Author's Note:
Sorry for the late upload, guys! I just started my senior year of highschool, and so far, it has hit me like a train. Couple that with a gaming clan I'm an officer in, as well as another story I'm working on, and I'm pretty much loaded with work. However, I managed to push through, and complete this chapter! Ain't that a doozy?
Disclaimer: I own nothing besides the UER.
The battle had been brutal. Devastating. Horrible. Janna T'Lani couldn't help but wonder at the devastation wrought by the UER in its own system, and on its own planet. The humans were ruthless in their conduct of war, without mercy and without regard for anything but victory.
And, ultimately, it horrified Janna.
Sure, Desolas and Sparatus were impressed by the sheer discipline and ruthlessness with which the humans waged war. They were turians—that was expected of them. In fact, Desolas and Sparatus had been extremely quick to befriend the humans' ground commander, one General Williams. But Janna had only seen the destruction, the death. She didn't see victory in the ruins on the fringe of "Sector Seleucia," the main city on the human colony of Antioch. She didn't see victory in the gray, burning husks of UER vessels, floating in space with corpses occasionally drifting out of the holes wrought in the ships.
She didn't see victory in the multitudes of civilians that lay dead because of the UER's policy of conscripting civilians of a colony under attack.
Yes, General Williams had told her that those civilians were all former military, that they were all trained, drilled, and kept up-to-date on a regular basis even as civilians. But Janna didn't care that all civilians were part of the UER's reserve, that they knew war as if it was their best friend.
As a member of the asari species, one based on peace, diplomacy, and democracy, Janna could only think of the multitudes of children, wives, and husbands who would be left without loved ones. And yet, the humans told her the same thing, over and over again, that the civilians were still soldiers, still marines, through and through, despite being civilians. It was so frustrating!
And then, to make matters worse, was what the UER did to the few prisoners they had gained from the battle. Every single prisoner acquired on the ground was sent to General Williams, and half of them were executed on the spot!
Several human soldiers and marines had gone along the line of prisoners, taking their pistols and shooting them without regard! What kind of species did that?
Of the remaining half, a quarter was sent to an ominous ORI, for an even more ominous examination, and the ones that were left were supposedly interrogated, tortured, and beaten for information. Oh, the thought of such actions caused bile to rise in Janna's throat. And yet, everyone but her was satisfied by such measures. Even Desolas, even Sparatus, even the Salarian ambassador. Even Matriarch Trevelyna, for Thessia's sake!
And thus, Janna took a moment to remember the events that swept the Citadel envoys away during the battle. Admiral Vasily Mikhailov refused to allow the Citadel Diplomatic Flotilla to take part in the naval battle—they had been immediately sent back to Antioch, where the diplomats were brought planetside. There, they were sent to General William's command center, where they waited out the battle, while Desolas and Sparatus were keen to observe the human's tenacity in battle.
The Diplomatic Flotilla was allowed to engage the few enemy vessels that had reached Antioch, but besides that, the UER did not let them fight. Marines were told to stay on their vessels, as the UER did not want to risk "blue on blue," in case any UER soldiers mistook the Citadel marines for enemies.
And now, Janna was back on the Cybaen, headed back to the Citadel, along with the rest of the ambassadors. Janna sat in the officer's mess, silently observing her food, a plate of Silessian Asevega.
Suddenly, a body plopped into a seat beside her, and Janna was ripped out of her reverie, looking to her left. She saw Sparatus there, sitting ramrod-straight with a plate of turian…meat, she supposed, in front of him.
Sparatus proceeded to taste his food, before setting his utensils down and returning Janna's stare. A few moments passed in silence, before the turian ambassador looked away, picking up his silverware once more.
"Janna, I'm sorry to say this, but I'm sure that a deaf and blind elcor would be able to tell that you've got something on your mind. So," he took a few bites of his food, before turning back to Janna. "If you wouldn't mind, I would like to invest in learning what you're thinking about right now."
Janna sighed, understanding that she would not be able to escape this. Rubbing her eyes, she looked back at Sparatus, a slight frown on her face. "Sparatus, I…I'm not sure what to think of these humans."
"What do you mean?"
"They're…they're ruthless, merciless, and, to be perfectly honest, they scare me…"
At this, Sparatus raised an eyebrow, unsure of what to say. "Well, Janna, I…I don't understand?"
"Sparatus, you saw what the humans did—you saw what those so-called Scarecrows did, you saw the measures these humans took to defend their homes, you saw what they did with those prisoners! Sparatus, they executed half of them, and I'm one-hundred percent sure that this "ORI" is taking some of those prisoners for some nefarious reason, I wouldn't know what exactly." Janna took a few deep breaths, her wringing her hands as she spoke. "Sparatus, I wouldn't trust the humans. I don't trust them, they go against everything I stand for as a diplomat of peace, I—"
The turian General-Politician placed a hand on Janna's back, patting her repeatedly in efforts to calm her down. After a moment, he spoke. "Janna, to be frank, I think you're overreacting to this entire event." He turned away, looking down at his food. "At this point in time, Janna, the Citadel needs allies. Not enemies, but friends, who are willing to lay down their lives to save our own people. And in the humans? I can see that willingness, that determination that the Council so desperately needs to win this war."
