Homecoming
Region: Throne Worlds
System: Amarr
Planetside: Amarr Prime – Dam-Torsad
The young soldier, turned courier, nearly lost his footing on the glossy, golden colored, stone floor as he came running for all he was worth around a corner. The chamber he was looking for was just ahead, he knew he was getting close by the ever increasing number of Paladins that lined the walls. As he neared the doors he wanted, flanked by a pair of heavily armored Templars, he began to shout frantically.
"Empress! Empress Jamyl!" The soldier flung his shoulder into the doors, forcing them open, and stumbling a few steps into the room. Collapsing to his knees before the chosen of God, the Holy Empress of the Empire of Amarr, the courier spoke his message in a trembling voice, even as the two Templars rounded, leveling their weapons and preparing to fire. A soft spoken order stilled them.
"Be calm and catch your breath." The Empress sat behind a desk of rich dark wood, unperturbed, looking as if young men slamming open doors and collapsing before her was a regular occurrence. The young courier did as was instructed while prostrating himself further, forehead hugging tightly to the floor.
Starting again he repeated the message he had been ordered to carry, "Your Majesty, Grand Admiral Sundara has instructed me to inform you that the Eve Gate has stabilized. Safe travel is now possible. Also, the Admiral has ordered the movement of the First Fleet of Reclamation and the Tenth thru the Fifteenth Fleets into the system of New Eden along with a sizable portion of the Fleet of Inquiry."
The Empress gave only two signs of recognition, the first being a gracefully arched eyebrow at the number of ships and the second was a grin; it was a good day for the Empire. With a dismissive wave of her hand the courier and guards were forgotten.
The courier hurried to his feet and ran from the room, but the Empress was no longer paying any attention. Her gaze had shifted to the massive bay window that dominated the far side of the room. Separated from the Empress by the window were the shining spires and skyscrapers of Dam-Torsad, the Imperial Capital.
For so long her Empire had been fighting to maintain its supremacy, with the younger nations slowly carving out their own futures. Retaking the True Homeworld after so many generations separated from it would cement the future of the Amarr Empire for many years to come.
While many commoners considered it little more than a myth, the upper echelons of the Amarrian leadership knew that the cradle of their species lay just beyond the Eve Gate. Knew that tens of thousands of years ago, their descendants had fled through the Eve Gate to this place, this New Eden. Then they were cut off when the wormhole became violently unstable. So it had stayed for thousands of years.
The Empress could not help but wonder if this was all part of some greater plan in play, events being shaped and molded by the hand of the Almighty. Though, she supposed, it did not really matter. In the end His Will would be done whether or not mere humans, like herself, appreciated the result.
Region: Genesis
System: New Eden
Orbit: New Eden I
When a Minmatar citizen is told an Amarrian Fleet of Reclaiming is on the move, bags are packed and escape routes planned. A single Fleet of Reclaiming alone is an awesome show of might on the part of the Amarr, capable of blockading two or three constellations, and still have the man power to 'convert' entire worlds. It represented the destruction of whole societies through sheer force of will.
The average Amarrian fleet numbers between two and four thousand ships. Not to be confused with the ill-fated squadron of a few hundred destroyed at Vak'Atioth. A Fleet of Reclaiming though is much larger, numbering nearly six thousand. The vaunted First Fleet of Reclamation though is the vanguard of Amarrian forces, larger than any other three Reclaiming Fleets combined. The history of the First Fleet goes back thousands of years to the conquest of the seas of the Amarr homeworld, when it was nothing more than a few fishing boats commanded by a would-be Emperor burning with religious fervor. Whether it was being called God's Fist or the Scourge of Matar, the First Fleet had proven its worth over the centuries. As such it was the most advanced and largest of the Fleets of Reclaiming with over eighteen thousand ships.
So when the listening posts of the other Empires of the cluster detected energy spikes in the New Eden system consistent with thousands of Cynosural Fields opening and tens of thousands of ships poured through, intelligence networks went wild.
Something was afoot and there were curious people who wanted to know what. The first forays toward the system would find the way blocked by Imperial Cynosural Jammers and blockades with everything from Interceptors and Interdictors to Dreadnaughts and Supercarriers. The Imperial Navy was living up to its reputation and keeping even Capsuleers in check.
