A/N - Blimey, this one kicked my ass. Hit a brick wall in the middle that took me a couple of months to get through. But the big finish begins here ;)
MARCH 27th 2157
Arcturus Station, Floor 500
Thomas felt a tingling in his arms at the tone in Jon Grissom's words. However much he tried to hide it, here was a man who had learned of a dreadful situation and had no idea what to do about it. His whole body language was downcast - as though he'd spent an entire night trying to figure out a course of action and, for the time being at least, had come up completely empty. And yet, the shield of determination he was showing was strong; he had people to inspire and he knew it.
"Shortly before 11pm GMT yesterday I received a message from a badly damaged surveillance drone," he began, his voice mostly devoid of both energy and emotion. "The colony of Shanxi has been... invaded by an unidentified alien force."
Thomas barely registered the gasps scattered across the room. Despite the hunch that he'd had about the nature of the news, he still felt a chill down his spine now that it was actually happening.
I knew it. I fucking knew it.
"What do you mean 'invaded'? Do we know anything about these... aliens?" Admiral Beckman slowly said, a clear shakiness in her voice.
"Well, Admiral, as far as I know 'invaded' has only one meaning," Grissom replied coarsely, clearly not in the mood to be questioned. "And it is exactly that. Shanxi has been attacked and presumably occupied by a hostile alien force. The aliens themselves, we know nothing about. For all we know, it could be the Protheans. I'm sure they wouldn't be too happy about us... borrowing their technology, after all."
I don't think it's the Protheans. There's more recent evidence of other species; I bet it's one of them.
"According to the surveillance drone," Grissom continued, beginning to pace around the head of the room once again. "First contact was made with the invaders on March 3rd. It appears a group of Shanxi's patrol ships were attempting to activate a dormant mass relay they had discovered, and these aliens found them and took offence to their actions."
The atmosphere in the room was unlike anything Thomas had ever experienced before. The shuttle ride after the close call on the desert moon had been difficult, but this was different; back then, it had been as much about relief as it had been shock. This time, the only quantifiable emotion hanging in the air was a primal fear - a fear of facing a threat that they couldn't yet explain, something that no human knew absolutely anything about.
"How did the drone make it back to the mass relay?" Drescher enquired. "They're designed for short range only. It shouldn't have been able to make it from one mass relay to another."
Grissom stopped for a second, rubbing his chin as he considered how to word his response.
"Perhaps I was unclear. The aliens didn't need to search for Shanxi after intercepting the ships at the mass relay. One ship - which was followed by the invaders, of course - managed to return and warn the colony, and the drone was then launched from the planet. As Captain Jameson here will know, the Shanxi-Theta relay is a very short distance from the planet, a similar distance to Luna from Earth. It would be easy for a small drone to slip out unnoticed, which, evidently, it did."
He's right. It's a stretch, but very possible. One of the comm buoys must have picked it up after it cleared the relay.
"Do we know what the status of the colony is now?" Admiral Beckman quietly asked, her tone thickly permeated by worry. Grissom took a deep breath, growing more and more impatient.
"To be frank, no. The drone was launched immediately as the colony was attacked," he replied, slowly and grimly. "The probe was launched 3 weeks ago - anything could have happened in that time."
This is insane... I still can't believe it's actually happening.
"So... what do we do?" Thomas blurted out, without thinking. "We have to come up with some kind of plan, even a basic one."
Grissom shot him a withering look that instantly made him want to disappear into a hole, his expression screaming "don't you think I already thought of that?"
"Luckily, Captain," he continued, his tone almost as patronising as his facial expression. "I already have a preliminary course of action. The probe we received showed us the direction that the invaders came from - uncharted space to us, of course. I have ordered the construction of forty long-range exploration drones fitted with twenty-kiloton nuclear warheads, to be fired in the general direction of the invaders space. This will allow us to construct a basic map of the aliens' space without risk of them getting insight into our technology."
A small gasp whistled its way around the room. Harsh, but makes sense...
"But... that's crazy!" President Winters interjected, finally overcoming the shock of the situation enough to join the conversation. "What if the probes reach their homeworld? They could kill millions!"
Without missing a beat, Grissom added an extra touch of scowl to his expression, almost offended at the remark.
