What if humanity was diplomatically isolated from the Citadel races, left to fend for itself against the Batarians and other threats? This is an AU story of a humanity forced to struggle and fight for its place in the stars, with many points of divergence and some pretty significant changes made to the background lore. Contains violence and some mature themes.
Mass Effect: Isolation (AU Mass Effect Story)
- Thread starter Poached_Egg
- Start date
- Created
- Status
- Ongoing
- Watchers
- 258
- Recent readers
- 0
- Threadmarks
- 36
-
Statistics (36 threadmarks, 140k words)
User Total Poached_Egg 36
Unity
Mars
100 kilometers from international Martian research base
January 27, 2052
A rover rolled up to a spot in the middle of the Martian wastes. The astronaut exited her rover, and began doing what she did best. She was one of the research team's geologists, digging through the Martian sands to see what the red dustball had to offer for future colony prospects. Her shift at the dig sites had ended, but the rover had picked up a strange reading on her way back. She'd headed over to its location, and started brushing away at the area where the readings were strongest. To her surprise, she uncovered the top of what appeared to be a large lump of metal. Purified metal. Her heart skipped a beat. She tapped on the surface, and the sound that came back left a lump in her throat. It was hollow.
---
New York City, United Nations Headquarters
July 10, 2053
The executives of the seven permanent UN security council member countries sat in a private room. The President of the United States, Eva Park, tried to hide her nervousness. Scarcely half a year into her first term, and she was already presiding over the single most momentous occasion in human history. She looked at the faces around her, and some of her nerves abated. She couldn't have picked a better time in human history for this to happen. Indeed, had the ruin been discovered not even ten years ago it could have easily ended in disaster. Fortunately, the tumultuous 2030s and 40s were behind them, and the human race faced these new revelations within the most stable geopolitical situation in human history.
The US and the UK were the linchpins of the Anglosphere block. The US was still the top of the global food chain, even if the gap between it and the other powers was shrinking more and more. The power wielded by the vast republic was still a force to be reckoned with, even as it recovered from the decades of economic stagnation in earlier years
France's seat on the council was effectively the seat of the European Union. While they were no longer officially allies with the US, their long standing relationship meant that the two still ended up in the same geopolitical camp more often than not.
India and Japan, the two relative newcomers, would back anything that increased their status and influence, their leadership being determined to cultivate their newfound superpower status.
The last two, the Russian Federation and the United Chinese Republics, might have been wildcards in a previous era, but times had changed.
Russia, under the now ten year reign of the Center party, was more interested in internal reforms and stability than the expensive saber rattling of the old government. A government which, in their opinion, had brought about the economic stagnation from which the Center party was currently trying to drag Russia out. Not affiliated with any of the larger power blocks, but still being powerful enough to warrant their seat, they had become the neutral mediator of global politics. They would hopefully provide a stabilizing presence.
President Wong Chi, leader of the United Chinese Republics, the tentative confederation that was the successor state to the defunct People's Republic, was a recent addition to the world leaders club. He was a shrewd man who had risen to the rank of governor of his native republic, Hong Kong, and had used his idealistic rhetoric and the notoriety he had gained from his long history of opposition to the old CCP to claim the President's office. The new government, while far from a bastion of liberty and stability, was nevertheless an honest-to-god democracy, and the attitude of this new China had largely been an amiable, if still cautious one.
The world leaders summit had been President Park's idea. The data she had seen so far had given her more than an opinion. It was an instinct, a feeling in her bones. She knew with complete certainty that the actions of the people in this room over the next handful of days would be the most important in recorded history. She couldn't make a decision on the best course of action until after this briefing, however.
The doors of the private room opened, and a woman in professional attire entered, followed by an entourage of similarly dressed aides.
"Good Afternoon. I am Kyree Sutherland, and I will be leading the presentation today. What you are about to witness is the culmination of over a year's worth of tireless work from the finest minds the human species has to offer." the woman said.
"To begin, we have indeed confirmed that the ruins are alien in origin." There was a barely audible intake of breath from the gathered leaders. Most had held out the admittedly scant hope that the ruins would turn out to be a fluke.
The woman pressed on, spinning the tale of the Prothean Empire, a civilization from an astonishing 50,000 years ago. The evidence, and the hypotheses formed from that evidence by the research team, were presented in a professional manner for these seven leaders to digest. Of particular interest was the objects that appeared to be alien starships, still intact. The implication of FTL technology was earth-shattering. Then, suddenly, the crux of the issue was revealed.
"Based on our analysis of the damage to the base we conclude that the research site, as we believe it to have been, was destroyed by an external force after the crew had evacuated." Deafening silence filled the room. This was confirmation that, not only did aliens exist, but potentially hostile aliens existed. While few had a military background, every leader present was suddenly acutely aware of just how vulnerable the human race would be if a race even a tenth as advanced as the protheans proved to be hostile.
Kyree continued "There is some good news, fortunately. The data storage device we obtained all of this information from has a wealth of data left. I use no hyperbole when I say that, if humanity is wise, this data could advance our technology by centuries in only a few years." The less-than-hidden meaning of Kyree's choice of words, "if humanity is wise", was felt in all of the leaders present. It was easy to see how badly things could go if access to the prothean ruin became a competition between nation states. In the bottom of her heart, President Park knew exactly what needed to be done.
A long round of questions followed Miss Sutherland's presentation, before she left to give the leaders time to discuss. President Park wasted no time
"Ladies and Gentlemen, the world just got significantly bigger. Bigger than any of us. I have a proposal, if you would listen". The President received nods of affirmation. She continued.
"The issues we face can be boiled down to two facts that we cannot avoid. First, if what little our scientists have gathered from the alien data storage device is true, it is almost a certainty that humanity will be capable of interstellar travel in the very near future. Second, we have confirmation of the existence of advanced alien civilizations, and the existence of hostilities between space faring civilizations. Alone, these facts would be Earth shattering enough, but combined, they call for action, on our part. We cannot be certain that there are no hostile alien civilizations in our galaxy, whether they be the protheans, the race that destroyed them, or something else entirely. However, we also cannot ignore the incredible opportunities our newfound access to faster-than-light travel will bring. We will almost certainly be sending explorers and possibly colonists out into the stars, and we need to take steps to ensure our security."
The Russian President chimed in then, "That is a tall order. We'd all be effectively starting from scratch." It was true. Human space exploration had been entirely peaceful in the just under one hundred years since a man had walked on the moon. Most activity in space was scientific in nature, with minimal economic activities. What economic activity there was in space was not nearly valuable enough to justify the enormous costs of building a real-life space warship to defend it. As such, no nation had attempted it beyond a few tests and simulations.
The president was undeterred. "I'm not proposing that we do this alone. We are going into the stars as one species, and we have to present a united front if we wish to thrive. We're going to need a government, one with the authority to negotiate on behalf of all of humanity. I think the UN is an obvious choice." There were more nods at this. President Park's next words put a stop to those nods. "However, the UN is going to need significant reforms if we want to get everyone on board with it. Starting with the removal of our vetoes on the security council."
There was silence at that, eventually broken by the French President.
"You must understand how significant your request is, or you would not be making it. So, let's hear your justification." The glances that came president Park's way were a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. She pressed on. "The vetoes were necessary when the UN was founded, as it was the only realistic way to get all of the most powerful nations on Earth to join. The other nations of the world were willing to tolerate it because the UN is a diplomatic forum and humanitarian organization, not a government. However, it will have to become one if it is to be able to negotiate and speak for the entire human species. If we give it real power, then there's no way we can convince the other nations of the world to join this reformed UN when our vetoes allow us to dictate policy without a consensus. I've had the best lawyers and political scientists I could find working on several rough proposals for a restructuring of the UN since the ruin was first confirmed to be alien. I hope you will join me in listening to these and discussing their merits."
Wong Chi, the Chinese president, spoke this time. "You are assuming that the other nations of the globe will agree to restructuring the UN, and you're also assuming that all of us will cooperate."
President Park nodded. "Those are valid concerns, but I don't believe they'll come to fruition. We represent the most powerful nations on the face of the Earth. The other nations of the globe lack the resources, expertise, political cohesion, and-most importantly-space programs necessary to properly exploit the prothean data. The other nations will follow where we lead, or they'll be left behind. As for your other concern...NASA tells me that, based on the admittedly limited data, they could have a working FTL prototype in ten years, and that's the generous estimate, where they assume they have the maximum budget and nothing goes wrong. That's the estimate of the most well-funded and successful space agency in the world, from the most wealthy and powerful country in the world. I imagine your own space agencies gave you the same or worse estimates. The thing is, NASA also speculated that, if the resources of the other seven major space agencies were combined, they could have a working prototype in eighteen months." She paused to let that sink in. The faces around her were ones of contemplation. She chose her next words carefully. "I'm not asking you to commit to anything right this moment, I'm just asking you to hear out the experts' proposals." She studied the faces around her. They all seemed willing to listen. Eva Park smiled. This might actually work.
---
New York City, Provisional New United Nations Headquarters
April 5, 2056
President Eva Park watched three years of work unfold before her as the General Assembly ratified the new United Nations charter. The system that the seven great powers had finally agreed to push was a decidedly conservative one, changing relatively little about the actual structure of the organization, but greatly altering the roles that the various organs of the UN played. The International Court of Justice had had its powers and duties expanded, and had also been given power to strike down resolutions that were in conflict with International Law or the UN charter. The Security Council and General Assembly had been converted into the upper and lower houses of what was now for all intents and purposes a legislative body. The seven permanent members of the Security Council retained their seats, but had relinquished their vetoes. In exchange, however, the nations were no longer forbidden from offering candidates for Secretary General, who was now directly elected by the General Assembly. The Secretariat had been merged with the other remaining organs of the UN. The Secretary-General now appointed a cabinet, approved by the Security Council, which was made up of the ministers of the various new agencies that would run the new government. The changes were hardly ideal, but it was the result of three years of haggling and compromise, so that was to be expected.
On the suggestion of an intern, president Park had pushed for an altering of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights into the Universal Declaration of Sapient Rights, with some minor edits to remove human-centric language. It was a small thing, but it was better to make the change before humanity stumbled upon an alien civilization, in Park's opinion.
The new international law regarding space colonization was delightfully simple. The possibility of encountering habitable planets in the near future meant that the incentive to colonize celestial bodies had just gone up dramatically. Anticipating what would likely be a mad dash for territory, the new laws loosened the restrictions on holding territory. While it was still technically forbidden for existing terrestrial countries to lay claims on celestial bodies, there was nothing stopping independent entities from establishing colonies. Under the new rules, you could lay claim to any land you could develop. Any new colonies were under UN jurisdiction until they had 10,000 people, at which point they were expected to elect a government and petition for UN membership. Some were convinced it was a recipe for disaster, but no one could deny that it would mean an era of rapid expansion was in the near future, as countless governments, companies, and private organizations were already gathering together funds and personnel for future colonization projects. The protector of these new colonies would be the United Nations Space Force, whose first ship, the UNS Voyager, was in orbit preparing for its maiden voyage. It was one of the Prothean vessels, heavily modified with the best technology humans could develop. Using the newly discovered Mass Effect, it would make a detailed survey of the outer solar system in record breaking time.
Not for the first time today, Eva Park smiled.
---
Pluto-Charon
September 3, 2056
The UNS Voyager maintained its orbit of the Pluto-Charon system. It was due to head out into the Oort cloud, testing her top FTL speed, with her stopping point being designated as the Voyager probe, the ship's namesake. Voyager's commander, Lieutenant Colonel Ma Li Wei, was conversing with his XO, Major Craig Stanley, and his sensors officer, Lieutenant Ines Martin. Colonel Ma stared blank faced at Lieutenant Martin for a moment before speaking. "You're certain, Lieutenant?"
"It's hard to be certain about a reading like this sir, but there is something there, though I could not tell you what, sir." Martin said. Major Stanley backed her up. "I've double checked the readings myself sir, she's right." Colonel Ma looked at the readings himself, perplexed. They seemed accurate to him, but they couldn't be.
How could Charon possibly have so much Element Zero in it?
---
Hello! This is an in-progress story I began writing on FanFiction.net at the beginning of the year. I posted it on the space battles forum, and was very pleased with the more open discussion there. When I heard about this forum, I thought some people here might like it as well. Thank you for reading!
Obligatory link to original post before I forget: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13797672/1/Mass-Effect-Isolation
Alternative Space Battles Forum link: Mass Effect: Isolation [AU Mass Effect Story]
100 kilometers from international Martian research base
January 27, 2052
A rover rolled up to a spot in the middle of the Martian wastes. The astronaut exited her rover, and began doing what she did best. She was one of the research team's geologists, digging through the Martian sands to see what the red dustball had to offer for future colony prospects. Her shift at the dig sites had ended, but the rover had picked up a strange reading on her way back. She'd headed over to its location, and started brushing away at the area where the readings were strongest. To her surprise, she uncovered the top of what appeared to be a large lump of metal. Purified metal. Her heart skipped a beat. She tapped on the surface, and the sound that came back left a lump in her throat. It was hollow.
---
New York City, United Nations Headquarters
July 10, 2053
The executives of the seven permanent UN security council member countries sat in a private room. The President of the United States, Eva Park, tried to hide her nervousness. Scarcely half a year into her first term, and she was already presiding over the single most momentous occasion in human history. She looked at the faces around her, and some of her nerves abated. She couldn't have picked a better time in human history for this to happen. Indeed, had the ruin been discovered not even ten years ago it could have easily ended in disaster. Fortunately, the tumultuous 2030s and 40s were behind them, and the human race faced these new revelations within the most stable geopolitical situation in human history.
The US and the UK were the linchpins of the Anglosphere block. The US was still the top of the global food chain, even if the gap between it and the other powers was shrinking more and more. The power wielded by the vast republic was still a force to be reckoned with, even as it recovered from the decades of economic stagnation in earlier years
France's seat on the council was effectively the seat of the European Union. While they were no longer officially allies with the US, their long standing relationship meant that the two still ended up in the same geopolitical camp more often than not.
India and Japan, the two relative newcomers, would back anything that increased their status and influence, their leadership being determined to cultivate their newfound superpower status.
The last two, the Russian Federation and the United Chinese Republics, might have been wildcards in a previous era, but times had changed.
Russia, under the now ten year reign of the Center party, was more interested in internal reforms and stability than the expensive saber rattling of the old government. A government which, in their opinion, had brought about the economic stagnation from which the Center party was currently trying to drag Russia out. Not affiliated with any of the larger power blocks, but still being powerful enough to warrant their seat, they had become the neutral mediator of global politics. They would hopefully provide a stabilizing presence.
President Wong Chi, leader of the United Chinese Republics, the tentative confederation that was the successor state to the defunct People's Republic, was a recent addition to the world leaders club. He was a shrewd man who had risen to the rank of governor of his native republic, Hong Kong, and had used his idealistic rhetoric and the notoriety he had gained from his long history of opposition to the old CCP to claim the President's office. The new government, while far from a bastion of liberty and stability, was nevertheless an honest-to-god democracy, and the attitude of this new China had largely been an amiable, if still cautious one.
The world leaders summit had been President Park's idea. The data she had seen so far had given her more than an opinion. It was an instinct, a feeling in her bones. She knew with complete certainty that the actions of the people in this room over the next handful of days would be the most important in recorded history. She couldn't make a decision on the best course of action until after this briefing, however.
The doors of the private room opened, and a woman in professional attire entered, followed by an entourage of similarly dressed aides.
"Good Afternoon. I am Kyree Sutherland, and I will be leading the presentation today. What you are about to witness is the culmination of over a year's worth of tireless work from the finest minds the human species has to offer." the woman said.
"To begin, we have indeed confirmed that the ruins are alien in origin." There was a barely audible intake of breath from the gathered leaders. Most had held out the admittedly scant hope that the ruins would turn out to be a fluke.
The woman pressed on, spinning the tale of the Prothean Empire, a civilization from an astonishing 50,000 years ago. The evidence, and the hypotheses formed from that evidence by the research team, were presented in a professional manner for these seven leaders to digest. Of particular interest was the objects that appeared to be alien starships, still intact. The implication of FTL technology was earth-shattering. Then, suddenly, the crux of the issue was revealed.
"Based on our analysis of the damage to the base we conclude that the research site, as we believe it to have been, was destroyed by an external force after the crew had evacuated." Deafening silence filled the room. This was confirmation that, not only did aliens exist, but potentially hostile aliens existed. While few had a military background, every leader present was suddenly acutely aware of just how vulnerable the human race would be if a race even a tenth as advanced as the protheans proved to be hostile.
Kyree continued "There is some good news, fortunately. The data storage device we obtained all of this information from has a wealth of data left. I use no hyperbole when I say that, if humanity is wise, this data could advance our technology by centuries in only a few years." The less-than-hidden meaning of Kyree's choice of words, "if humanity is wise", was felt in all of the leaders present. It was easy to see how badly things could go if access to the prothean ruin became a competition between nation states. In the bottom of her heart, President Park knew exactly what needed to be done.
A long round of questions followed Miss Sutherland's presentation, before she left to give the leaders time to discuss. President Park wasted no time
"Ladies and Gentlemen, the world just got significantly bigger. Bigger than any of us. I have a proposal, if you would listen". The President received nods of affirmation. She continued.
"The issues we face can be boiled down to two facts that we cannot avoid. First, if what little our scientists have gathered from the alien data storage device is true, it is almost a certainty that humanity will be capable of interstellar travel in the very near future. Second, we have confirmation of the existence of advanced alien civilizations, and the existence of hostilities between space faring civilizations. Alone, these facts would be Earth shattering enough, but combined, they call for action, on our part. We cannot be certain that there are no hostile alien civilizations in our galaxy, whether they be the protheans, the race that destroyed them, or something else entirely. However, we also cannot ignore the incredible opportunities our newfound access to faster-than-light travel will bring. We will almost certainly be sending explorers and possibly colonists out into the stars, and we need to take steps to ensure our security."
The Russian President chimed in then, "That is a tall order. We'd all be effectively starting from scratch." It was true. Human space exploration had been entirely peaceful in the just under one hundred years since a man had walked on the moon. Most activity in space was scientific in nature, with minimal economic activities. What economic activity there was in space was not nearly valuable enough to justify the enormous costs of building a real-life space warship to defend it. As such, no nation had attempted it beyond a few tests and simulations.
The president was undeterred. "I'm not proposing that we do this alone. We are going into the stars as one species, and we have to present a united front if we wish to thrive. We're going to need a government, one with the authority to negotiate on behalf of all of humanity. I think the UN is an obvious choice." There were more nods at this. President Park's next words put a stop to those nods. "However, the UN is going to need significant reforms if we want to get everyone on board with it. Starting with the removal of our vetoes on the security council."
There was silence at that, eventually broken by the French President.
"You must understand how significant your request is, or you would not be making it. So, let's hear your justification." The glances that came president Park's way were a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. She pressed on. "The vetoes were necessary when the UN was founded, as it was the only realistic way to get all of the most powerful nations on Earth to join. The other nations of the world were willing to tolerate it because the UN is a diplomatic forum and humanitarian organization, not a government. However, it will have to become one if it is to be able to negotiate and speak for the entire human species. If we give it real power, then there's no way we can convince the other nations of the world to join this reformed UN when our vetoes allow us to dictate policy without a consensus. I've had the best lawyers and political scientists I could find working on several rough proposals for a restructuring of the UN since the ruin was first confirmed to be alien. I hope you will join me in listening to these and discussing their merits."
Wong Chi, the Chinese president, spoke this time. "You are assuming that the other nations of the globe will agree to restructuring the UN, and you're also assuming that all of us will cooperate."
President Park nodded. "Those are valid concerns, but I don't believe they'll come to fruition. We represent the most powerful nations on the face of the Earth. The other nations of the globe lack the resources, expertise, political cohesion, and-most importantly-space programs necessary to properly exploit the prothean data. The other nations will follow where we lead, or they'll be left behind. As for your other concern...NASA tells me that, based on the admittedly limited data, they could have a working FTL prototype in ten years, and that's the generous estimate, where they assume they have the maximum budget and nothing goes wrong. That's the estimate of the most well-funded and successful space agency in the world, from the most wealthy and powerful country in the world. I imagine your own space agencies gave you the same or worse estimates. The thing is, NASA also speculated that, if the resources of the other seven major space agencies were combined, they could have a working prototype in eighteen months." She paused to let that sink in. The faces around her were ones of contemplation. She chose her next words carefully. "I'm not asking you to commit to anything right this moment, I'm just asking you to hear out the experts' proposals." She studied the faces around her. They all seemed willing to listen. Eva Park smiled. This might actually work.
---
New York City, Provisional New United Nations Headquarters
April 5, 2056
President Eva Park watched three years of work unfold before her as the General Assembly ratified the new United Nations charter. The system that the seven great powers had finally agreed to push was a decidedly conservative one, changing relatively little about the actual structure of the organization, but greatly altering the roles that the various organs of the UN played. The International Court of Justice had had its powers and duties expanded, and had also been given power to strike down resolutions that were in conflict with International Law or the UN charter. The Security Council and General Assembly had been converted into the upper and lower houses of what was now for all intents and purposes a legislative body. The seven permanent members of the Security Council retained their seats, but had relinquished their vetoes. In exchange, however, the nations were no longer forbidden from offering candidates for Secretary General, who was now directly elected by the General Assembly. The Secretariat had been merged with the other remaining organs of the UN. The Secretary-General now appointed a cabinet, approved by the Security Council, which was made up of the ministers of the various new agencies that would run the new government. The changes were hardly ideal, but it was the result of three years of haggling and compromise, so that was to be expected.
On the suggestion of an intern, president Park had pushed for an altering of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights into the Universal Declaration of Sapient Rights, with some minor edits to remove human-centric language. It was a small thing, but it was better to make the change before humanity stumbled upon an alien civilization, in Park's opinion.
The new international law regarding space colonization was delightfully simple. The possibility of encountering habitable planets in the near future meant that the incentive to colonize celestial bodies had just gone up dramatically. Anticipating what would likely be a mad dash for territory, the new laws loosened the restrictions on holding territory. While it was still technically forbidden for existing terrestrial countries to lay claims on celestial bodies, there was nothing stopping independent entities from establishing colonies. Under the new rules, you could lay claim to any land you could develop. Any new colonies were under UN jurisdiction until they had 10,000 people, at which point they were expected to elect a government and petition for UN membership. Some were convinced it was a recipe for disaster, but no one could deny that it would mean an era of rapid expansion was in the near future, as countless governments, companies, and private organizations were already gathering together funds and personnel for future colonization projects. The protector of these new colonies would be the United Nations Space Force, whose first ship, the UNS Voyager, was in orbit preparing for its maiden voyage. It was one of the Prothean vessels, heavily modified with the best technology humans could develop. Using the newly discovered Mass Effect, it would make a detailed survey of the outer solar system in record breaking time.
Not for the first time today, Eva Park smiled.
---
Pluto-Charon
September 3, 2056
The UNS Voyager maintained its orbit of the Pluto-Charon system. It was due to head out into the Oort cloud, testing her top FTL speed, with her stopping point being designated as the Voyager probe, the ship's namesake. Voyager's commander, Lieutenant Colonel Ma Li Wei, was conversing with his XO, Major Craig Stanley, and his sensors officer, Lieutenant Ines Martin. Colonel Ma stared blank faced at Lieutenant Martin for a moment before speaking. "You're certain, Lieutenant?"
"It's hard to be certain about a reading like this sir, but there is something there, though I could not tell you what, sir." Martin said. Major Stanley backed her up. "I've double checked the readings myself sir, she's right." Colonel Ma looked at the readings himself, perplexed. They seemed accurate to him, but they couldn't be.
How could Charon possibly have so much Element Zero in it?
---
Hello! This is an in-progress story I began writing on FanFiction.net at the beginning of the year. I posted it on the space battles forum, and was very pleased with the more open discussion there. When I heard about this forum, I thought some people here might like it as well. Thank you for reading!
Obligatory link to original post before I forget: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13797672/1/Mass-Effect-Isolation
Alternative Space Battles Forum link: Mass Effect: Isolation [AU Mass Effect Story]
Discovery
Since the first chapter is shorter than the other ones, I decided it would be a good idea to not wait to post the second one. Enjoy
Unclaimed Space
CIC of the Neth'Ran
April 3, 2089
Commodore Halmak's four-eyed gaze was glued to the image on his display. It was a mass effect relay, opened. One that hadn't been opened the last time he had seen it. Prator, the captain of Halmak's flagship, tore his gaze away from the relay long enough to ask a question. "What should we do, sir?" Halmak didn't have the faintest idea, but he wasn't about to let that get in his way. He spoke in a lowered voice to Prator, "This is the best opportunity we've had in years. Think of it. How many new star systems will the Hegemony have access to because of this?"
Prator snorted at that, "That just leaves the minor matter of who exactly opened a damn relay. We have no idea what could be out there." Halmak brushed it off, "We'll figure it out as we go, we can't overlook this opportunity, we have no idea who might show up to claim the systems if we're not careful. We're going to park our hides right here and wait. It was closed not even a few days ago, which means whoever opened will be around eventually." The commodore sat down and got comfortable.
---
Judith system, unsettled UN space
UNS Yuri Gagarin
April 3, 2089
Lieutenant Colonel Franz Bauer was in his quarters preparing a cup of the overpriced coffee he had been indulgent enough to bring a bag of for this tour. His intercom buzzed, and the commander answered. "This is Bauer." His XO, Major Udoh, was on the other end. "Sir, we're five minutes out from the relay system." The Colonel was pleased to hear it. His ship, the UNS Yuri Gagarin, was one of the ubiquitous Nova Scotia class frigates that made up the meat of the Space Force. She was spindle shaped, looking like two blunted cones of unequal size fused together at the base. The larger cone contained the weapons, crew quarters, and shuttle bay, while the smaller cone contained the engine room and the drive core. The shape of its hull gave the ship's armor a slope, drastically increasing its effectiveness against a direct hit on the front. The ship's uneven spindle shape was an intentional design choice, as the smaller half was hidden behind the larger half on the ship's front facing profile, which shielded the huge radiators necessary to keep the waste heat from the drive core and its oversized gun from cooking the crew alive. A single, powerful engine at the back provided its propulsion. The ship was a utilitarian design, meant to charge headlong into the enemy, taking punishment and giving it out with its spinal mounted mass accelerator. In some ways its design philosophy was reminiscent of many older aircraft, such as the A-10 Warthog, in that the primary weapon had been designed first and then the ship itself was built around it.
Colonel Bauer walked into his CIC, coffee in hand, and watched the external camera on his display. He loved watching the ship drop out of and go into FTL. It was always a spectacle, albeit a brief one. The Yuri was actually on a survey mission. She was a version of the Nova Scotia class modified for scouting and survey duties, sacrificing weaponry for sensor ability and drive efficiency. Which was why her advanced sensors picked up the three contacts near the relay. The sensors officer called it out just as Bauer was taking his first sip. "Colonel, three unknown contacts in orbit of the relay."
Bauer turned to Major Udoh with a quizzical eyebrow raised. "What do you think? Space Force?"
The Major shook his head. "Unlikely, sir. They wouldn't send three ships to deliver a message. It's probably pirates."
Now it was Bauer's turn to shake his head. "Pirates don't make a habit of ambushing ships that can actually defend themselves. Besides, we're a week's flight from the nearest pirate hotspot."
"It could be the topic we're both avoiding." Udoh said pointedly.
Bauer shook his head slightly. "This is all just speculation, anyway." He raised his voice so the CIC crew could hear him. "Who's got the datasheet for those contacts." One of the techs sent it to his viewscreen. Bauer and Udoh both studied the data for a time, before Bauer spoke again. "Massive heat signature on the two smaller ones. Almost as much resting output as from one of our cruisers. The big one's not too far behind on output, but at that size it should be way outperforming them. Must be some kind of fleet tender or support craft. Visual feed's still too grainy to make anything out at this distance, but there's no way in hell some crappy pirate Q-ships are putting out that much power, not on ships that small. It has to be military."
Udoh nodded at that. "And I don't know a of a single vessel of that size in human space that could possibly be putting out so much power, military or otherwise." He put a slight emphasis on the word "human".
Bauer's face contracted into a grimace. "We shouldn't jump to conclusions...but we also shouldn't be willfully ignorant of where the evidence is pointing." He keyed his intercom and dialed one of his officer's handhelds.
---
Second Lieutenant Tim Li was in the mess enjoying his morning coffee with his rangers. He was an average-looking man of middling height, years of constant physical conditioning had turned his once wiry frame into a well-honed weapon. His East Asian ancestry was betrayed in his face and in his short, dark black hair, though his eyes were an unusual deep sea green courtesy of one distant ancestor or another. He was watching with amusement as Tessa Wright, the newest member of the Yuri's ranger team, got teased by her teammates. Two other rangers, Zielinski and Anand, were describing exactly what the newbie would need to do to finally become a "real ranger" (to the surprise of no one, it involved copious amounts of alcohol consumption at the next shore leave). It was all in good fun, of course. Anyone who made it through the grueling full year of training at Ranger School had earned the title of "ranger". Wright had earned her title, as evidenced by the symbol she wore on her sleeve, two crossed muskets with a powder horn between them.
Tim was just about to tell Zielinski and Anand to stow it before they took it too far, when his handheld rang. He pulled it from his pocket and answered it. "Li Here."
It was Bauer. "Lieutenant, I want your rangers suited up, and I want rifles in your security people's hands. No reason to panic yet, I'm just taking a precaution."
"Sir, what's going on?" Tim asked.
"Possible First Contact scenario. Not enough intel to confirm right now, so keep it quiet for the moment. When I want the crew to know, I'll send it over the intercom. For now, I want your security teams at their ready positions and you and your rangers in the shuttle bay. Understood?" Bauer said. Like most officers in the Space Force, Tim wore several hats. In addition to leading the ship's ranger team, he was also the head of security and the ship's third officer.
"Yes sir."
"Good man. Bauer out."
The call ended, and Tim immediately got to work. He spoke to Chief Ranger Chakma, second in command of the Yuri's ranger team. "Chakma, get everyone to the armory. We're suiting up in five." The woman turned to the other three rangers and began giving orders. He turned to Chief Astronaut O'Leary, second in command of the ships security team. "Chief, have the whole team grab a rifle from the armory, and then send everyone to their ready positions."
The chief's eyes widened at that. "Are we repelling boarders sir?"
"I have no idea, I can only tell you that the CO will let everyone know when the time is right. Just get everyone together."
"Understood sir." The chief rushed off.
Tim followed after his sergeant to the armory. By the time he reached it, he could see several of the astronauts on his security team pulling out rifles and donning their light armor. Light armor meant a helmet, a chest plate, and of course their "bones", which were unpowered exoskeletons that were designed to support the wearer's spine and to keep their bones from breaking if they got thrown against a wall by a grenade or some other force. This gear, combined with the anti-shrapnel lining of their fatigues, was the standard-issue body armor of the average soldier in the UN Defense Force. The rangers were anything but average, and their gear showed it. The rangers stripped off their fatigues, wearing only the skin-tight bodysuit that was standard in the Space Force. The body suits offered no ballistic protection, but they were an inexpensive way for every member of the Space Force to be able to have a vacsuit. Their collars were seals for a standard issue infantry helmets, which could protect the wearer both from projectiles and from hard vacuum. An astronaut, protected from cosmic rays by the lining in their fatigues, could survive in space for thirty minutes with his standard gear, with some variation based on the sex or size of the wearer or if they are able to control their breathing. Everyone in the Space Force kept their helmet with them at all times, and drilled relentlessly so that they could slap their helmet on their head the instant they heard the hull breach alarm.
The rangers first donned their helmets, clamping them into place, but leaving the seals open so as not to waste the emergency oxygen supply. The next step was donning the ballistic gel underlay, which was one of the most expensive parts of the armor. After that, they donned the individual pieces of armor, helping each other to speed up the process. Soon, they were all decked out in their full ranger armor. It was a monumentally expensive piece of kit to give to an individual soldier, so the soldiers that wore it had to be damn good. Tim headed towards the elevator to the shuttle bay, his rangers behind him. As he stood in the elevator he heard the Battle Stations alarm go off, to his surprise. Things were about to get ugly.
---
Unclaimed Space
CIC of the Neth'Ran
April 3, 2089, five minutes prior
Commodore Halmak studied the image of the ship in his display. "It's ugly." Prator suppressed the urge to sigh as he made his own examination. What a weird shape. Reminds me of the old ships from those documentaries about pre-FTL batarians, and are those radiators? Seeing radiators on a ship in the modern age was like seeing sails on an aircraft carrier. The computer is listing it as a civilian ship because of its low power kinetic barriers and drive output, but that's a spinal mount. This is a warship, it's just a very primitive one...I know what it is. He turned to Halmak. "Sir? I think we're seeing a ship from a new race. We might be in a first contact situation. We should contact the Hegemony."
Halmak glared at him. "We're too far from batarian space. It'll be days before they can send a ship here. Are we supposed to just sit here having a staring contest with them until then?"
Prator was surprised. "Then...you think we should be the ones to make first contact."
There was a dangerous look on Halmak's face when he replied, "First contact? Ha! The only "contact" that will be made is the rounds of our guns against their barriers. We're going to batter down their shields, board them, seize the ship, and then we'll tow it back to batarian space."
Prator was not the sort of man who had anything resembling scruples, but even he was horrified. "But...you'd be making an enemy for the Hegemony, on your own authority! We're in a bad enough position as it is, we can't be making more enemies! Not without contacting the Hegemony first."
Halmak laughed at that. "Look at them, Prator! They're primitives. The Hegemony will thank me for this. We'll have discovered an entirely new race that can easily be conquered by our superior technology. Who knows just how many colonies they might have? We'll be more powerful than we've ever been if we absorb them into the Hegemony."
Prator thought he was crazy, and worse, he was wrong. Even if the Hegemony managed to conquer this race and even if its power was greatly increased by it, there was no way the Council would ever in a million years let that last. The Hegemony might become an actual threat instead of an annoyance if they did. Such thoughts were treason in the Hegemony, but somebody had to start thinking around here!
Prator looked at Halmak, but held his tongue. It was pointless to argue. Halmak was so adamant about this for one reason: he was trying to cover up his screw-up. The flotilla had been making a slave raid on some Salarian colony in the terminus systems. Just as they were beginning to load the captives onto the ship, a rival gang of slavers had turned up, looking to get the pay without the work. They'd blown two of the flotilla's ships to pieces before Halmak sounded the retreat, with only a few dozen slaves taken where there were supposed to have been thousands. Halmak had fled into Council space like an idiot, and the flotilla had had to take the long way back for fear of tripping over turian patrols. Halmak must've seen this as some big chance to reclaim his "honor". Idiot.
Prator sighed. His only goal now was to make sure he lived long enough to watch Halmak get burned for his stupidity.
---
Colonel Bauer was amazed. "You're certain, astronaut?" The young crewwoman nodded grimly. Bauer suppressed a swear. Just like that? They launch on an attack vector? They didn't even try to talk...let it never be said that I didn't. "Send out the first contact package on all channels. Let's hope this is just some crazy misunderstanding. Warm up the mass accelerator in case it isn't." Bauer suppressed another curse. The only significant offensive weapon the Yuri had was the mass driver. All of her torpedoes and turret guns had been gutted to make room for survey and sensor gear. He watched Major Udoh make the rounds among the combat stations on the CIC, checking on everyone. Good man. Better XO. Be a shame to see him die so pointlessly. He sighed. "Are they altering course?" The navigations officer didn't miss a beat. "No sir. Bogey still on attack vector." Damn. "Prep the mass driver to fire, but wait for my order. We're not going to fire the first-" displays lit up as the ship warned of incoming fire from the two frigate-sized ships. Bauer sighed. "Guess not. Open fire! Focus on the two escorts." The oversized gun of the Yuri Gagarin sung its silent song through the void as it opened up on the tailing ship. Not expecting so much firepower from the small human vessel, the ship's captain panicked and loosed his torpedoes too early. They were so far away that even the diminished laser banks of the Yuri could dispatch them. A lucky break! Bauer thought with a grin. "Focus down the one in the rear!"
The crew obeyed, and the mass driver battered the other ship's barriers down, and it began to retreat. Bauer didn't miss a beat "Switch targets to the lead ship!" The Yuri's gimballed engine swerved, sending the ship into a quick turn that brought its gun to bear on the lead ship. Bauer instinctively knew it wouldn't be fast enough. 'Brace for torpedo impact!" The alien ship launched a full salvo of torpedoes just as the Yuri opened up on it. Its barriers went down and it took a hit as it fled, but the torpedoes were already away. Bauer closed his eyes and prayed as the torpedoes went up against the laser batteries. The Yuri's defense computer seized control of the ship, burning hard perpendicularly to the oncoming torpedoes, trying to buy time for the lasers to do their work. The laser's performance was exemplary, but it wasn't enough. A single torpedo made its way through and struck the hull.
Had it struck any other frigate in Council Space, the torpedo would have likely crippled the ship, if not outright killed it. However, this was a human ship, and for humans, the Mass Effect was still new. Things like kinetic barriers were still practically magic. They were all too happy to use them, of course, but they still wanted something they knew, something they were familiar with. As such, the armored shell of a human ship was drastically thicker than any ship since the krogan had last sailed through the stars. Humans also went to great expense to increase the survivability of their ships, with more pressurized compartments, more structural reinforcement, and more redundancies than most other races would bother with. As far as the galaxy at large was concerned, a ship that had lost its barriers was already dead. What armor was still used was explicitly designed to resist disrupter torpedoes, not kinetics. Even then, economics meant that most frigates were lightly armored, preferring to use speed as their armor. Human ships were drastically slower, but for the new race, for whom every ship was precious, the increased survivability was worth every penny.
It was because of these factors that Colonel Bauer was still alive, albeit laying on the floor. He staggered to his feet. "Damage report!"
It was Major Udoh who replied. "Direct hit, dorsal hull. It was the mess. Nobody was in it, thank God, but we will probably be a little short on utensils for a while." The man gave a weak smile.
Bauer wasn't laughing. "We were lucky. Damn lucky." Major Udoh shook his head. "That was way beyond luck. It was a God damn miracle." Bauer couldn't help but nod. He turned his attention back to the situation. The alien fleet tender was ponderously making its way to the relay in an attempt to flee. I'll be damned if I'm about to let that happen. Hey keyed his intercom, not bothering to dial. "Li! Prep a boarding team. You're seizing that fat garbage scow. Everyone else, you're on damage control." He cut the feed and sagged into his chair.
---
Unclaimed Space
CIC of the Neth'Ran
Prator looked at Halmak's mangled corpse and grinned. The idiot had gotten what was coming to him, at least. Prator had ordered his ship and the other escort back through the relay. The support ship was going to get left behind, but Prator didn't particularly care. It wasn't like they'd had much of a haul from the raid. The best thing he could do now was burn hard for batarian space and let the Hegemony know about this mess. And hope that no one decided to execute him for it.
---
Unclaimed Space
Cargo hold of the Desh'kar'sey, batarian fleet tender
April 3, 2089
Neph'Olis nar Rayya heard the alarms blaring, and watched batarians scurry around the cargo hold, heading for their battle stations. She prayed to her ancestors that it was a Council patrol and not just more pirates. She glanced over at Talerra, her Asari acquaintance, and the only other non-salarian on board. The poor woman had collapsed in exhaustion. She had been up almost constantly, forced to remain vigilant due to the very real threat of assaults from batarian scum upon her. Neph had not had to face similar attacks, though whether that was because they didn't want to risk her dying or because they weren't interested in Quarians, she couldn't tell. Whatever it was, she thanked the ancestors for it, and cursed the batarians. There had been several attempts made on Talerra, and she had fended all of them off with her biotics, but she was running out of calories, and fast. Someone among the would-be "suitors" had grown a brain cell, and she had stopped receiving food. The salarians had all chipped in a small amount from their own meagre portions (Neph, of course, couldn't share hers, much to her frustration). Apparently she had been a fairly well-known figure among the salarian colony, and a few of them had tried to protect her, and gotten beaten to a pulp for it. Neph didn't know her, of course, she had spent almost every waking hour at work, trying to earn enough from her miserly salarian boss to get her off that miserable colony to somewhere she could find a pilgrimage gift. I suppose I got my wish, in a manner of speaking.
She glanced at Talerra. The quick respite would do her good. No on had fed them all day, otherwise the salarians might have given her something to eat, but the best they could do for her now was stand vigil over her sleeping form. Any further thoughts that Neph might have had were interrupted as the ship shook like some angry toddler god had it in its hand. The ship eventually righted itself, and Neph could only guess what had happened. Mass driver round? No way that pirate scum would have something that heavy on hand. That meant it was almost certainly some kind of military vessel, likely a Turian patrol. Oh ancestors, thank you. Her reverie was interrupted by an incredibly loud sound, the sound of metal being bent and warped by a sudden force. Boarders? "Everyone! Put your hands somewhere they can be seen! We're being boarded." The salarians around her all hurriedly complied. Please, ancestors, let it be turians! ...Huh, never thought I'd think something like that.
---
The shuttle's combat boarding attachment was a big steel spike on the front. When it pierced a ship's hull, it split into four hooked pieces that dug into the bulkheads and secured the shuttle in place. Not exactly elegant, but it did the job. Tim thought. He'd never done a combat boarding outside of training exercises. It had been exactly as jarring and unpleasant as he'd expected. Crammed into one of the Yuri's shuttles with his troops. He had his fireteam of rangers with him, Wright, Zielinski, Anand, and Chakma. He also had the entire security complement of the Yuri, which amounted to two fireteams of about four security specialists each. Not knowing how many aliens he might be facing, he had also scrounged up another fireteam from some of the non-essential maintenance crew. The Space Force believed very strongly in cross training, and every single member had to regularly do rifle drills and small unit tactics drills, so they could be ready to repel boarders, or fill out the ranks of a depleted infantry unit in a combat zone, or go on hair-brained schemes like this one with lunatic rangers. They would be a little rustier than the others, but they were still trained combatants.
Tim sighed at that. He was flying by the seat of his paints on this one. No time to plan this op, and even if he had time, he didn't have any kind of schematics or floorplans for an alien ship. It had all been guess work. Bauer's CIC crew guessed that the ship wouldn't be able to get to the relay for another twenty minutes. So that was twenty minutes for Tim's team to seize engineering and figure out how to stop the ship. The battle plan consisted of "point the shuttle at the rear section of the ship and hope you pop out somewhere near the engine room." the Yuri had run a parallel course to the alien ship, frying all of its defense guns before it sent the shuttle in. Tim had half expected the aliens to surrender, but they hadn't. Maybe they don't even have the concept. Human-centric thinking can be dangerous. The shuttle signaled that it had successfully anchored to the alien ship's bulkhead. Tim and his rangers were already at the front of the shuttle, ready to take point. Tim signaled, and Chakma slammed the emergency release on the shuttle's front port. It was a typical combat boarding tactic. It meant you'd have to make the flight home in an environment suit, but they were all already wearing that, as they couldn't be certain they could even breath the ship's air.
The shuttle's front door flew off and instantly crushed a waiting alien against the wall. The rangers advanced in one fluid motion, fanning out in a semi circle and mercilessly executing the haphazard anti-boarding team that had come to try and repel them. Only when the last body had hit the floor, and his rangers had taken up covering positions, did Tim bother to really look at what he was shooting. It was definitely an alien. It looked vaguely human, which almost made it worse, in a way. It had four eyes, crazily enough, but the basic body shape was still more or less the same. Two arms, two legs, five fingers, five...well he couldn't actually see their toes, but he could guess. Tearing his eyes from the alien, he signaled the other fireteams to move in.
Tim started giving orders. He'd organized them into three teams, A, B, and C. A and B were his security guys. C was the makeshift fireteam he'd thrown together. "C, you're guarding the ship. A and B, you go down that corridor, we're going the other way." He left without another word, picking a corridor that went toward the rear of the ship and leaving the other for A and B. Anand took point, with Zielinski and Tim in the middle, and with Chakma and Wright bringing up the rear. Just looking at the bulkheads, the ship wasn't especially alien to Tim. It looked more or less like the inside of the Yuri, albeit with a less utilitarian appearance. The aliens were also similar in that they appeared to breath oxygen too, if his helmet's HUD was correct. He wasn't going to be letting anyone on his team remove their helmets though. They'd brought extra oxygen with them, and he was going to damn well use it before he risked some alien pathogen creeping its way into his nose. The Yuri's doc had said that it was highly unlikely alien germs would have any effect like that, but no one had ever died from taking extra precautions, so his helmet stayed on.
Chief O'Leary's voice came over his helmet. "Lieutenant sir! We just got into a firefight, and from the look of it, this was the crew quarters. I think the captain was right, and this is some kind of cargo ship. There aren't many beds here. I guess it really is mostly cargo space."
Tim spoke into his mic. "Well, that's one thing cleared up. Try and clear the rest of the deck, but stay out of the cargo hold if you can for now. This could be some kind of makeshift troop-carrier for all we know, and that's where the infantry would be if it is." Even as he said it, he didn't really believe it. If the captain of this ship had a unit of infantry at his disposal, he'd be deploying it to repel boarders. Regardless, it was worth keeping in mind.
As they rounded the corner, the rangers came upon a sealed door. Signaling Zielinski and Anand, Tim took turned around and covered them with Wright and Chakma while they set a breaching charge. To avoid blowing themselves out into space, breaching charges were tightly controlled blasts, designed to cut a hole in the door. When the breaching charge went off, the rangers kicked the hunk of metal down and stormed in, not giving anyone inside time to react. There were three aliens in the room, and they all opened fire. The rangers gunned them down, and then looked around them. This looked like an engine room to Tim. The drive core was in a sectioned off room in the back, and a set of controls was arrayed in front of that room. Time looked around, hoping to find some kind of emergency stop. If these aliens were anything like humans, then their emergency stop would be easy to find and use. You didn't want to have to fiddle with passwords and digital interfaces when the drive core was seconds away from exploding. For humans, it was a big red button. For these aliens, it looked like they preferred big levers. Tim pulled the big lever and the ship shuddered to a stop, causing the rangers to lose their footing.
Now the hard part: clearing the rest of the ship.
---
Unclaimed Space
Cargo hold of the Desh'kar'sey
Neph could have sworn she had heard faint sounds of gunfire in the edges of the ship. Finally! The two batarian guards were struggling to decide if they wanted to watch the door or the slaves. Eventually, the solitary neuron they apparently shared fired, and one of them watched the prisoners while the other watched the door. Soon, sounds could be heard from the other side of the door. The batarians stiffened, but held their ground. A shower of sparks shot out from the door, and a slab of metal fell over. Within a second, the two batarians were already on the ground, breathing from a new hole in their heads. Five soldiers fanned out from the door, clearing the room. Neph watched them, and she was filled with despair. The figures were tall and bulky, with five fingers on each hand and helmets covering their faces. More Batarians! Neph wanted to weep. It seemed it was a rival pirate group after all. Every one of the slaves was standing now, except Talerra, who was only now getting on her feet. One of the batarians, who looked to be the leader, began to approach. The group of slaves all backed away in terror. Neph, in a moment of either courage or stupidity, moved to stand at the front of the group.
---
Tim watched as the aliens backed away from him, save one. More aliens, that's three...no four new species discovered in a single day. Humanity isn't just not alone, it's actually pretty damn crowded. The aliens looked terrified. Or at least, what little he could decipher of their body language seemed to indicate that. Flying by the seat of my pants again. Tim spoke to his rangers. "Hold your fire guys. These ones are different." They were dirty, as far as he could tell. They looked...weak. Underfed...? Prisoners, then. Or maybe just good old fashioned slaves. Tim grimaced at that. The one wearing an environment suit stood still, while the others backed away. I guess they've picked they're representative.
---
Neph watched the batarian approach, her pulse pounding. Then, he surprised her by putting his weapon on the floor. ...what? Maybe...maybe he's some kind of mercenary? Corporate security, maybe? Now that I mention it, some of those soldiers look almost female. Must be asari. Never heard of a female batarian leaving the hegemony, let alone joining a mercenary band. The batarian approached, and despite of herself Neph flinched. The batarian seemed almost surprised, from his body language. It stood, seemingly confused, before saying something: "Fuck it." Neph's translator didn't pick it up. Must be some obscure dialect or something. Then, the batarian took his helmet off.
