[2034 GMT, 3 SEP 2186 CE, SSV Logan, Arcturus Station Patrol, Arcturus Stream]
"Sir, I've lost contact with Observation Post 19 in the Terminus Systems. Their last received transmission was reporting unidentified forces appearing on radar and opening fire with no armaments we've seen before. I've tried-"
Except we have seen them before.
"Understood, Lieutenant. Maintain communications with Observation Posts 24 and 45 and report in when they have something."
Admiral Steven Hackett cut the communications officer off. It was just another piece of the puzzle falling together, and he already knew that the officer would have tried everything. It was the rising fear he had to control on his ship. Keeping his officers busy and focussing on what they could do would stave off the deeper implications of rapidly disappearing colonies and installations to an unknown force. Inwardly, he sighed heavily. For all his years, he never thought he'd have to prepare for something like this.
"Aye aye, sir."
The Alliance Fifth Fleet, with the SSV Logan as its flagship, guarded Arcturus Station along with the First, Second and Third Fleet. To his men, he supposed it was a good reminder of how strong the Systems Alliance really was. Six other dreadnoughts, ten carriers, nearly a hundred cruisers, and countless thousands of frigates and smaller fighter craft darted on patrols across the fleet, he saw as he looked out into the darkness from the bridge. For all the numbers, he'd seen firsthand the uncertainty and fragility of the Alliance's place in the galaxy. First Contact had been decades ago, but he'd cut his teeth as the XO of a cruiser in that one, as ships burned and friends fell around him under the staggering might of the Turian Navy. And if his predictions were accurate about what Commander Shepard had said, this one would be worse.
He suppressed another sigh as Lieutenant Chao turned to request his attention again.
"Sir, Observation Post 45 has gone dark, reporting much the same thing. Unidentified force opening fire before transmission loss."
He could see the strain on the young Lieutenant's face as he was forced to listen to the dying words of a thousand people at a time. This is just the beginning, son.
"Thank you, Lieutenant. Open up a channel with the Fleet Admirals in the briefing room and set up the QEC for Admiral Anderson, then get some rest. XO Nirte, you have the bridge."
"Aye aye, sir."
No words were exchanged between him and the stoic XO, but the same tightly controlled apprehension was mirrored in the veteran Captain's gaze as she nodded to him. His stride was confident and urgent, but as he neared the briefing room, he wondered if this was how death row inmates felt walking to the execution room.
[08:45:24 GMT] QEC Module #008 Activation Command Received
[08:45:27 GMT] QEC Module #008 Initialising, Parameters: Classification [TOP SECRET], Priority [IMMEDIATE]
[08:45:29 GMT] Challenge Sent to [ADM D. Anderson]
[08:45:29 GMT] Waiting for Acknowledgement
[08:45:33 GMT] Acknowledgment Received from [ADM D. Anderson], Signal Loss [3%]
[08:45:33 GMT] Communications Established to [ADM D. Anderson]
"Steven, good to hear from you."
Anderson's familiar, yet authoritative tone was a welcome reminder that some things would never – should never, he told himself – change. He allowed himself a small smile.
"Better than good, David."
"You wouldn't be contacting me if it weren't. How bad is it?"
Anderson's stern face furrowed as he read the slight stiffness in Hackett's shoulders, the rigid set of his stance. While Hackett was always allergic to humour, he knew the effects of the coming war would be imperceptible to anyone but his closest friends, and the years had taken a toll on their numbers.
"Bad. We just lost contact with two of our deep space outposts. There's something massive on the long-range scanners."
A barely audible sigh from Anderson.
"Is this what Shepard warned us about?"
No hesitation.
"I'd stake my life on it."
The two men, half a galaxy apart, shared a quiet pause, each looking away in respect and to gather their thoughts.
"How long do we have?"
"Not long. I've sent word, the fleets are mobilising."
This time, Anderson sighed out loud. A resigned, mournful sound, but with underlying determination and grit. Just like the man himself. We need people like him and Shepard. Anything less and we've got no chance. For one short, bitter moment in time, two tired men who'd seen too much sadness in their lives and given up too much of themselves took a certain kind of comfort in the understanding of the other. Anderson broke the silence.
"God help us all."