting a marker down, get us there and we can reorganize. Stay sharp, if you want to get there alive you better not get ambushed you prefab trailer trash!". She tried not to think about how many were obviously left behind as the vehicles sped to their destination, a place they arrived at all too soon.

The rally point was some repurposed shopping center, the many little shop spaces and wide expansive spaces filled with glowing signs obvious to tell. While some spots looked like they were pilfered, the major focus was on the triage space. She walked past what passed for med care amongst the many different bands, from professional setups staffed by veterans to simply spots where they dumped the not quite dead to pass. Each little group not really bothered to coordinate; it was not encouraging as she had to pass through the space to find her next superior. She had gotten everyone out of that scrap, now she had to figure out a way to both get out alive AND fulfill her objective. The first not something that could be done without doing the second. Not with the way Eclipse worked.

Thankfully the Senior Captain was some turian ex-mil type. A bit rare in Eclipse but useful since she didn't need to bother with any of the games that a Salarian or Asari would have done. She got handed a brief and told to do her new job. All with nary a word spoken. Simple, she even got to unload some of the now useless meat that were her wounded and get some refills. Nice to have more bodies and metal back in her force. Certainly, feeling much more balanced from the earlier scrap she looked through her new orders. Nodding at the contents she headed back to her troops. Opening up the new configured net she started speaking. "Right folks, no rest for the wicked and we certainly aren't some Hanar preachy shit. So, get in line pyjacks, we got shit to do". Seeing that the new squad leads were on the line she started speaking again.

"Right, we need to go here if we want to have the nearest space that can accept the shuttles we need to get out of here. Its near a low priority zone due to not having anything valuable or any notable resistance. Probably still occupied but that just means we won't get shelled or something. So don't break too many things when we get in. If you can get some warm bodies alive and not leaking, then that works too. Remember, we need to get out of here intact so don't bother with any funny business, anyone caught messing around gets a bullet in the head from me. Is that understood?!". The replies were enough for her to move on. The trip filled with frantic last-minute prep since just chucking more warm bodies in was asking for stupid things to happen despite her welcoming more meat between her and the enemy.

She looked upon the expansive grounds of the place she was told to take over. At first, she thought it was some rich person's estate as despite being within the city limits, it had none of the towering buildings of its surroundings nor the steel and glass look of those structures. Instead, it was some widespread area with alot of green space, the buildings all relatively low and made up of some strange red blocks. It didn't even really have good security, just some decorative metal fencing and some sort of bar across the gate that did not stop their APCs from simply plowing aside. Nobody in the tiny booth near it to presumably protest the invasion. Hoping that that level of resistance continued but not feeling confident, Brevet-Captain Vevia simply hoped that speed would be enough to stop any big groups from closing in on them. The loss of ever larger groups to the stiffening mop-head resistance told a story on the battlenet.

The convoy eventually stopped at some big open field on the grounds, some sort of muster field? Well, they set up a perimeter and tried to make do in that open position. Some had questioned them not holing up in some buildings, but she had argued about the problem of needing to move and keep the area clear anyway if they wanted to extract. Well, they had some mecs and portable cover barricades to set up so they had some defenses to use. Still the important part was the terrain, and she was waiting on her scouts to get back to her about anything important.

The first sign of that being a bunch of folks with hands held high as her troops prodded them along with guns to their back. "Hey, boss this lot came crawling out to yell at us. Don't know what they were saying but they shut up right quick after a bit of 'persuasion'. They look like good enough shields?". She swept an eye over them, none of them looked particularly military like. Dressed in some sort of garb that seemed like only someone of modestly wealthy means could have. But none of them seemed important themselves. Good enough.

"Exactly what I called for Sergeant, good work. Now back on the perimeter, you lot help our new friends be nice and well situated. Over there works" the directed team obligingly dragged the fresh bodies to a few spots to make it less likely for anyone to target their vehicles. They would need the firepower and the goods in them to get out of this intact. Seeing things improve further she kept a close eye on the little marker that denoted their ride coming down from orbit. Then someone spoke up on the net.

"This is Recon 4, got some sort of obstacle course to the south, though the rest of the place looks more like some sort of sports fields and garden shit. Decent visual cover but nothing hardened. Returning to rally point" she accepted that report before another flowed in just as she finished.

"Recon 7, investigating the central complex. Big buildings here, expensive too. Not exactly a place that screams business or residential. Unless whoever it is likes having lots of rooms with wood desks and fancy bits in them. Plenty of flags and shit too, no resistance so far" she wondered briefly what that could mean before throwing it out. She wasn't being paid to sightsee.

"No movement or life signs in general by Recon 3. Returning" was another taciturn report.

The brief glimmer of hope that nothing else would happen ended however when she found herself diving to the ground before her conscious mind released why. When she did however someone was already screaming, "SNIPER, DOWN NOW!!".

Someone apparently actually saw where the shot came from as she saw shots going towards the nearest building to them. Then one of the APCs joined in on the fun with their autocannon. A few shots and the place was filled with holes while she heard cared bleating from the "guests".

"Think we got em?" someone spoke out loud. That seemed as good a signal as any for her to get back control of the situation. Standing back up straight she spoke into her com, careful to not out herself as important to any other sniper.

"I don't know if that little pyjack is dead or not. You feeling curious? Well too bad. Your team gets to go check. If it is obviously too hot then let us know and get back here" she ordered. If anyone had tried back sassing her then there would have been problems. As it was the team in question trudged along without any audible backchat. They spoke up a few minutes later.

"This is team Chet. Just some dam kid, dead now. Must have managed to pick up up a gun from somewhere. Fancy thing, we are bringing it along with us" she nodded at that report. A minor threat and the fancy gun in question was soon enough brought before her.

"Team 7, found some sort of vault door. Alot of footsteps and stuff just tossed on the way to it. Sealed now and no way to get in from the look of things. Returning now after leaving a few "Presents" here" came in as she turned the gun around in her arms, careful of the obvious barrel. It was primitive looking, like some pre-space flight armament for all the fact that it shot lasers. Wood furniture, fancy crests, and gold filigree if her eyes didn't lie. Not something made for the common soldier.

Her investigation ended when she heard the sounds of a struggle and then a cry of pain. "Stop struggling you barefaced piece of rubbish!" came from one of her soldiers. A glance showed that the "guests" had had some sort of reaction to the gun in her hand.

"Huh, must have been someone important. Well whatever, free trophy for the unit. Might get some nice creds for it or some fancy drinks" she declared to some muted cheers before she decided a bit more grandstanding could be risked. Walking in front of the group of sentients on their knees she brandished the thing. "Look at it and weep mop-heads!" she yelled to some accompanying jeers from the rest of the unit. Their expressions are close enough to Asari to show the obvious fear and rage they had. Some even had strangely glistening eyes, some strange part of their biology? Her thought was interrupted by one of the squad leaders coming near her.

"Should we shoot one of the hostages boss? You know, retaliation?" they asked.

She thought it over for a second before making her decision. "Nah, if it is just some random kid then there is no point. Do you want to have to go out and grab more on your lonesome if we lose them all?" she replied sarcastically.

"NO BOSS" came the reply and she simply flicked her hand in a dismissal. "That's right, then get over there and watch your sector. I don't need more smart alecky ideas that don't work".

But as if things were not going to slow down some else chose that moment to speak up. "Boss, we got movement on the perimeter!". That was the engineer with the cam drones, something she paid instant attention to.

"You little shit! Stop moving", she tuned out the noise from the shields as she brought up the drone view for herself on the portable display projector. Damm she thought, definitely some of the local militia trying to reinforce. Their uniforms and guns showing that it wasn't just some armed civies making a move.

The sound of the struggle near them intensifying stole her attention away for a minute. "I said KEEP THOSE BASTARDS IN LINE! Get me numbers dammit!" she yelled first at the perimeter crew before turning back to the engineer.

"More than a dozen foot mobiles boss, light infantry. Looks like a mix of weapons. Think they came out of the nearby buildings. No vehicles so far" was the report.

"Huh, must have been the locals running out of whatever holes they were in. This lot must have been really important" commented one of the troops restraining the shields as he glanced at the projection for a second. She hummed at that thought before something else came up.

"Boss, movement from the other side! Sensors got taken out but I count an additional ten plus foot mobiles! Heavy equipment too from the remaining readings!". Brevet-Captain Vevia bit off a curse, that could be any manner of bad things coming for them. Looking at her tactical feed she correlated the two reports.

"Pincer maneuver huh, well shit. They must have something if they think they are hard enough to take out our vics" or desperate her mind supplied. Which could be worse in some ways. The other boot however shortly answered her in the next installment of the shit piling onto her.

"Shit, gunship. GUNSHIP. DUCK AND COVER! Whoever has the ordnance BLAST IT!" yelled out one of the SLs. Her training made her pull up the strongest biotic barrier she could, any decent cover already occupied or too far away.