Keelah! Neph had never seen anything like the creature standing before her. It looked like an asari, but it was obviously male, and she'd never met an asari with hair. At a glance, she might have thought him a Quarian, except his knees were backwards, and his fingers were weird like an asari's. The creature spoke. "um...hello. I'm Lieutenant Timothy Li, United Nations Ranger Corps." She had no idea what he was saying. Then, it clicked. Keelah! This is a brand new alien race! He's trying to make first contact! She smoothed her frayed nerves and spoke. "H-hello." Hoping Quarian body language was at least broadly similar to his, she gestured to herself. "Neph'Olis nar Rayya." The alien caught on. Repeating her gesture, he said: "Timothy'Li". Well, that's something. She gestured again, this time trying to encompass her entire body. "Quarian." The alien repeated her gesture again. "Human." Well, this is going to take a while. Hewmahn. Strange name. Well, I suppose he is an alien.
Neph was surprised by Talerra suddenly butting in. The soldiers behind Timothy'Li stiffened, but he held up a hand. Very slowly, Talerra extended her hands. Timothy'Li nodded, and turned to his troops, "Hold your fire. Not a round unless I'm dead or give the order. I mean it." More gibberish. Neph had an idea of what Talerra was doing, but the human was almost certainly clueless. He was either brave or denser than star matter. Talerra extended her hands again, and touched the human. They both stiffened, and Talerra's eyes went black. The soldiers behind Timothy'Li seemed like they were about to intervene when the asari and the human collapsed. Running to pick her up, Neph dragged Talerra to her feet. She gave the asari a moment to recover, then spoke "Well? What are they?"
Talerra shook her head, clearly exhausted. "This...isn't really my thing, but...they're definitely an uncontacted species."
Neph rolled her eyes, a rather useless gesture given her helmet. "I could've figured that out."
The asari gave a weak smile at that. "Sorry, just gathering my thoughts. They've never encountered another sapient species before today. Lucky them, the first ones they meet are batarians, who of course immediately open fire on them like idiots. The ship's captain sent him aboard to figure out what in space is going on."
Neph digested that. "So...did you tell him anything?"
"I tried to communicate that we're captives, slaves, and that none of us mean him any harm. I also tried to make it clear that he needs to throw together some kind of language record for our omni tools, so we can communicate. Then I realized I was about to pass out, so I severed the connection."
Neph glanced at the human, who seemed to have a new purpose to his movement. He was speaking gibberish at his soldiers, who listened intently. Then he turned to Neph, and she'd swear he looked...angry.
---
<---Original FF.net Author's Note--->
Wow, this sure was long as hell. Thanks so much for reading this far. I've been inspired to crank this out nice and quick thanks to all of the follows and favorites this got, which surprised me. This chapter has some more substance to it than the last one, so I hope it inspires some of you to give me your thoughts on the story so far in the reviews. The next chapter should be out sometime soon, probably this week, but I'm flying by the seat of my pants here, much like Tim, so a regular schedule probably isn't going to happen right now. I'll probably have some time to work on it soon, so I'm still reasonably confident in saying "new chapter before the end of the week."
<---End of Original FF.net Author's Note--->
Unclaimed Space
CIC of the Neth'Ran
April 3, 2089
Commodore Halmak's four-eyed gaze was glued to the image on his display. It was a mass effect relay, opened. One that hadn't been opened the last time he had seen it. Prator, the captain of Halmak's flagship, tore his gaze away from the relay long enough to ask a question. "What should we do, sir?" Halmak didn't have the faintest idea, but he wasn't about to let that get in his way. He spoke in a lowered voice to Prator, "This is the best opportunity we've had in years. Think of it. How many new star systems will the Hegemony have access to because of this?"
Prator snorted at that, "That just leaves the minor matter of who exactly opened a damn relay. We have no idea what could be out there." Halmak brushed it off, "We'll figure it out as we go, we can't overlook this opportunity, we have no idea who might show up to claim the systems if we're not careful. We're going to park our hides right here and wait. It was closed not even a few days ago, which means whoever opened will be around eventually." The commodore sat down and got comfortable.
---
Judith system, unsettled UN space
UNS Yuri Gagarin
April 3, 2089
Lieutenant Colonel Franz Bauer was in his quarters preparing a cup of the overpriced coffee he had been indulgent enough to bring a bag of for this tour. His intercom buzzed, and the commander answered. "This is Bauer." His XO, Major Udoh, was on the other end. "Sir, we're five minutes out from the relay system." The Colonel was pleased to hear it. His ship, the UNS Yuri Gagarin, was one of the ubiquitous Nova Scotia class frigates that made up the meat of the Space Force. She was spindle shaped, looking like two blunted cones of unequal size fused together at the base. The larger cone contained the weapons, crew quarters, and shuttle bay, while the smaller cone contained the engine room and the drive core. The shape of its hull gave the ship's armor a slope, drastically increasing its effectiveness against a direct hit on the front. The ship's uneven spindle shape was an intentional design choice, as the smaller half was hidden behind the larger half on the ship's front facing profile, which shielded the huge radiators necessary to keep the waste heat from the drive core and its oversized gun from cooking the crew alive. A single, powerful engine at the back provided its propulsion. The ship was a utilitarian design, meant to charge headlong into the enemy, taking punishment and giving it out with its spinal mounted mass accelerator. In some ways its design philosophy was reminiscent of many older aircraft, such as the A-10 Warthog, in that the primary weapon had been designed first and then the ship itself was built around it.
Colonel Bauer walked into his CIC, coffee in hand, and watched the external camera on his display. He loved watching the ship drop out of and go into FTL. It was always a spectacle, albeit a brief one. The Yuri was actually on a survey mission. She was a version of the Nova Scotia class modified for scouting and survey duties, sacrificing weaponry for sensor ability and drive efficiency. Which was why her advanced sensors picked up the three contacts near the relay. The sensors officer called it out just as Bauer was taking his first sip. "Colonel, three unknown contacts in orbit of the relay."
Bauer turned to Major Udoh with a quizzical eyebrow raised. "What do you think? Space Force?"
The Major shook his head. "Unlikely, sir. They wouldn't send three ships to deliver a message. It's probably pirates."
Now it was Bauer's turn to shake his head. "Pirates don't make a habit of ambushing ships that can actually defend themselves. Besides, we're a week's flight from the nearest pirate hotspot."
"It could be the topic we're both avoiding." Udoh said pointedly.
Bauer shook his head slightly. "This is all just speculation, anyway." He raised his voice so the CIC crew could hear him. "Who's got the datasheet for those contacts." One of the techs sent it to his viewscreen. Bauer and Udoh both studied the data for a time, before Bauer spoke again. "Massive heat signature on the two smaller ones. Almost as much resting output as from one of our cruisers. The big one's not too far behind on output, but at that size it should be way outperforming them. Must be some kind of fleet tender or support craft. Visual feed's still too grainy to make anything out at this distance, but there's no way in hell some crappy pirate Q-ships are putting out that much power, not on ships that small. It has to be military."
Udoh nodded at that. "And I don't know a of a single vessel of that size in human space that could possibly be putting out so much power, military or otherwise." He put a slight emphasis on the word "human".
Bauer's face contracted into a grimace. "We shouldn't jump to conclusions...but we also shouldn't be willfully ignorant of where the evidence is pointing." He keyed his intercom and dialed one of his officer's handhelds.
---
Second Lieutenant Tim Li was in the mess enjoying his morning coffee with his rangers. He was an average-looking man of middling height, years of constant physical conditioning had turned his once wiry frame into a well-honed weapon. His East Asian ancestry was betrayed in his face and in his short, dark black hair, though his eyes were an unusual deep sea green courtesy of one distant ancestor or another. He was watching with amusement as Tessa Wright, the newest member of the Yuri's ranger team, got teased by her teammates. Two other rangers, Zielinski and Anand, were describing exactly what the newbie would need to do to finally become a "real ranger" (to the surprise of no one, it involved copious amounts of alcohol consumption at the next shore leave). It was all in good fun, of course. Anyone who made it through the grueling full year of training at Ranger School had earned the title of "ranger". Wright had earned her title, as evidenced by the symbol she wore on her sleeve, two crossed muskets with a powder horn between them.
Tim was just about to tell Zielinski and Anand to stow it before they took it too far, when his handheld rang. He pulled it from his pocket and answered it. "Li Here."
It was Bauer. "Lieutenant, I want your rangers suited up, and I want rifles in your security people's hands. No reason to panic yet, I'm just taking a precaution."
"Sir, what's going on?" Tim asked.
"Possible First Contact scenario. Not enough intel to confirm right now, so keep it quiet for the moment. When I want the crew to know, I'll send it over the intercom. For now, I want your security teams at their ready positions and you and your rangers in the shuttle bay. Understood?" Bauer said. Like most officers in the Space Force, Tim wore several hats. In addition to leading the ship's ranger team, he was also the head of security and the ship's third officer.
"Yes sir."
"Good man. Bauer out."
The call ended, and Tim immediately got to work. He spoke to Chief Ranger Chakma, second in command of the Yuri's ranger team. "Chakma, get everyone to the armory. We're suiting up in five." The woman turned to the other three rangers and began giving orders. He turned to Chief Astronaut O'Leary, second in command of the ships security team. "Chief, have the whole team grab a rifle from the armory, and then send everyone to their ready positions."
The chief's eyes widened at that. "Are we repelling boarders sir?"
"I have no idea, I can only tell you that the CO will let everyone know when the time is right. Just get everyone together."
"Understood sir." The chief rushed off.
Tim followed after his sergeant to the armory. By the time he reached it, he could see several of the astronauts on his security team pulling out rifles and donning their light armor. Light armor meant a helmet, a chest plate, and of course their "bones", which were unpowered exoskeletons that were designed to support the wearer's spine and to keep their bones from breaking if they got thrown against a wall by a grenade or some other force. This gear, combined with the anti-shrapnel lining of their fatigues, was the standard-issue body armor of the average soldier in the UN Defense Force. The rangers were anything but average, and their gear showed it. The rangers stripped off their fatigues, wearing only the skin-tight bodysuit that was standard in the Space Force. The body suits offered no ballistic protection, but they were an inexpensive way for every member of the Space Force to be able to have a vacsuit. Their collars were seals for a standard issue infantry helmets, which could protect the wearer both from projectiles and from hard vacuum. An astronaut, protected from cosmic rays by the lining in their fatigues, could survive in space for thirty minutes with his standard gear, with some variation based on the sex or size of the wearer or if they are able to control their breathing. Everyone in the Space Force kept their helmet with them at all times, and drilled relentlessly so that they could slap their helmet on their head the instant they heard the hull breach alarm.
The rangers first donned their helmets, clamping them into place, but leaving the seals open so as not to waste the emergency oxygen supply. The next step was donning the ballistic gel underlay, which was one of the most expensive parts of the armor. After that, they donned the individual pieces of armor, helping each other to speed up the process. Soon, they were all decked out in their full ranger armor. It was a monumentally expensive piece of kit to give to an individual soldier, so the soldiers that wore it had to be damn good. Tim headed towards the elevator to the shuttle bay, his rangers behind him. As he stood in the elevator he heard the Battle Stations alarm go off, to his surprise. Things were about to get ugly.
---
Unclaimed Space
CIC of the Neth'Ran
April 3, 2089, five minutes prior
Commodore Halmak studied the image of the ship in his display. "It's ugly." Prator suppressed the urge to sigh as he made his own examination. What a weird shape. Reminds me of the old ships from those documentaries about pre-FTL batarians, and are those radiators? Seeing radiators on a ship in the modern age was like seeing sails on an aircraft carrier. The computer is listing it as a civilian ship because of its low power kinetic barriers and drive output, but that's a spinal mount. This is a warship, it's just a very primitive one...I know what it is. He turned to Halmak. "Sir? I think we're seeing a ship from a new race. We might be in a first contact situation. We should contact the Hegemony."
Halmak glared at him. "We're too far from batarian space. It'll be days before they can send a ship here. Are we supposed to just sit here having a staring contest with them until then?"
Prator was surprised. "Then...you think we should be the ones to make first contact."
There was a dangerous look on Halmak's face when he replied, "First contact? Ha! The only "contact" that will be made is the rounds of our guns against their barriers. We're going to batter down their shields, board them, seize the ship, and then we'll tow it back to batarian space."
Prator was not the sort of man who had anything resembling scruples, but even he was horrified. "But...you'd be making an enemy for the Hegemony, on your own authority! We're in a bad enough position as it is, we can't be making more enemies! Not without contacting the Hegemony first."
Halmak laughed at that. "Look at them, Prator! They're primitives. The Hegemony will thank me for this. We'll have discovered an entirely new race that can easily be conquered by our superior technology. Who knows just how many colonies they might have? We'll be more powerful than we've ever been if we absorb them into the Hegemony."
Prator thought he was crazy, and worse, he was wrong. Even if the Hegemony managed to conquer this race and even if its power was greatly increased by it, there was no way the Council would ever in a million years let that last. The Hegemony might become an actual threat instead of an annoyance if they did. Such thoughts were treason in the Hegemony, but somebody had to start thinking around here!
Prator looked at Halmak, but held his tongue. It was pointless to argue. Halmak was so adamant about this for one reason: he was trying to cover up his screw-up. The flotilla had been making a slave raid on some Salarian colony in the terminus systems. Just as they were beginning to load the captives onto the ship, a rival gang of slavers had turned up, looking to get the pay without the work. They'd blown two of the flotilla's ships to pieces before Halmak sounded the retreat, with only a few dozen slaves taken where there were supposed to have been thousands. Halmak had fled into Council space like an idiot, and the flotilla had had to take the long way back for fear of tripping over turian patrols. Halmak must've seen this as some big chance to reclaim his "honor". Idiot.
Prator sighed. His only goal now was to make sure he lived long enough to watch Halmak get burned for his stupidity.
---
Colonel Bauer was amazed. "You're certain, astronaut?" The young crewwoman nodded grimly. Bauer suppressed a swear. Just like that? They launch on an attack vector? They didn't even try to talk...let it never be said that I didn't. "Send out the first contact package on all channels. Let's hope this is just some crazy misunderstanding. Warm up the mass accelerator in case it isn't." Bauer suppressed another curse. The only significant offensive weapon the Yuri had was the mass driver. All of her torpedoes and turret guns had been gutted to make room for survey and sensor gear. He watched Major Udoh make the rounds among the combat stations on the CIC, checking on everyone. Good man. Better XO. Be a shame to see him die so pointlessly. He sighed. "Are they altering course?" The navigations officer didn't miss a beat. "No sir. Bogey still on attack vector." Damn. "Prep the mass driver to fire, but wait for my order. We're not going to fire the first-" displays lit up as the ship warned of incoming fire from the two frigate-sized ships. Bauer sighed. "Guess not. Open fire! Focus on the two escorts." The oversized gun of the Yuri Gagarin sung its silent song through the void as it opened up on the tailing ship. Not expecting so much firepower from the small human vessel, the ship's captain panicked and loosed his torpedoes too early. They were so far away that even the diminished laser banks of the Yuri could dispatch them. A lucky break! Bauer thought with a grin. "Focus down the one in the rear!"
The crew obeyed, and the mass driver battered the other ship's barriers down, and it began to retreat. Bauer didn't miss a beat "Switch targets to the lead ship!" The Yuri's gimballed engine swerved, sending the ship into a quick turn that brought its gun to bear on the lead ship. Bauer instinctively knew it wouldn't be fast enough. 'Brace for torpedo impact!" The alien ship launched a full salvo of torpedoes just as the Yuri opened up on it. Its barriers went down and it took a hit as it fled, but the torpedoes were already away. Bauer closed his eyes and prayed as the torpedoes went up against the laser batteries. The Yuri's defense computer seized control of the ship, burning hard perpendicularly to the oncoming torpedoes, trying to buy time for the lasers to do their work. The laser's performance was exemplary, but it wasn't enough. A single torpedo made its way through and struck the hull.
Had it struck any other frigate in Council Space, the torpedo would have likely crippled the ship, if not outright killed it. However, this was a human ship, and for humans, the Mass Effect was still new. Things like kinetic barriers were still practically magic. They were all too happy to use them, of course, but they still wanted something they knew, something they were familiar with. As such, the armored shell of a human ship was drastically thicker than any ship since the krogan had last sailed through the stars. Humans also went to great expense to increase the survivability of their ships, with more pressurized compartments, more structural reinforcement, and more redundancies than most other races would bother with. As far as the galaxy at large was concerned, a ship that had lost its barriers was already dead. What armor was still used was explicitly designed to resist disrupter torpedoes, not kinetics. Even then, economics meant that most frigates were lightly armored, preferring to use speed as their armor. Human ships were drastically slower, but for the new race, for whom every ship was precious, the increased survivability was worth every penny.
It was because of these factors that Colonel Bauer was still alive, albeit laying on the floor. He staggered to his feet. "Damage report!"
It was Major Udoh who replied. "Direct hit, dorsal hull. It was the mess. Nobody was in it, thank God, but we will probably be a little short on utensils for a while." The man gave a weak smile.
Bauer wasn't laughing. "We were lucky. Damn lucky." Major Udoh shook his head. "That was way beyond luck. It was a God damn miracle." Bauer couldn't help but nod. He turned his attention back to the situation. The alien fleet tender was ponderously making its way to the relay in an attempt to flee. I'll be damned if I'm about to let that happen. Hey keyed his intercom, not bothering to dial. "Li! Prep a boarding team. You're seizing that fat garbage scow. Everyone else, you're on damage control." He cut the feed and sagged into his chair.
---
Unclaimed Space
CIC of the Neth'Ran
Prator looked at Halmak's mangled corpse and grinned. The idiot had gotten what was coming to him, at least. Prator had ordered his ship and the other escort back through the relay. The support ship was going to get left behind, but Prator didn't particularly care. It wasn't like they'd had much of a haul from the raid. The best thing he could do now was burn hard for batarian space and let the Hegemony know about this mess. And hope that no one decided to execute him for it.
---
Unclaimed Space
Cargo hold of the Desh'kar'sey, batarian fleet tender
April 3, 2089
Neph'Olis nar Rayya heard the alarms blaring, and watched batarians scurry around the cargo hold, heading for their battle stations. She prayed to her ancestors that it was a Council patrol and not just more pirates. She glanced over at Talerra, her Asari acquaintance, and the only other non-salarian on board. The poor woman had collapsed in exhaustion. She had been up almost constantly, forced to remain vigilant due to the very real threat of assaults from batarian scum upon her. Neph had not had to face similar attacks, though whether that was because they didn't want to risk her dying or because they weren't interested in Quarians, she couldn't tell. Whatever it was, she thanked the ancestors for it, and cursed the batarians. There had been several attempts made on Talerra, and she had fended all of them off with her biotics, but she was running out of calories, and fast. Someone among the would-be "suitors" had grown a brain cell, and she had stopped receiving food. The salarians had all chipped in a small amount from their own meagre portions (Neph, of course, couldn't share hers, much to her frustration). Apparently she had been a fairly well-known figure among the salarian colony, and a few of them had tried to protect her, and gotten beaten to a pulp for it. Neph didn't know her, of course, she had spent almost every waking hour at work, trying to earn enough from her miserly salarian boss to get her off that miserable colony to somewhere she could find a pilgrimage gift. I suppose I got my wish, in a manner of speaking.
She glanced at Talerra. The quick respite would do her good. No on had fed them all day, otherwise the salarians might have given her something to eat, but the best they could do for her now was stand vigil over her sleeping form. Any further thoughts that Neph might have had were interrupted as the ship shook like some angry toddler god had it in its hand. The ship eventually righted itself, and Neph could only guess what had happened. Mass driver round? No way that pirate scum would have something that heavy on hand. That meant it was almost certainly some kind of military vessel, likely a Turian patrol. Oh ancestors, thank you. Her reverie was interrupted by an incredibly loud sound, the sound of metal being bent and warped by a sudden force. Boarders? "Everyone! Put your hands somewhere they can be seen! We're being boarded." The salarians around her all hurriedly complied. Please, ancestors, let it be turians! ...Huh, never thought I'd think something like that.
---
The shuttle's combat boarding attachment was a big steel spike on the front. When it pierced a ship's hull, it split into four hooked pieces that dug into the bulkheads and secured the shuttle in place. Not exactly elegant, but it did the job. Tim thought. He'd never done a combat boarding outside of training exercises. It had been exactly as jarring and unpleasant as he'd expected. Crammed into one of the Yuri's shuttles with his troops. He had his fireteam of rangers with him, Wright, Zielinski, Anand, and Chakma. He also had the entire security complement of the Yuri, which amounted to two fireteams of about four security specialists each. Not knowing how many aliens he might be facing, he had also scrounged up another fireteam from some of the non-essential maintenance crew. The Space Force believed very strongly in cross training, and every single member had to regularly do rifle drills and small unit tactics drills, so they could be ready to repel boarders, or fill out the ranks of a depleted infantry unit in a combat zone, or go on hair-brained schemes like this one with lunatic rangers. They would be a little rustier than the others, but they were still trained combatants.
Tim sighed at that. He was flying by the seat of his paints on this one. No time to plan this op, and even if he had time, he didn't have any kind of schematics or floorplans for an alien ship. It had all been guess work. Bauer's CIC crew guessed that the ship wouldn't be able to get to the relay for another twenty minutes. So that was twenty minutes for Tim's team to seize engineering and figure out how to stop the ship. The battle plan consisted of "point the shuttle at the rear section of the ship and hope you pop out somewhere near the engine room." the Yuri had run a parallel course to the alien ship, frying all of its defense guns before it sent the shuttle in. Tim had half expected the aliens to surrender, but they hadn't. Maybe they don't even have the concept. Human-centric thinking can be dangerous. The shuttle signaled that it had successfully anchored to the alien ship's bulkhead. Tim and his rangers were already at the front of the shuttle, ready to take point. Tim signaled, and Chakma slammed the emergency release on the shuttle's front port. It was a typical combat boarding tactic. It meant you'd have to make the flight home in an environment suit, but they were all already wearing that, as they couldn't be certain they could even breath the ship's air.
The shuttle's front door flew off and instantly crushed a waiting alien against the wall. The rangers advanced in one fluid motion, fanning out in a semi circle and mercilessly executing the haphazard anti-boarding team that had come to try and repel them. Only when the last body had hit the floor, and his rangers had taken up covering positions, did Tim bother to really look at what he was shooting. It was definitely an alien. It looked vaguely human, which almost made it worse, in a way. It had four eyes, crazily enough, but the basic body shape was still more or less the same. Two arms, two legs, five fingers, five...well he couldn't actually see their toes, but he could guess. Tearing his eyes from the alien, he signaled the other fireteams to move in.
Tim started giving orders. He'd organized them into three teams, A, B, and C. A and B were his security guys. C was the makeshift fireteam he'd thrown together. "C, you're guarding the ship. A and B, you go down that corridor, we're going the other way." He left without another word, picking a corridor that went toward the rear of the ship and leaving the other for A and B. Anand took point, with Zielinski and Tim in the middle, and with Chakma and Wright bringing up the rear. Just looking at the bulkheads, the ship wasn't especially alien to Tim. It looked more or less like the inside of the Yuri, albeit with a less utilitarian appearance. The aliens were also similar in that they appeared to breath oxygen too, if his helmet's HUD was correct. He wasn't going to be letting anyone on his team remove their helmets though. They'd brought extra oxygen with them, and he was going to damn well use it before he risked some alien pathogen creeping its way into his nose. The Yuri's doc had said that it was highly unlikely alien germs would have any effect like that, but no one had ever died from taking extra precautions, so his helmet stayed on.
Chief O'Leary's voice came over his helmet. "Lieutenant sir! We just got into a firefight, and from the look of it, this was the crew quarters. I think the captain was right, and this is some kind of cargo ship. There aren't many beds here. I guess it really is mostly cargo space."
Tim spoke into his mic. "Well, that's one thing cleared up. Try and clear the rest of the deck, but stay out of the cargo hold if you can for now. This could be some kind of makeshift troop-carrier for all we know, and that's where the infantry would be if it is." Even as he said it, he didn't really believe it. If the captain of this ship had a unit of infantry at his disposal, he'd be deploying it to repel boarders. Regardless, it was worth keeping in mind.
As they rounded the corner, the rangers came upon a sealed door. Signaling Zielinski and Anand, Tim took turned around and covered them with Wright and Chakma while they set a breaching charge. To avoid blowing themselves out into space, breaching charges were tightly controlled blasts, designed to cut a hole in the door. When the breaching charge went off, the rangers kicked the hunk of metal down and stormed in, not giving anyone inside time to react. There were three aliens in the room, and they all opened fire. The rangers gunned them down, and then looked around them. This looked like an engine room to Tim. The drive core was in a sectioned off room in the back, and a set of controls was arrayed in front of that room. Time looked around, hoping to find some kind of emergency stop. If these aliens were anything like humans, then their emergency stop would be easy to find and use. You didn't want to have to fiddle with passwords and digital interfaces when the drive core was seconds away from exploding. For humans, it was a big red button. For these aliens, it looked like they preferred big levers. Tim pulled the big lever and the ship shuddered to a stop, causing the rangers to lose their footing.
Now the hard part: clearing the rest of the ship.
---
Unclaimed Space
Cargo hold of the Desh'kar'sey
Neph could have sworn she had heard faint sounds of gunfire in the edges of the ship. Finally! The two batarian guards were struggling to decide if they wanted to watch the door or the slaves. Eventually, the solitary neuron they apparently shared fired, and one of them watched the prisoners while the other watched the door. Soon, sounds could be heard from the other side of the door. The batarians stiffened, but held their ground. A shower of sparks shot out from the door, and a slab of metal fell over. Within a second, the two batarians were already on the ground, breathing from a new hole in their heads. Five soldiers fanned out from the door, clearing the room. Neph watched them, and she was filled with despair. The figures were tall and bulky, with five fingers on each hand and helmets covering their faces. More Batarians! Neph wanted to weep. It seemed it was a rival pirate group after all. Every one of the slaves was standing now, except Talerra, who was only now getting on her feet. One of the batarians, who looked to be the leader, began to approach. The group of slaves all backed away in terror. Neph, in a moment of either courage or stupidity, moved to stand at the front of the group.
---
Tim watched as the aliens backed away from him, save one. More aliens, that's three...no four new species discovered in a single day. Humanity isn't just not alone, it's actually pretty damn crowded. The aliens looked terrified. Or at least, what little he could decipher of their body language seemed to indicate that. Flying by the seat of my pants again. Tim spoke to his rangers. "Hold your fire guys. These ones are different." They were dirty, as far as he could tell. They looked...weak. Underfed...? Prisoners, then. Or maybe just good old fashioned slaves. Tim grimaced at that. The one wearing an environment suit stood still, while the others backed away. I guess they've picked they're representative.
---
Neph watched the batarian approach, her pulse pounding. Then, he surprised her by putting his weapon on the floor. ...what? Maybe...maybe he's some kind of mercenary? Corporate security, maybe? Now that I mention it, some of those soldiers look almost female. Must be asari. Never heard of a female batarian leaving the hegemony, let alone joining a mercenary band. The batarian approached, and despite of herself Neph flinched. The batarian seemed almost surprised, from his body language. It stood, seemingly confused, before saying something: "Fuck it." Neph's translator didn't pick it up. Must be some obscure dialect or something. Then, the batarian took his helmet off.
Keelah! Neph had never seen anything like the creature standing before her. It looked like an asari, but it was obviously male, and she'd never met an asari with hair. At a glance, she might have thought him a Quarian, except his knees were backwards, and his fingers were weird like an asari's. The creature spoke. "um...hello. I'm Lieutenant Timothy Li, United Nations Ranger Corps." She had no idea what he was saying. Then, it clicked. Keelah! This is a brand new alien race! He's trying to make first contact! She smoothed her frayed nerves and spoke. "H-hello." Hoping Quarian body language was at least broadly similar to his, she gestured to herself. "Neph'Olis nar Rayya." The alien caught on. Repeating her gesture, he said: "Timothy'Li". Well, that's something. She gestured again, this time trying to encompass her entire body. "Quarian." The alien repeated her gesture again. "Human." Well, this is going to take a while. Hewmahn. Strange name. Well, I suppose he is an alien.
Neph was surprised by Talerra suddenly butting in. The soldiers behind Timothy'Li stiffened, but he held up a hand. Very slowly, Talerra extended her hands. Timothy'Li nodded, and turned to his troops, "Hold your fire. Not a round unless I'm dead or give the order. I mean it." More gibberish. Neph had an idea of what Talerra was doing, but the human was almost certainly clueless. He was either brave or denser than star matter. Talerra extended her hands again, and touched the human. They both stiffened, and Talerra's eyes went black. The soldiers behind Timothy'Li seemed like they were about to intervene when the asari and the human collapsed. Running to pick her up, Neph dragged Talerra to her feet. She gave the asari a moment to recover, then spoke "Well? What are they?"
Talerra shook her head, clearly exhausted. "This...isn't really my thing, but...they're definitely an uncontacted species."
Neph rolled her eyes, a rather useless gesture given her helmet. "I could've figured that out."
The asari gave a weak smile at that. "Sorry, just gathering my thoughts. They've never encountered another sapient species before today. Lucky them, the first ones they meet are batarians, who of course immediately open fire on them like idiots. The ship's captain sent him aboard to figure out what in space is going on."
Neph digested that. "So...did you tell him anything?"
"I tried to communicate that we're captives, slaves, and that none of us mean him any harm. I also tried to make it clear that he needs to throw together some kind of language record for our omni tools, so we can communicate. Then I realized I was about to pass out, so I severed the connection."
Neph glanced at the human, who seemed to have a new purpose to his movement. He was speaking gibberish at his soldiers, who listened intently. Then he turned to Neph, and she'd swear he looked...angry.
---
<---Original FF.net Author's Note--->
Wow, this sure was long as hell. Thanks so much for reading this far. I've been inspired to crank this out nice and quick thanks to all of the follows and favorites this got, which surprised me. This chapter has some more substance to it than the last one, so I hope it inspires some of you to give me your thoughts on the story so far in the reviews. The next chapter should be out sometime soon, probably this week, but I'm flying by the seat of my pants here, much like Tim, so a regular schedule probably isn't going to happen right now. I'll probably have some time to work on it soon, so I'm still reasonably confident in saying "new chapter before the end of the week."
<---End of Original FF.net Author's Note--->
Links
Not all of the chapters have been posted to this site. If you enjoy anticipation and/or just don't like ff.net/Space battles forum, you can simply wait until I post them all here (will post the next chapter tomorrow).
If you like to read ahead, here is the link to the original ff.net post, in case you missed it before. Alternative Space Battles link: Mass Effect: Isolation [AU Mass Effect Story]
If you enjoy my writing and are looking for more, you can see an archive of all of my original works at this site
If you like to read ahead, here is the link to the original ff.net post, in case you missed it before. Alternative Space Battles link: Mass Effect: Isolation [AU Mass Effect Story]
If you enjoy my writing and are looking for more, you can see an archive of all of my original works at this site
Decision
Judith System, unsettled UN space
April 3, 2089
Neph was sitting nervously in the human shuttle next to Talerra and Usit Minz, the salarian that the other salarians had chosen to represent them. Timothy'Li was watching the three of them intently, looking like he wanted to do something, but was unsure if he should. He seemed to come to a decision, and stood up. Gesturing to the three aliens to come stand by him, he moved over to a viewscreen-So primitive! Do they not have holographic screens yet, or are they just too expensive to mass produce?-and fiddled with it for a moment, before standing aside to allow the aliens to see. On the screen was an image of the alien's ship. Neph took it in, and couldn't help but think primitive again. Crude but efficient design, obviously they're new to mass effect technology...and are those radiators? Have they not discovered radiation venting yet? Her estimation of the humans' tech level went down another notch at that. It was then that she noticed the gaping hole in the top of the ship. Keelah! It survived that? It's a wonder they had enough crew left to board our ship with that kind of damage. Usit and Talerra retained neutral expressions as they absorbed the image of the human ship. Timothy'Li was studying the three of them intently. Neph wanted to say something, but it would just be gibberish to the human. So instead she just stood there awkwardly, trying to avoid his gaze.
As the shuttle approached the human ship, it performed a sudden turn. Why are we flipping like this? Do humans walk on their walls instead of their floors? She wracked her brain to think of an answer, and a video she had watched as a child about the history of quarian space travel came sprang forth from her memory. It must be vertically oriented! The ship's floor was perpendicular to the thrust, rather than parallel. From the perspective of the crew, it would be like living in a giant flying tower with a fusion torch at the base, with the ship constantly accelerating "upwards" towards its destination. This layout worked well for early fusion rockets, as the inertia generated by the engine meant that "down" was in the direction of the engines, so it was a more comfortable layout. However, once a species discovered the mass effect, things would change. The inertia is nullified by the ship's mass effect fields, and artificial gravity usually followed, so the orientation became unnecessary. The mass effect also made it possible for smaller ships to comfortably land on planets, where the vertical orientation became an inconvenience. The transition usually started with small freighters, passenger liners, and troopships making the change, and then eventually everything else followed. Either they're even younger than I thought or they're just unusual. Neph glanced at Tiimothy'Li.
Definitely unusual either way.
---
Colonel Bauer had instructed Tim to bring the three aliens straight to the CO's office, avoiding contact with the crew as much as possible. Once he was through the airlock Tim lead the way to the elevator, the three aliens in tow. After an awkward elevator ride, Tim headed for Bauer's office. Inside, Colonel Bauer and Major Udoh were waiting. Aside from planting a smile on his face, Bauer didn't bother with pleasantries. Tim watched as Bauer reached out and gave a data chip to the alien in the environment suit-Neph, that was her name-and Neph took it from him with what looked like a failed attempt at grace. The eyes of every human in the room widened as Neph activated some sort of holographic device that wrapped around her arm. She stood there tinkering with it, not looking up from her work.
---
Ancestors, this is a primitive storage unit. Configuring her omni tool for such an alien and primitive device on the fly wasn't exactly easy. Talerra seemed anxious. "You think you could maybe pick up the pace Neph?"
"Would you like to do it instead?" the quarian asked sweetly.
Talerra held her tongue at that. Suppressing a triumphant cheer, Neph looked on happily as the omni tool configured itself into a construct that could accept the alien data card. Slipping the card into the newly formed slot, the hard part began. The omni tool had to decipher whatever mathematical model the aliens used for the computing and data storage devices, and then figure out how to communicate with it. Omni tools sure are handy. She glanced at the humans, who looked on in wonder and curiosity. We take them for granted. We take a lot of things for granted. Finally, the omni tool beeped its success, and the human data card spat its stored data into the omni tool. It's a language module of some sort. She'd guessed that much from what Talerra had told her about the mind meld, but she hadn't thought they would have thrown it together this quickly. Perhaps it was premade, standard issue in anticipation of exactly this kind of situation.
Neph had to take an extra minute to reconfigure the omni tool to use speakers, as the humans had neither translation implants or omni tools of their own to use. She decided to test it out, turning to speak to the older human, the one who appeared to be the ship's captain. "Hello? Can you understand me?" The human grinned and nodded vigorously, speaking back. "Yes...understand...we." Well, that's about the best we can hope for using an over-modified quarian omnitool to integrate with completely new alien hardware. Neph sent a copy of the translation program over to the other two aliens, and looked meaningfully at them, which wasn't very meaningful given her helmet. Talerra managed to get the hint and began communicating with the alien commander.
---
Colonel Bauer looked at the strange purple alien standing in front of him, trying not to show his astonishment at how unsettling similar to a human woman she was. The woman spoke and brought Bauer out of his musings.
"Me...Talerra N'li...species...asari." the speakers on the woman's wonderous alien wristwatch spat out the words as she spoke in her own tongue. The strange woman, through her halting translator, told the humans of the tragic tale of the salarian colony. The woman was apparently a botanist (or whatever the purple alien woman equivalent of a botanist was) who had been hired to help set up an agricultural base, until the "batarians" had raided the colony and captured them to sell as slaves. A "salarian" was apparently what the third alien was. Bauer was equal parts amused and disturbed that one of the aliens humanity had encountered looked uncannily like one of the classic "greys" from early science fiction. The conversation continued, with the translator improving in leaps and bounds as they spoke. Talerra regaled the humans of the "council" and the many alien species that seemed to be a part of it. The batarians and their slaves-A species advanced enough for FTL travel practicing slavery? Insanity.-were also explained to the humans, with Bauer's concern growing the more he learned about them. The "asari" started slowing up, and Bauer watched her carefully. Alien or not, Bauer could tell the poor purple lady was exhausted, so he tried to graciously give her an out. He needed to contact his superiors anyway. Looking to Li, Bauer spoke in what he hoped was a polite manner for the alien. "You are all likely tired from your ordeal. Please, allow Lieutenant Li here to take you for some food and rest." Bauer could have kicked himself for saying that. They're aliens you idiot, they might not even be able to eat our food! The aliens didn't have any visible reaction to the remark, so either eating other species' food was not unknown to them, or they had simply elected to ignore his slip up. Bauer went over and put a hand on Li's shoulder, speaking in a low voice. "Take them to the mess. Let them rest, but don't give them food unless they have some way of testing if it will kill them or something. Understood?"
"Yes sir." Li didn't bat an eye at the prospect of taking three aliens that humanity had encountered less than ten hours ago out for dinner. Dependable man, Tim is. He made a mental note to remember recommend the man for a commendation, for his stellar performance in the boarding and mop-up operations. Bauer turned to Major Udoh and gave him a tired smile. "Well, Major, I think its time to call our superiors and start the biggest shitstorm in human history."
---
Thee three aliens followed Tim as he led them to the mess. He didn't have the faintest idea what to say to them, so he just kept his mouth shut. The four of them arrived in the mess, and Tim gestured for them to sit at a table. This shift's dinner wasn't going to be ready for a while yet, so he just went over and grabbed an armful of granola bars and four bottles of water. Walking over to the aliens, he asked the important question. "Do you have a way of determining if this is safe for you to eat?" The three aliens glanced at each other. Finally, the "quarian" took one of the ration bars and opened it, scanning it with that strange device on her forearm.
---
Neph suppressed a curse. It figured the aliens would be levos. Not for the first time, she cursed her people's infernal physiology. Were she a turian, she might be able to at least fill her belly, even if she wouldn't get any calories from the food. As a quarian that wasn't an option for her, she'd almost certainly have an allergic reaction, if not to the food itself then to whatever host of pathogens existed in it. She turned to Talerra, "They're a levo species. I've checked it, and there doesn't seem to be anything that would be toxic to other species in it." Talerra looked concerned. "When was the last time you ate? Maybe the batarians have some dextro food on their ship." Neph shook her head. "Not likely. The food they were giving me was mostly from my own rations. I'm pretty sure they ran out yesterday, that's probably why I didn't get fed today."
Timothy'Li looked puzzled. "Dextros? What's that?"
"It's the chirality of the amino acids my species uses. The majority of life in the galaxy has a levo chirality, including yours." Neph explained.
Timothy'Li turned red, what that meant, Neph could only guess. "It's been...a minute since I took a biology class. What does that mean?"
A woman's voice chimed in. "It means our food's worthless to her. She can't digest it." Timothy'Li looked over to the voice. Neph followed his gaze saw a short woman with brown hair and a stocky build approaching their table.
Timothy'Li seemed to know the woman. "Ah, Chief. I'm glad our resident dietitian has graced us with her presence."
Neph felt her eyes widen. "Human ships come with a dietitian?"
"Chief" smiled at her. "No, he's just being a smartass, sweety." Smart...ass? Sweety? Odd phrases. The woman stuck out a hand at Neph. "I'm Chief Astronaut Heather Tennison. I'm in charge of the mess and the nonessential maintenance department." Neph stared at her hand, unsure what to do. Thinking quickly, she grabbed the woman's hand. This seemed to be the correct response, as the other woman shook Neph's hand once and then let go. I'm having a weird day. And "Astronaut"? What a strange name. The word had translated as an archaic Kheelish word for "spacer". Then it clicked. Ah! It's not her name, it's her rank. Remembering her manners, Neph spoke next. "I'm Neph'Olis nar Rayya." The woman smiled again. "Pleased to meet you. Now, did I hear you say that your species has a dextro chirality in their amino acids?" Neph was a bit taken aback. "Y-yes."
The woman beamed at her. "Believe it or not, I have something for you." Leaving a bewildered Neph behind, Heather'Tennison vanished into the kitchen area. She reappeared a minute later carrying a box of something.
She spoke. "My sister fell for some bullshit pyramid scheme, bought up a bunch of "calorie-free food", the idea being that you can fill up without actually intaking any calories, the reason being that it's made of dextro amino acids. Lord knows why she thought I could sell weight-loss supplements to a bunch of people who eat rationed amounts of food and regularly excercise, never mind why she thought I would, but her stupidity sure came in handy. I don't know if this will work for you, but it might be worth a try."
Neph couldn't decipher many of the words and concepts the woman had just said, but she could gather that, for some absurd reason, the human had dextro food and was offering it to her. Heather handed her a plastic-wrapped hunk of...matter, and Neph scanned it with her omni-tool. It appeared to be sterile, more or less, and as far as she could tell there would be nothing toxic for her in it. She would get to eat. "Thank you so much, but I can't eat it like this, I need to turn it into a paste, so I can eat it through my mask." Neph said.
Timothy'Li spoke then. "Are you not able to take your helmet off?" Neph groaned internally. The question she had been expecting and dreading.
"No, I can't."
"Is it all right if I ask why?"
A small part of Neph was genuinely touched that this alien, who had not known other intelligent species even existed less than 12 hours ago, was considerate enough to ask her if she was comfortable answering the question. The rest of her was in a panic trying to find a way to avoid the question gracefully. Politeness or not, refusing to answer would still look very suspicious, but telling the truth might not go much better. 'Hey, there's this incredibly powerful machine intelligence that looms over the entire galaxy striking fear into everyone, and my people are the ones who built it!' Seems like a good way to have yet another alien species hating my people. Fortunately, Talerra bought her some time by answering the question for her. "Neph's people are nomads, they live in ships their entire lives. They've been doing it for so long that their immune systems have atrophied." Timothy'Li nodded. "Alright, understood. I'll make a note to tell let the ship's doctor know." He pulled out his primitive handheld computer to do just that. Neph doubted an alien doctor who had only just become aware of the existence of quarians would be able to do much for her medically, but she appreciated the gesture. She also appreciated that Timothy'Li hadn't asked the obvious follow-up question of "Why are your people nomadic?". She couldn't tell if he was being tactful, or if he just accepted the information at face value. I'm going to have to face the music about the geth eventually, but it's nice to have a little time to prepare.
Heather'Tennison emerged from the kitchen, carrying a cup filled with...something, and dressed in a long coat and gloves, with a mask on her face and some kind of covering on her head. She set the drink down in front of Neph. "I did my best to sterilize it, but I don't have the equipment I usually would for that. Still, it's about as sterile as it can be with the equipment on hand. We're lucky these bricks were designed to be able to be eaten solid or as a smoothie." She gave the mixture a dubious look, "That one's supposed to be strawberry flavored-it's a fruit that grows on our homeworld-" she interrupted herself, causing the incoming questions to die on the lips of the three aliens, "but I have no idea what that will taste like to an alien tongue. Assuming you have a tongue."
"Y-yes, I have a tongue." Neph replied, embarrassed. She was touched that the alien would go to all this trouble just because she'd mentioned her weak immune system. "And, thank you, truly." Neph opened up her masks food filter and took a sip. It was an entirely new, entirely alien flavor. She had no words for it, other than "sweet". Well, I've certainly tasted worse nutrient paste. "It's...not too bad." Heather'Tennison laughed at that. "You don't have to lie to me honey. I know it's underwhelming, I had a taste of it myself." Neph shook her head. "No, trust me. My standards for food are not very high." She tried to play it off as a joke, but Heather'Tennison seemed a little uncomfortable at its darker implications, even as she politely chuckled at Neph's attempt at humor. Looking for an out, Neph asked a question. "The way you spoke earlier implied that you had done this before."
Heather'Tennison seemed eager to jump ship from the awkward joke too. "Oh, yes I have. I used to work in the kitchens at a children's hospital. Some of the kids had stuff wrong with their immune system. They had to stay in special rooms, and we had to go through decon and suit up to make them dinner. I didn't do anything fancy with your food like I had to do with theirs, but I still remember the procedures." Usit Minz perked up at this. "You have medical experience?"
Heather'Tennison shook her head, "No, I was just a very well trained cook. Why? Are you in medicine?" Usit Minz unleashed a tide of questions at the woman, with Talerra taking a brief respite from shoveling granola bars into her starving biotic mouth to listen. As it turned out, he was a doctor himself, having run the clinic at the colony where he had been abducted. He fired off question after question about human physiology, medical technology, and a dozen other medical topics, while the poor woman did her best to answer despite her continued insistence that he'd be better off asking the ship's doctor. Neph tuned him out and sipped her "strawberry" drink, studying the two aliens. It occurred to her that she had been thinking of them as male and female, even though she had no basis for this other than the biases of her own physiology. Not thinking, she blurted out, "You two are of different sexes, yes?"
All conversation stopped and all eyes turned to Neph, who was mortified at how much she'd just embarrassed herself. "I'm sorry, Timothy'Li I-"
Timothy'Li smiled and held up his hands. "No, it's fine. It's a perfectly logical question. We're aliens, there's quite literally an infinite number of possible explanations for our physical differences." he said, gesturing at Heather'Tennison, "To answer your question, yes, we are of different sexes. I am a male and Heather is a female. And it's just 'Tim' you don't have to say the whole name out loud."
"Ah, I figured that, but I considered it might just be my biases showing."
Heather interrupted suddenly. "Do your people give live birth? No laying eggs, or something?"
Taken aback by the non sequitur, Neph answered awkwardly, "...no, we don't lay eggs."
The woman nodded sagely. "Makes sense. Convergent evolution. There's really only one practical way for a female biped to give live birth, and that's by having wider hips than her male counterpart."
While Neph and Talerra shifted uncomfortably, Usit nodded, his hand on his chin. "Interesting hypothesis. Circumstantial evidence supports it. Salarian females do not give live birth, and have proportionally identical wastes to males. Turian females also give live birth, also have proportionally wider hips. Will have to-" Neph was thoroughly convinced she was about to die from embarrassment. This is going to be a long trip.
---
Their meal finished, the three aliens followed Li back to the human captain's office. Colonel Bauer rose from his desk to greet them as they entered. "Excellent timing, I just finished my report to my superiors a few minutes ago. Let's just say that if I were you, I'd brace myself for about a million questions from our diplomats in the near future." He smiled at the aliens, gesturing for them to sit in three folding chairs that had been dug out of a storage closet. Tim leaned against the wall.
Bauer spoke, "I hope you all are a little refreshed. I have some more questions. I'd just like to know a little more about your people. For example, I know that Talerra and Usit's species are leaders on this Citadel Council of yours, but what of the quarians? I regret that I didn't learn more in our previous conversation."
Neph almost groaned audibly. She'd wracked her brain trying to find a good way to diplomatically bring up the hostile machine intelligence her people had unleashed upon the galaxy. She was a terrible liar, and even if she could lie it was only delaying the inevitable. The best course of action was to just tell the truth. "My people are...on poor terms with the council. We were not always a nomadic people. We had a home world and colonies of our own once, but then the machine laborers we invented, the geth, achieved sapience, and we fought a bloody war with them. Only a little less than one percent of us survived, managing to escape in a fotilla of ships. We wander the galaxy, scavenging and begging for the supplies to keep the fleet going. No one will let our fleet get close to one of their colonies, so we can't properly service our ships. That's why almost all of us have some kind of basic engineering training."
Tim spoke, "Wait. You're essentially a species made up almost entirely of talented engineers...and no one wants you?" There was an awkward silence. Neph tried to break it. "Well...we made the geth, unleashed them upon the galaxy so...the Council sees it as a kind of...penance, I suppose. They generally let our pilgrims in, but the fleet has to stay away."
"How long ago was your war with the geth?" Bauer asked.
"My math might be off, but I'd guess about two hundred of your years ago." Neph said.
More silence. "The council holds you responsible for a two hundred year old mistake? There couldn't be a single quarian left who was alive during the war! Assuming you have similar lifespans to our own."
"It appears that we do, as you are correct. The generation that fought the geth are long dead." Neph said, filing the information about human lifespans away.
"Well, Miss Olis, the 34th article of our United Nations' Declaration of Sapient rights forbids children from being held responsible for the crimes and debts incurred by their parents. You have nothing to fear from us with regards to that. And the Declaration would also make it illegal for us to deny you such basic aid." Bauer glanced at the other two aliens. "You'll forgive me if your Council doesn't sound especially appealing."