"And for all we know, President, these aliens have already murdered every resident of Shanxi in cold blood. We cannot jump in with guns blazing, or we could be at risk of starting a war that may end with the annihilation of the human race. Before we begin a full counterattack, we must learn more about our enemy."
He glared at the President for a moment, daring him to reply again as he shrivelled back into his seat. When he was satisfied that no response was forthcoming, he continued, the cold calmness in his voice returning.
"Alliance R&D will immediately begin using data recovered from the Mars Archive to draw blueprints for weapon and shield advancements to be made to all current classes of ship. Admiral Drescher, you will order your fleet to report here for upgrades as soon as these advancements are ready to be rolled out."
"Those are exploration ships. They're not designed for combat." Drescher bluntly replied. Grissom didn't even turn to look at him.
"Admiral, if I'm not mistaken, every ship currently serving in the Alliance is an exploration ship. The ships of the Second Fleet are newer-generation; it will be easier to apply technological upgrades to them than the ships of the First Fleet."
Thomas glanced over and he could see Drescher trying to formulate a response, but whatever words he thought of never made it into a sentence.
Wow... Drescher, speechless. You don't see that every day.
"Quite by chance, my purpose on this station at the moment is to meet the first graduates of our new N7 program; the Alliance's first generation of elite galactic commandos," Grissom carried on. "In due course, we will consult with them about a plan for a possible ground assault on Shanxi, ideally leading to a liberation of the colony if necessary."
Galactic commandos? They kept that one quiet.
"Once again. I cannot stress enough that this information is not to leave this room," Grissom continued sternly. "If this is made public, it could cause widespread panic among the entire human race. It's important that we remain calm until we can consider a definitive course of action."
Thomas found himself clenching his jaw involuntarily at Grissom's choice of words.
So, our people have been invaded by a hostile alien race and we're supposed to "remain calm"? Fan-fucking-tastic.
"In the meantime, I request that you all remain on Arcturus Station until further notice. I will be meeting the N7 graduates later today, and from there, we will work with Alliance Command to decide how best to proceed. Any questions?"
With that, the room fell silent; it was as much a statement of "we're done here" than an actual enquiry. Only the tension of a thousand questions that no-one had the courage to ask hung in the air.
"Very well," Grissom continued. "This meeting is adjourned. I will keep you all up to date as necessary."
Without a further word, Grissom immediately swept towards the doors and out of the meeting room, leaving everyone present all but paralysed with shock. The only sounds in the room were the gentle thrum of the station's systems ticking over, overload with heavy, laboured breathing – the sound of a group of people completely stunned into silence.
No-one else left their seats. Admiral Beckman could only stare straight ahead of her – unwilling or unable to move. She had retired from active service in the UNAS army long before the Prothean ruins were discovered, and in the 10 years before that, humanity had finally known something resembling world peace. President Winters simply shook his head, barely able to comprehend the situation that was unfolding. He was a politician, not a soldier; there hadn't been a major war for him to contend with in his entire career thus far.
What the hell are we supposed to do?
It was at least a few minutes before Thomas finally forced a coherent thought through his mind. Almost at that exact moment, Admiral Drescher rose from his seat, moving slowly to the head of the room where Jon Grissom had stood minutes before.
"Well, for now, there's nothing we can do…" he said quietly, the usual confidence he carried so well finally wavering just slightly, unnerving Thomas a little. "We've just got to carry on doing what we're doing, and when the time comes, we'll hit Shanxi hard enough to send these bastards scurrying back to whatever hole they came from."
Thomas couldn't help but feel his eyes drawn to the Admiral as he made his statement, and despite his greatest fears about the situation, the sheer force of the words lit the slightest flicker of something deep within his gut.
It's not fear. There's already enough of that to go around.
Almost immediately, there was a subtle shift in the attitude of everyone in the room. There was no denying that Admiral Drescher was an incredibly impressive man; a born leader, able to inspire the deepest devotion in anyone around him. But never did Thomas expect that he'd be able to bring about such a change in attitude from the lowest point of despair to a renewed feeling of vigour with only two sentences.
It's anger…
STANDBY, SHORE PARTY. DECONTAMINATION IN PROGRESS
Thomas sighed wistfully as the thrumming white field passed over him, and he shivered involuntarily at the slight tingling sensation that followed. It was a touch of normality on a day that had been anything but.