The world devolved to a tiny gray box as explosions roared and shrapnel began to rapidly drain her defense. But as soon as it came it went away only to be joined by the now familiar twang of a crossbow. The bolt took out the last of her shields but stopped in the pauldron of her armor. Vevia felt weak, drained from the temporary loss of her biotic reserves and the concussive force of the bolt that knocked her hard to the ground. She weakly crawled behind the projector for some sort of cover as shots were exchanged above her. Hands fumbling, she removed the pauldron to leave her possibly shattered shoulder bare except for the undersuit she wore. That done she could finally return her attention to what else was happening.

Chaos, simply chaos. It seemed as if everyone had chosen at once to arrive. From the extract to the mop-head gunship and group force. Said gunship seemed to be waving off, her eyes realizing that it wasn't actually a military craft from the colors even with the heavy firepower it had. The extract shuttles had a few guns they used to make sure it left, the sight of them landing a balm to her now very weary mind. Though she noted somewhat dejectedly that that single attack run had been enough to mission kill her APCs even if they stayed intact. An important point as the jackass who had shot a crossbow bolt at her was still around. Just a few meters away from her in fact. It wasn't the one that killed the captain, but she was not going to show it less mercy. The thing had one of her soldiers, a particularly slender Salarian impaled on its blade as the other bashed another soldier to paste with its spent bow. Her blood boiled as she felt the specter of death shadowing her.

Still her trained mind could see a grand opportunity with both its hands occupied. She sucked up the little bit of biotic reserve she had regained and with an effort sent it in a pull. That unbalanced the large, armored freak, making it drop its burdens so it could balance itself. Still enough of a distraction for her to get her heavy hand cannon out and start blasting. Shot after shot rang out and she could feel her wrist shaking from the recoil as she tried not to lose her bead on the stupid thing's oversized head. The damn thing moved unnerving fast as it tried to regain its balance to crush her, gore-stained hand outraised towards her. The illegal ammo modded rounds finally dropped the bastard, the literal last shot before her pistol blared its alarm was finally the one to do the job. Just a measly meter away it finally collapsed, head burnt through by the high strength Incen rounds and the smell of burnt flesh reaching her.

Breathing hard from the rapid minute of exertion she collapsed with her back to the fallen projector. Raising her weary head, she saw that the mop-head ground forces were finally retreating, apparently having been content with pasting half of her troops in that brief minute of chaos while the squishies freed the hostages. Minus a few leaking red on the ground of course. Only a few almost perfunctory shots still lept out between her now depleted side and the two retreating mop-heads forces. Feeling just done with everything she ordered the survivors to grab anyone still breathing along with the cargo and book it. She wasn't staying here any second longer that was for sure! That paycheck was looking less nice by the second. Still as she looked over the skyline, she could appreciate how many fires were being set.

 

[WyrmofFrost]

Disclaimer: LoGH, Mass Effect, and related franchises are the property of their respective owners. I claim nothing that is not my own.

"Sir! Enemy ordnance inbound forward aspect! PD preparing to engage" came the report from the relevant bridge officer as a battle raged in the outer reaches of Fezzan's system. The, some would say, foolhardy captain of a tiny custom's cutter was leading a pack of his fellows to run about the enemy lines. Their current target being some damaged ships that had withdrawn after finishing off another pack of survivors. They would be avenged he had vowed, and it was one of the more realistic targets their little group could hit. One Wilhelm Wulf formerly of his Imperial Majesty's Navy would not be found wanting, he also wanted to survive to be as much of a pain in the ass as possible to the alien reavers. Spite could be like that.

Certainly, for much of his life he had let spite keep him putting one foot forward after another. He may have been invalidated out thanks to losing an arm against the wretched Republicans, but he would not step back from this fight! He eyed the impromptu cots strung around the already cramped bridge, even if the resistance effort was dragging into the second day, they had enough warm bodies to crew most stations 24/7. Though a covered sniff showed that life support was not appreciative of all the extra people they had pulled from wrecks. Why was he thinking of that in the middle of pitched combat? Well, it was not like he could do anything to affect the chance of interception, that was up to the helm and gunnery crews. He wasn't some fresh from their mother's tit officer, the time for motivational speeches and slogan spewing were long over. Now it was kill, dodge, and kill again if possible.

He watched the enemy missiles come closer before the array of electron lasers had lanced through the target, a rather pathetic puff of debris on the screen before he turned his attention back to the battle again. Their cutter had beside the point defense a single main electron beam cannon and a few secondary electron beam turrets. Pathetic to a proper naval vessel, but none of the aliens had defensive barriers capable of affecting their firepower so far. Not much better for themselves though the beefed-up anti-meteorite shields were good for occasionally knocking a light shell off course. At least these aliens were not some unstoppable juggernauts out of fiction, though he would buy a box of donuts for the intel pukes that would need to sort out the data in an AAR.

As they closed in, they hit the second defensive layer being put up, this case a bunch of fighters. Unlike their own though these seemed unable to deal damage to ships beyond component plinking, how unlike the close-range ship killers he knew of. Made them simple enough targets with not even the pretense of defensive shields to stop the light speed beams from inflicting ruinous losses. Something proved as he watched a string of internal detonations get set off, the things popping like popcorn really. He shook his head at that thought, rest could come later. He could not show weakness to the crew, their morale was fragile enough as it was. Seeing the board cleared of fighters he opened up the fleet connection.

"All elements, now that the chaff has been spent, proceed onto target. You know what to do" he declared through the com-net. After the comms clicked off his gaze went back to the tac screen, the computers automatically displaying his own group and the distance to their pursuers.

The enemy may be able to outmaneuver them but in a straight-line engagement they ran slow compared to the engines of a craft meant to overtake nearly anything. They had lost and gained chasers several dozen times already in their journey across the system. They had conducted hit and run lancing attacks as much as possible, it was a lesson learned in blood and shattered debris that any other move ended in death. Let an alien in close and they would pick you apart with ease, able to simply outpace your guns. A deadly game of cat and mouse in a graveyard. While the fucking aliens had established a close blockade of Fezzan's orbitals, the massive amount of traffic and interorbital facilities proved enough of a lure to have small groups break off. Coordination and discipline for them was obviously not good. But the Imperial navy veteran could also admit that it was the same for them. Few of Fezzan's Customs and Security forces were seasoned vets in any sort of combat. Even now the group gathered around him was only the few that he could harangue into following his orders, the rest of the proud Customs Service was flailing about or worse having run or never even showed up at all. The fight had certainly separated the chaff from the force he bitterly lamented as he watched the screen. Enough so that they wouldn't be surviving the aftermath of this anyway.

It was a hard thing to not let despair overfill any of them with the shattered hulks of hundreds of ships littered the system and millions lay trapped or dead in the cold of space. Those same hulks were what allowed his force to keeping fighting, their hulks good to hide amongst and set traps with. He grimly noted that most of those who could still be rescued were now in deeply buried shelters that could only ever hold a fraction of the total crews. The rest either died from collateral or worse, were taken. So many rigid forms floating in the void. Taking a deep breath Commander Wulf yet again refocused himself. Perhaps those old tablets from his serving days were expired. Well, he could die of complications later. Now all they could do was stem the bleeding as Fezzan itself could be seen growing darker with the smoke and ash of fires raging on its surface. Only the promise of blood and some sort of direction let them keep going. He had to keep on this attack run.

Watching his impromptu battlegroup signal their readiness he declared "Feur!", each of the wolfpack of cutters fired their singular main electron cannon at their chosen target. This case being an enemy cruiser equivalent, enough of the energetic packets intercepted for the ship to be cored through in multiple locations. That bit of now cooling hulk was soon left behind as the group again accelerated away as quickly as possible. This was certainly a victory simply by tonnage sunk, but that did not help the captain's own morale even as his bridge grew grimly smiled at the tally of blood they had. The constant back and forth for his little resisting group had claimed only a handful of ships total and the same across the system. They were barely distracting the dregs; he simply couldn't see what they could have done for Fezzan itself. His new home world continued to burn and he could only sooth his fearful mind that he was not being a coward as he was. Yet feared that it was only a matter of time till their number too was at last called. Thankfully for the Cutter captain though, reinforcements had arrived. It was with a subdued flash of light and EM energy that the new forces arrived on the edge of the system.

"This is Commodore Hannah Shepard in command of the 1st Pirate Suppression Fleet, we have arrived to deal with the alien menace. Rally points are being established at these locations, for those engaged, keep up the good fight. Help has come" those words were punctuated by the brilliant flash as packets of electrons were sent speeding into enemy ships, their accuracy guided by the still active sensor network of the Fezzan System. The military grade vessels capable of spearing enemies from light seconds away, a vast gulf that could not be easily answered by the disparate groups attacking Fezzan. Each having to on their own react to the sudden attack on them.

Captain Wulf turned to the rest of the bridge while opening up the fleet wide comm. He could get over his dislike of speeches this once. "Well, you all heard the lady. Set course for Rally Point Xen-4! We will punch our way to safety, onward! Do not throw your life away when reinforcements are just around the corner. You carry not just the crews of your ships but those of others who have been lost to the alien menace. Regroup, we will show these alien bastards that they were solely mistaken to attack the Empire!". The cheers that could be heard showed just how the spirits of the beleaguered forces were raised.

