Chapter 2: Reconciliation
The chambers of the Citadel Council were as ostentatious as they were imposing. Everything about the room was specifically designed to impress upon the viewer that the inhabitants were important. Real, live trees filled each tier of the enormous, vaulted cavern, flanking the long continuous stairway that ran from the room's only public entrance to the Council's platform. The entire chamber was a calculated statement of power. No petitioner could possibly deny the influence of the Citadel Council.
The Turian rushing through the room did not even notice it. He pushed past everything in his way and skittered to a stop just away from the Council. "Sir! Councillor Octavian, sir!" The Turian Councillor's mandibles tightened in anger as he regarded the thoroughly disheveled example of his species.
"Yes?" He tried to keep his voice calm, but everyone present could hear his distaste for the hapless messenger. The messenger was cowed briefly, but rallied, leaning forward to whisper to the Councillor. A moment passed. "WHAT?!" Anger and worry was clear in his tone. The whispering continued as his fellow Councillors glanced at each other warily. Octavian was not one to show either without cause. The Turian turned to regard his Asari and Salarian colleagues. In a much more controlled voice, he said, "I'm sorry, but something has just come up. I need to address this personally."
"Would this have anything to do with one of your patrol vessels coming back full of holes?" Councillor Jaroll asked casually with a blink of his enormous eyes. Tevos started, shooting an alarmed look at both of her fellow Councillors. Octavian glared at the Salarian.
"How do you know about that?"
"My dear Octavian, you really should have realized by now. I know everything."
Octavian made a noise of resigned disgust. "Spirits-cursed STG." The Turian glanced around, clearly looking for a way out of the coming conversation, and just as clearly not finding one. A moment later, he sighed heavily. "Yes. One of our patrols just returned from Relay-314. The ship that returned was the only survivor."
"By the goddess..." Tevos let out in a quiet breath. "What happened?"
"The patrol encountered unknown vessels attempting to activate the Relay." Octavian began. "They engaged and destroyed the ships as per standard procedure. The captain calculated their probable origin and decided to investigate. As they were leaving, the patrol was ambushed and destroyed by over 400 fighters, a dozen cruisers and two dreadnoughts."
Heavy silence filled the chamber. Even Jaroll was stunned into silence. "Exactly. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to prepare my people." Octavian turned to leave.
"Wait! You're not truly planning for war are you?" Tevos' voice brought the Turian to a stop.
Octavian rounded on the Asari. "And why wouldn't I? These aliens flaunted Citadel law, then turned around and killed good Turians for doing their job. You suggest I just let it go?!"
Tevos glared at the stubborn idiot. "I'm suggesting that your people initiated First Contact by shooting at them! Of course they're going to shoot back." Octavian returned the glare with equal ire. "We should at least attempt peaceful contact before you plunge us all into war!" The pair stared each other down for several minutes, neither willing to budge.
"I must side with Tevos on this," The Salarian Councillor's voice cut through the tension like a knife. Octavian took a moment to process his statement then glared at his other colleague as well. Jaroll blithely ignored it as he flicked through a datapad. "According to the reports, these aliens exhibited extremely advanced technology in realms we did not even believe possible. Their mastery of direct energy weapons and teleportation of all things would put us at a severe disadvantage should it come to conflict."
"Wha- How do you keep knowing these things?!" Octavian's shock at the blatant violation of Hierarchy information security briefly outweighed his ire at the situation. Jaroll's smug grin did not make it any better. He visibly recollected himself and sighed heavily. "Very well. We'll send an envoy, but once they're butchered, I will be sending in the fleet."
Captain Hackett marched into the O'Connell's research laboratory like he owned it. "What've you got, doctor?" Marcaeus rose from his terminal and turned to face his superior.
"Quite a lot," he began. "These aliens have proven to be highly lucrative sources of information. To start, the aliens themselves. They are a predatory species, distinctly avian in nature. Mostly humanoid, with three fingered hands and feet tipped by claws. The most interesting part of their physical bodies is their exoskeleton." Hackett's gaze suddenly became interested. "Unfortunately, it's far too brittle to stand as armor."