Talerra snorted. "You won't hear any arguments from me. I didn't leave for a colony in the ass end of the Terminus systems because I liked the Council." Usit nodded his agreement. "Well, I'll take your word for it." Bauer said. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a few more questions, and then Lieutenant Li can find you a bunk..." Neph stopped listening as the human interviewed the two aliens. She was still reeling from what the captain had said. Not only had the alien told her that his government wouldn't hold the geth against her people, and would even be willing to provide aid to the Migrant Fleet, he had said it would be illegal not to!
Neph looked at the alien again. We'll see if his government puts its money where his mouth is.
---
Earth, United Nations Lunar Headquarters, Cabinet meeting room
April 4, 2089
General Secretary Bathusi Molefe rubbed the bridge of his nose as his cabinet gathered together for the meeting. He had had a long night of intelligence briefings, barely getting any sleep as the cabinet had been summoned for the meeting. On a large viewscreen mounted on the wall, Lieutenant Colonel Bauer sat waiting patiently, having been requested to attend the meeting now that he was back within range of the comm buoy network. As the cabinet was seated, Molefe opened the meeting.
"Thank you for arriving on such short notice, ladies and gentlemen. As I'm sure you're no doubt aware, we face an unprecedented situation. At least four advanced alien civilizations have been discovered, one of them openly hostile, with at least four more also existing in the galaxy, most of which live under some sort of interstellar confederation. I would like options and discussion, please."
The Defense Minister spoke first, "I think I'll state the obvious, we need to start mobilizing, heading towards a full war footing, and we need to do it yesterday."
The Minister of State responded to that, "We shouldn't do something so drastic, not without more data. From what we know, these batarians are raiders, criminals, unlikely to commit to a total war."
The Defense Minister fired back, "We have zero guarantee of that. Zero. Our member governments might be able to take half measures when it comes to military matters, but we cannot. The entire human species is completely reliant on us for its defense. The Defense Force has to be our first priority, now more than ever."
"We're completely outmatched on both a technological and economical level. Our chances in a defensive war against just the batarians are not optimal, to put it lightly. There's no way we could even hope to face the might of this 'Council'. Diplomacy is our only option" said the Minister of State.
The Minister of Science and Technology spoke up. "These "quarians" might be able to help us with our technology gap, at least in the short term. From what I gather, they are diplomatic pariahs with this council. Given their apparently quite destitute state, and the apparent lack of competition from these other civilizations, we might be able to take advantage of their skilled personnel for a relatively low cost."
The Secretary General responded to that, "That's a good idea, but I think we should leave that for a later date, once we've made first contact with this council and have gathered more data. It wouldn't be good for our first impression with the council if the first people we intentionally contact in the galaxy are the nomad pariahs. As for our defense, I think the Defense Minister's advice is prudent, although I agree that we have no chance whatsoever in a war with this council. However, the batarians are not council members, and neither are we for that matter. I think we should move towards a war footing, but keep it on a slow burn for now, keep the focus on activating our reserves and building more ships. I'll also issue a class three Emergency Defense Directive for our constituent governments." Emergency Defense Directives were the prerogative of the Secretary General, to be used in times of great military threat. They operated on a scale from three to one, with three being "start activating your reserves" and one being "mobilize everything now". With this directive, the millions of soldiers serving the governments of Earth and her colonies would stand by to be activated as Peacekeepers by the Secretary General, swelling the ranks of the Peacekeepers, the ground combat branch of the Defense Force. Earth soldiers would train and prepare for the moment when they were summoned to fill out seats in a troop transport, while colonial soldiers would dig in and prepare for alien attack.
The Secretary General rubbed the bridge of his nose again. "We're going to need to send a diplomatic team, along with all those aliens we rescued. Repatriating them might win us some good will in negotiations. We'll need to put together a security detail, a ship, and someone to lead them."
"May I offer a suggestion, sir?" It was the Lieutenant Colonel, Bauer.
"By all means, Colonel."
"I'd suggest my third officer, Lieutenant Timothy Li. He's an excellent ranger, and no slouch in a command chair. He'll keep the diplomats safe, and he's already built something of a rapport with the three aliens we spoke with, which might come in handy. More importantly, he's cool headed. One of the most even-keeled men I've ever met, perfect for leading a mission of diplomacy. He's smart enough to know to keep his mouth shut, but also eloquent enough that he won't embarrass us if he has to speak."
Molefe pondered this. "He has never held his own command before, wouldn't it be preferable to have a more experienced ship commander?"
"We'll be wanting him to avoid combat entirely. Promote him to Major and put him in command of one of our new interceptors, and he'll get the team there safe. I'm not suggesting Li out of favoritism, hell I barely know the man outside of the job, but this is an officer who has first hand experience interacting with aliens, and this is also the man who led a boarding operation that captured an alien ship from a species who had been first encountered forty-five minutes ago. He has experience leading people into the complete unknown, which I'd argue is exactly what this mission needs."
"...Alright, I'll give the order." Molefe had served in several peacekeeping operations during his time in the Botswanan Defence Force. He'd always believed in trusting the man on the seen, the one who had seen the situation unfold with his own eyes. Some of that leadership style still existed in him as secretary general. "Now, onto our next topic..."
<---Original FF.net Author's Note--->
Thank you for reading this chapter! Updates are going to be less frequent for the near future, but in the long term I hope to rectify that by getting a buffer of chapters going, though that plan may change depending on how things go. Regardless, thank you again for reading, and please share your thoughts criticisms in the reviews.
One final note, I've slightly altered the lore on dextro-levo animo acids to be marginally more scientifically accurate, which some especially perceptive readers might have noted. Having done some reading on the subject, I discovered that, irl, dextro amino acids would at worst give you some indigestion, and of course provide no calories (and dextro species would logically be able to eat levo amino acids with minimal effects as well). It's still essentially useless to our bodies (hence the diet food in the story) but it would be largely harmless. It was a minor thing, but it was something that had always bugged me about mass effect lore. I hope I haven't rustled any feathers by making this change, but if I have, know that the lore implications of dextro/levo are still in place, as quarians and turians would still starve if they tried to live on levo food, so the practical implications of the differences are still there. They just won't keel over if they try to eat a pizza (well, quarians might, but that's just because they're made of tissue paper).
See you next time!
<--End of Original Author's note--->
Hello! Thank you for reading, and as always please share your thoughts on the story in the replies.
Have a good day!
April 3, 2089
Neph was sitting nervously in the human shuttle next to Talerra and Usit Minz, the salarian that the other salarians had chosen to represent them. Timothy'Li was watching the three of them intently, looking like he wanted to do something, but was unsure if he should. He seemed to come to a decision, and stood up. Gesturing to the three aliens to come stand by him, he moved over to a viewscreen-So primitive! Do they not have holographic screens yet, or are they just too expensive to mass produce?-and fiddled with it for a moment, before standing aside to allow the aliens to see. On the screen was an image of the alien's ship. Neph took it in, and couldn't help but think primitive again. Crude but efficient design, obviously they're new to mass effect technology...and are those radiators? Have they not discovered radiation venting yet? Her estimation of the humans' tech level went down another notch at that. It was then that she noticed the gaping hole in the top of the ship. Keelah! It survived that? It's a wonder they had enough crew left to board our ship with that kind of damage. Usit and Talerra retained neutral expressions as they absorbed the image of the human ship. Timothy'Li was studying the three of them intently. Neph wanted to say something, but it would just be gibberish to the human. So instead she just stood there awkwardly, trying to avoid his gaze.
As the shuttle approached the human ship, it performed a sudden turn. Why are we flipping like this? Do humans walk on their walls instead of their floors? She wracked her brain to think of an answer, and a video she had watched as a child about the history of quarian space travel came sprang forth from her memory. It must be vertically oriented! The ship's floor was perpendicular to the thrust, rather than parallel. From the perspective of the crew, it would be like living in a giant flying tower with a fusion torch at the base, with the ship constantly accelerating "upwards" towards its destination. This layout worked well for early fusion rockets, as the inertia generated by the engine meant that "down" was in the direction of the engines, so it was a more comfortable layout. However, once a species discovered the mass effect, things would change. The inertia is nullified by the ship's mass effect fields, and artificial gravity usually followed, so the orientation became unnecessary. The mass effect also made it possible for smaller ships to comfortably land on planets, where the vertical orientation became an inconvenience. The transition usually started with small freighters, passenger liners, and troopships making the change, and then eventually everything else followed. Either they're even younger than I thought or they're just unusual. Neph glanced at Tiimothy'Li.
Definitely unusual either way.
---
Colonel Bauer had instructed Tim to bring the three aliens straight to the CO's office, avoiding contact with the crew as much as possible. Once he was through the airlock Tim lead the way to the elevator, the three aliens in tow. After an awkward elevator ride, Tim headed for Bauer's office. Inside, Colonel Bauer and Major Udoh were waiting. Aside from planting a smile on his face, Bauer didn't bother with pleasantries. Tim watched as Bauer reached out and gave a data chip to the alien in the environment suit-Neph, that was her name-and Neph took it from him with what looked like a failed attempt at grace. The eyes of every human in the room widened as Neph activated some sort of holographic device that wrapped around her arm. She stood there tinkering with it, not looking up from her work.
---
Ancestors, this is a primitive storage unit. Configuring her omni tool for such an alien and primitive device on the fly wasn't exactly easy. Talerra seemed anxious. "You think you could maybe pick up the pace Neph?"
"Would you like to do it instead?" the quarian asked sweetly.
Talerra held her tongue at that. Suppressing a triumphant cheer, Neph looked on happily as the omni tool configured itself into a construct that could accept the alien data card. Slipping the card into the newly formed slot, the hard part began. The omni tool had to decipher whatever mathematical model the aliens used for the computing and data storage devices, and then figure out how to communicate with it. Omni tools sure are handy. She glanced at the humans, who looked on in wonder and curiosity. We take them for granted. We take a lot of things for granted. Finally, the omni tool beeped its success, and the human data card spat its stored data into the omni tool. It's a language module of some sort. She'd guessed that much from what Talerra had told her about the mind meld, but she hadn't thought they would have thrown it together this quickly. Perhaps it was premade, standard issue in anticipation of exactly this kind of situation.
Neph had to take an extra minute to reconfigure the omni tool to use speakers, as the humans had neither translation implants or omni tools of their own to use. She decided to test it out, turning to speak to the older human, the one who appeared to be the ship's captain. "Hello? Can you understand me?" The human grinned and nodded vigorously, speaking back. "Yes...understand...we." Well, that's about the best we can hope for using an over-modified quarian omnitool to integrate with completely new alien hardware. Neph sent a copy of the translation program over to the other two aliens, and looked meaningfully at them, which wasn't very meaningful given her helmet. Talerra managed to get the hint and began communicating with the alien commander.
---
Colonel Bauer looked at the strange purple alien standing in front of him, trying not to show his astonishment at how unsettling similar to a human woman she was. The woman spoke and brought Bauer out of his musings.
"Me...Talerra N'li...species...asari." the speakers on the woman's wonderous alien wristwatch spat out the words as she spoke in her own tongue. The strange woman, through her halting translator, told the humans of the tragic tale of the salarian colony. The woman was apparently a botanist (or whatever the purple alien woman equivalent of a botanist was) who had been hired to help set up an agricultural base, until the "batarians" had raided the colony and captured them to sell as slaves. A "salarian" was apparently what the third alien was. Bauer was equal parts amused and disturbed that one of the aliens humanity had encountered looked uncannily like one of the classic "greys" from early science fiction. The conversation continued, with the translator improving in leaps and bounds as they spoke. Talerra regaled the humans of the "council" and the many alien species that seemed to be a part of it. The batarians and their slaves-A species advanced enough for FTL travel practicing slavery? Insanity.-were also explained to the humans, with Bauer's concern growing the more he learned about them. The "asari" started slowing up, and Bauer watched her carefully. Alien or not, Bauer could tell the poor purple lady was exhausted, so he tried to graciously give her an out. He needed to contact his superiors anyway. Looking to Li, Bauer spoke in what he hoped was a polite manner for the alien. "You are all likely tired from your ordeal. Please, allow Lieutenant Li here to take you for some food and rest." Bauer could have kicked himself for saying that. They're aliens you idiot, they might not even be able to eat our food! The aliens didn't have any visible reaction to the remark, so either eating other species' food was not unknown to them, or they had simply elected to ignore his slip up. Bauer went over and put a hand on Li's shoulder, speaking in a low voice. "Take them to the mess. Let them rest, but don't give them food unless they have some way of testing if it will kill them or something. Understood?"
"Yes sir." Li didn't bat an eye at the prospect of taking three aliens that humanity had encountered less than ten hours ago out for dinner. Dependable man, Tim is. He made a mental note to remember recommend the man for a commendation, for his stellar performance in the boarding and mop-up operations. Bauer turned to Major Udoh and gave him a tired smile. "Well, Major, I think its time to call our superiors and start the biggest shitstorm in human history."
---
Thee three aliens followed Tim as he led them to the mess. He didn't have the faintest idea what to say to them, so he just kept his mouth shut. The four of them arrived in the mess, and Tim gestured for them to sit at a table. This shift's dinner wasn't going to be ready for a while yet, so he just went over and grabbed an armful of granola bars and four bottles of water. Walking over to the aliens, he asked the important question. "Do you have a way of determining if this is safe for you to eat?" The three aliens glanced at each other. Finally, the "quarian" took one of the ration bars and opened it, scanning it with that strange device on her forearm.
---
Neph suppressed a curse. It figured the aliens would be levos. Not for the first time, she cursed her people's infernal physiology. Were she a turian, she might be able to at least fill her belly, even if she wouldn't get any calories from the food. As a quarian that wasn't an option for her, she'd almost certainly have an allergic reaction, if not to the food itself then to whatever host of pathogens existed in it. She turned to Talerra, "They're a levo species. I've checked it, and there doesn't seem to be anything that would be toxic to other species in it." Talerra looked concerned. "When was the last time you ate? Maybe the batarians have some dextro food on their ship." Neph shook her head. "Not likely. The food they were giving me was mostly from my own rations. I'm pretty sure they ran out yesterday, that's probably why I didn't get fed today."
Timothy'Li looked puzzled. "Dextros? What's that?"
"It's the chirality of the amino acids my species uses. The majority of life in the galaxy has a levo chirality, including yours." Neph explained.
Timothy'Li turned red, what that meant, Neph could only guess. "It's been...a minute since I took a biology class. What does that mean?"
A woman's voice chimed in. "It means our food's worthless to her. She can't digest it." Timothy'Li looked over to the voice. Neph followed his gaze saw a short woman with brown hair and a stocky build approaching their table.
Timothy'Li seemed to know the woman. "Ah, Chief. I'm glad our resident dietitian has graced us with her presence."
Neph felt her eyes widen. "Human ships come with a dietitian?"
"Chief" smiled at her. "No, he's just being a smartass, sweety." Smart...ass? Sweety? Odd phrases. The woman stuck out a hand at Neph. "I'm Chief Astronaut Heather Tennison. I'm in charge of the mess and the nonessential maintenance department." Neph stared at her hand, unsure what to do. Thinking quickly, she grabbed the woman's hand. This seemed to be the correct response, as the other woman shook Neph's hand once and then let go. I'm having a weird day. And "Astronaut"? What a strange name. The word had translated as an archaic Kheelish word for "spacer". Then it clicked. Ah! It's not her name, it's her rank. Remembering her manners, Neph spoke next. "I'm Neph'Olis nar Rayya." The woman smiled again. "Pleased to meet you. Now, did I hear you say that your species has a dextro chirality in their amino acids?" Neph was a bit taken aback. "Y-yes."
The woman beamed at her. "Believe it or not, I have something for you." Leaving a bewildered Neph behind, Heather'Tennison vanished into the kitchen area. She reappeared a minute later carrying a box of something.
She spoke. "My sister fell for some bullshit pyramid scheme, bought up a bunch of "calorie-free food", the idea being that you can fill up without actually intaking any calories, the reason being that it's made of dextro amino acids. Lord knows why she thought I could sell weight-loss supplements to a bunch of people who eat rationed amounts of food and regularly excercise, never mind why she thought I would, but her stupidity sure came in handy. I don't know if this will work for you, but it might be worth a try."
Neph couldn't decipher many of the words and concepts the woman had just said, but she could gather that, for some absurd reason, the human had dextro food and was offering it to her. Heather handed her a plastic-wrapped hunk of...matter, and Neph scanned it with her omni-tool. It appeared to be sterile, more or less, and as far as she could tell there would be nothing toxic for her in it. She would get to eat. "Thank you so much, but I can't eat it like this, I need to turn it into a paste, so I can eat it through my mask." Neph said.
Timothy'Li spoke then. "Are you not able to take your helmet off?" Neph groaned internally. The question she had been expecting and dreading.
"No, I can't."
"Is it all right if I ask why?"
A small part of Neph was genuinely touched that this alien, who had not known other intelligent species even existed less than 12 hours ago, was considerate enough to ask her if she was comfortable answering the question. The rest of her was in a panic trying to find a way to avoid the question gracefully. Politeness or not, refusing to answer would still look very suspicious, but telling the truth might not go much better. 'Hey, there's this incredibly powerful machine intelligence that looms over the entire galaxy striking fear into everyone, and my people are the ones who built it!' Seems like a good way to have yet another alien species hating my people. Fortunately, Talerra bought her some time by answering the question for her. "Neph's people are nomads, they live in ships their entire lives. They've been doing it for so long that their immune systems have atrophied." Timothy'Li nodded. "Alright, understood. I'll make a note to tell let the ship's doctor know." He pulled out his primitive handheld computer to do just that. Neph doubted an alien doctor who had only just become aware of the existence of quarians would be able to do much for her medically, but she appreciated the gesture. She also appreciated that Timothy'Li hadn't asked the obvious follow-up question of "Why are your people nomadic?". She couldn't tell if he was being tactful, or if he just accepted the information at face value. I'm going to have to face the music about the geth eventually, but it's nice to have a little time to prepare.
Heather'Tennison emerged from the kitchen, carrying a cup filled with...something, and dressed in a long coat and gloves, with a mask on her face and some kind of covering on her head. She set the drink down in front of Neph. "I did my best to sterilize it, but I don't have the equipment I usually would for that. Still, it's about as sterile as it can be with the equipment on hand. We're lucky these bricks were designed to be able to be eaten solid or as a smoothie." She gave the mixture a dubious look, "That one's supposed to be strawberry flavored-it's a fruit that grows on our homeworld-" she interrupted herself, causing the incoming questions to die on the lips of the three aliens, "but I have no idea what that will taste like to an alien tongue. Assuming you have a tongue."
"Y-yes, I have a tongue." Neph replied, embarrassed. She was touched that the alien would go to all this trouble just because she'd mentioned her weak immune system. "And, thank you, truly." Neph opened up her masks food filter and took a sip. It was an entirely new, entirely alien flavor. She had no words for it, other than "sweet". Well, I've certainly tasted worse nutrient paste. "It's...not too bad." Heather'Tennison laughed at that. "You don't have to lie to me honey. I know it's underwhelming, I had a taste of it myself." Neph shook her head. "No, trust me. My standards for food are not very high." She tried to play it off as a joke, but Heather'Tennison seemed a little uncomfortable at its darker implications, even as she politely chuckled at Neph's attempt at humor. Looking for an out, Neph asked a question. "The way you spoke earlier implied that you had done this before."
Heather'Tennison seemed eager to jump ship from the awkward joke too. "Oh, yes I have. I used to work in the kitchens at a children's hospital. Some of the kids had stuff wrong with their immune system. They had to stay in special rooms, and we had to go through decon and suit up to make them dinner. I didn't do anything fancy with your food like I had to do with theirs, but I still remember the procedures." Usit Minz perked up at this. "You have medical experience?"
Heather'Tennison shook her head, "No, I was just a very well trained cook. Why? Are you in medicine?" Usit Minz unleashed a tide of questions at the woman, with Talerra taking a brief respite from shoveling granola bars into her starving biotic mouth to listen. As it turned out, he was a doctor himself, having run the clinic at the colony where he had been abducted. He fired off question after question about human physiology, medical technology, and a dozen other medical topics, while the poor woman did her best to answer despite her continued insistence that he'd be better off asking the ship's doctor. Neph tuned him out and sipped her "strawberry" drink, studying the two aliens. It occurred to her that she had been thinking of them as male and female, even though she had no basis for this other than the biases of her own physiology. Not thinking, she blurted out, "You two are of different sexes, yes?"
All conversation stopped and all eyes turned to Neph, who was mortified at how much she'd just embarrassed herself. "I'm sorry, Timothy'Li I-"
Timothy'Li smiled and held up his hands. "No, it's fine. It's a perfectly logical question. We're aliens, there's quite literally an infinite number of possible explanations for our physical differences." he said, gesturing at Heather'Tennison, "To answer your question, yes, we are of different sexes. I am a male and Heather is a female. And it's just 'Tim' you don't have to say the whole name out loud."
"Ah, I figured that, but I considered it might just be my biases showing."
Heather interrupted suddenly. "Do your people give live birth? No laying eggs, or something?"
Taken aback by the non sequitur, Neph answered awkwardly, "...no, we don't lay eggs."
The woman nodded sagely. "Makes sense. Convergent evolution. There's really only one practical way for a female biped to give live birth, and that's by having wider hips than her male counterpart."
While Neph and Talerra shifted uncomfortably, Usit nodded, his hand on his chin. "Interesting hypothesis. Circumstantial evidence supports it. Salarian females do not give live birth, and have proportionally identical wastes to males. Turian females also give live birth, also have proportionally wider hips. Will have to-" Neph was thoroughly convinced she was about to die from embarrassment. This is going to be a long trip.
---
Their meal finished, the three aliens followed Li back to the human captain's office. Colonel Bauer rose from his desk to greet them as they entered. "Excellent timing, I just finished my report to my superiors a few minutes ago. Let's just say that if I were you, I'd brace myself for about a million questions from our diplomats in the near future." He smiled at the aliens, gesturing for them to sit in three folding chairs that had been dug out of a storage closet. Tim leaned against the wall.
Bauer spoke, "I hope you all are a little refreshed. I have some more questions. I'd just like to know a little more about your people. For example, I know that Talerra and Usit's species are leaders on this Citadel Council of yours, but what of the quarians? I regret that I didn't learn more in our previous conversation."
Neph almost groaned audibly. She'd wracked her brain trying to find a good way to diplomatically bring up the hostile machine intelligence her people had unleashed upon the galaxy. She was a terrible liar, and even if she could lie it was only delaying the inevitable. The best course of action was to just tell the truth. "My people are...on poor terms with the council. We were not always a nomadic people. We had a home world and colonies of our own once, but then the machine laborers we invented, the geth, achieved sapience, and we fought a bloody war with them. Only a little less than one percent of us survived, managing to escape in a fotilla of ships. We wander the galaxy, scavenging and begging for the supplies to keep the fleet going. No one will let our fleet get close to one of their colonies, so we can't properly service our ships. That's why almost all of us have some kind of basic engineering training."
Tim spoke, "Wait. You're essentially a species made up almost entirely of talented engineers...and no one wants you?" There was an awkward silence. Neph tried to break it. "Well...we made the geth, unleashed them upon the galaxy so...the Council sees it as a kind of...penance, I suppose. They generally let our pilgrims in, but the fleet has to stay away."
"How long ago was your war with the geth?" Bauer asked.
"My math might be off, but I'd guess about two hundred of your years ago." Neph said.
More silence. "The council holds you responsible for a two hundred year old mistake? There couldn't be a single quarian left who was alive during the war! Assuming you have similar lifespans to our own."
"It appears that we do, as you are correct. The generation that fought the geth are long dead." Neph said, filing the information about human lifespans away.
"Well, Miss Olis, the 34th article of our United Nations' Declaration of Sapient rights forbids children from being held responsible for the crimes and debts incurred by their parents. You have nothing to fear from us with regards to that. And the Declaration would also make it illegal for us to deny you such basic aid." Bauer glanced at the other two aliens. "You'll forgive me if your Council doesn't sound especially appealing."
Talerra snorted. "You won't hear any arguments from me. I didn't leave for a colony in the ass end of the Terminus systems because I liked the Council." Usit nodded his agreement. "Well, I'll take your word for it." Bauer said. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a few more questions, and then Lieutenant Li can find you a bunk..." Neph stopped listening as the human interviewed the two aliens. She was still reeling from what the captain had said. Not only had the alien told her that his government wouldn't hold the geth against her people, and would even be willing to provide aid to the Migrant Fleet, he had said it would be illegal not to!
Neph looked at the alien again. We'll see if his government puts its money where his mouth is.
---
Earth, United Nations Lunar Headquarters, Cabinet meeting room
April 4, 2089
General Secretary Bathusi Molefe rubbed the bridge of his nose as his cabinet gathered together for the meeting. He had had a long night of intelligence briefings, barely getting any sleep as the cabinet had been summoned for the meeting. On a large viewscreen mounted on the wall, Lieutenant Colonel Bauer sat waiting patiently, having been requested to attend the meeting now that he was back within range of the comm buoy network. As the cabinet was seated, Molefe opened the meeting.
"Thank you for arriving on such short notice, ladies and gentlemen. As I'm sure you're no doubt aware, we face an unprecedented situation. At least four advanced alien civilizations have been discovered, one of them openly hostile, with at least four more also existing in the galaxy, most of which live under some sort of interstellar confederation. I would like options and discussion, please."
The Defense Minister spoke first, "I think I'll state the obvious, we need to start mobilizing, heading towards a full war footing, and we need to do it yesterday."
The Minister of State responded to that, "We shouldn't do something so drastic, not without more data. From what we know, these batarians are raiders, criminals, unlikely to commit to a total war."
The Defense Minister fired back, "We have zero guarantee of that. Zero. Our member governments might be able to take half measures when it comes to military matters, but we cannot. The entire human species is completely reliant on us for its defense. The Defense Force has to be our first priority, now more than ever."
"We're completely outmatched on both a technological and economical level. Our chances in a defensive war against just the batarians are not optimal, to put it lightly. There's no way we could even hope to face the might of this 'Council'. Diplomacy is our only option" said the Minister of State.
The Minister of Science and Technology spoke up. "These "quarians" might be able to help us with our technology gap, at least in the short term. From what I gather, they are diplomatic pariahs with this council. Given their apparently quite destitute state, and the apparent lack of competition from these other civilizations, we might be able to take advantage of their skilled personnel for a relatively low cost."
The Secretary General responded to that, "That's a good idea, but I think we should leave that for a later date, once we've made first contact with this council and have gathered more data. It wouldn't be good for our first impression with the council if the first people we intentionally contact in the galaxy are the nomad pariahs. As for our defense, I think the Defense Minister's advice is prudent, although I agree that we have no chance whatsoever in a war with this council. However, the batarians are not council members, and neither are we for that matter. I think we should move towards a war footing, but keep it on a slow burn for now, keep the focus on activating our reserves and building more ships. I'll also issue a class three Emergency Defense Directive for our constituent governments." Emergency Defense Directives were the prerogative of the Secretary General, to be used in times of great military threat. They operated on a scale from three to one, with three being "start activating your reserves" and one being "mobilize everything now". With this directive, the millions of soldiers serving the governments of Earth and her colonies would stand by to be activated as Peacekeepers by the Secretary General, swelling the ranks of the Peacekeepers, the ground combat branch of the Defense Force. Earth soldiers would train and prepare for the moment when they were summoned to fill out seats in a troop transport, while colonial soldiers would dig in and prepare for alien attack.
The Secretary General rubbed the bridge of his nose again. "We're going to need to send a diplomatic team, along with all those aliens we rescued. Repatriating them might win us some good will in negotiations. We'll need to put together a security detail, a ship, and someone to lead them."
"May I offer a suggestion, sir?" It was the Lieutenant Colonel, Bauer.
"By all means, Colonel."
"I'd suggest my third officer, Lieutenant Timothy Li. He's an excellent ranger, and no slouch in a command chair. He'll keep the diplomats safe, and he's already built something of a rapport with the three aliens we spoke with, which might come in handy. More importantly, he's cool headed. One of the most even-keeled men I've ever met, perfect for leading a mission of diplomacy. He's smart enough to know to keep his mouth shut, but also eloquent enough that he won't embarrass us if he has to speak."
Molefe pondered this. "He has never held his own command before, wouldn't it be preferable to have a more experienced ship commander?"
"We'll be wanting him to avoid combat entirely. Promote him to Major and put him in command of one of our new interceptors, and he'll get the team there safe. I'm not suggesting Li out of favoritism, hell I barely know the man outside of the job, but this is an officer who has first hand experience interacting with aliens, and this is also the man who led a boarding operation that captured an alien ship from a species who had been first encountered forty-five minutes ago. He has experience leading people into the complete unknown, which I'd argue is exactly what this mission needs."
"...Alright, I'll give the order." Molefe had served in several peacekeeping operations during his time in the Botswanan Defence Force. He'd always believed in trusting the man on the seen, the one who had seen the situation unfold with his own eyes. Some of that leadership style still existed in him as secretary general. "Now, onto our next topic..."
<---Original FF.net Author's Note--->
Thank you for reading this chapter! Updates are going to be less frequent for the near future, but in the long term I hope to rectify that by getting a buffer of chapters going, though that plan may change depending on how things go. Regardless, thank you again for reading, and please share your thoughts criticisms in the reviews.
One final note, I've slightly altered the lore on dextro-levo animo acids to be marginally more scientifically accurate, which some especially perceptive readers might have noted. Having done some reading on the subject, I discovered that, irl, dextro amino acids would at worst give you some indigestion, and of course provide no calories (and dextro species would logically be able to eat levo amino acids with minimal effects as well). It's still essentially useless to our bodies (hence the diet food in the story) but it would be largely harmless. It was a minor thing, but it was something that had always bugged me about mass effect lore. I hope I haven't rustled any feathers by making this change, but if I have, know that the lore implications of dextro/levo are still in place, as quarians and turians would still starve if they tried to live on levo food, so the practical implications of the differences are still there. They just won't keel over if they try to eat a pizza (well, quarians might, but that's just because they're made of tissue paper).
See you next time!
<--End of Original Author's note--->
Hello! Thank you for reading, and as always please share your thoughts on the story in the replies.
Have a good day!
Samar
Sol System, Lunar Base
April 15, 2089
Neph look out through the window at the Lunar spaceport at the ship she was to be taking to the Citadel. It was small, barely one hundred meters in length, but it was apparently state-of-the-art by human standards. It was apparently a type of ship called an "Interceptor" designed to be a sort of stunted frigate. They had a frigate-sized drive core, but were a fraction of the size of a real frigate. As such, they were faster and more maneuverable than a frigate, and their economical size and personnel cost had allowed humanity to build a much larger number of hulls than their fledging interstellar civilization would otherwise be able to support. This specific ship was apparently of a new top-of-the-line class of interceptors, with an even bigger drive core that would make it the fastest ship in human space, and give it kinetic barriers whose strength would rival those of warships three times its size.
All of the waste heat generated by these systems had to go somewhere, and that's where the ship's unique design really shined. It was a radical departure from typical human warship design, as it was flat and aerodynamic, rather than the blunted spindle shape that human warships usually had. Older interceptors were also more aerodynamic and rated for atmospheric flight, but this new model wasn't just rated for it, it was optimized for it. The most striking example of this was the radiators, which were designed to also act as wings in an atmosphere. Neph didn't know how the humans had made radiators sturdy enough for that purpose, but they had been using radiators for far longer than all of the other races had in their history, as most species quickly discovered the heat-venting technology that was so ubiquitous in Council space. Humanity had had more time and much more effort put into developing radiator technology than other races. So, ironically, it was possible they had more advanced radiator technology than everyone else. Not that it counts for much. It's like having the most advanced fossil-fuel power plant when fusion has already been discovered. Still, it proved useful in this instance.
"She's not as tough as we usually build them, but she'll get us there in one piece." a voice came from behind Neph. It was Tim, now Major Tim. "She's a lot sturdier than she looks. We might not have all of the cool toys you guys have, but we build them to last." Neph nodded politely. She'd reserve her judgement for when she was standing on the Citadel, alive. She still wasn't sure why the humans wanted to bring her with on their diplomatic mission. They'd said they'd wanted her as a witness, and had persisted despite her insistence that, as a quarian, her word wasn't good for much anyway. So, she, Talerra, and Usit were all to be ferried to the Citadel to present their story and, hopefully, help the humans to make a good first impression. The humans had promised to repatriate the other salarians once diplomatic contact with the Salarian Union was established, but none of the salarians had seemed especially eager to go back into the loving arms of the very government they had tried to get away from.
Neph was happy to help the people who had rescued her from a fate quite possibly worse than death, even if she didn't think she would be of much help. "I never got to say it properly Tim, but thank you for saving me and the others from the batarians. I know it was kind of by accident, but thank you nonetheless."
Tim smiled at her. "Not a problem. Thank you for agreeing to come on this mission. Even if what you say is true and you'll be of little help in the diplomacy, if you're half as good as your people's reputation then I'm sure you'll be an excellent source of knowledge for Lieutenant Fahri to tap into." The Lieutenant in question, Ozan Fahri, was a short, olive-skinned man of calm demeanor who gave her a small smile at Tim's words. He was to be the Chief Engineer of their small ship, and was quite eager to pick Neph's brain for engineering knowledge.
A woman's voice interjected at that. "I'd raise an objection at non-UN personnel getting a peak at the drive core of the most advanced class of ship in the fleet, but if what they say about our tech-gap is true she's probably seen better on a garbage scow." The woman, First Lieutenant Lisa Smith, the soon-to-be first officer of the ship gave a mocking sniff. "I'll just have to bear it." she said, before glancing at Neph and quickly closing one of her eyes, a motion that Neph had discovered apparently meant that there was some kind of joke, and the person being "winked" at was now in on it.
"She might be old hat to the fancy folk on the Citadel, but the Samar and the others of its class are the finest ships to ever roll off a human assembly line. I'd rather fight in her than in one of those batarian buckets you fought, Major." This voice belonged to Master Chief Astronaut Amancio Paulo. He was the shortest among the three men in the group, roughly the same height as Smith, but he was built like a brick. What could be seen of his dark black skin looked almost like it was struggling to wrap itself around his bulk. He had a shaved head and the weather-beaten face of a hardened veteran, exactly what one might imagine the senior NCO of an elite warship to look like. He had been the leader of the ranger team for the Atlanta, one of the Samar's older sisters in the class. He had been promoted and transferred to the Samar only recently, having not taken part in the trial run that Tim and the new crew had hastily conducted only a few days before.
"I think I agree with you Chief, especially since our ship is filled to the brim with rangers." Tim said. It was true. Every single member of the crew was a ranger, by order of the Secretary General. Rangers were a precious commodity, and under normal circumstances such excess wouldn't have been allowed. Fortunately for the military planners, the Samar needed only about forty-five crew. The small crew requirement of interceptors was what made the concept so appealing to the eternally personnel-hungry Space Force.
A question that Neph had wanted to ask but never had an appropriate moment for came to mind. "Saw...mar? I've heard you say it's name before, but it doesn't translate. What is it?"
Tim answered the question. "It doesn't translate because its a proper noun, the name of an island in the Philippines archipelago on Earth."
"So the ship is named after the island?" Neph asked.
"It's not. It's named after the 'Battle off Samar', a naval battle that took place near the island during our Second World War. A small Allied force of light escort ships was surprised by a vastly superior Axis force. They decided that their only option was to counter charge, and they managed to beat the odds and force the Axis fleet to retreat."
Neph nodded her understanding. She was vaguely acquainted with the Second World War. She'd spent her free time perusing through awkwardly translated articles about human history and culture, and WW2 was a very hard-to-miss part of that.
Smith was raising her eyebrows. "I can't help but notice the metaphorical implications of that battle on our current situation. Do you think command choosing this particular ship was intentional?"
Fahri chuckled. "Could be. Plenty of history nerds among the pencil pushers."
Neph snorted as well. "Well, I think it's a good name, and I'll be proud to have it ferry me."
"And we're proud to have you." Tim said.
---
Tim was notified that the crew was aboard and all of the supplies for the trip were loaded, so the group set off to gather Usit and Talerra, and then made their way to the ship's airlock. The first thing that stuck out to Neph was that the ship was horizontally oriented, unlike the vertically oriented Yuri Gagarin. It was the sensible choice for a ship designed to fly within the atmosphere of planets. The second thing that stuck out to Neph was the lack of space. It was a small ship, and wasting space was anathema to the Space Force. An extra half-meter of ceiling space would have wasted dozens of cubic meters on worthless head room. The ceiling was just high enough to accommodate the tallest of humans, but no more.
The ship had only three decks. In the middle, running the length of the ship, there was the main deck, on which Neph currently stood. It contained the CIC, bridge, engine room, computer core, and brig. The main gun was a spinal mount, running the length of the entire deck, and it could be accessed for maintenance and repair by pulling out the floorboards of the deck. Below the main deck was the cargo hold, which doubled as an armory and held a loading ramp that could be used for bringing troops in and out of combat. The top floor held the mess, crew quarters, infirmary, and CO's office. All of these decks were meant to be traversed by a central ladder, as that was the most space-efficient method. The ship's generous missile compliment was stored in a silo on the bottom of the ship, although from what Neph had heard from her conversations with the human officers the missiles were not equipped with Mass Effect drives. She had no idea what the humans hoped to accomplish with missiles that would be easily run out of fuel by any ship with a mass effect drive.
Tim turned to the three aliens when they'd made their way into the CIC. "We've thrown together some guest quarters for you in the cargo hold. Not exactly elegant, but it beats squeezing into the crew bunks. I can have one of my rangers show you the way, if you don't have any questions."
Talerra looked at Neph and Usit, who shook their heads. "I don't believe so, captain."
Tim smiled. "It's just Tim, you're not in the Space Force...and I'm not in the Navy, so if you still feel the need to address me by rank, it's "Major". He had what Neph guessed was a mock serious expression on his face as he said that. Tim continued. "We're going to be travelling for several days to get to where we picked you up, and from there we're flying blind to this primary relay on your star chart that will take us into your Council's space. It's probably going to take a while from there. So...get comfortable, I suppose."
Neph followed one of Tim's rangers. She was no stranger to lengthy periods spent on a starship, but those usually weren't as...cramped. Steeling herself for what was likely going to be an unpleasant ride, she made her way to her new quarters.
---
Major Tim Li was equal parts ecstatic and nervous, though he hid it well. He was commanding a ship-his ship-on a critically important mission for the UN. This was a huge responsibility, one that he still wasn't confident he was ready for, but...every officer in the Space Force dreamed of the day they were in the big chair. Tim had thought he was still very far away from commanding any ship at all, never mind one of the most advanced ships in humanity's arsenal-and with an all ranger crew to boot. He had no idea why he of all people was selected for this honor and responsibility, but he would do his best to live up to it.
"Sir, the team from the Ministry of State is boarding." one of Tim's astronauts called out to him.
"Understood, I'm going out to meet them." Tim turned to Lisa, "Lieutenant?" The woman nodded, and the pair headed to greet the arriving dignitaries.
The pair arrived at the airlock, and from it emerged a trio of well-dressed individuals, two women and one man. The elder of the two women, a short dark-skinned woman, approached first and extended her hand.
"Major Li, I'm grateful to you and your crew for providing us passage. I'm Jessica Okoro, and these are my two associates, Henry Calloway and Saito Misumi."
Tim nodded. "Welcome aboard ladies. Sir." he said, turning to the women and then the man as he spoke. The trio nodded in response. Jessica spoke again. "Could we please meet privately with you and your executive officer in your office, Major? We have much to discuss."
Tim and Lisa led the trio into Tim's office (which, truth be told, had more in common with a broom closet than an office) and turned to face the trio as the hatch closed behind them.
Jessica cleared her throat. "I'll skip straight to the point: I have some concerns about this mission. Concerns you should be aware of."
Tim's face remained expressionless. "Go on."
"We are seriously lacking in information about our alien hosts. We've interviewed all of the aliens we rescued from the Batarians, but they haven't been as informative as we'd hoped. They're mostly just working class people from a brand new colony on the fringe of galactic civilization, so they're not exactly well versed in Council Politics or diplomacy. The few educated people among them were mostly scientists and engineers, not politicians or lawyers, so they could only give us a layman's understanding of things. What all of this means is that our understanding of the political situation in Council Space comes from amateurs, and we'll have to guess when it comes to matters of protocol."
Tim raised an eyebrow. "Not exactly ideal, but you have to admit it's a damned sight better than going in completely blind, which is what would have happened if we didn't have the information from our alien guests."
Jessica looked surprised. "Oh! I wasn't implying anything or throwing blame at anyone. I was simply pointing out our less-than-ideal amount of intel for this mission. It is obviously preferable to going in blind, but, well...I'm so short handed! Three diplomats, when a mission like this would normally call for dozens!"
Tim spoke again. "I can imagine the difficulties that will cause, but this is the hand we've been dealt. If you're not aware, several of our pickets have spotted what are presumed to be scout ships in the unexplored space outside of our territory. We don't have hard evidence, but there's a good chance they're batarian ships, and an equally good chance they'll be on the hunt. A single small ship like the Samar can move with a lower profilethan a diplomatic convoy, which is the goal since we're trying to contact the council without the batarians figuring out what we're doing and using their influence to mess things up for us in advance. Don't worry, we've got the speed to outrun any batarian that comes looking for a meal. The Samar will get you there safe.
Jessica rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I understand the necessity, Major, and I don't doubt the skill of your crew or the quality of your ship. I'm just...trying to let you know of how precarious our mission is. There's a very real possibility something in the diplomatic process could go wrong in a way we can't anticipate, because we just don't know how to prepare to treat with beings who have an alien mind and alien sensibilities. I just ask that you keep that in mind if and when we encounter a council ship."
"Of course. And, if lack of intel is still a concern, you and your teams' quarters are right next to our three alien guests, so you can try and glean some more intel from them."
---
Several Days Later
Henry Calloway's eyes shined as he pressed on in his questioning. "They really breathe ammonia? That sounds inconvenient."
Neph smiled under her helmet. "It works out better than you'd think. No one else can live comfortably in their native environment, so they've got every ammonia-based garden world all to themselves." While all three of the human diplomats had been easy to get along with, Henry was the most friendly and outgoing.
Henry looked thoughtful. "Y'know, Turians have their high-radiation world, Hanar have their aquatic biology, Elcor have their high-gravity physiology, volus breathe ammonia, asari are all space wizards,"-Talerra gave an amused chuckle at that-"salarians think a mile a minute, Quarians have their unusual immune systems, and krogan are...krogan...Looking at all this, it makes us humans seem rather...mundane."
"Every species thinks they're mundane compared to aliens. To you, asari are "space wizards", but to me, it's completely normal." Talerra said.
Henry scratched the back of his head. "Well...what's unusual about humans, from an alien's perspective?"
Usit spoke up then, "Physically, there are a few peculiarities. Fairly middling in terms of raw physical strength and agility, but physical endurance is quite exceptional. Probably wouldn't beat a Quarian in footrace, would win in marathon, however. Concept of "marathon" and "cross country running" uniquely human. Krogan have some similar activities, though. More violence, of course."
Neph chimed in. "Yes, now that you mention it, some of the tales I've heard in my reading material have been quite hard to believe. Stories of people being injured out in the wilderness and crawling on their bellies for kilometers to safety, or stories of soldiers fighting for months on barely any rations and even less sleep."
Talerra spoke next. "Speaking of soldiers, I noticed that yours seem to be quite excellent shots. Easily as good as the turians. I'd say they still have you beat in terms of raw eyesight, but you might beat them out in hand-eye coordination.
Henry spoke up at that. "Well, that might not be a fair comparison. Our Rangers are the best of the best, not your average human soldiers. Our rank and file probably don't have a significantly better aim than other alien soldiers."
Talerra shrugged. "Maybe so, but I was nevertheless impressed."
Henry looked at Neph and smiled. "So. How's a quarian's aim?"
Neph snorted. "Not very good. We're always wearing our helmets, so all of us learn how to shoot with targeting software. I bet even our best soldiers would still be mediocre at best if they were somehow able to try shooting with their naked eye."
Henry's interest was piqued. "Do your people really remove their helmets so infrequently?"
Neph nodded. "Pretty much. We can only remove our suits safely in a specially sterilized environment-'clean rooms', we call them-and even then our time has to be limited. There's really only enough space on board a ship to have one clean room, so the time is rationed out among the crew and families. You've got to prepare yourself for days in advance with medications, and you only get a handful of hours, so you've got to ration your time wisely. Time spent doing something unimportant-like, say, setting up a shooting gallery so you can have a better aim with your naked eye-is time not spent doing the things you can really only do in a clean room, like taking a nice long shower, or trimming you nails and hair, or...um...'intimacy'."
Henry chuckled and leaned back, placing interlocked fingers behind his head. "I'm surprised no one's taking advantage of so many luxury-craving potential customers. Maybe I'll invest in a quarian spa once we've sorted out this diplomacy business."
Neph "Oh no, no one would ever welcome us in large enough numbers for this...spah?...to stay in business. Every once in a while a few of our scout or trade ships will be allowed to dock somewhere long enough for the the crew to have..."shore leave", I suppose you could call it, but that's about as much of the world outside the fleet the average quarian will see after their pilgrimage. We don't exactly get payed anyway, so it's not like we'd have money to spend."
Henry raised an eyebrow. "Uh...I was just kidding, but I'll let my stockbroker know your opinion." He laughed again. "Anyways, yeah, I'd imagine getting paid would kind of lose its luster when there's nothing to buy thanks to the whole 'strictly rationing every resource so we don't die' thing. Still, I'm willing to bet there will be quite a few quarians rolling in the dough in the not-too-distant future."
Neph did her best to look incredulous. "Why?"
"Think about it! What's humanity? An entire civilization that is noticeably behind the rest of the galaxy's technology, a civilization where every organization, private and public, is going to be desperately searching for alien experts to modernize their tech. What are the quarians? An entire civilization of unemployed alien experts...who regularly send out the quarian equivalent of university graduates to look for employment. It's a match made in heaven. Sure, the other races will probably send their fancy doctorate-equivalents out to solicit the new kids on the block, but the government will probably poach all of them before anyone else can. Who's left over? Our mask-wearing friends. I'm telling you, all of the corporations and companies in Human Space are going to be tripping over each other to hire quarian engineers and scientists, because the biggest rat-race in human history is about to start as all of our corporations fight to get ahead of the game-and each other-with all of the alien tech that's going to come pouring in soon. The demand will be astronomical, so the pay will be too. Sure, the other species will catch on to the opportunity eventually, but can they really compete with a species who is made up almost entirely of experienced engineers, scientists, and mechanics? I don't think so." Henry gave an amused smirk.
Every alien in the room had their eyes fixed on Henry, and he suddenly looked very sheepish. "What?"
Usit and Talerra looked at each other, and then back to Henry. Talerra spoke. "Uh...nothing. That was just a bit of an...unexpected outburst."
"Just thinking out loud. I actually studied economics and geopolitics in university, so this sort of thing is right up my alley. I meant what I said though, really. If you want my advice? Stick around with us humans once we've made our introductions. You're all educated, and you'll have money coming out of your ears if you work with our government or one of our corporations in teaching our doctors and engineers and...", he glanced at Talerra, "botanists, right?" Talerra smiled and nodded. "More or less."
Henry winked. "Right. Anyways, you'll be some very wealthy people if you stick around to teach our smart guys how to use the fancy alien tech you use in your respective fields. "
Usit had a blank expression. "Use of incomprehensible alien idioms...excessive...but understand point. Will consider."
Talerra smiled again. "If there's one thing my people have, it's spare time. Spending a decade or two working with the weird new aliens could be fun, and I'd love to see all of the plants your home world has to offer. I will also think about it."
Henry smiled, then looked to the last alien. "What about you Neph? I'd bet you could blow all the other pilgrims your age out of the water with the pilgrimage gifts you could bring back."
Neph looked up, then distractedly said. "Huh? Right, right." Before looking down at the floor again. The other three occupants of the room exchanged a glance, but Neph was too tied up in her own thoughts to notice.
In truth, she had already decided on her pilgrimage gift. It would be knowledge. She would return home, and tell tale of the incredible opportunity that awaited her people. For the first time in a very long time, there was someone that wanted the quarians.
---
Hello! As always, please share your thoughts in the replies, and thank you for reading!
April 15, 2089
Neph look out through the window at the Lunar spaceport at the ship she was to be taking to the Citadel. It was small, barely one hundred meters in length, but it was apparently state-of-the-art by human standards. It was apparently a type of ship called an "Interceptor" designed to be a sort of stunted frigate. They had a frigate-sized drive core, but were a fraction of the size of a real frigate. As such, they were faster and more maneuverable than a frigate, and their economical size and personnel cost had allowed humanity to build a much larger number of hulls than their fledging interstellar civilization would otherwise be able to support. This specific ship was apparently of a new top-of-the-line class of interceptors, with an even bigger drive core that would make it the fastest ship in human space, and give it kinetic barriers whose strength would rival those of warships three times its size.
