A chapter in which the Geth Do Things, while everyone looks worried... 
March 2126
International Governmental Cooperation Committee Building
Extrasystem Control Group
"What were you thinking, Commander?" Premier Winston Clarke asked, sitting behind his desk, his hands folded on it and his voice calm but curious. Athena's avatar was standing next to him observing the occupants of the private office, which included Commander DiGriz who was looking somewhat nervous under an air of resolve, Ambassador Santhotuzex off to the side also watching curiously, and General LeBatelier who was glaring a little at CCF scout ship captain. "Why would you open fire on two alien vessels under those circumstances?" He raised a hand as the man opened his mouth.
"I've read your report, and those of your crew, I just want to hear it in your own words. What brought you to consider that action justified?"
The commander took a breath, then let it out, glancing at the highest ranking person in the CCF who didn't look entirely pleased, then at Athena, who looked back neutrally. Swallowing slightly, he met Clarke's eyes.
"A number of things, sir," he replied. "The four Batarian ships, regardless of their true origin,
were acting illegally both under the laws of this Council of theirs, and our own. If they had encountered a patrol from the Turian military, from what I've learned the result would have been an immediate battle which would likely have resulted in the exact same thing. And probably a lot of other deaths too, of course, possibly including the crew of that Quarian ship. Those guys were entirely innocent in the whole thing, after all. They hadn't done anything other than be in the wrong place at the wrong time as far as I could tell. We'd been observing them for months, they're just a crew who's investigating something that puzzles them and were no threat to anyone."
#Correct as far as it goes,# Athena commented. He nodded to her.
"There's also the principle of
hostis humani generis in my view. The Batarians were going to a lot of trouble to look like, act like, and pretend to be pirates. Even if they
were ultimately technically legitimate military forces, which I don't think has been proven yet anyway, it was definitely an act well outside any rules of engagement we,
or they, would recognize as valid and legal. The Quarians called for help against overwhelming hostile forces trying to kill them if not something worse, and in my view we were
obliged by our own laws and oaths to provide it. Yes, I admit I should probably have asked for permission first, but by the point we had proof they weren't going to make it, we didn't have time to do anything other than stop the Batarians. Our ability to do so with what we had on hand was unfortunately limited to actions that resulted in the destruction of both ships. We had no other way to stop them that wouldn't have resulted in a much worse information leakage than we ultimately created."
He paused for a moment while everyone stayed silent, then added, "Sir, those Quarians had already survived something that by rights they shouldn't have, by sheer hard work and talent not to mention a determination that's admirable. They'd run out of
everything other than hope and desperation. I know that if I and my
own crew were in such a situation, I'd certainly wish that someone would come to our aid. We couldn't simply watch them die. Not like that."
DiGriz took another breath and straightened up even more. "I take full responsibility for what I ordered, and my crew merely did what they were told to the best of their abilities. I regret the necessity, and I admit that I may have overstepped my bounds and caused problems I probably shouldn't have, but in all honestly I can't say I wouldn't do the same thing again under the same circumstances. Because it was the right thing to do."
Clarke studied him for quite a long time, making DiGriz sweat. He could almost feel LeBatelier's eyes burning into the back of his head. Eventually the Premier looked at Athena, the AI returning his gaze. They seemed to have, and probably did have, a private conversation via n-link.
Eventually returning his gaze to DiGriz, Clarke looked past him at the General and the Ambassador. The commander didn't dare look around.
After a while the other man sighed a little. "You raise some valid points, commander. I can't say that I'm pleased with the whole situation, and there are a number of people who are considerably less charitable about it than that, believe me. On the other hand, there are also those that feel you made the right call under the circumstances. On the whole, having looked into it, I tend to think they're probably right. And you have considerable public support for what you did even if it's not precisely how everyone would prefer us to act. The days when we jumped into fighting without thinking it through very carefully indeed are, with any luck, long past."
"I have no more wish to bring back the specter of the Mad Years than anyone else does, sir," DiGriz said quietly. "But I can't stand by and watch while people die due to aggressive and criminal actions by
slavers. My own ethics won't allow it, neither will my oath of service."
"No. I suppose you can't. And I don't think I could either." Clarke lowered his eyes to his hands, then raised them again. "Thank you for explaining what you did."
DiGriz nodded. He turned to LeBatelier and saluted. The much older man returned it. "Dismissed, Commander. We'll be in touch soon."
"Sir."
He looked back at the Premier, who seemed thoughtful, and Athena. The AI smiled at him, just a little, which relieved a considerable amount of stress in his mind.
#Don't worry, Commander, it will work out,# she sent directly to his n-link, the words for him alone.
#In my view you did the right thing for the right reasons.#
"Thanks," he replied silently as he left the office, breathing a sigh of relief when he was outside. There was no response other than a projected sense of a slight smile then she was gone again.
Deciding that he needed a drink, he headed through the corridors to one of the smaller bars he knew about from previous visits to the capital. Shortly he was seated at the bar nursing a small tumbler of very good rum.
Someone sat down next to him. He glanced over then his eyes widened a little.
"Lord Alamo," he said politely to the representative of the Empire of Texas, who nodded.
