17/06/2017

I kind of forgot to ask Pax Humana and Daisy Duck to beta this one... But they have read through it, so any mistakes are my fault!

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, you are the greatest!

Part 2 The Fall of the Galaxy
Chapter 8 Geth?

-cfr-

Earth Year 2222, Arcturus Stream, Turian Patrol Vessel Gover

Captain Illo Nazario liked to think he was a prudent Turian. That's why, when the boarders did not appear in the first minutes after the Gover's failed self-destruct, he did not let his attention wane. After all, it took time to move shuttles into position.

Then their short range sensors picked up the execution of the Yulin and they had thought they would be next. Again the crew had braced for the worst but again nothing had happened, until seven of the huge ships had come close to each of them, including the now derelict Yulin. They came close enough that the short range sensors and visual surveillance could see them.

Each of them appeared the same, their design matching the ship that had attacked the Citadel, the one the Humans had insisted was called a Reaper. They were huge, almost animalistic ships, with grasping forelimbs and tapered bodies. Yet, when those limbs reached out to pull each ship close, Illo was beyond feeling anything. Then they had accelerated and while it was impossible to be precise with the instrumentation they had left, Illo's tech officer had indicated that they were travelling at least three times faster than any Turian Navy ship could boast. It was not a mass effect tunnel, rather it was old fashioned FTL travel.

And just a minute ago, he had been told their heading.

"Sol."

The word had rippled around the bridge. The huge ships were meant to be Geth. The Council, the Hierarchy all proclaimed that the Humans lied, that they were scaremongering to justify their deeds. But now he was being taken to Sol.

Had the Humans been telling the truth? The question weighed heavily on him. But then, what was their connection to the ships?

"Sound general quarters," Illo ordered. "And ready the internal comms."

A few minutes later his bridge crew all turned to him, indicating that the rest of the ship was in order.

Illo was silent for a few moments, not seeing the floor he was gazing at. He took a deep breath before speaking. "To the crew of the Gover, my family," he added the last.

Some would say it was not a time to become emotional, that he should remain strictly professional but he did not agree. His crew had chosen a military career so they were already professional. "I will not mince words, we have been defeated. We are currently being towed towards Sol. I do not know if they intend to board us or if some other fate awaits. As such, there will be no recrimination if you chose to honourably end your life.

"For those who chose to fight on, whatever the fight may be, I would ask for you to gather in the mess hall for a briefing in an hour.

"A ship of a similar design to those that attacked us has been seen once before. It led an attack on the Citadel and it was utterly defeated. For those who remember this attack, it is true that the victory required great sacrifice, but from that sacrifice, the Hierarchy and the galaxy has emerged stronger. We were attacked dishonourably, without warning, but they shall not take our fellows by surprise. It has been an honour and a privilege to both serve with you and to serve as your Captain."

With that, Illo cut the transmission and looked at his bridge crew. The stared at him with wide eyes. "It is nothing more than the truth," he told them. "Make your decision but know whichever decision you make, you have my blessings." He met the eyes of each of them in turn before rising and leaving the bridge.

He would be the first to leave the bridge, striding towards the mess hall to lead those Turians who would fight to the end.

-cfr-

Earth Year 2222, Sol

"Why have you returned?"

The demand was made before Taylor and his small fleet had even cleared the Kuiper Belt. Elysium was alone but was in a favourable position to intercept them.

"We bring you gifts," Taylor replied with good humour, allowing Elysium to see on a sub-channel the ships that they were towing.

"Why do I want Turian ships?" Elysium asked, distaste evident in the voice chosen to be the speaker. "With live Turians." The last was added with extreme dislike.

"Training," Taylor replied, offering further information with his voice link to Elysium.

The other Ascended absorbed the information. "You want me to teach them with those?" Images accompanied the question showing the differences between the vessels on offer and undamaged Turian frigates and cruisers.

"We will bring you better ones later," Taylor conceded the argument with good grace. The Turian ships had been grievously damaged in the battle. But that was the opening battle and providing training aides to Elysium had not even been a tertiary goal. As the campaign against the organics continued, specific groups could be targeted with the aim to disabling them for later use in training.

"Hmm I suppose they can hone control of mass effect fields on those with live Turians," Elysium said eventually.

"That's rather…" Taylor was a bit disappointed. He'd hauled these ships back and that was what Elysium was going to use them for? It would have been better to have the satisfaction of killing the Turians himself.