Acting as if one across the system the surviving Fezzan forces redoubled their efforts, finally having some sort of command structure to accept orders from had a tremendous effect as the listless forces were directed against actual targets they could effectively face. Safe zones that the terrified civilians could be directed towards greatly helped morale as the flagging sailors moved with a renewed vengeance. And that did not account for the freshly arrived troops themselves. Their hearts beat as one to finally pay back the enemy for the blood they had spilled, throats roaring across the fleet as they followed their orders and plunged forward.

In a horrifying moment stretched long for the once dominant alien assault force, the Fezzani fleet carved a path through the system like jagged glass shredding through flesh. Nothing slowing them down but their own inexperience in needing to not be separated from each other. Tendrils snagging packs of pirates and rendered them into scrap before continuing towards the scarred jewel of Fezzan. But respond eventually some did.

The inexperience of the Fezzani crews showing as one forward engaged formation broke apart as pirate forces ran rampant in the once tight and orderly group. An act that Hannah Shepard and her XO watched on sensors. "Like a hunting swarm of fish, they are tearing a pod of prey apart" she grimly noted. She couldn't risk firing a barrage less it strikes friendlies so could only rely on sending in smaller forces to aid the beleaguered formation. Cutter flotillas and her formation's meager fighter detachment joined in the CQC brawl. Meanwhile she had to ensure that they did not have more formations locked into such disadvantageous fights.

The remaining shoals of pirate forces were starting to gather together on the outer edge of their sensor range, but it wasn't in any truly neat formations. A situation Shepard hoped to take advantage of as she hurled her forces forward. The first massed volley was deadly, catching the chosen enemy formation between the guns of three different units. It was the enemy reaction rather than the kill count that interested the Commodore. "Evasive formations? No. This seems more like a rout. But only at the first volley? This must be some sort of trick. What sort of coordination does it take to do such a thing though if it is some sort of false retreat?" Shepard mused to her XO.

Commander Lawson nodded grimly, mind churning over the question before a thought struck her. "Pull up the visuals for the ships in each fleet, pipe that data to the XO's terminal".

"What do you see?" Shepard asked as Lawson brought up several images to compare. Space travel could be surprisingly slow, so they had a brief time to strategize in depth.

"Chaos, and I mean that literally. Each of these formations share minimal cohesion between themselves much less each other as a group. There are of course outliers in vessel composition and formation, but it appears each is doing their own thing" she replied as she checked some of the numbers being given by the computers. Shepard's mind turned to the one individual she knew that that description matched perfectly. A thought she forcibly boxed else she would be distracted; she was an officer and not a mother right now.

Mulling over Lawson's conclusion Shepard clicked her tongue. "No coordination in the first place to bemoan. Surely this can't be their way of war?".

Lawson shook her head. "You ascribe human motivations and positions to them. Humans are complex enough creatures ourselves, can we use ourselves to consider another much less possibly several if the variation is any idea?".

"You have no proof to back up your own thoughts or conclusions. Why bother with noting that in the first place?" Shepard asked the intelligence officer. Throwing out such an unsupported point did not seem in her vein.

"Just needed to make sure you were in an open state of mind. If we keep too hard to our own doctrine, then we might not succeed. I don't like the evasive potential of those ships, that seems to be a mostly universal trait as they are outpacing the ability of our ships to fire on target" a few clips already cleaned up by the staff section showed the different engagements unrolling on the front as well as what they could have passed on by the survivors. Images on the enemy equipment and demeanor being key.

"Nasty torpedoes too. But our forces are already as split as I would dare risk. We have no time to come up with something on that sort of scale. We can only trust in the little training we have established already" she noted to the XO. For motivational speeches it was a weak one, but still the truth. It helped to counter her being ill at ease with the growing fur ball on her screen where the tac computer showed ships exploding or otherwise going gray to represent being rendered combat ineffective. Too much information, too little time she cursed. The additional reinforcements seemed enough to extract that formation partially intact at least. The confirmed report of the death of its commander and his ship however doused any rising hope in Shepard's heart. This was war she tried to console herself even as she mournfully watched the diminished icon of that force withdraw into friendly lines. That would only be the first sacrifice she played out. Her orders, her responsibility, she could only keep going.

"Well, they have certainly taken losses amongst their lighter and more mobile units as well. Though additional enemy forces are enroute, multiple frigate groups are closing in rapidly on what appear to be some sort of attack run". Shepard nodded to the intel agent's words, whoever was in command did not want to let up the pressure on that formation, wearing them down perhaps through some game of attrition. There were still hundreds of invaders after all.

She watched as the next battleline was engaged, a staggered line of ships concentrating fire into selected points to disrupt the oncoming enemy forces. The two forward elements of each fleet bearing on each other. Each force 'Below' the rest of their deployed fleets, the Fezzani vanguard had been deployed there while the pirate forced had descended to meet their foe head on. They plunged into a wave of fire. The slagged wreckage of pirate ships became impromptu hazards for those following in their wake. Each one turned to burning scrap gave that bit more of blood to pour at the altars of their victims as penance. The Fezzani lines compacted slowly as they traded space for blood, 'falling' farther and farther from the Fezzan system's central plain. The firepower in that first volley was unmatched at any other point of time simply because they did not need to engage their primary shields against this foe. Still eventually the invading forces closed in, and the lines devolved from set piece combat to a hundred and one skirmishes. Spread out over several AU of distance below the system's orbital plane.

Krogan frigates rammed into Fezzani cutters while Batarian pirates unleashed boarding parties upon distracted foes. Asari fighter pilots dueled their counterparts while dozens of minor races unleashed their array of firepower at close quarters. A cacophony of war. One of its conductors soberly watched the situation develop. "Make sure our own forces know that taking evasive maneuvers is not illegal. I want to minimize losses; we will need all our strength for the coming hours ahead. Our strength is in our artillery and our ability to strike with decisive force from out of their range. Unshadow the fleet's gun ports, prepare for fire plan Einz". Activity exploded on the once calm ship as they moved from simply relaying information amongst fleet elements to acting themselves as well. Ships orienting themselves against their chosen target, there was certainly nothing to block the line of sight of the main Fezzani force from the bulk of the pirate forces.

"Do you think holding back the bulk of our heavy assets was the right call?" whispered her XO. Shepard shrugged. "War is a gamble. They believe they can defeat our forces while they are divided one at a time. They do not realize that none of them are out of the range of our cannons simply because our ships are sluggish compared to theirs" was her answer.

"And in the now? Can you remember more than just the coming battle ahead" Lawson pressed. Shepard looked at the tactical display as her own fleet element entered the 'Short' range bracket of her heavy guns. When it would take less than a second for the fleet's guns to impact their chosen target. Unlike the currently engaged forces her fleet had a far higher magnitude of firepower and the ability to deploy it at range. There had not been any properly deployed cruiser weight vessels in the Fezzan system, none at least that survived the opening blows. Her fleet held the bare minimum of escorts, composed mostly of regrouped survivors of the system. Worn, tired, but with morale raised high. Prepared to give their lives to protect the vengeful spear that prepared to strike. Enough firepower to scour a planet to the bedrock bared down on their foe. "I will live and serve by what I can do. If that simply means giving my life in the name of duty and honor, then it will be so. But if I can live for the cause then I will". The cynical gaze of Lawson seemed to ask, 'For whose cause'. It was not something the Commodore entertained aloud. When she next spoke, she had skipped the question it seemed.

"Deception and firepower. We don't know them, but they don't know us either. We use that to break them here and now with speed. All ships, you know what to do. Feur!". The order was obeyed as the other untouched elements of the Fezzani fleet blew away the bulk of the enemy's forces who were attempting to overwhelm one of the many brawls their vanguard had entered in. The massed volley decimated the massed enemy formation, its front row of ships perforated into blazing debris and throwing the entire force's cohesion into question. Sensors exploding simply from sheer energy overload as shots missed their intended targets and streaked through the entire pirate formation. Especially when the guns kept firing, and firing, and firing. Again, and again to add blood to the vengeance thirsty Fezzani fleet. Desperate for avenging comrades, desperate to save civilians, desperate to extract blood for the despoiling of Fezzan. Fezzan burned, but some of its people burned even brighter.

 

[WyrmofFrost]

Disclaimer: LoGH, Mass Effect, and related franchises are the property of their respective owners. I claim nothing that is not my own.

Blood froze in the void of space as the fate of Fezzan laid in the balance. Something clear to the Batarian Admiral Kraz Kek'tall as he transitioned into the system, his fleet arraying itself into formation around the central Discharge Ark. Formations taking turns to empty their static buildup, the fleet looking like a unfolding flower with attendant symbiotic insects as ships traveled in synchronized patterns. Here was apparently one of the major worlds of this new race, the "Humans". He flicked one of his eyes to the side and saw the apparent member of that race on his bridge. He did not like having such an 'individual' on his ship much less directly in his sight. Still the reason that such a thing could be tolerated was also present in view. His SIU "Liaison" looked implacably silent as they stood behind the Human. Said human being some lowly bridge officer "rescued" from some wreck the SIU officer apparently knew for them to rescue. Said wreck was also being towed away by a few of his ships even as the few survivors and corpses were brought onto his flagship. Others apparently found by previous scouting efforts were held on the SIU fleet contingent attached to his forces. The naval section of the External forces had always had a contentious relationship with the SIU and their naval focus, but an order from the Hegemon was absolute. He would of course play nice with the officers of the most diligent SIU. A few pointed remarks at his gambling debts helped stop the poking too, the SIU made for a mean loan shark.