"But the cost of allying with the humans—"
"—is nothing, for now. However this turns out, we shall see. But I am ultimately sure that the humans will prove to be dear allies—we'll get through this together." Sparatus took up his silverware, before continuing to eat his food. "Now, Janna, you'd better start eating—don't want to talk to the Council on an empty stomach, after all. And Janna?"
"Yes?"
"Don't stress yourself out over this. I'm sure it will all turn out well."
Janna nodded silently, before finally beginning to eat her Asevega. The Cybaen was scheduled to arrive back at the Citadel in a day or so, so until then, Janna resolved to simply rest her mind.
Nubian Expanse
December 11th, 2253
5 days after the Battle of Antioch
Aiden Pearson watched as the various crewmen of the RNS Night's Eye, a Grendel-class corvette, hustled about the hangar, dropping boxes and crates here and there. The atmosphere of the hangar was dense, as if any mistake would cost innumerable lives. The vessel was, after all, one of the many secretive ships belonging solely to the Office of Republic Intelligence.
By all rights, it was a spook ship—everyone onboard was sworn to secrecy, marked on various lists and documents, and ready to be terminated in case of loose ends. That was how ORI ran.
Of course, Aiden knew the reason for the bustling hangar—they were preparing for the departure of the BAC-SIG team Silent Lamb. Aiden himself was part of Silent Lamb, and as he stared across the hangar, he could see the other members of the rest of the team.
Silent Eye, or Sierra Lima over radio chatter, was composed of six people of varying backgrounds and abilities. Tara Pele, a curvy woman who originated from the colony of Varus, a planet composed predominantly of those of Hungarian backgrounds, was Silent Lamb's leader, their observant eye. On field missions, she was designated "Overwatch." Then, there was Aiden and Cyrus Tavor, both field agents who did most of the hard work, in Aiden's opinion. They were deemed "Sabre" and "Cutlass" respectively.
After them came Adam Clementine, "Phoenix", the team's driver and pilot. The last two members of the team were based on technical expertise—Christie Rojas, their primary hacker, named "Mystic," and Bailey Freeman, "Groundhog," their infiltrator.
It was a solid team, in Aiden's opinion, and he had come to know them quite well over the four years they had worked together. Like all BAC-SIG teams, they had little connection with anyone outside of their group, and they liked it that way.
Issue was, scuttlebutt said that Colonel Nelson, their commanding officer, was looking for someone to add to Silent Lamb, probably from the various Special Ops units of the UER. Aiden didn't like that—another unknown member, who would likely create a dissonance in the team and disrupt their time-enhanced efficiency. At the thought, Aiden frowned.
Of course, there was also Black Eye, or "Bravo Echo," Silent Lamb's counterpart in their current task force. They had been deployed only days before with another ORI corvette into what was supposedly "Citadel Space," and were scheduled to remain incognito in neutral, and potentially allied, space for some time. Aiden barely knew Black Eye—this was only the second time the two teams were attached for a task force. The only members of Black Eye Aiden knew of were Miranda Lawson, an Australian woman who had many she knew infatuated with her, and Jacob Taylor, a former "corsair," or as Aiden liked to call the corsairs, "bounty hunter," who was brought into ORI's fold and trained to be a part of BAC-SIG. Aiden trusted neither of them.
Then again, Aiden didn't trust anyone besides his own team.
His thoughts were interrupted when Tara called his name. Snapping his head towards her, he saw that she grasped a small weapon in her hands, gesturing Aiden over to a table.
"Pearson! Get over here."
He nodded, before walking towards Tara, who pointed over towards a wall. "Aiden, get to the weapon rack, choose your gear, and get your armor on. Mission is a go, we're loading onto Honey Badger over there—"she pointed to a nearby UR/T-441 Condor Stealth Transport, "—for our first mission. Large batarian colony, lots of politicians and high-ranking officers to get tags on. We're heading out in ten."
"Got it." With that, Aiden left Tara, before moving over to the nearby wall. Upon arriving at his destination, he slapped a button on the wall, and it slid open, to reveal a rack full of weapons of varying size open to him.
Taking a brief look over his options, Aiden pulled out an R15 Rapid Assault Carbine, as well as an R14 Viper handgun. He finished off his loadout with an R65 Albatross, a PDW that many in ORI favored, before grabbing a selection of different magazines, some loaded with specialized ammunition. Finished with his pickings, Aiden moved over to a nearby table, where dozens of different modifications and tools sat.
He set the R15 RAC on the table, before brainstorming. The mission, he assumed, would be somewhat like a wetwork mission—no disguises, no civilian work, but mainly operations in the shadows, where Silent Lamb could creep through the city unnoticed. For that, he would need a stealth based kit that could handle firepower, accuracy, and stealth, at the same time. Maximum efficiency while staying undetected. Thus, Aiden grabbed a slew of different attachments. A suppressor, nearly mandatory, was needed. A small red-dot sight, set at 2x zoom optimized for close-range engagements, but could still handle medium ranges. A foregrip and flashlight were also taken, and finally, an underbarrel attachment, an M90 Modular Accessory Shotgun System, prepped and loaded for tranquilizer darts, for a worst-case scenario. Nearly finished, Aiden grabbed a nearby tool, before inserting it into the R15's trigger system. With a few pulls of the tool's trigger, he under-gassed the weapon in a controlled manner, modifying the carbine's internal systems for a lower rate of fire, in exchange for much greater control. Moving onto his R14 Viper, Aiden attached a similar set of attachments, before finally moving onto the R65.
