I own neither the Mass Effect universe nor the Homeworld Universe, both of which are the properties of their respective creators.
Just a quick little note as well, please do not refrain from pointing out mistakes or flaws in this story, as it is mostly an exercise to practice my story writing skills. Aslong as you point out where the mistake is and what it is, I will fix it in time. Cheers in advance.
And I know I dropped the little quote thing at the beginning of chapters, please stop messaging me to tell me, I know!
"Thank you Kuun-Lan, 300,000 Refugee's owe you their lives."
"Where are you're escorts?"
"Unknown. We received a distress call from one of our heavy cruisers that had been missing for days. Our escorts went to their aid and radioed that they had the cruiser in visual range... that was the last we heard from them."
Communications exchange between the Kuun-Lan mining ship and Imperial Taiidan refugee ships. 15 years after Hiigaran Landfall. (15 AHL)
Thirty years after the Vaygr War (130 AHL)
Hiigaran Republic, Outer Colonies, Haaran Asteroid Belt
Hiigaran Navy Broadsword-class Battlecruiser Price of Freedom
"Hard starboard!"
"Hard starboard!" The Navigator acknowledged, throwing the 980 metre long battlecruiser Price of Freedom into a hull twistingly sharp turn; a turn so sharp it threatened to yank several of the command crew out of their workstations due too sheer force alone. Admiral Rahn Elso gripped the arms of his command chair as the view outside swirled, the stars and rocks outside the bridge tilting before him. An alarm sounded somewhere towards the rear of the bridge as the forces generated by the turn pushed the hull to its limit. The emergency turn did its job though, throwing off the aim of the Vaygr gunners aboard the enemy battlecruiser. Two fat, crimson plasma bolts raced past the ships hull, whilst a third slammed against his ship's shields.
Ah, shields. Kiith S'jet had studied Progenitor shielding for a long time, studying the few half-intact keepers and movers salvaged from the Progenitor graveyards that were sprinkled across the galaxy, trying to understand how it worked, how it could be used. Fifteen years. Thats how long it had taken the greatest minds in the newly established Hiigaran Republic to reverse engineer the progenitor tech, scale it's power requirements down to practical levels, and convert it to work with Hiigaran technology. The result? Easily craftable shield generators that increased ship survival rates massively. S'jets invention eclipsed Kiith Naabals attempt: using electronic pulses to trick missiles into detonating early as well as dissipating flak and low calibre burst gun fire.
Sadly, everyone had shields now. Some had reverse engineered them from the first Hiigaran vessels that mounted them. Others acquired them from... less reputable sources. Sometimes Rahn forgot Vaygr and Imperial vessels now mounted shields, a fact he was brutally reminded of as yet another salvo from his flagships heavy guns simply clattered against the enemy battlecruisers shields, causing them to briefly flare into sight.
Sometimes, just sometimes, Admiral Rahn yearned for the 'good old days' as many older officers were beginning to call them. The days before Kiith S'jets radical invention. The days when fleet engagements were decided quickly and brutally, where superior numbers and better tactic's spelled doom for you're opponent. It wasn't the extra survivability that the shields provided, oh no! he loved that. It was the fact that shields allowed enemy forces more time to retreat, regroup or recover, owing to the fact that vessels no longer fell as quickly in battle. Commanders had more time to rally their ships. Surprise attacks quickly lost their momentum, etcetera, etcetera.
As it were, the 14th rear guard tactical fleet had been skirmishing with this particular Vaygr crusade for almost a week. The week had mostly been spent engaging small enemy strike groups that had broken off from the main force to attack civilian transports, outposts or resourcing operations, all whilst the 14th had simultaniously been hunting for the main Vaygr force.
Thankfully the Vaygr Warlord leading this particular crusade did not appear to be a fan of patience nor tactics. After only staging three large raids and a dozen smaller ones, the enemy commander saved the 14th the effort of searching for him and finally showed face in the Haaran asteroid belt: a sparse but vast asteroid field that split the lower eastern Hiigaran colonies off from the Vaygr Reaches. If Rahn had been the enemy commander he would have staged several raids at the same time, stretching the Hiigaran forces before committing his heaviest warships to attacking the 14th fleet's flagship. Wipeout the chain of command, wipeout the fleet. In most cases anyway.
The Vaygr raids were not entirely ineffective though. The Kharis Man'ell -sister ship to the Kharis Pat'ell and one of the 14th's three Broadsword-class battlecruisers (excluding his flagship)- had been deliberately targetted by a Vaygr cruiser squadron whilst on patrol. A wolfpack of Vaygr cruisers -led by one of their Heavy cruiser's no less- versus a single patrolling battlecruiser and a harem of escorting frigates... not good odds, even under the best of circumstances.
Even though the Kharis Man'ell had fought valiantly under her Captains command, she did not survive the enemy ambush.