"Scouts are reporting the latest fleet dispositions. Last known locations are on the display" the Admiral looked over at the colored holograms on display, characters denoting the info lag beside each holographic circle showcasing ship composition of the fleets clashing in the system. The tonnage of the fight was surprisingly small, especially compared to the marked-out graveyards of ships. He especially marveled at the scale of some of the mega-freighters, the humans certainly built big. Sad that most of it was turned into drifting hulks. Well sad for them, opportunity for profit for the Hegemony he thought.

"Hmm I think we should announce ourselves a bit before we open contact, show our credentials so to say" he lightly made that comment, one that the SIU officer blandly agreed with by a tilt of his head before holding up a data stick.

"We should have the very latest intel from our analysts shortly. A connection can be established". The Admiral knows that this is a tainted chalice but a mild one. Waving his hand one of the bridge crew takes the stick and connects it to the appropriate isolated console, a connection between the flagship and one of the SIU ships is established. New data starts feeding into the display and it shows the name and brief dossier of the major pirate bands and minor Terminus races detected. Many of them were busy being scrap or about to be scrap considering how the human fleet was doing. It seemed they had been reinforced at a few different points as he brought up on the public display long range shots of various craft from his scout's scopes. Turning to the side he heard excited gibberish that the translator failed to interpret, a pointed snort and glare seemed to instill some discipline in the rowdy soldier as they quieted.

"My apologies Admiral Sir, those ships are from the 1145th and 542nd fleets. They are some of the closest fleets that could have responded, that means other Imperial reinforcements are soon to be here in force". He didn't know human expressions well but going off of Asari customs this seemed to be of joy and hope. Though he saw the human's face dim as a few signatures from said fleets obviously shifted to show themselves as disabled or destroyed. A glorious counteroffensive or not, they were not emerging unscathed. But a decisive victory soon to pass by most standards, especially considering the scale of forces involved. His gaze turned to the remaining active signatures; the main clash left plenty of stragglers in the system along with smart ones who had refrained from joining. Sadly, for them, he had arrived just after capturing their waypoint Discharge Arks. Trapped here to be rendered scrap or to wither away from heat or hunger in the vacuum of the void as their ships tried to reach safety, oh he found that a good image to hold.

"Hmm, yes this is most useful. Most useful indeed" he let out, best to acknowledge some credit for the source of the wellspring of bounty that was soon to be. Additionally, the information that was shown on the bridge holotable did not include the overlay his eye piece was placing on the map. Said overlay showcasing what information they had on the human force disposition along with some "Secondary" objectives that the SIU wished to fulfill. Best not ignore them completely, the promised rewards shown for each objective certainly fit his greedy mood. Comparing force strengths and compositions he made his choices. Some more blood spilled always was a good thing when it was not your own. Especially here where it would be quite hard for the pirate fools to run silent in their escape if they had beacons on their ships blaring out their location to the right parties.

"Designate target formations Algar through Vedak, we will emerge in the system's western approach and proceed to target formation Algar before proceeding from there. Each formation will be engaged one at a time. I want volleys of artillery at long range before beginning an advance with our heavy elements. Light elements screen and probe any openings while snub fighters will concentrate on CAP duties. Forces are not to slow down; any hostile stragglers will see the rear guard detach forces to eliminate" ordered the Admiral. This would be one of the rare times that a fleet could fight in massed formations. Certainly, the scale harkened back to the old Rachni and Krogan wars. As many doubts as he had safely hidden in his brain, he could certainly do with the prestige of having commanded such a major action. Especially since it could be called "Noble"! If a few fleet elements embedded with SIU assets had orders preplanned, then that was simple prudence and thoughtful foresight.

The fleet disposition ready, he turned to another matter. "Lieutenant Kronz, can you speak with the local forces?" the Admiral asked into his omnitool's crude translation function. It seemed the lowly human understood since they replied in the affirmative to his request.

Watching the massive graveyard of ships seemingly only matched by the scrapyards of Korlus, the Admiral could certainly appreciate the sheer size of everything as a showcase of Humanity's ability. Ability without wisdom and worth however accounted for little as the many drifting mausoleums showed. Much as taking such prizes for the Hegemony would bring great dividends, they were supposed to be friendly with their new prospective native. Then they could fleece the newcomers of their goods and wealth simply using words.

He watched as the range indicators on his formations fluctuated, the VI taking into account general target lock readiness across the fleets for this beginning of the skirmish. He did not need to order the first shot fired as the instant targeting locks reached full the ships in range fired. Simulated holographic bullets streaked into the distance on the large screen shaped like windows on his bridge, the archaic seeming displays adding a sense of majesty to the battle that bland UIs like the Salarians or Turians used did not. He took pride in his fleet as the fleet's seemingly useless skill in formation flying came in handy, the pirate scum kept at bay by the disciplined waves of ships unleashing fire first head on before pulling upwards and twisting to present their sides with an agility like that of a much smaller craft, their broadside armaments singing for a brief moment as an accompaniment to the big guns. The maneuvers maintained a minimal distance between craft to prevent boarding while not slowing the ships down as they kept going onto the next enemy formation, leaving broken wreckage in their wake.

A glance at the human seemed to show that they were in awe. They were not anywhere near an equal, but adulation from one's lessers still had some value in it. "Well now Lieutenant, I hope you can get that message done right, we are closing the gap to your friends quickly and I feel that we do not need to waste valuable resources and lives fighting when there are plenty of pirate scum to send to the vacuum?" the Admiral remarked.

"Yes, yes of course" the human managed to reply as they stared at the screen, taking in the sights as well as keeping deep focus on the indicator for when contact could be had. The Admiral simply hoped that the jury-rigged com console they had pulled as an eyesore on his bridge would do, the security codes for transmissions not exactly transferable according to those involved in the work. He didn't understand but it seemed to be working as the human's excited babbling indicated. When they muttered something, he took to indicate that the line was active he started speaking.

"This is Admiral Kraz Kek'tall leading elements of the Batarian Hegemony 1st Fleet on anti-piracy and peacekeeping duty. We have heard of your plight; we are here to assist you people of Fezzan. Let us show the pirate filth that the days that they could act with impunity in the face of their betters is over". Signaling for the recorder to end he looked to the human who pulled some strange gesture with one of his fingers that seemed to be positive in nature.

Feeling a faint reverberation in the deck plates he noted that his flagships guns had just fired. Looking at the surviving rabble he felt disdain that they would be getting such worthless kills added to the ship's glorious records. Still the sheer novelty should raise their value up some. A different set of shakes showed that the broadside guns had just unleashed their own volley, something that let him know the progress of the spear they were thrusting into the pirate scum. Good, good he could only think. No more loose ends as they left the wreckage of pirate scum drifting for the SIU forces to send boarding parties to "Liquidate" any surviving evidence. If some of the nearby human wrecks were also searched, then that was simply a fee for doing business here in helping the humans.

"Are rear line preparations ready" he said as a question to the Liaison. They twitched their eyes in a gesture of acknowledgement and affirmation, a gesture the human did not catch as they kept babbling messages to be sent to the other humans. Nothing bad at all if his translator was right. Judging by the behavior of the different picket units watching his formations that seemed to be working. Good, after the cleanup was well underway there would be some "Negotiations" that would doubtlessly bring more good fortune to himself and the Batarian people of course for this moment of support in their time of need.

"Hmm, I wonder what sort of meeting gift I should give. Something to show the well regard we have for them and the common welfare for the future" he asked offhandedly to the SIU officer, not expecting an answer to that self-incriminating question.

"There is still the enemy forces that landed or are within various boarded enemy vessels" the Officer pointed out blandly. Rolling his eye in a gesture of exasperation the Admiral retorted. "Yes, the course I plotted will have us sweep through the majority of those holdouts in the outer reaches of the system, but I think we can leave those near the planet to the humans. There are only so many rabid varren nests I want to stick my hand into no matter how many soldiers I am willing to sacrifice for that. Let us give our glorious human friends the right to that bounty, though . . ." he trailed off tellingly.

"We will be dispatching a few, advisors and attaches, if possible, of course". That "suggestion" given the Admiral turned to the somewhat anxious human, the lowly being having been anxious without a way to understand their conversation. "We are continuing a sweep of these vagabonds but would request that we send some advisors to help your people in their task of clearing out the vermin infesting your planet. No need to waste lives if a few timely words can help avoid that fate".

"Yes, yes of course sir. Let me send a message to that effect" the human replied and busied themselves with the console. A brief glance to the SIU officer received a grave nod of approval, satisfied at that possible misstep being solved the Admiral instead went back to pondering on the likely wealth he would be receiving from his performance. Enough to be out of debt, that would be nice. Very nice indeed.