The captain's brows furrowed. "What makes it so special then?"
"Because it is an incredible natural radiation shield. I can only theorize that their homeworld is awash in radiation, probably solar, to produce such a thing. If we could work out a way to integrate these properties into our current alloys, I imagine we could see our infantry all but immune to radiological attacks."
Hackett whistled. "Impressive. Get some of your people on it. What about their technology?"
"That is the most exciting thing about this," The doctor was visibly vibrating with restrained enthusiasm. "These aliens wield a mastery of element zero beyond our wildest imaginings. As you can imagine, the first thing we examined was the captured ships' faster than light capabilities. As far as our research has shown, and this is backed by our interrogations, they use the enormous machine I mentioned during the attack to create a mass effect field surrounding the craft." Marcaeus' eyes lit with an unholy fire. "This field casually alters one of the fundamental aspects of reality! They do not go faster than light; they make light go faster!"
"What?" Hackett was stunned. A small voice in his head started giggling. If you can't go faster than light, make light go faster! It all makes sense now! "Ho- How is that possible?"
Marcaeus' expression soured at the question, into what on any other individual would be called a pout. "We do not know yet. The current theory is that the field somehow gives photons negative mass, but retains their energy and thus they move faster. I have my best people working on the smaller ship's mass effect core as we speak. As soon as I know something, you will too."
"Excellent, good work. Anything else?"
"Yes, actually." The doctor's response surprised the man. XCOM researchers are good, but two breakthroughs of that scale in less than a week was impressive, even for them. "We have discovered how their shields work." Hackett felt a jolt of relief at the admission. "They use very small emitters placed throughout the armor or hull to project special mass effect fields. These fields stop any object with sufficient kinetic energy. Anything that moves slowly enough would be able to pass through with ease."
"How slow are we talking about doctor?"
"Very. To the point where any plasma we fire would disperse before it gets to the target. It is not feasible to bypass them that way." Hackett turned a glare on his subordinate. "But, the shields only stop objects with sufficient kinetic energy. Radiation and energy, especially in the form of lasers, goes through completely unmolested." A grim smile made its way to the captain's features with the news. They could still fight them. "Laser weaponry will be the key to defeating them in space. On the ground however, we may not even need to bother."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that their shields only protect against kinetic impacts, but they ignore radiation. From the recovered corpses and our own experiments, it seems that our plasma weaponry is almost as effective against their infantry as it would be without the shields. Most of the samples killed during the battle died from severe burns. I can only conclude that the heat generated by our plasma fire continued past the shield and, to borrow a phrase, 'cooked them in their own armor'"
"That's... surprisingly good news doctor." Marcaeus made a noncommittal motion of acceptance. "Can we integrate it with the Titan Armor system?"
"We can. Unfortunately, the shield emitters require exacting placement for full coverage, which overlaps with the armor plating to a significant degree. We will need to strip armor from a number of sensitive areas to account for it."
"Damn," Hackett scowled thunderously. "Can you make modular packages for it? I'm sure the boys would appreciate being given the choice." The doctor blinked suddenly.
"That gives me an idea." The doctor started, drawing Hackett's full attention. "Theoretically, if we were to mount an emitter array in the proper arrangement, we could simulate a riot shield."
Hackett's eyes widened. "You have my attention doctor."
"We could make a forearm module for the Titan Armor system with that array. The soldiers could then use it as a mobile shield when needed with minimal loss of armor." A savage grin spread across Hackett's lips.
"Make it happen." The captain nodded once and proceeded to ask the one question he really didn't want the answer to.
"Now, do we know anything about why they came after us?"