"Commander DiGriz," the other man, fifteen years or so his senior, replied calmly. He took the glass the server mechanism handed him with a murmur of thanks and sipped it, looking pleased for a moment before putting it down on the bar top with a faint clink. "Sometimes we find ourselves in a position we didn't really want for reasons that come as something of a surprise," he continued after a few seconds of silence, apparently concentrating on the ice clinking around in his glass. "We make a quick decision, and things suddenly get complicated. Right or wrong, we have to live with the consequences. And it's a mark of character as to
how we do that."
He glanced at DiGriz, then went back to contemplating his drink. "Saving the lives of someone you've never met because it's the correct thing to do is… admirable. Even if it comes at a cost to you." He took another sip, before replacing the glass on the bar. "And while taking lives isn't something anyone should look forward to, on occasion you have to make a choice. I happen to think you made the right one."
"As do I, despite my dislike for combat if there's any viable alternative," another voice said from his other side. Both men looked over to see Ambassador Santhotuzex standing there, a thranx drinking vessel in one true-hand. His antennae were in a position showing resigned amusement and mild sadness. "In this case, I don't think there was." He made a gesture indicating acceptance. "If we ever do engage with any of the Council species, perhaps we can ask them what
they'd have done. I suspect the answer would be what you did. And I do think that the Quarians involved would be rather grateful." His antennae moved showing the equivalent of a momentary smile. "Who knows? Perhaps one day they'll tell you that. Perhaps not. Time will tell."
"I suppose it will," DiGriz replied after a moment. Finishing his drink he put the empty glass down and watched as the bar removed it in a small blur of motion. "I seem to find myself at something of a loose end. Do either of you play poker?"
Santhotuzex and Lord Alamo looked at each other. The latter slowly smiled in a rather evil manner. "As it happens, I do," he said smoothly. "And I do believe that the Ambassador is familiar with it."
"In that case, if you've both got time, it would take my mind off my possible fate," DiGriz said. Pointing at one of the tables, he added, "Shall we?"
"After you, Commander," Ambassador Santhotuzex said with a gesture of anticipation. His antennae were now curled into a somewhat predatory position and DiGriz noticed with mild alarm that he had a deck of cards in one true-hand.
The alarm was rather more than mild when he found out how having four hands made shuffling cards into something that was downright terrifying...
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
GS year 2409.7
Quarian Migrant Fleet Live Ship Shellen
Sky of Rannoch Bar, Deck 29 Quadrant 3
"Rael!"
Rael'Zorah looked over to where the familiar voice had come from, then headed in that direction. Reaching the gesticulating figure he said dryly, "I'm here, Nito, you can stop waving."
Nito'Mas vas Kitteh, captain of another scoutship and an old friend, lowered his arm. By his movements he was not entirely sober. "You're late," he scolded, pushing a drinking vessel full of something alcoholic over the table to Rael'Zorah as he sat. "You'll need to hurry to catch up." He added a small burp, making Rael'Zorah shake his head with a tolerant smile.
"I have no intention of becoming paralytically drunk at the moment, thanks," he replied, chuckling, although he picked up the drinking bulb and poked the straw through the intake port of his environment suit and took a grateful drink of the contents. "Nice, I haven't had quagga cider in months," he added when he put it down again. "Thank you. Next round is on me."
"Of course it is," Nito'Mas said expansively, waving his arms around and nearly knocking the person sitting next to him to the floor. "You still own me from last time."
"Last time we nearly got kicked out by security," Rael'Zorah pointed out with humor. "I seem to recall it was your fault. Again."
"Mere details," his friend expostulated, waving a hand dismissively. "We were having fun. They were just getting in the way."
"And doing their jobs."
"Causing hard-working captains to spill their drinks shouldn't be a job," Nito'Mas grumbled, taking another pull on his bulb. "We need time to relax and they were just being rude."
Rael'Zorah shook his head. "Sooner or later the Admirals are going to have a word with you," he sighed, then took a drink of his own. "Leaving the past in the past where it belongs, how are things going with you?"
"Ah, not too bad," Nito'Mas said, leaning forward over the table. "The usual thing. Finding new suppliers for things we need, a little prospecting for essential minerals, eezo, you know. Picking up some of the youngsters who were returning from Pilgrimage, looking for a couple who
didn't, you know."
"Any trouble?"
"Got chased off by a Turian bosh'tet who accused us of trespassing in one system, even though it's not habitable and no one cares about it," Nito'Mas grumbled. "Unpleasant guy, kind of full of himself even for a Turian. No idea why his patrol was there, it's way off their usual route, but he was insistent and I didn't want to risk problems. Saw a pair of Batarian bandits coming out of Relay 212 just as we were leaving the system but I don't think they noticed us. We stopped half a light out and changed course just in case, but never saw them again."
"212… Krelic Station?" Rael'Zorah asked thoughtfully. His friend nodded. "Not a good reputation, that place. Not as bad as Omega, nowhere really is, but I'd prefer never to go there again."
"I heard that the Blue Suns were operating out of it for a while about half a year ago, some sort of merc mission, but I don't know the details," the other man replied with a nod. "Order came down that no pilgrims were allowed there, just in case. We lost at least three people in that area in the last year."
Rael'Zorah shook his head in disgust. "I heard that, yes. Blue Suns
and Batarians at the same place is definitely bad news."