All of the waste heat generated by these systems had to go somewhere, and that's where the ship's unique design really shined. It was a radical departure from typical human warship design, as it was flat and aerodynamic, rather than the blunted spindle shape that human warships usually had. Older interceptors were also more aerodynamic and rated for atmospheric flight, but this new model wasn't just rated for it, it was optimized for it. The most striking example of this was the radiators, which were designed to also act as wings in an atmosphere. Neph didn't know how the humans had made radiators sturdy enough for that purpose, but they had been using radiators for far longer than all of the other races had in their history, as most species quickly discovered the heat-venting technology that was so ubiquitous in Council space. Humanity had had more time and much more effort put into developing radiator technology than other races. So, ironically, it was possible they had more advanced radiator technology than everyone else. Not that it counts for much. It's like having the most advanced fossil-fuel power plant when fusion has already been discovered. Still, it proved useful in this instance.
"She's not as tough as we usually build them, but she'll get us there in one piece." a voice came from behind Neph. It was Tim, now Major Tim. "She's a lot sturdier than she looks. We might not have all of the cool toys you guys have, but we build them to last." Neph nodded politely. She'd reserve her judgement for when she was standing on the Citadel, alive. She still wasn't sure why the humans wanted to bring her with on their diplomatic mission. They'd said they'd wanted her as a witness, and had persisted despite her insistence that, as a quarian, her word wasn't good for much anyway. So, she, Talerra, and Usit were all to be ferried to the Citadel to present their story and, hopefully, help the humans to make a good first impression. The humans had promised to repatriate the other salarians once diplomatic contact with the Salarian Union was established, but none of the salarians had seemed especially eager to go back into the loving arms of the very government they had tried to get away from.
Neph was happy to help the people who had rescued her from a fate quite possibly worse than death, even if she didn't think she would be of much help. "I never got to say it properly Tim, but thank you for saving me and the others from the batarians. I know it was kind of by accident, but thank you nonetheless."
Tim smiled at her. "Not a problem. Thank you for agreeing to come on this mission. Even if what you say is true and you'll be of little help in the diplomacy, if you're half as good as your people's reputation then I'm sure you'll be an excellent source of knowledge for Lieutenant Fahri to tap into." The Lieutenant in question, Ozan Fahri, was a short, olive-skinned man of calm demeanor who gave her a small smile at Tim's words. He was to be the Chief Engineer of their small ship, and was quite eager to pick Neph's brain for engineering knowledge.
A woman's voice interjected at that. "I'd raise an objection at non-UN personnel getting a peak at the drive core of the most advanced class of ship in the fleet, but if what they say about our tech-gap is true she's probably seen better on a garbage scow." The woman, First Lieutenant Lisa Smith, the soon-to-be first officer of the ship gave a mocking sniff. "I'll just have to bear it." she said, before glancing at Neph and quickly closing one of her eyes, a motion that Neph had discovered apparently meant that there was some kind of joke, and the person being "winked" at was now in on it.
"She might be old hat to the fancy folk on the Citadel, but the Samar and the others of its class are the finest ships to ever roll off a human assembly line. I'd rather fight in her than in one of those batarian buckets you fought, Major." This voice belonged to Master Chief Astronaut Amancio Paulo. He was the shortest among the three men in the group, roughly the same height as Smith, but he was built like a brick. What could be seen of his dark black skin looked almost like it was struggling to wrap itself around his bulk. He had a shaved head and the weather-beaten face of a hardened veteran, exactly what one might imagine the senior NCO of an elite warship to look like. He had been the leader of the ranger team for the Atlanta, one of the Samar's older sisters in the class. He had been promoted and transferred to the Samar only recently, having not taken part in the trial run that Tim and the new crew had hastily conducted only a few days before.
"I think I agree with you Chief, especially since our ship is filled to the brim with rangers." Tim said. It was true. Every single member of the crew was a ranger, by order of the Secretary General. Rangers were a precious commodity, and under normal circumstances such excess wouldn't have been allowed. Fortunately for the military planners, the Samar needed only about forty-five crew. The small crew requirement of interceptors was what made the concept so appealing to the eternally personnel-hungry Space Force.
A question that Neph had wanted to ask but never had an appropriate moment for came to mind. "Saw...mar? I've heard you say it's name before, but it doesn't translate. What is it?"
Tim answered the question. "It doesn't translate because its a proper noun, the name of an island in the Philippines archipelago on Earth."
"So the ship is named after the island?" Neph asked.
"It's not. It's named after the 'Battle off Samar', a naval battle that took place near the island during our Second World War. A small Allied force of light escort ships was surprised by a vastly superior Axis force. They decided that their only option was to counter charge, and they managed to beat the odds and force the Axis fleet to retreat."
Neph nodded her understanding. She was vaguely acquainted with the Second World War. She'd spent her free time perusing through awkwardly translated articles about human history and culture, and WW2 was a very hard-to-miss part of that.
Smith was raising her eyebrows. "I can't help but notice the metaphorical implications of that battle on our current situation. Do you think command choosing this particular ship was intentional?"
Fahri chuckled. "Could be. Plenty of history nerds among the pencil pushers."
Neph snorted as well. "Well, I think it's a good name, and I'll be proud to have it ferry me."
"And we're proud to have you." Tim said.
---
Tim was notified that the crew was aboard and all of the supplies for the trip were loaded, so the group set off to gather Usit and Talerra, and then made their way to the ship's airlock. The first thing that stuck out to Neph was that the ship was horizontally oriented, unlike the vertically oriented Yuri Gagarin. It was the sensible choice for a ship designed to fly within the atmosphere of planets. The second thing that stuck out to Neph was the lack of space. It was a small ship, and wasting space was anathema to the Space Force. An extra half-meter of ceiling space would have wasted dozens of cubic meters on worthless head room. The ceiling was just high enough to accommodate the tallest of humans, but no more.
The ship had only three decks. In the middle, running the length of the ship, there was the main deck, on which Neph currently stood. It contained the CIC, bridge, engine room, computer core, and brig. The main gun was a spinal mount, running the length of the entire deck, and it could be accessed for maintenance and repair by pulling out the floorboards of the deck. Below the main deck was the cargo hold, which doubled as an armory and held a loading ramp that could be used for bringing troops in and out of combat. The top floor held the mess, crew quarters, infirmary, and CO's office. All of these decks were meant to be traversed by a central ladder, as that was the most space-efficient method. The ship's generous missile compliment was stored in a silo on the bottom of the ship, although from what Neph had heard from her conversations with the human officers the missiles were not equipped with Mass Effect drives. She had no idea what the humans hoped to accomplish with missiles that would be easily run out of fuel by any ship with a mass effect drive.
Tim turned to the three aliens when they'd made their way into the CIC. "We've thrown together some guest quarters for you in the cargo hold. Not exactly elegant, but it beats squeezing into the crew bunks. I can have one of my rangers show you the way, if you don't have any questions."
Talerra looked at Neph and Usit, who shook their heads. "I don't believe so, captain."
Tim smiled. "It's just Tim, you're not in the Space Force...and I'm not in the Navy, so if you still feel the need to address me by rank, it's "Major". He had what Neph guessed was a mock serious expression on his face as he said that. Tim continued. "We're going to be travelling for several days to get to where we picked you up, and from there we're flying blind to this primary relay on your star chart that will take us into your Council's space. It's probably going to take a while from there. So...get comfortable, I suppose."
Neph followed one of Tim's rangers. She was no stranger to lengthy periods spent on a starship, but those usually weren't as...cramped. Steeling herself for what was likely going to be an unpleasant ride, she made her way to her new quarters.
---
Major Tim Li was equal parts ecstatic and nervous, though he hid it well. He was commanding a ship-his ship-on a critically important mission for the UN. This was a huge responsibility, one that he still wasn't confident he was ready for, but...every officer in the Space Force dreamed of the day they were in the big chair. Tim had thought he was still very far away from commanding any ship at all, never mind one of the most advanced ships in humanity's arsenal-and with an all ranger crew to boot. He had no idea why he of all people was selected for this honor and responsibility, but he would do his best to live up to it.
"Sir, the team from the Ministry of State is boarding." one of Tim's astronauts called out to him.
"Understood, I'm going out to meet them." Tim turned to Lisa, "Lieutenant?" The woman nodded, and the pair headed to greet the arriving dignitaries.
The pair arrived at the airlock, and from it emerged a trio of well-dressed individuals, two women and one man. The elder of the two women, a short dark-skinned woman, approached first and extended her hand.
"Major Li, I'm grateful to you and your crew for providing us passage. I'm Jessica Okoro, and these are my two associates, Henry Calloway and Saito Misumi."
Tim nodded. "Welcome aboard ladies. Sir." he said, turning to the women and then the man as he spoke. The trio nodded in response. Jessica spoke again. "Could we please meet privately with you and your executive officer in your office, Major? We have much to discuss."
Tim and Lisa led the trio into Tim's office (which, truth be told, had more in common with a broom closet than an office) and turned to face the trio as the hatch closed behind them.
Jessica cleared her throat. "I'll skip straight to the point: I have some concerns about this mission. Concerns you should be aware of."
Tim's face remained expressionless. "Go on."
"We are seriously lacking in information about our alien hosts. We've interviewed all of the aliens we rescued from the Batarians, but they haven't been as informative as we'd hoped. They're mostly just working class people from a brand new colony on the fringe of galactic civilization, so they're not exactly well versed in Council Politics or diplomacy. The few educated people among them were mostly scientists and engineers, not politicians or lawyers, so they could only give us a layman's understanding of things. What all of this means is that our understanding of the political situation in Council Space comes from amateurs, and we'll have to guess when it comes to matters of protocol."
Tim raised an eyebrow. "Not exactly ideal, but you have to admit it's a damned sight better than going in completely blind, which is what would have happened if we didn't have the information from our alien guests."
Jessica looked surprised. "Oh! I wasn't implying anything or throwing blame at anyone. I was simply pointing out our less-than-ideal amount of intel for this mission. It is obviously preferable to going in blind, but, well...I'm so short handed! Three diplomats, when a mission like this would normally call for dozens!"
Tim spoke again. "I can imagine the difficulties that will cause, but this is the hand we've been dealt. If you're not aware, several of our pickets have spotted what are presumed to be scout ships in the unexplored space outside of our territory. We don't have hard evidence, but there's a good chance they're batarian ships, and an equally good chance they'll be on the hunt. A single small ship like the Samar can move with a lower profilethan a diplomatic convoy, which is the goal since we're trying to contact the council without the batarians figuring out what we're doing and using their influence to mess things up for us in advance. Don't worry, we've got the speed to outrun any batarian that comes looking for a meal. The Samar will get you there safe.
Jessica rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I understand the necessity, Major, and I don't doubt the skill of your crew or the quality of your ship. I'm just...trying to let you know of how precarious our mission is. There's a very real possibility something in the diplomatic process could go wrong in a way we can't anticipate, because we just don't know how to prepare to treat with beings who have an alien mind and alien sensibilities. I just ask that you keep that in mind if and when we encounter a council ship."
"Of course. And, if lack of intel is still a concern, you and your teams' quarters are right next to our three alien guests, so you can try and glean some more intel from them."
---
Several Days Later
Henry Calloway's eyes shined as he pressed on in his questioning. "They really breathe ammonia? That sounds inconvenient."
Neph smiled under her helmet. "It works out better than you'd think. No one else can live comfortably in their native environment, so they've got every ammonia-based garden world all to themselves." While all three of the human diplomats had been easy to get along with, Henry was the most friendly and outgoing.
Henry looked thoughtful. "Y'know, Turians have their high-radiation world, Hanar have their aquatic biology, Elcor have their high-gravity physiology, volus breathe ammonia, asari are all space wizards,"-Talerra gave an amused chuckle at that-"salarians think a mile a minute, Quarians have their unusual immune systems, and krogan are...krogan...Looking at all this, it makes us humans seem rather...mundane."
"Every species thinks they're mundane compared to aliens. To you, asari are "space wizards", but to me, it's completely normal." Talerra said.
Henry scratched the back of his head. "Well...what's unusual about humans, from an alien's perspective?"
Usit spoke up then, "Physically, there are a few peculiarities. Fairly middling in terms of raw physical strength and agility, but physical endurance is quite exceptional. Probably wouldn't beat a Quarian in footrace, would win in marathon, however. Concept of "marathon" and "cross country running" uniquely human. Krogan have some similar activities, though. More violence, of course."
Neph chimed in. "Yes, now that you mention it, some of the tales I've heard in my reading material have been quite hard to believe. Stories of people being injured out in the wilderness and crawling on their bellies for kilometers to safety, or stories of soldiers fighting for months on barely any rations and even less sleep."
Talerra spoke next. "Speaking of soldiers, I noticed that yours seem to be quite excellent shots. Easily as good as the turians. I'd say they still have you beat in terms of raw eyesight, but you might beat them out in hand-eye coordination.
Henry spoke up at that. "Well, that might not be a fair comparison. Our Rangers are the best of the best, not your average human soldiers. Our rank and file probably don't have a significantly better aim than other alien soldiers."
Talerra shrugged. "Maybe so, but I was nevertheless impressed."
Henry looked at Neph and smiled. "So. How's a quarian's aim?"
Neph snorted. "Not very good. We're always wearing our helmets, so all of us learn how to shoot with targeting software. I bet even our best soldiers would still be mediocre at best if they were somehow able to try shooting with their naked eye."
Henry's interest was piqued. "Do your people really remove their helmets so infrequently?"
Neph nodded. "Pretty much. We can only remove our suits safely in a specially sterilized environment-'clean rooms', we call them-and even then our time has to be limited. There's really only enough space on board a ship to have one clean room, so the time is rationed out among the crew and families. You've got to prepare yourself for days in advance with medications, and you only get a handful of hours, so you've got to ration your time wisely. Time spent doing something unimportant-like, say, setting up a shooting gallery so you can have a better aim with your naked eye-is time not spent doing the things you can really only do in a clean room, like taking a nice long shower, or trimming you nails and hair, or...um...'intimacy'."
Henry chuckled and leaned back, placing interlocked fingers behind his head. "I'm surprised no one's taking advantage of so many luxury-craving potential customers. Maybe I'll invest in a quarian spa once we've sorted out this diplomacy business."
Neph "Oh no, no one would ever welcome us in large enough numbers for this...spah?...to stay in business. Every once in a while a few of our scout or trade ships will be allowed to dock somewhere long enough for the the crew to have..."shore leave", I suppose you could call it, but that's about as much of the world outside the fleet the average quarian will see after their pilgrimage. We don't exactly get payed anyway, so it's not like we'd have money to spend."
Henry raised an eyebrow. "Uh...I was just kidding, but I'll let my stockbroker know your opinion." He laughed again. "Anyways, yeah, I'd imagine getting paid would kind of lose its luster when there's nothing to buy thanks to the whole 'strictly rationing every resource so we don't die' thing. Still, I'm willing to bet there will be quite a few quarians rolling in the dough in the not-too-distant future."
Neph did her best to look incredulous. "Why?"
"Think about it! What's humanity? An entire civilization that is noticeably behind the rest of the galaxy's technology, a civilization where every organization, private and public, is going to be desperately searching for alien experts to modernize their tech. What are the quarians? An entire civilization of unemployed alien experts...who regularly send out the quarian equivalent of university graduates to look for employment. It's a match made in heaven. Sure, the other races will probably send their fancy doctorate-equivalents out to solicit the new kids on the block, but the government will probably poach all of them before anyone else can. Who's left over? Our mask-wearing friends. I'm telling you, all of the corporations and companies in Human Space are going to be tripping over each other to hire quarian engineers and scientists, because the biggest rat-race in human history is about to start as all of our corporations fight to get ahead of the game-and each other-with all of the alien tech that's going to come pouring in soon. The demand will be astronomical, so the pay will be too. Sure, the other species will catch on to the opportunity eventually, but can they really compete with a species who is made up almost entirely of experienced engineers, scientists, and mechanics? I don't think so." Henry gave an amused smirk.
Every alien in the room had their eyes fixed on Henry, and he suddenly looked very sheepish. "What?"
Usit and Talerra looked at each other, and then back to Henry. Talerra spoke. "Uh...nothing. That was just a bit of an...unexpected outburst."
"Just thinking out loud. I actually studied economics and geopolitics in university, so this sort of thing is right up my alley. I meant what I said though, really. If you want my advice? Stick around with us humans once we've made our introductions. You're all educated, and you'll have money coming out of your ears if you work with our government or one of our corporations in teaching our doctors and engineers and...", he glanced at Talerra, "botanists, right?" Talerra smiled and nodded. "More or less."
Henry winked. "Right. Anyways, you'll be some very wealthy people if you stick around to teach our smart guys how to use the fancy alien tech you use in your respective fields. "
Usit had a blank expression. "Use of incomprehensible alien idioms...excessive...but understand point. Will consider."
Talerra smiled again. "If there's one thing my people have, it's spare time. Spending a decade or two working with the weird new aliens could be fun, and I'd love to see all of the plants your home world has to offer. I will also think about it."
Henry smiled, then looked to the last alien. "What about you Neph? I'd bet you could blow all the other pilgrims your age out of the water with the pilgrimage gifts you could bring back."
Neph looked up, then distractedly said. "Huh? Right, right." Before looking down at the floor again. The other three occupants of the room exchanged a glance, but Neph was too tied up in her own thoughts to notice.
In truth, she had already decided on her pilgrimage gift. It would be knowledge. She would return home, and tell tale of the incredible opportunity that awaited her people. For the first time in a very long time, there was someone that wanted the quarians.
---
Hello! As always, please share your thoughts in the replies, and thank you for reading!
I appreciate the comment! And rest assured, the longevity of this fic is not in doubt, as I'm actually up to about 10 chapters one the other places this story is posted (as seen in the "Links" threadmark).Honestly liking this a lot. Hope to see more soonplus you hit 5 chapters which means my hopes for the fics longevity are significantly higher than the average new fic.
Thank you very much for reading!
Fencer
Writer
- Location
- 2nd shift
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Ten chapters? That is promising! Sorry I skimmed the authors notes but I have…. Almost 200 tabs open right now. *slams head into keyboard* I was down to 120 then asked for recs to help me figure out writing romance and I stupidly started with Godslaying Baldeworks or whatever the hell the title was. Did not help took a week to get through most of it and that was with me just skimming everything that wasn't speech. Yes the writing was good but fuck I am just not compatible with the writing style.
Jesus dude! And I thought I kept too many tabs open...
Fencer
Writer
- Location
- 2nd shift
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Bleaaaaaghhhh I had a serious reduction in free time for damn near 6 months. So my normal fifty tabs grew exponentially and it's been a fight to force them back down. And weelll I've started getting alerts for fics outside the worm fandom across my usual sites because I needed the variety and I just can't seem to get the damn things below 120 for more than a day. Getting to the point I'm closing tabs if the story has existed for a month and there are less than 5 updates. Never mind the fact that the backlog of chapters from the more active stories or need to reread to figure out what's going on keeps slowing everything way the hell down.
Meeting
Turian Military Outpost 4627
May 2, 2089
Talerra rubbed the bridge of her nose, one of many expressions asari seemed to share with humans. "Commander, this is a diplomatic mission from a previously uncontacted alien race, not a raiding party."
The Turian patrol officer was unpreturbed. "The ship you are on doesn't match any known database. Regs are clear, I'm to assume hostility."
Talerra's rubbing grew more intense. "Except, seeing as how we've powered down our weapons and are openly having a dialogue with you, we're clearly not in any way hostile."
"Even so, regs are regs." was the officer's reply. Talerra wanted to smash her head against the screen. It figured they'd make first contact with the most inflexible (even by Turian standards) officer in citadel space. This was going to take a minute...
---
Tim watched the conversation between Talerra (who was acting as translator for the human diplomatic team) and the officer with equal parts amusement and apprehension. On the one hand, it was kind of funny. On the other, if things went wrong on this mission, humanity's introduction to the galactic stage could be permanently damaged. Tim sighed.
"Let's hope this is what goes wrong." he said to his first officer Lisa.
The woman raised an eyebrow at him. "Huh?"
Tim smiled. "The trip has gone smoother than we could've hoped for. Not a single sighting of batarian ships, no complications whatsoever. We're overdue for something to go wrong. So, I'm hoping this is it. I'd rather deal with a diplomatic insult from an idiot officer than have something worse happen later."
Lisa smiled back. "'Overdue'? You believe in luck, then?"
"I believe in probability. On a mission with this many moving parts, something's got to go wrong at some point."
"I don't think that's how it works."
"Yeah, well, I'm the CO, so that means that it works how I say it works until you get off this ship." Tim's smile turned into an amused grin. Lisa was about to fire the next salvo in their verbal battle when Talerra waved for them to come over. The two officers approached the diplomatic team and Talerra. Talerra spoke first. "I've managed to convince our friend that this whole situation is way above his pay grade. He wants to escort us to the nearest Turian colony, where we can make contact with the Turian government, and by extension the Council." Jessica Okoro, the leader of the diplomatic team, spoke next. "I don't see any reason for us to refuse, Major. It may not be exactly as we imagined it, but it will allow us to complete our mission."
"I suspect we don't have much choice in the matter anyway. Our turian friend seems the type to start shooting if we were to attempt to leave." Tom replied. He called out to the pilot. "Set us on a parallel course to our friend from the Council." As the ship moved in compliance with the pilot's directions, Tim and Lisa exchanged a half amused, half nervous glance, both of them thinking the same thing.
They were even more overdue now.
---
Citadel Council Chambers
April 28, 2089
Altymir Uthbar, chief ambassador of the Batarian Hegemony, approached the private meeting room where the Citadel Council awaited him. The Hegemony government had been spending the past several weeks trying to find their feet and figure out a course of action in the face of this newly encountered species. They had finally decided, and had tasked Uthbar with conveying their intentions to the Council.
Altymir stood before the three aliens and waited for them to speak.
"Ambassador Uthbar, it's so good to see you again." Yinari T'Noiro, the Asari councillor said. Altymir fought the urge to snort. It most certainly was not. Yinari had been on the council when the Batarians had dramatically left the Citadel fifteen years ago, and it had taken every ounce of political capital she had to not get thrown out of office for her failure like the other two councilors. Altymir strongly suspected that the alien loathed him, a feeling which was mutual. Still, she would be the easiest to deal with, as she could be relied upon to act in her own self interest before anything else. Ironically, that meant she might be his strongest ally, depending on how things went.
Altymir responded to the Asari. "Likewise, Councilor." He exchanged nods with the other two councilors, and then the Turian councilor, Galathor Anlian, spoke.
"You requested this meeting, so speak."
"The Hegemony has encountered a new sapient species, and, regrettably, we find ourselves to be at war with them." Altymir said.
There was an awkward silence for a moment at that. The Salarian councilor, Yuzwin Praelot, spoke next. "Assume there is further explanation?"
Altymir spoke gravely. "Yes, councilor. My government will be sending a more detailed report a few hours from now, but it is my duty to inform you now that this new race was encountered travelling through a relay, which had been opened by them in violation of interstellar law. When the private Batarian citizens that encountered them attempted to open a dialogue and make first contact, the unknown species opened fire on them. In the attack, many Batarians were killed, and an unarmed transport vessel was seized. This senseless violence is an act of war against the Hegemony, and we are mobilizing a punitive military expedition."
The three councilors stood in stunned silence as they absorbed the information. Then, Yinari spoke again. "The council must convene privately for discussion. If you would be so kind as to wait outside, ambassador?"
Altymir suppressed an elated smile. They didn't know about it, which meant that the Hegemony's security measures had worked, for once. Even the Salarian seemed surprised. Or at least, he thought that was surprise...hard to tell with Salarians.
"Of course councilors." Altymir turned and left the room.
---
As the batarian left the room, the three councilors looked at eachother for an awkwardly long moment. Finally, Galathor broke the silence. "Let's make sure we're on the same page here. This is obviously raythar shit, correct?"
Yuzwin gave Galathor the same blank stare he always did, and then spoke. "Metaphor crude, but accurate. Obvious fabrication. Will advise my government to apply intelligence assets in Hegemony space to discover the real story. Until then, advise we take no action."
Galathor was incredulous at that. "No action? Are you serious? What's the point of the Council if we just sit on our hands while a rogue belligerent species attacks an uncontacted one? We should investigate the matter, and then bring them both to the table. The Batarians aren't strong enough to refuse us."
Yuzwin spoke again at that. "May have been true at earlier time, inaccurate now. Intelligence assets report Batarians fleet approaching 65% of combined Council species size. Dramatic increase from when Hegemony broke diplomatic ties. Quality of new ships...questionable due to rushed manufacturing, but quanity is undeniable"
Galthor faltered at that, but he still tried to power on regardless. "That's...more than we might have hoped, but it's still not enough to challenge us."
"Inaccurate. Probability of victory for Batarians in defensive war with the council now approaching twenty-nine percent. Was less than five percent when they broke with council." Yuzwin said.
Galathor changed tactics. "This new species might be able to tip the scales in our favor. We can use that as leverage to force the Batarians to negotiate."
"Unlikely. Batarians aware of risk in two front war. New species is likely of negligible strength." Yuzwin said.
Galathor was gettin annoyed. "That's pure speculation!"
"Gentlemen." Yinari interrupted, "we needn't make a decision this very moment. Let's wait until we have all of the facts before we debate in earnest. Let's declare our intent to investigate." The other two councilors nodded their begrudging agreement. Yinari called the batarian ambassador back in.
---
Altymir entered the room, expertly hiding his nerves from the Councilors. He approached the trio and waited for them to speak. It was Yinari who spoke first. "Ambassador, we have deliberated, and have ultimately decided that we have little choice but to conduct a full investigation, in which we would request the cooperation of the Batarian Hegemony."
Altymir nodded sagely. "Of course. It's only logical to want to investigate the matter for yourselves. You will naturally have the full cooperation of the Hegemony in this endeavor." He bowed slightly, and the three councilors returned the gesture. Inwardly, Altymir did the Batarian equivalent of an eye-roll. The Council had acted more or less exactly according to his leadership's expectations. It was quite a challenge to convince the Council to do something. Convincing them to do nothing, on the other hand, was very easy indeed. They had tilled the field themselves, now he need only plant the seed.
---
Citadel Council Space
April 30, 2089
As the Samar sat waiting in line for docking clearance, Tim couldn't help but feel that the awe he felt at seeing this symbol of wondrous alien civilization before him was beginning to wear thin. That something as mundane as the concept of "waiting in line" and "docking clearance" even existed within the minds of beings from a completely separate strain of organic life than him was rather disappointing. He still gave the order to dock at the appropriate clamp when the clearance came.
As the diplomatic team gathered at the Samar's entrance hatch to disembark, along with Tim and an honor guard of rangers, Jessica turned to the people assembled before her and spoke. "We are about to encounter representatives of an alien civilization. I must remind you to please leave the talking to myself and my team, as we have the training for it. As for you, Major, I would ask that you follow the same rule, though of course if you're asked a direct question, answer it. Now, without further ado...let's make history."
The hatch opened, and from it came a trio of rangers. Behind them were the diplomats, the aliens, and Tim. The humans had already gone through the litany of tests and decontamination procedures that naturally came with any (conventional) first contact scenario, so now all that was left was the introductions. The rangers assumed honor guard positions, and diplomatic team descended from the ship. They approached the trio that they now knew to be the council. The two groups stood there for a few heartbeats, taking each other in. Then, the asari councilor spoke.
"Welcome to the Citadel. While the circumstances are...tense...I still must say that it is a great pleasure to be among the first individuals to finally meet you. I am Yinari T'Noiro, I represent the Asari on the Citadel Council."
Jessica gave her best diplomat's smile in response, though Tim was certain she was just as troubled by the Asari's choice of words as he was. "I must agree with your sentiment. It is a pleasure to be a part of such a historic event. I am Jessica Okoro, chosen representative for the human species by our United Nations." The pleasantries continued, with each councilor introducing themselves, and Jessica introducing each of the humans present. The conversation took an abrupt turn when Yinari spoke again. "I must say that we have been anticipating contact with your people for a few days now, and I believe you and your three 'witnesses' will be the final pieces we need to solve the puzzle. We still need your side of the story."
Jessica's diplomatic smile didn't falter. "And why might that be?" The Asari smiled as well. "I can explain everything if you and your people would meet with us privately. I will have to ask you to limit your number of guards to two." Jessica glanced at him politely. Tim was mildly amused at her attempt to pretend she was giving him a choice as her head of security. Not that it would have mattered: if the council wanted them dead at this stage, there was little Tim could do about it, anyway. He spoke. "That would be acceptable."
The asari smiled again. "Excellent. Please, if you would all follow me." The asari and the two other councilors walked off. Tim motion to two of his rangers, and they followed behind the human group. As they entered the private room, Tim was shocked to find himself face to face with a Batarian for the first time since he'd boarded their ship what felt like a decade ago. The implications of the Batarian's presence didn't click with him immediately, but they did with Jessica. She spoke. "Councilors, why is this individual present for our private talks?" The asari made a placating gesture. "This is ambassador Altymir, representative of the Batarian Hegemony, the species with which you unfortunately find yourself...at odds with. He is present so that we can get to the bottom of this unfortunate incident. We ask that the both of you give your version of events."
Jessica's expression was unchanging. "I see."
Yinari turned to the batarian. "Altymir, we've already read your government's statement, but for our friend here's benefit, would you please give us your people's version of events?"
The batarian's expression was just as neutral as Jessica's. "Certainly. Some weeks ago, a small flotilla of private batarian ships was performing a freelance survey of the largely unsettled space near our territory. They came upon a relay that their records told them was dormant, and yet was clearly open. As opening relays is of course a breach of galactic law, the private group elected to wait and see if the individuals responsible for opening the relay would show themselves, so that they could report them to the proper authorities. The culprit did return to the relay, but to their surprise it was a ship from an as of then undiscovered species. When the captain in charge of the flotilla attempted to make contact with the ship, it opened fire. Caught by surprise, the two smaller ships in the flotilla were damaged and forced to retreat, and the larger ship they were escorting was helpless to resist as it was illegally boarded and seized by the hostile species. The two surviving ships then limped their way back to a batarian port, where they immediately reported the incident to Hegemony authorities. This is where our account of the event ends, as obviously we do not know what transpired on the illegally seized vessel."
The humans and their alien compatriots all stared at the batarian, dumbfounded by the blatant lie. Yinari simply turned to the human delegation and asked "May we here your version of events, please?"
Jessica spoke carefully. "I'm afraid that almost everything in the ambassador's statement is an abject falsehood. Our version of events is thus: The UNS Yuri Gagarin was a military craft on a mission of exploration through the recently opened relay. And, yes, we do freely admit to having opened a relay. Obviously it would have been impossible for us to know we were breaking the rules of an organization whose existence we were not even aware of. Regardless, the Yuri was on a return trip from its mission when it came upon three unidentified contacts. The Yuri was almost immediately fired upon, much to the bewilderment of its commanding officer. Nevertheless, he still transmitted his first contact protocol communication package, even as he ordered the crew to charge weapons to defend themselves. The Yuri was able to drive off the two escorting ships and commence a boarding operation. Which we, again, freely admit to, as any galactic law against such would obviously be something we were not aware of. Our very own Major Li here led the operation, seizing control of the ship and rescuing the captives aboard, three of which stand before you here." Jessica gestured to the alien trio.
Altymir laughed. "I assume you have some proof of these baseless accusations?" Jessica smiled humorlessly. "Of course." She gestured to Henry, who tapped at his tablet briefly before presenting it to the council. Jessica narrated. "This is the infrared footage from one of the Yuri's telescopes. These three shapes are the three batarian ships. We chose this particular angle because it offers a good view of the Yuri's spinal mount, which as you can see is not heated in any way, which would obviously not be the case if the Yuri had opened fire before this moment. You can see the flash from the lead ship as it opens fire. The batarians fired first, I'm afraid."
Ambassador Altymir looked amused. "Ah, and let me guess, this is the best footage your technology can offer us? Some grainy infrared image? It would be laughably easy to doctor such an image to one's desired effect. How long must this farce continue? They obviously have no intention of telling the truth, and I am not willing to waste my time or the Hegemony's time pursuing peace when their side cannot even admit the most basic facts. Not to mention what I suspect their other 'evidence' will be. The word of a Quarian pilgrim, a failed Salarian doctor, and an Asari reject?" at the stares being sent his way he laughed. "Oh yes, I've read the files. While I concede it's possible they were at some point enslaved by rogue elements, they were after all a private entity separate from the Hegemony, there's no way the crew of this 'Yuri' could have possibly have known they were on board, so don't try to use that as some sort of fabricated justification either."
It was Jessica's turn to laugh. "Is this how the law works in this part of the galaxy? I present evidence, and he can simply say 'it's not real evidence' without being laughed out of court?"
Yinari hastily butt in. "This is not a legal proceeding."
Jessica raised an eyebrow. "Then what, may I ask, is the purpose of this meeting?"
"We are simply trying to get all of the information. This is merely a preliminary hearing. We can discuss these matters in greater detail over the coming days."
"We may be under attack by then." Jessica was legitimately astonished. "Are you not even going to demand a cessation of hostilities? We can't achieve anything diplomatically if our people's are actively at war with each other."
Yinari gave a fake smile. "This is an external matter between two species who are entirely outside of our jurisdiction. While we will happily mediate a peace agreement between yourselves, we will not be intervening at this time." Altymir nodded sagely. "We will, of course, be happy to negotiate a deal once the human's fleet stands down and withdraws from its current position."
Jessica was getting heated. "Those are defensive positions. You can't seriously expect us to leave ourselves wide open for attack in the name of a hypothetical peace you haven't even committed to in writing, can you?"
Altymir gave a condescending smile. "The only thing I expect is that you will continue your impulsive and belligerent activity, heedless of the advice of your elder races, like all youthful species."
Jessica laughed once again, without humor. She turned to the council. "And now we're being patronized. Was there any real purpose to our coming here, or have you already decided it would be too much trouble to prevent the subjugation of my entire species?" The council's faces had a completely blank expression, which Tim had learned was a tell for diplomats that meant they were concealing an emotional reaction. Not a good sign.
Yinari spoke calmly. "We would of course like to establish infrastructure for communication with your species, and would like to establish diplomatic contact with your people, among other things. Things which we can discuss in greater detail tomorrow. It is technically night time at the moment, and I'm sure you are all very tired from your journey. As I said, this was merely a preliminary hearing, which we decided to do immediately upon your arrival due to the urgency of the issue. We can show you to quarters if-"
"Our ship will suit us fine for tonight, thank you." Jessica interrupted. Yinari looked annoyed for a moment but masked it an instant later. "Of course, whatever makes you feel comfortable. You can get acclimated to your new quarters tomorrow."
Jessica smiled another diplomat's smile. "Of course. Now, if you'll excuse us..." She got up to leave, not waiting for permission. The other humans followed her.
---
Neph walked with the humans, happy to have her helmet for once, so no one could see her decidedly undiplomatic facial expressions. As they distanced themselves from the council on the way back to their ship, Tim spoke first.
"So, that went...poorly."
Talerra snorted. "I'll say. This was an astonishing level of stupidity and inaction, even by Council standards."
Jessica spoke, anger growing in her voice. "They were fishing for reasons not to intervene. That's why they kept that idiot in the room, so he could spout surface-level justifications for them not to intervene. This was a complete waste of time. They never had any intention of helping us."
Hung out to dry by the council. I think there are some people I know who can relate to that. Neph thought with a mix of amusement and despair.
Jessica went on. "I think I'm going to dispatch you back to Earth, Tim. They'll want to know just how completely on our own we really are.
A thought struck Neph. She almost didn't say anything, for fear of them laughing in her face. Then she mentally slapped herself. These are good people. They saved my life. If I can do something to help them, I have to .
Neph spoke. "Umm...I have a suggestion." Everyone stopped and turned to face her, making Neph want to shrink into her boots. Good people good people. Goooood people. Neph cleared her throat. "Um...well, my people aren't part of the council anymore, and...well...you were talking about us earlier Henry, and I just thought...oh, nevermind, it was a stupid idea anyway." Henry caught on first. "Hold on, Neph. Are you saying we should try and contact your people?"
"Um, well, y'know, uh...yes?"
Jessica held her hand up to her chin. "That's...not a bad idea. In fact, I think it's the best thing we could do right now."
Neph blinked. "It is?"
Jessica nodded. "Yes. I strongly suspect we'll be short of friends with the council turning its nose up at us. Courting the Quarians, one of the most powerful non-citadel races, is the logical move."
Neph blinked again, and grew instantly nervous. "Oh, no! I..uh, I didn't mean to get your hopes up! I can't promise that we'll become your allies or something. I don't have that kind of influence..."
Henry's typical enthusiasm came up. "It's fine, we'll need technology and qualified personnel just as much as we'd need ships and soldiers. If anything, we'll need them more now, as I doubt we'll find many sellers in Council space now. Well, not many legitimate ones, anyway."
Tim interrupted. "What about returning to Earth and informing the UN? Wasn't that kind of important?"
Jessica shrugged. "If I'm being honest...not really. For one, the batarian is obviously here to stall for time. I don't think the Hegemony is ready to start the war yet. And, truth be told, I don't think it will make much difference if the UN knows what's going on here or not. Nothing we tell them will enable them to prepare anymore than they already have. The only new information we'd have for them is confirmation of what they already suspect: we're on our own. I think securing some new friends-and their technology-will be a lot more helpful in the long run."
She turned to Henry. "I will stay here with Saito, a few rangers guards, and our alien friends, barring Neph of course. Her absence might have harmed our case before, but seeing as how they clearly never had any intention of giving us a chance in the first place, I doubt it matters much now. Henry will go with Neph and the others to wherever the migrant fleet is and attempt to make contact. Saito and I will try to salvage whatever we can from this disaster, or at the very least buy us some more time."
Henry raised an eyebrow. "What if the council won't let us leave?"
Jessica raised an eyebrow back. "Then you don't get to leave. We don't have any power here, if they want to prevent us from leaving, they can. I doubt they will though, especially since I won't be telling them about the little Quarian vacation you'll be taking on your way back to Earth."
Henry grinned at that. "I like this plan."
Jessica smiled back. "I'm glad. Sorry to throw you into the deep end like this, kid."
Neph didn't know what a "deep end" was, but she could guess the metaphor's meaning. She looked at the young man. She hoped Henry's youth and inexperience wouldn't torpedo human-quarian relations before they even started.
---
As always, thank you for reading, and please share your thoughts in the replies.
May 2, 2089
Talerra rubbed the bridge of her nose, one of many expressions asari seemed to share with humans. "Commander, this is a diplomatic mission from a previously uncontacted alien race, not a raiding party."
The Turian patrol officer was unpreturbed. "The ship you are on doesn't match any known database. Regs are clear, I'm to assume hostility."
Talerra's rubbing grew more intense. "Except, seeing as how we've powered down our weapons and are openly having a dialogue with you, we're clearly not in any way hostile."
"Even so, regs are regs." was the officer's reply. Talerra wanted to smash her head against the screen. It figured they'd make first contact with the most inflexible (even by Turian standards) officer in citadel space. This was going to take a minute...
---
Tim watched the conversation between Talerra (who was acting as translator for the human diplomatic team) and the officer with equal parts amusement and apprehension. On the one hand, it was kind of funny. On the other, if things went wrong on this mission, humanity's introduction to the galactic stage could be permanently damaged. Tim sighed.
"Let's hope this is what goes wrong." he said to his first officer Lisa.
The woman raised an eyebrow at him. "Huh?"
Tim smiled. "The trip has gone smoother than we could've hoped for. Not a single sighting of batarian ships, no complications whatsoever. We're overdue for something to go wrong. So, I'm hoping this is it. I'd rather deal with a diplomatic insult from an idiot officer than have something worse happen later."
Lisa smiled back. "'Overdue'? You believe in luck, then?"
"I believe in probability. On a mission with this many moving parts, something's got to go wrong at some point."
"I don't think that's how it works."
"Yeah, well, I'm the CO, so that means that it works how I say it works until you get off this ship." Tim's smile turned into an amused grin. Lisa was about to fire the next salvo in their verbal battle when Talerra waved for them to come over. The two officers approached the diplomatic team and Talerra. Talerra spoke first. "I've managed to convince our friend that this whole situation is way above his pay grade. He wants to escort us to the nearest Turian colony, where we can make contact with the Turian government, and by extension the Council." Jessica Okoro, the leader of the diplomatic team, spoke next. "I don't see any reason for us to refuse, Major. It may not be exactly as we imagined it, but it will allow us to complete our mission."
"I suspect we don't have much choice in the matter anyway. Our turian friend seems the type to start shooting if we were to attempt to leave." Tom replied. He called out to the pilot. "Set us on a parallel course to our friend from the Council." As the ship moved in compliance with the pilot's directions, Tim and Lisa exchanged a half amused, half nervous glance, both of them thinking the same thing.
They were even more overdue now.
---
Citadel Council Chambers
April 28, 2089
Altymir Uthbar, chief ambassador of the Batarian Hegemony, approached the private meeting room where the Citadel Council awaited him. The Hegemony government had been spending the past several weeks trying to find their feet and figure out a course of action in the face of this newly encountered species. They had finally decided, and had tasked Uthbar with conveying their intentions to the Council.
Altymir stood before the three aliens and waited for them to speak.
"Ambassador Uthbar, it's so good to see you again." Yinari T'Noiro, the Asari councillor said. Altymir fought the urge to snort. It most certainly was not. Yinari had been on the council when the Batarians had dramatically left the Citadel fifteen years ago, and it had taken every ounce of political capital she had to not get thrown out of office for her failure like the other two councilors. Altymir strongly suspected that the alien loathed him, a feeling which was mutual. Still, she would be the easiest to deal with, as she could be relied upon to act in her own self interest before anything else. Ironically, that meant she might be his strongest ally, depending on how things went.
Altymir responded to the Asari. "Likewise, Councilor." He exchanged nods with the other two councilors, and then the Turian councilor, Galathor Anlian, spoke.
"You requested this meeting, so speak."
"The Hegemony has encountered a new sapient species, and, regrettably, we find ourselves to be at war with them." Altymir said.
There was an awkward silence for a moment at that. The Salarian councilor, Yuzwin Praelot, spoke next. "Assume there is further explanation?"
Altymir spoke gravely. "Yes, councilor. My government will be sending a more detailed report a few hours from now, but it is my duty to inform you now that this new race was encountered travelling through a relay, which had been opened by them in violation of interstellar law. When the private Batarian citizens that encountered them attempted to open a dialogue and make first contact, the unknown species opened fire on them. In the attack, many Batarians were killed, and an unarmed transport vessel was seized. This senseless violence is an act of war against the Hegemony, and we are mobilizing a punitive military expedition."
The three councilors stood in stunned silence as they absorbed the information. Then, Yinari spoke again. "The council must convene privately for discussion. If you would be so kind as to wait outside, ambassador?"
Altymir suppressed an elated smile. They didn't know about it, which meant that the Hegemony's security measures had worked, for once. Even the Salarian seemed surprised. Or at least, he thought that was surprise...hard to tell with Salarians.
"Of course councilors." Altymir turned and left the room.
---
As the batarian left the room, the three councilors looked at eachother for an awkwardly long moment. Finally, Galathor broke the silence. "Let's make sure we're on the same page here. This is obviously raythar shit, correct?"
Yuzwin gave Galathor the same blank stare he always did, and then spoke. "Metaphor crude, but accurate. Obvious fabrication. Will advise my government to apply intelligence assets in Hegemony space to discover the real story. Until then, advise we take no action."
Galathor was incredulous at that. "No action? Are you serious? What's the point of the Council if we just sit on our hands while a rogue belligerent species attacks an uncontacted one? We should investigate the matter, and then bring them both to the table. The Batarians aren't strong enough to refuse us."
Yuzwin spoke again at that. "May have been true at earlier time, inaccurate now. Intelligence assets report Batarians fleet approaching 65% of combined Council species size. Dramatic increase from when Hegemony broke diplomatic ties. Quality of new ships...questionable due to rushed manufacturing, but quanity is undeniable"
Galthor faltered at that, but he still tried to power on regardless. "That's...more than we might have hoped, but it's still not enough to challenge us."
"Inaccurate. Probability of victory for Batarians in defensive war with the council now approaching twenty-nine percent. Was less than five percent when they broke with council." Yuzwin said.
Galathor changed tactics. "This new species might be able to tip the scales in our favor. We can use that as leverage to force the Batarians to negotiate."
"Unlikely. Batarians aware of risk in two front war. New species is likely of negligible strength." Yuzwin said.
Galathor was gettin annoyed. "That's pure speculation!"
"Gentlemen." Yinari interrupted, "we needn't make a decision this very moment. Let's wait until we have all of the facts before we debate in earnest. Let's declare our intent to investigate." The other two councilors nodded their begrudging agreement. Yinari called the batarian ambassador back in.
---
Altymir entered the room, expertly hiding his nerves from the Councilors. He approached the trio and waited for them to speak. It was Yinari who spoke first. "Ambassador, we have deliberated, and have ultimately decided that we have little choice but to conduct a full investigation, in which we would request the cooperation of the Batarian Hegemony."
Altymir nodded sagely. "Of course. It's only logical to want to investigate the matter for yourselves. You will naturally have the full cooperation of the Hegemony in this endeavor." He bowed slightly, and the three councilors returned the gesture. Inwardly, Altymir did the Batarian equivalent of an eye-roll. The Council had acted more or less exactly according to his leadership's expectations. It was quite a challenge to convince the Council to do something. Convincing them to do nothing, on the other hand, was very easy indeed. They had tilled the field themselves, now he need only plant the seed.
---
Citadel Council Space
April 30, 2089
As the Samar sat waiting in line for docking clearance, Tim couldn't help but feel that the awe he felt at seeing this symbol of wondrous alien civilization before him was beginning to wear thin. That something as mundane as the concept of "waiting in line" and "docking clearance" even existed within the minds of beings from a completely separate strain of organic life than him was rather disappointing. He still gave the order to dock at the appropriate clamp when the clearance came.
As the diplomatic team gathered at the Samar's entrance hatch to disembark, along with Tim and an honor guard of rangers, Jessica turned to the people assembled before her and spoke. "We are about to encounter representatives of an alien civilization. I must remind you to please leave the talking to myself and my team, as we have the training for it. As for you, Major, I would ask that you follow the same rule, though of course if you're asked a direct question, answer it. Now, without further ado...let's make history."
The hatch opened, and from it came a trio of rangers. Behind them were the diplomats, the aliens, and Tim. The humans had already gone through the litany of tests and decontamination procedures that naturally came with any (conventional) first contact scenario, so now all that was left was the introductions. The rangers assumed honor guard positions, and diplomatic team descended from the ship. They approached the trio that they now knew to be the council. The two groups stood there for a few heartbeats, taking each other in. Then, the asari councilor spoke.
"Welcome to the Citadel. While the circumstances are...tense...I still must say that it is a great pleasure to be among the first individuals to finally meet you. I am Yinari T'Noiro, I represent the Asari on the Citadel Council."
Jessica gave her best diplomat's smile in response, though Tim was certain she was just as troubled by the Asari's choice of words as he was. "I must agree with your sentiment. It is a pleasure to be a part of such a historic event. I am Jessica Okoro, chosen representative for the human species by our United Nations." The pleasantries continued, with each councilor introducing themselves, and Jessica introducing each of the humans present. The conversation took an abrupt turn when Yinari spoke again. "I must say that we have been anticipating contact with your people for a few days now, and I believe you and your three 'witnesses' will be the final pieces we need to solve the puzzle. We still need your side of the story."
Jessica's diplomatic smile didn't falter. "And why might that be?" The Asari smiled as well. "I can explain everything if you and your people would meet with us privately. I will have to ask you to limit your number of guards to two." Jessica glanced at him politely. Tim was mildly amused at her attempt to pretend she was giving him a choice as her head of security. Not that it would have mattered: if the council wanted them dead at this stage, there was little Tim could do about it, anyway. He spoke. "That would be acceptable."
The asari smiled again. "Excellent. Please, if you would all follow me." The asari and the two other councilors walked off. Tim motion to two of his rangers, and they followed behind the human group. As they entered the private room, Tim was shocked to find himself face to face with a Batarian for the first time since he'd boarded their ship what felt like a decade ago. The implications of the Batarian's presence didn't click with him immediately, but they did with Jessica. She spoke. "Councilors, why is this individual present for our private talks?" The asari made a placating gesture. "This is ambassador Altymir, representative of the Batarian Hegemony, the species with which you unfortunately find yourself...at odds with. He is present so that we can get to the bottom of this unfortunate incident. We ask that the both of you give your version of events."