It's only been an hour since Grissom told us… but it feels like a whole other life. And now I have to keep it a secret from the people I spend every day with.
He shuddered at the thought. Somehow, he had to hide his knowledge of the most historically significant war in the entirety of humankind's lifetime from one of the smartest crews in the Alliance without raising any kind of suspicion that anything was amiss at all.
It's not like he hadn't been expecting it. He'd had enough concerned conversations from Keeley during the last year over the idea that the first aliens humanity came across might not be too friendly, but now that it was actually happening, a small part of his psyche refused to believe it in the hope that the meeting with the Admirals was just a twisted, paranoid dream.
Nope, it's happening. As horrific as it is, this is it. This is First Contact.
DECONTAMINATION IN PROGRESS
For some reason, he found it utterly incredible that as he'd begun making his way back to the ship, the standard routine of life aboard the station happening around him had continued as if it were any other day; serene, hopeful, without a care in the world. Only five people out of thousands knew the ugly truth, himself included – the truth that something ugly was brewing, about to bubble over.
As much as he knew he shouldn't, he found himself wondering what the outcome could be. Surely there must be a way for a peaceful future with whoever these aliens were? Given the likelihood that they were using the same lost technology as humanity, he refused to even consider the idea that they were conquerors.
Come to think of it… why couldn't they be? If things go bad and they discover where Earth is…
CREW ALERT – CAPTAIN JAMESON IS ABOARD. XO BYRNE STANDS RELIEVED
Thomas was so caught up in his thoughts that the pneumatic swish of the airlock door opening made him jump slightly, and he stepped out onto the bridge to find it unusually empty. Only a couple of engineering staff and a security officer were present, all of whom turned and gave relaxed salutes to the Captain as the ship's computer announced his return. Weakly, he returned the salute, his subconscious forcing him to carry on as normal so as not to give anything away. Immediately his body became rigid – back straightening, shoulders pulled back, his outward appearance carrying all the confidence of a Captain at the top of his game.
It's what they need to see. It's what everyone will need to see when the news gets out.
Making his way down the stairs toward the lower deck, the door slid open to reveal almost the entire crew sat around the mess tables, conducting their various conversations. Thomas couldn't help but smile faintly, the turmoil raging away at his mindset abating for just a second.
My crew.
These are the most loyal, brilliant people I know.
How can I possibly lie to them?
…
His mind was drawing a blank as the occupants of the mess suddenly noticed his presence, hushing their conversations and turning to him, expectant looks on their faces. From one of the centre tables, Commander Byrne stood up.
"Captain?"
Thomas' eyes shot around to the Commander as the single word brought him crashing back into reality.
"Something wrong?"
His mind raced at lightning speed as the whirlwind of emotions bounced back and forth between two opposite points, the absolute reality of the situation growing bitterer by the second.
I can't tell them.
I HAVE to tell them.
Deep down, he could feel bile rising in his throat as the inner struggle raged.
"We're grounded on Arcturus Station until further notice," he finally blurted out. "Ship repairs are going to be taking a little longer than planned. Feel free to do whatever you want on the station while we're here, just know that we won't be leaving any time soon."
To his surprise, the room remained quiet but for a few whispers as he began making his way towards his cabin. They were too quiet for him to pick out any specific words or sentences, but the majority didn't seem too happy about being stuck on the station without a leaving date in sight.
I'm not happy either. But what can I do? I can't tell them, but I know we can't leave either…
He didn't even hear the sound of his cabin door closing behind him as he simply crashed down onto his bed, despondent.
I can't face these people every day while I'm keeping a secret like this. Our people are fighting and dying out there and it's my fucking fault for putting them there.
His ears pricked slightly at the unmistakable sound of the cabin door swishing open and closed once again.
"Sir, tell me what's really going on. This is bigger than a ship malfunction."
Not even turning his head to acknowledge Lieutenant Waters' entrance, he simply remained lying still.
"It's nothing." He replied simply. Waters let out a bitter laugh.
"Please. I've known you long enough to know when you're bullshitting. Something big is going down and you're going to tell me about it."
He closed his eyes and clenched his fists involuntarily as the self-hatred at the back of his mind that he'd thought long since banished began to take hold once again.
It's all my fault.