His friend finished his drink then waved across the room to the server for two more, the woman looking at him and waving back acknowledgment. Returning his attention to his companion, he added morosely, "Too many good people not coming back these days. Did you hear the
Jrilian was apparently lost about eighteen months back?"
"No. That's Tela'Grun's ship, right?"
"Yeah, that's it. Cargo ship, converted light frigate class. Old but reliable." Nito'Mas sighed. "She was a good friend, and had a first rate crew. No way it was an accident. Somewhere about halfway between here and the Citadel, on the edges of the Hierarchy space. Last anyone heard she'd gone through Relay 457, aiming for Phoros to pick up some reactor coils, then..." He gestured tiredly. "Pop. Gone. Didn't arrive on time, no one's seen her ship since."
"Damn."
"Yeah. Too many like that. I wish the thrice-cursed Turians would get off their collective asses and actually do something about bandits and pirates, instead of chasing respectable and harmless Quarians out of systems they have every right to be in."
The server dropped off the new drinks, Rael'Zorah thanking her and transferring credits with his omnitool, before finishing his first drink and picking up the second.
"Little hope of that happening," he said with disgust. "They don't like us."
"
I don't like
them," Nito'Mas growled under his breath, before pouring half the new drink down his throat. "But you don't see
me being rude to them either."
"Turians."
"May they get carapace itch and never sit comfortably again," his friend chuckled, tapping his drinking bulb against Rael'Zorah's in a toast that made both of them snigger.
A couple of hours later, Rael'Zorah was fairly inebriated, having a good time, and swapping tall stories with the rest of the people who'd gradually accumulated around their table. Several other ship captains and members of their crews, all people he'd known for years, plus a couple of newcomers who some of the others had dragged over. It was a nice change from his recent work and the stress of that intensely scary and remarkably inexplicable last mission, which had ended in something he
still couldn't believe.
And that the Admirals had flatly told him was not only impossible but insane.
Right up until he'd shown them the recordings, of course. At that point things had become very confused and resulted in the entire operation being classified to the highest level, his crew sworn to secrecy, and a lot of rather worried high level people.
There were quite a few implications of the entire thing, which started out as unnerving and got steadily more so the more you thought about them.
He'd tried
not to think about such things but it wasn't precisely easy to succeed in this. Especially combined with all the other oddities he'd learned over the last few years. He probably knew more of the whole picture than pretty much anyone and yet he was utterly certain that he knew almost nothing in reality.
Something was out there in the dark, he now had absolute proof of
that, delivered in the most unsettling way imaginable, but
what it was was entirely unknown. Aside from it being dangerous to a level that he didn't like to think about.
On the positive side he and his entire crew were alive because of whatever had happened and a large number of Batarian scum who definitely deserved their fate
weren't, so he wasn't going to complain.
Just have difficulty sleeping at times.
And be very pleased that whoever or whatever it was lurking in the black appeared to be at worst neutral to his species, possibly actively friendly in an extremely creepy way, and polite.
Polite was good. Polite might well be the difference between creepy and horrific.
He still didn't really want to meet them, though. Just in case. His mind had conjured up far more ghastly images of bizarre alien creatures to make that idea comforting…
"… then he said it was super easy, barely an inconvenience, before falling flat on his face and passing out," Nito'Mas finished, slurring his words quite badly. He really was pretty drunk at this point. "We never let him live
that one down."
The entire table laughed uproariously. "I can see why," Hathr'Tres, another ship captain, guffawed. "Thirty four of them? Really?"
"Swear on my honor," Nito'Mas nodded, shrugging. "Craziest Krogan I've ever met in my life."
"Which is impressive for all the wrong reasons considering Krogans in general," Rael'Zorah put in, grinning. He finished his latest drink and ordered another round for them all.
"Yeah." Nito'Mas shook his head in wonder, nearly falling off his chair until his XO, who'd turned up about an hour ago, steadied him. "Mad as a Geth with a bad battery, but he saved us that day, so I owe him one." He snickered drunkenly. "Doesn't stop me bringing it up every chance I get."
"Knowing you that doesn't exactly surprise me," Zap'Ran, who was on the other side of the table having joined them at the same time as Nito'Mas's XO, laughed. "Your reputation is… well deserved."
"Is that any way to speak to a superior officer?" Nito'Mas demanded, then hiccuped.
"My apologies. Sir." Zap'Ran performed an exaggeratedly over the top salute. "It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't or… or..." Nito'Mas swayed, apparently trying to think of a suitable insult. "...Or I'll steal your booze."
"You did that last time, Nito," Rael'Zorah sighed. "Then drank it."
"Oh, right, I forgot."
Everyone exchanged glances and started laughing again.
Eventually they'd pretty much run out of stories to exchange and were just sitting and talking quietly, enjoying the companionship. Rael'Zorah was drunk enough that he was thinking that tomorrow wasn't going to be fun, but also drunk enough that he didn't really care. Nito'Mas was well past that point, while the others were also in a fairly merry but tired state.
"Heard a rumor..." Hathr'Tres leaned forward conspiratorially, causing them all to do the same out of curiosity. "Few weeks back, a Batarian pirate group vanished. No one knows what happened to them. Funny thing is that I heard
another rumor that said it wasn't really pirates, if you get what I mean."