Jessica's expression was unchanging. "I see."
Yinari turned to the batarian. "Altymir, we've already read your government's statement, but for our friend here's benefit, would you please give us your people's version of events?"
The batarian's expression was just as neutral as Jessica's. "Certainly. Some weeks ago, a small flotilla of private batarian ships was performing a freelance survey of the largely unsettled space near our territory. They came upon a relay that their records told them was dormant, and yet was clearly open. As opening relays is of course a breach of galactic law, the private group elected to wait and see if the individuals responsible for opening the relay would show themselves, so that they could report them to the proper authorities. The culprit did return to the relay, but to their surprise it was a ship from an as of then undiscovered species. When the captain in charge of the flotilla attempted to make contact with the ship, it opened fire. Caught by surprise, the two smaller ships in the flotilla were damaged and forced to retreat, and the larger ship they were escorting was helpless to resist as it was illegally boarded and seized by the hostile species. The two surviving ships then limped their way back to a batarian port, where they immediately reported the incident to Hegemony authorities. This is where our account of the event ends, as obviously we do not know what transpired on the illegally seized vessel."
The humans and their alien compatriots all stared at the batarian, dumbfounded by the blatant lie. Yinari simply turned to the human delegation and asked "May we here your version of events, please?"
Jessica spoke carefully. "I'm afraid that almost everything in the ambassador's statement is an abject falsehood. Our version of events is thus: The UNS Yuri Gagarin was a military craft on a mission of exploration through the recently opened relay. And, yes, we do freely admit to having opened a relay. Obviously it would have been impossible for us to know we were breaking the rules of an organization whose existence we were not even aware of. Regardless, the Yuri was on a return trip from its mission when it came upon three unidentified contacts. The Yuri was almost immediately fired upon, much to the bewilderment of its commanding officer. Nevertheless, he still transmitted his first contact protocol communication package, even as he ordered the crew to charge weapons to defend themselves. The Yuri was able to drive off the two escorting ships and commence a boarding operation. Which we, again, freely admit to, as any galactic law against such would obviously be something we were not aware of. Our very own Major Li here led the operation, seizing control of the ship and rescuing the captives aboard, three of which stand before you here." Jessica gestured to the alien trio.
Altymir laughed. "I assume you have some proof of these baseless accusations?" Jessica smiled humorlessly. "Of course." She gestured to Henry, who tapped at his tablet briefly before presenting it to the council. Jessica narrated. "This is the infrared footage from one of the Yuri's telescopes. These three shapes are the three batarian ships. We chose this particular angle because it offers a good view of the Yuri's spinal mount, which as you can see is not heated in any way, which would obviously not be the case if the Yuri had opened fire before this moment. You can see the flash from the lead ship as it opens fire. The batarians fired first, I'm afraid."
Ambassador Altymir looked amused. "Ah, and let me guess, this is the best footage your technology can offer us? Some grainy infrared image? It would be laughably easy to doctor such an image to one's desired effect. How long must this farce continue? They obviously have no intention of telling the truth, and I am not willing to waste my time or the Hegemony's time pursuing peace when their side cannot even admit the most basic facts. Not to mention what I suspect their other 'evidence' will be. The word of a Quarian pilgrim, a failed Salarian doctor, and an Asari reject?" at the stares being sent his way he laughed. "Oh yes, I've read the files. While I concede it's possible they were at some point enslaved by rogue elements, they were after all a private entity separate from the Hegemony, there's no way the crew of this 'Yuri' could have possibly have known they were on board, so don't try to use that as some sort of fabricated justification either."
It was Jessica's turn to laugh. "Is this how the law works in this part of the galaxy? I present evidence, and he can simply say 'it's not real evidence' without being laughed out of court?"
Yinari hastily butt in. "This is not a legal proceeding."
Jessica raised an eyebrow. "Then what, may I ask, is the purpose of this meeting?"
"We are simply trying to get all of the information. This is merely a preliminary hearing. We can discuss these matters in greater detail over the coming days."
"We may be under attack by then." Jessica was legitimately astonished. "Are you not even going to demand a cessation of hostilities? We can't achieve anything diplomatically if our people's are actively at war with each other."
Yinari gave a fake smile. "This is an external matter between two species who are entirely outside of our jurisdiction. While we will happily mediate a peace agreement between yourselves, we will not be intervening at this time." Altymir nodded sagely. "We will, of course, be happy to negotiate a deal once the human's fleet stands down and withdraws from its current position."
Jessica was getting heated. "Those are defensive positions. You can't seriously expect us to leave ourselves wide open for attack in the name of a hypothetical peace you haven't even committed to in writing, can you?"
Altymir gave a condescending smile. "The only thing I expect is that you will continue your impulsive and belligerent activity, heedless of the advice of your elder races, like all youthful species."
Jessica laughed once again, without humor. She turned to the council. "And now we're being patronized. Was there any real purpose to our coming here, or have you already decided it would be too much trouble to prevent the subjugation of my entire species?" The council's faces had a completely blank expression, which Tim had learned was a tell for diplomats that meant they were concealing an emotional reaction. Not a good sign.
Yinari spoke calmly. "We would of course like to establish infrastructure for communication with your species, and would like to establish diplomatic contact with your people, among other things. Things which we can discuss in greater detail tomorrow. It is technically night time at the moment, and I'm sure you are all very tired from your journey. As I said, this was merely a preliminary hearing, which we decided to do immediately upon your arrival due to the urgency of the issue. We can show you to quarters if-"
"Our ship will suit us fine for tonight, thank you." Jessica interrupted. Yinari looked annoyed for a moment but masked it an instant later. "Of course, whatever makes you feel comfortable. You can get acclimated to your new quarters tomorrow."
Jessica smiled another diplomat's smile. "Of course. Now, if you'll excuse us..." She got up to leave, not waiting for permission. The other humans followed her.
---
Neph walked with the humans, happy to have her helmet for once, so no one could see her decidedly undiplomatic facial expressions. As they distanced themselves from the council on the way back to their ship, Tim spoke first.
"So, that went...poorly."
Talerra snorted. "I'll say. This was an astonishing level of stupidity and inaction, even by Council standards."
Jessica spoke, anger growing in her voice. "They were fishing for reasons not to intervene. That's why they kept that idiot in the room, so he could spout surface-level justifications for them not to intervene. This was a complete waste of time. They never had any intention of helping us."
Hung out to dry by the council. I think there are some people I know who can relate to that. Neph thought with a mix of amusement and despair.
Jessica went on. "I think I'm going to dispatch you back to Earth, Tim. They'll want to know just how completely on our own we really are.
A thought struck Neph. She almost didn't say anything, for fear of them laughing in her face. Then she mentally slapped herself. These are good people. They saved my life. If I can do something to help them, I have to .
Neph spoke. "Umm...I have a suggestion." Everyone stopped and turned to face her, making Neph want to shrink into her boots. Good people good people. Goooood people. Neph cleared her throat. "Um...well, my people aren't part of the council anymore, and...well...you were talking about us earlier Henry, and I just thought...oh, nevermind, it was a stupid idea anyway." Henry caught on first. "Hold on, Neph. Are you saying we should try and contact your people?"
"Um, well, y'know, uh...yes?"
Jessica held her hand up to her chin. "That's...not a bad idea. In fact, I think it's the best thing we could do right now."
Neph blinked. "It is?"
Jessica nodded. "Yes. I strongly suspect we'll be short of friends with the council turning its nose up at us. Courting the Quarians, one of the most powerful non-citadel races, is the logical move."
Neph blinked again, and grew instantly nervous. "Oh, no! I..uh, I didn't mean to get your hopes up! I can't promise that we'll become your allies or something. I don't have that kind of influence..."
Henry's typical enthusiasm came up. "It's fine, we'll need technology and qualified personnel just as much as we'd need ships and soldiers. If anything, we'll need them more now, as I doubt we'll find many sellers in Council space now. Well, not many legitimate ones, anyway."
Tim interrupted. "What about returning to Earth and informing the UN? Wasn't that kind of important?"
Jessica shrugged. "If I'm being honest...not really. For one, the batarian is obviously here to stall for time. I don't think the Hegemony is ready to start the war yet. And, truth be told, I don't think it will make much difference if the UN knows what's going on here or not. Nothing we tell them will enable them to prepare anymore than they already have. The only new information we'd have for them is confirmation of what they already suspect: we're on our own. I think securing some new friends-and their technology-will be a lot more helpful in the long run."
She turned to Henry. "I will stay here with Saito, a few rangers guards, and our alien friends, barring Neph of course. Her absence might have harmed our case before, but seeing as how they clearly never had any intention of giving us a chance in the first place, I doubt it matters much now. Henry will go with Neph and the others to wherever the migrant fleet is and attempt to make contact. Saito and I will try to salvage whatever we can from this disaster, or at the very least buy us some more time."
Henry raised an eyebrow. "What if the council won't let us leave?"
Jessica raised an eyebrow back. "Then you don't get to leave. We don't have any power here, if they want to prevent us from leaving, they can. I doubt they will though, especially since I won't be telling them about the little Quarian vacation you'll be taking on your way back to Earth."
Henry grinned at that. "I like this plan."
Jessica smiled back. "I'm glad. Sorry to throw you into the deep end like this, kid."
Neph didn't know what a "deep end" was, but she could guess the metaphor's meaning. She looked at the young man. She hoped Henry's youth and inexperience wouldn't torpedo human-quarian relations before they even started.
---
As always, thank you for reading, and please share your thoughts in the replies.
Offer
May 5, 2089
Unclaimed Space
As the Samar approached the Migrant Fleet, Neph stood on the bridge, waiting to open communications with her people. A quarian voice came over the ship's comm system. "Incoming ship, state your identity."
Neph took a deep breath, and then spoke. "This is Neph'Olis nar Rayya, I am returning from my pilgrimage and bring important information and alien visitors with me."
There was a pause on the other end. "Neph'Olis nar Rayya is believed dead, and your ship is not showing up on any database, please verify."
"After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began."
Another pause, and then "Confirmed. Approach the Rayya for docking and decontamination, and then you'll explain what's going on."
"Understood." Neph closed the comm and let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She turned to Henry. "Anyone that comes aboard with me will have to go through decontamination and wear an environment suit. I hope it won't be too much trouble..."
"Not at all. We're the guests here, after all. It wouldn't be good for first impressions if I threw a tantrum over having to take a bath." Henry joked.
Neph did her best to smile, not that it mattered much, and tried to quell the unpleasant nervous feeling in her stomach at the realization that her people thought she was dead.
Henry turned to Tim. "Major, I think both you and your officers should attend as well." As Tim opened his mouth to protest, Henry raised his palms in a placating gesture. "Yeah, I know, regulations don't like it when the CO leaves the ship when it isn't in port, but this is important. If what I've been reading hasn't all been bullshit and stereotypes, ship captains have a lot of cultural importance to the quarians. Having you stay behind could be seen as a slight. Docking with one of the life ships is kind of like being "in port" to them anyway, so if it makes you feel better..."
Tim turned to Neph. "Do you think this will help?"
Neph cocked her head to the side. "Yes. I just assumed you would be coming in the first place. Sorry, cultural biases showing, I suppose. Having your officers be present would also be seen as a sign of respect."
Tim let out a sigh and said "Alright. I'll have the others meet us in decontamination." he keyed his intercom. "Chief Paulo, you have the bridge." If the senior NCO of the ship was surprised at being placed in command, it didn't show in his voice. "Aye, sir. Making my way there now."
---
The quarian decon team ran their equipment over his environment suit, Henry couldn't help but feel like it was redundant, considering he'd just spent thirty minutes going through the lengthy process of decontamination on the Samar.
I suppose when a stiff breeze can kill you, there's no such thing as "redundant" precautions. He tried not to laugh at his own mental attempt at humor, a habit of his that his teachers in the diplomatic corps had gone to great lengths to break.
---
Neph felt her sense of unease grow as she watched Henry. I could've sworn I just heard him laugh. Neph liked Henry, but he was still very...odd. Even by alien standards. How anyone had looked at him and seen "diplomat material" was a mystery she had yet to solve. Jessica Okoro had seemed confident in him, but that didn't do much to reassure Neph. She had spent the trip to the fleet with him, cramming every bit of remotely useful information about her people into Henry's skull and giving him reading material to rapidly devour. She wasn't sure just how much he had retained.
As the decontamination procedure was finished, the airlock opened up and Neph stepped forward, Henry beside her, and the space force officers behind them. They'd agreed to let Neph do the introductions. As the group was revealed to the quarian greeting team waiting inside, Neph could see them visibly react to the sight of the strange new alien beside her. The officers behind them wore full ranger armor, and thus had their faces obscured, but Henry wore the open-faced helm of a civilian, and his alien visage was fully visible. The greeters' reactions were very subtle, and very quarian, Neph doubted anyone in her group besides herself had even noticed. Probably should've been a little more specific about the "alien visitors". Human FTL communication technology was still in its infancy, and ships like the Samar were thus heavily reliant on existing infrastructure for communication, and their technology was not yet compatible with the already existing infrastructure constructed by the Council. They had decided against sending a message from the Citadel, as their communications were almost certainly being monitored, and they did not want their intention to court the quarians to be known. Neph had tried her best to adapt the Samar's comm system for council infrastructure, but it was like trying to use the internet with a telegraph. She'd had no luck. A damned shame too. It would have been nice to be able to give my people some time to prepare.
The brief surprise was quickly suppressed by the quarians, and the lead one-a woman-stepped forward to greet them. "Greetings. I am Kitzri'Nin vas Rayya, captain of this ship. I know I already met you at your pilgrimage ceremony, Neph'Olis. When you failed to report in for two months in a row, we assumed the worst. You can imagine that we are very happy to be proven wrong." She glanced at the aliens with her. "It seems you've got quite a story to tell."
"Indeed I do captain. May I introduce Henry Calloway, an ambassador from the newly encountered species known as humanity." Neph said.
"I am honored to be the first human to extend greetings to your people, captain." Henry said smoothly.
"And I am honored to receive them, Ambassador." Kitzri replied.
Neph pressed on. "May I also introduce Major Timothy Li, the captain of the Samar, the ship which brought me here, and his officers, Lieutenants Lisa Smith and Ozan Fahri."
Kitzri nodded at the trio. "I welcome you aboard my ship captain, lieutenants."
"I thank you for your hospitality." Tim said in response.
Kitzri nodded again, and turned to Henry. "I imagine you'll be wanting to speak to our leadership?"
For some reason, Henry seemed amused by the words. Smirking, he said "Yes, I would. Is now an acceptable time, or will you require us to wait?"
"It is currently the evening on our fleet time, so I would request that we hold off your meeting with the Admirals until tomorrow. We can show you to guest quarters until then. This way, the Admirals will have time to be briefed, and Neph'Olis will also have the time to meet with her family." Kitzri said.
Henry nodded. "Of course."
---
Neph rang the door buzzer, and her grandmother answered the door. For a moment, the woman was completely still, and then she seized Neph in a hug, sobbing.
"When they told me that you had returned...out of nowhere. I didn't dare believe it. But you're here, alive." she squeezed harder. Neph squeezed back. After several long moments, Neph's grandmother reluctantly broke their embrace and gazed upon her grandchild. "Oh Neph. When you didn't report in...you have no idea. I...I mourned for you Neph. You were dead. You were all I had left, and then you were gone. I couldn't bear it-!" Neph hugged her again. "It was so terrible, grandmother. The batarians, I was captured. I tried to be brave, to be an adult like I was supposed to be, but I could barely hold it together. I don't know if I could have survived. If I would have let myself survive as a-"
"Hush, child. No more talk like that. You can tell me everything when you're ready, but I won't hear anymore talk of you going right back into the grave when you've just climbed out of it." her grandmother's words were steel. There would be no debate. Neph entered her grandmother's house and for the first time since her capture by the batarians she cried, like a baby. She had kept all of it, the fear, the despair of her ordeal, locked up inside so that she could help her rescuers. Finally, here in her home, she could release it.
---
May 6, 2089
Aboard the Rayya
Henry stepped out of the quarian guest room, fresh oxygen making its way in through his suits scrubbers, and carbon dioxide making it's way out. Everything was sore, his suit was not designed with sleepwear as an intended use. His three companions had slept like babies, having both a soldier's uncanny ability to snatch any sleep available to them, and a ranger's experience with sleeping in their vacsuit (a common occurrence in the Ranger Corps' training exercises). Henry, on the other hand, had been forced to take a knockout pill (which, mercifully, he had remembered to put in his suit's internal storage). He didn't like depending on drugs to get his sleep, but he couldn't risk sleep deprivation for such important negotiations.
Henry made his way out the door, the three rangers following close behind. Neph was waiting for them at the end of the hallway, Captain Nin beside her. Neph seemed in good spirits. Or at least, Henry was pretty sure that was what he was seeing. Deciphering alien body language would have been challenging enough, but having to do it through an environment suit made it drastically more difficult. The captain greeted them. "Hello. I hope you have rested well. Our Admirals are waiting for you. If you would follow me..." the woman turned to go, Neph on her heels, and the humans followed.
The room that they entered bore a resemblance to a conference room, with a large table and chairs being the centerpiece. Three quarians, two women and a man, walked over to greet them. One of the women spoke. "I am Admiral Inris'Yoza vas Fadesh" she gestured to the man "this is Admiral Kilen'Tun vas Kali, and beside me is Admiral Ren'Zilv vas Eim. We are pleased to meet you." Further introductions and pleasantries were exchanged, and then Neph and Henry, with the occasional input of Tim, launched into a description of the events of Neph's capture, and her subsequent rescue.
The Admirals seemed genuinely interested by their tale, but then Admiral Yoza interrupted. "This is a fascinating story, but I highly doubt that you have come all this way just to bring one of our pilgrims back to us."
Henry and Neph shared a glance, and then Henry spoke. "You are correct, Admiral. I will spare you the sob story, but the simple answer is that my people are anticipating war with the batarians. We have come here to offer you supplies, repairs, and access to our manpower, in exchange for your sharing of your technology and skilled personnel."
Admiral Tun cut in. "What exactly are you prepared to offer?"
Henry smiled. "We may be primitive by your standards, but we are still a spacefaring species with a developed interstellar civilization. The "supplies" could be just about anything you need. Raw materials, tools, even ships. Hell, if are ships are too outdated for you, help us design new ones, and we'd be more than willing to share what we can build."
"And why, exactly, didn't you go to the Council with this problem? You can perhaps see how that might make us suspicious, yes?" said Admiral Zilv.
Henry sighed. He had never liked lying, although it was sometimes an important part of his job. Knowing when to tell the truth was important too, however. It might put him at a disadvantage in the current situation, but lying here would only cause problems later on. "In short, the Council has washed their hands of us. The batarians fed them a version of events that was obviously a lie, but they happily swallowed it. The Council is unwilling to help us. We don't know why, though we have our suspicions."
Admiral Tun gave a harsh bark of laughter. "Sounds like the Council."
Admiral Yoza spoke. "Your offer is...intriguing, ambassador, and you've picked an interesting time to present it to us. Serious discussion about retaking the homeworld has flared up once again."
Admiral Zilv scoffed. "Oh yes, and we're more determined than ever to commit mass suicide, believe me."
Admiral Tun took issue to that. "We've been languishing for generations, half dead, while the geth have only gotten stronger. Every year we decide to forgo retaking our homeworld is another year for the geth to build ships and troops and fortifications."
"All the more reason for us to not go charging right into those ships and troops and fortifications." Zilv said.
"I'm not suggesting we send the whole fleet charging into Rannoch, Ren, I'm suggesting that we finally start being at war with the geth again, instead running away for another century."
Zilv scoffed. "Yes, because that worked so well the last time."
"Admirals." Yoza admonished. "Can we try to avoid devolving into a shouting match in the presence of our guests?"
Henry spoke. "I'm not qualified to tell you what the best course of action. All I can tell you is that we have a saying among my people: 'You scratch my back, I scratch yours.' If you decide to pursue military action against the geth, while I can't promise direct military support, I can promise you supplies and a place to make repairs, and of course a place to shelter your civilians. If you decide to pursue other options, we will gladly lend you the same support you would be lending us, and you'd always have a safe harbor in our space."
The Admirals exchanged glances, and then Yoza spoke. "Your offer is admittedly enticing. While of course we also cannot guarantee direct military support in your war with the batarians, we will discuss the possibility of providing you other aid, if you would give us a moment in private..."
"Of course." Henry said. He left the room, his companions in tow.
---
May 6, 2089
Unclaimed Space
Prator had been surprised when he hadn't been executed upon his return to the Hegemony. Instead, they'd allowed him to take command of what remained of Halmak's flotilla (plus a few extra), and tasked him with tracking a human ship as it left the citadel, a task that had proven less difficult than he'd anticipated, as it seemed the humans either weren't aware of modern sensor technology, or they didn't know how to properly cover their tracks from it. He'd been confused and more than a little surprised when the trail had taken a sudden turn towards unclaimed space, instead of continuing on back to human space. When his probes reported that they were approaching what was obviously the migrant fleet, Prator had been even more surprised. He had contacted the Hegemony, asking for further instructions, and they had given him a very straightforward directive: set an ambush, and destroy the human ship. Prator still thought that the supposed invasion of human space the Hegemony seemed determined to make was an idiotic idea, but he could see the logic in taking steps to delay the formation of any alliance between the suit rats and the humans.
As a side bonus, it would also delay word of the fiasco at the Council from reaching the human government for slightly longer, which would allow the fleet to take the humans by surprise. Hopefully. Prator was no tactical genius, but he had plenty of experience setting up an ambush. It helped if you knew which relays your prey would have to use on their trip.
The batarian leaned back in his command chair, content to wait.
---
Hey all. My original plans had this chapter turn out a very different way to what you just read, but I decided I didn't like the direction that it would take the story, so I scrapped it. Hence the extra-long time between chapters (although that's hardly the only reason for the delay). This one came up shorter than the typical chapter, but that's because I decided that continuing on would effect the pacing and flow of the story in a way that I didn't want it to. As such, you can think of this chapter as a sort of bookend, I suppose. The "end of act 1".
As always, thank you for reading and please share your thoughts in the comments!
Unclaimed Space
As the Samar approached the Migrant Fleet, Neph stood on the bridge, waiting to open communications with her people. A quarian voice came over the ship's comm system. "Incoming ship, state your identity."
Neph took a deep breath, and then spoke. "This is Neph'Olis nar Rayya, I am returning from my pilgrimage and bring important information and alien visitors with me."
There was a pause on the other end. "Neph'Olis nar Rayya is believed dead, and your ship is not showing up on any database, please verify."
"After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began."
Another pause, and then "Confirmed. Approach the Rayya for docking and decontamination, and then you'll explain what's going on."
"Understood." Neph closed the comm and let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She turned to Henry. "Anyone that comes aboard with me will have to go through decontamination and wear an environment suit. I hope it won't be too much trouble..."
"Not at all. We're the guests here, after all. It wouldn't be good for first impressions if I threw a tantrum over having to take a bath." Henry joked.
Neph did her best to smile, not that it mattered much, and tried to quell the unpleasant nervous feeling in her stomach at the realization that her people thought she was dead.
Henry turned to Tim. "Major, I think both you and your officers should attend as well." As Tim opened his mouth to protest, Henry raised his palms in a placating gesture. "Yeah, I know, regulations don't like it when the CO leaves the ship when it isn't in port, but this is important. If what I've been reading hasn't all been bullshit and stereotypes, ship captains have a lot of cultural importance to the quarians. Having you stay behind could be seen as a slight. Docking with one of the life ships is kind of like being "in port" to them anyway, so if it makes you feel better..."
Tim turned to Neph. "Do you think this will help?"
Neph cocked her head to the side. "Yes. I just assumed you would be coming in the first place. Sorry, cultural biases showing, I suppose. Having your officers be present would also be seen as a sign of respect."
Tim let out a sigh and said "Alright. I'll have the others meet us in decontamination." he keyed his intercom. "Chief Paulo, you have the bridge." If the senior NCO of the ship was surprised at being placed in command, it didn't show in his voice. "Aye, sir. Making my way there now."
---
The quarian decon team ran their equipment over his environment suit, Henry couldn't help but feel like it was redundant, considering he'd just spent thirty minutes going through the lengthy process of decontamination on the Samar.
I suppose when a stiff breeze can kill you, there's no such thing as "redundant" precautions. He tried not to laugh at his own mental attempt at humor, a habit of his that his teachers in the diplomatic corps had gone to great lengths to break.
---
Neph felt her sense of unease grow as she watched Henry. I could've sworn I just heard him laugh. Neph liked Henry, but he was still very...odd. Even by alien standards. How anyone had looked at him and seen "diplomat material" was a mystery she had yet to solve. Jessica Okoro had seemed confident in him, but that didn't do much to reassure Neph. She had spent the trip to the fleet with him, cramming every bit of remotely useful information about her people into Henry's skull and giving him reading material to rapidly devour. She wasn't sure just how much he had retained.
As the decontamination procedure was finished, the airlock opened up and Neph stepped forward, Henry beside her, and the space force officers behind them. They'd agreed to let Neph do the introductions. As the group was revealed to the quarian greeting team waiting inside, Neph could see them visibly react to the sight of the strange new alien beside her. The officers behind them wore full ranger armor, and thus had their faces obscured, but Henry wore the open-faced helm of a civilian, and his alien visage was fully visible. The greeters' reactions were very subtle, and very quarian, Neph doubted anyone in her group besides herself had even noticed. Probably should've been a little more specific about the "alien visitors". Human FTL communication technology was still in its infancy, and ships like the Samar were thus heavily reliant on existing infrastructure for communication, and their technology was not yet compatible with the already existing infrastructure constructed by the Council. They had decided against sending a message from the Citadel, as their communications were almost certainly being monitored, and they did not want their intention to court the quarians to be known. Neph had tried her best to adapt the Samar's comm system for council infrastructure, but it was like trying to use the internet with a telegraph. She'd had no luck. A damned shame too. It would have been nice to be able to give my people some time to prepare.
The brief surprise was quickly suppressed by the quarians, and the lead one-a woman-stepped forward to greet them. "Greetings. I am Kitzri'Nin vas Rayya, captain of this ship. I know I already met you at your pilgrimage ceremony, Neph'Olis. When you failed to report in for two months in a row, we assumed the worst. You can imagine that we are very happy to be proven wrong." She glanced at the aliens with her. "It seems you've got quite a story to tell."
"Indeed I do captain. May I introduce Henry Calloway, an ambassador from the newly encountered species known as humanity." Neph said.
"I am honored to be the first human to extend greetings to your people, captain." Henry said smoothly.
"And I am honored to receive them, Ambassador." Kitzri replied.
Neph pressed on. "May I also introduce Major Timothy Li, the captain of the Samar, the ship which brought me here, and his officers, Lieutenants Lisa Smith and Ozan Fahri."
Kitzri nodded at the trio. "I welcome you aboard my ship captain, lieutenants."
"I thank you for your hospitality." Tim said in response.
Kitzri nodded again, and turned to Henry. "I imagine you'll be wanting to speak to our leadership?"
For some reason, Henry seemed amused by the words. Smirking, he said "Yes, I would. Is now an acceptable time, or will you require us to wait?"
"It is currently the evening on our fleet time, so I would request that we hold off your meeting with the Admirals until tomorrow. We can show you to guest quarters until then. This way, the Admirals will have time to be briefed, and Neph'Olis will also have the time to meet with her family." Kitzri said.
Henry nodded. "Of course."
---
Neph rang the door buzzer, and her grandmother answered the door. For a moment, the woman was completely still, and then she seized Neph in a hug, sobbing.
"When they told me that you had returned...out of nowhere. I didn't dare believe it. But you're here, alive." she squeezed harder. Neph squeezed back. After several long moments, Neph's grandmother reluctantly broke their embrace and gazed upon her grandchild. "Oh Neph. When you didn't report in...you have no idea. I...I mourned for you Neph. You were dead. You were all I had left, and then you were gone. I couldn't bear it-!" Neph hugged her again. "It was so terrible, grandmother. The batarians, I was captured. I tried to be brave, to be an adult like I was supposed to be, but I could barely hold it together. I don't know if I could have survived. If I would have let myself survive as a-"
"Hush, child. No more talk like that. You can tell me everything when you're ready, but I won't hear anymore talk of you going right back into the grave when you've just climbed out of it." her grandmother's words were steel. There would be no debate. Neph entered her grandmother's house and for the first time since her capture by the batarians she cried, like a baby. She had kept all of it, the fear, the despair of her ordeal, locked up inside so that she could help her rescuers. Finally, here in her home, she could release it.
---
May 6, 2089
Aboard the Rayya
Henry stepped out of the quarian guest room, fresh oxygen making its way in through his suits scrubbers, and carbon dioxide making it's way out. Everything was sore, his suit was not designed with sleepwear as an intended use. His three companions had slept like babies, having both a soldier's uncanny ability to snatch any sleep available to them, and a ranger's experience with sleeping in their vacsuit (a common occurrence in the Ranger Corps' training exercises). Henry, on the other hand, had been forced to take a knockout pill (which, mercifully, he had remembered to put in his suit's internal storage). He didn't like depending on drugs to get his sleep, but he couldn't risk sleep deprivation for such important negotiations.
Henry made his way out the door, the three rangers following close behind. Neph was waiting for them at the end of the hallway, Captain Nin beside her. Neph seemed in good spirits. Or at least, Henry was pretty sure that was what he was seeing. Deciphering alien body language would have been challenging enough, but having to do it through an environment suit made it drastically more difficult. The captain greeted them. "Hello. I hope you have rested well. Our Admirals are waiting for you. If you would follow me..." the woman turned to go, Neph on her heels, and the humans followed.
The room that they entered bore a resemblance to a conference room, with a large table and chairs being the centerpiece. Three quarians, two women and a man, walked over to greet them. One of the women spoke. "I am Admiral Inris'Yoza vas Fadesh" she gestured to the man "this is Admiral Kilen'Tun vas Kali, and beside me is Admiral Ren'Zilv vas Eim. We are pleased to meet you." Further introductions and pleasantries were exchanged, and then Neph and Henry, with the occasional input of Tim, launched into a description of the events of Neph's capture, and her subsequent rescue.
The Admirals seemed genuinely interested by their tale, but then Admiral Yoza interrupted. "This is a fascinating story, but I highly doubt that you have come all this way just to bring one of our pilgrims back to us."
Henry and Neph shared a glance, and then Henry spoke. "You are correct, Admiral. I will spare you the sob story, but the simple answer is that my people are anticipating war with the batarians. We have come here to offer you supplies, repairs, and access to our manpower, in exchange for your sharing of your technology and skilled personnel."
Admiral Tun cut in. "What exactly are you prepared to offer?"
Henry smiled. "We may be primitive by your standards, but we are still a spacefaring species with a developed interstellar civilization. The "supplies" could be just about anything you need. Raw materials, tools, even ships. Hell, if are ships are too outdated for you, help us design new ones, and we'd be more than willing to share what we can build."
"And why, exactly, didn't you go to the Council with this problem? You can perhaps see how that might make us suspicious, yes?" said Admiral Zilv.
Henry sighed. He had never liked lying, although it was sometimes an important part of his job. Knowing when to tell the truth was important too, however. It might put him at a disadvantage in the current situation, but lying here would only cause problems later on. "In short, the Council has washed their hands of us. The batarians fed them a version of events that was obviously a lie, but they happily swallowed it. The Council is unwilling to help us. We don't know why, though we have our suspicions."
Admiral Tun gave a harsh bark of laughter. "Sounds like the Council."
Admiral Yoza spoke. "Your offer is...intriguing, ambassador, and you've picked an interesting time to present it to us. Serious discussion about retaking the homeworld has flared up once again."
Admiral Zilv scoffed. "Oh yes, and we're more determined than ever to commit mass suicide, believe me."
Admiral Tun took issue to that. "We've been languishing for generations, half dead, while the geth have only gotten stronger. Every year we decide to forgo retaking our homeworld is another year for the geth to build ships and troops and fortifications."
"All the more reason for us to not go charging right into those ships and troops and fortifications." Zilv said.
"I'm not suggesting we send the whole fleet charging into Rannoch, Ren, I'm suggesting that we finally start being at war with the geth again, instead running away for another century."
Zilv scoffed. "Yes, because that worked so well the last time."
"Admirals." Yoza admonished. "Can we try to avoid devolving into a shouting match in the presence of our guests?"
Henry spoke. "I'm not qualified to tell you what the best course of action. All I can tell you is that we have a saying among my people: 'You scratch my back, I scratch yours.' If you decide to pursue military action against the geth, while I can't promise direct military support, I can promise you supplies and a place to make repairs, and of course a place to shelter your civilians. If you decide to pursue other options, we will gladly lend you the same support you would be lending us, and you'd always have a safe harbor in our space."
The Admirals exchanged glances, and then Yoza spoke. "Your offer is admittedly enticing. While of course we also cannot guarantee direct military support in your war with the batarians, we will discuss the possibility of providing you other aid, if you would give us a moment in private..."
"Of course." Henry said. He left the room, his companions in tow.
---
May 6, 2089
Unclaimed Space
Prator had been surprised when he hadn't been executed upon his return to the Hegemony. Instead, they'd allowed him to take command of what remained of Halmak's flotilla (plus a few extra), and tasked him with tracking a human ship as it left the citadel, a task that had proven less difficult than he'd anticipated, as it seemed the humans either weren't aware of modern sensor technology, or they didn't know how to properly cover their tracks from it. He'd been confused and more than a little surprised when the trail had taken a sudden turn towards unclaimed space, instead of continuing on back to human space. When his probes reported that they were approaching what was obviously the migrant fleet, Prator had been even more surprised. He had contacted the Hegemony, asking for further instructions, and they had given him a very straightforward directive: set an ambush, and destroy the human ship. Prator still thought that the supposed invasion of human space the Hegemony seemed determined to make was an idiotic idea, but he could see the logic in taking steps to delay the formation of any alliance between the suit rats and the humans.
As a side bonus, it would also delay word of the fiasco at the Council from reaching the human government for slightly longer, which would allow the fleet to take the humans by surprise. Hopefully. Prator was no tactical genius, but he had plenty of experience setting up an ambush. It helped if you knew which relays your prey would have to use on their trip.
The batarian leaned back in his command chair, content to wait.
---
Hey all. My original plans had this chapter turn out a very different way to what you just read, but I decided I didn't like the direction that it would take the story, so I scrapped it. Hence the extra-long time between chapters (although that's hardly the only reason for the delay). This one came up shorter than the typical chapter, but that's because I decided that continuing on would effect the pacing and flow of the story in a way that I didn't want it to. As such, you can think of this chapter as a sort of bookend, I suppose. The "end of act 1".
As always, thank you for reading and please share your thoughts in the comments!
Guardian
May 8, 2089
Unclaimed Space
Henry Calloway sat in his observer seat, his companions-both human and quarian-sitting beside him. The Admiralty Board had ultimately decided that humanity's offer was worthy of discussion, and had proposed the issue to the Conclave. In what was, according to Neph, typical quarian fashion, the Conclave had debated the issue to death over the past few days. Henry's only contribution had been to present humanity's evidence of batarian aggression, but he doubted it made much difference. The quarians loathed the batarians, they had stolen one too many wayward pilgrims for that not to be the case. That the batarians were in the wrong was taken for granted by most of the Conclave.
The debate had made for strange bedfellows. Two factions that were normally completely at odds with each other had found themselves on the same side. There were what Henry had privately dubbed the "Warhawks" who were constantly advocating for an escalation of conflict with the geth, and thus believed that the material support from humanity would allow them to truly bring the fight to the geth. There was also the "Anti-War" faction (another of Henry's unofficial namings) who advocated for abandoning any thoughts of war with the geth and focusing on rebuilding quarian civilization on a new world. They saw human material support as an opportunity to finally be able to begin to reestablish themselves and stem the tide of desperation that was pushing their people towards war.
These two factions were normally minorities, but with their combined numbers they gave a credible chance for human-quarian cooperation. Their main opponents were what Henry had dubbed the "Moderates". The faction seemed to represent the typical opinions of the majority of quarian-kind. They advocated for not taking rash action that could endanger the fragile existence the quarians had been able to obtain as nomads. To openly support humanity, a race encountered only days ago, and one that was now at odds with the Council (an organization that, in their opinion, quarian-kind could not afford to draw even more ire from) would be a rash action that put the entire species at risk.
Neph sat beside him. He suspected the woman was rolling her eyes, though it was hard to obtain proof of that with her helmet. Watching a pair of politicians debate, she turned to Henry. "They've been making the same points for two days now. You'd think they'd just put it to a vote already."
Henry turned to her and smiled. "A healthy democracy thrives on exhaustive debate."
Neph scoffed. "I'd hardly call us a 'healthy democracy'."
Henry's smile grew wider. "This is nothing. You should see the legislatures of some of the nations back on Earth. Some of them even break out into fist fights."
Neph was genuinely surprised. "You're joking."
Henry shook his head. "Dead serious. Why is that hard to believe?"
"I don't know. You just seem so...amiable." Neph said.
"You've only met, what? Two dozen humans? Maybe three. Several of whom had diplomatic training. We are an entire civilization. There's bound to be plenty of variance between us." Henry said.
"I suppose so." Neph said, feeling a little sheepish. The pair grew silent after that, and joined their companions in watching the debate between the two politicians wrap up. A recess was called, and the group made their way to Neph's grandmother's house, which had become their resting place in between sessions.
---
"Bah, I wish I could offer you something to eat, but we can't afford to waste space on levo food." Neph's grandmother lamented.
"It's fine ma'am, really." Tim said, for the third time in the past two days.
"Please, just Zila is fine." she said.
"Alright then. It's fine, Zila." Tim amended.
Neph's grandmother had tearfully expressed her gratitude for saving her granddaughter to the humans upon meeting them. Tim, in particular, was a recipient of her gratitude, having been the leader of the team that had saved Neph's life. Tim took it all with the same courtesy he took everything else.
The humans sipped water through their helmet straws, waiting out the clock. They group had decided to forgo their return from the recess, instead watching the proceedings on the quarian equivalent of live news. It was a choice that Henry was coming to regret, as a vote had been called, and all they could do was watch and wait. The quarian reporter finally announced it.
"Yes, we're getting the results now...46% in favor, 52.7% opposed, 1.3% abstained." the announcer said.
A barely audible intake could be heard among the watching humans, and their two quarian companions. Well shit. Thought Henry. His mind raced, searching for acceptable courses of action. He settled on one, reluctantly. "Alright people, we're going for a meeting with the Admiralty." He said.
Lieutenant Fahri, chief engineer, spoke up at that. "What for? It's over. We lost."
"That doesn't mean I can't still salvage something from the situation." Henry said.
While still somewhat dejected, the group got up to move with a new purpose.
---
"You want to stay as an...ambassador?" Admiral Yoza asked.
"Of a sort. Someone specifically trained for that will take my place as soon as possible, of course, but until then it is necessary to maintain diplomatic contact." Henry replied.
"Forgive us, we don't often have governments express an interest in diplomatic contact with us." Admiral Zilv said.
"Or just contact, in general." Tun barked a laugh.
"Well, even if you can't directly cooperate with us, we would still benefit greatly from a healthy business relationship. Let your pilgrims know that the pilgrimage gifts they get from us would be substantial." Henry said.
The Admiralty exchanged glances. Zilv spoke. "We can't cooperate with you directly, as per the Conclaves mandate."
"But they haven't forbidden pilgrims from going to your space." Tun finished.
"Normally, a given batch of pilgrims would be sent out piecemeal, dropped off whenever we pass near civilized space. However, it's not expressly forbidden for pilgrims to make their initial journey in...larger groups." Xoza said.
For the first time since the vote, Henry smiled. "I see. These "larger groups", would any of them be interested in trying to find their pilgrimage gifts in human space?"
"I'm sure there would be many who would express an interest. The latest batch of pilgrims is finishing their training very soon. We could send them in a larger ship. Naturally, it would be remiss of us to send them into unknown space without a guide." Tun said.
"I'm sure I could find some volunteers on the Samar." Henry said, smiling wider.
"Very kind of them." Zilv said.
---
May 10, 2089
Among the latest batch of pilgrims, about 32 had volunteered to make the voyage to human space. They piled aboard the Neera, an elderly tramp freighter that had had it's cargo containers pressurized and connected, then filled with bunks and living arrangements. The Samar was its escort and guide, and the pair set off from the migrant fleet, beginning the voyage to Earth.
In the CIC of the Samar, Tim sat in his command chair, watching the approach to the first relay they would need to take on their journey. Like the others, he was disappointed to not be bringing home the proper quarian aid his people needed so desperately. A ship full of what was essentially college graduates was a poor substitute, but it was better than coming home empty handed.
Privately, Tim couldn't really blame the quarians for their decision. If an alien diplomat from a previously uncontacted species had shown up to Earth and requested material aid in a war that they had only just now heard of, he doubted that the UN would rush to their aid. Not without collecting more intel about the situation first. That the Conclave had seriously considered the offer at all was a measure of just how desperate the quarians were for material aid, in Tim's opinion.
As the pair of ships came up upon the relay, the navigators of both ships cooperated to make the jump. As the ships popped out on the other side instantaneously, Tim took in the system they had landed in. The same thought that had occurred to him days ago when he had taken the same relay in reverse on the way to the Migrant fleet occurred to him once again: Why the hell did the protheans build their relay here?
The system was a particularly scrawny red dwarf star, it's only orbiters being a smattering of asteroid fields and planetoids, with no other celestial bodies of note. Almost completely worthless, as far as star systems go. Tim didn't waste much more time pondering the strange decisions of ancient alien minds, and instead he ordered navigation to set their course through the system. Several hours from now, they'd reach the edge of the system and would make the FTL trip to the nearby star which carried the next relay they'd need to take on their journey.
---
Prator felt a brief surge of triumph when the light of the two ships exiting the relay made its way to the tiny observation probes he'd left near there. It confirmed he'd made the right call. His flotilla of ships was hidden behind a nearby planetoid, which covered their light and heat emissions up. Prator need only pick the right time for his ships to reveal themselves and pounce on their prey.
---
In the CIC of the Samar, less than an hour into their trip through the system, the sensors officer shouted out "Contact!"
"On my screen." Tim ordered. The sensors officer complied, and the sensors data was put on his screen. It was five contacts, flying in a loose formation. The one in the center of the formation was bigger than the others, likely some kind of cruiser. The ship's computer recognized to of the signatures as being the same as those detected by the Yuri Gagarin weeks ago. Tim swore. It was almost certainly batarians.
Tim didn't know if this was a preplanned ambush or just a bad luck run in with actual pirates, but he definitely knew that their intentions wouldn't be friendly. His mind raced, his training taking over as he ran through his options. None of them were good.
He gave his orders. "Order the Neera to gun it back towards the relay, then set us up for a lancer run on the lead ship."
His XO, Lieutenant Lisa Smith, went to stand beside him. "What's your plan, sir?"
He turned to her. "We need to get the big one out of the fight as quickly as possible, but we don't need to completely destroy her to do it." Hey keyed in the comm number of Chief Paulo. "Chief, prep two boarding teams and get them to the pods."
"Aye sir." the Chief replied.
"This'll leave us a little light on bodies for damage control, sir." Lisa pointed out.
"Lieutenant, if we take damage serious enough to warrant the extra hands, we've already lost." Tim replied.
The Samar moved to follow the commands given by its crew, and vectored itself towards the lead ship, burning as hard as it possibly could.
---
The Hegemony had quickly learned that trying to match the Council in dreadnought production was a fools errand, and so had set themselves to mass-producing smaller classes of ship at a prodigious rate. As those ships age, they became surplus ships, typically being mothballed at large boneyards in Hegemony space. There they would be frequently "lost" or "stolen", after which they would inevitably end up in the hands of the Hegemony's allies and proxies. Prators flagship, the Resh'Dar'Nin, was one such ship, entrusted to him by the Hegemony for use in the mission.
Prator's confidence had grown by the presence of the light cruiser in his flotilla. However, as he watched the human ship charge at him, some of that confidence began to wane. According to typical tactical thought, trying to fight at such velocities was foolish, as all you end up doing was adding the velocity of your ship to the velocity of any impacting mass driver rounds, significantly increasing their power. The human ship's defiance of that logic made Prator concerned that it's captain knew something that he didn't. It charged forward, dodging the incoming fire, the handful of shots that did land hit very hard against the barriers thanks to the ship's velocity, but the ship still pressed on.
As the human ship grew closer, Prator was becoming concerned that the ship was making some kind of kamikaze run. He had sent two ships, a frigate from Halmak's old flotilla and one of the two Q-ships the hegemony had loaned him to give chase to the fleeing transport ship. He was beginning to regret that decision as he watched the human ship burn ever harder towards him. Just when he thought his suspicions were confirmed and this really was a suicide run, the human ship suddenly pulled up, and from a silo in its belly it let loose a swarm of...something. The ship's sudden pullup had also revealed the two much larger contacts in its wake.
As the Resh'Dar'Nin's laser defenses tore their way through the incoming contacts, Prator growled out an order. "Report! What kind of weapons are those? And what are those larger contacts in the back?"
His sensors officer reported. "No trace of anything special on the smaller contacts, not even any Element Zero. As far as we can tell, they're just simple chemical rockets. The two larger contacts appear to be some kind of shuttle or other small craft."
Prator suppressed his groan. It's a boarding maneuver. He was about to order the laser batteries to focus on the incoming shuttle craft, but as he watched things play out he realized that would be a mistake. The missiles weren't anything special, likely just lumps of matter with a maneuvering thruster bolted on, but they were coming in fast. They wouldn't hit much harder than a normal mass driver round, but there were just so many that Prator couldn't risk diverting the attention of the lasers from them. If enough made it through they could do some serious damage.
He grit his teeth and gave his orders. "Security teams are to prepare to repel boarders. And recall the Ent'shan to our position."
---
As the Samar pulled out of its lancer run, Tim watched the boarding pods rapidly decelerate to a crawl, slipping through the enemies kinetic barriers and magnetically clamping themselves where they landed. The pods would cut into the hull and two squads of rangers would wreak havoc through the ship.
It was a hard thing to send his rangers into this situation. Realistically, he didn't know how he would retrieve them. These were the sorts of decisions officers had to make. For now, all he could do was focus on the mission. He had Samar flip and burn hard towards the Neera. He hadn't missed it when the two ships had broken off to pursue the transport.
---
Senior Chief Ranger Amancio Paulo lead his squad to link up with the other squad, his rangers carving a bloody path through anything that stood in their way. He suspected this wasn't a proper military ship, the response to his boarding action was too disorganized and ill disciplined for it to be otherwise. It was also possible that they had simply caught the enemy by complete surprise, and they'd organize a proper response soon. This possibility made it something of a relief when he saw the squad led by his second, Chief Ranger Ezekiel Efron.
He approached the man. "Any casualties, Zeke?"
"None so far, Chief. Do we have a path to engineering?" Zeke asked.
"We think so. My squad will take point." He raised his voice. "Everyone, let's move out!"
The two ranger squads made their way to the rear of the ship, facing little in the way of resistance. When they finally reached the drive core and engineering room, they fanned out stepping over the corpses of what had presumably been the engineering team. Eventually, a ranger found what they were looking for. Flipping the big emergency shutoff lever, the boarding team left the cruiser drifting, unable to accelerate or make significant course changes.
Zeke laughed. "That'll wake them up. If I were them, I'd be sending everyone with a gun to engineering."
Chief Paulo nodded. "Have everyone set up in defensive positions." He turned to Senior Ranger Rosa Kreischer, their tech specialist. "Any chance you could fuck around with their weapons and systems from here?"
The ranger leaned her rifle against an engineering console and cracked her knuckles. "Hell Chief, gimme enough time and I'll give you a whole mass driver battery."
---
As the Samar burned towards the Neera's pursuers, one of them had inexplicably doubled back. Sensors revealed that it was the frigate, and it had placed itself in an intercept position with the Samar. Behind it, the Q-ship still burned hard after the Neera, slowly but surely gaining on it.
Tim drummed his fingers against the arm rest of his chair, and then suddenly stood up, turning to face Lisa. "We don't have time to get in a spinal mount duel with this guy, not with the other one bearing down on Neera."
Lisa gave him a concerned look. "You want to make a torpedo run, don't you?"
Tim nodded. "I don't think we've got a way to take this guy down quicker. Their laser defenses are stronger then ours. I think we're going to have to launch all of them if we want to breach their defenses."