"I can't tell you. Alliance protocol. It's classified at the highest level."
Again, Waters laughed bitterly at the Captain's stubbornness.
"Fuck the protocol! You've already just admitted that something's happening if it's that highly classified. Just get it the hell off your chest and tell me!"
Suddenly, Thomas found himself swing around, back up onto his feet, marching towards the Lieutenant, his resolve crumbling into nothingness.
"Fine. Imagine you had a recurring nightmare. The very reason for your existence is now the reason that hundreds of people are dying. Imagine that every time you had that nightmare, you'd considered quitting what you love doing for fear of it actually happening."
He inhaled deeply as he finally ran out of air, forcing the words out in a single breath as he went along, suddenly very aware that he was almost shouting. He could feel his still-clenched fists beginning to shake from the tension. Exhaling deeply, he lowered his tone almost to a whisper as he continued.
"Now imagine that one day, one random day, someone called you into an office and told you that that nightmare has become reality."
Stood no more than three feet away from Waters by now, he found himself watching every detail of her face as she processed his words. Her features melted into a frightened worry as the reality dawned on her.
"….what's happened?" she eventually said slowly, her voice shaking. Thomas closed his eyes and turned away, though holding his position for the moment.
"Shanxi…" He took another long, composing deep breath, choosing his words carefully.
"Shanxi has been invaded by a hostile alien force. Those people… they're only there because I discovered the place, and now for all we know, they could be dead. It's all my fault…" He closed his eyes as a sudden surge of anger overwhelmed him, and he stepped away from the Lieutenant cautiously as the urge to lash out at something, anything, began to grow stronger.
"Those people are dying because I put them out there. I've been worrying about it happening for months… and now here it is. First Contact. It should have been fantastic…"
The rush of anger subsided as he reached the window, and he found himself immediately feeling exhausted as he leant on the windowsill, hanging his head as a million possibilities of the condition of Shanxi and its people flashed through his mind. He imagined the prefab buildings burning, riddled with bullet holes from combat between the Alliance protectors and their alien invaders. He saw innocent men, women and children running for cover as the invaders advanced mercilessly, destroying everything in their path.
"Captain…" Waters abruptly interrupted his daydreaming, softly placing a hand on his shoulder. "There was no way for you to know this would happen. First Contact was always going to be either peaceful or hostile… there was nothing you could do about it either way."
Despite her best attempts at comforting the Captain, he continued simply staring out into the starfield ahead. He began to tremble as the images flashing through his mind began to take hold.
Not this time.
"It doesn't matter. I put them there. They wouldn't be dying if not for me," he asserted, attempting to force some authority into his tone. "It's my job to fix it. Somehow."
The Lieutenant pulled her hand away, stepping back just slightly as her expression changed to one of disbelief at what she'd just heard.
"So… what? You're gonna charge down there and get us all killed?" she replied, sternly. "There's nothing we can do right now without committing treason and getting us all thrown in prison or worse. We just have to wait until the Alliance comes up with a plan."
At that, Thomas impulsively swung around, flailing his arms in exasperation, but whatever argument he was about to make caught in his throat, and he slumped.
"I know… it's just frustrating," his tone had quietened down somewhat, and he slumped back against the window, downcast. "Grissom was talking about launching probes in the direction the aliens came from, upgrading ships for battle and such… all the while, people on Shanxi will be suffering and there's nothing we can do. I hate feeling powerless…"
Waters looked away for a moment, folding her arms as she seemingly put some thought into an idea.
"Is there any way… maybe you could put some kind of pressure on the Alliance to speed things up? There must be some kind of sensitive spot you could kick."
Still slumped against the window, he nevertheless lifted his head a little as he considered her words.
It's not a bad idea. As long as you're very, very careful anyway.
Back across the room, he saw the Lieutenant begin to show the beginning of a wry smile.
"That's the spirit, sir. Let me know if you need anything."
Turning on her heel, she quickly left the room as ideas began to race through Thomas' mind.
It's still treason, espionage, whatever the hell you want to call it. You've got to be VERY careful.
He stood still for a few minutes more, deep in thought. Straight away, he could think of a few wild ideas, but not many of them were realistically possible. He knew he couldn't go halves on this; treason was still a capital offence, after all. He'd be risking his career, his family, his whole life.