"Not as much as I would like," Marcaeus scowled fiercely in the general direction of the holding facilities. "They call themselves Turians and as far as we can tell they are the enforcers of some kind of multi-species galactic government. We are going through their ships' computers, but without a translator we cannot get much from it." The doctor walked over to his terminal, motioning for Hackett to follow. "The only thing we could extract from their leader in that regard is this image." The wall above the desk blinked into life, a grainy image taking up residence there. A space station of some description took up the entire image, floating serenely before its purple-white background. Five long arms stretched from a connecting ring on one end. Corruscating strips of light ran the length of each arm, describing serpentine paths from ring to tip. It was a majestic sight, and it filled Hackett with raw, primal dread. "They call it the Citadel."
Hackett burst onto the bridge a few minutes later, snapping orders like they were going out of style. "We will be remaining on station here for the foreseeable future. Contact every colony within a hundred lightyears, I want pickets from every one as far out as they can get. If the x-rays so much as sneeze in our direction, I want to know about it. And someone get high command on the horn."
The bridge exploded with activity and the telltale purple flare of psionics. Captain Hackett moved to his chair just off the center of the room, mentally preparing himself for the coming briefing. The Commander was not going to like this. Not a moment after Hackett settled into his chair, the square visage of the Supreme Commander of XCOM appeared on a display to his right. He swung the terminal to the front of his chair and began to relay what Marcaeus' team had discovered.
"I won't mince words, Captain. This is bad." The Commander's throaty growl crackled out of the terminal. "You have performed admirably so far, but this is just the beginning. The Pettachi and Yamaguchi have been reassigned to stand-by at the Shanxi gate. Since you are the only one with experience against this threat, they and the Legetho will be under your command. Congratulations, Commodore."
That was a lot of pressure. Hackett swallowed heavily, collected himself and nodded sharply. "Understood, sir. I'll do my best."
"Good man. We're counting on you to keep our worlds safe. I've already assigned the second and fourth scout fleets to finding the... Turians'," the Commander mulled over the word for a moment as if tasting it. "Point of origin. We will be going on the offensive the instant they have news." The Commander saluted sharply and Hackett returned it before the terminal went blank. The captain stood and stepped up to the holographic display. A moment's careful study of the map laid the beginnings of a plan, and he began barking orders.
"We're staying here, in sight of the Relay. I want the Pettachi here, and the Yamaguchi here," He indicated two points on the map such that, including the O'Connell's position, they would form a massive triangle with the Relay just past its point. "In case the bastards slip past us. The Legetho is to remain within combat range of the gate at all times. We can't risk them destroying it." Hackett relaxed slightly as his orders were conveyed. They were as ready as they could be for another attack.
The recently appointed commodore was bored. Sentry duty against the end of the human race was a tense assignment, but one could only keep up that level of focus for so long. Two weeks of constant, unceasing tension would drain anyone, especially when the aliens hadn't so much as farted at them since the original attack. No one had seen a single scale from the blasted Turians, and none of the scouting reports were particularly promising. It was like they'd appeared out of nowhere and then disappeared just as suddenly afterwards. For a man like Hackett, such silence was as unnerving as it was frustrating.
There were upsides to inactivity though. Doctor Marcaeus had made great strides with the captured technology. The new shield module design had been finished the day after his conversation with the good doctor, and the boys in engineering had spent the week since making as many as they possibly could. Another week and every single one of the thirty thousand infantrymen aboard the O'Connell would have one available.
The good doctor had even mentioned they may have a prototype conventional FTL drive by the end of the mon- The sudden blare of alarms cut through Hackett's distraction and left his ears ringing. The commodore exploded to his feet and consulted the central display. A craft had just been registered at the edge of their sensors. The ship flew through space at a frankly astonishing pace before coming to a halt at the site of the battle against the Turians. It was a small vessel, no more than thirty meters long, but almost double that wide. The ship took the shape of an eye, complete with a pupil in the form of an enormous hole that reached all the way through it. From the emissions, it appeared the hole served as an omnidirectional reaction drive. Clever. Around the hole was a construction of graceful, swooping lines, guiding the eye to the hole or to the side, where a full third of the ship on either side reached out in small, fragile-seeming spires. "What am I looking at sensors?"
"Unknown sir," the psionic currently manning the sensor station replied, his voice tired. "It uses the same method of FTL, but the design is completely different from the other ships."