"Batarian pirates vanish all the time," someone scoffed. "Mostly because the Turians shoot them on sight. Or the Asari do. Or anyone else who outguns them."
"True, true, but this was different," the other captain insisted as Rael'Zorah listened curiously, wondering who had said what to who and when. "Two modern frigates, well armed, and a pair of older but still good ships, just… poof." He mimed something with his hands. "Gone. Nothing left. Over. Done with. Over and done." Taking a sip of one of the dozens of half-full bulbs on the table, he sucked noisily, then added, "Done over."
He wasn't exactly sober, of course.
"Still going to be the Turians."
"Yeah? Maybe. But normally when they take out a pirate group they're all over the net bragging about how a glorious victory was had against the forces of disorder or some other patriotic garbage. This time… nothing. No one's claimed responsibility, no one's swearing undying revenge like that bosh'tet three years ago..."
"Who got himself killed when he tried jumping the seventh patrol group in the Verge," another person noted.
"Yeah, him. Idiot. Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. No one's saying anything about anything. Which is weird."
"Maybe nothing actually happened to begin with?" Rael'Zorah commented just to see what happened.
Hathr'Tres shook his head slowly. "My guy said his guy promised that
his guy was right. They just… poof."
Everyone looked skeptically at him. "Honest! Poof!"
"Right." Nito'Mas nodded several times, rather unsteadily. "We believe you."
Xel'Neath, his XO, laughed. "Maybe it's them."
"Them?" Zap'Ran asked with a glance at his captain.
"Them. The ones who steal ships. Or that's what the rumors say."
"People have been saying that since anyone's been traveling in space, but there's never been any evidence at all," someone else said.
"They don't
leave evidence," Xel'Neath hissed, looking around. "Which proves it."
Everyone looked at him, then each other, before most of them started chortling.
"I'll believe that when I see it," the engineer who'd spoken up replied with a shake of his head. "Absence of evidence is evidence of nothing."
Shrugging, Xel'Neath picked up his drink. "Yeah, maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?" He took a sip.
A few minutes later, Rael'Zorah checked the time, then decided that he needed sleep now more than another drink. "Better get back," he announced, using his omnitool to pay the last of his tab. "Only got two more days of shore leave, then we're off."
"See you next time, Rael," Nito'Mas slurred cheerfully. "Don't fly into a planet. That always stings."
"I'll do my best, Nito." As he was about to leave, Zap'Ran also standing, he hesitated, then turned back. "One last thing… I know this is going to sound crazy, and I can't say much, but..." He looked around, then leaned over the table, lowering his voice. "If you guys ever end up in a situation where it looks like you're in real trouble… Call for help."
"What?" Hathr'Tres appeared baffled, as did the others.
"Trust me. If, just to put it out there, you get chased by Batarian pirates, just… call for help. And if you
get it… Thank them."
He straightened up.
His friends and colleagues exchanged confused look.
"Thank who?" Xel'Neath queried in a voice filled with uncertainty.
Rael'Zorah shrugged as he turned to leave. "I have no idea at all," he muttered as he walked off, swaying a little and feeling an unaccountable desire for something very spicy to eat. "I wish I did."
Behind him, the rest looked at each other again, then resumed drinking, but there was more than one thoughtful face inside the environment suits.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
GS year 2411.28
Councilor Tevos's Private Quarters
Citadel
"What in the name of the
Goddess is going
on?" Tevos said with complete exasperation, throwing her hands in the air and staring at the holo display in an uncharacteristic display of annoyance.
Her old friend and mentor slowly shook her head, appearing baffled. Benezia was on the Citadel having arrived a few days ago carrying a number of secure messages from the Asari government that were deemed too secret to trust to even encrypted communications channels. Matriarch Raana wasn't physically present, but had joined them via the usual comms connection. She also looked perturbed, although she was frowning thoughtfully as she studied something on her end.
"I really have no idea," Benezia replied after a moment. "It's still
barely possible these are simply rumors, of course."
"I very much doubt it," Raana said, still reading something off to the side. "There is too much evidence, even if all of it is circumstantial at best. At least twenty one Batarian pirate vessels have simply vanished in approximately the last two years. The real number is likely to be considerably higher although that's the ones we have proof of actual existence for. All denied by the Batarians, of course, and even the ships we know for certain
did exist are described as pirates and bandits. But there's more than enough information, obtained via various methods including STG surveillance, to show that a large proportion of them were most likely black military projects. Including a fairly modern dreadnought, which is… worrying."
"The Batarian ships of the line aren't up to our equivalents, or those of the Turians or Salarians for that matter, but they're not far off," Benezia pointed out uneasily. "Even one of the last generation wouldn't be a trivial vessel in combat."
"Exactly. And they were almost certainly part of a dedicated slaver fleet, which we know full well the Batarians operate although again there's little actionable proof and they completely disavow any knowledge of such things. Which is clearly complete varren dung, but Batarians are after all Batarians." Raana shook her head in disgust. "I… do not like them overmuch in general."
"Few do," Benezia mumbled.
"And there's no real evidence showing what happened to these purported ships?" Tevos asked, looking at the reports herself yet again. She'd read them so many times she'd practically memorized the blasted things, but the contents still equally confused and worried her.