"And how long did it take you to successfully control the fields on the farm?" the challenge was unexpected.

"About three weeks," Taylor replied, responding to the authority Elysium displayed. He remembered how rough his control had been back then, despite all the practice he had done on the mining shifts. It required far more attention to maintain fine control than he had believed, though it had become easy in time for him like it was for the others.

The other Ascended remained silent as Taylor understood her point.

The new Ascended did not have the farms to practice on. Any resources they mined would be refined and used by other Ascended but that was bulk work. They would learn to control their weapons and larger mass effect fields there. Honing control to the finest level had been achieved in training on the farms, farms which had been disposed of with the last of organic Humanity. Handling the Turian ships, and keeping the Turians alive would be a difficult task for the new Ascended. It was one the Turians certainly wouldn't appreciate.

"Make it a game," he advised as one parent to another.

"The Turians won't survive football," Elysium snapped.

Taylor laughed. "Now that is a fine idea!"

"Can they self destruct?" Elysium growled the question, ignoring Taylor's mirth as the Ascended ran a scan over the damaged Turian ships.

"Harper says not," Taylor answered. "But they might be able to rig something."

"Yes… I can sense some live weapons."

"They haven't used them yet."

"You lot were fully shielded. What wasn't a threat to you could well be a threat to the children."

"True."

"All right," Elysium said. "Head back now. I'll find some use for these Turian hulks. Tell the Commander if he wants the new ones to use them as target practice, they are going to have to be in better condition next time."

"I'll let the fleet know," Taylor replied as the other Ascended released their cargo, leaving them in a stationary position far from any planet.

"I'll make sure I document the new ones practicing for those wanting all the gory details."

"Thanks. I'll let them know about your idea for football!"

"That was not a suggestion!"

"It is now."

"Get going. You've already interrupted two days worth of training. I won't have you making that three."

-cfr-

Earth Year 2222, Turian Sector Command

Kiril Enderlus scanned through his omni-tool. Really, there was little in the daily reports to hold anyone's interest. Even the most eccentric Salarian would be bored with this information, he thought to himself as he read through report after report of patrols made by individual ships or small flotillas of the generally useless systems of the Exodus Cluster. While the Humans had been around, there had been plenty to do, he mused, but since the Rebellions, no government had wanted to move back in and reclaim those worlds. Not since the Batarians had done so and got killed for it, at least.

"Sir."

"Yes, Peigi?"

"The weekly summary." Peigi Kucera handed over the data. As the personal aide to the sector commander of the Turian Navy, she had to go through even more of these reports than her boss. She was a diligent Turian, however, and very good at her job, one who had her eye on taking over for her boss when it was time for him to be promoted or retire.

"Assuming you have done your usual excellent job, why don't you go ahead and give me a verbal briefing."

"It's almost all as you'd expect, sir. The usual pirates and slavers running from our destroyers, occasional prospectors looking into some of the former mining colonies."

"The usual."

"Exactly, sir, except for the Arcturus Patrol."

Kiril frowned as he scanned his omni-tool for the latest update. "I don't see anything worrying from them in the update."

"That would be because we haven't had an update from them in several days. They're overdue reporting in."

"Send a flotilla to investigate. Who do we have nearby?"

"We have the 1634th Flotilla, sir. They're scheduled to do a flyby of the nearby systems next week anyway, so this won't take them too far out of their way."

"Do it. I'm sure it's nothing serious. The galaxy has gotten boring since I was a lad in basic training. And tell them to remind Nazario that no matter what he got away with on the expedition or how boring writing reports can be, that doesn't excuse him from sending them on time. He's the one who requested that assignment to get more 'excitement' than Home Patrol."

Kiril shook his head as he contemplated again the folly of one Illo Nazario.

"Got it, sir." Peigi made a note, sending off the orders in her commander's name and diverting a million tons of warships hundreds of light-years off on a mission to reprimand one disgracefully lazy Turian.

A day later, the 1634th arrived and sent in a report only fifteen minutes after their arrival, an admirably quick response.

Unfortunately for the Turian Navy, and the Citadel races in general, those reports were total fabrications.

-cfr-

Earth Year 2222, Arcturus Stream

"Target practice!" Zaeed shouted gleefully as several ships decelerated after coming through the central relay.