"We already used up all of our lances in one pass. If we burn all of our torpedoes on an overkill here, the only thing we'll have left to fight with is the spinal mount." Lisa pointed out.
Tim shrugged. "It'll have to do."
---
The Samar went in for an attack run on the frigate, but this time it didn't come in at the dangerous speeds it had used before, instead it came in at about the same speed any other ship in known space would for a disruptor torpedo run.
The key difference is that these weren't disrupter torpedoes.
The Samar came in under heavy fire from the batarian frigate, but she still managed to get her torpedoes away and break off. Unfortunately for the Samar, the heavy fire did manage to buckle her kinetic barriers at the moment just before the break off. One of the batarian frigate's secondary mass drivers scored a lucky hit, striking the Samar in her underbelly.
This lucky hit didn't spare the frigate its fate, however. It's defensive lasers were more advanced and performed admirably, but these torpedoes had no need to increase their mass and slow themselves down, unlike disrupter torpedoes. Two of them survived the lasers as they streaked in at high speed, and, microseconds before impacting against the frigate's kinetic barriers, they detonated their warheads.
The warheads were a ten kiloton nuclear shape charge, sacrificing raw power for precision. The nuclear explosions shot out at the target in a single direction, preventing the waste of energy that came in a normal warhead. The frigate was obliterated, its pieces flying off in the direction of the explosion, destroyed with all hands
---
Tim felt the whole ship groan from the strike. The fact that he wasn't dead and the ship was still flying showed that the Samar's armor had taken the hit reasonably well. "Damage report!" he called into his intercom.
It was Lieutenant Fahri, the chief engineer, who responded. "All critical systems are still intact, but the spinal mount's been damaged."
Tim grit his teeth at that. "Any chance for repairs?"
The chief engineer sighed. "Maybe, but it'll take time."
Tim sighed as well. "Time we don't have. Get our barriers charged back up, max out our power input for them. Anything left over goes to the engines."
"Aye sir." Fahri said.
Lisa looked at him. "What are you thinking?"
Tim returned the look. "Something stupid." He stood up straight and called out orders. "Plot a direct intercept with the other ship. We're going for a Bison." There was silence on the bridge for a moment, followed by a rush of activity as the crew scurried to follow his orders.
"I'm assuming I don't need to remind you, sir, that this class of ship is not exactly optimized for a bison maneuver." Lisa said, concern etched on her face.
"No, you don't Lieutenant. If there was a better option, I'd take it, but right now the choice is between this and leaving those people to die." Tim said.
The Samar Maneuvered itself into position, and then burned hard towards the Q-ship. A Bison Maneuver was a tricky thing. Too fast, and you'd just blow yourself up in a kinetic explosion. Too slow, and you give the enemy's point defenses extra time to lay into your hull. It was a risky and highly situational maneuver, one intended for the big, highly durable hulls of the mainline warships of the Space Force, and it hadn't been tested in the field with a ship of this class. Desperate times call for desperate measures, however, and the Samar began to decelerate on its approach to the Q-ship.
Lieutenant Fahri spoke with Tim. "We're not the optimal class of ship for something like this, sir, but the enemy is definitely some kind of converted freighter. Against the frigate from earlier, I'd say no way. Against this thing...I'd say maybe."
"It'll have to be enough." Tim said. He turned to Lisa and said. "Is everything ready?"
"Yes sir." she said.
Tim nodded, then keyed his intercom. "All hands stand by to brace." Everyone in the CIC, himself included, strapped themselves in. "Execute." Tim said. The Samar began a headlong charge at the Q-ship. The Q-ship's captain made his first mistake when he broke off his pursuit to meet the threat. It is, however, a mistake he couldn't be blamed for, as he couldn't possibly have guessed at the insane plan the humans had cooked up.
The Bison maneuver was intended as a way for patrol ships to disable noncompliant civilian ships in an emergency situation, without having to resort to the overkill of using their primary weapons. In those circumstances, the ships are moving much slower, and the maneuver isn't intended to kill. However, the ever-paranoid Space Force had envisioned a scenario where it might be used in combat. It's a scenario not unlike the one the Samar was in: a ship with it's weaponry expended or disabled, but still retaining full movement, and having the battle situation be such that retreat is not yet a viable option.
Another name one might use for a Bison maneuver would be a "ramming maneuver".
In the CIC, Tim held his armrests in a white knuckled grip. He watched his screen carefully, waiting for the perfect mome-"Increase our mass now! Everything we have!" he ordered. As he did so one of the crewman in the CIC followed procedure as well.
The crewman keyed the intercom, and shouted. "BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!"
---
The Samar hurtled towards its unfortunate target, and as the batarian captain watched its approach, he noticed a very suspicious lack of weapons fire from the human ship. It simply came on in a direct charge, eating incoming mass driver fire with its kinetic barrier, and the laser fire with its thick hull. When the batarian finally put two and two together, he made his second mistake: he ordered evasive maneuvers. Because of this, instead of facing the charge head on and offering the largest amount of mass for the Samar to have to fight through, the Samar was instead perpendicular to the Q-ship when it struck.
Against such large masses, the kinetic barriers of the two ships were useless. To spare her radiator-wings damage, the Samar had came in flipped on its side. Heavy armor wrapped over a reinforced, military-grade hull crashed against cheap, civilian-grade freighter hull. The freighter crumpled like aluminum foil. The increased mass the Samar had given itself offered little in the way of an increase in durability, but it definitely added power to the impact. In less than a second, the Samar shredded it's way through the Q-ship, ripping it in half and careening out the other side. The two pieces of the Q-ship went flying off in different directions.
The Samar was in one piece, but not unscathed. She looked the worse for wear, her hull scarred and battered, her engines offline. She drifted away from the wreck of the Q-ship, unable to stop herself.
---
Aboard the Neera, the pilgrims were in a frenzy. The captain of the ship hailed the Samar, many of her passengers crowding behind her to look over her shoulder. "Neera to Samar, we will render aid. Are there any survivors?"
The Samar opened up a direct video feed to Neera, and a disheveled and bruised Major Tim was on the other end. "This is the Samar, do not, repeat, do not render aid. Make your way through that relay immediately. There's no time."
The quarian captain was incredulous. "We're not going to just abandon you!"
Tim's face hardened. "And I'm not going to abandon the rangers that boarded the cruiser. We'll have our primary systems back online soon enough. We're not helpless. Now, get those kids the hell out of here before those other two frigates make for our position." he cut out the transmission
Behind her, many of the pilgrims were expressing their objections, loudly. "Shut Up!" The captain shouted. "They fought and died to give us this opportunity to flee, to squander it would be an insult to the dead. Get back to your bunks, and stay quiet." With reluctance, the pilgrims made their way back to the living area of the ship, dejectedly. Some reacted with anger, others cried, but they all complied.
The Neera went through the relay.
---
Aboard the Samar, Tim worked frantically with his crew, the infirmary was busy collecting the casualties, while engineering scrambled to get the thrusters online again. Tim had every free pair of hands working to get the spinal mount online again, though in truth he wasn't even sure if it was possible. The secondary maneuvering thrusters were still online, and the still-drifting Samar had turned to face its enemy.
---
Hello, this chapter came together very quickly and was made from a lot of quick flashes of inspiration that came together into something much different from what was originally planned. I hope you enjoyed it, and as always thank you for reading and please share your thoughts in the comments!
Unclaimed Space
Henry Calloway sat in his observer seat, his companions-both human and quarian-sitting beside him. The Admiralty Board had ultimately decided that humanity's offer was worthy of discussion, and had proposed the issue to the Conclave. In what was, according to Neph, typical quarian fashion, the Conclave had debated the issue to death over the past few days. Henry's only contribution had been to present humanity's evidence of batarian aggression, but he doubted it made much difference. The quarians loathed the batarians, they had stolen one too many wayward pilgrims for that not to be the case. That the batarians were in the wrong was taken for granted by most of the Conclave.
The debate had made for strange bedfellows. Two factions that were normally completely at odds with each other had found themselves on the same side. There were what Henry had privately dubbed the "Warhawks" who were constantly advocating for an escalation of conflict with the geth, and thus believed that the material support from humanity would allow them to truly bring the fight to the geth. There was also the "Anti-War" faction (another of Henry's unofficial namings) who advocated for abandoning any thoughts of war with the geth and focusing on rebuilding quarian civilization on a new world. They saw human material support as an opportunity to finally be able to begin to reestablish themselves and stem the tide of desperation that was pushing their people towards war.
These two factions were normally minorities, but with their combined numbers they gave a credible chance for human-quarian cooperation. Their main opponents were what Henry had dubbed the "Moderates". The faction seemed to represent the typical opinions of the majority of quarian-kind. They advocated for not taking rash action that could endanger the fragile existence the quarians had been able to obtain as nomads. To openly support humanity, a race encountered only days ago, and one that was now at odds with the Council (an organization that, in their opinion, quarian-kind could not afford to draw even more ire from) would be a rash action that put the entire species at risk.
Neph sat beside him. He suspected the woman was rolling her eyes, though it was hard to obtain proof of that with her helmet. Watching a pair of politicians debate, she turned to Henry. "They've been making the same points for two days now. You'd think they'd just put it to a vote already."
Henry turned to her and smiled. "A healthy democracy thrives on exhaustive debate."
Neph scoffed. "I'd hardly call us a 'healthy democracy'."
Henry's smile grew wider. "This is nothing. You should see the legislatures of some of the nations back on Earth. Some of them even break out into fist fights."
Neph was genuinely surprised. "You're joking."
Henry shook his head. "Dead serious. Why is that hard to believe?"
"I don't know. You just seem so...amiable." Neph said.
"You've only met, what? Two dozen humans? Maybe three. Several of whom had diplomatic training. We are an entire civilization. There's bound to be plenty of variance between us." Henry said.
"I suppose so." Neph said, feeling a little sheepish. The pair grew silent after that, and joined their companions in watching the debate between the two politicians wrap up. A recess was called, and the group made their way to Neph's grandmother's house, which had become their resting place in between sessions.
---
"Bah, I wish I could offer you something to eat, but we can't afford to waste space on levo food." Neph's grandmother lamented.
"It's fine ma'am, really." Tim said, for the third time in the past two days.
"Please, just Zila is fine." she said.
"Alright then. It's fine, Zila." Tim amended.
Neph's grandmother had tearfully expressed her gratitude for saving her granddaughter to the humans upon meeting them. Tim, in particular, was a recipient of her gratitude, having been the leader of the team that had saved Neph's life. Tim took it all with the same courtesy he took everything else.
The humans sipped water through their helmet straws, waiting out the clock. They group had decided to forgo their return from the recess, instead watching the proceedings on the quarian equivalent of live news. It was a choice that Henry was coming to regret, as a vote had been called, and all they could do was watch and wait. The quarian reporter finally announced it.
"Yes, we're getting the results now...46% in favor, 52.7% opposed, 1.3% abstained." the announcer said.
A barely audible intake could be heard among the watching humans, and their two quarian companions. Well shit. Thought Henry. His mind raced, searching for acceptable courses of action. He settled on one, reluctantly. "Alright people, we're going for a meeting with the Admiralty." He said.
Lieutenant Fahri, chief engineer, spoke up at that. "What for? It's over. We lost."
"That doesn't mean I can't still salvage something from the situation." Henry said.
While still somewhat dejected, the group got up to move with a new purpose.
---
"You want to stay as an...ambassador?" Admiral Yoza asked.
"Of a sort. Someone specifically trained for that will take my place as soon as possible, of course, but until then it is necessary to maintain diplomatic contact." Henry replied.
"Forgive us, we don't often have governments express an interest in diplomatic contact with us." Admiral Zilv said.
"Or just contact, in general." Tun barked a laugh.
"Well, even if you can't directly cooperate with us, we would still benefit greatly from a healthy business relationship. Let your pilgrims know that the pilgrimage gifts they get from us would be substantial." Henry said.
The Admiralty exchanged glances. Zilv spoke. "We can't cooperate with you directly, as per the Conclaves mandate."
"But they haven't forbidden pilgrims from going to your space." Tun finished.
"Normally, a given batch of pilgrims would be sent out piecemeal, dropped off whenever we pass near civilized space. However, it's not expressly forbidden for pilgrims to make their initial journey in...larger groups." Xoza said.
For the first time since the vote, Henry smiled. "I see. These "larger groups", would any of them be interested in trying to find their pilgrimage gifts in human space?"
"I'm sure there would be many who would express an interest. The latest batch of pilgrims is finishing their training very soon. We could send them in a larger ship. Naturally, it would be remiss of us to send them into unknown space without a guide." Tun said.
"I'm sure I could find some volunteers on the Samar." Henry said, smiling wider.
"Very kind of them." Zilv said.
---
May 10, 2089
Among the latest batch of pilgrims, about 32 had volunteered to make the voyage to human space. They piled aboard the Neera, an elderly tramp freighter that had had it's cargo containers pressurized and connected, then filled with bunks and living arrangements. The Samar was its escort and guide, and the pair set off from the migrant fleet, beginning the voyage to Earth.
In the CIC of the Samar, Tim sat in his command chair, watching the approach to the first relay they would need to take on their journey. Like the others, he was disappointed to not be bringing home the proper quarian aid his people needed so desperately. A ship full of what was essentially college graduates was a poor substitute, but it was better than coming home empty handed.
Privately, Tim couldn't really blame the quarians for their decision. If an alien diplomat from a previously uncontacted species had shown up to Earth and requested material aid in a war that they had only just now heard of, he doubted that the UN would rush to their aid. Not without collecting more intel about the situation first. That the Conclave had seriously considered the offer at all was a measure of just how desperate the quarians were for material aid, in Tim's opinion.
As the pair of ships came up upon the relay, the navigators of both ships cooperated to make the jump. As the ships popped out on the other side instantaneously, Tim took in the system they had landed in. The same thought that had occurred to him days ago when he had taken the same relay in reverse on the way to the Migrant fleet occurred to him once again: Why the hell did the protheans build their relay here?
The system was a particularly scrawny red dwarf star, it's only orbiters being a smattering of asteroid fields and planetoids, with no other celestial bodies of note. Almost completely worthless, as far as star systems go. Tim didn't waste much more time pondering the strange decisions of ancient alien minds, and instead he ordered navigation to set their course through the system. Several hours from now, they'd reach the edge of the system and would make the FTL trip to the nearby star which carried the next relay they'd need to take on their journey.
---
Prator felt a brief surge of triumph when the light of the two ships exiting the relay made its way to the tiny observation probes he'd left near there. It confirmed he'd made the right call. His flotilla of ships was hidden behind a nearby planetoid, which covered their light and heat emissions up. Prator need only pick the right time for his ships to reveal themselves and pounce on their prey.
---
In the CIC of the Samar, less than an hour into their trip through the system, the sensors officer shouted out "Contact!"
"On my screen." Tim ordered. The sensors officer complied, and the sensors data was put on his screen. It was five contacts, flying in a loose formation. The one in the center of the formation was bigger than the others, likely some kind of cruiser. The ship's computer recognized to of the signatures as being the same as those detected by the Yuri Gagarin weeks ago. Tim swore. It was almost certainly batarians.
Tim didn't know if this was a preplanned ambush or just a bad luck run in with actual pirates, but he definitely knew that their intentions wouldn't be friendly. His mind raced, his training taking over as he ran through his options. None of them were good.
He gave his orders. "Order the Neera to gun it back towards the relay, then set us up for a lancer run on the lead ship."
His XO, Lieutenant Lisa Smith, went to stand beside him. "What's your plan, sir?"
He turned to her. "We need to get the big one out of the fight as quickly as possible, but we don't need to completely destroy her to do it." Hey keyed in the comm number of Chief Paulo. "Chief, prep two boarding teams and get them to the pods."
"Aye sir." the Chief replied.
"This'll leave us a little light on bodies for damage control, sir." Lisa pointed out.
"Lieutenant, if we take damage serious enough to warrant the extra hands, we've already lost." Tim replied.
The Samar moved to follow the commands given by its crew, and vectored itself towards the lead ship, burning as hard as it possibly could.
---
The Hegemony had quickly learned that trying to match the Council in dreadnought production was a fools errand, and so had set themselves to mass-producing smaller classes of ship at a prodigious rate. As those ships age, they became surplus ships, typically being mothballed at large boneyards in Hegemony space. There they would be frequently "lost" or "stolen", after which they would inevitably end up in the hands of the Hegemony's allies and proxies. Prators flagship, the Resh'Dar'Nin, was one such ship, entrusted to him by the Hegemony for use in the mission.
Prator's confidence had grown by the presence of the light cruiser in his flotilla. However, as he watched the human ship charge at him, some of that confidence began to wane. According to typical tactical thought, trying to fight at such velocities was foolish, as all you end up doing was adding the velocity of your ship to the velocity of any impacting mass driver rounds, significantly increasing their power. The human ship's defiance of that logic made Prator concerned that it's captain knew something that he didn't. It charged forward, dodging the incoming fire, the handful of shots that did land hit very hard against the barriers thanks to the ship's velocity, but the ship still pressed on.
As the human ship grew closer, Prator was becoming concerned that the ship was making some kind of kamikaze run. He had sent two ships, a frigate from Halmak's old flotilla and one of the two Q-ships the hegemony had loaned him to give chase to the fleeing transport ship. He was beginning to regret that decision as he watched the human ship burn ever harder towards him. Just when he thought his suspicions were confirmed and this really was a suicide run, the human ship suddenly pulled up, and from a silo in its belly it let loose a swarm of...something. The ship's sudden pullup had also revealed the two much larger contacts in its wake.
As the Resh'Dar'Nin's laser defenses tore their way through the incoming contacts, Prator growled out an order. "Report! What kind of weapons are those? And what are those larger contacts in the back?"
His sensors officer reported. "No trace of anything special on the smaller contacts, not even any Element Zero. As far as we can tell, they're just simple chemical rockets. The two larger contacts appear to be some kind of shuttle or other small craft."
Prator suppressed his groan. It's a boarding maneuver. He was about to order the laser batteries to focus on the incoming shuttle craft, but as he watched things play out he realized that would be a mistake. The missiles weren't anything special, likely just lumps of matter with a maneuvering thruster bolted on, but they were coming in fast. They wouldn't hit much harder than a normal mass driver round, but there were just so many that Prator couldn't risk diverting the attention of the lasers from them. If enough made it through they could do some serious damage.
He grit his teeth and gave his orders. "Security teams are to prepare to repel boarders. And recall the Ent'shan to our position."
---
As the Samar pulled out of its lancer run, Tim watched the boarding pods rapidly decelerate to a crawl, slipping through the enemies kinetic barriers and magnetically clamping themselves where they landed. The pods would cut into the hull and two squads of rangers would wreak havoc through the ship.
It was a hard thing to send his rangers into this situation. Realistically, he didn't know how he would retrieve them. These were the sorts of decisions officers had to make. For now, all he could do was focus on the mission. He had Samar flip and burn hard towards the Neera. He hadn't missed it when the two ships had broken off to pursue the transport.
---
Senior Chief Ranger Amancio Paulo lead his squad to link up with the other squad, his rangers carving a bloody path through anything that stood in their way. He suspected this wasn't a proper military ship, the response to his boarding action was too disorganized and ill disciplined for it to be otherwise. It was also possible that they had simply caught the enemy by complete surprise, and they'd organize a proper response soon. This possibility made it something of a relief when he saw the squad led by his second, Chief Ranger Ezekiel Efron.
He approached the man. "Any casualties, Zeke?"
"None so far, Chief. Do we have a path to engineering?" Zeke asked.
"We think so. My squad will take point." He raised his voice. "Everyone, let's move out!"
The two ranger squads made their way to the rear of the ship, facing little in the way of resistance. When they finally reached the drive core and engineering room, they fanned out stepping over the corpses of what had presumably been the engineering team. Eventually, a ranger found what they were looking for. Flipping the big emergency shutoff lever, the boarding team left the cruiser drifting, unable to accelerate or make significant course changes.
Zeke laughed. "That'll wake them up. If I were them, I'd be sending everyone with a gun to engineering."
Chief Paulo nodded. "Have everyone set up in defensive positions." He turned to Senior Ranger Rosa Kreischer, their tech specialist. "Any chance you could fuck around with their weapons and systems from here?"
The ranger leaned her rifle against an engineering console and cracked her knuckles. "Hell Chief, gimme enough time and I'll give you a whole mass driver battery."
---
As the Samar burned towards the Neera's pursuers, one of them had inexplicably doubled back. Sensors revealed that it was the frigate, and it had placed itself in an intercept position with the Samar. Behind it, the Q-ship still burned hard after the Neera, slowly but surely gaining on it.
Tim drummed his fingers against the arm rest of his chair, and then suddenly stood up, turning to face Lisa. "We don't have time to get in a spinal mount duel with this guy, not with the other one bearing down on Neera."
Lisa gave him a concerned look. "You want to make a torpedo run, don't you?"
Tim nodded. "I don't think we've got a way to take this guy down quicker. Their laser defenses are stronger then ours. I think we're going to have to launch all of them if we want to breach their defenses."
"We already used up all of our lances in one pass. If we burn all of our torpedoes on an overkill here, the only thing we'll have left to fight with is the spinal mount." Lisa pointed out.
Tim shrugged. "It'll have to do."
---
The Samar went in for an attack run on the frigate, but this time it didn't come in at the dangerous speeds it had used before, instead it came in at about the same speed any other ship in known space would for a disruptor torpedo run.
The key difference is that these weren't disrupter torpedoes.
The Samar came in under heavy fire from the batarian frigate, but she still managed to get her torpedoes away and break off. Unfortunately for the Samar, the heavy fire did manage to buckle her kinetic barriers at the moment just before the break off. One of the batarian frigate's secondary mass drivers scored a lucky hit, striking the Samar in her underbelly.
This lucky hit didn't spare the frigate its fate, however. It's defensive lasers were more advanced and performed admirably, but these torpedoes had no need to increase their mass and slow themselves down, unlike disrupter torpedoes. Two of them survived the lasers as they streaked in at high speed, and, microseconds before impacting against the frigate's kinetic barriers, they detonated their warheads.
The warheads were a ten kiloton nuclear shape charge, sacrificing raw power for precision. The nuclear explosions shot out at the target in a single direction, preventing the waste of energy that came in a normal warhead. The frigate was obliterated, its pieces flying off in the direction of the explosion, destroyed with all hands
---
Tim felt the whole ship groan from the strike. The fact that he wasn't dead and the ship was still flying showed that the Samar's armor had taken the hit reasonably well. "Damage report!" he called into his intercom.
It was Lieutenant Fahri, the chief engineer, who responded. "All critical systems are still intact, but the spinal mount's been damaged."
Tim grit his teeth at that. "Any chance for repairs?"
The chief engineer sighed. "Maybe, but it'll take time."
Tim sighed as well. "Time we don't have. Get our barriers charged back up, max out our power input for them. Anything left over goes to the engines."
"Aye sir." Fahri said.
Lisa looked at him. "What are you thinking?"
Tim returned the look. "Something stupid." He stood up straight and called out orders. "Plot a direct intercept with the other ship. We're going for a Bison." There was silence on the bridge for a moment, followed by a rush of activity as the crew scurried to follow his orders.
"I'm assuming I don't need to remind you, sir, that this class of ship is not exactly optimized for a bison maneuver." Lisa said, concern etched on her face.
"No, you don't Lieutenant. If there was a better option, I'd take it, but right now the choice is between this and leaving those people to die." Tim said.
The Samar Maneuvered itself into position, and then burned hard towards the Q-ship. A Bison Maneuver was a tricky thing. Too fast, and you'd just blow yourself up in a kinetic explosion. Too slow, and you give the enemy's point defenses extra time to lay into your hull. It was a risky and highly situational maneuver, one intended for the big, highly durable hulls of the mainline warships of the Space Force, and it hadn't been tested in the field with a ship of this class. Desperate times call for desperate measures, however, and the Samar began to decelerate on its approach to the Q-ship.
Lieutenant Fahri spoke with Tim. "We're not the optimal class of ship for something like this, sir, but the enemy is definitely some kind of converted freighter. Against the frigate from earlier, I'd say no way. Against this thing...I'd say maybe."
"It'll have to be enough." Tim said. He turned to Lisa and said. "Is everything ready?"
"Yes sir." she said.
Tim nodded, then keyed his intercom. "All hands stand by to brace." Everyone in the CIC, himself included, strapped themselves in. "Execute." Tim said. The Samar began a headlong charge at the Q-ship. The Q-ship's captain made his first mistake when he broke off his pursuit to meet the threat. It is, however, a mistake he couldn't be blamed for, as he couldn't possibly have guessed at the insane plan the humans had cooked up.
The Bison maneuver was intended as a way for patrol ships to disable noncompliant civilian ships in an emergency situation, without having to resort to the overkill of using their primary weapons. In those circumstances, the ships are moving much slower, and the maneuver isn't intended to kill. However, the ever-paranoid Space Force had envisioned a scenario where it might be used in combat. It's a scenario not unlike the one the Samar was in: a ship with it's weaponry expended or disabled, but still retaining full movement, and having the battle situation be such that retreat is not yet a viable option.
Another name one might use for a Bison maneuver would be a "ramming maneuver".
In the CIC, Tim held his armrests in a white knuckled grip. He watched his screen carefully, waiting for the perfect mome-"Increase our mass now! Everything we have!" he ordered. As he did so one of the crewman in the CIC followed procedure as well.
The crewman keyed the intercom, and shouted. "BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!"
---
The Samar hurtled towards its unfortunate target, and as the batarian captain watched its approach, he noticed a very suspicious lack of weapons fire from the human ship. It simply came on in a direct charge, eating incoming mass driver fire with its kinetic barrier, and the laser fire with its thick hull. When the batarian finally put two and two together, he made his second mistake: he ordered evasive maneuvers. Because of this, instead of facing the charge head on and offering the largest amount of mass for the Samar to have to fight through, the Samar was instead perpendicular to the Q-ship when it struck.
Against such large masses, the kinetic barriers of the two ships were useless. To spare her radiator-wings damage, the Samar had came in flipped on its side. Heavy armor wrapped over a reinforced, military-grade hull crashed against cheap, civilian-grade freighter hull. The freighter crumpled like aluminum foil. The increased mass the Samar had given itself offered little in the way of an increase in durability, but it definitely added power to the impact. In less than a second, the Samar shredded it's way through the Q-ship, ripping it in half and careening out the other side. The two pieces of the Q-ship went flying off in different directions.
The Samar was in one piece, but not unscathed. She looked the worse for wear, her hull scarred and battered, her engines offline. She drifted away from the wreck of the Q-ship, unable to stop herself.
---
Aboard the Neera, the pilgrims were in a frenzy. The captain of the ship hailed the Samar, many of her passengers crowding behind her to look over her shoulder. "Neera to Samar, we will render aid. Are there any survivors?"
The Samar opened up a direct video feed to Neera, and a disheveled and bruised Major Tim was on the other end. "This is the Samar, do not, repeat, do not render aid. Make your way through that relay immediately. There's no time."
The quarian captain was incredulous. "We're not going to just abandon you!"
Tim's face hardened. "And I'm not going to abandon the rangers that boarded the cruiser. We'll have our primary systems back online soon enough. We're not helpless. Now, get those kids the hell out of here before those other two frigates make for our position." he cut out the transmission
Behind her, many of the pilgrims were expressing their objections, loudly. "Shut Up!" The captain shouted. "They fought and died to give us this opportunity to flee, to squander it would be an insult to the dead. Get back to your bunks, and stay quiet." With reluctance, the pilgrims made their way back to the living area of the ship, dejectedly. Some reacted with anger, others cried, but they all complied.
The Neera went through the relay.
---
Aboard the Samar, Tim worked frantically with his crew, the infirmary was busy collecting the casualties, while engineering scrambled to get the thrusters online again. Tim had every free pair of hands working to get the spinal mount online again, though in truth he wasn't even sure if it was possible. The secondary maneuvering thrusters were still online, and the still-drifting Samar had turned to face its enemy.
---
Hello, this chapter came together very quickly and was made from a lot of quick flashes of inspiration that came together into something much different from what was originally planned. I hope you enjoyed it, and as always thank you for reading and please share your thoughts in the comments!
Scars
May 8, 2089
After making it's way back through the relay, the Neera immediately sent an emergency message to the Migrant fleet, informing them of the ambush and requesting aid, even as it burned hard away from the relay in an effort to put distance between themselves and the batarians. They were confident that batarian ships would come through the relay at any moment.
The message had thrown the fleet into a frenzy as the Admiralty hastily scraped together a wolfpack of their fastest ships and sent it to the Neera at maximum speed. Aboard the lead ship of this wolfpack Neph and Henry had found themselves brought along, more as a "just in case" than for any tangible purpose. The pair did not complain, however, as the prospect of waiting around back at the fleets for word of the Samar's fate to get back to them was not an appealing one.
"Do you think they made it?" Neph asked, immediately feeling stupid for asking the question.
"No." Henry said simply. "The math is not in their favor. If Neera's report is accurate, then they've already expended most of their munitions, in addition to taking extensive damage."
Neph didn't really have a response to that. It was simple common sense. Yet, she still hoped, foolish though it may have been.
---
Some time earlier
Prator was watching the human ship make its getaway after dropping its boarding pods. His two escorts opened fire on the retreating ship, but it was too fast and agile for it to be effective. The escorts didn't follow beyond a relatively short distance from the flagship, much to Prator's annoyance. I guess they've never heard of "initiative". I'll have to order them to-His ship's engines cut out suddenly, leaving the Resh'Dar'Nin adrift on its current trajectory. Damn it.
"Status report!" he ordered.
"Boarders are believed to have seized the engine room, sir. Likely they got to the emergency shutoff." a tech responded.
Prator's two escorts had flipped around and moved on the flagship, presumably in an attempt to render aid. Idiots. thought Prator.
"Order them to pursue the human ship!" Prator commanded.
"Aye sir...sir, our comms are down!" the tech replied.
Prator cursed. "The boarders are probably in our systems. Flush them out, then transmit the order! And send all security teams to the engine room." This was bad. If they could access the ship's comms like this, it wasn't impossible for them to take over other systems. If they managed to pry their way past the main reactor's security measures, they could power down the whole ship!
"I want guns in every crewman's hands, on the double!" He'd send everyone with a pulse into that engine room if that's what it took. The crew scurried around to obey, and Prator glared at the image of his escorts, still approaching him instead of pursuing the enemy like they should have been. Prator sighed. He couldn't really fault them for it. There were plenty of batarian warlords who would execute their subordinates for leaving the flagship behind disabled to chase after a fleeing enemy. If they'd used their brains, they'd realize it was the best course of action for the completion of the mission.
Unfortunately for Prator, completing the mission was a secondary objective next to covering one's ass for batarian officers. He couldn't really fault them, they were a product of their training and upbringing.
Of course, that wouldn't stop him from personally executing both of the captains when this laughable farce of a battle was over.
---
Aboard the Samar, Major Tim Li heard something resembling good news for the first time since the ambush had started, out of the mouth of his chief engineer, Lieutenant Fahri.
"Our propulsion wasn't knocked out sir, it was our control system. It got banged up during the maneuver, and the emergency safeties cut the engines to avoid us sending ourselves into a tailspin. " the engineer said.
"Can you get it back up?" the Major asked.
"The engine and gimbal are both fine, fortunately, so the only thing we actually need to fix is the control system itself, which we've got the parts for. What we don't have the parts for is the spinal mount. Don't worry, we can still get it up and running, but our fire rate is going to be suboptimal." Fahri said.
"How suboptimal?" Tim asked.
"We can probably still outshoot the Q-ship, but if we try to take that frigate in a straight-up fight, we'll get our ass handed to us. And I don't think I even need to mention our chances against the cruiser." Fahri said.
Tim smiled. "Actually, that cruiser might be the solution to our problems."
---
Prator looked on in shock as the distant light of twin nuclear explosions obliterated the Ent'shan and sent it's scattered pieces flying out through the star system. The human ship looked to be some kind of light patrol ship, probably intended to fight pirates. And they had given it nukes. Who would give strategic weapons to a light patrol skiff? Were these people insane?
Prator had a brief moment of panic that he squashed ruthlessly. Obviously, his first impression of the ship's purpose had been incorrect. It must have been some sort of long-range super-heavy bomber, which would explain the massive kinetic payload the ship had dumped on him to cover the boarding action not too long ago.
Prator found himself sighing yet again. If his escorts didn't pursue the human ship before, the definitely weren't going to now. Which was a shame, as their incentives to stick around had been dwindling. The boarding team had hacked into the weapons systems, and were seizing control of individual batteries, taking pot shots at the escorts. Every time Prator's techs managed to kick the hacker out of a weapon and lock the system down, the virus popped up in another weapon. It was maddening. The techs were having trouble making heads or tails of the alien program. It's logic was...odd to a batarian mind, which should probably be expected, since it hadn't come from a batarian mind.
Prator cursed the Hegemony leadership and their overconfidence. It all made sense in hindsight. The humans had captured the support ship from Halmak's ill-fated flotilla, which they would have of course spent every waking moment pouring over for any scrap of information about their enemies that they could find. Meanwhile, all Prator had been able to give to the Hegemony was footage of the failed attack. So, the human hacker was likely intimately familiar with batarian computing logic, while Prator's techs had to learn human logic on the fly. It was not a recipe for success.
The human ship was burning its way towards the other ship Prator had sent after the fleeing transport, one of the Q-ships. Prator didn't have much confidence in the Q-ship's ability to fight off the humans but, assuming that the human ship had expended all of it's nuclear weapons, it wasn't impossible for the ship to get lucky.
As the human ship burned harder towards the Q-ship without any indication it was going to decelerate, Prator began to suspect that it was going to make another kinetic bombing run, similar to what had been done to his flagship. The thought that the ship still had bombs left after the sheer amount that had been unleashed against him was hard to believe, but he couldn't think of another explanation for the behavior.
When the ship passed into laser range without anything happening, Prator grew even more confused. The human ship had cut it's acceleration, and was maneuvering towards the Q-ship on secondary thruster. Suddenly, it increased it's mass dramatically, and Prator didn't have to guess its intentions any longer. Madness.
The human ship sheared through the Q-ship like a red hot knife, ripping it in half and then drifting without direction for several kilometers. Prator's horrified expression softened at the sight. The fools had disabled themselves! The improvement to Prator's mood didn't last, as he watched his escorts mindlessly fly in and out of range of his rogue weapons, oblivious to the perfect opportunity right under their noses. It was possible they were trying to get in close to dispatch their own boarding teams to aid in the fight, but Prator suspected that was giving them too much credit.
Prator fumed. "Tell those imbeciles to burn with everything they have for the human ship, before they can make repairs. I don't care if you have to use smoke signals to do it!" Even as he raged, he knew it was pointless. They weren't going to-
"Sir, our main engines are firing!" a tech shouted.
What?
The Resh'Dar'Nin suddenly and violently flipped up, burning hard in a rapid loop de loop, ending up in roughly the same spot it had started.
"Status report! What was that?" Prator roared.
---
Chief Paulo gave a baleful look to Rosa Kreischer, who looked more than a little sheepish as she worked at the engineering terminal.
Zeke laughed uproariously, before grinning at the woman. "Well, that's one way to signal the Major." he managed to get out, before laughing again.
---
Tim had indeed received his rangers' "signal", and upon hearing the good news from Lieutenant Fahri, a plan had formed in the back of his mind.
There were still some astronauts working on secondary repairs, but the Samar was still in as good a repair after her ordeal as she could be without a full work-over from a drydock. Tim took a deep breath, and gave his orders.
"Set vector for the batarian flotilla."
The crew moved to obey, and the Samar's engines fired as she faithfully answered the call of her crew once again. The interceptor burned hard towards her foes, kinetic barriers up and spinal mount at the ready. Tim's plan was delightfully simple: close in and gun them down. The success of the plan hinged on the boarding team figuring out his intentions. Tim didn't like relying on such an unreliable variable, but it was the only plan he could think of.
The Samar swerved towards the Q-ship, closing to attack range. The Q-ship opened up with it's dorsal and ventral mass driver turrets, firing shots that the Samar easily dodged. Tim guessed the captain was either panicked, inexperienced, or both, because any captain with any sense would know that firing such weapons at this range was a fruitless effort.
As the Samar closed in, she opened up with her spinal mount. The rounds came out slow, but they came out. The Q-ship frantically maneuvered to dodge, only to fly itself right into the incoming path of a mass driver round fired from the batarian cruiser. Tim smiled. The boarding team had figured it out.
---
Another wave of batarians assaulted the engine room, apparently undeterred by the growing mound of batarian corpses littering the perfectly-sighted killzone that was the engine room entrance. The poor dumb bastards charged in, clutching elderly pistols scavenged from various sources throughout the ship, desperately looking for cover as the hail of human gunfire butchered them. A few managed to take cover behind the corspes, but it was woefully inadequate for the amount of mass being dumped on them. Chief Paulo almost felt sorry for the poor fools. The batarians had tried human (batarian?) wave tactics, but they just ended up getting in each others' way in the narrow space of the entrance. They'd been forced to attack in smaller waves, sending in armed groups as fast as they could assemble them. It was wearing the rangers down, but the Chief was confident that they could hold a good while longer.
The movies and video games always had the waves getting harder as the battle continued, but the reality was that all the real batarian soldiers had been killed in the first attempts to dislodge the rangers from the engine room, and the quality of the fighters sent after that had continuously declined as the well of batarian manpower began to run dry. Paulo suspected that at this point they were just handing a weapon to the cooks and janitors and ordering them to go die for the Hegemony.
The last batarian in the attack fell, and Chief Paulo heard a call from Rosa.
"Chief, I think the Major is making his move!" she said.
Paulo pulled himself out of cover, trusting his rangers to gun down any surprise survivors that might take a shot at him. He moved over to Rosa.
"What's he doing." he asked.
"Samar is moving in for an attack run. I think he's going to make for the Q-ship." she replied.
Paulo didn't hesitate. "Be prepared to give the Samar fire support when you're in the position to, and use the batteries not facing the Q-ship to keep that frigate at bay. We need to help him defeat them in detail."
Rosa nodded and focused intently on her engineering console. A hail of gunfire let the Chief know that the batarians were making another assault on the engine room. He shook his head and bolted back to his position.
---
The Q-ship captain had apparently regained his senses, as he made his first good call of the fight and charged headlong for the Samar. It was the right move to make, as the Samar could just sit back and plink away at the Q-ship's barriers using its spinal-mount's superior range, while all the Q-ship could do was fire back ineffectually with its turrets. It also had the side benefit of getting it further away from the batarian cruiser's rogue guns.
Tim called out his orders. "Keep us facing them and shooting at them. Use lateral thrusters to move us around behind them."
"I doubt he's going to just stand around and let us flank him, sir." Tim's XO, Lisa, said.
Tim nodded. "I know. It's a feint."
Lisa nodded, recognition of what he was planning dawning on her face. The Samar moved laterally around the Q-ship, trying to get behind it, the Q-ship turned rapidly and charged once again...bringing itself right back into the range of the batarian cruiser's guns.
The Samar had never stopped firing, and as the batarian ship charged headlong into the human one it's barriers struggled to absorb the blows. As the batarian captain realized his mistake the Q-ship' s barriers buckled and the fragile hull beneath was mercilessly perforated by the rounds. As the batarian captain drew in a breath to give the order to surrender, the bridge was liquified in a kinetic explosion.
"Cease fire." Tim ordered, and the Samar instantly obeyed, the rogue guns on the cruiser soon silenced themselves as well when they noticed the Samar had stopped firing. Tim barely had to glance at the Q-ship to know that it was a mission-kill. There was no need for him to completely obliterate every target on the field.
"Bring us around for an attack run on that frigate!" Tim ordered.
---
The batarian captain observed the mangled corpse of the other escort. Then he watched as the alien ship, battered and battle-scarred, maneuvered in for what was clearly an attack run. He eyed his only remaining "ally" in the system, the flagship whose guns seemed to be more interested in firing at him than the enemy. The batarian took all of this in, blinking his four eyes slowly. Then, he gave the obvious order.
"Burn hard for the edge of the system. We're getting out of here."
The crew didn't need to be told twice. These weren't proper warrior caste men, who took shame in retreat. These were pirates, slavers, mercenaries. Living to fight another day sounded good to them.
As his ship fled at maximum acceleration, the captain planned his future. The Terminus systems. He'd find a new pirate flotilla to serve in. One that didn't get trounced by a single alien ship twice in the span of two months.
---
Prator watched the frigate leave, and he found himself to have exhausted his reserves of rage. Hell, he'd probably do the same thing in the captain's position. He keyed the intercom. "Attention human boarders." he said, "The ship is yours. Please return communications to me so that I may signal my surrender to your commander."
He waited, not making eye contact with any of his crew. No response was given from the boarders, but a nod from his communications officer told him they had comms again. Prator sent out a transmission on an open channel. "Attention human captain. This is Captain Prator. My ship is boarded, my escorts are destroyed or routed, and my weapons systems are compromised. Please give your terms for surrender."
A moment passed, and the response was heard. "Unconditional."
---
Tim sagged into his chair, feeling like he'd aged ten years over the course of the brief skirmish. He turned to Lisa. "Tell Senior Chief Paulo to start disarming all of the prisoners, and to select some among them to fly out in shuttles to pick up any survivors. Make Prator coordinate with him." The woman nodded and moved to follow his orders.
Tim looked up at the ceiling, marveling at the fact that he was not only still alive, but victorious. This was the sort of victory that would be talked about in the history books, taught in classrooms at the Space Force Officer Academy back on Earth. Tim wasn't worried about it going to his head, because he was confident that his own skills had little to do with it, no matter what others would say. He was no genius, it was just the perfect storm of events. The batarians almost complete lack of intel on their foes, the miraculous success of the boarding operation, the failure of the two escort captains, and the element of surprise that came from his weapons and tactics. Any competent officer could have done it, in Tim's opinion, and he wasn't too humble to admit that he was, indeed, competent.
Tim looked back down, and almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.
---
Hey all, this is another shorter chapter, so that we could wrap up both the cliffhanger and this particular story arc (finally). With this done, we should be able to move on to the meat and potatoes of the narrative in the next chapters. I look forward to it. Thank you very much for reading this far, and as always please share your thoughts in the comments.
After making it's way back through the relay, the Neera immediately sent an emergency message to the Migrant fleet, informing them of the ambush and requesting aid, even as it burned hard away from the relay in an effort to put distance between themselves and the batarians. They were confident that batarian ships would come through the relay at any moment.
The message had thrown the fleet into a frenzy as the Admiralty hastily scraped together a wolfpack of their fastest ships and sent it to the Neera at maximum speed. Aboard the lead ship of this wolfpack Neph and Henry had found themselves brought along, more as a "just in case" than for any tangible purpose. The pair did not complain, however, as the prospect of waiting around back at the fleets for word of the Samar's fate to get back to them was not an appealing one.
"Do you think they made it?" Neph asked, immediately feeling stupid for asking the question.
"No." Henry said simply. "The math is not in their favor. If Neera's report is accurate, then they've already expended most of their munitions, in addition to taking extensive damage."
Neph didn't really have a response to that. It was simple common sense. Yet, she still hoped, foolish though it may have been.
---
Some time earlier
Prator was watching the human ship make its getaway after dropping its boarding pods. His two escorts opened fire on the retreating ship, but it was too fast and agile for it to be effective. The escorts didn't follow beyond a relatively short distance from the flagship, much to Prator's annoyance. I guess they've never heard of "initiative". I'll have to order them to-His ship's engines cut out suddenly, leaving the Resh'Dar'Nin adrift on its current trajectory. Damn it.
"Status report!" he ordered.
"Boarders are believed to have seized the engine room, sir. Likely they got to the emergency shutoff." a tech responded.
Prator's two escorts had flipped around and moved on the flagship, presumably in an attempt to render aid. Idiots. thought Prator.
"Order them to pursue the human ship!" Prator commanded.
"Aye sir...sir, our comms are down!" the tech replied.
Prator cursed. "The boarders are probably in our systems. Flush them out, then transmit the order! And send all security teams to the engine room." This was bad. If they could access the ship's comms like this, it wasn't impossible for them to take over other systems. If they managed to pry their way past the main reactor's security measures, they could power down the whole ship!
"I want guns in every crewman's hands, on the double!" He'd send everyone with a pulse into that engine room if that's what it took. The crew scurried around to obey, and Prator glared at the image of his escorts, still approaching him instead of pursuing the enemy like they should have been. Prator sighed. He couldn't really fault them for it. There were plenty of batarian warlords who would execute their subordinates for leaving the flagship behind disabled to chase after a fleeing enemy. If they'd used their brains, they'd realize it was the best course of action for the completion of the mission.
Unfortunately for Prator, completing the mission was a secondary objective next to covering one's ass for batarian officers. He couldn't really fault them, they were a product of their training and upbringing.
Of course, that wouldn't stop him from personally executing both of the captains when this laughable farce of a battle was over.
---
Aboard the Samar, Major Tim Li heard something resembling good news for the first time since the ambush had started, out of the mouth of his chief engineer, Lieutenant Fahri.
"Our propulsion wasn't knocked out sir, it was our control system. It got banged up during the maneuver, and the emergency safeties cut the engines to avoid us sending ourselves into a tailspin. " the engineer said.
"Can you get it back up?" the Major asked.
"The engine and gimbal are both fine, fortunately, so the only thing we actually need to fix is the control system itself, which we've got the parts for. What we don't have the parts for is the spinal mount. Don't worry, we can still get it up and running, but our fire rate is going to be suboptimal." Fahri said.
"How suboptimal?" Tim asked.
"We can probably still outshoot the Q-ship, but if we try to take that frigate in a straight-up fight, we'll get our ass handed to us. And I don't think I even need to mention our chances against the cruiser." Fahri said.
Tim smiled. "Actually, that cruiser might be the solution to our problems."
---
Prator looked on in shock as the distant light of twin nuclear explosions obliterated the Ent'shan and sent it's scattered pieces flying out through the star system. The human ship looked to be some kind of light patrol ship, probably intended to fight pirates. And they had given it nukes. Who would give strategic weapons to a light patrol skiff? Were these people insane?
Prator had a brief moment of panic that he squashed ruthlessly. Obviously, his first impression of the ship's purpose had been incorrect. It must have been some sort of long-range super-heavy bomber, which would explain the massive kinetic payload the ship had dumped on him to cover the boarding action not too long ago.
Prator found himself sighing yet again. If his escorts didn't pursue the human ship before, the definitely weren't going to now. Which was a shame, as their incentives to stick around had been dwindling. The boarding team had hacked into the weapons systems, and were seizing control of individual batteries, taking pot shots at the escorts. Every time Prator's techs managed to kick the hacker out of a weapon and lock the system down, the virus popped up in another weapon. It was maddening. The techs were having trouble making heads or tails of the alien program. It's logic was...odd to a batarian mind, which should probably be expected, since it hadn't come from a batarian mind.
Prator cursed the Hegemony leadership and their overconfidence. It all made sense in hindsight. The humans had captured the support ship from Halmak's ill-fated flotilla, which they would have of course spent every waking moment pouring over for any scrap of information about their enemies that they could find. Meanwhile, all Prator had been able to give to the Hegemony was footage of the failed attack. So, the human hacker was likely intimately familiar with batarian computing logic, while Prator's techs had to learn human logic on the fly. It was not a recipe for success.
The human ship was burning its way towards the other ship Prator had sent after the fleeing transport, one of the Q-ships. Prator didn't have much confidence in the Q-ship's ability to fight off the humans but, assuming that the human ship had expended all of it's nuclear weapons, it wasn't impossible for the ship to get lucky.
As the human ship burned harder towards the Q-ship without any indication it was going to decelerate, Prator began to suspect that it was going to make another kinetic bombing run, similar to what had been done to his flagship. The thought that the ship still had bombs left after the sheer amount that had been unleashed against him was hard to believe, but he couldn't think of another explanation for the behavior.
When the ship passed into laser range without anything happening, Prator grew even more confused. The human ship had cut it's acceleration, and was maneuvering towards the Q-ship on secondary thruster. Suddenly, it increased it's mass dramatically, and Prator didn't have to guess its intentions any longer. Madness.
The human ship sheared through the Q-ship like a red hot knife, ripping it in half and then drifting without direction for several kilometers. Prator's horrified expression softened at the sight. The fools had disabled themselves! The improvement to Prator's mood didn't last, as he watched his escorts mindlessly fly in and out of range of his rogue weapons, oblivious to the perfect opportunity right under their noses. It was possible they were trying to get in close to dispatch their own boarding teams to aid in the fight, but Prator suspected that was giving them too much credit.