The R65 would be optimized for CQC only, so Aiden first replaced the barrel with a shorter one, and added a suppressor. He slapped on another red-dot sight, this time set for 1x zoom, and a green laser-sight and angled foregrip. Finished with the R65, Aiden grinned, before picking them up and walking towards a set of lockers.
In the lockers sat a variety of different armors, vests, and suits, ready for use. Aiden opened one locker, gazing at its contents—an MH-41 Light Jaeger set, meant for use with the 21st Hunter-Killer Division, who were, funnily enough, also called "Jaegers." This mission was probably not meant for infiltration, as the Jaeger's "rivals," the 135th Infiltration Regiment, or "Wraiths" were meant for. No, this mission would likely bring Silent Lamb in contact with some hostiles, and thus, a "light infantry" set was more suitable for Aiden's needs.
Aiden took a few minutes to put the armored hardsuit on, before moving onto final gear: an AW-77 Beam Sabre, for hand-to-hand engagements, a TacPad and TacSight module for team needs, and finally, a cloaking module, a piece of equipment that could cloak its user nearly entirely, an invisible ghost within enemies.
With that, Aiden was finished. He tested his visor's light, the helmet briefly giving off an eerie red light before switching back off, and attached his weapons onto magnetic strips on his armor—his carbine on his back, his handgun at his hip, and the R65 across his spine. Satisfied with his selection, Aiden moved back to the others, who had all geared up and met near the Stealth Condor.
"You all set, Aiden?"
"Yep. I've got all the gear I need. Carbine, PDW, pistol, I'm green."
"Good. Let's all load into the Condor, I'll brief you on the way down."
"What's the name of the planet?"
"Torfan, is what the batarians call it."
Three days later…
Ambassador Donnel Udina smiled a devious, yet deceptively charming grin, his teeth glaring back at him through the mirror. Looking over himself one last time, he checked for any possible wrinkles or such in his suit, before straightening his tie. Turning around, he opened the door to his private cabin's bathroom, steadily making his way out to the exit.
"Tina, inform Admiral Rogiero that I'm making my way to the bridge. He said our ETA was in ten?"
"That is correct, Ambassador Udina." The robotic voice of the RNS Optio's resident Virtual Intelligence replied. "The RNS Optio and her escort are set to exit FTL in the Serpent Nebula in nine minutes and twenty two seconds."
"Thank you, Tina. That will be all." He made his way to the nearby elevator, pressing the button for the vessel's bridge. A few seconds later, the elevator let out a small ding, and the doors opened, to reveal the command center of the ship.
The RNS Optio was a Ticonderoga-Class Heavy Cruiser, a relatively new class of warships that had replaced the old Hallmark-Class cruisers. While it was armed with the traditional heavy cannon that was the trademark of heavier UER vessels, the Ticonderoga-Class cruisers were optimized for heavy missile support, its ammunition stores filled to the brim with missiles and torpedoes. The Optio, however, was a unique vessel, since it led most primary diplomatic ventures. There were several private cabins onboard, and its land vehicle bay was removed for more space for both infantry and envoys. Its eleven-strong guard consisted of a variety of smaller vessels—two Prussia-Class light cruisers, three destroyers of both the Providence-Class and Lancaster-Class variety, two Jackdaw-Class frigates, one Skywhale-Class frigate, and three Peltast-Class corvettes. Overall, the small flotilla was deadly, but was far from being the strongest group of UER naval vessels.
Very far.
Despite that, Donnel Udina felt incredibly safe within the core of the RNS Optio—the bridge, like all UER vessel bridges, was nowhere near a vulnerable point, sitting somewhere closer to the inside of the ship, and its viewports were merely screens point outwards, only disguised as windows for the psychological effect. All in all, a very safe ship.
Udina walked into the bridge, and watched as the hustle and bustle stopped, the various crew saluting him. Nearby, a man of seemingly Brazilian descent stood, his eyes gazing at a tactical screen. Udina approached the man, gesturing for the rest of the crew to be at ease.
"Udina. Tina told me you were coming."
"Good. She did her job. Wouldn't want to get the jump on you, dear old friend. Lord knows you're old enough, and we don't want your men thinking you've gone soft."
The man turned, a stern, almost angry, visage on his face. A few seconds passed as the two men nearly glared at each other, a tense atmosphere about. Suddenly, the man burst out laughing, hearty bellows leaping out of his lungs. "Ah, Udina, amigo, I've always liked you the most out of all the politicos and estadistas. Maybe that's because we were squadmates once."
"Yes, yes, and don't tell me you've forgotten the bountiful amount of times I saved your life."
"I never will, my friend. The New Sahara Campaigns are something I'll never forget…"
The air suddenly turned grim, as the two men delved into their memories. After a few moments, Udina took a deep breath, before his disarming smile returned to his face.
"Ah, but, Rogiero, let's not dwell on the Insurrection. We've got things to do, an alien council to meet."