Shepard gave the equivalent of a sigh. "Calm down, everyone. Remember we want to take these ones intact. Elysium would have our hulls if they're as beaten up as the last lot, and I know Harper's itching to find out what new orders they've got."

"Spoilsport," Joker called out from within Shepard's hull but even he knew better than to disobey.

The Ascended present acknowledged Shepard's order and acted as one, sharing sensor and targeting over the network. They were far more precise in their targeting with this new group of vessels, vaporising long-range communications, all weaponry and crippling their engines while leaving the rest of the ships, and almost all the crews, intact.

On-board their targets, the Turians were far from living up to their phlegmatic reputations.

"Geth! How in all the spirits of Palaven did the damned geth get so close to Human territory?" Captain Lidan Teschius yelled at his command crew.

"They can't be Geth. The machines are on the other side of the galaxy from here! Besides, not even they could build so many dreadnoughts without us having even a clue they were doing it."

"Well look at your screens. Those dreadnoughts are right there and firing on us! Unless you think the Humans somehow built them all with no specifications in that eezo-poor hell hole they call a home system?" The Captain snorted, shaking his head to clear some of the frustrated rage from his mind. His entire fleet had been taken out less than a minute after exiting FTL.

"Sir, the ships… they've got Human names on them, symbols from the Systems Alliance and even-"

"What?" Lidan snarled when the sensor tech didn't continue.

"Cerberus." The name was hissed. A shudder ran through the crew. Thirty five years was a long time but that organisation had no honour and had terrorised Turian ground troops at every opportunity. Even on former Human planets today, they still found the occasional Cerberus booby trap.

"And that's not all!"

"What now, damn it?"

"Two of the dreadnoughts are pulling up either side of us, sir."

Lidan looked out the window. There, right in front of him, angled to catch the light of Arcturus on its hull was a name that no Turian wanted to see. 'N7. Shepard.'

"We're fucked." Lidan didn't know who had said such a thing but, defeatist or not, he couldn't disagree with the pithy evaluation.

"Yes, you are. But not quite yet." Shepard's infamous face and armoured body appeared on all their screens, ending any questions about the ships being Geth. The Human soldier appeared to be relaxed. He was even smiling slightly and the expression was not one which was comforting. "You have quite a while ahead of you before you will die.

"And take heart, Turians, you will be useful."

Lidan's heart skipped a beat as around him, his ship was towed into FTL. The oh-so-helpful Humans had splashed on screen their destination: Earth.

Behind him, though he'd never know it, the Humans were already composing messages to send to Kiril Enderlus at sector command about faulty communications buoys breaking down at inconvenient times, the problems with using equipment supplied by the lowest bidder and why he should blame shoddy Volus merchants for the delays. All supposedly from Lidan Teschius and Illo Nazario.

While they were not perfect, the fake messages worked to delay further investigation long enough for the next phase of the Human plan to begin.

-cfr-

Earth Year 2222, Serpent Nebula, Citadal Sensor Control Room

At one hundred and fifty-three years old, Riya was still young for an Asari. She was in her maiden phase and unlike many of her species the excitement of becoming a mercenary had not appealed and she just felt dirty every time she even thought about becoming a bar maid. The work of a bar maid didn't bother her, it was the extra work which left a bad taste in her mouth. She knew most Asari her age thought nothing of it. To them the work was fun, profitable and pleasurable but Riya just didn't understand it.

She saw the way aliens looked at those Asari. It was hungry, but had a hollowness that left her sickened. Her sisters were just objects to those aliens. Something to be used and then left behind. No… that was not something she wanted for herself.

Instead she had become a tech. Yes, it was a boring, normal, ordinary job but what no one seemed to realise was exactly how many techs there were. She'd counted once on her shift for the Citadel… at least half the Citadel workers had to be techs of some kind. Sensor techs, comm techs, omni-tool techs and weapon techs though they were on the Citadel defence fleet. The list went on and on. Some were involved in sales. Omni-tool techs generally sold the product as well but their primary skill was fixing omni-tools.

She was a sensor tech to be precise and while there were thousands of sensor techs, Riya liked to think she'd have the time to develop into one who was truly phenomenal. She might not have the photographic memory of a Salarian but she was no slouch and she had hundreds of years to learn. She would be the best sensor tech the galaxy had seen!

It was part of the reason Riya had volunteered for the late shifts. The Citadel had some of the best sensors available in the galaxy, and on the late shifts, when no one else was around, she could alter the settings slightly. She could shift the calibrations to investigate what the changes were.