The damage inflicted upon her hull had been extensive. Massive gouges had been ripped from her vaguely swordshaped form. Her forward dorsal turret had exploded, blasting the pronged front into an unrecognizable tangled mess of warped metal. That damage paled in comparison to what had happened to the ships drives and engineering section. The majority of the ships aft thrusters had been torn off or mangled by heavy mass driver rounds, whilst a gaping hole in the ships armour allowed a glimpse of the battlecruisers smashed central and starboard fusion reactor's. Most of this damage had been inflicted courtesy of the Vaygr Heavy cruiser. The Kharis Man'ell was a total lose. A painful lose. Whilst it would only take a week -at most- to replace her, the problem would be getting access to Kiith Naabal's shipyards, not to mention replacing her battle-hardened crew...
Rahn had redistributed the Kharis Man'ells cruiser and destroyer escorts amongst the remaining two battlecruisers. A stopgap measure that added a bit more firepower to each of the remaining cruiser groups. The Kharis Pat'ells commander -a close friend of the Kharis Man'ells now deceased commander- sought vengeance, vowing to destroy any Vaygr vessel that was foolish enough to cross his path.
Upon the 14th's arrival on the outskirts of Haaran, Rahn had executed a short ranged tactical hyperspace jump, positioning his force to within 10,000 kilometres of the detected enemy formation. Nothing Rahn knew of could engage at 10,000 kilometers, other than maybe Sajuuk itself, though it would be a dark day if he ever had to fight that monster in battle...
The two fleets had immediately begun to accelerate to engage though it was not until they closed to around 7,000 kilometers that the heaviest guns in the fleet begun to open up. The massive arbiter guns and ion cannons aboard the battlecruisers, and to a lesser extent the smaller guns mounted upon cruisers, began thundering away at the Vaygr formation, who returned in kind with their own barrage of kinetic slugs and long range missiles. Three Vaygr battlecruisers lurked towards the rear of the enemy formation, liberally firing their spinally mounted, triple shot Trinity plasma cannon arrays at their Hiigaran enemies, the crimson bolts blasting knocking out shields and melting through armour with alarming ease.
At around 5000 kilometers the frigates and destroyers could add their weight to the fight. Shorter ranged missiles came into play as well, with swarms of the damned things launched by both sides. By this point kinetic fire was being happily sprayed back and forth between the opposing fleets. Hull armour cracked and hulls splintered. Ion cannon's speared through the darkness, lancing through shields and boiling through hull plating. Ships on both sides began to fall, cruisers, destroyers and frigates torn apart by terrifying amounts of firepower.
Both fleets held formation until around 3000 kilometers. At that point, the massive coordinated advance and the barrages between the two opposing forces broke down into a brawl. Cruiser's broke formation and dueled with each other: either one on one, or in small formations supported by other craft. Destroyers supported their larger cruiser brethren: either by forming small packs to help smash enemy cruisers, or by singularly hunting down the enemy frigates that stabbed at their flanks. Assualt frigates teamed together in wolfpacks, picking on lone destroyers or targetting wounded cruisers.
In amongst the chaos of battle flew the strike craft. Interceptor pilots fought running battles amongst the diving and twisting capital ships, firing autocannons, burst guns or missiles at each other; throwing their craft into crazy spins or rolls in an attempt to shake off enemy fire; firing off countermeasures; shouting over the comm's in glee as they blasted apart yet another enemy fighter, or in dread as they were torn apart by point defence guns or assualt craft fire.
Bomber squadrons had their fun as well, their hulking forms diving in amongst the carnage, hunting for weakened targets or unescorted cruisers, before swooping in to blow chunks out of said targets with plasma weaponry and anti-capital missiles. Gunship corvette's -working either alone or in pairs- hunted Vaygr fighter squadrons, tearing them apart with a barrage of accurate, rapid fire mass driver slugs, whilst also avoiding flights of Vaygr Missile Corvette's who sought to destroy them with strems of concussion missiles.
The chaos -all of it- was displayed on the spherical, blue, holographic command model tactical display in the centre of the bridge: though the images were much simpler and less dramatic than the reality. Gone were the sleek almost elegant Hiigaran vessels and far more rugged, aggressive look of the Vaygr designs. Instead each sides craft were reduced to red or green icons, with different shapes representing different ship class. Weapons fire was meerly shown by streams of little yellow dots that shot back and forth between the two sides. On the tactical screen, vessels didn't die in a glorious ball of nuclear fire, or drop out of battle, hulls blasted apart trailing smoke, bodies and debris...
No, they simply winked off with a beep.
Rahn had been content to keep his battlecruisers out of the massive furball where they'd have been torn apart at such close range. Instead, he elected to have them provide long range fire-support, cutting down larger Vaygr vessels with their heavy guns or ion beams when they had a clear shot. All except one though. The Kharis Pat'ell and her escorts had engaged in a furious duel with one of the opposing Vaygr battlecruisers and its own escorts. The two massive vessels were now slugging away at each other with their devastating weapons as they locked in a fight to the death.
It was then -whilst Rahn's full attention had been fixed on observing the battle- that one of the enemies other battlecruiser's had taken a shine for the 14th fleets flagship.
