Fixed on 12/23/2015 due to missing scene
Fixed again on 7/8/2016. Grammar, spelling, and stuff.
Tevos, Valern, and Sparatus watched a fleet that dwarfed the entirety of the Citadel Council's naval forces jump into U-4152 under the control of the deceased Terminus Warlord Inferno. It was this system that was the staging area for Inferno's raid into terran territory, and as such, held many logistical values not only for possessing a Primary Relay but also because to keep a fleet that big waiting and active, there had been many facilities ranging from repair stations to hydroponics orbiting the system's only habitable planet.
It was not just the three Councilors who were watching, though. Any and every individual who had a stake in the military, security, and technology were watching the live feed coming from the sole CCN reporters in the system. This included nearly all of Turian Hierarchy and Salarian Union's higher-ups.
Sparatus felt his heart beat a steady rhythm.
He hadn't forgotten what meeting "Gilgamesh" had been like. He hadn't forgotten the invisible and invincible power that the golden haired terran had exuded like an avalanche.
Due to the short period between then and now, he hadn't found out anything about terrans in general, much as Gilgamesh outside of what he had been told, but he had found at least one.
Gilgamesh belonged to a group of terrans that had resurrected and were immortals. He was merely one of many, and not even their strongest terran.
Because apparently, that title belonged to the very man who had declared war upon the Terminus Alliance.
That frail looking terran that commanded the strongest force within the Terran League along with a fifth of its territory.
He may not be a scientist like Valern or a politician like Tevos, but he was a soldier before he was anything else.
And the turian soldier within him demanded to learn about this possible opponent. It demanded he curb his ego and pride even to give his people a slight advantage of what was to come.
Calculate everything and anything without the slightest emotional input. Only logic.
He aimed to do just that as soon as this battle started.
The reporter who was explaining the recent events between the Terran League and the Citadel Council paused and held up a finger. "We have an incoming message from the terran fleet, audio only. It'll be playing in 3.. 2.. 1.."
There was a pause as a bit of static broke through the speakers. "Greetings, Terminus Alliance and its allies. My name is Ilmensvies von Einzbern, the duke of the very planet that you and your pirates have fired their cannons upon. As such, I have only this to say to you... Have you prayed to your gods yet?"
Then the message cut out.
As soon as the message cut out, a single super-dreadnought painted in brick red and grayish white lumbered forward.
The camera zoomed in on the lone super-dreadnought.
Flashes.
Balls of light were surrounding the super-dreadnought by the dozens in all manner of colors. They formed out of nowhere and stayed with the super-dreadnought like flying fritizy pets that the salarians popularized half a century ago.
The lights elongated into thin beam-like structures.
Then without warning, they sprung forth with the power of an exploding star. It was too fast for any of the denizens of the Terminus and Citadel Council to track, though their computers did their best.
When the lights struck the Terminus dreadnoughts...
The balls of light exploded in a multitude of colors. They became min-novas, obliterating anything and everything that stood in their way.
Everyone watched in awe, even the terrans, as the stars themselves appeared among the defensive fleet's midst, disintegrating anything that was close to them and shredding and crushing everything else.
Sparatus blinked.
"Terrans weaponized supernovas?" Valern muttered in disbelief.
"...I think they did," Sparatus replied as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
How were you supposed to protect yourself against a supernova, never mind a whole broadside of it?
Ilmensvies grunted.
While the Third True magic, the Heaven's Feel, had given the necessary magic required to boost his Starlight Paradise magecraft to its utmost limit. But having done so, his body had taken a toll.
He waved off the servants as they finished wiping the last of the blood that had dribbled down from his nose and mouth.
"Can't believe this is the best I can do," he grumbled. "I am definitely not getting any younger."
He could feel his body weaken with each burst of Un-Nova that he threw at the defenders without mercy. The feeling was like that of shredding skin, except everywhere throughout his body; a single being was simply not supposed to make plays with powers as he did without consequence.
Otto chuckled. "It's definitely better than what you were able to do half a century ago, grandfather," he replied. "If I remember correctly, you weren't able to create an explosion of that size even when you had pushed yourself then as you have done now, and you tossed out five in total! I think this is a significant improvement."