"Oh yes, indeed we do." Admiral Rogiero turned away, his body stance and face back to a visage of full, undivided attention. "ETA is in T-minus three minutes. We'll just have to hang tight until then. Comms, send out a communications packet ahead of us, let them know we're on their doorstep. We don't want any sort of diplomatic incident to occur now."
"Done, Admiral."
"Thank you."
The two men simply elected to wait, standing silently as they watched the tactical screen in front of them. Exactly three minutes later, the helmsman called out from the front. "Attention, all crew, standby for a return to sublight speeds. Disengaging drives in three…two…one…"
The vessel seemed to bounce slightly, before the RNS Optio suddenly dropped out of its FTL bubble, returning to sub-FTL speeds. To the Optio's front floated an entire armada of vessels, of varying size, design, and color. The Optio was soon joined by its escort, the array of smaller ships slamming into existence around the heavy cruiser.
"Admiral! Transmission coming in, appears it's from the lead vessel to our front—Ascension-Class Dreadnought, apparently." The voice of the Optio's Communications Officer sounded off.
"Open it."
Moments later, a voice rang through the bridge's speakers, feminine yet wizened. "Unknown vessel, this is the Destiny Ascension.Our comms and sensors mark you as the RNS Optio, lead human diplomatic vessel. Confirm?"
"Confirmed, Destiny Ascension.This is Admiral Peter Rogiero, commanding officer of the RNS Optio and the UER Diplomatic Flotilla. Ambassador Donnel Udina is aboard. Permission to approach the Citadel?"
A few seconds passed before the voice replied. "Granted, Admiral Rogiero. We're sending traffic information right now, take the designated path."
"Roger that, RNS Optio is moving now. Escort group is sitting behind, ready to move in, as per the Ripley Protocol."
"Thank you, Admiral." The voice cut out, and the helmsman took the vessel on the path marked, leaving the rest of the escort behind. The Ripley Protocol was a series of UER naval laws and doctrines, stating that in any case of a UER ambassador being attacked, the diplomatic flotilla would take all measures necessary to extract any and all major personnel—even if it meant engaging a civilian structure, station, or planet. Based on the old 20th century movie, Alien, it assured that Udina would be protected to the best of their extent.
"Udina, this is it. There's a shuttle waiting for you in the hangar, as well as a contingent of guards." Rogiero turned towards Udina, placing a hand on the ambassador's shoulder. "Take care out there, Udina. There's only five of us left out of our old squad. Don't wanna lose you too."
"I will, Peter. No worries about that." Udina put a hand at his side, where a large pistol was holstered. "I've still got my Maverick."
"That old thing? They updated that years ago."
"It still works for me. Anyways, I better get going."
In response, Rogiero simply nodded, turning away again. Udina calmly walked out of the bridge, nodding to a few guards who saluted him before entering an elevator. A few seconds later, the elevator reached the hangar, and the doors opened to reveal the large, expansive room. The ambassador walked towards a collection of Condor dropships, where several squads of marines waited. When he reached them, they all stood up, saluting, before one of the marines approached Udina.
"Ambassador Udina! Lieutenant Davies, commanding officer of 1st Platoon, Halifax Company. We're your guard for now."
Udina saluted him back, before looking at the shuttles. "I would have thought only one dropship was needed."
"Three dropships total, sir, partly to hold all thirty of us, and partly to provide a decoy in case of any hostile fire."
"Noted. Now, are your men ready?" Udina watched the other marines out of the corner of his eye.
"Yes, sir. Game plan is to land two shuttles in their docks, and have the other two ready for emergency drop. Eight of us will provide security on the way."
"Thank you, Lieutenant. Now, let's be off, shall we?"
The marine officer nodded, before turning around and gesturing for his men to load into the dropships. Udina joined Lieutenant Davies in his dropship. The ambassador was given a mask, presumably to protect him from any harmful bacteria or diseases, while the marines were protected by their helmets. The Condors lifted off and flew out of the hangar with two wings of F-41 Kestrels as escorts, and the armored doors closed behind them, once more protecting the vulnerable part of the ship. The trip was silent, as the marines carefully checked their armor and weapons, readying themselves. Leaving the RNS Optio behind, the Condor dropships approached the Citadel.
A few minutes later, two UER shuttlesslid into the dock. A collection of C-Sec officers took their places in the port, holding their weapons at the ready. With them stood Executor Pallin, watching as the two dropships landed. A few moments after, the shuttles' doors opened, as a stream of human marines exited. After them was a man clad in what looked to be the humans' formal clothing, clad in black and white.
The marines stood in formation around what Pallin assumed to be the ambassador, and the ambassador walked calmly towards Pallin, an air of charisma and confidence around the man. Upon reaching the turian, he smiled, though it was hard to see through the mask over his mouth. Remembering the humans' traditional gesture of greetings, Pallin held out a hand, gauging the ambassador's eyes. They briefly showed surprise, before he took the hand, shaking it warmly.
"Ambassador Udina, I presume? Executor Pallin, head of Citadel Security. I'm here to bring you to the Council Chambers."
Ajax System
December 16th, 2253
Ten days after the Battle of Antioch
"Captain Shepard."
Hans Shepard cleared his throat, before looking into Admiral Mikhailov's eyes, tinged blue through the QEC. He promptly saluted, before Mikhailov gestured for him be at ease. "Admiral Mikhailov, sir."