 

[WyrmofFrost]

Disclaimer: LoGH, Mass Effect, and related franchises are the property of their respective owners. I claim nothing that is not my own.

"Forward! Are you strong children of the Empire or the craven scions of Heinnesen! Do I need to show you how to wipe your mother's milk from your slack toothed jaws! Show these alien scum what it means to tangle with the Imperial Marines" those words were yelled out before one Lieutenant Ka'hairal Balak watched the hulking human soldiers crash their way through several holes in the wall that they had made. Whatever undoubtedly inspiring battle cry that was took a back seat in his mind to the massive two-handed axes he watched pass by. Each taller than even the bulk of a hulking Enforcer, which made them very intimidating to the rank and file of his troops. But while those ax wielders went first, they were followed directly behind by soldiers bearing some sort of rapid firing laser weapon. Advanced and primitive, odd but apparently effective. Still only after a sufficient number of bullet sponges went first did he signal for his own forces to advance. He had a brief moment of calm before he too had to join the chaos.

He and the platoon under him had been "Voluntold" to augment the human forces. Him and a few other detachments from the fleet, he did not think he was going to be deployed like this. Only a week ago they had been on parade through the core territories and then they were flung into this conflict. Most of them still had their armor attached with ceremonial colors! Now here they were fighting alongside a new race, the apparent idea being that they would show the humans what for. So far it had mostly consisted of him making shooting gestures at anyone who was recognizable a biotic user or had a heavy weapon. Apparently, the humans were used to their heavy weapons looking more "Intimidating" if the laugh from their leader was what he thought it was. He would have been more insulted if said human didn't have some abomination of a four barreled blaster of some sort, one even now being used in the breach. Superheated bits of flesh exploding everywhere joined by the blood splatter of an ax chopping into a body or the more familiar impact of a ME-grain into its chosen target. He did not think his troops were winning the kill count competition. That made one not so willing to argue the point of the crazy humans.

The firefight for that room ended after a few more futile moments for the defenders, some merc band from the look of it with the variety of colors and weapons. Then the humans started trundling forward, razor focused on their goals. The reason for their boarding of this ship, human slaves. Ironically for Balak his forces were also here to free them, while he had not personally ever put a shock collar on anyone during a "Punitive Patrol", he had a few who had and could figure out how to uncollar someone. He watched the sniveling figures cry and cheer or simply fall down emotionally as the collars dropped one by one. A strange scene to see one of his soldiers be hugged by a freed slave. One that would have meant the dignity of the External forces would have been tested if their visors weren't opaque. Still orders were orders and the scary SIU officer had been strict in managing their "image".

His thoughts had to take a back seat as the humans started moving again. The initial sign that they were not the first unit to have been here were the bodies impaled to the walls with metal spikes, he had seen some of the humans equipped with such barbaric weapons. They had not bothered finishing off some of those who had not died on impact, a fitting bit of intimidation if any of the mercenary scum had found the aftermath. As it was, he listened to one or another of his softer troops put a bullet in the brain of the victims. He thought he caught a movement or two from the humans, but he didn't know what it was, berating his troops as well perhaps?

"Weak" muttered someone in his squad only for someone else to retort "Nah, look they are looting the omni tools for later". Snorting at the banter he held his fist in the air and his troops fell back in line after a few final quick grabs. The humans were moving quickly, and he did not want to be left behind in the fighting. That would be worse than losing soldiers. He heard some sort of commotion ahead which had him turning to his forces. If something could cause the humans trouble- No he had to keep up his image, loss of face meant loss of authority and breakdown of cohesion.

"Forward, keep going forward!" Balak barked out with more strength than he really felt. His troops snapping to attention thanks to ingrained training, and they ran the length of the hallway at a combat jog before emerging into a room filled with various cargo related machinery. He spotted some scattered bodies of armored and unarmored humans, some part of the contingent he was with and older bodies too, before some instinct had him sliding into cover. Not a moment too soon as a bullet zipped past where he had just been. If Balak's heart wasn't already pumping from exertion, then it did so now.

"Cloak!" screamed out one of his soldiers who had apparently pinned down where the shot came from. The humans just behind started to unleash a barrage into the general direction of where Balak had pointed before suddenly an Asari enveloped in tech armor leaped into the center of the group with some sort of biotic haze enveloping those around them. Before one of the humans could bring down an axe to bisect the Asari a Warp attack flew from the side. Balak's eyes caught the rapidly disintegrating cloak of the apparent Asari infiltrator as they unleashed that attack. A tilt of their teeth painted helmet seemingly mocking in that moment as Balak watched the Throw fly. The resulting blast from the biotic explosion hurled that team of humans like ragdolls even in their armor. Though where the humans were confused by the universe's laws of gravity seemingly being twisted like putty, his troops reacted more aggressively. A hail of fire, explosives, and a few tech powers were sent blazing downrange, trying to bring down the ambusher in their midst only for them to manage to duck behind some heavy cover. The few shots or glancing effect of explosions not doing anything serious through their tech armor. Quickly realizing the situation Balak fell back to the surviving human officer, the one with the big gun.

"Cloaker, invisible enemy in the back! One in front has heavy armor and is fast.
One in front spits out fuel, the other one in back detonates. Kill fast or they kill us!" he yelled, hoping the translator he had worked well enough.

Thankfully it seemed it did as the human simply laughed in a most angry and bloodthirsty manner, just like a Krogan he briefly thought, before sweeping their weapon across the walls. Whatever effect it had; they did not get sniped again. A brief moment to take the initiative, Balak had to take it. So, he turned back to his own forces and ordered a barrage of inferno grenades. The tech generated grenades flying in a pattern to flush out the other Asari. Again, with tech armor brightly raised they tried to get in close as they escaped the flames, this time however someone was ready with a biotic lash of their own. The attack pulled them, setting them off balance right in front of Balak. He imagined they had a face full of horror as they saw his upraised arm, the gauntlet he had with its omni generated blades burst out to shatter into their tech armor. One of the humans there also obligingly of course smashed the front of their armor with a brutal backswing of the blunt end of their axeblade. That let enough of a gap for the inferno grenades the others had launched again to slip through the broken protection. He watched pitilessly as the Asari screamed before he pulled up his rifle and began pumping rounds into the flailing not yet corpse. They convulsed a few times as their movement kept them from dying to a fatal shot until at last, they finally gave up living. The flames guttering out as the short-lived thermal paste consumed itself to leave only ashes behind. A gruesome sight to witness, but training had beaten any weakness he had had out of him long ago.

Quickly looking back up he noticed that the humans had managed to simply strafe the back area with enough firepower to either kill or drive off the other Asari judging by the lack of shots. Nodding at that he signaled for some of his troops to go first, the ones most able to spot a cloaked opponent with their armor mods. The sound of a shot ringing out soon afterwards and the return of the troopers dragging the body showed that really, it wasn't far enough for that fool. With an unceremonious thump the body fell before him, a kick of Balak's foot showing indeed the bitch was dead. A shame, Asari that deadly tended to have interesting information to give up. Looking around he noticed that for all that ambush had been sudden, there were only a handful of additional casualties. Some of the initial soldiers had apparently survived if hurt badly while one of his troops had been picked off by a sniper round at some point. The humans had taken the brunt of the attention and survived better then any other force would have without something special.

Seeing that there was nothing else he could add on he looked at the human officer. They popped their helmet and Balak got to see the scarred visage of one of the humans. A minimum of the "Hair" he had heard about on their face that only seemed to accent the many long healed scar marks on their face. Balak got a nod of what he thought was respect or maybe just a promise of only getting killed later. They spit in some strange gesture onto the Asari's body before moving to put their helmet plate back up. In that brief moment of time Balak jerked his arm down the hallway after gesturing to his troops. The human nodded and rallied the able bodied to keep going judging by what he could understand.

If the scans they had were right, then they had just taken out the last serious opposition to the main interior cargo hold. The one most likely to hold the bulk of the slaves taken earlier. Being on a rescue mission certainly was strange, but Balak wondered if it could net him one of the human weapons at some point. He could simply bluff the need to use one of the casualty's sidearms. Certainly, something to keep an eye on.

 

[WyrmofFrost]

Disclaimer: LoGH, Mass Effect, and related franchises are the property of their respective owners. I claim nothing that is not my own.

AN: This is as far as I got in writing, let me know how you felt about the story and if I get enough reception I might write a continuation.
<><><>



Ambassador Kal'Herad was the Batarian Hegemony's representative to the Citadel Council. His job mostly consisted of spewing whatever blandishments he could for internal Hegemony use rather than actually cultivate relations with the other powers in the galaxy. This usually taking the form of a loud rant to the unfortunately captive audience of the Citadel Council and all spectators in the Council chamber before it would be cut up by the Hegemony's propaganda department. Dressed in their typical fashion of the latest citadel fashion modified to batarian tastes, the Ambassador had been oft labeled as chosen for their volume then personal charisma. Something sufficient when they only ever gave out preplanned speeches. The long delayed meeting that should have been solely about the latest round of adjustments to Council's trade laws was instead used to exhort on the Batarian's usual "Gripes". Though those who actually paid attention to the series of soap box speeches noted that the change in ambassador had led to a less incendiary rendition of the Introductory Rant. The next matter however showed a sharp change from the usual proceedings.