Prator fumed. "Tell those imbeciles to burn with everything they have for the human ship, before they can make repairs. I don't care if you have to use smoke signals to do it!" Even as he raged, he knew it was pointless. They weren't going to-
"Sir, our main engines are firing!" a tech shouted.
What?
The Resh'Dar'Nin suddenly and violently flipped up, burning hard in a rapid loop de loop, ending up in roughly the same spot it had started.
"Status report! What was that?" Prator roared.
---
Chief Paulo gave a baleful look to Rosa Kreischer, who looked more than a little sheepish as she worked at the engineering terminal.
Zeke laughed uproariously, before grinning at the woman. "Well, that's one way to signal the Major." he managed to get out, before laughing again.
---
Tim had indeed received his rangers' "signal", and upon hearing the good news from Lieutenant Fahri, a plan had formed in the back of his mind.
There were still some astronauts working on secondary repairs, but the Samar was still in as good a repair after her ordeal as she could be without a full work-over from a drydock. Tim took a deep breath, and gave his orders.
"Set vector for the batarian flotilla."
The crew moved to obey, and the Samar's engines fired as she faithfully answered the call of her crew once again. The interceptor burned hard towards her foes, kinetic barriers up and spinal mount at the ready. Tim's plan was delightfully simple: close in and gun them down. The success of the plan hinged on the boarding team figuring out his intentions. Tim didn't like relying on such an unreliable variable, but it was the only plan he could think of.
The Samar swerved towards the Q-ship, closing to attack range. The Q-ship opened up with it's dorsal and ventral mass driver turrets, firing shots that the Samar easily dodged. Tim guessed the captain was either panicked, inexperienced, or both, because any captain with any sense would know that firing such weapons at this range was a fruitless effort.
As the Samar closed in, she opened up with her spinal mount. The rounds came out slow, but they came out. The Q-ship frantically maneuvered to dodge, only to fly itself right into the incoming path of a mass driver round fired from the batarian cruiser. Tim smiled. The boarding team had figured it out.
---
Another wave of batarians assaulted the engine room, apparently undeterred by the growing mound of batarian corpses littering the perfectly-sighted killzone that was the engine room entrance. The poor dumb bastards charged in, clutching elderly pistols scavenged from various sources throughout the ship, desperately looking for cover as the hail of human gunfire butchered them. A few managed to take cover behind the corspes, but it was woefully inadequate for the amount of mass being dumped on them. Chief Paulo almost felt sorry for the poor fools. The batarians had tried human (batarian?) wave tactics, but they just ended up getting in each others' way in the narrow space of the entrance. They'd been forced to attack in smaller waves, sending in armed groups as fast as they could assemble them. It was wearing the rangers down, but the Chief was confident that they could hold a good while longer.
The movies and video games always had the waves getting harder as the battle continued, but the reality was that all the real batarian soldiers had been killed in the first attempts to dislodge the rangers from the engine room, and the quality of the fighters sent after that had continuously declined as the well of batarian manpower began to run dry. Paulo suspected that at this point they were just handing a weapon to the cooks and janitors and ordering them to go die for the Hegemony.
The last batarian in the attack fell, and Chief Paulo heard a call from Rosa.
"Chief, I think the Major is making his move!" she said.
Paulo pulled himself out of cover, trusting his rangers to gun down any surprise survivors that might take a shot at him. He moved over to Rosa.
"What's he doing." he asked.
"Samar is moving in for an attack run. I think he's going to make for the Q-ship." she replied.
Paulo didn't hesitate. "Be prepared to give the Samar fire support when you're in the position to, and use the batteries not facing the Q-ship to keep that frigate at bay. We need to help him defeat them in detail."
Rosa nodded and focused intently on her engineering console. A hail of gunfire let the Chief know that the batarians were making another assault on the engine room. He shook his head and bolted back to his position.
---
The Q-ship captain had apparently regained his senses, as he made his first good call of the fight and charged headlong for the Samar. It was the right move to make, as the Samar could just sit back and plink away at the Q-ship's barriers using its spinal-mount's superior range, while all the Q-ship could do was fire back ineffectually with its turrets. It also had the side benefit of getting it further away from the batarian cruiser's rogue guns.
Tim called out his orders. "Keep us facing them and shooting at them. Use lateral thrusters to move us around behind them."
"I doubt he's going to just stand around and let us flank him, sir." Tim's XO, Lisa, said.
Tim nodded. "I know. It's a feint."
Lisa nodded, recognition of what he was planning dawning on her face. The Samar moved laterally around the Q-ship, trying to get behind it, the Q-ship turned rapidly and charged once again...bringing itself right back into the range of the batarian cruiser's guns.
The Samar had never stopped firing, and as the batarian ship charged headlong into the human one it's barriers struggled to absorb the blows. As the batarian captain realized his mistake the Q-ship' s barriers buckled and the fragile hull beneath was mercilessly perforated by the rounds. As the batarian captain drew in a breath to give the order to surrender, the bridge was liquified in a kinetic explosion.
"Cease fire." Tim ordered, and the Samar instantly obeyed, the rogue guns on the cruiser soon silenced themselves as well when they noticed the Samar had stopped firing. Tim barely had to glance at the Q-ship to know that it was a mission-kill. There was no need for him to completely obliterate every target on the field.
"Bring us around for an attack run on that frigate!" Tim ordered.
---
The batarian captain observed the mangled corpse of the other escort. Then he watched as the alien ship, battered and battle-scarred, maneuvered in for what was clearly an attack run. He eyed his only remaining "ally" in the system, the flagship whose guns seemed to be more interested in firing at him than the enemy. The batarian took all of this in, blinking his four eyes slowly. Then, he gave the obvious order.
"Burn hard for the edge of the system. We're getting out of here."
The crew didn't need to be told twice. These weren't proper warrior caste men, who took shame in retreat. These were pirates, slavers, mercenaries. Living to fight another day sounded good to them.
As his ship fled at maximum acceleration, the captain planned his future. The Terminus systems. He'd find a new pirate flotilla to serve in. One that didn't get trounced by a single alien ship twice in the span of two months.
---
Prator watched the frigate leave, and he found himself to have exhausted his reserves of rage. Hell, he'd probably do the same thing in the captain's position. He keyed the intercom. "Attention human boarders." he said, "The ship is yours. Please return communications to me so that I may signal my surrender to your commander."
He waited, not making eye contact with any of his crew. No response was given from the boarders, but a nod from his communications officer told him they had comms again. Prator sent out a transmission on an open channel. "Attention human captain. This is Captain Prator. My ship is boarded, my escorts are destroyed or routed, and my weapons systems are compromised. Please give your terms for surrender."
A moment passed, and the response was heard. "Unconditional."
---
Tim sagged into his chair, feeling like he'd aged ten years over the course of the brief skirmish. He turned to Lisa. "Tell Senior Chief Paulo to start disarming all of the prisoners, and to select some among them to fly out in shuttles to pick up any survivors. Make Prator coordinate with him." The woman nodded and moved to follow his orders.
Tim looked up at the ceiling, marveling at the fact that he was not only still alive, but victorious. This was the sort of victory that would be talked about in the history books, taught in classrooms at the Space Force Officer Academy back on Earth. Tim wasn't worried about it going to his head, because he was confident that his own skills had little to do with it, no matter what others would say. He was no genius, it was just the perfect storm of events. The batarians almost complete lack of intel on their foes, the miraculous success of the boarding operation, the failure of the two escort captains, and the element of surprise that came from his weapons and tactics. Any competent officer could have done it, in Tim's opinion, and he wasn't too humble to admit that he was, indeed, competent.
Tim looked back down, and almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.
---
Hey all, this is another shorter chapter, so that we could wrap up both the cliffhanger and this particular story arc (finally). With this done, we should be able to move on to the meat and potatoes of the narrative in the next chapters. I look forward to it. Thank you very much for reading this far, and as always please share your thoughts in the comments.
Processing
AN: This chapter might be a little on the heavy side for some people. Nothing particularly graphic, but there are definitely some unpleasant themes and ideas here. If you're the sort of person who has trouble with that, keep that in mind
---
May 5, 2089
An icy planet soared through the void. It's atmosphere was breathable, which suggested some sort of oxygen excreting microbe must have existed here at some point, but that was long in the past, perhaps in a warmer time. The only things that lived here now were extremophile microbes, and the ever-stubborn species known as homo sapiens, who, in their eternal quest to name inanimate objects, had dubbed the world "Tahun". It was a fairly small colony, no more than 80,000 people, but it was growing rapidly.
When the miserable ice cube of a planet had been discovered 16 years ago no one thought it of any value. It would be cheaper to colonize Antarctica, and the weather would be nicer there, too. The vast amount of hydrocarbons beneath its surface might have been of value for the polymers and plastics industry, but Jupiter's moon Titan had entire seas of the stuff, and was much closer to home, which is why it dominated the polymers industry.
However, a collection of manufacturing startups had been looking to cut into the markets in the frontier colonies, where they wouldn't have to deal with the relentless competition on Earth. They hatched a hare-brained scheme: they'd use the hydrocarbons of the planet as a cheap power source for factories and light industry, producing products which they could sell to the colonies on the fringe of civilization, and at a reduced price thanks to the cheaper transport cost. The best part of all: the emissions of the hydrocarbon powerplants, which would've cause problems on Earth, could be a boon on Tahun.
Climate Change, the very phenomenon which had caused so much trouble decades ago could now be harnessed as a sort of poor man's terraforming. The companies pitched it to prospective colonists: steady work and steady pay, and you get to see your grandchildren grow up on a world you helped to warm!
They didn't get any takers.
So, they instead went to the poorer regions of Earth, and recruited prospective colonists who couldn't afford to get on a ship to one of the good planets. While the overall standard of living for most humans was higher than it had ever been, the wealth disparity between the former "first" and "third" worlds was still noticeable. Most of the colonists had come from South East Asia, primarily Indonesia and Malaysia, though there were also some Vietnamese, Thai, and the odd Chinese who came along too.
Sixteen years later, and the planet had, in fact, warmed. By a fraction of a degree. As it turned out, the carbon output of a single small city was not really comparable to the carbon output of an entire civilization running on fossil fuels. In time, however, this would change. While the comparison of their tropical motherlands to the ice cube they now called home was not a flattering one, it had still grown on some of them. Especially the children born there. They had begun to settle in, finding satisfaction in their new lives.
---
In the void between the planets orbiting Tahun's star, a flotilla of batarian ships burned on an intercept course with the icy world.
The batarians had run into a roadblock in their incursion into human space: they didn't know where anything was. The UN had been fiercely protecting the location of Earth and her colonies, and the batarians had essentially zero intel to go off of. What made matters worse was the region where human space resided seemed to have the lowest density of Mass Relays in the explored galaxy. The lack of relays was probably a logistical headache in peacetime, but in a war such as this one, it was a "geographic" advantage. This meant that finding any human settlements to attack had proven something of a challenge, as each individual star system had to be explored using conventional FTL, which took time.
The Batarian Expeditionary Fleet had over 2000 ships, more than enough to thoroughly explore human space. Or at least, it should have been. While the humans had yet to reveal a large fleet, individual ships and pairs of ships would inevitable fall upon any lone frigate or cruiser exploring an uncharted star system. All of these factors combined together to make progress very slow for the BEF. When a settlement or piece of infrastructure was discovered, a raid fleet was dispatched from the main formation to raze the settlement and seize captives.
The human settlements discovered thus far were of minimal strategic value. They lacked meaningful infrastructure or resource extraction facilities. For the most part, it was more profitable in the long run to just sack the settlements and drag the population away in chains. The flotilla heading for Tahun was here to do just that. Lead by a Heavy cruiser, escorted by four light cruisers and a dozen frigates, the flotilla easily swatted the pitiful excuses for orbital defenses aside.
Captain Arnolak observed the scout reports on the planet below with disinterest. This would not be a challenge. The colony was made up of only a single city, sitting in a valley between glaciers.
"Land our troops. Let's get this over with." he ordered.
---
Within Tahun City, the Tahun Defense Force was fully mobilized and awaiting enemy attack. Their detection grid had picked up the incoming batarian fleet hours ago, and the population had been herded into the emergency shelters while the Defense Force troopers suited up. Their gear was the same as any other light infantry in human space: a full face helmet, chest armor, gauntlets, shin guards, and knee and elbow pads, all worn over a flak-resistant jumpsuit, dyed mottled white in their case. The TDF troopers also wore a hooded white over coat over their gear, the same mottled white color as their jumpsuit. It was more for camouflage than for warmth, as their suits were designed for temperature regulation and heat-retention.
The UN was still scrambling to reinforce the colonial garrisons with troops from the nations of Earth, but moving such vast amounts of troops, and their equipment, and their supplies, through space to humanity's scattered colonies on such short notice had proven to be a logistical nightmare. No reinforcements had reached fringe colonies like Tahun yet, but the UN had been able to ship automated weapons systems to upgrade their defense grid. It was better than nothing.
The batarians had attempted an aerial attack on the city, and had been unpleasantly surprised when an array of autoguns and SAM sites had opened up on them. As their dropships unloaded troops, a frigate hovered in the background, preparing to provide sturdier (albeit less precise) air support to the advancing troops.
The troops made their way into the city, clearing buildings with quick, clean sweeps. These were no pirates or mercs, these were warrior caste men. Professionals. The TDF troopers were dug in inside bunkers, pillboxes, and tunnels. The batarian troops methodically cleared the TDF out of every fortification with a professional efficiency. Their kinetic barriers gave them advantage over the barrier-less humans, and each skirmish was a forgone conclusion, though the TDF resisted viscously, often dying to a man. When a particularly stubborn fortification or automated weapon was encountered, the hovering frigate would move in and pound it with its secondary cannons.
The TDF fought back desperately, but the outcome had never been in doubt.
---
Budi clutched his knees closer to his chest as another vibration was felt in the civilian shelter. Fear gripped his heart as he thought about his father, out fighting with the other TDF troopers, and his mother, who he had lost track of in the scramble to get to the shelters. He was 19, old enough to be out there fighting, in his opinion. His father had disagreed, telling him he'd just get in the way of the people who were actually trained for it. Budi hadn't argued too much. In truth, he'd never had the bravado other young man seemed to possess. He was secretly relieved to not be out there. Another vibration, stronger this time, shook the shelter, and reaffirmed this feeling in Budi's mind.
Twenty minutes passed, and the faint echo of gunfire and explosions had died away. Suddenly, hole was burned through the door, and a team of batarian soldiers stormed in.
"Out! Get out of the shelter now!" they screamed in English through their Omni tools. Those in the crowd who understood English moved to obey in fear, with those who didn't understand soon following after them, getting the hint.
There were perhaps a thousand people of all sorts crowded into the civilian bunker, and they scurried out to the front of the bunker, where more batarian soldiers waited. Out of the many other bunkers came thousands more civilians, each of them looking on the batarians with fear. They stood there, shivering in the freezing cold, until a batarian walked up in the center of them. He looked to be an officer of some sort. Behind him, dirty, battered, and bloody TDF troopers were dragged into a line and forced on their knees.
Some of the troopers cried, others clutched at wounds, and others just kneeled there quietly, looking up at the sky. The batarian officer nodded to another batarian, who nodded back and then barked an order. The soldiers gathered behind the POWs opened up with automatic fire. The POWs were quickly dispatched. The crowd looked on and shrieks and gasps of horror were uttered. The batarian who had vocalized the order walked among the bloody remains, firing shots from his pistol into any who were still twitching.
Without any words at all, the officer had sent a clear message: "You've lost."
---
The logistics of being enslaved were surprisingly complex, thought Budi. The batarians had begun gruffly asking them their age, profession, skills, education. It was like a job interview, but with a gun pointed at you. Those with valuable skills were prioritized, being herded into transport ships that had landed at the edge of the city. Budi, being an apprentice electrician himself, had been quickly snatched up by the batarians. Budi found himself on a batarian transport ship, going into space for the first time since he had made the trip to Tahun with his parents at the age of three.
Crammed in the shuttle with the other captives like sardines, Budi wished he had a window to look out of. If only to give his home one last look.
---
Down on the planet, around 10,000 people had been left behind, the batarian slave ships apparently being at their capacity. They were mostly a mix of children, the elderly, and those lacking any useful skills. It was always surprisingly easy to get parents to leave their children behind, as it gave them the hope that their children could escape the fate of slavery, even if they themselves couldn't. Under normal circumstances, they would've probably been right. Unfortunately for those left behind, Captain Arnolak had orders to deny any and all assets to the enemy, particularly economic infrastructure like that in this colony.
He turned to his weapons officer. "You have permission to fire whenever we're ready."
The heavy cruiser took careful aim, and fired its spinal mount once on a carefully calculated trajectory.
In the small colony below, the confused and panicked survivors were trying to collect themselves and figure out what to do. Then they heard a loud and terrible sound like thunder, and before any of them could think to wonder what it was, the entire city was destroyed in a kinetic explosion as powerful as the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima.
The colonists would never know the fate of those they had left behind.
---
May 9, 2089
Budi sat on the floor, huddled together with his fellow captives. He was exhausted. It was hard to sleep when your ears were bombarded by the shrieks and sobs of people being assaulted by batarians in the night. It was the sort of noise you couldn't just tune out. Budi's ear throbbed where a batarian had punched him yesterday, but he counted his blessings. At least all he had to deal with was a beating. His female counterparts were not so lucky. He was just glad none of the batarians had seemed interested in men.
The one thing Budi wasn't was hungry. The batarians distributed food regularly in the form of what seemed to be some sort of military rations. Doctors regularly went through the crowds, examining them for disease. It wasn't out of the kindness of their heart, they just didn't want to waste any of the merchandise.
Budi remembered seeing stories of human traffickers and the UN's seemingly eternal war against the industry. Yet, it seemed for every trafficker brought to justice by the Rangers, another two took its place.
Now we're fighting an entire civilization of traffickers.
In what had become a much more frequent occurrence in the past few days, Budi cried.
---
May 11, 2089
Budi was woken out of his attempt at a nap by what felt like turbulence. Have we finally arrived at our destination?
On the one hand, the thought of getting off the damn ship was a very appealing one to Budi. On the other hand, his knowledge of the fate that was awaiting him filled him with fear. The turbulence stopped, and batarians filled the room, kicking at the captives and gesturing for them to stand up. They were herded to the front of the cargo bay they had been held in, and then the massive doors opened.
As a wave of freezing air hit the crowd, Budi was glad that he had been wearing a coat when he'd been captured. It wasn't as cold as Tuhan, but that wasn't a difficult criteria to meet.
The crowd was herded out of the ship by the batarian guards, and into a fenced off area. The terrain of the planet reminded Budi of the images he had seen of the rocky shores of Antarctica on Earth, except that terrain seemed to stretch over the entire planet. All of the captives had been injected with something when they had been first sorted back on Tuhan. The purpose of that injection became clear as they were roughly grabbed by batarians in the fenced off area, who preceded to scan the injection sight. It was some kind of way to identify a slaves information at a glance, Budi suspected, because he was herded off into a group with a few people that he recognized as fellow electricians from the colony.
He and his fellow electricians were taken to a huge warehouse-like building. Budi saw people of all sorts in the building, mainly aliens of the various species he had heard about on the news. He couldn't help but gawk at them, and he was pretty sure a few of them were gawking right back, particularly those strange blue ones. Asarai? Asri? He couldn't remember.
The building had heaters scattered throughout the floor. With his coat on, it was becoming uncomfortably warm. So much so that Budi was almost glad when the guards gruffly ordered the assembled captives to remove all of their clothing. Budi had learned quickly on the ride hear that protesting would only lead to beatings, and then the order would be carried out anyway. Best to just get it over with. Most of the other captives had apparently gotten a similar memo, as they hurried to comply just like him.
One of the aliens, a "turian" he was pretty sure it was called, loudly protested in an incomprehensible language at the order. The guards dragged him from the crowd and began to savagely beat him. They were still beating him when Budi hurried to stand in a line with the other nude captives.
There was some sort of office that they were apparently standing in line to go into. Budi could hear screams coming from within, and an icy cold hand of fear seized his heart. None of the captives talked to each other in line. They had all learned very quickly and very painfully on the trip here that captives were not permitted to speak to each other.
When Budi's turn came in the line, he was shaking with fear. The guards shoved him into the office. Inside was a batarian dressed in what looked like his culture's equivalent of medical scrubs.
"Lay down on this table." He ordered.
When Budi hesitated, the guards in the room seized him and slammed him down on the table. Budi screamed in fear as they held him down. They jerked his head to the right, as the doctor prepared something. It made Budi struggle more.
"I'd advise you to hold still. Struggling will only make it more painful." the doctor said, sounding bored.
Budi obeyed, reluctantly. Being unable to see what was being done to him was aggravating. He tensed up, and felt the doctor press something against the back of his head. Then, without warning, he activated it.
For a moment, Budi wasn't there. He physically couldn't process the amount of pain he was in. Then it hit him like a bus. He couldn't tell if he screamed. It was like nothing he had ever experienced. The brief moment that the procedure took was an eternity, and for that timespan his entire existence was pain.
---
By the time he had regained his sense, the pain having receded from unbearable to merely agonizing, he was surprised to find himself sitting on the ground in another fenced off area, surrounded by other slaves. Then, the cold hit him, and he began to shiver. He glanced at the people around him. None of them were human. He saw a turian male. He was barely moving, not able to handle cold the way the other beings could. To his surprise, there were a few batarians with him, and for the first time he saw a batarian female. She was nude, like the rest of them. He couldn't help but glance at her along with the others, comparing her to the males beside her, and the females of his own species. Not that he had much experience in that department.
In terms of anatomy, she was very similar to a human woman (minus the face). The biggest difference was her skin, which had an alien texture to it, and had strange ridges of a sort on some of her joints. In comparison to her male counterparts, her face and head were smoother, lacking the protrusions and crests of a male, other than a long straight crest starting on her forehead and ending somewhere on the top of her head. Like the male, she was bald and had four eyes, and she seemed to be a little bulkier than an asari or human woman, although that could just be this individual and not indicative of batarian females as a whole.
Budi didn't get to observe his fellows for long, as the group of them was taken away by guards soon enough.
The group was brought to some kind of gathering area. As he grew closer, it became clear to Budi that this was some kind of slave market, and the group that had led them away had purchased them for resale. He and the other slaves were made to stand in front of a shop on a small elevated platform, on display. Nearby heaters kept them from freezing to death in the cold.
A batarian with a heavily scarred face approached at the head of a small group and eyed them all, until his eyes fell upon the female from earlier. He leered at her with an unbreaking gaze for several long moments. She didn't meet his eyes. When he and his group led her away, Budi was pretty sure she wasn't just shivering from the cold.
One by one, buyers came in and made off with the merchandise, until only Budi remained. He wasn't sure if that was a bad thing, but the angry looks his apparent owner kept giving him didn't fill him with hope.
Eventually, an elderly batarian male approached, eyeing him up and down, reading the floating sign next to him listing his skills. He seemed to contemplate the purchase before walking off. On his way out, he spotted a sign and stopped to read it. He then turned back in towards the shop and spoke with the owner. He turned to the human, and spoke through his Omni tool.
"I don't need another electrician, but they say all proceeds go to the war effort, and I'll always back a good cause."
Budi didn't react. Or, at least, he tried not to.
The elder payed the owner through his credit chit, and then owner handed him a device. The elder turned to Budi and pressed a button.
Budi had thought he had experienced the worst pain of his life in the doctor's office before, but only a few hours later he was proven wrong. Every neuron in his body screamed in anguish as he collapsed in a heap. Then, just as suddenly, it stopped. He barely heard the elder speaking to him.
"Had to make sure everything's in working order."
---
Weeks later
Budi had been surprised to be taken back into space once again. As it turned out, his new master was the owner of a small asteroid mining operation, and Budi was immediately put to work under a turian woman by the name of Rira. If she had been surprised at meeting an alien from a brand new species, it didn't show on her face. All that was there was a blank, utterly vacant expression.
Over the weeks, Budi worked harder than he ever had under the turian. He woke at six in the morning and got off at eight in the evening. He barely had time to think, all he could do was mindlessly work, his entire life was work.
At night, before exhaustion claimed him, he was besieged by images of the years, the decades that lay ahead of him. It was enough to make him despair. On one particularly dark night, he contemplated just getting it over with, skipping the decades of misery. The only thing that made him hold on was the memory of his parents. His mother, lost. His father, almost certainly dead, having died to give him a chance to live.
He recalled again when he had watched the Rangers on the news, bringing down human trafficking rings. The tearfully grateful rescued victims embracing the rangers as they handed out water and food. It gave him the most dangerous feeling of all: Hope. It was absurd, of course. There was no cavalry coming to rescue him, no light at the end of the tunnel.
But, that hope was all he had.
---
Hey all, sorry if this was depressing. I just really wanted to establish what kind of enemy the humans are facing in this story, and explore what the reality of the "Evil, Slaving Batarians" trope in Mass Effect might look like. In the real world, we all hear about terrible things going on in the world, but it's difficult to wrap our head around something on a macro scale. It's the smaller, human stories that make us truly understand how terrible something can really be. Or, at least, that's what I was going for.
As always, thank you for reading and please share your thoughts in the comments.
---
May 5, 2089
An icy planet soared through the void. It's atmosphere was breathable, which suggested some sort of oxygen excreting microbe must have existed here at some point, but that was long in the past, perhaps in a warmer time. The only things that lived here now were extremophile microbes, and the ever-stubborn species known as homo sapiens, who, in their eternal quest to name inanimate objects, had dubbed the world "Tahun". It was a fairly small colony, no more than 80,000 people, but it was growing rapidly.
When the miserable ice cube of a planet had been discovered 16 years ago no one thought it of any value. It would be cheaper to colonize Antarctica, and the weather would be nicer there, too. The vast amount of hydrocarbons beneath its surface might have been of value for the polymers and plastics industry, but Jupiter's moon Titan had entire seas of the stuff, and was much closer to home, which is why it dominated the polymers industry.
However, a collection of manufacturing startups had been looking to cut into the markets in the frontier colonies, where they wouldn't have to deal with the relentless competition on Earth. They hatched a hare-brained scheme: they'd use the hydrocarbons of the planet as a cheap power source for factories and light industry, producing products which they could sell to the colonies on the fringe of civilization, and at a reduced price thanks to the cheaper transport cost. The best part of all: the emissions of the hydrocarbon powerplants, which would've cause problems on Earth, could be a boon on Tahun.
Climate Change, the very phenomenon which had caused so much trouble decades ago could now be harnessed as a sort of poor man's terraforming. The companies pitched it to prospective colonists: steady work and steady pay, and you get to see your grandchildren grow up on a world you helped to warm!
They didn't get any takers.
So, they instead went to the poorer regions of Earth, and recruited prospective colonists who couldn't afford to get on a ship to one of the good planets. While the overall standard of living for most humans was higher than it had ever been, the wealth disparity between the former "first" and "third" worlds was still noticeable. Most of the colonists had come from South East Asia, primarily Indonesia and Malaysia, though there were also some Vietnamese, Thai, and the odd Chinese who came along too.
Sixteen years later, and the planet had, in fact, warmed. By a fraction of a degree. As it turned out, the carbon output of a single small city was not really comparable to the carbon output of an entire civilization running on fossil fuels. In time, however, this would change. While the comparison of their tropical motherlands to the ice cube they now called home was not a flattering one, it had still grown on some of them. Especially the children born there. They had begun to settle in, finding satisfaction in their new lives.
---
In the void between the planets orbiting Tahun's star, a flotilla of batarian ships burned on an intercept course with the icy world.
The batarians had run into a roadblock in their incursion into human space: they didn't know where anything was. The UN had been fiercely protecting the location of Earth and her colonies, and the batarians had essentially zero intel to go off of. What made matters worse was the region where human space resided seemed to have the lowest density of Mass Relays in the explored galaxy. The lack of relays was probably a logistical headache in peacetime, but in a war such as this one, it was a "geographic" advantage. This meant that finding any human settlements to attack had proven something of a challenge, as each individual star system had to be explored using conventional FTL, which took time.
The Batarian Expeditionary Fleet had over 2000 ships, more than enough to thoroughly explore human space. Or at least, it should have been. While the humans had yet to reveal a large fleet, individual ships and pairs of ships would inevitable fall upon any lone frigate or cruiser exploring an uncharted star system. All of these factors combined together to make progress very slow for the BEF. When a settlement or piece of infrastructure was discovered, a raid fleet was dispatched from the main formation to raze the settlement and seize captives.
The human settlements discovered thus far were of minimal strategic value. They lacked meaningful infrastructure or resource extraction facilities. For the most part, it was more profitable in the long run to just sack the settlements and drag the population away in chains. The flotilla heading for Tahun was here to do just that. Lead by a Heavy cruiser, escorted by four light cruisers and a dozen frigates, the flotilla easily swatted the pitiful excuses for orbital defenses aside.
Captain Arnolak observed the scout reports on the planet below with disinterest. This would not be a challenge. The colony was made up of only a single city, sitting in a valley between glaciers.
"Land our troops. Let's get this over with." he ordered.
---
Within Tahun City, the Tahun Defense Force was fully mobilized and awaiting enemy attack. Their detection grid had picked up the incoming batarian fleet hours ago, and the population had been herded into the emergency shelters while the Defense Force troopers suited up. Their gear was the same as any other light infantry in human space: a full face helmet, chest armor, gauntlets, shin guards, and knee and elbow pads, all worn over a flak-resistant jumpsuit, dyed mottled white in their case. The TDF troopers also wore a hooded white over coat over their gear, the same mottled white color as their jumpsuit. It was more for camouflage than for warmth, as their suits were designed for temperature regulation and heat-retention.
The UN was still scrambling to reinforce the colonial garrisons with troops from the nations of Earth, but moving such vast amounts of troops, and their equipment, and their supplies, through space to humanity's scattered colonies on such short notice had proven to be a logistical nightmare. No reinforcements had reached fringe colonies like Tahun yet, but the UN had been able to ship automated weapons systems to upgrade their defense grid. It was better than nothing.
The batarians had attempted an aerial attack on the city, and had been unpleasantly surprised when an array of autoguns and SAM sites had opened up on them. As their dropships unloaded troops, a frigate hovered in the background, preparing to provide sturdier (albeit less precise) air support to the advancing troops.
The troops made their way into the city, clearing buildings with quick, clean sweeps. These were no pirates or mercs, these were warrior caste men. Professionals. The TDF troopers were dug in inside bunkers, pillboxes, and tunnels. The batarian troops methodically cleared the TDF out of every fortification with a professional efficiency. Their kinetic barriers gave them advantage over the barrier-less humans, and each skirmish was a forgone conclusion, though the TDF resisted viscously, often dying to a man. When a particularly stubborn fortification or automated weapon was encountered, the hovering frigate would move in and pound it with its secondary cannons.
The TDF fought back desperately, but the outcome had never been in doubt.
---
Budi clutched his knees closer to his chest as another vibration was felt in the civilian shelter. Fear gripped his heart as he thought about his father, out fighting with the other TDF troopers, and his mother, who he had lost track of in the scramble to get to the shelters. He was 19, old enough to be out there fighting, in his opinion. His father had disagreed, telling him he'd just get in the way of the people who were actually trained for it. Budi hadn't argued too much. In truth, he'd never had the bravado other young man seemed to possess. He was secretly relieved to not be out there. Another vibration, stronger this time, shook the shelter, and reaffirmed this feeling in Budi's mind.
Twenty minutes passed, and the faint echo of gunfire and explosions had died away. Suddenly, hole was burned through the door, and a team of batarian soldiers stormed in.
"Out! Get out of the shelter now!" they screamed in English through their Omni tools. Those in the crowd who understood English moved to obey in fear, with those who didn't understand soon following after them, getting the hint.
There were perhaps a thousand people of all sorts crowded into the civilian bunker, and they scurried out to the front of the bunker, where more batarian soldiers waited. Out of the many other bunkers came thousands more civilians, each of them looking on the batarians with fear. They stood there, shivering in the freezing cold, until a batarian walked up in the center of them. He looked to be an officer of some sort. Behind him, dirty, battered, and bloody TDF troopers were dragged into a line and forced on their knees.
Some of the troopers cried, others clutched at wounds, and others just kneeled there quietly, looking up at the sky. The batarian officer nodded to another batarian, who nodded back and then barked an order. The soldiers gathered behind the POWs opened up with automatic fire. The POWs were quickly dispatched. The crowd looked on and shrieks and gasps of horror were uttered. The batarian who had vocalized the order walked among the bloody remains, firing shots from his pistol into any who were still twitching.
Without any words at all, the officer had sent a clear message: "You've lost."
---
The logistics of being enslaved were surprisingly complex, thought Budi. The batarians had begun gruffly asking them their age, profession, skills, education. It was like a job interview, but with a gun pointed at you. Those with valuable skills were prioritized, being herded into transport ships that had landed at the edge of the city. Budi, being an apprentice electrician himself, had been quickly snatched up by the batarians. Budi found himself on a batarian transport ship, going into space for the first time since he had made the trip to Tahun with his parents at the age of three.
Crammed in the shuttle with the other captives like sardines, Budi wished he had a window to look out of. If only to give his home one last look.
---
Down on the planet, around 10,000 people had been left behind, the batarian slave ships apparently being at their capacity. They were mostly a mix of children, the elderly, and those lacking any useful skills. It was always surprisingly easy to get parents to leave their children behind, as it gave them the hope that their children could escape the fate of slavery, even if they themselves couldn't. Under normal circumstances, they would've probably been right. Unfortunately for those left behind, Captain Arnolak had orders to deny any and all assets to the enemy, particularly economic infrastructure like that in this colony.
He turned to his weapons officer. "You have permission to fire whenever we're ready."
The heavy cruiser took careful aim, and fired its spinal mount once on a carefully calculated trajectory.
In the small colony below, the confused and panicked survivors were trying to collect themselves and figure out what to do. Then they heard a loud and terrible sound like thunder, and before any of them could think to wonder what it was, the entire city was destroyed in a kinetic explosion as powerful as the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima.
The colonists would never know the fate of those they had left behind.
---
May 9, 2089
Budi sat on the floor, huddled together with his fellow captives. He was exhausted. It was hard to sleep when your ears were bombarded by the shrieks and sobs of people being assaulted by batarians in the night. It was the sort of noise you couldn't just tune out. Budi's ear throbbed where a batarian had punched him yesterday, but he counted his blessings. At least all he had to deal with was a beating. His female counterparts were not so lucky. He was just glad none of the batarians had seemed interested in men.
The one thing Budi wasn't was hungry. The batarians distributed food regularly in the form of what seemed to be some sort of military rations. Doctors regularly went through the crowds, examining them for disease. It wasn't out of the kindness of their heart, they just didn't want to waste any of the merchandise.
Budi remembered seeing stories of human traffickers and the UN's seemingly eternal war against the industry. Yet, it seemed for every trafficker brought to justice by the Rangers, another two took its place.
Now we're fighting an entire civilization of traffickers.
In what had become a much more frequent occurrence in the past few days, Budi cried.
---
May 11, 2089
Budi was woken out of his attempt at a nap by what felt like turbulence. Have we finally arrived at our destination?
On the one hand, the thought of getting off the damn ship was a very appealing one to Budi. On the other hand, his knowledge of the fate that was awaiting him filled him with fear. The turbulence stopped, and batarians filled the room, kicking at the captives and gesturing for them to stand up. They were herded to the front of the cargo bay they had been held in, and then the massive doors opened.
As a wave of freezing air hit the crowd, Budi was glad that he had been wearing a coat when he'd been captured. It wasn't as cold as Tuhan, but that wasn't a difficult criteria to meet.
The crowd was herded out of the ship by the batarian guards, and into a fenced off area. The terrain of the planet reminded Budi of the images he had seen of the rocky shores of Antarctica on Earth, except that terrain seemed to stretch over the entire planet. All of the captives had been injected with something when they had been first sorted back on Tuhan. The purpose of that injection became clear as they were roughly grabbed by batarians in the fenced off area, who preceded to scan the injection sight. It was some kind of way to identify a slaves information at a glance, Budi suspected, because he was herded off into a group with a few people that he recognized as fellow electricians from the colony.
He and his fellow electricians were taken to a huge warehouse-like building. Budi saw people of all sorts in the building, mainly aliens of the various species he had heard about on the news. He couldn't help but gawk at them, and he was pretty sure a few of them were gawking right back, particularly those strange blue ones. Asarai? Asri? He couldn't remember.
The building had heaters scattered throughout the floor. With his coat on, it was becoming uncomfortably warm. So much so that Budi was almost glad when the guards gruffly ordered the assembled captives to remove all of their clothing. Budi had learned quickly on the ride hear that protesting would only lead to beatings, and then the order would be carried out anyway. Best to just get it over with. Most of the other captives had apparently gotten a similar memo, as they hurried to comply just like him.
One of the aliens, a "turian" he was pretty sure it was called, loudly protested in an incomprehensible language at the order. The guards dragged him from the crowd and began to savagely beat him. They were still beating him when Budi hurried to stand in a line with the other nude captives.
There was some sort of office that they were apparently standing in line to go into. Budi could hear screams coming from within, and an icy cold hand of fear seized his heart. None of the captives talked to each other in line. They had all learned very quickly and very painfully on the trip here that captives were not permitted to speak to each other.
When Budi's turn came in the line, he was shaking with fear. The guards shoved him into the office. Inside was a batarian dressed in what looked like his culture's equivalent of medical scrubs.
"Lay down on this table." He ordered.
When Budi hesitated, the guards in the room seized him and slammed him down on the table. Budi screamed in fear as they held him down. They jerked his head to the right, as the doctor prepared something. It made Budi struggle more.
"I'd advise you to hold still. Struggling will only make it more painful." the doctor said, sounding bored.
Budi obeyed, reluctantly. Being unable to see what was being done to him was aggravating. He tensed up, and felt the doctor press something against the back of his head. Then, without warning, he activated it.
For a moment, Budi wasn't there. He physically couldn't process the amount of pain he was in. Then it hit him like a bus. He couldn't tell if he screamed. It was like nothing he had ever experienced. The brief moment that the procedure took was an eternity, and for that timespan his entire existence was pain.
---
By the time he had regained his sense, the pain having receded from unbearable to merely agonizing, he was surprised to find himself sitting on the ground in another fenced off area, surrounded by other slaves. Then, the cold hit him, and he began to shiver. He glanced at the people around him. None of them were human. He saw a turian male. He was barely moving, not able to handle cold the way the other beings could. To his surprise, there were a few batarians with him, and for the first time he saw a batarian female. She was nude, like the rest of them. He couldn't help but glance at her along with the others, comparing her to the males beside her, and the females of his own species. Not that he had much experience in that department.
In terms of anatomy, she was very similar to a human woman (minus the face). The biggest difference was her skin, which had an alien texture to it, and had strange ridges of a sort on some of her joints. In comparison to her male counterparts, her face and head were smoother, lacking the protrusions and crests of a male, other than a long straight crest starting on her forehead and ending somewhere on the top of her head. Like the male, she was bald and had four eyes, and she seemed to be a little bulkier than an asari or human woman, although that could just be this individual and not indicative of batarian females as a whole.
Budi didn't get to observe his fellows for long, as the group of them was taken away by guards soon enough.
The group was brought to some kind of gathering area. As he grew closer, it became clear to Budi that this was some kind of slave market, and the group that had led them away had purchased them for resale. He and the other slaves were made to stand in front of a shop on a small elevated platform, on display. Nearby heaters kept them from freezing to death in the cold.
A batarian with a heavily scarred face approached at the head of a small group and eyed them all, until his eyes fell upon the female from earlier. He leered at her with an unbreaking gaze for several long moments. She didn't meet his eyes. When he and his group led her away, Budi was pretty sure she wasn't just shivering from the cold.
One by one, buyers came in and made off with the merchandise, until only Budi remained. He wasn't sure if that was a bad thing, but the angry looks his apparent owner kept giving him didn't fill him with hope.
Eventually, an elderly batarian male approached, eyeing him up and down, reading the floating sign next to him listing his skills. He seemed to contemplate the purchase before walking off. On his way out, he spotted a sign and stopped to read it. He then turned back in towards the shop and spoke with the owner. He turned to the human, and spoke through his Omni tool.
"I don't need another electrician, but they say all proceeds go to the war effort, and I'll always back a good cause."
Budi didn't react. Or, at least, he tried not to.
The elder payed the owner through his credit chit, and then owner handed him a device. The elder turned to Budi and pressed a button.
Budi had thought he had experienced the worst pain of his life in the doctor's office before, but only a few hours later he was proven wrong. Every neuron in his body screamed in anguish as he collapsed in a heap. Then, just as suddenly, it stopped. He barely heard the elder speaking to him.
"Had to make sure everything's in working order."
---
Weeks later
Budi had been surprised to be taken back into space once again. As it turned out, his new master was the owner of a small asteroid mining operation, and Budi was immediately put to work under a turian woman by the name of Rira. If she had been surprised at meeting an alien from a brand new species, it didn't show on her face. All that was there was a blank, utterly vacant expression.
Over the weeks, Budi worked harder than he ever had under the turian. He woke at six in the morning and got off at eight in the evening. He barely had time to think, all he could do was mindlessly work, his entire life was work.
At night, before exhaustion claimed him, he was besieged by images of the years, the decades that lay ahead of him. It was enough to make him despair. On one particularly dark night, he contemplated just getting it over with, skipping the decades of misery. The only thing that made him hold on was the memory of his parents. His mother, lost. His father, almost certainly dead, having died to give him a chance to live.
He recalled again when he had watched the Rangers on the news, bringing down human trafficking rings. The tearfully grateful rescued victims embracing the rangers as they handed out water and food. It gave him the most dangerous feeling of all: Hope. It was absurd, of course. There was no cavalry coming to rescue him, no light at the end of the tunnel.
But, that hope was all he had.
---
Hey all, sorry if this was depressing. I just really wanted to establish what kind of enemy the humans are facing in this story, and explore what the reality of the "Evil, Slaving Batarians" trope in Mass Effect might look like. In the real world, we all hear about terrible things going on in the world, but it's difficult to wrap our head around something on a macro scale. It's the smaller, human stories that make us truly understand how terrible something can really be. Or, at least, that's what I was going for.
As always, thank you for reading and please share your thoughts in the comments.
Last edited:
Neepa
Always pondering story possibilities
- Location
- Germany
You got the slave situation very well down. Was wishing for Batarian Exterminatus by the time I finished reading.
Also quite balanced story so far. No obvious handwaving and forcing situations that I can see.
To add some more depth I would include death numbers for humans and batarians alike semi-frequently.
Also quite balanced story so far. No obvious handwaving and forcing situations that I can see.
To add some more depth I would include death numbers for humans and batarians alike semi-frequently.
Oh shit, thank you for mentioning that!
Arimai
Curmudgeon
@Poached_Egg They like killing human worlds. There is no way in hell the Citadel doesn't know of the atrocities the Batarian State is committing. Let's see what happens when the tables are eventually turned. When the Samson Option is enacted on the Batarians when or if Earth is subjugated.
Last edited:
Rangers
May 20, 2089
Terminus Systems
Captain Galofit listened to the distress signal again, his four eyes unblinking.
"This is the quarian cargo freighter Kellah Fen, requesting assistance from any nearby ships. Our reactor is dead, and we're drifting on emergency power. I say again, this is the quarian-" Galofit cut it off.
Galofit practically salivated at the money he was about to make. Quarians were fragile little things, but they had hard technical knowhow, to an almost universal degree. The ever-hungry machine of the Hegemony economy always payed a premium price for skilled technicians. It was his lucky day.
He barely had to consider before he made his decision. "Plot a course for the signal."
---
The batarian vessel matched the quarian vessel's drift and docked with it. When they pulled up, the quarian response was very muted. Obviously, they'd figured out just who had rescued them. Captain Galofit sent a dozen men aboard, led by his first mate Initet. The batarian officer strolled confidently aboard, his men in toe.
"Last two guard the airlock. Everyone else sweep the ship in teams of two." his men hurried to follow his orders.
The batarian fighters swept through the ship, finding nothing and no one. Initet felt uneasy. Nevertheless, he and his men gathered together to enter the ship's bridge. Inside, they found a trio of quarians waiting to meet them.
"Greetings, I am-" the quarian began.
"Don't care. Where the hell are your crew?" Initet butt in.
"This ship started acting up when we and our flotilla were on the way back to our fleet. We were left behind as a skeleton crew, with the intent to take it to Omega for repairs and make our way home from there, Obviously, that didn't work out for us."
Initet sighed. Not quite the haul they'd been hoping for, but three quarian captives were better than none. He keyed his earpiece com.
"Captain, this is Initet, only three quarians aboard." Initet said. He heard nothing but static in response. He turned to point a finger at the quarian.
"Why are my coms down? The hell are you playing at?" he asked gruffly.
The quarian held up his hands. "As I said, the ship has been acting up lately. Probably some coms array going haywire." A sudden noise in the background made Initet's head snap towards it.
"What was that?" he demanded.
"It sounded like the airlock closing. The inner door's been sticking open and shut lately, real annoying." the quarian said.
Initet ignored him. "Biln, Fetrath, report! I thought I told you to guard the door!" No response. Then, a loud noise, as if the ship was detaching from the airlock. Before he could turn around and demand answers, out of the corner of one of his eyes, Initet saw the quarians fiddling with their omni tools. He whipped around and pointed his rifle at the lead one.
"What were you doing just now?" He kicked himself for not confiscating it sooner. "Give me your Omni tools!"
The quarian raised his hand in another placating gesture. "Alright, alright! We were just activating our magnetic boots, I promise."
Initet was genuinely confused. "Wh-" he didn't get to finish. Every air lock on the Kellah Fen opened, and the batarians were sucked out into space. The quarian trio stood in the same place.
"Well," the lead one said over his suit radio to the others. "that went well."
---
"Initet! Initet, report!" Galofit was concerned when the airlock closed. He got worried when the quarian ship detached. Now, with still not a peep from the dependable Initet, he was afraid. "I want every crewman on this ship armed, on the double." He said in his best "captain's voice". His bridge crew scurried to obey.
"I want fireteams sweeping the ship. We've been boarded." just saying it out loud concerned Galofit. He didn't actually have any proof that there were boarders, but he didn't believe in coincidence. He looked at the quarian freighter on his viewer, and contemplated blowing it up for good measure. Then it activated its engines and burned away at max acceleration.
Galofit stared at it for a moment stupidly, before bellowing "I want us following that ship, now!" His own ship's engines roared to life...and then immediately cut out, accomplishing little more than increasing the speed of his ship's drift.
"Status report!" Galofit ordered.
A nervous bridge officer reported back. "Sir, someone hit the emergency shutoff!"
"Then tell engineering to turn it back on!" Galofit yelled.
"No reply from engineering, sir!" the increasingly nervous officer said.
Galofit closed his eyes, inhaled, exhaled. "I want fire teams sweeping the ship, five men per team, no more, no less. Sweep through the whole damn ship and then converge on engineering." as his orders were relayed, Galofit took another deep breath.
"S-...sir, fireteam 4 has stopped reporting!" the officer cried.
Galofit's eyes snapped open.
Not a good start.
---
Deleton was less than pleased about being a slave. Krogan slaves were a rarity for the Hegemony, and for good reason. Krogan were too tough, too stubborn, and too few in numbers to make good slaves. Krogan also tended to prefer death to the prospect of slavery. Deleton had felt the same way, but the concussion the batarian pyjacks had given him had taken the choice out of his hands.
How they had managed to knock a krogan unconcious with a blunt force was a mystery that still annoyed Deleton, but his fate was sealed. Krogan didn't typically go for suicide, or at least his particular clan and culture didn't, so the best he could hope for was an honorable death when he inevitably attempted some foolhardy revolt against his would-be masters.
Then, the chaos had started. Deleton didn't know what was causing all of the commotion, but he knew that the batarians had reduced the guard count on the slaves thanks to it. Idiots. He was no spring chicken, but he could still handle two guards. Although his odds for coming out of it without some serious (even by krogan standards) wounds weren't good. He bided his time, thinking over his strategy.
He didn't have much time to think, because one of the doors to the slave hold slid open.
Both of the guards snapped towards the door and opened fire...at nothing. Before their confusion could register, the second door opened and a figure stepped through. Deleton gave it a good look. Seemed like an asari commando to him, although that hardsuit looked like something out of a historical drama.
The commando blew the brains out of the first batarian, and wheeled quickly to the next, but the wily bastard was quicker than he looked, and smacked her rifle aside. The batarian headbutted the asari and went to put a bullet in her.