"Great work coordinating your ground forces with Colonel Capet—I'll be sure to commend both of you. Antioch has been successfully defended." The admiral looked away for a brief second, a contemplative look in his eyes. "I'll be frank with you, Captain. We lost many lives this battle, and the 15th Fleet took the brunt of the damage. Orders have come from the top for me to bring my fleet back to Arcturus."
"Sir?"
"What I mean, Captain Shepard, is that the 15th needs to recuperate. New vessels, new sailors, new marines, new everything. The 15th will only be a fraction of what it once was, and I'll be in charge of all that. So, Captain, the UER will need a different 'tip of the spear.' And that's where you come in. I assume the SPECWARCOM units have arrived?"
"Yes sir. Elements of the Special Assault Division, 11th Light Recon, and Bravo Cadre have arrived and been posted on the RNS Crusader."
"Good. They're the lead bullet, and Battlegroup Autumn will be the rifle that fires them. I've also commissioned two of the ships under my command to bolster your Battlegroup. The RNS Perugia, a Winter-Class light cruiser, and the RNS Georgetown, a Lancaster-Class destroyer."
"Any idea on where we're headed first, and when, sir?" Shepard asked.
"ORI told me they found some intelligence on a batarian planet they were scouting, Torfan. The batarians are planning something, an attack into our borders. Details are hazy, but we do know that they plan to raid New Mojave, in the Hydra System. Most likely, it will be a small attack, an incursion to test our defenses, see if we're ready to fight. Take Autumn there, and further orders will likely arrive based on new intelligence."
"Yes sir."
"Head to Argos Rho as soon as you can, New Mojave's garrison will be waiting for you. Dismissed."
The QEC promptly shut off, leaving Hans Shepard suddenly without the soothing blue light of the advanced comms system. Sighing, Hans turned around, nodding towards Commander Molina, his XO. "Molina, make sure the battlegroup is ready for transit, and send a message to helm to plot a course for the Hydra System—I expect to be on our way in twenty mikes."
"Yes sir." The XO turned to leave, before Hans called him back.
"And what's the status of our resident SAD unit?"
"They're settling in, sir. They were assigned to cabins 7A through 7F, near the hangars."
Hans grunted, motioning for Molina to be on his way before turning back to the QEC. What time was I supposed to speak with Colonel Nelson? 1100? Shepard checked his watch, seeing, only just noticing that the time was 1055 when the QEC in front of him flashed a bright blue. Hastily, Hans pressed a button, promptly bringing up a hologram of a middle aged Caucasian man.
"Colonel Nelson."
"Captain Shepard, you're right on time. Frankly, I didn't think you would answer so quickly."
Hans narrowed his eyes—he had limited knowledge of this Colonel Nelson, yet from what he had gathered, Nelson was a high-ranking officer of the Office of Republic Intelligence. Naturally, he wouldn't trust the man. "I just got off a call with Admiral Mikhailov. But, to the point, what do you need, Colonel? I assume this is about the SAD?"
The Colonel crossed his arms, merely staring into Hans' eyes for several seconds. After what seemed like ages to Hans, Nelson grinned with a faux-charismatic shine to his teeth. "Captain, I realize there are several teams of the Special Assault Division currently posted on your ship."
"Yes, there are. Why?"
"I presume you received the dossier ORI sent you? On each SAD trooper?"
Hans frowned, trying his best not to reveal his emotions to the devious ORI commander. "I have. I've read over each profile, and I saw the message at the end. Observe, Colonel?"
"You know what I'm looking for, Shepard."
Hans attempted to keep up the charade for more time, yet finally sighed, relenting to Nelson's sharp glare. "I've got the troopers hitting the dirt on our next engagement, Colonel. I'll send you the best I find."
Nelson simply smirked, a dark gaze in his eyes. "Thank you, Captain, for your cooperation. Commendations are required, of course." Without further hesitation, the call was terminated, and Hans was once more left in the darkness of the communications center, without the blue light of the QEC. Rubbing his eyes, Hans pushed any thoughts on the current matter to the side, before leaving the QEC.
In the belly of the RNS Crusader, a set of cabins lay within close proximity to the hangar. Originally empty, they had recently been assigned to four SAD teams that were assigned to the Crusader. They were in a favorable position—within a few minutes' walk to the armory, and right outside the hangar itself, those within the cabins could easily suit up and report for any mission without too much trouble.
The cabins were also in a very safe area of the ship, relatively. While the bridge was always the safest part of any space-worthy vessel, located in the middle of the ship, cabins 7A through 7F could hold around sixty marines or sailors and protect them from many different hazards. In case of boarders, the cabins provided a series of hallways and chokepoints that could aid the residents in mowing down rows and columns of hostiles that attempted to navigate the area.
These thoughts, and others, roamed through Lieutenant Victor Evans' mind as he analyzed his newest residence. The newest member of the SAD team Disciple 2 had nothing else to do, having already cleaned his R27 Harrier sniper rifle and eaten alone in the mess hall. The rest of his new team was likely to arrive soon—they had ventured off to eat some fifteen minutes before. Shaking his head, Victor turned towards the nearest door, which revealed the inside of one of the cabins.