Hackett leaned further into the display, glaring at the hologram. "What the hell are you up to?" he murmured, sure that this was a trap of some sort. The vessel floated serenely next to the Relay, waiting for something. They had to know they were being watched after their last stunt. Why would they just sit there?
Hackett's head told him it was a trap, but his gut said there was something more to this. It just didn't make sense. Maybe they were trying to lure out a carrier? But he'd have to be insane to bring the O'Connell anywhere near an unknown, and they most likely had no way of knowing the carriers existed in the first place. It might be an attempt to suss out more of their military capacity, but why would he show more to deal with less?
Nothing about this situation made any sense. Why would you attack someone then send in a smaller, less obviously defended vessel to the exact same spot after you lose? Unless... maybe it's not them. The ships were very different after all. This ship may be from a third party, an enemy of the Turians who heard about the battle. Yes, that made sense. Hell, they may even be looking for allies against them. Hackett snorted. That'd be too easy.
It was almost certainly a trap, but Hackett couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this. His brow furrowed for a moment and he made his decision. "Get Sword-1 in the air, then prep a Starranger with a first contact package. They're gonna go meet this thing." Every living thing on the bridge stared at the man like he had lost his mind. He chuckled briefly. "I think this ship may be an enemy of the Turians looking for friends. It's dangerous, but I'm not going to risk starting a two-front war." Techs glanced at each other uneasily, but couldn't refute his logic. "Load up the Starranger, minimal personnel. I just want to see if they'll try to talk. Tell Sword-1 to stay ready. If this thing proves hostile, I want it dead before it can fire a shot."
The chosen Starranger and its escorts flew smoothly through the newly opened portal without fanfare, emerging less than a dozen kilometers from the alien vessel. It had remained remarkably calm during the whole process however, its only response to minimize its profile to the portal. Sword-1 spread out into a cordon around the vessel with a score of plasma cannons trained on the alien ship, ready to tear it apart at the slightest sign of aggression. The tension on the bridge of the O'Connell rose with every passing moment of inactivity. Everyone knew the aliens were going to attack, it was only a matter of when.
Sweat began to bead on Hackett's brow as he watched the alien vessel, taut as a bow and ready for anything. The alien ship astonished the human crew however, by transmitting short staccato bursts over several radio frequencies. A single burst, then two back-to-back, then three, then five, then it paused for a moment and the whole pattern repeated itself. "Is that... Fibonacci?" one of the bewildered human technicians wondered aloud.
Hackett felt some of the tension slowly seep out of his shoulders. At least they appear to want to talk. "Cut in the next time they finish with the next step in the sequence. Eight bursts," he ordered the pilot of the contact craft. The pilot complied as the aliens finished cycling through. The ship went silent for a moment, then an enormous holographic image appeared before it. In it floated a model of the alien craft and a red orb. The ship in the image suddenly became a blue orb, identical save for color to the red one, before the two came together, becoming a purple color in the middle of the image. It paused, then the animation repeated itself.
"Huh," Hackett mused aloud. "Looks like they want a face-to-face." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he considered. They'd have to meet in person eventually, and there'd been no signs of aggression from this new craft, whatever it was. Still, that's no reason to take unnecessary risks. Hackett made his decision. "Tell the x-rays to stay put then bring the 'ranger back to pick up the contact team. Sword-1, stay on that thing, it doesn't move without my say-so." He turned to the inter-ship comms. "Strike-1 get to briefing room one." Hackett turned to leave, but not before calling to one of the bridge techs. "Lieutenant Torres, with me." The comm psi unlinked herself from the FTL communications array and followed her commander to the briefing room.
The Starranger activated the most crucial part of the first contact package, unfolding a holographic emitter directly connected to the O'Connell, where they could manufacture images and animation in short order. The emitter activated, filling space with an image of the Starranger and a 3D model of the alien vessel pulled from the hyperwave relay. In the image, the human craft turned and flew off, and the alien vessel remained stationary. A series of dots appeared, each fading in order. When the last dot vanished, the human craft reappeared. The animation reset, but when the human ship left this time, the alien one tried to follow. It exploded violently a moment later. The pair of animations looped three more times before the Starranger folded the holographic emitter closed and vanished back through a wormhole.