But he just couldn't ignore the image that was rapidly burning itself into his mind – the idea of the people of Shanxi suffering. He couldn't knowingly allow it to continue any longer than it absolutely had to now that the idea was planted in his mind.
If I'm gonna do this, I have to do it properly. No bullshit.
The ideas were still flying around his head as he sat down at his terminal, his increasingly natural confidence beginning to return. There were still plenty of thoughts, but a certain few were beginning to refine themselves. Leaning forward, he clasped his hands together and, after a further couple of minutes thought, hit the button to power up his terminal.
APRIL 11th, 2157
Jupiter Café, Floor 193, Arcturus Station
He'd never expected to find himself here again. Normally, somewhere he was just before his world was shattered would be a place that he'd avoid for the rest of his life, and yet here he was once again, silently observing the hushed whispers of the people around him as he sipped on his coffee.
A distinct air of worry had descended upon the general population of Arcturus since the news of the war had been made public ten days earlier. It hadn't been a planned reveal by the Alliance; in fact, most of the human race had immediately assumed it to be an April Fool, given the date that the news surfaced. But when the Alliance press office eventually stated that the news was absolutely real, it seemed that not many people knew how to react.
Apart from Jon Grissom, anyway.
Word across the station had it that he had flown into a rage at the announcement, having planned to keep it secret until a plan was finalised to counterattack the invaders and liberate Shanxi. Naturally, he had immediately set about finding the source of the leak, putting almost as much effort into his investigation as he had about drawing initial attack plans.
The man's a glorified pilot, not a strategist. He'll never be able to fine-tune the details of an attack plan like that. And the leak doesn't matter, because it's impossible to find it. He's wasting his time. And everyone else's.
Either way, the leak had had its intended effect – upgrading of the ships in the Second Fleet had begun the very next day, with the very latest in experimental weapons technology and a new concept known as a kinetic barrier that he'd been completely spellbound by when informed of how it worked.
I'd say modern technology is wonderful, but look what it's doing to us…
He shook his head, dismissing the irritatingly doubting thoughts from his mind as he took another sip of his coffee. After the short breakdown he'd suffered upon the revelation of the invasion, he'd slowly began to assert himself within the next couple of days, and he was finally beginning to feel himself again.
Cool, calm, confident. That's me. In theory.
He idly found himself listening to the whispers of the other occupants of the café. With no real information to base their assumptions on, he'd heard all manner of opinions over the last few days – some believed that Shanxi had been lost, some said they had seen alien ships in the sky at night-time. The reality was that there was no news, not yet. And that was the thing he hated most – not knowing. Although Shanxi had its own small military force, there was no telling what had happened to it.
"Attention please. Admiral Kastanie Drescher, please report to Floor 215b immediately. Thank you."
Thomas' ears pricked at the announcement, sending a brief shiver down his spine – it was a code, designed to disguise the existence of a high-level meeting from any potential leaks. Thankfully, the announcement was made in an infinitely more soothing voice this time, the light, synthesised female tone almost relaxing.
Standing up, he once again checked his uniform for imperfections before making his way towards the elevator. If such a high-level meeting as this had been called it probably meant that progress had been made on the plan to counterattack. Either way, it called for the presence of the calm and composed Captain Jameson.
This all feels pretty familiar…
Arcturus Station, Floor 500
Once again, the elevator ride up to the command centre of Floor 500 felt as though it took forever, but this time, Thomas felt none of the apprehension that he'd felt the first time. He was not only satisfied that he'd done his part to bring a swifter end to the devastation that had presumably been taking place on Shanxi, but also that his tracks had been sufficiently covered in his part to reveal it.
His thoughts were interrupted by the quiet swish of the elevator door opening in front of him, revealing the familiar, darkened setting of the command centre. However, this time, he was the first to arrive aside from Grissom himself, who looked as though he hadn't slept in a week, such was his increasingly haggard appearance.
"Ah, Captain Jameson. Please, take a seat," he said, only taking a brief look to register his presence. His tone was flat and utterly devoid of emotion, though Thomas still couldn't help feeling cowed by the sheer authority carried in his figure, and he sheepishly took the first seat he came to, trying not to watch the Admiral pacing fervently at the head of the room.