"Once again the Batarian People protest the outrageous embargoes against the Hegemony. The perfidy of this council in weakening the security of the Hegemony causes even more chaos across the Terminus and our agreed upon zone of influence. The refusal of proper cooperation in Anti-Pirate and Peacekeeping operations by the arrogant Turians does not help! The Hegemony has again and again done as the so called "Civilized" races have and petitioned this Council in its halls of power. For generations we have been denied. You decry our cultural practices without the simple to find understanding that you are the chief conspirators that perpetuate this crisis of your own making. You demand an end to slavery and then refuse to allow for the tools to end it". Some amongst the crowd shifted as they noticed that the rant seemed to be different from the usual, actually having something even vaguely resembling logical reasoning.



"Mechanical automation, cheap energy, high level education, advanced VIs, all the tools needed to end slavery and you embargo it. You may claim it is just tariffs but when it is impossible to gain these materials through the proper means then why do you expect there to not be a vibrant criminal element looking to gain from the misery and pain. You are the ones enabling the crime that occurs on our borders and in the Terminus. Why in the world do you expect things to change simply because you want it to like petulant children?! Where is the so-called wisdom and strength of the vaunted peoples of the Citadel! It is hard work, the blood of our bodies as we try to strive to be a proud and independent power, to believe in the cause of our own because all others have failed us whether out of malice or simple ignorance. We have strived since our earliest days on our own, but are the dreams of this so-called galactic body to be one of Union and Friendship, of propagating civilization to all truly such?".



The Batarian Ambassador fiddled with his omnitool for a second before a document that had been submitted to the Chamber's document server was highlighted for everyone's notice. The once ignored piece of data now opened by curious individuals. The first thing that showed up was a slideshow of some of the most prominent mercenary groups alongside a variety of different Citadel based companies, dossiers of people and assets along with everything from coroner's reports to salvage manifests. Included further in were images and videos showing these groups and products in use by apparent raiders. The interesting standout were the victims, a group that looked like off-Asari at first glance. But that was it, this was not a species known to Citadel space. The sobering casualty count with listed causes of death added that final bit of horror to the scene.



"The Hegemony has secured evidence of gross illegal acts committed and being committed in the Terminus even now! Current and relevant even more than our previous "requests". What sort of face does this galactic community wish to present to those newcomers to this stage of the universe. One of fire and blood to a people who have never encountered even a glimpse of the Mass Effect" that scathingly sarcastic tone managed to survive most of the translator shift as a murmur rose in the chamber, the political winds shifting to realize that something had bucked the trend.



"The Citadel Council and we Councilors in particular would like to know why this information was not brought to notice earlier? There should have been warning signs of such a matter no? And how much did your "independence" help you in resolving this matter? When more lives could have been saved through the use of Citadel Peacekeepers?" remarked the latest Turian Councilor, one Theodosis. Blunt but the Councilor honestly expected the Ambassador to back down rather than burn political credit by attempting to sling mud at the councilors. What would be gained by raising a ruckus with the Batarian's already shaky galactic position. Which was when the Ambassador proceeded to do exactly that.



"Oh but we have. Oh but we have. Here, the exact timestamps and receipts for the various petitions and emergency requests that have been submitted by the Hegemony or attendant bodies of such. All with barely a VI acceptance reply! Action, that was what was needed in these times and Action was what the Hegemony took! Why bother with the hours of bureaucracy when the lives of innocents was at stake! Deaths occurring in a gross act of undeclared war on a party that knew nothing of their attackers! That had existed in peace before their tragic introduction to the greater Citadel community". Theodosis gave a frown, not liking at all.



"The use of deception to send an entire warfleet into the Terminus, to essentially declare war across much of the expanse? Without any support to inspire worse bloodshed without any attempt at proper mitigation? Citadel peacekeepers are already reporting fierce fighting erupting across the region as the various powers try to take advantage of your forces being out of place" dryly remarked Theodosis.



The Ambassador dramatically shook their hand in the air as they responded. "You speak of your own warmongering desires and unfettered nonsense! The Batarian people strive to fulfill their duty to the state and do not flinch at the hardship. Our people will be hardened and grow better for such conflict, for it shows us who is friend and who is merely a bystander. The galaxy will of course grow better in the aftermath for the stability will let prosperity come to all". That little offer of reconciliation to the others prevented the growing disquiet from turning to something worse for the Ambassador, even as most simply believed it to be mere platitudes.



The Salarian Councilor Sedea, an experienced Dalatrass kept her thoughts to herself on that piece of hypocrisy. When had the Batarians cared about the welfare of others? Not to mention the brushing over of their duplicity. The Batarians had indeed sent notices and then did the bureaucratic equivalent of giving a lunch break for all the staff. Can't get inquiries logged if no one is receiving anything. Of course the stalling aspect had driven STG into a frenzy behind the scenes, but the Batarians had apparently quarantined whatever plan of action enough that no one knew. It spoke of premeditation if they could so smoothly move without instruction from higher up. What move was the Batarian Ambassador trying to do with ripping up the Hegemony's already frayed foreign relations? And if so why were they not completely cutting it rather than keep that one limb behind the line?



The Councilor, not finding anything new from the analysts quite yet and feeling extremely put off balance by events decided to turn to doing something potentially more productive, if the action wasn't usually synonymous with boredom. Actually listening to the Ambassador. "- now if you will not listen then why should the Hegemony continue to be a member of the Council that refuses us any aid in exchange for so much power over us?". A threat that was infrequent if not heard of, but the bucking of the usual rhythm added more force to the threat. Especially as the Ambassador started playing some propaganda video over the central projector, something that was alarming for its contents as the spliced together scenes of Hegemony ships, some unknown fleet, destroyed Terminus ships, and most importantly; the scene of some sort of ceremony between the Batarians and a new race. One apparently associated with the other unidentified fleet judging by how the scenes were cut. Why were the Batarian's so supportive of some new race? If they hadn't already been acting out of the norm this would be the biggest shock, even then it was still at the top of the pile of events that needed to be uncovered posthaste.



"Our valiant External Forces have discovered that Terminus pirates have opened up a relay and have begun raiding the sophonts that dwell in that region of space. But it is not just Terminus scum who dare to break the law. We have uncovered evidence that several prominent mercenary forces headquartered here in Citadel SPACE have participated in such despicable acts on helpless and innocent sophonts who have never been graced by the greater galactic community. What will this Council say to its gross acts of sabotage and hindrance of the greater good! When its so called regulations hinder the advance of law and order to cause gross harm to innocents! We demand that all who can hear these words marshal their words, to bring change to this bloated pus filled system!". If her ears were not betraying her, that was both a call for action and also an offered hand. No attempt at secession just yet, but it certainly would tie down the processes of the Council for some time to deal with the upheaval. A move that obviously twinged in her mind, a curious mix of bluntness, deceit, and faux intrigue. Just what was provoking such change?



The Dalatrass penned a message to STG, just to see if it was a ploy to divert their resources or a genuine threat to be neutered and then crushed. What was the addition of some new race to the attention of the Council anyway? A thought came to her, one she disliked but knew had to be considered. The STG and the Shadow Broker had a somewhat perilous and fraught relationship, perhaps something could be shaken out at acceptable cost. But even as she composed memos to be sent the conversation continued.



"I think the fact that you bring up the matter of a new race in such a circumstance is quite . . . concerning. If they have truly been so injured then we can send aid to help succor their wounds, it will be quite the work to help such a wounded party but best to start now. These events as you describe them are indeed a tragedy but this Council will indeed showcase its stewardship of the galaxy by gathering together aid as a simple first step. Then we can work to solve the root of the cause when the bleeding has been staunched" Tevos faux lightly remarked. Already attempting to move on and spin matters to more productive ends, good for now the Dalatrass thought. It would also give space to verify what is wrong and what is right in this story they had been fed.

"Bah, to do so is simply an insult to our capability. Do you doubt that the Hegemony is a true friend to its friends?" scoffed Kal'Herad. Tevos merely continued on.



"Friendship is a thing that should be shared, and surely you are not restricting access so unilaterally? Would the humans not desire to meet others as well? Would that be so onerous a request to be relayed to them?" spoke Tevos leadingly.



The Ambassador paused at that verbal trap before seemingly taking in a breath. All the Councilors could tell this would be a long session, and they were not even touching on their original task.