As the transport tried to explain the situation to the aliens, Hackett was briefing his newly-formed contact team. "These aliens appear to be a new species," Hackett started, laying things out for the ground team. "Their ship design doesn't match anything we've seen before, and they're not shooting at us. We, I believe they are a third party, looking for what busted up that group of Turians." Murmurs broke out among the soldiers for a moment in their surprise, before discipline re-asserted itself. "They have indicated they wish a face-to-face, and I want to send you. You are the best we've got, and if this is a trap, I expect you to reverse it on them." The room nodded as one. "Torres, you're the point of contact. Priority is getting past the language barrier. The rest of you are to ensure that if this does go sour, you all get back alive. Understood?"
"Sir, yes sir," came the response from the seven veteran soldiers. Hackett nodded sharply and sent them to meet the contact boat. He returned to the bridge a moment later, relieved to see that the aliens had the sense to not move.
A few minutes passed as the Starranger returned and Strike-1 loaded into it. Hackett watched anxiously as the small transport returned to the alien craft. Maybe humanity would actually have a friend among the stars for once. He considered for a moment. Nah, the universe wasn't that kind.
"Well, that's disturbing," Matriarch Teloni said as she watched the aliens' animation of her ship, the ARS Oraeli, exploding for the third time.
"Err... At least they're not shooting yet?" Teloni's adjutant spoke from her position to the Matriarch's left, in equal parts attempted reassurance and shocked confusion. Teloni let out a gentle laugh.
"There is that at least." She sighed wistfully as the hologram faded and the alien ship disappeared into another of those ludicrous wormholes. She studied the movement of the alien fighters as they circled around her like vultures and felt fear stir deep in her breast. "I just hope they're amenable to peace."
One of the fighters flew past the camera both asari were using to watch the aliens at that instant, underslung cannons glowing a bright green. The assistant gulped. "They're doing a very good job of making me think otherwise."
"Thalia," the Matriarch steeled herself to comfort her assistant. "Relax. They have had ample opportunity to kill us by now. We're still alive, so I doubt they mean to do so." Almost despite herself, Thalia relaxed at her mentor's words. Tension seeped out of her body just as another wormhole tore open, disgorging the communication craft. Several seconds later, the alien hologram reappeared, this time showing only the alien ship. The animated vehicle rotated directly around and a small area on the rear of the vessel was highlighted. The highlighted portion slid open, revealing a blank interior. The animation repeated itself twice more then a new image took its place.
In this, the alien craft approached the Oraeli, rotated around and moved backwards, bouncing off the nose. The image repeated itself with the alien ship in various places along the hull of the Oraeli. "What in the goddess' name?" Thalia wondered aloud, trying and failing to make sense of the alien's message. "What are they trying to say?"
Teloni studied the animation before speaking. "I think..." she began, clearly distracted and still attempting to puzzle out the message. "they are... asking how to dock." She nodded to herself. "Yes, I am reasonably certain that is their intent. Please direct them to the docking port on the belly." The bridge technicians manipulated their holographic emitter, rotating the displayed copy of the Oraeli and highlighting the docking port on the belly. A red orb appeared and moved over it over and over again.
The aliens seemed to get the message. Their hologram winked out and the ship dove towards the underside of the Oraeli. Teloni stood, mentally preparing herself for the meeting. She turned to the captain of the vessel. "Captain, please have the commandos ready, but keep them out of the room. We don't want to provoke them."
"As you wish, Matriarch," the captain saluted her before relaying her orders to the commando unit the asari matriarchs had assigned to guard this meeting. The troops took up position around the doors to the meeting room, sheltering behind makeshift battlements. The Oraeli had been prepared ahead of time, creating an empty killzone immediately outside the airlock. With a word, the Matriarch could have a dozen commandos tearing into the exposed aliens.