"Sajuuk, damn that bastard." Rahn muttered in annoyance as yet another of the Price of Freedom's salvo's slammed against the hostile battlecruisers shields. The Vaygr vessel merely shrugged off the mass driver rounds. Shield strength scaled with generator size and power. Whilst a frigate sized generator could only withstand a handful of heavy kinetic rounds at the most, the shields wielded by a battlecruiser could easily withstand numerous barrages from capital grade guns. The enemy warship continued to bear down on the 14th fleets flagship, fusion missiles streaming from it's spinally mounted launcher.
"Fire our missiles, damn it!" Rahn shouted. The weapons operator did as commanded, hands dancing across his console as he prepped the Price of Freedom's secondary light missile pods. A swarm of concussion missiles erupted from the launchers dotted across the Hiigaran warships hull but a moment later. The small missiles -trailing white propellant- streaked towards the enemy capital ship, closing the relatively short distance in no time. Red point defence lasers flashed along the Vaygr battlecruisers hull, striking down some of the Hiigaran missiles, but nowhere near all of them. Twenty or so missiles detonated against the enemies shields, causing them to ripple under the concussive force, the missiles further draining the enemy shields.
Rahn blinked his eye's shut for a moment as his ship shook under the impact of the more powerful Vaygr missiles. Rahn really wished his ship had more point defence guns. As it were, six of the ten heavy missiles fired at his ship had struck home, each one detonating with kilotons of explosive force, causing the shields to drop dangerously below thirty-percent charge.
The tactical display chirped a warning as the Admiral opened his eye's; a new contact had slid out from the safety of a thick dust cloud 500 or so kilometers away. A single Vaygr cruiser was now bearing down on his flank, missiles already streaming from the medium fusion launcher mounted alone it's spine.
"Sneaky, very sneaky." The Admiral muttered, grinning as he ordered a pair of idle destroyers to intercept the enemy vessel. The destroyers immediately vectored towards the Vaygr cruiser and engaged, missiles and mass driver rounds dancing between the two sides.
The bridge shook once more as another barrage of missiles from the Vaygr battlecruiser struck the Hiigaran flagship. The sheer explosive power generated by the missiles actually shunted the Hiigaran battlecruiser slightly off course before it's manuevering thrusters corrected the error. The Price of Freedom's shields flared, threatened to collapse... but held. Just. There was no way they would withstand another barrage.
Rahn tapped an icon on the tactical display as his curiosity suddenly overcame his sensibility. The battle faded away at the new command only to be replaced by a 3D scan of the battlecruiser his ship was currently engaging. The vessels long hull -with its sharp lines, aggressive shape and narrow, vertically tall profile- was painted differently from the other two Vaygr battlecruisers. The usual Black and white striped hull paint had been adorned with the symbols and markings of one of the more influential Vaygr clans, clearly telling that its Captain belonged to said clan. On top of the overcomplicated paint scheme, the hull had also been slightly reinforced (by atleast half a metre at its thickest point), plus the communications array had been heavily modified to accomodate command and control equipment and antennae.
"That will be their command ship then." Rahn muttered the conclusion to himself. It was obvious really, such modifications would never have been allowed on a mere rank-and-file, fresh from the shipyard battlecruiser. This was the command ship of a fleet commander.
Without another moments thought, Rahn turned and pointed almost accusingly at the weaponry officer.
"Ready all -and I mean all- guns to fire. Target the armour around their heavy missile battery. Lets give them a taste of their own medicine."
The crew did as commanded. Every weapon -from close in guns too short range missiles and pulsar lasers- was prepared. Anything that had the range was readied and aimed at the enemies missile battery. One by one, predatory grins appeared on the faces of the Hiigaran weapons crews tending to the battlecruiser as they realised what their commander was ordering. If it worked, it would result in the total destruction of the enemy Flagship. It was a daring move.
"Fire." Rahn ordered with a wave of his hand. The Gunnery officer tapped a single icon on his consoles screen, sending an automated instant message to each of the weapon crews. One icon, that was all it took to unleash the full wrath of the Price of Freedoms guns.
The Price of Freedom's Arbiter guns thundered, firing mass driver slugs at the enemy warship with unnerving speed and accuracy at ranges as a close as this. The Vaygr shields snapped and buckled under the bombardment before they crackled and flashed out of existance. An instant later two duel-beamed ion streams lanced through the Vaygr ships flanks, boiling away meters of ultra dense alloy in mere seconds. The beams stabbed into the internal hull underneath; melting through metal, electronics and crewmen alike. Disapointingly, the beams stopped a few meters short of the missile tubes, though they left a horrific moltern crater in the side of the enemy flagship. Concussion missiles detonated inside the hull breach moments later, despite the best efforts of Vaygr point defence lasers. The resulting explosion sent half-melted armour splattering out into space, followed by debris and mangled bodies of the former crew. A secondary explosion erupted from the depths of the Vaygr vessel as the fusion missiles detonated in their tubes, creating a tremendous, blinding ball of fire that violently snapped the long vessel in two as it consumed the Battlecruiser's entire missile battery, before rising up and pulverising the bridge, which shattered, sending shards of super-tough "glass" and metal spiralling out into the depths of space.