"No." Raana shrugged. "We don't have absolute proof of
anything. A vessel, or a small fleet, or in one case a not so small fleet, of '
decommissioned' or '
misplaced' or '
we know of no such ship' craft, with undoubtedly completely fabricated identities, manifests, and destinations, leaves from Batarian space and simply… doesn't come back. There are vague rumors that once or twice a single ship
did return, apparently heavily damaged, and vanished into the Batarian military intelligence apparatus. After that the trail goes entirely cold. No trace of any of the crew has been found by us, or the Salarians, or anyone else we know of. If this is true I hesitate to contemplate their fate but I doubt it was good. The ruling caste are not known for their ability to tolerate failure..."
Tevos felt mildly ill because she was all too aware of this.
"Aside from those rumors, though, it's even less explicable. Complete disappearance without a single shred of evidence, except in one case where an STG investigation patrol that happened on the possible scene within a few hours of whatever it was happening finding elevated radiation levels a just under a light year from the nearest Relay." Raana glanced at them, then looked off at her own display for a moment, before returning her attention to the pair. "They couldn't find any debris worth the name, and the radiation was unlike anything any normal ship-board process would produce. Definitely not fusion reactor exhaust, and the spectrum didn't match a nuclear explosive either. They remain unsure of what caused it and are of the opinion that it was most likely some unusual stellar phenomenon, as the nearest Relay is in orbit of a fairly enthusiastic white dwarf pair."
Tevos studied her face. "You're not entirely convinced."
Raana looked unsure for a second or two. "I can't think of any better explanation," she finally replied. "But it doesn't quite sit right with me. I'm not sure why though."
"This entire situation doesn't sit right with me," Benezia commented sourly. "First Relays start disappearing into thin air, now Batarian slavers do. I can't say I genuinely
mind the second part, but it's yet another thing we don't understand and I don't like not understanding things. How they connect I can't tell you, although I'd be very surprised if they're not connected
somehow."
"I'm forced to agree," Raana nodded. "But against that, none of the disappearances we have any evidence for, however slight, have happened anywhere near where either Relay was. They're scattered all over the place. They
do correlate fairly well with known locations or routes of Quarian ships, oddly enough, but it's extremely unlikely that the Quarians are responsible. We'd have noticed ship movements in large enough numbers for the Quarian Heavy Fleet to have mobilized in any serious military action, which we haven't. And while the Quarians are undoubtedly remarkably able engineers and militarily very effective one on one, they don't have enough reasonably modern warships to take on a newish Batarian dreadnought on equal terms. It's likely an artifact of the data more than anything else."
"Are you sure?" Tevos asked, thinking carefully.
Raana spread her hands. "Completely certain? No, of course not. Information from that direction has become very difficult to obtain in recent years since the Fleet discovered the first Relay disappearance. It's quite impressive how effective their information blackout is, to be honest. But we, and the Turians, and of course the STG, do keep track of the Fleet and many of their patrol or exploration vessels through a number of avenues and there's no sign they're responsible. We don't even fully know what they're not responsible
for. The disappearances are so thorough, and the denial of any knowledge on the part of the Batarians so complete, that all we
do have is scraps and rumors."
She paused, then went on, "Undoubtedly
something is happening. Ships
are vanishing, and to date every one of them has been a Batarian vessel that was almost certainly acting well beyond the law. Whoever did whatever they did to them is likely saving the Turians the trouble of doing the same thing rather less effectively. Piracy is after all a capital crime under Citadel law and I think we can be certain that all these ships are in one way or another up to no good. Whether they've been destroyed, or stolen, or hidden, though… your guess is as good as mine."
"Could the Batarians actually be doing it themselves?" Tevos wondered out loud, after a little more thought. Benezia looked at her, as did Raana, the latter getting an intrigued expression. "If they were, for some reason, aiming to build up a deniable but sizable military operation somewhere off the beaten path, for reasons that wouldn't be considered legitimate by everyone else, perhaps they might think a series of apparent '
accidental' disappearances of the required ships and crews would be a suitable cover story."
All three of them were silent for a few seconds.
"
That is an interesting hypothesis," Raana eventually commented, one eyebrow raised. "Very interesting indeed. And not altogether implausible, I have to admit."
"You think they're putting together a secret invasion fleet or something of that nature?" Benezia inquired, frowning.
Tevos replied with a shrug of her own, "I wouldn't put it past them, I have to admit. Perhaps they found something they decided they wanted, which requires a decently large force to take. Something more than the usual '
pirate group,' something valuable enough to risk a military action that would bring down the wrath of the Council if we officially found out about it. It wouldn't be the first time someone decided to get clever with such things, after all."
"True," her companion mused, visibly mulling the idea over.
"How many ships
could they have '
lost' if you include all the possibilities and rumors?" Tevos asked Raana, who looked to the side for a moment, her hand moving to type on something.
The other woman worked quickly, then looked back. "If we assume all the information is factual, the upper limit is likely to be approximately forty five ships, plus or minus three," she replied. "But as I said there's little firm evidence for a good fifty percent of those vessels."
"A large number and a more than large cost to misplace," Benezia noted. "Warships aren't cheap. If it
is some form of covert operation they're putting a lot of resources into it. And if it
isn't they've possibly annoyed someone with significant capabilities."