Disciple 2, Scarlet 1, Overture 1, and Royal 2 were the newest additions to the RNS Crusader's compliment—the four SAD teams were assigned as the tip of the UER's spear against this new enemy, the batarians. While the two teams from the 11th LRD and the one from Bravo Cadre would supplement them, the SAD units present were the forces that would provide most of the action. Of course, this meant that they were in the most danger. This was something that the SAD welcomed with open arms, however—the Special Assault Division was composed of the some of the best marines that the UER had to offer—demolitions experts, hackers, infiltrators, snipers like Victor, anything and everyone in the Marine Corps aspired to be a Special Assault Trooper.
Victor himself had caused many heads to turn when he was inducted into the SAD. At the tender age of 19, he was likely one of the youngest to ever join the SAD, when the average age was somewhere around 28 or 30. Victor had not even had much real combat experience—only a few battles here and there where he had somehow done some good. The young lieutenant was, frankly, not sure if he could match par in the coming days—nervousness and anxiety penetrated his bones to the point where feeling sick in the stomach was a routine thing for him.
Victor's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a clap on his shoulders. He whipped around, only to see Captain Jonathan Volker, Disciple 2's team leader.
"Hey, el-tee. Making yourself comfortable?"
Victor stared into Volker's eyes, before smirking. "Wouldn't you like to know, Cap?"
The SAD captain returned his gaze with a hard glare, before laughing. "Good to see you're at home, though we would have liked for you to join us at mess." Looking behind Volker, Victor saw a steady stream of the rest of Disciple 2 enter the large cabin.
"Looks like the rest of the team's here now," Victor said. "Though I don't know all their names yet."
Volker grinned, walking away to one of the bunks in the room. "Meet and greet is for later, el-tee. For now, let's go over your portfolio, since we're due to exit FTL in about thirty mikes." He picked up a datapad, gesturing for the young trooper to sit down.
Victor nodded, heading down to his own bunk before taking a seat. "Ask your questions, sir."
"Alright, first off. Datapad says you're specialized in both long range combat and CQC. Sniper?"
"Correct, went through AMC for a few months, and then attended the Special Combatives Directive. Rated for both designated marksman and sniper roles."
"Nice," Volker said, before pointing to one of their squadmates in the room, an attractive brunette woman, shorter than all the others in the room. "First Lieutenant Valerie Black, our resident sniper. You'll be posted with her—you're the sniper, she's the spotter. Listen to her, el-tee, and you should be fine."
"Roger. Anything else, sir?"
"I do have one other question—your portfolio says you're 19. How the hell did you make it in to the SAD this early?"
How did Victor make it in at his ripe age? Delving into his memories, Victor contemplated his earliest experiences in the service. He had been in basic training at age 17, hoping to enter the Marine Corps for his mandatory years of service, and had been featured as one of the most promising recruits of his class. His peers had ranged from excellent, to absolutely dismal, and yet there were several that were arguably brighter than Victor ever was. And yet, that one day, during one of his training sessions, a man dressed in a sleek black suit had joined them, watching over them.
Observing them.
And at the end of that session, the "G-Man," as the trainees had begun to call him, talked with the drill instructor for an infuriating amount of time. At the end of that, the G-Man had pulled Victor aside, offering him additional training.
Thus, Victor had been pushed into the world of SPECWARCOM. Nearly four more years of training had pushed the young man into an entire slew of punishing exercises, sessions, and learning experiences. "Mock" torture and interrogation sessions, marksmanship drills, leadership programs, excruciating jogs and runs that lasted days at a time, a myriad of many different courses that culminated in a survival "exercise," where he and fifty other graduates that were older than he was were dropped onto the dangerous planet of Oppenheimer, to last through countless hazardous environments.
By the end of it, Victor had been the SAD trooper the UER wanted, along with the fifty others with him. Of course, there were still SPECWARCOM units that were, in effect, better than the SAD, yet the Special Assault Division was one of the most elite units in the United Earth Republic.
Last Victor had heard, there had only been twenty others in the long history of the SAD that had entered the unit at a similar age over the two hundred years the unit had existed. Latest scuttlebutt from his SPECWARCOM acquaintances had said that some girl by the name of Shepard was undergoing a similar process, but instead to the 76th Marine Special Operations Division—a sister unit to the SAD, of sorts, but which was instead based on tactical insertions and stealth, as opposed to the "shock trooper slash demolitions slash brute force" methods the Special Assault Division was known for. Hence the "assault" in the name.
Wait. Shepard. The same Shepard as the one commanding Battlegroup Autumn? Maybe it was the man's daughter.
No matter. Victor noticed that Volker was still waiting upon an answer from him, and left his thoughts to provide one. "Long story, sir, not sure we have enough time to go through it all. Long story short, some G-Men decided they liked how I looked in basic, and picked me up—much like my old drill instructor would do Friday nights, but with hookers on Masada IV."
In return, Volker chuckled, setting down his datapad. "Well, the antics of your old DI is something I don't care to learn about, but that's beside the point. We're done with the questioning, and I suspect we'll be leaving FTL in a couple minutes." Volker sat up, grabbing Victor's hand to help him up. "Get down to the armory, gear up and suit up—we'll be the first ones down on New Mojave."
Victor nodded, giving a lazy salute before making for the exit. He turned, however, when he heard Volker's call out behind him.
