A/N: Hello all, monthly update time. It's a bit later than usual as I had to move houses and lost a week of writing time in the process. Also, the first half or so is just me waxing pseudo-scientific about the factions, feel free to skip it if you're not into infodumps.

Enjoy!

Admiral Hood sighed as he sat, sore from a day of ceremonies celebrating the launching of another new ship. They were common nowadays, a good sign- but very tiring for the man in charge of the celebrations!

"Alright, Ares," he groaned. "You told me the Assembly had finished simulating our cases, yes?"

"That is correct, sir," Ares replied calmly. "Would you like to hear our conclusions?"

"Go ahead."

"As you know, we have simulated 6 different general cases- three in which hostilities are not immediately joined, and three in which hostilities immediately break out. I shall begin with our two most optimistic conclusions.

"In the case that peaceful first contact can be made and maintained, there is a high probability of a significant economic boost from trade and technology transfer- their technology groundings seem to have diverged significantly from ours, and offer downsides and advantages we don't have, and vice versa. Due to our apparent much smaller size, the benefits this would confer are considerable to say the least. With several races or organizations competing for technological insights, we can instigate a bidding war quite easily and profit enough to get much of the civilian-grade material they already possess for a very low price. Our military monopoly makes that somewhat harder for the other side, and in addition HITCHHIKER has seen no indication of anything past advanced dumb AI in any of the civilian networks that have been infiltrated. We can't rule out their usage in government or military installations, but the limited scope of such activities suggests their AI, if any, is either very new or a stagnant field of research, and the Assembly is confident we hold a significant computing advantage as long as a Smart AI is on-scene. Our Dumb AI's are slightly more powerful on a brute-force basis—we simply use more processors per AI, analysis has concluded, perhaps because theirs tend to be a bevy of specialized programs where ours are designed to be more general-but don't seem to utilize processing capability as efficiently as theirs, meaning that integration of their programming language may improve our own capabilities even further. This offers even more opportunities for profit.

"However, there are political considerations in this scenario. Precisely due to our depleted state and relative size, there is a risk that cultural assimilation could occur in as little as one or two centuries, after which point we would cease to be an independent polity and become another member race of this conglomeration. This is a matter that the political leadership must decide on, obviously. The advantages or disadvantages of assimilation or independence are, to put bluntly, too complicated and based on too many variables for the Assembly to effectively simulate at a point this far from the actual event.

"Our second scenario assumes peaceful first contact is made for 5-10 years, and then breaks into hostilities with one faction or member race of the Citadel but not the organization as a whole. This is possible due to the loose-knit nature of the Citadel's power structure.

"In this case, between the significant economic boost even 5 years of trade would give, and the technology transfers and industrial espionage we've estimated, our fleet would be largely rebuilt on this cycle's building schedule, with the next generation of ships implementing what we've already gathered and will gather in this year and next in the slips, and the generation of ships past that in the design and testing phase. This would obviously be pushed forward another generation if 10 years is the closer estimate.

"However, since our schedule is assuming years of clandestine espionage before contact, it means their first or second generation will still be in the slips compared to our second and third, and our economy is frankly built around the military-industrial complex. We're accustomed to a level of military spending as a percentage of budget and total economic potential that these polities would find ruinous. Even with their greater size, that means we can put out nearly as many ships as them until they go to a full war footing themselves.

"Given these parameters, we have estimated the likelihood of a stalemate as higher than 60% with any of the factions we've yet been able to identify. This probability is lowest with the most major faction we've found data on- the Turians, and approaches 100% with the minor races. However, the probability of the UEG managing a victory are fairly small. In essence, the war would be nothing more than ships lost on both sides, with very little gained, unless something major has been missed in our calculations. This would likely lead to a negotiated settlement, and while our economy would still take a hit, we will still be in good shape. There is a risk of seguing into the third scenario, however.

"The third scenario assumes general hostilities after 5-10 years. In this case, unfortunately, we are likely to be forced to an unfavorable negotiated peace. With aggressive population expansion measures and the postwar boom, we've managed to recover as a population to about 14 billion individuals, and though our birthrate is currently high, it's unlikely to pass 20 billion in this time frame, and most of the new births will be far too young to fight in this hypothetical. The Citadel as an organization, we have estimated, likely has a population somewhere between 45 and 75 times that figure, with an only slightly poorer relative GDP per capita, giving them somewhere between 43 and 71 times our effective GDP."

Hood sucked in a breath. "I can't say I wasn't expecting it, but those are terrible odds," he said.

"For reference, sir," Ares replied, "the relative disparity in GDP between the United States and Japan in the Second World War was between 5 and 10 times. The relative disparity in GDP between the UN coalition and the Koslovic and Frieden fractions in the Interplanetary Wars varied between 10 and 30 times."

The admiral winced. "So we'd be crushed like an ant."

"Yes and no. We would be able to repel the initial fleet composition of the Citadel, simulation indicates, with the loss of only a few systems, mainly those where the Relays themselves are situated. The chokepoint those represent to enemy ships- especially in this time frame, since even civilian Slipspace tech will have only just been implemented on their new-build ships- mean that while superior numbers could ram a sufficiently-sized fleet down our throats, we could make them pay heavily with dedicated defensive fortifications. Should they wish to negotiate then, we would likely be able to get off with a simple loss of most of the economic gains from the previous years- essentially leaving us off where we'd be if we had never discovered them in the first place for that decade, as well as reduced economic opportunities compared to the first two cases.

"Should they hit us with the new-build ships out of anger, though, we would be out of reserves to repel them."

"And then we'd get another fleet sitting above earth, only this time they're dictating terms."