"Bah. All I did was stack Overload spells on top of each other thirteen times on a single Greek explosive spell before imbuing its properties into one of my lights. If five such actions give me a bloody nose, I'm not doing well at all," the Duke grumbled back.
Otto scoffed. "Your students can't even stack three Overloads for a single spell to be imbued upon solid objects, never mind light, grandfather. I think you should give yourself some credit."
"How about you?"
"...'
"You can't stack three?"
"...I can stack three."
"But you've been slacking, haven't you?"
"I was busy keeping the politicians in line."
"I do that all the time, and I still improve my magecraft. You've been slacking, grandson. Once we're done wiping these aliens out of their own yard, you and I will have some training session."
Otto grumbled as minor depression set in, and he should be.
No one in his family should be slacking, and if they did, he'll personally whip them up into shape.
Then the entire fleet moved. Fast moving frigates moved to disable any space station or orbital defense platforms that the planet might have.
On the other hand, the super-dreadnoughts, three of them, stayed and turned towards the Mass Relay.
"What are those dreadnoughts doing?" the reporter asked herself. Then her face paled as the super-dreadnoughts began to visibly power up. Purple lines glowed ominously before the three super-dreadnoughts all fired a single laser beam almost as thick as a small corvette upon the Mass Relay. The Relay held out for a split second before its entire structure gave away to the attack, breaking evenly in half.
With their job done, they turned towards ... them?
"Oh shit, they're heading for us!" one of the crew shouted.
The crew quickly began to take their station, and the pilot punched the accel.
Only, they didn't move.
"Why aren't we moving, Adria?!" the reporter screamed as she dashed into the corvette's small cockpit.
The pilot, a salarian by the name of Adria, just grunted back. "Ship at full speed!" she snapped at the reporter.
And the reporter looked down at the speedometer and paled. Indeed, the ship was at its max speed, and yet it was not moving.
Adria grunted again. "Some kind of tractor? Gravity well generator? No, they are not affecting each other. Tractor most likely," she ranted quietly as she slowly gave up. "No escape," she finished as she let go of the steering wheel. "At terran mercy, now."
They saw out of the cockpit's windows. From there, they could see their corvette being brought into the terran super-dreadnought like a prey being pulled into the predator's maw. They trembled in fear as their ship was forced to shut down.
Knock knock knock
The pilot sighed. "I'll answer," she muttered, leaving the fearful crew behind to the only door of the corvette.
She stood before it for a second. She wondered if this was where she died. It wasn't too hard to think that the terrans would just kill her, after all.
What she didn't know was that the camera was still rolling, drowned in the powerless, dark corridor of the corvette.
So when the door opened, and Professor Mordin of the Salarian Academy of Science came in to help them out, it was a surprise for everyone.
"I told you to leave, sister," Mordin said quickly. "Come. They have your quarters prepared, but I do not doubt for a second that their duke intends to scold you."
Adria had been given the full responsibility of the crew by the crew due to her ranking within both the Citadel Central News and as a former STG.
'This was supposed to be my retirement fun job,' she mourned her bad luck.
At least, her older brother was here.
"Really, when you said retirement, I expected a 'retirement.' This was not expected," Mordin said as he led her to ... somewhere. "When I called you and you told me you were in Terminus space, I thought you would have been touring or something, not in a job."
She sniffed. "Not exactly sure why you're on a terran ship."
"Exchange scientist. Been promised insight into terran society. I argued that war was part of society, and thus, they let me on with precaution, of course. Also, act as liaison."
"Comfy job?"
"Hardly. Fun, yes. Easy, no. Terran society is very different from any Council race. Too diverse."
"How diverse?"
"More than a three dozen strong cultures within the entire Terran League."
That stopped Adria short. "T-That's impossible! Expansion into space discourages minor cultures!"
"Terrans value all culture they possess. Make great commitment to see them flourish. Very interesting, but hard to remember all. Their home planet has more than a hundred cultures still active."
"That's insane."
"No, merely love for variety. Terrans love variety."
"We don't?"
"Our variety too limited compared to terrans."
"Seems that is true. They have too much warship variety."
"Should have seen logistic and civilian ships. Too many designs to count outside of military issues."
"...Terrans are powerful, are they not?"