Region: Local Cluster
System: Sol
73 AU from the star
Here, this great distance from the star, a small, barely detectable distortion sat. This visible distortion 'shivered' and a small ship appeared nearby for a moment as its engines flared and it moved away from the distortion before vanishing from sight again. As it moved away, a cloud of probes, eight in all, were ejected from a small hatch on the back. Soon the probes rotated and accelerated to faster than light speeds in different directions.
Region: Local Cluster
System: Sol
Near Pluto – Sol Mass Relay
The massive gyroscopic rings of the Mass Relay whirled violently as a fleet of ships appeared near it. At the head of the fleet was a frigate with "Normandy" emblazoned in bright white lettering on the side. It was the largest fleet that had ever been assembled in Council space, numbering no fewer than eighty thousand ships.
The chest pounding and military bravado had already finished before the jump was made. All that was left was to start the fight. A trip of nearly forty AU, which would take the ships a few minutes to travel, to reach the outskirts of Earth orbit and engage in what most people were already declaring the 'final battle.' Win or lose, this battle to the death would decide the future of the galaxy.
Region: Genesis
System: New Eden
Orbit: New Eden I
'His Righteous Fury'
Grand Admiral Kezti Sundara is a powerful man. He has many titles and accolades to his name. Greatest of them, in his own opinion, was that he was the commander of the Avatar 'His Righteous Fury,' the newest Titan added to the fleet, and the highest ranking member of the Imperial Navy. He had faithfully served the Empire and God for the better part of three centuries, with no end in sight. Unlike most of his peers, Sundara had come from a small family that had faithfully served Tash-Murkon for centuries. He'd overcome his Ni-Kunni ancestry to rise through the ranks with hard work, sweat, tears, and no small amount of blood.
Finally, it had all paid off. Sundara now stood on the bridge of one of the clusters most powerful warships, as commander of the First Fleet of Reclamation. On one wall a real time link with the cameras of the forward scout that had been sent through the Eve Gate wormhole flared as the ship dropped from warp in orbit of the systems third planet. Their historical records had already confirmed this was Terra, the world all people, even the godless Jovians, had come from tens of thousands of years ago.
Setting up its orbit, the pilot of the Anathema overlaid his probe interface and directional scanner on the camera feed. The covert frigate only had a skeleton crew aboard as it was commanded and flown by a Capsuleer, the word made Sundara grimace. While he accepted their role in the wars of the Empire, he did not trust the Empyreans or their immortality. Sundara had reached his advanced age due to the miracles God allowed modern science to achieve, not because he used clones. Either way, the Empress had decreed that they were to be allowed to fight beneath her banner so Sundara accepted them.
The initial scan of the probes was surprising as it indicated that there were more than one hundred thousand ships in the system, the interface was obviously bogged down with trying to graphically represent the collected information. Even more startling though was how rapidly the directional scanner filled up. The ships were close to the scout ship. Somewhere near the third planet.
Sundara's blood started to rise, he was not a man who wanted to start wars but the adrenaline rush that came from a good fight was always pleasant. Little did he know a great battle was already raging on the far side of the planet.
Region: Local Cluster
System: Sol
Orbit: Earth
Most humans had never seen a full scale space battle. Media had romanticized fantasies about what they were like. Many people fancied visions of fast, frantic, fights that took place with ships bobbing and weaving through space like acrobats or atmospheric fighters. The reality was that space battles were far more boring than that. As the combined fleets of the galactic community closed on Earth the dreadnaughts started to fall behind with the frigates pulling to the fore, the ranks of battle were defining themselves.
The opening shots were made by the Destiny Ascension. Bolts of light streaked across the empty expanse of twenty-five thousand kilometers. Each shot five seconds apart. Forty kilogram slugs slammed into the nearest Sovereign-Class Reaper at nearly three percent the speed of light, delivering over three hundred kilotons of explosive force to its target. The reaper though shrugged it off like a mountain might pebbles being chucked at it.
The fight began in earnest as the other dreadnaughts entered range and added their firepower to the fight. Then the reaper capital ships returned fire. Unlike the Council races though, the Reaper's dreadnaught guns were nearly two kilometers in length and used shells approaching one hundred kilograms at four percent the speed of light. With every round having more than five times the power of the Destiny Ascension, Council ships that were not gutted outright by the first shot would not survive the second.