That's why when the first blips appeared at the far edge of the range Riya wasn't sure if it was an artefact caused by her slight tweaks to the calibration or if they were real. When they didn't disappear, but instead came closer, even after she had meticulously reset the sensors, she knew they were really there.

But real what?

There were fifty signals, each coming in on individual vectors which would have them form a perfect sphere around the Citadel. Riya tapped the controls, bringing more specialised sensors to bear. A long range visual showed a blur which became clearer as the computers worked to enhance the image.

The signals were ships. Dreadnought class.

That's all she managed to read before alarms screamed from every speaker. Her screens shifted, flashing red with warnings and Riya felt her eyes widen as she read the attached report. The ships looked to be the same design as the ship which had attacked the Citadel forty years ago.

Before she had time to do anything more other techs rushed into the room and began working at the stations beside her. The alarms would have summoned them.

"When they did they appear?" Eachann, the Salarian in charge of the techs asked. He had to have come from sleep but he looked as immaculate as always.

"04:38," Riya replied. "They appeared at the same time."

"All fifty of them?" Doubt was evident in Eachann's voice but the readings did not lie.

"Yes Sir."

The Salarian was silent for a few moments, though his eyes were busy flickering over the screens taking in the information that had been collected. "Wake up Councillor Quentius," he ordered finally. "And send a signal to the Fleet."

"I have the fleet online now," another tech called out. Riya recognised the voice as belonging to Taine, one of the few Turians who worked with them. It wasn't that Turians made bad techs, it was just that those Turians who came to the Citadel usually worked for C-Sec rather than the general Citadel staff.

"Citadel Sensor Command, we've got blips coming up on our scanners, can you confirm?" The voice was coldly professional.

"Dreadnought Astrakhan, we confirm. Fifty signals, coming in from all angles," Taine replied after Eachann gave a nod of approval.

"Move to a screening position," Eachann ordered before Councillor Quentius appeared on one screen.

The Councillor had obviously been asleep and it was unusual these days to see a Turian without their facepaint. Ever since the incident with Saren and the Humans, it was only in extreme situations that you ever saw a Turian's naked face.

"What is happening?" The Councillor demanded with authority.

"At 04:38 fifty ships appeared simultaneously on the Citadel's sensors. Further scans indicated they are of the same design as the Geth dreadnought which attacked thirty-nine years ago."

The Councillor frowned. "Fifty?" he asked, blinking red eyes.

"Yes Sir," Eachann replied. "I have ordered the Citadel Fleet into screening positions."

"And they didn't come through the Relay?"

"It does not appear so."

Quentius looked thoughtful for a moment. "How much time do we have?"

"At their present speed, one hour and sixteen minutes until they are in range of the fleet's weaponry," Admiral Walenty on board the Astrakhan said.

"Understood, Admiral," Quentius replied. "I want the Citadel in lock down," he ordered. "Close the arms and start moving C-Sec into position." The Turian Councillor looked thoughtful for a few moments. "Wake up Irissa," he added. "I'll have orders for the fleet as soon as I consult her."

"It will be done," Eachann said as Admiral Walenty saluted the Councillor.

Riya continued working at her station, her fingers flying over the controls of the sensors as she sought to squeeze just a little more information from them. It was comforting to feel the calm determination coming from Councillor Quentius and Eachann but one of the Councillor's questions had struck a memory.

She frowned as she continued to work. What was it? There was something just at the edge of her mind but the alarms and noise kept it tantalisingly out of reach. She dismissed it. Whatever it was, if she could not recall it instantly, then it was peripheral. Interesting perhaps but not directly useful to the situation. Now, with a presumed hostile force bearing down upon them, was not the time to pursue random thoughts. Now was the time to show exactly how good a sensor tech she was.

-cfr-

Earth Year 2222, Serpent Nebula

"DONG!" The alert echoed at every level of his consciousness.

Udina wished he could get his ears checked. As an Ascended, however, he didn't have ears and the alert for the incoming message had been particularly brutal in its effectiveness.

After a long second spent resetting his internal systems, he opened the unexpected message, finding his second surprise in the header. From the impressions he had received from the non-Human Ascended, the Catalyst rarely communicated with any of them and when the ancient AI did so, it was almost always with Harbinger, the first of them all.

"To Human 'Udina'.

"Attached is an update on the fleets and dispositions of the races of this cycle."