Mordin looked at his sister as they stopped in front of a door.
"Council cannot win, even if total war happens," he said quickly. "Conflict with terrans is out of the question." The door opened. "Don't mess up?"
"Brothe-?"
He pushed her in.
She stood there, shocked.
"Please pardon Professor Mordin. He was supposed to be part of the exchange that is currently discussing war strategy and tactics with few of our historians and lower ranked tacticians," an old terran said from his position in front of the space-viewing window. He turned around. "Captain Daniel Daniels. I would like to say it's nice to meet you, but my first priority is to demand why you were here in this system."
Ilmensvies stared at the planet that refused to give up.
He had to commend them for their defiance against an unstoppable force. Either their loyalty to this sector's owner was strong or they didn't believe in any of the generous surrender offers that he had given them just three minutes ago.
No matter. He would make this system the example of what was to happen to the Terminus Alliance.
He glanced over his shoulder.
"Wellu."
The Heroic Spirit stiffened.
"I want you to lead the charge down there. Take down anyone that stands in your way. I want them to fear us."
"Yes, sir."
And as everyone watched, she turned around and left the command bridge.
Denizens of the planet U-4152 III watched as the enemy fleet above them parked in orbit of their planet.
Soon, they were launching hundreds and thousands of dropships filled to the brim with soldiers and machines of war.
But it was not the dropship they needed to worry about.
It was the Orbital Drop Troops, or the ODTs, who came down from the sky with nothing but their armor.
Among them was a blonde haired beauty dropping in with the ODTs. Unlike them, she was wore no armor or even a visor to protect her white eyes from the sharp winds of the planet. In fact, she barely had any clothes on besides a tight tank top and a pair of short jeans that barely reached her knees.
The most prominent thing about her was that where her skin was exposed, whether it was her upper chest, her limbs, or her stomach, there were tattoos everywhere. They held no images to them, only lines and circles. Even then, it made her look imperious and dangerous as they glowed red and white.
"1 minute to inertia negation, boys," she spoke on the shielded headset that she was wearing using prana to act as an adhesive to keep the headset on even as she fell down to the planet at terminal velocity.
Normally, Wellu would not participate in any kind of ground fighting as her primary job was to ensure the safety of the Duke of the Northern Star Archipelago.
But she knew exactly what kind of show was required right here on this day. These Terminus Alliance bastards had invaded her master's planet and killed one of his prized children.
So despite the fact that she was supposed to be guarding the Duke, she had listened to her master's order and had descended down.
It was time for the Nightmare Spectra to rise once more.
The mercenaries and soldiers on the planet began firing as soon as the dropships got in range. AA turrets fired their MA slugs, hoping to shoot down the terran soldiers before they got to land. Terminus Alliance soldiers were somewhat successful in that regard as their extremely accurate turrets dropped a dropship every minute or so.
"Alright boys, just keep on taking down down!" the commanding officer of the capital city's defensive forces shouted proudly over the comm to his soldiers manning the turrets. He was a salarian who had risen in the ranks of the Warlord Inferno army. By the time that Inferno had died, he had been high enough in the food chain to take over this planet and sign himself up as a Warlord.
It was proving to be his mistake.
He knew the technological superiority of the Terran League, but he was not willing to let go of the control he had on this planet. Oh, he was proud that his turrets were taking down the terran dropships, but that was after the targeted dropship were struck three or four times by the same turret. It was a painstakingly slow process.
He grumbled as his troops got ready to blast off the terran troops within them wherever they landed.
Then he lurched as he lost his footing as something fell behind him.
The ground beneath him cracked and caved in, and he looked over his shoulder as he fell sideways.
It was a terran!
He didn't get to think much more than that when the said terran grabbed the salarian's neck and pulled it off.
"Negate!" Wellu commanded as the ODTs under her command were less than a kilometer from the planet's surface.
All of the ODTs brought their forearms together to an 'X' in front of them and a transparent blue shield sprung up. Immediately, they slowed down to sub-Mach speed, a speed that they can survive rest of the fall down to the planet.
Wellu, on the other hand, continued on without a shield of her own. She passed by the ODTs like a bullet.
Just as she was about to hit the ground, she flipped upright in midair...