The attacking forces were not without their small victories. When the collective firepower of the fleet could be focused on a single target, even the Sovereign-class capital ships were no match.
Somewhere among the Citadel dreadnaughts was Steven Hackett, a frown tugging at his features. At times like this the scar running the length of his face began to ache. It was a reminder of a battle lost long ago, of another time when Humanity seemed to be facing its end. Looking out the port window of the CIC his lips curled slightly at the corners, beside his ship was the Turian flagship, bearing their Primarch.
'How far we have come.'
Region: Genesis
System: New Eden
Orbit: New Eden I
'His Righteous Fury'
Sundara watched dispassionately as the two fleets engaged. Jousting at tens of thousands of kilometers, he longed to show them how a real fleet fought. Their eyes on the field had managed to infiltrate the networks of the attacking force and were relaying tactical information about the ships they were seeing and people they belonged to.
The sound of the door opening behind him drew his attention from the screen. Two heavily armored Templars entered and flanked the door; behind them were a squad of Paladins. On the right breast of each soldier was the seal of the Sarum Family.
'The Empress is here?' Sundara thought, confused, and moments later the woman herself entered.
"Admiral, I hope you are well?" The Empress smiled.
Sundara answered with a slight bow, "I am well, Majesty. Thank you for your concern."
She waved him off, as though her show of concern was nothing to note, "Admiral, I have reviewed the information. That world there is the planet from which our species first drew breath. It will be a jewel for the entire cluster to envy and a place of pilgrimage for the faithful."
Sundara's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to wrap his mind about what his ruler was talking about. "What would you have me do, Majesty?"
"Conquer it. Anyone who opposes you is to be burned to ash as the heathens they are."
Sundara bowed again, more deeply. "Your wish…"
Inside, he was excited. 'I will get to show them how a real fleet fights.'
Region: Genesis
System: New Eden
Near Eve Gate
'His Righteous Fury'
The "jump range," as Capsuleers called it, of wormholes was normally only five kilometers but the Eve Gate was no normal wormhole. With the Eve Gate the area of visibly distorted space was nearly fifty kilometers in diameter and the "jump range" had a radius of roughly seventy-five kilometers. The largest normal wormholes could stand the transit of only a few capital class ships. None of them could transit even a single super capital.
Sundara, curious to see what the scientists had figured about the Eve Gate, wanted to know what the wormhole before them would allow. They started to read off equations and quoting figures, Sundara was pretty sure he heard something about quantum mechanics and theories of parallel universes. The lead scientist, seeing the glazed look he was getting stopped talking and punched some more numbers into his computer before speaking again.
"Admiral, you could jump forty thousand Avatar class titans through that wormhole before making a dent in it."
Nodding his thanks, and messaging his temples, Sundara left the room. The orders had already been given and the First Fleet of Reclaiming was already trying to compress themselves into the, relatively, small space around the wormhole.
Waiting in orbit of New Eden were several hundred Conversion ships, each of the massive ships was the length of a supercarrier but with nearly three times the mass. Each ship carried a quarter million soldiers and priests who could be deployed to the surface in massive landing barges.
Sundara had also seen fit to have three more fleets deployed into the area, they wouldn't arrive until after the First Fleet transited the wormhole. In the off chance they needed the back up and to bolster the defenses. It was also to keep the spies of the younger empires from reaching the New Eden system. It really would not do to have the Gallente or, Almighty forbid it, the Minmatar try and usurp this discovery.
Having returned to the Command area of the ship Sundara paused to view the fleet arrayed before his eyes. It was a truly magnificent and awesome sight. A slight smirk touched his face as a thought came to his mind, 'No other Empire can match our forces, nor can the vaunted capsuleer alliances.'
Standing before his command console, Sundara opened a channel to every Imperial Navy ship within five jumps. He cleared his throat softly and made a silent prayer.
"Soldiers of God! Her Majesty the Empress has tasked us with a glorious mission. We stand at the cusp of a great event in the history of our Holy Empire. It is an event that many of you will be able to look back on fondly and say with reverence, 'I was there!'"