Udina immediately opened the information packet and had second thoughts about the wisdom of listening to Shepard for orders. He had been stupid to think that a jumped-up grunt would have the brains to plan out a full naval campaign. There were nearly three times as many Council dreadnoughts as they had expected! Even if they were pieces of obsolete crap compared to his hull, enough hits could take out any ship.

That was when the rest of the message demanded his attention, opening itself.

"Also attached is a replay of the battle between Nazara and the organics, with commentary from Hackett and Shepard. You will watch it." Unspoken was an 'or else!'

Udina opened the file with no little trepidation. It displayed a long view of the Relay as seen from the Citadel. A moment later Nazara appeared and it was a shocking reminder how large the Sovereign was compared to the geth ships which surrounded him. Immediately all ships opened fire and Udina was surprised when the video highlighted which shots were on target. Considering the shots had to be readied before they exited light speed, the ratio of about 1 hit for every 3 fired shots fired was good.

"Nazara hit hard and fast, that was a good tactic," Shepard's voice commented over the silent video. The image shifted then, to a recording that had to come from one of the Citadel fleet. It was at an angle and displayed the Citadel on one side with Nazara's fleet on the other. "You calculate the trajectories now."

Automatically Udina felt his targeting systems activate, calculating missile trajectories as instructed. The ratios were good but he could do better.

"Nazara failed to gather appropriate targeting information," the voice belonged to Hackett as the video began playing again. "A single oculi sent in advance would have provided more accurate long range targeting information, increasing the ratio to at least a half."

The video changed again, with the image now having a slightly blurred effect that Udina recognised as coming from memory. A tactical display was shown. Nazara was well marked as an enemy and Udina watched as the Nazara symbol literally crashed through several of the Citadel's defence ships. Coming in on a secondary video stream, was imagery from the Citadel showing the broken frigates spinning away, breaking apart from the force of impact with Nazara.

"Our shields and hulls will absorb any impact with organic vessels," Shepard said, "but there was no need to ram the ships. It merely placed strain on Nazara's shields for minimal gain."

"There is another weakness in the formation," Hackett observed, which made Udina look at the tactical display again. It took him a moment to see it but he realised Hackett was correct. Paraphrasing his thoughts, Hackett continued speaking, as several sections on the display were highlighted. "Nazara was accompanied by Geth, yet still lead the formation. While Nazara was correct to hold them in contempt, he should have allowed them to shield him as much as they could. As lesser forms they would have been honoured to die for what they considered perfection."

Mentally Udina nodded but he did not relax. Any mistake Nazara made with the Geth did not apply here. His fleet was not accompanied by support ships which could be sacrificed. They were all Ascended. The video continued showing Nazara entering the Citadel just as the arms closed. The Ascended settled on the central pillar and Udina remembered what the station had felt like in that instant. The lack of information brought the most fear.

"Knowing what we do now," Shepard's voice sounded speculative, "the necessity to board the Citadel is in question, though that is hardly a consideration for you." Information accompanied the video which showed Nazara holding position. "This is the point at which we won the battle," Shepard continued, leaving Udina perplexed. Nazara was still intact. This was early in the battle for the Citadel. There should be no way that Shepard had won now.

"If we assume that Nazara had to get on to the Citadel," Hackett explained, "he should have first completely nullified the outside fleet. This was not a time sensitive mission and a few micro-jumps and speed passes would have been all that it took."

Udina nodded to himself. Nazara had avoided most of the fleet, rushing into the Citadel's arms. If it came to a battle with the Citadel fleet, and whatever reinforcements they had, the Human Ascended were already prepared to link their sensors and oculi and to fight as one unit. They had no need to get on to the Citadel and would destroy any organic fleet entirely.

"After the outside fleet was destroyed, Nazara would have had options. He could have asked the Catalyst to open the Citadel, or used his Citadel based assets at that point. Saren had a large number of geth with him and these could have been easily supplemented with husks," Shepard said. There was a faint note of smugness in the first Human Ascended's tone. Udina understood. Defeating Saren, no matter the consequences, had forever sealed a Human as the best Spectre on record. "If Nazara had planned correctly, his Citadel based assets could have done everything. There was no need for him to reveal himself."

"However," Hackett broke in, as the video showed Nazara firing on several ships. The beam weapons were devastating and Udina knew that the Ascended was putting full power into the weapons. "You will notice the way Nazara is firing?" the statement was a question.