Her magic circuits roared to life. Her tattoos that were glowing red and white changed to blue and gray. With it, a semi-transparent blue flame flashed up like flaming flower petals around her just as her feet touched the concrete ground, and her speed was reduced by 80%.
Even so, the spare speed and the reinforced body of hers was heavy enough to crater the ground around her.
She didn't even stop to admire the view. She lashed out to the nearest enemy she could identify and pulled.
To her surprise, it died right there and then with a small tug of her hands. She wondered if all alien lifeforms were this weak.
After a second, she tossed the salarian she held in her hand aside as ODTs landed around the target area.
"Take out those turrets!" she commanded as she jumped forward to the nearest group of alien soldiers who were just noticing her presence. As they turned their guns to her, Wellu grabbed the nearest soldier -a batarian, if she was right- and with supernatural strength granted to her by reinforcement, she flung him to his comrades.
By then, all of the alien soldiers had taken notice of her presence -and their dead commander- and they fired.
Unlike conventional terran weaponry did not use Mass Effect technology, the tiny slugs of the Mass Effect weaponry held enough force and struck within a small enough surface area to pierce her skin and muscles, but nothing beyond was damaged.
She drew in her breath as soon as they stopped firing.
"See thy bloodied hands!" she roared as her tattoos changed color once more. This time, it became red and black.
The Councilors of the Citadel Council watched from a spy camera on the planet of the first fight between the Terminus Alliance and the Terran League. To their surprise, the soldier of the Terran League who had landed first did not look like a soldier. In fact, she looked like a civilian without a single armor on her nor a weapon.
The Councilors would have been fooled to believe this female terran was not a soldier had they not seen how she survived an orbital drop without any form of inertia dampening they could see and would have been fooled to believe that she had no weapons by her lack of visible weaponry had they not seen her hand pull out a salarian's head from his shoulders.
Her tattoos changed colors, and she jumped into a group of Terminus soldiers, but by the time she was finished with them, the rest of the soldiers who had been around their now dead salarian commander were firing upon her.
She blocked her face with her arms, and the Councilors could see the Mass Effect weaponry pierce her skin.
But the terran female remained standing.
Then she allowed her arms down when the Terminus soldiers' weapons overheated and roared something.
"S-Spirits...?" Sparatus muttered as he saw spectral soldiers rise up from the ground all around the terran female.
Terminus soldiers gawked as they saw a woman, of all things, survive a hail of rifle slugs and come out alive. Even more so when after she shouted, spirits began to rise up from the ground.
"G-Gareth!?" one of the soldiers shouted hysterically, looking at one of the spirits. "It's Gareth! The guy that died two years ago!"
All soldiers then began to scrutinize the spirits, and to their horror, realized that every single one of the spirits were someone they recognized.
"Solemn vows you have made in life shall bring you back to my side," she hissed as even more spectral soldiers of the dead alien soldiers rose up. "Kill them all!" she roared, and the spirits charged forward as one.
Terminus soldiers began firing, but they saw their slugs slam into their dead comrades as if they were actually there.
One soldier immediately broke rank and ran away.
It proved to be a mistake as he tripped. He looked at his ankle and saw to his horror a ghastly hand that grasped it. The soldier got a rock and began to bash at the spectre, only to bash his ankle instead. He cried out in pain, and in that time, the spectre had risenup from the ground. It grasped the soldier's face with its other hand and pulled the batarian's head off along with its spine.
Another soldier tried to run away even after seeing the first deserter's demise. He ran until he bounced off a spirit. He frantically looked around for his gun but found it only the foot of the spirit. He looked up and his eyes widened.
"B-Brother?" the turian mercenary muttered. The spirit began to move towards him. The mercenary scrambled backward. "B-Brother! It's me, Merius! It's your little brother Merius!" the mercenary spoke hysterically. "P-Please don't hurt me, brother!"
The spirit didn't stop and ran after his living brother.
"S-Stop, sta-!"
It went for the kill and tore out his brother's throat.
This scene repeated for any deserters.
For those who stayed behind, they were swarmed over by spectral soldiers that pinned them down to the ground and tore out their throats. Then they feasted upon the dying and dead aliens in a cannibalistic glee.