The Admiral paused a moment as a multitude of voices took up the cheer aboard his own ships, the sound vibrating through the hull. As the last echo of the cheer quieted down he continued, "Thousands of years ago our forefathers fled their homeworld to escape religious persecution. Today we will return to that homeworld as harbingers of the Almighty and the vanguard of His righteousness.
"We will rain a holy, cleansing fire down upon all that stand against us and cast the ashes of our fallen foes to the void. We will erase them from the annuls of history. Then, once we have retaken this world we will embark soon enough to spread the word of Our Lord to the nonbelievers, heathens, and infidels; be it through conversion or conflagration!"
Sundara paused only for a moment to catch his breath; speeches full of vim and verve really were a thing for the young. "Now, Holy Warriors, look about you and take strength from your fellow believers. Know that you may not survive the coming conflict, but take heart! Pray and seek out the nearest priest if you need confession or ablution of sins. Your piety will lead you to Heaven and the presence of the Almighty. We leave in ten minutes."
Sundara sat in his command chair and set a timer while he continued to watch the unfolding battle and planning his attack.
Region: Local Cluster
System: Sol
Orbit: Earth
'SSV Kilimanjaro'
Space battles were never fast. As a boy Admiral Hackett's father had shown him ancient and hokey films called "Star Wars", whose vision of what a space battle was like was closer to what fighter pilots might encounter. For larger ships it was more like the wars of Ancient Greece when a pair of Phalanxes engaged. The two forces would push against each other trying to wear the other side down, to sap their stamina, and break their spirits forcing a retreat. It was exceedingly difficult to hit a moving target in space at ten thousand kilometers, even one that was two kilometers in length.
This particular battle was no different. But it was not going well. Already they had lost several thousand ships while the reapers had lost fewer than one hundred. One would think that in a battle were the forces were of such disparate numbers as eighty thousand against twelve thousand the larger force would always win but that simply was not true.
They were fighting in two proverbial bottlenecks at the same time. The first being a bottleneck of technology. The Citadel fleets were outmatched and outgunned at every turn. They were trading twelve or fifteen ships for every Reaper that was killed. An unacceptable and unsustainable rate of attrition.
The second bottleneck was in fact one of 'terrain'. Or rather the fact that the Reapers were fighting with the Earth to their backs. This meant that the Citadel Fleet had to pick their shots carefully, else they risked hitting the planet. Orbital strikes against the Earth were unacceptable, if they were avoidable. Unfortunately, Hackett knew what had to be done.
Contemplating the thought made his gut tighten and for an instant he was back at the academy. The instructor was quizzing them on famous orders by centuries gone naval commanders. The last student had gotten an easy one, Admiral David Farragut. That wasn't the one Hackett had to answer. His had been Rear Admiral Robert Jaujard.
Hackett's clenched fist bounced with nervous energy against the arm of his chair. He knew the order he had to give, he was the only one that could.
"Open a channel, all allied ships." Hackett paused only a moment while the command was carried out. He took the moment to steel his resolve. The battle raged on and this was the only thing left that could influence the outcome. It was an order even the Turian's had not been willing to issue in defense of Palaven. The other commanders had all agreed the battle might come to this but had left the final decision in his hands. Hackett cleared his throat as the Comm Officer gave him a thumbs up.
"Another human Admiral fighting for the future of his people once said, 'it is a terrible and monstrous thing to have to fire on our homeland but I want you to do it this day.' Your new orders are; hold nothing back, do not hesitate, if it means putting Earth at risk then so be it. Cities can be rebuilt but extinction is permanent. You know what needs done."
'May God have mercy on my soul,' Was Hackett's silent prayer.
Region: Genesis
System: New Eden
Near Eve Gate
'His Righteous Fury'
The time was slowly ticking down on the clock Grand Admiral Sundara had set. There were only a few seconds left. Navigators and pilots across the fleet readied the energy pulse that would suck them into the wormhole. As the clock ticked down priests said their last prayers over their flocks, which were running to and fro checking their stations. As the clock hit zero they jumped.
