The man stood in front of the window and gazed down. His regal bearing was not dulled by his age, though if one looked closely the signs could be seen of exhaustion from carrying the world on his shoulders. The buzz of activity was little more than white noise as he stood deep in thought.
This was the last hope for the free species? What had this war come to that all of their hope rested on an untested science experiment? That was the way it had always been though, he supposed. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
"Sir," the voice over his right shoulder broke the admiral out of his contemplation, "Diagnostics check out, sir. We're ready."
The admiral turned and eyed the turian. A good species, he thought, perhaps a bit stuck on ceremony and formality, but tough as nails and loyal to the end.
Too bad they would die along with the rest of us.
"How long, lieutenant?" he asked.
"Ten minutes to full charge, sir," the turian replied.
"Very well, proceed."
The admiral turned back to the window. Just ten more minutes and he would have his answer.
"Sir, Captain Destius is reporting energy fluctuations on the edge of the system. They're here, sir."
A second aide approached the admiral, looking slightly fearful, but determined to do his job.
The admiral sighed, "Thank you, ensign. Please inform the captain we need him to hold for ten minutes."
Ten more minutes and I will have a report of success, the admiral thought, or I will be too dead to care.
As the admiral continued to gaze through the window a hum began to grow throughout the station. Light began to illuminate as capacitors charged. The lights silhouetted six figures in the chamber, hiding any distinct features. These six figures were the last hope of the free species. The entire existence of the human, asari, turian, and salarian races came down to these six figures.
"Sir, five minutes to full charge," reported the lieutenant.
"Sir, we've lost contact with the Final Dawn. Captain Destius is gone, sir," called the ensign.
The admiral wondered, How could these six figures possibly succeed where so many others have failed? Millions of men and women of all species have fought tooth and claw to defeat their indomitable enemy. What could possibly make these six different?
"Two minutes to full charge, sir."
"One of the enemy ships has broken through. It's heading our way."
They can sense the power here, the admiral thought. They know it is the last desperate gasp of a dying deer, and they intend to snuff it out; just like they have every cycle.
"Thirty seconds."
"The enemy ship has established orbit."
The lights in the chamber grew to a near unbearable intensity. Their brightness blurred the edges of figures making them even more indistinct. The hum of power and machinery reached a peak, causing visible vibrations in the window in front of the admiral.
"Five…"
The admiral raised his hand in a final salute to the six.
"Four…"
Good luck.
"Three…"
"The enemy ship is directly above us, sir."
God be with us.
"Two…"
"They're charging main cannons."
Who am I kidding?
"One…"
"Firing."
God is the one killing us.
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