Tevos ran to the nearest trash bin and emptied her stomach of her dinner.
Valern was green with sickness and disgust, but he watched on as cannibal spirits rose up even from the dead bodies. What was worse, this time, was that the spirits that rose up from freshly killed bodies looked as they were left by the first spirits; missing body parts, gutted stomach, and teeth-torn throats.
It was even made more worse as these spirits let out an ear-piercing scream that reminded everyone of the horrors they could not bear to witness.
Valern couldn't take it after that, and ran to the restroom to throw up.
Sparatus was sick to the stomach at the display like Valern, but he also held rage at what the terran had done.
The worship of spirits and ancestors were an integral part of turian spiritual and family life. To pervert the spirits into those cannibalistic demons went beyond horror. It was a perversion of the turian way of life and belief, whether they knew it or not.
Even so, just like Valern, he watched and held in the urge to empty his own stomach.
Adria was released from the Captain's office a few hours later totally drained of energy. The questioning had gone nowhere close to a true interrogation, but the man's use of "magecraft" that released bursts of light were too traumatizing for her, not when she saw similar lights obliterate a Terminus defense fleet.
The fact that he then congratulated her for not being classified as a spy, because otherwise, she would've had her brain open.
Now, she was being escorted back to her ship. She had been told by Captain "Da-nee-els" that she and the crew of the CCN corvette would have to remain within it until they were able to reach a system with Mass Relay.
Of course, it was once again her brother that escorted her.
"Terrans trust you?"
Mordin shook his head. "Terrans are cautious yet understanding. They let me escort you. I know you, so you won't feel much fear. Also, terrans have their defense mechanism in place all over the corridor. No need for any guards, not when they are more useful on the ground invasion."
"Already?"
"The system's government has already surrendered," Mordin replied quietly as he led his sister into the diplomat's room and turned on the TV.
Instead of a Citadel news team, it was a terran news team who were currently on the ground. When they had arrived here, neither salarians knew. Perhaps the terran news team came with the entire fleet.
"-nd the local citizens are being rounded up to hear the duke's speech at the center of this planet's capital city. We at the Gaian New Convention believe that the duke intends to make his point clear. At the same time, many influential persons like Senator Gregory Sal'meth of North America, Earth has expressed concerns for the future of the newly conquered territories and their denizens." The screen changed to show a terran with white hair and wrinkles. He stood in the streets where many reporters and journalists had gathered to see. From the way he was dressed to the location, it was clear that this session had been in prompt.
"As I was saying," the old Senator, Adria guessed, spoke with a frown. "I am merely concerned. Due to the nature of this war, I nor anyone of the League's legislative body can interfere as we wish as we had done in the Awakening. However, I have been a friend of the duke, and I know from experience that while the duke is enraged beyond anything I have seen before, there is no way that he will bend sentient rights by enslaving the new citizens of the League or anything close to that.
"What I am concerned is which planet he intends to blow up, because blowing up a planet is ... well, I don't really need to say it, do I? As righteous his anger is, blowing up a planet is a terrible prospect. Hundreds of species of plants, animals, not to mention the livelihood of the denizens, and the local solar system's gravitational wells would be destroyed. After the destruction of the planet, I have no doubt that the solar system which it resided in will change forever."
The screen shifted back to the plaza where the terran news team had been.
"As you have heard, there will be irrecoverable changes. Those changes are far away, however. What is about to happen now is the duke's speech and what his intention to the new citizens of the League is as the Senator Sel'meth put it. This is Jennifer Boheansson signing out."
Mordin turned the TV off with a wave of his hand.
"I suspect that it will be an hour or so before everyone on the planet is brought to the plaza, then we can see what will happen," he said. "Forever change our view of the terrans."
Then there was a ping, and Mordin raised his left arm where his omnitool was. He pressed a few digital buttons before he read the message that he received.
"Interesting offer," he muttered. "Adria, terran leader Otto Tohsaka-Bahk asks if you and the CCN crew wants to remain aboard this ship. Exclusive interview with some of the terrans as well as sole CCN or any other news crew to be stationed with them for the duration of the war."
Well. That was an offer she couldn't just refuse.
For Identity of Wellu, look under Heroic Spirits on Chapter 4, the informative chapter