Region: Local Cluster
System: Sol
73 AU from the star
'His Righteous Fury'
As the fleet reappeared on the far side of the wormhole they aligned, as they had been ordered, to the third planet. Sundara waited only a few moments while the larger ships in the fleet got to full speed before he punched in the commands and the entire fleet accelerated together.
Sundara's plan was to attack the defending force first. The anathema's passive scans had told them that while the defenders were technologically superior to the attacking "Council races" they should not have the any defenses against their lasers. The larger force would not either for that matter but it had been determined that among their ranks were humans, whereas the defenders were not. He would give the humans a choice.
Region: Local Cluster
System: Sol
Orbit: Earth
'SSV Kilimanjaro'
The tide had turned, ever so slightly, in favor of the attacking forces since Hackett had issued his change in standing orders concerning the Earth and possible collateral damage. The attrition rate was still high but not insurmountable. The trade was now eight or ten ships for every Reaper. A flash from the port side drew his attention, one of their Dreadnaughts had taken a strike.
Hackett closed his eyes for a moment. It was the SSV Orizaba that had just taken a glancing blow and was venting atmosphere. Admiral Hannah Shepard had insisted on assuming command of the vessel for this fight. She reasoned that if her son could fight on the surface of their homeworld, fighting in orbit was the least she could do.
'A selfless family, if ever there was one.' Hackett thought while whispering a silent prayer. He was not a religious man but there was some truth to old saying about no atheists in foxholes. Well, CIC was his foxhole and today he was no atheist.
"Sir! New contacts!" A tech called from his right.
"Is it Shield Fleet?" Hackett knew they had entered the system with the Crucible in tow but it should still be twenty minutes before they arrived.
"No sir, but there are a lot of them, nearly twenty thousand. And they are right on top of the Reaper fleet. The trajectory suggests they have come in from somewhere well off the ecliptic plane of the rest of the solar system." Then the tech trailed off muttering about his instruments being broken.
Hackett was worried that it might be another force of Reapers coming as back up. "Show them to me."
The main screen lit up and one of the forward cameras panned and zoomed in. The tech was right; it was a very large fleet. But it was a fleet of golden skinned ships many of which were the size of dreadnoughts and many more were even larger. At his side he heard the tech muttering still about how his instruments were telling him that there were stations with them. As the words registered with Hackett he saw them, hidden among the clouds of smaller ships. Behemoths that made even the Sovereign class Reapers look tiny. The astounding thing was the sheer number of them; at least twenty-five of these titanic ships were on the field. From where he was looking the main gun on these ships was a massive golden glowing maw that Hackett was sure his own dreadnought might fit comfortably in.
Then it happened. Golden light caught his attention and he ordered one of the station sized ships centered on the screen. Lines of energy rippled across the front of the ship, coalescing into a pulsating golden orb directly in front of the golden maw.
The Communications officer to his left spoke up suddenly, "Sir, I'm picking up a broadcast on an open channel. It's coming from the ship on the screen. Patching it through."
A voice cut through the air, tinged with age. It was a voice familiar with command and would brook no dispute. A voice filled with assurance and confidence that those listening would not dare to not pay attention.
"Infidels who would dare attack the homeworld of our Holy forefathers. We have been ordered by Her Majesty, Empress Jamyl Sarum the First, of the Holy Empire of Amarr to send you demons back to whatever Hell you crawled out of. Know that if you resist, this is but a fraction of the power we can bring to bear on you and your ilk. Before you perish, know that I am Grand Admiral Kezti Sundara of the Imperial Navy, Commander of 'His Righteous Fury', and the bringer of God's Devine wrath… Delieverer… of… His… Judgment!"
Hackett sat back in horror – or was it awe? – as golden spear of light lanced out from the orb that had formed and impacted the nearest Reaper capital ship. For a moment it did not seem to have done anything and Hackett felt a leaden weight sink in his stomach, maybe this Grand Admiral had underestimated the Reapers. He would not be the first.
Then the stricken Reaper began to pulse as fractures appeared in the hull, pouring out golden light, before finally exploding. A shockwave of golden energy spread out from the wreckage and physically crushed the hulls of several smaller Destroyer-class Reapers that had been nearby. The bridge erupted with sound as the crew cheered. They were not the first Reapers to die in this fight but they were the most spectacular.