<><><>



Elsewhere, Citadel Space



It was a tense mood within the halls and hold of the ramshackle fleet that had just crossed into Terminus space. The few remnants of a once massive coalition, determined to take what they could not make themselves to finally be more than simply another petty power. Some did so for their people, others for the promise of spoils, some simply for the opportunity. But they had survived where others had not. The new warband of renegades had managed to hijack a variety of ships including a human mega freighter and then escape. A makeshift hostage situation letting them make the run far enough to not be destroyed. Some had been a part of the early stages of the raids and had some knowledge of human systems, enough to make it out but of the initial fight but not through the sole chokepoint back. That is without some help, not of all of it expecting another to lend a hand. Now that the fleet had limped its way back to "Relative" safety, they needed to know what they could do to get out of this situation. That had let the relevant hackers of the fleet to access a com buoy for information. Few were happy at what was found after the obligatory disbelief and threats were thrown around.



Now disgraced Lieutenant Vevia led what was left of the Eclipse forces that had been hired on, her hands shaking and biotics flaring in a gross example of loss of control. Other then a few looks none said anything, it was understandable if unprofessional. The news of the Eclipse contingent and by extension herself being summarily ejected from the ranks of the sisterhood was a shock. Something shared by a number of other individuals who had had ties or memberships to cross galactic groups. Others simply snorted and postured, their independent status shielding them from such things for now. But the Citadel would certainly bar them from entering their space again even if no bounties were placed.



Solem Dal'Serah, the head of the Batarian "Private Security" company Shield of Night snorted. The slight noise loud in the near silence of before. "Well, standing around won't do anything. A goal is needed and then a plan. How many resources do we have? We had to ditch quite a bit to make the "Transit Toll". If we don't want a bloodbath finishing the rest of us off if we try to split up the loot we need to band together and do so now". Those words got some traction with the spectators, they had gotten here at all because they could work together. Violence between each other having been ruthlessly put down by a temporary coalition of the biggest groups. Splitting now meant open season for fighting and it was one that was unlikely to have many able to walk away from it in the end.



"Doing that will simply stem the bleeding, do you want us to starve or go full pirate?" muttered out loud someone in the crowd. They had little desire to become a pirate, that meant desperation and loss of even the few moral codes they had left to let them be able to face the next day. To sell their soul piece by piece and die hollow, they were veterans. They had put down too many that had become like that. To that Solem made a dramatic gesture.



"Our old employers had been bought out, died, or disavowed us. Instead we have new hands offering us our next paycheck. Credits and resources that won't be simply dangaled without guarantee. I have the proper Illium based Escrow documents, we will not be left to wither weak and destitute. We won't even be forced to do only their tasks, simply some tokens to be called in later. Not the best, but far better then degenerating into savages no? Now do we have anyone who wants to depart and try to make it on their own? Speak up now or you won't get a second chance to do so" was the barked out order of the old Batarian veteran.



It was unsaid that despite Solem not spelling out his benefactors, he had managed to get them past a Hegemony blockade. That implied connections to the higher echelons of that state. The Hegemony may be derided in Citadel space by the Big Three. But for the second string of species of the Citadel though, they were a serious and influential party. The Hegemony had its fingers in many a pie in the Terminus and for any who declared themselves Mercs. It was an offer with potential, both boon and poison all in one package. Solem knew all this and hoped to bludgeon the others into marching without leaving an option out for the rest of group. Faced with such a thing, few would break off and those who would have had done so long ago. All this making the situation something that had Solem quite confident, a bad choice over no choice would leave him all the benefits. Then as he started to feel that he had won he was interrupted from speaking the final words.



Nyxeris, an Asari Commando representing a coalition of independents, spoke up. "Do you think we can keep doing well here with a ship we barely know what to do about? No, we need to get it ditched and for the highest price we can get in the lowest amount of time. If no one else has an idea of how to do this then how about I offer a solution". The possibility of another choice intrigued the others. It might not be what they ended up doing, but it gave them a chance to get something back for themselves. Competition, a double sided weapon.



"Cheh, let me guess. They refuse to give their identity and would like to have a good chat with all of us before hand? Maybe pull out one or two for some "Special Need" and never be seen again." Solem glared his eyes as he spoke. The anger and rabble rousing covering for his need to regain control of the situation with Nyxeris trying to wrest the takeover of the group away from him. His backers would not be pleased if this loose end did not have something to justify for it not being clipped.



"Oh no, I don't think I need to do more then say that they are one in the shadows. We all know what happens when someone takes "Their" name in vain. I can say that we won't be lightly compensated for this. You all know their reach is great, why die tired when you could live a better life?". Her words set the crowd alight in murmuring. They all knew that the centuries long figure indeed brooked no imitators or charlatans. You wished you died was a simple way to describe the fates of those that falsely took on the name of the Shadow Broker. Solem himself knew not to do that. So he could only glare impotently in trying to kill Nyxeris on the spot.



Vevia considered her options, she led the last cohesive bloc left. Her mind was torn because if she threw her weight in, then the last of the undecided would probably also do the same. It had a better then nothing chance of being her choice as well. And if she didn't then her group and herself would be singled out. Who would she choose?



<><><>

In orbit above Odin, Human Space



"Lord Reinhard! I returned as fast as I could!" came the thunderous approach of an Admiral of the Galactic Empire. His way to the current chambers of his dearest friend had been with utmost speed, only slightly hindered by a weapons check. His distaste coming from the delay more than losing his sidearm. Kircheis' heart thundered in his chest as he power walked in the instant there was a sliver of space between the thrown open doors.

"My friend, it does my heart good to see you returned to my side at last" came the still charismatic but dimmer voice of the man who was Emperor in all but name as the doors rebounded themselves shut from the force they were opened with.



"It must be if you are being so flowery in your words" remarked Kircheis with relief and then pain on his face as he went down to a knee beside his friend's bedside. His friend laid in a special gel medical bed to ensure his injuries were cushioned and remained sterile as he rested. He looked bad, his face and side had been torn by shrapnel and were now swathed in bandages to render him a pitiful sight. Reinhard's movements were slow and deliberate as he turned his head and slowly reached out an arm, the effort obviously straining to the man but still done regardless. It only traveled a few inches before Kircheis reached across the distance, hands now grasped by the two men as they took renewed strength from being reunited.



"I have had quite a bit of time to read after being forced into bedside rest. My doctors are insisting I reduce my workload and sister decided a book of poetry would help keep my mind off of things" they both cracked a smile at the mention of their shared beloved. They both knew that even if Reinhard hated poetry he would still read an entire tome of it to be able to answer any questions Annerose may happen to ask.



"I am sure she will approve of your efforts" Kirchesis said with a smile.



Reinhard faux stoically nodded. "Yes indeed. Though I find it a tad annoying that Oberstein has managed to do more confined to bed rest then I am" remarked Reinhard sassily, his mood settled enough now to vent to his friend.



"I had heard he was greviously injured as well in the assassination attempt, but is he really capable of doing so much?" remarked Kircheis as he found himself a stool to be able to sit beside his friend.



"Oh yes indeed. Well considering he managed to talk my admirals into seizing the capital in my name after only a few scant words I suppose so. Still I made sure he is now as firmly kept away from any work for his own good as possible. Considering I have yet to hear of an invasion into FPA space I can consider it accomplished. Now if only I can accelerate my own plans" when Reinhard waved his hand after finishing speaking Kircheis understood without any words as he helped his friend take a sip of water.



"Is, is that a good thing? To push ahead recklessly like that? Everything is still unsettled. I heard so many conflicting things. You had declared yourself Emperor apparently according to some of the traffic I came across on the way here. That is just the tamest thing being bantered about, news about the Aliens will get out eventually and that is . . ." Kircheis trailed off as he put down the glass on the tableside. The thought not quite reaching the tip of his tongue.



Taking a moment to let the water flow down his throat, Reinhard replied. "To start. No, no I have not declared myself that. No, instead I am keeping to a few more humble titles. I am injured after all, can't go quite there yet. Like you said, we aren't ready to remove the Goldenbaum dynasty. It still has some worth to its name, especially now in the changing circumstances. Not yet at least." he finished his words darkly.



"Just don't lose sight of yourself my friend. Neither I nor your sister would want to see you lost. Not to mention that you have so many people who believe in you just as we do, that faith deserves something right?". Kircheis gently spoke.



"Ah yes, so many responsibilities. So many hats to wear" Reinhard muttered loudly.



"Just a few?" Kircheis jokingly replied.



Reinhard made to adjust the pillow at his back only for Kircheis to"I think having two hats is enough, good practice though for having heavy things on my head"



"That certainly seems like quite the burden my friend"



"Oh it is, but . . . we are so close. One more step along the path to the stars. Even if it is more crowded than we thought" Reinhard grumbled out at the end.



"Yes, these Batarians and the Batarian Hegemony as they call themselves. It is, interesting. Strange as well" hedged Kircheis. Something that gained Reinhard's attention.



"How so?" he asked.



Kircheis frowned as he replied. "They are familiar, quite familiar in fact. In the bad ways".



"Too much like the husk we are slowly shedding?" asked Reinhard.


Kircheis tapped a finger on his knew as he gathered his thoughts. "Yes, but at the same time it is strange. They are perhaps acting, how to say, alien like? I am not sure if it is some mannerism or if something else but they are acting like we are equals. A rather soft touch when otherwise I have the feeling they would have pressed against any perceived weakness like some courtier. That is the sort of attitude that I get from them in their common manner".