Rahn watched the two halfs of the enemy command ship drift apart, the stern section trailing flame and smoke that quickly fizzled out as it burned through the last of the ships artificial oxygen supplies. Rahn grinned to himself. The stupid bastard never saw it coming. Served him right for picking a fight with Rahn's fleet. He continued grinning, even as a pitiful number of lifepods fired feebly from the decimated vessels forward section.
There was something gratifiying watching an enemy force break as it realised it was suddenly leaderless. In Rahns experience, one of two things happened. Either a subordinate tried to take command, or the enemy panicked and retreated. This particular Vaygr crusade chose the latter.
The untouched Vaygr Battlecruiser lurking at the very rear of the Vaygr formation, seeing it's command vessel destroyed, and obviously not wishing to follow it, suddenly spun on it's axis and activated it's jumpdrive, tearing open a hyperspace window and vanishing in a wink of light. The other Battlecruiser, it's hull armour battered and cratered from combat, tried to jump, it's engine's surging with power, only to have them cut through by the Kharis Pat'ells ion beams just as they charged their jumpdrive. The mighty Vaygr warship floundered, rolling onto it's side as it lost power. The cruiser's Captain was obviously a smart man, as he immediately transmitted a surrender request to the Kharis Pat'ell.
Rahn watched smugly as more and more Vaygr vessels dropped what they were doing and fled, abandoning their duels with the remaining Hiigaran vessels. More and more vessels disappeared from the Tactical display, the Vaygr number's thinning until only a half disabled cruiser was left. And a flock of hapless assualt craft that had been abandoned by their carrier, unlucky bastards.
Rahn stared at the tactical display, a wide grin plastered over his aged face. Whilst Rahn had expected the enemy to flee, he hadn't expected the all out rout that had just taken place. Still, more reason to feel good about himself, though it did raise question's about the Vaygr's wavering ability to fight. Rahn couldn't blame them though.
Vaygr forces still loyal to Makaan, or atleast the idea of a united Vaygr nation, were fighting an internal civil war against the many Vaygr clans that were breaking off from their control. Combined with Imperial Taiidani raids on their northern territories, the Loyalists were stretched thin and often demoralised, to the point where they fled as soon as they started taking noticable casualties.
The Hiigaran vessels floated silently amongst the remains, stunned by the sudden victory. Then it came, a chorus of cheers that erupted from an assualt frigate, a chorus that grew in size as more and more ship crews added their voice to the applause. Captains laughed and chatted across the fleet wide comm channels, offering their thanks or congratulations for help in the battle, or sharing jokes at the expense of deceased Vaygr Captains.
"Get me fleet wide." Rahn ordered, pointing at his communications officer, raising his voice so that he would be heard. The bridge crew were cheering, happily chatting amongst themselves; slapping each others backs; shaking hands; punching the air in triumph. The young communications officer halted his celebration and rushed back to his console, quickly carrying out the Admirals orders, still smiling like a maniac whilst he patched the Admiral through to the rest of the fleet.
"Listen up 14th." The Cheering immediately died away, replaced by a calm silence as the rest of the fleet listened to their commanding officer. Rahn savoured the silence for a moment before continuing.
"You did a hell of a job today people. Even the warriors of Kiith Soban would have been proud of how hard you fought today. Thanks to you're actions, the Eastern Colonies can sleep safely once more, knowing that 14th have got their backs."
He paused, wondering how long it would be until another rouge Vaygr crusade or vengeful Imperial fleet decided that it would be fun to raid the Eastern Colonies...
Rahn dispelled the thought. He just fought the enemy whenever and wherever they decided to reappear, no matter the reason for their appearance.
"All ships, form on my Flag." Rahn ordered after a moments thought. "Plot course for Port Yarmshir, It's time we got a well deserved break."
Rahn smiled as both his bridge and the comm channels erupted with whoops and cheers. It had been a good few months since the 14th had gotten a break from frontline combat. The 14th were due a rest anyway, their duties scheduled to be relieved by the 13th tactical fleet. Taking the leave a little early would also do the men some good, as well as allowing Rahn to replace the 14th's lost ships... and crew.
Rahn's mood suddenly soured. He'd have to file a casualty report on this latest action. Just by glancing at the tactical display, which clearly showed the hulks of dozens of smashed Hiigaran ships, he knew the casualties were easily in the hundreds. This would be the 14th's largest single lose of life in almost two years.
Rahn turned his eye on the cheering figure's of the command crew. In truth, Rahn barely knew any of their names, let alone anything personal about them. In his experience, it was better if he didn't know any of them... it made it easier to cope of he ever lost them.
With a sigh, the aged Captain turned to leave the bridge and it's ecstatic crew members behind, not before downloading the files of two of his most competent cruiser Captain's however.
He would need those...
"Children of Hiigara... you are beaten. This sector is now under my control. Stand down and prepare for Vaygr occupation. I have come to claim what is mine. Return the second core, and I will spare your homeworld."