Even ten thousand kilometers distant, Hackett could see as the space between the Reapers and these Amarr was lit up brilliantly by thousands of lasers and repeated strikes of "God's Devine wrath" by the other ships similar to 'His Righteous Fury.' It was a massacre.
Up close the Reapers were out matched. While the Amarr ships it seemed had barely any shielding, the Reapers own laser weapons were barely hurting.
Hackett's terminal chimed as Primarch Victus hail him. Unable to contain his joy at the sight before him Hackett had a smile on his face as the channel opened.
"Hello Primarch. An interesting change, no?"
"Admiral," the Primarch's voice was hesitant. "I am worried about these new comers. They referred to Earth as their homeworld. What will you do if they won't simply let you have it? We can see already that we stand no chance against them."
Hackett, sobered by that thought, looked up as another group of Reaper ships died with brilliant explosions. "I don't know Primarch… I just don't know."
Region: Local Cluster
System: Sol
Orbit: Earth
'His Righteous Fury'
Sundara yawned as the fight unfolded before him. He had thought this would be an interesting fight but as it turned out the large squid like ships were only good at range. The deck plating rumbled underfoot as the "Doomsday" device fired again, swatting a heretic vessel from sight. This fight was turning into an event of 'shooting slaves in a pit.' It took no skill, no finesse.
It was boring.
Back in New Eden the Conversion ships were moving into position to jump. The homeworld below them would be theirs one way or another. An oddly placed flash on the screen drew his attention and he said a quiet prayer as an Abaddon-class battleship succumbed to its wounds. Their ships might have been superior but it did not mean they were invincible. The Minmatar were a perfect example of that: heathens that just would not convert nor, at the very least, roll over and die.
The fight had only lasted a few minutes and already the twelve thousand strong defending fleet had been reduced to less than three hundred.
Looking at the information pad in his hand, Sundara glossed over the data their scout had compiled after hacking one of the outlying Comm Bouys. A place with actual, true xenos. Would the Almighty accept the worship of xenos? Tech that was about a thousand years out of date. Moving on to military information he learned who the human commander was and passed an order to the scout to dig a little deeper and find which ship that commander was on. This 'Hackett,' the name sounded too Caldari for Sundara's tastes, was the man he'd have to address when the time came.
Sundara set the pad down before he stretched his arms and began to pace. Moments later a young cleric, turned messenger boy, rushed into the command center and called to him, his voice growing softer as he approached.
"My Lord Admiral, we have a problem. The science team that stayed behind to monitor the wormhole are reporting that it is showing signs that is about to become unstable again, current estimate is within the next hour. They have already relayed these finding to the Empress, Her Majesty has…" He trailed off, hesitant to continue.
"Spit it out boy!" Sundara was furious; he suspected what the Empress had to say.
Startled at the vehemence of the statement the young man stuttered, "H-H-Her Majesty has ordered the fleet to return at once."
A moment later his communications officer announced that a recall order was coming across the channel reserved for Imperial mandates and orders.
Sundara knew it was not worth getting any angrier over it than he was. "Alright. New orders to the fleet, we finish up these heathens and leave the planet to the other fleet. It's their homeworld as well. Order 'red' on all siege and triage cycles. Start aligning the fleet out. As soon as the cycles end and the last of the enemy are dead, warp the fleet back to the wormhole and jump on contact."
The Grand Admiral began to sit down when his pad chimed, drawing his attention. A glance changed his mind about sitting. Heading for the door he commented in passing, "I'll be in my quarters."
Region: Local Cluster
System: Sol
Orbit: Earth
'SSV Kilimanjaro'
Hackett had seen lots of battles in his time but never had he seen ships die like fish in a barrel, an appropriate comparison especially considering the squid like appearance of Reaper ships. Three thousand Reaper capital ships and roughly nine thousand destroyers, but it did not matter in the face of the Amarrian lasers. Lasers that had cut through the Reaper ships like hot knives, then there were those gigantic ships, which were estimated at between thirteen and fourteen kilometers in length, with their 'Judgment' weapon that was capable of killing a single Sovereign-class Reaper with each shot.
"Admiral," the communications officer spoke up again, "I'm picking up chatter between the 'Amarrian' ships. What little we can understand it looks like they've been ordered to fall back to a 'wormhole' of some kind."