"Disciple 2, let's move out to the armory! Once you're done putting your makeup on, meet me and the others in Briefing." The various members of Disciple 2 all got up, talking to one another, and Victor started moving again towards where he thought the armory was.
"Hey, Evans! Wrong way, man, armory is this way!"
Maybe he was wrong.
Codex:
Corvette: Light screening, patrol, light duties.
Grendel-Class Corvette: 230 meters long, 57 meters wide.
Ship of the Line: RNS Grendel
Specialty: Light Duties, Patrol
Armaments:
Main Guns: 1 Spinal Mounted MGC
Missiles: 2 Orion Missile Pods—1 on each side. 140 missiles each.
Torpedoes: 1 Fracture Torpedo Pod—1 on front. 2 torpedoes.
Point Defense: 20 60mm Gauss Gatling Rifles
Shielding: 350 kilotons
2 Spacecraft
100 Marines
Ticonderoga-Class Heavy Cruiser: 1,125 meters long, 300 meters wide.
Ship of the Line: RNS Ticonderoga
Specialty: Heavy Missile Support
Armaments:
Main Gun: 1 Spinal Mounted HMC
Broadsides: 200 LGCs
Missiles: 16 Raven Missile Pods—7 each side, two front. 80 missiles each.
Torpedoes: 6 Fracture Torpedo Pods—4 Front, 1 on each side. 4 torpedoes each.
Point Defense: 185 50mm Gauss Gatling Rifles
Orbital Bombardment: 2 OB Mini MCs
Shielding: 12,000 kilotons
125 Spacecraft
2,450 Marines—One Expeditionary Regiment
Prussia-Class Light Cruiser: 850 meters long, 265 meters wide.
Ship of the Line: RNS Prussia
Specialty: Medium Fire Support
Armaments:
Main Guns: 2 Spinal Mounted MMCs
Broadsides: 125 LGCs
Missiles: 8 Raven Missile Pods—5 on each side. 60 missiles each.
Point Defense: 130 60mm Gauss Gatling Rifles
Orbital Bombardment: 3 OB Mini MCs
Shielding: 7,500 kilotons
75 Spacecraft
2,000 Marines—One Amphibious Assault Regiment
Destroyer: Meant for escorts and screening the heavier units.
Providence-Class Destroyer: 675 meters long, 215 meters wide.
Ship of the Line: RNS Providence
Specialty: Mainstay Destroyer, Heavy Escort
Armaments:
Main Guns: 2 Spinal Mounted LMCs, 1 Spinal Mounted MMC
Broadsides: 50 LGCs
Missiles: 8 Orion Missile Pods—3 on each side, 2 on front. 180 missiles each.
Torpedoes: 1 Fracture Torpedo Pod—1 on front. 2 torpedoes.
Point Defense: 85 60mm Gauss Gatling Rifles
Orbital Bombardment: 1 OB Mini MC
Shielding: 1,250 kilotons
65 Spacecraft
2,000 Marines—One Amphibious Assault Regiment
Lancaster-Class Destroyer: 650 meters long, 200 meters wide.
Ship of the Line: RNS House of Lancaster
Specialty: Heavy Escort
Armaments:
Main Guns: 2 Spinal Mounted MMCs
Broadsides: 65 LGCs
Missiles: 8 Orion Missile Pods—4 on each side. 180 missiles each.
Torpedoes: 2 Fracture Torpedo Pods—2 on front. 3 torpedoes each.
Point Defense: 75 60mm Gauss Gatling Rifles
Orbital Bombardment: 1 OB Mini MC
Shielding: 1,000 kilotons
35 Spacecraft
1,800 Marines—One Amphibious Assault Regiment
Jackdaw-Class Frigate: 500 meters long, 140 meters wide.
Ship of the Line: RNS Jackdaw of the West
Specialty: Light Escort, Fast Response
Armaments:
Main Guns: 2 Spinal Mounted LMCs
Broadsides: 25 LGCs
Missiles: 5 Orion Missile Pods—2 on each side, 1 on front. 145 missiles each.
Point Defense: 40 60mm Gauss Gatling Rifles
Orbital Bombardment: 1 OB Mini MC
Shielding: 600 kilotons
15 Spacecraft
1,600 Marines—One Minor Expeditionary Regiment
Skywhale-Class Frigate: 475 meters long, 145 meters wide.
Ship of the Line: RNS Flight of the Skywhales
Source of RAF Inside Joke (Because of the name.)
Specialty: Torpedo Frigate, Light Escort
Armaments:
Main Guns: 1 Spinal Mounted LMC
Broadsides: 25 LGCs
Missiles: 4 Orion Missile Pods—2 on each side. 160 missiles each.
Torpedoes: 6 Fracture Torpedo Pods—5 torpedoes each.
Point Defense: 40 60mm Gauss Gatling Rifles
Shielding: 540 kilotons
15 Spacecraft
1,600 Marines—One Minor Expeditionary Regiment
Peltast-Class Corvette: 215 meters long, 53 meters wide.
Ship of the Line: RNS Theban Peltast
Specialty: Light Duties, Patrol
Armaments:
Main Guns: 1 Spinal Mounted MGC
Missiles: 2 Orion Missile Pods—1 on each side. 135 missiles each.
Torpedoes: 1 Fracture Torpedo Pod—1 on front. 2 torpedoes.