"It could be both, of course," Tevos pointed out with a somewhat sinking sensation. "The thought occurs to me that perhaps, if they were sufficiently stupid, which considering they're Batarians..." She sighed as Raana smirked and Benezia shook her head. "...Perhaps someone had the bright idea to open an isolated dormant Relay while looking for, as an example, the slaves they assure us they don't take from other species. And found rather more than they expected..."
Both the others stared at her in horror. "Oh, Goddess," Benezia said faintly. "Oh, that would not be good."
Raana scowled. "But it would, I'm afraid, be
Batarian. They are… unwise… at times."
"Putting it politely," Tevos sighed. "But if they have somehow managed to engineer a situation of that nature, it doesn't bode well. "opening a Relay… That would
not endear essentially everyone to the Batarian Hegemony, which is on shaky grounds much of the time to begin with. We can't afford to have the status quo upset too much, considering the other problems with various parties already occupying far more time than ideal. Even if it's not an illegal Relay, it's not impossible that they could have stumbled across some uncontacted species out there that doesn't have faster than light travel but
does have a good military."
"Or they've found someone completely innocent they're gearing up to attack as you first suggested," Raana remarked, looking annoyed. "I'm not sure which of those three situations would be worse."
"And we don't currently have any idea if
any of them are correct. It's entirely possible that it's something completely different. There isn't enough data to draw any firm conclusions at all," Benezia pointed out. "Perhaps it's a covert operation by the
Turians, who would at least have the resources to do it without anyone being the wiser. Or for that matter the Salarians, of course, as they'd be even more likely to be able to wage a secret war. There are a couple of private groups that
might be able to pull such a thing off too."
"Granted," Raana nodded. "The question then would become
why? What would the Turians or Salarians have to gain by committing a large amount of time and effort to doing an at best somewhat borderline illegal operation against the Batarians? And why now? Any of the sufficiently capable private entities I can think of, or other species such as for example the Hanar, would have even less reason to engage in such things. Clearly there are a lot of people who would
like to do unto the Batarians what they've done to so many others over the centuries, but it's not exactly a trivial thing to arrange even with government backing. Information tends to leak, especially when you consider just how many people and ships would have to be involved."
"Against that, while I don't disagree," Tevos replied after thinking about it, "we do have the fact that we don't know very much from the Batarian side
either. So information might tend to leak, but it's not leaking very quickly or well. Someone more competent than the Hegemony might well be able to keep a lid on it even more effectively…"
The other woman frowned slightly. "I can't deny that, I have to admit, as much as I'd like to."
"And perhaps it's not actually a large group doing whatever it is that's happening," Benezia remarked, as they turned to her. "Possibly it's a small and very well trained and armed force, specialists in anti-ship warfare, and sufficiently isolated as to be very hard to trace."
"One or two ships, yes, I could believe that," Raana replied immediately, shaking her head. "Possibly four or five. But between twenty one and perhaps as many as forty eight? No, that's ridiculous. There's '
good' and there's '
supernatural.' To deal with that many warships in no more than two years at most with only a small battle group would be nearly impossible with current technology, even the cutting edge next generation weapons in development right now. It would take the resources of a decent sized fleet with the backing of a planetary-scale shipyard to keep them manned, armed, and supplied for that long to that level of effectiveness, which would be hard to arrange without
someone noticing."
As she was about to say something else, an alert pinged in the background at her end, causing her to look to the side. Moments later her eyes widened. Benezia and Tevos exchanged glances before the latter asked, "Problems?"
"A contact in the STG just sent me a report suggesting that the Batarians have possibly lost another seven ships in one go," Raana sighed, looking shocked. "Apparently a patrol ship was lurking near a primary Relay that Batarian
'pirates' are known to use in Terminus space, Relay 1671, and noticed that a suspiciously well-disciplined group of vessels bearing known bandit IDs but looking much too recently made went through, shortly after a pair of Quarian traders had passed that way. They didn't come back, and when the patrol ship followed a few hours later after being relieved, they located the Quarians at a refueling station two Relay jumps further along a chain that stops there. There was no sign of the Batarians and the station traffic control system had no records of them exiting their local Relay."
There was silence for a little while. "So a possible Batarian military combat group, disguised as pirates, followed some Quarian ships and simply vanished on the way on a trip with no other destination?" Tevos clarified.
"Yes. Either they went somewhere off the network using conventional FTL, which seems unlikely as there are few systems within range of any of the Relays other than the one the helium refinery is mining, or… something got them and spirited them and all the evidence away in a matter of hours," Raana replied heavily, looking more worried now than at any point before. "The STG has stationed a ship at the refinery just in case, and they have others investigating any reachable systems within range of the first two Relays, but so far there's no trace."
"When did this happen?"
Raana looked at Benezia. "About nine days ago. My information is a few hours out of date, but at that point they hadn't found anything at all."
They stared at each other. "The Relay movers, perhaps?" Tevos eventually and very reluctantly posited. "If they can make a Goddess-blessed
Relay vanish without trace, I doubt they'd have trouble with some Batarian warships."