Not today, buddy. Deleton thought as he hit the batarian like a sky bus. The batarian flew across the (admittedly small) room and slammed against the bulkhead, to the gasps and screams of the other terrified captives. When the batarian groggily reached for his weapon, a bullet splattered his brains against the bulkhead, fired by the asari.
"Not bad-woah!" the asari said, quickly backing up and craning her neck to look at the enormous krogan. Deleton didn't react, but spoke. "So...who are you?" the krogan asked.
"Senior Ranger Maja Kucharski, United Nations Rangers." the asari replied back automatically.
"Uh-huh. So...what the hell are the United Nations Rangers? Some kind of special regiment from one of your asari republics?" Deleton asked, still blank faced.
"Oh, you think I'm an asari! I'm flattered, but..." the asari took off her helmet, and revealed...a very weird-looking asari.
"Ugh...the Chief'll kill me for taking my helmet off in a combat zone, but 'hearts and minds' or whatever." the creature groaned.
"So, you're not an asari then?" Deleton asked, undeterred.
"Do I look blue to you? I'm a human. We're...uh, 'new'." The woman said back, amused.
"Right, right. These...'rangers' of yours...are you hiring?" Deleton asked.
---
Galofit was on the verge of despair. Every fireteam had gone dark, one after the other, and now they were coming to his bridge. They had to be.
He looked to his handful of remaining crew, his bridge officers. They were terrified. He had to inspire them!
"Men, while we may no longer be in Hegemony space, we are still batarian. And batarians never give in. We will hold this door, or die trying. It's been an honor, gentlemen." He turned to face the door, weapon in hand, his heartened crew behind him. This would be a gl-The door slammed open and everyone in the room holding a weapon had their blood and brains splattered all over the computer consoles.
"Clear!" called the lead intruder.
"Damn, we're gonna need to bleach the whole damn ship again..." said the man to his right.
"Sir, I got a live one!" called the woman to his left. She held the sniveling, blood-drenched form of the bridge officer, who had had the sense to throw down his weapon and cower behind something.
"On the ground, hands behind your back!" the woman ordered through a second-hand quarian omni-tool. The batarian gave no resistance.
The lead ranger walked up to the least blood-drenched computer console and keyed it. "Endil, you're clear."
A quarian voice came from the other end. "Good to hear! That's the third one this month. They never fail to fall for the 'helpless quarian' trick. Idiots."
The leader turned the com off and looked to the man beside him. "He's right. We've been making good progress."
The other man shrugged. "I do wonder how many of these we'll actually even need, though."
It was the leader's turn to shrug. "I don't. It all goes to Spartacus either way."
---
Ranger School, Earth
Mikhail Petrov looked at the assembled Ranger graduates with pride. Not even twenty-five years ago, his rangers had been a pipe dream. Even when he'd got the funding cleared, he still had to struggle and fight with the brass and the politicians. They didn't want what he was making for them. They wanted special forces. Black-Ops operators. Wetwork. Always wetwork.
But Mikhail had had a dream, a vision for his beloved rangers. He had constructed his training regimen with an almost obsessive attention to detail. He had vetted his instructors ruthlessly, but not for the combat prowess. There was no shortage of grizzled old operators from days past (Mikhail himself was one, after all). What Mikhail wanted were likeminded individuals. Individuals who would share his vision.
He had assembled all of humanity's finest killers, from every organization, both official and unofficial, in the world. Former Navy SEALs and Delta Force Operators worked with old Spetznaz men and former PLA special forces. Ghurkhas and SAS men. Commandoes, black-ops assassins, and every manner of expert killer had gathered together under a single purpose: to train the first generation of international special forces.
What his men knew (and his superiors were less than clear on) was that mere combat prowess was not what Mikhail sought (though he still drilled his rangers relentlessly on it). Any fool can kill, but knowing when and why to kill were something else entirely. What Mikhail drilled into his rangers, and what his superiors were constantly harassing him about, was that he wasn't training killers.
He was training heroes.
Every single ranger that made it through the grueling year of training under Mikhail and his ghosts of the past was a hero. Mikhail didn't just want them to be as good as the special forces of old. He wanted them to be better.
The difference between his rangers and the countless other special operators throughout history was that they didn't serve any one government or ideology or culture. They would not be sent away to kill their fellow man for dubious reasons in questionable wars and then be cast aside when the reality of what they were finally broke their psyche.
Every ranger that exited Mikhail's academy understood that they had to be different. While rangers swore an oath of service to the UN when they initially signed on to the Space Force, those who graduate from Ranger School swear another oath of service. One not to any government, but to humanity itself. They vowed to uphold the law, to protect the innocent, to adhere to the rules of war, to defend the basic rights of all sapients.
It was ridiculously naïve. Or, at least, that's what Mikhail's superiors in the UN were always saying to him.
"What if their orders conflict with their oaths?" they always asked.
"Then don't give them unlawful orders." Mikhail would always reply, without fail.
In truth, even Mikhail suspected he was an idealistic fool, especially in the early years. Then his rangers had proved him wrong. Time and again, they selflessly charged into the fire to save their fellow man, and to bring lawbreakers to justice. With every cargo hold full of children rescued from traffickers, every pirate and bandit slain, every life saved, the reputation of his rangers grew.
Soon the propaganda value of the rangers being seen as steadfast warriors for justice taught by the greatest soldiers of the past outweighed their potential usefulness as black-ops and wetwork operators. Mikhail had no doubt that the UN still maintained such operatives, but he cared little. His rangers were pure, of heart and mind. They would throw themselves into the line of fire for humanity, again and again.
As he looked out over his newly minted rangers, Mikhail couldn't help the wave of dread that came over him as he thought of the war. The losses alone might break him. Every ranger body bag brought back to the cemetery outside the school had felt like a physical blow to Mikhail. With the war on, there would be more body bags than ever before. Mikhail knew he could bear that. If only just.
What he couldn't bear, however, was what dwelled in the thoughts that wormed their way into his mind whenever he let his guard down:
In this war, against such a terrible foe, how long could the honor and integrity of his rangers last?
---
Hey all, shorter chapter to set up the next arc in the narrative. Those of you who've been waiting for a strike back against the batarians will get your chance next time around. That chapter was already looking like it was going to be pretty damn hefty, so I chopped off this piece of writing that I really wanted to write, but wasn't very important to the actual plot of the next chapter itself. Done in the interest of story flow and getting a chapter out in case it takes me too long to write the next one.
As always, thank you for reading and please leave your thoughts in the comments!
Terminus Systems
Captain Galofit listened to the distress signal again, his four eyes unblinking.
"This is the quarian cargo freighter Kellah Fen, requesting assistance from any nearby ships. Our reactor is dead, and we're drifting on emergency power. I say again, this is the quarian-" Galofit cut it off.
Galofit practically salivated at the money he was about to make. Quarians were fragile little things, but they had hard technical knowhow, to an almost universal degree. The ever-hungry machine of the Hegemony economy always payed a premium price for skilled technicians. It was his lucky day.
He barely had to consider before he made his decision. "Plot a course for the signal."
---
The batarian vessel matched the quarian vessel's drift and docked with it. When they pulled up, the quarian response was very muted. Obviously, they'd figured out just who had rescued them. Captain Galofit sent a dozen men aboard, led by his first mate Initet. The batarian officer strolled confidently aboard, his men in toe.
"Last two guard the airlock. Everyone else sweep the ship in teams of two." his men hurried to follow his orders.
The batarian fighters swept through the ship, finding nothing and no one. Initet felt uneasy. Nevertheless, he and his men gathered together to enter the ship's bridge. Inside, they found a trio of quarians waiting to meet them.
"Greetings, I am-" the quarian began.
"Don't care. Where the hell are your crew?" Initet butt in.
"This ship started acting up when we and our flotilla were on the way back to our fleet. We were left behind as a skeleton crew, with the intent to take it to Omega for repairs and make our way home from there, Obviously, that didn't work out for us."
Initet sighed. Not quite the haul they'd been hoping for, but three quarian captives were better than none. He keyed his earpiece com.
"Captain, this is Initet, only three quarians aboard." Initet said. He heard nothing but static in response. He turned to point a finger at the quarian.
"Why are my coms down? The hell are you playing at?" he asked gruffly.
The quarian held up his hands. "As I said, the ship has been acting up lately. Probably some coms array going haywire." A sudden noise in the background made Initet's head snap towards it.
"What was that?" he demanded.
"It sounded like the airlock closing. The inner door's been sticking open and shut lately, real annoying." the quarian said.
Initet ignored him. "Biln, Fetrath, report! I thought I told you to guard the door!" No response. Then, a loud noise, as if the ship was detaching from the airlock. Before he could turn around and demand answers, out of the corner of one of his eyes, Initet saw the quarians fiddling with their omni tools. He whipped around and pointed his rifle at the lead one.
"What were you doing just now?" He kicked himself for not confiscating it sooner. "Give me your Omni tools!"
The quarian raised his hand in another placating gesture. "Alright, alright! We were just activating our magnetic boots, I promise."
Initet was genuinely confused. "Wh-" he didn't get to finish. Every air lock on the Kellah Fen opened, and the batarians were sucked out into space. The quarian trio stood in the same place.
"Well," the lead one said over his suit radio to the others. "that went well."
---
"Initet! Initet, report!" Galofit was concerned when the airlock closed. He got worried when the quarian ship detached. Now, with still not a peep from the dependable Initet, he was afraid. "I want every crewman on this ship armed, on the double." He said in his best "captain's voice". His bridge crew scurried to obey.
"I want fireteams sweeping the ship. We've been boarded." just saying it out loud concerned Galofit. He didn't actually have any proof that there were boarders, but he didn't believe in coincidence. He looked at the quarian freighter on his viewer, and contemplated blowing it up for good measure. Then it activated its engines and burned away at max acceleration.
Galofit stared at it for a moment stupidly, before bellowing "I want us following that ship, now!" His own ship's engines roared to life...and then immediately cut out, accomplishing little more than increasing the speed of his ship's drift.
"Status report!" Galofit ordered.
A nervous bridge officer reported back. "Sir, someone hit the emergency shutoff!"
"Then tell engineering to turn it back on!" Galofit yelled.
"No reply from engineering, sir!" the increasingly nervous officer said.
Galofit closed his eyes, inhaled, exhaled. "I want fire teams sweeping the ship, five men per team, no more, no less. Sweep through the whole damn ship and then converge on engineering." as his orders were relayed, Galofit took another deep breath.
"S-...sir, fireteam 4 has stopped reporting!" the officer cried.
Galofit's eyes snapped open.
Not a good start.
---
Deleton was less than pleased about being a slave. Krogan slaves were a rarity for the Hegemony, and for good reason. Krogan were too tough, too stubborn, and too few in numbers to make good slaves. Krogan also tended to prefer death to the prospect of slavery. Deleton had felt the same way, but the concussion the batarian pyjacks had given him had taken the choice out of his hands.
How they had managed to knock a krogan unconcious with a blunt force was a mystery that still annoyed Deleton, but his fate was sealed. Krogan didn't typically go for suicide, or at least his particular clan and culture didn't, so the best he could hope for was an honorable death when he inevitably attempted some foolhardy revolt against his would-be masters.
Then, the chaos had started. Deleton didn't know what was causing all of the commotion, but he knew that the batarians had reduced the guard count on the slaves thanks to it. Idiots. He was no spring chicken, but he could still handle two guards. Although his odds for coming out of it without some serious (even by krogan standards) wounds weren't good. He bided his time, thinking over his strategy.
He didn't have much time to think, because one of the doors to the slave hold slid open.
Both of the guards snapped towards the door and opened fire...at nothing. Before their confusion could register, the second door opened and a figure stepped through. Deleton gave it a good look. Seemed like an asari commando to him, although that hardsuit looked like something out of a historical drama.
The commando blew the brains out of the first batarian, and wheeled quickly to the next, but the wily bastard was quicker than he looked, and smacked her rifle aside. The batarian headbutted the asari and went to put a bullet in her.
Not today, buddy. Deleton thought as he hit the batarian like a sky bus. The batarian flew across the (admittedly small) room and slammed against the bulkhead, to the gasps and screams of the other terrified captives. When the batarian groggily reached for his weapon, a bullet splattered his brains against the bulkhead, fired by the asari.
"Not bad-woah!" the asari said, quickly backing up and craning her neck to look at the enormous krogan. Deleton didn't react, but spoke. "So...who are you?" the krogan asked.
"Senior Ranger Maja Kucharski, United Nations Rangers." the asari replied back automatically.
"Uh-huh. So...what the hell are the United Nations Rangers? Some kind of special regiment from one of your asari republics?" Deleton asked, still blank faced.
"Oh, you think I'm an asari! I'm flattered, but..." the asari took off her helmet, and revealed...a very weird-looking asari.
"Ugh...the Chief'll kill me for taking my helmet off in a combat zone, but 'hearts and minds' or whatever." the creature groaned.
"So, you're not an asari then?" Deleton asked, undeterred.
"Do I look blue to you? I'm a human. We're...uh, 'new'." The woman said back, amused.
"Right, right. These...'rangers' of yours...are you hiring?" Deleton asked.
---
Galofit was on the verge of despair. Every fireteam had gone dark, one after the other, and now they were coming to his bridge. They had to be.
He looked to his handful of remaining crew, his bridge officers. They were terrified. He had to inspire them!
"Men, while we may no longer be in Hegemony space, we are still batarian. And batarians never give in. We will hold this door, or die trying. It's been an honor, gentlemen." He turned to face the door, weapon in hand, his heartened crew behind him. This would be a gl-The door slammed open and everyone in the room holding a weapon had their blood and brains splattered all over the computer consoles.
"Clear!" called the lead intruder.
"Damn, we're gonna need to bleach the whole damn ship again..." said the man to his right.
"Sir, I got a live one!" called the woman to his left. She held the sniveling, blood-drenched form of the bridge officer, who had had the sense to throw down his weapon and cower behind something.
"On the ground, hands behind your back!" the woman ordered through a second-hand quarian omni-tool. The batarian gave no resistance.
The lead ranger walked up to the least blood-drenched computer console and keyed it. "Endil, you're clear."
A quarian voice came from the other end. "Good to hear! That's the third one this month. They never fail to fall for the 'helpless quarian' trick. Idiots."
The leader turned the com off and looked to the man beside him. "He's right. We've been making good progress."
The other man shrugged. "I do wonder how many of these we'll actually even need, though."
It was the leader's turn to shrug. "I don't. It all goes to Spartacus either way."
---
Ranger School, Earth
Mikhail Petrov looked at the assembled Ranger graduates with pride. Not even twenty-five years ago, his rangers had been a pipe dream. Even when he'd got the funding cleared, he still had to struggle and fight with the brass and the politicians. They didn't want what he was making for them. They wanted special forces. Black-Ops operators. Wetwork. Always wetwork.
But Mikhail had had a dream, a vision for his beloved rangers. He had constructed his training regimen with an almost obsessive attention to detail. He had vetted his instructors ruthlessly, but not for the combat prowess. There was no shortage of grizzled old operators from days past (Mikhail himself was one, after all). What Mikhail wanted were likeminded individuals. Individuals who would share his vision.
He had assembled all of humanity's finest killers, from every organization, both official and unofficial, in the world. Former Navy SEALs and Delta Force Operators worked with old Spetznaz men and former PLA special forces. Ghurkhas and SAS men. Commandoes, black-ops assassins, and every manner of expert killer had gathered together under a single purpose: to train the first generation of international special forces.
What his men knew (and his superiors were less than clear on) was that mere combat prowess was not what Mikhail sought (though he still drilled his rangers relentlessly on it). Any fool can kill, but knowing when and why to kill were something else entirely. What Mikhail drilled into his rangers, and what his superiors were constantly harassing him about, was that he wasn't training killers.
He was training heroes.
Every single ranger that made it through the grueling year of training under Mikhail and his ghosts of the past was a hero. Mikhail didn't just want them to be as good as the special forces of old. He wanted them to be better.
The difference between his rangers and the countless other special operators throughout history was that they didn't serve any one government or ideology or culture. They would not be sent away to kill their fellow man for dubious reasons in questionable wars and then be cast aside when the reality of what they were finally broke their psyche.
Every ranger that exited Mikhail's academy understood that they had to be different. While rangers swore an oath of service to the UN when they initially signed on to the Space Force, those who graduate from Ranger School swear another oath of service. One not to any government, but to humanity itself. They vowed to uphold the law, to protect the innocent, to adhere to the rules of war, to defend the basic rights of all sapients.
It was ridiculously naïve. Or, at least, that's what Mikhail's superiors in the UN were always saying to him.
"What if their orders conflict with their oaths?" they always asked.
"Then don't give them unlawful orders." Mikhail would always reply, without fail.
In truth, even Mikhail suspected he was an idealistic fool, especially in the early years. Then his rangers had proved him wrong. Time and again, they selflessly charged into the fire to save their fellow man, and to bring lawbreakers to justice. With every cargo hold full of children rescued from traffickers, every pirate and bandit slain, every life saved, the reputation of his rangers grew.
Soon the propaganda value of the rangers being seen as steadfast warriors for justice taught by the greatest soldiers of the past outweighed their potential usefulness as black-ops and wetwork operators. Mikhail had no doubt that the UN still maintained such operatives, but he cared little. His rangers were pure, of heart and mind. They would throw themselves into the line of fire for humanity, again and again.
As he looked out over his newly minted rangers, Mikhail couldn't help the wave of dread that came over him as he thought of the war. The losses alone might break him. Every ranger body bag brought back to the cemetery outside the school had felt like a physical blow to Mikhail. With the war on, there would be more body bags than ever before. Mikhail knew he could bear that. If only just.
What he couldn't bear, however, was what dwelled in the thoughts that wormed their way into his mind whenever he let his guard down:
In this war, against such a terrible foe, how long could the honor and integrity of his rangers last?
---
Hey all, shorter chapter to set up the next arc in the narrative. Those of you who've been waiting for a strike back against the batarians will get your chance next time around. That chapter was already looking like it was going to be pretty damn hefty, so I chopped off this piece of writing that I really wanted to write, but wasn't very important to the actual plot of the next chapter itself. Done in the interest of story flow and getting a chapter out in case it takes me too long to write the next one.
As always, thank you for reading and please leave your thoughts in the comments!
Operation SPARTACUS: History
AN: Once again, I must warn of some relatively heavy content in this chapter. Again, nothing particularly graphic, but if you're sensitive to this kind of thing you've been warned.
---
September 5, 2089
In an empty red dwarf system at the edge of batarian space, a small fleet of human ships emerged. At first glance, it might not appear to be a war fleet, as the majority of its ships are of a civilian model. The centerpiece of the fleet is two enormous human super heavy freighters. The ships themselves are essentially a big flattened hockey puck with engines at the back, with a nearly kilometer long metal framework jutting out from the center of the puck. Normally, that framework would've been loaded with thousands of standard cargo containers, transporting the products of Earth and her colonies throughout human space in bulk.
For this mission, however, the two ships have each been fitted with a pair of enormous pressurized habitat modules, capable of carrying many thousands of people each. Accompanying these massive transports are over a hundred batarian ships of various makes and models. Most are of a civilian model, but a collection of commandeered military ships is also present, lead by a certain light cruiser taken as a prize ship early in the war.
Escorting this fleet are fifty interceptor class vessels. Twenty-five of them are of the Myeongnyang class, the line of ships made a household name by their now famous sister Samar who could be counted amongst the twenty-five Myeongnyang ships present. The other twenty-five interceptors are of the older Lightning class, possessing superior space firepower, but lacking the Myeongnyang's agility within a planetary atmosphere.
This collection of ships has reached the end of a months long journey. It began at a relay system just outside of the border between batarian space and the unsettled Skyllian Verge. Were they a normal convoy of ships, they would have taken the next relay in the chain and found themselves in Hegemony space within a few hours at most. However, the other side of that relay is heavily guarded, just like all of the border relays in Hegemony space. To attempt their journey through a relay would be suicide. So, they took the long way around.
Using conventional FTL, and a lot of disposable extra fuel tanks, the fleet made it's long trip through the gap between Hegemony space and the Verge. Their intel on batarian space, scavenged from captured batarian nav computers, outdated Council records, and the rare public release from the Hegemony, was spotty to say the least. The frontier worlds of the Hegemony were a well mapped section, but information on the core colonies of the Hegemony and Khar'shan itself was carefully controlled by the Hegemony government. Even when the batarians had been part of Council space they had jealously guarded the information on their territory.
However, the information the fleet did have would serve their needs well enough. An attack on the core worlds of the Hegemony would be suicide. While damaging the batarian economy would help the war effort, it was a secondary objective. The real objective of the mission is far more basic: people. Specifically slaves. The overall operational goal is simple: rescue as many educated, skilled slaves as possible, steal anything useful (and destroy what can't be stolen), and have the various disparate elements of the fleet steadily make their way through the Hegemony's frontier to a predetermined rendezvous point. Once the fleet has regrouped, it will break out of batarian space through a "back door" relay into the terminus systems. From there they make their way home, hopefully laden with highly qualified (and grateful) slaves who can contribute to the war effort. It was all made possible thanks to the generous (and highly secret) contribution of the Quarians, who had shown humanity all of the various trails their more primitive ships left behind and how to mask them.
With the arrival to the predetermined entry point into Hegemony space, the core fleet moves along its planned route, with small detachments breaking off and making their way towards secondary objectives.
Operation: SPARTACUS could finally begin.
---
September 7, 2089
The slave awoke next to the lightly snoring form of her master. She exited the bed, and began her usual routine. Unlike most of her past masters her current master didn't eat breakfast, so she need only put a kettle of tea on. Her latest master was a creature of habit. Her stirring would've woken him, like it always did, and by the time he made his way into the kitchen the tea would be done, like it always was.
With the tea on, the slave made her way out the door and headed down the very small streets of the colony-dome. She walked with a slight limp. The same limp she had been walking with for five hundred years. A limp caused by an injury sustained from her capture so very, very long ago.
In that time she had had many masters of varying degrees of quality. Her current master was one of the better ones, largely leaving her to her own devices and not feeling any particular inclination towards violence. Her previous master had been a property broker trying to sell the ownership of the dome-colony. He had included her with the deed to the colony to "sweeten the deal", as it were.
In the early years of her captivity, she'd thought about ending things. On her own terms. The implant made things difficult, but there were ways around its influence. Provided you were determined enough. One night, she'd come close. She'd circumvented the implant, and all she'd had to do was find the will.
But it hadn't been there.
Ironically, as time wore on, the prospect of it became more and more distasteful. To have endured this hell for so very, very long only for it to end like that? It would be a terrible waste of her own perseverance.
That didn't make it any less hard. Routine was what kept her sane, what gave her some control over her life. Which was why when she heard the raid alarm she briefly considered ignoring it and going about her day. Raids were a fact of life outside of the core worlds in Hegemony space.
If it wasn't a rival clan, it was pirates, or some terminus warlord coming back from his adventures to found a new clan and carve out a fiefdom in the homeland. So long as official Hegemony territory was left alone and the violence was restricted to the clans' private forces and not the military, the Hegemony allowed such behavior. Raiding was, after all, an integral part of batarian culture.
The slave had been taken by one of her worst masters in a pirate raid, and her desire to not have that fate inflicted on her once again finally overrode her desire to make lunch, and so she made for her master's home and the shelter there.
---
Senior Chief Ranger Amancio Paulo led his ranger team to its objectives. Overhead, he could see through the dome the distant light of the pair of interceptors the rangers had came in as they destroyed the last of the meagre orbital defenders. The ranger teams had two objectives in this raid: disable the dome's industrial and mining equipment, and rescue high-value slaves for the war effort.
The second half was an objective that didn't sit well with Amancio. It didn't sit well with any ranger that remembered his oath. To rescue some and leave others on the basis of their value to the war effort made the most logical sense, but that didn't mean he didn't still feel like garbage doing it. If the goal was to win the war at any cost, then they'd be better off just cracking the dome open with a k-bomb and killing everyone inside. If that was over the line, then why wasn't condemning people to a lifetime of slavery because they weren't useful enough to be rescued over the line? It was a question that bothered Amancio.
Amancio was glad to be able to focus on the first half of the objective instead. While other teams went for industrial centers and mining equipment, Amancio's team was going for the local administration. Destroying the administrative buildings could halt production too.
There first target was what looked to be the batarian equivalent of the office building, which apparently housed the local bureaucrats that ran the place. Sweeping that place was a piece of cake. All of the armed batarians Amancio and his rangers had encountered thus far in the colony had been thugs and bully-boys, used to beating on implant-crippled slaves, not trading shots with professionals.
The rangers made mincemeat of the batarians that hadn't been smart enough to throw down their weapons, and hog-tied the rest with disposable restraints. They had no interest in prisoners, but the batarians would still need to be prevented from taking further hostile action, and rangers didn't summarily execute POWs for the crime of being inconvenient. They had no qualms about visiting some small measure of the humiliation that these batarians had inflicted on their slaves, however. Hence the hog-tying.
To his surprise (and relief) Amancio didn't find a single slave in the office. Apparently, batarians didn't let slaves do bureaucratic work. A surprisingly merciful policy, in Amancio's paperwork-hating opinion.
The rangers made their way out of the building, destroying anything remotely important looking and leaving their prisoners behind to be discovered by any batarian clean-up crew in the aftermath of the raid. The next target was the governor's mansion.
---
The slave was surprised to encounter her master's corpse upon her return to the mansion. It filled her with little grief, but plenty of fear. He was her only source of protection. With him dead, it was open season on her.
"Ah, I was wondering if you'd find your way back here."
Speak of the devil.
Another batarian strolled out of the living room and into the entryway. The slave recognized him, some middle-manager or bureaucrat always kissing her master's ass. How strange that he'd be the one to end up murdering him.
"I've been waiting for the opportunity to put this old fool out of his misery. I've been poised to take over the colony for months now. All I needed to do was wait for the right moment. This raid was that moment. It is unfortunate that our beloved Governor was killed by those dastardly raiders, wouldn't you agree?" he said with a feral smile.
No point not playing along. "I agree." the slave lied.
The feral smile grew more feral. "I'm so glad to hear it. Now, in addition to inheriting the colony from our late Governor, I'll also inherit his possessions. That means you. I don't like to wait too long to break in a new slave, it gives them too much false hope. It's just needlessly cruel. So what's say the two of us head on down to my so very recently acquired Governor's shelter and keep each other company?"
"Why do they always try to pretend I'm their girlfriend and not their sex slave?" the slave mused aloud, hand to her chin, feigning deep thought. Damn it, why do I always have to run my mouth.
A very familiar and very expected pain came next as her implant was activated and every nerve-ending in her body cried out in terrible anguish. Her entire body buckled as she instantly collapsed to the floor, screaming until her throat was raw. When her senses returned to her, her new master was crouching next to her.
"Why do they always try to pretend they're a real person instead of an unusually intelligent animal?" her new master mused aloud, feigning deep thought himself.
He brought his face right next to hers, her master gracing the slave with his delightful breath as he spoke. "We really have it so easy these days, modern technology is really a marvel. In my ancestors' days, you had to beat a slave for hours to remind them of what they are. Now? It's just a button-click away." The slave's screams nearly blew out her own eardrums as her master furthered her education on the fundamentals of slavery.
She took a little longer to come to this time. When she did, her master was sitting in a chair in front of the door, smiling wide.
"You and I are going to head down into that bunker. By the time I'm done with you I'll hear you beg." he said.
In spite of herself, the slave let out a ragged chuckle.
Her master seemed more amused then annoyed, which probably wasn't a good sign. "And what, may I ask, is so funny?" he asked.
Slowly, painfully, she raised her head up to look at him, still chuckling. "It's...it's just that...you're like the seventh person to say that exact same sentence to me!" She lost herself in another round of chuckles.
He seemed genuinely amused. "Oh? And, these others, did they succeed. Did they make you beg?"
Her chuckling was shifting to full-blown, hysterical, desperate laughter. "Yes. Oh, Goddess, yes. Every time. I bawl like a baby too, every time. And the hilarious part is, it never gets easier!" She exploded in more laughter, her master joining in now.
"Every time is even harder than the first one!" she bellowed, laughing, tears pouring down her face.
Her master smiled again. "Well, I'm glad you can be so philosophical about it."
Then the door exploded and splattered him against the wall.
---
Amancio and his rangers flooded into the room, securing every point with perfectly drilled precision. Only when they'd finished their training-induced reflexive movements did they stop to take the building in.
Ah shit, we made a mess.
He looked over at an asari woman laying on the ground, clutching her face and laughing hysterically. He gave her a brief visual examination for injuries.
Covered in dust, but otherwise fine, by the looks of it. She looks like she's taking the situation well, too, judging by the laughter. I hope.
---
The slave looked at the odd group that had so soundly ended the life of her dearly departed master. They were an odd bunch, a mix of batarians and...asari?
"What are you, some kind of merc group?" She looked at the asari. "Goddess above, never thought I'd see another of my kind that wasn't a slave ever again."
The asari pointed her rifle at the ground, her other hand on her hip. "You're the second person to say that to me, now. This war is turning out to be great for my self-confidence. I haven't felt this attractive in years." She unclasped the seals of her helmet. "However, I am not an asari." She pulled off her helmet to reveal...something that was, indeed, not an asari.
The slave squinted at the creature. It vaguely reminded her of a quarian, from before they'd collectively shot themselves in the foot and got sealed away in those suits. Emphasis on vaguely. The only similarity that would hold up under scrutiny was the creature's hair, a light brown color. Hair exclusive to the head was a trait that only the quarians were known to have until this moment.
Ever tactful, the slave spoke. "The hell are you?" Nailed it.
They all snorted. The batarian at the head of the group who appeared to be the leader spoke. "Like she said, she's not an asari. And, before you ask, no-"
He took off his helmet too. "I'm not a batarian. We're humans. We're...new."
She eyed the group, with their strange, primitive gear that looked straight out of a historical drama. "I believe it. So, how new is 'new', exactly? I've been out of the loop for, oh, five hundred and thirty-seven years, so I'm a little behind."
"We made first contact less than a ye-did you just say you've been a slave for over five hundred years?" Amancio said.
She started chuckling again. "Yup. Isn't it hilarious? I can barely remember how to write my own name, but I can tell you exactly how many years I've been in this shithole of an interstellar civilization." She was laughing again.
Amancio felt ice water flood through his veins as the implications hit him. When the Americas were still almost mythical to the outside world, when Europe squabbled amongst themselves, when the Chinese Empire had still stood strong and Africa remained largely uncolonized, this woman had been captured.
When the slave trade had carried their human cargo around the world, from Arabia, Africa, and Europe to even the new continents across the Atlantic, this woman had already been in chains for an entire human lifetime.
When young men stood in line to massacre each other by the tens of thousands in the war that would end slavery in the United States, when Princess Isabel signed her Golden Law which brought an end to slavery in Amancio's homeland of Brazil and freed his ancestors, when brave people the world over had begun to fight in the court room and on the battlefield in the never-ending war to see that no human had to live in bondage ever again, this woman had been a slave for centuries. With no one to fight for her.
This woman, who was older than modern industrial civilization, had been held in chains for almost as long. And she was but one of the victims. The scale of the atrocity was difficult for Amancio to wrap his head around. So, instead, he asked her a question.
"Well, uh...what is your name?"
---
The slave was a little perplexed. "What?"
"Well, you mentioned you can't write your own name, so I was just wondering what it was." the big alien said.
The slave smiled in amusement. Genuine amusement this time. "Yinlari."
The man smiled back. "Well, Yinlari, do you want to get out of here?"
She smiled again. "Yes. Yes I do." the free woman said.
---
Tim was mildly amused as he saw the flotilla of hijacked batarian ships leave the colony. His rangers had, predictably, taken a liberal interpretation of what constituted "essential for the war effort" in their slave-rescuing efforts. The medium sized freighter-turned-passenger-liner that the Samar and her partner were escorting was not intended to accommodate this many people. Because the rangers were only supposed to rescue high-value personnel, not empty out the slave pens.
They'd probably done almost exactly that, gathering together what slaves they had found and offering them freedom-provided they had the courage to take it. After all, the path of Operation Spartacus was not going to be safe or easy. It would be wrong to try and force someone into it, even for their own good.
He sighed. At least they'd had the sense to..."acquire" extra transport instead of just trying to cram them all into the freighter.
"Ah, well. No plan survives contact with the enemy." he said aloud. Privately, he felt his spirits lift. He hadn't exactly been happy with the rescue plans himself. Still, the flotilla was probably going to be a lot bigger than planned for when they attempted their breakout, since the other ranger raider teams would probably do the exact same thing when they were tasked with rescuing slaves too.
---
Hello all! This was originally going to be a mega chapter depicting the entire Spartacus Operation, but I soon realized that was a bad idea. I ultimately decided that splitting it into more digestible chunks would be better for the story flow, as otherwise there would be a lot of disorienting perspective shifts for a single chapter. Even more so than usual.
You could think of the next few chapters as being part of a story arc. The SPARTACUS arc, if you will.
As always, thank you for reading, and please leave your thoughts in the reviews.
P.S. : Any fellow history nerds who think I screwed up something in the little tirade at the end, I plead mercy. I'm not a historian, just an amateur enthusiast. Any mistakes are not meant as a personal affront.
---
September 5, 2089
In an empty red dwarf system at the edge of batarian space, a small fleet of human ships emerged. At first glance, it might not appear to be a war fleet, as the majority of its ships are of a civilian model. The centerpiece of the fleet is two enormous human super heavy freighters. The ships themselves are essentially a big flattened hockey puck with engines at the back, with a nearly kilometer long metal framework jutting out from the center of the puck. Normally, that framework would've been loaded with thousands of standard cargo containers, transporting the products of Earth and her colonies throughout human space in bulk.
For this mission, however, the two ships have each been fitted with a pair of enormous pressurized habitat modules, capable of carrying many thousands of people each. Accompanying these massive transports are over a hundred batarian ships of various makes and models. Most are of a civilian model, but a collection of commandeered military ships is also present, lead by a certain light cruiser taken as a prize ship early in the war.
Escorting this fleet are fifty interceptor class vessels. Twenty-five of them are of the Myeongnyang class, the line of ships made a household name by their now famous sister Samar who could be counted amongst the twenty-five Myeongnyang ships present. The other twenty-five interceptors are of the older Lightning class, possessing superior space firepower, but lacking the Myeongnyang's agility within a planetary atmosphere.
This collection of ships has reached the end of a months long journey. It began at a relay system just outside of the border between batarian space and the unsettled Skyllian Verge. Were they a normal convoy of ships, they would have taken the next relay in the chain and found themselves in Hegemony space within a few hours at most. However, the other side of that relay is heavily guarded, just like all of the border relays in Hegemony space. To attempt their journey through a relay would be suicide. So, they took the long way around.
Using conventional FTL, and a lot of disposable extra fuel tanks, the fleet made it's long trip through the gap between Hegemony space and the Verge. Their intel on batarian space, scavenged from captured batarian nav computers, outdated Council records, and the rare public release from the Hegemony, was spotty to say the least. The frontier worlds of the Hegemony were a well mapped section, but information on the core colonies of the Hegemony and Khar'shan itself was carefully controlled by the Hegemony government. Even when the batarians had been part of Council space they had jealously guarded the information on their territory.
However, the information the fleet did have would serve their needs well enough. An attack on the core worlds of the Hegemony would be suicide. While damaging the batarian economy would help the war effort, it was a secondary objective. The real objective of the mission is far more basic: people. Specifically slaves. The overall operational goal is simple: rescue as many educated, skilled slaves as possible, steal anything useful (and destroy what can't be stolen), and have the various disparate elements of the fleet steadily make their way through the Hegemony's frontier to a predetermined rendezvous point. Once the fleet has regrouped, it will break out of batarian space through a "back door" relay into the terminus systems. From there they make their way home, hopefully laden with highly qualified (and grateful) slaves who can contribute to the war effort. It was all made possible thanks to the generous (and highly secret) contribution of the Quarians, who had shown humanity all of the various trails their more primitive ships left behind and how to mask them.
With the arrival to the predetermined entry point into Hegemony space, the core fleet moves along its planned route, with small detachments breaking off and making their way towards secondary objectives.
Operation: SPARTACUS could finally begin.
---
September 7, 2089
The slave awoke next to the lightly snoring form of her master. She exited the bed, and began her usual routine. Unlike most of her past masters her current master didn't eat breakfast, so she need only put a kettle of tea on. Her latest master was a creature of habit. Her stirring would've woken him, like it always did, and by the time he made his way into the kitchen the tea would be done, like it always was.
With the tea on, the slave made her way out the door and headed down the very small streets of the colony-dome. She walked with a slight limp. The same limp she had been walking with for five hundred years. A limp caused by an injury sustained from her capture so very, very long ago.
In that time she had had many masters of varying degrees of quality. Her current master was one of the better ones, largely leaving her to her own devices and not feeling any particular inclination towards violence. Her previous master had been a property broker trying to sell the ownership of the dome-colony. He had included her with the deed to the colony to "sweeten the deal", as it were.
In the early years of her captivity, she'd thought about ending things. On her own terms. The implant made things difficult, but there were ways around its influence. Provided you were determined enough. One night, she'd come close. She'd circumvented the implant, and all she'd had to do was find the will.
But it hadn't been there.
Ironically, as time wore on, the prospect of it became more and more distasteful. To have endured this hell for so very, very long only for it to end like that? It would be a terrible waste of her own perseverance.
That didn't make it any less hard. Routine was what kept her sane, what gave her some control over her life. Which was why when she heard the raid alarm she briefly considered ignoring it and going about her day. Raids were a fact of life outside of the core worlds in Hegemony space.
If it wasn't a rival clan, it was pirates, or some terminus warlord coming back from his adventures to found a new clan and carve out a fiefdom in the homeland. So long as official Hegemony territory was left alone and the violence was restricted to the clans' private forces and not the military, the Hegemony allowed such behavior. Raiding was, after all, an integral part of batarian culture.
The slave had been taken by one of her worst masters in a pirate raid, and her desire to not have that fate inflicted on her once again finally overrode her desire to make lunch, and so she made for her master's home and the shelter there.
---
Senior Chief Ranger Amancio Paulo led his ranger team to its objectives. Overhead, he could see through the dome the distant light of the pair of interceptors the rangers had came in as they destroyed the last of the meagre orbital defenders. The ranger teams had two objectives in this raid: disable the dome's industrial and mining equipment, and rescue high-value slaves for the war effort.
The second half was an objective that didn't sit well with Amancio. It didn't sit well with any ranger that remembered his oath. To rescue some and leave others on the basis of their value to the war effort made the most logical sense, but that didn't mean he didn't still feel like garbage doing it. If the goal was to win the war at any cost, then they'd be better off just cracking the dome open with a k-bomb and killing everyone inside. If that was over the line, then why wasn't condemning people to a lifetime of slavery because they weren't useful enough to be rescued over the line? It was a question that bothered Amancio.
Amancio was glad to be able to focus on the first half of the objective instead. While other teams went for industrial centers and mining equipment, Amancio's team was going for the local administration. Destroying the administrative buildings could halt production too.
There first target was what looked to be the batarian equivalent of the office building, which apparently housed the local bureaucrats that ran the place. Sweeping that place was a piece of cake. All of the armed batarians Amancio and his rangers had encountered thus far in the colony had been thugs and bully-boys, used to beating on implant-crippled slaves, not trading shots with professionals.
The rangers made mincemeat of the batarians that hadn't been smart enough to throw down their weapons, and hog-tied the rest with disposable restraints. They had no interest in prisoners, but the batarians would still need to be prevented from taking further hostile action, and rangers didn't summarily execute POWs for the crime of being inconvenient. They had no qualms about visiting some small measure of the humiliation that these batarians had inflicted on their slaves, however. Hence the hog-tying.
To his surprise (and relief) Amancio didn't find a single slave in the office. Apparently, batarians didn't let slaves do bureaucratic work. A surprisingly merciful policy, in Amancio's paperwork-hating opinion.
The rangers made their way out of the building, destroying anything remotely important looking and leaving their prisoners behind to be discovered by any batarian clean-up crew in the aftermath of the raid. The next target was the governor's mansion.
---
The slave was surprised to encounter her master's corpse upon her return to the mansion. It filled her with little grief, but plenty of fear. He was her only source of protection. With him dead, it was open season on her.
"Ah, I was wondering if you'd find your way back here."
Speak of the devil.
Another batarian strolled out of the living room and into the entryway. The slave recognized him, some middle-manager or bureaucrat always kissing her master's ass. How strange that he'd be the one to end up murdering him.
"I've been waiting for the opportunity to put this old fool out of his misery. I've been poised to take over the colony for months now. All I needed to do was wait for the right moment. This raid was that moment. It is unfortunate that our beloved Governor was killed by those dastardly raiders, wouldn't you agree?" he said with a feral smile.
No point not playing along. "I agree." the slave lied.
The feral smile grew more feral. "I'm so glad to hear it. Now, in addition to inheriting the colony from our late Governor, I'll also inherit his possessions. That means you. I don't like to wait too long to break in a new slave, it gives them too much false hope. It's just needlessly cruel. So what's say the two of us head on down to my so very recently acquired Governor's shelter and keep each other company?"
"Why do they always try to pretend I'm their girlfriend and not their sex slave?" the slave mused aloud, hand to her chin, feigning deep thought. Damn it, why do I always have to run my mouth.
A very familiar and very expected pain came next as her implant was activated and every nerve-ending in her body cried out in terrible anguish. Her entire body buckled as she instantly collapsed to the floor, screaming until her throat was raw. When her senses returned to her, her new master was crouching next to her.
"Why do they always try to pretend they're a real person instead of an unusually intelligent animal?" her new master mused aloud, feigning deep thought himself.
He brought his face right next to hers, her master gracing the slave with his delightful breath as he spoke. "We really have it so easy these days, modern technology is really a marvel. In my ancestors' days, you had to beat a slave for hours to remind them of what they are. Now? It's just a button-click away." The slave's screams nearly blew out her own eardrums as her master furthered her education on the fundamentals of slavery.
She took a little longer to come to this time. When she did, her master was sitting in a chair in front of the door, smiling wide.
"You and I are going to head down into that bunker. By the time I'm done with you I'll hear you beg." he said.
In spite of herself, the slave let out a ragged chuckle.
Her master seemed more amused then annoyed, which probably wasn't a good sign. "And what, may I ask, is so funny?" he asked.
Slowly, painfully, she raised her head up to look at him, still chuckling. "It's...it's just that...you're like the seventh person to say that exact same sentence to me!" She lost herself in another round of chuckles.
He seemed genuinely amused. "Oh? And, these others, did they succeed. Did they make you beg?"
Her chuckling was shifting to full-blown, hysterical, desperate laughter. "Yes. Oh, Goddess, yes. Every time. I bawl like a baby too, every time. And the hilarious part is, it never gets easier!" She exploded in more laughter, her master joining in now.
"Every time is even harder than the first one!" she bellowed, laughing, tears pouring down her face.
Her master smiled again. "Well, I'm glad you can be so philosophical about it."
Then the door exploded and splattered him against the wall.
---
Amancio and his rangers flooded into the room, securing every point with perfectly drilled precision. Only when they'd finished their training-induced reflexive movements did they stop to take the building in.
Ah shit, we made a mess.
He looked over at an asari woman laying on the ground, clutching her face and laughing hysterically. He gave her a brief visual examination for injuries.
Covered in dust, but otherwise fine, by the looks of it. She looks like she's taking the situation well, too, judging by the laughter. I hope.
---
The slave looked at the odd group that had so soundly ended the life of her dearly departed master. They were an odd bunch, a mix of batarians and...asari?
"What are you, some kind of merc group?" She looked at the asari. "Goddess above, never thought I'd see another of my kind that wasn't a slave ever again."
The asari pointed her rifle at the ground, her other hand on her hip. "You're the second person to say that to me, now. This war is turning out to be great for my self-confidence. I haven't felt this attractive in years." She unclasped the seals of her helmet. "However, I am not an asari." She pulled off her helmet to reveal...something that was, indeed, not an asari.
The slave squinted at the creature. It vaguely reminded her of a quarian, from before they'd collectively shot themselves in the foot and got sealed away in those suits. Emphasis on vaguely. The only similarity that would hold up under scrutiny was the creature's hair, a light brown color. Hair exclusive to the head was a trait that only the quarians were known to have until this moment.
Ever tactful, the slave spoke. "The hell are you?" Nailed it.
They all snorted. The batarian at the head of the group who appeared to be the leader spoke. "Like she said, she's not an asari. And, before you ask, no-"
He took off his helmet too. "I'm not a batarian. We're humans. We're...new."
She eyed the group, with their strange, primitive gear that looked straight out of a historical drama. "I believe it. So, how new is 'new', exactly? I've been out of the loop for, oh, five hundred and thirty-seven years, so I'm a little behind."
"We made first contact less than a ye-did you just say you've been a slave for over five hundred years?" Amancio said.
She started chuckling again. "Yup. Isn't it hilarious? I can barely remember how to write my own name, but I can tell you exactly how many years I've been in this shithole of an interstellar civilization." She was laughing again.
Amancio felt ice water flood through his veins as the implications hit him. When the Americas were still almost mythical to the outside world, when Europe squabbled amongst themselves, when the Chinese Empire had still stood strong and Africa remained largely uncolonized, this woman had been captured.
When the slave trade had carried their human cargo around the world, from Arabia, Africa, and Europe to even the new continents across the Atlantic, this woman had already been in chains for an entire human lifetime.
When young men stood in line to massacre each other by the tens of thousands in the war that would end slavery in the United States, when Princess Isabel signed her Golden Law which brought an end to slavery in Amancio's homeland of Brazil and freed his ancestors, when brave people the world over had begun to fight in the court room and on the battlefield in the never-ending war to see that no human had to live in bondage ever again, this woman had been a slave for centuries. With no one to fight for her.
This woman, who was older than modern industrial civilization, had been held in chains for almost as long. And she was but one of the victims. The scale of the atrocity was difficult for Amancio to wrap his head around. So, instead, he asked her a question.
"Well, uh...what is your name?"
---
The slave was a little perplexed. "What?"
"Well, you mentioned you can't write your own name, so I was just wondering what it was." the big alien said.
The slave smiled in amusement. Genuine amusement this time. "Yinlari."
The man smiled back. "Well, Yinlari, do you want to get out of here?"
She smiled again. "Yes. Yes I do." the free woman said.
---
Tim was mildly amused as he saw the flotilla of hijacked batarian ships leave the colony. His rangers had, predictably, taken a liberal interpretation of what constituted "essential for the war effort" in their slave-rescuing efforts. The medium sized freighter-turned-passenger-liner that the Samar and her partner were escorting was not intended to accommodate this many people. Because the rangers were only supposed to rescue high-value personnel, not empty out the slave pens.
They'd probably done almost exactly that, gathering together what slaves they had found and offering them freedom-provided they had the courage to take it. After all, the path of Operation Spartacus was not going to be safe or easy. It would be wrong to try and force someone into it, even for their own good.
He sighed. At least they'd had the sense to..."acquire" extra transport instead of just trying to cram them all into the freighter.
"Ah, well. No plan survives contact with the enemy." he said aloud. Privately, he felt his spirits lift. He hadn't exactly been happy with the rescue plans himself. Still, the flotilla was probably going to be a lot bigger than planned for when they attempted their breakout, since the other ranger raider teams would probably do the exact same thing when they were tasked with rescuing slaves too.
---
Hello all! This was originally going to be a mega chapter depicting the entire Spartacus Operation, but I soon realized that was a bad idea. I ultimately decided that splitting it into more digestible chunks would be better for the story flow, as otherwise there would be a lot of disorienting perspective shifts for a single chapter. Even more so than usual.
You could think of the next few chapters as being part of a story arc. The SPARTACUS arc, if you will.
As always, thank you for reading, and please leave your thoughts in the reviews.
P.S. : Any fellow history nerds who think I screwed up something in the little tirade at the end, I plead mercy. I'm not a historian, just an amateur enthusiast. Any mistakes are not meant as a personal affront.
Neepa
Always pondering story possibilities
- Location
- Germany
Ok that is quite the unique idea to acquire more trained hands. And essentially perform broad intelligence.
Let's hope by the time the flotilla wants to turn back to human space they aren't ambushed by a larger batarian fleet. Forcing humanity to throw down in at least one larger engagement with the Batarians.
Let's hope by the time the flotilla wants to turn back to human space they aren't ambushed by a larger batarian fleet. Forcing humanity to throw down in at least one larger engagement with the Batarians.
Awesome, probably going to be one of the better ME fanfics