"Correct." Ares' figure wavered on the desk. "There is one very important consideration the Assembly feels must be conveyed to you and the other directing members of any military efforts in any of these cases, however."

"Which is?"

"'Special Asset Denial' must not be considered under any circumstance," Ares said flatly. "HITCHHIKER has recently unearthed what appears to be a set of treaties that bans usage of biological, chemical, or nuclear weapons on habitable planets, as well as strategic kinetic impactors. These seem to be be guided with a philosophy that the world's habitability itself is more important than the military value of a strike, probably because the Citadel lacks comprehensive terraforming technology.

"What this means is that if a system has a terraformed or terrestrial planet, NOVAs are off the table. Planetary SMAC strikes are off the table. Chemical stocks are likewise unfeasible. Biologicals, provided they can be sufficiently disguised and long-term in effect, are possible, but likely to generate significant backlash regardless of our deniability. In effect, anything with more effect than a tactical-grade nuclear device cannot be risked. This is a fundamental change to our warmaking philosophy, given how scorched-earth we have been forced to be in these past 40 years.

"We may use nuclear or antimatter weapons in ship-to-ship battles, but the backlash will also be a factor. The Assembly, however, sees no way to work around this tactical necessity without badly damaging our own combat effectiveness, and has accepted this as required.

"However, if we were to violate the planetary terms, even if we are not a signatory, we would almost certainly lose any possibility of a negotiated, conditional peace treaty." Ares' digital eyes stared straight into Hood's. "This is a direct recommendation from the Assembly as a whole. We will likewise be making this clear at the next scheduled meeting."

"You don't have to tell me that," Hood said grimly. "But getting that through to ONI might well be impossible. At this point, they consider wiping a lost cause to deny it to the enemy a routine operation." A wry smile graced his face. "How many nukes have they used over the years? Hundreds, maybe even thousands."

"Correct." Ares nodded.

"Now, onto the other three cases, I can simplify these considerably. In the event of an immediate limited war, the situation mirrors that of our second scenario, with the mitigating element of surprise and mobility on our side somewhat offsetting our lack of assets, though our chances of stalemate or victory are slightly worse against every faction.

"The other two scenarios play out like our third. Either an unfavorable negotiated settlement, or unconditional surrender, with almost 100% certainty.

"Should war break out under any of these scenarios, the Assembly recommends the highest possible emphasis be put on a diplomatic solution, even if it means accepting significant losses in prestige or buying power. If we try to fight, we can hold our own for the first one to three years. After that, nothing we do can stop us from being ground down.

"Admiral, I'm sure you understand this, but the Assembly wants you to drill it into every officer in the fleet and with the entire Council. If we fight, humanity loses."

-REDCOBRA-

"I feel like we're doing pretty good for being trapped in a server farm 60 floors above the ground," BRONCO commented idly, as shots slammed into the computer towers he crouched behind. "I'd even say we're winning, given the pile of dead bodies at the door."

"While you and Anton have done an admirable job taking down xenos," Victor replied, "We're still trapped. Holding out doesn't count as a victory in my book."

"True enough." A shot broke through a hard drive already shattered by previous shots and spanged off his shoulder shields in a burst of light. His return fire drove the trio peeking through the door back out, but at the cost of his weapon overheating once again. "Infinite ammo is definitely a plus,but not being able to fire as quickly as I can reload a magazine is annoying."

A grenade made its way through the door, and burst in a flash of bright light and a loud boom. The helmet compensated quickly, but he was still blinking furiously as he fired through the door to discourage anyone from trying to come in if they thought that little ploy had worked. "Still, we're only facing fast response police teams at the moment. I have a feeling that once the actual military gets here, they won't be quite so timid, and then we'll be in for it." He paused. "ETA on them, Victor?"

"Two minutes, they're in the stairwells and elevators now."

"Well, I guess it's time to go."

"Where, exactly, are we planning on going?" Victor asked dryly.

"Well, I've got an idea on that. How much impulse can my jump jets and evasive thrusters give me if we run them dry?"

Victor sighed. "Ah. The answer is, nearly enough, but not quite."

BRONCO snatched the last grenade off his belt and lofted it into the doorway. "Meaning?"

"Theoretically, given current levels, you would be able to land safely. The margin of error, however, is slim, to put it very generously, assuming you want to land anywhere other than right below us right into the teeth of the xeno quick response command center. In fact, just taking into account the need for you to go out of your most drag-inducing pose to land on your feet shaves that margin away entirely." The grenade detonated, buying him another few seconds.

"You'll probably live if we land in the right place. You might not be walking away from it."

BRONCO grimaced. "I'd hoped for a little more than that, but it can't be helped." He rolled his head back. "I always wanted to be a jump trooper as a kid, you know that?"

Peeking back out around the server farm, he let out one last long burst, another few rounds bouncing off his shields, before leaping forwards and out towards the windows. He grabbed his pistol and emptied the magazine at the window, spiderwebbing the bulletproof glass with cracks, and hurled himself through, shields bursting in protest from the force.

For a moment, he seemed suspended high above the alien city, looking down on the xenos below. It was surprisingly peaceful for the events that had led to him throwing himself out a building hundreds of feet up.

It was abruptly ended as a sharp impact sent him spinning, one arm suddenly flapping limply in the air as he began to fall. He'd been hit in the shoulder, a lucky shot going under the armor plating and through his bodysuit. The suit displays showed well enough that his scapula was fractured badly and the muscles were torn.

That would be bad enough, but his free fall was forcing his suddenly-limp arm to move quite vigorously. That amplified the pain ten-fold, and he already felt his vision greying.

"Don't think I'm staying conscious," he gasped. "Take care of me while I'm out."

Finally, the automed functions kicked in, and he sunk under a wave of analgesics and sedatives.