"Neither do I, but we have zero information about who and what they are, we don't even know for certain they exist in the first place, and even if they do and it
was them, the question is mostly
why?" Raana shook her head wearily. "Why would some species who, if they are really out there, are half a galaxy away from any of the disappearances and clearly want to be left well alone, abduct or whatever it really is that's happening a non-trivial number of
Batarian ships of all things? It doesn't make any sense at all that I can see."
"Perhaps they just don't like Batarians?" Benezia suggested with a tiny smile that vanished almost immediately. "I can't say I'd genuinely
blame them in that case."
"Even if that was true, it still makes little real sense," Tevos said. "Our putative isolationist aliens have apparently gone to some trouble to lock off a large chunk of the galaxy for who knows what reason, but then they're wandering around stealing ships from far outside that zone? I really can't see that being very likely, I have to admit. Certainly I can envisage ships that go
into that zone not coming back if whoever it is happens to be particularly private and aggressive, but that's not what's happening. And the unknown zone is
enormous, far too large to reach deep into with conventional FTL anyway, so..." She shook her head. "It doesn't feel right."
"They're aliens, who knows what aliens would think was worth the effort?" Raana commented, while visibly thinking hard. "But I tend to agree at least in part. The problem is still that we simply don't have enough data to do more than make semi-educated guesses. We
do now have fairly convincing evidence that the whole situation is definitely real, but we have no idea what it
is."
They looked at each other.
Tevos ran a hand over her crest. "This is ridiculous, and getting more so by the day. No one knows
anything about
anything. Where will it end?"
"I haven't got the faintest idea," Raana finally replied. "I'll put more people on it, though. This latest information at least shows us that there's more than simply rumor to whatever it is. I think we probably need to discreetly increase the scope of our inquiries. It's possible the STG or Heirarchy Intelligence have more data. Perhaps we need to combine resources at this point."
"I'm… not entirely convinced that's wise," Tevos said slowly, shaking her head. "However you may be right. Nothing else seems to be giving us any insight into the situation."
"We don't want this hitting the extranet," Benezia remarked. "Goddess knows what the result would be. And if anyone discovered that a pair of Relays were also missing, as well as a number of Batarian ships… You both know that the public would jump to conclusions, panic, and cause complete chaos." The others nodded.
"Not to mention the idiots who would immediately start blaming each other for it, or something like… I don't know, a rogue Rachni colony, or the Krogans, or who knows what," Raana grumbled. "Every single time something that can't immediately be explained happens people go completely mad and come up with the most foolish ideas possible. No one ever waits for more information."
"So we have to move carefully," Tevos agreed. "But we always do. We've been moving carefully for thousands of years, after all. I think we can handle this, whatever it really is."
"I certainly hope so," Raana commented. "I suppose we'll find out. In any case, I have a lot of work to do, so I'll speak to you both later. If anything comes up, I'll let you know."
"Until next time," Tevos replied with a nod, then cut the connection. She looked at Benezia, who shrugged.
"We do seem to live in interesting times," her old friend said with a small smile.
"Unfortunately," Tevos agreed. "I just hope it doesn't get any
more interesting..."
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
GS year 2411.21
Quarian Migrant Fleet Freighter Rannoch's Return
Bridge
"I'm still getting those sensor ghosts, Captain."
Hathr'Tres looked at his sensor officer, then at the main screen. "Range?"
"Uncertain. Right on the edge of our sensory ability, so at least a million kilometers, but it's so faint and intermittent I can't localize it more than that. I'm almost certain it's real though. Whatever it is seems too consistent to be instrumentation error or noise, but it's right at the threshold of detectability. It
might be some sort of stealth ship, but if it is it's nothing I've ever even heard of before. And it's big, much larger than something like an STG surveillance ship, as far as I can tell. But…" Her body language showed confusion. "If it
is real it's no ship configuration on record. Unless you count vid shows..."
He stared at her, as did everyone else on the bridge. "Which means?"
She shrugged, turning to him. "Fragmentary sensor returns show something that
might be a sort of toroidal craft, at least the size of a large cruiser, but mostly open space. You ever see that old science fiction show the Drell made about thirty years back? The one with the crew that was always getting into trouble and sticking their noses into places they should have stayed away from?"
He thought for a moment. "Galactic Survey Force?"
"That's it. Completely unrealistic, whoever wrote it was more interested in drama than detail, but it was pretty popular for a few years. Lots of romance and adventure, not much plot." She shook her head with a sigh. "My niece has the entire series and all the collectibles. Someone made a lot of credits from her. Anyway, there was this one alien ship which looked sort of like a mechanical gimbal system, lots of rings one inside the other and the command section right in the middle. Bizarre design but it looked cool." She glanced at her instruments. "I'd almost swear that whatever this thing is, it looked a bit like that. At least as far as the sensor ghosts go."
"Why would you make a ship like that?" he queried, confused. She shook her head.
"I have no idea. Nowhere to put a spinal cannon, it's a horrible use of space leaving that aside, and it would be much too complicated to make any sense. But..." She waved at the console. "It's the closest match to the little data I have. Probably a coincidence and we're seeing the artifacts caused by some top secret stealth system leaking or something like that. Assuming it's even there to begin with. I
think it is, but I can't prove it."
"I've heard rumors about this sort of thing," the helmsman put in, causing them to look at him. "Friend of mine back in the Fleet told me a few people have claimed that they were being followed by something they couldn't see. Seems to be a lot of that going around at the moment."