Makaan's broadcast too Hiigara during the Vaygr War, 100 years after Hiigaran Landfall (100 AHL)
Thirty years after the Vaygr War (130 AHL)
Hiigaran Republic, Outer Colonies, Port Yarmshir
Port Yarmshir was easily the largest Space Station in the OuterColonies. A heavily armoured dome, four kilometres in diameter and lined with docking arms and hangars, the station hung in high orbit over a small, rocky moon: the moon itself home to a number of civil outposts and mining operations. Yarmshir was one of a dozen so called "free-stations" that had sprung up amongst the fringe Hiigaran colonies in the wake of the Vaygr war. The stations were neutral, were run by their own independent governments, had their own small defence forces and refrained from getting involved in larger galactic matters. Within their armoured domes resided entire spacebourne, self-dependent cities that offered a needed port in the storm for beleagured travellers, merchants and even soldiers to rest and trade, regardless of race or nationality. The Outer Colonies had always been dangerous. Bordering both Vaygr and Imperial space, the Fringe Colonies were often raided or attacked by Vaygr or Imperial raiders. Therefore, stations like Port Yarmshir were welcomed additions to such a heartless areas of space. Yarmshir itself was remarkable. The largest of all the stations, Yarmshir was renowned for its multicultural populace, its developed nightlife and its great markets. It was actually a recommended place for vacation.
And it was here that Captain Tillus Velaan found himself. Right in the centre of Yarmshir's busiest market. And boy, was he enjoying himself.
The market alone was a most impressive spectacle. Tillus had never experienced such a varied and vibrant marketplace. Stalls and small shops littered the market square, each one clashing with the other as colourful styles and exotic custom's mixed, their equally vibrant vendors doing their best to draw in customers from the surging crowds. Traders from the furthest corners of the Galaxy came to Yarmshir, each as eager to sell their goods as the next. Earlier, a smiling man in a mish mash of clashing colours had brought Tillus over to his stall, before trying to sell the officer several antique weapons. The slightly rounded man had pushed a bulky pistol into Tillus' hands, claiming that the Young Captain wouldn't find a better deal in the Galaxy... It was an impressive claim, considering another vendor was selling the exact same items meer metres away. The stall-owners price's were equally impressive...
Since then, Tillus had returned to happily browsing the many varied stalls, soaking in the culture and atmosphere, whilst keeping away from the more zealous of vendors, hoping to avoid a repeat of his encounter with the antique's vendor...
Tillus moved with the crowd, a crowd that was as vibrant as the market around them. Basic, single coloured overalls or simple fabric jumpers and coats mixed with stained engineering suits, battered flight suits or the odd expensive, sharp suit's or pompous, ruffled dresses of the more wealthier of the stations visitors . Now and again, Tillus would catch a glimpse of the station's security guards; rent-a-thug's in brown flak jackets with armoured chest plates wielding batons and stun guns. Tillus tended too shimmy away from the security patrols; he'd had heard more than one story about Yarmshir's security and their love of picking fights with off duty members of the Hiigaran Navy...
Tillus' travels brought him out into the open centre of the market, a circular area dominated by small food stalls on all sides, each one selling a variety of cooked foods, meats and curries from every corner of the galaxy. Overhead, one could catch a glimpse of the many shuttles and small airborne taxi's as they zipped back and forth across the station. Yarmshir's great dome was hollow, held up by four immensely strong, massive, pillar-like towers that also doubled as residental dwellings. At the centre of the dome was a huge, disc-shaped light that cast out a soft, yellowish glow. This light - which was powered by it's very own fusion reactor- provided twenty-four hour lighting for the whole city.
Tillus' stomach growled impatiently, spurred into action by the powerful aroma's of grilled meats and exotic spices that were currently assualting the tanned, black haired officer's sense's. With a shrug, Tillus gave into his urge's and began hunting for something to eat, his eye's skipping over the many different stalls, eyeing the foods on offer as well as judging the ques and, of course, the prices.
He waddled past a hooded preacher, his white robes spotless and decorated with ornate Progenitor symbols. The man was proclaiming the beginning of the End Times, that Sajuuk -he who's hand shapes what is- would rise up and destroy all those whom he deemed unworthy. Complete nosense as far as he was concerned, but he wasn't one for judging the beliefs of other people.
Tillus found himself hovering over one of the more ramshackle food stalls. This one was stocked with an impressive array of oddly shaped fruits, most of which Tillus had never seen nor heard of before. Tillus found his attention drawn to a juicy looking, melon shaped fruit. The thing was the size of his head! Tillus decided he had to buy it, just cause it was so big, it wasn't as if the owner was asking for much anyway... Speaking of the owner, The Elderly gentlemen in-charge of the stall, a thin, bedraggled looking man with a messy, unkept beard, noticing that he had a potential customer, looked up at Tillus expectantly, his sad eye's almost pleading for the Hiigaran Officer to buy something. Tillus' hand slipped slowly towards his trouser pocket, aiming to retreive the cheap, leather wallet he'd picked up on some backwater station during his travels. As he gently slid the wallet out of his pocket, another, smaller hand darted out of nowhere, grabbed the wallet and ripped it out from under the startled Captains hand. Spinning around, Tillus saw the tiny figure of a teenage boy sprinting off into the crowd, Tillus' wallet held triumphantly in his right hand.