One by one, over the next few minutes, the remaining members of the original priority meeting arrived – Admiral Drescher looked as bold and confident as ever, knowing that the work to upgrade his fleet's ships was underway; Admiral Beckman looked apprehensive, having made publicly clear her opinion that the Alliance should not go charging back in the reclaim Shanxi without knowing exactly what they were up against first. President Winters looked bedraggled, having spent much of the last ten days fielding public questions as soon as it was revealed that he was the only Earth leader to be included in the initial announcement of the invasion.
All of them looked as though they were ready for the situation to pass.
But all of them knew it wasn't going to just go away.
"Before we begin, allow me to make one thing absolutely clear." Grissom began ominously, his low voice sending a chill around the room. "My investigation into the leak has led me to the conclusion that it was not possible for the press to gain knowledge of the invasion by themselves. Which means that someone in this room is responsible for the leak."
Shit.
A tinge of worry shot through Thomas' mind.
"I will admit that I have a clear suspect," he continued, stepping forward to lean on the central desk, casting his eyes around the room and boring deep into each individual as he went, looking for signs of weakness or reaction. "But I cannot make a move on this suspicion without further evidence. So before we continue, I invite the culprit to stand forward." He stood up straight again, deliberately removing a hint of the threatening tone from his voice.
"Stand forward now, and you will face only the lightest retribution for your actions. If you remain silent, the investigation shall continue until I am absolutely certain of the culprit, who will be subsequently charged with the offence of treason against the human race."
In a second, the air became thick with tension as Grissom began to glare around the room. Everyone began shifting uncomfortably in their seats under his gaze, and Thomas could sense an underlying feeling that someone was begging for it to stop, almost to the point where they'd say something untrue just for the relief.
It's almost torture…
"Fine! It was me!"
Thomas' head jerked up suddenly, his heart skipping a beat as everyone in the room turned to look at the source of the admission. He realised he was holding his breath as he winced involuntarily, before he realised that he hadn't actually said anything.
"…it was me."
He turned to look at the source of the voice and, to his surprise, found himself watching as President Winters stood up sheepishly from his seat, withering under Grissom's iron glare.
But… WHAT?
"I had to! Those people are dying out there, the public had a right to know!" His voice was raised, bordering on shrill as he attempted to explain himself, gesticulating wildly. Grissom merely folded his arms and continued staring him down, his jaw clenching as he attempted to contain his clear anger at what he had just heard.
"Thank you, Mr Winters," he eventually replied, putting a heavy emphasis on the 'Mister'. "You are dismissed. I shall arrange for a shuttle to return you to Earth."
Not even waiting for a response, the Admiral immediately turned his back on the group, facing out the window into the starfield, indicating that the conversation was very much at an end. Winters merely slumped, looking as though he wanted to say more, but at the clear absence of any attention from Grissom, he could do nothing but turn and shuffle towards the elevator, avoiding any semblance of eye contact with the remaining group.
…What just happened?
Before he could think any further, Grissom had turned back to the group, every sign of anger having disappeared from his expression.
"Moving along. Upgrades to the Second Fleet are underway, with completion forecast for April 17th. In that time, we must prepare our counterattack strategy. Our squad of N7 graduates are scheduled to arrive half an hour from now; in the meantime, I will update you on the developments in the situation."
Updates? We actually have new information?
"Yesterday, we successfully landed an improvised surveillance probe undetected in the outskirts of Shanxi, from which we've already learned a number of things," he began. Tapping at a display on the central console, an image of the colony appeared from the centre.
"First and foremost, the colony has not been destroyed. It has merely been… occupied by the invaders. Casualties are so far mostly restricted to the local military, rather than civilians."
It took every ounce of Thomas' being not to make a sarcastic comment at Grissom's choice of words, though he felt a touch of relief.
'Merely occupied' indeed. Suppose it's better than nothing.
"On the subject of the local military, it would appear that the battle after the initial invasion lasted eighteen days, after which the commanding officer, General Howard Williams, surrendered the colony to the invaders."
A hard edge forced its way into Grissom's final few words, and an audible gasp echoed around the room.
"He surrendered? Just like that?" Admiral Drescher sounded almost incredulous, disbelief etched deep into his expression. Admiral Beckman turned to him.