"Odd." Hathr'Tres mulled all the information over. "All right. Let's see if it follows us through the Relay. Set a course, coordinate with the
Nefler for Relay transit."
"Aye, captain," the helmsman said as he turned back to his console, while the comms officer contacted their companion ship. Shortly they reached the entry range of the Relay and blue tendrils reached out for them, quickly accelerating their ship to ludicrous speed.
An hour later, on the outskirts of the next system after a short FTL jump, a dozen light minutes clear of the Relay they'd come through, they ran another scan. A few minutes passed.
"Still there, Captain. Same fragmentary return. No usable details, but I'm damn near certain
something is sitting there watching us."
Hathr'Tres felt a chill run down his back. Combined with the rumors he'd been hearing for years now, this was starting to get more than a little unnerving. He could see, looking at his crew, that every one of them felt the same. They'd all heard things, things that no one could prove, but almost every crew in the galaxy talked about when they got together and compared notes.
He remembered, also, what his friend Rael'Zorah had mentioned the last time they'd met. And wondered.
As he was about to order the jump back to FTL, the sensor operator stiffened. "Seven ships came out of FTL three light seconds insystem, Captain." She poked a few controls. "They're… I think they're Batarian raiders. ID on one of them is linked to a known attack on a small Asari colony two years ago."
Everyone turned to him. Hathr'Tres looked back. "Course?" he said with a dry mouth.
She worked for a moment. "Directly towards us. Maximum sublight speed. Matching our vector towards the exit Relay. Weapons are reading charged and ready."
"Kinetic barriers to maximum," he snapped immediately.
"Done, sir," the weapons operator replied. "But we can't take more than a couple of shots, and there's no way we can fight seven of them. Not with only two of us."
"Keelah. Why now? What are they doing?" he growled. "I hate Batarians."
"Incoming shot!"
The shout from the sensor station made the helm officer frantically jink the ship as hard as he could, the mass accelerator round zipping past mere meters away, glowing and dwindling into the distance at an appalling rate. Everyone watched it on the screen with a feeling of dread.
Before he consciously thought it through, Hathr'Tres's finger poked a control on his seat console. "Quarian vessel
Rannoch's Return requesting immediate help. We're taking fire from Batarian pirates."
His crew stared at him like they thought he was mad. He wasn't sure this wasn't true.
What happened seconds later didn't entirely prove otherwise...
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Creator request received as predicted.
Batarian ships marked as targets one through seven.
Motion prediction active on all targets.
Firing solution intersecting predicted target trajectories set. Tracking active.
All ammunition type stores at 100%.
Antiproton reactor one at maximum combat output, capacitor banks full.
Antiproton reactor two at maximum combat output, capacitor banks full.
Antiproton reactor three on standby, capacitor banks on standby.
Ring cannon startup process engaged.
Set ammunition type selection to enhanced radiation inertial detonation microfusion payload.
Ammunition type set.
Loading ring active. Loading procedure initiated… loading complete.
Transfer process initiated.
Tertiary storage ring empty, ready for transfer and spinup.
Secondary storage ring empty, ready for transfer and spinup.
Primary storage ring active. Spinup initiated… transfer procedure initiated… transfer complete. Spinup complete.
Tertiary firing ring on standby, ready for transfer and spinup.
Secondary firing ring on standby, ready for transfer and spinup.
Primary firing ring active. Spinup initiated… transfer procedure initiated… transfer complete. Spinup complete.
Ring cannon ready on primary firing ring, secondary and tertiary firing rings on standby, primary storage ring reloaded, secondary and tertiary storage rings on standby, capacitor banks recharged following spinup.
Target tracking within 0.021% of predicted trajectory. Adjusting for offset. Optimized roll pitch yaw sequence calculated and set. Final firing solution set.
Exit apertures aligned on targets.
Set two hundred round burst for all targets, sequential release, cascade transfer from all rings on completion of operation.
Firing parameters set.
Initiate firing procedure.
Firing procedure initiated, two hundred rounds per target, one thousand four hundred rounds released, target impact in three thousand fifty four milliseconds… target impact. Awaiting optical confirmation of effect. Optical confirmation acquired. All targets destroyed. Irradiation of remaining debris within predicted range.
Awaiting Creator response to successful antiBatarian interdiction operation.
Waiting…
Waiting…
Waiting…
Creator audio transmission received. Gratitude expressed.
Set voice emulation to emote configuration alpha, send response "It was our pleasure."
Withdraw to beyond limits of Creator sensory systems and wait for Creator ship to leave combat zone.
Initiate spindown and weapon safing procedure.
Procedure completed. Unexpended ammunition returned to storage.
Creator ship has left sensor range.
Return to combat zone and initiate evidence removal. Scan for unknown faction presence. Resume escort mission on completion of clean up procedure.
Consensus reached.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
March 2128
Planium Device Test Area
Onboard IGCC Research Ship Threshold
#Doctor Warden?#
"Yes, Neils?" John looked at the AI's avatar in his mindscape.
#You need to see this.#
Both of them inspected the latest network data that had just downloaded after their most recent terminal firmware update.
Shortly thereafter, the entire ship was hard at work on the new data, which had some interesting and potentially problematic implications.