"Hey!" Tillus shrieked, instantly giving chase. The Hiigaran Naval Officer pushed himself into a rage fuelled sprint, shoving a young man out of the way as he pursued the tiny pick-pocket. No way was that little rat getting away with Tillus' wallet! Tillus tore past stunned market-goer's, who quickly moved out of his path, least they get knocked flying. The boy was faster though, darting in and out of the crowd, causing people to shriek in surprise or yell in annoyance. Tillus was... not as fit as he should have been. Commanding a warship wasn't exactly a physically taxing positon... Before long, the little, spotty faced thief was gaining ground, darting towards one of the many alleys and side streets that lined the markets edge. If the kid got into one of the alley's it was over. There was no way Tillus was chasing that speedy little freak through the dark, shady alleyway's that littered Yarmshir's rougher area. A glance too his left confirmed how futile his attempts to catch the thief were. A pair of station security guards were racing towards him, baton's drawn. The two armoured idiot's had probably decided it was Tillus attacking the kid, and not the other way around.
Then, just as Tillus began to slow and give up, something spectacular happened.
In a blur of motion, a pair of massive arms darted out from the crowd. The teenage thief yelped as he suddenly found himself suspended almost a foot above the ground.
Tillus grinned as he recognised his saviour. Well, it was hard not to recognise him... Captain Raan Antal was a tank of man, easily distingushable by his bald head and massive frame. Raan's most destinguishing feature however was his left eye, a weighted, glass fake that served as a replacement for his real one, which he'd lost too a knife during a particularly violent brawl.
"I think you'd better give my friend here, Captain Tillus, his wallet back." The Taiidani born man growled. The terrified teenager, faced with this terrifyingly large man, dropped the wallet at once. Tillus, breathing heavily from his prolonged sprinting, quickly grabbed his wallet from ground, glaring at the teenager whilst doing it, quietly cursing his family and his Kiith.
"Here you go officers." Raan chirped politely to the two security guards as they finally burst through the crowd. The two guards eyed Tillus sourly, grudgingly holstering their batons.
"We'll take him from here." The thinest of the two gaurds snorted, roughly grabbing the pickpocket, slapping a pair of binders around his wrists and manhandling him back into the crowd. Raan watched the two guard's depart, a fearsome scowl plastered on his face, before turning to regard Tillus.
"Where have you been?" Raan's accent was incredibly polite, much more polite than most Hiigarans. His accent failed to hide his irritation though. Although Raan didn't look it, he was as young as Tillus, both of whom were only in their late twenties, both of whom were unusually young for Captain's.
"I told you to meet me here, this station can be..." Raan glanced over his shoulder towards the two guards slowly disappearing into the crowds. "...unpleasant. Anyway's, we were meant to be at the Bellaan Bar half an hour ago."
"Sorry, I got a little... side tracked. Couldn't resist the market." Tillus offered. Too Tillus' surprise, Raan's irritation instantly melted away, replaced by a wide, friendly grin that showed off his impossibly white teeth.
"I too was enticed by the great market. Twice I almost ventured over to sample it's fine produce and take in it's many sights and smells." Raan sighed, allowing himself to smile slightly. "It has been a long time since I've been near such a diverse, wonderous marketplace. Maybe we can tour it once we've visited the Bellaan."
Tillus nodded his head in agreement. "I don't know how sober I'll be later, Raan."
"Ah, of course. Trust you to be thinking of nothing other than drinking this early in the evening." Raan grinned in reply. "I believe the Doctors would call you an Alcoholic."
"You're so funny, Raan." Tillus shook his head. "Now, lead me to this Bar before I get bored and wander off again..."
"Aye, lets go."
Raan spun on his heel, leading the way towards one of the side street's that ran off from the market square. Raan easily cleared a path through the tightly packed street. People quickly got out of Raan's way, simply because he looked like he would tear them in half if they didn't. The narrow street was lined with shops that sold trinkets and other assorted pieces of junk and clutter, the kind of worthless, dirt cheap shops one would expect to find away from the main market.
"This bar, whats it like?" Tillus suddenly asked his larger companion, though he kept his eye's on the crowd's infront of him.
"It's... quiet." Ra'an replied curtly. "Out of the way. The drinks are very cheap."
"We could have went to one of the bigger bars you know." Tillus replied. "The one's with dancers, loud music, lots of girls and plenty of exotic booze?"
"No. This is too important." Raan replied. Tillus frowned. What was he on about?
"What's too important?" Tillus asked, coming to an immediate halt, only for an older man too walk straight into his back. Tillus spun around and apologised. The old man shot the Captain a venomous glare, muttering something about 'Young disrespectful bastards'. Tillus waited until the old man shuffled out of earshot before returning his gaze to his friend.
"Tell me what it is Raan, or I'm not going one step further."
Raan sighed in defeat, before shaking his head and shrugging his massive shoulders.
