Title: The Battle of Mindoir
Summary: Lieutenant Zabaleta is sent to Mindoir to stop batarian slavers from attacking the colony. But nothing prepares him for the horrors in store, and he will find out just how much psychological torture he can take before he breaks.
Note: This is my first fiction story, and I decided to make it about Mass Effect because I played and loved the game. It follows the "Colonist" timeline of the game, though how that is relevant to the plot, you'll have to find out for yourself. Please read and review, I plan to upload the next few chapters soon.
Updates: (10/7/09) Sorry I haven't been able to post anything these last few days, I've been a bit busy. Hope to be getting to the next few chapters this weekend.
Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or any of its characters.
Chapter I - Retaliation
The comlink rang, but Ernesto Zabaleta barely opened his eyes.
He groaned and rolled over, looking at the clock by his bed: it was 3:00, galactic standard time. It had taken a while for Zabaleta to get used to the Citadel's default operation clock. After a few weeks, he had considered giving up altogether. But he had eventually grown used to it, and the confusing task of being able to tell the time was the only one he didn't look forward to when he visited his wife and daughter back on Earth.
On human colonies the Alliance used the twenty-four-hour clock of the Terran Coordinated Universal Time, but everything on the Citadel functioned on the GST of a twenty-hour day, subdivided into a hundred minutes of a hundred seconds. In the end, a day in the Citadel was about fifteen percent longer than one on Earth.
Zabaleta preferred to shrug off the whole concept, but nevertheless he opted to have a clock by his bed. It was very early though, and despite years of military training to be able to respond to emergencies regardless of his state or situation, he got grumpy when someone woke him up. He considered simply ignoring it, but given his job he couldn't afford it. If it was an emergency, he could be stripped of his rank for ignoring the call just because he was tired.
After a few seconds, he picked it up. "Yeah?"
"Lieutenant Zabaleta, this is Captain Stone. Get your ass down to the human Embassy; you're going to Mindoir."
"Sir?" Zabaleta asked, confused but now fully awake.
"The human colony in the Attican Traverse is being raided by batarian slavers. Your squad will make up the core of the ground force the ambassador plans to send in."
"With all due respect…"
"Get dressed and up here ASAP, we'll have time for questions later."
"Yes, sir!"
The call disconnected, and Zabaleta put his uniform on. He quickly washed his face and entered the relentless conundrum that was the wards. Even now it was packed, if not more so than usual. Zabaleta knew, however, that the real activity was going on down in bars like Chora's Den, where down-on-their luck civvies drowned their sorrows in alcohol and by staring conspicuously at half-naked asari dancers.
Zabaleta made his way over to the elevator that would take him to the Presidium. He passed by a staircase that led to an as-of-yet empty structure, where he heard a casino was going to be constructed. Between that and Chora's Den, C-Sec would have their hands full.
He arrived in the elevator and activated it, beginning the long ascent to the Presidium. It wasn't half as packed as the wards, because most of the crowd built up during business hours, and although the embassies were always open, waiting at the beck and call of their respective species, not much else was going on. It took him a few minutes to get to the embassies. The receptionist took a quick glance at him, but after looking at his uniform she went back to her work.
He entered the human embassy and went up the stairs. When he knocked on the door to the ambassador's office, he heard a woman's voice say "come in" and he entered.
The ambassador and his captain were already waiting for him, a desk sitting between them. Ambassador Aurora Goyle was sitting behind her desk, looking firm as always, albeit somewhat deprived of her sleep. Zabaleta didn't envy her work: she was tasked with representing the general interests of billions of humans, in the newly founded colonies as well as back on Earth.
He saluted his captain. Matthew Stone stood up and returned the salute. "At ease," he responded. "You sent for me?" Zabaleta asked.
Goyle was a not-unattractive woman in her early fifties, hard-working, bold and dedicated. However, at this time she was regularly catching up on her much needed sleep, and the receptionist was charged with setting up meetings. This made her request even stranger.
If it was a simple raid on human colonies the patrols orbiting the Attican Traverse should be sent to take care of the slavers. It would take a ship leaving the Citadel over an hour to get to Mindoir, and when civilian lives were at stake, the embassy preferred not to take the risk of sending marines from so far away. Even with FTL and the mass relays, it wasn't a particularly short trip.
Captain Matthew Stone was sitting in front of Goyle's desk, with his back to Zabaleta, but twisting his neck to look at him, stern and urgent.
"Take a seat," Goyle said.
He sat down next to the Captain, who said nothing.
"You know why we called you here?" she continued.
"Yes ma'am, though to be frank I'm somewhat confused."
"Understandably so: you are obviously aware of the rapid colonization of the Alliance in the Skyllian Verge."
He nodded. How was this relevant?
"We believe the batarian slavers' attack on Mindoir is an act of retaliation. They stand firmly against our… aggressive colonization."
Ah... the pieces were starting to come together. At least she didn't try to sugarcoat the situation. Humans had a reputation for being ambitious, perhaps overly so, and even considering the fact that they were the newest species in Citadel space, they were intent on playing a bigger role in galactic policy. Their evidently forceful expansion had ticked off a lot of species, especially the batarians, who undoubtedly despised the human race because they represented a threat and menace to their own objectives.
"This could be interpreted as an act of war if the raid isn't handled aptly," Goyle continued. "Our rapid development has spread our forces too thin, spread out. We are not ready for a violent, open conflict against any species."
The captain cut in: "though nothing would give me more pleasure than to show those four-eyed bastards their proper place."
"You are allowed to use force, of course," Goyle said, ignoring him. "But I wanted to personally ask you to be discreet." Zabaleta knew she was emphasizing the importance of prudence. They were to clear out the batarian slavers, but be cautious and attempt no retribution themselves, as the batarians would undoubtedly interpret it as the final act of war, and they would certainly jump at the opportunity.
The batarian forces weren't much more numerous than humanity's, and definitely less organized, but they were itching, just like Zabaleta's captain, to settle their differences on the battlefield.
"Understood," Zabaleta said, but he still had a question, and it must have shown on his expression.
"Yeah?" Goyle said.
"With all due respect ma'am, why not deploy forces near the Attican Traverse? Civilian lives are clearly at stake."
"We have, Lieutenant, but your renowned reputation as a leader will hopefully allow you to explain the vitality of caution, so we need you on Mindoir. Gather your squad and get to the docks right away. Is that clear?"
Yes, Zabaleta had often been described as charismatic. Personally, he didn't give a damn of what anyone outside his command thought, as long as they were on his side, but perhaps it was his relative apathy, but diligence, loyalty and reliability that earned him respect.
"Yes, ma'am!" he said, saluted, and turned to leave.