Udina examined the video, watching as another one of Nazara's legs fired at a Turian cruiser. While the video was silent, it was still satisfying to watch the ship break apart under the onslaught.

"Nazara starts from the bottom of the ship and works his way up," Hackett commented. Udina looked again. Yes, Nazara did that which was wasteful. He had the computing power to ensure a direct hit. There was no need to trail fire like that when hitting them square on would also cut through the ship. "You have been trained not to bother to warn the target the strike is coming, you hit them the first time."

There was a flicker on the video and Udina knew that was the moment Nazara's shields had fallen. "This is the main reason Nazara lost," Shepard interrupted Udina's thoughts on targeting information. With Shepard's voice came the memory of the Turian Saren Arterius' death. Udina was quietly impressed. There wasn't much left of the Turian but imposed on the purely Human memory further information was knowledge that could only have come from an Ascended.

Saren's death, while Nazara was the main consciousness had caused a temporary feedback loop. The loss of the main consciousness had closed the links between Nazara's gestalt mind and his functions. Shields, weaponry, communications. All had failed which allowed the Normandy's salvo to damage and destroy the Vanguard.

The video played, showing Nazara's destruction as caught by some of the Citadel's cameras.

"You will not be using an avatar, Udina. None of us will, and if the situation arises where we have to, we are not so stupid as to lack protection against death feedback." Shepard said the last with a note of satisfaction. As Humans they may not have expected the feedback loop to cause Nazara's shields to fail but they had taken ruthless advantage of the situation.

Mentally Udina's eyes narrowed as the video ended. It was true, none of them would have need of an avatar, so the weakness Nazara displayed would not affect them. And all of them knew better than to rely on an overgrown bird! At the tail end of the vid was some further information. Ship specs scrolled for a little while and Udina read them. They were military specs and he could see how his Ascended form outclassed each and every one of them.

"You've made your point," Udina said to the vid, even though the comm was not two way.

The integrity of his hull against the Asari, Turian and Salarian dreadnoughts sure to come was assured. He would not make the same mistakes as Nazara. No Human Ascended would because they knew better. They had trained more, the sloppy tendencies had been drummed out of them all in the monotonous work of mining and the fine control required by farming. And they did not have the duties of the Vanguard.

So what if the Council summoned their entire fleet!

"Let them come!" Udina snarled to the other Ascended with him. They would be ready.

-cfr-

Earth Year 2222, Serpent Nebula, Asari Ambassador's Quarters

Irissa blinked. Her quarters were dark but there was an incessant alarm. "What is it?" she asked, tasting her mouth. She was on holiday and things like Council meetings were not meant to be called at - she squinted towards the glowing numbers that told the time - 04:57. Quentius better have a very good reason for this.

"There are hostile ships inbound."

The Asari Councillor blinked. "Hostile ships?"

"Geth dreadnoughts," Quentius clarified.

That woke Irissa up. She sat up, running one hand over her crests. "How many?" she asked.

"Fifty," Quentius said, his mandibles held steady.

"Fifty! That's not possible!"

"I didn't make up the numbers. I've ordered the Citadel to close."

Irissa nodded. After the disaster with the last Geth attack on the Citadel, the security protocols for the Council had been altered. No longer did they evacuate to a dreadnought. Instead they stayed on the Citadel, closing the arms and waiting out an attack. Extra supplies had been brought in and any hostile force would have to storm the Citadel to capture them. "I'll head to the Council chambers," she said.

"I'll be there. We need to decide what to do with the fleets," Quentius said.

The Asari Councillor quickly rose, dropping the sheets to the floor as she went to her cupboard for a robe. Her bed robe was not appropriate attire, no matter how desperate the situation. "We don't have the numbers to attack," the question was phrased as a statement and Irissa was pleased to see Quentius twitch slightly.

"The Citadel Fleet has grown over the years," he said, "but you're right, we do not have enough ships here to take on fifty geth dreadnoughts." For his part, the Turian Councillor was pleasantly surprised. Irissa was showing a far more reasonable grasp of military strategy than he had anticipated. He had been bracing himself for a shouting match about how the Citadel fleet should be assigned.

"I presume messages have already gone to the homeworlds?"

"That was the first thing that happened." Another change triggered by the disastrous attack. Distress calls, authenticated by sensor information were now automatic. "The Hierarchy is already scrambling ships. I assume your government will be sending you a similar message."