"Fine." He muttered, looking Tillus in the eye. "The Admiral requested that I meet him at the Bellaan, and that I bring you too. He asked me no too tell you, in case you decided against coming..."
"The Admiral, as in, Admiral Rahn?"
"Yes."
"And he told you not to tell me?"
"Yes."
"Why?" Tillus looked at his friend. This was... a shock to say the least. The Admiral had asked for them too meet him, and Tillus doubted it was for a friendly chat and a glass of Whiskey...
"He said that it would be best if you didn't ask questions."
Tillus just stood and shook his head. Why would the Admiral want Raan to keep quiet? Obviously this was something pretty big.
"I don't know much more than that, Tillus." Raan began as Tillus opened his mouth to speak.
Tillus sighed, trying to comprehend what he was getting into. "Fine, Raan. Lead on."
Raan nodded and immediately crossed the street, pushing his way through the crowd. At first, Tillus was wondering where Raan was going, but then he spotted it; a small, neon sign with the word 'Bellaan', written on it, the only indication of the bars existence.
Raan wasted no time, immediately thundering down a set of dimmly lit stairs, clattering into the little queing area at the bottom, Tillus cautiously following behind. A single bouncer stood guard at the entrance to the Bellaan, a massive man almost the size of Raan. Raan fished for something in his trouser pocket, before producing two passcards, which he quickly showed to the doorman.
The muscular bouncer nodded his head towards the door, content with Raan's ID. The single door slid open silently as Raan approached. With Raan leading, the duo entered the bar.
The bar wasn't too bad, nowhere near as bad as Tillus had been expecting from a quiet, out of the way bar. A single, well-lit, circular bar dominated the centre of the room, with dozens of sleek tables and chairs arranged around it in a circular pattern. Several groups of people sat at the tables, though Tillus struggled to make out features in the dim, purple lighting.
Raan tapped Tillus on the shoulder and pointed towards a table near the back of the bar, a table occupied by two figures, though Tillus, yet again, couldn't make them out in the low light. Without a single word, Raan strode across the bar towards the the half hidden table, Tillus following cautiously behind.
It was only as they neared the table could Tillus make out the faces and features of the two figures sat at opposite ends of the table. Admiral Rahn Elso's small stature and apparent frailness hid one of Hiigara's most decorated Admiral's. A veteran of the Vaygr War, Rahn had been commanding cruisers and killing pirates whilst Tillus had still been learning to count. The man was pushing sixty though, his age most prominent in his eye's, and also his thinning grey hair.
The other person was a woman, around the same height as Tillus, thin, long brown hair, ghostly pale skin, her meager form framed by a flowing tan dress with brown highlights. She had the look of a woman who didn't spend much time outside, yet, Tillus couldn't shake the feeling that he'd seen her somewhere before...
"Ah, gentlemen!" The Admiral exclaimed as he recognised the two Captains in the dim light. "I was afraid you weren't going to join us."
On instinct, Tillus and Raan snapped off perfect salutes, earning them a fearsome scowl from the Admiral. "You're off-duty, cut the saluting crap."
The two Captain's did as commanded, dropping the salutes, though Tillus was nowhere near at ease. The ghostly woman remained silent, simply studying the two officer's, her pale blue eye's flashing over them as she soaked in every detail.
"I'm assuming you both want to know, exactly why you're here." Rahn began, producing a small whiskey flask and proceeding to pour the contents into a small cup. "So, we'll start from the beginning. This fine young woman here is Alesha Naabal, she is the one who asked me too bring you here tonight."
"Wait, Alesha Naabal, as in, the daughter of Kiith Naabal's new Kiith-sa?" Tillus blurted out the question without thinking, earning him one of the fiercest stares he'd ever seen, courtesy of Admiral Rahn.
Alesha simply smiled.
"The very same." She answered, before looking both of the Captain's in the eye and clasping her hands together, taking in a sharp breath.
"I've asked for both of you, simply because I need your help." She paused, trying to gauge their reactions, before continuing on. "Two days ago, a mercenary frigate under the contract of Kiith Naabal detected an... object, hidden in a dense dust cloud only a days trip from Port Yarmshir using sublight engines."
"But why would you be intrested in it?" Tillus asked quickly. Kiith Naabal were the industrial master's of the Hiigaran Republic. Their Shipyards kept the Navy afloat, churning out warships non-stop in order to meet the defence needs of an ever expanding Republic. That was why Tillus was confused. Kiith Naabal, nevermind one of their most esteemed members, shouldn't be out here poking around for relics or derelicts, that responsibility feel upon Kiith S'jet or Navy patrols.
"A good question." She replied, smiling slightly, continuing to stare the two officers down. "My Kiith is... intrested in this vessels origins. From what the Mercenaries would share with us, the craft is definately not of Progenitor design, neither does it match the design patterns of any known nation. I'm planning on taking a science team to investigate, but unfortunately, whilst Kiith Naabal owns a relatively large private fleet, it would take many days for any of our ships to arrive in system, days that I cannot afford to lose."
"So, you're asking the navy for protection instead?"