Teloni sighed, distressed at the necessity. She turned to her assistant. "Come Thalia, time to meet our guests." The pair moved into the docking room as the alien ship attached itself to the Oraeli.
"Matriarch, are you sure about this?" Thalia asked, worry clear in her voice. "Melding this early after contact violates every principle we have for first contact!"
A frown solidified on Teloni's lips. "I don't have much of a choice. There's only three days left to settle this before the Turians drag us into war." She scowled fiercely. "Goddess-damned proud idiots." Thalia patted her shoulder consolingly, sending her a soft smile. The matriarch returned it before schooling her features as the alien ship finished docking.
"Alright boys," Lieutenant-Commander Carlos Ramirez, leader of Strike-1 began, the lilt of his Latino accent peppering his speech. A pointed cough from one of his soldiers interrupted him, drawing smiles from the whole unit. "And girl. We're on overwatch for this one. ET blinks wrong, you shoot 'em dead. When we dock, me and Anderson are taking point," the indicated trooper nodded, hefting his heavy plasma. "Hill and Akash, cover us. Wei and Altieri, you've got the flanks. Once we're secure, you can do your thing LT."
Affirmations went out and the group settled into their seats. Minutes passed in silence until, with a gentle thump, the Starranger docked with the alien ship. Ramirez took his position against the doorframe of the transport, alloy cannon primed and ready. Anderson nodded at him and he thumped the hatch. The door shot open with a hiss, retracting fully in an instant. Ramirez led the charge, the grip required to keep his new shield in position while handling his weapon still slightly awkward for the man. Anderson followed behind, heavy plasma fixed on the two aliens standing before the transport. Both slammed to a halt mere feet from them, weapons trained and ready for anything.
The aliens, blue, humanoid and female, stumbled back in the face of the charge. He couldn't be sure, but Ramirez liked to think they were shocked. Wei and Altieri popped out of the craft next, plasma rifles moving erratically as they covered the sides. The two snipers stayed in the transport, keeping watch over the two pointmen. A moment passed and the squad sounded the all-clear, incredulity clear in their voices. Ramirez relaxed his stance slightly and motioned for his men to do the same. The aliens rallied themselves and stepped forward. The commander studied them intently, then voiced what most of the present humans were thinking. "Madre de Dios... There really are hot blue space chicks." Chuckles rang from the men, and Akash made an indignant noise in her throat. He waved the official contact forward. "You're up LT."
Lieutenant Torres clambered out of the vehicle, head spinning fast enough that Ramirez briefly worried she'd give herself whiplash. She moved up between the pointmen and took a few steps forward, presenting herself to the aliens. She waved the soldiers back a step and bowed to them. In response, one of the aliens stepped forward, her surprisingly human face set in an expression Ramirez wanted to call relief. The alien awkwardly returned the bow to Torres, surprising the humans. Heh, Ramirez thought. Maybe they're trying to be polite. The alien spoke briefly in a floating, lyrical language and her partner stepped forward.
The motion brought Ramirez' gun back up, focused on the second alien. She stopped instantly and took a step back, seeming to shrink into herself. The first alien frowned at the commander and buried her face in her hand, muttering something in her strange language. She walked back to her partner and placed her hands on either side of the second alien's head. She pointed a finger at Torres, then another at the second alien and moved her hands in a rotating gesture, then placed her palms against her partners face.
"She wants to touch me," Torres guessed, unnerved by the idea. "It looks like it's their form of greeting."
"You sure you want to do that LT?" Ramirez asked, just as nervous about it.
"Not really, but needs must when the devil drives." She stepped forward and made the same switching motion the alien had. The alien frowned and made a motion at her own head, miming an invisible barrier in front of her face. Torres frowned. "Okay, I have no idea what that's supposed to mean."
The human team stared at the alien as she continued her motions. The alien stopped after a moment, realizing they weren't understanding and pouted. Ramirez' brain screeched to a halt at the sight. How the hell does an alien pout? The alien steamed for a moment then strode up to Torres and pressed her palms against the lieutenant's helmet. Then she pressed her palms against her own cheeks. The sequence repeated itself thrice and Akash's voice crackled over the comm. "She wants your helmet off, Lieutenant."