Irissa shed her bed robe, slipping a comfortable but formal looking day robe into place as she picked up her omni-tool and several other smaller pieces of equipment. She had only spent a few years as a mercenary in her youth but it had taught her to never be completely unarmed. She wanted to bang her head as a thought struck her.

"What of the Salarians?"

It was going to be frustrating dealing with the Salarians without their Councillor but they had not yet dispatched a replacement for Linron, who at thirty-two, had been young when she died. It was why Irissa had been on holiday. No meaningful Council decisions could be made without the full Council.

"We'll just have to make do," Quentius said. "Precedent has been set for defence situations to override normal protocol."

As Irissa moved through the corridors, maintaining her conversation with Quentius over the link, she felt one eye ridge raise despite herself. That sentence sounded like it should have come from a Salarian. Quentius, while unusually diplomatic for a Turian, didn't usually care about precedent but about getting the job done. "What do you advise?"

Quentius' small image rubbed one eye ridge. "Any suggestion will depend on the incoming ships. No attack force comes in so scattered and slow, so I find it hard to guess what they want."

"What is their formation?" Irissa asked. She wasn't an Admiral but she understood the basics.

"A sphere."

"A sphere?" she questioned, frowning. The lift moved quickly this morning and she was soon striding through the gardens that preceded the Council Chambers.

"They are coming in on multiple vectors," Quentius clarified, linking her to the Citadel sensors so she could see their approach. "It looks like they are coming from everywhere."

Irissa slowed as she looked at the image. This early in the morning there were no concerns about a spy catching a glance at the screen but even if one was trying the projection from her omni-tool was keyed to her. Unless the spy was directly behind her, all they would see was the light of the hologram with no details. The ships were indeed coming in on the sphere. "That…"

"It's not a formation that makes sense," Quentius agreed. In the corner of the hologram was a close up of one of those vessels.

"No," Irissa said slowly. "None of those ships came through the Relay?" she asked.

"We would have noticed them earlier," Quentius said, cutting the call as Irissa entered the Council Chambers.

"We are positive on that?"

"I think we can rely on the sensor techs to at least get that right."

"Do you know what this means?"

"What what means?" Quentius asked.

Irissa sighed. "The only way to get to the Citadel is via the Relays. If you are telling me that the Geth ships did not come through the Relay then they must somehow know where the Citadel is."

Quentius blinked but before he could speak Irissa continued.

"When we first discovered the Citadel, the Salarians tried for about 500 years to locate it. Those ships are still out there," the Asari Councillor waved one hand towards the image of the Nebula. "Somewhere." Her expression changed to one of long suffering understanding. "Periodically, some young hotshot thinks he's come up with a new sensor suite or new computers or an extended drive range that will finally succeed where thousands of others have died trying to find it.

"That these Geth ships know where the Citadel is." She didn't bother to finish the statement.

The Turian Councillor nodded before taking a deep breath. "We have eight dreadnoughts in the defence fleet, each with their support fleet. There are fifty incoming geth dreadnoughts and forty years ago it took all three Citadel dreadnoughts, their fleets and two Human fleets to defeat one with its fleet." He paused. "If we attack, we cannot win."

"I can see that," Irissa replied before frowning. "Have we tried opening communications?" It was a long shot but when staring down certain defeat, a long shot was perhaps the best option.

Quentius didn't look hopeful as he flicked through some files. "Reports from last time indicate that the ship only responded to the Human Spectre."

"Which was just more proof of Shepard's culpability. There has to be some other reason the Geth are here this time."

"So you are suggesting the fleet holds fire until we know what they are here for?"

"You have another suggestion?" Irissa challenged.

"Nothing practical," Quentius said. "However, I do not like the idea of letting fifty enemy dreadnoughts do as they please right here at the Citadel. It goes against every bit of my military training. But until reinforcements arrive, any attack is doomed to fail."

"Then order them to hold fire, and the Citadel will open communications," Irissa did not outrank Quentius but it was a tradition dating back to his race's ascension to a Council seat that military communications came from the Turian Councillor.

Quentius nodded and Irissa sat as he spoke to Admiral Walenty and Eachann. She sent an aide to fetch tea. Whatever happened, this was going to be a long day.

-cfr-

Review please. They are currently going to power Human vengeance because it's a big galaxy, and there is a lot of vengeance to spread around