"Wouldn't you?" she began. "You would keep fighting against overwhelming odds and risk the lives of all your people?"
"Yes," he replied bluntly, almost before Beckman had finished speaking herself. "The fight is not lost as long as any soldier still stands. Might I remind you that if Winston Churchill had given up in the face of the threat he and his people faced, the world would be a very different place today?"
The argumentative expression on Beckman's face quickly gave way to defeat, as she knew she would be unable to counter Drescher's argument. At the head of the room, Grissom had simply folded his arms, scowling at the interruption until he had everyone's attention once again.
"As I was saying," he continued, his voice thick with irritation. "We have also learned a little about the invaders themselves."
At that, Thomas' eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. Grissom tapped a button on his display once again, and the image projected from the console changed to a picture.
The corner of a prefab building was clearly visible in the forefront, but off to the side, three standing figures could be seen, their misshapen bodies making them obviously alien in origin. All three figures were holding similar devices to the weapons found at the destroyed alien base, but they held them with two-clawed talons. Thin waists gave way to a large, rounded torso, and a head sporting a three-pronged crest and remarkably avian features.
Wait, avian…
"Holy shit…" he blurted out involuntarily, his eyes transfixed by the image before him. "That's… that's…"
In the corner of his eye, he saw Admiral Drescher focus on the picture that little bit more, recoiling in shock when he realised the truth.
"Species C," he said quietly.
"Species C… that's them. That's definitely them."
Even Grissom looked a little taken aback by their assertion, squinting on the picture himself.
"I'm dead certain," Thomas continued. "I've looked over that report and studied the pictures in detail a hundred times. I'm absolutely positive it's species C from the alien base."
Grissom stared at the image a few seconds longer, his eyebrows raising slightly when he made the connection. However, he declined to say anything, merely returning to his standing position.
"Nevertheless, we have an actual name for them now. They're called 'Turians'" he continued, apparently having already forgotten Thomas' revelation.
"Do we have any idea how many of them there are, sir? Or anything about their technology?" Drescher replied, his already on planning the counterattack. Grissom once again began pacing around the head of the room, one hand on his chin in thought.
"I believe there are approximately nine hundred of the invaders present. It seems they're using the same lost Prothean technology that we are," he said, his words muffled slightly by his hand over his mouth. "Albeit a little more advanced. Clearly, they've had more time with it than we have. Which means we'll have to be cautious. There's no telling what kind of tricks they could have up their sleeves."
"True, but at the end of the day, a bullet is a bullet," Thomas interjected before he'd even realised he'd thought of anything to say. "Even if they have this same 'kinetic barrier' technology we've just developed, regular bullets would still be effective against that."
A barely audible ding sounded in the middle of Thomas' sentence, drawing Grissom's attention away. With a slightly confused expression, he took a look at his watch.
"Well. It seems our group of N7's has decided to join us earlier than expected," he said, almost sounding pleased. He began moving toward the elevator in anticipation of their arrival, while Thomas and Drescher resumed their hushed conversation as Beckman listened.
"You're right. Kinetic barrier technology would still be susceptible to traditional gunfire," Drescher continued. "Perhaps even more so, given that the projectiles are much larger than these newer weapons. It could even be an advantage."
"There's no way of knowing without testing," Beckman added. "I'll arrange that as soon as possible."
In the background, Thomas heard the quiet swish of the elevator door opening behind him, signifying the commandos' arrival. He could just about hear Grissom offering them pleasantries over the hushed tones of his own discussion.
"Good idea. As for heavy fire, explosives should be just as effective as they always have been…"
A loud, demanding cough suddenly broke through the conversation.
"Officers," he began, a hint of pride in his voice. "Allow me to introduce you to our very first graduates of the Interplanetary Combatives Training Academy; our very first N7 Commandos."
On cue, Thomas and the Admirals turned on their heels to be greeted by another four figures stood ahead of them, all in Alliance fatigues. The first to catch his attention was a massive, imposing woman, easily over six feet in height and sporting short brown hair. The next was a man of similar stature and mixed ethnicity. But it was the petite, blonde figure at the centre who caused Thomas' stomach to leap into his mouth, and he froze at the sight of the woman before him, his eyes widening as if he'd just seen a ghost.
…
No way…
"Major Erika Ziemelis, reporting for duty," she said.