"Oh!" Torres exclaimed. "That makes sense." She began to lift her hands to her helmet, but stopped abruptly halfway there. "Wait, what's the atmosphere like in here?"
Wei, the squads' technical expert, answered the question. "Mostly nitrogen and oxygen, not too different from Earth. It should be safe, but you're going into quarantine for a thorough decon if you take your helmet off."
"Fair enough," Torres' hands finished the journey and released the seal. "Let's just get this over with." A strange, almost fruity, taste filled her mouth as she took her first breath of alien air. The primary alien smiled brightly. Ramirez couldn't help but notice just how creepy it was that this alien had such human expressions. Images he'd seen back in basic of Thin Men flashed in the back of his mind and his grip tightened on his alloy cannon.
The alien stepped forward and placed her palms on Torres' cheeks. She mumbled some musical gibberish and closed her eyes. When they reopened, they had been replaced by endless black pits, and Torres released a muffled groan. "PSI!" Ramirez shouted, punching with his shield hand towards the alien. A lance of purple light burst from his fist and nailed the alien in the chest, sending her flying across the room and, more importantly, away from Torres. Anderson surged ahead and planted the barrel of his heavy plasma into the second alien before she could react. The cannon whined and plasma roiled as he began to squeeze the trigger.
A blue bolt slammed into Anderson's side, throwing the man into a roll away from the alien. Plasma flew wildly across the room, slamming into the roof and filling the air with smoke and molten metal. The doors to either side of the room hung open, dark suited aliens carrying rifles filled the hallway beyond them. Alien bullets filled the air. Altieri grunted and a purple shell sprung up, the constant randomly swirling forces of a telekinetic field throwing incoming projectiles off course. Plasma fire peppered the doorways, sending the aliens scurrying back into cover and melting huge portions of the surroundings.
Ramirez took this all in in an instant and turned his cannon on Torres, sure he would have to put down the LT. He took aim, only to see her standing still, her pistol on the ground several feet away and her hands held high in the air. The hell? He'd never seen a mindjacked surrender before. "CEASE FIRE!" she cried, trying to make her voice as strong as she could. At the same instant, the first alien barked something in their language, the sheer authority in her tone almost enough to bring Ramirez to attention despite the wheeze it ended in. Incoming fire halted, the aliens ducking even further into cover. "Cease fire damnit!" Torres cried, still not having moved from her position in the middle of the room. "It wasn't an attack!"
The alien spoke again, this time in English. "Stop! No hurt!" The sudden lack of incoming fire and the sheer absurdity of an alien speaking English, combined with the lieutenant's backing and behavior, was enough to convince Ramirez to order a cease fire. Guns remained trained on the doors and fingers remained on triggers, but plasma stopped flying. Ramirez kept Torres and the aliens under watch and pulled the snipers in to help.
"Hill and Akash, watch the x-rays. They move, they die." The first alien coughed out something in their musical language to the second. Rifles twitched, but the aliens had frozen, refusing to do more than blink. A tense moment passed and Ramirez turned back to his job. "I'm on Torres. Altieri, keep that field up. Anderson and Wei, watch the doors." Ramirez addressed the lieutenant. "The hell's going on LT?"
Still not moving, the lieutenant clearly knew she was viewed as compromised. "It wasn't an attack sir." Ramirez boggled at her, careful to keep his alloy cannon pointed at her at all times.
"And how the hell can I trust that?" The lieutenant turned only her head to look him in the eye.
"I'm not mindjacked sir. You want to tie me up and throw me on the 'ranger go right ahead, but I'm still in control."
Ramirez eyed her for a moment, then cursed under his breath. "Chingao! Akash, how's she look?" he called to the only other comm psi in the area, even if she barely qualified for the title.