"Indeed." She smiled, though Tillus had worked out by now that it was not a genuine smile. "You have to understand the kind of boost a discovery like this would give to Kiith Naabal, no, too Hiigara as a whole. Unknown Technology, possibly even Alien, free for the taking. Imagine the secrets it could hold..."
Tillus' eye's widened as he caught on. "Technology that could out do Kiith S'jets last big breakthrough?." The Naabali scientist tilted her head slightly, but did not answer. "This is nothing but an attempt to boost Kiith Naabal's power and influence. A chance for you too get back at Kiith S'jet for pushing Naabal out of the spotlight."
"Hmm." She looked Tillus over. "I'll admit that Kiith S'jet's reverse engineering of Progenitor shielding technology was a... blow, to my Kiith. S'jet also gained alot of support in the Daiamid, whilst we lost the support of several smaller Kiith's, tilting the balance further in S'jet's favour. It is a dangerous situation when a single Kiith almost controls the entire Daiamid."
"I'm out if this if it's just a political power grab." Tillus declared, ignoring Alesha's stare. "I'm not putting my ship and my crew at risk just so Kiith Naabal can pick at a derelict in the hopes that they'll find some superweapon, or something to boost their influence."
"Tillus is right." Raan suddenly interjected. "There is no way that I am risking my ship either."
"Captain's, please." Alesha squirmed in her chair and sighed, before producing a small data pad from one of the pocket's in her dress. She'd hoped that she wouldn't have had to play her last card, but the two Captain's had proven harder to convince than she'd expected. She tapped a few icons on the screen, before sliding the datapad across the table for Tillus and Raan to see.
"I'm sure this will be sufficent to change you're mind."
Tillus' eye's bulged as he glanced at the figure's on the tiny screen. This... this was insane. With this much money, he could quit the navy, move too Hiigara, buy a prime piece of land and build a mansion, and still have enough left over to buy himself anything he wanted.
Tillus slowly looked up at the still smiling woman sat infront of him, a woman that knew she'd won.
"I think you... understand now, how important this find could be to Kiith Naabal. We cannot allow a chance like this to go to waste. Kiith S'jet cannot be allowed to rule the Daiamid. I think you'll agree, it's in the best intrest of the Republic as a whole, if they do not."
Tillus let out a muffled huff, whilst Raan just stared dumbfoundly at the tiny screen infront of him. There was no way either of them would turn this kind of money down, and Alesha knew it... but still, Tillus couldn't help but feel... uncomfortable, being forced, more or less, to help Kiith Naabal in their quest for power, trying to unsurp Kiith S'jet.
"Admiral, sir, is this alright with you?" Tillus asked quietly.
"Ofcourse." Admiral Rahn answered, his voice laced with irritation. "Do you think I wasn't offered the same amount as you? There's no way a sane man would turn down a sum that large."
The Admiral shook his head, before grabbing the small glass of whiskey off the table and downing it in one gulp. Alesha watched the Admiral, waiting until he was finished drinking before speaking.
"So I assume everything will be set on your end, Admiral?" She soothed, her massive eye's locked on the Admiral's aged features.
Rahn sat the whiskey glass gently back down on the metal table.
"I'll have the paperwork done and sent off by tommorrow's evening, you can have a loan of these two for as long as you need them, as long as no one hears about our little deal here. The last thing I need is Fleet Intelligence breathing down my neck."
"I have alot of connections, Admiral." She replied. "I'll make sure no one finds out about it, I can assure you of that."
Alesha waited until the Admiral nodded his approval, before setting her eye's upon Tillus and Raan once more.
"I want both of you ready to leave tommorrow morning, eleven O'clock standard time, at the latest." She looked around the table. "Anymore questions?"
No one breathed a word. Instead, Tillus and Raan exchanged nervous glances.
"Very well." She continued, rising to her feet. "Enjoy your evening, Gentlemen."
A/N
*Edit* Updated some stuff.
Well, hopefully you enjoyed my second attempt at a decent fanfic. Please Review if you have something to say, both praise and Criticism are both welcomed. If you have any questions or don't want to post a review, feel free to PM me, seriously, I don't usually bite...
Also, a little note. Ship-class names for Homeworld 2 vessels, (i.e the 'Broadsword-class' Battlecruisers) are totally made up. Individual ship names will be a mixture of more english sounding names and more exotic names. (Both naming types were present in the Homeworld series, for example the Khar-Selim or Kuun-Lan, but also more normal names such as Kapella or Pride of Hiigara.)
On Personal names, only characters directly tied to the Kiith's (i.e Alesha Naabal) will have their Kiith names in their name, normal peep's will have kinda randomised second names, just to make it a little clearer.
Ships also have more significant point defence and secondary weapon systems (More inline with the PDS or TFS mods than vanilla homeworld), just because I always felt that, for having such massive (and cool) designs, Homeworld ships were rather devoid of close in weapons. (Missile defence, anti-fighter guns, that kind of thing)
Oh, and just to clarify for a couple of folk, Port Yarmshir is a 'Free-station' which serves as a trade point and rest stop for multiple races, it's not a Hiigaran station.