The Tactical officer spoke up, "I concur sir, some of their larger ships which have been immobile for most of the fight have started their engines and are beginning to wheel around, as are many of the smaller ships. They seem to be headed back in the direction they appeared from."
Hackett's brow came together, what a strange thing to do. A chime on his console drew his attention. A text message had been sent to him from an unknown source.
'Admiral Hackett, I hope our translation software gets this right. Her Majesty, the Empress, has decided to show pity on your poor souls. Due to the nature of our arrival in this system we can no longer stay as it would mean being cut off from the Empire. Had we more time, we would have conquered the homeworld we were driven from all those thousands of years ago. Best of luck in your war and may God's light guide you to a victorious end. Amarr Victor!'
It was signed simply as from 'Sundara.' There would be time enough to figure out what it all meant later. Hackett chuckled and forwarded a copy to Primarch Victus.
The last of the Reaper forces in orbit of Earth died violently and with less than a whimper. While the light from the explosion was fading the Amarrian fleet accelerated in an odd direction and vanished from sight a moment later. As the last of the ships left the field, the arms of the Citidel, the enormous stations presence largely overlooked, began to open.
A report from Shepard and Anderson came in that they had faced little in the way of resistance after the planet side destroyer had been taken care of. It seemed that the Crucible's systems were already starting to interface with the Citadel's and they would be able to fire an energy pulse that would be amplified by the mass effect engines of the Mass Relays and fry the neural nets of the Reapers in all corners of the galaxy.
Another smile was brought to Hackett's face as word came through that Admiral Shepard was alive and well aboard the Orizaba.
One thing though bothered Hackett about the Amarrian forces, their claim that they had been driven from Earth thousands of years ago, but humanity had only been in space for less than three centuries. Hackett just shrugged the thought away, a token search would have to be made just to be careful, in the end it did not matter where they came from. They had swooped in, saved the day, and then left. As a soldier, Hackett knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Region: Genesis
System: New Eden
Orbit: New Eden I
'His Righteous Fury'
Sundara had returned to the Command Deck soon after sending off his message. Aside from the few losses to those "Reapers" and several ships too slow in initiating warp away from the Eve Gate as the wormhole once again became unstable, the fleet was safe. The old Admiral though was peeved that they had not had more time, retaking the True Homeworld would have been a major coup for the Amarr Empire. Not to mention a very pretty feather for his own hat.
A note had come from the Empress as soon as she was informed of their safe return. In which she sympathized with his desire to do his nation, and the Almighty, proud, but her first priority was to the safety of the Empire and losing a so many ships to something so easily avoidable would have been inexcusable.
Her note ended with a sentiment that made him grin. 'Besides,' she had written, 'there is always next time.'
A/N: This tale came about after reading a series of EVE/(insert game) crossovers where the author(s) had EVE Empires swoop in and save the day. One was an underdeveloped attempt, which while intriguing, reached for too much and subsequently read like an over done outline. I've always liked Amarr ships and decided that I wanted them to be the big heroes for once, even if they had less than heroic intentions.
It took me a while to come up with a way to bridge the ME universe and the EVE universe. For the last five years of playing EVE the majority of my time has been spent in wormhole space and one day I found myself jumping through a wormhole into the New Eden system, home of the EVE Gate.
From there I found myself looking into the EVE Timeline and tossed around some idea about connecting the two. Everything from Prothean intervention (actually had a line from the Empress to that effect, I took it out) to a Halo-esque 'humanity devolved' tens of thousands of year ago. In the end I left it up in the air for good reason, it's outside the scope of this story.
As for the ending of ME3 I decided to go with the indoctrination theory, in a roundabout way. I figured that if Harbinger was too busy getting whooped by frickin' lazor beams then he'd be too busy to stop the assault by Hammer on the transporter beam… thing… in London. And I got rid of the Starchild because we all know he was a figment of Harbinger's imagination.
Finally, before anyone nerd rages at me, the style of fighting I tried to depict for the Reapers against the Council forces. They are as described in the ME Codex, not how it's shown in the cut scenes. If you don't like it, go watch Star Wars.
Feb 26, 2016 Edit: Corrected a formatting issue that was annoying me.