Purple flared in the bowels of the Starranger and the sniper's voice came over the comm. "She's clean as far as I can tell, but fuck I'm no good at this shit." she grumbled. "Like she said, tie her up with something and hear what she has to say."
Ramirez stared at the tech for a long moment. "Fingers laced behind your back, walk backwards to me, slowly," he finally ordered Torres. The lieutenant complied until she stood right before the commander. "Kneel down." As soon as she was on the ground, Ramirez quickly pulled a length of cable from a pouch on his belt and wrapped it tightly around the lieutenants wrists, then tied her wrists to her ankles. A sharp tug verified the knots were solid and the commander stood back up, bringing his cannon to bear on the aliens still laying on the floor. "Now, one more time, what the fuck is going on here?"
"I-It wasn't psionics sir," she began, stumbling over her own words. "When she touched me, she touched my mind, and I touched hers."
Ramirez' eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And I'm supposed to think that's not psi?"
"It's not!" Torres countered emphatically. "I don't know what it is, but it wasn't psionics. She reached into my mind, looking for language, culture, all that, and at the same time I couldn't not look into hers. They really did come here in peace, sir."
Ramirez eyed the woman skeptically. "Akash?"
"Best I can tell, she's not lying boss."
"Wonderful," Ramirez growled. He paused for a moment and looked over at the aliens, who lay very still on the ground. He called to the one who had spoken English earlier. "Oi! Alien! You understand me?"
The alien refused to move even as she responded. "Yes. Some." Ramirez breathed a sigh.
"Alright. Stand up. Slowly." The alien complied, assuming the stance that Torres had taken earlier. Or at least she tried. Her arms only made it halfway before she winced visibly and cradled her side, where Ramirez's psi punch had hit her. The commander felt his brow raise at the sight. "What did you do?"
"I... meld," the alien began, clearly having difficulty with the language. "Touch thoughts share, learn talk fast. No attack."
Ramirez studied her intently. "So your people are touch-telepaths?" he asked. She stared at him.
"What."
"Sorry," He shook his head. "You share thoughts by touch?" Ramirez tapped the tied up Torres with a gloved hand and mimed something going from his head to hers and back.
The alien nodded. Ramirez whistled sharply. "Well, that's new. But if you can do that, why is your English so bad?" Another blank look and question. He sighed. "Why you talk no good?"
"Ah," a dark blue blush rose to the alien's cheeks, further disconcerting Ramirez. These aliens were entirely too human. "No full." She caressed her side she held with a soft flinch. Ramirez felt a flush of guilt before he ruthlessly suppressed it. "You stop I middle."
The commander couldn't help but smile briefly at that. "Uh... yea, sorry about that. We're a little twitchy when it comes to aliens." The alien favored him with another blank look and he grimaced. He muttered out loud, "Mierde, we really need to get past this."
Torres perked up at that. "Sir, have her do it again." At that, all of Strike-1 had to stare at the woman in astonishment. And so did the alien.
"The hell are you thinking LT?"
"May as well have her finish what she started so we can talk properly. She's already been in my head sir, she already has whatever she's going to get. The worst that can happen is she fries my brain. And..." She paused for a moment before continuing. "I trust her." Ramirez started sputtering. "I saw into her mind sir. She doesn't mean us harm." The commander looked her in the eye for an eternal instant.
"You sure about this LT?" She nodded. Ramirez sighed heavily and made his decision. "Alright. You," he indicated the alien. "finish your meld with her." He pointed at Torres. The alien blinked in surprise.
"Truth?"
Ramirez scowled. "Just do it before I change my mind. Strike-1, stand down." Plasma cooled, barrels were lowered, psionic fields collapsed and the soldiers relaxed. The alien stepped forward and kneeled before the lieutenant. She touched her palms to the woman's cheeks and her eyes flashed black. Torres' eyes widened for a moment before she relaxed. A few seconds later the alien stood back up. She turned to Ramirez and spoke.
"I am Matriarch Teloni of the Asari Republics," she bowed to the man. "And I deeply apologize for any alarm my actions may have caused. I hope we can live in peace together from now on."