Point Defense: 20 60mm Gauss Gatling Rifles
Shielding: 279 kilotons
1 Spacecraft
125 Marines
UR/T-441 Condor Stealth Transport
Variant of the S-441 with the ability to cloak for stealth pickups or drop-offs.
Primary: K/L-71 Dampened Repeater Chaingun (K/L-71 DRC)
Crew: 4, Pilot, Co-Pilot, Navigator, Engineer
Passengers: 8
Tier 3AV Shields
Cargo
R15 Rapid Assault Carbine (R15 RAC)
(Republic-15 Series 3)
Muzzle Velocity: 2150 meters per second.
Uses MA-31 Rounds.
RoF: 915 RPM
Capacity: 40 Rounds
Force: 1775.78 ft-lbf
RAF's Standard Issue Carbine, Issued to Combat Engineers, Combat Medics, etc. Domestic version used by law enforcement.
R65 Albatross
(Republic-65)
Muzzle Velocity: 1800 meters per second.
Uses MA-26 Rounds.
RoF: 1,015 RPM
Capacity: 40 rounds
Force: 1043.92 ft-lbf
Standard UER/RAF submachine gun, issued to specific units as a sidearm. Civilian availability.
R14 Viper
(Republic-14 Viper)
Muzzle Velocity: 1600 meters per second.
Uses MA-20 Rounds.
RoF: 610 RPM (3 round burst).
Capacity: 21 rounds
Force: 634.48 ft-lbf
Derivation of the R2, smaller and more compact, fires burst.
R28 Harrier
(Republic-28 Harrier)
Muzzle Velocity: 3650 meters per second.
Uses MA-49 Rounds.
RoF: Bolt-Action
Capacity: 6 rounds
Force: 8089.70 ft-lbf
o High-powered, standard-issue rifle for RAF snipers and marksmen. Can punch through shields and heavy armor at extremely long ranges. Capable of taking down the barriers of an Atlas Mech in two shots. Semi-anti materiel.
AW-77 Beam Sabre
The AW-77 Beam Sabre is one of many different melee weapons used within the UER military. The main blade, the size of a medieval dagger, is composed of a nano-carbonite titanium, capable of cutting through industrial-quality steel, and can easily pierce armor or cut through heavy-duty belts or cables. The blade is further augmented by the addition of a hololight blade, which aids its overall cutting ability. The AW-77 Beam Sabre is used by many light infantry units within the UER, as well as among special forces units. However, its sibling, the AW-19 Hololight Baton is used specifically by the Special Assault Division.
AW-19 Hololight Baton
The AW-19 Hololight Baton is another use of UER hololight technology. The main weapon is composed of a telescopic baton of nano-carbonite titanium, and is a potentially lethal weapon that can easily incapacitate hostiles, or even crack skulls open and break necks. However, with the addition of the hololight blade, the baton can be used as a hacking and stabbing utility, used in close quarters combat in a style similar to those of the ancient Roman legionaries.
Author's Note:
Hey, guys, welcome to the 7th chapter of The Inheritance of Man. This was mainly a filler chapter, meant to be the intermediary between the action, but I hope you all found it satisfactory. Again, many thanks to Archangel, my beta. Please review, as all words, criticism or praise, is appreciated.
Individual Replies:
six samurai of dragon order: Don't worry, in my head canon, the Citadel/Alliance species also have vessels with comparable shields. These numbers were the product of several nights of number crunching by both me and my beta, Archangel. :)
NightWithMoon: Thanks for the criticism, Night. This is all appreciated, and I'm considering all of this. You seem to have the hang of some of the stuff you were talking about, so do you mind if I confer with you occasionally on some matters? I have my beta, Archangel, obviously, but I can take all the help I can get.
So, people were asking about the shield strengths, and here's the answer:
I'm basically using shield strengths and cannon strengths pulled from my beta's story, "Long Talons of the Hierarchy," and the forum associated with it, "Codex of the Talons verse." We basically assumed that while the Systems Alliance, as a relatively new faction, had weaker firepower than, say, the Turians. The catch is that the Alliance, after the First Contact War, ramped up their vessels' abilities-32 kilotons to 86, etc. etc. The Primarch-Class dreadnought, for example, has one to three main guns with 100.289 kt per shot, while it has around 32,000 kilotons of shielding and the Kwunu has 42,000 kilotons of shielding. On the other hand, has the Viridian-Class Battlecruiser, the closest analogue, with about 96 kt with its two main guns and 45,000 kilotons of shielding, and the Destiny Ascension has about 62,000 kilotons of shielding. If you guys want, I can copy and paste our number crunching in private messages. This is mainly a response to one of the Guest accounts and six samurai of dragon order.
Guest, the reason we're buffing the Mass Effect verse is to make up for the sheer strength of the UER. The UER itself can match the other major powers individually, but would not be able to handle the entirety of the Citadel. However, I agree, the ME universe is one of the weakest out there-Halo, Star Wars, Star Trek, they'd all dominate in this universe. The only sci-fi piece of fiction I'd think ME could handle is Battlestar Galactica. But the weakness of ME did not suit my needs, so I did buff them. If this bothers you, I apologize, but it's too far in too change it now. Thanks for your criticism, it does help, believe it or not.