"They avoid a supposed weakness where they know there is strength instead?" Reinhard guessed.

"Yes, that is a way to describe it" Kircheis nodded.



"They know something that would put us as favorable compared to them, but how much and from where?" Reinhard let out as his mind continued to pick and prod at the apparent mystery.



"Do you think they . . ." Kircheis trailed off, the thought was a worst case scenario, but quite a few members of the pirates were also Batarians. Maybe that did not mean much, but his mind did reach that paranoid thought.



The two shared a glance before Reinhard nodded in thought. "Possibly, unlikely but possibly. That would require some grand conspiracy, though as aliens perhaps it is par for the course to them" Reinhard mused before shaking his head. "No we cannot deal in such uncertainties. Not and let ourselves be guided to a false conclusion by our own thoughts. Strength, we need strength if we are to to be in the best position possible to tear down this rotting edifice. Which brings me to another point. I will need you more then ever in the coming days Kircheis". Reinhard's eyes blazed as he sat himself up, staring redoubtably into his friend's eyes.



"What do you need of me?" feeling the mood, Kircheis returned the look and waited for his friend's earnest request.



"I cannot do too many things on my own, the weakness of my body will likely last for a few months and this is not a time that I can simply allow myself to slowly recover. I can handle the political side to some degree, but you will need to act as my hand in the military. We will need to comb the rest of our compatriots to find others sufficient to the tasks we will soon face. An issue with Oberstein being incapacitated. He is a harsh man but a loyal one that we needl". Reinhard admitted.



Kircheis nodded. "I still feel uncomfortable with having a man of his disposition. You do remember the sort of liberties he has taken before right? Not simply because he is loyal can he get away with such things! Overreach is putting it mildly. Is that the sort of person you want having broad responsibilities and powers? I do not like him and even as I know he is still someone needed if you want to fulfill your dreams, I do not think he is capable of stepping past the tragedies and methods of the past. How can we build a new Empire that will never make people like your sister suffer if we can resort so easily to such things when it benefits us? When have we reached a point where results justify any means possible?" he said beseechingly.



Reinhard stopped for a moment to consider his friend's impassioned plea. What came next was almost a foregone conclusion, it simply took him a moment to realize it. "You are my moral compass, I indeed cannot rebuild this Empire into something better without you by my side. Will you step up to the task once more my friend? To be able to put me to task if I ever misstep so?". Hearing such words made Kircheis step up and closer to his one true companion.



"I swore so when we were children, when have I ever said I would not keep doing so" he declared to Reinhard's happy smile. The moment however soon lost its energy and both feeling a bit more emotionally weary settled back down.



Reinhard was the one to restart the conversation they were having after awkwardly clearing his throat. "Hmm yes. But enough about my plights, how has your mission been?" he asked.



"I have been working with the incumbent Fezzan garrison commander. Decent officer but could use more seasoning, a fair enough hand but older then most of the other talents you have in your circle. Hasn't commanded anything like a full fleet yet either but seemed to handle the aftermath and clean up operations quite well" started Kircheis, aware of his friend's collectionist mindset for talent.



"Hmm we don't have anyone notable handling logistics do we?" mused Reinhard.



"Not that I can recall off the top of my head" Kircheis replied.



Reinhard nodded but decided to not make a hasty decision. "A matter for the future. Now what can you tell me about the alien commander and their doctrine".



"Their fleet sizes are quite small. They don't use massed formation and weight of fire doctrines like we and the alliance do. Or if they do it is at a much smaller scale then we recognize. That shows in their admiral's attitude, highly aggressive but still with a good understanding of organized formation combat. This being in contrast to the attacking coalition, though I have doubts on their being representative of the apparent Citadel Council and their forces. Too many obviously different groups that were not coordinated in any but the most rudimentary way. It will need a dedicated staff officer group to go over to get anything useful-" Kircheis continued on his report, the two continuing until the doctor on duty came to reprimand the two for stressing themselves so.



<><><>



Hannah Shepard had grumbled and weakly struggled when the medical orderlies briskly stripped her out of her uniform. They had walked to her as she was sitting next to her daughter with her work tablet and bundled her off to a new bed next to her. The nurses that had come in next summarily ignored the death glares she had given as she was placed in a patient's gown and an IV of nutritional fluid strapped to her. It was an indignity to the breveted Admiral. It was also a place where she was blatantly told that she was outranked by any practitioner there and the medical staff were 'quite firm in keeping to their oaths thank you very much'. Apparently 'Letting the elder Shepard kill themselves from overwork and stress certainly would not help the recovery of the younger Shepard' they said, 'get some rest herself' they said. Well here she was now in the thankfully still intact hospital facilities of Fezzan's Orbital Elevator.



So they strapped her down to a bed and took away anything that could be used to do work with. Hannah's staff were duly informed to not bring up anything but the most serious of emergency situations to their superior. Something that she would later learn the quietly spreading Imperial control did nothing to halt, they would responsibly help protect Fezzan after all. It is still an Imperial member state isn't it? But for now all she had to herself was the worry about her child, she was practical enough to realize that everything else was beyond her control now. Sighing she grabbed one of the atrocious magazines that hospitals always had, time to see how she could rot her brain as she waited. She wanted to be there when her daughter first wakes up.



All of which lead one Jane Shepard to a few hours later, blearily wake up and have to have a double take immediately after looking to her side. A second glance did nothing to stop her confusion at seeing her mother laying down seemingly unconscious in the bed next to her. But not for long as a nurse entered the room shortly after noticing the changes in the younger Shepard's life signs. That caused her mother to wake up and notice her daughter had woken up. The acidic glare from the nurse the only thing keeping the parent in her bed, but the returning glare was bounced off the implacable steel of the nurse's face. Jane Shepard wondered what sort of drugs she was on to be thinking like that.



"Good to see ya mum. How's it going?" she heard come out of her mouth. She tried to smile to cover that up, judging by the look of bemusement on her mother's face it was working right?



"Hello Jane, it is good to see you in one piece and feeling well. Though I expect that won't be the case for much longer" her mother said.



"Uh, what do you mean by that?" she asked somewhat dubiously. The slight smile on her mother's face did not help.



"Why Jane, I thought I raised you right. What sort of poor mother was I that you turned to drugs to get by? Oh my sweet child needing to go into rehab and detox her body. Oh how I weep for your self destruction, what sort of child did I raise?" she mourned dramatically with her face in her hands.



"Mom, what the fuck" Jane Shephard could only deadpan, her mind not in a good place to do any mental gymnastics.



"Oh, Jane. Language! You are breaking this old woman's heart" her mother continued to be dramatic as she sat up and laid a hand over her heart while looking solemnly at her daughter.



"Mom!" barked out Jane exasperatedly.



"Jane" replied Hannah simply.



Mom" was growled out.



"Jane" spoken with a dead tone.



"I'm done with this conversation" groaned out Jane as she let herself fall back on the reclined bed after grabbing a pillow to put over her head.



"Oh are we indeed?" Jane could hear faintly before she started angrily groaning into the pillow.



It was perhaps a minute or so later when the younger Shepard finally let go of the pillow. "Jane, feeling better now that you let everything go?" came the now calm voice of her mother.



"Yeah. But I still hate you" Jane grumbled out.



"As long as we are both here for it. I know that we got off badly before, well all of this" Jane saw her mother sweep her hand at them both and the room in a circle motion. "I thought it best that you let the bile out before you start celebrating once you get discharged. No need for it to fester". Her mother answered, Jane sighed. Her mother, still so infuriating yet wise.



"Yeah, yeah. Doesn't mean I like your reverse psychologizing me" she answered after a moment of silence.



"I know dear, I know". Her mother did not mention that she cared, that she had feelings for her daughter of course. Jane could appreciate that at least, that her mother was not swinging an emotional sledgehammer. Didn't mean she did not use one of those doctor's hammers instead.



Feeling emotionally tired regardless Jane muttered out. "Great conversation mom. I'm just gonna clock out now" and she did so summarily.

"I am not sure if I consider that rude or not Ma'am" retorted the nurse, still in the room as she had worked silently at a terminal in the corner of the room.



"Don't take it badly, Jane has an unfortunate case of tunnel vision in life. She can do better, but well do you really think she was even close to having a half full tank of gas?" Hannah answered to the nurse.



"Well, moving on. I would normally try to explain this to the patient but as her parent can you make sure she takes these pills at the required times. Instructions are right there, I need to continue my rounds otherwise I would stay and chat for a bit. More readings to write up for the rest of our patients. Unless there is something you need urgently?" the nurse explained as she closed the electric clipboard in her arm.



"No, of course nurse. Go right ahead, I can press the button if I really need anything". As the nurse left the room Shepard senior let her body fall back to the bedrest. Maybe she could take that nap as well. Before she drifted off she mused about just how the galaxy was changing so fast.

 

[Eternal Lord]

This is a good story so far. Thanks for create this unique story. After all when people write about Mass effect they don't have the barbarians teaming up with humans. Especially the Batarian Hegemony's the humans usually overthrow that government and then replace it with a other government. Like I don't even know one other story where they team up.